#i'm tired of important people in my life claiming i'm putting on a show for attention. I hope you all get flayed and sprayed w/pepper spray

[curious-sootball]

You know... now I understand why a fucked up mother is such a popular archetype in queer stories.

[disruptivevoib]

Long Ramble about CCCC and my overall feelings on what the album means and such

Something I find important about CCCC is like.

The fact that all three of them are, in some way, trying.

Heart is emotion, he is prone to himself and being reactionary, in the moment. Prone to the past of learned behavior and trauma. Reactive and rapidly changing. He isn't going to make pure sense because he isn't based in logic or in societal ideals or views. He is an instinctual response to the environment and circumstances. His manipulation is not intentional. He has very little control of himself in the end. Its why Mind talks about claiming to relish entropy yet clearly needing help. But, Heart in earnest wants them to be okay and safe. He believes that Mind's control will drain the life from them. It will make things monotonous and the same. Too much order.

Mind in turn, believes Heart is manipulative with intention. He wants to control Soul or wants to just drag them all down with him into this depressive state. Mind is logic, he is the reasoning out of your emotional instinct. Your inner critique, and when unchecked, that inner critique goes from a guiding hand for your emotion to one that debates and bullies it. Invalidating its responses. Ultimately, though. Mind just believes he is helping. He is doing what must be done and telling the "hard truths" to Heart. And that Heart is being the petty child. Which- I mean. Sort of sure. But Mind is definitely fucking petty and childish. He's stubborn! Prideful! So ofc he is. Admitting you're wrong? No.. why would he EVER do that.. nuh uh.

Which is what makes Light so crucial. Mind asking Heart for help- but also. There is Soul.

Who while ambiguous in purpose, is mostly that background voice. Your inner narration. If Mind is Logic and Reason then Heart is Emotion and Instinct,, Soul is all that lives between it. And he is constantly silenced or spoken over or around. He does not get a word in edgewise until TSE. He may show up in the background occasionally but as much as Heart and Mind claim to want to keep him alive and help him, they also fail to actually acknowledge what he says.

Which is that they both are right and wrong. That this fighting is doing directly what they both feared it would. Soul is desperate by the end. He is angry and resentful because.. well. Self hatred due to intense self awareness and reflection is rather ig. Common. Im not a professional here but from personal experience, you get so tired of rehashing the same shit with yourself over and over. It all feels pointless.

The only out, by the end of it all to Soul is that if they cannot be Whole, whats the point? He is desperate. He does not want to die but he feels theres no other solution.

And. About Whole, Soul throughout the album seems to want that. At the beginning, to be Whole or Harmonious is to be mentally healthy, maybe even "normal" by society's standards. To be able to put a mask over your problems and be, again, "normal". It takes the entire album for Soul to realize that this:

1. isnt possible

And

2. There isn't anything evil or wrong with him for that.

Mental health is a struggle. But you are not evil and should not be othered because you struggle. You also do not need to be fixed for being a little different and people's opinion of you is not what matters most so long as you are happy (and not hurting others. Lol).

Thats what Two Wuv is entirely about as a song. Its a "fuck you. Fuck this! I thought I needed to be this! But I DON'T. Stop telling me who I am! How to be! I'm gonna be me!"

His entire arc is parallel to Heart and Mind's and is crucial in the culmination of becoming yourself again and accepting yourself.

But, as mental health will always be, this period of respite and self acceptance is not always forever. And as life continues or as you lapse back into a depressive episode.. you cannot help but forget what it is like when you're not this way- and hell! Vice versa too! Some people have this disconnect between the periods. Where the things from the depressive state seem dramatic or obtuse to you while you are doing better. And from the other end, you just want to be happy again.. but you get so lost in it all you can struggle to feel like you've ever been happy.

The album is about the human experience. It is about self-sabotage, mental illness, self-hatred and reflection and it is, maybe more importantly about self-acceptance and healing. Having a bit of mercy on yourself. Accepting that you are imperfect and that this is okay. And whatever flaws you may have that need to be mended or worked on, can be. And that who you are, for example, if you are queer, is okay. And no one has the right to take that identity from you! That the internalized ideas of how someone should be are not always correct or right. Not for you, at least. Stuff like that.

[sophsicle]

Hi love

A lot of ppl on twt are saying not to read choices because of the use of sa and that Mary’s sa was only used as plot device, could you explain why you chose to include this in your fic?

I mean, I can, I have done this a lot and i'm a bit tired of it honestly, but

the very simple answer to this, is that, canonically, the only thing we know about Mary is that she was attacked by a bunch of death eater wannabes (Mulciber specifically) in her year

that is why Mary is attacked in Choices, it's canon.

why is it SA? because, in my experience, men, who feel entitled to respect and power, tend to use SA as a means of acquiring it.

it felt realistic to me.

i drew from a lot of experiences i have had, friends of mine have had, and just stuff that has happened around me. the way it's handled by Dumbledore, for example, is how my university handled a similar instance of girls being targeted by their male classmates

i tried to do it respectfully, i tried to make sure that it was about Mary, about her character, her experience as a Muggleborn in this society on the cusp of, essentially, a race war. I tried to make sure that James was not the hero of that story, and that Regulus wasn't able to walk away from it completely clean. I tried to make it complex.

in my opinion, people who have issues with it generally fall into two categories: 1) they are upset that James doesn't save the day. that James doesn't handle it perfectly, that he doesn't immediately cut Regulus out of his life once he realizes he was somehow involved, and therefore, they argue that I'm clearly saying that SA is somehow okay. I would hope that it is clear from Mary's chapter and her POVs that that's not what I was trying to do. I would hope that the fact that she never forgives James completely would also make that clear. And the fact that it's something both Regulus and James are haunted by until they die. i didn't want James to automatically know how to handle that situation, because he's a teenage boy, and i think he can care about Mary and still struggle with cutting Regulus off. like i don't know what other people's experiences are, but it is in fact very difficult to accept that the people you love can do bad things. it takes time. and again, i didn't want Mary's SA to be a moment for James Potter to be the hero. 2) people seem to just be upset that i wrote about SA in the first place. to which I say: fine, do not read it. but i think it is important to write about these topics. representation matters, showing how these things happen, showing how victims of SA are treated, how they feel, and process these things, how their relationships with their friends and families, and even with themselves, are altered by these experiences, i think is important. i TW all the chapters that dealt with it, i put it in the tags. if people don''t want to read about SA that is totally their prerogative, but they don't get to dictate what i do, their righteous anger is unjustified, and, quite frankly, the harassment i have gotten from them is vile and ironic since they are claiming that i am the one causing harm.

[seventhdoctor]

A Trapezoid of Foils: Judai/Yubel and Amon/Echo

I'm back on my bullshit, and my bullshit is yelling about the trashfire that is Judai Yuki and Yubel. This post is a collection of thoughts on how Amon and Echo were clearly meant to reflect Judai and Yubel in some way or other, and how it feels like it should be neater than it is. The parallels are there, but it's not fully symmetrical and some of the angles are kind of weird...so yeah, kind of like a (non-isosceles) trapezoid!

(Geometry Tumblr do not @ me, I'm doing my best with this metaphor)

Spoilers for GX season 3, naturally. I haven't said it before, but for this post as well as previous ones I'm basing all information and characterization on the sub version of GX rather than the dub (which drastically changes Yubel's backstory and motives).

Yubel and Amon

This is the most obvious one, because Yubel spends two whole episodes and honestly some of their most iconic monologues trying to tear Amon down after building him up the whole season.

They're both antagonists willing to cause harm to the one they love for their goals. For Amon, that goal is the power to build a utopia. For Yubel, the harm is the goal - or at least, the metric by which they will have achieved their goal (showing their love for Judai).

Yubel, of course, claims that Amon is more selfish in his use of harm. Pain is love in their philosophy, but it's mutual pain - dishing out the pain without taking any back would only be mere cruelty. This of course misses the nuance that Echo wanted Amon to use her as a sacrifice, while Judai didn't welcome any of Yubel's twisted affections.

Still, from what I've seen most people agree that Yubel comes across as more "honest" one way or another. And to understand why things feel that way, it's important to look at their backstory and motivations, as well as how their motivations change.

Yubel dedicated themself to Judai's past life, tying themself to him through lifetimes, and in the present remained true to that devotion in unwanted ways. When Judai sent them to space and it ended up being Oops! All Torture, Yubel developed their sadomasochistic philosophy as a coping mechanism and an attempt to reconcile Judai's past promises and present actions.

Upon their return to Earth, they planned to return the "favor": by sending Yubel to the pain and isolation of outer space Judai made them stronger (i.e., infected by the Light of Destruction, with all that entails), so they'll give him his own painful experience (all of season 3) to make him stronger (awaken his power as Supreme King). Then they'll reunite, having both demonstrated their love for each other, and [this part is where the Light of Destruction really twists up their thinking]. Everything they do is in the name of this motive*, whether Judai really likes it or not.

Amon dedicated himself to the Garam conglomerate with Echo by his side before being replaced by his younger brother Sid, the sole blood Garam sibling. He nearly murdered Sid before changing his mind and dedicating himself wholly to his brother instead, a decision Echo and Yubel both describe as willingly chaining himself to their service. Even when given an opportunity to become the heir (all it'd take is watching his brother die to illness, not even murder) he rejects it, and begs for a way to save him.

And yet, when when given the opportunity he made a deal with the devil to break the chains he put on himself and abandon that same family. Then when he gets the chance to obtain power by sacrificing someone he loves, he does exactly that. Then he plans to become king of a utopia free of suffering, and always remember Echo.

So then, what are Amon's motives? Is he somebody who got tired of being abandoned or unappreciated? An ends-justify-the-means idealist? Just a power-hungry hypocrite? It's hard to tease out a consistent character and ideology from him. And in a show where people wear their hearts in their decks, I think this part of why people hate him - and so does Yubel.

Yubel hates Johan because he's terrifyingly like Yubel in some ways, focused and protective and dear to Judai.** Yubel hates Amon because he can't be like Yubel at all, resenting the brother he dedicated himself to and sacrificing the person he loved for power in an empty world forever devoid of that same person.

No way Yubel can be that kind of person, right? Otherwise, what was it all for?

* To be fair, you don't know all of Yubel's backstory by the time of their final duel with Amon. However, even removing the context of their past life that duel together with Yubel!Johan vs. Hell Kaiser establishes Yubel's central motivations more coherently than they do Amon's.

** Help, I know there's been other essay segments on this topic, text and video alike. But I saw a lot of them back in early 2023 when I was mindlessly going through GX material in a haze of hyperfixation and now I've forgotten all the other good sources.

Yubel and Echo

If Yubel's parallels with Amon are about their dedication, Yubel's parallels with Echo are about who they're dedicated to. Both believe in their loved one's destiny to become a king, and take actions to make them that king.

Yubel has historical basis in that Judai is quite literally the Supreme King, bearer of the gentle darkness. To help him achieve that role, Yubel enacts a plot to break Judai until he awakens his Supreme King side. It fits neatly into their schema of things: this is how they make the person they love stronger, so that they will thrive and survive. Make Judai stronger and awaken his old power, and all will be as it was meant to be.

Echo just believes that Amon is amazing enough that he would make a better king than anyone. When the chances arises to help break his chains and give him a world to rule, Echo takes it.

...And boy does she.

Both Yubel and Echo believe their loved ones are meant to be a king. Both give their lives in support of their loved one, and become weapons wielded in their service.

No wonder Yubel was shaken by Echo's devotion remaining within Exodia for just a moment - it's not all that far from their own.

Unfortunately Yubel's only direct interaction with Echo is goading her attack on field-Yubel during the final Amon duel. Otherwise they only speak of Echo as someone used and abandoned by Amon - which in itself has potential, given Yubel's own feelings about Judai sending them away.

I think GX could definitely have explored this connection a bit more. There's space to fill here.

Judai and Amon

As noted above, Judai and Amon both have roles as kings - at least, in the eyes of their single most loyal people. Judai holds the title of Supreme King as the wielder of gentle darkness, and while not confirmed his past life sure looked like a prince. Amon simply has ambition, talent, and an ideal world in his mind.

And in operating with the ambition of kings, they both do terrible things to achieve power. Judai lays this out explicitly in the Edo vs. Amon duel:

Amon lets his need for power get in the way of his other relationships and priorities, and sacrifices the ones he loves to obtain Exodia similarly to how Judai sacrificed his friends and eventually uncountable innocents for his own goals - finding Johan, and then ruling as Supreme King. Straightforward, right?

But I think there's another parallel between the two that's a lot more interesting. Or...most of a parallel. Namely, their relationship with their other halves and the responsibility of a loyal follower who would give up anything for you, be it their life or their humanity.

What do you do when the person you love most dedicates their existence to you - to the point of throwing everything else away, even their very life?

Of course, the Judai-Yubel and Amon-Echo situations aren't exactly the same even putting aside the issue of reincarnation. (For the purposes of this essay I'm not making huge distinctions between Judai and his past life, but if you want to get into the details I've written about that previously.)

Yubel went ahead and made their sacrifice without Judai's input, and all he could do was decide how to respond. He chose to dedicate himself back to them so hard it crossed lifetimes, so hard he chose to risk his own existence for them as well in his next life.

Amon, on the other hand, is the one who proposed Echo sacrifice herself for him. Echo agreed to it, and even by the end she stood by her decision. But Amon loaded the gun and pulled the trigger.

He tries to honor her sacrifice, of course. He's always mindful of Echo's sacrifice and what it means. But in the end, he did choose to sacrifice her, ultimately using her as a pawn. Their love never trumped his own objectives.

And I think the example of Amon and Echo leads to the question: if Judai had the choice of letting Yubel become a dragon or stopping them, what would he do? When it was explicitly their will?

This is another missed opportunity, one that could have solidified the parallels neatly. But GX never asks that question, so the answer is unclear. What could have been a parallel is just kind of...askew.

Judai and Echo

Okay, I admit there isn't a lot here off the top of my head. Probably the best parallels between them are in relation to their other halves, as the people "harmed" by their villainous partners, and how they respond to that harm.

Judai rejects Yubel's torments as unwanted attention, until he remembers the past and flips to understanding why Yubel did they did and makes moves to unite the two of them forever. Echo, meanwhile, understands Amon's motives from start to end and...lets herself be sacrificed, the end.

I don't know about this one. Really, ultimately Echo is supposed to be a willing participant in her own sacrifice but in the end I still don't feel like the narrative gave her a strong sense of agency in the matter and it really weakens my attempt to write this section.

In Conclusion

Some of these connections are stronger than others for sure, but I argue that they're all there in some way or another. They're very uneven and overall I'm not entirely sure what you're meant to take from the parallels, and I wish I could give something neat and concise for this section. Instead, it's a bit messy and misshapen - hence, the trapezoid metaphor.

Still, I think there's interesting room for thought in this awkward space. I was certainly thinking about these parallels while working on the latest chapter of Need (accidental last-minute plug?) and trying to figure out exactly what the prince felt while Yubel was in the middle of dragon surgery. What must it be like, to be in these relationships of sacrificial devotion?

[tvfangirladdict]

Rant about all the Bi-Buck Arc hate surfacing.

Made the mistake of scrolling through comments on Instagram surrounding 911 and the cast.

I need to blow off steam, so this is gonna probably start harsh.

While there was so much heartfelt appreciation for Buck's storyline, the negative comments kept stealing my attention. I'm so tired of hearing(reading) that people think the whole show is ruined because two grown men kissed. Like, get the fuck over yourselves already. You don't agree with the relationship, you're just gonna have to deal with it the same we've dealt with Buck and Eddie's half-assed, flat, forced heterosexual relationships for the last 7 years, okay?

They all want to justify their biphobia/homophobia by saying that it's "forced" or it "doesn't make sense," or that they "never saw Buck even hint at it and it's just pandering to fans." Like, bitch, welcome to real life. If you're a real fan of this show, and you watched from the beginning, you know Athena and Michael's marriage ended first thing when he came out as gay. A muscular, "straight", black guy with a wife and two kids who'd been in the closet/denial his whole life, came out to his family, and none of them saw it coming, even if they might have suspected "deep down". This shit happens every day, okay? They're all mad cause "if he was gonna be gay, they should have made him gay from the beginning". Why? So you could form your opinion of him based on who he's attracted to? Why does this bother you so much. You were okay with it when it was Michael and Hen cause you knew from the beginning and they were your token gay characters that you've just learned to "put up with" to appease the rainbow crowd.

And it's not even the ones who are just straight up, like "it's wrong"/"it's a sin"/"it's gross", etc. that bother me the most. It's the "I don't care, you do you, but don't shove it down my throat", people that make me mad. Why is simply witnessing a queer person or relationship "shoving it down your throat"? Y'all realize they exist in real life too, right? Like, personally, I have family, friends, co-workers, bosses, who are all apart of the lgbtq+ community, and I'm from a smaller suburban/rural area of Ohio. Those are just the people in my life who are out. Why is seeing them represented in modern media so bad? This isn't covid, it's not fucking contagious. If it was your brother, your cousin, your best friend, would it be okay then? Both of my brothers have only ever dated women, but if one of them came out and said "hey, I think I might like guys too," I'm not gonna throw a fucking fit and invalidate them by telling them it's not possible because they've only ever dated women. No, I'll thank them for trusting me, and gush to them about boys because I never had a sister to do that with.

Every time I read those comments, all I can think is, you just proved that you're not a safe person to be trusted if someone in your life wants to come out.

