#I WANT TO BE A PERSON AND NOT PROPERTY OF NO ONE NOT MY FATHER NOT MY MOTHER NOT MY BROTHERS NOT MY HUSBAND NOT GOD FUCK THEM ALLLLLL I WANT

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Hi! Its me again! I saw your requests were open and was just wondering if you could do one of our Orc Husband Pert'ah gifting us a haircharm/hairpiece hed made? Thank you so much for your time!

pert'ah (orc oc) drabble

this can be a part five to woven bonds or a standalone!

pert'ah gifts you a hairpeice, thats all it really is

warnings/tags: arranged marriage, orc x human, youre getting closer to him everyday

word count-466 words

The morning light filtered through the cracks in the wooden walls, casting soft beams of sunshine across the small room you shared with Pert'ah. You sat near the window, absently running your fingers through your hair as you stared outside, watching the orc encampment slowly come to life. The sounds of heavy footsteps and gruff voices carried through the air, yet inside, it was quiet. Peaceful, even.

Pert'ah had left early, as he often did, to tend to his duties within the clan. You were still adjusting to this new life, far from the bustling human city you once called home. Every day, the walls of this small space pressed in on you, reminding you of the life you no longer had. You missed your freedom, your family—everything that was ripped away when your father traded you away like property.

The door creaked open, and Pert'ah’s heavy footsteps announced his return. You didn’t turn to face him right away, still trying to hold onto the small piece of yourself that refused to accept this situation. But you weren’t blind to the fact that he had never been cruel to you. In fact, despite his intimidating appearance and the circumstances of your union, Pert'ah had only ever shown you kindness—awkward, yes, but genuine.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice deep and gruff as usual, though there was a certain softness in it when he spoke to you.

“Morning,” you replied, your tone flat but polite.

Pert'ah lingered by the doorway for a moment, and you heard the faint rustle of something in his hands. You risked a glance over your shoulder, your curiosity getting the better of you. He stood there, holding something small in his large, calloused hands, his eyes fixed on it as if he were working up the courage to speak.

“I… I have something,” he mumbled, taking a few slow steps toward you. His broken English was always a bit halting, but he tried his best to communicate clearly with you. “For you.”

You turned to face him more fully, your eyes narrowing slightly. “What is it?”

Pert'ah hesitated, his thick fingers moving carefully as he extended a small object toward you. It gleamed faintly in the morning light—a hair charm, or perhaps a hairpiece, woven with intricate strands of silver and delicate beads that caught the sunlight. It looked almost too fragile for his hands to have crafted it.

“I made this,” he said quietly, his gaze shifting between the charm and your face. “For your hair. You… always touch it. Thought you would like something… special.”

You stared at the charm for a moment, unsure of how to respond. It was beautiful, finely made, and obviously took time and care to create. You never imagined that he would notice something so small—how you always fiddled with your hair, especially when you were anxious. The thought of him watching you so closely unsettled you, but the sincerity in his eyes tempered the discomfort.

“I don’t know what to say,” you murmured, still processing the gesture. “Why did you make this for me?”

Pert'ah’s brow furrowed, his tusks jutting out slightly as he thought carefully about his words. “You… are part of my life now. I want you feel… more at ease here. This place, not easy for you. I know.” His voice was quiet, almost apologetic. “I thought… maybe this could help.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached out to take the charm from his hands. The metal was cool against your skin, the beads glinting softly. It was clear how much effort he had put into it, each detail meticulously crafted. You had never been given something so personal before, and the weight of that realization settled heavily in your chest.

“You made this… just for me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his gaze softening. “Yes. Only for you.”

For a moment, you were speechless. You had spent so long building up walls between yourself and him, refusing to let him in, but this gesture—this simple, heartfelt gift—chipped away at those walls just a little. You could see now that Pert'ah wasn’t just your captor, wasn’t just the orc who had taken you from your old life. He was trying, in his own way, to make this new life bearable for you. Perhaps even… a little more.

Wordlessly, you turned the charm over in your hands, studying the way the silver strands twisted together in an intricate pattern. Then, slowly, you lifted it toward your hair, unsure of how to put it in place. Pert'ah noticed your hesitation and stepped closer, his massive hands surprisingly gentle as he reached toward you.

“May I?” he asked softly, his eyes meeting yours for permission.

You swallowed hard, your heart thudding in your chest as you nodded. He moved carefully, his fingers brushing against your hair as he slipped the charm into place. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t pull away. His movements were slow, almost reverent, as if he were afraid to hurt you.

“There,” he murmured, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “It looks… beautiful.”

You reached up to touch the charm, your fingers grazing the beads that now sat neatly in your hair. A strange, unfamiliar warmth blossomed in your chest at the compliment, at the realization that he had done something purely for you. You weren’t ready to forgive everything, or even accept your new life fully, but in this moment, you felt something shift between you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “It’s… really beautiful. I appreciate it.”

Pert'ah’s face lit up, a small, relieved smile tugging at his lips. “I am glad.”

As he turned to leave the room, you sat back down by the window, your fingers gently playing with the hair charm. It wasn’t just a piece of jewelry—it was a symbol of something more. Maybe trust. Maybe a new beginning.

Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny that it mattered.

[im2tired4usernames]

I hope what ever asshole cultist invited the stay at home daughter movement a very your dick gets rips into bits and eaten by pigs

[babycharmander]

(BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS)

I just finished reading The Book of Bill and I am kindof losing my mind over some of this stuff.

I had wondered if Alex Hirsch might make Bill sympathetic in some way and oh boy I was not expecting him to do it so successfully (and without cheapening Bill's character).

So, we learn that Bill was born into a 2D world... as a mutant who can see into the third dimension. He claims he was absolutely loved by all, but when talking about his powers, he mentions under Pyrokinesis:

"Cipher, Cipher, he's insane / Starting fires with his brain." The kids in grade school could be so cruel. But where are they now, huh? WHERE ARE THEY NOW?

So probably not quite as liked as he was letting on. To add to that, there's the silly straw page, which looks like silly nonsense until you decipher some of the codes:

"EYE DOCTOR OF A DIFFERENT KIND / WHO WANTS TO MAKE HIS PATIENTS BLIND" "THE DOCTOR SAYS / THREE SIPS A DAY / WILL MAKE THE VISIONS / GO AWAY"

I wasn't sure what this meant until I saw someone point out... he was seeing a third dimension that no one else could see. His parents probably took him to the eye doctor to try to "fix" him. Which, speaking of his eye doctor, the coded message in the section about human eyeballs says something interesting:

"MY OPTOMETRIST NEVER SAW IT COMING"

It could be a joke given beforehand he's talking about dissecting a human eye, but given the previous hints of medical abuse, I wouldn't put it past him that he tried to get revenge on his eye doctor.

Oh yeah and the whole thing about him setting his entire dimension on fire? Yeah it turns out it was entirely a mistake (he just wanted everyone to understand the third dimension he was seeing so they could be free of only two dimensions), he was so traumatized by it he blacks out when trying to recall it. He deeply, deeply regrets it, and...

"What? Your ENTIRE home dimension? destroyed? How? By what?" Bill looked distant, more distant than I'd ever seen him. "By a monster."

He sees himself as a monster.

And yet, he's not some innocent, misunderstood being. He still revels in causing pain and chaos. He's terrible in general, but becomes incredibly abusive toward Ford.

"YOU'RE MY PROPERTY. DON'T FORGET IT. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won't want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you?"

Which... speaking of him and Ford...

Yes, yes, I know people ship them. But like, whether you see their relationship as romantic or platonic (I see it as the latter), there's some interesting parallels to be made here.

Both Bill and Ford are mutants who were mocked for their being different. (Bill was not physically a mutant, as far as we know, but more in the sense of him having vision stronger than that of everyone else in his dimension, and also having special powers. And he does describe himself as a mutant.) Both became social outcasts, separated from their families but still haunted by them (Ford seeing commercials of Stan on TV and running across old photos of him and his brother, Bill being haunted by his family in some form). Neither could return home for one reason or another. Both more powerful than their peers (Ford intellectually, Bill in terms of actual powers). Both of them isolated and alone. (Yes, Bill does have the Henchmaniacs, but they seem like shallow friends, and only really seem to follow him out of a desire to have a place to party.)

Ford was not aware of most of this, aside from knowing that Bill could not go home because his dimension was destroyed. But Bill absolutely saw himself in Ford. There was no other person he tried to use whom he felt a stronger connection to.

And he actually seems to care about Ford--he actually gave him a birthday present, and when Ford didn't like it, he decided to get drunk and party with him instead to make up for it.

And then when Ford realizes what Bill's plan actually is and refuses to go along with it, and fights back no matter what Bill does, Bill completely breaks down.

After living for trillions of years, he met someone who was like him, and that person rejected him.

He goes berserk, wreaking havoc, being caught by the dimensional authority that he's been taunting for most of his life.

And then after dying and being cast out of hell for being too annoying, he winds up faced with the Axolotl, who sends him to therapy, where he continues to break down further, sending out the book in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone who will help him break loose and wreak havoc once again.

"You have no friends, and if you died ... who would even miss you?"

I don't know, Bill. Who would even miss you?

In short,

[ID: The front and back of one of Bill's Valentines cards. On the front is a black void with Bill Cipher lying down without his hat, gazing blankly upwards, with the text "I DON'T WANT TO DIE ALONE" above him. On the back is a simple white "TO/FROM" in red, with a red outline illustration of Bill spontaneously growing a mouth and eating a realistic, bloody heart. /end ID]

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 2

Part 1

Damian glared at the envelope. He and Father were in the process of analysing the letter for any signs of toxins, explosives or other traps. Obviously he wasn’t fool enough to open a missive from a questionable source without taking precautions. So far, all their scans had come up empty. Literally. The letter was defying all their attempts at chemical or spectroscopic testing, x-ray and magnetic resonance scans were inconclusive, it defied all properties of ordinary matter. It was frustrating. It was vexing. He was blaming magic.

For all intents and purposes, the letter looked like ordinary paper, with an ordinary wax seal, bearing the initials CW. The looping handwriting addressing it to Damian was precise and neat. Swiping the surface of the letter for chemical traces yielded no results. When Damian had tried to cut off a corner of the paper for analysis it had resisted all attempts, including a laser and a diamond headed cutting tool. Damian’s only satisfaction was that when Father had grunted and taken over the task from Damian, he had no more success than his son. As if Damian didn’t know how to perform the standard array of tests!

It certainly didn’t help that his siblings wouldn’t stop their incessant chattering!

“I’m just saying, ghosts wouldn’t be the weirdest thing we’ve encountered, Red. I’m not sure it would even make my personal Top 5.”

It seemed gossip among heroes travelled faster than the speed of light.

“Really, Nightwing? Ghosts? It’s far more likely to be a meta with something to hide. Or a few screws loose.” Damian could practically hear the eyeroll in Drake’s voice “And since when do ghosts act as glorified mailmen?”

“I don’t know Red, since when do aliens pretend to be Kansas farmboys? C’mon, we deal with magic users all the time!”

“And lets not forget people coming back from the dead” Red Hood interjected over the open comm line.

“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet. Any sufficiently analysed magic becomes indistinguishable from science!”

“B, a little help here?”

“Hn” Father straightened up from his position at the lab table “Oracle, any progress on clearing up the footage from Robin’s mask?”

Grayson threw up his hands with a frustrated huff while Drake smirked.

“The program is almost finished rendering. Whatever scrambler they used did a real number on the video quality. I’m surprised the audio is as clear as it is.” Oracle replied.

“Hn. And the isotope tracer on the money?”

“Sorry B, no hits on the local sensors. Wherever the guy went it’s either outside Gotham or shielded somehow.” she said, mildly frustrated.

“Maybe it’s ghost magiiiiic” Drake sing-songed. Grayson lightly cuffed the back of his head, to which the former Robin responded with a firm shove. Their interaction quickly devolved into a childish tussle.

Damian gave an annoyed huff. “Don’t you two imbeciles have anything better to do?”

“Aww, we’re just here to look out for our baby brother!” Nightwing teased.

“Yeah, we gotta make sure your ghost encounter didn’t leave any lasting psychological damage!” Red Robin added.

Before Damian could retaliate for their needling, Oracle chimed in. “Uh, guys? You’re going to want to see this. Most of the footage was corrupted beyond repair, but I was able to pull some partial stills and, well…” she threw a handful of pictures up on the screen. There was artifacting marring them, but parts of the stranger were visible in each of them. Oracle magnified one that had a pretty good view of his face.

“Holy shit” Drake whispered.

Damian frowned. “What?”

“Dami, he looks like you. Just… older.” Grayson said softly.

“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped.

“Disregard the pale colouring for a second. The nose, the chin… he looks like you if you had a growth spurt,” Drake wrinkled his nose “and went through puberty.”

The commlines erupted into chaos. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Spoiler exclaimed “are you telling me there’s an older version of Robin running around Gotham?!”

“Copy?” Batgirl inquired.

“Don’t tell me Talia cooked up Demon Brat 2.0!”

“Given that he looks older it’s more likely version 0.1 if anything,” Drake snarked, “though there’s the possibility of artificially accelerated growth rates…”

Damian had had enough. “Tt. You are ignoring the obvious - if this is some kind of supernatural entity it likely copied aspects of my appearance in an attempt to engender feelings of familiarity.” he said haughtily, pushing down the uncomfortable churning in his stomach. There was no way Mother would replace him with a cheap copy. She couldn’t! “Besides, the creature has obvious powers and neither of my bloodlines has any trace of the meta gene.”

“That’s ignoring the ghostly elephant in the room.” Grayson chimed in, “Maybe it’s a dead ancestor?”

Drake gave their older brother an annoyed look “Even a time travelling descendant from the future is more likely than that. And delivering a ‘prophecy’ to boot?”

Oracle pulled up an aged up picture of Damian next to the stranger’s, highlighting several reference points. “On closer inspection, there’s a couple of discrepancies. The cheekbones for one - Robin definitely takes after his mother, while our mystery meta looks more like… well… Robin’s grandmother on the paternal side.” she finished hesitantly. “B?”

They turned to look at Batman, who had remained silent during the whole exchange. If they hadn’t known him so well they would have thought him unaffected, but the tightening around his mouth betrayed his agitation.

“There’s no use in pointless speculation until we have more data to work from,” he growled, “Oracle, look for any reports of a meta matching the target. Since our regular methods have failed to yield results, I will contact the JLD about running tests on the letter.” He turned to Drake, “Red Robin, see what you can find on recent League activities. If this is another scheme by Ra’s or Talia we need to know about it.”

“The last thing we need is more demon spawn running around!” Red Hood groaned over the comms.

Damian was furious. This was absurd! To even indulge the possibility that that creature was in any way related to him was making him feel like he had swallowed battery acid. He was the Demon’s Heir! He was not replaceable! There was only one thing to do.

“Robin? Stop!”

He ignored his Father’s shout. He stomped over to the lab table, snatched up the envelope and broke the seal.

Nothing happened.

He unfolded the paper and saw the same handwriting that had been on the outside.

Brother of blood, brother of soul

Never buried but already mourned

In lightning and ice the scorned child returned

To strike down the Demon’s Head

With all that Death earned

Damian’s hand shook. He reread the lines over and over again, refusing to comprehend. He could feel his Father standing behind him, scrutinising the letter as well.

“Son…”

Suddenly, the paper burst into green flames, going up into smoke that dissipated unnaturally quickly.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Then…

“Well that was needlessly melodramatic” Nightwing remarked.

Part 3

[hadersversion]

how to disappear! - lumberjack! logan x farmer’s daughter!reader: how they first meet

warnings: mentions of christianity, waiting till marriage, innocent reader, implied age gap (reader in 20s and logan being logan so 200?), good ole country attitudes

moodboard <3

🍓you’ve been living in a small town in nebraska your whole life

🍓the youngest daughter to the towns farmer, you were full of personality and many people in the town just liked to be around you

🍓you cared for the kids, helped the elderly, cooked & baker for everyone while wearing a big, beautiful smile on your face

🍓logan came to town in early spring, buying the fixer upper house down the dirt road from your home

🍓you two first met when your father asked you to run down some eggs that the chickens just hatched to the new neighbor as a welcome gift

🍓 you got on your bike, your white skirt flying in the wind as you drive down the hill

🍓 you parked your bike in front of his house and walked around the property, which seemed to be empty besides the pick up truck sitting in the drive way

🍓“hello? hello? i’m y/n, your new neighbor from up the street.”

🍓 you ventured around the property and admired the way it was already coming together. the once run down house now painted a fresh coat of red.

🍓 your walk around the house was cut short when you heard the sound of wood being split deeper into the woods surrounding the property

🍓 clutching the eggs, you followed the noise until you were looking at the ripped back of a man as he swung his axe high in the air

🍓 your body froze as you watched the man move swiftly with his axe, admiring his body and trying to tune out all the things you wanted him to do to you

🍓 he turned around and did a double take, his eyes raking up and down your body

🍓 the older man stood tall, his dark hair spiking up

🍓“um, hello?” he grunted

🍓 his white tank top clung to his sweaty body, showing off his hairy chest

🍓 dog tags hung around his neck as your brain thought about them hanging above your face when he’s on top of you

🍓 your mouth became dry as you stared at him

🍓 “h-hi.” you said shyly.

🍓“can i help ya with something, sweetheart.” he set the axe down and picked up a cigar from a log

🍓“y-yeah, i-um-i.” you were a stuttering mess looking at the gorgeous man in front of you. “sorry, i-uh…i live up the street and my daddy asked me to drop off these eggs to ya. our chickens hatched them this mornin’. think of it as a welcome to the town gift.”

🍓 he looks down at the eggs in your hand and smirks

🍓“appreciate it.” he walks up and grabs the eggs, cigar hanging from his mouth. “tell your pa i said thanks.”

🍓 your breathe hitches as you stare up at him, your thoughts becoming impure before you could even control them

🍓you never had thoughts like this before, you knew that you had to wait until marriage to even cross this bridge

🍓but this man made you want to throw those ideas out the window

🍓you watch as he stares down your chest, your shirt didn’t leave much to the imagination as it opened a bit at the top

🍓 instinctively, your fingers come up and play with cross necklace sitting comfortably against you

🍓you could swear this man let out a small groan at the tiny action

🍓“didn’t catch your name, sweetheart.”

🍓“y/n.”

🍓“y/n.” he repeats back and you swear, your heart melted in your chest. “pretty, just like you. i’m logan.”

🍓 i nod and smile. “thank you.”

🍓 the two of you stand in silence, appreciating the company of one another

🍓“i-uh…i should get going. but it was nice to meet you, logan.”

🍓“back at ya, kid.”

🍓 he watched as you walked towards your bike and hop on

🍓eyes raking over your body one last time as though he was never going to see you again, he wanted to savor you

🍓 you wave innocently and start your journey home

🍓 logan waves back and takes the cigar out of his mouth

🍓“maybe comin here wasn’t so bad.”

[honey-flustered]

Along For The Ride (Part 1 of 2)

MDNI +18 Only!!

Farmer!Older!Beefy!Eddie Munson/ Mean!Bougie!Fem!Reader

Summary: A drunken joyride leads you in the midst of Eddie Munson, who’s seeking repayment for the damages made to his property by you. Fed up with your constant misbehavior, your father makes a deal with Eddie in which you will do some manual labor around his farm in exchange. You’re not too pleased with this arrangement and your differences in personalities lead to a clashing of heads…and tongues?? (8.5k words)

A/N: I have not written in ages. It is really tough being a writer with the pressures I place on myself to be perfect, to gain more likes and followers, to write things as quickly as possible. I’m learning to fall in love with writing again. It’s a slow process but someday I’ll be able to share all the great things I’ve been working on for the past year. Anyway, here is my start to starting my journey again and thank you all for supporting me.

Older!Eddie photo edit by: @/eddiemunsons-missingnipple

CW: fluff and lots of angst, enemies to friends to lovers trope, SLOW BURN, age gap (Eddie 40s, Reader 20s), mean!affluent!reader, bad girl reader, light smut/eventual heavy smut, bratty!reader, ugly duckling turned swan trope, reader character development, mean friends, minor canon events from tv series (chrissy death, eddie accused of chrissy and other victims deaths), limited knowledge of farm life and work, drunk driving, consumption of marijuana and alcohol, committing of property crimes, return of reader’s ex, mentions of insecurities, descriptive and graphic language, lots of sexual tension, kissing, dry humping, eddie cums in his pants

You bellow out the lyrics to Taylor Swift’s “We Are Never Getting Back Together” along with your three friends, not a care in the world for who would be unfortunate enough to hear you in the chilly 3 am evening. The girls pass around a bottle of tequila when your best friend, Tana, —seated in the passenger seat— attempts to pour a shot into your mouth.

“Babe, no. I drank enough at the club. The guy that asked for my number was practically throwing them at me. I had to kill a plant by pouring my drinks onto the poor thing. Men ruin everything.” You pout.

“Amen to that, sis,” Tana says, snapping her fingers. “Had a guy tell me that he thinks I’m the one for him. Turns out, he’s married with a baby on the way.”

You all playfully point your index fingers to your tongues, faking gags before leading into a giggling fit.

“I had a guy ghost me because he didn’t like me sharing my selfies on social media. Said that ‘they should only be exclusive to him’.” Your friend, Essie, shares.

“I feel like we need to get back at men for the shit they put us through,” Brooke chimes in. “I’m in the mood to make a man fall to his knees, whimpering for mercy.”

“You kinky little minx!” You laugh. “Are you trying to make men pay or are you trying to get laid?”

“Can it be both?” Brooke says, biting her acrylic-donned thumb.

“I say…” Tana calls attention to herself, raising a hand. “We choose a random house on this street to wreak our vengeance. One of the homes has to belong to a man.”

“I’m in!” Essie beams.

“Me too.” Brooke says, high fiving Tana for her devious plan.

“I don’t know, guys,” You say, reluctant to rain on their parade. “We’re pretty drunk but I don’t think we’re drunk enough to want vandalism charges. Let’s just go to one of those rage rooms and let out all this pent up energy. We could scream out female rage lines from our fave movies and break shit.”

“That’s…okay but it’s not as epic as Tana’s idea,” Essie says, leaning forward to be in better earshot range. “Come on, y/n. It’s only for tonight. You know, we’re just having some harmless girl time fun. It’s not like we’ll be breaking and entering. We’re just gonna do some silly stuff then leave. Pleeaaase. I just broke up with my boyfriend. I need this.”

You take a quick glance at the girls who all send big, puppy eyes your way. You sigh then laugh. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

They cheer at your response, knowing that they’ve won. You raise a hand to cease their cheers and they quickly go dead silent. “Since, I’m the most sober one here. We’re doing this my way,” While staring at the road ahead, a smirk slowly spreads across your face. “I get to choose the place.”

——————

The four of you sneak onto the open field, tiptoeing through the tall grass. Based on the smell wafting in the air, you are certain there are barn animals nearby.

With a nasal tone in her voice from holding her nose, Tana says, “Ugh, how could anyone work around this icky smell?”

“Shhh,” You order, putting a finger to your lips. “If we need to be quiet if this is going to be a successful in and out mission. Do you remember the plan?”

“How could I forget? It’s the most basic prank ever.” Tana whisper-yells, holding up the two rolls of toilet paper in her hands.

“It’s still a huge pain to the homeowner,” You defend confidently before letting out a wicked giggle. “He will be so inconvenienced when he wakes up in the morning.”

Tana shakes her head lovingly at you before peering to her right and left. “Umm, y/n, where’s Essie and Brooke?”

Your eyes widen as you unintelligibly peer to your right and left as well despite knowing the space is empty. “Oh shit,” You facepalm. “How could we have let them out of our sight? Who knows what those morons are doing?”

“Hew we awe,” Essie carries a ‘baby talk’ inflection as she materializes from the dark bluish night with a medium-sized pig cradled in her arms. “Evwyone meet Wilbur.”

“I’m sorry but where the hell did you get that pig?!” You say, no longer able to keep your voice to a whisper.

“The barn, obviously.” Brooke replies.

“What happened to not breaking and entering?! I take my eyes off you two for a second and you’ve already broken a handful of crimes.” You scold.

“But we’re saving him, y/n. You don’t want this pig to become bacon, do you?” Essie says, holding up the pig near your face only for it to wiggle out of her grasp and take off running.

“We’ve gotta catch that stupid fucking pig!” You yell and the girls obey. The group comically chases the animal around, slipping and sliding through mud and crops. In the chaos, the pig makes contact with the toilet paper you’ve long abandoned, tossing it around with the help of the forceful winds to guide it all over the field.

You spot the pig approaching the door of a small blue cottage. You dive forward, fully immersed in the thick mud that soiled your white tank top and denim skirt and you cared little for this fact with your concerns focused on obtaining the pig in your arms. He squeals and whines against you as you plead for its compliance.

Suddenly the porch lights turn on, shining down on you like a spotlight. The door swings open and not long after you’re forced to look into the eyes of your prosecutor from the ground.

A rugged, older man with unruly, curls of brown hair cascading down his shoulders and the deepest brown eyes that are as large as buttons. The same eyes that were now staring down angrily at you.

“What the fuck?” He says through gritted teeth. It’s not until he sees the full extent of your wrath that he decides to emphasize his previous statement with a fury of a thousand suns. “What. The. Fuck!”

You swallow hard, releasing the pig as you collect yourself off the floor. The man feels no need to check whether his pet had entered the home safely, wanting his eyes to focus on you in case you tried running.

“I-I could explain. W-we were just—”

“We?” He abruptly interrupts, upholding the gruffness in his tone.

You were afraid that he’d say that. After all, those bitches were a little too quiet for your liking. After looking behind you to confirm their abandonment, you slowly face your prosecutor once again.

