#I have no idea how I spent so long on these

[hyperfixiation-station]

Behind Enemy Lines Pt.1

CW: Torture, Canon-typical violence, talk of derealization, disassociation Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life. A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. idea part 2

You fought back, at first. Way back when you first got captured, taken from your base camp and dragged through miles and miles of harsh terrain, blindfolded and bound. A medic you were, yes. But your team had trained you with the best of them. You spent the whole time trying to escape, kicking and screaming until they bound your legs and gagged you. You spent the first month of captivity refusing to talk to them, hissing and spitting and pretending their punches didn’t hurt. But it didn't take you long to realize it was better to cooperate, or to at least be civil. Civility got you less broken bones, less pain, more rations, more sleep. Cooperation didn’t come till later, when you finally realized your team wasn't coming for youthey were dead but you didn't know that.

Surprisingly, the whole mouth-getting-sewn-shut didn't happen till a couple years in... they were torturing someone, a man who said he had kids and a wife at home, whose only wish was that they left something recognizable of him so they could get some closure. You begged them to stop. Begged them to stop when his wounds became too numerous to count, too much for you to handle. Begged because you started to care for him as he told you about his son and daughter, how they want him home for Christmas(You didn't have the heart to tell him Christmas was 6 days ago) Told them that he would die no matter what you did if they continued. Well, they didn't stop, and he did die... and you found yourself ringing in the new year by being strapped to a table.

“We warned you to stop talking with him.” They said as they clamped the metal shut over your forehead and chin, holding you in place. “We told you to not get attached, but since you can’t seem to do it on your own, we’ll help you.” The feeding tube came 2 weeks later, shoved up your nose when they realized you were starving...they couldn't lose their favorite medic of course.

You stopped paying attention to the passage of time after that, spent most of your days drifting in and out of reality, moving through the motions with a practiced ease. And it would have remained that way, if it wasn’t for a man in a skull mask with a team- a family- looking for him. 

Your first introduction to him ended up with you getting a broken nose. Per usual, you were shoved into the cell, medical kit in hand, ready to fix up whatever damage your captors had done the their poor prisoner.

The mask he had been wearing when you saw him dragged in was gone, and he had a gash that went all the way through his cheek that would need stitching up. You pull out your equipment, moving slowly towards his bleeding face. 

he headbutted you the moment you got close enough for him to reach, and the crunch of bone and the gush of warm blood followed, not that you noticed. You were still in that dreamlike state, not quite tether to reality in the way you should be. You barely noticed when they tranqued him, and the only reason you didn't finish his stitches is because you passed out too(it’s hard to breathe through a bloody, broken nose)

The next time you approach more carefully, but he’s no trouble. Mostly because they left him completely strapped to the table this time. Today was a rare day, a time when you  could actually feel your feet on the ground rather than just see them. You feel bad as you wipe him down, your eyes flicking over the myriad of scars on his body. What’s one more you think to yourself as you get to work stitching a stab wound to his thigh. Just barely missed the artery here…that could have been bad news. Okay tie it off and- there we go. I think the only other thing that need to- oh, is he…talking to me? I should probably pay attention to that.

“-here?” His voice is gravely, though you suppose yours would be too after being tortured. He stares at you expectantly, and you shrug. You don’t know what he said, and even if you did, you couldn’t answer. You just move to his wrist, snapping the bone back in place. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t make an actual sound, which surprises you. But you don’t dwell on it, wrapping a bandage around his arm and moving to exit the room. 

“Y’ no’ g’nna lemme off?” His voice sounds, “they said y’ would.” You spin around, staring at him. You're not stupid. And even if your…bosses had said that, you still wouldn’t do it. Being trapped in a room with a man who is at least a foot taller than you and looks like he could kill a man with his glare? No thank you. 

You take a step back, heading towards the door. The man lets out a sound you would barely qualify as a laugh. “Sm’rt then.” He says to himself, “No’ gonna be that easy.” 

The next time you go in, you can't help but wonder what they want from this man. By now they usually would have killed him off. Oh well, not your job to wonder. You clean him up, splinting the fingers they had broke when he talks to you again.

"why don't y' let me die?" He says, voice just as gravely as before, "Put me outa m' misery?" You don't respond, just keep taping his hand. IT's something you ad asked yourself, right at the beginning. It would be kinder for you to just let your patients die. But you couldn't do it. Partially because you were punished anytime someone died before your captors wanted them to, but also because you were a medic. YOu were there to heal. You couldn't stomach letting someone die by your hand.

"Answer me!" The man snarls, bringing you back to the present, "For god's sake y' never talk, fuckin' mute." You don't respond, of course. Just finish your task and leave him to his thoughts.

He’s angrier after that time, you’ve noticed. The few times you're actually present, he’s fighting you. Usually not with words, but he bucks and doesn’t hold still. He’s tried to grab your medical supplies countless times, and one time you actually had to be pulled out because he jerked his arm while you were stitching him and somehow managed to drive the needle into your own hand. The few times he does actually yell at you, you’re usually not paying attention. You can catch words like “Dishonorable”  and “Disgraceful”. You aren’t entirely sure of the context of the words, but you can guess. You’ve treated enough prisoners who think that you are the world's worst human being, a blight to the medical field, to guess what he's trying to tell you. 

It's funny though, this man so full of hate. Because, for the first time in goodness knows how long, your feet are on the ground, and your head is level. Something about this man, his angry, uncrushed demeanor, even after weeks of torture, stirs emotion in you that you can’t quite identify. And maybe you should be grateful, thankful your head is on right, but you're not. You so desperately want to go back to that place of apathy and detachment, where your emotions weren’t so strong, were the pains of mishealed bones and poorly healed scars didn’t plague your waking moments. 

Or maybe it wasn’t the man- The Ghost, as you found out he was called. Maybe it was the fact that something in the air had changed. The air was electric, charged with tension so thick you could feel it even alone in your cot. They were watching you, you could tell. Could feel their eyes tracking your movements in a way they hadn’t since first giving you freedom to move around. 

You're not sure why. It’s not like you have anyone to go home to. You were an only child, and your parents had died long before you reached 18. All you had was your team, a team that had seemingly abandoned you. So why would you leave? There was nowhere to go. And yet they watched you. Was it because you were becoming more aware, more grounded then you had been in a long while? Was it the man, Ghost, who had them on edge? 

The answer came two days later. You were in Ghost's cell again, desperately packing gauze into a gaping hole on his side. You don’t know what had happened, but for the first time in years you were dragged from your cell, your captors muttering under their breath in a language you still didn’t understand as they thrust you into his cell. Blood was everywhere. Your best guess was that Ghost had been struggling and an instrument had slipped and gouged out a hole in his side. So here you are, packing gauze into the wound as you try to figure out what to do to keep him alive with your rudimentary supplies. 

You pack another piece of gauze in just as the door goes flying open. Men, dressed in black, wearing the same mask Ghost was, come bursting in. 

“Get back!” The one in the front yells at you, gun pointed in your face. You shake your head, hands pressed against Ghost’s wound. 

“Now!” You make a protesting noise, trying to gesture with your chin. The man looks down, eyes widening. 

“Aw shit- are you the medic?” You nod almost desperately. The man looks at you again, staring at your hands. They are shaking, pressed against the wound as you try to keep Ghost from bleeding out. 

“Fix him.” The man snaps. You shake your head and look up at the man, trying to communicate that you need more supplies. 

“Use your words.” The man gabs the gun at you, indicating he wants you to get on with it. You stomp your foot, shaking your head again. 

“What, what's that supposed..…you can’t speak, can you?” You nod, glad he finally got it. The man groans, lowering his gun.

“You’re coming with us, but you make one wrong move, and I mean one, I will put a bullet through your brain before you can even speak. Got it?” He gestures to the other two men with him, and together you lift Ghost up, carrying him out to safety.

A/N- anyways, here's part one. Sorry if it disappoints anyone

tags, sorry if i missed any:

@redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05  @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz  @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho

[softtdaisy]

a better father / Aaron Hotchner

summary. All Hotch wanted was to get a second chance to be a better dad. And now that you were offering him this chance, he fears he might have failed already.

words count. 2,465

a/n.  I got this idea with the episode from season two when Haley comes and she tells Hotch that he forgot about an appointment for Jack and I was like omg I need to do something with that so here's sad Aaron again

Being an FBI agent and a dad was sometimes hard to combine. Hotch knew something about that. 

He had a lot of regrets about Jack. Not being there much when he was a baby, not seeing his first steps, hearing his first word, and missing so many memories that were nicely caught on camera by Haley. Things he could never make up for.

And no matter how often Jack could tell him that he didn’t hold any grudge against his dad, Hotch still felt bad most of the time. Wishing he could get a second chance to be a better dad. 

At some point, he accepted that it would never happen. He was getting older, and the morality wanted him to date women close to his age. Which wasn’t a bad thing at all. He had wonderful dates with them. But none of them wanted to have a child. Some already had one, some never wanted to get pregnant, and some simply couldn’t. And of course it was never a cause of a breakup—or stop seeing them, because Hotch didn’t date most of them. Hotch simply accepted he won’t be a dad again. 

Then he met you.

You were an old friend of JJ's that he met at her birthday. Your work made you travel around the world for many years, which explained your absence during the past parties and you being unknown to most of the team. But you were back in town, ready to meet new people and start a new life.

Hotch never believed in fate.

But he was sure he was destined to meet you.

You were so full of life, acting like a ray of sunshine in every room you were in. And not that he considered himself dark, but he had to admit that his life and job had quite an impact on how he perceived himself. As someone who wasn’t very funny or joyful to be around. Not a very good dad or a nice partner. And sometimes, not even a great boss.

His life was pretty much in black and white. And when you came around, you brought colors with you.

It started that very first night, when you spent almost an hour sitting outside with Aaron. Drinking and watching the stars.

“Shouldn’t you be with JJ?” He asked after you finished a conversation about your favorite countries to visit and the one you recommended for someone like him.

“Don’t know,” you replied, shrugging. “I like being with you.”

Aaron could blame the alcohol for the redness on his cheeks, but you both knew it was insecurity and flattering. It’s been a long time since someone pointed out how they liked spending time with him. He felt…alive, knowing that you wanted to be around him.

And you weren’t lying for a single second. “You’re an interesting man, Aaron Hotchner. You need to let people see that.” you added, giving him a little shoulder bump. You kept your shoulder against his for a second. You loved the little smile your words created and the sparks that appeared in his eyes.

You felt lucky that you were one of the few people he offered a glimpse of the real him.

It started with coffee dates once a week. Before he went to work, and while you were still discovering your new life back in town, you met at the same coffee shop for an hour. You talked about everything, more life than work. You wanted to see Aaron, and not Hotch, the man JJ told you about. 

Even if she gave you such a good description of him that you were already willing to give him your heart without any hesitation.

You loved discovering new things about him every week. 

Each smile was breaking the wall around him.

Each time he put his hand on yours was him installing himself in your life.

And each kiss was you giving your heart to each other. 

These coffee dates were still a thing.

They just happened every day, at the place you were now sharing together.

And not only did you give him a lot of things already, you offered him the chance he thought wouldn’t come again, which he sadly accepted. 

To be a dad again.

You were four months pregnant, and it wasn’t always as easy as it seemed. Either the stress that comes from work or the fact Aaron still felt like he was too old for this, for you. But he was trying his best to make things as perfect as they could be. He was leaving the BAU earlier than before, and every day off was for Jack and for you. 

And every night, he made sure to have at least half an hour with you in the baby’s room to talk about the future.

But sometimes, dealing with both situations can be difficult. And today was another proof.

What was supposed to be a calm office day turned out to be more rough and animated. A new case came in the morning and turned out to be in town. 

Hotch was part of the team that went out to catch the unsub. He was going less on the field these days. There was a selfish reason behind that: he didn’t want to stress you or miss anything important with the baby. But the case being in Virginia, he took the opportunity to follow Spencer and Emily outside while JJ stayed with Penelope, like the good old days.

“God, I wish every case were as simple as this one.” Emily said when they came back to the car, the unsub was with the police officers. And Hotch had to admit it was pretty easy this time. He couldn’t wait to tell you about this one, how good it felt to be back there.

He could already hear you say something like, “We’ll tell our baby how their dad is a superhero,” which reminded him of when Jack used to see him like that. He hoped your baby would feel the same about him.

What if they hated him? What if they blame him for being away, for not doing enough? What if someone terrible happened to them because of his job?

Most of the time, Hotch managed to put these bad ideas away. And when he couldn’t, he found comfort in your arms. That’s what he needed right now.

He only had one thing to do: check on JJ and Penelope once he was back at the office to conclude his report and make sure everybody could go back home soon. Him included.

When Hotch entered Penelope’s office, he was welcomed by her confused and surprised face. “Sir? What are you doing here?” she asked. She got up and took a few steps towards him to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating.

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” he asked, even more confused than her. 

And the confusion just kept growing when he looked around and noticed Penelope was alone. “Where is JJ?” 

“Hmm, at the hospital?” From her tone, Hotch could tell that Penelope assumed he was supposed to know about her absence and the reason behind it. “[Y/N] called her?” This wasn’t a real question, because Penelope was there when you called. She heard you. But she couldn’t understand why she would know about that before Hotch.

And he couldn’t believe what he just heard. Sure, it made sense that you would call JJ if you needed help. She was one of your emergency contacts. But why wouldn’t you call him? 

Looking for his phone to check on you, Hotch realized his mistake.

He forgot his phone at his office. And spend the whole day assuming you were fine.

Before Penelope could explain the situation, or maybe she did, but he didn’t listen, Hotch ran to his office. He probably jostled some people in the rush, and there was a high possibility that he forgot to apologize. But it wasn’t his priority. Especially not when he grabbed his phone and saw the notification.

Six missing calls.

Around ten texts.

All from you.

You’ve got awful cramps when you wake up, and nothing would make them go away. You spent most of your day in bed, crying—which you didn’t tell Aaron, but he could hear the tears in your voice in one of your voicemails. You were asking him to come and bring you to the hospital to make sure the baby was doing fine.

But he never answered.

“I called JJ; she’s coming. Please don’t worry and text me when you see this. I love you,” said the last one.

When he dialed your phone, Hotch met your answering machine. 

He kept trying during the drive to the hospital. But all he could hear was your joyful voice asking to leave a message and that you would call back later. 

Never has Aaron needed to hear your voice so badly as right now.

The hospital wasn’t too far away from the bureau. Which didn’t prevent him from driving way above the limits. Not that he cared this time. 

Even if Aaron had prepared his speech in the car to appear calm, he lost his words right when he made his first step in the hospital. Being there was scary. Hopefully, when he arrived, the first person he saw was JJ. He rushed to her, almost scaring her from the way he grabbed her arm.

“Where is she? How is she? And the baby?” 

“Slow down, breathe for a second,” she replied, putting a hand on top of his to try and reassure him. “She is fine. And the baby too.”

The seven words that he needed to hear the most.

“I was supposed to bring her home, but she’ll be happy to have you.” JJ added with a sweet smile. If someone could understand Aaron’s position here, it was her.

Once she indicated to him the room you were staying in and he introduced himself to the nurse, Aaron rushed to meet you.

He was relieved to see you, for real. Sitting on the bed with your eyes closed. He took a second to look at you. Aaron hated that feeling in his stomach. He didn’t realize that until now, there was a quiet thought in his head saying that maybe he wouldn’t see you again. 

But you were there, looking better than he imagined you would. 

And when you opened your eyes and saw the man you love in front of you, you lit up the whole room with your eyes. “Aaron, you’re here!”

“Of course, I am,” he sighed, with a tired smile. He finally walked up to you and accepted the arms you were opening for him. It’s been a long time since a hug had felt this good for him. He let it go for a few seconds, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of having you close to him like that. He imagined you were home, in your bed, on a Sunday morning. Not at the hospital. 

Then everything hit him back. You, being sick and pregnant. Him, not being here for you.

Aaron kissed your forehead before cupping your face with his hands. “What happened?”

“The doctor said it wasn’t serious. Sometimes you get cramped and sick during the second semester. Basically, the baby is telling me to relax and stop overworking.” You replied with a soft laugh that wasn’t effective enough to stop him from frowning. “Love, we are both fine.”

“But I wasn’t there.” 

It hurt you how his voice sounded so sad. 

You heard Aaron speaking when he was physically hurt. And you already hated the way he would contain the pain by gritting his teeth, making his voice sound deeper and heavier. You always thought he was blaming himself for not being careful enough, which explained the tone.

But this time it was different. Aaron sounded like he hated himself for what he thought was a disappointment for you. But for him, mostly. His voice was broken, almost unintelligible. Like he didn’t want to be heard. And deep down, even if it was a part of his life you’d barely ever talked about, you knew where this was coming from.

"Aaron," you said softly, asking him to focus on you and not his pain. "I'm good. We're good.”

When he finally looked up to you, you met his red eyes. “These moments, they’ll happen again, you know.” 

He let out a sad sigh. “That’s not what I want.”

“I know, but you can’t blame yourself for that. This is your job. And we all accept it,” you said. You took one of his hands to put on your rounded belly. “She does too.”

Aaron opened his mouth to reply and argue on how this wasn’t the family dynamic he wanted for his second child. Not again. 

But no sound left his mouth. Which made you smile. This was exactly the reaction you expected from your so serious and composed boyfriend.

“She?” he finally replied, this time the glow in his eyes being replaced by happiness and surprise.

“The doctor did an ultrasound to make sure everything was alright. And this little princess inside finally decided to stop the mystery around herself.” You explained, but it would be a miracle if Aaron even heard you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction: his mouth open, his eyes going from yours to your belly like he was trying to comprehend what you said. “We’re having a baby girl, Aaron.” This time, you couldn’t contain your own tears.

This was all Aaron needed to put all his stress behind. He couldn’t think about his job and everything that came with it when now he knew that in a few months, he would hold in his arms the miracle he couldn’t wish for anymore. A daughter that will be the result of the love he had for you. A daughter that he will love as much as he loves you. As much as he loves Jack.

Even if he still couldn’t speak, you could tell he was as excited as you by the situation. But there was still one thing that was waiting to be clarified.

“And wanna know the best part?” you asked, slowly caressing your cheek. “She’ll be the biggest daddy’s girl and will always love you. When you’re home, at work, or away. You’ll hold a special place in her heart, forever, Aaron Hotchner.” 

Being an FBI agent and a dad was sometimes hard to combine. But Aaron knew that he was fighting alone to find the perfect balance between both. 

He had you. And a perfect family to make sure he was a great man and a great father.

[starlit-writer]

in sickness and in health, ch. 1 - alpha!simon riley x omega!reader

ah, look at that. have some omegaverse angst inspired by this post here <3 if you want to understand more about my omegaverse au, you can look at my masterpost here, and it'll help explain all of the intricacies that may or may not be explained well enough in these short-form fics!

well, this turned out to be miles longer than i expected it to. there's not really a solid ending, so let me know if you want more! have so much fun getting your heart ripped out <3

word count: 4,764 chapter two masterlist ao3 link

Three years ago, you and Simon got married. It wasn’t anything flashy or big - fuck, how could it have been when you didn’t even love each other? But, military law forbade an unmated omega from joining the ranks, and Simon was seen as a wild-card alpha, too headstrong and violent, too hard to control. So, the brass laid out an ultimatum: mate, get married, or be discharged. Both you and Simon had worked too hard for too long to get where you were, so discharge was entirely off the table. There was no courting, no dates, and the wedding, if you could call it that, was little more than signing papers - three signatures on a thick piece of A4 government paper, one from you, one from Simon, and one from your witness, Captain John Price. You didn’t even exchange rings or vows. It took less than five minutes. 

After all was said and done, you and Simon went back to your lives. Sure, you were respectful to one another, and you spent one or two heats and ruts together, but you both maintained a distance away from each other. Neither of you were thrilled with the idea of being tied down, of being mated. The mating bond between you felt more like the neck of a too-tight sweater than it did a comfort, feeling each other’s emotions more of a chore than something you looked forward to. Sure, you worked well together, fluid and deadly like a well oiled M2 on the field. Always had. But there was a stark difference between working well together, and being mated.

So that’s how you ended up here. You had lost twenty pounds. Your skin was sallow and pale, your eyes sunken in. When you looked in the mirror, you could count your ribs, the knobs of your spine, even when they were hidden under the bruises that bloomed across your sickly skin.

You had thrown yourself into work, and when there was no work, you were challenging any living thing to go for a round with you on the sparring mat. But, you were weak; the bond sickness sapped all of your energy and strength faster than you could ever hope to replenish it. Your scent, which was once a warm and spicy caramelized vanilla, now smelled like sugar burnt to the bottom of a pot - acrid and rotted. You were dying, and you knew it. But your pride was far too great to ever go crawling back to Simon, the very man who caused the sickness to infiltrate every cell of your being. It had been months of this torture. Simon, your alpha, had all but abandoned you. You had been without his touch, his scent, anything and everything that the very base instincts of your omega craved from its mate for far too long. It didn't matter to your omega that this marriage, this mating bond was nothing more than a way to keep both you and Simon in the service. Instincts couldn't be fought with fact, and now you were reaping the consequences of the neglect of the bond. You had thought bond sickness was a myth, a fear-mongering tactic to keep alphas in line. However, you were now aware that there was far more truth than you could have ever imagined to that story that is told. 

You had seen the concerned looks of your team as they watched you haunt the halls of the base like a spectre. Soap had started to bring you chocolates and drinks, anything in hopes to get you to eat. Gaz took a different approach, always being the one to take you up on your sparring requests, the beta knowing that at the very least he could be gentle with you while still giving you an outlet. The Captain had made sure to keep you off any truly strenuous missions and tasks, mainly relegating you to the medbay or to training recruits. If you were any stronger, you would be pissed, but right now you took it as a blessing. At least he hadn’t kicked you off the team for your weakness. But Simon? Simon was nowhere to be found. He continuously was the first volunteer for the most dangerous missions, keeping him away from base for weeks to months at a time. When he came back bloody and bruised, he would avoid the medbay like the plague, only coming in to get fixed up by another combat medic when he knew Soap or Gaz had forcefully pulled you away. If you two happened to be walking in the same hallway, Simon would duck out of your sight without even so much as a word. You had long since given up on running after him. 

So color yourself surprised when you were standing in front of the mirror in your bathroom and the screen of your phone lit up, a text from Simon blaring on the too-bright screen. You had every intention of ignoring it, but your pride was no match for the dying ache of your omega. 

Come to my quarters.

The text was simple. Demanding, even. And all it did was make you angry. 

You quickly tugged on a pair of sweats and forced a tank top over your bruised and feverish skin. You thought briefly for a moment about tugging a sweatshirt on over your mottled skin, but, fuck it, let him see all that he has done to you. Maybe he would give you the one blessing you had hoped for over the last few months of neglect, and finally sever the bond between you. 

You trudged through the hallways of the base, every soldier you passed giving you a wide berth. You were certain you looked like death froze over, and the rage-filled expression set over your brows and your lips certainly did not help. When you reached his door, you didn’t even bother to knock. You just shoved your copy of the key in the door and slammed the door open. 

Simon barely even looked up from where he was lounging on the bed. His shirt was off, a rare sight, even for you, but even more shocking was the fact that he wasn’t wearing his mask.  He didn’t look much better than you - his once-bronzed skin paled, his own scars raised and reddened, and he had a poorly bandaged bullet wound wrapped, the white medical wrapping blossoming with a red mark. Pulled stitches, definitely. 

“Close the door,” came the rough demand as his arms lazily opened in an invitation to lay with him. “And c’mere.”

You, in all of your rage, just stood stockstill in the still-open doorway. Even as your omega side cried to jump into his arms and let his scent and his touch wash away all the pain, you refused with a defiant jut of your chin. You didn’t know why he had called you here, and the only thing your mind could conjure up is that Price, or Laswell, or fuck, even Soap, had sat him down and forced him to do this. And you wanted nothing to do with this or with him if he actually was not trying to change.

“I don’t want your pity. And I sure as hell don’t want your affection just because Price told you that you had to fix me,” you replied, your voice shaking with weakness and pain, even as you tried your damndest to keep it steady, strong. 

Simon growled, the sound of an alpha not used to not getting his way, as he rolled onto his side to look at you more squarely. His arms were still open, but you could see the way his muscles clenched, his own anger rising. “It ain’t about pity. It’s about basic biology,” he bit out, the words short and angry. 

That made you laugh, the sound short and sardonic before it morphs into a cough that shakes your entire, frail being. You brought a shaking hand up to wipe your lips before you fixed him with a glare hard enough to freeze an ocean. “Basic biology?" you mocked. “Yeah, for sure. But it’s also basic biology to not let bond sickness even be a worry for your omega, but looks like you fucked that one right up, didn’t you!?”

Your words made something in Simon snap. Your rage, the vitriol, clenched his hands into fists as he quickly swung his powerful legs over the edge of the bed, crossing the space between you in the space between one of your breaths and the next. He was in your face now, just enough space between you to not be pressing completely against you. You averted your gaze, knowing that if you didn’t, you might continue yelling at him, or worse. 

“Look at me,” he ordered, using the same tone he does on the battlefield. His hands are still clenched into fists, but they are shaking. Why?

That tone made your eyes harden, the instincts of a hard-bred soldier kicking in. Even through the fraying of your bond, your sickness, you knew that voice. You listened when given an order. You allowed your head to loll back to look up at him, but your expression was still set in that same hard glare. You weren’t on a battlefield. You were on base, far away from the acrid explosions and hot gunpowder. How dare he pretend otherwise? “Why?” you bit back in response. “This isn’t some tactical decision, Simon. Don’t treat me like one of your fuckin’ rookies.” 

He took a sharp breath through his teeth, obviously trying to control himself. He knew you were weak, the bond sickness taking so much more from you than it ever did him. But your defiance, your spirit despite the bond sickness was making his alpha go crazy. Even with you glaring up at him, he stared down at you with fierce eyes as his hands gripped your hips, shoving you out of the doorway and pressing you against the wall right beside it. Taking one hand off of your hip, he shut the door with a resounding click before his grip, and his attention came back entirely to you. “I ain’t treatin’ you like a goddamned rookie,” he growled out, his cold brown gaze entirely focused on your own broken one as one hand slams into the wall by your head. Even through your rage, he can see it. Feel it. He had broken you. And that knowledge caused his alpha to writhe in pain. “I’m treatin’ ya like my fuckin’ omega.” 

As he caged you in, growled those words at you, your own expression hardened. Your lips curled up to reveal your smaller omega fangs, a low growl of your own reverberating from your chest as your hands clenched into fists. It’s hard to ignore the sheer size difference between the two of you as he towers over you, his head dipped low to keep your attention. However, that did nothing to stop your rage, in fact, it increased it tenfold. 

“Oh, right. I forgot. Being your omega means less than being one of your rookies, silly me.”

You knew the second the words left your mouth that you just opened a Pandora’s box. You saw it in the way his eyes instantaneously darkened, in the way his hand left the wall before you could even blink, his fingers crushing your jaw between them in a bruising grip, forcing your head back against the wall as he brought his face ever closer to yours. However, as his face got closer, you could see the glint of something else in his eyes. Triumph. His alpha was revelling in watching you snap and get fiery again. It was a victory, in his mind, to see you able to be so angry after the bond sickness had taken so much from you. “Watch it, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice low and gruff. “I know that attitude of yours will always be there, but careful.”

His words sent another wave of anger through you, and as he forced your head back, you jerked your neck, snapping your teeth at him, your small omega fangs glinting in the low light of his quarters. It was a clear message. Fuck the bond sickness, he had no right to touch you right now. You did not forgive him, and he has to work to even begin to earn that, and if he won’t? You would dissolve the bond without him, whether or not it risked your life. 

“Don’t sweetheart me,” you growled out, glaring up at him even as the bruising grip of his fingers squished your cheeks together, slurring your words. “Not after everything.”

His alpha instincts flared again, the desire to force you into accepting his help clear as his eyes flashed in irritation at your anger. He pressed you further into the wall, his body now flush against yours as he snarled right back. “Then do something about it,” he challenged. “Get mad. Fight me. Let it all out. But, you’re not leaving this room until you let me fix this.”

As much as you hated it, hearing Simon’s permission gave you the ability to let it all out. No matter how much you wanted to pretend that you were unaffected by him, the knowledge that he wanted you to fight, wanted to fix this broken bond between you, allowed you to finally and truly get all of the anger out, and maybe, just maybe, give the bond a chance to heal. 

And so you did. Your body jerked against his, your sallow cheeks flushing red as you bared your omega fangs and growled at him again. Your eyes held the faintest spark of life, a far cry from what they used to have, but there’s something there now. 

When Simon saw that spark, the faintest hint of his omega coming back, he chuckled gruffly, his eyes glinting with a possessive heat. 

“Yes, spitfire. I want you t’ fight me. Hit me, scream, yell at me, tell me how shit of an alpha I’ve been. I don’t care. Just don’t. Hold. Back.” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, the dam inside of you broke. Months worth of anger, agony, grief, pain, and aching sadness flooded your veins like a hot, volatile drug. It felt like a living, breathing thing as the emotions curled around your lungs, your muscles, your heart. Tears pushed at your lash line, the aching pain making itself known through the rage. 

You held his cold brown gaze for a moment, your eyes searching his. When all you saw in return was steely determination, you did the only thing you could think of. Before he could even move out of the way, you shut your eyes and cranked your head back as far as it would go, and drove your forehead straight into his nose. It wasn’t nearly hard enough to break it, but definitely hard enough to hurt and make the blood start flowing. 

He staggered back from you, his hands coming up to cup his nose, but the alpha was far from angry. In fact, he was grinning, the blood pouring from his nose coating his lips and teeth. A low growl of approval rumbled from his chest as he stared at you, approval glinting in his eyes. “Good girl,” he muttered lowly, the praise slipping through so naturally. 

As his praise washed over you, you felt your stomach flip. It shouldn’t feel that good. Not after the months and months of neglect so bad that you were literally dying. But, you couldn’t help the small ember of warmth that bloomed through your chest as that muttered praise of good girl flowed through your veins like a warm blanket settling over you. 

But, you were still angry. And hurt. And countless other emotions that you couldn’t even begin to name, all just culminating into a neverending ache. And as you saw the blood marring the plush flesh of his lower lip, something inside of you snapped. 

He had made his worst mistake. He had let go of you, and now you could truly fight. 

You crouched down, using your smaller stature and power legs to kick your leg out, and you swept it across the ground, knocking the much-bigger alpha off of his feet. You watched as his massive frame hit the ground, shaking the walls, a bloom of satisfaction erupting in your chest. Adrenaline was pumping through your veins now, the only thing allowing you to move, and before he had the chance to become reoriented, you were on top of him, straddling his hips as you punched at his chest. Your tears of anguish were falling freely now, sobs breaking free with your yells. 

“You have broken me! Broken! I used to be so strong, so happy, and you destroyed that! Ripped it away from me! All because you were too fucking caught up in your own shit, your own fucking fear, that you couldn’t even be half of the alpha you needed to be!”

Simon grunted in pain as his back collided with the cold, hard tile of his quarters, his hands automatically coming up to grab at your hips. Not to shove you off, no, but to keep you on top of him. He knew he deserved this. Every punch, every pointed word, every tear. It was his penance for all of the pain and agony he had put you through, even if it was ripping his heart to absolute shreds. 

“I know, I know,” he growled softly, his voice thick with regret. “I know I did.”

You shook your head, tears and snot flying from the force. You were so angry, so hurt, but the adrenaline was quickly running its course, leaving behind only bone-deep exhaustion and pain. Your punches slowly weakened, until you were barely able to lift your hands. Instead, they came to rest on his bare chest, your omega claws digging sharply into the thick muscle that covered his chest, one of your hands digging directly over his heart, needing him to feel a fraction of the agony that coursed through your own. 

“Don’t you agree with me! Don’t you dare! Gods, you do this to me for months, and you… you have nothing to say for yourself!? I tried! Tried to be a good spouse, a good omega! I tried to give you your space, to be unobtrusive, even though that killed my omega! And all I fuckin’ got in return is this fucking bond sickness that is killing me! Tearing me apart from the inside out!” 

His body shuddered as your claws dug into his chest, his skin breaking under the tiny points. It hurt in every way that it could, but the tiny pinpricks of blood that welled around your claws were nothing compared to how he had hurt you. He knew that he deserved this, every inch of your wrath, of your anger, and the pain it brought for him. It was the least he could do - to bear this for you. But, Gods, it didn’t stop your words from tearing into his heart in a way your claws couldn’t even begin to touch. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” he repeated, his words thick with the guilt that was threatening to choke him. “And I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry.”

His apology broke what little strength you had left. The bond between you was fraying, seconds away from snapping completely, and you had never felt more lost. A sob broke free from your lips, the force of the sound causing your body to lurch forward. But, Simon was there. For once, he was there. His chest caught your head, your tears wetting his skin almost instantaneously as your claws scratched down his torso, leaving thin, raised red lines down his scarred skin. 

He hissed softly in response to the pain, but he made no attempt to move, to shy away from it. You had completely given up on your ego, your omega so desperate for your alpha, no matter what he had done. But, you were still so hurt, your omega so wounded that you had no idea how you were going to come back from this. 

“Just… just tell me why. Why did you do this? Why did you treat me like this?” you sobbed out into his chest, your sour, distressed omega pheromones wafting around him like a shroud of despair. 

His alpha writhed in pain at your scent. It was wrong, so, so wrong, but he had done this. His neglect, his apathy, had taken his once strong, ferocious omega and reduced her down to this. He had never seen you like this. And he never wanted to again. He could feel the bond between you slipping between his fingers like shards of glass digging into his very being, and fear rose to take its place. He wrapped his arms around you, cradling your tiny, trembling form against him, his nose burying into your hair as he pressed a featherlight, shaking kiss into it. He swallowed harshly against the lump in his throat, his heart clenching in fear. In pain. In anger at himself. “I was a coward, love.” 

You sobbed harder against his chest at his admission, shaking your head jerkily. Your body felt like it was freezing and burning up at the same time, as the frayed edges of the bond dug into you like poisonous thorns. You could feel your mind shattering, your heart stuttering as the bond sickness continued to take hold. You were dying, and you knew it. But at this point, you would almost take death over the amount of pain you were in. “That’s not a good excuse,” came your shaking reply, the words thick with tears and agony, but they were strong with conviction. “Tell me why, Simon. Tell me why, or break the godsdamned bond.” 

The words that left your lips felt like they were suffocating the alpha. Break the bond. His arms tightened around you until you were completely pressed against him, and he could feel every shudder, every quiver in your weakening body. A low growl rumbles from his chest, the sound full of pain but also a desperate desire to comfort. He had to try - to even attempt to explain, even if he wasn’t sure it would do anything. But the thought of losing you without even trying made his heart shatter, his alpha howl in protest. 

“Because I was afraid,” he murmured, his voice thick with regret and honesty as his knuckles ran across the knobs of your spine. That caused him more pain than you would ever know, feeling how you had atrophied from his neglect. How his dismissal, his abandonment had caused his once strong, beautiful omega, to waste away before his very eyes. “Afraid of getting caught up in you, in this. Of loving you, of giving you part of my heart. I didn’t know how to keep you safe. I didn’t think I was worthy of having something like that, like you. I still don’t.” 

“Then break the bond,” you whimpered out, the pain of the bond sickness, of your own emotions, and what little of Simon’s you could still feel through the barest threads of the bond ricocheting through your body, reduced you to little more than a husk lying on top of Simon. Your heart was shattering along with the bond, the broken edges of each splintering in a way that made it hard for you to breathe. Your breath pushed and pulled achingly slowly through your chapped lips like broken glass, just another thing ripping your very being apart. 

“If you can’t do this… I’ll… I’ll figure it out. The brass’ll let me stay, at least for a little bit. But, I can’t… I can’t keep doin’ this. ‘M not asking for love. ‘M not asking to be a real marriage, but I can’t be apart of a bond where ‘m not… where ‘m not bein’ taken care of. I can’t.” 

Your words were slurring, little more than a broken and pain-filled whimper against his broad chest, and Simon could practically hear the way his heart shatters beneath you. He did this. He did this. And yet, the selfish part of him couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, no matter how much pain he had put you through. The alpha snarled as he wrapped his arms around your ever-weakening frame impossibly tighter, as if he was afraid that if he didn’t hold you tight enough, you’d slip away from him forever. 

“No, baby, no,” he replied softly, but the words were filled with a growl of conviction, of promise. “I was stupid. I was so stupid, and I hurt you. Let me… let me fix this, okay? Please, baby. Lemme fix you. Just for right now.” 

Simon was begging. You didn’t know if you had ever heard him beg before, but here he was, begging you to allow him the chance to fix you. Your exhausted, wounded omega perked up a bit at his conviction, but you couldn’t help but feel like this was far too little, far too late. “I… I don’t know, Simon. How can you… how can you fix this?” 

The pained gasps between your words drove a stake of fear through Simon’s heart, his alpha whimpering painfully. He swallowed harshly against the ever-growing lump in his throat, as he knew that he had to be the pillar of strength. If he broke right now, there was no hope for you. His lips brushed against the top of your head as he inhaled your sour, rotted scent in despair, his hands running up and down your back in a vain attempt to soothe you. 

“Let me… let me have a chance,” the alpha, your alpha, pleaded. “Please baby, let me fix this. I’ll do better, I promise. Gods, I’ll do anything. Just… just let me get you better,  baby, please. And then, if you still want to break the bond, we can, okay? Just… I can’t lose you. I can’t let you die. Not like this. Never like this.”

You felt, more than heard, his words wash over you. You could feel your body failing, the bond sickness taking what little was left of you. Even with Simon’s touch, with his promises, you had a brief moment of clarity where you just knew that this still might be it, that the bond had been strained too far, the cavernous distance between the two of you still too great, that this bond sickness might still kill you, despite his promises to fix you. 

You were so tired. So, so tired. The pain is too much, your eyelids too heavy, and it felt like what was left of your shattered heart wasn’t pumping nearly enough oxygen through your veins. You were teetering on the edge, and all you wanted to do was sleep. 