Just, how do you give up on an entire show after one kiss? And then claim that you don't have a problem with it? You can't have it both ways. If it didn't matter to you, you wouldn't react so strongly and so negatively to it. 911 and ABC's intention isn't to question your sexuality. You don't have to worry that you're suddenly going to have to kiss Buck too, okay? Chill.

The whole "Buck has only ever slept with women" and "suddenly he's gay" responses are exactly why this storyline is so important. So many people to this day refuse to acknowledge sexualities outside of straight and gay. Why is it always, "made gay"? It doesn't have to be one or the other. It can be both, or neither.

I say this with the experience of having a mom who's still in the "I don't care as long as I don't have to see it" camp. If seeing it upsets you, you've got a problem. If it really doesn't matter and you're cool letting everyone be themselves, seeing two men together should be just as accepted as a man and a women together. Unless you're also saying we need to stop portraying men and women in romantic, sexual relationships together with kissing scenes or more graphic ones, then you can't rule with a double standard. Me and my mom loved watching Teen Wolf together, but any time there was a scene with Danny kissing another guy, she'd get uncomfortable. She even told me once, that she didn't think they should show scenes like that but she wasn't sure why when watching het couples together didn't make her feel the same way.

Safe, sane, and consensual. As long as they follow that, and are happy, why can't you just be happy for them?

If you're old enough to have been following along with this show, you're old enough to know that everyone is different. And life as an adult is about opening yourself up to the outside world and learning about what makes people different. From race to religion to sexuality to nationality and beyond. Your views, beliefs, ideologies, etc, are not the only ones that matter. Getting and giving acceptance goes hand in hand.

I get it to a certain extent. Coming from a different time and all that, but it just means you've had more time to learn. Being stubborn and holding onto what you were brought up in doesn't mean a whole lot to me if you refuse to open your mind up as an adult to look beyond yourself.

Okay, I'm done now. That felt chaotic, but I feel better. If you've made it this far, thanks for coming to my TED talk☺️

[gray-parrot323]

I think you and the Hera's fan lady hates Lord Apollo 😞

It's okay if you don't like him, but please show respect for the people who worship him... Always i want to see the news of Apollon and Artemis i found posts or asks of how he is a mysoginist or how he could be a perfect villain... Aeschylus is the one who was a mysoginist, not Apollon, that argument in Eumenides contradicts many myths of him in were he supports women (like Leto, Artemis, the Muses, many of his lovers).

We need to know that the tragedies are not resources for the deities worship... Wasn't wrote by religious people, were poets and dramaturgs! Takes it like an "ancient fanfic"

Also Lady Artemis, she wasn't a mysoginist! We need also to puts ourselfs in the context and the ancient laws... And i repeat, the aurho was the mysoginist, not the deities

I don't know if you will answer me, i understand if you don't, but please, i'm tired of people blaming the Gods and Goddesses 😞😫

Also sorry if my english is bad, is nor my laungage

I actually don’t hate him but I disagree with claim that we should ignore Aeschylus he was part of culture and religion and was a significant playwright and his play or more accurately his trilogy of plays The Oresteia was one of the most significant plays Greek plays to ever exist and clearly this play was reflective of his culture and religion and also to the claim That we shouldn’t use tragedies as sources for god worship i kinda of disagree most of what we know about Greek religion comes from the tragedians and poets not from priests examples like Medea by Euripides is one of the most important sources for life of Medea even though we know that Euripides made some major changes to her character and how much we would’ve know about the theban cycle like stories of Antigone and Oedipus if it was not for the tragedians however yes i do agree that the claim that Apollo,Athena or Artemis are misogynistic is wrong oversimplistic they meant different things to different people for example Artemis in Ephesus was worshipped in different capacity than Artemis in Athens and i and @deathlessathanasia were not attacking Apollo worshipers if it was seen as a an attack then I am sorry and i don’t think Apollo worshipers should be attacked and they should worship him freely as they want

[lisa-is-writing]

Coming Home Pt.1

i wrote it before the russian invasion in ukraine, what completely changed my perspective for this work. anyway, i translated it and now i'm planning to make it a trilogy. before reading, i'm asking you to acknowledge the fact that even sleeping peacefully in your bed is a big privilege, and some of us will never come home. thank you.💙💛

Inspired by this post // AO3 link

Anthony Stark was known as a great warrior far beyond the borders of the Kingdom of Shield and Sword. A native of the nobility, he renounced his place in the Council and became an ordinary knight of King Nicholas the Furious, and very quickly had risen to a commander. He was called Iron Man for his steel will and endurance, cold mind, ruthlessness to enemies and kindness to his soldiers. And it also seemed that he was invulnerable. He came out of any fight victorious, without a single scratch. The swords seemed to pass through the flesh, leaving no wounds. The mere mention of his name made the invaders' knees shake, and discord and anxiety reigned among the barbarians. In the Three Kingdoms, he was loved and revered, the king himself trusted him with important decisions, his opinion was valued at court, but his life was shrouded in a veil of riddles and secrets. 

No one has ever seen him with a woman or a man. Rumour had it that after the service he hid in an Ancient forest, in the heart of their homeland, but those desperate who wanted to follow him and reveal this secret, wandered in centuries-old groves for days until they were spat out to the walls of the city, exhausted and lost. Someone claimed that Anthony is a hermit, and lives in the forest to avoid unnecessary meetings with people. This was at odds with his bright friendliness and caustic sense of humour, which was liked by everyone who crossed paths with him. Someone whispered that he had sold his heart in order to instil fear in enemies and demolish their heads without the slightest hesitation, with one single movement of a sharp sword. Someone else thought that their commander had a wife and a brood of children a long time ago, but he did not want to show them to society and put them in danger.

But Anthony himself didn't give a damn about all this. He skilfully avoided provocative questions, joyfully greeted the townspeople, and still went into battle without a second thought, when his king demanded it. He was the only one who knew the truth, and what the gossips were right about was that he really didn't want to put his personal life on public display. 

That is why he only rolled his eyes at the jokes of his knights when they returned from another campaign, tired, having suffered losses, but still with a victory. The commander was still quietly mourning the fallen guys who gave their lives for the good of their kingdom, but did not want to pull the fun of the survivors, allowing them small pranks. Despite the external impenetrable facade and the name given to him, Anthony was quite soft-hearted, nothing human was alien to him. He couldn't wait to get home, escape into the arms of his dear thicket of the forest, and forget about the service and the world around him for at least a few weeks. 

A silhouette flashed by from the side. Stark turned his head, meeting the bright blue eyes of his right-hand man and good friend, Stephen Rogers. The man looked at him as if he saw everything that was going on in his head, and it caused some discomfort. Anthony knew that no one could read his thoughts, with or without magic, but the icy gaze pierced through, making him shiver. He only tightened his grip on the reins of his faithful horse Hyacinth and looked back at the empty dusty road. The path, trodden by thousands of feet, slither between the sown fields close to the standing village to the barely visible tops of the mountains, behind which the Kingdom were hidden. They had been on the road for several days in a row, stopped for the night every two nights, which made the foot soldiers' legs give out from fatigue, but everyone wanted to be home so much that no one dared to complain.

"Your eyes are glowing," Stephen said after a moment of silence, "you're eager to come home.

"Like all of us," he jerked his heavily armoured shoulder. "Don't you want to see your spouse?"

“Of course I do. And that's why it's strange to see the same expression on your face that I've been seeing on mine for the last two weeks.”

Anthony grinned and shook his head. The scoundrel will find out everything. Despite the fact that Rogers went hand in hand with him in dozens of battles, never judged and always treated with understanding, he also did not know the entire biography of his commander. All he knew was that Anthony was really waited by someone there, in the Ancient Forest, but he wasn't going to share it with anyone, not interested in intimate details. It was enough for him to see a smile on the face of a combat comrade.

“If you know, why are you asking? Do you hope that the hard shell will crack, revealing the golden core to the whole world?”

“No. I just want to understand you better, that's all.”

Tony smiled placidly.

"You understand me better than most, Stephen. And you know more about me than others. But there is something that even you can't find out.”

“Just answer me — are you happy?”

Anthony turned to Rogers with a dreamy smile, with his eyes sparkling like two stones of dark jasper. By his face only it was possible to understand everything, nevertheless the man quietly said:

“Happier than anyone in the world,” he gave a short laugh and added: “No offence, my friend.”

“None taken,” Stephen smiled in response and shifted the topic to a more general one, which relaxed Stark a little and allowed him to let go of himself, not controlling his own words so hard.

They reached the city when the sun hovered over the horizon in a huge circle, ready to set any minute. The crescent moon hung like a ghost in the sky, a bluish glow fighting off the rays of tired daylight. From the soft pink-blue twilight, everything around seemed softer and more magical, mesmerizing travellers with such a simple beauty of their native home. Already at the high gate, they were met by jubilant citizens. They showered the winners with millet and barley, flower petals and fragrant herbs in gratitude for the peace they brought. The cobblestones, darkened by the passage of time, led to the square under the castle, where the king was already waiting for them. On the narrow streets between the houses, the horsemen dismounted, and the pedestrians gathered in dense columns, cutting through the crowd like a sharp knife. Restless children were getting under the horses' feet, parents kept shouting, dragging the kids away from the steaming animals at the last minute. In the overwhelming hum of joy and approval, the knights approached the castle and stopped at the foot of the wide stone stairs where their ruler stood.

Nicholas spread his arms and smiled proudly, covering more than a hundred of his warriors with a single eye. They all knelt before him, with Anthony at the head, but the commander allowed himself to keep his head straight and look at the king in return. During those ten months of wandering the borders of the Kingdom and fighting the barbarians, Nicholas had not changed at all: he was still stern, but there was a barely discernible warmth in his eyes towards Stark, whom he considered to be his son, for all those years of faithful service. He nodded, allowing the knights to rise to their feet, and they all turned their eyes to the king with expectation and noticeable fatigue.

"Greetings, my warriors," he began majestically, "you are finally at home. We were all waiting for you with a victory, and you did not let us down. We praise the survivors and mourn the fallen. You defended our kingdom with honour and dignity, for which you will be generously rewarded. Tomorrow you will have a feast, but in the meantime you have earned the right to rest and gain strength. Glory to you!”

The people exclaimed: "Glory, glory, glory!”, loudly applauding and whistling in all sorts of ways. Anthony allowed himself a wry smile. Grooms immediately approached the horses, ready to take them to the stalls and take good care of them: wash, comb, feed and drink. Stark stroked Hyacinth's black neck and lightly squeezed the stiff mane with his metal fingers of armour, meeting the gaze of intelligent dark eyes.

“You were a good girl, my dear,” he cooed and buried his forehead in her nose just below the eyes, exhaling loudly, “you're just great. I'll come to you tomorrow, but in the meantime, listen to the grooms and try not to hurt anyone - they just want to take care of you," in response, he received a loud, as if indignant, snort, and grinned. “Yes, I know. But very soon we will be home. I promise.”

He finally patted the faithful horse on the neck once more and handed the reins to a very young boy who was looking at the commander's companion in fright. Hyacinth immediately shook her head and kicked her hoof in displeasure, to which Anthony grinned:

“She has quite a temper, but don't show her your fear. She can smell fright a mile away, and that's why there’s all this messing around.”

"Y-yes, sir," the young man bleated and pulled the black horse into a stall at the back of the castle. Stark watched them go until someone else's hand landed on his shoulder with force. He turned around, unsurprised that there were just few people left in the square — everyone had a place to be. The king looked at him expectantly, gripping the metal of his armour with strong fingers.

“Come on, Edward,” he was the only one calling the commander by his middle name, except Anthony’s parents, “we have something to discuss.”

"Of course, Your Majesty.”

No matter how much Anthony wanted to saddle Hyacinth and ride away into the forest, the service still stood above his own interests. That was why he nodded respectfully and followed the king into the Great Hall, where the councillors and governors, including his father, were already seated. Howard jumped up from a heavy chair as soon as Anthony crossed the threshold, and hugged him tightly, not ashamed of his high status and everyone present.

"Glad to see you, son," he said softly in his offspring's ear and pulled away, looking into eyes identical to his own, "you made your old man proud of you again.”

"Thank you, Father," Anthony replied just as quietly, feeling his chest warm from the words. Even though he was already in his fourth decade, and his father's face was covered with deep wrinkles, he still wanted to make his family feel proud of him. “Glad to finally be home.”

“I'm happy about it.”

Finally, Howard patted his son's hand with a flourish and sat back down at the table, Edward sat down next to him. The king, who had been sympathetically silent before, started talking about attacks on the state, demanding a report of what was happening on the borders and began a discussion about how they could stop attempts on their lands once and for all. All this dragged on until late at night, and everyone left the hall completely exhausted. Stark, who had not known a restful sleep for months, felt like an old sponge wielded by cooks in royal kitchens, washing plates and cups. Nicholas dismissed all those sitting and volunteered to escort the commander to his chambers, which he had once allocated for him in the palace. Edward stayed in them when it was too late to go home, as it was this time. At the king's wish, he just shrugged his shoulders and moved along the corridors with a measured unsteady step, jerking his shoulders every now and then: from long wear, the armour mercilessly rubbed the skin and pressed on tired muscles. 

"You did a great job, Edward," the ruler said, looking at the man next to him with some concern, "very few people give themselves to the service with the same passion.”

"Serving you and the people of these lands is the least I can do.”

"That's the noblest thing you can do, as well. I will never be able to fully thank you.”

"Your praise is gratitude enough for me.”

"So that means your salary increase isn't really necessary?"

Nicholas smiled slyly, and Anthony shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to show that the allowance would be very useful to him. He was paid enough, but money is never superfluous. Stark was thinking about the future, saving money and cherishing dreams of children.

"As you see fit, Your Majesty," he replied plainly and shrugged again, anticipating how he would take off his armour to hell and forget about it for the next few weeks.

"I consider it necessary to raise your salary by twenty-five gold pieces and a two-month vacation in your beloved wilderness. Rogers will replace you in your absence.”

Anthony was taken aback by such generosity and even slowed down, looking dumbfounded at the king's back, covered with a black shirt.

"Your Majesty, I didn't even dare..." he shook his head, gathering his thoughts. "I am very grateful to you, sir, but I must ask if my soldiers have received the same honour?"

"Of course," Nicholas nodded importantly, "everyone will receive a bonus of ten gold and a month of rest. We have enough people to protect the Kingdom, and you deserve a long vacation like no other.”

"But will the treasury be able to withstand such expenses, Your Majesty?"

“It will. Again, thanks to your efforts, villages are not robbed or burned, fields are not trampled, our fertile land is not poisoned. People are still working, neighbouring kingdoms have concluded even more favourable contracts with us, which allows me to pay both workers and soldiers a decent salary. The Kingdom of Shield and Sword is only getting stronger every day, and your role is not the least in this, son.”

The general thought only for a moment before nodding humbly. Only in front of the king he could show such meekness, and only because he sincerely respected his ruler. It was not in his nature to bend under others, which he proved more than once by his actions.

In silence, they reached the oak doors of Stark's chambers. Nicholas put one arm around his shoulders, hugging him for a brief moment, and quickly left, leaving Anthony to himself. He entered the rooms and inhaled deeply the smell of clean bed linen and herbal soap. The already familiar surroundings pleased the eye: a comfortable bed with a red canopy, a sturdy table and two rough-hewn chairs that did not lose their comfort from carelessness of work, heavy curtains at mosaic windows, a wardrobe and several empty chests of drawers. Sparingly, because Anthony did not live here, preferring to leave the palace shrouded in an aura of awe and live surrounded by nature, life, reality, away from that majestic stone walls.

He began to unbutton the clips and straps, throwing off the heavy metal with a sigh of relief. It came with some difficulties, in the absence of another pair of hands, but soon he was left only in thick clothes with leather inserts, which went to the floor after the armour, leaving a strong body naked. Fighting a shiver from the palpable coolness of the night, Anthony pulled out a lighter garment from the chest of drawers and threw it on a chair near a large bucket of already cooled water that was waiting for him in the far corner behind the curtain. Stark stepped into the water with his feet, which made him shudder again, took a hard wash cloth and hastily moistened his body. After that, it was the turn of that scented soap — he lathered his greasy hair and exhausted body, and washed himself with water again. It turned completely gray from all the dirt that covered the commander's body for many weeks. He didn't try to wash himself until his skin creaked — he was too tired — but even after such a simple washing, he felt as if he had been reborn. With a rough comb, he somehow managed to untangle his dark hair, dressed and climbed under the blanket, sighing happily. The light cotton of the shirt and pants pleasantly cooled the body, while the feather bed and duvet warmed and gave comfort. He buried his nose in a pillow stuffed with feathers and curled up in a ball, pressing his hands to his chest. The solar plexus was burning with a familiar, barely perceptible heat, which made him smile. Already on the verge of sleep and reality, he thought that no matter how good it was in the royal palace, it would be a thousand times better at home. It took Anthony exactly four breaths to fall into the long-awaited deep sleep.

He woke up out of habit with the first cocks. The body still needed rest, but the mind was as clear as the sky that morning. The sun playfully peeked in through the half-open window, watching Anthony stretch with a grunt after a short, but still excellent rest. His stomach rumbled loudly, demanding at least some food, to which the man grimaced with displeasure - he did not want to stay in the castle for a minute, but he still needed to go into the kitchen and sneak a little treat for Hyacinth to please her. 

