#i need to build myself some kind of a life where i will still have things to live for if/when i lose the most important people in my life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jewelleria · 1 month

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I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be.

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate.

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified.

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map.

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle.

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more.

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop.

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments.

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on.

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not.

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways.

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine.

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war.

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this:

I am a Jew.

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love.

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners.

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee!

Then they sent me this:

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die.

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind.

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake.

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired.

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people?

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews.

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like.

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for.

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war.

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why.

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be.

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

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liaswills · 2 months

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Pick a card: What does this person want to say to you? ❤️

Good evening lovely darlings! I'm back with another Tumblr Tarot post- for the delusional girlies, this is another What would this person want to say to you? Particularly love focused! This could be a message from a S/O- or F/s/o or perhaps even a f/o! Depending on your degree of delulu, ofcourse. :)

Pick a pile! Use the pics underneath or go based on intuition. Thankyou! ❤️

Oh, love of mine. What wonders there are to be found when you look into my eyes. This is all poetic, truly, but in my soul, the deepest parts of it, I know that you'll still be hoping to come back to me. It is the way things are. I can't change it- even if I wanted to. I watch you. I see you. I hope you know I do believe in you- I love you. When I see tears on your cheeks, streaking like some porcelain beauty, some victorian soul, gauging at what is left of me, gauging at what the eye cannot see, I long to hold your hand, softly press a kiss to it and tell you all I have seen in you that you do not see. I would take you to my favourite spot, walk the whole way just to talk to you, I would tell you what I have been wanting to let you know- that no matter where I am, or what you do, or who we are, in our very souls, we are always one and the same. We are alike. Perhaps in spirit, personality, or maybe just in how we devote ourselves to spirituality, or God, but I know that I am yours if you will be mine. But you haven't been coming to me. You don't want to be mine yet. I know you think you do- but you're not ready for this. Neither am I. I have found myself trying to build what was left- to build a new. I have found I wanted to incorporate more of the old into my new life and therefore I am struggling to find my way to you- it will show some day but I will make time free. Free time for you. I promise you this. I fear some day, you may leave me entirely. Yet even when this happens, I'm but a cinder. I'm but a memory. A distant person you once knew. Distant eyes you once reflected upon, talked to, listened to, hoped for, wished and yearned. I'll not be the same because you won't either. We grow with one another. Tell me you love me. I need to know this. I need you to tell it straight to my face, to my memory, to my thought, to my soul, just think it. Think, say, breathe it. I will know when you do. Thank you for thinking of me today, I appreciate it.

You'll always be my true love, you know? ❤️

It's in his kiss, that's where it is. You can feel when I love you truly, baby, because I would kiss you like you've never felt before. I'd go as slow as you want, as sensual as I could ever be, as loving as I could try, I would do it for you. I know we don't know each other that well yet. We are new. But even if you know me for a long time, this feeling is new. We haven't been together before- not in other lives. I haven't loved you yet. This is new to me. I think we would fit together.... I am confused about it however. I'm not really sure what I want. I know, I am indecisive. But with you- it does feel right, it does feel... like I am a child again kissing his first crush. It feels this way- which is why I think it's important that we continue to communicate, about what you want, about what I want... it'll make this easier because I can't smell what is on your mind. I can sense your feelings, I am very empathic, but I don't know what you're thinking. And I have the feeling you're led by your thoughts, just as I am. We are horrible in listening to ourselves. Perhaps, I am better at giving you advice than I am for myself but in truth, it should be me who has to do the work and approach you, romance you, love you, not the other way around. You're so kind to me- this bamboozles the shit out of me because I am not technically seen as an approachable nice person, so your energy it really confuses me for that reason. Am I not repulsive? Do you not... want to run away from me? You're making my bad thoughts about myself resurface and dissolve all the same. When I think or look at you, even for a second, I just know that I am looking at something good. I know this is something to be cherished. Can I trust my own feeling however? I'm not too sure. I want you to know this. Just to make some clarification about where I am right now. I am not trying to push you away- nor do I want you gone AT ALL I need you and I want you by my side but I am just a torn up dunderhead. Forgive me?

"She's one of my favourite things." This is what I say when people ask about you. Hm, yes, I know. From me? You're surprised. I know some days you may think I don't know you, or don't like you, but I do, I like you a lot. You're my princess, in any fairytale that exists. And the divine to my subservient self. I'd worship you. Cherish you. Because, I know, that for you not to leave me, I have to step up and treat you well. I will be forthcoming, I will be consistent, and I will try to make your life as much of a priority as I will mine. It's not black and grey with me. It's quite clear with me. I want you to be mine. I need to marry you- some day or now. I do not care when. That's how serious I am. That's how real this feels for me. I don't need to figure this out by a 10 hour astrology research to compare my charts to yours. I don't need to figure out via a deity about what time you're going to call or text. I need to know just one thing- and that is that I can trust my feelings. I want you to trust yours. If you do- if you do feel for me, If you do cherish me, or even like me, or god above, if you even love me, if you could, that you won't break it hard on me. Do it gently. Tell me how you love me, and when you leave me, so I know it's easier. If you ever leave me, I would try to have you one more day. I really would. Not in spite or because I want some silly disgusting energy break up sex but because...I would just want to look at you, once more, see you, breathe you, just touch your hand perhaps, or even your hair, to just sit there and tell you nothing or a lot. But I wouldn't ever try to hurt you, I will never try to do this I just hope... perhaps... that you won't hurt me, all right? Can you do this for me? Can you do everything gently? (Except the sex, I don't need it to be gentle ok) but you get what I mean. My heart, my feelings, are much more tender than I can confess. I may look tough. I may be someone you think is tough- perhaps I am, maybe I am also that, but one word of you can silence me forever. Trust on that. So use your words well with me, it'll be better for both of us. Don't you think? I love you. ❤️

God speed your love to me. You thought this was going to be the romantic pile, didn't you? Hahahaha! Bitch please! I am your worst nightmare. Just kidding, I am just incapable of showing you the love you so desire and dream of. What is it with you and me? You like me obsessively. Trust me, your guides and I have been chatting away for a bit and you're.... well, let's just say, you're at wits end about me, aren't you darling? Hehe. I like when you're mad. Some days, I just think how lovely it would be if you'd be in my arms and I could just... have a peek at that lovely chest of yours. Too dirty? I understand. You think I'm a pervert. Honestly, darling, I do too. That's what I hide behind, mostly, truthfully, I'm disgusting myself sometimes, especially during those solo hours. You don't want to believe the things I've thought about you- oh my god. If my life's work and thoughts would ever get published, it would be the biggest event of all lifetime. The world would stop. The M25 would be in a traffic jam all fucking year- don't know why, but it would, wouldn't it? Say, I know you from somewhere... that's what I always say, I always begin with that. And then, I would transgress your interest and I would try and lure you into thinking of me. And when you're thinking of me, I am thinking of how you're hopelessly and desperately thinking of me and then I'll- you know, get creative thinking of you. Honey, what am I to you? Though? Like- can we be real? Am I your friend? Your lover? Your nemesis? Your teacher? Your mentor? What the fuck are we? I am so confused ! 🤣 You say things that literally bolder me off the side of the road and throw me right into the cut. Like can we pretend that for one day, you and I aren't you and I and then we can be delusional together in our own little world? You'd like that right? Well, I would too. I need to escape whatever the hell this is, or this life is, and then we can get coffee and a drink or two and you can tell me what we're going to do about this, about us, because I can't stop thinking how we are going to solve this or do this or just... how. Hm :) You look good. Just wanted to say that. Take some medicine when you feel bad, especially cramps. Take good care of yourself. I could write to you forever- know that. You can reach out to me.

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dycefic · 1 year

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The Hearthstone God

[The sequel to the God of Prophecy, and the Serpent God of Protection]

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Fire is out of fashion, in this new age.

Some of my kind have found new homes, new names, in factories or forges, in the hearts of wildfires or crystals or volcanoes.

Most of us are simply forgotten.

I was a fire god, once. A god of gathering, a god of communion, a god of song and story. But there are no hearthstones now. No fires around which families gather to eat and talk and tell stories.

I am lucky. I am tied to a great flat stone near a lake. A lake that has survived all the wild exuberance of men, when they learned to change the world around them. Once, this was a place where travellers stopped to rest. At first they travelled on their feet, or on half-wild horses. Then there were carts, and a road. Much later, cars drove down the road. The road was paved.

But some things do not change. People need clean water to drink, and the spring here is good. They need to rest, when they are weary. And even now, when they come to camp in nylon tents, to fish in the lake, or to hunt the ducks, or drive camper-vans to the flat place, their ancient instincts wake, and they turn to fire once more. They light new fires atop my stone, so flat and safe, from which no log will roll to set the woods afire.

Not so many come now. Camping is less popular these days. But some still come. Some still light their fires, and settle around my stone, and talk, or listen to music, or tell stories. So I survive, just barely, on the edges of belief.

I feel it, when things begin to change. Something is happening. Something is drawing old gods back. Not the great ones, risen beyond mortal understanding, but the oldest gods, the small gods, those who rose when humankind were still learning what they were.

Far to the west of me, a god even more ancient than I wakes, and begins to hunt again. I remember the stories that were once told of that old serpent, and tell them over to myself in the long fireless nights.

A god of prophecy, not of this land, settles south and west, and I remember tales of ancient ravens, their wisdom and their guile and their sharp, sharp eyes. There was a raven clan once, who passed this way in the days of skin garments and stone tools, but I have forgotten their name. I only remember the symbol they wore, the black bird with its spread wings, marked in charcoal or charring on wooden talismans or leather garments.

I wait, to see who will awaken next.

To my great surprise, it is me.

The people who come this time aren’t like the campers. They come at night, a ragged family group with few blood ties between them, with a single tent and few possessions carried on devices I haven’t seen before. Bicycles, they’re called, slung over with bags the way ponies used to be. They come at night, and hide when cars pass on the road.

They light a fire on my stone, with wood scavenged from the forest, and huddle around its warmth. They don’t speak much, not at first, but they say enough. They have no home, I learn. They are travellers of a kind I have not known before, who are allowed to stop nowhere, but have no goal but a place to rest. They are thin, and worn, and so tired. So very tired.

They need a hearth.

I am only a weak shadow of a god, now, who once recorded the songs and stories of a thousand generations in my ancient stone, but I am still a god of fire. Their fire burns slow, their little fuel lasting well. The food they heat over it sustains them better. The water of that spring, my spring, puts a little life back in them. This stone has lain in this place since great monsters walked this world, since before humans spoke words to one another, and I came into being with the first fire that burned on it. I am old, old, and though weak, I am not powerless.

They stay.

I cannot speak to them. I am old, and weak, and they do not believe. But slowly, with the power of the fires they build every night, with the tiny offerings of scraps of food spilled into the flames, with their growing confidence in the safety of this place, I am able to do more. I give them dreams and they find the cave not far away, where they can hide. They dream of fish, and begin to try to catch some. A woman remembers that some of the local plants are safe to eat, when I slowly wake a long-forgotten memory of a camping trip from her childhood.

And then a child, a strange, quiet child who rarely speaks, a child without mother or father, in the care of an older brother who is exhausted to the very edge of death but cannot give up while she needs him… that child begins to hear.

She sits on my stone, sometimes for hours, not moving or speaking. It worries the others, but at least she is quiet, at least she is no trouble, and they are beginning to associate their hearth with safety. So they let her sit.

She is *listening*. She is listening to the sound of the water, to the sounds of the forest, to the wind blowing. And because she is listening, where no-one else has listened for so long, I sing to her. I sing to her the songs of thousands of years. From the wordless music of the earliest people, who sang what was in their hearts without words, to the songs I have learned from the fishermen with their radios and bluetooth speakers.

I do not know if she hears me, for some time. But then, one night, while they sit around their fire and eat food the oldest have almost certainly stolen, she sings one of my songs. “In a cavern… on a canyon… excavating for a mine…” she sings in a small voice. The others are startled, confused, for she has not spoken aloud since some bad thing they do not name happened, but one of the older ones knows the song and sings with her.

I have always liked ‘Clementine’. It’s been popular with campers for a long time.

The next day, while she sits on my stone, she sings along to one of the wordless songs the Raven People whose name I no longer remember once sang. It is a lullaby, a soft croon to soothe an infant, passed from mother to mother, and she seems to take pleasure in it.

She can hear me. She can even answer me, as the voice driven away by pain and fear begins to return. And so I grow stronger still. Strong enough to make the raven sign on the stone, one day, in the ashes of the fire of the night before.

She takes a half burned stick, and draws the sign on the stone. Pleased, I show her another sign, a leaping fish. She draws that too.

Soon, I need not shift the ashes. I can show her the pictures in her mind, and she draws them. She draws the wheel of a cart, and into her heart I whisper the stories the travellers in covered wagons once told over my stone. She draws a fish, and I make her laugh silently with the jests of fishermen who boast of fish who escaped them. She draws a horse, and I tell her about the wild horses who once drank at this lake, about the men and women who captured and tamed them and rode them through the forest when it was far greater than it is now. She draws a long-toothed cat, and I show her the great cat that once slept on my stone, and denned in the cave where her new found family sleep.

One night, when all the others are asleep and my fire has burned down to coals, she creeps back to the stone and looks into the coals. “Who are you?” she asks. “Are you real?”

She is afraid that the voice in her mind is the voice of madness, a lie created by a mind that does not work like other minds, that has endured great hardship. I do not want this child to be afraid. To instill fear runs counter to my very nature, save in whoever might threaten those my hearth protects.

I am a god of the hearth. I am a god of food, and communication, and peace, and safety. I am all the things that fire used to mean, before humans learned again to fear the thing they had tamed. I do not often take a form, for fire is my form, but for her I must try.

There was a wise woman once, who knew me, whose clan visited this lake several times every year. I watched her grow up, and grow old. I watched her learn of the god of the fire stone, and I watched her teach others. She slept beside me as a child, and as a woman. She sang her children to sleep beside me, and her grandchildren, and dozed beside me as an old, old woman. To her, I was represented by a sign of a flame in an oval, a fire and a stone.

I build a likeness of her out of the light of the coals and the shadows of smoke, a child with straight dark hair and a simple tunic, and in lines of light I draw the sign of the fire and the stone on the outlined chest. “I am the fire,” I tell her, “and the stone. I am all the fires that have ever burned here, all the stories told, all the songs sung, all the meals eaten. I am the traveler’s hearth, and the rest for the weary, and this is my place.”

“Piedra de fuego,” she says, tracing the symbol with her finger in the air. “The fire stone.”

“Yes. I am the god of this place.”

She frowns at this. “My brother says that God is in the sky.”

“Many gods are in the sky.” I cannot continue to hold the form of the girl, but the coals shift to make my sign. “I am not. I am here. I have always been here, since the first people built a fire on my stone, and warmed themselves.”

She nods slowly. “You are… a small god,” she says thoughtfully. “A place god. Like in movies.”

“Yes.” I’ve heard of movies, which are a new way of telling old, old stories. “Old places, important places, often have gods. And gods who are forgotten return to their old places and wait, until someone believes again.”

“Will you protect us?” she asks. “When the police come, to tell us to move on?”

“I am not strong,” I tell her sadly. “I cannot make men go away from here, if they are dangerous, or even call game here for you as I once did. But what I can do, I will do.”

She sits watching the coals for a long time, thinking. “Can we make you stronger?”

I think too, and she waits patiently. “You have already made me stronger. You listened. You believed. If you can convince the others to believe, that will make me stronger still.”

She sighed. “They don’t believe in anything, anymore. Not good things.”

It is a sad thing, that she knows that. They’ve been trying to hide it from her. “Then,” I tell her, “that means there is a place in their hearts that is ready for me. I am not hope. I am not a happy ending. I am not a god in the sky. I am a stone, and a fire, and a song. I am *real*. They can believe in what is real.”

The next night, she asks for a story, and one of the adults tells her an old fairy-tale from a country far away.

The next night, again, she asks for a story, and another adult tells a funny story about his childhood.

On the third night, she asks her brother to tell her a story. He tries, but he is so tired - not physically, but emotionally - that he runs out of words. So she lays her hand on his arm and offers to tell him a story, instead.

And she tells them all a story about a stone near a lake, flat and strong, that people wearing uncured skins and carrying flint weapons built a fire on. She tells of centuries passing, of people coming to the lake on their feet, on horses, in carts and wagons, in cars and motor-homes. Of thousands of years of fires, of people gathered around them, of the great continuity of humanity, and the Piedra De Fuego that has lain in this place since time began, listening to the stories and the songs and the voices of people long gone. Somewhere in the stone, she says, laying her hand on it, all those stories are remembered. All those songs are still sung. And it will remember us too.

I don’t know if it will work. But I was right. People need to believe in something. They need something to hold onto, when times are hard, when the ties of community and family are broken and they feel alone. And a stone thousands of years old, and a fire endlessly renewed on that stone, always new… that is real. They touch me, and think of those who came before, of thousands of years of history meeting them in this place, and they feel less alone.

It’s not much, not yet. But it is something. My nature, my existence, as explained to them by my small, strange priestess, is a slender lifeline flung to those who are adrift, a tiny certainty in a world they do not trust. And the more they believe in that lifeline, that certainty, then the more they believe in me. I *am* growing stronger.

When the police come, I will not be able to make them leave… but I think I am strong enough now to hide my people from unkind eyes. And if I can do that, then their faith will grow.

Tonight, three more people come. A mother and two children, weary and beaten down with hardship. My people welcome them, give them fish and greens grown by the lake, speak kindly to them. And when they have eaten, my little priestess sits between the two children and tells them a story of a stone, and a fire, and thousands of years of stories and songs, and she sings a wordless lullaby six thousand years forgotten, but living again in a child who draws the sign of the Raven in the dirt while she sings, and the sign of the fire on the stone.

And I grow a little stronger.

#short fiction #original story #i aten't dead #the old gods #small gods #household gods #forgotten gods who do not forget

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even-disco-baby · 28 days

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your infernal engines post stopped me from killing myself, so thank you for that. life is suffering and things are definitely going to get so much worse. but there’s a point to living just so the people you love don’t have to deal with another source of grief in their life, I think. I’m not sure. I might change my mind. But I came close one night to making a very real material step towards killing myself, and I read your post, so instead I lay down on the floor and cried and slept.

