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phoward89 · 1 year ago

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Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Based on this ask

Love Is A Losing Game

The avox stood against the wall, waiting for you to beckon, while you sat in your sunroom with your longtime best friend, Livia. You were at a small table drinking tea and listening to her complain about her toddler, Plutarch.

“Ugh. I swear, I can't even go to the powder room without him following me.” Reaching for a biscuit, your dirty blonde friend sighed, “I told Hilarious that we need to hire a nanny, but he said no.”

She took a small bite of her biscuit as you sipped on your tea. You didn't know why she was so upset about her toddler wanting to spend time with her. And you told her so too.

“You just don't understand how demanding motherhood is, Y/N. Just you wait and see.” Pointing to your round belly, Livia factually remarked, “In a few more months when you pop out Coriolanus’ little brat you'll be singing a different tune.”

“Don't call Cassian Xandros a little brat.” You snippily ordered your friend, causing her to just roll her eyes at you. Setting down your teacup, you decided to change the subject to something that you needed to get off your chest; something that's been eating away at your mind. “I think Coryo's having an affair.”

“He's only been president for a few months, Y/N. If word got out, well, it'd be scandalous and I'm sure his political career would be dead in the water.” Livia told you while nibbling on her lemon butter biscuit. “Do you know with whom?”

“No, but I know he has to be having an affair, Livia. I mean he comes and goes at all hours and half the time he's not even coming to bed; we haven't slept together in a while too.”

“Oh no, now that is a problem.” The dirty blonde socialite sighed. “I bet it's Clemensia Dovecote that he's cheating with. You don't know, since you were a couple grades below us at the Academy, but they were always walking into the school linked arm in arm. Even though they denied it, they looked like a couple back then.” Livia bluntly informed you, picking up her teacup and sipping it.

“Really? I didn't know that.” You honestly told your friend. Reaching for your own teacup, you revealed the name of the person you thought your husband had a thing for back in his Academy days. “Coryo was always with Sejanus back then; I always got the vibe that they were a little bit more than just friends.”

“Oh I hope not. He was district.” Livia spat out; the thought of the president having a past love affair with a district person making her skin crawl.

If only she knew about what went down between him and Lucy Gray. Oh, she'd shit her pants if she knew about that.

You know, of course, since he told you about it after a year of dating. When you had to all but pull his teeth to get him to reveal why he refused to tell you that he loved you; show you anything other than lust and his OCD tendencies.

It didn't bother you.

Correction, him having Lucy Gray as his ex and his failed first love didn't bother you, but the number that she did on him- now that’s what bothered you.

She fucked his head up pretty bad; took you a long time to unfuck it up too. To get him to be able to confess his love to you.

But somewhere deep inside of your soul, you always feared that Coryo was just telling you what you wanted to hear. That he didn't truly love you; that he could turn to somebody else once he got bored of you.

“Yea…but they were close friends. Like brothers” You reminded Livia. “And his death hit Coriolanus hard.”

That was an understatement. Your husband still had nightmares about his fellow comrade’s death. It happened a decade ago, but he was still haunted some nights by nightmares. Those nights you usually had to ride his cock to calm him down so he’d be able to go back to sleep.

He never talked about the nightmares, other than the one time he told you that it was about Sejanus’ death. You never pried, knowing that the Plinth boy's execution was a taboo topic for Coriolanus.

The socialite rolled her eyes, only to suggest, “If you think he's having an affair then you should wait up for him tonight and confront him.” Giving you a look from over her teacup, she added in, “It's what I would do.”

Coriolanus was exhausted. No, wait, take that back- he was FUCKING exhausted.

Between trying to clean up the fucking mess that older then dirt President Ravenstill left for him and trying to ensure a smooth transition of head gamemaker duties to his successor (a recent University grad that sadly didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground), he was stretched too thin.

Burning the candle at both ends as one might say.

He was barely sleeping; worse he was barely able to spend anytime with you.

You were 6 months pregnant with his first child.

A son.

He felt guilty for being in his office on the opposite side of the presidential palace or at the Citadel, but he didn't have a choice. The games along with trying to keep the country afloat was his top priority.

As much as he wanted to spend his late afternoons and evenings with you, he couldn't. And he wanted nothing more than to fuck you dumb on his dick every night too, but sadly he was just too tired anymore for that either.

When the new Head Gamemaker calls up in the middle of the night frantically asking what to do if an intern falls into a mutt tank…well…yea…that's when Coriolanus knows he has to do two jobs instead of just one.

He's stuck puppeteering the new head gamemaker *cough* telling him step by step how to do is damn job since he fucking fudged his job application and has shit for brains *cough* and running a country that's national bank account’s lower than it should be *cough* looks like President Ravenstill and his cabinet were embezzling funds or something cause the numbers aren't adding up *cough*.

“Yes, well, if you need any more assistance on this matter don't hesitate to call.” Coriolanuse tightly told the Head Gamemaker. The man was grating on his nerves. Before the unqualified idiot could utter a word, the president said goodbye and hung up.

Hung up with a firm, loud, clunk since he was so tired and aggravated.

Unfortunately, the president was always tired anymore. He was even too tired to fuck you these days, which was truly depressing for him since your Coryo felt you were even more beautiful now that your belly's round with his child.

Coriolanus felt that your pregnancy makes you look radiant. Your skin had a glow to it, he felt you look ethereal.

Your tits were full from the milk your body was making in order to feed your son once he was born; he loves your milk heavy boobs. Coriolanus Snow’s a tits and ass man; so your boobs going up by 2 sizes was heaven for him. The president enjoys sucking and massaging them in his large, calloused hands while you ride his cock. Burying his face in them, peppering kisses in your cleavage.

Something his exhaustion has been keeping him from doing.

Also, your ever growing belly (full of the precious life you created during a very passionate and lustful night 6 months prior) made his chest swell with a burning pride. Coriolanus loves kissing your stretch marks and running his hands all over your belly.

He also enjoys whispering to your belly, telling your growing son all kinds of father-son secrets.

But he’s been too tired and tied up with his never ending work to do that ritual.

Half the time he was passing out on the sofa in his office before he could even make it to your room; the other half of the time he was sliding into bed in the wee hours while you were in a deep sleep.

He hated it.

But he has to endure it because he refuses to have the games flop during his first year as President of Panem.

When Coryo dragged his feet into your large, ornate bedroom he wasn't expecting you to be up, waiting for him. He assumed you'd be asleep, like every other night.

“It's nearly 2 in the morning, Y/N. Why aren't you sleeping? You know you need proper sleep in your condition, my darling rose.” Your husband lectured you, tiredly fumbling to untie his tie.

You decided to do what LIvia suggested. Wait for your husband and confront him. So, when he shuffles into your room, a sight for sore eyes, with the nerve to lecture you about being up, you lost it.

Your eyes narrowed at the president as you snipped out, “Coriolanus, I know you're cheating on me. Who is she? Is it Clemensia Dovecote or somebody else?”

Pulling his tie off and tossing it to the side, he looked at you as if you had lobsters crawling out of your head. You’re accusing him of having an affair. Seriously?

“With how I’m spread too thin, darling, where would I ever find the time for an affair?” Coriolanus chuckled.

He thought this was funny, oh how dare he!

“This isn't funny, Coriolanus! You're coming and going at all hours; we never sleep together anymore. Who is she?!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, watching your husband unbutton his waistcoat and take it off.

The platinum blonde’s long fingers numbly unbuttoned his shirt. His tone was flat and tired as he gave you the blunt answer of, “The she that's taking all of my attention off of you, my love, is the shaky finances of Panem and the Hunger Games.”

All of the air was knocked out of your lungs upon hearing your husband's words. All you could do was blink. “What?” you whispered in disbelief.

Coryo's shirt hit the floor, in the pile his red waistcoat and tie was in. Toeing out of his shoes, he sighed, “Being president and passing the baton for the games to an under qualified head gamemaker, unfortunately, has taken up all my time.” Unbuckling his belt and pulling down his deep crimson pants, he offered up a sincere apology of, “I’m sorry, my darling rose, that my neglect made you think, even for a moment, that I’m being unfaithful to you.” His pants pooled around his long, pale legs, and he gracefully stepped out of them. “Y/N, I truly did not mean for you to feel such a way, my love.”

Watching your husband pull off his socks and toss them to the side, you cried tears of joy. “I forgive you; I'm just happy that it's work taking up your attention and not some whore.”

Coriolanus tiredly made his way over to the king-sized bed you shared and climbed into it. Pulling you into his arms, he let out a puzzled scoff of, “Clemmie? Really, of all people to accuse me of having an affair with it's her?”

“I didn't accuse you of cheating with her; that was actually Livia this afternoon when I told her that I suspected you of having an affair.” You informed your husband as he pulled the blankets over the both of you.

“You told that bitch you thought I was cheating on you?!” Coryo exclaimed, his nostrils flaring; baby blues wide in utter horror.

“Don't call Livia a bitch, Coriolanus.” You reprimanded your husband, only to remind him that, “She's my best friend.”

“I don't know how you're best friends with that shrew, darling.” Coriolanus mumbled mostly to himself, even though you heard him. His large, calloused hand rubbed your ever growing baby bump softly. “Telling Livia your ill founded fears was a mistake. She'll just tell that political reject husband of her’s; he'll be calling up Capitol News 6 with a juicy insider story about the unfaithful president.” Coryo’s tongue popped angrily. “My fake affair’s going to be the the main news headliner tomorrow morning, my darling rose.”

“No, it won't, Coryo.” You assured your husband since you had too much faith in your best friend.

Your husband on the other hand didn't have faith in Livia Cardew-Heavensbee, at all. No, he didn't trust her after the temper tantrum she through when her mother informed her that he was courting you, General Prometheus Byzantine’s step-daughter, and had refused to meet with the Cardews regarding a money match.

Coriolanus never told you about that because he didn't want to taint your friendship with the dirty blonde shrew, who only married Hilarious because she couldn't have him: the adoptive heir to the Plinths fortune.

But now maybe it was time to tell you. Maybe it was time to taint and ruin a girlhood friendship of yours.

Only to ensure that you wouldn't trust anyone that didn't carry the Snow name.

Yes, the only people you could trust were him and Tigris. He was even leery about Tigris’ new lover, Aleka. Eh, but that was because his spies haven't been able to dig up enough information on them for the president to decide whether or not they were trustworthy.

But, he's sure that after he tells you the truth about Livia that you'll be rethinking that friendship.

And when (not if) that article hits the news as the big headliner, he'll make sure to invite Hilarious over for drinks.

Drinks that only one of them will enjoy.

Snow lands on top and he'll make sure that anybody who slanders his good name or makes you believe he's an unfaithful man, when he's actually the most devoted and faithful husband in all of Panem, chokes on their own blood.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen , @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1

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kikker-oma · 5 months ago

Note

I made another thing based off of your whumptober art :)

This one in particular:

The old man sat on a log near the crackling campfire, awake for his watch and he had set his eye on someone in particular who had seemed...off. The vet was tossing and turning in his bedroll, eyes squeezed shut when he could see his face, but it wasn't relaxed like when he was asleep. He eventually crept down and whispered, "Vet?"

The veteran's eyes opened slightly, and the old man just noticed the bags under his eyes. "Yeah?" He replied in a whisper.

"I noticed you hadn't gone to sleep yet. It's third watch."

Legend groaned. "I haven't been able to fall asleep for a while, but I tried everything I could. Nothing to do about it."

That was worrying.

"Are you sure? I know a remedy, that you most likely haven't tried."

"Go for it, old man, I'll do anything at this point."

He pulled out the ocarina, and played the Song of Healing, closing his eyes to let the soothing melody reach the vet's waiting ears. He nearly fell asleep himself but finished the tune and opened his eyes. The veteran had his eyes closed and though he wasn't quite asleep yet, Time smiled, hoping that this would do the trick and did a quick patrol.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The old man noticed things. From the vet's stumbling and sloppiness during battle, to mess ups with conversations and answers. His seemingly random mood swings which seemed quite unusual for him. He had confessed that the song didn't do anything and for literal magic to not work, well, Time was more than confused. He had kept it to himself because the veteran pleaded with him to not worry the others.

One night he had second watch, and the vet had somehow ended up with first. He slept peacefully until he woke up and realized it was his turn for watch, and he hadn't been woken up by someone else. (His internal clock told him it was approximately halfway into second watch.) So he got up immediately, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and what he saw shook him.

The vet was trembling on his knees, and when the old man rushed to talk he noticed the expression on his face. There were tears pouring down his face, and his eyes were barely open, staring off into space. The old man noticed that the veteran's hands were shaking even more, arms wrapped around air. "Veteran?" Time spoke loudly. "Link?"

When he got no response, he got down on his knees in front of Legend and took his arms, repeating his name. "Uncle?" Legend mumbled wearily. "What're you doin'?"

"I need you to stay here, I'm going to go find help."

"Nnnooo, don't leave me," Legend gasped deliriously. "If you go to th' castle..."

"I'm not going to the castle," Time tried to reassure. "I just need you to stay with me, okay?"

"M'kay."

He whistled sharply, getting everyone up because this situation was getting dire and he needed help. "What's going on?" The captain questioned, voice a bit frantic.

"Our veteran. He needs help."

They were at his side instantly. "'ncle who're these people," the vet slurred, still staring off into nothing.

"Is he sick?" Sky frowned.

"I don't think he's been sleeping, at all recently," Time worried. "He said he tried everything but still couldn't sleep."

"I'm not trained for this stuff, I'm afraid," Warriors shook his head. "Traveller?"

"All I know how to do is magic," The traveller replied and shrugged looking downcast at the fact.

"Oh!" Wind snapped his fingers. "Someone on Outset had a similar problem. It was because they were really stressed and they fell asleep once they were more relaxed."

"Stress? That seems plausible," Warriors nodded.

"Link," Time uttered, catching the veteran's slow attention. "Tell me, are you stressed about anything? Worried?"

"I mean, 's a quest, Uncle, of course I'm going to be stressed sometimes."

"I know, but right now, what's troubling you specifically?"

"You're always so kind," Legend muttered after a long moment.

"This isn't going anywhere," Four whispered.

"Uncle, don't die."

Time swallowed concern for that statement, said with desperation and he looked helplessly at the rest of them. What could they really do? Why couldn't he figure this out? The chain looked at them as a leader, so why was he feeling so helpless right now? Why couldn't he help one of his boys?

Then there was one sentence that nearly drove the old man to his knees.

"If you die, Grandma Malon is gonna kill me...she already lost th' Hero 'f Time, and you're just as important. Don' leave me to save the world like he did."

THAT LAST LINE OMGGGGGGGG

LOOOOOORE!!

SECRETS SPILLED!!

THE REALIZATIONS TO FOLLOW!! AAAAAAGGHHHGGSHXJSBAHAIA

The Ocarina was such a good try, poor boys just don't know how they can deal with this sweet little sleep deprived man🥺

Gosh sleep deprivation is no joke, it's brutal for real

Thank you so much for writing this Uni! Your writing is a treasure as always❤️❤️❤️

#sweet uniquevoidflowers #ahhhhh I love that you wrote for that whumptober drawing!#and made such a cool story for it too🥰#fics for oma #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu time

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 1 year ago

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Innata Malevolentia - Part Two

Summary: Dibs gathers the prisoners for a devastating announcement | Word Count: 2.8k ~ | warnings below the cut!

Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

warnings: mentions of past non-con crimes (but vague), intimate examinations, Ettore being creepy, mentions of forced pregnancy, forcing others into sexual situations, manipulation, mentions of a menstrual cycle and ability to bear children, violence, threatening language and actions

Nothing strikes fear in the heart like the feeling of being followed.

Completely helpless. With no weapons but your own fists to use should you need.

Against a man, broad and tall, muscled and fit, what chances were there for her?

If he so wanted, everytime he walked past her cell, looking inside with barely-contained malicious intent, he could do anything.

She dreaded Dibs coming into the room at night, to tighten the zip ties on their wrists to keep them in their beds.

"Is this really necessary for all of us?" She'd asked with a stiff look once.

Dibs didn't reply, and kept her eyes averted to the task at hand, and as punishment had even tightened them somewhat compared to normal. The plastic dug into her wrists uncomfortably, even making it difficult to relax and go to sleep in the first place.

Maybe Dibs knew what Ettore wanted, and thought, that she should be awake to see it happen.

"You shouldn't make her hate you more than she already does" Mink mused, her wrists bound loosely at her sides, only her head turned towards her cellmate.

She scoffed, "You think she hates me?" She asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes, "forgive me for not wanting to be tied down to my bed while I sleep"

Mink sighed and looked towards the ceiling.

"Not ideal" is all she replied with, "Boyse has really dropped us all in it, huh?"

She wasn't in the mood to make a joke of it. For her, it was a real fear she felt. And the idea that the threat named Ettore looked ever closer the more she thought about it.

There were only so many more times he'd simply walk past her room, before paying her a visit.

Mink slept like a fucking log. And he probably knew this, having walked past many times, his steps increasing in volume as if to rest if anything would rouse her into wakefulness.

He was making a meal out of it. Well and truly.

Stalking his prey. Seeing which way was best to tear her open.

Days didn't exist on the ship. Only periods of time between sleeping.

Of course they'd try to replicate days and nights with the lighting but it never felt natural. And it always felt it dragged on more than it would have done on Earth.

When Dibs came back in one morning to cut the zip ties from each of the women's hands, she left with parting words.

"Infirmary. 1 hour"

Simple as that.

She'd given Mink a weird look.

It couldn't mean anything good.

Was it everyone? Or just them?

But they soon found out when they walked to the opposite side of the ship, that it wasn't even the entire population of prisoners, though few. But more like 5 or 6.

The infirmary wasn't large by any means, so when they all piled on, they were practically shoulder to shoulder. Apart from her, who managed luckily to nab a chair in front of Mink, who stood behind her with her hand on her shoulder in comfort of what was to come.

However bad it would be.

Dibs was waiting in her chair near her desk. With a file in hand. Looking stiffly at everyone as they entered.

It wasn't just women, Monte and Tchemy had also joined after a moment. And lastly, three minutes late, Ettore also. He stood leaning disinterested against the doorway, tall enough to see everyone inside.

She didn't miss the way he threw a smug glance in her direction. Her head whipped forward, even the briefest of eye contact made all the little hairs at the back of her neck stand on end.

"Thank you all for dropping by" Dibs started.

As if you haven't forced us to be here, she thought.

Every one of them looked wholly disinterested. Bored even. Monte had his arms crossed over his chest, his chin tipped upwards with his eyes looking down on her.

What was the deal with those two? There was something more to it than met the eye.

"I know the rumours that have been circulating, about the purposes of your frequent appointments" she continued, crossing her legs and playing with the end of her long braid slumped over her shoulder.

"I am here to tell you now that they are somewhat true. In line with my research I wish to create a healthy fetus, to check the effects of radiation on development"

She wanted to scoff.

It sounded so sick when she said it out loud. And yet, she seemed almost proud of it.

"For months, I have been collecting sperm samples, but so far any attempt at conception through artificial insemination have been…unsuccessful"

Good.

She felt Mink's hand on her shoulder grip just that bit tighter. Confirming, she was right. She'd always been right.

"Therefore, I am planning to endeavour upon a new method. One I hope will prove fruitful to our cause"

Our cause.

Who did she think she was? Did she think they were all grateful to be stuffed like a Christmas turkey given the first opportunity?

She was fucking delusional.

Before she could open her mouth, Boyse beat her to it.

She always had a short fuse.

"Just get on with it" Boyse shifted from foot to foot, putting on a front of toughness, despite being afraid herself.

Every woman was thinking the same thing.

What the fuck did this have to do with us?

But Boyse's inability to hide her fear only made Dibs smile.

"I have examined all the females, and have come to the conclusion that you three" she pointed to them, all huddled together to make themselves appear bigger, "have working reproductive systems, and semi-regular menstrual cycles"

And?

"You will be paired up with a male based solely on your genetic compatibility. Opposing immune systems. With the goal of creating a strong, healthy fetus"

What. The. Fuck.

The air was sucked out of the room.

Mink's hold faltered and fell to her side. Shocked.

Dibs smiled as she carried on, "to create a child in the natural manner"

Oh fuck that.

"This is hardly natural" she spat, with poison in her voice. Dibs hooded her eyes as she looked at her.

But it didn't deter her one bit.

She was entitled to give her every bit of anger she felt.

"You're playing god"

Dibs didn't respond to that. But her lips twitched, as if she were holding back the urge to smile.

"And what if we refuse?" Mink asked, her fingers trembling with anger.

"With all due respect" Dibs answered quickly, "I'm afraid that's impossible"

"You can't make us!" Boyse exploded, her cheeks all red, stance like a cat ready to pounce.

She wanted to be sick. It felt like being sold, without even the decency to exchange funds.

Some of these people were murderers. Rapists. The worst of the worst.

It felt wholly wrong to be betrayed by your own sex. Given to the opposite like a fully wrapped present they hadn't been allowed to touch til Christmas morning.

Some of the men, she knew, were just aching for the permission to touch them. Having been restricted for so long inside prison, as well as unable to do anything whilst incarcerated on Earth.

To do anything they wanted.

And all of the women felt betrayed that Dibs had given it, without thought of their pain, their honour and dignity.

She had thrown blood in shark-infested waters.

And she didn't know if something like that could be forgiven.

There was nowhere to hide from them.

Because now, those men they were forced to live alongside in fear felt entitled to them.

To their bodies.

To enact their barely-contained violence in a manner which struck fear into all the women involved.

A fear only a woman would understand.

The fear of suddenly realising that these men were so much larger than them. Stronger.

And it wouldn't take any effort whatsoever to hold them down and do what they liked.

It was like walking home at night all over again, tugging your coat over your body tighter to appear smaller, with each key nestled between your fingers, and the echoed laughter of a group of men behind you.

Women had good peripheral vision.

It was sickening to think it was evolutionary.

A needed skill.

But here, when outside of these cold, metal walls, there only existed emptiness, dread widened a pit in their stomachs.

There was no escape.

Dibs read from her file.

"Based on genetic compatibility, Boyse shall be paired with Monte"

Boyse argued, and Monte simply stated he wouldn't do it, preferring to keep his fluids to himself.

But her gaze remained on Dibs in front of her, arms crossed across her chest instinctually, waiting to hear her name.

"Mink with Tchemy"

She closed her eyes, bracing for impact. Like waiting for an oncoming car to hit you, the headlights becoming brighter, anticipating the air being punched out your lungs.

"And Ettore with-"

Fuck.

Even her name next to his made her want to vomit.

And then came the thought of what they'd have to do.

And that nearly made her gag in reality. An acrid, sour taste flooding her mouth. Her limbs feeling numb, like all the gravity had been sucked out from the ship.

She dare not look at him.

Her eyes immediately went about the room until she spotted what she'd been after.

A scalpel.

She looked at Dibs with indifference. Not wanting to give her the benefit of thinking she cared enough to act out.

Dibs knew what Ettore was.

And still, relinquished her fellow woman to him. In pursuit of a fucked up, unethical experiment on a child.

"You may begin tomorrow. Share a cell if that is easier"

Fuck you, you old cunt.

You know 'he' will not wait a day.

"I will book in weekly appointments, to check your progress"

And I will cave your fucking face in.

It was difficult to say nothing.

She still didn't spare Ettore a look when she got up, slipping past Mink, who was stood still in complete shock. She used this brief moment with Mink blocking her body to slide a scalpel off the table and slip it into her pocket.

Boyse was verbally abusing Monte, stating that she wouldn't let him touch her.

Mink and Tchemy simply stared at one another from different ends of the room, resigned to it.

When she reached the door, his arm was across it.

She lifted her eyes to his, and saw what she expected. A smirk pulled at his lips, his features, sharp and defined, were exaggerated with the harsh clinical light. His otherwise blue eyes, were pushed to the edge with the black of his iris, glimmering.

Like an animal with a meal in front of it.

Unchained.

He leaned back, dropping his hand, to let her pass.

She almost didn't want to walk past him, like she'd be tangled in his vine like hold if she dared. As if he'd drag her beneath the depths and give her no air just to watch the way she clawed at her throat in desperation.

Even when she was walking down the hallway, to the toilets to be sick, she felt no respite. No sense of safety in being away from him.

She knew he'd be back for her.

That he'd let her go now, to play with her. Make her second guess if she was really safe.

It was dizzying, the dull tingle in her gut she got when she saw him now. Like being punched square in the face with your ears ringing, before your body falls limply to the ground with nothing to cushion your fall.

It was unclear if the tingle was a nice one or not. For the sake of her sanity, she hoped not.

They were expected to go about their daily duties as if nothing had happened.

As if their lives weren't going to be irreparably changed the following day.

Whereas before, she saw him everywhere.