He put on low leather boots and found his scabbard at the head of the bed. The familiar weight of the sword felt pleasantly on his hip as he walked briskly through the castle. The lower he descended, the more servants he met on his way. Everyone greeted him with a smile and a nod of the head, good acquaintances lingered to exchange a few words. Eventually, Anthony managed to get to the kitchen; the spacious room on the underground floor was covered with a blue veil of steam from numerous pots and pans on the stoves and in the oven: everyone was preparing for the upcoming celebration with might and main. Cooks and small servants were rushing back and forth with food and ready meals, giving instructions and shouting over the general noise.

"What kind of people," Anthony heard close to his ear and turned to the sound of a woman's voice. In front of him stood Natalia, one of the princesses who loved to visit the most unexpected places for the royal blood, “have you come to personally give instructions for the feast? Don't worry, I'm sure your favourite rum will be served first.”

“I'm looking for something to appease Hyacinth,” Stark chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest, not giving up under the inquisitive gaze of the girl, “and what are you doing here? It's not right for Your Highness to get her hands dirty with such work.”

“Which I don’t,” Natalia shrugged her shoulders and waved two tight red braids, which received a disapproving look from one of the cooks. Anthony smiled knowingly and looked at the servants at the far wall, near the door that led to a narrow secret staircase. A dark-haired guy was looking back at him with a cocky grin. Strong, sinewy hands peeked out from under the sleeves of a gray shirt, fingers clutching the handle of an axe. 

"Buchanan," Anthony drawled and turned his gaze to the princess, who, on the contrary, turned away with a barely noticeable blush. “Your Highness…”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she rolled her eyes, “he is married to Knight Rogers, happily married! It's like I have some kind of power over my own heart.”

“That's for sure. I can only say that your happiness awaits you somewhere out there, behind the walls of the kitchen. You'll be languishing here all the time – you won't have a chance to meet someone even more worthy," he fell silent for a moment. “And I also heard that Crown Princess Maria is coming to our kingdom. Her disinterest in men is a fairly well-known fact. So there is nothing to poison your soul with false hopes in vain. It's better to go out and give yourself a chance.”

Natalia looked at him for a good minute, without any reaction, before smiling gratefully, squeezing his forearm with an elegant palm.

“You are incredibly wise, Anthony,” from behind her back she pulled out a canvas bag with the clear rounded outlines of several apples. “I think this will be useful to you,” she also stole a slice of freshly baked bread from the table, still hot, and handed it to him, “just like this. Father will be displeased that you are leaving today.”

“The King himself gave me two months of rest.”

“I think he assumed that you would go after the feast.”

The commander's thin lips stretched in an anticipatory smile.

“May His Majesty forgive me, but I've been waiting to come home for almost a year. I'm not going to wait another minute.”

Natasha also smiled broadly and nodded towards the door, prompting the man to take action:

“Go ahead, then. Don't keep them waiting.”

Anthony nodded and went out into the corridors of the castle again, winding through the familiar passages and stairs until he was back in his chambers. He packed up his armour and other belongings in two clunks and left the room, closing the door tightly. A little later, one of the servants would come to clean up, but until then, no one should have seen the mess he had made overnight. Usually neat and thrifty, Stark took care of both armour, sword and horse, as well as clothes, bed, the house in which he lived, and the land belonged to him. He was ashamed to leave his chambers in such a state, but impatience was already boiling in his body lake oil, burning all his insides and urging him to go faster. 

He went out to the stables, meeting the eyes of the old groom. The latter only nodded to him and continued to clean out the stalls, not paying any attention to him. It was quiet, only the occasional snorting of horses interrupted the established idyll. Hyacinth, as if sensing his approach, stuck her head out into the passage and neighed loudly, meeting her master. Anthony smiled, dropped the bags on the floor and stroked the horse's head, lightly scratching the short fur with his nails. The black looked much better than yesterday: neat, shiny, combed and obviously pleased, she poked Stark on the cheek and hands, demanding affection.

“Hello, my gear,” the commander addressed the horse in a familiar affectionate tone, “did you behave well? I see you've been taken good care of. Great. We're going home," he pulled an apple out of the bag and brought it to Hyacinth — the deliciously looking red sides immediately disappeared into her mouth with a loud crunch. The lips slightly hooked the open palm; after chewing, the horse trustfully licked the hand with a rough tongue, begging for more, to which Anthony smiled. “Okay, here's another one.”

The man fed her the remaining two apples and entered the stall, attaching the saddle to Hyacinth's back with honed movements, tightening the flaps and putting on the bridle. The thick black tail was swinging anxiously from side to side, but the horse was silent — she understood that very soon they would be home, and she would be able to forget about the constant load for a long time. Anthony secured the clunks on the saddle and led the animal outside. 

The sun caressed the landscape with a soft morning light. Dark roofs of houses beyond the moor, overgrown with moss in some places, juicy green grass, which Hyacinth immediately pinched to chew, narrow trodden paths to the castle or to the city. The fortress itself pleased the eye with unusual gaiety, anticipation was in the air. Someone will celebrate in the large halls of the stone walls, someone will go to the city square much lower down the streets, and will dance until the morning. Only Anthony was indifferent to the celebration. With all his soul he was drawn to the forest, to his home, to a quiet harbour.

He checked all the fastenings once more and with a smooth movement of his body straddled Hyacinth, gripping the bridle tightly in his hands. Without armour, his weight was not so noticeable, which is why the horse joyfully reared up, neighing cut through the peaceful silence. The rider almost fell to the ground, slightly damp from the morning dew, but only laughed, allowing his fighting friend a little joy. He kicked the black sides with his heels — and the black immediately took off. Anthony bent down to the horse's neck, holding himself expertly in the saddle. The loud clatter of hooves on the cobblestones warned onlookers all along the street ahead, people parted before the galloping animal that darted like an arrow between the two rows of houses on each side, raising dust behind. A strong current of air ruffled the rider's hair, as well as his dark mane. Stark felt a happy laugh bubbling in his throat. For such a long time, filled with nothing but battles, he had forgotten how wonderful it was just to ride light like that, wherever his eyes looked. 

Pretty quickly, Hyacinth crossed the city and came to the edge of the forest. Anthony caught his breath — majestic trees bent their crowns under the wind currents, rustled their leaves, beckoned deep into the mystery of nature. The ancient forest stretched to the very horizon line as far as the eye could see, and stood here long before people built their city at its borders. The inhabitants revered the creation of the highest forces, no one allowed even the thought of chopping down century-old oaks, slender birches, razlogie firs and powerful cedars. Everyone, from naive children to wise old men, believed that the wrath of heaven would fall on anyone who wanted to harm the forest.

Hyacinth, without slowing down, flew into the thick of it, bypassing trees and overcoming obstacles in the form of fallen trunks, thickets and angular stones. Without looking around, she confidently galloped forward, as if led by something. The trail ran ahead like a thin snake, but if you look back, only dense rows of greenery and wood will be standing behind you. High above, birds screamed in fright, disturbed by the horse's loud gallop, scared wild animals ran away in all directions. The forest breathed the scent of herbs, the warm wind, the coolness of unbridled rivers and lakes. Anthony inhaled the smell with a full chest, until his lungs ached, and pulled Hyacinth by the bridle, forcing her to switch to a light trot. He straightened up, looking at the endless riot of flowers, the celebration of life, where death was just the beginning of a new path. Stark missed the trees familiar to every roughness of the bark, the voices of forest dwellers, the air that made his head spin with its freshness and settled on the tongue with the taste of freedom. 

Over the years of living here, he learned to respect the Ancient Forest and take care of it; he was not afraid to get lost, because he believed in invisible spirits, as the townspeople believed in the Lord, who always led him to the right path. The forest was alive: he spoke and was silent, he loved and grieved, laughed and cried. The forest was bigger than Anthony could ever realize, but the man revered him as the church reveres Jesus. Nature was his religion, life here was his altar, where he knelt before the unrestrained power and authority of the Mother of All. Others would think he was crazy, but that belief was one of the few things that made him feel real.

Very soon, the forest led them to a cluster of rocks, looking like a mountain range. More than three meters in height, they stretched to the left, turning inward. Anthony got off Hyacinth and took her by the reins, pulling her to the right. Ten steps later, a slit appeared in front of them as if out of nowhere, hidden in the best traditions by tree branches and long graceful stems of wild ivy that touched the grass with its angular leaves. With his hand, Stark pulled the green curtain aside and entered a short tunnel. The horse snorted with displeasure at the sight of the dark passage, but obediently walked alongside. Following the route learned a long time ago — five steps forward, a turn to the left, three steps straight and three steps to the right — the travellers quickly overcame a small cave and came out into a bright clearing. 

High stones encircling a quiet place with a crescent moon, and a small lake at the two "ends” of the ridge, with a river coming out of it, created an extraordinary solitude and tranquillity. The same sturdy trees stood by the stones, and on the opposite side of the lake there was ploughed land overgrown with wheat, potatoes, corn and other crops. There was a neat stone house with a wooden veranda by the pond, and cherries, apple trees and nuts grew around it in a small garden. Anthony stood in the shade of a weeping willow that bent its vine over the crystal clear water, majestic and beautiful. On the left, along the very edge, there were small wooden buildings — a stable, stalls and a chicken coop. The horse shook its head and neighed, receiving a three-voiced answer. Stark grinned and still led Hyacinth to her dwelling, where they were met by other horses: a gray Fjord, a brown Raven and a bay beauty Luka. The man happily greeted the horses with stroking on the neck and kissing on the nose, noting with surprise the rounded belly of Luka.

“This is a surprise,” he smiled and ran his palm through the silky hair at the belly with trepidation, “and who is the happy daddy? What else happened while I was gone?”

Luca responded with a whinny and pushed Anthony's nose in the back, as if driving him away. He shook his head and led the patiently waiting Hyacinth into an empty stall, finally removing the saddle and harness, to which she happily kicked her front leg. Stark put hay on her and patted her black neck with his palm, saying goodbye. He also looked into the chicken coop, noticing three chicken more than he remembered, checked a black-spotted cow Fanny, along with a goat Alberta, were still in good health.

Rounding the lake, Anthony approached the house, picking a cherry from a nearby tree on the way. The bloody red sides smelled of the sun, tasted sweet, like honey. The openwork curtains in the house through the wide-open windows fluttered a fresh breeze, the porch was filled with clay pots with medicinal herbs and strange plants that were not found in their region. The man climbed the stairs, listening to the faint creak of the boards. The carved handle lay familiarly in the palm of his hand when Stark finished the apple and entered the house, breathing in the familiar smell of his native haven. All the same medicinal herbs, a bitter note of alcoholic tinctures, melted metal and ... something new that wasn't there before, unclear what exactly.

Finally, the tension left the body completely, the broad shoulders relaxed, it was worth seeing all the same small oil paintings, elegant lamps, already worn-out floor mats and greenery. There is a lot of vegetation, as if the forest has found its continuation in these walls. His heavy boots clattered loudly on the wooden floor in time with his steps as Anthony moved deeper into the house. The tips of his fingers stroked the rough wall of stones and clay, entwined with ivy stalks. The variety of colours and shades, despite the monotony of the building, pleased the eye and was an outlet after long months away from home.

The door to the nearest room was ajar. The man bit his lip painfully in an attempt to restrain the laughter rushing out and went inside, catching a sight of the figure at the window. House walls, studied to the smallest detail, remained out of sight, the eyes eagerly dug into the man's back, hidden by a loose white shirt, and elastic curls on his head. A deceptively elegant, somewhat fragile silhouette loomed in the rays of the midday sun. Anthony felt his breath catch, his heart quickened its rhythm, a sweet pull tightened his chest.

"Peter," he croaked, and took a step toward the window. Peter immediately turned around, flashing carnelian eyes and a smile that could replace the sun of the day. Stark sobbed violently, dropping a single tear, while from someone else's chest a quiet warm laugh.

“Spirits of the forest, who are you, and what have you done to my husband?”

Anthony laughed and picked up Peter's body in readiness when he closed the small distance between them in a few steps and rushed into his arms. He was immediately struck by a warm wave, the smell of metal became clearer: magic. Dear, pleasant, because it belonged to Peter. 

"You've grown like you haven't seen a pair of scissors in ages," Peter muttered into his neck.

He pulled back and looked into Anthony's eyes, cupping his face in his hands. Peter looked so tenderly, with such boundless love, that he wanted to cry even more. Stark covered the others' palms with his own and brought the brushes to his lips, leaving a few kisses on each wrist, entwined with witchery patterns. The drawings immediately flashed a bright golden colour, but at the same moment they went out, leaving behind an ephemeral feeling of warmth on the cheek. The man began to examine his husband's face, a bit changed, but still the same: the hair was shorter than he remembered, which caused them to curl in small elastic rings; the face, previously as if chiselled from stone by the best craftsmen, acquired roundness; Peter himself seemed to glow from within, and it was not magic. The look showed even more steel than before, the shoulders are completely relaxed and straightened in a proud posture, the smile is confident, but at the same time even more affectionate. He has changed so subtly, while remaining the same witcher full of love for the world, with his soul wide open. Anthony, unable to resist, bent over Peter, leaving small kisses on his face, to which he laughed and became stubborn.

"Come on, Tony, you're prickly.”

“I'm sorry, I just missed you so much.”

“Me too. Very much. Now come on, I'll warm you some water.”

“But I want to hug you…”

“You will hug me after I wash off all this dirt from you and bring you back to human form, dear.”

Peter intertwined their fingers and pulled them along, squeezing Anthony's hand tightly with his own. Tom had no choice but to obediently follow his husband into the kitchen, where a large wooden bucket was already waiting for them in the centre of the room. The witcher let go of his hand and gracefully waved his wrists — buckets of water from the corner floated to the bigger bucket, pouring all the contents into it until it was almost filled to the brim. One more pass — and the water began to breathe steam, hot in a minute. The patterns on Peter's hands again shimmered with a golden glow until he was satisfied with the result, lowering them down. Anthony wanted to come up to him from behind and put his arm around his waist, but the husband dodged the touch, his shoulders tensed just for a second, but it was enough for the man to frown.

“Is something wrong, love?”

"It's all right," Peter smiled softly, no trace of heaviness or contention on his face. This only confused Stark even more. “Why’re standing like a stranger? Get undressed.”

Without thinking much about his actions, Anthony pulled his shirt over his head, and then his pants along with his shoes, presenting himself in front of his husband in all his naked beauty. He noticed how the sparks flashed in the honey eyes, how the Adam's apple twitched, how the chest rose through a deep breath. Peter's gaze searched his body, burning holes and sending shivers through his skin. There was a distinct heaviness in his groin, but Stark did not allow the excitement to manifest itself and sank into the hot water, sighing blissfully. A little water spilled onto the floor, which the witcher immediately removed with an angular movement of fingers, kneeling behind her husband. He shuddered, feeling the gentle touch of thin fingers on his shoulders. At first, they were neat, timid, as if they were on the thin ice of a frozen lake, and every movement could send them into the blue cold of the depths; then the whole palm lay on the skin, ran down to the elbows, then to the wrists. Peter’s breath was felt on the back of his neck. Peter stroked his chest, back, torso and neck, thereby erasing the line that had emerged between them during this time apart. Anthony felt trust, openness, honesty returning, as if by magic. But the witcher's patterns didn't glow, which indicated the magic blossoming between them from the very first meeting.

The man closed his eyes, allowing himself to dissolve into the unpretentious tenderness and care of his spouse. Peter touched him as if he was the most precious treasure in his life. Tears welled up in his eyes again, Stark sighed and grabbed his lover's still dry palm, unable to resist another kiss. Peter's fingers habitually rested on his cheekbone, turning his face to the side, where he was met by an answering kiss on the bridge of his nose. To feel her husband's lips again was a breath of fresh air after a week of suffocation. Drowning in love, he found every movement a revelation that tore down all the walls between them. So stern in the service, and so sensual next to his husband.

For a moment Peter disappeared somewhere, rattling the kitchen cabinets, but very soon he returned with a wash cloth, soap and a clay ladle painted with flowers. He filled it with water and lightly pressed Anthony's forehead, forcing him to tilt his head back, and poured water on his hair. Much longer than ever, they reached to the shoulder blades, the beard also grew, and resembled the face of a priest of the Christian church. Peter's fingers gently touched his soaked strands, he took the soap and lathered them, caressing the scalp and neck. There was a sweet smell of milk and green millet, Anthony closed his eyes and exhaled, smiling broadly. He listened to the splashing of water, the measured breathing of his husband and ... a baby crying.

Startled, Stark immediately straightened up and turned to Peter. The man stared back at him with fright and obvious worry, his palms still covered in foam, as well as Anthony's hair. While the baby's crying became more and more hysterical, a thousand assumptions managed to flash through the man's head, none of which looked plausible enough.

"Peter," he croaked, forcing the words out of his throat with difficulty, "what's going on?"

Anthony watched as Peter immediately washed the foam off his hands and, with a pained expression on his face, squeezed the rim of the bucket with his fingers, not daring to touch his spouse.

“Tony, I'll explain, I promise …” he bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut when the child's voice broke into a scream. “Just… Please come to the west room when you're done.”

