#On better news I can go to town without feeling overwhelming fear I will die

[tonya-the-chicken]

One more prescription away from suicide

[nonstoplover]

protagonist ~ joe liebgott (band of brothers)

my masterlist  |  my hbo war masterlist

pairing: joe liebgott x female reader

short summary: joe's assigned to search for the perfect house for easy's hq in the new town they'll soon arrive to on their way through germany and finds one with a girl in there who's like the protagonist of one of the comics he's read - courageous, fearless, heroic.

words: 2.5K

a/n: first of all, sorry for disappearing, exam season has started at my uni and i've been hella busy these past weeks (and gonna be for the following few as well,  u g h ).

anyway this fic came around from a conversation i had with the lovely @now-im-a-belieber when i was telling her about an idea i had and she technically came up with the base of this. thank you, Pearl, i love you xx (i hope i did justice to your idea)

oh and let's just say i have no clue if this would have been possible, at least the exact way i wrote it.

taglist: @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @50svibes @pennyllanne @nowinnablewar

gif credit: @basilone

Four loud bangs sound against her front door right as she starts washing the dishes after they finished lunch. With her eyes widening in surprise she rushes back into the room, telling the family of three to hide as she's drying her hands in her apron before making her way to the door.

After taking a deep breath she grabs the handle and opens it. The next thing she knows is being pushed to the side as a figure storms in past her without a word. A gasp leaves her lungs as her back lightly collides with the wall, head turning to watch as the soldier barges in the house.

What is going on? Has someone found out about them?

With a hand reaching behind her back she pushes herself off the wall and hurries behind the man. Trying hard to sound completely calm and innocent she asks him what is going on, but he only barks back something almost inaudible - only a few German words reach her ears.

The soldier is moving with such speed that she hasn't got a single chance to get a better look at his uniform as he's entering every room one by one. Who is he? Worry swiftly floods her veins - more importantly, what is he looking for?

She can only pray the family has had enough time to properly hide.

As he reaches that door, she holds her breath back, repeating her little prayer like a mantra inside her head. The man comes to a sudden halt just as he steps through the doorframe and in an instant fear makes her blood turn freezing cold. She carefully moves closer to glance inside next to his body, not knowing what to expect.

And what she sees makes everything else in her mind disappear - just the thoughts of all hell breaking loose any time now move around inside.

Her best friend crouches on the other side of the room, clearly frozen mid-movement as her body is still half out of the hiding spot, eyes wide as she stares at the soldier, not a single muscle moving. It's like everyone's got frozen in time, none of the three people makes a move.

Liebgott's mind slow to catch up to what he sees - he didn't expect to see that as he rushed through the house. He's only been trying to decide whether it's a good place for Easy's HQ, as he has been ordered to do when Winters sent him ahead of the company.

His eyes then start moving around the room, trying hard to find a good reason as to why that girl is half inside the wall. A book is laying on the table next to the door, open at around the middle. With one glance at the pages he recognises the letters of the hebrew alphabet, and suddenly it all makes sense.

She's a Jew.

His breath hitches in his throat as he struggles to comprehend this new information, and just in that very moment the silence is broken by a voice. And it's not coming from either of the two girls in the room - more like it's coming from inside the wall.

One simple sentence, ending with a Yiddish term of endearment - one he can perfectly understand. It came from a woman, asking the girl crouching facing him from across the room why she's stopped moving.

There are more Jews in there.

His lungs fill with a sharp breath he's taken and he spins around, staring straight at the girl who opened the front door only minutes prior. The question must be clear in his eyes as she starts stammering in defense, her voice audibly shaking.

Joe shakes his head, stopping her mid-sentence. "No, they're Jews, I can see it," he says in perfect German, and the already pale girl suddenly seems even whiter.

He swiftly grabs her arm and pulls her in the direction he remembers finding the dining room in, trying to find a chair for her to sit down on, as she's visibly close to fainting - though the reason behind it he can't find.

(y/n) flinches with utter fear, weakly trying to resist being pulled away - he most probably is now taking her away to kill her, right? He's a German soldier, that's what his job is. But no matter how hard she tries to wiggle away, his grip is too tight around her arm and she can't do a thing.

Just when they arrive to the dining room and he kind of pushes her into one of the chairs is when Joe realises that she's scared of him - she immediately pushes the chair further away from him as soon as he lets go of her. So that's why she's shaking so bad.

"No, wait, don't be scared," he rushes to say. "I'm a Jew too."

This finally breaks the scaredness - instead her eyes fill with utter confusion. Her forehead wrinkles as she tries to make sense of what he's saying. How can a German soldier be Jewish? It makes absolutely no sense.

With a sudden wave of suspicion she moves her glance down to his uniform, examining every detail she can lay her eyes upon.

Is he not German?!

Suddenly she can see differences - details about his uniform that she's never seen on a German soldier before, and she's seen her fair share of those in the past years.

But if he's not German, who is he and what is going on?

She takes a still shaky breath and looks back up into his eyes - seeing the waiting expression on his face as he's standing there in patient silence for her to say something.

"Are you-" Her voice cracks mid-sentence. It's not good. She clears her throat and tries again. "Are you German?"

All of a sudden he bursts out laughing - so loud, and somehow so dark that her eyes widen once again. She just can't decide if it's from fear again, or only surprise.

A minute or so goes by with nothing but Joe laughing - this must be one of the most hilarious things he's heard in the past couple years. That he is a German.

Then his laughter finally quietens down to slight chuckling and he speaks up once more to confirm the truth. "No, of course not," he shakes his head in amusement. One look in her eyes tells him that somehow she still has no clue about his nationality, so he opens his lips again to give an answer to her question in advance. "I'm American. Don't worry, you're not in trouble for that," Joe points back in the direction of the room with the hiding spot above his shoulder.

A loud sigh escapes her lungs, her shoulder visibly falling a bit as she slumps more into the chair. It feels like years worth of stress and nervousness have just come to an end - it's truly like an enormous stone has rolled down from her chest and shoulders. She somehow feels free again for the first time in years.

Relief completely replaces the worry and fear in her veins as all other thoughts leave her mind. She's not gonna die. At least not today.

"They're Jewish," the soldier speaks again - and it's not a question. More like a statement.

(y/n) nods, unable to say a word as she's still overwhelmed with her new feelings.

"You're hiding them?"

She just raises an eyebrow, and Joe mentally slaps himself - what a stupid question. He could've might as well just asked her the colour of the wall.

"Since when you've been hiding them?" He corrects his question.

"Ever since the whole thing has started," she answers, her voice so quiet it almost disappears in the air between them.

"Wow," Liebgott breathes out before he can stop himself. He stares at the girl in disbelief. She looks so innocent and young - she's probably one or two years younger than him. How could she pull off something such a thing? Such a dangerous and pretty reckless thing?

"Esther is my best friend, she's been ever since we were little kids, they all are like a second family to me, I've spent most of my days with them," (y/n) explains, the relief causing her to ramble and Joe - for about the first time in his life has to struggle to keep up with the German words that come flying out past her lips. "I just had to help them, you know. I couldn't just leave them here."

"Where's your own family?"

"My parents left to France to be further away from the chaos, and my brother joined the Luftwaffe, and since then I haven't heard from none of them."

"Why didn't you leave with your parents as well?" The young soldier keeps asking, moving closer to the table and sitting down on a chair on the opposite side, facing her. Pushing his M1's strap down his shoulder he places the weapon on the table, pushing it only a little further in order to calm the girl more. He knows he probably shouldn't do this - and keep Winters waiting, but he's too curious to stop himself, he has to hear the rest of her story.

"I love this town, I was born and raised here," she shrugs as if it's obvious. "But more importantly, I didn't want to leave and let innocent people like my best friend's family suffer. I wanted to stay and fight back as good as I could."

Joe subconsciously mumbles under his breath before he can stop himself - words that praise her absolute bravery, words that give away his true feelings he suddenly feels towards her - then he has to move his gaze away from her, fearing that she sees the embarrassment in his eyes. He tries hard to think of another question while also trying hard to forget the look of the half-smiling expression that took over her face just a moment before - it does nothing good for his heart.

"Did you make that hidden room yourself?" He asks in the end, thinking back to what he saw in the room.

"Oh," she giggles - and it's the prettiest sound he's heard in a very long time. "No, my father made it when me and my brother were young and often played hide and seek. I just improved it a little so they can fit in more comfortably."

Liebgott hums, not knowing how to tell her - or if he should even tell her in the first place - how absolutely super impressed she left him with every single thing she's told him and what he's seen. It's one of the craziest things he has ever heard, and he had a fair share of unbelievable stories told to him in his life. He simply couldn't even imagine how on Earth this girl could manage to do this - and not get caught. Throughout the whole war.

In that very moment he swiftly decides that he'll go and find another house for the HQ, and that he'll somehow get back to this particular one, no matter what it takes. He wants to get to know her better. He has to get to know her better.

She's the most incredible woman he's ever heard of, read about or met. She's a woman who fits in the stories of the comics he's been reading his whole life - as the protagonist, the hero. He can't leave this town without hearing more about her, seeing her face more. That would be the biggest regret of his whole life, he can already tell.

But for now, he has to leave. It wouldn't be a good idea to keep his officers waiting even longer.

He stands up, fingers reaching out to grab his M1 before looking back into her eyes. Damn, he doesn't even know her name.

"I have to head back to my company, but I'll come back later, if that's okay with you."

Her eyes are already on his, seemingly staring straight into his soul with that intensity that lays in her (y/e/c) orbs. The girl then rises to her feet - still never breaking the eye contact.

Thoughts race inside her head, and it's like an angel and a demon are sitting on each of her shoulders, one telling her to say no whilst the other trying to convince her to say yes.

What if he only wants to use her? What if he only wants to sleep with her? Maybe force her to do so, threatening her with his knowledge of the Jewish family. He might not even be who and what he says he is. How could she know?

But on the other hand, there is this feeling she has about him. A feeling that tells her that nothing she previously thought will happen. She doesn't know what it is, but it's there, right in her chest, and she can't fight it. He seems genuinely curious and impressed, and honest. And she feels a pull towards him. She wants to see him again.

In the end, the devil on her shoulder wins, and she simply nods - right before she could change her mind.

"I'm Joe," the young soldier moves around the table, one hand held out towards her.

A glance cast down and right back up to his face she takes his hand and gives it a shake, holding onto it tightly, as if only to let him know how strong she actually is.

It probably works, 'cause he raises an eyebrow, slightly tilts his head and the corners of his lips curve up into the smallest smirk she's ever seen - but it's there.

"(y/n)," she eventually answers with her own introduction.

A few seconds pass and neither has let go of the other's hand, not yet. They just stand there, staring into each other's eyes, only the small noises of them breathin breaking the silence.

Then Liebgott blinks, clears his throat, pulls his hand out from her grip and instinctively places his fingers upon his weapon hanging from his shoulder whilst nodding towards her as a gesture of saying goodbye without words.

She watches as he turns around and walks out from the room, and after a tiny, happy sigh she follows the sound of his steps.

Just as he opens the front door and moves through it is when she arrives to the hall. Joe glances back over his shoulder for one last time, offering her a small smile, then looks back ahead of him and continues his walk as if nothing has happened. None of the past dozen of minutes.

(y/n) leans against the doorframe and watches him right until he disappears in the distance with a dreamy look in her eyes.

She can't wait until he comes back again.

.::the end::.

(might write a part two if i'll have time and you'd like to read it)

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[formulax]

A Few Thoughts on Family -- Simon Nightingale

I have a “worrying” issue.

I've always had this problem. It was much worse when I was younger, and that’s when I started to keep a personal journal. Even if I wasn't completely honest with myself back then, putting my worries onto paper helped. I was writing them into a book that could be closed and put away. And... it helped me to work through my worries, in a way. Process them and organize them when they came to be too much. Thought is hardly ever simple, after all.

I've been Simon Nightingale for a month now— been myself for a month now. This quaint house has proven to be smaller than what I am used to from a home on land, of course, but the crew gave me more money than I can handle in this small town, and anyway, I’m more than happy with the decision I've chosen. It’s quiet and cozy here, and I'm living comfortably compared to life on a pirate ship.

I’m becoming part of the community. I take my walks to the library, to the market, to the Marigold household, and I've been recognized, been waved to. The librarians know me, and smile when I walk in. There is even a black cat I now feed that follows me to and from my home; company that is much appreciated.

I’ve missed this... but it's not quite the same, of course. I do not hold much social standing here, aside from being “a friend of Angel's,” which admittedly has gotten me a long way in gaining my own friends. But... well that's just it. I am a friend! Not a soldier, or a son of a naval officer. The townsfolk here dislike such people, anyhow, and I’m beginning to think I do as well.

With my newfound free time I've cataloged my experiences in the pirate world and written as much as I could about its wonders, and I’ve hit a bit of a block with it. Overwhelming myself with writing, I suppose. So I've been taking a few days to just exist in my new world, and look inwards at myself (which is something I am not accustomed to one bit).

I mention my “worrying” issue because I've been having a bit of trouble sleeping lately. When I think about Angel, Kipp, and Ezra, I start to feel that dreadful fear. They have not visited yet, and I know that they’re quite busy, but when you see someone every day for so long and then suddenly separate, it’s just... difficult. So, I am nervous. Terribly nervous. Afraid that they will never visit, that they will never return because something tragic has happened. I did ask them to send me a letter every time they stopped at a port.

