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zepskies · 10 hours ago

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Oooh here we go, diving right back into Angst City with some manic Cowboy Sheriff. 😅

A computer mouse flung against the wall and only missed Jenny’s head by an inch as the blonde peeked inside his office. The rest of the station had selected her to talk to the big boss, his outbursts even being heard from miles away. “You okay?” Jenny checked carefully. “I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

*snorts* Oh, he's not handling this well, is he? Can't really blame him, considering a serial killer has the love of his life captured somewhere. 🥲

It wasn’t just about what he had done in there but also about he’d said. No wonder Diane had gotten so easily under his skin. She probably had heard every insecurity he had ever uttered. To you. And to imaginary Randy. How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

Oh Goddd, it really is awful. It's like nowhere in his life is private or safe anymore for him. How could you ever feel comfortable in your own office again?

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

loll I could definitely see that. 😅

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

THANK YOU. At least one of them is taking this situation more seriously than their rivalry. But I honestly understand and sympathize with Randy too -- he's grasping at straws even though he knows he's losing his (former) wife emotionally already, even if he does manage to find the key to saving her before Beau does.

“‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk,

Ok, just shoot this bitch out back and bury her under the sheriff's office. Honestly. 😤 (But the monkeys line did make me snort lol)

“About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

Dammmmn how the hell is she getting this information?? But now I'm looking at Randy sideways even harder. 😒

I was on pins and needles throughout all of the reader's almost escape -- that bear trap actually made me physically grimace/wince!! Omg poor thing. But I loved how remembering Beau's advice helped her get out of the trap -- or at least the bear trap, if not Hal's "Benders"-themed game of hunt and chase. 😰

Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest. They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

Such a great moment between Beau and Randy here, and such great storytelling, especially as they actually start to work together to solve the mystery of what happened to the reader next. 👏🏽💜 I think one of the things I love most about your writing is you have such a great sense of story beats, creating tension and when to relieve it, and how to build character arcs that provide amazing twists, while also making exact sense when it all comes together, piece by piece.

Beau knew the question was mostly rhetorical, but true to himself, he still answered, “It’s actually pretty easy. Just press down on the springs, and the thing opens right up.” A smile formed on his lips as a memory popped back into his mind. “I told Y/N that once when we took a camping trip back in Houston. She probably didn’t remember it. I mean, honestly, I doubt she was even listening. I was kinda ramblin’, you know?”

Oh these two were made for her -- she was actually listening to his ramblings. 🥰💜

“Yeah, well, it’s true,” he said, his gaze cast downward as if he were confessing his sins to a priest. “She wanted kids, and I told her I didn’t. Neither of us was backing down. The night the cartel kidnapped me, we were supposed to have dinner and talk about it when I got home. Part of me already knew where it was headed.”

Remember earlier when I was talking about your amazing twists that make things click into place even more perfectly? Well THIS IS IT. 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 It makes things with her and Beau make even more sense now that we know she was likely leaving Randy anyway, no matter how much she loved him.

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

YES, Beau!! I get it, Randy's been dealt a shitty hand, but Beau's POV in this situation and conversation is so valid. 👌🏽 (Especially since she was likely leaving Randy anyway.)

Regardless, it seems like they had the honest man-to-man talk they needed to have about everything. But Wayne!!! That cliffhanger is...

Polaris – Chapter 12

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, a heavy dose of angst, kidnapping, violence, injuries, serial killers, death, an awful cliffhanger

Word Count: 6.8k

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! 🥳 We jump straight into 2025 with an angsty banger 👀

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 12: Through

On one of the sunniest mornings Helena had seen in recent days, the peaceful quiet of the early risers in the Sheriff’s Department was disturbed by one restless sheriff.

Beau was taking his office apart – bit by bit, nail by nail, panel by panel, brick by brick.

The search for you had gone on all night and yielded zero results. You were nowhere to be found. For all Beau knew, you could be dead by now and buried in the vast woods of Montana.

“You okay?” Jenny checked carefully.

“I’m tryna find that stupid camera!”

“Thought you already found that hours ago,” Jenny noted with a raised brow.

“Can’t be too careful…” the sheriff murmured, his focus landing on the pile of pens on his desk. The silver one – had that always been there? He picked it up. “Does this look normal to you?”

Jenny only offered a shrug.

“Never mind,” Beau muttered and reduced the pen down to its individual parts. Nothing. Just a plain, old pen.

“Did you get some sleep?”

“What d’you think?”

At five in the morning, Beau had promised Jenny he’d snooze for half an hour on the couch in his office. He did lie down, stared at the suspended ceiling tiles for about a minute, and then remembered the damn camera.

How was he supposed to sleep in a place where he felt exploited, exposed, and unsafe?

“Well, uh, I just wanted to tell you that Randy went into Interrogation Room 2 with Diane…”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah…” Jenny exhaled a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame. “He said you’d deputized him and authorized it, but I had a feeling that wasn’t true.”

Beau ran a hand across his face, rubbing his beard.

Rule #3: She’s my wife. I get to decide how we proceed.

Rule #4: You’re not the boss of me.

“Well, I did deputize him,” Beau admitted. He had given his former partner a long leash, not expecting he’d bolt through the backyard.

“Beau…” Jenny clearly didn’t approve.

“He left me no choice, alright?!”

Well, no choice his guilt could deal with.

The sheriff then left his destroyed office and thundered into Interrogation Room 2 down the hall. Randy wouldn’t get to do this alone. Beau knew there was an ulterior motive – if only Randy saved you, he could also miraculously save his marriage. Randy was a persistent motherfucker. He wouldn’t give up.

And if the roles were reversed, Beau wouldn’t either. He’d probably be even more annoyingly persistent than Randy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Beau charged in with steam coming out of his ears. For a moment, his anger was so focused on his friend, he didn’t even notice the rising smile on Diane’s lips.

“Good morning, Sheriff Arlen.” Even if Diane’s voice sounded melodious, to Beau it was still chalk on board. “Remodeling the office, are we?”

“You mind?” Randy prompted stand-offishly, glancing up at the sheriff. “Kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Outside. Now,” was all Beau said.

Defiantly and miffed by the authoritative tone, Randy followed him to the hall.

“Play nice, boys!” Diane’s voice echoed through before the door fell into its lock.

“What d’you think you’re doing? You can’t just talk to our prime suspect without my presence!” Beau roared.

Randy rolled his eyes back. “Didn’t know I needed a babysitter…”

“This isn’t a game, Randy! We need to find Y/N before it’s too late,” Beau argued furiously. They didn’t have time for petty competitions.

“Yeah, which is why I’m talking to the only lead we have! That bitch knows where she is,” Randy countered with an equal amount of fury.

“She’s not gonna tell you!”

Randy only shrugged – cocky in nature and completely unlike him. And Beau then realized something that had changed: His friend wouldn’t back down anymore and bend. Those days were over, and it was probably Beau’s own fault.

“We’ll see,” Randy said stubbornly, his hand wandering back to the door handle. “You comin’?”

Beau inhaled and exhaled a deep breath before nodding – and back into the lion’s den they went.

Diane welcomed them with a sneer. “All made up?”

“Tell us where Turner took her,” Randy demanded with a stern expression and firm voice.

If Randy wanted to play bad cop, the role of good cop fell to Beau by default. And although they had never ever played it that way before, Beau figured Randy carried more anger than even him right now. He might as well let him make good use of it.

“Can’t.” Diane twitched her shoulders. “Hal doesn’t tell me.”

“Oh, and we’re just supposed to believe that?” Beau lifted a brow in mock. “C’mon, Diane…”

“It’s true,” she said, smiling. “Call it an insurance policy in case one of you Neanderthals decides to go rogue on me – looking at you specifically, Sheriff Arlen. If you leave your own partner to die in a filthy warehouse, I don’t wanna know what you do to your enemies.” She then looked at Randy, whispering behind her palm, “You know, I think he did it on purpose.”

Beau clicked his tongue and snorted humorlessly. “Alright, Diane, you’ve had your fun. You’ve wreaked havoc… You’ve won, okay? Fair and square. Just give up your partner, tell us where Y/N is, and end this once and for all. Might even get a better deal if you do. Think about it. Murdering an FBI agent doesn’t look good in front of a judge and jury. We have iron-clad proof you killed at least five people in Texas. Capital murder, death penalty… See where I’m going with this?”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it, Sheriff. And I’ve told you: I don’t know where she is now,” Diane reiterated with the same infuriating smile. Her gray eyes then wandered to a wall clock behind the men. “At least not yet.”

Randy and Beau both followed her gaze and stared at that same clock. Their eyes widened.

“Then when?” Randy prompted.

“Don’t worry. You’ll see her soon.” Diane smirked. “If she makes it out alive, she can tell you in person she’s choosing the rugged sheriff here over you, Detective Nichols.”

Randy’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching and unclenching under the metal table.

“I gave her a fighting chance.”

“Oh, you mean like the others?” Beau had known from the start that it would be useless talking to her.

“They all could’ve gotten out,” said Diane as if she blamed the victims for not being smarter and more durable. “‘Sides, why would I give up my favorite part? I’ve waited a while for this one. Killing her? While you two idiots watch helplessly and throw feces at each other like monkeys in a zoo? Gotta say, it’s better than killing twenty-four people combined. Ever since I met Deputy Popcorn, I’ve been actually craving a snack.” Upon Beau’s facial twitch, Diane leaned closer and whispered with a smirk, “Yeah, I know about the cute little nicknames for your deputies too, Sheriff. I wonder how many bugs you’ve found yet in your office. Sure it can’t be all of them. Maybe I’ve bugged the whole station. Who’s to say? Have you checked your trailer yet? The lovely agent’s motel room? No?”