Without waiting for an answer, he literally stormed out of the kitchen, leaving shocked Stark behind. He sat without a single movement, listening to the baby's crying subside, Peter's quiet singing is heard. He didn't understand anything, each subsequent thought seemed more absurd than the other, so he shook his head and washed the foam from his hair, then began furiously soaping his body. Without the presence of his husband, Anthony finished pretty quickly, got out of the bucket, pouring water almost all over the floor, and wiped himself with a towel, which was waiting for him on the nearest chair. He wanted to immediately rush to Peter and find out what had happened while he was gone, ideas about cheating came into his head, but he forced himself to get dressed and pull a shaving blade out of the locker. He filled a bucket with soapy water from a bucket and pulled his hair into a knot at the back of his head, securing it with a piece of cloth that he tore off from the hem of an overly long shirt. The man took a deep breath, looked into the murky reflection of a small mirror on the bedside table, lathered his beard abundantly and held the blade, revealing a pale strip of skin. He rinsed it in water and shaved part of his beard again. He methodically got rid of his coarse dark hair, thereby drawing a line between the past and the present, leaving the horrors of war and battles in the past. Something worse than death awaited him in the uncertain future, but Anthony stood in the kitchen, as if nailed to the floor, and shaved, breathed deeply, banished all doubts, tried to think sensibly. He allowed himself the luxury of stalling for time, but now his face was smooth and clean again, a familiar man was looking at him from the mirror, which he had been before leaving for the other end of the Kingdom, and the inevitability was already breathing down his back. 

Anthony sighed and poured the dirty water back into the bucket, put the remaining dry wash cloth, blade and soap back into the closet and looked around, absorbing the unchanged environment with his eyes. In the corner is a voluminous stove, brilliantly painted with drawings of nature: trees, flowers, animals, so alive that the deer looked like he would start prancing, and the flowers would open their buds. All kinds of cabinets were lined up against the walls, where kitchen utensils, food, medicinal herbs and tinctures could be found. A little further from the centre was a sturdy wooden table and four chairs with soft wool cushions. Often in winter he and Peter would make tea, sit opposite each other and talk, play chess or cards, just be silent, basking in the warmth of the stove and the softness of the blankets on their shoulders. Stark pushed the memories away and strode out of the kitchen, quickly crossing the house and finding himself in front of the bedroom door in the west wing. The next door is his and Peter's room, and this one is obviously a nursery.

He bit his lip, not daring to take up the carved handle. The breath was taken away, the lower abdomen was twisted from nerves, tired shoulders trembled noticeably. Anthony didn't want to give free rein to his feelings, but fear settled like a sticky goo in his chest and gathered in a lump in his throat. So fearless on the battlefield, now the great commander has become a frightened sheep in the face of the unknown. He did not know what was waiting for him behind that door: whether he would lose what he had cherished so carefully for many years, or find something valuable and dear to his heart. Stark took a deep breath, closing his trembling eyelids, and still opened the door to the room, crossing the threshold with more fear than ever.

Previously almost empty, the small room now resembled heaven on earth. Bright, with blooms of various plants crawling along the wall; nappies are stacked on a bedside table by the window next to quilted toys made of soft-looking fabric. Peter was standing by the open window, his back to the door, swaying slightly from side to side, his head slightly tilted down. The July breeze ruffled the air curtains, filled the room with freshness and the smell of hyacinths from the flower bed at home. His heart skipped a beat, the boards creaked under Anthony's heavy step. Peter immediately turned around — and his heart stopped for a second once again, but not from fear, but from the picture before his eyes.

Dressed in loose clothes, barefoot, with chocolate curls on top of his head, the witcher was holding a little girl in a white shirt and tiny socks in his arms. Still toothless, she drooled a small fist, turning her head to Anthony. She looked about three months old, and the baby was adorable. The man noticed that she had the same big brown eyes as Peter, which caused a dull pain in her chest.

"Pete," Stark croaked and took another step towards him, but stopping at a sufficient distance from his spouse, "please… What does it mean?”

Peter looked as if he had stepped off the canvases of the great masters of painting. In the light of the midday sun, he seemed to be a living embodiment of Christian icons; hope and immense love splashed in his eyes. Now it was clear to Anthony what had changed the witcher so much in these ten months — the child. A tiny human being turns anyone's life upside down, irrevocably changes everything. But, gods, how fatherhood suited Peter…

"I- I didn't tell you because I wanted to surprise you."

“A- surprise me? What do you mean?”

"I found out a few weeks after you left.”

“So the conception happened while I was still here?”

“Obviously. But I didn't bother you because I knew that you would immediately snap and rush home. Still, duty comes first. That's why I didn't write anything in the letters.”

“How you- Why did you do this to me? Does my love mean nothing to you?”

"It means everything to me! I was afraid of losing you!”

“Do you think that everything has changed now, and you are not losing me?”

“I was hoping you'd be happy.”

“What? The appearance of some child in our house?”

“I thought you wanted children.”

“I want children. But this… This is completely different.”

“How is it different? Does the fact that I carried and gave birth to a child make me a smaller person than I was? You think the same about women, don't you?”

“Wait,” Anthony raised his hand and widened his eyes in surprise, “this is- Is this baby from your womb?”

“What other womb should she be from?” Peter would have already flared up, but having a child in his arms left him only blushing with anger and misunderstanding, talking in lowered tones.

“I thought… I thought you have someone else.”

As soon as those words left Stark's mouth, he immediately regretted it. Peter's eyes flew open, his mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out of his throat. He immediately put the baby in an elegant cradle suspended on long ropes, and approached his husband, stopping at arm's length. The Witcher looked with wet eyes into Anthony’s, as if searching for an answer there, while the commander stood motionless, unable to look away.

"I guess we haven't lived together long enough for you to fully understand that magic is not just incantations," Peter said softly, his tone sending goosebumps down Anthony's skin. “Our union is irreversible, it will be dissolved only by death. And death will follow the one who lies with another. Have you forgotten the ritual? Have you forgotten the day when we bound our souls into one?”

No, he hadn't forgotten. Even if he tried, Anthony would never forget the summer solstice, a tall bonfire in a clearing in the middle of the forest that seemed to whisper something in an ancient language in a quiet breeze. They are with Peter, almost naked, in the centre, and around them the Magical people and the inhabitants of the forest — animals, mavkas, spirits. He will always remember their blood spilled at the ritual stone, how melodious words of the spell poured out of the wizards' mouths. That day, Peter's patterns changed, acquiring a new shape, and an amber glow settled in his own chest — an echo of his husband's magic that settled in him forever during the ritual. Then they merged into one whole, indestructible, and both felt it. The festivities continued until the morning, the air was saturated with happiness, magic and the smell of ginger ale that hit everyone's heads — both people and mythical creatures.

"I could never," Anthony protested just as quietly and rubbed his eyes wearily with his fingers. It seemed like a quarrel, and they had never fought before — not so much.

"Then why do you have doubts about my loyalty? You don’t trust me?”

“I trust you as myself. But what was I supposed to think? I've been gone for ten months, you've been suspended in my last weeks at home. In the letters — silence, and now you have a baby in your arms!”

“But it explains the reason for my nervousness then, before leaving. And you're going to fight, damn it! I know that no one will kill you while I'm alive, but it doesn't calm me down in any way!”

Peter raised his voice, waving his hands. Two tears ran down his cheeks, gathering into a drop on his chiselled chin, and Anthony could not stand it. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pressed him to himself, immediately burying his nose in the curly crown, inhaling the soothing smell of metal and herbs.

"I understand, my love. But... you should have told me.” 

“Yes, I know. But this idea is about how surprised and delighted you will be when you come home and find out that I wasn't the only one waiting for you… It was too good to let it go.”

At that moment, Anthony felt as if he had been hit on the head with a butt. Of all the words spoken, he could not bear the main thing — he has a daughter. This thought made him inhale loudly and pull Peter away from him. Now it was him who was looking for an answer in his eyes and praying to everything on which the world stands that this was not a stupid joke.

“This is- This is my baby…”

His voice was full of disbelief, his eyes radiated every doubt, settled in Anthony's soul. Peter grinned affectionately and wrapped Stark's face in his palms, gently stroking the skin with his thumbs.

“Yes. This is your baby. Our daughter.”

Tears poured from his eyes like a river, his knees buckled from sudden weakness, and his lips stretched into the widest smile. Peter immediately grabbed him by the waist when the man began to sink to the floor, and he hugged him again, snuggling tightly to his chest, which shuddered from small quiet sobs.

“We have a daughter,” he whispered into Peter's white shirt, squeezing the fabric on his back, “our child.  My baby.”

“Yes, you're a father now,” a smile could be heard in the witcher's trembling voice, he gently stroked his husband's head, trying not to unravel the knot on the back of his head.

“You did it all by yourself.”

“Well, not without help. There were times when Mavkas came to rock her, and the trees sang lullabies. May practically lived here for the first weeks after birth, Stephen and Wanda became frequent, their help was invaluable. I wasn't alone.”

“I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being around everyone except me.”

Peter lifted Anthony's head and kissed his salty cheek, getting their foreheads together and stroking his sinewy neck.

“You're always there.”

They stood there until they lost track of time. A minute or an hour passed — none of them knew. Anthony was just enjoying the warmth that Peter surrounded him, and he was trying to realize that his beloved was finally at home. But after a while, Stark carefully pulled away from his husband and looked at him with hopeful eyes.

"Can I-" he began hesitantly, "can I hold her?"

A slightly tense Peter relaxed after these words and smiled, biting his thin lower lip.

"Of course," he breathed, and immediately went to the cradle. The baby was already sweetly cunning, lying on her back and clenching her tiny fists, but he still carefully picked her up and kissed her lightly on the forehead, stroking the tummy hidden by the magpie. He went up to the frightened spouse and held the child to his hands; the girl immediately opened her eyes and sobbed briefly, but Peter immediately cooed soothing words to her, so she calmed down. “Come on,” the witcher encouraged Anthony, “don't be afraid. She doesn't have teeth to bite yet.”

He smiled nervously and still took the baby in his arms, gently pressing her to his chest. She looked a little scared from the presence of someone formerly unknown, but Peter was there, quietly talking to her. A dark strand fell out of the knot at the back of Anthony's head and fell on his face, the tip touched his daughter's rosy cheek, to which she shuddered and grabbed his hair with enviable strength, knocking out a painful hiss from Stark. The witcher laughed softly and carefully untangled a strand from the grip of a tiny palm, and then gently tucked it behind his ear.

“Still have to get a haircut, dear.”

Anthony just smiled nervously and hesitantly raised his palm to the girl's face. Rough calloused fingers next to the most delicate milky skin looked awkward and stupid; it seemed blasphemy to desecrate something so pure and innocent by touching with hands that mercilessly tore heads off shoulders and pierced hearts with a sword. At that moment, his whole life ceased to have any meaning. Military service, which he considered a matter of honour, became just a justified murder and a mechanism for subjugating the disobedient. She painted his hands with blood, which he did not want to leave on his daughter's life. All that he had experienced in his long life was boldly done with just a wave of the long reddish eyelashes that framed the child's eyes. The same as the love of his life. She looked at him with curiosity and incomprehension, her hands reached up to explore a new face, the rounded tummy was heaving steadily from breathing. Holding his daughter in his arms, Stark realized that he would never be able to return to the way it was before, and that he loved this baby more than anything in the world. She was in his life for only an hour, but during that time he realized that he was ready to die for her. Love at first sight still exists — the love of a parent for their child. 

"What's her name?" Anthony croaked, on the verge of tears. He didn't shed a tear in the war, but this morning he cried so many times that it would be possible to sprinkle the fields.

 Peter laughed nervously. "She doesn't have a name yet.”

This statement deeply shocked the man.

“What do you mean, she doesn’t?”

“ I was waiting for you so that we could choose a name together.”

The Witcher looked slightly nervous, running his fingers over his daughter's fluffy head, and did not notice how Anthony's face softened, and he smiled the happiest smile.

"It's a great honour," he whispered, and Peter smiled back. “How about… Susan?”

 Peter wrinkled his nose.

“Anna?”

“Another Anna? Soon, half the city will start turning their heads to this name.”

“Emilia?”

“No. This doesn't fit.”

“Patricia?”

“You can't do this to our child.”

“Well then… Morgan.”

Peter thought for a moment.

"Morgan," he finally said.

“Morgan?”

“Morgan Maria Parker-Stark.”

"Perfect," Anthony said on an exhale and bent over his daughter, leaving a long kiss on her forehead. The baby smelled of milk and metal, the sweet smell of a baby with a hint of tartness that her father possessed. “Hello, Morgan. I'm your dad," Morgan twitched her legs and twisted her mouth into a semblance of a smile. “This is the happiest day of my life.”

Stark looked up with sparkling brown eyes at Peter, who looked back at him with such love that it took his breath away. With his free hand, Anthony caught his husband's fingers and brought them to his lips, kissing the fragile protruding knuckles. He took a ragged breath and leaned against his shoulder, looking at his daughter from the side.

“Welcome home, my love,” Peter said quietly, leaving a warm kiss on Anthony’s neck, “we’ve been waiting for you for so long.”

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

Do you think Taehyung and jungkook are as close as they seem?

It would never occur to me to say that they aren't close. People who've been friends for ten years and have shared as many important experiences as they have, it's inevitable to be close. I think it would actually take effort to not be close.

You'd see Jungkook leaning his head on Hoseok's or Jin's shoulder because he's sleepy or tired, and nobody questions if he's close to them or not. A similar moment he had with Jimin years ago was even the reason a lot started shipping jikook and seeing "intimacy" between them. So I take it at face value and as a sign of him being close to Taehyung when he does it with Taehyung as well.

Everyone has a different definition of closeness, too. I personally cannot fathom two men their age being as physically affectionate with each other as taekook are, to find out they don't like and love each other. It's why the formality and seriousness of the ITS talk has always been confusing to me, and I don't care that much anymore, but it was troubling to put it some way, and it irrevocably changed what I thought of Jungkook.

I'm talking about cuddling on award shows with millions watching, back hug and leaning on shoulder, sitting on lap, all of that happened before the conversation; the night right after the conversation Taehyung went and got into Jungkook's bed and slept with him for a while, too. Try and find me two men their age who aren't close or don't want to be close do that. No man would allow another guy getting into his bed like that if they aren't close or they don't like each other.

For some people, being close to someone refers only to emotional attachment. For others, it's more about physical engagements. For others, both emotional involvement AND physical, tangible acts of affection have to go hand in hand.

A lot of people (jikookers) claim taekook aren't close because they don't spend time together off camera, or because they don't seem to keep up with what the other is doing, or because they don't show up for each other's birthdays.

On that same line of thought, think about Jin and Jungkook, and vmin too while we're at it. You have Jin and JK who are touching literally all the time. You put them next to each other and they will be touching. But they never talk seriously. They've never mentioned getting together and hanging out and just having conversations, yet nobody doubts that they're close; in fact, they're probably one of the most like duos by army. I remember in 2019 there was a poll in one of those pages like koreaboo and Jinkook won as the closest members. Based on what? It's 2022 and Jin and JK didn't have each other's numbers for months, but people see them hugging and they forget all of that. And it's valid. I understand that they forget and I even agree. I forget too.

Something very similar happens with taekook, because them being physically close and affectionate and sweet are the only things we can see and know, and it's somehow a quantitative variable. It's something tangible, something that people see and understand. When people say that body expression makes up for whatever % of communication, they're not lying. Body language CAN be deceiving and misinterpreted and it shouldn't make or break anything, but try and find me one, just ONE person in the world who sees a hug and thinks "they aren't close". If you find one person who sees two people hugging and thinks they must be enemies, I'll literally give you all my life savings (like 10 dollars). Skinship might not be the only parameter to gauge relationships or the only answer, but it's not like it means nothing. For anyone who's been born and raised on this Earth, affectionate touches do mean something.

Then there's vmin, too. I don't remember Taehyung being there for any of Jimin's birthdays. I don't remember Jimin being there for Taehyung's birthdays. But they're soulmates, right? You'd be close to getting stoned if you said they aren't bffs. They don't hang out off schedule, either. They aren't even that touchy with each other. So with vmin you don't have that much skinship, or seeing each other off work, or going to birthdays. Just days ago I saw a tweet from a jikooker, it had a couple thousands of likes, and they said something about vmin threatening jikook. But they're also one of those people that was like "Taehyung wasn't there for Jungkook's birthday".

There's yoonmin, too. They don't hang out together off work, never been with each other for their birthdays, they have 0 skinship, literally zero, and yet they're one of the indisputable closest people in the group, according to the General Population of Army.

I think people look for patterns and think they see patterns when there aren't, or rather, they're not that significant and they don't present conclusive facts about any relationship in BTS.

I've never known of one single time Jungkook was there for Jimin's birthday, yet Jimin was there for a lot of his. We just assume that it's mutual and JK shows up for Jimin because this type of back and forth is what any of us is used to in healthy friendships, but if we're talking facts, there's nothing about JK ever showing up at Jimin's for his birthdays.

And while we're at the topic of birthdays and hanging out together off schedule, I think that's mostly a personality thing. 2seok, namseok jihope, we've known of all them hanging out publicly or even meeting and drinking together at home, I've lost count of the times Namjoon said he'd meet Jimin late at night just this year. It's like the common denominator for meeting with people it's Hoseok, and maybe Jimin; the common denominator for not meeting are Taehyung, and yoongi.

I still remember festa 2020 Hoseok's voice going some octaves higher when he was telling them about yoongi asking him to hang out because he just couldn't believe yoongi did that. But sope this sope that, right?

