#*screech* EZEKIEL

[onwardshimmer]

OK SO the intro has this map right made out of cordyceps and it got me thinking thoughts

Well I stared at it for a long time and then tried to figure out if the gaps in the map had anything to do with places Ellie and Joel visit in the show. I guess only (sort of) a little bit? By the way, Eastern Colorado University (go Big Horns) was based on the Colorado State University in Fort Collins, but in the game it’s referred to as being in Boulder, so that’s where I’ve added it here. And of course in the game they go to Pittsburgh, not Kansas City, MO.

The only reason I thought of it was because of the big gap in cordyceps on the west side of the map. I wondered if it was supposed to show how since Jackson was over that way and it was less populated it was generally safer. The population of Wyoming in 2003 was only about 500,000, and considering the cordyceps knocked out about 60% of everyone, only around 200,000 would have survived the initial outbreak. Now it’s been twenty years since then, who knows how many people are still around. But let’s say everyone out of that 40% is still alive, even then, with almost 98,000 square miles in Wyoming, you’ve got about two people per square mile, meaning a fuck ton of space to run away from the couple of clickers madly screeching at each other from across the wide open west.

You get me?

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

PAIRING : dean winchester x original female character

STORY SUMMARY : in series masterlist

CHAPTER WARNINGS : age-gap. fluff. angst (kind of.) possessed sam. sexual humor.

A/N : check out the story masterlist if you missed previous chapters!

Maricela's POV

We headed back to room 248, where Sam—or I guess technically Ezekiel—was waiting. His former vessel was laid on the bed, sleeping peacefully.

"We should get going," Dean says.

We dodged the ICU staff to avoid explaining what 'Sam' was doing suddenly conscious. Once out of the hospital, we walked down the long stretch of pavement between the modern and industrial buildings.

"So? How's it look in there?" He asks Ezekiel.

"Not good. There is much work to be done." the angel answers.

"Yeah, but he's gonna wake up, right?" I ask, searching for reassurance.

"He will," Ezekiel ensures.

Unconvinced, Dean asks, "So when he does—what, is he gonna feel you inside, triaging his spleen?"

"He will not feel me, no. There is no reason for Sam to know I'm in here at all."

The older Winchester leans back, surprised by Ezekiel's remark. "You're joking. No, this is—this is too big." Dean chuckles.

"And what will he do if you do tell him he is possessed by an angel?" He asks before halting.

We also stopped and faced the angel that wore my best friend's face.

Dean puffs his lips before replying. "Well, he'll have to understand."

"And if he does not?" Dean and I hesitate to answer, knowing exactly how Sam would take it. "Without his acceptance, Sam can eject me at any time, especially with me so weak. And if Sam does eject me, he will die."

Dean stares into the distance before looking down, taking in the rough news as he shakes his head. His tongue moistens his lips, nodding as if he had reached a conclusion before tucking in his lower lip.

"Then we keep it a secret for now. Or until Sam's well enough that he doesn't need an angelic pacemaker or I find a way to tell him. I-I..." He shakes his head. "As for him being in a hospital, I'll have to figure something out."

"I can erase it all if you'd like. He will not remember any of this." Ezekiel offers.

The older Winchester looks away from the angel before contemplating his decision. It doesn't take long before he gives in. I stare at him in disbelief, my mouth falling open to protest. Knowing he'd rule against it, I force my jaw close. No matter my opinion, Dean would still do what he thinks is best.

We make it to the parking structure where Baby was before I slide into the back seat. I asked Dean to drive me to my car at the airport garage in Indiana, where I parked before departing on a plane to New York. It had everything: my clothes, fake IDs, guns, and knives I obviously couldn't take with me. Not having said anything for hours, I debated whether or not to talk to Dean. Eventually, I worked up the courage to voice my concerns.

"D," I speak loud enough over the music to grab his attention. I wait for him to turn it off before continuing. "I don't think erasing Sam's memory is the best idea. I mean, keeping this a secret from him is bad enough. Don't you think he'll notice something is off when—?"

"It's already done so, just leave it alone." He warns.

"But he could give it back. Sam's not stupid. He'll figure something's up—" I try again but get shot down when Dean interrupts.

"I said leave it alone!" His voice booms throughout the car, slightly frightening me. "I don't want it brought up again, especially when Sam is around, whether he's conscious or not. You hear me?"

I stare at him, almost in shock, before quickly wiping the emotion off my face. "Fine," I mutter before staring out the window, watching the scenery fly by.

Silence fell over us, leaving only the sounds of the passing road and the muffled engine roaring. Dean turns on the stereo, allowing AC/DC to blast out of the speakers again. It's going to be a long ride.

The Impala comes to a screeching halt as Dean pulls up behind my car. I sigh heavily, exhausted from the drive. As much as I want to get out of the car and slam the door shut behind me, throwing a stubborn tantrum to let him know of my anger, I don't move.

Instead, I say, "Look, we may not always agree on certain things, but we want what's best for Sammy. And now that he has an angel up his ass, along with the rest of them roaming the earth, I want to hunt with you guys—full time."

Dean shifts Baby into park before turning around to face me as his arm drapes across the bench seat. "You know it'll be more than your average salt and burn run."

"Duh," I roll my eyes before asking rhetorically, "You think I'm stupid?"

Dean purses his lips, looking up in thought. "Only sometimes."

I narrow my eyes, pretending to be offended, as I push his arm off the top of the seat. "Jerk!"

"Bitch." He answers in reflex. Our eyes widen before he stutters to find an excuse for his remark.

I lean forward, pinching his stubbled cheek. "Wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel special."

He swats my hand while simultaneously moving his head away from my grasp before shooting daggers my way. "Yeah, yeah. Don't touch me."

"Awe, did I make you mad, sweetie?" I smirk, satisfied to have won this round.

He rolls his eyes before replying, "I got a feeling it's gonna happen a lot more."

My eyes grow wide with excitement. "Does that mean I can hunt with you guys?"

Dean nods hesitantly, prompting my discreet and triumphant fist pump, followed by a silent 'yes.' "I'm so glad you agreed 'cause I was going to do it anyway."

He chuckles, "Is that right?"

"Of course." I open the car door, ready to get out. "So, where's the closest motel to the bunker?"

He furrows his brows, confused by my question. "Why would you need a motel?"

"I figured I'd be more comfortable sleeping in a bed than my car if I'm going to be around," I state as if it was obvious why I would want shelter.

"If you think I'm going to let you stay in a motel instead of at the bunker, then you are stupid."

Shrugging, I counter with, "Well, I wasn't going to invite myself to stay there! I have manners, you know."

"If you'd assume that we wouldn't let you live with us after everything we've been through, then you must not see how much we lo—" He cuts himself off before quickly masking with, "Care about you. And we do, you're family."

I smile after listening to his words, even the unfinished ones. "Thanks, Dean. I appreciate it."

When I leave the car, he hollers, "Meet us at the bunker. Cool?"

"As ice." I grin.

"God, you're such a dork. No wonder why you and Sam are so close." He shakes his head in disappointment.

Giggling, I shut the heavy door behind me. Once I've gotten in my vehicle, Dean drives away. I watch until his car is no longer in sight. For just a moment, I close my eyes, alone with my thoughts. Before sleep could take over, I opened my eyelids and set the key in the ignition. To Kansas, it is.

After twelve and a half hours, I made it to the bunker. Dean walks into the fortress, leaving Sam outside the steel door, with whom I can only presume is Crowley. Sam's head turns when he hears my car pulling up. His eyes squint, trying to place who I was. When he does, a beaming and infectious smile adorns his imposing countenance. I hurriedly grab my duffle bag before exiting my car and walking towards the tallest Winchester.

"Hey! What are you doing here?" Sam asked, releasing his hold on Crowley to wrap me in an embrace.

I smile into his chest, pleased to have Sam back, but it falters when I remember an angel lying dormant behind it. Basking in the warmth of his strong arms, I summon the courage to tell the skewed truth. Once it came, I pulled away from the hug.

"Well, I called Dean about the so-called 'meteor shower,' and he told me everything. 'Thought I'd lend you guys a hand, help find a way to get rid of all the fallen nukes walking around down here. So, he offered me a room at Hotel Winchester."

"Dean agreed?" He asks with shock written across his features, knowing his brother would never willingly concur with me about hunting.

Anytime we'd work on a case together, I'd get stuck playing secretary, thanks to Dean. On rare occasions, he'd let me hunt, but only after pleading with help from Sam. I'd always proved to handle myself, but despite that, he'd still never—openly—concede. I figured it was hard for him to understand why I joined the life of a hunter, especially at such a young age when he didn't have a choice. So if that meant trying to limit me from hunting to expand my chances of survival to choose another career, he'd do it.

"I can be very convincing, Sammy." I bump his shoulder teasingly.

"Clearly," he chuckles. "So... did you show him cleavage or bend over?"

My eyes nearly popped out of my head as I dramatically gasped at his question. One look at his mischievous smile sent my fist flying towards his arm. He flinched but didn't bother to stop the impact before it landed. Instead, his laugh got louder, taunting me. I roll my eyes in frustration and embarrassment before muttering,

"Shut the hell up, Winchester."

I eye the man with noise-canceling headphones and a rag over his head. After Sam's annoying laughter dies, I ask, "What's with him?"

"Dean figured Crowley might know a few things, so he kept him alive, for now."

"Hm, sounds like something you would do," I imply.

"Yeah... that's what my brother said. Honestly, I'd have stabbed him in the brain."

I frown after hearing those words come from him. "Well, you can do that after we get answers."

Sam grabs the King of Hell by the shoulders before leading him into the dark-lit tunnel. I close the outside door behind us, sealing us in the concrete vestibule. The adjacent door creeks loudly once I pry it open. I step out onto the balcony, surprised at how nice the bunker is despite having been abandoned for 55 years. The bunker appeared inspired by the 1930s Chicago Art Deco scene, primarily built with concrete, stone, brick, and metal. To my right was a semi-circular industrial staircase descending to the main floor. Beside it was another platform, furnished with two vintage English tufted leather chairs with a chess board on top of a Victorian library writing table.

"Hey. All good?" Sam asks, grabbing my attention.

I peer over the metal rail to see Dean and Kevin.

"Is it ever. Come on." Dean's voice echoes from below. Then, he walks toward the bottom of the stairs.

Kevin stares up with his mouth agape, his eyes never leaving the King of Hell. We guide Crowley down the metal steps before Sam and Dean take him elsewhere. I walk over and rest my bag on a table that displays the world map, my eyes wandering around the 'Command Room.' Telegraphs, ham radios, switchboards, clocks, and other unfamiliar devices littered around the space. My gaze falls upon the prophet after seeing a table in the neighboring room on its side with books scattered in front of it.

"Hey, Kev." I smiled at the boy a year and a half younger than me.

"What's Crowley doing here?" He ignores my greeting and gets straight to the point.

"Uh," I look away awkwardly. Knowing the history between Crowley, him, and his mother, I settle with, "Maybe the boys can answer that for you."

Kevin turns away and walks up the few steps that lead to the next room. I follow, stepping over the strewed books and around the overturned table into what seems like a library. Books were cased along the walls while various swords were showcased as decor. Mahogany tables line vertically down the stone and brick room. At the far end of the library, in its private exhibit, displayed a gigantic telescope.

"So, where do you think they put him?" I ask, walking to one end of the table while he goes to the other.

"In the dungeon." He answers as we lift and correct its stance.

"They have a dungeon in this place?" I question, astonished.

Of course, they have a dungeon.

"Yeah," We line it with the other row of tables before he asks, "Haven't you been here before?"

"No, this is my first time."

He hums in response before walking over to the books lying on the floor. My feet wander towards the bookshelf closest to Kevin. My finger drags along the old leather spines, admiring the wide variety. I get so engulfed in reading each title on the old covers that I jump in fright when Kevin suddenly shouts.

"What's Crowley doing here?" The Winchester brothers walk out of the corridor and towards us as Kevin continues to bombard them with reasonable questions. "Why isn't he dead?! Why aren't you stabbing him right now?!"

"All right, all right. Chill out, Kevin, okay?" Dean raises his right hand to the prophet to stop his berating while walking into the library with Sam close behind. "We need him."

"What?" Kevin asked, more confused than before.

"Kevin, look, if we can get Crowley to give us the name of every demon he's got topside, we can hunt them down—all of them," Sam speaks up, trying to calm the frantic boy.

"He will break, okay? And when he does, we'll hold him down while you knife him. Then we all go out for ice cream and strippers." Dean smirks.

I roll my eyes at the latter. Just what I love to hear, the enjoyment of the man I have a deep, profound crush on wanting to 'go out for strippers.'

"Nice," I mutter, ignoring Dean's sudden gaze.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch his mouth open to speak, but Sam talks instead.

"Just stay away from him, all right?" He urges the prophet.

Kevin takes a moment to ponder their words before asking, "So, now what?"

"I got to make some phone calls," Dean tells Sam before turning to Kevin. "You need to hit the angel tablet, see if you can find anything on the spell that Metatron used to empty out Heaven."

"Yeah, maybe we can reverse it before the God Squad does too much damage," Sam says.

"Yeah, if we're lucky. All right. Check the net for anything angel-y." Dean orders his brother.

"Or demon-y," I add.

"Or monster-y or ghost-y or-" Dean stops himself before he and Sam let out sighs. He looks down at his phone to search his contacts. "It's gonna be a busy year."

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[apilgrimpassingby]

Demons of the Hebrew Bible

Since today is also the day for Lord of Spiritsposting, I've decided to make a post I considered yesterday - the demons of the Hebrew Bible. This will be a long post, so I'm inserting a "Keep Reading".

Azazel: Appears only once in Leviticus 16, as the being in the wilderness to whom the goat with the people's sins laid on it in the Day of Atonement ritual is given (this isn't sacrifice, because the animal isn't killed or offered on an altar, among other things). Becomes a Devil figure in some later Jewish literature like the Book of Enoch, and is associated with deserts, sin and goats - the name literally means "the goat that goes away" (an archaic translation gives us the word "scapegoat"), and the seemingly-random reference to goat demons in Leviticus 17:7 comes just after Azazel's appearance.

Deber: The most prominent of the gang, appearing (usually in conjunction with other figures on this list) in Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Hosea, Amos, Habakkuk and the Pentateuch a total of 49 times, usually unleashed as punishment for some sin by Israel (compare "handing people over to Satan" in St. Paul's letters - 1 Corinthians 5:5, 1 Timothy 1:20). A nocturnal demon of pestilence and destruction associated with the underworld in Canaanite mythology.

Hereb: Rendered as "the sword" in English; the next most prominent one, appearing 29 times and, like Deber, in conjunction with the others. A demon of violence and destruction associated with blood-drinking (Isaiah 34:5, Jeremiah 46:10) and flesh-eating (Deuteronomy 32:42, Jeremiah 12:12) and probably the rider on a red horse from Revelation 6:3-4.