It’s getting late, and I should rest, but I need to get this written down. Last night, as I was trying to sleep, I had a thought that disturbed me. I wondered if this is how my mother felt when I was away.

I did not send her many letters.

I’ve been spending time at the Marigolds’ place in the market, running errands and putting fresh fish on display for some extra money.

They told me a little bit about Angel.

They did not name him; he was left at an orphanage by his alleged parents, who we now know were Vincenzo Cielo and the (former) Guardian Mariah, with a note and the infamous amulet. The note had a vague explanation, a command to keep the baby loved and cared for, and Angel's name. The Marigolds took the child and heeded the note.

“You two’re good parents,” I said. “You care so much. How do you handle him being away? On dangerous quests, no less.”

Mrs. Marigold looked at her husband and smiled. “Our son is much too stubborn to die,” she said. They both chuckled. (They at times can be a little morbid.) “But anyway, he was in good hands with you, and he is now with Ezra and Kipp. You boys have good souls, you do.”

“He writes,” Mr. Marigold added. “When he’s able. He’ll write you. And it will be pages and pages long.”

It is past midnight, judging by the moon. I can’t sleep, and I need to get some things off my chest.

I am guilty. I will always be guilty, for the rest of my life, about leaving my mother behind as she died. I did not want to see her sick... but I did not want to see her sad either. She was often sad and it hurt my heart and I thought that there was nothing I could do to cheer her up. But somewhere deep down I knew that coming home as a Captain would make her even sadder, and that means that somewhere deep down I knew that she wanted me to quit. She was sad because of what I had become. It all seems so obvious now and it makes me so upset that I sometimes need to cry. It was a mistake to be away for so long. It was a mistake not to write her and tell her about the stars in the sky where I was. It was a mistake to disregard her just as everyone else in my family did.

She was SICK and she was SAD and she was ALONE. I feel like I KILLED her. And now I can never tell her I’m sorry, or show her how much I've changed for the better.

The black cat that has been following me around town is meowing at the window. I’m going to let her in and try again to sleep.

It’s the morning— I feel calmer than I did last night. Talking to the Marigolds about Angel got me thinking about my own parents, and... awful things just seem so much worse late at night. My thoughts got out of hand.

I... well. I did not have a tight knit family. My parents did not love each other— at least not while I was around— and my extended family was as cold as my father was. We did not talk about feelings; my parents hardly spoke to each other at all. I had no siblings, and I did not relate much to my younger cousins.

There was my mother and I, of course, but our relationship was often sabotaged, either by my father or by myself. I think he was jealous of her, of my similarities to her, and so grew to resent her. As I sought to impress my father, I began to resent her too, though I was never conscious of it, and never would have admitted it.

We were closer when I was younger. She held her ground on just a few things, one of them being my physical safety, and as a result I did not go on long trips with my father when I was a young child. I spent more time with her, then; she was my teacher, and I loved to hear her talk about her passions. She read me stories, she showed me local wildlife. We watched the stars for hours on end, and she would help me trace constellations with my finger. The world was so big, and we were so small, and she found that so magnificent.

She was the closest thing I had to a family. And I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had done things differently, but in the spirit of improving myself I know I have to own up to my mistakes, and accept them, no matter how terrible they make me feel. Life would have been so different if it had just been her and I— but that was never a possibility, and lingering in the past isn’t ideal, I know.

The thing is, I have a family now— it’s not conventional in the slightest, that’s for certain— but Angel, Kipp, even Ezra... I consider them family. I have been through so much with them, have watched them grow so much as people; and they have helped me grow, as well. They supported me at my worst, and helped me come to the decision to live like I do now. I miss them all, and it’s frightening to think that they’re out there without me, without my extra protection and guidance.

I don’t mean to sound self-centered. They can take care of themselves. It's just a matter of family. I just want to do things better this time.

I was helping the Marigolds at their shop today, and thank the Lord, a letter from Angel arrived! I just about hugged Mrs. Marigold when she handed over the one meant for me... Pages and pages long, like Mr. Marigold said.

Angel says things have been going well, but everyone is missing me. They’re headed off on another mission— Ezra reportedly had another Eye-induced dream— and they’ll head back in my direction after they’ve done that. He says he’s dying to know how I’ve been doing, and I better be missing them just as much. This is, of course, very condensed.

It is such a relief to hear from them, and I haven’t been able to stop re-reading the letter since I got it. It’s midday, and I’m in bed, the black cat sitting at my side. (She lingers in my house more often than outside now, and I don’t mind.)

Angel's last sentence to me was, “Don’t get too lost in your thoughts, Simon Nightingale— your mother would be so happy for you right now.”

I’ve never understood how he always knows exactly what to say.

[holylulusworld]

Strange Love

Request: Would you write for Dr. Strange & Reader? If yes, reader is his wife & before the accident he never respected her, even though she is a Dr like him, he belittles her, doesn't talk to her, feels ashamed. Later becoming the master, he sees her through portal that how dedicated she is & how dearly she loves him. All fluffy & maybe a passionate love making?

Pairing: Dr. Strange x Reader

Characters: Christine Palmer, Ofc

Warnings: angst, abandonment, Stephen being a douche, accidents, arranged marriage, smut, unprotected sex, comforting, fluff, remorse

A/N: Okay, this is my first-time writing smut for Dr. Strange.

“Why weren’t you at the gala with Stephen?” Christine, your best friend asks. “We were all wondering why you did not attend.” Blinking a few times, you must process what your friend just said.

“Gala, oh-yes. I had a terrible migraine and told Stephen to go alone, you know  I didn’t want to ruin his night with my stupid problems,” you lie, not meeting your friend’s eyes.

“Sorry to hear,” Christine stiffens a smile, knowing you lied again to hide Stephen did not tell you about the gala last night. “How about we have a girl’s night next weekend?”

“I don’t think you should waste your precious time, Christine. Don’t you want to become the second-best?” Your husband smirks, not sparing you a glance. Anytime you talk to one of his colleagues he acts as if you do not exist.

Stephen always gives you the feeling that he belittles you, not taking your career seriously as you are only a pediatrist to him. You love working with children, saving their life’s but to Stephen, it is not the job his wife should have chosen. 

Even though you are a doctor, had the best grades he acts as if you are not smart enough to talk to one of the neurosurgeons.

“I am better than you one day,” Christine smirks, not caring Stephen glares at her. “Even Y/N could beat you, but she chose the best job ever, saving the lives of our future.”

Stephen sneers, shaking his head he shrugs your talent off like it is a burden to hear someone talk about you and your work. 

“Do you know how I became the best, Christine,” your friend groans and you give her a weak smile knowing Stephen will not give up.

“Enlighten me, Dr. Strange, tell me your secrets,” while you mouth a goodbye to Christine she gives you as sad smile, not liking your husband ignored you again.

“Study and practice. Years of it.” Stephen muses, not recognizing you left the table minutes ago. “You should follow my example.”

“No thanks,” huffing Christine gets up to point toward the empty chair. “I don’t want to become like you, heartless and oblivious to the only person loving you, Dr. Strange. Stop treating her like she’s a liability.”

“Listen, not that this is any of your business but I'm using trans-sectioned spinal cords to stimulate neurogenesis in the central nervous system, and she puts broken legs into a cast or cures a cold,” Stephen replies coldly.

“Why did you marry her if there is no respect or love on your side, Stephen? This is ridiculous, even for you. Everyone was missing your wife last night, everyone but you.” Christine storms off.

Arranged marriage. Stephen never thought he would end up chained to the foreign woman in his bed. He never found the time or energy to get to know you better.

When his mentor, the man at his alma mater offered him the position at the hospital if he marries you, Stephen took the chance. Now years later he still got no clue who you are, and honestly, he’s not interested in finding out.

“Do you have to go to work? Do you want me to make you breakfast?” sleepily you turn around to find Stephen half-way out of the room, not answering your question. “I get it…”

Days passed without Stephen sparing you a glance. You wanted to tell him about the new position your boss offered to you.

Knowing it’s useless to even mention anything according to you or your job you keep the good news to yourself.

Usually, you would have offered to make dinner but knowing Stephen will refuse to join, you left the house to aimless walk around town.

Panicked you run through the hallway, try to find anyone who can tell you what happened to your husband. 

“Christine,” panting you run toward your friend. “What happened?”

“Stephen had an accident, it looks, bad,” she whispers, not meeting your eyes. She can hear desperate sobs leave your lips believing your husband will die. 

“No, god no, Y/N. He’s not going to die, but his hands got damaged and no one is as good as your husband.”

“He will live, anything else doesn’t matter to me,” you sniffle. Christine bites her tongue, not saying what’s on her mind.

Months spend with research; expensive experimental treatment and no results took a toll on Stephen and you. He is moody, always offended when you try to help him.

When you suggested taking the job as a professor your father offered to him Stephen threw things at you calling you things which never left his lips before. Now you barely talk to him, only make sure he eats.

Before you believed Stephen will turn toward you one day, that he will need time to get to know you better. You even believed his accident could be the chance for you to prove you will stand by his side no matter what.

Stephen had other plans…

He’s gone for months now. Stephen said something about a healer and left without looking back. You took the new job to pay the debts Stephen left before running off to find a non-existent healer.

“Y/N, Sweetheart you should think about my words. Divorce Stephen,” your father tries. “He’s nothing but a burden. Not the brilliant neurosurgeon you married.”

“I don’t care if he’s a neurosurgeon or not,” your fist slams onto the table causing your father to flinch. “I love Stephen, even if he doesn’t love me back.”

Unbeknownst by you, Stephen found the person he was looking for and so much more. He found a world and powers beyond his imagination and now, as a master he inherits the powers to open portals to see how the world has changed since he disappeared.

“Don’t be a fool, daughter,” your father sighs deeply, opening a folder to show you the number of debts you will have to pay back. “I can help you if you agree to part ways with Stephen.”

A bitter taste on your tongue you get up, toss the napkin onto the table before you turn to leave your father’s dining room. 

“Love means to not give up on a person only as he’s in a bad place, father. I will not leave Stephen even if he will never come back. I meant what I said,” taking your coat you do not turn around to not show your father your tears. “I loved him, always will, even if it’s unrequited.”

Stephen takes a deep breath watching you through one of the portals he learned to create.

He never took the time to get to know you, never saw the love burning in your heart but now, his mind and heart are wide open when he recalls all the nights you waited for him, eyes red-rimmed as you cried yourself to sleep.

“No, I haven’t heard of Stephen in months, Christine. Can we just not,” sniffling you wipe your eyes, “talk about him now? Dad wanted me to divorce my husband. I drown in debts and I can barely concentrate at work. I am close to losing my job too.”

“Y/N,” a deep voice calls your name and you drop your phone taking a step backward. “It’s me, Stephen.”

“Were you at a costume party? Is it Halloween, no…it’s too early,” blinking a few times you drink your husband's outfit in. He is wearing an odd necklace which looks like an eye. A red cape frames his body and you wonder since when Stephen wears such ‘eccentric’ clothes.

“I found the place I was looking for, Y/N,” his voice softer than you remember Stephen steps closer and you take another step backward. “All the wonders I have seen, felt, and experienced, my love.”

“Okay, Stephen,” stammering you look for your phone, fearing your husband lost his mind. “I get you were at a strange place with odd people but running around like a,” not finding a word for the costume he wears you point toward the cape.

“Magician, a master to be correct,” Stephen smiles, he really smiles, and your stomach drops, believing he got drugged. “Look,” the cape leaves his body and you suddenly feel dizzy when the fabric wraps around your body to push you into your husband’s arms. 

“I am dreaming,” falling against Stephen’s chest you lose consciousness. “You’re not here.”

“My love, how do you feel?” Stephen whispers while his cape drapes around your body. 

“Stephen, what is that thing?” scared you press your body to Stephen’s chest, shaking like a leaf. “Where were you and what’s going on?”

“It’s a long story, but don’t be afraid my love, he’ll not hurt you,” his hands gently cup your face and you wonder what Stephen is up to when his lips silence your mind. His tongue sweeps over the roof of your mouth and you whimper silently.

“Where have you been?” He is picking you up, ignoring your question. Heart racing, mind clouded you let him carefully place you onto your shared bed.

Just now your eyes land on his hands, his healed hands. “Your hands,” gasping you watch Stephen run his hands over your arms, caressing the skin with his fingertips.

“So beautiful and warm, soft and pure,” his voice lulls you into a cloud of warmth and you close your eyes, just feeling his lips touch your neck. “Can you forgive me for not seeing. For being blind for too long?”

His hands carefully open your dressing gown and you gasp, feeling his erection prominent against your thigh. Lips travel down your collarbone and you cry out when Stephen suckles one nipple into his mouth.

Sex was always like a duty to Stephen. Clean, fast, and without any passion but the man working his way down your body to press a chaste kiss to your mound could be a stranger.

“Let me take this off,” voice thick with lust now he slides your panties down your legs, groaning as your heat is at full display. “Did I ever tell you that your aura is overwhelming?”

“Aura,” gasping you watch him strip his clothes off in a hurry. Your eyes roam his body and you wonder how his hands can grip your thighs. 

