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megalony · 7 months

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No Interruptions

This is another Eddie Diaz request from Anon, I loved writing this so much. My third post of the day, I'm on a writing high right now. Enjoy, thank you all for the constant requests and support.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefanthefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez-blog @jonesyaddiction @milanosaurus @httpfandxms @saint-hardy @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls @mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon @im-an-adult-ish @crazylittlethingg @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod @ceres27 @avyannadawn @noonenuts @sleepylunarwolf @coverupps @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

Masterlist

Summary: Eddie has some time before his shift and he intends on spending it with his wife early in the morning. His son, however, has other ideas and Eddie starts to get desperate for his wife.

Enjoy.

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A groan rumbled up Eddie's chest and past his lips when he checked the time on his phone. He turned off the alarm in advance and threw his phone back under the pillow where he left it during the night.

He wasn't looking forward to this. Two days on the trot; four shifts in a row where he could get a few hours of sleep in the bunker in between. God knows how many callouts he was going to see over the next two days.

But it was going to be two days away from Christopher. Two full days away from his wife, and when she looked like this, that felt like a crime.

He wasn't ready for a long shift away, he hadn't done over a fourteen hour shift in over two months and this past month it was starting to feel like he was finally living at home, not the station. Eddie didn't want that balance to shift back to where he worked at the station and visited his house.

He moved his hand that was stuck under the pillow and rubbed his eyes to try and wake himself up and get his mind going. But a smile curved at his lips when he felt (Y/n)'s fingers curl around his arm that had been laid over her chest in his sleep. She pulled his arm tighter around her chest and started to glide her fingers up and down his skin until he was shivering with goosebumps beneath her touch. And when she kissed his arm and peppered a trail up his bicep, he was leaning forward, groaning into her hair.

It was always hit and miss how they would wake up in a morning. Sometimes Eddie would wake up on the edge of the bed with Christopher wedged between them. Other times he had (Y/n) laid directly on top of him and he realised why he dreamed he was drowning because it was hard to breathe but he wouldn't have it any other way.

He liked these mornings the best, where he woke up with her wrapped up in his arms and a while before he had to get up and ready for shift. And when there was no little monster in the bed with them, mornings like this got even better.

"Do you have to go soon?" (Y/n) muttered the words quietly against his arm, her voice laced with sleep but her fingers were still running up and down his arm. And Eddie could feel her shuffling back until her back was moulded against his bare chest as if the minimal space between them was an ocean she wanted to disappear.

"Hm, I've got some time."

(Y/n)'s eyes shot open and a gasp tumbled past her lips when the arm she had been holding onto shot down to her waist and he rolled her over onto her back. She could feel herself laughing quietly when Eddie climbed over her and moved so he was kneeling between her legs. Both his hands planted down on the pillow beside her head and his teeth flashed in a sharp grin that made his eyes crease at the corners.

She brought her hands up to cup his face, smoothing her thumbs over his cheekbones as he leaned down to press a kiss to her lips.

"Afraid this has to go, though." Eddie leaned back and rested his weight on his heels before his hands slowly trailed down her sides until he could grab the hem of her shirt. It clung to her frame tight enough that there was nothing left to the imagination and when (Y/n) bit her lip but obliged and leaned up to let him peel it off, it was like he was taking off a layer of her skin.

He threw the small, flimsy material down on the floor and gave the cover a nudge until it fell off his back and crumpled to the bottom of the bed. He was starting to burn up already, they didn't need any extra layers on covering them.

While he took a moment to admire the view in front of him, (Y/n) took her chance to scrape her nails agonisingly slow over his skin, starting from his abdomen and she worked her way up until her hands were curved around his neck. Her fingers tickled the small hairs at the back of his neck and she sat up to meet him in the middle, moulding her chest against his before she pulled his lips down to hers.

(Y/n) could feel the fever behind his kiss and the way his fingertips dug bruisingly into her hips when she pushed her chest up against him just to irritate him and goad him further.

Her lips curved into a smile against his and when she pulled back (Y/n) sucked his lower lip between her teeth and have a small tug until she could feel the growl deep in his chest, rumbling through into her own.

Her fingertips slid away from the back of his neck and trailed their way back down the middle of his chest, covering every square inch that she would. Her plump lips left Eddie's and moved towards his razor sharp jaw and when she could feel him starting to quiver beneath her, she started to kiss down his neck.

The moment her teeth grazed against his neck about to leave a mark, Eddie grabbed her wrists that were near his abdomen and leaned his weight onto her. He pushed her down into the bed again and fell forward with her until his chest was moulded down against hers and her hands were pinned down to the mattress. He tried to keep some of his weight on his legs and arms so he wasn't fully crushing her beneath him but he could still feel every inch of her pressing into him. Even the curve of her small bump moulded perfectly against his lower abdomen.

"My turn." There was something demanding and authorative in his voice that was not to be messed with and all (Y/n) could do was turn to mush beneath his touch.

She barely had chance to gasp before Eddie smothered her mouth with his and let his tongue explore past her lips.

Wet, panting kisses were peppered along her neck and down the middle of her throat so every time she gasped or swallowed, Eddie could feel each movement. He let go of her hands and moved his fingertips across her sides and down the dips and curves to that special area just above her hips where (Y/n) was ticklish. He loved the way her stomach would pull in and she would jump against his touch when all he had to do was lightly trace the pad of his finger along her skin and it had her gasping and laughing beneath him.

"We won't be needing these any more." He hooked his fingers into the top of her underwear and shuffled back on his knees to remove them when (Y/n) lifted her legs.

She watched him throw the dark red lace onto the floor along with her top and a deep laugh rumbled past his lips when she pressed her feet against his hips and managed to push his boxers down rather easily from where she was laid on her back. If he wasn't going to let her sit up and do it manually, she had to get creative.

"I can't decide whether that's eager or impressive,"

"Make up your mind while you take them off."

(Y/n) quipped back, leaning up on her elbows a little so she could watch him lean up and roll them past his knees so he could kick them on the floor. When they were off, (Y/n) sat up and looped her arms back round his neck, desperate to be as close as possible.

"I'm gonna go with eager, but then again so am I." Eddie's hands groped at her hips, admiring the view in front of him now that there were no layers between them.

"Don't think you can last two days, Eddie?" She knew exactly what kind of reaction she got from using his name and as expected, something burned darker and deeper in his eyes.

She felt his hand move and his arm wrapped like an iron bar around her back just above her bum so he could reel her in and pull her closer. He held her so close and tight that he left her up and she had to move her weight onto her feet and the back of her legs to stay tall and close to him like this. Her hands gripped his shoulders to steady herself but she gasped when his other hand moved to grip the underside of her thigh before he pushed her back.

(Y/n) felt her back hit the headboard and her knees coiled up as Eddie shifted forwards onto her chest and kneeled between her spread legs like he always had and always would belong there.

"Don't think I can last two minutes, let alone two days," He gruffed back before their lips crashed together in a silent but deadly battle. He dug his nails tighter into her thigh and moved her leg to hook it around his hip so he could brace his hand on the wall behind the bed. The last thing Eddie wanted was to put all of his weight onto (Y/n) or give her bruises down her spine from the wooden headboard.

"Fuck, Eddie-"

"Mummy!"

"Shit! Shit, no Chris don't do this to me." Eddie buried his face in the crook of (Y/n)'s neck and sank his teeth down on the soft flesh. Praying Chris would settle himself back down and carry on sleeping just for a bit longer. This was the worst timing Chris had ever had, he couldn't shout out yet.

Not now. Now when Eddie needed (Y/n) too; he needed her badly.

"Mummy, help! Mummy!" Oh God, he was crying. He wasn't going to settle himself back to sleep or occupy himself with his books or games or tv in his room. Not when he was crying, he must have had a nightmare and if that happened he wouldn't settle or go back to sleep. He needed one of his parents in there to console him and make him feel better and calm him down.

"Fuck!" Eddie's hand clenched into a fist against the wall and he moved his head to press his lips against the side of (Y/n)'s head. "Why's he doing this to me? Blocked by my own kid."

"Mummy!"

"Sorry baby. I'm coming sweetheart." (Y/n) tilted her head up to kiss the side of Eddie's jaw when he shuffled back an inch to let her move even though he really didn't want to.

"Don't think I will be today,"

"Eddie!" She batted her hand against his shoulder when she pushed off the bed and scanned the floor quickly for something to wear. She couldn't very well walk into his room wearing nothing at all, that would only unsettle him even more.

The first thing (Y/n) grabbed happened to be one of Eddie's work shirts. A back t-shirt with the fire station logo and number in a circle on the left side of her chest. It barely covered her bum so she had to grab Eddie's boxers and slip them on as well but when she did she heard her husband groan and when she turned around, he was kneeling up in the middle of the bed staring at her.

Why did she have to look that good wearing his clothes? That shirt alone with nothing else on underneath was more than enough to drive Eddie crazy. He could see every ridge and curve of her body beneath it and she didn't even realise how she swayed her hips when she walked.

"That's teasing," He muttered defeatedly with his fingers dragging through his hair in a rigid motion.

(Y/n) could hear his harsh steps following her out of their room and she barely turned her head over her shoulder to see what he was doing before he reached out for her. His hand caught her chin and he tilted her head up so he could give her a searing kiss before he let her go.

"I need to get ready," Eddie spoke more to himself and he turned off into the bathroom when (Y/n) diverted down into Chris's room.

He was so close.

There was no way Eddie was going to last two days away when (Y/n) was stood there like that, burning her image into his eyes and leaving it on his brain. How could he go out on a call and focus when his wife was at home looking that good and he couldn't even touch her?

"Chris, I need to head off now. You be good for me and I'll be back Friday night, okay?" Eddie strapped his watch around his wrist before he crouched down beside the table Chris was sat at. He was still wearing his pyjamas and dressing gown, munching away on his cereal.

"Okay, love you."

"I love you too." With his hand pressed against the back of Chris's head, Eddie kissed his temple and leaned over to hug him before he got to his feet and looked over at (Y/n).

The sight of her stood there like that was enough to make Eddie growl and rethink going into work today.

She was still wearing his shirt and boxers which were glued rather shapely against her bum. And his shirt hung off her left shoulder as if giving him a sneak preview of what he was missing out on but it was the way his shirt was bunched up over her hip that made it hard to stay in control. He wanted to go over there and rip it over her head and drag the boxers down to her ankles.

A shiver rolled down (Y/n)'s spine when a familiar pair of strong arms coiled around her waist and she felt Eddie's chin perch on her shoulder. He pulled her back into his chest and lifted her high enough that she had to push up on her tiptoes to stay balanced against him.

The feeling of him breathing and sucking at her neck had her knees going weak but when she looked at the watch strapped on his wrist, she knew he was going to be late if he stayed. And Christopher was awake now, they couldn't exactly do anything without him hearing or noticing. He was an observant kid.

"You'll be late," She turned her head to look at him and he caught her lips in a kiss instead and she could feel his hands slip beneath her shirt. His palms pressed flat against the curve of her stomach before his fingertips traced lower and dipped into the waistband of his boxers that she was wearing.

Two days was going to feel like two years at this rate.

"Eddie, baby… you," Kiss. "Have to," Kiss. "Go."

Maybe she should walk him to the door to make sure he actually left. It wouldn't do him any favours to be late to work when he had a clean track record so far.

She turned around in his arms and have him a gentle nudge until he was walking backwards, his arms back around her waist with his elbows dug into her hips and his hands now cupping her bum beneath the underwear she wore. Her hands reached up to rub across his chest and she continued to nudge him backwards while he stole kiss after kiss from her lips like it was the last time he was going to see her and he was getting his money's worth.

"Don't wanna go,"

"Two days, baby. Then you're off all weekend and Chris is at his sleepover. No chance of interruptions, you'll be mine all weekend."

"Hm, but I want you now." The weekend felt so far away when Eddie had to leave her right now and stay at the station for the next two days. He had to get his head in gear and rush into uncertain situations with this image of (Y/n) at the forefront of his mind. He had to save people and clean the trucks and take a power nap in the back room of the station, all while (Y/n) danced across his mind and all he could have was her voice on the other end of the phone.

And even then, he knew Chris would steal the phone because he wouldn't go to sleep unless Eddie said goodnight to him over the phone when he was away at work.

"Go to work,"

Eddie moved one arm behind him to unlock the door and grab his keys from the lock. He stepped back over the threshold but when (Y/n) moved out of his arms, he held the doorframe and the door to prevent her from closing the door on him.

He waited until (Y/n) cupped his face in her hands and tugged him down to press a feverish kiss to his lips. She let him swipe his tongue across her lower lip, begging for entrance before she pulled back, mumbling a quiet 'I love you' against his lips before giving him a final nudge out the door.

Two days. Two whole fucking days.

How was he going to survive with that image burned into his mind and the desire bubbling away inside of him?

***

Leaning over the bed, (Y/n) pressed a lasting kiss against the top of Christopher's head and smoothed his curls down before she turned on the night light and moved back. He was that tired tonight that he didn't want to wait up for Eddie to come home from shift, he wanted to go to bed and sleep because he knew when his dad came home, he would come in and kiss him goodnight anyway.

She waited an extra second just to make sure he was asleep and settled before she turned on her heels and headed out of the room.

The door barely closed behind her before (Y/n) jumped back against it and gasped when a figure loomed over her in the dim light coming from the living room.

Eddie.

"Christ Eddie, what are you trying to do to me?" (Y/n) pressed a hand over her chest and grabbed his arm to steady herself. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest and jumping up into her throat while the baby started to move from fright.

"You have no idea how long the last two days have been."

With that, Eddie's arms were around her waist and he was pulling her away from Chris's bedroom so they didn't wake him. He wasn't having anymore interruptions this time around. He had gotten so close the other day only for the plans to be ruined and he had spent the last two days desperate to get back home to his wife and take her to bed.

That was exactly what he was planning to do.

(Y/n) grinned and coiled her arms around his neck when his hands moved to cup the back of her thighs and he lifted her up off her feet. He hoisted her up in his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist so she was sat low on his hips. Able to feel every ridge of part of him and see what her image had done to him these past two days.

"No interruptions this time," It was a statement more than a plea or a request and (Y/n) could only nod in agreement before he was smothering her with his lips.

He kissed every inch of skin he could see and reach. Her neck, down her throat then back up to her lips, her nose, her cheek. He nibbled and then bit down harder on her jaw until she was moaning against his lips and gripping his neck tighter. She barely felt him move until she heard the bedroom door open and realise he was carrying her towards their bed.

"I missed you, Eddie. Can you guess how much?"

Her bum hit the bed with a thud and she took the initiative to lay down on her back and dig her heels into the dip on his lower back to pull him down with her.

"God, you're mine now." He groaned in her ear while he unhooked her legs from his waist so he could pull her underwear down so hard and fast (Y/n) heard a rip in the fabric. Looks like she wouldn't be wearing those ones again anytime soon. And they were his favourite pair too.

"Always."

"Let's try again, shall we?"

#eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #imagine #911 imagine #911 fox #911 #pregnant! reader

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

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{19} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 7,540

Warnings: Mention of blood and wounds. Mental breakdowns. Mental illness: depression, anxiety, and negative and self-deprecating thoughts. Panic attacks. Heavy angst. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Surprise!! Early-ish update for you all. I really hope you all enjoy the angst this chapter. All that’s really left to say is this... Prepare the tissues. That is all. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Mini Masterlist

For the next sixteen hours, you remain unconscious. Sixteen hours which are pure torture to every single male in that household, and the longer you remain asleep, the more worry eats away at them from the inside.

Luckily, sometime around the mid-afternoon, you finally seem to regain consciousness.

Stirring slightly, your eyes twitch beneath your lids. Carefully, you stretch out, feeling a dull ache in your back, as well as something warm resting against it.

Keeping your eyes shut for the moment at the bright light you can see filtering in behind your eyelids, you scrunch your face. A slight groan escapes you.

“That better be Kuroo resting on my back, and not somebody’s head,” your voice is rough, strained as you manage to clear your throat in the next second.

Two chuckles sound, one on either side of you, as you feel that little warm lump on your back stand. He stretches soon after, crawling off of you only to be replaced by a gentle hand in the next moment. A hand which strokes lovingly, carefully, down your spine.

You’d recognize that touch anywhere.

“Yeosangie?” You lift your head, blinking a few times groggily to clear your vision.

Sure enough, once your gaze refocusses, you see him smiling softly down at you. His one hand comes up to cup the side of your face tenderly as you push yourself upwards slightly.

At the sound of a soft chuckle coming from your opposite side, you’re quick to turn your attention to the other male in the room.

“Is that you, Woo?” You blink, clearing your throat in the next moment.

“It’s me, Gorgeous,” he smiles faintly as you meet his gaze. Both males immediately move to help you sit, noticing how you continue to push yourself upwards. “Don’t strain yourself.”

“Here, My Dear,” in the blink of an eye, Yeosang is handing you the glass of red liquid that has been resting on your side table. “Drink the rest of this.”

Without question, you take the offering from his hand. Looking down into the glass, you blink a few times before taking a hesitant sip. At the way your shoulders seemingly relax, a hum escaping you, you down the rest of the glass in an instant.

Wooyoung chuckles, “were you expecting it to taste bad?”

Swallowing once more, you feel some energy immediately returning to your body, starting at the tips of your fingers and spreading outwards. Even your eyes seem to come more alive, shining brighter than they were mere moments before.

At least they know the tonic is working.

“I don’t know what I was expecting,” you shrug, smiling faintly as Yeosang takes the now empty glass from your hands and places it back onto the side table. “Certainly not the taste of cranberry juice and…” your brow furrows slightly in thought as you blink, licking your lips, “iron?”

“Damn, and here I thought I masked the the taste of my blood enough for you,” Wooyoung jokes, shaking his head teasingly.

“I just drank your diluted blood, and you didn’t tell me?” You quirk a brow, tilting your head forward slightly in his direction.

“My blood has been in your system for almost twenty-four hours now, Gorgeous,” Wooyoung responds, a hint of fear flashing in his eyes in the next moment. “You gave all of us quite a scare yesterday.”

You blink, looking down at your hands as your shoulders curl the slightest bit inwards.

“If you’re going to lecture me, too, save it,” your jaw twitches slightly. “I don’t want to hear it.”

“Don’t worry, Dearest,” Yeosang assures you, placing a comforting hand onto your shoulder as his thumb gently strokes over your exposed skin. “We have no intentions of doing such a thing.”

“Good,” you seemingly breathe out a sigh of relief, shoulders relaxing beneath his touch.

“How are you feeling?” Wooyoung leans forward, placing his palm over the skin of your back where you’re positive one of the arrows had hit its mark the day before.

“Honestly?” You stretch out your back slightly, hearing a few satisfying pops come from your spine. “Like I passed two large kidney stones in a single day.” You blink. “Actually, I think that might have been more painful.”

They both chuckle at this.

“So, yeah,” you grin faintly. “Not as bad as I thought it would be. I didn’t get sick, did I?”

“No, you didn’t.” Wooyoung shakes his head.

“Then, yeah,” you nod to yourself. “Definitely not as bad as it could have been. I usually throw up when I’m suffering from intense pain.”

“That still doesn’t sound too good, Dearest,” Yeosang replies, eyes searching your face for any signs of lingering pain.

“Nah,” you wave him off. “I’m just being dramatic. I honestly don’t feel much pain anymore at all. Just a bit of stiffness, like I’ve written a few exams hunched over a desk. I think I just need to stretch out my back.”

“Would you like some help?” A third voice coming from behind you makes you startle in your spot.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You nearly fall forward, Wooyoung reaching out to steady you as you place a hand over your racing heart. Turning to look over your shoulder, you playfully glare at the male who spoke, noticing both Mingi and Yunho standing on either side of him. “San, don’t scare me like that!”

“Sorry, Baby,” he chuckles, eyes crinkling as he smiles. “I’m just glad to see you’re okay.”

“It’ll take a lot more than that to kill me,” you reply, moving off of the bed and standing back onto your own two feet.

“My Love-“

You physically jump at the feeling of a soft hand placed onto your lower back.

“Fucking hell,” you turn around to meet Hongjoong’s wide eyed gaze with one of your own, your heart thundering beneath your hand as you place it once more over your chest. “You need to wear bells, or something to alert me of your presence when you do that. My word.”

“Is this your way of saying you want us to wear collars, Darling?” Jongho quirks a brow, and you notice him suddenly leaning against one of the pillars in your room with his arms crossed, a smug grin tugging at his lips.

“I’m just saying,” you shoot him a pointed look, cracking your neck in the next second. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Our apologies, My Love,” Hongjoong smiles, noticing how you begin to stretch your back out immediately after. “We’re just glad to see that you’re okay, and much more nimble than any of us were expecting when you first woke up.”

“Eh, back pain is nothing I haven’t dealt with before,” you say, hearing a satisfying pop come from between your shoulder blades, and causing a pleasant shiver to run up your spine. “Though, I haven’t been able to crack it this well in ages.”

You twist slightly to the side, turning your body so you can stretch out your spine. A moment later, you’re blinking.

“How long was I out?”

“A full day.” Mingi breathes, and you can see the tension in all of their shoulders as he says this.

Your brow droops slightly, fingers clasped in front of your body as your gaze falls to the floor.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” your voice comes out small, and they watch as you begin to curl in on yourself.

“No, Petal,” immediately, Yunho steps forward and pulls you into his arms, tucking your head into the side of his neck as he holds you close. “Taking care of you was not a burden to us at all. We’re just glad you’re okay.”

Your hands tighten the slightest bit around his back, and he knows he’s caught your thoughts before you let them get out of control. At least, for now.

Softly, you nod, pulling away from Yunho in the next second. Then, a sly grin begins to pull at your lips, and they all know it can only mean trouble.

“Well, at least I can say I survived more arrows than Boromir did,” you comment, a self-satisfied look crossing your features as a few of them chuckle in response.

“And they were poisoned,” Wooyoung adds, matter-of-factly.

You turn to him, noticing how he still rests on your bed with Yeosang beside him. He seems quite comfortable, too, laying on his side with his head propped up by his one hand while he pets Kuroo with the other, whom is more than content to lay there with him for the moment.

“Exactly,” you raise a finger in acknowledgement. “Let’s just hope I don’t get stabbed by a Morgul blade next.”

“Well, with the poison, you kind of already were,” Mingi tilts his head slightly as he shrugs.

“Damn,” you blink, nodding to yourself. “Two for one deal.”

“Though, let’s agree not to go searching for these kind of opportunities again,” Hongjoong steps beside you, placing a gentle hand onto your lower back. “Please, take batter care of yourself, My Love.”

This time, you don’t startle at his touch.

“The cheeky side of me wants to say, ‘no promises’, but I definitely don’t want to go through that again,” you say, bringing a hand up to subconsciously rub at your left shoulder.

In the next moment, you hear thundering footsteps racing down the hallway. A frown pulls at your features as you all turn towards your door, noticing that it remains closed for the time being. Though, not for long.

You were wondering when he’d decide to show up.

Instantly, the wood is being thrown open with enough force to slam into the wall. Honestly, you’re surprised the door doesn’t crack, or fall off of its hinges at the brutality it endures. You’ll be even more surprised if the wall isn’t damaged behind it.

There, standing in the now open doorway with his chest heaving, stands Seonghwa. A look of pure terror rests on his features as his eyes scan the room, and only once they settle on you does a tremendous sense of relief food his veins. Still, he cannot hide the sorrow from shining within his eyes.

For a moment, all is still as he locks gazes with you from across the room.

“Get out.” Your voice is low, tone cold as any hint of that previously playful demeanour you just had drops from your expression.

A silence settles over the room as his face falls.