Lilit: Appears just once, Isaiah 34:14, where she's dwelling in some ruins. Usually translated as "screech owl" or "night bird", but some use "Lilith". In Mesopotamian mythology, the lili are a class of nocturnal female demons associated who kill babies and are associated with owls, so the translation as "screech owl" is acceptable. The Songs of the Sage from the Dead Sea Scrolls refer to liliyot (feminine plural) as a class of demons: "And I, the Instructor, proclaim His glorious splendour so as to frighten and to te[rrify] all the spirits of the destroying angels, spirits of the bastards, demons, liliths, howlers...

Livyatan: Usually anglicised as Leviathan, and appears five times: Job 3:8 and chapter 41, Psalms 74:12-14 and 104:26 and Isaiah 27:1. Based on those appearances, he's a multi-headed fire-breathing sea serpent immune to weapons who battles with Yahweh and (of course) always loses. The myth of a god fighting a sea serpent is a staple of world mythology. Likely correlates to the beast from the sea of Revelation 13:1-10, since Leviathan is paired with a beast from the earth (Behemoth; Job 40:15-24) - also compare Revelation 13:4 ("Who is like the beast, and who can fight against it?”) to Job 41:33-34 ("On earth there is not his like, a creature without fear. He sees everything that is high; he is king over all the sons of pride").

Nephilim: Famously appear in Genesis 6:1-4 as the warriors born of the sons of God and the daughters of men, understood in Second Temple Jewish texts such as the Book of Enoch and the Septuagint to be giants born of fallen angels and human women. They appear by the name Anakim or Rephaim in Genesis 14:5, 15:20, Deuteronomy 1:28, 2:10-11, 2:20-21, 3:11, 3;13, 9:2 and Joshua 11:21-22, 12:4, 13:12, 14:12, 14:15 and 15:8 and war with giants appears in 2 Samuel 21:16-22, 1 Chronicles 20:4-8 and, of course, 1 Samuel 17 (the David and Goliath story).

Qeteb: Appears just 4 times (Deuteronomy 32:24; Psalm 91:6; Isaiah 28:2; Hosea 13:14), together with Deber in the Psalms and Hosea appearances and together with Resheph in Deuteronomy; if there's any lesson from this post so far, it's that plague demons hunt in packs. A diurnal plague demon whose name is rendered in English as "destruction"; nothing more to be said.

Ra'av: The third most prominent one, appearing 35 times; a famine demon whose name is rendered in English as "famine" or "hunger" who is unleashed on Israel as punishment together with (surprise!) Hereb and either Deber or Resheph. Probably the rider on a black horse from Revelation 6:5-6.

Rephaim: The spirits of dead kings who dwell in the underworld not doing much, translated in the ESV as shades and appearing in Isaiah 14:9 and 26:14; the same imagery and concept is being used by Ezekiel 32:20-30.

Resheph: A demon of plague and conquest worshipped as a god in Canaanite and Egyptian culture, depicted as a bearded archer on a white horse. Appears just 6 times in the Hebrew Bible (Deuteronomy 32:24; Habakkuk 3:5 Psalm 78:48; Job 5:7, Song of Songs 8:6); the name is rendered as "plague" or "pestilence" or occasionally "fire" or "sparks" because the name literally means "burning". Probably the rider on a white horse from Revelation 6:2.

Sources and Further Reading

"Before Him Went Pestilence (Hab. 3:5) - Biblical Lexis and Semantic Field of Epidemics" by Jozef Jankovic for The Old Testament Society of South Africa

"A Land of Giants" by Frs. Andrew Stephen Damick and Stephen DeYoung on The Lord of Spirits

"War, Famine, Disease, Death and Hades" by Fr. Stephen DeYoung on The Whole Counsel of God

"Who is Azazel?" by Fr. Stephen DeYoung on The Whole Counsel of God

Who is Lilith - Ancient Development and Origins of the Demon Queen by Dr. Justin Sledge on ESOTERICA

Or in short - stop making it all about Lilith. Use some other Hebrew Bible demons.

[helenaheissner]

Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 14

Hello, lovelies! Hope y'all are doing well :)

Don't forget you can read three chapters ahead on this story, twenty chapters ahead on "A Dream of Summer Rain", and two chapters ahead on "Magical Girl Exorcist Squad", by becoming a paid subscriber on my Substack or my Patreon!

***

Zeke

12 months earlier

I squatted in the Pits, putting the finishing touches on our minibot, Gurren, in preparation for our fight with Team Bottle Rocket in twenty minutes. I was so zoned in on getting all the screws extra tight that I almost missed my phone blaring out a Kendrick Lamar song. I groaned when I saw the caller ID. “Hi, Mom,” I said, attempting to keep the stress and frustration out of my voice. It was better to get whatever ‘conversation’ this was out of the way now- if I tried to put it off and ignore her, she’d just be even more cantankerous about it when we actually got around to it. 

“Hellllo, Ezeekielll,” she slurred, her words blending together at the borders of the syllables. Oh, good. “How are you this evening?”

“Uh, a little busy to be honest, Mom,” I said. 

“Busy? Busy with what? It’s not like you have a job.”

I breathed in a sharp sigh through my nose. “I do have a job, Mom. It’s just seasonal.”

“Those obnoxious shows you go on don’t count as a-”

“Mom, was there a specific reason you called?” I asked, focusing on keeping the screws tight. “Like I said, I’m a little busy.”

“Too busy to talk to your dear ol’ mum,” she said, her accent starting to slip out. She’d been training herself not to have one ever since she’d moved to the States back when she was a teenager, but sometimes it still flared up. Usually when she’d indulged in one too many Screwdrivers. “That’s a problem, you know- you’ll never get a girlfriend if you hate your own mother.”

“I don’t hate you, Mom,” I said monotone. 

“Love the exact phrasing there, Ezekiel. Very gentlemanly.”

The screwdriver, my screwdriver, a literal one, slipped out of my hands. And as I reached down for it, I noticed my breathing- sharp, fast, all inhale and holding my breath, only exhaling when I absolutely needed to. “Thank you, Mother, I try.”

“Don’t you get sarcastic with me, young man- that’s hardly a trait that will do you any favors with the ladies either.”

I reached for the screwdriver on the ground, but my hand trembled when I tried to grip it. It slipped out of my grasp and hit the floor once again. “Look, Mom, my match starts in a few minutes, I really need to finish these repairs on Dai Guren-”

“Oh God, I forgot you gave that stupid thing a name. How asinine.”

Cold, soggy shame dripped off of me, and I let myself inhale and exhale through my mouth. 

And of course she kept going: “And that’s another thing- why is it just you doing this? Don’t you have teammates for this nonsense? They don’t appreciate you. If they did, they wouldn’t force you to do all the work-”

“They don’t force me to do all the work, Mom!” I snapped. “And I’m doing these repairs because I’m good at them. They had to go handle other stuff for the match. It’s not actually that complicated, but you refuse to understand!”

A few moments of deafening silence poured out from the other end of the line. “This is clearly not going to be a productive conversation. I think I’m done with you for the evening. I’ll call you back when you’re in a more reasonable headspace.”

“Mom-”

She ended the call before I could get another word out. 

It wasn’t quiet in the pits- people were using saws to carve up metal, flames were welding parts together, drills were digging into machinery. All the high-pitched screeches coalesced into a singular plaintive wail. 

A tear fell off my chin and shattered on the ground. I tore off my work gloves and wiped my eyes, hoping nobody would see me. I wasn’t much of a crier. No reason to ruin that reputation now, when I had other things to focus on. The bot was ready for the fight, and that was what I had to focus on, not the hollow pit in my chest rapidly filling with anger and resentment and freaking exhaustion-

“Hey, what’s wrong?” 

My fingers parted across my visage. I hadn’t even realized my face was buried in my hands. I looked through the gaps to find Calloway there, standing across the narrow middle walkway that ran down the white room. He was standing there in jeans and a black hoodie drawn up over his head, but he pulled it back and shaked out his shaggy brown hair. His eyes always looked… Harsh, angry, aggressive. But not now, not at this moment. Now they looked… Softer. Concerned. And… Genuine, in their concern. I’d gotten pretty good at spotting the difference between genuine concern and artificial; having parents like mine forces you to learn as fast as possible. But right now, here, he… 

“I… Just a difficult phone call with my mom,” I said, pulling my hands away from my face entirely, directing my gaze at the floor. 

Calloway stepped forward and gave me a hug. I flinched- the guy really had no sense of personal space, but honestly… I needed it, then, so I hugged him back. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

I mumbled, “I guess I just…”

“What?” Calloway asked.

“It’s nothing, it’s…”

“What?” Calloway said, pulling out of the hug and looking me directly in the face, furrowing his brow. 

“I’m… Just surprised that you care,” I said. 

He gulped and took a step backward, along with a slight bite to his lower lip that ended as soon as it began. “I, uh… Yeah, yeah that’s fair.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“No, you did,” he said, turning his head so he didn’t have to look me in the eyes anymore. “It’s fine. Really, it is. I just… I really must come off like I’m a lot, all the time, huh?”

“I… What do you want me to say here, dude?” I said, taking a step towards him. 

He took another step back. “Just the truth. Just… How you really feel.”

I drew in another deep breath. “Yes. You… You do.”

He gulped again. “That… That explains a buncha stuff. I kinda figured people knew I… But I guess they wouldn’t. Fair enough.”

“Look, Calloway-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said with a playful wave of his hand, plastering a bogus smile onto his face. “Just means I sell the heel routine well. That’s not a bad thing. And this isn’t really about me- I was asking you what’s wrong. Um… Do you… Do you wanna talk about it?”

My phone alarm hollered inside my pants’ pocket. Ten minutes till the fight. They’d be starting the introductory monologues soon. “I dunno if I have time right now, but… I appreciate it. I really, sincerely do. Maybe… Maybe next time?”

“Next time I catch you crying, tough guy?” he said, the smile edging just a little closer to genuine. 

I forced out a little chuckle. “Yeah, I guess so. For now… Can I just get another hug?”

He nodded rapidly. “Of course.”

Then he went in for it and wrapped his arms around my back. And it felt… Good. Supportive. Strong, but not aggressive.

Maybe there was more to Keith Calloway than I thought.

***

NOW

I sprayed some breath spray into my mouth while I paced up and down the hallway of my apartment, my hands wringing together as I tried to keep my mind clear and focused. 

I liked Kate. That much was hard to deny. She was bright and funny and passionate, just radiated warmth and empathy, and I felt like I could let my guard down around her in a way I couldn’t around other people. Including Faith.

But I liked Faith. I had for a while now. She was chill and focused and creative, a freaking dancing ray of light that always brightened up my day, who I desperately wanted to protect and take care of. 

And they were both incredibly pretty. 

Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit what is wrong with me? Just like my jackass of a father, can’t keep it in my pants, can’t be happy with what I have, like a real man is supposed to. 

But that didn’t matter. I was going on a date with Katie tonight. I was moving on from Faith, because that was the right thing to do, because she didn’t like me back, because she didn’t swing that way and just wasn’t physically attracted to me. And Kate… She made it really easy to want to move on, and she seemed to really want to be with me, for some unfathomable reason. Holding her in my arms made me feel like the strongest person in the world; the way she’d just slid up to me and put herself there like it was the most natural fit possible… It felt really good. I felt really good around her. 

My phone buzzed, and I saw from the caller ID that it was my mom. 

My finger loomed over the ‘accept call’ button for a solid minute before the phone simply stopped ringing altogether. Then it immediately started ringing again, because my mom was physically incapable of taking no for an answer. 

A spark of anger caught in my chest, burning my insides and sending proverbial smoke out of my ears. Goddammit, I was twenty-three years old, financially self-sufficient, and living in my own place. She did NOT get to keep pulling this crap. She hadn’t reached out to me in months and now, when I had something legitimately important to do, she decided it was the perfect time to interrupt. Couldn’t even be bothered to text first, asking if now was a good time. 

I thought about a year ago, and the mess I’d become when my mom called before that match, and Kate, back before I’d known she was Kate, before she’d known she was Kate, before she and I could even call ourselves friends, let alone whatever we were now, had held me and comforted me. Didn’t have to be asked, just offered and did her best to make good on that offer. That was when it had started to dawn on me that underneath it all, she really was a kind person with a big heart. 

It was also when it really started to dawn on me that my mom was an absolute bitch. Maybe she wasn’t as unbearable as my dad, but it would be a truly Herculean feat to be anywhere near as unpleasant as that selfish asshole. 

I hit ‘ignore.’ 

I breathed out, slowly and carefully, leaning against the wall. I was emphatically not going to cry right now, because I didn’t want Kate to feel like she had to take care of me tonight. I wanted to take care of her, to show her that yes, she really was the cute, sweet, wonderful girl she was trying to be. 

The tumblers of our lock shifted as the front door opened. Faith stepped through, a sad smile on her face. “Heyo,” she said. “Your hot date is downstairs waiting for you. Show her a good time tonight, yeah?”

“Of course,” I nodded, double checking my pockets to make sure I had my phone and wallet. Good to go. “You gonna be okay by yourself tonight?”

She gave an errant wave of her hand and said, “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I can get caught up on my soaps.”

“You watch soap operas?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, old ones from the 1960s, mostly,” she said. “They’re really funny when you’re stoned.”

“Fair enough,” I said. I gave her a quick hug, which she happily accepted. “Don’t wait up for me!”

“Will do!” she said as I made my way out the door. 

I headed down the stairs and out front, where Kate’s pickup truck sat in the thin driveway that led into the parking garage below my building. I did a double-take when I saw her, leaning against the front of her truck. She wore a red dress that covered her chest wholesale, but beneath, what looked like boobs protruded from the dress in question. Falsies, presumably- Faith must have loaned her old ones out. Still, it couldn’t be denied that they looked real good on Kate, bringing the whole look together. Her dress had a slit going up the side, showing off her long, smooth legs well up her thick thighs. Bright red lipstick was painted across her mouth, and my whole body was screaming at me to cup her face in my hands and shove my tongue down her throat. So, of course, in my infinite intelligence and articulation, all I managed to choke out was, “Whoa.”

She smiled the kind of smile you want to protect with every fiber of your being. “Like what you see?” Her voice was high and breathy, each syllable enunciated slowly and carefully. She’d only been out for a few days and she’d already come so far. It was astonishing. It was… She was… 

“Absolutely beautiful,” I said, unable to blink. 

Her jaw dropped, and she stared at me.

Then a car pulled up behind her and honked at us- I recognized one of my neighbors behind the wheel, an older, heavyset woman named Nina. 

“C’mon, let’s get going,” Kate said. She gestured me into the truck and then we pulled out of the driveway. “So, where are we going?” she asked. 

“Uh, Indian place on Lincoln Boulevard. It’s over by my old college,” I said, trying not to stare at her too much and venture into the dubious territory of ‘creepy weirdo.’

“Sounds good, I love Indian food,” she smiled again. 

Kiss her, you idiot, my brain hollered. Wait, no, she’s driving. Bad idea. But kiss her before the end of the night! “How’d the appointment go?”

“Fantastic! I’ll be able to start hormones hopefully by the end of the week!”

“That’s fantastic!” I said. “How’d the other one go?”

