#well i sure as hell ain't gonna be ready for it living with you

[sourbinnie]

☆ regrets & replacements ☆ (2)

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst with a hopeful ending ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> maknae line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> it's not about making up, it's about owning up to your mistakes. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> swearing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

a/n -> like i said in the hyung line ending this ain't a happy or a sad ending, this is more of a mix of both and i would say it's more neutral. i really feel like i didn't nail it but i'm gonna publish it anyways because i don't know if i can write it any other way. thank you for following this scenario! it means a lot to me the love that this one got in particular.

first part -> maknae line

jisung ✉

as you got home you were faced with a lot of doubt in your mind. why didn't you tell him that it was your birthday? why didn't he remember? were you just that forgettable? did he just care more about soohee than you? was it always going to be like this? it hurt, it really did. i mean you knew jisung had a tendency to forget everything but it felt like that didn't happen when it came to soohee.

minho was blowing up your phone but you couldn't seem to pick it up. you weren't ready to talk about anything at the moment, you just wanted to cry and that you did. it was as if the tears wouldn't stop falling from your eyes as you thought that maybe this would be the end. you just never seemed to be the priority and when you saw the door opening you weren't surprised but still felt like wanting to be alone.

"baby, baby, baby! i'm so fucking sorry. i cancelled everything that i was gonna do and i'm here now." jisung rambled as he was going around your apartment but you didn't move. you couldn't look at him because you weren't sure of what to say and you felt like you couldn't talk without breaking down and crying in front of him. jisung noticed and felt like crying himself as he took in everything. "(y/n) i'll make it right, i know i was an idiot and forgot but i need another chance."

"it's not about forgetting sung." you said which caught him off guard. this was more serious wasn't it? he was in deep trouble, he could sense it and it was scaring the living hell out of him. "you put her first again, you always do this. i just wanna feel like your partner but i sometimes feel as if she was dating you and not me."

"don't fucking say that. i only want you and she's just a friend, well was a friend because i don't want her in my life if she doesn't like you." he explained and you never wanted this. even if it hurt that she didn't like you, you never wanted to be the type of significant other that would dictate who your boyfriend could and couldn't hang out with. "i care about you, it's only you i want at the end of the day."

"i think i need some time, baby. we're not over but i just don't know how to feel right now." you said and he nodded as he heard your words. he wanted for you to be okay and that was his priority right now, nothing else. 

"can i at least take you out for your birthday? i know minho planned something." he said as he removed the tears from your cheeks. you gave him a little smile because he was about to cry at any moment too and couldn't resist hugging him. "i'm such a cry baby when it comes to you."

"i know, i love you like this though." you mumbled and let him sob in your arms for a while as you held him. you knew in the end though that things would be okay if you worked them out together.

felix ✉

looking at the clock in the kitchen was the way you were spending your time. your birthday was almost over and there was still no felix in sight. you sighed to yourself, there were no more tears to fall, it was just you and your numbness against the world. you didn't go out and celebrate, you didn't buy a cake or a present to yourself because there was no point if you felt completely destroyed.

to others it might seem a little too much but to you it was a big deal. you wanted to talk to someone about how you felt and how it was taking a toll on you mentally but when you looked at your phone and saw that background of felix smiling and holding you close, you had to shut it off again.

"(y/n)? can you please open the door? i forgot the key." his voice said through the other side and this was beyond what you wanted. you couldn't have this conversation right now but you knew you would have to because you couldn't avoid it forever. you opened the door to be met by a very distraught looking felix, his hair was messy and he was panting like he ran a marathon all the way to your house. his eyes were glassy as he looked at you and you just let him in.

"lix i would never ask this in other circumstances but why are you here?" you asked in a low tone and it hurt felix so much to see you this way. his usually bright and sparkled eyed partner was looking down and not being able to hold their gaze to meet him. your voice sounded broken like you've been crying for hours and it was all his fault. he wouldn't blame you if you didn't forgive him this time.

"i-i had to see you. i know how much i fucked up this time and i know how you feel about her, how you've always felt and i took it for granted." he said and the more you heard the more it hurt. "but i care way more about having you than maintaining a toxic friendship with someone who didn't respect my partner and i know it might be too late, i'm sorry (y/n). not only did i miss your birthday, i missed getting to see you smile, i missed getting you the presents, i missed going out with you and the people who actually care about me and i'm so deeply sorry."

it was as if he was losing himself as he spoke, you couldn't stand seeing that. it was going to be hard getting through this and being able to be okay with felix again. this was not about getting a present or remembering a date on a calendar, it was about trust and you knew that even after all, you trusted felix with your whole life.

"lix i love you, i really do. i feel like it's all too much right now and i just wanna go to sleep but i would love to try again tomorrow. maybe take me out and we can talk?" you offered as you got close to him, grabbing his cold hands and seeing him nod. "slow steps for now baby but i know we'll get through it."

"slow steps." he repeated and looked at you, finally eye to eye. he gave you a warm smile that you adored so much and then leaned in to kiss your cheek. it never failed to make you smile as well and that's all you needed as the clock struck midnight.

seungmin ✉

waking up all alone today felt dreadful. the excitement from yesterday was all gone when you remembered how you decided to spend your birthday and as you checked your phone and there was still no sign from seungmin, you gave up. you were going to try to continue with your day and not think about your boyfriend, soohee or anything negative that could ruin your mood immediately. but when you looked at your phone again, you had almost a spam level of messages from jeongin telling you to come over.

you knew what this was about (or you hoped). a certain part of you wanted to stay away from the dorms and not think about seeing seungmin but the other part that was louder knew you had to go and give him a chance to speak. you put on your shoes and grabbed your things to head to the dorms as you thought of the conversation you were about to have with your boyfriend.

he was waiting impatiently for you to arrive and when you did, jeongin opened the door and greeted you with a hug. it broke his heart when you didn't greet him the same way or with a kiss but he knew he deserved it after all that happened yesterday. you were both standing there, waiting for the other to speak and it was really heavy on his chest the fact that it didn't feel natural like it always has.

"okay why did you make me come here? even though you didn't text, it was jeongin who did." you said breaking the silence and he felt like a coward, everything was building itself up to be the last time you two ever meet didn't it? it was killing him. he couldn't lose you, no he wouldn't lose you.

"i knew that if i texted you, you would've ignored me. that's what i felt was going to happen." he explained and he was kind of right but you still wanted him to tell you something, hearing nothing from him made you doubt everything even more. "i feel like the biggest idiot on the planet right now. not only i didn't spend your birthday with you, i just simply disappeared and i couldn't even send a message."

"well i'm glad you're realizing this now but i just wanna know seungmin if you care about this relationship. i know it might sound like i'm exaggerating but i feel so hurt by what happened that it makes me just doubt everything. i want to be with you but do you want to be with me?" you asked and seungmin wasn't one to cry at all but this ticked all the boxes to making him feel like the worst boyfriend ever. 

"i want to be with you forever (y/n). there's no one else for me and i know you're asking because of soohee. she doesn't mean anything to me like that and if you want me to cut off ties with her, i will." he said confidently even if he felt the tears building up which he wiped them away immediately. you had never seen him cry and he didn't want to look weak or like he didn't mean the things he was saying in front of you. this image of seungmin showing his emotions was new to you but it felt real and honest.

"i don't want you to do anything because i told you to or you feel like it would make me feel better, you know? i just want you to be happy minnie. i was devastated with what happened yesterday and i can't say that forgiving you is gonna be easy." you explained and he felt a sob coming through because you were just so fucking caring and he couldn't even process why you were giving him a second chance. he caught the distance by hugging you because he couldn't take the coldness anymore, he wanted to feel you close and as you held him, you knew you couldn't be far away from him either.

"i know today is not your birthday but i'll make you remember everything about this day like it was if you let me baby." he muttered in your arms and you didn't have to say anything because you trusted his word. you weren't even thinking about your birthday, just how you and him fit like puzzle pieces when you held each other like that.

jeongin ✉

as you got home, you dropped all your things on your couch and noticed immediately that jeongin's things were already there. so you weren't gonna be able to avoid him after all you thought because right now all you wanted was to go to sleep and absolutely forget about everything that you went through tonight. just thinking about the fact that your boyfriend was with someone else when he planned the reservation and also the fact that she picked up his phone for him was unforgivable.

you could hear the key at the door and then faced that way to see your boyfriend standing there with so many things that your first instinct was to help him out. you hated yourself for being so nice sometimes but it was impossible not to be kind to jeongin even if he was on thin ice right now. he looked at you and could see the mad expression you were giving him, of course he deserved it.

"(y/n)? you probably hate to see me here but we need to talk." he said and you didn't respond because you felt like crying all over again just seeing him there. you put the cake that he bought in the kitchen and the presents on the coffee table, not even glancing at them because you couldn't care less about rushed last minute gifts that went no thought into them. "please, i know you hate me right now but i can't stand us being distant to each other and not hearing your voice."

"jeongin." you said and it went through him like a knife because he wasn't used to his full name. he looked at you and saw the tears that he feared so much, he promised you so many times he wouldn't be the cause of them and here you were. "i don't even know what to say. you forgot yeah, i can't get past that and i wouldn't be so mad if you weren't hanging out with someone who hates me in every way and you let her pick up your phone! it just feels like she's more your partner than i am sometimes."

"no, not at all. i won't ever be with her and i don't want to be with her." he said looking at you and getting closer, you didn't take a step back because even if you were fuming you just wanted to be held by him. "you're the only one for me and that won't ever change even if tonight i let you down, even if you make me leave right now, i won't want anyone that's not you." 

"you just made me feel so humiliated there all alone." you said and he nodded trying to not make the mental image of you waiting for him in the restaurant but he failed to because that's all he could think about when he was coming to your apartment. "i don't know if we'll able to fix this."

"i want you. scratch that, i need you (y/n)." he begged and you knew that you needed him too. his tears were falling softly but you wiped them off because seeing him upset was a sight that drove you insane. it was a mix of emotions for you and for him right now, a roller coaster that didn't stop. he couldn't stop looking at you, he needed a sign that this could be fixed and that you would be alright but he couldn't find any.

"give me some time to think yeah? i promise nothing bad is gonna happen and i just need it to process everything." you said and it was finally settled. he was desperate to make this right again and he would but he needed to respect your decision and that's what he would do.

"can i kiss you?" he asked and you were hesitant but still nodded. his hand on your cheek as he leaned in closer to seal the end of the day with a little kiss, nothing too passionate but it was just right for that moment as he pulled away. you looked at him and hoped everything would turn out right in the end but with jeongin holding you, there were no more doubts in your mind.

#sourbinnie #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #skz x reader #skz angst #skz drabble #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz #stray kids #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader

[dixons-sunshine]

👉👈 Because your my fav writer for Dad Daryl 👉👈 Just wondering if you’d consider him stepping up as a parental figure for his niece (Merle’s kid) after he “died” and when he actually died 👉👈

I'm Right Here | Uncle!Daryl Dixon x Niece!Reader (platonic/familial)

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: With Merle gone, you were the only family Daryl had left. He had unofficially stepped up as your dad, and in those eight months with your actual father "dead", Daryl was a better dad than Merle ever was. And he proved it in more ways than one, even before Merle went missing.

Genre: Fluff, some light angst.

Era: The Quarry, The Prison (season three).

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood and death, fear of abandonment.

Word count: 2.4k

A/n: I've been bouncing back and forth between fics and finally managed to finish this. Next up is I Never Lived For The Applause, and then some more young!Daryl. Anyhow, I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Hey, kiddo. Ya alrigh'?”

“I'm fine. The walkers didn't get me,” you tried to reassure him. “You didn't find my dad?”

You looked up at the sound of your uncle's voice, meeting his intense gaze. You gave him a small, unconvincing smile that he could see through instantly.

Daryl sat down on the log next to you, placing his crossbow down on the ground. He stared ahead at the ashes of the prior night's fire, an unreadable expression on his face. “Nah. Wasn't nothin' to find 'cept his hand. He had to cut it off.”

You winced, absentmindedly grabbing your own hand at the mere thought of the pain that it must've caused your father. Despite your strained relationship with the man for obvious reasons, he didn't deserve that fate—to lose his hand because some people couldn't find another way to deal with his temper.

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling your heart break. Despite everything, Merle was your father and you loved him. At least he had stuck around. The same couldn't be said for your mother, who had dropped you on Merle's doorstep the moment you were born.

“Yeah,” Daryl responded, instantly picking up on your downtrodden mood but not knowing how to bring you comfort in a moment like that. He'd just essentially told you, his thirteen year old niece that was so wise beyond her years due to the shit Merle had gotten into, that your father was most likely dead. It tore him apart to have to bestow that news on you, but it was necessary. What could he do, lie to you? That was out of the question.

You blinked the tears away that had started to well up in your eyes, trying to put on a brave face for your uncle. “Looks like it's just us now, huh, uncle Daryl? The two remaining Dixons.”

Daryl gave you a tight-lipped smile and ruffled your hair, chuckling quietly at the sound of protest you let out. “Looks like it. We're gon' give the world hell, ya and I. Jus' like the old times.”

You smiled up at him. Even though your father was gone, you still had your uncle, and that made you feel better about everything.

“We are. The world ain't ready for us.”

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“It won't work.”

“S'gotta.”

“It'll stir things up,” Rick told Daryl, adamant with his decision.

“Look, the Governor's probably on the way to the prison righ' now. Merle knows how he thinks, and we could use the muscle,” Daryl replied defiantly, glancing between his companions on the road.

“Do you really want him sleeping in the same cellblock as Carol, Beth or Y/n?” Glenn questioned, unwilling to let Merle, a known hothead and former drug user, near the people he's come to care about.

“He ain't a rapist,” Daryl responded, frowning at Glenn's accusation. “And he sure as hell wouldn't touch his own daughter like tha'. Merle may be sick in some ways, but he ain't like tha'.”

“Yeah, okay, but his buddy is.”

“They ain't buddies no more. Not after last nigh'.”

Rick chipped in to the conversation, turning the archer's attention back to him. “There's no way Merle's gonna live there without putting everyone at each other's throats.”

“What, so ya'd cut Merle loose and bring the last samurai home with us?” Daryl asked, motioning over to Michonne who was waiting for them by the car.

“She's not coming back with us.”

“She's not in a state to be on her own,” Maggie denied, giving Rick a pointed look.

Glenn nodded in agreement to his girlfriend's statement. “She did bring you guys to us.”

“And then ditched us,” Rick stated in a bored tone, eyeing Michonne warily.

“At least let my dad stitch her up?” Maggie asked.

“It's too unpredictable,” Rick denied vehemently, shaking his head.

Daryl nodded in agreement. “He's righ', we dun' know who she is. But Merle... Merle's blood.”

“No. Merle is your blood. My blood, my family is standing right here and waiting for us back at the prison,” Glenn countered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“And you're part of that family,” Rick told Daryl, looking at him expectantly. “He's not. He's not.”

Daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, pondering over his decisions. Thoughts of leaving with Merle, going off and fending for themselves like the old days flashed through his mind, but then he thought of you. You, his sweet, kind, low-key badass, now fourteen year old niece who he'd gone to great lengths to protect over the past eight months. The girl who he'd been taking care of since his brother "died", the girl who had unknowingly started to feel like his own daughter, though he would never tell Merle that. And at that moment, he knew he couldn't just leave. He wouldn't.

“Man, wha' do y'all expect me to tell my niece?” Daryl began, effectively silencing everyone. “Tha' I found her father after all this time and he's alive, but he couldn't come back to her 'cause y'all said so? How's tha' gon' fly with her? Ya'd really deprive the girl a chance at gettin' her father back 'cause of wha' might happen?”

That seemed to really make everyone reconsider. Even Glenn didn't have a counter argument now. Everything was silent for a good thirty seconds while Rick weighed his options, exchanging wordless exchanges with Maggie and Glenn. It was clear that nobody wanted it, but the group couldn't deny Daryl's argument. They cared about you, and it would be unfair for them to deny you the chance of getting your father back.

Rick turned and whistled, signalling Merle over. When he stood in front of him, Rick gripped him by his shirt, getting into his face.

“You're coming with us, but this isn't an invitation for you to be a jackass with everyone back at the prison. The only reason you're even coming back is because of your daughter. If it wasn't for her, you'd be gone.”

Merle's eyes widened the slightest bit with surprise, but it soon morphed back into his usual careless look. “Well, would ya look at tha'. My lil' girl still lives. M'surprised, quite honestly. Didn't think she was built fer this world. Kinda expected her to have kicked the bucket by now.”

“Man, shut up!” Daryl's voice boomed unexpectedly, shutting his brother up. “Dun' make me regret convincin' them to bring ya back. And if ya even say one degradin' thing to yer daughter, I will personally gut ya and feed ya to the walkers. Tha' kid's been through 'nough.”

Unbeknownst to either brother, Rick, Glenn and Maggie had walked ahead to get everything settled into the car, leaving the two brothers to their feud. It was a good idea, too. That was a family matter.

“Wha', ya actually care 'bout her now? Didn't see ya stickin' 'round to play pretend with her back before the world went to shit, and now yer tryna tell me how to parent my own child? Nah, lil' bro. Tha' ain't how it works.”

Daryl scoffed and shoved past him, walking over to the car. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of Merle's laughter, rolling his eyes at it. He pressed forward and slipped into the passenger's seat, not missing the way everyone tensed up when Merle got into the car.

He just hoped that he hadn't made the wrong decision by bringing Merle back.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

You and Carl were rushing over to the gates when you saw the familiar vehicle enter the courtyard. The car was noticeably more crowded, and with one glance through the window, you were relieved to see your uncle. You had been so worried that something might have happened to him, but there he was, relatively unscathed.

Daryl was barely out of the car when you practically launched yourself into his arms. He stumbled a bit but regained his footing, hugging you tightly to him. He didn't miss the unmistakable sound of your sniffles.

“Hey, kiddo, s'alrigh'. M'okay,” he reassured you in whispered tones, rubbing his hand up and down your back in comfort.

“I was so scared. I couldn't stop fearing the worst,” you choked out, trying to will the sobs away. You buried your face into your uncle's shirt, dampening it slightly with your tears, but he didn't seem to mind.

“M'righ' here. I ain't goin' nowhere, I promise,” he assured you. “No more tears, alrigh'? Ain't no more need fer 'em.”

“Well, ain't this jus' sweet.”

A familiar raspy voice met your ears. You tensed up, pulling away from the hug and turning around, facing the man you had thought to be dead for eight months—your father, Merle Dixon.

“Wha', no hugs fer yer old man, girl?” Merle asked, a grin on his face as he extended his arms in a silent invitation for a hug. “Yer not gon' greet the man who helped with givin' ya life?”

Subconsciously, you took a step back. Daryl stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. He gave Merle a warning glare before turning to you.

“Why dun' ya go help Hershel with tha' lady we brought back? I know he's been teachin' ya some medical things. It'd do ya good to learn how to do stitches.” You nodded, understanding his underlying message and sped off, leaving him alone with Merle. Daryl turned to face him, a glare on his face. “Man, back the hell off. She ain't gotta give ya anythin' if she dun' want to.”

“Because I was with the enemy?”

“'Cause yer a simple minded piece of shit who never even bothered to play dolls with her, much less give her hugs! Ya wanna know somethin'? When tha' lady dropped her off on our doorstep, who do ya think took care of her when yer ass was too high or drunk to? To answer yer question from earlier, I did stick 'round. I changed her diapers. I bathed her, fed her, stayed up with her at nigh' when ya wouldn't. I took care of her. Ya were jus' too fuckin' out of it most of the time to realise it! Hell, did ya think those things happened magically?”

“Now listen here, bro—” Merle started, but Daryl didn't light up.

“And when she got older, who the hell do ya think took her to school? Picked her up, encouraged her to do the spelling bee, went to parent teacher conferences? Do ya think the fuckin' tooth fairy did tha'? Say wha' ya want, bro, but she dun' owe ya shit. Ya may not have been like dad, but ya weren't a good father, either.”

Merle stayed silent for a moment, the weight of his brother's final statement weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Then why the hell did ya convince 'em to bring me back?”

“'Cause despite everythin', tha' girl still loves ya. And she deserves to have her father 'round,” Daryl responded simply before turning around and stalking off, leaving Merle alone and dumbfounded.

Merle Dixon wasn't right about most things, but one thing he knew for certain he was right about was that you probably didn't care whether he was dead or not. If what Daryl was saying was true, you didn't need him. You had a perfectly good father figure in your life already. Daryl had been a better father to you than your actual father was.

And for some unknown reason, that crushed Merle's heart.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You found him like that?”

Daryl's heart shattered at the broken sound of your voice. It was the second time that he had needed to tell you that Merle was dead, but this time, it was real. Your father's lifeless corpse layed motionless six feet in the ground in the designated graveyard, Daryl having dragged him there and buried him.

Daryl nodded. “Found him as a walker. He had tried to kill the governor but failed. Son of a bitch got to him first.”

“I should've stopped him. I should've known that something was wrong,” you said, a sob threatening to escape your body. “Before he left, he told me that he was proud of me. That he loved me. I should've known that there was a reason to it. He never told me that before. I should've—”

A choked up sob finally fell past your lips. Daryl instinctively pulled you into his arms, offering to be the pillar of strength for you as you crumbled. Despite everything, Merle was still your father. You still had a handful of good memories with the man—when he wasn't drunk or high, Merle was an okay father. But just okay.

It took a while, but you finally managed to calm down. Instinctively, Daryl pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, running his hand soothingly over your back.

“S'alrigh', kiddo,” he whispered soothingly.

You didn't know what made you say what you said next. Maybe it was the fact that you weren't thinking straight. Maybe it was because you were desperately looking for a pillar of support, you didn't know. But before you could stop it, the words slipped past your lips—

“Please don't leave me. I can't lose you too, Dad.”

A moment of silence passed. Unbeknownst to you, a small smile spread over Daryl's face. He pulled you closer to him.

“Ya still got me. M'here and I ain't goin' nowhere, kid. Yer stuck with me.”

Merle Dixon wasn't always a good man. He wasn't always a good father either. But in the midst of a cruel world, before and after the dead started walking, Merle managed to give Daryl a sweet gift—you, his daughter. Because despite biological relations, you were now truly his.

#krys writes .ೃ࿐ #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x female reader #twd daryl #daryl x reader #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader #merle dixon #the walking dead

[twola]

Passerine : Chapter 1

PAIRING: High Honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader

When a run-in with an O’Driscoll leads you to a fate worse than death, it’s up to Arthur to pick up the pieces.

Warnings: This fic has graphic descriptions of non-consensual sex, violence against women, the trauma thereafter, and somewhat unhealthy coping mechanisms. If any of that content makes you feel uncomfortable or triggers you, this may not be the fic for you.​

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“Don’t look so glum there, cowboy. I’ll be sure to put your money to good use.”

Arthur Morgan glares from across the table, pushing the pile of coins in your direction. 

“The hell are you gonna do with that money?” He spits, but cannot help the grin that begins at the side of his mouth.

You toss your braided hair over your shoulder. “As I damn well please, Mister Morgan. I think I’ll take myself to town.”

Pushing the dominoes into the center of the table, you stand and relieve Arthur of his money.

“Maybe I'll find me a nice stable boy and treat him to dinner.” You tease, knowing just how to rib the man in front of you.

He snorts, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lighting one at the table, “Ain't you just a proper lady, wine and dine the boy before robbin’ him blind.”

“Claro, Arthur, sounds like you have some experience with that.” Javier chuckles from his seat across the campfire. You look over at Javier and wink, laughing under your breath. 

Arthur rolls his eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette. You laugh as you deposit the coins into the pocket of your dress. 

“The pleasure was all mine, Mister Morgan.” You curtsy in an exaggerated manner before stepping away from the table and taking your leave.