I'm Jimin's same age and I don't see myself being intimately affectionate or even putting myself in a "vulnerable" position with someone I don't trust or I'm close with. I care deeply for the people I care about, and I've maintained deep, important friendships with the same people for most of my life. Otherwise, I'm honestly quite indifferent to people.

But maybe Jungkook and Taehyung don't need years of knowing and talking with someone to feel close to them. Maybe it's easy for them to be affectionate and "vulnerable" (in a way) with each other. JK was friends with Mijoo for no more than a couple of months and they seemed like they got close in short time, so I believe physical affection is probably the way he shows he's close to someone.

If JK "pushes" songdeuk's hand away is because he's being a boyfriend, if Jimin takes the role of comforting JK he's being a boyfriend, but when Jimin touched JK's head last live, Taehyung just made Jimin remove his hand, so what do we do with that information. I guess that's Taehyung being a boyfriend, then. Not to mention that it's not the first time Jimin has to step aside or look away so tk can have their moment, because it's been happening since late 2019.

So, again it's a matter of patterns about their personal private lives, which we know nothing of, that people seem to pick up on, and I understand what they see, but ultimately I don't think they mean much. I think it's mostly all just circumstantial or simply their personalities. I do see taekook acting like friends, all the time, literally all the time. And if they're not actually close, but they make it seem so, then what does that mean?

[starryeyedkid]

finally back 5/15/22

jesus tits i have so much to say

i have a boyfriend now. we've been together for a little over 2 months now. i'll call him elijah. believe me when i tell you that he is truly the sweetest man i have ever known. he treats me like a queen and i honestly don't deserve him. i've known him for 9 years and yet i'm only realising now how much i could love him. i'm such an idiot. i'll make another post about him soon.

i joined my school's danceworks team. our final performance is on june 3rd, so thats great. if that wasn't enough to tire me out i also joined my school's track and field team. i'm only really interested in doing javelin or shotput, so at least my legs won't be entirely worn out.

EUPHORIA SEASON 2 HERE ARE MY THOUGHTS 1)okay so jules and rue got together kinda which was great, but jesus jules is so problematic this season. like she cheated on rue, again, with the guy that she accused rue of having a crush on. AND after she claimed to no longer be interested in men. like bestie what are you on you were my favourite in season one now ur just letting everyone down 2) elliot is kinda a useless character, i get he was put in to represent someone who enables bad behaviour (in this case rue's addiction) but istg it just seems like he was there for the sole purpose of giving rue and jules problems in their relationship. i will say, however, i didn't mind his song. a lot of people were hating but those people just wanted to see maddy beat the shit out of cassie 3) cassie WHAT THE fUCk okay like it's not just that she hooked up with her best friends ex, she hooked up with her best friend's abuser. she knew the kind of hell nate put maddy through and yet she still pursued. i think she'll get a redemption bc what her character represents is so important, but god it was so satisfying watching maddy beat her tf up. she deserved it. 4) lexi is like the best character this season. her play, while questionable at times, shows how rue's addiction impacted everyone in her life, not just herself and her family. the parts she included about cassie were fucked up, but like fez said, some people need to get their feelings hurt. lexi was even hesitant about showing the school in the first place. honestly i loved lexi this season, she got the recognition she deserved and i hope that her and rue can work things out again. same for her and fez, i love them. 5) FEZCO>>> okay so his backstory was a perfect start to the series again. he deserved a backstory episode more than anyone and i absolutely loved it. it started with that hallway and ended in that hallway, iykyk 6) kat. deserved. MORE. i dont know what happened between her and sam levinson but her story arc deserved more. she introduced toxic positivity within social media but that was about it. they wasted her completely and i'm angry 7) no one can say that euphoria glamorizes drug use after episode 5. its so raw and emotionally complex, it brought me to tears and zendaya deserves that emmy more than anyone. i can't even begin to describe its layers without going on for hours. 8) bye mckay, you were raped purely for shock value. sorry man. 9) this season was like, really messy. it wasn't that bad, but it had the unfair task of living up to season 1- a masterpiece. i just hope season 3 is worth the wait.

i took a break from tumblr because i just didn;t have the time to formulate my thoughts into it. but, i love this. it's my diary and i want to check in more often. bye for now <3

[bbq-hawks-wings]

Chapter 316: BBQ is capable of critiquing BNHA and… Oh boy.

Let's start this off properly, Horikoshi's typical quality of writing has been diminishing in recent chapters, but this week it was so different that it didn't even feel like Horikoshi was the one who wrote it.

To be clear, I'm not blaming Horikoshi for the issues I'm about to bring up. The man is criminally overworked, usually doesn't even get the final say in what makes it in the final drafts, and even in his other rough patches he's still produced decent chapters that hold up amongst the grand scheme of things. This feels like something else is going on behind the scenes, and while I have my suspicions on who/what might be the culprit behind it, I choose not to share it at this time because if I name names some people might go off on a crusade, and that's not what I want.

I just want to be clear that I'm not blindly firing off shots in the dark, but despite my frustrations I want to wait to see if this gets resolved down the line, and while I do I can complain about the specific reasons this chapter left such a bitter taste in my mouth.

Buckle up, buttercups, because we got a lot of points to cover.

Where's the Gun?

Not a literal gun, but I mean Chekhov's Gun. It has always been a staple of Horikoshi's writing and the reason so many of his long-standing plot lines have paid off so well.

Chekhov's Gun is a writing principal that if you see a gun on the table in the first act of a play, it will be used in the murder that happens in act 2. Basically, the author should include details that are relevant to the story and not betray the audience by leading them in one direction and at the last minute pull the rug out from underneath them to go in another direction.

Horikoshi has done this to phenomenal success in the past. Just as one example, he dropped hints about Nomu being human experiments early in the series but held off explicitly stating it for a while. He hinted at the loss of Shirakumo in the main narrative and that he was important to Aizawa and Mic as well as approved it for Vigilantes so when it was revealed that Kurogiri was Shirakumo's body, not only did it narratively make sense but it also pulled in Eraserhead and Present Mic's emotional stakes into the battle with the Doctor, and then when Ujiko reveals he was after Aizawa's quirk the whole time it made the payoff for Mic punching him in the face all that much better and brings the weight of his crimes and the impact they have on the victims full circle.

That's 3 different guns paying off in the long run: the Nomu, Shirakumo, and both Mic and Eraserheads' personal arcs past the loss of their childhood friend and that they could finally finish processing their grief and avenge him in full righteous fury instead of chalking it all up to cruel chance.

He has left details, some particularly innocuously, in plot lines like the Touya Todoroki reveal, Hawks' backstory, Shigaraki's blood connection to Nana Shimura, even with Mr. Compress's backstory, and more. When re-read, these details become more obvious and usually leaves us with a greater sense of satisfaction in the plot knowing that twists and turns were not only planned, but built up to and hinted at for us to find so the payoff is that much better and it feels purposeful instead of just shock factor.

None of that happened this chapter.

Lady Nagant has zero business being in this plotline. She was never hinted about before this arc, and her existence does nothing to tell us about the plot moving forward or the world that they're trying to change. Nothing her existence provides actually has any bearing on the universe or tells us anything we don't already know. But that's not how she was presented.

In the beginning we're given a glimpse of her helping Overhaul escape from Tartarus. The focus on her was odd enough to begin with as a new character, and the fact that she didn't look like she fit the profile of someone who belonged in Tartarus was like a flashing neon sign saying, "Pay attention! This new character is important!!!" She then shows up later with Overhaul in hand to attack Deku out of the blue. We get her talking about how she thought Overhaul might be useful and her disillusions with Hero Society. We catch her mannerisms with eery similarity to Hawks only to find out immediately after she was a senior colleague in the HPSC. Never once to my knowledge has Hawks referred to any of his senior colleagues as a "senpai" - not even his fellow heroes - and when he catches her in midair, he uses the words, "Don't die on me, senpai!" as if she's near and dear to his heart.

The entire character arc is set up for her to have known about Hawks and grapple with her desire to help people and her fear of re-creating what she hated, and this also set up Hawks to be the successor who succeeded where she failed and helped bring her to a place where she could be a hero without guilt again. What actually happened?

They're strangers.

They have never actually met before, and while he seems to know a lot about her, she doesn't even seem to have any idea of who he was - at least as far as being another hero under the thumb of the HPSC. So ALLLL that setup, all that gesturing, and all of the potential themes that would be right at home in an arc like this goes completely out the window.

Her story doesn't tell us anything new. The HPSC bad. We knew that. They're not above throwing innocents under the bus to achieve that goal. We knew that. They preyed upon young hopefuls with powerful quirks with the intent to maintain the status quo. We knew that even if the fact that Hawks isn't the only one now makes more questions than answers. We know that these young heroes can never say no under threat of steep, life-shattering consequences. We knew that already.

So what does Lady Nagant even bring to the table?! The entire "you're just a puppet doing what you've been told" angle is a little tired and out of place in this point and time with actual anarchy in the streets (not to mention hypocritical considering she was a blind puppet following orders and offers zero actual solutions that supposedly fall in line with her heroic nature), and it could have been left to any number of other villain characters who could have executed on the theme better - you know, like Shigaraki who's justification this entire time has been, "hero society doesn't make people safe, it just makes them feel safe" from the moment of his inception.

So from that angle she's unnecessary.

Her presence messes with the continuity of the series as well. If Hawks is supposed to explicitly replace her, that would mean that he wasn't just a fluke find on the commission's part and grabbed to mold into their own special superweapon; and that also would mean that her killing of the former president was before he was discovered which should put her at least in her forties. If this isn't the case, and he was meant to simply replace her in a "special agent" case, that still begs the question of how many more gifted children the commission preyed upon and are still out there.

And maybe the worst kicker for me is that something stinks. The way the art in this chapter is presented, if you completely blanked out the speech bubbles, is the same setup I had before - Hawks reaches out to his former mentor and pulls her from the brink of despair with a moving message about why he never gave up hope in being a hero who could actually make a difference.

Again, this is not what we got. He claims he knows her, and it's implied to have been a deep, personal character witness; but at best he only knows about her from secondhand sources. Even his reasoning as to how he never lost hope doesn't vibe with his character.

We have gotten so many cool one-liners for Hawks, but there has always been a consistent tone and imagery with them.

"Those who can fly, should."

"I don't belong in a cage."

"I'm free of my shackles."

"Can I be a shining light, just like him?"

What we got was, "I'm an optimist to a fault" which was the wording the official release went with and was by far the best iteration I have seen, but even this falls short of being truly in character for him and answering her question properly.

@mikeana made an edit of the titular panels for us Hawks stans this week with dialogue we and a few other friends felt was more fitting not only with the imagery of the chapter itself but internally consistent with the specific expressions Hawks uses in his heartfelt, personal dialogue. I just tweaked it a little bit more to fit what I was going for in our original conversation.

Which brings me to another concern.

2. What's the point?

There was no use for Nagant in the series as she's been presented so far. But more than that, Hawks has no business in this fight to begin with. He literally did nothing to earn this emotional moment, and this should have been Deku's moment.

We were teased in an interview with Horikoshi that Hawks was going to get a special moment as an important end-game character as a "shining light" of hope for others to follow as well as promises for Ochako to have another moment in the spotlight to make a difference.

If this was Hawks' shining light moment, it wasn't necessary, and it does nothing to move the plot forward or develop characters in any true or believable way. It just happened because plot. This should have been Deku's victory through and through, and even he is the reason BOTH Hawks and Nagant made it out alive instead of painting the street below them.

Deku's victory was stolen from him, too. It sours the other promises made to us about other characters moving forward, as well, if this really was Hawks' "Shining Light" moment.

By the way, did you forget about Overhaul? Me too!!! What was the point of getting our hopes up about reintroducing this beloved character with the implications this was a major arc setup to have him scream about pops and then get detained with no clues about what's going to happen to him besides, "Say you're sorry to Eri, and you get to see pops"?!

All this posturing and clumsy narrative flailing only actually succeeded in getting Deku in front of AFO again for plot when we already know Mr. Potato Head could summon, show himself to, or find Deku at any time he wanted. But instead we get this time skip with a bunch of heroes completely mended walking into a big, spooky mansion for AFO to evil monologue at Deku for… *counts*

FOUR PAGES!!!

Only to then give him the "I want YOU!" point over a pre-recorded message and the final nail in the coffin to me that something is off.

3. Ex-pu-LOOOO-SHUN!

It's become almost a game among friends to count how many explosions have happened since the end of the war arc - and specifically fake-out explosions. In the end of 311 we get All Might's car attacked via explosion and Deku cornered by Nagant only for All Might to be fine in the next chapter. In 315 Lady Nagant herself explodes in a blaze of glory to once again not be dead.

Gee! I wOnDeR if aLl the heroes were AcTuAlLy cornered and KiLlEd in that explosion in the mansion!

None of us do. They're fine. We're going to see it first thing next week. The shock has worn off, and it's repetitive and annoying at this point. There is no cliffhanger despite how the framing might try to tell you otherwise.

It's BAD WRITING.

The writing has been moving far too quickly and clumsily with no explanation in sight, and even character interactions are being cut short to the point of them being meaningless and empty.

This doesn't even feel like Horikoshi's bad writing. It feels like someone else is trying to call the shots and rushing him through these final bits of the series, and he's run out of things he's previously set up for months and months to reappear so someone is trying to get Dabi-reveal levels of attention with arcs and storylines that don't have the build-up to result in a satisfactory payoff.

4. At least it can get better... I hope.

Maybe those who share my suspicions or know what particular suspicions I have are with me in believing that this is a temporary disappointment and we haven't seen the last of the writing that's captivated me for years. I don't blame Horikoshi for these glaring faults that all came to a head in this chapter.

It CAN get better later, and I think it WILL- we just probably are going to have to wait for it. Until then, I'm going to enjoy the Hawks panels we got, maybe edit the last few chapters to be more in line with something more like the BNHA I know in a "fix it fic" fashion so I don't groan in anticipation of how long it might take us to get there.

See you all next week, hopefully on a much brighter note.

[xpeachesncream]

restart | four

[ SEQUEL TO PERFECTLY WRONG ] | [ series masterlist ]

summary: as you and taehyung start to build your life together post graduation, things become more complicated than what you expected it to be. while taehyung struggles with his inner demons, you’ve become the sole supporter, the pillar, juggling different jobs to keep you two afloat. your love for each other has been put to the test as your relationship continues to face hurdles - hurdles that have you questioning whether or not your relationship will make it through.

pairing: reader x fiancé!kth

genre: post grad au, established relationship au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 4.8k

warnings: cussing/mature language, jealousy, lots of insecurities and overthinking, angst, crying, bar scene, alcohol consumption, flashback scene in the middle of the chapter, a lil sprinkle of fluff, implied sexual content, bickering/arguments

note: honestly, this was ALSO not supposed to get this long but like… 🙃 here we are lol

tags: @enchantaeduniverse​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @sapphirejeon​ @jwlmnbt​ @bluesharksandfish​ @ra-mun-e @brightcolorsoffendme​ @jungcrookthecookbook​ @sunniejinnie​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

"Okay, I think that's it." You said, hands on your hips as you and Jungkook walked through your door for the final time.

"What are you selling, the world?" He huffs and puffs.

"For someone who works out often, you complain a lot." He rolls his eyes playfully.

"Where's Tae?"

"Sleeping still." He nods.

"Oh, okay. Ready to go then?" You nodded silently as you grabbed your bag to hitch a ride to the café with Jungkook since he was working today. He starts to talk about the girl who works with you two and how he thinks she's a little cutiepie. He has such a silly crush on her that his cheeks are lightly rose tinted every time he talks about certain encounters they've had. You're happy to see him happy, and you tell him to keep pursuing it since she's a super sweet girl. However, part of you is sad solely because you couldn't say you were 100% happy at this moment. You wish you were, but these problems were hindering you from feeling complete. You just wanted to get past this page in the book.

As soon as you both get to the cafe, you start unloading his trunk and getting everything inside. Jungkook claims he has the last two bags covered, so you walk to the back and take breather just to gather yourself before setting up. But you truly didn't expect to lose it right then and there.

"Okay! I got all the— Y/N?" Jungkook instantly worries when he sees you crying into your hands in the backroom and hurries over to you. "Hey, woah. What's going on?" He gets in front of you, gently trying to pry your hands off of your face.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." You continue to cry as he successfully removes your hands from your face.

"Sorry for what? What's going on?" He wipes your tears with his sweater and lifts your chin to look at you in the eye.

"Nothing."

"The day barely started and you're already crying in the backroom." He says softly. "Don't try and lie to me."

"I just don't know what's going on between me and Tae and it's stressing me out."

"What's going on? Same stuff?" You nod, tears still streaming down your cheeks. You tell him about how he had been super weird about taking Jimin's help and how you both got into a huge argument about it. Then, you told him how last night ended [sparing your poor bestfriend the details] and how you couldn't help but feel used because he simply dismissed you, which is very unlike Taehyung when it comes to arguments and disagreements. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I know he's going through a rough time, but Tae also needs to respect you and look at you as his partner, not someone who's also attacking him or against him. Do you want me to talk to him?"

"No." Simply, no. Because you never get your friends involved like that. You just don't, no matter how much they wanna help. "He looks at me like I am, especially after this whole Jimin thing. I don't wanna say it's stupid because I don't wanna discredit his feelings, but god. Like, should I just do this on my own? Tell Jimin to forget it?"