She spat out a petulant sigh. “Less good. My sponsor is…”

“Is?”

“Let’s be charitable and go with ‘pragmatic,’” she said, her voice dropping low. She grunted with frustration and her eyes peeled wide as she heard her own words. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” I said, trying my best to sound reassuring. “I don’t mind if you use your… Other voice.” I managed to stop myself from saying ‘boy voice’ or ‘normal voice.’ Thank God.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “It’s… It’s not that I don’t want you to hear it, it’s that I don’t like hearing it.”

“That’s fair,” I said. 

“But yeah, if I want to keep Gaines as my sponsor, I may or may not have to lean into this whole trans thing as part of my ‘brand.’ Ugh, I hate that word. Gag me.”

“Is that a request?” I smirked. 

She blushed redder than the Red Comet. “What if it is?”

“Then I’d be happy to accommodate.” What the hell, when did I get this bold?! It must have been my dick talking for me. Made sense- I’d spent… Several years not listening to it. How long had it been since I’d last had sex, anyway? Two years? Three? 

Getting ahead of yourself, Underhill. “Do you think you’re gonna stick with Gaines?” I asked. 

“Don’t see what choice I have,” she replied as she turned onto Lincoln and started driving west. “I don’t exactly have the capital to self-fund. How do you and Faith raise money, anyway?”

“Uh, a couple ways. Grant from our old college, a loan from Faith’s parents, and the money she and I raise doing temporary engineering jobs during the off-season. Usually like…, four, five months full time work with one of the aerospace companies in the city, then we spend the rest of the year working on the fun stuff.”

“I should probably look into something like that,” Kate said. “I don’t dislike working for my parents, but I’m never gonna make the kind of money I need to keep going in the ‘bot battle circuit working twenty hours a week at an indie retail outlet.”

“I have some contacts at a few places that I can send your way,” I offered. “Might be able to help you get a foot in the door, do some interviews.”

“That… Would be amazing,” she beamed. “You’d really do that for me?”

“‘Course I would,” I said. I want you to keep smiling that smile. “I just… Want you to be happy.”

“Thanks,” she said. “For… Everything.”

“No problem, Katie,” I said. 

She giggled. God, her laugh was adorable. So, I said that out loud. 

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“You have a cute laugh,” I said simply.

“It’s not cute… I’m not…”

“If you’re about to say you’re not cute, just know that there’s nothing cuter than a cute girl insisting she’s not cute.”

“... Dammit. You’re right.”

 “Gotcha,” I said, snapping my fingers. 

We carried on like that until we got to the restaurant, where, to my astonishment, we were seated immediately. I ordered a lamb vindaloo with a side of garlic naan, and she ordered butter chicken with onion naan. We split an order of vegetable samosas as well, and we were seated by the window looking out into the street. A pair of candles sat between us on our glass table, casting a bit of glow in the darkened dining area. 

“So, you went to that school over there, then?” Kate asked. “LMU?”

“Yeah, all four years.”

“How’d you wind up there?” she asked. 

“Uh, well, I applied to UCLA and didn’t get in,” I said with a self-deprecating laugh. “Which is true of, uh, most of the school, actually.”

“They couldn’t get into UCLA?” Kate chuckled. 

“Or USC. Or Harvey Mudd. Or Cal Poly.”

“Ahhh, gotcha. You said you grew up around here, right?”

“For a given value,” I said. “I was raised in Riverside.”

“Inland Empire, I see,” she said. “That place as horrifying as David Lynch makes it look?”

I chuckled. “Only when it’s on fire.”

“So, like, all Summer?”

“Pfft, basically.” 

“It’s funny, you know, we grew up in the same neck of the woods but never met till we started doing what we do,” Kate said, resting her chin on her hands while her elbows were propped up on the table. “I know that Venice and Riverside aren’t actually that close together-”

“Especially with the traffic in this town making it a longer trek,” I said. 

“Still,” she said. “It’s cool, knowing that someone like you was relatively close this whole time.” 

Her eyes… 

“Zeke?” she asked. “You okay?”

“Hm? Yeah, why?”

“You went quiet and started staring at me,” she said, raising her head, putting her hands flat on the table, concern exuding from her frown. “Did I lay it on too thick?”

I shook my head. “Not at all.” I reached for her hand. “Honestly, I’m worried about doing the same, so why don’t we just be ourselves tonight, and see how that works for us?”

“I’d like that,” she smiled again. That smile… 

The server, a middle-aged Indian man with pot-belly and an impressive beard, brought our samosas and a few different sauces over and set them between us. And with him came, very unexpectedly, some familiar faces. 

“Zeke?” Olivia asked. She was flanked by her new teammates, Tom, a medium-height black man in his late twenties with a shaved head and massive hands, and Winston, a white boy with a wild mane of brown hair who looked like he was still in college. And standing next to them were Team Forest Fire and Team Sparky-Sparky-Boom. Forest Fire was three guys all in their thirties, each of them shredded and rocking full beards. Their captain, Lance Masterson, was a behemoth of a white man with a shaved head and some burn marks on his arms and neck; his teammates were Jake George, a tall black man with long dreads and nose ring, and Evan Hernandez, a shorter Mexican-American man built like a powerlifter. Team Spark-Sparky-Boom, meanwhile, was two people, a husband and wife team called David and Eileen Portman. David was comfortably in his early forties, hair more salt than pepper, clean shaven and thin as a rail; Eileen looked like she was in her late thirties, and was shorter and thicker, with long brown hair beginning to spark with silver. 

A low-pitched groan escaped my throat, and I was surprised at how loud it was, only to look over and see that Kate was making roughly the same mouth-noise. 

“H-h-hey,” I eventually choked out. “How y’all doing?”

“Not bad,” Masterson said. 

“Not bad at all!” Hernandez said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Kate.

She blushed, then looked down at her food. 

“So, this must be Kate,” Olivia said. 

“Um, how do you know about-”

“Faith told me.”

“Faith told you what?” I said, my eyes narrow. 

“Oh, just that you’d finally found a girl for you… Wait a sec. Wait wait wait a second. Calloway? Is that you under all that makeup?”

My eyes bulged with panic, and I saw Kate’s lips trembling and her hands wringing together. Oh, this was bad- she wasn’t ready to come out to everyone at work yet, she’d said as much to me in the car ride. She’d been planning to come out in two weeks when she had her next fight, with the same kind of surprise announcement that Faith had been afforded. 

And now… Now she was having to come out to her work rivals by accident. For the third time in two weeks.

Goddammit.

“Yeah,” she said, her voice dropping low. Then, in her higher, breathier voice, she said, “Yes. It’s me. My preferred name is Kate, pronouns are she/her.”

Olivia’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Oh, so you’re a trans too?” Mrs. Portman said. 

I died inside a little bit. 

“I, uh, yeah. I’m a trans woman,” Kate said.

“Wow, two of you in the tournament this year, huh? What are the odds?” Mrs. Portman said. “And this isn’t a publicity stunt?”  

“Dear, hush, that’s rude,” Mr. Portman said, playfully swatting his wife on the arm, blissfully unaware of the psychic damage he and his wife had just inflicted on Kate. 

“No,” Kate said, eyes dropping low, fingers drumming nervously on the table. Oooohhhh dear. “I’m just… I’m a woman.”

“Hey, listen, it’s nice to see you all, but Kate and I were just trying to have a nice, quiet dinner,” I said. “Alone. As in just the two of us-”

“That’s fine, broseph,” Masterson said, “We can all take that big table outside, leave you two to your date.”

“I’d appreciate that a lot,” I nodded, putting a metric ton of emphasis behind each syllable. 

“As would I,” Kate said. Practically squeaked. Must… Protect… At all costs. 

“No problem, brosephine,” Masterson said. “You look great, bee-tea-dubs.”

They all cleared out and headed for the massive rectangular longtable outside… Except Olivia, who remained standing exactly where she was in front of us with her brow creased and her hands on her hips and her jaw slack. 

“Uh, Olivia, you coming with?” Tom asked while standing in the doorway, with an ‘aw shit here we go again’ expression on his face.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” Olivia said. 

Tom sighed and let the door close as he stepped outside. You tried, Tom. You tried. 

“Can, uh, I help you with something?” I said, trying not to get too distressed by Kate’s thousand-yard stare. Given that she’d only a few days prior called out and challenged Olivia in front of a screaming crowd while on camera and then immediately proceeded to have a massive panic attack… I didn’t like what this was almost certainly doing to her brain. 

“I just… When Faith said you’d found someone, this wasn’t what I expected,” Olivia said. “Does she… She knows who Kate really is, right?”

“Yeah, she does,” I said, creasing my own brow, “Why do you ask?”

“I just… I really just… Calloway? Seriously?! Calloway?!” Olivia said. “Of all freaking people, you choose Calloway over Faith?!”

“I’m sitting right here, you know,” Kate said. 

“R-right. Sorry, I… You look nice,” Olivia said. 

“Thanks,” Kate said. “Just, uh, quick question: why do you care?”

“Because I care about Faith,” Olivia said. 

“Right, sure you do,” Kate said. “You care so much about the girl you brutally dumped in the most vulnerable moment of her life. Right. Definitely. Absolutely.”

“Also, why would Faith care?” I said, attempting to navigate the conversation away from Kate’s (admittedly accurate) criticism of Olivia. “She and Kate have patched things up- they’re friends now.”

“Really?” Olivia said. 

“Yes, really,” Kate said. “She and I hung out literally all day today. She helped me pick out this dress, helped me with my voice. She and I are fine. And she’s fine with this.”

“Oh, honey,” Olivia said. “You don’t… Really believe that. Do you?”

Kate blinked, and her eyes went low again. 

“What does that mean?” I asked. 

“It means-”

“Don’t,” Kate said, slamming her hand against the table. 

Olivia took a step back. “Right. Sorry. It’s… Look, Zeke, I know you and I were never super close, but I gotta ask- is Faith really completely on board with all this?”

“Yes! Why wouldn’t she be?” Did someone slip me a crazy-pill? What the hell was going on?!

“I just… Can’t believe you would choose Ke… Kate over Faith,” Olivia said. 

“It’s not a choice,” I said, grabbing Kate’s hand and squeezing it tightly, a fire lighting inside my head. “I like Kate. She’s a beautiful woman, inside and out.”

“Phrasing,” Kate said in a thirsty whisper, eyebrows raised. 

“Babe, not now,” I said. 

“Babe?” she said with a bright smile.

“Babe? Wow,” Olivia said. “This is… A lot to accept, tbh.”

“And why, exactly, do you get a say?” I said. 

“I-”

“That was a rhetorical question,” I said. “You don’t. At all.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll back off,” Olivia said, holding up her hands, palms flat. “I just… Can’t help but think you’re making a mistake. You and Faith would be cute together, that’s all I’m saying.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I growled. 

“You would be,” Kate whispered. 

“What?” I said. Seriously, WHAT?!

“Backing away now,” Olivia said. “I’m sorry for saying anything- you’re right, it’s really none of my business. But, uh, Calloway? I still remember what you said last Friday. I’ll see you in the battle box.”

And with that, she walked away. My head spun with confusion and anger at the implications of what she said, the insinuations, the freaking hubris. And on top of it all, Kate looked ready to cry again. 

Our waiter finally came over with our food on a tray and set it down, but looked at us with a worried expression. “Would you two like this to go, by any chance?”

“Yes, please,” Kate and I said simultaneously. 

We waited till the food was put in takeaway boxes, and we made a hasty departure. I was pretty sure I heard Mrs. Portman shouting something at us as we walked out the front door, but I wasn’t sure what. “Where should we take all this?” Kate asked. 

“I have one idea, if you’re up for it,” I said, with a grin I hoped would be the first step to salvaging this evening. 

We headed for Dockweiler Beach, only a few miles from the restaurant, basically deserted in the waning hours of the evening before it was closed to the public. Waves lapped against the sand in a steady, drawling rhythm, and the rich, relaxing scent of seawater filled the air. We sat on a blanket Kate kept in her truck, eating our food while watching the tide crashing into the shore and the setting sun casting an orange-gold glow over everything. Kate had tied her hair back while we ate, but loose strands kept blowing about from the seabreeze and colliding with her face.

I reached over and brushed a strand back, and she smiled at me. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I’m, uh, sorry about what happened.”

“Don’t be, it isn’t your fault,” she said. “Honestly, you handled it really well. Way better than I would have in your position.”

“And what position is that?”

“The guy’s. You’re… You’re a really good guy, Zeke Underhill,” she said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. 

I laughed in spite of myself. “That’s nice of you to say. I… I’m not really used to hearing it,” I admitted, slumping my shoulders. 

“I find that hard to believe. You’re such a gentleman.”

“I… The thing is,” I started. Oh boy, I was about to admit this to her. This was big. I rarely talked about this. Not even with Faith. “... My parents… Are not the types to give out praise often, and a lot of it had to do with them thinking I wasn’t living up to their expectations of what a man was supposed to be. My Mom… Well, she’s English, she’s got all these old-fashioned, old-world ideas about men and women. She sent me to my room when I cried at a movie once when I was seven. My dad wasn’t much better- kind of a rough and tumble man’s man type. When I didn’t make my high school’s basketball team in ninth grade, he reamed me out for half an hour straight. Never mind the fact that I was short and fat back then. Which they both reminded me of constantly.”

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry,” Kate said, putting down her food and placing her hand on my shoulder. I gave it a squeeze. She continued, “My parents have always been so chill and supportive. I can’t even imagine what it’s like to… To grow up with that instead of what I had.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Honestly, I’m mostly over it at this point. I moved out for college when I was eighteen and never looked back. The only thing that really still gets to me is how hypocritical they were about everything. My dad… He’s a total pig, cheats on my mom constantly, and Mom just drinks to forget it every time the proof is thrown in her face. They’re both so full of shit, but I still… I still have this fear sometimes, that they’re right, that I’m not good enough, that there’s something I’m doing wrong, that…”

“That?”

“... That I’ll be a cheater like my dad, constantly balancing multiple girls, stringing along someone I’m supposed to be committed to. I think… I think that’s what bugged me about what Olivia was insinuating, like I was somehow being disloyal to Faith. Which is ridiculous, because… I… And she doesn’t even… And I’m not-”

“Not what?” Kate said, wrapping her arms around me. 

“I’m not with her. I probably won’t ever be with her,” I said.

“... You really like her, don’t you?”

“... I’m not sure you want me to answer that question, Katie.”

“You already have,” she said. “It’s kinda obvious.”

“I… I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Kate said, nuzzling my shoulder. “You’re allowed to like more than one person at the same time. And you’ve liked her for a while, I’m not surprised I’m…”

“You’re what?”

“... Second prize.”

 “You’re not,” I said, turning around and putting my hands on her cheeks. “Listen to me, Kate Calloway. I recognize we’ve only just started really getting to know each other, but in that time, you’ve shown yourself to be… Amazing. Caring. Funny and thoughtful. Beautiful. I… I don’t know if I deserve you, but I’d like… To keep seeing you like this. To get to know you better, and to hold your hand while you go on this journey.”