Arthur shoots up as you walk away, heading toward where the horses are hitched across the camp. A pleased smile crosses your face as you hear his heavy footsteps behind you.

“C’mon now, you ain’t really gonna go blow that money in Valentine of all places,” Arthur complains, taking a drag of his cigarette as he follows you.

“Cattle town is gonna be the best place to pick up a strapping young stablehand, Mister Morgan. Besides, didn’t you and Lenny just blow through an embarrassing amount of money in Valentine two weeks ago?” You spin on your heel and press your pointer finger into his chest accusingly.

“That was - that’s… that’s different.” He sputters, almost dropping the cigarette from his mouth. A tinge of red stains his cheeks as his eyes dart away from you.

“Mhmm. Sure…” You roll the second word in a drawl imitating the man’s rough voice, the ‘u’ sounding more like an ‘o’ and ‘a’ smashed together.

He scowls in response.

“Are you seriously going to Valentine for that?”

You laugh, reaching your horse.

“I’m gonna go check out a lead I heard from one of the workin’ girls in town.” You pull on the strap of the horse’s saddle, tightening the holster where your repeater is tucked into. 

“Y’want company?” Arthur asks, dropping his cigarette on the ground and snuffing it out under his boot. God, this man is about as obvious as they come.

“Nah, I’m a big girl. ‘Sides, I’m just lookin’. I’ll be sure to find ya when it’s ready to hit though.” You pull yourself up into the saddle of your gelding, a young silver-coated trotter. 

“I’ll be back to take more of your money, I promise, Mister Morgan.” You laugh as you settle yourself in the saddle, looking down at him as he rolls his eyes at you. “Don’t miss me too much, cowboy .” You lower your voice to sweet registers as you lean over your saddle closer to him.

The very hint of a blush blooms on his cheeks again before he looks back to the ground.

This dance, the give and take, the teasing, it’s all burning in your gut deliciously. Somewhere along the way of robbing, thievery, and general skullduggery that the gang lived by, you and Arthur began this flirtation.

You’d be blind not to notice him - especially when he’s been apt to chop wood shirtless around camp. Karen may or may not have smacked you upside the head after catching you staring.

And you - you know you’re not any vixen - you certainly don't have Karen’s bosom, but you’ve noted Arthur’s stare at times, lingering for longer than is socially appropriate.

Also, there’s Mary Beth and Tilly teasing you that Arthur looks at you like a lost puppy. Karen drolls on that whatever this is between you is getting obnoxious and you two should just get in bed together and get it over with.

Maybe if Blackwater hadn’t happened the way it did, you’d have done that by now. It's been a while since you’ve been on your back for anyone , and certainly, since joining this gang a year back, you’ve been trying your damnedest to prove your worthiness as a thief, without sleeping your way around the camp.

But Arthur… Arthur; the stalwart enforcer, the muscle, the fearless, at times ruthless second in command… Somehow, underneath that bloody and hard exterior is a quiet, unsure, and unconfident man. 

You're in the painfully obvious stage of…. whatever this is between you, where the attraction is undeniable, the tension is palpable. Perhaps it was when Arthur insisted on teaching you how to shoot when a coach robbery in Colorado went south. Perhaps it was the way he curled his arms over your back to help you aim the repeater. Perhaps it was the way his rough, low voice whispered in your ear to keep both eyes open when aiming…

Speaking of which, his rough, low voice interrupts your thoughts.

“You be careful now, Miss.”

“Always am, Mister.”

Arthur nods and gives you a two-fingered salute as you urge your horse into a trot away from the camp, passing Karen on your way while on guard duty. She waves, and you toss some crude joke at her, to which she laughs back, fading out of view as your horse makes it past the brush and woods to the main road.  The gang had settled at Horseshoe Overlook several weeks ago after the mess of Blackwater and the terrible time in Colter. Things were slowly returning to normal - jobs were starting up again, there was money to be made.

The golden late afternoon sun falls behind the mountains as you steer your horse through the Heartlands, skirting east of Valentine and into the heavily wooded Cumberland Forest.

Some harlot with loose lips was talking up a client she had, some feckless man from the East who set up in a cabin north of Cornwall’s oil fields. Sounded like he had money, by the way the girl was talking in the saloon. All you had to do was a little scoping out, recruit some of the men for the job, and reap the benefits. You could see the pleased look on Dutch’s face when you bring back the haul, having orchestrated an entire robbery and provided for the gang. You would finally feel worthy .

The low light of dusk descended on the forest by the time you reach your destination. You hitch your horse just off the road, grabbing your binoculars and slinging your repeater over your back before quietly trapezing through the high grass and trees toward the clearing where the cabin stood. Luckily for you, the side you approached from sloped down a rocky hill, and there was a ledge perfect for spying upon the cabin and its occupants.

You sidle up to the ledge and stoop to your knees, then to your belly as you pull a pair of binoculars from your dress pocket. 

There we are.

Sprawled out on the ledge, peering through your binoculars with a repeater strapped across your back, you grin. A light is lit within the cabin, shadows of its occupant moving around. Hell, from the one window you can see in, things look clean and new. A sitting duck. You decide to stay another half hour to see if you can delineate any other people in the cabin.

None such exist. You snort, giggling to yourself with glee - this was going to be great. Tomorrow you would recruit Arthur and Javier, maybe John if he was feeling up to it, storm into this cabin, and rob this city slicker blind. Foolproof .

“You think you can just move in on my spot, huh, missy?”

A cold shiver goes down your spine as you whip your binoculars to the ground in front of you. Sprawled out on the grass of the ledge, it was near impossible to reach your repeater at this angle.

Not that it would have helped anyway.

The butt of a rifle meets the back of your head and all goes black. 

-

You awaken with a piercing pain in the back of your skull. It takes you moments for your vision to come into focus, but when it finally does, you find yourself indoors, the stench of stale cigarettes nearly overbearing.

Blinking, your eyes become less cloudy as you realize that you’re bound. Your hands are tied tightly behind your back, the fibers of rope rough against your wrists. You lay atop a bed of some sort, though calling it that would be generous. You struggle against your bindings, groaning against the fabric tied tightly against your mouth, gagging you. 

A door opens across from you, and as you strain to get your bearings in the dark, the light from a lantern floods the room. Decrepit, falling apart, dirty - a wardrobe with a door hanging off and random items thrown in. Bottles litter the floor. 

A chair with a rifle- no wait - a repeater slung over the back of it, hanging by a strap.

Your repeater.

“Now, what do we have here, little miss?”

Your eyes dart back to the stranger walking into the room, the man places the lantern down on a side table. 

“I got to thinkin’- who could this little lady be that’s scopin’ out my lead?”

He leans on the bed, uncomfortably close. You squirm as far as you can from him on the bed, your teeth clenching down on the gag in your mouth.

“Yer one of Dutch’s girls, ain'tcha? Colm’ll love this.”

O’Driscoll.

Of course. Dutch had said Colm was operating in the area. Hell - it wasn't two weeks ago that a bunch of the men cleared out a safe house full of them; the green-scarved assholes. Stupid, stupid. Why didn't you take up Arthur’s offer to come with you?

You narrow your eyes at the man and finally notice the green bandana at his collar, tucked into his dirty flannel shirt. He pulls an old, beat-up cabbie hat from his head and tosses it to the ground. His dark hair is disheveled, as is his beard.

“I’ll be bringin’ you back to our camp. Colm will want to be speakin’ wit ya. Y’know, he can be quite a convincin’ man.”

You continue to try and scoot yourself away from the man, a dirty, rough-looking scoundrel - just what you pictured when an O’Driscoll came to mind. Unfortunately, the bed where you’ve been deposited is against the wall, and you've quickly run out of real estate to put between you.

“The boys are hittin’ that house now, ain't gonna lose it to any stinkin’ Van der Lindes.” He spits with derision over Dutch’s name.

He turns and spits on the floor before moving closer to you. You try to buck and withdraw further to prevent him from touching you, but between his encroaching figure and the wall, you are trapped.

“But while we’re waitin, might as well have some fun.” He grabs your leg to stop you from moving. He yanks, hard, pulling you across the bed toward him. You yell into the gag. He pulls your boots off and tosses them across the room, they skitter across the floor. His hands dive under your skirt, finding your knees, and where your stockings end at your thigh. They are peeled from your legs as you try to squirm from his grasp.

Tears run down your face as you struggle, the screams reduced to animalistic cries with the fabric between your teeth. You pull on the ropes binding your wrist but are unable to make any headway other than rubbing the skin of your wrists raw behind your back.

“Y’know, pretty little thing like you, maybe I should make you my wife.”

The man looks over you, giving you a toothy grin. He leans over and takes your shirt in two hands and pulls, buttons fly and fabric tears as you struggle against him, yelling against the gag in your mouth. The shirt is pulled from your body in torn pieces before he starts to pull at the fastening of your skirt. You buck your knee up and hit him on the chin. Smarting from the blow, he works his jaw a bit before slamming his fist across your face.

You’re left dazed, vision going temporarily black. You feel your skirt loosen around your waist. There is a tearing of cloth, ripping, and as you’re reeling from the blow to your head, you feel your bloomers torn from your hips. Your threadbare chemise is all that shields your body from this man.

The terrible clicking sound of a belt being undone pierces the stillness.

“Now, now, you haven’t been too nice to me tonight, miss. Think it’s time ta teach you some manners. I know ol’ Van der Linde prolly doesn’t teach you shit.”

He climbs onto the bed, looming on his knees above you. You try to wriggle your arms free, but the rope behind your back is tight against your wrists. You meet his eyes as a cold sweat overtakes you. 

He laughs, the bastard. Standing on his knees above you, he undoes the buttons of his trousers one by one. He yanks his shirt up his abdomen before peeling his trousers down to his knees, one hand stroking his hardening cock.

You scream again but gagged as you are, your efforts are in vain.

Hands return to your thighs. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying hard to close your legs, but strong fingers move up to your thighs again and shove your knees apart. Fabric is pushed, higher, higher. The hem of your chemise is hiked over your hips, baring your naked skin to your captor. He lets the fabric go and it pools around your ribcage. 

Tears burst from your eyes as you begin to hyperventilate behind the gag. 

“Pretty miss.”

You feel the blunt head of his cock push against your opening, insistently demanding entry. A sob wracks your body as the man above you grunts, pressing hard against you. A piercing pain flashes through your hips, and the opening of your cunt burns as he breaches you, the head of his cock forcing his way in. You’re not prepared for anything like this, and the drag of his skin against yours is a pain like you’ve never felt before.

He groans in pleasure, pushing further into you, and tears continue to spill from your eyes as the pain worsens. He presses his whole body down on yours, your arms screaming in pain as they are forced into an unnatural angle beneath both your body and his.

You thought the burning would never end, the scraping of your inner walls, but the man finally bottoms out, and with a pleasurable moan, he thrusts himself fully inside you, his pubic bone hard against your own. 

He rolls his hips, pulling out slightly, and pushing back in. In some small mercy, your body has betrayed you, and your cunt becomes wet enough that the pain becomes less and less excruciating. The energy, the fight, the fire you had, it all seems to have left you, with each heinous thrust of your captor into you, your body becomes more and more limp. Your soul crushed with each squelching noise and moan from the man atop you.

He continues on, and you turn your head, staring at the wall. It’s all you can do, focus on the crack in the beam supporting the structure. Your body moves back and forth on the bed as he rolls his hips against yours, thrusting in and out, in and out. He looms over you, his arms bracketing in your head, hips mashed together, warm skin on warm skin. If it weren’t so painful, so raw, so violating , it would remind you of lovers past, tangled up in bedsheets and limbs.

But this feels like it’s never going to end. It feels like hours that he takes you, each push of his body into yours is a little less of you left.

“Fuck , you’re tight, woman.” He grits out, thrusting harder into you, more erratically, “So g-good.”

Thankfully, he finally pulls out of you, stroking himself to completion, and spatters his spend over your mound.

He grunts as he rolls off of you, stumbling off the bed and pulling his pants back up. He redoes his belt without looking at you.

“You’ll be a popular one ‘mongst the boys, with a tight little cunny like that.”

You stare at the wall, unable to think, unable to move. Your chemise lays limply on your stomach and your legs hang open, your muscles scream against the abuse.

“Maybe later I’ll fuck ye in the ass, surely yer even tighter there.” The man reaches over and grabs a handful of your behind from the side as if to stake his claim.

You just close your eyes. He removes his hand from your skin as he mumbles something. The door opens and closes to the bedroom of this small cabin. You're left alone, your cunt aching, arms protesting, voice hoarse. 

What seems like hours later, you hear a loud commotion outside the door. A violent crack pierced the night. You pray that it’s not more men coming to violate you further, tears flowing from your eyes again. You’re unable to find the strength to do anything. You can’t endure this endlessly. Maybe they will have mercy on you and kill you.

The door bursts open.

You are barely able to raise your head, but you make eye contact with the room’s new occupant. It is not your captor, nor any of his green-scarved comrades.

No, it is a lumbering man with honeyed hair and a black hat you’d recognize anywhere.

“Jesus Christ.”

Close, but Arthur Morgan is the closest you could get to a savior right now.

He slams the door behind him.

You cannot do anything but stare, your limbs don’t work, and your muscles protest. Even your neck gives out, and your head lays back on the bed, a strangled noise coming from your throat.

That’s how Arthur finds you. Bound and gagged, sprawled out on a dirty bed. Stripped to a chemise, hiked up over your hips. Your legs open, another man’s drying spend splattered in the dark hair shrouding your cunt. All you can do is stare at the ceiling with cold and broken eyes.

Arthur rushes over to you, throwing his rifle to the floor. It clatters in the silence of the room. He grabs the hem of your chemise, pulling it down over your thighs to give you some semblance of modesty, before grabbing his knife and cutting the fabric tied around your jaw.

You take a shuddering breath, and turn your eyes to the ceiling, unable to look at him. He leans over you and takes his knife to the ropes binding your wrists. They snap, and you somehow find the strength to whip your arms to your front and curl your knees into your chest, trying to make yourself small.

Arthur slowly, carefully places his hand on your shoulder, and you shiver under his touch, a sob escaping your mouth. 

“Darlin’.”

Your head, tucked into your knees, raises, and your eyes, full of tears, find his. He stares down at you with such gentleness, but in those blue eyes, a sadness, a fear glimmers.

Your face crumbles as you sob again. Arthur quickly sheds his brown leather jacket and lays it over your shoulders. He sits down on the bed next to you. 

“C’mon, let’s get you back to camp.”

“N-no.” You stutter. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this was terrifying.  You can’t take the stares of the others. You couldn’t take the fawning of the other women, the clucking of Susan as a mother hen when one of her girls gets hurt. Hosea’s pitying expression. Dutch’s righteous anger. You couldn’t take the pity, the tutting, the attention.

“I don’t- I don’t want to go back there tonight.”

You don’t want to go back there dressed only in a chemise, horseless, with tear-stained cheeks. It would be obvious to everyone what happened.

“Alright. Okay. We’ll figure it out. But we gotta get out of here. Ain’t no tellin’ when anyone else’ll be back.” Arthur looks over his shoulder at the door to the bedroom. 

He moves from the bed, taking his rifle and slinging it over his shoulder. You pull his jacket around your shoulders tighter. He moves about the room, surveying out a dirty window before grabbing your repeater from the chair and swinging it over his shoulder as well.

“Stay there. I’ll be right back.”

He unholsters his revolver from his belt, pushing the door open and shutting it quickly behind him. 

You swipe at your eyes in the silence with the back of your palm. You barely have enough time to collect yourself before  Arthur swings the door open and you jolt. He reholsters his revolver and moves toward the bed. 

“C’mon, got the horse out front. Let’s get outta here.”

Without letting you stand; or even question him, he swings his arms around your frame, hoisting you from the bed as if you were nothing. One arm hooks under your knees, the other behind your back.  You allow it. Normally, you would scoff at being treated like some damsel.

But things weren’t normal now.

Arthur’s heavy steps echo through the cabin as he moves quickly, out the door of the bedroom and through the main room, which was in just as much of a state of disarray. In moments he’s passed through the front door, onto the porch for a step, and into the glen where a ramshackle camp had been set up.

The moon shines bright in the sky. It must be close to midnight.

You peer over Arthur’s shoulder as he moves away from the structure. A crumbled body lays on the porch, contorted in an unnatural position. The bloodied face of your captor stares back at you, a bullet hole between his eyes. You close your eyes and turn away, leaning your head onto Arthur’s collarbone.

His arms tighten around you as you release an audible, shuddering breath.

-

Arthur swings the mare to the north of Valentine, westward to avoid any other bandits in Cumberland, skirting the cliffs along the Dakota.

The blue waters of the river gently rush by as Arthur slows his mare to a walk, her heavy breathing loud in the night as she’s worked up a lathing sweat on her coat. 

You’re astride the saddle, Arthur’s jacket wrapped around your frame, fit securely against him, where he holds you tightly with one arm across your stomach and one hand fisted in the reins as he sits behind you.

He allows the horse to splash several steps into the waters before she stops to lean her head down to the river.

You look at the water for a moment as the mare drinks her fill.

“Can- can we stop here?”

He pulls on the reins, urging his mare back toward the bank of the river. She whinnies with discontent. “What d’ya need?”

The arm around your stomach tightens its hold briefly.

“I… I want to wash off.” You say softly, almost too soft for him to hear it. But he does, his mouth pulled into a straight, serious line.

“Course.” He says, voice gruff.  Arthur swings his leg back over the horse’s rump, his spurs jingle as his boots hit the ground. He gently places his hands on your waist, slowly, assuredly pulling you from the horse.

“D’ya need-”

“No. I’m fine.” You interject, not able to meet his eyes. You shrug off his jacket and press it toward him, he takes it as you turn away, walking barefoot toward the riverbank. You slowly edge around stones along the shoreline, trying to save your feet from any sharp edges.

You slowly wade into the water, not bothering to strip yourself of the chemise you’re wearing. Arthur turns away, stepping back from the riverbank.

You wade out several steps until the water laps at your knees. You gather the soaking wet hem of your chemise and pull it above your hips with one hand, the other one cupping water and bringing it up to your cunt, rinsing away the viscous reminder of your violation. 

You openly sob, shaking, as you drop the hem of your chemise and start to sink further into the water. You vaguely hear splashing behind you and before you know it, you’re lifted out of the water.

Arthur walks you back to dry land, his arms looped protectively behind your back and under your knees. He places you gently on an overturned log next to the tree where he’d hitched the horse.

“Sweetheart, you’re gonna freeze in just your underthings like that.” Arthur places his leather jacket around your shoulders again. You can’t stop crying, your voice cracking over shuddering breaths.

“P-please don’t take me back to c-camp.” You stutter, shivering, voice cracking as tears spill down your cheeks unbidden.

Arthur sighs, taking his hat off his head to wipe his forehead. He places it back on his head before looking around. 

“How about I get you a room in Valentine for the night? I’ll buy you a new dress ‘nd then we can figure it out.”

You nod, swiping the back of your hand over your cheeks in a sad attempt to dry your eyes. Another shuddering breath escapes you.

He patiently helps you climb onto the horse’s saddle, settling himself in behind you and leading the mare away from the riverbank. The moon hangs high in the sky as the hour churns later, closer to midnight as you reach the road eastward to Valentine. Over the hours, the sky darkens, clouds moving to obscure the light of the moon as thunder rumbles in the distance, a storm rolling in from the mountains.

Arthur curses under his breath as the wind blows in the scent of rain. Still another hour to Valentine, even pushing the horse at an uncomfortable pace. He pulls you closer to his body as fat drops of rain begin to fall.

By the time you reach Valentine, the roads are choked with mud and a soaking rain pours from the sky. You shiver under Arthur’s coat as he urges the mare around the back of the Saints Hotel. He slides off the saddle of the horse, looking up at you. 

“I’ll go get a room. You can meet me at the back door over there.” He says before pulling you down off the horse by your waist, putting you on the ground gently. You shuffle his coat to cover your head as he hitches the horse to a post.

Your feet squelch in the mud as you make your way to the back wooden stairs, waiting for Arthur to return. It's only a few moments before he does, rounding the corner in the night like a man on a mission.

“Here”, he presses a key into your hand, “second door on up the steps. I’m gonna go down to the general store ‘fore it closes to get some clothes and food.”

Arthur pulls a revolver out of his belt, pressing that in your hand as well. “Don’t open the door for anyone but me.” 

You nod gravely, pulling his jacket tighter around you. As the rain falls, you slowly make your way up the stairs, and Arthur watches you enter the hotel before turning down the muddy street toward the store.

You pad quietly down the hall, reaching the door Arthur had mentioned and inserting the key into the lock. The door swings open and you quickly shut it behind you.

You place Arthur’s jacket over a chair, tucking the revolver into a pocket, and rub your arms as you move closer to the fireplace. Fortunately, with the weather, the hotel staff had kept the fire lit. The room was small, the wallpaper fading, but for Valentine, it was the best one could get. You survey the room before landing in the mirror, finally looking at yourself.

The mirror reflects a ghastly sight, and your dirty, threadbare chemise does little to shield you. Your hair is half out of its braid, plastered to your skin. Your feet are covered in mud, shoeless as you are. Red-rimmed eyes betray you in the reflection.

You grit your teeth and yank the chemise off of you, throwing it in the fireplace with a groan of frustration. The fabric, though wet in areas, quickly caught aflame.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, breathing heavily. Searching your reflection, you look for something , some mark, some scar, some kind of wound that showed what you had been through. Your kind, outlaws, wore scars like badges of honor. Javier’s dance with the gallows painted on his neck. John’s bout with wolves across his face. Bullet wounds and stab marks are a testament to the survival of this kind of life.

You sigh, tears escaping your eyes again. As you look over your nude form, you grit your teeth. There was nothing, other than some chafing on your wrists from ropes and fading redness on your cheek.

Your hand starts to shake as you lift it from where it hangs at your side. A shaky breath, a barely concealed sob, the popping of the fire, that’s all the sound that exists in this room. Your shaking fingers move to the cradle of your hips, to the hair over your mound. Your index finger presses inward, parting the seam of your core as you wince. You’re swollen, and as you trace up to the opening of your cunt, you gasp aloud in pain, pulling your finger back from your irritated skin.

Your gasp melts into a full-blown sob as you sink to the floor in front of the fireplace.  You weep, pulling your knees into your chest, trying to block out the memory of the man’s hands on you, his length inside you.

Trying to block out the look on Arthur’s face when he found you.

-

You wrapped yourself in a blanket and sat in front of the fire. Three quick raps on the door pull you from your fugue joltingly.

“Hey, it’s me.”

You stumble up, pulling the blanket closer around yourself, and unlock the door. You back away from it as it swings open, Arthur stepping in with his arms full of wrapped packages. He moves past you and deposits them on the bed, before turning back toward the door.

“I’ll let you dress. There’s plenty of food here. I’m going to take the horse just outside of town and camp there.”

Fear creeps into you. “B-but…”

Arthur turns and looks at you.

“P-please don’t go.” Your eyes water over again as you clutch the blanket closer to yourself.

“Are y’ sure?” He asks, pulling his hat off and shaking the excess water from it.

“I’d like you here.” You whisper.

“Whatever you need. I’ll do whatever you need.” He replies quietly, eyes trained on yours for a moment, sincerity in those blue-green pools.

He steps toward the fireplace, moving to kick off his boots and leave them by the door.

“I’ll… I won’t look.” He mutters, pulling a chair from next to the door and placing it in front of the fireplace, taking a seat and rubbing at his forehead tiredly.

You shuffle back toward the bed and unwrap the package Arthur placed there - a simple grey dress, long-sleeved with petticoats and a new chemise lay folded underneath the brown paper. You drop the blanket and let it puddle on the floor, dressing yourself in the clothes quickly.

“T-thank you. I’ll have to pay you for these.” You murmur softly, tying the last fastening on the skirt before turning around and facing him.

