#part of me is like 'should we stay away so we don't burden already burdened services...?'

[cookinguptales]

I managed to get tickets to see Rebecca (in Philly) and Vertigo (in NYC) in the second half of February so like

if I start posting a lot of weird, sad SNM fic around then, it's to be expected. lmao

[lovegasmic]

 THE BEAST

⋆ wriothesley + fem!reader

( girl u in jail what did you doooo? /j it's not mentioned you probably stole a fonta idk )

⋆ mdni. heat cycles, knotting, praising, he fucks u hard rip that pussy. pet names: good girl, baby. reposting the fic I'm most proud of.

"you shouldn't be here"

"if you hate me that bad then…"

there's a chuckle resonating through the walls, metal rings around fingerless gloves clicking against the metal railing as the Duke makes his way down the stairs and next to you.

still at your side the man was a couple inches taller than yourself, bringing a slight feeling of nervousness around your body, or perhaps it was a natural response to the 'tiny' crush you had on him.

"your imprisonment is over, you're free to leave this place" Wriothesley mentions, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowing with a hint of scolding in his words to which you only shrug in return.

"i like to help Sigewinne in the infirmary" that wasn't a complete lie, but part of the reason for your continuous presence in such a place was due to the dark haired man currently standing next to you, whose presence was enough to get your knees weak and heart pumping wildly.

"mhm, I don't believe you" he mentions dully, fingers rubbing on the bridge of his nose yet his lips held a small smile on them, "I just wanted you to know I'll be out for a couple of days, a week at max"

"what?" you let out a high pitched sound, even though his erratic schedule wasn't news for anyone around, a week was far longer than any of his other absences.

"don't worry, Clorinde will drop by to check everything is in order" you stiff a huff, if anything, you weren't to admit the prison was the least of your worries.

"take care" was the only thing you managed to say. his hand felt heavy on your shoulder once he replied with a soft "you too"

a day passed and you already felt as if your 'not' lover left for war. the fortress remained the same as well as your usual activities at the infirmary, but the emptiness Wriothesley left alongside the usual meetings for tea and having lunch at the cafeteria started to burden.

but, on the other hand, a sense of pride bloomed in your chest since many of the guards went to find you and ask for advice regarding the fortress, quoting to their own sentences, you were the one his grace trusted the most.

"I am very sorry to bother you miss" one of the man said, "but since the Duke is out and miss Clorinde is still left to come back we decided it will be the best if you knew beforehand" strange rumors started to raise ever since Wriothesley left, some kind of 'beast' was heard from one of the pipes, and even though many guards already searched for clues, nothing was found.

"it's fine" you sighed, "please warn everyone to stay away from that place, at least until this issue gets fixed.

"it will be alright" Sigewinne smiles your way, trying to get your nerves on check while bandaging a man's scratched forearm, a match just took place due to the sudden influx of injured men, luckily no one was in mortal danger, but it was enough to keep you busy until your work hour was over.

but you should have expected that what the guard mentioned earlier was to keep you awake all night, to drag you out of bed and sneak past whoever was on patrol duty that night.

the mentioned zone was clear, no guards or prisoners looking for a challenge with an unknown danger, but especially, no sound besides the occasional water drop hitting a puddle on the floor.

another thing was the cool and smooth metal panels covering the walls, where your fingers slid trying to find any clue, knuckles hitting the material and ear pressed to find any possible hollow area.

and for what it felt like an eternity later, you heard a soft growl from behind the wall, right where your ear was pressed against.

you gasped by consequence, failing to stiff the sound so whatever was on the other side didn't hear you.

apparently, it did, since the growling stopped completely at the same time your back turned to flee and warn anyone nearby, as soon as your foot took a step, a hand covered your mouth and dragged you into some kind of dim lighted room before the door closed right in front of you, it was rough and calloused, and you could've had recognized it in the spot if it weren't because of the fear surrounding your whole body and freezing you in place.

"calm down" a voice rasps in your ear, an incredible mix of emotions running through your body in just a couple of seconds, starting with confusion since you were certain that was Wriothesley 's voice, passing to worry as to why is he in such place and lastly, flustering at the feeling of something poking on your lower back, his arms and chest warm and bare against your body.

"Wriothesley…" you pant once his hand leaves your mouth, "what is going on?"

he exhales heavily, letting you free from his embrace way too quickly for your liking, but allowing your eyes to take in his scar covered chest, drops of sweat dripping down his forehead and dampening the dark fabric of his half buttoned pants, and oh… he was hard. painfully you might add with how his trousers seemed to be about to burst.

"I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner" he starts and you think it should be you apologizing for thinking lewdly of him, "but you have to go"

"what?"

"it's not safe for you to be here" the man grits his teeth, backing up until the back of his knees touch a bed you failed to notice before, sitting on it with no care while his hands are in fists, tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

the threatening growl from man makes you flinch slightly, yet that doesn't stop you from taking a step closer, bared teeth with a single fang peeking from his bottom lip that buries in the lower until a single bead of blood pops up.

"tell me what's going on" you whisper in a slightly demanding tone, your relationship was close enough to mess and joke around, but watching him in this situation, and that he was so hesitant to speak broke your heart.

"i—" he swallows hard when you're close enough to smell your scent, a brief and almost imperceptible hint of arousal clouding his brain and stealing a hiss against his will.

unaware of the situation, thinking Wriothesley is in serious pain, you decide to rest a hand at the top of his shoulder, a friendly motion he often did with you but now, he just wanted to pull you by that hand and kiss you until you ran out of breath.

"I..." he starts again, gently holding your wrist and bringing it up to his mouth, smiling when you shiver visibly, "I go through heats, once every a couple of months"

"oh"

he chuckles, warm and genuine, raising his head to observe your expression, leaving you with shaky knees, his bright blue eyes a tone darker, hair damp and messy, inviting you to thread your fingers on it and kiss him stupid.

"that's why you're not safe here" the Duke whispers, still with his lips against your growing pulse, "I've been dying to rip your clothes off ever since I saw you, now it feels like I'd definitely die if I don't touch you in the next five minutes"

you gasp, surprised and turned on before replying, "make it one" and in the blink of an eye you're kissing him, hard and desperate while your body melts against his, pliantly letting him drag you down and sit you in his strong thigh where you're quick to grinding against, sloppily like the kisses you share.

"fuck" he growls and you moan, allowing his tongue to slip past your mouth while his thumbs press tight on your jaw, opening for a better reach while you can only take it and claw onto his nape.

his knee bucks up in a steady rhythm, one of his hands sneaking below your skirt, all the way up from your bare thighs to your soaked panties, "you're wet, I can smell it"

a pained moan escapes your lips, face burning in embarrassment but the look on his face is rewarding enough, pupils blown out, lips red and puffy letting out breathy exhalations. you barely get enough time to observe him before your eyes shut unconsciously at the feeling of a pair of rough fingers coming in contact with your clit through the flimsy underwear fabric.

"can I… please…?"

"yeah" you gasp, earning a whine from the man right onto your neck where he's nibbling, quickly getting rid of your skirt and half ripping your panties in the process, his pants get undone next, enough to fit his cock between your dripping folds flicking your clit with the engorged cockhead before pressing into your tight cunt.

he's big, bigger than you had imagined during sleepless nights of you touching yourself, but you're incredibly wet and doing your absolute best in taking a fat cock.

"oh fuck…!" you mewl, pressing your chin to the side of his head while Wriothesley continues to bite on your shoulder, careful not to pierce the skin as his hands find place on your hips, busy pushing your body down to take him whole.

"take it" he exhales, "I know you can take it, baby" and you whimper at the praise, thighs shaking from the stretch. his breath is hot against your collarbone, hips rolling forward that causes his cock to rub against the firm spot inside your cunt that leaves you limp, tugging your shirt from above your head so his hands freely get to palm at your tits once he's fully bottomed out, giving you a moment to adjust while he plays with your nipples.

"there we go" Wriothesley pants, hips snapping forward to fuck you deep, clutching onto the back of your head next to press his mouth against yours, bouncing your body up and down his cock in increasing speed.

"shit, shit!" Wriothesley groans, hips stuttering before stopping almost completely in what felt an attempt of self control, his tip coating your insides with immense amounts of precum, making you wonder just how much cum he actually held in those heavy balls that smacked against your ass in loud papping sounds.

"Wrio, you don't have to hold back" you whine through bitten lips, cupping his cheeks between your hands. and the moment where Wriothesley snaps will get forever burnt in your brain, starting from the deep rumbling groan, the twitch of his cock messily ruining your inside with hard precise thrusts, to the sudden movement of your whole body where he pins you down in bed, face down against the pillow with his hand pushing between your shoulder blades, ass up, face down while he successfully mounts you from behind.

his fat cock glides easily past your tight entrance, soaked in slick at the same time his thumb finds a place between your teeth, rubbing on your tongue the tangy taste of your slick.

"stay still" he grunts, dropping his forehead down between your shoulder blades while feeding your pussy the rest of his cock, "you smell so fucking good" Wriothesley is a mess of grunts and hisses, spreading out your ass cheeks to fit in properly inside your tight cunt, loving how the squelching sound comes louder in this position.

"too deep!" you scream, thighs shaking from the forcefully stretch of your walls around his cock.

"it's okay" he slurs, fingers pressing on your forehead to push you head up and kiss your temple, yet his hips continue to piston inside of you, dragging in your body with his on top of the mattress, his knees on each side of your thighs to perfectly fuck into you, driving his tip almost at your cervix with each thrust, "I got you, you're fine"

"Wrio" you sob, "feels so good"

"I know, baby, in know" he chokes out, eyes closed shut while pants escape freely between skin slapping, "you take it so good, my good girl, all mine"

"o-oh!" you whine, "Wrio please, you're so big, oh my god"

"don't say that" he grits, hips stuttering and pushing onto your waist so he gets to reach in much deeper than before, "I'm going to come soon"

"ngh" you moan, toes curling and pussy clenching.

"can I knot you?"

"yes" you reply way too quickly, digging your nails onto the sheets, pillow drenched from sweat and tears, "yes, please"

Wriothesley moans like a wounded animal, fucking you like one too with his hands on your head, pushing you down as if to submit you to him.

you can feel him twitching again, cunt fluttering in sync, clenching and begging to be filled with a scream of your own while you cum all over his cock, gasping loudly when his knot begins to push past your tight entrance.

"W-Wrio—" you sob.

"yes, I'm here, it's alright you can take it" he thumbs your clit, helping you ride out your high while his knot gets snuggled inside your cunt, digging his nails on the skin of your thighs while rutting into you, long and thick spurts of cum coating your walls.

"fuckin' perfect pussy, taking all of my cum" he groans, panting loudly and jerking his hips until every single drop of cum is stuffing your hole.

"are you alright?" he asks once you've calmed down, turning your body around to let you cuddle against his broad chest.

"yeah" you sniffle, overwhelmed.

"I forgot to ask how did you find me" the man grins, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head.

"people heard you growling like a beast" you sniffle again.

"... what?"

and you should have told him earlier, since you were certain now people might think that said beast was just some horny dog.

[vanesycho]

welcome to stray kids headcanon！| m.list | 1,7k word

stray kids as friends with benefits | who can continue without any feelings? who can't?

방찬 bang chan | he will be completely gentle and protective towards you. he will consider your wishes rather than his own and will make sure you are getting enough pleasure.

It would be hard for him to form a bond with anyone else, so I can see that he will only be with you. even thinking about being with someone else makes him question his loyalty and even if he tried, he wouldn't be able to. for him, this kind of relationship is only between you and him.

I think he will succumb to his feelings, he is an emotional person and it seems like he can't sustain this kind of relationship for long, but he can still stay silent. he may occasionally compliment you during sex, but you can't tell if he really means it. he will try to keep it up as long as he can. If his feelings start to get the better of him, he may decide to end this relationship and distance himself from you.

"I wanted to keep quiet just to be with you, but it's getting harder to carry this burden, y/n. I can't hide my feelings for you anymore."

리노 lee know | he is definitely controlled. he acts as close as he needs to be in a relationship and doesn't cross boundaries. he is someone I think he can handle. he will talk to you outside of this relationship but even in this he knows how to maintain boundaries. If he realizes that you are unknowingly getting close to him he will back away, he doesn't want you to think the wrong things or get carried away. he has no intention of being friends with you, just sex and that is enough for him.

as long as this thing between you continues he won't be with someone else, he just doesn't prefer it. he doesn't need someone else when he already has someone, he doesn't care if you are with someone else, all he cares about is you being there for him when he needs you.

"I see how much you value me, but maybe the best part is that we don't push each other too hard."

창빈 changbin | oh he's definitely falling for you. it'll be hard for him to stop. this kind of relationship is not for him at all, he had no idea why he got into it but now he's paying the price by liking you. changbin is an emotional person, even if he tries not to show it. so the slightest bit of interest you show him will make him think that you have an interest in him in his delusional world.

this will bother him for a while and he'll wonder if he should tell you. if you're with someone else, he'll 'joke' about it.

'It's not fair for you to do this when you're the only one in my life. that's not what we agreed on.'

i still don't think he'll be able to handle it for long, he doesn't want to lose you but the confusion in this relationship is wearing him out.

"i don't want you to misunderstand but i don't think i'm the right person for this. i feel like i'm falling for you more and more every day. maybe it's better if we end this."

현진 hyunjin | It 'might' be easy for him to have a non-emotional and fun relationship. he might invite you on dates outside of that and whine about not being able to win a plushie as if he didn't ruin you last night. It might be normal for people to think you're dating, you deny it every time, but after a while, he might start to wonder. If you're coming to the dates and you're not with anyone else, then why aren't you guys dating? that would solve everything faster.

he feels like it might help it put sex on the back burner for a while and focus on him.

'look, I'm the one who understands you the best, I wouldn't miss me if I were you'

'can you believe jisung said we look like a couple again today? that's weird, but you have to admit that we look good together'

he'll try to confuse you with things like that, well...whether it works or not is up to you of course.

I don't think he'll say that by asking you out on a serious date. more often he will say it out of the blue when you are together on a normal day, petting the dog or shopping at the grocery store.

"how do you feel about dating with me? I am the only person you do these things to and the only thing missing is a ask. I don't think there is any need to complicate things, besides i think we both like each other anyw- look! here is the chocolate you wanted."

한지성 han jisung | jisung is the worst person for this relationship and he still doesn't know how he got into it. for some reason i can see him doing it because he likes you and can't say it and then starting this with you so he can be close to you. or maybe he got nervous because others provoked him and told him he couldn't do it things like this.

because dude, i don't think there's a chance he won't have feelings. this topic will hurt him more emotionally and he might ignore you for a while. he might compliment you every now and then, try to show it somehow. he'll try to make things more than just sex between you. but if he can't show it, he'll eventually give up and say it.

he'll probably blurt out that he loves you during sex.

"i love you, i fucking love you so much. why can't you see that? i want to do these things as your boyfriend from now on."

필릭스 felix | he's complicated. you don't know if he's acting so close because he really loves you or if you're misunderstanding because he's really kind. he can really be the sweetest and best partner you've ever seen and thinks about you in this relationship. if felix doesn't have feelings for you, he can still act close to you. more like a friend you can talk to.

'look, i know what this relationship is but if you really need help, don't hesitate to call me. i want you to know that i care about you beyond that.'

if he does have feelings for you, he can spend some time alone to clear his head, he'll respond to your messages briefly and tell you that he's busy. during this time, he'll gather his thoughts and think it's more appropriate to tell you, he can't continue this knowing that he has feelings for you.

"i think i started to have feelings for you without realizing it. i'm sorry if i ruined everything y/n. but i don't think i can do these things anymore knowing that i love you."

승민 seungmin | this might be easy for him. he knows what not to do before starting a relationship like this and of course he doesn't forget the most important rule 'no emotional attachment'. knowing this and trusting himself, he doesn't think he can form an emotional attachment. if you're really in a difficult situation and don't have anyone to talk to, he'll be there for you but he doesn't see it as appropriate to meet up outside of that.

don't get me wrong, I'm not saying he's not an emotional person but if he's not sure of himself, he won't get involved in such things. he has a side to his life that you don't see and he prefers only those close to him to see him like that.

it's important for him to know what makes you feel good during sex, he wants to do it properly and if you don't like something, he wants you to tell him clearly so he can act accordingly afterwards. talking about such things comes easy to him and he wants you to feel comfortable too. do you want to hold hands during sex? he'll definitely keep that in mind.

"come on, tell me. I can't make you feel good if I don't know what you like. we're both in this together, and I care about what you like. I want my partner to feel good."

��정인 yang jeongin | this is fun for him for a while. the idea of freedom that comes with being young entertains him and he might start this to be like the others in a way. he's someone who doesn't know how to keep boundaries, so he'll invite you out on dates other than that. more fun dates where you hang out as friends and where sex isn't at the forefront.

you can see that he's the same in real life like he's the same in sex, he's hyperactive and never stops, he's not quiet during sex and he likes to tell you how good it feels even if he doesn't moan.

you can still see that he's more cheerful on dates, he might make flirty moves on you without realizing it, he's a total boyfriend material and he likes that idea.

still, this thing he started for fun and to be like the others might end up costing him. he might think like hyunjin, since you do everything together, what's the point of you not dating?

it might be hard for him to figure this out on his own, so i can see that he'll get help from someone. he gets advice from each of them and wants to make the right decision.

he's starting to love you and he doesn't want to lose you, all the time he spent with you so far is precious to him, you are precious to him. that's why he won't hesitate to tell you that he loves you when he's sure.

"this situation was fun but now every moment I spend with you makes me feel like my feelings are moving to another dimension. It's hard for me to continue like this but if you let me...I want to continue as your boyfriend from now on."

[astraystayyh]

can i get a drabble with any member of your choice (or if you can't choose, i'm actually thinking either jisung/lino👉🏻👈🏻,) where they are just enjoying a nice peaceful morning with you. (maybe after either a passionate or a tense angsty night for a little spice if u want hehe)

5422

Pairing : Han x reader, pre-established relationship.

Genre : Angst, fluff.

I've always wanted to write about Han and this just gave me the perfect opportunity to do so. Hope you'll like it <3

Fighting with Han is never fun.

You don't even remember what your disagreement was about, you just know that hurtful words were uttered, on both of your parts. And now, you're in the kitchen drinking your fourth glass of water, trying to delay the inevitable moment you'd have to go to your bedroom and face Han.

But it is already 11pm and you have to wake up early tomorrow. So you reluctantly place your glass down and head towards your bedroom. Your footsteps are heavy, and so is the burden in your heart.

You open the door slowly, to find Han already in bed, his back turned towards you. He kept the lights on for you, you realize. The small attention makes you stop in your tracks for a moment.

You quietly place Han's vitamins on his bedside before joining him in bed. There are mere centimeters between your bodies and yet they feel like a vaste ocean, stretching you farther and farther away from each other.

You find yourself missing your hushed conversations, the warmth of his body, and the way his hair tickles your neck when he pulls you closer to him.

But you are stubborn, and so is he. You won't yield first. So you stay put in your place, looking up at the ceiling. You know that sleep won't come easily to you tonight.

You don't know how much time has passed, but you can hear Han shift in his place. He sighs loudly before tapping your shoulder gently. "Come here," he whispers and you bite your lower lip forcefully.

"I'm still mad at you."

"I know. So am I. But I... I need you," he admits in a quiet voice and you feel all your anger melt away.

You inch closer to Han, tentatively resting your head on his chest, and his arms wrap around your body, pulling you closer to him. It feels safe and familiar, and you almost choke out a sob at the thought of not having him anymore.

"We'll figure it out, right? You're not leaving me," your voice is barely audible and Han's embrace tightens around you.

"Of course I'm not. You're not getting rid of me that easily," he teases and you chuckle lightly, the weight in your heart slowly unraveling, allowing you to breathe again.

When you wake up the next day, you find Han staring intently at you. You bury your face in his neck, too flustered by his intense gaze.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"It's hard to remember why I was angry when you look this pretty."

"Can we not do that again?" you pout, leaning back to look at him properly.

"Yeah, I hate fighting with you."

"Me too."