Swallowing the hard lump in your throat you begin, you try scrambling for an answer. This is already a very terrifying situation. This man looked terrifying himself. He’s robust in build, littered with tattoos, and had piercings. You don’t see men like him everyday or at all on your side of town. Men usually groomed themselves like ken dolls where you come from. But when you have come across men that look like him, the experience has always been a negative one—-only this time you were the one at fault.

“I’m sorry.” You shrug with an awkward smile then tack on a “Please don’t call the cops.”

He sighs deeply. “I’m not going to call the cops…”

“Oh, thank god.” You sigh in relief, a hand to your beating chest.

“You’re going to call your parents,” He finishes. “And you are going to tell them that we’re going to come up with a solution for this or I will be calling the police.”

“Oh, fuuuck.” You groan.

————-

“I’m so very sorry, sir. Truly,” Your father says after profusely apologizing for the 7th time since his arrival. “She’s been acting out a lot ever since she’d gone away to university. My wife and I don’t know this girl but she is not the y/n we raised.”

You roll your eyes at the comment, texting away at your friends who wanted to know the details of your capture. Meanwhile, you’re too busy cursing them out to care about how badly you’ll be punished for this.

“I’m just glad things didn’t get any worse or when someone could’ve seriously ended up getting hurt.” The farmer says, staring pointedly at you.

“Now I was thinking…though I could very well pay for the trouble and we could be out of your hair, I’m a man that likes to go above and beyond when it comes to taking responsibility. My daughter’s exceedingly aware of this fact about myself,” Your father scoots his seat up closer to the table, fingers together as if proposing a business plan. “It appears that you might need some temporary assistance in tending to your farm work. If you’re looking for an extra set of hands to help with some manual labor for the next two weeks, my daughter is happy to oblige.”

“Excuse me!” You say, attention fully invested in the conversation. “Tell me you're joking.”

“Nope. You are grounded. Meaning that though you are visiting for spring break, you are currently under my roof, my rules. I am still your parent after all. To clarify, there will be no going out with your friends. You are to come straight to

Mr. Munson’s farm every day after your time at your mother’s shop. You’ll help the gentleman around with whatever he asks of you.” Your father explains.

“And what if I don’t?” You ask, defiant.

“Then you’ll be cut off and you’ll have to earn money on your own.”

“Y-you m-mean a j-job?” You ask, horrified.

“Exactly.” Your father confirms.

You stare wide-eyed at farmer Munson who has a prominent smirk on his face. “I like the sound of that, sir. You’re a good man.”

You shriek in anger. “You’re the worst!”

You furiously stomp out of the home, hating your life and men once again.

————

Your father had no doubts that you’d be going to work on the farm once he’d threaten to take away your (his) money. When you arrive at the address, you’re immediately reminded how you're not on your side of town anymore. It’s officially Hickville.

Reluctantly knocking on the door, you hope that Eddie won’t answer the door, praying that he’s changed his mind and took the money instead. Unfortunately, he answers the door with a huge smile in contrast to your deadpan demeanor.

“Oh, come on, lighten up, sugar. I made some of my famous iced tea ahead. One taste and it’ll all seem worth it.”

“It’s not fair!” You rant, pushing passed him. “Why am I being the only one punished? This was all Brooke’s idea. And Essie was the one who stole the goddamn pig.”

“His name is Wilbur,” Eddie corrects. “And who are we talking about exactly?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You sigh. “Bad things always happen to good people.”

“I’ll say.” Eddie says, staring you down.

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“You really think you’re the victim in all of this?”

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t we check out the lovely view of the TP’d trees blowing in the wind?” He asks sarcastically, gesturing to his window.

“It’s just a little toilet paper. Never had a little prank done on you.”

“Wow,” He feigns a smile, shaking his head at you. “Your audacity to diminish all the negative things you’ve done to me into the spirit of good fun is astounding.”

“My therapist did always say I have a knack for looking at things on the bright side.” You retort.

“Is that so?” He asks mockingly. “Well then, you’re gonna love this special job I have for you.”

—————

Which leads you to the situation you’re in now. You’re staring into the eyes of a cow whose large brown eyes kind of reminded you of farmer Munson except they actually held kindness in them and not pure disdain.

“There’s no way I’m milking this thing. I have no idea how to do that,” You say, prompting Eddie to raise a suggestive eyebrow at you. “You know what I mean, pervert.”

Suddenly, an idea clicked in your head. Maybe you could use this ‘pervert’ thing to your advantage. He’s obviously single or he wouldn’t be this much of a crab. You can easily seduce him and get out of doing anything!

“Mr. Munson,” You say with a purr in your voice as you press yourself up against him. “I’m actually really good at milking other things after all. You’ve got me pegged at that. Maybe…I can show you just how skillful my mouth and hands can be for you.”

He laughs. He fucking chuckles in your face. How fucking dare he?! “That was rich. Seriously, that performance was just…moving. You can try to sway me with sex all ya want, hun. Trust me there are women and men who’ve tried,” He slightly narrows the gap between your faces, staring you down. “I don’t buckle under that kinda pressure, sugar. It’ll take a lot more than salacious words to make my dick jump. Now why don’t we go back to the task at hand, shall we?”

You’re fuming. This asshole really thinks he can get away with making you out to be a fool. Well, two could play that game. You’re going to make his existence for the next two weeks feel like a total nightmare.

He seats you on a small stool beside the cow before instructing you on how to milk her. You halfheartedly reach for an udder, shrieking at the feel of it between your fingers.

“This is so gross!” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m going to disassociate and imagine that I’m in a niche boutique in Manhattan.”

“Ah, spending daddy’s money even in your dreams. How thoughtful.” He mutters.

“You have no right to judge me just because you think I’m privileged.” You snap.

“I don’t ‘think’ you’re privileged. You are privileged. See the difference?”

You tug on an udder, purposefully targeting him as the milk drenches him. His face puckers his face before staring daggers at you.

“Oops.” You say in a sickeningly sweet tone.

——————

You begrudgingly enter your house key into the doorknob, body aching from the day's work. The moment you enter, your father’s happy-go-lucky spirit engulfs you and it takes everything in you not to explode.

“Hey, honey, how was your first day?”

“Question, father,” You begin, calling him the formal term instead of “papa” or “dad”. “Do you love me?”

“Now what kind of silly question is that?” He reverts back with his own question, befuddled.

“I’m just curious because I don’t think a father who truly loves their daughter would ever put her through the kind of hell I just went through today.” You respond.

“You milked a cow,” Your teenager brother, Aspen, enters the dining room before beginning a dramatic act. “Someone save the poor girl! She’s gaining new life experiences! You are such primadonna.”

“Shut up, ya little twerp.” You say, pulling his hoodie over his face.

“Your brother’s right, dear,” Your father says. “You are being really dramatic. I don’t get it. You never used to be this way. You loved reading books and conducting personal science experiments and geeking out over your favorite movies—”

“That just isn’t me anymore, dad. The sooner you accept that, the better it is for us all.” You grumble.

He decides to drop the topic in favor of keeping the peace for the dinner your mom prepared for the family to enjoy as a unit. But your mind couldn’t help but to wander back to those times where you were seen as a nerd and bullied for being different and having different interests. University was a different story though. There, you were able to reinvent yourself into the hot bad bitch you know today.

But why is it that your father’s words resonated so much with you? Had it been because it wasn’t the makeover or the new friends and partners you’d make along the way…it was the fact that he knew that you, yourself, couldn’t believe your own act. He knows that you're lying to yourself about liking the person you’ve become. No way could ever admit such a thing to him. And it’s not like you’d feel this way forever. Once you’re done with this hell labor with Eddie “The Devil” Munson, you can go back to your popular life.

————

The routine continued including your constant pushback. It went: shadowing your mother for the day with her bridal clients, heading over to the Munson farm soon after, non stop bickering between the two of you for 2 hours, then heading back home to soak your aching body and curse out the world.

Today is no different with the task of you grooming the stupid pig that got you into this mess in the first place.

“Wilbur. His name’s—”

“I know!” You shout at him, gathering the metal pail and wooden brush from the table. You grumpily made your way to the backyard of the home in search of the shed supposedly carrying the soap to clean the pig. When you notice Wilbur rushes out of a trailer home stationed in the backyard. “Hey, get back here!”

The pig is long gone and you don't care to chase after it once your interest is piqued by the mystery home in the backyard. Searching around to make sure there were no signs of Mr. Munson, you enter the place cautiously.

It’s as if the trailer had been stuck in the 1980s. Everything is vintage and old looking but also well kept. You see photos of the younger Eddie Munson scattered around the walls of the home and—-though you hate to admit it—he was just as handsome as he is now. In some of the photos including one pinned to the fridge by a magnet, you can see an older man. Maybe his father.

Your eye catches an old poetry assignment also pinned to the fridge with a large ‘C+’ above it. A little note at the top explaining his grade being contributed to some misspellings and some inappropriate language despite the good work.

You raise the paper to your eyes and read:

If I Were A Hobbit

If I were a hobbit, I’d be so free

I’d frolic in the grass and smoke some trees

With furry feet and a merry heart

From adventure’s call, I’d never depart

With Bilbo’s tales, I’d while away time.

In the beautiful land of Middle Earth’s rhyme

I’d wander the fields beneath the sun

I’d travel it world cause it’s all in good fun

If I were a hobbit, maybe I wouldn’t get laid

But, hey, it’s goddamn worth the price I paid

You giggle, amused at how fun Mr. Munson had been long ago. You wonder what could’ve happened. Immersed in the poem, you were unaware of his arrival until he whispered haughtily into your ear.

“We’re continuing the trend of breaking and entering, I see.”

You jolt away, facing him. “I-I’m sorry. But you said that I had to look for a shed. Should be more specific.”

“This looks like a shed to you, sugar?”

“Trailer…shed…it’s no different.”

He chuckles dryly. “You are a piece of work.”

“Look who’s talking? You know, you seemed a lot more fun when you were a teenager.” You comment, holding up the poem.

“Give me that,” He yanks from your hands, placing it back on the fridge. “Ain’t anyone ever tell you it’s wrong to go snooping around people’s things. Wait, who am I kidding? I met your father. Even if he were to have taught you these things, you’d probably go against him.”

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You hiss.

“Right back atcha, sweetheart.” He retorts.

“Then, I hope you don’t mind if I continue to do so.” You say, pushing past him to go into the hallway.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks, hot on your trail.

You enter a bedroom and it’s another blast from the past. The typical kind of teenage boy bedroom. It’s no shock to you that he's a metalhead. You begin to rummage through his collection.

“You little brat,” He huffs. “I’m too old to be dealing with this shit!”

“Live a little,” You say, popping in a blues cassette into the radio. “Dance with me.”

He stands in the middle of the room, arms crossed as you begin to dance in circles around him. Your boot kicks up a newspaper article crumpled up on the ground and you go to retrieve it, ignoring Eddie’s protests.

It is an article about 15 years ago that expresses Eddie Munson’s exoneration in the death of Chrissy Cunningham and him receiving only a $50,000 settlement. It also goes into detail that his only known immediate family and caretaker, Wanye Munson, had died just a month before his release.

“Oh my god, Mr. Munson. I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t…” You trail off, knowing what to say or even where to begin.

“It’s all in the past now,��� He sighs. “Besides, I’m fine now. I still have my friends. They are like family. They’ve got their own lives but when they can they check on me. That’s more than enough.”

Without thinking, your arms curl around his body and for the first time you get to feel his body against yours and it’s addicting. He tenses for a moment, unsure whether this is okay but eventually he melts into your embrace.

His beefy arms cradle you, a large hand resting atop your head. Your heartbeats fall in sync with one another’s and you allow yourself the brief moment to nuzzle into his chest, the chest hairs peeking above his tank top tickles the tip of your nose.

You dare to look him in the eyes, seeing them already looking down at you. They were wet with unshed tears, pleading with you for something. It’s the first time you’ve seen that look on his face and like a magnet you're drawn to it. You’re suddenly moving on your own accord, tiptoeing to brush your nose against his. He lowers his face to your level. Your lips are only a mere centimeters from his full ones when the sound of his phone ringing takes you both out of the moment.

He’s quick to pull away as if freed from an intense spell. Excusing himself, he leaves the room and heads outside. You’re left standing in the room alone, the soft, rhythmic melody of blues playing in the background.

Willing yourself to cool down, you decide to go on with your original task and find Wilbur while hoping it’ll shake off the electric feeling he left on your skin.

————————-

Bathing the pig proved to be quite the distraction because this little shit is making you use all your brain power to keep it still. Having stripped into just your bikini and rainboots, you held the pig for dear life as you washed and scrubbed at him and practically yourself.

You notice Eddie from the corner of your eye, stifling laughter as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“By the way, I’ve already washed off all the barn animals, tended to my crops, and was able to make myself a sandwich in the meantime. You, however, you’re still working on Wilbur. Or should I say, he’s working you.”

“Hardee har har,” You say, unamused. “Will you just help me with this pig?”

“Alright, alright,” He says, heading over to you. The pig immediately jumps from his grasp and into your arms. “It’s all in the technique.”

“Easy for you to say. He already knows you.” You grumble.

“Now what you’re gonna want to do is come up behind him. He's a big fella so in order to hold him down you’ll need to straddle him like this and place your hands down firmly on his back. That way he’ll know to stay put,” Eddie says getting into position, his boots digging in the dirt for some leverage. “He’ll tussle with ya a little but it’s only because he’s not used to being handled by other humans. He’s still a little frantic with me even after all these years. I saved him from the slaughterhouse so it comes with the territory.”

“You mean you weren’t going to turn him into bacon?”

“No, sugar, Wilbur’s family. Now get up on here with me. Don’t put too much of your weight on him. Only just enough to hold him down.” He instructs.

You follow suit, straddling the pig and placing your hands over Eddie’s before looking back over your shoulder at him. “Like this?”

“Just like that, sugar. You’re a natural. See? Now I’m just gonna go ahead and get up and you’ll take the—”

“What? No, don’t leave me! He’ll just shake me off again.” You protest.

Sure enough, the pig began to shake the both of you off its back, side to side until you both fell back into the soil. You fall right into Eddie’s lap and he instinctively grips your hips hard, causing you to let out a yelp and scramble out of his grasp.

You sat on your knees, looking at him with wide eyes and he returned with the same expression. The blush on his face intensifies and you follow the way his hands rush to pull the cowboy hat from his head to hold against his lap.

He quickly looks away from you, clearing his throat.

“You’ve got—erm, your bikini bra…” You’ve never seen him so flustered. So speechless. You eish you could relish in it but when you realize exactly what he’s insinuating, you feel your cheeks begin to heat up as you wish the world will swallow you whole.

Your tit is hanging out for the world to see. A fucking nipple slip! Why did God cease at nothing to make you the butt of every joke?

You briskly adjust your bra, shaking in your boots. The itching desire to run heavy on your mind.

“I-I s-should go,” Your shaky legs somehow allow you to stand as you peer down at him. “Have a good evening, Mr. Munson.”

You stiffly power walk your way to the small cottage home to gather your discarded clothes on the porch. Eddie’s large hand rests on your shoulder.

“Wait! I can’t send you off like this. You’ll track mud in your car.”

“It’s not like I haven’t done that before.” You scoff.

“Why don’t you shower here and I’ll offer you some fresh clothes? I’ll be making my stir fry in case you're hungry.”

“You being nice to me all of a sudden, Mr. Munson?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t help but think there’s some kind of hidden agenda.”

He smiles a genuine 100-watt smile. “No, sugar. I’m just extending some needed hospitality is all.”

—————

You pull on the long sleeved t-shirt Eddie offered you, studying its logo. A horned demon, swords, dice and so on.

“It’s my old high school club t-shirt.” He says, coming to sit beside you on the couch.

“You were in a Dungeons and Dragons club?”

“You know D’N’D?”

“Know it?! I loved that game.” You say, excitedly.

“I didn’t think kids in your generation still played that game.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah,” You nod. “I was a dungeon master. My campaigns were fire. Anyone who’d joined my games would always go around telling their friends to come see me in action.”

“No way! I was a dungeon master, too! I took it a little too seriously at times but it was like my second passion,” He looks you up and down. “I would have never thought someone like you would be into that kinda stuff.”

“I’ll ignore your sly comment to clarify that I wasn’t always like this back in high school.”

“What do you mean?” He asks.

“Well, you heard my dad. I used to be a goody two-shoes. A nerd. And I even dressed the part, too. The old me would’ve totally geeked at your Hobbit poem. I’m different now though.”

“What’s so wrong about being a nerd?” He inquires, scooting closer to you.

“I used to get bullied everyday. Boys would ignore me. Even the geeks would only ever see me as a friend. When I got to university, that all changed. Everyone wanted me.”

“I think if I’d known you then, we’d probably be good friends.”

“Yeah right. I seemed like the bad boy type who falls for the cheerleader. You wouldn’t have looked twice in my direction.”

“No,” Eddie says firmly, staring you intensely in the eyes. “I would see you.”

He repeats for emphasis. “I see you.”

You swallow the hard lump in your throat, choking back tears. You’ve never felt so vulnerable. It’s strange to be so open with a man who 5 days ago you would have choked with your bare hands.

“Besides,” He says, breaking the silence. “I think it’s you who would have ignored me. I’m not the bad boy you think I am. Sure, I was a bit of a troublemaker here and there. But I was a huge geek, too. Hadn’t even lost my virginity until age 36. A year after my release. No girl wanted to fuck me back in high school. I was ‘the freak’. To some people today, I still am one regardless if I’m innocent.”

“I would’ve believed you’re innocent. I’d have been by your side, too. Us, geeks, have to stick together, yeah?”

He huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

There’s that magnetic pull again. The attraction that makes you want to be as close to him as possible. You resist not wanting to make that move again but he takes the initiative, leaning in further only this time you're interrupted once again with the sound of your phone ringing. You throw a silent fit in your head. Eddie’s just as frustrated, expelling a long duration of air from his nose.

“Hello.” You say, answering the phone.

“Hey, baby,” A familiar voice says on the line. “It’s been months. I still think about our time in Venice and this spring fever is only making it harder to ignore.”

Now the memories come flooding in. It’s an ex-fling you met while studying abroad in Italy during your freshman year of university. The man who’d taken your virginity and showed you the ropes to popularity. The moment you left Italy you expected him to call you back but he immediately ghosted you. From then on, you became the maneater you are today.

“What do you want?”

You, of course. I hear you are back in your hometown. Luckily for you, I am doing some research here and I was wondering—-“

“Luckily for me? Are you on drugs, Stefan? I don’t care if you want me. You could forget my number and then you’ll forget me. Have a goodnight.” You quickly hang up the call, ignoring his pleas.

“Is everything alright?” Eddie asks, noticing the way you’re hyperventilating.

“I am now,” You sigh. “That was my ex. He was also my first. He treated me like shit made me feel stupid and like I needed him as if he created me. And back then, I felt like I did need him. Then he ghosted me. It felt good to give him a piece of my mind although I wish I could have said more.”

“I think you said enough. I’m certain you hit him where it hurts.” He laughs.

“I should probably go.” You say, standing up from the couch to grab your coat.

“What happened to staying for dinner?” He asks.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Munson”

“Eddie. You can call me Eddie.”

“Eddie,” You say, testing his name on your tongue. You’re not exactly sure if you’re ready to be this informal with him despite your almost kisses and the boob slip incident. “I’m sorry but his call has left me shaken. I think I need to be in the company of my girls.”

“You mean, the girls who got you into trouble and left you behind? The ones your parents warned you to stay away from?”

“Come on, dude, I need this. It’s not like you can give me great advice about guys.”

“I could. Considering I am one.”

“Well, I don’t think we’re close enough for that kind of session.”

“We just had this whole heart to heart. I thought we were seeing some improvement in our friendship.” Eddie says.

“We’re friends?”

“Us, geeks, stick together?”

“That’s just an oath. Doesn’t exactly confirm a friendship between us.”

He exhales deeply, trying to contain his anger. “Well, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I tell your father about your little hangout.”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Your eyes narrow at him.

“That would suggest that I’d be getting anything of value out of this which I wouldn’t be. Therefore, no this isn’t blackmail but it is definitely a threat. I don’t care if we’re friends. I don’t care to be your friend, sugar. But as the more responsible adult between us, I think it’s within our best interest that you don’t hang out with the people who cause you to commit crimes. So, I think I’ll be taking you home, hmm?”

“And what about my car?”

“I’ll take good care of it for tonight. I’ll pick you up tomorrow for your next job.” He smiles smugly.

If looks could kill, he’d be 7 feet under and you’d already be in hell.

————

Eddie pulls up to the front of your house. The whole ride there had been silent. You angrily gather your things, hurriedly trying to exit his van.

“Have a goodnight, sugar!” He shouts as you slam the door in his face.

Once you’re inside, you do the routine process of angrily ranting out your annoyance with farmer Munson while stomping angrily up the stairs. Your family used to this by now simply goes about business as usual.

You dial up Tana and after a couple rings she answers. “Hey, bitch! I was just about to text you the news. Did you hear who’s in town?”

“Yeah, Stefan, I know. How’d you know?”

“He's been calling me nonstop asking for you. Says he wants to talk to you.”

“I already did. Told him to fuck off,” You say. “And I thought I’d feel a lot better about it but I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I didn’t get to stomp on his weirdly-shaped small dick.”

“Oh, yeeahh. I remember the dick pic he sent you. It is weird, isn’t it? Like an undeveloped banana. Anywho…you wanna get high at my place and watch America’s Next Top Model reruns. I’ve got Jell-O shots.” She singssongs the last statement.

“I can’t remember. I’m on lockdown,” You sigh. “If I get into any more trouble or I might as well hand over a contract of my soul to the devil.”

“Bitch, you are a grown woman. These are the best years of our lives where we’re supposed to live it to the fullest. Sneak out! I’m coming over to pick you up.”

“Tana, n—” But she’s already hung up the call. Sometimes, you really hate this girl. With no choice, you’re forced to make a plan.

Firstly, you create a human-shaped pile in your bed, disguising it with your comforter. Next, you’ll be climbing out of your window and quietly land on your lawn. Finally, you enter your friend’s car and you’ll be homefree.

Although, the climb is a lot more daunting than you anticipated. It seemed like a lot of a higher jump from where you are standing. Tana’s car pulls in and she rushes out to jump up and wave, whisper-yelling to encourage you to do it.

“Tana, this is fucking crazy. You always make me do crazy shit.” You yell down at her.

“But it’s all for the sake of fun experiences.” She retorts. “Come on and jump. Be the bad bitch, you are. Think for a second. WWBD: What would Beyonce do?”

“She'd probably fire you as a friend.” You growl.

“Fair enough.”

“Okay, I’m ready to jump. Just be ready to catch me.”

“What?” Before Tana could register what you meant, you jumped, hurtling into her arms and straight to the ground.

“Huh, that wasn’t so bad.” You smile.

“Yeah, because I’m the one breaking your fall.” Tana groans.

“Payback’s a bitch, love.”

—————

“So, is the farmer plowing your garden?” Tana asks, while applying mascara to your eyelashes.

“Tana!”

“What? That’s got to be the only reason you’re officially over Stefan.” She says.

“I was already over Stefan. Eddie’s just my headache.”

“You’re on first name bases with him. Oh, you are definitely fucking him.”

“I’m not!” You insist.

“And did you say Eddie? That’s the infamous Eddie Munson. How could I have not seen the connection? He’s so hot. Is that okay to say about a murderer?”

“He’s not a murderer.” You quickly defend him causing Tana to raise her hands in surrender.

“Yikes, I’m sorry I didn't mean to offend your friend.”

“He’s not my…well, he is. But…he’s not a murderer. He never killed her. I did some digging on the internet and this town used to be really strange back then. Not how it is now. I don’t know but the circumstances in all the deaths that happened back in ‘86 are all too weird. No human could do the things that I’ve seen done to those corpses.”

“Bummer. Guess we’ll never know who did it. I hear people who know of this case still harass him to this day. It’s no wonder he practically lives off the grid.” Tana sighs. A knock at her front door leads her away and you’re alone to ponder your thoughts.

An overwhelming need to comfort Eddie hits you as you thought back to the moment he’d asked you to stay for dinner. You assumed it was all a ploy to get into your pants but now you realize that he’d genuinely enjoyed the little company he’d gotten.

You hear Tana’s footsteps and a set of another coming up the stairs and before you could get a chance to tell her that you’ll be leaving, she enters the room with your ex.

“What the hell is this?” You sneer.

“I just thought maybe you should hear him out.” Tana says with an anxious smile.

“I’m out of here.” You say, grabbing your jacket from her bed.

“Where are you going? Your car’s not here.” Tana rushes down the stairs after you.

“I’ll walk!” You hiss over your shoulder, pulling the door open where you’re unfortunately met with the presence of your father, brother, and the devil himself.

“Mr. Munson? Dad? What the hell are you all doing here?”

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Your father says.

Stefan steps out from behind you, handing you a piece of paper. “I can see that it is a bad time, mi cara. Please, call me when you can. It’s a new number since you’ve blocked my old one.”

With that, he acknowledges the men before him with a nod and leaves. It’s not lost on you that Eddie stares him down with a dirty look on his face before his eyes land back on you.

“If I could just explain...” You begin.

“No, y/n, I’m sick of your excuses. You sneak off at night to god knows where. You reek of pot and booze. Is this the type of example you want to set for your younger brother? He’ll be graduating next year. Should anticipate that his time in university will consist of lollygagging around instead of focusing on his career?”

You look over to your brother who, instead of carrying a smirk, he had a look of genuine concern for you.

“I was just having fun.”

“Is that all you can think about? When did fun require drugs and alcohol and committing crimes?! Fun for you used to be attending cosplaying conventions, not vandalizing properties and drunk driving.”

“Well, I’m not that anymore so you could fucking stop clinging to the past.” You yell.

Your father is taken aback and you could faintly see the waterline rising in his eyes. “Get in the car. Now!”

