#one of the many romances I regret rejecting

[moeitsu]

The Tie Which Linked My Soul To Thee

Ch 28 - I Would Not Cause Her One Regret

Summary: Under the tender care of Wapiti's medicine woman, Kate receives life-changing news that will forever alter the course of her and Arthur's future. In the midst, she uncovers a gift left by Hosea, something that will carry them through the journey ahead.

Ao3  Wattpad Masterlist - All Chapters Previous Chapter /

AN: 12k Words. This is my new favorite chapter, it really felt like it wrote itself at times. (There is smut coming but I'm putting it in its own chapter bc its quite long...)

Tag List: @photo1030 @ariacherie @thatweirdcatlady @ultraporcelainpig @marygillisapologist @eternalsams @lunawolfclaw  @yallgotkik @sawendel

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

Story Tags: Canon Divergence, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Emotional Sex, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Sexual Tension, Friends to Lovers, Trauma, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Violence, Survivor Guilt, Caretaking, Period-Typical Racism, Anxiety, Emotional Constipation, Self-Doubt, Men Crying, Sweet/Hot, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff

Freedom is an untamed beast, wild and feral, impossible to hold without losing a part of yourself. Some give everything for it, others bleed for it, and many spend their lives chasing its shadow, never knowing it was in their grasp all along.

As they rode deeper into the mountains, the weight of civilization fell away, its rules and customs crumbling like ash in the wind. Out here, the world belongs to no one and everyone all at once. The land answers only to the sky, and the only law is the one written in the marrow of your bones. It doesn’t ask who you are or where you’ve been—it just demands you let go.

Freedom is riding wild over untamed lands with no notion any moment exists beyond the one you are living.

Arthur followed in the shadow of Eagle Flies, the young man’s figure cutting a determined path against the twilight. Kate rested sideways in his lap, her body fragile and fevered, a weight that felt heavier than it should. She shivered against him, her shallow breaths hitching with every bump of the trail. Arthur’s heart clenched with every sign of her pain, a cruel reminder that he’d pushed her too far.

He muttered promises she might not even hear, low reassurances that the journey would be over soon, that she’d be safe and warm again. But those words felt hollow when measured against the fire in her cheeks and the trembling in her frame. All he could do was hold her close, shielding her from the chill and praying the people of Wapiti would welcome them with the same warmth he couldn’t give her.

The trek from Annesburg had been relentless—hours of climbing rugged hills, navigating shadowed valleys, and crossing the jagged spines of Roanoke Ridge. The land felt as hostile as the men who wandered it. Breathing down their necks from places unseen, watching, and waiting. 

They’d stumbled upon horrors Arthur prayed Kate wouldn’t remember. 

It began with a stench, sickly sweet and cloying, clinging to the air like decay itself. The source revealed itself— human remains strewn across the earth, picked clean, as though the forest itself had rejected the bodies. A band of cannibals had appeared from the trees. Their gaunt faces twisted with a feral hunger as they crept out like pale writhing maggots. 

Arthur didn’t hesitate. He silenced them with well-placed shots, each echoing like the rusted throat of a bell through the forest. Not bothering to wait and see who fell; he just kept firing until every movement ceased. And not a flicker of regret crossed his face. 

Kate had turned her face into his chest, her fingers clutching weakly at his coat as though she could block out the reality around them. He held her tighter, shielding her from the sight, from the smell, from everything.

From that moment, his resolve hardened. There would be no more stops, no moments of rest, no lingering—not until they reached Wapiti. 

The trail was long, but he’d make it shorter, cutting through the heart of the wilderness with single-minded determination. The thought of Kate enduring even a fraction more of this hell lit a fire in him that wouldn’t burn out until they reached safety.

As the earth turned, indifferent to their struggles, dawn unfurled its golden threads across the sky, soft light spilling over the edges of the world. The warmth kissed their weary faces, yet the weight in Arthur’s lap tethered him to the gravity of his purpose. Each breath he took felt borrowed, a quiet prayer carried on the fragile morning air.

Through the trees, thin tendrils of smoke rose from Wapiti, winding skyward like whispers from the land itself. Arthur felt as though he was standing on the edge of time, suspended between heartbeats, daring the wind to bear them the final stretch. Every creak of the saddle and rustle of leaves seemed to echo a silent plea: only a little farther.

Freedom isn’t found; it’s forged. It doesn’t merely cost blood—it demands it, devours it. 

It is no gentle gift but a treasure wrested from the clenched fists of an unforgiving world. And as Arthur urged the horse forward, he wondered if they had paid enough, or if freedom would always slip out of reach, like the rising smoke dissipating into the golden sky.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

The horse’s hooves crunched softly against the brittle earth as Arthur guided Belle closer to Eagle Flies, the small, weathered expanse of Wapiti rising like a tired sigh from the valley floor. Cradled by towering gray cliffs and ancient pine trees, the reservation felt like the last refuge of a vanishing world—its fragility stark against the sprawl of the wilderness. The morning sun spilled its light like a hesitant blessing, but the shadows it cast were long and pointed, heavy with the weight of memories too sharp to be forgotten.

Smoke curled skyward from tepee tops like prayers, their buffalo-hide walls painted with bold strokes of lineage and defiance. The symbols seemed to pulse with life, stories etched into the skin of survival itself, each one a declaration against time’s relentless erosion. 

They stood not as monuments, but as promises that these people, this place, would endure, even as the world threatened to erase them.

The land bore its own wounds, raw and desolate. The soil beneath the settlement was cracked like parched lips, its breath caught in the barren lungs of fields where crops clung to life by sheer will. What should have been lush and thriving felt ghostly, the very earth seeming to groan under the strain of expectation and loss. 

Arthur saw it in the sag of the tepees, the defeated gait of a hunter returning empty-handed, and the thin wisps of smoke curling from modest cooking fires. Every detail spoke of a people stretched thin, their resilience a thread pulled taut.

And yet, amid the weariness, life stirred with a quiet insistence. Children darted between the structures like sparks in a dying fire, their laughter piercing the stillness with a wild, fleeting joy. A mother’s soft hum drifted like a lullaby carried on the wind, soothing her swaddled infant against her breast. Friends huddled close around a small fire, their voices low but warm, weaving moments of solace into the fabric of their shared burdens.

Arthur felt the weight of it all settle in his chest, heavy as lead. This place was a battleground of hope and despair, its spirit caught in a delicate dance between resilience and surrender. He wasn’t sure if Wapiti held the answers or the salvation they sought.

But as he took in the quiet persistence of its people, he couldn’t deny that even here, on the edge of collapse, life refused to be extinguished.

A young man, lean and sharp-eyed, emerged from behind one of the larger tepees, his gaze locking onto the approaching group. He called out, his voice edged with relief and suspicion. “Eagle Flies! You live, brother!”

Eagle Flies straightened in his saddle, though the weariness in his body was apparent. “I live, Paytah,” he replied calmy, even as his wounds betrayed his struggle.

Paytah’s sharp gaze shifted to Arthur and Kate. The lines around his mouth deepened as his lips pressed into a thin line. “Why have you brought these outsiders here? Their kind has brought nothing but suffering to our people,” he said, walking alongside them as they entered the heart of the reservation. His voice carried the weight of distrust, each word a stone cast into the quiet tension that rippled in the air.

“It is well, brother. They are friends,” Eagle Flies said firmly, leaving no room for argument. “This man saved my life when the soldiers were ready to take it.”

Paytah’s eyes narrowed as he studied Arthur and Kate. The pale faces, the tired eyes—signs of struggle etched into their features. Though his skepticism remained, the authority in Eagle Flies’ words softened his stance. With a grunt, he stepped forward and offered Eagle Flies an arm, helping him down from the saddle with care.

As Eagle Flies’ feet touched the ground, the murmurs began. Men and women emerged from their tepees, leaving behind their weaving, cooking, and quiet conversations to gather around. Faces painted with years of hardship and resilience bore a mixture of joy at the sight of their chief's son and unease at the presence of the outsiders. The voices grew louder, some calling his name with relief, others muttering words of doubt and disapproval.

Through the growing crowd, a booming voice silenced the whispers like a sudden burst of wind. “My son!”

Chief Rains Fall stepped forward, his long, dark hair swaying with each purposeful stride. His weathered face, etched with the wisdom of a lifetime, twisted with concern as he took in his son’s battered appearance.

“What has happened to you?” he demanded, a rich, steady baritone that carried the gravity of a man used to commanding attention. “Speak now and speak only the truth. What has brought this upon you?”

The crowd parted, creating a wide berth as Rains Fall reached his son. His hands hovered over Eagle Flies as if afraid to touch him and worsen his injuries. The chief’s gaze flickered briefly to Arthur and Kate before returning to his son, his brow furrowing with unspoken questions.

Arthur remained silent, standing firm at Belle’s side, his gaze steady but respectful. Kate, pale and feverish, leaned weakly against him. He tightened his grip on her, feeling the stares of the gathered tribe like the heat of a midday sun, judgment burning in their eyes. 

This was not his story to tell, not his place to speak.

Eagle Flies swallowed hard, voice hoarse but steady as he spoke. “Father…I led a group of men to attack a military camp outside of Saint Denis.”

“Saint Denis?” Rains Fall’s thundered, the disbelief and disappointment woven through every syllable. “You told me you were going to the mountains to seek guidance from your spirit! Do you think me a fool, my son? Your lies wound my pride deeply. Where are the others who followed you into this madness?”

Eagle Flies’ shoulders slumped beneath the weight of his father’s condemnation. “Gone,” he admitted. “Their spirits have joined the wind.”

A shadow of sorrow passed over Rains Fall’s face, his disappointment settling like a heavy cloud in his chest. “How many times must I warn you, Eagle Flies? Reckless violence will not free us—it will only hasten our ruin. Do you not see the storm you bring upon us with these careless actions? The blood spilled today will stain your hands forever.” His voice rose through the air like thunder. “Go now! Find the mothers of the men you led to their deaths and tell them what your pride has cost.”

Eagle Flies stiffened, his face flushing with fury despite the bruises that marred it. “What choice did we have, Father?” he retorted, raw with anger and pain. “They treat us like cattle, pen us in as though we are less than human. How long must we endure their humiliation before we fight back?”

“You have done enough!” Rains Fall cut him off, his voice harsh. His hand rose in a dismissive gesture, the finality in it brooking no argument. “Go! Do not make me ask again, Eagle Flies.”

Eagle Flies hesitated, his chest heaving with unspent rage, but the command in his father’s tone left no room for rebellion. With a sharp exhale, he turned and walked away, his steps heavy with resentment and shame. The crowd parted silently to let him pass, their eyes a mix of sympathy and reproach.

Rains Fall watched him go, his expression unreadable, the burden of leadership heavy upon his shoulders. Around him, the murmurs of the tribe swelled like an incoming tide, but he stood resolute, his grief and disappointment hidden behind a mask of fleeting strength.

The crowd lingered as Rains Fall raised a hand, the gesture firm and commanding, though weariness sat heavy on his shoulders. His voice, when it came, was quiet but filled with authority.

“The time for words has passed,” he said, but the deep lines etched in his face spoke of exhaustion and sorrow. His gaze swept over the crowd, ensuring they understood the finality of his command. “Go now. Each to your thoughts. There is nothing more to be said here.”

Arthur stood in silence, his chest tight, unsure of how to respond. The words stuck in his throat, choking him, while Kate shifted against him, seeking comfort and rest. She needed it—desperately. Her breath was shallow, her body fragile. The tension in the air was thick, like dust settling after a stampede, an uneasy silence that hung between them all.

Paytah took hold of Lorena and Belle’s reins, guiding the horses away from the crowd. The heavy, unspoken understanding between the two men—the weight of what had just transpired—lingered. But Rains Fall’s gaze softened as he watched his people leave, the movement of the horses an echo of the quiet dispersing crowd. After a moment, he turned back to Arthur, his posture still tall, but his age and wisdom seemed to press on him, slowing his movements.

He looked Arthur over, his tired eyes searching for something—an understanding, perhaps, or a reason to be at peace with what had just unfolded.

“Arthur Morgan…” Rains Fall began, gentler now, though his tone still carried gravity. He extended a hand toward him, a solemn gesture of gratitude. “I can’t thank you enough. I am sorry for whatever trouble my son has brought upon you. Please, allow me to repay you for the kindness.”

Arthur shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the offer. His gaze dropped briefly before he met Rains Fall’s eyes. “No payment necessary, Chief Rains Fall,” he said, rough from the weight of the day’s events. He let out a short, breathless chuckle. “That boy of yours… he’s got the fire of a feral horse, all wound up ���nd ready to buck. I just hope he learns to control that temper ‘fore it drags him into somethin’ worse.”

Rains Fall’s eyes darkened, a deep sadness flickering behind them. His chest swelled with the love he felt for his son, but it was also burdened by a father’s fear. “He is my pride and joy, Mr. Morgan.” His voice cracked slightly, the words holding a weight that spoke of both love and helplessness. “But I’m afraid even I cannot save him from himself.”

He paused, his hands clasping together in thought, before reaching for a pouch of coins, holding them out to Arthur. “I have some money,” he said steadily. “Please, take it for saving my boy. It’s the least I can offer.”

Arthur shook his head firmly, his face set in an expression of reluctance. “Keep your money…” His voice softened, looking back down at Kate, who had her eyes closed, leaning into him. “But I could use your help with somethin’ else.”

Rains Fall’s sharp eyes softened as he followed Arthur’s gaze, understanding settling in. His posture straightened, the weariness lifting for a moment as he focused on the matter at hand. “I can see that.” His eyes lingered on Kate, taking in her fragile state. “Your woman… she carries the marks of a long struggle, as if a spirit has been slowly draining her strength.”

Arthur nodded, as the Chief pressed his palm to feel the warmth of her forehead. His eyes clouded with concern. “Eagle Flies mentioned you had some kind of medicine woman?”

“Yes,” Rains Fall answered, his tone shifting to one of reverence, as though speaking of something sacred. “White Dove is a great healer. Her knowledge is vast, her hands gentle.”

Arthur took a deep breath, his hand brushing over his jaw, the strain of worry heavy in his voice. “Kate…she’s,” her name slipped from his lips, full of urgency. 

She is more to you than that. 

He hesitated for a moment, as if the name did not carry enough meaning, more than he'd intended. His voice became firm as he continued. “My wife… she’s taken ill. Ain’t been sleepin’ right, nor eatin’ much. What little she can keep down just comes back up.” 

The title graced his tongue as naturally as the breath in his lungs. The simple word filled him with so much love, an aching need to shield her from pain. An instinct as old as time, deep and undeniable. It wasn’t just a label—it was a truth he hadn’t quite grasped until now. The weight of it settled in his chest, heavy yet right.

As soon as the words left his mouth, a new wave of responsibility crashed over him, and for a fleeting moment, the world around him seemed to shift. His heart clenched, thoughts of everything he and Kate had endured together flooding his mind, all of it weaving into something more than just a bond forged in shared hardship. 

A desperate feeling that he couldn’t quite name, something urgent, primal. Paternal. 

He looked at her, her fragile form slumped against him, and a new surge of protectiveness swelled within him, instinctive and fierce. 

She’s yours to protect, she’s tied to you now. 

Though the words felt strange, even foreign. Arthur welcomed this instinct as it coursed through him, unsure of why it hit him so suddenly, but feeling that it was a part of him now, and he couldn’t shake it. 

Nothing will take that away from you.

Kate’s voice echoed in his mind, a question that still lingered—Do you want it to change, Arthur?

That longing for change—he realized it was more than just a desire. It had become something real, something solid in his heart. Something fragile and innocent cradled in his calloused hands. The quiet yearning to build something lasting with Kate was no longer just a dream. It was a promise, a reality. And in this moment, it was as if the universe had whispered a secret to him without words, pulling him toward her in a way he couldn’t explain but would never question.

Rains Fall’s expression darkened with concern, his hand instinctively reaching for Kate, as if preparing to move swiftly. “I will bring her to White Dove,” he said firmly. “She will help.”

Arthur nodded gratefully, his shoulders slumping with a mix of relief and exhaustion. He knew there was little more he could do, and the thought of White Dove’s healing touch was a small comfort in the face of Kate’s suffering.

Rains Fall’s eyes flickered to the horizon, and he let out a sigh, the weight of leadership pressing upon him once again. “You have fought long, Arthur Morgan. Rest now. We will see to your wife.”

Arthur didn’t answer right away, his mind racing with what had happened and what might come next. For a long moment, he just stood there, looking at her, struggling to find the words. Finally, he nodded, offering a quiet thanks, though the weight of his feelings was too much to put into words.

He pressed a soft kiss to Kate’s cheek, his hand lingering as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. In a low, steady voice, he whispered promises that she’d be alright, even if he wasn’t sure of the truth in them himself.

With one last look, he watched as Rains Fall gently led her away, toward one of the tepees. His heart tightened, but there was nothing more he could do now

His guilt will not purify him of his sins, as the dog that weeps after it kills is no better than the dog that doesn’t. But there is something in her—something—that will save him. 

In the way a seed buried in the earth can one day push through the dirt, seeking light, so too does a new purpose rise within him. It is the promise of a future unknown, full of potential. A chance to grow, to change, and to leave behind his past.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

By the authority vested in me, this sentence shall now be carried out. Arthur Morgan you have been found guilty and will be condemned to death by hanging. Do you have any last words? 

Arthur stood at the gallows, his hollow blue eyes locking with hers, a quiet intensity in his gaze. His lips moved in a whisper, the words carrying across the void between them.

‘Keep fighting, my wife. Keep fighting for the both of you’ 

Kate opened her eyes with a startled gasp, her chest heaving as the last shreds of the nightmare faded with her breath on the wind. The world around her slowly came into focus, her senses overwhelmed by unfamiliar details. She lay on her back, enveloped in warmth, the sensation so foreign after days of chills and exhaustion that it almost alarmed her.  

Above her, a patch of sky peeked through a hole in the ceiling of the tepee. The canvas, stretched taut over wooden poles, swayed gently in rhythm with the night’s breeze. Smoke from a central fire curled upward in soft, lazy pillows, escaping into the starlit sky. The stars themselves winked down at her, distant and serene, their light shimmering faintly through the drifting fog.  