"We should come up with a code name for when one of us feels too overwhelmed, so we can give each other space," he proposes and you smile at him, "Like what?"

"A random word, like 'potato'."

"So in the middle of a fight you want me to say potato?" you giggle and he puffs his cheeks at you, "I don't know, we'll figure a better code later."

"Yeah? What will we do now?" you smile mischievously at him.

"Right now..." he trails off, his hand gently grazing your cheek, "I will kiss you to make up for all the lost kisses of yesterday."

"All of them? How many are we talking about?"

"5422 kisses." Your anniversary date.

"Isn't that too much?" you giggle and he shakes his head at you.

"There is no such thing as too much when it comes to you."

[rahuratna]

Nanami Kento: Relationship Headcanons (now a fic), Part 5

Contents: pre-relationship headcanons, slow burn, pining, humour

By the time you both leave the cafe, the streetlights have come on and the wind births small eddies, their burden of leaves swirling in dusty corners. You haven't nearly exhausted all the things you want to say to him, but something about this quiet walk home sparks something reverential in you. So, you'll let the evening spin a web of secrets around you, for now. It feels better to keep it that way.

Nanami stays close to you, his eyes trained on the pavement. His manner, so hard for you to read just a few months ago, is now familiar enough that you can see he is experiencing some internal struggle. You close your eyes momentarily, as you know full well what he must be considering.

Taking a small breath, you point out the car that he had called earlier. It is parked at the kerb, sleek, gleaming and slightly threatening in the dim light. You don't want to slip into the cool interior just yet, away from the inexplicable lightness being close to him brings. He stops abruptly, some distance still between the both of you and the car.

"Are you cold?"

"No. Not now."

You don't mean for the words to sound quite like they do. Nanami is silent before checking his watch and clearing his throat.

"I suppose our evening together ends here."

"We're still traveling in the same car."

He catches your teasing smile and raises an eyebrow.

"I suppose you're right. However, there's something I'd like to ask before we go."

"And that is?"

"Whether you'd like to visit another cafe with me next week."

The words come out of his mouth with uncharacteristic stiffness, slightly rushed. He eyes you as if from behind a shield composed of finest steel, a hint of longing hidden well beneath.

"I would certainly like that."

His shoulders drop slightly.

"You would?"

"You sound surprised."

"It's only polite to ask, of course."

"So you knew what my answer would be, for sure? Is that what you're saying?"

"Well, no -"

He clamps his lips together tightly and you laugh softly, taking a step towards him beneath the unsteady light of the old streetlamp. Something about how the tables seem to have turned in the past few minutes emboldens you.

"What about the time after that?"

"You've already decided then?"

"Should I not?"

"Well, what if it turns out that you don't actually like my company."

"I don't think there's any danger of that."

"What if I - " he paused and considers the car ahead of you, the corners of his eyes tight. "What if ... work gets in the way?"

You suddenly feel as if you're both standing on the deck of a flimsy raft in a turbulent sea. All the softness, the sweetness, the hushed longing of that afternoon, seems awfully fragile under the impending wave of his own pragmatism. Feeling the wind pick up around you, catching at your hair, you are fully aware of how tenderly you are looking at him. If you don't speak now, you would regret it later.

"You know, today I thought a lot about how simple our meal was. Just a few things, put together. I ... think I like simplicity. No, I always have. Good food can give you temporary comfort. You know what I mean. When you're exhausted and drained and want to forget everything else, there's something warm and inviting, that's waiting just for you."

He is silent, but in a way that lets you know he is taking in every word you say.

"And often, I don't know what tomorrow may hold. I think ... that sorcerers like you must feel that even more keenly. But even if I don't know, I still have some consistency in my day. I know that I have something small to look forward to, something that fills me and gives me strength."

You meet his gaze, pushing the words out before your burst of courage deserts you entirely.

"So, what I mean to say is, don't think too much about what may happen at work tomorrow, or the day after. If we have to re-schedule, that will be fine. Because ... I do enjoy your company and I hope you enjoy mine. And it's that simple for me."

Your words have almost failed you this time, but you stand there, holding your ground, willing him to understand what you're trying to convey. He looks back at you, and this time, the raw emotion, the hesitancy, the desire to do the right thing, is so evident in his eyes.

You think of the name he mentioned, the friend he had spoken of in the past tense. You knew, on some level, that this was something only Nanami could decide, no matter how badly you wanted more.

When you smile at him, there is no pain there. There is, instead, a soft blossoming in your chest that whispers your answer to you; that you can only ever want this man to be as comfortable and as happy as he could be. Nanami watches your lips, and then your eyes and he is drinking you in, as if he has seen something he can barely comprehend.

"Nanami, it's getting cold out here. Let's head in. You can message me if you want to go somewhere else soon."

You pat his sleeve lightly, the spell that has woven itself around the two of you evaporating, leaving traces of something solid and steadfast. As you turn to head to the car, his voice arrests you.

"Kento."

"Pardon?"

"Please refer to me as Kento from now on."

"Oh."

In spite of everything that's passed between you two today, it's this, of all things, that brings your mind to a shuddering halt.

"Well ... then it's only fitting that you call me ... "

When he says your name, cutting you off before you finish, you stare at him. Now your heart feels as if it has ceased to function entirely. Nanami, no, Kento, steps forward and past you, drawing you along in his wake. His voice holds something new, a different quality of warmth.

"Thank you for today. I'll find a good place for us to visit next time."

When he leans forward to open the door for you, his breath mingles with yours, and you think that you can almost taste the soft exhalation.

You feel unaccountably restless over the next few days. When you're at home, your hands are always occupied with something, whether cooking, cleaning or simply fidgeting with the corner of the blankets as you fail to fall asleep. Your mind is racing a mile a minute and shows no sign of slowing down. You wish your own thoughts would allow you a moment of rest.

Now, you know. You can finally shove open that mental door, even though the splinters catch in your skin and leave you raw and delirious.

He does feel ... something. He may even feel the same way, the same intense passion and longing. How can you even process this development? In all the years of your adult life, you have never experienced something like this. This is so much more than the obsessive quality of first love, so much more than a workplace crush, which you have certainly experienced before.

Why? Why did humans have to feel so intensely, to the point that it hurt, as if a javelin molded from purest, scorching sunlight had pierced your chest; an injury that had left you bleeding a viscous, golden ichor that you wanted to collect in your palms and pour over your joined bodies?

Ironically, what gives you a sense of stillness and serenity is the image of him you have committed to memory in that shining time. The smooth planes of his suit, the way the burnished collar pins caught and reflected the light against the clearcut lines of his jaw and neck. The small traces of shadow under each eye. The way he paid attention to how he occupied space, the natural strength and grace with which he moved. You can recall clearly the way his honeyed gaze caught and held yours, as if there was no shame in such an intimate glance, his darker lashes painting soft shadows against his cheeks in the afternoon sun. The hint of faint freckles on the backs of his hands.

It's when you allow yourself to move on from that image, when you remember that you'll have many more such images of him to refer to in your mind's eye (possibly), that the vicious cycle of restlessness returns.

The weekend arrives and you have plans. Plans to stay in and indulge in ordering takeout and catching up on your reading. The weather forecast promises rain and cold weather, something you don't particularly mind.

The last few days have been stressful. A large-scale exorcism of cursed spirits in an underground shopping centre had taken place and several younger sorcerers had sustained injuries. Fortunately, there had been no fatalities. You had been in charge of organizing the paperwork for their medical treatment.

As you return from a short run to the grocery store, rivulets of water pouring from the creases of your umbrella and raincoat onto the entryway floor, you notice a message notification silently awaiting your attention. The way your stomach clenches with pleasant anticipation tells you just how spoiled you have become. Expecting a message from the man who occupies your thoughts endlessly is certainly something that wouldn't have crossed your mind before. He has sent a simple question.

"Are you busy?"

Wait, what? Surely, he wouldn't want to meet in this kind of weather?

Shaking your head to clear it, you answer.

"Yes. Just got back home from the store."

His reply comes shortly after.

"Is it all right if I give you a call in a short while?"

"Sure."

Well, this was a new development. You hurriedly put the groceries away, wondering what he wanted to speak about. Within fifteen minutes, your phone rings. Towelling off your damp hair, you perch on the sofa in front of your space heater.

"Kento?"

There is silence on the other end.

"Hello? Can you hear me?"

"Ah, I can hear you just fine."

His voice pours into your ear like soft, mellow hickory smoke. You hadn't realised how much you'd desired to hear it again, until now.

"How are you doing? Were you deployed on that mission a few days ago?"

"Yes, I oversaw a few exorcisms. I heard there were several injuries in the other locations."

"Nothing serious, thankfully. Was Yuuji with you?"

"No. He was out with Gojo on a different task." He pauses. "I didn't call you to talk about work."

You can't control the smile that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

"Oh?"

"No. I wanted to know how your weekend is going."

"Very slowly. Just the way I like it."

"Just wait until Sunday."

You laugh at his foreboding tone. 

"Speaking from experience?"

"Yes. There's a strange warping effect on Sunday evenings. Like some kind of hiccup in the space-time continuum that makes those last few hours of freedom vanish into thin air."

"Haven't you found a remedy for that yet?"

"Have you?"

"Yes, actually. I have a Sunday evening self-care routine that drags the time out forever."

"I'm not too familiar with self-care."

"I can tell."

"Do you admire my resilience?"

"Not really."

"How harsh."

"Listen, if you've never felt the scrape of a good exfoliator or inhaled the scent of jasmine tea while massaging essential oils into your skin, you haven't really lived, Kento."

"I don't particularly trust essential oils."

"Oh no. Have they offended you?"

"Terribly. I once fought a cursed user who smelt as if he'd bathed in peppermint oil."

"Ugh. Hardly blame you then. How about you come up with something that involves no herbal remedies?"

The silence on the other end is longer this time, and when he speaks, the softness in his tone sends a spear of heat straight down through the core of you.

"I think I've found a good distraction."

Somehow, you're able to reply.

"I thought I said you should find something that involves no herbal remedies."

"Are you going to force feed me peppermint oil?"

"Possibly."

He waits for a while before answering, and when he does, his tone carries more weight.

"There's something you said, the day we had supper together. I wanted to tell you my thoughts on that."

You're silent, nervous. Had you spoken too brazenly that day?

"You said that you liked simplicity. That temporary comforts could bring happiness and make us feel better."

"I did."

"Hmm. My thoughts on that are ... conflicted. On the one hand, I agree. Small comforts are important in our lives. I like simplicity too. But what are small comforts without meaning behind them? I want to give all of my actions meaning, so that there can be no mistaking their purpose."

"What is your purpose, Kento?"

He doesn't hesitate this time.

"I want to spend more time with you. More than the occasional lunch. I want to know more about you, and I want you to know me. In a way that's more than a temporary comfort. It's not about what's proper. It's about what's right. I think you know by now that I don't take half-measures when it comes to things that are ... meaningful to me."

The straightforward quality of his words is like a nail pinning down the elusive nature of that dance you both have been conducting up until now. You almost lose the ability to speak, one hand clutching the arm of the sofa hard. There is an uncontrollable feeling, like hysteria, but not quite, rising in your chest. You hope that your voice isn't as hoarse with emotion as it sounds to you.

"I want to know you too, Kento. That would mean a great deal to me."

His relief is palpable.

"Then that's what we'll do from now on."

There is another pause, but this one is different. It's full of promise, a breath taken before diving deeper than either of you have before. Surprisingly, you find that you're the first one to break it.

"Want to start by telling me something about yourself? Something that I definitely don't know?"

"Hmm. I actually like the ridiculous hat that Yuuji bought me at the fair. The one we visited the other week."

"I asked you to tell me something that I don't know."

"You could tell that I liked it?"

"Kento, you showed it off to Gojo. And you enjoyed telling him that it was a limited edition just to see how disappointed you could make him."

"You're describing some kind of sadist."

"Yes. I'm describing you."

"Ah, very well. Here's something you're definitely not aware of."

"Well?"

"I like the way you say my name."

This absolute devil. For such a proper man, he certainly knew how leave you tongue-tied and flustered.

"Do you think if I say it often enough, the effect might wear off?"

He chuckles, a warm, rich sound.

"I suppose we'll have to test that theory."

@tsukimefuku @kentocalls @g-kleran @actuallysaiyan

[oceansarepink]

most of the montage of Blitzo feeling like he's hurt others in Ghostfuckers made some kind of sense (except the bit where Loona kicked him, idk why they didn't show the clip of Blitzo calling Loona's bluff on the 'why don't you just replace me' line instead)

but then we get to the Stolas Section and boy oh boy

Blitzo pulling his hand away at Ozzie's (totally reasonable because Stolas just hid his mug behind a menu out of shame) Stolas looking oh so sad and hurt when Blitzo tells him off at the end of Ozzie's (totally reasonable and DESERVED because this was when the deal was still in place and after a whole season of Stolas demeaning and using him for sex, culminating in him calling Blitzo his plaything. like the inclusion of his one probably ticked me off more than anything else honestly) Stolas offering the crystal (i.e. him doing the bare minimum to fix things) Stolas walking to his door all dejected in apology tour (right after he spent an entire argument gaslighting Blitzo and being his absolute worst, most selfish version of himself.) Stolas singing (a song where he admits Blitzo didn't mean to hurt him and HE was the one reading too much into things, while at a party he called petty and stupid all episode long) Stolas looking all sad and drunk, Stolas making out with some other guy (right after Blitzo tried to open up to him)

like I get this montage is directly in Blitzo's perspective and he's in a self-hating tailspin this episode so some of the shots could be explained as him beating himself up way too much. but after Apology Tour and basically all of s2 we're past the point I can give the show any plausible deniability about what it's doing

literally in every single Stolas example, the way Blitzo has behaved towards him makes complete sense - he wasn't unambiguously in the wrong in ANY of those examples.

Stolas doesn't have the guts to stand up for him, showing Blitzo he is just his sex toy after all? Then he has no reason to want to hold hands just to humor him Stolas doesn't correct Blitzo at all when Blitzo says 'YOU make it really clear that there's nothing between us except sex all the time' and just says 'OK' like he's agreeing he would totally try it on with Blitzo if he invited him in? Then why should Blitzo feel bad about driving off?? And don't even get me started with the idea that Blitzo should feel like he hurt Stolas in AT after Stolas had the nerve to say 'I expect you to prioritize getting my useless self out of trouble over being there for your daughter even though you still risked your employee's lives for me'. Frankly that convo alone makes it totally understandable for Blitzo to just cut him off for good.

putting it short, the Stolas section of the Blitzo hurts others montage should have been one scene long: the part where he steals the book. That's it. That's the only time he was unambiguously doing something malicious to hurt Stolas.

But anon, stolas was really saaad, so he’s in the right. Feel bad for him!!! His big eyes made a frowny face!

The ship is moving into “it’s all my fault I have to make up for it by giving him the love he said I was incapable of” territory.

When he admits he’ll stay away from MnM and only wants to focus on seeking out stolas from now on, because…..of “reasons” compelling him. He looks so defeated man.

A relationship where the burden of guilt and the constant highs of rewards and lows of punishments will be addicting but terrifying constantly. Blitz is obsessed with shouldering blame, stolas is obsessed with pushing blame onto others. It will always be that way.

Don’t forget we still have to deal with them getting together, then promptly breaking up because of Octavia, then a new bird enters the scene, then they get back together again or breakup again back and forth a few times, then post the vassago love triangle ending. And they have to address fizz at some point even though hes married to Ozzie pretty much already.

[fuyuu-chan]

Hi bestie! You told me to drop in so here I am. I'm gonna leave a request while I'm at it hehe Hope you don't mind.

Can I request a Neuvillette fic inspired by Taylor Swift's "Anti-Hero"? I particularly like the lyrics "Hi, it's me. I'm the problem, it's me. At teatime, everybody agrees." It gives me the vibes of a reader who is shunned by society, y'know? Perfect for some angst if I do say so myself 🫣🫢

Anyways, do whatever fits your vibe. I just love the way you write our dear Iudex 🥰 No pressure though! If it's too much, then just consider this as me dropping in to say hello to you and your lovely readers. Have a good day!!!

Love,

Mayaree

It's me. Hi. I'm the problem it's me :)

Fuyuu-chan: Hiiiii beshy hahahaha thanks for dropping in lol 😆🫶 also for being the first to request 😚

Pairing: Neuvillette x Reader

Summary: Everyone doesn't like you and thinks that you're not worthy for Neuvillette, and so they make fun of you, some even ignored you. By the way people in Fontaine treat you it makes you feel insecure and question your relationship with him.

Warning: Mention of break up, a bit of yandere ish at the end?? It might not look like it for some of y'all but just in caseee hehehehe (Not Proofread)

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

The moment everyone in Fontaine knew about your relationship with Neuvillette would probably the worst thing that happened in your life, because of what people think about you, for not being worthy as the Ludex beloved partner.

And the worst part is that Neuvillette didn't know about any of this, they only talk about it when you're the only one around, when you're not with him. You consider to tell it to him but of course you don't want to bother him, especially since he's busy with his duties as the Chief of Justice.

Now, you got invited to one tea party held by one lady that has been "kind" to you, so of course you accepted it... 'I shouldn't had my hopes up, of course she is gonna be like the others' you thought. Who would've thought that she would be like that? She appeared to be kind to you the first time you met but when with everyone, with her friends and some other ladies, she had just embarrassed you.

She told everyone that (name) is just a common girl, basic, and compared to Neuvillette she's not on his level. She even told everyone that "She's just a problem to our dear Ludex, only a burden for him" she chuckles and everyone at that tea party laughed agreeing to what she said.

Feeling embarrassed, angered, saddened, you just excused yourself saying you'll go to the restroom but after you left you never came back but one thing's for sure, everyone hated you, talked behind your back while laughing. You can't handle it anymore, everyone is insulting you and the fact that you may be ruining Neuvillette's reputation, you feel furious but at the same time what can you do? I mean they're all right aren't they? You're just a problem.

Because of everyone saying things about you, spreading rumours around Fontaine, it's hard for you to go outside because once you do people would look at you and whisper to each other.

Some even threatened you, saying you should stay away from Neuvillette or you'll regret it. You thought it's probably just his admirers that's going way too far, but to be honest it's already affecting your mental health.

Well you did distance yourself from him, like when he ask you out like go to dinner, or have some date you would decline saying you have something to do or you're currently busy. But let's be honest you really wanted to spend time with him. He was at first: "It's alright, next time we could go." But as time pass he was getting worried and confused as to why you were not seeing him anymore.

Always rejecting him. 'What happened?' He thought. You two aren't like this in the past, you two would even date every time there's a free time like after work or weekends. But why are you distancing yourself from him?

This thoughts always bother Neuvillette and the way you act. And now he found himself walking towards your house to talk to you and ask you.

Once he arrives, he knocked on your door. It took you minute to open the door which definitely isn't like you at all since you always open the door immediately when it comes to him (he have like a pattern when he knocks at your door so you know it's him).

You were about to ask him but he just got in your house and closed the door. Now you two are just standing looking at each other, the air seems tense.

"...so uhhh...why did you come here?" You said finally breaking the silence.

"Am I not allowed to come here anymore?" He asked.

"That's not what I meant, what I mean is what's the reason for your sudden visit here?" You clarified.

"It's about you...us...why are you distancing yourself from me? What happened?" He asked.

"What do you mean?... I'm just busy that's why I can't really spend time with you..." You trail off hesitating.

"Don't lie (name)..." He said as he looked at you worried.

"Did I do something wrong that makes you distance yourself from me? If I did I'm sorry... but please tell me so I can fix it." Neuvillette asked as he looked at you in the eyes.

"You?.." you asked as you scoffed a bit. "No it's... it's me Neuvillette, I'm the problem..." You continued as you try not to tear up in front of him.

You can see how Neuvillette's furrow his eyebrows as he heard you speak.

"What? You're not the problem (name), what are you talking about?" He asked as he stepped closer to you.

"So you still don't know?" You asked.

"What do you mean?" He looked at you confused on what you mean.

"People in Fontaine don't like me, they hate me the moment they knew about us, they said I'm not worthy...for you... I'm just a problem...and a burden for you" you said as your voice is starting to break, you didn't even notice that you were now crying remembering everyone's word, insults, threats.