You shoot Eddie an angry look. “Us, geeks, stick together? Forget anything I ever said about believing in you.”

Your heart twinges at the shattered look on his face at your statement. No longer wanting to see the extent of your blow, you brush past him and follow your father’s command.

“As for you, young lady,” your father points to Tana. “I will be in touch with your parents regarding your misconduct.”

Tana’s mouth drops in complete shock at this revelation and for a moment you actually are proud of your dad.

————-

You plop yourself onto your bed, crying your eyes out. Not even really crying for yourself but for Eddie. How could you have been so cruel to him? All for the reason that he cares enough about you to make sure you aren’t getting into trouble. There’s no way he’d ever forgive you for the way you spoke to him.

A knock on your door calls to your attention. You reluctantly answer, knowing you’ll be getting yet another punishment. You’re surprised to find your brother, Aspen, at the door.

“What do you want, twerp?” You say.

“You should really apologize to dad. You made him cry. I’ve never seen him like that.” He says.

“I know. It’s just that I hate when people remind me that I was…a loser. I didn’t mean to be so awful to him, though.”

“You were never a loser. In fact, I used to think you were pretty cool. I wanted to be comfortable in my weirdness as you were. I’m happy that you’re finding yourself and all. But you don’t have to change who you are to appease anyone. Not even dad. It’s your life, sis. If you like drinking and partying, that’s okay. If you like reading nerdy books and cosplaying, that’s okay, too. As long as it’s something you want to do and not something you do to make people like you. So stop acting like you’re some psycho fembot that wants to spend the rest of her life in and out of jail.”

“Wow, Aspen, I’m impressed. I did not know you could speak incoherent sentences.” You tease, pulling him into a hug.

“Fuck off.” He laughs, struggling to free from your tight embrace.

————

The next day, after some time to think of your apologies. You began with your father. He admitted to you that he was scared of the thought of you growing up and not needing him and let’s just say that the two of you ended up bawling in each other’s arms and confessing your love and appreciation for one another by the end of it. Your busy event planner mother stumbled into the scene both heartwarmed and confused.

The next one is going to be a tough one for you. But you felt prepared with a handy long written note in your hand in case you needed to find the right words.

However, the moment you arrived on his farm and were met with the look of indifference on his face, you began to break down sobbing. Hard. The thought letter long abandoned to the ground.

His demeanor immediately softens, placing a hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

“I-I’m s-so sorry….you…friend…mean…,” You gasp an unintelligible apology through your tears. “Bitchy…geeks…believe you…stupid pig Wilbur…never would have met a great man like youuuu.”

He gives you a small smile, pulling you into his embrace. “I know, I know.”

“Understand?” You ask.

“Yes, sugar. I understand what you said. Crystal clear.”

“Accept?”

“Yes, I accept your apology.” Eddie laughs.

“You don’t hate me?”

“I never hated you. Even when you’re being an annoying brat. ” He says.

“Good,” You sniffle, pulling away from him to wipe your tears and compose yourself. “I’m happy we’re friends again.”

“Friends? Who said anything about friends?” He quips before patting your shoulder. “Yeah, we’re friends again.”

“Now you could get to work and then later you can make me that stir fry that I've been dying to try.” You beam, skipping into his home.

“Only if you’re a good girl.” He challenges.

For the day, the two of you would groom the horses together. Of course, you were still quite jumpy and the bougie princess he knows you to be but it was nothing he didn’t find amusing about it anyway.

“You should seriously take a look at my note though. I really thought out all the things I had to say for you. My weeping apology was only the tip of the iceberg.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think anything in that note will top that moment but I’ll take your word for it.”

“Read it when you’re alone though. I don’t want to see your face when you read it.”

“Why?”

“Because I know you’ll be all smug about.” You say, rolling your eyes.

“And you say you hardly know me,” He chuckles then switches to a serious, gruff tone. “So…Stefan…he’s a looker. Thinking about going back on your word to end things with him.”

You laugh. “I’m playing it by ear. He says he’s changed but that’s every jerks’ favorite line.”

“Just let him know that if he ever hurts you, I’ll kick his ass.” He threatens.

You step into Eddie’s space, his face flushes at the close proximity. Your hand raises up to cradle his heated cheek. “You couldn’t hurt a fly, Edward Allan Munson.”

Lost in your eyes, he fails to notice you tug the joint nuzzled behind his ears. Until you raise it up to his face with a knowing smile. “You smoke weed?”

“Baby, I used to be a dealer. In fact, I still grow my own supply.”

“No way.”

“Oh yeah. Maybe I was the freak but those jocks and cheerleaders were begging for a piece of my supply.”

“You wouldn’t mind if we smoke this one together.” You suggest.

“After your father chewed you out for it last night?”

“He knows I do it. And I learned this morning, after our heart-to-heart, that he was once a pothead, too. And now that I know that you are also a pothead, not only does this confirm my personal theory that most people smoke weed but also this makes our friendship so much more interesting.”

“You’re starting to throw that whole ‘friendship’ word around a lot more enthusiastically now.”

“My friend’s a dealer. I’m going to take full advantage of that.” You loop your arm around his guiding him to an empty stable so you can both fall against the hay.

He picks the hay from his hair, laughing. “I don’t even have a lighter and the fumes are not safe for the animals.”

“Babe,” You say almost insulted. “I always carry a lighter. You never know when you’ll find yourself in an impromptu smoke session or possibly get lost in the middle of the woods. Besides, we released the animals into the field for their little recess. We’re the only animals left here. Just you and me.”

“Alright, fine I guess we’re doing this. Don’t tell your dad about this, though. This will just be a one time thing.”

“Mhm, yeah sure, bud,” You say nonchalantly, busying yourself with lighting the joint. You hand over the joint to him and he protests, wanting you to take the first hit. You oblige. “It’s your joint. Don’t you know the rules? The one who bringeth, smoke..eth.”

“You wanted it badly so I let you take it first.”

“I didn’t want it ‘badly’. I’m not a fucking addict,” You laugh, bellowing out a puff of smoke. “I just thought it’d be a nice bonding moment. Wanna see how you get when you’re high.”

“It’s nothing special. I’m the same as I am now.” He shrugs.

“You mean, ‘a stick in the mud’?”

He bumps you with his shoulder causing you to lay back against the hay.

“You jerk, I just pick all that out of my hair.”

“Serves you right. Now hand me the joint. You’re hogging it,” He tries to reach for it but you raise it above your head. “You’re such a tease.

He attempts to reach for it again, falling on top of you. His full weight on your body is so damn delicious it takes everything in you not to moan. It doesn’t help that the weed has heightened your senses making you feel EVERYTHING. The way his hot breath feels tickling your neck along with the way his curls on his head gently caress your skin as he reaches for the joint. He seems oblivious to the state he leaves you in even after he’s gotten it until he lets out a puff of smoke in the air then looks back down at you once again. It’s evident he can see the darkened lust in your eyes because of the way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He suddenly feels so thirsty and it isn’t because of the weed.

Afraid a moment like this will be interrupted once again, you lunge forward attacking his lips. He’s caught fully by surprise, a strangled moan swallowed up in your frenzied fit of passion. You’re the one controlling the kiss, forcing him to roll on his back so you can grind down on the sizable erection in his jeans. The friction from the fabric of your lace underwear and the rough denim of his jeans are an undefeated combination against your puffy clit, sending flood after flood of your wetness to pool between your legs.

The kisses are sloppy. Your hands are everywhere; in his hair, yanking his shirt for dear life. His hands cup your face before entwining in your hair then they’re around your neck, unable to keep them still because he’d like to feel every part of you just as you wish to do to him. Every so often growls would escape your lips as you grind harder and harder against him.

“Fuck, Eddie, you feel so fucking good.” You whisper desperately into his ear.

“So do you, sugar. Ain’t even inside you yet and I’m already about to blow.” He groans, sweaty forehead pressed against your own.

“Can I fuck you, Mr. Munson?” You plead.

And the whine Eddie lets out confirms that it won’t be happening anytime soon. You look between your bodies, seeing the dark, wet patch on his jeans then back up at him.

He’s obviously embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s been a while.”

“That’s okay. Um, this was…this was really spontaneous.” You don’t immediately get off, wanting more and hoping he’d give you more so that he can make you cum, too.

Instead he grabs you by waist, lifting you off him in a hurry. “I’m sorry. I need to—-this was a mistake.”

And once again, he leaves you to your thoughts. All you could do is stare as he grew smaller and smaller in the distance, while you began to feel smaller and smaller on the inside.

[kawareo]

Thank you lovely people for giving me a chance to ramble more about something (this is genuine, i mean no shade)

I find it really cool how every character has a parallel with Durge! In general every single romance pairing has reasons for why i think "yeah i could see them being good together", but I love those for Durge especially since I think about Durges way too much

Gale. Prodigy, Chosen of a God(ess) with a relationship that went far past god/Chosen, with him and Mystra being 'lovers' and Durge and Bhaal being 'family'. They were also both groomed to a degree to fulfill a role and have since fallen from grace of their gods.

Lae'zel. Raised in what is essentially a cult, having her entire world fall apart when she learns the truth about Vlaakith and Orpheus (while Durge's world falls apart when they learn about who they are in act 3). Cult has harsh and merciless punishments for those that disappoint, with death and beatings for githyanki and... Well. You know what, for Durge (looking at you, deleted bad ending).

Shadowheart. Having an equivalent of an electric collar on you that her God(ess) can punish her with (for Durge, that punishment isnt so immediate but Bhaal can literally stop their heart if he wants to). Amnesia. Having to choose between leading your cult or leaving everything you thought you knew and being an outcast. Depending on what you do with Shart, they also both kill their parents.

Karlach. Having your body changed without your consent, in drastic ways that you have no control over; the engine for Karlach, lobotomy + Slayer form for Durge (slayer in a more minor way but i will say that even in evil route you dont get a say whether or not you transform the first time). They both hurt people that get close to then without meaning to. They both have someone more powerful who sees them as property. Also, ties to Gortash.

Wyll. Daddy issues! And being rejected and outcast by your Father, wanting to prove yourself that you're still worthy. They were also both given shitty fucking names by their dads. They both at some point chose between power at the cost of freedom and freedom at the cost of literally everything; Wyll when he made a deal with Mizora, Durge at multiple points through the game when it comes to Bhaal. They both struggle with being tied to an evil, manipulative being that wants them isolated and weak and alone. Similar with Karlach, unwilling body modification, but specifically one that turns you into a 'monster'.

Astarion. 'Father'. 'Siblings' that you are in constant and brutal competition with, for momentary approval of your Creator who will never have enough of anything short but the world. Creator who's end goal very much includes you dying for him. Having no bodily autonomy as your Creator can literally violate your mind whenever. Sexual abuse. Struggling with bloodthirst! Your existence itself is violent, you can't live without hurting someone! (Bloodthirst for Ass, Urges for Durge)

Halsin. (Potential) guilt for something you have done, being pushed in a leadership position (Halsin at the grove, Durge with companions) that you may or may not be unsuited for. Being so, so alone, without anyone to care for your feelings. They both also have sides of them that they sometimes can't control, with the Bear and Urges, or more literally, the Slayer.

Minthara. A proud and efficent warrior that got one upped by a person they underestimated. Ties to Orin. Living as someone with the highest social status in a brutal, cruel society. Fanatic worship of an objectively evil god(ess) and then the betrayal that follows, waking up from quite literal brainwashing, seeing how your God(ess) turns against you.

And I could go on! Theyre all so good and interesting and depending on what path you decide to take, there is always something that Durge can relate to on with any companion! I tried to avoid repeating points or talking about my Durge specifically by just talking about what is set in canon for them, and there is still! So! Much!

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

AN: Next update will post Monday the 23rd , same time and same place! Going to start working on updating my game etc. <3

Transcript under the cut

Siobhan: There you are! Our guest of honor tucked away in the corner. You’re not hiding, are you?

Nancy: I never really liked crowds.

Siobhan: That won’t do, Nancy. Come. Lets chat.

Siobhan: You know, the way you handled Becca the other night is admirable. I wouldn’t have done anything less if it were my man she was pawing after.

Nancy: Listen, I’m not a violent person. I shouldn’t have hit her.

Siobhan: It hardly matters. It’s about respect.

Siobhan: You have the means to be the most powerful woman in the world. Your family runs a multi million dollar company. Your name is on every recognizable building across the globe. Girls like Becca will dream of the day they can write you a check so she can raise her brood of rowdy children in one of your flawlessly designed properties.

Siobhan: You’re a star, Nancy. It’s time you show everyone what it means to be a Landgraab. You can start by becoming a Theta.

Siobhan: By the way, your mother just arrived!

Nancy: Hello Mother.

Queenie: Nancy.

Nancy: Father couldn’t make it?

Queenie: No, I’m afraid he’s tied up in a prior engagement. Besides, I try not to bore him with my personal affairs. [murmurs] How provocative, these pieces.

Queenie: So you’ve made friends with the daughter of an adulterer. Is that what you thought would impress me? Well, at least she’s proactive. Your lack of involvement in any clubs or organizations shows just how lazy you are. It’s almost as if we’ve sent you to university to piss away our money yet again. When will you prove to me that you’re worth half the trouble you put your father and me through? And for the love of God, stop biting your nails! It’s disgusting.

Professor Munch: -right, Nancy?

Nancy: I’m sorry, what was that?

Professor Munch: This model is absolutely stunning! Marvelous, even.

Nancy: R-really? Thank you, Professor.

Professor Munch: Ah! No wonder! Your drawings are very compelling. The way you blend functionality with aesthetics is brillant! A true prodigy!

Professor Munch: I am very proud of you, Nancy. Keep it up.

Nancy: Hi Professor. I know I’m a little early for office hours, but I really wanted your thoughts on my blueprints.

Professor Munch: Nancy! Are you kidding! Anything for my star pupil. Take a seat.

Professor Munch: If I’m being honest, I don’t have much critique.

Nancy: Staying on top of my grades is really important to me. My GPA is 3.7 but I know I can do more to improve. I can do better-

Professor Munch: [huffs affectionately] Nancy! You are my brightest and best student! I’d say it’s in your blood. I haven’t seen such vision and passion in my student’s work since I taught your brother.

Nancy: Nathan was your student?

Professor Munch: Oh, Nathan was my star! In the short time I spent with him, he has shown me what true artistry looks like. That kid had an eye for detail. He always spoke so fondly of his little baby sister, Nan; he’d call you. [sighs] I miss him dearly.

Professor Munch: I thought of quitting and getting back into the field after he passed. I was devastated when I found out about the accident. My partner pushed me to continue teaching. She knew there was nothing I loved more than handing the tools to brillant kids like you and Nathan to shape our future.

Nancy: Partner? [frowns] Your...partner?

Professor Munch: Monica. We were roommates in college and have been stuck to each other like glue since!

Nancy: So, she’s your best friend?

Professor Munch: Oh certainly. My best friend, my muse, my partner.

Nancy: What about your husband?

Professor Munch: Husband?

Nancy: I- sorry. Nevermind.

Professor Munch: Talk to me, dear. What’s on your mind?

Nancy: I guess I don’t understand. You’re wearing a ring but you have no photos of your husband. You seem...close with her, in the photo.

Professor Munch: I was married once. We have three children together. Sweetest man alive. We’re still friends to this day. We both realized that we had our hearts in different places. In the end, I had my Monica. My soulmate.

Nancy: [sobs quietly]

Professor Munch: Oh, no. Nancy? Dear, are you alright?

Professor Munch: [softly] Oh, sweet darling. You’re hurting, aren’t you? Can I hold you? Is that ok?

Nancy: [nods once]

Professor Munch: You let it all out, you hear me? Just let it all out. I got you.

Nancy Narrates: [I wondered what kind of person I’d be had my mother held me like this]

Professor Munch: There’s a small club that I support that meets every Friday in the commons. I think you should stop by.

Nancy: Thank you Professor but, I think I’ve already decided to join a sorority.

Professor Munch: I’ll tell you what, it’s not something you have to join or commit to, but I think there’s something to gain by coming. Plus, there’s someone I’d like you to meet. You two have a lot in common.

Morgan: Holy shit, hey! It’s Nancy Landgraab! Get over here!

[aayakashii]

It seems I haven't quite had my fill of cuteness. So I humbly ask for part 4 of the plushie series with Luca, Ritsu, Zenji, Tohma, and Rui.

It's ok if you don't want to also

The most requested thing!! hehehe |ू´꒳`) I'm really happy you guys like the plushie headcanons, and thanks to the anon who originally requested it a few months ago too!!

Part 1, part 2, part 3

How Tokyo Debunker boys react after receiving a cute little plushie from MC – Luca, Ritsu, Zenji, Tohma, Rui, Ed and Lyca

Lucas Errant – husky plushie

Extremely happy that he is receiving such a thoughtful gift from you!

He never truly allowed himself to play with toys because of his studies, and then came the guilt of losing his brother… Letting himself relax like that barely ever crossed his mind.

So he doesn't really know what to do???

He just perches the cute plushie on his desk and politely greets it whenever he leaves his room and gets back.

He's a bit confused, but he's got the spirit!

Since the husky is always on his desk, it kinda becomes his study buddy really quick too.

Luca ends up reciting his notes to it and reading his books out loud, so it helps him get even better grades (if that's even possible).

He notices this and IMMEDIATELY goes to thank you.

He is 100% sure that you had this crazy elaborate plan to make him get better grades, which is why you made the plushie for him.

Now he’s asking you to maybe make one for Kaito so he stops going to so many remedial classes…

Because he’s denser than a (quickly researches what is the densest rock in the world) peridotite

And doesn’t realize that you gave him a handmade gift because you LIKE him........

He’ll have to ask someone for help after you get upset with him because of this.

Because the husky plushie definitely doesn’t know either and, for some reason, Kaito just refuses to help him!

Cut him some slack… he’s just dense. Like a peridotite.

Shinjo Ritsu – otter plushie

"For me?"

"Yes."

"I believe you are aware that a gift, in the law of property, is the voluntary and immediate transfer of property from one person to another and in order for the it to be legally effective it has to have donative intent, the delivery of the gift to the donee, and the acceptance of the gift."

“Okay...?”

“Therefore I accept the gift.”

“Cool…”

Congratulations, you have just given Ritsu his first official associate.

Or at least this is what he says to himself in his mind.

He was trained to become a lawyer since he was a little kid, so he never thought about playing with toys that much (and his father didn’t push him to do so as well).

But he gotta admit, having a handmade plushie, something his partner (as in business partner! Don’t get him wrong!) made for him exclusively does bring a feeling of joy he never quite felt before.

If anyone so much as THINK about touching his gift, he will be ready to recite the entire constitution, and every single law they broke, AND declare how many years they’ll get in prison just for touching his little otter friend.

He takes things such as private property very seriously after all.

He won’t take the plushie everywhere with him (what about safety?), but he does keep it right next to him in bed when he’s reviewing all the records he made throughout the day.

For a second, he wonders if he could sneak a camera into a plushie and give it to you, but oh no, that would be an invasion of privacy!

Or at least only until he finds a loophole in the law.

Kotodama Zenji – koi plushie

"My dear!!! Oh you truly are the most lovely flower to ever grace this earth! If my heart could still beat, it would be racing for you!!"

You managed to steal a little beaded bracelet artifact, something weak (or at least you hope so), and tied it on the plushie's tail.

And your theory was successful! Zenji could actually touch it, just like he could carry his doll due to its anomalous properties.

To say he’s absolutely SMITTEN with the plushie is an understatement.

He loves anything artistic and knowing that you spent your precious time creating that cute plushie for him makes him so so happy!

WILL carry it everywhere and write ballads about the koi. And poems. And he will read every single myth involving kois and post them on his youtube channel as well (please like and subscribe... PLEASE...)

Haku has the time of his life laughing at Zenji, because now he carries his doll, his biwa AND his plushie everywhere.

If you keep giving him gifts, he might actually need a whole cart to carry everything around him.

The little koi and the doll become his most loyal fans, and his company during nighttime, when everyone’s asleep.

If you see a koi plushie outside your window, don’t freak out. It’s just Zenji watching you sleep again.

He has the habit of calling the doll "his brother" and now he’s gonna call the koi plushie "his dearest".

The two people he cares about the most, right there in his arms: Jiro and you.

Ishibashi Tohma – orca plushie

"Oh? I wonder what made you think I am fit for receiving such an adorable little gift."

Tohma… does not know what to do with the gift you just gave him.

Don’t get him wrong, he appreciates it! Truly. He is mesmerized by the fact that you made a whole orca plushie with your own hands.

But he also doesn’t see how someone as intimidating as him deserves such an adorable gift.

Maybe all those months serving someone else with little appreciation made him forget how it feels to be pampered…

He places the plushie in the vault, right on his desk, and it becomes his companion when he needs to go through paperwork.

Tohma tried giving it a hug once and he got so damn sleepy RIGHT AWAY that now he just pats its head whenever he needs to take a break.

That little thing is dangerous, making him feel so comfortable… He can’t sleep, he’s a busy man! A little headpat to acknowledge the plushie will have to suffice.

However, he still hasn’t tried taking the plushie to his room yet.

He’s quite worried that his sleep will just be filled with dreams about you.

And oh dear... it'd be way too tough to wake up from something pleasant like that.

Mizuki Rui – black bunny plushie

You torture him, being so cute!

A plushie? For him? A black bunny you made with your own hands?!

He wishes he could squish you to death, but that could become quite literal if he actually touched you.

So instead, he squeezes the hell out of the bunny.

Absolutely loves the gift and takes it EVERYWHERE with him.

It basically becomes his bar’s little mascot.

He kisses the bunny’s cheeks every single time he lays his eyes on it. There’s a good morning kiss, a good afternoon kiss, a good evening kiss, plenty of see you later kisses… (he just wishes he was actually kissing you).

Rui will definitely get little accessories for the bunny and maybe even get matching ones for you.

He will also name it some variation of your name and refer to it during conversations as if he was talking about an actual living being.

Lyca and Ed are forced to acknowledge the bunny as their new dorm mate, but won’t let Rui get the bunny its own room because that would be too much!!

Oh, Rui will also buy a bottle of your perfume to spray on the plushie so when he hugs it, it smells like you

What? No, of course that’s not creepy at all, silly! He just loves everything about you, including your perfume!

Edward Hart – ram plushie

Oya, look at what his lovely human brought to him. And you made it yourself? Wonderful.

He has watched plenty of DIY tutorials on youtube, but was always too lazy to go through with them.

Now that he knows you’re skillful with your hands, though? Expect plenty of requests. Maybe do a little bat for him next, what do you think?

The little ram probably becomes the only clean thing in his room, despite Ed holding it all the time when he’s bedrotting.

(That’s because Rui cleans it frequently. He doesn’t want you to think your gift went underappreciated)

And when I say constantly, I mean CONSTANTLY.

Something cute and comfy to hold while he rewatches that 10 hour conspiracy iceberg video for the 5th time? That is exactly what he needs.

He will try to take pictures of the ram watching videos with him for you, but it will be terribly unfocused.

You appreciate the thought despite that!

You don’t appreciate the message he sent though...

"Hello My Dear 😘❗️I Just Had To Show You This 📷❗️Look At How My New Little Friend 🐏 Is Watching Youtube 💻 With Me 🦇❤️ He Just Absolutely Loves ❤️ To Watch ✨️ Conspiracy Videos✨️ With Me 🦇 I Tried Inviting Lyca🐺 Too But He Won’t Reply To My Messages ✉️🚫😢 I Wonder Why 🤔❓️ Please Come Visit Me Anytime 👋🏰🥀 We’d Love To Watch Things With You👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨😘💋"

Lyca Colt – wolf plushie

“What's this?”

“It's a gift for you. I made it.”

“What do I do with it?”

“Um... nothing. You can cuddle it when you sleep, I guess?”

“Hmpft! I'm not a child, I don't need to cuddle things!!”

Don't worry, he thanks you properly after Rui scolds him and tells him to express gratitude when he gets gifts.

He is a little bit rough with it at first, since he never had a toy before, but he quickly gets extremely possessive of it and starts treating the plushie with a lot more care.

He WILL growl and bite if someone tries to take it from him.

Lyca kind of acts like a big brother to his wolf plushie, taking him to his favorite spots and explaining the things he learned to it (he needs to practice after all!)

The plushie becomes a nice reminder of you. Whenever he thinks about doing something he shouldn’t, he looks at the wolf’s beady eyes and thinks of yours as well.

Who would’ve thought this would be such a sure-fire way to make him behave a bit more.

Rui, however, is absolutely exasperated because he just knows that plushie will be another thing that will desperately need washing SOON and Lyca just won’t let him clean it.

Lyca eventually wraps his plushie in his stinky baby blanket (much to Rui’s despair) and cuddles with it to sleep every night.

His dreams become all about you, so don’t worry in case he has a little bit of a hard time looking at you the next day (and a little blush on his cheeks). It’s a little hard to explain!

Full masterlist

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Part I

Word count: 3600+

Warnings: mentions of blood, body remains; reader is from Hewn city (I believe that says enough about what to expect here)

Note: I'm posting this just because I'm curious if there would be anyone interested in this story. There won't be next chapter any time soon, not until the rest of Heal me is up. Hopefully I won't need to pretend it's oneshot😮‍💨

Declaration: I hate dancing and have zero knowledge about it, so excuse the lack of description or any vagueness in that part. I tried to look things up, I swear, but the unstoppable rolling of my eyes made it hard to focus🤷

Dividers by amazing @tsunami-of-tears

Part II

A male slowly stepped out of the darkness, the pale face lifted up. His amber eyes found yours, gazing straight into them with hate, all-consuming fire blazing in his irises. His unbounded long red hair flew around him, dancing in the air as flames. He was scary but handsome. Then his mouth twisted into a sadistic grin came in focus and you cried out in fear. His white teeth were covered in blood, streams of it running down his chin, dripping on the front of his shirt.