Beau couldn’t pinpoint the exact feeling that clutched his heart and twisted it like a boa constrictor. Pain, fear, anger, sadness – a deadly cocktail for anyone. Was this throbbing sting in his chest what a heart attack felt like? Only recently, he’d read an article in the paper about a guy his age who just dropped dead. Was this it for him?

Would it mean he'd get to see you again, though?

“Enough of that!”

Randy’s voice rang in his ears, but Beau couldn’t refocus. He needed fresh air to breathe, his lungs dried up and clinging to every molecule like he’d been deprived of oxygen for days. The small room felt suddenly suffocating as the monster across from him sneered joyfully.

“Look, I don’t know if you’re saying all that horseshit ‘cause you wanna hurt him or me,” Randy said, his voice laced with a darkness Beau had never seen before.

“Little bit of both,” Diane teased with a shrug.

“Yeah, well, I don’t care either way,” Randy huffed, the deep creases in his brow casting threatening shadows on his face. “Do your worst to me or him. Hell, burn us at the stake if it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, but all I wanna know is where that bunker is. Where is she? Your beef’s clearly with us. Men, right? You know she doesn’t deserve this. Just let her go.”

Diane seemed unamused by the suggestion, leaning back in the metal chair. “You’re right. She doesn’t deserve this. I actually like her. She reminds me of me. But you two did this to her. It’s out of my hands at this point. You don’t deserve her, sheriff,” she said and looked at Beau before her cold eyes shifted to Randy. “Neither do you, detective. I know a lot of things – and not just about the sheriff here. I know what you did to her, too.”

Randy forced a tight smile. “You’re bluffing. I didn’t do anything.”

“Am I?” Diane quirked a brow and then sent him an innocent smile. “About four years ago, she wrote a rather lengthy email to her sister Sophia in Seattle. She seemed very upset. Said there was a little something you wouldn’t give her. Ring any bells?”

With a thick swallow and a glare swimming in his hazel eyes, Randy nodded. “We’re done here.”

Diane let out a long, suspenseful sigh, not bothering to engage further. Her icy heart wouldn’t melt. Her eyes flickered around the bleak, depressing room. “I miss windows. Haven’t seen the outside for days.”

“Yeah, and you ain’t gonna,” Beau huffed. He had quietly listened, his heart rate slowing down as his head started spinning with questions. You had never told him anything. He had never asked. It had been an unspoken rule to not talk about your marriage. Beau always figured knowing too much would only make it worse.

“Too bad. I always liked the autumn sunsets. When it gets dark sooner…” Diane then stretched out her neck. “Anyways, nice chatting with you boys, but it’s time for my beauty nap now. Which one of you two cowboys is gonna accompany me back to my cell, hm?”

The men shared a look and then wordlessly rose, leaving the room. In the safety of the hallway, Beau ran a hand over his face and took his first deep breath.

Air. Lungs. Brain. Without toxicity, he could finally think straight again.

“Well, this was pointless and a waste of our time. Happy now?” Beau huffed with his newfound lung capacity.

But Randy’s brow was furrowed. He was thinking. “Actually, yeah… Didn’t you hear what she said?”

“Yeah, bunch of narcissistic bullshit. She’s not gonna tell us where Y/N is,” Beau muttered bitterly. If possible, he wished to never converse with that psychotic witch again. There was only so much he could handle before snapping her neck.

“She said that she doesn’t know where Y/N is now,” Randy pointed out. “Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe Y/N’s not in the bunker yet. Turner might keep her somewhere else and wait till he can move her.”

“At sundown,” Beau mused, Diane’s words haunting his mind. “He’ll move her when it’s dark.”

“Which means we still have a couple hours to find her,” Randy finished the thought.

“Popcorn!” Beau yelled down the hallway. The sheriff found himself in better spirits. He hadn’t used a silly name for his most loyal deputy in days, although it ached a tiny bit to say it now. “Any properties in Newton’s name?”

“Yes, sir, several,” Mo replied.

“I need a list of all in the area. Get a team together and search ‘em. One by one,” Beau ordered. “Warehouses, cabins… Take it all apart. I don’t care.”

“And also see if any properties are in Hal Turner’s name and add them to the list,” Randy suggested.

Poppernak shot Beau a look, and only when the latter gave his agreement, did the deputy nod. “Yes, Sheriff Arlen.”

The obnoxiously loud sound of birds woke you from a deep slumber. Groggily, you pried your eyes open and found the first few beams of sunlight warming your face. For a peaceful moment of dazed bliss, you had no clue where you were or how you got here.

There was a thumping, searing pain in your skull, hammering away at your sanity like the ticks of a clock. Your neck and shoulders hurt from tension till you realized you were bound to an old wooden chair, a harsh and creaking surface underneath you. Your behind felt both sore and numb.

Glancing around the room, you noticed you were in the living quarters of a small cabin. A fireplace sat to your right. Above it, a cuckoo clock that showed shortly past noon, and you realized that must’ve produced the bird noise that woke you. The stinging sunlight reached your eyes and filled you with hope.

Hal Turner hadn’t locked you into a bunker yet.

“You’re awake. Good.” Turner entered the room with a bottle of water and a sandwich, throwing the items unceremoniously onto your lap. “You need to eat. We’ll leave soon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Where they all went,” he said and came up behind you. Turner wasn’t a man of tall stature. Small, middle-aged, nervous. Non-threatening.

Diane’s little ant.

He cut your ties, and you could tell his hands were shaking. They didn’t treat the others like that. Entertaining a victim had never been his job before.

Sedated, dumped, marooned.

That had been the pattern, and you hoped this little off-course adventure would pay off with your freedom. Your gaze drifted down to a lonely brown belt buckle.

Unarmed.

With free hands and Turner still vulnerably behind you, your arms shot up and wrapped around his neck. Fortunately, he wasn’t as heavy as Beau in training when you jolted him forward, jumped up, and rammed his face straight into your knee.

Unconscious for the moment, Turner tumbled to the ground, and you sprinted through the front door. You hoped it would give you enough time to find an exit.

But all you found was a vast sea of trees – towering pines that reached heavenward with no neighboring houses or roads in sight.

There was a shed to your left. Tools. You needed weapons.

And, most of all, you needed more goddamn time to think your way out of this one.

It wasn’t long till you heard the front door of the cabin slam open, heavy and angry footsteps aimlessly searching before they slowly circled closer to the shed.

Fortunately, your little hide-out had proved itself useful – and fully stocked. Turner had arranged his tools in a neatly organized manner. Nothing seemed to be out of place, screwdrivers hanging on the wall from small to big, pliers, drills, hacksaws… Your weapons of choice, however, fell on a hammer and the heaviest, biggest wrench.

Lurking behind the small barn door, you lay in wait till the old door creaked open and Hal Turner walked through. He only blinked at you wide-eyed before your first hit with the wrench landed across his right cheek. It was hard enough for blood to spew out of his mouth, and as he tumbled forward, you delivered your second blow – the hammer, this time, slamming against the back of his head.

Dropping the tools, you decided to take your chances and make a run through the woods for it. You still had a few fleeting hours till dark. If you just kept going, maybe you’d make it to a road or a town somewhere before you froze to death.

What a great outlook…

However, you didn’t even get farther than a few yards from the house before a sharp pain seared from your ankle throughout your entire body. Falling harshly and bracing yourself on the cold, wet leaves, you screamed out and looked down at the culprit – a bear trap.

Well, points for Hufflepuff!

Apparently, you had underestimated Turner. Ahead of you, you also spied some tripwire. Great. This place was a giant death trap – and you had already hated the woods before all of this.

Getting back onto your feet was not only hindered by the giant claws in your flesh but also the iron chain attached to the trap that tethered you to the ground. So, with your freezing hands, you dug out the metal stake that served as your anchor.

Then, the fucking bear trap – you knew this one would hurt like a son of a bitch. Carefully, you inspected the oozing wound, the razor sharp edges deeply clutching your skin at your lower calf and ankle. For a moment, you even swore you could feel the tips of their pointed teeth drilling into your bone. You tried to pry them apart with your hands but gave up on that idea rather quickly once the jaws cut your fingers.

Glancing at the shed, you saw the door was still ajar. It was quiet in there. Either Hal Turner was gone, solely unconscious, or currently bleeding to death. The shed was your Schrödinger’s cat. As long as you didn’t know which one it was, you still had time.

Taking several deep breaths, you closed your eyes and remembered the trip you took with Beau when you were back in Houston. The two of you drove camping in Piney Woods. For a few days, you were gone and unknown to everyone around you. You could just be you and him. No one had to hide anything. No one had to feel guilty. In those short days, you realized you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Did you know bear traps are actually pretty easy to get out of?” Beau babbles a random fact in his usual manner when neither of you has said anything in a minute. He glances at you, a happy smile on his face as he intertwines his fingers with yours during a stroll through the green and lush forest.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, all you gotta do is not panic, get up on your feet, and press your weight down on the springs at the bottom. Just pops open and you can pull your leg out,” he explains with a popping sound, turning the little lesson into a show-and-tell.

“Don’t panic…” you mumbled to yourself and sat up. “Get up…” With a strained groan and your palms supportively on the ground, you heaved yourself to your feet. You winced as you put pressure on your injured leg and, therefore, tried to shift your weight to your good one. The main problem was the next step: “Press down.”

Mentally, you braced yourself before you slowly started to put pressure on the leg again. The jaws moved and wiggled in your flesh, but the pain was too much too bear. You bit down on your tongue as tears strangled your eyes.

Alright, next try.

If slow was too painful, then maybe the bandaid method was the way to go. Quick and painless, as they say. You inhaled and exhaled through your nose as you raised your foot a few inches above ground, making sure the springs would hit the uneven surface properly. Then, you kicked down.

The trap sprung open, you pulled your foot out, and released a primal scream that echoed through the quiet woods, surely disturbing whatever lived there.

And then, suddenly, Hal Turner stood in front of you with a shovel.