Oh… I wrote that piece around the time that I had some suicide scares with loved ones that triggered my own suicidal thoughts as well. Hearing that it stopped you from harming yourself is really making me emotional. Thank you for that choice and for telling me about it.

That thought that “it’s worth it to stay alive not to put my loved ones through that grief” is also what kept me from harming myself once. For a while, it was the only reason I had at all. But since then, I’ve found a lot more reasons. I know that it probably sounds hollow coming from someone who doesn’t know you or your situation, but I really believe that just the potential of finding reasons to live is in itself a strong reason. I hope that kinder times are coming soon for you and that you will eat good food in good company and be treated with love and kindness and find the resources and advocacy that you need. And for my part I will keep working as best I can to build spaces in this world where people can find those things. I think I said something in the tags of that post about how keeping each other on this earth is the whole point of everything and I still believe that. I’m glad if I was able to keep you here on this earth with me even for just a little while. All my love and solidarity to you, anon.

#asks #anon

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rawritzrobin · 1 year

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Brooding Alpha

Characters: Derek Hale, Stilinski!Twin, Scott McCall, Stiles Silinski

Pairings: Derek Hale x Stilinski!Twin Reader

Summary: You already had a brother and dad who treated you like a baby. You didn’t need a boyfriend who did as well.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None! Unless you count an overprotective wolf.

A/N: Winter break is here. :D Have some angst, with a happy ending.

“I can take care of myself Derek. You don’t always have to treat me like a porcelain doll.” Your eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“Babe, there’s a group of alphas out for blood. It’s clear they have some vendetta against me. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have gone after my betas. They want to hurt me and the easiest way is through you.”

“They’re not going to do something in broad daylight! I can’t just skip school and stay here so you can watch all day like a little puppy.”

You were in Derek’s loft, waiting for Stiles to pick you up. Instead of going to Heather’s party, you decided you wanted to keep Derek and Isaac company for the night. You had grown to love Isaac like a third brother, Scott being number 2. It hurt to see him so scared.

You told Stiles you didn’t want to go to Heather’s party because you and Isaac had to work on a school project together. He was too busy thinking about Heather to care whether or not you were attending. You were hoping for a relaxing night with Derek and Isaac. Maybe a movie and some cuddles with your Alpha. That wasn’t the case.

“Besides, Scott and Stiles are with me 24/7. Isaac too! And you forget that Alison comes from a family of trained hunters! Also, my dad is still the sheriff!” You emphasized the last sentence by raising your hands up high and huffed in annoyance. You were sick of everyone around you treating you like a baby. Stiles and your dad were already so overprotective of you. You didn’t need another man in your life who saw you as a weak damsel in distress.

“You know I don’t think that Y/N/N. I just want to make sure you’re safe. And the safest place is here with me at the loft, not at school with a pair of twin alphas!”

“No means no Derek. I’m not staying here.” You said before storming out of the loft. Derek wasted no time chasing after you. Isaac stayed out of your lover's spat. Lucky him.

“Where are you going?” He asked with a hint of anger and annoyance in his voice.

“Stiles should be here soon. Or do you not trust me walking down the stairs to the entrance by myself? Do I need a big strong man to walk me to my brother's car too?” You said, not bothering to turn around.

“Y/N! Listen to yourself…”

“I am Derek. And unlike you I trust that I can take care of myself.” You spat back at him. A part of you knew he was just being a good boyfriend that was concerned about his girlfriend’s well being, but you were too angry at the moment to think logically.

“Don’t come by tonight.” You tried to say angrily. It only came out kind of sad.

Derek stopped in his tracks. Derek stopped by almost every night ever since he stayed over that first night. It was nice, for the both of you to have someone on those lonely nights. It had become a kind of routine for you both. Comfort when you both needed it.

You didn’t turn around to see his reaction. You pushed open the front door of the building, just in time to see the blue Jeep pull up. You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and faked a smile.

“How was the party?” You asked as you quickly jumped in.

Stiles sighed in annoyance. “Don’t want to talk about it.” He said.

Bummer. Looks like we both had a rough night.

“Hey, let's stop by the movie rental place and grab a movie and some snacks?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. Stiles looked down at you and his eyes softened. It had been a while since you two spent some time together. Well some time together that didn’t involve a supernatural being. He kind of missed it. Though he would never outright tell you.

“Only if I get to pick the movie.”

You laughed. “Okay fine. But I get to pick the snacks!”

“Deal!” He said loudly and started making his way to the movie store.

*****

After watching Stiles’ horrible not so scary movie and eating your weight in ice cream and chips, you two said your goodnights, and went to bed. You kept looking at your window, part of you expecting Derek to still show up tonight. You watched the time go by in silence, sleep never catching you once.

1 AM became 2. 2 became 3. You sighed in annoyance when the clock finally hit 3:30. You don’t know what you were expecting. You told him not to come. Why would he come? You were the one who wanted to prove you were capable of taking care of yourself anyways. You didn’t need him to hold you to sleep. You have been sleeping by yourself for years now.

You finally turned off your desk lamp and plopped your head onto your pillow. Sleep didn’t come easy that night. But you finally gave in eventually.

What you didn’t know was that there was a certain someone waiting in the woods that night. Derek sat himself against one of the large trees near your neighbors yard and waited until your night turned off before sulking off back to his loft. He wanted to apologize, but he was afraid of what you would do if he showed up when you specifically asked him not to. He knew how you were sometimes. You just needed some time to cool off.

You didn’t wake up to a good morning text that morning.

You laid in bed a little longer than usual. Stiles had to knock on your door to ask if you were ready before you pushed yourself off of your bed. Part of you just wanted to skip school and go straight to Derek’s loft and apologize. He was right to some degree. You weren’t going to give up and stay at his loft all day. But you did need to stop sneaking out at night and away from the pack.

School went by in a blur. Stiles and Scott could tell there was something off about you. You hadn’t said a word all day and wasn’t actually glued to your phone for once.

“Everything okay?” Scott asked. Scott was one of the ones who knew about you and Derek. It was really hard to hide the fact that you always smelled like him. He had his suspicions, and confirmed his suspicions when he walked in on you kissing Derek the night you two rescued him from Kate.

“It’s nothing. Derek and I had a fight last night.” Stiles ran off to the library to do some research on something. It was just you and Isaac so it was a safe place for you and Scott to talk about Derek.

“Just so you know, Derek wasn’t all too happy this morning either Y/N.”

You just sank into your chair further. You shouldn’t have said what you said last night.

“Scott, I found it!” Stiles screamed, jumping onto the back of you and Scott. Clearly not sensing the mood around him. “Oh and Y/N, can you hitch a ride with Lydia after school today? I have to stay late today for detention.”

“Ugh Stiles. What did you do this time?”

“I had to borrow some books from a certain teacher’s collection. It happened to be locked in his desk and someone happened to catch me. But I found the info we need!”

Great. You thought to yourself. You knew Lydia didn’t drive today and that she had a date with Jackson after school.

“I can take you.” Isaac offered. You smiled. You loved Isaac. He was the closest thing to Derek you had right now.

After school Isaac and Scott walked with you to the parking lot. You were too distracted all day to realize Isaac didn’t have a car. Before you could say anything, you saw a very familiar black Camero sitting in the back of the parking lot. You looked up and glared at Isaac, fully aware of his scheme now.

“I can’t stand it when you and Derek fight. I have to deal with his moody self at home, and then your moody self at school. It’s too much brooding for me.”

You tried to turn around in the other direction, but Isaac quickly grabbed your shoulder before you could turn.

“Common. He’s just giving us a lift home.” He said pushing you forward. Scott opened the door for you and you stepped in, avoiding eye contact with Derek. You could feel his eyes on you though.

“Hey Isaac don’t we have that history project we need to work on?” Scott said suddenly.

“Oh I forgot about that! You go along first Y/N. Stiles can take me home when he's done with detention.” He said quickly, closing the door behind you. You huffed in annoyance and crossed your arms around your chest, frowning through the window. You tried your best to glare at the two boys walking away from the car, but to no avail.

“Y/N.” Derek said sadly.

You didn’t look at him, you crossed your arms tighter and turned away. You were still angry at the boys for tricking you.

“Y/N, i'm sorry. I-I shouldn’t have suggested that you couldn’t take care of yourself. Hell the one of the reasons I fell in love with you was because of the way you were able to handle yourself with those hunters that night. I know you’re strong enough to protect yourself. But I just.. Don’t want anything to happen to you because of me.” He said sadly.

You slowly looked in his direction. His hands were slumped to his side, and he held his head down. You noticed some dark bags under his eyes. You didn’t even know werewolves could get bags under their eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink last night. You were starting to feel guilty.

“I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.” He said in a whisper.

Derek couldn’t look up at you. He felt so guilty. Everything he said last night was just his strange way of wanting to keep you safe. He didn’t sleep at all. He kept trying to think of ways to apologize to you. Thank god Isaac texted him when he did. He wasted no time getting here.

“Der.” You said, quietly.

Derek looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes. You smiled at him and placed your hand on his thigh. He took your hand in his.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You said giving his hand a light squeeze. “You need to trust me though. I'm not just some stupid high schooler who goes looking for trouble.”

Derek raised his eyebrows at that one.

“Okay I am. But you also have to trust that I know what I’m doing and that I have a circle that is capable of keeping me safe. Let’s also not forget that my dad is the sheriff of the town and he made me take at least 50 self defense classes when I was little.” You said with a smirk.

“Okay fine. But only because I know Isaac, Erica, and Boyd are always with you. When I’m not around.”

“What about Stiles and Scott?”

Derek laughed. You chuckled too after realizing what you said. You leaned back into your chair and relaxed, never letting go of his hand.

“Let’s say we go home yeah? Well, your home. My dad might shoot you on sight if you show up at our place during the day.”

Derek laughed and quickly drove you two back to his place.

Later that night, Isaac walked in on you two cuddling and laughing on Derek’s couch. You gave him a thankful smile when he walked past you two.

He walked away smiling as well. It was always good to see papa and mama wolf in a good mood.

#Derek Hale x reader #Derek hale x y/n #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #Teen Wolf x Reader #Derek Hale x You #Derek x Reader #Derek Hale Imagine #Derek Hale One Shot #Teen Wolf Fanfiction #stilinski!twin #iwritethings

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linghxr · 4 months

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My 2023 in Mandopop/Chinese music (update & recs)

It’s been too long since I last shared some music recommendations/updates on what I’m listening to! Admittedly, I haven’t been discovering as many new artists because I’m busy listening to 薛之谦 on repeat. But we'll focus on the new.

You can check out my Spotify playlist featuring these songs (plus bonus ones). In addition, I’ve included YouTube links below.

五月天 / Mayday 五月天 is a legendary band, so of course I knew of them and had heard a few of their songs over the years. But I never proactively sought out their music until recently. I still haven’t had time to dive into their back catalog, but I’ve already found some songs I really love.

《我又初恋了》 I actually really didn’t like this song the first time I heard it, but it wormed its way into my brain. It’s just a lot of fun! Non-serious songs can be good too.

《转眼》 My favorite 五月天 song <3. I’m probably too young to fully appreciate the lyrics, but they make me feel so nostalgic and bittersweet, like transitioning to a new chapter of life and leaving the old behind.

《因为你所以我》 This song didn’t stand out to me at first, but it grew on me! I caught myself humming it a lot. It‘s kind of corny, but it sounds so full of hope.

陈奕迅 / Eason Chan I first started listening to 陈奕迅 a couple years ago after my Album a Day August challenge, but I’ve found that his music has grown on me over time. I believe I’ve only mentioned him once before, so I thought now was a good time to highlight my favorite of his songs.

《之外》 This is probably my favorite 陈奕迅 song. The lyrics convey a sense of hopelessness, but the overall song has a smooth, light sound.

《娱乐天空》 You know a song is good when it’s over 6 minutes long but feels like it flies by! It makes me want to get up, get moving, and be productive.

《烟味》 This song is dramatic, and I love it for that. Also has a hint of orchestral flavor.

《淘汰》 One of 陈奕迅’s most well-known songs—for a good reason. It has big Cpop ballad vibes but is definitely livelier.

白举纲 / Bai Jugang You’re going to notice several mentions of 披荆斩棘 in this post. That’s where I “met” 白举纲. I instantly liked his voice and loved seeing him with his “brother” 高瀚宇 and “dad” 张晋! You may also see his music under his English name, Pax Congo.

《被动失控》 This is the only song on the list you could headbang to.

《Shy Boy》 I love this song because it’s cute and includes a children’s rhyme that I learned as a kid: 找啊找啊找朋友找到一个好朋友.

苏诗丁 / Su Shiding At some point last year I did a one-month free trial of Apple Music. It was an interesting experience because the recommendations were very different from what Spotify tends to show me. I’m glad Apple Music led me to 苏诗丁!

《LUCIFER（傲慢宗罪）》 All I can say is that this song exudes coolness and confidence. It also has a fair bit of English, but honestly I had to look up the lyrics to tell what some of it was.

《梦幻病》 This song is from the same album. It’s dreamlike but gets more frantic as it builds. Overall, it’s just a bit…unsettling.

队长 / Young Captain I learned about 队长 from a random post on Instagram about his concert in Malaysia. I think these songs might have gone viral on 抖音 or something. I was surprised I liked them so much because they both have some rap (I’m not a rap fan), but it was love at first listen.

《11》 I love how this song builds towards the end. I spend the whole song waiting for the crescendo, and it’s great payoff.

《楼顶上的小斑鸠》 This song is like the slightly mellower sibling of the one above. But I ended up liking this one even more.

金志文 / Jin Zhiwen 金志文 was another artist who Apple Music recommended to me. I definitely need to explore his discography more but haven’t had the chance to do so yet. But he has some good stuff so far!

《自娱自乐》 Smooth and relaxing but in a fun way. Simple and no-frills but will put a smile on your face!

《远走高飞》 This one feels like enjoying the breeze on a beautiful sunny day. I also enjoy the duet with 徐佳莹 version.

163braces 163braces started out as a YouTuber posting song covers. I have watched a couple of her covers, but they didn’t leave much of an impression on me. I was pleasantly surprised by her foray into original music. I look forward to hearing what she does next!

《控制》 The song I would want as my “soundtrack” if I were a video game character. It’s energetic and loud.

《murmur》 Honestly this song is pretty similar to the first one. Sometimes I have trouble distinguishing them. But hey, if ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

小鬼 / Lil Ghost 小鬼 did what I can best describe as “pulling an MGK” by going from more rap to kinda pop-punk? That MGK album was my guilty pleasure when in came out, so I’m all for 小鬼’s new direction.

《Last Day》 This song really gave me MGK vibes. It’s about half in English, but I often don't even notice when he switches between languages.

《不良少年》 I just know I would have loved this song so much in high school. It’s an angsty teen anthem.

《为明天写封信》 I can totally imagine this song playing at the end of a 2000s teen movie! Maybe while showing a montage of the main characters graduating.

《无所求必满载而归》 by 陈粒 / Chen Li This is technically cheating because I have recommended 陈粒 songs before, but it was at least a couple years ago. I heard this song covered on 披荆斩棘的哥哥 and immediately looked up the original. Honestly I should have known it was a 陈粒 song because you can totally tell it’s her style.

《轻红》 by 曹杨 / Young I keep coming back to this song! It’s from a drama soundtrack. I was super surprised the first time I listened to it because I thought it was going to be a typical ballad based on the first ~45 seconds or so—it wasn’t. There is also another version by 陈雪燃 (the king of cdrama OSTs). But I actually prefer the 曹杨 version.

《时光机》 by 吴克群 / Kenji Wu I was introduced to 吴克群 via 披荆斩棘2. He was instantly one of my favorite contestants after his team’s amazing 《新地球》 performance (check it out). This song is bouncy and a little dreamy. I kinda want to hear a remix with Harry Styles’ As It Was. I just wish it were longer than 3 minutes!

My Spotify Wrapped

I have a tradition of sharing my Spotify Wrapped, and I wanted to continue the streak in some form. So here's a quick rundown.

Top genre: 华语流行音乐 Representative city: Taipei Minutes: 21,750

Top artists

薛之谦 / Xue Zhiqian

林宥嘉 / Yoga Lin

五月天 / Mayday

李荣浩 / Li Ronghao

陈奕迅 / Eason Chan

Top songs

《木偶人》 - 薛之谦

《狐狸》 - 薛之谦

《骆驼》 - 薛之谦

《转眼》 - 五月天

《后来的我们》 - 五月天

Also, fellow Mandopop fans should check out the Mando Gap newsletter. I stumbled upon it this year, and I know it’s going to be a great resource for discovering new artists in 2024!

#chinese music recs #cpop #c-pop #c pop #mandopop #chinese music #chinese #mandarin #mandarin chinese #chinese language #studyblr #langblr #learning languages #language learning #chinese langblr #mandarin langblr #languageblr

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 11 months

Text

Bluebird — Part IV — (Azriel x Reader)

Hey! Here’s Part IIII to this! Thank you for being lovely about it. 💕

Warnings: None for this part!

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Your fingers danced across the piano keys with a mind entirely of their own.

Sheet music sat before you, but you didn’t need to glance at it. This was pure muscle memory. Your favourite piece, memorised note by note. Playing it always felt like breathing for the first time.

Arrival of the Bluebird, it was called. You couldn’t help smiling as you played.

The notes climbed and fell in their flawless way, always like the calming ebb and flow of a tide. You soaked it in, your eyes closed, your skin prickling at the music caressing you—

A soft rustle sounded behind you. A rude awakening.

Two thoughts struck you at that moment.

The first — that you’d never played for anyone but yourself. To have a spectator felt like parading naked through the village.

And the second — that said spectator was, bizarrely, of the same ilk that you had been raised to detest.

A shadow moved in your periphery, and your fingers fell still, the music coming to an abrupt stop.

The creature — Azriel — loomed at your side, his gaze intent on where your hands had sat.

