#their relationship in season 1 is just so painful and broken

[iceunhie]

[ 3 + 1 ].

premise. in which entails your daily life being in a relationship with the one and only eccentric wanderer. (alternatively: wanderer's love for you comes in many forms. you welcome them all the same.)

warnings: established relationship, hurt-comfort, slice of life, wanderer is called kuni. jealousy (wanderer), angst. FLUFF fluff fluff. wanhida family goals

a/n: ITS SCARAMOUCHE WANDERER SEASON his event broke me btw [in tears]

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# observation one: unconventionally clingy

early on in your relationship, this side of the wanderer remains quite privy to himself alone. this is because he has a very, very uncanny similarity to an aggressive and guarded cat that hisses when given an ounce of affection.

this does not mean he doesn't like your outlandish and grand displays of affection, though; its actually the opposite. (LOL)

the true crux of the matter lies in his inability to let down his guarded pride to admit that he thinks your affection is his lifeblood. (basically, “ew, affection... do it again”)

he's a menace (affectionate), and if you were one for critiquing that aspect of his character, you wouldn't have been in a relationship with him by now, anyway.

however—there is always a however when it comes to him—this does not mean that wanderer doesn't come across points of anxiousness over the fact that his less than affable personality may be something you will grow sick of one day.

he knows he isn't the best choice of a romantic partner; seriously, what were you even thinking... but when he establishes that you are indeed now an irreplaceable part of his life (which will take a long time, good luck), he clings to you with a fierce desperation underneath all that thorn and bristle.

this is part of his visceral fear of abandonment—you are the one thing that he adores, cares for with his entire being (nahida as a close second), and to watch you slip away from him due to his own misgivings will spell out a death sentence for him.

(so please, treat him gently; cradle his cracked palms and broken psyche, and slowly, emphasis on slowly, but surely, he will learn to return in kind.)

this ‘clinginess’ comes forth in his proximity to you. once he has felt comfortable with your relationship, wanderer is quite unafraid to show how touchy he is in his own way.

whether that is to get groceries in your shared home, following after you like a second shadow when you go to the grand bazaar, or even shooing away people that harass you (tba), the wanderer's gaze and all his efforts are always directed to your will.

(you dubbed this as ‘scary cat boyfriend privilege’—and are rewarded with a painful flick to the forehead. ouch.)

—☆★☆—

“where are you going?” the slender hand that stops you from leaving your comfy bed does little to help your need to fall back into the blissful arms of sleep.

“just going to go get some water, kuni.”

waking up to the sight of the wanderer in all his divine glory certainly isn't one of the things you expected in your life, but you welcome it all the same. leaving a simple kiss to his forehead, you pry your hand away with a gentleness you reserve only for him.

he flushes, a lovely red adorning cheeks, to the span of his neck. oh, how you love seeing him melt.

“you won't take too long?”

he doesn't need to breathe, but he sucks in a breath anyway, face twisting to a deep set frown—your telltale sign that your kunikuzushi had a nightmare.

an unanswered question. you won't leave?

your hand caresses the silky soft strands of his purple hair, that in which wanderer nuzzles into. he doesn't seem keen on telling you, and you respect that. you'd wait for him as long as he'd like.

“of course i will. not going anywhere, silly.”

why would i? you convey in that same gesture. i love you.

the tightness of his face relaxes, his grip on your hand loosening. right—you weren't. (you were not going to abandon him.)

“hurry up and come back, then. it's far too early.” his voice is still thick with sleep, though that doesn't temper his signature sass at all.

i love you too. goes unsaid.

your grin sharpens, teasing. “aww, don't miss me too much, okay?”

anddd there's the signature scowl. “...never mind, don't come back.”

“hey!”

shuffling to hide his face from you, wanderer sports a genuine smile, hidden from your sight.

because in your presence, the wanderer stills, and all thoughts of a doomed eternity fall short of how he commits himself to you—wanderer loves and loves, loves you, for you nestle in the space his heart was meant to be, holding onto the mere wisps of your identity and weaving it into the mosaic of his soul.

it's silent save for when you plop yourself back to the bed, bearhugging wanderer and complaining about waking up early again because you stayed up all night playing tcg with him. (he's at 10 wins and 5 losses and he was not going to be caught lacking).

“you do realize that's entirely your fault, right?” he gloats. “it's not my fault my card bested that lawachurl of yours.”

“what?! no way, mister! my all geo team is still superior, mind you-”

once, wanderer wondered about the concept of infinity.

everlasting devotion. of unabashed care and trust. as he listens to your ramblings as the night falls to day, he figures that what you currently share fits that concept just fine.

# observation two: (very) jealous tendencies

it isn't in wanderer's intention to be jealous. well, so he says.

really, he isn't! after all, what was there to be jealous of? absurd! looks, intellect, an extensive range of vocabulary not limited to insults and creative verbal attacks; wanderer boasts quite the sizable number of pros that get most people falling at his feet. (his outward personality leaves much to be desired, however, but his snark does have a certain charm. probably).

and of all the bashful akademiya seniors and well-intentioned young women (and men), you managed to get into a relationship with this black cat of a derisive puppet. this is an achievement worthy of celebration, for not just anyone can take the wanderer and burrow into his many, many guarded walls and claim the title of being his lover.

yet, wanderer is the more jealous one in the relationship.

he knows that you won't cheat on him, and trusts that you won't look at others in such a way. but still, your boyfriend can't help but doubt. be patient when working out his jealousy, for it is a double edged sword—on one hand, wanderer was so adorable when he was jealous; sulky, clingy, hot you name it! and it was very flattering, knowing that he loved you enough to want to keep you all to himself.

but, the other side was quite... a piece of work. should you attempt to tease him about such a thing, it ends in three ways. one, him flying off to god knows where and leaving you alone (😐), two, restricting you from hugging and giving him affection (😭), and worse, giving you the silent treatment (😨). choose your ammunition wisely.

and from this, be prepared for the wanderer to monopolize your attention all to himself— with said admirers mysteriously off the grid or too afraid to approach you for fear of his wrath. i'll say it once: a jealous wanderer is a force to be reckoned with. (and we love him for it)

(he was chided endlessly by nahida for this; “you're scaring all the researchers that want to do a thesis review with [name]!” she says.

a sly smirk was his only reply).

—☆★☆—

“what, and here i thought he had more bark left in him.” wanderer huffs haughtily, with the researcher dashing away as if his life depended on it.

“you'll get scolded by nahida again, you know. i don't think the dendro archon's trusted aide should boast a terrifying reputation.”

he snorts. “lesser lord kusanali has better things to do than chide me for harassment.”

“but you don't have better things to do than scaring away poor kimiya?”

that gets you an eye roll that could reach massive highs of ‘what about it?’ from your boyfriend. “you're overthinking.” (translation: you're right).

“uh huh, sure i am.”

“whatever. who you talk to and interact with is none of my concern. it's not like i care about such things anyway.” he retorts. “i'm not possessive.”

so he says. “by the way, his pickup line was pathetic—‘are you anemo because your beauty blows me away’? atrocious.”

your eyebrow raises in return. really, who was speaking about “not caring” and then judging right after? well, it's fine because he was kinda right.... cyno would definitely get along with that guy.

“it was sincere! i think he has to be commended for his efforts, no?”

“you call that effort?” his face scrunches to a dissatisfied frown.

kinoya, kimiya—he doesn't even remember his name anymore. wanderer doesn't care for those that waste his time, and more especially to those that attempt to get close to you in particular. honestly, what a cheap trick.

and you! you were seriously humoring that moony researcher earlier. you even smiled at him! wanderer seethes, crossing his arms. “its quite irritating, knowing that they flock to you under the guise of—what was it he said? right, ‘shared academic pursuits.’ it was too obvious.”

“first of all: that's rude, second, he really needed help! anyone would feel sorry for him.” you tut, pinching the smooth of wanderer's palm. you wisely decide not to comment on how he immediately interlocks hands with you.

you snicker. “and he was only asking for advice on his research topic, silly.”

“hah! how nice — you're defending him now.” it's incredible how wanderer has the uncanny ability to be just like an annoyed cat that dunked itself into a bucket of cold water; and the way he frowns at you only makes you let out an even worse fit of laughter.

wanderer drinks in the sound, resonating it with the beat of his soul, your laugh the heartbeat echoing deep within his veins. he is reduced to nothing with you—with you, his face relaxes; wanderer may be indifferent to humans, but with you, your mere existence is enough for him to falter like a human, weaken like a human.

and weakly, perhaps in an attempt to save face, he speaks, “you didn't deny it.”

“deny what?”

“...defending him.” (if he were a cat, his ears would definitely fall flat right now).

you let out another light laugh, but sparing your lover the torment, you cling to the side of his arm instead.

“i never had such intentions.” stating it quite firmly, “i'm only saying that there's no competition to be made, darling.”

he gives you a skeptical look in return. “was there even any?”

“none at all.” you lean closer to him, and the wanderer leans into the touch of your hand on his cheek. “since you're winning.”

the flustered blush you receive and the subconscious squeeze of his hand in yours conveys all you need to say.

that did the trick. wanderer's smile is satisfied—smug. “clearly, you managed to make the right call for once.”

“well, i could hardly resist you.”

afterwards, you note that the wanderer's pace doesn't seem as fast as usual anymore. no matter the jaw dropped stares of others at the two of you cozying up together, he never let go of your hand once.

(the next day, kimiya comes to you with a sheepish smile saying that he'd like to focus on his own without your help.

“was it your doing?” you look at the wanderer by your bedside table fastening his vision in pace, voice deadpanning.

“hah? why would i waste my time over some insignificant mortal?” he replies, but as he's putting on his hat, you see him smile to himself.

that little...)

# observation three: secretly? protective/considerate (green flag!!)

if you ask anyone who knows the wanderer on a personal note, you'd find out that he is, indeed, quite considerate—hidden underneath alllll that snark and aloofness and haughtiness, the wanderer cares for those who have helped him in some way, and with you as his partner (romantic), that care is multiplied tenfold hundredfold.

this quality of his, despite being endearing on paper and practice, is reminiscent of that of an aggressive mother hen; if you count wanderer as a hen that pecks someone incessently to show his care.

he chides you like an exasperated young maiden, but the soft way he handles your bruised arm littered with injuries from your recent run in with some strange fontainian seahorse contradicts his harsh scoldings.

(“bested by a fish? are you serious?”

“excuse you, i needed to get it's horns for materials, okay?!”

“...remind me why i'm stuck with an idiot for a companion.”

“uh, because i have a great personality, and you love me?”

“a decision i've made that's quite hard to defend, honestly.”

you stick your tongue out at him. yes, his habits also become yours.)

or how he tells you you're hopeless at cooking, but always manages to excuse himself to cook for you the moment he notices even the slightest decline in your health. one concern though; he throws the bento towards your head—so minus points for domesticity. (...he has cut heart shapes into the vegetables before and has never been the same since.)

if there's anything you can count wanderer for, he will do it. you could ask him to attempt to pluck the very fabric of reality for you, string together the stars and leave them at your feet, and he will do so, huffing all the while (he never means it). he's just smitten like that; not that he would ever verbalize it—yet. his hushed and vulnerable whispers of asking you to let him stay by your side are your closest road to his admittance.

he will not serenade you with ‘shallow declarations of love,’ as he tells you, but you know that he will always be there for you, for better or for worse.

—☆★☆—

fury is an emotion wanderer was once very accustomed to—it reminds him of electric violet, of three betrayals and of yearning for a constitution he was never fated to reach.

and fury tugs at the strings of his being the moment he sees the droplets of tears fall from your eyes, blurring your vision.

“who did it?” something bitter and violent manifests in his countenance, his vision pulsing angrily with gales threatening to harm. (it does not harm you, though. it never does.) “who did this to you?”

his grip on your shoulders tightens the more you refuse to answer, both from anger and fear. you're never this silent; and his panic increases when you opt to bury yourself in his neck. wanderer sighs.

“hey. i'm asking who made you cry like this, idiot.”

“...”

“fine, i won't call you an idiot, then.” but impatient way he speaks the syllables that make your name betrays his worry. “just talk to me.”

“...can we just stay here like this?”

“....”

“sorry, that was a little-” you say, voice strained, pulling away; but the wanderer tugs you close, allowing you to hide from the world that seems so out to get you. (he knows that feeling well, after all.)

it's he who entangles himself with you, listening to the steady rise of your heartbeat, wiping away your tears.

“i didn't say you couldn't hug me, stupid. it's fine. do as you like.”

if it were a person that did this to you, that would've been better murder was never really out of the table with him, but when faced with something he is unable to solve for you; whether it be a bad day, bad luck, or even something he cannot control, wanderer finds himself at a loss.

because the concept of love, with you, is foreign—terrifying, even. betrayal and scorn were his guiding compass, and to be rid of it and to be seen by you, held by you, and to know that you were not going to follow in the footsteps of those he once clung to was far too good to believe. (yet he tries. for you.)

returning your embrace only passively, he tries to scramble for words of comfort—and when he fails to find the nerve to do so, he does the only thing he can allow himself to do.

with the kindness and gentleness he fostered (still fosters, thanks to you) from his memories as the kabukimono, the wanderer holds you, if only to remind himself of his place by your side, unchanging and adamant—as you remind him of his place beside yours.

he leads you to calm yourself down, albeit roughly as he tells you to stop fussing over trying to help him get you something wipe your tears with—and for all his flushed visage, he lets you cling to him, seeking his comfort.

i'm here, it goes unsaid. wanderer knows you'd pick up on it anyway. please talk to me.

(“if i die from this, i'll come haunt you as a ghost.” you shake like a leaf in his arms, clutched tight and staring at anywhere but the ground. who comforts someone by putting them almost 80 feet up in the air? heights are so not your thing.

“like i'd let you.” wanderer says, rolling his eyes. “and you're shaking too much. just keep your eyes on me, will you?”

“...was that flirting?”

“i will drop you.”

“wait, i'm kidding!” a particular breeze leaves you in goosebumps, with wanderer tightening his grip on you. “don't let me fall, please?”

“are you stupid?” he snaps, but urges you to look at the sight of the sunset on the horizon. his hold is more gentle this time, too. “why would i let you fall? now stop shaking and hold on to me.”

you think you fell just a little harder for him that day.)

—and if you decide to press a kiss to the back of his nape as a way of thanks, you're rewarded with a playful gale and a little zap to deter you in response.

“watch it, [name].” he says, but the shifty eyed way he doesn't meet your eyes isn't fooling anyone here; neither is the red on his cheeks. “you're too close.”

“hehe, sorry, sorry, couldn't resist.”

nonetheless. he supposes the growing smile on your face in place of your tears are sufficient payment for wanderer's efforts. hmph.

he'll let it slide for today.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

# deciding conclusion: totally in love with you (real not clickbait)

saying it outright: being with the wanderer is not a smooth road. it is full of hardships, hurt, and learning. there will be many times when his built in self destruction (read: abandonment issues) will kick in, hurting you in the process.

getting him to say ‘i love you’ will seem impossible at first, and there will be times when his doubt pierces your heart and renders it tattered to pieces. he's doing his best chat, pls help him

he will not be able to utter sweet words of adoration like you do, or return your embrace as easily as you would with him—and there will be many moments when he will feel as if he's not enough.

but nourish your affections, stay consistently by his side, show him that he is worth loving, worth staying for, and like the foundations of a steadily built tower, his trust and love for you too will grow.

(it will sometimes feel tiring, it will feel hopeless, and it's more than what you've bargained for, but it will all be worth it in the end.)

because you know he cares; it's in the way his expression morphs into helplessness when he sees your face fall in an argument, how he doesn't push you away when you kiss him and shower him with hugs, and when his hands lock tightly in yours in a sea of people, with you only in his sights. how his eyes betray him to look at you with fondness and warmth.

(it's wordless whenever wanderer decides to hold you tight at night, hugging you like his last lifeline. especially after a disagreement, with only the quietude of the night to observe.

he said some hurtful words today. that much he knows.

“are you asleep?” his voice is muffled against your shirt, and he may not need to breathe, but he inhales your scent anyway, memorizing the sight of you in his arms like a promise. “...you probably are.”

silence. “i'm sorry.”

“.....”

his lip trembles, his grasp on your arms bruising if not for your non-awareness. there's a wetness growing against your shirt, and small sniffles.

“i'm sorry.” and gently, so gently, wanderer presses his forehead against your shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of your body. “i shouldn't have snapped at you and told you those sorts of things.”

i'm sorry i hurt you.

please stay.

please don't let go of me.

i need you.

i love you.

when morning comes, you wake up to the sight of the wanderer in your bed, face nuzzled in your chest.

there are tearstains on his face.)

getting him to be open and vulnerable is akin to keeping a rusty, torn boat afloat; it will not be easy, no, but you know that he tries, (so very hard) to make it work. that he fights desperately against his own clumsily strung tethers and rebuilds himself anew, if only to understand and perceive you—to love you as you deserve.

and when that time comes, wanderer will cling to you, desperately, completely, and make sure your efforts will never ever make you regret giving him the chance to open up and be with you.

—☆★☆—

“what would happen if we ever broke up?”

dropping such a bombshell in the middle of having the wanderer on your lap was not how he thought things would go to, granted how pleasant the atmosphere was—he'd agreed to going on a much needed date (your words) with you after lesser lord kusanali had just graded him on one of his essay papers. (he got an a, obviously)

you don't think you've ever seen such a distraught look cross wanderer's face—aside from the time you finally beat him at tcg (5 out of 4); and you've never seen him look so angry either.

rather, he looked scared.

“what brought this idea on?” he tries to lodge out the words, trying to act coherent. but underneath, a storm brews—his hands are shaking. wanderer feels like he's swallowed a bag full of needles.

am i not doing enough? was i too harsh on them when i scolded them for fighting that damn mechanical desert robot? he's scared. or... do they really....

the mere idea of you being tired of him—sick of him, and ready to leave him behind leaves an ugly, disgusting feeling. like acid on his skin.

perhaps, you don't love him anymore? wanderer panics, senses going overdrive. was it that argument months ago when he hurt your feelings? he knows you know he apologized, and he's doing everything in his power to make sure he wasn't repeating that mistake anymore—but why would you say this out of nowhere?

or maybe it's because he didn't notice you feeling uncomfortable in your relationship? no, you would have definitely told him if so. then what is it? you don't just say things like this out of nowhere so seriously-

“i mean... at this point, i think i wouldn't ever want to break up with you.”

“...what?” wanderer blinks.

“you heard me.” cupping the sides of his face with your hands, you restate your words with more vigor. eyes determined. “i don't think i've ever loved someone so much as i love you. heck, not even close! kuni, if we break up, i might actually never recover.”

and the wanderer falls. how could you even say such a thing?

“that's... you're shameless.” he states it like an insult, but his hands go up to hide his eyes, hiding his embarrassment from your romantic words. “why would you even say something so out of pocket like that? you utter fool. you almost made me think i-”

- would lose you. even thinking it made him feel nauseous.

“why are we still dating then? but really, i mean it. i love you too much.” you coo, and that, in return, leads the wanderer to release an exasperated, weary sigh. if he were human, he's sure his blood pressure would never be normal because of you.

but contrary to his attitude, he relaxes his face and allows you to hold him. lightens up, even. you continue, rambling on, “be honest, you know you love me.”

“unfortunately.”

and that brings out such a bright and dazzling smile on your face that the puppets sarcastic smile is replaced by a real one when you huff and smack at his head. (all is well.)