Neuvillette was speechless the moment those words left your mouth. How could he not know about any of this? Did all of the people hurt you like this everyday? He thought that everything was alright but it turns out it's not, how could he let this things happen to you?

Neuvillette wanted to comfort you but when he was about to approach you, you step back and said "I think we should... separate ways, I don't want you to get ruined or people thinking bad things about you because of me" you said as you try to look at him.

He stood there, frozen in his place. He was processing your words inside his head. "W-what?..." He finally get to asked after a few minutes.

"We should break up" you said.

"...But why?"

"Because of me...I was causing you problems, I might ruin your reputation in the future and I don't want that" you answered as you finally looked at him teary eyed.

Neuvillette then approached you as he pulls you closer to him, he held you in his arms. "(Name) please...I don't want to break up with you...Besides you're never a problem, people is just jealous of you and that's why they did that. Besides you will never ruin my reputation because when you came into my life, you taught me how to understand people, how to be considerate and many more. My reputation became much better with you."

You lean on him while you tear up, even if you don't want to but his warmth that enveloped you, you missed it.

"B-but.." you stutter.

"Sshh..." He hummed as he pat your back in order to comfort you just like what you did when he was crying. "I'm sorry I didn't know any of this, I'm sorry you have to go through all of that alone, I'm sorry that I turned a blind eye...and I'm sorry that I'm not there when you needed me the most." He apologized.

After you calmed down you replied to him. "...It's not your fault...so don't apologize" you sniffled as you finally looked at him for him to only wipe your tears away. "No love...it's my fault too for not knowing any of this, for not seeing how much you suffer everyday."

You kept silent as you just let him comfort you. Eventually you found yourself apologizing "I'm...sorry Neuvi...for saying we should break...up".

Neuvillette only shake his head "Its alright... I know you dont mean it, you might had said it but at that moment I can see in your eyes that you do not mean those words" he said as he smiled gently at you. "But...I hope to not hear those words again...I must say my heart ache when those words left your mouth." He continued as he looked a bit sad.

"I'm..sorry, its just that...that was the one I thought would be better for us..for you" you said as you looked down only for Neuvillette to grab your chin gently to make you look at him.

"Its alright...you dont mean that anyways right?" He asked and you nod and that was enough for him to smile again. "It's those people that made you think that...I cannot believe they had the audacity to say those vile things to my beloved, to my partner, who I love dearly from the bottom of my heart. I serve them for so many decades, I protected them yet they return all those things I did with this?" he said as he tucked your loose hair behind your ear. "They didn't even repsect the person I chose to be with me forever" he looked so mad that he let these things happen but you hugged him to calm him down a bit.

"What are you gonna do?" You asked while you lean onto his chest, he reciprocated your hug as he wrapped his arms around you waist.

"Don't worry love...I will handle it all...you just rest here and relax while I fix these, alright?" Neuvillette said as he rubbed your back. "It would also be nice if we could leave Fontaine for a few days to have your mind forget this for a while, don't you think?" He asked as he looked at you.

You hummed and nod. "I guess that would help...but how about your work?" You asked as you now looked at him to meet his gaze on you.

"I'll take a few days off, I'm pretty sure the others could handle the court for a while. Especially since there's no big cases as of now." He explained and that's enough for you to relax a bit.

You finally smiled and that made Neuvillette happy, seeing you smile again made his heart finally calm down and his mind to finally rest. For now he let himself relax on your warm embrace and for later...he would deal with those people that dare hurt his beloved (name).

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you.

[doumadono]

Hello hello! I hope you’re having a good day🗣️❤️

I have a bit of an emergency request if u don’t mind.

I recently got surgery on my shoulder and the recovery has been… rough to say the least. I can’t lift my arm higher than 90 degrees and can’t pick up anything more than five pounds, this has made it where I’m unable to work which means I’m struggling to make ends meet. I have a lot of wonderful people in my life but I’m such an independent person that I have trouble asking for any help in any way, this has lead to me being in either a lot of pain while doing something I shouldn’t, or just absolutely defeated because I’m unable to do something as well as getting in multiple fights with friends and family bc of my stubbornness.

Anyways, could I have a shoto x fem reader where she’s kind of in a similar situation? Maybe like he lets her do things herself but only if it’s safe for her to do so and lets her know it’s okay to let people help her? I’m just really in a weird life phase rn and I’m trying to remain hopeful but it’s getting hard.

Anyways, I hope you have a lovely week❤️

-Jupiter<3

Learning to lean - Shoto x Reader

A/N: I’m very saddened to hear you’re going through this, but remember, it’s okay to ask for help. Your strength isn’t just in your independence, but also in knowing when to lean on others. This tough time will pass, and you'll come out even stronger on the other side. Stay hopeful and be kind to yourself!

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

You never thought something as simple as picking up a cup of tea could be such a monumental task. Your shoulder ached with every slight movement, a constant reminder of your surgery and the limitations it imposed. You gritted your teeth and tried to push through the pain, but the frustration was always lurking just beneath the surface.

The days since your surgery had been a whirlwind of pain, frustration, and a lot of sleepless nights. You hated feeling so helpless, unable to do even the simplest things without a sharp reminder of your injury. You were an independent person, always priding yourself on being able to handle things on your own. But now, everything had changed.

"Y/N, let me help you with that," Shoto's calm voice interrupted your struggle.

You glanced over at him, a pure stubbornness in your eyes. "I can do it myself," you muttered, not wanting to rely on anyone, not even your boyfriend.

Shoto walked over, his mismatched eyes filled with concern. "I know you can, but you don't have to do everything alone." He reached out, gently taking the cup from your trembling hand and setting it on the table.

A sigh escaped your lips, both from relief and frustration. "I hate this. I feel so useless."

Shoto crouched down beside you, his hand lightly touching your uninjured shoulder. "You're not useless, sweetie. You're recovering, and that's not something you have to do by yourself."

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. "But what if I never get better? What if I'm always like this?" You looked away, not wanting to meet his eyes. "And I don't want to be a burden."

He tilted your chin up, forcing you to face him. "You're never a burden to me, little one. And you will get better. It takes time, but you will. And even if it takes longer than we hope, it doesn't change how I feel about you. You're strong, and you've already come so far."

You bit your lip, tears welling up. "I just… I don't want to feel weak."

Shoto's expression softened, and he pulled you into a gentle hug, extremely mindful of your injury. "Asking for help doesn't make you weak. It makes you human. And I'm here for you, no matter what. You should know that by now, sweetie."

You leaned into him, allowing yourself to relax for the first time in what felt like ages. "Thank you, Sho."

He smiled, his warmth seeping into you. "Now, how about we tackle this together? You tell me what you need, and I'll be your hands when you can't use yours."

A small laugh bubbled up despite your tears. "Deal."

The next morning, you woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting through the air.

Shoto had insisted on staying over, just to make sure you were okay.

You protested at first of course, but now you were grateful for his presence.

You made your way to the kitchen, your shoulder protesting with every step.

Shoto was at the stove, his back to you, flipping pancakes with a practiced ease. "Good morning, princess," he greeted without turning around. "How did you sleep?"

"Better, thanks," you replied, taking a seat at the table. "You didn't have to do all this, you know."

He turned to face you, a little smile playing on his lips. "I wanted to. Besides, it's not every day I get to cook for someone I care about."

You blushed, making a loud awww sound. "Well, it smells amazing."

He brought a plate over to you, setting it down with a flourish. "Bon appétit."

As you struggled to cut your pancakes with one hand, Shoto quietly slid the plate over to his side and began cutting them into smaller pieces for you. "Here you go, Y/N," he said softly, sliding the plate back to you with a warm smile.

You dug in, savoring the delicious meal. As you ate, you couldn't help but watch Shoto.

He moved around your kitchen with such grace, his every action filled with a quiet determination. You marveled at how thoughtful he was, always anticipating your needs before you even voiced them.

After breakfast, Shoto suggested a short walk outside.

You hesitated, knowing how much effort it would take, but his gentle encouragement made you agree.

He stayed close by your side, matching his pace to yours, his presence a comforting reassurance.

As you walked, the two of you talked about everything and nothing.

You found yourself opening up to him in ways you never had before, sharing your fears and frustrations. "Sometimes, I just feel so angry," you admitted, your voice trembling. "Angry at myself for getting hurt, angry that I can't do the things I used to."

Shoto stopped walking and turned to face you, his eyes full of understanding. "It's okay to feel that way, Y/N. It's a natural part of the healing process. I'm here, right by your side, and you shouldn't hesitate to lean on me. You can fully rely on me, princess."

You nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks. "I know, but it's hard to ask for help."

"I understand. But remember, it's not a sign of weakness. It's a sign of strength, to know when you need support and to accept it."

Over the next few days, Shoto's presence became a comforting constant. He allowed you to do what you could, but was always around to step in when you needed him.

Slowly, you began to accept his help without feeling guilty.

One evening, as you struggled to reach a book on a high shelf, Shoto was there in an instant. "I've got it," he said, retrieving the book effortlessly.

You smiled up at him, no longer feeling the sting of inadequacy. "Thanks, Shoto."

He handed you the book, his eyes twinkling. "Anytime, Y/N."

That night, as you sat together on the couch, Shoto turned to you with a serious expression. "Y/N, there's something I've been wanting to tell you."

You looked at him, curiosity piqued. "What is it?"

He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I care about you a lot. More than I can put into words. Seeing you in pain, struggling, it hurts me too. I want to be there for you, not just now, but always."

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth flooding your chest. "Shoto, I… I care about you too. You've been my rock through all of this." Tears welled up in your eyes, but this time they were tears of happiness. "Thank you, Shoto. For everything."

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I love you."

"And I love you too," your voice was a soft whisper, gentle and warm like a summer breeze.

Shoto's love and support gave you the strength to keep going, to heal, and to embrace the future with hope.

[wayfayrr]

I see your human!reader and raise you: the Chain struggling to find food they can actually eat, reader feeling terrible and maybe a bit like a burden because of it, and getting into a dangerous situation in order to make it up to them

Source: the Owl House :)

I'm so sorry that this took so long to answer!! I've been quite busy recently but while I haven't watched the owl house I hope this does what you wanted justice, it got out of hand the more I wrote!!! I've heard it's great I just don't really watch shows :( Fair warning this got way more angsty then I planned for it too, with reader being pretty flippant about their own safety than they really should be, there's a brief not very detailed description of gore too. (it's also fairly wars centric towards the end)

[masterlist]

“[Name]! So wind and I’ve just been to the village right? I think I’ve finally found something I can cook that you should be able to eat! It was quite expensive but I’m sure it’ll be worth it for you!” 

“We looked around for ages, so if you can’t eat this then there might not be anything in Hyrule that you can eat!”

Wind means well with what he’s saying; I know that Wild does too, they don’t mean to make me feel bad - I think they don’t anyway. Not like they really need to try with how much of a burden to them I am. Buying expensive supplies just for me? When they’re already struggling to afford their own basic supplies, now I’m just adding unnecessary costs for them. Don’t get me started with the looks of pity they give me either. 

“Thank you both but, please don’t go spending so much on me.”

“But we have to find something you can eat, you’ll just be a… It’s not good for you to starve!”

That - that’s the closest any of them have gotten to saying it outright, they really do just see me as a burden - they aren’t even trying to hide it now. No wonder I’ve always been kept to the side in any fights, Hyrule can’t heal me so I’d just be deadweight if I got hurt, I can’t fight like they can really all I’m good for is as a meat shield to defend them from magic. “Hey [name], are you alright? You zoned out a bit there…”

“Oh, yeah I just - I think I just need to have some time alone if that’s alright? I’ll make sure to stay in distance of the camp.”

“As long as you’re careful and not there too long, I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll tell the others for you.”

I hope he doesn’t.

He seemed content with how I nodded at him, so I should be in the clear to go and just vanish for a while even if it’s just to pretend I’m not causing them issues for a little while.

It doesn’t feel like it takes me long to get to a nice place to sit, so it should still be pretty close to camp - not that they should be worried for me. Somewhere nice and open to sit next to a gentle babbling brook, it’s calm and I’m alone, everything I need at the moment.

Shit - how did I not see a sleeping lynel!? No no, not now I don’t even have a weapon! … What if I did kill it though - their parts can be sold for a fortune… I could pay my way and prove I’m not just useless. Even if I don’t - well they won’t have to worry about me in that case.

It hasn’t seemed to notice me yet, maybe there’s a chance I can come back from it. If I just stay low and as silent as I can then I should be able to jump it. 

Stay quiet, take its weapon. Wow, that’s a lot lighter than Wild makes it out to be. Now to just - Just go for its neck! I - I actually managed to slit its throat!

IT’S STILL ALIVE!?

Okay. OKAY! Its movements are sluggish and it seems to be bleeding out so just get away from it - 

Why - why can’t I feel my arm properly? Why is my shoulder so wet all of a -! The pain hit harder than a truck every nerve on my left side feels like it’s being set ablaze, there wasn’t a single hope of keeping in the scream I just let out, one I didn’t even realise had ripped its way from my throat. Tilting my head down to see the cause; suddenly my body feeling nothing but raw visceral pain suddenly makes a lot more sense than before. The stupid thing cut half through my shoulder with my arm now hanging limply by my side. 

“[NAME]! WHAT ARE YOU DOING - YOU’VE BEEN MISSING FOR HOURS - WHAT Did you - [name]!?”

Wars is here..? Didn’t Wild say I was going off for a bit? Why would he be looking for me? I can’t be worth so much that he’d go off on his own to look for me.

“Oh goddesses [name] what - no, no, no stay awake, you’ve got to stay with me darling.”

“‘m awake… ‘m - still ‘ere…”

Is that really what I sound like right now…  I sound so slurred… like - like how people on tv sounded when they were. Oh.

I’m bleeding out and delirious then, no wonder Wars is ‘here’, he’s just my brain giving me one last happy memory before I kick the bucket. Isn’t that wonderful, to spend my last moments hallucinating my unreciprocated crush caring for me. Closing my eyes feels all too easy, even when I’m about to drift off it still feels as if he’s holding me, maybe this won’t be too bad?

“[Name] don’t you DARE close your eyes, you - I’m not losing anyone else I care about - I can't lose you… I haven't even-”

A harsh slap to the face after a shaky breath - one that feels all too real - has me reconsidering things, the feeling of something tears dropping onto my face is the thing that finally has me opening my eyes despite how hard it is to do so. 

“I - I have some bandages, a potio- no that’s not going to help you I’ve got bandages I just need you to talk to me while I use them, so I know you aren’t close to passing out. You’re going to make it out of this - I need you to make it out of this.”

The agony of him adjusting my arm to bind it, well it’s proof that I am still very much alive. If he really wants me to talk… well then I might as well try to get some answers out of him.

“Why - why ‘re you - wh’ ‘d you come lookin’ fr me?”

“You - vanished for hours without a word, did you really think none of us would get worried? Even if none of the others would, I will always come for you.”

“Hm’ wild said he w’s gonna tell the rs’ o’ you… b’sides ‘m just a burden ‘nt I? Wil’ pretty muh said i’.”

“...Wild. but why would he risk - he wouldn’t put you in the… Don’t worry about what wild says he’s lying, you’re not a burden, even if you were. You’re one I would choose to carry every day for the rest of my life without a single regret. Don’t let what he says get to you, darling.”

Murderous, that’s the best way I could hope to describe the look on his face, it’s like he wants wild dead. His bandages seem to have stopped the bleeding though, so while I still feel lightheaded I should live as long as the wound doesn’t get infected. 

“Wai’ why’r you callin’ me darlin’? ‘M not - you’r…”

A little smirk crossed his face then barely lasting long enough for me to just notice it before it was replaced by concern, did I forget something, I mean it’s not impossible that I also hit my head right? Right?

“But you’re my partner, honeybee, we’ve been together for a few days now - you - you can’t have forgotten that right? If that’s the only price for you surviving, I mean we can always just make better memories. You - You’re still alive and that’s the most important thing.”

Well that’s not impossible, I know I’ve had feelings for him for a while so if he did ask I would’ve said yes…

“We can remake the memories later after you recover. You know I’m so glad that human blood flows slower than ours, those precious few extra seconds are literally lifesaving.”

He’s just babbling to himself now, must’ve been stressed over me; now that I’m safer it’s all just draining out of him. The way he’s clinging to me and shaking shows that fairly well too, like he doesn’t plan to let me out of his arms for a long while. 

“Please never do this ever again, I don’t even know what you were planning but you could’ve died [name], you could’ve died and I wouldn’t have had a chance to say goodbye. Please you have to explain why when you’re better. Please promise me you’ll tell me why.”

“I will Wars, I swear.”

“...That’s all I needed to hear, thank you darling.”

[the-offside-rule]

Patricio O' Ward (McLaren) - Back To December

Requested: yes

Swift Series

Warnings: I SOBBED WRITING THIS SHIT OKAY

Whilst the storm outside had destroyed everything in its path, the aroma inside the kitchen from Pato's cooking filled the air as he prepared a special meal for Y/N. The atmosphere seemed perfect, the warmth of his love was evident in every shared glance and tender smile. As Pato stirred a pot on the stove, Y/N gave a lighthearted smile, yet, her heart felt heavy, burdened by the weight of her own uncertainties.

Pato hummed a tune, his eyes bright with affection as he flipped the sizzling vegetables in the pan. "You know, Y/N, tonight's dish will be extra special." He remarked, his voice laced with adoration. Y/N forced a smile, her fingers toying with the edge of her sweater. She knew she couldn't delay any longer, couldn't ignore the growing rift within her own heart. Gathering her courage, she cleared her throat, her voice betraying the turmoil within. When she didn't give a cheeky remark like she usually did, Pato turned, his gaze searching her face, his heart already sensing the impending storm. "Is everything okay, amor?" He inquired, his concern palpable. "You seem....off."

Tears threatened to spill from Y/N's eyes as she met his gaze, the depths of her sorrow reflected in his own. "No, Pato, everything's not okay," she confessed, her voice trembling like a fragile whisper in the night. Confusion clouded Pato's features as he set aside the spatula, his attention solely on her. "What's wrong, Y/n? Please, tell me." He implored, his voice laced with urgency and fear as he turned the stove down to go to his girlfriend who was very clearly troubled and torn. Y/n's breath caught in her throat as she struggled to find the words, each syllable heavy with the weight of her decision. "I... I think we should break up." She confessed, her voice barely above a whisper, as though afraid to shatter the fragile illusion of their love.

The world seemed to stand still as Pato processed her words, his heart fracturing into a million shattered pieces. "But... why?" he choked out, his voice raw with pain, his eyes searching hers for a glimmer of hope.

Tears cascaded down Y/N's cheeks as she met his gaze, her heart breaking with each passing moment. "I just don't think it's working, Pato," she lied, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "Its just, this is too perfect, too beautiful to be real. And I can't do this. I don't deserve this." She sobbed. "Deserve what? Love? You deserve everything in the world and more. Amor, let's just talk about this. Can't we just, talk about it?" He reached for her face but she pulled away. "Please don't make this more difficult." Patricio had started crying now, although he hadn't noticed. Pato's world shattered as her words pierced his soul, the anguish in her voice echoing the turmoil within his own heart. "But Y/n, you are everything to me." He confessed, his voice trembling with unshed tears, his heart laid bare before her.

Y/N's resolve wavered as she watched the tears glisten in his eyes, her own heart breaking with each passing moment. "I know, Pato, I know," she whispered, her voice choked with sorrow. "But I have made my decision and hopefully one day you'll realize that I'm not enough, that our love is just a fleeting dream." Silence hung heavy in the air as Pato processed her words, his heart aching with the weight of her doubts. "Y/N, please. Please don't leave me." He pleaded, his voice raw with emotion, his eyes pleading for her to stay. Tears blurred Y/N's vision as she reached out, her fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek. "I'm sorry, Pato, I'm so sorry." She whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I have to do this, for both of us." His lips parted as a sigh left. "Y/n?" She turned to see him one last time, his once sweet eyes now turned red and puffy, his smile now replaced with sorrow. "It will always be you that has my heart."