The pop and crackle of a fire filled her ears, its sound strangely soothing. She turned her head, her cheek brushing against the soft fur of the animal hide beneath her. Her gaze settled on the flames, their golden light commands flickering shadows to dance on the walls. Tentatively, she reached a hand toward the warmth, only to pull back as the sensation of heat kissed her fingertips.  

Her body shivered, the fever still clinging to her like an unwelcome guest, but here, she felt safe. She exhaled, her breath shaking, the smoky scent of the fire mixing with something earthy and herbal—medicines, perhaps.  

As she shifted beneath the heavy layers of hides draped over her, a new awareness settled in. She was naked, her usual clothing gone, replaced by the comfort of the carefully tanned and supple hides. The rough, sweaty fabric of her work shirt and the denim of her jeans soaked in horse musk were nowhere to be found. Her skin, once sticky and chilled, now felt clean, though her limbs ached with fatigue.  

Sitting up slowly, she clutched a fur-lined robe to her chest, its texture soft but slightly coarse against her fingertips. Her gaze landed on the far side of the tepee, where two figures spoke in hushed tones.  

“H-hello?” Kate ventured, voice rasping from disuse. The sound startled even herself, carrying a tremor of vulnerability.  

Both figures turned toward her, their expressions registering surprise. Kate studied them through the wavering firelight. The older woman’s face was a map of deep lines and weathered wisdom, her dark eyes steady and knowing. Layers of beads hung around her neck, and leather wraps adorned her braids, which fell over her shoulders like rivers of silver and black.  

Beside her sat a younger woman, her features strikingly smooth and proud, framed by a fur-lined hood that rested gracefully over her shoulders. Her braids, neatly tucked away, hinted at a careful precision that contrasted with the older woman’s well-worn regality.  

Kate clutched the robe tighter, her heart pounding as the silence stretched between them. But in their eyes, she saw no malice—only curiosity and a quiet patience that urged her to breathe.

The elder woman murmured something to the younger, her tone steady and commanding yet kind. The younger woman nodded, stepping toward the entrance. She turned back briefly, offering Kate a warm smile. 

“Híhanne wašté,” she said softly, voice lilting with a musical cadence. Then she slipped into the darkness beyond the tepee’s threshold, leaving Kate alone with the elder.  

Kate blinked, her fevered mind struggling to process the events. Her gaze followed the elder woman’s deliberate movements as she worked, gathering bundles of dried herbs and binding them with twine. The firelight danced across the weathered planes of her face, illuminating every line and crease—a testament to years of wisdom and service.  

The elder woman held the bundle over the fire until the dry leaves crackled and ignited, thin trails of smoke curling upward. She approached Kate with a quiet reverence, waving the fragrant smoke in sweeping arcs over her body. Her lips moved in a prayer, the words flowing in a language Kate didn’t recognize, but their cadence was soothing, like a lullaby carried on the wind.  

“W-who are you? Where am I? Where’s my…where’s Arthur?” Kate’s voice wavered, panic rising as her fever-clouded mind spun with unanswered questions.  

The woman paused her ritual, her dark eyes flicked to the chain around her neck, carrying the gold rings. Before meeting Kate’s with a calm authority. She placed a warm, weathered hand on Kate’s bare shoulder, its touch grounding. “Hush, now. It is well. Your Arthur is with Chief Rains Fall. You are in Wapiti, among the people. You are safe.” Her words as gentle as the hand that guided Kate back down onto the buffalo hide bed.  

Kate hesitated but allowed herself to be eased back. Her muscles were weak, trembling under the weight of her illness. When the woman reached to pull the blankets from her figure, Kate clutched them tightly to her chest, her breath quickening. “Where are my clothes?”  

The elder woman made a soft clicking sound with her tongue, a hint of exasperation flashing in her otherwise serene expression. “Bad medicine,” she said firmly. “No clothes are best to let the fever out. Do not trouble yourself with modesty, child. It is my sacred duty to honor the body as I tend to it.”  

Kate swallowed, hesitantly loosening her grip on the blankets. Her chest rose and fell in labored breaths as the woman peeled the layers away, exposing her frail form. Kate’s gaze flicked down to herself, and a sigh escaped her lips. Her frame was thinner than she remembered, her skin pale and fragile under the fire’s glow.  

“You must be White Dove,” she whispered, breaking the silence.  

The medicine woman gave a slight nod, her expression softening as she ran the smoking sage in a deliberate trail down Kate’s abdomen. The warmth of the smoke hovered close to her skin, the scent earthy and cleansing.  

“I am,” White Dove replied, low and melodic, carrying the weight of her title and the assurance of her skill. “And you, Kate, are stronger than you believe. Your body knows what it must do. Lie still.”  

Kate obeyed, letting her gaze wander the interior of the medicine woman’s lodge. The space was humble, yet rich with years of careful practice. Wooden racks lined the edges of the room, their beams laden with bundles of dried plants and herbs, their colors faded but their purpose unmistakable. The faint, earthy aroma of sage, sweetgrass, and juniper mingled with the smoky air, creating a scent both grounding and otherworldly. 

In the center, the small fire crackled softly, its embers glowing beneath a tripod that held a weathered clay pot that Kate had not noticed before. The fire’s glow gently illuminated the hide walls, where faint etchings of symbols seemed to come alive in the fragile light.  

Animal hides draped over sturdy wooden beams served as insulation against the outside cold, their textures varying from soft rabbit fur to the coarse leather of bison. Scattered tools and supplies spoke of a life deeply intertwined with the land—bone knives for cutting, stone scrapers for tanning, and hollowed gourds for carrying water. 

A low bench made from a flat stone sat near the fire, its surface worn smooth from years of use as both a workspace and an altar for preparation. Kate could see the remnants of the sage White Dove had just prepared. 

Nearby, a simple yet meticulous arrangement of feathers, beads, and small carvings hinted at spiritual rituals, each item placed with care as though they held the stories of generations past. The tepee felt alive, not just with the heat of the fire but with the wisdom and traditions that pulsed within its walls.

So much of it reminded Kate of River—his people, his way of life. It all felt so distant, a world left behind in the shadow of time. Yet here it was, as vivid as if she’d never left it. She half expected River himself to step through the tent flaps, his familiar smile breaking through the haze, carrying the scent of fresh pine and the blood of a successful hunt. 

As if time were nothing more than a serpent devouring its tail. A cycle with no end, always bringing her back to where she began.  

White Dove’s voice broke the spell of memory as she ended her prayer, setting the smoldering sage bundle aside with deliberate care. “Your body tells me many stories,” she murmured, her thin, weathered finger tracing the faint scar on Kate’s side. The mark was old, yet it burned in Kate’s mind with the clarity of its origin—the arrow that had pierced her nearly a decade ago. 

The scar that set everything in her fragile world to motion.  

“You carry a great strength,” White Dove said softly, her eyes meeting Kate’s with quiet intensity. “It will serve you well for what’s to come.” 

With a groan, she rose to her feet, shuffling to her rack of herbs. She crushed some leaves with practiced precision, the aroma rising as she poured steaming water from the clay pot into a small clay cup. Turning, she offered it to Kate. “Drink this.”  

Kate sat up slowly, holding the animal hides over her breast so they would not pool at her waist. She took the cup, bringing it to her lips and inhaling its earthy, bitter scent. The first sip burned her tongue, and she quickly set it down on the packed earth to cool. 

“Thank you…for all this,” she murmured, glancing at White Dove with hesitant gratitude. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble. I just need to rest, really.”  

The older woman scoffed, a short, knowing laugh. “Rest?” She waved a dismissive hand. “You’ll need far more than that.”  

Kate frowned, her voice tinged with protest. “It’s just a bit of weak blood. I’ve…had a hard couple of weeks, that’s all.” She picked up the cup again, blowing on the steaming surface before sipping cautiously.  

“Weak blood,” White Dove echoed, mimicking Kate’s words with an exaggerated accent and a chuckle. “Is that what the tosi tivo are calling it?”  

Kate blinked, the unfamiliar phrase catching her off guard. “I’m sorry—what does that mean?”  

“It is Comanche,” her tone patient but amused, “for white people.”  

“Comanche?” Kate repeated, tilting her head. The revelation sent a flicker of surprise through her. “I… I didn’t know there were Comanche here. I thought Rains Fall’s people were Lakota.”  

The elder woman raised a brow as she swept the stone workbench clear and began grinding fresh herbs into a fragrant paste. “There are many different people here,” she explained. “But we are more than just tribes. We are a family, bound by something stronger than blood. Do you understand?”  

Kate nodded slowly, the words resonating with her deeply. River had been like that, drawing in lost souls from all over—those whose tribes had been scattered, those who had nowhere else to go.  

“I was saved by one of the Lakota,” Kate admitted quietly, her voice dipping with the weight of memory. “A long time ago. He taught me his language, the way of his people.”  

White Dove glanced at her, the lines around her eyes softening. “Then you understand,” she said simply, her voice carrying the wisdom of one who had seen many lives cross her path. 

Kate’s gaze dropped to the cup in her hands, the rich, earthy scent of the tea curling into her nostrils as she sipped. “I owe him everything,” she murmured, voice distant. “He found me when I didn’t even know who I was anymore. Gave me purpose when I thought I had none left. I wouldn’t be here today without him.”  

White Dove tilted her head, her sharp eyes studying Kate with quiet intensity. “River,” she said after a moment of contemplation, her tone soft and reverent, as though the name itself carried a sacred weight. 

Confusion and surprise washed over Kate’s features immediately, “h-how did you…” 

“The way you speak of him… I can feel his spirit lingers with you, like a light that never fades.”  

Kate swallowed a mouthful of tea, trying to free the lump in her throat that was making it difficult to speak. “Sometimes I feel that too,” she admitted. “It’s like… he still lends me strength when I need it most. But it’s been years. He’s gone.” Her voice faltered, a raw edge of grief cutting through her words.  

White Dove approached, the earth beneath her soft footfalls barely whispering. She knelt beside Kate, her hands gentle yet firm as they rested on Kate’s shoulders. “Gone in body, yes,” she said with a grounding force. “But not in spirit. River walks with you, child. He is in the wind that moves the grass, the fire that warms your skin. And here,” she added, placing a hand lightly over Kate’s heart, “he is always here.”  

“I miss him so much,” Kate’s eyes welled with tears she hadn’t realized she was holding back, the elder’s words wrapping around her like a balm. She nodded, barely managing a whisper. “I just wish I had the strength back then to save him.”  

White Dove’s gaze softened further, her expression both knowing and kind. “And yet he has left you with a gift,” she said, her hand moving from Kate’s heart to lightly press against her abdomen.  

Kate’s breath caught, her eyebrows furrowed. “A gift?”  

The elder woman’s smile deepened, her voice soft. “A piece of the Great Spirit’s plan, one that River will surely guide.”  

Kate’s hand flew instinctively to her stomach, the air catching in her throat. “I…” Her voice faltered, her mind grasping for logic amidst the swirling emotions. “I–I don’t understand. That’s not… no, that’s not possible.”  

"You’ve endured so much, child. He sees it, he knows. He has never truly left you. And though you’ve faced countless losses, you now carry something precious—a new life growing within you."  

A new life.  

The words echoed, reverberating like a bell in the quiet chamber of her thoughts. Her heart pounded as if trying to catch up with the revelation, and the clay cup she had been holding slipped from her fingers, landing softly on the earth below. A rush of emotions surged through her—hope, joy, disbelief, and an undercurrent of fear.  

Her mind raced to Arthur, his rough-edged voice filling her memory as she recalled their quiet talks about dreams of the future. Children. A family. She had crushed it then, before those dreams could take root in his heart. Claiming her body incapable of such things, her voice trembling with the conviction of a woman who had been resigned to a cruel fate.  

And now?  

Oh, God. She was going to have his baby.  

Kate’s chest tightened as the enormity of it settled in. She was going to be a mother again, and Arthur Morgan—a man caught between his own war with the world and his heart—was going to be a father again.  

“Do not fear it,” White Dove murmured, her hand warm and steady on Kate’s arm. “This child is a sign of strength. Just as you have endured, so will they. River’s spirit watches over you both, guiding you toward what is meant to be.”  

Kate met the elder’s eyes, finding a depth of calm that eased the storm within her. “H-how can you be so sure?” she whispered, her voice trembling with doubt. “It’s too early… there are no signs.”  

“No signs?” White Dove chuckled softly, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “The fever and sickness say otherwise. A mother’s body tells stories long before the mind catches on. And the man who brought you here, his ways are not those of a settled life. But perhaps this news will steady his wild heart.”  

Kate’s lips quivered, her exhaustion returning in waves as she slumped back against the hides beneath her. Her hand drifted to her stomach again, resting there as if to ground herself. Memories of a vivid dream, one that had lingered deep in her heart for weeks, re-surfaced. It’s meaning was suddenly clear.  

Two heartbeats, one body. 

“If only it were that simple,” she murmured, heavy with weariness and hope.  

Arthur had made his choices, ones that had led them both to the edge of ruin. She loved him with every fractured piece of her soul, but this—this changed everything. Would the promise of a new life be enough to pull him away from the shadows of his past? Would it finally give him the courage to leave it all behind?  

They had barely spoken of the events that had brought them to this point, with Arthur keeping much of their shared losses buried deep. He carried the weight of so many burdens, and though Kate longed to ease his load, the storm of worry and fragile hope in her own heart waged a relentless battle, pulling her in opposing directions.

But this game of tug-o-war on her soul will not stop her child, Arthur Morgan’s child, from growing in her belly.

Kate closed her eyes as warm tears spilled down her cheeks like gentle streams, cradling the fragile hope that had been placed in her hands. Despite the uncertainty that loomed like a shadow in her heart, she could not wait to share the news with Arthur.

“Sleep now, all is well.” White Dove whispered calmly. 

In sleep, he sang to her, his voice like a low and steady river, carrying her to places untouched by pain. In dreams, he came to her, his shadow softened by the golden light of a future yet to be written. That voice—gravelly and tender—called to her across the distance, whispering her name like a prayer meant only for her ears.  

And as she drifted deeper into slumber, the veil of the present began to lift, revealing a vision of what could be. 

A quiet life stretched before her, simple and unshaken. She saw their child, laughter ringing like wind-chimes in the summer breeze, their small hands reaching for the strength and love that only their father could provide.  

Arthur held them to his chest, his face softened with peace. With happiness. 

The edges of the dream blurred into a warm haze, but its heart remained vivid. A sanctuary where love thrived, untainted by the blood and dust of the paths they had walked. Here, in this fragile hope, she found their burdens were lifted and replaced by the weight of joy.  

And so, in dreams, she would find him, not as he was but as he could be—a man reborn by the light of their love, carrying their child toward a future shaped by something greater than fate.

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Arthur stood where the streams spilled into the river, where two currents became one. The waters laughed over the stones together, twisted through ravines together, and plunged down the cliffs of Donner Falls as one force. From this height, he could see Bacchus Bridge stretching across the horizon, its iron skeleton stark against the sky. And he could hear the mournful wail of a train whistle cutting through the valley below.  

Salmon darted through the clear waters, their pink and green bodies a fleeting blur against the clear expanse of blue. They swam downstream, migrating toward the ocean to grow and mature—a journey long and perilous. For a moment, as the clouds reflected on the tumbling surface, it seemed as though the fish swam through the sky itself, weightless and free.  

One fish caught his eye, a lone swimmer defying the current. Against the tide of its kind, it fought to return to the place it was born, battling the relentless push of water. Arthur watched as it struggled, its small body twisting with determination, before finally surrendering to the pull of the current. Drifting downstream with the others, pulled ever closer to the unknown. The inevitable.  

Like the salmon, it is the same when a man loves a woman. To love her is to fight the current, a struggle both thrilling and exhausting. But when it takes hold, there is no stopping it—no argument strong enough to resist it. Women, like the streams, could be gentle one moment, soothing a man’s spirit, and the next, they could drag him through white water, testing every ounce of his strength.

“Ready to head back, Mr. Morgan?” Rains Fall’s calm voice broke through Arthur’s thoughts. Turning, he saw the elder already mounted on his horse, waiting patiently to return to Wapiti.  

Since arriving at the reservation two days prior, Arthur had buried himself in tasks and chores, anything to repay the kindness shown to him and Kate—and anything to keep his mind from wandering to darker places. Hard work left little room for thoughts of the gang, of Dutch and Hosea, of Kate’s worsening illness. Or his own failings, the ones that had led them all here.  

Kate had been battling a relentless fever, resting under White Dove’s gentle care. The healer’s hands tended to her every need, offering what comfort she could. That’s why Arthur and Rains Fall were out here, gathering ginseng, yarrow, and sage for her collection of medicinal herbs. Every small effort felt like a desperate attempt to atone for what he did.  

Arthur mounted Belle with practiced ease and gave a nod. “Sure,” he said evenly, adjusting the reins. “Lead the way.”  

They rode in silence for a while, the sound of the rushing river beside them filling the spaces between hoofbeats. Arthur let his gaze linger on the landscape, but his thoughts were elsewhere, turning like restless leaves in the wind.  

“You’ve been awfully quiet these past few days, my friend,” Rains Fall said at last, voice deep and clear. It was less a question and more an observation.  

Arthur tightened his grip on the reins, grateful the elder couldn’t see his face. “Just got a lot on my mind,” he replied flatly, though he regretted the curtness of his tone. There was something in Rains Fall’s calm presence that reminded him of Hosea—the patience, the quiet wisdom.  

“Forgive me for prying,” Rains Fall continued, undeterred. “But you strike me as a man at war with himself.”  

Arthur sighed, knowing it was pointless to hide from someone as attuned to the human spirit as Rains Fall. “I’m not used to things bein’…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “Out of my control, I guess.”  

A soft chuckle reached his ears, rich with the weight of years and understanding. “From the moment you are born, you have no control. You can’t choose your parents any more than you can choose your death—unless you’re desperate enough to end it yourself. The only choices you have are to love someone, to be kind, and to make this brutally short stint on earth as worthwhile as you can.”  