“Just… just let me sleep. In here. With you. Please?” you mumbled, the words soft and slurred. Any fight, any pride you had just a few minutes ago was long gone, and if you were going to die, your omega wanted it to be right here, in your alpha’s arms, taken peacefully in your sleep. “I need… just, please, Si.” 

Simon’s resolve shattered at the nickname that fell past your lips. He instantly sat up, gathering your frail, fragile body in his arms as he nodded, his own tears finally breaking free. 

His fault. All his fault. Always his fault. 

He quickly stood up, your body light (too light, too light) in his arms as he carried you to his bed. He was terrified. He could feel how slow your heartbeat was, how weak your body was, how slurred your words were. He shushed you softly, gently, but the sound warbled against his own tears. 

“Shhh, shhh, baby. I got you. I got you. Just… just sleep, okay? I’ll be right here. Right here. Never leavin’ your side again. I promise. I’ll be right here when you wake up. Just sleep.” 

He gingerly laid you on the bed, surrounding you with blankets and pillows, anything he could find that was drenched in his alpha scent, before his body came to blanket you. He couldn’t lose you. And he will keep his promise, even as his own silent tears fell down around your now-unconscious face. What’s that old saying? Oh, right. You never know what you have until it’s gone.

[annmariethrush]

Ugh I don’t have time to write the fic yet so here’s what keeps bonking around my brain

Jayce becomes Viktor’s internal monologue for taking care of himself and his chronic issues.

It takes months of observation before Jayce starts piping up when he knows Viktor is doing something that will cause him pain later.

First it’s just big things— moving him to the couch when he falls asleep on the desk. Getting him a rolling stool and then making him sit on it when he’s spent too long standing at the chalk board.

Then it becomes smaller things. When Viktor has his bad leg bent across his other knee, twisting his back and hip and leg all in the wrong direction, Jayce will come over with a chair and a pillow to prop it on. Jayce clears all of the top and bottom shelves in the lab, only having things that are within Viktor’s normal range of motion. He tuts when ever he hears Viktor get up to go across the lab briefly without his cane, not even looking up as he goes “nuh uh” until viktor sighs and picks the damn thing up. “It’s only 12 steps, Jayce, I can go 12 steps” “you make that walk 25 times a day. It’s adds up.” He’s even started setting an alarm for 2 pm every day where he makes them both stop and do stretches to combat the stiffness of sitting and writing for hours on end.

Slowly, viktor’s internal voice that tries to remind him that something he’s doing will make him hurt later shifts to sound like Jayce. “Be nice to yourself, V” “that’s gonna hurt later, don’t do that” “if you leave your leg like that you’ll have a hard time walking home.” Even things that Jayce has yet to see, like the correct configuration of pillows on his bed, the way that he has to lay his arms so that his back doesn’t tweak in his sleep, start getting corrected in his mind with a “nuh uh” instead of the usual “whatever”

By the first anniversary of their meeting, every thought he has that encourages him to be kind to himself comes in Jayce’s voice, Jayce being so synonymous in his mind with the desire to treat himself well and be mindful of his limits. Jayce has no idea how much of viktor’s routine now consists of choices fueled by the thought that Jayce would be disappointed if he knew he was doing something that would cause him pain later all because Jayce can’t help but love viktor until he loves himself.

[httpwintersoldier]

『 sweet little thing p.1 | b. barnes x reader 』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's real long okay, it even has parts summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 2 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

When you saw Andy he was simply... phenomenal. His eyes were big and blue, and the way their corners creased when he smiled was simply too much to bear.

You made it a point to become close to him - you swore up and down that your classmate would fall in love with you if he spent just enough time around you.

So you pretended to be dumb, and, because Andy was one of the top students in the university, it was only logical to ask him for help and form a study group.

It was all going well and dandy - you two hung out together nearly every day, studied and partied, and eventually went from colleagues, to friends, to very close friends.

Your plan was working perfectly... until one day. Until that one awful, magical day in which he invited you to study at his house.

Your whole body was trembling and the butterflies in your stomach wouldn't sit still as you drove to Andy's place, but the smile plastered on your face would let anyone know that, despite the nervousness, you were thrilled.

You took a deep breath and opened the car door, shutting it behind you before skipping over to the house's front porch and ringing the doorbell.

Silence. Nothing. Not a "I'm coming", not a "one second!", not even a single footstep. You checked your phone to make sure you were on the right address and that you had gotten the date correct before ringing the doorbell again, while anxiously biting your lip.

Suddenly, you heard heavy footsteps coming from the inside, and the white wooden door swung open.

"Who the f- oh, who are you?" The man's voice was rigid at first, but it softened and quieted as his eyes landed on your figure, in a little skirt and books tucked against your chest.

Your eyes widened in surprise. That man couldn't be anyone other than Andy's dad. His eyes were just as blue, and his voice was just the right amount of soft and rough as well. But there was something about him... Something that made your heart pound out of your chest. Maybe it was the short beard, the sweat dripping down his forehead, or the way his shirt hugged his biceps, but you were feeling something just about everywhere.

Andy was good looking guy but that... that was a gorgeous man.

"S-sorry sir, I'm Y/N. I'm Andy's friend he uh- we were supposed to study today."

"Were you now?" He grabbed the rag that was tucked away on the waist of his jeans and wiped his forehead "I'm sorry darlin' but the little shit hasn't come back yet, feel free to come in and wait for him though." The man said, stepping away from the door and giving you space to walk inside.

His tone wasn't rigid, but there was definitely an aura around him that demanded respect and that imposed authority. The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, but you smiled nevertheless.

"I wouldn't want to impose, I can come back later, Sir!" You shyly replied, as it was clear that the man was working and he had no idea he was about to receive visitors.

"Aren't you a sweet little thing, I wish all of Andy's friends were like you. It's no trouble, really. It's the least I can do for you in this situation." He said with a chuckle.

You smiled and walked into the house and right past the man, hoping he missed the blush that crept up on your face and the nervousness that made your legs shake.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Barnes!"

The man nodded in response and pointed you to the living room before disappearing somewhere in the house.

Minutes passed by and the clock on the wall ticked as you were left by yourself for who knows how long. You had plenty of time to look around, although there was not much to look at - the house was barely decorated, only a few framed pictures here and there, everything else was the strictly necessary furniture. The living room was but a couch, a reclining chair, a nice plasma TV and a coffee table with circular stains (from the lack of coasters, no doubt). Andy had once mentioned that his parents were no longer together, and that was obvious from the looks of the house - it was clearly a man-cave.

An hour had passed by when Andy's dad emerged from the back of the house once more, his forehead shining with sweat as he wiped his greasy hands on a rag.

He lifted his head and the man's eyebrows furrowed as his eyes met yours.

"Where is Andy?" He simply asked, in a monotone voice.

You swallowed thickly, almost nervously, as if you had done something wrong.

"I... I'm not sure, Sir. He hasn't answered my texts."

The male sighed and his features softened - you couldn't tell if he was annoyed that a stranger was still in his house or if he was irritated that his son had invited someone over and left them alone.

He opened his mouth to say something else but, as if on cue, Andy burst in the door.

"Hey dad there's a car in the- oh hey Y/N, what are you doing here?" The boy asked when his eyes landed on your figure sitting on the couch.

"We had agreed to study today." You said, holding up the books you had brought with yourself.

"No, we had agreed to study on Tuesday."

His dad walked over to him and smacked him on the head - it wasn't hard enough to hurt, but it was rough enough for Andy to understand he was being reprimanded.

"Which is today, dipshit. And where's your phone?"

Andy's eyes widened and he facepalmed.

"Aw man, is it!? I'm so sorry, Y/N!" Andy knelt in front of you, staring at you with those steel blue eyes "I will make it up to you, I promise."

But suddenly, those turquoise orbs that you came to love so much, did not have the same effect on you, as you had somehow found a more beautiful pair to stare into.

You had spent the week getting flashbacks of the small exchanges you had had with Andy's dad - the way his muscles flexed at every little movement, the way his hair fell over his face ever so slightly, and his piercing blue eyes, that gave such a rugged man an almost angelic look.

You felt guilty for the amount of thoughts you had about the man, especially when you were constantly hanging around Andy, but you couldn't help the effect he had on you, it was like poison slowly taking over your body.

"Why don't you come over for dinner, Y/N? I'm cooking tonight and I still owe you an apology for the other day." Andy invited, as you walked to your class.

You bit your lip - free homecooked food was not something you wanted to decline, but you wondered if stepping back into that house was wise, as more interactions with "Mr. Barnes" would bring your infatuation to a new level, you were sure.

"Come on! If you decline free food it means you were never really angry at me."

You rolled your eyes and eventually agreed, convincing yourself that it was nothing but a stupid schoolgirl crush that would eventually go away.

You were nervous throughout the rest of the day, for no reason at all. You didn't even know if Mr. Barnes would be home, you didn't even know if you were going to interact with him, but for some reason that beautiful gaze of his was burned into your mind.

Andy didn't find your silence too weird, as he just thought you were still angry at him - and he hoped that that night's dinner would bring your friendship back to normal.

After classes were done, you stopped by your place so you could shower and change clothes after a whole day of sweating. You stood in front of your closet, towel wrapped around your body as you wondered what you should wear, your eyes landed on a miniskirt. Usually you'd wear something sexy to catch the eyes of a certain boy, but this time you knew you'd be wearing it to catch someone else's attention. It felt wrong, it made you feel somewhat guilty, for some reason, and yet you still picked up the skirt and put it on.

Andy must've been busy with the cooking, because when you rang the doorbell it was Mr. Barnes who opened it for you. It hard to contain the smile (and the attraction you felt for him) as his eyes traveled down your body and landed on the little skirt you wore.

This time he wasn't as sweaty and dirty (to your slight displeasure), he wore a dark pair of jeans and a light shirt, with its sleeves rolled up until his elbow.

"Hello, Sir." You greeted politely.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he stepped away from the door, granting you passage.

"Hello, darlin'. You can just call me James." He said as you entered the house.

You can just call him James. You didn't know how to feel about that, there was a certain appeal in calling him "Sir", as if you were recognizing that he was somehow superior to you, more worthy of respect and authority.

"Of course S- James." You said, nonetheless, correcting yourself immediately.

"Andy's right down there in the kitchen." James said with a smirk.

You thanked him and followed the direction in which he had pointed to, and you found Andy, and a mess of onion and potato peels around him, as well as chunky and uneven cut carrots and a poorly de-boned chicken.

As you watched the boy struggle, you felt a presence behind you - James Barnes. You looked up at him, to find him staring at his son with a mix of confusion and disgust on his face.

"Hey, buddy, the chicken is already dead." He mocked.

Andy looked over his shoulder to find the two of you staring at him, and he looked... stressed, to say the least. It was clear that he didn't know how to cook whatever he was trying to cook, that the only reason why he asked you over was to impress you, and he had failed.

His dad laughed and walked over to him, patting his shoulder.

"Go wash up kid, I can finish up."

Andy looked like he had just seen his guardian angel, he thanked his dad and glanced at you.

"I'll be right back just- I'm going to take a shower." The boy ran past you and you couldn't help but giggle at the disheveled state of the ever-composed Andy Barnes.

However, when he left, you were painfully aware that you were once more left alone with the man you had been picturing in your mind the whole week.

"Do you need help, James?" The name rolled off your tongue with such ease, it felt natural, and for some reason it aroused you, as if calling him by his name expressed some sort of closeness.

The man glanced at you, and then at the counter - you could see the conflict in his eyes.

"You're a guest, don't worry about it."

You had been invited by his son, and the last thing he wanted was to have someone invited over to do housework, but you couldn't stand back and relax while he looked so overwhelmed. So, you rolled up your sleeves and began pooling together all of the peels and unusable parts that were laying on the counter.

"It's no problem, really." You told him with a smile as you carried the stuff you had collected to the trash.

Unbeknownst to you, the male's eyes fell to your legs as you walked away, and he muttered a small "fuck" under his breath as you bent over the trash. Your skirt rode up dangerously, and he had to force his gaze away from your figure. Obviously your outfit hadn't gone unnoticed by the man...

There wasn't much of an exchange between the two of you before Andy came down the stairs running, hair still slightly damp. The man focused on finishing dinner and you set the table, to pass time and fill in the awkwardness.

"Sorry! Sorry for leaving you with him again." The boy said as he came into the room.

"I will ground you." The man retorted, playfully.

You giggled at the joke and glanced at how mesmerizing Mr. Barnes looked, even from the back.

"Sorry Sarge!" Andy said and you cocked your head to the side.

James turned around to put the food on the table, and Andy took it as an opportunity to hook his finger around the chain around his neck, bringing the dog tag that was hidden under his shirt forward - you didn't miss the way it flashed some of the male's naked chest.

"He was an army brat and then joined the army and became a Sergeant. I wanted to join too but dad didn't let me." Andy explained, as you all began taking your seats around the table.

A soldier... That would explain the brooding and the serious expression, and it would further explain the way his presence alone demanded respect and exuded authority. It somehow made him even more desirable, if that was even possible.

"What would you even do there, Andy? You couldn't chop a carrot, never mind shoot a gun." You joked.

Andy's face grew red with embarrassment and his dad left out a hearty laugh.

You couldn't stop the smile from spreading on your face, for some reason you felt proud for making the male laugh. Andy protested your joke, but you didn't listen, as your eyes were glued to the dog tag, trying to read it.

"James B. Barnes..." You said to yourself, as you thought about what the "B" stood for.

"Bucky."

You eyes snapped up and you met the male's gaze, it was piercing and there was a mixture of emotions to them, they were curious and had a glint of playfulness, like a big dog staring at the newly arrived kitten.

"S-sorry?" You asked, not gathering what he meant.

"The 'B', it stands for Buchanan, or Bucky for short."

You blushed deeply, and you could feel the heat on your face as apparently you had said his name quite loud.

The glances you exchanged throughout the dinner were brief, and both of you wondered if there was something more to them, but, due to the fact that he was you dad's friend, the two of you just dismissed it as fragments of their imagination.

The dinner had been disastrous. Well, it had gone wonderfully, which was terrible, because your head was filled with constant images of your supposed crush's father.

Your head was spinning constantly, and your (romantic) interest on Andy had been reduced to basically nothing. You couldn't stop thinking of his eyes, his smile, his gaze, his muscles, his... everything. And the thoughts only got dirtier and dirtier as the clock ticked, each hour making your mind delve deeper into your perverted fantasies.

You refused to touch yourself to image of your close friend's father, it was wrong, but one day the images in your mind seemed too real, you were so desperate you could swear you almost felt his rough hand softly exploring your inner thighs, travelling upwards and upwards. You flipped the covers off of yourself and put on a pair of shorts as you headed out for some air.

You walked with no destination, but you remembered there was a convenience store nearby, and you decided to stop by - maybe a late night snack and a late night walk would make you sleepy enough to fall right asleep once you headed back, but oh how wrong you were.

You greeted the cranky cashier as you walked in and made your way around the store, looking for something that would catch your eye, but, to your surprise, you found a different kind of snack hidden in the back.

Standing in front of the beer cases was none other than James Buchanan Barnes, with one hand on his hip as he brushed his hair back with the other hand. His jeans were riding terribly low, and when he lifted his arm to fix the rebel strands of hair, he revealed the waistband of his underwear, like the ribbon of a gift you desperately wanted to unwrap.

He lived nearby, and you wondered if you had crossed paths before and you just hadn't noticed him, or if it was the universe toying with you.

You realized you had been standing there, staring like a creep, and he had probably noticed someone was in the same aisle, so you decided turned on your heels and walked towards the cookie aisle.

You had spend a couple minutes biting your lip and admiring all of the different flavours, before deciding on the Oreos at the very top of the high shelf.

Just as you struggled, standing on your tippy toes and reaching for the item, someone came behind you and grabbed a pack. Their hand was on your waist, and their chest directly behind you. You turned around, coming face to face with none other than Bucky, the man you were trying to hard to avoid. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you wanted nothing more than to grab the hand that had grabbed your waist and place it lower on your body.

You breathed in deeply, inhaling his manly musk, a faint smell of fresh laundry and deodorant, nothing too strong like most guys in your college whom you could smell a mile away.

"Hey darlin', what're you doing out here so late?" He asked as he took a step back and handed you your snack.

"Hi! I couldn't sleep, it's uh... it's too hot." It wasn't entirely false, but he didn't need to know where that heat resided, or who was the cause for it.

Your fingers brushed against his as you took the Oreos from him, and adrenaline shot through your body. Every single one of his touches left a fire in your body, one that he started and only he could put out.

"Yeah? Me either." There was a certain sadness in his tone, but he quickly changed the subject. "Are you here all by yourself?"

"Uh, yeah, I am."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed together and he seemed to be deep in thought for a second. He had it in his nature to take care of everyone around him, and the situation simply didn't seem right in his mind.

"Let me drive you home, it's getting real late and it's dark out there."

You desperately wanted to take the offer, but you couldn't - not only did you not want to be a bother, you also didn't want your forget-about-Bucky walk to turn into a more-Bucky-content walk.

"Thank you, Mr. B- James, it's okay, really."

"Are you sure?" Bucky asked, feeling uneasy.

He had no authority over you, but it didn't feel correct to let a young woman walk alone in the middle of the night.

"Yeah, no worries James, thank you for the offer."

"Have yourself a good night then, darlin'." He said, with a small smile.

"You too, sir!"

You mentally cursed yourself for calling him "sir" again as you turned around and made your way to the cashier - old habits die hard.

As you left the store, you glanced back to steal another look at Bucky's ethereal appearance, and you wondered if you should have just given in and let him take you home.

"Hey there, wanna do something fun, princess?" A voice snapped you out of your fantasies, and, when you realized, three guys had surrounded you.

They weren't huge or muscled by any means, but they were tripled in number, so you felt a little uneasy in their presence.

"Come on baby, why don't we take you home, huh?" The tallest one of the trio asked, stepping forward.

"I'm- I'm good, thanks."

"Don't look so scared, we don't bite." He got closer to you, so that he could whisper "Not unless you want us to."

As you stood there, frozen in fear, the crew shared a collective laugh. The laughing stopped rather quickly, and their faces morphed from entertained and amused, to serious ones. You didn't understand what was happening, but as you took one step back, you bumped into someone's chest. You looked up to find none other than Bucky. His eyes were devoid of that twinkle and glisten that you fantasized about, they were dark and clouded by rage.

He said nothing before taking your arm and pulling you to stand behind him.

"I wanna do something fun. I think I know just how much fun the four of us can have." The male said, walking towards them until he was face to face with the guy that had whispered in your ear.

There were three guys versus just one Bucky, but their three scrawny figures stood no chance against a man like James Barnes.

"Ay, let's- let's bounce y'all." One of them said, in the back, pulling his friends back by the forearm.

"Yeah, I think it'd be best if you three 'bounced'." Bucky mocked, never letting go of the eye contact.

Once they were out of sight, the man turned around to face you, placing his hands on your arms.

"Are you okay? Darlin'?" One of his hands slid up your body as he grabbed your chin and tipped it upwards, so his worried eyes could look into your shocked, fearful ones.

"F-fuck..." You finally said, brushing your hair back in frustration.

You could finally breathe, and you felt like Bucky had just rescued you from the claws of a wolf.

"Thank you s- James. Thank you so much." You muttered, and Bucky breathed out in relief. "I shouldn't have-"

"Hey, none of that. You were living your life and what happened isn't your fault. Let's get you home, okay?" The man said, cutting you off and preventing you from potentially blaming what happened on any of your actions, which made you smile shyly and nod along to his question.

You followed Bucky to his truck. He offered you his hand so you could get on the seat as it was quite high, and his eyes shamelessly trailed down your body once more. The man had to turn his head to the side until you had climbed onto the seat.

Aside from giving him directions to your place, the trip was rather quiet.

"Are you okay?" Bucky asked, as he took one of your hands and placed his free hand on your hip while helping you out of his truck once you had arrived to your house.

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks for... that, back there."

"No need to worry darlin'. You uh- text me, or call me, if you're ever in trouble. Andy told me your parents live away from the university, so hit me up if you ever need anything."

Andy had told him... You wondered if Bucky asked or if the son had simply volunteered that information. Nonetheless you took the card he extended you - it was a business card with Bucky's Garage written on it, and his phone number under it.

You blushed intensely and your mind became foggy for a second, as you acknowledged that the man had just handed you his number.

"Thank you. I will, James."

After that encounter, you didn't see Bucky for over a week. The frequency with which he visited your mind, however, increased by the hour. It seemed like the saying "out of sight, out of mind" had no real meaning when it came to dirty thoughts involving James Barnes.

Nine days after the fact, Andy asked you and a couple other people over to watch basketball. It was a small group of four boys, including Andy, and two girls, you and a really sweet girl whom you had grown closer to, since you hung out together often because of the guys.

You knew Bucky would be there, which made choosing an outfit much more difficult. Should you dress normally!? Should you try to tease him further? Would you want to continue feeding this silly fantasy of yours?

Your eyes skimmed the closet, eventually landing on a cheerleading outfit - it was a small skirt and a long sleeved crop top, both with a colour scheme that matched your town's basketball team's. You had bought it for halloween once, for an undead cheerleader look, and you were seriously considering it.

Your mind raced with several contradicting thoughts, but you eventually picked it up and tried it on.

"Should I? Maybe it's too much... I mean, they will be wearing team jerseys, so it wouldn't be too farfetched to wear this. Or would it?" You were talking to yourself like a crazy person as you looked at your reflection in the mirror.

Eventually, you decided to text the other girl who was invited, in hopes of getting some honest feedback, before asking what she was thinking of taking as an outfit. You snapped two photos, one from the front, and one from your back, so she could properly see the length (or lack thereof) of your skirt.

You: is this too slutty to take to his house or does it look good? (2 attachments)

You put your phone down but it vibrated again as soon as it touched the mattress.

"I don't think the text was for me, darlin', but for the record, it looks good."

"minors do not interact" banner credit: @cafekitsune

[wtfaniii]

Hii could I do a request :) if so could you do a front max x niece reader where she’s me hot cops daughter and she goes looking for him:) and at the cliff he reveals himself and she’s feeling so many emotions because she looked up to him a lot and him and his wife basically raised her because mr hot cop had he quite young

I hope this makes sense Tysm !!

Love your work :)

I love this idea, lots of drama and the reader would practically be in Jun-ho's place as In-ho's searcher.

Tough Decisions, Strong Wills

Summary: At sixteen you should be painting your nails, sneaking out to parties and making all kinds of changes to your hair, but no, you were standing on the edge of a cliff with a gun in your hands and suffering a great disappointment from someone you always admired.

Warnings: Only drama, angst and sentimentality

Hwang In-ho (Front man) x fem reader niece

It was almost midnight and the rain had just begun to fall on the street when a knock on the Hwang couple's door interrupted their peace.

In-ho walked to the door and opened it to find his eighteen-year-old brother, sweating and holding his seven-month-old baby.

—She has a temperature and I don't know what to do —Jun-ho said, panting from exhaustion and stress.

—Give it to me —he said calmly, taking his niece in his arms.

He then invited Jun-ho into his house, it was not the first time his brother had come at unwise hours to ask him and his wife for help.

But he was always willing to help him, he knew he was young to do this task on his own after his sister-in-law ran away leaving him with the burden of a daughter.

—You like to upset your father —In-ho said with slight mockery, leaving the baby in his wife's arms, she was also willing to help.

—I'm flattered that you consider us more trustworthy than a doctor —The woman smiled warmly at the infant as she rocked her to sleep and walked to his room for some medication.

[...]

The night breeze hit your face, the sweater you were wearing was a great help but your school skirt left your legs exposed to the cold.

Once again your cell phone vibrated in your pocket, you took it out and saw the photo of your father, you turned it off and looked up again at surroundings.

It was almost one in the morning, Jun-ho was desperate to locate you, you had not returned home after school and that alarmed him, however, his boss was not willing to help him in your search because it was not the first time you escaped.

But it would be the first time that you would not return for a long time.

You loved your father but after the disappearance of your uncle In-ho and the death of your aunt it affected your family so much that Jun-ho immersed himself in his work and you in your unstoppable search for In-ho.

You were outraged by the fact that Jun-ho didn't talk about the subject with you, you thought he didn't care but you were wrong, he, like you, also tried hard to find him.

But when he didn't get anywhere he decided to focus on you, In-ho wanted that but he didn't count on you being so focused on finding him.

You didn't have any friends, missed a lot of classes, spent most of the day on the street and you had gadgets that a girl your age shouldn't have access to.

It was surprising and he even felt proud but you were taking it too far.

Now you wait for a limousine to pass by you while look at the curious card with three figures in your hands.

You weren't planning on entering those damn games, you wanted to infiltrate, you suspected that In-ho was related to this after finding a similar card in his apartment.

It was difficult but after dedicating a whole year to this you were finally close, you felt it, the salesman even talked to you out of simple curiosity, the man found it intriguing and curious how a girl of your age managed to find his organization in such a short time.

As you got into the vehicle that was driven by people dressed in pink and wearing masks with circles, you held your breath as much as could so that you wouldn't be knocked out by the smoke they released with you and the other people inside.

You were smart and agile, infiltrating as just another soldier was an easy task, now you just had to find out everything you could about these games.

You mentally thanked your father for teaching you how to use weapons and fight to defend yourself, if not you would surely be dead already.

You had found out many things, including that In-ho participated in these games and won, but if they had given him all that money ¿Where was he now?

You took photos and videos of everything but now you were running for your life on the island with those soldiers and the front man following you, you were wet from trying to swim away, how stupid, you were far from civilization, your breathing was labored and were trying to find some signal to send all that evidence to your father.

—Damn shitty cell phone —You grumbled when you didn't get a single bar, you'd be lying if said you weren't distressed, of course you were, you didn't want to die.

When you heard a shot near where you were, yoy kept running to try to hide, but it was impossible and reached the edge of a cliff.

You looked down, there were only rocks and the tide.

You kept your gun in left hand and turned around pointing it forward when you heard those masked men approaching you.

—Don't come closer, I already sent all the evidence to the police station — You threatened with lies, raising the cell phone and showing them some photos.

—The signal here is poor —said the masked man dressed in black and gray —And your battery died.

You cursed under breath as you saw that it was true, your cell phone was now dead.

The front man took a step closer to and you pointed the gun in your shaking hand at him.

—One more step and I'll kill you —You threatened again even though you still weren't able to kill a fly and he knew it.

—I can tell from your posture and the sweat on your hands that you've never shot a person before.

Hearing you cut the cartridge In-ho stopped, maybe you were able to shoot, you were scared and obviously were going to defend yourself.

When he called your name you paled and took a small step back.

—¿How do you know who I am?

Front man didn't answer anything, he just slowly raised his hands towards his head so you wouldn't feel threatened, he lowered his hood and finally took off his mask.

Your eyes widened in disbelief and your hands hesitated for a few seconds but you maintained your stance with the gun facing him.

—You....

In-ho was standing in front of you, with an expressionless face and the coldest eyes you had ever seen in him, you wanted to scream in helplessness.

You had so many questions, you were overwhelmed and the worst thing was that you didn't know what to do, you couldn't shoot him, you didn't want to, but he was the leader of all this, you saw so many people die in so few days and knowing that he was behind it all made your heart break.

You admired him, he and your aunt had been with you for as long as could remember so they had become your inspiration, you wanted to be like him.

Now you just needed a hug from your father.

In-ho remained silent, he didn't want to overwhelm you more than you already were, he just extended a hand towards you for you to take, you were very close to the shore and it gave him goosebumps.

—Put down the gun —He said calmly and staring at you.

You hesitated for a few moments, not knowing what decision to make and the tears in your eyes threatened to overflow.

In-ho really wanted you to hold his hand, otherwise he would have to kill you and he didn't want it to end like this.

—Please put it down —He repeated.

You finally made a decision.

You slowly lowered the gun and took a few steps forward to take him hand.

As soon as he had you close he hugged you affectionately, deep down he was amazed by everything you did for him, it was nice to know that there was still someone in his family who was willing to go this far for him.

—I missed you so much... —You whispered through tears, hugging him tightly as well.

—I know, I know... it's okay

He let you vent, you were still wondering if this was for the best, you had been missing for six days, you were sure your father was losing his mind.

But In-ho was very important to you, he and your aunt had heard your first word, your first steps and you perfectly remember that father-daughter school dance that Jun-ho couldn't go to because he would be presenting a project at his academy, In-ho went with you to that dance.

—You'll be fine... —In-ho whispered to you as they walked away from the edge of that cliff.

[...]

It had been three years since you disappeared and people were judging Jun-ho regarding his sanity.

—¿Are you sure you don't want to return to your post? You were the best here and...

He interrupted his boss by getting up from the chair in front of his desk.

—You didn't help me when I told you that my daughter was lost, you thought it was just another insignificant action of hers.

He was hurt, he still had hopes of finding you and In-ho again now that he had found all the information you gathered under your bed but he couldn't afford to trust his police unit again.

Not wanting to continue talking to his ex-boss, he left there. There wasn't a day that he didn't look for you, you were his only daughter and even though most people told him that you were already dead, he refused.

Even when they found your school backpack with all your things inside on the riverbank, he had a feeling that you were still alive and not underwater like most people told him.

Not knowing if you were okay, if you were eating, if you were happy, sad or scared was killing him every minute.

His only chance now was Seong Gi-hun.

Jun-ho would find you, you and an in-ho.

[grimeshound]

UNDER YOUR SPELL.

word count: 4,329 (someone got a little carried away...)

pairing: in-ho x you.

summary: you haunt in-ho’s every thought, an obsession he can’t shake no matter how hard he tries—you have no idea the hold you have on him. when you get drunk for the first time, in-ho seizes the opportunity to show you just how deeply you’ve affected him.

cw: 18+, age-gap, dubcon (forced intoxication), mirror sex, first time, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, stomach bulge, semi-public sex, dirty talk, corruption, manipulation

a/n: i’ve had this plot simmering in my head over the past few days ever since i wrote my in-ho hcs and it was practically begging to be written … manipulative in-ho my beloved

---

Ever since he first laid eyes on you, In-ho thought you were the prettiest little angel to ever step foot in this hellhole.

You were nothing like the others. Kind, wide doe eyes, sweet smile that radiated innocence. He wondered how a pretty thing like you had ended up in a place like this. In-ho always did pride himself in his appreciation for the arts, all things with beauty. The moment he took notice of you, it didn’t take long for him to wonder what it would take to make you his.

You had joined a small group, after having met a kind man named Jung-bae who graciously let you in. Everyone shared their names, and that’s when you learned his. Oh Young-il. Except, of course, that wasn’t his real name. Just a guise, a character to play during the time he spent amongst the players. That didn’t matter, though, since you rarely used his name. 

“Sir,” you’d say. The times you did call his name, it’d be “Mister Young-il.”

The first time you spoke to him, you were nervous. It was hard not to be, something about his piercing gaze had a hold on you. Yet, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way you looked up at him, your voice so soft and deferential, made his pulse quicken. He’d do anything to protect you, and he did. Each time the games forced you apart, you’d come running to him the moment you returned to the main hall, your face lighting up with relief.

“I’m so happy you’re okay, sir.” You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, gentle and reassuring.

You hadn’t realized it, but your attachment to him was carefully orchestrated, a product of all the high-risk situations In-ho would engineer to put you through. He’d swoop in at the perfect moment to save you, it made you trust him, made you depend on him more than anyone else. It also nurtured the little crush you were already dewasveloping, and he noticed. You couldn’t help it. He  kind to you, protective, and so devastatingly handsome.

Behind the scenes, he dug through your file. Orphaned from a young age, too naive to understand the world’s cruelties. Trusting the wrong people, you had fallen into debt, landing here. The more he learned, the more he was convinced—You needed someone to take care of you. Someone like him.

One night, In-ho just couldn’t take it anymore. After hours of keeping up his cold, calculated facade, he found himself teetering on the edge of his own sanity. The stress of orchestrating the games was always a burden he bore in silence. But lately? It wasn’t just the carnage and strategy that weighed on his mind. On top of all that, now there was you. Every stolen glance, every soft word you uttered, every moment in your presence had burrowed under his skin. You consumed him, invading every thought until there was no room for anything else.

He knew he was losing control.

When the last murmurs of conversation faded throughout the main hall and the players around him drifted into an uneasy sleep, he finally gave in to his impulses. He had a guard sneak him a bottle of soju, not caring how inappropriate or risky the request was. Rank had its privileges, and he wasn’t above abusing them.

Even in the dim light he spotted you, laid in your bed not too far from his own. All curled up and completely unaware of the monster disguised as your guardian angel watching over you. He swallowed thickly, his jaw clenching as he tried to steady his breathing. 

He listened to the sound of your breathing as a guide, the quiet rhythm of inhale and exhale filling his ears before finally pulling the bottle from its hiding place beneath his pillow. With a sharp twist, he uncapped it, the faint scent of alcohol wafting into the air around him. Sitting up in his bunk, he took a long, deliberate swig. The burn of the soju as it slid down his throat was a welcome distraction, albeit temporary. He exhaled, running a hand through his disheveled hair.  

The alcohol dulled the edges of his stress but sharpened something far more dangerous, far sicker. Desire. Thoughts of you came to surface before he could resist, vivid and unrelenting. He thought of your wide, trusting eyes looking up at him, the way your voice wavered when you spoke his name. He didn’t stop his thoughts when they turned more and more depraved. Your quiet utters of his name turning into obscene moans, innocent brushes of skin escalating into him fucking you like a madman into the crummy bed he sat beneath. The way you clung to him, so innocent, so naive, so completely unaware of just how sick his thoughts would turn because of you. 

He took another long swig, his grip tightening around the bottle as his frustration intensified. How could you do this to him without even realizing? Without even trying? It was maddening, the hold you had over him. And now, with the liquor loosening his usually taut held control, he found himself wondering how much longer he could resist. How much longer he could keep his hands to himself.

And then, as if summoned by his desires, your voice broke the silence.

“Sir?”

He turned to see you turned towards him, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. He softened instantly, smiling lazily as he called your name. “You’re awake?”

“I couldn’t sleep.” You climbed up to his bed without hesitation, settling beside him. “What about you?” 

“Me neither,” he murmured. He thanked whatever god there was that you couldn’t read his mind, couldn’t take a peek into the sick fantasies that had clouded up his thoughts just moments ago. Even now, when sat face to face with you, they played in the background— like a channel he couldn’t turn off no matter how hard he’d press the remote. Only, he didn’t make much effort in stopping them. If anything, the fantasies only shot up with you now in front of him. 

Your attention was soon drawn to the green bottle in his hand. “Is that… soju?”

He chuckled at your amazement. “It is.”

“Wow,” you breathed. “I’ve never had any before.”

His heart skipped. You really were too good to be true, weren’t you? He feigned surprise. “Never?”

You shook your head. “No. But..” You hesitated for a bit. “I’d like to try, if that’s okay.”

How polite. How trusting. He handed the bottle to you, hiding his smirk beneath a kind, patient smile. “Of course. Go ahead.”

You took it with both hands, your fingers brushing his briefly. There was a moment of hesitation, a fleeting glance at him as though you were silently asking for reassurance. He gave you a small nod, his expression warm and encouraging. Uttey deceptive. The thought of getting you completely wasted, rendering you impossibly dumber and even more impressionable than you already are rang like music to his ears. You tilted your head back as you gulped down more than he expected. He didn’t stop you, though. Simply watching with quiet satisfaction as you drained a sizable amount.

The first sip had your nose scrunching up, the bitter taste of the alcohol overhwleming you. Instead of backing out, you pressed on, curiosity and his approving gaze egging you on. With each gulp, you felt your body tense slightly at the unaccustomed burn that slid down your throat.

In-ho watched you intently, his dark eyes locked on you as the bottle tipped higher and higher. You were drinking far more than he expected, but he made no effort to stop you. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his lips quirking into a faint smile. Quiet satisfaction flickered in his eyes as he watched your determination to please him override your inexperience.

When you finally lowered the bottle, your lips were shiny from the liquid, your cheeks already beginning to flush, something In-ho was quick to take notice of. Whether it be your inexperience, the quickness of which you downed the Soju or the fact that you haven’t really drank or ate much prior. The alcohol had hit you harder than you anticipated, working its way through your system with worrying speed. Your head tilted back slightly as you tried to regain focus, blinking up at him with worried, glassy eyes. 

“Sir,” you murmured, your voice trembling. “I feel…so funny.”

He stepped closer, his hand moving to steady you by your waist when your knees buckled slightly. “Funny how, sweetheart?” he humored you, the concern in his tone carefully crafted.

“Dizzy,” You clung to him instinctively, your hands gripping his arm like a lifeline as you specified. “I feel lightheaded, mister Young-il. M’scared.”

“Shh,” he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. His hand slid to your back, rubbing soothing circles as he held you steady. “It’s okay. You’re just not used to it, s’all.”

Your forehead rested against his chest, your breath uneven as you tried to make sense of the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. He tilted his head slightly, looking down at you with something twisted in his gaze, though his voice remained tender and reassuring. “Poor baby,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. His hand stroked your hair, the sound of his words soothing you. “I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

You were too drunk to notice the dark glint in his eyes or the way his smile lingered just a little too long. Too naive to realize how tightly his grip held you, as though he’d never let go.

Young-il led you to the bathroom, steadying you with a firm grip as you clung to him for balance. Every touch, every reassuring glance he gave you was planned down to the last detail, feeding into the web he’d been weaving since the moment he first laid eyes on you. You were his perfect little pawn, and now, more than ever, he could see his plan falling into place. 

When he knocked on the bathroom door, you were already bracing yourself for the usual bargaining and desperate pleading that so often accompanied requests to use the facilities. But to your surprise, the guards let you both pass without hesitation, a testament to the sway your knight in shining armor seemed to hold.

He guided you inside, shutting the door behind you with a quiet click. Leading you to the sink, he turned on the faucet, letting the cool water rush out. “Here,” he said softly, his voice calm and soothing. “Let’s wash your face. It’ll help.”