He nods his head in the negative, but continues staring at the fire. “No y’ don’t. It’s fine.”

You look around the room forlornly, but finally, exhaustion begins to set in. You sit on the bed and the wooden frame creaks under your weight.

“Y’okay?” Arthur does finally turn around and look at you, concern alight in his eyes.

It takes you a moment to respond.

The twinge in your hips, the hoarseness of your voice. The chafed skin of your wrists, the overextension of your muscles. The memory, weighing you down like an anchor.

You’re so tired.

“No.”

You can barely recognize your own voice. He certainly can’t. You don’t wait for a response as you move to lie down in the bed, turning away from him.

Arthur watches you settle in, pulling the worn blanket over yourself. Sighing to himself, he turns back to the fire, pulling his hat off and running his hand through his hair.

He shoulda killed that man slowly.

-

You awaken in bits, blinking into existence. Slowly accumulating to your surroundings, you press yourself up into a sitting position, finding yourself on the bed in a hotel room. Arthur is across the room, sleeping in a chair, his legs propped up on a chest, his hat over his face. The fireplace smolders with the last bit of embers from the night. Sunlight filters in through the dusty lace curtains.

Swinging your legs down to the floor, you wince slightly as the bed’s frame creaks loudly. Arthur jolts in his chair, his hat falling to the ground.

“Sorry…sorry-” you whisper, knowing how miserable it is to be woken suddenly.

“`S fine,” Arthur mutters, covering his mouth with his palm as he yawns.

You rub your upper arms quickly to warm yourself up, staring at the empty fireplace.

“Y’ want to go back to camp?” Arthur’s voice pierces the stillness that had settled in the room.

“Y-yes. I think so,” you pause, “Arthur…”

“Mm?” He doesn’t look up from pulling on his boots.

“Please don’t…. Don’t tell anyone.”

He stops, looking up at you. “Course,” nodding gruffly, a serious expression on his face. He places his hat on his head and throws his brown jacket over his shoulders. He moves toward the fireplace, grabbing the rifle and repeater balanced against the frame, and slinging them both over his shoulder.

“A-Arthur…” you pipe up again, your voice small, “I don’t, I don't have shoes.”

Arthur raises his eyebrows before cursing under his breath after looking at your feet, partially obscured by your skirts. “ Shit , lemme… Lemme go down to the store and get some.”

“I have more at camp. You don't have to. We’re goin’ straight there, right?”

He nods, and you make toward the door, “Just… check out and I’ll meet you around back.”

“Alright, I‘ll just be a minute.” He gruffly nods, grabbing the key to the door and heading out. You hear his heavy footsteps make their way down the hall and the stairs.

You sigh, straightening your skirts, and look yourself over in the mirror for a moment. Was it obvious? Did you look different? Would people know?

It would not do to dwell. You move to the door, open it, and quietly relatch it before quickly moving down the hall and out the back door, rounding the raised deck to the old staircase behind the hotel. The wooden stairs creak under you, as you carefully pad down to the enclosed yard behind the hotel.  You cringe when you look at the wet, muddy ground between you and Arthur’s horse, several feet away, hitched to a post outside the hotel’s property.

Arthur rounds the corner from the front and looks at you standing on the last stair. You frown, “I’ll be right there.”

The outlaw doesn't take that answer. Rolling his eyes, he stalks toward you, his boots squelching in the mud.

“Wait, Arthur-”

He picks you up like a sack of potatoes, over his shoulder, your behind high in the air as he turns toward his mare several feet away.

You screech indignantly, “Put me down, you big oaf!”

“I'm sure your ladyship doesn't want to be in the mud with us low-lives.” He snorts, reaching his mare after passing through the soggy ground.

“I swear , Arthur-”

Arthur heaves you forward, and you grunt in surprise as you land on the rump of the horse, his hands sliding to your waist to steady you. Your hands fly to his shoulders for more support.

For a moment, everything was as it was. The back and forth, the playful name-calling. The blush rises on your cheeks as you feel his fingers curl ever so slightly against your waist.

And then you wince briefly, a shot of pain through your hips, and Arthur pulls back his hands as if they burned you. 

“ Shit , I didn’t-” he stutters, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

“Wasn’t you. Wasn’t you.” You reply quietly, your hands leaving his shoulders.

He frowns, his eyes moving from you to the ground, where the horse’s hooves stamp lightly; the mare irritated by Arthur’s jolting.

Arthur runs his hand down the mare’s neck, leaning in to whisper something in her ear, calming her. He takes another look at you, his mouth drawn in a tight line.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

-

The return to camp is blessedly uneventful. You even manage to slip in without anyone noticing your bare feet. You are able to sneak into your small tent and at least throw an old pair of boots on before anyone notices you’ve returned.

Charles speaks to you first, having found your gelding making his way back to camp. You’re able to craft a story about being bucked outside of Valentine, and how it was fortunate for you to be marooned so close to town, where you hung around knowing someone with the gang was liable to swing by. It was believable, especially with Charles knowing that your horse could still be temperamental. He doesn’t push with any further questioning.

People don’t bother you. You’re able to settle into normalcy, or at least feign it. 

The nights turn cold, and much like the spring blizzard that trapped the gang in the Grizzlies, cold winds blow down from the mountains. A day is spent hanging extra canvas on everyone’s tents to guard against the chill on the overlook.

And you find yourself staring at the pitch of your small tent in the small hours of the morning, as the campfires have burned down to embers and even the hardest drinkers have gone to bed.

You can’t sleep. Your bedroll against the ground gives you little solace as you sigh, rolling over for the umpteenth time. It’s not necessarily insomnia keeping you awake.

It’s fear. It’s been days since you returned to camp atop Arthur’s horse, and you’ve gotten sleep in fits and bursts, but one harrowing nightmare about green bandanas and a laughing voice and hands all over you has shaken your already winnowing psyche.

You roll fully to your stomach, pressing yourself up to your hands and knees. Tossing the woolen blanket you were under aside, you grab a dress from the pile of clothing and shrug it on over your chemise before crawling out of the tent.

Wrapping your arms around yourself against the cold, you quietly shuffle across the campsite toward a large wagon not far from the edge of the overlook.

Sighing, you run your hand through your hair to calm your nerves. The worst he could do would be to throw you out, right?

That would be pretty terrible, you muse as you snuck between the canvas flaps of the large tent.

“A-Arthur.” You whisper.

The outlaw shoots up in his cot, about to reach for his knife on the table next to him before he realizes it’s you.

“What is it, what’s wrong?” He grunts, his voice rough with sleep.

“I just- just… can I stay with you?”

“Sure- sure. Here,” he pulls the blanket off of him, making to stand up from his cot, “I’ll sleep on the ground.”

“N-no,” you step forward, placing your hand on his shoulder, preventing him from standing, “I-…”

You sit on the cot next to him, wringing your hands together. “It’s just… y’ make me feel safe, Arthur.”

Silence falls between you.

“I’m sorry, I should go. I shouldn’t have woken you up.”

He places a large hand over yours, stopping you from standing. He lays back down, lifting the blanket to allow you to slot yourself next to him. 

“C’mere.”

You slowly ease yourself down next to his form, a tight squeeze on the cot. As you press against him, he pulls the blanket over both of you, leaving his arm to lay over you.

It makes you feel secure. You settle in, placing one of your hands on his chest. You don’t remember falling asleep.

-

Arthur awakens with a crick in his neck. Why the hell was he sleeping on his side? Blinking awake, it only takes him a moment to realize that you’re pulled tightly against him, your head tucked under his chin, your hand lightly over his chest.

You were so full of fire and energy and life before.  Now, you're curled into him with a fear that kept you up at night.

He swears he’s gonna kill every O’Driscoll he ever comes across.

-

You fall into a sense of normalcy. Days go by, you sew and do laundry on the cliff, you help Pearson with meals, and clean up after supper. You put on a cheery face and laugh and mask everything that you’re feeling inside, and by the time night falls, you are spent, bodily and emotionally.

The camp grows quiet in the night and you sneak to Arthur’s tent, into his waiting arms. After the first two days of waking him to ask to stay, he took to waiting until you crept in, pulling you into his embrace and somehow trying to make both of you comfortable on his cot, which was a lost cause half the time.

But you sleep. You actually sleep. Unlike the first few days of staring at the pitch of your tent, you get well-needed rest in this space.

Arthur’s turned the lantern down low, and sits in his cot clad in his union suit, sketching in his journal when you enter the tent, your long coat tight around your shoulders.

He quickly tosses the journal aside and stands up, moving toward you to help you slide the coat from your frame.

“Y’didnt need to s-stop.” You stutter, your teeth chattering. 

“Was just waitin’ for you anyways.” He replies, placing your coat over the chest at the end of his cot. He pulls you toward the bed as he sits down, first moving to get himself comfortable, pulling the woolen blanket that was piled at the end of the bed over his frame. He lifts the blanket, motioning for you to crawl in. 

It's a practiced movement at this point, for the past several nights, you and he have worked through awkward arms and elbows, sleeping positions that do not work, to what does.

You curl in next to him; your head laying on the curve of his shoulder.

“How did you know to find me?” You whisper, hand firmly on his chest. Your eyes can't meet his.

Arthur frowns. “I knew I shoulda just come wit’ you. I shoulda trusted my gut.”

One of his large hands moves to tuck an unruly strand of hair behind your ear. Finally, you're able to meet his eyes, those azure pools you would happily drown yourself in.

“Went to Valentine. Saw some O’Driscolls hauntin’ about. Figured I would go ruin their day. Heard ‘em talking about a new spot they had up in Cumberland.”

You swallow. You know how the story ends from here.

“ ‘M sorry, sweetheart. I shoulda been there for you.” His hand moves from behind your ear to cup your cheek, “I didn’t keep you safe.”

“Ain’t your fault.” You quietly reply back. Before he can retort back, you bury yourself in closer to him, pressing your forehead into the hollow of his neck.  

“I promise, I’ll never let anythin’ happen to you again. I swear.” His rough voice whispers into your ear as he winds his arms tighter around you.

It’s a nice thought. Here, in his small cot, wrapped up in his large frame, you certainly do feel safe. But you know, you’re criminals, outlaws, robbers. There’s no way to keep that promise.

But you’ll allow it for now, at least.

-

He catches you staring out over the cliff, off into the distance, and the winding Dakota valley. It's still a cold and chilly place, and this morning, after you’ve crept away from his tent and redressed in your own.

Pushing a steaming cup of coffee into your hands, he tries to follow where your gaze goes, down the valley toward the cliffs on the other side of the river, in West Elizabeth.

“How would you feel ‘bout gettin’ outta camp? Just for a night.” Arthur postures. You don't look at him, taking a sip of coffee.

“Where?” Your voice is small after you swallow.

“Somewhere o’er there?” he motions toward the area you’re looking at, across the state line, “Just thought y’might need to get away.”

You look up at him, he’s always been a full head taller than you. “Alright, Arthur. When can we go?”

“Now, if you wanna. Already told Dutch I was gonna look up a lead over near the train station.”

Before you know it, you’re atop your gelding following Arthur down the trail toward the river, your repeater strapped to your back as if things were normal, you were heading out on a job. But you and he know, things have been anything but normal.

You travel for most of the day, down and up valleys and under the shadow of Mount Shann. There isn't much conversation, the plodding of the horse’s hooves taking up most of the air around.

As the afternoon sun begins to wane, Arthur brings his mare to a stop, “Let’s settle in here for the night.” he nods toward an open glen not far off the trail, obviously used as a campsite in the past, the charred remains of a fire in the middle of the clearing.

You bring your gelding toward the glen, and wordlessly, you two unpack and begin to set up a small camp. Arthur sets up a small tent while you gather kindling for the campfire.

By the time you return with a handful of kindling, Arthur is clearing out the ashes from the last fire. You place the branches on the ground next to him, and he takes pieces and arranges them before pulling a matchbook from his satchel, which he has tossed against a large overturned log.

In the silence, he gets the fire started and moves from a crouch to sit on the log, an arm’s length away from the growing flames.

You stand opposite him, unmoved since you returned to the camp.

“Can I ask you something?” You say, eyes still on the fire he’s stoking. It's the first you've spoken since leaving Horseshoe.

“Course,” he grunts, adding another piece of wood to the flames.

“Will you… touch me?”

A long exhale.

“Darlin’, I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”

“Oh- I… I’m sorry. I…” 

He couldn’t want you, not anymore. The way he saw you. Of course he doesn’t want to touch you after seeing you like that. You’re damaged goods .

You hang your head in defeat, cheeks blazing red. A sense of shame crawled over you as your vision clouded over with unshed tears. Before all this, the teasing back and forth, the heated glances, the good-natured ribbing… it was all gone. 

“Darlin’….I don’t want to hurt you. You…you’re hurtin’ sweetheart, I don’t want to be the one hurtin’ you more.”

“I don’t want him to be the last person who touched me!”

You clap a hand over your mouth, surprised at your outburst.

“ ‘M sorry, I-I’ll go now-”

“Darlin’. It ain’t- I ain’t… surely, you can have a better man than me touch you.  I ain’t a good man.”

“But I want it to be you, Arthur. I- I feel safe with you. You’re… you’re… I… I choose you.”

He looks at you with a pained expression.

“Please, Arthur. I…want to forget. I want to forget … his hands on me….” You shudder, “I want this to be my choice.”

Silence.

“…And I want you to choose me too.” Your voice drops into a low murmur as you stare at the ground. You’ve bared the last thing you’re hiding from him. He’s now seen and heard everything. He’s seen you at your worst, your lowest. 

“Darlin’ girl. You’ve always been my choice.” 

From his spot sitting on the overturned log, he reaches for your hand, dwarfing it in his own. His rough and calloused fingers close around yours.

“I never want to be the one hurtin’ you. I don’t know if you’re ready for this.” His thumb runs over your knuckles gently. You finally meet his eyes.

“ Please.”

Something in Arthur breaks, it cracks like a piece of porcelain. He gently places his hands on your waist, pulling you toward him. “Tell me what it is you want.”

“ You, Arthur.”

“C’mere,” he says, guiding you down to his lap, where you perch on his thigh, “we’re gonna go slow. You tell me right away if you wanna stop.”

Your hand moves to his jaw, and you lean in and press your lips against his. One of his hands finds the back of your head, the other splayed out on your lower back, as he gently presses his tongue against your lips, urging them to open to him.

You open your lips with a contented sigh and allow him to pull you even closer into his embrace, his tongue pressing against yours insistently. You don't know how many times you had envisioned this, before the O’Driscoll, when things were a bit simpler.

His hand slowly moves from your lower back to your behind, and he tests the waters by giving it a gentle squeeze. You yelp happily into his mouth, your hips moving over his thigh of their own accord, shifting in his lap. He gives a grunt of approval and squeezes your rear again.

Your hands find purchase around his shoulders, digging into the leather of his jacket. In one roll of your hips over his lap, your thigh juts up against his growing erection, hard and hot under you. In response, he bucks his hips up, to press against your thighs, chasing some kind of relief for his burgeoning cock.

You moan, loudly, into his mouth. He pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily. You’re also panting, your eyes meeting.

A question lays unasked between you, the inches between your wet lips and his, the twitching of his fingers against your rear, the hardness of his cock under your thighs. The dampness blooming between your legs.

You push yourself up against his shoulders, standing from his lap. He looks at you, questioning, his hands moving up to your waist.

“Please.” You say, stepping back from him and his arms fall to rest on his knees. You move toward the tent he had set up and look back at him anxiously as you lower yourself to your knees in front of the opening.

He shoots up from his seat, assuaging your fears.

You scoot back into the tent and lay yourself on the bedroll, watching intently as Arthur shrugs off his jacket and leaves it on the ground just next to the campfire. His gun belt clatters to the ground, clinking as it falls. He drops his hat at the mouth of the tent as he sinks to his knees to enter.

Arthur moves into the tent, his large stature overtaking most of the room in the small tent. He pauses, on his knees, and doesn’t move any further. 

“Y’ sure you want this?” He asks, his voice low, but sincerity shines through.

You balance yourself on one elbow and reach with your other arm toward him, beckoning him to crawl over you. You kick your boots off and toss them to the side of the tent. He takes his off as well, spurs clinking as they fall to the ground.

Almost hesitantly, he leans over you, his arms bracketing in your shoulders and his knees on either side of yours. You meet him halfway, pressing your lips to his while throwing your arm around his neck, guiding him down over you. You lay out on the bedroll as he trails his lips from yours, leaving kisses down your jaw.

He suckles gently at your earlobe, and you moan in response. One of his callused hands cups your breast through your shirt, kneading it gently. Your hand flies to his hair, carding through it as you begin to pant.

Arthur looks at you, waiting, patient, and you open your knees slowly, letting him trail his hand up your thigh. He watches for any sign of discomfort, any hesitance, any fear, or pain.

He finds none, and presses forward, trailing his hands up, up to dust your inner thighs. You give a pleased sigh as he moves toward your center, bucking your hips slightly when he presses against your clothed core. Your bloomers quickly become even more damp under his ministrations. 

You push at his suspenders, peeling them down his arms as his hands work to untangle themselves from your skirts.

Arthur sits up, pulling at the buttons of his black shirt and shrugging it off, reaching his union suit underneath. 

You let out a breath, watching him unbutton the waffle-knit long underwear, with each button, more and more of his skin is bared to your stare. Pale underneath his clothes, his chest is scarred and marked and covered in wiry dark hair.

By the time he has undone all of the buttons on his union suit to his waist and peeled his arms from the fabric, he notices that you have made no move to disrobe.

“Y’alright?”

You slowly nod, averting your eyes from his frame.

“You wanna stop?” Arthur reaches out to you, placing a finger under your chin, gently tipping your chin up to bring your eyes back to his.

“How could you want me after that?”

“Oh, sweetheart….”

You pull away from him, whipping your head toward the tent’s opening. You place a hand over your forehead and release a ragged breath.

“I wanted you when I taught you how to shoot. I wanted you when you kicked my ass at dominoes. I wanted you each and ev’ry time you shared my tent. I want you now, ain’t nothin’ gonna change that.” Arthur places his hands on his knees as he moves to sit next to the bedroll. 

“Y’sure?” You ask, your previous confidence waning. 

Arthur chuckles, motioning to his crotch. “You want me to prove it to ya?”

You blink - indeed, his cock swells against his work pants as he shucks his boots off. You’re staring, again, at the bulge in his pants, held back by a measly few buttons.

You look up to his eyes again, and there’s such kindness, such truth, such gentleness, that your fears and reservations are assuaged. You reach for the buttons of your blouse, threading them through their eyes as he returns to stand on his knees in front of you; undoing the buttons of his trousers, opening the fly.

“Lemme show you how much I want you, woman.” His voice is low, cut like rough-hewn stone, and the reverberations go straight to your cunt.

You shed your shirt, tossing it in a corner of the tent out of reach. You begin to unlace your skirt as you hear the rustling of fabrics together and glance up to see Arthur rid himself of his pants, leaving only his half-undone union suit on his body. The fabric clings to every inch of him, every carved muscle and tendon, every bit of sinew binding this man together. His cock strains against the cotton. 

Your skirt is tossed toward the corner of the tent where your shirt is crumpled.

“C’n I help ya?” He whispers, chest heaving.

“Yeah…yeah.”

He reaches forward as you lean back, his hands finding your waist and working on the fastenings of your petticoats. They slide from your waist and you move your hips to let him pull them from your body.

You pull your chemise over your head, baring your breasts to him, clad only in your bloomers. You see him swallow, his eyes scanning your frame. He removes his hands from you and starts to undo the last three buttons of his union suit. You recline, watching him, letting him take the initiative to bare himself completely.

He threads the buttons through their eyelets and pushes the fabric down from his waist. His eyes are on you, gauging your reaction, as he pushes the suit down, down over his hips, shoving the cotton down his thighs.

His large cock springs upward, framed by chestnut curls, his balls hanging heavy between his thighs. You look back up at his face, and your thumbs hook into the waistband of your bloomers and start sliding them down your thighs. You are both rid of the clothing in moments.

“God, yer beautiful,” Arthur murmurs, his hands tightly at his side, holding himself back.

“Touch me. ” You whisper, laying down on his bedroll.  Arthur leans forward, crawling on top of you, placing one forearm next to your head to balance himself. His other hand traces your jaw before he lowers his head to catch your lips.

It’s gentle, surprising you. Arthur Morgan is a man made of violence and brute strength. You’ve seen him tear men apart and beat them stupid. You’ve seen him kill and maim and shoot and stab, but now, here with you, his hand traces down your neck, your chest, across your breasts, down, down to the cradle of your hips. All as he slots his lips against yours, gently, so gently opening them so that his tongue can press against yours, a low rumble echoing from his chest.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, moaning weakly into his mouth as his fingers snake between your thighs, gently pushing them apart. A single finger presses into the seam of your body, and you cry out in pleasure as he moves that finger up and down it. He grunts as he coats his fingers in your wetness, your eagerness for him.

It goes on for minutes, hours, years? You don’t know. But it’s so different, to be lost in pleasure instead of pain. Arthur presses into you and you touch him, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it slowly. Whispered, urgent words pour from your mouths, interspersed with moans of pleasure.

Settling between your hips, he braces his arms on either side of your head, and you feel the hot length of him press against your inner thigh. Wanting you. Needing you.

He leans in to kiss your brow. “Still alright?”

You nod, pressing your lips on his jaw quickly. He groans in response, pressing his hips forward.

The head of his cock nudges against your opening. Your eyes widen, and immediately, his hand finds your face, cupping your cheek gently. “We can stop, we don’t gotta do this.”

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, “I wanna be yours, Arthur.”

“You can be mine and we don’t have to do this, sweet girl.”

“You still wanna do this…right?”

“More than anythin’.” He confesses, “but we do what you want. There’s plenty of time.”

“Please. Please , I want you, Arthur.”

He presses forward, gently as possible. He doesn’t force. He doesn’t buck. He leans heavily on one elbow and draws one hand down your frame, fingers tracing across a pebbled nipple, your soft belly, and the cradle of your hips. He raises his hips only slightly, snaking his hand right to where your bodies meet, to where you’re stretched taut around him. He finds the bundle of nerves of your pleasure, rubbing it in circles. You gasp, a high keening moan he has to immediately smother with his lips. He continues his ministrations, and your eyes flutter closed, your hands moving to his back, nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin.

He groans, pulling back from your lips to breathe before laying his forehead against yours. Taking a breath, he pushes his hips down on you, fully sheathing his cock in your core. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t burn. It’s not anything like before. You’re left with the sensation of being filled, warm, and secure underneath him. 

“Y’okay?” He whispers, pressing his lips to your cheek briefly. One of his hands runs through your hair, brushing it back from your forehead. 

“ Yes,” you breathe back, “you’re so good…”

He smiles, and you’re smitten by the way the wrinkles at the edge of his eyes move. Arthur rolls his hips, sliding his cock inside you, and thrusting back, a long, slow stroke. You both moan as Arthur presses his face into the balled-up blanket next to your head, trying to suffocate the whine he is unable to keep to himself. One of your hands works up his neck to the nape, carding your fingers through the hair there. 

His arms move to brace on either side of your head, and you cross your ankles over his hips as he raises his head above yours again. His jaw hangs open as he rolls his hips, moving both of your bodies atop the bedroll. You arch your back, throwing your head back on the blanket, baring your neck to him, where he leans in and places open-mouthed kisses on your skin. 

Your breath becomes faster, high-pitched whines escaping your throat as he continuously rolls his hips into yours.

“A-Arthur…” you stutter, half whisper, half pleading.

He pushes himself up, looming over you with his hands planted firmly on the bedroll, on either side of your shoulders. He takes you in, your pupils blown, a red flush creeping down your neck and chest. Your breath devolves into panting.