“My Divine, please-“ he takes a step forward, eyes pleading as he watches you turn away from him.

“I don’t want to hear it,” your words have him freezing right in his tracks.

You stare straight ahead, conscious of eight gazes locked onto your figure as the others observe the scene playing out before them for the time being.

The broken call of your name you hear him let out behind you sets your whole body trembling as tears begin to line the corners of your eyes. Your thoughts begin to take the darkest turn they ever have in months.

“I warned you,” you swallow the sudden dryness in your throat, “I warned you what would happen if you ever chose to speak to me like that again.”

You can hear his breath hitch from behind you.

“All you are is just pretty words, Seonghwa,” you furiously wipe at the first tears that begin to fall down your cheeks as you squeeze your eyes shut. “I can handle the demons well enough in my own mind, but not when they become real.”

A stillness so deadly settles over the room, that you’re sure even you have stopped breathing.

“So, please,” you sniff, voice coming out no more than a broken whisper, “just leave me alone.”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you cradle your elbows in your hands. You have yet to open your eyes, more tears falling freely down your face as sobs wrack your entire body. You cannot help the way you curl in on yourself, shoulders hunching as your hands cling onto yourself for dear life.

Whether Seonghwa has left the room or not, you do not know. Hell, whether any of them have stayed to watch you break down is unbeknownst to you. They’ve probably all left, not wanting to deal with you anymore for the moment. At least, that’s what your mind keeps telling yourself.

You don’t blame them. If you were them, you wouldn’t want to deal with you, either.

A scream nearly tears from your throat as you feel a comforting embrace surround you, for you believe it to be the eldest disobeying your wishes like he’s so prone to do. Only, the soft cooing a a low voice in your ear has you immediately melting into his touch.

“Shh, Petal,” Yunho caresses the back of your head tenderly in his one hand as you turn into his warm embrace. “It’s just me.”

Another violent sob tears from your throat, and you find yourself clinging onto Yunho for dear life. Your fingers press harshly into the skin of his back, pulling him closer as if you’re afraid he may leave you, that he may disappear from your grasp at any moment.

“It’s okay, Starlight,” you soon feel Mingi place a comforting hand onto your back. His touch is warm, and despite clinging to Yunho for the moment, you find yourself melting into it more than you realize. “We’re right here. You are not alone.”

Your chest tightens, heart feeling as if it’s being suffocated as more sobs escape you. You can barely find the strength to open your eyes, let alone look at them.

Your void begins to slip.

“I’m sorry,” your voice is raw, rough from the heavy emotions consuming your soul at this very moment. “I’m sorry.”

The events of the past day are finally all catching up to you, combined with everything that has happened over the past few months. You feel as if the weight of the world has settled upon your shoulders, and you do not know what to do.

It’s your fault. It’s all your fault. Miyeon. Getting struck by arrows. Worrying them. Everything.

Yesterday, you almost died. You could have died, if it weren’t for them. Hell, all you’ve done since you’ve gotten here is burden them with your presence. They must be getting so sick and tired of putting up with you already. That’s probably why Seonghwa snapped yesterday. He probably finally had enough.

You probably deserved it, anyways.

With your emotions so high, you find it increasingly difficult to maintain a hold on your void. In fact, keeping it intact slips your very mind for the moment as some of your darkest thoughts begin to consume you from the inside out.

Your whole body trembles, painful sobs tearing from your throat as you can do nothing but succumb to these emotions for the time being. You have not experienced that hissing, venomous voice for a while, and once you hear the first whispers of her return, you succumb to her torment once again.

All seven of them are forced to watch as the love of their lives breaks down like this in front of them, hearts squeezing painfully in their chests as they are overcome by your thoughts projecting themselves shamelessly into their own minds.

They’ve never seen your mindscape this dark before. Not even when you shared that memory of the second worst night of your life. However, they do recognize that hissing voice of your own insecurities manifesting itself as she spews toxic hate into your own mind.

Now, each male is forced to witness how you belittle yourself, how you constantly berate your own self-worth and mind, believing your value to be less than nothing. That dark voice whispers the harshest lies to you, telling you that you are nothing more than a tiresome burden to everyone that you meet. That you always have been, and you always will be.

Guilt so fierce consumes you, more hushed apologies escaping your lips as you choke on your sobs. You never wanted them to see you like this. You never wanted those voices to come back, yet they’ve seemed to return, stronger than ever as they hiss some of your worst fears at you from within your mind.

You can do nothing but stand there, clinging to Yunho for dear life as both Jongho and Hongjoong surround you on either side as well. Mingi rubs a gentle thumb against your back, keeping you grounded for the moment, but even that touch you’re starting to become numb to.

Your knees become weak, and your palms begin to sweat. The room begins to spin, and you feel as if you may collapse at any moment. You can barely catch your breath through the sobs, their voices and words of constant reassurance blending into background noise as your thoughts consume you.

Their hearts break for you, doing whatever they can for the moment to simply let you know that they’re here for you. That these thoughts have no basis, and are not true in the slightest. They will always be here for you, in whatever ways they can.

However, none are truly as affected as one male is right now.

As soon as he saw you curl in on yourself like that, so broken and vulnerable, looking so alone, he took another step towards you. Seonghwa couldn’t help but reach out for you, but the feeling of all seven of his brother’s eyes on him had him halting in his tracks.

Pleadingly, he had glanced around the room, seeing no sympathy directed towards him from any of his brothers.

Seonghwa had straightened at that, his own tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as he spared you one final pain filled look before transporting himself away for the time being.

Now, as he secludes himself inside the sanctity of his tailor shop, Seonghwa falls to his knees. Fabric rests in torn heaps around him, bows and ribbon scattered across the floor in his rage to destroy whatever he could get his hands onto for the time being.

If his brother’s hearts are breaking right now, then his absolutely shatters as some of your darkest thoughts echo shamelessly throughout his own mind, unfiltered and horrid. The worst part is, this is all his fault. He knows it is. He made you feel like this. He brought those demons to light once more, and all because he couldn’t control his anger. His fear.

Seonghwa cannot prevent the way his own tears trail a blazing path down his cheeks, collapsing to the ground in a pathetic heap as he feels his chest finally caving in once and for all. This whole time, he’s been so scared of losing you, that he never thought that he’d be the one to actually push you away. And he has no one but himself to blame.

He can just hear that venomous voice hissing insults at you, a warped version of your own twisting your fears into weapons to be hurled at you from every angle.

Useless. Good for nothing. Stupid idiot.

He flinches as he recalls his own words to you yesterday, spat in anger. Words he would take back in a heartbeat, but he knows that the damage has already been done.

Worthless. Pathetic. Waste of space.

Not true. None of it is true.

Burden. Vile. Unlov-

Your entire mind goes silent; as still as a stone, mirroring the way you whole body freezes in Yunho’s grasp. No longer do you tremble. No longer are your breaths coming in jagged stutters as sobs wrack your chest. In fact, it’s as if a sudden sense of calm has overtaken your entire form.

Each male can only watch as you slowly, but surely, begin to catch your breath, calming yourself down.

No, no, no, none of that. You seem to be talking to yourself now. We know that’s not true. We are not going back there again.

Isn’t it, though? That hissing voice is back. You’ve felt this way for your entire life, what makes now so special? It’s not like you are, anyways.

I don’t have to be. I don’t have to be anything but me, and that’s good enough. You state. We’re okay. We’ll be okay.

But-

Shhh, it’s okay, you coo to yourself inside your head, seemingly calming down all the while. We’re in a better place now. You’ve said what you’ve had to say, and now it’s time to rest.

Faintly, you register yourself sitting down and being pulled into someone’s arms. Blinking a few times, your vision clears enough to see Yeosang cradling you gently in his lap, Wooyoung and San beside him on either side as the eldest of the three begins to rock you softly back and forth.

Warmth blooms within you, starting from your mind and slowly radiating outwards as you feel all of them caressing you gently in their own ways.

You’re not alone. You never were, and you never will be. You continue to calm yourself, tenderly cradling those negative thoughts and putting them back into their proper places in your mind.

Places where you’re able to manage them, keeping them under control like you’ve learned to do.

You are safe. A content hum reverberates against your side, echoed softly by the others around you.

You are worthy. More hums greet your ears, one a little louder than the others as you feel the backs of someone’s fingers brush tenderly against your cheek. You don’t have to open your eyes to know that that touch belongs to Hongjoong.

More than all of that, you let out a long breath. One that’s still a little shaky, but is able to finally calm you down fully. You are loved.

The soft growls that reach your ears cause the corners of your lips to twitch upwards faintly.

Slowly, the gentle scent of sea island cotton fills your senses, and you realize that you’ve managed to bury your face into the side of Yeosang’s neck. Sniffling lightly, you manage to pull your head away, enough so to rub at your eyes with your hands. Luckily, Yeosang is there to hold you steady.

Your void begins to fall back into place.

Clearing your throat, you wipe at your lingering tears with the back of your hand. You don’t even have to look to know that they’ve surrounded you, making sure to keep enough distance to not suffocate you, but remain close enough all the while to let you know that they’re here for you.

You swallow thickly, throat raw from the intensity of your sobbing.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” your voice comes out strained, chest stuttering with the remains of your emotions lingering just beneath the surface.

“Dearest,” Yeosang’s voice is low, full of sorrow as you feel someone brush a hand over your head in comfort.

Turning your head, you see Hongjoong kneeling almost directly beside you, both Yunho and Jongho to his left. San is closest to your feet, while Wooyoung rests near your head, his hand finding purchase on your back as you continue to rest in Yeosang’s arms.

Each of them now seem to be holding onto you in some way or other. San’s one arm wraps around your lower legs, thumb brushing over your calves as he stares at you with nothing but concern in his eyes. Jongho’s hand is placed comfortingly on your lower thigh, just above your knee as his fingers cling onto you as if you’ll disappear at any moment. Yunho’s grip is light on your hip, the warmth from his hand providing a soothing relief against your skin.

A glass of water is presented to you from Mingi in the next moment, who stand above the three kneeling beside you on the ground. You take it immediately. The cool liquid soothes the burning in your throat, your thumb tracing over the side of the glass as you stare at your hands clutching onto it.

“We are sorry to know that you’ve ever had to feel that way before in your life,” Jongho’s grip tightens the slightest bit over your thigh as you meet his eyes.

“Please, don’t ever apologize for something like this, Dearest,” Yeosang whispers, eyes shining as he places a kiss to the side of your head. “We just wish you hadn’t had to fight these battles alone.”

In the next moment, your gaze is falling back to your lap, thumb still tracing over the side of the glass in your hands.

“Thank you,” you clear your throat. “For staying.”

“Of course, Petal,” Yunho’s thumb brushes gently over the skin of your hip. “We would never leave you to suffer these thoughts by yourself. We are here for you. All of us.”

“You are everything to us, and we will do whatever it takes to ease those worries in your mind whenever they appear,” Mingi says, situating himself on his knees right between Yunho and Hongjoong as he grabs your one hand in his own.

“We all care about you,” San’s voice draws you attention next. “Please, Baby, never forget that.”

“You will never be alone again,” Wooyoung leans in to rest his head against your own as Hongjoong’s hand falls to your shoulder for the time being. “Those thoughts have no truth to them, whatsoever.”

You can only nod, allowing your eyes to flutter closed as you relax further into their embrace.

“We worry about you more than you know, My Love,” Hongjoong once more trails the backs of his knuckles tenderly against your cheek. “Sometimes that worry isn’t always expressed properly, but please know that we care. We worry because we care. Your life is one of the most important things to us all: your happiness, your health, and your wellbeing. Whenever you need one of us, or all of us, we will be there.”

“You are safe,” Jongho leans in, resting his cheek against your leg as he looks up at you.

“You are more than worthy, My Love,” Hongjoong smiles faintly, his eyes shining as he meets your own.

“And you most certainly are loved,” Yeosang’s voice is low in your ear as you feel him tighten his grip around you, pulling you closer into his chest.

Again, several hums of agreement echo in your ears.

“Please, do not allow a mistake to control the way you see yourself,” Hongjoong keeps his tone soft, gentle as they continue to caress you like this.

You take a deep breath in, nodding subtly as your eyes flutter closed. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning more into Yeosang all the while, a heaviness to your lids that wasn’t there a minute ago.

“Get some rest, Petal,” Yunho’s voice rumbles out, and you vaguely hear him standing back to his feet. “You deserve it.”

You nearly whine at the loss of contact as they all slowly part from you, but you find your mind too tired to do anything other than lean further into Yeosang.

In the next moment, the glass is gently taken out of your hands and placed onto the side table by Mingi. His brothers and he all watch as Yeosang lays down once more on your bed with you in his arms, tucking you gently against his chest.

However, what they do not expect is for you to reach behind you and pat the open space on the opposite side of the bed.

Your brow furrows slightly, hearing a chuckle sound from somewhere in your room.

“Can someone-“

The words are barely even out of your mouth when you feel a warmth pressing up against your back, arms snaking around your waist from behind.

“I’ve got you, Baby,” San hums, shifting slightly closer into your back as he presses you firmly against his chest.

Of course, the younger male jumped at the opportunity to finally have a chance to hold you in his arms. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and so much more, though he just wishes the context were a little better. Oh well, he’s not complaining. Any chance to hold you to him is one that he will gladly take.

The feeling of your back pressed against his chest is unlike any other San has felt before. It’s as if you were made to always fit in his arms. A fact which makes him hum in content in the next moment.

A warmth blooms in his chest, smile tugging at his features as he feels the jealous glares of both Wooyoung and Jongho on his figure as he tightens his arms around your waist. Truly, the icing on the cake is the feeling of your one arm sneaking down to rest over his own as you continue to hold onto Yeosang with the other.

“Get some rest, Dearest,” Yeosang whispers to you, placing a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

“We’ll be right here when you wake up,” San assures you, pressing his face into the nape of your neck affectionately as his eyes flutter closed.

You can only hum contently in response, both males feeling as your body relaxes even further in their grips.

Cheeky bastard, Yunho chuckles, shaking his head.

You snooze, you lose. San smirks, shooting his brothers a victorious look out of the corner of his eyes as they all begin to file out of the room.

Watch over her, yeah? Hongjoong lips pull faintly upwards as he looks over the scene before him, nothing Kuroo curled up on top of the Snorlax beanbag chair in the corner.

Always, Captain. Yeosang smiles softly, shooting his brothers a reassuring look.

Call us if you need anything, Wooyoung adds, sending a final pointed look at San. That should be him right now. That was him. Damn bastard stole his spot.

We will, San replies, somewhat smugly as he curls in closer around your back.

Now, you’re just rubbing it in, Mingi whines, pout pulling at his lips.

Alright, I think it’s time to let Our Love rest, Hongjoong chuckles, sending a pointed look at the few lingering males near the doorway.

With a final glance your way, the five of them are leaving you to rest. Besides, there’s another male that needs checking up on for the time being.

The scene that Hongjoong walks in on is not one he’s familiar with.

For as long as he’s known the eldest, Seonghwa has always taken pride in keeping a neat and tidy room. Which is why the sight is so shocking. Hongjoong’s never seen Seonghwa destroy his workspace. Hell, he never thought the eldest was capable of such a feat.

Clothes and fabric are scattered all over the floor, shreds of material torn to ribbons in the frenzy littering the entire area. In the centre of the room, a lone figure curls in on himself. The eldest remains so still, that worry immediately takes over Hongjoong’s features.

Crouching down beside the male, Hongjoong places a gentle hand on the elder’s shoulder.

“Seonghwa-“

“I’ve ruined everything, haven’t I?” His voice is small. Perhaps the smallest Hongjoong has ever heard it in all of his life. “She hates me now. How could she not?” He blinks, gaze staring blankly ahead of himself as he continues to lie there on the floor in a pile of his own destruction. “Probably almost as much as I hate myself.”

“Seonghwa,” this time, the name is but a small sigh upon the younger’s lips as he sits himself on the floor beside the broken male. “She doesn’t hate you.”

“How can you be so sure?” The eldest finally turns to him, and what Hongjoong sees shining within Seonghwa’s eyes has his breath hitching in his throat.

Seonghwa’s gaze is broken, his puffy eyes bloodshot as dried tears stain his cheeks. There is so much sorrow, so much self-hatred within, that Hongjoong can only look upon his brother with sympathy.

Fresh tears begin to line the eldest’s vision the longer the two males hold each other’s gaze. Seonghwa’s whole body begins to tremble, his breathing quickening and coming in sharp pants as he gasps for breath.

“She won’t even look at me, Hongjoong,” he chokes on a sob. “She hates me, and she’ll never believe a word I say to her. She’ll never believe in me, again.”

“Seonghwa,” Hongjoong gently pulls his brother into his arms, cradling the elder male to his chest as he clings to the younger for dear life. “You made a mistake, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“A mistake which broke her,” his voice is barely a whisper against the skin of Hongjoong’s neck. “I heard everything, Hongjoong, and it’s all my fault.”

“I won’t lie to you, Hwa, and say you had nothing to do with it,” Hongjoong can hear the way the eldest’s breath hitches in is throat, “but you have to recognize that a lot has happened within the past 30 hours alone. It wasn’t entirely your fault. She did almost die.”

“She could have died because of my mistake,” he replies lowly.

“I thought Jongho already made it abundantly clear that it wasn’t your fault,” Hongjoong hums knowingly. “Yes, we all swore to protect her, but that task does not rest solely on your own shoulders. She is not your sole responsibility. Do not carry an unnecessary burden, Seonghwa. You do not have to do everything yourself.”

The eldest remains quiet for the moment, and Hongjoong takes this opportunity to continue.

“I am not here to lecture you,” he runs a comforting hand through Seonghwa’s hair, feeling his brother tighten his grip around his body in response. “Yes, she is angry, and upset, but she won’t always be. You know as well as I do that she’s not unreasonable. I don’t know how long it will take, but you have to continue to try Seonghwa. Don’t let this be how you lose her.”

“What if you’re wrong?” He sniffs, a few tears soaking into the material of Hongjoong’s shirt as they fall. “What if I’ve already lost her?”

“That’s never stopped you before, has it?” Hongjoong smiles softly, feeling the way Seonghwa shakes his head slightly against his shoulder. “The real question gets to be: will you ever stop loving her?”

“No,” Seonghwa’s reply is immediate, pulling away to stare into the younger’s eyes. “Never.”

“Exactly,” Hongjoong hums, sending his brother a reassuring smile. “You’re going to have to prove yourself to her. Apologize. Just don’t give up, Hwa, and whatever you do, never stop trying.”

A nod of understanding is all Hongjoong receives as he watches Seonghwa straighten, steeling his resolve once and for all.

“We know you didn’t mean what you said, but she does not. She doesn’t know you like we do.” He continues. “Give her time. Give her the space she needs. Just do not stop trying. Love isn’t meant to be easy. I think we’ve all already proven that.”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa chuckles slightly, “I guess we have.”

“So, stand back up, dust yourself off, and try again,” Hongjoong pats his brother firmly on his shoulder as he rises to his feet. “It’s unbefitting to see a King so down on himself, especially you.”

The eldest smiles faintly, wiping at his lingering tears as he stands back to his own feet. “Thanks, Joong.”

“Of course, brother,” once more, Hongjoong places a comforting hand onto Seonghwa’s shoulder. “All of us are still here for you, even when you make an ass out of yourself. Which is quite often, by the way.”

“Hey!” Seonghwa swats the younger’s hand away, a playful glare pulling at his features as Hongjoong simply chuckles.

“Now, clean this mess up,” he spares a glance around the room, his eyebrow quirking slightly in the next moment. “I’ve never known you to not keep a tidy space.”

A nod is all he receives in response.

“Tomorrow is a new day,” Hongjoong shoots one final, reassuring look towards his brother. “Start fresh, and try again.”

Which is exactly what he does.

For two weeks, that’s all Seonghwa does. He tries, and tries, and tries again, but you do not seem to want to listen to anything that he has to say.

The first week, you could hardly bear to look at him. Every time he so much as entered a room, you would immediately leave the vicinity. It didn’t matter if you were in the middle of a conversation with one of his brothers, or even if you were doing something like cooking. Instantly, you would stop whatever you were doing and leave.

A few times, he attempted to appear in front of you to prevent you from walking out on him, but all you did was stand there with your head turned to the side. Your eyes would glaze over, the hurt shining clearly within your gaze, and only causing his heart to squeeze painfully in his chest. Yet still, you refused to look at him.

At least during the start of the second week, you began to keep your gaze fixed on him. Even if it was full of disdain, or irritation, something was better than nothing.

As long as you were looking at him, it didn’t matter to Seonghwa. Still, he just wishes you would listen to him now.

Seonghwa cannot count the amount of times he’s started to open his mouth only for you to immediately cut him off.

“I don’t want to hear it,” you would sigh.

Though, that was not the worst of it.

“Pretty words, Seonghwa,” your voice constantly repeating that damned phrase would echo throughout his head for hours. “All you are is pretty words.”

Can you not see that he’s trying?

His brothers would do whatever they could to help, encouraging him in their own ways. Sometimes, if he was lucky, they would coax you into a room that Seonghwa was already in in hopes you would stay. Unfortunately for all of them, you caught onto what they were doing fairly quickly, shooting them pointed looks as you would storm from the vicinity without a second thought. You’d even go so far as to cuss them out a few times if you were in a particularly sour mood that day.

Half the time, you would ignore him, reminding him of the early days when you first came to them, and making his entire body shake as his heart felt like it was suffocating in his chest. He never wanted to go back to how things were then, yet that’s exactly how they are now.

Numerous times, he apologized, and continuously, he kept apologizing as much as he could. He knew you heard him, but you never acknowledged his words. The most he would get during those few times you stayed long enough to actually listen to what he had to say would be a disinterested glance out of the corner of your eyes when he was finished speaking.

“Are you done?” The odd time, you would reply, reopening the cracks in his heart that he had so carefully been attempting to mend.

“I will never be done trying to make things right with you,” he would answer.

All he would receive back was a sigh, before you would walk out on him yet again.

Though, the worst incident by far occurs around the end of the second week.

Currently, you find yourself sitting in the library, reading with Jongho, when Hongjoong decides to join you. The three of you soon begin conversing softly, and again, the topic of Seonghwa’s mistake is brought up.

Of course, having been constantly monitoring both your thoughts despite your void still being intact, as well as listening intently to your own voice, Seonghwa could hear every word of the conversation. He is also just a room away, working on a new jacket in his tailor shop to try and take his mind off of things for a little while.

Your voices are hushed, as if the thought of speaking any louder will disrupt the peaceful atmosphere, despite the tense topic at hand. He can still hear the way you sigh echoing through his head as the conversation takes another turn.

“He has apologized to you, hasn’t he?” Jongho asks, lowly.

“Countlessly,” you admit, and Seonghwa can just picture the way your eyes close in remembrance of every time he has apologized to you over the past two weeks.

“Have you given him a chance to fully explain himself to you?” Hongjoong’s voice is soft, cautiously posing the question given that none of them know how you’re going to react.

“Why should I?” The frown is evident in your voice as you respond to him. “He made his intentions clear the second he opened his mouth to me when we got back that day.”

“He was scared, Darling,” Jongho answers gently, and Seonghwa can just picture the way his brother more than likely places a comforting hand onto your knee. “We all were.”

“If all you’re going to do is make excuses for him, then leave,” your reply is pointed, and you most likely brush Jongho’s hand off of you as you say that.

“We’re not making excuses, My Love,” Hongjoong says, shaking his head slightly. “We all understand how hurt you were by his words. We know you’re still hurt by it.”

“Then you understand how difficult it is for me to talk to him right now,” you meet his gaze.

“You don’t have to talk to him,” Jongho begins. “Just listen to what he has to say. No one regrets what happened more than he does.”