She hadn't seen him once since the infirmary.

It was a blessing and a curse.

Not seeing him felt safe, grounded. And that perhaps on his hellscape of a ship, there was something to feel grateful for.

But not seeing him, not even hearing his footsteps, meant that there was anticipation there. A morbid suspence.

She knew what kind of man he was. Heard the rumours of what he'd done to women before, enough to land him in this hellhole.

Who was to say he wouldn't do the same, especially now he was given permission.

But not consent.

Perhaps that's the bit he liked.

Mechanically, she folded the clothes on top of the dryer as it shook violently back and forth, the clothes being tossed inside. The loud hum vibrated the air around her, filling the otherwise quiet space.

The laundry room was a place of respite. The light in there was broken, so it didn't have the same stark vibrancy as the others. It had a dull glow, making the room look as if it caught the sunset.

Those were the things she missed about Earth. The natural things like a sunset.

But she couldn't deny that seeing the stars in a certain way made her feel calm.

But it didn't last long.

She dropped the shirt she was folding when a large, male hand slapped over her mouth, tugging her body back to crash into his. Her first instinct was to fight back.

Her breath hissed quickly against his hand through her nose as she fought, fighting the urge to gag when she felt his breath waft on her neck as he spoke.

"Stay still or I'll break your fucking neck"

His voice was dark and low. Unlike anything she'd heard before.

He sounded like an animal.

Ettore had finally come for her.

He grunted and fought as she thrashed around, his other hand coming round to wrap around her chest to keep her arms from hitting him. But he couldn't keep her from wiggling out of his grasp, and she got one elbow free and hit his jaw with a crack.

"Fucking stupid cunt" he hissed, barely reacting and as soon as she turned he struck her across the face. It wasn't even the force of it that had her vision blur and ears ring, but the abruptness of it.

Ettore grips her face with an iron hold, his fingers digging painfully into her jawbone. Holding her in place, forcing the back of her head harshly against the wall and pressing himself against her.

Even in the orange hue of the room, he looked utterly terrifying, with no warmth to him whatsoever. Only his blond hair gave off some semblance of radiance.

There was that look again.

No colour to his eyes. His jaw tight with rage.

"Don't be a spoilsport. I'm the only entertainment you're likely to get around here" he grins, "Just let me take what I want and we call it even"

Her wide eyes feel like they're shaking looking at him. And while he's preoccupied pressing his erection against her clothed core, her hand rifles in her pocket, fingers wrapping around the scalpel she'd swiped earlier.

"And if you're lucky, I might be gentle" he smiles.

The smile doesn't falter when she reaches up and presses the blade, as small as it is, against his throat before he has a chance to close in on her.

In fact, he looks amused.

"That's cute"

She can hear the blood roaring in her ears. His fingers flex against her face.

She presses the blade flush to his skin, wondering what it would be like, what it would feel like, to slash his throat, and feel his thick, oily blood cost her arms and hands.

"You're out of your league, sweetheart"

"Don't fucking call me that" she says in return, the best she can when he holds her face.

Ettore smirks, "You have no idea what I'm capable of doing to you if you continue to challenge me"

She swallows.

In a way he's right.

She had no idea what he's capable of doing.

And she doesn't want to find out.

"Touch me again and I'll slit your fucking throat"

She laughs through his nose, his fingers slipping from her face, and she takes the first genuine breath she can, after a while of holding it.

He has a way of doing that.

"I look forward to it"

She's only aware of just how close he'd been when he's gone. His tall, broad form seemed to encompass hers entirely. His aura was like the deepest poison, sinking into every pore and crack there was, turning her insides.

He could have overpowered her.

He could have.

And as he slips out of the laundry room, his gleaming eyes looking back at her trembling form with her back pressed against the washing machine, a tiny slit against his neck bleeds where the blade was pressed.

He wipes it away with his thumb like a paper cut.

He said it himself.

'I like a little struggle'.

#ettore x oc #ettore high life #ettore imagine #ettore smut #ettore x reader #ettore #ettore x y/n #ettore x you #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #high life fanfiction #high life 2018 #high life movie #ettore fan fic #ettore fanfic #ettore fan fiction #ettore fanfiction #ettore fic

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tookthe-405 · 9 months ago

Text

VBS

Chapter 2 (part 2)

Love me Anyway ~Chappell roan

DAILY CLICK🇵🇸 DONATE ON

LINKS🍉🍉 GOFUND.ME!

rebel!ellie x fem!reader

a/n: i just really wanted to show what happens after the "prank"

summary: you grew up religious without questions adn in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

The night was very stressful, for you and for Ellie. While you couldn't sleep because guilt was eating you up from the inside, Ellie couldn't sleep because because the excitement of seeing the pastor's face kept her brain up. You'd be lying if you said you didn't regret anything, because you do. Just not enough to tell anyone.

If you could have ratted out Ellie, everyone would know that it was done out of manipulation, even if that's really not the case.

Ellie isn't manipulating you, you're just under her spell. And you're pretty sure she doesn't know anything about it, so how manipulative can it be?

This morning you got up earlier than everyone else. you hardly slept at all and only listened your heartbeat getting faster and faster. Around 4 a.m. you dozed off, but it was more of an uncomfortable half-sleep. You looked at yourself in the mirror and thought about the many years before, where you would´ve been scared of Ellie, afraid of being thrown out of camp and losing the respect of the church.

That fear still exists, but you no longer felt it in your blood, because no matter what happened you would find a place, maybe even the one where you belong. It would also be nice if Ellie would be part of this place.

After the sermon in the morning, buses arrived at the youth hostel to take you to the small town that was half an hour away. Hood River was a small town in Oregon and you visit it at least twice a year to talk to people about God. In fact, there are already many believers there, but Pastor Toby is never really satisfied with this small town, as if he has a private dispute with the pretty place.

You were still outside and waiting for the bus with Ellie and the others, when you saw the many group leader loading the candied apples into a separate car. The reality of the prank hit you again.

But Ellie calmed you down and told you and the girls about the many crazy pranks that the middle school students had pulled at her school.

She seemed to be fitting into the group more and more, changing parts and information about herself to fit into the picture and it made you a little sad to know it. Having to watch it.

Ellie is great exactly the way she is, she shouldn't have to change. In no world she should ever feel out of place.

After the trip, the organization started. The town is a bit big, but you already know where Christians live and you only go to the houses where non-religious people opened the door last year, or closed it again very quickly.

"We're taking over the lover lane and we´ll just move forward to the eugene street," announces Louisa, who has completely prepared for today.

She goes ahead with a city map and lots of candied apples in her cloth bag.

"Ellie, I have such a bad feeling about this"

"It's all good, we haven't been anywhere yet."

When you arrived on the quiet street, the mid-20-year-old explained that it would be smarter if everyone answered the doors one at a time, as it would be quicker that way.

"Does everyone know their sayings and verses?" Sometimes, Hazel seems more professional than Louisa herself.

"Yes Hazel, how dare we forget it" ellie sighs

the curly haired girl almost hisses at Ellie.

"We'll meet everyone here again when you're done with your houses."

You all split up into parts and the thought of being separated from Ellie makes you incredibly nervous.

The first house is house number 10.

The house itself looks peaceful. Blue painted, with the American flag proudly hoisted and a car parked in front yard.

You go through all the steps again.

ask if they believe in the lord

if not, try to demonstrate that god can help in every situation

help through bible verses

distribute the message of the church

deliver the (poisoned) apples

Great.

Your fist hits the brown wooden door, not too quietly and not too loud. You could see Ellie grinning in front of you and talking about God whether she really meant it or not.

“Hello?”

you quickly put on a smile.

“Hello, sorry to bother you, I’m part of the community a little further south of here and wanted to ask if you’ve already found your way to jesus?"

You notice that Christians always talk in "Not yet" Terms.

As if we expect every person to find god one day, and the ones that haven´t already are just behind in life.

How annoying it must be to have a stranger to dictate your future.

"ok sweetie i have, but i still worry daily"

That suprises you, normaly the answer is just yes or no. But this lady is ready for a whole conversation on her foot step.

"What kind of worries?"

"i always did what god told me to do and i think i did a good job, but my poor son just doesn´t follow him. I swear i thaught him better! Now he has children who don´t belive and follow jesus path and i dont want them to go to hell!"

The older woman sighs sadly, at the edge of tears.

You´re not really sure what to say to her.

"well i´m positive that god will show himself to every human at some point. Maybe that just hasn´t happened to you family yet?"

The woman turns back slightly and screams a boys name into the house.

"im sorry young lady, but my grandchild is over for the summer and i really want him to hear this"

She squeals in delight, but your blood freezes. It feels as if the child's entire future is in your hands and you briefly thought about handing out the apple now so that she would just throw you out.

"Oh God, this child! Please come in, miss."

That's not on your list of things to do, but something makes your legs wander in anyway.

You can hardly say no now.

"Just sit down, sweetie, I'll get him out of the garden for a moment."

You nod to her and turn your head around the room. Everything looks very… old and religious.

Out of respect, you take off your shoes in the hallway and see that the old woman has slippers just like your grandparents. Large, heavy leather slippers.

The house was definitely old and you wonder if maybe her husband built it. The wallpaper is new, or at least in very good condition, but the old wood on the door frame shows the true age of the house.

You hesitantly sit down on an old chair at the round dining table and peek into the old woman´s kitchen.

Overall, a beautiful house, made for a child's summer, but looks can be deceiving.

You're just staring at the little cross on the wall. For a moment you feel very watched, but you shake the anxious thoughts out of your mind and concentrate again on the here and now.

"Come on! It won't take long, darling."

A young boy sits down on the opposite end of the table, probably not older than 10.

He doesn't feel like being here. Ellie would like him.

You quickly unpack your little Bible and introduce yourself to the boy. He doesn't say anything and just stares at you silently.

His grandma snorts. "unbelieveble, his name is Marcus"

You nod slowly and realize how uncomfortable this situation is.

How are you supposed to convince Marcus, who would rather play outside, to believe in God? The fuck thinks his grandma who you are.

"Well Marcus, your grandma wanted me to tell you about how much God loves you and how much he wants you to be with him at the end of your life-"

"I don't care"

"what"

"I don't want to hear it, grandma!"

His grandmother looks at you forgivingly, but you can also see a desperate pleading.

"Young man-"

"What is that?"

You follow his, finger pointing to the floor where the basket full of garnished apples lies.

"Oh that-"

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Now would actually be a good time to die, or at least to be dragged out of this house, by someone who finally realized how cursed this whole mission was from the start

"cool! can i have one"

Marcus suddenly seemed to have found his concentration and respect again. His grandmother also looks at you expectantly.

"Sure."

you slowly take out a wrapped apple, silently hoping that Ellie will breaks into the building and tells you that it's all over. You hand him the apple on a stick and just hope that he isn't hungry yet.

"What the dear lady wants to say is that you should give the lord a chance. He loves you very much and absolutely doesn't want you to end up in eternal fire for-."

You nod very slowly and stare at that damn apple. Poor Marcus. The old woman drives forward.

"What your father taught you is-"

The boy bites into the apple with a grin and it takes exactly 2 seconds until he spits it out again.

You grimace with a sigh.

"Fuck"

"excuse you!"

The Grandma stares at you in disbelief, you worry for a moment whether her old googly eyes might fall out and you imagine how she looks at her grandson like that, every day when he forgets to say amen at the end of a prayer.

Luckily for you, he also starts crying and you probably underestimated his age a bit, or he's just way too dramatic

"what's wrong honey?"

"um i need to go, have a good day"

like a reflex you get up, put your church's contact details on the table and run down the narrow, old but young hallway, put your shoes back on and run out of the house.

Summer air blows through your hair. You seem to have lost all control over your legs because you run and run and run, even when the American flag is nothing more than a small mixture of red, white and blue.

For some reason you suddenly think about a summer with oranges and ellie, another world who is so possible but yet so far away from reality, it almost makes you cry.

The many colors of the houses fly past you and you just grab your bag tighter, so that those shitty apples don't fall out and someone else has to eat them.

You don't even notice where you are until you find the roundabout who lead to the many streets.

"God.." You take a breath over and over again, resting your arms on your knees, but your lungs seem to be allergic to air because it feels like nothing is getting in.

"Hey…"

A hand on your shoulder and you jump back, a small scream leaving your lips, worried that the old lady might have followed you.

Red hair, green eyes and freckles.

Your hand is on your chest and you are breathing deeply and quickly.

Your eyes eat each other up and you are sure that you have never had such an intimate relationship with anyone else in the world.

Thank you so much for being here, for playing a role in my life and for not just being a nameless girl.

She looks at you, the sweat on your forehead and your loose shoes that you probably didn't even tie.

God, does she even know how precious she is to you?

"You scared me"

"I noticed, sorry…"

After a few moments you feel like there was enough eye contact, even though you're pushing for more, so you look away. Pay attention to anything else, the birds in the background, the lake that you can almost see from here or all those American flags.

"Sit down first, you're about to fall over"

Ellie gently grabs your hand. Your hands aren't really linked, she just grabs yours and leads you both to the side of the street, to a small bench.

"It worked, by the way. The apples taste really bad."

Ellie chuckles next to you and lets go of your hand, why does she have to do that?

"I know, a guy almost set his dog on me when he tried one. He was such a disgusting creep, who probably hasn’t showered in days and he was standing in front of me in my bathrobe."

That makes you laugh.

"Those are always the worst. They made little boy cry… he was really mean, but I still feel kinda bad. He didn’t want to listen to anything I said about god”

"Funny guy" Ellie replies and you smile shamelessly at her from the side.

Then she clears her throat and looks forward again.

"I'm sorry if I… dragged you into this. I didn't mean to force you to do anything."

You're now holding her hand, that's resting on her knee.

"You didn't force me to do anything Ellie, you gave me something I always wanted as a child"

"To make a boy cry?"

“Freedom,” you correct her, grinning.

She smiles shyly back and you watch intently as her cheeks become redder and redder. How beautiful this life is!

"Hey guys!"

as quickly as it happened, you take your hand away again and even Ellie slips a little further away from you, still red.

Kate walks down the street towards you with a weak body.

"There's something wrong with these apples"

Thanks for reading and for all the sweet comments and reposts!! Somehow I can’t comment anywhere, not even in my own posts and tumblr won’t help me fix this 😭

by the way, i realised that "tobi" (the pastors name) is fucking german and that in english its toby, so i changed that so sorry guys.

But it means "god is good" which i find pretty fitting

But a biggg thank you to anyone who reads and enjoys my story’s it means a lot to me🫶🫶

Don’t forget to interact with the links!!!!

Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @vqxen @hersuniverse @nelzooo @shiimer @bellaramseysgirlfriend @sonthingwithl @vi0lentb3rry @elliewilliamsblunt @be3flow3r @adelaide013 @abbysbraids @liasxeatt @jungkook-37

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smilesrobotlover · 10 months ago

Text

AO3

<<Prev Next>>

Chapter 6- Hold Me so I Feel Safe

Uli watched anxiously from her home as Colin and Talo paced at the entrance of Ordon. Mayor Bo wanted the two to be the backup for Link and Rusl in case anything happened, meanwhile Beth and Bo would protect the village if there was an attack. So far, no monsters have invaded the village, but Rusl and Link haven't returned either, even when the sun went down, plunging the village into darkness. Uli should’ve slept, and she tried to, but waking up to her husband still missing in bed kept her from being able to. All she could do was watch the entrance as Colin and Talo waited impatiently. Every minute that passed felt like an hour, and her worry grew with every second that Rusl and Link weren’t there. Soon, the sun began to break the horizon, and Uli felt a lump in her throat. She watched Colin and Talo waste no time to move out, with Beth and Bo watching the entrance as they left. Dread rested in Uli’s stomach as she watched her son leave the village, possibly facing something dangerous enough that kept Link and Rusl from returning. She didn’t doubt Colin and Talo’s ability, but their fighting skills weren’t as great as Link and Rusl’s. If something happened to them… how would Colin help? What if he got hurt? What if Rusl and Link were hurt? What if she lost all of them simply because Bo and Coro practically forced them to investigate the woods at night?

“Mama?”

Uli looked behind her where Rela and Kori stood, watching her with worried eyes.

“Is papa still gone?” Rela asked in a small voice, her hand clutching onto Kori’s as his eyes got watery. Uli bit her lip and looked up at the entrance, hoping that Rusl and Link would walk right through, laughing and alive. She took a deep breath when nothing changed, and she faced the children. She couldn’t cry about this, she needed to be strong for them.

“Yes, Rela, they’re still searching the woods,” she said, praying that they were still searching and weren’t fighting for their lives.

Rela frowned. “Maybe I can help Colin to find them! I have a wooden sword! I can fight bad guys with it!”

Uli quickly shook her head. “No, Rela, you will stay here until they return, ok?”

Rela pouted and Kori looked down, his bottom lip quivering. Uli’s heart broke and she knelt down to be at eye level.

“Kori, baby, they’re going to be ok.”

Kori sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “I— I want my papa.”

Uli pulled him into a hug. “I know you do, sweetheart, I know you do.” Uli held him for a moment as he cried, and she looked over to see if anything had changed. It didn’t. She stood up and gestured to the kitchen. “How about we eat breakfast, ok?”

Kori nodded glumly and he and Rela sat at the table as she started making food for them. Uli was constantly looking out the window every chance she got, anxiously seeing if the boys had returned, but there was still no sign of them. After she made breakfast, she sat at the window, watching the entrance as if her life depended on it. Kori and Rela finished their breakfast and started playing silently, making Uli far more anxious. Goddesses, what if she had to live the rest of her life like this? What if they never returned and she was the only one who could take care of Kori and Rela? What if she lost all the happiness and joy she’s had for years now that her family brought. She couldn’t imagine losing all of that in seconds, she just couldn’t!

Before she could spiral further into the horrifying thought, Uli saw Beth shoot up and run to the entrance, and her heart beat against her chest as if it were trying to escape. She held her breath in anticipation, and she saw Beth enter Ordon, then Talo, then Colin, and finally, Rusl and Link. Uli let out a cry when she saw the two and she ran out the door, sprinting to the group.

“Rusl!” She shouted out, and she pulled her husband into a hug, crying into his shoulder from relief.

“PAPA!” She heard Kori yell as he sprinted to his father, with Rela following closely, and she heard sighs of relief coming from everyone.

Rusl leaned into Uli, resting his head against the crook of her neck, his arms wrapped weakly around her. He felt tired. Uli pulled back and cupped his face so she could observe him. His eyes were half open and bloodshot, heavy bags were beneath him, and overall, he looked exhausted.

“Oh spirits above, what happened out there?” She asked, looking at Link who looked a tad better, but not by much.

“Ma, make sure he gets some rest, ok?” Link said, pulling away from the group and moving towards his house.

“Link—“ Rusl called out for him but Link stopped him.

“I’m going to tell everyone and write the letter, ok? You get some rest.”

“You need rest too.”

“I’ll get rest when I’m done, I promise!”

The two seemed rather agitated, but they didn’t argue further. The group watched Link walk away, and Uli frowned.

“Tell us what? What letter? What’s going on?” She asked, and Rusl let out a heavy sigh.

“I… don’t… don’t go to Faron woods,” he said simply, and Uli looked at everyone else, specifically Bo who looked worried.

“What do ya mean, Rusl? What did you two see out there?” The mayor asked him, and Rusl shook his head.

“‘m too tired to explain it just… stay away from Faron woods. Especially at night, please.”

Beth and Talo gave each other a worried look, and Kori and Rela pressed themselves up against Rusl’s legs.

“Well, let’s get you to bed, ok Rusl?” Uli finally spoke up, she gestured for her kids and Kori to follow. “I assume you’ll be staying with us, dear.”

Kori nodded and looked down, fidgeting with his fingers. Uli didn’t know what happened, but she couldn’t help but feel worry over what was happening. But at least her boys were alive.

Thank the spirits they were alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Uli stared at Rusl’s folded clothes in front of her. She spent a good chunk of the morning trying to wash them, but they were stained black. His shirt, his headband, his trousers, his beloved ordon obi and sash, it was all covered in black splotches. Uli figured that it was all mud, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, it wouldn’t come out. His shirt and pants were ripped in some places as well, and she came to the conclusion that his clothes were a lost cause. But she figured she could keep these until Rusl confirmed for her to throw them out. So she folded up them up and set them down on the table after they were dried. And she simply stared. Everyone in the house was quiet and the air was tense. Rusl passed out as soon as he got to bed, Colin sat in a chair watching Kori and Rela protectively, and the two kids simply stared at their toys. Link had been running around the village talking to everyone and even making Coro stay with Fado. But he never swung by to talk to the family, she assumed he was saving them for last.

The silence was suddenly interrupted by screaming coming from Uli’s room, and she felt her heart leap to her throat. She and Colin stood up and rushed to the door, swinging it open to see Rusl wide awake and panting, clutching his chest as his eyes looked around frantically. They landed on Uli and Colin and he relaxed slightly. Uli gave Colin a look and he nodded, returning to his spot by the children, who looked terrified.

“It’s ok, dears,” she said softly to them, entering her room to where Rusl was. He was silent as she sat down next to him, and he avoided her gaze.

“Rusl?” She said softly, resting a hand on his shoulder. He smiled slightly, but it looked forced. He gave her hand a gentle pat.

“I’m ok… just had a nightmare.”

Uli frowned as he looked away, clearly disturbed by the nightmare. She began to rub his back which made him relax, and she let out a sigh.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened?” She asked. She was willing to wait, but she and Rusl made sure to tell each other everything. If something was out in Faron woods, she needed to know.

Rusl shook his head, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Uli nodded and stood up. “Get some rest, darling,” she simply said, beginning to head to the door, until Rusl gripped her arm, stopping her. She looked over at him confused, and he had a desperate, almost embarrassed look on his face.

“Uli… could you… um… just… stay with me?” He asked, quietly. Uli smiled and sat down next to him, opening her arms to him. He relaxed and rested his head on her chest, allowing himself to be held by her. She rubbed his back and neck, ruffling his soft hair. The motion seemed to soothe him, and he was back to sleeping. Uli continued to hold him, not wanting to leave his side. She wanted to be here when he woke up again, she wanted him to feel safe by another person being beside him. Rusl began snoring softly and she giggled quietly, resting her head against his and closing her eyes. She’ll be here for him, and when he’s ready to talk to her about what happened, then she’ll still be here to listen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Colin glared blankly at the ground in front of him, his sword resting in his lap as if something would attack any second. Rela and Kori were chatting quietly about their toys, and his sister glanced at him.

“Colin? Do you think papa will be ok?”

Colin looked up at her, interrupted from his staring. He sighed and shrugged. “Yeah he should be.”

“Why was he screaming?”

“Nightmare.”

Kori and Rela glanced at each other worriedly.

“I get nightmares too, maybe I can sing grandpa a song?” Kori suggested, beginning to stand up, but Colin stopped him.

“Not right now, Kori. Let gramma take care of him, ok?”

Kori pouted and sat back down, petting his cat plush gently.

“What do you think happened?” Rela asked quietly, staring Colin down. He simply shrugged.

“I don’t know. They wouldn’t say,” Colin frowned at the memory of him and Talo finding the two men. They were by the Faron spring, both looking filthy and exhausted. Colin nearly got tackled to the ground by Link when he ran up to them, clearly jumpy from whatever happened that night. No matter how hard Colin pressed, they simply brushed his questions away. It couldn’t be a bear, they would’ve said so, and he was sure that if it was, they wouldn’t have been gone all night. At least not running around the woods, which was clearly what they were doing.

The door opened, causing Colin to flinch. Link was in the doorway, his cheeks flushed red as he glanced around the room. Kori got up and hugged Link’s legs, and he quickly gave his son a squeeze. Colin joined the two at the doorway, anxious to finally know what was going on.

“Link—“

“I gotta get mine and Kori’s things, I’ll be right back,” Link cut him off, giving Kori a kiss on the head. “Is there anything you need from the house?”

Kori looked at his toys and shook his head. Link nodded and left before Colin was able to register what was happening.

“Wait—“ he started, but Link was already gone. Colin let out a frustrated huff as Kori returned to his place next to Rela. The door to his parent’s bedroom opened and his mother peeked her head through.

“Was Link just here?”

“Yeah.”

“What’d he say? Did he tell you what happened?”

“No, he just left.” Colin returned to his place on the chair, glaring ahead. Uli tilted her head at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just… worried. And confused.”

Uli walked over to him and ruffled his hair, pulling him into a side hug. “We all are.”

“Is pa ok?”

“Yes. I just came out here to grab another blanket for him.”

“Did he tell you what happened?”

“No, he doesn’t want to talk about it yet.”

Colin groaned. “All this waiting around is just making me anxious.”

“Me too, dear. But right now, your pa needs time to open up about it.”