You nodded, leaning over the sink and splashing the water onto your flushed cheeks. The cold sting sent a brief jolt through you, though it did little to clear the fog in your mind. When you blinked your eyes open and straightened, you nearly jumped at the sight of him standing right behind you, close enough that you could feel his presence like a weight against your back.

Your wide-eyed gaze flicked up to the mirror. He stood there, his expression as unreadable as ever, but the intensity in his eyes made your stomach twist. Despite yourself, you wiped your face with your sleeve and offered him a sheepish smile.

“How’re you feeling?” he asked, stepping closer. His hand brushed your damp hair back from your face, the gesture tender in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Good,” you mumbled, though the truth was far from it. The alcohol swirled in your system, leaving you dizzier than before. But the way he touched you, the way he looked at you, it sent a warmth through your chest that was impossible to ignore.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his tone low and velvety, each syllable wrapping around you like a shackle. You hadn’t even noticed how close he’d gotten until now, his chest pressing lightly against your back.

Your breath hitched as something firm brushed against you from behind, and you let out a small, involuntary whimper. “Sir Young-il…?”

“In-ho,” he rasped, cutting you off. “My real name, it’s In-ho.” His voice had dropped even lower, and there was something raw and possessive in the way he said it. You blinked, confused, his real name rolling off your tongue before you could even think twice to question him.

“In-ho,” you repeated softly, as if testing the weight of it. “What’s going on?”

His lips curved into a faint smile, his hands settling firmly on your waist. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours through the mirror. “I’ll take good care of you. You trust me, don’t you?”

You nodded too quickly, too eagerly, the alcohol and your long-brewing crush on him clouding your better judgment. “I trust you,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his grip tightening slightly as he trailed his fingers along your waist, his touch deliberate and possessive.

He leaned in, closing the already small gap between you two as his lips found yours in a kiss—the first one you’d ever shared. Admittedly, it wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined it to unfold. You pictured your first kiss with a high school crush, maybe some boy your age who’d take you out on an innocent date. But all those dreams faded the moment you met In-ho, and now, all dreams you had were consumed by him.

You pressed against him, letting him take control as his kiss deepened, hungry and intense, like a man starved for more. You followed his lead instinctively, trusting him—because you always knew, deep down, he knew what was best. So when he raised his fingers to your lips, you hesitated for only a moment before parting them, allowing him to slip two fingers inside. His dark eyes gleamed as you sucked obediently, your cheeks flushing deeper under his watchful gaze. A low, guttural sound escaped his throat, and his breathing grew heavier.

Pulling his fingers away, he wasted no time in hooking them into the waistband of your sweatpants, tugging them down in one hasty motion. His lips found the curve of your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear as his right hand skimmed the sensitive skin of your neck.

You grabbed his wrist suddenly, your touch light and hesitant. “Wait, In-ho—” you murmured, your voice trembling with embarrassment. His dark eyes met yours in the mirror, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“I… I’ve never done anything like this before,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He wasn’t surprised; he had suspected as much. But hearing it from you, seeing the vulnerability in your gaze—only stoked the fire burning within him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice deceptively gentle, though there was an unmistakable tension in his tone.

You shook your head quickly, biting your lip. “I trust you. Just… be gentle. Please.” 

He smiled at that, a flicker of something darker hidden beneath the curve of his lips. “Of course,” he murmured, his hands resuming their slow exploration. But in his mind, he knew the truth: restraint was never his strong suit. Especially when it came to you. 

And with you—so soft, so eager, so completely his, he doubted he could hold himself back for long.

His fingers, still slick with your saliva, trailed down to your entrance, brushing over it with deliberate precision. The touch made you jolt, a shiver running up your spine as you gasped. In-ho groaned low in his throat, his eyes fixed on your reflection in the mirror. “Fucking dripping,” he mused, his voice a sinful rasp. Slowly, he slid a finger inside, the intrusion making your thighs instinctively part.

A soft moan escaped your lips as he pressed deeper, his touch firm but unhurried. This wasn’t the first time you’d felt something like this, but the last time had been your own doing—fumbling, desperate, and entirely unremarkable. That had been just days ago, tucked away in one of these very bathroom stalls, shamefully thinking of him. Now, with his hands where yours had been, the stark difference had you feeling light-headed. 

His fingers were thicker, rougher, impossibly skilled. The sensation left you trembling, your legs threatening to give out as he worked you open. His other arm snaked around your upper chest, holding you close, his grip firm yet possessive. The position bordered on a chokehold, but instead of fear, it only sent another wave of heat coursing through you.

Your breath hitched as a soft, broken “Ohmygod,” fell from your lips. He didn’t pause, didn’t falter. His finger curled just right, hitting a spot that made you see stars. Your hands gripped on In-ho’s forearm, knuckles white as you bit down hard on your lower lip, trying and failing to stifle your moans.

“You okay, sweetheart?” His voice was like velvet, roughened by desire. He pressed a kiss into the crook of your neck. His other hand released its hold on your chest as it moved lower, settling on the curve of your ass. He squeezed firmly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you.

You nodded weakly, barely able to form words. “Uh-huh… feels so good, sir,”

That made him chuckle, a deep, dark sound that reverberated through your body. The honorific sent a thrill down his spine, his cock straining against the confines of his sweatpants.

“You’re ready,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he pulled back just enough to tug his waistband down. You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide as you took him in, the sight was intimidating, your head reeling. 

"In-ho, I–I don’t think I can take that." Your voice faltered, a hint of shame creeping into your words. He laughed, a sound so familiar it sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of hearty laugh you'd grown so used to hearing from him. But now, there was something different—something darker layered beneath it, like a cruel mockery. "Course you can, angel," he said, his tone smooth but laced with an unsettling edge. "I know you can. Let me take care of you."

“H-Here? Like this?” you asked, your voice small and unsure, referring to the state he had you in—bent over the sink and in front of the mirror. utterly at his mercy.

He leaned in, his hand gripping your chin and forcing your gaze back at your reflection. “Right here,” he confirmed, his voice a low growl. Want you to watch yourself while I’m fucking you open.”

The vulgarity of his words sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively arching for him. You nodded, too dazed and drunk to do anything else, and he didn’t waste another second.

He slid inside slowly, the stretch making you cry out and grip the sink tighter. The initial sting was sharp, but it quickly gave way to something deeper, something so intense it left you gasping. Your legs wobbled beneath you, and you leaned harder against the sink for support.

“In-ho… In-ho,” you whimpered, his name falling from your lips like a chant. “Sir… I— I feel you in my stomach.”

The confession had him groaning, a sound so guttural it made your knees weak. “Yeah? Fuck, baby.” He babbled as he moved closer, his body pressing against yours as his hand trailed down with deliberate slowness. When his palm flattened against your stomach, his fingers brushing over the faint outline of him inside you, your breath hitched. 

“Feel that?” he murmured, his composure slipping as he began to move. His hips snapped against yours, each thrust deliberate and punishing. You nodded frantically, a whimper escaping as he pressed down, sending a shockwave through your body. “In-ho, nngh!—“ 

You were completely out of it, your thoughts a tangled haze, your body slack and pliant in his hands. The alcohol coursing through your veins had stripped away every layer of hesitation, leaving you wide open to his manipulations. And In-ho, oh, he reveled in it. The way your voice slurred when you called his name, the way your movements were unsteady, dependent on him for every step and touch—it all fueled his sick delight. You were better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

As he pulled you closer, pressing into you from behind, your gaze flicked to the bathroom door, a flicker of worry breaking through your drunken stupor. “In-ho…” you mewled, voice soft as you felt your body jerk with each rough thrust he made.. “What if–ah!—someone walks in?”

He paused, his hands resting possessively on your hips, a smile ghosting across his lips. “Don’t worry about that,” he said, his voice low and soothing, though there was an unmistakable edge of amusement in his tone. “The guards won’t come.” His confidence sent a shiver through you, but you weren’t entirely convinced. “But… but what if another player—”

“No one’s going to interrupt us,” he said firmly, his dark eyes boring into yours before you could finish your sentence. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. “You’re with me. They wouldn’t dare.”

Something about the absolute certainty, the power in his voice—had your anxiety ebbing away, replaced by a strange sense of safety. You nodded slowly, leaning into his touch, your inhibitions melting once again under his spell.

“You trust me, don’t you, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

“Mmhm,” You squeaked out through laboured breaths. 

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his hands sliding down to grip your waist, pulling you back against him. He watched your reflection as his fingers dug into your soft flesh, relishing the way you gasped and arched into his touch.

Your head lolled slightly, your body swaying under his hold. “Mmmh…I feel so dizzy,” you slurred, your voice barely above a whisper.

In-ho chuckled darkly, his hands moving to steady you. “That’s just the soju, sweetheart,” he said, though he didn’t bother hiding the smirk on his face. “You’re doing so well for me.”

He loved seeing you like this. Drunk, vulnerable, completely at his mercy. Every soft whimper, every stumble, every little movement that showed how completely you relied on him only fueled his desire. You were his, whether you realized it or not.

As his fingers grazed your skin, he couldn’t resist pushing you further, testing your reactions as he pushed your buttons. “You know,” he murmured, his lips ghosting along the curve of your neck, “Y’look so pretty like this. All fucked out and needy. Just for me.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, pressed against him. “Y-you think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, his voice a velvety purr. His hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming. “Just look at yourself, baby. See how perfect you are for me?”

Your hazy eyes flicked to the mirror, taking in the sight of the two of you. His dark, piercing gaze met yours, his expression raw and predatory. The way he looked at you—it was almost too much. Your cheeks burned, and you averted your eyes, biting your lip.

He wasn’t having that. His hand left your waist, fingers gently gripping your chin and turning your face back toward the mirror. “No,” he said firmly. “I want you to watch. Watch yourself while I take care of you.”

The authority in his voice sent a thrill through you, your body trembling as you nodded weakly. “O-okay—ah, fuck!”

“Atta girl,” he chuckled, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

As his hands roamed lower, teasing and exploring, you couldn’t help the soft, breathless moans that spilled from your lips. Every touch, every word, every look from him pulled you deeper into the fog of your drunken desire, leaving you utterly helpless in his grasp.

And In-ho? He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The room filled with the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin, your muffled cries, and his filthy murmurs. “Thaat’s it, there’s my pretty girl.” His hand tangled in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back, his lips brushing against your ear. “Fucking take it. Just like that.”

Every thrust sent you higher, the alcohol in your system amplifying every sensation, every nerve alight with pleasure. Your mind was fogged, the world around you turning into nothing but a senseless blur. And yet, you felt every little sensation In-ho fed you, each rough snap of his hips driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You felt your climax building, overwhelming and unstoppable. Your eyes fluttered shut, ready to let go—but his hand suddenly cupped your cheek, a sharp slap bringing you back.

“I told you,” he growled, his voice authoritative. “None of that. You keep your eyes on me when I fill you up. Understand?”

You nodded frantically, gasping as you forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze once again through the mirror—the sight was enough to send you over the edge. Your release hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as you cried out his name.

The sight of you coming undone beneath him was his undoing. With a few more erratic thrusts, he followed, his hips stuttering as he spilled inside you. A deep groan tore from his chest, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he rode out his high.

The room fell into silence, save for the sound of your labored breathing. In-ho steadied you, his hands gentle now as he helped you stand. He brushed your hair back, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“If we get out of here alive…” A sheepish smile spread across your face, “Let’s drink again sometime?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rich. “When we get out,” he corrected, his tone laced with quiet determination. He kissed you once more, sealing the promise. And he meant it. If it meant keeping you by his side, he’d kill every last player in the game with his bare hands.

[mortallyfuzzytyrant]

Expanding on being Olrox's best friend.

My genuine belief is this friendship would form on mutual respect. It's clear Olrox is someone who doesn't take his true loyalties lightly. And he is beyond tired of people who are power hungry or buy into group mentalities.

I believe you would have met Olrox during a time of hardship for yourself. You being a humble individual who merely wanted to exist. Though, of course, the world wouldn't make such a thing so simple.

Olrox has basically spent his entire life forming alliances to get by. He found you trapped as an abstract entity being used by vampires. He found it distasteful but didn't do a thing at first.

Discovering you had a consciousness was a point of intrigue for him. You could think and feel. Hearing you speak wasn't surprising but amused him nonetheless.

You two held conversations now and again. It became obvious to you that Olrox merely sought out for himself and couldn't care less about the ambitions of the vampires that held you. You decided quite quickly you liked him.

He quipped about your abusers and boasted about his lover. Admittedly, it rubbed you the wrong way he sat by as you were made into a toy. But this man was the closest thing to what it was like to be treated like a person, so you clung to your brief interactions.

Plus, he was funny. At least you were getting something out of this. Olrox was keeping you sane.

You within an inch of your mental capacity each day. You were in pain and long past tolerant of others.

You were aware of what happened to Olrox's lover. You have no idea why he told you. He did it so matter of factly.

The way he always smirked when talking to you was replaced with a bitter scowl. His demeanor was a far cry from how playful and snarky he was before.

Instinctively, you offered your wish for his peace with the matter. You even complimented his lover. You saw him briefly. You were....more perceptive than average, let's put it that way.

Olrox's expression was unreadable but it was clear he absorbed your words.

Olrox had been put in charge of commanding you at some point. You spent more time together. Your being was still confined but your consciousness good stretch for eons.

You didn't mind Olrox commanding you. He was far kinder and just did what was necessary. Perhaps he wasn't exactly overly familiar. But he treated you as something akin to a lieutenant. Rather than a dog.

You formed a habit of calling him "master".

He never said anything. But somehow you could tell it bothered him. You thought it was because he wasn't fond enough of you to even consider you a servant. Still. You were attached and refused to stop.

One day you were pushed too far by the vampires that kept you. You were in agony.

After they left, you begged Olrox to set you free. You called him master like you always did. His green eyes pierced into you. You must've looked absolutely pathetic. Even without a face or body.

Something about the way he stood there enraged you. And the next time the other vampires came to make use of you, you did away with them all. Many more came to attack but your blind rage stopped them.

Olrox's smile as he watched you was irritating.

As much as you liked the guy, you were beyond tired of being viewed as a pass time. You aimed for him. And funnily enough, you did your fair share of damage.

Olrox got close enough to your prison. Imagine your surprise when he released you.

"You almost killed me." The laugh in his voice was baffling.

You had a better chance of doing that now that you were free. You didn't find it worth being impressed over. At least, not from his perspective.

You blinked as he simply turned to walk away.

Odd as it was, you instinctively thanked your master. Your previous rage was dwarfed by your confusion at Olrox's contradictory actions. All you could muster in your daze was gratitude.

Olrox replied with saying he had no idea who you were referring to.

You blinked.

"You're smart enough to slaughter a group of fools beholden to their delusions of grandeur. And another who stood by even as your screams carried over the ocean." Olrox smirks. "I think you're long past that."

You blinked. Smart, he says.

Olrox shrugged at your confusion. "You choose now of all nights to end them. Or us. I suppose I'm included in that. You've been watching the moon, haven't you? Being free now...Why, I don't think the night has ever been so beautiful. Wouldn't you agree?"

You were baffled at what he was implying. You insisted on calling him master.

He tutted your fixation on that.

"That's what no one ever told you. You don't need masters."

You gaped.

He smiled. "You figured that out all on your own. Everyone here is dead. You made an attempt on my life for my inaction. In what world does someone like that need anyone?"

You went quiet. Olrox was going to leave. You watched him go.

"You may follow me. If you wish." Olrox said without turning or stopping.

Your breath hitched at him reading your desires so easily.

"On one condition."

You bristled. Of course no one ever offered company without a catch-

"Never call me 'master' again." Olrox frowned pointedly at you.

You gaped. An odd request. But...You found yourself silently agreeing, following quickly.

Olrox smiles. A lot softer than you were used to. "I would like to see an actual form in front of me."

You blinked. Was that his way of...encouraging you?

You flushed, solidifying yourself the moment you were outside.

Olrox hummed. "Imagine hiding something this captivating. You're foolish about the strangest things."

You felt you should have been offended. But tears found their way to you. As shrewd as he put it, he undoubtedly called you beautiful.

You two knew each other for centuries and now you were attached to the hip in the open world. You were there for the murder of Julia. Olrox thanked you greatly for assisting in tracking her down but told you to stay out of the fight. You kept to the shadows and proudly watched your beloved friend triumph.

Richter was hardly conscious of everything around him. He froze at Olrox kneeling before him. Your presence felt more like a dream rather than what he was actually seeing. He wasn't sure he had actually seen another vampire there. It was intentional on your part, you hadn't wanted to give Olrox trouble and used your abilities the moment you spotted Julia. Your eyes have haunted Richter's nightmares for years. Though he is unable to tell if it was Olrox's or not. He doesn't remember you.

Mentioned this before, but Olrox allows you to hang onto him.

It's incredibly common place for you to rush to Olrox and put your hands on his chest and lean on him.

He responds with a hand on the small of your back. He'll fully embrace you if you've been separated during battle.

He will full on guard you with his body if it is needed. Though, it's rare. You are a strong vampire.

Full disclosure if he despises someone that flirts with you. Massive protective brother energy.

"Cunts need washings before they speak."

"Olrox!"

Olrox and you use endearments on one another. "Love" and "darling" are the most prominent. But pick your poison of birds, flowers or gems you compare each other to.

You were not amused by Olrox targeting Mizrak. Out of all the men he chose to ove on" with, a hypocritical human of the cloth wasn't in your pickings of the list. You saw Olrox running into his bad habits with him. It worried you.

You had a distaste for Mizrak from the start. It was sealed when he barked at Olrox.

You hissed. "Small mutts shouldn't bark so loud."

Olrox couldn't find it in himself to listen at first. It had been a while, but you knew he was still grieving.

You stayed by his side to offer support but you were waiting for him to throw the whole man out.

You whimpered and touched Olrox's forehead after what Drolta did to him.

"Olrox, love, your pretty little head is hidden."

You were enraged but simply allowed Olrox to take a breath and hold your hand while offering a soft kiss.

It's actually funny how much you have a "you can do better" attitude regarding Mizrak.

To a point Olrox has tickled you with a feather when you go on too long.

Thankfully, your intervention wore Olrox down and he was thinking far more clearly.

Either you healed Mizrak or let him die peacefully.

Regardless, he was weighing down your best friend over your dead blood sucking body. Watching Olrox chose immortality for someone a second time wasn't something you were going to allow.

I feel like being Olrox's best friend would be so nice. Olrox having all that love and trust in you to keep you close and being able to vulnerable. Olrox is the type of friend that you would be attached to the hip with at all times and would be so gentle and caring. Especially considering it's clear Olrox's orbit is scarce due to his past and how he feels about people in general. So his best friend is someone he'd be incredibly protective of and would cherish.

Olrox and his best friend would have tons of witty banter that both pokes fun at the other while also remaining wholesome and affectionate. Though the ones directed at others is ruthless and cutting. Olrox is for sure that friend you sit by and judge others with. You two have this telepathic connection (either literal or metaphorical) where you don't even need to look at each other and you just- react the same way to situations and people's stupidity, both facial expressions and body language. You two are menaces when it comes to being in other's presence. Regardless if it's holding a conversation or being in combat.

Olrox has gently tutted you to behave yourself on rare occasions but you can tell by his grin that he was absolutely encouraging your mischief. He even whispers his own quip in your ear every now and then, adoring when you giggle in response. You two are the biggest gossip buddies in private, making each other howl with laughter discussing what you think about recent events or the people you've ran into. Olrox would be helping you either bathe, do your hair, or simply sharing the bed with you all the while.

Olrox's voice is noticeably softer and thinner with you. Olrox keeps you close by having a gentle hand on your shoulder, waist, or having you cling to his arm. Olrox will often pull you to him and kiss your temple. Or on the side of your cheek. Either as a simple gesture of affection or giving you a swift goodbye in the rare times you two have to separate. Olrox will also hold you to his chest if you're hurting. Olrox seems harsh but for you he actively practices the utmost tenderness when comforting you.

Goodness forbid someone else caused your distress. Olrox will be absolutely feral if anyone dares cause you harm. You are his dear friend and he cherishes your spot in his life. He'll be damned if he lets someone disrupt that, even in the smallest ways.

[arixella]

Unspoken Words

╰┈➤ pairing: Shanks x female! reader

a/n: send request if you have any <3

summary: After a long and unexpected reunion with Shanks, the two of you share a quiet, intimate moment on the deck of the Red-Haired Pirates' ship, where Shanks finally confesses that, despite all the years and distance, he’s never stopped loving you.

wc: 900

contains: fluff, tiny angst

The sun had begun its descent, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink as the sea lapped gently against the hull of the Red-Haired Pirates' ship. The sounds of the crew bustled in the background, but up on the deck, away from the ruckus, the air felt still, like the world had paused just for you two.

You hadn't expected to be here—on this ship, with him.

It had been years. Years of wondering, waiting, and hoping that one day you’d see him again. Shanks. The man who had left without a word, disappearing into the vast world, only to reappear like a distant memory brought to life. You had kept the promise you'd made to yourself: to move on. Life had taken you down its own winding roads, yet deep down, a part of you had always carried him with you.

Now, you stood beside him once more. Your heart ached with emotions you couldn’t quite sort out. His fiery red hair caught the light of the fading sun, and that trademark grin played across his lips, but there was something in his eyes—something softer—that made you wonder just how much time had really passed.

"You’re quieter than I remember," Shanks chuckled, turning his gaze toward you.

You blinked, breaking from your thoughts. "I guess I’m still processing this whole... reunion."

He tilted his head, eyes sparkling with mischief, but there was a hint of vulnerability hidden beneath. "I didn't expect you to be speechless. Was I that bad of a captain to make you nervous?"

The teasing tone didn’t reach his eyes, though. His grin faltered for a brief second, and you noticed the subtle way his fingers tightened around the railing. He’d always worn that easygoing facade, but the longer you looked at him, the more it became clear—there was something on his mind. Something he hadn't told you all these years.

You took a small step closer, letting the warm evening breeze sweep through your hair. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Shanks laughed softly, a sound you had missed so much. "I know," he admitted. "But... it’s been so long, I wasn’t sure where to start."

You gave him a small, wry smile, your gaze steady on him. "Start with the most important part," you said quietly. "Why did you leave without a word? We didn’t even get a proper goodbye."

His expression shifted, and for a moment, he was silent. He turned his gaze to the horizon, the fiery orange sun reflecting in his eyes. “I wanted to come back. God, I wanted to. But... I didn’t think it was right. I thought you’d be better off without me, that I’d just get in the way of your future."

You were silent, processing his words. “So you left because you thought it was for the best?” you asked, your voice a mix of frustration and sadness.

Shanks nodded, his shoulders tense. "I’ve always been a man who lives in the moment. But I’ve never been good at thinking ahead. Back then, I couldn’t offer you anything solid. I didn’t want to drag you along with my reckless lifestyle... And I hated the idea of you waiting for me, wasting your life on someone who couldn’t promise you anything."

The weight of his words hung between you, but as you watched him—this man who had always been larger than life, full of energy and joy—you saw something that you hadn’t expected: regret.

"I spent all these years thinking about you," he continued, his voice softer now, tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. "Wondering if you hated me, or if you had moved on with someone else. I tried to convince myself that it was better this way. But it’s been... hard. Every damn day, harder than the last."

Your heart clenched as you took a step forward, your fingers brushing lightly against his arm. "Shanks, you don't have to apologize. You did what you thought was best... but I wish you’d known I would've waited for you."

He turned to face you then, his gaze locking onto yours. The playful spark was gone, replaced by an intensity that made your breath hitch. "I didn’t know," he murmured, his voice low. "But I do now."

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of the sea and the faint creak of the ship’s wooden planks. Shanks shifted, closing the distance between you, and before you knew it, his hand gently cupped your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek, a simple touch, but it sent a jolt of warmth through your chest.

“You’ve always been a part of me, Y/N,” Shanks whispered, his forehead resting against yours. “Even when I was a thousand miles away, I never stopped thinking about you. I never stopped loving you.”

The words hung in the air, as if they were both a confession and a release. A truth he’d kept hidden for far too long. You stared at him, your heart racing, and a bittersweet smile curled on your lips.

"I don’t know what to say," you murmured, your voice trembling slightly.

"You don’t have to say anything," he replied, his grin returning but this time it held a tenderness that hadn’t been there before. "I just wanted you to know... I never stopped loving you."

Your heart swelled, and without another thought, you leaned in, closing the gap between you. His lips were warm and gentle against yours, like a long-awaited reunion, and for a moment, the world melted away. The past, the years of separation, the pain—it all faded into the background as you kissed him, letting the emotions that had been hidden for so long wash over you both.

When you pulled back, breathless and with your forehead resting against his, you whispered, “I missed you, Shanks.”

He grinned, his eyes still soft but filled with that familiar spark. "I’m not going anywhere this time."

And for the first time in years, you believed him.

The sun dipped below the horizon, but the warmth between you both remained—quiet, unspoken, and enough to carry you both through whatever the future held.

♡♡♡

[echo-riot]

✞⛧ Sevika/Abby/Ellie: Love letters ✞⛧

Warnings: fluff

𝕊𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕜𝕒

Hey Brat,

I don’t know what you want me to say in this. You should know by now that I’m not one for long speeches or anything sappy. But since you’re still here, I guess I’ll give you something to chew on.

You’re mine. That’s the only thing you need to remember. No one else matters. No one else will even get close to you while I’m around. I don’t care if you think it’s possessive or crazy, but you’re not going anywhere. And don’t even try to argue with me about it. You wouldn’t win.

It’s cute how you think you need to take care of me sometimes. You’re not the only one who knows how to survive, but I’ll admit—your little touches, your care, it’s not the worst thing in the world. But don’t go thinking I need you. You’re not my damn therapist, and I’m not your project. But I’ll let you fuss over me anyway, since you seem to enjoy it. I’d kill anyone who made you feel less than adored, so don’t get any bright ideas about being too independent.

You’ve got a good thing going, so don’t fuck it up. I might not say it outright, but I’d burn this whole damn city down before I let anything happen to you. So yeah, maybe I’m a little soft on you. But don’t get any funny ideas. You’re not gonna change me, and you’ll never hear me say anything cheesy, like those damn love words. That’s not me.

But in the quiet moments, when you’re all tangled up with me, I’m not thinking about anyone else. Just you. Keep that in mind next time you get all worried.

So, there. That’s your “love letter,” for whatever the hell that means to you. Take it or leave it.

-Sevika

•|||——————————————————————|||•

𝔸𝕓𝕓𝕪

Hey,

I’m not great with words. Never have been. So, you’ll have to bear with me.

I’m not some romantic, and I don’t do the whole love-letter thing. But I guess I owe you this, if only because you’re the one thing in this messed-up world that’s made sense. You’re the constant, the one person who’s been there even when I didn’t deserve it. I don’t know if you get that, or if you’ll ever really understand how much that means to me.

I’m not good at talking about feelings—hell, I’m not even sure what they are half the time. But I know this: I trust you. I trust you in a way I haven’t trusted anyone in a long time. And yeah, maybe that’s not saying much, but I’m not exactly the type to let people close. You’ve earned your place, and I’m not just letting anyone in. So, don’t take that lightly.

I won’t sugarcoat it—I’ve made my share of mistakes. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to make things right, but I’m trying. I’m fighting for something, for us, and I don’t know where that’ll take me, but I know I’ll keep pushing forward as long as you’re by my side. You’re the reason I keep going when it’s easier to quit. You make it worth it.

I’m not perfect, and I don’t expect you to be either. We’re both broken in our own ways, and that’s okay. I just want you to know that, no matter what happens, I’ll fight for you. You mean more to me than I can say.

So, yeah. Maybe not the flowery words you expected. But that’s the truth, and it’s the best I can do.

<3 Abby

•|||——————————————————————|||•

𝔼𝕝𝕝𝕚𝕖

Hey you,

I don’t even know where to start, but I guess that’s pretty typical for me. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what to say, how to say it, and if I even have the guts to send something like this. But here it is, I guess.

I’m not great with words—never really was. I tend to get stuck in my head, and even when I have something I want to say, it comes out… wrong. But I hope you understand that I mean every word, even if it’s clumsy or awkward.

There’s something about you that makes everything feel… right. Even on the days when I’m a mess, when I forget to text back or I zone out for a bit because my head’s too loud—whenever I’m with you, I feel like I can breathe. And I don’t know what I did to deserve that, but I’m grateful for it. I’m grateful for you.

You make me want to be better, even if I don’t always show it in the best ways. I know I can be a little weird and I overthink things like a lot, but the truth is, I’m just trying to make sure I don’t mess things up with you. You mean more to me than I’m probably letting on, and sometimes that freaks me out.

I catch myself looking at you sometimes, like I can’t help it, and I know I probably look like an idiot when I get all flustered, but it’s because you’re… I don’t know. You’re just everything to me. It’s hard to explain, but I think you already know.

When I’m with you, I don’t feel like such a loser anymore. I don’t have to be perfect or say the right things or try to impress anyone. You make me feel like I don’t have to be anything other than just… me. And that’s probably the best gift anyone could give me.

So, yeah. I guess I just wanted to tell you that. You mean the world to me, more than you know. And I’m sorry for all the weirdness, the moments when I get quiet or lost in my thoughts. It’s just… I think about you a lot.

I’ll stop before I get all awkward and ruin this, but I hope you understand.

I love you. And I’m so damn lucky to have you.

Love,

Ellie

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[biblical-chronicles]

New arrival

________________________________________

where the newly moved-in reader makes Noel start leaving his room for once.

________________________________________

The first time you met Peggy, it had been by pure chance. You were at the local grocer’s, struggling to calculate the best way to stretch what little cash you had. You’d been eyeing a dented tin of soup when she approached, friendly as anything, and started chatting. By the time you’d finished checking out, she’d not only figured out you were new in town but also offered a spare room in her house on the condition that you help out around the place and chip in a little for rent.

You’d nearly cried on the spot. It wasn’t easy being in a new city, broke, and trying to get your footing. Her kindness was a lifeline you hadn’t expected but desperately needed. So, a few days later, with your single suitcase in tow, you arrived at the Gallagher household.

Peggy opened the door before you could even knock properly, a smile already on her face. “Oh, there you are, love! Come in, come in—don’t stand out there like a lost lamb.”

You stepped inside, immediately hit with the comforting smell of home cooking and the faint scent of cigarettes lingering somewhere in the background. Peggy took your suitcase before you could protest, leading you through the narrow hallway.

“Right, so this is the front room,” she said, gesturing to a space crowded with mismatched furniture and stacks of magazines. “And that’s the kitchen through there—help yourself to a brew whenever you like. The loo’s upstairs, and your room’s just down here.”

She led you to a small room at the back of the house. It was cramped, with a worn-out couch shoved against one wall and a pile of boxes stacked in the corner, but it was clean and cozy enough.

“It’s not much, I know,” Peggy said, wringing her hands. “We’ve just never had much use for this room—bit of a dumping ground, really. But you’ll make it your own, eh?”

“It’s perfect,” you assured her, dropping your bag on the couch. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Gallagher. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“Oh, none of that now,” she said, waving a hand. “It’s Peggy to you, love. And you’re family now, alright? Just pull your weight and we’ll get on fine.”

You smiled, genuinely touched by her warmth. Peggy gave you a quick rundown of the house rules—nothing too strict—and left you to settle in.

Later, as you were unpacking, a knock came at the door. You turned to see a man about your age leaning against the frame, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Alright, love? I’m Liam,” he said, arms crossed over his chest. “Mum said we’ve got a new lodger. Proper fit one too, by the looks of it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Is that how you greet everyone?”

“Nah, just the special ones,” he shot back, winking. “So, what’s your story then?”

You spent the next few minutes chatting, his sharp tongue making you laugh easily.

Eventually, Peggy’s voice rang out from the kitchen. “Liam, stop pestering her! She’s had a long day!”

“She loves it, Mum!” Liam called back, making you laugh again. “See? She’s smilin’.”

Peggy appeared in the doorway a moment later, hands on her hips. “Don’t mind him, love. He’s harmless—just got a big gob on him.”

“Oi!” Liam protested, feigning offense.

Peggy rolled her eyes before turning back to you. “There’s another one knocking about somewhere, Noel. He’s upstairs with his guitar, like always. You’ll probably see him at tea time, if he bothers to come down.”

Liam snorted, shaking his head. “Yeah, don’t get your hopes up, love. He’s all bent for that bloody guitar. Doesn’t care about owt else. I reckon he humps it when no one's lookin'.”

“Liam!” Peggy scolded, smacking him lightly on the arm.

“What? Just sayin’,” he said, grinning at you.

You laughed, leaning against the doorframe. “Sounds fun.”

“Oh, you’ve no idea,” Peggy muttered, giving Liam a look. “Now, go on, you. Leave her be.”

Liam winked at you as he turned to go. “Don’t let her fool you, love—she’s scarier than me when she’s in a mood.”

With that, he disappeared down the hallway, leaving you laughing and shaking your head.

Peggy sighed, but there was a fondness in her expression. “He’s a good lad, really. Just likes to push his luck. Now, let me finish up tea, and you can meet Noel hopefully.”

You nodded, already feeling more at home than you had in weeks.

When Noel finally made his appearance at the table, it was almost as if a shadow had swept into the room. His blue eyes flicked over you briefly, taking you in with a glance that felt both assessing and uninterested at the same time.

“Noel,” Peggy said, her tone sharp but affectionate. “This is our new lodger. Be nice.”

“Alright.” Noel muttered, sitting down at the table without much fanfare. He grabbed a plate and started serving himself, not sparing you another look.

“Nice to meet you.” you offered, trying not to let his cold demeanor throw you off.

“Yeah, you too.” he replied, his tone flat but polite enough.

Liam snorted, leaning back in his chair with a smirk. “Don’t mind him, love. This is probably the first time he has spoken to a bird in weeks.”

Noel shot Liam a glare. “Shut it, knobhead.”

Peggy sighed. “That’s enough, the both of you.”

As the meal went on, Noel stayed mostly quiet, occasionally chiming in when Peggy or Liam addressed him directly. He didn’t seem rude, just… guarded, like he wasn’t quite sure what to make of you yet.

When the plates were nearly cleared, Noel stood abruptly, picking up his plate to take it to the kitchen. “I’ll be in me room.” he muttered, already heading for the door.

Liam rolled his eyes, leaning toward you with a grin. “Off to wank over his guitar, no doubt.”

You chuckled softly but, before you knew it, the words were slipping out of your mouth. “I mean, I get it. It’s nice to have summat you’re that passionate about, especially when that thing is music.”

Noel froze mid-step, turning to look at you properly for the first time all evening. His eyes narrowed slightly, not in a suspicious way, but more like he was trying to figure you out. “You play or summat?”

“Yeah,” you said, shrugging. “Been in a few bands back home, nowt serious. Just for fun.”

Liam laughed, shaking his head. “Careful, love. He’s gonna adopt you now.”

But Noel wasn’t listening to Liam anymore. His focus was entirely on you. “You any good?”

You smirked, leaning back in your chair. “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

For the first time all evening, a small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of Noel’s mouth. “Alright. Come on, then.”

You followed him upstairs to his room, leaving Liam and Peggy exchanging amused glances at the table.

Noel’s room was cramped, with an unmade bed shoved into one corner and clothes scattered everywhere. He picked his guitar up—a well-worn acoustic that looked like it had seen better days—and handed it to you without a word.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, testing the strings and adjusting the tuning slightly before strumming a few chords. Noel watched you intently, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

After a minute, you started playing a song you knew by heart, your fingers moving effortlessly over the strings. As you played, you glanced up at him, half-expecting him to look unimpressed, but his face had softened.

“Not bad,” he said when you finished, his tone casual but with a hint of something warmer underneath. “Got a good ear.”

“Thanks,” you said, handing the guitar back to him. “Your turn.”

He smirked, taking the guitar and sitting down next to you. He played a few riffs, his fingers moving over the fretboard with a precision and ease that made your jaw drop a little.

“Alright, show-off.” you teased, nudging him lightly.

He laughed—a quiet, almost shy sound that took you by surprise. “Can’t help it, can I? Spent half me life with this thing.”

The two of you spent the next hour trading songs and chatting. At first, Noel was reserved, keeping his answers short and to the point. But as time went on, he started to relax, his dry humor shining through as he told you stories and inquired more about you.

By the end of the night, he was sitting closer to you than he had been before, his knee brushing against yours as he handed you the guitar again.

“You’ve got somethin’,” he said, his voice softer now. “Dunno what it is, but… yeah. I reckon you’ll fit in here just fine.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. For all his initial standoffishness, there was something incredibly endearing about Noel when he let his guard down. And little did you know that this little interaction had him sold entirely.

Days turned into weeks, and Noel's obsession with you only deepened. It started small, little things that seemed almost sweet—offering to make you a brew, or conveniently showing up wherever you were in the house, even if it meant abandoning his guitar mid-strum. But as time went on, his behavior became almost laughably obvious to everyone except, apparently, you.

The first hint of jealousy cropped up one evening when Liam was sprawled on the couch next to you, the pair of you laughing at something on the telly. You had your legs tucked under you, leaning into Liam slightly as you pointed at the screen and whispered something that had him laughing so loud Peggy poked her head in to shush him.

Noel walked into the room just in time to see Liam sling an arm casually over the back of the couch, his hand dangerously close to your shoulder. The sight made Noel’s jaw tighten.

“You two havin’ a laugh?” he asked, his tone sharp enough to cut through the cozy atmosphere.

Liam turned his head lazily, smirking. “Alright, Noel? We were just watchin’ this show. Dead funny. You’d love it if you could tear yourself away from yer room.”

Noel ignored him, his eyes flicking to you. “You good?”

You smiled up at him, oblivious to the tension radiating off of him. “Yeah, this show’s brilliant. Want to join?”

Noel shook his head. “Nah, I’ll leave you to it.” he muttered, but the way he glared at Liam as he left the room spoke volumes.