Months ago, he could barely hold a fork and now he spreads your legs, holds you open to settle between your thighs.

“It’s like looking at a rainbow or something indescribable to watch you open up for me,” shuddering under Stephen’s gaze you reach out to touch him. His breathing quickens when you wrap your hand around his length to stroke him slowly. 

There is something in your husband’s eyes you never saw before – adoration, love even. He is pressing his lips to yours, as you let go of his length to slide your fingers through his hair.

“Stephen,” a broken moan leaves your lips feeling the tip slip in. Your hands grasp for anything to hold on tight when he slowly sinks into your heat. “I’ve missed you.”

“How could you miss me, the cold-hearted man ignoring you too long,” whimpering you wrap your legs around Stephen’s waist, not answering his question as the first thrust takes your breath away. “I wish that I was a better man.”

Between kisses, soft touches, and whispered words Stephen takes his time. His hips roll deliberate against yours, letting you feel his twitching length with every thrust. “Cum for be beautiful.”

“I…I can’t,” crying out you grip his shoulders, not liking the cape floats close to the bed. “He’s looking at us.”

“OUT!” Stephen yells and the cape leaves the room. “Now back to you, Y/N.”

Lips nibbling along your neck your husband hums against you with every long stroke. “Now cum for me.”

A tiny whimper leaves your lips, followed by a scream of his name when you fall, hard. Your blunt nails bite into his back feeling his warmth fill you. Another new development. Usually, Stephen used a condom, but not this time.

“You know, now I gotta pee thanks to you,” laughing at your words Stephen looks down at you, a smirk on his lips. “Doctors advice, baby.”

“You mean magic exists, just like different realities. That cape is magical and,” humming you close your eyes to process everything Stephen told you. “Now you are the protector of New York?”

“Something like that, Y/N. Do you want to meet Wong?” Humming you rest your head onto Stephen’s chest, wondering if the new man by your side will change again.

“I am not only thankful that being a master opened my mind and healed my body. It also made me see I was an awful husband and human being,” Stephen kisses your hair, smiling as you sleep peacefully. “It’s strange, the feeling of loving you but I kinda like it…”

All works Tags

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[shhh-no-ones-home]

zombie bucky barnes x reader

+++++++++ prompt: Sam calls you to help them out and when you arrive you become overwhelmed with feelings. You can't figure out why until later when Bucky takes your hand and his past flashes through your mind. He can't tell why you're crying until you snap out of your daze and hug him tightly

Song: don't fall asleep at the helm by sleeping with sirens

tag list: @cynic-spirit +++++++++ when I got the call from Sam I was a little worried about the outcome of this mission. I understood why he needed me but also we both knew the risks. but he wouldn't have called if it weren't absolutely necessary. the debriefing told me exactly how important it was and that eased my mind a little. the toll it would take on me would be a big one though, so sleeping on the plane to where he was was much needed. what I wasn't expecting though was how heavy I would feel when I finally got there. the weight that came from those around me was very intense and though I was trying to focus on the emotions of only one person it was becoming too hard to handle. at least without touching someone to hone in on them alone.

when we got out of the building it helped a little, him introducing me to his friend Bucky who was standing and waiting by the car. I shook his gloved hand and the rest was history. we sat in the car to the private airport across town in silence apart from Sam going over mission plans again. it was everything I could do to not fall asleep in the backseat. the feelings fluctuated as we wove through traffic but I was really just waiting for the next plane ride. that way i could have a break; no one there except the three of us and the crew.

when we got there however, nothing really changed. even as we got in the air, the night sky peaking in through the open windows. i was still feeling a deepness around me and part of me had an idea of who it was but i couldn't tell for sure without touching either of them. but that could wait. what i needed right now was to sleep again. I couldn't handle the toll anymore.

so I sat on the jet with my eyes closed. I told them I was going to nap but god help me if I couldn't fall asleep. I was so overwhelmed it was hard to focus on anything outside of what I was feeling. there was a pang in my heart the more silence that crept into the jet. I knew it couldn't be Sam that was making me feel this way but it could be anyone else here. I just sighed, sinking further into the seat and trying my best to let go. then I heard:

"so, what's her deal? why did you call her?"

from Bucky. there was a short silence and I knew Sam was choosing his words wisely.

"her powers are sort of unique. she can feel other peoples emotions, their struggles, their reasonings. I didn't know anyone better to help us with this. she can walk into a room and immediately know everyone without ever even speaking to them."

I heard Bucky's chair squeak as he shifted uncomfortably in it.

"and this will help because?"

"we'll be able to find exactly who we need to find. and if worst comes to worst and they don't give us the information we need, she can get it."

I squeezed my eyes a little tighter. my body was feeling more anxious than sad now. and I thought my emotions were bad. another silence fell over the plane though and it wasn't long before the feeling left and I fell asleep.

what could have been only a few hours in and i was jolted awake in a cold sweat. there was so much fear running through my veins i wanted to vomit. i breathed deeply as i looked around the darkness of the jet. Sam was fast asleep in the chair next to me like he was before. but looking around i didn't see Bucky. so i got up. everything in me was telling me to go back to bed, to leave it alone, to try to forget what just happened. but i needed to know if it was him. as i made my way to the back of the jet where the bathroom was he emerged, wiping his hand on his jeans. he just looked at me with a stern look on his face before side stepping me, putting his gloves back on.

everything in me wanted to say something. to touch him and see what it was that made him feel this way. and to know if he always felt like this because i was sure it was killing me. and i couldn't project onto him without him telling me he wanted me to, thats just how it worked. so i couldn't help him any. and i wanted to so badly. maybe it would help him sleep even just a little bit. but i guess i wasn't in a position to offer. instead i just went to the bathroom and when i was done went back to my seat and stared out the window until the sun began to peer over the mountains.

°°°°°°°°° the mission was a long one but we did it. all information was secured and now it was break time. we made it back home, or at least to Sam's home, and it was good to see Sarah and the boys again. they were so excited to see all of us, Cass and AJ both a little more excited to see Bucky again than me but that was okay. as far as i was concerned it was just relieving to be around happy people who didn't drain me. Sam knew i needed that more than anything after the mission we just finished.

we sat around the porch and chatted for a bit, the boys playing in the yard, pretending to be the new captain America and winter soldier. Sam and Sarah had made their way inside now, cleaning up after lunch and talking about god knows what. i was focusing on the feelings radiating off Bucky, sat next to me on the porch swing, swaying slowly. it was comfortable, the breeze whirling around us and rustling the trees.

"you did good."

Bucky said out of nowhere and i looked to him. the feeling shifted.

"uh thanks, it was nice working with you."

he nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry."

he said and i raised a brow.

"for what?"

he cleared his throat.

"for draining you."

he said a little guilty and i sighed.

"can i tell you something buck?"

he hummed, looking over me now.

"none of it was your fault."

he looked to the ground quickly, picking at his finger tips.

"hey, no, look at me. please."

i said and he did as told.

"i feel everything. i cant escape that. no matter how much i try to control it. i have to deal with other peoples demons. and though its true I've never felt anything like the weight you carry, I can tell that you are stronger than anyone I've ever had the pleasure of meeting and I haven't even touched you to know why."

we just kind of stared at each other for a moment.

"i never asked for any of this but i somehow still feel like its my fault. but then people say I'm a hero and i feel like i have to keep going. to earn that title. cause it definitely doesn't feel like i deserve it."

i think i understood a little bit of that more now. because i had been there. people exploited me for y powers and now here i was, working with captain fricking America.

"It's okay to fall behind, to not want to be apart of this anymore. But it's also okay to feel like you owe it to yourself or to others."

he tilted his head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

i shrugged.

"You never signed up for this, I can feel it in the way the air shifts around you. i can see through part of the veil. its telling me who you were. You were supposed to die, alone in the cold for someone you held close to you. But you didn't and now you feel betrayed... bitter... or maybe lost?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

he said quickly, shifting and looking to the ground again, and i sighed.

"James I can't see exact events just by being near someone, but the way I feel when I walk into a room with you? Everything changes. Yeah sometimes it's good, and I'm so glad you've found a family in Sam, but you're still that kid from Brooklyn trying to keep the little guy out of trouble."

his head snapped in my direction.

"you could give me your hand but it might be proving me right."

he relaxed a little bit.

"Who knows, maybe I'll always be that guy, but I've changed so much I'm not entirely sure he's still in there."

i looked ahead of us at Cass and aj still running around the yard, pretending to be Sam and Bucky.

"He must be, or else why would something so innocent try to emulate it?"

he glanced over the yard at them play fighting before slipping his gloves off. i knew he kept them on because of me. Sam had told me he usually took them off when he was with him. maybe this was the beginning of something trustworthy.

"Sam told me you can help."

i watched as he opened and closed his hand a few times.

"if you let me in i can."

his gaze shifted between my eyes before holding his hand out.

"i feel like I've tried everything else in the book."

he said softly. i nodded once before taking his hand in mine. in a moment his whole life flashed before my eyes. his childhood was beautiful, him and Steve playing in the school yard and having sleep overs. his teens troubled but what else would you expect from the doom of a war. then he was being experimented on, rescued, and fighting alongside the howling commandos. then i finally understood where the cold came from. there was a fight on a train, he fell so far only to be stolen and experimented on. i could feel tears slipping down my cheeks as i stared ahead of us. it all washed over me in large waves, drowning me out so the only thing left was him.

he was poked and prodded at, ripped apart and put back together. everything he was was taken out, thrown in a blender, and then something else was forced back in. he was still a good man despite what they did to him. despite putting him on ice for years until they needed him to fulfill their evil wishes. he said he remembered all of them and i knew now he wasn't kidding. he fully remembered everything he ever did and then some. it was heart breaking. and then there was Wakanda. i could feel my heart swell in my chest at the relief of the words disappearing from his subconscious.

there was years in a hut in a field, him being his own person. there was the fight with thanos and a large gap of darkness. then there was Steve leaving and how hard that was before finally coming to a slow stop at what had happened between the flag smashers situation and where they were now. it was everything and nothing all at once and it hurt like hell. i knew he was getting better, the therapy helped but he didn't think it was. there were other methods that worked much better, like the love he found here.

"you okay?"

he asked softly and i nodded, realizing how tightly i was holding his hand. there were tears in my eyes and i could feel the wet on my face as the breeze continued to flow around. when i finally got the clarity to look at him he seemed nervous. hell he felt it too and now so did i.

"a hundred years is a lot to share with a person."

i said before blinking a few more tears out and looking at him. he pulled his hand out of mine and sat forward again.

"im sorry i shouldn't have asked."

he said quickly.

"i knew it would be too much."

i shook my head and grabbed his chin gently for him to look at me.

"you don't owe anyone an apology. i want to help you. even if its getting you through tonight with no nightmares."

his breathing hitched in his throat for a moment as he scanned my face.

"you could do that?"

he asked and i nodded, pulling him into a hug. he was tense at first but this wasn't something he had the luxury of having in a while and he slowly melted into my touch. it made me want to cry again and i knew in that moment i needed this as much as he did. and who knew, maybe we could help each other. this was it so i held him tighter.

"bucky, for you i could do anything."

[bakubitch-minusultra]

Not Alone: Chapter Nine

-> an apocalyptic series with bnha characters but without quirks because im the writer and i can do whatever the fuck i want :P bruh its 3:45 in the morning and i have a softball game in six hours but fuck sleep right? This is the l o n g e s t chapter ive written and it took hours i was writing it while listening to true crime podcasts lol new characters unlocked

-> Word Count: 6.9k haha n i c e

-> Warnings: pervy doods, blood, sexual assault, violence, guns

-> Taglist: @5sosfckss @laudthingcat [if u wanna be added lmk <3]

The sunlight coming in the window blinded Y/n as she woke up disoriented. She shivered from the cold breeze that came from down the hall. She noticed she was lying on Kirishima still and smiled, thinking about the night before. But stopped when she noticed that his shirt was soaked in cold sweat.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, “No. No.” She pushed him and his body compressed against her push, but he didn’t stir.

“Y/n what is it?” Mina came running in the room.

Kirishima sputtered and snorted. He rolled over knocking Y/n off and onto the floor. She started to laugh, “He’s alive. I thought… He’s cold. Oh my god he’s alive. His fever broke. He’s going to live.” Y/n jumped up and grabbed the next vial of medication.

Mina rushed to his side and felt his face, “Oh fuck, I was scared. I thought for sure he was gone.” Mina hugged her when she came back. Mina smelt like Hades and Y/n smirked. They had traded sleeping partners for the night.

Y/n hugged her back, but noticed the difference in their bodies. Mina was melded into Y/n, squeezing her where as Y/n was rigid.

They gave him his next shot and pulled the bandages off his leg. The red lines had receded but the wound still looked red and angry. She knew they weren’t out of the danger zone, but she felt good knowing that they were one step closer.

He slept the entire day and Mina and Y/n hung out. They took turns keeping watch and playing with Hades. Y/n could see Hades’s affinity towards Mina getting stronger. She knew that even she felt different. She was getting closer to Mina and Kirishima.

“Y/n what’s for dinner?”

Y/n shrugged down at Mina from the window of the barn, “I can go kill a bird.”

Mina nodded, “Alright. I’ll start the fire.”