“Look,” you sigh once more, “I understand you’re his brothers, but you need to understand that I am not ready to hear what he has to say. I spent too long in the darkness of my own mind, that I cannot risk a conversation that might make it reappear again.”

The two of them remain silent for a moment as your words settle over them. Even Seonghwa finds his breath catching in his throat as he recalls the state you were in merely two weeks ago after simply seeing him again after you regained consciousness.

His expression falls, and he finds himself sitting in his chair, for his legs no longer feel as if they will support him a moment longer.

What is he supposed to do? Every time he tries to get close to you, you pull away. Every time he tries, he only seems to mess everything up. You don’t want anything to do with him right now, and honestly, Seonghwa doesn’t blame you. He wouldn’t either, given everything that he’s done.

“My Love, no one is saying you have to talk to him right now,” Hongjoong’s voice manages to pull Seonghwa out of his thoughts for the moment, tuning back in to the conversation happening just beyond his walls. “We simply ask that you talk to him, or simply listen to what he has to say whenever you’re ready. We know he’s not the only one hurting because of this.”

You blink, breath catching slightly in your throat at how true Hongjoong’s words are. Even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself, you do miss Seonghwa the slightest bit. You miss his presence, and his laughter. You miss the way his smile can light up the room. Only, you don’t think your heart can take another loss, especially not from him.

“Knowing he has hurt you, and continues to hurt you, is the biggest regret of his life. All he wants to do is make things better,” Jongho explains, pausing only briefly to meet your gaze. “He loves you, Darling. More than anything. We all do."

“We know you’re suffering because of his mistake, My Love, but please,” Hongjoong draws your attention to him then, a pleading look in his eyes as he leans the slightest bit forward in his seat, “understand that he has been suffering, too. It kills him inside, knowing he’s hurt you, and that he cannot make things right. Seeing you in pain, and knowing he’s the cause of it nearly destroyed him. He cannot live without you. None of us can.”

Inhaling a deep breath, you let out a long sigh. Your eyes fall closed as you pinch the bridge of your nose. You’re starting to get a headache.

“I’m not having this conversation right now,” you stand, moving to exit the library in the next second. “I need time to think.”

“Take all the time you need,” Hongjoong replies gently, nodding softly as you walk passed. “Just please, don’t let our brother suffer like this for much longer.”

Your eyes flash, and Hongjoong realizes too late that he should have kept his mouth shut instead of speaking those final words to you.

“Ah, yes, the inevitable suffering from the loss of a loved one,” you nearly scoff, hand holding the door open as you turn to give them both a final look from over your shoulder. Your eyes are cold, shoulders tense as you huff dryly, “well, he’ll get over it eventually.”

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ssa-atlas-alvez · 4 months

Text

Pancakes Solve Everything (Spencer Reid x Reader)

This is a part of the christmas exchange! This is a gift for @c-m-stuff I hope you like it! @cmgiftexchange

Happy holidays! I hope you like it, this is the first thing I’ve written in a hot minute and the first fic I’ve posted in ages aha! Also, I hope you don't mind, it came out a little more gender neutral aha

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, drunk-ish (not really),

You sigh, running a hand over your face as you turn to Spencer. “I'm worried about Olivia,”

Spencer paused his making of his coffee and turned to you. “Me too.”

You look at him, dark rings around his eyes, hair slightly messier than usual. The stress made him look a few years older.

“I don't think that Ryder is a good influence,” You said, grabbing your favourite mug from the cupboard. “She's changed since they started dating.”

“I know. I had Garcia look him up but she couldn't find anything.” Spencer admitted.

“You ran a background check?” You asked with a soft laugh.

“Hey, I want to know who our daughter is dating.” Spencer said. “Besides, nothing came up. Yet… I've asked her to dig a little deeper.”

You huff a small laugh, “And if nothing turns up on Garcia's deep dive?”

“It has to be him.” Spencer says, shaking his head. “She was fine until she went to college and met him,”

“Don't get me wrong, we all partied in college- well, you didn't, you were like nine though so that doesn't count-”

“Hey, I was fourteen-”

“Nine, fourteen, same thing,” You shrugged, “But anyway, we all party in college, but it was supposed to settle down and, well… it's not settling.”

Spencer sighed, resuming his coffee making. “I think we need to talk to her,”

As if on cue, your daughter stumbles through the front door. Drunk. “Hey guys,” She says, giving a small wave as she continues to stumble pass you.

“Maybe when she’s sober,” You said, turning back to your husband - who gives a tight nod. “I’ll help her into bed - but I expect you to be getting the pancake mix out of the cupboard while I do so.”

“You got it Chef,” Spencer says with a laugh.

You rolled your eyes with a smile as you made your way to your daughter’s bedroom. Whilst she didn’t live here during college, you made sure to leave her room so she could come back during holidays and after college - if that was what she wanted.

You gently knocked on the door, “Olivia? Honey?” You call out gently. With yet another sigh, you open the door.

Your daughter was already asleep, face down on her bed, still in the clothes she left in last night. You decide to take her shoes off first, placing them at the foot of the bed. You then place a pillow under her head and a blanket over her body. Next was grabbing the trash can from her bathroom and placing it close to her at the side of her bed. With one last look at your daughter, you head back into the kitchen, leaving the door slightly open in case she needs anything.

“She’s out for the count,” You said, plucking your now full mug from the counter.

“Already?”

“She was already asleep when I got there,” You say, taking a sip. Spencer shot you a worried look. “It’s alright, Spence, we’ll sort this out. She’ll be okay,”

“I don’t think she should be with Ryder anymore. I know she’s an adult, but…”

“But you’re her dad and you can’t help but worry?” You asked, a small smile playing on your lips, despite the situation. “I know. We’ll sort it out, I promise.”

“I know we will,”

Your daughter woke up a few hours later, walking into the room silent but groggy as she poured herself a cup of coffee - sitting down at the breakfast bar. You and Spencer shared a look as you rose to sit opposite her.

“Olivia? We need to talk-”

“I think I need help,” Olivia said softly, cutting you off. “I- I don’t think I want to act like this anymore and I think I need help in stopping,”

Spencer nods, “That’s good, it’s good that you’re reaching out,” Spencer replied, taking her hand softly, giving it a small squeeze. “We’re you’re parents, we’re here to help you,”

“Thank you,”

“We’re here for you, every step of the way,” You said placing your hand on her arm, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” Olivia said with a small sniff. There was a moment of silence, “I think I should break up with Ryder,”

You both nod, “Whatever you think you need to do for you, sweetie,” You say, voice soothing.

“You guys aren’t mad?”

“You’re an adult, Olivia, but you’re young and we all make mistakes, we all fall down rabbit holes, it’s about accepting help to climb back out,” Spencer says.

“Your father always has such a way with words,” You joked lightly, Spencer and Olivia both huffing small laughs. “Right, who wants pancakes?”

"Pancakes?" Spencer raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, pancakes. They solve everything."

"I can't really argue with that one," Spencer says with a nod.

Soon enough, you were all sat with a mound of pancakes each.

“Are we going to address the elephant in the room?” Olivia asks nervously.

“Yeah, you did way too many pancakes,” Spencer nodded.

Olivia huffed a small laugh, “I meant about the whole acting crazy at college thing, but you did go overboard with the pancakes.”

“Hey, I stress Cook, leave me be.” You laughed. “And we can talk about the college thing whenever you'd like, if that's right now, we can talk now. If that's after pancakes, we can talk after pancakes.”

“Is now okay?�� She asks softly.

“Of course.”

“I want to break up with Ryder.” She says, twirling her fork. “I've been wanting to break up with him for a while, but I've been… worried about about it.”

“What's made you worried, sweetheart?” Spencer asked.

“I don't want to be alone,” Olivia says, “I know that sounds stupid-”

“It doesn't sound stupid at all.” You're quick to reassure her. “You're young, you're learning. Your Uncle Derek running into a door and forgetting to kick it is stupid. You're experiencing the world as an adult for the first time.”

Olivia and Spencer both huffed a laugh at the reminder of Derek. “I'll tell him that at work on Monday,” Spencer teases.

“Yeah? Also tell him that he may be your work husband but you're my actual husband so he needs to stop stealing you for cases,”

#criminal minds fanfictions #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #x reader #spencer reid x reader #christmas exchange #criminal minds christmas exchange 2023 #reader #gender neutral reader #accidentally gender neutral aha

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ijustwanttoreadfanfiction · 1 year

Text

Candyland

Rockstar! (ish) Eddie Munson x AFAB! Bar Dancer Reader

Cherry Pie is always the inspiration for some absolute filth. Reader works at a Coyote Ugly type bar - you'll find out, it's hard for me to describe this one. Because I suck.

Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (m receiving), p in v sex, suggestive content with the dancing?

The R-Bar, Chicago - 1991

Eddie is sweating his nutsack off, fingers red raw from shredding for almost two hours, voice sore and crackling. The mediocre applause that follows him off the small stage with the rest of the band hardly seems worth the pain. He snags a water bottle from a beat up trestle table, chugging it in relief as their manager Lambshank approaches; so named because he got shanked in prison with a lamb bone, true story.

“That was a killer set guys, great work, the crowd loved you!” He hails with so much bravado it verges on sarcasm.

“Yeah, all fourteen of them.” Eddie deadpans.

“I counted seventeen.” Jeff wryly supplies with a rough croak, finishing off his own bottle of water.

“Alright, it wasn’t the biggest crowd, granted, but everyone has to start somewhere.” Lambshank reasons.

“Yeah, but we started this group eleven years ago, Shank.” Eddie huffs, he knew the rockstar dream wouldn’t be an easy one to achieve but he thought after graduating and being able to pour all his time and what little money he had into the band they’d be playing bigger and better venues by now.

He was fed up, every place was like The Hideout back home, filled with drunks, and sticky floors. They did have a couple of genuine fans, who they appreciated even if they were slightly over-zealous in their affections; Gareth had never quite been the same since Luann, the forty-seven year old divorcee, threw her FF bra directly at his face mid-show.

“You fellas need a fun night out, get yourselves pumped up again and I know just the place.” Lambshank says bracingly, working his fists back and forth like a Rock ‘Em Sock ‘Em Robot. Eddie scrubs at his tired sweaty face, pushing his hair out of his eyes, wanting nothing more than to shower and go to bed, god he was getting old.

“Shank I don’t need a night out, I need to get some sleep.”

“Eddie, I promise you, you’ll enjoy it - and the first round of drinks are on me.” Shank offers teasingly.

_______________________________________________

“Candyland?” Gareth asks, reading the pink neon sign aloud as they all stand outside a rather nondescript looking building, the loud heavy bass thumping of music the only indicator there might be something going on inside.

“Candyland.” Lambshank affirms with a grin, gesturing towards the heavy door in front of them, a burly and surly looking doorman giving Lambshank a curt nod letting the group in.

It’s a cacophony of noise, and flashing lights, the place is packed to the rafters, the smell of stale beer and sweat heavy in the air. But it’s the movement from the bar area that catches Eddie’s eye, a group of women all around his age in various states of undress, dancing and grinding along to No Sleep Till Brooklyn - Beastie Boys, they also appear to be serving drinks.

“Welcome to Candyland boys!” Lambshank laughs, patting Eddie heavily on the back.

It’s certainly a show, the girls are laughing and screaming things out, men and women on the floor crowded up to the raised surface cheering loudly, throwing money, and generally having the time of their lives.

The song finishes up, and the bar girls all jump down to be replaced by an older looking blonde woman with a microphone in her hand.

“Candyland, how are we doing tonight?!” She yells, to a deafening cheer. “C’mon I know you can do better than that, I said HOW ARE WE DOING TONIGHT?” She corrals with a fist to the air.

The bar shouts back in unison, even Eddie finds himself wanting to join in.

“That’s what I like to hear.” She laughs throatily. “Now I want you to give it up, and by that I mean your hard earned dollars, for our girl JETT!”

I Love Rock ‘N Roll - Joan Jett starts up, along with a raucous cheer from the crowd as girl jumps up onto the bar in black PVC booty shorts, a ripped white crop top, black bra visible underneath and black high-top converse, her back is to everyone as she claps her hands and stamps along to the beat, Eddie tears his eyes away trying to work out the best route to the bar in order to actually get a drink when Gareth starts tugging hard on his arm.

“Jeez man what?” Eddie huffs in irritation, Gareth points dumbly back towards the bar, mouth hanging open, Eddie looks again and feels his own jaw drop.

“Holy shit it’s -” Jeff breathes, the girl is finally facing the crowd, throwing her body back and forth, a huge smile plastered across her pretty face.

“Y/n -” Eddie finishes his sentence with a gulp.

Eddie hadn’t seen you since graduation, but it was definitely you, despite your get up and apparent new found sense of confidence there was no mistaking your face. You had been something of a shrinking violet at High School, choosing to hang out with Eddie and the gang as they didn’t mind that you were painfully shy and preferred books to conversation, and whilst you had never been a fully fledged member of Hellfire you sometimes took part in the occasional campaign if they were short and Eddie coaxed you enough.

It didn’t seem you needed to be coaxed into doing anything anymore though as you gyrated on the platform, hooking your leg and arm around a pole between the bar top and ceiling, spinning about seductively. You headbang slightly, before dropping low to grab a handful of dollars from a howling man, one of the girls behind the bar passes you up a bottle of vodka and you expertly pour a shot into the man’s open mouth. As the song fades out, some of the other girls jump back up to join you, the vodka bottle in your hand being swapped for the microphone.

“Good evening Candyland.” You purr slightly out of breath, laughing loudly at the tumultuous response. “Life is sweet, but you know what? It could be a little sweeter, so how about we pour a little sugar on you?” You ask suggestively, throwing your arms up as Pour Some Sugar On Me - Def Leppard rings out.

Eddie doesn’t know where to look, well he knows exactly where he wants to look but he doesn’t know if he should. You’re back to back with one of the other girls, both winding down to your knees, you crawl across the bar and Eddie finds himself standing tiptoes to follow your progress. You lay on your back, arching upwards, so your chest is on display, while a redhead girl in Daisy dukes wets your body with the seltzer tap. You screech wildly, shaking your head allowing the liquid to splash the front row, Eddie thinks he might pass out as the blood thunders down from his brain to his cock.

You move back up into a kneel, taking the tap and spraying it into the raucous crowd, whilst necking a beer you’ve taken off of someone. You and the rest of the girls line up, all bending sideways so you’re grabbing the ass of the other, spanking in time to the music, before shaking your legs so the muscles bounce and jiggle.

“This is insane.” Gareth says weakly next to Eddie, and he has to agree. You straighten up, spinning around the pole once again until you’re head on staring at Eddie and the group, a wide beaming smile of recognition breaking across your face. You seem to be dancing with even more enthusiasm now you’ve clocked your old school friends, hands running over your own form, as you strut up and down the platform. The redhead from before has a bottle of whiskey in her hand which she pours on her chest with a subtle nod to you, you lean in and lick the gold liquid from her skin, to rapturous hoots and hollers, tracing your tongue up her neck until you meet her mouth; Eddie notices more dollar bills clutched in your hands as you pull away.

The song comes to an end, and you instantly jump down into the crowd, pushing patrons out of your way, practically racing towards the band.

“OH MY GOD, HI!” You shout excitedly, barrelling straight into Eddie first, he barely has time to snap out of his funk and embrace you back before you're pulling away to address the others. You’re flushed with exertion, but to him you’ve never looked prettier.

“Gareth, Jeff!” You hail, bringing each of them in for their own hug, Eddie having to fight down a sudden surge of jealousy.

“Y/n! What the hell man?!” Gareth greets you with a laugh, gesturing to the hive of activity still taking place on the bar behind you.

“Girl’s gotta make a living, ya know.” You tease, punching him lightly in the arm. “It’s my Aunt’s place, she’s the blonde one up there.” You point to the older woman who revved up the crowd earlier, she’s currently pouring a row of shots, but all the while keeping an eye on her girls, including you.

“What are you guys doing here?” You ask casually, like you’re not standing in front of them scantily clad, and the source of their awkward crotch covered stances.

“We’re on tour.” Jeff supplies.

“Holy shit - that’s so cool, where are you playing?” Eddie wants to answer you, but your devastating smile is making his brain short circuit.

“They played the R-Bar tonight. Lambshank, manager extraordinaire and long time patron of Candyland.” Lambshank butts in, offering his hand in greeting, you shake it and Eddie sees a slight wariness enter your expression.

“The R-Bar huh? I’d thought with how good you guys were in High School, you’d be playing bigger venues than that.” You don't say it maliciously, you seem genuinely concerned, and it sparks Eddie's brain and mouth back to life.

“We’ve been trying to but it’s not been going so well.” Eddie says quietly, and you nod in understanding.

“Where are you guys playing next?” You ask with interest.

“We’re at the R-Bar again tomorrow night.” Gareth says, unable to keep the dismay out of his voice.

“Ok, cool, leave it with me. Drinks on the house by the way, just go see my aunt. Catch up properly at close?” You ask quickly, already backing up towards the bar, slipping under the gap and whispering in your aunt's ear as you service the clamouring groups.

Eddie's gaze is firmly fixed on your retreating form, he always had a soft spot for you through school, ok maybe crush was more accurate, although he'd play it off as a brotherly protective vibe when people had asked but what he was feeling now was far from brotherly.

"I'll get us some beers." He says not caring if the others are listening, purposely ignoring Lambshank's request for a double JD, as he makes his way through the thronging horde, with a little elbowing he eventually gets to the front.

“What can I get you handsome?” Your aunt asks him, leaning across the bar.

“Uh - four Coors Dry please.” He responds absentmindedly watching the way you’re shaking a drink at the other end of the bar, clearly flirting with every customer and doing a damn good judging by your overflowing tip jar.

“Would you prefer for my niece to serve you?” Your aunt says with a wry smile.

“Oh - uh - no sorry, just haven't seen her in a while.” Eddie stammers, slipping across a $20 bill.

“You’re Eddie right?” He nods, she smiles and it’s not too dissimilar to your own. “I'm Paula. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name. She never used to shut up about you when she was a teenager, Eddie this, Eddie that.” She laughs, pouring the beers.

“She liked me?” Eddie asks in shock, the thought makes his head spin.

“I don’t think you need to put it in the past tense hunny.” Paula grins, sliding his $20 back across the bar. “You break her heart, I’ll get Doug the Doorman to break your fingers.”

Before Eddie can respond, your voice cuts across the noise once more, you’re up on the bar again, microphone in hand.

“Alright Candylanders, it’s come to our attention that we have some very, very special guests here with us tonight -” The seductive lilt in your tone is back, commanding the attention of everyone in the room, but none more so than Eddie. “- all the way from my hometown of Hawkins, Indiana, they are the next generation of rockstars, the one, the only CORRODED COFFIN!” You bellow pointing towards where Gareth, Jeff and Lambshank are still standing.

“They’re the real deal, and they’re playing at the R-Bar tomorrow, I know - I know it's a fucking shithole." You argue back to the murmured complaints. "But here's the deal, you all go and I will reveal my very secret, very intimate tattoo at the end of their show -” You teasingly pull at the waistline of your booty shorts, before stroking your hand down over your covered mound, the crowd going wild. “- Alright you bunch of horn dogs, save it for tomorrow, now let’s get this fucking party started!” You scream, throwing the microphone down to Paula, who gives you a huge wink.

Cherry Pie - Warrant blares out of the speakers, the girls clambering up to join you once more, pitchers of water in their hands.

“ANYONE ELSE FEELING WET?” Paula shouts into the mic, as you and the rest of the girls pour the pitchers over yourselves, Eddie watches completely enthralled as the water cascades over your chest and down your legs, barely noticing how Gareth and Jeff have joined him.

You stomp over towards them, a huge smile on your face again, dropping into an impressive front split, water droplets glistening over your flushed skin.

“Hey Eddie, you want a blowjob?” You ask loudly over the music.

“Do I want a what?!” Eddie asks incredulously, half laughing, half choking on his beer.

You jump down, grabbing a shot glass, and two bottles of liquor, topping it off with some whipped cream.

“A blow job.” You present to him with a devious smirk.

Eddie throws his head back in a proper laugh, the kind of laugh you used to savour hearing through school, he moves to take the shot but you slap his hand anyway.

“Oh that’s not for you big boy, it’s for me. You need to sit right here.” You say patting the bar top, Eddie looks at you warily but hoists himself up regardless with a smile, you wink and then move to the other end of the bar, whispering something to Paula as you pass.

“Ohhhhh! Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like Jett is about to give some lucky guy a blowjob!” Paula shouts through the mic, stopping mid pour to ring a bell, Eddie’s ears hurt from the wolf whistles and stamping of feet.

Two girls, the redhead and a brunette, help get him in the correct position, legs spread with the shot in between, you get lifted onto the bar by Doug blowing a kiss to him and the gathered crowd. Sinking to your knees you stalk towards him in a slow crawl, he would never be able to listen to Smooth up in ya in the same way ever again. When you reach him, you lean in close to his ear so only he can hear you, his arm automatically coming up to steady you as you hover.

“When I touch your knee, put your hand on the back of my head, and when I touch it again let go.”

You move back, grinning from ear to ear, running your hands over his chest, down and down, fingers brushing his thighs, until you reach his knees; Eddie lifts a shaking a hand to run through your hair at the crown of your head, you wink again before arching low, ass in the air, he can see your lips wrap around the glass; he knows you must notice his raging hard on.

“SHOT, SHOT, SHOT!” The bar screams and Eddie suddenly remembers there are a hundred people watching your antics. Once you have the drink secure, you run your hands back up his legs, tapping his knee once, he lets his hand drop from your head albeit reluctantly. You throw your whole body back, chest jutting out, swallowing the shot to ear splitting cheers and clapping, letting a carefully choreographed bit of liquid spill from the side of your mouth, using your thumb to seductively chase it back to your mouth with a firm suck.

You press a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips, before standing abruptly, taking a bow.

“Can I get one of those? Please?” Gareth asks, voice strained.

_______________________________________________

The rest of the night passes in a blur of girls dancing, pounding music and alcohol but Eddie only has eyes for you. Even when Gareth gets his ‘blowjob’ from the redhead, Cherry, you’re still his focus, the way you move, how openly you laugh with the girls sharing private jokes, the way you handle yourself; fearless and so sexy.

The bar finally closes at 2am, it’s oddly quiet now the sound system is off, only the chink of glasses being collected and general chit-shit fills the air. Lambshank is chewing Paula’s ear off about management opportunities, which she seems to be responding to with good humour. Gareth is following Cherry about like a lost puppy, helping her with clearing tables, and Jeff is asleep in one of the booths, a cocktail umbrella tucked behind his ear.

You’re wiping down the bar top, a shy smile on your face, the one Eddie remembered from school, it seems the shrinking violet is still there once the music is off.

“So Eddie Munson the rockstar huh?” You say, voice a little croaky from a night of shouting and singing.

“I wouldn’t say rockstar.” Eddie murmurs, sipping at his drink.

“Is the band your only job?” You ask pointedly, spraying at a stubborn sticky spot.

“Yeah.” Eddie says, rubbing at his neck feeling self conscious.

“Well then, you’re a rockstar.” You grin softly.

“Alright ladies, you can all head home, Mr Shank here is going to help me finish up.” Paula calls, meeting your raised eyebrows with a sheepish shrug of her shoulders.

Eddie watches as Gareth attempts to rouse Jeff from his deep drunken stupor, wondering if he can manage to get him back to the hotel by himself, not quite ready to leave your side, evidently you are thinking along the same lines as you place a delicate hand on his arm.