“you're so unromantic.”

indeed, being with this strange, eccentric puppet was certainly a challenge in more ways than one. nonetheless, you know he cherishes you—because with you, the wanderer is different. he's bristly, infuriating, and honestly a pain (lovingly), but he cares for you.

he tells you to stop ogling at his pretty face and do the dishes, yet he never minds the attention at all. he tells you that you were a fool for accidentally getting yourself injured by eremites because you wanted to save some fungi, but follows you anyway and makes sure no one messes with you.

he says he probably wouldn't miss you while you're gone, but is always the first person you see when you return to sumeru city. it's these little things that make you love him, and you know the feeling is mutual—even if he'll act indifferent about it in the meantime.

“hey, kuni?”

wanderer's eyes are closed, serene. once he knew that you were not, in fact, going to break up with him, he relishes the feeling of his head resting on your lap. it was safe, warm, and everything to him; but he'd rather let the world burn before he tells you. “what?”

“thank you for letting me love you.”

....

“...idiot.” is all he says. you can feel him shift to the side so you won't see his face. “you don't have to thank me for that. that's so sappy...”

(and if you ever saw the slight sheen of glossiness in his eyes, you keep it to yourself.)

i should be thanking you. he thinks instead. i'm glad you love me.

so many things pop up in his head for this, so many unspoken words—and he may not be able to convey such things to you; he might never be able to, but you know that he loves, loves, and adores you.

because you accepted his past, his sins and his imperfections and treated him with tenderness and care. and you know that no matter how many sides of the wanderer you have yet to explore, you will love each one.

and that is enough for him to never let go.

a/n: IM CRYING I FINISHED THIS RIGHT ON TIME AFTER HIS EVENT and his growth has come so far,,, so proud of him 🥹

[rafesbabygirlx]

I’ll Always Help You

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Rafe x Maybank reader

Summary: A one shot flashback to a time Rafe was there for Maybank Reader after another altercation with Luke. Based off my series A Lot of Time has Passed.

A/N: I really wanted to delve into a past life time for these two and show parts of their relationship in the past. I’d think of this around season 1 of the show. It came to me writing JJ’s angst.

Warnings: parental abuse, blood, bruising, pain

“You and Rafe bonded over the absence of your mothers and the shortcomings of your fathers. It was a match made in an unlikely paradise.”

╰☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆ ☆☆╮

You stumble up Topper’s long driveway, indifferent to the stares as people glance at your swollen eye and the way you’re clutching your ribs. You’re barely able to keep your balance, bouncing off people as you make your way inside. The pain in your side is sharp and constant—a reminder that at least one rib is likely broken.

Normally, you’d call in a moment like this, but Luke destroyed your phone while chasing you around the living room, leaving you with no other option. Lightheadedness creeps over you just as you spot Kelce through the crowd. You reach out, tapping him on the shoulder. “Kelce, where’s Rafe?”

He turns, half-joking, “And who wants to know?” His smile fades the moment he sees you, reaching out just in time to catch you as you collapse into his arms. “Yo, Rafe!” Kelce yells, steadying you while looking around for his friend. “Rafe! Come on, man, it’s your girl!”

Rafe, distracted mid-conversation, barely registers Kelce’s shout. “What girl, Kelce?” he mutters, more focused on the blonde wrapped around him. But at Kelce’s insistence, he finally looks up—and his whole demeanor changes. “Holy shit,” he breathes, the color draining from his face as he sees you bruised and exhausted in Kelce’s arms. Without hesitation, he pushes the girl off him and heads toward you.

“Hey, hey, baby girl. Look at me,” he murmurs, pulling you close. Topper joins, concerned, and Rafe’s voice is tense. “Top, we need a room.”

“Yeah, follow me upstairs,” Topper replies, leading the way. Rafe scoops you up, carrying you carefully up the stairs while Kelce and Topper follow, the four of you disappearing into one of the guest bedrooms. Rafe lays you gently on the bed.

“R-Rafe?” you manage to whisper.

“Yeah, it’s me. Did he do this to you again?” His voice is low, filled with anger and worry. You don’t respond, just look down, unable to meet his gaze.

“I’ll get a first aid kit,” Topper says, disappearing into the bathroom. “I’ll grab some water,” Kelce offers, hurrying downstairs.

Rafe takes the kit from Topper when he returns, beginning to clean the cuts on your cheek. You hold a warm, damp washcloth he gives you over your swollen eye. “I’m sorry for bothering you,” you mumble, feeling the weight of guilt settle in.

“Don’t apologize. I’m always here for you.” He works carefully, his tone softening. “I just wish you’d called me. I would’ve come to get you.”

You shake your head slightly. “You know how you get when you’re high, Rafe. It would’ve made things worse. And…he broke my phone, so I couldn’t anyway.”

“Fucking asshole,” Rafe mutters, finishing up as Kelce returns with a glass of water. You take a few sips, nodding your thanks as Topper and Kelce quietly leave the room.

Rafe stays beside you, gently pulling the covers back. “We’re staying here tonight,” he insists, starting to untie your sneakers.

“No, Rafe. I can go back. He’s probably passed out by now, probably won’t even remember.”

“No. You’re staying here. You’re not arguing with me on this.” He’s already shedding his shirt and pants, getting down to his boxers as he turns to you with a determined look.

“Lift your arms,” he says, softly but firmly. You obey, letting him take off your shirt and replace it with his. Then he helps you out of your jeans, the familiar scent and warmth of his shirt wrapping around you like a safe haven.

He climbs in beside you, pulling you close so you can rest against his chest, the steady beat of his heart calming you. “I mean it,” he whispers. “Stay with me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Rafe. I don’t need to stay here.”

“What if I wanted you to?” he replies, his fingers brushing soothingly along your arm. “Just for a few days. Let me take care of you while you heal.”

You chuckle weakly. “What would people say about a battered Pogue girl walking out of your driveway?”

“I don’t give a shit what they’d say.” He pulls you closer, leaving gentle kisses on the top of your head. “Just stay, please. You know I’ve got you.”

“Okay,” you whisper, giving in to the comfort of his embrace. You drift off as he holds you close.

[godsfavdarling]

How could you? (pt.2)

my masterlist, part 1

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (established relationship) words: 1,8k summary: You're still hurt but you don't think you can let Spencer and your love for him go so easily. warnings: angst, hurt, spoilers for season 15! a/n: i'm so happy you guys liked the first part!!! i was asked to write part 2 and I was so flattered! thank you for all the love <3

The following days felt like walking through a dense fog, each step heavy with the weight of pain. You couldn't shake the image of JJ cupping his cheeks, and pressing her lips against his. It was a scene etched into your mind, haunting you like a relentless specter.

His lips. Lips that had whispered sweet nothings to you, that had traced patterns of love and affection on your skin. Lips that had promised forever in each kiss, now tainted by another's touch.

You couldn't comprehend how it had come to this. 

How could he allow someone else to invade the sacred space you had built together?

His lips for years had only ever kissed and worshiped yours. But now, everything felt ruined, tarnished by the image of her lips on his.

The questions swirled in your mind, each one more agonizing than the last. 

How could he betray you like this? Did he ever truly love you, or was it all just a lie?

The memory of Spencer's confession played over and over in your mind like a broken record, each word etched into your heart with painful clarity. 

You knew about his past with JJ, how he had loved her long ago, only to have his feelings unreciprocated. He had moved on from that chapter of his life, leaving behind the pain and heartache to build a future with you.

But seeing them together, so close, her hands on his beautiful face, her lips on his, it was clear that his feelings had not been one-sided.

He had bared his soul to you, laying bare the events of that hostage situation, recounting every detail with a raw honesty that left you reeling.

You remembered how he sat close to you with his hand on your lap as you cleaned his wound. Tears in your eyes as you played with his fingers and soaked in saline solution gauze. Staring at his hand you listened to every word, as he reassured you of his unwavering love. He had made it abundantly clear that his heart belonged to you and you alone. 

But did it?

The doubts crept in like tendrils of darkness, twisting and coiling around your heart with suffocating intensity. 

Had he truly moved on from his past with JJ? Or was it merely a facade, a carefully constructed illusion meant to shield you from the painful truth? 

The thought gnawed at you, clawing its way through the layers of your defenses until it settled like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach.

What if he still harbored feelings for her, buried deep beneath the surface of his professed love for you? What if JJ's sudden confession had reignited the flames of their past, offering him a chance to finally grasp the love he had always longed for?

The thought was like a dagger to your heart.

You wanted to believe in Spencer's love, to cling to the hope that his heart truly belonged to you and you alone. 

But what if it didn’t?

As you grappled with the pain and confusion, a part of you yearned for answers, while another recoiled from the truth you might uncover. But one thing was certain: the image of her lips on his would haunt you for a long time to come.

Could you ever forgive Spencer for what he'd done? And more importantly, did you even want to?

You couldn't help but wish for a sign of remorse from JJ. Spencer had reached out, extending an olive branch of love and reconciliation, despite the weight of his own guilt and regret. He had shown humility, acknowledging his mistakes and expressing his desire to make things right.

But JJ remained silent, her absence a stark contrast to Spencer's efforts to mend the fractured pieces of your relationship. Perhaps she was too embarrassed to reach out, too ashamed to face the consequences of her actions. 

How could she have the audacity to remain silent, to act as though nothing had happened? 

It felt like a slap in the face, a cruel twist of fate that only served to deepen the wound.

The silence between you and Spencer was deafening, each moment stretching into eternity as Spencer waited for you to reach out. He knew he had hurt you, betrayed your trust in the worst possible way, and the guilt gnawed at him like a relentless beast.

He wanted to explain, to make you understand that it wasn't what it seemed. But every time he reached for his phone to call you a wave of uncertainty crashed over him, freezing his fingers before they could dial your number.

Spencer watched helplessly as you withdrew into yourself, your walls rising higher with each passing day. It tore him apart to see you in pain, knowing that he was the cause of it all.

He longed to reach out to you, to hold you close and beg for your forgiveness. But he knew that he had to give you space, to let you come to terms with what had happened in your own time.

As the days turned into weeks, Spencer found himself consumed by a sense of desperation. He would do anything to make things right, to earn back your trust and rebuild what you had lost. 

But deep down, he feared that it might already be too late.

Spencer's heart leaped with a sudden surge of hope as he saw your name flashing on his phone screen. Without hesitation, he snatched up the device, his fingers trembling as he answered the call.

The sound of your voice washed over him like a soothing balm, filling him with a sense of relief he hadn't realized he was craving. Your words, a simple request to meet and talk, sparked a glimmer of optimism within him, a flicker of hope that perhaps all was not lost.

But even as excitement bubbled up inside him, a familiar pang of doubt niggled at the edges of his consciousness. 

What if this meeting was merely a prelude to the inevitable, a final farewell before you walked away for good?

He pushed aside the nagging voice of uncertainty, choosing instead to focus on the warmth and sincerity in your tone. Maybe, just maybe, this was his chance to make things right, to lay bare his soul and beg for your forgiveness.

With newfound determination, Spencer agreed to the meeting, his heart pounding. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, but for the first time in days, he allowed himself to hope that perhaps, against all odds, you were willing to give him another chance.

The air was heavy with unspoken tension.

As you walked in, your eyes were immediately drawn to the spot where JJ and Spencer had kissed. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't look away.

You settled into the silence, your gaze drifting constantly to the spot where they stood. Where they stood when they kissed. This was the spot you saw them in as you walked through the door, the image of Spencer and JJ still burned into your mind's eye. Her lips on his. 

Spencer noticed the direction of your stare, the weight of your gaze heavy upon him like a silent accusation. 

With a gentle touch, he reached out and took your hand in his own, the warmth of his touch a soothing balm against the ache in your heart. Surprisingly, you didn't pull away. Allowing him to touch you, to bridge the divide that had grown between you, sent a rush of warmth through his veins, making his heart flutter with a glimmer of hope. 

In that simple gesture, there was a silent reassurance that you were still willing to give your love a chance.

"Hey," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that mirrored your own. "I know things are... complicated right now. But I want you to know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right."

The sincerity in his words washed over you like a wave, eroding the walls of doubt.

Despite the pain and betrayal, a flicker of hope ignited within you, a tiny spark of belief that perhaps, against all odds, you could find a way forward together. You loved him too much to let go without a fight. 

When you looked into Spencer's eyes that night, the night of the kiss, even then you saw not just the hurt and the regret, but also the love. Just as you do now.

Your mind was racing, your heart heavy with pain, but even then, you knew deep down that this couldn't be how your love story ended. It wasn't over yet. There were still chapters left to be written. And you still believed.

With a steadying breath, you squeezed Spencer's hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of the swirling chaos of your emotions. "I want us to be okay," you confessed, your voice trembling with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "I believe you. I just... I don't know what to do, Spencer."

Spencer's gaze softened with understanding, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "I know," he murmured softly.

You could see the turmoil in his eyes, the fear of losing you etched into every line of his face. And as much as you wanted to hold onto your pain and anger, you couldn't deny the love that still burned bright within you.

"But... I love you. Only you. And I don't want this to be over. If you don't want this anymore... I'll understand. Well, I don't, but I'll try to. But I don't want to. I love you too much. I want us to be okay too. And I'll do anything..." Spencer's voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around Spencer tightly, pulling him close in a silent embrace. You could feel the tension melting away with each passing moment, replaced by a sense of warmth and security that only he could provide.

"I'm sorry," he choked out between sobs, his voice heavy with regret. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you."

You said nothing, letting your actions speak louder than words. Gently, you brushed away the tears on his cheek.

You couldn't walk away, not when his love still held you captive, not when you knew deep down that you couldn't bear to be apart from him. 

You couldn't walk away. His love had woven itself into the very fabric of your being.

As much as your mind raced with questions and uncertainties, a quiet voice within you whispered that you believed him. You believed in the sincerity of his words, in the depth of his love, and in the possibility of you two being okay.

With every fiber of your being, you clung to that belief. 

[daryltwdixon]

Hello :)

Everything is also on Ao3

Longer Works

✦ complete ✧ in progress

✦ The Ruins of Us: Daryl has always been your lifeline, your escape from a broken home and a rough childhood on the wrong side of Atlanta, Georgia. No matter how hard things got, you had him, and he had you—until Officer Shane Walsh came along and turned your world upside down. As your bond with Daryl starts to unravel, so does the world around you. Now, in the midst of a post-apocalyptic nightmare, survival means more than just facing walkers. It’s about trying to mend your broken connection with Daryl while battling Shane’s increasingly aggressive behavior, which looms darker with each passing day. Important note: For this story's purpose, Daryl is in his 20s. Set during Seasons 1 & 2 of TWD: Reader Insert.

✦The Promise of Us: After the farm’s devastating fall, you’re forced to confront not only the dangers of the open landscape but the emotional weight that presses down on you every day. The distraction of survival left little room to process the pain and guilt that now linger beneath the surface. When the group discovers the prison, the urgency to survive finally eases, and the flood of emotions you’ve buried starts to rise. With the adrenaline gone, you’re left to face your grief, guilt, and shifting dynamics within the group. Relationships are tested in the wake of loss, and your inner struggle feels heavier than ever. Yet, through it all, there’s one bond you can always rely on: Daryl. Steady, unwavering, and your constant in a world of uncertainty, he might be the only thing keeping you grounded as you fight through the fog of grief and find your way back to yourself. Set in season 3 of TWD: Reader Insert.

✭ smut

Red Dress ✭

Sucker

The One on the Bike✭

Picture You✭

Worship✭

Kinktober masterlist✭

The Shower ✭

Requested (open!)

Double Lines

Live-In Bodyguard

Northern Lights

Angel ✭

I tend to post / reblog explicit writings, so please do not follow or interact if you are a minor. You will be blocked.

Just a quick heads-up: if you see me interacting from my main blog, @plzlou it’s because this is a side blog! There are some features that side blogs don’t have, so I’ll need to switch to my main account for certain actions, especially when it comes to liking posts & following.

I post about The Walking Dead. Please expect when you read for their to be canon-type violence (aka walker deaths, gore, smaller character deaths, etc). I will leave warnings for anything outside of the usual realm of the show like s/a, major character deaths, extreme gore. Please read with caution if that is not something you can handle!

And lastly, thank you so much for your love & support!! It means so much to me

[sundrop-writes]

Sundrop's Teen Wolf Masterlist

Protective - Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends. Hurt and Comfort. Set during Season 2, Episode 9. During Isaac's first full moon, he needs something to ground him - so he thinks of you. (2,300 words.)

BRAINWASHED - Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends/One-Sided Fantasies. Smut/PWP. Panty Stealing. Stiles has been in love with you for as long as he can remember, and since you both hit high school, that love has become perverted by hormones. But he can't help it. He also can't seem to help it when he steals a pair of your underwear that were seemingly laid out for him - but he can't get too caught up in the logistics when he has a hand around his cock. (8,000 words.)

Eager Little Puppy - Sub!Isaac Lahey x Dom!GN!Reader. Friends with Benefits. Smut/PWP. You offer to help Isaac relax, and it ends up being a night he did not expect, though he can't help but to love it. (2,700 words.)

Blood In The Water - Void!Stiles x Fem!Reader. (Pining) Best Friends to 'Lovers'. Pure Angst. Hurt No Comfort. Set during Season 3 (with flashbacks to Season 1). When Void takes control, you worry about the damage that he's inevitably doing to Stiles's body. So you make a deal with him - if he lets Stiles eat, then you'll feed Void with some of your pain. But it's not cuts or broken bones that he wants from you - it's your tears. (11,700 words.)

Why Am I The One? - Isaac Lahey x Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Smut. Set just post Season 3, Episode 4. After Issac is kicked out of Derek’s apartment with no reasoning and nowhere to go, he comes through a rainstorm soaking wet and finds his way to you. Freezing, alone, and looking desperate and sad - will you turn him away for cheating on you, or will you forgive him like you always do? (15,200 words.)

COMING SOON:

Stupid For You - Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader. Pining Best Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP. Sequel to the above fic. Stiles still has your underwear that he stole, and he accidentally drops them in the locker room - in front of the entire lacrosse team. He lies and says that he got them from a hook-up with you, and surprisingly - you cover for him? But only on the condition that you can turn his lie into the truth. (10,200 words est.)

Mister Mxyzptlk - Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader Blurb

(Un)Intimidated - Derek Hale x GN!Reader Blurb

Claustrophobia - Isaac Lahey x GN!Reader Blurb

How would Stiles Stilinski and Allison Argent react to seeing you naked by accident?

How would Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, and Derek Hale react to finding out that you're pregnant with their baby?

How would Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, and Derek Hale act while parenting your baby?

What kind of nicknames would Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin, Allison Argent, and Derek Hale like in a relationship?

What would Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes think of you wearing a necklace that represents them?

Isaac Lahey Intimacy and Kink Headcanons

I'm not that good at this yet. - Isaac Lahey Playlist

[hurtblossom]

Jealous ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x ex!Driver!Reader (Female)

Summary : She's jealous of the way hes happy without her. Or she thinks he is...

Warnings : angst, saddness, tears, terrible english, did i mention angst?

Masterlist

Labyrinth Jealous

The paddock was buzzing with the usual pre-race excitement, but I could barely focus on the chatter around me. My heart was somewhere else, trapped in the past where Lando and I used to be. We had shared so much in such a short amount of time, and yet here I was, watching everything crumble before me.

"I just can't do this anymore, Y/N," Lando had said, his voice breaking as he looked anywhere but at me. We were in his apartment, the place that had been our haven, now suddenly feeling cold and unfamiliar. I wanted to ask him why, to beg him to stay, but I could see it in his eyes—the decision was made. There was a finality in his tone that I had never heard before.

"What do you mean? We were fine… we were happy," I stammered, desperately searching for any sign that this wasn’t really happening. But he didn’t meet my eyes. Instead, he stared at the floor, his hands trembling as he tried to hold himself together.

"I'm jealous of the way you’re happy without me," I whispered, echoing the lyrics of the song that had been playing in the background. It felt like the universe was mocking me, as if the words were ripped straight from my heart.