Colin sighed as he leaned against his mother, staring at the doorway.

“Where was Link going?” His ma asked.

“To get his and Kori’s things.”

“Well… maybe he needs help?” She suggested, giving Colin a look. He glanced at her confused.

“I think he’s fine—“

“Go help him, Colin. See if he’s willing to open up to you.”

Colin’s eyes widened in surprise and he sat up. “Will you be ok with the kids?”

Uli gave Rela and Kori a smile. “Of course I will. You talk to Link, and I’ll talk to your pa when he’s ready. That way they won’t have to repeat everything to us.”

Colin smiled slightly and nodded, heading out the door to follow Link. The air felt eerie as Colin walked to Link’s house. The people that were out were speaking in hushed tones, watching Colin as he silently walked. He was relieved to reach the clearing that held Link’s treehouse, away from the stares. Epona was pacing the ground, clearly feeling the anxieties in the air, and Colin heard rummaging coming from the home. He jumped up the ladder and knocked on the door before letting himself in. There were bags sitting in the middle of the floor, and he heard noises coming from the basement.

“Link?” Colin called out, certainly not wanting to surprise him with his presence. There was silence, then grunting as Link emerged from the basement, carrying another bag.

“Colin? What are you doing here?”

“I… just thought that you could use some help,” Colin muttered, suddenly getting nervous about asking Link what happened. His older brother furrowed his brows, then looked at the bag around his shoulders.

“There’s not a lot. I can handle it just fine.”

Colin sighed and looked down. “Link I… I just wanna know what happened.”

Link stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. “I’ll tell you when I bring our stuff over—“

“No you won’t. I know you won’t. You’ll just tell us to avoid the forest and then head out to deal with it with the rest of us feelin’ confused.” Colin blurted out without thinking. He immediately regretted it, but where he was expecting anger, Link’s face only held exhaustion.

“Listen, y’all don’t need to know everything,” he said quietly.

“If there’s something going on in the woods, don’t you think I should know what it is?” Colin pressed. “I’m not the scared kid I was before, I can protect myself and Ordon, and I want to. But I can’t do that without knowing everything!” Link’s face was blank as he stared at Colin, and he quickly added more, “I can relay the message to the others so you won’t have to explain everything again.”

Link stared at Colin for a long moment, a concerned expression on his face. His jaw twitched as his eyes looked back and forth, and he opened his mouth slightly, before closing it again. Colin raised an eyebrow as Link turned his head away.

“It was… just a monster,” he mumbled, and Colin rolled his eyes.

“I know it wasn’t just a monster! You and pa would’ve said something!”

Link glared at him for a moment, then plopped his bag with the small pile on the floor and sat down, rubbing his eyes. Colin watched him patiently, staying in the same spot with his arms crossed.

“Colin… it… it was a shadow beast.”

Colin’s blood ran cold and he felt his eyes widen. Fear took hold of him and memories of hiding in the sanctuary from black monsters flooded in.

“H-how?” He asked quietly, and Link shrugged.

“I don’t know. I don’t know how it slipped under my radar after all these years.”

Colin felt himself sway a bit, and he sat down on the ground, his legs crossed. “Are— are you sure?”

Link nodded. “Positive. It let out a scream to paralyze me and pa, I’d recognize that scream anywhere.”

Colin looked away, remembering the battered men when he found them.

“So… what happened?”

Link gave Colin a look and opened his mouth to explain the story. He explained them searching around the house, he explained being paralyzed by a shriek, he explained looking for pa after it took him, and he explained fighting it until the sun began to rise. Colin listened to every word, his stomach sinking lower and lower as Link talked. He felt himself grow nauseous as he explained the beast vomiting Rusl up, and the implications made him lightheaded.

“Is this thing… eating people?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly.

“I…. I’m not sure. The scent it…” Link trailed off, staring blankly at a spot on the ground. “None of it makes sense.”

Colin tilted his head at Link as he grew silent, his expression blank.

“Why didn’t it go after you?” He finally asked, and Link shrugged, staring at his left hand.

“I have some theories,” he answered, before letting out a heavy sigh. “How’s pa?”

“He’s fine, he had a bad nightmare but he's resting.”

Link nodded and smiled slightly, staring at the pile of bags with an exhausted look. Colin pursed his lips and stood up.

“Resting seems like something you should be doing too. Come on, let’s get this stuff to our house.”

Link’s eyes held a hint of stubbornness, but his exhaustion got the better of him and he nodded. Colin grabbed some bags and gave Link a small smile, before moving to the door.

“Colin.”

He turned around and saw Link glaring at him.

“You know how serious this situation is now. I need all of you to stay away from Faron woods. Stay together and do not go out at night. You understand?”

Colin nodded slightly. “I understand. If… me and the others can help you and pa fight it—“

“No, it may be a shadow beast, but whatever it was doing for ten years made it strong. Me and pa are going to castle town tomorrow to make a plan of attack, but for now, stay away from it.”

Colin looked down, feeling slightly disappointed that they were leaving so soon. “Alright. I’ll try to keep everyone safe.”

Link smiled slightly and gave Colin a quick hug, patting him on the back before pulling away.

“Thanks Colin. I hope I can solve this soon.”

“I know you will, you always do,” Colin said encouragingly, and Link looked down bashfully.

“Sure…”

Colin wrapped an arm around Link and guided him out the door. “Let’s go, you look like you’ll pass out any second now.”

Link chuckled and let himself be led out, his arm wrapped around his little brother.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was in a tight space, he couldn’t move his arms and legs. His body was bent at an awkward angle and the air was thick with moisture that he couldn’t breathe. He struggled to move, to crawl out of his prison, but he couldn’t no matter how hard he tried. Something wrapped tightly around his body, but he couldn’t see. It was pitch dark, and he felt helpless as tendrils snaked around him, coiling around his neck. He tried to scream for help, but he found he had no voice. He couldn’t break free, and even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to crawl out. He was hopeless, he was going to die, it was all over for him.

He was dead.

Rusl jolted awake, breathing heavily as the feelings from the nightmare lingered. His heart was beating quickly against his chest as he looked around the dark room. He squinted his eyes and went to sit up, but he felt something; something wrapped around him. He nearly panicked again, but he heard breathing, and realized that it was just Uli. He was in his home, with his wife laying behind him, one arm under his neck and the other under his arm. He let out a sigh of relief and laid his head back on the pillow, holding onto her hands. He was safe, he was ok…

Rusl closed his eyes, trying to relax in his wife’s hold, but he couldn’t. His mind kept returning from the night before, the beast that he saw, that attacked him, that Link saved him from. It’s black, eyeless face, it’s snarling yellow teeth. Rusl shuddered, flinching at every creak his house made. What if it was in Ordon? Watching him through the window? What if it came back for revenge? He looked behind him at his window, expecting to see a black beast snarling at him, but he found nothing. There was nothing, he was safe. But he didn’t feel safe, not even in his own home.

A desire to protect his wife and family overcame him, and he spun around, wrapping his arms around Uli. His wife began to stir from the sudden movement, and she pulled away, staring at him with tired eyes.

“Rusl?” She asked softly, looking around. “Is everything alright?”

Rusl bit his lip and sighed. He didn’t mean to wake her up….

“No, it’s ok, Uli, I’m sorry I woke you up… I’m just…”

Uli frowned and traced her fingers along his face. “What’s got you acting like this, darling?”

Rusl sighed. He should tell her. He knows he should tell her. But he didn’t want to talk about it, he didn’t want to relive that moment. Uli picked up on his hesitation and gave him a peck on the forehead. He melted into the kiss and hugged her tighter. Goddesses above he loved this woman. He loved her and she deserved to know what happened. He let go and sat up, staring at the dark room, only feeling comfort with Uli beside him. He never hated the dark…. But now…

“Rusl?”

Rusl took a deep breath and began to explain everything to her. When he and Link went to Coro’s house, when the creature shrieked and paralyzed them both. Rusl’s senses were clouded when that happened, and he barely got a good look at the creature with his torch. But he does remember when it grabbed him and snuffed out the fire. He tried to gloss over when he was inside the thing, since that was the part that got to him the most, but instead he spilled all his words out describing it. Describing the tendrils wrapping around him, keeping him in place he tried to escape the tight stomach. He didn’t know how or why the tendrils suddenly let go, but he was able to wiggle out of the stomach enough for the beast to vomit him up. The memory got too much for him at one point, and he himself felt like he was going to vomit. Uli held him as he tried to get ahold of himself, and he went back to explaining what happened, but in a much more disorganized manner. He truthfully didn’t remember much after he was pulled free from the mouth of the beast. His eyes were covered in black slop and he blacked out after a sharp pain went through his leg. He vaguely remembered something tightening around his ribs to the point where he couldn’t breathe, but he couldn’t tell if he imagined it or not. Then he woke up to his son watching over him worriedly, and it was over. It was the morning and the beast was gone.

He looked at Uli awkwardly when he was finished. He hoped it all made sense, but he wasn’t focused on explaining it in an organized manner. Uli was silent as she thought about all that he told her, her hand never leaving his back.

“So, what are you going to do? Link mentioned letters.”

Rusl nodded. “Me and Link are heading to castle town to tell the resistance about this first thing tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? Are you sure it’s safe?”

“No. But we can’t sit in Ordon afraid for our lives while this thing takes people and—“ Rusl stopped himself. What was it doing to people? Devouring them? He was inside its stomach. If Link didn’t save him would he be…? He shuddered. He couldn’t think about that.

“Are you sure you’re fit to go to castle town? It sounds like you went through a lot, darling.”

“I’m sure. Link found fairies to heal us. We’ll be fine.”

Uli rubbed his back for a moment and sighed. “Alright, I take it you want us to stay out of Faron woods?”

Rusl nodded. “Avoid Faron woods, especially at night. Try to stay indoors and try to stay together, ok?”

Uli nodded, her brows pinched together. Rusl hugged her and rested his head against hers. Uli melted into the embrace and pulled them both down onto the bed.

“Please be safe,” she muttered, closing her eyes as she buried her face in his neck. Rusl didn’t reply, he just laid there holding his wife, listening to her beginning to snore softly. But Rusl couldn’t fall back asleep. He was on edge, he kept feeling like he was in danger, and eventually he pulled away and walked out into the living room with a spare sword in his hand. He spotted Kori resting against Link, and he smiled slightly. He didn’t think about them being out here, but he shouldn’t be surprised. Link was too far away from Ordon, it was safer with them both here. Rusl gently sat down in the armchair next to the couch, watching the door intently.

“Pa?”

Rusl turned and saw Link wide awake, holding his son in his arms.

“Can't sleep, Link?”

He shook his head. “Kinda hard to. I’m anxious to get to castle town.”

“Me too.”

Link sat up, laying Kori down and tucking him into the blankets. “So are we gonna talk about what happened?”

“I already discussed it with your ma, I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

“Oh… ok, but…” Link stopped himself and sighed. “Never mind.”

Rusl frowned and studied his face. “Do… you want to talk about it?”

Link pursed his lips. “I just… I’ve been thinking about it all day and… I don’t know…”

Rusl sighed. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I just… that creature that attacked us… I… it can’t be…”

“What?”

“Well, I keep thinkin’ about it, and that thing was a shadow beast, but… it was so different.”

Rusl faced him fully. “Shadow beast? Aren’t those the Twili creatures that attacked us at the temple of time?” Link killed those creatures quickly before Rusl was able to comprehend what was happening. They were terrifying, bigger than a normal human, with otherworldly masks covering their face. He didn’t recall the beast that attacked them being the same, but then again, Link said they were different.

“Yeah, those are shadow beasts. Being around one as a light dweller will turn you into one, but… I don’t know, this thing didn’t seem to turn you into anything…”

Rusl shook his head in confusion. “Link, you’re not making any sense. You say it was a shadow beast, and though they’re similar, they were too different.”

Link shrugged and let out a sigh, leaning forward. “Sorry, I’m just thinking. It didn’t have a mask, it was big, and it seemed more powerful than a normal shadow beast. It… felt like a shadow beast that’s gotten powerful over the years. I’m just confused on how I missed it…I fought all the ones Zant sent to me, but where did this one come from?” Link frowned and looked up at Rusl, his blue eyes filled with worry. Rusl gave him a small smile, not fully understanding what Link was saying. His boy was rambling his thoughts out without thinking about how clear he was being. Link’s eyes suddenly got watery, and he turned away.

“Link?” Rusl shot to his feet and gathered his son in his arms, who melted into the embrace while crying. Rusl rubbed his back as he cried in his shoulder, rocking him back and forth.

“I–I was s-so worried ‘bout you,” Link whimpered, clutching Rusl tighter. “I thought you… you were gonna die and–” Link sobbed, interrupting his ramblings, and Rusl gave him a kiss on the head.

“I’m ok, son. I’m ok, thanks to you.” Tears were streaming down Rusl’s face as well. He thought he cried himself dry already, but apparently there were more tears to be shed. They held each other for a long while, the relief from his son being safe finally crashing down on him. Although it was an awful experience, Rusl would go through it over and over again if it meant his family would be safe. Though he began to wonder why the beast didn’t attack Link, and why it went for Rusl instead. He stopped crying as he thought about it, hearing his eldest hiccup quietly. He supposed it didn’t matter in the end, his son was safe, he was safe, and that was all that mattered. After a moment of crying, Link finally pulled away.

“Sorry,” he muttered, and Rusl scoffed affectionately, giving him one last squeeze.

“You don’t need to apologize, my boy.”

Link smiled and looked at his son, who was wrapped head to toe in blankets.

“Hope we didn’t wake him, we weren’t being quiet,” Rusl said with a chuckle, and Link shrugged.

“He’ll be fine…. Hopefully.”

The two chatted quietly the rest of the night, discussing their plan for the next morning, and how they were going to fight this beast with the help of the resistance. Rusl’s fear melted into fury as they discussed it, and he was ready to fight this thing. As soon as the sun began to rise, Rusl got up and started to get his things together. The sky was a dull gray as Link and Rusl strapped their things to their horses, explaining the situation to the confused residents of Ordon. Link was speaking to Kori quietly, giving him a hug and a kiss as Kori sadly hugged him back, while Rusl bid his farewells to Uli and Rela, and as he pulled away from his wife, she gave him a stern and worried look.

“I’ll be back, Uli. I trust you can keep them safe?” He said softly, and she smiled slightly.

“Yes, please be careful, darling.”

Rusl kissed her lips and nodded. “I will.”

When Rusl went to Colin, he was staring at the ground blankly, and Rusl tilted his head. “What’s wrong, Colin?”

“I– Link told me everything that happened and… I want to go with you guys!”

Rusl was taken aback. “You want to go with me and Link?”

Colin nodded. “I–I want to! I want to help you guys!”

Rusl smiled slightly, seeing courage in his once timid son, seeing passion in his eyes when there used to be content, it made him proud. He almost said yes, but he stopped himself. His smile fell and he gave Colin an apologetic look.

“Colin, I would love it for you to come, you’ve grown so strong and capable, but… It’s too dangerous, and I need you and the others to stay here to protect Ordon in case something happens, ok?”

Colin looked down sadly and nodded. “I understand.”

Rusl sighed and pulled him into a hug. Goddesses, his youngest son had grown up so much. He was mature, wise, and brave. Rusl couldn’t be more proud of him.

“Next time, next time I’ll take you with me,” he promised, giving him a firm pat on the back. “You’ll be a great addition to the resistance.”

Colin gave him a squeeze and pulled back, a sad smile on his face as Rusl pulled away to get on his horse. He and Link gave their family a nod and took off, silently riding to castle town.

#I just made this joke earlier but I don’t know how I feel about this one lol #don’t like it as much as the others #some parts I liked but idk #I’m not feeling the best this morning so that could do something with it idk #poor Colin just wants to help his pa and brother :((#and poor Kori and Uli and Rela. so worried #I love Uli. just a soft lady #smiles wtites #love at twilight #Kori #don’t worry baby boy you’ll get your chance to shine again #not next chapter but eventually #twilight princess #btw the Twili beast is not eating people ;)

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candywife333 · 1 year ago

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Only Here for the Food

Summary: I am having Jungkook's baby. That's right bitches, you heard me right. We had a one night stand and now I am going to make him pay in cash and chocolate doughnuts-- currency of the gods. No emotions, just mucho dinero. That's the motto for today. There's no way he can fall in love with a virtual freeloader right? Let's all pray that he doesn't for my sake and yours.

chubby reader x idol (loaded) jungkook

Disclaimer: This character of Jungkook is not a representation of the real life Jungkook. Keep in mind this is all fiction.

Mini- series

(haven't decided on how many parts. I guess however many it takes me to get my thoughts across)

Part -2 link

PART 1

"Um, excuse me, jungkook"? Jungkook scrunched his eyebrows into little squiggly lines at the hurried voice of his studio manager. "Yes, manager-nim, what exactly is the problem?"

"I don't know how exactly to put this Jungkook, but there is a heavily pregnant girl out in the waiting room with all the members. She is telling everyone that she is pregnant with your child, from a one night stand. She is sitting there eating cold ranch Doritos and demanding that we get her tiramisu and alfredo fettucini from the cafe below".

Jungkook's right eye brow twitched in anger and disbelief, who the hell was this impudent, audacious thot? He slept with many girls, and he never failed to use protection. There could simply be no way that she was pregnant with his child.

He ventured down to the waiting room to see who the hell this girl was. As he entered the room, he saw a panicking Namjoon pacing the room as he usually does when he is agitated. Namjoon caught sight of him and took him in front a heavily pregnant girl.

The girl looked like she was literally 15, dressed in a calf length baby pink flared cotton dress with a fuzzy white oversized cardigan, oversized pearl earrings, cream-white kitten heels , and a blindingly white ribbon tied to her hair in a ponytail. She looked like she had stumbled off the set of my little pony and the care bears.

She smiled as she stretched her body and protruding belly over the entire couch, making Jimin and Taehyung sit up to avoid her limbs sprawled out on the couch. The mysterious girl grinned lazily, "Hey Jungkook! Remember me from the hotel down the road two months ago? We met in the karoake bar. My name is Y/N, if that rings a bell at all". Jungkook stood there, eyebrows furrowed, quivering with indignation, "Who the hell do you thing you are? Barging into my waiting room? Who even let you inside the premises of HYBE"!

Y/N merely yawned at his furious voice, "ummm, I don't know. I think this man with really wide shoulders and thick lips. He talked about preserving lineage or something really fancy. He left me here when I said your name, as though he was electrocuted". She smirked, lips slanted upwards into a diabolical slant, eyes glinting with mischief, "I don't know why he would be surprised? Considering you had no qualms sexing me up that day when you had too much to drink. Mind you, I was also drunk that day and neither of us used protection". She shrugged her shoulders, "That is how we ended up in this predicament. You can check CCTV footage if you are still questioning it. The love motel would've stored it".

A sharp hiss resounded through the room. All the members heard the sordid tale and stared at Jungkook in disdain. Their youngest member was used to getting his way and it wasn't out of character for him to suddenly find a girl he liked and on whim sleep with her. Y/N blinked quietly and then quietly stated, "I don't need anything from you except child support. We can negotiate it together between the two of us, or between your lawyer and me. The only extra thing I demand is a box of chocolate donuts , freshly baked bread, a tiramisu cake, and a pound of strawberry cheesecake from my favorite bakery delivered to my doorstep every month. In case you are wondering, yes, to clarify, this is part of the child support".

All the members' jaws collectively dropped in shock at what she had just said. Jungkook gritted his teeth, agonized at the prospect of dealing with this girl for the rest of his mortal life. She interrupted, "Oh right, first let's do a paternity test like how they do it in the movies. Just to be sure. So you know, that it is your baby. Granted, you are the first person I actually had sex with". Jungkook squinted his eyes, jaw locked in anger ," Are you telling me, that you have never had sex before? That you don't go around waiting to trap random idols in this manner?"

Y/N shrugged nonchalantly, "Believe what you will, dude. I have had sex before, but I have only taken things up my mouth and been eaten up like a three course meal", she winked shamelessly, "if you catch my drift". She continued, as Jungkook and the rest of the members were paralyzed at her bold statements, " The time with you was the first time I took it up my kitty cat. You were going to shove your lochness monster up my snuffleupagus also, but I had to stop you". Not believing all that he was hearing, Namjoon fell onto the couch stiffly, unmoving, eyes fixed on Y/N as though he were in a coma.

Jungkook had his hand on his forehead. This entire ordeal was a nightmare. What the fuck had he done to bring this upon himself? As his head floated towards the wall for support, Y/N quipped, "if you are going to hurt yourself by banging you head against the wall, just make sure to write the child support into your will. I don't want to get in between you and death, but where my bag is concerned, I unfortunately have to intervene".

She proceeded to twirl her hands in her hair as a worker came in and handed her a plate of tiramisu. She sat upright and start devouring it. In between bites, as she stuffed herself to death she uttered, "Just so you know, I love the color pink and can occupy myself with yarn and a sewing kit for hours. Wanted to give you an FYI in case you needed to take me on a trip or something".

Jungkook eyes filled with tiny flames , he seethed , "Why would anyone take you anywhere you bitch? Isn't already too much, the fact that I will be paying child support to your ugly over distended ass? Women get pregnant, but you look like a mammoth, not a mother to be". Y/N merely blinked, staring at him resolutely as she continued to eat simultaneously, "Well, I mean you fucked and put a baby into me, so you must have liked my over distended ugly ass at some point throughout the night right? That is why I am telling you, you tried to put it my ass. I just couldn't take it no matter how much I tried. You know what they say, the attempt is what matters, not the result. At least I tried".

The rest of the members started choking, trying to suppress their laughter as she continued , eating with gusto enough to make Jin's mouth water as he entered the room to see what the noise was about. She chomped on the tiramisu as though it were here last meal, getting coffee and cream all over her lips, "I can get a participation award for trying to take it up my ass right? Anyways, I found out you were in Korea because I keep seeing shorts on youtube about when you leave and enter the country. They always say amusing stuff like, Jungkook left Korea and later on, now he has safely landed, as though they thought you were going to die or something. Like, millions of people fly everyday, but you don't see articles like, so and so from Daejeon got on the flight and now is safely back".

Yoongi was trying so hard not to laugh. This girl might be idiotic and a thot, but she was hella funny. Like he was wheezing as though he had asthma right now. Jungkook got in front of y/N , ready to yeet her off the couch. Y/N sat there and stared up at him blankly, "just so you know, if you manhandle me, I will sue you for assault. If you know what is good for you, you won't put your beautiful vascular manicured hands on me. Don't underestimate a girl with an appetite and an indomitable spirit".

She got up gracefully , " You called me a bitch. Well I think you are a conniving kerfuffle who does not know how to keep his business clean. Everybody knows not to do hanky panky without a rubber, and you clearly did not care that night". She handed him a slip of paper, " Here is my number and address, when you need to send desserts to my house and call me for a meeting with your lawyer for the paternity test. Toodles! Talk to you later! I have a doctor's appointment to attend".

#comedy #pregnant reader #pregnant reader x jungkook #chubby reader x jungkook #eventual smut #jungkook x curvy reader #jungkook x plus size reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook smut #bts #bts x curvy reader #bts x pregnant #bts x pregnant reader #bts x chubby reader #body shaming

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kesouu · 8 months ago

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Blue Star☆｡⁠*✯ﾟ⁠+*⁠.✧

(⁠☆) Narumi Gen x Oc

(｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ CHAPTER 3 +ﾟ⁠*｡⁠)

(⁠｡⁠•̀✧) THIS ONE HAS SPOILERS FOR KAIJUU NO. 8 B-SIDE!!! (In case for people who didn't see my edit last chap, this story is 2 years before the main plot of the show!!)

7 years ago...

"So your saying...THE CAPTAIN OF THE STRONGEST DIVISION WANTS TO INVITE US TO THEIR BASE?! AS IN THE ARIAKE MARITME BASE?!" Hoshiko yells as they exit the hospital, Narumi who walked with her slapped a hand to her mouth "You sure are noisy for someone who was just discharged from the hospital." He complained as a car pulled up in front of them and a tall man exits the car "I am Eiji Hasegawa, First Division Platoon Leader. I'm here to escort the both of you to headquarters."

"Ha-Hasegawa-san...." Hoshiko mutters, her expression displaying pure awe at the person infront of them not minding how Narumi grabbed her arm and pulled her into the car with a scowl on his face. The drive to their destination was short but the boy still slept on Hoshiko's shoulder for the ride. Looking at him, she realized the bags under his eyes have grown darker 'I must have worried him...' the girl thought as she frowned at the thought of Narumi staying up late at night waiting for her to wake up from what the doctors mentioned was 3 days.