Diane’s listed properties came up empty. There was still no sign of you. Turner, on the other hand, had only booked a motel room in his name but hadn’t been seen there in weeks. So, Beau figured he had to be staying somewhere if he wasn’t sleeping in his room.

At four o’clock, the sheriff was close to a breakdown when all leads petered out and the daylight was almost gone. But then Cassie and Denise stormed the station, both out of breath, and brought forth a document that showed a property north of Helena in the name of a Diane Turner. It was a remote cabin in the middle of the woods, which also happened to be close to the location where the ambulance had picked up Randy.

Ding, ding, ding!

Beau gathered the whole cavalry and raced there as fast as he could. By the time he was ten minutes out, the sky had grown dark, the woods pitch-black around him. Switching on the Jeep’s headlights only added to the uneasiness in his stomach. His passenger was quiet next to him, but Beau could tell how worried Randy was by the way his left leg anxiously drummed against the floor mat.

Both of them thought it was too late to save you.

An access road, all dirt, led up behind the cabin, only making it a short hike. Turner’s vehicle had been parked at the fork where it reached pavement. They seemed to be on the right track. After all, if Turner was here, then hopefully so were you.

Beau and Randy were the first to arrive, the cabin inside dark without a single light on, not even a candle burning in the smudged windows. Carefully, the men stepped on the porch, the property around them quiet and undisturbed, but the front door was an inch ajar. Pulling out their weapons, the two shared a look without speaking a word before entering the house, a feeling of familiarity rising in Beau’s chest.

They were still partners, somewhere deep down.

The floorboards creaked under Beau’s boots as he treaded down the hallway. The cabin was small, only consisting of one bedroom, a living area, a kitchen and bath. While the men checked each room, Beau already knew you weren’t here anymore – if you’d ever been here to begin with. Maybe Diane had sent them on a wild goose-chase, another sick game created by the mind of psychopath, while you had been locked in a bunker all along, waiting for him to find you.

How much air did you still have left? Would he get to you in time?

“Beau!”

His partner’s voice drew him from the bedroom to the living space, his mind still rattling with the unspoken fear of losing you. His green eyes then focused on the beam of Randy’s flashlight as it shone on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, a set of cut plastic ties on the floor next to it. There was also an uneaten sandwich and an unopened bottle of water scattered on the ground.

And then, there were the trails, the little drops, and the sheer pools of blood everywhere that made his gut churn. Was it all yours?

“We need to get forensics here,” Beau said with a thick swallow, already pulling out his phone to call Jenny.

“That’s a lot of blood,” Randy said with a lump in his throat, his eyes transfixed on the little red pond by the tips of his feet. And although it was dark, Beau could see the color drain from his partner’s face.

“I know.” Beau bobbed his head quietly, gently clasping his friend’s shoulder as he held his phone to his ear.

The sheriff then informed Jenny of their findings, telling her to hurry any lab results along. The sooner they knew whose blood it was, the better. As he hung up, he noticed Randy following a trail of blood to the door, leading further outside. He shone his flashlight through the dense foliage before it landed on a little working shed to the right.

As Randy creaked the door of the shed open, with Beau behind him, both thought there was a high probability they’d stumble upon a body in there – if not two.

Instead, the shed was disappointingly empty.

Beau whistled lowly as the light hit the neatly arranged wall of tools. “Well, that’s some freak level organization.”

But Randy’s brow furrowed as his light landed on the ground behind the door. “There’s a hammer and wrench on the ground.” He knelt down to inspect it closer. “Got blood on it. Lot of it.”

Beau chuckled lightly and ran a palm over his face to keep the stinging tears of hope inside, which only confused Randy.

“What’s so funny? Y/N might be dead,” Randy said sourly.

“That’s not Turner’s doing,” Beau argued and gestured at the tools on the ground, his heart flooding with a tiny bit of relief. “Look at the wall. Why would he kill her with tools? It’s way too bloody. Guy like this can’t handle the mess. He had a perfectly fine gun. Would’ve been way cleaner if he wanted to.”

“So, you think this was Y/N?” Randy thought for a moment before nodding. “The ties inside were cut. The food and water on the floor… Maybe he cut her loose and she took advantage of it? I mean, it does sound like her.”

“Yeah…” Beau’s eyes then musingly drifted back to the wall. “Is there a screwdriver on the ground somewhere? There’s one missing here.”

“Nope, nothing on the ground,” Randy replied once his flashlight search was complete. “You think she took it with her?”

“Let’s hope so…”

“But if Y/N managed to overpower Turner, why isn’t she here? And where’s Turner? And if it happened out here, why is there so much blood inside?”

Beau licked his chapped lips, his brow returning to their initially creased position. “Maybe she didn’t take him out for good.”

“You thinkin’ she knocked him out and escaped?”

“Yeah, and then Turner woke up, went back into the house before taking off after her through those woods,” Beau shared his theory. It would explain the vast amounts of blood inside.

“So, your theory is she’s lost and being hunted?” Randy cocked a brow.

Beau only offered him a shrug. “Best possible scenario.”

“Great.” Randy scoffed. “What’s the worst possible scenario then?”

Beau’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “I think we both know.” Licking his lips, he patted Randy’s shoulder. “But let’s not think about the worst right now. I’ll get a team going to search these woods. We’ll find her. You’re not losing her again, alright?”

Randy could only nod and hope, but a little tug on his heart told him something different as he glanced at his former friend.

“It’s been three hours,” Randy huffed frustratedly as they passed the same street sign to Helena down the mountain once more, driving up and down the roads around the cabin in an endless loop, hoping and praying a miracle would happen. “Don’t you think we would’ve found her by now? If she’s hurt and inside those woods, we should be in there looking for her.”

Beau passed another sigh between his lips. There had been three hours of that, too. Patience was a not only an eight-letter word but a bitch as well.

“Neither of us is any help there. We don’t know those woods. You don’t even a phone, Randy,” Beau said with a bit more firmness in his voice, causing his partner’s frown to deepen. Saved by the bell, Beau’s phone chimed in his pocket with Jenny’s angelic name popping up on the screen. He pulled over on the side of the road before picking up.

“What you got? Uh-huh… You sure? What did they say about the cabin? Okay… Both of ‘em? How far? Which direction? Alright… We’re close. Driving back up there now.”

Randy held his breath till Beau hung up, trying to guess the content of the phone call by the various facial expressions of the sheriff. Then, he asked, “Good news or bad news?”

“Hard to say,” Beau replied, his eyes fixed on his hands gripping the steering wheel. He swallowed the lump in his throat, gave himself an encouraging nod, and started the engine, trying to sink every bad theory that surfaced in his mind. “Forensics came back. Our theory was partially correct. The blood inside the cabin was mostly Turner’s.”

Randy raised a brow, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. “Mostly?”

“Evidence points to her not escaping. Turner might have gotten to her before she could even leave the property. They found a bear trap with her blood on it,” Beau explained slowly, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Dogs picked up a trail, leading into the woods. Forensics confirmed both of their blood on that trail.”

“Doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve followed her. She still could’ve escaped,” Randy replied and knew full well it was only sugarcoating the truth swimming in the lower pits of his belly.

“Could’ve…” Beau nodded and swallowed heavily. “But then again, if she did manage to escape, how did her blood end up inside the cabin?”

Defeated, Randy licked his lips, expelling a humorless chuckle. “Yeah, guess my hopes are little too high. I mean, how the hell would you get out of a bear trap?”

“Uh-huh. I remember. I’ve spent a lot of time with you…” Randy smacked his lips, fingers tapping his thigh. “You guys went on a trip together?”

Beau’s mouth opened on reflex, but he stopped himself from replying, shooting a scrutinizing look at his partner. “Yeah, uh, just the one, really. Shoulda been more…”

Regrets seeped to the surface. If Beau had known he had only a finite amount of time with you, he would’ve enjoyed and appreciated every last second of it. He should’ve spent less time in his head. He should’ve taken you out on more dates. He should’ve been the best he could be. Instead, he wasted so much time and couldn’t even remember why in retrospect.

“What makes you say that?” Randy’s question rang both with curiosity and pain. His brown eyes stared stubbornly ahead and focused on the dark road.

Beau blew a long sigh. “Well, I wasn’t always the best–,” he hesitated a moment before saying the word, “–boyfriend, I guess.”

If Randy was upset by the term, he didn’t let it show. Maybe he was sticking to Rule #2. He quirked a brow and glanced at Beau in the driver’s seat. “So, on top of stealing my wife, you’re telling me you didn’t even treat her right?”

“Guess so,” Beau admitted quietly, poking the inside of his cheeks with his tongue and ignoring the subtle jab. “And I didn’t treat her badly, by the way. Just could’ve tried harder. Felt guilty because she was your-, well, you know… And the divorce got kinda messy, too. I just wanted to stay clear of complications.”

Exasperated, Randy scoffed, shaking his head. “This is not really making me want to give you my blessing…”

Beau huffed a chuckle. “Didn’t know that was an option.”

“Well, it’s not. You don’t deserve her.” Randy clicked his tongue, pensively bobbing his head. He then finally admitted, the words sounding almost sour, “Neither do I. You might be as big of an idiot as me.”

Beau’s eyes widened in surprise, his focus briefly swaying from the road. “What d’you mean? You guys were perfect together. Is this about what Newton said?”

Randy’s lips curved into a bitter smile. “Y/N never told you?”

“Told me what?”

Randy chewed on his lower lip before pushing out the words that had plagued him for three years. “She wanted to leave me.”

Beau shook his head. “Nah, I don’t buy it. She loved you. You should’ve seen her after she thought you’d died.”

Randy inhaled sharply, his head spinning with regret and heart filling with hope. For the past years, he had wondered if he’d ever get another chance to fix things with you.

Beau listened and nodded. He remembered the set dinner table, the lovingly prepared food, the candles – it didn’t seem like something one would do if they planned on leaving.