But Lando didn’t hear my whisper. He just nodded, perhaps thinking I was accepting his decision. And then he left, taking with him the future I had dreamed of. The door closed behind him with a finality that echoed in the hollow silence of the room. I stood there for what felt like hours, unable to move, unable to process what had just happened. The life we had built, the love we had shared—it was all gone in an instant.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

I hadn’t seen Lando since that day. Our teams kept us busy, and I buried myself in work, trying to forget him. But every time I saw him on TV, or heard his name in the paddock, my heart ached. The pain was a constant, dull throb that refused to go away.

When I was around others, I wore a mask—smiling, laughing, pretending that everything was fine. But inside, I was broken. The nights were the worst. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, I was haunted by memories of us. His smile, his laugh, the way he used to look at me like I was the only person in the world.

We met again at the FIA Awards Gala. I was there to celebrate my first season as a Formula 1 driver, but all I could think about was him. I spotted him across the room, laughing with our mutual friends, looking as happy as ever. My chest tightened.

"I'm jealous of the nights that I don't spend with you," I thought to myself, the lyrics looping in my mind. I wanted to be the one making him laugh, the one he looked at with those bright eyes.

I tried to focus on the celebration, on the people congratulating me, but my eyes kept drifting back to him. He looked so carefree, so at ease, like he had moved on without a second thought. And when our eyes finally met, it was like time stopped. I forced a smile, but he quickly looked away, turning his attention back to the group around him. It was like I didn’t exist.

The rest of the night was a blur. I mingled with the crowd, nodded at the right moments, and even laughed when expected, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t shake the image of him smiling, the way he seemed so happy without me. It tore me apart.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

The final race of the season, and I was more focused than ever. Racing was my escape, my way of channeling all the pain. But as fate would have it, Lando and I were once again side by side on the grid.

As the lights went out, I pushed all thoughts of him aside and focused on the track. But even as I raced, weaving through the turns, I couldn’t help but think of him.

"I'm jealous of the love that wasn't here," I sang softly in my helmet during a quiet moment on the straight. Our relationship had been perfect, or so I thought. But now, all that was left was this hollow feeling, the lingering question of what went wrong.

We had started out as friends, both young and eager, navigating the pressures of Formula 1 together. Over time, that friendship had blossomed into something more. I had fallen for him so hard, so fast. And I thought he had fallen for me too. We had shared everything—our hopes, our dreams, our fears. But now, as I raced, all I could think about was how it had all been an illusion.

We both finished the race in the points, and as I pulled into the pit lane, I saw him a few cars down. He was smiling, celebrating with his team. I wanted to walk over, to congratulate him, to tell him how proud I was, but I stopped myself. What was the point? He didn’t need me. He didn’t want me. Instead, I pulled off my helmet and looked away, pretending to be caught up in my own debrief.

But as the adrenaline of the race faded, the reality of my situation hit me like a ton of bricks. Lando was happy. He was thriving, and I was just a distant memory. The pain was unbearable, but I swallowed it down, plastering a fake smile on my face as I went through the motions.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: * :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

The end-of-season break came, and with it, the unexpected. We were both attending a charity event, and this time, there was no avoiding him. The tension between us had been growing, but neither of us had made the first move to talk about it. Until now.

He approached me when I was alone, sitting by the garden at the back of the event. The night was cool, the air crisp with the promise of winter. I had been staring at the stars, lost in thought, when I heard his voice.

"Y/N," he started, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

"Lando," I replied, trying to keep my tone neutral, even though my heart was racing. I didn’t want to show him how much I was still hurting, how much I still cared.

He sat down next to me, leaving a small gap between us. "I’ve been thinking about us," he admitted after a long silence. "I didn’t handle things well."

"I’m jealous of the way you’re moving on," I found myself saying, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I hadn’t planned on being so vulnerable, but there it was. The truth.

He looked at me, his eyes full of something I hadn’t expected—indifference. "Y/N… I need to tell you something."

My heart sank as I watched him struggle to find the right words. "What is it?"

"I’ve met someone," he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Her name is Magui."

The world around me seemed to tilt, and for a moment, I thought I might be sick. "Magui?" I repeated, as if saying her name would make this nightmare real.

He nodded, unable to meet my eyes. "She’s… we’re together now."

"I'm jealous of the way you're happier," I thought, the lyrics stabbing through my heart like a knife. I had held on to hope, believing that we could somehow find our way back to each other. But that hope was gone now, shattered into a million pieces.

I forced myself to nod, to keep my composure. "I see. Well… I hope you’re happy, Lando."

He finally looked at me, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to heal the wound he had just inflicted. "I am," he said, and those two words broke me in a way I never thought possible.

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his confession hanging heavy in the air. I wanted to scream, to cry, to beg him to take it all back. But I knew it wouldn’t change anything. He had moved on. And I had to live with that.

"I’m glad you found someone," I managed to say, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to stay strong. "I really am."

"Y/N, I—" he started, but I cut him off.

"Please, don’t," I said, standing up and taking a step back. "I need to go."

He didn’t try to stop me, and that hurt even more. As I walked away, I felt the tears streaming down my face, blurring my vision. I had lost him. Truly lost him. And there was nothing I could do to change that.

As the year came to a close, I couldn’t help but think of the lyrics that had been my constant companion throughout this rollercoaster of emotions. "I'm jealous of the way you're happy without me," I had whispered months ago, and now, here we were, with him completely moving on, leaving me behind.

As I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, I let the tears fall freely. I cried for what we had lost, for the pain I had caused myself by holding on to hope, and for the love that would never be again. I cried until there were no more tears left, only an emptiness that I knew would take a long time to fill.

Lando had moved on, and now I had to find a way to do the same. But deep down, I knew that a part of me would always be jealous of the life he was living—one that didn’t include me.

And as I drifted off to sleep, the lyrics played in my mind one last time, a haunting reminder of what could never be: "I'm jealous of the way you're happier without me."

Charles version

[lvnleah]

Protective Love | Lia Wälti

Based on this request! :)

Summary: Reader gets injured during a game against Man United after a bad tackle, Lia is the first at her side when she goes down. Lia stays by the readers side. Lots of fluff!!

Notes: haven’t really read this through so please be kind! Also a short one <33

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Getting injured whilst playing your absolute best was every football player's worst idea. You were playing against Man United, thirty minutes in and you were playing your best game that you’d played in a long time.

Arsenal were 1-0 down, Man United getting an early goal six minutes in. Beth Mead passed you the ball, you were getting closer and closer to the next. Millie Turner slide tackled you, taking the ball from straight under your feet.

You landed funny, instantly feeling your ankles crack right underneath you. Strings of curse words fell from your mouth as your body hit the ground. You instantly grabbed you ankle, holding it to try and ease the pain.

The whistle blew, signalling for the game to come for a stop. The crowd's cheers dulled to a concerned murmur as you lay on the pitch, pain radiating from your ankle after a rough tackle. Your teammates huddled around, but it was Lia's face that came into focus above you — her eyes wide with worry.

"Hey, you're going to be okay," Lia said, her voice steady despite the panic you saw in her eyes. She knelt beside you, her hand gently brushing your face. “What hurts, love?”

“Ankle.” You cried, not being able to take the pain as you groaned into the ground, “I felt it crack.”

The medics rushed over, and as they assessed your injury, Lia never left your side. Her hand gently brushed the hair from your forehead.

Lia was your girlfriend of eight months, you’d been friends for around four years and your feelings had only grown over that time. You were flirty friends ever since you’d join Arsenal in January 2019.

Lia hadn’t been at the club long so the pair of you bonded over both being new. At the time you were both in relationships, you had a girlfriend of 3 years and Lia had just celebrated her 1 year anniversary with hers.

Around a year ago, both of your relationships ended and you both moved in with each other. Your feelings for each other grew and grew and one evening you confessed them before asking Lia to be your girlfriend. You hadn’t looked back since that day.

Once the medics had stabilised your ankle, Lia helped you to your feet, acting as your crutch.

"I've got you," she murmured, her tone leaving no room for argument. The protective glint in her eyes told you that she didn’t want to hear your stubbornness.

As you hobbled off the field, leaning heavily on Lia, you couldn't help but feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the injury. It was the warmth of being cared for, the warmth of Lia's unwavering presence. Something you’d never felt on this level before.

You reached the dugouts and the medics took you down to the physio room. Despite not wanting to, Lia returned to the pitch and carried on with the game.

The physio room was a sterile, fluorescent-lit space tucked away beneath the stadium. You sat on the examination table, your broken ankle propped up on a cushion. The pain had dulled slightly, but every movement sent a sharp reminder of the injury up your leg.

The physio further assessed your injury, she examined your ankle, prodding gently and asking about the pain. You winced as she touched the swollen joint, and she nodded in confirmation.

"Definitely a break," she said. "We'll need to get you to the hospital for an X-ray."

You nodded, knowing that recovery was going to be a long process and your season was going to be cut short. Your heart shattered, you’d been playing your best and you felt like everything around you was crumbling down and you couldn’t do anything about it.

Half time came and Lia rushed into the room the room, “My love, you okay?” She asked, concern written all over her face.

“Broken ankle.” You sniffed, Lia wiping your tears from under your eyes, “Need an X-Ray but they think it’s broken.”

“Oh my love, I’m so sorry, we’ll get through this together okay?” Lia reassured you, sitting down on the physio bed next to you.

You spent the next few minutes cuddled together, your head resting on Lia’s chest as your teammates popped in and out to check on you.

“I can’t believe she did that and all she got was a yellow card!” Lia raged, her hands running through your head.

“Babe, it’s okay.” You sighed, “it was a simple mistake from Millie.”

“Still!” The brunette said, throwing her hands up in the air, “you were playing so well and now you’re out for probably the rest of the season!”

At the hospital, the X-rays confirmed the break. You were fitted with a cast, and Lia sat beside you, her thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. She didn't leave your side, not even when you got home and she immediately ordered you to bed.

"You're stuck with me," Lia said, running her hands through your hair as you cuddled into her side. "At least until you're back on your feet."

You smiled, despite the pain throbbing in your ankle. "I wouldn't have it any other way." You tilted your head back slowly and kissed Lia’s lips softly.

The weeks of healing and rehab soon started. The first few weeks were spent in bed, Lia brought you books, snacks, and her company. She even learned how to make a decent cup of tea, which was no small feat for someone who had previously forgotten to put the teabag into the cup and just gave you milk.

As your ankle slowly mended, it took longer than the average break and you missed the rest of the games that season. You attended every match, supporting your teammates from the stand.

One good thing about your injury was that you and Lia became closer than ever. As she played the role of nurse, your love for her grew. You became closer than ever and you were just thankful that you had Lia beside you, holding your hand every step of the way.

[d1xonss]

About Masterlist:

~ Currently I am only writing for the character Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead. But I’m likely to write for others later on down the road.

~ Genres very from fluff to angst

~ My main focus right now is the story I’m writing called Desert Rose which, as of now, is still incomplete.

~ New updates will (hopefully) be weekly.

~ I never have any good ideas for oneshots so I’ll be taking any requests people send me!

~ Most oneshots will be mainly female readers unless requested otherwise.

~ Feel free to request things regarding my series as well, oneshots, headcanons, etc. I’m always open to new ideas.

Fluff ~ 🧸

Angst ~ 🖤

Suggestive ~ 👀

Smut ~ 💋

Series!!<3

~ Desert Rose (ongoing) 🧸💋🖤👀

Series Masterlist Seasons 1-5

Series Masterlist Seasons 6-11 (coming soon)

Oneshots (coming soon…maybe??)

Oneshots!!<3

~ Enchanting 🧸

Summary : After Daryl meets you at a dreaded get together in Alexandria, his mind is constantly flooded with the thoughts of you. When months go by and he still hasn’t made a move, someone gives him just the nudge he needs.

~ Potions 🧸

Summary : One night when you’re in the middle of your skincare routine, your boyfriend Daryl suddenly becomes intrigued.

~ Chicken Soup for the Soul 🧸

Summary : When Daryl returns home from a longer run, you notice quickly he had come down with something. It takes a little convincing, but eventually, he allows you to take care of him.

~ Don’t Go 🖤

Summary : After returning from a run, Daryl quickly finds out that you had been severely injured while he was gone. The sight of you was heartbreaking, but the thought of losing you forever was even more painful.

~ Older 👀

Summary : When confessing your feelings for Daryl after keeping them bottled up inside for so long, he ultimately rejects you. But you somehow find a way to make him regret it.

~ Older | Part 2 💋

Summary : Things only grow more tense between you and Daryl as you meet for dinner to “discuss” what’s been happening between the two of you.

~ Sunshine 🧸

Summary : Daryl has always been somewhat of a serious man, taking everything going wrong around him to heart as he stewed over them constantly. But lucky for him, you’re always around to cheer him up.

~ A Friend 🧸

Summary : Working and dealing with the walkers outside the fences one day had grown to be too much as you desperately needed to get away from the noise. When you found something else to occupy your time, you slowly realize how boring it became. But luckily, Daryl’s able to keep you company.

~ Bedtime Stories 🧸

Summary : You and Daryl stumble into a library after being chased by a herd of walkers, forcing the two of you to stay hidden in the building for a long while. Though amongst the chaos, a sweet moment seems to unfold between the two of you.

~ Pretty When I Cry 🖤🧸

Summary : From the very start you had been struggling to have a decent relationship with the Dixon brothers. Trying your best to show your kindness since they arrived. But one day Daryl seems to snap after an incident, sending you spiraling in a flurry of emotions. However, he manages to venture back and pick up the pieces he’s broken.

~ Forever 🖤🧸

Summary : For months now, Daryl has found himself going down a deep rabbit hole of the thoughts in which he cannot escape. His insecurities about his age and your relationship is all he’s able to ponder over. But in the end, you make a promise to stick around forever.

~ Sticks and Stones 🧸

Summary : After arriving in the brand new community, you quickly find it’s not exactly what it chalked up to be. An incident occurs, causing you to snap. But Daryl just so happens to be at the right place at the right time.

~ Cigarettes After Sex 🖤💋

Summary : Knowing Daryl for so many years, it was still unclear what was going on between the two of you. Having to get past the fear in order to finally see what you had been missing out on all along.

~ Soap and Bubbles 🧸

Summary : When first arriving to Alexandria, you noticed that Daryl is having trouble adjusting. So, you find a way to help him relax.

~ Fuck it, I love you 🖤💋

Summary : You and Daryl had always been close since the start. But when things grow a little complicated after the Commonwealth, a wedge is created between the two of you. Though when two of your people suddenly go missing, it brings the two of you together once more after being apart for so long. But the question remains; is it enough to save your relationship?

~ Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder 🧸

Summary : When your insecurities start to get the better of you, Daryl manages to come in at the right time to give you the reassurance you need. Wanting to show you how he sees you through his own eyes.

~ Practice Makes Perfect 💋

Summary : When Daryl opens up about his lack of experience with relationships and…other things, he finds your reaction is definitely not what he expected.

[absolutebl]

This Week in BL - Japan is Winning on Kisses & Other Alternate Realities

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

March 2024 Wk 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Two Worlds (Thurs IQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - It would be great if we got the alternative romance with dead Kram from Tai’s perspective (JBL style.) Still I like this show. It’s a little bit like I Feel You Linger in the Air only with a love triangle. And while I'm not a fan of triangles as a general rule, I don’t mind it here because the set up is clever. Wayu and  ao are fun sides too. It sure is moving very quickly, which I like. I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. But that’s normal for me with this kind of Thai drama. 

Deep Night (Thurs iQiyi) ep 4 of 8 - They are extremely sappy boyfriends. I love that mom has a secret gf. Could we please have more of them? The love triangle sides are ridiculous, but I do like that it’s all out in the open. I also like they are actually addressing the complicated parental dynamics of owning a sex club. Honestly, I think Khem should have to be a host too. Learn him the right way, girl!

City of Stars (Fri iQIYI) ep 9 of 12 - It’s good, I like the fallout and them actually having to deal with crazy fans and past relationships. They’re so good at communicating it’s kind of a pleasure to watch them suffer through external pressures, because I have faith that they can make it through.

To Be Continued (Thai C3 Thailand grey) ep 6 of 8 - They are such cute puppy dads and so clearly meant to be together, the fact that they aren’t is just frustrating. The fight thing was stupid. And not a whole lot happened... plus singing. I’m getting fatigued with this one. 

1000 Years Old ep 7 of 12 - Did I miss something happening, or did nothing happen? 

Kiseki Chapter 2 (Sun iQIYI) ep 2 of 6 - It’s so boring, there’s so much guitar playing, and it got weirdly voyeuristic (in a very much not sexy way). I’m totally out. DNF

Close Friend Season 3: Soju Bomb! (Weds iQIYI) ep 3 of 6 - I can’t tell if this is trying to be a BL Romancing the Stone, or a BL Hangover, or both. The problem with situational comedy is it must be both situational and comedic, not just option one. The problem with calling something BL, is that it must be BL. This show got 1 of 3 claims correct. 33% is not a passing grade. DNF 

Honestly, it's the HANDS with these two. They do beautiful beautiful things with their hands. If you're one of those hands-obsessed BLabies you should be watching LIBTSTA!

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

Unknown (Taiwan Tues Youku YouTube & Viki) ep 6 of 11 - So the worst finally happened. The mountain of pain has fallen down upon us. And now, hopefully in the second half things get better for our boys. But what a rough ride. Normally, this is not my style of BL, but everyone is doing such a gorgeous job with it, I can’t fault it… except that it hurts. The red thread symbolism was elegantly done. I’d like to hope we get a reunion in the next one, but knowing this style of series they’re gonna draw it out. There's gonna be a more pain first.

Love is Better the Second Time Around AKA Koi wo Suru nara Nidome ga Joto (Japan Weds Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - Those fuck me puppy dog eyes were perfectly executed. I would not have been able to resist either. Gosh they are so damn cute. This is a great show.

Jazz for Two (Korea Gaga/grey) eps 1-2 of 8 - This comes from the Shoulder to Cry On team so I'm scared, but this one is all actors* not idols so maybe they'll be braver. Boy howdy does it have a fantastic opening sequence. Also the lead is fucking adorable. Mr Broody McBroodypants is cute too. Korea sure loves “pretty but broken.” On the JBL end of the spectrum, is everyone in love with their siblings? That’s weird. The dining room scene was painful. All in all, it's good, I'm intrigued. Let's see how you go little show.

I stand absolutely corrected the lead is a member of NEWKIDD (in my defense I'd never heard of them until Build Up last month). I did recognize him from To My Star because at the time I thought he was too pretty to be only a side character.

AntiReset (Taiwan Fri Viki/Gaga) ep 10 fin - Again there was overuse of previous footage and maudlin navel-gazing grief over something we knew was going to happen. So I didn’t really feel much emotional connection to the drama. 7 year time gap.? t was a cute reunion but the moral quandary never really got resolved. I don’t know how to rate this, I’m not sure I will ever watch it again, so that is a big mark against it.

There’s nothing objectively wrong with this BL except how upsetting it is because of the foundational pygmalion story - grown man falls in love with an android who is basically both his slave and, by maturity level, a child. Yet that premise is crystal clear from the get go, so we watch it eyes open. The actors are cute, the romance sweet, the physical chemistry on point (of course, it’s Taiwan) and yet I was left ultimately unsettled by the concept, content, and plot. 7/10 

My Strawberry Film (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 7 of 8 - I'm so ready for this to be over, and for Gaga to have something good on. Soon please?

It's done, ready to binge, but I suck

What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps

It's airing but...

Graduation Countdown (Taiwan YouTube) - It's too much to ask me to keep up with 2 minute verticals, I don't have that kind of TikTok endurance training. Waiting to binge.