Arthur’s gaze dropped to Belle’s mane, his voice forlorn. “I reckon it’s far too late for all that.”  

Rains Fall’s words struck a chord deep in Arthur’s heart. His whole life felt like a series of choices made for him, never by him. Lyle had stolen his freedoms before he was old enough to even talk, and Dutch had stripped away any illusion of control—not just in the physical sense, but emotionally too. Arthur had never truly recognized himself, never understood who he was beyond Dutch’s right hand, his sword, and his shield.  

Who was he behind the savagery? Behind the bloodshed? Behind the beast of a man he’d become?  

Arthur couldn’t fathom what it meant to be a person—he’d never been one. His purpose had always been pain, fear, and weaponry. He wasn’t a man; he was a tool, a pet trained to serve.  

And yet, he desired violently. He desired an end to it all, a chance to be better, to become the man Kate saw in him. That vision of himself seemed impossibly distant, but it clawed at him nonetheless, leaving scars on his soul. He wasn’t supposed to need like this, wasn’t supposed to crave someone so deeply it hurt. But he did, and it made him sick.  

Because wanting something made you weak. It meant you were at the mercy of something else. And Arthur knew all too well how the world had a cruel habit of leaving him empty-handed.  

“You’re caught between the man you’re supposed to be and the man you truly are,” Rains Fall said, calm and understanding, as if he had plucked the words straight from Arthur’s thoughts. “Your wife does not strike me as the kind of woman to be unaware of that fact.”  

Arthur let out a small chuckle despite himself. How easily this man seemed to read him and Kate, like the pages of an open book. She’d been trying to guide him to a better path since the day they’d met, steadfast and rooted in her devotion.  

“She’s far too good for someone like me,” Arthur admitted, heavy with regret. “I worry ‘bout what’s gonna happen to her—to us,” he corrected himself, “after all this is said and done.” His thoughts wandered to the cold, chilling unknown that loomed ahead.  

As they approached the gravelly path leading back to Wapiti, the savory scent of roasting meat mingled with the fresh aroma of herbs, carried on the crisp evening air. The familiar smells grounded him for a moment, but the edge in his chest lingered.  

Rains Fall reined in his horse at the threshold, turning to Arthur with a quiet smile that held the wisdom of countless years. “Do not borrow grief from the future, Mr. Morgan. To become spring, one must accept the risk of winter. There will be hurt and hardships, but the wildflowers will always bloom after the thaw.”  

Arthur held Rains Fall’s gaze, the words settling in his mind like seeds in fertile soil. He nodded slowly, though the ache in his heart remained. Perhaps, there might still be wildflowers waiting for him after all.  

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Kate was roused from her sleep by the aching growl of her empty stomach, the pangs of hunger sharpened by the tantalizing aroma of meat roasting over an open fire. The scent was rich and smoky, stirring her senses more effectively than any alarm. 

She shifted under the warm weight of the animal hide blankets, bracing for the familiar pull of exhaustion to drag her fevered body back down. But to her surprise, she felt a marked difference—her fever had broken, and the rest had returned a measure of strength to her limbs.  

White Dove and her gentle assistant, Halona, had cared for her tirelessly. Day and night, they tended to her every need, reading her body’s cues with practiced intuition. Kate had grown fond of the two women, whose quiet kindness eased her discomfort in more ways than one. Their efforts had made the tepee a sanctuary of warmth and healing.  

The news of her pregnancy still lingered fresh in her mind, a secret she clutched close to her heart. She’d asked White Dove and Halona not to share it with Arthur, eager to savor the joy of telling him herself when the moment felt right. The women exchanged knowing smiles and readily agreed, leaving Kate to relish the anticipation of sharing her happiness when her body and spirit were ready.  

Carefully, she rose from the bed, the lingering weakness in her muscles reminding her to move slowly. Touching the rings against her breast, she rubbed them between her fingers tracing their tiny halos. She slipped on a long tunic that brushed her knees, the soft fabric comforting against her skin. Over it, she wrapped herself in an antelope robe, its heavy warmth almost swallowing her slender frame. Finally, she pulled on a pair of knee high moccasins, their soft leather cool against her feet.  

As she stepped outside, the evening air enveloped her. It was crisp and biting, carrying with it the clean, invigorating scent of pine and earth. The sky above was a masterpiece, streaked with hues of pink and blue that filtered through the tall pines, painting the world in serene beauty.  

Kate inhaled deeply, letting the chill air fill her lungs, refreshing her after the days spent confined inside. It cleared her mind and steadied her heart. Despite the gnawing hunger in her stomach, her thoughts weren’t on food.  

She needed to find Arthur. She missed him terribly, and her heart raced with anticipation. Her secret warmed her like the robe around her shoulders, and she longed for the moment she could share it with him—alone, just the two of them under the vast expanse of the painted sky. The moon and the stars as their only witness. 

Kate made her way toward the central fire, where the tribal members gathered to fill their plates and cut portions of meat from the animal roasting over the flames. The savory scent of the meal mixed with the crackling of the fire, creating an atmosphere of warmth and fellowship. Her eyes scanned the group until they landed on a familiar silhouette outlined by the glow of the flames.  

A smile tugged at her lips. There he was. Like herself, he was wrapped in animal skins, blending seamlessly with the people around him. A large sheep hide was draped over his broad shoulders like a cloak, the white fur soft and thick, resembling a ball of cotton drifting through the night air. He wore sturdy moccasins similar to hers, their thick soles a perfect defense against the biting chill of Ambarino.  

Her gaze caught on his old gambler's hat, now adorned with a new feather charm, its soft plumage swaying gently in the breeze. It was likely a gift from one of the people or something he had traded for during his endless efforts to repay their kindness. The sight of him like this—fitting in so effortlessly—warmed her heart. 

Arthur had a way of slipping into their world as though he’d always belonged, like a lonesome buck searching for his herd and finding a place among them.  

Beside him stood Eagle Flies, engaged in what appeared to be a lighthearted conversation with her cowboy. As Kate drew closer, the sound of the young man’s laughter reached her, a warm and genuine sound that made her smile grow wider.  

Eagle Flies noticed her first. His keen eyes lit with recognition, and a small smile played across his lips. With a subtle nod, he clasped Arthur’s arm in a gesture of brotherhood, one that spoke volumes about the bond they had formed in their time together. Then, without a word, he turned and departed.  

Kate placed a hand on his shoulder, and Arthur turned to her, his features lighting with surprise. Without hesitation, he set his plate of meat on the nearest surface and framed her face in his warm, calloused hands.  

"My sweet girl," he murmured, his familiar rough timbre washing over her, making her knees weak with adoration. "What’re you doin’ up? You feelin’ alright?"  

His questions came rapid-fire as he checked her face and body for any lingering signs of illness, his thumb brushing gently along her pallid cheek. Which was now turning a shade of pink under his gaze. The tenderness in his touch stood in stark contrast to the hardened exterior he usually wore.  

“I feel wonderful,” she assured him, carrying a smile she couldn’t suppress. “Better than I’ve felt in weeks.”  

She saw a flicker of guilt pass across his handsome face at her choice of words, a shadow of self-reproach he couldn’t quite hide. “Thank you, Arthur.”  

“For what, darlin’?” he asked, his hands moving to her waist, pulling her closer. His piercing blue eyes searched hers, as if trying to unravel the depth of her gratitude.  

Kate reached up to stroke his rugged cheek, her thumb gliding along the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the roughness of his beard, thick and overdue for a shave. “For bringing me here, for protecting me. For standing by me while I recovered.”  

Arthur smiled, that bashful, boyish smile she loved—the one he reserved for moments like these when her praise left him flustered. “I’d do it all again,” he admitted softly. “Though I hope I won’t have to.”  

Pulling her into his chest, he sighed, a sound heavy with relief and affection. “Hated seein’ you in pain like that,” he confessed. “Damn sight nearly broke me.”  

Kate pressed her face into his chest, mumbling against the warmth of his shirt, “I’m well, Arthur. More than well.” She inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar mix of smoke, pine, and musk that clung to him.  

Arthur reached for his abandoned plate and held it out to her. “Think you can try and eat some?”  

Kate nodded, accepting the small portion of meat and vegetables with gratitude. As she took her first bite, Arthur filled another plate for himself, sitting beside her by the fire. 

For the first time in days, the world felt steady again.

Together, they joined the others, settling onto overturned logs as the flames flickered and danced, casting dark shadows over the gathering. The warmth of the fire fought against the creeping chill of nightfall, and a comfortable silence lingered as plates emptied and bellies filled. The sun had dipped beneath the horizon, leaving the sky painted in deep blues and blacks. Stars began to wink into existence, their light glittering faintly above the treetops.  

As the reservation quieted, a soft melody began to rise from the gathered people. One voice turned into two, then three, until a full chorus swelled, singing in their native tongue. The song carried through the air like a living thing, winding between the fire’s glow and the cold night, weaving a tapestry of history and culture. 

It felt like the land itself was joining in, harmonizing with the crackle of the flames and the rustling trees. The occasional howl of a wolf, or cry from an elk joining the orchestra in its own language.  

Arthur leaned closer to Kate, his breath warm against her cool cheek as he murmured, “Think you can translate what they’re chanting?”  

Kate stifled a chuckle, shaking her head. “It’s not chanting, Arthur—they’re singing. And don’t ever let them hear you call it that.”  

A grin tugged at his lips. “Fair enough.”  

Kate paused, tilting her head to better catch the song. Closing her eyes, her brow furrowed as she picked through the lyrics, trying to parse the Lakota words amidst the many other languages blending together. 

“It’s a song about reclaiming identity,” she finally said softly. “About standing together as a community, returning to nature, and rejecting the way society’s trying to change them.”  

Arthur nodded thoughtfully, his gaze returning to the fire. He didn’t need to say anything more—his silence held a reverence for the moment, the music wrapping around him as snugly as the sheep-hide cloak draped over his shoulders.  

After a moment, Kate began to hum quietly, her voice low and melodic as it slipped seamlessly into their rhythm. She translated the lyrics into English as she sang, her voice soft enough for Arthur’s ears alone. He listened, mesmerized by the emotion in her words, the way they made the distant and unfamiliar feel close and deeply human.  

The song, in both languages, seemed to bind them to the world around them—a moment of peace and connection amid the chaos of their lives. For the first time in what felt like forever, Arthur let himself simply be still, soaking in the beauty of the night and the voice of the woman at his side.

I might be more like an animal, than you would have thought at first. Your only conviction was that I would have to choose.

I’ll be running with the animals soon. Always swore by the same remedy, to battle feelings with thought, but lately there’s a change in me. The words don’t really do.

Humans rip open so easily, like paper heads in the rain. I won’t be my own enemy. The skull no longer fools this body.

I’ll be running with the animals soon. Into everlasting now, I’ll unfold mysеlf. Slowly, parts of me.

I’m herе to be more like an animal.

I’m here to fight more like an animal.

I’m here to eat more like an animal.

I’m here to bite more like an animal.

I’m here to move more like an animal.

I’m here to hunt more like an animal.

I’m here to rest more like an animal.

I’m here to play more like an animal.

I’m herе to be more like an animal.

As the singing came to an end, the gathering began to disperse. Hunters, elders, mothers, warriors, and children alike offered their farewells, their voices softer now as they drifted back to the comfort of their lodges. The fire crackled quietly in the stillness, its embers glowing as if reluctant to fade. 

Kate and Arthur remained seated on the overturned log, her head resting gently against his broad shoulder. Their fingers intertwined, a silent promise exchanged in the cool night air.  

Arthur stared into the flames, his eyes distant and shadowed, lost in thoughts that weighed heavy on his soul. Kate watched him intently, her heart aching for the grief and guilt etched into his face. It was the same expression she had seen during their night in Annesburg, when uncertainty and frustration had driven him to the edge of what any man could bear.  

She remembered how she had held him that night, cradling his trembling frame as his soft tears soaked her chest in the silence. She had whispered soothing words until the storm within him subsided, giving way to the steady rhythm of his breathing. But even then, she knew it wasn’t enough. There was still so much he carried, a burden too great for one person alone.  

Her free hand glided over her belly, where the first stirrings of life had begun to take root. Over the next nine months, she would be swollen with his child—a little piece of them both, growing steadily within her. The thought of meeting this tiny person, of holding them and nurturing them, filled her with a sense of purpose she hadn’t known she needed.  

Kate was certain the news of the baby would ease some of Arthur’s pain, offering him a beacon of hope amid his struggles. She could already imagine the spark it would ignite in him, a reason to fight for something brighter. To become the man she knew he could be—the man their child deserved.  

“Ready to turn in, my love?” she asked softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze to pull him back to the present.  

Arthur turned to meet her gaze, his tired blue eyes searching hers for a moment before he nodded silently. “Which lodge is yours?” she asked, glancing across the rows of tepees glowing softly with firelight.  

His voice was low, tinged with exhaustion and a rare vulnerability. “Y’sure you wanna stay with me, darlin’? You can still sleep in White Dove’s tent if you’d rather. I won’t be upset.”  

Kate raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he’d suggested something completely absurd. “You kiddin’ me? Quit being silly, old man. I want to stay with you.”  

A small, tired grin spread across Arthur’s face as he stood from the log with a quiet sigh, extending his hand to her. Kate rose, slipping her arm around his waist, leaning into the warmth of his embrace.  

“Besides,” she added with a soft smile, “I always have the sweetest dreams when I sleep next to you.”  

Arthur’s grin widened just a touch, and he pressed a tender kiss to the top of her head before leading her toward his lodge. Together, they walked through the quiet encampment, the stars above a silent witness to their love and the promise of a brighter future. 

━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━

Arthur’s lodge sat quietly on the edge of the reservation, a modest sanctuary tucked away from the hum of the reservation. Originally used for storing extra furs, dried meat, and other supplies, it had been generously cleared out by the people to provide him with a warm, sheltered space. Though Arthur had offered to set up his own camp, they insisted he stay somewhere better protected from the cold Ambarino winds.  

Holding the flap open, Arthur gestured for Kate to duck inside. She stepped through, marveling at how surprisingly inviting the small space was.  

In the center, a humble fire glowed softly, its embers casting a flickering warmth that filled the room. Arthur knelt by the ashes, adding a handful of wood chips and buffalo dung. A skill taught to him by the tribe to revive the flames and keep them burning through the night. As the fire grew stronger, Kate let her eyes wander around the lodge.  

Against the canvas walls, crates and boxes were neatly arranged, serving both as storage and structural support. Arthur’s cot lay near the fire, piled high with animal hides that promised warmth on even the coldest nights. His saddlebag, folded and topped with rabbit pelts, served as a makeshift pillow. A few hides draped over smaller crates created a reclined space she imagined he used for writing in his journal late at night.  

Kate shrugged off her antelope robe and draped it over the crates, adding to the cozy arrangement. Kneeling on the fur-covered bedroll, she slipped off her moccasins and stretched out on her stomach near the fire. The heat from the flames quickly seeped into her skin, chasing away the chill of the night.  

Arthur watched her with a small smile, his gaze soft and full of affection. Tossing his sheep-hide cloak into a corner, he tugged off his moccasins and left them by the entrance. Slowly, he slid off his suspenders, setting them aside with care. His gambler’s hat followed, then his leather shirt, revealing the expanse of sandy hair and gentle lines that contoured his torso. Now dressed in only his trousers, he settled beside her, reclining against the fur-covered crates.  

Kate waited until he was comfortable before shuffling forward on her stomach, her head coming to rest in his lap. Her cheek pressed against his firm thigh, and she sighed, feeling more at peace than she had in weeks.  

For a long moment, they sat in silence, the crackle of the fire the only sound between them. Their eyes met, the unspoken desire swirling in their shared gaze enough to make her heart race. Arthur’s hand found its way to her head, his fingers slipping through her hair. He began to massage her scalp, untangling knots with a care that belied his rugged exterior.  

Kate melted under his touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment before she opened them again, unable to look away from his face. Her fingers moved to his chest, tracing the defined lines of muscle with feather-light strokes. She twirled the coarse hair between her fingertips, letting the texture ground her in the moment.  

Neither broke their gaze as their hands explored, gentle and reverent. His thumb brushed against her temple while her palm flattened against his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath her touch. Their connection in the firelit room felt electric yet soothing, a sanctuary of their own making, where words were unnecessary, and their love spoke through every touch. 

She suddenly sat up, leaning her weight on her wrist as it rested against the warmth of his thigh. Her lips found him with a desperation that felt like they had never stopped searching for him. Arthur responded in kind, his kiss deepening as his hands roamed over her back, feeling the heat of the flames and pulling her closer, if that was even possible. 

As he opened his mouth to let out a shuddering sigh, Kate seized the opportunity, her tongue darting against his, earning a ragged, breathy moan, from the depths of his chest. They explored each other’s mouths as if it was the first time, foreign yet familiar. As if they had been apart for years, and by some miracle, fate had reunited them. 

Arthur tugged at her arm, pulling her closer, gripping her thigh with the other hand, urging her to straddle his lap. She didn’t hesitate. His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a fire in their wake. But before the heat could consume her completely, she stopped him with a question that had been burning inside her for days.

“Arthur?” Her voice was soft, trying to steady the rush of emotions that clouded her thoughts, the bliss in her body making her words feel weightless. 

“Hmm?” came his low, breathy reply, muffled against the hollow of her neck.

Her hand gently cupped his face, guiding him to look at her. “Why did you call me that…?” She hesitated, but only briefly. “Back when we arrived at the reservation?” Her mind has replayed his words endlessly since then. My wife. 

Arthur furrowed his brow in confusion, before the memory clicked. “My wife?” 

Kate nodded, her gaze enduring. 

A small, sheepish smile tugged at the corners of his lips, flushed red from her kisses. “Oh... I didn’t think you’d remember that,” he stammered, tinged with a nervous tenderness. “I dunno, guess it just felt... right.” 