“Oh sweet thing, gonna come for me?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut as your hands move to clench his forearms. “Y-yes, yes - I’m gonna-”

A gasp tumbles from your lips when you feel him shift above you, a calloused thumb finding its way back to the hooded skin over your bundle of nerves, pressing in light circles on it as he continues thrusting into you at a clipped pace.

“I, oh god- keep goin’- don’t stop.” You cry, trying to keep the volume down as tears collect at the corners of your eyes. The stimulation of Arthur’s hand on your pleasure and the incessant roll of his hips sends you reeling.

“Tha’s it, come for me, darlin’…”

You thrust your hips upward, arching the small of your back as the wave hits you. Arthur covers your mouth with his own to stifle the keening cry you emit as every muscle fiber in your body clenches at once.

The glide of his cock as he rocks into you becomes even smoother as your slick covers it, warm and wet and cloying against his balls and all over your thighs. 

Arthur groans into your mouth, pressing himself against you fully, crushing you into his chest, the entire length of his frame against yours.

He grunts out the syllables of your name as his thrusts become more erratic. He wants to spend inside you, so much , but that was a step too far, an irresponsible chasing of pleasure, an intimacy he has not earned with you. But the idea is planted in his mind, and as he courts that precipice, he can only think about how it would feel. Thrusting deep inside your warm body, feeling the constriction of your inner walls against his length. Maybe he’d be lucky enough and you’d come too, the spasming of your core drawing him over that edge, pouring himself into you.  

“T-tell me where-” he grits out into your ear, panting.

You doom him with your reply. A death sentence, his life finally catching up with him. A merciless finality in high-pitched whispers.

“M-make me yours, Arthur-” you whine breathily.

He can feel the coil tightening low in his gut as he continues to thrust, grunting with exertion, trying not to plunge over that cliff just yet. 

“Mine.” He grits out, pushing his hips deep into yours, and finally the rope snaps. Arthur doesn’t just fall off the precipice, he swan dives, “G-god, girl- fuck - you’re m-mine. ”

You whine, loudly , and he feels you flutter around him and he grinds himself hard against your pubic bone, releasing deep inside you, the warm spatter of him milked out by every clench of your cunt. An embarrassingly needy moan escapes him as he drapes himself over you, utterly and completely spent.

Arthur pants in your ear for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. A wet sheen of sweat has developed on your bodies, but now as the movement dies down and you both float down from your highs, you shiver slightly under him.

Arthur immediately pushes himself up, pulling his softening cock from you with a grunt, and repositioning himself to lay at your side. He draws a blanket over your nude forms, settling you in across his chest, his arm winding around your shoulder. You hum, satisfied, satiated, warm, and happy .

“You feelin’ okay, sweetheart?”

“Better now.” You sigh into his chest, your ear pressed over his heart, thrumming steadily in his chest.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You smile and nod your head against him, “Not at all.”

He places a kiss on the crown of your head.

“Good. I’d like to do that more often, if you’ll have me.”

You press your hand over his pectoral, lifting yourself to fully look at him, your hair a messy curtain over both of you. 

“I am yours now, Mister Morgan. Said it yourself.” You whisper with a grin.

Arthur’s other hand lightly traces up the ridges of your spine, “Means I’m yours too, beautiful girl.”

The blooming soreness in your hips doesn’t burn, it doesn't hurt. Arthur's large hands press against your skin, warm and secure. His frame dwarves yours, but in his arms, you feel safe. Dare say it, loved.

For this moment, at least, the world does not exist outside the tent. For this moment, at least, you can chase the demons out of your mind and slowly start to heal from the experience.

You know you’ll have Arthur next to you.

You smile, tucking your head into the curve of his neck.

“I like the sound of that.”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption #arthur morgan x reader #red dead fanfic #red dead smut #18+ minors dni #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan smut #passerine #twolafic #ao3 #rdr2 fandom

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and worst of both worlds (part 12)

Tw: injury, yandere and monty just being a creep

the University option was 60% wben the votes were 20, idk y suddenly u guys decided to favour 5 blocks away from ur house too

Damn from what i seen theres like distinct team monty and team Yves, ngl as writer i am biased towards Yves he my favourite

Part 13

You told him that you need to go to class.

Montgomery frowned. "If ya' say so." He shifted his gears and began driving away.

You looked at the scenery around you. This place is definitely not somewhere you visited before, you see a few buses driving by. But none of which you recognize.

"You free during the weekends?" He asked.

You said no.

Montgomery pouted. "Well, when are you free?"

You shrugged and said being a university student is demanding.

He sighed dejectedly. "What do I know, I only have a high school diploma. Wasn't one for the books, I'd rather git' out there and make me some cash."

You stayed silent.

"You ain't built for that, it really ain't for the faint hearted. So you gotta stay in school and try your hardest, sweetheart. Follow your dreams of becoming... whatever you wanted to be."

You nodded in acknowledgement. But Montgomery kept talking.

"I came to the city 'cause I heard I can make it big there. I didn't really have a plan, I was hopin' I'd make big bucks and start my own business." He switched his blinker on as he readies himself to make a turn.

"It was totally harder than I thought. I moved from city to city, was broke in every single one and I had to live out of my car if I wanted to eat. The people, all of 'em were mean as hell no matter where I go. They're nothin' like the people back home."

Curiosity gets the best of you and you asked why didn't he just return to base.

He laughed. "I didn't wanna hear an 'I told you so' from my family. I had to fight to get out of that damn farm. I can't imagine the humiliation if I come back home, tail between my legs, empty handed."

The air between you became quiet after that.

"So... what are ya' studying?"

You tried your best to explain your degree and the profession that you're hoping to work as. Montgomery hummed in response.

"I dunno much about that. But it sure sounds stressful and too brainy for me. You're such a smart kid."

You said thanks.

"A little lackin' in the brawn department though. That's why you need me to protect ya'." He grinned. "We sure are such a great match! When I get that business idea of mine up and runnin', you're gonna be handling the books. I'll be handlin' the shop- the physical part. We're gonna be swimmin' in riches, in no time!"

You didn't respond to that, making his excited laughter die down quickly.

"...Or you could just choose what'cha wanna do. Fine by me, I'll fund it the best I can." Montgomery is starting to look uncomfortable, it seems like he's trying to make some conversation with you. But you didn't want to give him any more of your attention.

The rest of the ride went by smoothly.

__

"Sixth period, I guess." He stopped in front of the entrance. You wonder if he's confused as to why he barely sees anyone around now.

You looked at the time. It's 11:45AM. The bus is coming in 5 minutes.

"Here." He shoved something into your hands. "Treat yourself to something nice." You uncrumpled it to reveal two $20 bills.

You thanked him and pulled the handle of the door.

"Wait! I want your number!" He got out of his car and ran up to you.

You said that you don't remember and you don't have your phone with you.

"You don't remember your own phone number?" He stared in disbelief.

You said that with the advancement of technology, no one needs to remember any phone numbers. It's all stored in the smartphone.

He scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I think you should memorize at least a couple of em'. What are ya' gonna do when your phone breaks, huh? You're gonna be doomed!"

Yeah. Like how you are right now.

You tried to end the conversation by agreeing and saying bye.

"I have an idea." You yelped as he grabbed you by the wrist. He pulled out a pen and uncapped it, Montgomery wrote a string of numbers on your arm.

You can only watch as he decorated your entire forearm in horror. How are you going to explain this to Yves?

"There, that's my number."

You pulled your arm away and told him that you're going to be late for class.

"Don't forget to call me!" He hollered as you move far, far away from him.

__

Finally, $40 richer, 100% more disturbed, 200% sweatier, you reached your house. 20 minutes late.

You dragged yourself onto the porch and struck your arm repeatedly against the door. Panting with your tongue out like a dog.

You wiped the sweat off your brow as the door opened. Thinking it's one of your housemates, you tried walking past them, only to be grabbed by the shoulders.

"(Name)!"

You looked up and saw Yves with the most haunting expression you've ever seen on his beautiful yet bruised face. Half it was still concealed by his hair. There was a mix of worry, sadness, anger and relief. It was an expression that guarantees you're in trouble.

You stared at him for a few seconds, his dilated pupil never left yours. You felt like you were on a court trial during those 20 seconds, Yves seemingly scrutinizing every aspect of your soul.

You burst into tears, sobbing loudly and pathetically. You didn't know where to start, you had so many unmet needs at the moment.

You're roasting in your own skin and sunburnt, you don't even have a wink of sleep, you feel violated by Montgomery, your stomach hurts from eating the greasy fast food, your muscles are aching from that epinephrine shot, you have a headache, you don't like how your clothes stuck to your body and Yves is mad at you.

One of the needs was immediately met when he pulled you into a hug.

"I'm not upset at you." He whispered, pressing kisses on your head. You cried harder and sunk into him deeper.

Of course, he knew what happened, where you went and what Montgomery did. All of it was caught on surveillance cameras and they're easy to hack into. He heard the conversations between you and him, Montgomery should upgrade his phone, it didn't even put up a fight when he tried accessing it remotely.

All because he didn't predict that you would be anaphylactic to your new medicine. If you knew he's virtually everywhere and watching your every move, Yves would have immediately intercepted before you could even put a foot down on the floor.

Yves let you wet his clothes until you calmed down enough for him to pull you into the house, where it is much cooler and dimmer. Your nosy housemates were peeking from the hallway, but this time Yves wasn't acting so nice. He shot them all a death glare, which made them promptly retreat into their rooms.

He closes the door and leads you to the sofa. Where he allowed you to let your emotions out on his chest, while sitting on his lap.

A hand stroking the back of your head, another pulling you close to him. Yves placed his lips on your forehead as snot drips down your nose and onto Yves. He doesn't mind your sweat or skin flakes.

Yves does appreciate that Montgomery was there at the right time. When you started to rub your eyes excessively, Yves was already on the highway, doing 120 miles per hour on an 80 limit. He knows something is wrong.

Unfortunately, though, he was too late and Montgomery already drove off with you. So he had to do a detour and tailgate him instead.

He did all the calculations and thought of all the possible outcomes in his head. And... to his dismay, the best one was to let everything that happened to you happen. Yves lets go and allows Montgomery to be the hero for today for the sake of your life.

But you were never in any real danger. Yves was following closely behind this entire time. Of course, you're definitely going to be uncomfortable. However, he knows you're not stupid, he could not slip a single "coincidence" that will allow him to save you from Montgomery. It's going to be too implausible to happen given that Yves is still a relatively "normal" person in your eyes.

You hiccupped in his chest, apologizing over and over again. Yves assured you that you did nothing wrong. He reached for his bag, taking out a packet of wet wipes and dry facial tissues.

He began cleaning you with the damp towel. Yves did not flinch when you coughed right into his face and had thick, opaque mucus land on his eyelashes. He continued wiping away the snot and tears while letting a glob of green rest on his eye.

If you had lingered at the university longer, Yves would have 'coincidentally' bumped and picked you up instead. Under the guise of him searching for you because he arrived early at your place to find the front door unlocked, your bag in your room and your phone on the table. Very unusual behavior of you.

But he underestimated your desperation to catch the next bus. You have broken his records, that was the fastest you ever ran since middle school and he has the data to back it up.

Now that you're slowly relaxing, Yves removed the goop from his eye using another wet wipe. His long eyelashes clumped together from the moisture. He continued by drying you using the facial tissues, which includes drying the sweat from your back and to your rear. Who gives a damn if Yves has his hands up your shirt and down your pants, it's Yves. You trust him.

You didn't pay enough attention to wonder why he brought some aloe gel today out of all days. Yves snapped the lid open and applied a pea sized amount on his fingertips. Yves spread it evenly on your now peeling skin, you let your shoulders sag as the gel soothes the burning pain.

Montgomery proved himself useful, twice. First, by saving your life. Second, by helping Yves look much more appealing to you. Doesn't his feather-like touches feel nice? It's nothing like that brute's talons.

Yves only wished that he had half a brain to feed you something appropriate and not an artery-blocking lump of fat and sugar. Four, of them plus two grease saturated hash browns, to be precise. God, Montgomery is spineless, he should have stopped you or at least found a way to make you eat slower.

You fell limp onto him as he skillfully massaged your scalp with his fingers. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the tingles travel down your spine, causing you to forget about the soreness you've been experiencing.

Yves had a look of disdain when he caught a glimpse of Montgomery's phone number written on your arm in pen ink. He doesn't know when to quit, does he?

You never once stopped to wonder how he knew to prepare a pack of ice wrapped in a towel even before you came back. He brought the chilly item to your neck, cooling down one of your crucial points.

Yves continued massaging your head to relieve you of any tension. He ticked off his mental checklists on your needs, another thing is going to be off his list very soon.

He watches your eyelids droop until your eyes are fully closed. Now draped across his lap, you're starting to snore and drift into slumberland.

He sighed. Caressing your tender leg as you sleep.

"You are such a troublemaker." He quietly hissed. Scooping you into his strong arms.

Yves carried you into your room, where he lowered you onto your bed. He didn't put the blanket on you, because you will overheat, wake up and panic again.

He went out and retrieved his bag. Yves took out his portable fan and placed it near you, so the moving air could cool you down further. If you weren't so bashful and considerate, he would have installed a portable air conditioning unit in your room already. But he knows you will find the gesture too extravagant and start to spiral out of control with your self depreciation.

He closed the curtains, turned off the lights. The only thing illuminating the otherwise dark room are the holes in your curtains and his laptop screen.

Yves took a seat, put on his reading glasses and began typing away. One hand keying in the information, the other holding the wretched medication that hospitalized you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere male #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere oc x reader #oc yves #oc Montgomery

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter Nineteen}

Alastor x (Fem)Reader

A few days after that talk, I could feel a slight change between me and Alastor. Nothing drastic, but it was noticeable. He was more...forgiving? Easier? Though, the "no leaving the hotel without him" rule had gone unchanged. But aside from that, he had proved to be rather decent.

Sure, he could act gentlemanly, but once you got through a few walls, he actually was...well, decent. And I guess, we had a mutual understanding of each other after that talk. And a mutual agreement not to talk about either of our situations.

No matter ninety-four years ago or one year ago, it was still fresh for both of us. And well, neither of us really knew how to cope with it. And we most certainly not going to talk about it, not with each other at least...How would we even go about that? 

Anyway, me and Alastor's tolerance had steadily grown into a somewhat friendship. Though, I take "friendship" with a grain of salt. He didn't want to kill and eat me, and, he let up on the attitude and sarcasm, so that had to count for something.

In fact, he asked me something I never expected from him.

"Y/n! There you are. Listen, you're aware I am well known around these parts as a radio host, yes?" How could I not know? I learned through word of mouth, that Alastor was quite fond in broadcasting the blood curdling screams of his victims throughout Hell. I nod my head in response. "Yes?" 

"Well then, how about you join me on my next broadcast? Hm?" He asked. "Join you? As in...Join you in making people suffer? Or join you in being one of those suffering people?" I ask warily.

Alastor laughs. "Oh no, nothing of the sort. You're not ready to join me in causing such agony, nor do I want your screams being broadcasted. I'm suggesting you come and see how I do things in person." He clarifies. Oh...That's better? "Do I have to watch you torture someone?" I ask. 

Alastor rolls his eyes. "No. I'm not doing that this time, just a normal talk show is all." Alright it is better. "Oh, ok sure. I don't see why not."

Alastor's grin widened. "Lovely! I'll stop by your room tomorrow morning to pick you up. Make sure to get plenty of rest tonight, I expect you to be up bright an early alright?" 

I nod. "Alright." Alastor then pats my head gently. "Good girl." He says before walking away. I blink, trying to process what just happened. "Did he just-"

"Nothin' between you two, my ass." 

"Ah! Angel!?" I turn to face the tall spider demon. He was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, eyebrow raised. "You really expect me to believe you two are "acquaintances" after that?" I sigh. "We are, Angel." I say firmly.

"Please. The man just invited you to his radio tower for that dumb show he does. No one goes up there except for him and whatever poor soul he's decided to massacre." 

"Really?" I ask. "Yeah, and from what just happened. You ain't gonna get massacred. Maybe something else though, if you're lucky." Angel smirks. "I'm going to ignore that." I mutter. "Why hasn't he brought anyone else there?" I ask.

He only shrugs. "Smiles likes his privacy. But I guess he likes you even more." 

"Angel." I warn. "What? It's true!" Angel chuckles. I groan and begin to walk away. "I need to get some sleep Angel, goodnight." 

"Night, and make sure you two have protection! Don't need no mini Alastor's running around!" 

I groan louder before quickly walking away, trying to ignore the heat in my face. 

Just as Alastor said, he was there at my door bright and early. I yawn and stretch my wings out before placing on my necklace. I tried to smooth out my hair as best as I could, barely having time to get ready before he showed up. I opened my door, and was greeted by his signature smile. "Good morning, Y/n! I hope you slept well." 

"As well as anyone can when living in Hell." I say jokingly. Alastor chuckles before offering his arm to me. I take it with mine, and with a snap of his fingers, we were in the radio tower.

I look around. The room was fairly sized, large windows wrapping around the building and...highly likely stained with the blood of demons...

But you could get a good view of the city from up here, which was almost distracting enough from the blood stained windows. 

"So." I start. "What do you usually talk about when not slaughtering people on air?" I ask. "Oh, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise, now would I?" Alastor smirks. "Just take a seat and relax." I do as he says and sit near a window that had been the least bloody. I turn my attention back to Alastor, who was setting a few things up for himself. I had to admit, for older tech, it was impressive. And of course, all professional. 

"Are you ready for the magic to begin?" Alastor asks me. I nod and keep quiet as he starts the show. 

"Good morning sinners of Hell! This is your beloved radio host, Alastor speaking! Unfortunately, today's broadcast will be slaughter free, though, entertaining nonetheless! Seems like we're expecting some acid rain this evening, so cancel your plans or grow some teflon skin!" He ends with a laugh. His, mixed with disembodied laughter from who knows where. 

"Ah yes, I've always loved the rain. Reminds me of good times." He says softly. "It also reminds me of a wonderful song. Let's put on some tunes before we get started today, shall we?" With that, Alastor switches on an old song from his era, and mutes his microphone. He turns to me with a grin. "Well? What do you think so far?" He asks. 

"You seem to have a lot of passion for this." I tell him. "It's nice to see." 

"Why thank you, dear. Yes, I've been passionate about radio for a very, very long time. Been doing it for as long as I can remember." He tells me. "Though, things were different back when I was alive, of course." 

"Less screams of the damned, I imagine?" I asked. "Why, Y/n, that's the first I've heard you curse since I met you!" Alastor smirks. "What changed?" 

"Does that really count though?" I raise an eyebrow. "I've been saying Hell. I'm not really using it hatefully." Alastor's smirk dropped slightly, a look of slight annoyance on his face. "Can you even curse? Or are you too pure for that?" 

"Oh no, I sure as fuck can." I tell him. Alastor's eyebrows shot up. "Ha! That's more like it! Embrace the rotten side of yourself! Step by step, little by little. Cursing's a good start, I suppose." He shrugs.

I giggle. "Yeah. Guess so." Alastor joined me and sat down. "How come you haven't before? I'm sure there were times you got frustrated enough to do so." Alastor asks. "My ex fiancé never liked me to curse. Said it was unlady like." I explain. Alastor hums. 

"I take it he was the controlling type?" He asked. I nod. "Well, there is one good thing that's come from you dying." I give Alastor a confused glance. "What's that?" 

"You've finally rid yourself of that man." 

It wasn't comforting words, but I could understand what he meant. I only hate that it took dying to be free from him...

"I guess you're right." I shrug. "And when he dies, I won't have to deal with him in Heaven...Though come to think of it. I doubt he'd actually get in." I say bitterly. "I just hope I never run into him here, if that's the case." 

"I could always get rid of him myself." Alastor suggests. I furrow my brows. "You'd do that?" I ask. "But of course. I've always disliked the idea of brutes disrespecting a lady, by any means. Trust me...I've seen more than enough of it happen in my lifetime." Oh...That's right...

"Well...I give you full permission." I tell him. Alastor looks me in the eyes as he asks: "Do you truly mean that?" Unwavering, I answer him honestly. "I think he should get a taste of his own medicine for once." 

Alastor chuckled darkly before standing. "Then, consider it done." He said before walking towards the mic again. I watch as he continued on with his radio show. 

I hadn't realized it, but I had fallen asleep while listening to Alastor's broadcast. Another thing I hadn't realized, is that Alastor's voice was surprisingly soothing at times. And it had lulled me right to sleep. Alastor had finished up an hour later and turned to me again, pausing as he noticed my sleeping form. He walked over silently and stared for a moment. 

"Y/n, you certainly are something." He says quietly. "To think I've grown to actually like someone in this cesspool." He bends to pick me up before teleporting in my room.

He walks to my bed and gently lays me down. "Though, I could do without you falling asleep during my show." He chuckles, moving a stray strand of hair from my face. He turns to leave, his shadow forming next to him as he exits my room. 

"You seem to be growing awfully close." It grinned. 

"And what of it?" Alastor asks, shutting the door behind him. "I don't see any harm in doing so."

"What about wanting her to cave into misery?" 

Alastor faltered for a moment. "I do believe there's been a change of plans. Have you not been paying attention?" 

"All I'm saying, is that this could prove to be dangerous."

"Dangerous?"

"For you. You know deep down, growing attached is never a good thing."

Alastor was silent for a moment. "I have it under control. Now, if you please?" He said with a wave of his hand. The shadow rolled it's eyes before dissolving into thin air.

Alastor sighed heavily, before scoffing. "Growing attached. Please." Of course he knew better, he wasn't daft. It wasn't like that anyway. So his tolerance had grown a bit softer, what does it matter?  

"It's not like I'd fall to pieces without her around."

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor

[xxlady-lunaxx]

The sun and its shine | {YoriiUta}

Theme: Fluff

Note: READ THE SCREENSHOT IF YOU WANT INFO OF THIS BC I AIN'T EXPLAINING SO DON'T BE SURPRISED. /j

MODERN AU

slight KokuZan ofc 💀

procrastination>>> 

/j

also this is kinda rlly fast moving along bc it's a oneshot so... sorry bout that

"Yoriichi, do we have a project?" Michikatsu asked, looking tired as hell as he trudged down the stairs alongside his twin brother.

"Yes, why?" Yoriichi said. This time it was a History project. They were supposed to make an artistic representation of one of the World Wars for a reason nobody understood since they'd just been on the topic of something completely different. 

"Wait, we do? When is it due?" Michikatsu said, suddenly looking wide awake.

His brother laughed. "In a week. Do you even know who you're working with?"

"Uhm... Sumi'?" he asked uncertainly. 

"Yes, Sumiyoshi already started it for you I think."

"Oh. Great! Who's your partner?" Michikatsu asked, grabbing a bowl from the kitchen and searching the fridge for some food.

"Uhm... the girl who sits next to me always? I don't know if you know her. Her name is Uta." Yoriichi paused. "Ah, I need her contact number."

"Why, you gonna ask her out?" his brother teased, plopping down on a chair.

"No!" Yoriichi said, flushing. "I need to be able to speak to her about the project. I forgot we still didn't have each other's number's though we often work together."

"Yeah, how the hell do you do that then?"

"We just do it at school, like staying a bit later or going there early?" he said, chomping his bread rather aggressively in attempt to hide his embarrassment.

"Boringgg, how could you go to—... Wait is that why sometimes I wake up an hour late for school and you're not there??" Michikatsu said, a sudden thought striking him. "You dump me for detention to go on a book date with your girlfriend?!"

"We're not dating!! And I did wake you up but you always go back to sleep later!!" Yoriichi said, huffing. "Are Muichiro and Yuichiro awake yet? We need to drop them off to their school before we go." 

Michikatsu rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine, whatever." He left his bowl on the table and traipsed up the stairs shouting, "MUI AND YUI GET YOUR ASSES UP IT'S TIME FOR SCHOOL!!"