“Shall we help get the guys back to your hotel?” You suggest gently, trying not to laugh as Jeff sinks lower into the seat trying to pull Gareth in for a spooning.

“You want to come back with me?” Eddie asks, surprised, not believing his luck.

“Yes, if that’s ok.” You say blushing profusely. “Unless you don’t want me to.” You add quickly feeling unsure of yourself.

“No! - I uh, I mean I would love for you to come back with me.” Eddie stammers, his face burning likely matching the same reddened shade as your own.

“Ok, just lemme go get changed.” You smile breathlessly.

The hotel isn’t far from the bar, and the thirty minute walk allows you and Eddie to catch up some more, sharing lingering looks and touches where you can, in between half carrying, half dragging Jeff. Gareth being absolutely no help, floating along behind slowly, waxing lyrical about how he is in love with Cherry.

“Should I tell him she’s a lesbian?” You whisper to Eddie, stifling a giggle.

“Let him have his moment whilst he’s still hammered.” Eddie laughs. “I’ll break it to him in the morning, assuming he remembers.”

Your head is swimming with all kinds of Eddie related thoughts as you try your best to concentrate on the task at hand, helping Gareth into bed, he passes out as soon as his face hits the mattress in the double room. Eddie situates a now entirely unconscious Jeff with some difficulty, before making sure they both have glasses of water and Tylenol on the bedside table ready for their no doubt horrendous hangovers.

You’re bubbling with nerves as he closes the door, but they abruptly disappear when he takes your hand, leading you down the corridor to his own room. It's small and basic but at least it’s clean.

“So - uh do you want a drink?” Eddie asks, rooting about in a plastic bag on the side. “I have slightly warm Coke or slightly warm Mountain Dew.”

“Such variety! I’ll take a slightly warm Mountain Dew please.” You laugh, perching on the end of his bed, rubbing your hands over your leggings.

“For Madame.” He passes you a can with a silly little French accent, sitting next to you with a can of Coke. “Gotta say it was one hell of a show you put on tonight sweetheart.”

You’re blushing again, shaking your head in embarrassed disagreement.

“It’s nothing special, just silly little dances and tricks, but it pays the bills, and it helps Paula out.” You say dismissively.

“I think it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” Eddie mutters, his leg jiggling with nerves or pent up energy, you couldn’t tell.

“C’mon Eddie, it wasn’t that good.” You mumble, thinking if your cheeks got any warmer the sprinkler system would go off.

“When you did that thing with the shot, I nearly came in my pants.” He says honestly, laughing at his own admission, it sparks something within you, the same feeling of fearlessness you experience when you’re up on the bar. You stand up, taking his drink from his hand and placing it on the windowsill with yours, kicking off your shoes and pulling down your leggings so you’re left in your panties and pink Candyland sweater.

“It would be a waste if you came in your pants Eddie, when my mouth is right here.” You whisper, sinking to your knees in front of him, praying you hadn’t misread the signals.

Eddie doesn’t give you long to worry, grabbing your face in his hands, leaning down to kiss you hard, tongue stroking into your mouth making you moan softly.

“Jesus Christ, I can’t believe this is happening.” Eddie murmurs against your lips as you unbuckle his belt, lifting his hips to help you tug his pants and boxers down. His cock slaps against his belly, long and hard, making your mouth water, you wrap your lips around him eagerly, tongue flat against the shaft as you bob up and down.

“Oh - f-fuck.” Eddie groans, hands back in your hair just like at the bar, gently guiding your movements. The room is filled with the sounds of your choking and sucking, the wet slide of your mouth over his throbbing dick, and Eddie’s whimpering gasps.

“Yes! Oh baby, your mouth feels - shit - so fucking good. Used to dream about you - fuck - used to dream about you doing t-this.” He moans, hips pistoning up to meet your open throat as you move quicker. “Can I - ah! Can I fuck you? Please sweetheart?” He begs, and it sends a surge or arousal through you.

You pull off him with a broken gasp, lips swollen and wet.

“Yes please.” You say sweetly, slightly out of breath.

Eddie’s hands are everywhere as he hauls you up from the floor, peeling your panties down, fingers tracing through your wetness whilst he kisses you deeply again.

“Condom - where the fuck did I put the fucking condoms?!” He hisses, stretching back down to retrieve his pants, you laugh peppering his neck with licks and nips.

You’re practically dripping, hovering over his cock, waiting with baited breath as he rolls the condom on, angling the hard tip to your slick opening. Both of you letting out loud moans as you sink down inch by inch, walls hugging him tightly, spasming with the stretch.

“Eddie - oh my god!” You whimper, nails biting into his shoulder, rocking against each other, his balls hitting your ass.

“Yesss, you feel like fucking heaven.” Eddie growls, using his strength to hammer up into you, both knowing the other wasn’t going to last long, the entire evening serving as foreplay. You bring your fingers down to rub roughly at your clit, whining into his mouth through messy kisses, each thrust of his cock bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Eddie, babe, I’m gonna cum.” You gasp, pussy tightening almost to the point of pain, vision going blurry as you climax hard.

“Oh god - baby! Fuck -” Eddie chokes out, arms holding you in a bruising grasp, head against your neck as he jerks his hips at a brutal pace, hurtling into his own release with a loud cry.

Eddie continues to pump gently into you, drawing out your orgasms, lazy kisses, and stroking touches bringing you back down.

“Goddamn, why didn’t we do this years ago?” He asks breathlessly, as you laugh with exhilaration, he lays back on the bed pulling you with him, thundering heartbeats steadily slowing.

“Y/n?” Eddie asks quietly after a time, fingers stroking up and down your thighs.

“Mmm?” You murmur sleepily.

“I know I was a little distracted back there, but - uh - I didn’t see any kind of tattoo.”

You laugh again, pushing off the bed, rummaging through your bag, throwing a small packet at Eddie.

“Candy cigarettes?” He queries in confusion.

“Yep, with a free Batman rub-on tattoo.” You grin, jumping back onto the bed straddling him once more, shoving one of the candy sticks into your mouth.

“Those are a filthy habit, sweetheart.” Eddie teases grinning widely up at you.

“Care to do the honours?” You smirk devilishly, waving the temporary tattoo at him.

_______________________________________________

#eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson 18+#strangers things eddie munson #reader insert #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fandom #eddie munson fanfic

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discount-shades · 10 months

Text

Dead or Alive : Prologue

Prologue: Hang ‘Em High

A/N: So it’s gonna be a western. This part is partially based on the Cody Jink’s song Fast Hand.

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader

Warning: Western themed violence. Brief contemplation of suicide

Word Count: 1000 ish

Summary: Jake gets a new name.

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“Whoa Jet,” Jake felt the noose tighten as the black horse under him took another step forward. He could feel the coarse hemp rope abrading the skin of his neck and restricting his airways. He glanced up at the tree branch the noose was looped around. It was sturdy and would definitely hold his weight if, and when, Jet eventually walked out from under him and left him swinging.

The thought of digging his spurs into Jet’s sides to just get it over with crossed his mind. With the life he led he was bound to die at the end of a noose anyway, why bother delaying the inevitable? He wiggled his hands again, trying to loosen the rope that had them tied behind his back but the rope just kept tightening and digging into the skin of his wrists.

He took another strained breath and blinked the sweat out of his eyes. Judging by the sun it was mid afternoon. He had been there for hours, sitting under the only tree for miles. Honestly he was impressed that the men who left him here had been able to find a tree in the dark to hang him under. With all the people he had killed, he was bound to run afoul of someone’s vengeful kin. Knowing this, Jake still felt that it was all a little unfair. After all, he only killed people that needed killing, or asked for it, no innocents.

The men had been relations of some kind to the kid that had challenged him to a duel in a little town outside Fort Worth. He had tried to talk the kid out of it, tried to convince him that it was a fool's errand. But the kid had been adamant, and more than a little drunk so, rather than get shot in the back as he walked away, Jake had squared up. It came with the territory. If you had a fast hand every cowpoke and wannabe gunslinger wanted a turn to dance, convinced that they would be the one to finally shoot him dead.

It had never been his plan to become a gunslinger. When he had headed west at fourteen, after he had put a bullet between his fathers eyes, he had only wanted to escape. Ironically it was his father who had taught him how to quickdraw. One of only two things his old man had ever taught him. The other being how to take a punch.

– – –

Jake was recognizable, his reputation preceding him, and when he had walked out of the saloon through the swinging doors the men had grabbed him, and knocked him unconscious in the process. When he came to, his hands were tied behind his back and they were forcing him onto Jet under this lone tree. The noose was already tight around his neck.

The moon was full and he blinked groggily at the faces around him. Now that he was on the horse, strung up and ready to swing, the men began glancing anxiously at each other. None of them made a move to smack Jet’s rump or fire a gun in the air to cause the horse to flee and leave him hanging. Hell, his own peacemakers were still sitting snug in their holsters slung low around his hips.

“You do it.” He heard the man with a bushy beard say as he shoved a man with a grey hat.

“I’m not going to.” Grey Hat said. He motioned toward a man with a tattered vest. “Bill, you lead the horse away.”

He watched the man called Bill shake his head and Jake rolled his eyes, glad of the dark masking his expression. Here he was ready to swing and everyone was too yellow bellied to make him. Self preservation kept him from mocking them but it was a near thing.

The men stood around his horse, and glanced nervously at each other. It was one thing to plan a murder, to talk about it over some rot-gut. But the cool night air was sobering. Jake learned that when he had finally gotten sick of the beatings and killed his father. For the first few years he had thrown up every time he killed someone. Now he just felt a little bit of his soul leave every time he pulled the trigger. He wasn’t sure how much of his soul was left at this point.

“We’ll just leave him here.” Beardy said eventually and the others nodded, all of them unable to follow through. Jake knew if he ever saw them again he wouldn't have the same qualms. They had mounted their horses and rode off, leaving Jake sitting alone under the tree. Tethered by a sturdy branch.

– – –

The sun was sinking when he finally heard hoofbeats coming up behind him. “Well look who we have here?” Jake groaned. He knew that voice. “How’s it going, Slayer?”

“Bradshaw.” He grunted out hoarsely as the riders rode around in front of him. He knew most of them only through aliases. The names they called each other while pulling jobs that needed more guns, when they didn't want their real names spoken. But Bradshaw he’d known for years. “You gonna stand there or are you gonna cut me down?”

“Maverick’s got a job.” Bradshaw slowly drew a knife and rode closer to Jake. “The payroll for that big ranch is supposedly going to be in a bank in a town south of here.” He casually flipped the knife in his hand. “I’ll cut you down if you join us. Coyote is already in.” He added mentioning the man Jake usually ran jobs with.

“Do I have a choice?” Jake asked and Bradshaw laughed.

“No you don’t, Hangman.” He leaned over and reaching up, he began to saw through the rope.

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin/reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman/reader #top gun hangman #topgun maverick #topgun hangman #western!au #suicide

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hes-a-plant · 9 months

Text

I found this absolutely gorgeous filet crochet pattern on the Antique Pattern Library! (And there’s a charted version on The Internet Archive)

It’s from Édouard Boucherit’s Grand Album de Modèles pour Filet No. 9

Look at it! It’s so pretty!

But it’s 151 stitches by 87 stitches, so I need to be absolutely sure that I know what I’m doing before I start it, lol. It would be terrible to get halfway through and realize that my stitch height or something is off and warping the picture.

(For reference, one of my previous projects was 36 stitches by 26 stitches. That’s 936 stitches total. It took me about 6 ish hours to complete, and is 35cm wide.

This pattern, 151x87, is 13,137 total stitches. That’s fourteen times bigger than my previous project. If we assume that it’ll take me the same amount of time per stitch (I hope not. I hope I get at least a bit faster with practice) it will take me 84 hours to finish.

Also, assuming stitches are the same size as in my previous project, the finished dimensions will be about 85cm by 147 cm (or about 2 foot 9 by 4 foot 10)

So yea. Big project. But it’s SO PRETTY.

#filet crochet #filet crochet pattern #deer #antique pattern library #APL #internet archive #big project #patterns #crochet patterns #filet crochet patterns #rambles

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skyebounded · 2 years

Text

My Sweetest Angel

.main masterlist. .the walking dead masterlist.

premise: It’s been three weeks, two days and fourteen hours since you’ve been with Daryl, but who is really counting?

Warnings: filth that's really it tbh. Fingering, vaginal sex, swearing, hand jobs, dirty talk (well as much as Daryl can..) fluff-ish

WC: 2.5k

A/N:This is my first walking dead smut, but it will not be the last. I just started re watching the series for the 4th time with my bestie, and she is a major Daryl girl, so this one is for you @anothernightsky 💕💕 ALSO special thanks to @23victoria, thanks for the help my love!

Three weeks, two days and fourteen hours, that’s how long it had been since you had seen him, but who was really counting. The chaos that had separated you both had come as a complete surprise, and it was by sheer luck that you had found each other again, thank god. You could have been spending your reunion doing something a little less pg-13 or let's face it, R, but there was no point in lying to yourselves about what you really wanted.

Wandering around an old abandoned building in search of supplies was his idea, something about ‘replenish our supplies for everyone..’ but you only saw it as a excuse to get some alone time with him, so when Rick said that he would go with Daryl, you shut that down immediately, finding some miraculous excuse as to why you needed to go with him rather than Rick.

You weren’t sure if Rick believed your ridiculous lie, but nonetheless he gave in, and so therefore you and Daryl were on your way, alone, with no one or nothing to stop you. After a quick sweep of the building, making sure that you were in fact alone, and that no pesky walkers lingered, it was mere moments before Daryl was catching you in a hard passionate kiss. Leaning down, he grabs your thighs, hoisting you up against the wall with a soft thud. The abruptness of your back hitting drywall had your mouth falling open to let out a breathy groan, one that Daryl swallows, taking full advantage of your open mouth, as he uses his tongue to claim you. You wrap your legs around him tightly, whimpering when you feel the way his hand squeezes at them, fingers digging into your delicate skin. One hand threaded through his hair, the other gripping tightly to his leather clad shoulder.

He grinds his hips into your, his hardening length pressing firmly against your throbbing cunt, the contact driving you beyond wild.

“Daryl p-please..” you whisper, gasping when his lips move down your neck, sucking harshly at your skin. Purple splotches rising to the surface in his wake.

“Please what, angel?”

He lets out a raspy growl when you rut your hips against him again in your own search for friction to ease the ache growing between your thighs, his cock straining painfully.

“Baby, fuck me please,” you moan out as he nips at your skin, soothing the mark with his deft tongue. He doesn’t need much convincing, everything considered, not with the way that he so desperately needed to feel you, feel your walls wrapped around him tightly. Daryl sets you down gently, keeping you pinned against the wall as his hand slips down the front of your trousers and to your needy cunt. Pushing past your panties, his fingers traipse through your wet folds, collecting your arousal as he teases at your entrance.

“Missed me and my cock that much, huh?” His voice is low and gruff. “All wet for me, baby girl?”

“God yes,” you say, your voice breathy. Daryl sinks a finger into you, smiling when your head hits the wall with a soft thump, and your body tenses. The reactions your body gave to the slightest contact from him would never cease to amaze you. Your nipples harden, your breath grows heavy, each nerve ending in your body comes to life, and all by a simple touch.

He works his digit inside you, as slowly as he possibly could, but being without you for so long was taking a toll on him. The sound of his fingers pumping inside you was music to his ears. His lips are back on your neck, licking, sucking, nipping at the soft skin, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck and over your collar.

“Daryl, please I need you…I need to feel you..” you beg, rolling your hips to meet his palm as it firmly presses against your aching clit, giving the smallest bit of relief. Your hand finds the waist of his pants, tugging with great frustration at his belt. The soft chuckles that he lets out against your neck is enough to drive you wild, a whole new sense of arousal pooling between your thighs, one that he assuredly feels coating his fingers. With his free hand he helps you pull off his belt, leaving you to do the rest. Unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his jeans and boxers down, a smirk gracing your face as soon as his cock springs free, beads of precum leaking from the head. Your lips pressed together, and your legs clench around his hand. The lick of your lips and the soft whimpers were a picture perfect sight and sound for him.

“God, I’ve missed you.” you mutter, wasting no time as you take his cock into your small hand, using your thumb to spread around the precum, giving you a little more lubrication to work his shaft. He was like puddy in your hand, his hips thrusting to meet the movements of your hand with loan raspy grunts. With each slow stroke of your hand, he could feel himself unraveling. After all, it had been a really fucking long time since he had felt your hand wrapped around him so tightly.

“shit.”

Burying his face in the nook of your neck, taking in the familiar sweet scent of you that he just couldn’t get enough of. Daryl, still so focused on you, adds another finger to the mix, curling them just right to have you singing sweet profanities, gasping as soon as you feel his thumb drawing tight circles against your clit.

“Spread your legs-ah-a little wider-for me, baby girl.” He says, his words broken as breathy moans leave his lips. You do as you’re told with no complaint, giving him much better access to coax sinful sounds from you as he picks up the pace of his deft fingers, pumping them in and out of you, years using a crossbow were paying off efficiently.

Kneading your breast through your shirt, rolling your hardened bud between his fingers, as he pinches down on it making you gasp. He pulls back and looks up at you, dark lust filled eyes watching you closely as your face contorts at the new speed he had set, working his fingers even faster when he feels the way your walls clench around them, knowing damn well that you were close.

“Just like that…just like that oh fuc-,” You struggle, your own pace on him never wavering, if anything it only makes you stroke him harder, faster, as you listen to the sounds that you would never picture coming from him. Daryl’s head comes to rest against yours, his lips pressing hard against yours in a heated kiss, one of the few, and let's be honest, favorite indications that he was close. His hips begin to stutter in your hand, even more so when your hand tightens around his throbbing cock.

He removes your hand reluctantly from him, kissing your nose when he sees the scowl forming on your perfect lips, but despite the disappointment of him stopping you, you couldn’t ignore the heat burning in your abdomen.

“Cum for me, angel,” he says slowly, raspily. Your body tenses, as you come instantly, using the wall and the hardness of Daryl’s body to keep you standing as your legs threaten to give out. Mouth hanging open while all sorts of obscenities and his name fall from it.

Your hips never stop, as you continue to rock yourself against his fingers, riding out your orgasm, all while he keeps up the same pace. The feeling was nothing compared to what you could give yourself, it never was, this was addicting, something that you knew you could never live without.

Your lips find his, capturing him in a messy heated kiss, tongue, teeth and tongue all colliding, as he slows his fingers, removing them from your wet heat. Your skin was on fire and your mind foggy, you needed him, needed him to fill you up like he did so often, and now was no different. Pulling back, your eyes meet, the familiar hunger in them. He pulls you from the wall, giving your back a few quick taps.

“Bend over,” he rasps.

Without hesitation, you swipe the contents from the nearby table to the ground, slipping out of your boots, trousers, and panties in one foul swoop, as you do as you're told. Using your elbows and hands to keep you slightly off the table, you look back at Daryl with a look of anticipation. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open as soft breathless pants escape you. You were begging to be fucked and he wasn’t about ot pass on the opportunity. Getting into position behind you, staring down at your naked cunt, made his throbbing cock twitch. Swaying your hips back and forth as you wait patiently for him.

Holding his hand out to you, he tells you to spit, smirking when you do just that. He gives a quick few strokes to his cock before he's lining himself up, stretching you out with every sinful inch that he pushes into you. The guttural moans breaking free from you as he bottoms out inside you, clenching around him as he stills, letting you adjust. God, you missed this, the feeling of being so utterly full of him.

Pushing your hips back against him, you smile when the deep groan fills the open air, his hands flying to your waist, fingers desperately grabbing at the curve of your hips. He couldn’t hold out any longer, pulling out of you only to come thrusting back harder, noting the way the table shook beneath you. Daryl finds an agonizingly slow pace, rutting his hips against your, listening to the sounds of your whines and whimpers as he hits all sorts of spots inside of you. Your walls, already sensitive as you push back against him harder to meet his own thrusts, urging him to go faster, harder.

“God, you feel s’good,” he mumbles.

Nails digging into the wood as you try to find something to sturdy yourself as he continues to amp up his pace, pulling and pushing you along with his movements. The feeling of him so deep inside you had your head reeling, and your body aching, and yet you still wanted more.

“Daryl, faster please,” your whine broken as you glance back at him. His hair a mess in his face, a thin layer of sweat on his brow, and a focused and hungry look on his face. His grip on you tightens as he heeds your words, pulling you back on his cock faster and harder, grunting with each snap of his hips, with each slap of your skin. God he was pretty, so focused on the way his cock moved in and out of your cunt. Snaking your hand down between your thighs, you begin to rub at your clit, working it in the same pace and rhythm as Daryl’s thrusts.

“Just like that, angel, keep touching yourself for me,” he praises.

Your body shudders, walls clenching greedily around him as your second orgasm hits you, a cry ripping from your chest as your body goes rigid, slumping down on the table. Daryl pulls out of you, giving you no time to come down from your high before he has you back against the wall, hiking you up it once more.

He’s lining himself back up to your entrance, sinking in, leaving you with a strangled cry, your walls sensitive and tired, but you didn’t care, not when it felt this damn good. Tightening your sore legs around his center, he continues, pounding into you with fervor. His hands grip your thighs tightly, fingers no doubt leaving bruises in their wake, his breathing heavy and wild while his lips exploring the exposed skin of your chest, as he pushes into you deeper.

“Fuck fuck fuck..” you curse, panting heavily as you do your best to stay grounded, but it was no uses. Your head slumps back against the wall as your eyes fall shut, tears prickling in them as Daryl brushes against your sweet spot repeatedly. Your orgasm was building faster than the first two, and he knew it. Knew it from the way your nails dug into his exposed biceps, or the way your pretty little mouth whispered the sweetest profanities, but most of all, the way your abused walls tightened around him like a vice, making his hips stutter, as he pushed harder into you, desperate for his own release.

He sucks at the skin of your neck, harsher as he nears the edge, littering wet open mouth kisses up the expanse of your neck to your jaw and chin, before his eager lips meet yours in a frenzied kiss. You weren’t sure who came first, but it didn’t matter. Daryl’s hips slow as he hits his own high groaning loudly as he slowly moves to ride out his high.

White light blurs your vision, your body set aflame as your third orgasm hits you, and nothing but euphoric bliss overcomes you. Your own moans match that of his as you revel in the feeling. Body tensing, legs squeezing at him tightly as you feel his cock twitching inside of you, thick hot ropes of cum coating your abused walls, soothing the ache.

After a moment of listening to each other's heavy breathing, and shared sighs, Daryl slips out of you, and you whine at the loss of him. He chuckles softly as he peppers your face in kisses, nuzzling his nose against yours before placing a few soft kisses to it, as he eases you down from the wall, holding you up as your legs threaten to give on you.

“You good?” he asks, moving your hair out of your sweat ridden forehead, cupping your cheeks in his large calloused hands, as he guides you to look at him.

“Never better,” you breathe with a smile.

Leaning up on your toes you kiss his lips gently, wrapping your arms around his neck whilst tangling your fingers in his messy hair.

“You do know that it's been three weeks, two days and fourteen hours, and we have a lot of making up to do, right?” you explain.

He cocks his head at you, brow slightly raised.

“Well how much did we make up for just now?”

“A day, tops.” you wink.

Daryl scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Well shit, guess we have a few more runs to make then, don't we, baby girl?”

“I believe we do, Dixon, I believe we do.” you smile, giving him one more kiss.

You look around for something to clean yourself up with, before slipping back into your pants and boots, turning on your heel to march out of the building.

“Shall we get started then?” you ask, looking back at him with a wiggle of your brows.