"No." Jungkook shakes his head. "You're already getting a good start on your goals, Y/N. Don't let that go because of everything going on. Give him some time and space."

"I have been. For awhile now." You sat, feeling completely defeated already, tears still coming down your cheeks.

"Here, I'll go set up and I can take over the table for a bit. I'll ask Isabella if she can cover for a quick second." He stands in front of you, hands out to help support you as if you had lost your footing.

"No, I'll be fine—"

"Y/N, just sit. Okay?" He gives off a small sigh. "Just sit for a second and let yourself take a breather." He gently sits you down and makes sure you don't get up by slowly backing away from you.

"Kook, this isn't Marco Polo."

"I'm just trying to make sure you don't run off because you're stubborn!"

"Hey!" Isabella comes running in, a little confused as to what's happening.

"Hey, can you cover me at the front for a bit?" Jungkook stands back upright in a normal position to ask her sweetly, hands tucked behind his back as he bounced on his feet. This boy.

"Yeah, of course Jungkook." She blushes.

"Thanks. I'll be right back." He gives you a quick look before dashing off. You lay your head onto your arms as they rest on the table, a small headache forming at the center of your forehead.

"You okay, Y/N?" Isabella asks softly as she puts her things away.

"Yeah, sorry. Just a really weird day yesterday."

"I'm sorry." You feel her hand caress your back. "Let me know if you need anything, okay?" She says before shuffling herself out of the room. To be honest, you had no idea what was going on with you, and why you were feeling this way. You were just so sick and tired. Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

This was slowly taking a toll on you, and you weren't even sure if Taehyung realized what he was doing was hurting you in the process.

He can't say he does.

Tae set the weights down back onto the rack aggressively before sitting on the bench, watching Jimin finish his set. They had been working out after lunch, Jimin calling him shortly after Taehyung had fully woken up.

"Are you gonna go to the café after this?" Tae shrugged.

"I don't know, Y/N said she didn't need help and wouldn't be there all day."

"You won't even visit for a bit?" Jimin asks. Usually Tae was rushing to get back to you, but he knew everything that had been going on had been affecting your relationship to an extent.

"We'll see."

"You two coming to the bars tonight then?"

"What are we celebrating again?"

"Nothing. Just getting together like old times. I told Kook, Hobi and Yoongi. They're down." Tae nodded.

"Joon, too?"

"Joon, too."

"Me and Y/N will probably go but I don't think we'll stay long. She has to do that thing at the school—" He scratched his head. "The thing— the exhibit and talking to incoming art students or whatever." Jimin chuckled at how Tae couldn't get his words out.

"It's not whatever."

"You know that's not what I mean." Tae rolled his eyes at him, annoyed all over again at how Jimin had been kissing your ass lately. Cause fuck, the way Jimin had been painting himself as a knight in shining armor, an angel even, was pissing him the fuck off. It made him feel like he wasn't doing enough to support you, or like you couldn't turn to him for help. He hated that feeling, even though he had been rude as hell and showing it in a different way.

"That's fine. Just come out and hang out for a bit." Jimin sighed as he sat on the bench next to him, drinking some water before placing the bottle back down on the ground. "You two doing okay?"

"Yeah, what makes you think we aren't?" Tae asks, getting defensive. Jimin quickly eyes him, reading his body language. He knew Taehyung so well - so fucking well that he knew almost immediately when things were taking a toll on him. Things liiiike.. his parents. As a prime example. Jimin knew Taehyung and his parents obviously didn't have the best relationship, and he knew he took things to heart whenever his father got on him about stupid shit [just like he did over that dinner]. Taehyung wasn't one to show emotion much; he liked showing people he was mentally tough and that he could handle whatever came his way. For the most part, it was true. But, Jimin and Namjoon also knew he wasn't always like that, especially when it came to things that mattered the most to him - his family and you. Taehyung hated to admit it but his family's opinion of him was important no matter what. He was hard on himself because he wanted them to be proud. He wanted to actually feel like he had been doing something good for once. He was still longing for that feeling no matter what he said or did. It was a never-ending battle; like a plot with no happy ending in sight.

"I'm just asking." Jimin threw up his hands, showing that he wasn't suggesting anything behind the harmless question.

"We're fine. I know she's been stressed lately because of work and her art."

"Mmm."

"It's funny." Taehyung chuckles at himself.

"What's funny?" Jimin laughed a bit, confused.

"I didn't expect to be caught up in her like this. After Hana, messing around with all these girls. She's my fucking fiancé."

"Yeah and you better not fuck that up." Jimin stands to gather his things.

"You sound like my dad." Tae jokes, even though he was pretty offended.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to." Jimin instantly apologizes, knowing everyone had been walking on eggshells around Taehyung lately. "She's a good girl, you've got it good."

Taehyung softly smiles at the thought of you, but he wasn't gonna lie, he was hurt by Jimin's statement. Call him sensitive or whatever, but he wasn't feeling the fact that people were constantly looking at him as a fuck up and hinting at it. It seemed to be a reoccurring theme lately. "You ready?" Tae sighs before grabbing his stuff. They get into his car, departing from the gym to make their way to Jimin's so he can get dropped off before Tae heads home. Taehyung replays yesterday's events in his head, which instantly irks him all over again. But, he has such a soft spot for you that he feels terrible for having been too harsh about it. He was still upset, and he wasn't gonna let up on his feelings. But he knew he should have been better about how he approached it. He knew better than that. He's learned to do better.

➤ FLASHBACK

Taehyung excitedly parks his car at the café to surprise you for your pop up today. He had been working endlessly to finish off finals strongly, and he had been so busy that he hadn't really gotten a chance to help you or support you. He felt terrible about it because you were his babygirl and he wanted nothing but to spoil you for all the hardwork you've been putting in.

He creeps up behind you, bouquet of flowers hidden behind his back. "Excuse me, miss." He says lowly near your ear.

"Holy fuck!" You say as he startles you. "Babe, what the hell! Don't do that!" He laughs.

"What's cookin', goodlookin'?" He wiggles his eyebrows, making you chuckle. "These are for you." He smiles toothlessly as he hands you the pretty bouquet. "And your favorite!" He hands you a Mcflurry cup.

You squeal. "Oreo Mcflurry! Aw, thank you baby." You place a quick kiss on his lips. "But don't ever scare me like that!" You playfully hit his chest, causing him to erupt in laughter.

"You should've seen your face."

"Ha-ha, very funny." You rolled your eyes, causing him to pinch your cheeks.

"How's it going?"

"Welp, I'm almost out for the day." You giggle. "I, uh, may have underestimated." You look down at his hoodie, realizing it was one of the hoodies you had made for a previous collection you sold at Jin's. "Waaaow, cute sweater, who made it?"

"Mm, I don't know if you know her. Her name's Y/N."

"Uh huh?" You nod, hand on your hip, waiting to hear more.

"She stands about this tall." He lowers himself close to the ground, causing you to laugh. "Cute, right? She's beautiful, incredibly smart and sexy. Brilliant visual designer and illustrator. Packed with hella attitude." He pretends to ponder on his thoughts. "I could go on about her, really. She's one of a kind."

"Cute. She must feel lucky." You smile.

"I know, I'd feel lucky if I knew me too." You roll your eyes and playfully hit him. "Ah, I'm kidding." He pulls you into a hug. "I keep this sweater in my trunk."

"Oh, so you keep it in your trunk just for emergency wear?" You sarcastically ask as he holds you from behind.

"Yeah, and cause it's the only sweater I'd choose to wear out of the hundreds I own." You smile up at him. "Mhm, not gonna try and win that one." He places a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek before pulling away. "Show me. How can I help my pretty baby today?"

➤ END FLASHBACK

"Hey, I can't stay out late tonight because of the event tomorrow."

"Yeah, I know." Taehyung says softly.

"Please don't drink too much."

"I wooooooon't." He whines with a small sigh, also slightly offended at that statement. He didn't know what it was, maybe it was the fact that his own father painted him in such a negative light that everything seemed off to him lately. Like people were just out to get him or constantly looking down at him and his actions. A personal attack at who he was. It was slowly piling up for him and he wasn't sure how much more of it he could take.

You prepared a quick dinner while he hopped in the shower. You set his plate aside before taking a look at the mail that had come in today.

Bills, bills and more bills.

You sighed to yourself as it felt like you had just paid things off, but clearly not. Moving into Taehyung's wasn't the greatest idea, being that his space was much more expensive than yours. But, he did have the space you needed for your work. There was money left, but you knew it wouldn't last forever. You hated tapping into your savings and whipping out your credit cards because you wanted to keep yourself clean as much as possible. However, that was proven difficult as of late. It was a sacrifice, especially since Taehyung had cut off his mother's help. Taehyung's pride was such a curse sometimes.

You shook your head, already finalizing the fact that you would deal with it later. You had began to set your things aside for the new student event tomorrow morning. You figured you'd get there early to set up and make your table at neat and cute, so you didnt have to worry much about it right now.

Taehyung comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair slicked back and wet. You turn to face him, your eyes wandering down to his chest and bottom area. God, why was he so beautiful? It wasn't fair. You loved him so much that you could crumble even being upset. He talks a whole lot about you being the death of him, when really, this man is going to be the death of you. Truly. There's no debate about it.

Getting to the bar, you both immediately spot your friends in the corner, a huge tower of beer decorating the center of the table. Jimin is the first to stand, coming towards you two with a huge smile on his face.

"Friends!" Jimin yells. "Drink!" He says, holding up two shot glasses.

"Fuck, man." Taehyung says taking the glass. "We just got here."

"So! Y/N needs to be home early remember?" He watches wide-eyed as you two take the shot and make sour faces at each other.

"Okay, I'm good." You say, being that you were the DD tonight. Taehyung could enjoy himself if he wanted to [to an extent], but you definitely needed to be in tip top shape to be a good role model to those incoming art students tomorrow.

Throughout the night, the bar starts to get packed from end to end, you and your friends staying at the table and keeping to yourselves. You could tell Taehyung was crossing the line of pretty fucking drunk, which somewhat bothered you. You literally just told him to take it easy tonight - just for one night - so you could do what you need to do tomorrow.

"Hey." Jimin comes next to you, swinging his arm over your shoulder like he always does. "One more shot?" You give him a toothless smile. Ugh, why the hell not? Your man was drunk, and Jimin had only been helpful lately. You could at least return the favor by taking a shot with him.

"What are we drinking to?"

"You." He smiles. "Your shop. Your art. It'll only go up from here, yeah?" He rose his shot glass up before clinking it against yours and taking it to the neck.

"Mkay, that does it for me." You chuckle. "Thanks for the shot."

"No problem. You doing okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." You looked at your watch. "Should probably get out of here soon, but Tae looks like he's enjoying himself. I don't wanna drag him out of here."

"We can just bring him home." You shake your head worriedly.

"I don't wanna leave without him." Jimin chuckles and looks over at Taehyung.

"He'll be okay and you'll be just fine tomorrow. Besides, you can make up all the bullshit in the world to tell the incoming students, they'll believe it either way."

"That's mean." You chuckle.

"Come. Let's dance!" Jimin says, leading the way to the empty space near the table. Everyone gets up to dance, Taehyung slipping himself behind you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

"Can I at least get one minute with my lady without Jimin interrupting?" He says in your ear.

"Taehyung." You flatly say, looking back at him.

"That's your mad face." He holds you tightly from behind as he sways you from side to side.

"I'm not mad."

"Mhm." He kisses the back of your head. "Why don't you have fun with me for a little? We'll go home after this." You couldn't even stay mad at him, with that fucking frustratingly handsome face of his. He was definitely drunk though, you could smell the whiskey lingering on his breath as he danced with you for a bit. You let him be, just so you wouldn't trigger anything within drunk Taehyung. Everyone around you was having a good time, the feeling of nostalgia hitting you pretty hard. You missed the days where you could get together and go to parties after a long week of school. Or, when you would tease the fuck out of Taehyung as his fuckbuddy during parties, or at the clubs. You know, before graduation and responsibilities happened.

But as one hour turned into two, and two turned into three, you found yourself getting restless. It was nearing 2AM and you had to be at the school by 8am - even earlier just to set your table up. You made your way to the bathroom, hoping Tae would get the point and start getting himself ready to leave.

Right.

Once you were out the bathroom, he'd realize you had been gone for a little and start saying his goodbye's. He'd realize time got to the best of him. Right?

"It's a fucking good time tonight!" Jimin tells Namjoon, laughing with him as he watches Joon act a fool with his dance moves.

"I'm sure it is, since you've been in Y/N's space the entire night." Taehyung says it jokingly, but he doesn't realize it only comes off that way in his head. Jimin furrows his brows at him, his high quickly dying with Taehyung's unnecessary comment.

"Don't start with all that. Not tonight. Everyone's having a good time--"

"Or what, Jimin?" Taehyung chuckles like the petty ass he can be. "You know it's true. Don't you think it's a little disrespectful to be crossing boundaries?"

"Hey, let's step back for a bit." Jungkook lightly tugs on Taehyung's arm as he hears the conversation going south quickly. But Taehyung breaks from his grip, stepping forward towards Jimin.

"You really think I would do that to you?"

"Haven't you already? Swinging your arms around her and shit, being all angelic--"

"Tae, come on. That's enough. Don't." Namjoon steps in the middle. "Let's go outside to get some air."

"You really wanna make me look that bad in front of my own girl?" Jimin lightly pushes him away, Taehyung getting too into his space.

"Enough." Namjoon shakes his head, aggressively stepping in the way to create distance. Taehyung shakes his head and walks off, the rest of the group watching as he walks. You finish off in the bathroom, assuming Tae was already getting ready to go. However, you realize your assumption of leaving by the time you're back is absolutely incorrect because when you get to the table, Taehyung is nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Tae?" Kook looks at you frazzled, before his eyes begin to pan the room again.

"Look, don't freak out, but him and Jimin just got into it and he walked off."

"What the hell do you mean they got into it and he walked off?"

"It's nothing, Tae is just drunk—" Kook squeezes your wrist and shakes his head.

"No, it's not just nothing because you and I both know how he's been feeling lately." You run your hand through your hair. "What did he say?"

"He just got into it about Jimin getting close to you lately, and how he felt like he was disrespecting boundaries." You sigh heavily.

"Fuck."

"We have an issue." Namjoon comes back from out of the blue. "He's not around."

"What do you mean?! Where did he go?" You run your hand through your hair.

"Okay, let's not panic." Jungkook tries to relax you. "Let me go check the bathrooms." Namjoon nods as he continues to look around the room.

"Please? We should get home." He nods to you before he's off to check for Tae in the bathroom. You stand near the table awkwardly, worry filling you quickly the more time passes.

"Hey, you okay? What can I do?" Hobi squeezes your arm, his face flushed with a red tint from how tipsy he is. You give him a small, reassuring smile and nod to try and keep calm.

"I honestly don't know anymore, but I'll be good. I think. We're just gonna look for him and head home."

"Is Kookie looking in the bathroom?" You nod. At this point, you catch a glimpse of Jungkook coming back alone.

"Jungkook?"

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find him in there. I swear I tried."

"So, where the hell is he?" Jungkook shrugs.

"Lets check around again. I won't leave until we find him."

"Have you tried to call him?" You had already beaten Yoongi's question, calling Taehyung's phone only to see his phone vibrating and ringing on the fucking table. "Hm, okay. Maybe not."

"Fuck." You snatch Taehyung's phone from the table. "Is he serious right now? It's about to be 2:30AM. How the fuck can he get lost at this time?"

"Y/N just go home, we'll find him and bring him home." Jimin says, coming back from roaming around the place.

"No, I'm not leaving here without him."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen." He says, looking at you in the eye. Although he was pretty fucking pissed, he couldn't help but worry about him either. No matter what, that was still his bestfriend. He didn't want anything to happen to him.

"It's not your fault."

"We need to check around the neighborhood." Jungkook suddenly comes back and grabs your arm. You follow him, Yoongi, Hobi, Namjoon and Jimin outside of the bar, the cold hitting your skin harshly.

"Let's split." Namjoon says. Jimin and Hobi split, Namjoon and Yoongi sticking together to go down a different path. You kept yourself close to Jungkook, knowing there were all sorts of drunk ass men out at this hour and you weren't helping wearing a tiny ass skirt and a deep cut shirt.

"Cutiepie, let me come holla!" A dude yells as he tries to swing his arm around your waist. Jungkook easily pushes him off, glaring at him.

"Back the fuck up." He spits out, your bestfriend coming to your rescue amongst the sea of men you're encountering on the sidewalk right now. He throws his jacket over your shoulders, hoping to shield you from them and the cold. "Your outfit." Jungkook frowns, a little worried.

"I mean, I didn't expect to lose Tae tonight." Once you had gotten to a quieter part of the street, you come from behind to walk beside him. "Where the hell could he have gone?" You whine. You're more worried for his safety and wellbeing right now more than anything and all you wanted to do was find him and bring him home, even though you were slightly worrying about yourself and how things would go tomorrow. You could give him an earful later. It could wait.

"He couldn't have gone far." You both continue down the street, heading towards your car, hoping he may be around the area. Jimin calls to check in, saying him and Hobi hadn't caught sight of him yet, and the same thing goes for Yoongi and Joon. You almost want to cry when you don't see Taehyung near your car, but Jungkook ends up walking further down towards the park near your parking spot. "Y/N! Here!" He calls out, running towards an individual slumped over on their knees on a bench. "Taehyungie?" Jungkook sits next to him and shakes him a bit.