×××

"Good morning," Yoriichi said, nodding towards Uta who gave him her usual cheery smile as they sat down, waiting for the class to start.

"Good morning! How are you today?" she asked, lifting her bag and placing it on her lap, rummaging through it. 

"I'm well, and you?" he said, turning his gaze to the front of the room which was full of students filing inside. 

"I'm okay. Can we work on the project at lunch, maybe? I have something after school," Uta said, taking out her notebook and giving him another bright smile. 

"Of course. Oh! And about that, I wanted to ask if we... could exchange numbers? We could more easily contact each other then," Yoriichi said nervously, unsure what she would say.

"Oh, sure! Ah, let me find my phone," she said, laughing and going back to searching through her bag.

"Alright," he said, taking out his own and waiting.

×××

Lunch period and everyone was filing into the cafeteria, lively chatter filling the air. (y'all guess what idk how middle school or high school is like irl except from books i've read ;-;)

Yoriichi stayed behind in class, waiting for Uta to finish packing her things.

"You ready?" he asked.

"Mhm!" She stood and the two walked to the library.

On their way there, they bumped into Muzan, who was Michikatsu's boyfriend. 

"Oh, hello," Yoriichi said, nodding in acknowledgement.

"Hi." Muzan turned to Uta and stage-whispered, "Who is that? Your boyfriend?"

Yoriichi flushed. Why was it that people kept saying that?? 

Uta only laughed though. "No, he's not. We're only going to do a project in the library."

"But it's lunch time?" Muzan whined. 

"You go eat with your boyfriend!" Uta said, sighing. "Where is he anywho?"

Muzan pointed to behind them were Michikatsu was walking down the hall.

The two turned. 

"Oh, there you are," Michikatsu said, directing this to Muzan. "Let's go eat lunch. We can leave these two to their book party now."

Yoriichi sighed. "Don't cause any trouble." 

"No promises!" Michikatsu said, saluting the two and dragging Muzan away with a wink.

"...Okay, let's go to the library now," Yoriichi said, rolling his eyes at his brother.

"Alright!" Uta said cheerfully, not seeming bothered at all by this.

"You know Muzan then?" he asked as they made their way down the hall. 

"Yep! We've known each other for, like... since we were little," Uta said, turning a corner.

"Oh? Have you met my brother before?" Yoriichi inquired, tilting his head curiously in her direction.

"I've heard of him from Muzan here and there. We never really 'met', only just seen each other or spoken when he goes to steal Muzan," she said, laughing. "Have you got the part of the project you've done so far?"

"Yes, it's in my bag," he said, patting his bag.

"Mkay! Well, we're here now. Hmm... Do you suppose we should look at more of the books?"

×××

It was getting late and Yoriichi trudged through the halls of the school, having stayed back to wait for Michikatsu who was in detention—who wouldn't say why he got it. 

Finally—finally—Michikatsu met his brother in the hall, an annoyed look written all over his face.

"I'm finally out!" he whined. 

"Yeah, you wouldn't be in there if you hadn't gotten yourself in trouble again," Yoriichi said, sighing. 

"Not my fault you're such a goody-two-shoes," Michikatsu huffed. 

"You're the one who insists on making a lot of trouble... Shall we go now?"

"Yeah, okay."

As they walked home, Michikatsu recounted his day. At one point they'd decided to tell each other how their days went as they went home and it became a sort of tradition between the two.

"And... then I had detention and Prof. Urokodaki was being real strict again. What about you?" Michikatsu concluded, turning to his brother with a grin.

"Me? I mostly went to my classes and did my project with Uta," Yoriichi said. "Nothing quite so eventful about my day."

"Oh, Uta? Right. She and Muzan are friends," Michikatsu noted, walking backwards to look at his brother while he spoke. "Yorii'?"

"Hm?"

"Do you like Uta?"

Yoriichi spluttered and nearly tripped onto Michikatsu. "What? She's my friend! So, no, not like how you're implying," he said, flushed. 

"But your face is literally redder than Muzan's eyes right now," Michikatsu said, poising his hands on his hips. "You do like her!"

"I do not!" He didn't, did he?

"Yes you do! You always look so happy when you talk about her," he said, jabbing a finger at Yoriichi's chest. "Just admit it!"

"I... I do not like her like that," Yoriichi mumbled. "Let's go home now. We're only a few blocks away," he said, moving quickly around his brother and dashing off. 

×××

"Muzan!! I have something to tell you," Michikatsu hissed into his phone, glancing at his door. 

"Hm? What is it, my love?" Muzan asked curiously.

"Yoriichi likes Uta!! It's so obvious but he keeps denying it. Anyways, you know Uta, do you know if she likes anyone?" Michikatsu said quickly, lowering his voice. 

There was silence for a second before Muzan burst into laughter. 

"What??"

"Uta was just telling me she had a crush," Muzan explained. "She said he asked for her number so they could work on their school project together or something and she went on gushing about how happy she was."

"...Yeah that's probably Yorii' then," Michikatsu said. He flopped down on his bed, his eyes still keeping a close watch on the door. He and Yoriichi shared a room, as did Muichiro and Yuichiro, so he had to be careful. Yoriichi was currently helping their younger brothers with their homework, though, so they had a little time.

"Mhm. Want to do something about it?" 

"What do you mean?" he asked, hearing the smirk in Muzan's voice.

"Let's set them up. Ooh! We could invite them to go on a walk and coincidentally run into each other and then I'll steal you and we'll spy on them," Muzan said.

"Alrighty. When do we go? It's literally the middle of the week," Michikatsu pointed out. 

"Yeah, uhm, how about tomorrow? Wednesdays we have less class time, so we can go in the evening?" Muzan suggested.

"Great! Text me the place and I'll tell Yoriichi to go with me there for a bit."

×××

"We rarely go on walks now, it's so nice to be out just... like this!" Uta commented, smiling as she skipped along the path.

"Yeah," Muzan said, his mind on the fact that they had to be at the park in less than two minutes and they were still fifteen minutes away from it. "I'll race you there!!" he said, dashing off.

"Hey!!" Uta whined, running after him.

They got to the park, tired as hell, but they were there. A bit late, though.

Muzan spotted Michikatsu looking confused at the tree they'd said they would meet at and pointed there. 

"Uta, look! It's Michi and Yoriichi," he said, pulling her there.

"I'm still tireddd," Uta pouted, but followed him. 

"Oh! Funny to see you here," Michikatsu said, looking relieved. 

I'm sorry we're late, Muzan mouthed.

Michikatsu shrugged. 

"Yeah!!" Uta agreed to Michikatsu's previous statement. "What're you two doing here?"

"Walking. Muichiro and Yuichiro wanted to come here," Michikatsu lied, pointing to his two youngest brothers who were climbing on top of the swing structure... 

"Oh! They're so grown up," Uta said, her eyes sparkling.

Yoriichi agreed.

Michikatsu and Muzan's eyes met and the two seemed to be trying to tel each other the same thing before they made loud excuses to go check on Yuichiro and Muichiro to make sure they didn't fall and break their heads.

"Hmm, hello, Yoriichi!" Uta said cheerfully.

"Hello," he said, nodding at her with a nervous smile. 

"It's really pretty this evening, right?" she said, moving her hands in a wide motion in front of her as if she were displaying a work of art.

"Yes, the sunset is beautiful," Yoriichi murmured. Like Uta. She was beautiful too. 

"Do you like walking outside?" she asked, turning to look at him.

"It's nice. I like the air when it's a little colder, makes you feel... alive," he commented, nodding. 

"Ohh, yeah!! It's nice for a little breeze anyways. When it's warmer I get drowsier," Uta said, tapping her chin. "Your brother is very lively, you know. He's always getting into trouble."

"Mhm." Yoriichi averted his eyes. Did she like livelier people? He had never been like Michikatsu, able to jump from one person to another. He'd always been quiet and on the shyer side, afraid to speak up unless it was important or amongst people he knew and trusted.

"You seem to be a lot better at keeping calmer though!" Uta said, smiling. "You're also lots more relaxed, I think."

Yoriichi looked up. "Oh..! Thank you?" he said quietly.

She nodded. "Mhm! I can never keep too quiet and I'm too energetic. Someone told me they would tape my mouth shut if I kept talking but then Muzan told them that he would tape them to an electricity pole in the middle of a tornado and they shut up," she said, laughing. "He's too harsh but he means well."

Yoriichi raised an eyebrow. People didn't like her energy? "I... I admire your energeticness. I never know how to be that social so... I keep quieter. You have a friendly quality to yourself that I find comforting," he said, offering her a smile.

Uta stared at him for a long moment and he felt like he'd said something wrong before she tilted her head and gave him a shy smile. "I... Thank you. No one really tells me that. I only konw that they like talking to me if they don't leave," she said, laughing nervously. 

"Really? I would've expected more people to compliment you..." he said, trailing off when he realized what he just said. He flushed and turned away. "Uhm... Let's go check on my brothers and Muzan. Make sure they're not causing chaos?"

Uta nodded, her smile growing and her cheeks tinted pink. 

×××

Over the course of the next few weeks, Michikatsu and Muzan continued finding excuses (to not make this so detailed/j) bring Yoriichi and Uta closer together, making up random things so they have to leave them alone together or inviting them over only for Yoriichi and Uta to third-wheel them, eventually going to a different room to talk. 

Somehow, neither Yoriichi nor Uta caught on with these antics no matter how obvious they were. It couldn't be more conspicious and yet Michikatsu and Muzan still managed to get by all of this with everyone but the two victim's noticing.

And finally, their work paid off.

Because they were seriously running out of ideas.

"Alright, we'll leave a note to them asking to meet at the café, right? Then... pretend Yoriichi and Uta sent them to each other, I guess?" Michikatsu said, listing it out in his head.

"Right. There's another place across the street from it we can go to to watch them," Muzan said. 

"Okay! It's settled."

×××

"Uta?" Yoriichi said, surprised to actually see her there. He'd recognised her handwriting—although it looked a bit messier than usual—and had come here to meet her.

"Hi! You... wanted to meet me?" Uta said, smiling.

"Oh! I thought you wanted to see me."

They stared at each other for a second then glanced at the café they stood in front of.

×××

Inside the café, it was very noisy and they struggled to find a place to sit after ordering their drinks.

"Soo, how're you?" Yoriichi asked, tapping the table mindlessly, unsure what to say.

"I'm fine! It's such a nice day out, no?" Uta commented, her voice ringing much clearer through the noisy din. 

"Mhm."

They waited a bit, their minds both on the fact that this might as well be a date.

Then, quite simutaneously, they said, "Can I tell you something?"

They started at each other for a second and then Uta laughed, causing a smile to spread on Yoriichi's face. 

"You can go first," he said gently.

"We can say it at the same time?" she suggested.

Yoriichi didn't know how they would hear each other then, but he agreed. 

"On the count of three," Uta said. "One, two three."

"I think I like you," Yoriichi said at the same time Uta said, "I like you."

They blinked.

Flushed, Uta said quickly, "Y...You do?"

"Yes..." Yoriichi mumbled. "V...Very much so." His cheeks were a blotchy pink and both of them averted their eyes, unsure what to say.

"Uhm... Do you want to go out?" Uta asked nervously.

"I... I would!" Yoriichi said, his eyes shining much like hers did quite often. 

She laughed. "I'm so happy!"

"Me too," he said. "Me too."

{Word count: 2475}

WAHHAHSHA THEY'RE SO CUTE I'M GONNA CRY 😭

SHIT ENDING BUT YAYAYAYAY!!!

i forgot i was gonna say smth else but my stupid ass mind forgot what it was

Oh also

the title used to be "shy" bc i didn't know what to do BUT!!

i like this one better

like Yoriichi is always the sun but Uta literally is a ball of sunshine like-

#YoriiUta #kny #sillyness #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #fluff #slight kokuzan #yoriichi tsugikuni #michikatsu tsugikuni #uta tsugikuni #uta #sillies #love them #flufffff #ds

[dragon-business]

Majima versus Omi

Where Majima, once again, went on a self-sacrificial crusade to help someone he cares about. Yaaay.

But really, after talking about Tachibana siblings and discovering how close his and Kiryu’s experience and pain from that time are, Majima was quite disoriented. After all, Kiryu's already was a pretty integral part of his life and played a big role in Majima getting his freedom. And then this, too? Knowing they share this soul crushing experience they literally can’t share with anyone else? Ohboy, that’s a lot.

Sure, Majima made a lot of progress in getting his life back, and living for himself, even left yakuza and everything. But progress is not linear, and the sudden weight of care he doesn’t know what to do with made him backslide a bit. Made Majima go out on a stubborn limb and try protecting Kiryu (and all of his own men), by taking out the whole wave of Omi invasion all by himself. Sure, he pulled it off, but barely. Sadly, the hard hat can’t save from all the concussions.

And not to be that guy, but all the reservations about physical contact went out of the window when Kiryu rushed to hold Majima. And how he held him, uh oh.

Poor Majima, struggling to stay alert through the concussion and knowing there’s a wholeass woman there with them, really tried to apply the suave flirting game. This was very funny, they should've expanded on that, Majima probably rambled all the way Kaoru carried him to the hospital..

And we’re so here for that.

– Majima: you know what they say about hips!.. gotta have a good grasp on them! Kaoru, who has a figure if a solid stick:

- Majima be like: you're the nicest smelling woman I've met, very alluring And Kaoru: I've just spilled a beer on myself half an hour before, trying to eat grilled ribs as fast as I can to make it to the meeting with Kiryu in time Majima: mmmm… ribs……. I bet mine are fucked up hahahahh

– Majima, way later: and then I saw the boobs so beautiful I blacked out Kaoru: but you were talking all the way I was carrying you to the doctor's office? Majima: you were there???? Kaoru:

She really wanted to hit him, but he had enough. He's still not quite there fully, lots of painkillers for the ribs.

– Majima: if I die… you tell Kiryu (says something so embarrassing the nurse turns purple)

It needs to be something pathetic, desperate, and gay.

Like: “Nishida has the will, it's all legal, all yours, watch over the boys, I'll be watching you from the pits of hell and beyond, so you better not have that little scowl thing going on for me, you better be happy, yes. Also you should have more buttons on the shirt open, pls, I'll be watching, pop some open for me sometimes, that's my dying wish ._,”

He is sobbing a little and is ready to go on talking till he reaches his actual last words.

(if something happens to Majima, the people from his family are all getting settled too, ofc. everyone is covered)

Kaoru: I'm not saying all that. you ain't gonna die, get a grasp, bitch. Majima: fair. I would love to get a grasp of Kiryu before I die. Kaoru: of Kiryu's what? Majima, trying to make hand motions: of all of him… Kaoru: I think it's called a hug. Majima, tearing up: a hug…

– Majima will get a hell of a hospital visit later. Nishida would cry. Stoically, but obviously.

Oh, and in private he furiously asked him why. Why did he do this? And Majima answers, curtly and matter of fact: “Well. Kiryu is safe, ain’t he? And can do what he needs to do.” And this is. Really something. 

Nishida watched Majima go from “I won't sit near him at lunch” straight to doing the most extreme shit for Kiryu. “For Tojo clan” my ass, he already left that circus.

Nishida thinks that Kiryu believes in the boss's power to survive… too firmly. This is a strong callback to the pier. Kiryu is too caught up in Majima’s energy of being able to crawl back out of anything. If Kiryu really believed that Majima got hurt really badly in the fight with Omi, he wouldn’t’ve pushed him onto Kaoru.

And maybe with the new Tachibana context Majima decided that he needs to be the guy who Doesn’t Die on Kiryu. You know. But he kinda missed the part where he got caught in the exact situation Tachibana was in. Kiryu believed that Tachibana could handle this terrible thing on his own for a bit, and went to do other things, and it ended in tragedy.

Oh Kiryu holding the person dear to him, while they bleed out in his arms, because he was too late. Yumi, Kazama, Rina – this list keeps growing ever since Tachibana, isn’t it.

And now Kiryu is clearly not thinking through his blind faith in Majima’s survival rates. Do you think he’ll be angry when Nishida, who’s very upset now, will tell him that he’s not seeing things clearly? Angry at himself, obviously. And a little bit at Majima, for doing this. (It is a mess of feelings, huh)

Nishida really needs to say something though. Because Kiryu believing in the legendary strong and smart Majima-san, the best manager and untouchable fighter is straight up infantalistic behaviour.

Majima generally wants to help people. He’s very good at it. But his self destructive urges  get tangled in this too. He is also still repenting.

It can be a real hit for Kiryu – to realise that he was dragging Majima to the Mad Dog life without ever calling him that. Kiryu was doing to Majima what everyone did to him with the Dragon of Dojima expectations that are impossible to shake off because, well. Kiryu is also repenting.

So, for now, all Kiryu can do is come visit Majima in the hospital.

– before / navigation / next

#yakuza #kazumaji #goro majima #kiryu kazuma #kaoru sayama #kiwami 2 #this is canon now

[god-in-the-basement]

Are you almost ready?

-@the-almighty-lucifer

*A world like ours. A fat, orange sun squats on the horizon like a toad. Its sickly rays curdle the sky. Everything it touches -- the gray, splintered trees, the crumbling brick factories surrounded by plywood and barbed wire, the overgrown yellow grass that pokes through the cracks in the streets, the ashy faces of the huddled people -- is tinted an eerie neon tangerine.*

*Every so often, a spark appears in the sky and falls to Earth, sometimes two or three at a time. They're iron-winged angels wreathed in fire and full of Wrath. Twelve feet tall in business suits, angry eyes from every angle, mouths full of Holy Holy Holy and hands full of swords.*

*The air is hot and dry and dead. It smells like baked bread. But a cool wet breeze wends its way in, bringing the scent of grass, of running water. Of green trees somewhere at the top of a mountain.*

*Every metallic or crystalline object on Earth, in Heaven, and in Hell -- including sand -- tunes itself, quietly, to a certain channel. Which then begins to play this song.*

It's only a paper moon

Sailing over a cardboard sea

But it wouldn't be make-believe

If you believed in me...

*The voice of Ella Fitzgerald continues to talk over the backing orchestra.*

Hello there, all My little angels in Heaven, all of My little demons trapped down there in Hell, and all my sweet little humans in the middle.

I know that you all are having a tough old time down there, and I'm real sorry about that...

It sure was not My intention

To leave you in the lurch

My anti-crime prevention

Was for all who 'tended church

But Lucifer, He made his claim

That I was ruling bad

And so I went and left you with

A devil for a Dad. Well!

God's away on business now

And Mommy's having fun

She's not answerin' prayers no more

For you or anyone

God's away on holiday

Gone on an extended stay

So raise your chin and order in

Cause Mommy's off to play!

I meant this world I made for you

To be a paradise

But anyone can see, my babes,

That none of you play nice

I made a Hell to ease your pain

A Heaven to lend aid

And now you're gonna have to live

With all the mess you've made. 'Cause!

God's away on business now

And Hell is open wide

The demons there can all escape

Their prison sentence theirs to break

Yes Hell is open wide now, and the dead they can go freeEE!

And Heaven's reign has ended

For the ones who have ascended

To the very heights of moral and spir-it-ual degree

No longer act with any ounce of My Authority...

*tinkling piano*

So every single one of you can be

Exactly as free as you can ever be!

Well!

*grand orchestra, massed voices*

God's away on business now

And She ain't coming back

So kiss your faith a fond good-bye

Prepare to miss Her watchful eye

God's away on holiday

And here is what She has to say:

*solo*

I'm sorry that the world I made

Is painted such an ugly shade

I'm sorry that I made you small

Your bodies should be ten feet tall

I'm sorry that you can't see pleene

I'm sorrier about the spleen

I sure messed up a thing or two...

It's been a pleasure knowing you.

*Chorus*

She's sorrier about the spleen

She sure messed up a thing or two

She made it so you can't see pleene

And now She will be leaving you.

*Transmission abruptly ends*

*in Her normal voice*

... alright. That should be good. Can we get back? I want a big hot chocolate and a muffin from the cute woman with the coffeeshop.

#good omens rp

[reine-du-sourire]

Yo yo, what's up fam? It's ya boy, Victor Frankenstein, live and direct from my lab, where I'm about to flex my mad skills and show you how I'm about to create life, all on my own!

First things first, let me give you a quick tour of my setup. Got my Bunsen burner lit up, got my test tubes poppin', got my electrodes sparking, and you know I gotta have my beats bumpin' in the background, cuz I gotta get in that zone, ya dig?

Now, let's talk about the real reason why we're here. I'm about to unleash my latest creation, and trust me when I say, this ain't no basic B. This creature is gonna be next-level lit, and I'm the one who's gonna bring it to life, all thanks to my mad scientist skills.

I'm talking about using some serious biotech swag to piece together body parts and organs, and then using some dope-a** lightning bolts to shock it all to life, ya feel me? This creature is gonna be the baddest dude on the block, and he's gonna be straight-up grateful to me for giving him this gift of life.

So if you're ready to witness some major-league sorcery, then keep it locked on this livestream, cuz I'm about to drop some serious heat. And when this creature is finally up and running, you better believe he's gonna be hella lit, all thanks to yours truly, the one and only Victor Frankenstein, in the building!

Yo, hold up, hold up. Looks like my boy Henry just stepped into the lab, and he's looking kinda stressed out. What's good, my dude?

"Victor, what the hell are you doing? You've been in here for days, subsisting solely on ramen noodles and caffeine. That's not healthy, man. You need to take a break and eat something real."

Yo, chill, Henry. I'm just trying to get this creature up and running, you feel me? I can't afford to take a break right now.

"But you can afford to give yourself a heart attack? Come on, Victor, you're better than this. You need to take care of yourself if you want to create something amazing. And besides, your breath smells like garlic and soy sauce."

Okay, okay, I hear you. Maybe I have been neglecting my health a little bit. But you gotta admit, this ramen is fire, right?

"Yeah, I'll admit that. But it's not exactly a balanced meal. Look, I'll order us some real food. We can take a break, eat some veggies, and then get back to work, okay?"

Aight, fine. You win, Henry. But only if you get us some sushi. And make sure it's the good stuff, none of that supermarket crap.

"Deal. Now let's go before you collapse from malnutrition."

Haha, you got jokes, Henry. Alright, let's bounce. But don't worry, I'll be back soon, and this creature is gonna be straight-up legendary, you hear me?

...

What's up, people? This is Henry, coming at you live from Victor's lab. As you can see, my boy Victor is knocked out cold face-first in his sushi, probably from sheer exhaustion.

I tried to get him to go to sleep earlier, but he was too stubborn for his own good. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and end this livestream for him. The last thing he needs right now is to be broadcasting his sleep-deprived ramblings to the world.

But don't worry, folks. Victor will be back soon, and he'll be fully rested and ready to show off his latest creation. And trust me, it's gonna be something special.

Until then, take care of yourselves, and remember to get enough sleep. It's important for both your physical and mental well-being. This is Henry Clerval, signing off.

#victor frankenstein #henry clerval #frankenstein #livestream #gen z slang

[the-crow-binary]

Top 5 CV ships >:3c

Nnnnnngh most difficult choice EVER

5. Dracastle for that deep, abstract love/bond Dracula and his Castle share, in my head <3 (i am NOT ASHAMED TO PUT IT IN MY TOP 5.) I think I'll put Dreath ex aequo with it because there's definitely a deep bond between those two as well. <3 Death being Dracula's biggest simp confidant and the only companion that he constantly had because he doesn't have any other immortal friend and MAN their bond is something that only immortals can understad and that no mortal could ever. 🥺

4.Isaavor/Isaactor LISTEN I CAN'T CHOOSE. THINGS ARE JUST THE WAY THEY ARE OKAY. I love them both equally for different reasons. <3 Isaactor because TWO LOST SOULS SHUNNED BY THE WORLDS FINDING EACH OTHER AND LOVING EACH OTHER IN THE ONLY WAYS THEY KNOW AND THEY'RE TRAGIC AND SO DIVORCED AND MARRIED AT THE SAME TIME AND AAAAAAAAAA and Isaavor because hot. ;) (ennemies to lovers trope except it's more like ennemies AND lovers).