A Secretly Love (Thai Sat WeTV grey) 10 eps - I watched the first ep but grey is too much work for this inferior of a show. I may pick up and binge if it gets distribution but for now, it gets a DNF from me. KimCop might have held this crap together but Kim without Cop? No thank you.

Lady Boy Friends (Thai WeTV grey) 16 eps - reminds me a bit too much of Diary of Tootsies only high school. Not my thing. DNF unless it turns a corner and is truly amazing.

Tangential to the genre

There has been the occasional discussion on this topic here in this little corner of tumblr so I thought there might be a few intersted in this podcast: AmericanThaiGuy Ron Weaver on the Complicated Issue of Racism in Thailand (The Bangkok Podcast)

Thailand passed its Marriage Equality bill through the lower house. It's expected to pass the high house and get signed by the King, but that hasn't quite happened yet.

And MaxTul dropped a photo shoot.

Next Week Looks Like This:

Starting Soon

3/31 Only Boo! (Thai GMMTV YouTube) 12 eps - New main couple for GMMTV in an idol romance about a boy who dances good and a food stand vendor. Other side of the tracks grumpy/sunshine pair who fall deeply in love but, of course, baby boy idol can't date. Boyband but from GMMTV? Control your singing and I'm game.

3/31 The Next Prince (Thai ????) 12 eps - trailer. ZeeNew in a fantasy/historical set in a palace where Zee plays a knight and Nu a prince - YES PLEASE. (Apparently this is just the pilot, not the start of the actual show, see comments.)

4/1 Love is like a Cat (Korea ????) 12 eps - This completed filming Aug 2022(!) which means there have been serious problems with post-production. This is another of Silkwood's Korean+Thai colab projects. Mew Suppasit plays a rookie film star, called the Cat Prince (for his cold arrogance) who goes up against a charismatic puppyish animal daycare director (JM of JUST B). There is a side romance (love triangle?) with a veterinarian. Geonu of JUST B is also in the cast. Dual languages.

Hum, trash-watch-a-licious?

4/3 We Are (Thai GMMTV YouTube iQIYI) 12 eps - University ensemble BL featuring PondPhuwin, WinnySatang, AouBoom, MarcPawinPoon - basically the good kind of messy gay friendship group (so more My Engineer and less Only Friends). Looks a bit like the Kiss series but everyone is queer. I'm IN!

4/11 Living With Him AKA Kare no Iru Seikatsu (Japan ????) 10 eps - Kindly Ryota goes off to uni only to find his new roommate is his childhood bestie, Kazuhito. Kazuhito doesn’t have a girlfriend and Ryota tries to help him figure out why, they fall in love along the way. Same director as Old Fashion Cupcake.

4/11 Gray Shelter AKA Gray Currents (Korea ????) 4 eps - SooHyuk is only just surviving and reunites with YoonDae, an old friend. They end up living together. One of the leads is played by Choco of Choco Milk Shake.

4/18 At 25:00, in Alaska AKA 25 Ji, Akasaka de (Japan Gaga - may not be global) 10 eps - Yuki lands his first starring role in a BL drama alongside superstar Asami (previously his senior at uni). Said superstar suggests they form a sham relationship until filming concludes. As they actually begin to fall in love, the spotlight begins to burn.

Seriously? You're killing me with these titles, boys.

4/26 My Stand-In (Thai iQIYI) 12 eps - adaptation of Chinese novel "Professional Body Double" by Shui Qiang Cheng. Stars Up (Lovely Writer) and Poom (Bake Me Please) directed by the same team as KP (not a recommendation IMHO - my biggest criticism of that show was the clashing directing styles). This one looks well complicated, lemme try: Joe is a stuntman for famous actor Tong. Joe falls in love with Ming but Ming sees Joe as nothing more than a Tong-replacement. After learning this horrible truth, Joe dies. Joe then wakes up in the body of another man also named Joe. He manages to rebuild the same life as before—with the same people eventually re-meeting Ming. Ming wants Joe back but Joe doesn't understand why. But Ming seems to know what's going on and wants to give him some kind of explanation.

I'm exhausted just trying to describe the plot.

Knock-Knock Boys (Thai WeTV) - 4 college friends conspire to help their friend lose his virginity. Familiar faces like Seng (yes, Billy's previous partner) and Best, news here.

Upcoming BLs for 2024 are listed here. This list is not kept updated, so please leave a comment if you know something new or RP with additions.

NOTE: It looks like one of my personal favorites of last year Unintentional Love Story is getting a spin off!

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

Just these two, in my head, rent free. Thanks Japan!

(Last week)

Streaming services are listed by how I (usually) watch, which is with a USA based IP, and often offset by a day because time zones are too much work.

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @rocketturtle4

If ya wanna be tagged each week leave a comment and I will add you to the template. Easy peesy. (With so many tags when does a weekly tumblr post become a newsletter? That is this week's philosophical question...)

[sc0tters]

Second Chance | Jamie Drysdale

summary: jamie might still have your mind but does he really have your heart?

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, mild choking, mild degradation, jealous jamie, swearing.

word count: 3.68k

authors note: for how long this took me I’m embarrassed to admit to how short it is… this part two was also so freaking weird to write so I’m hoping it’s a bit better to read.

pt 1

You had grown to hate Anaheim.

The city was a shell of its former self with where the shadows of Jamie seemed to haunt your mind. Everywhere you looked you swore he was there and you hated being met with the reality that he wasn’t. But most of all you hated the fact that you couldn’t seem to hate him.

Trevor noticed the decline in your mood but he just assumed that it was some kind of seasonal depression. And as he focused on building his new relationship with his girlfriend, he simply didn’t notice how far you had fallen. Trying to grapple with life as a twenty year old was always going to be tough and still feeling the pain of a broken heart that was dealt to you by the man who you couldn’t ever call yours.

It was this weird sense of grief you felt. You couldn’t say that you missed him because then what was it that you missed? He wasn’t your boyfriend, and at best Jamie was the guy you slept with from time to time. To top it all off you were a barely keeping it all together whilst Jamie seemed to be unscathed from the unfortunate emotions, only furthering your pain.

Your friends put you on enough dating sites to last anyone a lifetime as you were the only one single. And as you finally stopped turning them down, they wouldn’t give you a chance to change your mind. With each guy you could only find his downfalls or how he wasn’t like Jamie and how your heart and your brain just wanted the man who clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

So after almost three months of struggling with all of these men that clearly weren’t enough to pull your mind from the grasps of Jamie; you finally found someone who made you feel alive and funnily enough he had been right in front of you all along. Alex started hanging out more with you when Trevor started spending more time with Dixie.

Alex had actually shown up at the Zegras siblings apartment one night looking for Trevor “hey Al.” You smiled as you saw the boy stand over you “is Trev in?”Aled asked as he cocked his head shoving his hands into his shorts pockets.

Your lips pursed together as you shook your head “he’s out on a date.” Your words made him wriggle his eyebrows as he laughed “I got that man dinner for nothing?” Every Wednesday the duo would go for dinner if they didn’t have a game and now it seemed that your brother forgot of that tradition.

You frowned sending him a sigh “if you’re up for an episode of the bachelor I could eat?” You offered opening the door further as you smiled tilting your head inwards “since you asked so nicely.” Alex didn’t hesitate to nod as he walked in making himself comfortable on the couch.

That’s how your weeks ended, with Alex on the couch and he was no longer just your brothers best friend but instead a friend of yours. You had to say that you found yourself falling for him. With Alex it was no longer tough to not think about Jamie, instead now it was tough to not let your body feel like it was on fire with nerves.

All the way in Philly sat Jamie as he frowned staring at his phone in his empty apartment. The sound of a notification pulled him from his daze when he realised that he had a voicemail from you. It surprised him when he saw your name but after months of letting his thumb hover over the call button only stopping when the fear of hearing you upset got to him. But instead he was met with the sounds of you in bed with someone else.

The sounds of your breathe shaking echoed in the phones speaker “fuck Al!” You moaned letting your legs shake “you are such a pretty fucking girl.” Alex mumbled as he ran his finger over your clit. It made Jamie freeze listening to you having sex. Was he meant to hang up? Because this clearly wasn’t meant for him.

You grabbed the boy by the back of his neck as you pulled him forward “gonna come.” You announced kissing his lips “go make a mess on my fingers and I’ll make you feel real good with my cock.” As the offer left Alex’s lips a flurry of jumbled sounds and noises left your mouth signalling that you had reached your high.

The sounds made Jamie recoil in disgust as he didn’t know what to do about it. Most of all though he missed being the one who made you sound like that. Jamie didn’t know what to do as he felt his cock hardening in his pants. The season had ended and he was meant to be heading home to his parents but all he could think about was you. There were no rumours on twitter about you and this Al that Jamie swore was Turcotte.

And he knew that Twitter would have found something as they even had scraps of you and Jamie together swirling around the rumour mill. So as he was met with nothing but random pictures of you and Trevor, Jamie knew what he had to do.

You groaned when you were woken up to the incessant pounding on your door when you realised that Trevor was still out “alright I’m coming!” You complained rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Before you could even properly open the door it was pushed into you as the raven haired boy that you knew so well walked in “where is he?” Jamie grunted looking around the pristinely clean apartment “where is who?” You yawned wondering if you were dreaming of Jamie being there.

The boy stopped planting his feet where he was as he sent you a harsh glare “the man you fucked last night y/n!” His words made you freeze as you began to wonder how he knew about what you had done the night before.

A laugh echoed through your ears “you gonna tell me you don’t remember giving me that front row seat to listen in?” your eyes went wide as you realised what had gone on.

You couldn’t help but bring your hand to your mouth as you held back a laugh “you came back because you heard me have sex?” You knew it wasn’t the time to bring it up but that clearly seemed to be his entire reason for being there and you were a fool to think that it could have been something else.

Jamie rolled his eyes as he felt himself grow angry “I leave for Philly and all of a sudden you’re deciding that your type simply has to be friends with your brother.” The flyer spat as he sent you a glare “you don’t get to go there!” The embarrassment you once held had left your chest as it had been replaced by anger.

He rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms “why not?” Jamie spoke rhetorically as he cocked his head “because that’s the only thing we have in common.” He pointed out reminding you of how different the boys were.

You chewed at the inside of your cheek “you left me and came back to judge me for moving on?” Your voice was barely a whisper as the boy stepped closer to you.

Part of you was grateful for the fact that Alex left earlier that morning needing to catch a flight back to Michigan but the other part just wanted him to walk into the living room to stop whatever was going to come from this “you didn’t really move on though, did ya?” Jamie’s fingers were rough against your cheek as he towered over you.

A shaky breath left your lips “you’re being mean.” You pointed out trying your best to ignore his question “tell me to leave and I will.” Jamie announced pressing a cold and hard gaze against your weakening one.

The oxygen around the room was struggling to get into your lungs as you shook your head “you know I can’t.” It came with this defeated sigh that even made Jamie pity you “then why’d you go for him?” The question was like the one you had asked yourself so many times and could never find the answers to.

You shrugged as no answer really made the most sense “you enjoyed playing him is that it?” The hockey player was pushing your buttons in search of a particular answer “he’s good to me J.” You shook your head almost offended that the boy in front of you thought that lowly of you.

Yet it gave him the chance to laugh at you once more “better than I was?” It seemed like that was the first question you could actually shake off as you shook your head but this time to really say no “does he have you coming for rounds on end?” Especially once Jamie moved into out from the Zegras sibling’s apartment; it meant that you were over at his more often than not and up until the sun would rise.

Tears welled in your waterline “only you do that.” It was as though his cock left an imprint on your cunt that only he knew how to make feel full “I know my sweet girl.” You really thought that you had moved on from Jamie but as he stood in front of you with his hand caressing your cheek, you knew that you couldn’t have been more wrong.

Jamie put you out of your misery as his free hand gripped at your hip “how about I make you feel real fucking good?” He offered letting his lips hover over yours “please.” Was all the hockey player needed to hear as he picked you up letting your legs wrap around his waist as his lips locked with yours.

All of the lust and anger that both of you felt about the situation -about each other- was oozing out of your systems as your hands tugged through his hair pulling at the roots as his tongue slid into your lips “should fuck you out here like the real slut that you are.” He proposed letting a smirk form across his lips as he watched your eyes go wide.

Trevor had told you he was coming home, you just didn’t know when “Jim.” You whined shaking your head as you motioned your bedroom trying to tell him that today wasn’t the time for it “you worried that your little boy toy is gonna come back to see where you really belong?” Jamie nipped at your neck as he walked you both into your room making sure that the door was shut.

He watched in awe as your eyes scanned his face “his name is Alex, Jamie.” You reminded the boy as you felt guilty thinking about how sweet Alex was to you “and I’m gonna make sure you forget it.” Jamie’s announcement didn’t have you thinking otherwise as he placed you onto your bed settling into his place between your legs.

You had seen Jamie jealous before after you chugged a beer that Mason had given you. But this was a whole new level as if Jamie had something to prove “now rest that pretty little head of yours on that pillow f’me.” The hockey player reached behind you to grab your pillow as he pulled it closer to you.

One thing you always knew how to do was listen to him and today you didn’t disappoint. Your body nestled against your sheets as you looked at him with anticipation “god you’re soaked.” Jamie grunted seeing your soaked cunt as he trailed his fingers against your slit watching in awe as your wetness stuck to fingers.

He swore that the sight would truly never get old as he would watch you like this forever “please.” Your voice waivered as you forced your hips into the air “been thinking about having a taste of this all the fucking time.” Jamie confessed making you meet him with a whimper.

His lips pressed against your knee “Jamie.” You groaned feeling his breath go down your legs as he made sure to spread his love equally “yeah baby.” The hockey player turned his head up to look at you as you chewed at your lower lip.

A mewl left your lips “please fuck me.” You begged feeling desperate to feel him between your thighs again “don’t think you’re in a position to be making demands.” Jamie clicked his tongue as he blew a cool air against your cunt “not after you were fucking him on our bed.” He didn’t even give you a chance to respond as his tongue latched onto your clit.

Your hands gripped at your sheets in an attempt to stop your body from curling into itself “‘m sorry.” You croaked out as your body melted into his touch

Jamie might as well have been a starved man as he treated you like you were his last meal “can’t believe you let him see my sweet tight pussy.” The boy raised his lips only far enough to bring his hand between you both so that he could hit your cunt.

It made you moan as your body shook “he would let me come.” You knew you were playing with fire as the hockey player sent you a glare “that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna get you in so much trouble.” Jamie warned edging dangerously close to you as he smirked.

You used the last bits of power and strength that you had left to smile “you used to deal with that by putting your cock in my mouth.” You swore that in that moment Jamie was seeing the devil as his pupils darkened “that’s before I had to treat you like somebody else’s whore.” He spat letting his fingers grip onto your hips as he turned you over resulting in a yelp leaving your lips.

Your didn’t often deceive you but in that moment you swore you heard Jamie grunt into your ear “you just had to go and give this pretty little cunt to someone who didn’t even deserve it.” Jamie clicked his tongue as he undid his belt.

You gripped at your sheets as you felt your shirt come off of your back as it was lifted up “see he isn’t a fan of you back here.” The hockey player mumbled to himself as your back looked untouched “at least I know your ass is still mine then.” He squeezed your ass in his fingers causing a breathy moan to leave your lips.

You couldn’t help but shake your ass pushing yourself into him “god I need to fuck you.” Jamie groaned feeling his cock throb as he felt your bare cunt grind against him “what are you waiting for then?” The question taunted him practically egging him on as you push his buttons further.

The swollen tip of his cock oozed precum as he wrapped his hand around his shaft “you’re lucky that I can’t get this cunt out of my head.” He grumbled pumping himself once then twice before he dragged the mushroom head over your slit.

It made your body tense as you curled your toes “fuck!” Your moan was swallowed by your pillow as Jamie smirked to himself “seems like you been missing me too.” The hockey player gripped at your hips as he let himself bottom you out.

Both of you stayed there for a moment as your walls hugged his length “like I never even left ya.” Jamie gritted his teeth as he began to pick up the pace of his thrusts feeling his eyes flutter “was worried he would have ruined my pretty fucking pussy.” The boy spat oozing with jealousy as it made you whimper.

Tears formed in your waterline when your ass was met with a smack “no!” You cried as you shook your head “don’t worry doll.” Jamie kissed the back of your neck as his hands slid under you to cup your breasts.

The sounds of his thrusts echoed in your ears “could never ruin something that wasn’t his.” Your cunt clenched around Jamie as you were aroused by his possessiveness “you like hearing me say that you’re all mine huh?” You could feel his smirk like the Cheshire Cat as you nodded.

Jamie’s knees dipped into the mattress as he got the best angle into you “all yours.” You moaned as you turned your head up to see him looking back down at you “knew you still had a brain in that pretty head of yours.” The hockey player kissed your cheek as his cock throbbed from within you.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust of his cock “don’t stop J.” You begged feeling a coil snap in your stomach “you feel you haven’t had a good fuck in months.” Jamie wasn’t lying when he said that, your cunt stretched to his cock and it was as though he hadn’t been with you before.

Cries let your lips as you babbled a steady stream of incoherent nonsense “make me feel so full.” Tears streamed down your cheeks as your legs began to shake “you feel me in here?” Jamie asked pressing his hand against your lower stomach where he felt his cock hit your gspot that left you yelping out in pleasure.

His fingers slid lower to rub your clit “fuck I’m gonna come.” You announced not thinking that you would be able to last much longer “gonna hold it until you ask nicely.” Jamie clicked his tongue as his free hand was quick to move to your neck as he pulled you closer to him as he held you upright.

Sweat stuck your both of you as his thrusts began to grow unstable and inconsistent “please let me come.” You called out not caring who could hear you “just want to be all yours.” You nodded feeling your vision get blurry as you didn’t think you were going to last much longer.

Jamie let his teeth sink into your shoulder as he stopped himself from coming in that moment “you never gonna let him get close to your pretty cunt ever again?” Jamie spat pressing his fingertips over the sides of your throat.

You swore your throat was raw as you kept on begging to have him let you come “I’m only yours Jamie.” You mumbled nodding as your ears began to ring “you fucking own me.” That was enough to let Jamie go feral as he used the little energy he had left to practically fuck you into oblivion “just go make a mess on my cock doll.” The order wasn’t something he needed to say twice.

As your cunt clenched around him it triggered the hockey players orgasm on as he spurted his warm load in sticky strings against your cunts walls “fuck J.” You whined writhing against him as you practically forgot how to breathe when the oxygen to your brain began to slow.

It took him a few more thrusts until you both landed on your mattress and his hand left your neck “wow.” Jamie mumbled sliding his cock out from your cunt to see your release mix either his as it oozed out “you okay?” He added flipping you over onto your back as you finally got the chance to look at him.

The way his eyes scanned you deep of concern made you laugh “that was the hottest thing I think you’ve ever done.” You confessed making him match your laugh as he leaned down to kiss you “think I can make it a little hotter then.” Jamie proposed running his hand down your slit before he scooped up whatever release that had oozed from your cunt as he now let it go back into your core as he pushed his fingers through your hole.

That day left an imprint on your mind as four weeks had gone by and Jamie had become nothing more than one of Trevor’s friends. Confessions seemed to way less than your brothers tears as he drunkenly sobbed into your arms one night begging you to end whatever it was after he found you in Jamie’s shirt.

Thankfully Trevor seemed to have no recollection of the conversation as he invited Jamie along to the family house on the lake a little over a month from now. Sure it was going to be weird for you but after a long call with Jamie you both agreed that it was going to be best for things to end for the sakes of Trevor.

He tried to put up a fight but when you brought up distance amongst other factors, Jamie knew he had lost the battle. You and Alex were merely enjoying things the way they were.