“Beautiful.” He murmured softly. “You play so flawlessly.”

It seemed so, so strange, so wrong, to sit and chat casually with a creature of such bloodshed. Like the tune had washed over you and made you truly aware of the situation. Of the action you’d taken.

You’d let him into your home.

You’d helped him when he’d been more or less incapacitated. When you probably had the advantage to strike and make a killing blow. To rid the world of one of its demons.

And now you were playing music for him. Had he…had he enchanted you, somehow? Some faerie magic, perhaps, that put you at such ease? That made you forget who you were alone in a building with?

Your body was taut as a bowstring as you slowly swivelled on the stool to face him. And his beauty struck you speechless again.

He offered you a smile. One that was small and reserved, and yet held such devastating charm. You quickly forced your eyes away.

“Who taught you to play?” He asked softly.

Your hands twisted around each other as you answered, “I taught myself.”

“Entirely by yourself?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “Some people can’t reach such skill even with honed, esteemed pianists to master them. It must be in your blood.”

You’d always thought so. The piano had been here your entire life — your fingers had inched towards it for as long as you could remember.

“I’m told my mother used to play.” You said. That sore spot in your heart stung at the mere mention of the parent you’d never known. “The piano used to be out in the bar area. My father told me that she used to play every night, and people would flock to the inn just to listen.”

There was a heavy, unmissable pause. You were sure you noticed Azriel’s shoulders stiffening out of the corner of your eye.

“Used to?” He asked quietly. “Is she…is she no longer alive?”

You turned your gaze on him, sure it appeared as blazing as you felt. “I never knew her. She was murdered. By your kind.”

“By my kind?”

“By a group of High Fae.”

Another pause. Azriel’s head dipped a fraction, his eyes lowering to the ground.

“That’s awful.” His voice was soft. Unbearably gentle. “I’m truly sorry that you suffered such a loss. However…I’m not High Fae.”

The declaration was enough for you to narrow your gaze on him. He certainly looked High Fae; you were sure there wasn’t a human in the world who carried such flawless beauty, nor the preternatural stillness that only a honed, immortal being could master.

Azriel smiled wryly, like he knew you were searching for some physical evidence of what he’d said. He turned his head to the side, his fingers moving up to brush the shell of his ear.

A very rounded ear. No pointed tip.

“I hail from a warrior-race of the fae called Illyrians.” He explained. “We’re fae, but…certainly not High Fae.”

You stared at him.

At those rounded ears. The scarred fingers.

As if not being High Fae somehow erased all that had been done.

It didn’t.

You shrugged rather brusquely. “Makes no difference to me. Aren’t all fae the same, with a history steeped in violence? I hate violence.”

“…Blood has been spilled on both sides of the Wall—”

“I hate it.” You cut him off. “Too many people resort to violence needlessly. I see it every single night working in this place. And for fragile humans like ourselves, all it can take is one strike to finish a person off. I wish people — human and Fae — thought more before deciding violence as their route. Perhaps if they did, I wouldn’t have grown up without a mother.”

It was the most you’d said to Azriel in one breath. And you waited for his defensiveness, for him to tell you your thoughts were somehow wrong.

But he simply stared at you, an unreadable expression on his face. And his response wasn’t what you anticipated.

“You’re not wrong.” His voice was like wrapping yourself in silk. “I’m sorry you’ve seen such violence. I’m glad you have music to escape to, at least.”

You stared back at him, your thoughts emptying for a moment. You willed yourself not to be intimidated by the beauty; by the deadliness of it. He could probably snuff out your life without anyone hearing so much as a squeak from you—

“Are you going to kill me now?” You blurted, rather pathetically.

Azriel’s steeled face twitched just slightly; the only reaction to your question.

It surprised you as he retreated a step. Put more distance between you.

“Why are you so convinced that I want to kill you?” He asked quietly.

“Am I supposed to believe it a coincidence that a Fae male begins appearing in these parts at the same time that the girls in this village are being murdered?”

His brow furrowed. “Girls are being murdered?”

“Yes. The Village Guards have found them brutally slain, and then you appear. If I’m to be next, I’d really appreciate it if you don’t leave me to be found by my father in that condition.”

“I haven’t killed anyone in this village, and I’m not going to kill you.”

His words should have reassured you. But you honed in on the sentence. Saw it for what it was.

He hadn’t killed anyone in this village.

But he’d killed elsewhere.

Bile rose up in your throat as you stared at him. And as he studied your fearful expression, he sighed. Looked away.

“What I told you was true. I was passing by, and I heard your music, and I wanted to hear more. But I don’t wish to frighten you.” He retreated another step. “Perhaps I should go—”

He was cut off by a thump so abrupt, it had you jumping out of your skin. Azriel quickly looked up.

Another thump, followed by a third.

“It’s the door.” You quickly stood, brushing yourself down. “I should answer.”

He pressed himself against the wall as you brushed past him, hurrying through to unlock the front door. You pulled it open a fraction, narrowing your eyes at the darkened figure on your doorstep.

Kiall. He looked…wired. Stimulated. But he didn’t stink of booze, for once.

“I’m sorry about the music.” You said before he could speak. “I didn’t realise how late it had got—”

“I’m not here about your little piano.” The older, scruffy male looked around feverishly. “I shot one down. A Fae. That fucking winged bastard from the alley. Got him right through those wings. He was flying above the village and I got him.”

You swallowed. Pulled the door a little closer to you. If Kiall — or anyone — knew that you had a Fae in your home, you’d be done for. Probably killed right alongside him.

Unless, of course, you gave him up. Disabled him somehow and turned him over to the Village Guards. Perhaps those ash arrows, still lying in the puddle of his blood, could still be of some use—

“Where is the Fae now?” You blurted, blocking Kiall’s minuscule glimpse into your home. “Have the Guards dealt with him?”

“No.” Kiall sneered. “He got away someplace. Probably bleeding out somewhere nearby. I wanted to know if you’d seen or heard anything.”

This was your chance.

Kiall could help you.

Azriel had regained most of his strength, but he’d been caught unaware once already. Surely the two of you could deal with him.

And then you’d never have to worry about him hanging around here again. Watching you. Watching and—

And listening to your music.

If he was to be believed…that was all he’d lingered for.

You didn’t really know why you did it. It probably made you an utter fool. But you swallowed and schooled your expression, shaking your head.

“I didn’t see or hear anything.” You lied. “Like I said — I was playing music.”

Kiall studied you for a moment. And you wondered if, perhaps, the untruth lay blatantly on your face, in your eyes. The Bluebird Inn — your family business and home — was the hub of this little community. Everybody knew you. Everybody knew that you were the daughter of the Fae-hating innkeeper, and the woman who had been murdered by their kind. That you were raised to hate them just as fiercely.

To have one right here, in these very walls…to have helped him, and to now protect him…

You had utterly, utterly lost your mind. But you let none of that show.

“If I see or hear anything suspicious, I’ll report it right away.” You said.

Kiall eyeballed you again. “You do that, Y/N.”

“I will. I’m going to go to bed now.”

“Be sure to lock your doors. Don’t want to end up like those other village girls.”

A shiver ran down your back. But you nodded. “I will.” You repeated. “Thank you.”

Kiall had always been a strange person. His reputation for being a drunk was known from one end of the village to the other. But being the one who served him most of those drinks, you saw something more. An ever-present, crazed look in his eye, like he was always on alert, always ready — and happy — to attack. Many of the brawls in the tavern had been started by him over nothing.

That crazed look stayed trained on you, now, as he slowly backed away from your front door. And when a good distance was between you, you pushed it firmly shut. Locked and deadbolted it. Released a long, deep breath.

You slumped against the door, blinking forward.

You’d lied. You’d actually lied. All those years of your father telling you what to do if you came face-to-face with a Fae, and what had you done? Played him music.

And then protected him from the wrath of other villagers.

Maybe you were the crazed one. Maybe—

Soft footsteps thudded against the floor. You looked up as Azriel slowly approached, keeping a great distance away. He studied you unsurely; you had no doubt that he’d heard every word. That he knew what you’d done.

“Are you alright?” His voice was so gentle, so quiet; something you knew no human voice could ever master.

Are you alright? When was the last time anyone had asked you that?—

You knew precisely when. When Azriel had stepped in and protected you from Kiall’s drunken ranting in the alley.

You stared up at him — those hazel eyes — and wondered why. Why he seemed to care.

And why it made you feel good.

“I’m alright.” You eventually answered, pushing to your feet. “You should…probably go, though.”

He dipped his chin. “Thank you — for what you did just then. And for pulling those arrows out. And for sharing your beautiful music.”

Your beautiful music. The words almost knocked you breathless.

To hear someone appreciate it so freely—

That, you told yourself, was why you asked, “Will you come back and listen again?”

You could have sworn Azriel’s lips twitched. “I’d certainly like to.”

Insane. This entire thing was insane. You with a Fae in your house, engaging in pleasant conversation. You more or less inviting him back.

But you couldn’t stop yourself.

You dipped your head, staring at the floor. “Will it be safe? Flying, I mean — with the injuries. And with Kiall still snooping around.”

“I have enough strength to get home without flying, now.” Azriel nodded. “I’ll be alright. And what of you?”

“What of me?”

“Will you be alright?”

Yes? No? You weren’t sure. Possibly not. You weren’t entirely convinced that you wouldn’t collapse under the entire, bizarre weight of the night’s events. You were in need of a stiff drink yourself.

But you nodded, all the same. “I’ll be alright.”

A moment passed of nothing. No sound, no movement. Neither of you took a step forward or back.

But then Azriel inclined his head. “Goodnight, then. Sleep well.”

“You—”

Before your very eyes — before you could complete your sentence — he disappeared into thin air. You blinked at the space that he’d vacated. And at the words you knew you were about to speak.

You sleep well, too.

Well-wishes to a Fae. You almost laughed at yourself.

But as you stepped past the spot in which Azriel had stood, you paused at the scent that lingered. And inhaled.

A scent like…like fresh, undisturbed snow. Frosty nights and cedarwood.

It was calming. Soothing. You felt it wash over you, like a blanket of security.

You stood there for a moment longer, and then made your way into the bar area to clean up. And fix yourself that drink.

And you found yourself continuously glancing out of the window. Wondering if Azriel truly would come back.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

Azriel didn’t consider the fact that he looked a little worse for wear.

That blood still stained his wings, his clothes, his skin.

That his hair made him appear like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. That he looked as though he could use at least three weeks’ worth of sleep.

Honed spymaster, indeed.

He traipsed into Rhysand’s office. The High Lord immediately sat up in his chair, relief filling his eyes.

“Don’t go quiet on me like that, asshole.” He admonished. “I couldn’t reach you.”

“Sorry.” Az winced slightly as he lowered himself into his chair; the wings were still a little sore. “Took a couple of ash arrows to the wings.”

Rhys stared back at him. “So it’s true, then. The humans are trying to rise up against us.”

“A whole group of them are travelling from village to village, spreading the word of their cause and trying to rally forces. They’re serious about this.”

Rhys slumped back, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Why now, though?”

Slowly, Azriel shook his head. “I think they’re using a whole number of reasons to justify it to themselves. They’re incensed about the land we have, the lives we live…a bunch of things. But…there have been attacks in one village. A few women have been slain. I think the Village Guards are spreading the word that they’re Fae attacks.”

“And do you believe them to be?”

“Not sure. I’d have to investigate it further.”

Rhys firmly shook his head. “I don’t want you going near those villages again for the time being. Not if they’ve got ash arrows in their arsenal.”

Azriel sat up. Tried not to wince. “The bastard had no more than two—”

“I’m not risking anything until we know exactly what we’re dealing with. We wait to see what move they make next; it could all just be talk, and I’m not risking you for some human gossip. I want you here, alerting the other courts that we may have an issue on our hands. Understood?”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. Yes, he understood. He understood his High Lord’s order perfectly well, but he didn’t have to like it. He wanted to go back to the village, ash arrows or no ash arrows. He wanted to hear the music again, to talk to Y/N again—

“Understood, Azriel?” Rhysand repeated.

“Yes.” The shadowsinger gritted out. “Understood.”

“Good.” Just like that, Rhys was shucking off his title; sitting back and becoming a brother again. His face softened. “Go get some rest. You need it.”

Azriel stood without a word, dragging his feet from the room.

He wouldn’t disobey Rhys’s orders.

But Cauldron fucking boil him, something nagged at him to do exactly that.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *

Weeks passed. And there was no dark, passing figure in the skies. No booming clap of wings.

And your disappointment at Azriel’s absence frightened you far more than his presence ever had.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 6 months

Text

A Dark Love

Summary: Two murders on the run in the 70’s fall in love.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, murder, death obvi, gore, smut, knife kink, blood kink, mentions of cannibalism, lots of angst,just a warning this is kind of heavy! So if you don’t feel comfy don’t read ❤️‍🔥

Wc:3.8k

Y/n is sure that man is watching her every move. Either that, or it’s her paranoia building up after being on the run for ten days.

Ten whole days without a single cop glancing her way, after murdering two men at a bar she thought they would at least have a lead on her, but nothing. Nothing for a whole year. Since the news broke of several different men carelessly slashing women, Y/n has decided if men can kill women for no good reason, she can kill men for no reason. It’s better to have no men on the planet than only a few good ones.

Her first was Tommy. Thirty two, blue eyes, brown hair, two hundred and three pounds, born January fourth nineteen forty two. He lives alone in a two bedroom apartment, his room filled with porno mags and disgusting memorabilia of past girls he obsessed over until his last moment.

Y/n met him behind a bar just ten hours after the news about Lynda Ann Healy broke. Y/n was so disgusted and horrified that she fell into a spell once he tried pulling her back into his busted Red Ford pinto that she killed him right then and there, pulling the sharp buckle from her belt and stabbing him, walking all the way back home will bright crimson blood dripping from her face.

That night she discovered her new love. She had always adored taking care of herself, taking it slow and appreciating the simple things in life, like a hot bath or a new rose scented face cream- but nothing made her feel quite better than seeing her plump young skin masked in a coat of blood. She felt like she was reborn, branded into a new woman with a new fresh hungry need to kill.

Since that night she’s been slashing into any man she can, the more bloody the better for her, bathing in the thick blood like it is a luxurious skin cream. Now she’s up to fifteen bodies.

“Have a problem?” Y/n calls over, feeling the cool metal of her dagger press into the plump skin of her thigh to make sure it was still right where she wanted it. There was nothing she loved more than leading a man down onto his knees for his last sight to be her uncovering her sharp blade.

The man is handsome, standing tall with a slim but sturdy build, Tattoos, silky hair piled on top of his head- he obviously hasn’t gotten a haircut in a few months, big green eyes, a mustache dusted above his lip, dressed in some button up shirt with all too tight pants.

She can have a little fun with him before she kills him.

“Not at all, sweet thing.” He shoots her a wink before lighting a joint, taking a drag from it then passing it off to her. She pushes it back toward him but takes her place leaning next to him against his shiny blue car. “No thanks.” He lets out a tiny laugh, pulling it back to his mouth instead. “Your loss.” He breathes out, smoke falling from his mouth.

“I don’t smoke strangers' pot.” Y/n says, glancing up at the man. He smiles, “Then let me introduce myself. I’m Harry. Now we know each other, babe.” She rolls her eyes, stepping back. “I can already tell you’re an asshole.” He tosses his arms out, “c’mon, I don’t bite.” A large smile spreads on his lips, but she ignores it and walks back to the car.

Y/n isn’t quite sure why the man’s stupid words bothered her so much, but she had a feeling about him and something was off. She walks a few feet back to her car before getting inside and starting it up. Shoving the key in and twisting it she realizes the old car finally bit the dust, merely taunting her with a cough but no roar to start.

Her head turns at the noise, seeing Harry roll up next to her. “Looks like you need a ride.” She rolls her eyes, grabbing her couple of bags and stuffing them in his car before flopping into his passenger seat. The car was stolen so she wouldn’t miss it.

What’s the worst that could happen? If he tried something she would just plunge her dagger straight into his heart… but she would lose her cool if her favorite corduroy skirt happened to get blood splatter on it.

“Where are you going?” He asks, glancing over her tight and reserved body language. “Anywhere.” The

“Seriously, where are you going? I thought we were over that stranger danger shit.” Y/ns rolls her eyes at the man, picking at her manicured nails to avoid his gaze. “I’m just going.” it's his turn to roll his eyes, scoffing at her. “Seriously,”

“Get off my case, asshole. You need to take a chill pill.”

“I need to chill?! You need to stop being so fucking up tight!” The second he raises his voice at her she spreads her legs and pulls her dagger from the inside of her thigh, gripping it tight in her hand while he throws his up in surrender.``Hey, Hey, Hey” he rushes out, getting her to back off. “Either fuck off or ill slit your throat. It’s up to you Harry.” She says with a sweet smile, her heart racing from the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the excitement of possibly getting a small taste of the pretty boy's blood.

“Jesus, sorry.” She gives a tiny nod at his apology and backs down, but not before he starts chuckling. “But you wouldnt of stabbed me.'' He raises her hand again, carelessly aiming to just teach him a lesson instead of actually killing him.

“Fuck!” He shouts, blood pouring from his hand. “Dont get it on my fucking skirt!” she shouts back, groaning at a little drop of blood soaking into her skirt. Harry quickly pulls the silky wrap she had tied around her hair and wraps it around his hand to stop the bleeding.

After their panic settled they both let out a shaky breath before Harry pulled her in, grabbing her knife and pressing his lips to hers. “That was so fucking hot but if you ever do that again I will kill you.”

The car is stopped in the middle of the road but that doesn’t stop them from tearing off each other's clothes. She yanks Harry’s button up shirt open while he peels her panties down her legs. She takes her turn and unbuckles his belt, shoving her hand down his pants and pulling his cock out.

Hushed words are exchanged as she slides his big cock deep inside of her pussy, licking the fresh blood that drips down his wrists as he thrusts in and out of her from under her.

Harry holds her dagger against her neck, the sharp blade scraping against her delicate skin. She lets out a moan, her mouth and chin covered in his blood. He kisses her, his tongue slipping inside of her mouth to taste her.