3. Dramont because OF COURSE DRAMONT HOW COULD I NOT PUT THE DARK LORD X HIS ETERNAL ENNEMIES THEY ARE SO COOL (but choosing it's place in my top with very hard). Tbh I see it as.... Dracula feeling like their bond is similar to the one he shares with Death. Everytime he'll come back, there will be a Belmont (except the few times there wasn't but tbf he wasn't resurrected fully so let's ignore that for a sec). There's two consistant things in Dracula's lives, Death, and the Belmonts. Though the bond Dracula thought he had with the clan was only one sided :) Because they're mortals. :) They can't understand. :) Sure, they understand how they were linked to Dracula, fated to defeat him. But they could never truly understand the bond that linked two immortal souls together. :)

2. Mactor. I fell in this hell made out of our respective blorbos and I AIN'T COMING BACK UP AGAIN. I am so ready to burn with them <3 Oh and, of course, Hecula. :) What do you mean "two ships in one again"? Aren't they technnically the same ship? :) Just with a different name? :)

Some honorable mentions before revealing the top 1 (though i bet you already know what it's gonna be <3):

Hectaly (THE BELOVEDS) - Isaadict (literally so niche but idc i love them :'<) - Isaacula - Maleon - Malter - Wachim - Deathias - Hevor (I'M SORRY I LOVE THEM BUT I HAD TO MAKE SACRIFICES FOR THIS TOP)

Alright, and now, the top of the top, the best of the best, the one and only...

1. Macula. Because NO NO BECAUSE- LISTEN- NO IT'S DEEPER THAN YOU THINK LISTEN I swear I'll finish writing that Macula one day. (at least now I can say that, instead of "i swear i will write it one day" <3 it's called progress, babyyyyy) Anyway I just love the Horrors, Mathias, the pious man, seeing what he's fated to become and being disgusted by it, denying reality, hating everything, yet slowly coming to accept it. Dracula seeing what he used to be and ALSO being disgusted by it but learning to heal through Mathias. Dracula being everything Mathias despises, Mathias being everything Dracula rejected so long ago... all the DRAMA. All the POTENTIAL. AAAAAAA (also it's hot idc)

#thank you castlevania for allowing me to have so much gothic and tragic ships <3 #also me so weak for the living eldritch castle having Feelings for it's Lord #castlevania #castlevania ships #ship ask #beevean ask #too many ships to tag. sorry i'm lazy

[catmillers]

no place like – self-para

time: june

location: cat's apartment, the capitol

tw: super passive suicidal ideation, tw: vague gore

With the last box lugged up the stairs, door locked, blinds pulled up, windows open, letting in the warm summer air, sounds from the streets below, Cat was moved in.

Well, ain't 'xactly moved in.

About twenty boxes littered her living room, almost packed still, a few had been opened, if only to get a blanket and towel out. A singular drawing hung on the far wall by the windows, held by a singular pushpin into the drywall. This was her first night in the Capitol. Hell, this was her first night alone in a long while. Without a co-conspirator, without a friend, without –

Without Mahlon.

She didn't wanna think about him, think about how bittersweet it all was. The love, the loss of it.

Cat ran though, as she always did, maybe for Mahlon's benefit, not wantin' him t'get killed or jailed like Slate. He's better off without me weighin' him down.

She eyed the empty space, at the center of it sat an open box, parts laid out to build a futon, the instructions sat nearby, the actual bed itself shoved off into a corner, half-slumped over on itself. She'd have to build it, she didn't wanna spend a night on the floor, Cat slept in enough shitty beds out in Eleven, sure as shit didn't wanna sleep in another one.

Cat sat on the floor, in front of it all of the parts and began to brute force her way through it, muttering little obscenities along the way as if she had an audience, 'There ain't a fuckin' part 23A', 'Where's the goddamn screwdriver', 'Why'd you only give me six then, fuckin' piece a' shit'. Finally, despite her thumb being hit by a hammer and her ego bruised, the frame was built. Cat lugged the mattress onto the frame, taking a few minutes to fully manhandle the stupid fuckin' thing onto it. She flopped down, not bothering to fold the thing out or to grab her blanket from the floor nearby.

Cat's eyes cast to the drawing on the wall, one of her; charcoal that captured the slope of her jaw, the curve of her cheek, her dimples, the way her eyes sparkled when she looked at something with sincere interest. On the back, the words 'love you, peach' were scrawled by a gentle hand. It was starin' at her and she wished it fuckin' wouldn't. Where was that Cat? Huh?

She'd quit everything minus the smoking. Found herself pounding through about two packs a week. Cat knew damn well enough she'd have to hold onto at least one vice, if she was gonna make it and she considered nicotine as the least obtrusive stress-reliever. Wasn't a drink. Sure as hell wasn't an ether, but she needed the clear head, needed to make sure her tracks were covered and that she'd be ready to run before they – the Capitol – got their claws in her. This Cat was afraid, this Cat was alone.

Her eyes finally tore free from her replica and she snatched her phone out of her pocket. Fingers hovered over her texts as she began to type:

'hey thinking about you wanted to say i'm sorry you were right maybe i shouldn't be–'

She deleted the line and tried again:

'know you said you hated the idea of moving to the capitol but think you'd like my plac–'

Deleted.

'i miss you'

Cat groaned, rolling her eyes at herself. She was so pathetic. Always wantin' the things she couldn't have; she tapped at her screen backing up the message once again before settling on typing out, 'ten okay? never heard if you made it there in one piece'. That was fine, that she could live with, that didn't sound desperate, didn't sound like she was aching to her core, sick to her stomach with loneliness. Cat hit send.

She sat back up, that feigned attempt at gettin' comfy and goin' to sleep ignored. On the floor alongside her blanket, she plucked her pack of cigarettes, the lighter tucked inside, and made for the large windows, forcing one open the rest of the way. She perched in it, one leg hanging out, back leaned up against the frame. Cat tipped the box open, plucking one of the cigarettes free and into her awaiting lips. She brought the lighter out, managing to light it and she took a gracious breath of menthol-tinted air. The pack fumbled in her hand, bouncing off her lap and out onto the pavement four floors down, scattering the few remaining sticks out.

"For fuck's sake," Cat muttered as she eyed the pack below. Briefly, for maybe a second she considered what would happen if she jumped. What part of her would hit first? Skull if she aimed it right, then her shoulders, probably an elbow or a knee, aching and reverberating with pain. She pushed the thought away in the blink of an eye. She'd be alright. Passive ideations and intrusive thoughts were the norm though for her, so she wasn't exactly phased, eyes almost seeming to glaze over as she took another careful drag.

She blew the smoke out and then closed her eyes, deciding the play pretend, the way she did at the balls, but instead chose to give herself a companion. Not someone invented, someone who loved her without condition, expectation, just love.

"Eugene," Her voice began soft, not sure if she was speaking aloud or if she was thinking it, "What the fuck am I doin'?"

"Dunno, what are you doin', kiddo?"

She hadn't expected her brain to invent a voice, or try to replicate Eugene's it had been too long since she had heard it so she couldn't even fact-check herself to see if it was accurate.

She shrugged, keeping her eyes closed, not wanting to end the illusion, "Fightin'? Tryin' to?"

"Looks a lot like that same lil' girl who tried to run from the Games."

"Which time?" A bitter laugh mingled with her words and she brought the cigarette back up to mouth pulling another puff off of it.

"Both," Eugene's voice gave its own laugh – throaty, warm like they'd always been. "You ever think you can't run from 'em?" He asked.

"Then what's the point?" She wondered aloud, her voice getting desperate, "Of survivin' that shit, dad – if I can't end it then what? You're gone and everyone I care about keeps goin' too, if people don't stay 'cause they're scared of fightin' and losin' or scared a' me, then what, huh?"

Silence.

Cat's eyes opened, bleary, searching for Eugene as if he were in the room, sitting on the couch behind her. She looked back toward the darkening room, breathing shaky. Empty. The ghost of a laugh slipped her lips and she tossed the cigarette down to the street so it could join its brethren. Gone. Just like Eugene, just like Sawyer, just like Slate, just like Mahlon.

#tw: passive suicidal ideation #133 #ahw133 #location – cat's apartment #eugene – #self-para

[imobessesedfrfr]

~I'm a Liar, but I can live through my lies~

A/N:

I wanted to write some angst for this little series that I have going on. Sooo

______________________________________________________________

Scenario I

People gathered around, watching this woman get beat by some lower goons from Kaido's army. "Tell us where the straw hats and heart pirates are!!" They grabbed some metal rods and beat her body. Laughing as they watched her scream in pain, "Just tell us and we can make this stop!" the woman didn't respond, still groaning her pain. "Well!?" the woman lifted up her head, glaring at them. Slightly scary them, one of the goons stepped forward. "Don't look at us like that!" the goon punched her in the face. The goon spit on her face, laughing in the processes.

The group watched from afar on how this woman was being publicly tortured. Kiku watched in horror, Luffy and Zoro glared at the goon beating her up. Ready to jump into action, yet her captain. The one she was protecting was stopping them from jumping in. "Traffy! What are you doing?!" Zoro exclaimed, he glared at Law. Waiting for an answer, "We can't, you'll mess up the plan!"

"Gonna say something, wench?" looking up at the goon, the blood dripped from her nose and from head. "I ain't saying shit!" she spit at his shoes, "I have no idea where they are. I doubt there still here!" she screamed at him. The people around them watching in horror as the goons grabbed her by the hair and hitting her head against the ground. Her blood scattering around everywhere, "Just tell us already!"

Law gripped his sword; it was his navigator that was getting beat into the ground. He knew she was in pain, yet she wasn't saying a word! This is wrong, he knew deep down. Law wanted nothing more to jump in and stop them. He couldn't, she trying to protect the plan after all, even now she wouldn't let the plan fail. 'Navigator, tell them anything. Tell them we are still on the island!'. The goon kept beating her up, waiting for her to say something. "Tell us! Maybe Kaido will let you go!" The navigator still didn't say, growing more irritated.

Pulling her up to her feet, "Say something, Navigator-ya!" he said quietly. The woman looked towards the group of her friends and allies. She shook her head subtly, showing them, she could see them. The woman took a deep breath, despite her low energy as well as the beatings she took. She let of a declaration, a declaration to her captain. "I'm not saying anything! You all expect me to give up! To lose!? No, no way in hell!" she let her sea prism stone cuffs rattle. "I am loyal to my captain! And to the alliance we made!" she was riddled with pain. The blood falling down from her face, they highlighted the dedication in her eyes. "I have complete and utter faith in my captain! So go ahead! give me your worse! And once I get out of here! I'll kick all of your asses! And make you regret it!!" the goons pushed her to the ground and tied a rope around her mouth. "Shut up! Just give up!" they grabbed her by the hair and began to drag her away to the prison cells nearby.

After the navigator was dragged away, the group came out. "Traffy! We could've kicked their asses! Why did you stop us!?" Law looked down; his eyes covered by his leopard patterned hat. "She was trying to save the plan! Idiot!" he said. He's frustrated, anyone could tell that. "She knows we were here!" law looked away, covering his face.

"Navigator-ya, I promise...I'll get you back! One way or another!"

______________________________________________________________

Scenario II

"It's over, finally" she smiled as the reindeer wrapped her wounds. "Make sure to be careful, your wounds were really bad!" the reindeer jumped down from the chair. "Thank you, Chopper, I already feel so much better!" chopper had a goofy smile on his face, "Shut up, I don't want you thank you's" he started doing his dances with a smile on his face. Once he stopped, he placed some medicines on the table. "Make sure to take this if you feel any pain" the navigator nodded and saw the deer run off to take care of another patient. She looked out the window and saw lanterns floating up into the sky. "Wow! That looks so cool!"

All the lanterns had lettering on them, some you could see, others you could not. Admiring them from her window, it was truly a sight to see. "It looks like a scene out of a book. Like a romance book almost" she started to imagine the scene right in front of her. "The male lead standing next to the female lead. Looking at her with loving eyes, looks like she's made to be second only to the goddess of love herself. Aphrodite," a smile appeared on her face, turning towards the doorway. Seeing the man of the hour, "Don't you agree, Captain?" Law looked at the navigator, with his usual look of annoyance. The women had the same smile on her face she had for year's. "Don't you think it looks beautiful?" Law walked towards her, stomping. He was acting anger, yet, she didn't care.

One thing she realized, is that life is so much more than one person. It can have so many wonderful things, was he one of the things she loved in this life? Yes, but sometimes you must accept. He may never love you back, it's the sad thing that she accepted. She knew he refuses to love her back. "Captain-" "Stop talking Navigator-ya"

The woman looked at him, waiting for him to say something. "You're stupid, you are the definition of idiocy. The definition of stubbornness" he glared at her. Why does she smile like that? Does she not care that they almost died? "You are someone who dives into situations, like that idiot straw hat. Why do you? Do you wanna die that much Navigator-ya?" for the first time in her time with Law. He looked Sad, anger, and lastly horrified. "You are someone that everyone in the crew needs! Why don't you realize that? You help Bepo when he messes up the Navigation. You help penguin whenever he messes up the cooking, you help Shachi sew the crew's clothes, you help me..." a moment of hesitation overcame him. A deep breath, feeling his chest rise and fall. "You help me with everything" he looked at her with anxious eyes. "You help me manage files, you drop everything you're doing, to come by my side. Even from the moment we met you did that. You someone who I don't understand, you-"

"I'm in love with you, Law."

Law face didn't change, he knew. "Every time, I see you. I see the memories of us, of all the things we've been through. I realize I love you. I love you so much" the tears she felt prickling in her eyes. "I know though, you might not love me back. No matter how much I do, I don't think I would be able to show it. Trafalgar Law, you changed me. I thought, I would never be able to love because of this cruel world." The tears fell down her cheeks, the light of the lanterns highlighted them. "I can't believe I'm crying over this" she laughed as she wiped her tears, Law watched as he stared at her.

Law grabbed her by her arm and pulled her close. In a single moment a swift kiss was given to her. "Navigator-ya, please forgive me for being such an idiot towards you."

______________________________________________________________

Scenario III

The entire crew had left to go explore the island, only two were left on the ship. The navigator and the captain, "Navigator-ya, how's does going to the southwest sound?" he asked her while studying some books he recently got. The navigator nodded in agreement as she kept staring at her captain. Law, being the preceptive man he was noticed almost immediately. "Navigator-ya, stop staring at me. Focus on your work" he stated as he kept reading.

She giggled as she went back to reading analyzing a star map right in front of her. "It's too hard to focus" she looked over the map so many times, nothing is going to change the way it looks. It did give her some new constellations to bond with but that's about it. "This map you wanted me to study at most gives me the opportunity to bond with new constellations. That's it" Law sighed, frustrated. "Can't you set a course for us with that map" he looked up at from his book, turning himself towards the woman that was on his couch.

The navigator was wearing the familiar boiler suit, yet she had the upper part of boiler suit down to her waist. A black tank top under it, she's being distracting. "Captain, the star's move everyday even if it's just a little" she looked up at him. The same carefree look she always had on her face. "So, it causes a little bit of trouble navigating-" she felt law towering over her.

"Captain?" Law glared down at her, "Captain, it's not nice to stare" she giggled as he glared down at her. This woman was infuriating, people would usually quiver seeing the surgeon of death glare down at her. The woman studied her captain, seeing the familiar yellow shirt showing off his tattoo. "Nice Tattoos, captain" she smirked at him, "You know, if you keep undressing me with your eyes, Navigator-ya, I'm going to catch a cold."

She tried to process what he just said to her, once she has processed what he said to her. The woman face went beat red,

"W-What!?"

#one piece #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw

[ursarangler]

[A video is attached. It seems to have been taken the previous night. It looks like it was taken from the woods, peeking out from some thick brush at a fishing pier that extends out a ways into the Lake of Rage. Kenneth can be vaguely seen sitting at the end of the pier, drinking bourbon straight from the bottle and staring out into the lake. Two hushed voices can be heard talking behind the camera.

??? 1: That's him?

??? 2: Yeah, that's the guy. I heard from a buddy of mine who lives here that he's been acting kinda mopey lately. I know the boss said not to come up here, but look at him. Look at him. That's an easy target if I ever saw one.

??? 1: I don't know, man. He's still build like a brick shithouse.

The camera moves in a bit closer as the unknown voices move through the brush. Kenneth seems to remain unaware, staring into the bottle as it's caught by the moonlight. The sound of a pokeball activating can be heard.

??? 1: Hey, wait...! You're not actually planning on—

??? 2: This might be the best shot we have at taking him out! If we do that—if we succeed where everyone else failed and kill this fucker dead—then we'll be next in line for executive for sure! Hell, this town might even thank us for getting this damn psychopath out of here.

??? 1: Are you trying to get yourself killed!?

??? 2: "Yourself"!? No, no, we're going into this together. We swore up together, you knew what you were getting into coming out here with me, no chickening out now. Besides, with how he is now, we should be able to take him out if we can get the drop on him.

The two voices, now clearly identifiable as Rocket grunts, creep ever closer. Kenneth sets the bottle down and continues to gaze out into the lake.

Grunt 2: Are you ready?

Grunt 1: No.

Grunt 2: Too bad. Alright let's g-

The second grunt is cut off by a loud thump noise that knocks the camera to the ground, covering the feed in darkness. This is quickly followed by a yelp and some pained groans.

Grunt 1: Are you okay...!? What happened!?

Grunt 2: Ugh... What the fuck? Did someone just throw a rock at me!? Fuck fuck fuck, it hurts...

Grunt 1: Shit, you're bleeding a lot. Alright, fuck this stupid plan of yours, let's... Oh. Oh no.

Grunt 2: What, oh no wh—

The sound of an Arbok being sent out is heard followed by panicked yelling and scrambling into the woods. At the same time, something can be heard approaching rapidly, roaring in pure rage. It can be heard snarling and wrestling with the Arbok for a minute, crunching and snapping indicating that the snake's bones are being broken, scales being peeled away. The poison type hisses and cries out in pain as it's beaten and drug away from the phone, a loud crunch indicating that something major has been broken before a brief silence, then the sound of something being tossed into the lake.

Heavy, growly breathing can be heard for a moment, then the assailant growls something unintelligible in North Sinnohan before storming past the camera again and taking off deeper into the woods. The camera continues rolling for a while. Not much is heard at first apart from the sounds of wildlife, something splashing on the surface of the lake, and some quieter footsteps. After about five minutes of ambiance, two distant, terrified screams are heard. After that, several more minutes of silence are recorded before the phone runs out of storage space and the video ends.]

Found this by the lake last night. Damn Mandibuzzes. These bastards ain't even waiting for me to die, they're picking at my bones while I'm still trying to breathe. I need to pull my shit together. Ain't no use moping if it's just gonna make the Rockets cocky and get me targeted like this. So what if Martin just sees me as a tool to provide blood for his little "goddess of pain" or whatever, so what? That ain't my problem. My life ain't gotta end just because I'm alone again.

I've been alone before. I was alone for decades. I can damn well be alone again.

#dogposting #pkmn irl #pokeblog rp #pokeblogging #cw pokemon harm #cw death implied

[o5-the-daughter]

Eight, as someone with a whole lot of dogs, do you have any advice for the small council that got all those puppies somewhat recently?

I normally space stuff out so I don't have more than one or two pups at a time, so I'm not sure if anything I've got to say would also apply to a larger group of babies, but y'know. Here goes nothing, I guess.

Potty training should happen first - since one of them has a dog already, as far as I recall, I'll assume that that's been dealt with. Otherwise, going outside about every two-ish hours - after waking up, during and/or after play, about an hour after eating, etcetera - to approximately the same spot each time should do the trick. Also helps with leash training.

Getting them used to people being around should happen as early as possible too, again likely no problem because of the living situation. If one or multiple of them get anxious around people, getting them used to first one person, then two at a time and so on should work, though it might take a few weeks until they're ready to socialize properly.

If they're all gonna stay there, especially with the same person, that Magnolia should make sure that all of them have a designated food bowl and bed, and that all of them stick to their own as much as possible. Will likely be hard in the beginning, but will also prevent inflighting both now and later on. Bringing some distance between the beds and feeding them one after another rather than all at once could work, otherwise putting the beds and bowls in separate rooms alltogether is an option. The latter could make it hard to get them to stay in one singular room together once they're trained to recognize their own stuff as theirs, but better that than arguments at feeding time.

Having especially a bunch chew toys is important - best more chew toys than pups, with a few different sizes and so on. Could consider getting some interactive toys if those exist already or make some on their own.

Adding onto the last two points, each of them should also get a toy that's just theirs. Could be a ball, a blanket or a plushie, whatever, as long as it's just theirs. Ain't 100% necessary, but most of mine liked having that kind of comfort item.

Depends on the dog here, but spray bottles can work pretty well when they're teething. Spray them once, say "[name], no.", hand them a chewie instead. Will likely take a few times until they get the point.

If it hasn't happened yet, for the love of god, give them proper, easily distinguishable names. Otherwise, almost all of the above is gonna be absolute hell.

#a questioning mind #comfort in the chaos

[phonkg]

02 // #0560 - Manic

"Scrafty, the Hoodlum Pokémon, Dark and Fighting Type. They can smash concrete blocks with their kicking attacks. The one with the biggest crest is the group leader. The group leader also tends to be the one that sacrifices." — Scrafty's Pokédex Entry

In a deal, both parties must be truthful and trustful.

If one were to deceive, the whole operation goes to hell.

The bridge falls, and a war commences.

Such is the unspoken rule of the streets.

Credibility is a mandatory requirement to start a business.

And sometimes... some kicks and punches are needed, too.

.   .   .   .   .   .

15 October 491

I turn sixteen today, the minimum age for the gang to allow a Scraggy to go see how a transaction works.

Walking into the alley of our turf, I feel so much safer already. It's basically like a home to me now, not that I had a home to begin with.

There's only about seven or eight people here, maybe they're out there doing business. The alley's still lively, though.

<???>

Ayy, Chrys! 'sup with you, man?

A Scrafty calls for me.

<Me>

...nothin' much, Theon. Where the rest of 'em go?

<Theon>

Dealin'. Heard it's our biggest shot yet.

<Theon>

Heck, even the leader went as well. You know, be the representative and shit.

<Me>

That's a good thing, right...? We might just get famous from this.

<Theon>

Still, it sounds too good to be true, Chrys. Too good...

<???>

Hey, Chrys, Theon!

<Theon>

Aughn.

Another Scraggy comes over to us, carrying some zip bags with them.

<Aughn>

Look what I've found. Some leftovers from previous deals.

<Theon>

You sure got a lot of them.

<Aughn>

Fuck yeah! What do we got here? LSD, some mushrooms, weed... sure, it's leftovers, but it doesn't matter if it works.

<Aughn>

By the way... Chrys, your birthday's this week, yeah?

<Me>

It's today, actually.

<Aughn>

Nice timing, then. You're sixteen now, should be able to take one of these!

Aughn tries to toss me a bag of crystal.

I... I don't think I'm ready for it yet. I swiftly put it back.

<Me>

Yeah, I'll pass.

<Aughn>

Oh, come on. Grow a pair of balls, already. Once you get a taste of it, you'll never have enough, man!

<Me>

Heh heh, I'm just scared of its side effects...

<Aughn>

It's nothing to worry about. You have us, right here! These are the finest shit in Zeroid, you know? You're missing out...

<Theon>

Chrys just turned sixteen, Aughn. Sooner or later, he's gonna acquire a taste for these by himself.

<Theon>

Now, just leave him be. It's not like we're gonna stop making these.

<Theon>

...pass me the cannabis.

<Aughn>

Well... okay, if you say so.