They sealed up the house completely and decided to cook in the bunker. It was gross and sweaty with a fire down there, but it made perfect sense. No smell escaped out into the wind.

She climbed down with her bow and quiver and headed across the grass. She slipped into the forest, but instead of finding a tree to climb she froze. She smelled them before she could see or hear them. She slid against the tree and waited to figure out where the smell was coming from.

“It was rude of you to leave without the escort we offered.”

Y/n turned to the voice but something smacked her in the forehead and everything went black.

Xxxx

“Wake up.” Pain overwhelmed her as she opened one of her eyes. She saw bars in front of her face. “Please wake up.”

In the muted firelight she could see a girl poking her with a stick. It made a small cut on her arm, but that wasn’t where the pain was coming from. She closed her eyes tightly and then opened them again. It was dark, the firelight licked across the dark metal bars of her cage. She turned to the girl.

“Where are we?”

“The others have us.” The girl said. Y/n’s stomach fell into her bowels. Her heartbeat and breath quickened. She pushed the door to the cage with her foot. Her boots were gone.

“Where are we specifically?”

The girl frowned at Y/n, “What?”

“Our location.”

The girl shrugged. She was skinny and filthy. She made Y/n think about Mina, which made her panic. She wondered if they knew where Mina and Kirishima were. She saw her bow and quiver leaning against the tree near her.

“There she is.”

Y/n looked up at the filthy scumbag who had chased her into town. He was grinning again. He seemed very proud of himself. “You’re a pretty girl. What’s your name? I bet it’s something pretty like Jessica or Stephanie or Grace.” Y/n licked her lips and put a finger to the source of her pain. He winced as she touched the red sticky spot. ��Sorry ‘bout that. I had to surprise you. Bet it hurts doesn’t it.” He kneeled on the ground in front of her cage. “Wanna tell me about how you got outta town?”

Y/n gulped.

He rattled the cage suddenly and started laughing at her horrified expression. “Jesus you aren’t mute are you? I like it when you girls scream.” He pointed to the girl next to Y/n. “I guess we can make her scream for you.”

The girl shied away from the bars and curled into a small ball. Y/n wanted him dead. Right now.

He pointed at Y/n again, “You’re going to fetch us a good price. I know it.”

Fear rocked Y/n. She didn’t have a plan. That was one of her rules. Her plans where capture was a possibility had never included a cage. She always thought the girls were grabbed and dragged to trucks.

He walked back to the fire and howled into the night air. She watched as he unzipped his pants and peed on the fire.

“Jesus Christ that’s disgusting you fucker.” The hot steam rose from the fire, polluting the air around it. A large group of men started to bitch and complain. Y/n looked at the girl who had a disgusted look on her face.

“I don’t know about you but I don’t want that inside me.” Y/n gasped at her language. The girl grinned at her, “Names Jirou.”

“I’m Y/n.” Y/n looked around for Mina and Kirishima but she didn’t see them anywhere. “How old are you, Jirou?” She asked softly.

Jirou spat on the ground outside of her bars, “Sixteen.” She was malnourished. She would be made to work the farms. She wouldn’t be a breeder.

Y/n wouldn’t let either of them end up that way. She saw a small silver thing on the ground and looked at Jirou.

“Poke that stick this way again.”

She slipped her skinny arm through the bars and passed it to Y/n. Y/n looked back at the men. They were getting drunk and the fire was starting to dim. She flicked at the silver thing and dragged it back to her with several small movements. It was an old rusty nail with a silver tip. She reached her fingers through the bars and grabbed it.

“How old are you?” Jirou asked, watching the men.

“Nineteen.”

“You look older.”

Y/n wanted to frown at her, but the nail in her hands felt too amazing to bother. She passed Jirou the nail, “Pick your lock.”

She eyed it smiling, “Wow you’re good.” She reached her hands through the bars. Jirou made funny faces and then Y/n heard the clunk of the lock. She picked the lock faster than Y/n did. Y/n had only ever picked a couple.

She nodded, “Mom says we have to do whatever it takes to not be a breeder. I will die before I go there.” Her words reminded Y/n of the girl in the back of the truck who screamed. She felt sick. She was even more determined to save Jirou. The rusty nail clanked in the lock. “Want me to do it?”

Y/n gave her a look, “They’ll notice your tiny arm slipping through to my cage.” She fumbled with it again. “Dipshit is coming back.” She pulled her arm in and sat on the nail.

He grinned at Y/n, “I think I wanna taste the merchandise before I give it away.” He pulled a key out of his pants and licked his lips. He got down on the ground in front of her cage and stuck the key in. “You’re gonna like this.”

Y/n felt like throwing up.

He opened the door and reached in lightning fast. His huge hand grabbed her thin wrist and clamped down. He dragged her from the cage. She kicked at him but he was too strong. He pinned her to the ground on her stomach and pulled her hair, whispering into her ear, “Scream and I slit your throat.” He let go of her hair with force and shoved her face into the pine needles and dirt. Y/n coughed and choked. Her eyes flickered at Jirou.

“Don’t do this in front of her,” Y/n begged.

He shoved her face in the pine needles again, “She needs educating. Where you two are going, you’ll both be needing to know how to make a man happy. Think of me as your teacher.”

Y/n felt him grind himself against her and threw up. She couldn’t stop herself. She didn;t have anything in her stomach but bile filled her mouth. She spat it to the side of her face, scared that he would rub her face in it.

He pulled her pants down and she felt his hands on her underwear. She wanted to scream and fight but her hands were pinned. If she screamed, he’d kill her. She made the snap decision that death would be better than this and opened her mouth to scream, only to feel him put all his weight on her.

“Shhh Y/n. Don’t scream. We need to go now. Before they find him.”

Tears sprung from her eyes as she looked back and saw his open eyes still staring at her. The rusty nail stuck out only a little bit from his head, next to his eye. Blood trickled down his face.

Jirou heaved him off of Y/n quietly. The fire was only twenty feet from them and she could see that the group of men had dwindled. They must have gone to sleep. Y/n pushed herself up and grabbed her pants. She saw her knife in his boot and took it, holding it tightly. She wanted to stab him so bad.

Jirou grabbed her hand and pointed to the woods.

They walk hunched over. Y/n grabbed her boy and quiver and followed Jirou into the forest. They ran fast, even though they were barefoot. She recognized the forest after a few moments. Even in the dark she knew where they were.

“Oh shit.”

Y/n stopped after hearing Jirou speak. She was preparing for the worst but instead it was the best. She saw yellow eyes glowing in the dark. She quickly dropped to her knees, ignoring the branches that cut her skin. His paws were around her neck within seconds. His warm breath was in her hair. She started to cry and Hades held her like a mother would a child, and she elt soothed.

“He’s yours?”

Y/n nodded through the tears, “Hades.”

“He’s a big dog.”

Y/n smiled, “He’s a wolf. A tundra wolf.”

“Well we better get moving before they find us.”

Y/n stood and ran toward the farmhouse. She knew it was through the woods and not far. They could hide there until the men were gone. Her brain couldn’t seem to make her own survival important. She needed to know if Kirishima and Mina were safe. Jirou ran as fast as Y/n did. Her footsteps were a whisper in the grass beside Y/n. Y/n burted through the door. The house was dark and silent.

“Mina? Kirishima?” The living room was empty. The blankets were gone. She didn’t know where to go. She didn’t know where Mina and Kirishima would have gone. She ran down the basement steps into the bunker. Nothing was there. She ran back up the stairs, “We need to go hide. They’re gone. They might be looking for me.”

“Who?”

“My friends.” The words felt funny in her mouth.

Y/n grabbed Jirou’s sweaty fingers in the dark and pulled her back out to the barn. They slipped inside the dark of the barn. She dropped to her knees in the hay and felt for the hatch. It had hay glued on top of it. It was impossible to find even in the bright of day. She only found it because it was open when she arrived.

“Hurry climb down here.”

Hades jumped down into the whole like he had before many times. Jirou felt for Y/n in the dark and then the hatch. Y/n climbed down after her and pulled the huge hatch back over the hole.

Y/n felt around in the silence for a stool. She sat and suddenly the pain in her feet was overwhelming. She knew they had been cut.

“Did your feet get cut?”

Jirou was closer than Y/n thought, she whispered right in Y/n’s face, “No. My mom made us walk and run in the woods barefoot all the time. They always take the shoes.”

“Smart.”

“Yeah mom was a warden at a maximum security prison before. She says she knows all the worst things people can do and she knows why they do it.”

Y/n shivered at the thought.

They don’t hear voices or any noises. Eventually Y/n fell asleep on the wooden floor against the warm fur of Hades. Jirou slept against her. Y/n’s feet pounded too hard for her to get a good nights sleep.

Xxxx

“It’s been five days Y/n. He walks to the same spot and makes weird noises. I have a hunting hound. He does the same thing when he wants me to follow him. We need to get following him in the woods.” Jirou had not stopped talking for five days. Mom this and Mom that. Y/n didn’t know what to do to make her quiet. She didn’t take Y/n’s silence as a hint. “Yup that wolf is trying to tell us the way to go to find them. Are your feet better?”

Y/n looked at the cuts on the bottom and nodded, “They have scabs.” She rubbed salve into the bottoms of her feet and pull her socks over the scabs. She pulled on the boots she had stored in the farmhouse bunker ages ago.

Jirou threw a huge bone for Hades. He ran to get it and chewed it in the field, “Not so sharp is he? My hound brings it back.”

Y/n looked at the bone and grimaced, “Is that a human bone?”

Jirou shrugged, “Does it matter?”

Hades picked up the long thin bone and walked toward the same spot in the field like he had for the past five days and whined.

“Okay let’s follow him then.” Y/n slung on her backpack and looked back at the farmhouse. She had left a note in the bunker under the barn. Mina knew it was her favorite hiding place. Y/n’s heart hurt and she decided to not look behind her. She didn;t run through the field. Hades trotted along like a real dog. He didn’t wait at the meeting tree.

Nothing was the same.

She opened the cabin door and suddenly her life felt lost. She knew she would regret opening that stupid door and helping Mina. But she never imagined her regret would be being separated from them.

Her heart hurt when she thought about the kisses she shared with Kirishima. Her stomach hurt when she thought about Mina being taken.

Hades picked up the pace as they entered the woods.She reached out and brushed her fingers along the meeting tree. Instead of going the way home to the cabin he cut a hard left and they climbed a different hill.

“So then when I was twelve she says she wants to try to go to the city. So we get all dressed up and I mean bathed and spiffy. We walk all the way to the city but they don’t just let us in. We have to go through a bunch of tests and other nonsense. The city was brand new. It looked like nothing I’ve ever seen. Anyway they come to us in the bright white clothes and make me take all my brand new clean clothes off. They burned them. Mom was mad then. My aunt failed the diabetes test they gave us and so if we wanted to go into the city we would have to leave her behind. No diabetes in the city. Mom said they could shove that up their asses. So we left the city. My other aunt got grabbed there. Mom thinks it was because she tested healthy they told the bad ones to take her to the breeder farms. They drove up in their trucks and held guns on us. They dragged her into the truck. She screamed and reached for us. Mom never moved. She just watched. I never saw my aunt again.” Her story was the story of thousands of women.

“I’ve seen them taken too. They always leave the kids behind.”

Jirou put a finger to her lips, “Shh you hear that?”

Y/n listened. All she heard was her own heartbeat and it dawned on her that as Jirou chatted on, she listened to the forest the way Y/n does. Y/n doesn’t hear them. No birds, no squirrels. She stopped walking. She pulled an arrow instantly and held the bow ready.

A branch broke to the side of them. She swung the bow with the arrow trembling in her hands. A huge black bear groaned and walked past them to the ridge below them. Hades growled and crouched. He looked at Y/n but she shook her head.

They didn’t turn their backs on it. They walked up the hill backwards until the bear was far enough away. Hades’s dark hackles stayed up until he started sniffing the ground again. He wandered in a circle for a bit.

“So then I was saying to Mom… hey look I think he has a smell. Not totally useless is he?”

Y/n glared at her.

Jirou put her hands up, “What? He’s no hound but I think he’s got the scent.”

They followed him through the thick woods until he suddenly stopped waking. They hiked for hours and that was the most animated she had seen him. He growled in his low town and crawled along the forest floor on his belly. They follow him low to the ground. Y/n was scanning the forest but she saw nothing.

“There.” Jirou pointed to a man wearing camouflage high up in a tree. He held a sniper rifle. There was no way they wouldn’t get around him. She pulled her bow out but Jirou stopped her hand and pointed to a man in another tree just behind him.

“We wait for dark,” Jirou whispered.

Y/n looked at Jirou and frowned, “Where’s your home?”

Her brown eyes look haunted. “It’s back closer to the town by the big river. Mom was taken when they were looking for some girl. They searched all the houses and found my aunt and mom hiding. They didn’t find me. I snuck out the back and over the pointy log wall. The others snatched me outside the gates. The hunters were long gone though, so they were gonna wait for them to come back.”

“It was me,” the words slipped from Y/n’s mouth. Jirou crouched in some larger bush and sat, waiting for nightfall. Y/n spoke after a while. She felt awkward in Jirou’s silence. She was never silent. “I can help you find your mom.”

“She never got taken.”

“Where’d she go?”