Tears streamed out her eyes, and she bit her lower lip before saying, “Would you… Would you still say that if Faith liked you back?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoffed. “Faith is gay.”

“...”

I blinked. “Faith is gay, right?”

“I…,” Kate stammered, pulling out of my hands. “I’ve said too much.”

I blinked one long, sustained blink as the gears turned in my head. Faith… Wasn’t gay? And she… It… This made it seem like… 

Like she… 

No. 

Just, just… No.

There was a beautiful girl who I liked in front of me, and I wasn’t gonna let her slip away. “You’re fine. And even if she did, it wouldn’t matter.”

“You… You really mean that?”

“She’s not here with me right now, on this beach, sharing this meal, this evening,” I said. “Life moves forward, not back. If Faith really liked me, she should have said something. You, though, you said something. You made the first move, and… God, I’ve had to do that myself so many times, only for it to fall apart. Do you have any idea how good it makes me feel, that you like me enough to be the one to push things forward? How special that makes me feel? Because it’s amazing… You make me feel… Amazing, Kate.”

She looked at me with those big blue eyes, shining in the multicolored light of dusk as the sun set over the horizon, her red lips spread wide, hope and astonishment and joy radiating out of every inch of her. She gulped, and then she grabbed my lapel and said, “I’m gonna push things forward again now. Is that okay?” 

I didn’t answer. I just went for it, pressing her lips against mine, melting into her as we made out on the beach while the sun finished setting. My heart was alight with ecstasy, my lust burning at maximum temperature. I didn’t know for sure if I liked her more than I liked Faith. I just knew that in that moment, there was nobody I’d rather be with, nobody I’d rather be kissing, nobody I’d rather be getting to know.

For just one moment, everything was crystal clear. 

“You really had to ask?” I said as I pressed my forehead against hers, reveling in her aftertaste.

She smiled. Oh, Lord, that smile. “I just had to make sure.”

We carried on like that for a while longer, her hands touching mine, my lips touching hers, our bodies interlocking.

[dozing-marshmallow]

Hey pooks, how was your day? Hope it was good!! I was wanting to ask if you can do an Ezekiel x jealous Yandere gf? Like she has the personality of Alice Liddel (from Alice Madness returns) please and thank you!!

Drink lots and eat healthy

-Yandere Anon

Hello! <3 my day has been great, thank you so much for asking and for your generous reminder to stay well! I hope you‘re having a marvellous day yourself and you too are taking care of yourself. 

Thank you for the request!💜

EZEKIEL X JEALOUS! YANDERE! GIRLFRIEND! READER HEADCANONS

You had grown up with Ezekiel and done all things you could imagine living in the country with him- rolly polly down the hill, tie a worn out tire to a tree, play hide and seek, raise bunnies together!

With no existing blood ties of your own, it was a delight to be welcomed by the Miller family and share the goods you grew.

Example, Ezekiel’s family was responsible for the eggs, milk and wool, you were responsible for reaping vegetables and fruits.

Such as now, where you had circled around your field margins, with fragile hands clasping onto every matured berry, every ripened crop, every fallen apple, into your weaved basket.

“Yooo (Y/N)!”

It was meant to be midday, yet here Ezekiel was, out of his homeschooling lessons to be out on your field.

Could it have been bunking or a mini holiday? Either way, you don’t complain; a smile instantaneously capers on your lips as you rush out from your hedgerows to greet him,“Ezekiel, hello! Hello hello, my love!” you see he is just as happy as you, which is quite rare!,“Say, what’s gotten you so happy today? Is it because of me? You’re happy because of me, aren’t you? Aren’t you? Aren’t you?”

“That’s a given yo.” your heart flies like a feather,“Guess this! Zeeke’s got it in the gaaame! I’m gonna be on tv and rock itt!”

Your eyes widened. Ezekiel? On TV?! He’s gonna be famous!?

“Yep!” he nods, picking up one of the apples from your basket,“That new reality show Total Drama something is gonna be my starting point in the world of awesomeness!”

“...A reality show? Total Drama?” your enthusiasm sucked away, killed like the flowers you plucked from the bush.

Ezekiel was planning on going on a reality show for some time and he didn’t tell you? Why didn’t he tell you? Is there something he’s hiding from you? Is there someone he doesn’t want you to know?,“Who else is gonna be there?”

“Dunno.” he shrugs, taking a clean bite of the apple that wore a crown of water droplets,“Twenty one other dudes that’ll I only know when I get there.”

“...Can I come with you?” it was a risky question, but who said the chances were completely zero?

He spits out a seed to the side,“Sorry holmes,” your heart stung,“I don’t think it’s possible. Unless you sent something in, they won’t let you on, know what I’m saying?”

“...Okay.” That’s fine, right? I mean, it is just for a show, right? A show without you. Where he’d be surrounded by different people every single day. Different girls, different guys... Could it be possible for any of them to overthrow your placement in his life in that time? No... Ezekiel wouldn’t get over you that quickly. It’s not possible for him to find someone else he likes he does you, right? So soon? It’ll be fine, won’t it?,“Um... How long will you be gone for?”

“Eh, probably the whole summer.” he said like it was no big deal.

W-Whole summer?!

“You can’t! Not for the whole summer!” Dropping your basket to cage his being in your suffocation, you screech,“You'd no sooner tell me you want to break up! Break me up...  Do you not know how much I need you...? Without you, I have nothing holding me back from ripping my hair out of my scalp to bear the loneliness... Don't go... Don't go..."

Ezekiel was used to these outbursts, so he let you replace your scent with his for a little longer in the windy silence before he assures,"Chiiiiill bird, you know I’m not gonna break up with you. It’s just one summer eh? It’s not forever.” after you let him stand on his own, he begins to bend down by your feet to restore the fruits that had bounced out of the basket back in,“Besides, if we’re gonna move to a better place, I’m gonna need to win the money for you and me. I finally get to be a man providing for the missus!”

“That’s true...” you knew Ezekiel’s parents had tried their best to give him the best traditional homeschool a kid could know, so one day, he could go to the city- The possibilities of work were very scanty here and the transport system wasn’t the best... It takes hours just to get to the nearest supermarket. All the more work on you to grow your own food... Not to mention, everyday with him was already like a summer day,“I don’t care where we live. We could live up on a tree or under a bridge. As long as you’re with me, I’m happy. I’m complete. Who knew every word that comes out of your mouth could be as nourishing as food?”

“You know no other gal could be as cool as you are.” he stands up again,”I’m always gonna have space for ya riiight here.” there he lays his hands on his chest.

His comment had tranced you into giggles, and fingers into fiddling with your apron. An urgent need to get that old junk of channels and screen working again smothers your thoughts,“...Tell me more about this show.” you have to make aware of your rivals.

It’s been a whole year and Ezekiel’s teacup was still full.

In spite of that, you had kept pouring his portion of tea. Your tablecloth was wet, dripping to the floor with the substance that was once so warm.

Don’t panic (Y/N). There’s no way Ezekiel would run away from you. That’s not Ezekiel. You know Ezekiel, you love Ezekiel!

So...why isn’t he here-

You had thought if you kept doing the things you did, he would come back.

Who stole you away from me?

You stand up from your chair. The grandfather’s clock chimed its ancient cry.

Were you at home this entire time? If so, why wouldn’t you tell me? Who has been keeping you busy?

Nobody, it would seem.

His parents were just as troubled as you were.

“You mean... He hasn’t come back at all?” While you didn’t go inside, from the corner of your eye, you had caught something damning on their dinner table.

Are those...missing posters?

They’re missing posters... 

Ezekiel’s face is all over them.

You walk back to your cottage with a heavier mind.

...

Ezekiel didn’t elope.

Something had happened.

Something savage.

Something irreversible.

You clash the walls of your teeth against each other and your neck went dry.

What did you do to my baby?

He had taken away the one thing that made getting out of bed worth it everyday.

The thing that composed a smooth life.

The thing that made blood have a sweeter colour.

Stepping out of the dinghy, you scrape your shovel across the collapsing floorboards of the dock.

I’m here, you smiling bastard. Ready or not, here I come.

[wheredidalltheusersgo]

The Stranded and The Scaly

Chapter 5 Day 4: The Attack

Content warnings for chapter: Blood, general violence

------

Geoff dashed through the forest in pursuit of the thing that had stolen his duffel bag.

He pushed branches and leaves out of his way as he ran, wincing as the branches scraped at his skin. They wouldn't leave a wound deeper than a scratch, though. It wasn't like the trees were alive and deliberately trying to hurt him, anyway.

He tried his hardest to stay on the beast's trail, but he was losing stamina.

Through trees and bushes they ran, over rocks and fallen logs they leaped, but Geoff wasn't getting any closer to the creature. He couldn't make out exactly what the thing was, anyways. It was a mash of different animals, a freaky little bastard of a thief.

When he happened to step in a puddle of murky green-brown water, Geoff realized just how far he was from his campsite.

As he looked around at the area he was in, he realized that it was a swamp. A potentially dangerous swamp.

He looked across the pond of nasty-looking water and spotted his bag under a tree, the beast dropped it! Now, he just needed a way to cross the larger body of water. A couple of flat-topped stones jutted up from the surface of the water, perfect! He knew how to work with stepping stones!

He took a few steps back before running forwards and leaping onto the closest stepping stone.

He wobbled a bit in place before regaining his balance and leaping to the next stone.

All he had to do was not fall in! He glanced at the next "stone" in his path... except it looked more like a moldy log?

Nevertheless, he took the jump and stood on the "log".

....did he just hear a growl? Did the log just MOVE?!

Geoff struggled to keep his balance as the thing he was standing on began to rise out of the water.

Before he could leap off, he was grabbed by a large, sickly green tentacle. He gasped in shock as the creature rose fully out of the water and glared at him with piercing amber eyes.

It was a mutant alligator?!?!

"Woah, woah! Nice gator.... didn't mean to tread on you! Please let me go?..." he spoke in an attempt to soothe the giant beast.

Geoff only had a split second to catch his breath before the monstrous alligator used it's slimy appendage to slam him onto the ground.

He propped himself up with one arm as he desperately tried to regain the air that the gator had knocked out of his lungs. After only a few gasps, he felt a searing pain in his right leg as the gator sunk it's teeth into his flesh. He hissed in pain, was he going to die here after all?! Was he going to become gator chow?! He hadn't even gotten to celebrate his 18th birthday yet!!..

The gator lifted him off the ground by his leg and swung him around like a ragdoll before throwing him directly into a tree.

Geoff's cries of agony echoed through the swamp as his body made contact with the tree.

He fell to the ground in a heap and sobbed from the stinging, burning sensation in his right leg and the harsh ache in his back from the impact with the tree.

Everything was blurry and slow, he could only make out the deep, bloody wound on his leg and the faint figure of the mutant gator coming to finish him off.

He shut his eyes and was ready to accept his fate when something leaped out of the trees and latched onto the alligator's snout.

Geoff couldn't quite make out what the figure was doing, but it seemed to be attacking the beast!

The figure clawed wildly at the alligator's snout and eyes as the beast snarled in pain.

Geoff could only watch, he was too dazed with pain to do anything else.

After a series of scratching, screeching, and hissing from the blurry figure in a display of dominance, the alligator retreated into the water.

The figure began to approach Geoff, and as it got closer, he found that he could begin to make out more of what the figure really looked like. It was.... humanoid?

It wasn't long before Geoff was met with a familiar face, it was Ezekiel!

"Eze...Ezekiel?... Zeke?...Homeschool?... is that you?.." Geoff smiled weakly as he spoke. Ezekiel's eyes widened as he grunted in response. "Boy, am I glad to see you!..." Geoff let out a breathy chuckle. "I've been so lonely on this damn island... I'm so happy you're here!...." Ezekiel's brows furrowed in worry at Geoff's tone, but that feeling quickly turned to alarm once he took a glance at Geoff's leg.

Noticing Ezekiel's alarm, Geoff spoke up again. "Oh, that.... it's probably nothing... is it getting hot here, or is it just me?... I'm sweating!... heh...." It wasn't hot, Geoff was burning up, he was growing feverish.

"Are the others here?.. Did they remember me?... Please stay with me, you know I hate being alone, Zeke...... " Geoff trailed off as he slipped from consciousness.

------

[art-of-the-creative-mind]

Chapter 1: Total Drama Drama Drama Drama Island

[With the competition over and someone winning the money, the campers are ready to head home, but will they get the opportunity to? The host has one final challenge for all the contestants, forcing them to form their own respective teams and participate in an all-out, no-rule hunt for one million dollars! But wait, what happened to the camera crew?]

[Is that screaming?]

Inspired by Island of the Slaughter by @eavee-ry

“All right, campers. The ultimate million dollar challenge starts… now!” Chris announces with the bang of a cork gun.

As the teens bicker and set off in their own teams in the search of the new and improved cash prize, Chris and Chef sit on the patio of Playa Des Loser watching the contestants on silver screens. Nothing was ever as endlessly entertaining as their [ex] campers fighting for their lives. However 2 hours in, it was starting to really drag.

“They seem like they’re having fun. Too bad, it’s boring.” The host extended his arm for a refill, he’d been cutting back after some… unfortunate tabloid stories about his ‘vices’ had gotten him some flack. But a whole twelve minutes without the help refilling his drink? It was flat out unacceptable. Turning around there didn’t seem to be any interns to yell at anyway, and he was way too comfortable to get up at this point. Still the kids walked circles around each other and it was starting to grate on him how static the angles were, no wide pans, no following shots, no zooms, just the stationary cameras cutting together footage once their proximity sensors picked up movement.

Okay, maybe he didn’t need another drink. He was a mean drunk, and nitpicking every detail about his show was just what the vultures wanted to see in another ‘Chris McLean on set freakout’ video. Instead, he picked up the microphone.

“Okay, this is pathetic, campers! It’s been two hours now and no one has even come close to finding this suitcase! So here’s your first clue. It’s just hangin’ around!”

The voice boomed over a speaker out to the contestants on the island. Or at least the ones close to camp. Wawanakwa was a huge land mass in reality, and when Chris told them to go off and explore they took that to heart.

-

Justin could just make out Chris’ voice above Katie and Sadie’s incessant chatter. He shouldn’t have agreed to team up with them, he should’ve expected this, but they were easy targets. Only, maybe too easy.

“And I had to come in and drag you out!” One of them squealed.

He desperately panned around for some way he could get them off his back.

“It was the first time I had ever seen a urinal!” The other screeched.

Perfect.

“Okay, you know what?! Heh. I really, really have to go to the bathroom. Um, why don’t you two go and wait in the cave so I can have some privacy?”

They seemed impressed by his chivalry. Anything to get them off his back.

-

Courtney was back in her groove, she had Duncan wrapped around her finger, another chance at the money and she was sure it would be hers this time around. Only problem was…

They were lost, hopelessly lost.

In fact, she had never even seen this part of the island before and the cameras were getting sparse as the two walked deeper.

She could almost make out the crackling of a loud speaker going off in the distance, but maybe she was making things up.