It was the perfect balance that truly didn’t need a label to have you feeling secure. Yet as you stood in the bathroom waiting for your timer to go off part of you began to curse your big brother for having to come to you, and for you having to be a good person.

Your period had been late and as it was bikini season you never complained but when you did the math backwards you realised that something was off. Even if you had shared your bed with two different guys, only one had you without any kind of protection between you both was Jamie.

And as you flipped the test over to see the thick bold letters spelling out the word PREGNANT you knew you were in all sense of the word fucked. No amount of tears was ever going to help make this situation better as you began to panic. Your head pressed against your knees as you wanted to wake up from this dream.

Al 🖤: just booked my flight see you next month x

[bones4thecats]

Their S/O Is One of Blitzø's Many Exes

Characters: Verosika Mayday, Striker, and Fizzarolli Inspired By: Apology Tour and the Anti-Blitzø Party A/N: This was so much fun to write for these three. Just imagining them with one of Blitzø's exes is hilarious in my opinion. Anyways, hope you Helluva Boss enjoyers love this! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Season 1, Episode 3 - Season 1, Episode 5 - Season 1, Episode 7 - Season 2, Episode 9 / Swearing, mentions of cheating, being abandoned, toxic relationships, and assassin stuff ⚠️

Disclaimer: Fizz! S/O Song; 10 Things I Hate About You - Leah Kate

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Verosika Mayday ═════════════════════════╝

🎤 Verosika hated your shared ex with a burning passion. She got vulnerable for one of the rare times in her life and he just got up and ditched her in a painful way

🎤 You were left in a similar way. You and Blitzø had dated for nearly a year when, on your anniversary, you had told him you loved him. He froze, didn't even apologize, and left. You were left there alone with the bill and with a broken heart

🎤 Verosika and you eventually met at one of her Anti-Blitzø Parties. You attended because it just sounded like something you could have at least some fun at since he dumped you, and seeing how many others he left in his shadow, you felt horrible for them all

🎤 But your disdain for the imp grew on

🎤 As a fairly cool-headed individual, you were hired by Verosika early on in your friendship to be a traveling Album Cover Designer, Backup Singer, and Sound Technician. Your hands were full, but thankfully you were born and raised in the Greed Ring, so you knew how much work you could and could not handle

🎤 It took a while for you and the pop-star to bond like anything other than friends, but when you did begin your relationship, it was amazing. You two adored one another with a passion. And since you had almost the same experience with your ex, you knew how to talk to one another about it

🎤 When you guys came across Blitzø again, she smirked when he tried calling your name after Verosika walked off. You just looked back at him over your shoulder and rolled your eyes, but when he tried saying he was sorry, you snapped

"What the fuck are you on about?"

"We were fine! I was just having a rough night! I didn't mean to hurt you like that!"

"But you did! That's the fucking thing! You never actually think about your actions!" You screamed, pupils shrinking as you slowly became more and more like a large spider. "Honestly, Blitzo, grab some fucking maturity! If you can afford to pay them," you pointed at the rest of I.M.P., "then you can that!"

"Y/N, dear."

🎤 Calming down when you felt Verosika's hand in your top right one, you just blinked blankly at the group, who were all in shock at your outburst and scoffed, walking away. Leaving the imp and your past behind you for your new one

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Striker ════════════════════════════════╝

🗡️ After you and Blitzø's fall out, you had moved away from the Pride Ring and back to your home in the Wrath Ring. Your father was happy to see his child come back, but your mother was curious on what went wrong with you and your boyfriend

🗡️ Your father would've went up to the Pride Ring and killed the imp himself if it wasn't for your two older brothers holding him back from it. They sighed and calmed your dad down before helping you move back into your room

"Hey, Y/N. Isn't that- uh, Blitz guy an assassin?"

"Wannabe assassin." You corrected.

"Yeah! You come from a family of assassins. Why don't you spite him back by beating him to every punch?"

🗡️ So you did. You had taken one of his old journals, which held many of his few client's requests. Thankfully, you had an Asmodean-Crystal from a past client you killed for, so getting to the human world would be a piece of cake

����️ It was when you were traveling to another ring for a new hellborn-client that you met Striker. And you were happy you did. Despite knowing it was difficult to be in a relationship as an assassin, at least working as one, you and Striker did start your own shared life after around three years of knowing one another

🗡️ Striker had informed you of his plan to kill Stolas Goetia at the Harvest Moon Festival. Your family had planned on going there for a couple missions themselves, and while they finished up, you stayed with your boyfriend to finish his job

🗡️ Your ex was shocked to see you standing alongside the hybrid-imp. And honestly it kinda hurt him a little bit. He didn't have any feelings towards you anymore. He has the many after you to prove that, but it hurt seeing you working alongside another to kill him

"After everything I did for you? This is how you repay me, you bitch!"

"Why you-"

"Blitzo," You said emphasizing the o at the end of his name, "I believed that you did everything you wanted for me back then. But when I look back on us, I don't see shit coming out of you. Besides, I have met your ex before me. You only fucked me because I appealed to your demographic; desperate and easy to fuck-over."

"What the fuck are you on about?! I never thought that about you!"

"Then why did you leave me on my motherfucking birthday, jack-off!"

🗡️ Striker smirked as his opponent lightly shifted in thought, you merely scoffed and pulled out your own angelic weapon, that being a spear, and readied it for battle

"Let's just get this shit-show over with. Me and my boyfriend have a owlish-prince to end."

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Fizzarolli ══════════════════════════════╝

🪷 Fizzarolli has a complicated relationship with your ex. He believes that he left him in the dust, leaving him alone to be in so much mental and physical pain just because he was jealous. And you just felt like a sack of naive shit when he abandoned you

🪷 You met him just a few days after your breakup. He wasn't surprised that you were one of Blitzø's exes. He's had many, and Fizzarolli was pretty sure it was up in the 50s at that point

🪷 He asked you why he broke up with you, as you were quite the looker, being from the Lust Ring and all. You just shrugged and laughed lightly before getting upset and throwing an empty liquor bottle at the nearest demon, causing him to pass out

"Who fucking know? Probably got so damn terrified of the feelings I confessed. Pussy."

"I'll agree with you on the third swear." He laughed out, making you smile.

"I'm Y/N L/N, professional animal tamer for the Mammon Circus. You?"

"Fizzarolli! Entertainer extraordinaire!"

🪷 You both bonded a lot more than you initially thought. Fizzarolli was quite the funny-guy, it made sense why he was an clown, his jokes were just top-shelf!

🪷 Fizz eventually introduced you to Asmodeus when Mammon was being a dick and fired you for someone else's mistake. You were happy when the Lust Ring's ruler accepted you onto his team, specifically to help out with any animals coming into the mix

🪷 After a while of getting closer, you were surprised when Blitzø came out of nowhere and was on a seeming date with Prince Stolas of the Goetia Royal Family

🪷 Your boyfriend saw you next to the stage and pulled you up into his number, allowing you to add your own turn into the scene so you could get your side of the story out

"I caught you cheating. You had the nerve to say you're sleeping. Just not with her, but tell your friends. That I'll be lost without you." You sang, looking at the imp's shocked face. "And I'll admit it, sometimes I miss when we were in it. So I made a list so I never forget all the things I hate about you. Ten, you're selfish, nine, you're jaded, eight, the dumbest guy I dated, seven, talk a big game 'til you're naked, only six seconds, and I had to fake it. Five, you're toxic, four, can't trust you, three, you still got daddy issues, two years of your bullshit I can't undo, one, I hate the fact that you made me love you."

🪷 As you sang, Fizzarolli admired you. His eyes tracing your form as you danced around the imp, using your abilities as a way to show everything he did to you. From his embarrassing intellect to the many problems you faced in your relationship

🪷 It was nice to dance around freely, especially when you handed the song over to Verosika, whom you grown close to over time of going to her Anti-Blitzø Parties. When you finished, you went over to Fizz and allowed him to pick you up and dance with you as he and Asmodeus finished of the song

🪷 When Blitzø and Stolas left with their imp friends, you looked back at Fizzarolli, smiling before walking away with him while Asmodeus handled some other things. You two eventually made it to his dressing room and kissed, separating only for air and to look in one another's eyes calmly

"You did amazing, cupcake."

"So didn't you, smiles."

[conundrumoftime]

Been thinking about this, and here's why I'm more focused on what TROP might be doing with Celeborn than what it's planning to do with Haladriel at the moment:

With Galadriel and Sauron, I already know how that's going to end. They're going to end up 3000 years in the future as each others' chief adversaries where she's still tempted by the power that TROP has framed with Sauron's offer to her, and he's still constantly trying to get into her mind. So there are not that many ways the show can mess this up for me because I know that's the end-point. What's on-screen might be more or less appealing to me but the overall direction is set.

With Celeborn, though, they could really mess this up.

I do not say this just because I like canon Celeborn or that ship. (Although I do! And I still get to continue writing it in Silm/LOTR canon if TROP messes it up.) I say this more because I really like TROP Galadriel, and so much genre TV I've loved before has had an abysmal record at putting a female main character in an established relationship. So many times, it's effectively the conclusion of her character arc. So many times, interesting moral ambiguities, flaws, imperfections, ambitions, everything that's driven her part in the plot forward, are parked for Aren't They Sweet. 'Married' and 'parent' are seen as personalities for female characters in a way that they are not for male characters.

I like TROP's Galadriel. I like that she is flawed and that her flaws carry her story forward. I like her confidence, her grief, her loyalty, her single-mindedness, her response to being disrespected in that Númenor throne room to be to inflame the situation to the point where even Sauron the Dark Lord went "woah there".

I do not want her to stay unchanged for the whole show. At this point she is still driven so much by grief and pain and regret and in season 1 by isolation above all. I do want to see that get better for her, but not in a way where it changes her whole personality (& I've talked before about how I don't think the Galadriel we meet in LOTR is an all-knowing all-gentle wise forest lady) or reduces her to a background figure.

Introducing Celeborn to TROP could go, broadly, 3 ways:

One: they leave him out until the end, and reintroduce him as part of her happy ending. I would not love this - as I said before, I like him, I like that ship, and I want to see her husband and their marriage as playing parts in her story, not a prize delivered to her for successfully completing it; I want her conflicted feelings about Sauron to continue with Celeborn in the picture, I don't want the show suggesting to me she's only got those conflicted feelings because he's not currently there. "Well done for not flirting with Sauron recently! Here's your husband back :) now you get to be happy and have a baby :)" - deeply boring for me. But at least I'd only be bored for the last episode or two.

Two: they introduce him earlier and do something interesting with him, probably tying him to one of the other plots, maybe introducing him before telling us who he is so we get to know him as a character rather than as Galadriel's Husband. This would let them use that relationship to explore more of Galadriel's character journey in a far more interesting way than just awarding him to her at the end.

He's been away for centuries; the way she described him when he left, he was quite sheltered, he wasn't used to war, his memory seems very tied up in her mind with her own younger, happier, more naive self. And now he's back. Has he changed as much as she has? Has the war broken him too? Has he maybe not wanted to come back? Does he have his own traumas, his own griefs, his own goals and motivations, that may clash with hers? What's he going to think when he meets this Galadriel? What's she going to think when she meets him? How do you rebuild a marriage when you're effectively strangers to each other? What's he going to think of Sauron's offer - does he know Galadriel well enough to understand why she was tempted? Would he have been tempted? Might he still be? This could be really interesting and is by far my favourite option.

Three: They bring him back in a way that sidelines Galadriel in the narrative, blunts all the interesting sharp edges of her character, gives her 'married' as a personality, and makes her temptation by Sauron not something that exists because of who she is and what drives her, but something that only existed because her husband was not around and now he's back they can walk off into the sunset holding hands. Insert Darth Vader "NOOOOOOOO" scream here.

I don't think the show would go that route. Durin and Disa show that they can write a married couple fine (as a parent myself I cannot tell you how inspirational it was to see Disa in s1 deftly lying to Elrond while doing bedtime for her small children, because damn that takes skill). The showrunners and writers are invested in Galadriel; they clearly like the opportunity that less-canonically-fleshed-out characters give them to really play around. But! Like I said, I have been burnt on this one so many times, and my fear is that it's just what they'll do because they think the story calls for it in the same way they do Big Epic End-Of-Season Battle Sequence because they think the story calls for that.

I really really really so much do not want this to happen to Galadriel or her story, and so will continue to worry to some degree or another until I get some sense of what on earth they're planning to do with Celeborn.

[nolita-fairytale]

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter eleven

summary: you receive bad news, but luca is there for you. and it seems like he's intent on continuing to be there for you.

warnings: angst, grief, death, vomiting, fluff, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.

word count: 3.3k

listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist (specifically 'how to mend a broken heart' - al green & 'love' - kendrick lamar; another very will poulter-coded choice)

a/n: pov: it's me warning you that there is in fact angst but trust, babes. trust. after the trauma of meeting donna b in season 2, i wanted to explore characters who had positive relationships with their mothers. so if you have not picked up on it yet, this story is also about mothers **cries because it's too damn sweet. let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist.

part ten | masterlist | part twelve

Astrid: Hey give me a call when you’re up. 

I don’t want to worry you, but we need to talk. 

Your fingers hurriedly move to open up the multiple missed notifications that you have from her, holding the phone up to your ear so that you can listen to her voicemail next. 

“Hey… I know you’re probably still asleep right now,” you hear, her voice somber, as you listen to Astrid’s voicemail, left for you at three in the morning. “And I know that you’ve got your do not disturb on. But I really need to talk. Call me when you’re up.” 

Your heart pounds in your chest as your mind races with fears over what this could be about, and as your eyes scroll through the other missed notifications, you see something that stops you in your tracks: 

1 Missed Call from Joe

And it all suddenly feels real, a sense of dread fills your throat, and you can only imagine that it must be an emergency if both Astrid and Joe have called. Your mind races. It can’t be about Joe – if he called too, right?

The severity of the situation forces you to sit up straight as you steal a glance Luca’s way. You’re grateful that he’s such a heavy sleeper as you peel the covers back, tiptoeing out into the living room so that you don’t wake Luca. Your fingers shake as they hover over Astrid’s name, before tapping down on the screen so that you can give her a call back. 

It only rings twice before Astrid answers, a tiredness in the way her voice sounds, as if she hasn’t slept all night. 

“Hey, Astrid. What’s going on?” you ask, a panic that colors your voice as you wait for her reply. 

The anticipation builds in every moment of silence she leaves between the two of you. 

“It’s mum. Ehm…” she trails off, her voice breaking. 

No. 

It’s as if your worst nightmare is coming true – like no matter how many times you’ve rehearsed this scenario in your head, prepared for it, braced for it, nothing softens the blow of the words that Astrid utters. 

“She’s gone. She passed. Early this morning,” Astrid finally says, a sob following. “We’re still at the hospital right now.” 

As Astrid begins to cry, you let her, even though you feel like you can’t breathe. Through her tears, she tries her best to explain what happened and you can feel yourself going numb as you listen. You can barely process what she’s saying as the words wash over you, a deep pain building in your belly with each detail she shares: that mum hadn’t been feeling well late last night, that she had a fever of 104 F and that’s when they knew she had to be taken to the hospital, that she passed a few hours later. 

It was sudden. 

It was quick. 

And now, Astrid’s whole world – your whole world, and Joe’s – has changed forever.

All you can do is attempt to breathe, to listen, and try your best not to drop your phone as your hands tremble.

You can feel it, a sickening feeling that wells up from your belly and into your throat as you croak out:

“Astrid, I’m so sorry.”

“After everything we’ve been through, all the rounds of chemo… I just can’t believe that overnight she’s gone,” Astrid whispers, tears falling down her cheeks. “I just-, I thought we’d have more time.”

“I know. Me too,” you agree quietly. 

It doesn’t feel real, and you wonder if you’re just in denial. 

“I’m so sorry to call like this. But I thought you should know,” Astrid apologizes, clearing her throat as she continues. “‘M sure I ruined your high from the all-night shag-fest with the hot pastry chef, now didn’t I?”

You chuckle, in response to her attempt to lighten the mood. 

“No, it’s okay. I’m glad you called,” you reassure her, your voice soft. 

“I’ve got to go. Joe and I are going to try to grab something to eat and ehm, try to get a hold of Lina. I’ll keep you posted on everything. On all the details, you know… about… anything we do,” Astrid informs you, trying her best to pull herself together.  

“But I just wanted you to know and ehm, well, I know Joe called.”

“No, I-. Yeah,” you stammer through, at a loss for words. “I… I’ll give him a call. And thank you… for calling me. Thank you for telling me.”

Astrid nods solemnly, “She loved you like one of us.”

You swallow, as a stream of tears streak your cheeks 

“Yeah I… I love – loved – her too.” 

You clear your throat, unaware that your hands have begun to shake. 

“And please keep me posted. I’d like to be there… at the funeral. If you think it’s appropriate.”

“‘Course,” Astrid agrees. “I love you. Call you later?”

“Please. And… yes,” you say, adding if it’s a promise:

“I love you too.”

As soon as you hang up the phone, it’s as if your body knows something you don’t – like your brain hasn’t quite processed the news, racing your body to intellectualize everything you’ve just heard, so your body has to take over instead. Your stomach flips, and suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with the urge to vomit. You sprint to your small apartment bathroom, throwing the toilet seat up with a clang as you begin to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet, in an uncontrollable physical response.

The sound of you retching, coughing up the last of it, seems to wake up Luca. You brace yourself against the toilet, flushing it as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. Your body feels fragile and your mind races as you reach behind you for the towel that lays folded over your towel bar, clutching it towards you. 

“My love, is everything alright?” you hear his voice, as Luca stirs, sitting up in bed. 

The sound of his footsteps heading towards you fill your ears, and as they get closer and closer to you, Luca appears in the doorway, his eyes squinting from how jarring of a wakeup he’s just had. You look up at him, noticing the way his face has twisted itself into a look of concern, swallowing as you rack your brain, searching for a way to explain what just happened. 

“Well, the good news is that I’m not pregnant,” is all that comes out, in sheer disbelief that you’ve chosen to make a joke at this moment. Luca only looks more concerned, more worried, more confused, so you shake your head this time, muttering an apology under your breath. “Uh… remember when I told you… my ex’s mom… she got really sick and we had to move to the UK because of it?”

“Yeah,” he answers, unsure of what this has to do with why you’re stuck to the bathroom floor. 

“I-. Astrid, his sister, just called. She uh…” you trail off, because it feels like you can’t get the words out of your mouth – like if you say it out loud, it’d make it all the more real. 

Your voice, this time much somber, croaks out the words, and you feel sick to your stomach again.

“She passed… last night,” you finally say again, a wave of nausea coming over you. 

“Oh, my love,” Luca sighs empathetically, as his heart falls at the news. “I’m so sorry.”

But before he can say anything else, you’re folded over the toilet once more, caught up in a competition with your own body of which could be worse: dry heaving or vomiting. Instead of leaving, Luca takes a few steps towards you, sitting down next to you as he rubs soothing patterns across your back, as you work this out. What feels like forever, and simultaneously, barely a few seconds, your back is pressed against the wall as you try your best to get your heart rate back down. 

The cold floor and the rigid wall that you’ve pressed your back against feels grounding, perhaps the only thing tethering you to this world. Luca sits with you quietly, but his presence can be felt in tonnes. It’s strong, steady, comforting, with care and love in every single touch and touch he sends your way. 

After a few minutes of letting you stare at the wall blankly, Luca gets up, kneeling on his knees as he offers his hands to you. 

“C’mon. Let’s get you some water and back into bed,” Luca suggests. “I’ll call Jesper and Mathilde. Let them know you’re not going in today.”

You nod, sliding both of your hands into his as he helps to your feet. 