“Knowing mom she went to hell. She was a mean and spiteful woman. Full of piss is what my aunt said.”

It hit Y/n like a club to the face, “She died?”

Jirou glanced at her, “I told you what she always said. You do whatever it takes to not go there. They woulda put her in the fields anyway. Her insides were injured having me. She couldn’t have more kids.”

Y/n wanted to cry. Jirou had a mother. She had someone. Y/n felt like it was her fault somehow.

“I’m really sorry Jirou. Do you have anywhere you can go? Do you have other people?”

Jirou shook her head, “Nope. It was me, mom and my aunt.”

Y/n decided she wouldn’t ever leave her. No matter what she wouldn’t leave her.

The day faded to night slowly. Spring was further along and the days were longer. The cool air was still fresh and crisp but the sun was getting warmer.

Hades slept again Y/n and Jirou whittled a small piece of wood. She passed the finished product to Y/n. She didn’t know what it was.

“It’s a rook.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow.

“For chess,” she said it like Y/n was an idiot.

“The game?”

Jirou nodded and smiled, “I’m making the pieces for a board. I guess I have to start over. Mine were in our village.”

Y/n looked confused, “You have a village?”

Jirou shook her head, “Nope. Had. The others came last month and burned it to the ground.”

“Life’s hard, Jirou. I’m convinced the god that everyone talked about before, hates us.”

Jirou’s eyes hardened and she pulled her dark blue hair back from her face, “Don’t ever say that. No matter what we have to believe that he’s going to help us. The evil is us.”

Hades jumped but it was too late. As she heard the branch snap behind her she saw a blak hood go over Jirou’s face. Y/n jumped but the guns were on her.

“What’ve got here?” The man standing before Y/n was grinning. He held a rifle to her face.

Hades was ready to attack but Y/n put her hand out, “No Hades. No.” He looked at her face confused. She could see it in her eyes. She shook her head and then looked at the man. “We’ll walk with you but you can’t put that over my head. If he can’t see my eyes he’s going to lose it and kill at least one of you.”

He nodded, “You walk with the wolf. I’ll kill him if I have to.” He removed the hood from Jirou who looked at Hades. Y/n gave her a sharp look. She knew the desperation on Jirou’s face was trying to over take, Y/n felt the same way. But they couldn’t win the fight. They could die like her mom.

One of the other guys with a gun smirked at Y/n. He was young and bold looking. He spoke to Y/n and she could hear the smile on his face, “I’d ask if you were spies for the other but you’re girls. What girls would help them out? So that leaves me with only one assumption,” He grinned and nudged Y/n, “You’re lookin for a date.”

Y/n doesn’t speak.

Jirou snorted, “You wish. No we’re looking for our friends. The other had us but we got away.” Y/n shot her a dirty look and Jirou scowled. “Don’t give me that look Y/n. Mom says we need to remember some ways of the world before an manners is one of the things we all seem to forget about.”

The man with the gun grinned, “Her mom sounds like the kind of girl we are always looking for. Warm my bed, bake my bread and say please and thank you like a lady should.”

Jirou shoved him, “My mom never warmed no man’s bed. She wasn't no lady. She was a survivor.” The man shoved Jirou back and Y/n caught her.

“Easy kid.”

The leader got in Y/n’s face with his gun. Y/n looked into his dark red eyes angrily, “Her mom just died creating a diversion for her to escape the hunters.” He made a face that surprised Y/n, remorseful.

“I’m sorry Jirou, is it? Never speak ill of the dead, unless they’re the monsters who started all of this.” He held his hands out.”

Jirou sniffed and wiped her nose on her arm, “It’s nothing. She died the way she wanted.” Y/n knew the pain Jirou felt and the strength she hid behind. The leader's eyes told her that he did too.

Hades nudged against her. He was nervous and whined. She looked as they entered a huge camp. The fires were lit making the woods smoky and smelled of food. Her mouth watered as her stomach grumbled. She didn’t the last time she actually ate.

“New recruits?” A man asked, looking Y/n up and down and nodded his head. Hades lunged at him. Y/n seriously thought the wolf could read minds, and that man’s mind was not pure. He jumped back, “Holy shit is that a wolf?”

Y/n laughed, she couldn’t help herself. Hades was hovering over him snarling. The men who had escorted them laughed at the fallen men and Y/n called him, “Hades.”

He snarled once more and ran to Y/n’s side. He stood tall and proud with his chest out. He snarled at everyone.

“You have my friends here don’t you?”

The man with the smile frowned, “Who?”

“A girl and a guy. They’re really good friends.”

His eyes narrowed, “No one’s come recently. Except you.”

“Don’t lie to me. He’s tall with red hair and red eyes. He has an injury on his leg. She’s younger and about my size. She has pink hair and black eyes. They’re really close.”

He shook his head, “Look we don’t have anyone here. We don’t take prisoners.”

Y/n looked at the guns surrounding them and raised her eyebrows.

He laughed, “You were spying on us and have a huge wolf as a pet.”

Y/n didn’t laugh. She wanted Kirishima and Mina,”

Jirou gave Y/n a look, “Why would he bring us here if they’re not here?”

Y/n shrugged, “The smell of food.”

The guy with the gun in her face pointed at Hades, “Keep him under control and we can drop the weapons.”

Y/n patted Hades on the head and scratched his ears. He shook his head once. He was still agitated,

The camp was like nothing Y/n had ever seen. It reminded her of the band of merry men Robin Hood joined in the forest.

She heard a noise she had never heard before. She turned her head when she saw where it came from. A small boy with white blond hair ran past her. He had his arms stretched out. He latched onto Hades, making her jump to his rescue but Hades looked at her and lowered her body for the child.

“Andy no, Not the wolf. Oh my god I’m so sorry.” A dark haired woman walked up to Y/n. She looked older, maybe thirty. She was dressed in a long gathered skirt and a blouse. She was pretty in a simple way. She looked at Jirou and smiled motherly. “We need to get you cleaned up and get some food in that belly. You look like you must be starved.” She looked at the man next to Y/n, “Watch him for me while I get her taken care of?”

The man nodded and kneeled next to the boy who was shrieking and hugging her wolf. Hades panted, contented.

“His name’s Hades. Be careful, okay Andy.” The man put a hand out for Hades to sniff.

Jirou gave her a pleading look as she was getting dragged off. Y/n wanted to reach for her but she didn’t. The woman with the black hair had dark doe eyes that instantly made Y/n feel comfortable.

Y/n looked around and noticed that there were fires everywhere. Small tents lined the forest and lean-tos were staggered amongst them. She had never seen anything like it. Clothes hung from lines in the trees. The canopy provided the perfect shelter. She felt like she had entered a sacred site. Everyone was busting about, as if on a mission.

“This is like the Shire.”

“You’ve read The Hobbit?”

Her neck almost snapped as she looked back him,”Yeah, have you?”

He nodded and patted Hades once more.

“Wolfie wolfie wolfie.” The white haired angel cries into Hades’s dark fur. He looked down with the hug and struggled to escape.

“He’s done.”

The man pulled the boy off, making him make an ungodly noise, “Nooo Bakugo. I wanna hug the wolfie. I wanna wolfie. Miiiine.”

Y/n gasped, “Bakugo?” The eyes and the smile. He looked almost exactly how they described him. “Mina and Kirishima’s friend Bakugo?”

His face dropped, “Mina and Kirishima? My friends?” Y/n nodded. His face grew savage. He let go of the boy and gripped her arm harshly. He shouted in her face, “Where are they?”

Y/n pointed, “I thought they were here.”

Hades didn’t like the struggle going on. He lept in between them and knocked Bakugo to the ground. He had him by the scruff of his shirt and was making a noise she had never heard before.

“Hades.”

He ignored Y/n. She sat on the ground and made a whistle sound and Hades tugged once more on his shirt before backing away. He turned and sauntered towards her. He was overwhelmed. She was overwhelmed. He curls onto her lap and as she stroked his ears while he trembled.

Bakugo stood up and walked toward Y/n. Hades growled and snarled in her lap. She looked up at Bakugo.

“I wouldn’t move if I were you.”

His dark eyes played in the dim light of dusk, “They’re alive?”

“Last time I saw them.”

His jaw tenses up.

Y/n turned to see a rugged man walk up to where they were, “Bakugo I need to go over some things with you.”

The white haired boy saw the man and started his tirade all over again. He was stomping his feet and pointing at Hades who trembled. She wrapped her arms around him and glared at the young boy. She hated children.

“Stop that you little brat. You’ll get us all killed,” Y/n hissed at him. The noise would no doubt draw the others or worse.

Bakugo laughed at her but his expression was lost.

Jirou walked over to Y/n in a clean dress with patches. Her hair was slicked back and wet. She was holding a platter of sorts covered in meat and something white.

“Y/n thith ith cheeth. You have to have thum.” Her mouth was near bursting as she spoke. Y/n grimaced watching her stuff her mouth. She sat beside Hades and Y/n. He raised his face instantly and started eating from Jirou’s plate.

Hades was making his weird wolf noise that he made when he was happy. It almost sounded like a cat purring but lower and deeper inside of him.

The platter was empty and Y/n had had nothing. She couldn’t stop looking up at Bakugo, who was talking to another man. He glanced at Y/n every now and then. She could tell that he wanted to talk to her.

“The people I’m looking for, Mina and Kirishima, Bakugo is their friend.” She pointed to him subtly.

Jirou raised an eyebrow, “You think that’s why Hades brought us here?”

Y/n shrugged, “Maybe. I think he smelled the food.”

Jirou grinned with food in her teeth, “Thank god for Hades and his belly.”

“I’m worried about where they are though. If they’re not here, where could they have gone?”

“The farms,” Jirou said nonchalantly, even though Y/n knew that Jirou feared the idea of it whether he had met them or not.

Y/n’s skin prickled thinking about them in the farms. Mina was old enough to be put to ‘work’ and Kirishima was strong. He would be made to work hard labor.

Y/n looked up and saw people eyeballing them. They pretended to be working near them, but they watched Hades as he ate. It made Y/n smile. If only they know how much of a pussycat he was.

She felt fingers bite into her skin, “Wolfie mine!” He shouted in her face. The little brat was back. She hated him. His greedy little fingers were wiping an orange paste on her shirt. She leaned away from him.

“Don’t look so horrified. He’s just a kid.” Bakugo picked the little monster up and carried him back to the doe eyed lady. Y/n felt sorry for her. She thought that her life must be horrid. Y/n looked at the orange stain mixed with debris smeared across her sleeve

She glanced up at Bakugo, “Is there somewhere I can wash up?”

He nodded at the dark haired lady, “Mary can take you.”

Mary smiled, “Followed me.” She passes the evil beast with the white hair to a man next to her. Y/n looked at Jirou who nodded.

“Just don’t get roped into the dress and them brushing your hair. It’s a bad experience. Hades is fine here with me.”

Y/n walked away from Hades, she knew that he would see the fear in her eyes and follow. She didn’t want him anywhere near the little monster

“You’ve never seen a child before have you?” Mary asked sweetly as they walked past a grouping of tents and lean-tos. She led her down a steep narrow dirt path.

“Not in over ten years. Just the ones left behind when the mom’s get taken. I don’t hang around long enough to get to the know them though.”

“That’s horrible. You leave little kids alone?”

Y/n didn’t care if she judged her. She was alive, “I was a kid too Mary. I barely took care of myself and Hades.”

Mary crossed her arms, “He gets tired once it’s after six. He really is a sweet boy. Once you get to know him, you’ll love him.”

She tried not to be rude but spoke her mind, “He will get you killed with noises like that. The infected love noisy things that lead to food.”

Mary looked back aghast, “We never leave camp. None of the children do.”

“So you have an agreement with the infected and the others that they stay out of your camp so the kids can be as noisy as they want?” Her sarcasm was filled with more sarcasm.

Mary laughed, “You really don’t have any social skills do you

She shrugged, “I’ve made it this long out there, alone.”

Mary looked shocked, “How long have you been alone.”

Y/n sighed, “Since the beginning.”

The walls surrounding the water were high and rocky. Nothing could get to the massive lagoon of crystal clear dark green water. The only visible path was the one she was standing on. She pulled her boots and socks off. Her scabs stung on the dirt and rocks. She pulled down her pants and ripped off her shirt. She ran down the remainder of the path. She ran onto the huge flat rocks that made a platform and dived in. The cold ripped through her instantly but she had never felt this clean. She remembered her baths as a small kid. They were filled with bubbles and hard plastic mermaids. This was much better. The freshness of the water made her feel alive in a good way. She lied on her back and floated.

She looked over at Mary as she jumped off the rock. Y/n blushed as she entered the water with a big splash. Mary had been completely naked. Y/n had never seen another naked lady before.

Suddenly a noise ripped through the air. She turned as several people jumped into the water. The waves and splashes were taking over the lagoon.

“Oh my god it’s freezing.” Y/n saw a small blonde girl who was a little older than she was next to her. Her teeth chattered and suddenly Y/n realized that her teeth were chattering too.

In a split second a hand pushed Y/n underwater. She sputtered and coughed as she forced her head above the water.

“Hey are you okay,” a guy asked, Y/n assumed it was the one who had pushed her under. Everyone was staring at her and she ran.