Hoshiko stood in awe once more as they got out of the car "It looks so mugh bigger in person!" She gushes at Narumi who rolls his eyes "It's what ever." He says while walking away leaving his friend to catch up. "Were going to run some tests on both of you just to see your unleased combat power, it's not normal for people to just randomly use carcasses that aren't adjusted as weapons" an operator explains to the two as they both laid down on a table as other operators set the devices need for the test.

"The boy's unleashed combat power...is 24 percent?!" Hasegawa explains as he looked at the numbers on the screen "The girl, too has quite the impressive number with 21 percent." The captain, Shinomiya, mentions as well "It would seem their aptitude for Kaijuu cells are remarkably high in general. Also we haven't officially confirmed this yet...but the boy is showing potential aptitude for weapon 1." Silence follows in the room as Hasegawa is the first to break it "Aptitude for a numbers weapon?!"

"It wouldn't be a stretch to call both of them abnormal. It's no wonder they managed to use an unadjusted uniorgan." Shinomiya states as Hasegawa looks at both the teens backgrounds that were in both his hands 'Gen Narumi. He has high academic and athletic marks, but he's been suspended from school multiple times due to misconduct. He lost his parents to a kaijuu cataclysm. Hoshiko Mitsuba, the same as Narumi, high academic and athletic marks but was the opposite of him in terms of conduct. She lost her parents to the incident 3 days ago.' Hasegawa read as he looked at both profiles 'no next of kin, huh?'

"Are we done here? We're busy and Hoshiko was ordered by the doctors to take it easy for a while. If that's all, were going home." Hoshiko nudged his side with her elbow at the disregard to officials "Gen that's rude!" She whispered but the boy payed no mind and brought out his hand-held console while linking his arm with Hoshiko. "You're going home, you say? The facility you were living in has been destroyed, and Mitsuba's house has been destroyed as well. You're two are going to live in the evacuation shelters now that Mitsuba has been discharged, aren't you?" Shinomiya questions Narumi as he replies uncaringly "We dont care where we go." Hoshiko could only sweat drop and stand beside Narumi awkwardly as he answered for her so she continued listening on "It"'s not like I've grown attached to any of the orphanages I've been in so far. All they ever did was pass me off to the next place."

"You've always survived by your own strength. That's what you said back there, correct?" Shinomiya pushed on in questioning "Yeah, I don't have any next of kin. None of my teachers or any of the folks at the orphanages have ever done a thing for me. Hoshiko has been the only one to step up, you guys are no different, right? What good does a test proving I'm abnormal do?" Narumi explained, eyes still trained on his console screen "Mitsuba and Narumi...was it? You two should join the defense force." Hoshiko's is left mouth agape and eyes wide at the proposal 'Captain Shinomiya himself is asking me and Gen to join the defense force?!' she though as Narumi finally lifted his eyes from his screen "Say what? The defense force? Us?" Narumi asks skeptically "That's right. Our objective is exterminate kaijuu. Both of your power will ine day be necessary to protect this nation." Silence flowed through the air as Shinomiya waited for Narumi and Hoshiko's response.

"You're just saying that you want to take advantage of us, aren't you?" Narumi replied with his eyes back onto his game "That all depends of the both of you. We accept anyone who shows skills and results. That's the sort of place the first division is." Hasegawa glances to Shinomiya as he though 'Captain Shinomiya seems to be putting a great deal of stock in these kids.' he stares down at the ground in with a face of frustration 'I suppose I'm no different. There's an air currently hanging over the defense force. Stagnation. Mr. Isao has served as the captain of the first division for a long time. Under normal circumstances it wouldn't be surprising for him to transfer to headquarters now that he’s physically past his prime. Vice captain Itami is in a similar boat, considering his skills and career. The reason is plain and simple. We lack an impeccable ace officer.’

‘Now that the captain of the second division, Hikari Shinomiya, once a shoo-in for taking over as captain of the first divison – has died... there is no one to serve as mr. Isao and vice captain Itami’s replacement. But... I sensed something immesurable from both these kids on that rainy day.’ Hasegawa thinks back to the sight of Narumi holding up the head of that kaijuu and Hoshiko finishing off both kaijuu that had attacked her home as he passed by. ‘Some may call it a hunch. “These two can make big changes in the defense force.” That’s what I told myself.’ Narumi looks up in thought and glances at Hoshiko with a smirk, the girl could only sigh and nod as Narumi answered for both yet again.

“So you’ll accept anyone so long as they show skills and results, eh? Sounds interesting.”

The two soon applied for the defense force entrance exam that year both passing with top marks in all parts, written and physical. Standing atop of corpse upon corpse were them as they personally killed for the second round of the exam that was live kaijuu neutralization. Narumi looks up to the drone assigned to him as he spoke “I’m going to see if what you said was true about the defense force.” He said smiling triumphantly while Hoshiko sweat dropped at what she got herself into, she may had no idea what to do after grad, but joining the defense force to follow the only thing she had left in the world was certainly not one of them.

-☆☆

#narumi gen x reader #kn8 #kn8 x reader #kaijuu no. 8 #gen narumi x reader #narumi gen #gen narumi

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cowboydisaster · 2 years ago

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The Fire In Your Eyes

part IX: horseshoe overlook v

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 6.1k

summary: Three days after watching Arthur fall, three days of grief, three days of regret, and it all comes crashing down on you in one bittersweet moment.

a/n: here we are fellas... a much awaited chapter, technically the second half of last chapter. Star waits three days at the bank of the river... and so I've made you wait three days too. I want to say a few things so if you're sticking around to read the notes buckle up. Firstly I could absolutely not have done this chapter without Margo (linked below). She literally held my hand through writing this lol, and offered me more support, kindness, and praise than I deserve. She gave me so many tips and ideas and suggestions for this and I'm just so proud of the way it turned out, thanks to her. This was a group effort for sure. Secondly, I'm still in shock from the level of support this series has been getting. Its just incredible to see how many people come back so consistently. Last but not least, I love you guys, really I do. And I can't wait to see what you guys have to say about this chapter.

beta read by @margowritesthings

warnings: nsfw, 18+, minors dni, violence

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

It's been three days, searching the banks, knowing that he won't be back, won't be coming home. You saw him hit the water, and he didn't come back up. A fall like that is barely survivable. You know he's gone and it isn't until you allow yourself to think it that you break. All that you should have told him, should have opened up about and you didn't. You didn't. And now Arthur will never know any of it.

Arthur is gone, and he left thinking that you didn’t want him. You hate yourself, for your inability to open up and you hate him for this whole job. You told him you didn’t feel right about it but no one listened. Now he's gone and you're so mad, so angry with the world and your heart and him.

It's pouring, thundering and lightning in the dark night and you've started to accept that he isn't coming back. In your head you know it, it's all you've thought about. You know he's gone, he's never returning to you, but your anger keeps you from returning to camp because what is the gang to you without Arthur? Can you really go back there and live with his ghost?

The rain pounds down on the top of your tent, falling down and drenching the ground. Lightning lights up the night, showcasing to you the dark, empty lake. John had come by a day ago, and when you realized he was alone your heart shattered all over again. It's a strange thing, you realize, to love someone but never have the courage to admit it until it's too late. Thinking back, you know you loved Arthur, it's obvious, but you couldn't admit it at the time. It took losing him to realize how much you need him. You don't know who you are, here now, without him. You belong nowhere, you have nothing, you want nothing other than him.

You think about going up north, up to West Elizabeth for a while, but you can't bring yourself to leave the shore just in case. You haven't eaten. You haven't slept. You've been sitting in this tent at night haunted by ghosts and regrets, and surveying the lake in the day, futile as it may be. You know you need to do something, to go somewhere other than this damn shore, but you're lost. Your head tells you to run, but your heart tells you to go back to those who care about you.

Arthur cared about you. And it's sick, and it's twisted but you're so mad at him for your feelings, so mad that he cared about you so much because it made losing him that much harder.

Lost in thought, you don't even hear the footsteps as they approach the tent, nor do you hear Balius's quiet nicker. The rain doesn't help, coming down along with thunder that shakes the ground. You don't even notice his presence until he speaks up.

"Star?"

Everything stops. Your eyes go wide, and immediately fill with tears at the familiar, gravelly voice that you haven't been able to get out of your head for three days. At first you're sure you're imagining it, losing your mind, until he speaks up again.

"Star? Y'in there?" He asks again, and too shocked and confused to speak, you crawl out of the tent. Your eyes land on him as you stand in the rain and you freeze, mouth agape. He looks… he looks fine. And you take a step back as the emotion of it all comes crashing down. At first you're shocked and confused, and then you're relieved… and then you're mad. Because you spent three days thinking he was dead, and he's standing in front of you washed up in a brand new outfit with a smile on his face. The rain soaks in your clothes, drenching you as you try to breathe.

"Where have you been?!" You cry out, full of emotion and fear and rage. Arthur sees it all playing out on your face, and his eyebrows draw together.

"What-" He begins but you interrupt him.

"Why are you walking up here like everythings just fine? Where were you?!" You half cry- half hiss, thinking of all the time you'd spent scanning the water, waiting for his body to wash up.

"Swam down the river and hid out for a couple days till the bounty hunters lost me." Arthur sighs like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "What's the matter wit you?"

Arthur isn't used to having someone to return to. No one asks or complains if Arthur comes back late from a job, he's never had anyone care so much as to worry for him like this- he's just not used to it.

You huff, a humorless, sarcastic laugh.

"So you were just hidin' out?" You ask as a loud boom of thunder shakes the ground.

"Yeah." Arthur huffs, irritated with your attitude. Your tone is angry, condescending and sarcastic as you continue on. Tears fill your eyes, but he can't see them in the dark.

"Well, I'm glad you've been safe all this time." You reach into your tent grabbing his hat before throwing it towards him angrily. "Here's your damn hat. Found it washed up in the river after you fell. Y'know, it would have been nice if you let me know- If you let me know you were just camping, taking a few days off while I've been here!" You yell, fighting back sobs, watching as he grips his soaked hat, growing more confused.

"Star- what is your problem?"

"It doesn't even matter." You toss your hands in the air, chuckling humorlessly. Your hair is soaked through, and Arthur glances to the sky as it lights up with bright white lightning.

"Clearly it does matter! Ain't my fault you can't express your damn feelings!" He yells, growing angry alongside you.

"Oh, that is rich coming from you. Like you can?!" You immediately bite back, voice growing louder as you step closer to him.

"Yeah! I can, with you! I told you about my past, about my son and my parents and Mary! And I know nothing- I know nothing about you- what you want, where you've been." Arthur yells louder than the thunder, pointing his finger in your face as he does so, "You won’t open up and it's killing you. God- what are you so afraid of?! What's holdin’ you back? It's eating at you and you won't just deal with it SO WHAT IN THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLE-"

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" You yell, stepping forward with your shoulders squared, meeting him with just as much aggression. You're so angry with him, for the train and for coming back like nothing happened. Your anger gets the better of you as you lean forward, hands pressed against his chest and you shove him backwards with all the fire you can muster, growling as you do. He stumbles backwards, eyebrows drawn together as you ball your fists, ready to scream at him, to berate him for leaving you out here. But at the thought, something in your heart cracks, and the fire and the rage pales in comparison to the fear of losing him.

A loud boom of lightning sounds out, and Arthur prepares for your inevitable verbal knives with his eyes cast on the ground, but you never throw them.

When he looks back up, your shoulders are rising up and down heavily, and your finger points at him like you're about to chastise him, but you don't. He watches as your shoulders slump slightly, and he sees the way your hand, pointed at him, falters. Glancing up to your eyes, he sees that you're fighting back tears, and biting down on your lip to stop it from trembling.

Exhausted, and terrified and hurting, you can't find it within you anymore to yell. In fact your voice is barely above a whisper as you meet his green eyes,

"I spent days thinking you were dead… Do you have any idea what that was like?"

Arthur sees the moment that you break. He watches as your face crumples, and he sees the pain that you've been going through. God, he didn't even think. He didn't even think. You crumple, erupting into quiet sobs as you hold your face in your hands. In two strides his arms are around you, and you sink into his touch, letting all of the pain and the grief be washed away by the rain.

"I'm so sorry, Star. Shit, I'm so sorry. I'm here. It's okay." He coos, protecting you from the rain with his warmth as you sob into his shirt, wrapping your arms around him to make sure he's really here.

"John had to pry me away from that bridge…" You choke out, "I thought you were dead and I can't- I can't lose you, please, please don't leave me-" You whimper, feeling more vulnerable than you ever have in your life, but knowing that you trust Arthur with every fiber of your being to be the one to piece you back together. At your words, Arthur's heart shatters, falling to the ground in fragmented pieces along with your own that had fallen apart three days ago. Even with the rain, lightning and the pitch black, he cups your cheeks, pulling your teary eyed gaze up to him.

"Look at me. You aren't alone- look at me, Star- I'm not going anywhere."

And looking into his eyes, seeing him here, you know it's a promise he intends to keep. He's in front of you, he's safe, and having him here is too much and not enough all at once. He's scanning your eyes, searching for something to signal that you're going to be okay, and that's when it happens. With his hands resting on your face, and his eyes searching yours, you lean up on your toes, and you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have in you, ignoring the storm and the pain in your heart. You thought you'd never have the chance to do this. And with him here in front of you, you need him to know that you want him too. You've repressed so much love and so much emotion, and now that he's here in front of you, you can't help but feel it all.

He's shocked at first, eyes open and lips slack until he catches up and leans back into you with just as much emotion. His eyes slip shut, and you curl your hands into his shirt, opening your mouth for him to gain entrance. Your tears slip down your cheeks, mixing in with your lips. It's hungry and raw and filled with the emotion of you terrified of losing him, and needing him in every way possible now that he's here.

You pull away to catch your breath, tears slipping down your cheeks as you look up to him, making sure once again he's still here. He smiles down at you, wiping your cheek with his thumb, smearing the rain and the tears away. And then you're pulling him back down to you, kissing him again with the same hunger, and he kisses you back. His hands grip onto your waist and he pulls you against him as your lips slot against each other. It's him who breaks the kiss this time, and he looks down to your eyes, his green irises searching yours and seeing the intention in your gaze.

"You sure you want this?" He asks you, rain soaking his hair and causing a piece to hang down in front of his face.

"Stop talking." You whisper, barely a breath as you run your fingers through his hair before leaning up to kiss him again. Your hands grip onto him, and you whimper into his mouth as his tongue mixes with yours. You need more, you need him. You need to know he's with you.

Arthur seems to read your mind, hands grabbing the underside of your thighs as he pulls you up against him, carrying you. Your legs wrap around his hips, and you only break the kiss momentarily as he carries you into the tent. He lays you down on the soft blankets, taking a moment to admire you laid before him in the lantern light. Then he lines your body, leaning over you on his forearms as the storm rages on outside. His lips are on you again, in the crook of your neck, kissing the spot where your pulse beats erratically. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist, and as he kisses you, his left hand unbuttons your shirt.

"You done this before?" Arthur asks, pressing messy kisses to your jawline. He remembers your conversation up in the Grizzlies, and he's almost certain this is new for you. You shake your head.

"No." You admit. You're no saint, but you've never trusted anyone enough to go this far, not before Arthur at least.

He exhales, nodding, but he seems hesitant, his hands slowing on your buttons. You grip either side of face, pulling his attention to you.

"I want it to be you. I need it to be you." You admit, whining as he groans, nodding. He leans back, sitting up in between your legs to shed his clothes. You help, pulling his shirt off of him quickly once the buttons are undone. He's left in just his jeans then, but you stop him from taking them off. You pull him down back over top of you, and he obliges, though a bit confused.

"Kiss me." You plead, and he does. He kisses your lips over and over again, he kisses your neck and your jaw and your forehead while you get used to everything. He wants to do right by you, he wants to do this your way.

You reach your hand down between your bodies as Arthur pops the last button to your shirt. You line your hand along the bulge in his jeans, and you press against it, eliciting a deep groan from Arthur. You smirk, popping the button of his jeans before slipping your hand inside. You wrap your hand around his shaft, feeling how much he wants you.

It's overwhelming, all the feelings he gives you. In every way. He's perfect. Warm and loving, and his tan skin is kissed with freckles all over and he's so beautiful it makes your heart ache.

"I'm ready, but I don't know- How do we do this?" You whisper against Arthur's ear. You're letting him take control, and he nods, kissing your lips softly.

"Let me take care of you, let me be strong for you." He whispers, pulling your shirt over your shoulders and kissing your collarbone until there is a mark. Then he leans down, pulling your dark jeans down over your legs by the waistband, leaving you fully exposed. Once your denims hit the discarded pile of clothes, Arthur leans back, smiling down at you. You can't find it within you to be self conscious, not with the way he's looking at you. You lean up on your elbows, watching him drink you in as he leans up to grip onto your hand.

"You're so beautiful…" He mumbles, eyes trailing up your figure lovingly. He squeezes your hand, and leans down to your right thigh where a messy scar lies, the gunshot wound from Blackwater. He kisses the scarred skin.

"N' so strong." He whispers, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. Leaning up to meet him, you crash your lips against his own, trying to shove his jeans down off his form. He chuckles, leaning back to shed the denim. Now both fully undressed, he stops, looking over you again. Your wet hair is sprawled out on the blankets, lips plump from where he's kissed them. He's sure you're the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"Arthur-" You whimper, pulling him back down to you by his hand. He takes his time warming you up. There's no rush, and you're so glad to just be together.

He places kisses down your chest, in between the valley of your breasts, and you chuckle, fingers intertwining into his hair as you pull him back up to your lips.

"Arthur?" You breathe out.

"Hmm?"

"Touch me." You plead, spreading your legs for Arthur. He smiles, running a finger down your thigh as he leans in to kiss your neck. You gasp, feeling his fingers brush against your core. He stops, groaning when he feels how wet you are, the sound cathartic. Then once you wrap your legs around his waist, he resumes his pace. His thumb gently rubs around the small bundle of nerves at your core, and you gasp, gripping onto his shoulders as he continues to kiss your neck. Then as his thumb continues, his middle finger stretches into your tight heat, and your nails dig even deeper into his shoulders.

"Please, just-" You beg, but he stops you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

"Sweetheart, I gotta take my time. I don't wanna hurt you." He says, and you nod, trusting him. He works his finger in you for a while, curling it up and coaxing little gasps from you. Then, he stretches a second finger into you, and you wince from the pull, but after a while of him working you, it starts to feel good. And shortly you're breathing quickly, ready.

"Perfect." Arthur whispers, sliding his fingers out of you while he presses a kiss to your forehead. His arms flex on either side of your head as he holds himself up, and your legs wrap around his waist as he lines himself up.

"You ready?"

"Yes, yes-" You mumble.

You feel the tip of his length against your entrance, and you spread your legs even further for him. And then he's sliding in, slowly. You gasp loudly, gripping onto him tightly as he thrusts in, slow as to not hurt you.

"S'it hurt? You okay?" Arthur asks, stilling as you toss your head back and pant.

"No- yes-?" You whimper, acclimating to the feeling. You nod, signaling him to continue as the thunder rumbles outside, not nearly as loud as your gasping breaths.

"Oh, Arthur-" You moan as he slides into the hilt, and bumps into your sweet spot. He slides back out partially, and then picks up a slow, steady rhythm. Your body arches beneath him, and you moan, pulling his face down to yours in search of his lips, tears coming in rivulets. He kisses you again, giving you butterflies as he thrusts in and out of you. You grant him access to your mouth then, and when he pulls away to breathe, still thrusting steadily, you whimper, tears running down your cheeks.

"Star?" Arthur asks, worried. And he stills his movements.

"No- don't stop." You beg, pulling his head down into your chest as he resumes his movements.

"I'm so glad you're okay Arthur." You cry, shaking against him as you hold his head against you.

His lips are on yours then, reminding you that he is here with you, safe, loving you.

"I'm right here, darlin'." He reassures, and you nod against him, biting your lip. You can't help the moans that you start to let out, timed with every one of Arthur's thrusts. He runs his thumb over your hard nipple, teasing it and giving you goosebumps. You don't have to worry about the noise, as there is no one to hear you but the raging storm outside. The power of the black clouds, bright lightning and pounding of rain pale in comparison to the crashing together of you and Arthur. Your moans seem to encourage Arthur, and he begins to thrust even harder into you, kissing you in between his movements. You can't keep your hands off of him, running them from his face, pulling his lips to yours or digging them into his shoulders as you gasp and moan.

He feels the same way, gripping your hips, kissing your breasts, and your lips and your neck it's almost too much. You feel yourself approaching an orgasm quickly, but you fight it, clamping down on yourself in an attempt to slow the process. You don't want this moment to end, you could stay here forever with him, and never have to worry about anything else. But your abdomen clenches and you feel your nerves begin to tingle. Arthur isn't oblivious to this, and he runs his thumb over your sensitive bud, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

"Star, let go." He whispers, lightly biting your earlobe. You shake your head, gripping his shoulders as tight as you can manage. .

"No." You argue, squinting your eyes shut and shaking your head, thighs clamping around him as you try to stop the inevitable.

"Darlin, let go. I told you, I'm not goin' anywhere." He whispers again, and you release, automatically setting off the intense waves of pleasure that crash down over you. You set Arthur over the edge, constricting around him and your moans fill the tent as you arch your back, pulling his lips down to yours. You moan into his mouth, hips rocking against his own as you climax, feeling so close to him and so intimate and vulnerable. You never knew it could be such a beautiful thing.

He begins to groan loudly in your ear, and you pull him down to you as you continue to rock and moan against him. Your grip on him tightens, and you're not sure whether or not he's planning on pulling out, but you don't want him to. You need him with you. Your legs wrap even tighter around him and he gets the message. A few stuttering breaths later and Arthur groans, grinding his hips against you as he finishes in you, lips pressing kisses to your own between heavy groans and breaths.

His forehead falls against yours, resting there as he catches his breath. You do too, still clinging to him in every way possible. After a few moments, he presses a slow kiss to your forehead, and then slides out of you. You wince from the pull, but once he lies down on the blankets beside you, he pulls you into the crook of his arm and covers you with the blanket. You rest your head on his chest, soothed by his heart beat after the past three days.

"You okay?" Arthur asks, running his hand up and down your back over the blanket. You nod, truthfully.

"I think I'm better than I've been in a long time." You admit. Arthur leans up on his elbow, grabbing your canteen from his side of the tent.

"Here." He offers you the water, and you take it willingly, sipping down some of the cool liquid before handing it back to him.

You cuddle down against his chest again, hand sprawled out on his stomach as he looks up at the ceiling, thinking.

"We gotta talk about this. Please, don't close up again, not now." Arthur says, worried that come morning you'll close yourself off again. You nod. Truly, you have no intention of hiding anymore, not after tonight. But for now you don't want to talk, you just want to be with him.

"In the morning?" You ask, tucking yourself into his side, yawning.

"Yeah, in the morning." He whispers, and you lean up, pressing one last, slow kiss to his lips. He chuckles as you toss your leg over his, formed tightly against him.

"Arthur?" You ask, not meeting his eyes.

"Hmm?" He asks, hand still running up and down your back while the other holds yours tightly.

"I'm so glad you're okay." You say again, a tear falling down your cheek and getting lost against his chest hair. You draw stars on his bare skin, distracting yourself as he wraps the blanket tighter around you both, protecting you from the thunder outside.

"I know, sweetheart. S'alright now, you just get some sleep."

Everything seems to make sense now, like it's finally fallen into place. You grip onto his hand, holding it as you start to drift off to sleep. You're his grief, his joy, everything he desires and loves. And you feel the same about him. You've denied yourself this for so long, that finally having it happened in one big collision. You wouldn't change it, lying here with him now. You know you have to talk about this, and you have to get Arthur back to camp, but it's all a problem for tomorrow. Right now it is about the two of you, just existing together for the first time.

— — — —

When you begin to wake up, it takes you a few moments to come to your surroundings. Your eyelashes flutter open, eyes squinting to block out the harsh sunlight that is filtering through the tent flap. There is a strong, steady warmth underneath you, and realizing your surroundings, you smile. Your head is laying on Arthur’s chest, legs still intertwined and hands still locked together under the blankets from the night before. Arthur's other hand runs soothingly up and down your bare back, and you prop your chin on his chest to look at him.

"How'd you sleep?" He asks, voice deep and groggy.

"Real good." You hum, telling the truth. You've slept in the same bed as Arthur on a handful of occasions, but you've never been able to do so as openly as now. You've never woken up so content before, even with the residual ache in your hips. It's a good ache, a reminder of where Arthur had touched you, binded his body to yours in the most intimate of ways.

"I'm sorry that I just… jumped you last night." You whisper with a chuckle, fingers running down Arthur's chest, tracing through the sandy blonde hair there.

"Do you regret it?" Arthur asks, looking down at you sprawled over his chest. Immediately, you shake your head.