Her heart skipped a beat, the weight of his words sinking in. “Do you think of me as your wife, Arthur?” The question came out more serious than she had intended, but it had to be asked. 

He straightened, his gaze locking with hers, no hesitation this time. “I… Yes. Yes, I do see you as my wife.” His voice was steady now, firm. He meant every word of it.

Kate’s eyes widened, the reflection of the fire flickering in her eyes like molten gold. She didn’t speak for a long moment, the gravity of his words settling in her chest. “You really mean that?” Her voice was barely a whisper, but it carried with it a world of emotion, meant only for him. His heart.

Arthur’s hands found her neck, cupping it gently as he wiped away the tears she hadn’t even realized were there. “I do. You’re mine, Kate. Mine and mine alone. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my days, if you’ll have me.” His voice cracked slightly, the vulnerability of the words choking him. He looked away, his emotions threatening to spill out. “I know this isn’t the life I promised you, honey. But I’ll save up, buy you a pretty ring...” He took her hand and rubbed at the empty space where a ring would sit. “I’ll make you my wife, for real.” 

Kate smiled through the rush of emotions that swept over her, and her warmth filled his heart in ways nothing this world ever could. Oh, how he adored her. In that moment he wished he were the wind, so he could kiss every inch of her skin and weave through her hair. To carry her scent with him forever. Through this life, and the next. 

Her smile faltered for a brief moment, a shadow crossing her features. “And what about the gang? Everything you fought for, everything you helped them build?” 

Arthur’s eyes darkened for a moment, as the weight of his past settled back into his chest. The future he had imagined with her could not exist within the chaos of his reputation, the people he had once called family. A deep sigh escaped him, a cold gust slipping in through the cracks of his thoughts, licking at the flames of the inevitable. 

The fish fighting against the current, must let go of the past and turn towards the future. 

“I’ll still help ‘em while I can,” he began slowly, “but I’ve been thinkin’ a lot about the future… about you.” His gaze softened, locking onto hers like she was the anchor keeping him grounded. “You’re my future, Kate.” His words were sure, steady. “I gotta put you first. If these last two days taught me anything, it’s that I want you far away from all this.” He stressed the final words with a firmness that left no room for doubt. “And we’ll never look back.” 

Kate’s smile returned, but her eyes held a flicker of something more. Reaching around her neck, she slipped a silver chain over her head, two gold rings glinting in the firelight as she held them up. Their glow danced between their faces, the light kissing them with a quiet oath.

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat as he recognized the rings—worn and well-loved, relics from his father figure’s hands. His eyes softened, and he swallowed back a sob. “Hosea…” His voice cracked, the memories of his father’s wisdom and love choking him. 

“Hosea made me promise to give these to you when the moment felt right.” Kate explained, cupping his palm and letting their gentle weight cradle in his hand as she slipped the chain off. 

“Always one step ahead... He knew things were changin’, even before it all fell apart.” Arthur admired the rings, recalling memories of Hosea and Bessie’s devotion. 

Kate nodded, her smile tinged with sorrow. “He said you’d know what to do… take me far away, and never look back.” She echoed his words, like a vow that hung between them, delicate and sacred.

Arthur sniffed, trying to keep the emotions at bay. “Christ, I’m gonna miss him.”

Kate’s fingers carefully plucked one of the larger rings from his palm, then gently took his left hand in hers. “I am too, Arthur. But… sometimes things change for the better. My whole world changed when I met you.” She slid the ring onto his finger with quiet reverence. 

Arthur watched her with a tenderness that made his heart ache. He kissed her knuckles, his lips soft and full of longing. “Reckon you’ve changed me for the better... and yet…” He hesitated, a familiar doubt creeping in. “Yet I keep making a mess of myself.”

With a free hand, she cupped his cheek, guiding his gaze back to her. “Maybe we just need something worth fighting for.”

Arthur’s laugh was breathless, full of love. “My darling Kate, you’re the reason I fight.”

Her eyes locked onto his, fierce and full of determination. “Perhaps a reason… for both of us.” 

As he slid the ring over her finger, past the knuckle, it settled against her skin with a commitment that both felt deep in their souls. And then, softly, like a secret whispered just for them, Kate spoke the words that stole the breath from his lungs. 

“I’m pregnant, Arthur.” 

The words seemed to echo in the air, a divine truth. To speak them aloud felt like releasing a beautiful secret into the world. The weight of her confession hit him like a wave, and for a moment, all he could do was stare at her, his breath catching in his throat. His pulse thundered in his ears. 

“You’re…” The words failed him, as his heart leapt in his chest. Everything suddenly clicked—the protectiveness, the need to shield her. “Oh, my girl…” His voice trembled with emotion, and he pulled her into his arms, clutching her close. “How—how is that possible? I thought—”

Kate’s fingers found his lips, silencing him. “I don’t exactly know how, but I know it’s there. I’ve known for some time, but I just couldn’t let myself believe it was true.” Her forehead pressed against his, and new tears, joyful and free, fell down their cheeks. “I knew our love would bloom into something wonderful.” 

In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only them, and the life they would build together. Arthur cradled her neck gently, pulling her close as they embraced, his thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. A familiar chill of unease crept into his mind, but he banished it before it could take root. Nothing—not fear, not doubt—would steal this moment of joy from him.

And yet, beneath the elation, a quiet resolve began to form. The countdown had already started ticking in the back of his mind. Nine months—no, likely less. He couldn’t let her bring their child into the world while they were still trapped in the chaos of the gang’s life. The decision came as naturally as breathing: he would do whatever it took to make things right and ensure she had a safe place to welcome their baby into the world.

Despite the timing, despite his failures, despite everything, the news of this child—his child—growing within Kate filled him with a hope he hadn’t felt in years. A new purpose ignited within him, fierce and unshakable.

“Kate…” he murmured, his voice raw with wonder and disbelief. His thumb swept across her cheek, brushing away the tears that glistened like firelit jewels. “You’re carrying our child.” The words felt foreign, surreal, almost more of a question than a statement, as if he needed to hear it again to believe it was real.

Kate’s lips curled into a soft, radiant smile, the same smile that had captivated him from the start. “Yes, Arthur,” she whispered, her voice steady and full of love.

“You’re going to be a father again.”

AN: I had SO much fun writing this chapter, everything from Eagle Flies and Rains Fall to Kate's pregnancy reveal. Ugh I just love them so much and it was so nice to finally get the secret out there. There are a lot of emotions going on between them right now and I want to be able to explore that in more intimacy. This chapter would've been over 20k words if I included the sex scene I initially wrote...but like I said before it will be in its own chapter! This gives me more time to tinker with it, as well as add to it without worrying abt the WC.

Thank you all so much for the support, and for reading this work that has become something so dear to me. I love all of you, and endlessly appreciate all the love and comments and feedback! 💗💗💗

[solace-saphylos]

I get so irredeemably angry whenever I see modded bg3 footage of Wyll's dancing scene, especially if they've swapped the model for Astarion's. On the side of the white boy - He wouldn't move like that. He would find it embarrassing at best. On the side of the black man - How dare you strip his likeness from his courtship? HE moves like that, not just because he can by schooling, but because he wants to show those moves to you! He wants to dance all pretty and poised, the Prince crowned with a devil's horns, dancing to no music but the deep seated longing in his heart to connect with yours...

I danced with Wyll, and the whole scene felt like a roller coaster. He swept me off my chair and into his world. Mind you, I didn't even kiss him, I turned my face away. He took that rejection with such grace.

A grace I do not possess myself. STOP TAKING HIS SCENE FROM HIM, LET WYLL OWN THOSE DANCE MOVES ALONE LIKE THE DEVS INTENDED REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[arminsumi]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ i still like you

Gojo x gn!reader

Overview; rejecting Gojo in high school, but figuring out your feelings much later when he's become a teacher at Jujutsu High

Content; headcanons, angst with fluff/happy ending

Warnings; rejection talk, heartbroken Gojo 😭angsty romance

Note; call him SADTORU cuz he cryin' over u

REJECTING Gojo Satoru is difficult. The man refuses to believe that you're rejecting him.

"Huh?" is his initial response. Then he laughs. "You're a good joker. Really got me there."

He is convinced for the first few months that it's an ongoing joke. He still brings you flowers as usual. He still flirts with you in the locker rooms. He still kisses your cheek as he giggles and runs off back home, like how he's done since you two were kids.

But he slowly, very slowly, realizes that you don't reciprocate his feelings. That his passion doesn't pierce the veil you have draped over your heart.

For years he still acts as usual, but more toned down. There was a time he would smile at you, then tear up when you left. He made a playlist that ended up being the heartbreak playlist. He rejected anyone who asked him out, except for an odd few who he tried with. But that was just to try and forget you, and the impression you made on him.

Now he's become a teacher, watching over Yuji and the others. A lot of time has passed. His students were told many times about the one who rejected Gojo-sensei and when you were introduced to them, Yuji even said "Oh, the one who rejected Gojo-sensei in high school lol?" ("Yuji!!" 💢Nobara smacked him)

You sat with Gojo in his office that afternoon, drinking tea. He hadn't lifted his cup, clearly something was on his mind (er, and he also didn't like tea. But he knew that you did, so he made it for you.)

"Hey, remember when you rejected me? Well, I know this is gonna sound childish, but I held onto my feelings all these years. I still like you."

You can't believe your ears for a second. He's pushing into his thirties soon, and yet he still possesses the pure and boyish feelings from his high school years.

"It feels like as I got older with you, my crush matured. Kinda like it graduated from being a crush and became..."

He trailed off, the final word on the tip of his tongue. Those bright blue eyes teared up under his silken blindfold.

"Love." he chuckled.

"Satoru..."

"Sorry, I've just been in a reminiscing mood lately. Ignore me."

"Satoru, is it too late to tell you how much I regret rejecting you?"

He stutters. The high and mighty Gojo Satoru, who always had a cocky and self-absorbed edge, stutters.

Jokingly, he lifts his blindfold and looks at you with one eye. "You jokin' with me?" he laughs nervously.

"No, I'm serious." you tell him honestly. "I was on a different plane of existence back then. As the years went by I started wishing that I said I like you back."

His heart races. It races like it used to back in his high school days. When his crush on you first developed.

[lurkingshan]

Things That Have My Attention In 4 Minutes Episode 6

Original timeline FINALLY let’s gooooooooo

Going back to the start to see Great’s utter lack of remorse for killing that woman, his spoiled brat reaction to his dad handling his mess, and his decision to help his terrible friend get away with a murder was a great reminder that he is in fact a terrible person.

Congrats to… a bunch of us? for piecing together the original timeline correctly based on what we had. In the original sequence of events, Tyme was deep in his revenge plan, got dumped by his girlfriend for neglect, and then intentionally seduced Great so he could record their sex and use it for leverage against Great’s dad. Which didn’t really work. He’s not good at plans, y’all!

By the way, Tyme? Clearly not a virgin. I never liked that read anyway so I’m glad it’s dead. His awkwardness during his first time with Great in the redo timeline is more about his feelings being engaged, it seems.

Great being unphased about the video and just wanting more of that good dick makes perfect sense for his character. He doesn’t care about anything or even have real curiosity about what Tyme was after with that stunt.

And as we finish up the timeline we learn the source of Great’s regret. It’s not any actual self-motivated remorse or understanding of his moral failings, of course. Instead it’s Tyme calling him a coward to his face and rejecting him. His attempt to suddenly claim a moral high ground with his parents after his own string of murders was hilarious and I don’t think he gets the irony.

But someone does! Tonkla coming in clutch as the cause of Great’s cardiac episode was EXCELLENT. And it makes perfect sense because in this timeline, Great is one of Dome’s murderers along with Title. I think safe to assume we’ve been seeing everything else Tonkla was up to in this time in the cold opens, though the exact timing and sequencing of them is up in the air.

The only piece that’s still not tracking for me is Tyme’s side of the romance. The events of this episode explain why Great’s choices in the redo seem to center on getting Tyme to trust him, but they don’t explain Tyme’s reactions to him. This is hardly a love story for the ages. He and Great were emphatically not in love in this original timeline, so I don’t see why Tyme would trust him if he was also reliving this timeline. And if Tyme is not reliving things, that rushed romance arc in the redo timeline doesn’t really work. He has no reason to trust or fall for Great that easily. We also still haven’t seen how Tyme gets shot, so I am inclined to believe there is an additional timeline at play that fills in the remaining gaps and better motivates Tyme’s end of the romance.

Noting here that in the original timeline, the lady Great hit, Dome, and Nan all die, but his mom does not. So by saving that woman, Great inadvertently caused his mother’s death. Something to ponder as we head into the final eps and figure out whether these changes stick.

I’m still hoping that this story is going to take us to a nuanced and complex place and not lead to a pure happy romance ending for Great because honestly he does not deserve it.

It’s nice to finally have a week where we actually got a bunch of questions answered and didn’t generate too many new ones!

[chaoticbardlady99]

Hello again! I’m so glad my prompt inspired you! I really enjoyed the first part of “Admiring from Afar” and I look forward to seeing what happens next! 😊

Admiring from Afar Pt 2 (Astarion x GN! Reader)

Author note: Thank you so much anon! I am so glad you enjoyed it! I hope everyone likes this part as much as the last one- I wasn't expecting the last one to get so many notes! Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and shared Part 1- it truly means the world to me!!!

Tag-list: @hyperfixationwhore, @ophelias-flowerss, @support-local-bands, @kahelis

CW: Broken bones and reparing them, minor violence, angst (?)

Picture belongs to silverformymonsters on Tumblr.

*I have only proof read this once.

If you missed part one- find the link below:

Here's the link you little weirdo

Your screams of pain rattle through camp for what feels like hours. Halsin had told everyone that resetting your bones and putting them together again would not be a pleasant or easy process. Astarion is pacing outside his tent- fists clenching and unclenching as he watches Wyll talk to Karlach by the fire.

Shadowheart and Halsin had kicked Astarion out of your tent an hour ago when they began setting your compound fracture- you had woken up with your mouth open in a silent scream and tears pouring down your face. Astarion regrets threatening Halsin’s life- he wants to be in there with you. He knows he would still feel helpless, but at least he could try to comfort you. It would be more than what Wyll is doing anyway.

 Astarion’s head snaps towards the campfire when Wyll lets out a bellowing laugh at something Karlach has said. Astarion walks up to Wyll and Karlach mindlessly- only one goal in mind.

 Karlach notices him and gives him a sad smile, “Hey fangs-”

  Karlach’s sentence starts as fast as it stops.

 Astarion’s fist collides with Wyll’s face- making the other man fall flat on his back from the force of the punch. Astarion is feeling borderline feral and based on the fearful, angry look in Wyll’s good eye, Wyll knows he is about to snap too.

  Astarion goes to punch him again, but is abruptly pulled backwards by Karlach.

 “Wow there,” Karlach says with a nervous chuckle, “I know tensions are high right now- but I’m going to have to call a party foul on you, Fangs.” 

 “Let me continue spoiling the party then,” he says through clenched teeth.

  Wyll stands back up and holds the tip of his short sword to Astarion’s throat.

"Hells Wyll, is that really necessary," Karlach groans.

Wyll ignores her- his eyes peering menacingly back into Astarion's.

  “What in the hells did I even do to you, Spawn?” Wyll asks hotly, fire burning behind his eyes.

 “Me!?” Astarion scoffs,” It’s what you didn’t do for Tav! Do you make a point of letting every person you bed get nearly slaughtered, almighty Blade of Frontiers?”

 Wyll’s anger turns to confusion and then his face lights up with clarity.

 “Astarion,” Wyll says slowly, “I didn’t bed Tav. In fact, they rejected me because, and I quote, ‘I really like Astarion and I’m not looking elsewhere.’” 

   Astarion feels all the strength and anger leave his body after Wyll’s statement. Karlach lets him go and he wordlessy walks back to his tent. 

  He sits down amongst the pile of pillows and pulls out your broken glasses from his pocket. He thumbs the crooked metal as he starts to connect the dots. 

  He had only seen the kiss, but he hadn’t stayed for the aftermath of the kiss. If he had just waited five more seconds, maybe, you wouldn’t be in so much pain right now. His jealousy and insecurities had won out over everything the two of you had together.

He isn’t just a body to you- someone to appease your sexual appetite while you romance every person in camp.

You weren’t upset because you had been caught.

 You had genuinely been on the verge of tears due to him unceremoniously dumping you. Astarion didn’t even give you a chance to speak-to defend yourself. Instead, he specifically stole the words right out of your mouth which was something he makes a point of not doing. He packed up all of your belongings faster than he’s ever done anything before. He told you to leave. Leave- in the coldest voice he could have used. He rendered you heartbroken and speechless all in one conversation. Right after you had so sweetly called him “Star” and just rejected a man who was a far more appropriate option for you than him.

  Astarion had assumed you were as tired as you were because you had stayed up all night with Wyll. He buries his face in his hands as more realizations come to the forefront of his mind. 

  You were tired because you had spent the whole night terrified, alone, and in the cold. Heartbroken and Homesick in that horrible tent of yours that you never ended up replacing because you didn’t have to. Would never need to again. 

  He was your protector, your piece of happiness in this scary place, and he turned on you. 

  Astarion begins to feel ill and tears prick his eyes as another tearful scream rips through the air. He had inadvertently left you out for the slaughter and your misery right now is his fault alone. 

  A knock on the wood of his tent jolts him from his thoughts. He gets up and is shocked to see Karlach standing at the entrance of his tent. Astarion tries to hide the nervousness he’s feeling- he really is hoping that punch didn’t earn him a stake.

 “Don’t look so nervous Fangs,” she offers him an easy smile,” I just came to check on you. I know you guys are close and that was a hell of a shiner you left on Wyll.”

  Astarion looks away from Karlach’s friendly face and tries to blink away the tears threatening to spill down his face.

 “I appreciate you checking in one me, but I can assure you that-”

 “You’re fine? That you’re not suffering? Cause I sure am! Tav is like family to me and I regret not rushing over to help them” Karlach pauses and when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “It’s okay if you aren’t okay. It’s not some secret that you are in love with Tav or they you. We all can see how much you love each other.”