Blood was dripping even from his long fingers with sharp nails of predator. Down at his feet lay remains of a body, pile of flesh and broken bones, burned so badly that nobody could recognize the person whom it belonged to.

His grin widened and he suddenly dashed forward towards you, his hand reaching for your throat.

You jolted up in dimly lit carriage, cold sweat covering your body. Thankfully, you were all alone and nobody saw you or heard you. This nightmare haunted you almost every time you closed your eyes ever since you were told that you would marry a new High Lord of Autumn Court.

You were born and raised in Hewn city, the cruellest place known to fae world where it was lucky to be born as a male. Unfortunately, you were a female which meant that you were a toy in hands of your father who was just as brutal as that whole place.

You'd spent most of your life in your room without windows, allowed to come out only when you were called or needed. You'd never seen a daylight until this day. Growing up you were often punished whether you did something wrong or not, because you were just a weak female, a possession that could be sold if the offer was high enough. That's how you ended up betrothed to the Heir of Autumn Court on the first place.

You didn't know why you were chosen. You had never spoken with him nor met him in person. You saw him only from afar when he came to Hewn city to negotiate with Keir and later at a ball organized by your High Lord where he danced with one of the High Lady's sisters. It was quite an interesting show and he seemed to be smitten by her.

You watched that all from your dark alcove where you were exposed for the chosen ones but otherwise hidden from prying eyes of others. You weren't allowed to participate directly. You weren't even allowed to talk with other guests. The ball was a market and you were the goods.

However, the horrific rumours about the Heir got to your ears nevertheless. You heard all stories about his cruelty and punishments that he loved to deliver, and later even the stories about how he killed his father and became a High Lord. None of them was a good one, but he wasn't judged here. In Hewn city, he was admired for his rigour. Every male wanted to be like him, every female either feared she would catch his eye or longed for that.

You, for sure, didn't belong to the second group. You didn't want to get married at all. All you dreamt about, was freedom, the possibility to go and do whatever you wanted, but that was out of question for you. You were just a puppet that danced only when a male pulled the strings. Now you were a property of your father who had planned to sell you for the highest offer from the day you were born, and soon enough you would became a property of your husband. You were nothing, you didn't count.

You were aware of the offers that piled on your father's desk. They started coming when you turned 15, but your father had waited. You didn't know what he did or who he spoke to, when suddenly a marriage proposal came from Autumn Court soon after your 18th birthdays. He didn't hesitate this time and immediately accepted. He couldn't get any higher offer than from the future High Lord himself, could he.

If you thought your life was a torture before, after that it became a hell. Whole year you spent learning all kinds of manners that wife of male with such high position had to know. They taught you what your place in the court and in the private would be, what you had to do to keep it, they beat it into you, breaking you again and again until there were no errors and you were perfectly submissive.

You also had to become an outstanding dancer because your future husband seemed to have a special interest in dance. Even now your toes were still bleeding into your shoes as your last lesson ended right before the departure.

In every aspect you had to be perfect and worthy of High Lord of Autumn. Lady of Autumn Court, your future husband's mother, was given to you as a model of such a perfect wife. Quiet, obedient, representative, beautiful.

Perfect doll to be ruined by her husband when no one was looking.

You feared the future but you had no choice.

You slightly moved the curtain to look out and see the bits of the country behind the window. Because of the nap you lost track of time. Your heart squeezed in dread when you found out you were already in a forest full of red and yellow and golden brown leaves. You had never seen an autumn foliage with your own eyes, but even you with your limited knowledge knew that these were colours of Autumn. You were getting closer to your final ordeal.

It took another hour or two and carriage stopped. Before you could reach for the doorknob, the door flew open and your father's always angry face came to view.

"Get out now," he ordered. He seemed to be in quite a good mood today.

You immediately moved closer to the door and get off. Your heels clicked on the sandstone in the courtyard of a beautiful castle, but you had no time to look around as father shoved you to the entrance. Bowing your head, you submitted.

At the gate you were welcomed by High Lord's advisor, a male with rather a cool demeanour, and some maids who took you to the chamber where you were supposed to get ready and wait until the ceremony began. You didn't bother to even try to lift your gaze, you were too scared to look at people directly. Whenever you dared to look at someone, most of them had no face in your eyes, only an empty mask. You distinguished people mainly by their voices.

You felt your father staring after you coldly as you silently followed the maids, his gaze felt like a sharp knife poking into your back. You were scared he would follow you because you were his priced ticket to wealth now, but soon he turned around and walked away with the advisor in the opposite direction.

Maids were quiet and quick as they helped you to bath and dress. They skilfully braided your long hair into a complicated hairstyle, attached the veil to it, letting it fall down and cover your face. When they were done, with a slight bow they left.

You let out a breath that you didn't even know you'd been holding the entire time they were hopping around you. Nobody bothered to inform you how much time you had left, but it didn't matter anyway. You couldn't run away from your fate.

You were sitting at the vanity table where they left you, looking at the ground as you were taught, your mind empty. You couldn't even mourn the life that you never had and never would have. They successfully turned you into a puppet, a blank canvas ready for your husband to paint on.

Soft knock sounded on the doors and a female's voice called that it's time. You slowly stood up with bowed head and stepped out from the chamber. Small maid led you through corridors and halls to a chapel.

You'd like to look around, wanting to see at least something of your wedding day worth of memorising it, but your father was already waiting for you, angrily tapping his foot.

"Good for nothing as usual," he grunted. "How long do you think we have to wait for you?"

"I'm sorry, father," you said in a small voice.

"Speak properly! You are like your mother, useless. Thankfully from now on, you will be your husband's burden."

He offered you an arm and you immediately took it not wanting to make him any more angry. Together you got ready at the threshold and as music started to play you stepped inside.

The chapel seemed to be quite spacious, full of warm light and crowded with guests. As you walked to the altar you caught glimpses of gold, yellow and white decorations. Your father halted, a pair of shiny black boots stepped closer. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that your father was smiling kindly. You were shocked. It was the first time you saw such expression on his cruel face.

Your father said something to that male and he answered. Your heart was beating so fast and loudly that you hardly heard the music. Father took your hand and offered it to the male who surprisingly gently accepted it. Fingers that wrapped around yours were pale and long just as in that nightmare, but instead of icy cold you felt warmth seeping into your skin. Your father stepped away, leaving you with this male. The transaction was apparently successful.

"Can we?"

A deep voice spoke lowly, snapping you out of the new kind of darkness that began to pull you into its void. You inhaled sharply. It wasn't that deadly voice that haunted you in sleep but a quite pleasant, rich one that felt like a warm blanket, a liquid honey flowing into your ears that were used to only harsh words. Rich aroma of spicy cinnamon and apples roasted on fire filled your nose.

You nodded, still not daring to look up. He led you to the altar where a priestess was waiting for you. As you stood before her, he turned to you one more time. His fingers touched the edge of the veil, lifting it up. You kept your eyes down as you were taught.

"Look at me," he commanded softly.

Carefully, inch by inch you raised your eyes, taking in first his trousers in cream colour, then his elegant tailored moss jacket with gold details that hugged his chest perfectly. He didn't look like a mass of muscles as the general of Night Court did even though before he had the same rank. Your soon-to-be husband seemed to be rather lean, but definitely a warrior with muscles on right places. And so tall, impossibly tall, that you hardly reached up to his shoulders.

It felt like forever until your gaze finally reached his face. Like in the nightmares it was pale with bright amber eyes and high cheekbones, his nose was straight and lips full. He wasn't smiling, yet corners of his mouth seemed to be twisted in a permanent smirk. In golden rays of sun penetrating through a round window behind the altar, his red hair had a warm shade, and looked so silky that you had to wonder how it would feel to touch them. Now cut much shorter than the last time you saw him, he just casually combed them back, a few unruly strands falling on his forehead.

His eyes roamed over your face, brows lightly furrowed, then one corner of his lips lifted in a half smile. He was handsome, attractive, there was no doubt about it. You expected him to have the cool, cruel aura you noticed before and he didn't disappoint, but as you were watching him for a while, in his eyes there was something you'd never seen before. Perhaps it was kindness, but what did you know. It was just a foreign word to you, something you never experienced.

It was confusing.

He didn't say if he liked what he saw, his expression gave nothing away. He just turned to priestess, signalling her with a nod of the head to begin the ceremony. You allowed your eyes to linger and watch his profile a little longer before your gaze again slid down to the floor. Hardly perceiving priestess's words, you returned to that quiet place in your mind where you felt safe from the world.

When the ceremony was over, Eris leaned down, gazing at you. This was the part when the groom should kiss the bride. You stayed still, expecting him to move, but he was just waiting. You looked up with silent question in eyes. As soon as your full attention was on him, he moved forward and his lips sealed over yours in a tender kiss. Your eyes widened in surprise, breath caught in your throat. You expected anything from him except of this. He didn't close his eyes either, closely watching your reaction.

Eris tasted like honey and some alcohol. It was a strange combination, but not unpleasant. His lips slightly moved against yours, testing the waters and then it was over.

As if nothing had happened he straightened up and turned to the crowd, offering you an arm. You exhaled shakily, internally shouting at your body to move. You couldn't keep him waiting. Your fingers gripped on his sleeve. Still weak in your knees you could only wish that you wouldn't fall down.

His other hand went up to yours on his arm, adjusting it. Holding it firmly he tugged you closer and led you to the ballroom where the party would take a place.

Why did he behave like this? Did he genuinely care? Or did he notice your state and wanted to just prevent an embarrassing incident? He was supposed to be cruel. Everyone said that about him. Was it just some kind of masquerade and later he would make you pay for your mistakes? You were so confused and nervous.

The celebration program was simple. The ceremony was to be followed by a banquet and finally a party. When you came into the impressive ballroom decorated in the same colours as the chapel, the tables were already bending under the amount of deliciously looking food.

Eris led you to the table in the centre, a bit higher than the rest. He held a chair for you and then took a seat on your right. The other chairs were gradually filled as the guests were coming. Your father was seated at the table on your left, giving you a cold stare. Shiver ran down your spine and your heart started to beat faster. You knew that face. Whatever you had done he was very displeased right now.

Your husband inconspicuously leaned closer.

"Is everything alright?" he asked lowly, eyeing still coming guests. Did he hear your heartbeat even over this noise?

"Of course, my lord," you blushed, focusing on your hands folded on your skirt under the table.

Eris's eyes narrowed on you and then his gaze moved behind you to your father. He immediately stopped frowning at you and instead he conjured a pleasant smile at his new son-in-law. Eris made a small displeased noise and looked away.

When everyone took their seats Eris stood up to give a short speech and a toast. You took a goblet with wine but didn't drink. Could not. You weren't allowed to drink alcohol.

After your husband a dark haired male stood up to toast to newly wed couple. As he spoke you recognized the voice of your High Lord.

Nervously you swallowed.

It was unexpected, but not incomprehensible. Of course he was here. A member of his Court married his ally. This wedding was an important political event. There were certainly also other allied High Lords between the guests. The most powerful beings of this country had eyes on you. And your husband? He was one of them. Not an ordinary High Fae or some aristocrat. A High Lord.

Sudden realisation hit you hard and you felt a growing nausea, heart throbbing in your throat.

When everyone was done toasting, silent servants appeared seemingly from nowhere and started to serve the food to the plates. Not remembering when you had eaten for the last time was your last concern. You were too nervous and frightened to even think about the food right now.

Eris seemed to notice that you were just poking the vegetables with a fork around the plate, pretending you were eating as everyone around.

"Isn't the meal to your taste?" he asked with raised brows quietly.

Under the table you clenched fingers into the skirt of your dress. This male could turn you into a pile of ash if he wanted.

"Everything is delicious, my lord," swallowing hard you answered in a small shaky voice.

He just huffed and after a while returned to his plate and the conversation he had before. You bit on your lower lip. Did you offend him? Would he punish you later? You were on the verge of crying. From the other side of the table you could feel your father's angry gaze. Breathing raggedly you willed the tears back and put down the fork. Your trembling hand reached for a glass of water. Focussing on not spilling it's content, you brought it to your red painted lips and took a sip. You needed to pull yourself together, to overcome it. The show wasn't over yet.

By the time the clattering of cutlery has died down, you managed to calm down a bit. Music that played whole the time, got louder and some of the guests moved to the parquet.

Eris turned to you once again, his eyes lingering on your face. He seemed to think about something. For a brief moment his lips pursed into a thin line.

"We have to dance the first dance. It's a tradition," he spoke coldly.

"Yes, my lord."

You already knew that and you were more than ready even though your healing toes still hurt. This wouldn't be the first time you had to suppress the pain and pretend everything was okay. You could do this.

Despite the too high expectations of your teachers and father, you loved dance. It was the only quite funny activity you were ever allowed to do.

High Lord helped you to stand up and led you to the centre of the parquet. The guests created a circle around you.

Eris's warm hand heavily landed on your waist, holding you firmly, his fingers leaving marks on your skin through the corset. The sudden roughness surprised you and you slightly winced. Thankfully nobody seemed to notice it, not even your husband. Taking your other hand into his, you two took a position and started to move at the exactly same time to the rhythm of the song in a small circles. Eyes pinned to his strong chest right in front of you, you performed your best.

You moved gracefully as you were taught, small sparks in your veins slowly becoming a fire, consuming you. After the first rather stiff steps, your body relaxed and you blended in with the melody, becoming the music. The long skirt of your dress was sweeping the floor with every your step, looking like a flowing mountain stream. You loved that feeling. Eris spun you and you made a perfect pirouette so fast that you whirled two times. Someone in the watching crowd gasped in amazement, several others applauded.

If you dared to look up, you would see the fire in your husband's eyes and a wide smile. He was enjoying this, too, more than he was willing to admit.

The two of you started dancing in bigger and bigger circles, your every move faster than the last one. The crowd around had turned into a blurry smudge, but none of you minded. Eris decided to test you by changing the steps and adding figures, and you responded to every change with ease, without a mistake.

As the song was coming to its end, your husband decided to end the dance with a pretty deep dip. Your back arched under his fingers and suddenly you came face to face with him, your noses almost touching. Your eyes widened in surprise.

Two blazing amber eyes were piercing you with genuine interest, wolfish grin on his lips. His usual merciless expression was replaced by something wild, beautiful and kind of dangerous. He was mesmerising. You were definitely playing with a fire when you reached up, tips of your fingers lightly touching his jaw. Eris blinked and it was gone.

He straightened up and you followed, once again scared that you possibly made a fatal error when you touched his face.

Now all the guests were applauding. Looking around his cold gaze jumped from face to face. He didn't say anything as he bowed to you, kissing the back of your hand and then escorted you back to the table. Both of you were still heaving as you took your seats. He grabbed your glass of water and handed it to you. You thanked him to which he just responded with a nod. Then he took his empty goblet and held it out for the servant to fill it with wine. He drummed with fingers as he waited. As soon as the servant stepped back, he emptied the goblet again.

The musicians started to play another song and parquet filled with dancing pairs. When it seemed that nobody paid you attention any longer, without even looking in your direction Eris reached out under tha table, his fingers lightly brushing your arm from elbow down to your wrist. Finding your hand rested on your lap, he clasped it in his much bigger one and held it for the rest of the evening.

[edgeray]

Custody Battle with a Dragon

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hi 🏹 anon! Accidentally deleted your ask when I did dragon! Arle part 3😅. Uhh… mbad. Reader just kidnapping three random human children is so funny to me, I will never not find this funny. Anyways, just wanted to say the only reason why I’m fulfilling both parts of this ask is because I already have to work on part 3. If I get an ask giving me more than 1 prompt, I will choose only 1 prompt to do. If you want me to do more, feel free to request from me, but with school starting soon, I probably won’t be able to get to many requests until I get used to the first semester.  By the way, since I’m lazy and don’t want to think of more/different worldbuilding, this will be like an alternative universe of my ‘dragon hunter mother' series and it will just be a role reversal. the lore with the hoth though is different from the series, i have a completely different backstory for arle and the hoth hehe. Sorry, this is really awkward and I didn't know how to not write it awkwardly since the reader decides to adopt them just impulsively and I doubt arlecchino would be happy about it. Naturally, they would clash but I tried to get them to get along. Not my best work... :( Content warnings / info - in arle's pov majority of the time, reader is referred as 'it' a few times, 1.6k words

Arlecchino likes to consider herself a successful and (justifiably) proud dragon hunter, among the best for the Tsaritsa. Dragon hunting has been in her veins since she was born into a well-known generation of dragon hunters. She's been trained and has performed the best out of her class in the kingdom’s most renowned dragon hunting academy, the House of the Hearth. Now, as the new head of the House of the Hearth, as ‘Father,’ she's able to change some things. 

For how rigorous and demanding the old House of the Hearth, underneath Crucabena (that despicable woman), it was also quite the precarious and perilous, though that was to be expected with what came with dragon hunting in general. It was easy to get into the House of the Hearth if you had enough money, and by then, you had basically paid for an early grave. Arlecchino remembers that the majority of her peers died, one way or another, before graduating. Families that were wealthy enough and had enough children were happy to enroll some of their children as an investment; being a dragon hunter paid immensely well given that they were paid by the kingdom themselves. 

Now, the classes were fewer due to the rigor requirements. Arlecchino has no need for people that want the job just for the money or to roleplay–with that mindset, they'll get themselves killed. For those seeking glory with none of the gore, for wealth without wear, dragon hunting is far on the list for what Arlecchino would recommend. It is daunting and never safe or relaxing. For this reason, the House of the Hearth takes very few individuals, often strays that she deems worthy and resilient enough for the task. A year is all it takes for her to train the small batch into formidable dragon hunters, about three times more valuable and efficient than the average hunter. 

This year's batch is particularly small, but that does make for more personalized lessons and unique opportunities. It's much easier to allow three children to accompany you on a dragon hunting mission than it is ten. 

Today is one of those days for the children to witness how a real dragon hunter deals with a dragon. Most hunters work in a group to hunt a singular dragon, though the best can do it alone. Today's dragon has been reported to have been killing some livestock occasionally–a few chickens here or there. At the very least, the dragon hasn't destroyed any other property besides the chicken pens, nor has there been any assaults on the people but the kill order is set in stone. Pity has no place among this job, but it is a shame to have to kill an innocuous dragon. 

“Children, maintain a good distance as we have always done. This dragon has been reported to be a two-paired dragon, so be cautious. I trust that you three will be able to handle yourselves during your observing?”

Lyney, the leader out of the three, nods. “Of course, Father.” 

The order should have been simple. It is. A two-paired-winged dragon is usually of little difficulty for Arlecchino, even with how volatile dragons are. Baiting them with fire as well as a large portion of fish is enough to draw the dragon out without waiting for it. With the help of the children, the preparations were done quickly, and all there is left to do is to ignite the fire and wait. 

Except, Arlecchino waits for quite some time. In fact, an hour has passed, and there are no signs of a dragon. Perhaps the villagers were mistaken on the dragon's whereabouts, though instances like these are rare. Nonetheless, it seems like that case, and the dragon hunter heads towards where she last left the trio. As she does, she hears a muffled outburst, recognizing it as Freminet’s, and rushes towards the direction.

Did the dragon target her children on the assumption that they were food? Did she make a mistake, bringing them here? Are their deaths on her hands once more, innocent lives lost because of her again? Her thoughts press her on as she increases her pace, fueled by fury and anxiety for her children. With each child she takes under her wing, with each soul she gently guides, with each hand she teaches how to wield a blade, a bit of her heart has parted and latched onto them. With the three, they are no different, except they are.

Lyney, the ever natural-born leader with a persistence like no other. Lynette, with a placid and rational demeanor to balance her brother's personality and fiercely loyal. Freminet, although timid, holds more potential and skill than he credits himself, and his kindness never fails to shine through even in his conscious actions. These three are endearing, as she has found all children she's taught in such a way before, but perhaps it is these children whom she'd like to call her own finally.

Drawing her sword once she spots the familiar silhouette of a giant, scaly beast, she approaches, only to halt as she takes in the sight. 

A sleeping dragon lays on their stomach in the middle of the forest, curled around Arlecchino's children, their tail hugging the children to the body. Instead of the two-paired-winged dragon that the villagers said, it instead has three-paired wings. That makes the dragon twice as dangerous. 

Against the dragon, Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet sit against the dragon's back. Once they spot the dragon hunter, they noticeably perk up.

Why the dragon is like this, the hunter is not sure, but she knows that it has taken her children. 

“Father!” They simultaneously cry for her. The dragon’s head lifts as they're awakened and turns their head towards the dragon hunter, snarling. They whip their tail upon the grass, and they stand on their legs.  

“Are you hurt in any way?” Arlecchino inquires as she prepares to lunge at the dragon. 

“Wait, Father, don't kill it!” Lyney states as he ducks underneath the dragon's tail, escaping from its vicinity quite easily. “It hasn't hurt us!”

“No? Then why did it take you three?” Arlecchino questions, her blade still pointed at the creature. Their slitted eyes glare at the swordswoman in response, also tensing for an assault. It spun its body the other way, this time standing in between Arlecchino and Lyney, and Lynette and Freminet. They maneuver their head to be beside Lyney, using their head to almost shield him from the hunter. 

“I don't know, but… it–they clearly have no intentions of hurting us. See?” Lyney hesitantly reaches out, running his hand on the underside of the dragon's mouth, and the dragon coos from the action, before opening their mouth to lick his hand. 

“I think…” Freminet states outloud, though his appearance is obstructed from Arlecchino’s view thanks to the dragon. “That we're their young. They have been offering us fish, and they're doing this right now.” 

Arlecchino contemplates the situation. The dragon had essentially adopted her children as their own, perhaps even imprinting them already, claiming them as their own. Trying to take the children away would not do any good, especially if it feels threatened, there is no saying what it would do to the nearby surroundings when enraged. But the dragon has been hostile, and given the children's defense for it… it seems that it is rather docile. The hunter narrows her eyes on the dragon, sending a nonverbal warning before sheathing her blade. The dragon relaxes. 

“Even though you three remain unharmed, you still are my children, and under my care. I cannot simply give them away to you,” Arlecchino addresses the dragon, placing a hand on Lyney's shoulder. “Do you not have any young yourself? Why take human children?” 

The creature growls, before shifting away from Lyney. Abruptly, the dragon's form is outlined with a blinding light, and when the light dies down, you stand in place of the beast. The three children gap at you, but Arlecchino remains unfazed, already aware that you have a human form. 

“I cannot bear any children without any mate,” you gruff, your tail flicking behind you in an agitated way. “Why can't I keep human children? They look so small. I can feed them better.” 

Arlecchino steps closer, her eyebrows furrowed slightly in vexation. “My children's diets are fine, and they are not in need of more.” 

“The little ones are tiny even for just hatchlings. You cannot feed your young better?” 

Never did Arlecchino think she’d have to fight a custody battle with a dragon. Should she kill you? No, the children have already rejected it. Though, she cannot deny that you are much more appealing now that you are in a human form…

“Children, what do you think of this?” Arlecchino questions, and all three, expectedly, hesitates. None of them could ever expect a predicament like this, and not surprisingly, a definite answer is hard to come from them.

“I will come with you,” you suddenly suggest, eyes gleaming with determination. “And you will feed me and not harm me. In turn, I will protect and parent the little ones, and I will not destroy another human’s building. Is that enough for you, dragon hunter?” 

“You will do that for human children you just met?” 

“I’ve been wanting children for over a decade. If they come in the form of another species, then so be it,” you assert, and your stubbornness only makes Arlecchino sigh. This is a headache. Though, it was nearly winsome of how protective you are over them, and Arlecchino can do nothing but surrender.

Arlecchino, proud dragon hunter, ‘Father’ to three, and now sharing custody with a dragon. 

[cuntdestroyer3000]

Godless

moodboard not meant to be a physical description of reader, just her vibes/clothes

western au! dark!outlaw!Joel Miller x f!prostitute!reader playlist part two here

My contribution to dead dove December hehehe. I love dead doves so I'm very happy to participate! @romana-after-dark

Summary: You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

word count: ~5.6k

DARK, dead dove: minors dni!! rough smut, prostitution, reader gets called a whore, sexual slavery, being bought/sold, angst, being owned and considered property, descriptions of men being violent with each other, Joel is possessive and very dominant, reader is very submissive, stockholm syndrome. dubcon, reader obeys but she doesn't have a choice. It's only gonna get darker from here mamas. Unprotected sex, STDs don’t exist in this universe, yeehaw. No use of y/n

A/N: Prepare for light old timey language. Yeehaw shit, in my heart I am a wild west man. Also I have no fucking idea what kind of money they used in the wild west so I just wrote gold coins lmao. Reader doesn't necessarily have a specific accent but she talks like an old timey western person, reader is just a girl in the world, god bless her. set in old west California LAWLESS LAND CALI WAS CRAZY BACK THEN BRUH

-

You tried to even your breathing as you hurriedly did your makeup, slapping your powder onto your face frantically. The other girls scurried around you, the collective energy was tense and you all shared a feeling of anxiety that was rising as the minutes ticked on.

The bar always went into a frenzy whenever Joel Miller and his men rode through town. You hadn’t been working here for that long but you’d already been here long enough for their visits. His men were animals, every girl dreaded it when they came to the brothel.

Joel and his men are shameless, getting drunk in the saloon and picking fights, riding through town and plundering all the folks living there, demanding "payments" in the form of money, food, jewelry, anything they could find that was worth taking. Payments that the people of your town made so that he would let them keep living there. He made it clear that we could wipe out the whole town if he wanted to, leaving you a people without anything. And that's if he left you all alive.

-

You hadn’t been living in the town that long. After your father died, you set off west with a man who you thought had loved you. Things had fallen out with him when you finally reached California, and he had left you all alone in this scary new world.

Luckily the people of the town had taken you in, but your shelter and safety came at a price. When you arrived, you had nowhere to live, no money, nothing.