From then on, Noel made a point to position himself as close to you as possible at all times. If Liam sat next to you on the couch, Noel would plop himself down on your other side, his knee brushing yours as he leaned over to "grab a closer look" at whatever you were doing. If you laughed at something Liam said, Noel would immediately chime in with something wittier, his eyes flicking to you for your reaction.

The closeness between you and Noel also began to shift in the physical realm. The first time he hugged you, it was after you’d come home from running errands, your arms full of shopping bags. He’d taken the bags from you, muttering something about how you shouldn’t be carrying all that on your own, and when you thanked him, he surprised you by pulling you into a quick, one-armed hug.

“Don’t mention it.” he said gruffly, but the way he lingered just a second too long told you otherwise.

From then on, the hugs became more frequent, and longer. One rainy afternoon, you were sitting on the couch, feeling a bit low. Noel wandered in and immediately noticed your mood.

“You alright, love?” he asked, sitting next to you and nudging your knee with his.

“Yeah, just one of those days.” you said with a shrug.

Without a word, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re alright now, yeah?” he murmured, his hand rubbing small circles on your arm.

In that moment, it felt like the most natural thing in the world, and neither of you seemed in any hurry to pull away.

Even Peggy noticed the shift. One morning, as you and Noel were sitting at the kitchen table, your chairs pulled a little closer than necessary, she just walked in and raised an eyebrow.

“Well, don’t you two look cozy.” she said, a sly smile tugging at her lips.

You laughed it off, but Noel’s ears turned red as he busied himself with his tea.

And then there were the little gestures. Noel, who had never cared much for shopping, suddenly became incredibly interested in it—specifically, in buying things for you.

One afternoon, you mentioned in passing that you missed a certain brand of chocolate from your hometown. Two days later, Noel showed up with a bag full of it, muttering something about how he just “happened to see it at the shop.”

Liam, of course, didn’t miss the opportunity. “Look at him, eh? He’s oh so conveniently found a stack of her favourite sweets.”

Noel shot him a glare but didn’t bother denying it. If anything, he seemed almost proud of it.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon by the time you returned from running errands. Kicking off your shoes by the door, you carried the groceries into the kitchen, pausing at the faint trace of cologne in the air.

“Evenin’.” you called out as you began unpacking the bag.

“Evenin’, love,” Liam replied, leaning against the living room doorway with his signature smirk. “You’ve just missed the show—our Noel’s been struttin’ about like he’s headlining Wembley.”

Curious, you poked your head into the living room and immediately saw what Liam was on about. Noel was standing by a chair, looking… different. His usual sweater had been swapped for a neatly pressed, blue button-up shirt, his hair styled so it actually framed his face, not sticking out in every direction like usual.

You tilted your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “What’s the occasion?” you asked, your tone light. “Are you goin' town? I thought we were supposed to watch the telly together.”

Noel froze at your words, his gaze darting between you and Liam. “What? No. Yeah—I mean, no. We’re watchin’ the telly. Together. Of course.”

Liam started laughing so hard he had to brace himself against the doorway. “Christ,” he wheezed. “Did you hear that? Smooth as sandpaper, he is. Mate, you’ve been rehearsin’ this all day!”

“Shut it.” Noel snapped, though the pink rising in his cheeks betrayed him.

But Liam wasn’t done. “You even did your hair!” he pointed out, gesturing dramatically toward Noel. “All this for a night sat on your arse. Swear down, he’s gone from humpin’ his guitar to wantin’ to hump the poor bird.”

“Liam!” Peggy’s sharp voice cut through the room as she entered from the hallway, giving her younger son a solid smack on the arm. “Mind your bloody mouth!”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene, your cheeks warming at Liam’s antics. But as Noel stood there, his usual confidence clearly knocked a peg or two, you knew you had to reassure him.

“Oh, don’t be so mean,” you said, stepping closer to Noel and giving Liam a pointed look. Then you turned your attention to Noel, your voice softening. “He’s just jealous. Look at you—you look great.”

Noel blinked, caught completely off-guard.

You smiled, gesturing to his shirt. “Blue suits you. It really brings out your eyes. And the hair—” you reached up without thinking, brushing a strand off his forehead— “yeah, just frames your face dead nice.”

Liam let out a mock gasp, clutching his chest like he’d been wounded. “Bloody hell, you’re feedin’ his ego now? He looks ridiculous.”

“Better than feeding yours,” you shot back, your grin turning playful. “When was the last time you wore something that didn’t look like it came out of a bin bag?”

Liam’s jaw dropped, and he searched for a comeback, but Peggy cut him off with a sharp look. “That’s enough, Liam,” she said, though her lips twitched with amusement. “Go and set the table if you’ve got so much energy to spare.”

Grumbling under his breath, Liam walked off toward the kitchen, leaving you and Noel standing alone.

For a moment, the room was quiet, and you turned back to Noel, who still looked a little stunned. “Sorry if that embarrassed you,” you said, lowering your voice. “I just… wanted you to know you look really nice tonight.”

Noel cleared his throat, finally finding his voice. “Nah, you’re alright,” he muttered, though his tone was softer than usual. His lips quirked into a small, almost shy smile. “Thanks. For that. You didn’t have to…”

“Of course I did,” you replied, shrugging as you gestured toward the couch. “Come on, then. You didn’t get all dressed up just to stand there, did you?”

Noel followed you to the couch without a word, but the faint flush on his cheeks lingered.

The two of you quickly settled side by side in your own little bubble of comfort. The nonsense on the screen barely registered as you both sat there, only half-paying attention. It had become a bit of a routine, watching random shows, making occasional comments, and slipping into silence when the need for words wasn’t there.

You shifted slightly, making yourself more comfortable. Your body brushed against his, and you felt the warmth radiating from him. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and you mirrored the position, just close enough that your knees nearly touched.

Ten minutes passed, the silence stretching between you both, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable. You couldn’t help but notice the way Noel sat there, his arm resting against the back of the couch. A small, part of you wanted him to pull you closer, just a little—just enough for your shoulders to brush or for his arm to casually drape across your shoulders. You had no reason to think that he would. He hadn’t done anything like that yet, but the thought of it swirled in your mind, a quiet longing that seemed to grow the longer you sat there.

You couldn’t help but feel that flutter of nervous excitement. You wanted to be closer, wanted him to reach out to you without it feeling like a game anymore.

You sighed quietly, trying not to let your thoughts get too far ahead of you. It was silly, really, this want. But a small part of you couldn’t deny the warmth in your chest at the idea of him holding you. Not just sitting next to you. Not just being close, but touching you in a way that felt more... more real.

And maybe Noel could feel the shift too, because after a long moment, you noticed him turn just slightly towards you, his arm brushing against yours. It wasn’t much—just a simple movement, a shift of his body, but the connection was there.

For a few more minutes, nothing changed, and you almost started to think that maybe it was just wishful thinking on your part. But then, Noel’s hand moved. He shifted closer, just a fraction, and you didn’t pull away. Your leg brushed against his, his fingers lightly grazed the back of your hand. It wasn’t a gesture that screamed boldness. It was subtle, casual, but the touch made your heart race.

You let out a small breath, realizing just how much you had wanted that connection. And without thinking too much about it, you leaned just a little into him, pressing the side of your shoulder against his arm.

The moment you did, Noel didn’t pull back. Instead, his hand slowly moved to your shoulder, his fingers making the briefest contact before resting there. His touch was light, but it was enough to send a rush of warmth through your body. You glanced up at him, and he caught your eye for a second before quickly looking away, his fingers still resting on your shoulder.

Neither of you said anything, the touch just lingered a little longer than necessary, and you had the sense that Noel, for the first time, was letting it happen, letting that closeness build without pulling away or hiding behind his usual defenses.

You moved your head slightly, resting it against his shoulder, just to test how he might respond. His breath caught, and for a second, you thought he might stiffen or push you away. But instead, he shifted, subtly adjusting himself until he was sitting closer to you, and you were a little more tucked into his side.

The quiet game was starting, but neither of you acknowledged it. It wasn’t a decision made consciously, just two people testing the waters, inch by inch, seeing how far they could go without tipping the balance.

You let your body relax into him, slowly, and before long, you felt his hand shift again. This time, it slid from your shoulder to your waist. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make your pulse quicken.

You couldn’t really pinpoint the exact moment, but before you knew it, you were fully pressed against him. His arm had slid fully around your shoulders now, and your legs were tangled together on the couch. The small space between you had disappeared, leaving you both in a sort of cocoon, limbs entangled as you sat there, side by side, your body against his.

You realized that your head had shifted from his shoulder to rest against his chest, and his hand, still on your waist, had moved to hold your side as he settled further into the couch. Your leg was tucked between his, and you were pretty much half in his lap, your bodies fully intertwined.

It wasn’t awkward, though. It felt right. And before you could second-guess it, you both melted into the moment.

The show was still on in the background, but neither of you were paying attention. Your focus was on each other now—on the way your bodies fit together, the way your hearts were pounding in the silence that surrounded you.

But before you could even process how close you had become, Liam’s voice interrupted.

“Oi, what’s this, then?” he said, standing at the door with his arms crossed, clearly amused by the sight of you two tangled up on the couch. “You two look like a bloody pair of lovebirds.”

Noel tensed immediately, his hand almost going stiff where it rested on your waist, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he gave Liam a lazy glance, still keeping you close.

“Piss off, Liam.” Noel muttered, but it lacked any real heat. His voice was soft, almost protective, like he didn’t want anyone messing with this moment.

You, embarrassed but still laughing, tried to shift away just a little, but Noel’s hand tightened on your waist, keeping you exactly where you were.

“Jesus, Noel. You’ve got her all curled up like a cat.” Liam snickered, but after a moment, he sighed and turned to leave, muttering something about you two getting all soppy.

Once Liam was gone, you glanced back up at Noel. He seemed almost unsure, his eyes flicking to you with a mix of confusion and something else—something you couldn’t quite name yet. You weren’t sure if he was second-guessing the way things had unfolded, but when you shifted in his arms to get more comfortable, you didn’t hesitate. You slipped right back into his embrace, practically shimming your way in once again.

He froze for a second, caught off guard, but when he looked down at you, he didn’t pull away. His arm automatically slid around you once more. “Aren’t you gettin’ a bit too comfy now?” he asked, his voice a little shaky, but he tried to make it sound casual.

You looked up at him, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “Oh yeah, I’ve got the best seat in the house.” you said, a little playfulness in your voice. You felt the familiar warmth spreading through your chest as his arm tightened around you.

You both settled back, the closeness no longer feeling so new. There was something more natural about it now, as though you had finally crossed the line into something deeper.

And when you both laughed at something stupid on screen, you looked up at him. No words were needed. The kiss came easily, both of you giving into it without hesitation.

As it deepened, the urgency became undeniable. His lips pressed harder against yours, and you could feel the way his body moved closer.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging at the strands, feeling his chest against yours as the kiss grew more desperate. You felt his fingers brush down your back, pulling you into him, his body responding just as eagerly as yours.

His lips trailed down your jaw and then to your neck, a soft breath escaping his lips as he kissed along the curve of your skin. You tilted your head, giving him more room, the feeling of his lips against your neck made you shiver, your pulse racing with the intimacy of it all.

When he pulled back, his hands still resting on your back, his eyes quickly found yours. There was a flicker of hesitation, of something unspoken.

You felt the same tension in the air, and for once, you both knew exactly what it was. You’d been dancing around it for weeks, the subtle touches, the stolen glances, the moments when neither of you could pretend anymore.

Noel swallowed, his voice low, almost hesitant, but there was something raw in it that you could feel in your chest. "I—" he started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair as if trying to gather his thoughts. “I don’t know if I’ve ever… been this sure about anything. About you.” His voice was thick with emotion, his eyes flicking down to your lips and then back to your eyes.

You held his gaze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to.” you murmured, your fingers gently brushing along his jaw.

“No,” he said quickly, his hand gripping your wrist gently but firmly, pulling it back to his chest. “I need to say it. Because I’m bloody terrified of this, yeah, but… I need you to know. I… I think I’m in love with you.”

The words hung in the air for a while, and you felt your heart skip a beat as he looked at you with a vulnerable expression.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you couldn’t help the smile that broke across your face. The ache in your chest had been there all along, but hearing him finally say it out loud made everything feel right. You leaned in and kissed him softly, just a press of lips, to reassure him that you felt the same.

When you pulled back, you smiled, your hand still resting on his chest, your fingers brushing his shirt. “I think I’ve been in love with you for a while, too.” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

A relieved laugh escaped him, and he leaned his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “About bloody time, eh?”

You giggled, and your lips found his again, kissing him more deeply this time. You felt his hands sliding to your back, pulling you closer, and your legs shifted, making you slip into his lap with a soft gasp.

His lips moved to your neck, leaving hot, wet kisses that sent shivers down your spine. You moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair, and he groaned, his lips brushing over your pulse point before kissing along the curve of your neck.

You shifted again, your body pressing against his in a way that felt so right, so perfect. Your lips were swollen now, yet neither of you cared, not when you were so lost in the way it felt to be so close to each other. His hands moved back up to your neck, and you gasped when his lips found the sensitive spot just below your ear, kissing it lightly before nibbling gently.

You could feel him smile against your skin, and you laughed softly. When you pulled away for a moment, breathless, you looked at him and whispered, “So, are we official now?”

Noel smirked, his hands still on your waist, and for a second, you both just looked at each other, grinning like idiots. “I’d say so,” he said, his voice low, full of a playful confidence you hadn’t heard before. “But just so you know, you’re stuck with me now. Don’t think you can get rid of me that easy.”

You laughed, kissing him again, your fingers trailing over his chest. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” you murmured against his lips, before diving back into the kiss, both of you losing yourselves in the moment, unable to stop.

________________________________________

cute cute cute xxx

loved the request, I love domestic stuff like that. Hope all you lot will like it as well !!

also, love Noel being labelled as Liam in the gif (swear down I don't know how people confuse them, they look dead different? similar features ofc but come on)

[asarigg]

About: Part 1

this section is meant to be for topics that I didn't include either because it didn't feel very organic with what was being talked about or... honestly I don't remember. Anyway, I hope these can also bring new ideas for you.

YEARS ALONE

Koujaku received his tattoo around the age of 15, and was at least 23 when he returned to the island, leaving a gap of around eight years that he spent completely alone, dealing with his trauma, without help. We don’t know anything about how he lived since then, what kind of contact he had with the rest of his family, because he says that he lost the contact he had with the rest of his family, when he traveled to Midorijima and the border was closed, not before. In those years he had to learn to cut hair, work on his own and gradually separate himself from his family. I always imagined that Koujaku would be homeschooled, instead of going to a normal school, since he was chosen as the heir. Maybe before that he would go to a regular school with other children. Without having a normal education he probably had to go back to studying as an adult to be able to get his degree. I mention some hcs about this later on too.

SCRAP

Observing the elements that appear in his mind, I’ve always wanted to have a bad ending that would involve the Scrap environment, it’s ideal for horror, can you blame me? When Aoba enters, he’s in a dark room, without furniture or decoration. When he goes to another room it turns out to be exactly the same as the previous one, and so on, countless more rooms until finally the appearance changes. For Koujaku being in that house felt like an endless labyrinth, all the rooms seemed equally oppressive, equally caging, hence why they all look the same. And all the doors have a dragon painted on them, wherever he looked, wherever he went, there was no escape, just another dark room, uninviting, cold, strange, disturbing, hostile, suffocating, all while some hairlike snakes chased him, demonstrating just how engraved the image of Ryuuhou is in his mind, torturing him and keeping him prisoner. The dragon painted on the doors has five claws, meaning it's an imperial dragon. The imperial dragon is supposed to represent the chinese emperor, so other dragons had four or three claws. Japanese dragons have a standard of three claws, and you can see three claws on the dragon that is on Ryuuhou's kimono. Maybe this is just meant to be Ryuuhou seeming like a regular, standard person (with a bunch of skulls around his neck uh), but in Koujaku's mind, he reveals his true form, almighty, powerful, someone way superior to him.

When the next room finally changes its appearance, Aoba finds a teenage Koujaku being tattooed, strands of hair enveloping him in a cocoon in a bed drenched with his own blood. And how ironic that the very tattoo that keeps him trapped and transforms him is made of hair.

Also, don’t you find it curious that Koujaku is reborn from a cocoon giving him a connection with butterflies and that Aoba’s dad told him about those big blue butterflies when he was a kid? Yeah… My butterfly kouao art was canon after all, they're not beating the allegations. The butterfly on the vip card of the club too…

DEVELOPMENT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. PATH TO HEALING: part 1

We talked already about Aoba and Koujaku’s relationship, symbolically, already starting long before you even get to their route. Obviously the route is a crisis in their friendship, but the feelings were already emerging long before, so it’s also a "breakup in their romantic relationship". The lack of communication and trust is what makes everything start to fall apart, and given the fact that he leaves with some women right at the beginning, it gives space to the infidelity and jealousy themes. I also have my opinions about this scene, but it’s nothing we haven’t mentioned already and they’re not things unique to them but in the entire game. I think it’s a terrible mistake that all this happens immediately after they walk through the door into PJ. They don’t give you any time to get used to the new environment, when we had Koujaku swearing his loyalty to Aoba and telling him that they would do everything they could to put an end to Toue’s cartoon villain evil plans.

I really think it would have been a good thing if they could wander the streets for a while, making you see that Koujaku is committed to this instead of making him fuck off as soon as he sees a woman, helping with the pace of the story and the feelings you should be having about them. He gives such a carefree image that it feels weird especially coming after the talk he gives to Aoba, it doesn’t feel true to himself.

And yes, it’s true that they leave crumbs, like describing his smile as forced, and that he has a strange expression when he sees the woman with the tattoo, but they are things that could be done later perfectly, and I even think it could work better, because it would leave you more disoriented, which is precisely what you should be thinking at this moment, better than a “okay man whatever”. You don’t even think about these details the first time you read it so the impression is more impactful. I don’t think Koujaku would walk away so soon, even if they ran into the girls as soon as they entered. Ryuuhou ruined his life, as well as his father, it’s not just any family problem, but a snowball of traumas that has been rolling around since his childhood. After years of working on forgetting him and stop seeking revenge, seeing a tattoo probably made by him must have felt like a kick in the balls, like seeing a ghost. He would be surprised and confused, of course, but I don’t know if he would go with them right away. His impulsiveness is important, but as an adult this is more nuanced. It’s not like one of the “provocations” he was responding to before, it’s no direct danger, it’s just a tattoo that might have been made by him, while he also has to keep appearances up next to Aoba. When faced with a personal dilemma he thinks about it a lot more, he hesitates. Maybe he needed time to process all this, to really think about what to do now that his memories are more vivid than ever.

Which btw after Koujaku sees Aoba sleeping in his bed you never see him with women (willingly lol). The ones in the beginning of his route don’t count because that’s for lore reasons :smug face:

Maybe as a result of this, Aoba would notice that his attitude after saying goodbye to those two women has changed, that he seems more quiet and serious, nervous, looking for excuses when Aoba asks him. Maybe later, when they decided to go to rest, instead of going to Glitter with Aoba, he would leave him alone and go see these women after exchanging numbers or something like that. That way, you can feel the role that Koujaku has as Aoba’s friend, and the tension and mystery are built step by step, not throwing it all at once.

Aoba not only gets angry with him when he chooses to go with those women, but rather he gets disappointed, he gets tired. Being in the critical situation they are in, in which they basically have to infiltrate “enemy territory” and overthrow the brainwashing empire of a millionaire bastard, you’d expect him to get angry way more forcefully. Of course we later learn why he does it, but at this moment the only thing that would cross his mind would be to hold it against him, grab his arm and stop him, but none of that happens.

But Aoba’s initial annoyance quickly fades, he seems rather disappointed, sad, especially when he sees them enter a nightclub. Because Koujaku has chosen to go with them instead of staying by his side, leaving him alone. Whenever he goes with these women, Aoba sees him from behind, from a distance. A cold and impersonal posture representative of the distance that is growing between them, as if he was something unattainable for him.

[bluestrawberry7]

definitive height ranking of the main ten bg3 characters

im right they told me themselves

10. last place is minthara lmao she's 5'3" (161cm) max. I love her being tiny and feral. still absolutely ripped, don't get me wrong, just... on a smaller scale. also drow are canonically the shortest elves (drizzt is 5'4"/162cm), and I know women are taller than men, so she'd still be a little under average, but its more middling in menzoberranzen. and she's still above goblins and stuff. but then she joins the party and is just towered over by all these men and surface elves and she is compensating

9. shadowheart is 5'6". she is the physical embodiment of y/n. I guess this is a little short for elves, because of the gender thing, but I just cannot see her being defined as "tall" or "short". like she's short, in comparison to the other companions, but that only emphasizes their enormity because she is so perfectly average.

8. I like wyll being 5'8"/173cm or so bc he just so thoroughly embodies short king energy. think of that marcello hernandez bit where he's like short kings put in the work, not because we wanted to, but because we had to. I'm sorry but wyll is just way too kind and good at dancing to have lived his whole life over 5'9". bro is tom holland. (his dad is comfortably over six feet. this is definitely not a source of contention)

7. astarion, I think, is canonically 5'9"/175cm, which is tall for male elves, but not by a ridiculous margin. i think it fits into him being like, default-ly desirable, where he sort of fits into a lot of different relationship molds without it looking weird, because its a whole part of his character than he's conventionally attractive. like the vampire stuff is the interesting part, but without that he looks averagely, disposably pretty, which is why so many people see right through him.

6. gale is exactly one inch taller than astarion. I like him being a kind of remus-lupin tall, where he like slouches a lot and doesn't super recognize it, which is amplified by the fact that he spent the majority of his adult life exclusively around tara and a literal goddess. he doesn't really grasp the social implications.

5. lae'zel ends up around gale-height (5'10"/178cm). I know some people swear by shortzel, but I like the idea of githyanki being gangling and alien. her in-game model doesn't look like it should be that tall, but her limbs are just a bit too long. I like her walking around camp in an uncanny valley way, where she looks so clearly 5'6" until she's standing right next to you.

4. I picture jaheira in her prime as taylor swift with elf ears. she's just under six foot, or ~181cm. its that whole thing about presidents/authority figures tending to be taller, because people like to literally look up to their leaders for some reason. she just has that confidence. she's not like outrageously tall, and she's totally comfortable with minsc etc being taller than her, but she's just. six feet tall.

3. karlach!! is 6'2"/188cm!!! (not including horns). I've seen people say she's a little more than that, but I don't think most people are grasping how tall 6'2" is, especially if you're like fully built. like, rhea ripley is 5'7". karlach is a UNIT. anything above 6'2" is reaching freak-of-nature status, where height is like. the only thing you see when you look at them.

2. speaking of freaks of nature, minsc is 6'4"/193cm, and he has been since he was like 13. he has lived his whole life being taller than 97% of people he meets. he had to be pulled aside in gym class and warned that he couldn't wrestle the other kids anymore because he might crush them. and he was heartbroken!! because he's like!! a great dane!!!! and he just wants to play!!

1. halsin is comically large. ≥6'5"/196cm. he is a statistical anomaly. i think he canonically assumes he's part orc, but I think it's funnier if he's literally just an elf. his parents are 5'6". he's never even worked out. doctors hate him.

the only race-related halsin theory i'll accept is that he's a bear who turned into a human and not the other way around

[sequinsmile-x]

The Way to the Words

Emily struggles to tell Aaron she loves him. At least, she struggles to tell him in English.

AKA - 5 times Emily tells Aaron she loves him in another language, and 1 time she says it in English.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is an idea I've been playing around with for a while, but was spurred on to write it after I got an anon about Emily and all of the languages she speaks.

This is soft (because we all deserve softness right now) and hopefully funny in parts! These idiots love each other a whole lot.

Also, just a note that I don't speak any of the other languages in this. Where possible, I have run the line past someone I know who speaks it, or I have run it back and forth through several online translators to make sure it's as correct as I can make it, and read articles on word positioning/how it should be written.

(Second also: I know Arabic is meant to go from right to left, but Tumblr won't let me format it like that, but it is correct on Ao3)

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: the tiniest, smallest, bit of spice possible. Blink and you miss it kind of stuff. (Rated T)

Words: 6.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One

Technically, she’s the one to say it first. It’s something she tells him years down the line when they talk about the early days of them, her smile soft and sleepy as their baby rests on her chest as she insists that she’d whispered those three little words weeks before he had. 

She just so happened to say them in a language he didn’t understand. 

The first time, she doesn’t plan it. 

They walk back to her apartment after their first date, their hands tangled together as they swing them back and forth ever so slightly. She was anxious. Shy in a way she hadn’t been in years, and she knows it’s everything to do with him and how he makes her feel. It’s something about his smile and the way he looked at her that would make her feel giddy. It would feel ridiculous if it was anyone else. If it wasn’t Aaron, the man she’d been in love with for longer than she could admit even to herself, she’d tell herself to get it together, would remind herself she wasn’t a lovesick teenager but a grown woman. 

With him, it didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t care that she’d spent hours picking something to wear, or that she’d curled her hair twice. She wanted to make the effort, to take her time for what she knew would be her first last date. A small part of her had worried at first that things would be awkward, but it had been like their dinners usually were, only with hand holding across the table and the occasional kiss exchanged between anecdotes. She wanted to know everything about him, everything big and small, and she wanted him to know everything about her too. Wanted him to help her break through the walls she didn’t know how to tear down herself, wanted to hand him the tools she’d never shared with anyone else. 

Her shoulder knocks against his as she digs her keys out of her bag, and he smiles at her, his hand slipping to her hip as she unlocks the door. She looks up at him, sees the uncertainty in his eyes, and leans up to kiss him, her lips catching the corner of his. 

“Do you want to come in?” She asks, smiling when his eyes go a little wide, his own anxiety about what to do and how to act obvious. He’d told her it had been a long time since he’d been out on a date, that he was unsure how to act and what to do, and she’d kissed him, barely pulling back to tell him that she was out of practice too and that she didn’t expect any more than just him. He had arrived to pick her up with flowers nonetheless, a bunch of sunflowers squished between them when she kissed him as he explained he’d picked flowers that wouldn’t poison Sergio. She places her hand over his on her hip and squeezes, “For a drink,” she smiles and winks at him, “And maybe some more kissing.” 

He laughs and nods, “Of course, I’ll come in Em.” 

She leads him inside and locks the door behind them, secretly hoping she won’t unlock it again tonight, that he’ll stay in whatever capacity he’s comfortable with and that she’ll wake up next to him in the morning. 

“Wine?” She asks, as she walks towards her kitchen, “Or I have a very nice scotch that Dave bought me along with a cast iron skillet as a moving in present.” 

Aaron had been her first visitor to her apartment upon her return from Paris, and Dave had been her second. It wasn’t the best place she’d ever lived, but also not the worst. It was good enough for what she needed for now, and the best she could do for a person whose credit score had reset when she’d ‘died,’ and who had only just gained access back to her trust fund. For a few months, whilst legalities were unravelled and everything that had been put in place in the wake of her death was reversed, she’d lived like most people did - on her salary. 

Aaron chuckles as he follows closely behind her, his hands in his pockets as he looks her up and down and makes no secret of it, “He got me the same thing when I moved out of the house and into my apartment,” he says, leaning his hip against the kitchen island, “He said no home is complete without one.” 

“He said the same to me,” She laughs, “I wonder if he just has a closet full of the things for when someone he knows moves.” She lifts up the bottle of scotch, “So scotch?” 

“Yes please.” 

She pours them both a generous measure and hands him one of the glasses, her fingers skipping across his as he takes it from her, “Let’s go sit down.” 

She sinks against him on the couch, giving him no chance to overthink their closeness or what she’d want. She pulls a nearby throw over their laps and rests her head on his shoulder, the mix of the smell of him and the scotch enough to relax her, a contented sigh escaping her before she could even try to contain it. He wraps his arm around her, his hand against the bare skin of her arm so he can trace patterns against her, chasing a shiver he causes with the callouses on his fingertips. 

“You okay?” He asks, and she hums as she nods, tilting her head upwards so she can kiss him, the hand not wrapped around her glass on his cheek so she can hold him in place. 

“I’m fine. More than fine,” she says, kissing him again, “Thank you for a lovely date.” 

He smiles and holds her closer, “You’re welcome,” he clears his throat, the anxiety he’d felt earlier making a speedy return, “We should do it again soon. If you want.” 

“Of course I want to,” she replies, as if it’s obvious - because to her it is - but her smile slips when she sees relief in his eyes and she frowns as she takes his glass of scotch from him and places in on the coffee table with hers, “Aaron, why wouldn’t I want to go on another date with you?” 

He shrugs as she turns to look at him properly, her knees pressing against his thigh as she uses the hand on his cheek to make him look at her. He sighs and his hand falls to her knee, his thumb catching the hem of her dress as he runs it back and forth. 

“I don’t know,” he breathes out, “I guess I’m waiting for you to realise you could do better than me.”

That’s what does it in the end, what makes the admission she’d been holding back all night escape without warning. Her concern that it’s too soon kicks in too late to say nothing, so she falls back on an old trick from when she was young and wanted to curse at her parents without them knowing. 

She speaks in another language. 

“Я люблю тебя.” 

He furrows his brows together and fights a smile. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, the use of the nickname making her breath catch in her throat, “I don’t speak…I want to say Russian?” 

She chokes on a laugh and nods, “Yeah, that…was Russian,” she presses her lips together, “Sorry, I said ‘nothing’s better than you.’”

If he knows she’s lying, he doesn’t say anything. He nods as he accepts her answer and he leans in to kiss her, his lips stamped against hers before he pulls back. 

“Nothing is better than you either.” 

He stays the night, and when she wakes up with his arms wrapped around her she wishes she’d been brave enough to say it in a way he understood.

___

Two

She grumbles as she sinks onto the couch, curling in on herself as a cramp rolls through her belly. She’s about to talk herself into getting up to take painkillers, her medicine cabinet never having felt further away, when there’s a knock on the door followed by the sound of the key in the lock. 

“Sweetheart?” 

She groans as she sits up, looking at her boyfriend over the back of her couch, “What are you doing here?” 

“It’s nice to see you too,” he quips as he steps into her apartment, holding up a bag from CVS, “I brought you some supplies. I can leave afterwards if you want.” 

She hums and watches as he locks the front door behind him, “Where’s Jack?” 

“By the time I left the office he’d already eaten with Jess, and when I told him you weren’t feeling very well he told me to come look after you.” 

She smiles as he sits next to her, “I really am fine,” she says, taking the bag as he hands it to her, her eyes going wide when she sees the bag full of her favourite candy, painkillers and a couple of boxes of tampons. She looks up at him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t entirely understand, “How did you know? I only told you that my stomach hurt.” 

He smiles at her, his dimples carved out deep in his cheeks, “I lived with Haley most of my adult life. And I am a grown-up. I know what a period is, Em.” 

It makes her ache. Makes her feel stupid for even trying to hide this from him in the first place, her jaw tight and her temper wearing thin when she’d almost yelled at him when he asked if she was okay for the dozenth time that day. She’d left the office the moment she could and told him she’d call him later, forcing a smile as familiar cramps she’d felt for most of her life rolled through her. If she was honest with herself, she’d wanted to bask in his comfort. To lean against him as he laid his giant, warm, hand on her stomach like he was her own personal heating pad, but she didn’t how to ask. She should have known that she didn’t need to ask. He’d always been better at figuring out what she needed before she did anyway. 

She nods and presses her lips together, “You even got the right brand.” 

He shrugs, “I only bought the ones you have in your bathroom.” 

She laughs, “I once asked a boyfriend to buy me tampons and he looked at me like I’d asked him to murder someone for me.” 

“Well, it sounds like he didn’t deserve you.” 

She looks up at him, her lips pressed tightly together, and she reaches out for his hand, “Thanks honey, this is…really sweet.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says and he leans in to kiss her cheek but she turns her head to capture his lips instead. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he kisses her again, lingering a little longer this time, and she sighs into it, “I can go home if you’d rather be alone.” 

She’s shaking her head before she can even really think about it, “No,” she replies, “I want you to stay.” 

He kisses her before he pulls back, “I’ll make us some hot chocolate, and bring you some water so you can take your painkillers. And then we’ll watch whatever sci-fi nonsense you want to watch.” 

She scoffs in fake annoyance, “It’s not nonsense,” she grumbles, narrowring her eyes at him playfully, “And I’ll have you know I was thinking of watching Die Hard.” 

He furrows his brow as he turns to look at her, “That’s a Christmas movie.” 

She groans and flops back onto the couch, tearing a pack of the candy he’d brought her open, “Don’t tell me I’m dating a guy who thinks Die Hard is a Christmas movie.” 

He raises his eyebrow at her from her kitchen counter, the tin of hot chocolate mix in his hands, “It’s set at Christmas.” 

“That doesn’t make it a Christmas movie, honey. There’s no small town girl visiting home from the big city for the holidays,” she says, unable to fight her smile when he smiles widely at her, the warmth of it settling over her like a comforting blanket from across the room, “And there’s no Santa Claus, and Kate Winslet doesn’t swap houses with Cameron Diaz,” she pops some candy into her mouth, “It’s not a Christmas movie.” 

“You’ve given this some thought,” he replies, smiling fondly at her, his eyes sparkling like she’d hung the stars themselves, “I guess we can watch it. Even if it is set at Christmas.” 

She throws a piece of candy at him, her fake irritation dying when he picks it up from the counter and eats it, the way he waggles his eyebrows drawing a laugh out of her. 

She rests her head in his lap when he joins her on the couch, her back to him as they watch the movie and he switches between playing with her hair and placing his hand on her belly unprompted, once again anticipating her needs. It was strange feeling loved like this, because she knew that’s what this was even if they hadn’t admitted it to each other yet. She’d never been cared for and enjoyed it or felt as if the other person wasn’t doing it out of obligation. 

She finds herself stuck again between wanting to say it and not being able to push past her fear. Instead, she reaches for his hand and links their fingers together, dragging them to her lips so she can kiss his knuckles as she mumbles against them, whispering so he doesn’t hear the Arabic she presses against his skin.

"أحبك"

“What did you say, sweetheart?” 

She shakes her head and turns back to look at him, “Nothing. Just…thank you for looking after me.” 

He stops himself from repeating what he’d said earlier and he nods, pushing her hair from her face, “Anytime.” 

___

Three

She’s bored of feeling like an exhibit at the zoo. 

Ever since she and Aaron had told the team about their relationship they’d been watching them closely, their attempts at hiding their fascination with their relationship almost non-existent. At work, it was bad enough, but here, in Dave’s house, as they had dinner together, it annoyed her. Every time they touched each other, or showed each other the tiniest bit of affection, the team would smile and nudge each other. 

She eventually excuses herself from the living room to the kitchen to get another glass of wine, needing a moment without being stared at so she doesn’t snap at some of the people she loves most in the world. 

She sighs and takes a large gulp of wine, closing her eyes as she swallows it, desperately trying to calm herself down, to soothe her fraying nerves. 

“Are you okay sweetheart?” 

She turns and smiles when she hears Aaron’s voice and she blows out a breath, “I just needed a minute.” 

He nods and points over his shoulder back towards the living room, “Do you want me to go?”

She loves him for it. Loves how well he knows her and how well he loves her, and she shakes her head and offers him a hand, “Never.” 

He walks over and wraps his arms around her, “They mean well. They just have to get used to it.”

She hums and loops her arms around his neck, “I know. I just wish they’d get used to it faster,” she huffs, “I hate feeling like a zoo animal.” 

“I know,” he says, running his hand up and down her back, “Me too.” He says, and she leans in to kiss him, pulling him closer as she sighs into it. When she pulls back, he stamps another kiss against her lips, “That’s a nice wine.” 

She chuckles, running her fingers through the short hair at the base of his head, “Barolo del Comune di La Morra,” she says, nodding towards the bottle on the kitchen island, “It’s Italian. Very nice wine. Not that you’d expect anything less from Dave.” 

“Say that again,” he says, his smile wide and bright, his eyes sparkling with as close to mischief as they ever did, “The name of the wine.” 

She presses her lips together and leans in to kiss him again, punctuating each word with a kiss, “Barolo…del…Comune…di…La…Morra.”

He barely hides a moan as she pulls back, just about able to remember where they were as he squeezes her hips, “You’re so beautiful,” he says, “Say something else.” 

She giggles, something only he was able to draw out of her, “In Italian?” She asks, and he nods. It feels like an invitation to carry on doing what she’d unintentionally started, and she leans in to kiss him, only pulling back far enough to speak, “Penso che tu sia l'amore della mia vita.” 

He smiles, even though he doesn’t understand, “What does that mean?” 

“I love the wine,” she says, hating that she can’t tell him the truth, that she can’t push past the fear she isn’t entirely sure she understands, “And you’re handsome.” 

He leans in to kiss her again, but they are stopped by someone clearing their throat in the doorway. Emily feels her cheeks go warm when she looks up to see Dave standing there, the look on his face letting her know just how much he’d heard. 

“Well, this is adorable.” 

She feels Aaron’s grip on her tighten and she lets her arms slip down from around his neck and she squeezes his hand. 

“Why don’t you go back through, honey?” She suggests, squeezing his hand again, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He almost questions it, she can see the argument he has with himself over it, but he nods instead, leaning in to kiss her cheek before he steps away, his hands in his pockets and his smile tight as he walks past Dave. She waits until he is out of earshot and she crosses her arms over her chest, “How much of that did you hear?” 

“Enough to know you’re playing a dangerous game,” Dave replies as he walks closer to her, “So…you love him?” 

“I…” she trails off, the words caught in her chest and she groans, tightening her arms over her chest. 

“Relax, bella. Even Reid only has to look at you to know you two love each other,” he says, smirking when she glares at him, “So why didn’t you tell him the truth? Worried he doesn’t feel the same way? Because I think it would be less of a waste of time to wonder if the Pope is Catholic.” 

She sighs and shakes her head, “No, it’s not that. I know he feels the same way. It’s just…” She blows out a shaky breath and laughs at herself, “I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never loved someone this much. It’s like my happiness depends on his, and it’s fucking terrifying.” 