   “In love?” Astarion whispers

 Lae’zel pipes up from next door, “It’s disgustingly clear to everyone but you. You even bed them like you are in love with them. You humans have strange mating rituals. Added note- please keep it down. Some of us sleep.”

  Astarion stares at Lae’zel blankly- not sure what he’s supposed to take from that statement as Lae’zel turns to go to bed. Karlach coughs uncomfortably and chuckles.

   “After the tiefling party,” she smiles ruefully, "they showed me that necklace they made for you and I knew they were smitten.”

  Astarion stares at Karlach in confusion and Karlach’s eyes go wide with realization.

  “What Necklace?”

 “Necklace? Hm weird Astarion, why are you so hyperficated on necklaces SHEEESHH. If you want a necklace so bad, just go buy one. Better yet I’ll buy one for you. No, SIX!” 

   Astarion goes to protest when Karlach interrupts him again.

 “Anyway, I know you have their glasses and I was thinking about taking them to Dammon and seeing if he can fix them. I’ll get that necklace you are so worried about while I’m there too.”

  He rolls his eyes at the tiefling- it’s obvious that she is not willing to elaborate about the necklace and he’s sure this is news that he’d much rather hear from you anyway. Also, Astarion is well aware of Karlach’s massive, horny (She asked him for advice once, never again) crush on the blacksmith and he knows that she will take every opportunity she can to see him. The fact that she also gets to help you at the same time is probably a bonus for her. Astarion hands Karlach the glasses after making her promise to keep them safe. 

   Astarion sighs before making the trek over to your tent- each step feeling heavier than the other.  Shadowheart steps out of your tent right as he’s about to knock on the wooden beams that hold up your mediocre hovel. 

  “They are asking for you,” she says tiredly.

  “Shadowheart,” he pauses, “ I owe you one for helping them and being patient with… me when I yelled at you and Halsin before.”

  “Huh, that sounded dangerously close to a ‘Thank you’ and an ‘I’m sorry’, Astarion,” Shadowheart teases as she walks by him, “love has made you soft.”

  There’s that word again. Maybe that is what he’s been feeling towards you this whole time, but he can’t be for sure. He would have to explore these feelings later when he is less stressed, tired, and desperate to be near you. 

  He crawls into your dimly lit tent and you are meekly sitting upright, looking at him expectantly. He immediately sits down in front of you and gently cups your face in his hands. He leaves a sweet kiss on your forehead, then he kisses your lips.

Astarion takes his time kissing you, pulling you into his lap so that he can support your weak, healing body. Warm tears are streaming down your checks by the time he pulls away. You let out a hiccup as you go to speak- effectively surprising both of you. Astarion chuckles as he traces circles with his fingers on your back.

  “Yo-uu like me aga-in?” you hiccup between tears.

   Well that broke him.

  “Darling, I never stopped,” he states matter-of-factly while he wipes away your tears.

 “Then why?” 

  Astarion takes a deep breath before starting.

  “I saw Wyll kiss you, but I didn’t stay to get the whole picture,” his voice coming out sheepishly, “I didn’t think I was capable of experiencing so many uncomfortable feelings at one time; Well, until that happened.”

  Astarion feels his own tears begin to go down his cheeks, “I didn’t want you to hurt me so I hurt you first. I am so sorry, my Love. I understand if you wish for me to go.” 

    Your hands make their way into his hair, gently detangling it and then you move to his tear stained face and kiss the tears away. Lovingly, you use your hands to bring his eyes to yours and Astarion leans into your touch. 

  “It’s okay my Star, I understand. However, I will never forgive you if you leave me.," you pause," Again.”

      He barks out a laugh, “then I guess I can never leave your side?”

   “Silvanus, no,” you wrinkle your nose in the most endearing way, “I have no desire to have the ever loving crap kicked out of me again.”

 “And I share that sentiment- I would prefer you never have the ‘ever loving crap kicked out’ of you again.”

  You slap his arm softly at his mpression of you and you erupt in giggles. Astarion can’t help but smile up at you. The warmth in his chest is absolutely undeniable. You, the bewitchingly good-natured thing that you are, have taken up all the space in his cold, dead heart. You have stood by him through everything and now you have forgiven him as easily as you had walked away from him when he told you to. He doesn’t deserve someone as good as you. As incredible as you. 

  Astarion knows in his gut that he is going to have to talk to you about his initial intentions, then he will give you his feelings served up on a silver platter. If you reject him, he definitely deserves it. But by the Gods does he want you to return his feelings and be able to look past his previous motives.

  For now though, he’s going to pretend like none of that is around the corner. He'll pretend that he does deserve this- deserve you.

  Astarion is going to just let himself bask in your grandeur and shower you with all the affections his actions had stolen from you both over the last 24 hours. 

  You are smiling at him and then a flash of remembrance crosses your face- prompting you to pop up out of his lap and ungracefully crawl towards your pack. Astarion watches you with curiosity and amusement as you throw items out of the bag, cursing, and grumbling “whereeee areee youuuuu????” 

          ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

  You look back at him awkwardly, “The whole not having my glasses thing is a real bummer, but I promise you that this neuroticism has purpose.” 

 “Oh don’t worry about that Darling, if your neuroticism hasn’t scared me off yet, it certainly won’t now.”

 You roll your eyes at him and return to digging through your pack until you feel the pouch at the very bottom of the bag.  With an “Aha!” you twist around and crawl back to Astarion and sit in front of him(in criss-cross applesauce obviously). Astarion pouts as you push his arms away when he tries to pull you back on to his lap. 

  “I will sit on your lap all night and never leave if that is what you desire, but I insist that you must open this first.” 

 You hand him the black pouch with the necklace inside. You are practically bouncing in anticipation as he unfolds the silk handkerchief, revealing the necklace. 

  Astarion looks up at you with an unreadable expression (you literally can't fucking see) and then down at the necklace. You anxiously play with your hands.

  “It’s a- uh, well. You had been upset about Gale and the invisibility necklace so I made you one out of Oxen bone,” you ramble, “I know it’s not really your style, but I tried to make it a little bit shiny. It allows you to become invisible- I tested it out myself. Oh and I picked Cadaith for the design because the rune’s meaning reminds me of you- grace, power, and music of the stars….”

  You are blue in the face from your spiel and Astarion still hasn’t looked up from the necklace.

  Gods he must really hate it. 

   Astarion clears his throat and wipes his eyes. He grabs one of your hands, gently sliding his thumb over your knuckles before planting a soft kiss on each of them.

 “This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me,” he puts the necklace on and then continues, “thank you my love, it’s the most wonderful thing I own.”

   You beam and lean forward to leave a chaste kiss on his lips, due to not having your glasses, you miss abysmally and kiss his nose- both of you chuckling as he guides your lips to his. As you pull back, a gust of bone chilling wind comes in through one of the holes in your tarp. You shiver involuntarily and  Astarion glares at you, unamused, as you scratch the back of your head while adorning an awkward smile.

 “Speaking of things that I own,” Astarion’s now teasing grin giving away his irritated facade, “I would be honored if you would move back into my tent with me.” 

  You feel your grin stretch from ear to ear and you quickly roll up your bed roll. You follow Astarion out of your tent and take his hand when he offers it to you. You walk with him across the clearing- Karlach whoops, whistles, and cheers as you walk by the fire. You stifle your laughter as Astarion pulls you into his tent. He grabs your bedroll and throws it to the side.

Astarion lifts you up and puts you lying flat on his bed roll. Astarion kisses you deeply, coaxing a moan from your lips. He pulls back and looks at you- you huff in frustration. Astarion begins to kiss along your jawline and down your neck. You can see his eyes to some extent, but the rest of him is a no go.

 “You didn’t happen to recover my glasses did you?”

You feel Astarion freeze before slowly bringing his face back up to yours.

  “Don’t worry my dear, it’s already being taken care of," he says, then whispers, "by Dammon.”

  Your stomach drops all the way to your ass. Your ears grow hot with rage and Astarion begins to kiss your face relentlessly- trying to unfurl the fury settling into your features. You can tell he is trying to hold back his laughter at your painfully cute, but angry expression.

 “What do you mean the blacksmith is taking care of my glasses?”

[kidstemplatte]

random papa headcanons

i genuinely don’t know where this came from haha. they range from zodiac signs to hobbies to mental health so sorry for the inconsistency lol. please enjoy <3

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

primo

- primo is one of the most kind and caring people to exist in the world. he’s very intelligent as well- he has a mind suited for many jobs. sometimes he wonders what he would’ve done if he didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps.

- he’s a great writer in all regards- poetry, essays, speeches, all of it. he did exceptionally in school and was very humble.

-primo is great at conflict resolution. he’s direct and efficient but considerate of people’s feelings as well.

-generally pretty healthy mentally but has struggled with depression periodically throughout his life.

-i don’t think primo ever planned to be a father, he didn’t even think it was possible considering his responsibilities. but as he got older and reflected upon his life he regrets that he never had children.

- we all know about primo’s legendary garden, but his next project he’s dreaming of is an orphanage in the clergy. or just to overall encourage more inclusion of children :,) (when appropriate ofc haha)

- a hopeless romantic deep down.

-virgo/libra.

secondo

-secondo is a great artist. he likes painting landscapes and scenery. hes also really good at drawing buildings/ architecture. when he was younger he thought maybe he’d be an architect. some of his paintings are hanging around the clergy but nobody knows they’re his.

- good at math but doesn’t enjoy it persay.

- reads a lot of classic novels (and romance books lol) if he’s reading something trashy in public he’ll switch the cover so he isn’t judged and can maintain his reputation ☠️

-i think he’s struggled with depression throughout his life that’s beyond situational. even when he was at his peak, something chemically in his brain just wouldn’t let him fully soak it in.

-extroverted but very distant simultaneously. has a hard time getting vulnerable with people.

-smokes a lot of weed. i think all the papas do tbh

-huge music connoisseur (prestigious metalhead) (will say “name 5 songs” if he sees you wearing a band shirt)

-biiiiiiig leo/capricorn energy.

terzo

- terzo has adhd for sure lmao. he was never diagnosed though.

- he was the walking stereotype for ADHD as a kid: a rambunctious and high-energy boy who struggled in class.

-terzo is very intelligent, though. he just never cared about school too much. he was good at talking his way out of trouble.

-terzo is incredible sensitive to rejection. so much so that he would have a very very hard time confessing his romantic feelings towards someone. (feelings that move beyond sexual attraction)

- his hypersexuality, though he genuinely just loves sex, is often a subconscious quest for dopamine and validation.

- he has a very kind heart, goes out of his way to make people laugh if he sees they’re struggling.

- loooooooooooves to watch reality tv or anything full of drama.

-either a scorpio or a gemini.

-very active online. he’s a little obsessed with reading fan forums and posts. but he also just loves the internet in general

-i think he was the most interactive with fans, he would respond to fan mail most frequently. when he got horny mail from someone he would often respond with equally something equally risqué ☠️but of course when the subject matter was serious or heartfelt he would respond genuinely.

copia

- copia drew comics when he was younger and still does. over time they’ve evolved from mystical stories to simple doodles to get him through the day.

- sometimes he’s a little forgetful and mixes up his papers, so when he confidently hands his mother a comic strip she’s featured in, it’s a little awkward.

- copia loves animals, and he always has. he was afraid of dogs (specifically bigger ones) when he was younger, though. he also likes birds and can identify most species. (so can primo!)

- copia had a little bit of ocd throughout his childhood that’s lessened up over time.

-he also has generalized anxiety that’s lessened after he’s become papa which is shocking

- he has inattentive adhd. he’s an exceptional worker despite his negative symptoms because he pushes himself so hard to succeed. but sometimes he gets a little burnt out and forgets to rest, or spirals into an unmotivated state.

-we all know he’s a huge dork, so to elaborate upon that: he likes star wars, star trek, dc, and comics of all sorts.

-he has a funko pop collection in his office (including one of himself LOL)

-i think he’s a gemini and i’m so passionate about this. that or a pisces.

⋅───⊱༺ 𐕣 ༻⊰───⋅

thanks for reading yall :,)) i have more stuff coming up i promise i’m just not able to work as frequently due to school!! i hope you enjoyed.

<3, alice

[qiu-yan]

I think if MDZS was truly about moral good, then Cultivation Society would have been fundamentally changed and everyone who tried to change it wouldn’t be dead. The fact that XXC and SL wanted to change cultivation sects from being dynastic to more merit based and they got such horrible fates is tragic. JGY wanted to use his power to help the more common folk, but he was struck down and any good he’s done is going to be tainted. WWX and LWJ choose to walk away rather than do anything in the novel, so I’m not sure if their actions can be considered a net positive. There’s only so much good they can do as wandering cultivators, there needs to be some kind of structure to help the community but most sects are unwilling to put in a lot of effort if it doesn’t benefit them specifically. There was no social change in MDZS.

thank you for the message! and sorry it took me five million years to get to it...

from a utilitarian point of view, i think you're completely correct: the one individual the novel holds up as the most righteous out of everyone has a far greater negative than positive impact on the world at large; society and the plight of the common folk are in a worse state at the end of the novel than they are at the beginning. postcanon, no matter how much individual nighthunting wei wuxian and lan wangji do, the life of your average commoner is probably going to get more dangerous. you are correct that there was in fact no social change in MDZS. shit did not change on a major scale.

two comments about this: first, the moral framework employed by MDZS is decidedly non-utilitarian. second, as you said, MDZS is not About Moral Good.

first, the moral framework employed by MDZS is not utilitarian at all. wei wuxian and lan wangji are not "righteous" in the way that someone who pulls the lever in the trolley problem can be called "righteous" via utilitarian reasoning; rather, wei wuxian and lan wangji are "righteous" in the way that someone who walks away from omelas is righteous. from a utilitarian perspective, walking away from omelas doesn't accomplish shit because the child is still suffering and one person's absence is not going to change that. from a non-utilitarian perspective, though, walking away from omelas isn't about bringing about a certain result but rather is about living in accordance to your own ideals and code of honor. it's not about helping as many people as possible or about bringing about the best possible outcome, but rather about living your own life without any regrets.

this isn't a philosophy i (a utilitarian) really buy into, but many people do find it persuasive. and though there are still some logical holes induced by protagonist-centered-morality, i do think that MDZS is overall thematically cohesive if analyzed through this non-utilitarian lens. unfortunately, one side-effect of this lens (as well as the general non-utilitarian sorts of philosophies this lens is based in) is that the story ends up somewhat handwaving actual negative consequences.

second, MDZS is not Purely About Moral Good. it has an internally consistent moral framework and it has a lot to say about what it thinks is righteousness, but it isn't a "ringing endorsement of the Correct Course Of Action" book in the same way many other works of fiction are. MDZS is about a certain kind of righteousness, but it's also a cynical condemnation of society, a remark upon the role and unreliability of rumors and hearsay, a subversion of typical xianxia/wuxia genre tropes, an interpersonal tragedy of love and duty and sacrifice and hubris, and a thorough rejection of the just world fallacy. it's also a romance.

i say that MDZS is also a social critique and a rejection of the just world fallacy because, in my view, we aren't meant to read characters like jin guangyao as "unambiguously evil characters who got what they deserved." i do think we're meant to see the way in which society turns on jin guangyao, the way in which that parallels wei wuxian's unfair downfall, and the way in which the genuine good jin guangyao did for the world is now at risk, as a tragedy. as a rather depressing insight upon the morally bankrupt nature of society. MXTX wrote it that way on purpose. you're not meant to read jin guangyao's downfall and go "he got what he deserved;" rather, you're meant to look at the black-and-white, hypocritical, and classist way in which society turns upon jin guangyao as a criticism of that society - one that builds off of the social criticism baked into wei wuxian's character arc.

there is no structural change in MDZS because MDZS is a criticism of society, not a story about how society got better. MDZS posits that this polite society is classist and morally bankrupt, and then does not fix said society. MDZS says "this polite society was hypocritical and self-serving then, and it still is now." in that sense, then, the ending is deliberately rather tragic.

in that sense, then, wei wuxian stepping away from the cultivation world does also feel like him giving up on society. which, from an interpersonal perspective, is fair: he already set himself on fire and literally died trying to do the right thing, so i don't think we can really begrudge him for not wanting to risk it a second time. maybe this time someone else can try to fix things (and die in the process). also, given his and lan wangji's absolute lack of any political ability, it's probably also for the best that they not try to involve themselves in politics to better the world, because realistically they'd probably just make a bunch of enemies and solve zero of the problems.

MDZS tries to give us some hope for the future of its fictional society: both the novel and the fandom (including me myself) posit that said hope for the future lies in the juniors, by whom wei wuxian's generation tried to better than their parents did for them. jin ling's generation certainly seems kinder than wei wuxian's generation. i think we're meant to conclude that things aren't completely hopeless because jin ling's generation, kinder and nobler than the previous one, will try to fix things.

but personally, i'm not sure how i feel about placing the hopes of social reform on the specific personalities of citizens and leaders, rather than the structures those people exist in. instead, i'm reminded me of what i wrote a few months ago about the granularity of morality in MDZS being the entire individual and not the action, by which i mean that MDZS seems to assess and conclude entire characters as "good people" or "bad people" or "complicated and morally grey people," rather than analyze the morality of specific actions. and i think it's because MDZS treats the unit measurements of morality as people rather than actions or policies, that MDZS is ultimately able to posit that the future will be better because a specific group of individuals from the next generation have kinder personalities - even though there was no structural reform. as if the state of a society is determined purely by the personalities of a select group of future leaders within it, rather than the laws and institutions that bind it and the material conditions its populations live in. to put it in other words, this is peak "we replaced the evil king with a Wise And Just king (and made no other changes), so we've saved the day!!!" thinking.

.

i feel like i rambled a lot in this response, so i apologize for its relative lack of cohesion. i hope i haven't misinterpreted your points and that i've continued the conversation in a relevant manner.