“C’mon then, let's go.” he chuckles, giving a quick slap to your ass before following you out.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #the walking dead smut #the walking dead fluff #JJ smut #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #norman reedus #the walking dead daryl #fear the walking dead #isle of the dead

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dw-writes · 5 months

Note

66 for the Spotify thing 💖

Song: Blow by Atreyu Fandom: American Gods lol okay so this song is actually from an anime rage playlist that i listen to at work a LOT because people get on my nerves. it's not exactly sticking to the song, but i think it's close. I hope you like it!! in terms of where this sits, it's somewhere during their travels. I'm not 100% sure where as of right now, but I'll figure it out later! :D Chapters:Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine || Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven || Chapter Twelve || Chapter Thirteen || Chapter Fourteen || Chapter Fourteen-ish || Chapter Fifteen || Chapter Sixteen || Chapter Seventeen || Chapter Eighteen || Chapter Nineteen || Chapter Twenty || Chapter Twenty-One || Chapter Twenty-Two Requests:Mad Sweeney and The Holidays || The Invasion and the Stressful Blows One Shots:The Invasion and That One Thankful Holiday || The Invasion and the Weight of Change || Eyes On You

The Invasion and the Stressful Blows

There was something that was itching at Sweeney, making him irritable. It was easy to tell, after knowing him for so long – there was a hunch to his shoulders, a tightness that coiled down his neck and around his spine until it held him tight. It reminded you of something, something saw days or months or years ago, it was hard to remember, but you were sure he reminded you of himself, of the things you saw while learning his name. He paced back and forth and you saw a war brewing across his shoulders that made your own ache.

“Hey,” you gently called, voice falling flat in the empty hotel room.

He turned on the ball of his foot, old carpet protesting under his boot.

It was far too early, you thought, for him to be withdrawn and angry and you couldn’t even pinpoint what happened to put him in a mood. You’d just woken up to see him pacing, muttering to himself, clenching and unclenching his fists at his side.

You shifted on the bed, curling your legs under you and pulling the blanket over them as he stalked past again.

“Sweeney,” you called through a yawn.

He twisted again at the door, breathing in harshly through his nose as his eyes flitted over you without seeing you. You wondered if he even heard you. You swallowed and rose from the bed, letting the blanket pool around your feet as you carefully padded to him.

“Sweeney,” you whispered, reaching out to brush your hands over his arms.

He flinched, squeezing his eyes shut, muscles tensing beneath your fingers.

“Where are you?” you gently asked.

He exhaled slowly, keeping his eyes closed. “Field,” he muttered after a long moment, “War.” His body went limp as you gave him another squeeze, leaning into you until you both crumbled to the floor. His arms wrapped around your back and held you there.

“Wanna talk about it?” you murmured against his shoulder.

He grunted, huffed, and finally sighed. “No,” he mumbled. He dropped his head against your shoulder, curling around you. You held him tight, rubbing your fingers up and down his back. You could feel the rage easing out of him one pass at a time, until he melted around you with a sigh.

“Now that you’re a little more relaxed,” you said, leaning back to look up into his face, “You wanna blow off some steam?”

Sweeney was on his feet before you finished your sentence, yanking the dingy mattress to the floor with a grunt. “Been a bit, luv,” he grunted as he flung his denim shirt to the side, “Hope you’re ready.”

“I’ll be fine,” you argued as you stood. You rolled your shoulders. “Ready?”

He lunged.

The two of you ended up paying for another night and some damage to the box spring, but at least Sweeney looked lighter when the two of you finally left.

~*~Thanks for Reading~*~ ~*~Tag List~*~

@hannon-say || @divadinag || @superflannel || @jinxy-toast || @the-bluest-hour || @karmabites2313 || @siedrkona1991 || @hstott || @lakeli || @massivecolorspygiant || @leximus98 || @weirdo125 || @fleeingdawn-blog1 || @madamecoyote || @postgradandstupid || @hopplessdreamer || @ceyruh || @animatenebrae || @ultrablackwidower || @callmemaeverick || @loisbaggings || @fictional-hooman || @babypink224221 || @quietwitchworld || @mags-writes || @sunshine-gumdrop || @theonlylolland

#the invasion series #american gods #mad sweeney #mad sweeney x reader #pablo schreiber

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 10 months

Text

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Fourteen

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Meow Meow Morpheus Makes an Appearance, Reader and Morpheus Spend Peaceful Time Together (And Then Act Like it Never Happened), Language, Desire Finally Makes an Appearance, Sexual Tension, Seduction, Desire Being Desire, Reader is NOT Amused.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later).

Word Count: ~2.2k

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Sleep had not come easy that night after the private and less-than-helpful conversation with Morpheus. Tension filled the room like thick fog clinging to early morning and it didn’t help that Morpheus wasn’t going to leave you alone for the night. No, the bastard was just going to sit at the table and watch you sleep the entire night, brooding in his own thoughts. At least Matthew told you that he planned on napping and he wasn’t going to stare at you all night. In the end, you had tossed and turned for at least four hours, falling asleep only to wake from a violent churning of memories and dreams that left your mind reeling in chaos. Relief only came when fingertips brushed down your temple and Morpheus’s voice gently lulled you into a dream involving a grand library, a sitting area with a homely fireplace crackling, and a lounge chair that called your name.

Meddling Morpheus… but you had to give him your silent thanks for easing your mind while you rested your body.

Enticed by the crackling fire, the steaming cup of coffee sitting on the side table, and one of your favorite books waiting next to it, you took a seat, covered your lap, and opened the book. Losing yourself in the book, you felt the tension and stress slip from your body with every crack and pop the fireplace made. You didn’t know how long you sat there, relishing the book in your hands and enjoying the radiating warmth from the fireplace. It was a nice change of pace compared to how life had been in the last month. You were in the middle of taking another sip of the coffee that magically refilled itself, when you caught sight of him.

Your eyebrow went up.

“Don’t you have more important things to do than watch me read?” You asked him. His unblinking blue eyes stared back at you for a few short moments until he stepped forwards, his little black paws carrying him until he reached the lounge chair. From there he looked up at the armrest for a second and then effortlessly jumped up onto it. You hated to admit that Morpheus’s cat form was adorable and all you wanted to do was snuggle with him in front of the fire. Looking over his sleek black coat, you reached over before pausing. There was no way the ancient being would let you pet him, would he… Seeing your fingers freeze in the air, Morpheus slowly stretched his neck out and brushed his cheek against your fingertips. You didn’t know if this was an invitation or him just being territorial by marking you with his scent.

Well if he didn’t want you to pet him then he shouldn’t have put himself in this position in the first place.

Mind made up, you stretched your fingers out and brushed your fingertips across the top of his silky head. Your lips quirked when he pushed his head against your fingers and let you drag them down his back. Of course he had a coat so silky and soft that you could spend the rest of your life trailing your fingers across it, entirely enraptured by the feeling. To be honest, you had been daydreaming about running your fingers through his hair when he was in his human form. His wild locks looked so fluffy. While you continued to stroke Morpheus, you saw his blue eyes eyeing your blanket-covered lap hungrily. He didn’t want to sit in your lap… did he?You closed your eyes, cleared your mind, and opened them. Nope, you weren’t imagining it, he was still looking at your lap with envy. You caved. Lifting the book from your lap, you put it aside before gently patting the space.

“This changes nothing, Morpheus,” You spoke to him as he stretched his midnight paws out and helped himself to your lap. While he was making himself comfortable in your lap, you caught the occasional midnight night blue eying you. “I’m still quite irate with you.”

His nose twitched while he settled down, curling his paws beneath him and gently flicking his tail around. Morpheus’s eyes stared into yours, surely gloating at you for not being strong enough to say no to him when he was in feline form. You scoffed and twisted your eyes from his, looking at the wall of books to your right. You always felt at odds with him, either with sexual aggression or just plain anger. Never peace. Not like this. Not this calm, warm, gentle peace that felt right. Morpheus was your haunting devil, but at this moment, he was a sweet angel you were content with spending time with.

You picked up the book again, opened it to the page you had left off, and started reading once more. Your free hand absentmindedly went back to the top of Morpheus’s fur-covered head, and you fell into a pattern of running your fingers down his neck. Your mind shifted back to the book, vaguely picking up that the cat in your lap had started softly purring and the softly flicking tail had finally settled across your wrist.

It was raining the next day, the kind of London downpour that you knew would last the entire day and then into the night. It was a weather that meant a nice day spent inside, or a trip to the museum to walk around. Certainly, not a day spent locked down in a hotel room twiddling your thumbs… but then Morpheus had said that the hell beasts were prowling the streets for you and you had decided to not be pigheaded and just listen to him for once. He had been well surprised at your lack of resistance. There had been no mention of what transpired between you in your dream last night, or the fact that he could very well have just let you toss and turn all night. Matthew had certainly been suspicious this morning when neither you nor Morpheus dug quips at each other.

According to Mathew, he and Morpheus were going to be meeting up with a woman named Johanna Constantine to retrieve the magical sand. To relieve yourself from the great boredom that was sure to come, you had taken to the tele, randomly flipping through channels to entertain yourself. Cooking channel… Discovery… MTV… did anyone actually watch MTV anymore?

“Probably not…” You murmured, clicking the remote once more. You perked up. “Dr. Who reruns? Absolutely.”

Getting yourself comfortable on the couch, you settled into the marathon and let your thoughts drift away from recent events. While your eyes soaked in the tele, your fingers absentmindedly played around with the ruby hanging from your neck. You could feel the soft hum of energy from it, most likely whatever magic Morpheus had put into it. When the day bled into the afternoon, you started nodding off. Dozing where you sat, the sounds from the tele lulled your mind into a gentle nap. Fingers brushed through your hair, stroking through your strands in a repetitive way that reminded you of how a mother would stroke her child’s hair to put them to sleep. You sighed. Then your mind finally remembered that you were supposed to be watching the tele, alone.

Your eyes flew open and you were jerking to your feet with a startled yelp. You weren’t in the hotel room, on the couch, watching Dr. Who reruns anymore. You weren’t even sure you were in London, for that matter. With your heart thundering in your throat, your wild eyes darted around to see red, everywhere. You didn’t recognize anything. Then your eyes darted back to the being in front of you, the one you had been curled up against. Electric golden eyes glittered at you as painted lips curved into a devious smirk, the fingers that had been running through your hair, curled.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” Their voice seductively drew out. A shiver ran up your spine at their predatory gaze. Their body then shifted on what you had been lying on, draping themself like a drowsy cat.

“Where am I and who are you?” You questioned, your voice trembling slightly. They looked offended and the tail that rose in the air behind them twitched.

“Big brother didn’t tell you about me? I’m hurt,” They purred out before rolling lazily onto their back. “I’m Desire, little pussycat. Put your little kitty claws away, I’m not here to hurt you.”

You couldn’t help but snort and roll your eyes. So this was Desire? They were living up to their personification to a T.

“I’ll keep my claws out, thank you very much.” You snipped, shifting on your feet. Desire pouted their lips at you.

“I’m not going to hurt you, little kitten, you are too far precious for that.” You said nothing and Desire let out a sigh. “Oh my brother is rubbing off on you already… then again, he would choose a little human such as yourself to be bound to him.” Desire chuckled, they rolled over and rose to their feet with the grace of a feline and prowled up to you, mischief glittering in their eyes. Their perfectly manicured nails reached out and brushed beneath your chin, lifting it ever so slightly. “But you are a little gem, aren’t you? I want to eat you up!”

“Is there a reason why you’ve brought me here?”

“I told you, I’m curious, you’ve certainly gotten my brother all spun up in your web. I don’t think I’ve seen him so wrapped up in a mortal in eons.” Desire chuckled and prowled a circle around you, drawing their fingertips across your body and making certain that where your clothing didn’t cover skin, to drag fingers against your flesh. It felt nice, surely, but a part of you felt you shouldn’t be receiving any form of physical affection such as this unless it came from Morpheus. Even that was a stretch as you barely tolerated each other. You shied away from their touch.

“I’m not going to try and understand what goes on in his mind.” You returned, trying to put some space between you. Desire pouted at your attempts and simply moved with you. They were toying with you, surely. “But I do know that he is territorial over what he considers his and me being here is crossing a line. I’m sure even you know that.”

Desire let out a frivolous laugh.

“Oh I know, but I do like stirring the pot. Dream is so easily riled up when you play around with what is his.” They were definitely doing this on purpose… and acting like a cat as well. You figured they cared little for the consequences of their actions and dwelled only on their desires. Then again… they were Desire. You shouldn’t be surprised. Desire slunk around you, stopping behind you and placing their hands on your shoulders before leaning forwards and pressing their lips against your neck.

“Is this just a game to you?” You questioned incredulously, squirming against the lips now roaming your skin, getting closer to your collarbone. Another chuckle but this time followed by teeth nipping hard enough at your skin that you were sure to have marks. You tried edging away, but this time arms snaked around your waist and pulled you back into Desire’s smooth chest. You yelped.

“Everything is a game, kitten,” Desire purred, licking at your skin. “It’s how we Endless entertain ourselves. Given your proximity to my brother, you should get used to it. You’re just another chess piece to us.” Their mouth had a torturous mind of its own, nipping and sucking at your skin as you squirmed and fidgeted in their hold. Wrong, this was entirely wrong. It felt wrong. You knew it was wrong. A blazing ripple of energy traveled up your spine and a surge of strength broke you free from Desire’s captivating spell.

Roughly jerking forwards, you broke free of their embrace and rounded on them like a viper, your eyes blazing to life. Desire didn’t even seem startled that you had broken free from their trance. In fact, their lips curved into a Cheshire smirk. They leaned their head back and laughed.

“My, my,” Desire purred out, maintaining the distance you had made. “Dream certainly put a fair share of his power within you, your eyes blaze just like his.” They brushed their perfectly manicured nails down their neck and chest. “You must be one special woman to have him this wrapped around your finger. I’m envious.”

“Enough of your games! Return me to where I belong before I really lose my temper!” You hissed at Desire. They laughed at you and lifted their hand in the air, curving their fingers.

“As you wish, my fierce kitten.” Desire purred, you felt an odd sensation run across your body. It was like shifting fabric was running across your skin, moving and shaping the clothes you wore. But your eyes didn’t dare stray from Desire’s glittering ones. They gave you one last chuckle and smile. “Enjoy my gift.”

Gift? What did they mean by gift?

You squeezed your eyes shut as the red domain of Desire shifted and morphed before disappearing. Nipping cold bit at your skin shortly before shards of frosty rain started pelting your skin. It was cold, so cold. Eyes snapping open, the first thing you saw was Morpheus and a woman you didn’t recognize staring at you. No, the woman wasn’t just looking, she was openly gawking at your body. Shivering in place, you dropped your chin and looked down at your body. Your eyes bulged.

“What the fuck is wrong with your sibling!” You cried out, your gaze sharply snapping up to Morpheus’s as your arms dove to cover your body.

Date Published: 9/30/22

Last Edit: 7/7/23

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#lord morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream the endless x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman netflix #dream of the endless #morpheus #dream the endless #the sandman

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unrequitedloveletter · 2 years

Note

you’re laying waste to halloween- give me a trope or an AU (soulmates, best friends to lovers, etc.) and a character, and I’ll write a fic for it that’ll be 1-8000 words in length. (you can let me know how long you want the fic to be, and if you want it on the longer side, the more specific you get about details and settings and specifics about the AU, the better!)

best friends to lovers with kaz?? maybe they grew up together and go through everything side by side and we just see their relationship grow deeper and deeper until their practically married

To The End- Kaz Brekker

Okay! Hi! First off, I'm so sorry that this took ages!! I wanted to have it written and out by Wednesday of last week but then my brain decided to nitpick the way that I'd written it by that time to high fucking hell. A storm hit late friday and we had a power outage as well, so I only had the chance to get this done at around 9:30 as of saturday, and it's being posted about three-ish hours later!! I hope that the length of this fic (a bit over 7000 words) makes up for how late this is :)

I did take it in a bit of a different direction than what you'd requested. and if you want me to rewrite, please go ahead and let me know, I'll definitely do so!

I do have Kaz and the reader touch in this fic, but that’s at the end of the fic and it’s after Kaz has worked on his touch aversion.

Fic type- fluff

Warnings- mentions of homelessness and a few mentions that the reader grew up homeless, depictions of alcohol and alcohol consumption, mentions of crimes such as arson and theft, and a mention of cheating, as well as a few mentions of water and the way that it behaves in relation to Kaz's trauma

SEVENTEEN

As Kaz’s gaze moved to the water, head inclined to it with his exhaustion, he couldn’t help but notice your footsteps. They were one of many sounds on the boat as the sun rose and people woke with the knowledge that the shores of Ketterdam were barely fifteen minutes off, but Kaz had been able to recognize your footsteps for eight years by that point. It was habitual, and at seventeen, there was no undoing it.

The heist you’d gotten back from was one that quite literally took a night and a morning. As the boat approached Ketterdam shores, there was forty-five minutes left to sunrise, at minimum. Everyone had slept through the day to compensate, and while Kaz had tried, he’d gotten four hours and called it a night.

“You were out here when I left,” you said as you joined him, standing on his left. You rested a cup of coffee onto the boat railing, and Kaz took it, the two of you moving like clockwork. “Tell me that you slept, Brekker. Even for a minute.”

“Four hours. More than I’ve gotten since we left.”

He looked at you, watching you shrug as he put the coffee mug on the railing. You took it, holding the warm mug as you spoke.

“I can’t judge,” you said. “Barely got enough of it myself, but I always get antsy on the returning trips. Trouble always awaits.” You took a sip of the coffee, placing it on the railing. Kaz took it, and when you moved, resting your back against the railing and allowing it to face the water, your eyes on his as you moved.

“Back in Ketterdam,” you said. “I’ve missed it here.” It’d been a long few weeks, to say the least of it. After the Ice Court, you’d pulled a heist in The Wandering Isle, having gotten the information through a contact you had there.

“We all have,” Kaz said. “You, especially, it seems. We’ll get the money upon our arrival?”

You glanced at shore, nodding as a grin pricked the edges of your lips. “I see the contact. They’re ready to make the exchange, if a bit antsy about it.”

“Fourteen million kruge on their person, I can imagine one would be a bit startled by it, especially so close to the Barrel,” Kaz answered. “Worth it haul, I would say. Especially when you consider the amount of jewelry, but never again will I travel so far as the Wandering Isle for a heist.”

You turned your gaze to him, smiling at him as you did. “You would,” you quipped, and damnit, you were right. For the right price, Kaz was entirely sure that he would be willing to go to any small corner of the world, even if it took him months to manage to get there.

The two of you stood, side by side, as the boat docked. Kaz finished his coffee, and shortly thereafter, the seven of you—yourself, plus Kaz, Inej, Nina, Matthias, Jesper, and Wylan—were off the boat. You shook hands with your contact, they bid a good day, and while the seven of you headed toward the Crow Club to split the rewards, your contact moved toward the warehouse district and Sixth Harbor, where a boat waited to take them to the Wandering Isle.

As you all arrived at the Crow Club, heading toward a booth at the back, greetings were tossed at you as Rotty clapped you on the shoulder, victorious smile on his face as he joined up.

“Alls well and good?” He asked.

“The heist went off with—” Nina stopped, scooting in next to you in the U-shaped booth. “Well, fewer hitches than the Ice Court.” Matthias followed Nina, then Jesper and Wylan. Inej and Kaz were the last ones in the booth, Kaz sitting at one end while you sat at the other.

“Well and good, Rotty,” you gave him a grin. “Seriously. Don’t worry too much about it.” With the words, Rotty walked away, heading into a loud conversation with a few of the club regulars.

“So, when’s the next job?” Jesper asked. Inej snorted.

“We’ve just gotten back,” she noted. Kaz watched as you waved a waiter over, ordering drinks and food for the table. “Are you so anxious to commit another international crime? Are the two we’ve managed in the past six months not enough?”

Jesper didn’t answer, merely pressing a kiss to Wylans head, purposefully ignoring the jab. Later, Nina and Inej sparked a conversation that took the attention of the whole table. When food and drinks came, the chatter only continued. There was so much of it, in fact, that it allowed you to slip away without it being noticed by anyone else.

Except for Kaz, of course. Kaz had known you eight years, and in those eight years, he’d made a habit out of noticing.

He let Inej know he’d see her, Nina, Matthias, Wylan and Jesper back at the Slat, leaving the briefcase in Inejs care before heading out, leaving through a back door and making sure his cane wasn’t heard as he walked. Nobody would notice someone they couldn’t hear, and having nobody aside from the Crows know that Kaz had left would be better for the club, anyway. Kaz’s presence was intimidating, one that most were terrified of, and when they assumed he was around, it kept the patrons of the club from cheating, or assuming that an employee wouldn’t notice and alert Kaz to it.

He let his cane be heard as he left the Crow Club, rounding the building and being careful to duck out of view from any windows. He checked the Slat, with no luck. He checked Wylan and Jespers place, not finding you there, either.

It hit him suddenly; he’d seen you leave the booth, not the building. He would’ve known if you’d left the building. As much as Kaz enjoyed your company, you had your predictable moments. Kaz could often count on you to be sitting on rooftops, enjoying the sounds of the wind as it blew past your ears.

He went into the Crow Club once more, making his way up to the roof, and—yeah. You stood, facing the direction of the breeze. Your back was to him.

Wordlessly, Kaz approached, standing to your right without saying anything. He didn’t object to look down, merely looked at the Ketterdam skyline from the vantage point provided by the roof.

“Hi,” you said after a moment. “I’m sorry I disappeared.”

“I found you, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you said. When Kaz turned his head to look at you, he saw that you were almost smiling. “You always manage to, Brekker. Have you started doubting yourself?”

“Eight years as your closest friend? This last one spent—well—” As your partner? As a couple? Kaz couldn’t figure out how to say it. “No. At this point, in regards to you, doubt is not a word in my vocabulary.”

You did smile that time.

“Good to know.”

Silence lapsed between you two, your eyes looking over the skyline of Ketterdam, dotted with buildings before giving way to the water, the shadowy outlines of boats as they docked and left the harbor. Sunset had started, dousing the sky in pastel blues, purples, yellows and oranges, and still, even as beautiful as it was, Kaz found that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you.

“Wonderful, isn’t it?” You asked, eyes still on the skyline.

“Yeah,” Kaz agreed, nodding even though you wouldn’t notice it.

“Seriously, Kaz. It’s fucking gorgeous,” you said. “I come up to the roof for this view, normally late enough that I go unnoticed, but it’s wonderful to have someone to share this with.”

Kaz nodded again, eyes still not having moved to the skyline. “It’s incredible, actually,” he said, eyes only watching your expression.

When you turned to look at him, Kaz quickly brought his eyes to the skyline, fighting off the urge to grin as he did. He could feel your eyes as you watched him, felt it as they moved to the ground and back to him again.

“I have to agree with your words,” you said after a moment. “Incredible really does describe this view perfectly.” But you were still staring at him, still watching his features as he watched the skyline, noticed boats as they came into Ketterdam or left it.

Silences between the two of you were comfortable. They’d always been comfortable, easy and not difficult like silences often were with others.

“We should get back inside,” Kaz said as the darkness took the sky over. “They’ve noticed our absences by now, I guarantee it.”

You gave him a grin, the two of you heading back into the Crow Club together as you did.

The following morning, Kaz woke to the sound of the rain. He pressed his head into the pillow, kept his eyes closed and took in the smell of coffee and the sound of your voice as you hummed an old Ravkan tune and it carried through his office, past the small archway leading to his room, and finally met his ears.

Kaz sat up, running a hand through his hair before grabbing his cane and moving throughout the room. First, to grab clothes and a towel, then to shower. Once he was done and dressed, his hair in the process of air drying, he found himself in his office.