“No, I don’t think she would’ve left you,” Beau noted, although his heart stung when he said it out loud.

“I overheard her asking Carla for a divorce lawyer. Pretty sure she was,” Randy retorted. “Seems silly now. She was already out of my league. I should’ve just given her what she wanted. I don’t even know why I didn’t. I should’ve just shut up and been grateful.”

“That’s what I would’ve told you to do,” Beau muttered, his brain trying to keep track and process everything. Why had you never told him any of this? And more importantly: “Why have you never told me?”

“Guess I was embarrassed.” Randy shrugged. “And I already knew what you would’ve said.”

Secretly amused, Beau cocked a brow. “What? That you’re an idiot?”

“Exactly.”

“And Carla knew?”

“I guess.” Randy gave another shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, they talked all the time. Well, mostly it was Carla complaining about you, but still…”

Beau’s brow furrowed into deep lines. He should’ve been more surprised than he was. The only thing that really baffled him was the fact you had still agreed to date him after hearing all of that. What else didn’t he know?

“I thought they met once a week for book club?”

Randy shot him a pitying look. “Dude, there was no book club. Only three bottles of wine.” He then exhaled a long sigh, stretching back into his seat. “Maybe it’s good she didn’t pick anyone. She deserves someone who can give her what she wants.”

“What makes you think I can’t?” A little offended, Beau raised his brow. “You know, when she came back a few weeks ago, I swore I’d make things right. I wouldn’t let her go this time.”

But Beau broke that promise. He pushed you away to stay clear of complications. His heart twinged.

“And you think she wanted to live in a trailer in the woods of Montana?”

“Doesn’t matter. I would’ve given her anything she wanted. No questions asked,” Beau stated simply. “I was happy when I was with her. Didn’t matter where we were or what we were doing.”

“So, what? You planned on marrying her? Kids?”

Beau twitched his shoulders, his eyes not drifting from the street. If he glanced at Randy only for a beat, he couldn’t ignore his friend’s reactions any longer and still remain honest. “We never talked about it, but... If that’s what she wants, then yeah. Don’t even have to think about it. You really were an idiot, you know?”

“I know that. Thank you,” Randy huffed sarcastically and rolled his eyes. “Still not getting my blessing, though.”

“Good thing you’re not her father,” Beau snapped. He could only muster so much patience. “You don’t really have a say in who she’s datin’.”

“You’re one to talk.” Randy scoffed mockingly. “I met your friend Denise at the station. We had a long chat. She almost talks as much as you. Sounded like you tried to have a say in who Carla should marry. Little hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“That’s different,” Beau retorted defensively. “We have a kid together. Whoever Carla’s seeing is also gonna be in Emily’s life.”

“So, you don’t even care a little about Carla’s well-being? ‘Cause Denise said you killed her new husband,” Randy countered cleverly.

“Of course I care,” Beau admitted frustratedly. What did Randy want to hear? That he was right about everything? Well, except one thing: “And I didn’t kill Avery, by the way. Might have been slightly responsible for his death, sure, but I didn’t kill the idiot.”

“Seems to be a pattern for you. Maybe Diane was right,” Randy muttered wryly.

Beau licked his lips and sighed. “Listen, I know that devil woman is good at getting into someone’s head, but you gotta believe me, man. I did not leave you to die. If I had known–”

“Whoa, I know,” Randy interrupted him with an amused chuckle and two placating hands. “I was just joking. I knew you didn’t hand me over to the cartel on purpose in some evil ploy to get with my wife. That would be insane.”

Beau gave a nod, accepting his answer with relief. “Well, good.”

“Look, I’m not delusional, contrary to what everyone’s thinking. I know things happened while I was away,” Randy admitted. “I figured she had moved on. For three years, I actually hoped she did. I wanted her to be happy. Just didn’t think it be you, I guess. Probably shouldn’t have been surprised, though. I kinda knew you always liked her. Just didn’t think any more of it, you know?”

“And there wasn’t more, alright? I promise,” Beau assured him, his cheeks reddening from embarrassment. He never thought Randy would’ve suspected anything – not that there really ever was anything. But had his tiny crush really been that obvious? “One of those things, you know? Just ‘cause I find Michelle Rodriguez attractive doesn’t mean I seriously expect to date her. I didn’t know it was more than that till I spent some time with her.”

“Good to know,” was all Randy said, crossing his arms with an uncomfortable clear of his throat. “Definitely surprised Y/N likes you, though. She always had a pretty low opinion of you. Said you were doing shitty police work and I should be more careful. Guess she was right..." Beau shot him a darkened look but refrained from taking the bait. Randy pursed his lips. "Look, I know I’m a pain in your ass right now. You’d probably love to get rid of me.”

“Well, hey, that’s not–”

“What, true?” Knowingly, Randy lifted a brow. “I would if I were you.”

Beau only nodded, not admitting out loud the thought had certainly crossed his mind. “So, what are you thinking now?”

“Still want her to be happy,” Randy said quietly.

All of a sudden, Beau then slammed on the brakes, both men jolting forward into their seatbelts. A loud thud echoed through the car as something heavy hit the Jeep’s hood. For a moment, the sheriff thought he’d run into a deer before blinking his eyes at the bloodied and muddied image of Hal Turner.

“What the hell?!”

Turner was in rough shape, pantingly and deliriously stumbling around the car and onto the road, shielding his eyes from the blinding headlights with his palm. Blood dripped from various places from his head and body before Beau’s eyes narrowed on the metal tool stuck inside his neck.

“Guess we found our missing screwdriver,” Randy noted as the two men jumped out of the car, guns drawn.

“Where is she, Turner?” Beau prompted sternly, his finger itching to pull the trigger for everything he’d done to you. But knowing where you were was more important than a vendetta. Turner could only speak while he was alive.

And the man seemed to know it, too. Before the sheriff could call for back-up and an ambulance, Turner sneered and raised a hand, gripping the screwdriver tightly.

“No, don’t!”

Beau’s plea came too late. Hal Turner pulled the makeshift weapon out of his throat and collapsed to the ground, bleeding out within seconds.

Randy’s fingers landed on the man’s pulse point. He glanced up at his partner with a shake of his head. “He’s gone.”

Throwing his gun angrily into the rustling brushes, Beau gripped his temples and screamed into the void of the dark woods. Desperation clawed on his mind and heart. The fear of losing you for good took him prisoner. With labored breaths, he squeezed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and rubbed his tired eyes. Turner had been his last lead. He knew more wouldn’t be coming.

What now?

A sanctimonious beep of his phone drew his attention. A small part of him prayed it was Jenny, informing him you’d emerged a few miles up the road – bloody like Turner, but otherwise fine. Alive.

But his green eyes only found an email and darkened at the sender’s name. “Diane just sent me a link.”

Randy, caught in his own spiral, suddenly glanced up. “To what?”

“Livestream.”

Chapter 13: Sure And Certain

Another cliffhanger, and it looks like Diane's still having the last laugh 🙈

What did you think of this part? Were you surprised by Randy's revelation? He might've changed his mind on a few things 😉

See ya next week for the freaking finale 🤍

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rainroses45 · 2 days ago

Text

۶ৎ Disease ۶ৎ

۶ৎdescription: What if Dean didn’t go to hell but Sam did…and he finds him a little sinner who knows exactly what he needs (Sam Winchester x Demon Fem!Reader) ۶ৎa/n: I love this song so much and i wrote this at 2:36 am and i barely finished decorating it..umm oh my friend bella is here and she says hi :) (NOT EDITED) ۶ৎsong inspo: Disease - Lady Gaga ۶ৎwarning: blood, chains, hell, sam is a bottom? does that count i don’t know, YALL BETTER THANK YOUR LUCKY STARS @lovelolaslove WAS NICE ENOUGH TO WRITE A NSFW SCENE CAUSE I WAS NOT (handjob you know the rest)

The room swayed like a phantasmagoria, everything around him distorted, flickering in and out of focus. His breath comes in quick, shallow gasps, his body trembling with the fever of longing. He's so close-he can almost feel her, taste her. The chains are still there, but they feel weightless now, like a distant memory. All that matters is the figure dancing in his mind, the phantom he can never escape.

"I could be the doctor," her voice purrs through the fog of his mind, "I could cure your disease, baby." The words are a soft coo. Promises laced with sin and dripping with his ecstasy. She is in his head now, tangled in his thoughts, her presence overwhelming him, teasing him, haunting him.

He's slipping, drowning in the delusion of her. Like a sailor being lured to a sirens call, his mind was wrapped around her waiting for her to take a bite out of him. Let her suck his blood up with a simple kiss, and devour him in a single gulp.

He jerks his head toward the sound of her voice, but all he finds is darkness. He reaches out-his fingertips grazing nothing but air. The room is empty, cold. The only sound is the rustling of chains, as he tries to reach his lady in red.

"Eyes rolled back in ecstasy..." her voice echoes again, but this time, it's just a whisper.

It's everywhere, pressing against him, suffocating him.

He can hear it in every beat of his heart, feel it in the thrum of his pulse. His body aches, feverish, desperate for her to appear. He can't see her, but he feels her like a flame licking at his skin, like she's all around him, just out of reach.

He moans, his body fighting against the chains, desperate to break free, desperate to be closer to her. "Please," he breathes, his voice low, hoarse.

"Please, I need you... cure me... cure me, baby..." His mind spins further, caught in the pull of the delusion that she's real, that she's right there, waiting to save him.

But she's not there. The silence is all-consuming, the room colder than ever. He shivers, eyes squeezed shut, as the words twist in his head.

"I can smell your sickness... I can cure your disease," she murmured her voice now a seductive, taunting hum. It cuts through his thoughts, cutting deeper, driving him further into madness. The weight of her words presses down on him, squeezing every ounce of clarity from his brain, until there's nothing left but the desperate need to feel her, to be healed by her love. To be fucked by her.