"No. Not at all." You say truthfully. Even though the circumstances around your crashing together were less than ideal, you don't regret it even for a moment.

"Good." Arthur hums, smiling down at you.

It grows quiet for a while, comfortably so. You listen to the birds and the river, but mostly Arthur's steady breathing, and you realize that you could lie here with him forever. You thought you'd lost him, and now that he's here, you can't bring yourself to let go for fear that he will disappear again. At the thought, you realize that you've not discussed what happens now, and a question forms on your lips. Your hand is still intertwined with Arthur's, and you play with his fingers as you speak up.

"I reckon I already know the answer to this… but this was more than just sex right?" You ask, a little nervous. You're almost certain this is an emotional commitment, but your anxiety still prods at you. Arthur cracks a smile, bringing your wrist up to his lips before tenderly kissing the point where your pulse beats.

"Yes," He laces his fingers back with your own, "I'm all yours darlin', if you'll have me."

"Always." You whisper, ear pressed against his chest. The rhythmic pounding of his heart is a sound you can't get enough of as you slip your eyes closed, still reassuring yourself that he's here.

"We gotta head back soon," You sigh, "I know John is worried sick. I'm sure everyone else is too." You whisper, feeling a pang of guilt in your chest for keeping John in the dark while you'd kept Arthur to yourself all night.

"Just a few more minutes." Arthur counters, wrapping his arms around your waist. His thumb glides over your lower back, and you look up to see him lost in his head again.

"Why did you stay out here? Why didn't you go back to camp with the others?" Arthur asks, propping his hand under his head to look at you.

"How could I have left you? I didn't know if you were alive, I didn't think you were, god- that fall… but the thought of you hurt somewhere, or needing help, I couldn't just leave." You whisper, emotion bubbling up again at the thought of his fall. You don't bother to hide it anymore, even though your nature wants you to.

"I can't stop seeing it, Arthur. I've never been that scared in my life." You admit.

"It was a hell of a fall, I'll tell you that. Hurt like hell hittin' the water too. I didn't even know if I was alive, the water turned me around real bad and then I was on the shore of the Upper Montana River." He explains, eyes lost in the memory, "Hid out for a while and I heard the law whistles so I stole a horse n' ran to Strawberry. I was so worried about you… I didn't see you get away."

"Cause I didn't." You whisper, "John had to pull me away from the bridge. Athena carried me here and I sat in the grass the rest of the night just… waiting for you," You take a deep breath, a loose tear slipping down your cheek, "and then your hat washed up, and I was sure you weren't coming back."

You can't shake it. Every time you bring up the bridge it all comes rushing back.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't come back to you." Arthur hums, feeling terribly guilty as he sits up in the tent. You sit up next to him, pulling a blanket around your shoulders to cover your breasts.

"Well, you're here now." You whisper, teary eyes looking into his. He shakes his head, and you see the regret in his eyes.

"I shouldn't have called you a hypocrite. That was unfair of me." Arthur says, and your hand reaches up to his cheek, running through the thick stubble there.

"No, you were right. That's somethin' I've thought about a lot the past few days, somethin' I plan on workin' on." You say, "And, Arthur, I shouldn't have gone through your journal."

Arthur huffs, humorously.

"S'all you anyway." Arthur admits, and your eyebrows pull together, not understanding.

"My journal. It's all you." He reiterates and you smirk.

And then he's pulling you into his lap, unable to keep his hands off you now that he's able to touch you like this.

"We have to go." You chuckle as Arthur runs his thumb over the purple splotches on your collarbone. His lips are on your jawline in a heartbeat, pressing slow, languid kisses to it.

"They can wait." He whispers against your skin, thumbs gripping onto your bare hips as the blanket slips down from your shoulders. You lean into his kisses, loving the feeling of his lips on your skin, something you've denied yourself for so long.

Your stomach grumbles lightly, and Arthur slowly leans back, raising an eyebrow at you.

"You eaten anything?" He asks, and you sigh.

"No." You admit, sighing as he slides you down off of his lap.

"C'mon, let me make you breakfast."

"Didn't think you were the type; cookin' a girl breakfast the morning after." You chuckle as Arthur starts plucking your wet clothes up off the floor, tossing them in a useless heap.

"Yeah, well… only for you." Arthur huffs, grabbing your saddlebag from his side of the tent.

"You got any other clothes? These are drenched from the rain." Arthur asks, nodding to your outfit from last night. You nod, searching through the bag until you find a decent outfit. You grab a pair of black jeans and a white long sleeved shirt and you pair it with a tight black vest and a choker-style neckerchief, it's a damn cute outfit.

“Alright, go on and get breakfast ready, I’m starvin.” You joke, pulling your shirt over your arms and buttoning it from the bottom up. Arthur laughs, eyes lingering on you for a moment before he groans, getting himself dressed for the day.

He makes a little fire out front, and you smile, sitting at the entrance of the open tent as he prods and pokes at the smoldering logs with a stick. He puts on a little pot of coffee, and pulls a few cans from his satchel.

“It ain’t much, but it’s what we got.” Arthur says, stabbing his knife into the top of one of the cans and cutting away the seal. He hands it out to you then, and you smile at the label. Strawberries, another delicious treat that Arthur had stashed away in his bag.

“It’s perfect.” You hum, slipping your fingers into the can and pulling out one of the berries. Today proves to be the calm after the storm, and despite the rain that soaks into the ground, covering the grass in a mist, the day is beautiful. The sun shines brightly down onto you and Arthur, sipping your coffees and making quiet, comfortable conversation. One by one, eating the berries, you begin to feel replenished. Not having eaten for the past three days, too devastated to even move, you devour your whole can of strawberries, and then you pick at Arthur’s. It breaks his heart a little, seeing how you’ve deprived yourself of basic needs in his absence, but he says nothing. You squint your eyes shut, relishing in the warm bitterness of your coffee until you’ve drunk it all down.

“Thank you.” You say, placing the empty cup on the ground next to the empty cans, “For everything.”

“Course.” Arthur smiles, standing from the ground with a groan. He picks up the trash, and you raise an eyebrow at him as he tosses it into the woods. In just a matter of one night he’s managed to piece you back together, both physically and emotionally. It’s a debt you’ll owe him forever, though you know he’ll ask for nothing in return.

“Star?” Arthur asks, looking at the tent as you stand from it, packing up, “This John’s tent?” He asks, looking over the familiar dark camping kit, one that he’s pitched his own next to on many occasions while out working.

Your eyes go wide and you snort, remembering that John had left you his camping kit back when you’d told him you planned on staying by the river.

“Oh my god-” You say, horrified, “We’ll have to get him a new one.”

Arthur chuckles, amused as he brings the tent down and starts packing it up with the blankets.

“Nah, he won’t know.” Arthur brushes it off, snickering to himself.

“Arthur-” You chastise, jaw open slightly as he rolls everything up and ties it onto the back of Balius. Arthur says nothing, a smirk on his lips as he walks to the front of his scarred shire, petting his head.

“Missed ya, boy. I hope you took real good care of the lady while I was gone, I know you did.” Arthur whispers to his stallion, patting his neck a few times while pulling some mints from his saddle bag. He gives Balius one, and then looks back to you, blushing at the smile on your lips from his whispering.

“Ready?” He asks, gripping the horn of his saddle.

“As I’ll ever be.” You sigh, kicking dirt into the fire before mounting onto Athena, patting her in thanks for getting you across the river all those days ago.

You wonder what happens now. When you return to camp will Arthur showcase your newfound relationship?- If that's what you’re calling it, that is. You don’t know if things will slip back into their usual routine, or if this will change everything. You’re not ready for the gawking, hushed whispers of the girls, or the disapproving glare of Dutch. Though it's nonsensical, you feel that everyone will know what happened out here, and you feel terribly selfish for spending the night with Arthur when his own family didn’t even know he was alive. Still, you don’t regret it.

Trotting across the river back towards Horseshoe Overlook, back towards home, you glance up ahead. Arthur is in front of you leading the way, and you release a breath, letting all of the worry and the guilt fall from your shoulders and be lost in the river. Because no matter what faces you back at camp, he's with you now, by your side with no intentions of leaving. You'll face it together.

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know @rratman @eyelovie

#arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #no im not hiding that in the tags pfffft #arthur morgan smut

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boygiwrites · 10 months ago

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Harley D. Dixon 27

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📖Chapter List.

Author's Note.

Wow, you guys. I got carried away with this one. It's a biggun!!

Kick.

The soccer ball rebounds off the tyre.

Kick.

I pretend it's a walker head.

We haven't seen one of the dead in weeks, but I know they're out there.

Kick.

Buried in the snow.

Kick.

Just like everything else.

KICK.

It shoots off into the car yard.

I watch it bounce down the aisle of rotted vehicles, bumping up against the chain-link fence. A sigh escapes my chapped lips and blows away in the wind. For what must be the tenth time today, I pull my scarf up and trudge over to the ball.

Aside from day dreaming, this is about the only thing I can entertain myself with nowadays. I can't play so well without a partner, but the afternoons slog on otherwise. It was a couple weeks ago that people stopped wantin' to talk, or tell a story, or try their hand at makin' a joke, a couple weeks before those ones that Rick stopped talkin' altogether. I just don't think any of us have the energy. The only thing we can waste it on is breathing in and out and lighting the campfire every morning. Some days, like today, I even waste it on the ball.

Besides, we don't got anything interesting to say. There's only so many times you can comment on the weather.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, go my boots in the packed snow.

Thinking back on it, the last time I heard Rick say anything that weren't a barked order was the night we slept in an abandoned house. It was the first time since the farm fell that Dad had come back without any game on his shoulder. Carl had tried eatin' an old can of dog food for dinner. I still remember the way the brown meat exploded against the floor when Rick threw it, and we were scared then, too.

So, we went hungry — And almost every night since then, we've gone hungry.

I wonder if Dad's gonna try go huntin' again today, but I doubt it. Ain't worth it, no more.

It'll be a handful of burnt mushrooms for dinner again, tonight.

I bend and pick up the ball, dusting off the snow.

Some months ago, Rick told me that if he had to hear the word mushroom one more time, he'd go crazy. I almost smile to myself at the memory, the day we shared fruit and worked on the fence. If only he knew he'd be eating them every day; that he'd go crazy, anyway.

It was also the day we lost everything, is the souring thought that comes after, just like it always does.

Movement.

I look up, peering through the hexagonal webbing of the fence, out onto the street.

There it is. A white blob with a black marking.

Well, a dog.

A dog sniffs around one of the cars. I ain't seen a dog since before. I realize that for some reason I'd thought they'd all disappeared, and maybe they have, but not this one. He's a stubby little feller. Barely tall enough to see over the walls of snow, but he manages. His pink nose traces down the tyre, taking him underneath the rusted shell. I watch him cram himself through the gap with little effort.

My empty stomach rumbles to me that I should shoot it from here and we can roast it over a fire.

Is it okay to eat the thing that eats the dog food? Is is different from a squirrel?

When he wriggles back out, a dead mouse hangs from his teeth.

Oh. He caught somethin'.

Outta the corner of my eye, Dad approaches me, a sore frown below the brim of his beanie.

He makes a pincer gesture with both hands, shaking them slightly. 'What are you doing?'

I slap my thigh a few times, the sign for, 'Dog.'

When I point, he turns to look.

The dog clumsily gnaws at the skin holding the mouse meat together, letting the head plop onto the ground.

Dad tenses slightly, glancing out at the empty street; the trees beyond it. He thinks the dog might not be alone. Squirrels, possums. They don't got owners. They're too wild and nasty. But dogs do. We wait for a moment for someone to appear, but nobody does.

We're both thinking the same thing, but I'on think Dad will say it before I do.

'We should eat him,' I sign; the smart thing to do. We should eat him. But, 'I don't want to.'

He pauses. He don't want to, neither.

People are predictable like this. The world has up and ended, but we still pray before we eat, we remember our birthdays for no good reason, and we refuse to eat pets. All the bolts in Dad's bow and all the bullets in my pistol are stayin' right where they is.

Dad moves past me, undoing the gate latch and pilling it open, mutely snapping his fingers.

The dog's head snaps up.

Fresh blood paints its lopsided, gaping grin, dripping small jewels into the snow.

It considers the both of us, unsure if it wants to abandon its dinner. His head is droopy and egg shaped, undeniably ugly but in an adorable way, with two black dots for eyes and a chest like a body builder. Bull Terriers, I'm sure they're called. Rodent killers.

Stepping over the little pile of organs, the dog makes up its mind and trots over to us.

Dad kinda flinches when it places its nose in his outstretched hand, relaxing, letting it nuzzle at him.

Luckily, he ain't a human killer.

'It's okay,' He's concluded, guiding the dog inside and latching the gate closed.

I drop to my knees, giggling softly as I cradle the dog's big face, scratching behind his ears. Oh, he loves it. He must'a been lonely.

I mouth up at Dad, Keep him?

Food is scarce, and Lori is sick an' pregnant, but I still hope we can keep him. I'm already preparing a list of reasons we should.

'Everyone's decision,' He signs, before nodding us back the way we came.

Standing up, I follow behind him, and the dog makes sure he don't get left behind.

The garage stands firm in the onslaught of snow. We've made it a sort of home for now, but it's far from paradise. It's old. Small. It don't keep the wind out. Beth, Maggie, T, and Glenn are huddled around the campfire in a patch of melted sleet, the four of 'em the first to notice our return, and our new friend. They perk up at the sight of the dog, before breaking out in smiles.

Kneeling next to Glenn, I help him welcome the dog with pets and cuddles.

Rick's marching over to us before I can even wonder where he is, 'cause ain't nothin' happens without him knowing.

I expect him to be angry. He's always angry when it comes to mouths to feed.

But after exchanging some words with Dad over my head, he surprises me by nodding, stuffing his hands into his coat pockets, watching us. I think I must've got it mixed up, but nope, he sends me the slightest, weightiest of smiles and nods again.

A foreign sort of relief flushes through me at the realization that I don't gotta persuade him.

I'm happy, for free.

Grinning up at everyone, I bask in the wonderful sight of their silent chuckles.

Glenn makes finger guns and taps them together.

'Name?'

I glance down at the dog; give it a good think. If I were a weird little rodent killer, what would I want my name to be?

I know. Dusting off the end of my nose with my finger, I share my decision with the group.

'Mouse.'

I startle as the dog licks my knuckles.

Maggie pouts, mouthing the word, Cute.

'When I found him,' I sign, trying and failing to keep my hands clean of dog-slobber, 'He caught a mouse.'

'He's a hunter,' Dad agrees, approving.

I lead Mouse into the garage to meet the others, ducking under the shutter doors and shivering off the sting of the snow. I wish we could light another campfire in here to keep warm, but Rick says the smoke would kill us faster than the cold will.

Not that it mattered much to my hearing aids.

As it turns out, the cold kills batteries, too.

I've learnt to manage without 'em by now, but I miss it. There were even days where I could hear my own laugh.

At least when the thaw comes back around, I'll be able to use them again.

I step over the piles of blankets scattered across the concrete floor, mindful not to cross paths with any of them. I wouldn't be a very popular person if I trampled somebody's stuff. Any little thing will cause a fight nowadays. We're stacked on top of each other in here. Chickens in a slaughterhouse cage. I learnt that it's easy to lose yer temper here, even if we do love each other, when I woke up durin' the first night. Glenn was apparently muttering in his sleep, sum' about, No, please, this is all I have, before T-Dog shook him awake with a pair of angry hands, growling at him to, Shut the fuck up. Nobody slept after that, but nobody ever really sleeps.

Mouse sniffs around the many makeshift beds, his tail beating back and forth against his muscly legs.

I already know how to study somebody's face to see which side of them I'm getting that day. I did it with Merle all the time. I knew the exact angle of his brow when he was drunk, about to start plottin' murder and makin' loud phone calls to people that owed him whatever it was he got scammed outta that week, the exact angle when he was gettin' mad, when he was asleep, or high, or both.

It's a talent to read closed books. Living like this for so long, I ain't the only one good at it, no more.

'Hey,' I wave to Lori. She's sat against the wall, wrapped in blankets. Not angry today. Safe to talk. 'We found a dog.'

Her bleary eyes widen.

Mouse plods up to the table, where Herschel and Carl are sitting. It's like they think he's a baby polar bear at first, but they soon realize it's safe. He soaks up their attention before slipping through their legs and approaching us, expecting some from Lori, too.

Cautious not to lose her fingers, she sneaks a hand out from under her many layers, stroking Mouse's long snout.

A smile graces her pale lips.

'Where did you find him?', Herschel signs to me, his veiny hands moving fast and precise, 'cause he's the best outta all'us. It ain't all that fair, since I'm the deaf one and all, but this old man has known sign language longer than I've even been alive.

'At the fence.' I answer, watching Carl stand from his seat and join his Momma on the floor, reaching out to pet the dog with her. I stare at the top of his head, tryna remember the last time we spoke. When I look back up at Herschel, I add, 'I was playing.'

'Have you named him, yet?'

Nodding, I make the sign. 'Mouse.'

'Mister Mouse.' He chuckles heartily, reminding me of Santa Claus. It's dim in here from the total lack of windows, but I can still see the way his cheeks crinkle around a mellow smile. I can always count on Herschel to make me feel like there's bread baking in the other room and I can smell it and everything is going to be okay. 'I'm sure he would love to play with you sometime.'

I return his smile, suddenly craving warm bread. 'I hope so. Tyres are bad at soccer.'

'Goodness. I'm sure.'

Calling Mouse over with a few kissy sounds, the two of us duck back under the doors in search of the soccer ball.

'Hey. Watch this.'

'We're watching.'

At the thumbs up Glenn sends me, I turn, focusing on holding the soccer ball in front of me. One, two, three. I drop it onto the toe of my boot and give it a small kick. It flies. Mouse pounces on it like a cat with a ball of yarn, slipping and sending it rolling away.

We been practicing that move for ages.

Looking back at everyone, I notice that they're all clapping for us, cowering their faces into their poofy scarves.

'Did you see?', I ask, just to make sure.

Another thumbs up from Glenn. 'Very cool.'

It weren't very cool at all — In fact, it was total garbage — but it was fun putting on a show.

'Thanks.' As Mouse chases after the ball, I leave him be and return to the campfire. 'I'm so tired, now.'

I really shouldn't be. I'm only a kid, and kids are supposed to have a lot of energy. I'm sure of it, since our neighbour Betty used to complain to Dad about her boy havin' too much of it whenever the two of 'em smoked together on our porch after work. His eyes would droop like a slow-blinking frog's whenever he got back from the mechanic shop, sometimes sleeping for a whole day, even at the dining table, while he was halfway through a meal. All the adults I knew were tired, but not like this. We's starving; hollow.

I'm jealous of my past self, who used to be able to play soccer for hours on end.

Maggie sends me a sad smile. 'Me, too, honey.'

'Sorry,' Glenn signs to me, 'cause he always says that. 'Come rest. It's warm here.'

'Can I sit next to you?', I ask T-Dog, pointing to the empty seat between him and Glenn.

Like the others, there's two moon-shaped craters hanging below his eyes, bruised an ugly purple against the brown of his skin. The man sends me a deadpan look, as if the cold's gone to my brain. 'No,' Then, sassily; 'Of course you can.'

Rolling my eyes at his attitude, I sit down and lay my head against the canvas backing.

My bones have been replaced with rope, loose and heavy.

I know we're gonna be leaving soon.

That pensive look on Rick's face is easy to recognise, even if he tries hiding it behind his scarf as he stands watch.

According to the map, there ain't no drug stores or doctor's offices for nearly five miles around us, and we're gonna need one. The medicine, what little we'd scrounged up, has ran out. Lori ain't suffering anything worse than a sniffly nose and a cough, but out here, — In the snow and the wind and the rain, with nothin' but a flimsy bitta metal to shelter us from it all — Well, we all know. I asked Dad if the baby in her belly could get sick, too, and all he told me was that none of this is ideal. I understood. When things ain't ideal, people die.

That place Rick was talkin' about, the one that we can fortify and make a life for ourselves in, it's still out there somewhere. He lectures us about it so often it's as if he can't think about anything else, a dog with a bone dangling just in front of his nose.

I bet there's lots of food and medicine there. And even beds. Proper beds, with mattresses and everything.

Maybe even a little mat for Mouse.

Yeah. That would be ideal.

Nobody would die in a place like that.

I tear my gaze from Rick, turning it onto the one big cloud in the sky.

I still think about Shane, sometimes. It comes and goes. Most of the time, he's alive. We're sitting at the picnic table back on the farm, coloring a meadow of flowers together, and then there's an ebbing swash of time where something inside me hurts real bad like I've been shot, and then he's holding my hand in a forest because I'm scared. I'm showing him the frog I've caught, mirroring his grin.

Suddenly, none of the muscles in his face are working and he's looking at me with milky eyes.

I don't wanna shoot him.

Bringing my hand up to my locket, I squeeze the thousand-pound weight between my fingers.

The spot he's taken up in my brain was supposed to be mine, and so was Momma's, and Merle's, and everyone else's.

Even in death, as Andrea said, He's still a fucking asshole.

I wonder if she's still alive.

A girl went missing from our town, once. My Daddy was in the kitchen washing dishes while I watched her Momma cry on TV.

I didn't know Andrea too well, so all my tears are staying inside my face for now. It's not like it was with Sophia. No, we packed into our cars and we fucked off North to a place called Newnan, leaving everything, including her and any chance of finding her, behind.

A bit stupidly, I hope the cows made it out alright.

Then, a hand is waving over the sun.

Lifting my head, I realize it's Dad trying to get my attention.

'How are you?', he signs as I stuff the locket under my sweatshirt.

'Hungry. Tired.' The usual answer; then, 'Everything okay?'

'Yeah. Taking a break.'

'I think Rick wants to leave.'

As Dad eases himself onto the crate beside me, he sneaks a glance at him. 'He does. We were talking.'

The others must be reading our signs, 'cause Maggie butts in, talking with Dad for a minute. I wait 'til they're done.

'We need medicine,' I comment quite uselessly when his attention is back on me.

'That's right. And better shelter. This place is shitty.'

'Do you want to leave?'

'I want you to be safe and happy. So, yes.'

'Are we walking again?'

He makes a face. 'No. We're riding bicycles.'

'Funny, Dad.'

'He wants to head East. The next town is close. Nine miles. There's a hospital there. Might have medicine.' His hands slow down. They hover, unsure. When he picks one back up, he finger-spells the word, 'S-h-a-r-p-s-b-u-r-g.'

The blood in my neck rushes up into my cheeks, and for just a moment, I'm warm.

I wonder if her house still looks the same. With the gravel path leadin' up to the porch, lined with weeds before any of this even began. My bike chained to the wire fence, asking itself where the little girl that loves it has gone as it grows rustier every weekend that passes. The grass was always scratching my knees, wild and forgotten, a bit like me. We made the most of what we had.

I hope the mirror in her bedroom is broke. I hope the kitchen is rotted; loungeroom filthy.

It don't deserve to be the way it was before, 'cause ain't nothin' the way it was before. That was for us.

Dad is waiting for me to say something, but I got nothin'.

Being that close to that house again might just make me start believing' in ghosts, but we need to do it. For Lori.

'No choice.' I sign, plain and simple. 'We need to go.'

He studies me for a moment, torn on something, before nodding and rubbing his fist over his heart. 'Sorry.'

I shrug, playing with the pebbles of lint on my mittens.

I think about Momma, too. She weren't all that different from Shane, especially not in the end. Both were sick, but not in the way that Lori is sick, not with germs. Even now, I don't quite know if it'd be worse knowin' whether or not she turned and lost her mind one last time. At least in the picture in my locket, she ain't ever gonna turn. I'll keep her safe from everythin' outside her little bronze door.

'Forget about that.' Dad waves off the imaginary town, sneering. 'I'm going hunting. You coming?'

I hear that right? Hunting?

All the rabbits are hiding at the bottom of their burrows at this time of year, the squirrels either dead or holed away. Even my Dad, the best hunter and tracker I know, who can shoot a field mouse out a tree, ain't been able to catch nothin' in this weather.

'You tried,' I remind him. 'Many, many times.'

'I know. But,' He nods over his shoulder, where Mouse is rolling around in the snow. 'Now we have help.'

Mouse. Of course.

Our last chance at catchin' a proper meal.

He reminds me of Tank a lil' bit, but smaller, whiter; with all four legs.

I'm willing to give it a chance. 'Okay. I'll come.'

Since we started to catch onto the fact that the cold slows the walkers down, we all been allowed out more.

A pat on my knee. 'Good girl. Let's go.'

He asks Glenn if he wants to come as well, and 'cause he got nothin' better to do and we make a good team, he agrees.

I'm inside a giant snow globe, waiting for the glass to break.