"Shit dude, I just kept walking then I suddenly had no idea where I was at." He drunkily says as you sit next to him and sigh heavily.

"No one said you had to do that, Tae."

"I just needed some air."

"Yeah and look where that got you, it's close to 3AM." You respond, irritated.

"Y/N." Jungkook says softly, shaking his head at you as if he were signaling for you to quit with your attitude. "Let's go back to the car." Jungkook watches him stand up and wobble a bit, but eases up when he realizes Taehyung is capable of walking himself to the car. You three get back safely, letting the others know that you had found him before driving Jungkook back towards the club so he can meet with everyone else. You quickly thank him for his support before driving off to head home.

The car is incredibly cold, and silent.

"Love, I'm sorry. I just needed air and got lost." He breaks the silence.

"I see that." You say softly as you drive home, keeping your eyes glued to the road in front of you.

3:23AM.

"Please don't be mad." He gives your thigh gentle squeeze. "I just got a little into my head tonight." You sighed, gently removing his hand from your thigh.

"Taehyung, I'm your fiancé, I'm doing this with you and only you. Do you even understand how worried I was? You just walked off, without your phone. Without saying anything to me. Just cause you got in your head for no reason."

"I'm sorry." He repeats at a whisper. You don't say anything else for the rest of the drive home. You silently park the car and head to the apartment, Taehyung sluggishly following behind you. He knows you're bothered, knowing it's closing to 3:30AM and you had an early morning. Honestly, he didn't realize how drunk he was until he had gotten himself into that argument with Jimin then got lost, especially without his phone. The fact that he had made you worry and stress like that made him feel terrible, especially after these past few days. You could have easily left, but you didn't leave without him even if it was this late. He instantly just wanted to cuddle you and tell you how sorry he was.

You quietly get ready for bed and line your things up by the door, just so it would be an easy quick and grab as you head out in the morning. You slip yourself into the sheets, Taehyung following shortly after he gets himself ready for bed. He shuts off all the lights and grabs himself a water bottle to sit by his nightstand before slipping in next to you.

"I love you." He whispers against your ear, wrapping his arms around you. But you don't respond. He peeks over to see your eyes shut, silently sighing to himself as he nuzzled his head against the nape of your neck. He knows you aren't fast asleep yet, and it hurts him that you hadn't said it back. You both just knew exactly how to love each other well, but also push each other's buttons. But, maybe, it was true - he was just fucking up left and right lately. Enough for you to go to bed without saying 'I love you' back.

undefined

'cause baby if i find a way, i'm sure of it, this love won't stray; just give me a chance to say i love you, and i need you. now are you here to stay, or fade away like every other day? you're the reason that i lie awake

track two: 3AM - finding hope

[qyllenhaal]

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

-

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

-

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

-

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

-

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

-

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

[margarethelstone-2]

if I loved you less (i might talk about it more)

requested by one and only @nerdypanda3126. thanks so much!

Read on AO3!

"Taichi... You still like me, don't you?"

The young man in question raised his eyes from the book he'd been trying to read for the past quarter, and fixed them on Chihaya, confused. It wasn't just the question that surprised him, even though its content sure would have been enough to puzzle a better prepared soul.

The fact that Chihaya had barely spoken at all for most of their time together today was the main reason why he felt startled by her words now.

She really had been quiet for most of the day, even though they were spending it at his place, determined, as she herself had claimed, not to get in the way of his studies. Taichi had tried to make her realise that it wasn't what he wanted at all, that the very reason he'd invited her over was to get a break from all the reading and just relax a little. He'd explained over and over again that he needed her to be a distraction; tried – unsuccessfully – to get it into her head that she was actually doing him a favour. He knew how much of a workaholic he could be and so he specifically planned the visit as a means to enforce the necessary break he might not have taken otherwise.

He had told her all of that. And yet, she'd remained quiet.

All the way until now, that is.

And just what on earth was she going on about?

"What's with that question? You know the answer to that," he replied casually, almost dismissively, before going back to the textbook in his hand. He really had no idea what had gotten into her all of the sudden, but then again, he didn't care to delve on the subject. He knew she'd tell him anyway.

"I was just wondering," she answered, a trace of hurt ringing in her voice; Taichi needed to hold back the smile that sprang on his lips at the sight of her pout. "Is it so bad if I do?"

Taichi hummed in thought.

"Is that why you've been so quiet all day?" he asked right after. "You've been just busy considering my possible affection for you?"

"Stop with the mockery. I'm thinking of it seriously."

"Oh? And what conclusions did you come to?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I'd come to any."

He had no choice but to close the book and put it away after a statement he'd just heard. Not that he minded. Throwing it on the floor rather carelessly, he sat up straight in his corner of the couch and, resting his chin on his palm, he fixed his gaze on the girl seated by his desk on the other side of the room.

She really was being impossible today.

Well, he supposed that wasn't anything new. He'd known Chihaya long and well enough to not be fazed by the swings in her mood or the inane schemes she so often came up with. He had learnt to expect the unexpected, every day, every hour of his otherwise boring life, because that was obviously the only way to keep up with her. The one thing he had to keep doing if he still wanted to be a part of her life.

Because that was how Ayase Chihaya was.

Chihaya. His best friend. His fiercest karuta rival. The girl he'd been in love with since fourth grade of primary school and the girl who'd rejected him straightforwardly at the very beginning of their third year in Mizusawa High. The girl whom he'd thought he could never win over, on whom he'd given up again and again, fooling himself he could move on and blight the love he'd had for her since he'd been a ten year old squirt.

He sighed and shook his head, remembering her question from a moment before.

She knew damn well he was still head over heels for her.

She was his girlfriend, for sanity's sake.

"I can't believe you actually have asked, you know," he picked up with the same fake weariness he'd shown before, if only to cover his growing amusement. Seeing her very real anxiety made him assume a more solemn expression, as he asked, "Seriously, what brought this on? Are you mad about something?"

"I'm not mad," she disagreed instantly, and with good emphasis.

"Are you unhappy then? Did I do something to make you feel like that?"

Again, she denied. Now she just looked sad. "That's not it."

Wrong. She was flustered.

"Then what is it?" Taichi asked, as gently and warmly as he could. Not for the first time, he felt grateful for all the hard training his patience had received. It was obvious that Chihaya needed that from him now. "It's not like I could get over you like this, you of all people should be aware of that. You're the most important person in my life. The best companion I could think of. You know I get lonely and grumpy when I can't see you, and you know I still get absurdly jealous, even though I hate being so. And so I can't help but think there's something else I'm not doing right."

Taichi stopped there, waiting for her to, if not answer his question, then to contradict him in one way or another, at least. After all, he really was at a loss.

He thought he'd been doing a fairly good job as a boyfriend, when all was said and done. He'd already shared Chihaya's most important interest and it wasn't difficult to at least understand the new ones she'd found. He made sure to be there for her when she needed him, and tried his best to give her space when she needed that more. True, he'd had some trouble coming for help on his part, but even that was a thing of a past rather than present – certainly not something that could shock Chihaya into thinking like this.

He would think that the all-day-long date he'd come up with and seen through in celebration of their first anniversary as a couple last week was a good show of how much he still cared.

He wasn't perfect. Neither was she. But never in his life would he have thought that he'd failed to get his feelings across.

"Chihaya," he prompted once more, his voice audibly quieter. "Please tell me what it is. I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken."

She looked up from the floor she'd been glaring at for a while and met his gaze, a shadow of unease still clouding her big brown eyes. She opened her mouth to answer; she closed it instantly and looked away again, abashed. There was a hint of pink on her cheeks, and it only grew darker as the time passed, though whether it was because of embarrassment or something more alarming, Taichi couldn't tell yet.

"Chihaya–"

"It's because you never say it."

He supposed his eyes opened wider than ever, what's with the utter astonishment he felt growing inside him immediately. For a few moments, he could do nothing but stare, the craziness of the situation overwhelming enough to successfully prevent him from forming a sensible thought, and much less coming up with any kind of solution. One look at Chihaya was enough to sober him up, however.

She was distressed. She was insecure.

No matter how stupid he thought the reason to be, he could hardly allow the situation to last.

With a groan that was bound to startle her, he bent over and buried his face in his hands.

Only one thing he could do now.

"Come here," he said, his face still hidden behind one hand as he tore the other one away and beckoned her towards him. "No excuses. You'll talk later. Now just come here, please."

She did, albeit tentatively, as if afraid of the reaction he might show her. With his patience starting to run thin at last, Taichi didn't wait for her to cover the whole distance, instead reaching out and grabbing her by the wrist, only to pull her down on the couch right next to him.

And then he pulled her even closer, locking her in a bone-crushing hug.

"I'm gonna do something to you," he mumbled into her hair, his voice a mixture of laughter and complaint. "You cruel, cruel, woman. Have you no heart? Here I am, mind reeling as I try to figure out what the hell I did wrong again and you say it's because I don't say I like you enough. As if you didn't already know you've got a firmer hold of my heart than I ever did. Tell me, am I really this bad at showing you that I care that you doubt it?"

It was Chihaya's turn to growl at him, though it surely – and fortunately – didn't stop her from burying her face even deeper into his chest and digging her fingers into the shirt on his back. Again, Taichi laughed at the display, but didn't loosen his grip one bit.

That silly, unbelievable, most beloved girl.

"This and that are different things," she muttered finally in response against his buttons, her stubborn indignation probably being the only reason why he could discern the words at all. "There are different kinds of love languages. We even talked about it, you know."

"Yes. And as far as I remember, we've already established that neither of us cared for this one. So your argument doesn't work."

Well, this was a lie, or at least, it wasn’t fully true. After all, he could never get tired of hearing her say those words, to him and him only. But he didn't need it that much, not when he already knew of so many other ways in which Chihaya expressed her love towards him. He'd always assumed it was the same for her, too.

Funnily enough, he still didn't think he was mistaken.

"I've had feelings for you for the past fourteen years, you dummy, I wouldn't change my mind just because you decided to return them," he threw in only half-jokingly, as if to make sure he got his point across before moving onto the next part. "So? Care to tell me what's the source of it all?"

He felt her tense against him for a split second, only to relax in the next moment with a long, weary sigh. He waited for her to make herself comfortable in his arms, shifting ever so slightly to make it easier for them both. And then he heard her speak.

"I met up with Kana-chan the other day," she admitted weakly. "Her and Desktomu. And I guess... They're always so sweet with one another, now more than ever. I suppose... It made me feel a little jealous. But most of all, it just made me think."

"And you decided that I'd fallen out of love with you, because I don't talk like Komano does?"

"I didn't decide anything, I told you already. I just wondered if maybe I was doing something wrong to deserve that treatment. Sorry for being so terribly scared of losing you again because of my own foolishness."

Words caught in his throat as Taichi tried to protest against this new development. That last addition Chihaya had made – and more importantly, the wounded, truly uncertain voice with which she'd spoken – would have been enough to melt his heart even if he had actually been angry with her. Right now, he had to hold back from grabbing her by the chin and kissing her senseless until all the idiotic ideas evaporated from her overworked mind.

The things she did to him without as much as trying.

You evil little imp.

"They're newly-weds. You can't use them for reference," he managed to stutter out at least, conveniently ignoring the hoarseness of his own voice and the emotion that hovered behind it. "Not to mention, those two are the opposite of us when it comes to talking about feelings openly. There's a reason they got together six years before we did. Just because something works for them doesn't mean it's the best course for us to take as well."

He smiled again and planted a kiss at the top of her hair, before adding, "I still can't believe you really doubted me, though."

She huffed and pulled away, although she still didn't move from her place on the couch. They were still close; close enough for Taichi to see the light reflecting in her eyes and the blush that hadn't left her cheeks, and to reach out and comb her tangled hair with his fingers. Another gesture so full of love, even though it was but a fraction of all that she made him feel.

"Well, since I never understood what had made you fall in love with me in the first place, it's only natural that I'd have this kind of doubts."

He chuckled and she smiled on her part, her obstinacy giving it to the desire to just be with him. It was another thing Taichi was able to read in her eyes – and, knowing the feeling well enough from his own experience, he had no trouble deciphering it.

Delayed, the first part of her sentence entered his brain.

What made me fall for you, I wonder?

He didn't know. It had been so long since he’d realised his feelings after all, and longer still since those feelings had been born. Even all those years earlier, he probably wouldn’t have been able to point out the reasons clearly, never mind finding the one spark that had started it – trying to do so now seemed downright impossible.

There were so many reasons, after all.

Maybe it was because she had never considered herself a possible love interest for anyone, first when she was too engrossed in karuta and later, when she thought she didn't deserve to be one. Maybe it was her hot-headedness and her drive, and how different she'd always been from him, and yet never failed to tell him how much she'd admired and envied those qualities of his that she lacked.

Maybe it was the fact that she'd always been with him, so close and so dear and yet so impossible to grasp.

Maybe it was because she'd loved him long before either of them dared believe that was the case.

Maybe...

"Maybe," he said out loud, though in fact not loud at all, his lips moving against her forehead as he leaned in to put a kiss there, too. "Maybe, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."

Edging away, Taichi saw tears gathering in her eyes. He wiped them away with his thumb, his hand cupping the side of her jaw fittingly.

And then he kissed her properly.

Just like he had wanted to ever since he'd first seen her that day.

[szivtalan]

otp questions for endhawks.........will u kick me if i'm greedy and say ALL OF THE NUMBERS

I WILL NOT but this might take a while tho!!!!

1. Who is the most affectionate?

hawks is more physically affectionate - he'll link their arms together, cuddle to enji's side in public, climb in his lap when they're home, hold his hand, initiate kisses more. but it's enji that people notice sending fond looks for his boyfriend so many times it becomes embarrassing - tabloids will have a whole article on endeavor's "heart eyes" ("my eyes are not hearts" enji frowns at the magazine in hawks' hands, who just shrugs and grins "seems like they are for me") so i would say, deep down the big man's a softie too

2. Big spoon/Little spoon?

enji/hawks. unless enji has a nightmare, because in that case, hawks is more than happy to be his lil jetpack.

3. Most common argument?

ah they fight about the most useless things but one of my favorites that must come up often is enji thinking that hawks deserves better than him, and hawks insisting that he's everything he ever wanted.

4. Favorite non-sexual activity?

kicking villain ass and family dinners. hawks likes to eat, and enji likes to eat with his loved ones all in one place. he wonders why hawks gets along so well with his children, and then he realizes - he forgot (again) how insanely young hawks is, and that he's merely a few years older than his youngest son, too. ngl natsuo glares daggers at his old man for having a boyfriend half his age ahahaha

5. Who is most likely to carry the other?

given that enji could swing hawks around like a yo-yo, i think it's him ADJGSGH

6. What is their favorite feature of their partner’s?

hawks likes everything about enji. he's really into his body, but also his dry sarcasm, his occasional goofy jokes, and most of all, his heart. hawks will watch enji kneel down to a couple of children at a battlefield, his own face and hands dripping with blood, grunt out "are you alright, kiddos? come here, i'll get you somewhere safe" and see him do exactly that, scoop the kids up in his arms and carry them on shaking legs that could barely keep himself up, and then he will see him let his eldest burn the world, his second eldest scream at his face, his youngest treat him like dirt and know that he still cares so deeply for them, know that he loves them and wants the best for them and if the best is torment their father until he dies or worse, he'll let them without so much as a complaint.

enji, on the other hand, loves how easily hawks can lift the mood. he's learned to see through facades, and he'll call him out if he senses that it's hurting hawks to put on a mask, but hawks joking around and mouthing off makes our atlas feel like the weight of the world is a little lighter that day. he loves him for how driven he is, how graceful and hard-working and focused he seems in a fight, and thinks about how those traits were most important to him in the past but now he can see hawks use them to create a world where they can rest, and he realizes... that's not so bad an idea after all.

7. What’s the first thing that changes when they realize they have feelings for the other?

enji speeds up the process of divorcing his wife lol. also he becomes more nervous around hawks, because shit, he likes him too, but he shouldn't be liked, why does hawks even like him? when hawks learns that enji likes him too, he gets shamelessly flirty. he doesn't make a move, of course - enji is still a married man, but he'll laugh at his nervousness, play with his own hair for enji's viewing pleasure and send suggestive winks his way like the damn tease he is.

8. Nicknames? & if so, how did they originate?

enji calling hawks birdie is pretty obvious. hawks alternates every petname imaginable for enji when he learns that he's never been called one (he figures it out when he jokingly calls him darling once and enji blushes to the roots of his hair), his favorite is "sweetheart" and "baby". enji also calls hawks his angel, but only when he's being very soft for him

9. Who worries the most?

i mean..... both? enji tends to worry more for hawks' safety and hawks worries more for the crushing guilt enji lives with.

10. Who remembers what the other one always orders at a restaurant?

hawks - claims he does, but the truth is, he says a different thing each time and enji's happy to try new things as long as hawks will beam at him proudly after ordering

11. Who tops?

depends. they both do. enji topped more at the beginning because hawks was really into it and he was kinda insecure about asking for anything else, but hawks once offered and found out that he has a delicious bottom bitch on his hands.

12. Who initiates kisses?

hawks. height difference doesn't really matter when you have wings to fly up to your boyfriend's face and kiss him stupid

13. Who reaches for the other’s hand first?

enji does. he wants to feel that hawks is by his side all the time, safe and sound.