He opens his eyes, blinking furiously, trying to find her, but it's no use. She's not there, and yet she is, like a dark shadow looming over him. "Where are you?" His voice is shaky, filled with the quiet madness of someone losing their grip on everything they once knew.

"Where are you? Please... I can't... I need you..I need you to help me!"

The air is thick with the scent of him-sick, broken, desperate-and it's almost like he can taste the sickness in the air, feel it on his skin. But she's not there to save him.

Her voice is a whisper, soft and insidious, like a poison seeping into his bloodstream.

It wraps around his mind, pulling him further into the madness. Her presence is a weight on his chest, a comforting pressure he can't escape. A pressure building up way below his mind, a pressure so tightening it caused him to shift against the chains in need for some sort of friction.

"Lay me your desire," she purrs, the words curling around him like smoke. "I could cure your disease." The way she says it-cure-like it's more than just a word. It's a promise. It's a spell. It's everything he's ever wanted.

His body twitches at the sound of her voice, aching with the hunger for her touch, for the mercy she offers, even though she's not truly there.

His hands strain against the chains, aching to break free, to reach out and touch her. He's lost, consumed by this hallucination, and yet, somehow, he craves it more than anything, “Please..." he gasps, his voice barely a whisper, laced with longing.

"Please... cure me..."

She laughs softly, a sound that feels like silk against his skin, and her voice drops lower, more seductive, as though she knows exactly how to push him over the edge.

"If you were a sinner, baby," she says, each word dripping with promise, "I could make you believe."

The air shifts, and he shudders at the thought, imagining her fingers trailing over his skin, tracing the sins he's buried deep inside. She knows. She knows everything. He doesn't even have to tell her. She sees him. All of him.

"I know all your secrets," she breathes, her voice so close now, it's like she's right behind him, her breath hot against his ear. He turns his head, but still, there's no one there. His heart hammers in his chest, his mind reeling from the intensity of her words.

The silence presses in, thick and suffocating, as the delusion begins to consume him entirely. She knows everything about him.

Everything. His sins. His desires. The things he's hidden away in the dark corners of his soul. She's the one who sees through it all, who can make it all better, can make him whole again.

His breath comes faster now, erratic, like he's drowning.

She's going to fix him. She's going to cure him. All he has to do is let go.

"I'm yours," he whispers, his voice trembling with raw need, the chains rattling softly as his body shudders under the weight of her imagined touch.

"Whatever you want, I'll give it to you. Please... cure me... make me believe."

Her laugh dances through his mind, light, almost like a lullaby. "I already do, baby," she purrs, her voice curling around him like velvet. "I always have."

She knelt in front of him, her nails raking lightly against his chest, trailing down to hover just above his sternum. He tenses slightly, eyes filled with desperation, he watches her with lidded eyes, mouth slightly open, as she palms him through his pants, leaving him a pathetic mess.

“Please, please…” she smirks. “Please what?” She continues her ministrations and Sam feels as though he could tear through the chains keeping him from touching her if it meant he could get her to touch him more.

He whines slightly, “please touch me— touch me more, please” as he speaks her hands make there way into his pants, dragging them down, and she wraps them loosely around his cock, stroking until a steady trail of pre cum oozes from the tip.

“But darling, i am touching you, don’t be so greedy.” She tsks.

Sam is already shaking his head, “no—ngh— not enough, please baby please… i’m begging you” his temptation pouts playfully “oh alright, since you begged so nicely” her hands tighten firmly around his cock, tugging and twisting until Sam is a whimpering mess, his hips thrusting into her hands for more friction.

“Yea, you like that baby? like my hands around your cock?” Sam nods, beads of sweat dripping down the side of his forehead and he looks down at his little devil, watching the way she has a slight smile on her face as she strokes his cock. “I- i’m close baby, please..” she looks up at him, pouting. “So soon? that’s alright, come for me baby." She gave a quick kiss to the pink tip before increasing the speed, hand tightening around his tip, thumb gliding over it, and Sam?

Sam can’t take it anymore, he cums with a groan, eyes shut as if in pain though he is far from it. His cum splashes onto his chest. His body shudders as he comes down from his high. She watches him closely, movements slowing until she removes her hand, licking the remnants of what she did to him clean.

“Oh baby," she moaned. "I hope you got more in you cause you are simply delicious.” And oh- sweet lovely Sam prayed he did.

PLS GO SUPPORT MY FRIEND SHE HAS SO MANY DRAFTS OF ONESHOTS SO GO FOLLOW AND LOVE HER STUFF SHE IS AMAZING @lovelolaslove

#supernatural #spn #lina writes #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x monster reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester is a bottom #sam winchester/you #sam winchester oneshot #i tried #i’m just a girl #i can’t write smut my bad #smut implied #smut writing #GO SUPORT MY FRIEND

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widebrimmedhatsblog · 2 hours ago

Note

ONYX STORM SPOILERS (for your readers)

If you feel like it, will you expand on how you think they are still involved romantically in the end of onyx storm? Like I get that they are married but that seems to more to secure Violet’s future without him. It doesn’t seem to be because he has any hopes of any kind of future for the two of them together. Romantically or otherwise. He doesn’t want her to look for him. Aren’t they as broken up as they can be at this point? I’d love to hear your thoughts (and love another/different perspective because these thoughts I’m currently having are honestly making me feel ill).

Also thank you for your contributions to the fandom!! Honestly I think fanfic is the only thing that’s gonna get me through this. Hope we get an upsurge of riorgail fluff from everyone 🙏🏼

I have never felt like doing anything more, anon!!! I get what you're saying, and I think that's the way Rebecca/Red Tower WANT us to see it, because they want us to be anxious about where it's going so that we buy the next book. However, I refuse to subscribe to that! Here's why:

(I wrote an actual essay, so it's below the cut:)

"Together romantically" My answer to the other ask was me visiting the Xaden Liarson school of verbal gymnastics so that I didn't spoil the ending for that anon. However, judging by Xaden's behavior throughout ALL of Onyx Storm (and frankly, books 1 and 2 as well) he wouldn't marry her just to dip overall. Like, even not being meta here, he wouldn't do that. He's selfish when it comes to her, for one thing, and he says this repeatedly. For another, he CLEARLY wants to marry her just to marry her. I don't want to get sucked in to another re-read (and someone else asked for my thoughts on the ending in general, so I'll reply to that ask once I'm done with my second re-read in the next few days with more page numbers and quotes and things) but in the scene with his mother, Xaden's reaction seems to illustrate that marriage is NOT a tool for him like it was for his father. He wants to marry Violet because he loves her. Now, obviously the shotgun (crossbow?) wedding was ALSO a move to protect her and solidify her place without him as you said, but with how he talked about marriage throughout the book, and how he talked about HER, he's not marrying her just to dip. He's just not! It means something to him, as she does, and he's not going to forsake that.

Violet Violet isn't letting him marry her just to dip either. Her thoughts throughout the entire book are that she isn't scared of him and she isn't running, and she isn't letting him run from her, either. The way the scene is set up with Sgaeyl, we see:

(Sgaeyl) glances over her shoulder. "And you think she'll help?" "She loves me." "Tairn does not, and you haven't looked in the mirror yet. The red veins branching from your eyes look like her lightning." "She'll help." It comes out with a hell of a lot more certainty than I feel. "She promised."

I am slightly worried about pronoun fuckery in this bit, but we know Violet loves him more than anything, and this portion of Xaden's chapter makes it clear Violet has to agree to whatever the plan is (murdering dragons, stealing eggs, etc) and that Tairn does as well. I think Tairn would actually support them breaking up, to a certain degree, and whatever the plan is, Sgaeyl does NOT think Tairn will be down.

And then, for more confirmation:

"We will ask," Sgaeyl finally says, flexing her claws in the rocky soil "And her decision will determine our fate."

They need Violet on board for whatever they're doing. Violet isn't going to be on board with him dumping her post wedding. I know some of these lines can point in other directions, but I don't think they do, for the reasons I'll go on to spell out below!

3. Memories I know some people were confused about what, precisely, Imogen made Violet forget, and it seems like she's missing 12 hours (which, insane signet growth, Im). I could not get over Violet forgetting her wedding. Hours after I finished the book, I was like, oh my God. She can't remember her wedding, and I burst into tears. Repeatedly. At length. Which is insane, because these books NEVER make me cry. All this to say, (again, given Xaden's tone specifically surrounding marriage) they aren't going to take having her forget their wedding lightly. They just aren't. She has to forget everything in those twelve hours, because she helps Xaden concoct/finalize whatever the hell he's planning on doing (I'll probably share what I think he's planning on doing in my response to the ask I mentioned above, but the gist of it for now is that mans is going on a quest of his own), but Violet ASKS Imogen to make her forget. In the marriage aspect, Xaden's protecting Violet, but in forgetting, Violet's protecting Xaden. This is why I say romantically together as well. I think the love is more important than anything else. I think the point of this book was to make it clear they'd both do absolutely anything for the other, and the ending is a culmination of that. I know some people suggested that they have her forget so that she can't be interrogated and used against him, and I think that's definitely true (although I think making her duchess also protects her from this, but Violet has always doubted her own ability to lie). Personally, my gut instinct interpretation was that deal she made with Ridoc that she'd let Ridoc kill him if Xaden took being venin too far (which, side note, do we all just forget about them being interconnected when it suits us??? He can't die because then Violet will die. We've been over this. I digress). Clearly everyone seems to think his little "display" at the end of the book is "too far." I don't know if he killed anyone important in that scene (again, I actually thought Bodhi dies? At first? And THAT was why she had to marry Xaden to secure the duchy while he was gone? but Red Tower seems to be very in tune to fandom priorities, and with how many people love Bodhi, killing him off page would certainly be a choice) but he's still at least an Asim, if not a Sage (given the veins, I'm 99% sure he's a Sage, but again, we don't get anything concrete in that ending. side eye, Red Tower. side eye.) and therefore everyone thinks he betrayed them, and he needs to get out of there before everyone else kills him! By forgetting, Violet is saving his life. That's romantically together to me.