He stares at her for a moment, his smirk disappearing as he nods in understanding, “I know it is,” he replies, patting her shoulder, “But you’ll get there. Take it from an old man who’s been around the block a few times. What you two have is rare,” he smiles at her, “I’m actually annoyed at myself for not seeing it sooner.” 

She smiles, “What, me and Aaron?” 

He nods, “I should have put money on you two years ago. You’ll get there, Emily. And he won’t mind if it takes a while. Because he loves you too.” 

She presses her lips together and nods, because she knows he’s right, “Thanks.” 

“No need to thank me,” he says, winking at her, “Just make sure Aaron makes me best man when you get married.” 

She rolls her eyes and fights off the desire to tell him to shut up, or deny that it was where this was all going, “I think that’s his choice, don’t you?” 

“Okay,” he says, shrugging at her, “Godfather of your firstborn then.” 

She scoffs, the sound turning into a laugh when it’s halfway out, and she can’t stop herself this time, “Oh shut up, Dave.” 

The thought of it makes her giddy, makes her stomach flip in a pleasant way, and she can’t shift her smile for the rest of the evening. 

___

Four 

Emily sighs contentedly as she flips the page of her book, snuggling further into the comfort of Aaron’s bed, the scent of him lingering on the sheets. 

The bedside table on her side of his bed was starting to look like hers. It’s where she kept the book she was reading and her favourite hand cream and other trinkets that had somehow ended up at his place. A necklace she’d taken off after work one day and left there. Her father’s watch. It was already starting to feel like home. But she had a feeling that had more to do with the little boy asleep down the hall and the man whose bed she was in, not the apartment itself. 

She was starting to spend more of her nights here than she wasn’t. She’d go home to feed Sergio, to scratch his head and sit with him for a while, and then she’d go to Aaron’s, let herself in with the key he’d given her weeks ago, and spend the night. He kept telling her to bring Sergio over with her, that he’d happily get a litter tray, food and whatever he needed, and it made her love him more. She was slightly resistant, not only because Sergio didn’t seem to like him that much, but because it felt like a huge step forward. An admittance that she couldn’t bring herself to say yet no matter how much she wanted to. 

The bedroom door opens and she looks up, her smile wide as she puts her book down, “Is Jack okay?” 

Aaron nods as he climbs into bed next to her, “He’s asleep,” he says, smiling as he pulls the covers over his lap and tugs her close, “He said he wants you to do bedtime next time.” 

She bites her lower lip, desperately trying to hold in a smile, her love for the two of them threatening to burst out of her, “Really?” 

“Really,” he says, kissing her forehead, “I’m not the only Hotchner in love with you.” She freezes, her shoulders tight as the admission washes over her, a choking sound of sorts escaping her. It seems to alert Aaron to what he’d said, and his eyes go wide. He swallows thickly and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “I…mean it Em. I might not have meant to blurt it out that way,” he says, smiling when she does too, “But I mean it. I love you.” 

Her silence is loud, echoing around them before it weighs heavily on them, settling on their shoulders as she tries and fails to say anything, “I…” 

She feels like a failure. Like a coward, because what was so wrong with her that she couldn’t tell the man she was in love with that she loved him. She curses every bad relationship she’d ever had, she curses her parents, and everyone who ever made it hard for her to accept love and affection, because Aaron deserved someone who could give that to him without thought. 

He deserved so much more than she could give him right now, and it made her ache. 

“Em,” he says, his smile too kind, “I’m not expecting you to say anything back,” he adds, pulling her closer, “I didn’t even mean to say it myself yet,” he stamps his lips against hers, “It’s okay.” It doesn’t feel okay. It feels ridiculous and she surges forward, her hands on his cheeks as she holds him in place, deepening the kiss so she can show him how she feels even if she can’t say it yet. She shifts so she’s in his lap, rolling her hips against his as she wraps her arms around his neck. He tenses, his hands firm on her hip as he tries to pull back “Sweetheart-”

She can see the doubt in his eyes, not in her, but in what she was trying to do, “Aaron,” she kisses him again, knocking her nose against his as she rests their foreheads together, “Please.” 

He looks at her carefully, tries to see the tiniest piece of uncertainty in her eyes, and he nods when he doesn’t find it, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers before he kisses her again. They undress each other slowly, and he rolls them so she’s under him, trapped between the warmth of his body and the sheets beneath her. It’s soft. Tender in a way she hadn’t known existed before him, something that she thinks would make her feel exposed with anyone else, and she links her fingers through his afterwards, lifting their hand to her lips to kiss his knuckles as she smiles at him, hoping he knows what she can’t put into words he understands yet. 

He falls asleep before her. It’s rare. Usually, she fell asleep first and woke up last, comforted by his arms and the safety that seemed to come with them. She lays there in the dark next to him, his arm heavy and warm over her waist, his breath even as it skips across the back of her neck, and she berates herself for not being able to give him what he needed, what she so desperately wanted to give him. 

Eventually, she turns in his arms, looks at him in the dark, his features just about visible now her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light. He looked younger like this, boyish almost, and it makes her love him more. She reaches out and strokes his cheek, smiling when he twitches but doesn’t wake up, his head moving in the direction of her hand, chasing her and her presence even in sleep. 

“Aaron,” she whispers, waiting to see if he’s awake, if his breathing changes, and when it doesn't she sighs, “Te quiero. Siento no poder decirlo todavía. Pero te quiero.”

She leans in to kiss his cheek and lingers there for a moment before she lays back against his chest, snuggles into him as deeply as she can and she closes her eyes, hoping she’ll fall asleep. 

When she wakes up in the morning, he’s already awake and smiling at her, and it somehow makes her feel worse.

___

Five 

“I can’t do it.” 

Aaron tries to hide his smile, she’ll give him that. He tries to swallow it down but fails as he turns to look at her and raises his eyebrow at her. She glares at him from her side of the couch and kisses the top of Sergio’s head twice in quick succession, scratching under his chin as she does so. 

“I’ve seen you stare a serial killer in the eyes and not blink,” he clears his throat to hide a laugh, “But you can’t give your cat medication?” 

She huffs out a breath and holds Sergio closer as she pouts in a way she’d deny if Aaron brought it up. Sergio had an ear infection, and whilst he’d been strangely okay with her cleaning his ears, he was resistant to medication. He’d eaten around it when she’d tried to hide it in his food, had ignored treats she’d tried to stuff it inside. He was refusing to take it, and that meant she had to make him take it. 

“I don’t want him to hate me,” she says, tearing her gaze away from Sergio to look up at Aaron, “Or for him to be afraid of me.” 

She watches as Aaron nods, once again stifling a smile, and she wonders if he’s going to tell her she’s as being as ridiculous as she feels. Instead, he sighs and offers his hands out, “I’ll do it.” 

She tilts her head at him in confusion, “What?” 

“He already hates me,” Aaron says, smiling when she rolls her eyes. 

“He doesn’t hate you-”

“He does, sweetheart,” he replies, his smile getting wider, “But if I do it, it’s not like he can hate me anymore, and his love for you will remain intact.” 

She knows it’s irrational, but she almost wants to be mad at him for the way he makes her love him even more. He was willing to do this for her, willing to accept her, admittedly silly, concerns about her cat hating her, and do what she couldn’t bring herself to do. For a moment, she pictures him holding a baby that was half her and half him whilst they took them to get their shots so she didn’t have to, and then passing the baby back over as soon as the deed was done so she could be their source of comfort. She has to shake her head to get rid of the image, to remember the soft weight in her arms was Sergio and not a small baby, and she sighs and nods as she passes him over. Sergio meows in displeasure, wiggling as he proves Aaron’s point as he tries to get a hold of him. 

“Do you have the medication?” Aaron asks, raising his eyebrow at her as she actively ignores his poorly hidden smirk as Sergio pushes his paw against Aaron’s face. She nods and hands him one of the pills and he takes it from her. He’s gentle as he grasps Sergio’s head and tilts it backwards until his nose is pointing upwards and his jaw opens slightly. Aaron drops the pill into his mouth and then lowers his head back down, holding his mouth closed until he visibly swallows, “There we go,” Aaron says, smiling at her as he lets go of Sergio, who immediately walks over to Emily’s side of the couch and climbs in her lap, meowing all the way, “And look at that, he still loves you.” 

She smiles at him, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks, and she snuggles Sergio against her chest, making sure she’s giving him plenty of head scratches as she does so, “Tell me all about it, baby. What did the mean man do to you?” 

Aaron chuckles and leans in to kiss her temple, “If he didn’t hate me already, he will by the time his course of antibiotics is done with.” 

She hums and turns her head, capturing his lips with hers, “Thank you. I know it’s silly-”

“You’ve never been silly a day in your life,” he says, kissing her again, “Do you want a drink?” 

“Yes please, honey,” She nods and presses her lips together, the words getting the closest to escaping as they ever had, the way he looked after her in ways she never could have pictured almost tipping her over the edge, whatever had been holding her back getting weaker by the day, “There’s some red wine on the counter.”

“Coming right up,” he says, winking at her before he stands. It makes Sergio hiss at him, and Aaron throws her a look that could only say I told you so as he walks away. 

“You have to be nice to Aaron, you know,” she says, talking to Sergio as she scratches between his ears, “He’s not going anywhere,” she sighs, “Je l’aime aussi. Je ne peux juste pas le dire.” 

“Did you say something, sweetheart?” Aaron asks as he walks back into the room. She shakes her head when she looks up at him, smiling when she sees the two glasses and the bottle of wine in his hands, and the pack of her favourite candy dangling off his finger. 

She wanted to say it to him, but after everything, after not being able to say it back when he’d said it to her a couple of weeks ago, she wanted it to mean something. 

“No,” she replies as he sits next to her, “I was just talking to Sergio.” 

He nods in understanding and puts the wine and her candy down on the coffee table, “Speaking of Sergio,” he says, opening up his palm to reveal a treat in his hand, “I thought he deserved this for being so brave.” He offers his hand out to Sergio who looks at him suspiciously for a few moments before he happily eats the treat out of his hand and starts purring. Aaron laughs and takes the opportunity to scratch between Sergio’s ears, which the cat leans into, “Maybe he’ll love me after all.” 

“Yeah,” she replies, biting the inside of her cheek to contain her smile, “He’d be a fool not to.” 

___

+  One 

“Anyone want to go for a drink?” 

Emily drops her pen down on her desk and turns to face the others, “I’m up for it.” 

“Of course you are, princess,” Derek says, smirking when she glares at him, “Do you think you could convince Hotch?” 

She smiles, “I could convince him of anything.” 

Derek groans, “God, I don’t want to know that.” 

She laughs as she stands up and she winks at him, “You asked. You okay to gather everyone else?” 

He nods and she walks up to Aaron’s office. She takes a moment to watch him through the window. He has his head down, his focus on the paperwork in front of him, and he looks every part of the stern, focused man she’d first met. He looks up at her, his eyes meeting hers, and then he smiles at her, a flash of her Aaron peeking out from beneath Hotch in the very room she’d met him in. He gives her a small nod and she walks in, making sure she closes the door behind her.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” 

She nods and walks over to his desk, keeping a respectable distance because she knows the others will be watching, “I’m okay. Derek is organising everyone to go out for drinks. I’ve been sent to rally you.” 

He chuckles, “They already know I can’t say no to you.” 

“Honey, we all know that,” she replies, “So is that a yes?” 

Aaron smiles, “I’d love to, but I have budgets to do, unfortunately, they’re important,” he says, his smile getting wider when she looks disappointed, “I could meet you later though.” 

“Yeah?” She asks, sinking her teeth into her lower lip, and he nods, “Okay, so we’ll meet you there?” 

“I’ll meet you there,” he smiles, her smile, and winks at her, “See you later.”

She smiles and turns to the door, reaching out for the handle as she replies, “See you later. Love you.” 

It takes her a moment to realise what she’s said, and she freezes, her breath caught in her chest as the words float in the air around them, as light as a feather in comparison to the heavy weight it had been on her shoulders for weeks now. She almost laughs, the absurdity at the easy, simple way she said it after she’d overthought it for so long not lost on her. The admission as simple as it was beautiful, as if they’d exchanged it as often as they had kissed, as if it wasn’t the first time she’d said it. Like it was something she’d said countless times before. She smiles to herself as she turns around because, in some ways, she has said it before. 

This was just the first time he’d understood her. 

She smiles nervously at him when their eyes meet, “Sorry,” she says, clearing her throat, “That…that wasn’t how I intended on saying that for the first time.”

He stares at her for a moment like she’s a skittish animal, like she might bolt if he made even the slightest of movements. He’d been careful to not tell her again since that first time a couple of weeks ago, like he was scared he’d push her away. He’d get part way through and then stop himself, smiling at her in a way that could only mean you know how I feel. It had hurt more than she thought it would, something that made her feel hypocritical because she hadn’t said it at all. 

She’s mad at herself for letting it slip like this because she’d wanted it to be special. But then he smiles at her in a room he’d once scowled at her in on that first day they’d met, and she doesn’t think it could have been any more perfect if she’d planned it. It was like their love story had permeated the walls. Like it was carved into them in a way someone would find in years to come when they were gone. When they’d moved on to somewhere new, their future still laid out in front of them as they stood by each other’s side. 

“No, don’t apologise. Never apologise for this,” he says, finally snapping into action, his pen hitting his desk with a thunk as he stands up. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to pull her into a hug or kiss, but then he remembers where they are, his eyes darting to the window of his office and the team all in the bullpen. He stops right in front of her and grabs her hand, their linked fingers out of view from everyone else, “I love you.” 

She presses her lips together and nods, every reason she had for being too afraid to tell him gone as if they’d never existed, “I love you too. I have for a long time. I hope you know it was never because I didn’t love you. I just…”

“I know,” he replies, squeezing her hand, “And I would have waited forever.” 

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her chest, “Forever? That would have been awkward at our wedding one day.” 

He laughs too and runs his thumb back and forth over her pulse point, “We would have made it work.” 

She wants nothing more than to kiss him, but she knows she can’t, not here anyway, and she blows out a breath, “I really wish I could kiss you right now.” 

“Me too,” he says, looking at her like she was the only thing in existence, like the world could burn around them and he wouldn’t notice because he was looking at her, “Later.” 

“Later,” she repeats, “I don’t want to go for drinks with the team anymore. I just want to go home with you.”

“We’ll have plenty of time for us, sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand again, their palms practically fused together, as if they were merging into one, one soul that had been split into two for all eternity until now, “Let’s go spend some time with our friends. 

“Plenty of time?” She repeats in a question, as if she didn’t already know he was it, that they were it, and he was the answer to the question she’d never known to ask. 

“Forever,” he confirms, and she swallows thickly, her heart almost beating out of her chest as she nods in response. 

“Forever.” 

[florencechase]

So I came across the Mayfair Witches thing with Lestat and Felix, and like pretty much everyone on here I was bummed but then I though about it for a very long time, went through the books again and… here’s how I think they can still make it work. Just as a disclaimer though, I’ve only fully read IWTV and TVL, and am currently like 1/3 through QOTD, so if there’s anything in the books after that that disproves my theory I’m sorry! But since the Lestat/Felix arc takes place towards the end of IWTV, I thought I’d still give it a go.

So the main issue here that people bring up is that if Lestat taught Felix to “cull the herd”, he can’t be book Lestat because book Lestat admits to only killing the “evildoers”, so why would he tell Felix to be so merciless? The answer: it’s complicated.

Lestat, the book and the show version, is unfortunately (or fortunately because that’s part of what makes him so interesting) a man who often does the opposite of what he says. I took a closer look at his first moments with Gabrielle after he turns her, and we have a similar situation in which he’s teaching her how to kill. Here’s an excerpt from it:

“I found a victim as soon as we had crossed the river […] [a]nd as I lured the victim out of the tavern, as I teased him, maddened him, and then took him, I knew I was showing off for her, making it a little crueler, more playful. And when the kill came, it had an intensity to it that left me spent afterwards.” (TVL, p. 147)

When he’s teaching others how to kill, he likes to show off. Simple as that. I’m sure the victim he chose was a criminal, like most his victims, but the point is he never told Gabrielle that. To her knowledge what Lestat just did was brutally murder some random man. Two pages later we have the following passage when Gabrielle makes her first kill and it’s the guy on the horse she ends up stealing the clothes from:

“I was shaken. The innocence of her victims didn’t trouble her. She didn’t fight my moral battles. But then I didn’t fight them anymore either, so why should I judge her? Yet the ease witch which she slew the young man – gracefully breaking his neck when the little drink she took was not enough to kill him – angered me tough it had been extremely exciting to watch. She was colder than I. She was better at all of it, I thought. Magnus had said, “Show no mercy.” But had he meant us to kill when we did not have to kill?” (TVL, pp. 149-150)

Lestat obviously doesn’t feel comfortable killing innocent people, but there’s not one scene in which he either tells someone he’s having moral dilemmas with it, or tells others they shouldn’t kill innocent people. It’s his thing, and it’s his struggle, but he never shares it until he writes about it in TVL. Here’s another excerpt that highlights this:

“When [Louis] says I played with innocent strangers, befriending them and then killing them, how was he to know that I hunted almost exclusively among the gamblers, the thieves, and the killers, being more faithful to my unspoken vow to kill the evildoer than even I had hoped I would be?” (TVL, pp. 434-435)

The key phrase here is “how was he to know”, so Louis had no idea! All this time he spent with Louis, and he never told him that’s what he was doing! Which brings me back to the show, to the reunion moment where Lestat tells Louis “I don’t like to point out my virtues.”

Of course, in the context he’s talking about not telling him he saved him at the trial, but it’s a pretty general statement about himself and it’s true, so far, in the book. He only kills innocent people, never tells anyone about it. He saves Louis at the trial, never tells anyone about it. And while I’ve seen some theories about how him not telling Louis he saved him was part of some pact he made with Armand, I’m just going to take things at face value here until the show proves otherwise.

Lestat always claims he’s “evil” in the books, but he does a whole bunch of stuff to disprove that. I think part of why he doesn’t let people know his good deeds is because there’s a part of him that wants to be perceived as the “evil monster” that he sees himself as. It’s the biggest irony ever for Lestat out of all vampires to claim he’s evil when he’s never acted with malicious intent (in the books, but I would even say in the show as well but the show is more complex in that regard).

The big thing about Lestat, which would also set him apart from show!Louis is that he does his thing and lets others do their thing. He doesn’t interfere with others, doesn’t tell them how to live their lives “the correct way”. Sure, he has many heated discussions about it with Nicki, but those are not him telling Nicki he should live according to his philosophy just because he thinks it’s the correct way to view life. Nicki hates himself at that point, which just gets worse with his way of thinking, and Lestat’s trying to pull him out of that. Nicki’s worldview is actively harmful to him and at least part of the reason for his eventual demise. But that’s not really relevant here, so I’m just going to leave it at that.

Which brings me back to Felix and Lestat. Did he, at some point, go out of his shack to kill people to show Felix how to do it? Not necessarily. The show doesn’t say he did, he could’ve simply just told him how to do it, he did after all figure it out himself too. It’s pretty intuitive I suppose for a vampire, and even when Claudia does her first kill Lestat isn’t shown killing first. He waits in the car with Louis and Claudia manages just fine.

Lestat knows what’s in their nature as vampires, but he himself doesn’t follow it at all times. It’s implied in one of the excerpts above, when he says he’s “being more faithful to [his]unspoken vow to kill the evildoer than even [he] had hoped [he] would be.” He’s not holding himself to any strict rules or high standards here. He’s trying his best, and if he takes an innocent life, he probably feels uncomfortable about it (while he secretly enjoys the feeling) but he’s probably just like “oh well.”

And with Felix, it could absolutely be a situation of do as I say, not as I do. He teaches him what’s in their nature, but he himself chooses to do differently. That, to me, sounds quite a lot like book!Lestat.

Besides, another aspect I’d like to point out is the definition of the word “cull”. Since English isn’t my native language, I had to look it up to really get all the nuances it implies. Here’s what google says:

“Selective slaughter”. Now here’s where I might be wrong and please correct me if I am, but since there are parallels to Darwin in MW, couldn’t that also imply selectively killing a particular group of people? As in, weed out the evildoers, or the weakest who don’t have a chance of survival anyways (as Lestat does after Louis tries to kill him)? The latter would make sense with the Darwin parallel. What we see in MW may be skewed through Felix’ perspective. I haven’t watched MW, but these things happen all the time in IWTV. Killing mercilessly may be only his interpretation of what Lestat said.

TL;DR: Lestat understands vampiric nature well enough to teach others how to kill “like a vampire” when he himself still chooses to do differently. He also doesn’t “like to point out [his] virtues” which is why he never actually told anyone he only kills criminals.

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Ellie Williams X Fem!Reader Angsty, Cute, and Fluffy Prompt [Full Version; a heavy WIP at this point!]

• Takes place after the events of the second game;

• Some details may be changed quite heavily [not exactly for certain yet; just a possibility] in the near future, when I work upon this idea again;

• Parts within this instalment + their transition indicted via the use of Roman Numerals;

• There will be more!

!TW(s): Mention of loss + death + guilt linked to it, implied suffering from depression, mention of theft/criminal activity, depiction of a dystopian atmosphere (an apocalypse + elements of horror), mention + presence of blood, implied mention of violence/a violent atmosphere + violence in general, implied having to commit murder + manslaughter, implied suffering from anxiety + separation anxiety, mention of a kidnapping + possible abuse + murder in general, a general lawlessness, being wounded, presence of weaponry (both implied and physical), mention of a car crash, an implied break-up, swearing, mention of maiming/body mutilation, implied sexual occurrence taking place - if I’ve missed any, please feel free to let me know; thank you!

Care for Each Other/Not Anymore

I

It didn’t take Ellie long to decide she should leave Jackson again. What did she have left there, anyway? Sure, there were the remnants of a past life, including what she’d built alongside Tommy, Maria, and the others who’d decided to join them along the way, but now that she’d lost Joel, Dina, and Jesse, what was the point in fighting to keep what was gone alive anymore? All that was left was a memory - a singular memory, combining each moment she spent with each of them into a dark void of regret, and even heavier a portal for crushing guilt to ambush her the way it did, every night she lay in Wyoming, wondering where she should go next, now that so much of what had made up her own life had been burnt down to nothing, but a few ashes, and unashamed drops of tears separating them.

She had to try and harden her heart against all of what had taken place, and she decided to make further decisions as she packed up what she knew she’d need into the last rucksack she had left, the others she’d ever got her hands on just broken and worn mesh she kept under her bed in the makeshift town they’d all put together in Jackson, a few years ago now. She knew it wouldn’t be enough, eventually - of course she did; nothing lasted forever, that much had already been made clear to her, several times before now. She sighed gravely; the anger was still there - no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get rid of it. She only hoped she could try and dissolve it the further she ended up travelling, if ever she did end up going through with it.

That wasn’t to say she liked to engage in the thoughts of a doubtful mind. If anything, they only ended up frustrating her. She forced the last of her canned goods into the bag, before pressing herself up off of her bed, only to falter again when she noticed the guitar Joel gave her stood - lonely, and grim - in the corner of the room. Her eyes darkened a little, and she tried to ignore the emptiness she began to sport again, but she couldn’t forget it, rolling her eyes, before she walked a little half-heartedly and unsteadily toward the instrument. Though she knew it didn’t make her feel the way it did before - and was certainly hard to play, with two fingers less than what she’d had before - she couldn’t give up. Joel wouldn’t want her to.

In a way, neither would she, or Dina, but the excess thinking only added to the pain she tried to conceal all over again.

She carefully slung the guitar over her shoulder, the weight feeling only too familiar, and for a moment she was cursed to remember every word Joel had sung to her, a few years ago. She grunted, shaking her head subconsciously as if it would do anything to conceal her, but - again - there was nothing she herself could do to fix what had already been inflicted upon her. Maybe she’d come back one day - who knows? However, for now, she saw no other option, but to take her travels elsewhere again. She wouldn’t go too far, though, she speculated - if she was needed, then she could be close by, just-.. not here. Anywhere, but here again, at least until the near future.

Once she’d got outside, she whistled for the new Shimmer - a steed she’d managed to steal from the stables without recognition, given the WLF’s costing the loss of her old mare, as well - and her mare whinnied in response to her call, before tossing her head slightly, and then offering it for Ellie to stroke. Of course she couldn’t resist - whoever could, a creature so beautiful? She smiled softly - at least there were some things still light and warm in the world that had grown so much colder overtime. She pet her companion’s neck, before attaching her rucksack to the mare’s saddle. For a moment, she couldn’t help, but hesitate again, looking back in the direction of the city she missed, when it hadn’t been wounded by so many demons the way it had, before, so many unnecessary deaths it made her herself feel dead inside, to some extent.

She knew she shouldn’t dwell on it for too long, forcing a smile back up at Shimmer, before she climbed onto her steed’s saddle, unhitched her, and eased her with grave reluctance into a trot, back away heavily from the farmstead. She wondered if she’d regret it, eventually, and she guessed she had only herself to blame, when she found herself in almost completely new territory.

II

You yourself weren’t always content with your own life. Things had taken a toll on both of you, as was often the case in situations like these, with the ever progressing apocalypse and all. You hadn’t been subject to much of a childhood to enjoy, either, and often had to shed blood just to get by, and the blood aforementioned that you and your family spilt was not just the blood of the infected, old and new.

You leaned heavily against one of the hitch posts you and Shalyla, your half-sister, had set up all on your own. The others were often busy either finding more supplies, or running a perimeter check. The rotor often ran like that; the days were full of theft without consequences, blood-shed where needs be, and sleep where sleep could be had. How else could your lives be lived, when constantly at threat of things alive, or dead?

“Lyla,” you acknowledged gently, as she appeared around the corner of one of the wind-battered tents to the right of your frame. You wondered if she’d been crying again, noticing that her eyes were red, as a loose strand of light blonde hair stuck freshly to her left cheek, before she brushed it away, and smiled a weaker than usual smile back at you.

“It’s a quiet night, isn’t it?” She mused, not daring to look back at you like before as she, too, leaned upon the post also unoccupied beside you. You didn’t know what you could say to appease her thoughts, nodding slowly, before you bowed your head a little, feeling utterly useless and colder than you ever had before. “It’s not been this quiet, since-”

“We’re gonna find her, Lyla,” you managed, a pained expression on your face as you spoke through the lump forming within your throat, nodding determinedly as your eyes shone a little more in the darkness as soon as your’s too grew wet like her’s had, earlier, ever since the moment she’d come back to you, and declared your and her little sister missing, after you’d allowed her to go off one morning with your sister, as well as your mother and closest associates, here. You still blamed yourself, sometimes. Still thought about her, every moment of every day, wondering if maybe - just maybe - she could still be alive out there, waiting for you to come find her again. “She’s not gone; she was never gone - we can’t just say that she’s-”

“But what if she is?” Lyla interjected through gritted teeth, her voice sounding a little more strained than it did, before. You didn’t blame her, if it were a sign of hatred; you only hoped that she was directing it toward you, and not yourself. It was your ignorant idea anyway, you never thought she could just up and disappear like that, but you guessed you probably should have, right?

You scoffed to yourself, before shaking your head gravely as Shalyla watched after you, as if silently begging for you an answer to your and her new problem in life, as things often go. You didn’t know if you’d be able to reciprocate her gaze, without letting your façade drop, revealing every second of pain you’d had to endure, since the day she’d gone. Instead, you kept your head low, hands fisted at your sides as you fought back the tears, not wanting to inflict anymore pain upon Shalyla, too, alongside you. You certainly didn’t notice the way she scowled down at the ground after that, her eyebrows furrowing together as if she were trying to figure things out again.

“You need to sleep,” you murmured simply, your voice threatening to tremble again as she rolled her eyes, before turning to face you completely as if ready to protest again, but you got there before she could, enforcing a sharper tone to your voice no matter how much it cost you mentally to do so toward her - especially her, after everything the both of you had been through together, at this point in time, hearts bleeding together every night; every second, of every day, and still you didn’t know what else to do, as you hardened your heart against her again, before allowing the following command to slip your lips all over again: “you heard me, Lyla - go to bed, okay? We don’t need you out here right now; the others’ll be back soon, and I can take over the next search with someone else, instead, okay?”

You couldn’t deny that it hurt, seeing the shattered expression now residing upon her face, in response to your harsh words. She shook her head defiantly, but the look of disarray and betrayal of sharp juncture didn’t go remiss by your gaze, even before she’d made to try and argue again, like she had before.

“But, no, you - you can’t do that! You promised me we’d go together,” she hissed, and you sighed heavily as you nodded gravely, making every recollection that you had in fact made such a promise to her, not long ago, now, “what, so you’d rather me not help you, when she’s my little sister, too? Our family, and nobody else’s? Is that just the way things are now, between us? Because I don’t think I like it, at all; the - the way you’re making things go, now. Look, I know you’re the ‘big boss’ around here, but-”

“Lyla,” you began again a little more exasperatedly, but she didn’t budge, continuing without hesitation with new vigour against you, but at that moment you heard the approach of heavy hooves on solid ground, and you found you couldn’t hear her anymore, looking toward the entrance of the temporary camp you’d all set up together within the remnants of Dixie National Forest. What it used to be, anyway, before the apocalypse had begun to spread further and further across the country, soon becoming unmanageable on all sides of the gambit.

Olivia rode in first, looking positively panic-stricken as her grey standardbred neighed beneath her in what sounded like it could be a confused state of fright, her rider panting above her as the two came to a stop a few paces away from you and Shalyla.

You didn’t hesitate, rushing up to her and her steed as you held the mare’s reins, and anxiously looked up at one of your closest friends over the years, her cheeks looking whiter than they ever had before.

“What happened?” You asked a little more breathlessly, but there were still dangerous undertones beneath your words, Olivia easily looking shaken by them herself as she tried to recover herself further, before managing one word that easily sent shivers down your spine, whenever you were cursed to hear it, the way you did again, then, your heart already pounding too fast, especially when you began to grow more intensely aware of the absence of Bianca, another of your and Shalyla’s companions as you tried to fight the growing apocalypse together, even in the earliest of years, somehow. “Bianca,” you managed, your eyes widening all the more as your hands shook a little alongside Olivia’s, but still it took her a moment to speak. The dreadful word came when you least expected it.

You extended your left hand toward Shalyla, as if requesting her help, but before she could even get to you, you heard just about the most dreadful of screams. You dropped the reins, and before you even knew it you were making for the stable, only briefly looking back toward the two of them only to make out the word ‘hunters’ slipping from Olivia’s now paler than usual lips.

There was only one thing you knew for sure, now: the hunters had fucked you over before, but when it came to family, you would do anything to stop them, no matter what that meant for yourself, at the end of the day.

III

Ellie couldn’t deny that she hadn’t made it very far, before she encountered another wave of infected. However, they weren’t focused on her - not yet, anyway. Where the Stalkers were travelling, alongside a mere few Clickers, was another wave of commotion she had yet to discover in a hunt of more clarity. In a way, she knew she may be better off just turning Shimmer around, and finding another way to get by. But she was too tired to make a few more shortcuts to get where she believed she needed to be, right now. A new atmosphere; new - if not permanent - home; a new beginning to her life. She had to get it right eventually, right?

She drew her slightly trembly right hand across her eyes, eyelids drooping heavily at this point, but she slowly followed behind the infected, surprised none of them had yet noticed her, though she travelled far behind them enough to guarantee at least a delayed battle, if it had to come down to one, this far into her journey. It only became an action easier regrettable, especially when she saw the too familiar black motors ahead of her.

IV

“How far?” You began again a little apprehensively, galloping alongside Olivia and Shalyla, the two looking almost as wary as you did, right now.

As others travelled close behind your trio formation, you wondered how far you’d actually make it against the hunters, without having to suffer more and more losses of the team the way you had, the fights you’d encountered before with the group. Olivia looked as if it terrified her; the thought of even speaking again, and you wondered what just had they done to her, before she’d returned to you, minus Bianca beside her, the way they’d gone earlier that day.

“Utah, on the border,” she breathed a little shakily in response to you, not once her gaze moving from where it was, now. You were certain, even then, that you’d kill as many of them as you could, before they could bring you down with them, somehow, if ever they managed to. “We’re close,” your companion added, and you subconsciously glanced toward your sister, wondering what she herself was thinking about, during this tense moment in time. You didn’t have to wonder, much longer.

“The hunters,” she began slowly, through the strain of gritted teeth, “do - do you think they-?”

She could hardly contain her composure, grimacing ahead of her as tears brimmed into the pools of her eyes, lighting them up in the dark the way they had, earlier, before Olivia had returned with such a grave announcement, the way she had. In some ways, you wished you didn’t know what had been plaguing her current thoughts, now.

“We won’t know what happened, until we find her, okay?” You murmured, and Shalyla tensed up, not sure as she reluctantly glanced back toward you, as if she were trying to determine if the answer you’d given was good enough, or too vague for her own liking. You didn’t give her time to consider enough, not wanting yourself to delve too far into it, though it made something within you shatter a little more each time you thought about it, knowing you should try and at least show you cared more, because you truly did; you never intended to convey to her any notion otherwise, the way you could see you had, now. “Look, Lyla,” you began again slowly, Olivia ducking her head a little as if ducking herself under an invisible branch, “I told you before that - that when things go missing, l-like a pet, or a pen, or whatever - it can be found, right? It isn’t gone; she isn’t gone, so she can be found, and we’re going to find her - promise me you know that, please, before we get to them-”

“You think they’ll kill us, don’t you?” Shalyla guessed, and you winced, not sure how to answer at first, but the dejected expression on your sibling’s face made it so much easier for the words to roll harshly off of your tongue, before they lingered, and burnt at the atmosphere around all of you, ready to strike at the hunters with new, and much - much fiercer - velocity. “That - That they’ll-”

“They’re not going to kill us, Lyla,” you interjected simply, your voice a lot bolder than it was, before, “I just want to hear you say it, before we rip their throats out, and have to wait again until later to talk again like we do - you get that, right? So promise me, please - it has to be now, okay? Not later, not tomorrow - now, because I can’t have you going in there without you knowing through to your bones that we will come out of this a family again, okay? Will you do it? Please say you’ll do it, Lyla - say something, at least - for god’s sake, say something!”

“I promise,” she managed, and you couldn’t help, but smile softly over at her, glad that she at least still had some faith in you, even after everything that had taken place, by now, but neither of you had much time to dwell on it, before the gunfire started, and you were torn from your horse’s saddle again.

V

Of course Ellie remembered them; how one had callously - specifically - crashed into the side of the car she and Joel had been gifted a few years ago, to get her to where she needed to be delivered, before, only for Joel to save her the way he had, realising something she still - and probably would never know, now - had no clue at all about, given that he’d lied about the result of the ordeal at hand, before. These cars - they belonged to the ruthless hunters, a group she’d been hoping to never run into again, for a little while now. If it weren’t for the screaming and rapturing gunfire she heard nearby - a few paces away, now, from the infected - she knew she’d probably avoid them, but that wasn’t who she was.

Instead, she pressed on, but sometimes she still wondered why she was even bothering with helping anyone, anymore.

VI

You guessed you still had some things to learn about the hunters, or - more specifically - the cruelty of people, as a collective. You fell from your steed, an agonising grunt escaping you as you hit the ground, the back of your head violently colliding with the solid surface beneath you, leaving everything suddenly quite blurry and darker than the world ever had been, before. You winced, hearing the laughter of the hunters, and the cries as well as shouts of your companions. You felt lost, for a moment, but it came somehow with a sense of peace. You couldn’t deny - shamefully - that you thought of how things would be, if you just let go of everything, and allowed the sensation to take you away, instead of carry you further into a life of oftentimes pain and torment, the way it had, before.

But you couldn’t leave your family. You pressed yourself up off of the ground, gritting your teeth fitfully as glassy pains ran through your right shoulder, what felt like the warm oozing of blood leaking from it, beneath your current and often usual attire; dark grey jacket, a usually dirty green top (all the more worn whenever you yourself went out on territory cleansing runs like these), already staining a little with the blood that escaped from your wound, the way that it was, now.

“Y/n!” You heard Shalyla cry for you from a few paces ahead of where you’d fallen, her keeping a hold on the reins of your horse as you tried to pull yourself fully off of the ground, and back up onto your toes, but you couldn’t hold yourself for long, cursing shakily as you had to grip unstably onto the tree, your left shoulder making it a bit easier for you to do so without your muscles giving up on you the way they did, within your right arm. “Shit,” you thought you heard her utter as more gunfire sounded out, the laughs dying down steadily, but you couldn’t see where the new bouts of commotion and sheer rage were coming from, now, the hunters being hit from an opposite angle not quite in view, yet.

Your head reeled from the pain of every explosion that sounded out following your fall, you even having to try and cover your ears pretty much unsuccessfully to try and stop it from hurting as much. It was then you remembered Bianca, and wondered where the hell they’d taken her to, now. If they had got her hands on her, anyway, before you’d showed up alongside the others to try and take them all back down, again.

“There!” Another of your friends cried out, as if to answer your question, and your heart dropped in an instant when you noticed the struggling and quite limp figure of who was unmistakably the splitting image of your ex-girlfriend, but still close companion to your cause, and very own family, Bianca.

The emptiness came back again, and you found your eyes glued to her as they darkened, watching how blood occasionally spluttered out from her lips, as her chest rose too fast, then too slow, as if she were still trying to cling onto whatever life left she still had within her, after what they had done to her, not too long ago, now.

“No,” you managed, not sure what else to do, at first, as everything seemed to fail you, your legs stuck where they were, small tears being allowed to leak down your cheeks as you watched the struggle go on, fury burning through the last of your veins; the very core of your own soul, in its entirety. If there was anything left that you knew, now, it was nothing short of how you knew for a fact that someday, and somehow, you would make them all pay. They were still trying to take everything away from you, and for no good reason whatsoever, and for once it would be nice if you could avenge those who had been taken away from you wrongfully, if only the day could come sooner, by now.