The deafening roar of engines and the scent of burning rubber filled the air as Y/n navigated the bustling crowd at the IndyCar race. With an audacious plan in mind, she managed to slip past security and find herself in the exclusive paddock area. It had been a while she she had gone to a race given she had no reason to be one since her and Pato had broken up. As she strolled through the paddock, marveling at the sleek racing machines and the behind-the-scenes action, a stern security guard intercepted her path. The security guard eyed Y/n skeptically, before approaching her since she didn't have her pass dangling from her neck like every other guest. "Excuse me, ma'am. Mind if I have a look at your pass?" He asked. Y/n looked at him. "Why do you need my pass?" Y/n asked. "Just random routine. Making sure no one that isn't meant to be here is here. Now, your pass please."

Y/n reached into her bag, knowing very well there was no pass, before faking a shocked expression and frantically scopping different items around in her bag. "No, no, no. I don't have it!" Of course you don't, just make sure he doesn't know that! She thought to herself.

"No passes, no entry. You can't just stroll in without one." Y/n fidgeted. "I must've left it at home. Can't you just let me in this once?"The guard crossed his arms, unyielding. "Rules are rules. I can't make exceptions." Y/n sighed, feigning frustration, "Look, it's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! I won these tickets, and I can't believe I forgot the pass." The lies kept on coming but they weren't making this situation any better, and worse, the guard remained unmoved. "Nice try, but I've heard every excuse. I'll have to escort you out."

Just as Y/n felt her heart sink, a familiar voice rang out. "Excuse me, sir-" They both turned, both as equally shocked to be faced eith the face of Patricio O' Ward. Pato's protective instincts had surged to the surface and had approached the guard, his voice steady despite the rapid drumming of his heartbeat. "Is there a problem here?" He asked. The guard glanced at Pato, recognizing the driver but remaining unfazed by his presence. "Just ensuring the paddock remains secure, sir. This area is restricted." Pato's mind raced as he searched for a way to intervene without causing a scene. Then, a bold idea formed in his mind—a risky move, but one he felt compelled to make. "Hey, it's alright. She's with me." Y/n's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze flickering between Pato and the guard as she processed his unexpected declaration. The guard's expression softened slightly, though skepticism lingered in his eyes. "She is?" The guard asked, his tone tinged with skepticism. Pato nodded firmly, his resolve unwavering. "Absolutely. She's with me. She's my girlfriend, actually."

Y/n shot Pato a bewildered look, silently questioning his sudden proclamation. Yet, something in Pato's demeanor conveyed a sense of assurance that gave her pause. "My apologies, Mr O' Ward. You enjoy the rest of your weekend now." The guard stepped away, leaving just the two of them again. Pato, with a polite smile, led Y/n away from the scene. "Sorry about that. I didn't want you to get kicked out." He whispered. Y/n, surprised by the sudden claim, replied, "Your girlfriend, huh?"

He chuckled nervously. "I know, I know. I just didn't want them to hassle you. It's just for today." As they walked together, the tension between them was palpable. "How about you come and get food with me. Catch up?" Y/n nodded. "I'd like that." She smiled as Pato led her to the hospitality area for the drivers. Y/n couldn't help but miss this feeling. The feeling of having Pato around to protect her. She missed almost everything about him. The only thing she didn't miss was when he'd sleep on her side of the bed whilst she was in it, but even then, she missed it some nights.

As Pato sat down, he set down each of their plates, getting ready to tuck into his. Y/n coughed awkwardly, catching Pato's attention. "Oh, I didn't ask. You still like this food, right? I can go change it if you don't." He said, remembering a lot had probably changed since they had last seen eachother. "No, no. I still like it. Out of everything up there, I'd still pick this." She smiled, grabbing a fork and fidgeting with it. It grew quiet between them, which was never the case last time around. They'd always be joking or laughing, even listening to Pato rant about the previous session, but now it was awkward and whilst it was sweltering weather conditions, the air turned cold.

"It's been a while." She finally said, breaking the awkward silence. Pato smiled. "Yeah, it has. Life's been busy with racing and all." His eyes seemed different from when she last saw him. His skin was more tanned, his hair had changed, but his smile was just as sweet as the time she last saw him. "I've been busy with college. I still managed to travel a bit though." Pato nodded along mindlessly, still smiling at her. Y/n let out a sigh before she reached across the table for Pato's hand. "I've miss you, Pato. Things haven't been the same since we... since December." She admitted, her voice wavering. "I mean, yeah I've missed you too, I guess." He looked at her with a somber expression. "You guess? What exactly does that mean?" Her smile had dropped. All this hoping that he would get back with her had shrunk, and as he set his cutlery to the side and clenched his jaw, Y/n realised this was going to be the farthest thing from easy. "Y/n, I've been doing better I'm racing since we broke up. I just have more free time and Ive come to realise that racing is my focus now. I can't keep dwelling on the past." The conversation continued, unraveling the complexities of their feelings and the events that led to their breakup.

Y/n's eyes welled up with realization, understanding the chasm between them. "So what? Are you saying I was a distraction?" She asked. "Where in that sentence did I say that?" He asked. He never once argued with her, but now, after a year of unexplained heartbreak, he had to. "I'm reading between the lines." Pato shook his head, reaching for his water bottle. "You know, I would be able to just move on and not take it too personally, if you just told me why we broke up in the first place." He said. "I- Pato. I just wasn't feeling it." Was the best response she could come up with. "You weren't feeling it? That's- Y/n, it was a relationship, not a new album. You can't just say you're not feeling it and leave. You need to talk about it."

"Listen, if I could go back in time and change it I would." She said, her voice was trembling and she was dangerously close to tears. Whether they were from sadness or frustration, she didn't know. "You can't, though. Can you?" As they spoke, Y/n's slim hopes for a glimmer of reconciliation, a chance to rewrite the story had disintegrated completely. Yet, Pato remained firm in his decision to move forward without her. "Pato, I want you to be happy. That means even if I'm not with you, but-"

"Well, I am so just leave it." The engines roared in the background, mirroring the tumultuous emotions within Y/n. "Pato? The team is looking for you for the debrief." An engineer popped by. Pato chucked his napkin down on the table and lifted his plate. He looked at her with a cold-hearted face. "I wish you the best, Y/n, but it's time to let go." He said. "Enjoy the session." He added, as he walked away, leaving Y/n sitting alone, surrounded by the racing world that had become his priority.

She had less of him. She had none of him. Whilst she used to have good memories of Pato, she couldn't think of a single good one now that they had that talk. She even forgot what he done for her earlier. His words stuck with her. She didn't have his sweet smile, one of the only reassuring things she managed to come across in her life. She had made a mistake and a grave error in judgement and now she had to reep what she sewed.

[tcookies777]

Where I am now

Many of you have left such kind comments and sent me messages out of concern for my wellbeing. For that, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I also appreciate your patience as I understand it can be difficult to wait months for a chapter update on a long, tedious fic such as The Anatomy of Love. Your patience for this story is always sincerely appreciated.

I've been struggling for months to find the right words to say. To decide whether to express the ache in my heart or draw lines and stay silent. But while a part of me wishes to say little to nothing on the matter out of a sense of shame, the better part of me recognizes that conversations like the one I'm about to raise are something that needs to be discussed more. If only to raise awareness of the topic or help destigmatize it. If only to normalize issues like these. If only to just help someone else who might be going through a dark period in their life as well.

It's here that I'll give a final warning of the sensitive topics of this post. So feel free to turn away now if the topic of mental illness might be upsetting.

Trigger warning: suicide and mental illness

Ok, so here goes....

My sister committed suicide. I won't go into details of course, but it was not peaceful or quiet - it was violent, gruesome, and excruciatingly painful. So much so that the police thought it might've been a murder and harshly investigated us, making everything more difficult and traumatizing than it already was.

She had battled with depression for nearly 2 decades, deteriorating far beyond recognition. We had grown estranged over the years of my childhood because she pushed loved ones away, blaming them for the way she turned out but also still relying on them to survive. An awful cycle of codependency.

I myself have been battling with high-functioning depression for the past decade, which is one reason why I struggle to respond to people's messages. From readers, friends, and family alike. I, too, have an issue of pushing people away. Because I'm ashamed for them to see how broken my life is. Because I have seen the way people judge you for having a mental illness. I have witnessed friends, family, and even Healthcare workers gaze upon the mentally ill as if they are a sore sight.

To be honest, I understand both sides; it can also be frustrating to pool all your time, effort and resources into trying to help someone who does not want to be helped. It burns you out. That despite your efforts to fight for that person, they do not fight for themselves and you're forced to watch them deteriorate in a slow, agonizing process.

"At the beginning, you’ll do your best to shoulder all my burdens. At the beginning, you’ll be strong about it. But over time, you’ll come to regret it—you'll come to regret me, and the burden that I have become to you." — Kakashi, Chapter 30 of The Anatomy of Love

On the other side, it's hard to take that step to accept the help offered to you. It's hard to find the strength to meet your loved ones halfway and help them to help you when you hardly have the strength to even get out of bed. Yet, you also feel guilty because it feels as if you are just dragging down those around you.

These are the feelings Kakashi expresses to Sakura in Chapter 30, when he tries to explain the reasons why they cannot and should not pursue a relationship. Guilt and self-loathing are the feelings that have been eating me up inside for years, as they ate at my sister as well.

We were born from a loveless, violent marriage. So we didn't know how to love each other, though we did whether we wanted to or not. Likely it was the trauma that bonded us. But put together, my sister and I were oil and water. Loving someone who is your family but is practically a stranger to you is incredibly difficult and taxing.

Yet, I understood completely. You just don't know how to show love to someone when you were never given love.

But despite my estrangement from my sister, I still love her. Being a 1st generation American often means you have nothing but your family. When you have no house, no savings, no relatives to turn to - just your immediate family - it can be a toxic, tough love where you have only that person whether you like them or not. And in Asian culture, family is especially everything even when it's completely dysfunctional.

So why am I updating TAOL now?

It's mostly for myself. Because it's my own comfort fic that allows me to engage in therapeutic writing. It's a story of loneliness and love of all forms (romantic, sexual, familial, etc). More importantly, it's a story about finding family, finding love, and finding home. Something that I've yearned for all my life.

And it's a story of pursuing happiness even when you think you don't deserve it. It's a story that shows good coping mechanisms and bad coping mechanisms and their consequences. It's a story of picking yourself up by the bootstraps even when you just want to sit and wallow in despair. And it's also a story of embracing the love of those around you and taking their hands when they reach out to you and offer their support.

At its core, The Anatomy of Love is a story about fighting loneliness, self-hatred, guilt, and mental illness with love. With the love of friends and family. And with the love for yourself. Because while it's important to have a strong support system to love and look out for you, it is just as important to love yourself and really put in the effort to take care of yourself. And sometimes that means being ""selfish"" and prioritizing yourself over others.

Why am I saying all this?

I'll admit, I'm uncomfortable revealing the skeletons in my closet to strangers online where everyone can judge and share my secrets. I'm embarrassed to admit that TAOL's themes are projections of my own desires, and for people to know that I write about such things in fanfic because of the fact that I don't have them. But I'm just too insecure to talk to anyone 1 on 1. Not to mention that, unfortunately, it's not that simple to just go to therapy (especially when the healthcare system is broke here).

Most importantly, I hope that if there's anyone out there reading this and going through a shitty point in their lives as well... I hope you are able to take comfort in the fact that you are not alone in this. We individually have our own demons to fight, but we're all fighting the same battle.

I wish I could say it gets better, but there's honestly no guarantee. So many times, I've had to stop myself from telling patients "things'll get better" because that's a promise that we're taught never to make. The truth is no one knows if things really do get better. Personally, I haven't been feeling better at all. For most of my life, people have been telling me it gets better and to just be patient, but every year it actually gets worse and worse. And just when you think things are starting to look up, it instead gets even more worse.

It's tiresome waiting years for things to get better when it seems it's nowhere in sight.

But I'm trying my best to take it day by day. I do my best to get out of bed, go to work, take a proper shower, feed myself. I do my best to love myself - mostly out of fear that what little family I have will one day disappear and I will have no one left to love me. No one but myself.

But sometimes my best does not feel enough. Sometimes I hate myself more days than others.

That's okay, I tell myself. I hate myself today, but I will love myself tomorrow. I will forgive myself eventually. I can be happy eventually. One day at a time.

Because on my better days, I realize that not every person can afford to wait for things to get better. You have to be the one to take the initiative - get off your ass and take that step forward and make things better yourself. All the people around you can offer you all the help that you need, but the most important thing is that YOU have to want to help yourself.

So that's all I am able to say for now. I do apologize if my thoughts are a bit discombobulated. I am still struggling to find my feet when it feels like I'm still drowning under pounding waves of darkness. If you've read this far, I appreciate you taking the time to read this.

Meanwhile, I hope you guys can continue to enjoy reading The Anatomy of Love. The chapter is not entirely to my satisfaction due to the last minute revisions I made, but I wanted a sprinkle of happiness in the moment. I think that's something we all need.

Also, thank you for the messages you have sent me and the comments you left. I'm truly sorry I do not have the courage or strength to respond, but please know I am forever grateful and touched that people would reach out to a stranger like me.

Hope to see you soon,

TCOOKIES

[kamidukki]

[AKNK] Berrien’s Daily Life Memories [BOX vol. 2]

The greatest enemy

L-look, Mr. Bug… I’ve opened the window for you, see?

Since you’re kind… you’ll get out, right…?

(bug’s noises)

Ugh… I beg you, please get out already….

Ah…! Don’t jump onto my pillow!

Gh… seems like I have no other choice.

…Do you understand, Mr. Bug? Please stay still just like that… Now, to lift up the pillow… Slowly, slowly…

…Hya!

Fuh… Somehow, I managed to drive it out by myself. If others were to see this, I won’t be able to live it down…

A…! Another bug just flied in…!

(bug’s noises)

And there are two of them now… Ugh…

…It can’t be helped. As I thought, I must ask for help…

A prayer for the dead

What a beautiful moonlit night. On such a quiet night, I can't help but pray for our fallen comrades, that their souls may rest in peace...

Some devil butlers lost their lives in battle with angels and I were unable to see their last moment... But some of died peacefully in my arms.

There is not a day that I do not have everyone in my thoughts.

May you rest in peace, for I will never forget about you.

It is a burden that I will continue to carry with me.*

That’s why… Please lend us your strength, one that will allow us defeat angels and protect the Master…

[*This line will probably make more sense if you're up to date with the main episode, which revealed information about Berrien's demon power]

The worst nightmare

U… ugh… Gh… No, please don’t go away, Master…

…Ha!

Was that… a dream?

Hh… What a terrifying dream…

It has happened many times before, but nothing as frightening as this...

Master... who I finally got to meet and who means the world to me... and the only person I can't lose.

Ugh… Master, please come back to the manor soon… And let my heart be at ease with that smile of yours.

Beyond the fight

Fuh… Ha!

I have become much more adept with the spear myself. I miss the time when I first picked up this spear.

I couldn't handle it well... I had to train hard before I could fight with it.

Now I can handle it as if it were a part of me... I guess I should be happy... In a world full of battles like this, if we don't fight... we won't be able to protect people from the attack of the angels... or protect our precious Master...

Phew. I hope the world soon becomes one where we don't have to deal with weapons.

When that time comes, I would be able to spend more time with the Master... peacefully.

Silence and solitude

Hmm...

The manor is very quiet today.

The Master hasn't returned and all the other butlers are out on errands.

It's been a long time since it's been this quiet. Too quiet that I feel uneasy.

This won’t do...

Loneliness is a heavy thing one one’s heart...

At times like this... it's best to get down to work.

Yes, that's right. I shall go down to the basement and continue my research on the angels...

On reading the diary

Hmmm...

It's fun to reread old diaries like this.

This date was probably around the time... when Lono-kun and Bastien-kun first came to the manor.

Yes, that's right. At first they didn't know how to interact with each other and it was very awkward.

A lot has happened since then... They've overcome a lot of things and now they're much more open.

We are like a family now...

Hmm?

Oh yes ♪

This is what happened that day... ♪

Shall I tell them both about it tonight? They'll probably be embarrassed, but...

Hmm ♪

Once in a while, it's not so bad to reminisce... ♪

The rumoured new master

(When I had just arrived at the manor...)

Hmph... Today is a very happy day for me. Since I got to welcome the new master to the manor.

The Master looks like a very nice person, don’t they?

From now on, I will be able to serve them. I am really looking forward to it.

At the same time... I have to be more determined than ever.

I have to protect the Master no matter what...

That's the reason for my existence after all.

The sharp gaze

One day, when I returned to the manor... Berrien was focused on something.

Hmm...

An angel who appeared recently is behaving in a way never-seen-before...

I wonder what could be the cause... I must investigate further...

...He seems to be researching and thinking about angels.

The look on his face when he concentrates... his eyes are so serious it makes you forget how calm he usually is. A serious expression that I rarely see... I forgot to call out to him and just stared at his profile.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Note: part 4 of the Abandoned fic. part 1 - part 2 - part 3. This was supposed to be a short fluff chapter, I have failed.

Warnings: all the angst.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

Summary: A week has passed since you arrived in Coccham with Sihtric. And life wasn't easy. Because how can two damaged people love each other, when they both fear to be abandoned by the other?

Word count: 1,5k 

Masterlist

'Stop running away from me when we talk about this.'

****************

Sihtric was taller than you. And he always, mindlessly, put the herbs back where he kept them; the top shelf in the kitchen. And once again, you just couldn't reach. You knew you should have just asked Sihtric to stop placing the jars that high, but you didn't want to be a bother. You were, afterall, a guest in his home. 

So you stood up on your tiptoes, trying to reach some herbs, without any luck. So you once again decided to climb up on the wooden counter, like you had done every day already, and so you finally reached up to the high shelf and grabbed a jar. 

Sihtric walked out of the bedroom and found you up on the kitchen counter, just as you were trying to climb down again. 

'Hey, what are you doing?' Sihtric asked, startling you.

You slipped, yelped, and felt yourself fall down before your foot reached the ground. But Sihtric was quick to run over and caught you just in time.

'What are you doing?' he asked again, concerned as he put you down on your feet, 'what were you thinking? You could've hurt yourself.'

'I just wanted to make some tea,' you said, avoiding his eyes as if you got caught doing something you weren't allowed to. Something Sihtric noticed you did a lot when he asked you something, as if you felt you weren't allowed to speak. 

Sihtric frowned and looked up at the shelf.

'You always put the herbs out of reach,' you whispered, 'I've been climbing on the counter ever since I got here…'

Sihtric sighed and felt a smile curl onto his lips as he looked at you. He loved your stubbornness and your determination to be independent, but he also felt it would give him a heart attack one day.

'But then why didn't you say so, angel?' 

He grabbed the remaining jars off the top shelf and placed them onto the lowest shelf.

'See how easily it's fixed?' Sihtric smiled and took your hand, pulling you closer and he cupped your cheeks, 'if you need anything, all you have to do is ask. Don't be afraid to ask for something, okay?' he nuzzled your nose softly and pecked your lips. Which caused that heavy rush of butterflies to appear again.

'I know… I just… nevermind,' you said and smiled weakly, 'thank you, Sihtric.'

'No, what is it? Tell me…'

You've been struggling to adjust to your life with Sihtric, but you didn't want to tell him, because he had been so kind to you. Helping you out with everything, making sure you were eating and drinking throughout the day, looking after you and simply just taking care of you. Which Sihtric loved, but you weren't used to being loved by someone, if that was what this was even, you weren't sure. You didn't know what it felt like. You only knew you wanted to be close to him, and your body would heat up each time you touched him, but your religion still followed you around like a dark cloud, telling you to stay away from him after you had gotten too close.

You sighed and averted your eyes, 'I feel I am a burden. This is not my home…'

Sihtric took your hands and pulled you with him, to the centre of his home and he spun you around, circling his arms around you from behind as he leaned his face against yours.

'Listen to me,' he whispered in your ear, sternly but lovingly, 'and look around you. This is your home, this is our home. Whatever you need, I will provide for you, but have to ask me, my love-' Sihtric abruptly stopped talking.