“I can’t believe you stabbed me.” He laughs on her lips, softly dragging the knife down her throat before pressing it between her breasts. He kisses her one last time before pulling away breathlessly, “if you ever try that again, I promise, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” He presses the tip of the dagger into her chest enough to draw a bit of blood then pulls it away.

To be clear, Harry has never killed a woman. Really just killing random men, slitting their throats or strangling them when he notices they are following a young girl home, or slipping a pill in someone’s drink, only for good reason. He’s not a psychopath, he’s only murdered 12 people!

“I’m cumming, fuck.” Y/n cums, letting out a moan and pulling herself away from the man.

After they dress themselves, Harry returns to driving, stepping on the gas and riding down the old country road. It was an absolute ghost town, corn fields, boarded up farm houses, and abandoned shops are the only things left in the old town. Y/n loved this. This was the kind of place she could stay in forever, a town where there are little people and no one cares to get to know the tiny population.

She might consider settling down here, there’s only a gas station and a tiny grocery store, but even those are smaller than the average small town shops. This looked like a lowkey spot to hide out in, or maybe it is something straight out of a horror film- but so is she.

“Pull over” Y/n finally speaks up after about twenty minutes of driving in silence. There was a tiny yellow motel, paint chipping and graffiti covered all along the exterior. “What?” Y/n rolls her eyes at his questioning she grabs the wheel from him and drives through the grass and into the parking lot of the rundown motel. “What the fuck?!” Harry yells, quickly putting the car in park. Y/n jumps out before she can hear any of his bitching and walks through the motel and into a check out counter.

Behind the counter there is a man, a short but sturdy build man with clown makeup on. Any normal person passing through this town and stopping at the motel for a safe place to lay their head for a night would be startled to see such a man behind the counter but this comforted Y/n. If the tall man was anything like her, she knew there wasn’t a chance the cops could bust her here.

“Howdy… Gus. I’m going to need a room for tonight.” She glances at the big wooden sign that reads “HOWDY” with a large cowboy hat burned into it. She isn’t sure where she is, but wherever she was she knew it was just a bunch of homicidal fucked up hicks.

“Single bed or two beds?” The man grumbles, a low deep voice coming out of such a short man. “Single bed.” Harry comes behind her, scoffing. “I’m going to need a room too.”

“Bad news, there’s only one room.”

“How many beds?” Y/n shoots up, hoping she doesn’t have to deal with this man for god knows how long. Yeah, he was just inside of her thirty minutes ago, but that doesn’t mean she wants anything to do with him.

“Only one.” Fucking classic.

“Well you can just keep on steppin’.” Harry shakes his head at her words. “No way, not after you drug me with this hell hole.” Y/n pulls a tight lipped smile, shoving her hand into her pocket aggressively and pulling out some bills and change to slam on the counter before snatching the key from Gus’ hand and stomping off.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

The door flies open while Y/n storms into it, almost hitting Harry with the heavy wooden door. When she takes a quick look-see around the room she is instantly disgusted with the orange shag carpet, the stiff avocado green bedspread and the brightly cartoonish art bolted to the wall. “Well isn’t this just fucking nifty.” She lets out a huff then throws herself back on the bed.

“You act like I’m not bummed out about this too! But we both need a place to crash and it might as well be with each other since we’re in the same boat. So, if you could stop your whining I’m going to clean up my hand.”

She looks away, rolling her eyes. “I won’t hesitate to whip out my blade on you again.” He tossed a hand out to her before locking himself in the bathroom.

Y/n takes this time to unpack her bags, which is really just unzipping them and then tossing them onto the floor.

She’s not sure why she was drawn to this place, but she had a good feeling about it. Sometimes she regrets hurting all those men, having to live such a quiet life, always being on the move and never stable. But she’s hoping soon enough the investigation will be closed. They have been working to figure out who is behind this string of murders for far too long and she knows if she just sticks it out a little while longer they will give up. She’s sad for the families grieving, but not sad that there is a couple less useless fucks in this already shitty world.

Hopefully she and Harry will get along. They got off to a rough start, and are still in a rough stop, but she thinks with a little work they could be partners in crime- no that she’s planning on killing any men while she’s in hiding, but if need be.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Where did you run off to?”

Y/n pushes open the motel door, kicking it shut with her heel and pulling her glass bottle of big red up to her lips for a swig. She dumps the big paper bag onto the entertainment center of the motel room, tossing a bag of chips at the man, then pulling her carton of cigs out and lighting one up. “Convenience store.” She mumbles through her exhale of smoke, flopping back on the squeaky bed where Harry sits up straight.

“If we’re going to be staying together we need to learn a little bit more about each other.” Y/n rolls her eyes, taking another drag off of her Marlboro. “Why are you suddenly Mister moral? Don’t you like…kill people?” Harry rolls his eyes, he’s grown increasingly agitated with her and if she wasn't such a pretty girl maybe he would kill her.

“Yeah, bad people. But that’s irrelevant. I hardly know you.”

“That didn’t stop you from fucking me in your car twenty minutes after we met, even after I stabbed you.” Harry stands up, shaking his head, leaning back and growing out of frustration. “You’ve got a smart fucking mouth.” She gives him a breathy chuckle. “Yeah?” She slowly rises to her feet, ashing her cigarette on the shag carpet and taking another drag from it. “What are you going to do about it?” He takes that as a challenge, grabbing her jaw with his bandaged band, four fingers on one side and his thumb on the other.

They lock eye contact for a couple of beats before Harry pushes his lips onto her, pushing her down onto the bed and unbuckling his belt. It was already three in the morning, and they both know people are sleeping but no one staying in this hell hole is resting well. She slides down the silky sleep shorts she had slid on along with a tattered graphic tee before heading off to the store. Y/n keeps her eyes on his hands as he pulls his belt off and pushes his trousers down.

Hushed words are exchanged and before either of them know it Harry is deep inside of her, lifting one leg to get deeper.

Y/n smiles blissfully, reaching for her dagger she had tossed on the bed and sliding it against his hip bone, making sure not to nick his sensitive skin with her piercing sharp knife. Harry grabs it from her hand, trailing it up her hot body and slowly makes his way up to her neck. He traces the blade around her ear, taking his time before he slides it against the side of her neck, making sure to be soft with her. She annoys the fuck out of him, she has a smart mouth and was too reserved for someone so mouthy, but he cant help but kind of adore her.

He quickly pulls out of her, cumming all over her pussy. “Oh fuck” she whispers, flopping her head back and relaxing into the bed.

Harry pushes her shirt up, kissing over her bare chest and trailing it down her stomach. She feels a fluttery feeling in her belly. Similar to how she feels after she comes home prior to slashing into a man, blood spraying all over her face. She gets to stand under the warm spray of her shower, watching the water go from crimson to clear and drain down, giving her skin a good scrub before sitting bare in front of her vanity and pampering herself with rich creams. She feels like she's being taken care of, such a light delicate feeling.

He sinks to his knees, spreading her legs wide and burying his face between them.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Rise ‘n shine.” Harry sings, shaking Y/n awake.

Y/n blinks her eyes open, groaning and getting in a good stretch so she's not so stiff. “What's on your face?” Harry's hand comes up to wipe at his face, examining the splatter he wipes off. “Oh, i'm not sure.” he walks into the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before stepping back into her vision.

“I've been thinking a lot this morning.”

“It’s seven in the morning, how much thinking can you do?” Harry shrugs at her questions, pushing his frankly, fabulous hair back and starting to gather his things together to pack in his hefty leather bag. “Like I was saying, I’ve kind of been thinking… let's leave. Let’s go find some other place to stay.”

Y/n whips her head back to him whilst she strips naked and starts the water in the pink tiled bathroom. “What the fuck are you talking about? I thought we decided that this was the perfect place to hide out! It’s a fucking ghost town here.”

Harry rocks back and forth then turns on his heel to start pacing back and forth in front of the messy bed from Y/n tossing and turning all night. “Not to get all weird but I can't talk to you when you're bare naked. it's tripping me out.” She scoffs, “Prude.” then steps into the shower.

“If you dont mind, make this shower lickety split. I'm itching to get out of this place!” Y/n groans at his nagging, quickly rinsing the shampoo out of her hair and squirting a rather large pile of cream white conditioner into her palm and working it into her hair. “Why are you so impatient? Why cant you take a fucking chill pill.”

“This place is just creeping me out, man. I gotta get out of here.” She groans again, feeling the irritation bubble up and begin to boil over. “We agreed that this is the perfect spot to stay. I'm already settled in. Why leave now?”

“Enough with all the questions, please.”

“Why?!”

“Cause I fucking killed Gus! Okay?! Now please, can you speed this the fuck up so we can get into my goddamn car so we can find some other place to stay?!” Y/n calming but quickly rinses her body off and steps out of the shower, drying herself off much too quickly, basically still dripping wet and she throws the towel into a tiny laundry basket. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Harry throws both of his hands out.

“Again! Jesus christ can you just put something on?”

“Oh my god!” She throws a shirt at him, sliding panties up her legs and quickly getting dressed, deciding to go simple with a pair of yellow corduroy flares and a black rolling stones tee shirt tucked into it. “I guess lets fucking go since you decided to murder someone.” She grabs her back and Harry trails right behind her, walking down the long dark hallway. “We're literally on the run to try to get out of murder charges and you decided to kill the dude behind the check-in counter. What the fuck was that for?” Harry grumbles, obviously growing more and more agitated by her never ending questions and attitude. “I dont want to talk about it.”

They hop in the car, and take off once again.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

They've been driving for a while.

If Y/n is honest, She’s kind of bummed that they had to leave that motel. At first she was just worried that they would catch wind of another murder and have her and Harry’s name tied to it, but thankfully their records are clean and Gus never took record of their stay. But now, she just misses it. It was a little spooky and there were other sketchy weirdos staying there but that comforted her more than anything.

Y/n thinks she's feeling a touch homesick, after moving into her previous apartment she finally had a place of her own to call home with no roommate, it was all to herself. Having no sense of stability, only being on the road was kind of messing with her, but as much as she doesnt want to admit it to herself- and especially to him, having Harry as a partner in crime has been really great.

“So, do you think youll ever go back to wherever you ran from?” Y/n shakes her head, her feet hung out of the window and a cigarette perched between her two fingers. “Nope. kind of starting fresh. Finding a whole new job and shit, a new place to stay. Maybe I’ll be an avon lady.” They both laugh at her joke. “Me too. Now that I've left there's no way I'm going back.”

“Can I ask you a question and get an honest answer this time?” Harry quickly glances at Y/n, “Sure.” There is a beat of silence before she speaks again. “Why did you kill Gus? I can tell it wasn’t just because he pissed you off. We stayed up talking all last night and you dont kill unless you've got a good reason.”

“So you want the honest answer?”

“Yeah”

“It was because of you.”

“Me?!” Y/n shouts, she hardly spoke a word to Gus.

“Yeah, he was telling me how hot he thought you were and for some reason I just kind of… lashed out.”

Y/n takes a moment to process it, ashing her cigarette and taking one last drag on it before putting it out in the car's ashtray. She clears her throat, “So what, do you think i'm your girlfriend or something now?”

“Well, if you want. I'm not uptight about shit like that or anything. We can just vibe it out.” Y/n softly laughs. “Okay, lover boy.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Y/n and Harry finally found a place to stay. Thankfully, Harry and Y/n both had good money saved up prior to them being on the run so they splurged at a nice hotel and decided to stay in the suite.

This time, Y/n didn't throw a fit when she had to stay in the same room and same bed as Harry. She lets him be a gentleman and he carries her bag up to their room. This time, its going to be different. This time they are going to stay put,find a spot for them to settle down together- not just in a hotel room. Maybe they will put their lives of crime behind them and stick together as one happy couple.

Maybe.

Hiiiii!!!! If you liked this PLEASE reblog!! I’ll love you forever and I doubt a lot of people are going to read this due to sensitive subject matter but hoping this will hit my target audience 😭 im really scared that this got boring towards the middle but it was inspired by house of 1000 corpses! hope you liked it !

Tag list: @harrysddtittys @hopeyoustaythenight @harrysdimple05 @damnasstyles @harrysfolklore @msolbesg @thismaydestroyme @stallrry @ayeshathestyles @michellekstyles @lhharrylilpumpkin @kissmyaxe140 @buckymydarlingangel @cherrycolas-things @luvonstyles @victoria-styles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite

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bless-my-demons · 9 months

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Redamancy: Chapter Eleven

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: Cannon typical violence

Notes: A few days late, so thank you for waiting! I had a rough weekend, but I couldn’t not put something out for you wonderful people that have shown me so much love for this story.

Word Count: 1491

Series Masterlist

• March 16th, 2005 • Bella’s Ballet Studio •

Reader

I swear, Isabella Swan sure knows how to talk me into some seriously stupid plans. Okay, so maybe she didn’t really talk me into joining her, but I couldn’t exactly let her go face a bloodthirsty vampire on her own. Two humans against one vampire, not much by the way of odds considering we have no means for being any kind of physical challenge.

We managed to slip past Alice and Jasper while they were in the lobby checking out. After getting a phone call from Edward that the nomads figured out the rouse, both he and Jasper decided to get us far away… whatever that means long-term.

“So… you got a plan?” I ask her once we exit the taxi.

Jasper is going to murder me for managing to run away from him undetected and throwing myself head first into danger.

“I hadn’t really thought that far, he’s got my mom Y/n.” She pauses a few seconds before turning to enter the ballet studio she attended as a kid and I follow.

It’s silent in the building until we enter the main studio room lined with mirrors.

“Bella! Bella? Bella-where are you?” I hear her mom call out.

“Mom?” Bella begins running in the direction of her voice with me hot on her heels, “Mom?” She asks again as she whips open the doors to a closet in the back of the room.

Only it’s empty. Except for a tv. Playing an old home-movie of Bella as a child.

“That’s my favorite part,” the nomad James taunts Bella as he stalks toward us, “You were a stubborn child, weren’t you?”

Renee isn’t here, never was.

Terror, absolute terror shocks through me. It’s a trap and we walked straight into it without even questioning it. Jasper and Alice don’t even know where we are, I can only hope they’ve even figured out we’re gone by now.

I turn to run to the doors we just entered through, if I could just get outside and call-

But James is there in a flash, hand fisted around my throat. “Leaving so soon? The party hasn’t started yet.” He throws me against a wall as he stalks forward to Isabella, “Have a seat, you won’t want to miss this.”

I continue to flash in and out of consciousness as he plays with the both of us, taunting Edward and Jasper in his twisted video. Breaking Bella’s leg, a blow to my side to keep me from running again, the pain was all-encompassing.

And my only thought was, I hope they find us in time.

“Darlin’, can you open your eyes for me?” Frantic words and cold fingers ghost over my skin.

I manage to crack one blurry eye open, “Jasper?” I croak out slightly confused. How long have I been out? Am I still in the studio?

“Carlisle!” Is the Jasper Hale panicking? I crack a smile on my busted lips and it earns me a line of questioning.

“What’s so funny, doll? Hmm?” Chilly hands continue to inspect my broken body, I can see his wide eyes flicking over my injuries. Not hunger - no, concern.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you panic, Hale.” I say calmly, at odds with the chaos stirring around us.

“Well, I’ve never seen you… like this. Because of me.” He won’t meet my gaze.

“Not because of you,” cough “I made the decision to tag along with Bella,” I paused to let out a particularly rough cough, “we thought he had,” another cough “her mom, we had to do something.”

“Carlisle, I need you!” He’s definitely panicking now, the tone in his voice getting harder the more labored my breathing.

“What’s-” but his dad stops mid-question as he slides up to the side not occupied by his son, his gaze accessing. “Talk to me Y/n, what hurts?”

“Uh, everything?” The stern look I receive from both men has me reconsidering. “Chest - feels like someone is sitting on it. Head definitely got smacked around and my arm-“ I try to lift it show Carlisle.

“Sprained at the wrist, but not broken. Ribs probably broken, maybe a punctured lung, definitely a concussion.” Jasper lets out a breath at his dad’s assessment like he’s been punched and I roll my head in his direction.

Carlisle turns to his son, “Help Emmett take care of James, I’ve got her.” He doesn’t offer him a comforting touch, as if Jasper’s distressed state were a palpable and volatile thing.

Jasper gives him a hard look for a few beats before nodding. Not sparing me a glance, he disappeared from my limited view before I could blink.

“I’m taking both you and Bella to the hospital, I don’t have the supplies to treat either one of you. I don’t have anything to even give you a needle decompression, like I suspect you need and soon.” Carlisle briefs me as he finishes up his assessment of my broken body.

“Don’t call my mom, please-“

“Y/n, she deserves to know you’re injured.” He replies softly. “And it’ll be impossible to avoid explaining your injuries when you return home.”

My open eye blinks slowly, trying to think of a plan that doesn’t involve freaking my mother out.

“Y/n?” Carlisle pats my cheek lightly to gain my attention, but I can’t hear him anymore. Muffled shouting and I’m lifted in a pair of arms that are semi-familiar. I groan in pain and I’m shushed gently before everything fades to black.

At least the darkness takes away the pain.

• March 18th, 2005 • Hospital - Phoenix, Arizona•

Jasper

Beep, beep, beep… The heart monitor grating on every exposed nerve in my chest. As someone not completely accustomed to an animal-only vampire diet, hospitals are a massive no-go, but I didn’t really have a choice. Not when it comes to her.

So I swallow the white-hot hunger and try to let the incessant beeping lull me into a meditative state. She’ll be okay, that’s what her doctor and my father told me.

Four broken ribs, a punctured lung, a sprained wrist, a fractured orbital bone, and a mild concussion. My hands tighten painfully to ground me in the moment, James is dead - hell, he’s ash now. He hurt her and now he no longer terrorizes my girl which is good enough for me, has to be.

I know he filmed it, Edward watched it, but I can’t bring myself to. After sensing his rage, I know I would absolutely combust from anger, to see his hands on her… I can’t. I can hardly stand to sit here across the room and see her face bruised and swollen, body covered with tubes and wires.

A sharp intake of breath pulls me from the dark recesses of my mind. I want to stand and walk to her, but I don’t quite have a grip on my control yet. Anger, hunger, or this terrified feeling lodged in my throat.