-

Heather had been desperate, but Harold? That was the wrong choice. She realized when she first agreed to ally with him. And now, she had a headache.

To be fair, she’s had a headache since she was eliminated. I mean, how many people have lost their hair and $100,000 all at once? Now she had another chance, but as he droned on and on she couldn’t help but wonder.

Is this really worth it?

-

Lindsay and Beth had insisted on staying near camp, probably for the best, it kept them able to hear the announcements and Ezekiel, though he would never admit it, was deathly afraid of the dark and the daylight couldn’t last too much longer.

Chris’ voice boomed from somewhere to his left, a clue. Something about hanging around? Zeke took the chance to look up, dwarfed by the pines above them, and saw it. It was a good bit away from them, but the briefcase was just there.

“Hey, uh, guys?”

Beth turned around to glare at him. “Shh. Give us a little girl time here?” Zeke had really been trying to, they’d barely even acknowledged him. He was glad they’d even let him on their team, but ignoring him was getting old fast.

“But isn’t that-“

She had already gone back to Lindsay. Maybe if he just walked away to get the case they wouldn’t notice. He could be the perfect sleeper win. First out wins the million, what a great storyline!

He walked just off the path into a part of the forest littered with bramble and shrubs. The case wasn’t too high off the ground, maybe 6 or so feet, if he got right under it he could probably jump just enough to grab it. But just as he stepped into position.

Snap

-

Chris could’ve sworn they left the case on the path, somewhere easy to find. The challenge was supposed to be more focused on them fighting, it wasn’t just some juvenile scavenger hunt. He huffed, leaning back in frustration.

Chef was uncharacteristically quiet, he seemed glued to the screens.

“Finally one of those damn interns picked up the camera.” Chef could always read Chris’ mind, truly it was a miracle, “We need to get them more training, this one’s all shaky!”

The camera followed as Ezekiel neared the money, Chris swears he can hear the breathing as the camera moves in. Damn, Chef was right, he would probably just fire the kid once the episode was over. Along with whoever was supposed to be filling his drinks.

This was weird, the case was too low, the tree was too far into the forest, and those shrubs were too thick. But maybe he was overreacting.

“Uhh Chef?” Chris felt it, the pit in his stomach was welling up. “Did you move the money after I finished setting it up?”

Maybe it was the silver glint of something in the bramble.

Snap

-

A scream breaks through the air as he falls over. It’s clear Ezekiel has no idea what’s just happened, as he immediately goes into hysterics.

The camera closes in on him, dropping to where he riles in pain on the forest floor. Zeke, between yelps of pain and shallow forced breaths, opens his eyes to see a camera pointed directly in his face. He visibly stills. Then his eyes slowly track up to somewhere above him.

As he opens his mouth to scream, the cameras across the island go out.

[noisycatstephanie]

I know OCs aren’t’t much of a thing in the Good Omens fandom, but I made one and she makes me happy and my kids love her so much.

I was wondering who Aziraphale was talking to when someone called his bookshop and cussed on the other end of the phone. I also thought about how Shax says she is the Hell representation for *London* (not Earth) and how at the Flood Aziraphale wasn’t sure if God was angry with the Americans, or Chinese, or Australians. Because he isn’t in charge of those regions. So, by that logic there has to be other representatives in other regions, right?

So, meet Baphomet aka Mattie. She is a deal maker demon, but she doesn’t trade in souls. She just makes barters, deals, exchanges and sales and along the way tries to stir up trouble. She will deal with anyone, and knows about other representatives (for example, she often deals in procuring and asking for books for AZ Fell’s bookshop).

Mattie runs a convenience store in the Midwest somewhere (probably Ohio). She actually loves her job because even if she gets a bad customer she can muck up their day and feel satisfied.

Mattie doesn’t plan ahead and she leans heavily into staying cool no matter what, while somehow also screeching at people constantly. She is sarcastic and cynical and not extremely bright.

Her angel counterpart is Ezekiel aka Zeke. He co owns the store but doesn’t actually do anything other than stop by to harass Mattie, often lecturing her about her swearing and whatever hijinks she is up to. They wouldn’t call each other friends, of course. But Zeke has been known to to sternly threaten criminals who are caught trying to rob the store, and Mattie has been known to kick people if they upset Zeke or offend him. So not friends, more like protective business associates.

Mattie is short, with greasy, dirty blonde hair and blue eyes with slitted pupils (everyone thinks they’re cosplay lenses). She wears 90’s grunge fashion: band tshirts, flannel over shirt, ripped jeans, and hightop shoes. She always wears a knitted cap with ear flaps, even in summer. This hides the large scar that circles both ears, from a punishment she endured in Hell.

I plan on making a fun little comic showing the day to day life of Mattie. Her only connection to the Apocalypse was being asked to deliver the antiChrist, but she refused because she can’t stand being nauseous.

Here’s a ton of sketches!

[wildercrow]

Gaze In Wonder by Nuri (SpicyIsopods)

Another fall/spooky prompt! This one is "the eyes are staring back at me." And unlike the last few, there is like… zero angst here. Just Morrigan and Kieran being cute.

Also, if anyone would like a visual, the spider in this fic is a male purple-gold jumping spider (link contains spider photos obviously)!

---

Rating: General Characters: Morrigan, Kieran Relationships: Morrigan & Kieran Genre: Fluff Words: 504 Content Warnings: Prolonged focus on a (cute and friendly) spider, Pretty significant Dragon Age Origins & Inquisition spoilers AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50618275 Fic:

“Look, Mother, another spider!” Kieran declares gleefully, pointing at the trunk of a tree on the outskirts of their campsite.

“Is that so?” Morrigan says, ambling over with a fond chuckle. “What kind have you found this time?”

“A jumping spider, like the last one. But this one is purple!”

Morrigan crouches down and peers over her son’s shoulder and sees that he has indeed found a rather spectacular purple and gold jumping spider. “’Twould appear that you are correct. You have quite an eye for spiders.”

He puffs up his chest with pride at the praise. “I like them very much! And moths.”

“So I have gathered.” Morrigan laughs. It’s a chime of genuine chime of affection and joy that she reserves for children and occasionally (if no one is listening) her partner, Ezekiel. Nothing at all like the sarcastic laugh the rest of the world hears.

“Do you think he’ll let me hold him?” Kieran asks, looking imploringly back at his mother.

“I don’t know,” she replies. “That is entirely up to him. But you are welcome to try. He poses no threat to you – the worst his bite can do is make you itch a bit. Not that he is likely to bite in the first place. Why don’t you hold your hand out and see if he deigns to climb upon it? Remember, quiet and slow or you will frighten him away.”

Keiran does as instructed, holding fingertips to the bark of the tree just below the spider. He waits there for what seems like an eternity – long enough that Morrigan’s back threatens to give out and she has to slowly lower herself into a sitting position – but eventually the little creature decides that the hand that has appeared below him is likely benign and takes a few cautious steps forward.

Kieran gasps with delight as the spider touches his fingertip with one miniscule paw, then another, then finally determines that this mysterious new surface is not here to eat him and climbs fully onto the child’s outstretched hand. “He’s beautiful,” he says, voice full of awe.

Morrigan can’t help but smile. Losing the soul of Urthemiel had done nothing to deter the boy’s love of beautiful things.

After a long moment of watching the spider, he giggles. “His eyes are staring back at me!”

“Jumping spiders are quite visual creatures, as far as spiders go,” Morrigan confirms. “’Tis difficult to determine whether it is you he is watching or something else in your general direction, but you are correct that he always seems to be watching something.”

“I love jumping spid—AH!” He screeches and falls backwards into Morrigan’s lap as the little creature springs out of his hand and past his head, disappearing into the underbrush. “He startled me! But I still love jumping spiders.”

He descends into hysterical giggles and is quickly joined by his mother, who wraps him in her arms and rocks side to side with him as they laugh together on the forest floor.

[zaenight]

Crazy but she's mine ch8

"Ez wake up!" Jackie said wacking him with a pillow.

"¿qué? ¿Por qué sientes la necesidad de pegarme cada mañana?" Ez questioned falling back to sleep.

(what? why do you feel the need to hit me every morning?)

"Because its my favorite thing to do,Now WAKE UP!" Jackie said wacking him again.

"Querida, you'll be the death of me,were's Illiana?" Ez questioned stretching.

"With Natalie, she plans to sleepover." Jackie answered.

Suddenly they heard the door open and a two voices in the living room.

"Yo Jackie!, Me and Gilly are here!" Angel exclaimed.

Ez raised a brow,as if asking why they were here.

"We're gonna have a bbq,now c'mon!" She exclaimed.

-----

"Hank had family buisness,Creeper is getting the meat,and your gonna see our Pops again." Angel said drinking his beer.

"Shame he closed down his shop." Jackie said.

"You could come back and work at the bar,your barista skills are amazing." Creeper said,unloading the meat from his car.

"And see Bishop everday?No thanks." Jackie said as Felipe came out of his car.

Jackie then started a conversation with Felipe,

the two catching up as if

they were old friends.

"Oh I invited Letty , She was my Bestfriend's kid, I kinda look after her now,also his old lady Hope." Gilly told them.

"Finally meeting more girls, Illiana's at a sleepover , imagine being stuck with  Ez." Jackie said as she stuck her tongue out at Ez.

"Im offended querida , I think you like my company , you just don't wanna admit it." Ez said smirking.

"Nope!" Jackie exclaimed.

Felipe sat back and watched ,

this was the girl his son had fallen for, and he couldn't have been any happier.

----------

Felipe decided to go home after a while,Letty and Hope finally showed up,the three woman hitting it off.

Jackie offered her condolences after hearing what happened to Coco.

"So?, Was Ez always like this?" Jackie questioned glancing at the man, who was put in a headlock by his brother.

"Pretty much , I mean he was a bit dark when he first became President , but after meeting you and Illiana , he got his act straight, him and angel even made up." Letty explained as Hope nodded in agreement.

"Him and Angel usually get into it?" Jackie asked.

"Sometimes we guess, club shit or brother shit." Hope said shrugging , her and Letty didn't know much.

"Yeah o- Oh hell no!" Jackie exclaimed Quietly as she Glanced over to the guys.

Six girls wearing barely anything were near them , Angel,Gilly,And Creeper were

laughing with them, But Ez looked a bit uncomfy , glancing towards her.

"I'll be back ladies." Jackie said going over to them , wrapping her arm around Ez.

"Back off!" Jackie exclaimed to the Blonde girl.

"Who the hell are you? , Ez come on baby what happened we used to have so much fun!" The girl said blowing her off.

Not on her watch.

"Im his old lady , now back off before my fist goes in your face!, If he wanted you he would've had you by now,

but by the looks of you,he probably grew tired." Jackie said.

"I mean seriously,even I wouldn't tap that, What were you thinking Ez." Jackie said giving him a look.

Ez shrugged pulling her closer , and for some fucking reason , she didn't push him away.

"But Ez we were-" The girl started until she gasped.

Jackie pulled Ez into a kiss,looking right at her , asserting her dominance , saying this might not be my man , but he is MY man.

"Girls lets go NOW!" the blonde screeched as her goons followed after,The boys whooping,and Letty and Hope screaming that they better run.

"Thought you said you weren't my Old lady?" Ez questioned with a smirk,resting his forhead on hers.

"Im not , You know how you said no one was ever gonna have me,because I belong to you? well jokes on you, because everytime a chick comes up to you Imma be there,making your life hell." Jackie started.

"You may be the Boss Ezekiel,but your no king , no, your in my kingdom now , you belong to me , face it Ez your my bitch now!" Jackie whispered , her arms still around his neck.

"I think I can live with that mi reina." Ez said as he gave her a smile.

(my queen)

--------

Also available on A03 : Zae_night

[arkhamcalamity]

“💭“ //ohhh imma regret this but hit me

A peek into Amity's memories // Accepting!! @bxrningblack secretly loves my pain i know it but i did accidentally write a novel again. Also, did I shamelessly connect my muses? yes, i'm not sorry. I can put @merciedblood in this mess bc i wanted to

Something was horribly wrong. 

It’s in the silence so still that all that registered was her own panting. After hours of her own yelling and cursing through labor, it shouldn’t be this quiet. It’s haunting. A minute ago, she would have thought herself too exhausted to manage any more noise, but this sickening silence choked up a concerned whine as she tried to push herself up to see. Bad idea, dizziness almost immediately put her back onto the pillows, arguing with the surging adrenaline.

“What’s wrong?” Something was. Faintly, she recalled the good midwife going a few shades paler in the last third of her pushing. Alienor gripping her hand tighter around then too. They knew something was wrong. Why else would Althea take her Beatrix so swiftly to the table? More panicked, Amity pushed back against Alienor’s attempt to keep her lying back on the bed. 

“Let me see her! Why won’t she cry?” And she could hear Alienor talking softly, briefly catching ‘neck’, ‘tangled’ but it’s all mumbled in a thunderous roar of adrenaline and blood in her head.  She had to be okay. She had to be okay. Regardless of how she was made, Amity wanted her. No matter the consequence. ‘Wedlock will have a high price, no matter how it happened,’ Ezekiel's warning echoed faintly, pushed out by the louder wishes. No, no, no, not this price.

“Thea, don’t let her die,” she sobbed into Alienor’s arm. Please, please, please. She can’t bear it if there’s nothing to come out of all this. If it all was for nothing, if there’s nothing for her to cling to in the aftermath of months worth of tears and rage. 

There's a minute, then two; stretching what felt like eons. Just silence in a room of unspoken hopes and prayers; until there was a cough and a piercing screech from the youngest Arkham. If relief could be tangible, it would have drowned them all. 

“There we go,” Althea cooed, swiftly wrapping the baby up to bring over to Amity’s outstretched arms.  "Hello, Beatrix," Amity whispered, almost laughing in relief. Perfect. She’s perfect, beautiful, everything Amity wanted and more. With her own silver light hair and wide eyes, it almost seemed like Beatrix wasn't anything but her mother. Amity let her new daughter suck on the curled knuckle of her pinkie and make happier, gurgling sounds. Alienor chuckled and placed a proud kiss on the top of Amity's head.

And for a couple minutes it's perfect. Exhausted, covered in mess, and perfect. Reality though always did have a way of ruining perfection.

Cleaning up a bit after helping with the afterbirth, Althea nervously bit on her lip.

“Amity,” Althea started softly, “we need to talk about her. You’ve been putting it off, I know you don’t want to b-”  “They can’t have her,” she injected sternly, gripping Beatrix closer to her chest. “She’s mine.”  “You didn’t talk about what happened, and I understand why but they won’t just let all this pass, you have to know that. They’d never just let you and Alienor take her. If she’s a Cobbl-”  “She’s mine!” Anyone’s guess if she was talking about Beatrix or Alienor. “Ezekiel would never let them.”  “The court,” Althea pleaded, trying to get her to see any sort of reason or reality they were facing. “They won’t care Ezekiel is one of them, it’s not enough. If they think she’s like you, like me-”  “No! That’s final! I won’t let them take her, or hurt her. We don’t even know if she’s gifted!” For all they knew, Beatrix was normal! "I'm not marrying off, and I want to keep her. She's. Mine." Ezekiel could get them to see that...