-------------------------------

“How are you doing, babe?” Luca asks you, as you wake up from your nap. 

You’re grateful that he called in today, after the news, and called in for you as well. After your phone call with Astrid, not to mention hurling the entire contents of your stomach (and then some) into the toilet this morning, you’d crawled back into bed and fallen asleep. It hadn’t been great sleep – more so an avoidance mechanism than anything else, you realize – as you begin to come to. 

“Jesper was just here. Came by to drop off food,” Luca adds, as you move onto your side so that you can face him. “They’re worried about you.”

“I’m not hungry,” is all you manage to say. 

He nods, “For later maybe.” 

He pauses, before repeating his question from earlier. 

“How are you doing? What can I do?

You think it over, only slightly upset with yourself for being annoyed at his question. Of course he’s only trying to be helpful, only trying to care for you through this horrible thing. But it’s not like there’s anything he can do to take your pain away either, which, it’s silly you know, is what bothers you so much about his ask. 

But as you look over at the man who wants nothing more than to love you, and you know he’s only trying to be helpful in an unwinnable situation.

You muster up your best smile, because you want to reassure him that you’re sort of-kind-of-okay, and you’d rather try than be a jerk right now. 

“Come back to bed?” you ask him, your voice lifting at the end of the question. “I think I just want you to hold me.”

“Sounds like something that could be arranged,” Luca replies with a smile on his face, in an attempt to lighten up the mood a little. 

As you lay on your side, Luca curls up behind you, engulfing you in his arms as he presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, tangling his legs with yours underneath the covers. And you’re right. It does make you feel better – being held by him – and you’re glad that you chose not to push him away. 

After a few beats, and a thick silence between the two of you, Luca finally speaks again.

“Do you want to tell me about her?”

Do you?

You debate with yourself whether or not you want to, because on one hand you feel weird about it – asking Luca to listen to you talk about how much you loved your ex husband’s mother – and on the other, you’re afraid. 

Afraid it’ll hurt too much. 

Afraid it may break you open. 

Eventually, the part of you that leans towards saying ‘yes’ wins, as you answer with:

“Yeah. I think that might be helpful.” 

Luca nods behind you, before nuzzling his nose into the space between your neck and your shoulders. He leaves soft kisses against your skin that have no intention of being anything but a comforting gesture. 

“Astrid said something on the phone earlier. That she loved me like one of them,” you start, your voice caught in your throat as you say it. 

“And she did. She embraced me as her own… like…” you trail off, chuckling as you recall your favorite memories of Aiko Kimura. 

“She was beyond upset to learn that I didn’t grow up pleating dumplings around the table when I was a kid, which was… I think maybe the first thing we ever cooked together. She pulled out all the stops. Made a huge thing of it and made Joe, Astrid, and Lina join us so that I could get the real family experience.”

“And every time after that… she always wanted to teach me something new, something I could learn, carry with me,” you continue, the memories so fond and the feeling so bittersweet. 

“She was all about… slowing down, using the senses, no-recipe kind of stuff. I think it’s where I got so much of my heart from. In my food.”

You’re really not sure how you’re keeping it together, but, you decide, you might as well lean into the sweetness for now. 

“I should do a dish. For her. At the restaurant,” you declare, coming to the conclusion as the words leave your lips. 

“I think that’s a great idea,” Luca agrees, leaving another soft kiss along your shoulder. 

“To honor her. You know?” you add. 

Luca only hums in response, his arms wrapped around your frame holding you tighter against his chest. 

You wait a beat. 

Then another, your thoughts, moving a mile a minute from being plunged into grief from this devastating loss. 

“I’m nervous – about going to London,” you confess, softly. You like to ask, usually, if it’s okay – if Luca wants to hear about these kinds of things – but it feels virtually unavoidable. 

“I haven’t been back since Joe and I divorced… since I moved here. But I think I should. For the funeral.”

“Do you think it’ll be soon?” Luca asks, as you turn your head to look at him, checking that this is a conversation he’s willing to have. 

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I’m waiting for Astrid to tell me. But Lina’s, their youngest sister, has been studying abroad – Singapore – so… I don’t know.”

“I’m just nervous… about it all, I guess. A lot’s changed. I’ve… changed.”

At this point you’re just thinking out loud, no longer able to contain the stream of consciousness that flows from with an ease that makes you anxious. 

Of course, you’ve changed. You have a new life here. You’re a you that you’ve never been before, having shed the layers of your past self like a snake shedding its skin. The realization is striking, while your ambivalence to return to your previous home in your new form feels more and more significant. 

It’s Luca’s turn to be quiet as he thinks over whether or not the idea in his head is appropriate to suggest, figuring, the worst thing you can do is say ‘no.’ 

“I could go with you,” he offers, quiet, yet sure. 

Oh. 

“But if you don’t feel like it would be right… under the circumstances…” Luca continues, in fear of making things more complicated for you. 

“No I-. What do you-, like… in what capacity?” you interject, hesitant about the question that you’re bringing up. 

You’re not sure why it’s taken this long for either of you to articulate it, especially since you’ve already called him your boyfriend to your friends, to your mom, but the naming, the voicing of the sacred label is still something you haven’t done. 

You don’t want to overcomplicate things, considering it already feels complicated, so what you’re really asking him is:

How would I introduce you?

“I was thinking… as your boyfriend,” Luca answers, slowly. “But if you think it’s too much – introducing me during this-.” 

“No, I. Yes! I want to,” you’re quick to reply, reassuring him that you’re still all in, even in the midst of this loss – especially in the midst of this loss. You wiggle your body so that you’re now facing him, your chests pressed together, and you wonder if he can feel yours pounding away. 

“Yes. I want you to come. I… I want to introduce you to them… to everyone, as my boyfriend.”

Seemingly satisfied with the answer, Luca leans in to press a short kiss to your lips before nodding in agreement: “Okay.”

You wait a beat, almost as if you think he’ll take it back, considering the circumstances. Only, he doesn’t, so you have to ask. 

“You would really do that?”

“Yeah,” he replies, simply. 

“I mean.. It’s just going to be a lot. It’s… a fucking funeral,” you continue to list, giving him every ‘out’ that you can possibly think of. “And you’d have to meet Joe. Which I can only imagine will be incredibly uncomfortable considering the circumstances and I’m not even sure what to expect because Joe and I have barely talked in months and I-.” 

You know you’re rambling, but you can’t help yourself. 

“Luca, I don’t know if I can ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to, my love. I offered,” he says, as one of his hands cradles your head, his eyes on yours. 

“Plus, I don’t have to be with you the whole time. I know it’s going to be a tough trip for a lot of reasons. I could give you some space while we’re there too, so you don’t feel you have to entertain me. I’ll go see my mum, catch up with a friend….”

His reassurance seems to quell your nerves and you’re no longer panicking (as much) about introducing your people to your new boyfriend while grieving the loss of their matriarch. But you want him there. You so want him there. You want his support, and when he’s so willingly offering it to you, volunteering to enter the lion’s den with you, how can you say ‘no?’

“Why are you so good to me?” is all that comes out of your mouth. 

“Because I-,” Luca begins, pausing as he carefully chooses his next few words. You watch as he debates with himself, his decision clear when he opens his mouth again to say:

“Because you deserve it, babe.”

It’s then and there that you wonder what he was going to say before, half expecting him to say, ‘because I love you.’ 

But he doesn’t, and in some ways, you’re glad that whatever internal decision he made, that it wasn’t that. It’s not that you don’t want him to, because you’ve been feeling it too. It’s in every pause before you hang up the phone with him. It’s in the moments that you say your goodbyes for the morning or the evening that you watch the impulse, though fleeting, flash through his eyes. It’s in the way that you feel it so deeply in your bones that it makes you ache in the best kinds of ways. 

 You don’t want your first ‘I love you’ to be tainted with the grief and sadness surrounding this moment, but it’s been on your mind ever since your trip to Skagen. You think maybe you dreamed it, hearing him call you the love of his life, but whether or not it was real, those three words have hung heavily between the two of you ever since. 

“Thank you,” is all you say, before you repeat it again. 

“Thank you.”

-------------------------------

Everything feels off. You can’t cry. 

And you’ve tried. 

But ever since Luca left to run an errand, to run to the store, you’ve felt off-kilter. 

Perhaps it’s because you’ve had him to distract you this whole time. 

Perhaps it’s because you’re trying to be strong for everyone: for Astrid, for Lina, who you’ve been texting with all day – trying to coordinate a time to FaceTime – for yourself. 

Perhaps it’s because you haven’t called Joe yet. 

But, you’ve decided, you really need to cry. 

You pick up the phone, knowing exactly what you need to do, knowing exactly who you can let yourself completely fall apart with. 

The phone rings a few times before the person on the other line picks up, and as soon as you hear the silence on the other line, waiting for you to speak first since you called first. 

“Mom?”

And she can hear it in your voice as it breaks, concern and worry filling her every word and she asks: 

“Oh sweetie. What happened?”

And finally, you can let go.

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Crosshair's Character in TBB: A Study

“Loyalty means everything to the clones,”- Anakin Skywalker

I wanted to start my study with this quote because it basically personifies who Crosshair is as a person. Over the course of three seasons (plus CW), there is no doubt that Crosshair is arguably the most well-written and developed member of the Bad Batch. His journey and inner conflict isn’t neatly wrapped up in a little box and tied with a cute bow in only one season. No, his journey spans the entire show. It is very compelling, filled with a deep inner conflict, broken relationships, and the struggle to find one’s self again. In this study, I wanted to look at the major themes of his character and how his relationship to them has changed. 

Loyalty

Crosshair’s strongest and best quality is loyalty. It is everything to him and it’s why he reacts so strongly when the Batch leaves him in “Aftermath.” However, misplaced loyalty is dangerous, especially when it’s blinding. The core struggle of his character, specifically in season 1 and 2, is discovering who is worth his loyalty. Crosshair isn’t the type of person to just save his own skin when things get bad; S3 disputes that multiple times. As rude and off-putting as he can be, Crosshair cares deeply for others. Unfortunately, it’s the choices he makes and where he invests his loyalty that conflict arises. 

The Worth of Loyalty

A part of understanding Crosshair is understanding how far he will go for those he’s loyal to. 

“Do you know why they put me in charge? It’s because I’m willing to do what needs to be done.”

This line is stone-cold, but remove the context and apply it to Crosshair in general. It speaks volumes. Crosshair isn’t driven by some moral compass like Echo or Omega are. He’s not loyal to some grand cause. He’s loyal to people who’ve earned his respect. He’s loyal to those who value his skills as a sniper. Crosshair will not hesitate to go to extreme lengths for others. He killed Tawi Ames because he is a soldier of the Empire. He dragged a half-dead Mayday back to base because Mayday saved his life and showed him compassion. He went back to Tantiss for Omega because she saved him and he loves her. Crosshair’s journey is about him discovering who is worth that kind of loyalty. Who is worth dragging someone through sheer hell even though the optimal solution would be to just leave them? As Crosshair learns, it’s not the Empire.

The question remains, who is worth his loyalty? The answer is simple: Omega, his brothers, and other kind people such as Mayday and Cody. But Crosshair’s loyalty is severely misguided at first. There are a multitude of reasons as to why. One of the most obvious reasons is due to his fractured relationship with his brothers. By the time the entire Batch reunites in “Return to Kamino,” Crosshair can’t help but voice his pain and anger.

“They don’t leave their own behind… most of the time.” “You weren’t loyal to me.”

Due to the chip, Crosshair doesn’t understand why they left him. Did years of loyalty from Crosshair mean nothing to them? Did their relationship as brothers mean nothing? At that point in the story, he hasn’t realized how damaging the Empire is to him. So, he turns his anger to the group of people who meant more to him than anything else in the entire galaxy. And his anger isn’t completely unjustified. He was deeply hurt and he didn’t know why. Unfortunately, his beliefs about the Empire and struggle with identity push the Batch away. But as Crosshair’s feelings were continually challenged by others and his environment, he started realizing just how deep of a hole he’d gotten himself into. Crosshair’s brand of loyalty is something the chip absolutely would take advantage of. It’s fixating and fierce, hard to break. Only something severe such as removal or damage can break it. 

In S3, we get an exchange between Rampart and Crosshair. Rampart comments that Crosshair used to believe good soldiers followed orders. Crosshair responds that it depends on who’s giving them. This statement is absolutely true. Rampart doubts that Crosshair has changed, but it is Rampart who hasn’t changed. Both were betrayed by the Empire, but only one recognized where he went wrong. Crosshair now understands that his deep and fierce loyalty belongs to those who won’t hurt him or others he cares about. Loyalty is reciprocal and not to be taken for granted. This is a sentiment he shares with Howzer.

“Loyalty meant something to me. But with the Empire it didn’t go both ways.”

But Rampart can’t understand that because he’s only loyal to himself. And when you’re only loyal to yourself, you don’t care who around you falls. 

The Empire: An Environment of Shame

Why doesn’t Crosshair see just how bad the Empire is? That’s an argument I see often, but I think it’s important to understand just how manipulative and demonizing the Empire really is. Crosshair deeply internalizes his identity as a soldier. His value comes from his skills and if he can’t do his job properly, he will be discarded. The Empire is an echo chamber of that insecurity. 

“There are other ways of producing loyal soldiers”- Rampart

Rampart, Tarkin, Nolan… the faces of many imperials who remind Crosshair of what happens if his loyalty falters. He will be discarded. All around him, Crosshair hears the imperials speak about replacing the clones. They speak about the value of loyalty. It pushes him to keep proving his loyalty to the Empire. Crosshair is a sensitive soul despite appearances and he internalizes what others say around him. 

“Not the ones that matter.”- Cross to Hunter about the Empire phasing out clones

If Crosshair can continue fulfilling his purpose, then he will be spared, or at least that’s what he tells himself. We see this in real life too. Social media can influence others by feeding into their egos, only to rip them apart should they step out of line. It’s the same scenario with Crosshair. Rampart mocks Cody’s absence and talks about clone loyalty not being what it was advertised. Crosshair tenses up at his words, clearly bothered, until Rampart asks if he has a problem and then dismisses the issue without a care. The Empire makes Crosshair feel so alone. But he’s a soldier, right? This is where he belongs, right?

Compare that environment to the one put forth by Omega and Mayday. Omega is warm and compassionate. She cares deeply for others, even when that person probably doesn’t deserve it. As Crosshair struggles, Omega remains nothing but encouraging. She believed in him from the very beginning. 

“You’re still more capable than most.”- Omega

Omega’s constant display of loyalty and affection towards him eventually wins Crosshair over. He finds himself in an environment where his fierce devotion is not only reciprocated but goes above and beyond. Mayday shows compassion to Crosshair even though he barely knows him. He also shares Crosshair’s unspoken frustration. The Empire didn’t care about the clones despite them being good soldiers who followed orders. When danger strikes, Mayday doesn’t hesitate to protect Crosshair. Once again, it’s this reciprocated loyalty that shows Crosshair the truth behind the curtain. The Empire is all take and no give. Omega and Mayday display the opposite; they give Crosshair their all and don’t expect him to grovel on his knees for their praise or friendship.

Identity

But loyalty is only one major aspect of his character. Crosshair’s willingness to stay with the Empire also stems from his struggle with his identity. Clones are taught to be loyal and the behavioral modification chip only reinforces that notion. For Crosshair, it’s not so easy to just throw away something he grew up his entire life hearing. Thus, he finds himself in conflict between his loyalty to his brothers, loyalty as a clone, and identity as a loyal soldier. It’s so heartbreaking to see him when the chip partially activates. The chip makes him so fixated on Order 66 and yet, he can’t help but still stay by his brothers’ side. It is only when the chip is enhanced that he attacks his brothers. 

The Soldier and the Clone

The moment they are born, the clones are raised to be soldiers. They have no say in their fates, only that they have one purpose in life. Crosshair is no ordinary clone though; he’s labeled as defective for looking and sounding different. However, he has exceptionally sharp vision. One of the first things established about the Bad Batch is that they use unorthodox methods and they’re very showy. They also have a 100% success rate. As a result, Crosshair views himself and his squad as “superior.” As a soldier in the Empire, he expects to get the same recognition. The Empire is fueled by individuals who love feeling powerful. For Crosshair, to get special treatment because he’s a “superior” clone definitely would feed his ego. Unfortunately, the Empire also will pull the plug on anyone at any time. On Kamino, being defective is a death sentence. But Crosshair’s enhancement makes him useful; it’s why he was kept around. Interestingly, the more isolated Crosshair became in his time with the Empire, the more he began to seek companionship with the regs. S2 sees Crosshair shed his views that he’s a “superior” clone. He slowly begins to accept the fact that he and the other clones aren’t actually that different. We see this change in many ways: he tries to sit with the regs, he enjoys going on a mission with Cody, and he quickly gets attached to Mayday. 

Crosshair’s journey of accepting himself as a clone and finding companionship with others outside his squad humbles him and makes him an overall kinder person. It is integral in how he becomes disillusioned with the Empire. The Empire makes him feel so alone. Look at his room in “The Solitary Clone;” it’s no better than his cell on Tantiss. “Nat-borns” don’t understand what it is like to be a clone and his squad isn’t there anymore, so Crosshair turns to “regs.” He starts realizing that their experiences under the Empire aren’t much different from his. It’s Mayday and the mission on Barton IV that really pushes him over the edge. Mayday, a reg, understands him more than he’d like to admit. He’s lonely and feels like his efforts aren’t enough. 

Crosshair has let the Empire mistreat and abuse him for months, but eventually he snaps. He can’t do this anymore. He’s a person. Mayday is a person. Has his and Maydy’s loyalty meant nothing? Has the loyalty of the clones in general meant nothing? 

A clone’s identity is intrinsically tied to being a soldier. Why did Crosshair stay with the Empire? A simple answer is it gave him a purpose. Crosshair deeply internalizes his role as both a sniper and a soldier. He can’t see himself in another role as it is all he has known. What will happen when that’s taken away from him? Crosshair struggles with that exact dilemma. As I said early, being defective and unable to fulfill being a soldier means decommissioning and being discarded. I’ll bet this is why Crosshair struggles breaking away from his soldier mindset. He was taught to be loyal and there is no place for him if he can’t fulfill his purpose. Let’s take a look at his role as a sniper. Crosshair’s role is to wait on the outskirts and observe for danger. He’s supposed to keep his team safe from afar and spot trouble before it strikes. He’s a protector. That role gets shaken when his tremor starts. What happens to Crosshair if he can’t shoot? What happens to his brothers? 

S3 introduces the arc of Crosshair learning to accept help from others and becoming more than a soldier. A sniper is supposed to be distant, a loner, and always on the lookout. Once that role is challenged, suddenly, Crosshair realizes he can’t do this alone. He initially tries via brushing it off or shaking his hand. But it’s not enough. Both Hunter and Omega grow concerned. Omega takes the initiative and gently encourages Crosshair to try meditation with her. Even if it doesn’t work, the fact that he tries already speaks volumes. Throughout the season, Crosshair tries multiple times to do things alone. However, Hunter declines that proposal and says they should work together. The most glaring example is the climax of "The Cavalry Has Arrived." Crosshair is missing his dominant hand, weakened from his injury, and on top of that, it’s pouring rain and Hemlock has handcuffed himself to Omega. It is only through the help of his siblings that Crosshair makes the shot. He did it with the support of his family. 

In relying on his family, Crosshair becomes more than a sniper. He becomes more than a soldier. Even if he had his hand, Crosshair still would’ve had to overcome the huge barrier of making a steady shot. Either way, Crosshair overcomes by accepting the love and help from his family. Looking back, I’m really glad that this was a part of his arc. Crosshair has spent so much of the show alone, having to rely on himself and his skill to survive. But as time passes, he learns that it’s ok to have help. As people, we’re not meant to carry all our burdens alone. Crosshair learns he doesn’t have to remain distant all the time to protect others; sometimes, our greatest strength comes from each other.