“You’re in quite the chipper mood,” he noted as he watched you take the teabag out of the mug you’d plopped it into. You’d set the coffee on his desk, and when Kaz took a sip of it, he noted that it was almost cold. “What’s got you so giddy?”

“I guess I woke up on the right side of the worlds thinnest mattress,” you joked. Kaz leaned back in his chair, reviewing plans he’d worked on the night before, for a heist in the Zelver District. “I don’t know why I woke up like this. Maybe I’m just happy to be back? I genuinely don’t know.”

“Well, either way, we’ve got another job next week,” Kaz said. “Zelver District. Ten thousand.”

“Crew?”

“Us and the rest of the crows, as normal,” Kaz said. “Try to relax today.”

You took your mug with both hands, flinching as you registered the heat that the cup was radiating with the boiled water still inside it, though you didn’t adjust your grip. You merely set it on the windowsill and climbed up, taking it back into your hands and appreciating the warmth that spread to them as you did.

“Relaxing is my every intent,” you said. “How’d you sleep?”

“About as well as you, though for less time,” he took another sip of the coffee, resting the mug near the corner of his desk. “No major jobs til the next heist. We need to lay low for a bit.”

“I don’t hate the idea of that,” you said. “I’m content to stay in here and read for a bit, if you don’t mind?”

“I don’t,” Kaz said. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want, Y/N.”

“Thanks, love,” Kaz forced his gaze to the papers in front of him, the scrawls of the plan he’d set in motion early next week, executing it with you and the rest of the crows later on. He tried not to think of the nickname too much, of the implications that came with it, tried not to blush as he tried not to think.

Eventually, when the coffee you’d set out for him had been long made, your tea long drank and the mugs rinsed and set back onto the small table where they were kept, Kaz heard the sound of the downpour, falling asleep in his chair whilst you fell asleep sitting on the windowsill.

NINETEEN

“Hey,” You greeted as you walked up to Kaz. He passed you a tea as you passed him a coffee. You’d known each other for ten years by then. Ten years of knowing glances, of walking side by side, talking about everything and nothing all at once.

The pair of you walked back to the Crow Club, not talking at all. Ten years, Kaz noted. Ten years and the silences were still more comfortable than half the beds in the Slat.

You walked into the Crow Club, and it was like your attention had been commanded with your mere presence. You greeted several people with swift nods before yourself and Kaz found a table near the back, Kaz sitting his cane against the back of his chair.

You drank tea and listened to Kaz’s updates, telling him a few stories from your meeting with the triumvirate in Ravka in regards to a jewel heist. You told Kaz all that they’d told you to relay to him, and he told himself he would work on it later, knowing himself well enough to know that he’d remember every single detail you’d offered.

When Jesper, Wylan, Inej, Matthias and Nina joined you, pulling up chairs and ordering waffles, Jesper and Nina were grinning.

“So?” Nina asked.

“Next fall,” you said. “Fifty-six thousand kruge. Not much, but a lot, when considering it’s coming out of the pocket of a country that’s long been in debt.”

“They’re pulling themselves out, bit by bit,” Jesper said. “Paying back their loans. Ravka is getting back on it’s feet.”

“Nikolai assumes they’ll be out of debt completely within the next two decades,” you said. “Seems like a long time, but it’s really not, all things considered. Two decades to get out of debt they’ve been drowning in for more than two generations? I would’ve assumed they had it done before any of us hit thirty.”

“Anything from Kuwei?”

“He’s well,” you said. “Apparently he’s dating a Tidemaker who he met while on a mission in the Wandering Isle. I don’t really know, he spoke rather quickly, as he was trying to get to Davids quarters to offer an assist with something relating to fire.”

“Good on him, then,” Jesper said.

Nina ordered waters, popping a toffee into her mouth as the waiter walked off. When the waters came, you all thanked the waiter. Kaz watched you ignore the flirtations directed at you, felt anger come up from somewhere within him, though he quickly repressed it.

“So, next fall?”

“Fifty six thousand?”

“Who’s on the crew?”

“Everyone here,” you said, gesturing around the table. “Annika could be a very wise addition to the team for this one, but whether or not we’ll ask her onto the team is something that Kaz and I have yet to discuss.”

“Making decisions as a team now?”

“We’ve been doing it this way on all major jobs?” Kaz found himself stating. “The Ice Court, the heist in the Zelver District—”

“Oh, you mean the one that almost resulted in seven arrests?”

“Don’t act as though we didn’t make it away in time, Jes,” you said. “There’s a reason that you said almost. We made it out in time, evaded the stadwatch, and here we are.”

“Well, even so, it’s neat,” Nina said, giving you and Kaz both a smile. “I never thought that Kaz would have it in him to consult anyone else. It’s wonderful to know that such a skill exists in his arsenal.”

“I mean, in fairness, they’re not just his partner, they’re his best friend,” Wylan offered. “It makes sense that he’d go to them for a second opinion.”

You took a sip of your water, and Kaz watched you lean back in your chair, content to let a conversation take the table over. You loved your contented silences, he knew. You met his gaze, and for a moment, a small, almost nonexistent moment in time, Kaz wished he had the strength to reach across the table and take your hand in his.

The game he played with his touch aversion was a game of give and take. It was good days, bad days, days wherein there was simply nothing, an oddball-ish kind of in between wherein nothing took steps forwards or backwards, merely just stayed in place, caught in something like a stand still.

“I was thinking about going to Ravka before the next big thing,” you said. Kaz had known Ravka was on your mind. You’d needed something of a break, to put it simply. A break from heists, from crime. You’d needed time to lay on a bed that was better than just half decent. Since you’d mentioned it, Kaz had been debating going with you, leaving the Slat and the Crow Club in the care of either Inej or Annika. “Take a bit of a rest.”

“Ravka is always lovely in October,” it was close to fall. August was coming to an end.

“Leaving the Slat in the hands of Annika for a bit?” Jesper asked.

“That’s currently up for internal debate,” Kaz said. “Weighing it out, but if you can’t find me by this time two months from now, you know why.” Jesper cheers’d his glass against Kaz’s, grinning as he did.

“You really do look like you could use a bit of a vacation,” Nina said. “Maybe use the time to get a proper haircut, hm?”

Kaz merely offered a shrug as he brought the glass of water to his lips, meeting Ninas gaze as he did.

“Never.”

Nina laughed, leaning back in her chair, and Kaz’s gaze drifted back to you.

You met his gaze, offered him a grin, silently cheers’d your glass against his. Kaz watched you become enveloped in the conversation, content to remain quiet as he did.

“There’s something odd about the two of you,” Nina was saying to you a few weeks later. The two of you were walking along Sixth Harbor, having finished a job in the warehouse district and on the way to fifth, where you’d rejoin Kaz and Matthias for the last part of the job before you and Kaz headed off on a boat to Ravka, where you’d relax and see the sights for the following two weeks. “I mean—not odd, necessarily. Everything about the two of you makes a plenty good bit of sense, but—” she stopped herself.

“But?”

“I’m a Heartrender,” she said. “I register heartbeats around me, oftentimes without meaning to. Every heartbeat is unique, a sound similar to the others but also distinctly different. Kaz’s heartbeat is loud. It’s always been loud, and the one thing I’ve noticed with him, is that the second he looks at you, it gets faster than I’ve ever heard it. Even if it’s for a moment in time, a split second glance that nobody notices, the two beats that happen while he watches you are quicker than the two before and the two after. It happens every single time, too. Always.”

You looked at the ground, feeling your cheeks grow warm as you heard Ninas words.

“Your heartbeat does, too,” Nina continued. “I noticed it when I’d first met you and Kaz when we were sixteen. You’d been standing a few feet away, but every time you’d look at him, your heart would start racing in an instant. I don’t know if you were in love with him then, but if you weren’t and if I was wrong, my ears have certainly fooled me.”

You crossed into Fifth Harbor as she spoke, and as you did, you caught sight of Kaz and Matthias. They were both standing, eyes on the harbor as they engaged in conversation.

“There it goes again,” Nina said, laughing slightly. She draped an arm over your shoulders, grinning as you finally registered your own heartbeat. Nina had been correct, your heart was going fifty miles a minute. She watched Kaz turn his head, meeting your gaze in the process.

“And, there goes his!” she said, laughing a bit more. “Lovesick idiots, the two of you are.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding. As you approached, Kaz and Matthias moved to meet you halfway.

As you looked at Kaz, you couldn’t help but grin, because Nina was right.

Fuck, did you love Kaz Brekker.

TWENTY-ONE

Fall in Ketterdam was always cold. Over time, yourself and Kaz had grown to call it pre-winter rather than fall, as the closer winter drew, the colder Ketterdam got. By the end of October, temperatures dropped to the negatives at least once every few weeks, often finding a spot in the colder side of the middle ground.

As Kaz walked into the Crow Club, cup of tea in hand, he placed it on the table at which you sat, meeting with a member of the Black Tips to negotiate the ownership of a building before it escalated to the point of a war. He didn’t look at you as he joined Inej at the table she’d chosen, though he knew you were due to join them any minute. A bit of guesswork and bluffing on your part would have the Black Tips allowing the building to come into complete Dregs ownership, and within days, the building would be ready to open.

“How’re things going with the meet?” Inej asked as Kaz sat down.

“Seemed like it was going well, but we’ll find out in a matter of minutes,” Kaz said.

“Have they told you what they want to do with the building yet?”

“They’re turning it into a cheap diner for Barrel residents only,” Kaz said. “ID needs to be provided in order to eat there, unless someone living on the streets is brought in, and the cooks are required to make extra so as to have enough to feed a few of the people living on the streets throughout the city.”

“An anti-tourist establishment?” Inej asked. “That’s incredible.”

Kaz merely shrugged at that. “They lived on the streets once,” he said. “They don’t want to become a landlord, though, so this was the next best thing. For Barrel residents, no meal costs more than five kruge, and the homeless get them for free. They’ve set up an initiative, too. They’re buying out a few of the old warehouses in the warehouse district and paying the people on the streets to help get them fixed up. The Merchant Council is regarding them as one would regard a criminal less and less these days. I read recently that more jobs have opened up in the financial district and they’re paying for transportation there from the Barrel. More rooms in the Slat have opened up, and we’re letting people in until they can get on their feet without being a member of the Dregs being on that list of requirements. All per my loves request, of course.”

“Ninas right about you, you lovesick fool,” Inej said teasingly. “It’s nice, though. I didn’t think you the type to be capable of being lovesick for anyone.”

“I’m not lovesick,” Kaz denied. “It’s a smart business plan, and if any of them decide they don’t like working for the banks or the merchants or whoever they end up working for, there’re jobs open most everywhere in the Barrel and the Zelver District. It just depends on which gangs territory they work in.”

Inej just gave Kaz a grin as you approached the table, sitting down next to Kaz as you sipped your tea, a victorious kind of glint in your eyes.

“The property is mine, Geels will be dead by tonight, and everything is already set in motion.”

“What information did you get on him?”

“Geels is having an affair with the girlfriend of the guy I met, something I found out this morning. I let him know and he gave me the property in a second before thanking me for telling him. I did it out of obligation. I don’t care if they’re a rival gang, nobody gets to cheat and get away with it.”

“Geels will come after you for that.”

“If he’s smart, he’ll do the opposite,” you said. “He’ll crawl into some hole in the world and never come out of it again.”

“If he doesn’t do such, I’ve got your six,” Kaz said. You grinned, meeting his gaze as he spoke, and Kaz felt his heartbeat grow a bit quicker, like Nina had often teased him about.

“For that, I have no doubt,” you said. “You’ve always had my six, and I’ll always have yours. To the end, Brekker.”

“To the end,” he responded, standing up as he spoke the words. “I have to meet with a member of the Merchant council in relation to a contract, and I’ll be late if I’m not heading out now. No mourners.”

“No funerals.” With the words, Kaz turned and walked out of the Crow Club

Kaz came home with a slight grin on his face, and it only widened as he saw you.

“Hi,” he said. You were standing, back pressed against the wall as you read through some plans for a heist that was to happen the following week. “The deal is in for the property that you’re turning into a shelter. Eliot Vales son is working for you, so he didn’t need any convincing. Pretty much just asked me to pull out the contract and a pen, signed it, and then treated me to a glass of wine and a few bottles from his personal cellar as a thanks for all the help you’ve given his son.”

“Eliot Vale is the guy you were meeting with?” You asked, eyes turning from the paper. “Goodness! I could’ve gone to that meeting with you, love. Will asked me to send along a happy update to his father.”

“Send along a letter,” Kaz suggested. “I’ll be able to help you fix up the drywall in the building over the weekend. The restaurant opens when?”

“The beginning of November, so long as I can get it in shape by then,” you said. “Provided that I work on the shelter just as much, it’s likely that they’ll open on the same day.”

“And the warehouse project?”

“It’s going a lot better than I expected,” you said. “I’ve met with the council and asked them to give me a hundred thousand to contribute to the wages of the people I’ve hired. I think it was because of Eliot that my request was approved.”

“You really are too good for this place,” Kaz said. You leaned over and tapped the papers against the desk, straightening them so that they made a neat pile, before placing them back into the binder you’d taken them from and closing the rungs.

“I love the life I live now,” you said. “I love doing what I do. Petty crimes, arson, theft, all of it, yeah. It’s among my favorite things about living here, but I grew up where so many others are now, on the streets. I hate seeing so many people going through the same. They need help, and I don’t care how many items I’ve stolen, how many places I’ve set on fire. If nobody on the Council will give it to them, I will. I don’t even care that they’re giving me the money I need to increase the wages a bit. They wouldn’t be doing so if Eliot had never been introduced to the council, if it wasn’t him to take Van Ecks place.”

Your dedication was more than impressive. It was admirable.

“Kaz, you understand it, too, right? I can’t keep letting them sweep the homeless under the rug like it’s nothing. I refuse to do so.”

“I get it,” Kaz nodded. “I kill for a cause, you live for one. We’re opposites that way.”

You nodded, the truth to the words settling in the quiet of the room.

TWENTY-THREE

You laughed a bit as you corrected another person who’d greeted you upon your entrance into the Crow Club. You sat next to Kaz, who’d been on one end of the U-Shaped booth, with you on the other, Matthias, Jesper, Wylan, Inej and Nina sat between the two of you.

“The marriage rumor has gotten too far out of hand,” you spoke as you sat. Nina slid you the brandy she’d ordered for you, and you took a sip, enjoying the way that the sweet bitterness slid down your throat. “I’ve been addressed as Mx. Brekker nine times today! I’m being referred to as such in letters from the bloody Ravkan king!”

“Are we due in for another heist down there?” Jesper asked. “Been a bit since the last one, hasn’t it?”

“Something about a dress of jewels or something?—it’s a long story, Kaz and I will explain it when he’s sent along more context,” you said. “I’m at the point wherein I’m completely ready to stop correcting people.”

“You two are common law at this point,” Wylan said pointedly. “Ketterdam law says that a couple is in a common law marriage if they’ve lived together more than two years, and you two have shared the third floor for three years now.”

“If that means I can’t correct people anymore, I’m fine with it,” you said. “I’m too sick of having to do so to continue on, anyway. If Kaz is fine with it, so am I.”

Kaz shrugged. “I don’t mind,” he said.

“How’re things with the shelter?”

“They’re going incredibly. There’s fifty occupants now, where there used to be ten times as many. Zoya mentioned putting one in Ravka with my assistance on the project, and I wrote to her recently to see about creating a space for Grisha who’re on the run from angry slavers, setting up something at Fifth Harbor to direct them to Ravka. I told her I’d need her help with that, and I was hoping to get you on the project?” You turned to Nina, who was beaming.

“Yeah,” she said. “Always happy to help the cause. Anything you need.”

“Repairs need to be made at the restaurant, right?”

“A few minor things. The storm we had last week blew through a few windows that never got closed. I’m installing the lights and fixing up some patchy drywall this week,” you said. “I’ll close the diner for a night or two, deep clean it and give it a fresh coat of paint like it deserves.”

“I can install the lights,” Matthias offered.

“Wylan and I can help with the painting and Kaz can definitely sweep a floor or two.” Jesper offered.

“Inej and I will come around to keep you lot company,”

You grinned. “That sounds wonderful. Thanks, guys.”

“We love you, Y/N,” Nina said.

“Yeah,” Inej added. “We do love you, a bloody lot, especially Kaz.”

“Any from Will?” Kaz asked.

“A letter,” you said. “He’s in Ravka working with the royals for now. He’s just been promoted to communications liaison between Ravka, Ketterdam, Shu Han, Fjerda, Novyi Zem and The Wandering Isle. His boyfriend recently proposed to him, and they’ve bought a place close to the palaces with some of the money Will had been setting aside when he got his paychecks. I promised we’d pop in for a visit whenever it was we next found ourselves there, so around the time of the next heist.” With the words, you stood, giving Kaz a grin as you walked out, heading to the diner to make a list of all that needed fixing as a result of the storm.

By midnight, something of a miracle had happened. The walls had been painted, the floors swept and then mopped. Lights to replace the broken ones had been twisted into their sockets. The counters had been wiped down, the ovens and stovetops cleaned and then cleaned again to be sure that no dirt had been left behind. Cabinets had been dusted and wiped down.

As Kaz looked at the time, he realized it was just after midnight. Matthias hauled in another bag of flour as you put a lid on a container full of it. Matthias opened the bag as you grabbed the last container, pouring the flour into it. Matthias passed the bag to Kaz once it was emptied, who put it into a bin and placed the filled container into the cabinet where the flour was kept.

The seven of you walked out of your restaurant, heading to the Barrel with relative silence, at first.

Then, the rain, on a relatively clear night in Ketterdam, began. At once, everyone turned to look at one another, yours and Kaz’s gaze meeting while Ninas gaze met Inej and Matthias, Jespers gaze met Wylans.

“I hate Ketterdam,” Matthias said.

“I love it,” you said. “I met Kaz when the weather was like this. I’ve loved it as long as I can really bother to remember.”

“Meeting Kaz is as far back as you can bother to remember anything?” Matthias asked. You shrugged, bare hand brushing against Kaz’s as you stepped forward, face tilting toward the sky as your arms extended. Kaz paused, expecting the water to start rushing toward his ankles, only to find that it did, for a single moment.

“Shit, sorry!” You said, meeting Kaz’s gaze.

He shook his head, waiting still for the water to react. “It was an accident. You’re fine, Y/N.”

For a single moment, the water rose.

But then? After that?

The water receded.

It stopped.

You tilted your head to the sky, and, almost completely infatuated, Kaz watched.

“When I met him, I went through a bit of a butterfly effect. Seeing him and his brother as they walked past me on the way to meet someone, it got me right here. I’m grateful for that, so yeah. Meeting Kaz Brekker is, in fact, as far back as I can be bothered to remember.”

Kaz gave you a grin, feeling his heart grow lighter.

You were the love of his life.

Well, and truly, you were.

TWENTY-FIVE

Kaz swallowed thickly as his fingertips met yours. He watched your hand, watched his own, as he willed the waters to a distance, moved his fingertips down until suddenly, your palm was against his. He could grab your wrist if he moved just a bit more, hold your hand just as some part of him had been wanting to for eight years.

“Saints,” he said, unable to think of anything else to say. He moved his hand, grabbed your wrist lightly. When he looked up, feeling the burn of your gaze, he just nodded, and slowly, carefully, you did the same.

“Saints indeed,” you said.

Kaz stared, almost unable to believe it.

He’d started working on his touch aversion shortly after the last Ravkan heist, and it’d taken him two years to get to that, a lot of trial and error, steps forward and backward, giving and taking. It was a gut wrenching, sometimes painful process, but as he held your wrist, felt the cool feeling of the ring on your finger against his own, he wasn’t in pain.

For the first time in a long time, the touch wasn’t making him want to vomit, wasn’t reeling in the waters, flooding every single one of his senses like it so often did. He could only stare, shocked, unsure of what to do next.

“Where do we go from here?”

“I’ll make that the choice of the one with the touch aversion,” you said. Kaz held your wrist for another minute. Maybe it was two, maybe three or even five, but still, somehow, it felt like it’d been bare seconds.

He let go of your hand, willed himself to look at you, really look at you.

You looked genuinely thrilled.

“Hi,” he said, almost breathless.

“Hey,” you grinned.

Kaz, completely unsure whether he was making the right call, lifted a hand to your face, cupping the side of it. He waited for the water, waited for it to flood and pool at his ankles as it always seemed to, ruining even the moments that felt more than perfect.

“This is terrifying,” Kaz said. “I love it.”

“I love you, Brekker,” you said.

“I love you too,” he responded.

That night was the same as many other nights were. It always started with Kaz trying to hold your wrist, trying to get used to letting you hold his. Some nights, Kaz couldn’t even stand the way that your fingertips felt against his own, sometimes he needed to break when your palms met, other times he just couldn’t do It, but more and more, it seemed, you progressed passed that. Kaz felt ready to try something different, something more.

And then, much like it always had to, the water pooled in, and like clockwork, you let go of Kaz’s wrist and when he let go of yours, you stepped back, went through the bedroom to the office, got started on a coffee while Kaz gripped his cane, got the waters back to bay. You passed him the coffee, holding the mug by the handle where Kaz grabbed the body, the both of you operating carefully so as to make sure there was no accidental brushing of hands.

Kaz would apologize. You would tell him he didn’t need to, that you understood and were okay with things as they were. Kaz hated himself those nights, hated to think that you’d grown used to the fact that, up to that point, Kaz had only ever been capable of loving you from a distance, loving you with his back pressed against walls and doorways.

Inej, and Kaz had been walking through the Barrel, heading back to the Slat. “Are the rumors true?” Inej had asked at some point. “Y/N with a ring spotted on their finger and again with one on a chain while they bartended. You, with a piece of silver around your neck, one that many think has a ring attached to it?”

“It happened at the start of September,” Kaz said. “I should’ve told you, I know.”

“You could’ve written, but I understand why it slipped your mind,” Inej said. “Proposals, engagements, in our respective lines of work? There often isn’t time to celebrate them.”

“Please, Inej,” Kaz said as he registered that glint in her eye. “Don’t tell me you planned a party.”

“Nina did,” she said. “And, even then, it’s not a party. It’s dinner at the Crow Club to celebrate.”

“Thank the saints, then.”

“Don’t start hitting me with that bullshit,” Inej said. “I had to talk Nina down from a party in one of the most extravagant spots in the Financial District. You’re lucky I even managed that, but I do have the capability to be pushed towards wanting to tell her you’ve changed your mind.”

“I will pay you a thousand kruge to do the opposite.”

Inej laughed, and Kaz didn’t fight his smile.

“You’ve changed quite a bit in the past eight years,” Inej said a while later, when the Slat had been maybe eighty more steps off. “For the better, of course. I like this version of you.”

“I’m still who I was,” Kaz said.

“People have seen you and Y/N in the past few months, hands interlaced as you talked and walked about the streets,” Inej said. “I’m not saying that you’re not the same murderous criminal that you’ve always been, Brekker. If anything, I actually think you’ve gotten more prone to violence in these past few months. I’m saying that you’re not the same person you were when your relationship had just begun. I’m saying that you’ve become a better person because of them.”

“I love them wholeheartedly,” it was the first time that Kaz had allowed any kind of a statement to be said to anyone except for you. “I became a better man because I needed to. They just gave me a reason to want to do it, and I’m grateful for that.”

“You should be,” Inej said. “You should let them know as much, anyway.”

“I’m grateful for you too, Mrs. Ghafa,” nine years of friendship, of unexpected camaraderie, and that was where the two of them ended up. Talking as they walked to the Slat, preparing for another heist like so many others they’d done before. “Seriously. Thank you.”