“Jaz?” She croaks out, not seeing me due to her eye injury obstructing her view.

“I’m here.” I assure her, the quiet rumble of my voice having a noticeable relaxing effect on her tired body.

“Why are you-” a pause, “Oh god-I’m in a hospital-” I immediately flash to her side as her heartbeat picks up and worry begins to flood the room.

“Shh sweetheart, you’re alright.” Smoothing the hair on her forehead and her emotions at the same time.

“No-you,” she chokes out, “you-you’re here and-and-”

“I’m fine. I’m not letting you out of my sight.” I tell her resolutely, my fingers still caressing her beautiful face.

“If it hurts too much, if you aren’t ready to be in a place like this, I’ll understand. Your eyes…” her fingers trace lightly over the tops of my cheeks and I hold perfectly still. My eyes must be pitch black by now, but there are more important matters - like her in this hospital bed.

I give her a wan smile, “Darlin’, I’m exactly where I need to be.”

A blush rises to her cheeks at my words and it eases the restriction in my chest a fraction.

Her smile cracks, “My mom?”

“Downstairs.” Her face blanches completely, “I called her, she’s not mad-“

But her mother opens the door to her room slowly, trying to preserve the quiet.

“Mom?” Y/n asks tenderly, I stand to give them space as she rushes to her daughter’s bedside.

“I’m going to go find my father.” I tell them, giving Y/n one more lingering look before disappearing silently out of the door, save for the click of the latch.

“He’s been here the whole time,” her mom starts explaining, “I haven’t been able to get him to leave your side to even eat anything…” I stop paying attention as I walk down the corridor to give them privacy.

#bless-my-demons #redamancy series #jasper hale x reader #twilight #twilight fanfiction #jasper whitlock hale #jasper hale #jasper hale fanfiction #jasper whitlock #female reader insert #jasper hale x female!reader

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 30 days

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Words: 9,001 (yeah, she's a beast!) Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria S9, post-Negan war, before the bridge Warnings: language (duh, it’s me), violence (no sexual violence), injuries to main character, blood, some kind of dark Saviors shit (not like line-up level dark but kinda fucked), mild angst, Protective!Daryl, hurt/comfort Summary: The war is over, but it isn't all peaches and cream. The Sanctuary struggles to function and Daryl and Y/N struggle with ghosts of their pasts after Rick asks them to take things over there. Deciding they've had enough, they decide to depart for Hilltop but Y/N stays behind for a couple days to help Carol get started taking over. The past comes back to rear its ugly head... A/N: This is an epilogue to the Sacrifice series, but you don't necessarily have to have read all 29 previous parts to appreciate it (though you def should!) [Spoilers (or reminders) for context start here -> -> -> The war is over, Y/N was once one of Negan's wives in order to protect her brother, she went back to Negan to break Daryl out of the Sanctuary, Daryl ends up shooting Negan to protect Y/N when a plan of theirs goes awry and the war ends, Y/N was also shot in the process but survived]

_ _ _ _ _ _

You and Daryl stood off to the side, watching the group of people gather around Rick, flooding the open space on the Sanctuary’s factory floor. You gently touched him on the arm and his blue eyes landed on your face. “Are you going to talk to him tonight?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. I gotta. I can’t—we can’t stay here any longer. I dun want you here either. Bein’ in here, in these walls again, it feels like it’s slowly poisonin’ us…” He glanced at the fresh graffiti someone had sprayed on the wall. We’re still Negan. Saviors Save Us

Your hand slipped down his forearm and you laced your fingers with his. “I know. It’s the right decision.”

“Yeah,” he mused. “Ain’t sure Rick’s gonna agree though…”

“Rick isn’t the one here dealing with all these people, reliving everything every day. It’s too much,” you said. Daryl nodded in agreement.

“Yeah…” Just then, Rick finished talking to the gathered group and there was a smattering of applause and murmuring. You gave Daryl’s hand a gentle squeeze as Rick wandered over. “Good luck,” you murmured.

Soon, various business that needed to be discussed was concluded and the already dim torch and lantern lights on the Sanctuary factory floor were all but put out. Daryl and Rick retreated up to the catwalk.

As they stood side-by-side, looking down at the shadowy, rundown building below them, Daryl sighed heavily and Rick could feel the tension between them. Rick broke the silence first. “So, what’s going on?” he asked.

Daryl gulped and straightened up, looking his friend in the eye. “I don't wanna be the one leadin’ these people anymore.”

Rick’s expression was impassive. “Okay... Why?”

“Bein' here, behind these walls again... It just don't feel right, man. I'm better out there. I always have been. And I’ve got Y/N to think about. After what happened to her in here—with him—”

Rick sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “Things happened to you in here too,” Rick said, perhaps realizing for the first time what he’d really asked of his friend, his brother…

“Yeah, well I care more about her than I care about myself. This is where her life was a livin’ fuckin’ nightmare. His wife…” he murmured under his breath. “She wasn’t his wife. She was his damn property. Her brother died here. He destroyed her group just like he destroyed ours. What d’ya think this place reminds both of us of?” He asked, turning sharp eyes to Rick. “Hmm? Did ya even think ‘bout that when ya asked me to come back here? Didya stop to think that ya might be askin’ us to relive some of the worst shit we’ve ever gone through?”

Rick hung his head for a moment, clasping his hands together. A wash of guilt and shame came over him. He hadn’t considered the full extent of it, no. But there was no one else to do the job and so he’d asked too much of Daryl, too much of you. “But you and Y/N have kept this place together. You’ve kept people in line here. We can't just let the Sanctuary fail after everything that's happened,” he said.

Daryl shook his head and paced a small, agitated circle. “Man, s’gonna fail anyway. Nothin’ grows here. It's a damn factory, man. Look, when Negan was around, he needed people to provide for him. It's still the same. Nothin's changed,” Daryl argued.

“It's different now. We give what we give willingly,” Rick retorted.

“And how long's that gonna last? Most of the bridges are out after the big storm. The highway's done. We've scavenged every drop of gas for miles. And we can't make enough corn fuel to run the cars or the trucks. Pretty soon, it's gonna be more than a day's ride from one spot to another.”

“Well, it's on us to figure out how to make it work,” Rick said, leaning forward on the rail again.

“Man, there ain't no ‘us’ anymore. Everyone's everywhere,” he pointed out. “I feel lucky that Y/N and I are even in the same damn place.” He let out another weighty sigh. “That small group we had back in the beginning... plus a few more of the people we picked up along the way, we could do anythin’. That was right. That’s what I know.” Daryl leaned forward beside Rick, chewing on his bottom lip in that signature way.

“Well, you wanna come home to Alexandria, then?” Rick asked. “You and Y/N?”

Daryl shook his head. “No. We'll go back to Hilltop, check on Maggie and the baby.”

“Well, you go, someone's got to take your place here. Rosita and Eugene are headed to Oceanside next. Maggie's sending food, but not people, and Kingdom's got its own problems rebuilding after losing its fighters. If Alexandria sends another person out, I could use the help back home.”

Daryl only let out a small huff.

“We're not together because things have changed,” Rick said again.

Daryl stiffened. “Mm-hmm,” he hummed. His blue eyes turned to Rick again and they were intense. “The thing is, you changed ‘em, Rick.” The tension felt hot and pulsating in the air like liquid mercury. He patted his friend on the shoulder. “But I get it.” And then Daryl took his leave.

On the staircase, Carol backed away as quietly as she could, only to be startled by your voice softly behind her. “Well, that didn’t go great,” you whispered.

Carol turned to face you, her face drawn. “Daryl is right though. Rick shouldn’t have asked that of the two of you after—after everything you went through here. And he should have known Daryl would have a hard time saying no to him.”

You nodded and straightened up, stepping toward her. “Rick’s his brother,” you agreed. “And there really was no one else. But Daryl’s right. We can’t stay here anymore. It’s—it’s wearing him thin.”

“And you?” Carol asked, worried.

You gave her a tight smile and shrugged. But when you spoke again your voice broke. “I’d almost rather be anywhere else…”

Carol nodded knowingly and then grabbed you into a hug. “I’m sorry,” she said. her mind drifted back to her own abuse at the hands of Ed and she felt a swell of affection for you and for Daryl, for both of you taking this on at all after everything… When she pulled back, she cleared her throat, pushing her emotion away. “I’ll—I’ll take over here a while. You and Daryl need to get out. I want to help.”

“Carol—”

“Don’t argue with me. My mind’s made up,” she said firmly.

You nodded. “Okay. Thank you,” you said. “I’m—I’m gonna go talk to Rick,” you said. “Make him understand.”

Carol nodded. “I’ll check on Daryl. Let him know what I’m thinking.”

“Okay. Good idea… Hey—Carol. This is—what you’re doing to help, it’s huge for us. So, thank you.”

She gave you a warm smile and you passed her on your way up the stairs to find Rick. He was still leaning heavily on the railing, clearly in deep thought over his discussion with Daryl. But he turned at the sound of your steps on the metal catwalk and straightened up when he saw you.

“Hey,” you greeted him stopping beside him and also looking down over the factory floor. No one was milling around anymore. Most people had drifted away to bed. “You okay?” you asked, giving him a knowing, sideways glance.

Rick laughed a little wryly and nodded. “Yeah… Just—tryin’ to figure out if and where I went wrong,” he said, clasping his hands together. “Things I’d do differently now…”

You nodded. “You have a lot of weight on your shoulders. Daryl knows that.”

Rick met your eyes again, clearly realizing you’d overhead their conversation somehow.

You straightened up and tilted your head toward the hallway down the catwalk. “Follow me. I want to show you something.”

Rick followed you as you stopped to grab a lantern and then led him down the hallway. This part of the building was mostly empty these days, except for a few people who had carved out some private spaces for themselves. The warm orange glow flickered past many doors and other halls before you turned right and came partially down the next corridor. The nauseous feeling and the heavy pit in your stomach grew as you walked, and before you knew it, your hand was trembling slightly holding the lantern. This place was full of ghosts.

Rick looked at you with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked. The tremble in your hand translated to a shakiness in the shadows cast by the light on the walls and it was easy to see.

“We’re almost there,” you said softly.

You walked in further silence for only another half a minute before you stopped in front of a gaping dark space in the wall, barely bigger than a closet. Rick gave you a questioning look and you lifted the lantern to illuminate it. The floor was filthy with layers of smeared dirt and who-knows what else. “This is where they held us. Me, when my brother and I were captured, and Negan singled me out from my group. And Daryl after the line-up with Alexandria.”

Rick stared at the dirty, dingy space and he could almost see Daryl huddled there in his mind’s eye, wearing that filthy sweatshirt. His brow furrowed and his face contorted.

You pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Your head felt a bit light and foggy. “I—I had the doors that used to be on the cells removed, because—I just couldn’t stand the sight of them closed up like that. I kept—kept imagining Daryl was still in there every time I had to walk past. Or that somehow, I was going to end up back in there.” You glanced over at Rick who was staring straight into the darkness. He watched as you raised your free hand to rub at your bad shoulder, the one Negan’s bullet had pierced. “They took all his clothes at first. Left him in there naked. Cold. Shot. Hungry. Wondering what happened to the rest of you. And the thirst… Then, Dwight humiliated him and they fed him dog food and blasted music to keep him awake. The same song, over and over. Then, they made him work outside in the heat and humidity in that filthy sweatsuit, chaining walkers to the fence for Negan or doing whatever awful chores they could invent. He had to clean up after Negan punished someone, mopping up shit or piss or worse… Dwight made him look at pictures of—of what happened to Glenn and Abraham.” Tears burned in your eyes and Rick’s shut and he dropped his head.

He lifted a hand to wave you off. “I—I understand,” he said in a low voice, his heart breaking. He’d been careless to ask Daryl to come here, too focused on his beautiful dream in the memory of Carl to realize what this would do to you and to Daryl.

“He didn’t want to say no to you when you asked him to come back here. You’re like a brother to him. He didn’t want to let you down even though—it’s literally the last place either of us wants to be.”

Rick sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his mouth and chin. “I don’t have an excuse… I—I shouldn’t have asked it. Of either of you… I just—I was tryin’ to make this all work.”

You nodded. “I know. So does Daryl. But that doesn’t mean that it hasn’t been… We’ve both been reliving our trauma having to be back here. And we’ve hit our limit. That’s all.”

Rick met your eyes again. You hadn’t even talked about yourself, about what you’d been through here in the cell and with Negan after, not really. You’d mainly focused on Daryl. But Rick could guess well enough what it would have been like for you being one of Negan’s wives and living in that constant fear for your brother and yourself, what you’d had to subject yourself to.

He glanced again at that dark space in the wall. “We’ll figure something out.”

“Carol said she’ll take over here for a while,” you said, turning away from the cell and starting back the way you came.

Rick looked surprised but nodded, walking along beside you.

“I’ll—I’ll stay a couple days to get her going here and up to speed. And then I’ll go meet Daryl in Hilltop.”

“Alright,” Rick nodded. “It’ll have to work for now. But I can’t help thinking it’s a patch on the issue and not a fix.”

You laughed wryly again. “Aren’t most things these days? Rick, Daryl wasn’t wrong about The Sanctuary. It’s a resource sink. It doesn’t produce anything. You’re still going to have to square with that one day. I get what you have been trying to do, making peace with the rest of The Saviors, and not all of them are guilty of the awful things that happened during the war. But things are still festering here under the surface.”

Rick looked over at you, concerned. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged, about ready to part ways with him on the catwalk again. “You saw the graffiti. Negan might be dead but for some of them, it’s not over.” You gave him one last look. “Daryl and I know you have a lot on your plate, but it’s time for us to get the hell outta here. If we don’t… this place will consume us. We can’t move away from what happened while we’re here. It’s like—it’s like having it shoved down our throats every day.”

You took your leave from Rick then, leaving him again in deep thought. You knew where you could find Daryl, at a spot outside he liked to go where most people wouldn’t be able to disturb him. It happened to be someplace the two of you sometimes went to watch the stars. When you got there, stepping just one foot outside the building, you had to smile to yourself. Daryl and Carol were just sitting together, side-by-side, enjoying a moment after being apart for so long. You decided to leave them to it.

You made your way back to the room you and Daryl had claimed together in a different part of The Sanctuary. You hastily changed your clothes and got ready for bed, knowing he’d come find you there when he was ready. And it wasn’t long before he did, coming in to see you already cozied up in the bed you shared, reading a worn paperback.

You smiled as he came in. “Hi,” you said.

He stopped in the doorway and took you in, giving you a small smile back. “Hey. Sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” Daryl drawled, sinking down beside you on the mattress. “I was out sittin’ with Carol.”

“It’s alright. I know you were. I didn’t want to interrupt,” you said, reaching for a strand of his wavy hair and running your fingers down it gently. “You haven’t seen each other for a while.”

“Yeah,” he said, pulling off his boots. “Get this. Ezekiel asked her to marry him,” he said, giving you a conspiratorial look.

You pushed yourself up on the palm of your hand. “Oh my God!” you burst out.

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Well? What did she say?!”

“Ah… She ain’t ready yet,” Daryl explained.

“Wow.” You thought of Carol and Ezekiel together after the close call at the museum. They were good for each other. “Maybe someday?” you asked.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm.” His hand came to rest on the graceful curve of your neck. It was cool from the nighttime air. He leaned in and kissed you softly, pulling back just slightly to study the colors in your irises. “Listen—I told Rick—”

“Yeah, I know,” you interrupted him gently. “I could hear the two of you. And Carol talked to me too. She’s gonna take over here for a while.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. So, we can go. We dun have to be here anymore. Figured we can head to Hilltop tomorrow. Check on Maggie and Hershel.”

You nodded and then ducked your eyes. “I’m—I’m gonna stay here with Carol for just a couple more days. Help her get started and settled. Then I can meet you. I’ll take one of the horses.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. You could see that he was getting ready to argue.

“It’s just a few more days,” you whispered, gently grabbing onto the front of his vest. “It’s the least I can do since she’s doing this for us, leaving her family and world in The Kingdom.”

Daryl’s stomach churned a little, leaving him feeling slightly nauseous. “She’ll have Eugene,” he pointed out.

“Barely. He and Rosita are heading to Oceanside next to get the fishery going.”

Daryl sighed heavily and moved back to sit on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slightly slumped. He was chewing on his bottom lip. You knelt behind him and draped yourself against his back, looping your arms around his neck and burying your face in the curtain of his wavy hair, breathing him in and leaving a kiss on his neck. “It’s just a couple days,” you said again.

He gulped. He didn’t know why, but there was a pit in his stomach. “I dunno…” he mused aloud. “I dun like ya bein’ here without me. Here of all damn places.” His mind went back to that graffiti sprayed on the wall.

“I know. I don’t either. But I want to help Carol as a thank you. And then I’ll come straight to Hilltop.” You moved around to sit beside him on the edge of the bed. “Hey—Look at me,” you urged him. “I can handle myself. Or did you forget?” you teased him, bumping into his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“I know ya can handle yerself. It ain’t that… Somethin’ just—I dunno. Somethin’ dun feel righ’.”

You sighed and nodded knowingly. “It’s never felt right being here.”

“Yeah… maybe tha’s just it. I dunno,” he said finally, but you noted that he still looked slightly troubled. It had been a long day, and his talk with Rick was intense. He stood up and started getting ready to climb in bed with you. You watched the muscles in his back ripple, crisscrossed by his scars, as he pulled off his shirt. You crawled back beneath the sheets and waited until he slipped in beside you.

“C’mere,” he murmured softly to you as he settled into his pillow. You moved into him immediately and he pulled you against him. You tangled your legs with his and gazed into his bright blue eyes. He draped an arm over you and his hand moved to find the hem of your t-shirt before slipping underneath it and pressing against your bare skin, tracing absent patterns on your side, your hip, your back. Daryl leaned in and kissed you, one that was deep and full of wanting.