The Beauty of Self-Worth

“Omega, don’t risk anything for me. I belong in here.” (This line is one of the most heartbreaking lines in the entire show). “So, I’m doing this alone. It’s what I deserve.”

A smaller, but just as important arc, is Crosshair’s journey of forgiveness. By “Tipping Point,” Crosshair has largely tackled his inner conflict. He knows who deserves his loyalty and who doesn’t. He realizes that he isn’t so different from the other clones. However, the guilt from his actions still lingers. Although he gets his message out, everything else fails. Tech dies, Omega is captured, and he doesn’t know what happened to the others. Crosshair suffers for a long 5 months due to Hemlock’s conditioning. His days are filled with the same mundane (and painful) routine and there is no sign of hope… that is, except for Omega. No matter what happened in the past, Omega undying love for him never yields. 

“None of us belong in here.”- Omega 

Omega’s words are reassuring and they hit Crosshair in a way he doesn’t expect. How can he, who has done these terrible things and has been forgotten by the world, be worth kindness? For all the times he said/did something cruel to Omega, she still came back for him. It’s Omega’s compassion that helps push Crosshair to finding his own self-worth. She loves him when nothing seems to be working for him. She encourages him to talk to his brothers. Crosshair wants to be accepted and belong again with his brothers. But up until that point in the narrative, everything around him seems to tell him the opposite. 

As much as I would’ve liked more from Hunter, I’m still glad he and Crosshair are able to have a conversation. In “The Return,” Crosshair admits how wrong he was. To come to terms with the darker parts of one’s self is important in forgiveness and the courage to do so is immense. There are things in life we as people can all do better. It’s what makes us human. The last time Crosshair interacted with his brother, it devolved into anger and pain-fueled argument. Crosshair so desperately wanted his brothers back, but it had to be on his terms. As the brothers fight again, Hunter antagonizes him into getting answers. A quick “blink and you’ll miss it” moment is that Cross’ hand trembles when Hunter brings up betrayal. Crosshair initially clamps up before biting back, blaming Hunter for Omega’s capture. But as both brothers learn to realize, both of them need to do better. The past hurts immensely because of that broken bond. Now, they have the opportunity to mend it. 

“I have regrets too, Crosshair. All we can do is keep trying to be better and who knows? There just might be hope for us yet.”- Hunter

Like Omega, Hunter’s words offer reassurance and comfort. Can Crosshair, a person who hurt his family, be worth that forgiveness? Hunter’s words all but confirm that Crosshair is forgiven in his eyes. Crosshair’s struggle to find forgiveness and worth in himself is eased by the people who he cares for the most. Even something simple as a hug from Wrecker catches him off guard, but it’s something that tells him “you’re loved and wanted.” As the vulture leaves the outpost, Crosshair slowly learns to forgive himself for what happened. 

It all culminates in the hug he gets from Omega in “The Cavalry Has Arrived.” Crosshair believed he deserved to die in order to atone. After everything he’s done and been through, does he still deserve a happy ending when it’s all over? Omega’s hug says yes. Tantiss is the heart of his pain and agony. In another world, Crosshair would never have set foot there if he chose differently. Perhaps Omega wouldn’t have suffered there. Perhaps Tech would still be alive… Without any hesitation, Omega wraps her arms around Crosshair and he is shocked. She reaches over to pull Hunter in and Hunter wraps his other arm around Crosshair, holding him close. And without any words, Crosshair leans in and closes his eyes. As the trio begin to head back to the shuttle, it’s Crosshair who reaches out and places his stump on Omega’s shoulder. In doing something as simple as leaning into the embrace, Crosshair accepts the love he is given. He lets himself be loved and understands that he is worthy of that love. 

This isn’t the end of Crosshair’s journey, of course. Crosshair has a very long and difficult road ahead of him. No, his PTSD wasn’t stored in his hand. Cutting off his hand isn’t a magical “cure” for it. Crosshair still has to work through a lot and he will. The big difference is that he knows he doesn’t have to work through it alone. With the help of his family, Crosshair can continue that journey of healing he began in “Bad Territory.” He’s so loved because he’s Crosshair, a brother, a protector, with fierce loyalty that could never be truly broken. 

Anyways, we’ve reached the end of my character study. Thank you all for reading. Crosshair is a very complex character and one who faces many trials. But no matter how many times he falls, he always finds a way to pick himself back up. At the end, he makes it. Crosshair has learned a lot, but I’m grateful that TBB team chose a long and complex route for him. Because guess what? Healing and growing as a person isn’t a “one size fits all” scenario. It’s a messy and difficult process. When all is said and done, Crosshair has one of the best realized redemption arcs in all of Star Wars and I couldn’t be more thrilled with how it played out.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

So Many Questions Part 2

Prompt: You’re pulled in for questioning by NCIS and are quickly surprised to see your ex-boyfriend as your interrogator.

Notes: Some characters are post Season 11

Part 1

————

The sounds of music played loudly throughout your home as you moved from one room to the next, deep clean mode engaged. It was the only thing that you could focus on enough to get Jethro out of your head. He hadn’t called or texted you since the interrogation, not that you wanted him to, it would only make the ache in your heart worse.

You wish the end of your relationship had ended differently. You wished Jethro didn’t push you away so much when his work got the best of him. You wished you made a little more of an effort to be patient and understanding of his feelings and how he processes things. And most of all, you wished you hadn’t ended it in a huge fight.

You looked down at the dishes you were doing, surprised they hadn’t broken in half from your very aggressive scrubbing and sighed. Your thoughts were interrupted by a strong knock at the door and your heart skipped a beat. Was it Jethro?

Drying your hands quickly, you went over to the front door and opened it, face falling when you only saw your assistant Cheryll. She looked extremely distraught, worrying you.

“What’s up Cheryll? Everything alright?”

“Can I come in?”

“Uh, sure.” You opened the door wider so she could come in and shut it behind her. She walked into the living room, looking around, almost as if to look for someone.

“You ok?”

“Yeah, I just gotta do something and I really don’t want to.”

“What do you m-

Your question was cut short when she pulled out a gun and pointed it at you. Your hands immediately raised in surrender.

“Cheryll. What the hell are you doing?”

“I don’t want to do this Y/N! But he told me that you were a loose end and that if I didn’t kill you, I wouldn’t get my share of the money. I can’t afford to lose out on that.” She had tears in her eyes and both hands were shaking as they gripped the gun.

“Cheryll, listen. You don’t have to do this. I don’t know anything, I swear.”

“Stop! It doesn’t matter any more! I have to do this!”

You knew there was no convincing her so now you had to think differently. She’s clearly never fired a gun which made you wonder how fast would she be able to pull the trigger if you charged her? It was your only option but the small thought of the plan not working out made you hesitate.

“NCIS! Open up!”

The sudden outburst caused Cheryll to look away and gave you the perfect window to charge for the gun. You grabbed it and tried pulling it out of her grasp but she had a death grip on it. A shot rang out and you realized she had her finger on the trigger as a searing burning pain shot up your arm.

You both twisted and turned, trying to get control of the weapon as you heard your front door bust open.

“Drop the gun!”

You weren’t about to let go and give Cheryll the opportunity to shoot you just because Jethro and his team showed up so you pushed all your weight into her and used your leg to hook under and trip her. The both of you fell to the floor but Cheryll took most of the impact, causing her to let go of the gun, giving you the chance to take it and point it at her.

She cowered against the wall, hands up, but you were pissed. How could she even fathom killing an innocent person just for some money?

“Y/N. Give me the gun.” You heard Jethro’s voice but it was muffled over the sound of your heart beating in your ears. It wasn’t until you saw him come up next to you and put his hand on your arm, that you listened.

He took the gun from you as the rest of his team grabbed Cheryll and put her in cuffs. Your left shoulder was burning and throbbing like all hell and you looked down to see your shirt covered in blood.

“It looks like just a graze wound. Come on. I’ll take you to the hospital,” Jethro offered softly, guiding you towards the front door. You were silent, still trying to wrap your head around what just happened.

On the road to the hospital, Jethro explained to you that Ian Chandler was the murderer they were looking for and he had Petty Officer Dravel killed just as she was about to blow the whistle on him. He also told you that he had paid Cheryll to snoop through your emails to see what evidence Dravel had and figured that you knew everything as well so you were the next target.

“It’s not safe to go back to your house,” Jethro advised as the doctor finished stitching you up.

“Well what am I suppose to do? Live out of a hotel room until you guys find the bastard? Who knows how long that will take, and I don’t have the money for that.”

“You can stay with me.”

You looked at him in disbelief but he stared right back at you with that same stoic expression he always wore.

“No. Not happening. I’m staying at my own house and you’re not gonna stop me.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?” You were confused that he gave up the argument so quickly. The Jethro you knew would’ve fought tooth and nail to get what he wanted.

“If you want to stay at your place then fine.”

You were shocked. This isn’t Jethro. This was an imposter. He didn’t say another word on it as you were discharged and he drove you back to your house. He followed you out of the car, grabbing a backpack on the way and escorted you to your front door that had a crime scene seal on it.

Inside, everything was the same except for some blood stains on the floor and a nice bullet hole in your dining room wall. You turned to Jethro to bid goodbye but he was already in your living room, putting his backpack on the couch and taking a seat.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“Well since you refuse to listen to me and come to my house, I’ll just have to stay here and make sure you’re safe.”

Now you understood. That’s why he didn’t put up a fight. He had a plan the whole time. And you let him right in! Damn him.

“Well you can take the couch. I turned the guest bedroom into my office a while back.”

“Fine by me. Nothing I haven’t done before,” he replied with a small smirk.

You weren’t sure if he was referring to himself always sleeping on his couch at home or taking a jab at the memories of him always sleeping on your couch whenever you two got into fights. Whichever it was, you ignored it and went into the kitchen to grab supplies for your bloody floor.

You never realized how hard dried blood was to get up off the floor until you sat there scrubbing tediously with one good arm. Jethro was on the phone with his team as they all spitballed ideas of where Ian Chandler could be hiding.

“Well call me when you have something,” he ordered gruffly before hanging up.

The ball in the out of your stomach was getting worse as you racked your brain, trying to come up with a way to talk with him about the two of you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t still have feelings for him. And you doubted he still had any for you by the way he acted. In any case, if you were going to talk with him about anything, you needed a drink first.

Deciding that your floor was as clean as it was gonna get, you washed your hands and began making yourself a drink. As you poured your liquid courage, you could see your hand shaking. All of a sudden, a sudden wave of anxiety shot through your body, almost taking the air out of your lungs. Your vision became blurry as you realized you were crying.

“Y/N? You alright?” Jethro’s voice asked from the other room.

“Yeah. Just getting a drink,” you croaked out.

Putting the bottle down before you dropped it, you closed your eyes and tried getting ahold of yourself. So much had happened in just one day and you could only keep up a brave face for so long. You literally almost died today. For no reason.

You took a couple of breaths, not really wanting to breakdown in front of your ex-boyfriend.

“Hey,” you heard behind you, making you jump.

You turned your head and saw Jethro standing there. Giving up, you walked over and was immediately pulled into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you as sobs racked your body.

Scenes from earlier played in your head and you honestly wondered if you would even be alive if it wasn’t for him and his team coming when they did. Your arms held him tight as well, afraid that if you didn’t, you would just fall to the floor. He caressed your head and just stayed like that with you until your crying ceased.

Breathing in his familiar scent, it brought back all the good memories you two shared. Cuddling on his couch watching old movies. Or down in his basement as he taught you what a wood planer did. Most of all, the nights where you lied tangled with each other in bed, him holding you close, making you feel so safe and loved.

You didn’t want to pull away but did and ran your shaky hands through your hair. He gently wiped your tear stained face and gave a small smile. God he looked so kissable right now.

“Stop giving me that look,” he said lowly, looking down at your lips.

“What look?” you asked innocently, becoming flushed at his intense gaze.

“You know what one.”

You could’ve easily leaned in for the kiss but chickened out at the last second and turned to grab the glass of whiskey you poured, taking a big sip, grimacing at the fire it lit down your throat. Then you poured him one and turned back to give it to him. He gave a silent thanks and the both of you walked back into the living room to sit on the couch. If Jethro gave any indication he was uncomfortable with the silence, he didn’t let you know as you gathered up the muster to start the conversation.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed you until I saw you today. It made me think about how we ended things-

“You. You ended things,” he corrected, taking a sip. The slight bitterness in his tone just reminded you how much you regretted the way things ended.

“I know. I know I did. And honestly, I regret it. I regret a lot of things Jethro. But it was a two way street. You shut me out. You put this..wall between us constantly and wouldn’t let me in.”

He stayed silent so you continued.

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t have enough patience in our relationship. I know your job is tough and you can’t always tell me everything but I never wanted you to keep it bottled up. I hate that we- I ended it on such a bad note. I wish I could do it over again.”

You looked at him as he stared off into the distance but you knew he was listening.

“I just wanted to get that all off my chest. I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me after you guys catch this guy but I can’t lie to myself and say I’m not still in love with you Jet.”

That’s when he looked over at you.

“Someone once told me that you are allowed to be both a masterpiece and a work in progress.”

You tilted your head in curiosity at his poetic answer and he chuckled to himself.

“I’m saying I forgive you. And I’m sorry too. I did shut you out and I shouldn’t have. You’ve always been the best thing that’s happened to me and when you left, you took a part of me with you.”

His words brought the tears back into your eyes, giving you the utmost sense of relief. He doesn’t hate you.

“Don’t start crying again. You know I hate seeing you cry,” he told you with a smile, knowing your tears were happy.

“You know I’m an emotional wreck Jet.” You dried your tears with your shirt and reached for his hand, him taking it without hesitation.

“Thank you.”

He just leaned in to give you a soft kiss on the corner of your lips, leaving you breathless.

“Since I’m the guest, I get to pick the movie,” he stated, smirking and grabbing the tv remote from the coffee table. You honestly could care less what western movie he planned on picking, you were on Cloud 9. You probably won’t get back together but you had your Jethro back and that’s all that mattered.

Note: Part 3? I know these 2 parts were more of a slow burn but I could pick up the pace in the next part. Let me know!

[shinjisdone]

To Soften a Warrior’s Heart (Vinland Saga; Thorfinn; Part 10, Finale of S1)

In which you have joined Askeladd’s band…and grow closer to the Son of Thors. Though it is more difficult than anyone can could ever imagine…

[Headcanons of how it would be like to meet and crawl your way into Thorfinn’s heart (based on season 1; both platonic and romantic)]

Part 1 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 14 and how he is at that age

Part 2 is here - meeting Thorfinn at the age of 16/17 + headcanons of growing closer (slightly following s1 story)

Part 3 is here - blooming friendship with Thorfinn (slightly following s1 story)

Part 4 is here - Thorfinn unwittingly opening his heart as he realizes he does not want you to die

Part 5.1 is here - sweet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 5.2 is here - other sweet things Thorfinn would do for you (headcanons)

Part 6 is here - meeting Canute and becoming his guard - Thorfinn accepts your relationship and bond

Part 7 is here - Canute grieving over Ragnar and Thorkell catching up; Thorfinn leaves you alone for revenge

Part 8 is here - Thorfinn wins against Thorkell; Questioning your bond with Thorfinn

Part 9 is here - Meeting Leif and Thorfinn dueling Askeladd; Losing while Askeladd told him the truth of his constant losses

Tag list:

@luopenis , @jinsecho , @mitsureigen , @theknightssecrets

Mentions of murder, death, war, slave trade, harrasment against women and whatever awful things happened in the viking era. Only mentioned and used as examples. Mostly gender-neutral examples but female-leaning ones are there, too.]

[This part will specifically mention: Lost Thorfinn, you snapping, confrontation, crying and screaming, Thorfinn kinda losing it, depressive vibes, Thorfinn thinking about death, mentions of blood and snot, zombie Thorfinn, longing, abandonment]

It's Just Like A Burning Torch In A Storm, Like A Little Flower Blooming In A Home...

The weather has worsened as Askeladd predicted.

Even as it was past noon, the sky darkened in a warning as if it were the middle of the deadly night. Snowflakes that started out so lovely of how light they were, were now raining down like arrows and blurring the sight. You could barely see any light come from York and simply trotted after the footsteps your 'leaders' and 'liege' left behind.

You scoffed at the fear of the trails being hidden away by the upcoming storm at this pace, however. Dragging Thorfinn by his wrist would take forever until you'd find shelter.

You had told him to rest his broken arm in the sling but he let it swing with every little limp he managed after you. His good arm was just as lax and he barely let out any signs of pain of how utterly and crushingly tight you gripped his wrist as you dragged him after you. Hunched like a bell ringer, his pants and groans were as quiet as a mouse.

You bit your tongue. He barely paid any attention and just let you haul you around like a dog-

A thump. Thankfully you did not let your grip falter on him as he fell to his knees. Swallowing down a sigh, you turned around and tugged on his wrist. "C'mon. The snow is getting heavier."

Thorfinn hung his head.

"C'mon." You called out louder, tugging at him again. With a dreadfully slow pace, Thorfinn managed to lift one leg after another. After helping him up, you turned around to lead the way.

The same song all over again. The scenery did not seem to change, Askeladd and friends having vanished right under your nose. It felt like you were stranded on a place familiar yet far away. Freezing snowscapes weren't an ucommon sight and they surely were not with only Thorfinn as your company but this caving, this sharp chilliness that felt paralyzing as your heart seemed to give in the longer you dwelled here - as if this place was cursed - it was a first. It was all a first, daunting and frightening. Although, you doubted you could really pinpoint your feelings right now.

You let yourself sigh in frustration as Thorfinn fell once again. The crunching of the snow has become irritating and you snapped towards him. "Thorfinn. I know you can stand. You were running towards Askeladd just moments ago," You hoped it was 'just' moments ago, "Stand up already, don't have me haul you."

All you received was another groan. Another attempt but he kept on slipping. With a growl of your own you kneeled down to hold him under his arms. Heaving him with great effort, you almost slipped yourself as the blonde stayed limb, letting you lift him up with all your might. You felt like a mother with an grown man.

You scolded him again as he simply let himself lean on you once you were up on your feet - before pushing him away and giving him a good shake.

Still, he almsot tumbled down again.

"Thorfinn!" Yelling did not seem to effect him as well as his eyes, black and blue, narrow and swollen from the one-sided brawl, barely took in your figure. His brown eyes looked like they saw right through you, not even on eye level as he still did not walk straight, and it pissed you off.

Even breathing for air was painful, the sharp coldness of this barren, damned place wanting to cut into your lungs with each inhale as if taunting you, knowing that you rely on it now. Now, stuck in this forgotten land as the snow lies down on your shoulders. It's getting heavier and heavier, ringing in your ears as even they felt like falling off your head at any moment. They might as well. The biting wind, though gentle as it was, stealing any feeling you had in your bones.

Sniffing and swallowing your snot, you yanked at his arm again, swiftly turning around and trying to march after the fading footsteps as Thorfinn limped after.

The mere sound of crunching snapped the last strand of patience you so miraciously found within you and before the young man could completely slip again, he fell on his side instead as your fist collided with his face.

"You're a complete idiot!"

Thorfinn barely let out a sound. It made the fire within you rise.

"Askeladd was damn right! You're a moron! A godsforsaken fool! Idiot! Idiot, idiot, idiot!"

You stomped your foot, akin to a child, and Thorfinn wondered why you did not let him feel your ire instead, as he gazed up at you through lidded, swollen eyes. Though he did shakily gasp as you bent down and grabbed ahold of his shirt, holding him up to your level.