She ran faster to get away from their voices. She felt like a freak. She made her way to the nearest fire. She was alone, until she felt the warm breath at her hip. His cold nose felt warm against her bare skin. Y/n went to go grab her dirty clothes but Mary was there, holding a pile.

“Here,” she said. She was dripping wet too. They stood looking at each other in the firelight. Mary was so beautiful in her soaked dress with the water dripping from her.

“Thanks,” Y/n took the pile and pulled on the shirt and pants over her soaked underwear. She pulled her bra off once the shirt was on and covered her.

Mary took it in her hand, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

Mary leaned in and kissed Y/n on the cheek softly, “Y/n it’s okay. You’re safe here. No infection and no others and no military. We take care of each other.” She took Y/n’s soaking bra and pile of dirty clothes and left. Y/n stood by the fire and realized she had kissed her. She had liked that Mary kissed her. It was a nice feeling. Not nice the way Kirishima’s was. Hers was sweet and soft. It made her happy.

She looked down at Hades, who had turned his face in the light of the fire and whined. She patted his head and looked to where Mary walked. She dropped Y/n’s clothes into a basket and pointed to a bright orange glow in the woods across the camp. “Come to the fire. We sing and play guitar.”

Y/n pulled on her dry clothes and wrapped her arms around herself. Hades and Y/n followed Mary through the woods to where a large bonfire is burning. She could hear the music faintly in the crackle of the flames and embers. It was folk music, but better. She hadn’t heard music since before. She felt like an outsider but the people at the fire smiled at her. Someone shoved over on the log in front of her to make space. Hades watched her sit in a crowd. He didn’t know how to respond to it and whined a little.

Heat waves rose from the huge fire making it hard to see across where the musicians sre. The logs were built higher than the people sitting. She could make out a man with a small guitar. He was old and had a beard. A man started singing with the small guitars. His voice was incredible. It was raspy and sweet. Y/n was in a trance. She sat and closed her eyes. The music brought back something soft and sweet that she never knew she was missing. The sweet voice sent shivers down her spine and her throat was thick with unfelt emotions. They sat in a huge circle, warmed by the fire and the raw human emotions inside of the song. It was about love and sacrifice.

This was the greatest moment of her life. She had experienced nothing like this, even before. Time passed, she didn’t know how much. Songs were sung. Whiskey was passed and drank and swayed her body like everyone else. Her guard was not only lowered but completely destroyed.

In the light Y/n could see Mary. She sang and laughed and drank. Her eyes sparkled in the orange glow.

Slowly people trickled away from the fire. Hades had crept up and was lying at her feet. The pile of logs and lumber on the fire had burned down to ash and in the embers she had seen something she never expected. Bakugo was the singer with the haunting voice that had lit her up. He felt the music, she could see that. His eyes were closed and his fingers gently stroked the guitar. He finished the song and Y/n couldn’t help but see him differently.

He walked over to where she was sitting and sat down beside her.

“You’re a good singer.”

“We need to talk.”

Sitting beside him made her insides crawl.. He didn’t look sweet and soft like Mary did. He looked annoyed and angry with her. She felt intimidated by him. He didn’t seem like the goof Mina described. He was intense.

“I know you.”

His long legs seemed huge compared to hers. His were thick and strong looking. His face was handsome like Kirishima’s, but more commanding. She wanted to listen to him for some reason. She felt like he could keep her safe, like he did with everyone else there.

“So where are they?”

She shook her head and tried not to watch his mouth. “I don’t know. They were at my farmhouse last time I saw them?”

“How did thg look?

Y/n gulped, “Great. Kirishima was hurt a bit but I got him medicine. They were fine when I left though.”

“Where did you meet them?

“First my cabin,” She stated the story at the beginning and tried to not stare at his lips as he processed what she had to say. She wanted him to sing to her more.

--

im so tired holy fuck

[bubbletimestories]

Bosom bonus chapter (Destiel fic I guess)

Hello !

This fic is a bonus chapter of Bosom that you can find here if you want ^^

I lost the chapter long ago and had to write it again so it's not very polished but it's cute <3 I hope you're gonna like it.

Themes : pregnancy, hypnosis, mention of blood, Destiel, love, family, desire, fatherhood, Dean and Castiel becoming a real non-platonic family

Little summary of Bosom : Sam and Dean went into a village where men fell pregnant of little girls growing fast, parasites that provoke a huge love and protective instinct in the father and everybody around. The brothers have left the town but Dean is possibly pregnant.

*********************************

(On the road again)

The two brothers set off again on the roads, as they always did, without a specific destination except for adventure. This sentence was very cliché, but I keep it. This little break had been most enjoyable, but now it was time to go back in search of new monsters to kill, new threats to contain. Except that a new case doesn't appear every day.

Sat in the passenger seat, Sam was bored like a dead rat. He watched the landscape go by, a perpetual succession of trees, while thinking that by dint of being stuck with the same person and the same old rock tapes, he was going to go mad eventually. It was probably the nicest option available to him, anyway. It was always better than "dead in excruciating pain", "tortured by Lucifer" or "employed in a fast food restaurant whose mascot is a clown". All in these gloomy thoughts, however, the hunter noticed an incongruous detail: since the time they had been running on the roads, Dean had not yet been speeding. He who was so inclined to make the Impala's engine roar had been very reasonable since leaving the small town. It was both surprising and ... appreciable. But the young man didn't really have time to think about it, because one of the many cellphones started ringing, a sign that they were about to resume service. A few sentences later, they were on their way to a new investigation, such as Scooby-Doo and his faithful companion in the green t-shirt.

- Pee break!

Dean braked hard without warning, his brother almost crashing into the dashboard and choking off a slew of curses as he straightened up. The driver had already gone into the thickets, holding back from laughing, for he had, of course, been looting on purpose. He wouldn't really be him if he didn't play pranks on his dear Sammy. So it was very proud of himself that he settled down behind a bush to… relieve more than his conscience. Knowing full well that his brother would look away in embarrassment, the young man began to hiss pointedly while slowly lifting the edge of his t-shirt. Knowing that he was out of sight, the Winchester finally took the time to examine the slight bulge in his abdomen, smiling as he saw a small glow appear on the surface.

- You are the weirdest food poisoning I've ever seen.

It had been two days since he realized something was wrong and it was already very late compared to other fathers. But come to think of it, Dean's body had gone through so many states (human, vampire, demon) that it took so much more for his body to panic. And then he'd come back from the dead so many times that he wasn't sure he was quite human anymore. Regardless, the hunter wasn't overly worried about not being alone, but he made sure Sam didn't know. It was his little secret.

After putting his belt back on, the young man got back into the car and turned to his brother with a big smile before throwing himself on him, putting his hands on his cheeks.

- A little hug Sammy? - DEAN! You're disgusting, you haven't even washed your hands! - We share everything, brother.

The younger man's insults responded to the older laughter, and a few hours later they arrived in front of an old, dark wooden building as night fell on the horizon. A hunter was waiting for them, anonymous since he will likely die in the fight, and quickly informed them that he had wanted to face the bloodthirsty ghost lurking in the house alone, but had not succeeded. The ghost's body was hidden in one of the walls so they were going to have to play with mace to be able to burn that bastard. As usual, Sam let the other two chat while he got the materials ready, did the final research needed, before jumping into the mouth of the wolf. Ammunition loaded with salt, lighter, iron bar, it was necessary to prepare for all eventualities. Finally, they made their way inside the dark building, their heavy boots cracking the blackish floor.

- We'll take care of the first floor. Sammy, go and inspect the second, we'll go faster.

With a nod, the hunters agreed and parted, soon rattling their hammers against the walls, tearing the silence of the night. They only had a short time before the entity that haunted these places manifested itself, which is why they busied themselves as best they could, sweat soon running down their backs. As Dean wiggled his arms made hard by the effort, he noticed a gaunt form appearing a few feet away from him, that of a black-toothed man staring at him, stroking the handle of a long razor. That's it, the hunt could begin in earnest. Without waiting, the Winchester raised his weapon and fired without taking the time to aim, showing absolutely no fear at the grimacing specter. The first bullet missed its mark, but the second hit the apparition in the head and he disappeared with a furious cry, alas for a short time. It was necessary to move faster, to search every corner in search of the corpse. Sam must have been alerted by the gunshots, his brother raised his voice to tell him that everything was fine, but the movement needed to be speeded up.

One by one, the partitions were gutted, revealing themselves empty as time went on. Fatigue began to win over the hunters who hit with less regularity. Through his plaid shirt, the eldest Winchester brushed his stomach for a brief moment, time to catch his breath. He did not notice until too late the drop in temperature which formed a thick mist as it left his lips and when he turned, it was to meet the perverse gaze of the phantom who was advancing quietly, his long blade outstretched towards the young man.

- And shit ...

Far from being paralyzed with fear, Dean raised his weapon and tried to shoot the murderous specter again, but the latter was faster, the razor cutting through the air to bite into the shirt and especially the young man's hand who stepped back, hitting the bulkhead. A mad laugh rose in the throat of the dead man whose dark eyes sparkled with bloodthirsty madness. Disarmed, his adversary now appeared to him as a prey, a superb victim to be cut up. The latter knew he was cornered and could not think of anything other than his imminent death. What was going to become of his baby? The young man suddenly felt his insides twist and he fell to his knees uncomprehendingly, his mind brutally clouded with pain as the ghost's blade left a deep mark in the wall where the Winchester was.

His partner, whose name doesn't matter, had witnessed the whole scene without really deciding what to do. But the moment Dean narrowly dodged, the anonymous felt a fierce conviction set his brain ablaze, permeating his bones with unheard-of strength that screamed "save him." Save him ”. He knew then exactly what to do, the solution was now crystal clear and he walked up to the specter without a hint of fear. There was no room for fear in his head, only the deep, overwhelming desire to protect the kneeling man and what he was wearing. He rushed at the ghost, an iron bar wielded in his clenched fist like a modern version of Braveheart.

Blood splashed on Dean's shoes as the pain in his guts disappeared, which finally brought him back to reality. He had time to make out the specter before it vanished and a body collapsed heavily on the rotten floor. From the slit throat a scarlet stream escaped, but the hunter's face expressed a proud serenity, as if he had accomplished his mission and died fulfilled. Called upon by screams, Sam ran down the stairs to find the gruesome spectacle. Fortunately, his brother was unharmed, though deeply shocked. He helped him up, being careful not to slip into the pool of blood, two bodies were expected to be burned that night, but they had no time to feel sorry for themselves.

- I couldn't find anything up there and neither can you, it must be in the cellar. - A corpse stashed in the basement, it's so obvious that I wonder why we didn't think about it earlier.

It was with these common sense words that the Winchesters descended into the foundations of the old building to find the corpse and end the grueling night. Turning their backs, they resumed their masses to shatter the plaster of the walls, raising clouds of dust making them cough, stinging their eyes. In the opaque atmosphere soon looms the murderous specter, his livid face completely distorted with hatred and thirst for blood. Rather than stealthily approach to slaughter the hunters, the ghost let out a hoarse cry that caught the attention of its attackers.

"Keep looking, I'll take care of him," Sam cried, brandishing his hammer with one hand, the other firmly grasping a gun loaded with salt.

The iron end of the sledgehammer sliced through the air, but did not touch the apparition, which encouraged the younger hunter to increase his efforts. Although he didn’t yet know where his desire to protect his brother really came from, Sam already had enough of the motivation between brotherly love and the survival instinct. In his back, the beatings had resumed, made more frequent by the situation of ambient stress. The specter's attention kept returning to Dean for some obscure reason, and the other hunter took the opportunity to empty his magazine, causing the attacker to disappear until he was without ammunition.

- Dean! - I'm almost there !

The mass slammed down into yet another wall which revealed a piece of yellowish skull, they were finally nearing their mark. Without bothering to dig out the bones any more, Dean sprinkled them with oil and salt before setting them on fire. The ghost let out a final angry howl before being consumed, calm falling abruptly as the cry of rage still echoed in the ears of the Winchesters. They had won. Yet good humor did not light up their dust-blackened features, for they had yet another body to remove. So it wasn't until early morning that they were able to lean against the Impala to catch their breath, their faces drawn with fatigue.

- Let's go back to sleep, I'm exhausted. - Who are you saying that to…

As always, they had to wash their faces, find a motel to be able to collapse on one of the shabby beds smelling musty but since the time they walked the roads, the boys would probably have had more trouble sleeping. in sheets scented with lavender. Exhausted, Dean sat down to remove his shoes without thinking about the condition of his clothes, a precaution that wouldn't have been wasted judging by his brother's surprised look. Without him explaining it yet, it seemed to the tallest of the Winchesters that a faint glow emanated from the torn shirt. Driven by curiosity, he walked over and parted the fabric to reveal the terrible secret of his elder brother who put his hands on his abdomen, reflexively.

- I can explain everything, Sammy, you see ... - How long have you known?

Instead of his usual disapproving look, Sam's face lit up in surprise as he brushed the slight bump where a unique treasure lurked. Embarrassed, the father-to-be whispered half-heartedly that he must have been pregnant for five days. Five days ... and he hadn't realized it! To say that his brother received such a gift ... it was more luck than they had had in the past ten years and yet they had experienced miracles. The long-haired giant looked up at Dean jokingly.