“Any time, Kaz,” she said. “C’mon. I have to get into an argument with Jesper, Nina, Wylan and Matthias about who’s officiating the wedding.” Kaz looked at the ground as he smiled to himself.

He’d done it. He’d proposed. He’d proposed and you two were going to get married at a date you’d not yet decided, though you’d both agreed it had to be at some point throughout October.

As Kaz walked into the Slat, such knowledge was almost mystifying. He’d gotten himself exactly where he’d hoped, but simultaneously never expected to be,

TWENTY-SEVEN

Kaz’s bare hand cupped your face, the touch almost feather light, but you knew he was there. You could feel it, feel his skin against yours. When his thumb glided along your cheek, you felt lighter than a fucking feather.

His hand had been there, in that same spot, for maybe ten minutes, one hand against your waist, his gaze unwavering.

It was funny, really. Every time you looked at Kaz, you were almost convinced he was factory made, nothing more than a severely attractive robot who’d been sent to Ketterdam to commit crime and brood. It just seemed like there was no way for someone so attractive to be allowed to exist.

“I wonder often how I got so lucky as to meet you,” you said. “I don’t understand it, Brekker. I never have, and I think I’m alarmingly content with the fact that I probably never will.”

“I often think the same thing,” Kaz said. “I look at myself, knowing all that I’ve killed, everything that I’ve sacrificed for the utmost selfish reasons, and I get confused as to why I was allowed to have you still be apart of my life. I wondered it after my first kill, when we first joined the Dregs, when you almost died in the Ice Court.”

He took another step forward, pressed his forehead against yours, watching as your eyes closed before he closed his own, and waited for the water.

It seemed, though, on that day, the water would not make an appearance.

It seemed that Kaz had negotiated a sort of peace with it, at least for that moment. The water had long grown sick of the games they played together, had given Kaz at least a day of happiness, one wherein he made more progress than the day before and allowed himself to enjoy it.

“I wonder often why the universe allowed me someone so good,” he said. “I have spent many nights thinking that I don’t deserve you, Y/N. Not for all that I am, all that I have been.”

His words were met with silence, and for that, he was glad. He was sure he wouldn’t know how to respond had you said something in turn.

“Loving you has been the greatest thing that I’ve had the privilege of happening to me,” Kaz said. “I love you wholeheartedly, Y/N. I always have, and I know that I always will.”

“I would love you in death,” you said.

Kaz opened his eyes, separated only an inch from you. Your eyes opened shortly thereafter and your gazes met. Kaz was overwhelmingly in love with you. He’d been overwhelmingly in love as long as he could care to remember.

“I catch myself wondering how a man so beautiful as you are is allowed to exist from time to time.” Kaz laughed.

“I am not beautiful,” he said.

“You’re saintly.”

“This, coming from the one who is often the most ethereal person in the room?”

“Often?” You asked.

“Always,” Kaz laughed. “Always the most ethereal person in the room, love. I apologize for my having misspoken.”

“I love you, Mr. Brekker.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” Kaz said, allowing his eyes to close. He paused, took a deep breath in and grounded himself a bit. “To the end.”

Kaz had never felt so content, as when he stood there with you, hand holding yours as yours was against his face, arm wrapped around your waist and forehead pressed to yours.

Often, outside of moments like that, ones where the water had receded and allowed him moments wherein he was so content he thought he was going to melt, he still had to lean his back against walls and doorways, still had to cast loving glances from a bit further of a distance.

There was a difference, though. Two years earlier, when Inej had said he’d changed, she’d been right. She’d absolutely been correct, as she most often was, it was just that Kaz had changed in more than the ways she’d described.

At seventeen, though he’d been in a relationship with you, there was still the thought in his mind that love was a weakness, one that could get someone killed, one that could result in a terrible kind of heartbreak.

At twenty-seven, married to you and more than happy in such marriage, he knew that his beliefs on love had changed completely, for at twenty-seven, he did not view love as weakness. He rather thought it the smart option to view it as strength.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #shadow and bone

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itsclydebitches · 1 year

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RWBY Recaps: Volume 9 "A Place of Particular Concern"

Happy start of a new Volume, everyone! 🎉

Shaving off a little more than a month, it’s been two years since I was writing a RWBY Recap. Is that long enough to count as nostalgic? Definitely long enough to inspire a minor existential crisis on the passage of time, so how about we just collectively pretend it’s still 2013, yeah?

Of course, that would mean we were watching RWBY on YouTube and RT’s website, not... Crunchyroll. Listen, I’ll be real with you all and admit I know incredibly little about the site’s sketchy history which, from what I’ve gleaned lately, has led to a number of RWBY fans boycotting its use. Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum. However, I noted the two week free trial and decided to give that a go first, if only to make my life a little easier for the premiere. I’d planned to either shell out the 24-ish dollars necessary to watch the other eight episodes - which, honestly, isn’t much in the grand scheme of things, especially if we factor in my Starbucks addiction... - or don my parrot and eye-patch once I hit that two week mark.

So there was a plan!

This plan was a mistake.

I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that writing, “Wow, Crunchyroll’s website doesn’t work very well, does it?” maybe isn’t news to anyone else? I read that the new episode was supposed to drop at 9:30am. I then tried unsuccessfully to get it to load through 4:00pm. During this, while trying various avenues in the hopes of getting this video started, I noticed a Google link with a four hour timestamp, which would have put the release at around 11:00 my time, closer to what we’re used to.

Regardless of when it actually dropped, I was finally able to start watching at around 4:00pm. By which I mean I watched the first 17 seconds of the episode. Then it froze. I made it to the minute mark using a different browser. Then it froze again. I let things sit for a while and finally restarted my original vid, completing the episode without any additional problems, but by then I was more than a little frustrated.

Was it my internet? Crunchyroll? The will of the RWBY gods who don’t want me critiquing the hell out of this episode? Who can say, but I think I’ll be hoisting the flag sooner than intended.

“This is the story of a girl who had a lot of problems.”

If you’re thinking that this line sounds at all familiar, it’s because we’ve heard it before. Actually, the entirety of the first seven minutes is made up of our promo clips which, in a fourteen minute episode without opening and credits, is a lot. RWBY has been gone (in its canon state, anyway) for two years. I can’t speak for anyone else, but my impression of the Ruby PoV clip was that it was purely promotional material, not the start of our far-off Volume. So it was more than a little disappointing to finally get my hands on new content only to realize that half of it wasn’t new at all. We’d already seen it, discussed it, dissected it weeks, or even months ago. Combined with how much of our starter material was in our trailer (two emotional shots of Ruby I’ll be unpacking later) and how much the fandom was able to easily infer (Weiss and Blake are captured while trying to retrieve her weapon) it almost didn’t feel like a RWBY premiere at all. There is, almost literally, nothing new for the fandom to sink their teeth into. We knew they were in this Ever After place, we knew the basic plot of the first couple of episodes, we’ve seen glimpses of all the side characters... I’d actually argue that there’s more to analyze in the opening than the totality of our first episode.

Not that that's going to stop me from writing a shit ton about it, you know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

None of which bodes well and, frankly, this episode is enough of a mess that I can’t even take solace in RT executing the repetition well. Thus, I’m going to move fairly quickly (for me lol) through the first half of the episode, if only because I’ve already given my thoughts on it in other posts. So to recap within the recap:

Yang’s fall into the void and the ways in which this moment differs from the original animation is still a sore spot for me, especially given how the characters react (or rather, don’t) to finding her alive. While I commend RT for trying something different by giving us Ruby’s PoV, Lindsay’s acting grates here and the constant whimpers/gasps just highlight how much Ruby didn’t emote in the original version of the scene. Likewise, the halo of white around Ruby’s vision prior to falling proves that the writers were very aware of her silver eyes in that moment, yet inexplicably decided not to use them. As we’re seeing more and more lately, characters loose all their powers and strategic thinking the moment something needs to happen for the plot. Why craft a legitimate failure for the heroes when you could simply have them forget that their longest-running villain is in the city with them, or have Yang repeat a major mistake she’s supposedly outgrown, or have Ruby not use the one, unique ability that would save her from certain death?

As said, we know this old tune.

A detail I don't think I picked up on the first time around though is that Ruby is reaching desperately for Blake when they fall... and Blake just isn’t paying her any mind lol.

I mean I get it. Of course she’d be looking towards the villains/the bridges that represent safety, but given the non-relationship between Ruby and Blake, it struck me as funny that even when they’re “dying” together Blake barely seems to register Ruby’s presence. ‘I really look up to you!’ Yeah. Sure you do.

Ruby floats through the orange orbs of the void and, given that they show up in our opening, I hope we receive an explanation for what they are exactly. Perhaps the souls of other people who have fallen? Idk, I'm reaching. Neo shows up and fights in various disguises, blah blah blah. Ruby wakes on the beach to someone calling her name.

I feel like I asked this the first time around, but is anyone confident on whose voice that is? It almost sounds like Ruby’s own to me - perhaps heralding the split we saw in the trailer - but it could also be a repeat of Yang’s when she saved her? Honestly though, that second option feels too emotionally nuanced for what we got in the rest of this episode.

Right now, I’m inclined to ignore the voice until something actually comes of it. RWBY history has taught me that such minor mysteries may not last past the twenty minute mark.

As we saw in the released clip, we're immediately given some details of this strange land, including giant flora and twin suns. That’s... pretty tame. I’m of the opinion that if you’re going to do an Alice in Wonderland-inspired story, you’ve got two routes you can follow. The first (and for more satisfying option, I think) is to study the ways in which the original story functioned as a metaphor for the life of a child navigating an adult world and, similarly, use the weirdness of this land to impart some message. The second option (far easier, but still entertaining) is to really lean into the oddities, captivating your audience through the sheer WTF-ness of what you’ve put on screen, even if the strangeness isn’t actually representative of anything other than a "Well damn, that was weird" reaction.

Sadly, RWBY’s “A Place of Particular Concern” doesn’t seem to be achieving either. I mentioned when the trailer dropped that I don’t trust the story to say anything meaningful via its environments, but nor are the environments spectacular enough to engage us through novelty alone. Don’t get me wrong, I think the animators have achieved an impressive feat here, especially given the constraints and terrible working conditions we know they’ve faced before, but the oddness of the Ever After is mediocre at best. Oh look, small things like shells are now big. Real birds like the Dodo now come in flashier colors. A mouse talks!

...in a story where a main character is a cat girl.

Just like RWBY failed to distinguish how magic was different - and, ultimately, more shocking - than semblances, it’s now failing to inspire that sense of awe when our characters already hail from a pretty odd world. Sure, this is a different kind of odd, but the switch lacks any real punch. Compare RWBY’s Remnant/Ever After to Alice’s Normal World/Wonderland. She doesn’t have things like faunus and grimm, so something as relatively simple as a cat smiling unnerves her (and the reader). She doesn’t just see a slightly off bird, she finds out you now use them to play croquet. And she’s at the center of every oddity, experiencing these changes first-hand. Ruby sees a giant shell for a single shot. Alice becomes a giant and deals with the social horror of filling up someone’s house. I knew this was going to be a problem back when our clip dropped because despite being a separate realm supposedly governed by its own rules, we’ve still got a mouse terrified of cats. There’s this implication that the Ever After is oh so strange and horrifyingly unfamiliar... but then we immediately turn around and learn, no wait, most of what Ruby is encountering is familiar. At least enough to get by.

Ruby: “I should have known! I’ve seen plenty of cartoons!”

Volume 9 is playing it super safe with the Wonderland references and it’s really disheartening. If RWBY doesn’t have anything to say via this weirdness, I would have at least liked to see something truly weird.

To get back to the plot, Ruby immediately starts walking into the jungle and I - true story - groaned at the screen. Despite knowing it was coming! Because how can you have a character go through everything Ruby just did and not provide some reflection on it? This girl wakes up in a fantasy world after The Most Traumatic Fight Ever and waltzes off like an automaton following a coded directive. Where’s the shocked examination of her surroundings? Where’s the horrified, “Where am I? Did I die?” questioning? Where’s the post-fight panic where she desperately shouts for her teammates, begging someone to answer her? I literally can’t think of another instance in which a character goes through that much and then, literally, walks it off.

Later in the episode Ruby will inform Weiss and Blake that she spotted an overhang on the cliff and decided to try and get up there so she could survey her surroundings. It sure would have been nice to know about that while she was wandering. During the actual act of her travel I had no idea what Ruby was trying to accomplish other than, in true RWBY fashion, what I assumed was her most logical goal(s) - like finding her teammates. The kicker is that there are a ton of easy ways to keep the viewer informed despite lacking voice-overs. Let Ruby talk to herself as a way to self-sooth. Or use Little as a sounding board (why else is this mouse even here...) Show us a shot of Ruby spotting her target, taking a deep, fortifying breath, and going, “Okay... you can do this. Just make it to the cliff. One step at a time," a goal that’s ruined once her steps start going in circles. You can add a bit of character work by having Ruby remember Tai and Qrow’s training: always get a sense of your surroundings first. You can setup Ruby’s (presumably) Volume-long depression by having her just lie in the sand for a while, the suns passing overhead, staring at them listlessly, only moving when the surf starts hitting her mouth. Hell, is anyone even carrying their scrolls anymore? I don’t care how unlikely it is that it’ll work here, the first thing Ruby should do is whip that out and try to call her teammates.

Watching this moment in the context of the whole episode made it that much worse for me. It’s just so glaring how rushed this entire premiere was, with every logical reaction - to say nothing of the emotional beats necessary after that finale - getting brushed aside so that the team can get back together in under fifteen minutes. We’ve only got ten episodes, Ruby, so hurry it up. Go on, girl, give us nothing!

So we know the rest of this silliness, yeah? There’s the implication that a small amount of time has passed, an annoying dodo bird that must have been animated in later because Ruby doesn’t react to that either, a circular path of the jungle, and the soon to be named Little watching all this from a rock.

I want to emphasize that our first tonal emphasis here is humor. Having Ruby continually ending up in the same place, growing frustrated with cutsey voice acting, and the quick cuts of Little in various poses all function as lighthearted amusement for the audience... which is really fucking weird in a Volume following up on the trauma of last season. This is going to be an ongoing problem for the entirety of the episode and severely undermines the reveal that Penny has died (again). This is the exact thing RWDE folks have been worried about for literal years now, from the moment we realized we were getting a Wonderland-type world. I have little doubt that the fandom is right in saying that the rest of the Volume will likely get much darker than this (it almost always does nowadays), but that doesn’t matter because the damage has already been done. RWBY cannot continually flip-flop like this and expect its viewers to still buy into the serious moments. So many of us have lost faith in the writers’ abilities to treat these subjects respectfully and segueing from the (supposedly) fascist storyline that ends in horrific tragedy straight into, “What a whacky world, am I right? 🤪” is a damn good way to continually alienate viewers who want an emotional connection with this show.

Every time this criticism comes up there are other RWBY fans pushing back with the claim that a show - especially one that began so lighthearted and silly - simply can’t just be doom and gloom all the time. And you know what? They’re absolutely right. However, there are numerous ways to infuse comedy into your story without outright undermining the primary tone. Given that I’m reading it at the moment, I’d like to briefly use Kim Carnby’s Sweet Home as an example.

For those who are unaware, Sweet Home is a webtoon turned Netflix series that follows 18 year old Cha Hyun-soo after both his parents and sister die in a car accident. Given that he’s technically an adult, but without much financial support and already grappling with a deep depression, he moves into a rundown apartment complex and schedules his own suicide. Before he can go through with it though, a virus sweeps through the world, turning people into various kinds of monsters. These monsters - entertainingly creative - are modeled after whatever the infected person’s greatest desire is at the time of their turning, resulting in some benign beings... but much more hungry, violent, terrifying beasts. Thus, the story is centered around Cha Hyun-soo’s attempts to survive, the horrors found in his apartment complex, and the question of why he’s trying so hard to live when he’d already planned to die.

It’s dark, is what I’m getting at.

It also has moments like this:

And just a little while later:

Here, a generational divide infuses some much needed comedy into the story without detracting from the world’s overall tone (note too that Cha Hyun-soo remains looking stressed and anxious the whole time). It would be a problem if our depressed, terrified teenage suddenly started jumping like he’s having the time of his life (Weiss). It would be a problem if the entire first volume, which is meant to highlight the horror of this situation, was constantly peppered with lame jokes involving cutesy animals (the mice). If you’re going to add comedy, keep it subtle, relatable, and in this case bound to the characters’ internal monologue. By having them each compliment the other with age-appropriate comparisons that cause confusion, but without verbally acknowledging that confusion, the humor exists purely for the audience’s sake. The characters aren’t supposed to be laughing it up right now... so they don’t. The humor is for the reader alone, recognizing the miscommunication and enjoying it as an element separate from the dark tone of the characters’ world. Because this is the vibe of the scene directly before:

RWBY fails at this division. A lot. Like, that failure makes up the majority of this episode.

You know what? It’s easier to just keep a count going.

Little’s introduction is Ill-suited Comedy Example #1.

All of which means that when Ruby starts crying - and by that I mean a few sniffles and a single tear track - I have no investment in the moment. Even if the animation were close to what I’d expect after such a tragedy, its impact is obliterated by the, “Look! Cute mouse!” immediately proceeding and following it.

Also, love how Little has never seen a human before, is watching Ruby intently during this entire process... yet makes no effort to engage with her. I suppose I get it given the emphasis on how scared the mice are of predators, but from a character perspective it leaves something to be desired. In regards to Ruby not (yet) utilizing Little as a means of expressing her thoughts to the audience, our first Ever After character is just kinda... there. Ruby stumbles across them. (BTW, is they/them what the fandom is using for our first non-binary rep?) They only speak because they feel obligated to help Ruby after she retrieves the cheese. They come on this adventure because, by their own admission, they simply have nothing better to do. What’s the point of Little again? How are they serving the story? They don’t even lead Ruby to Blake and Weiss - she stumbles across them on her own while Little sleeps. In fact, it’s already a running gag that Little naps instead of doing anything useful. I wouldn’t care so much if RWBY weren’t already a show suffering from character bloat and an inability to manage that (because the former isn’t necessarily a problem on its own). Now that we’ve finally got the girls alone(-ish) and primed for some character development, I don’t want to squander it on stupid mouse jokes.

Given which: Little’s ‘Gimme The Cheese’ dance + accompanying sounds effects is Ill-Suited Comedy Example #2.

I mentioned the first time around that I am weak for a cute, animal companion. That remains true. Unfortunately, Little’s cuteness is only carrying them so far with me. Their negative impact on the narrative as a whole is, thus far, simply too much to fix with grabby motions and snot bubbles.

They ask the thematic, “What are you?” question and introduce a number of other theoretical ideas that, frankly, I doubt the Volume will capitalize on. Is your name your purpose? (Like Huntress Ruby Rose.) How does one "Little"? The team is “similar, but different.” Until the Volume actually does something with these questions, I’m inclined to read them as simple ‘nonsense’ language included to try and emulate Carroll’s style.

With Little planning to show Ruby her village (but doesn't actually succeed in that), we cut to Weiss and Blake traversing the jungle together. How did they find one another? No idea. Why did they find one another when Blake fell with Ruby? No idea. The story tries to bypass this by, as expected, leaning into the illogical nature of the world. If they somehow found each other, then they might be able to likewise find Blake’s weapon, despite the fact that it fell long after her. Honestly, this feels more like a very convenient plot device than an interesting characteristic of this world. Things happen so randomly here! Funny how that randomness seems to solely benefit the heroes.

Sidenote: I really like that Weiss says “Gambol Shroud” because the weapon names have felt only semi-canon for a very long time. Other than Ruby referring to Crescent Rose back in the first couple episodes, have we heard the names at all? I can’t recall off the top of my head, but regardless this makes for a nice moment between Weiss and Blake. It’s a small thing, but it helps sell the idea that they do actually know one another well.

The rest of the scene is... passable. Weiss has a “Blake... I’m really glad you’re okay” line and gets a “I’m really glad you are too” in response. This is one of those cases where I think fiction needs to deviate sharply from reality. Irl that’s probably exactly the kind of awkward, rushed line I’d give a close friend because I myself am awkward and struggle to verbalize my care for others (gift giving ftw!). But in fiction an exchange like that just comes across as wooden. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” says the girl who thought this friend had died and for real saw another friend get killed by a third like, an hour ago. Wow, what a reaction! This is also a case of RWBY’s animation acting as a constraint. As said earlier, I think the animators are doing the best they can under the circumstances, but better writing, time, and funds would likely lend itself to a more expressive reunion for all the girls. It also highlights how convenient the time-skip is. You can easily argue that these two cried and hugged and went through their Face Journeys when they first found one another. No need to rehash that though because it already happened off screen!

All of this is made worse for me by the fact that Blake says that if they’re fine, the others “might” be okay too. Might! That’s a loaded word choice with absolutely no follow up. Remember, this is the girl who was beside herself with anger and grief when Yang “died.” So glad to see that emotion carried over into the next Volume. I mean hell, give me a Blake who’s screaming at Weiss to just ditch her weapon. Why are they bothering with that when Yang is still missing?? Screw vines and mice, I’m going to go find my partner!

If only.

Everything in this episode just rings so hollow to me. I mean, I expected that given RWBY’s track record, but this is a severe failure to me given the intensity of Volume 8. From Penny's death to destroying a Kingdom, the fate of their friends to lost Relics, we needed a stellar start to this emotional journey and we simply didn’t get it.

That includes Weiss dodging the question of what happened after Blake fell. I really enjoyed this on the surface, just not - as is so often the case - in the context of RWBY as a whole. Because what is Weiss doing here except keeping another secret? In her defense, it doesn’t last long and there’s a case to be made about how difficult it is to discuss such things, especially after they just happened, so as said, I think that’s a compelling situation to put her in. It’s just one that also happens to poke at a RWDE sore spot because we had such a strong anti-secret rhetoric for three Volumes. Thanks to that arc, my initial reaction is not, “Poor Weiss. Grappling with this traumatic event.” It’s “See, Weiss? See how hard it is to discuss something horrific that you went through? But oh, you and the others had no sympathy for Ozpin in that regard, so just get over it and spill the crucial information already. Snap, snap, keeping Blake informed is more important than your mental health.”

All of which isn’t even touching on how she explains the situation... but we’ll get to that.

So they have this exchange that’s passable in many regards and fails largely due to the problems RWBY has carried with it for years now. They stumble across Gambol Shroud and proceed to spend a while trying to cut the vines/reach it from a nearby tree. This is how Weiss cheers Blake on.

Weiss: “Yah! Woo!”

Example #3, folks.

Weiss’ completely inappropriate cheer-leading aside, the entire time I’m going, “How is this in any way a problem?” I know Blake has become the useless fighter who can’t take out a single grimm without Ruby’s help, and Weiss has forgotten everything except her summoning, but has the audience forgotten how these girls used to fight? Anyone recall this moment from their very first battle?

Oh no, a giant pile of vines! However will we get past this obstacle?😱

I don’t know, maybe just... jump? Or you could get a little more creative by summoning a clone and doing a cool person-tower move to reach the top? That’s definitely not me pulling from my love of Yu Yu Hakusho or anything.

TEAMWORK, BABY!

My point is that moments like this fall flat precisely because RWBY has spent so much time showing us the group’s extreme abilities. Remember that scenes like the Ace Ops fight hinge on their presumed excellence. This is a group that beat the best team in Atlas! But now they can’t even bypass a pile of vines? The downside of giving your characters great power is that you then have to continually come up with ways for them to still face challenging conflict. Some shows handle this rather badly (like Castiel not just blowing up every demon/mortal that opposes them) and some shows handle it rather well (we establish early on that despite technically having the power to get the crew out of sticky situations, Star Trek’s transporter is prone to glitches and interference from the weather). Basically, you can’t go, “These girls are brimming with power because that looks awesome in a fight! But oh, now they can’t use that power because... uh... because that would interfere with our lame gag?” There has to be a reason. And this is far from the first time RWBY has conveniently forgotten the characters’ abilities. I still cringe at Ruby hanging off the cliff during the Cordovin battle. It’s meant to be a dramatic moment wherein she faces great danger from a fall, but they tried to give that to the girl who can fly.