As soon as you could move, you ran for her frame, before allowing your legs to fail beneath you once you’d finally reached her, and could carefully ease her body close to your own. You paid no attention to the remnants of gunfire that rang out around you, instead trying to protect her frame as she shook fitfully within your arms, a horrific gurgling sound escaping her lips more consistently than her heart was managing to beat, at this point. You burned with it, your hands hardly being able to stop shaking as you allowed yourself to get lost in her again, crying quietly as you connected your forehead to her own, lifting your left hand up to the top of her head as if you were afraid of them targeting her still, though she herself had gone beyond caring about what may, or may not happen to her, at this point, her being virtually on death's door herself, already.

"Y/n," Shalyla's voice rang out above the two of you, but you paid her no heed, even as she grew more desperate to try and get you and the others out of the situation again. "Y/n, please, we - we have to go! They're distracted, now's the time that we have to-”

"I'm not leaving," you spat, your voice shaking as she faltered in response to your words; your sharp tone, despite the pain that was interlaced within it, making up its very core, the way that it was

now. “I can’t, not - not without-”

“She won’t make it,” Olivia managed dejectedly, and you faltered yourself this time, your heart somehow dropping further than it did before as you shook your head gravely, not wanting to hear such words from anyone, especially not her and the others; people you considered heavily to be your family, therefore much involved and clued up on how much Bianca meant, and still means to you, the way she did ever since you’d even first met her, somewhere back in Palmdale. You couldn’t be sure what part of the city, now, considering it had been a few hefty years ago, now. “Y/n, please, we can’t stay here,” she begged, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, stuck on the notion that you could save her, somehow, if only you still could; if only you’d all got there faster than you had, meaning maybe that she wouldn’t be in such a poor state, now. “She’s already bled out too much,” Olivia insisted slowly, “besides, we don’t even have the resources enough to keep her going long enough for us to get back to Dixie!”

“What? So you’d rather just - just abandon her here, without even trying to keep her with us?” You questioned hoarsely, your throat burning with each word as a lump grew within it, making it all the more harder to speak as the gunfire went on behind you. “You of all people should know, Olivia, that that is not what we do here,” you spat, before you carefully gathered Bianca up, and off of the ground, no matter how much it further pained your right shoulder to do so right now, in the state that it was. “Get me one of the kits!” You called to the few companions still waiting there behind you and the others, as the ones gone were assisting in the bloodshed of the hunters that had decided to mess with you and your friends one too many times, now. “Didn’t you guys hear me? I need a kit - now!” You cried, evidently growing all the more desperate as every second passed by, Bianca’s strained and raspy breaths growing ever quieter as you did, indicating a steady down spiral of life, in its last moments, for her, only breaking you down more than anything ever had before, before this moment in time. “Please,” you begged, as they all warily looked amongst each other, not sure what to do, but they themselves knew that it was too late for Bianca, as well, no matter how much it pained them alongside the others to think in such a grave manner as they were having to do so, right now. “Fine,” you uttered, burning with the pain and sheer agony of it all as you stared them all down for a brief moment, before returning your gaze back down to Bianca’s bloody frame, “I’ll take her back there, myself, and patch her up there - I don’t need you guys’ help anyway; not anymore.”

But you didn’t get very far - of course you didn’t. Not before the incoming wave of infected that had been trailing - ever so attracted to the commotion at hand - had fallen upon you both, but - in a way - the idea of dying didn’t scare you anymore, not if it meant you could be with Bianca again, as well as less of a burden to the remnants of your now fractured - clearly - family and friends, not too far away from you both, now.

VII

You guessed the future had other plans for you, still, though you couldn’t imagine why.

Ellie had managed to create quite a hole within the numbers of the hunters who had decided to ambush you, and your family, as was oftentimes the case, whenever she found herself involved with them, somehow. She didn’t care to call it luck anymore - what would the point be? In some ways, she didn’t know why she ever considered it in such a way, before. It was skill - of course it was. She carefully pulled herself up into one of the trees the hunters had taken to hiding within, and - with a cry of alarm - another revealed themselves, making to shoot her down, but she got to him first, managing to swing herself recklessly from one branch to another, before she brought her legs up and over herself to kick the man down from his post. He fell, of course he did.

She didn’t hesitate to aim her own gun down at him, before pulling the trigger, and embedding a couple of bullets or so into him, one lodged in his throat, the other in his forehead. She didn’t bother to watch him die, looking out for any others, but the area had fallen relatively quiet since she’d taken him down. Although, she could have sworn she’d seen other attackers here. They didn’t look like hunters, but she still knew she should be cautious in her next steps, nonetheless. Instead of taking any further rash movements, she dropped down from the branch she was clinging to, before looking timidly around herself again, and wondering if the other life forms had since then run off, as if they were scared she’d take them down, too, if they’d even noticed her, that is.

She couldn’t say she’d got much of a look at them, but what she did get was enough to determine that they were preoccupied, no matter what the situation at hand might be. As soon as she was satisfied that she was now alone again, and - hearing the approaching wave of infected she knew she should at least try and avoid, just for the purpose of her journey and current mental state - she ran back to Shimmer, and sought to continue her journey.

VIII

Of course it ended up being you who had to interfere in that. Sure, you’d tried your best in the end, to keep yourself and Bianca safe, but there were too many of the wave to clear, and you couldn’t get any further than you had managed, so far. It would have probably been a safer bet, that you’d picked up more ammo than you had, at the start of this very day. In all fairness, though, as you fought harshly in your head with your doubtful consciousness - you didn’t know the infected would come with a helping of hunters, the way that it had, today.

Bianca started fitfully within your arms, a pained expression on her face as she looked up at you through dark and hopeless eyes, small tears lingering within them, only for you to delicately brush them away whenever you could, without hurting her in the process, somehow.

“I’m here, baby,” you cooed in a strained manner, a dejected look upon your own face as if you were trying not to break down in front of her again, only for you to remember that you said you wouldn’t call her that anymore after you’d both broken up recently, but it had slipped from your lips so fast that it made your heart ache with everything surrounding it; the memories, especially, before the fight you’d had with her had taken place, before, “I’m here, okay? I - I’ll never leave you again, I promise, I-”

The infected were getting closer, clickers twitching fitfully in the distance whilst their contemporaries howled with frustration and anger, as if they were still trying to figure out how to get to you both, somehow, when you were just on the other side of the willow tree they were approaching, tears streaming down your cheeks no matter how much you tried to fight them back, alongside the girl you held in your arms, still.

Bianca tried to speak, but her lips moved soundlessly, and were dreadfully pale. You shook your head, lifting your left hand up to her right cheek, prompting her to wince a little at the touch upon slightly sorer skin, but she nonetheless allowed herself to melt into it, her heart pounding faintly in her chest, still, though it had a few moments ago felt as if it were just on the cusp of giving up, the way that it had been, before.

“Just rest, now,” you added gently, “you need it, okay? If you won’t do it for me, do it for yourself, and the others - please; Bianca, I-.. we need you - we always have, and we always will, just-.. stay with me, please; don’t - don’t go - not - not like this, okay?”

Your throat felt raw; it was taking you a lot, not to just put your gun to your head, but you knew that wouldn’t do you any good, now. You had no more bullets left, anyway, and you couldn’t leave Bianca and the others, no matter what divisions you find yourselves in, the way you were, right now - or, at least, you thought you were, after they’d neglected to patch her up the way you’d begged them to, earlier.

“Please,” you pleaded again, your voice coming out as more of a whisper, this time, it cracking almost as consistently as your whole existence was, with it, and you silently cursed her at the same time for letting her eyelids grow heavier than they ever had, before. “Bianca, just - just stay with me, okay? Stay with me!” You cried, and your shoulders shook as you began to break down, not sure what to do with yourself anymore.

“Run,” she managed, and her voice was so small, and wet with the blood that had been escaping her too quickly, the way that it was, now, but you didn’t dare leave her like that; you couldn’t, and - even as you could hear the infected growing ever closer to the tree - you still didn’t leave her side, not until the others had found you again, before descending upon the infected, and leaving you feeling nothing, but numb inside, and out, without her beside you again, the way that she had been, all those times before.

IX

By the time Ellie had successfully made it around the wave, only having to eliminate two of the Infected in the process, the group were gradually beginning to struggle, a couple more being bitten as they tried to keep the life forms away from you, as well as their horses. Your eyes never left Bianca’s frame, your heart aching steadily with the distance, and you struggled whenever the odd Runner or Stalker tried to get close to her, only to be shot down by Shalyla, noticing the dejected expression on your face that did finally make her cave in to trying to protect the girl again. Besides, she knew it would be horrible for her, to have so much pain inflicted upon her by the hunters, only to be worsened by jaws and claws of the Infected that had decided to join the congregation, here.

She’d successfully downed another, when Ellie grunted, decided to give in, as she readied her gun again, but she was alarmed by a piercing cry as you struggled against Olivia’s hold, desperate to get to Bianca’s now lifeless frame, seeing as Shalyla had now run out of bullets herself, deeming her body more vulnerable that it ever was, before. It didn’t take much longer for you to break free from your friend’s hold, you elbowing her in the stomach without thinking, before you bolted toward Bianca again, and took on the approaching Runner yourself. Of course, without any weapons to defend yourself with, by now, such a fleeting notion was not met with much luck, on your part.

You’d succeeded to avoid being administered any bites from the enemy, but soon it had you down on the ground, yourself, you trying to fight back tears still as you gritted your teeth against it, holding it as far back as you could from getting any closer to your bare neck as it almost had, whilst you’d had your guard down, for a brief moment. A second or two, at least, just so you could look over at what you’d lost so quickly, and unexpectedly, before you’d returned your gaze to the creature, scowling up at it with nothing, but pure hatred behind your darkened and weaker gaze. Ellie could see what was coming, even before it did. You were due to lose, if she didn’t step in; everyone was distracted, held up in their own battles - even poor Shalyla; this was more than what the group had expected there to be, and soon there’d be more Infected of them than there were true people, before.

She didn’t think to describe them as ‘good’; could people even be good anymore, or had the way things are now driven them all to insanity, as well as nothing, but a bold red greed clouding each and every one of their visions? She hoped, in some ways, that wasn’t all true, especially not for herself. She’d only ever done what she had to protect the people she loved, and nothing good seemed to come of that anyway. She sighed, before clicking the safety off of her weapon, and aiming it steadily at the Runner still snapping its jaws above you.

“Here we go again, I guess,” she remarked under her breath, before positioning her finger on the trigger as best she could, and allowing the bullet to slip from the barrel without a moment’s hesitation. The doubts came after, as the bullet embedded itself into the enemy’s head, splattering its blood upon your face as you winced a little, but it wasn’t something you weren’t used to, so it didn’t bother you much. What did, though, was how you couldn’t see where the bullet had come from, nor could you determine who had been the one to shoot the Runner down for you. You couldn’t think about it for too long, before another Infected - a Clicker, this time - stalked toward you, shrieking horridly as if in a nightmare, but again - from nowhere you could decipher - it had been shot down faster than it came.

You narrowed your eyes toward your invisible defender, and - for a moment - you believed you tricked yourself into seeing the hoof of a horse behind the brushes opposite you that Ellie was currently hidden behind, almost grinning with how comical the situation was, you still trying to see her, though it seemed useless to do so, at this point, but at the same time she wondered why she even cared, searching through the lens of her guns’ spyglass to seek out anyone else in need of her assistance, like you had been, a brief moment ago.

There were tons of them. Both Infected, and suffering humans. She took down as many of the snarling and clicking creatures as she could, though she still couldn’t think why she’d even bother, at this point in time. She’d lost so much as a result of this whole mess of an apocalypse, and still she was fighting. Maybe one day she’d figure out why, considering there seemed to be even less to fight for, now, the way that she had been, before.

The distraction of the rapid gunfire was enough to give you time to recompose yourself. You eased yourself toward Bianca, a pained expression on your face as you surveyed her quietly, not sure what to do with yourself, anymore. She still had her emergency pistol tucked away in her jacket; the hunters hadn’t found it, that much you could tell, not that they’d have any need of it, anyway. It looked like they’d been beating her, more than embedding bullets within her wherever they could. There was a horrible moment, you found yourself thinking of your little sister again - had they done anything like this to her, too, if they’d ever even managed to find her before you and the others could?

You scowled, cursing yourself for your wandering thoughts, the way that they were, and made you feel even more shattered and tired than you’d ever been, before. You slipped her pistol out of its secret holster, before you scavenged for the shiv you’d gifted to her for her birthday, a small engraving of her favourite animal upon its blade, followed by the initials ‘B.W.’, for ‘Bianca White’, and you faltered as soon as your left hand fell upon what felt like its sheath. You hesitated for a moment; it didn’t feel right to be taking it off of her - it was her’s, after all, and you wanted nothing, for it to keep being her own, no matter where she was, now.

You sighed, before nodding gravely, and taking it out of the sheath though it pained you to do so, and not just because of the way your right shoulder continued to throb, the way it did. You promised to return it; of course you did, even if she couldn’t hear it anymore - it was rightfully her’s. Besides, you only needed it to fight the remaining Infected that dare come any closer to her off, now, if your helper allowed you to do so, anyway, seeing as they were so insistent on doing them in, by themself, the way that they were, right now.

Eventually, there were too many for just Ellie to handle, on your behalf. You stabbed the shiv into each of them, digging it as deep as you could within their rotting bodies to try and help her as well as yourself as best you could, for Bianca’s sake, as much as your own, though you didn’t care whatever the future had in store for you, anymore, after today - not now. You fancied you did quite well, but even thoughts such as those you didn’t care for anymore; positivity such as that had left you, with the loss of Bianca, as dark as it made you feel inside, and outside, with no hope of rising up to the surface again. You believed that would end up being the case, anyway. Who wouldn’t, during times like these, now?

There were only a few more Infected that had to be taken down, but they weren’t anywhere near you, anymore, so Ellie diverted her attention again, and you warily surveyed the situation. Two more had gone down, by the time you’d made your decision. You crouched down beside Bianca again, your bottom lip trembling a little as you carefully returned the shiv to its sheath, after wiping it delicately upon one of the fallen leaves surrounding the area. You then lifted your left hand up to her right cheek again, remembering how she’d told you the day before that she’d been thinking about things for a little while, before she asked if the both of you could meet up and talk a little later today. The blow was worse, when you remembered that that wouldn’t be happening for you both, anymore. Not today. Or tomorrow. Or next year.

Not unless you did something about it. You grimaced, pressing your lips into a thin line as you gritted your teeth again, looking behind you to make sure the others were distracted. They were, still finishing up their own fights as you felt for the pistol to make sure it was still tucked away within your own holster. You allowed a small sigh of relief to escape you, before you smiled feebly down at her below you, only for it to falter as soon as you were reminded of the situation at hand here; you should have got there quicker for her. You could have saved her - deep within you, you knew you could, and that almost hurt you more than anything else ever had before, but not as much as it felt, to know she was just gone, now, not lost, just gone, with no hope of revival.

You nodded gravely, trying to accept that fact, but it was impossible, so you brushed over it, and leaned down for a brief moment to delicately connect your lips to her own, no matter how much it pained you to do so, not caring at all about the blood that stained your own lips from hers’, the way it did after you’d kissed her the way you had, so soft as if you’d been afraid you’d break her, if you lost yourself within her again.

“I love you,” you whispered shakily, even if she couldn’t hear it; you just wanted her to know, before you could try and end everything the way you hoped you could do so, soon. Whether it could reunite the two of you again, you didn’t know, but you were more than willing to try. The others would be fine, now; you were sure they would be. What would be left of you, anyway, if you didn’t do this, now? You pressed another delicate goodbye to her forehead, before forcing yourself to your feet again, and making to get far away enough from the others, so they couldn’t stop you like you knew they might try to do so, if you stayed there beside her body to do it, instead.

You should have known even that wasn’t good enough a plan, as Ellie caught onto your disappearance in almost immediate effect, before she noticed how the brambles you’d been perched by before shook as if somebody had passed through, or over them. She didn’t hesitate, before guiding her mare forward to chase you as fast as she possibly could, but it didn’t take her long to catch sight of you again, the barrel of the pistol pressed to the left side of your head as if you were ready - right then and there - to take everything away again, but she couldn’t let you give up like that, though she couldn’t think why; she’d seen it happen before, but nothing could be done to stop it by herself, or Joel.

No matter who you were, she couldn’t let you suffer the same fate, not for no particular reason, anyway, that might prompt her to want you dead, though it made her feel bad to have such a thought in response to the matter at hand, here. Perhaps that was why she hesitated for a moment, lifting her gun back up as she held Shimmer to a standstill below her, so she could get a good aim to try and shoot the gun out of your hand, perhaps, if she could manage to do so, anyway. It was no doubt to her that she could; she’d handled things with much precision, before, and this time was no different - of course it wasn’t. She readied her finger upon the trigger again, her eyes narrowing a little as you seemed to be crying quietly again, somehow making her ache a bit more to hear such a painful sound escaping you.

She couldn’t hesitate any longer than she had - not now, as she drew in a deep breath, and pulled the trigger, but the gun didn’t fire, and she cursed quietly, but she didn’t have the time to react any further as she was suddenly grabbed from behind by the collar of her hoodie, only to be pulled off of her horse again, and pinned to the ground like she had been, the day she’d lost Joel. It only brought the memories back again, exactly what she’d not wanted to happen, the way it did, but it didn’t last for long. Not when someone was suddenly standing a few paces away from her, commanding the attacker to let her go for reasons currently unbeknownst to her, if there were any, anyway.

It never occurred to her that you had as much power as you did within the group, but she guessed she didn’t know you like that, as she lifted her gaze, only to find that you were holding a gun to the attacker’s head, the way you were, now, and for a brief moment, she knew it was all over; she’d been caught, and maybe you’d get the others to kill her, so she never expected you to give her the freedom that you did, especially when she’d effectively invaded what she supposed could be your own territory. She wouldn’t take that for granted, no matter what the cost might be.

X

She didn’t know why, but she decided to go back to where you and the others were residing; the pull of fatigue was enough, at this point, to dissuade her from travelling any further than she already had, from Wyoming, now to the remnants of Dixie National Forest. She stayed there a little while, and already she knew half of the group’s names like she knew the back of her hands; the chords behind her melodies. You hadn’t left the tent you’d disappeared into, the interior dark and miserable like nothing she’d ever seen before, besides those abandoned buildings she’d been lucky(?) enough to come across. That was a fact still questionable to her, however; how all her explorations had made her feel, after all this time, now. Most of all, she wondered a lot about you, and that annoyed her, in more ways than one.

One way would be that she’d only just met you, today. Well, she hadn’t even met you, yet; you’d saved her, but hadn’t in turn said a word to her, at all. You were dismissive with your companions during their interrogation of your choices, in regard to what should be done with her, given none of you knew her, the only thing they had to go off on being how she’d assisted in the fight against not just the Infected, but the remaining hunters, alongside them. It irritated her so much, that she couldn’t focus properly, almost losing another of her fingers as she chopped off some chunks of the bread she’d been offered by your sibling, Shalyla.

It wasn’t half bad, when she’d finally got past the stage of preparation, not that it was needed, anyway. She could eat as if she were starving, and aching with it, but she didn’t feel like presenting herself in such a manner, too tired to be too ravenous anyway, even if she had been running quite low on her own supplies, lately.

“Where did you come from?” The girl asked her, and the question made her tense up a little as her skeptical gaze met with great reluctance the stranger, given that she’d not yet put a name to her face just yet, like she had already most of the others who had been a little more communicative toward her, as if they saw her as a friend, and not a possible foe, somehow, even though they’d only just met her, today, and not known her for years like she assumed they had each other, by now, although she’d not been made aware of any record of them, at all.

“Why d’you wanna know?” She questioned in turn, before swallowing down another chunk of the bread she’d picked off from the part she’d been given, earlier. “You wanna use it against me?” She guessed, and Shalyla frowned, looking a little disappointed, but she guessed she understood why Ellie would think in such a manner about her and the others in residence, here. Ellie softened; truth be told she felt guilty, in a way, for reacting like that, so she decided to answer her question anyway, albeit relatively quite vaguely, regardless of such a kindness as it was, given the situation she was finding herself in, by now. “Boston,” she admitted, her voice a little quieter than it was before, but not because she wanted it to be a secret; she just didn’t have much willpower left to talk a lot about it, anymore, “I’ve been in many other places, since then, but-.. yeah, I’m originally from Boston.” Shalyla appeared taken aback; Boston was quite far from here, after all, but even that was probably an understatement in regard to the true placements of such areas, compared to others against it. “Are you just from around here, or-? What’s the deal with you guys, anyway?” She inquired, genuinely finding herself quite curious into the new group’s own origins, in comparison to her’s and the others back in Jackson, but she deemed it understandable for now, given she only recently had just met them as a collective, the way that she did, earlier, having to save pretty much all of the remaining’s asses, including your’s and Shalyla’s, from a gruesome as well as certainly untimely death.

She didn’t know if she should find it comforting, or not, though, to determine that most of the people here were her age, or something just above it. She shrugged the thought off, instead picking at her bread again as she awaited patiently for the girl to answer her the way she’d had to answer her own question, a brief moment ago, now.

“Me and my sister came here from Palmdale,” Shalyla answered nonchalantly, “some of the others said they came from around there, too, whilst most of our new friends came here from Constance, or Colorado.” She smiled softly, and Ellie couldn’t deny she felt a bit safer, by now, everyone seeming more-.. well, friendly, than she expected them to be, especially after one of the others had put a gun to her head, earlier, only for you to chide them for doing so the way that you had, then. “We’ve never had anyone come from as far as Boston, before,” she remarked, “the others won’t believe it.” She then winced, before adding quickly, as if she were afraid of putting pressure upon Ellie when she’d not even decided to make any commitments here whatsoever, just yet: “that’s if you decided to tell them, of course; you don’t have to, nor do you even have to stay here, if you don’t want to.”

Ellie nodded slowly; thoughtfully, but she cursed herself for doing so, after that, reminding herself that she hadn’t exactly been planning on falling into another group, even after everything that had taken place, recently. She sighed heavily, before shrugging, and forcing a smile up at the girl before her as if still trying to hide her pain from her, as well as the others; she’d been doing stuff like that for a little while, now, not sure what else she could do, in a situation such as this one, or what had come before with the whole Wolves situation with Dina, as well as her new nemesis, Abby.

“What exactly do you guys do here? How - How do you even protect yourselves, in a place like this?” She pried, but regretted it almost in an instant, knowing how that sounded as soon as the question had slipped from her lips, like that. “No offence, by the way; I like what you guys have got going, I just-.. it’s not-.. y’know-..” She rolled her eyes, evidently a little frustrated with herself as she averted her gaze awkwardly, but Shalyla thought nothing of it, answering as best she could, especially after Ellie had gone so far as to defend them, earlier; she deserved what they could give them, and explanations were more than included in such a pact as this one was.

“Much?” The girl guessed, and Ellie appeared taken aback again, before reluctantly nodding, and appearing relieved once it appeared that Shalyla understood what was being asked of her, a bit more, now. Perhaps she understood too much, Ellie thought, as the girl grinned to herself, before looking over her shoulder toward the rest of the camp space beyond the tent Ellie had been given space to rest within, for a little while. They could all see that she needed it, and though they were at first hesitant to provide her with such hospitality, you smoothed them right out by commanding them to set up the space for her anyway, seeing as she’d done a lot for yourself as well as the rest of them for no particular reason or prompt to do so, today. “I can see why you’d think that,” she admitted in a little more of a strained manner, but nonetheless as willing as her voice had been, before this point in time, “we don’t have great defences, that’s for sure, but-.. there’s not a lot left to get here, I guess, not with the hunters and all, and the WLFs alongside them. You probably had it better back in Boston, right?”

Ellie couldn’t deny that she’d flinched a little in response to Shalyla’s mention of the Wolves, but she tried to cover it up as best she could, pretending to cough into her right hand, only to almost choke herself in the process with another chunk of bread - it was almost finished, now, and the sight was almost enough to deject her, if it weren’t for Shalyla’s speaking up again, taking her mind back off of it, and focusing her back onto the situation at hand, here - real life, as it was, she guessed, although some parts of it still didn’t feel real enough for her. How she was still alive was one thing that evaded her understanding, at this point.

“Shit, sorry,” Shalyla began timidly again, as if she’d just been pinched for forgetting something imperative, though Ellie herself couldn’t think of anything else she might need, right now, besides a stronger will to live, alongside a drink of water, maybe. “You’re dry, right? I’ll go and get you something to drink; I just got so distracted with introductions, and stuff, I’m really-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Ellie managed, her voice cracking a little before she began coughing a little again, in the end having to spit out the bread she’d been working on in the meantime just in case she got herself into anymore danger with it, again, like she almost had done so, before, if her awareness hadn’t kicked in the way it did, a brief moment ago, now.

Once Shalyla had gone, you decided to take up the mantle, though she hadn’t seen you leave the tent you’d disappeared into, once, before now. You were out of sight, at first, lingering warily to the right of the tent she was perched beneath, before you drew in a barely audible shaky breath, and decided to reveal yourself to her again.

“Something wrong with the bread we gave you?” You asked, and she appeared a little startled, just briefly, her gaze warily falling upon you, before she tried to find her voice again to answer the question you’d so unexpectedly posed upon her, the way you had, just then, without giving her a moment to recompose herself the way she’d been trying to do, before you’d decided to come out of the shadows again, the way you had, a brief moment ago, now.

“Why? Were you listening to us, or something?” She retorted, but you didn’t bother to answer her question, though you knew you probably should, considering she’d done you yourself alongside the others an honourable service in fighting alongside the group, earlier, even if she weren’t apart of it at all, just yet.

“I asked you a question,” you uttered a little dismally, “we’ve done enough for you already, it’s your turn to start giving explanations, now.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, before averting her gaze again, though she didn’t miss the pang of emptiness she felt as soon as she’d allowed her eyes to leave your’s, the way she did, just then.

“Nothing’s wrong with it, apart from the fact that it’s a little stinky and hard, but-.. yeah; it’s decent for a chunk of bread wrapped up in some dusty tin-foil,” she remarked, and you raised your eyebrows, trying not to smile, though it surprised you in turn that your lips had almost curved upward in response to her comment, like they did, just then. “That a good enough description, for you, or-?” She asked, and you didn’t bother responding, slipping back around the corner the way you had, before, and she appeared a little disappointed in response to your hasty reaction, only to be further puzzled when she noticed Shalyla hurrying back over, making her think maybe you’d decided to slip away when you’d caught sight of her, before Ellie even could.

What she couldn’t understand, was why?

XI

“Don’t mind my sister, by the way,” Shalyla remarked, as she and Ellie walked slowly the perimeter around the campsite, “she’s-.. well-.. she-..”

The girl sighed, finding words failing her as she remembered the way you used to be, compared to how quiet you were, now.

“Could weird be a good word for it? What you’re tryna get at, here?” Ellie offered, and Shalyla winced; she didn’t dare think of you in such a way, not when she knew everything you’d had to endure, anyway, to reach a point such as this one, but she didn’t fault the stranger for it, knowing she had only had a couple of encounters with you, so far, none more revealing than the last had been, anyway.

“I guess - in some ways - you could say that,” she mused, and Ellie raised her eyebrows, evidently a little more skeptical than she had been before, in regard to you.

“Alright, well - how do you see her, then?” She inquired, and Shalyla would think for a brief moment, not sure if it would be fair on you to talk about what had happened to you, after your and her little sister had gone missing, the way that she did. Neither could she imagine the thought process taken place within your head, now that you’d lost Bianca, too, alongside her, and some of your other peers, here.

“I guess-.. a good word for her would be-” she paused again for a brief moment, as Ellie watched her with nothing, but a curious expression upon her face, though she were still quite weary after the fight she’d had to endure alongside you and the others, earlier, “loyal. Mostly in the sense that she’s - well, quite family-orientated, I guess.”

Ellie couldn’t help, but scoff, trying to hide that her action then led to her feeling guilty for doing so, the way that she had, then.

“It seemed like she was more than ready to give herself up, earlier - what would have happened to you guys, if she managed to?” She speculated, and Shalyla smiled sadly over at her new - hopefully - friend, before she again averted her gaze, not sure how to describe what must be plaguing your mental state, at current, as she’d puzzled upon, before, a brief moment ago, to answer Ellie’s previous question in regard to your behaviour earlier with her being nothing more than positively ‘strange’ and unfeeling.

“Even if she did do it,” Shalyla began slowly, ready at your defence in the most friendly and awkward way as she could to avoid any new confrontations within the campsite, “I’m sure she did it, with the eyes of a martyr; she’s never done anything otherwise.” She then stopped, before timidly turning toward Ellie who faltered at the girl’s side, warily looking over at her as if still expecting someone here to turn upon her, and shoot her behind the back, somehow. “Look, I-.. I know things are awkward between the two of you now, but-.. I’m sure, if you decided you actually want to stay with us, she’ll come around to you being here, eventually,” she added gently, and Ellie rolled her eyes; she didn’t like the sound of having to wait for that to happen, as she looked over at Shalyla’s shoulder back toward the tent you had disappeared within again.

“And if I don’t want to stay here?” She inquired, and she didn’t miss how her new companion’s eyes seemed to darken at such a possibility, only making her feel worse for wear, somehow, than she was, before. “What would happen, then?” She pried, and Shalyla tried not to appear anymore dejected, somehow, but her will failed her as she forced a smile back up at the girl before her, before she turned her face awkwardly away from her all over again, like it had been between them before, Ellie beneath the tent they’d cleared out for her, whilst Shalyla had supplied her with a spare chunk of bread, hardly talking to her at first in the process of doing so.

“I guess we’ll just have to see, right?” She added, and Ellie appeared thoughtful - gravely - in turn, before she nodded her head slowly in response to Shalyla’s answer, vague as it was.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t right, however, as Ellie schemed quietly in her head as best as she could, right now. She hadn’t decided yet, whether she wanted to stay here, or venture on further than she had been able to do so, by now, so what would the harm be, if she tried to force your hand a little more than she had done so, already?

XII

She waited until it was quieter than it was, before, pretending to be fast asleep until she was certain that she could get around without a heightened risk of discovery, as well as suspicion surrounding her. She recalled her and Shalyla’s conversation; she needed to make a decision, soon, but not before she’d eased her thoughts concerning you, and why it had been that you’d accepted her here the way you had, earlier, rather than force her out the way she’d believed you would, despite her aiding the group’s attack against the Infected, as well as the hunter that had tried to take over your family’s territory once again, like so many times before. You’d lost count of them all, so far, except from the numbers you’d all managed to kill within the groupings they sent toward you.

Ellie kept low, moving quietly as she warily looked around her, before moving a few paces ahead, only stopping to check herself again whenever she heard voices close by. She moved when they faded away, hearing nothing, but the horses nearby braying, and snorting as she grinned subconsciously, though she couldn’t herself imagine why. She found this moment - although dangerous, as the group didn’t know enough about her to determine that she was truly sound a companion - quite exhilarating, and - plainly stated - therefore quite fun. It wasn’t like that for long, however, as she had to quickly dive out of sight of the two straggling figured passing by your tent, her just lingering on the outside of it, by now, so close, and yet so far. They took a while to move, and she found it painful having to stay where she was as they discussed awfully random topics like their hair, alongside palm trees on tropical islands she’d never herself been to.

It was only when they brought up the hunters again that she grew interested in what they had to say, tilting her head partially as she listened to them in sheer silence, her body tensing up a little as she did to try and focus herself more, somehow, her hands trembling just slightly as she did, trying to make sense of things even more than she had managed to do so, before, though she couldn’t deny it was difficult, at first, until this brief moment in time.

“Do you really think the hunters would take her?” One of the figures asked, another girl who looked something around a similar age to her own, but she didn’t take much notice of either of them, mainly focusing upon the words they were sharing with one another the way that she was, now, gaze averted skeptically toward the ground beneath her, by now.

“Who, Kylie?” The other replied, and the first hummed as if to indicate that the figure aforementioned was the one who she had been referring to, previously. “Why wouldn’t they? C’mon, they would have seen her defenceless out there, and thought nothing of the consequences, right?” They reminded their peer, and the other would frown, before nodding gravely as Ellie awkwardly shuffled in place, feeling a lot more uncomfortable here than she did, before, her body beginning to ache a little again with the weariness still washing over her, from before. She had travelled a long way, after all - of course she still found herself tired, the way she was, now, but she couldn’t let it stop her, as she listened on, whilst - at the same time - she urged for the two to go on walking, so she could slip into your tent, and try to get a better impression of you, somehow.

“Yeah, but-” The girl began again, only to have her speculations shot down faster than any bullet could ever travel, before.

“She was a kid, Dianne,” the other reminded her dismissively, as if he just knew he was right, and that was the end of the argument, prompting Ellie to roll her eyes subconsciously in response to the peer’s arrogant personality.

“I know, I just-.. think of what it’d do to Y/n if she ever found her there, o-or - or had them tell her that they chopped Kylie up like their other unfortunate captives,” Diana continued, this time a little quieter as if she feared you’d hear the two of them. Of course you did; if Ellie could, right outside your tent, who was to stop their words from reaching your ears, too?

She wouldn’t be surprised, if that was why the second of the pairing - Chris, short for Christopher, by what she’d gathered earlier from Shalyla as well as general conversations going on around her since she’d even arrived here - led Diana away, leaving herself alone to her own thoughts again, all of them almost as lost as ever, now that you were linked to some other missing person, now - a kid, no less. She wouldn’t let her intrigue be stalled any longer, as she pressed herself to continue her journey, before she finally reached the front of your tent, and slipped through the part of the cover left undone, as if you couldn’t even be bothered to do up its zipper anymore.

XIII

By the time she’d got there, you were still awake; you’d heard something coming - you weren’t sure what it was. You were half hoping it would just kill you; take all the dark thoughts away, but when Ellie slipped through the bottom half of the tent flaps, you knew nothing would ever change, again. You just - well, knew. You raised your eyebrows, her straightening herself out as she brushed down the dirt upon her jeans, watching you cautiously as you scoffed, before you brought your left hand up to your face to wipe the last of the sleep from the corners of your eyes; it had been building up for a while, that much you could tell, by now. You hadn’t allowed yourself to sleep for a while; the nightmares only came back in more velocity than anything else ever had, before.

Ellie couldn’t help her expression softening, when she noticed how dark and sunken your eyes seemed to be, in the natural light of the moon.

“If you think you’re some sort of Houdini getting in like that, I think you should just leave now,” you remarked, your voice barely audible, and she couldn’t help, but grin in response to your comment, certainly finding it more than amusing, though she couldn’t exactly pinpoint why, at this point.

“You really don’t like me being here, do you?” She guessed, but you didn’t answer, not sure what to say as you slowly rose from your bed, before moving toward the stainless steel bottle you’d perched upon the makeshift cabinet opposite your bedside table, a small vase stood upon it next to a little black box she found much intrigue linked to, though she couldn’t imagine why, a guessing game starting within her mind as she tried to link objects that could fit within a container of such molecular size.

“Coffee?” You offered, and she would appear taken aback, before reluctantly meeting your gaze again as if she’d just reawakened herself to the world around her, wincing as soon as she noticed the expectant look hiding behind the dark orbs of your eyes before her.

“Who drinks coffee at an hour like this?” She questioned, in turn, and it was your turn to fight back a smile, bowing your head again as you poured yourself a cup of it, before setting the bottle back down in its previous place, and awkwardly shuffling as you tried to find another answer for her again.

“People who like to keep their wits about them,” you answered patiently, “even when their at their weakest.” Her eyes tracked you cautiously, as though you were a being unpredictable to her; a silent creature - no, a gracious hunter, tracking its prey, but she didn’t think of you as being one of the bad ones, despite not knowing you as much as she knew your sister, Shalyla, by now. “You ask a lot of questions,” you added a little more exasperatedly, before sitting heavily back down upon your bed, as miserable looking as it was; she could tell you’d hardly used it, and you feared this of her; how she was recognising such things and linking them to you, but you didn’t dare tell her to stop for fear of what it - in turn - would make her think, or expect of you, then.

“Is that a bad thing for you, or-? What’s the big deal, here?” She pried, and you grunted, but she knew through the bemused look upon your face that you were accusing her of doing it again, though it didn’t bother you as much as you seemed to make it out to do so, earlier.

“It’s not a bad thing, it’s just-..” you sighed, having to try and find the right words again to explain your thoughts and feelings on needless topic for her - you didn’t doubt it would soon become a recurrent thing between you both, if she ever decided to stay with you and the others in the near future, somehow, “it’s annoying, okay? That’s all.”

You frowned, recognising the impatient tone that had escaped you, only making you feel worse than you had, before; you didn’t like snapping at people like that, that much was clear, right now.

“Then it seems we both have a problem, right? If I do decide to stay, though I don’t know why I’d even bother to want to, right now - you know I’d still ask questions, don’t you? You’d want me to leave, as fast as I came, wouldn’t you?” She assumed, and you appeared thoughtful for a moment, perhaps considering such a anecdote for a beat too long than you should have, flashes of different possibilities flickering through your mind, but there was only one problem with that; Bianca was gone, and you'd never be able to see her again, now. It made your heart sink, slowly but surely, as your gaze subconsciously fell upon the little black box Ellie had taken much notice of, earlier, before you both had even started talking evenly, like this. Her gaze followed your's, and she grew ever intrigued by the situation at hand, here. "There's a ring in there, isn't there?" She guessed, and infinitely correctly before she even realised it, but you ignored her observation, pressing your lips together grimly, for a moment, before you - more suddenly than any movement you'd ever made, got up to press a small shiv to her bare neck.

She faltered as soon as it happened, unable to react quickly enough as you pressed her with your free left hand roughly against the cabinet behind you both, rattling it a little as you did, but it didn't last for long, you tensing up almost as soon as it stopped, and that was when she noticed the small tears clouding your vision; the pained, but unsuccessfully hidden, look on your face as you tried not to let your façade drop again, though it certainly seemed to have done so already, whether you were aware of it, or not, Ellie couldn't tell, looking back at you defiantly even as the blade lightly pierced her skin - the moment you remembered yourself, scoffed, and allowed the shiv to slip from your fingers before it fell down to the ground beneath the both of you, as you made to turn your back on her vulnerably all over again.