"The hell do you think you're doing here?! Huh?! What the hell are you doing here?! Answer me!" You threw him to the ground just as quickly. "You have people here that want you back to a home and you are crawling back to damn Askeladd out of all people! Vile, disgusting, bastard Askeladd!"

Your pants grew louder and louder, hands on your head, as they quickly snapped from brainless inhales to a growling, longing shriek - an animal squealing in pain.

"Do you have any idea - no, 'course you don't! You're a stupid mutt! You never think, never had any brains up there, did you?!" Piles of snow were thrown left and right, partly falling on Thorfinn, on his beaten body and face. He flinched at the contact. You kept on screeching. "You always end up like this. On the ground. Like a dog!" Again, you kicked snow his way, "When you could be somewhere else, somewhere far away that isn't here!"

You snapped your arm back to a direction you believed York was, distressed glare still on your friend, "What the hell was this Leif person talking about?! Iceland?! Helga and Ylva?! They're your family, aren't they?! You have family, Thorfinn, family that is alive and well and in Iceland and they want you back! They love you, Thorfinn!" Retreating your arm, you brought your hands back to your head, pulling on your hair, pulling on the last strand of sanity this man left you. Though you desperately were scowling, you wanted to scowl, your eyes were only wide. Wide and big, distress shining in them as tears welled up in the corners. A choked sob escaped you.

"Anyone would jump up in joy hearing that their family is still alive but you didn't give a damn about what that man had to say. He said he'd wait for you. Maybe he's still there."

The screeching softened the more you talked, misty-eyed as you gazed at anything but him. Lamenting to yourself at this predicament he found himself in. Thorfinn's own eyes widened as best as they could as he managed to sit up. A breathy gasp escaped him. He's never seen you like this.

"Do you have," Sobbing, you wiped your nose, "Any idea how lucky you are to have people in this world...that want you?"

The breathy gasp morphed into sharp inhales, greedily gulping in the painful air as Thorfinn kept staring and staring at you, wide-eyed and afraid. He barely could breath.

"You could be there...but you're not. So answer me when I ask you what the hell you are doing here."

Something...something he reckoned to be akin to ringing wormed its way in his ears alongside your sobs. He saw you hiding your eyes as tears fell down your face - but he wasn't sure, the heavy snow and his lidded eyes made it difficult to truly see you. Thorfinn was not certain if he stooped this low that he had begun seeing things.

Tilting his head down to the snow - his neck couldn't find any strength anymore - he startled at the face his father's dagger reflected. Swollen and broken...dark and bruised, blood and snot oozing out of his bent nose with one of his eye hardly visible and of course, barely able to see with it anyway. Maybe it wasn't the trick of the weather but just his swollen face.

He had seen this face time and time again.

It whined and fussed whenever he looked at it, leaving him no choice but to see its pain and its borderline stupidity. The blood coated on the blade as it cut the guards.

The broken arm that almost earned worse by Thorkell's duel.

The stomach that churned whenever he trotted away like a corpse out of sheer hunger. Looking for anything he could gnaw between his teeth.

The hand that held the torch to the woman's demise. The hair she groomed was soaked in blood later, he recalled.

All that gruesome work...all the murders and the guts on the floor, the stolen goods and impaled heads...all those errands.

It was all this ugly face that he sees.

He sucked in air only to let them out in a wail. He wailed and wailed, louder and louder, his voice cracking as his tongue was tied and not able to form any words. He stared at you as you kept on sobbing.

Thorfinn's scream pierced through the heavy snow and the deafening silence. The cold, the snow, the dark, thunderous sky was nothing compared to this might, to this pathetic pain. It was louder than anything else you'd ever heard, both from the people you've killed and their pleas for mercy, and from the amount of grief he so sparingly shared with you, here and there.

Wiping your tears, you grimaced. Even through this wail that teared your heart apart, you could not help but think back on Askeladd. Oh, how wretched he'd feel this sight would be.

It hurt even more that you'd even agree.

It's Just Like A Lighthouse In Your Hands, Like A Little Flag Flapping In The Sands...

Misty-eyed, you looked down on the mutt wreathing in the snow. In his beaten state he could no longer look down at his dagger, could not form any words of remorse, imploration or grief. It was animalistic braying, as Askeladd described, howling at a moon that won't ever rise. You observed for some more, drying your face completely before falling onto your knees before Thorfinn.

His brown eyes struggled to follow your movements but that did not bother you. Watching him twitch and turn, you scooted closer and opened your arms. Arms that felt to heavy to share any burden.

Your limbs were slow, so woefully slow and heavy as they wrapped around his hunched body. Even as you gently and gingerly pressed him against you, Thorfinn continued to cry out, seeming to not have even noticed your gesture. He seemed to only gulp back for air when the side of his head was pressed against your chest.

This cringing feeling only grew worse at the rapid speed of his heart pounding against you. It was akin a bird's panicked flappings as it tried to misguidedly escape the cage it's been put in. However, you still tried to focus on the lightening aspects. How his gasps ceased and he himself tried to take deep breaths. Your hand found the crown of his head, stroking his grimy hair.

Thorfinn jumped. These calm breaths of yours tickled his head, leaving him shuddering. Gazing into the empty, barren snowscape he pondered if - maybe if, as long as he's not mistaken - you had ever done something so comforting to him before. He thought of it to be comforting at least. The familiarity of it all left him stumped as well as equally frightened. He did not know what to make of it.

Were you always like this? You have never...embraced him like this before. Was it because of him? Did he put a distance between you? Were you hesitant, perhaps reluctant to offer him soothing solace such as this? Thorfinn did not know and he did not remember.

Letting out a confused groan, he ever so tediously turned his head and gazed up to you. Chin resting on your chest as he looked up at you like an intriguied animal.

You cringed slightly at the face before you. No longer stroking his hair, you grabbed a fistful of snow and gently rubbed it against his dark blue cheek. Thorfinn did not resist but only let out a soft croak of pain. Still, his eyes never left you. "I'm sorry. I made the bruise worse." You spoke under your breath. The snow dissolved and fell apart, leaving only your reddened palm to cup and carress his face. You hoped it would soothe the injury.

Wordlessly, you continued to graze the bruises on his face with your cold hand in an attempt to lighten the pain. The blonde, as beaten and silent as he was, fluttered his eyes close whenever your fingers touched the swollen lumps nearby. He'd croak and sigh at the lightest of touches, leaning on you on his knees and face tilted up to look at you. Wiping the blood under his nose caused him to sneeze and you ripped a handful of your cloak off, offering for him to sneeze into it.

"One more time. The blood might dry and clump up your nose." He did so as told, clumps of snot and blood pulled out of his nostrills. He sniffed, inhaling the air. You threw the blood-soaked cloth away. Wiping your hand, your brought it back up to press his head against you, hesitant, but deciding to squeeze him ever so gently. Your face grimaced but you did not want to let him know.

It was almost on command. How he let his head turn around again, his ear leaning against your chest to listen to your heartbeat. His own pounded against his chest, calmly yet alone. Lonely and longingly. Aside from it, he was empty. So, so empty he would have loved nothing more than to just lean against you and sleep. Sleep forever.

"...C'mon, Thorfinn. Let's get ourselves somewhere warm." Obeying your command once again, he looked back up at you with big eyes, before lifitng himself up. You tucked a few loose strands of unruly hair behind his ears before slinging the good arm around your shoulder, with your face close to one another, you marched back to York.

A Floating Moon...You Still Croon?

He still leaned against you, that fool.

It nearly made you smile how he almost snuggled. Yet it was just as pathetic. Pathetic and ironic like the sun that decided to bless you the moment you found York again. The snow below you all but melted away by its rays and left nothing but filthy, grimy roads. You prefered it over the slippery ice.

The town was rather crowded. Carts filled with many goods pulled by healthy, decorated horses and men with respectable blades passed by. The meeting is soon to begin, you believed.

Still, it only made you more hesitant to ask for any help. Anyone you turn to could be some high and mighty ruler of a region or worse, their vessels and guards. The many swinging scabbards at their hips did not ease your anxiety.

The side of the road it was. Better behind some stables in the shadows and out of the sight of the many servants. Thorfinn looked worse for wear and a youngling like you would definitely not be welcomed with open arms. Oh, how awfully right you were.

With another person's weight on your side, you accidentaly bumped into another. Praying they'd simply scoff or ignore you, you immediately bowed your head and apologized once they argued with you.

"Hey, hey, hey! What do you think you're doing? Bumping into me, eh? Causing an accident only to rob me from my goods, eh? I know that trick." One approached while you stepped back with Thorfinn in tow, head hanging low. You shake your head, trying to explain that it was indeed a mere accident-

"Don't pull that on me. Look at you, beaten and cold. You two must be poor beggars. C'mere, we know what to do with lot like you." As soon as you were cornered and one pulled his arm back for a punch, Thorfinn snapped his arm forward and shoved the man out of the way. He shrieked, alerting the others. "Hey, now-!" The second one grabbed your shoulder, however, he was swiftly kicked off, legs sweeped under his and falling into the manure below. Thorfinn let out something of an scoff despite his unreadable gaze.

Just as your friend was ready to bash the third man out of the trio, you made a run for it. There was no time to scold Thorfinn - you couldn't afford to earn the anger of some ruler's servant!

A mere barn was found and you snuck Thorfinn to the back behind a few bundles of hay. That certainly was close...but you didn't have the strength to berate him any more.

Instead, you tended to him some more, the best that you could as beggars. The man wasn't nearly wrong. Even now Thorfinn only let out a few hums at each action and touch, nodding meekly at each of your words. It was pitiful and equally heartbreaking.

Only to you though, it seemed.

You gently placed your hand to his forehead and sighed in relieve when not detecting a fever. It didn't appear that he had any symptoms either.

The blonde just leaned into your touch, tired.

You tucked a few unruly locks away. "I have to fetch something...I'll be right back." You snapped up only to be tugged down abruptly. Widened eyes looked down to find Thorfinn grabbing your wrist, stopping you and pulling you down. His swollen lips parted for air and eyes were still unreadable. Lying a hand on his, you tried to offer a smile, "I'll be right back, it won't take long. Just stay here and don't move from your spot."

The grip on your wrist was tight enough that you had to shake it off and leave before he could jump after you.

You missed the way his hand reached for your vanishing figure.

The port was even busier, making your heart race.

It was a mystery to you how you managed to find the short, unassuming man within the crowd of bellowing merchants and sailing boats but there he was, staring at you with wide, big eyes. He blinked a few times; Not quite certain if he should even be speaking to you - with that glare you were offering him.

"I don't know any details," You began, "But I have a request. I'll do what it takes for you to accept it." The man let out a nervous, brief chortle before taking a step forward. His hand scratched the back of his neck. The best he could was bear a crooked grin. "Now, hold on, little one. You, ah," He hesitated, blinked and took a breath, "I saw you with Thorfinn the other day. You are a friend of his, no?"

The man did not miss the way you avoided his gaze.

"And you are a relative of his, right? Uncle...Leif, it was?"

The merchant laughed and his nervous tone quickly shifted to a carefree one. It startled you yet that did not stop him from explaining his situation.

That was all nice and dandy...but you did not have time to listen to old tales.

"Listen, I know where he is. I'll take you to him but for that...you have to take him back to Iceland."

Leif could not deny that your request intriguided him. After all, just like Thorfinn you seemed to be a viking despite being his friend. He never had a viking ask him for a favour.

"I'll do whatever it takes to get him there. I'll personally drag him to your boat if I must, beat him black and blue and throw him into it." Again, Leif waved his hands and hoped his awkward laughter would ease the tension...and make you realize how dramatic your solutions were. It was not neccessary, he'd say, all that was needed was a good talk and listening to each other. To follow one's heart...and he's sure Thorfinn would choose the right answer.

That was enough for you to consider it a deal. Hurrying the older man, you were suddenly stopped as he tapped your shoulder. "I wanted to thank you, young one."

Raising a brow, it only made Leif grin.

"Thank you for being a friend to Thorfinn. He used to be such a sweet and hopeful kid...but now, he'd been through hell. I don't know all of the details but I am certain his life would have been more miserable if it weren't for you. Thank you for always staying by his side."

He continued to speak. You listened attentively, your eyes widened and fearing to tear up yet again at these kind words of this kind man.

Thorfinn could count himself lucky to have people who love him.

Listen To Me, Cleave Your Way Again, Again...

The floor was cold but thank the gods not as cold as the snow outside.

Lonely droplets of water fell down one after another and another and another; Like a melody to the puddle below. Thorfinn would have liked to thank to be alone right now. Alone and with not another soul as his company, as the trio of men chased after him and handed him over to the town's guards. With no resistance, he let himself be thrown into the dungeon.

But he could not find any gratitude in his empty heart to any gods right now.

You weren't back. You said you would be but when he looked up to the shadows hovering over him, he was met with three disgusting grins and not your smile. Bitter, bewitching, bland - it did not matter, he just needed to see your smile again.

You...held him. As if he deserved it.

You deserve to be looked for right now but he could not find any strength nor vigor to get up and escape, as easily as he was capable of it. All his head was filled of where questions on your whereabouts as his heart yearned for your presence.

A guard called out to him, speaking of an visitor. His first thought was you and how you returned to him. As best as he could, he crooked his neck and uttered your name.

Yet you weren't back still. There, sitting on the ground with the brightest smile he could muster was the man who used to tell him stories as a child. He prepared himself before he spoke. "Thorfinn. I've been told of an rowdy beggar being locked up. My gut feeling told me that might have been you, my boy."

Thorfinn sighed in disappointment and laid back down.

Leif licked his lips, taking a deep breath. "...You told me how you suffered for the past eleven years since we lost you, Thorfinn. You spoke of how I wouldn't understand, and I might not, and how...you couldn't find any peace within you as long as that man was still alive."

"...That...has nothing to do with you."

Nevertheless, the man persisted, believing it to be of concern to him. The fighting, the wars, the pain - and of how he swore it to himself to bring an end to it all by bringing him home.

A home filled with warmth and people. Of stories, some true and some silly, of food and water. Of no fear for your life and your future. A place where there was love.

"I swore an oath, you know? To myself and to Thors...that I would bring you back to Iceland. Bringing you back home where you belong, Thorfinn. That is the honor I want to uphold and the least I owe to Thors."

At the utter of his father's name, Thorfinn found the fortitude to sit up. Leif's grin was even more radiant than he remembered as a child. "So, Thorfinn...let us go back home. To Iceland!"

"Home...?"

Home...how tempting that word was. How it rolled off his tongue like stenching poison.

Home...after all this time? Why? Why would he, why should he?

Could he even?

"My boy, you said it yourself!" Leif scooted closer, his grin rivaling the sun, his eyes shining like a jewel. "So we can go to Vinland!"

Thorfinn could barely catch his breath, his empty chest that barely could hold his caving heart now rising. Rising, as he remembered the tale of old times.

A land far in the west, beyond the ocean...a land so warm and fruitful and so far away that no slave drives nor wars could reach it...

"Thors wished to go there, too...and I am sure - no, certain! Certain that if he was still alve, he would have loved nothing more than to travel to Vinland!"

Thorfinn hung his head. Was he...even allowed to hear such things, let alone do them? Take action?

"Home...and Vinland..."

Not being able to hold off his quivering smile, Leif dusted himself off as he got up on his feet. He walked slightly to the end of the bars. "And if you allowed it too, Thorfinn...I invited another companion to join us."

Now standing near the end, Leif opened his palm. Squinting his eyes, Thorfinn made out an hesitant, shaking hand peeking out from behind the wall and gingerly taking Leif's own outstretching one. He gladly wrapped his fingers around it, while the other shyly wrapped theirs around him, after a good while.

Following him, behind the wall your figure appeared - and the young blonde wasted no time to jump to his knees. You turned to him, looking down with a bittersweet smile. Thank the gods, he could see your smile that he so wished for.

Voice shaking with disbelief he called out your name.

"You gave me an heart attack."

My, did you tell him of how he did give you an heart attack when you returned to the spot with Leif and found him to be gone. Of how you told the man that he must be arrested and locked up, like the idiot that he was, and that he'd best be bribed free. Leif took the initiative and kindly asked you to wait.

Grey eyes glanced between the two of you and Leif let out a sigh of relieve, his hands on his hips. Even in this odd, ridicilous and hopeful situation that you wanted nothing more than to put your faith into, you approached the bars and looked down at your friend with the sweetest smile you could muster.

"After all this...could you take me to Vinland?"

Listen To Me, Sail Away Again, Again...A Misty Moon

I'm Missing You...

For the first time since today, you could feel the breeze.

No longer was it biting or howling but simply soothing.

This road, dirty and muddy and the chants of the people going their merry way felt like a dream.

Stepping inside Leif's humble, little boat felt like a dream.

The mention of other possibly kind merchants joining as Thorfinn held your hand - it was wonderful. Once he was out, he embraced you tight, not saying a word. He worsened his broken arm with the never-ending squeeze he gave you and definitely smeared snot and blood on your neck when he buried his head in there, but you did not dare to complain. Your arms wrapped around his body, silently grateful to have him back.

In this mess that you were and the mess that you are, you felt like the luckiest person alive. You, bewtiched by the bliss, did not complain as Thorfinn let go of your hand.

He was as quiet as a mouse, anyway. You let him ponder, you let him pout to himself. But what you could not let happen was him vanishing once again.

As he did on that snowy hill to fight Thorkell.

"Thorfinn!" Yours and Leif's scream aligning with a bird's shriek. The man just got this little boy back and now you were running off as well, searching for him. He thought he finally found Vinland. Finally could honor his own oath and quench this sadness in his heart.

It was all for nothing.

The searching, the bribing, the empty promises on his behalf...your fighting, your murders, tending his wounds and holding him in your heart. All for nothing.

Yells echoed within the meeting hall. You caught a glimpse of brown and yellow make a sharp turn for it. "Thorfinn!" Yet as men tried to flee the hall, you only struggled to get inside, hearing Thorfinn's screams for Askeladd.

He seemed to have gotten in as his figure vanished from your sight and you hardly could hear him. The yelling and screaming ceased - what had happened in there?

"Thorfinn! Thorfinn, come back! Please!"

Not a reply, not a bellow of utter agony either. It was only you, screeching out his name, screeching out to be let go as the many servants and guards dragged you out. Pulling on your cloak, pulling on your hair, your arms, your face.

"Thorfinn!"

You could not see beyond the crowd. It was eerie to not hear anything from him. Now you wished he hadn't been so quiet.

"...What...? You, are dying? You...?"

The men reckoned you to be a beggar, wondering what you are doing here. Breaking into the king's meeting.

"...Don't be so foolish...and stop this nonsense. I give you my life...but...what will you do with your life...after you've taken mine...?"

Your screaming only convinced them of your madness. A mere, hysterical beggar breaking into the king's murder.

"Thorfinn!"

"...Will you take your friend with you...? Or will you do as I did to Björn...you should go, Thorfinn. Go far, far away from here. Somewhere that isn't here..."

You shall be taken away. Hysterical but maybe useful.

"Damn it, come back! Go back to Iceland, Thorfinn! GO BACK TO ICELAND!"

Iceland is not a fruitful or promising land...you shall be useful somewhere else. Somewhere that isn't here.

"...Go, Son of Thors...become a true warrior..."

Do Good, To Be Good...Do Good, To Be Good...You're Not Alone...

For the first time today, you felt the agony that dwelled within your heart, boiling there, wating for this moment.

The faces of the people, the mud of the road pressed into your face, the cuffs on your hands. It was a true nightmare.

Ripped away from the second Thorfinn let go of your hand and did not return to you. You still missed his silhouette. It was gone the moment you were hauled out of the place and thrown into the sea.

Thorfinn did not even answer your cires.

No one would now to a slave.