- Hopefully not all of your children are bloodthirsty monsters.

Somewhat reassured by the reaction of his younger brother, the young man softened and they went to bed in a good mood after this perilous mission. Once rested, they decided to go for something to eat, on the one hand because eating is a vital need, on the other hand to celebrate Dean's pregnancy. Sitting on a tired bench, the latter consulted the menu with the utmost seriousness until a waitress came to take the order.

- The daily special for me, please. Dean, a big burger? - Yes, I'm ravenously hungry ... Although no, the salad. Or the burger? I crave a burger badly, I could devour eight of them, with big fries, but I still have to take care of my body and my health and the salad seems like a much healthier choice, especially now. But I really want meat and cheese, something fatty. I do not know what to choose !

With disconcerting rapidity, the hunter sank into a deep anguish to burst into tears under the stunned gaze of the waitress who did not know at all what to do or what to say. Even Sam, who was always quick to invent an excuse to get them out of any situation, was dumbfounded by such a spectacle. He eventually recovered and mumbled that his brother would have a burger with green salad, giving the waitress the opportunity to run away without asking for her rest. Dean calmed down as quickly as he had panicked and the rest of the meal went off normally, if we omit the curious looks around.

In the days that followed, the two boys decided it was best for the future dad to rest in the bunker until the end of his pregnancy, the life he usually led was not at all suitable. Even if that meant that Sam was going on a mission alone, it didn't bother the giant who kept giving news regularly. Eight or ten days after their departure from the village, the eldest brother received a visit from his dearest friend, the angel Castiel, who was obviously not up to date with the latest news. Knowing the angel's anxious nature, Dean preferred to remain silent and chat as if nothing had happened, not without admiring the shy but sincere face of the brunette. Castiel spoke with his usual seriousness about Heaven, about what was going on in the supernatural world and then, shyly dodging the hunter's gaze, he pulled a box out of a large plastic bag.

- I brought some pie, I thought you'd like it.

Indeed, the sight of the delicious pastry covered with shiny cherries was enough to make your mouth water, the young man had not eaten pie for weeks and he had to contain himself with great difficulty not to swallow it up. Still, he wasn't the only one who enjoyed the dessert and after a few bites, the little being in his belly began to express its enthusiasm by stirring. Nothing to do with the delicate brushing of human fetuses, it bounces with the force of a rubber ball, snatching an exclamation from his father. He couldn't deny it, either for appetite or discretion, Dean laughed helplessly, all the more so when he saw his friend's incomprehension.

- The baby is a big pie lover, too, and she thanks you, I think.

Illustrating his words, he lifted his shirt to reveal his rounded and shiny stomach, still all smiles as if after a good joke. Castiel, on the other hand, wasn't laughing at all. Instead, he jumped up, staring at the bump as if it were the Devil himself. He had never heard of such a phenomenon, and his default mechanism was fear. Coming into something he didn't know was new enough that the angel panicked.

- Dean, what happened to you? What's in your stomach? - It's called a baby, Gabriel must have mentioned it to you in passing.

The joke had no effect on the divine being who continued to stare at the stomach with fear and anger, too powerful to be subjected to the influence exerted by these creatures around. Obviously, Dean was not in his normal state, he harbored a dangerous parasite and it would inevitably end in chaos and death. Feverish, Castiel explained his point of view, encountering the jovial relaxation of the hunter who suspected that the news would be difficult to swallow. He let the angel pour holy water on his abdomen, squeeze a silver blade there, recite a few words in strange languages. Then, he took advantage that his friend was kneeling in front of him to take his face in his hands.

- You think too much, you didn't even congratulate me. - Now is not the time to laugh, Dean, this thing is growing, probably at full speed, we don't have time to ...

Castiel's warning was cut short, muffled under a teasing kiss that stirred the celestial entity to his depths, annihilating his thoughts in a breath, a squeeze. The shock paralyzed him and the hunter took the opportunity to prolong the embrace of their lips as long as possible before pulling back as if nothing had happened, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. The poor angel was completely confused, unable to continue to be worried or angry. So he vowed to watch Dean to monitor the progress of this pregnancy and find out whether or not he was right to take a dim view of it. As he left the bunker that day, he couldn't help but bring his hand to his lips, still feeling the heat on his mouth, the heady sensation of the kiss. He was to learn later that the new condition of Winchester made him very… affectionate. The hugs, the teasing looks sure made the angel blush from ear to ear, but it was nothing compared to the fit of madness when the belly started to draw more strongly. Grateful to his mate for bringing him fries, Dean threw himself on his neck without warning, a move to which the prudish and delicate Castiel did not know how to respond other than by awkwardly pulling away. The hunter concluded that he was undesirable, too bloated for the angel to look at him, and sulked in his room for long hours.

That put aside, Dean enjoyed the quietness of the bunker to go about his business and marveled more and more every day at the evolution of his body and of what was inside. He who had taken so long to realize the treasure he was carrying could only think of that, walking barefoot through the silent halls talking to his child. Besides, he was far from being a carrier father like the others, he was much stronger, much richer than ordinary humans and the entity at the center of his life could only be special too. Imperceptibly, the two beings changed, sublimated with each heartbeat, to achieve a degree of perfection that the first goddess would never have hoped for for her kind.

One day like any other, Castiel arrived for a visit and the hunter almost ran up to jump into the arms of his friend who was still very surprised (and moved) by this sign of affection so spontaneous. Hris blue pupils rested on the body with shapes hardly concealed by a loose shirt buttoned up to the collar, the radiant face, the sparkling eyes, the smiling and sublime mouth... There emanated from all his being a warm joy which finished disturbing the angel with a too human heart. Although what he felt did not depend on the fetal pheromones, he harbored a deep desire to stay with the Winchester, for all eternity.

- If you only knew how happy I am to see you ...

Dean approached his friend and put a hand on his cheek before capturing his lips in a kiss that softened to hot, catching the breath of the young man who felt himself respond to the hug, his own hand sliding behind the masculine back so as not to let him slip away. When he felt the tip of a tongue tickle his mouth, Castiel was electrified, but just as he was about to indulge himself a little more, the tasty lips parted from his. A stifled protest escaped him and he remained petrified, still vibrating from this intimate and far too short exchange. The infamous tempter smirked innocently, looking down at the bump under his shirt.

- She is happy too, we missed you. Very much.

With slow movements, he took the angel's hand and rested it on the outstretched flannel, appreciating to feel him caress his belly, greet the little being it contained. Even if it was not the first time that Castiel had the opportunity to visit his friend and see his fulfillment, it was always a great moment to have this intimacy, without fearing the interested gaze of a Sammy who did not had no illusions about the duo. His hand resting on the brunette's, Dean watched him staring at his swollen abdomen with that shyness all his own. He put words to his own emotion.

- To think that it's been two weeks already… it's happening at full speed. You will see, she has become very restless.

The brunette quickly looked up at the young father, worried about losing himself in their intense green and blushed. He waited only a few seconds, his palm resting against the warm fabric, before feeling a jerk against his fingers, followed by another as if the baby wanted to rest her hand against his. He whispered to himself:

- I would like to see her grow up...

The tender tone of his voice made Dean want to kiss him again, but instead he took his hand and laughed.

- You better be there to help me! On the other hand, I am a little tired, it bothers you if we continue to chat in my room, I will lie down a bit.

Maybe Dean had an ulterior motive, at least the cherub had none and he nodded as he followed the hunter down the halls, their hands still entwined even when the future father stretched out on his mattress with a sigh of relief: without being painful, the belly began to weigh heavily. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Castiel watched his friend slowly undo the buttons of his collar, descending along his finely chiseled chest ... Finally, the young man parted the flannel to proudly expose his more than rounded belly radiating lightly in the quiet of the room. It might sound strange, but the angel found his companion magnificent in gentleness and fragility, a million miles from his usual manly and confident demeanor. He immediately liked both sides, but for the first time he was not ashamed of such a thought. In the half-light an intimate atmosphere created that put the angel at ease, as if inside a soothing cocoon. Dean's pregnancy had allowed the two men to find themselves far from the violence and danger that constituted their daily life, without threat to eliminate, without a deadly shadow to hover over their heads. In the calm of the bunker, they had then been able to meet again, to simply be together and that was enough for the happiness of the divine being. Obviously, he knew things wouldn't last (they never lasted) and that they would soon return to their dark and tense daily lives. But he had decided to worry about it later.

The father-to-be eyed his friend fondly, detailing the locks falling on his forehead, the line of his jaw and his cheekbones that would soon turn pink. Embarrassing Castiel had always been one of the hunter's favorite pastimes, but he had never yet admitted how much he loved to see the blush rising to the young man's cheeks, that candor that then stood out on his face as if he had not been a millennial and heavenly being, but a shy teenager. Dean lifted the angelic hand and brought it to his lips before resting it on his blossoming lap with an encouraging smile.

- Talk to her. She recognizes your voice ...

Dean knew full well that his friend would refuse at first, there was only to see his blue eyes rounded with a mixture of joy and worry, his hand trembling slightly at the contact of the plump belly that fascinated him. But the hunter also knew that he could get anything from the angel and that he would not refuse him for such a tiny request. Shy and embarrassed as he was, the young man wanted to bond with this child, it showed on his face. Castiel finally nodded and took off his overcoat to be more comfortable, then resting his hand between the hunter's and the bulging surface. Through the thin skin, a delicate form curled up against the offered palm as if to say hello, a bewitching glow emanating from the fetus.

- Uh ... hello, little girl?

If the two friends could have heard the baby, they would have heard a crystal clear sound expressing simple and pure joy. Fortunately, the little being had other ways of making herself understood and she began to radiate a bright orange, imprinting her shape on one place of the belly and then appearing at the other end of the rounded abdomen, bouncing all over the place. with an enthusiasm that took her father's breath away. Fearing that she would hurt the hunter, Castiel put his two hands on either side of his stomach to calm the overly restless little angel.

- Be good and don't hurt your father.

Immediately the shaking ceased, to the delight of Dean who took a deep breath and laughed, amused by the baby's overreaction, but also by how quickly the latter had obeyed the angel. The certainty that he had the two dearest beings near him (sorry Sam) moved the young man who slipped green eyes filled with sweetness towards Castiel. He rested his rough palm against the beloved cheek, enjoying the touch as he glided lightly up the warm neck to stroke the jawline with the tip of his thumb.

- You see ! A child always recognizes the voice of their parents. - Oh Dean…

The time that flowed like a long trickle of honey came to a standstill as they looked at each other, losing themselves in pale eyes imagining an idyllic, slightly cliched, but incredibly alluring future. The small heat ball continued to form a bump against the hand of the angel, this tiny creature that gathered humans and legendary beings around them. By her mere presence, she had transfigured Dean, given him back a peace and happiness he never thought he would ever achieve and just for that, the angel loved this child. To think that he had wanted to destroy it, to make it disappear from the body of the hunter when he discovered it… Then he had fallen under the spell of this innocent, indistinct form, which made the Winchester smile. He had fallen under the spell of this quiet, simple life, where the man he loved embraced him without embarrassment or reason, where he no longer felt ashamed to feel for his companion more than a brotherly friendship.

- I… I'm sorry I misjudged you. Stay warm for a while longer to be able to grow taller. I'm looking forward to meet you.

Without really realizing it, the young man had leaned down to rest his cheek against the taut skin, the tips of his fingers moving back and forth in imprecise shapes on the thin, sensitive flesh that shivered slightly. Touched by so much tenderness, Dean closed his eyes and began to stroke the mass of dark hair, concentrating on his sensations, on the angel's gestures against his deliciously numb body. This was what he had dreamed of without ever perceiving it clearly, what he no longer believed he deserved after all this time hunting, torturing and killing. Castiel observed the treasure buried in his friend, studied its almost translucent chest, the magical light which moved on its surface in a fragile and bewitching ballet. The young man straightened up and put his lips on the bulge, kissing this unborn child to whom he already owed so much. He began to deposit cuddly kisses along the dark line crossing the belly and the creature began to radiate with joy, changing from amber to a soft pink, from a delicate red to a sparkling gold, extending its light and its warmth even in the bones of its wearer who was at the height of joy, his limbs subtly illuminated from within. The whole thing was so beautiful that Castiel felt a bubble burst inside him, a flood of feelings that fear could no longer hold back. Suddenly straightening up, he spoke without thinking, but did not regret his words, for they came from the heart and had long waited to be released.

- I want that with you, I want to have a child who would be ours. I want… I want… I want to be with you, Dean.

The man opened his eyes again and was silent for several seconds, staring silently at the angel who, if he realized what he had just confessed, couldn't manage to look away or feel embarrassed. Finally, the hunter's face relaxed into a beaming smile and he pulled the cherub close to him with a burst of laughter.

- Cas... Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas, Cas... it took a long time!

Even as he spoke quietly, his hoarse voice reflected his emotion and he thought of Sammy, his comments and knowing looks, from the time he had been expecting this. But deep down, he didn't care about his brother, being a pregnant man, or having denied the obvious for so long: he was happy. He hugged the angel tighter against his heart and the angel let it go, putting a possessive arm across the muscular chest without being able to believe his luck. Of course, there were all those kisses, those special moments for several days, but Castiel only saw it as a game, a way for the father-to-be to have fun. But in his arms, he couldn't doubt anymore, not when he felt the tender kiss Dean placed on his forehead, whispering:

- Me too, I want you and forever. I can't think of a better father for this child. We're going to be a family and we'll have another, and another. I love you, Cas.