It was about a month ago now that I woke up one morning with my head in my hands, holed up in a gas station, crying snot and tears and dribble 'cause the ringing in my ear had turned unbearable. I didn't believe Herschel at first. My hearing couldn't deteriorate. I didn't even know what that word meant. But no matter what words I did or didn't know, their voices kept getting foggier and the ringing kept getting louder, until one day there was a pop beside my brain, a burst of pain, and then the world went silent. And then I believed him.

I was scared, at first. How could I hear a walker comin', now? Would I never hear my Dad say, I love you, again?

But it didn't take long for us to learn enough sign language to talk to each other, I love you, included. Nothin' would've stopped us. Maggie found a little ASL guidebook with pictures in it while we were passin' through a library. Go, Be quiet, Hide, Run, were the first words Dad made sure I knew. Good morning, Goodnight, and all the other things I'd wanna say. Thank you. Have mine. Fuck off.

Even now, whenever I wake up during the night, I always find one person studying the book, pages cradled by a flashlight.

As the three of us follow after Mouse, snow drifts through the thicket of naked branches like ash, catching winks of sunlight before they kiss the ground. It's hard to feel like I've lost anything when it snows. It's one thing that's always been silent. So have ripples in water, or a smile on a loved one's lips. I've made a place for myself in the silence, and I fit well here. Nobody else is allowed in my snow globe.

Glenn squeezes my mittened hand as I'm watching the falling snow, pulling my gaze up to his face.

With his free hand, he signs, 'Ringing?'

I shrug one shoulder, pinching my fingers. 'A little.'

It never really goes away. It's the one last thing I can hear, but I tune it out.

He attempts a smile, the curve of his cheekbones a raw shade of pink. 'Sorry.'

I always feel guilty when I have to answer that question. I'on know why. It ain't my fault.

'You always say sorry.'

'Sorry.'

Holding back a smile of my own, a real one, I ignore him in favor of watching the snow again.

The memory of that morning we had on the roof of the RV swells in front of me now, pretty and sun-colored, a cherry on my tongue. It was the mornin' after we found out I wasn't dying. I had a life. I had a chance to live it just like everybody else. Equals. Whenever I look at Glenn, I remember that morning. Happy and alive, with a group of our own. A friend. The first one in a long, long time.

When it's just the three of us like this, I always feel like I'm betraying Merle. It's a slimy feeling, one I force myself to swallow it down each time, but I ain't done nothin' wrong. I ain't replaced him on purpose. If I lie, I can say I ain't replaced him at all.

The worst part about it is that Glenn fits better into the void Merle left behind than Merle himself ever did.

My thoughts are interrupted when Dad puts an arm out in front of us.

I jolt, following his gaze.

Ahead of us, Mouse furiously investigates along an invisible trail at the end of his nose. He, too, goes still all at once. He's found something. We watch him square up with a lump in the snow, his tail an exclamation mark. Then there's a rabbit, a bite, a struggle. I squeeze Glenn as snow goes flying. Dad lifts his crossbow. A single bolt is released, and the rabbit is pinned to the ground by its heart.

It twitches around the bolt once, twice, tryna run away like all rabbits do, and then it goes limp.

That's our first kill in weeks.

'Dinner!', I exclaim to Glenn with both my hands, as Dad moves to pluck the bolt out, shaking off the snow.

A long, fat rabbit.

Dad was right. Mouse done spoiled us. Him bein' such a great hunter must be how he's survived this long. Everybody's got a reason. Mine is that I have people who love me, both dead and alive, who have fought tooth and nail to protect me every day.

Dad slings the rabbit over his shoulder, gesturing onwards. 'Let's keep going.'

Taking Glenn's hand again, I have a thought. 'Is his name Rabbit, now?'

He shakes his head, no, both of us falling into step with Dad and Mouse. 'It's Mini Daryl.'

Pssh. Whatever. 'Bad name.'

'Great name.'

I point side-long at Dad, as if saying, Go on, then. Tell him.

He cringes. 'No, thanks.'

'See? Bad name.'

'Are you bullying me?'

'Yep.'

Unamused, Dad gives us a look. 'I'm not blind. I can see your hands.' A pause; glance. 'She's right. Bad name.'

Like I always do when I'm giggling around Dad and Glenn, I say a silent, Sorry, Merle, because he's always been inside my head.

By the time we're walking back through the car yard gate, Mouse has caught us three more rabbits.

Beth's jaw drops.

'Dinner!', I sign to her, grinning, turning to sign the same thing to T and Rick who are stood on watch, their eyes going wide when they notice the bounty. I duck under the shutters and sign it to everyone else huddled in the garage, too. 'Dinner! Come on!'

They follow me out to the campfire, not wasting any time skewerin' and roasting the rabbits as the sun begins setting.

'Well done,' Maggie signs to the three of us, thoroughly impressed.

Dad nods to Mouse, as if to say, Thank him.

Thanks, Mouse, Everyone obliges, and even though he don't understand Human, he still grins his silly, gummy grin. I take a seat next to Dad on the wooden pallet, basking in the delicious smell of bubbling fat and the sight of my smiling family.

The moon is waning over our heads like a pretty marble, passin' through the stars, as we slurp up our greasy, mouth-watering rabbit meat. Even Lori has come out of hiding to enjoy the meal, her thin body curled up next to Rick in the broken car seats, shivering as she nibbles a meaty thigh. There's a bump under her blankets, right on top of her belly, that makes it look a bit like she's hiding my soccer ball under there. Really, it's the baby. Some nights, she lets me put my cheek to it so I can feel the heartbeat from the outside. It freaked me out at first. It's like she swallowed an alien. There's a tiny human in there, separated by only a few layers of skin. I hope it likes rabbit.

I know she needed this. I think we're all relieved to see her eating a good meal after all this time, something fatty and heavy, something to fill out her caved-in cheeks. If we're gonna leave for Sharpsburg at some stage, she'll need the energy. We all will.

Carol says that if it don't come out early, the baby's gonna be born in Spring. I've always thought of the seasons as a clock for huntin', just like my Daddy does. Summer's when all the coyotes come out, and you can stay out late 'cause the sun don't go down 'til after dinnertime. In Fall, the migratory birds start to fly over Georgia to reach warmer places further South. I've always liked watching the V shapes glide across the sky, wishing I could grow a pair of wings and join 'em up there. Spring is baby season. When everything gets born again, from the grass under the mud to the leaves inside the trees to the baby deer, called calves, inside they Momma's bellies.

Babies are good at bein' born in Spring, I told Carol when I could see a tick of worry in her brow, especially after Carl brought up naming the baby Sophia again, You'd think they's dumb, since they's babies an' all, but they know.

I's talkin' outta my ass a lil' bit, 'cause I was a baby once and I was born in Summer, but it made her feel better.

And then there's Winter. Everything's dead in Winter, except for the things that know how to hide.

Swallowing a juicy bite of rabbit, I glance at Mouse.

He lays at my Dad's boots in the snow, both of 'em gnawing away at their scraps of meat like long-time buddies.

Sucking the meat off the warm bone in my hand, I click my fingers to get the dog's attention. He perks up, craning his neck to look at me, his eyes bulging as I toss the bone in his direction as thanks. He catches it midair, crushing it between his teeth.

When my gaze meets Dad's, he gives me a thumbs up and a questioning look. 'Tasty?'

I nod, my own greasy thumb glistening in the light of the fire as I give him one back.

His lip twitches upward, as if he's about to smile, but then he remembers something. 'We're talking about leaving.'

Looking around, I see the whole group deep in conversation as they eat.

'What they saying?'

'Glenn thinks we should stay. He goes to Sharpsburg with T-Dog and they come back with medicine.' He tells me. 'But we can't split up. Dangerous. Could get lost. And we can't stay here. Cold. Not secure. Both; too risky.'

'So we all go.'

He nods, with not much else to say. We all go. 'We leave tomorrow.'

I don't remember voting for that decision, but things ain't worked like that in a long time.

Nine miles. That would be nothin' if we were a flock of birds. Birds can fly twenty-five miles an hour, don'cha know. I know lots of animal facts like that one. Whenever I can't sleep, I try and see how many I can remember until I'm blinking myself awake and the sun is rising. But we ain't birds, and we ain't even got the cars no more. I'on know how fast humans walk, but I guess I'll find out.

Pushing away my thoughts, I sign, 'It's kinda funny. We're surrounded by cars and none of them work.'

'This place is shitty,' He says for a second time, agreeing.

As we make our way through the meal, Dad, Glenn, and T-Dog keep forcin' their food into my hands. They act as if they can't see my signs telling them to save it for themselves, 'cause they're a bunch of assholes. I give up on changing their minds after a while, 'cause I've learnt it never works. Rick and Maggie do the same to Carl, Lori, and Herschel. We're all just a bunch of assholes who love each other.

That night, it's the same routine. Pull down the shutter doors. Tie a shirt through the padlock loop. Switch on the lamps.

I get comfortable in my pile of blankets that I share with Dad, digging through our bag. Wind rattles the garage walls, bullets of rain and hail battering the thin metal. For once, the rumbling of my stomach ain't here to join 'em. I pull out my journal and pencil, starting my ritual of shaving the wood away from the lead using Merle's knife, dwindling it down to the size of a used cigarette. Blowing the dust off, I sheathe my blade and flip to a page I can write on. Ain't no blank ones left, but I can squeeze what I wanna say into the gaps.

As everyone lays down, they keep clutching at their bellies like Lori does all the time, stuffed full of dinner.

Hello, diry, I write, 'cause Lori taught me how, Today was a grat day.

Mouse comes and inspects our blankets before plopping himself down next to me, resting his chin on his paws.

We faund a dog. I named him Mows becoz he kils mise and he is cyut. He caut for rabbits for us. He is my frend.

Dad lays down on my other side, giving my arm a squeeze and closing his eyes.

We are leeving again tomoro. Dad spelt it, Sharpsburg. My Muma uset to live ther but she is ded now. I wont to leev but also I dont. Im a bit scered. Dont tell nobode. At leest we are leeving the car yard befor it gets the chans to kil one of us.

As olways, Rest in peece, M, T, A, M, O, S, S, J, J, P.

I snap the book shut and place it back into the bag, zipping it up and rolling onto my back.

Dad throws a blanket over me as the wind blows in through the slash in the wall, pulling me into him with a strong arm.

Somebody clicks off the last lamp.

Squirrels can jump ten times their body length, I think to myself, focusing on the beat of Dad's heart and the warm weight of Mouse slumped against my legs, before I'm opening my eyes again and there's a band of cool sunlight on my face.

I watch a bird fly past the gap.

We never stay in one place for long.

I hover near the gate along with the rest of the group, clutching the straps of my backpack.

Lori got worse overnight.

I'm looking at her right now, as Rick peels off his coat and wraps it around her. Her face; it's paler than the snow, her nostrils two rings of puffy, red skin, leaking snot onto her lip. She wipes it away, fingers shaking. I almost want to tell Rick to call this whole thing off, but that would be stupid. The sky's cleared up some, making way for the sun. If we don't go now, we'll be stuck here forever.

Threading the last button through the loop, Rick turns and rallies all of us to follow him outta the car yard.

We file out into the open, a trail of footsteps carving a line through the snow.

Rick takes up the front of the line. Dad, the back. When wolves travel in packs, the two strongest of the group do this, too. This way, one can flatten the terrain for everyone else, while the other can keep an eye out, make sure nobody falls behind. That's why I'm in the middle, trailing behind Lori, Carl, and Herschel. We're the smallest and the weakest and the sickest, but I can still trace the treeline with my gaze and watch for danger, grabbing for the hilt of my knife every time a shrub shivers in the wind.

Mouse walks alongside us as we journey, 'cause I think he's decided he doesn't wanna be alone, anymore.

With every step I take, I find myself missing Dad's truck more and more. I know it was just a hunk of old, blue metal on two pairs of wheels, but it's still gone, and I still miss it like I'd miss a person. It's true that it'd been through its fair share of bumpy rides through the forest and countless tyre changes, but ain't nothin' short of an army tank would'a made it outta what happened to it in the end. They came out of nowhere, is how T tells it. We were cruising along the streets of a small town when a group of people jumped us. Way I tell it, they came out from behind some cars that were spilled out across the sidewalks. A gunshot. We veered, straight into the window of a store.

Dad and Rick killed those ones, too. Four people; two men, a woman, and a sorta-kid — A teenager.

I remember the boy's face. Caramel-colored with a nose that looked like a bird's beak, maybe a few years older than my cousin, Tobias, but people always said he had a baby's face. I couldn't figure out if they deserved it. They'd tried to rob us, a small group with two kids and a pregnant woman; our medicine, blankets, water. But back in the beginning, Dad and Merle did the same thing to other groups. Lone cars on the highway, pairs of people as they walked, sleeping camps. It was awful, but it was how we stayed alive.

There was this one night that Dad asked Merle if they should stop while he thought I was asleep.

We're doin' it for her, was all my Uncle had to say.

Every bad person I ever met probably had somebody they was doin' it for.

Their blood pooled onto the tarmac as our blue truck smoked, wedged between a scattering of debris and rubble. The men tried pushing it free for over an hour, but it was stuck there, well and truly. Eventually, we accepted we had to leave it behind.

After that, Rick's truck shut off one afternoon and refused to turn back on no matter what Glenn did to it.

We couldn't all fit into the grey car, or onto the back of Dad's motorbike, so that's how we were left with nothing.

Still, Dad swears up and down he's gonna go back for his bike as soon as he can, soon as we're settled someplace proper. He hid it real good and took the cylinder head with him, so there's a very good chance ain't nobody nabbing it before he can get back there. My Dad's a smartass like that. I think he'd sooner pull all his teeth out 'fore he lets somebody else have his precious bike.

On a little street sign just ahead of us that reads, Poplar, a tiny bird perches.

It chirps and flies off when we get close.

Poplar Street. Two miles down.

Herschel looks at me over his shoulder, his brows made even fluffier than usual by the snow that's gathered on them.

'Doing well?', He asks.

I nod, yes. My feet are achin', but I'm sure I ain't the only one. 'You? I have water if you need.'

'That's okay, sweetie. I'm not thirsty.'

I give him a bit of a stern look, one that Rick would be proud of, but he just turns to face forward again.

Hmph. I'm suddenly appreciating how the others must feel when I refuse their food.

Glancing behind me, I extend the offer to Carl and Lori. When they accept — Well. When Carl accepts and forces Lori to do the same, — Dad alerts Rick, and guides us off the road, into a little eating area beside a kiosk station to take a break. I drop my backpack onto the seat of a wooden table and pull out my bottle of water. Lori and Carl sit down as I unscrew the cap and hand it to them, waiting for Carl to take a small sip first, holding it to his Momma's cracked lips after. Her neck gulps twice before he passes it back to me.

Most everyone else settles down at the other tables, catching their breaths.

Dad approaches the three of us. He points at the bottle with a no-nonsense expression. 'Drink that.'

I'm about to stash it, but do as he says. I am a little thirsty.

'How are you?'

'I'm okay.' I zip the empty bottle away. 'My feet hurt.'

'You can handle it.'

I nod. I can. 'You?'

'Feet hurt.'

'You can handle it.'

He huffs a chuckle. 'Don't be smart. I'm going to check the—.'

I follow his gesture over to the kiosk, nodding and taking the seat next to Carl.

The boy glances at me a couple times, as if it's hard to look at me, like how it's hard to look at the sun for too long before you start seein' shapes. He awkwardly points at my bag. Huh? He touches his fingers to his freckled chin, swiping forwards.

'Thank you.'

He knows how to sign?

All this time, I ain't seen him pick up the guidebook even once.

I ain't sure what to say, so I just nod until he looks away again, and then we're both just watching Mouse sniff the ground.

Boy, do the two of us know how to hold a grudge. Ever since our squabble that afternoon before Dale died, we been holdin' so tight onto 'em we ain't even know what to do with 'em anymore. You're a stupid baby, Harley. I hate your guts, Carl. I'm glad you're not my sister. I'm glad you ain't my brother. Stupid. That was months ago, now, and I might still be a stupid baby — I'll give him that — but I don't hate his guts. I just hate sayin' sorry. My teachers used to say bein' able to apologise is a life skill, but I never saw how it keeps ya alive.

Mustering up the courage to give it a go anyway, I sign to him, 'Back on the farm. I was just—.'

Wait. He's looking at me all confused. He don't understand.

I deflate, embarrassed. Never mind.

'Are you okay?', Beth signs to me from the other table.

'Yeah... My feet hurt.'

'Mine, too.' She sighs wistfully, her blonde hair flying around in the wind. 'We need a massage.'

It forces a giggle outta me. She makes me feel like such a girl, sometimes.

When Dad comes back, T-Dog in tow, it doesn't look like they found much in the way of food or water — Just what looks like a crumpled granola bar and a couple newspapers that we could prolly use to make a fire. Mysterious Infection Hits France, is one of their headlines, not even worthy of a bold font. Dad stuffs the little bar into Lori's coat pocket before he helps her stand from the bench, gently passing her off to Rick. He runs a hand up and down his wife's back, murmuring to her as I sling my backpack on and get to my feet.

I'm okay, I think she's assuring him, trying to brush him off.

Maggie shares a worried glance with Carol, then with Dad.

Before I know it, I'm walking over Rick's footprints again.

There's the river.

I saw it on the map, but it's bigger in person. It's not just a white strip of ink bent around laddering terrain lines. It's a flat, blue sheet of ice wedged between two frozen shorelines, snow scuffing over its surface as the wind pushes it around.

Like I said, I saw it on the map. That's why I know the only road that passes over it is miles away.

We're gonna have to cross it on foot.

'We need to be careful,' Rick turns to address us. He makes sure to sign as he speaks, very obviously struggling to match the volume of the wind. 'I'll go first. Make sure it's safe. Then, Harley, Lori, Carl, and Herschel. Then, the rest.'

There's no option for any of us to dispute the plan, so he goes ahead and nods to himself, sighing and turning toward the thick bank of snow. This is what Rick does. He risks his life, risks falling into rivers and freezing to death, 'cause he's got a few screws lose and he's brave, and some months ago, on the side of the road after our home burnt down, he told us, This isn't a democracy, anymore. I grab onto Dad's hand, squeezing it like a stress ball at the doctor's office before they stick the needle in ya arm, as our leader surfs down the hill.

Fringes of snow break off and roll down as he goes, eventually landing at the bottom.

Okay, I think I can see him mouthing to himself, Okay.

He takes his first step. He holds his arms out on either side of himself. Another step. Another; delicate, as if he's testing out whether or not he's gonna burn his feet, learning he won't, and then doing it all over again with the other foot.

When he reaches the other side, he pulls himself up onto the shelf of snow.

He plops onto his ass.

He made it.

When he realizes this, he raises his hand and waves us over.

I take a deep breath.

Harley, Lori, Carl, and Herschel, is what he said. Harley. I'm next.

'Go slow,' Dad signs to me, looking at me in a very serious way. 'Don't walk exactly where Rick walked. It could break.'

I nod, repeating his instructions in my head as I let go of his hand, forcing myself to approach the ledge.

Sitting down and sliding all the way to the bottom, I push myself to my feet, staring out onto the ice.

Oh, shit.

I swear it ain't look this far from up there.

'It's okay,' Rick's signing to me from across the river. 'You're light. You won't fall.'

'You promise?'

'I promise.'

Okay. Okay, I can do this.

I take my first step. Shit, it's slippery. I almost lose my balance, catching it right at the last moment. My gaze snaps back up to Rick. It's okay, He signs again. I look over my shoulder, where up on the hill, Dad signs the same thing. It's okay. It's like a tight rope. Taking care to mind the puddles of sleet sitting on the ice, I walk the rope one step at a time, water rushing underneath my boots.

When I'm close enough, Rick braces himself on one leg and reaches down for me, hooking his hands under my armpits. He lifts me onto the shelf of snow, setting me down beside him. I clutch his arms, my legs shaking. Oh, solid ground. It's never felt better.

Well done, He mouths, giving both my shoulders a firm squeeze before letting go.

Looking back at the other shoreline, I see a small Glenn and Maggie both sending me thumbs' ups.

'Proud of you, baby,' Dad is signing beside them, as Carol cups her own cheeks, relieved.

'I made it,' I reply, heart pounding.

'Yeah, you did. With sore feet, too.'

I wish I could let out a laugh, but I can't. Not yet.

Lori is next.

Lori, sick and frail, with the baby in her belly.

T-Dog slides down first and catches her when she reaches the bottom, holding her hands to steady her. She carefully steps onto the ice, alone. Her fingers leave T-Dog's. She's so skinny these days, I'm worried the wind might just knock her over. I feel Rick tense against me. Slowly, and cradling her belly, she ventures further out. There's a moment or two I think she might trip, but she makes it.

Rick pulls her up, and then it's Carl's turn; then Herschel's.

The four of us help the old man climb up onto the bank. The worst of it is over.

We wait for everybody else to cross. Glenn and Maggie set out next, keeping a good distance between them the whole way, before Beth makes her way down behind them, doing the same. Everyone calls out encouragement and praise, egging them on. One by one, we work together to pull them up. Glenn. Then, Maggie. Beth, who's shaking like a little lamb. And Mouse, who don't even need our help.

As Rick and Maggie pull Beth up, the last ones to begin their crossing are Dad, T-Dog, and Carol.

They're halfway across when Mouse starts barking.

A head appears over the hill behind them. Shoulders. A fleshy ribcage. It's a walker. An actual walker. It don't know where its goin', blindly trudging forward, skirting the ledge. It's gonna fall down. Everyone realizes this at the same time, suddenly pointing and shouting things. The three of them stop in their tracks. They turn to look behind them, just as the thing takes its next and final step. With no more ground to stand on, it falls head-first into the slope, tumbling, once, twice. It smacks into the ice, a cannon ball of limbs.

A line as thin as a hair shoots out from under its body.

A crack. The ice is cracking.

My body lurches as if I'm about to do something, about to climb down there and help, but we can't.

The only way we can help them is by staying off the ice.

The line grows longer and longer. It's under Dad's boot before he can even take a step. His chest heaves, staring down at it. Carol and T-Dog linger nearby, terrified, as if any flinch or gasp from them will send them all under. He pulls his crossbow off his shoulder. I'm not sure if he's about to shoot the walker, or maybe ditch the bow to lessen his bodyweight, but he don't get to do either.

His leg goes straight through the ice.

He falls onto his forearms. His weight splits the line into three; snaps the surface into pieces.

SPLASH.

Both he and Carol are suddenly neck-deep in the water.

I think I squeal a little bit, 'cause I feel it in my throat.

The walker lifts its head.

T-Dog looks back at us, shouting and holding his hand out. He wants something. Rick catches his meanin', unholstering his pistol and rearing it back, hurling it as far as he can over the river. T-Dog told us he used to be the best player on his baseball team in high school, so he catches it with one hand, pulling the slide back to check the chamber. I guess we can stop callin' him a liar, now.

The walker drags itself forward, clawing marks into the ice.

Dad reaches under the water, teeth bared, face scrunched, hauling his crossbow out and slinging it across the ice.

It spins across the slippery surface, coming to an eventual stop someplace that don't matter anybody.

T-Dog raises the gun.

He pulls the trigger.

There's a flash of light, and at the same time, a spurt of black blood.

As soon as the walker is dead, he takes a step toward, but Dad shouts at him and he stops.

Water goes flying as he grabs for purchase, setting his elbow on the ice. He puts his weight on it. The ice crumbles like a cookie. He tries again, this time keeping his body as flat as he can, and manages to pull himself up onto his stomach.

I can only imagine how much it hurts, but he pushes through it, army-crawling over to Carol.

They lock hands.

With what little strength he has left, he drags her out, too, letting her collapse beside him.

They both lay there, the wind blowing over their bodies as they struggle to suck in a full breath, curled up like shrimps.

T-Dog wastes no time. He teeters and slips around on the sleet as he kneels, grabbing a fistful of their coats and pulling them further away from the broken ice. They're not moving. It's like they've turned into the frozen walkers, their joints all locked up from the cold, unable to hinge. T-Dog gets Carol to her feet first. As Rick, Glenn, and Maggie hurry down to the shoreline, I follow after them and grab onto Carol the moment she's within arm's reach. We all help pull her up, as T-Dog spins around, waddling back to Dad.

Carol's legs give out. Her body lands in the snow, her arms wrapping around her stomach.

Over her hip, I watch as T-Dog, strong as an ox, gets all one-hundred-and-ninety pounds of my Dad to his feet.

When they reach the bank, we all grab for him.

Even through the layers of fabric, I can feel the deadly cold seeped all the way through his skin. As we lay him in the snow, he winces, his hair frozen stiff and his cheekbones redder'un cherry popsicles. I cup them with my mittened hands, crouching at his side.