She could have grabbed the fallen blade, dug it into your flesh, and watched you bleed, but she couldn't bring herself to do so, still recovering from the moment, and the unusual spark she'd caught within your eyes.

“You’re right,” you managed a little more hoarsely as you picked up the little box within your hands, the index finger of your right brushing over the inscription upon the surface of the container, still gilded, but fading slowly over time. “Maybe we do have a problem,” you uttered, and she didn’t know what to for a moment as you turned back to her, your gaze briefly meeting her own again, before it flickered back toward the ground as if afraid of being trapped within her own bright, but nonetheless tired orbs - much like your own - somehow. “Maybe we always will,” you added a little quieter, and she narrowed her eyes as you seemed to offer up the box to her for a reason unbeknownst to her, as of this moment in time, “take it.”

“What-?” She continued, and you rolled your eyes in response, before pressing it closer to her, insistent upon the matter though it still hurt you to do so, somehow, as if you were still dreadfully attached to the ring even now that Bianca was gone.

“Take. It,” you repeated a little more firmly, and she couldn’t do it, shaking her head as she even eased the box back into your palms, before closing your fingers delicately over it.

“I’m not here to steal from you,” she stated gently, and you softened again, your heart skipping a beat, taking you aback as you winced, her smiling softly over at you as the moment began to feel unreal, all over again, “look, I-.. I know that things haven’t started out great between us, but I want to show you that you can trust me, okay?”

It was hard to just plainly say ‘no’ in response to her offer, her eyes somehow ensnaring you again as you tilted your head partially, wondering why you felt so lost again, but safe, all at the same time, as long as she were there before you - this-.. this more than confident stranger, who’d saved your life more than once, already. You sighed, before forcing your gaze away from her own no matter how difficult it was for you to do so.

“How am I supposed to do that, then?” You inquired, and - in a dumbfounding moment of peace, yet rippling confusion - Ellie meandered around your still sunken frame, before she sat down upon the edge of your cold bed, and patted for you to sit beside her.

Of course, you hesitated, but she expected that from you, at first, but she didn’t let it deter her, as she smiled kindly up at you again, before offering brightly up the words in a slither of apprehension, alongside some hints of trepidation: “let’s talk, and see how far we get, shall we?”

XIV

You’d never talked that much, before. At least, not in a few years, now. She listened patiently to every word, and you felt like a child again; actually at peace, and contented with yourself, but since the day of the Outbreak had taken place…

You didn’t notice the tears that escaped your eyes again, until one slipped slowly down your cheek, and you stopped talking for a brief moment to clear it away, not starting again until you felt you could, somehow, the feeling of her left hand resting upon your right shoulder encouraging you to continue, or was it just that you’d managed momentarily to fight the lump in your throat back, allowing you to speak all the more without it threatening to break you down again?

“It’s funny,” you mused, and she narrowed her eyes a little over at you, as if trying to comprehend your comment, but she didn’t dare interrupt, instead distracting herself by admiring a little freckle residing just underneath your right ear, “that things can change so quickly, isn’t it? One second, you think everything’ll stay the way it is; you won’t lose what you’ve built, or been gifted, and then - j-just-.. out of nowhere-.. everything seems to just-.. disappear, I guess.” You paused again, unsure of whether you should go on for fear of what she’d think of you, if you did, though you couldn’t imagine why you even cared anymore; things had been hurting non-stop, lately - if she wanted to pick up a gun, or the shiv you’d threatened her with half-heartedly earlier, she could, and you’d gladly allow her to end your miserable existence with either of them, maybe even both, somehow. You sighed, a shaky thing, and still she didn’t say a word, wanting you to be able to vent to her, but she guessed - at the same time - the sound of your voice was calming to her, and she feared that speaking up herself would mean she wouldn’t be able to hear it again like this, tonight, a thought she found disturbing, but nonetheless strangely warming, as she again allowed her gaze to fall upon your side profile, a faint smile playing on her lips as if it comforted her to know you were still there, and not rushing off again, somehow. “I still think it’s my fault,” you admitted a little dejectedly, and her heart sank a little alongside your’s as she shook her head subconsciously, though she didn’t yet know what it was you were attributing such a notion toward, the way that you were, now.

“What do you mean? What’s your fault, exactly? From what I’ve heard, you’ve done nothing wrong; the hunters took Bianca away, and where Kylie is concerned-”

“Don’t,” you interjected, a little panic-stricken, and she faltered, noticing the worried look upon your face; how your eyes widened as another tear managed to fall down from your chin, to your right hand. You winced, feeling it, and she frowned, not sure what else to do, though she wished there was more she could say, somehow, to convince you that none of what had taken place could ever be used to fault you. “You - You don’t understand, okay? Things have been-..” You cursed quietly as you got up off of the bed again, though it pained you to do so.

“I understand you,” she contradicted, after a further brief moment of silence had passed between you, and - though her voice was quiet, it was filled with a bold degree of certainty, “a few years ago, my best friend turned right in front of me; I couldn’t save her - I still think about that day.” You tensed up, reluctantly turning your head a little as you heard the bed creaking again; she had got up a moment after you, and you could almost feel that she stood a few paces away from you. It was unbearable, feeling as if you couldn’t breathe again, the way it had been whenever you and Bianca were together, before. “Do you think that makes it my fault? She saved me; if she didn’t, maybe things would have been-..” Ellie faltered alongside you, before she fought back the doubtful thoughts again; the accusations still residing within her, though she was trying to prove them wrong, for your sake as much as her own. “A little after that, I met this guy named Joel,” she continued, but it was hard to keep herself stable, her voice trembling a little more than it did, before, especially as you half turned to face her, a pained expression on your own face as you wished you could take the pain away from her, somehow, seeing it had impacted upon her a great deal much like your own had been doing even more so, now, “I thought-… I thought I finally had a father, and - and these people, they-.. they came, and they-..” She couldn’t take it anymore; couldn’t fight as hard anymore, as the tears came spilling down her own cheeks, as it seemed to grow ever harder for her to breathe, alongside their steady fall. “They took him from me, okay? They took him, and I tried to stop them, but-.. but they-”

You shook your head slowly, your heart aching fitfully alongside her own as you subconsciously inched closer to her, but you winced upon doing so, not sure what to do; you didn’t know if she’d want you to try and comfort her like that - why would she, if you’d both only just met one another earlier today? Why would you, in turn, even want to, then, not knowing her as long as you’d known the others; your own sister, and mother? You averted your gaze awkwardly, though it pained you again to do so for reasons unbeknownst to you, but soon she found it within herself to continue, no matter how much it continued to pain her to do so, like she did, then.

“The girl I loved back where I stayed with them,” she continued slowly, as though every word came from the suspension of agony, pronounced by the struggled and strained breaths that accompanied them, made everything within that moment in time all the more harder for the both of you to bear, as drew closer to breaking down further with each word, and you tried desperately not to through your arms around her again, “she left me too, and I should have seen what I was doing to her, but I didn’t, because I wanted to avenge him; I wanted to-.. to stop them all; to hurt them like they hurt me, and I tried - I swear I tried, okay? But it wasn’t enough; I didn’t kill all of them-.. Abby-..” She winced, reminding herself of the name she’d been cursing for so long, now. “I let her go,” she murmured a little more dejectedly, and your expression softened further as you glanced back up at her, somehow seeing more to her than you ever had before, the moment she’d first presented herself to you, “so don’t you dare try and say that I don’t understand you, because I do, okay!? You don’t think I go through every day, now, just - just wondering continuously what would have happened, if I did things differently? Huh? You don’t think that I’ve blamed myself before, for stuff like that? Well, you’re wrong, because I have; I’ve blamed myself every. Fucking. Day, for everything that happened, before, so please don’t just think that you’re alone in this, like I did, before, because you’re not alone, okay? Nobody is.” She fell quiet then, after her voice had cracked once more, her chest rising and falling quicker than it ever had, before, since she’d arrived here, as she tried to catch her breath; tried to keep herself together again, somehow. She failed, miserably, at that, but still she tried to keep that from you; safely at bay, just enough for her to muster up a few more words, though her entire body seemed to ache with the reminder of it all, somehow. “You know that, right?” She added, and you didn’t know what to say, for a moment finding yourself fighting back tears alongside her all over again, before you couldn’t fight it back anymore, and had your arms wrapped around her now shaky frame.

The next moment, she didn’t know what happened, but there was one thing she knew: she’d never felt this safe, before.

XV

Since that moment, you’d both been practically inseparable, to the point that the others were starting to talk under their breaths about the two of you. You’d even heard, once, that rumours were going around about you being Ellie’s bodyguard, and-.. well, you didn’t know what to think about that, but the thought of losing her did make you tense up, and have to take a short moment alone to try and recover yourself for her, as well as the others - of course - somehow. Since these rumours had been circling, you’d both been a little more - private, with one another, only going together where you couldn’t be seen, though neither of you could determine exactly why you were doing so.

You determined that there was nothing to it; this whole-.. scenario, you mused, trying to fight back against the guilt that washed over you, whenever you were reminded of Bianca, again. Ellie, too, took on a similar approach, often reminded of Dina, whatever she was doing, now.

On one of the next cold evenings; she couldn’t determine which one, now, considering there has been a few, at this point, she leaned heavily against one of the tall oak trees, wondering subconsciously at the survival of such natural elements such as these, as well as the occasional bushes lining the area. You didn’t reveal yourself to her, at first, warily lingering a few paces away from her, the brambles aforementioned serving as a good hiding place, for you, though you weren’t sure what had even driven you to hiding, the way that you were, now, your hands shaking a little as you tried to think of what you could say, before you shrugged the fear away, and pushed yourself finally to journey toward her, trying to make as little noise as you could, wanting to see how she’d react if you did so, sneaking up on her the way that you were, now.

You wondered if she’d get mad at you - if she’d be pleased with you, but you were too out of focus to think for too long on any of the possibilities lingering before you, right now, getting ever closer to her with every small step you took, to get to this point in time. She couldn’t deny she’d not seen it coming; how you’d suddenly emerged behind her, before making a snarl-like sound to try and scare her, somehow, just a fleeting moment of what you felt comfortable enough to do around her, right now, especially after the moment you’d both shared with each other before in the safe confinements of your previously grim-looking tent, before.

“Shit-!” She whisper-shouted, as she whirled around to catch sight of you behind her, now laughing quite heartily as she rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help it as a small smile fought to appear, and though she managed to restrain it just enough, the dimples still appeared despite the restraint, and it didn’t hesitate to make your heart stutter in your chest, as you acknowledged that you’d got her to smile, at least a little, as it hadn’t been something she’d done a lot in front of you, since her very arrival here.

You couldn’t help yourself, as you thought silently that you wished she would show it to you more often; the smile she tried to hide away from you, still, even after you’d both revealed so much to each other, before.

“Admit it,” you encouraged teasingly, after you’d managed to recover from the fits of laughter that had rolled over you, the way that they did, a brief moment ago, now, “admit that I managed to actually scare you, this time.”

“Fuck off,” Ellie remarked, after scoffing, but you raised your eyebrows, determined to win against her, somehow, “you did not scare me; I knew it was you before I even turned around.”

You grunted, as if generally frustrated by her stubborn protestations, but you giggled, all the same, still finding it funny, the way she fought for her cause, despite how you’d definitely caught the way she jumped, after you’d performed a make-shift - and hopefully Oscar worthy - snarl behind her, the way that you did.

“Yeah, right,” you commented nonetheless confidently, and the smile only grew upon her lips, though she’d done her best to try and subdue it, again, as if afraid of what you’d think of it, if she gave it away to you, too much, though she couldn’t imagine why the idea terrified her - all she could think of, was how she’d lost those she’d given up so much to, and how she didn’t want to make the same mistakes again, especially not now that she’d found you, and had found at least some form of happiness again, whether it would end up being temporary again, or not so inconsistent, she didn’t know, and - in some grim ways - she was certain she would never want to know, not where the two of you were concerned, the way that you were, now, somehow. “What are you doing alone out here, anyway?” You questioned, and she winced, keeping her gaze stuck to the ground beneath her as she awkwardly hugged herself to free herself of some of the cold around her, whilst also providing some amount of comfort to her nerves in doing so, not that she really needed it, but-.. it was nice to have, anyway - who could question something like that so readily?

No-one, she hoped; you certainly didn’t pull her up on it, and she thanked whatever she could for that aspect of you; your discretion - you didn’t have to question her on things you didn’t suspect her on, and - during times like these - she couldn’t be more grateful for that from you, at least - right now, anyway.

“If you’re really so concerned about my whereabouts enough to even follow me wherever I go,” she began a little more indifferently again, as you almost froze in response to her foundations of the question you could just feel on its way to a sharp arrival, the way that it was, now, she briefly lifted her gaze to look up at you again, and you couldn’t explain how your throat ceased up, feeling her eyes upon you, again. It was enough to make you want to turn, and make a run for it, before she could finish the accusation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, even after the question had finally slipped from her lips, only to arrive delayed within your ears, the way you couldn’t deny it did, then. “Then I guess I should ask you, too, what you’re doing out here? I thought you were supposed to be on duty with your sister-”

“She let me stay,” you explained timidly, and Ellie raised her eyebrows in turn, evidently in disbelief of your previous statement, but you guessed you could understand why; you were often quite committed to the perimeter runs you all had to make together eventually, to clear the area of any straggling infected, as well as of any blood thirsty intruders who were blatant in their not meaning well for any of you, here. Thus, you knew she probably deemed this moment to be unusual for you, especially as you’d gone out of your way to stay just so you could be around her, like this. “Albeit reluctantly,” you added, after an exasperated sigh, and that made a bit more sense to her, grinning as she averted her gaze down to the ground again; she imagined it would have been an awkward conversation between the two of you, but she couldn’t imagine why you would have requested this of Shalyla, for her, or just yourself. She winced; the notion had come up so quickly - too quickly, that you would have done this for her, and she knew this could be her treading dangerously, and it didn’t exactly make her feel good about herself, especially after what had happened between her and Dina, before.

“So-..?” She began again awkwardly, but couldn’t bring herself to continue as she awaited a further response from you, hoping you could make the atmosphere clearer for her again, the way you had before, with your arms around her like they had been, at the time.

“So - I’m here, aren’t I? What? Did you want me to go?” You inquired, evidently curious as you narrowed your eyes over at her, as your heart pounded almost too fast against your ribcage to the point that it only left you all the more frustrated again, carrying out the way things were between you both, right now.

“No-!” She answered, as if taken aback by your assumption, and you raised your own eyebrows again, trying to ignore the flutter you felt within your stomach at her interjection - it could be that you’d just eaten something you shouldn’t have eaten, or whatever, anyway; there was no point in worrying about it too much - right? You felt a little more uneasy, then, but tried to hide this from your expression, focusing your gaze intently upon her own as she stammered for a brief moment, as if trying to find the right words to say again. “I - I just meant-.. I meant-..” She groaned, evidently just as frustrated - or more - than you were, even trying to shrug it off as she cleared her throat, and bowed her head back down, again.

“I know what you meant,” you reassured her gently, and she faltered upon feeling your right hand resting upon her left shoulder. For a moment, she found she couldn’t look away from you, her eyes stuck on your’s, and you didn’t know what to do, feeling your face growing warmer than it ever had, before. “Shit, sorry,” you began again a little quieter, before withdrawing your hand from her, though it made you both feel a little emptier as a result of you doing so, the way that you had. “I wanted to ask you something, but-..” You fell quiet again, everything feeling too warm around you as you tried to recompose yourself again, a pained expression on your face as soon as you gave in, not sure what you’d had in mind, anymore, the way you had it, before.

“Allow me to guess, then,” Ellie stated, and you felt a little less hopeless, watching as she pushed hearse off of the tree, a faint smile playing on her lips as she, too, tried to think of a reasonable thing that you may want to ask her for some reason unbeknownst to her; she never expected she’d be on completely the right lines, especially when it came to her first try of the makeshift game you two shared together, “let’s see-.. you - hm. Do you-.. wanna be my bodyguard, or something? I just feel like that’s something you’d wanna do don’t know why, so - y’know, correct me if I’m wrong - if I’m ever wrong, okay?”

��Actually,” you spoke up again, before she could make further guesses, “you’ll never believe this, but you’re right - I - I was thinking, and-”

“Wait, h-hold on,” she managed, and you faltered in place to anxiously look over at her again, “seriously? Of all the things you’d wanna ask me - that’s what you’re going with? Y/n-”

“What? You didn’t think I’d want to protect you, or something? I basically try and protect everyone here-”

“Yeah, but you’re not their bodyguards, are you? They’ve never referred to you like that, and you have never referred to yourself like that, before,” she contradicted, and you rolled your eyes, evidently growing to be frustrated again, especially when all you wanted to do was defend her, like you did the others; it didn’t exactly matter what they called you, you mused, so why start now? “C’mon, there’s got to be something else you wanna ask me - isn’t there?” She pried, and you shrugged, though there were things, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say any of them, to her; why would you, when they didn’t exactly matter, anyway?

“I just-.. thought-.. I don’t know,” you murmured a little awkwardly, “Ellie-”

A familiar snarl sounded out somewhere behind her, and you faltered, your eyes widening as soon as your gaze fell upon the Clicker a few paces away from you both, by now.

“Fuck,” she spat, the situation becoming sharply clear to her, only now, as she looked over her shoulder to see the enemy trying to seek the two of you out, somehow - slowly, but surely, anyway, despite its lack of sight over the years, “it must have heard us talking-”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” you reassured, but she took out her shiv anyway, moving cautiously to the left of you just in case she was needed, here, but you managed to take out the unfortunate being clean, except you seemed to forget that there would always be a straggler, wherever another straggler may go.

In this case, it happened to be a Runner who’d followed behind its companion, the way it did, just then, easily catching sight of you as you grinned sheepishly over at her, hoping - for a strange, brief moment - that maybe you’d impressed her, somehow. Maybe that was partly why you didn’t notice the other one, only hearing it when it was too late for you too so much about it, but luckily Ellie was way ahead of you where this one was concerned, throwing herself toward it before it could get to you, before she struggled with it for a little while, you not sure what to do as you helplessly looked on, stricken by a panic you’d never felt before, making it hard even to move, now, somehow, but she knew what she was doing, thrusting the Runner against the tree behind it, before she swiftly embedded the blade of her shiv into its bare neck, it beginning to gurgle as blood ran down from its mouth, and - of course - the wound.

You hoped you wouldn’t be blamed, if you looked away as she dragged the blade across the left and right of where she’d not cut it, yet, only making a slow, but sure death more likely than it had been, before. When she was finally done with it, she allowed the body to drop to the ground after retrieving her weapon, before she warily looked back at you, trying to catch her breath again as she did.

“Some bodyguard, huh?” She remarked, and you winced upon catching onto the sarcastic tone she’d adopted into her voice, as the comment was made.

You flushed a little, bowing your head as you tried to search for an explanation in regard to your previous behaviour. She didn’t need it, but she couldn’t help, but find the way in which you stammered over your words for a brief moment more amusing than the movements of the Infected attackers had been, a brief moment ago, now.

“I - I panicked, I-.. I don’t know what happened, I’m really-” You managed, but she shook her head subconsciously as she crouched before you, her expression softening all the more as her gaze met your own again.

“It’s okay,” she reassured you gently, “we all make mistakes, remember? You more than me, though, clearly.”

“Yeah, yeah, way to rub it in even more,” you murmured a little faintly, evidently embarrassed again, only making her grin even more over at you, to the point she couldn’t bring herself to fight it back much anymore, especially not around you, when things were finally more - at ease - between you both, now. You looked nervous again, even fidgeting with your fingers a little, as she cautiously looked around the two of you to make sure there were no more of the stragglers around, but she couldn’t say she saw any, or heard any, by now, for that matter. She expressed relief, before making to get up off of the ground again, when you continued cautiously, as if you were afraid of what she’d say, next, if whatever you had planned in mind came out wrong, somehow: “Ellie-”

It didn’t come out, at all. She offered you her right hand, and you seemed to tense up a little again, words forgotten as you stared at her offering for a little while, before allowing your gaze to meet her own again, somehow, without any panic befalling you whatsoever. Instead, it was replaced by a feeling of contentment, and the warmth that came with it, filtering in through your chest, back up to your face again; you only hoped she didn’t notice; that maybe the trees were enough to block the sun from making it all the more clearer to her that you had somehow found yourself beginning to blush, somehow, as she encouraged you to get up off of the ground alongside her, knowing the two of you probably shouldn’t stay out here for too long, for fear of discovery by all types of things, but - mostly - she wanted to ensure that you could both just - be, in the confines of a safe place together, where you could hopefully talk without interruption, somehow, and that was why she found herself leading you back toward your tent, all over again.

XVI

Of course, people talked when they saw the two of you, and you rolled your eyes whenever you heard them. Besides, nothing weird was going on, but they always made it seem like there was, somehow. Ellie kept her head low, as you asked those you passed nonchalantly how their days were going, before you both finally got to the flaps of your tent, and you held one of them open to get her inside.

“So - that was-” Ellie began awkwardly, as you said: “I’m really sorry-”

The both of you fell quiet, your cheeks flushing again as she winced, though a soft smile fought to play on her lips again in response to this development.

“You go first,” she offered, albeit timidly, and you raised your eyebrows, before you shook your head timidly, managing a wary smile up at her as you lifted your right hand up as if to offer the gesture back to her; the bandage made it a little difficult to do so, but she knew what you meant, and she hesitated, before deciding to accept your offering, though it made her feel guilty in a way, wondering what would happen if you spoke first, instead of her; where you both would be, now, together, but she tried to push it away, trying to tell herself it was probably just a stupid, small thing like her own remark turned out to be. “I was - er - basically just saying that it was - awkward, out there; tense - all those people - y’know,” she appeared a little embarrassed, and you frowned, before nodding gravely - it certainly had been, though you wished it wouldn’t be like that again; the way it was, when you and Bianca had started seeing one another more often than you ever had, before, in front of the others. It still made your shoulders slump a little, as your heart in turn sank from its original place, to think she was truly just-.. gone, now, no matter what; you never thought you’d lose her, like that, before, and so it just- “what did you want to say?”

You appeared taken aback, wincing as you recovered your train of thought, but it had never happened like that, before.

“E-Er-.. I just - wanted-.. t-to-.. shit,” you uttered, evidently a little panicked, and she couldn’t help, but grin sheepishly over at you, as though she saw past your panic with no trouble at all, her eyes glinting ever so slightly as she did.

Others would probably just tell you to snap out of it; things felt so - strange, today. Although, you couldn’t deny they’d been that way, since Ellie had first arrived here, the way that she did, before.

“Well, you know where the toilet is, right? Don’t do it in front of me - ever, okay?” She commented, and you rolled your eyes, though it was an effort to fight back the giggle that wanted to escape you, the way it did, then.

You sighed, before shaking your head gravely, and she tilted her head partially, her eyes narrowing a little curiously over at you as you tried to find the right words again, wishing the fluttering that began again in your stomach would dissipate as fast as it had come, but - to no avail - it stayed there, all the same, throughout this moment in time, for too many reasons unbeknownst to you, though the feeling was nonetheless familiar to you, at this point in time. Especially after what had taken place between you and Bianca, before.

“You know I didn’t mean that,” you mustered up, eventually, and she raised her eyebrows skeptically again, only making your face burn more as you kept your gaze stuck down at the ground beneath you, wishing you didn’t find it hard to talk to her all the time, whenever you were especially close to her, like you were, now. “I just-.. I wanted to say-..” You grunted, as if frustration was overwhelming you, by now. “Ellie-”

“Take your time,” she cooed gently, and you felt even more numb when you realised she was stood ever closer to you, her right hand resting upon your left shoulder again as her eyes now bore into your own, as if searching for something you yourself didn’t even know you could find there, somehow - it was almost like… she could see - everything, about you, all in the space of a few seconds, and you didn’t realise you’d neglected to talk, until she herself spoke up again, clearing her throat as if trying to regain focus herself, somehow. “Look, maybe-.. maybe you’re over-tired,” she mused, “have a nap?” The idea did sound quite appealing, actually, until you no longer felt her hand delicately squeezing your shoulder the way it did, before. “I can go, if you want me to-? I don’t want to interrupt, or anything, if-”

“No,” you managed weakly, and she faltered, her expression softening as she glanced back at you again, before she could even reach to open the tent flap up again, the way you had, a brief moment ago, now. “I - I just-.. shit, I’m sorry,” you began again, and the soft smile fought with Ellie’s conscience again, “okay, I think I know what I wanted to say before.”

She fully turned toward you again, curious as she awaited for you to continue, before she realised maybe you wanted her to prompt you to continue, first, though she couldn’t imagine why, you looking a little apprehensive as if battling yourself over whether she’d want to hear what you had to say, or not, somehow. Of course she had to appease you, smiling softly in your direction again as she directed you to sit down again beside her upon the edge of your bed, which you did so, with a further great reluctance, this time.

“I’m listening,” she reassured, and you warily smiled back at her, but it didn’t linger long upon your lips, before you’d averted your gaze again, fidgeting with your fingers as she wondered how bad this could possibly be, somehow, compared to what she’d had to say, earlier, in regard to the suspicious gazes of those probably eavesdropping, for all that the both of you knew, right now.

“It’s probably stupid, but-..” You began again nonetheless nervously, her listening patiently to every word again as you pondered, her focus never faltering, even when you found yourself stammering and stumbling over your sentences again, the way that you did earlier around her, as well. “I just-.. I wanted to say - I’m sorry,” you stated, and she looked confused again, but that didn’t prompt her to interrupt, her knowing better than to do so, especially when you made to continue again shortly after that brief moment, your eyes darkening a little as you thought back to Bianca all over again, “the others, if - if they’re making you feel uncomfortable, I can-”

“No,” she interrupted gently, and you appeared taken aback again, your heart skipping a beat as she rested her left hand softly upon your’s, and you couldn’t help it as you allowed your gaze to meet her own again, prompting you to have to fight back a shudder, though you weren’t sure why, a pained expression on your face as you kept your head low, again, knowing you couldn’t lose control of yourself - not now. Although, you did wonder what it would mean, if you just inched a little closer to her than you had, already. “It’s fine; they don’t make me feel anything like that, okay? Don’t worry,” she cooed, and you expressed relief, “to be honest, when I see them looking at us, I find it just-.. well, comical, I guess - it’s like.. they don’t know what to make of us; it’s hard not to laugh, whenever I think of them, and see them like that.”

You smiled softly back at her, evidently relieved as you looked back at her again, your heart pounding too fast the way it had been, before, though you weren’t sure why, and were scared - at the same time - you’d put everything together, soon enough, in regard to your feelings toward her presence around you, the way it was, now.

“Good,” you responded, and it relaxed her to hear how exasperated you sounded, whilst the smile still reflected through your voice, right now, suggesting you were at least more at ease, than you had been, a little earlier, by now, “that - that’s good.”

“It - It is, isn’t it?” She reflected alongside you, as she herself smiled a little more warmly back at you, though her heart stuttered in her chest as she did, somehow. Silence passed between the two of you again, and she felt her face growing too warm alongside your’s the longer her eyes were locked within your own bright orbs. She rubbed the back of her neck, managing a breathy ‘so’ as she tried to bring herself back to the moment in real time again.

You winced, realising you’d got carried away in her eyes again as you rolled your own orbs at yourself, before awkwardly clearing your throat, and bowing your head back down again.

“We should-.. probably-”

“Yeah,” Ellie agreed, reluctantly, as she made to get back up off of the bed again, though it made her feel emptier than before to do so like she did, then, “I’ll, er - I’ll see you tomorrow, again, right?”

“I should think so, considering I am your bodyguard, now, aren’t I?” You reminded her, the smile playing faintly upon your own lips again, alongside her own, now, as soon as she were reminded of your and her previous conversation, together.

“Oh yeah; the inexperienced bodyguard game,” she mused, and you pouted a little up at her, but she maintained her view, until she decided she couldn’t leave such a title in the air, anymore, “I’m just kidding - you know I am; you’ll get there, eventually - I know you will, even if takes you years to do so.”

She stopped before the tent flaps again, her heart jolting a little as soon as she heard you voice her name gently again.

“Tomorrow,” you began timidly, “we’ll be on duty together; Lyla’s okay with it, so-.. I was thinking, could I - show you someplace? I, er-.. I like going there to think, sometimes, and I was hoping maybe you’d like it there, too - it - it’a okay if you don’t want to - of course it is, I just-”

“I’d love to,” she reassured you, and you forgot how to breathe all over again, your eyes hopelessly locking with her own again, “you’d better get some sleep; I expect my bodyguards to be up bright and early for me, no matter how inefficient they may be, sometimes. Tomorrow, yeah?”

You expressed relief again, smiling a little sheepishly up at her, before you nodded, and managed to find your voice again, somehow, though it seemed it easily went away all over again, regardless, whenever you found yourself in the blessing of her presence, again.

“Tomorrow, bright and early,” you confirmed a little breathlessly, as if still trying to recompose yourself, somehow.

She appeared more at ease, again, though she hated the idea of having to leave you, the way that she did.

“Good,” she responded timidly, “I look forward to seeing you there.”

“I’m glad; I look forward to seeing you there, too,” you returned softly, and she lingered for a brief moment, trying to hide the pained expression on her face that came with having to leave you, the way that she knew she should, but she knew she couldn’t stay there all day, as she nodded her head faintly, before managing a quiet ‘night’, and pushing herself to leave, whilst the hurt process - for the both of you, this time - seemed to begin, dreadfully all over again.

XVII

You hardly slept, that night, tormented by old memories you’d made alongside Bianca, whilst your heart pounded too quickly against your ribcage again.

“Oh, c’mon,” you heard her say in your head, whining and appearing a little disappointed as you sat back down upon the edge of your bed again, finding yourself anxious that you’d only make things worse, if you tried to continue dancing with her, the way you had, then.

“I’m sorry,” you responded, the edges of your vision hazy as you imagined one another together, her arms around you as her eyes silently begged you to get up again for her, at least one more time, anyway, before you both had to go back home again to the others, like you had to do so as well - albeit nothing but begrudgingly, every time before, “look, maybe-.. maybe I’m just not graceful enough to learn this; maybe we should just-”

“We’re not going back home; not until I set this right,” she’d responded, that day, making it all the more harder to breathe as you’d glanced back up at her, nothing short of timidly, as if you were afraid of just making things worse, somehow, if you didn’t convince her to give up on you, the way you wished she would, now, before it could grow to be too late for her to do so, already, surely a prospect not too far away, at the time, “look-” You remembered how she’d sighed, sounding exasperated with the moment; how she longed to hold you close again, the way she had before. “Maybe you aren’t graceful, enough, or it’s the fact that maybe you just need to trust me enough to let me lead.”

You remembered how you’d smiled, then, as she’d offered you her right hand to help you back up off of the bed. How you’d then taken it within your left hand, before allowing her to spin you around as you’d advanced up before her. She’d giggled, then, and for a brief moment, you wished you could hear it again, somehow. That was when the angels came.

Your eyelids fluttered open again lazily, and everything was much too bright; the sun glared through the material of your tent, not strong enough to fight it back as you groaned, turning away from it, but it wasn’t enough to make the atmosphere any better, or easier to handle, for you. You grunted, raising your right hand up to your eyes to rub them; you didn’t notice the two of your companions, their shadows blurred beyond recognition, as of this moment, until they finally decided to speak up, and therefore startle you when you least needed them to do so, right now.

“Jeez - it looks like you had another of those rough nights, am I right?” Diana remarked, and you rolled your eyes upon recognition of her voice, a few paces away from you, by now.

“Hi, Diana,” you replied awkwardly, your voice straining a little aa you sat up, groaning as you did as if your back pained you as you stretched your arms upwards, trying to prepare yourself hastily for the day ahead of you, arrived much too soon, “what do you need, now?”

The girl appeared a little dismayed, as well as puzzled, looking toward Shalyla, as if the two had the ability to Shine with one another, somehow.

“You’re meant to be riding out with Ellie, today, remember?” Your sister reminded you gently, and - of course - Diana being Diana, couldn’t resist to tease you as best she could, to keep the dark parts of you away from hurting you again, somehow.

“More like riding on Ellie,” she remarked, and you tensed up, taken aback by her comment as Shalyla winced, trying not to giggle in response to her as you rolled your eyes, trying to hide that what she’d said had most definitely had some effect on you, no matter what it meant to do so; you didn’t dare think too deeply on it, shaking your head gravely, before you began to recall what you’d been planning on doing today; how you’d wanted to show her an old Campground of your fancy; you’d often felt quite safe there, at times, the parties the previous owners held being of a bright time for you and your sister, until - of course - Outbreak Day had come, deeming it no longer usable as long as danger were on the horizon, which it very much still was, now, no matter the talk of some distant cure you’d heard, over the years.

“Shit, okay,” you murmured, quickly getting out of your bed to try and get yourself ready as fast as you possibly could, trying your best to ignore Diana as much as you possibly could, though you couldn’t deny her comment had got to you, more than anything ever had, before, somehow.

“Wow, that was quick - right, Lyla?” She continued, and Shalyla awkwardly nodded, though she knew it would probably be inappropriate for her to begin heightening her own suspicions, as well, given that she could somewhat sense a connection between you and Ellie, especially the day after she’d first arrived, here.

“That it was,” she mused, and you rolled your eyes again, evidently annoyed at the both of them, by now.

“I wonder why-”

“Look, I don’t know what you guys are thinking, but-.. there’s nothing going on, between me and Ellie, okay?” You interjected a little sharply, but Shalyla knew you; she heard the hesitation in your voice; noticed how your expression softened when you spoke her name again before them. You sighed heavily, as the two of them shared a half-hearted look of knowing, though - at the same time - they didn’t exactly know what to think of the notion itself, at play here, between the two of you, now, especially after Bianca hadn’t been gone for long, by now, the way that things were. “I need to go,” you murmured, sounding a little more dejected than before as you meandered around the two of them, more than certainly avoiding their gazes, but you knew you couldn’t hide from them forever; you’d just have to deal with that fact, as you strolled resignedly toward the stable area, having to fight off - as you went, somehow - the painful memories of you and Bianca again.

XVIII

Ellie was already ready, and waiting for you to join her, guiding her mare slowly toward the edge of the clearing as you slowly approached, a pained expression on your face which you tried to hide, until you’d edged closer, and had to finally lift your head up to her again. She smiled softly, before waving over at you, and you timidly waved back at her, before jogging the rest of the way over to your black stallion, Gizmo. Christopher was holding the reins of his bridle, evidently waiting impatiently for you to get to the two, and once he finally saw you approaching, he kept the steed steady as you climbed on, hauling your right leg over and your foot into the stirrup, before you pulled the rest of yourself up, and steadied yourself within the saddle, thanking your assisting companion as he offered the reins to you again.

You could feel her gaze flicker over to you again as you winced, trying not to glance over at her, no matter how much you wished you could do so, right now, your heart skipping too many beats at a time as you kept your head low, and gestured with your right hand for her to begin the journey out, if she wished to do so.

“I thought you were going to be doing the leading, today?” She mused, and you rolled your eyes, forgetting yourself, as she subconsciously grinned in your direction, sensing the frustration rolling off of you, though she wasn’t yet sure what the cause of it seemed to be, during this brief moment in time.

“Sorry, I guess I’m just tired after-..” You sighed, before running your right hand over your eyes again, as if it would wake you up some more, somehow. “Whatever; last night was rough, that’s all,” you added a little more dismissively, and she raised her eyebrows, but didn’t have much time else to react, as you squeezed a little Gizmo’s sides, prompting the stallion to snort, before he began to walk toward the entrance of the forest surrounding the area, where the trails usually began, the way they did, here.

She winced, quickly easing her mare into a trot alongside you as the two of you - at first - briefly travelled in silence together, until she managed to bring herself to speak up again, knowing she should, given that the journey would be awkward, if she didn’t manage to do so, but at the same time, she couldn’t help, but find herself longing to hear your voice again, somehow.

“What’re you thinking about?” She inquired, curious, and you tensed up a little, but tried to ease yourself up again quickly, as to not worry the steed below you.

With great reluctance, you turned your head toward her, and she smiled softly again back at you, though she tried to keep it faint as best she could, not wanting to be too optimistic around you, though it was hard for her not to be, though she still couldn’t imagine why, somehow.

“Why would you want to know?” You questioned, not unkindly, and she fell quiet again for a brief moment, trying to find the right words to say again.

“Look - I can see something’s wrong; if you just talk to me, maybe-”

“There’s nothing wrong,” you interjected a little too sharply, and it even hurt you to hear it, especially when you noticed that she appeared a little dejected, now, alongside you, as if it had pierced her much too deeply for it to be a normal reaction, if you really didn’t mean as much to her as you feared you didn’t right now, still. You sighed heavily, and she warily glanced over at you again, wondering if maybe there was something else she could do for you, but she wasn’t sure; it still grew hard for her to read much of you, though she wished she could do so even more, by now, no matter what the situation at hand, here. “I just-.. it’s like I said earlier; I had a rough night, El - that’s all there is to it, now,” you managed, and she frowned, before nodding gravely in response to your half-hearted claim, the way that it was, then.

“Look, if you wanna go back-?” She suggested, and you winced, subconsciously gritting your teeth as you did; you couldn’t fathom the idea of having to turn back so soon, especially when a part of you was still eager to spend more time with her, somehow, without it appearing suspicious for you to want to do so, though you couldn’t imagine why anyone would view it in such a curious light as the others back at the camp were, now, somehow.

“No,” you managed, and she would appear a little taken aback again, though - in a curious way - it relieved her, however, her heart skipping a beat as she smiled down at the reins again, thinking about how nice it would be, if things weren’t so risky the way that they were, now. If things were right with the world again; or - at least - somewhat more peaceful, anyway. She dreamt of many things, but it always seemed like - especially now - they would never come true, no matter how much she wished they could, sometimes, especially now. “I have to show you this place; it - it always helps me, when I need to think about things; it should do the same, for you, and we’ll probably get the bonus of being able to take out the infected, whilst enjoying the sanctity of the area around us,” you insisted, and she appeared a little more at ease again alongside you, grinning a little back at you again as she wondered how she’d never noticed the way your eyes sparkled in the sunlight, before. “Is - Is that okay?” You asked, your voice suddenly - smaller, than it was before.