My love. The words had spilled from his lips so easily, it didn't even feel foreign to him. Sihtric had considered you his love ever since that first night you slept in his arms, in the woods, after he had saved your life at the monastery, but he had never said it. 

Sihtric had only shown hints of his love by holding you in his arms, by kissing you and by staying close by your side. But he worried he would scare you off eventually, he was still a Dane first and foremost, as well as a warrior and a pagan. He was always afraid you would still choose your God over him, and leave in the dead of night, without a word, to god knows where.

But Sihtric loved you, yet he didn't want to cross a line. You did sleep together in one bed, and you cuddled and sometimes still kissed, but you refrained from it most of the time. Fearing that your God, who abandoned you once before, would punish you regardless, and feeling that you are a disappointment to those you loved who raised you in the nunnery, by sharing a bed and sharing kisses with a pagan and a Dane, even if you loved him. At least, you thought this was love.

It wasn't easy for Sihtric, sleeping next to you and not being able to love you the way he so desperately wanted, but he was patient and never pressured you. He knew your life had been nothing like his. And he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, in case you didn't fully feel the same way about him, despite showing affection. Yet here he was, calling you "his love" by accident.

You turned to face him, and gave him a questioning look with your big eyes.

'Am I… y-your… your love?'

It was now or never, Sihtric thought, if you were to leave him once he'd tell you his feelings, it better be soon and not later.

'You are,' he confessed, taking your hands, 'I love you.'

He pressed a soft kiss on your hands and looked into your eyes. 'I truly love you, with all my heart. And I wish to marry you.'

'To marry me?' you gasped, pulling your hands away and you took a step back, 'but why?'

'Because I love you, angel, don't you understand?' he asked, hurt showing in his eyes.

'But why?' you asked again, confused, 'I have nothing to give, except to be a bother-' 

'You give me happiness,' Sihtric interrupted you, 'and purpose. You…You've made my life so much nicer ever since you've been here. You were meant to be here, with me.'

'No,' you said bitterly, 'I'm only here because you pity me and couldn't leave me on my own after the slaughter.'

'That is not true,' Sihtric retorted, and he took your hands when he saw you wanted to run away again, 'no!' he raised his voice a little, 'stop running away from me when we talk about this.'

'I don't want to be here!' you cried, 'I don't want to be with you… I want to go home!'

'What do you mean?' Sihtric felt his heart break in his chest as he became dizzy. 

'What do you mean by that?' he asked when you didn't answer. 

You avoided his eyes again and looked at your feet. You had no answer, because you didn't know what home you meant, because you had no home. You just didn't feel like you deserved him, and your biggest fear was probably telling him the truth. That you do love him, and that you do want to be with him, but you were afraid he would end up leaving you too. Abandoning you, just like everyone else had done before him. And you knew you wouldn't be able to handle that, so you figured it was best to try and ignore your feelings, so maybe those feelings would abandon you eventually.

But Sihtric didn't need an answer, he heard his answer in your silence.

'If…' Sihtric swallowed hard and let go of your hands, 'if you do not wish to be with me,' he said softly, 'then you are free to leave.'

'I wish to leave,' you lied through your tears, not knowing how to accept his love or how to return it.

Sihtric exhaled sharply, fighting his own tears as he nodded.

'I know. I understand,' he whispered, 'I would leave me too if I could.'

You stared at each other. Hurt, heartbroken and scared. And Sihtric knew he was about to hurt you even more, but he had to tell you the news.

'If you wish,' Sihtric said as he grabbed his cloak and headed to the door, 'you can stay here a little longer. I will be leaving at dawn, for battle… I don't know if I will return.'

You scoffed, tears falling down your face, onto the floor.

'I was wondering how long it would take,' you said, bitterness filling your voice to hide the fact you were terrified of losing him.

'How long what would take?' Sihtric clenched his jaw as he stood in the open door.

'Before you would abandon me.'

'I never wanted this,' he said, 'but it is my duty to fight.'

'You are a warrior,' you snapped, 'you wanted this. You love to kill.'

'Yes,' he said, hurting, 'I do love to kill.'

'You will always be a Dane,' you sniffled.

'And I will always love you, angel,' Sihtric said, before he closed the door behind him, 'whatever happens to me.'

**************

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[avacoleman]

all i wanted (was you) || a firstprince fic

summary: It’s been nearly a decade since exes Henry and Alex have last seen or heard from each other. After one unexpected night of reuniting thanks to the meddling of their mutual friend, the pair find that neither time nor circumstance can stop their flame from rekindling. With the complications of Henry’s marriage to another man and his scheduled return to London looming, the two must navigate life’s difficulties as they grapple with what a possible future could mean for them.

chapter 4/9 || rated e || read on ao3 || listen to the playlist

Alex stares at his phone as if he can somehow will the device to flash with Henry’s name across the screen. He hasn’t heard a word from him since last night. He knows all too well how avoidant Henry can become when he feels too overwhelmed by life. As it stands now, Henry has essentially blown up his whole world. 

Alex tried to give Henry grace, allowing the morning and the early afternoon to go by. But Alex’s own insecurities have now begun to bubble up and take shape. He gives Henry two calls that go unanswered. It’s not surprising, but it stings nonetheless. 

He avoids his own bedroom all day. The memories are far too fresh. He feels as if he’s in limbo, suspended in some strange space where time and reality are meaningless. Without hearing from Henry, without knowing where they stand, he feels unmoored.

He tries to contact Henry again, firing off an embarrassing series of texts but he figures if he’s speaking into the void anyway, what difference does it make?

Alex are you ghosting me?

Alex so…we’re just gonna never talk again? we did that for 8 yrs remember? it sucked. would rather not go back to that if it’s all the same to you, thanks 

Alex im staying home this evening, just in case you change your mind and wanna come by or whatever 

Alex fuck, alright this is officially pathetic on my part so i’ll stop texting. just know i'm here if you want to talk

Alex i *really* hope you wanna at least talk. don't go dark on me yet. pls? talk to me first. you pinky promised that it wouldn’t be like the last time. is nothing sacred anymore? but seriously, hen, i want us to at least be okay. pls let me know if we’re alright

An hour later, there’s a knock at the door and Alex’s heart leaps to his throat. Two visits in as many days should be exciting, but Alex has no real clue what awaits him so he anticipates the worst.

He gets up and crosses the living room to answer the door, taking a second to brace himself.

He opens the door to find Henry on the other side, his eyes distant and red rimmed. This is the reaction Alex has been dreading most. He already knows where this is going to go.

He steps back, letting Henry in without either of them greeting each other. Alex suddenly feels itchy, dirty even. He takes a seat on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest.

“You regret last night,” Alex says, not as a question.

Henry runs a hand through his hair as he sits on the opposite end of the couch. He looks exhausted.

“No, I don’t. And that’s the problem.”

Alex perks up in spite of himself.

“But you didn’t do—“

“Anything wrong?” Henry concludes incredulously with a humorless laugh. He shakes his head and looks away, blinking twice as he takes a breath.

His shoulders are raised and Alex wants nothing more than to ease the tension out of him, to free him of the burden or at least carry some of the weight so Henry doesn’t have to suffer it alone.

Tentatively he shifts closer to sit beside Henry, keeping a respectable distance but settling close enough.

“We kissed. We had sex. That makes me a liar and a cheater. And worse yet, I’ve made you an accomplice in all of this and for what? My own selfishness and greed?”

“You can’t help how you feel.”

“That’s no excuse. I should be able to manage some shred of self-control, some modicum of restraint. I’m not a child who doesn’t know better. I’m a man who saw what he wanted and simply couldn’t have cared less about the consequences. And that? That makes me a monster.”

“Stop it. Don’t talk about yourself like that. I can’t stand it.”

Alex fiddles with his hands, his breathing heavy.

“If anything, I’m the monster here. I see what it’s doing to you and yet I can’t stop. I don’t want to.”

Henry’s eyes find his.

“This can’t be what you truly want.”

Alex bites his bottom lip.

“I just want you. In whatever way I can have you. The how doesn’t matter nearly as much as it probably should.”

Henry buries his face in his hands and he looks to Alex like Atlas carrying the weight of the world.

“Bloody hell, what are we doing? This is all so messed up. I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so unbelievably sorry.”

Alex’s face falls. He reaches out to touch him.

“Baby, don’t be. It’s okay.”

Henry’s jerks away and gets on his feet.

“It’s anything but okay. Don’t excuse me. My God, Alex. You should hate me, loathe me for what I’m putting you through.”

“Well, I don’t and I never have. So now what?” Alex challenges. “You’re always going to be it for me. I will never stop wanting you.”

Henry looks at him incredulously.

“How can you even say that? You’ve given me too much power here.”

“I love you. That’s all there is to it.”

Henry blinks back tears and shakes his head, taking another step backwards.

“I should go.”

The words are like a freight train through Alex’s heart, especially after his admission.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, his voice suddenly small in his own ears.

Henry’s face softens at once.

“No,” Henry says gently. “Darling, no, you haven’t. I’m at fault here. I’ve made an absolute mess of everything. I’m hurting everyone and I just—,” he stops short, pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment before lowering his hand.

“I don’t want to put you in this position. It isn’t fair. I am… clearly going through something right now and I will not drag you down further with me while I try to figure it out. You deserve so much better than this. You’re a good man. A good and truly decent person and I–.”

Henry swallows hard, his eyes welling with tears again.

“I do hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me for what I’ve done. I know I won’t ever deserve it after what I’ve put you through— not only once but twice. I can’t keep breaking your heart. I won’t.”

Fear seeps into every cell of Alex’s body.

“Stay. Please, Henry. Just stay the night.”

Henry frowns, looking deeply apologetic.

“I don’t think that’d be wise.”

“I promise nothing will happen. You are not okay right now. I don’t want you to be alone.” 

The other truth is that Alex doesn’t want to be by himself and Henry has been wandering dangerously close to a permanent goodbye.

Alex gets up and drifts towards him slowly.

“Stay. It’s okay.”

Henry looks so lost, it shatters Alex’s heart. He keeps coming toward Henry until he’s near enough that he can drape his arms over Henry’s shoulders. He pulls Henry in for a hug, his fingers combing through his golden blond hair.

He feels Henry sag against him, his body relaxing more the longer Alex coddles him. Alex leaves a barely-there kiss at Henry’s temple before he gently guides him to his bedroom.

It’s such a stark contrast to the day before. Where they’d been frenzied and hungry for each other yesterday, there’s a somber seriousness here today that makes Alex feel like crawling out of his skin to be free of it.

They both get into bed, Henry settling on one side, staying on his back. His voice is solemn as he speaks.

“Nothing can happen tonight.”

“I know. I promise,” Alex says quietly. “Can I at least hold you?” 

It feels like such a gamble to even ask, but if Alex can just have Henry in his arms, maybe it’ll reassure him that Henry won’t just up and disappear.

Henry turns his head slightly enough to look at Alex’s face as he nods.

“Yeah. That’d be alright.”

Henry turns on his side and Alex doesn’t hesitate. He wraps an arm around Henry and comes in closer, letting his chest press squarely against Henry’s back, his chin resting on the man’s shoulder. Henry breathes out softly through his nose and Alex can picture the contented look on his face. It no doubt matches the one on Alex’s as their bodies relax, their breathing falling into sync.

In all honesty, this moment now feels even more intimate than last night.

He burrows his face into the side of Henry’s neck, feeling Henry’s pulse quicken. Alex fights off the urge to kiss him in the spot behind his ear but it’s a near thing.

Instead he simply closes his eyes and softly breathes Henry in, holding on tight until sleep finds them both.

[blue-jisungs]

the only reason

warnings. couple of swears, alcohol mention

your leg bouncing up and down caused the whole table to shake, drawing judging looks from other people (staff included). taking a deep sigh you tried to calm yourself, including the shaking of your hands and animalistic alike beat of your heart. it didn’t help. you tapped the screen of your phone again, a lump forming in your throat when you saw it. 11:30am. he should be there any minute. why did you even agree on this?

yeonjun and you broke up. almost five months ago. so long have passed but… you didn’t fully part ways. both of you seemed not to recover, yearning each other. drunk calls, bumping into each other’s friends, still liking each other’s posts.

that’s why when a week ago yeonjun called you, clearly drunk and sobbed into the phone, begging you to meet up with him… you agreed. you didn’t know why, your friends wanted to beat you up but your heart’s desire was stronger.

so here you were, at a cafe nearby your place where you used to hang out. you were nervous and it only hit you once you were waiting impatiently for your ex to arrive. why did he want to meet? do you surely want to get back together with him? you loved him dearly but the reason of your breakup was his work… did he change it? will he be willing to? is he expecting you’ll do something about it? besides, you haven’t seen him in person ever since. that made you anxious as well. is he a wrack of a human, just like you?

the door suddenly opened and he came in. distress all over his face as he scanned through the room to see if you’re here. the way his features softened immediately upon noticing you caused a sting in your heart, knowing you’re all done for.

yeonjun sat down, a tender smile on his lip.

“hi” he breathed out, scanning your features as if he didn’t see you for ages. you gulped shyly, pushing closer a glass of iced americano with a little bit of vanilla syrup.

“hi… i ordered already, hope you don’t mind” you mumbled. yeonjun’s heart skipped a beat, fighting his urge to grin. you ordered his favourite… you still remembered.

“no, not at all. thank you…” his voice died out, preventing himself from adding baby at the end of the sentence “so… how have you been?”

you gulp again, a tender smile on your lips.

“good” you nod, reaching for your drink.

for the past two years of dating yeonjun, you got to know each other like the back of your own hand. normally, you’d consider it as a good thing but now… now you two know you’re lying.

“listen i… i’ve been thinking” yeonjun blurted out. you wiped your sweaty palms against your legs underneath the table, heart skipping a beat “looking for a straight line, taking back the time we can't replace… tell me, was it even worth it?”

you frown, shaking your head.

“what do you–“ you start and as you put back your hands on the table, he grabs your left hand.

“don't talk, let me think it over… how we gonna fix this? how we gonna undo all the pain?” he asks quietly, guilt in his eyes “i know it was my own fault but please… you’re the only reason why i… why i am who i am, why i am where i am… right now”

“it seems… we just can’t stay away from each other, can we?” you scoffed helplessly, a small smile on your lips. a heavy burden was taken off your heart: he wanted the same. but are you ready? to put yourself on the risk of possibly being hurt again? the last couple months with yeonjun before you broke off we’re nothing but filled with pain. but…

“i can’t help but have an attraction towards you” he let out a quiet chuckle and all you could do is mirror his action.

god, you missed his laugh so much.

“i know that bitter words were spoken and everything is broken but… it’s never too late to bring us back to life” he hummed, hope sparkling in his eyes.

you let out a deep sigh when you realised another fifteen minutes passed by. the waiter gave you an apologetic look before approaching you.

“i uh… i’ll pay now” you smiled weakly. during the hour and forty five minutes of waiting you ordered a dish so it didn’t look like you were stood up.

after paying you stormed out of the restaurant, your cheeks burning with embarrassment and your eyes watering. you dialed your boyfriend’s number for the twelfth time that night and honestly, weren’t expecting him to pick up. but…

“what do you want, y/n?” his voice was filled with venom, your heart stinging at the sound of it.

“what do i want? well, maybe a better boyfriend” you grunted, sitting at a nearby bench.

“cut the bullshit, i don’t have time for this. and i’m certainly not in the mood” he grunted and you heard some voices in the background. was it… his friends’ voices?

“choi yeonjun, i’ve been waiting for you for almost two hours. where are you?” you asked coldly. he fell quiet “because certainly not at the restaurant where we were supposed to meet for a date”

“listen, i…” yeonjun let out a deep sigh, the voices on his side becoming quiet.

“you forgot? that’s normal, huh? and what are you doing? you’re with your friends right now?” you couldn’t help but ask. it wasn’t the best thing to say but anger was rushing through your veins and your mind was thinking rationally.

“and what if i am? for god’s sake! okay, i forgot but i had some free time and wanted to spend it with my friends, is it that bad? it’s just a stupid date, y/n!” he bursted out, leaving your speechless.

“i see…” you murmured quietly after a moment, trying your best to prevent your tears from spilling out of your eyes “it’s nice to know that you still choose your friends over me. especially that we set a date beforehand. and it wasn’t ‘just a date’, yeonjun. it was our anniversary date”

he fell silent.

“before you say anything else… we’re done. i can’t do this anymore. you put everything else before me, then you get it out on me. it’s exhausting” you said slowly “i’ll pack my things today. don’t bother coming home early. wait, you never do… so i guess it’s not a problem for you”

and with that you hung up, breaking down. on a bench in the park.

“i don’t know if it isn’t too late, yeonjun… but… why?” you asked quietly. his thumb started brushing your hand soothingly.

“i… even though my dizzy head is numb, i swear my heart is never givin' up. when i close my eyes and try to sleep i fall apart, i find it hard to breathe” he mumbled, eyes becoming glossy. the pure pain in yeonjun’s voice made you realise that you felt the same, it was hard to fall asleep without him next to you “i feel you burning under my skin, i swear i see you shinin' brighter than the flame inside your eyes”

you let out a shaky breath.

“you’re the only reason” he said, his gaze focused on you. you leaned over and wiped the tear that rolled down his cheek and yeonjun just melted into your tender touch “the only reason why i kept going. and i realised that only after i fucked up. i’m so, so sorry. for everything i said and i did. i know i hurt you and i’ll understand if you don’t forgive me”

you sat back down and bit the inside of your cheek in thought. you missed him like a crazy, you still loved him. but did he truly change? won’t you get hurt again?

you made your mind. and then you spoke out the words…

txt masterlist | event masterlist

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[say-hwaet]

If I Had to Do it All Again

Chapter Six: Eyes Like Mine Next Chapter: Seven Summary: Arthur makes a trip into town, hoping to help alleviate some of Eliza's burdens and we also get a taste of Eliza' and Arthur's shared past... Warnings: Mature themes, language, spice, MDNI Word Count: ~13,500 A/N: I want to preface this with the note that I am using parts from my headcanon fanfic "Red Dead Revelation: A Good Thing" for the flashbacks. Granted the POV is altered and it has more detail and moments that weren't in the story, but I just couldn't help myself. I just love the story and I can't bring myself to reimagine Eliza and Arthur's relationship and how it was formed, etc. There's also quite a bit of spice up in here. As for the scene where Arthur and Eliza are intimate for the first time, I thought about continuing it, but I think it's nice where it ended. Would you rather have had me keep going? Let me know your thoughts!

There she is, Arthur thinks to himself. Just as fresh and brown-eyed as he last saw you. You’re calmer, but still anxious as before, your eyes focused on the path in front of you, not even realizing he has been leaning against the hitching post by the sheriff’s office. You just stepped out from the mercantile empty-handed, coming out as quickly as you went in. 

A gust of icy wind comes up, blowing your worn scarf right off your neck. “Not again…!” you groan and nearly bump into a man as you chase after it. 

Arthur feels a warmth in his belly. He never thought he’d be this excited to see you. You were a sweet, young, curious creature. A beautiful girl who interested him. You made him feel like a hero after he rescued you and it felt good to feel important after the sick blow to his heart a couple of years ago. It was about time someone noticed him, saw something different in him. 

But you didn’t know. You didn’t know that he is a wanted man. An outlaw. A vagabond. 

And that was the reason he had to leave.

He wanted to give you a proper goodbye. He wasn’t sure he could promise to see you again, but if he could have left you with a kiss, more for his memory than for yours, maybe you’d come to forgive him and maybe forget him. 

But even after a year, he couldn’t shake you out of his mind. He hasn’t stopped thinking about you.

So, after a series of robberies and plans, he found the time to sneak away and return to Utah territory. 

He can’t stay too long, but he wants it to be long enough. Long enough to explain it all to you. 

His smile broadens as he struts down the open street, walking up behind you. He can’t wait to surprise you, to see your reaction as he calls out to you. 

“Hey, brown eyes.”

Just as you pick up your scarf, you shoot straight up and he hears you hold your breath. Turning slowly, your eyes meet. 