You felt a pooling of heat expanding in your chest as his lips moved to your neck. Daryl listened to your breathing hitch as he kissed your pulse point and grazed the shell of your ear. His hands wandered over the shape of you beneath the draping of your shirt. In no time, the two of you were completely lost in each other, melting into sensations and quiet gasps of pleasure, bounding hearts and heaving chests, skin on skin. Daryl’s fingers laced between yours, his other hand firm on your hip. Then, after you both reached your blissful highs, you fell asleep in his arms and neither of you woke until the sun was coming up.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You walked with Daryl to his bike and stood beside him as he strapped down his gear, giving him a smile when he looked up at you again.

“Are ya sure ‘bout this? Ya dun have to stay. Carol will be fine,” he said in a low voice. That pit in his stomach had returned almost immediately when he awoke and thought about separating from you.

You gently rested your hands on his sides, stepping in close. “Everything is going to be fine. Go help Maggie. Check on her and Hershel. I’ll see you soon. Okay?”

He looked worried, but nodded. “S’yer call. Two days,” he drawled.

You nodded. “Two days. I promise.”

“Alrigh’…” He leaned in and kissed you deeply, clasping your face and pressing his other hand into the small of your back to pull your body flush against his. You kissed him back heatedly and hungrily and sighed when you broke apart.

“Miss ya already,” he said, breaking contact with you and getting ready to climb onto his bike.

“Same,” you agreed, giving him a tight smile. “Love you,” you added, waiting until the last moment of separating to unlace your fingers from his.

He nodded and studied you, drinking in the view. “You too.”

Then, in a spray of gravel and a cloud of dust he was on his way. You didn’t see him glance back at you over his shoulder before he completely lost sight of The Sanctuary.

You found Carol already on the factory floor standing with Eugene, looking over whatever list of action items were on his clipboard that day. You were absently rubbing your bad shoulder as you came up. It had been aching since the day before. Had revisiting the cell stirred things up? Probably. Carol noticed immediately.

“You okay? Shoulder bothering you?” she asked.

You nodded. “Just a little. The old war wound acting up a bit,” you said with a wry laugh.

Eugene looked up from his clipboard. “I could potentially formulate a topical balm that may relieve some of your chronic pain symptoms, though most ingredients would not sufficiently penetrate the muscle in order to reach the origin of—”

You cut him off with a smile and a laugh. “It’s okay, Eugene. I’m fine. It’s not too bad. What do we need to tackle today?”

The three of you chatted briefly about what needed to be done urgently and then each picked your tasks to start with. Several hours later, you were nearly done trying to treat the small number of plants that were still surviving in the raised garden beds for some kind of insect pest when you were interrupted.

You turned at the sound of footsteps to see one of the Sanctuary residents approaching. You stood and dusted the soil from your gloves. “Hi. What’s up?”

“The guys getting that scrap metal from the upper floors found a water leak. Can you come take a look at it? We might be able to fix it, but we’d probably have to shut the water off completely for a while.”

You sighed heavily and pulled off your gloves. “Always something new, isn’t it?” you said dryly. “Yeah, I’ll come take a look now. Lead the way.”

You passed through the factory floor, noting that the graffiti discovered the day before had been freshly painted over as Daryl had demanded. Carol and Eugene were bent over a table in deep discussion over some new plan. Your stomach flipped as it always did as you passed the oven where Negan used to heat his iron or branding rods. You turned your eyes away.

Soon you were on the upper floors, walking through the dim hallways. It always felt eerily quiet up there. The resident you were following pointed ahead to the next doorway and then stopped to grab some work gloves from a pile of gear set in the hallway. You passed him and stopped in the doorway, expecting to see the group of other people working, but the room was empty. And there was no sign of a water leak. The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end. “Hey, are you sure this is—”

And then everything went black.

Carol was walking somewhat aimlessly back and forth across the factory floor, weaving through the supplies and little bunched groups of people. She craned her neck trying to see if she could spot you anywhere. The two of you had planned to meet for the evening meal after everyone was done for the day but Carol was suddenly realizing she hadn’t seen you since that morning.

Her stomach began to churn. She bolted toward outside where evening was beginning to fall. The garden beds cast long, deep shadows between them, but she didn’t find you crouched among them. The final place she checked was the room you shared with Daryl, now mainly bare of your items since the two of you had begun packing your belongings to leave. Daryl had already taken his few things away on his bike.

There was no sign of you.

Her heart started to pound. She’d questioned everyone she could think of as to your whereabouts. Where could you possibly be? An anxious thought flitted into her mind. Her stomach tightened into a fist. It wasn’t like you not to arrive somewhere you said you would…

The last thing to do was to search the rarely used upper floors. She knew a crew had been working up there earlier in the day, collecting and hauling scrap metal to be reused to patch the roof and fences. Perhaps something had come up and you were still up there assisting with a problem.

Her boots made a lonely, echoing sound as she rushed around corner after corner. There was a weighty silence and the farther up she wandered, the sicker she felt. Something was seriously wrong. She could feel it in her bones. She called your name out but it strangely didn’t seem to pierce the thick vapor of silence in front of her. Every step increased her heart rate and poured adrenaline into her bloodstream. She felt almost shaky as she loosened her knife in its sheath. Just in case, she thought. In case of what?

Another minute or two passed as she searched. Each moment felt excruciatingly long. And then all of a sudden, her breath caught in her throat. “Oh my God. Y/N!” Carol bolted toward the crumpled form halfway down the hall in front of her. “Oh, God…” The front of your shirt was soaked with blood and you were lying on the cold floor unconscious. Your face was bruised and swollen. There were cuts and smears of blood on your skin. But what held her attention horrifically was that whoever had done this to you had taken a knife and began to carve a word into your chest, just below your collar bone. SA and part of a V. Carol didn’t need to guess what they’d intended to spell. They were making a gruesome point. Her hands shook as they hovered over you for a moment. She said your name again and then gently clasped your face and gripped your arm. She jostled you a little. “Wake up. It’s Carol! Please, wake up!”

You began to stir a little and a grimace contorted your features.

“Oh, thank God,” Carol sighed, hanging her head in relief for a very brief moment before the nausea seemed to rise into her throat again at your condition. “Y/N? Open your eyes, hun!”

You let out a small pained noise and then your eyes did open blearily. You were immediately trying to sit up, pushing yourself up on the palms of your hands but your head felt split in two and your muscles felt rubbery and weak. “Fuck,” you murmured.

“Whoa—okay. Easy! Take it easy!”

You reached up and touched the back of your head. It was swollen with a lump and tender and your fingers came away slightly sticky. You looked down at them and registered the deep color of drying blood. Your chest burned. You looked down to see that the whole front of your shirt was stained crimson. Your body ached and panged with sharp pains. You could feel your heartbeat in your face.

“Is anything broken? Can you stand up?” Carol asked, her brow heavy over her eyes, but the light inside frantic and quickly turning furious.

“I don’t think anything is broken,” you said softly. Your jaw ached. You gave it an exploratory wiggle left and right and immediately regretted it. Your bottom lip was split and swollen. You winced again. “What the fuck?” you murmured. “I mean what the ever-loving, royal fuck?” you growled. The hot rage welling up in you was pushing some of the pain back.

“Let’s just get you up and off the floor, okay? Slowly.” Carol helped you to your feet. Your head swam and you squeezed your eyes shut, not letting go of her hands for a long moment until you felt steadier. Her expression said enough about what you must look like… “What happened? Do you know who did this to you?” she asked.

You shook your head a little, absently pressing a hand to the burning sensation on your chest, but you stopped as the burn surged when your palm landed flush on your skin. You took in a sharp intake of breath through your teeth. “No. Well—I saw one of them… they lured me up here. Told me there was a water leak they found while doing the scrapping and—and then someone hit me on the head from behind and I was knocked out. But I don’t know why. I mean, why me?”

Carol’s expression was taught. Anger swirled in her eyes. She knew exactly why. You couldn’t see it yet, but the word was partially carved into your chest. That graffiti on the wall out on the factory floor was just the tip of the iceberg. Things were rotting here just under the surface, and since you’d once been Negan’s wife, she imagined you were a perfect target for those who wanted to make a point. “Let me see the back of your head,” she said. There was a small split in the skin where you’d been struck, your hair stained rusty red, but she didn’t think you’d need stitches there and she was extremely relieved that it wasn’t worse... not much anyone could do from something like a skull fracture in the apocalypse. She sighed heavily as another flame of rage wicked upwards in her chest. “Okay… Let’s get you back to your room. Hold onto my arm. Can you make it?”

You nodded, gripping her to steady yourself on your shaky legs, and allowed her to lead you away. You glanced back over your shoulder and were sickened to see the smears of your blood shockingly deep red on the tile behind you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Carol had you sitting on the edge of your bed and she set down a first aid kit beside you. You were looking up at her from behind a wall of swelling and bruising on your face. You tenderly wiggled your jaw again, testing opening and closing your mouth. It felt ready to lock up. She could tell from the way you’d moved on the walk back and how you were slumped slightly forward now that there was probably substantial bruising beneath your clothes that she couldn’t see. Your movements were tentative and cautious.

You hadn’t looked in the mirror yet. You were afraid to. The pain was bad enough. The fogginess in your head was bad enough. You were worried if you saw the results of the beating, it would only make it worse, more real.

Carol began unpacking supplies. “Tell me everything you remember,” she said gently.

You shook your head. “Not much. Like I said, I was out working in the raised garden beds and somebody came up to me.”

“Who?” Carol pressed you. “If you don’t know their name, what did they look like?”

“Uhh… his name starts with a ‘G’ I think… Give me a second.” You filed through names in your head until you got the right one. “Graham. I think that’s it… He’s tall. Long black hair past his shoulders.”

“Okay,” Carol nodded, opening an alcohol swab. “What did he say exactly?”

“He asked if I could come look at a leak they found while they were moving all the scrap metal. He said they thought they could fix it but they’d have to turn the water off. I went to see and I was barely in the doorway of the room he pointed out. There wasn’t a water leak. I was just standing there, about to say something and—something hit the back of my head. I don’t really remember anything after that. Some foggy pain maybe but… mostly nothing.”

“Do you think there were others waiting up there? Or could it have just been him?” Carol asked, dabbing at a wound on the side of your face. You shut your eyes from the fumes of the alcohol. She was starting to worry about just how many traitors could be in the walls.

“There was at least one other person. When I got hit, I was looking back at him ten feet away from me down the hall.”

Carol sighed heavily and nodded. “Okay.” Her eyes drifted down to the cruelly carved letters on your chest. Your chin tilted down as you tried to look but her hand on your shoulder stopped you. “Hold on,” she said. Her face contorted with emotion she was trying to hold back. “Better you see this now. I’m so sorry.”

You gave her a perplexed look. You knew you were beat up but what was she—

Carol grabbed the small mirror off the little sink in the corner and held it up so you could see yourself for the first time. Initially, all you saw was the swelling and bruising on your face but then your breath caught in your throat. S-A- and part of a V, cut into your skin. The cuts were deep and she had already had to apply some butterfly bandages to hold certain spots closed. No wonder your skin had burned and stung there since you came back to consciousness.

You felt like you were about to be sick and Carol must have seen you pale because she hastily put down the mirror and gripped your shoulders again as if she was afraid you were going to faint. “Whoa. Deep breaths.”

Your eyes shut and you did your best to swallow down the nausea. “What the fuck,” you muttered, reeling. You blinked away angry tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. “It’ll be okay. We’ll get you cleaned up and then I think I have some of my special ointment in my bag. If you apply it at least once a day it’ll minimize any scarring…”

You let out a wry laugh. “Minimize,” you repeated. “But I’ll still have half of ‘Saviors’ carved into me for the rest of my life.” Tears burned in your eyes again. It wasn’t bad enough what you had gone through with Negan, with his men, with the war—now this? Would it ever be over?

Carol winced. “I’m so sorry… I had no idea things were this bad here.”

You sniffled and mopped gently at the tears that had broken out onto your cheeks. “I knew they were pretty bad but—can’t say I saw anything like this coming.”

“Well, who could? It’s—horrific.” She gave you a sympathetic look and then surprised you by pulling you gently into a hug for a long moment. Her eyes were teary now too when she pulled back, but she pulled herself together quickly. Back to business, she returned to the first aid kit and continued her ministrations. Your mind was endlessly turning.

“I wonder why they didn’t finish,” you suddenly said softly.

“Mmm,” Carol hummed, nodding, tossing down another soiled gauze pad and reaching for a new one. “They must have gotten interrupted. Maybe heard someone in that part of the building.”

Your eyes lifted and met hers. She paused at the expression on your face. “Do you think they were going to kill me? Leave me there with—with this cut into me to make a statement?”

Carol’s mouth dropped open and she shook her head. “I don’t—I don’t know,” she said, trying to keep her tone flat. Your question had been asked matter-of-factly and Carol was suddenly reminded of all you had gone through in the war and even before any of them had met you, when you’d just been a stranger with a mysterious backstory. “But obviously they knew they couldn’t take you in a fair fight. Fucking cowards,” she growled. “Had to ambush you to even have a chance.”

You sighed, shaking your head again, your eyes dropping to your hands. “They sure beat the shit out of me though,” you mused aloud. “It’s probably good Daryl isn’t here. He’d lose it,” you said, fiddling with another gauze pad which Carol took out of your hands and taped down over the now cleaned cuts below your collarbone.

She cleared her throat. “About that…”

You met her blue eyes again. “You radioed him? He’s probably way out of range by now. He’s probably already in Hilltop,” you said.

“Rosita rode out on the quad immediately to get within range. Eugene is doing a headcount as we speak to see who, if anyone, is missing…”

Another wry laugh left you and you nodded. “That’s why you took so long. And I just thought you couldn’t find the damn kit,” you said, shooting her a look, tears burning in your eyes. “Daryl is gonna go on a rampage,” you said softly.

Carol nodded. “Probably. But he should be here with you. And if I didn’t radio him, I’d be on the receiving end of that rampage. And I think we should focus it on the assholes that did this to you instead.”

You nodded and a sob tried to burst out of you. You suppressed it as best you could and it came out as a hitched breath. “Yeah,” you said, your voice a little strained.

Carol quickly grabbed you into a hug again. “Everything is going to be okay. Daryl will be here soon and we will figure this out.”

You hugged her back and nodded into her shoulder, grateful again for your found family.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Daryl was there in an hour, stomping through The Sanctuary with Eugene at his heels, mostly ignoring the stream of words out of the mullet-headed Texan’s mouth. Rosita finally grabbed Eugene’s arm and stopped him, clearly realizing Daryl wasn’t hearing a word of it, didn’t give a shit about anything but going to see you. He was at the door of the little room the two of you had shared before anyone could come to tell you he’d arrived.

Daryl froze and made himself knock lightly, rather than barely in. The last thing he wanted was to startle you. His stomach turned as he waited to hear your voice on the other side, inviting him in. “S’me,” he drawled, the jittery feeling that permeated his body translating to an ever-so-slight tremble in his voice.

You sat up in bed. “Come in,” you said hurriedly, already feeling the tears burning in your eyes again. You were in clean clothes now and thoroughly patched up thanks to Carol, but that wasn’t going to change how rough you looked and how hard it was going to be for Daryl to see it.

The door opened slowly, measuredly, and he took shape in the doorway. He froze for only a split second as his eyes roamed over your face, taking in the swelling and already deep purple bruises. Then he rushed to you and hugged you in against him gently. That was all it took for you to go to pieces against him, clinging to his leather jacket. “Jesus, what the hell did they do to ya? ‘M sorry. ‘M so sorry I wasn’t here. I shouldn’ta left ya. ‘M so sorry, babe. I shoulda been here,” he said into your hair, kissing you on the top of the head, holding you gently so he wouldn’t hurt you but firmly so you knew you were safe.

You sniffled and mopped the tears from your cheeks as he clasped your face and brushed your hair back. “Don’t—don’t apologize. It’s not your fault,” you said, looking up into his blue eyes. They were stormy and turbulent. “You couldn’t know…”

“Lemme see ya,” he said, looking you over. His heart ached as you showed him the bruising on your stomach and ribs. “Sit back. Rest,” he said, climbing into bed beside you where you were propped up against the headboard and wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

You tucked in against him. He left a kiss in your hair again.

“Did—did Rosita tell you what they—that—”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “She didn’t tell me anything specific except that some assholes had hurt ya bad, beat ya up, and that I needed to get back here,” he said. “Tell me what?” His stomach churned around a hard knot. His mind began inventing all kinds of horrific scenarios immediately. What did you mean?

You could see him whirling and quickly tried to explain. “I was unconscious but—” Your hand landed on the gauze pad taped over the wounds below your collarbone. His eyes flitted down to it. “They used a knife and—” You couldn’t get any more words out so you simply lifted the bandage to show him, gingerly peeling back the medical tape and bandaging. Daryl froze completely. Every part of him stilled. He stared at the brutality someone had inflicted on you and hot rage boiled inside him. More tears leaked out onto your cheeks as you saw what it was doing to him to see that on you. You hastily covered it back up.

He softened again, coming back to himself, letting his anger flow away, and wiped the tears from your face with his thumbs. “Hey—it don’t matter to me what they—how they marked ya like that. Ya know that, right? Ya got every right to feel however ya feel ‘bout it. Ya do. But to me—” He shook his head. “It don’t matter, okay? I just see you. It’s all gonna be alrigh’.”

You collapsed into him again, finally letting yourself completely break down, wondering how the fuck you’d gotten so lucky as to find this man. He held you against his chest, his strong arms securely around you. He could feel the bump on the back of your head where they’d hit you. He could feel the swelling on your face and under your clothes, and he internally yelled at himself for leaving you behind, even if it was only supposed to be for a couple days, even though no one would have guessed that anything like this would happen, even though he knew how strong and capable you were. “‘M so sorry,” he murmured again. “I shouldn’t have left ya here… here of all places, with them.” His hands clenched into fists. “I’m gonna track down every one of these assholes and put ‘em in the fuckin’ ground,” he growled.

You couldn’t stand him blaming himself and you pulled yourself together. “It’s not your fault, Daryl. And—maybe… maybe I should have known something like this could happen…”

His brow furrowed. “What do ya mean?” He took a beat, his heart seemingly suspended somewhere in a gaping space that had opened in his chest. “Did somethin’ happen before this?”