The town brothel seemed like the only solution. You had a place to live, a job, a community. You made peace with having to let men defile you. Most of them were nice enough and your pimp took good care of all of you.

This world was cruel, you did what you needed to do to get by.

-

You adjusted your breasts where they sat in your low cut dress, pushed up by your corset. You fixed your hair and adjusted the garter on your stockings.

“Well at least we look nice.” A voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts.

You turned and tried to muster a smile for your friend, Anna-Leigh, who was pinning up her blonde curls.

She clocked your fear and reached out her hand to take yours. You couldn’t look at her because if you did you’d cry, and you couldn’t afford to smudge the black pigment you’d put on your eyelashes.

“I know you don’t want to, honey.” She said softly, “But we’ve gone through this before.” Her southern accent never failed to soothe you.

You nodded,

“Yeah.” You sniffled.

“They’re gonna do what they always do, we just gotta deal with it and then they leave.” She said firmly.

“And if they really give us trouble, Mr. Polk will put a stop to it right quick.” 

You nodded a little more confidently, remembering that your pimp, Mr. Polk kept a gun on his hip every hour of the day.

No longer able to delay the inevitable, you took a deep breath, and followed your friend and the other girls out of the vanity area and down to the saloon.

-

Walking down the stairs, you analyze the chaotic scene. You’ve managed to understand how to navigate it so as to not cause any trouble. Keep your head down, be a good girl, let them do what they want and then they leave. Your pimp paid you all extra whenever Joel's men came through. Sometimes he’d give you all new dresses, it does make you feel better but it does little to ease the aching between your legs that persists whenever he and his men visit.

You all disperse and walk among the crowd. Usually most girls will immediately go and talk a man up but now you all just stand around awkwardly, letting men approach you and take you upstairs, or just take you right down here.

You’re taken upstairs a few times by a few different men. And later on, you’re sitting in a very drunk man’s lap down in the saloon with your breasts out, smoking a cigarette. He's playing a poker game and slowly losing everything.

Your eyes scan your surroundings: men brawling, naked women bent over, their legs splayed open. The usual.

Through the clamor around you, you can feel his eyes on you.

Joel Miller.

You'd seen him before, and his cold gaze had made your skin crawl.

You knew he was dangerous and you’d heard the stories about him. You’d never talked to him, only seen him when he came by. After making his rounds through the town, he’d just sit at the bar and drink as his men ran wild. To your knowledge, he didn’t even have sex with any of the girls.

You tried to avoid his gaze but you could feel his eyes on you through the thick haze of smoke. It wasn't fair that he was so handsome, weathered from the desert sun. His soft brown hair was laced with gray, just like his short scruffy beard. He looked like could've been a man that was kind, if it wasn't for the dead stare in his eyes. Meeting his eyes you could see how cold blooded he was, how merciless.

After a while, Joel instructed his men to gather everything up. The barkeep and your pimp seemed like they couldn’t wait to get rid of them, their regulars bloodied and slumped over, the bar a mess.

You were pulling the top of your dress back over your breasts when you spotted Joel speaking to your pimp, who was looking distressed. Your stomach churned. That couldn’t be good.

You were on your way up the stairs when you heard your name being called, panic flooded your system.

You turned, frozen. Your heart was pounding as the other girls ran by you.

Anna-Leigh tugged your arm, "C'mon!"

You turned and the only thing you could do was shake your head.

"What's wrong?" She asked, confused.

Your pimp, growing impatient, walked up the stairs and grabbed your elbow, dragging you down.

"I know y'don't want to." He grumbled, "But I'm not bein' given much of'a choice."

Your feet dragged on the wood as you struggled to catch your footing. Did Joel suddenly decide he wanted to fuck you? Mr. Polk yanked you over to him.

Joel's broad form towered over you as you approached. You felt small under his gaze, you'd never been this close to him before. You took in his scent of desert dirt and sweat. His broad shoulders, hulking biceps and soft stomach stretched his stained white button down. The fringe on his cowhide jacket swayed as he took his hat off his head and ran a hand through his graying curls.

You stood looking up at him, eyes wide. He looked down at you without a hint of warmth and grabbed your arm roughly, spinning you around.

You gasped at his touch and anticipated to be bent over and have your skirt hiked up. Instead he just looked at you and turned you back to face him. He made an approving grunt and nodded his head.

"Yeah." His voice was deep and gruff, "This one."

He reached into his bag on the bar and pulled out a sack that he let fall open, gold coins falling out all over the counter.

You started to feel sick.

"Give you this for her." He said casually.

A spike of fear bolted through you.

"W-what?"

Your pimp sighed and turned to you,

"Go get y'things honey."

"What?" That felt like all you could say, "N-no."

You turned to see Anna-Leigh and the other girls staring at you. Your friend looked just as terrified as you felt. Tears freed themselves from your eyes.

"God damnit girl I said go get your fucking things." Mr. Polk yelled and gave you a shake. You looked at Joel who simply nodded his head up, as if telling you to go upstairs.

You sniffled and ran up the stairs, your sobs breaking through as you graced the landing and echoing as you flung yourself into your room.

-

You hiccuped as you threw your few belongings into a suitcase, everything blurred as you cried.

You were only able to get a few items packed before you broke down and sobbed uncontrollably.

You suddenly felt the arms of your friend wrapping around you as other girls gathered around you, all stroking and hugging you.

You blinked back tears and tried to speak but you couldn’t. They just held you as you all cried. There wasn’t really anything they could say to make things better anyway.

You gasped and shuddered, trying to catch your breath. Anna-Leigh took your face in her hands,

“It’s okay, baby, breathe.” She said, tears falling down her face as well. You shook your head and kept crying.

Your pimp appeared in the doorway, looking mournful as he held his hat in his hands.

“How dare you!” Anna-Leigh screamed at him from where she held you.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking down, “It’s either her or they take all a’you. Destroy the bar, hell maybe even the whole town.”

You cried harder, realizing that there was truly no way out of this. If you didn’t go with Joel, you’d be damning your sisters. You let out a final anguished cry before you got up shakily and continued to pack your things. You went down to the bar which was quiet, the men all watching with bated breath.

Mr. Polk escorted you down and you walked over to Joel again, whose smirk made you nauseous. You looked down at the floor as one of his men took your bag from you.

“Alright sweetheart.” Your pimp murmured, “You be good for Mr. Miller now.”

You nodded as tears ran down your face silently.

“Move out.” Joel addressed his men.

It hit you again that you were really leaving and you started sobbing again.

“No please!” You begged your pimp, “Don’t let him take me please!”

Joel reached out and grabbed your arm,

“I ain’t got time for this girl!” He sneered and ripped you away.

“No…” you cried as he dragged you along.

Anna-Leigh ran up and hugged you one last time. Joel let her, but made an irritated noise and squeezed you painfully when she took too long.

She pulled away and grabbed your face in her hands.

“You can do this.” She said, her voice breaking, “You’re gonna be strong.”

You hiccuped and shook your head,

“Be strong ok?” She nodded at you as Joel finally wrenched you away.

“That’s enough!” He barked, “I’ve already been mighty patient with you folks. Stop fuckin’ testing me!”

Everyone stared at him, silent and full of fear.

You could only cry harder as he dragged you outside. He picked you up and set you on his horse, untying its reigns from the post. 

“Hey!” You heard a voice call out and turned on the horse to see one of your drunken regulars, stumbling towards you,

“Thas’ my favorite whore!” He slurred, “My favorite fuckin’ whore, y’can’t-“ he hiccuped and stumbled. The people of the town shuffled out of their houses to watch the action.

Joel smiled at the man coldly,

“That’s your favorite whore, huh?” He asked, standing over him. He rolled him over with the toe of his boot.

“M-my whore.” The man warbled.

Joel didn’t really know why but white hot rage shot through him. He inhaled sharply and stomped on the man’s face, hard. He heard you gasp from the back of his horse which only ignited him further.

“She’s my fuckin’ whore now!” He yelled and spat in his face.

Fueled by rage and power, he turned to his right hand with an idea.

“Get me the rope, John.”

The man writhed on the ground, moaning and clutching his face. Joel approached the back of his horse with the rope, making you shuffle back in fear.

“Relax darlin’ this ain’t for you.” He breathed and tied the end of it to the saddle. Then, he turned to the man and bent down, tying the rope around his hands above his head.

You watched in shock and heard people around you, whispering.

“Alright!” Joel said after he was done. He got up onto the horse in front of you.

“Hold on baby.” He said softly and you reluctantly wrapped your arms around his middle.

Adrenaline coursed through him at the thought of the freedom of the mountains, of riding out of this stupid town with a pretty girl on his horse and a worthless drunk at his mercy. He turned to see John, who was giving him a knowing smile, the one he always gave him before they rode.

“Let’s ride.” Joel said, his voice gravelly like the desert sand. Before you could blink, they urged their horses onward and took off at high speed. You couldn’t help but let out a little scream as you startled and grabbed at him.

Your noise of shock was substituted by the agonized screams of the man being pulled by Joel’s horse. Begging and crying just like you had earlier.

You turned and watched the town get smaller, Anna-Leigh stood at the front of the crowd and gave you a pitiful wave. You looked down and saw the bloody body of the man.

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned back around, whimpering as you buried your face in Joel’s broad back.

Your tears stained his jacket as you rode away from the place that you had made your home. Towards a terrifying, shackled future.

-

As you journeyed on, you sat behind Joel on his horse, your hands clinging to his weathered leather jacket. His silence only made you more uneasy.

You feared for what the future held, gone was the stability of the brothel, the protection of your pimp. You were in a lawless land with a man who answered to no one. You’d heard the stories about Joel Miller, about the things he’d done.

You didn’t know how he’d treat a woman, if he’d be rough or gentle. Or if he’d throw you to his men. That was what you were the most afraid of.

You traveled for hours, eventually setting up camp as the sun began to set. As the air grew colder, Joel passed you a thick blanket to wrap around yourself. You sat in front of the fire with him as his men kept themselves occupied.

You brooded as you stared into the fire. You were still kind of in shock. This man had taken you away from everything, your life was gone. You didn't know if you were ever going to see your friends again.

You didn't realize, when you'd started spreading your legs for men, that this could happen. That you could be bought and sold like cattle.

You were scared for life with this godless outlaw. You didn't even know where you'd be living. Would you just sleep out in the desert like this? Would you spend the rest of your days being pounded by vicious men into the hard, dry earth?

"Want ‘sum meat?" Joel's gruff voice broke you from your thoughts. You turned to him apprehensively. He held out a piece of dried meat, offering it to you.

"Go on."

You slowly took it from him and took a bite like a scared wild animal. It was pretty good.

"Thank you." You said softly.

Joel looked satisfied with your response, you were both quiet for a while longer until you finally couldn't help yourself.

“Is this uh…” You spoke and he looked over to you, the fire casting sharp shadows across his handsome features.

“Is this how you normally live?” You finally asked, hoping you weren’t being disrespectful.

Joel shook his head after a moment.

“We’re travelin’ now.” He said, “but we got a place, nice and comfortable for a lady.”

You smiled a little bit at that last part.

“Thank you sir.” You wished you didn’t sound so scared, “I was just curious.”

“S’alright.” He grumbled out and began focusing on whittling a piece of wood.

-

The journey was hard but you tried your best to keep up. Joel never raised his voice at you, he didn’t really talk to you all that much in general. He hadn’t even touched you yet either. It seemed he was focused on getting everyone home.

His strength and capability drew you to him, but he still scared you.

After days of traveling, you finally reached where he and his men lived; a small grouping of cabins a mile or so away from a small village. It was just as well, since the sun was beginning to set over the horizon.

You still weren't sure what to think. Joel has been gentlemanly towards you so far. He still scared you though. His smoldering silence made you more uneasy than any unsavory man you'd ever encountered. He kept all his cards concealed, barely spoke, only when he needed to. His calm felt like that which preceded a storm, he commanded respect.

You didn't know what to expect from him.

You entered one of the larger cabins with Joel. It was nice, modest, and smelled of carpentry and tobacco. He set down his lantern on one of the wooden tables and dropped your things down with a slight groan.

His men unloaded everything, then they all nodded at each other and all left, closing the door and leaving you with Joel.

He moved purposefully, picking up wood from a corner and moving to the fireplace.

"Need to get a fire goin'." You heard his deep voice in the near darkness. The shadows thrown on his broad back made him seem even larger than he already was.

You didn't move, unsure of what to do, not wanting to make him mad.

After a fire was crackling he moved towards you silently, the wood creaking under his heavy footsteps. You resisted the urge to shrink away from him.

He was so close to you now, right in front of you.

"You were a real good girl on that trip." He said, his gravelly voice soft, the sound immediately went to your cunt and you were shocked at how aroused you suddenly became. 

You weren't sure what to say, you kept your eyes down, your hands behind your back.

He held your jaw and tilted your face up to look at him.

"You need to keep bein' good." He said, his tone a warning, "You don't cause any fuckin' trouble, you do what I say."

You felt breathless, the feeling of his hand on your face setting you on fire.

"Yes sir." You said quickly.

He smiled softly, "Good girl." He said gently and, to your shock, leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You gasped a little.

"Remember," His voice was still soft and velvety, "I own you now." He gripped the back of your neck tightly, "That means you're mine and I decide what to do with you."

You swallowed the dry lump in your throat. You wanted to cry. You never liked being a prostitute, but at least at the brothel you were free, not a man's property. At least, you thought you'd been.

But Joel had paid for you fair and square. You were his now.

You whimpered a little at the thought and he grabbed your hair, yanking your head back,

"Answer me when I talk to you girl." He spat.

"Yes sir, I'm sorry!" you choked out.

Seeming satisfied, he let go and patted your cheek, then moved away. It felt like you could finally breathe.

"I'm gonna get us some supper ," He said, "You stay here, make yourself at home."

With that he was gone. You stood in the single room cabin, your heart rate finally slowing down.

You looked around, the place was big enough, it felt cozy. There were some old chairs by the fire with a small handcrafted table in front of them.

The other side of the room had a big soft looking bed, then there was an area to the right with pots, pans and other things for cooking. Besides a small room off to the side with a basin of water and a cracked mirror, that was it.

It wasn't much, but it was nice. It felt normal. There were blankets everywhere. Cotton, knitted, animal hide, what have you.

It all made you feel a little better, but not by that much.

Joel came back in and gathered fixings for dinner. He had you both sit in front of the fire outside along with his other men. You all sat on logs gathered round. His men were boisterous and shameless as usual, but they only did so much as leer at you.

The food was pretty good, and you appreciated the hot meal.

When you shivered a little bit, Joel slipped off his fringe jacket and put it around your shoulders. You looked up at him and couldn't help but smile a little. How sweet, how...considerate.

He looked down at you, and smiled back. The wrinkles around his brown eyes became more pronounced, making his normally dead piercing gaze softer, kinder. A warmth bloomed in your chest.

-

After dinner was done, you both returned to his cabin. He cleaned up as you got comfortable, changing into a long, off the shoulder white cotton dress that held your breasts nicely.

You settled into his bed. It smelled like wood, tobacco, whiskey, him. The blankets and pillows were soft and you tucked your legs up, opening your diary. Beginning a new entry, you didn't even know where to start. Your entries were definitely going to get more interesting.

You wrote for a while before you heard a man enter the cabin. Looking up, you saw Joel and began to stand up but he put up a hand, stopping you.

You watched him walk over to the fire, his knees creaking a little as he bent down and threw a fresh log in. 

He sighed and slumped back in one of the chairs, kicking off his boots, unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his shirt.

You observed him for a while, his beautiful hooked nose illuminated by the firelight, his hair looked soft, his tough expression relaxed a bit.

You finally lost interest and returned to your diary, desperately trying to explain to it how you came to be in this situation.

Joel took swigs from his flask and worked on his whittling as you wrote. He liked the peacefulness, he liked that there was a pretty girl in his bed. You had come with him so easily, been so obedient. Sure, you'd been upset initially, but he hadn’t expected you not to be.

You'd been good, so far. You followed his orders and you were thankful for all the things that he gave you.

Compliant little thing.

He suddenly got an idea.

-

You had already covered two pages in writing when he called your name.

You sat up quickly and set your diary on his bed, slid off and walked across the wooden floor until you were in front of him.

“Yes sir?” You asked, your heart pounding slightly.

“Take off your dress.” He said quietly.

The command caught you off guard and you froze for a moment.

“I-what?”

“Take off. Your dress.” He repeated flatly, “Wanna take a look at what’s mine.”

His words both made your stomach hurt and your pussy ache. It felt like your feet and hands were going numb.

You took him in, his hard stare, the yearning and darkness in his eyes. You realized you had been fooled earlier tonight by his chivalry.

You swallowed and nodded, you were used to this business. You took a deep breath and untied the top of your dress, letting the bodice fall loosely around your chest. You gathered the fabric and pulled it over your head. You weren't wearing any undergarments so as your white dress billowed to the ground, you were left completely naked for him.

You heard him make a noise of approval and he nodded, smiling.

"Knew you were a good girl."

He eyed you up and down. His gaze made goosebumps erupt on your skin, causing your nipples to harden as he examined you. He stayed in his chair, his legs spread. You could see his bulge straining against his jeans.

You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your cunt...maybe Joel Miller would be gentle with you?

He finally stood up. Looming over you, he ran his large, rough hands over your arms, then your stomach and finally, up to cup and squeeze your breasts.

You couldn't help but let out a soft moan, Joel chuckled softly,

"I know baby," He rasped, "You've been waitin’ so long, been so patient."

You nodded quickly, your eyes wide as you looked up at him. Your complete submissiveness to him was due to his power, but you couldn't help but feel a little excited for this strong, terrifying man to take you.

"Go get on the bed for me."

"Yes sir." You said softly and he let out an almost inaudible groan. You walked over to the bed and laid on your back, immediately spreading your legs.

Joel laughed a little and shook his head as though in disbelief,

"Damn, I picked the right fuckin’ girl didn't I?"

-

He sat on the bed beside you as you lay, your pussy still on display for him, your arms on either side of your head.

Completely his, ready to be taken by him. It kind of shocked you that you had surrendered and accepted this role so quickly. But then again, you didn't have much of a choice, this was the easy way.

"Damn." He sighed as he let his eyes fall over you. He took his time touching you, slowly playing with you. You let your eyes flutter shut as you let him explore you, taking in his newest possession.

He touched you everywhere, except where you needed him most. You squirmed and whimpered, moving your hips to get his fingers anywhere near your wet cunt.

Joel quickly landed a harsh spank on your pussy and you cried out.

"Cut that shit out." He growled, "You're gonn' take what I give you and be a grateful little whore."

You nodded quickly.

"Say it."

"I'm-I'm gonna be a grateful little whore."

"Thas' right."

His thick fingers dragged through your dripping cunt and you let out a moan. He drew closer to you, inhaling the dizzying scent of your arousal and spreading your slickness up to your clit.

"Joel..." You whined and rolled your hips against his fingers.

"Good girl," He said huskily, "Jus like that."

He moved his fingers faster and you moaned and arched your back. No man had ever taken his time with you in this way.

You felt the pleasure wash over you and you let your moans echo around the cabin freely. You'd learned it wasn't a bad thing to be loud, your old pimp had always told you it was good advertising.

After taking in your reaction to that, Joel shifted his focus and curiously buried two thick fingers into your cunt. You moaned and gasped at the way he stretched you, it felt fucking amazing.

"Joel!" You cried out and rocked your hips in time with his hand. Following his movements and somehow doing exactly what he wanted.

He liked how responsive you were, how obedient.

He pulled his fingers out of you without warning and you whined at the sudden emptiness.

Joel got on his knees on the bed, towering over you. He pulled his shirt off and undid his jeans, pulling them down just enough to free his cock.

You audibly gasped when you took in the sight of it and he laughed a little.

"What? Not expectin’ me to be this big?"

"I-no-sir I didn't-I mean-" You stuttered.

"S'alright sweetheart." He murmured, "You wanna touch me?"

You stared at his thick manhood. You had no idea how fucking big it was, you reached your hand out and wrapped it around him, your fingers just meeting each other around his girth.

Oh fuck.

You whined and pumped his length, spitting on it and letting it spread over him.

His cock was beautiful, powerful and imposing, resting rock hard and heavy between his strong thighs. His balls hung heavy, his dark hair running wild up to his round stomach.

You sighed, contentedly.

Joel smirked, his large hand resting on the side of your head, cradling you as your hand worked him.

You looked up at him submissively, your eyelashes fluttering. Joel moaned at the way you pleaded for him without even saying anything. You were like a siren. He'd known you were the one the minute he saw you down in that saloon.

He suddenly pushed you back, roughly. Making you yelp out in surprise as your head hit the soft pillows. He looked at you hungrily and grabbed your hips, flipping you over so you landed on your stomach, bouncing up off the bed a little.

He yanked your hips up so you were on your knees, grunting and breathing heavily. You moaned and arched your back, spreading yourself for him.

You felt the head of his cock swipe through your folds and your heart raced with anticipation. He took a sharp inhale before slamming into your cunt with a snarl.

"FUCK!" You cried out, not expecting the sudden burn or stretch. Even with how wet you were, his massive cock split you open.

You gasped and whined as Joel kept himself buried in your pussy, groaning as he rocked his hips, getting harder and more forceful.

You let yourself become undone by him and he started sliding out and slamming into you more, getting faster and more enthusiastic.

He grunted and breathed heavily through gritted teeth as he pounded into you. He threw his head back, using his grip on your hips to move you and fuck your pussy. The way you moaned and screamed for him only spurred him further, abusing your cunt.

He was in control. He bought you, he owned you, you were his whore. Forever.

"Oh fuck!" He groaned, gasping as those thoughts brought him even closer, along with the squeeze of your cunt.

You couldn't even speak, your face was pressed into the pillow as you cried and drooled. You'd lost track of how many times you'd come, just letting yourself be used by him at this point. You couldn't deny that it felt amazing.

Joel leaned over and put a paw-like hand over the back of your head, crushing your face into the bed as he leaned over. Putting his weight on you, he used that to fuck you even harder.

Your cries were muffled and you almost couldn't breathe. Joel's thrusts became sloppier and you heard his breathing turn into desperate moaning. He finally came, thick ropes of cum shooting directly into you making you gasp and moan. The men at the brothel were never allowed to cum in you. If a girl got pregnant, she either got it taken care of or she was out.

But you were Joel's now. And Joel was the one who decided what happened to you.

He fucked his cum into you more, causing it to spurt out. Then he pulled back, you took a deep breath and relaxed onto the bed, his cock still keeping you plugged up.

"That's right baby." He murmured, "Good girl."

You let out a beautiful whine, your cunt tightening around his cock as he stroked your hair away from your face.

He sighed as he knelt over your limp form, his cock still keeping his seed in you.

You didn't move, When he finally eased out of you gently, you winced and cried out at the loss.

"I know, I know." He said softly, petting your hair.

He grabbed a cloth and wiped at your cunt, getting most of the mess cleaned up. When he decided that was good, he eased your hips down and turned you over.

You wriggled into a comfortable position, tucking your hair behind your ear and smiling up at him shyly.

He smiled at you again, the same one he'd given you at dinner. His normally cold eyes looked warm and safe.

You slipped your hands up around his neck, your eyes falling down to his lips under his scruffy beard.

He ran the rough pad of his thumb over your cheekbone,

"Such a good little whore." He said softly, then he leaned down and kissed you.

His lips weren't pressed against yours for that long but it still sparked electricity through you.

He pulled away and breathed out a laugh, "Alright, let's try an' get some sleep now."

"Yes sir." You said softly.

He put out the fire and the lantern and stripped off his pants before getting under the covers with you. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him, his softening cock pressing against your ass.

He buried his nose in your hair, each hand covering your tits, keeping them warm.

You nuzzled into his hold, you couldn't remember the last time you'd been held like this. You turned around and buried your face in his hairy chest. 

You had…liked that. You really liked it. You knew how wrong this all was. You knew that to him you were just a whore, his property, but…maybe you could make peace with that? Maybe Joel Miller would be a good owner.

You hated that you were even thinking that.

His large hand rested on your back, holding you close to him as your exhausted mind finally succumbed to sleep.

-

THANK YOU FOR READING I LOVE YOU

This is my first Joel fic AND my first dead dove fic which I didn’t think I’d be able to write but I had sm fun writing this!! Thank you to @toxicanonymity and @romana-after-dark and all the girlies with their scary Joels who inspired me🖤

YEEHAW LETS RIDE🐎🐎🐎

[casscainmainly]

Race and Perception in Batgirl (2000)

This is a companion piece to my two gender posts on Batgirl (2000). There are many interesting takes on race and Cassandra Cain, but most focus on whether she is a 'racist' character or not. This post is not about that, though I think my stance is fairly clear given what my blog is about. Rather than retreading the same ground of whether the conception of Cass is racist (something I might tackle later, because some arguments are flat-out wrong), I want to look at how race actually plays out in Batgirl (2000).

This post focuses on how Cass' Asian identity influences her views on perception, beauty, and agency. As usual, feel free to disagree as I'm not an ethnic or Asian studies expert.

Mask of the Batgirl

We all know and love Cass' iconic Batgirl costume. Besides its distinctive total-blackness, the most interesting aspect is the full-face mask. She is the only Batgirl to cover her face completely - when Stephanie takes over, one of the first things she does is rip the bottom half off.

Skin and external perceptions don't mean the same things to Barbara and Steph as they do to Cass. Cass' entire life is fraught with not just the male gaze, but the White male gaze - her father, David Cain, films her on video tapes, and Bruce later views these tapes (importantly, Cass herself does not get to). These tapes symbolise how her appearance does not belong to herself, but to external White perceptions.