4. Quest! Xaden doesn't leave Violet to pull an Edward and frolic around Europe for a few months or whatever it is. He has a plan. This what he shows Sgaeyl, I believe, and what Vi and Tairn have to agree on. It involves stealing the dragon eggs, killing the elders and/or the other dragons (save me third re-read of this damn scene, save me) and getting the hell out. @maethologies told me privately that the very act of going on the Quest means Xaden has hope for a "cure", just like Violet said he still had hope if he was trying to get Brennan to mend him. I think this is the Second Krovlan Uprising tie in: trade the dragon eggs (side note: why are there 7? did Andarna steal an egg and bring it back ????) and get allies against the venin (and eventually Navarre) (and perhaps do other cure-related tasks, idk). I also personally think Xaden's going to find more answers for Violet about her connection with Dunne. A huge theme of this book was that (explicitly) Xaden and Andarna don't know who they are, but Violet doesn't really know either. She spends book 3 helping them, and in book 4, I think they help her. Basically, he returns to the isles for quest part 2! Also, I think bringing 3 riders with him is a clear sign he's not just dipping. I'm hoping my second re-read helps me finalize who the hell he brought with him besides Garrick, but if they go to the isles like I'm thinking, my moneys on Dain or Aaric for the language translation (both of whom love Violet). I have a variety of other quest nonsense to share in the other ask, but the gist of it is that he is moving with a purpose! And his purpose is Violet! Because he's in love with her!

5. Meta This is where I get a LITTLE messy. I don't know if everyone reading this saw my 2024 reading wrap up, but I have read the vast majority of RY's catalog, and I consider myself to be very familiar with the themes she likes to write, and the situations she likes to return to, over and over again. A HUGE focus for her is the war in Afghanistan. She's been obsessed with that for ten years, which makes complete sense given who she is and her lived experiences. If you happen to not be super familiar with Rebecca as a person, her husband was in the military for a very long time, and her primary sub-genre is military romance. I don't know if this carries over internationally, but in the United States, marrying your partner early on in your military career is incredibly common, because it protects them in the event of your death and while you're deployed. I was really upset about him marrying her and then immediately leaving at first, but when I thought about it, it makes complete sense for who Rebecca is and what she's gone through. I'm not trying to accuse her of self inserting or anything like that, but she clearly likes to write situations that are important to her (as do I! As do we all!) and so it makes sense to me that she'd call upon something like this for X and V. It does NOT make sense to me that she'd call upon something she went through with her husband she's still married to and then make it a break up. Will it cause tension? Obviously! But to quote Mr. Riorson himself, they're past the break up stage. (Rebecca does some silly things with foreshadowing in her books, and sometimes she says things like this to prove them wrong, and other times, she says things like this prove them right. I really think this is a "prove them right" scenario, but I'm basing that off vibes, frankly, and my knowledge of her body of work. My Rebeccca-dar, if you will.)

6. Xaden Liarson I see your point about the note, and maybe I'm deranged, but I do actually just think he's lying. I don't think he's stupid enough to think she won't come looking for him at this point. He knows her too well for that. I think the "don't come looking for me" or whatever it is is a cover up for everyone else who thinks he betrayed Tyrrendor. Also, it slows her down! I am certain she'll look for him eventually (peep her broken compass from the god of luck, anyone?), but the note + the memory wiping make it so she can't immediately go looking for him. I think that's the point of it, not that she never looks for him again.

To conclude this literal essay, I think they're still together romantically because of Riorgail's most up-to-date characterization on their own and dynamic together, as well as who Rebecca is as a writer. I actually could probably write another essay on this, and I probably will in the other ask, but if there's anything else, let me know!! I need to bleed this book out of me so I can be normal again. But even if they are "broken up", it doesn't matter long term. The five book series WILL end with them together. That's how romantasy works. Xaden isn't dying. Violet isn't dying. Everyone else is fair game, but those two are fine, LOL.

Also, you are SO welcome for fic, always. I am not a fluff girly, unfortunately. I don't really write it in general, but we'll see if I get possessed. I do have a girl dad Xaden fic in the works (in which I have to re-work their wedding....) and I have some new smut ideas I want to write sometime soon! I think that will scratch the itch for me, anyway! As I've mentioned throughout this post, my hangover cure of choice has been to dive right back into Onyx Storm again, and I honestly think that was the best idea for me. I didn't do that after Iron Flame because I thought it was somehow "bad" to do so, and then I just longed for these characters for months. But, you do you! I wanted to make a masterpost of my hangover cure recs, but we'll see if I ever get to it. If you've read this far I am personally giving you a virtual gold star.

#helena's asks!#onyx storm spoilers #onyx storm #words cannot describe how much I love yapping about this book #like iron flame is my favorite because that book wrung me out like a towel #but this ones close! this is close.#thank you for asking nonny #if anyone has anything else let me know actually i'll be honored to write another essay

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orpheusluvr · 2 days ago

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Escape from Reality (Norton x Female Reader)

NSFW WARNING

What happens when you get stuck in a room alone with Norton?

Yes, ANOTHER fic based on his nymph awards skin since it’s coming out in 2 DAYSSSSSSSS

Also ngl this is kinda a silly fic since it’s pretty weird and I wrote it out of boredom so don’t take it serious as much 💀 (I’m so sorry help this is genuinely so bad)

“It’s no use. The door won’t open.” You said, desperately attempting to pull down the handle to the door.

“You sure it ain’t locked from the inside or something?” Norton said, looking into the mirror and adjusting his fedora.

“I already checked. It’s clearly locked from the outside.” You said, sighing.

How did you both even end up getting locked in the bathroom together?

Well, the red wine that spilled over your favourite dress was the reason you both were here in the first place. Even though it was Norton that spilled it, perhaps on purpose, he still wouldn’t own up to his actions.

But he did offer to help you “clean it up”, which was clearly useless as the stain had now became part of the dress itself.

You were about to turn around after giving up with your attempts to open the door when all of a sudden you heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down, followed by the sound of water droplets.

Your face twitched when you realised what was happening.

“Norton…are you seriously taking a piss while I’m here?” You said in disgust, turning around to glare at him while his back was facing yours.

“The hell am I supposed to do? Keep it in?” He said, annoyingly as he grabbed a piece of toilet paper and wiped himself off. After flushing the toilet, he suddenly turned around to glare at you, his dick still out and he was holding it with his hand. Your eyes immediately saw it and gasped, he wasn’t even fully erect yet it was still so big.

Norton didn’t realise at first, but when he saw your expression and how your gaze was fully locked onto the lower part of him, he looked down then gave a small smirk.

“Not so disgusted now, are you?” His voice was laced with lust as he looked back up at you.

You shook your head, trying to snap out of your thoughts.

“I wasn’t even looking at that, I was thinking of a way to get out of here.” You said.

He gave a small laugh, slowly approaching you. Your eyes widened when he came closer, his face only a few inches away from yours.

“Liar.” He whispered in your ear. You felt his blonde hair tickle against your cheek while his tip grazed against your sensitive core against the fabric of your dress and you bit your lip.

Seeing your reactions turned him on even more, his erection grew as much as his desire.

“Someone’s getting horny.” He gave a chuckle that could easily send anyone into shock. This was the angry prospector that barely smiled or laughed, anyways. Seeing him in this state had started to take an effect on you, but you couldn’t help but keep denying it.

“W-wash your hands first.” You gulped, in annoyance as you desperately tried to hide the wetness in your panties.

Norton rolled his eyes.

“You’re as dirty as me, and you’re telling me to wash my hands.” He said, but still walked to the sink anyways. He looked at your reflection in the mirror as you shifted left and right, your arousal growing the more you thought about him.

Once he finished and dried his hands, he returned back to you.

“Happy now?” He said.

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes. Your face twitched when you immediately felt a cold hand slide up your thigh from beneath your dress. You let out a whimper when you felt 2 fingers press against your clothed entrance.

“Mm…so wet for me, aren’t ya?” Norton laughed, sliding his fingers against the fabric and sending a fresh wave of arousal to your core with these simple movements alone.

You couldn’t hide how much you wanted him anymore as you let out a needy moan.

“Norton…please…” you whimpered.

His laughs increased.

“So dirty and desperate. I like that.” He said, pulling your panties down. His fingers met your entrance again, tracing over the folds and collecting your slick with each stroke. You desperately thrusted onto his fingers, urging him to enter. After seeing your desperate efforts, he finally did.

Your back was pressed against the wall, one of Norton’s hands played with your clit while the other was still holding his dick, pumping it a couple of times. Once he was satisfied, he brought his other hand to his face, coated with your slick and he licked every part of it, savouring the taste of your sweet cum. He then turned you around, making you arch your back for him as he lifted the hem of your dress.

He groaned as he admired the view of you from behind, your perfect plump ass and your thighs were driving him crazy.

He entered you with no hesitation, your breathing increased as you felt him fill you up. He loved how your walls greeted and hugged him so tightly.

“Have you ever been fucked before?” He suddenly asked.

You gulped, feeling embarrassed.

“No…this is my first time.” You said.

Norton gave a satisfied groan, moving his face closer to yours.

“Good. Cuz I wanna be the first and only man that gets to see you like this.” He purred, kissing the side of your face as he began thrusting. One hand gripped tightly against your arm that was pinned on the wall, while the other securely held onto the side of your waist.

“Ngh…Norton…” you moaned every time you felt him almost hit your sweet spot. He groaned in response, watching you arch your back higher for him and make it easier for him to reach his goal.

There was a sudden knock on the door.

“Who’s in there?! I need a shit!” Naib’s angry voice echoed outside the room.