You bit your bottom lip, your eyes still glassy. “No. No, not exactly. Nothing happened. I mean, people have—said things to me before. Made comments. I just—”

Daryl frowned, his brow heavy over his eyes, casting them in a deep shadow. “Like what? What kinda comments?”

You sighed and turned to face him more fully. You rested your hands on his sides. “Just—little shitty things. Because of what I’d been here,” you explained. “As Negan’s wife…”

Daryl was boiling again inside with anger. “Ya weren’t ever his wife,” he said. “That word means somethin’ else.” Your fingers went to touch the wedding band on your ring finger, the one Daryl had made with his own hands and given to you.

“Yeah. I know. It doesn’t matter,” you said quickly. “I just wrote them off and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want it to be a big deal and I knew how upset you’d get. It just felt like shitty people being shitty at the time. Mostly…”

“Mostly,” he growled.

“I never thought anything like this would happen. I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.”

Daryl sighed and ducked his head, running his hands gently up and down the soft bare skin on your arms, marred with bruises and abrasions. “Don’t apologize. Ya didn’t do anythin’ wrong. I get why ya didn’t tell me… and yer righ’. I woulda beat the shit out of anybody sayin’ or doin’ anythin’ like that to ya. But tha’s my job. I wanna protect you.”

“I know,” you said. “We’ve just had so much on our plate here. I didn’t want to add something else. And I never thought—I didn’t think—” You grimaced as a wave of pain and dizziness hit you.

“I know. I know. Hey—it’s okay. We’ve talked ‘bout this enough. Ya need to rest. ‘M here now. S’okay.”

“I am really tired,” you agreed, shutting your eyes and waiting for the lightheaded feeling to pass.

He clasped your face again, his eyes flickering from this injury to that, and then he kissed your swollen lips as gently as he could. You managed to give him an overwhelmed, somewhat sad smile which he returned. “C’mon. Let’s lay down.”

Daryl helped you settle down on the mattress and fitted himself beside you. You tucked yourself against his body, breathed in his smell and safety, and shut your eyes. His fingers brushed through your hair, reassuring and grounding.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The next morning Daryl was awake early while you slept on. He carefully, ever so slowly slipped out of bed and pulled a change of clothes on. He snuck out and headed to find Carol, Eugene, and Rosita.

He spotted Eugene first and nudged his head up in a nod as a greeting. “Well, what d’ya got to tell me?” Daryl asked hurriedly.

“We were short five of the former Saviors at the headcount last night, and five again this mornin’. Carol and Rosita have been questionin’ people all night. We don’t think anyone here knew anything about it. They weren’t exactly gentle with their lines of inquiry.”

Daryl rubbed a hand over his mouth and nodded thoughtfully. “Alrigh’. As I thought then... Cowards took off right afterwards.”

“Indeed. I suspect they knew Justice’s hammer would fall hard and swift on them once their atrocious deed was discovered,” Eugene agreed. “No way to know now where they’re headed.”

Daryl sighed. “Hopefully righ’ into a fuckin’ herd of walkers,” he drawled. “Alrigh’. Well, we need to send out runners to get word out to The Kingdom and Alexandria so ev’rybody can watch out for those pieces of shit... Y/N and I will take news to Hilltop today, and keep our eyes open for any sign of ‘em on the way. If I get sight of ‘em, I’mma strangle ‘em with my bare fuckin’ hands…” He sighed again, even more heavily this time. “Thanks. For everythin’ ya’ll did last night.”

“Of course,” Eugene said sincerely. “How is her condition today?”

Daryl sighed and shook his head. “She’s still asleep. She was exhausted. ‘M gonna get back up there. I dun want her wakin’ up here alone and ‘m still afraid there could be somebody in here—” he hesitated to speak his fear lest it become real. “She’ll be alrigh’. She’s tough. But she was shaken up pretty good and I can’t believe how bad they beat her up... and what they did,” he said vaguely, referring to the letterds on your skin. “But she’ll be okay.” He patted Eugene on the shoulder gratefully and headed straight back to you.

_ _ _ _ _ _

With hasty goodbyes and thank you’s to your close, chosen family, still at The Sanctuary you departed for Hilltop on the back of Daryl’s bike. You held extra tightly to him the whole way, and often his right hand left the handlebars to smooth over yours for a moment. The Sanctuary shrank smaller and smaller behind you and then disappeared into a cloud of dust. Neither of you knew it at the time, but you’d never come to that place again while it was a semi-functional community. It would be only ruins when you sheltered there during the storm eight years after the war.

On arriving at Hilltop, Maggie threw her arms around you and tears of shock filled her eyes when she saw your bruised and swollen face. Enid insisted on checking you over again, but gave you the all clear after much expressed anger and concern. Maggie quickly carved out a space for you and Daryl to stay, close to the room she shared with baby Hershel in the big house up on the hill.

Your body had stiffened overnight and on the bike ride. Every movement caused aches and pains to shoot through you and Daryl was attentive and worried as you settled into your new home. When you settled into bed at first, Daryl kissed every part of you where he could see a bruise or injury. His fingers were light and gentle on your skin, and you were amazed as you always were that he could be so soft when he was so strong. Finally, the sun sank below the horizon and you were again laying side by side, your head tucked up under his chin, listening to the whoosh of air in his lungs and his steady heartbeat.

“I had an idea,” you said softly, breaking a long but comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“Maybe when I’m all healed up, if—if it scars bad, I can get someone to do a tattoo over it to cover it up.”

Daryl smiled. You were already thinking ahead to the future, thinking of solutions. That was a good sign. He hugged you more tightly against him. “What would ya get?”

“I don’t know. Something pretty… to cover up something so ugly,” you mused aloud. “Like, there are these flowers that only bloom once in their lifetime and it can take decades to happen.”

“Nah, tha’s no good,” Daryl said quickly.

“What? Why?” you asked, looking up at him with surprise from beneath your lashes.

“It don’t fit ya. Yer bloomin’ all the time. Every day. Ya always have been, even when ya couldn’t see it,” he drawled. He pressed a kiss softly to your forehead.

You smiled at him sleepily.

“Was that too cheesy?” he asked with a gruff laugh.

“No. It was just the right amount,” you said. “Okay… maybe I’ll just get ‘Property of Daryl Dixon’,” you joked.

“No good. Ya ain’t nobody’s property. Ya belong only to yerself. ‘M just lucky that you share with me,” he said, his fingertips tracing vague shapes on the bare skin of your hip, exposed from the way your shirt had draped.

You sighed and nuzzled in against his neck. “I was only kidding,” you said, closing your eyes.

“I know. But it’s true.”

You yawned. “Maybe. But I do also belong to you, by my choice. I have since that night you fell through that rotten floor,” you said with a laugh. Daryl’s chest moved as he joined you with a low chuckle. In another minute, you were asleep. Daryl whispered ‘I love you’ into your hair, and shut his eyes too.

He meant what he’d said—he’d find whoever had hurt you and end them if he could, but after that, he wouldn’t allow the shadow of the past to dim another day. He’d walk with you forward, facing the sun in the same way you’d been doing together since the end of the war. And he hoped this time all of it, all the Saviors, The Sanctuary, the fear and pain, was really behind both of you.

#sacrifice #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl fanfic

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babyspacekwid · 6 months

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Astrology Observations and Advice ✨ (TW talks of ED)

From a non professional astrologer who has no idea wtf she’s posting half the time 💕

Chiron 4th house in Capricorn, Your dad may be very hard on you, like a perfectionist dad. Could have also been abusive. Could be the type to comment on your shortcomings. Remember that you are enough as it is, don’t be so hard on yourself, treat yourself as you would a friend. With compassion and kindness. Its okay to make mistakes in life. It’s common to have daddy issues with this placement, so try not to let that affect your love life, this is a personal placement of mine😜 rlly into toxic men, but they ain’t good for me, so let us be aware of that. Don’t take life too seriously, do the serious shit without being too serious about it. Idk if that makes sense but for example, let’s say u got a math test, do the math test seriously, like study and shit but don’t let the stress of it consume you because it rlly ain’t that serious.

Aries moon, especially men y’all’s temper is unregulated af. Ive seen y’all snap at stuff that energy shouldn’t be wasted on, y’all are one of the most emotionally reactive signs I have ever met. Like a ticking time bomb. This moon sign might have experienced a mother figure that was harsh and emotionally neglectful. Very hard on you, wasn’t that nurturing when raising you. The type of mom to tell you to get up and wipe the dust off when you fall and scrape your knee as a kid. y’all gotta delve into those emotions in a healthier manner. Therapy and journaling could be very beneficial. Go to one of those rage rooms where ppl break shit, I feel like y’all would go all out. There’s definitely some pent up anger. This goes for Scorpio moons too, y’all is more internal though, got some deep dark thoughts and intense internal feelings that could easily overwhelm which is why downtime is needed.

Speaking of some Scorpio moons I have met, don’t let your trust issues fuck things up. This a hard placement, y’all feel things so deeply, but just cause one person backstabbed you don’t mean everyone will. Open up to people, trial and error and you’ll find that person. Obviously set boundaries and don’t just trauma dump on everyone you meet, but don’t build an invisible wall as soon as you meet someone. Not everyone is out to get you.

(TW) Taurus risings I’ve met have dealt with some type of eating disorder. Could have had family members or people comment on their weight as a child or just got rlly influenced by the negative parts of social media. Every taurus rising I’ve met has dealt with body issues, y’all are actually so beautiful though, and I’m sorry you don’t hear it often,no matter the size. You guys are also so photogenic, like maybe I’m just the type of person that sees human beings as cute in general but istg y’all could be making the ugliest of faces and I’d still think it’s charming 😭 my best advice would be to stop comparing yourselves, and to learn unconditional love towards your body at every stage it’s at. We’re gonna be 60 and wrinkly anyways, might as well enjoy what it can do for you now!

I have this friend who’s a Capricorn sun and moon, and as a Gemini sun and moon myself I feel so similar to her in like every aspect. Idk if it’s because we’re both born on a new moon, but anyways, this girl needs to learn to open up😭 like hun I wanna be your shoulder to cry on, don’t get me wrong she will vent, and spill the tea, but when the waterworks come out she’d rather isolate. I’m just like naurrrrrr, come back. I might not be comfortable with tears and shit but il awkwardly pat your back and listen to you. Either way y’all don’t be afraid to be vulnerable, you aren’t a burden and you can’t deal with it yourself. Stop trynna convince yourself that you can. Humans are social creatures and our primal instinct is to receive and give love. M

ANYWHOOOO y’all I rlly ain’t that knowledgeable about this shit, I’m rlly going off my friend’s placements (and mine). I am studying astrology tho so maybe one day 🤠 but I got the memory of a goldfish so it might take a while, I appreciate everyone who’s been liking my posts though THANK YOU💕💕💕💕

#astrology #astro observations #taurus #capricorn #scorpio #aries #chiron

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mountttmase · 1 year

Note

Hiii, can you please write something based on “Until I found you” Stephen Sanchez song?? Thank you ❤️

Until I Found You

Note - okay but I love this song 😌 thank you so much for sending this to me I hope you like this 🩵 if you haven’t listened to it then please do here. feedback would be very much appreciated like always 💕

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 4.1k

Warnings - angst and fluff

Mason hadn’t been right for a few weeks now, a far cry from the boy you met a few months back and it’s like you could physically feel him pulling away from you yet you’d barely been together long enough to feel like what it could be like to be in his life properly.

You’d met Mason in a coffee shop after you’d brought the last millionaires shortbread that he also had his eye on and after failing to convince you to sell it to him, he’d somehow managed to trick you into giving him your number. You met him the week after for dinner after texting for the whole week and he’d swept you off your feet from the moment he flashed you his pearly whites.

You knew things hadn’t been great for him at Chelsea, and string of small injuries weren’t helping but you were hoping you could help take his mind off of things and you saw each other as often as you could. He was becoming a shell of himself though, that gorgeous smile of his never seeming to quite reach his eyes anymore and his loud and talkative persona had seemingly vanished. He didn’t seem to want to talk that much, evenings now spent quietly in each others arms where you tried to reassure him with gentle touches and kisses.

He was driving back after a candle lit dinner where he’d been nothing but charming and made you forget about everything you’d been worrying about for weeks, but the drive home was tense and silent and you couldn’t work out why but when he pulled up outside your building rather than his house like you had already agreed you looked at him him confusion.

‘Mase? Why are we here? I thought we staying at yours?’ You asked, turning to look at him but you felt you tummy drop immediately. He wasn’t looking at you but you could see the tears running down his face and he started down at his fingers that sat in his lap.

‘I’m really sorry, y/n’ he whispered, your heart sinking as you knew what was coming next but you were unsure as to why. ‘I don’t think I can do this anymore’

You couldn’t speak, the breath knocked out of you as you took in his words. He was ending things before they’d even really started and you couldn’t figure out why.

‘Did I do something?’ You whispered, wanting some sort of explanation even if it hurt more than anything else ever had and you felt him reach for your hands, gripping them tightly as he turned to face you but you didn’t have the strength to look at him.

‘You haven’t done a single thing, I promise you. It’s all on me’ he told you, his voice sounding pained as he tried to explain his thoughts. ‘I’m not myself at the minute and I can’t be what you deserve right now. You’re so so lovely and kind and beautiful and you should be with someone who can give you the world. I’m not that guy right now’

‘Don’t, Mason’ you sobbed, trying to pull away from him but he wouldn’t let you, grabbing your face gently so you would look at him and the sincerity in his eyes.

‘It’s true, y/n please please listen to me. If I was ready to fall in love with someone then you would be it. I swear on everything I have you are the perfect girl for me, but I can’t be what you deserve right now’

‘Why? I don’t understand’ you whispered

‘I Just think I need time on my own to sort myself out and be a better person. Not just for me but for everyone around me. Including you’ he explained and even though you understood it still hurt like hell. ‘I don’t want you to wait for me though, I don’t know how long this is gonna take and you deserve to be happy, even if it’s not with me’

‘But I… but I thought..’ you tried speaking but the words weren’t coming out, your heart breaking as you slowly came to terms with why he was saying before the sobs wracked through you. You hid your face in your hands and you let everything out in his passenger seat, his arms holding you close to his as you felt his body shake as you both cried out all out pain.

You could hear him sobbing out the words I’m sorry and even though you were hurt beyond belief you knew he needed your comfort. There was no way he’d be able to get home in this state so you took his face in your hands, pressing small kisses to his cheeks and whispering to him that it was okay until he had calmed down.

‘Are you gonna be okay getting back?’ You asked him gently ‘you can come in for a bit if you want? Just to sort yourself out I don’t want you to have an accident on the way home’

‘I’m fine I promise’ he told you, rubbing his eyes to get the to stop watering before he looked up at you again. He looked so incredibly sad and it made you want to cry all over again. ‘I just want you to know, I’m doing this for you, yeah? Cause I care about you and your happiness and I hate feeling like I’m bringing you down’

‘You’re not-‘

‘Please don’t, y/n please. You deserve the world and I haven’t been able to give you that in a while’ he told you, holding your hand again gently as if he was scared that you were going to pull away. ‘I want you to know that you can still trust me yeah? I mean everything I’m saying. This isn’t me trying to fob you off so I can go date half of England. I don’t wanna be with anyone if it’s not gonna be you but I cant be what you need’

‘I understand’ you told him, and you heard him let out a little breath of relief at your words. ‘I know we haven’t said it but I do love you Mason. And if this is what you need to do then I’ll accept it’ you said, eyes on the floor as you heard him gasp in surprise before titling your face up to look at him.

‘I love you, too’ he whispered, fresh tears falling from each of your eyes as the reality of each others words hit you. ‘That’s why I’m doing this. It’s out of love and I know it doesn’t make it any easier. ’

‘I know’ you murmured, reaching down to the floor for your bag so you could make your way out of his car, turning back to him slightly so you could say your final words. ‘If you need me, just call me yeah? I’m here for you even if you don’t think you deserve it’ you told him quietly before reaching for the door handle.

‘I really am sorry’ he whimpered and you nodded as you looked out the window.

‘I know. I hope you figure things out Mase’ You whispered and fearing you might break down in front of him again you swiftly made your way of his car

He let you go without a fight, sitting in his car until you’d made it inside and once you were in the safety of your own home you finally let your walls come crashing down again. You’d thought you’d finally found him. The elusive one that everyone is always looking for but in the blink of an eye you were alone again

The coming weeks were tough, your emotions were all over the place and whilst you tried to hold it together, you didn’t fully understand what had happened for you to process it properly.

You knew anything to do with Mason would hurt too much to be around at the moment so you unfollowed him on everything as well as most Chelsea related things which stung a bit as you’d come to support them over the last few months but you couldn’t face the thought of seeing him. The only thing you kept was his number as you’d promised that he could text you if he needed to but you were starting to wonder if that was a good idea.

You weren’t quite sure how, but you’d made it to three months without him. You were still crushed about how things had ended but you’d grown to accept it as he felt he couldn’t give you what you deserved and you were partly thankful that he hadn’t dragged you through a relationship he couldn’t fully commit to.

You hadn’t been able to look at another guy though, using the time to also work on yourself a little bit and figure out what you wanted out of a relationship. Unfortunately your mind always came back to Mason and what could of been as he was seemingly the perfect guy for you however you just wished the timing would of been better.

It was a Sunday night and you were sat scrolling through TikTok when your arm got tired and you ended up dropping your phone on your face before it fell off the bed and down the side where you couldn’t reach.

‘Oh shit’ you huffed, rolling over and reaching down to feel for it but it was just out of your grasp. You could just about touch the screen though and your worst fears were suddenly realised when you heard the sound of the phone ringing through the AirPods in your ears. You’d obviously pressed the call button and you had no idea if they’d pick up and no way of ending the call either but you were hoping whoever it was wouldn’t answer.

‘Hello?… y/n? You there?’ You heard Mason say, your blood running cold at the sound of his voice. It had been months since you’d heard it and you hated the way it still gave you butterflies. ‘Y/n? I can hear you breathing’ he laughed and you sat yourself up, coughing quietly before speaking.