In issue #1, Batman says the following:

"You... are me." Here, Bruce posits that the full-face mask makes Cass more like Bruce. It functions to hide their racial and gendered differences. By covering her face completely, Bruce (and Cass) tacitly suppress her race. Once again, White men are controlling the way she is perceived, something that began with David Cain and continues with Bruce.

Interiority and Exteriority

A common Asian stereotype is that Asians are mechanical - they have no interiority. The common conceptions of Asians as STEM majors and being emotion-deficient all come from this core belief, that Asians are utilities for White people. For Cass, this belief manifests from Babs, Bruce, and David Cain:

Babs says it's hard to care without knowing what's "going on in her head." She cannot connect with Cass' exterior, and finds it hard to imagine what her interior is like. Even worse, Bruce and Cain both argue that Cass belongs to/is like them, almost treating her as property- they reject Cass' own interiority and project theirs onto her, using her as a tool to extend their own identities.

In the early issues, Cass doesn't have an internal monologue. This somewhat reinforces what Babs, Bruce, and Cain all believe about her interiority. However, in issue #5 a White man gifts her the ability to think in language:

This plot point serves to demonstrate Cass' interiority to the reader, but it is another example of a White person choosing for Cass. She didn't get a choice to be raised without language, and she doesn't make the decision to receive it. Both externally and internally, White people control her narrative.

The Shiva Solution

After her newfound language skills impact her ability to fight, Cass encounters Lady Shiva, her future surprise mother. Shiva is the first one to ever acknowledge Cass' race.

Unlike Cain or Bruce, Shiva doesn't say 'you're like me'; she says, "we're a lot alike." She doesn't map herself onto Cass, but finds something they both have in common. By naming Cass' race ("in terms of our coloring") and framing their similarities in this way, Shiva affirms Cass' difference from White people, while providing an alternative solace: Asian solidarity.

Shiva gives Cass her first real choice. It's not exactly a good choice, and it's somewhat coloured by White perceptions (the idea of 'perfection'), but it's still the first major thing Cass gets to decide for herself. She even frames Shiva's path as opposing "Batman's method;" it's the beginning of her path away from White control, towards racialised agency.

It's no surprise, then, that Shiva is the one that helps Cass over her death wish. Not Bruce, not Babs, but Shiva - a literal and metaphorical link to her heritage.

Another Stephanie Brown Segment

As an integral part of Cass' sexual and gendered awakening, Stephanie of course plays a role in Cass' understanding of race. Moving from Puckett's run into issue #38, Stephanie and Cass have this iconic conversation on the rooftop:

I've written before about how this marks the beginning of Cass' foray into gender and sexuality, but this scene has a different meaning when viewed from a race angle. Stephanie is the quintessential American girl, with blonde hair and blue eyes; additionally, she's sexually and romantically experienced. Cass' own Asian appearance, then, may be causally linked to her lack of experience.

When Stephanie comes back as Robin, we have this moment:

Cass is unable to be perceived as non-threatening, helpful, or friendly, while Steph achieves all this with ease. Beyond the differences in temperament (Cass is definitely the spooky scary type), it's also the difference in costuming - Robin's bright colours and majority-unmasked face make for a friendlier appearance than Batgirl. Once again, Cass is unable to control other people's perceptions of her.

It's notable that the majority of Steph's appearances throughout Batgirl end with her leaving Cass on a rooftop. This happens in issues #38, #53, #54, and of course War Games. Their relationship is consistently tenuous, and I think this contributes to Cass feeling like she'll never belong in Steph's world.

Tai'Darshan Turns the Tide

At this point Cass is in pretty bad straits: no one has ever shown romantic attraction to her, Steph is mad at her, and she still doesn't have a full understanding of her race (bar Shiva, she's encountered no other Asians). This feeling of disenfranchisement from both the White and Asian worlds is a very common experience among third culture Asian kids, particularly mixed-race Asians.

Then comes Tai'Darshan, the second major Asian person Cass interacts with.

He is the first person to show romantic interest in her, and asks to "see [her] face." He wants to see her interiority and her skin - Cass' Asian features are now described as something attractive, something worth seeing.

Where Cass is creeped out by Conner's gaze on the boat, she's not similarly affected by Tai'Darshan. She's beginning to understand racialised dynamics, and finding comfort within other Asians rather than her majority-White friends and family.

Both during the fight with Tai'Darshan and the later fight with Bruce, Cass wears these eye-cut-out masks. The eyes are both the site of perception and the site of Asian racialisation, as the most identifiably 'Asian' part of people's faces. By wearing these kind of masks, she's allowing others to perceive her race, reclaiming racialised perception as an act of choice rather than something imposed onto her.

Choosing

In the final arc of Batgirl (2000), Cass sets out to find Shiva. The decision is spurred by this conversation, where Brenda explicitly asks about Cass' race. Everything has been building up to this acknowledgment of Cass' fuzzy origins, a recognition that the uncertainty around her race impacts her ability to achieve full self-actualisation.

Cass rejects Batman's help on the matter, instead going to Onyx:

By going with Onyx, a Black woman, instead of Bruce, Cass is starting on her journey towards racial solidarity beyond Asian communities.

The abrupt ending to Batgirl (2000) kinda cuts off any definitive arc, but I actually think what we have already paints a solid picture. There definitely is a lot more room for explorations into Chinese culture (Spirit World kinda covers this), Cass' relationship to White proximity, interactions with other Asian characters and more. I think her Asian identity deserves more of a spotlight, and I'm hoping more comics in the future delve into it.

[worldofkuro]

Painted Smile

Painted Smile XVI

<- Previous Chapter I Next Chapter ->

Summary: You couldn't wait to meet new friends. What you didn't expect was this smiling little boy, only one year older than you, that would take such a big place in your life.

Notes: Well, well. This chapter might be difficult to answer, so don't hesitate to ask question, unless they spoil the story, I'll answer them. Hope you enjoy what is coming next.

The next morning,you were walking with Alastor into the woods you have grown to know like the back of your hand.You had to insist for Alastor to bring you with him. He wanted you to stay with Alice but you were having none of it. You didn’t really know what just happened at Alice’s, you were feeling exhausted and a bit scared.

“ So, you couldn’t hear me or Alice, and then you heard footsteps and the noise of a shovel digging into the ground?” asked Alastor, keeping his rifle in his left hand, the other keeping yours. 

“ Yes… Do you think I’m crazy? Maybe I fainted for a moment..?” you turned your eyes toward Alastor, wishing to be reassured. You almost thought you would see him looking at you with pity but he just squeezed your hand tighter, never stopping smiling.

“ No, dear. We can’t be both crazy, this town wouldn’t survive it. No, no, I’ll look into it, okay?” he smiled at you with a soft gaze. He kissed the back of your hand. “ Don’t think you can run away by pretending to be crazy, dearest.”

You smiled at him before stopping abruptly. There were footsteps on the ground, and from how deep into the mud there were, you knew the person was probably running.  You let go of Alastor’s hand, the both of you investigating around. You were looking at the floor and crouched, frowning. What was it…? They were tiny … was it..?

“ Dog’s paws..?” you  tilted your head. It clearly looked like a dog's paws. You called out to Alastor whose smile turned into a grimace.

“ They really brought the mutts out.” he sighed before looking around. 

“ You don’t think it could be an unlucky hunter, right?”

“ Unfortunately, no. This part of the forest belongs to my family, which means, if they took that path down the forest, they came from my house, which is illegal. So it can’t be a hunter, but policemen use dogs  don’t they?…”

“Yes, but they can’t just enter someone's property like that. My father would never.” 

Alastor’s smile widened as he tapped his chin with his finger. He seemed to enjoy himself.

“ Let’s follow the trail, we’ll make a conclusion when we see where it ends.” 

You walked, trying to ignore your growing headache.  You sighed in relief when you felt Alastor’s hand on your waist. You both stopped when you reached the place where you’ve killed for the first time.  You looked at Alastor as he gently tugged you toward a big tree and just as you expected, it seemed like someone had tried to dig up a hole.

“ Mhn… They didn’t dig up deep enough.” said Alastor with a mocking tone. He walked around the hole before pointing his gun toward a noise. You smiled when you saw a deer, staring at Alastor then near his feet. You began to walk toward him but Alastor stopped you with his hand. “ Don’t come any closer, there is a bear trap.”

You choked on your own saliva when you saw a bear trap, hidden by leaves, centimeters away from Alastor’s right foot. If he had kept walking, he would have been stuck inside it. You stared at the deer, dumbfounded. Did the deer.. warned Alastor? Were you losing your mind?

The deer stared at Alastor before leaving in the forest.

“ Well… That was odd. But more importantly, a bear trap? Seems like someone really wants to catch us.” he laughed as he crouched in front of the trap. “ Did they not dig deep enough on purpose so we would lower our guard and get caught by the bear trap..?”

“ Do you think they are still here?” you looked around.

“ No, darling. The forest is noisy and I don’t feel eyes upon us. We’re clean, for now. But what is amazing is that.. You saw it coming.  You knew that someone was trying to dig up my father.”

Alastor walked toward you.

“ Darling, is there anything strange that happened to you during this week?”  You blinked at him. The strangest thing that had happened this week was seeing your best friend making a contract with your future husband to kill someone she was supposed to marry. “ No apparitions?”

“ Alastor, what in the sweet hell are you talking about?”

“ Well, I’m trying the soul bounding spell. It can take several months to be able to bound a soul to another one, and I was worried that maybe I did something wrong which could have.. made you have that vision.”

You smiled at him, before kissing his lips. You were curious about his voodoo’s spells, but it was an unknown world for you, you hoped one day Alastor would teach you.

“ No Alastor, I didn’t see anything worth mentioning. What should I be worried about?”

“ Nothing serious, if there is something anormal, you would feel it.” he touched your forehead with his own, staring into your eyes. “ So… Do you have an idea how to kill Alice’s future husband ?”

You laughed as you felt Alastar’s arms wrapped around you. You kissed him several times, savoring the moments.

“ Mhn.. What about this? This weekend, we will go to Alice’s cottage and spend the days together, just the two of us thinking about murder?” you teased him, sliding your hands on his torso as you bite your lips. “ You could show me some techniques…”

“ I could show you how to tie someone so they can’t escape.” he smirked as he loomed over you. “ But it is a great idea, darling.” he kissed you twice before walking toward the bear trap. “ Also, I’m taking this to your father.” you tilted your head. “ Of course, dear. Someone trespassed into my domain and even put on a weapon that almost wounded me! If this is a policeman who has done this, your father would know. “

“ But.. They would want to understand why it was near a hole, they are going to investigate the forest.”

“ I’ve never said I found it there, dear.” he smirked at you and you couldn’t help but laugh.” The only person who knows where we found the bear trap are you, my darling , myself and the one we want to catch. I’m just going to provoqued them a little bit.

You laughed as you went back home. Alastor had to go to work and you didn’t want to stay all alone at home. You took a bottle of wine and some pastries and went out. Maybe talking with Alice about everything that happens could be great. You were sure she had a ton of questions to ask you.

You stopped walking when you were in front of the park, you couldn’t help but look for your new friend. Well, he wasn’t a friend but maybe a confidant ? You smiled when you entered the park and saw the old man sitting on his usual bench. You sat next to him.

“ Hello sir.”

“ Hello little lady.” he smiled warmly at you.

You began to talk about your days, the man still listening to you quietly. You looked at him, trying to see if he had any signs of religion on him but you couldn’t find any.

“ Sir, you believe in… spirits?”

“ Yes, I do.”

“ I … I have some questions” you looked around, making sure nobody was listening, but no one was taking notice of you" “ I think I fainted and I might… have seen a scene that was happening somewhere else?”

“ Oh, it’s interesting. How did you feel?”

“ Tired. I had a headache all night until… recently.”

“ Did you talk about it with your husband ?” he asked, looking at the people walking in front of you.

“ Well, yes ! He was worried but it must be my imagination.” you laughed. You were sure about what happened.

“ Does that make it any less real?” he tilted his head, his gentle expression still there, with eyes so gentle and wise you wondered what kind of life he lived.

“ Well..” you groaned as you held your head, your headache was coming back full force. You closed your eyes, trying to contain the pain. Gosh, it was so painful.

“ Waking up might be painful this time, little lady, I apologize.”

You tried to open your mouth but you felt like something was tearing you apart from your own body. You could feel the tears from pain whelming up in your eyes. What was happening ?

“ Hey! Look at me !”

You opened your eyes, gasping for air and looked at the man who was shaking you by your shoulders. Did he think you were sleeping? God, your head was hurting so bad and now you could feel something sliding down your nose… you tried to focus your vision to see the man’s face, his voice was familiar.

“ John…?”

And that’s all you remember before your vision turned black.

You could hear people talking around you. They were so noisy… You couldn’t open your eyes or move your body. You felt so tired, even more than usual.

“ She was talking all alone while sleeping, sitting on a bench! I’m not lying, and then when I woke her up she had a nosebleed and her eyes seemed red– ”

“ Aah… Thank you, John. I’m going to stay with my daughter, we’ll meet after this okay. Thank you for contacting me.”

Why would your father meet with John? Even if you didn't tell him why you stopped being friends with him, you didn’t think John would still reach out to your father. You forced your eyes to open and you found yourself staring at a white ceiling. wait.. Were you in a hospital? You sat up slowly as your father ran at your side.

“ Slow and steady, sweetheart.” He put his hand on your back, helping you stay steady on the hospital’s bed. “ Alastor is on his way.”  you felt your body relax at the new. You looked at your father who was already giving you food, the one you made for Alice.

“ What happened ?”

“ You were talking to yourself like a madwoman. I had to shake you forcefully for you to wake up.” you looked at John. He was staring at you, seeming worried but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to be near him. “ Hah, being almost married seems to do wonders for you.”

“ Get out.

“ Is there something I should know about..?” asked your father, looking at the both of you.

“ Nothing worth mentioning.” you spat, glaring at John who seemed hurt by your reaction. Did he really think you were going to thank him because he.. did he even help you ? What happened to Legba? You groaned, your head was killing you.

“ Darling, I’m here.” Alastor walked past John, going straight to you, taking your hands between yours. You relaxed immediately, going into his arms. What was happening to you? 

“ You should take better care of your future wife. She is going insane, talking to herself on a bench.”

You felt Alastor’s body tense. His smile was still, as usual, as he turned his head toward John. It seemed like he didn’t even notice John when he entered your hospital’s room. You wanted to punch John in the face, who did he think he was? 

“ From what I have seen, my fiancée is feeling bad when you are around, should I get rid of you?” he smiled with a beaming expression making your father chuckle.

“ The day I see Alastor being violent, is the day I stop working!” he laughed before standing up. “ But John, boy, let’s talk outside.” your father said with a cold expression. You smirked, your father hated when you were being disrespected. You watched as the two men left your room before feeling Alastor’s hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at him.

“ Darling, what happened ? Talking alone?”

You shook your head slowly, caressing his cheeks.

“ No, I was with a new acquaintance of mine. I think you should meet, he is very interesting, he is very old though…But then my head started hurting so bad I had to close my eyes and hold my face to calm myself. He must have see me when I was trying to smooth the pain.”

“ Yes, darling, I’ll meet everyone you want.” he sighed while stroking your hair. “ What is the name of the gentleman who stole my darling’s attention?” he teased you as you stuck your tongue at him.

“ Legba.”

You felt Alastor's body freezed, the temperature dropping. You blinked at him, looking at his frozen smile as he stared at you without showing anything.

“ Do you know him..?” you asked. Maybe they have already met but couldn’t get along? 

“ I… I know his name, yes. What do you talk about with him?” he sat next to you, his expression back to usual.

“ I’m the one mostly talking. And we share food! Now that I think about it, I didn’t have the time to give him something to eat today…” you gasped as Alastor helped you stand up. He smiled at you.

“ Let’s see if he is still where you left him! I really want to meet him."He kissed your cheeks before taking your things. You nodded, you didn’t want to stay here any longer. You both left your room, never meeting your father or John. You brought Alastor to the park, hoping to see the old man. You hoped John hadn't been too rude to Legba.

You smiled, feeling relieved as you saw him sitting in his usual spot. 

“ It’s him, do you see him, Alastor?” you walked toward the old man who lifted his head up once you were close. “ Well, hello once again.”

You sat next to him, Alastor sitting next to you silently. How weird, most of the time he would try to make himself see. 

“ You are back early, are you alright now?”

“ I’m doing great, thank you. I hope the man that bothered us wasn’t too rude to you.” you relaxed when you saw him shake his head. “ I came back because I realized I didn’t give you anything to eat and I wanted you to meet my future husband, Alastor!” 

You saw the man’s smile widened as he looked at Alastor.

“ Aah, the famous Alastor… “ you smiled before giving the man a pastry. You didn’t know why you felt like you had to give him something in return for his presence…” Seems like you won’t be left in the dark anymore.”

“ What do you mean?”

“ You didn't want me to meet Alastor in particular, it’s Alastor who wanted to meet me, right?” you nodded, but was the difference so important? “ You shouldn’t stay out too long, night is coming soon, I will have to go back.”

You looked at the darkening sky. How long were you out? How long did you stay in the hospital? You nodded at the old man, feeling better. You stood up, stretching your body.

“ See you soon, then.”

“ See you again, little lady.” said Leba as he stood up and walked away with his cane.

 You turned your head toward Alastor, who was staring at you, his smile twitching, his feet tapping the floor nervously.

“ Why didn’t you speak to him? Didn’t you want to meet him?” you crossed your arms on your chest, raising an eyebrows.

“ I’m.. going to explain everything as soon as we get home.” he took your hands and made you walk quickly toward his home. When you entered Marie’s home, it was already dark. You didn’t have the time to say hi to his mother, Alastor was dragging you into his bedroom. He was being so weird.

“ Alright darling. When did you meet this man?”

“ What are you playing at?” you asked, sitting on his bed.

“ Please, answer me.”

“ It hasn't even been a week yet.”

“ What does he look like?”

“ You saw him! He was sitting next to me!” you threw your arms in the air, feeling agitated. Why Alastor seemed to be excited and worried.

“ No, darling, you were sitting alone.”

…

“ Alastor,” you laughed nervously. “ you saw me.. I was talking with him..”

He approached you and kneeled in front of you, taking your hands in his.

“ You sat on the bench and then closed your eyes. It seemed like you were asleep to me but you were whispering some sentences, I couldn’t hear everything unfortunately.”

You paled. What was going on? What was he talking about? Were you crazy? Would you be thrown in an asylum and die there?

“ Darling, keep your eyes on me. It’s… It’s my fault I think.” he bit his lips while staring at you, you weren’t aware you were clawing at his hands, shaking. “ I told you I was practicing for our bounding soul spell, right?” he waited for you to nob before continuing. “ To be able to perform spells, you need one spirit in particular. His name is Papa Legba, but he never showed himself to me.”

“ Alastor… What are you trying to tell me..?” your voice was shaking, you didn’t understand a word he was saying.

“ Papa Legba is the guardian of the crossroads, he embodies the communication and access to the spirit world. Darling, it’s… it’s very amazing for such a spirit to be near you but also dangerous. You aren’t the type to just give food to someone you don’t know, yet you did it, you know why?”

“ I don’t know.. I just felt like it, as a thank you for his presence.”

“ That’s what we call an offering. But you need strong sacrifices for those spirits to stay and give you what you asked. I don’t think you asked him anything, did you..?”

“ I ask for his advice..” you whispered, trying to understand everything Alastor was saying. You wanted to know more about voodoo? Well, you didn’t expect to have that knowledge so fast in this situation.

“ I see.. From what I saw, when you talk with him, you go into a trance. When John woke you up by force, it broke your connections and I know for a fact that it can be very painful. Furthermore, you didn’t give him any sacrifices and nature always takes back what you didn’t give.”

“ So… Because I didn’t give him something in return for his presence, they took back..?”

“ Your energy.” he nodded, still caressing your hands who had stopped shaking.  “ But I don’t understand why he came to you and not me when I’m asking for him… I did find other ways with another spirit but still..”

“ When are you summoning him?”

“ When I come home, mostly when my mother is asleep.” he sighed, looking away, seeming in his thoughts. You tilted slightly your head, looking at Alastor.

“ I think…Maybe he doesn’t like being summoned at night? I.. He was the one who left today when he saw the sky getting darker, I would feel the need to go home when night time was coming and I was talking with him..”

“ Mhn.. Maybe we’ll try to summon him tomorrow with a good sacrifice. I’m working with another spirit right now but working with Papa Legba could be useful.”

“ Who are you working with?” you tilted your head, curiously, if Papa Legba was the spirit to make spells, who else could do it?

“ Some people say it’s his other side. The one who reigns on the night.” he sat next to you with a smirk. “ Names are important dear, we don’t call spirits just like this.'' He waited for you to nod before standing up. “Until I tell you otherwise, don’t speak, okay? Well, please, meet..” he stared at you, almost waiting for you to back down.

 You stood up, staring at him dead in the eyes. Universe could bring men, women, spirits, gods, you would follow Alastor in Hell. He smiled when he saw your expression.

 “Kalfu.��

You felt shivers as the room turned cold. You look around and put your hand on your mouth to muffle a scream that would have come out. Behind Alastor, his shadow was moving like it was its own person. You looked at Alastor and your eyes widened as you saw his eyes being red. He was staring at you, observing your reaction.

Alastor’s shadows moved on the walls curiously, looking at items, then he went toward you and you flinched when you felt its touch on your legs. It was.. a strange feeling.  It didn’t seem… bad. You approached your head toward its head and smiled softly as the shadows let itself be touched.

“ Of course, as I told you, there is a price.” you nodded as you looked at him. “ For this power, I need to kill Alice’s blackmailer. Before you stress out, no, the spirit doesn’t force me to do it. We just.. Think the same.” he smirked as he crossed his arms on his torso, its shadow nodding at Alastor’s side with a hideous big grin.

You nodded once more, observing him. His eyes were red but beautiful. You walked slowly toward him, raising your hand toward his cheek before kissing him. You felt Alastor’s body relax as he wrapped his arms around you, pressing you against his torso. 

You leaned back to watch his eyes that were slowly but surely taking their natural color back. The room wasn’t as dark as a moment ago.

“ You can talk my dear.”

“ I need to sleep.. “ you closed your eyes, feeling exhausted. You fell asleep as soon as your head hitted the pillows, Alastor didn’t even try to stop you from changing into your night clothes.

You woke up the next day, with Alastor arms wrapped around you. You smiled softly as you felt his breath on your neck, his torso against your back.  You sat up, slowly, trying not to wake up Alastor.

You walked toward the mirror, looking at yourself.

What the fuck happened yesterday?

You were having a powerful spirit by your side, you didn’t know why, he would eat your energy if you didn’t give him anything to.. eat? You sighed, trying to clear your thoughts. But, right now you needed to have answers…

“ Papa Legba.” you whispered.

“ Yes, little girl?”

You almost punched the mirror as you saw your reflection bending and twisting into unusual angles before taking the form of the old man you used to know.

“ Seems like you are no longer in the dark.”

“ I.. I still feel lost.”

“ No wonder you asked for me, I’m used to taking care of lost souls.”

“ Why … Why did you appear by my side when I never once tried to summon you? I didn’t even know you existed.”

“ Well, this is Alastor’s fault. When he tried to summon me the first time, he had a tissue tainted with your blood. I think he wanted to make a soul bounding spell, but he is still experimenting. He should ask advice from his mother.”

“ You.. You worked with Marie?”

“ Alastor’s mother asked spirits' help to protect Alastor from danger. She mostly worked with Gran Bwa. But you’ve seen him already.” you shook your head. “ The deer that warned Alastor about the bear trap.” your eyes were wide open. “ And many other times, his mother did a lot to protect him. Do you really think he would have made it to your home with you that time you almost drowned? I was the one who showed him the way to the cottage, if not, you both would have been dead because of the cold.”

Marie was working with spirits… Well, you weren’t that surprised, if Alastor was working with them, it meant that he had it in his blood but… But what were you doing here?

“ So, because Alastor has my blood on a tissue, you went… to meet me?”

“ It’s more complicated than that.”

You nodded without being sure of understanding anything that was happening.

“ Are… Are you a good spirit?” you looked at him as he laughed, taping his cane against the mirror.

“ Well, I try to be. I can help you work with good spirits, those who want to do good in the world.” he nodded. You bit your lips and then opened your mouth.

“ Alastor is working with a spirit… Is he a bad one?”

“ Mhn… Alastor is working with him, hn? Kalfu controls the evil forces of the spirit world. He allows the crossing of bad luck, deliberate destruction, misfortune, injustice.  I control the positive spirits of the day; Kalfu controls the malevolent spirits of the night.”

“ Is he in danger?” you asked, your voice a mere whisper. 

“ No, Alastor and Kalfu will enjoy each other's company I think, keeping themselves on their toes.”

“ And I? Where do I stand here?”

“ Well, because or thanks to Alastor, your blood and your soul is being changed by him. Which, for now, makes you capable of talking to me. Even working with me, you accepted that vision almost perfectly.” 

So it was Papa Legba’s power that time? You tilted your head, making the old man follow your movement in the mirror.

“ Do you think I could… work with you to protect Alastor..? From what I understand, bad spirits aren’t there to protect but kill or harm. If Alastor is bound with them, can I help him by … I still don’t know how it works but, can I help him in any way?”

“ Mhn, little lady. You are an odd one. Your blood wasn’t made to work with Voodoo, but you have potential. You are connected to the energy on earth, and sensitive to the spirit world, if not you wouldn’t have been able to talk to me all that time. It would be a pleasure to work with you, but do you understand what it means?” you shook your head, feeling your body tense itself. “ That means Kalfu will want to work with you. Just like I would have wanted to work with Alastor. If you were to work with my.. twin, I would stop our deal.”

You nodded before pausing.

“ Won’t they be angry that I work with you? Won’t they try to separate us?”

“ Oh no, little lady. Not a chance, because for us, like for them, your duo is unusual. We wouldn’t want to destroy that, au contraire.” You nodded, feeling better but also you could sense Papa Legba presence having more pressure on you.