You just stare at him, pale-faced and dumbfounded.

He chortles, resting his hands on his gun belt. "Ain’t you gonna say hello?" He can feel the tension building between you but he needs to keep his confidence. But what did he expect? Did he really expect you to come running to him? Maybe. Maybe deep down that’s what he really came here for. To see if you really missed him after all. 

But you still stare at him, and slowly, your eyebrows furrow. 

Oh, hell. She’s mad, he thinks to himself. 

He loses his smile and hurriedly takes a step toward you. "Look, I'm sorry–"

"No," you interject with an open palm. "Don't. I should go." You turn to walk away. 

No. No. No. He can’t let it go like this. Not like the last time. He messed up then, thinking he could kiss you. But it became clear that you didn’t feel that way. After all, a door slamming in his face would be enough to wake anyone up. 

He quickly catches up to you and takes your hand. You whip around to look at him quickly, giving him a sharp glare.

He swallows and speaks quietly to you, not wanting to make a scene. The last thing he needs is attention and trouble. "Come with me. I need to talk to you," he whispers.

Your eyes meet and he can already feel the pull in your arm lessening. Your eyes soften, those beautiful doe-like eyes. He might be able to see stars in them if he stares long enough. 

And if he wasn’t listening, he wouldn’t have heard the soft, “okay” parting from your lips. 

He starts to lead you gently, back towards his horse, and you follow. His heart beats a little more steady now. He just needs to find someplace quiet so that there are no nosey ears.

Once you both reach the horse, and your eyes fall on her, your eyes brighten. "Boadicea...!" you greet quietly, but still unable to contain the excitement in your voice.

Arthur can’t help but smile. "You remembered."

Eager to get going, he puts his hands about your waist, and you gasp softly. "Oh!" But you don’t resist him, so he hoists you up onto Boadicea’s back with ease. Once he makes sure you’re sitting comfortably, he steps sideways and reaches up for the saddle horn. Gripping it tightly, he hoists himself up, careful not to kick you as he swings his leg over. 

"Hold onto me," he says low and soft as he looks at you over his shoulder. He waits and feels your hands glide across his sides, followed by your arms as you wrap them about his torso. His heart flutters a bit, almost instinctively and he clears his throat to jostle his thoughts. 

With a quick tap of his spurs, Boadicea gallops through the street, avoiding pedestrians with ease.

After what feels like a long ride, Arthur pulls the reins and Boadicea comes to a smooth stop. He checks your surroundings, seeing the expanse of the mountain landscape before him from the top of the hill where he stopped. There are a couple trees nearby and he figures he can either tie Boadicea off or let her wander around to graze. 

He tries to dismount but finds you still holding onto him for dear life, your face buried in his back. He laughs and pats your hands. "You can let go now, Eliza."

He feels you untuck your head away from his wool coat and look around. You're quiet for a moment, no doubt looking around to see where he’s taken you. “I've never been here before."

"I figured you don't get out much."

"No..." you sigh, inspired by the view. "It's beautiful."

When he feels you let him go, he gets off with a smooth motion. Coming around to the side where your legs are hanging off, he extends his arms out to you. You scoot forward, leaning over and placing your hands on his shoulders. 

You feel how muscular he is as he takes you by the waist and eases you down. You avoid eye contact, lest he see right through you, as you back away. Your eyes continue to avoid his gaze as you walk toward the couple of trees on the hill. Approaching a tall aspen, you wrap your arms around it and press your body into it as you cast your eyes upon the horizon. 

Arthur feels the urge to go near you, envying that damned tree, but he waits a minute and looks at you. There is something different about you. That liveliness that he has grown fond of is now like a flame dying out. He thought he could still see a glimmer in your eyes, when you stared at him in that muddy, ice covered street, as though it was just waiting for something to help it break through.

But he knows he had something to do with it. You didn't part amicably, even though he tried. He wishes that he told you that he was leaving, but you would've asked why. And the why isn't something easy to swallow.

And you, through the silence, begin to wonder about why he brought you here.

He must be married...or have a family, you think. That's what he wants to tell me. Why else would he bring me out all this way?

He wants you to look at him, to say something. The tension building is unbelievable!

He can bear it no longer. He unclenches his fists and takes calm steps toward you. You keep your face towards the sun, your back to him as you still cling onto that tree. 

"Eliza,” he speaks softly. He’s only ever used that voice with you. He can’t find it in him to be gruff or intimidating, something he has been trained to do. It’s what he’s done to get his way, just intensify his gaze and point a gun, and boom, he gets what he wants. 

But he can’t do that with you, even if he wanted to. He has to wait, like a starving animal, hoping that he gets a crumb of your attention. 

Answering his hopes, you finally let go of the tree and turn around. Those eyes, those beautiful, brown eyes can peer into his soul, he knows it. 

So it is best to come clean. “I wanna tell you the truth. I haven't been fully honest wit’chu." You don’t say anything, your eyes simply blinking. He takes off his hat and plays with its rim nervously. "My name ain’t Tacitus Kilgore.” He looks down and licks his chapped lips, trying to will the words to come out. He’s already started so he knows that he can’t back out now. “It's Arthur. Arthur Morgan. I...lied to you because...because I'm a wanted man."

He sees your eyes widen for a second and you take a step back. Arthur feels his shoulders droop. Here it comes. 

You lift your eyes as you lean back into the tree, your hands behind your back. He doesn’t feel like anything he can add will ease the news, so he just stands there, waiting expectantly. 

“What did you do?" you ask quietly. 

He’s had an answer prepared for such a question. It is the truth, but maybe not all of it. "Rob the rich. They don't need it and so we take it for the ones that do."

Your brow pinches. "Who's 'we?'"

"Our gang. There's...four of us.” Four men. Then there’s Susan, but she’s another story. “We had to leave on account of our trail bein’ picked up. That's why I was gone."

Your brow pinches even tighter, your freckled face wrinkled as your eyes cast downward and look from left to right. You’re thinking. Was it something he said? Of course, it was. You are recalling something, the evidence of deep thought in your expression. Then, suddenly, your eyes widen and your chin lifts to look at him again. "It was you, wasn't it?" you ask pointedly.

"Was what?"

"The Bank of Lee and Hoyt."

So you know. Word travels fast, so it would make sense that you would have heard by now. "...Yes."

"Why are you telling me this?" Your eyebrows furrow and you walk a few steps away from him, turning your back to look at the landscape. "It would have been easier for you to just never come back. Now that I know who you are..."

Now, he’s worried. Serves him right for thinking that things would be different. He should know better than to get his hopes up, especially when it comes to women. "You're not going to say anythin’, are you?" he dares to ask.

You look back at him over your shoulder. He studies your face, hoping to get some kind of hint as to what you’re thinking. What you’re feeling. The seconds feel like minutes as they pass between you. He has to wait for an answer. He needs to know how much time he has to pack up his things and leave.

But it is then that you shake your head slowly, a hint of a soft smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "No."

He grins slightly, relieved of your answer. He ventures to walk closer to you and you don’t move.

Your eyes follow his movements carefully. "Did you kill anyone?" you ask. 

"At the bank?"

"Yes."

He shakes his head, happy to tell you the answer. "No, I didn't. But that don't mean that I won't shoot those as need shootin’."

Your brow pinches in the most curious way again. "But why?"

Arthur sighs, empathetic to your innocent questions. You’re so innocent, so pure hearted, not altered by the world’s cruelty, at least to his knowledge. Even so, he’s confident you don’t hold a candle to his woes. Your life is too simple. "There's somethin’ you need to understand about the world we live in—and I've been in a large portion of it.” You both stand near toe to toe now, the smoke of your breath reaching his chest as he looks down at you. “This world is corrupt by greed and people starvin’ for power. Think about the war."

You nod. You weren’t born until after it ended, but that doesn’t mean you are ignorant of it. Bessie told you about the tragedy of her husband, how he was never the same when he came back and only found death as a cure to his agony, leaving a wife and son in its wake. War lasts long after it’s over. Arthur doesn’t doubt you’ve heard stories from your coworkers or even your folks when they were alive.

Arthur continues, "I don't have to tell you how unfair it is that many go hungry and without while a small few get to live it up in their fancy houses. So we got to do somethin’ about it."

It is then that your lips purse together, pouting, and your eyes flicker in anger, though your voice still calm. "And robbing banks is the way to do it? Poor people had their money stored in that bank.” You press a hand into your chest, right over your heart. “People I know."

But Arthur isn’t persuaded. He’s been raised to think the way he does. He lived with the short end of the stick for years, living hand to mouth when all he had were scraps from trash cans and a dead mother and father. What right does anyone have to take more than what’s due them? He steps toward you, sweeping his arm at the expanse of the landscape. "Do you really think it's theirs anymore once they give it to ‘em? Should the world fail, do you think they'd just give it back?"

You don’t answer. You don’t know how. He sees the puzzled look on your face and reaches for you. You don’t move away, and so he takes you by the arms and looks you in the eyes, those beautiful, earthen eyes. "You see, Eliza, I believe that there’s gonna be a day when we ain’t bound by man-made laws and greed. Where we can be free to explore and live in an untamed wilderness. We've become too civilized and with that comes more evils than ever was. We wasn't ever meant to live surrounded by stone and brick."

Your lip trembles and your eyes glisten as they look down again. You’re overwhelmed, ideas and thoughts running through your head at a hundred miles an hour. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Just so you can understand my life and what it is."

You look back up at him and as you blink, little tears trickle down your ruddy cheeks. "But why does it matter whether I do or not? You could have carried on as though you were never here.” You look away and wipe the tears with the back of your hand. “Yet, you still came back."

You’re right. For whatever reason, and he isn’t sure he will ever truly know, he came back. "Yes, I did."

He still holds onto you but lessens his grip. You move your arms and grab both sides of his coat collar and tug on it for a moment. You stroke the wool of his coat as though it were dusty as you run through the thoughts in your head. He remains still, letting you have your thoughts and to keep them.

All he can think about is how deeply he’s entangled in this life, and how dragging you into it could very well be his greatest sin. Yet, here he is, unable to stay away, drawn back to you as if roped and tied by some unseen force. He knows he cares for you. You are different from most of the women that he has known in his life. More different than the one who broke his heart a couple of years ago, a woman who couldn't love him for who he was.

Perhaps a part of him had hoped that by sharing his worldview, you might see the appeal of it. Maybe take the chance that Mary was never willing to. He wants to prove to himself that it is possible. He can have both. Love and Liberty.

You flatten your lips as you try to suppress more tears. You don’t want to come across as immature and stupid. You haven’t cried in months, you wouldn't allow yourself to do it, and now you are trying all that you can and feel yourself weakening.

Arthur remains silent. The way you clutch at his coat and choke on tears shows him how this all affects you. He begins to wonder if he should leave you alone. He's putting you at risk for even telling you his name.

"I missed you," you sob as you lean into him and bury your face in his chest.

Arthur can feel something in his chest. Here is this young, beautiful woman who is opening her heart to him. He is scared, though he'd never admit it, but he is willing to try to let you in.

With a hesitant sigh, you slowly wrap your arms around him, your face still hidden in the crook of his neck. You feel his warmth seeping into your body as he leans into your embrace, his strong arms enveloping you in a gentle hold. It's like being cocooned in a safe haven, protected from the outside world.

In response to your touch, he tightens his grip and presses his lips against the top of your head, his resistance to touching you breaking down slowly. Time stands still as you both hold each other tightly, cherishing this quiet moment between the two of you. "I...I missed you, too," he admits.

"Really?" your muffled voice sounds.

He moves away, revealing your sweet face to him. He smiles and uses his right hand to lift your chin. And then he sees them: those brown, doe-like eyes of yours. You make a small, sweet smile and the feeling in his heart swells. "Really," he answers.

You place your hands behind his neck and pull him to you.

And you kiss.

The world seems to hold its breath as your lips meet. Time stands still, suspended in the air around you. He lifts you up with a gentle strength and pulls you closer, his kiss enveloping you in warmth. His senses heighten as he inhales the familiar scent of you, amplifying the intensity of the moment. Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, drawing him even nearer to you. The outside world fades away as you melt into the embrace, each second feeling like an eternity of bliss. He can feel your heart pounding, even with all of the thickness of the layers you both wear. Can you feel his? Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad if you could.

After a moment of bliss, you part, gasping for air.

"You missed me that much?" Arthur exhales. You only giggle. "I'll take that as a yes."

You nod vehemently, completely at a loss for words.

***

Arthur pulls the reins gently and Boadicea comes to a halt. He pauses a moment to watch as the sun continues to rise and peek its way through the surrounding trees and in between the buildings of this small town. He left pretty early this morning, managing to slip out from under you as you had slept in his arms last night. 

He didn’t mind it. It was a nice change compared to the hard ground he has been sleeping on. It was as though you had melted in his embrace, your expression soft and relaxed for once. 

He wishes that it was just you and the children. No one else. Just you, Isaac, Alice, and the untamed sky. He needs to keep hoping he will get you there and not listen to the nagging feeling that keeps creeping up. 

He’s afraid he can’t leave. 

Or won’t. 

How well does he know himself? Sure, he tried to leave, that ring in his pocket still burning a hole, but if it weren’t for the imminent danger you and the little ones were in, would he have really managed it? Would he have made it without Dutch or anyone else hunting him? 

He doesn’t have the time to sit around and think about it. He dismounts Boadicea with a swing of his leg and lands on his feet with a hard thud. He hitches the mare to the hitching post and gives her a gentle pat on the neck before heading toward the general store. As he walks up the wooden steps he sees two women sitting on a bench just beside the door. They eye him with soft smiles and he tips his hat. “Ladies,” he says softly. 

Just as he passes them to reach the door, they look at each other and giggle softly. He’s surprised he has that effect on civilized women. He was just being polite and unassuming. If he’s going to do any robbing in this town, he’s going to need to put on a good impression. 

But that’s not what’s on his mind. 

He lets himself in the store, hearing the little bell jingle. At the front counter is an old man, with an apron and rolled-up sleeves. He’s either the store owner or employee. No matter, he is the one Arthur needs to speak to.

But what he has to ask, he isn’t ready to ask a stranger.

But here he is, anyway. 

The old man lifts his head from whatever it is he’s doing and upon seeing the brutish-looking Arthur his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. “Oh! Well, h-hello. How can I help you?”

Arthur takes a look around to make sure no one else is in the store. It will be much easier this way. 

He swallows and calmly walks over to the front counter. The old man watches him carefully, placing both hands on the counter’s surface. 

“Yes, sir, erm…” He clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck. “Erm…do you…?”

The clerk raises a brow and almost leans forward. “Yes…?”

Just come out and ask, Morgan! 

Arthur chuffs, letting a puff of air leave his lips. “Do you have bottles? For feedin’ babies?” He shifts on his feet and leans close toward the clerk. “I got a baby daughter and…”

The clerk stands upright, exhaling a breath of relief as he smiles broadly. “Say no more, sir. We have a little selection of glass bottles that you can choose from.” He moves from around the counter waving Arthur on. “Just follow me.”

Arthur follows the clerk down a narrow aisle lined with an assortment of goods ranging from sacks of flour to cans of beans. The scent of leather and tobacco pervades the air, mingling with the subtle aroma of medicinal herbs packed in small jars along the shelves.

At the end of the aisle, the clerk stops in front of a small display of baby supplies—a modest assortment of diaper cloths and cans labeled “infant formula”. Arthur pinches his brow, not having ever seen such a thing before.

The clerk gestures to a display of glass bottles. “This here what you’re lookin’ for?”

Arthur nods but points to the cans. “What’s that stuff there?”

There is a gleam in the clerk’s eye, eager to make his little sales pitch. “Only the most convenient product for mothers and their little ones…!” He reaches to take one of the cans and holds it for Arthur’s viewing. “Add a little bit of water to this, shake it real good, and you’ve got instant food for your baby daughter!”

Arthur isn’t convinced but out of curiosity, he takes the can and begins to read the ingredients. “cow's milk, wheat flour, malt flour, and potass—potass-I-um bicarb—”

The clerk pronounces it for him. “That’s potass-ee-um bicarbonate. Essential minerals for a healthy, growing baby!”

Arthur frowns. He’s known folk to use the milk from a goat or cow, something natural, but to have milk from a can? While he isn’t above chugging down a can of beans or peaches, feeding his baby girl something he can't even pronounce doesn't sit right with him.

He turns the can over in his hands, examining the label as if it might reveal some shady information. "It ain't... it ain't got nothin' bad for her, does it?" His voice is thick with concern; after all, the whole purpose of him coming into town was to get provisions that will help make your responsibilities easier. “I had fixed to go get a cow or a goat, but…” His voice trails off as he looks back at the display of bottles, still clutching the can of formula in his hand.

The clerk, sensing Arthur's hesitation, leans in closer, lowering his voice to a more reassuring tone. “No sir, nothing bad at all. It’s all tested and safe. See, it’s got the approval stamp right here.” He taps on the label where an embossed seal can be made out. "Many mothers out this way swear by it, saves 'em the trouble when times get tough or milkin' cows ain't possible."

Arthur gives a slow nod, his eyes lingering on the seal as though trying to will it to disclose more than it could. His gaze then shifts back to the clerk, a mix of suspicion and necessity clouding his rugged face. "Reckon it could save time," he mutters, more to himself than to anyone else. Still, he can’t shake off the unease coiling in his gut.

The clerk clicks his tongue, eager to make a sale, but still willing to give any customer a peace of mind. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t you just buy one can, try it out and see if it is something you want to stick with? Get your goat, if you want, but at least know you have an option.” He gives Arthur a good pat on the shoulder. “I’d like to help a father such as yourself.”

Arthur's hand tightens around the can, the metal cool under his grip. He nods stiffly, the lines of his face set hard like the clay soil that cracks under the relentless sun. "Alright," he grunts, "I'll take one." He turns to the clerk. “How much?”

“Fifty cents,” he answers. “The glass bottles are a dollar each.”

Arthur, looking back at the bottles, points to ones shaped like a bulb, with a wider base that curves into a narrow neck. He isn’t sure if it matters, but he reaches out and grabs two of them. “They come with the…the…”

“Nipples?” the clerk finishes. “Yes, they do. Easy to clean. Boil them in hot water to sterilize them.”

Arthur nods. That he can do.

The clerk then points behind him in the direction of the counter. “Let me wrap those up for you. Wouldn’t want the glass to break.”

Arthur follows the clerk to the counter, his steps heavy, his mind racing. The clerk slips around to the other side of the counter and grabs a fresh sheet of brown paper. “Alright, that is going to be two dollars and fifty cents.”

Arthur rummages through his satchel for the cash, nearly tossing it on the counter in front of the clerk. The man takes time to count it to make sure all of the money is there. Nodding, he puts the bills and coins in the nearby register.

Arthur watches as the clerk carefully wraps each bottle in a thick layer of brown paper, securing them with a string. The can of milk powder is placed beside them, its label still staring up at him, a quiet reminder of the things he still doesn’t know about child raising.

The clerk grabs a freshly unfolded paper bag, shaking it once to open it and after setting it down, he carefully puts the items inside. “That should be secure enough for your wagon.”

“Saddle bag,” Arthur corrects.

The old man looks up at Arthur. “What?”

“Shoah,” Arthur grins. “My mare is pretty fast. Had to make a quick trip into town before the baby wakes up. She gets pretty hungry when her eyes are open.”

The clerk's jaw drops and he sputters, "Y-you mean, you actually left your baby at home?"

Arthur nonchalantly shrugs his broad shoulders, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yeah, where else would I leave her?" As the clerk continues to stammer in disbelief, Arthur casually reaches over the counter and grabs the brown paper bag containing his purchase. "Thanks, mister," he says with a charming grin and a tip of his hat, before sauntering out the door and leaving the flustered clerk behind. The sound of his boots echoing on the tiled floor accompanies him as he makes his way back to his waiting mount, eager to resume their adventures together.

“Hey girl,” he coos and walks over to the saddlebag. And just as he’s about to put his newly purchased goods away, he hears his name being called out.

“Arthur…!”

He freezes. What idiot is using his real name in public? He looks around, hoping to find the source of the voice.