[maingh0st]

the main reason I like Taryn/the Ghost (despite the fact we get microscopic crumbs in the text) is that it’s thematically compelling for them as characters.

the best romances aren't just about ~vibes~ and ~spice~ but about two unique, fully realized characters becoming part of one another's lives. each character carries their lifetime's worth of formative experiences, beliefs about the world, goals, strengths, habits, wounds, coping mechanisms, preferences, etc—so inevitably there's conflict and change and (ideally) growth. this is why we love Jude/Cardan so much!

like, for just one example: Jude always resented the Folk, even as she admired and envied them. she talks about wanting to be better, to be worse, to excel beyond them and rule over them, and ultimately to conquer her fear of them. part of why Jurdan is so great (aside from being The Power Couple) is because falling in love with Cardan forces Jude to accept that sometimes, the Folk can be good and safe and worthy of her trust. in my interpretation, this arc culminates when Cardan is turned into a snake and Jude has to rely on others (Fand, Grima Mog, the Court of Shadows, etc.) rather than just her romantic partner. she does conquer her fear of the Folk—partially through her cunning and tenacity, yes, but also partially through learning to trust her heart and find those with whom she is safe.

but that's not a lesson Taryn needs to learn. she wants to fit in with the fae; she craves their approval. in tcp, Locke's whole shitty test is based on Taryn's ability to prove that, even though she's human, she can live like the fae. and in twk, while Jude is isolated, exhausted, and (rightfully) paranoid about being betrayed, Taryn is constantly surrounded by the Folk. she seems to find belonging among them, yet she almost loses herself in the process. from a story perspective, Locke isn't that interesting of a romantic partner because he only confirms what she seems to already believe: that to belong in faerie, she will have to change and abandon certain parts of herself (represented most starkly by her betraying her sister). she will have to learn to love differently and live by different rules. and she's quite good at it, as we see—but it makes her miserable. so Locke's murder is narratively important (beyond just being Very Fun) because it represents her rejection of the life he insisted she live.

but the Ghost (for as little as we know about him) is half-human and spent part of his life in the human world. I think there is so much potential for the most delicious narrative tension to arise from their dynamic. they both, for their own reasons, straddle both the human and the faerie worlds, yet fully belong to neither. both of them make choices they regret (killing Liriope / betraying Jude) and both of them are harmed as a result (the Ghost's true name being used / Locke being straight-up emotionally abusive). there's a lot of common ground there, but also potential for great conflict considering the very different lives they live.

after the events of tqon, I get the sense that they're both kind of... recalibrating. of course, the Ghost is still part of the Court of Shadows, but the monarchs he serves are very different than Dain, and he's also been freed from the abuse of his true name. and Taryn is a widow, pregnant, the daughter of an exiled general, the sister of the new mortal queen, and seemingly a bit of a phenomenon in the social scene of Elfhame. who are they, and what is their place in this world that isn't built for them? how do they find belonging without losing themselves? what does living a good and fulfilling life even look like for each of them? how do they adapt to their environment without crossing into the territory of self-betrayal? truly just so many questions that are so fun to chew on

[zephrunsimperium]

Zephy Shipping Headcanons

Fidds: gay, alloromantic Ford: gay, grayromantic Stan: bisexual, demiromantic Bill: listen, Bill Cipher either does not have a gender or is gender incarnate but no matter who he's with it's gay

Fiddleford has had it bad for Ford pretty much since they met. Ford has always been oblivious, no matter how many gifts or half-lidded loving stares have been given

Ford has thought long and hard about whether he was really in love with Bill. It's easier to believe he wasn't, but love or not he was infatuated and utterly devoted

Bill thinks Ford is a good person. He was hoping that if a Good Person could love him and join him in his quest to invade our dimension, he would feel justified in doing everything that he does. But Ford rejected him, reinforcing that Bill is the villain and always has been. What could he possibly do but double down? 

Bill regrets torturing Ford during Weirdmageddon. Maybe if he hadn't been as intoxicated as he was at the time he would have been more tact. Unfortunately no one will ever know

I used to think Fidds and Ford should get together after Weirdmageddon but I've rethought that after this post. Ford has put Fiddleford through so much and I just don't think either of them are healthy enough to be a thing. Fiddleford is such a sweet person and I worry he'd be too weighed down trying to help Ford with his shit to work through his own

FiddleStan slow burn: they're just as crazy as each other. Fiddleford is absorbed into the Pines family and Stan quickly realizes he likes the guy. As a friend, ya know. The kind you modify your car with or share a drink and tell stories about your life with or make out on the couch wi- ah fuck

Ford is moooore than happy to never dip his toes into romance ever again. He has his family and he doesn't need anything else. A secret part of him misses the god he fell in love with but the loss is harder to cope with than the hatred

[darkietrashcan]

Analysis on Izuocha and Bakudeku

An epilogue about moving forward

This post contains spoilers for the end of the manga and volume 42

Izuocha.

I haven’t thought about them in a long while… it was the first ship I sailed for when I started MHA, then I deviated to Bakudeku. But please, I am not a biased woman on neither behalf. I will express my analysis and opinions on the matter as a shipper for both who CAN analyze facts with objectivity:

Bakudeku was NEVER gonna be canon and many of us knew it: first of all, because Horikoshi is a middle aged man writing a Shonen. Sorry for being so stereotypical, but it is a fair assumption to make.

Second of all, the blushing, man. Izuku blushed every time he was near to her: he was attracted. Maybe not a full developed crush but there was something stirring him up. Uraraka was a person Izuku admired.

She was the person that gave him the nickname Deku. SHE changed the meaning Bakugo had gave him initially: from useless, to a man who does his best. Uraraka did a wonderful thing right there and it stuck to Deku until the end of the series.

She also was his first friend alongside Iida and Todoroki. Healthy relationships.

Uraraka developed a crush. She was mesmerized and when she realized that plus the fact Izuku was so set to meet his goals, that she set her crush aside to follow her own path: she built her way towards becoming a woman with own goals to pursue. She no longer depended on that crush.

Toga came.

Firstly, she didn’t understand her. She hurt Toga’s feelings and something stirred her up since then.

(During these times, Deku leaves U.A and Uraraka gives her beautiful speech: she connects the people with Deku, and, begs for him to get recognized. A beautiful action.)

Let’s get back to Toga now that I got that fact out of the way.

Her view about life changed, so did Izuku’s with Tomura. They were the only ones who could talk about it, since they experienced similar situations. Uraraka is set to her goal of reaching Toga.

Here is where, for me, things change between them. I viewed Izuocha as a thing before Toga, before Uraraka decided to move on. Then, I viewed them more as very close friends. But it seems like feelings aren’t forgotten and this connection regarding saving other people: Tomura and Toga, united them spiritually.

In fact Uraraka never stopped thinking about Toga.

And this leads me to think that this epilogue meant more than just an ending to their individual stories. Because if you read my other analysis, you understand that I believe that Bakugo never stopped chasing Deku.

While Deku after losing OFA moves forward, becoming a teacher… Bakugo never let go of OFA: competing with Deku literally turned him into a better person. So he sought for that dream, built Izuku a suit, asked him to join his agency but Izuku refused. Because Izuku had moved on. And so had to do Katsuki. And for bkdks it hurts like hell because it is a new step into their relationship: growing as separate adults, who are FRIENDS now, fucking finally. They had a happy ending. But it hurt bkdk’s because Katsuki never let go and I am sure, had their relationship been romantically coded, with them blushing and acknowledging crushes like on Izuochas behalf, I would have taken it as a romantic rejection, too.

But it wasn’t bakudeku’s path because Katsuki’s story always was about learning to ackowledge his mistakes and atone. His story was never a queerbait because romance wasn’t a main focus to explore for his character. All that were just headcanons.. The reason why the apology felt like a freaking romantic confession for bkdks: While, in fact, it was the climax for his character development. Apologizing was finally accepting what he did and growing beyond that. And all the extra stuff just proves how regretful he is because of the bullying he did.

(One thing I have always been greatful for was that Izuku never replied to Katsuki’s apology because it was never needed. The apology was meant to be done, and done. Katsuki never expected a reply either because he understoos just what I said.)

Let’s sum this up: in this epilogue, Katsuki had to learn to move forward, get over Izuku.

And in my opinion it was now Uraraka’s turn to move past Toga: her guilt was paralyzing her. The path that initially made her into a separate woman from Izuku, with own goals to pursue, is now a weight to carry. Plus it is not that she didn’t do anything about it: from the epilogue it seems she has sort of an agency going on and the program to help children!? She is twenty five and accomplished so, so much!

Here is what bugs me from the epilogue: I believe theur romantic relationship was rushed because it was a short timeskip! Had this been long, had their introspection gone a bit longer, I would have believed it and sailed for them.

Izuocha went from a crush, to a strong, deep friendship, whose romantic undertondes diminished as time went by. The flames were never blown away: I do believe they loved each other deeply since the first day. But, since they had different goals, (Toga and Tomura) a romance couldn’t blossom.

But now, Izuku became a teacher separate from OFA and knows what he wants to do. And Uraraka also did her thing: the path cleared for both of them to explore their relationship.

Because, Toga became a weight for Ochako to carry, and it is not that her character becomes a push for a heterosexual relationship. Toga was not diminished to that! Toga was the representation of Ochako’s growth, because all she did, she did for Toga. For her story to not repeat a cycle. When she pushes Ochako, she’s freeing her. So that she can grow besides Toga: she already did a lot to pay homage to her. So yes, Toga pushes a heterosexual relationship but her character WAS NOT REDUCED TO A TOOL! She is pushing her to a new path, and this path is coincidentically a romantic path.

And deepening his relationship with Deku was Horikoshi’s idea of moving forward, for them, at least. Why is it bad that they decide to get together?

As Bakudeku’s we dreamt of a future where Bakugo and Deku get together building an agency together or just competing. Our moving forward was them to become a couple or a team or whatever. We dreamt of them getting together.

Now when it gets to Izuocha it is bad because they can’t grow as separate adults? When it is their choice to get together? This is their choice of keep growing as adults, explore a romantic relationship!? Isn’t this the same like bakudekus desire but for their ship?

(My ship too, bcs I always bkdk>izch)

So yes. I believe Izuocha was rushed, and a bit forced. But it is mainly due to HOW SHORT THE EPILOGUE WAS! Had it been longer with more introspection… man I would have bought it.

But I also as a mha fan have to accept that stories need to conclude and Hori can’t keep drawing and epilogue forever.

I am sure a lot of pieces are not put in this puzzle because this analysis stems from rough translations from the leaks.

But this is what I think about Izuocha and Bakudeku. And boy, if you don’t ship bkdk good for you, but as a HUUGE fan, I am hurt like hell.

(read my other analysis to understand)

[herefortheships]

Lydia looks so smug when Betelgeuse is about to have Rory killed, like she's thinking "this is what my man is willing to do for me, bitch" 😆 And yet she's afraid of him? Nah, that's her excuse to push Beej away. Anyone familiar with romance arc structure? Looking at it specifically through the Romancing the Beat structure, I feel like, if applied to BJBJ, the story left Lydia in the "Retreating from love" beat. I'll have to review the beat sheet and rewatch the movie with romance arc structure in mind to make sure, but I think she made her fear-based choice to reject love in BJBJ by banishing Betelgeuse.

Not saying that BJ3 will start with her Dark Night of the Soul (though she did look sad or one could say regretful after banishing him. She's looking at the floor with a furrowed brow, like she's conflicted). BJ3 might retrace earlier beats more solidly, or go into the beats BJBJ might have skipped, because this is a romance arc in a horror-comedy, so it wouldn't follow a traditional romance structure, I guess (they might also write in a romance arc intentionally in BJ3, if they didn't already write in the romance arc intentionally in this one. Personally I think they so did. lol I get the vibe Burton and co wanted to plant the idea in this movie and end the series with the two of them together. They're testing the waters, basically).

//EDIT: ACTUALLY they might still be in either the Set up or the Falling in Love's "No way" beat, in which Lydia has pretty much stated why she's not falling in love (she didn't say it literally, of course, just her actions lol), and specifically NOT with Betelgeuse (this one she did verbalize, as I'll write bellow. Things she said about him: he's a stalker, a trickster demon, "bad things will happen" if he's here, etc). They might have been entering the Falling in Love part of the arc, and yet I think the story took her right to the Retreating from Love beat at the end, because she did banish him. But he's still around, so they might still be here at the Set up or Falling in love parts of the arc? 👀 Anyway, I'll break it down eventually and write a romance arc beat sheet for them.//

This is how Lydia's rationalizing her fear-based rejection of love: "He's literally evil and will use me and leave me". And "there's an age gap, it wouldn't have worked out between us anyway". She's protecting her heart from being hurt again. The fear of him leaving might come from her past relationships failing; one could even bring up how Richard left her to go on his Amazon adventure, when their relationship failed. Then Richard ended up dying in that trip and left her forever (because she can't even see his ghost). Then her mention of the age gap, that might have just been her looking for the easiest way out, to reject him without even trying to give him a chance after seeing that he might not be that bad after all.

Anyway, I'll rewatch the movie and create a romance arc beat sheet for these two. Just because I'm a nerd and it'll be fun. 😂 I'll see how many romance story beats were actually used and how many we have yet to go into with these two until endgame.

If there is a romance arc between them in BJBJ, then it's incomplete. Which means BJ3 will complete it, but I gotta push my hopes down. Let's not get our hopes up, but STILL I can't unsee what is there to see. lol

[cinnamon-galaxies]

What are your top 3 favorite ship dynamics? I was watching “Relationship dynamics from tumblr 2” by tonka joey (give it a watch! It has 7 or maybe more parts and is really fun) on youtube and i got curious.

have a good day!

My favorite relationship dynamics

You literally send me into a rabbit hole with that question. I've been researching relationship dynamics for the last few hours straight and I'm pretty sure I won't stop for the next hours or even days. It's just so much fun and now I really feel the urge to draw Alastor and Mara in as many fitting relationship dynamics as possible. I swear, the ideas are COOKING.

There are so many good dynamics what makes it even harder for me to answer your question because it feels impossible for me to reduce the list to just my top three... So, this response might get a little bit out of hands. But maybe it'll be a helpful inspiration for anyone who reads this!

So, one of my all time favorite tropes is "enemies to lovers". And there are so many possibilities to showcase this trope in different dynamics...

First off, there's the classic "enemies to lovers". Both hate each other or are on different sides but end up falling in love. Oh, the denial and slow burn is just chefs kiss. I just adore a well written push and pull between two characters who are supposedly enemies or rivals but secretly pine for each other.

But what about two characters who despise each other but accidentally end up in bed just to regret their actions the morning after? Ooooooh, the potential... The possibility of creating delicious second hand embarrassment and the possible banter between the character's following afterwards while they continue pretending as if nothing happened even though both of them get constantly haunted by the memory of sharing a night together... Just 😘👌🏻

Or imagine enemies who are ALSO lovers? Like hate-love relationship but take it LITERALLY.

Another category of ship dynamics I ADORE is "villainous couples". Both of them just want to watch the world burn; they're both murderers and horrible people but their relationship is all loving, caring and healthy and just all over wholesome. They're devoted to each other like Gomez and Morticia Addams and support each other's heinous plans. This is definitely a top tier dynamic, in my opinion.

Other villain ship dynamics I like are "evil genius x the supportive". Or "the tough ahh mastermind villain x their annoying simp". (I've thought about this dynamic so often and it sounds hilarious.)

Or what I'm also into (which is also a classic) is "villain x ex hero". Who cares about redeeming the villain when the hero can get corrupted...? Especially if the villain is in the right the whole time or if the villain just loves to create chaos but is still charismatic af. (Dude doesn't need to be changed. He's perfect the way he is 👌🏻)

"The person who doesn't believe in love but then falls in love with the hopeless romantic" will also have my heart forever! The denial, the mutual pining but not wanting to confess because they fear rejection or appearing weak (It's basically every good Alastor x OC/reader romance story I've read and I'm down bad for this trope.)

"Grumpy x Sunshine"? A classic. I like it. But what about "looks evil but is actually sweet x looks sweet but is actually a psychopath"?

Or "looks dangerous but is completely harmless x looks harmless but will actually kill you if you hurt their partner"?

"Big scary demon overlord x their little bean" is also so much fun to read and write. Or just imagine "big scary demon overlord x random dude":

Character A: "ł'₥ ₲ØⱤ₲Ø₮Ⱨ, ĐɆ₴₮ⱤØɎɆⱤ Ø₣ ₩ØⱤⱠĐ₴!!! And this is Steve."

Character B: *casually waves their hand*

Or just "the tough ahh stoic and intimidating character who has a huge soft spot for character B"... It's so cute in my opinion and I just love it when all grumpy melts around their partner... It makes them appear even more special to them...

I also like the idea of "tough and serious x silly and clumsy" (bonus points if they have ADHD).

I just really like polar opposites as a dynamic, especially if everyone else thinks they don't match but it actually works out perfectly for them! They're so much fun and can complement each other in ways that make stories so exciting...

Well, that was already a lot. But since I've already exaggerated this post I can also just round this off by adding a list of other ship dynamics I think are fun:

- autism x ADHD

- wide eyed and curious x the cool one that admires them

- character that get shipped with each other and both of them hate it/find it annoying

- chill tall one x angry short one

- traumatized x traumatized but smug

- two idiots with one brain cell (they share that single brain cell)

- scary eldritch horror x the one who thinks it's kinky (this just sounds so much fun... Imagine character A goes all scary and intimidating but B is just: "Damn, that's hot.")

And well, basically Gomez x Morticia. (I know I already mentioned it but that was in the "villain" context. They don't need to be evil. They're just a wholesome and happy couple that's completely devoted to each other until the end of time.)

[my-fancy-hat]

Most romance novels follows an scheme of what love should it goes, how people have to meet and follow a certain path and archetypes to correctly fall in or out of love, that what's makes this kind of stories predictable and boring to some people, but what about love that evolves? love that exists despite the desire for romance/selfishness? what about friendship? family? what if we choose to love ourselves too? to love the path we choose? I think that what Ao no Flag is majoritary about, romance as we know in a love triangle it's just the surface the tip of the iceberg of what this story is about, series of choices where we pray for them to make us happy, to make our loved ones happy, because we want to be brave about the things we love.