....Right?

[kaiju-wolfdragon-the-rp]

Nigel and ricky: *got blasted* *screech* *flies away*

Nigel: we might be injured but we'll be back!

Ricky: shut up! *bonks his head*

Nigel: ow..

Giant dragon Ezekiel: whew... Looks like they didn't see me...

Pov:

You found giant crystal foot prints from a giant mysterious dragon

[theteasetwrites]

The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning

Chapter 88: Dead Man's Party

❧ Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female Reader ❧ Era: Season 11 ❧ Pronouns: she/her ❧ Warnings: swearing ❧ Word Count: 4.7k (wow this is the shortest chapter I've done in ages lol)

❧ In This Chapter: Halloween comes to the Commonwealth, but everything is just a little too good to be true.

❧ A/N: Sorry this came out so late today! I've been really stressed with my two jobs and everything so I didn't have time to write this ahead of time, but it's here! And yes, it's a little shorter than the other chapters as of late but idk sometimes some chapters are shorter/longer than others. Basically I'm just here for the fluff, and we have a little plot in here with the masquerade ball stuff but we all know how that goes so I didn't go into too much detail with it. At least we get to see Robin petting bunnies.

It was mirth like you’d never seen before, not even when you were a child.

In the middle of downtown, hoards of costumed children played carnival games and scarfed down colorful cookies and candies the likes of which the children of Alexandria had never seen before.

Parents followed around their sugar-crazed children like they were chasing chickens, and real chickens clucked and goats bleated as tiny hands fought for the chance to pet the fascinating farm animals.

Robin Dixon waited patiently, but nervously, standing by you as she tried and failed to get through the crowd of other children, pushing each other out of the way and letting out ear-piercing screeches as children were wont to do for some reason.

You peered your head intently over the crowd, looking for an opening for the soft-spoken child to get a view of the alpaca.

“Hey,” you said, holding onto her shoulders and gently ushering the girl forward, “I see a spot. Go on, Robin.”

She looked up at you with a worried furrowed brow, and shook her head just before a much larger boy pushed past her, causing her to stumble backwards and fall onto the hay-covered concrete.

“Hey!” you called out to the rude child, but he’d already made his way to the front of the crowd, pushing past several other children in his wake. You quickly turned your attention back to Robin, huffing and rubbing her eyes as she lifted herself up. “You okay, baby?” you asked as you kneeled beside her, brushing the dirt off her forest green tattered shirt.

All you could do was thank God Daryl was taking the Grimes children through the haunted house, because if he had seen that boy push Robin to the ground, whether it was an accident or not, he’d find that little shit’s parents and rip them a new one for raising such a monster who would dare hurt his little angel.

“Yeah,” she huffed, adjusting her pointy green felt hat you’d hand-sewn for her admittedly somewhat scrappy Robin Hood costume, but she looked utterly adorable, if you were to say so yourself. “Let’s go.”

You furrowed your brow. “But we just got here,” you said, gesturing around you to the tiny petting zoo, separated from the rest of the festival by a bright white picket fence. “And I thought you wanted to see the animals.”

She shrugged and wiped harder at her pouting face, and you could just tell she was trying not to cry. The poor thing had the misfortune of inheriting both yours and Daryl’s distinct brands of intense sensitivity.

“I do, but…”

“Too many people?” you asked, knowing she often preferred the company of animals to that of people she didn’t know very well.

She nodded in affirmation, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar figure—the long, grey dreadlocks of one King Ezekiel setting out a cage of rabbits atop a bale of hay.

Robin had been particularly excited to see the rabbits, of course, and since you were dressed like one, you simply had to draw her attention to it.

“Hey,” you said, directing her gaze towards the cage where Ezekiel was just beginning to gently take out a large brown cottontail, “there’s King Ezekiel.”

Robin’s eyes widened, but not at the presence of His Majesty. “Rabbits!” she gasped, and looked back to you with the sheer wonderment only a child could possess. “Can we see the bunnies?”

“Yes,” you laughed, and the rather weak child tugged firmly at your hand, dragging you to the rabbits.

Ezekiel, always great around children, and knowledgeable of the youngest Dixon’s fascination and appreciation for animals, especially rabbits, put on a bright, ecstatic face for the girl. Of course, her being dressed as Robin Hood and the reputation he had had as “king” was not lost on him.

“Well, well, well,” he said. “If it isn’t brave Robin Hood. What brings you to this part of Sherwood Forest, milady?”

She shrugged her shoulders and smiled shyly, holding her sturdy child-sized bow (put together rather meticulously from sticks and twine by her father) in her hands. “Rabbits,” she said, nodding her head towards the one nestled in his arms. “Are we allowed to pet them, Ezekiel?”

He raised an eyebrow, now looking at you in your costume—a white sweater dress with matching white tights and a headband with carefully constructed rabbit ears sewn on. Of course, you’d taken the time to allow Robin to paint your face with whiskers and a pink rabbit nose on the tip of your own. Surprisingly, the six-year-old had done a great job.

“Of course you can pet them,” he answered with a bright smile, then turned to gesture towards the empty bale of hay behind him. “Why don’t you sit down and I’ll let you hold Thumper here, okay?”

She nodded eagerly, but looked to you once again for your permission. “Go on,” you laughed, taking her bow and quiver (filled with dull, smaller arrows made with Daryl’s usual craftsmanship) before she sat herself on the bale.

“Now,” said Ezekiel quietly, kneeling down to her level and gently beginning to hand her the shy rabbit, “I know you’re good with animals, red, but I need you to be extra gentle with this one.”

She nodded her head in understanding. Indeed, Robin was always great with animals, which you had to chalk up to good parenting. Ever since Daryl brought Dog home when he was a puppy, you’d both instilled in her the importance of treating animals with respect and kindness, just like human beings.

Too many parents seemed to allow children to be rough with animals, treating them like toys or unfeeling objects, when in reality they were sensitive, vulnerable creatures that needed love and compassion. Well, sure that lesson clashed a little with Daryl’s tendency to bring home animal carcasses for dinner, but Robin was surprisingly quick to come to some understanding of the nuances and grey areas of life, to the extent a child could.

He delicately transferred the soft creature to her hands, then quickly moved her arms to wrap them securely around the animal’s body. “There,” he said, letting Thumper adjust himself atop the little girl’s lap. “See, you’re a natural. Just don’t let him go.”

She let out a giggle and craned her head to get a look at the rabbit’s face as she gently stroked his fur. “He’s so cute,” she said. “What kind of rabbit is he?”

“He’s an eastern cottontail,” he answered, making his way to the cage where another rabbit sat, wiggling its nose and blinking its wide eyes at you curiously (you liked to think it recognized you, since you were, in fact, dressed as a white rabbit). “The most common rabbit species found in North America. Did you know they can run up to eighteen miles per hour?”

“Wow,” gasped Robin, still lovingly caressing the anxious animal. “You’re fast,” she said to Thumper. “You might be faster than Dog… Fast enough to outrun him, Mom.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “I don’t think so,” you said, knowing full well she was trying to convince you to let her get a rabbit, despite Dog’s hunting tendencies. “What about the white one?”

Ezekiel smiled and began wrapping up the white rabbit in his arms. “This is a special one,” he said, walking over to you and letting you stroke the creature’s beautifully soft fur. “A white Vienna named Mirabella. Her parents were rescued from an abandoned breeding facility just after the fall. She’s the last of her litter.”

You happily took the docile rabbit into your hands, sitting yourself down next to Robin as you did.

“She looks just like you,” laughed Robin. “She’s so pretty.”

“Thank you,” you said, and quickly you noticed Robin was simply taken with the white rabbit. “You wanna pet her?”

Robin nodded as she carefully handed Thumper back to Ezekiel. “Yes, please.”

You angled your body until Robin could pet her, and the rabbit seemed particularly calm under her gentle, featherlight touch. “She has blue eyes,” she said. “Do they all have blue eyes?”

“Just the Viennas,” answered Ezekiel. “Aren’t they something? They’ve been selectively bred for so long that they make great pets.”

Robin’s eyes widened as she looked up at you.

“Absolutely not,” you said, though your resistance was crumbling under the child’s wide, blue doe-eyes, and you had to admit, there was a part of you that desperately wanted to have a rabbit again. Ever since you raised them as a child, you adored the creatures. “Your father would throw a fit.”

Ezekiel laughed. “Well, I’m afraid this one’s not up for adoption anyway, Robin Hood. Even if she was, she’s pregnant.”

You furrowed your brows and immediately began inspecting the rabbit, trying to figure out if she had a noticeable belly. “Really?”

“Oh, she really is like you, Mommy,” said Robin.

You narrowed your eyes in mock offense at her, and broke out into a wide smile when Ezekiel leaned over to feed Mirabella a baby carrot. “Who's the father?” you asked curiously.

“Thumper,” laughed Ezekiel as he pet the much more skittish, wild looking rabbit. “Can you believe it? We leave them alone for one minute and, well, you know. It’ll be an interesting mix, that’s for sure. Hey, she’ll give birth in a few weeks, why don’t you stop by and see the kits when they’re born?”

“I’d love to,” said Robin.

“And, uh… if Mom and Dad are okay with it,” he said, “maybe we could see about allowing one for adoption?”

You huffed and shook your head. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Oh, please, Mommy? Daddy could train Dog not to eat it.”

There was that look again, the one you found rather hard to resist, but you were determined to maintain motherly order, within limits. “We’ll see,” you said. “When the babies are born.”

From the distance, you noticed Daryl and the Grimes children emerging from the haunted house, and in turn, Daryl spotted you and Robin at the petting zoo just before sending Judith and RJ off to play games.

“What’s all this?” he asked, gesturing to the white rabbit in your lap that Robin was petting.

“This is Mirabella,” said Robin. “She’s a white Vienna. Isn’t she pretty?”

Daryl tilted his head and scratched his chin. “Looks like dinner,” he said. You were sure it was another one of his “dad jokes,” but a part of you wondered if he was half serious.

Ezekiel let out a laugh, but Robin was less amused. “Don’t say that,” she said seriously, though the intensity in her disproportionately high-pitched, girlish voice was rather adorably amusing. “She’s pregnant.”

“Ezekiel says they might let us adopt one of the babies,” you said, subtly displaying your own doe eyes to convince him.

“Pfft,” he scoffed, shaking his head halfheartedly at Ezekiel. “Got enough babies.”

Not long after that, the long-awaited arrival of the governor of the Commonwealth, Pamela Milton, finally came, and you saw her for the first time.

Well, the first time since before the world ended. Her father was also a president back in the day, so naturally, she was in the spotlight, and all you really remembered was that your mother voted for her dad, so naturally you didn’t.

All you cared about now, though, was the selection of the winners of the costume contest, which Robin had signed herself up for.

You gently pushed her forward to stand in line with the other children, and fixed her costume one last time to make sure it was as pristine as possible, given the fact that you’d found some of the accessories in the trash.

“Knock ‘em dead,” you told her before kissing her cheek. “You’ve got the best costume here, sweet pea, no matter what anyone says.”

Daryl patted her back and leaned down to kiss her cheek, too, and now she looked a little embarrassed at all the attention she was getting in front of the other children.

“Dad…” she huffed, and Daryl’s face soured as it usually did when she called him the much more adult sounding “dad.”

“Good luck,” he said, and made his own adjustments to her costume as he pulled an arrow from her quiver and aligned it in her other hand with her bow. “There ya go. You look great.”

“Thanks,” she said, and Daryl reluctantly stepped back to stand with you watch as Pamela Milton, in all her perfectly polished pomp, walked down the line, inspecting each child’s costume with a sharp eye.

When she got to Robin, your heart stopped a little, as you knew how much Robin wanted to win the costume contest.

You were within earshot of Pamela, so when she uttered the phrase, “Robin Hood… How quaint,” with a condescending laugh as she handed her a stick of cotton candy, surely as a consolation prize, you huffed and felt your muscles tighten in slight offense.

“Gimme the strength,” muttered Daryl under his breath.

Sure enough, Robin’s costume didn’t place, and first prize went to a girl dressed in a homemade costume emulating Mercer’s Commonwealth Army uniform.

First prize, though, was ten lottery tickets, and although your family was somewhat broke, it was decidedly a rather disappointing prize, and somewhat insulting that Milton thought the chance of winning money was a good enough prize.

Nevertheless, you clapped with somewhat sarcastic enthusiasm after the contest ended, and Pamela retreated back into the municipal building where she could once again be away from the masses, blissfully unaware, or simply uninterested, of the poverty and inequality in her perfect little world.

Perhaps you should’ve known a costume of a character whose values centered around stealing from the rich and giving to the poor wasn’t going to be very impressive to the wealthy politician who profited immensely off the capitalistic system she seemed to be running.

“God, she’s devastated,” you said to Daryl, watching Robin lumber towards you with slumped shoulders and a pink fluff of cotton candy on her stick. “Poor thing.”

She unstrapped her quiver and handed her bow and arrow to Daryl. “Can we go home?” she asked.

Despite how happy she’d seemed the rest of the day, the costume contest must’ve gotten her down, and Daryl had to go home to get ready for work soon anyway, so he walked her back home, and attempted to soothe the sulking child’s sadness.

“You had the best costume there, peanut,” he said. “Just ‘cause you didn’t win don’t mean it wasn’t the best.”

“I wanted to win first place,” she said, and after a while of silence, she spoke again, more quietly this time. “I wanted to win that prize.”

He furrowed his brow and looked down at her curiously. “Lottery tickets? Nah, that’s a lame prize anyway. Least you got some cotton candy.” He gestured to the pink cloud of sugar upon a stick in her hands, which she’d been munching on for a while now (Daryl was still nervous for the sugar to take effect).

“It could’ve helped us,” she said. “If we won the money, we move to that apartment and there’d be room for the baby, and—”

Daryl laughed and stopped in his tracks to kneel down and kiss her cheek. “Money’s not important,” he said. “I mean, it’s important here, but in the grand scheme a things, it means nothing.”

He lifted Robin’s arm to show her her own bracelet, the one with DIXON in alphabet beads.

“This is what’s important,” he said. “Family.” He held his own hand to align with hers, and both bracelets seemed so steadfast and sturdy upon their wrists, especially when held together. “So don’t worry about the money thing. ‘Sides, basic training’s gonna be over soon, and we’ll get that apartment. Baby’ll be fine. Everyone will be fine.”

She broke out into a small smile, grateful for her father’s optimism.

“You really think my costume was good?” she asked.

He stood up and shook his head with a chuckle under his breath. “The best.”

As the festival was close to coming to an end, you watched RJ bob for apples and kept a distant eye on Judith as she made friends with another girl named Mei.

Carol came up behind you then, carrying extra cookies that hadn't been sold at the bakery booth.

“How ya feeling?” she asked, looking between your face and your belly.

You smiled and stroked a circle over top the white knit sweater dress covering your abdomen.