“ What.. What should I bring you, as a sacrifice ?”

“ Rooster.”  he smiled warmly at you. “ But for this time, I shall accept something sweet.”

“ Okay… One last thing, what is it going to be like working with you?”

“ I can call another spirit's power to help you, but depending on the power, the offering will get bigger and bigger. But for now, we’ll work slowly together, if that’s what you want.” he smiled when you nodded, sure of yourself. “ Now, I think most of the power I’m going to use with you will be through your eyes. But we’ll talk about it later, I’m getting really hungry.” You went downstairs without making a noise, you felt like you were half asleep. You took a piece of Marie’s cake before walking back toward Alastor’s bedroom. 

“ Oh, I recognize Marie’s cooking.” he laughed when you put the plate on a table, in front of the mirror. “ You should talk with Marie about all of this, the both of you.” Papa Legba said before disappearing from the mirror. You turned around and saw Alastor behind you, his eyes red, staring at the mirror.

“ Well, well, well.. Do my eyes deceive me ?”

“ What are you talking about?”

He smiled at you before hugging you from behind, nuzzling his head against your neck, staring at the mirror.

“ Red is really our color, right?”

You looked back at the mirror and two red eyes were staring back at you. 

Your eyes were red.

Just like Alastor.

As both of your eyes started to turn at their usual color you couldn’t help but sigh, you needed to have a discussion with Marie.

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[megamindsecretlair]

The King and I, Part 1

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. This is more background than anything, so mentions of violence, violence against women, brief mentions of rape, torture, murder, slave trade, and suicidal ideation. Hopefully this will be 3 parts, will lead to smut! Ya heathens, I know what you here for LOL. And you all deserve forehead kisses.

Summary: Raised to be perfect, your father has had it with your disobedience. He marches you to the palace and throws you at the King's feet. You'd rather die than be another person's property. But the King surprises you in many ways.

Word Count: 3,533k

A/N: Couldn't get this idea out of my brain and it definitely doesn't follow the canon in the movie. AH well, LOL. I love it and that's all that matters. Hopefully, my brain continues to cooperate. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion

Before you had a chance to be a little girl, you were coveted for your looks. How pretty you were. How nice your hair was. Paraded out in front of many odd, adult people who looked at you with strange things in their eyes. Things you were too young to understand.

As you got older, it only got worse. You were expected to sit there like a doll and let people talk over you or around you, as if you were no more than grass beneath their feet. Wind in their hair. Something always there and easily ignored.

So you made the decision to be seen. You gave opinions when they weren’t wanted. You stayed in other people’s business. You resisted and rebelled. It was nice while it lasted.

Your father made sure to curb you of such habits. But somehow, the punishments never took like they were supposed to. You continued to speak. To use the gifts the gods gave you. If they did not want you to speak, they should have taken your tongue.

At his end, your father gave up his pursuit of a wealthy match for you. “If you will not listen to me, I will give you to someone you have no choice but to obey!” Spittle flew from your father’s mouth.

As you were marched to the palace, that was the one thing you focused on. Your father was a proud man. Perhaps you had gone a step too far if he was letting spit fly from his mouth with abandon. This was the least of your concern, true, but being cast off on the newly appointed King Ghezo was too big to face head on.

People in the village watched as you were marched there, your father’s grip on your arm near bruising. His thick fingers were wrapped around your upper arm. He set a brutal pace and walked forward whether you were able to keep up or not. You stared at the people. You made them look at you.

You didn’t expect them to do anything to help you. No one ever lifted a finger to help little girls. You were many years an adult by now, but to everyone, you were still so young. Young in the ways of the world. But growing up, weren’t you taught the ways of the world? 

The powerful were in charge with no one to challenge them otherwise. While everyone else was sheep, forced to do their bidding. 

Your feet tripped over rocks in the dirt road. Your father continued marching. The palace gates were not far now. Dread started to inch its way to your heart. You had never seen the King, but you heard how your parents whispered about him. How he was both similar and different from his father and brother.

His father had been a cruel man, living in ways that your people hadn’t lived before. Surely, his son would be no different. When you learned that you were going to be given to the new king, you pictured how ugly he must be. How cruel. 

Your father was handing you over like a piece of meat. Handing his daughter over as if he had no hand in birthing you, raising you, guiding, and protecting you. Now you were nothing to him. You looked at him as he jostled you down the street. His eyes were set forward, a frown on his face.

Did he not feel anything at all? All these years you had been in his care and there wasn’t an ounce of feeling in him.

“Did you ever love me?” You asked. You were out of breath and it was said softly. Perhaps he didn’t hear you. You hoped. You didn’t really want to hear his answer. Hear that despite everything else, he did not share that love for you as you did for him all these years.

“You are an insolent child. I will make more of you. I will instill in them obedience where you had none,” he spat. 

You refused to cry. You had an idea that he didn’t truly love you. Sometimes he’d look at you with such…hate. As if you were a stubborn stain he could not remove. You thought it was because of your looks. Because it was all anyone could talk about. But even when it was just you and your mother, he would still look at you as if he could cast you out with a single look.

At the palace gates, the guards halted your father. The red doors were large, stretching high above you. Anyone who went in, never came back out. You heard whispered words about why the King would need so many women. There was talk of him eating flesh. If he sold it, was there a big stretch to eating it? 

You’d die before you got eaten. As your father argued with the guards, telling how he had a disobedient child that the King could do whatever he wanted with, you made the second biggest decision of your life. You will die before harm befell you. In whatever form that was. 

If the King forced himself on you, you’d kill him and take yourself with him. If he tried to put you in a stew, you’d make him watch as you bled all over his fancy robes. The guards finally opened the gates enough for you to peek through.

Women were engaged in combat. Your mouth dropped open at how fierce they looked. You were not allowed to look upon the Agojie when they returned from their battles beyond the walls of the kingdom. But now you dared not to look away. 

Your father pushed you forward. One of the guards caught you and you turned your head to your father. This was the most satisfied you had ever seen him. He hoped that the King did something awful to you. He was counting on it.

You straightened up behind the walls of the palace. You looked your father in the eyes and you smiled. You spat on the ground at his feet, that smile still on your face. His smile faltered, rage contorting his features. You turned your back on him and walked into the lion’s lair.

The guards handed you off one by one until a young guard escorted you to the front of the palace. In the training yard, men and women walked around with heads held high. It had never been your intention to become Agojie, but perhaps the mad King will let you once he found out how unsuitable for a wife you were. 

The thought of killing anyone made you ill, but it would be better than to be bound to someone who could have you killed with one word. 

The guard took you to the door that led to the inner palace. An Agojie met you there, a tall woman with beautiful features and sharp nails. She looked you up and down and conversed with the guard. You didn’t pay attention. You were marching to your death, what did the particulars matter? 

The woman took possession of you, leading you into the inner palace where it was women only. Everywhere you looked, there were Dahomey women walking freely. They laughed! They trained, they ran, and hugged each other without abandon. There were a few women from other tribes there, but…this sight robbed you of clear thought.

“You will catch flies if you leave your mouth open like that,” the Agojie said. 

The Agojie stalked forward, a hand on the hilt of her weapon. You briefly wondered how you could steal one unnoticed. You searched around you. There were weapons everywhere but there were so many Agojie, you doubted you’d be able to capture one. 

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Nanisca,” the warrior said. “You’d do well to listen to whatever the King wants.” 

You didn’t need to be reminded of the King’s cruelty. It was all your father taunted you with for days as he made his decision to hand you over. You followed Nanisca to the palace proper. There, a man dressed in bright purple robes greeted you. He was bald with lots of jewelry hanging from his nose, ears, and around his neck. He looked you up and down and then rolled his eyes towards Nanisca.

“I suppose we will have this to look forward to from now on,” he said.

“As long as our King breathes air,” Nanisca said. She left you there with the man. 

“Come,” he said. You followed him, though dread made your steps wooden and your limbs frozen. You were too deep to escape now. But escape to where? Outside the kingdom, you ran the risk of slavers. Rapists. Murderous thugs who would know where you came from and kill you just for being born in the wrong tribe.

The palace was nice, almost peaceful. There was the clank of weapons outside. Grunts and sounds from the Agojie as they practiced. The palace was big but also felt empty. As if there weren’t a lot of people there.

The King must be fat then. Perhaps he ate all the servants and would-be brides. The bald man led you through to a chamber with many chairs. On a raised dais, there was a large throne and a smaller one beside. 

“Wait here,” the man said. He twirled and disappeared down the hall. You took a step forward, looking at the displayed riches and art work. If a king was cruel, did he know anything about art? Or beauty? 

“Is this necessary?” You heard mumbling and turned towards the door, ready to face the King head on. To see what kind of monster your parents have subjected you to. 

A young man walked in, with thick curled hair and light facial hair. He wore robes of gold, his robe split open revealing a well defined chest. He stood in the doorway and gazed at you as you did him.

He certainly didn’t look monstrous. You knew that evil things often came in the prettiest packages, but he was beautiful. Strong. Solid. 

He was still your new jailor, you mustn’t forget. So you stood there and looked him in the eye. You were not a victim and you will not be treated as such. 

“What is your name?” He asked. He pressed into the room further, looking you up and down with desire in his eyes. Your parents taught you well. How to spot it in others. 

You told him your name and he repeated it. As if to savor it around his tongue. He walked closer until he was within reach. Up close, he was even more handsome. You had to fight yourself from getting distracted by his looks. He was still cruel. You remembered all the horrible stories about his brother. He couldn’t be any different.

“So your father has given you away to me.” 

It wasn’t a question, but you answered anyway. “He has, my King,” you said.

“Do you wish to be given away?” He asked.

You gasped and looked at him. You looked to the bald man for help but he was turned away from the two of you. You looked back towards King Ghezo. It was the first time anyone had asked what you wished. For it to come from a king who should not care what you wanted…you weren’t sure what to do with the information.

“N-No,” you said.

King Ghezo nodded. “I wish I could make it easier for you. But you are too beautiful to be Agojie and if I turn you from this palace, you will have nowhere to go.” He reached for your hand and you snatched it from him. He smiled patiently as he held out his hand to you.

He was only pretending to be nice. A stupid, hopeful part of you had thought he wasn’t like the stories. He was worse. Still, he was correct. If he turned you away, you had nowhere to go. Once you had been here, everyone would assume the King used you and not deemed you worthy. Cast you out like a whore. You would be forced to sell your body. 

You took his hand. He gripped it lightly and smiled. He kissed the back of your hand. “Welcome, my Queen,” he said.

The next few days were a blur. King Ghezo’s first wife saw to your preparation for the wedding. The eunuch from earlier saw to your lessons, what was expected of you. No different than what your father had wanted from you. To be on your best behavior and only speak when spoken to. 

You hadn’t seen the King since then, but you caught glimpses every now and then. You were given your own quarters and servant, someone to tend to your needs. It was odd to have someone help bathe you, but the King preferred cleanliness to all else. He was vain on top of a liar.

The feast arrived in no time and you were painted up like a doll. At the wedding, you stood there as expected. If you had smiled any harder, it would have split your face in two. You had stood there like a goat on the pasture, ready to be bought and chopped up. King Ghezo studied you, encircled you, and found you acceptable. You had been tense, near trembling. You hated every second of it.

But now you are married. You sat beside King Ghezo at the high table, while he joked and laughed with his advisors. His other wife sat on your side, quiet and dull. You pitied her. The fight had left her long ago. You were still young. There was still time for you. While everyone smiled and laughed and enjoyed the feast, you hid a knife up your sleeve. It wasn’t that sharp, but it’d do the trick when the King tried to climb in your bed tonight.

You smiled in his face and feigned an innocent routine. You waited for the casual cruelty. When he would hiss for you to shut up, eat more, eat less, sit up straight. It never came. He only gave you brief glances, each always polite. A smile on those plump lips. You couldn’t shake your resolve though. Tonight, you’d be free. Whether free in death or free in life was entirely up to him. 

That night, you lay in your bed. There was a door there that led to a small balcony overlooking the rest of the kingdom. It was mostly the trees in the forest, but they were tall and mighty and more than the view you got back home. You did not spare your father a thought, but you thought of your mother. It had not been her choice to marry such a cruel man. 

It had not been your choice to marry a cruel man either. However, you felt as if you had a child, you would have moved the heavens and the earth to protect it. To not let what happened to you, happen to your own daughter. You supposed that dream was gone now. You’d either die tonight and never have a kid, or face the wrath of the kingdom and bear one without your permission. Somehow death seemed kinder. 

You did not want to die. But how could you live within these walls? With that monster? Admittedly, you did not hear any screams late in the night. His first wife seemed unbothered. Untouched. She had borne him his first son, so perhaps he left her alone. And perhaps goats flew over the moon. 

Men were only interested in one thing from a woman. And it was not her brain. 

A soft knock tore you from your musings. You tensed up, sliding your hand beneath your pillow to wrap around the handle of the knife. Maybe if you pretended to be sleep, he’d come back another night.

The door pushed open, soft feet padded inside, and the door closed again. You lay on your side, turned towards the open balcony. If you screamed, would no one come to your aid? 

“Are you awake?” King Ghezo’s soft voice reached you. You didn’t answer. Your breaths were stalled in your chest. Your hand cramped from holding the knife too hard. 

The King poked at your shoulder before making you roll over. “I know you are not…”

You sat up and had the knife at his throat in one fell swoop. The King’s eyes widened, but he looked at you, not the knife.

“Will you kill me, my Queen?” He asked. 

You pressed the knife into his skin, hard enough to know you meant business but careful not to break the skin. You were already committing treason, but somehow, it was important not to mar the king. 

He stared at you. Those deep brown eyes set in such a handsome face. You looked for the cruel man you heard about. Where was he? You could harm a cruel man. They deserved it tenfold. Why wasn’t he making this easy on you?

“I don’t want to,” you finally admitted. “I have to.”

“Why?” 

What did he mean, why? “Aren’t you angry?” 

“Angry at a scared woman who has no one on her side? No,” he said. He was so calm, so patient. This was at odds with everything you built up about him in your head.

“Don’t pity me,” you said. You pushed the knife in deeper. 

He leaned away and held his hands up. “I do not pity you. I will not pretend to know your life. But I can promise that you’re safe here,” he said.

You scoffed. “I’m not safe anywhere,” you said. You pressed your lips together. That hadn’t been what you meant to say. You meant to throw it back on him, that he could not promise safety when he dealt in the slave trade. When he looked at his people and only saw money from white devils. 

His eyes softened and he slowly smiled. “No man intact can enter this palace. Beyond that, we are protected by the fiercest warriors in the world. Beyond them, there is a first legion still to defend this palace from enemies. Here in the heart of it, you are the safest you’ve ever been.” 

“But who will keep me safe from you?” 

King Ghezo leaned forward, making you choose between cutting him or retreating. You eased up on the pressure. “You can do a finer job protecting yourself than most women can,” he said.

You stared at him. Your arm began to shake from holding the knife for so long. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t kill him. You were weak and would never be accepted as an Agojie. You would never fare well beyond these walls. 

You dropped the knife on the bed and held out your wrists. “I’m ready for my punishment, my King,” you said.

King Ghezo let out a long breath. You noticed now that he wore a deep, royal purple that highlighted his rich, dark skin. He wore minimal jewelry. He was just that magnificent on his own. Especially when the candle light flickered across his features.

“Punishment?” 

“I’ve threatened the King. I am ready for whatever punishment you hand out,” you said.

The King ignored the knife on the bed between you. It was within his right to take it and kill you. Or take it as evidence of your deceit. He could brand it for all to see as he threw you out of the palace. 

He did none of those things. He reached out his hand slowly and enclosed yours in his. You stared at your hands in comparison to his. He watched you as he brought your hands to his lips and placed a small kiss there.

“Plot how next you’ll kill me. If I have not convinced you of my intentions, of my character by then, you may carry through,” he said.

“What? No, no!” You said. You pulled your hands back but he held on. He pulled you closer until your hands were pressed against his warm, smooth chest. 

“Keep the knife, my Queen. This will be interesting between us,” he said.

This was surely a trap. A way for him to play and toy with you while he tightened the noose about your neck. Or gathered wood to burn you alive. Or for the Agojie to sharpen their swords to take your head with it.

“My King…”

“One day, I wish for you to call me your love,” he said. “But I will earn it or die trying.” A cocky grin spread across his face. It transformed him from a king to a man. A man who you were married to, sitting on your bed, with intentions involving you. 

He placed one more kiss on your hands and then retreated from the room. He never gave you his back, but he did smile and bow. Then he was gone from your room. A chill from outside caressed your bare skin and you shivered.

Was the king truly mad? Or were you? And why did he make you want to find out which?

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[justagalwhowrites]

Yearling - Ch. 40: Home

Jackson holds a celebration. The final chapter of Yearling found on Tumblr in its entirety here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut :) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only 

Length: 7.7k

A/N: We are through the spoiler-y portion now and you're all OK to read from here if you just want to see how the fic starts to come to a close. There is no more overlap with TLOU 2.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter

December, 2002 

“Is that pot?” 

Your oldest brother, Brendan, damn near jumped out of his skin, looking around frantically for a moment before his eyes settled on you and he calmed, his hand going to his chest. 

“Shit, bug,” he said. “Yell it, why don’t you.” 

“If I yell it, Mom’ll take it away,” you said, joining him at the fence on the edge of your father’s property, climbing up and perching next to him in the moonlight. “But that means I need motivation to keep my big mouth shut so you’d better fuckin’ share.” 

He scoffed but passed you the joint, anyway. You took it and breathed deep, pulling the smoke into your lungs and holding it there until the urge to cough was too strong and you gave into it, handing the joint back to your brother, clouding the winter air with a pot-scented haze. 

“Jesus, getting high with my baby sister,” he chuckled. “Never thought I’d see the day.” 

“It’s because you’re getting old,” you teased lightly. He smiled and shook his head, taking a hit before passing it back to you. You took a hit, too, a smaller one this time, trying to make smoke rings as you breathed it out. “So. How’ve you been?” 

“Good,” he nodded slowly, taking the joint back. “Thinkin’ about starting up my own ranch…” 

“No shit?” You asked, brows raised. He nodded. “Good for you. Think you’d be good at it. I do gotta ask though… This have anything to do with Amanda?” 

You teased out the last word and he laughed. 

“Was waitin’ for that,” he said. “Talked to Mom have you?” 

“Here and there,” you said. “You really ask for Gran’s ring?” 

“Jesus…” 

“C’mon,” you elbowed him. “You’re thinkin’ of marrying her?” 

“More than thinkin’,” he smiled a little. “If I’m marrying anyone, it’s her.” 

He took another hit and passed the joint back to you and you nodded, mulling that over in your head. Your brother, settled down enough to get married and start a ranch of his own. It seemed like a completely foreign concept but it was one you liked. 

“You’d like her,” he said after a few minutes. “Amanda, I mean. She might come to New Year’s, think you two would get on like a house on fire. She’s studying to be a vet, specializing in large animals. Only person I know who likes horses as much as you.” 

“Damn,” you said, taking a hit yourself. “She does sound great. Too good for you, that’s for damn sure…” 

He snorted. 

“Don’t I know it.” 

You passed him the joint again. 

“Can I ask you something?” You said after sitting in silence for a minute. 

“Shoot.” 

“How do you know?” You asked. 

He frowned. 

“Know what?” 

“Know that…” you sighed. “I don’t know, know that she’s the one? That you want to marry her and all that shit?” 

He smiled a little, nodding knowingly as he did. 

“Well,” he said. “Sounds dumb, but… when you know, you know.” 

“Jesus,” you rolled your eyes and he laughed. 

“I’m serious,” he said. “You’ll know. But… Well, she’s my favorite damn person. I don’t want to do anything without her if I can help it. I love everything about her, even the shit that drives me nuts. Mostly, though, I just want to live life with her, you know? Want to go grocery shopping and do dishes and fuckin’ mow the lawn… all that shit. It all sounds great because it’d be with her. That’s how you know.” 

You nodded slowly, trying to imagine feeling that way about anybody. It didn’t really seem possible.

“Don’t sweat it too much, bug,” he said, clapping you on the shoulder. “You got plenty of time before you need to worry about that shit. No need to rush into it. Just wait until the time is right and you’ve found the right person and then you’re good. It’ll all work out in the end.” 

He was right, you thought as you nodded again. You had all the time in the world but, eventually, you’d find someone you’d want to share it with. Even if that sounded insane now, you thought you would. You looked up at the cold, December sky, the universe stretched out before you and you took a deep satisfying breath. 

“Yeah,” you said. “I think it will.” 

***

July 20, 2029 

“Joel, where the hell is your wife?” 

Tommy and Joel both looked at each other before looking to Maria, confused. 

“Don’t think it was my turn to watch ‘er,” Joel said, setting his whiskey down. “Actually, think it was the exact opposite of my turn to watch her what with tradition and all…” 

“Well maybe it should have been because I can’t find her,” Maria said, clearly flustered. “I’ve checked your place, her old place, the room she was supposed to be getting ready in…” 

Joel smiled a little to himself, shaking his head and getting up from the table. There was one obvious place Maria hadn’t checked. 

“Maybe she’s gettin’ cold feet,” Tommy teased, smirking. “Lord knows she’s too smart for you, anyhow. Maybe she figured it out…” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Joel said, adjusting the collar on his shirt. He was in too good a mood to even give his brother shit back. “Don’t think it works that way if you’ve already been married a year and a half. Besides, I think I know where to find her…” 

“Just tell me,” Maria groaned, half-heartedly trying to stop him. “I’ll go. It’s bad luck for you to do it.” 

“Think we already had more than our share of that,” he said, giving her a wink. “Think we’ll be OK.” 

He left his brother’s kitchen and started toward the stables, walking in the opposite direction of most of the town, everyone making their way toward the gathering place in the middle. They gave him warm smiles and nods and congratulations as he passed and he smiled back, a little bubble of warmth in his chest that swelled as he made his way to you. Because while Maria might not know where you were, he sure did. 

He heard you before he saw you. 

“You’re doing good,” you said. “Try not to let your fingers get ahead of where your mind is though, that’s where you’re stutterin’ a bit…” 

“Easy for you to say,” Joel almost heard Savvy’s eyes roll as she teased you. “You don’t have as many fingers to keep track of.” 

You barked a laugh at that as Joel came into the stable. You were perched on the wall of Perseus’ stall, Savvy and Ellie sitting on either side of you, the guitar he’d made for Savvy in her arms. She noticed him before you did, giving him a little smile. 

“Here,” she said, passing the guitar to you. “You should play something Dad likes since you’re getting married today and all.”

“Look at you, bein’ all sentimental,” you teased lightly back. But you took the guitar and drummed on it for a moment before settling on a song. “Alright, this is the first thing he ever played me. His version is better but this song always makes me think of him now.” 

Joel just leaned against the door, watching and listening as you played I’m On Fire, that warm glow in his chest somehow growing as you did, wondering if you could possibly be any more perfect. You were wrong about one thing, though. Your version was better.

It had taken you a while to pick up the guitar again. You’d been back more than two months when he came home from a short patrol to find you on the couch, the guitar he made you in your arms and a determined - if frustrated - look on your face. You glanced up at him when he came in before looking back at the instrument. 

“I’m tryin’ real hard not to throw this,” you said, arranging your intact hand on the neck of the guitar. “But it’s pissing me off.” 

“Think I’d rather you throw the pillow,” Joel said wryly, coming to sit beside you. You rolled your eyes. “Want to show me?” 

“Not really,” you said but you did anyway, starting to play the way you had for years and then seeming to forget that you had two fewer fingers, notes missing and fumbled and you shouted in frustration, almost throwing the guitar before clenching your jaw and moving to set it on the coffee table. Joel took it from you before you could, setting it on the other side of the couch before pulling you against him and kissing the top of your head. 

“You were sounding good there, baby,” he said, stroking your arm. You scoffed. “Mean it, you were.” 

“Yeah, I was playin’ a mess of bullshit there at the end,” you said. “Real good.” 

“It’s gonna take time, sweetheart,” he said gently. “You spent a long time playing the way you used to. Takes a while to adjust. You’ll get there…” 

“Because there are so many famous eight-fingered guitarists,” you muttered, your voice thick. 

“Sure, but you’re better than every guitarist I’ve ever heard of,” he said, tugging you closer. “You will get there, baby. If anyone can it’s you.” 

You sighed but snuggled into him and he hoped that you believed him. He wasn’t just saying it. Something inside him knew that you’d find a way to make music again the way you used to. 

He was right. It took a few weeks - a few weeks of almost perpetual frustration - but you got there. He watched it happen, the moment it seemed to click into place almost startling in its clarity. You were playing in the kitchen while he cooked, not really working on anything in particular, just seeing what sounds you could pull from your instrument and how you could make them work together in that way you had when, all of a sudden, you played a few notes in quick succession. Joel frowned to himself and glanced over his shoulder, hoping you weren’t paying attention to him. You weren’t. You were intently focused on the guitar, your hands frozen on it for a moment before you did it again, adding more chords this time. The next thing he knew, you were playing the riff from Layla, laughing as you did. 

“Joel!” You looked over to him after playing it a few times and he’d stopped pretending he wasn’t watching you, just leaning against the counter so you had the space to do what you needed to do. “Did you hear that?” 

“Yeah baby,” he smiled. “Sure did.” 

You made a giddy little noise and carefully arranged the guitar in your arms again before starting over. He had to practically pry the instrument away from you when dinner was done but you were beaming when he did, even though the place where you’d lost fingers was bleeding from the guitar strings. 

Joel made you something after that, a simple piece of leather that covered that sensitive place and looped down around your wrist. It seemed to work wonders for you, making it easier to play guitar and work with the horses and he let himself feel good about it. He’d done something for you that made your life here better. He could still take care of you, still give you what you needed. They hadn’t taken that, too. 