“Is what okay?” She inquired, appearing a little puzzled; she’d got too distracted by the glimmer in your colourful orbs, to take any notice of your previous statement, the way she had the ones that you’d voiced to her, before, until this brief moment in time, now.

You appeared skeptical alongside her, wondering what she, too, was thinking, but - nonetheless - you decided to answer her, anyway, knowing you shouldn’t think too deeply about it, the way that you had, then.

“Would you-.. still like to go to that site, with me? Y’know, if you’re up for it, and stuff - I just-”

“I’d love to,” she interjected gently, and you faltered as soon as her gaze met your own again, “you know I would - Y/n-”

“Good, that - that’s good,” you managed a little softer, as if you didn’t want her to hear you, then, as you kept your head low, trying to keep breaths even, and a sense of ease about you, but you found it difficult to maintain around her, though you couldn’t understand why, still, feeling safe around her, and as if you enjoyed her company more than perhaps you thought you should, the two of you only still recently acquainted, after all, at this point in time, “thank you; it - it means a lot to me - it really does, I promise.”

“Then I’m glad for it,” she added, in turn, “but we should probably hurry up; it’s getting a bit colder out here already, and I’m not sure, but I think I can hear some signs of undead life nearby.”

“Undead life?” You mused, and she grinned again, before shrugging a little sheepishly, and allowing a brief second for her gaze to fall upon you once more, the way it did, then, her heart beating much too quickly alongside your’s, but it didn’t stop her from buzzing at the feeling, all the same, especially not when you were with her, the way that you still were, now, and hopefully could for at least a little while longer, anyway.

“You know what I mean,” she answered in a vague manner, and you playfully rolled your eyes, before deciding to play dumb, though - of course - you knew what she meant; of course you did, especially when you heard the faint clicking and groans sounding out amongst the creaking of trees and shaking of brambles, nearby the both of you, the way that it was, now.

“Infected?” You took an uncertain sounding guess, and she raised her eyebrows in your direction again, but she didn’t bother to answer you, instead teasingly claiming you to be an idiot, before you protested playfully alongside her, the smile sounding out beneath your words all the while.

Again, you found yourself distracted in the good things that were still living, whilst she, too, began a replay of the dreams in her head, but it wasn’t until you’d both made it to the alternate campsite that she knew for a fact that maybe - just maybe, things could be okay again - for now, anyway.

XIX

You dropped down from your steeds’ saddle, first, admiring the area; it was standing well, regardless of all that had taken place, recently. You couldn’t deny, though, that you missed the way it was, before the events following Outbreak Day had taken place, the way they had, before.

“Ruby’s Inn Campground-?” Ellie read off one of the rotting signs in the area, before she - too - dismounted her mare, and jogged up to you, as your eyes perused the clearing.

“It’s a resting place,” you mused, and she raised her eyebrows over at you, before looking around her as if to check the two of you weren’t followed her; even if the area were as nice as you’d insisted it would be, that didn’t mean it was safe from any more - aggressive - disturbances. “So - what do you think?” You inquired, sounding a little nervous as she perched her rucksack upon a stump sticking out of the ground, bare and worn, weeds growing around its edges as if the wild were taking it over still, abandoned RVs and all.

“It’s - quiet, for sure,” she answered slowly, as if thinking of everything she could merit it for, though she’d seen many places, by now, and couldn’t bring herself to be much affectionate toward them, especially not after Joel had brought her to the Science and History Museum back in Wyoming, a few years ago, now.

“Makes it easy to think about things,” you added delicately, and she couldn’t help, but smile a little half-heartedly down at the ground again, not sure what it was exactly that brought such a reaction upon her, however. Sometimes she wished it would stop; that she could just run away again - maybe it would be better if she did; she could go back to Jackson, try and sort herself out again, but there were so many things telling her she should stay; that things wouldn’t get any better, even if she decided to return the way she had thought of doing so, a brief moment before, now.

“It’s also-.. certainly - well.. peaceful, I guess, but-”

“You don’t like it?” You guessed, trying to hide that it had dejected you a little, to think in such a manner, the way you had done, then.

“Of course I like it,” she contradicted, but it sounded strained, and you knew you shouldn’t have wasted her time, wincing as you gave the clearing an almost apologetic and forlorn look, as if you intended to move back onto the original trail again sooner, rather than later, but she couldn’t let this moment end so fast, catching your right arm within her hand as you tensed up again, your heart pounding too fast again as soon as you felt her skin against your’s. “Hey, I didn’t mean to say that I wanted to go so fast, did I? Let’s stay and have a little look around for a while, shall we?” She suggested, and you appeared a little more at ease, your eyes glinting back at her as you beamed softly in her direction, somehow making it harder for her to breathe as soon as her eyes locked with your own again, somehow, without her feeling lost within herself, again, as well as guilty over Dina; what had come before, between the two of them, in comparison to where she was now, with you, wondering where everything would start; how it would undoubtedly end all over again, in the near future, most likely.

She sighed a little shakily, before clearing her throat awkwardly, and averting her gaze as fast as she possibly could, though it pained her somehow to do so, by now.

“I - I’d love that,” you managed, trying not to allow your voice to tremble, and she expressed relief, then, the guilt that had flooded over her a brief moment ago soon faltering as she beamed sheepishly over at you, before offering you her right hand to hold, which you accepted from her, without hesitation.

You were certain you would have lost control of yourself; your senses, right then and there, before her, though you weren’t sure what you’d do, startling yourself a little as you thought to glance down at her lips, your heart pounding on much too confidently as her eyes grew a little lighter alongside your own, somehow, before she gave your hand a gentle squeeze, and eased you out of your tight consciousness: “where would you like to start, first?”

XX

“They used to host parties, here,” you recalled slowly, “even before the Outbreak got-.. well-.. really bad. I guess they did it to boost morale, sometimes; things felt so low, so slow; time just seemed-.. redundant - it still does; of course it does, with everything still-.. y’know.” You sighed a little exasperatedly, and Ellie wore a thoughtful expression upon her soft facial features, not daring to look over at you again after it had made her feel too much all at once, again, the way it did, a brief moment ago, now. “Anyway, there were some really fun times here,” you added a little more timidly, as if embarrassed at yourself for not stating that generally, before.

It was then she couldn’t resist a faint glance over at you, noticing the pained expression on your face, as if you were still plagued by such memories playing within your head, at a recollection of such a place as this one.

“Not so fun, anymore?” She guessed, and you tensed up a little, prompting her to wince slightly in response to your reaction, as if you’d been struck by a crowbar all of a sudden, an evident and unseen strength to her words that she now wished she could take back faster than she’d even said them, then.

The silence that befell the both of you didn’t last for long. You managed a weak smile over at her as if to console her, only making the achey feeling worse within her, though she couldn’t imagine why; you being in pain seemed to be enough to pain her, by now, even though it had only been for a few days that you’d both known each other, by now.

“You could say that,” you answered truthfully, returning your gaze to the bare sight that lay before the both of you, the way that it did, now, “things-.. just haven’t been the same, since-..”

You sighed heavily again, and she didn’t dare question what was going through your head, right now, knowing it wouldn’t be appropriate - nor would it even be easy - for her to do so, given the way it made her feel, to see you so dejected as you were, a brief moment ago, now. Instead, she decided to think on what the parties might have been like, having never been able to attend one, herself, before.

“Did you dance?” She asked, her voice a little quieter, but nonetheless sheepish and playful, as the two of you continued to walk slowly side-by-side around the wild RVs left behind, by now.

You appeared puzzled, at first, by the question, side-eyeing her slightly for a brief moment as you tried to figure out what she could mean, until you finally decided to give in, not in the presence of enough awake mental capacity to figure it out for yourself, right now, especially not after the night you’d found yourself having, a few hours ago, now.

“Did I what-?” You replied, none the wiser, and she couldn’t help, but playfully roll her eyes in response to your own question, before she teasingly nudged your right arm with her left elbow just to ensure that you knew she didn’t mind your previous state of sheer dumbness and part ignorance, as presented within you, before.

“At the parties you went to,” she clarified, and you then understood completely, your heart sinking a little again as you tried not to let the pain reach your eyes again, no matter how much it wanted to do so, right then and there, Bianca filling your mind and soul again, the way she had, so many times before, now, “did you dance at them?”

“Not much,” you answered vaguely, and she appeared half-bewildered; half-exhilarated by such a response as that one was.

“‘Not much’? Are you kidding me, right now? Y/n-”

“Okay - not a lot, then,” you corrected yourself half-heartedly, as she raised her eyebrows again, but you continued before she could protect anymore than she already had, a brief moment ago, now, “I guess I just-.. I never really cared for dancing as such, okay? I’m not even that good at it, anyway.” A soft smile seemed to play on your lips, but she didn’t need to ask why, before you continued on a little softer than you did, before. “Bianca-.. she-.. tried to teach me, sometimes,” you added, and Ellie’s expression softened again at the way your voice seemed to tremble a little, sounding a lot more strained in will than it ever had, before, in all the times she’d ever heard you speaking, before now, “that’s how I met her. I-..”

The smile collapsed almost as fast as it had come, and her heart sank alongside your own, a pained expression on your face again as she tried to think of the right words to say that could try and bring you back to her, somehow.

“You haven’t danced, since then?” She guessed gently, and you seemed a little frustrated with yourself, smiling sadly back at her, before shaking your head a little faintly as if it were hurting the very core of you to even move, at this point.

“There’s-.. not been much point in trying, anymore, since we-.. yeah,” you murmured, and Ellie knew the feeling, nodding gravely alongside you, before a perhaps risky idea struck her hard in the face, and she suddenly found herself wielding a lot more energy than she ever had, before.

“Then.. why don’t you try and dance again, now-? Maybe it would be easier - who knows? You might even enjoy it more-”

You scoffed, and she tilted her head partially over at you, standing her ground as you shook your head, wondering why she’d even think something like that, right now.

“You seriously think I’d want to do that, again, after everything I’ve told you, today?” You murmured, and she shrugged, unperturbed, before nodding as if she weren’t afraid of what you might say in response to her doing so, right now, your connection to Bianca, and all that playing quite an overbearing prominence, here.

“Yeah,” she answered simply, “why not?”

“El,” you uttered a little exasperatedly again, and she watched you keenly, though still with an expression of solidarity, alongside sympathy; she understood how you felt, losing Bianca the way you had, as well as your little sister, and she then knew - of course she did - how difficult it was to go on with life after such occurrences, but she didn’t want you to lose sight of the things that made life seem more-.. full, sometimes, regardless of the losses you can have, sometimes.

“Look,” she began slowly, her eyes expressing caution, as well as concern, as she held your hands carefully within her own, blocking your way forward as she tried desperately to restore your faith in what was lost, somehow, all whilst she found herself wishing more than anything that she could do the same for herself, after everything that had come down upon her before this moment in time, by now, “I know it’s hard, but-.. you can’t give up on what makes you whole, okay?”

“Ellie-”

She didn’t heed your interjections, eyes full of a new determination you’d never seen flare up within her, before, the way it did, now, eyes still locked confidently and contently with your’s, to the point it got hard for you to breathe in their wake, all over again.

“I didn’t know Bianca,” she began again sharply, but her voice didn’t grow less soft than it was, now, only making it harder for you to not break yourself down, all over again, especially before her, when her eyes were seeking something deeper than what she could determine on the surface of your gaze; she was trying to breach even your soul, perhaps, and sometimes you feared it was working, and much too quickly, at that - perhaps that was what Shalyla and Diana meant, when they’d made the comments they did, earlier, “but I know enough to determine that you both were close, okay? I’m sorry for what happened; I’m sorry I didn’t come and help you guys fight any earlier than I did-”

“What? Ellie, that’s not-”

“But she wouldn’t want you to give up on the little things you both loved to do, the most,” she concluded even softer, and that was when you gave in, faltering as though you knew she was right; Bianca probably hated you right now, for the way you’d been acting, recently - dejectedly; typically broken apart since you’d realised she was just - gone, the day you’d first met Ellie, the way you did. You cursed a little shakily, and she smiled apologetically over at you, as if still afraid that maybe her approach wasn’t as good as she’d thought it might be, a brief moment ago, now. “So, what do you say? Am I right, or-? Am I right?” She inquired, and you hesitated, surveying her a little skeptically, albeit with a somewhat warm gaze, as your heart beat steadily alongside her own again.

“Jesus, Ellie,” you murmured a little timidly, again, as if frustrated, but she somehow knew you better than that; she knew you didn’t mean it in a bad way, just perhaps in a oh-my-god-why-is-she-so-persuasive-way.

At least, she hoped that that was the case here, anyway, considering the situation at hand, here.

“C’mon,” she complained, almost whining, and certainly pouting over at you as you rolled your eyes again, before shrugging in a dumbfounded manner, and questioning your existence as you took a long time - somewhat purposefully, at least, just to get her to react some more, the way that she was now, practically begging for you to give in to her, at this point, but still you wouldn’t give, only making her all the more impatient, as well as frustrated, alongside you, but you weren’t so quick to give in like that, before you spoke up again, wanting to at least know why she was so eager to see you dance again, all of a sudden, the way that she did, now.

“Why? Ellie-”

“Okay; I guess I get why it would sound weird, or pointless, but-.. I’ll put it this way; I want to dance with you; you - you could maybe teach me some things, if you want?” She suggested, and you groaned, evidently finding the idea nothing short of a hassle, at this point in time.

“I don’t need to dance with you, El,” you reminded her a little more matter-of-factly, but she didn’t stand down, only grinning all the more as she watched you with an all-knowing gaze, as if she could see right through every part of you. It was humbling, nonetheless, the way she could see you, like Bianca could, before. Your heart stuttered again, and it was hard enough to hide it, the way you tried to do so, right then and there again. “I’m your bodyguard now, anyway - remember me?” You asked a little more dismissively, and she rolled her eyes, before uttering ‘boring’ under her breath, but the lift of her lips’ curves told you she didn’t mean it - of course she didn’t; not anymore, anyway.

“Sure, but that doesn’t change a thing,” she stated plainly, as you tried to seek an easy way out of this, but - at the same time - part of you wondered if an escape was what you really wanted, especially when she were here with you, the way she was, now, “yes, you’re my bodyguard now, and guess what that means? I expect you to guard me at all times-”

‘Even on the dance floor,’ you both concluded, and you sighed heavily, wondering how you’d even found yourself here, at this point, with her still beaming expectantly over at you, eyes aglow with things you wished you could decipher as easily she seemed to be able to do so, everything a part of you, despite your only recent acquaintance, here, at this point in time.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this, but-” you sighed again, as you awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck using your right hand, what looked like a faint blush invading your cheeks and earlobes as you tried to avoid her gaze again, only to fail miserably as you did, somehow drawn in by every glimmering part of her being, effectively ever since you’d both first met one another, only to gather you enough to give into her completely with a lot more ease, as you grinned stupidly back at her, and couldn’t help the words as they steadily escaped your lips, and much too brightly - “where should we start?”

XXI

You weren’t expecting it to go the way it did; weren’t expecting how she learned as fast as she had to do what you could remember, your heart pounding too fast the whole of the way.

“You’re a natural at this,” you remarked, and she appeared a little embarrassed, as if she were still trying to hide something from you, but you could tell it wasn’t something fatally serious, as her lips curled up at the edges a little into a soft and sweet smile.

You couldn’t think much during that moment; you just noticed the way your heart slipped a beat, especially when your gaze tried hard not to fall upon the smile the way it wished to do so, a brief moment ago, now.

“Yeah, well, you’re clearly an excellent teacher,” she claimed, as the two of you warily kept hold of one another, feeling much too close together, without being able to part any further than you wondered if you should, right now.

You narrowed your eyes a little, even raising your eyebrows in her direction as you tried not to give into her too quickly, all over again, the way you had before.

“Possibly,” you agreed half-heartedly, though you knew you weren’t as good as she was making you out to be; Bianca had often tried to flatter you, as well, even when you accidentally stood upon her toes, at times, “or-” Her easy demeanour seemed to falter again. “You already know how to dance, and this is just an excuse to dance with me - what do you think, El?” You inquired, and she looked speechless for a moment, as if trying to find a way to escape this situation, somehow. “Don’t worry about it; I appreciate it, anyway,” you soothed, and she expressed relief, though she wished it didn’t flatter her as much as you had managed to, like you did, then, a roll of goosebumps prickling along her arms as you twirled her a little, and she warily followed your lead.

“Where did you learn how to do this, anyway?” She pried, and you winced, as if it were your turn to be embarrassed, now, somehow.

“You really like asking questions, don’t you?” You returned, and she appeared taken aback, remembering how Joel had once commented upon her inquisitive nature, a few years ago, now, before he’d taken her away from the fireflies the way he did, then. She still felt guilty for that, sometimes; the way she’d reacted to it, but she still found it difficult to think about how he’d lied to her like that, the first time she’d questioned such a rescue. “El-?” You continued gently, and she winced, realising she’d faltered in her step, before she managed to recompose herself again, and managed a faint apologetic smile over at you somehow.

“Sorry, I just-.. I don’t know what happened, I’m sorry - am I doing it right, now?” She inquired, and you tried not to ponder too much upon what might had crossed her mind the way it did, a brief moment ago, now.

“You’re doing it perfectly,” you reassured her gently, and she expressed relief, evidently glad, though she wished she could try and hold back the vulnerability you managed to pry out of her, “and it’s probably not that interesting, but - to answer your question - I learnt this in a violent assassin cult out in the Alps; it was part of our control regiment.”

Ellie raised her eyebrows, evidently surprised as she tilted her head partially, the glint in your eyes somehow appealing to her as being not entirely a truthful one, right now.

“Seriously?” She replied, and you - in turn - grinned sheepishly over at her, before shrugging your shoulders vaguely, prompting her to roll her eyes playfully, before she gently punched your shoulder, prompting you to giggle barely audible as she shook her head, tilting her head partially over at you as she awaited your true knowledge, genuinely curious to hear more about your own experiences, especially seeing as you seemed to understand her a lot more than some other people she’d met here ever had, before.

“It’s true,” you insisted, not very convincingly, as she snorted, before uttering ‘you dick’ as she had to try and stifle her own rising giggles, in response to your own, alongside her.

“C’mon,” she whined, evidently eager to know, no matter how boring the truth might be, in this case.

“Fine - you caught me,” you gave in as you timidly smiled over at her again, before warily averting your gaze as if you were afraid of allowing a wrong look to show; to grow too obvious, though you feared - at the same time - it wouldn’t make a difference, at this point. Not when you’d both caught one another looking at each other like that, before. “That wasn’t true-.. well, no - it feels like it was close to the truth, anyway, but admitting that my mother forced me into dancing lessons is so dull, isn’t it?” You guessed, and she raised her eyebrows, grinning over at you, in turn, as she hesitantly made to wrap her arms around you, again.

“It’s good enough,” she reassured you, before silence befell the both of you, as your eyes locked with one another, hearts pounding too quickly again.

“El,” you managed slowly, and she appeared nervous again, even as you allowed yourself to return her embrace, the way you did, then.

“You know anymore moves, at all? You are the teacher, remember?” She reminded you, but the smile never left her face all the while, though it seemed a little more weak, this time.

You couldn’t help it, as you giggled softly again; you couldn’t deny that it felt good, being here with someone again, like this, but it didn’t stop the faint ache that eroded you down gradually slowly, over and over again.

“Look, if this - if this is just an excuse to get close to me, I quit,” you remarked, and she raised her eyebrows again, though it amused her to see you a little more flustered than you were, before; the blush that invaded your cheeks again, somehow, after she’d raised her right hand timidly up to your left cheek, now warm with the blood that pulsed just beneath her palm.

“No excuse, don’t worry - besides,” she continued a little more brightly, as if anticipating what it could mean for you both, being able to be this close to one another, by now, “if I want to get close to you-” She inched even closer, and you tensed up even more within her arms. “I could just go somewhere people will shoot at me, and then wait for you to shout at me for doing so,” she speculated, and you winced - in turn - knowing she was right.

“Fair enough - so, what do you want to-?” You both faltered, hearing the click of a gun a few paces away from you, but it was too late to react to it, the bang sounding out before either of you could even open your mouths to speak, or shout, and she didn’t know what to do for a brief moment, time seeming to slow down and blur around her, as soon as she noticed the blood beginning to pour down from your right side.

XXII

Once the gun-shot had rung out, you didn’t know much of anything anymore. You’d felt the bullet; you didn’t need to look down and see the blood slowly beginning to pour out from where it had sharply penetrated you. You remembered Ellie holding you; saying your name, then shouting. But after that everything got-.. hazy.

You imagined you were back in Bianca’s old apartment, warily watching her as she poured you a generous glass of white wine.

“That much?” You remembered saying, and she grinned sheepishly over at you, a mischievous glint forming within her eyes as she offered you the glass, and you keenly accepted it from her, no matter how nervous you truly were, knowing that if you got drunk now, what might you end up doing before her, and how would it impact your relationship with her, as close as it was, now, after everything that had taken place recently, especially with your little sister going missing not too long ago, now, and all.

“What? You scared of having a little fun, now?” She teased, and you winced, before awkwardly shaking your head, as she smiled sweetly over at you, your heart skipping a beat at a time again. “Drink up; you need it - no, you deserve it, especially after-.. y’know,” she cooed gently, before she winced a little herself, and cleared her throat a little regretfully, busying herself with her own portion, now.

You sighed heavily; you didn’t want people to think they should pity you, or Lyla, for what had happened; you knew it was your fault, and being given sympathetic glances as opposed to spiteful ones didn’t exactly make life any better than the way it was, before this moment in time.

“Why did you bring me here?” You asked a little blankly, avoiding her gaze as she dejectedly, as well as warily, glanced back at you, a pained expression residing upon her face again.

“Your mom, she - she asked me if I could-”

“Great - no, fuck this,” you uttered, but she blocked the door a little exasperatedly before you could get up and flee from her again, and you faltered as you lingered timidly before her, your eyes darkening a little as she tried to catch her breath, as if your closeness to one another had knocked the life source out of her chest, somehow, the way it did, then. “B-”

“She wants the best for you; you know that,” Bianca explained gently, “Y/n, look at me-”

“Can you please just-”

“No - look at me, and then maybe I’ll consider letting you leave, okay?” She bargained, and you groaned, before begrudgingly allowing your eyes to lock with her’s, all over again.

You’d never felt so small before; her eyes were whirlpools of green, flecks of brown, and sometimes you wished you could live within them forever, if only she’d let you, and you had the courage to ask her if it wound be possible for you to do so, somehow. She warily lifted her right hand up to your left cheek, and you tried not to shudder, goosebumps swarming your arms; you were glad you’d decided to wear a shirt, that day, rather than one of your old vests that always seemed dirty, no matter how much you tried to clean them, after a few more further scuffles as you seemed to encounter now, almost every day, here.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she insisted, and you almost yelped at the way the words rolled over you, but you managed to swallow it back, your face feeling numb, and tongue feeling heavy as tears began to invade your own whirlpools again, somehow.

“Don’t,” you warned softly, your voice briefly trembling, and her heart sank at how strained your voice sounded, as if you were in danger of breaking down again, if she pushed any further than she had, already, but she couldn’t let you go on like this; she hated it, seeing the way it seemed to burden you, every day, since the moment the accident had taken place, or kidnapping - whatever it was that had happened to her, the way it did, before.

“Please,” she begged, and you fell quiet, your eyes warily searching her own as she winced again, and tried to swallow the lump that was beginning to form within her own throat, the way that it was, now. “Nobody could have known what was going to happen that day - you know that, right? Y/n-”

“What did my mom ask you to do?” You asked weakly, though you cursed yourself for it, as she frowned again, before bowing her head a little, and releasing her hands from you again.

“She just-.. asked if I could try and distract you for a little while - that’s all,” she reassured you gently, and you nodded gravely - of course you believed her; you’d believed everything she’d ever told you, before this moment in time.

“Well, I think you’ve done a good enough job of that already, so-”

“No, I haven’t,” she contradicted confidently, and you grunted as she held you back from the door leading back out into the too-long and eternally dark hallway, “look, I said I’d be happy to let you go earlier easily, but I’m not - not until you crack a smile for me, at least. Can you do that, for me?”

You couldn’t deny you tried, but it didn’t exactly do much to fight your corner. Begrudgingly, at least.

“Not like that,” she remarked, evidently frustrated, but it didn’t stop her from smiling timidly over at you, again, though it pained her to do so, whenever it resulted in a pained expression flooding over you, on your part of the warm exchange, “I want a genuine smile, okay? And neither of us are leaving here today, until I get one - understood?”

You sighed, and she grinned from ear to ear again, her eyes glinting as you shuffled awkwardly upon the spot, wishing you could just disappear already, if it meant you could curl up and die somewhere much further away from here.

“B - this isn’t-”

“Am I understood, or not, Y/n?” She pried, and you rolled your eyes again, before begrudgingly deciding to give in again, knowing that maybe you should do so, just to make her happy, if it did end up making her happy, anyway, by the end of the day, long as it felt, right now.

“Yes, boss,” you murmured a little exasperatedly again, “so - what do you wanna do, exactly? Or what did my mom suggest we do here, today?”

“She wants me to teach you some things,” she answered vaguely, her eyes glinting even more as she did, your heart skipping a beat painfully as you couldn’t help, but scoff, as a smile fought to show as she took a sip from her own glass of wine, before she leaned a little apprehensively against the bar behind her, again.

“So, let me get this straight,” you began again slowly, as if trying to keep your demeanour precise, no cracks left on show, anymore, the way they had been, before, in response to her attempted consolidation of your self-determined well-deserved demons, “my mom wants you - my personal bodyguard, and kinda best friend - to teach me some things, that aren’t - I’m assuming - anything to do with killing Infected, or those hunters?”

“That’s right,” she answered a bit too brightly, and you raised your eyebrows even further, somehow.

“So we’re not going to be doing what we’re supposed to be doing, basically? We’re just going to be-.. procrastinating, or-?” You guessed, and she scoffed, before rolling her eyes playfully in your direction, only flustering you even more as you winced, and timidly hid your face from her again, but that didn’t mean she missed how embarrassed and slightly red you had found yourself appearing, in response to her previous reaction, the way you did, then.

“I wouldn’t call it procrastinating,” she mused, as she swirled her wine a little, before gesticulating her head toward your own as if to remind you of its existence, given that it was still standing quite alone on the bedside table, the way it was, now. You grunted again, this time more frustrated at yourself for being so negligent again, as you lifted the glass off of the surface within your left hand, and hesitantly raised it up to your lips. The liquid wasn’t quite sparkly - perhaps it had been sitting for a while, the last time it had been here. You couldn’t help, but appreciate it anyway, the sharpness taking you aback as you even spluttered a little at the taste, but once it had settled, you couldn’t help, but drink more, your eyes brightening a little as soon as it had started to get the better of you, the way it seemed to be doing so, by now. It pleased Bianca, to see you enjoying such pleasantries again; you’d been a lot more - subdued, since what had happened, before; it had hurt her to see it, more than anything ever had, since that moment in time. It was nice - being like this with you again. It had been, since she’d first met you. She smiled to herself a little as she thought about that fateful day; how your eyes glinted as soon as she had spoken to you, once her sister had introduced the two of you, a few years ago, now, after Outbreak day had officially been announced, before. “It’s not procrastinating to keep yourself healthy and happy, especially when it comes down to things like - well, drinking and dancing, I guess,” she hinted, and you faltered, feeling cold all over at that; you wondered if you should just get up and run now, before you embarrassed yourself in front of her even more, somehow.

“Wait-”

Bianca pouted, noticing the worried look currently residing upon your face again, the way it had, earlier, after she’d brought up your mom’s intentions again, the way she had, before.

“C’mon - it’s not like I’m gonna shoot you; it’s just a bit of fun, okay? Don’t get so panicked over it-”

“How am I supposed to do that, when I don’t know how to dance? Like - at all?” You questioned, sounding a lot more breathless than you did before. You also looked like you wanted to be sick, as if you wished to force the words back down where they came from, but it was far too late for that, now - even you knew that, no matter how much such a fact harrowed you down to the bone, especially when presented in front of her, the way that it was, then.

“Wait, what? You don’t know how to dance?” She mused, looking like it was hard to not burst out laughing right now, no matter how much she wished to do so, right then and there, at such a revelation.

You sighed heavily, before bowing your head again, wondering how much mercy she would have on you, right now, if she could have any, at all, knowing that about you, the way that she did, now.

“Don’t look at me like that, okay? I sign your pay check, remember?” You reminded her timidly, avoiding her gaze like the plague, though you could still feel her eyes boring into you, the way that they were, now.

“And you won’t stop, no matter what, will you? I’m the one keeping you safe right now, aren’t I? Anyway, the one thing I can promise you right now, is that I won’t laugh, okay? Just - explain. You’ve been going to those campsite parties with me for years, now, and you’ve never learned how to dance?” She questioned, and you rolled your eyes again, wishing she’d just drop it; you didn’t like to be reminded of things like that, especially when they could hopefully be easily rectified, anyway.

“You’ve never noticed?” You pried, and she winced, before shrugging truthfully, because she genuinely hadn’t, at all; she’d often found herself more immersed within the experience - or, failing that, in you, but that didn’t mean she’d noticed your lack of a dancing spirit. “I guess that’s understandable,” you mused a little worriedly, before trying to inject a little more brightness into your voice again, “we both know that I’m excellent at coming up with excuses for things, anyway - right?”

She appeared a little skeptical, but you didn’t have time to react to her doubtful look, as she sighed exasperatedly, before pushing herself off of the bar, and offering you her now free and softly enticing hands.

“On your feet, then - it’s time for you to learn, if anything,” she decided, as you warily glanced up at her offerings, prompting your heart to pound much too fast against your ribcage again. “C’mon,” she encouraged a little impatiently, but nonetheless amusedly, as you brushed off the fear that tried to shake you, picked up your drink again, and allowed her to help you up off of the edge of her bed once more. She giggled, noticing the way you almost fell forward, as if you were tipsy already, despite still having a relatively half-full glass left. She didn’t know how she’d done it, but she’d almost finished her own glass, already, but she knew she should try and drink it slowly, wanting to keep herself responsibly mindful for her sake, as much as your own.

“So, how - how do we-?” You began, as you tried to recover from a burst of giggles that had awkwardly escaped, as if trying to relieve you of the embarrassment you’d faced, falling upon her like you had, a brief moment ago, now.

“First of all - stop stepping on my feet,” she advised, and you winced, shifting your ground again as you apologetically smiled up at her again, but of course she’d already forgiven you - how couldn’t she, when you’d been the centre of her world for so long, now?

“Yeah, well - you put your feet under mine, B - what did you expect to happen?” You teased her gently, your eyes locking helplessly with her own again, to the point that you couldn’t quite get yourself to look away, anymore, especially when you both were this close, your bodies almost brushing together as one, the way that they were, now.

“I only did that because I had to; you were gonna fall on your face if I didn’t - you realise that, right?” She reminded you, and you appeared a little flustered again, but not just because of her statement; it was the feeling - her hands running up your back a little. It was so hard not to shudder again, you having to try and think of other things just to stay calm, and not break down that easily in front of her, no matter how much you wanted to, during moments like these that you both found yourself sharing, the way that you were, now.

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts,” she interjected gently, “d’you know what? I’m gonna tell your mom to let me give you dancing lessons; you need them, that much is already clear, right now.”

You rolled your eyes, evidently frustrated by such an observation, but it didn’t stop the smile invading your lips as you held onto her shoulders, your heart beating steadily alongside her’s as long as you were gazing into her eyes, the way that you were, now.

“I believe you,” you admitted whole-heartedly, and she didn’t know what it was about the way you said it that made her eyes want to drop down to your lips again. She could only just hold herself back, focusing her eyes upon your own as she smiled sheepishly over at you again, wondering what she’d done to deserve a warmth like this, especially during times like these.

“You’re so stupid,” she remarked, and you giggled, subconsciously connecting your forehead to her own as you both couldn’t help, but laugh together, chests heaving and falling as you tried to recover again, reminding yourself of the situation; how you needed to keep a clear head, if you wanted to learn how to dance for her, somehow.

“You’re stupider,” you returned, and she scoffed, and you didn’t know how your faces had got any closer than they did, then.

“Oh, really? Well, I think you’re stupidest,” she stated, and suddenly it got hard to breathe, the two of you holding one another even closer, somehow, your clothes brushing against each other a little as you admired one another, the air growing somehow even hotter than it ever had before around the two of you, the way it was, now, “what do you have to say about that?”

You didn’t know what to do; didn’t know how to even think anymore. You tried to catch your breath again, but it had never been so hard to do so, the way it was, then. There were so many things you wished you could tell her, but - all the same - you were terrified. Why would she ever want to try and start something of a new life with you, anyway? Your heart dropped at the thought, and your eyes darkened. Bianca appeared dejected, as soon as you pulled out of your embrace, the way you did then.

“Y/n-?” She began, but you shook your head, slinging your rucksack over your shoulder as her heart began to pound again; head began to spin, at the possibility of her losing you again, somehow. She couldn’t let it happen again, as she caught your arm within her right hand, and you reluctantly stopped in place, forgetting how to breathe all over again.

“B, we can’t-”

“Why? We’re not even doing anything wrong - Y/n, please-”

“I love you, B,” you admitted weakly, and she faltered, her heart skipping a beat again as her grip loosened upon your arm, but you couldn’t bring yourself to rush off again, keeping your head low as she tried to process your words, only to fail several times over; she didn’t think you’d ever feel the same way for her - not in a million years, even, and now that you’d said the words, she didn’t know how to react to them, at first, staring after you tearfully as she tried to catch her breath after you, but it was as if her heart was stopping her from doing so, pounding as fast as it was, right now. “I’ve always-.. but we can’t be like this, because if we do, it’ll just make things worse, okay? And it’s nothing like what it was, before, from what I’ve heard anyway - I just - I want-” You faltered, your voice cracking more regularly, now.

Bianca slowly turned you to face her again, her heart slowing just enough for her to begin to concentrate somehow, as you kept your gaze low, and had never felt so vulnerable, before.

“Then let’s go - away from here - can we?” She asked, and you appeared taken aback again, evidently not expecting such a request from her, after you’d confessed to your feelings for her, assuming she’d hate you if you did, somehow, not that you wanted her to, anyway - of course you didn’t; you just couldn’t hide it anymore, especially after you’d spent so long just - wondering, what it would be like, to be with her, the way you were, now. You could still feel the faint pulse of what felt like electricity running beneath your skin, at her looser grip on your arm. It made everything-.. so much brighter, than it had ever been before, now.

“You’d-.. want to - after-?” You inquired slowly, appearing puzzled as she beamed over at you, before slowly easing your face back up to her’s again, the fingers of her left hand resting delicately beneath your chin, now, only making it all the more harder to think clearly, somehow.

“Of course I would,” she answered truthfully, and you couldn’t help, but grin up at her again, your eyes a lot lighter than they ever had been, before now, “Y/n - I - I’ve been in love with you since-.. since fucking Palmdale - I loved you, even then, I was just too-..” She sighed heavily, and you didn’t know how to explain the relief that flooded over you; how it started with a warmth flooding the depths of your stomach, before it began to swarm your upper body, a small tear leaking down your right cheek as you giggled softly, before leaning forward to delicately press your lips to her own, no matter how much it scared you to do so, before she’d smiled at you like you were her world, as much as she was, and had always been your’s, too.

“Fuck, that - that was-..” You managed, after breathlessly pulling away, though it had been a delicate thing to start with. “B, I-”

You both faltered, hearing something crashing in the hallway outside; it sounded like it was something tinny, like one of the trash cans you’d both passed by, and that’s when you heard the notorious clicking of an invading Clicker staggering by. Bianca rolled her eyes, evidently annoyed that your and her time was being interrupted by the stupidest of things, such as the infected could be, sometimes.

“Assholes,” she remarked, and you sighed heavily, before making to remove your own shiv from its sheath, but she caught your arm before you could do so, prompting you to appear taken aback again as you glanced back at her, so many questions pouring off of you, despite their silent conveyor. “They aren’t coming in here - leave them,” she stated boldly, and you raised your eyebrows again, but you didn’t dare protest against her, knowing that when she was confident, there was no way that that confidence could be knocked down, not even by a herd of incoming clickers flooding the establishment, even if there were that many out there - it didn’t sound like there were more than a couple - not yet, anyway. “Besides, I’ve worked on that door for ages, now; it’s stronger than you think it is - trust me, I’ve tried to break through it myself; it’s not happening,” she boasted, grinning a little again as her chest puffed out a little, as if she were proud of her remodel of a simple defence system.

“I fucking love you,” you stated, before throwing the shiv away, and kissing her just a little more passionately. It would be a lie, if you said you’d both slept at all, that night, but you knew the Resistance wouldn’t be particularly happy with either of you, the bastards its leaders were. You couldn’t deny it was nice, though, as well as quite flustering to think about, again and again, to have a moment with her like that, as Clickers screeched their frustrations outside the room, as if trying to find you both still, but Bianca had been right; you didn’t know what she’d done with that door, but boy did she strengthen it just enough to hold them all out, no matter how hard they bashed and clambered against it, the way they did, then. You loved that girl, and now that you knew she loved you, too, you didn’t think anything could ever take you away from one another, but you guessed you thought wrong, before you found yourself crying and bleeding out within Ellie’s now shaky arms, all over again, the way you had, before.

You guessed you’d just have to live with it; time doesn’t stop for the good moments in life, no matter how hard you fought for it to.

~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed it! Thankfully, it doesn’t seem as if it is breaching the text-block limit this time, so I managed therefore to fit the whole instalment into this post! I look forward to further exploring this idea, and certainly hope that you’re looking forward to the next one, with me! Have a lovely rest of the day, everyone!

As always,

Your ever faithful, H.H. ❤️