The four cour characters are put in one of the most troublesome and chaotic times of every person who had access to the system education can experience: final year of high-school, the deadline between childhood and adulthood, to accept reality on how it approaches us, the fear of rejection and failure of what we are of what we do. Many people incluided me had wished to have been more wise, more patient, more accepting yet strong about our chosen path, and that's what Ichinose, Touma and Futaba had to learn and eventually guided them toward their happy end. Not just that, but the experience many queer people had to endure avoiding the social suicide of showing to the world who we are, this ilustrated with Touma and Masumi's characters, and (subtly yet quite importantly) Ichinose. How can I exists in their world if I live like this? will my parents accept me? they will still think about me as someone successful and worth of their last name? will they disown me? hate me? will my best friend who I am in love with reject me in disgust? It's so easy and understandable to succumb to a hatred that you think you deserve, because at the time it was less painful to play along lying to your loved ones about this secret than "revealing the truth", they deserved to know yet you failed, and this loneliness is what you get. If this is how the enviorment wants you to feel, then isn't it expected that the individual would desire for freedom of it? that's what Touma wished for his future to be, not concrete answer more than to exists without regrets.

The desire for romance can be rightfully observed by its selfish nature, to own the right, the demand for them to love us back, but it can be the exercise to accept ourselves as well. Touma wanted to show Taichi his heart without fears, despite if he would love him back or not, in doing so, he would be walking toward the ideal happiness he dreamed of. To openly love is the call for the indifferent cruel world to see in us the desire for goodness, that in this place can exists kindness too.: Touma most than anything, wanted for Ichinose and (by extention) Futaba, to be happy, to share their 1000+ points of best friend power and make everyone happy. That is, the core of love, to wish the best for your dears, and see them smile.

But accepting and not to, can be actually be the same. Masumi had to constantly fight with herself, with the inavility to change what she can't, to live with the fabricated idea of what she is supposed to be and what she is supposed to do, and what other people would react about it. That's why that, even if I have my reservations about her ending, I find it really meta for Masumi end to end up in a het marriage, making us conclude that at some point she gave up on Futaba, but paradoxically, accepted herself and her reality by coming out as bi. Us readers expected and rotted for her to confess to her crush and end up in similar terms like Touma and Taichi did, but this ending make us putting the lesson she learned though her character arc into practice: what people may think or not about our decisions, is their problem, not ours. Life can be so treacky and unfair, but no matter the circunstances, we can still find and make our place. We deserve it.

A friend or a lover, what is the difference if you just want to share our happiness with them?

That's how you humanize your characters, by expossing through them the good, the bad and the absurd, to tell a story in each how the circunstances molds them, but to oppose what damage us is quite a brave thing to do, even if it's our own mind, and that's what Futaba character speaks to me. The desire for wanting to change, to (once again) accept and not-to-accept. She's a weakling, clumsy girl loaded on self-hatred for her unability to live just as the others do. The fear of have reached your maximum potential and there's nothing else for you to do about it, that you born to live like this for the rest of your life. But she sees in Touma an example of hard work and due to her admiration (mistaked at first for a crush), wants to prove herself that life can be something else. To break our self-stablished limits and see what's beyond, to surpass your limits and try to understand what scares you. To be confident enough to think you have the right to live too. Failure reafims the truth that you are better off muted; what bother trying if it will end up in misery anyways? but the beauty of humankind is the unbeatable hope that things will change, to not give up, and without noticing, we'll feel blessed for have born in this time, in this place.

This as a result inspires Taichi's way of viewing life without him realizing too, just as how Touma's pure-lover heart expeled his sincere feelings ever since they started talking again, to the point to even sacrifice his leg and career for Ichinose: How can I exists and make it up for such people like you? what can I do? It's easy to fill your heart with resentment for the things you couldn't live, to feel prideful as consolation for a lonely life you didn't choose, as the left overs. But what we think makes what we are, if you keep on your days thinking you exists for the things you believe you deserve, to live in the imaginary unbreakable rules you made for yourself, then nothing will change. Touma, Futaba and Masumi changed Taichi's life forever, in the driving force of his spirit to pursue a better version of himself, to live driven by the desire for freedom, for love, and not care of what other people may see this choices.

That's why I think the final chapter is such a piece of art that makes the pay off so satisfying. What tortured him when Touma confessed wasn't that his best friend was gay, or that he lied to him about the nature of their friendship (he didn't): it was the though of losing him, so he chose both options at the end (if the analogy can't be more in the face). But as Yorkie said, it part of the course of life to most likely break up with your first gf, more less if they go to different universities, so them going their separate ways wasn't a surprise, but what made me happy about it that they still ended up in good terms and respected each other deeply for what they lived together. The surprise though comes from the actual realize of which POV we're following at the end, that reveals that Taichi had become Touma's husband. This is where I think Ichinose teach to the audience the lesson he learned from his former classmates, where he reaches for Touma above the lines that divides panels, to reach his husband's hand, the hand he shouldn't hold, and walk together toward home: he surpassed his own limits, his barriers and knew where his happiness lied.

A lot of queer people had *the realization* in their 20s (me included as nb), finally giving an explanation of all our past behaviour. I know before-hand most people got shocked for Ichinose to get reveal as bisexual, but isn't the story already gave us an idea this would happen eventually? when Futaba and Ichinose confess to each other, it's Touma's (and Masumi's) heartbreak that it's on spotlight overlaying their conversation, how Taichi and Touma hand-holding is such a central element for the story telling (literally it ends with them holding hands), and much more? Even Futaba suspected it before himself realized years later.

(it happened twice that when Taichi thinks about Touma what crosses his mind is his well-build chest/cleavage area like, ok)

But what makes the different between friendship and love? can a boy and a girl be friends? can a gay boy have male friends? can I be friends of someone I love and viseversa? can I forgive and maitain what we have? The only certainty I have right now, in this moment, is that I love you so much. I'm so happy to have meet you.

This got too long so to grap my final thoughs and make myself more loose right at the end, I'm so happy for have read this story FULL BLIND OMG I was so conviced that no one would end up together lol the only thing I knew of it is that it talked about queer drama and, textually: "had the ending it deserves". It genuinely made my perspective on some things change for the better. I actually loved so much how this story handles with such maturity a pretty much easy-target for comedy and bitter angst (bury your gays) the premise of "bff is gay and in love with the main character since they were kids". Not only that, but not picking sides of "who deserves who" taking leads between Touma vs Futaba, is quite refreshing for the genre: it humanize and treats fairly each member of the cast, giving proper space for them to explain themselves (worth mentioning Mami I loved her character so much you have no idea). Most of the drama in romance comes from missunderstandings or the lack of dialogue, when everything can be solved if the characters can actually sit and talk their feelings and thoughts out! and Ao no Flag is a masterclass on this manner. The explanation, exposition and introspection of every character struggle, the script, monologues, are so compelling and to the bone, I can't choose which interaction of the cast is my favorite. The pay-off is spectacular because we can actually follow each person train of thoughts and choices in which these end up in, with the faith that this path will make themselves and his loved ones happy, because even if we aren't certain about anything we do, we'll still find meaning in the absudity of destiny (or the lack of it?).

[mrsbsmooth]

I don't know if this is a safe space for me to share my opinion on S8 but I disagree with your take on WLW relationships in S8. As someone who is exclusively WLW, I've got to say that Season 8 is the worst season that I have ever played. It's not worth it. I regret every second that I have spent on it. I wish I never played it. I feel like I have wasted my time. Watching Claudia grind on Theo made me feel physically sick. If you're bi, you're automatically locked out of the WLW route and Bea dances for Claudia instead. If you're doing a WLW route, the two female LIs are merged together. There are only two female LIs and they're hidden behind a gem wall. You can't couple up with them until the final week. The male characters are forced on MC no matter how many times you reject them. Being LGBT is treated like a fun side mission. It's something you're only allowed to do behind closed doors. You can pay to make out with a girl in every episode and the other characters will keep pushing the OG guy and CA guy on you either way. If you're romancing a girl, you're made to feel like a cheater. The WLW routes in S8 are written to be a bonus thing for bi women to do once they finish the good routes. They are not written to be the main course. The S8 WLW routes  are something to play around with but not something to commit to. S5 was no fun but at least we could be in an unofficial relationship with Dana and we could choose to befriend Alfie. We could couple up with Vicky in S7. S8 is like S6 but somehow even worse. The openly homophobic and racist comments that I have seen some straight players make about Bea and Hari are only making it harder to feel accepted. What hurts the most is that MC was a bombshell and she was not coupled up with her OG LI before the Casa. They could have let us pick a female LI the moment MC walked into the Villa. There was no better way to justify a WLW main route. The way they waste Luna and Felicity is unbelievable. I wouldn't recommend S8 to anyone who isn't super into the male LIs

Hi lovely, of course!! Always happy to hear a different opinion as long as they're respectfully put, which yours absolutely is, and as long as you don't mind me disagreeing back!

[Note: Sarah's just pointed out to me that you asked for a safe space and my response doesn't really do that and just disagrees with you. She's right, and I apologise for not being clearer about the fact I was planning to do so when I hit post. But you are always welcome to share your opinion here. I can't guarantee a safe space, but I can guarantee an open mind.] Because I do genuinely believe that the WLW routes in S8 are better than they have been previously.

I'm not going to be addressing homophobic and racist comments about Bea and Hari. My advice for those? Stay the hell off Reddit. I'm not getting into the way this fandom talks about race, especially for Asian islanders. I just want to talk about the WLW routes as that was the main point of your ask.

I want to make sure I've acknowledged and responded to everything you said, so please see below.

[This got long AF. TL;DR at the end.]

Locked out of routes, and Male LIs being forced on you

This isn't new to this season, and in my opinion it's been done dramatically better than previous seasons. I've played all of them, and almost every single season holds the female LI back until the end. Marisol, Elisa, Najuma, Angie, Dana, Lulu, Bella, Chloe, Flo, Bonnie, I don't think you could couple up with a single one of them until the final recoupling. The only exceptions were S1 and S3, I think? I believe you could get with Talia slightly earlier (and have Sammi come in later as a LI for the guy who otherwise would be dumped), and AJ/Yasmin you could couple up with and make Tai and Ciaran get together. But that's only 2 seasons from 8.

(Note: I see you said you could couple up with Vicky in S7, and I'll be honest, I barely played S7 as I found the writing itself extremely lacklustre. So I'll have to take your word for it that they somehow made that work.)

I get that it's frustrating to be separated from a female LI until late game. It's a sentiment I've heard every single season since I started playing alongside the releases. But realistically, this is how the game is structured. Love Island, as a premise, is based on heterosexual relationships. Pairing off and being in heterosexual couples, etc. Same as something like 'the Bachelor'. Two female contestants could be together, sure. But that's not how the show is structured. The only real solutions have been in S1 and S3, both of which I've already mentioned. I'd love to see more MLM couples made canon, or creative ways of letting us couple with women earlier, but I don't think there's one simple solution. This particular show is aimed at het couples. As unfair as it may seem, that's how the game is structured. (Crossing my fingers for canon MLM couples. PLEASE!)

I also disagree that WLW routes are written to be a bonus thing for bi women to do once they finish the good routes. Claudia's route has been a main route since day one in the villa. The fact that you can only have a relationship with either Theo OR Claudia means they intended from the very beginning to have whichever one of that couple you choose be the slow burn route- the route that you can't get on until the very end.

To say that 'Watching Claudia grind on Theo made me physically sick'-- Congratulations and welcome to the slowburn route 😂 I feel exactly the same way when Theo REJECTS ME OUTRIGHT and says he's only interested in Claudia, or when Suresh's heartrate gets raised the most by Lulu, or when I finally couple with Jake and he tells me I should pursue Levi. Don't you think the fact that it's had such an impact on you shows how well-written she is as a female LI? Claudia is AMAZING. But she's also bisexual. She's allowed to be torn between a male and a female LI and want to explore relationships with both, and I don't think it's fair to be angry that she's playing out all her options. That just means she's a well-written bisexual character. (Side note may I remind you that you've been able to take Claudia to the hideaway, and sleep in a bed with her, whereas Theo girls were only able to KISS the dude for the first time within the last week!!!! 😭) I think the only canonical lesbian routes are Angie from S4 and A.J. from S3. But even so, they're both questioning while in-villa and only come out either towards the end or in the post-season. You can watch AJ's route on Youtube if you didn't get a chance to play. Also, you're not locked out of the WLW route if you're bi/into men. Only if you're interested in Theo specifically. This is definitely somewhere they could improve-- I wanted Theo and Claudia, but eventually went back to play a straight route for Theo. However, I DESPERATELY wanted to flirt with Bea. It would've been wonderful if we'd been able to flirt with her separately. (I think I did get this option, but I believe it may have been a glitch). An option early in the game when the female LI asks you could be:

Yes, I'm into you!

No, I'm not into you, but I might be into other women

No, I'm not into women.

The Female LIs are merging together

Welcome to Love Island the Game by Fusebox games, where all the love interests merge and the personalities don't matter. You're not alone here, and it's not NEARLY as bad as previous seasons. Watch Najuma, Bruno, and JAMES have exactly the same dialogue in S4 despite being wildly different personalities. Watch Lewie, Jamal and Ryan be completely interchangeable. This isn't exclusive to WLW routes.

The female LIs are hidden behind a gem wall.

Again, this is the same for everyone, even players on a straight route. FB are greedy.

Being LGBT is treated like a side mission

It's something you're only allowed to do behind closed doors. You can pay to make out with a girl in every episode

This is hard. I get why you feel like this, anon, I really do. But I genuinely do think that this is the devs trying to give you something. They know it's frustrating to have to wait so long to couple with a female LI, so they try and give you bonus opportunities along the way to connect with your love interest. Almost every single smut scene written in the scripts has a female alternative. Again, I'm not saying that it's perfect, but having looked at and manipulated the scripts for four seasons now, I can absolutely assure you that this has not always been the case. They ARE improving and giving you more opportunities to spend time with your female LI than you had in previous seasons.

TL;DR

I'm not saying S8 is a perfect season for WLW routes.

The part I'm disagreeing with is where you said it's the worst season.

I absolutely disagree with that. There are far worse seasons. Even the golden child Season 2 didn't let you couple up with a woman until right at the end, watching her graft and grind on everyone BUT you. We also don't even know for sure that we can't couple up with a girl until the last week. The game's still being released. (I won't be surprised if that's the case though.)

I think Claudia and Bea are EXCELLENT female love interests in comparison with what we've had previously. They're both beautiful, they have unique personalities, they have very different routes (Claudia's confused between you and Theo, Bea's your bestie to lover and she's got terrible taste in men, dear god please save her).

I understand WANTING more WLW routes, but from a development point of view, there are simply not enough opportunities in the real-life structure of LITG to have fully blown out WLW routes. And even if they were, FB Games are not going to be financially motivated to do so. Their main customer base ($$$) is pursing a het route, so that’s who they’re creating for. They can't even get through the hetero routes without the characters merging personalities. There are other games doing this well, including fan-made games, which I'd recommend checking out. I don't have the link handy to the game pages, but check out @thatwheelchairchick, I believe she's working on an alternative game?

Anyway, I hope that clarifies my position on why I think they're worth playing. Sorry that it turned into an essay.

[haru-natsuka]

Kiss-o-meter (Kalim Al Asim x Female Reader x Jamil Viper)

Genre: Romance

There were several types of kissing. However, when both of them use the kiss-o-meter, it would just lead them to get 0 and yet when it involved you, what level of their kisses could be?

First of all, I apologise for taking a long time in finishing this one-shot. I'm trying to make it as good as possible. Dedicated all of my sincere thanks to @thebisexualonesworld for requesting this story. Hope you and everyone will love it!

The machine blared out a loud up beat rhythm as Kalim stared at it with a melancholy look while Jamil just wanted this torture in his life to end. For how long had he tried to console his dorm leader to forget about the game, he had lost count as he very much felt enormous regret in telling Kalim about the machine he found in his treasure vault.

"It cannot be broken," Kalim whine again and again while Jamil just stared at him with a grunted expression. His eyes twitched for thousand times this night due to the unmeasurable stress. He had so many things to do that he could not understand the need for his presence by Kalim's side right now. It was just a game to measure kisses and nothing more after all! Should he mention they were in boy school and that there was no concrete reason for the son of Asim to measure his kiss at this moment?

"I know! Let's have magic carpet fetch Y/N! She always knows to solve complicated problems" Jamil's eyes opened wide due to Kalim's sudden exclamation. Before, Kalim could excitedly continue his attempt in searching for the magic carpet, the back of Kalim's cloth was swiftly grabbed by Jamil before he could escape beyond his range. The hold was pretty tight as Kalim's body was pulled back with a sudden force.

"There's no need to call Y/N! It's not like she will play it with you!" More than speculate of your rejection of Kalim's invitation, Jamil was the one who hoped for you to not play it with Kalim. Although Jamil had clearly emphasized words and yet he did forget how dense Kalim could be most of the time. He was someone who always got what he wanted after all that he was indeed ignorant of another opinion.

"That's brilliant, Jamil! Why I don't think to let Y/N play too." Let's just say that was left speechless once again as he felt like he was giving the wrong ideas to Kalim. No, Jamil very much disliked the idea of you playing with Kalim. He had already backed off a lot of times so he could never outshine Kalim but he would never prefer to sacrifice you too. He would be a fool if he said he would not notice the way Kalim looked at you as if he was smitten by your charms too, just like him. Therefore, he had planned to lessen the interaction between the two of you.

"What are you guys doing?" As it fated was even not on Jamil's side, you were the one who came into the room by yourself and apparently, you came by because Grim dragged you into Scarabia in hope of eating some spice food.

"Y/n!" Kalim excitedly greeted you while Jamil only sigh from the despair in his life.

"This can't be happening..."

"We just tried playing with this machine that Jamil found. It's a gift from my father a long time ago."

"That seems interesting. So, what this machine is about, Kalim?"

"It is a machine which evaluates how good your kissing is but you see here-" Kalim held the handle and the meter did not even move again as he expected. "- I think it broken."