You suddenly let out a loud moan when Norton hit your sweet spot, and you immediately covered your mouth with your hand to muffle out the remaining sound. Norton pushed your hand away, a grin appearing on his face. You whined in response.

“What the fuck is going on in there?” Naib yelled again.

“None of your business dumbass, go take a shit outside or something. We’re locked in here anyways.” Norton said, thrusting deeper into you and causing you to moan uncontrollably.

“I’m taking a shit in your room then. Works good enough as a bathroom anyways.” Naib said, walking away.

“Disgusting bastard, he better be joking with me or else.” Norton said.

He ran his hand through your hair.

“Anyways, you close yet, love?” He said.

“Y-yeah…” you said.

Now there was more knocking heard outside the door.

“Norton? You okay in there? Naib told me you’re locked inside.” Florian called out.

“Not now Florian, I’m dealing with someone.” Norton called out.

Someone? Florian thought.

He then curiously pressed his head against the door, and managed to listen to a few quiet moans and groans. He smirked, realising what Norton had meant.

“Never mind then, I’ll get you both out once you’re done.” Florian called out, walking away.

#identity v fanfic #identity v x you #idv x reader #idv x you #identity v x reader #idv fanfic #idv smut #norton campbell #idv norton #identity v norton #norton x reader #norton campbell x reader

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phantomsies · 3 months ago

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on second thought, I’m thinking I should’ve never come back to this app lmao

#🪷—faerie whispers #cause girl what is the actual fucking point anymore #it ain’t shit but JJK on this app #and I’m so goddamn tired of seeing it #I never have time to write anymore and when I do #it feels so underwhelming #like I’m hating everything I’ve put out in the past two months #sorry y’all #i’m having a bad day #I’m just exhausted and my one escape actually feels like hell now #the negative thoughts win again #literally proved my point from months ago #that it was never abt what we write #it was who we wrote for #I’m seeing rapper sukuna #plug choso #and baby daddy toji #the same hcs all the aot writers got shit and ran off of here for LMAO #the jokes write themselves #I thought it was classless and ghetto and harmful to blk women 🤪#or do y’all make passes for ur fuck ass favs just curious

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suckinitup · 20 days ago

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lil writing I foud in the drafts. TW disassociation and brain fog

Vyncent doesn't feel awake.

He blinks down at the stove, slow, and tries to remember what he was making. Soup, his mind supplies, but that's obviously not right. It's a frying pan in front of him with little cubed pieces of beef. His knife is in one hand, a spatula in the other. There's still muck on his knife. He puts the spatula down in the pan to stir, but his attention is drawn again to his knife. Why hadn't he cleaned it off, yet?

Hands to pocket, finds his cloth, hesitates. Raw meat juice. Can't contaminate anything. That's the important thing in cooking. Not contaminating your surfaces.

Wait. Aren't people raw meat? His cloth is already contaminated, and so is his knife. That's okay then. They're allowed to be gross, the way that cutting boards are allowed to be gross. He'll just have to wash his hands afterwards.

He puts his cloth to the knife and pauses, stares at it. He's just standing there. Everything feels like cotton, like fabric between his finger and an edge.

Careful, that's right, that's what he was trying to remember. Careful along the blade so he doesn't cut, doesn't dull. Just wipes clean.

Knife away. Cloth in pocket. A pan in front of him, sizzling, and a spatula left inside it. He goes to grab the spatula by the handle, remembers the contamination, and withdraws. The sink...?

Behind him. Washing his hands is important. He goes to do that. Nothing is connecting right and he tries to focus on the steps. Water, soap, lather. The sink keeps running. Vyncent stares at the water flow, uncomprehending as his hands run over each other.

"Vyncent?"

Vyncent looks up to see Dakota. "Oh. Hey."

Dakota's eyes sweep over the scene. His eyes narrow a little and he frowns--his thinking face. Vyncent resigns himself to patient waiting, but the expression disappears as quickly as it had arrived. "Bad day?" Dakota asks, voice soft.

"Huh?"

Vyncent looks down. His hands are still under the running faucet. He doesn't know how long he's been here.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess."

It's a little easier with Dakota there, moving around behind him. Like watching the hands of a clock, seeing the time move in front of him. Vyncent turns off the water, starts dying his hands as he listens to the little click of the stove turning off behind him. Oh, that weird smell is like burning. That's probably what drew Dakota in here. "...Is it rude to order pizza?" Dakota asks, almost hesitant. It's weird for Dakota to act delicate, like Vyncent is fragile. That's a mode usually reserved for William. Vyncent isn't sure how to act when its turned on him. Not sure how to feel about it.

"Nah," Vyncent answers, putting extra effort into the casual shrug of his shoulder. Look at him, feeling fine. "Pineapple?"

"Will's going to kill you," Dakota says easily. "Yeah, pineapple. Hey, how about a movie?"

"Something scary?"

"I'll ask Will to pick," Dakota decides. He presses forwards, effectively herding Vyncent towards the other room. Vyncent feels mildly irritated, and mildly fond. The cotton is thinner, and his thoughts are easier to hold on to. He's awake enough, even, to go to the couch without prompting and have the forethought to adjust the pillows, grab the blankets. He hears Dakota on the phone behind him, already ringing up the pizza place, so he takes it upon himself to pre-choose a few movie selections for William. He doesn't have to. It's probably a little rude. He wants to pick at least a little, like he has to prove that he can. But also. He doesn't want to watch the Bee Movie right now.

It's nice, though, when William comes in and takes a pick from Vyncent's selections. It's nice when they're all bundled onto the couch, Dakota's head in his lap and William a warm line against his side. Solid weight. It's still a bad day. Still hard to focus on the movie, hard to follow the plot. It's a nice bad day, though, and right now that's enough.

#im not sure disassociation is the right thing here?#ill change it if anyones got a better description #its based off of one of My weird days but idk if that was weird head shit or migraine flavoured weird head shit and not applicable to like #more typical experiences #i coulda researched but i wrote this whilst in the throes so tbh idrc #anyway. points. da vinki.#pd #i think hed be uncomfortable with dakota being sweet to him but its been so long since i lisgened to pd i cant rememmver why #early season vyncent wpuldve been fine but i think? late season vyncent is too busy trying to truck through #he went home and then he left again and he didnt even talk about it to his besties #like man. okay #i think i was surprised when they called him an overthinker because i always took him as the dont-think-about-it type #hes less likelly to consider consequences yknow #like his side quests snd his credit card debt and chasing rats at bad times and working with mal #<<<<< actually i just remembered he briedly worked with mal hang on.#i forrgot about that shit. im always thinking about wiwi and mark during that period but vyncent literally was carrgin mals shit around that #whole time. heyo what the hell #parallels.....#ANYWAY. hi. now bye. i gotta do some Reading for Educational Purposes

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feline-evil · 9 months ago

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Dick or no dick confirmation Pickles was always going to be trans to me anyways; if he's swingin' somethin that's phallo babes, if he's not then his t-dick fat. What's not to get.

#metalocalypse #jay talkin #I'm sorry they wrote that awful gross little man far too likeable and relatable to on a trans level #for me not to hoot and holler and cheer for the trans pickles agenda #changes nothing about his character arc or any of the show anyone is capable of being the kind of person he is #don't make the mistake of thinking thats exclusive to cis men #his transness wouldnt change that #only adds on an extra layer to him that i think works fantastically.#Listen that dude was rejected by his family driven to drink and drugs young to escape that ran away to be in a band #is called fucking Pickles of all things and refuses to tell anyone his real last name;#over the span of four seasons and two movies he slowly starts to learn to be for others what he never had #he becomes more caring more supportive #it's not a stretch to say he undoes some of the toxic masculinity he's been keeping himself shielded behind #and learns how to be a kinder man.#all of which have no contradictions with him being trans!#In fact it doesn't take much extra thought to find ways a lot of this can line up with some trans masculine experiences #i mean. Did no one else have a younger phase where they swung as far as they could into crass rude and uncaring ways #to try and assert their masculinity only to grow and realise that you can be a man and be more caring.#Did no one else have father issues. 1 800 come on now i know those are both shared experiences a lot of us have had LOL.#at the end of the day this show aired nearly 20 years ago and is finished. we're not getting more of it #so nothing is altered nor changed if pickles is canonically trans or not ok. its fine #i mean hell i dont even need canon confirmation hes trans to me and thats all i care abt #but i think if yr getting suuuuuper weird abt needing him not to be canonically trans you have some issues #and bio essentialist ideals of gender if you think only a cis man can act like he does #again. anyone can be like that. its not exclusive. him being trans would not change him in any way shape or form lol #AND ALSO GODDDUUUGH for once i love getting to see a guy pushing 50 whos depicted as trans #do you have any idea how dire and barren it is out here. we never get to see a trans guy older than 30 and whos not a pristine model #I WANT MORE OLD SHLUBBY SHITHEAD TRANS GUYS IN MEDIA

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thelovers-thedreamers-and-me · 4 months ago

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the downside to being a sitcom neighbour sort of person is that when rough things happen and emotionally fuck u up a lil bit, it also sounds completely made up

#bert's dead dad tag #found out today the way my dad told mom he wanted a divorce?#he wrote her a letter and left it on the dining room table for her to find on the morning of her fortieth birthday #who the fuck does that dead father #like that is the sort of thing i would entirely make up if i needed everyone at the table to fuckin hate an npc #and at least one person would go 'you're laying it on a little bit heavy'#i know he did work to become a better person as he got older #which is good because BOY howdy was that man a piece of shit in the early 90s #and we are having Complicated feelings about it tonight and also for the last nine months #something something when i was writing his eulogy i came across an old article discussing something he did in the 90s #YDIP (your dad is problematic)#like yeah this is the sort of thing that would have been vaguely acceptable in the cultural context #but like. still objectively bad. potentially ruining several lives sort of bad.#learned this and then wrote the rest of his eulogy about how he was a great guy and how i'm lucky to have been his son #(which was rough enough on its own because i've never said 'i'm [dad's name]'s son' as many times as i did that trip home)#but like what else do you do? i sent off a message looking for more information #and that information if it comes is just gonna sit with me i guess #sure as hell not telling my sister and this whole thing i've been getting through without really having anyone here for me to talk to #(hence the big fuckoff tag rant. your problem now losers who like clicking the read more button)#so even if i get all the answers i want about this one thing it's not gonna do any good except putting an end to one question #but part of having a dead dad who's been out of the business of forming new memories since you came out is having more questions #answering this one's just gonna add even more questions to the pile #but. got fuckall else to do

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fishparasite · 7 months ago

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quite genuinely i am in awe of smut writers. i tried it once and nearly died of embarrassment and i'm not even particularly shy about sex.