Then he hears it again. “Arthur…!”

He recognizes it and finally following its direction, he sees the old fool that possesses it.

It’s Uncle.

Arthur lets out a groan and steps away from Boadicea. If that old man gets too close, she might just kick him. “What do you want?”

At least Uncle isn’t drunk, for his walk is more straight than sideways. His cheeks are red and his hat looks weathered, his boots sloshing in the mud. “I was wonderin’ if you’d like to join me!” He walks closer and reaches to pat Arthur on the shoulder. Not interested in comradery, Arthur motions to move away, but not in time. Uncle’s hand makes contact with Arthur’s arm with a firm pat. Uncle pauses, looking at Arthur’s muscular arm. “Woah, you sure pack punch beneath those worn-out clothes, don’t you?”

Arthur narrows his eyes. “I ain’t interested in whatever it is you’re doin’,” he growls, and his hand clutches the brown sack tightly. “I’ve got business of my own.”

Uncle looks almost disappointed, his shoulders slumped. “Well, how else am I gonna apologize for last night? Hell, if I had known she was your woman and them pups was yours, I—”

Arthur pushes Uncle aside, going back to the saddlebag. “Don’t start now, Uncle,” and he tucks the paper bag carefully inside. “I’ve been in a good mood and I don’t want it spoiled before I get back to camp.”

“Well, if you’re inchin’ towards a bad mood, where I’m goin’ would definitely flip that around!” Uncle cackles loudly, his thumb pointing towards the saloon. “I’m lookin’ for some good feminine company and the drinks are on me!” He winks, a crooked grin splitting his weathered face.

Arthur sighs. Even if you two aren’t, what folks would say, paired up, he isn’t interested in entertaining other women. “I ain’t that kind of feller.”

Uncle scoffs, as though he finds that hard to believe. “Well, I know a couple of fellers back at camp who are! Maybe I should have asked them instead of wastin’ my time with you!”

Arthur just stands there with his free hand on his gun belt, nonchalant as ever. He casually walks back over to Boadicea and mounts her without a second thought. “Maybe so, Uncle.” He pats Boadicea on the neck. “Meanwhile, I ain’t wastin’ any time gettin’ back to my family.”

With a sharp kick, Arthur sets the red mare in motion, leaving Uncle standing in the mud, his figure growing smaller as they gallop away. The sky above is a canvas of gray clouds, heavy with the promise of more rain, and the air is tinged with the chill of an early winter. He knows it. Even though it is barely October, he can sense it.

And a sudden dread fills him. He can’t have you and the babies in tents scattered about in the wilderness.

Time is running out.

Just as you feared.

***

"So what do you think?" he asks, lighting a match.

The hideout is small, as most bermed houses are. It has a dirt floor that is packed down, and two widows to let light in. The house has wooden beams to support the walls. There is a small kitchen, but no pump. There is a small cabinet with mixed dishware. A small wood stove separates the living space from where he sleeps: a simple-framed bed with a patchwork quilt with a folded blanket at the edge. He has had time to make this place a small home. If one can get past the initial look, it could be comfortable. 

Still looking around, you nod your head softly. "It's...nice." After a moment, you spot a chair near the old, wooden table and sit down, continuously rubbing your shoulders to warm up.

You feel crazy, getting on the back of his horse, in the middle of a heavy rain, no questions asked. You’re soaked to the skin and unless you’re standing by a fire, you’re not going to get anywhere near close to dry. 

You hear Arthur chortle and so you turn your head to look at his broad back as he remains crouched in front of the potbelly stove, gently blowing the flame caught on the kindling. "Just nice? This is a good place to be if you need a spot to rest after a long day of travelin’."

You shrug your shoulders, partly distracted. "Sure."

He turns to look at you over his shoulder. He watches you look around absentmindedly but knows enough to recognize when your mind is full of thoughts.

"What is it?" he asks.

You blink and pause rubbing your shoulders. "What do you mean?"

He ensures that the fire is going to continue to burn and then closes the door part of the way to let oxygen feed the fire for a little longer. He rises to his feet, grabs the small folded blanket, then approaches you. With a swift motion, he unfurls it and wraps it around you and you instantly begin to feel warmer. “There,” he says, his voice barely audible. 

When you catch his eyes, you feel a strange sensation in your face, like you’re on fire but ice cold at the same time, a walking contradiction. 

Satisfied that you won't be shivering anymore, he steps away from you, to the other side of the table, where his only remaining chair sits. Taking it, he drags it over to where you sit and lets it skirch to a stop. Going to sit across from you, he straddles the chair and rests his arms on the back of it, finally resting his head on his arms.

You find it almost endearing but the way he looks at you makes the strange feeling intensify. You’re both quiet for a moment, the sound of your swallowing almost too loud for your liking. 

Then, after another minute, he speaks softly. "You know what I mean. I thought you'd be excited to be somewhere new for once. You'd been askin’ to see my hideout, but it is clear that your mind is somewhere else."

Your brow lifts. "How did you know?"

He gives you a knowing look and smiles. "I know you well enough."

You sigh. You aren’t keen on being read so easily. If you’re going to keep this relationship of yours more hidden, especially now that you know he’s an outlaw, you’re going to need to put on a better poker face. 

Since you haven’t given him a reply, he speaks again. "You mind tellin’ me what's goin’ on?"

His voice, so warm and smooth, is like the best cup of tea or coffee, like a warm apple pie. You look at his lips and the memory of their touch against yours still occupies your thoughts. It’s nice to kiss him whenever the moment strikes you. 

But lately, you’ve been thinking about what lies beyond such an intimate display of affection. 

Then you remember Bethy’s words of advice. 

Bethy. The look on her face as you rode off with Arthur. You hadn’t told her that he was back and as soon as you saw his figure through the rain-streaked window, you rushed out the door and ignored Bethy calling after you as you took Arthur’s hand. He swung you up onto Boadicea and galloped off. 

Your eyes cast downward as the guilt floods your chest, the strange feeling ebbing away. "I don't like the way I left Bethy."

Arthur tilts his head as it still rests on his folded arms. "Bethy?"

"You know, the waitress I work with."

He nods slowly. "Oh, right."

You bend over into your lap, propping your head up as your elbows dig into your thighs. "I just took off and ignored her. She really wanted to talk to me. I've never treated her like that before, but she kept pressing me about my personal life."

Arthur’s eyes widen, his worry belying his nonchalance. "Have you told her about me?"

You shake your head in an effort to reassure him. "She knows that you're Tacitus Kilgore, nothing more."

"Well good,” he sighs, his body relaxing.

"I just wish that she wouldn't care so much about me, right now."

He chuffs. "You are nicer than me."

"What would you have done?"

"If someone wanted to get into my business I would have told ‘em off, or punched ‘em."

You look back up at him again. You sometimes forget what kind of a man he is, what kind of a life he lives. He’s told you some about the people he lives with, but not everything. "Is that what you do when Dutch asks you about me?"

He turns his head, avoiding your intense gaze. "Dutch don't know, and no, I wouldn't."

You aren’t sure how to feel about that. On one hand, you want the secrecy to remain on both sides, his and yours. On the other hand, you want him to be excited enough to tell at least one person about you. Wouldn’t Dutch be that person? "Why doesn't he?"

He shrugs. "He has his own thoughts about women, and we don't exactly agree." The way he says it, it sounds like there’s more to it than that, but he clearly doesn’t want to talk about it. 

But your damned curiosity. It’s worse than your desire to be held in his arms or kissed longingly. "Such as...?"

Arthur looks up at you again, into those deep pools of amber. He doesn’t want to talk about his past relationship, and how Dutch, his mentor and gang leader, chastised him for loving someone who didn't accept their ways, who wouldn't join their cause. 

Hosea, as close to a father as one could get, was more gracious about the matter, given his own personal relationship with his wife Bessie, but they both agreed that it wasn't a good idea. And it seems the only women brought to camp share the same profession as your neighbors, in which he has never taken a deep interest. There’s too much detachment. There’s more to sex than just a warm body. He’s always wanted more than what working women can offer. 

He thought he had that with Mary, a connection that was beyond the superficial. She was a tempting beauty, with class and femininity that he found most desirable. As such, being raised on certain principles, she kept her standards selective, with the promise to only lie with the man she’d marry. And to honor her wishes, they never went beyond the passionate kiss and exploratory fondling, which took great willpower on his part to not explore her any further. 

Even so, Arthur had loved Mary and had plans to marry her, but it didn't happen, and will never be. If he were to even mention now that he is seeing a young waitress in the town that they had once hoped to rob, if it weren't for the lack of a finished bank at the time, it would complicate things.

He offers a smile. "Let's just say he thinks I ought to be alone for a while."

His answer only confuses you, which rattles your curiosity even more, but despite the urge, you decide not to press it. "I guess I always thought I would be alone," you say instead, finding some common ground.

"I don't believe you," he snorts.

You reach up and slap his arm lightly, unable to conceal the cheeky grin on your face. "It's true! Ever since my folks died, I just merely existed. I cohabit with the world but hardly live. I had to put a lot of my own dreams away while survival took precedence."

You and your words. He’s picked up on vocabulary through books and Dutch’s monologues, but never has he used them in frequency. But the way you seem to put it all in sentences, it’s more poetry than any he was ever forced to read. 

But it’s the meaning of your words that really sinks in. Dreams. He’s had them. He still has them. They’ve just changed over the years. "I kinda know what you mean."

"What dreams do you have, Arthur?"

He rolls his shoulders and readjusts himself in his chair. "You already know. To be free."

"And right now you're just surviving?"

"Sometimes.” His eyes fall to your lips, soft and red like a pair of cherries. He’s had a pomegranate once, a forbidden fruit, it was called. But it seems that that name was misplaced, it belongs somewhere else. “Sometimes I can get a taste of what freedom looks like."

He looks at you, really looks at you this time, and realizes how beautiful you are. You aren’t decked out in jewelry, powders, rouge, or drenched in perfume. Just a simple, but now soaked, cotton shirt and wool skirt, with your hair in a simple braid. 

Simple. Plain. 

And somehow, you are more beautiful now than you’ve ever been, and he wants you. He wants to be with you, but he knows there is great risk involved, and not just because he is an outlaw.

He begins to feel the heat rising in his belly, the increasing rhythm of his heartbeat. He recognizes it almost immediately and knows that he’s treading dangerous ground. He quickly rises from the chair, lifts his leg over it, and moves toward the little kitchen. "You hungry?" he coughs, looking through the cupboard. "I've got beans, beans, and more beans."

You giggle, helping to put Arthur at ease. "I am alright, thanks."

He needs to change the subject, get his mind off of the road it’s traveling. "Are you shoah? I ain't much of a cook, but I think I might have some herbs in here somewhere and we can fix up somethin’ real nice."

The quick clanking of cans and rattling bags of dried beans gets your attention and you begin to study him with a raised brow. "Arthur?"

"I might even have some jerky if I can just find it." He squats down and buries his head into a lower cupboard and begins to rummage through his stores, in a desperate attempt to distract himself.

You raise your voice suddenly, hoping he’ll stop and look at you this time. "Arthur!"

It catches him off guard, and in a quick effort to back away from the cupboard, he hits the back of his head. "Ah!"

He gets out and rises to a standing position, rubbing his head. He turns to see you now standing, setting the blanket on the chair, and coming to him. He backs away. "I am fine," he assures you with a grumble, palm still rubbing the base of his skull.

You only smile softly and walk closer to him. He doesn’t move, eyes watching you carefully. You stand in front of him, shoe to shoe, and getting up on your toes, you kiss his cheek softly. You feel the prickle of his stubble, but you don’t mind. He seems to be going with that less-clean shaven look. Less baby-faced and more rugged. You go back onto your flat feet, and that’s when you notice how wet his coat is. 

“Oh!” you gasp. "You are soaked! You should take your coat off."

He swallows thickly and grumbles as he makes an attempt to turn away, his ears burning pink. "No, I am fine."

But you grab his arm, pulling at it gently. "Arthur, take off your coat."

He says nothing but eyes your serious expression and you try desperately not to smile. 

After a few seconds, he relents, letting out an exaggerated sigh, and begins to take off his coat. You don’t realize how you watch him, your eyes following his candid movements to remove his heavy coat. He grumbles something under his breath and once he’s free of it, you take it from him and turn around to go hang it up. Spotting where your coat was hung, you calmly walk to it and try to hang his coat up on the nail beside it. 

But, of course, being too short, your attempt looks rather ridiculous. After letting you try a few times, he walks over and takes the coat from you, hanging it easily by the stove to let it dry.

"Show off," you mumble playfully.

And he scoffs, keeping his chin up but still looks down at you with a smug grin. "Can't help it that you're so short."

Despite your scowl, you aren’t able to hide your laugh, nor your smirk. You swat him again. "Hey, that wasn't funny."

"I thought it kinda was."

"Arthur Morgan!" you chide.

He turns away from you, stepping back towards the cupboards and shrugging his shoulders. "What?” he asks with a lilt, bordering a whine. “Can't I laugh a little?"

You eye his body language. It’s not the confident, bold persona he usually carries. Even when you’ve been out walking together, he always has his head held high, eyes looking around. Now he can’t even look at you. "Oh, I get it."

You can hear the nervousness in his voice, despite his efforts to speak calmly and slowly. "What?"

You rest a hand on your hip, your skirt still dripping on the floor. "Now it is you who is acting strange."

He chortles dismissively, throwing his hands up flippantly. "It's strange to joke around, now?"

"I mean before that."

He turns back around and crosses his arms like a child. You try not to laugh. "I was not."

You move closer to Arthur and try to put on a front, lifting your chin defiantly. "Yes, you were."

"You're really tryin’ to intimidate me?" Arthur’s words intend to be a challenge but come out as more of a question, for he steps back and tugs at his collar.

You step closer to him and you have to look straight up at him to meet his eyes. You speak low and soft, feigning innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He looks down at you and after he swallows, you see a change in his eyes. Something darker, warmer, the ocean blue heating like a tropical sea. "You know that is what I do for a livin’, right?" he purrs.

"Sure, but I think I am making you nervous." You poke a forefinger in his chest.

Arthur scoffs, rolling his eyes. "I ain't nervous."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I ain't."

"Yes, you are,” you push.

"No."

You step closer to him, your chest pushing into his torso. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!" he shouts back.

But you keep calm, your grin far from removed. "Prove it."

He hesitates for a moment. Then in a rush of spontaneity, he takes your head in his hands and kisses you firmly on the lips. They taste of hunger, his breath shaky as your lips part just enough to feel the desperate edge of his need. His fingers, rough and calloused, brush against your cheek, sending a shudder down your spine. The world seems to fall away; it's just you and Arthur, tangled in this raw moment that feels both stolen and inevitable.

Arthur pulls away first, breathing heavily. His eyes search yours, unsure of what to say.

"Well, that was not what I meant, but that proves something," you sigh with a smile.

He looks you over, brushing some loose hair from your face. "I had to do that, I am sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You can kiss me anytime you want."

He feels himself stirring, his heart aching as he knows where these feelings are coming from. He’s drawing too close to the flames, but at this point, he doesn’t care if he gets burned.

“But what if I wanna kiss you all the time?" he confesses. 

Your hands tremble as they reach out to meet his, still cupping your face gently. The warmth of his skin against yours sends a strange electric current coursing through your body. "How do you think I feel when you are away?" Your voice has changed, no longer filled with the usual playfulness and shyness, but instead tinged with sadness and a sense of longing. It is softer, almost like a caress. You can see the pain in his eyes mirrored back at you, and you only hope that he feels just as lost without you by his side.

Arthur quickly answers, "I can't live here. I've got to go back and help my gang. Loyalty matters to them. It matters to me."

You nod, your heart sinking. "I know. I just wish..."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Your mind starts to reel. You want him to stay. You love him and want him to stay and love you back. Even if it is just to live in this little hideout, you would be happy. You have been happier with much less.

With gentle yet sure movements, Arthur's hands find your small waist and draw you closer to his muscular body. The heat of his embrace envelopes you, radiating through your entire being. Your fingers instinctively find their way to the back of his neck, pulling him in for a hug. As he lifts you up, his breath tickles your neck and sends shivers down your spine. In that moment, all you can think about is how much he means to you and how badly you want him. Every nerve in your body yearns for more contact, more closeness with this man who holds your heart. You long for something more than just a kiss or an embrace. You want to give a reason to come back to you.

You lean back and Arthur loosens his arms. You look him up and down, regarding his broad shoulders and strong physique. He is a very attractive man, though somehow you feel that he wouldn't believe you if you told him.

You let your arms come down to his chest and you grab at his collar. You start to feel strange. Different. Something that words couldn't ever describe. A heavy feeling in your head, but a lightness in your heart as it begins to beat faster and faster.

You focus on one of the buttons on his shirt, hesitating, before undoing it.

As you go to the next one, Arthur, suddenly, holds down your hands onto his chest quickly, stopping you. You lift your eyes to look up at him, your face turning red.

The expression in his eyes is difficult to read. But you can feel his heart pounding. You then begin to understand. With his eyes he is asking, are you sure?

You don’t doubt his experience. He’s older and while it is a mystery, you somehow know that his knowledge of the world surpasses anything you’ve ever been taught. But even if you did know, it doesn’t deter you.

But you remain still, frozen in the moment, causing him to slowly lower his hands, thinking it is over. However, your hands suddenly rise and gently caress his face, pulling him close. The warmth of your touch ignites a fire within him, as you press your body against his in a slow, passionate embrace. This kiss is unlike any other he has received from you before—it is filled with intense emotion and a burning desire that leaves him breathless. At this moment, time seems to stand still as your lips meet and your bodies merge together in an electric dance of love and longing.

He then begins to understand. It is your answer.

And he cannot help but respond in kind.

“Eliza,” he sighs softly once your lips part again and he brings his lips to the softness of your neck. You gasp softly, for he’s never done this before, never has taken it this far.

“I don’t know what to do…” you confess.

And you feel his breath as he laughs into your skin. “Neither do I.”

You feel the heat in your cheeks. You don’t know if he is winding you up, or being honest. But his strong hands gently frame your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he looks into your eyes. "But none of that matters ‘cause I’m here," he murmurs, his voice low and comforting. “Wit’chu.”

You nod slowly and he leans in to kiss you again. Your senses are all alight all at once. The feel of his lips, the sounds of his breathing, the taste of passion and hunger, and then you feel his fingers deftly go to work on the buttons of your shirt.

His movements are careful, almost reverent, as if each button he undoes unveils a secret he’s been longing to discover. The air between you crackles with tension, each breath you take mingling with his. As your shirt and chemise fall away, leaving your skin bare to the cool night air, you shiver—not from cold, but from the sheer intensity of the moment. The gray light filters through the window, the lantern on the table casting shadows that dance across your skin, accentuating every curve and edge with a haunting glow.

Arthur’s hands pause momentarily as he takes in the sight, his eyes burning with a mix of awe and desire. It’s as if he is seeing a marvelous work, every freckle and line a revelation that stirs something deep within him. His fingertips trace the contours of your shoulder, down the gentle slope of your arm, eliciting a tremble from your lips as you watch him drink in the sight of you.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, almost to himself as his fingers linger on the curve of your waist. The intensity in his gaze is palpable, and it sends a shiver of anticipation through your spine. You reach out, hands gliding over the rough fabric of his shirt, feeling the solid strength of his shoulders underneath. "God, you're so beautiful..."

Arthur's breath hitches slightly as you pull him close, your fingernails scratching at his exposed skin. The adrenaline coursing through you wants you to work faster, but you want to take the same amount of care he is taking with you. Slowly, deliberately, your fingers work the remaining buttons of his shirt, each one released with a soft pop that seems to echo in the quiet room. Your heart pounds fiercely in your chest as fabric parts, revealing the taut muscles beneath. His skin is warm under your touch, and letting your hand glide over his pectoral muscles and chest hair, you can feel his heart pounding beneath.

You giggle. “Like a rabbit.”

Arthur chuckles low in his throat, a sound that rumbles warmly against your ear. "A rabbit, huh?" he teases, his voice laced with amusement and something deeper, something that makes your insides flutter.