"Or, perhaps you play it wrong? Do you play it as per in the instruction?" As the realisation hit him, he shake his head and just beamed as he usually would. As you checked on the machine for the instruction, you found it just placed beside the handler and read it, you immediately could guess which part Kalim did the mistake but of course, you did not expect Jamil to do so. He was claimed to be the most intelligent student in school by Azul. Despite that, instead of prying further, you decided to put it aside first and proceeded to help Kalim first.

"That's it! You should kiss the person you like while holding the handler. Do you get it, Kalim?"

"I see, kiss the person I like..."

Kalim closed his eyes and tilted his head a bit to ponder over your statement. Before you could comprehend whether Kalim fully understand the rule or not, you suddenly felt he cupped your face and his lips already brushed gently against yours. Eyes widened in pure shock while both of your hands were left hanging midway by Kalim's side, literally you were too speechless to do anything. Whether to move or speak.

Kalim's kiss lasted longer on your lips than you expected it could. He was known for being an innocent boy after all. Now, where that boy had gone? His kiss was gentle and loving. It was just a brush against the surface of lips without the involvement of the tongue, making you more focused on the warmth and softness of his lip which engulfs you to wonder about his perception of the taste of your lip too.

Was it rough? Was it too dry? Did he even regret it? He did not even pull you closer towards him and deepened the kiss and yet a rush of relief washed over you. His kiss was awkward just like yours which mean he was inexperienced in this field. What kind of feeling were you having right now?

When you both parted away, with Kalim ended the kiss first, he noticed how flustered you were as your eyes were averting on everywhere but him as you fiddled with your fingertips nervously. His appearance must not be that much different from yours as he could feel the flush on his face too.

He would never forget how giggly you made him feel. He would prefer to look at you more with the loving gaze he could casually throw on your way if it not for a sudden sound that came from the machine. Certainly, both of you forget about Jamil whose jaws already dropped to the floor. The scene he witnessed was just too much for him to handle😐.

Just then, Kalim noticed the meter suddenly raised up not until 100 but it exceeding to 120. It should be expected as he kissed the person he loved after all. Not anyone else but you, his first love. That was when he felt this sudden urge to share his feelings with you. Somehow, the machine made him more certain of his love towards you.

"Y/n, I love you so much" The usual high enthusiastic voice of his was replaced with a soft tone as if he whispered the word to you rather than it was being a talk.

"Ka-Kalim, I-I"

"The person reflected in your eyes should be your master. You shall answer when you are asked, and you shall obey when you are ordered. Snake Whisper" The need for you to reply to Kalim's confession was immediately gone when Jamil immediately placed himself between the two of you and used his unique magic on his dorm leader. Under hypnotise, Kalim was ordered to go back to his chamber to sleep.

You could just watch the entire scene that felt somehow odd with how fast Jamil action in stopping the intimate moment of Kalim and you. As you tried to find the answer, you could figure out only one. Without any hesitation, you clear the doubt you had from a while ago about Jamil by pouring your true thoughts in front of him.

"Jamil, you are in love with Kalim right?" You voiced out as if you discover the greatest secret in the world. Now you finally remembered, whenever you were with Kalim, you would always notice how displeased Jamil would be with the situation and his action during Kalim's confession tell it all.

"You are indeed jealous of me! Why I don't notice this before"

"Wa-wait...Y/N, WHERE THIS ACTUALLY COME FROM!"

"Is it wrong for you to fall for Kalim because he is your master? That's why you kept this a secret. I see... so it's a forbidden love. Don't worry Jamil, if something troubles you I'm here. I'll be the number one fan for the couple!" Jamil's shoulders were being patted by you as a sign of your support for him and he could be only disappointed with the lack of recognition of his feelings for you. In the worst case, you even thought of him for having a thing for KALIM. Out of everyone, KALIM!

"Really...Y/N, I expect more from you. Heh, better to just show you" Your hands on his shoulders were being pulled closer to his body so he could sneakily wrap his arms around your body. You jerk back to broaden the proximity between you and him but his hold was just too strong to release yourself.

Jamil's finger was already lightly holding your chin so your head tilted up, focusing your eyes only on him before his lips smashed against yours, gradually stealing all your breath away. You could feel the tip of his hot tongue poking on the surface of your lips before it was forced into yours. The heat rose in both of your cheeks as Jamil lead the kiss. The intense and passionate spark remained in both of his eyes during the kiss.

After a while of a breathless kiss, both of you finally parted away. You blinked once and twice to comprehend the situation. You thought Jamil loved Kalim but he kissed you. What was this?

"Hmmm if you kiss someone you love, it will reach 120. Not bad" Without you noticing it, during the kiss, Jamil had tested the machine too. Jamil tucked your hair behind your ear while sheepishly smiling at you.

The walk to the guest room was just accompanied by the silence surrounding as both of you did not talk much after the kiss. You were too indulged in the flashback of the kisses until you did not even notice the side glance Jamil threw at your way multiple times with only one question in his mind. Did you feel bothered by the kiss?

If you felt guilty, he was much worst than that as first, he kissed the person his master loved so much and second he did not express his true feeling to you properly. Even worst, he did not confess like Kalim at all. Where was the courage he got when he kissed you? Was holding back and letting Kalim take everything from him had remained as one of his habits? Even his feelings towards you?

Could you tell him that you enjoyed the kiss as much as how he did instead of having that troubled expression on your face? Indeed, Jamil interpreted you wrong because he never ask. Loving someone so much was a scary thing as it could make you feel suddenly insecure with everything related to that person.

"I'm sorry about the kiss, Y/N. That's why I'll-"

"No, Jamil it's not like-"

“The one reflected in your eyes is your master. If I ask, you shall answer me; if I command it, you shall bow to me. Snake Whisper. Do you will obey anything I said"

Even though it was painful for Jamil to ask you to forget about him, about the part of the memory you had with him that night, he still needed to do it. Your happiness was much more important to him than his throbbing heart and the pain was visible to your eyes. However, nothing could you do. He already enchanted his magic on you. A tear slipped down your face as you reluctantly letting yourself being controlled by Jamil.

"Yes, master. I will do anything for you."

"Please forget about the kiss and... sleep well, Y/N" whisper the last word

He was a coward, he could not do it. He was still the pathetic servant that he hated so much. When he had grown to a much better person, he would pursue you once more and properly convey his feelings. How he wished he still had his chance until the time came.

He realizes his doing so he hypnotises you to forget about the kiss. After he had sent you to your dorm did he realise his mistake. He ask you to forget about the kiss but never specified his or Kalim's. So, which kiss would you forget?

[kpop-stories-21]

If You Walk Away, I Know I'll Fade

Group: TXT

Pairing: Yeonjun x Fem!Reader

Requested by: @anyamaris

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres + AUs: Non-Idol AU, College AU, Bad Romance, Angst, Lovers to Enemies

Content & Trigger Warnings: Bad boy!Yeonjun, Florist!Reader, strong language, toxic relationship, Yeonjun is mean, Reader is mean at the beginning, bullying, name-calling and use of derogatory words, heartbreak, hurt feelings, regret, rejected apology, breakup, loss of feelings, hate, anger

Summary: You're used to Yeonjun being mean, teasing people and calling them awful names. You just brush it off as harmless fun, calling the ones that get upset wimps who can't take a joke. But when Yeonjun's acidic words get turned on you, you suddenly realise just how toxic your boyfriend really is.

Tags: @kpop---scenarios @stardragongalaxy @jeonrose @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @skeletor-ify @biaswreckingfics @liliesofdreamsskz @pyeonghongrie-main @naturalogre @bxffietheblxxdy TXT tags: @spicyseonghwas @you-make-skz-stay

If you want to be added to my taglist, click here

Network pings: @cultofdionysusnet | @sandsofire

Inspiration: "Gotta Be You" by One Direction (title is from the lyrics)

A/N: If you liked this work and want to request your own oneshot, feel free to send me an ask! This one shot is also my entry for the @cultofdionysusnet spring event "The Language of Flowers"

MDNI banner, divider, and support banner courtesy of @cafekitsune

Event Masterlist | Main Masterlist

"I wish I could give you my pain just for one moment. Not to hurt you, but so that you could finally understand how much you hurt me." - Unknown

You'd always known Yeonjun was mean sometimes in the way he talked about people, but it had never been aimed at you so you never saw much reason to try and break him of the habit. In fact, you often joined in; the two of you ripping a person’s confidence or self-esteem to shreds with just a few well-worded sentences. If someone else called you or your boyfriend out on your behaviour, labelling you as bullies or some such nonsense, you’d say it was just a joke and that they were wimps if they got so worked up over it.

Needless to say, neither of you gained many friends, but that wasn’t much of a concern. Both of you already had a few friends and felt no compulsion to make more. Most of your friends also liked to participate in your verbal warfare, the whole group sometimes ganging up on one poor soul. One such occasion led your victim to tattle to a faculty member, the end result being that both you and Yeonjun were suspended for two weeks. Your parents had come down for a visit after receiving a call from the college and tried to talk you out of your “immature behaviour”, but their words fell on deaf ears.

Things went on like this for a while, until your junior year, when everything suddenly changed.

It started out as a normal morning, waking up and getting ready for the day’s classes. Yeonjun picked you up from your apartment as usual and drove to the college, giving you a kiss before you went to your respective classrooms. After sitting down in your usual spot, you turned to greet your friend Jihua. The green-eyed girl leaned towards you, her blonde ponytail falling onto your shoulder.

“How are you handling things?” She asked, a mix of sympathy and curiosity lacing her tone.

You looked at her in confusion, having no idea what she was talking about.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” You asked. Clearly something had happened that you were supposed to know about already.

Jihua pulled out her phone, tapping the screen a few times before passing it to you. On the screen was a post from Yeonjun’s private Instagram, the timestamp showing that it was posted before he picked you up this morning. The post itself was an extremely unflattering picture of you, and under it Yeonjun had added the caption “Who took my pretty little girlfriend and replaced her with this ugly old fat-ass?!”

Tears blurred your vision, heart slowly cracking in two. Suddenly you understood how all those people you’d said similar things to had felt. They hadn’t been wimps at all, they were probably deeply hurt by those words. Regret and loathing pooled in your throat like bitter bile, and in that moment you were no longer blind to how toxic your relationship with Yeonjun truly was.

Jihua wrapped an arm around you and hugged you tight while you worked to compose yourself. When you were a bit calmer she leaned back, clearly about to pose a question. Unfortunately, the professor chose that very moment to enter the room and announce the start of class. Your friend sighed, giving you one more hug before picking up her pen and facing the front. You copied her actions, the dull ache within keeping you from applying your full attention.

That morning’s classes were like hell, your mind far from present. Even a couple of the teachers seemed concerned by your atypical lethargy, but had other obligations that prevented them from offering more than a passing “are you alright?” Your only response was to nod mutely and go on your way.

At lunch you and Jihua sat by yourselves, avoiding Yeonjun and your other friends like the plague. For what was probably the first time ever, you were glad Jihua never liked nor participated in the bullying. It was nice to have someone with you while your whole world crumbled down around you.

At one point Yeonjun looked like he was going to come over and question your behaviour, but the sight of a potential victim distracted him. You knew you would have to confront him eventually, but you just weren’t ready yet. You needed some time away, a bit of separation, before you could even think about calling your boyfriend out for his actions.

The rest of the afternoon was just as tense, some of the students eyeing you with disgust or whispering to their friends as you walked by. It seemed you were the only one who had no access to Yeonjun’s private posts, and your heart sank at the thought of his poisoned words spreading through the college. Would even Jihua turn against you if all the students believed Yeonjun instead of you?

Your thoughts continued to spiral over the next few days, your grades beginning to suffer as you went about each day on autopilot, going through the motions without a single thought behind your actions. If Yeonjun thought something was off before, he knew it for sure now, and tried to talk to you at every possible moment. You continued to avoid him, along with most others. Jihua was the only one who could get through to you, and even then it was often just for minutes at a time.

Then one day, about a week after everything went to shit, you finally felt able to tell Jihua what had sent you spiralling so deeply. Curled up on your bed under a thick blanket, you broke the tense silence.

“He did it on purpose, you know. Posting that where he knew he could get away with it because I wouldn't see it.”

“How did he know you wouldn't see it?” Jihua queried, looking confused.

“He told me once, back when we first started dating, that he rarely ever posted on his private account so there was no need for me to follow it. And like the little fool that I was, I believed him without even questioning a thing.” You took a deep breath and continued your explanation.

“He knew, he fucking knew, that I had past issues with my self-esteem and body image. I told him that when we first got together, and he promised never to do anything that would damage the fragile progress I’d made.

“After you showed me the post he made that day, I made note of the username and looked it up when I got back to my apartment. He's been making fun of me and my looks for years, pretty much from the moment we met. And this whole time I've been glued to his side without a single clue what was going on behind my back.”

Tears filled your eyes and you quickly blinked them back, afraid any interruption might break your resolve.

“I have been such an asshole to everyone around who wasn't deemed a friend, all for a guy who didn't even care about me. God, those poor people…the things I said…I don't even recognize who I am anymore. I thought I liked the person I'd changed into, but now that the blinders are off, I hate who I've become.”

You sat up, gazing at your only true friend out of bloodshot eyes. “What do I do, Jihua? How do I tell him it's over without letting him woo me back in?”

Jihua thought for a moment, then smiled widely as an idea came to her. “You work part time at your mom’s flower shop, right? And you know a lot about which flowers mean what?”

You nodded in response to both questions.

“Well, find some flowers that will say what you want him to know, send them to him, then cut him off and don't look back.”

There was silence for a moment as you mull over Jihua’s plan. You had to admit, it was right down your alley. And this way, you didn't even have to see him; someone else would deliver the flowers for you. The tiniest of smiles bloomed on your face as you said, ”I think that's just what I'll do.”

It took you a couple days’ research to find what you were looking for, but soon you discovered the blossoms you wished to send: orange lilies, for hatred and/or revenge. On the day you found them, you and Jihua headed straight to your mom's flower shop after classes. Luckily, there was a large supply of orange lilies and soon you had a fair sized bouquet of them complete with a short but scathing note informing Yeonjun that the relationship was over.

“Will he pick up on what they mean?” Jihua queried.

You nodded. “He should, he knows I’m really into flower meanings because of working with Mom. And if he doesn’t know directly what they mean, I’m almost certain he’ll look them up.” You let out a deep sigh. “Now all we have to do is wait until he gets them.”

“How will you know when he gets them?”

You grimaced, already envisioning the explosion of texts and calls you would inevitably receive. “Oh, trust me, I’ll know.”

It took a couple of days for the flowers to reach Yeonjun’s apartment, but as soon as they did he started blowing your phone up. Some of the messages were angry, his temper on full display as he let fly with insults that brought you to tears. Other messages were just straight-up pitiful, you could almost see him down on his knees grovelling and begging just from the way the texts were worded. If it hadn’t been for Jihua staying by your side and helping you sort through your emotions, you might’ve ended up crawling back with your proverbial tail between your legs. As it was, you ended up just powering your phone off to get away from his incessant pursuits.

By the time the weekend passed and you returned to class on Monday, the danger of him winning you back over had passed and you were firm on your decision to distance yourself. Jihua had advised going no contact if he didn’t back off soon, and you kept the thought in the back of your mind as you entered your biology class. Jihua didn’t have this class with you, so you took a seat at the very back where Yeonjun wouldn’t see you since he and the others always sat at the very front.

You kept your head low, working on your project for your drawing class as you waited for your professor to arrive. You heard shuffling at the front of the room and looked up just in time to see Yeonjun and his friends taking their seats in the front row. You see his head start to turn and look down quickly, focusing back in on your drawing. Footsteps move towards you with purpose, and you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder. You look up into Yeonjun’s face, his dark eyes swirling with a mix of unreadable emotions.

“What do you want?” You ask sharply, a tinge of bitterness in your tone.

Yeonjun looks taken aback, but sits down beside you anyway. “Those flowers you sent me…what do they mean? I wanted to look them up, but a part of me was afraid to.”

You take a deep breath and look Yeonjun in the eyes. “Orange lilies symbolise hatred and revenge. You hurt me Yeonjun, and no amount of yelling or pleading will change that. When we first started dating I specifically told you what would hurt me most, and you swore never to do that to me. Then you turn and do that very thing behind my back for years! We are through, Yeonjun, and I honestly regret ever dating you in the first place.”

By this point you are trembling with rage and tears are threatening to stream down your face. You know there’s no way you can pay attention through a class right now, so you quickly gather your things and all but run from the classroom, taking refuge in an empty art room. After calming yourself down, you put in your earbuds and pull out the sketchbook you’d been drawing in earlier. Picking a high-energy playlist to help keep you from falling into the doldrums, you turn to a blank page and start a new drawing, channelling all your emotions into each and every line.

As you drew you reminded yourself that this was not the end. You would move on, and you would be okay. Your happiness did not have to end here, at Yeonjun’s expense. You could be the better person and prove that you could survive without him. Pulling out your phone, you sent a text to Jihua.

You smiled and pocketed your phone, returning to your drawing.

Two years later

A lot had happened since you broke up with Yeonjun, and you honestly couldn't be happier.

Several months afterwards you met a really sweet guy named Yuta, and the two of you hit it off immediately. Yuta was a few years older than you but was almost the complete opposite of Yeonjun, always making sure you knew how beautiful you were and how much he loved you. He made you feel like the most special person in the entire world, and you soaked it all up like a dry sponge.

Not long after the breakup Yeonjun quit showing up at college, and you heard through the gossip grapevine that he was not handling it well at all, going so far as refusing to eat or come out of his dorm room. You couldn't help but feel a little twinge of glee at this, knowing that he now understood how you had often felt. After that you quit paying attention to the rumours, feeling like the chapter had now been closed for good.

One year after you first met Yuta he proposed to you, and you happily said yes. Your life soon became quite busy, between finals, graduation, and wedding planning; but you could honestly say it was the best time of your life. For the first time ever, you felt truly loved and cared for, and it was the best feeling in the whole entire world. With Yuta by your side, you could be wholly and completely okay.