It still took a while for things to get back to normal. Or close to normal, anyway. After everything that had happened over the last two years, Joel didn’t think there was any real way to go back. You still woke up afraid some nights, his leg still bothered him more often than not. But there were good changes, too. Savvy had moved into the bedroom you’d set up for her, happy to have her mother to come home to again. Ellie came around all the time, often with her girlfriend in tow - something that had taken Joel by surprise but had settled into quickly. You’d even become more involved in Jackson, joining the council in the most recent election after Maria encouraged you to run. When the results had come in you sat there, wide eyed, for a moment before you got up and smiled and thanked people for voting for you. It was the shortest acceptance speech Jackson ever had. 

While he wouldn’t want to go back and relive the worst of those times, he was starting to think the heartache was there for a reason. It was to get you both here, to this place, building your family and community together. 

You finished the song and Ellie and Savvy clapped and you scoffed. 

“Sounded real good there, baby,” Joel said from his place by the door. You didn’t jump at the sound of his voice, instead just looking over your shoulder back to him. “Tryin’ to show me up?” 

“Nah,” you smiled, handing the guitar to Ellie and jumping down from your perch. “Never could with I’m On Fire. Other shit, though…” 

He laughed and shook his head a little as you walked over to him, a blissful smile on your face, and he gave himself a chance to really appreciate you in that moment. 

Joel always thought you were beautiful. You were beautiful when he’d first seen you in the forest years ago now, you were beautiful when you fell asleep against him when watching movies, you were beautiful when you came home covered in sweat and dirt and the smell of horse. But damn, were you ever beautiful here, like this. You were in a white eyelet lace dress that went down to your ankles, dropping low enough at the neck that the swell of your breasts were going to be a constant fucking temptation. Savvy had made you a crown of flowers that sat on your head and Joel’s old wedding band hung on a chain around your neck and your cowboy boots had been polished to shining and damn did he want to sweep you off your feet and carry you back home to hide you away from everyone else looking that good. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re the most beautiful woman on the damn planet?” He asked as you draped your arms around his neck and his hands found your waist. 

“You,” you smiled, your eyes crinkling at the edges with it. “From time to time.” 

“Should say it more then,” he smiled back. “Been slacking.” 

“You’re not supposed to see her, you know,” Ellie said, trying to sound stern but smiling a little instead. “Maria told me.” 

“Well someone decided to sneak away without tellin’ anyone where she was headed,” Joel teased lightly. 

You just smiled broader. 

“The important people knew where to find me,” you said. 

Joel looked between you and the daughters you shared. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Suppose we did.”

He took your hand and the four of you headed for the middle of town, Joel kissing you goodbye in a spot that was a little tucked away so not everyone would catch a glimpse of you. 

“You’re too damn pretty,” he smiled. “Don’t want to spoil it for everyone. See you up there?” 

You smiled back. 

“Try and stop me.” 

Joel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt quite so happy as when he watched you walk down the aisle toward him. The two of you said more traditional vows this time, Savvy and Maria by your side, Ellie and Tommy by his. There was something about making promises to you publicly, where everyone the two of you knew could see, that just felt right. You exchanged new rings this time, ones made of the antler of a moose Joel had felled a few months earlier, him slipping yours on your middle finger this time. When he kissed you, the rest of the town fell away and it was just you and him, the way it felt like it should be.

The whole town celebrated after, tables put out on the grass and lights hanging from the trees. Someone had rigged up a sound system and the children of Jackson chased each other, weaving in and out of tables shrieking and giggling as they went. You and Joel were sat at a head table with the girls, Tommy, Maria and William and Joel kept his hand on your knee all through dinner. 

To kick off the dancing, Joel tugged you onto the floor, your chin tucked into your chest, and swayed slowly to Hallelujah, so like you had the first time he danced with you, before everything had fallen into place this way. You smiled and pressed close to him, moving alongside him in front of everyone the two of you knew in the world and Joel was happy. 

Back at your table, he was just starting to think of a way to steal you back to the house when Ellie gave you a look, jerking her head off to the side. You gave his shoulder a squeeze and smiled, a little nervously. 

“See you in a second,” you said, before following Ellie, who was whispering conspiratorially with you. 

“What in the hell…” Joel frowned, watching you. 

“Just have to wait and see, Dad,” Savvy said, looking far too pleased with herself. 

He didn’t have to wait long. You and Ellie returned with your guitar and a boom box, Tommy setting up a chair for you in the middle of everything so everyone could see you before cutting the music. 

“Hey, everyone!” Tommy yelled, his hands cupped around his mouth like a megaphone. “Pay attention to my baby sister!” 

The whole of Jackson obeyed and Joel could tell that you were fighting the urge to just go and be next to him, far from the public eye. Instead, you stood next to Tommy, the guitar Joel made you dangling from your hand, Ellie standing nearby next to the boom box. 

“Thanks, everyone, for comin’ tonight,” you said, your accent thick like it was when you got nervous. Joel smiled a little, the sound of home coming from your lips. “Means a lot to us that you’re here and sharing this with us. It means a lot to me, especially. I know it took me some time to settle in here because I ain’t had somewhere to call home with anyone other than my daughter for a real long time. But here feels like home, and the way everyone here has welcomed us… it means everything to me. 

“Now, a lot of y’all may not know it but…” you took a deep breath and Joel could see you try to swallow your nerves. “I’m something of a musician. I don’t much like playing for anyone besides family but since I feel like y’all are family now, well… seemed only appropriate I play for everyone here tonight.” 

You sat down and rested the guitar on your lap. 

“Music’s always been the way I get my feelings out,” you said, now focused on Joel. His heart swelled. “I’ve never been great with words and I love you just doesn’t feel like enough when it comes to you, Joel. This ain’t much but… feels closer at least.” 

You gave Ellie a nod and she pressed play on the boom box and Joel had to fight to not tear up as you played, the song growing and swelling as it went on, the boom box adding in piano and violin. The music was beautiful and intimate and made Joel think of the quiet mornings he spent with you in his arms, trailing his fingers over your the curve of you, your breath warm on his skin, gently kissing his way over you before the world woke up and it was just you and him and the love you made together. He loved those mornings with you, he wanted countless more of them and he could practically see them now, laid out in front of him like the world at his feet.  

When the song ended, the whole of Jackson was silent, the only sound the rustle of the breeze on the trees. You tugged your lower lip between your teeth and, for half a second, looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you up. But then, all at once, everyone broke into applause, thunderous and adoring and you gave Joel a bashful look. Ellie took the boom box and your guitar to stash them away again as you made your way back to him, what seemed like everyone in town on their feet for you as you went. 

“Hope that wasn’t too embarrassing,” you said as Joel pulled you in close. 

“Baby, that was incredible,” he said, giving you a long, deep kiss. “I didn’t even know you’d been workin’ on the piano and the violin again!” 

“I know,” you smiled a little, pressing close and tight to him. “You’re a hard man to surprise. But once I figured out the guitar, I wanted to get those back, too. Tommy even helped me tune the piano at my old place.” 

Joel looked to his brother who gave him a small salute before he turned back to you. 

“You’re amazing,” he said, resisting the urge to take off with you then and there. You just rolled your eyes before he kissed you again and he tried to be content with just having his arm around you as everyone in town made their way up to congratulate the two of you. 

After what felt like a small eternity - and a few more dances with you - Tommy finally leaned over to whisper in Joel’s ear. 

“I’ll hold down the fort and make sure the girls are all good,” he said. “Get outta here before you lose your damn mind.” 

“Thanks, man,” Joel clapped him on the shoulder and Tommy just gave him a lopsided smile, one that Joel would would call paternal if it came from anyone else. He supposed it did from Tommy, too, now. It was still an odd thought, his brother finding his way to a wife and a place in the world before Joel had, that Joel was the one playing catch up and, in some ways, relying on his brother for help and guidance. But with you, it felt like he’d more than caught up. He’d come out ahead. 

“Hey,” Joel gave you a little squeeze and whispered in your ear. “What do you say we get outta here, Mrs. Miller?” 

“Really?” Your face lit up and Joel smiled and nodded. “Oh thank fuck, I don’t think I can talk to anyone who isn’t you or the girls again for a week…” 

He laughed a little, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“C’mon,” he said. “Let’s sneak out…” 

Joel took your elbow as you got up, the dance floor full as Tommy got to his feet, cupping his hands around his mouth like a megaphone again. 

“Ladies and gentleman!” He yelled. “For the last time tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Miller!”

Joel gave him a look and Tommy gave him a wink as everyone turned and clapped. You and Joel waved goodbye before he put his arm around your waist and pulled you tight against his side, leading you home. 

*** 

“Mrs. Miller,” Joel trailed his nose over your cheek, his words quiet in your ear. 

“Hm,” you grunted in response, eyes still closed. 

“C’mon,” he said softly, his hand smoothing over your stomach that was still covered by your wedding dress. “Gotta get up, we got places to be.” 

You opened a skeptical eye at that. The ceiling of your bedroom was painted orange by the sunrise and Joel was there, smiling down at you, his curls still a little unruly from where your fingers had wound in them the night before. 

“Where do we have to be?” You asked. “Pretty sure we get the day after our wedding off.”

“We do,” he said, his hand gliding over you, between your breasts in the low cut of your gown, over your chest to cup your cheek. “But still want to get an early start. Made you coffee, let’s go.” 

“Early start for what?” You asked, sitting up now. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled. “You’ll like it, promise. Think you can ride a horse in that pretty dress of yours?” 

You gave him an incredulous look. 

He laughed. 

“Fair enough. Then let’s get goin’.” 

“Do I need to pack a bag or anything?” You asked, trying not to groan as you got out of bed. 

“Already handled,” he said. “All I need is my beautiful wife to come along for the ride.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Think I can manage that.” 

You had coffee and slices of leftover wedding cake with Joel before walking with him, hand in hand, to the stables, the sound of Jackson just coming to life around you as you went. 

It felt a little silly to still be in your wedding dress but, you had to admit, it was a damn nice dress.

Staying in it the night before had been Joel’s idea. His lips had been working their way over your throat to your ear before he whispered to you there. 

“That dress of yours comfortable?” He asked, a little breathless. 

“Yeah,” you panted, pulling back just enough to frown at him. “Why?” 

“Because,” he said, taking a moment to nip at your lower lip. “Did things backwards our first wedding night, already had you naked when we said our vows. Kinda want to have you in the white dress, make a real pretty mess of you in it.” 

You smiled, reaching up and trailing your fingers through his hair. 

“Whatever you want, Mr. Miller.” 

He made you come four times in that dress the night before and you passed out in his arms before you could will yourself to move enough to take it off, too tired from the day of celebrations to bother changing once he was done with you. 

It had been Joel’s idea to have a wedding ceremony. He’d brought it up a few months before, once you’d fallen back into life in town again, things as normal as they could be now. You still sometimes felt the ache of fingers that were no longer yours, you still sometimes woke up afraid that your daughters were gone, but you’d healed, too. Your skin was no longer broken and raw, you could play the music you loved again, you could go down the hall and look in on Savvy when you woke up afraid she was gone. 

“We’re already married, Joel,” you laughed at him, your feet on his lap as you played guitar one night when Savvy was out with Kyle. Orion snuggled closer to your knee. “You forget that just because we don’t wear the rings anymore?” 

“Never forget that,” he smiled a crooked smile at you as he massaged the arch of your foot. “One of the best damn nights of my life. But… I think now’s a good time to celebrate that with our family. Girls weren’t there for it, neither was Tommy. Think it’d be nice to do it again with them.” 

You nodded slowly, mulling it over. It wasn’t a bad thought. You did want to share that with Savvy and Ellie, especially now that Savvy would actually be happy about it. And you knew that Joel had missed Tommy and Maria’s wedding, something he regretted now that he had a proper life here in Jackson. You understood why he’d want his brother there. You’d want your brothers there, too, if they were still alive. 

“Sure,” you said eventually. “Let’s do it. Have witnesses when you make promises to me this time around, really hold you to that shit…” 

He laughed at that. 

“Damn right, baby,” he said. “You can hold me to whatever you want.” 

Plans quickly grew, though, from just your family to family and friends to the whole of Jackson. Warren manipulated patrol schedules so there would be one afternoon that everyone was in town, damn near every chair and table that could be moved set up for the reception. It had become more than a celebration of you and Joel, changing into something celebrating the peace the city had known in the year since Mitchum’s downfall. 

The raider attacks became almost non-existent, patrols hunting down the smaller side groups and wiping them out quickly once Mitchum’s control fell away. After that, even the threat from infected lessened. With fewer people in the forests in the miles around Jackson, there was less reason for them to be there. Patrols had become quiet and mostly peaceful, the town no longer afraid of what they might lose every time the gates to the city opened. 

You were happy for the excuse for the focus to not be entirely on you all night, anyway. You’d never been comfortable being the center of attention and, while you liked having a chance to actually show how much your husband meant to you after years together, having that many eyes on you got old fast. Going home just you and Joel had been a relief. 

“Hey there love birds,” Olivia said when you got to the stable, two sets of reins in her hands. “Ready to get underway?” 

“Think so,” Joel said, taking the reins from her, Renaissance and Ares both packed like they were leaving for a long patrol. “Thanks for doin’ this.” 

“Hey, anything to get her to take a break,” she gave you a wink. “Lord knows she deserves it. Have fun you two.” 

“Joel,” you laughed, almost nervously, following alongside him as he led the horses to the gate. “Where are we going? What’s going on?” 

“You’ll see,” he smiled a little as you reached the gates, handing you Renaissance’s reins. “Just have to keep up.” 

You raised your brows at him and he laughed. 

“Alright, just have to let me lead for a change, how about that?” 

“That, I can do,” you smiled. 

It was an easy ride, you following where Joel led, smiling and laughing and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of the forest as you did. For a while, you so rarely left Jackson after Mitchum. No matter what Joel and Tommy and Maria and Julie said, it didn’t feel safe. The worst things that had ever happened to you had happened outside those walls, it just wasn’t worth the risk to leave. If you were inside, in the house you shared with Joel and Savvy or at the stables or the Tipsy Bison, everything would be OK. 

But you missed the outside, too. You missed how crisp the air was when you were outside, the sound of the animals in the wild, the way the world spread out in front of you vast and unclaimed. 

Joel, Ellie and Julie had been easing you back into it. Julie asked you for help collecting fruit for one of her cocktail plans one day. You’d been hesitant but she convinced you, your whole body stiff the entire two hours you were outside, hyperaware of everything around you. But because you were so aware, you noticed everything too, things you’d missed like the rustle of the grass and the way the air smelled. You were a little more willing to go then. 

Ellie told you she wanted to practice shooting as she got ready to go back out on patrol, taking some time off from it after everything that happened. She asked you when Joel was busy and Olivia was there to take over at the stables and you knew it was contrived but you went with her, anyway. She kept you talking, pointing out different birds and asking questions about things that you knew she knew the answer to but it did make you miss being out in the wild more. When you told her you knew better, Ellie kept pretending she had no idea what you were talking about. 

Joel, at least, hadn’t tried to couch it in anything. He’d been holding you one morning when neither of you had to be anywhere, his fingers trailing gently up and down your arm. 

“Been thinkin’,” he said quietly before pressing his lips to your forehead. “We should take the horses out, go on a short trail ride.” 

You frowned. 

“Why? They’ve been gettin’ plenty of exercise, don’t have any that need to be tested outside of town right now…” 

“Because you could use it,” he said. You stiffened but he kept tracing his fingers over you, up and down.

“Joel…” 

“You’ve been gettin’ out here and there,” he said gently. “And I know you miss it.” 

“I miss how it used to be,” you corrected him. “It’s different now.” 

“Don’t have to be,” he said. “Just come with me.” 

You sighed, but he kept going. 

“Just a few hours, not gonna take you far,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.” 

You pressed your lips together into a thin line, trying to calm your nerves as he pulled back to look at you, his eyes locked on yours. 

“Would I try to get you to do somethin’ that wasn’t safe?” He asked gently. You gave him a look and he smiled a little. “I’ve got you, baby. Just you and me where you can open the horses up and get back out in the trees a little. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ve got you. S’OK.” 

His eyes were so soft and his face was so open that you sighed and agreed. The first time had been scary. You only went for a few hours but you couldn’t relax the entire time you were gone, fully outside what felt like Jackson’s control for the first time since you’d come back. But Joel was right. He stuck close to you the entire time, always watching for any kind of threat, always ready to protect you. You made it back to Jackson in one piece, the only shots fired to take down a few stray infected ambling through the area. 

He gradually got you to leave the walls of the town more and more, even convincing you to bring Savvy and Ellie along one day, and you realized - as you sat on a picnic blanket with your husband and daughters - that the safety may not have been the walls of the city after all. It may have just been Joel. 

You felt comfortable now, outside Jackson with the man who had become your home, your safest place, your husband twice over. The trees were thinning, four hours into your ride and off the more beaten path. You looked at Joel, brows raised and he smiled. 

“That’s where we’re headed,” he said. “When we get to there, go ahead and open ‘er up, you’ll know where to go.” 

“So mysterious,” you teased and he shrugged, smirking a little, as you broke through the trees. 

The sight was almost damn near idyllic, a small lake that was clear as glass, a cabin with a big front porch complete with a swing sitting on the other side of it. You looked at Joel, mouth open in shock. 

“Me n’Tommy found it few months back,” he smiled. “Been fixin’ it up. Plenty of space for us, the girls, anyone they want to bring along. But… wanted to break it in right, just you and me. Besides, pretty sure I’ve owed you a honeymoon for a while now.” 

You laughed, almost giddy, and pushed Renaissance into a full gallop, skirting along the edge of the water, standing in the stirrups so the air sent the skirt of your dress billowing out behind you. You rode her up to the porch, slipping out of the saddle before she’d come to a full stop, too excited to get a look at the place. You realized there was a small dock just off the porch, a rowboat tied to the side of it, and wildflowers among the grass outside the cabin. 

“I do OK?” Joel asked, getting off Ares and coming up alongside you. 

“This is amazing,” you said, awed, as you took it all in. “I can’t believe you did all this, it’s…” 

You couldn’t find the words, just looking at him, a small smile on his lips. 

“C’mon,” he said, taking your hand and leading you up the front steps. He opened the front door but stopped you from going through it. “You gonna let me carry my wife across the threshold? Always wanted to do that with you in a wedding dress.” 

You laughed a little and draped your arms around his neck. 

“Think that can be arranged.” 

He bent and swept you off your feet and into his arms, making you laugh. 

“Then let’s go, Mrs. Miller.” 

He carried you through the front door and into the living room, some faded couches and mismatched arm chairs around a fireplace. Behind them was a table big enough to have the whole family gathered around it, a set of stairs beyond that and a kitchen off to the side. There was a bundle of wildflowers in a jar of water in the middle of the table, a shelf of board games and cards sitting next to the hearth. 

“Give me a few minutes to get the horses settled,” he said, setting you down and kissing your temple. “Then I’ll show you the best part of this place.” 

You took your time taking in the place, how much care you could tell Joel and Tommy had put into it. You could see places in the wall that had been patched, shelves that had been mounted. There were stores of canned foods in the cupboards, a canister of tea, a jar of honey, even a pair of matching mugs, both chipped with little owls on them that made you smile. In the living room, there was art on the walls: one of a horse grazing in an open field and another of a deer standing next to a moose in a clearing. You smiled, leaning in closer to see Ellie’s signature in the corner. 

“She wanted to contribute,” Joel said from behind you and you turned to face him. He set packs down on the couch and you smiled as he came to you, putting his arms around your waist and tugging you against him. He trailed his lips along your forehead, your temple, down toward your throat, his hands slipping up your sides to slide into the low neck of your dress, making you moan. 

“Want to see my favorite part about this place?” He asked, heat on his voice. You just nodded  and he pushed the top of the dress down, bearing your chest to him. “No one around for miles. All alone out here. So I can have you all to myself, naked, in that water out there.” 

He took the globes of your breasts in his large hands, cradling the weight of them gently in his palms, squeezing you and you groaned at his touch. He kissed you, dipping his tongue into your mouth and you pulled at the buttons of his shirt, opening them one by one. 

“Should get me naked then,” you said breathlessly when he pulled away from you ever so slightly. “That water looks awful inviting.” 

You undressed each other quickly then, Joel’s shirt and pants ending up in a heap on the floor, your dress draped over the couch. He took your hand and led you outside, pulling you along into the cool water. It was smooth and clear on your skin, the sandy bottom of the lake soft on your toes. He pulled you deeper, until the water was up to your shoulders, before tugging you against him. You smiled and he tilted your head so he could kiss you, his thumb over your cheek, fingers curving around the back of your neck. 

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you said quietly as he held you close. His thick, hard cock was pressed against your stomach, your breasts pressed against his wet skin. “You didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he smiled, his forehead against yours. “I want to give you everything, baby.” 

You reached and put your arms around his neck, arching your back against him. 

“You already have,” you said softly. “You gave me you.” 

His hands drifted lower, cupping the round of your ass and lifting you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. His cock was pressed against your slit and you moaned at the feel of it, the way the water and the tip of him moved against your clit already making your pussy tighten. He lifted you, dragging the thick of his length over your sex until he notched his head at your entrance and he moaned. 

“Goddamn baby,” he said, voice tense with want. “Can feel how warm you are inside already…” 

He pulled you down onto him, his cock pressing into you slowly, slow enough that you could feel how he opened you to him, stretching you around him. You groaned, burying your face in his neck and breathing in the smell of him. 

“Fuck you feel good,” his mouth trailed over your neck, your bare shoulder. “So goddamn good, taking me so well…” 

Your fingers sank into his skin and you pressed yourself impossibly closer and tighter to him as he bottomed out inside you, your clit pressed against the base of his stomach, the whole of him thick and heavy inside you. 

“Joel,” you whimpered. “You’re so deep, feel so good…” 

“I know, sweetheart,” he breathed, taking his hands from your ass to your back to clutch you close. “I know.” 

He held you close and tight and you managed to pull your face from his neck to look at him, your eyes on his, noses brushing, breathing into each other as the water cradled you both. You moved together, every rock of your hips and thrust of his slow and aching. You weren’t able to tell where he ended and you began and you could feel his breath quickening as the heat inside you grew stronger, your channel getting tighter. 

“Want you to come for me,” he whispered, voice trembling. “Need to feel you, come on baby and come for me.” 

You could only moan in response, his thrusts growing firmer as you pressed your clit against his skin, his arms tightening around you. You were right on the edge, so close exploding around him. 

“Come with me,” you managed, clinging to him. “Please, I need to make you come, please…” 

He cut you off with a kiss, swallowing your needy sounds, moving in you desperate and claiming. Your orgasm built higher and higher, drawing you so tight around him it seemed impossible until he pulled you so close it almost hurt, body flush to his as you felt him come undone inside of you. 

It only took a moment for the pulsing of his cock to set off your own orgasm, making you throb and flutter around him as rope after rope of his come filled you. For a moment, it was as though you and Joel were the only people left in the world, the way he was around and inside you the only thing you could be sure of then. 

He held you after both your orgasms eased, his softening length still inside you, your head on his shoulder, your arms around him as his lips brushed your neck. The water was still and quiet around you, a soft breeze on the air and you smiled against his skin, a sense of peace settling over you as you did. 

It had taken so long to reach this point, so many years of pain and healing, so much you needed to move past. But it had all led you here, where you were together, where everyone you loved was safe and happy and you didn’t need to be afraid anymore. 

Joel’s hand trailed slowly up and down your spine and he pressed a kiss into your skin. 

“I’m so happy we got here,” you said quietly. 

You felt him smile against your shoulder. 

“Me too, Bambi,” he said, kissing you again before pulling back from him just enough to look you in the eye. “Come a long way in the last few years.” 

You smiled a little. 

“Hard to believe,” you said. “I didn’t think I’d ever have something like this. I didn’t know it was possible to have something like this.” 

“Me, too,” he said. “Makes it feel like all the shit we went through to get here was worth it.” 

“Yeah,” you said, kissing him gently. “It does.” 

You looked in his eyes, just appreciating him for a moment, the tan of his skin and the gray of his hair and the wrinkles and the scars that told the story of everything that he’d survived and felt deeply that he was one of the most beautiful things you’d ever held. 

“So,” he said after a few minutes. “Since this is a honeymoon and all, we got the place to ourselves for as long as we want it but figure we’ll want to get back to the girls before too long. What are you thinkin’ baby?” 

You hummed for a moment, considering. 

“Well,” you said. “I do miss the girls. But… I like having you all to myself. Think I want to stay here, where I can take advantage of the fact that I can get you naked whenever I want, for at least a few days. Maybe a week.” 

He smiled. 

“Week sounds good,” he said. 

“Plus,” you said. “We can always come back in the future. Have as many honeymoons as we want.” 

“Yeah,” he smiled wider. “We can. We got time.” 

You kissed your husband, soft and slow, before pulling away and smiling back at him. 

“We do,” you said. “We have all the time in the world.” 

A/N:

Hi, everyone!

I cannot believe we are here. Exactly one year ago today I published the first chapter of Yearling and now I'm publishing the last.

Thank you so so so much for going on this journey with me, Joel and Bambi. These characters have meant so much to me over the past year and it has been just an absolute joy to share them with you. I hope you've enjoyed how they've grown together and built the life they'll have from here on out.

If you'd like to keep reading what I'm sharing, I am starting up another few fics. There's an AU of Yearling that you can find here and I am working on another Joel fic that is a no-outbreak AU where Joel is reader's bodyguard. It's called The Savage and the Sanctuary and you can find that here.

I've always been bad at saying goodbye, so I won't do that. I will just say thank you for coming on this adventure with me and for all the love and support you've shared. I hope to see you again soon.

Be well, take care of yourselves, and spread a little kindness in the world.

Love you!!

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