<Aughn>

Then, I'll have these all by myself! See ya, suckers!

<Theon>

Heh, get outta here.

Aughn picks up all the bags and leaves.

Theon really saved me just now. It's not like I don't want to do it, it's that... I can't get over my own moral principles yet...

I feel like I've been left out from the group if I don't do it, but still...

<Me>

Maybe I should've at least tried...

<Theon>

Don't do it if you don't want it. Aughn committed his entire future into this, that's why he does it.

<Theon>

You, however, don't HAVE to stay here, get me? Zeroid's so big that it's impossible to starve to death here.

<Theon>

There's a lot of other things to do other than being a pusher.

<Theon>

Huff...

The Scrafty ignites the joint he just rolled up and takes a puff.

This IS where I belong. I have nowhere else to go anymore.

If I have to be a filthy drug seller to stay, so be it. I have friends here that understand and accept me, after all. That's all I need.

<Theon>

Chrys, do you want to...

<Theon>

...no, never mind.

He hands me the joint, before pulling it back.

What's that supposed to mean? That I don't have the balls to take even a joint?!

<Me>

Don't look down on me, I can take it!

<Theon>

HEY!

I snatch his spliff.

To show that I ain't a fucking pussy.

<Theon>

GIVE IT BACK, YOU FUCK.

He takes it back almost instantly.

His eyes... I've never seen Theon staring at me like that.

<Me>

Gasp...

<Theon>

...huff. Don't ever do that again.

<Theon>

You do this to anybody else, and you'll be dead in a second.

<Theon>

Besides... weed's the low tier one. Trust me, you'll grow over it in just a week.

<Me>

I've seen you taking that for years...

<Theon>

People take drugs for the 'high'. This is enough high for me.

<Theon>

Enough 'bout that. So Chrys, have you been practising your headbutting...

<???>

HUFF... HUFF... FUCK GUYS... WE'VE BEEN AMBUSHED...!

Several Scrafties come running back to the turf. Their words send us all in shock, especially since some of them were originally Scraggies.

They evolved... which only means that something bad has happened... they witnessed something they shouldn't.

<Theon>

What happened?

<???>

We were supposed to meet up with the Toxtricities... some group of fucks showed up and fucked us over...

<???>

They took our shit and... leader's killed.

<Me>

What?

<Theon>

Huh!?

That shook us all.

Our leader's... dead? The most powerful Scrafty of us all... killed?

That's... a hard pill to swallow.

<Theon>

...fuck.

<???>

Shit, what do we do now...!?

<???>

How the fuck should I know?! We suffer severe loss, and our boss dead...

<???>

I evolved, after seeing him killed... it's traumatising...

<???>

What's gonna happen to us...?

<Theon>

GUYS, SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Theon lets out a loud cry and quiets down the entire alley.

<Me>

Theon...?

<Theon>

Okay, guys, listen to me. I know y'all are devastated now, but it's situations like these that we must remain calm and not running around, screaming.

<Theon>

If the leader's no more... we simply have to pick a new one.

<Theon>

Call everybody here. We'll be having a meeting, pronto.

<???>

O... okay!

With that, the gang starts moving again.

That's impressive, being able to sort things out immediately...

Maybe him being a Scrafty ain't something coincidental.

<???>

Alright, everyone's present, I think.

<Aughn>

What's the ruckus about, man?

<Theon>

Idris' dead. The deal's a bust.

<Aughn>

What, the leader!? Holy shit...

<???>

So we're gonna pick our new boss now, huh? Who wants to be?

The gang falls silent.

Not a surprise. A leader has to organise the entire group and look after all the members. It's far from an easy task.

The Scraggies and Scrafties look at each other. The panic only rises.

<???>

Oh, come the fuck on! Without a leader, we'll be fucked! We're in Zeroid, man! We won't survive a day here...

<???>

Quit whining, dude. You complaining is just gonna fuck us over even more.

<???>

I'm just here for the acid. Count me out of this confusing shit...

<???>

Is no one gonna do it!?

Out of nowhere, Aughn raises his hand.

<Aughn>

Theon should do it.

<???>

Huh?

<Theon>

What you talkin' about?

<Aughn>

Look. Theon's been a Scrafty the longest here. Plus, he's got a working brain. And he showed us his capability to put us all in order just now, didn't he?

<Aughn>

Any objections?

It falls silent again.

<Aughn>

Great! If that's the case, Theon'll be our new boss! Meeting adjourned!

<Theon>

What the fuck, man?! I didn't ask for this!

<Aughn>

Aw, have faith, bro. I've known you for years, you can do it.

<Theon>

You think I want to be a Scrafty!?

<Aughn>

Look, just do this for the gang, a'ight? We really need a capable leader, and you're the perfect candidate.

<Aughn>

Do this for our sake, okay?

<Theon>

...I... agh, for fuck's sake.

<Theon>

Fine, I'll do it.

<Aughn>

Ayy...! I know you'll handle it just fine.

Aughn slaps on Theon's shoulder, before leaving the scene.

<Me>

What a turn of events! You're the mothafuckin' boss now!

<Theon>

Yeah, heh heh...

<Theon>

Sorry, Chrys. Was about to treat you since it's your birthday... but I don't think I can walk away now.

<Theon>

Here. 1500 bucks. Go get yourself something good to eat.

He just hands me some money to treat myself.

I really wanted to help, but it seems like it's final. Theon always babies me, or everyone that's not a Scrafty.

<Me>

Th... thanks.

<Theon>

If we got everything settled down and there's another deal, I'll bring you along, 'kay?

<Me>

That'd be great...

Holding onto the money, I get off the alleyway.

How am I gonna spend this fifteen hundred...?

...there goes another birthday again.

A handful of shit happened, I shouldn't ask too much...

.   .   .   .   .   .

19 October 491   >> 4 days later

It's been four days after our previous leader died and Theon took over.

With him on lead, our gang didn't succumb to the harshness of Zeroid. In fact, we got the business back to working almost instantly thanks to him.

<Theon>

Hey, Chrys. Looked everywhere for ya, man.

<Me>

What's the big deal?

<Theon>

Exactly. We're gonna have another deal today. You'll be coming.

I take some time to process that.

<Me>

Huh...?

<Theon>

Ready up. We'll be heading out later. This is our first time dealin' with a human.

<Me>

A human!?

We're pushing to a human? Our business has expanded this quick already?

<Theon>

Yeah dude. Including you and me, there'll be seven members going. The rest will have to stay, though. A shame for them, but we can't risk leaving our turf empty...

<Theon>

What do you say? Wanna come?

<Me>

O... of course I'm coming!

A deal between a Pokémon and a human... it's definitely a huge breakthrough for us.

There's no way I'm not going.

<Me>

I... I'm gonna go prep up...

<Theon>

Hurry up, eh? We'll be leaving soon.

I can't hide my excitement...

Can't believe my first shot will be this big...

...I'll certainly learn a lot from this.

.   .   .   .   .   .

On our way to the meet up spot.

It looks like I'm not the only Scraggy here, there are other young 'uns and rookies like me.

And I get to hold the package. A ten kilos suitcase with all kinds of shit in it.

<???>

Doing this with a human... how sick is that?!

<???>

Hey, Chrys, you excited 'bout this, right?

<Me>

Heh heh, chill...

<Theon>

Chrys' right. Don't panic. Us Scrafties have done this countless times. Relax.

<Theon>

...it should be this street here. Nice choice, all secluded and stuff. Looks like this human's a veteran, too...

<Theon>

Chrys, protect the products, okay? It worths a lot.

<Me>

I know. Don't need you to remind me.

We all patiently wait for our guest to arrive.

Soon enough, a Flygon slowly descends from the sky and lands in front of us.

<Theon>

...about time.

A man gets down from the saddle.

There are scarves on both the man and Flygon's necks.

<???>

Thanks for the ride, Kale.

<Theon>

What an entrance.

<Theon>

An adventurer, huh? That's something new, ain't it?

<Theon>

I'm Theon. Pleased to make this transaction.

He offers his hand out to shake, but the man seems to not take that offer.

<???>

Laurus.

<Laurus>

This is your small little gang, hm.

<Laurus>

Show me the stuff.

<Theon>

A little rude, but I guess if you have the cash to...

BANG.

As soon as Theon turns around...

...a gunshot.

That was a gunshot.

And a headshot.

In that split second, the man draws out a pistol...

...and kills Theon.

<???>

LEADER...!!

<Laurus>

I was praying for it to be a one-shot kill, since Scrafties do have hard skulls...

<Laurus>

KALE. TRAP THEM.

After a cry, the Flygon stomps the ground.

Several rocks erupt from the ground and cut off our way back. We have been surrounded...

<???>

FUCK, WE'RE STUCK!!

<Me>

Theon... THEON...

His body... his corpse falls in front of me.

It's... it's... blood...

Holy shit...

At that moment, my body begins to glow. The fear, the dread... all of 'em are too much for me...

I evolve, into a Scrafty.

<Me>

I... I...

<Laurus>

OUT, NILE!

The man tosses out a Poké Ball, summoning a Swampert.

It's around that time that I see just how dangerous a ruthless trainer can be.

<Me>

A... a trainer...

<Laurus>

IT'S CUNTS LIKE YOU THAT TAINT THIS CITY...

<Laurus>

I'M GONNA ROOT OUT THESE WEEDS.

<Laurus>

NILE, KALE, CRUSH 'EM ALL.

The two Pokémons let out a roar.

<???>

RUN, MAN, I...

A Scrafty blocks in front of me, only for him to be slammed away by the Swampert.

The rest come to help as well.

<???>

GET OUT OF HERE, CHRYS. You have the stuff... protect them with your fucking life...

<Me>

YOU STILL CARE ABOUT THE PRODUCTS...

<???>

PROTECT THEM. WITH YOUR FUCKING LIFE. WE MIGHT BE FINISHED HERE, BUT WITH THAT... IT'S NOT OVER...

<Me>

LOOK OUT!!

<???>

SHIT...!!

The Swampert returns and lunges at them. One of the Scrafties clenches his fist, hoping to clash with it.

Only to be assaulted by the Flygon with its tail, which knocks him away and deals major damage.

<Me>

Holy shit... this ain't good, this ain't good...

<???>

We have to get the trainer... GET THE TRAINER...!

Several Scrafties then rush towards the human.

<Laurus>

Hmph. Going for me, huh?

We thought if we get the boss, his Pokémons will no longer be the threats.

Turns out, he’s the biggest threat.

He unholsters his pistol again, and fires some quick bullets...

...all of which hit the attackers’ head accurately.

<Laurus>

...don’t ever underestimate us humans.

Our group is almost wiped out.

I muster all the remaining courage I can squeeze out from myself, and manage to stand up.

Checking the rocks, I find an opening that I can fit through.

<Me>

I... need to tell them...

I need to run. I have to run.

All of them died protecting this suitcase I’m carrying... they died for a profit they won’t get... I have to avenge them.

Avenge Theon...

A deep breath taken, I run towards the opening.

<???>

Run... Chrys...

BANG.

<Laurus>

Hmm.

<Laurus>

Return, Nile.

<Laurus>

...they should have a main base nearby.

<Laurus>

Follow that Scrafty, Kale. He’ll lead us to them.

<Laurus>

AND I’LL FUCK ‘EM UP...

.   .   .   .   .   .

I scurry, and before I know it, I’ve returned.

How am I gonna tell ‘em? That our recently chosen leader is dead again...?

I am so scared, I really am. Witnessing my friends and my brethrens killed in front of me, instead of anger, I was fearful... running away from their corpses...

How much can I take... before I fucking lose it!?

<Aughn>

Hey...

<Me>

STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!

<Aughn>

Whou...!

Aughn appears behind me.

<Aughn>

Hold on... you’re Chrys?

<Me>

...mm.

<Aughn>

Holy shit, you evolved...! And... what the fuck happened, man, you got blood all over!

<Me>

It’s not my blood...

<Me>

It’s Theon’s...

<Aughn>

......

<Aughn>

He... he’s dead...?

I silently nod.

<Aughn>

HOW... HOW DID IT HAPPEN, MAN!? HE WAS THE STRONGEST OF US ALL!

<Aughn>

You’re shitting me, right, Chrys?

<Aughn>

TELL ME!!

He grabs my shoulders and shakes me.

He couldn’t take it in.

...can’t blame him. I couldn’t take it in, either. Even if I saw it happened right in front of me...

...I still can’t believe Theon’s dead... along with the rest.

<Laurus>

So this is where you’re hiding...

<Aughn>

Fuck.

It’s the scarfed Flygon and the human.

They followed me... back to the turf.

<Laurus>

You know, you have that Scrafty to thank for. He leads to your gang’s demise.

<Aughn>

CHRYS... YOU LED THEM BACK!?

<Me>

I...

<Laurus>

Now then...

<Laurus>

...to finish an adventurer’s job.

<Me>

NO, PLEASE... NO MORE KILLING...!! NO MORE —

Bang.

Another gunshot.

...through Aughn’s skull.

<Laurus>

Scums like you don’t deserve to have mercy anymore.

His body falls on me and both of us drop to the ground.

<Laurus>

How many have you killed with your products, huh?

He fires another bullet towards Aughn, intending for it to pierce through and kill me.

<Laurus>

...adieu.

<Laurus>

Come, Kale. There’s more to finish off.

They soon left the scene.

Aughn’s body rests on me. I can’t move it... I don’t want to move it...

I’m afraid...

I just... want to... sleep it all away...

Aughn’s so warm... I know it’s gonna turn cold soon...

I don’t... want to wake up...

.   .   .   .   .   .

It is night.

I can feel... pecking...? And... something else’s moving...

I move Aughn’s corpse away... only to find some maggots around him and some on myself.

<Me>

AGH, WHAT THE FUCK...!?

I quickly shake them off.

As for the pecking, it’s the Fletchlings, which fly away from my scream.

<Me>

Aughn... can’t even recognise his face anymore...

I look at his carcass. The maggots crawling around him really makes me wanna puke.

But this solidifies one fact... he’s dead... and probably the rest of them, too...

I only manage to survive because the bullet meant for me got stuck in Aughn’s hard skull.

He protected me better dead... than I do for my gang alive...

...funny. How funny.

<Me>

Everyone’s gone...

<Me>

I lure him into the alley... in other words...

<Me>

I... killed them all.

I sit down and lean against the wall.

I look at my hand... heh, all this so that my skin tone could be darker and have a mohawk crest.

I... fucked us all.

Me running away... fucked the whole gang up...

I’m so sorry, Theon, Aughn...

I’M SORRY...

......

......

...the suitcase...

...yeah, the products...

I pull the suitcase closer, opening it.

Ten kilos worth of shit. Cocaine, acid, meth...

Aughn tried to feed me one of those, but I couldn’t do it...

...and now...

...anything... that can make me forget this shitshow...

...even for just a minute... will do...

<Me>

Meth... meth should do...

I take out the bag of ice, and pour some of them into my palm.

I think I saw them snorting it in... I guess I’ll do the same...

<Me>

Sniff...

<Me>

...ACHOO...!! Shit...

I sneeze it out. This shit’s real irritating, how’d they do it daily?

But... I think it’s kicking in...

Heh heh heh... holy shit, it really works...

NEVER, EVER HAVE I FELT... SO FUCKING GOOD...!!

HOLY FUCK... IT’S LIKE ENERGY JUST GENERATES ENDLESSLY INSIDE ME...!!

NO WONDER EVERYONE WANTS THIS SHIT... THIS SHIT KICKS ASS!!

Holy shit... calm down first...

...LET’S... HEH HEH... don’t get too ahead of myself...

Ten kilos... that’s a lot...

...maybe I can... push them myself...

...then... with the money I got... I can start a gang...

...and... HEH HEH... AND OUR GANG WILL BE REBORN!!

THAT’S RIGHT... I’LL REPENT FOR MY SIN...

GATHER THE SCRAGGIES AND SCRAFTIES AGAIN... EVERYTHING WILL BE BACK TO NORMAL...!!

I JUST... WANT A PLACE I CAN BELONG...

It doesn’t matter if I have to do this... be a fucking filthy ass pusher... IT DOESN’T MATTER!!

AH HA HA HA... I’LL BUILD IT BACK UP AGAIN...

AUGHN, THEON... YOU’LL BLESS ME, RIGHT?

I... WILL FUCK THE WORLD UP...

ZEROID, WILL BE MINE TO RULE...!!!

I... I’LL KILL WHOEVER DARES TO OPPOSE ME...

THEON... AUGHN...

<Me>

Sniff...

......

...you’ll be proud of me, right?

I’LL BUILD BACK... WHAT I’VE DESTROYED.

......

......

...please... just forgive me...

...please...

...sniff.

end of transmission, 19 / 10 / 491

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[bonkbong]

Just Dance

"Besties, can y'all hurry up? We already two hours late!"

Yuna and Ivin immediately came down the stairs sharing a bag of chips and giggling about something on Yuna's phone.

Gay.

"Where is your sister and Sana?" I blinked, ignoring the incoming messages from Nayeon wondering where we were.

"Sana is curling her hair and Aloni doing her edges, for once," Ivin mumbled.

"Hurry up, bitches!" I yelled up the stairs.

"Whose car are we taking?" Yuna asked.

"Aloni's," I answered, grabbing the keys from the kitchen counter and tossing them to her. "Go there and start the car. And make sure to turn the heat on cause it's cold as fuck outside," I rolled my eyes.

"C'mon," Ivin nodded, heading out the door.

I jogged back upstairs while answering the incoming FaceTime call from Nayeon as I peeked inside the bathroom Sana and Aloni were in.

"Mama, I know, we're late as fuck"

"Yes! Where the hell are you guys? Everyone is asking about you"

"Girl...now be forreal. Ain't nobody asking about us"

"Uh-huh! Mingi and Jackson keep asking about Aloni, Moon is wondering about Sana, and I've had about three people wonder where you are. Not to mention, I need help keeping everything in line cause just about everyone in here is drunk!"

"Girl, I'm trying to rush them but-"

"We're done!" Sana clapped, smiling at me.

"You've been getting ready since six...," I told her.

"What's wrong with that?" she frowned.

"It's eleven!"

"We're coming now. Literally walking out of the door," Aloni told Nayeon, ushering me and Sana down the stairs.

"I better see you in the next twenty minutes"

"You will!" Sana assured her.

"Does everybody have everything cause I'm not turning around," Aloni announced, turning off the rest of the lights in the house.

"Yes, girl. We got everything," I nodded.

"Let's roll and party then," she mumbled as we left the house.

The ride there took about fifteen minutes and then some, considering the dispensary run Ivin needed to get her some more weed, but we made it there safely and without a problem. It was freezing as we walked down the block to the only lively house on the block, Aloni suffering and complaining the most since she wanted to dress like it was the summer knowing it was dead in the middle of December.

"It's so fucking cold, oh my God," she cried, teeth clattering and arms rubbing her arms.

"That's what you get for dressing like a slut," Ivin laughed.

"Right like whose pants are you trying to get into tonight?" Yuna asked.

"Mingi," me and Aloni answered at the same time.

"I support!" Sana happily clapped.

"And then we're gonna get Donavon some dick," Aloni confidently spoke making me frown at the outrageous comment.

I don't know what that girl is talking about.

"Don't group me in your bullshit," I told her, stepping over somebody passed out in the walkway of the house. "I'm not looking for any of that tonight. I'm just here to have a good time with my friends on a Friday night," I shrugged.

"Well, at least get a luh drunk and high," Ivin encouraged while taking a hit from her Breeze.

"Oh girl, the drinks will be drunk tonight," I nodded.

Everyone rang out in 'periods' as we climbed the stairs and entered the house, my eyes widening at the number of people packed into this goddamn house.

It was only two stories. And it was huge but still.

I'm sure it was enough people here to fit in one of them nice ass houses in Indian Village or something.

"YOU'RE HERE!"

We all turned at the voice while Ivin closed the door behind us, Jihyo making her way through the sea of bodies and drunk as all outdoors.

Baby was glowing.

"Everyone else is in the kitchen," she giggled while giving out hugs.

"How many drinks have you had?" Sana asked.

"I lost count after me and Jackson finished a whole bottle of Hennessy together," she waved off.

"Mhm," Aloni nodded, gathering us and pushing us further into the house. "Just remember to wrap it up and check for any phones. Don't want a repeat of last time!" she yelled.

"Oh my God," Ivin gasped.

"Why would you say that?" I laughed, shocked.

"Just trying to help my girl out," she shrugged.

Expertly, she maneuvered us through the crowd and safely into the kitchen that held all of our friends who decided to come out and party tonight.

Thank God.

Was tired of looking at them randoms.

"Look who finally fucking made it!" Jungkook smiled, also drunk as hell with a red solo cup raised high in the air as he removed his arm from around BamBam.

"About time," Moon scoffed.

"The hell took y'all so long?" Jooheon asked, looking between all of us.

"These bitches," Ivin said while pointing at Aloni and Sana.

"Y'all look cute!" Yeji complimented, eyes lingering on them a little too long.

I always knew she was gay.

"Fine as fuck!" Dahyun smiled.

"Thank you," Sana giggled.

"Fuck that, where the drinks at?" Ivin asked, pushing her way through. "I am not trying to remember this night tomorrow and y'all bullshitting," she rolled her eyes.

"What are y'all drinking?" Aloni asked, surveying the counter full of alcohol.

"Everything," Jungkook answered. "But...y'all gotta start with two shots of Henny and two shots of the Casa. Just for a lil warm-up," he shrugged, smirking.

"I'm not drinking," Yuna shook her head.

"Girl, you not even supposed to be here. Hell nah you're not drinking," I told her.

"Shid, I am," Ivin laughed, grabbing a cup.

"C'mon, you're drinking too," Aloni smiled, nudging my shoulder as she went over to the counter.

I followed behind her and grabbed a cup as Jackson eagerly stood there with both bottles in his hands, my stomach turning at the thought of mixing my lights and darks.

But, I couldn't be a pussy.

If everyone else was doing it then so am I.

Period.

"Have y'all smoked too?" Aloni asked as Jackson poured her up.

"Uh, not yet. We can after y'all drink up," Vernon shrugged.

"Bet that up," Ivin nodded.

Together, the four of us downed our shots with no problem and then took another as one large group before starting to disperse from the kitchen.

"Are you smoking with us?" Aloni asked me as they all prepared to go outside.

"Uh...I'll go out there with y'all. I'm not smoking," I shook my head.

"That's fine. Come on"

She grabbed my hand as we transitioned from the kitchen to the backyard which was less stuffy than the house but also seemed to hold a good amount of people to the point it was starting to become packed.

But, I ignored the strangers and focused on my friends as they circled through two blunts, everyone's sobriety leaving the minute the first one had been smoked up.

"High as fuck and horny as hell," Aloni slurred, stumbling over to me.

"Be so forreal," I rolled my eyes.

"I am. I ain't seen Mingi all night and like girl...where you at? I'm tryna get pregnant," she mumbled, scrolling on her phone.

Before I could even respond to that bullshit, Hotel Room Service but Pitbull started to blare from inside the house and everyone outside screamed out of pure excitement before running inside to get to the dance floor.

Me included.

Unfortunately.

"Why you so stiff?!" Ryujin frowned.

"Could you not?" I blinked.

"Loosen up a bit, mama. Shake them hips!" Jihyo encouraged.

"We at the hotel, motel, holiday inn!"

Taking Jihyo's advice, I loosened up a bit and swayed to the beat while dancing with Aloni who was having the time of her drunken life.

"Forget about your boyfriend and meet me at the hotel room!" she sang along.

"You can bring your girlfriend and meet me at the hotel room," I smiled, white girl dancing with her and a few others.

It was fun.

Until I felt a foreign grip on my waist that was completely unwanted.

"Who the-SAN?!"

He offered me a small smile while his hands remained on my waist, fingers lightly tracing shapes on my skin.