So this is just incredibly stupid to me. Bad enough that we have gags following the intensity of Volume 8, but RWBY hasn’t even put in the effort to make them good gags. This episode honestly feels like RWBY satire to me, more akin to a Chibi episode, or a YouTuber poking fun, than the content fans waited two years for.

Right as Blake reaches her weapon they learn that the vines were a trap and they move, ensnaring both girls. We knew that was going to occur from the trailer and I thought that this was just another aspect of the Ever After. The vegetation (a bit like Alice’s flowers) is alive, sentient, capable of helping or hurting you. That’s pretty cool and, as I mentioned in regards to the environment responding to Ruby’s emotions, could be utilized in fantastic ways for combat.

However, this isn’t actually the case. Apparently the mice have sprung this trap because... Blake is a cat?

Wait.

So let me get this straight. This village of mice - who have never seen a human before, but have definitely seen cats - assume that Blake is exactly the same because she has cat ears. Then they found her weapon before her, somehow realize it is her weapon (even though Blake has yet to even stand next to it within the Ever After), and set an elaborate trap so that they can be the “hunters” for once, instead of the prey. Blake happens to come along with another human, but who cares? Capture her too! What are they going to do with them then?

Uh... the only thing we know about these mice is that they spend the majority of their time foraging for food and they struggle greatly to get the cheese out of the ground, and this would certainly be a way to both feed the village and eliminate a presumed enemy, so...

You know what? Never mind. I’m not going there lol.

This is stupid and illogical, but not in a wacky Wonderland way. Also, anyone else a little uncomfortable with the mice calling her a cat and Blake just going with it? Is that the stance we’re going with after eight seasons of a civil rights movement? That a faunus girl and an animal are fundamentally interchangeable?😬

They could have used this moment to let Blake explain her identity to someone coming from a place of well-meaning ignorance but noooo, why would we have an interesting conversation with the mice when they can just cheer about cheese instead? “She pulled the cheese out of the ground ON HER OWN!” Little cries, causing another mouse to faint in shock.

Example #4

While all this is going on Ruby shows up because remember, the premiere is trying to get the group back together as quickly as humanly possible. Or magically possible, in this case. We get Ruby asking if Little is drooling on her - “Yuck” - before spotting the village of mice about to do presumably unspeakable things to her teammates. Remember the shot from the trailer where Ruby looks properly horrified and I wondered what could possibly be causing that reaction? Yeah. It’s just this.

Example #5. Sigh.

If you were hoping for a proper reunion between these three, keep hoping. We segue immediately into a practical explanation where Ruby explains, about five minutes too late, what she was trying to accomplish while wandering around the jungle. Little has her freak-out about Blake, explains Ruby’s magic cheese gathering skills to the others, and then decides to tag along to find Yang because, and I quote, “I don’t have anything to do yet.” For a hot second I thought this was going to lead into more information about mouse culture. You know, how Little has already admitted that they don’t have a name, how they equate names with a purpose, and therefore if they have nothing to do in their village yet because they’re so young, they’ll find a purpose by traveling with these humans. We might have even put off Little’s naming to this moment, having them or one of the girls come up with something appropriate to the task ahead: something like Guide, or even Friend (of Humans).

But no, apparently Little is tagging along just because they literally have nothing better to do? In the sense that they’re bored and why the hell not? It’s not exactly a compelling reason and, given that they’ve yet to provide any actual assistance to the girls, I’m continually questioning their place in the story. This is what critics mean when they say that time is wasted with Volume-specific side characters when we could be doing more, better work with the core team.

Case in point: Little says that they’ll be “your trusty guide!” and then the joke is that they’re immediately asleep again once the girls set out.

#6!

I do like the following scene though. As the trio follows a path that they’ve found, Weiss walks ahead with her back (obviously) facing Blake and Ruby. When Ruby likewise questions what happened after they fell, there’s this long pause where Weiss considers how to respond, not turning around. It’s a powerful little detail, refusing to show us, or the girls, her face. It leaves her expression up to interpretation while maintaining the impression that she’s hiding from her teammates, due to not knowing how to address their failure. Her insistence on finding Yang first just highlights that avoidance. Really, I think this moment works quite well and I wish the whole episode had been treated this seriously.

Just as Ruby is about to press the issue they hear a roar from nearby. Following it, they discover a creature that fans have already dubbed RWBY’s version of the Jabberwocky.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Bewared the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!"

Kudos to RWBY for trying here. It’s no secret that I think one of the best grimm lately have been The Apathy, so having another horror-leaning creature was a good decision in my opinion. Unfortunately, I like the idea more than the execution. The twitching motion of the Jabberwocky could have been creepy, but it doesn’t quite capture that feeling of unnatural otherness that makes your skin crawl. A problem with the animation, or something the engine itself just isn’t equipped to create? I’m not sure. Its voice is also a nice touch, with the exception that it’s really hard to understand once it starts yelling. At first I thought RWBY was leaning into the Jabberwocky’s origins. That is, using nonsense words like those from Carroll’s poem whose meaning is understood only in context. Now though, I think it’s just a badly voiced character? I’m not sure because Crunchyroll’s subtitles wouldn’t work for me (of course) and all I got was the “Searching. Stalking. Detecting.” in the beginning.

Which, you know, is an interesting bit of dialogue. RWBY has always straddled the line between fantasy and Sci-Fi, so I’m pleased to see some of the latter worming its way into the distinctly fantasy setting of the Ever After. The Jabberwocky sounds like an AI creation following a coded command. Out of everything this episode, I’m most eager to learn more about it.

Of course, we can’t learn anything now. Despite the fact that Yang stumbles out of the jungle, arm gone, throwing a rock at the Jabberwocky, and looking like she’s been through hell and back. Would you like to know what Yang experienced while on her own here? Or how she came across the Jabberwocky? What she might already know about it?

Would you like to see an actual battle in the combat show’s premiere?

Too bad.

The Jabberwocky just runs off and we get an... interesting reunion for the whole team. First off, Weiss just isn’t a part of this. Given that she’s not Yang’s sister or the Schrodinger girlfriend, she’s shuffled off to the side. Second, Ruby is greeted with a, “Dammit! You weren’t supposed to be here” which I really like. Rather than going the pure fluff route, the writing seems to consider the fact that Yang (as we’ll learn soon) thinks she may have died, so of course she’s horrified to see her little sister here too. This isn’t a joyful reunion for her, it's evidence that her (stupid) sacrifice was in vain. As always, I wish we could have explored that a little more - specifically this idea that Yang thought she was dead and was still trying to defend herself against hostile creatures - but a single line is all we’re given.

Ruby gets that soft smile of hers, kneels down, and says, “If you thought we wouldn’t have come for you then you must have forgotten who raised me.” Aww.

...wait.

Hold up.

The fuck??

First of all, that is NOT what happened. Ruby didn’t come looking for Yang, she lost to Cinder - DESPITE HAVING A UNIQUE ABILITY TO BEAT HER, I WILL CONTINUALLY ADD - and failed to rose-petal her way to safety. Wow, way to imply a heroic rescue that doesn’t exist, Ruby. Also, this simultaneously implies that if they had won the fight Ruby would have dove into the void afterwards to try and find Yang which... you know... I highly doubt. Just given her non-reaction to her sister “dying.” If there was going to be any rescue attempts, give me a Ruby who jumps after Yang as she’s falling and they both go in together.

So that’s a huge misrepresentation of events and then Ruby follows that up with, “you must have forgotten who raised me"? What exactly is that supposed to mean? Because a lot of people raised Ruby. Is it Tai, Summer, Qrow... or Yang herself? This almost feels bait-y to me, in the sense that the writers must know that mom!Yang has been a huge debate in the fandom for years, so they toss in this ambiguous line that could go either way. Is Ruby referring to her many capable, loving, adult guardians? Or her older sister that maybe, sorta “raised her” while their dad was recovering from the death of his wife? I don’t know, why don’t you all fight about it ;)

But no, let’s talk about the actual bait: bumblebee.

Now, for a long time I’ve refrained from calling Blake/Yang queerbaiting for the simple reason that I’ve expected the show to follow through with the romance in a way I don’t expect that from “real” queerbaiting. Remember, the word originates from a hard “No” on the queer front, that’s why it’s baiting and not a slow-burn towards representation. However, we’ve now entered an age of television where, yes, many couples do become canon, but only in the final hour when the writers don’t have to actually write a queer romance. That’s the modern from of queerbaiting and goddamn, is bumblebee fitting it to a T.

I know the fandom has some memory problems, but everyone recalls the surety that Yang and Blake’s romance would kickstart after Yang “died” right? That having Blake mourn her and then discover her alive would finally push her to go in for a kiss? We pictured a plot where the girls were separated for the first couple of episodes, still believing the others were gone, Blake stumbling across Yang in the Ever After, the confusion and shock and relief at finding her again, the kiss that would finally bring RWBY into 2023--

Yeah. There’s none of that.

I myself said that THIS was the time to do it. If you ever needed an excuse to get the queer couple together (which you don’t) then the reunion after one thinks the other has died is 100% the time to do it. Emotions will never be stronger! Inhibitions will never be lower! Don’t pass up such a golden opportunity!

They totally passed it up.

This reunion is just as generically ambiguous as all the others, right down to Yang hugging Blake with a tenderness that’s equal to what she’s given other characters:

Friends. This is all the same hug. There is nothing coded romantic in this reunion, not unless we want to claim that Yang is also romantically attracted to Ren, Weiss, and her sister.

I’ve already seen some fans talking about the importance of Blake initiating contact when before she always held back and yeah, sure, that can be read as character growth, but that’s the kind of minuscule step forward we needed years ago. Not now. Now we’re firmly in bait territory and need confirmation.

“But, Clyde, it’s just the start of the Volume. They could still kiss!”

I don’t care. RT had an opportunity and they squandered it. If there's a kiss, a confession, or whatever comes later in the Volume, it’s still more time that the show has spent in a will-they-won’t-they dance. I’m so sick of it. RWBY’s queer rep is atrocious and I find that to be particularly insulting in a show that’s praised for and celebrates its own diversity. I watch plenty of television with no queer rep at all, but I don’t give them the same kind of shit because they’re not pretending to be the Pinnacle of Queer Representation. If you’re going to claim that you have a queer main couple, then actually give us a queer main couple.

God I was actually so hopeful I’d be writing a, “We’ve finally confirmed it!” recap. It’s beyond frustrating at this point and I’m continually shocked at the fans who are celebrating that hug like they’ve been given a feast and not crumbs. If I were more emotionally invested in bumblebee as a ship - meaning, if I cared more about the relationship itself rather than how it functions as representation for RWBY - I’d be pissed as hell. Yang “died,” Blake lost her mind over it, we waited two years, and then you give us... that? If I were a hardcore bumblebee shipper I’d be writing about my extreme disappointment in RT, not my happiness that Yang touched Blake’s hair.

Actually no, I grew up in the age of no rep/the original queerbaiting, so really I’d be rolling my eyes at anyone who expected a canonical relationship and instead going off to write it myself as fic. I still believe very strongly that ships don’t need a canonical basis and in some ways fandom has limited itself by only writing about what’s canon, or “realistically” canon ([waves old man cane] “In my day we shipped characters who were never even on screen together!”), but I acknowledge that we’ve entered a new age of television. Viewers expect more. They should expect more and they should get it.

With the disappointing hug behind us, Yang observers that if they’re all here then things must have gone really badly up top. This finally pushes Weiss over the edge and she starts the not-crying that all the RWBY girls do, where she has wet eyes and a single tear track. “Penny,” she says. “Jaune tried to help... but she scarified herself...”

And by that you mean Jaune killed her? Weiss’ recounting of events makes it sound like her own stabbing by Cinder: Penny was hurt and Jaune tried to heal her, only this time it wasn’t enough. When in reality we’ve got Jaune giving up because his “I’ve had a human body for twenty minutes” patient says there’s no hope and then slitting her throat because Penny mistakenly believes all she can do with her life is give it up.

Again: what happened to telling your team everything? Where did the importance of context and the complete picture go? For a team that’s so furious when others provide incomplete or misleading information, they sure do that themselves a lot. We can add, “Weiss horribly mischaracterizes Penny’s death” to the “Yang is keeping the Spring Maiden a secret, twists all their failures into victories to win a fight with Ren, and Ruby straight up lied to Ironwood” list.

In another show I’d have more faith that this would come back to bite Weiss; that the girls will later learn the truth and express some actual emotion at her inability to keep them informed... but who am I kidding. This is RWBY. It’ll be forgotten - or retconned - by next episode.

Ruby faints at hearing that Penny has died (again) and man, I really want to like this moment because it’s definitely more of a reaction than I was expecting based on our post-Volume 3 writing. However, this is primarily used as a way to avoid Ruby’s reaction, wherein she wakes up some undetermined time later and is allowed to pretend to be fine, thereby jumping over any conversation/crying/actual emotion we might have seen from her. I know that Ruby will be grappling with this for the entire Volume - our intro proves as much - but it’s still disappointing that we don’t get to see Ruby grapple with her initial feelings because she was too busy being unconscious.

Also, anyone else frustrated that the same action used to depict horror and grief is used for a gag just a few minutes earlier? A mouse faints at the thought of someone being able to pull up cheese with a single tug! Ruby faints at the thought of her dear friend dying for a second time! This is why all that earlier humor messes with the more serious moments.

Our final scene once again fails to convince me that any of these characters love each other outside of the Grand Gestures delivered post-tragedy. No one is holding Ruby while she’s unconscious. No one has made her a makeshift pillow or blanket. Yang asks once if she’s alright - when she’s clearly not - and then just drops the subject when Ruby says yeah, she’s fine. None of them waited until she’d woken up to have this important conversation. After Weiss’ tears and Ruby’s faint, there are no reactions to Penny’s death. Do Blake and Yang care? Presumably not considering they never had a real relationship with her, but RWBY likely wants us to assume that their reactions exist off screen. Remember, given that we’re primarily following Ruby as our protagonist, her being unconscious means that we also skip over how everyone else reacts too. The viewer only gets to continue seeing the story when Ruby wakes up.

I had low expectations for the Volume 8 follow up, but overall this is pretty bad even by my nonexistent standards. It’s not that the premiere doesn’t give us any worthwhile moments, it’s that none of them are capitalized on. They just sit, unexplored, or outright undermined by what the rest of the episode has produced.

It’s disappointing, to say the least. As are our final lines. Yang admits that she thought she was dead, but there’s no time to let her or the others explore that. We hear a throwaway line that her arm was stolen - which relies a lot on the viewer having seen the trailer to understand how and why that happened, at least until next episode. And then Blake follows a bit of light shining through to them, parting some of the vines to look out across the entirety of Ever After.

“I know how this sounds, but... I think we’re in a fairy tale.”

Our final line, folks! Is there anyone else that would have preferred ending on Ruby’s faint? Feels more dramatic and would have let the fandom theorize a bunch before she wakes up next episode (even if then, inevitably, there would have been disappointment that nothing was done with it). Really, I get why they want to end on the shot of Ever After, but all I could think was, how in the world did you come to that conclusion, Blake? Given that this is a world based off of a real fairy tale and not the fairy tales that exist in Remnant. I would 100% buy a character from our world recognizing that they’re in a place similar to Wonderland, but nothing we’ve seen here reflects the tales of Remnant.

Well no, there is one thing, but it exists in the opening. Blake’s been reading the script again.

So let’s unpack that, shall we?

(Sorry, I need to slam all the important opening screenshots together because tumblr won't let me upload any more images boooo).

Our first shot is of Jaune! 🤦‍♀️

Really? That’s the beginning of every episode’s opening? Jaune crying with his broken, bloody sword? Hmm, I wonder if the character imposing on the girls’ team journey will be important this Volume. We also get another shot of him with a clock motif, making me wonder if the theories about him having (somehow) spent longer in the Ever After will prove to be true.

This initial shot is paired with Neo looking sad, presumably over Roman’s death and her continued failure to avenge him. She appears in the trailer a fair bit which, alongside the Jabberwocky, is the thing I’m most excited for. I’m glad that, at least based on this, it doesn’t look like they’re going to squander her role as a villain here. We see Neo drinking her tea with a fantastic smirk, surrounded by a group of shadowy antagonists.

A huge list of one-off baddies, or the various looks she’ll be adopting to mess with the characters? I’m hoping for the latter, especially since some fans think that one of the silhouettes looks like Jacques. However, I do question whether she can actually pull something like that off. I love the idea of Neo manipulating the group, especially in a Volume hosting a grief arc, especially in a place that, as far as they know, might contain their dead loved ones. For a brief moment I even questioned if that other Ruby we see in the trailer was Neo. The problem is I’m pretty sure she speaks and, thus, it’s very difficult for a villain to pretend to be an ally for more than a few seconds when she’s mute. Combine that with the fact that Ruby knows Neo is here and that all just kinda... falls apart. Which is unfortunate because I would have loved to see a Neo using the Ever After’s impossibilities and her own semblance to mess with the heroes. Still, a final shot at the end appears to show everything stemming from Neo, which makes me think she’s going to be the major antagonistic force this Volume and/or gains control of the Ever After somehow. Fitting, for a woman with control over illusions.

Whether Neo makes much use of her semblance or not, I hope we don’t have another 8+ characters to introduce because there’s already Little, the other mice, the cat, racoon, the forge lady, the knight (same person?), the Red Queen, the creature hiding in the leaves, the caterpillar, the Jabberwocky, and this new girl. People get why that’s a lot to manage, right? Especially in a story with four main protagonists, with two others thrown into the void with them. I get that they don’t want the Ever After to be a wasteland, but RWBY continually has a problem with side characters eating up the time and focus. Then they’re left behind and that work feels wasted. Why spend a Volume developing Little (or Ilia, Sun, Neptune, etc.) just to drop them? This bloated cast means it’s a bit of a relief that Volume 9 doesn’t seem to be trying to jump between here and Vacuo, but damn. Three years to find out what’s happening with the others? The growing chance that there will be a time skip and that the girls will come back to find all these ongoing problems resolved off screen: We somehow rescued all the people from the desert! Ren and Nora are officially together! Winter has long gotten used to her powers! Oscar merged while you were gone and now we don’t have to worry about Ozpin anymore!

Not looking forward to it.

Out of all these new characters, the most important is the young girl. My current theory is that she’s the girl from “The Girl Who Fell Through the World,” with perhaps our opening line - “This is the story of a girl who had a lot of problems” - being the first line of her tale. We know due to Ozpin that many of Remnant’s fairy tales are based on true events, so it would make sense if that one came about after a young woman literally fell into a different world. We see her arrive on the beach before Crescent Rose shows up, implying that she’s been there a long time, and there are some implications that she’s a rather powerful figure now: she leads the group through the various environments (with Ruby lagging farther and farther behind. Perhaps the introduction of a new team leader will increase her feelings of inferiority and failure?), she appears right before an evil copy of Ruby turns around (love that grin), and she's in a painting with another, shadowed figure behind her. Despite the fact that we already have this reference (short of) it gives me Ozma/Tip vibes, wherein the original Wizard of Oz books Ozma is turned into a boy named Tip in an effort to keep her hidden.

Regardless of her role, I have the feeling this girl will end up being more of an antagonist than an ally; a representation of the ways Ever After can twist a long-term resident and likely a foil to Ruby (the true leader) and Jaune (someone who will overcome the world’s allure and return with the girls).

There are a number of other thematically significant shots throughout the opening. All the girls are shown in their various outfits, smiling or smirking, but Ruby grows sadder and her most recent counterpart hides in her cloak, facing away from the viewer.

Her tears - more than we’ve seen her actually cry in the show, I'd like to point out - transforms into Crescent Rose.

The girls try to navigate an impossible maze where the Ruby copy shows up, they run up the tree before being blown back (falling remains relevant then), the girls are once again gloriously saturated in their colors (even if Weiss is still more blue than white), and I really like the shot of Ruby falling past the rabbit. Actually, I like the painted style of that fall far more than I like the look of the rest of the Volume.

However, what interests me the most about this intro is a series of images that may well be connected: two streaks of blue falling through the sky, a massive explosion that engulfs the life tree, and the burning of a book of fairy tales.

Look, I don’t care how awful the gods actually are, especially when RWBY has done nothing to explore that. I don’t care if this is one of their realms and the heroes need to take drastic measures to escape it.

You are NOT going to have the girls destroy a whole-ass world after they destroyed a Kingdom, right?

Right?

On that thoroughly optimistic note, let’s end with a miscellaneous section because we are nearly 10k in and this poor recap needs to be put to bed. (As do I.)

Thanks for reading! :)

Misc. Observations

I enjoyed the little detail of Ruby wringing out her cloak as she surveyed the jungle. Nice job remembering she just came out of the water.

I didn’t enjoy the actual shot of the landscape though. I totally get that there’s wonky perspective stuff going on given how far back the ‘camera’ is, but am I the only one who thinks the jungle looks WAY too small in that opening scene?

I definitely mentioned this the first time I examined our promo clip (and briefly above), but I wonder if the weather here is influenced by emotion, given that the rain appears to start and stop when Ruby cries. I want to say “No” now just because this already isn’t consistent - there’s no rain when Weiss cries, you’d think we’d see some kind of weather influence when Ruby faints - but a part of me is hopeful just because it’s such a cool concept. Especially for a combat show where terrain can make-or-break a battle. As we’ve seen, each little bit of Ever After seems to function differently - Ruby doesn’t hit another patch of repeating jungle, for example - so maybe this is something that will return sporadically?

This is definitely me being nitpicky and petty, but you’ve gotta love that, other than the repeat dialogue of Volume 8 and the faint shouts of “Ruby!” our first words of the Volume are, “Now if only you could help me.” I don’t begrudge anyone help, certainly not the protagonist of a story that wants to be centered around unification, but Ruby has struggled with agency so much I can’t help but roll my eyes a little. Yes, why would we write our protagonist figuring out how to help herself when the random mouse she stumbles across can do it instead? And then, you know, not actually do anything, allowing the protagonist to instead just stumble on what she wants, rather than actively retrieving it.

So you know how Little not-so-subtly mentions that an easy way to get on their village’s good side is to bring more of that cheese? Surely then when we next see Ruby she’ll be animated carrying a couple of those cheeses as a bribe? Spoiler: she's not.

Anyone else feeling iffy about Blake’s description of Yang? The one where she refers to Yang as the scary looking one? As someone who has been frustrated with Yang’s lack of anger management the last couple of Volumes, I’m not a big fan of her “scariness” being played as a cute character quirk.

Ruby remembers right before the non-battle starts that she’s without Crescent Rose. Funny how she didn’t appear to notice its absence before, or go looking for her precious weapon like Blake did. (Seriously, I know I’ve said this a hundred times by now, but the girls’ reactions to landing here and everything they’ve lost are nonexistent.) This also highlights how useless most of the girls are without a weapon in hand. Didn’t we have a mini-arc back in Volume 5 about them learning hand-to-hand? Wasn’t that specifically labeled as Ruby’s flaw? Now it crops back up and she just hangs back, scared? Once again I'm asking what the point of any of that was if we're not going to see the development. Something something only the most recent Volume is canon.

#rwde #rwby #mymetas #RWBY Recaps

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