#also. no pun intended here. IT'S FUCKING HARD #anyway i'm thinking about continuing what i wrote last year for my friend. but now they're characters of mine #you would think that the fact that it was for my friend made it harder but nah it was easier he has low standards #i felt so bad when months later he was like ''your writing is so good i'm kind of intimidated by you''#because the only real writing of mine he's seen is. priest smut. that i didn't write another draft of because ''eh he has low standards''#oh my god i nearly forgot about how he told me he was intimidated by me like over a year into our friendship #literally what the hell was that i had written priest smut for him by that point #oh my god i just remembered that he called me brooding and mysterious. what is it with people making me into someone like that #it happens SO much. why am i mysterious. why am i enigmatic #i meow in public. how brooding can i be #he's such a weird guy and i am baffled by most of the things he says #still very fond of him #this went on such a tangent #persimmon's rambles

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tonariofjananda · 1 year ago

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For the ask game: Tonari - 5, 7, and 12!

Heya Ray! Ok here goes

5) What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

Honestly I’ve got a handful, most for maybe a line or two of association, but the first one that came to mind when reading this question that’s completely hers in my head was “The Moon Will Sing” by the Crane Wives. I love imagining the song as her reflecting on her dad, friends, Hayase, and Fushi, and how they’ve all contributed to the way she feels about herself and her legacy. Fun fact, the association came about from my mishearing of a line as “I shine only with the life you gave me,” the original word being “light” instead of “life.” But the more I reflected on the song, the more I felt her presence in it (I described this to my best friend as Tonari clawing her way to the surface lol), especially in the third verse. That one in particular draws a really vivid image to me of what Tonari’s headspace must have been right after Fushi pulled her away from the flames. I imagine she’s remorseful that she couldn’t give her friends a better life and is rallying to find her courage to kill them before Fushi steps in. “Instead you hoarded all that’s left of me” is a complicated little line too, filled with the bitterness and confusion at Fushi of keeping her from death. There’s not much left of her with the death of her friends, what Fushi did was selfish, but also implies Tonari didn’t realize Fushi cared if she lived or died. Then he takes the sword from her hands, “swallowing your doubt,” and she’s… grateful, angry, upset… but most of all, she acknowledges the mutual hesitance between herself and Fushi, even though they both know this is the only course of action. Even though it makes her feel like he’s taking the sword through her own body. He might as well be. The line “I want to feel the fire that you kept from me” is the most straightforward in my opinion, and what really solidified this song as being hers for me. It’s a little funny what I’ve done here tbh. The song probably meant the line as “i want to become the person you stopped me from being, I want to regain the life that was supposed to be mine,” but for this Tonari interpretation, I’ve given it the opposite implication… cough

Anyway, the chorus also kind of ties in with another song I somewhat associate with her, “Your Best American Girl” by Mitski, for the lines “Well I’m not the moon/I’m not even a star,” but I’ll spare you the analysis for that and “Goodbye My Danish Sweetheart” (also by Mitski) til… later 👀❗️

For now, I’ll leave you with the three following, lighter songs: Laufey called “Best Friend,” which I listen to as something directed towards the immortal army as a whole; “Wings,” by So!YoON! and Phum Viphruit as a song between her and Ligard and Fushi woah who said that; and “A Thousand Years” by Christina Perri bc immortalism and the heartbreak of waiting to reunite with someone. Also please imagine the second verse as being from Fushi’s perspective on getting not just her but all of their friends back at the end of the past era arc with potentially rough implications for their thought process in the modern arc WHO SAID THAT

7) What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

(Lyn asked me this too so I’ll cover it here for the two of ya!)

Tbh… I just like it when anyone talks about her ówò Tonari tends to get overlooked- even tho I’d argue she’s something of a deuteragonist- so I really just love whenever people acknowledge her importance to the story and show some enthusiasm for her plotlines. In terms of stories and fan art, it’s always awesome to see all the different sides of her shine through! Tonari’s badass, bitchy, and a little judgmental, but she’s also fashionable, studious, and warm, especially toward March and Eko. It’s also nice to see the occasional silliness she used to show on Jananda shine through every now and then. She’s changed a lot by the next arc, for obvious reasons, but she was pretty silly to Hisame when she was inviting herself to dinner, I don’t think all that playfulness should just disappear! So it’s nice to see fans playing with Tonari without vilifying her ;w; Also without reducing her to her feelings for Fushi, because yeah she has some but that’s not the only thing she’s about (even tho…. I fixate a lot… on that particular subject……… cough). While I’m on the subject, I really love that most ToFu art is limited to things like gentle physical affection. A head on a shoulder (I spent hours running around my house when you sent me that pic Ray, HOURS), a meaningful hug, and touching hands- an absolute must if you like em. I’m definitely getting carried away now though…

12) What's a headcanon you have for this character?

(Limit yourself, limit yourself, limit yourself…!!!)

(Also Coop if you’re reading this, the green one is the only safe one lol)

Bisexual Tonari is an obvious one, I’m convinced she was attracted to Parona’s form (who isn’t in this show tho lmao), and I find those ship posts between Tonari and Mizuha to be so fun tbh. Enemies to lovers maybe, invited to hold hands with her and Hanna! That theory you had about Nagisa having a crush on Tonari lives in my head rent free too, absolutely canon to me. Actually the MizuNariHanna stuff would be extra funny in a world where Nagisa has a crush on Tonari bc now Mizuha’s a girl stealer too! Nagisa just can’t win!!!

Tonari loves writing! And she’s a woman in STEM! Not a headcanon just fact but it lays down the groundwork for my following headcanon: she probably went away to grad school or something. Bon asked if Tonari knew how to do surgery, implying to my insane head that she’s probably gone away for school or something, maybe even received a doctorate, but Bon doesn’t know what for. Her stitches look a bit spaced out and wonky tbh, so she probably doesn’t have the patience for things like needlepoint. I’d wager her calling probably isn’t physical art either haha.

She absolutely goes drinking with the immortal trio + Bon and maybe Gugu once she’s old enough to do so (… would Hairo drink? Designated driver Hairo Rich, but also it’d be so funny if he’s completely normal in the stupidest way while drunk. “Stands like perfectly normal but topples over the second he goes to take a step” typa drunk- BUT THIS ISNT ABOUT HIM SORRY). I think they’d love having Tonari around to pal around with! I imagine that old Jananda arc silliness comes out full force then, if her excitement at Mizuha’s birthday was anything to go off ✌️

(This one’s safe Coop!) Her hair’s been short and choppy since before she got to Jananda so I like to think she did that little kid thing where she tried cutting her own hair and it came out looking uneven. Instead of letting her parents fix it though, she just insisted it wasn’t a mistake and wore it out like that for years. Then when she got to Jananda all the scissors sucked so she just had to keep cutting her hair in the same shabby way. Mia and Oopa having long hair is so funny to me too cuz I imagine they wouldn’t let Tonari get anywhere near them with scissors in her hand (OK stop reading here Coop!)

While I’m here, i think Tonari probably sees a little bit of her old friends in the immortal army tbh. Like, @/alphaofdarkness made the connection that March probably reminded Tonari of Oopa ;; So I feel like Gugu could remind Tonari of Uroy in some ways too, like in the buff, blond, older brother figure kind of way. Eko could remind her of young Sandel in the same way both were kind of upbeat and cute, but quiet in a way that they faded a little in the group (my brother INSISTED Sandel had NOT been there the entire time we were watching the Jananda arc). Meanwhile Messar might remind her of the older Sandel, the kind who probably was more like a brotherly shithead to her after all their years of growing up together. And Mia… imma be honest Mia’s weird as hell, chair fighting, curly hair collecting? Ain’t nobody doing it like Mia 🫡 ACTUALLY ITS BON, BON TOTALLY REMINDS HER OF MIA LMAO

OK IM ENDING IT THERE (Believe it or not this is me limiting myself, I’d typed out an entire section on Tonari’s relationship with each of the members of the immortal army). Hope these were decent enough responses to your questions Ray!

If you- or anyone- has anymore questions on Tonari or literally anyone else please feel free to send them! I have thoughts on like literally everyone, no character too obscure ✌️

#Nova Rambles #Ask Game #Tonari #Tonari of Jananda #Tonari Dalton #Fumetsu no Anata e #To Your Eternity #To You The Immortal #long post #what a fun little exchange we had here Ray!#I never mentioned this but I’m the dumbass who sent the anonymous Kahaku question #sending asks anonymously is second nature to me but I didn’t realize it done it for your question so I do apologize 🤦‍♀️#anyway I mean it when I say no character is too obscure I swear I’ll do it #for example my favorite Hayase descendant is Oumi for some fucking reason #I know everyone’s going wild for Doro rn (and I agree she’s cute as hell!!!) but so far she hasn’t outranked Oumi as number 1 for me yet lo #God I should include a ‘read more’ tab but I’m not sure after which one #I hope the long post tab is good enough for now #edit: I realized like just now I wrote Crane Sisters instead of Crane Wives idk why how misremembered so bad

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