I'm grateful I can't hear any of the panicking around me.

I just hold him, waiting for him to open his eyes.

When he does, they're blue, like the river.

Then, Rick and Glenn are pulling him up. I give them space, letting 'em hook each of his arms around their shoulders. Maggie and Beth follow suit and with Carol, hugging their arms around her waist, frantically looking for direction from our leader. He points. We all follow his finger. There's a couple tiny buildings just up the road, not too far. That's where we're going. We need to get Dad and Carol warm. We start making our way over there without a second thought, bracing ourselves against the snow coming down on us, now.

We reach the yellow security barriers. Carl helps me force them upwards, letting everybody through. It looks like this place was a ticket and security checkpoint. There's two little booths, the windows smeared with old blood, and a bigger building in the middle. Rick kicks that one's door in, making way for us to spill inside the kitchen-sized room, as they set Dad down on a dirty bed in the corner.

The two girls gently lower Carol down next to him, helping her peel off her wet clothes.

Taking Dad's coat zipper in my fingers, I rip it all the way down and pull him out of it, quickly doing the same with his shirt.

Rick casts about. He spots a wastebin in the corner of the room and moves it to the middle, taking the newspapers that T-Dog is offering him from his backpack. Glenn passes him a lighter as he stuffs it down. Flick, flick. He cups it; holds it there.

It catches.

—hould be contained within a week, according to the French Health Ambas—, it reads, before curling around the flame.

As warmth begins to emanate, I move down to Dad's boots, unlacing them, tossing them away with his socks. He's left in just his jeans, with barely enough energy to hold his hands out to the steadily burning pages of the Washington Post.

Taking off my own coat and cuddling up to his side, I hope I can give him some of my body heat. I don't have much of it, but I don't need it all. I'm happy to share it. Already, he looks a little less awful just by being outta the wind. Carol has been stripped down to her bra and cargo pants, shivering as Maggie fits her into a spare sweatshirt. Pulling my beanie off, I fit it onto Dad's head. He looks silly. Shirtless with his edgy tattoos on display, wearing his daughter's pink hat. When Maggie passes me another sweatshirt, I help dress him in that, too.

As I work, T-Dog approaches us, setting the crossbow against the wall.

A pearl of water drips off the end of Dad's nose as the man leaves.

I study him, feeling guilty. 'I wanted to help.'

He frowns at me.

I add nothing more. There was nothing any of us could do, but I still wanted him to know.

Everyone finally settles around the tiny fire, absorbing every last ounce of heat it has to offer.

Rick signs to me, 'We can stay the night.'

'Thank you,' I nod.

As he moves his attention elsewhere, I sneak a glance at Lori.

She's coughing. A yellow glob falls into her hand, before she wipes it on some newspaper. I know that ain't good.

We stay like this for a while. The only way to tell that time is passing at all is every minute or so, when someone adds a fresh wad of newspaper to the fire to keep it alight. Paper burns fast, but it also creates a lotta smoke. We eventually have to open all the windows to let it out, which in turn lets the cold in, but our only other choice is to suffocate to death. Ain't nobody in the mood for that.

Once Dad and Carol have both fallen asleep, I take out the little ASL handbook from my bag, scooting back to sit against the wall. I might as well get some studyin' in, if we ain't leaving for a while. I rest it in the crook of my thighs, flipping to a dog-eared page.

To sign, IMAGINATION, it reads, Start by extending both pinkies.

The little hands in the picture look like they's holdin' invisible teacups, so copy them, and it's easy enough.

To sign, OPINION, the picture directly below it reads, Start by creating a circle shape with one hand.

A kick to the bed frame.

Startled, I look up at the attacker.

It's Carl.

He points to the empty spot next to me. I ain't got any real reason to decline, so I give a nod, making a little extra room for him as he settles down at my side, only to do nothin' but fiddle with his fingers in his lap. I can't ask him what he wants.

Suddenly, he takes the book from me, thumbing through the alphabetical section.

He stops when he reaches S, studying the first picture on the page.

To sign, SORRY, it reads, Start by forming a fist.

My eyes go wide, watching the boy do as it says. Place it over your heart, making a grinding motion. He glances at me, silently asking if he's doing it right. He's not, obviously. You ain't s'posed to leave a bruise. But I get the message loud and clear all the same. He's sorry. Maybe for calling me a stupid baby, or for telling me that even though I know what a chantrelle mushroom is and I can shoot a gun, I still ain't worth nothin' without somebody else around to watch out for me; him around. Or maybe just for what happened at the river.

Before I can decide which one it is, he gets to flippin' again, finding what he wants at E.

He blanches. Got more than he bargained for with this one.

Still, he gives it a go.

It's slightly wrong again, but there's only one sign I know that looks like that.

'Everything.'

He stares at me, boyishly unsure, not looking very much like his Dad anymore like he wishes he did.

You don't need to be sorry, I'd sign to him if he could understand, You were right. I do need help, sometimes.

'Me, too,' I sign instead, reaching over and flipping to the page with the same phrase, and signing it again.

He glances from my hands, to the page, back to my hands again. I'm sorry, too. I think that's all we need to say, but I'll still add this last bit on, anyway. Word by word, I use the book to translate. It's obvious we could use my diary and pencil to write messages to each other. It'd be easier, but easier don't feel right. Anybody can do that. It's only the special ones that will learn your language.

When the sentence is complete, I rest my hands in my lap, watching his face for a reaction.

'You're my brother.'

He's stunned for a moment, and it's a long moment.

But then there's a tiny smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Carl is my big brother, and that's just the way things is. It ain't my fault we're in this little family together, that we've seen people die together, been scared and hurt together, that he let me cry on his shoulder one night and never mentioned it again.

He consults the book one last time before lookin' me in the eye, signing back, 'You're my sister.'

Always have been.

When I jokingly flip to the page that reads, To sign, I LOVE YOU, he snaps the book closed. A genuinely disgusted expression plagues his face, looking like he's just eaten rotten broccoli. It makes me forget all about how cold I am as he gets up and walks away.

It's nighttime when I open my eyes.

Lifting my cheek from Dad's shoulder, a yawn parts my lips. The sight of the moon peeking over the windowsill greets me, glass pulsing a faint orange as the fire in the wastebin burns nearby. I can see Rick out there, hugging himself next to a little light.

Scooting off the mattress, the guidebook falls from my lap.

I pull on my socks and boots. I don't think I'll be able to get back to sleep, anyway.

I remember in the Winter, when it was time to get dressed for school and work, Dad used to lay our clothes over the electric heater that we always had plugged into our living room wall. We'd make a game of it, pretending we were cooking steaks over a grill while the sky turned from black to grey, to white, to blue. His boss at the mechanic's shop had him startin' his shifts at six in the morning, while Merle and everyone else in our trailer park was still asleep in their beds. It was unfair, but he always found ways to make sure I never found out.

Grabbing a stick of newspaper, I stand and tip-toe my way through everyone sleeping on the floor.

When I open the door, I shoulder myself into the cold and step out.

It closes behind me.

In the middle of the outstretched road, Rick sits with his back to everything, staring up at the stars.

I wonder if he's got a person up there, just like I do.

As I come to sit beside him, he lowers his gaze; regards me with an empty sort of look.

I don't mind it none, instead opting to study the creative setup in front of us. A metal cooking pot filled with damp sticks, a small flame flickering amongst the ash and dirt at the bottom. I take the paper in my lap and ball some up, tucking it into the pot.

'I thought you might be cold,' I explain as the flames grab onto it, growing larger. 'Your fire sucked.'

He doesn't smile; lips heavy, downturned.

I sign something else. 'Why are you out here?'

'Can't sleep.'

Well, I guessed that. 'Are you okay?'

A sigh leaves his body, sucked into the wind. He's not going to answer that. 'You should go inside.'

'I'm not tired.'

'Doesn't matter. Come on.' He moves as if to stand, holding a hand out for me to take, but I cross my arms over my chest and stay right where I am. He tries waiting me out, but it's useless. Settling down again, he hesitates before signing, 'Stubborn.'

Unfolding my arms, I finally get him to crack a smile as I sign, 'I know.'

It's wiped away when he flinches uncomfortably at something.

'Was there a noise?', I guess, confused.

The horizon gapes emptily at us from afar, a black stripe. I can't see anything unusual.

'Lori.' He supplies, defeated. 'She's coughing.'

A soft, oh, slips from my mouth.

'It's why I'm out here.'

The only thing I can think of to say is, 'She'll be okay.'

It's not much, but Rick still reaches out and takes my shoulder, attempting a smile before dropping his hand.

I'm on the side of the road again, the trees looming over me, tucked between old cobble walls as the farm sits some miles away, whatever that's left of it burning to a crisp. The door is there, is what he snarled at us. Let's see how far you get. The world was an open set of jaws in that moment. While I'm almost certain Dad and I would've made it, because like T says, we're cockroaches, I don't know for sure if the rest of the group would have, if Beth, Herschel, and Carol would have. We've been together since... Everything.

But I do know that we chose Rick, and he chose us. I would say it's like this thing called symbiosis, which I learnt about in second grade. But it's not. My teacher told us that without the egrets and the anemone and the sucker fish, the cattle and the clown fish and the sharks would die. They can't make it alone. But we ain't a family because we'd die otherwise.

We're family because Dale had this stupid old watch while he was still alive, and he said that despite everything, our paths aligned at the quarry all the same, and then I got scratched and a whole bunch of awful stuff happened, like explosions and gunshots and broken fences, and we blinked, and now we love each other so deeply we don't care if we could survive apart.

'You're doing a good job, Rick,' I sign.

It might be the fire, but his eyes go shiny afterwards. Yeah. I'll pretend it's the fire.

He got us to the CDC. Got us out. Killed Sophia. Jim. His best friend, just a few days later. Those four people on the road.

He touches his chin. 'Thank you.'

I can tell he doesn't believe me. M, T, A, M, O, S, S, J, J, P. I don't know how else to convince him. Maybe I can't.

Absentmindedly watching the fire dance, I clutch the locket through my sweatshirt.

'What is that?', Rick asks.

Thinking nothing of it, I pull the thing free, letting it sit against my sternum. 'Shane gave it to me.'

Something about Rick twists at the mention of Shane, making its way onto his face like a curling snake, a nasty scowl. He holds his hand out, wanting to hold it. A little unsure, I thread the chain over my head and carefully lay the pendant in his palm.

Bringing it closer to his lap, he glares down at the olive of metal as if it's his best friend reincarnated.

'When we were at the gas station,' I tell him, trying not to remember the blood, 'We argued. He gave it to me after.'

The BANG, the spike of blood, his arms shielding his face as he lay on the floor.

I think... I think I don't like this.

'Can I have it back now?'

His grip turns white.

Feeling a bit like I'm interrupting something that should be private, I don't bother asking again, just reaching ou—

My hand is knocked away. He rears his arm back — Oh, God. My heart, going cold as the snow. — and throws the locket into the fire. It disappears beneath the flames. I exclaim something, a half-word or maybe a shriek, like I've been burned at the same time as the brown thrasher and the photo of my Momma inside. My hands shoot out all on their own to grab for it, but I reel them back in.

I need to— I need to put the fire out. I've gotta smother it with something.

Frantically starting to scoop up handfuls of the snow around us, I think Rick realizes he's made a terrible mistake. He seems to wake up, pushing himself to his feet to try and help me save it, grabbing more, more, and more snow, dumping it onto the fire.

The light goes out all at once, smoke trailing up into the air, a dreadful, blackened smell.

He claws through the pot, wincing as he touches the metal, pulling out the locket.

When he thumbs the door open, the photo is nothing but a stain of soot.

I stand there, too big to fit inside my skin, my everything shaking with a different type of horror.

It's gone.

Rick stares at me, the smoke blowing past him.

My snow globe bulges in all directions like a pulsing heart, silent as ever. The door to the staff room opens over Rick's shoulder, my Dad hugging himself as he steps out. I was supposed to look after her. She was supposed to be safe in there. He's spewing apologies before my Dad even understands what's happened, but he catches on quick. The thing in his hand is my locket. It's ruined.

You did this?, I think he's needling him, or sum' like it. The Hell is wrong wit'chu?

Rick's shaking his head, cradling it like it's a pile of bones he can put back together. I'm sorry. I didn't know.

Just give it back!, I demand.

It's the first time I've tried to speak aloud since losing my hearing, the syllables an awkward tar in my teeth.

I snatch the locket from his grasp, giving the pot a hard kick before storming away.

SLAM.

It wakes everyone up, but I can apologise later, 'cause right now I'm throwing myself onto the mattress and pulling the blanket over my head, sealing myself away from them all. This ain't the farm. I can't just hide away in a tent somewhere, or take a breather in one of the paddocks. I'm stuck in this stuffy room, where I know I'm being stared at even through the blanket. I know how to ignore it.

The locket is a hot coal in my hands, illuminating the dark pocket as the last of the photo smoulders.

A long while passes.

Then, somebody's sittin' down next to me.

They don't move for a long while, just a comforting heat at my side.

Then they lift the blanket up, and it's Dad, pulling it over his head so we're both hiding under it.

'She's gone,' I fill him in before he can ask, just in case he ain't already know. For real, this time.

He saw. 'I know.'

'It was Rick.'

A pause. 'I know.'

'Did you punch him?'

'Did you want me to?'

I think about it for a moment, tracing the smear inside the locket door, before shaking my head. 'No.'

I know it's stupid. It's just a photo, but it was the only one I had. I won't be able to see her face whenever the feeling strikes anymore, or if I find myself missing her more than usual. I'm already committing the photo to memory so I don't forget her face.

'He said Shane gave it to you.' He signs, more of a musing than an accusation. 'I didn't know that.'

I never told him where I got the locket. It could've been from Beth, Maggie, Lori. Anyone but Shane.

No point lying, now. 'Well, now you do.'

'Why did you keep it?'

I don't know. 'I missed him.'

He fails to say anything for a minute or two, but then he picks his hands up again. 'Do you still miss him?'

You're allowed, Carl muttered into my shoulder that night.

'Yeah.'

'You know he was a piece of shit, don't you? '

I scoff through my nose. That ain't even the half of it. 'Yeah. I know.'

He eyes the locket, as if wanting to take it away from me.

My fingers curl around it protectively, holding it to my chest.

It's mine. He's gonna have to fight me for it.

He studies my face for a while, but we both know he's not gonna fight me. No. Instead, he pulls the blanket down, tucking it around my shoulders. I force out a sigh and rest my head on his chest, feeling him stroke his thumb up and down the slope of my cheek.

After the rest of the group see I'm more or less alright, they lay their heads back down.

The window sits there, pulsing orange.

Both the moon and Rick are exactly where they were before. He's back to consulting the stars, this time, without the light.

Author's Note.

So, I've obviously decided to spend a little more time with the group before we reach the prison. I'm anxious to get us to season three, but I just felt like there's some story beats left over from the farm that could use their own space. I hope you enjoyed it! :)

Heads up - You can expect only one more Winter chapter after this one.

Please let me know what you think of the new dialogue format, with everyone using sign language now. It's not permanent, seeing as Harley will have her hearing aids back once the weather gets warmer, but she's still 95% deaf and will rely on ASL most of the time.

It was a bit of a bold move to fully lean into Harley's disability, but in my opinion, it was the only natural progression. I did a bit of googling, and to the best of my knowledge, everything here is anatomically realistic and accurate. Oh, and so is all the ASL! :)

However, there isn't actually a river separating Newnan and Sharpsburg... Shhhh! ;)

One last thing. This story's playlist has gotten quite a lot bigger. Check it out!

I'll be working hard on the next chapter! Thanks for reading 💙

#twd #fanfic #the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #angst #rick grimes #glenn rhee

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ponyosmom35 · 6 months ago

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Nightmares

bittersweet chapter sixteen

steve harrington x fem oc

synopsis: Indie is having nightmares and Steve grows worried about her.

warnings: nightmares, barb's death, grief

link to master list:

https://www.tumblr.com/ponyosmom35/733401347573088256/simon-ghost-riley?source=share

Two weeks later

It had been nearly two weeks since Indie's life changed forever. Two weeks since she found out her sister was dead. Two weeks since they fought a demogorgan. Two weeks since Steve Harrington had decided to be her 'new best friend'. Which thus far had been true. He'd begun picking her up and driving her to and from school, eating lunch with her in his car, and studying together. Indie was incredibly grateful for his presence, he made her harsh reality a bit easier to handle. The unyielding support he'd offered her was heartwarming. Steve had begun to need Indie just as much, she was a light in the darkness as he grappled with the existence of monsters and alternate dimensions along with his breakup with Nancy Wheeler. The two needed one another.

After class, Steve waits for Indie by her locker, casually leaning against the wall. When she finally reaches him, he gives her a concerned look. Steve glances at her face, noticing the dark circles under her eyes, and his frown deepens.

"Hey, you look exhausted. You didn't get much sleep last night, did you?"

"Is it that obvious?"

Steve nods, his expression filled with concern. "Were you up all night?"

"Yeah, I was studying," she lies.

Steve narrows his eyes, not quite believing her. "Studying? Really? You sure that's all you were doing? You didn't have... other things keeping you up?"

"I have a test today," she lies again.

Steve crosses his arms, his expression turning skeptical. "A test, huh? And you had to stay up all night studying for it? Sounds a little excessive. What class is this test in?"

She looks up at him, trying to think but not having the energy. "Fifth period."

Steve continues staring at her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Fifth period... Okay, so you have a test in PE?" he says, recalling her mentioning having PE as her last class of the day.

"Yup."

Steve nods slowly, still trying to figure her out. "Right, so you've got a PE test, and you felt the need to stay up all night studying for it? What exactly do you study for a PE test anyway?"

"I was studying the rules of... soccer we're playing this week, and I'm not exactly an athlete, so I was trying to learn the rules."

Steve cocks an eyebrow at her response, still not entirely convinced but willing to let it slide. "Okay, so you were up half the night studying the rules of soccer. That explains the dark circles under your eyes and the exhaustion, huh?"

"Yes," she nods.

"Indie, what's going on?" he asks gently. "You can talk to me."

"It's nothing."

Steve frowns, seeing the hint of a lie in her eyes. He steps a little closer, his voice soft and gentle. "It's not nothing. You can't have stayed up all night just studying for a PE test. You're hiding something from me. What's really going on?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," she says, her voice firm but unconvincing.

Steve studies her face for a moment, searching for any signs of truth. Finding none, he lets out an exasperated sigh. "That's bullshit, and you know it. You're not fine. So don't try to feed me this 'nothing is wrong' bullshit, alright?"

"This isn't your problem, Steve. I'm just tired today, that's all."

Steve raises an eyebrow at her dismissiveness and shakes his head, a mix of disbelief and annoyance on his face. "You seriously think I'm just gonna let this go? You're my friend, Indie. Your problems are my problems. And you're not 'just tired'—you're completely exhausted, and you look like you haven't slept a wink. So don't brush me off."

Indie looks over her shoulder to make sure nobody is around and clutches her books to her chest. "I've been having nightmares about Barb."

The change in Indie's demeanor instantly grabs Steve's attention. His expression softens, the annoyance replaced by concern. "Nightmares? That's what's been keeping you up all night?"

"Every time I sleep, I have the same dream, and I don't want to watch her die every time I close my eyes, so I've been trying to just stay up."

Steve's heart aches for Indie as she opens up about her torment. He places a gentle hand on her shoulder, his voice filled with empathy. "You can't keep going on without sleep; it's gonna destroy you."

"I'll be fine," she promises. "You don't have to worry about me."

Steve lets out a frustrated huff, shaking his head. He's not buying her promise for a second. "Don't give me that 'I'll be fine' crap. You're not fine, and I am gonna worry about you whether you like it or not. I can't just sit back when you're clearly struggling."

"I appreciate that, Steve, but this is something I need to work through myself."

Steve huffs again, clearly not happy with her dismissive response, but he knows that Indie can be stubborn when she wants to be. "You don't have to go through this alone, you know. You don't have to fight these nightmares alone. You have me, and I want to be there for you."

"How about this? I'll let you know if I need your support, friend," she says with a small smile.

Steve looks at her, still not entirely convinced by her reassurances. But he knows that pushing too hard would just make her shut down. He sighs, reluctantly agreeing to her terms. "Alright, fine. I'll back off for now. But you better promise that you'll come to me if you need help, got it? I don't want you suffering silently just because you're too damn stubborn to ask for help."

"I promise," she says.

Steve eyes her for a moment longer, searching her face for any hint of falsehood. Finally, he nods, accepting her promise.

Indie’s nightmare begins the same way it always does, with her standing in her living room, everything around her feeling oddly familiar yet terrifyingly wrong. The walls seem to breathe, the shadows dance, and the air is thick with a sense of impending doom. She tries to move, but her feet are glued to the floor, an invisible force keeping her rooted in place.

She hears her sister Barb's voice, faint at first, calling her name from somewhere in the house. Panic seizes Indie’s heart as she desperately tries to call back, but her voice is trapped in her throat, silenced by fear. The room grows colder, the temperature dropping rapidly until her breath fogs in front of her face.

Suddenly, Barb appears at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide with terror. Indie watches helplessly as Barb’s gaze locks onto something behind her. The dread in her sister's eyes sends a shiver down her spine, and Indie’s body begins to tremble uncontrollably. She tries to scream, to warn her, but no sound comes out.

The demogorgon emerges from the darkness at the end of the hallway, its grotesque, flower-like mouth opening wide, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth. Its growl reverberates through the house, a sickening sound that makes Indie’s skin crawl. Barb backs away slowly, but there’s nowhere to go. The creature advances, each step deliberate, as if it knows that Indie is powerless to stop it.

Indie’s heart pounds in her chest as she struggles to move, to do anything to save her sister, but her body is paralyzed. The demogorgon lunges at Barb, its claws slashing through the air. Barb screams, a sound so filled with fear and pain that it echoes in Indie’s ears, a haunting cry that she knows she’ll never forget.

The monster’s claws sink into Barb’s flesh, dragging her to the ground. Indie watches in horror as the demogorgon begins to tear into her sister, the sound of ripping flesh and bones snapping filling the room. Blood splatters across the walls, painting the scene in a gruesome shade of red. Barb's screams grow weaker, turning into desperate whimpers, and all Indie can do is watch, her vision blurring with tears.

She tries again to move, to shout, to do anything, but she’s trapped in her own body, forced to witness the horrific scene unfold. The demogorgon lifts Barb’s lifeless body, its mouth opening wide to devour her. Indie’s breath catches in her throat, her heart shattering as she sees the last remnants of life leave her sister’s eyes.

Indie wakes with a start, her body drenched in sweat, her heart racing as if it’s trying to escape her chest. She can still hear Barb’s screams echoing in her mind, still see the blood, the terror in her sister’s eyes. She’s trembling uncontrollably, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

Her phone is on the nightstand, just within reach. She grabs it, her hands shaking so badly that she almost drops it as she dials Steve’s number. The moment he picks up, she doesn’t even give him a chance to speak.

"Steve," she whispers, her voice trembling, "Can you come over? Please."

There’s a pause on the other end, and then his voice, warm and reassuring, comes through. "I’m on my way."

Minutes later, Steve is at her door, still in the clothes he wore that day, worry etched into his features. Indie lets him in, her hands still shaking as she leads him to her room. She can’t bring herself to speak; she just climbs back onto her bed, pulling the covers around her like a shield against the horrors that her mind conjured.

Steve sits down on the edge of her bed, watching her closely. He can see the fear in her eyes, the way her body is trembling beneath the blankets. Without a word, he pulls her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame. Indie buries her face in his chest, trying to hold back the tears, but they spill out anyway, soaking into his shirt. Steve doesn’t say anything; he just holds her tighter, his hand gently rubbing her back as he tries to soothe her.

"I’ve got you," he murmurs into her hair. "I’m here. You’re safe."

She clings to him, her body shaking with the force of her sobs. Steve stays with her, holding her until the trembling starts to subside, until her breathing slows down to something resembling normal. He doesn’t let go until she starts to pull away, wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her hand.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice hoarse from crying.

Steve shakes his head. "You don’t have to thank me. I’m here for you, always."

Indie manages a weak smile, but it’s fleeting. The nightmare is still fresh in her mind, the images of Barb’s death still playing behind her eyes every time she blinks. She looks at the floor, her voice barely a whisper. "Can you… can you stay?"

Steve nods without hesitation. "Of course."

He grabs a spare pillow and blanket from the foot of her bed and sets up a spot on the floor. As he lays down, he looks up at her, his eyes filled with a determination that almost makes her believe she can get through this.

"I’ll be right here, Indie," he says firmly. "I’m not going anywhere. And I promise, I’ll make sure you stay safe."