14. Who kisses the hardest?

again, enji. his kisses get desperate, his hands rough. his temperature goes up despite his will and he just wants hawks to melt against him

15. Who wakes up first?

enji does! he's used to working out in the early morning before going to work

16. Who wants to stay in bed just a little longer?

hawks does!! deep down he's still a rebellious lazy teen and whenever he has a day off, he likes to sleep until 12. he swears he considers breaking up with enji the first time the man wakes him up at 6 to ask if he wants to come work out with him

17. Who says I love you first?

surprisingly, enji does. hawks is way too protective of his own feelings to let them flow out so soon, but enji is desperate, he wants hawks by his side for ever, and the first time he says it is the first time he realizes it's true. they're out eating dinner one day, and enji watches hawks chew around the food in his mouth, downing chicken like his life depended on it, and he watches the last rays of sunlight hit his golden hair, his golden eye, paint his wings blood red, and he knows he hasn't seen anything more perfect than that sight. he tells him he loves him, and hawks laughs so much he almost chokes on food. "pretty fucked up to tell me that while i'm deepthroating yakitori" he tells him, giggling

18. Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)

hawks!!! it usually says cheesy things like "good luck at work, endeavor-san!" or "don't forget to eat ur vegetables!" when there are zero vegetables in the lunches hawks packs for him

19. Who tells their family/friends about their relationship first?

i mean hawks doesn't have much connection to his family, or has many friends, but enji is kind of pressed to tell his family all about his relationship since, you know. the news would reach them sooner or later anyway

20. What do their family/friends think of their relationship?

mirko is THRILLED that hawks is dating endeavor. the todoroki family, i mean.... shoto is confused, natsuo is mad, fuyumi and rei are both supportive and say they both want the best for enji. but mostly they just all think that he's really. Really young lol

21. Who is more likely to start dancing with the other?

hawks!!! he likes to dance around the kitchen while enji is cooking or doing the dishes, and sometimes manages to seduce enji into his arms too.

22. Who cooks more/who is better at cooking?

hawks is a better cook, but he never tells enji about that. he just lets him suffer and teach himself how to cook because it's so much fun

23. Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?

hawks, but he says nothing he would ever say can beat enji calling him his angel. that's the cheesiest it can get, and it's also only because of his wings, like shut up enji omg that's so embarrassing

24. Who whispers inappropriate things in the other’s ear during inappropriate times?

hawks gets bored on important meetings. then he looks over to enji in a suit and gets horny. one of his favorite hobbies is watching enji squirm and struggle to keep it together after he's stroked his thigh under the table and whispered filth in his ear

25. Who needs more assurance?

enji does. he really, honestly thinks he doesn't deserve the love hawks has for him.

26. What would be their theme song?

my dude every song on ur playlist could be but this one in particular takes the cake for real

27. Who would sing to their child back to sleep?

in an au where enji's kids are still kids instead of grown adults, hawks would definitely read to them (sometimes legit tales, sometimes just colored-up and censored versions of their dad's missions) and cuddle them to sleep while he hums to them softly. in a non-au, enji catches him with shoto sleeping all wrapped up in his arms and wings, right after comforting him when he had a nightmare, trying to keep awake but slowly dozing off holding enji's youngest, most precious son, and enji kind of falls in love a lot more.

28. What do they do when they’re away from each other?

text, call, videochat. hawks makes a show of wearing some of enji's clothes, but really, you can't keep these assholes away from each other.

29. one headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

enji will never think he deserves to have hawks by his side

30. one headcanon about this OTP that mends it

hawks will never grow tired of showing enji how much he deserves him.

[trashahime]

Anon, sorry for taking so long and the length. There was a lot to address and I tend to ramble. Due to the length I am going to divide your ask in chunks and respond to each paragraph individually for clarity's sake.

I'm curious as to why you have addressed this to Sesskagu shippers both here and later. TBH, this alone will make many doubt that you are truly neutral because you seem to have fallen for the common but false claim that the anti sentiment has it's roots in bitterness over a lost ship war.

Those supporting the end are made up of a variety of people who are simply united in their dislike/disappointment. Among them are shippers and non-shippers, antis, neutrals and even some SR fans who are bothered by how their ship is portrayed.

Personally, I don't think it takes any kind of mental gymnastics to have a problem with how Sessrin is depicted in Yashahime. There are some antis who probably do purposely make the worst possible interpretations to fuel their disgust/anger. But most are being completely sincere in their belief that Rin was married and pregnant by the time she was 15. You have probably already seen and dismissed all the anti arguments to support this view so it would be pointless to rehash them. You can believe it's just about disliking Sessrin but there were many antis like myself who were willing to accept the relationship even if we found it distasteful had Sunrise gone about things differently.

Each "hater" has their own reason for continuing to watch the show and I can't speak for them. Or as a "hater" either as I enjoyed the show. But I also think it's a trainwreck with many issues and problematic portrayals.

If people are targeting individuals and maliciously interacting with their posts then that is definitely harassment. However, I suspect you also mean the general posts made by antis criticizing those who watch the show.

The belief that watching/supporting Yashahime equals supporting a p*dophilic portrayal of Sessrin and other unsavory stuff is an opinion I disagree with. But I also disagree that expressing that opinion is harassment.

I get why you find it to be extremely harsh and hurtful but I also think you are taking it very personally when you needn't.

Consider my position. I'm an anti that still enjoys Yashahime. Most of those posts are made by my moots, some of which I have very friendly interactions with. I have even more reason to feel personally attacked by them but I don't. Just because I respect someone's right to an opinion that doesn't mean I am obligated to agree with it and make it apply it to myself. Unless you agree that liking Yashahime means condoning p*dophilia, then I'd advise you to take the view that those posts don't pertain to you at all.

As for petitions, bad reviews, being glad Yashahime is almost over... Well that's some of the least offensive actions an anti can take. Two of the three are against corporations, not fellow fandom members and the other is just a celebration amongst themselves.

They don't affect anyone else unless the petitions and bad reviews are substantial enough to put the shows future in jeopardy. IMO, the correct counter action is good reviews and supportive petitions, not telling antis to stop. They have the right to express their opinions.

I have seen many grooming and csa survivors say they also don't view Sessrin as having those aspects. However, there are many survivors on the anti side that strongly disagree. While I think that the opinions of those who have endured similar circumstances have more weight, it also creates kind of a never ending tug of war situation where neither side can really "win" the argument because they are equally balanced. For every survivor saying it is, there is one saying it's not.

Generally, I choose not to use the words p*dophilia or grooming when describing the Sessrin relationship or say that everyone who likes the pairing is a P&G apologist.

Many antis don't agree on this, but I think it's possible to have headcanons and scenarios that result in a version of Sessrin in which those things are not present. Fanonwise anyway. To me, the canon situation can definitely be interpreted to believe that they are present.

Mostly, I tend not to use the terms because they have specific psychological and legal definitions. That makes it very easy for SR fans to completely dismiss the idea that they could apply to Sessrin because it's not a perfect fit. I think if it turns out to be part of actual canon or if it's just part of one's own headcanon that Sesshomaru was "waiting" for Rin to grow up and courting her with gifts like the kimonos then that means he had a romantic interest in her when she was too young for it to be acceptable.

He might not be a technical p*do in that he is attracted to children, but his thoughts and actions are of one with regards to Rin. I agree with those that say Sesshomaru would never intentionally manipulate or pressure Rin to be with him, thus not "technically" grooming.

However, informing her via courting that he wants to be with her when she is older does put a type of manipulative pressure on her. For years, she will have to live with the knowledge that her literal savior, the most important person to her in the world, someone she loves and doesn't want to disappoint, is waiting for her. It will absolutely influence her life choices and who she becomes.

No need to apologise, I don't mind being vented at and am clearly prone to long-ass messages myself.

I think you do have some valid frustrations but I don't think they all are.

It's often forgotten that antis are major fans too. Many wanted to love Yashahime but in their eyes Yashahime "bashes" the OG and it's characters. It's ruined something they held near and dear. And they are highly upset about it.

Think about it, that's probably why you and others are so angry at the criticism. It's bashing something you all enjoy or maybe even love and it's making you highly upset. You all are more alike then you realize.

You can let it all impact your fandom experience or realise there is very little you can do about it because that criticism, even if you find it unfounded, harsh or extreme has the right to exist provided it doesn't break the rules of the website. You won't be able to block it all away.

it's a tired old cliche but it's true that you can't control what others do, only your own reaction to it. And frankly I think some of your reactions are as extreme as to what you ascribe to antis. I mean, you want them to stop celebrating the end of Yashahime. How does that really personally affect you?

A change in perspective as I described earlier goes a long way in not taking anti criticism personally. It even works when you are being personally attacked. I have seen posts about me specifically saying I am a deluded and deranged individual with real life mental health issues just because I think Kagura is the mom. Those people don't know me and I know the truth about myself. So why let someone's unfounded false world view affect me or my fandom experience?

Anyway, you probably just wanted to rant and weren't expecting or wanting this massive response. I hope you find a way to deal with the negativity because it's not completely avoidable but it will die down eventually.

[seonghwa-is-babie]

Soft kitten

Hybrid! Seonghwa x male reader

Warning: mentioned abuse, crying, angst

Note: I think this the fastest I've ever redone a fic😳😳

Hope u enjoy!

"get up, pet" the guard said as seonghwa's cage opened, stepping out with his ears and tail hanging low. not really sure where he had to go, only knowing to obey orders, or he'll get even more beatings than just the daily torture of malnutrition.

Seonghwa lost hope ever since they kidnapped him from his home in the jungles and brought him to this prison like building, he had tried escaping many times, but every one of those failed. and the punishment for them was even worse than a failed attempt at freedom

They stopped in front of a curtain, pushing the boy through it. He fell to the ground, only when he looked up did he realise what his situation was. It was an auction, selling hybrids for a lot of money

"now up next as you can see, this beautiful white tiger hybrid, only 22 years old" prices were being shouted through the room, building up price little by little, until "$100,000,000" a voice said, this shocked everyone, including seonghwa. who'd give out that much just for a hybrid? "sold! You may come and get your hybrid after the auction"

After the auction, they put him back in his cage. He secretly hoped his new 'home' will be better than this one, though, he doubts it'll be anything different from his current life. Footsteps started coming to his cage and stopped in front of him

"get up" said the man who sold him. Seonghwa had trouble with it due to his wounds from the previous beatings "I'm terribly sorry for his lazy attitude sir" he said as the boy got up to face his new owner "it's fine" said the man who bought him. he was handsome, but seonghwa wasn't one to be fooled easily by appearances. he wore a fancy velvet suit and had (h/c) hair that was styled neatly

The older man did the leash on seonghwa's collar and handed it to the other "it's all yours now" the man nodded and left the building, seonghwa's ears still hanging low. He was glad to be out of there, but what will happen after this?

They got to a car that was parked relatively close, the other opened the door for him. Seonghwa didn't ask anything and stepped inside, the other went to the drivers seat and started driving "so what's your name?" he looked up shyly and said "s-s-seonghwa, sir." "that's a pretty name, and you can drop the sir or any formalities, just call me y/n." seonghwa blushed "thank you si- y/n, sorry" y/n shook it off.

🐯

The rest of the ride was quiet, seonghwa being too afraid and shy to start any conversation. "you don't talk much, do you?" y/n asked, seonghwa tensed up afraid he did something wrong

"it's alright, I get it. Your previous home must've been rough and laid down a lot of rules" y/n looked at seonghwa through the mirror of the car "I'm sorry you had to go through that, but don't worry, you won't have to go through that ever again, I'll make sure of it"

was his luck finally turning around? he didn't wanna get his hopes up too high too soon though, after all the man could just be lying to him "actually, I already have 7 hybrids I take care of already, they're like family to me." this made the smaller relieved, yet still nervous and frankly, a bit scared, what if the other hybrids don't like him or beat him like some of the others did back at his now old home.

They arrived at a big mansion, to seonghwa, it was a bit terrifying. When they got out of the car, y/n gestured seonghwa to come closer, the other obeyed but got extremely nervous when he felt hands around his neck, he flinched, pulling away "oh, I'm sorry, I was just gonna take your collar off since it looks a bit uncomfortable" seonghwa calmed down a bit, enough to let y/n finish taking his collar off. The older then gestured to take his hand, which the other took

Y/n opened the door, hoping the boys didn't mess up the house too bad, only to be met with no damage whatsoever "huh, that's new. Nothing's broken or damaged" seonghwa looked at him confused, but decided against asking, since he was still a bit on edge

He heard multiple pairs of feet come their way and hid behind y/n "hyung! You're home!" multiple voices said, they must be his other hybrids. All of them ran up to him to give him a hug, and that's when they noticed Seonghwa "hyung, who's that?" San, a cat hybrid who was currently in the older's arms, pointed behind y/n, eager to know the strangers name

"right, boys could you all please calm down a bit, I have some important news" that made the boys perk up "I've decided to bring another friend home, this is seonghwa, I hope you'll be kind to him like you are to each other. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to show seonghwa his room, you can ask him questions after that"

🐯

It's been about a month since seonghwa was introduced to the house, and he felt like he was in heaven, many friends, a loving owner that helped him get over past traumas, who he might be starting to like a little more than just his owner, and the freedom to finally chose for himself.

but not everything was all sunshine and rainbows. After a few weeks he started to question why he was even brought into this house, why y/n wanted him so badly that he spent $100,000,000 on him alone. how could seonghwa ever even try to pay him back, at this point he just feels like a burden to the man

🐯

One evening after dinner, seonghwa headed to his room early , claiming he was tired. When he got to his room, he started thinking 'why would he take me in, it seems like he has enough hybrids already, so why bring home another mouth to feed. He should have just left me there, where I won't be a burden to him' thinking more and more of these thoughts, he started to silently cry into his sheets

🐯

"boys, I'm gonna check up on seonghwa ok, I'll be back in a minute" the youngsters gave him quick 'ok' and went back to the show that was playing. As y/n was walking towards his room, he couldn't help but feel worried about the tiger hybrid, something seemed a bit odd when he went to his room so early.

He opened the door to seonghwa's room, only to find the latter seemingly sound asleep. y/n smiled at him and went to close the door, until he heard a quiet sniff coming from seonghwa's direction "seonghwa?" he didn't answer "seonghwa?" again, he didn't answer, but the older went in because he knew that he wasn't just hearing things.

He crouched down on the younger's bedside, but he had already covered his face with his blanket "seonghwa, could you please lower the sheets, I want to see your face for a second" y/n spoke in a gentle tone. The younger shook his head "please seonghwa, I want to make sure you're alright, and I can't do that without looking at your face

Seonghwa hesitated, but slowly lowered the sheets, revealing his red eyes and tear stained cheeks, the older immediately became worried, but tried to keep his calm "kitten, what's wrong? Did someone hurt you? Is it-"

"why did you get me?" y/n was shocked at that "you already have so many, so why bring in another mouth to feed. You could have easily left me to get bought by someone else. So why?! Why did you buy a stupid tiger that's nothing more than a burden to you?!?!"

he couldn't believe what he was hearing, to him, seonghwa, though having only been here for a short time, has become one of the most important people in his life. He couldn't let seonghwa think about himself like that

"seonghwa, i got you because from the first time I saw you, I knew you needed someone, someone that loves you and respects you, and I thought, I could be that person. It doesn't matter to me how many hybrids there are in my house, I will take care of all of you no matter what. And trust me, you're not a burden, you already help so much around the house, and the others already love you to death, I love you to death. Please, don't think that about yourself, I know you've been through a lot of stuff, but right here, right now, I'll promise to keep you save until I draw my last breath, you're save with us, with me"

Seonghwa cried, but these tears were those of happiness. He engulfed y/n in a hug, wrapping his arms around the olders neck while putting his head in his his chest "th-th-an-k you, thank you so much!" y/n stroked the younger's back, carefully lifting himself on the bed "it's alright dear, you're safe with me, no one's gonna hurt you"

🐯

After a while of comforting y/n realised he hasn't told the boys to go to bed yet "sweetheart, I have to go see the boys for a little and make sure they go to bed, is that alright with you?" seonghwa didn't let him go "can't you stay here?" he chuckled at the younger clinging onto him as if his life depended on it

"I'll only be gone for a few minutes, then I'll come straight back to you" the younger continued his whining "nooooo, I wanna stay with you" y/n lifted him up so he was wrapped around his chest, clinging on him like a koala "then you're coming with me"

"boys, it's time for bed" y/n said as he came downstairs, the others looked at him with a questioning look "what?" he asked, the others gave knowing looks to each other "hyung?" San asked "yeah, what is it?" the next words, y/n definitely didn't expect to hear "do you like seonghwa hyung?"

🐯

The question had stuck with him since the others went to bed 'maybe I do like him, he brings a smile to my face just by existing, he's a true sweetheart, not to mention he's the most beautiful person i've ever laid my eyes on' " umm, y/n?" the older turned his head to seonghwa "I ummm, might have heard what you and San talked about" y/n sighed, sitting up from the bed, already knowing where this was going "I understand it if you felt uncomfortable about that, but he wasn't wrong actually, I've found myself quite fond of you actually, but I completely understand if these feelings aren't the same for you."

the two stood there in complete silence "I guess I should go I probably made this extrem-" "no wait!" y/n looked back at seonghwa who's face was completely red "umm, I umm, I also like you, the feelings' mutual" he almost stuttered out completely. The older smiled softly at him, crawling back into bed with him, petting his ears "You're so soft, kitten."