‘H-hey, Mason. Sorry I dropped my phone down the side of my bed and I’ve been trying to grab it. I must of called you by accident’

‘That’s okay, don’t apologise’

‘You can hang up if you want, I can’t quite reach it still. Unless you wanna listen to me struggle for another five minutes’ you told him, trying to ease the tension a bit and when you heard him laugh properly you felt your chest tighten at the sound.

‘No, I don’t wanna hang up. I’ve sort of been wanting to talk to you for weeks now but I’ve been too scared to call’ he murmured, making you gulp and you sat up properly. ‘Is that okay?’

‘Um, yeah that’s okay’ you told him but you were freaking out inside. You had only just settled back into life without Mason so to now have him back in your ear was making your tummy churn. ‘H-how have you been?’

‘Yeah not bad, not bad at all. You?’

‘Yeah I’ve been good thanks’

‘Good, I’m glad’ he told you, and you could hear the smile in his voice. A sound that you’d hadn’t heard at all towards the end of your relationship.

Their pair of you carried on chatting lightly, not even paying attention to the time as you still didn’t have your phone to hand. You both seemed to of slipped back into how things were, cracking jokes and laughing as you reminisced about the past but caught each other up on what you’d missed. Your whole soul felt lighter than it had in months listening to him laugh and you wanted nothing more than to see his face so you could watch his eyes light up like they used to. ‘Listen, it’s getting late and I’m conscious of your bed time’ he laughed, trying to make a joke of how much you loved to sleep and you shook your head as you laid down to try and reach your phone again.

‘How late is it? I still don’t have my- ah! Got it’ you cheered as you finally made contact with your phone, pulling it to see it was now gone 11 and you’d been on the phone for the better part of an hour and a half. ‘Oh Jesus I didn’t think it would be that late’

‘I’m sorry’ he laughed before you heard him gulp, getting ready to say something he was nervous about. ‘So listen, I go away with England for a little while in a couple of weeks and I was hoping I could see you beforehand?’

‘Oh…’ you breathed, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought of him wanting to see you and if you could physically handle it.

‘You don’t have to tell me now, just think about it yeah?’

‘Okay’ you whispered

‘Okay’ he laughed and you felt yourself smile too. ‘Just text me or something yeah? I’ll let you go get your beauty sleep but I’m really glad we got to talk today’

‘Me too’ you whispered, feeling your face heat up as you shut your eyes.

‘Good night, y/n’

‘Good night, Mase’

You gave into him quicker than you had meant to, texting him the next afternoon to say you were free to see him one evening next week and he let you know he’d arrange everything and pick you up on Wednesday night so he could take you to dinner. He didn’t give you much more information other than that, and you felt nervous as paced up and down your living room. You were unsure if you were over dressed or underdressed, if he’d like you did your hair now or the colour of your nails but a knock on the door made you stop in your tracks.

You curiosity went over to open it, unsure as to who would want you at this time but you opened it up to reveal Mason looking back at you with the heartwarming smile you fell in love with all those months ago.

‘Hey’ he breathed, his whole face lighting up with a smile that you couldn’t help but mirror. ‘it’s so good to see you’ he told you, and he looked like he really meant it, unsure if he was allowed you pull you in for a hug or not but in the end he just stuffed his hands into his pockets to avoid any awkwardness.

He looked different, a good different. His hair was a bit shorter but his beard was longer and he seemed to be standing taller than he ever had. His skin was glowing and your favourite dimple popped in his cheek as he gave you a genuine smile that made his eyes crinkle.

‘Hey Mason’ you swallowed nervously, unable to look at him properly as the nerves took over you. ‘I didn’t expect you to knock, let me just get my things’ you told him, quickly running off to grab your coat and bag before meeting him by the door again.

‘Sorry, just felt a bit weird texting you I was here, thought I’d be a gentleman and come and get you’ he smiled as you locked your door, scratching the back of his neck before leading you down to his car where he opened your door for you. The last time you were in here he was breaking up with you and the memory hit you like a slap in the face. You gave him a shy smile as you climbed in and you watched him take a few deep breaths as he made his way round to his side. ‘You ready?’ He smiled and you gave your head a nod as he pulled away from the pavement.

‘So where are we going?’ You asked, trying to get a bit of conversation going as you could tell you were both a bit terrified but he looked over with a gentle smile that eased you a little bit.

‘It’s a surprise. I think you’ll like it though’ he winked and you felt your face flush at the gesture. You kept the conversation light, talking about what you’d been up to that day and as soon as he pulled into the car park you knew where you were. The place he’d taken you on your very first date all those months ago.

You didn’t know what to say, and he was out of the door and opening yours before you had time to think about anything else, gently taking his extended hand so he could help you out and you felt the butterflies swarm as your skin touched his for the first time in a long time. He dropped your hand soon after but it founds it’s place on your waist as he guided you inside and he was as charming as ever with the staff as they led you over to your table, pulling your chair out for you and you sent him a grateful smile as he tucked you in before sitting opposite you.

‘Is this okay?’ He asked opening up his menu with a shy smile on his face and your heart raced at how good he looked in the dim lighting.

‘It’s perfect, thank you’ you told him quietly before you both looked over what you wanted.

‘Thank you for agreeing to see me, I know it can’t of been an easy decision so I appreciate you being here’ he told you as soon as your orders had been placed and your waiter had gone.

‘It’s okay’

‘I need you to know though that this isn’t random or just a catch up for us to say goodbye again. I asked you here for a reason and I’d really like it if you could hear me out’ he told you seriously and you could sense the nervousness in his voice. ‘I’m really fucking sorry’ he told you, brown eyes boring into yours. ‘I know you said you understood and everything but it was still a shit thing to do. I honestly thought I was doing the right thing for the both of us’

‘I know you did’ you nodded, reaching over for his hand to offer him some sort of comfort as you could see he was getting upset about everything. His shocked eyes met yours but his beautiful smile melted you as he squeezed your hand in his. ‘Have you been okay?’ You asked

‘I’m better than I was’ he laughed, threading his fingers through yours ‘it was rough at the start I’m not gonna lie, I shut everyone out and just tried to focus on myself but that only worked well for so long. My mum came and knocked some sense into me and I started letting more people in. Everything started slowly falling into place after that.

‘Thats good’ you smiled and he nodded shyly before looking up at you with a loving stare.

‘Yeah, but there’s one piece of the puzzle missing’ he told you quietly but you were interrupted by your food arriving. Mason sent you a quick wink as you both dug in before he started asking what was new with you and if anything had changed over the last few months. You knew the he was trying to ask if you been seeing anyone lately or if you been on a date since that fateful night but you were quite happy letting him sweat about it for a little bit, choosing to talk about everything but that but he seemed happy enough catching up on everything he’d missed.

‘I’ll be honest, I sort of unfollowed everything to do with you’ you laughed and his head fell into his hands in mock disbelief. ‘How are Chelsea doing?

‘We’re getting there’ he laughed ‘took a while to find our rhythm but it happens’ he shrugged and you sent him a sympathetic smile. You both decided when you’d finished eating you weren’t quite ready to say goodbye yet and he convinced you to join him for a drink in the bar, grabbing a small table near the back where he sat next to you on the small sofa. His arm around the back of the seat and you couldn’t help but lean into him. ‘Are you really gonna leave me guessing then?’ He smiled, slightly bringing his arm around you and when you didn’t protest he held you to him properly.

‘Whatever do you mean Mr. Mount?’ You chuckled and he ticked you side playfully.

‘You know what I mean. Please put me out of my misery’ he laughed and you decided to put your big girl pants on and be honest. All the signs he was giving you made you think he wouldn’t brush you off but you still had that little voice in your head holding you back. You pushed passed it though, letting Mason know how you felt.

‘Mase, it’s alway’s been you. And as hard as these last few months have been for me, that hasn’t changed. I haven’t so much as looked at anyone else let alone talked to anyone or dated anyone’ you told him, finally looking up to meet his glossy eyes.

‘I thought I told you not to wait for me’ he smiled and you shrugged gently.

‘I’ve never been one for listening to you’ you whispered but you didn’t have much time to say anything else as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

You couldn’t help but smile, reaching up to cup his jaw as you kissed him back. You kept it gentle, revelling in the feeling of be close to him again and touching your person. He pulled back too soon for your liking, resting his forehead against your as you got your breath back.

‘I’m a fucking idiot’ he whispered, letting out a small laugh as he pulled back to look at you. ‘I was so lost in my own dark thoughts I wasn’t thinking straight. I should’ve never let you go and I promise I never will again’

‘Mase, don’t blame yourself’ you told him, resting your hand on his chest as he kissed your cheek.

‘I meant what I told you that night. If I was ready to fall for someone then it would be you. I already knew I loved you then and when you told me you loved me I knew I didn’t deserve you but I’ve not been able to get you out of my head. You’re all I’ve thought about these past months, praying that by some miracle things would work out but I was too scared to talk to you cause I’d figured you must of moved on by now. And then when you accidentally called me last week I was so close to not answering because I was petrified about what I might find out but I’m so glad you dropped your phone on your face’ he laughed and you patted his chest gently. ‘I knew I’d never fall in love again until I was back with you’ he whispered, kissing you softly as you melted at his words. ‘Let me love you again. Fall with me, I promise I’ll catch you’

You were so overwhelmed but you knew in your heart you wanted him back in your life. Too tongue tied to say anything back to him you reached up and connected your lips once again, hoping you could say everything through the touch of your lips against his rather than words and he seemed to get the idea, kissing you back before pulling back reluctantly.

‘I know I’ve got a lot of making up to do and we can go as slow as you like but can we please get out of here?’ He laughed, kissing your cheek gently as you nodded, letting him help you up before walking back to his car. Just before he opened the door up for you he lightly pressed you against it, holding you by your cheeks as he looked you in the eyes.

‘I’ll never let you go again, y/n. I promise’

#mason mount #mason mount request #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount story #mason mount smut #mason mount concept #mason mount fanfic #mason mount blurb #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #footballer x reader #footballer x y/n

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almostloosingit · 1 year

Note

Hi how are youuuu?

I wanted to request Rindou x reader when Bonten’s prostitue came to building and she recognized reader as ex mafia member (boss you decide) but nobody in Bonten knew that, they were like “HER!!??” they were like that because she is so innocent in front of them. Rindou and here are married and he did knew that.

Thank youu

Of course! I hope you like it!

—————————————————————————————————

Her

Rindou

I wrote this while listening to:

Female reader

Cw: Child

You were already with Rindou when your boss died. Now a lot of people thought that you would take that opportunity and take over the responsibility of the boss. You didn’t. You had a meeting with others where you announced that you will be leaving. Were they surprised? No. They knew you wanted to start a family with your partner so they didn’t question your decision. And that's how you left your old life behind, ready to begin a new chapter of your life.

Did Rindou know about that? Yes. You see, your `organization` wasn’t something Bonten worried about. So that's why the information was kept between you two.

“Thank you,Y/N” said Kakucho while taking the cup of tea you handed him. “You're very generous to let us visit so often.”

“Oh don’t be silly Kakucho, it's my pleasure .” You said with a kind smile. You meant it. Your lovers' friends/ coworkers were also dear to your heart. As much as you love and trust Rindou you know that he got his ass saved by them multiple times. “It’s the least I can do to thank you guys for keeping Rin safe.”

“How did he get such a loving and innocent woman to be with him?” Mochi asked.

“Y/N, my love, did my lovely brother pay you to marry him? Or maybe threaten you?” Ran asked with a slick smile.

“You’re fucking delusional.” Scoffed Rindou while walking into the living room with your two year old.

“Sweetheart language around the little one.” You said with a smile yet disappointed look. His eyes grow big for a second.

“Right, my bad.” He responded in a calm voice. Even though you're the most soft hearted person alive, you're also the toughest woman he knows. That’s why when you told him that you were pregnant he was the happiest person alive. Of course more security was added around your house because you can never be too careful, right?

“She’s two how the fuck is she gonna understand.” The second Saznu said that everyone in the room gave him a death stare. “Oh come on.”

“Sanzu, you see Rai is two years old, she might not be able to speak fully yet, but that doesn’t mean she can't learn words or copy them. Believe it or not I prefer not to have my little girl going around swearing at this age. So if you are so kind and respect that.” You said with the sweetest smile. He felt stupid.

“I see, my bad. I will try my best.” How can he be mean to such a pure soul?

“I’m glad.” You responded. “Well then I will bring the food.”

“Do you need some help?” Your husband asked.

“Oh don’t worry I can do it by myself. You guys relax after work.” And with that you left to bring the food.

“So.. Did you pay her?”

“Ran I swear-”

“Rin’s wife is the sweetest person ever”

Is what people say.

“Y/N so nice! How did she end up with Rindou?”

That’s what they say because they don’t know.

But he knows. That’s why he absolutely loves you and knows that you can protect yourself if he’s not there. That's why he married you. Does he still worry? Yes but less than he would with a person who never tasted his type of life.

Would people believe you if you told them about you being in the mafia back in the day? No. I mean come on here you were holding your 2 year old daughter Rai who’s sitting on your hip with your hand around her, while her dad is not picking up the phone.

“For the love of god where is he?” You looked at your phone. It’s rare that your husband doesn’t pick up the phone from you. “I swear to god if this man-“

Ding

You did get a message from Haitani, not the one you wanted but close.

It was a selfie from his older brother Ran who was smiling wide with bored Rin in the back who was sitting side wise, from the camera he clearly didn’t notice, while Sanzu was posing for the photo behind Rin.

Oh for fuck sake you though to yourself. He could have told you he’s going out with the Bonten tonight. If you knew you would have your daughters favorite food cooking not his.

[You] Could you tell my lovely husband to answer his calls?

[Ran] You see, I would…but his phone is dead<3

[You] Not to sound rude but like does none of the exclusive Bonten members have a phone charger or a power bank?

[Ran] No..?

You giggled at the message.

[You] Oh you boys are build different❤️

[You] Is he drunk?

[Ran] Tipsy, but not really.

[Ran] He ain’t interested in any girls 😐

[You] Yeah I would hope so🥲

[Ran] Could you be a darling and pick him up? We all love you but he can't shut up about how much he loves you and my lovely niece❤️

[You] Of course , just send me the address :)

And here you were in sweatpants, a white t-shirt and a long black coat on and with your child on your hip that had sound proof headphones on and a bunny coat on, in the most expensive club in Japan. Everyone was dressed so revealingly and so flashy. As you walked through the people to get into the VIP section you saw some women coming in and out of that section. Oh? Now were you aware that Bonten invited strippers? Yes. Could Ran send them out even for a few minutes because he knew you were bringing Rai? Yes. Did he? No. You will have some kind words with him later for now you need to get your lovely husband.

The second you walk in you cover your child’s eyes. A stripper was trying to get the attention of your husband while he was clearly uninterested.

“Ehem” you made yourself known.

The stripper turned around confused. And the second she did her face went white.

She sure seems familiar.

“Y/n ma’am, what are you doing here?” She seems scared. While Rin peaked his head from behind her. The second he saw you the biggest smile appeared on his face. He opened his arms and so did his daughter at the sight of him. You put Rai down so she can go to her dad.

“I came to pick up my husband.” You gave her a relaxed smile. “ Do I know you by any chance? What's your name?”

“Yuko ma’am! I used to work under Eada, ma'am.” She announced. Her posture was the same you would see in the military.

“Ahh Eada’s team.” You sigh. “Haven’t spoken to her in a while, but I heard she proposed to her girlfriend. Oh don’t look so stiff, love relax”

“Sorry to interrupt your little reunion but how the fu- '' Sanzu looked at your daughter who was playing with her dad’s hair. “Flip.. do you guys know each other?”

“Old days when I was doing mafia related things.” You shrug off.

“Ma’am you were the second to the boss! People like me could only dream to work under you, to even only see you.” The woman said. Her eyes now fill with admiration like she just met her favorite celebrity.

“Oh you speak too kindly of me, but thank you. I’m glad to see you doing well.” You pat her on the shoulder. “When you see me do tell me if anyone courses you or anyone else who works here, any problems. I will make sure that the ‘problem’ will be taken care of, right?” You look over to the men that were sitting on the couch, clearly confused.

“I’m sorry.” Ran says confused. “You used to do what, Y/N?”

“I used to be in the mafia.” You said with such an innocent voice.

“Rindou, did you know about this?” Koko asked.

“Of course I did! I'm married to her, you idiot!” He said while smiling at his daughter.

“And you never thought about telling us that the lovely wife of yours used to be in the mafia?”

“No? Why would I? When was that relevant?” He answered confused.

The members were shocked. You? Y/N? The most calm, loving, innocent and caring person on this earth used to be in the mafia?!

“This is a joke right?” Kakucho asked.

“No.” You answered with a calm voice.

They know you wouldn’t lie about something like that. Why would you?

The silence is broken by little Rai.

“Papa food! I’m hungry!” Little girl announced.

“Well you hear the princess! Home time!” Rin said while standing up with Rai in his arms on his way to leave the VIP room.

“It was nice seeing you all.” You said. The second you turned around to leave you heard.

“Ma’am!” You turned around to face Yuko. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know he was your husband.”

“Oh don’t worry! How could you possibly know?” You gave her a smile. “Stay safe, love” You said with a smile and then were on your way to the exit. After putting Rai safely in the back of the car, Rindou sat in the front passenger seat.

“I love you, you know that, right? I’m all yours.” Rin said.

“I know that sweetheart and I love you too.” You said and leaned to give him a kiss. “Ran, sent me a photo of you being bored out of your mind and said that you weren’t interested in any girls. Also we need to buy you a power bank.” Rin smiled.

“Of course, love.” He was truly lucky.

Yuko turned around to face the men that were too lost for words.

“Do you have any pictures of Y/N from the mafia time?” Kaku asked.

“Ah of course!” She said then when to get her phone. When she came back she had the photo ready. “ This is Y/N and Eada.”

In the photo there were two young women.The photo was showing them from waist up. One had short, black hair, a small smile on her face and a cigarette in her hand and next to her. You. You were smiling with your tongue out and your eyes wide open with one hand doing the peace sign while the other arm was hanging around Eada’s neck. Two things in common. You were both wearing suits and you were both covered in blood, you more than Eada.

“THAT’S HER?!”

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