Indie lies back down, her body still shaking slightly, but the weight of Steve’s promise eases some of the fear that clings to her. She listens to his breathing, steady and reassuring, and eventually, the terror begins to fade, just enough for her to close her eyes and drift off to sleep.

Steve stays awake long after she’s fallen asleep, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, making sure that Indie’s breathing stays steady, that she’s not dragged back into the nightmare. And even though he’s on the floor, uncomfortable and tired, he doesn’t mind. Because right now, keeping Indie safe is the only thing that matters.

#stranger things season 5 #steve harrington imagine #stranger things s4 #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic

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hispieceofcake · 9 months ago

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🪲My opinions and thoughts about the costume of the main character in the Beetlejuice sequel trailer🕸️ — (and the upcoming film)

I want to make it clear that these are just my opinions and thoughts, this post has no intention of provoking discussion or offending other people's opinions, it's just what I think and what I observe.

Okay, firstly about the choice of actor for the main character, I think the actress Jenna Ortega more than DESERVED this role, She was undoubtedly a great choice of actress, a friend and I talked about it and realized that Jenna really gives off the vibe of the movie Beetlejuice. It really fits into films with more gothic and horror themes, things like that, but then there's a small problem...

The problem itself is that they took away that gothic vibe like Lidya had in the first film, "Ah but she's Lidya's daughter, she doesn't necessarily need to be goth", That's it, Beetlejuice is a film with a more gothic feel, death, ghosts, bats, afterlife, things like that.

And I think it was kind of annoying that they took away this essence from the main character, Jenna is an AMAZING actress and fits in beautifully with gothic characters (Wednesday is an example).

Here we have an image I made comparing Lidya in the first film, and Jenna's character's outfit, and it honestly looks like she's dressed like a grunge teenager from TikTok.

"Ah, but there was a passage of time between the first film and the two"

Yes, there was, so much so that Lidya got married and had a daughter, but I don't know, they could have tried to keep the character a bit Gothic.

Now about the wedding dress on the official poster...

Guys, I even understand wanting to change the character's style and so on because well, it's been more or less 26 or 27 years and the style of the time has changed, but that's where the issue comes in. In the first film, it's Beetlejuice who makes the dress appear on Lidya, and he'll probably be the one to make Jenna's character's dress appear too and he was kind of stuck in that waiting room all that time, that is, the time has changed but he hasn't. Where I want to get to is the following

Here's a photo of Lidya's dress, and comparing it to Jenna's character's dress... I don't think Beetlejuice would make her wear a "simple" dress like that, man, we're talking about BEETLEJUICE, do you really think he would make his bride wear something simple?

Not to say anything bad, but the design on the top of the dress seems very simple, like something most people wear nowadays, I may be taking a shot in the dark for not having seen the rest of the dress but I'm talking about the top itself.

I made a picture of what in my head missing screws would make more sense or look better on the iconic wedding dress.

Like, it's okay for the top to be simple but the veil could make a big difference too, like in the image, I put two examples that I think would be perfect.

And remembering again people, it's just my opinion and my thoughts during a sleepless night, don't come and show up at my window in the middle of the night. 😥

Leaving that topic, we discovered that there will be a musical number in the film and honestly I'm quite excited and anxious to see what it will be like, and I'll be able to have a new song for my Beetlejuice playlist, so I'm very happy.☺️

Well people, that's all, I'm writing this at 3:36 in the morning and I haven't slept yet, so I decided to write this because I've been having these thoughts for a while. I also wanted to ask for something, as I've been saying in several posts, I'm making a Beetlejuice Masterlist, and it has things from the first film, the cartoon, the musical and now the sequel.

It's been a lot of work, and there's one thing I've been looking for for days and can't find, it's the 1992 Beetlejuice Cartoon Annual, so if anyone has it or has the link please share with me, I would be grateful.💗

Well, that's it, kisses to everyone's hearts and be careful with Beetlejuice in your room. *Beetlejuice jumpscare*

#beetlejuice 1988 #beetlejuice movie #beetlejuice #beetlejuice fandom #beetlejuice sequel #beetlejuice 2024 #beetlejuice 2 #beetlejuice new movie #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice #beetlejuice movie 1988 #Beetlejuice movie 2024 #I'm writing this at dawn #i have insomnia #sorry for anything I said that offended #I wanted Beetlejuice to help me sleep

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championofsanghelios · 2 years ago

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Sidlink Shorts - To be held...

I haven't slept in 30+ hours (due to Insomnia, I'm waiting for a good time to pass out and get my sleeping patterns in order). If that shows in this silly little story, I can only apologize.

It had been a rather quiet day at the Zora's Domain, all things considered. The King had been seen off to his chambers for the evening and Muzu had just concluded the evening sessions of the Elders Counsel.

Sidon was on his way back to his room, when he stopped in the plaza to take a moment and just let the air pass through his gills. The residents were getting ready to head home and get some much needed sleep after another productive day.

The Prince was as ever full of energy, at least outwardly and spoke to each one and bade them a very good night as they continued on their way. He took one last long look out of at the mountains that surrounded the Domain, listening to the rush of the waterfalls that fed through from the hills beyond.

He was about to turn about and head back for his room, when something stopped him, a strange sensation, or instinct that made him want to turn around.

As he does, he let's out a rush of air is forced out of his gills, as standing there, looking very miserable and exhausted was the one thing that never looked that way.

Link...

"...where did you come from?" the Prince, despite the Hylian's obvious distress manages to smile warmly. "I didn't see hear you arrive."

Link doesn't say in anything in response, he barely manages to muster the strength to look at him before his eyes sting with tears and his breathing picks up.

Sidon didn't know what was hurting him, but he wasn't about to let the man stand here and cry alone, with nowhere to hide his face, or muffle his sobs.

"...come here..." He says quietly, opening his arms to him, a twinkle in his eye. "...you'll always be safe here with me."

Link doesn't hesitate at the offer, and to Sidon's increasing satisfaction, it seems that this was exactly what he wanted. The Hylian makes a few urgent steps forwards and practically leaps into his arms, clinging to his broad frame like his very life depended on it.

Sidon closes his embrace, lifting him up off the ground as he straightens his posture. Link buries his face into his shoulder, a quiet sniffling the noise escaping him. Sidon feels the hot moisture of his tears against his scales.

"Let's go somewhere less...exposed shall we?" he asks as he carries him out of the plaza and into the heart of the Domain, along the long one of the hallways and into his personal suite.

SOME HOURS LATER

"...I had this...dream whilst I was making camp out in the wetlands." Link says some hours later, sitting on Sidon's chest as he lays back on the surface of his sleeping pool, looking up at him intently. "...a stupid...irrational one come to think of it..."

"What was it about?" Sidon asks. "...if you don't mind me asking."

"You." Link answers after a moment, looking down at his hands which were grasping gently at the Prince's chest. He didn't seem to mind at all. "...I thought about the last time I was here and how you...how you held me after the fight with the Water blight..."

He sighs, shaking his head. Seeming to fight the emotion as it returns to his voice. Tears pricking the corners of his eyes again. "...and it occurred to me that...I hadn't been held like that in a long time...I-..."

Grunting, he sniffs sharply. "...dammit..."

"There's nothing irrational and stupid about wanting to be held by someone, Link." Sidon says after a pause. "...it happens to everyone, even me."

"Really?" Link looks up at him suddenly, sniffing again. "...you do?"

"All the time." Sidon nods his head, smiling. "I can't tell you the number of times I've ran to my father, or Bazz because I just needed their company, I needed to be held and comforted. To be reminded that I'm not alone."

He sighs a little, his large hand coming to rest on Link's forearm. "...you don't need to feel bad about it...it's not weak or pathetic...everyone is entitled to that comfort, to that love, including you."

There's a short pause, and he smiles again. "...and I'll always be here to give it to you...no matter what happens."

"...I'm just so scared of being alone." Link says after a moment, his voice breaking a little.

"Aren't we all..." The Prince replies to that, before moving his hand up to the side of Link's face. "...you'll never have to be afraid of that, my friend...you have me."

. . .

#short stories #short and sweet #sidlink #link x sidon #prince sidon #loz link

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theorist-influencer-untitled · 11 months ago

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3.19.24 Tuesday

3:10 am

I still have windblow.....I feel bitterish....I slept already and dreamed of myself as this....I feel bitter...

I feel bitter and hurt and offended for 17 years... I wanna leave Cavite.

8:07 am

I have windblow... Thank God for today! First thing first, in spite of everything but hoping for some good story twist though... I feel irritated and hurt on things that I don't know that I must know...

I'm worrying so much what happened to my baby... Someone bit him on the upper left part of his eye or was it bitten by a rat coz the electric plug are effective ( I think so )....Last night the rats are not active even in the kitchen....I think before they left our place a big rat bit John...

I cleaned it with a betadine...

8:46 am

Still, Uncle DD is not yet sharing the fundings here... No extra's on anything but only for themselves....( which I don't like them ).

I still have windblow...I feel insulted here in Cavite...It is time for Cavite to grow-up and never interfere badly on someone,most specially to me...

But on Mitch, I still wanna know what's up? Did she do something??? ( without my knowledge or approval ). Is she ohkay now???

8:56 am

I'm not happy being here... For 17 years I didn't see my Prince or my Knight and Shining Armour. If there was but I'm doubting these days...

I haven't seen a mature men or man... On my exes since I have this windblow, I'm on a doubt for 17 years and I feel super hurt on things that I don't know, that I must know...

Like for Mark if he is just nearby without my knowledge of his presence if he is just nearby or one of the Mickey Mouse, why??? Why, are you just there and bumping with a neighbour or a nearby women???

On Borgy, it was really a tiring movement that I thought it was a new beginning WITH not only ON , his family ( Marcos/Manotoc ) but it didn't work that way....It was tiring that I should end but they need to be responsible those red's or 20's ( people who pushed me on the movement ) that I took super seriously....We should end that fucking selfishness of Borgy. But I want them to be responsible...

Yeah! Food is the most important thing in people's lives...Being religious means to eat ( to serve from the heart)....But it is also in the bible that prepare and cook the meat beautifully so that you can feed the good people happily.

Again, I feel hurt where is Mark? Where is Mitch? Both are Born Again,but I want a bounderies... My Mark is my Mark and My Mitch is My Mitch.

Mark & Mimmy and Phychang & Mitchang. THERE WILL BE NO MARK LINKING ON MITCH WITHOUT MY FUCKING KNOWLEDGE OR WITHOUT MY PRESENCE....

I didn't see anyone for 17 years Mark....I need you now... I CAN'T WAIT FOR AN ANOTHER 3 YEARS, FOR ME TO BE 20 or 46??? It is unfair...

9:18 am

For new men that I tried to attack,they don't like me or I'm just ugly??... I was just gonna asked supposed to be on Revo to lift me in Conduent and I badly need a partner coz of the windblow but it went nah!!! Blown BY the wind...Cute faces still rock like a punk!

The black american man was just a fucking passer-by??? The same thing blown WITH the wind....

Even Mike on cuddle he didn't even think of me....I feel hurt for all those fucking flat years I had have...Blown BY the wind as well???

I feel Hurt!!! There is nobody for me or if there is they hide things from or doing things at my back which is totally UNFAIR!!!

There is no will or guts or no maturity at all... I hate it when there is a particular group who took away my links that it is supposed to be mine...

Even other girlfriends who tried to test the "tool" before I can have it but without my existence...

11 am

11:28 am

Don't kill Neko whoever you are....I feel bitter...

Even on my love life.... Don't kill my glow... I wanna leave Cavite.

1:35 pm

Creating Memories...

youtube

2:14 pm

More memories but still not my ideal aging life...

youtube

2:22 pm

Karaoke Time... Snooze 2?

youtube

2:39 pm

Again?

youtube

3:04 pm

Let's wait awhile...

youtube

3:28 pm

youtube

4:07 pm

Tell me if you love me or not... Act 2!

youtube

5:03 pm

I still have windblow... I still feel bitter.... I'm thinking of money and job....

I still want to have vanity,angels....Still,I feel mad and jealous!!!

6:57 pm

I still wanna leave Cavite....I need a bf to assist me, someone cute or handsome...

Where is Mark? I have windblow... I can't exist...

I still wanna see my old friends and new to come, it hurts if Mark is just nearby meaning what? Is he a Mickey Mouse??? But why...

I feel jealous on things that I don't know, that I must know...

#Youtube

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unseededtoast · 11 months ago

Text

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Seven

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

"When they return, I'll be waiting for them."

The eerie silence of the night amplifies every little noise. Joel managed to fall asleep about an hour ago, and each time he moves or readjusts, fear strikes me. For some reason, my mind is convinced that more infected are in here, when I know they're not. If they were, they would have made themselves known by now.

Looking back out of the window, I readjust the way I'm sitting because my legs have gone numb. My eyes burn from forcing myself to stay awake, but each time I close my eyes I'm haunted by images of the dead children. I tap my fingertips on the floor as I keep close eye on the horizon, looking for anything to signify life. My chest rises and falls dramatically as I sigh in frustration and disappointment.

Standing from the ground, I pace around the small corner I've confined myself to for Joel's comfort. I knew that he'd never let himself be lulled to sleep if I stayed close, he seems to be well guarded and generally untrusting. So I was surprised when I glanced over and saw his eyes closed and head leaned against the wall a few hours ago. Only the muffled sound of my boots hitting the floor can be heard, and I'm sure it's not loud enough to wake him.

My mind begins working through different scenarios once more. Like what is my next move if the killers don't start a fire tonight? How am I going to determine which way to go? I can't just guess at it, that would be a massive waste of time and would put me in unnecessary danger. My eyes drift back to the large windows on the wall, wishing and hoping that I'd finally see something. Each time I look and see nothing, a small part of my strong resolve dissolves.

Yawning, I find my fingers fiddling with my necklace, trying to keep myself inspired to stay here and see this through instead of feeding into my disappointment and going back to the QZ.

"Why don't we trade off?" Joel's voice startles me. My body jumps involuntarily at the unexpected sound and I look over to him, the moonlight illuminating half of his face. Once my heartbeat has settled to a semi-regular pace, I shake my head,

"No that's okay. You get more sleep, I'll be just fine." My voice is rough from staying silent for so long. Joel looks out the window.

"You haven't slept all night. You really think you can keep goin' like this?" His voice is deep and quiet, his dark eyes meet mine through the shadows. A part of me knows he's right, I can't keep functioning at my fullest capacity with limited sleep.

"I'm gonna have to." I say, my words betraying what I know is right. For some reason, I know I would feel bad if I took him up on his offer. This isn't his fight, he shouldn't have to stay awake for my sake. He shakes his head,

"You say that 'til you're face to face with death because your judgment is impaired and you make a simple mistake." It almost sounds like he's speaking from experience. I walk closer to him so that our voices can stay quiet, just in case there is something lurking around in here that we didn't see.

"But that won't be on you. And besides, this was my idea, I can't pass off my responsibility to you. You'll need the rest for your trip." I say, tucking my necklace back underneath my shirt. He stares at me for a long while, like he's trying to figure me out.

"Who are you after?" He asks. I shrug my shoulders,

"I don't know. Well, you heard what I said back at James' place, three kids were killed. They were all assaulted and mutilated. One of them died in my arms. And I had even checked that area not fifteen minutes earlier." My voice trails off as I remember the poor girl's last breaths and her blood smearing on my arms as she grasped at them for help. My gaze finds its way down to the ground and I blink away the tears.

"Who were those kids to you?" He asks, his voice sounding softer than it was a few minutes ago. I pick my eyes back up and stare straight ahead out at the city.

"I didn't know them. But nobody deserves that end, especially not kids." I say and turn my head to look at him. He just nods.

"Sleep. I'll look for them." He says and stands from his position on the ground. I shake my head and cross my arms, prepared to stand my ground on this one. I'm not sure why I'm so concerned with this stranger's wellbeing, but I can't find it in myself to be selfish and accept his offer.

"No it's oka-"

"No. Sleep. You'll need the energy." He doesn't let me finish my sentence before he turns his back on me and goes to look out the window.

I take his spot up against the wall, and lean my head back. If he's so insistent on it, then I guess I shouldn't fight it. He knows his capabilities and it's not my job to take care of him. My eyes close and the silence welcomes me to sleep quickly, maybe I needed this more than I thought.

"Hey." A shove on my shoulder wakes me and my eyes fly open. Quickly, I look around, not recognizing my surroundings. I find Joel's face above me, he's standing right beside me and must have nudged my shoulder with his leg.

"What?" I ask, suddenly alert and aware of where I am. I stand from my spot and follow him over to the window, where he presses a finger to the glass, pointing off in the distance. I follow his finger and see what I've been looking for all night. A plume of black smoke is rising to the sky.

My jaw sets tight as I watch the smoke dissipate in the air. The rising sun is visible on the horizon, I must have been out for a few hours. My arms cross in front of my chest and I make note of where it's coming from, and what streets I need to take to get there. If I leave now, there's a good chance I'll be able to reach them before they abandon their camp.

Turning away from Joel, I grab my backpack that I had put in my corner last night. I shrug it over my shoulders and tighten the straps so that the weight is evenly distributed. My boots feel like they might be getting a touch loose, so I bend down and tighten the laces. Once I'm sure I'm ready to leave, I take a centering breath and go over to Joel and extend a hand.

"Pleasure doing business with you." I say with a small smile, appreciating his willingness to stay with me. He looks down at my hand and back out the window.

"The smoke was to the west, the way I'm headed back home." Is all he says and I awkwardly drop my hand back down to my side. My eyebrows scrunch together, not entirely understanding what he's implying.

"You could go around, might add a mile or two to your trip though." I say, glancing back at the smoke plume. Joel takes a moment to look back out at the smoke before he nods his head and holds his hand out. I take it and give him the firmest handshake I can.

The two of us turn and make our way back down to the street, the sun quickly rising in the sky. If I can pull this off well, I might even be back home before sundown. Off in the distance, I can still see the smoke. Joel and I turn to one another before we part our ways.

"Stay safe out there." I say with a small smile, hoping that his trip is uninterrupted and goes well for him. He's probably got a family waiting for him, and they deserve to have him back. He gives me a curt nod,

"Good luck." Is all he says before we embark on our separate journeys.

I begin walking towards the smoke and try to get into a fighter's mindset. It's not only the people I have to worry about out here on the streets. I push every other thought out of my mind and try to get back into the headspace I had years ago when I had to fight the infected every day on patrols. They're quick and they're strong. So, I have to be quicker and smarter if I want to live. The same goes for dealing with the killers.

My stomach twists the closer I get to the smoke. I don't like that I'm essentially going in blind, who knows how many there are. It would be in my best interest to try and pull this off stealthily. If I can find some sort of vantage point before I get too close to scope out the camp that would be best. It would be really nice if I had a rifle with me, then I could find somewhere up high to camp out and take them out like that. But unfortunately, rifles are very difficult to find nowadays, even more so now that the arms trade has slowed in Boston.

I keep moving forward until I find myself close enough to the smoke where I can smell it. Taking a look around, I find an old store off to the right where I should be able to get a good angle on their camp. Swiftly and quietly, I make my way to the store with no interruptions and carefully step through the broken glass door. I'm careful to keep my footsteps level and close to the ground, so that the glass shards don't make too much noise.

The store looks like it had been ransacked years ago, and is now a mess of tipped shelves and useless products. As I make my way to the back of the store, I look at the discarded items, making sure there's nothing of use that I can grab. But it looks like all that remains are empty boxes and various electronics. Nothing that I can immediately use to my advantage. The back of the store houses the roof access point and I climb the ladder, pushing the entrance open with a small squeak.

Sunlight blinds me as I step out onto the roof and I quickly crouch down so that any wandering eyes won't be able to spot me. From my vantage point, I see a small camp. There's one tent set up and a smoldering fire in the center, billowing white smoke now that it has been put out. Squinting my eyes, I see one person standing around. But nobody else.

My blood runs cold, that has to be the killer. Or at least one of them. Maybe the other one is off patrolling the area or something. If I can go take that one out, then the other should be no problem. However, it all seems too simple, too easy. Something just doesn't feel right to me. But, maybe I'm just overthinking this and it really is going to be this simple.

I wait for a few more minutes before I leave the rooftop, just to be sure nobody else is going to show up. I don't hear anyone in the distance, so I have to guess that the coast is clear, or at least will be clear enough for me to get down there and take down the person I saw.

I stay crouched as I make my way to the camp, grabbing the curved blade out of my belt and holding it tightly in my hand. All of my focus is on staying quiet and making smart moves. My mouth goes dry as I approach the edge of the camp. Hiding behind a building, I peek out to make sure nobody else somehow showed up.

The same person is standing by their tent with their back facing me. It strikes me as odd, but maybe they got their hands on some pills and are too spaced out to know what's going on. Before I leave my cover behind the building, I close my eyes and say a silent prayer with shaky breaths.

My eyes open and I'm focused on one thing only. To kill the man that stands a few feet from me. I turn the corner and take calculated steps, avoiding debris on the ground. My breath is silent, but my heartbeat sounds incredibly loud. The man isn't turning around, he's standing oddly still and it sends a familiar panic through my body.

I freeze in my tracks as my boot steps on a rogue twig, probably meant to fuel the fire but never got used. Within the blink of an eye, the man turns around and it doesn't take me long to register that he's not alive, well, not humanly. The man's reanimated body screams out and runs toward me, hands outreached to grab me.

I dodge his swing and plunge my knife towards his head. The recently-turned man is fast, and my knife only catches a few inches of his throat. I don't have enough time to react to the missed slash before I'm tackled to the ground, the man's teeth inch closer and closer to my neck as I try to fight him off.

My panic somehow makes me more focused, and old maneuvers feel like muscle memory. I bring my knee up and hit the man, throwing off the equilibrium so I can get the upper hand. As he's thrown off balance, I use the momentum from my kick to bring my body above his, my hips straddling his torso. Without thinking, I raise my knife and bring it down into the man's head. His body goes limp and twitches as he dies once again.

Blood splatters my hands and forearms as I pull the knife from the man's skull. I use the man's green shirt to clean my blade and then I stand from the ground, looking down at the corpse. He looks recently turned, maybe a few hours old at this point. Turning around, I look for any more runners that may have been tipped off to the struggle, but find nothing except empty streets and silence.

Taking advantage of an empty camp, I start rummaging around for anything they left behind. I check the man's pockets first, finding nothing but an old cigarette. Next, I search the tent and find an old map shoved underneath the sleeping bag. Unfolding the map, I see several marks on it.

The Boston QZ is circled, and I see a few other cities with the same circle. Other places are marked with the Firefly symbol. Sprinkled throughout the country there are some areas marked with stars. One location is marked with a large 'T'. There's no indication of what these symbols mean, but I can deduce some things from common sense. I can only guess that the circles represent QZ areas and the Firefly symbol is where known Firefly outposts are; that much is fairly obvious. The T might represent where these people came from, but it's all the way out in Nebraska. As for the stars, I don't have the faintest idea.

I fold the map up and put it in my bag to study later once I'm not out in the open. The rest of the tent holds nothing of value to me and so I move out and check the fire. There are scraps of paper in there mixed with twigs. Reaching in, I grab the largest scraps I can find, and see that there's only a few legible words left on each. The one scrap says "eliminate" and the other says "immune".

Moving on and not dwelling on what those words might mean, I tear apart the rest of the camp to look for anything useful. Beside the fire there's a second sleeping bag and I reach my hand down in it, pulling out another piece of paper. These people love writing notes to one another it seems.

The words on the paper are a lot more useful than the scraps I found in the fire. I read it quickly and read it a second time, not believing what I'm seeing. The note is almost like an instruction guide. It tells whoever was here what their mission was. It looks like their mission was to hit all the QZ's in the northeastern part of the United States and kill children between the ages of thirteen and seventeen indiscriminately. It doesn't say why, but on the bottom of the paper the Firefly logo is drawn.

I put the paper in my bag along with the scraps and map. What do the Fireflies have to do with this? Going back to the man's body, I look for the telltale sign of the Fireflies, but see no pendant around the man's neck. But what I do find is the letter 'T' carved into the skin of his chest.

Making sure there's nothing else to find in the camp, I move on so that if someone does come by I'm not caught off guard. I return to the store rooftop to monitor the camp some more. If someone does come back, they'll need to be killed for their involvement as well. Nobody is going to be spared from this group if I can help it.

The sunlight begins fading, and it's becoming abundantly clear to me that nobody is coming back to this camp. Infected probably came by and they scrambled, leaving their friend to his undead fate.

Back on the move, I decide to go west. I know there's more of these people out here and if I'm right about the map, they might be going back to where they came from in Nebraska. And even if they aren't going there now, they will eventually. And when they return, I'll be waiting for them.

Part Eight

#joel miller #joel #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #joel miller x oc #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller the last of us #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal

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