"Don't let me stop you," he spoke, a glazed-over look in his eyes as he looked at me.

"Are you drunk?" I asked, suddenly struggling to swallow.

"A lil buzzed. Not drunk. I'm pretty sober compared to half of the people in here," he laughed, eyeing the surrounding dancing bodies. "You here by yourself?" he frowned, focusing on me.

And I wish he wouldn't.

I wish he would leave me alone and go about his business doing whatever San does.

"No, I'm here with my cousins and Yuna and Sana," I forcefully answered, trying to be nice.

"I'll have to say hi," he smiled.

"Well, Aloni is right there so, go ahead," I stepped aside, gesturing to her as she danced carelessly.

"I'll be right back"

He made his way over to Aloni and immediately struck up a conversation, my mood souring as I watched them interact.

I know she said whatever they had was short-lived and pretty much over now that she's devoted to Mingi and him only but, I couldn't help but to hold a tiny grudge. Even if I was devoted to Mark.

He'll always be number one.

But, it was something that deeply bothered me seeing my cousin and my ex, whom she started to sleep with, carrying on as friends while I stood here not even wanting to talk to him. Did I expect her to do the same? Was I jealous? But, why would I be?

I have Mark. And I'm happy with him.

Right?...

"You alright?"

I looked away from the conversing pair to see Jun weirdly staring at me as he waited for an answer.

As if San wasn't enough.

"I think I just need another drink or two," I lied.

"Well, I was heading to the kitchen so...if you wanna tag along...," he shrugged.

"Sure," I smiled.

Together, we left the crowded "dance floor" and re-entered the kitchen that was now a complete ghost town. We didn't exchange too many words. But, it wasn't awkward. It was more comfortable than anything. He poured us both a double shot of Pink Whitney, we silently cheered, gulped down the liquid together, and then went about our night.

He left and I stayed to pour another shot.

And after discarding my cup after the refill in alcohol, I felt recharged. Drunkenly recharged.

It was great.

"The hell did you go?" Aloni frowned as I stepped back onto the dance floor.

"Grab another shot!" I yelled over the Lady Gaga song blaring.

"You okay?" she asked.

"I'm fine!" I assured, throwing a quick thumbs up.

"If you need anything let me-"

A tall giant by the name of Mingi emerged from the depths of Hell and threw himself all over my cousin, my mind only imagining what he was whispering to her before they both left the floor with all smiles and a pep in their step.

Well...

Let us pray for no pregnancy tests tonight.

"Wish that was you, huh?"

 "Get out of my ear, Jungkook," I shoved him off of me.

"You need to have some fun," he shrugged, sipping from his cup. "You been acting like a buzz kill all night and why? Somebody pissed you off?" he asked.

"Nobody pissed me off. I'm just vibing," I defended.

"Your face says it all, bro...," he blinked, his stare blank as he looked at me.

"Oh my God...," I groaned, growing annoyed as he just kept bothering me.

"You better thank God 'cause here comes San. I'll leave you two alone," he smirked before disappearing into the crowd.

The torture never stops.

But before I could turn around to send Mr. Choi on his way, Agora Hills started to blast through the surround sound system and I don't know if it was the alcohol in my system, the dark blue lighting that illuminated the room, the second-hand smoke from outside, or a mixture of everything but, it had me ready to dance.

With anybody.

"Sorry about-"

"You wanna dance?" I immediately asked him.

His eyes went wide for a bit before returning to their normal state as a small smile tugged at his lips while he nodded.

"Yeah"

I grabbed his hand and led him to a more open space on the dance floor and immediately stationed him behind me as I started to sway to the song, lost in the alcohol pumping through my system.

So...9:30?...I'll see you there. No, you hang up...you hang up

His hands softly gripped my hips through my jeans, his hips matching the slower pace of the song as he ground into me. And I hate to say it but...

I was enjoying it.

A little too much.

My hands found his wrists as I slowly started to bend over and be more purposeful in the way I was moving. If I was going to enjoy this then why not go all out? You know?

His nails started to dig into me since I could only assume he was holding himself back from doing anything considering we were in a public space and, again, I don't know if it was the alcohol or the song but I wanted to see just how far he would hold out. So, without thinking, I turned around to face him just to see how badly he was fighting.

You can hit while they watch, boy

We locked eyes as my arms wrapped around his neck to pull him closer.

"I thought you were with Mark," he smirked.

"I am," I nodded.

"Then why aren't you dancing with him? Why are you with me?" he raised an eyebrow, the cockiest expression on his face.

It made me mad.

And oddly turned me on.

"We're just dancing, Choi. Don't get too confident," I rolled my eyes.

"I know you, Donavon. I had you first. I know when you want me to fuck your brains out," he confidently spoke, turning me back around.

"And I can tell you want me just as bad as I want you right now"

Rub it in their face, put a rock on her hand

His right hand snaked from my waist to my neck, fingers adding just the slightest bit of pressure as his mouth latched onto my skin from the left and teeth began to carefully breach my skin in the best way possible.

This was wrong.

I'm with Mark.

But it felt so damn right.

"He could never replace me," he mumbled against my skin, purposely biting down hard enough to drag a sound out of me.

"He did," I swallowed thickly.

"If he did...you wouldn't be here," he smiled, kissing the shell of my ear.

My stomach swirled out of a plethora of emotions as a smile made its way onto my face out of my own will, my left hand intertwining with his.

He continued to abuse my neck to his heart's content as the song continued and then ended, some rap song now blaring that shifted the mood immediately.

"Donavon!"

I jumped away from San as we both turned behind us.

All the color drained from my face.

"M-Mark...hey," I awkwardly smiled.

"I've been calling you all night. What were you doing?" he frowned.

And as if the night couldn't have been worse, the lights turned from dark blue to a frenzy of bright colors that, no doubt, highlighted the hickeys on my neck.

But that was only judging from the veins popping out of Mark's neck along with his jaw that was clenched so tight his jawline was the sharpest I've ever seen it.

"Me and you. Outside. Now," he snarled.

"Oka-"

"He doesn't have to go anywhere," San interjected while holding me stationary.

"I'm not talking to you. You shouldn't even be anywhere near him," Mark rolled his eyes, patience wearing thin incredibly fast.

"He asked to dance with me so, now what?" San smirked.

My eyes widened just as Mark's eyes fell on me.

If only the ground could just swallow me alive right now.

"Is he lying?" he asked me, tongue poking his cheek.

God, he looked so fine right now but I'm in trouble so I can't but good lord.

He was so smart to go blonde.

"Answer the question, Donavon," he blinked.

"I did ask him to dance, yes," I nodded, voice shaking just a tad.

"Why?"

I don't know.

"It was the song, I swear. I don't have any feelings towards him, Mark," I assured him.

"Could've fucking fooled me," he spat.

"Dude, it's okay. You stole him from me and I just returned the favor. It's alright," San nodded, not helping in the fucking slightest.

"Please shut up," I begged him.

He just laughed as the song changed yet again, the lights lowering to a dark purple.

I didn't recognize what was playing.

But it sounded slutty. 

"Come on, Donavon," Mark said, hand held out for me to grab.

"Let's dance"

San audibly growled from next to me but I ignored his tantrum and took Mark on his offer.

He led me away, but not without sending a certain look San's way, before we were placed closer to the front door and far away from Mr. Choi. There weren't any words exchanged. He simply placed me in front of him as he took the lead and swayed us to the beat, hands clutching my wrists as he brought my hands above my head.

"How could let him taint you like this?" he suddenly asked, voice low and calm as he whispered in my ear.

"I was caught up in the moment. It didn't mean anything," I shook my head.

"But it means something to me," he emphasized. "You're my boyfriend. Not his. You shouldn't have been anywhere near him. You know how I feel about him. And you just disrespected our relationship and for what? An ex that cheated on you?"

I felt horrible.

Truly, I did.

I wasn't gonna sleep with him. I had enough sense intact not to do that and go that far. But, even dancing with him was something I shouldn't have done. Mark was right. I was with him. Not San.

And I completely walked all over that.

"I understand if you want to break up or take a break. I'm really sorry," I told him, my body now turned to face him so I could look him in the eye. "I don't have anything left for him, Mark. We're done. We've been done the minute he cheated on me. I just...I let the alcohol do all the talking for me. And I know that's not an excuse but, honestly. I...I felt a lot seeing him again," I confessed.

"You still have feelings for him, Donavon," he concluded, face stale and eyes blank.

"No, I-"

"And it's okay. Yall were whatever yall were for quite a long time. Well before I was in the picture. Just don't string me along and tell me you're focused on me but you're letting your ex give you hickeys because you're drunk," he cut me off, air-quoting once he got to drunk.

"Cousin!"

With a heavy sigh, I turned around to see Aloni frolicking over to me with a smile on her face and looking completely different than when we walked in.

She was tore up.

"Girl, what the fuck happened to you?" I frowned, confused and intrigued.

Clearly her night was going better than mine.

"I got double-teamed," she grinned.

"By who?" my jaw dropped.

Just then, Mingi and Jackson came down the stairs side by side with smiles on their faces as they dapped each other up.

"You didn't...," I gasped.

"I did," she nodded, proud of her little endeavor.

Jackson then disappeared into the crowd heading towards the kitchen while Mingi walked over and gave her a back hug.

"You're coming back to my place, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded, looking up at him.

"Good"

He smirked while pushing some of her hair out of her face.

"Yunho wants in on the fun too"

A devious grin spread across her face as I watched the entire interaction with my jaw on the ground.

"Can we smoke beforehand? I like him a lot when he's high," she told him, eyes turning ten times darker just talking about it.

What kind of shit?...

"Anything for you," he winked.

And then, with a quick kiss goodbye, he was on his way and disappeared into the sea of people.

"I love him so much," she giggled, focusing on me again.

"You two are freaky. As fuck. You should be ashamed," I teased, shaking my head.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say Mark hasn't dicked you down yet," she assumed while looking me up and down.

And then my sour mood returned.

"I don't even wanna talk about it," I mumbled.

"What happened? Where is he?" she frowned.

I turned around to find him gone and looked around in the vicinity to see if he had lingered away but after confidently determining he had disappeared from the room entirely, I turned back to her with a heavy sigh and the sudden urge to cry.

"I fucked up. Bad"

"Fuck did you do?" she asked, adjusting her top and showing off the dark hickeys all over her brown skin.

"I danced with San," I confessed.

Her eyes went wide.

"You...Donavon...," she gasped. "Why? How? When did you even see him for that to even have transpired? 'Cause when he stopped talking to me he was looking for you," she frowned.

"He ran into me before you," I rolled my eyes. "I was actually the one to point him in your direction. Then I ended up taking a shot with Jun because I got jealous seeing yall talk. Then I came back and everything started to settle in my system. And, of course, Agora Hills came on and so I asked him to dance with me," I recalled.

"You got-nevermind that. What happened when yall danced?" she asked.

"He gave me these hickeys and was just talking shit. Apparently, I had the bedroom eyes and I'm sure if we had danced anymore I probably would've ended up somewhere with him," I huffed, growing upset at the thought.

"Oh my God...," she shook her head. "So, after he gave you the hickeys, I'm assuming that's when Mark came and saw them and now he's pissed," she concluded.

"Very. He might not want anything to do with me after this," I nodded, chest growing hollow at the thought of breaking up with Mark.

But I couldn't ask him to tough it out if what I did really hurt his feelings.

I wouldn't forgive him if the roles were reversed.

So, I won't ask the same.

"Damn, cousin. You need to handle your liquor a little better. Not be so horny," she lectured, a disappointed look on her face. "But, let me work my magic and talk to him. Just don't do anything else stupid tonight. Please. I can't talk you out of two situations," she mumbled.

"You sure? I'm sure Mingi probably waiting on you somewhere in this house," I looked around.

The house was huge.

It's like a maze or something.

It was crazy.

"He's out in the back smoking with Vernon, Jackson, and Yunho. He'll be alright," she waved off.

"You trust all your niggas...whom you've had sex with...to smoke together at a party after two of them just had sex with you and the other is planning to...you're alright with that?" I frowned, making sure I wasn't crazy.

I wouldn't trust Mark and Mingyu in the same room.

Less alone Mark and Jun.

She was insane, truly.

"Donavon...when you acquire the pussy power that I possess...nothing really worries you," she said as smug and confident as ever. "Mingi is my boyfriend. Jackson was a potential until he had a corny period. Vernon was the friend with benefits. And Yunho is Mingi's homie that he's cool sharing me with. And what does all that have in common?" she hummed, a goofy smile on her face.

"Enlighten me," I groaned, tired of talking to her at this point.

I love her down.

But her situation with Mingi confuses me to the point I don't even try anymore.

Honestly.

"Me," she said while pointing to herself. "And what is the running theme between me and all of them? That I have good pussy that they can-"

"Alright!", I yelled while heading towards the door.

"Where you going?!" she yelled after me.

"I'm catching an Uber home. I don't wanna be here anymore!" I yelled over the conversation of the other guests in the area. "I'll leave the door unlocked for the other girls and will text Ivin to let her know I left and that you're not coming home!" I assured.

"Okay! Share your ride with me so I can make sure you get home!"

I just threw up a tired wave as I exited the house.

"Will do"

Saturday, 11:30 AM

"Oh, Donavon...that looks really bad..."

I rolled my eyes at Rosé's comment while propping my phone back up on my pillow.

"I know. I get sick every time I look at it"

The next morning came as fast as the night left and while I slept pretty well despite the amount of liquor in my system, I woke up this morning sicker than I've ever been.

And I knew it wasn't from the drinking. So, I decided to confide in my best friend.

I was going to call Aloni but remembered the eventful night she and Mingi had planned and I would rather not answer the phone to see her getting her back blown out...again.

Horrific times.

"And did he say he wanted to break up?" Rosé asked, refocusing my attention. "Or did you put the idea out there after he had talked about how bad you and San hurt him?"

"I put the idea out there," I sighed. "I could see in his face how bad the whole thing affected him and I know if it had been the other way around, I wouldn't have even wasted time talking to him. I would've left and never talked to him again."

"Right...so, what're you gonna do? Have you thought about calling him today?" her eyebrows crinkled.

 I shook my head, "Aloni said that she would talk to him last night but I didn't hear from her outside of when she made sure I was home and alright. I was gonna call her first but...she and Mingi had plans that I didn't want to interrupt."

"I see," she hummed. "Maybe you should call her. To at least see where you're gonna go from there," she suggested.

"Yeah...I'll call you if anything happens," I mumbled.

"Okay. Love you!" she squeaked.

"Love you too."

I ended the FaceTime before immediately clicking on Aloni's contact from my most recent calls and patiently waited as it rang.

It took about six times but, thankfully, she answered on the seventh ring with low red eyes, a bonnet on her head, and a grin on her face.

"Hey," she dragged out, voice deeper than normal.

"Are you functional?" I blinked.

"Indeed. I'm just exhausted and was about to go to sleep," she nodded.

"About to go to-nevermind. Did you talk to Mark last night?" I asked, teeth nibbling on my bottom lip.

"I did," she straightened up.

A tiny sigh of relief escaped me.

"And he said he doesn't want to break up. Nor does he want to take a break. But...he is really distraught about the whole thing. He wanted to cry while just talking to me about it. And I get it. I do. I cussed San out for him but you need to reach out to him too. Assure him," she spoke.

"Should I do that today or-"

"Today," she interrupted, video shifting as it sounded like someone plopped in bed or something. "You don't need to let this linger. At all. He'll really break up with you then."

"Okay. Thank you," I kind of smiled. "I'll treat you to a Target splurge whenever you get home and if you can walk when you get here," I promised.

"Imma be honest...," she sucked her teeth.

But I stopped her before she could even begin.

"I do not need to hear it. Save it for Dahyun. I'm about to call Mark," I nodded.

"Okay. Good luck," she saluted.

I clicked on Mark's contact without a thought, because I probably would've backed out, and it rang all of two times before he answered.

There was nothing but darkness.

"Hello?"

I swallowed down my nerves while starting to pick at my nails.

"We need to talk..."

It was silent for a bit before the sound of shuffling filled my empty bedroom space.

"Talk"

I nibbled on my bottom lip.

"I'm sorry for what I did to you. It was wrong. And highly disrespectful. I understand your frustration with me all the way and you're completely valid. Though I never meant to hurt you. Really, I didn't. I let my own jealousy take over and then I had one too many drinks and then I did something stupid and Mark I am genuinely so sorry for hurting you like that. I love you so much. I would never want you to feel what you're feeling right now. Especially cause of me. That's what makes all of this really hard for me."

"He was nothing. He meant nothing. I just thought maybe if I had gotten the last dance with him I would silently prove to Aloni that he still wanted me which is stupid because she didn't even want him. At least, not the way I once had. She just wanted dick while she and Mingi were going through a super rough patch. And once Mingi came back into the picture, she forgot all about him. But there was something about seeing them talking and carrying about as friends that pushed my buttons. I felt in competition with her when I shouldn't."

"And I know it's stupid. He's not half the man that you are to me and I'm so grateful to have you. You treat me like no other. You're there for me like no other. The list can go on. I can write an entire ten-page essay on why you're the best match for me as compared to everything else. But you already know that. I was the one who forgot. And I swear it'll never happen again, Mark. I'm so sorry, baby. I really am."     

Quickly, I leaned out of frame while desperately wiping my eyes before he could see me cry.

Not like he hadn't seen me cry before but...

Still.

It was a little embarrassing to be the one crying when I hurt his feelings.

"You don't have to hide your tears from me. I've seen you cry before"

"It's still embarrassing"

"Why?"

"Because I shouldn't be crying"

"Why not?"

"You didn't hurt me. I hurt you. If anybody should be crying, it should be you. It just seems a little selfish"

"That's a stupid take"

I rolled my eyes at his stubbornness.

"I'm not here to argue, Mark. I'm here to apologize for last night"

"And I accept your apology"

"But..."

"There is no but. LoLo didn't tell you?"

"She did. But...I'm sure you still want your space"

"Until those hickeys pass, yeah"

"That's fair"

"After that...we'll be okay. I appreciate you for reaching out and apologizing while you were much sober"

"Yeah...I love you"

"I love you too, sweetheart. I'll talk to you later"

"Okay"

Then he hung up.

And while I felt a weight lift off of me now that everything was over...

I still felt incredibly shitty.

"Welp...," I sighed, plugging my phone into the charger before closing my curtains and turning over to face the wall.

Nothing a quick nap won't fix.

But as soon as my eyes closed and I got super comfortable, my phone started to vibrate uncontrollably making me roll my eyes and toss the covers off of me.

This damn group chat.

"Jungkook, why are you calling?" Nayeon groaned, eyes closed as she looked into the camera.

"We literally don't ever call. It's over fifteen people in this damn chat," Ryujin grumbled.

"Just wanted to make sure everyone was alive and debrief the events of the party last night," he cheekily smiled, looking between those of us who did answer.

Which was just about everyone who went to the party.

Except maybe five or six people.

"We are fine, Jungkook," I blinked.

"That's not what I heard," he sang, smiling as he stared dead at me.

Oh God...

Here he go.

"What did you hear, Jungkook?" Jihyo rasped out, face not even in the camera.

"I heard there was drama and y'all know I love a little mess. Especially from this friend group. It's always something juicy and interesting," he dragged out. 

"You woke up everybody for nonexistent drama?" Moon blankly stared into the camera.

"But there was! Jackson told me!" he defended.

"And who did Jackson hear it front?" Ryujin cocked an eyebrow.

"Aloni"

My soul left my body as I disappeared out of the camera and stared at nothing in particular in pure shock.

No way.

No fucking way she told Jackson of all people.

He can't keep shit to himself.

"Jackon, fight back," Nayeon grumbled.

No, Jackson.

Don't fight back.

"I don't even know what he's talking about. I barely even remember last night," Jackson said, eyes closed as he talked. "And if something did occur then I definitely don't remember anything being said to me."

"So, in conclusion, Jungkook's lying as he always does," I nodded.

"Bullshit!" he laughed. "You're talking a lot for a fella that-"

"What the fuck are y'all calling for?" Aloni thankfully interrupted. "We just saw each other last night. Can we not have a day to recover before debriefing? Something that bad happened?" she cleared her hoarse throat.

"Just Jungkook on bullshit," Jun waved off.

"Y'all can suck my dick. I know what the fuck I heard. One fucker made another fucker upset cause he danced with a fucker that was supposed to be in the past," he vaguely spoke, my skin burning hot.

"Who are you talking about?" Moon asked, growing visibly annoyed.

"The three of them!" he pointed.

"Who?!" Yeji yelled.

"Donavon, Mark, and San bitchass"

I dropped the phone entirely as my hands covered my eyes and I took a moment to sulk in embarrassment.

Just can't ever have a good day.

"Jungkook, why are you lying on my cousin's name?"

"Jackson fucking told me after you fucked him and Mingi!"

"Woah!"

"You did what?"

"Bro, we did not fuck"

"Jackson! Are you serious? You showed me the video!"

"Jackson, bro. You're so fucking sassy"

"Wait the fuck a minute now..."

"Now suddenly everybody wants to lie cause I'm airing all the shit out"

"Jungkook...this is something we could've done on Sunday. Plus, I really don't care who is fucking who. Do you know how many of us in this group chat have fucked each other and it's water under the bridge? Who cares? We're adults"

"But then yall find out I pissed on someone and it's a hot topic for months"

"Well...yeah..."

"You urinated on someone..."

"Fuck off"

"Can we please get off this call now? I'm tired"

"Yes, see yall"

"Bye"

I left the call in a fury of emotions but couldn't even lock my phone before there was another group FaceTime between me, Jackson, and Aloni.

Can I please go to sleep.

"Yes...," I sighed.

"We did not tell Jungkook what happened. I promise," Aloni said.

"Yall...I really don't care. I just want to catch up on some rest. It's not that serious," I assured.

"But it's fucked up he aired your business out to the group chat like that. And I don't condone that. Joke or not," Jackson said.

"It's whatever. Are we done here?" I fought to stay awake.

"Call me when you wake up," Aloni mumbled.

"Are you coming back today or tomorrow?" I asked her, already getting comfortable.

"Probably Tuesday," she thought.

"Well damn," Jackson commented.

"How much fucking are yall gonna do? Yall see each other every single day," I pointed out.

"First of all, I'm taking her out," Mingi interrupted, spawning from absolutely nowhere. "And second of all, if I want to fuck her for twenty-three hours out of the twenty-four then I will. It ain't hurting anyone," he defended.

"Except for maybe her walls and insides," I said, half-asleep.

"I'm sure she's had worse," Jackson suddenly spoke making my lips suck in as I fought the urge to burst into laughter.

Now that was a read.

Got her good.

Get her again for me.

"Probably," Mingi agreed earning a gasp out of her. "Be honest, was there anyone worse than me? And be honest. It don't matter cause I got you now but...I'm curious."

"Worse than you?...probably your homie," she answered.

"Uh oh," Jackson mumbled.

"Which one? You've had three of them," Mingi said without a care in the world.

It honestly gagged me.

Cause how do you comfortably admit that kind of information?

"I'll tell you off the phone. Goodbye Jackson and Donavon," she suddenly rushed out.

"But I was curious too," Jackson sucked his teeth.

"Okay, well, we'll start another call. Let's just end this one so my cousin can sleep. He's had quite the last few hours," she defended.

That I had.

She didn't lie there.

"Bet. See you, Donavon. Hope everything works out," Jackson sent my way.

"I hope so too," I mumbled.

"Catch you later, bud. I'll take good care of your cousin," Mingi promised.

"I have no doubt," I nodded.

"Bye, Donavon"

I left the call with a sigh of pure relief as I turned my phone off and placed it on my nightstand, my body turning back towards the wall as I lay in dark silence.

Finally.

~

wc: 6000

(pinterest board link for the fits: https://pin.it/1NwRMYO)

#Spotify