His hands are now on your hips, gripping them gently but firmly, pulling you closer until there's no space left between you. His presence is overwhelming, enveloping you in a way that words could never capture. The rough texture of his hands contrasts with the softness of your skin, creating a sensation so intense it borders on pain, yet it’s the kind of pain you never want to end.

That’s when his hands move lower, gripping your wool skirt and hiking it upwards. You figure that the moment is right, sweeping away any lingering doubt with the heat of his touch. The cool air brushes against your legs, raising goosebumps in its wake as Arthur's hands explore new territories. His movements are deliberate, hands trembling, yet there's a gentleness that belies the fierce desire in his eyes.

You reach behind you to unhook the fixture in your skirt and contrasting his efforts, it falls back down and to the floor. You take a step back and gripping the waistband of your bloomers, you push them down, bending over and stepping out of them.

It is now hitting you like a crashing wave.

You are naked.

In front of a half-dressed man.

Arthur's gaze upon you is intense, a storm of emotions swirling within those deep-set eyes. The room seems to hold its breath, the only sounds are the crackling of the wood in the stove, the rain outside, and your synchronized heartbeats. He's trying to keep his cool, to not get tunnel vision, but to remain present, as the blood rushes through his head, his heart pounding in his chest. 

You want to cover yourself with your hands, the way he looks at you. But at the same time, you can’t bring yourself to do it. You stand there, vulnerable yet empowered, under his unwavering stare.

For a moment, he simply stares, his expression unreadable, the tension between you palpable like the charged air before a storm. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he steps forward. The gap that had separated you closes as if it were never there. His large hands gently cup your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks softly, soothing your nerves, if but for a second.

“You wanna…?” he starts, but his voice drops as he swallows. “Go to the bed?”

How is he so calm? Your heart could run out of your chest if it wasn’t contained in breath and bone.

You nod, unable to speak.

And he nods. “Okay…” And in a gentle motion, he sweeps his strong arm underneath you and picks you up, cradling you in his arms as though you were a fragile, little thing.

The room blurs slightly as Arthur carries you towards the bed, each step he takes pulsing through your body with a rhythmic thud. The earth sod floor is soft under his weight, adding a soothing soundtrack to the swirling emotions enveloping the space. You can feel his heart beating against your side, strong and steady, a reassurance in the storm of your own rapid breaths. You're laid upon the bed, his hands never leaving your body, tracing lines across your skin as if to memorize your form. The bed creaks under the shift of weight, and for a moment, there's a settling silence that drapes over both of you.

He rises to stand erect, and you watch his hands go to his gun belt and he slowly begins to remove it.

You feel the blood flush from your face. You know what it is coming next.

You’ve never seen a fully naked man, not even in pictures. You’ve heard tell of sculptures of nude people in art exhibits, but you weren’t ever sure how to picture them. You’ve seen male babies, when you helped babysit the Thurmon twins, but that is far from what this reality is becoming.

You quickly turn away, gasping.

Bethy’s voice echoes in your head.

You aren’t ready.

You aren’t ready.

Was she right? Are you?

Cutting into your thoughts, you hear his voice call out to you. “Eliza…” His tone is soft, laced with a concern that makes you turn back to face him. He’s standing still, gun belt in one hand, the end of it hanging loose by his side. The lamp light casts shadows across his face, deepening the lines of worry that crease his brow. “You don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t wanna do.”

His words drift through the dimly lit room, muffled slightly by the pounding in your ears. You look into his eyes, finding an earnestness that steadies your fluttering heart. "I want to…I just…" you whisper, your own voice sounding foreign amidst the creaking silence of the old room. Your eyes go to his waistline. “I’m…scared, Arthur.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, tremulous and uncertain. The admission feels like a release of some pent-up storm within you, its winds now sighing across the room where only the two of you breathe.

Arthur steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours. He carefully places the gun belt on the trunk at the foot of his bed.

He approaches the bed slowly, his movements deliberate, as if he’s trying to give you the time to change your mind. “It’s all right, Eliza,” Arthur soothes, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet room. “Ain’t no hurry. We can just talk, or…” He feels a sinking feeling in his chest, a contrast to the tightness he feels in his pants. He tries his best to conceal it, and thankfully, you aren’t looking in his direction. “…or just be together like this. Ain’t nothing needs to be rushed.” He hesitates before his hand reaches out towards you, an invitation hanging silently between you both.

No. That isn’t what you want. You don’t want the moment to be over. You feel stupid. Stupid for being a coward, for not keeping your mouth shut and just let him take the lead.

You shake your head and begin to curl up in a ball, feeling more exposed and foolish than ever. “I’m so stupid.”

“No…!” Arthur goes to the bed and sits down. You feel his warm hand on your arm and he gives it a gentle squeeze. “I was tryin’ to be shoah that you was…” He sighs. “It’s my fault.”

“I ache,” you confess, your hand and arm instinctively going between your thighs. “I feel things that I…” You turn and hide your face in his pillow. “I want you to touch me. To do things. My head feels hot and cold and I…” You feel tears sting your eyes. “I ruined it. You don’t want me now.” It is then you hear him chuckle, making you feel confused. You look up at him to see him smiling at you, shaking his head. “What?”

“Darlin’,” he purrs. “You have no idea how hard it is to keep from wantin’ you.” He runs a hand over his face and you see the tips of his ears turn hot pink. “I’ve touched myself imaginin’ it’s you…”

His brazenness shocks you and you hide your face again.

Arthur laughs at his own embarrassment but it softens into a tender, deep chuckle that fills the small space between you. "Eliza," he murmurs, and the way he says your name stirs something fierce and longing within you. His hand moves from your arm to gently cup your cheek, coaxing you to look at him. His face is tender, the roughness of his life on the frontier softened in this moment of intimacy. "You ain't ruined nothin'," he assures you, his thumb caressing your cheek. "If anythin’, you bein' honest only makes me want’chu more."

You dare to meet his gaze, finding earnestness in those stunning eyes of his.

The vulnerability in his expression gives you a courage you didn't know you had. By some instinct, you rise to sit up and your hand reaches up to touch his face, tracing the line of his jaw with a trembling finger. His skin is rough from the wind and sun, yet his eyes hold a gentle warmth that makes your heart beat faster.

"You mean it?” you ask.

He nods. “Can’t lie to you.”

Your heart still beats steadily, but the heat slowly returns once again. Do you feel safe with him? You’re as bare as you can get and still, he hasn’t tried to take advantage of you. He isn’t Willy, or any of the men who have given you odd looks. For someone who is deemed a criminal, he has treated you with more tenderness and human kindness than most folks who claim to be law-abiding. It's a strange dichotomy that keeps your mind spinning as much as your heart.

As you sit there, his presence enveloping you like a warm blanket, he shifts slightly, closing the small gap between you even more. "Eliza," Arthur whispers, his voice low and warm. Your eyes remain locked with his pools of marine as you remain still, letting him draw nearer to you. Your breath hitches when his arms graze your skin as he supports himself to come even closer. He leans in and, sensing no resistance, he kisses you tenderly. He exhales slowly, and you feel yourself relaxing, as though put under a spell. 

Parting, his lips follow your jawline to your neck. “Tell me you want me as much as I want you…” he whispers, and you feel his hand go to your thigh, letting his instincts take over, gently caressing your skin upwards. “Or I will stop.” Though he prays that you won't. 

His breath against your skin and his hands on your thigh sends shivers down your spine, and you tremble under his touch. Your body is already giving its answer before you can respond.

But you manage the words. “I do…”

And that is enough.

***

A sudden chill stirs you to awaken and your instincts kick in fully. You rise, pulling the wool blanket off of you. Your son isn’t here with you.

As your eyes adjust, you focus on the crib on the ground. And your heart sinks in your stomach.

Alice is gone. Panic surges through you like wildfire. Your breath comes in shallow gasps as you spring to your feet, the cold wooden floorboards creaking under your weight. "Alice!" Your voice is a desperate whisper, afraid to shatter the oppressive silence that has enveloped your small shelter.

You hurry to the canvas flap, ripping it open, and frantically scan over the camp. Your hair is unkempt, your feet bare, but you could care less.

Everything looks so calm. Why isn’t anyone frantically looking for your children? You haven’t expected anyone to share the load in looking after them, but you had hoped they had more common decency than to ignore a child’s absence. You stumble forward, each step sharp against the cold earth, your eyes darting from tent to tent.

"Isaac? Alice?" Your voice cracks as it rides the wind, finding no answer but the echo of your own fear. Your heart hammers in your chest, each beat growing louder and louder.

Then you hear laughter.

Child’s laughter.

You follow the sound eagerly, passing by Pearson as he chops up some rabbit meat. You walk around another tent and there, sitting on a log, is Arthur, hunched over, with Alice in his arms as Isaac leans into him and watches his little sister.

And Arthur’s feeding her.

You don’t recall ever purchasing a bottle. You never thought to. You have always been there to take care of your little ones. You’re confused, and it's a confusion that twists into a knot in your stomach. How did he get a bottle? The thought is quickly pushed aside as relief floods through you, seeing both of your children safe and sound.

Arthur looks up, catching your eye. His expression is unreadable for a moment before a slight smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “She’s eatin’ pretty good. Stopped by a dairy farm on my way back…”

You just stand there, trying to catch your breath and blink away the tears before he can tell how worried you’ve been. He gestures for you to come closer with a tilt of his head, and you do, your feet moving on their own accord. The tension in your body eases as you approach them, the sight of their innocent faces erasing the terror that had gripped your heart moments ago.

“Oh?” Your voice is soft, almost inaudible, words hardly coming easily to you.

He nods. “Yeah. Just thought…” His voice trails off as he looks at his daughter. “Just thought I’d help out a little. Your hands are full all the time…”

Isaac looks up at you, beaming brightly like the morning sun. “And I can feed her now, Mommy!”

Your heart swells with a mix of emotions. Pride in Isaac's newfound responsibility, relief at the sight of your children safe and smiling, and an underlying current of frustration that Arthur had taken such liberties without consulting you first. But the comfort of seeing them all together, a semblance of a family, dulls its sharper edges. “I guess you can now.”

Arthur looks up at you again, his eyes softening. “I hope you don’t mind. I didn’t wanna overstep, but—”

You cut him off simultaneously along with your own thoughts. “No, Arthur. You’re her father. If you want to be a part of her life and help, why should I be the one to stop you?” His gaze lingers on you, searching for any trace of insincerity. Perhaps he finds none, for he nods slowly, a shadow of relief passing over his features. Then his attention shifts back to Alice, who is now peacefully relaxed in his arms, her suckling now to a halt.

You watch him as he takes the bottle away and sets it down between his feet. 

And just as you’re about to open your mouth and tell him to burp the baby, Arthur begins to carefully lift Alice, still cradling her head in his large hand. He lays her against his chest, with her little head peeking over his shoulder. She begins to grunt and wriggle but his hold remains firm, but gentle. After getting himself comfortable, he begins to pat her back in a steady pattern. You watch as he listens to her, waiting for her to burp. 

After a few seconds, he looks up at you, his brows raised. “Ain’t you gonna tell me if I’m doin’ it right?” He chuckles. “Or wrong? I ain’t the expert in this.”

“Neither am I…” You swallow, then clear your throat. “You’re doing fine.”

He relaxes at your words and his smile broadens. “That’s a relief.”

And to validate his statement, Alice lets out a deep burp. Arthur is caught by surprise, his eyes widening. “Well, I’ll be damned…”

Alice scrunches her little legs as she lets out another burp. Isaac giggles, covering his mouth. “She burped again…!”

Arthur supports Alice as he brings her away from his shoulder and sets her in a sitting position on his lap. He looks at her eagerly and Alice tries to look up at him and when their eyes meet, she smiles. 

“Hey, there…!” Arthur coos. “You done stuffin’ your face?”

Alice breathes excitedly, hungry for engagement. 

Arthur nods. “I thought so.” He turns to see Isaac trying to get a better look and he leans on his side towards his son, bringing Alice closer. “You wanna say hi to your brother?”

Isaac reaches up to take Alice’s hand, her fingers readily grabbing onto his forefinger. “Hi, Alice!”

Alice smiles again and coos, wriggling in Arthur’s hands. 

You feel another chill and are suddenly reminded of your bare feet and cold hands. You shiver and hug yourself tightly. You could leave to grab a coat and put on your boots, but you can’t bring yourself to leave. 

Arthur’s eyes meet yours again and his smile falls. “You’re shiverin’,” he speaks, his voice softer than the breeze that chills you. “You can borrow my coat, if you want.”

You shake your head. “No, that’s okay, Arthur.” 

“Do you need me to buy you one?”

You shake your head again, your stubbornness coming out. “No, I don’t.”

Isaac stands straight up, his eyes bright. “I’ll go get it, Mommy!!”

Before you can protest, Isaac dashes off toward the direction of your wagon, his small boots kicking up dead grass as he runs. Arthur watches him go with a fond expression, then turns back to you, his face etched with concern.

"C'mon, Eliza," he urges gently, shifting Alice to one arm so he can extend the other towards you. "Don't be stubborn now. It's cold out here and it ain't good for you."

You relent, moving closer to accept Arthur’s outstretched arm. You feel his gentle pull and go to sit down beside him. As he drapes his arm around your shoulders, warmth seeps into your skin from his body, comforting yet reminding you of the many nights spent alone, questioning where he was, if he was safe. The weight of his presence is both a relief and a stark reminder of the precariousness of your lives intertwined with his outlaw ways.

Arthur's hand rubs your arm, trying to generate warmth, his fingers brushing past the fabric of your dress. "Better?" he asks you and as you turn to look at him, you find that your mouth is very close to his.

You can see the smoke of his breath, the color of his eyes. You’re so close, yet so far away.

You quickly look away, reaching over to your daughter to adjust the blanket that he has wrapped around her. “Yeah,” you exhale. “Better.”

The silence that follows is thick, laden with unspoken words and tension that you could almost reach out and touch. As the quiet stretches, Arthur's gaze lingers on you, searching your face for something —perhaps forgiveness, or understanding, maybe even reassurance that despite everything, you still want him here.

Suddenly, Isaac returns, dragging your coat but not for lack of effort to carry it in his arms. “Here, Mommy!”

You put on a smile and quickly rise to your feet. Isaac holds up the coat for you, and you gladly lift it to slip your arms through the sleeves. You feel warmer now, but your feet are still neglected.

You turn to look back at Arthur. Whatever moment was blossoming, it is gone now. “I’m going to go put on my shoes,” you say. “I can take Alice…”

Arthur doesn’t move. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to keep her a little longer.”

You nod, understanding the unsaid words between you; he needs this time as much as she does. Without saying anything, you leave Alice with Arthur and walk back towards your wagon. Isaac, sensing the shift in mood, falls into step beside you, his small hand finding yours.

***

“What you got there?” Hosea’s familiar inquisitiveness gets Arthur’s attention and he turns to look over his shoulder.

“Just a baby,” Arthur answers casually.

Hosea clicks his tongue. “I don’t think that’s just any baby, is it? Didn’t take you for a kidnapper, Arthur.”

Arthur chuckles at his father’s joke and looks back around to the baby in question. “No. I ain’t that.”

Hosea sits down beside him with a soft groan and pats his leg. “Can I see her?”

Arthur nods, his eyes softening as he gently shifts Alice in his arms to give Hosea a better look. The old man's face wrinkles into a smile as he peers down at the sleeping child.

"She's got your eyes,” Hosea remarks, his voice a whisper as if afraid to startle her. “Thank God she’s blessed with her mother’s looks otherwise.”

Arthur studies his daughter. It’s true she has her mother’s hair and chin, but he can’t help but feel like he sees himself in her. Isaac takes mostly after you, aside from his hair and desire to grow up too fast. Maybe that’s a good thing. The more he sees of himself in his offspring, the more anxious he feels. “Yeah, good thing.”

Hosea senses the shift between them and places a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I was only kidding, son.”

“I was hopin’ you wasn’t.”

Hosea leans back, studying Arthur. “You mean to say you don’t want her to be yours?”

Arthur quickly turns his head, eyes wide and brows furrowed. “Hell, no! That ain’t what I’m sayin’!”

Hosea holds up his palms. “Alright, alright, Arthur. I believe you. Just figured any good father would be proud to see himself in his little ones.”

Arthur looks down at his daughter, who is still looking up at him, her eyes still that dusky baby blue. He knows enough to understand that they change, like Isaac’s did, from the grayish blue into the amber brown that match yours. Maybe Alice won’t have her father’s eyes after all. 

“I ain’t like most fathers,” he says soberly. 

Hosea clicks his tongue. “No, I suppose you ain’t. But not many fathers are making the effort like you are.”

“I should be doin’ more,” Arthur confesses, the words heavy as they leave his lips. “Eliza, she…” He swallows thickly as he looks at the chubby-cheeked face of his daughter. “She needs more than what I can give her.”

Hosea gives Arthur a pat on the back, the gesture firm yet comforting. "She needs you, that's the most important thing. And you're here now, ain't that worth something?"

Arthur shrugs slowly, his gaze lingering on Alice's calm face. "I just don't want ‘em to live the life I was thrown into. They got a choice and I want them to have somethin’ different.”

“What about you?”

That question has many meanings and Arthur is afraid of all of them. He swallows. “What you mean?”

Hosea’s eyes are gentle but piercing, like he's digging for something deeper within Arthur. “What life do you want for yourself, Arthur? You think that you can’t choose something different?”

Arthur shifts uncomfortably, the weight of his father’s question stirring an uneasiness within him. “It ain’t that simple.”

“Sure it is.”

Arthur feels his hackles rise and tries to keep his voice calm for the sake of his daughter. “You tried to leave, and look how that turned out…! You’re still here, and Bessie’s dead!”

The words cut through the air sharper than any bullet could, and for a moment, everything seems to stand still. Hosea’s expression hardens, his eyes losing their gentle probing and settling into a deep sorrow. There's a painful history there, one that wraps itself like a noose around their interactions, tense and suffocating. Hosea hasn’t touched a bottle in a few weeks, but now, with Arthur’s harsh words, the temptation might tug stronger than before. Hosea’s hand, trembling slightly, lowers to his side as he takes a deep breath to steady himself.

“You think I don’t know that?” Hosea’s voice is low, almost a whisper. “You think I don’t feel that every single day?” He pauses, collecting himself before continuing, his voice steadier now. "But Arthur, living with regret ain't the same as making a change. We've both seen enough of this life to know it's no future for the little ones." He nods toward Alice, who remains blissfully unaware of the gravity surrounding her. “Why would it be that way for their father?”

Arthur looks down at his daughter, blinking away at the guilt that threatens to leave his eyes. “They ain’t the only ones who need me.” His voice is barely audible above the soft wind. The words hang there, heavy with unspoken truths.

Hosea nods slowly, understanding more than Arthur might wish he did. "That's right, son. Everyone seems to depend on you. But so does Eliza."

The mention of your name stirs something deep inside him. The memories of moments that you both shared before any of this ever happened. Oh, how he wishes he could go back, maybe find an easier way to disappear.

But he can’t.

Arthur struggles to find the words. “I just…I can’t…”

Hosea places a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “When it comes down to it, who would you choose? The gang, or your flesh and blood?”

Is blood thicker than water? What does he mean when it comes down to it? Does he see something that Arthur doesn’t? Sure, things aren’t ideal, but they aren’t in any immediate danger. They left California before any law got their scent. You are safe. Your children are safe.

The only enemy right now is the weather and the ever-present desire to be free. Hosea leans close, lowering his voice. “If Eliza and the children had died, would you have regretted your choice?”

Arthur doesn’t have an answer. “I…just can’t be two people at once.”

Hosea's eyes narrow, his face creasing with years of wisdom and untold stories. "No one is asking you to be two people, Arthur. Just the right one." His words cut through the cool air like a blade, precise and with intention.

The right one. “And which one is that?”

“I think you already know the answer to that.” Hosea rises to his feet. “You may have others fooled, but you’re smarter than you like to let on.” He looks down at the bright-eyed baby and smiles softly. “She’s truly something, that one.”

And with nothing further to say, he walks away.

Thank you for reading! I look forward to hearing what you think!

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