“Nauseous,” you answered. “Generally not great, but the bunny costume is helping.”

Carol reached up to adjust your rabbit ears. “You look adorable,” she said. “Where’s Robin Hood? I brought her another Frankenstein cookie.”

You sighed. “She’s a little upset after the costume contest. She really wanted to win I guess. Daryl’s taking her home. Actually, I’ve got to get back there soon before he has to leave for work.”

“Are you two going to the masquerade ball tonight?”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Not invited,” you said. “Besides, that’s only for the most important people in the Commonwealth, right?”

She shrugged and took a bite out of a cookie. “I just thought you’d look pretty in a fancy dress. If anyone could turn heads at a ball, it’d be you.”

You scoffed and waved your hand dismissively at the compliment. “No way. Daryl is going, though.” Carol raised her eyebrow at that. “Security. He’s watching the doors with Rosita. Part of their training, I guess.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “Make sure he cleans up nice.”

Daryl was dreading the masquerade ball, in fact, but he had other problems that afternoon, too. Namely, he’d been given the task of helping Sebastian with his training, which he considered punishment for failing a previous exercise that day, which employed the use of teamwork.

Indeed, Daryl was not always the best at teamwork. At least, not with people he barely knew.

He’d been given two heavy duffel bags of weapons, he presumed, to carry and lay out for Sebastian to use in the dense, woody training grounds on the outskirts of town. Rosita had come along, too, helping Daryl carry the load (and probably a little worried he’d lose his cool working with Sebastian).

Mercer stood by, too, supervising Sebastian and the new soldiers, but he seemed just as peeved by the snotty rich man.

Daryl and Rosita opened the bags to reveal some very familiar weapons—Rosita’s macuahuitl, Jerry’s sword, Judith’s katana, and, most troubling to Daryl, Robin’s spear and your ice axe.

In the other bag was Daryl’s crossbow, a few of his knives, and his morning star he used on rare occasions, but it was all his nonetheless. He’d wondered, indeed, where everyone’s weapons had gone, and it seemed they were going to be used by Sebastian for his little training exercises.

He was enraged, to say the least.

“All right,” said Sebastian, “let’s see what Santa brought me.”

Daryl narrowed his eyes at the obnoxious little man. “This supposed to be funny?”

“He gets the newest ones for his drills,” answered Mercer, stoic as always.

Sebastian picked up one of Daryl’s knives and began unsheathing it from its holster. “Advanced military training, Mercer,” he corrected.

“Advanced military training,” repeated Mercer, in a rather annoyed tone.

Sebastian haphazardly tossed Daryl’s knife back onto the table before rather carelessly picking up your axe, chuckling at it under his breath in amusement at the lightweight tactical tool.

Daryl felt a wave of rage incoming, and if he ruined your beloved axe, the one you’d worn on your belt for almost ten years, he was going to have a big problem.

“Hey, careful with that one,” he said.

Sebastian looked between him and the axe in his hands. “What, this icepick?” he scoffed. “Yeah, it’s not worth my time.” He reached his hand out to throw the axe somewhere where it couldn’t offend him, and Daryl just kept his intense eyes glued to him, imagining just how great it would feel to throw him one hard right hook, right in the kisser.

It almost became comical when Sebastian attempted using the other weapons, holding Daryl’s crossbow incorrectly, swinging Rosita’s macuahuitl with way too much fervor, and finally, wielding Daryl’s morning star like a clown, until he lost control of it, and hit his foot with it before dropping it, much to Daryl’s internal amusement, but he kept the same outward demeanor of “fuck you.”

“You gotta swing all the way through,” he said.

“That thing is pathetic,” replied Sebastian. “Belongs on a wall.”

He switched to one of Jerry’s axes and decided that was good enough for him. “All right,” he said to Mercer, “release the rotters.”

The “rotters” were nearly collected in a train car just a few yards away, and though Sebastian didn’t have a problem taking the first one out with the axe, it proved more difficult to get the second one with Daryl’s knife, which he rather stupidly pierced into the walker’s shoulder rather than its skull, and subsequently struggled to retrieve it.

Perhaps he felt he needed to be a hero, even for such an annoying man, or perhaps he just hoped maybe he’d miss his target and actually shoot Sebastian in the head, but he reached for his crossbow, old reliable, and wasted no time in shooting the walker dead, much to Sebastian’s dismay.

Whatever he said after that was not of much consequence to Daryl, but the whole thing put him in a slight mood when he got home, and though you tried to hold him still to make him look rather dashing in his security uniform, he jittered with rage as he recounted the incident to you.

“Is my axe okay?” you asked, ironing his shirt with your hands as best you could, though you wished you had your real iron from back at home.

“Yeah,” he said. “But that little bastard’s a dead man,” he whispered under his breath in an attempt for the children on the other side of the room not to hear his cursing. “Hope I don’t see him tonight.”

You pouted and made some finishing touches to his hair, trying to make it look less wild and more controllably wavy.

“Well, if you do see him, at least you’ll look nice.” You held up your hand mirror to show him his visage, hoping he’d pay special attention to the hair you styled.

To him, of course, it didn’t look any different from usual, but you’d spent ten minutes meticulously parting it and spraying homemade solution from home to get his hair looking shiny and bouncy, and to accentuate his natural waves by defining them and encouraging them to nearly curl at the ends. He looked gorgeous, if you were to say so yourself.

You continued playing with his hair as his eyes darted all over the handheld mirror in search of where to look.

“You like it?”

He shrugged and raised his hand to mess with his hair himself. “Yeah, I guess.”

You admired your handiwork, smiling sweetly at his image in the mirror, how perfectly his dark, chestnut colored locks framed his well-defined cheekbones, and the adorable smattering of grey hairs that made up his short, scruffy beard that never grew much longer than stubble, but was so endearing in its consistency.

Oftentimes you thought about just how lucky Daryl was, being blessed with such good genetics. You’d seen his brother before, and based just on that, you were sure Daryl received the better package.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go tonight,” you said, and he turned to look at you with furrowed brows.

“Nah,” he said. “It’s my job. Why shouldn’t I go?”

You shrugged and kissed his cheek from behind, still looking at his handsome face in the mirror.

“Because I don’t want all the pretty, rich Commonwealth ladies ogling you. I couldn’t compete with them.”

He scoffed and lowered the mirror before turning to grab your waist and press a small kiss to your jawline, careful not to do anything else since the kids were in view.

“You really think they got anythin’ on you, pretty girl?” he asked quietly. “And ya really think anyone there’s gonna be lookin’ at this?”

He gestured to his face, and your irritation at how much he didn’t realize how beautiful he was caused you to roll your eyes and scoff at the very notion of anyone not finding him attractive.

“I know I’d be looking at you,” you said, holding his scratchy cheeks in your hands and admiring his face once again, even the jagged red scar trailing down his forehead and under his eye. “My big, strong, handsome man…”

He pinched your nose before giving you a sweet, solid kiss on the lips. “Gotta go ‘fore ya get too carried away.”

He bid the children farewell and was off to the ball, “like Cinderella,” you’d teased him.

And like Cinderella, too, he was forgetful.

You realized after a few hours had gone by that he’d left his late-night dinner you’d packed for him, and since you knew he wouldn’t be allowed to eat the fancy food at the event, you panicked, changing from your pajamas into your clothes and leaving the children with Dog with the expectation that you’d only be gone about ten minutes to deliver Daryl his food, but the universe had other plans that evening.

Approaching the municipal building, you’d expected Daryl and Rosita to be guarding the doors to the event, but neither of them were there. In fact, only a crowd of average Joe’s stood outside, crowding the door and trying to peek in to see something, but you were too far away to tell.

“What’s going on?” you asked, slightly concerned that something bad was happening, since in the world you lived in, bad things seemed to always happen.

“Some waiter’s got a knife to a woman's neck,” a man told you, and what soon followed was a loud gasp from the crowd, and another guard came out to shoo everyone from the premises.

“I need to see my husband,” you said to the soldier dressed in full Commonwealth Army getup. Of course, you probably didn’t need to see Daryl, but you were worried, and curious. He was your husband, too, and he needed his dinner, after all. “He’s security.”

“You need to leave, ma’am,” he said simply, his voice muffled by the helmet over his head. “Everyone’s got husbands in here.”

You scoffed. Well, not everyone’s got my husband, you thought, and indeed, Daryl was special. He might not have been special to anyone else in there, but he was special to you.

For all your begging, the man didn’t relent, and you were forced to retreat home with a worry in the pit of your stomach, until a hand grasped firmly at your wrist, and if you hadn’t immediately recognized it as your husband’s, you would’ve kicked him where the sun doesn’t shine, but you flung your arms around his neck and sighed in deep relief.

“What the hell are ya doin’ out here?” he asked, holding you close despite the apparent frustration in his voice.

You laughed and kissed his cheek. “You forgot your dinner,” you said, holding up his lunch pail as evidence. “They wouldn’t let me come in. I heard a waiter was threatening someone or something? Is everyone all right?”

He nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

Everything, of course, wasn’t fine, but what was he to say? That a waiter who’d been a victim of the class divide and inequality in the Commonwealth had tried to rebel against the upper echelons? That it had finally appeared at least one person was prepared to risk it all to take down Pamela Milton and her cronies? That there was more conflict in this perfect little world than any of the Alexandrians had once thought?

“It’s not fine, is it?” you asked, practically seeing all those hectic thoughts running through his head behind his eyes.

He lowered his head as he thought of the young man he’d just slipped handcuffs onto, and how he’d ushered him away to some fate he was too low level to even know of. All he knew was that he felt like he needed to wash his hands, in one way or another, and that he didn't have a good feeling about whatever was to be done with the man who had just tried to singlehandedly overthrow the government.

“Nah,” he said.

~

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[slashingdisneypasta]

Scott x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Total DRAMA; All Stars

Notes:

I had a blast with the few parts 'Mike' was in, haha (;

FINALLY, this is done. Oh my god. I hope there are some Scott fans here other than me XD

Plot: In true McLean style, Chris decides to release some NEVER BEFORE SEEN CLIPS! from Revenge of the Island, of the absolute WORST moment between you and Scott, alone.

Warnings: Courtney being a bitch and calling you a whore. Yeah I may have taken her antagonistic nature too far... but the writers started it.

As soon as the scene ends - a very incriminating scene between you and Scott last season. Set in the dark, in a secluded part of the woods, stars over head... and no vicious creatures around to ruin it, - and Chef turns off the TV, you start praying for the ground to open up underneath you at once. And you desperately begin to wish that a blind gopher will turn up, decide that you're its new child, and carry you off to the safety of a cave. Or even better- Ezekiel!

You don't even hear all the oooooh's and evil laughter from other campers.

Instead, all you can do is turn to Zoey and just try, to explain yourself. Her arms are crossed over her chest and that glare that's focused on you... jesus christ. She's so mad. It hurts to look at. "Zoey- please- listen to me. That was before we knew what he was doing! I swear, if I could do it now- I'd take it back!"

"Then why didn't you tell me??" A glint of heartache, rather then anger, flashes in her eyes and your stomach rolls. The last thing you ever want to do is hurt Zoey. She's your best friend! You only met last year, during Revenge of the Island, but you cant even imagine a life without her in it, now.

"I... I don't know."

She immediately looks away, making your heart fall.

No-

"- And you! Boyfriend kisser." As soon as Courtney's voice registers in your brain, your feelings turn a little bit more into anger. But, still- you're not concerned with her. You just ignore her. "Look at me."

"Zoey, please talk to me."

"Y/N! I want to talk to you." Courtney screeches, still trying to get your attention. And you're still ignoring her.

"Its Scott! I cant... even... - You kissed Scott!"

The words themselves cause a twinge of guilt and disgust to twist in your gut, and you fight not to glance over at the boy. At the time... it was a nice kiss. And even at the start of this season, once you already knew what an ass Scott truly is, you were content in just keeping it to yourself as a pleasant little memory, to open every once and a while and relive- but otherwise never to be mentioned. It wasn't something you regretted. Not for a moment.

.... But, hell. The way Zoey said it...

Now you sure regret it. You don't know if you can enjoy it ever, again.

"He played us all for fools Zo, it wasn't just me! Please, believe me- if I had known he was manipulating us- I would never, ever, have- "

Courtney taps your shoulder now, forcing a deep eye roll from you and even deeper shoulder roll. Don't touch me.

Zoey looks down at her feet, then at you for a moment and you watch her lips tremble and her eyes give away the fight going on inside her - between forgiving you, and how betrayed she must feel, - before she looks away and your heart just sinks. "I... don't know, Y/N. I just... cant believe you did that... "

As you're wondering helplessly of what you can possibly say to make it up to her, to clear this whole thing up, Mike comes up to Zoey and touches her shoulder in comfort. "Y/N maybe you should go... "

"Mike- " You start, when Courtney grabs your arm and you finally give in to her nagging. Growling, you whip around and come face to face with her, shaking her hand off your arm viscously. Scott is standing nervously behind her, but you don't dare pay him any mind.

"Oh my god, Courtney, what!?" You snap, entirely frustrated with this girl. "I'm a little busy, in case you couldn't tell."

"You were ignoring me!" She whines, offended, making you roll your eyes and sigh, deeply.

"Yeah-take a hint maybe??"

"I wanted to talk to you!"

"Ugh- Yeah! I got that. But as far as I see it- my trying to apologise and get my friends back is a whooooole lot more important, then you picking a fight with me over a kiss that happened before you even met the guy." Narrowing your eyes, you make like you're going to turn on her, which you have 100 percent intentions to do- twisting your body a bit back towards your friend. "Bugger off."

Courtney scowls, that perfect little nose scrunched up in fury as one of her hands rests on her hip. "You cant talk to me like that! I'll get you voted off."

"Oh go ahead!- " Jesus christ- she can do whatever she wants. As long as you can get back to Zoey. God, Courtney's like an annoying fly- why Gwen puts so much effort into being her friend you will never get. "Just let me talk to Zoey first yeah?"

The wicked witch of the west crosses her arms, this time. Rolling her eyes, she titters. "Whores last wishes... "

Immediately, you stop. You hear a gasp from behind you but apart from that, everything seems to come to a crashing halt around you. Everything seems to stop. The people around you, the wind, the sound in your ears- as all you can think is that phrase over and over.

Whores last wishes

Whores...

Whore.

She called you a whore.

She dared to call you, a whore. How many boys has she kissed on this show?? And you kiss one boy, who she just happens to be dating now, and somehow you're the slutty one?

Your blood boils under you skin, but you're caught so off guard that she would dare to say something like that to you - and on TV, to boot, - that no words come out of your mouth. You just stand there, wide eyed.

Scott steps up and puts a hand on Courtney's arm. "Hey, that one mighta been going a bit far... "

"What?? Its true. Any girl who kisses another girls boyfriend is a whore. Whore, whore, slut, whore. And to boot, she ignored me. What kind of selfish bitchery, is that!?"

"I mean... " Scott rubs the back of his neck, awkwardly. "... you did kiss Cameron... while we were dating... " Courtney rounds on him, hands on her hips, and the weasel holds his hands up immediately, a traitorous smile on his face. "I mean you're so pretty!!"

Scoffing, you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, protectively. Figures. Greasy little weasel. And you even got your hopes up then, that he just might stand up for you.

You wont make that mistake again... for the third, time...

"He wasn't. Even. 'Your boyfriend'. When it happened!!" You exclaim, 120 percent frustrated at her. "Are you fucking delusional??"

Yeah, if she's going to use grown up words- you can too.

"Hm." Her high fricken voice sounds smug, and she smirks as she turns away from you. "You're right. But better delusional, then sad, bitter and lonely. You're a perfect match for Chester. Or Chef! I'm no novice where boyfriend kissers are concerned- " At that little comment you catch the sight of Gwen wincing, as she stands over by Alejandro and the other gawkers. "But at least I ended up with the guy, this time."

Your fists clench at your sides, shaking.

... Sad... bitter... and lonely.

Worrying your bottom lip, you actually start to feel like crying. She hit the nail right on the head, there. Before Revenge of The Island... you didn't have a lot of friends... so when you met Zoey, and Mike, and Cameron,... and they seemed to see something in you, that no one ever had previously, something that made you worthy of friendship... you vowed to keep them safe. Never hurt them. Because without them you would be alone again.

And... bitter.

And sad.

But now you've gone and hurt them, and you're about to lose them.

And Courtney's just rubbing it in.

God, everyone can see it, cant they? How pathetic I am...

You don't know what to say in response. Your mouth is dry. You feel like running away. You desperately want to disappear, right now.

Courtney, Gwen and Scott walk off before everyone else seems to get bored and disperse as well, and you're sure that you are what she said - alone, - when suddenly a hand slips into yours from behind and you turn around, nervously, to see Zoey, Mike and Cam behind you.

She's looking sympathetically at you, squeezing your hand. "... Come on." She speaks softly, and tears fill your eyes. Tears of relief or sadness, you don't quite know. Probably, both. "Its okay. It'll be okay."

Relieved that she's not gone, you wrap your arms around her and start sobbing, as she holds onto you.

___TIME SKIP___

A couple hours later, you're taking some peace and quiet, on your own. By choice. Sitting cross legged by a stream, you take in a deep, breath. "... hell."

Well, today was awful. A huge mess, actually. Fucking Chris, showing you all that stupid video. You wish you never even gave him the fodder.

But how could you have known... God, it was just a kiss. It was just a kiss! You're a teenager... and it was just a little kiss... how could it have caused that all that!?

When the sound of a twig snapping catches your attention, you practically snap your neck turning around to see what's in the clearing with you- and feel anger and something hot, but different, flare up in you at the sight of Scott. Your eyes immediately narrow.

"What do you want?"

"I, uh... " Your gaze flickers up and down his form, trying to figure him out. What is he doing here? Rubbing his neck nervously and avoiding your gaze like a coward? "I... wanted to see, how you were going? After all that mess with the video? Courtney was a little outta line... "

Scoffing, you turn away. "Yeah, she was. Its not like you really cared, though."

His brows suddenly furrow and a deep frown crinkles his face; Defensive. "Wait a minute there, I cared."

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms and absolutely refusing to look at him. Excess sarcasm drips off your tongue. "Oh yeah, that really translated- what with you standing behind her and shutting down the moment she snaps at you, and all. Everyone knows you're not a wimp like that, so you staying quiet like you did really sent a message. Don't worry, I got it."

Scott is literally starting to fume, now, fists clenched at his sides and frown so deep in his face it looks like its digging to China. "Look Y/N, I was only backing off cuz it was clear you didn't give a damn about me. With all that 'I swear, Zoey, if I could take it back- I would!!' crap and the 'I would never ever have' kissed me bullshit." As you peak back at him, realising you did say that... and only realising now that he had heard it, even though he was there the whole time and only its natural that he would have, you see him cross his own arms as you let yours relax at your sides. Oh, jeez. How crazy that was hits you like a ton of bricks. "You got the message? Psh. Well hell, so did I. Loud and clear."

Suddenly you're on the defensive, turning fully to look up at him with wide, sorry eyes. "Look, Scott, I didn't mean to be hurtful, I just... "

"You just what? Thought that stuff wouldn't bother me? Y/N I never used that kiss to manipulate you or put Zoey off her game, so I thought you got what I meant, by it." His shoulders sag suddenly and you feel your heart immediately sink along with them; He resembles a kicked puppy in this moment way too much, considering the jerk he really is. Or tends to act like. "It had nothing to do with the freaken show- " As your heart is swimming around sadly at your feet, the scowl reappears on his face - a face that you, admittedly, are pretty fond of, - again, spite burning in blue. "So yeah, you throwing it back in my face like that does bother me."

Leaning back, you cant help but look unconvinced Scott's way. After a moment, you get up from the ground and, after wiping the dirt off your butt, you stand up to him; Hands on hips. "What exactly are you saying Scott?"

"Look, I'm not good with... romance... " The way he says the word conveys a deep aversion to the whole thing, due to awkwardness. His pale face has become red, even though its clear he's still not pleased with you. The scowl is still present and he refuses to look at you in the face; Preferring to avert his gaze to the grass. "I don't know how to do it. Which should be glaringly obvious, by now."

You huff, snapping. "For goodness sakes, then just say it simple!"

He immediately blurts it out, struck by your tone like a spooked broodmare. "I like you!" ... Okay, now you're bright red. And silent. Scott winces. "... Okay?"

After a moment of just looking shocked and embarrassed at him, heart hammering in your chest, you cross your arms over it and focus on digging the tip of your boot into the dirt. "We- um... Well... uh... I did not know that... "

Scott's accent, as always, comes out thicker in his annoyance. He rolls his eyes- still pink, but not letting that get in the way of being irritated by you and this whole damn situation. "Yeah, no kidding."

Taking a deep breath and glancing nervously, for just a moment, up at him you try to apologise. Not that he has, or anything, for the betrayals last season. "I wouldn't have said what I said, If I'd known... "

"Yeah, well, I don't need your pity Y/N so don't bother." He growls, making your stomach roll - which weirdly enough isn't super unpleasant... or even unpleasant at all... -, but surprisingly he doesn't leave. He stays here, arms crossed half a foot away from you. Probably too close, actually.

But you don't dare step away.

... that is, until you suddenly remember Zoey again, and how she feels about Scott and how there's no way you're making another mistake like this again, and a clipped gasp slips from you as you do indeed step back. "Um, well, I don't pity you. Because you're still a jerk. And also- I'm leaving. So- "

Turning around, you try to make your escape when Scott seems to have conniption behind you and jolts forward, grabbing your shoulder first way too tightly, then forcing it to become far too gentle, before letting go entirely. It's clear he didn't know what was acceptable, but he still sure captures your attention, though. "W-wait! I... broke up with Courtney."

You sigh, hesitantly turning back around. He's doing that thing where he looks innocent, but this time you believe it. "Ugh- Scott, that... I don't even... that doesn't change anything!- "

"And I... talked, to Zoey."

That catches your attention, and your gaze snaps up to his. "You what?"

You can only imagine how something like that went. Those two hate each other, maybe even more then Gwen and Heather hate each other, and that's saying something.

"Yeah, yeah, trust me when I say that it wasn't easy." He rolls his eyes, deeply, and huffs. "The nitwit just cant make anything easy, for me." At that, you set him with a glare and he waives you off, aloof. Then he flashes a smirk at you, a mischievous twinkle in his beady blue eyes. "Whatever. Aren't you interested in what we talked, about?"

Narrowing your eyes and pressing your lips into a thin, disapproving line... you hesitantly, give in. "... Well, yes- "

That mischievous smirk only broadens, and he seems to get closer suddenly - or maybe you're only just now realising it, as he looks down at you like that, - , and you realise how your hearts beating so erratically in your chest- Scott always did have that effect on you... when he wasn't being an idiot. Eyes widening, you wait patiently for him to say something. "... I told her how I liked you." You can hear your heart beating in your ears, as Scott struggles with his words; Rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding your big round eyes. "How... I'm not so good with the... romance... but it felt more natural, when it was just you and me. Like- with Courtney, it's hard. Really, really hard! I end up looking like a real dumbass when I try with her. But then when we're alone, I can... I- I don't know, breath. And that's how the kiss happened. I told her, I'm sorry it upset her... which may or may not be true, or any of her business in the first place... but- the point is, she also said it was kind- kinda, sweet."

All through this little speech, Scott was becoming more and more focused, and with every surprising word that came out of his mouth you became more and more hooked. You would never have thought that hearing Scott of all people tell you things like this would effect you at all but your words are caught in your throat- even though all you want to do is tell him something back. But- "Uhm... " Managing to tear your gaze away from his, cheeks heated up like Chris's tanning bed, you cross your arms and force different words then you want to form, from you lips. "That... that doesn't really change what you did, does it? Or the fact that my friends hate you."

Suddenly Scott's hands found your waist and gasp tears out of you, gaze snapping up to his face as your hand automatically catch his shoulders. What the hell!? You haven't really touched each other since the kiss, and its like electricity courses through your veins now that you do. Its a shock, and pleasant, and it makes you confused as you stand there, Scott under your hands. "She also said, that if you wanted to do this," Was it you or him that moved you in closer against him? All you know is your feet drag across the ground almost on their own accord, and your hands find their way to his shoulders. Scott's shoulders. "She wouldn't get in the way. Which isn't a surprise, I mean- she's way too nice. Its annoying, usually, but- I think I can make this one work."

Your eyes slip heavily from his strong hands on your waist, to yours on his freckled shoulders, to his eyes- this all just seeming too good to be real. You've liked Scott - of course you have. You wouldn't have kissed him if you hadn't, and you certainly wouldn't have hated him so much after the betrayals if you didn't really care about him, - secretly, basically since that first time the country boy smiled at you- but it just hasn't been a real option very many times on this show. "Zoey said that?"

"Yeah. I mean, she also punched me in the face for not standing up for you when Courtney called you sad, but- "

"Scott."

He stops talking, and though his eyes were already on you- they soften, now. Blue hues looking the least evil as you had seen them... in a while. Since last season... in the dark... stars over head... and no vicious creatures around to ruin it. Chewing your bottom lip, you think this over. He's getting slowly closer, a kiss that you don't think you could push away if it actually connected, rearing nearer. Your gaze falls on his mouth, and your cheeks heat up.

He says Zoey said it would be fine... and god you want to... But...

Taking a deep breath through your nose and closing your eyes, you take a step back; Hands falling down his arms to his hands. He looks confused at you, before you hold up one finger at him, opening your eyes and looking earnest. "Give me one one minute."

A smirk flickers on across his face. "Okay, but what- " You whip around, and start bolting off towards the cabins. "Where are you going!!!?"

"Be back in a minute!!" Jeez!

But... you need to check with your friend.

It takes you less then a minute to reach the losers cabin, in which the hero's would be staying the night, throw open the door and collapse beside Zoey on her bed; Huffing and puffing. She raises her brows at the entrance, a tiny smile quirking at the corners of her lips that she tries valiantly to push away. "... Hi?"

"Zoey- Did Scott- Huff- Did he talk to you??"

"Oh- yeah, just after you left us actually. I have to admit, he said some pretty sweet things about you... Didn't he, Mike??" Zoey turns her head to her crush - or, whatever they are to eachother. You can never tell. Mike's been acting very weird, lately, - sitting on a top bunk on the other side of the room. For a split second he looks disgusted, and rolls his eyes, before giving a thumbs up and a big goofy grin.

"Oh, yeah!! It was nauseating! Villainous Vulture?? More like Sympathetic Squirrel!" He announces in agreement using a very cheerful voice, to which Cameron - on the bottom bunk, - raises a brow, weirded out by the juxtaposition between tone and wording. Zoey just giggles, though, and turns back to you.

She takes a deep breath, and reaches over to hold your hand. "Look, Y/N. I don't... totally get it? Haha." She giggles again, but this time nervously. You take a deep breath, holding her hand back with both of yours and searching her face for... anything. Anything she might be holding back. Because she's your best friend, and if she's going to have a problem with Scott in the future, you are not going to risk it. Risk her. Not again. "... But I believed him. And, so, if you... ugh, want to date him?? I wont get in your way."

Squeezing her hand, you let out the deep breath that you were holding- not wanting to jump the gun. "Zo, I wont do it, if it makes you uncomfortable."

For a moment, then, she says nothing. And you think you've blown it, that she' going to take her blessing back and you're going to have to move on, which would suck... but you would do it, in a heartbeat. For her. Even if it was hard. But then you see how she's searching your face, face pinched in focus.

... Before she lets out a breath, of her own. "You really like, him don't you... " She says, almost to herself. Eyes on the wall. "Honestly I don't know how I didn't see it before!" She turns to you, scootching closer on the bed and taking both your hands in hers, now. "Look, I get that you're worried about me... but I think we can do this! You're my best friend, too, and I... I want you to be happy!" She smiles, now, and its such a true and warm smile that your heart aches. In your peripheral, you catch sight of someone on a top bunk shaking his head and sticking out his tongue at the affectionate scene. Probably fucking Duncan. "So yes, I'm sure!"

With that, Zoey pulls you into a hug and you bury your face in her shoulder, before pulling back and getting up to leave- but, you stop at the door, and turn back. "And- Zo? I heard about the punch." Looking down at her, she looks guilty for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip and averting her eyes. "I cant comment now because I'm his girlfriend- but- " You give her a wink and a smile, trying not to laugh when she rolls her eyes and chuckles, before you let the door shut behind you and rush off again at top speed.

When Scott enters your vision again he's kicking at some dirt on the ground, looking bored and worried until he sees you and his eyes widen. "Woah- hey! Welcome back, what happen- "

When you reach him, you throw your arms around him and press your lips to his, nearly pushing you both over the force of your connection but he immediately catches you both, twirling you around before you both steady yourselves on the ground, deepening the kiss this time.

[bitchfitch]

good fucking lord im doing this Im Doing This. List of Major Character ocs by project so i have a set list to work from for this nightmare painting. Including only the ones central to the romantic plots bc im a romance writer and like Hell am i making more work for myself by including every other important character:

Total: 69 (NICE)

the birth and death of everything

Raven

screech,

mikely

copper,

metok

nulk,

amar

dice

milla,

creature

agnes,

Charlotte

Clara,

Kitty

mia,

dnd and dnd adjacent

babylon

everard(boar rendition),

niente

everard(2),

Nekohdah

his weird cancer god,

no name

villar+

lily

mel

stone

tamm

ezekiel

opal

rock

gothic romance tarot

evi

evan

valko

peregrine

ensio

Evla

princess

banes and boons

arlo

conall

henry

adonis

ione

echo/

bagri

einar

haze

Aleistar

chase

silas

the sire

That pirate thing

Lordakai

Toi'uhla

laz

Yandoli

non series ocs:

harla

quin

jane

the dancer

anta

lavi

ford

villain

minion

sorceress

Maskota

baldric

reidar

prince

hound

[youfeltright]

noah fence but