It was a promise of the future and there needed no sign for the two lovers to decide to sign this pact with a kiss, their lips joining with a timid tenderness to quickly become pressing and feverish. Strangely, it was Castiel who proved to be the greediest, propping himself up on one elbow to extend the carnal embrace, leaning over the hunter until they had to catch their breath. Eyes sparkling with love and mischief, they hugged and when the angel's shirt fell to the floor, his fiery mouth descending down Dean's throat, it was time for the other Winchester to return to the bunker with as much noise as possible.

The day of deliverance finally arrived, life couldn't be reduced to hanging out in the bunker, eating whipped cream with Castiel or laughing stupidly because he couldn't see his feet, Dean was impatient for his child to come out of this big belly to be able to really meet her. He realized how lucky he was, not only to carry life, but to be able to do so without a problem. Unlike previous dads, his features weren't emaciated, he didn't feel particularly tired or weak. However, when the first contractions arrived, he found himself like all the others, on his back breathing hard. The pain was bearable but for how long? Sam had just been warned but it would take him several hours to get back, his brother didn't have that much time ahead of him. Already, the surface of his swollen stomach was moving frantically, lighting up in shades of warm tones to express the urgency of the expulsion. With his hand tightly wrapped around a large knife, the Winchester was ready to do his Caesarean himself but couldn't help the fear surface. Could he survive to meet his daughter?

- Dean, I heard you praying and I made it as fast as I could ...

Castiel suddenly appeared at his side, prayed for his hand and rounded his eyes, feeling his tremble. The great hunter who had faced Death in person, the Devil and the whole of Heaven was afraid. Gently, he wiped his forehead already soaked in sweat, that simple gesture sufficient to appease Dean who gave him a teasing look. Before screaming when the thing that was hiding inside him began to tear his insides to see the light of day. The time for uncertainty was over, the child had to be brought out quickly, without instruments or care, on the carpet of an old bunker. His blue eyes suddenly serious, the angel caught the distraught and pained gaze of his lover, speaking in a surprisingly calm voice.

- I won't let you die, Dean. Neither you nor our child.

They concluded this promise with a silent nod before the young man's world was darkened with blood and pain like he had never felt before.

***

The clock struck the hour but no one bothered to count the strokes, it didn't matter at all. Lying in a pool of blood, Dean stroked his daughter's little head, feeling her warmth against his bare chest. He felt great, which was not the case with Castiel who was catching his breath, still nauseous after all the efforts to keep the man he loved alive and then heal his wounds. Now they could enjoy a well-deserved rest, their fingers intertwined and hearts in unison, a real family.

[morgana-ren]

Salted Ground

Here have a little overly dramatic, purple prose 1k short I wrote for Kylo Ren while staring at the ceiling last night.

Warnings: Kidnapping, graphic depictions of violence, sorta implied noncon and assault, general obsession and nastiness. 

Rating: Probably E, cause you know, it’s me. 

His coming is heralded by darkness. 

A ship so large it blots out the suns, casting an ominous shadow over the village you had come to call home. An eerie silence falls over the encampment; the calm before the storm builds anticipation as the black ship haunts the skies above you. Few have seen it, but all know of it. A weaponized omen of death, prophetic in its arrival.

First Order ships are a common sight in the galaxy, but none such as this one. Those not entombed safely within the metal walls often don’t live to tell the tale. A grand jewel on the crown to signify his rule. His Finalizer. 

He had found you once again. 

He doesn’t long allow you to dwell on the destruction you’ve hand delivered to the inhabitants of the planet. Manmade fire spits from the underbelly of the craft and his army spews forth from the pods that follow. Mechanized voices bark out orders and civilians, no, friends spill into the streets in a blind panic. The familiar sound of blasters firing couples alongside the shrill screams of your neighbors. Their sorrowful wails carve a hollow home in your stomach and you know their cries are the settlement’s death rattle.

There was no chance for them. If you didn’t run, there would be no chance for you either. 

The people here would die needlessly, never knowing it was you who ushered the First Order to their doorstep. The weight of your guilt drags you down as you bolt into the forests, pressure building behind your eyes as you fumble over the lifeless corpse of a kindly woman with whom you used to trade herbs. Survival carries you forward but gut wrenching culpability compels you to take one last look at the swan song composed in your honor. 

Thick, black plumes of smoke billow from the huts and pollute the heavens. The cacophony of cries and terror never seems to fade, even as your feet carry you further and further into the dense fauna that lines the forest. Bodies fall lifeless to the ground in the town center as the troopers fire at will and without reason. This was not a negotiation. This was a massacre. 

This was to prove a point. 

‘I’ll follow you to the ends of the galaxy.’ He had told you once. ‘I’ll annihilate anything that stands in my way.’ 

His mask had betrayed nothing, no flicker of emotion from behind the vocoder and yet even then you had known he meant it. He spoke the words as if they were pure and simple fact. The bruises he left behind on your delicate flesh meant nothing, he had already branded his ownership of you deeper than you could hope to heal. If you would leave, then he would follow, death and misery trailing his footsteps. Any planet you set foot on in your desperation to claw yourself from his clutches would become fuel for his fire. He would scorch the ground around you, pry you from the burning soil with his own hands only to wrap his fingers even tighter around your neck. 

And now he has found you again. 

Your feet pound the dirt, tear blotted eyes switching back and forth between the carnage behind you and the path leading deep into the forest. You can hear the shouts of the stormtroopers fanning the area and the leaves and twigs crunching underfoot as you stumble through the thickening shrubbery. The screaming has stopped, but the fires still burn. The smell of ash and scorched flesh lies heavy in the air, clogging your nostrils and mixing the painful lump in your throat with sick. 

Dodging vines and logs and driven purely on instinct, you push yourself forward until your chest clenches and your lungs convulse for breath, heart threatening to pound out from your chest. The muscles in your legs twitch and ache, your mind too lost in adrenaline to keep track of how long you’ve been running. The intense pain in your side doubles you over against a nearby tree, clutching at your ribs with trembling fingers. 

You can’t see the towers of smoke anymore, but it doesn’t sear the memory from your mind. Not from this home. Not from the one before. The stench of death is the same no matter the location. Death that with you walked hand in hand and wrapped its arms around you and squeezed until you couldn’t breathe unless it allowed you.

The same embodiment of death that was closing in on you now.

Your throat constricts as you think on all the roads that led you here, and how many bodies littered the pathway. His obsession destroys everything that dares to get close to you, and no matter where you run, no matter where you hide, he salts the ground around you and kills any chance you might have had to bloom somewhere new without his thorns tearing into your flesh. Every time you plant your seed, he poisons the soil and everything else your roots might find. 

The weight of your past crashes through the walls of the present and every sin in your history clouds your lungs until the air falls short in your chest. Every breath you draw, no matter how deep, doesn’t stop the onset of claustrophobia; it boils and churns in your gut and pounds against your temples until you collapse against a tree trunk, unable to run another foot.

Between the overwhelming nausea and the dizziness that turns your world upside down, you can hear the troopers fan the forests around you. All you can manage to do is pull your knees tighter to your chest and duck your head into your legs in hopes that they don’t see you. 

If they see you, you hope they mistake you for a civilian and shoot you. Anything is better than going back to him. 

You close your eyes, quiet your thoughts and your mind, try to will away the Earth shattering panic that so trembles your body. Like some remnant of biological instinctive fear, you can practically feel him closing in, as if you can sense him in the same way he’s sensing you. Something deep in your gut tells you that the footfall that approaches is not that of a lowly grunt, but of the Supreme Leader himself. 

You refuse to look but you can’t block out the sound of squelching leather as he kneels by you, and though you brace yourself for a blow, it never comes. Only the gentle tug of gloved fingertips digging beneath the cut of your chin, coaxing your head forward toward the source of your seemingly ever present misery. Though you resist him, he seems unbothered. Perhaps even bored. 

“Don’t be angry with me.” He whispers, baritone voice just as clear as in your nightmares. “I warned you this would happen.” 

There’s no need to voice your thoughts. You know he can hear them regardless. He’ll store each and every one away in his lockbox mind, waiting for the precise time he can wield them against you. He’ll tolerate your impudence, if only for a moment. It will only be punished on the rare occasion he can find no other reason. 

His thumb strokes your soggy cheek, even as you shake your head to will him off. It’s a mockery of affection, one he does solely to insult you. The sobs that rack your spine elicit no sympathy from him. You’re not foolish enough to believe that there’s any semblance of humanity hidden beneath his armor. He has proven time and time again that there is no antidote to his venom. 

He sits with you quietly, waiting for the moment when your little tantrum runs out of steam. When it seems as though you’ve finally run yourself ragged, he’s more forceful in bringing you up from your knees. 

“Come now. I’m tired of this.” 

And you’ll follow him through the destruction, cinder and sinew staining the skin beneath your feet, so calloused from running so long only to be dragged back to your gilded cage. You’ll trail behind him as he ascends the ramp to his ship, knowing countless blasters are trained on your pathetic form but none would dare fire. 

You’re not that lucky. 

Kylo Ren has taught you many things. He’s taught you pain. He’s taught you sorrow. But above all, he’s taught you that there are some fates that are worse than death, and yours is at his side. 

Whether you want it or not.

[marmolady]

The New Taylor: Part 1

READ PART 2 HERE

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC

Summary: (Endless Ending).  Saving the world takes a lot out of a person. For Taylor, growing into her new self beyond La Huerta can only happen as fast as her exhausted body will allow her....

Word Count: 5541

Tagging:   @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr,  @greengroove

______

The light of the rising sun filtered through the thin curtains of Estela’s childhood bedroom, gently rousing Taylor from her slumber. She grumbled softly, nuzzling deeper into the pillow, and snuggling into her wife’s chest and belly. Somehow, she could just never get enough sleep. It was as if her body’s batteries were still relearning the art of recharging, some three?-- four now, weeks after Vaanu’s energy departed her. In exchange for looking forward to a lifetime of waking up in Estela’s arms, a little tiredness was a small price to pay.Some days, though, it felt like an insurmountable hurdle.

Full lips brushed Taylor’s cheek and jaw, whispers of kisses. How could she not smile? Her eyes opened to that beautiful, scarred face. “Mm… morning, babe.”

Estela beamed. It was hard not to when she had her arms around a miracle. Back home with her tio, the promise of a happy future was tangible, a hope that she could just about believe in.

“Good morning, hermosa.” She nibbled the lobe of Taylor’s ear. “Did you sleep better?”

Taylor yawned noisily, and took her time stretching out her body, enjoying the press of her back against her lover.

“Better, yeah.”

Nightmares had been an ongoing problem for Taylor for about as long as she could remember. Every now and then she’d have stretches where she couldn’t even seem to close her eyes without being bombarded. Images of her friends’ deaths… dying in a thousand different ways. The worst, though, the worst by far, was a memory of her own; Estela’s eyes going dull as she took a last, rattling breath, Taylor cradling her in blood-soaked arms. It haunted her in sleep; the feel of blood on her hands so horrifyingly real, usually waking her with a violent shiver up her spine.

“Mmmm…” she turned to press a kiss to Estela’s lips. “I’ll take every good night of sleep I can get. You sleep okay?”

Estela’s face was soft with affection. Her own nights’ sleep had been badly impacted by the traumatic period of Taylor’s recovery from Vaanu’s leaving her. After seeing the love of her life stop breathing again and again… letting go of the fear wasn’t something that came easy, and it made for restless nights.

“I think I made it the whole night. We might just be through the worst of it. I guess you’re not gonna die on me in the middle of the night after all.”

“Like I keep saying; you are stuck with me, Estela Montoya. No way you’re shaking me now.”

With a happy squirm, Estela squeezed Taylor from behind. “Nope-- you’re all mine.” She placed a big smooch on her wife’s rosy cheek. “Come on; I can smell breakfast cooking!”

 ________________________

Several weeks in, San Trobida remained a brand new world for Taylor. It was to some relief when it quickly became apparent that she didn’t especially stand out and draw attention. She slowly got to grips with her place in a world beyond La Huerta, and no one seemed to pay her much notice. Estela had told her, with a laugh, that San Trobidans were not an especially chatty people, and that this shouldn’t come as a surprise. One might expect a polite smile of greeting, but the general population were about as likely to strike up small talk as Estela was-- which was to say, not very.

Initially, Estela had been stuck to Taylor as if by glue, letting her presence be a safety net as her wife grappled with her identity in what was an often overwhelming environment. And it hadn’t just been for Taylor’s benefit. Reunited with her uncle in a post-war San Trobida, her beloved partner by her side, it seemed inevitable to Estela that the other shoe had to drop at some point. Life wasn’t this easy. It just wasn’t. Every other time she’d believed that the struggle was over, she’d been hit with another wallop to the gut. Trusting in ‘happily ever after’ wasn’t something she could turn on like a switch.

But everything hadn’t gone crashing down in flames. Nicolas had welcomed Taylor-- and Jake, for that matter-- enthusiastically into the family. Even for the short years she’d been away, Estela found a San Trobida flourishing without the choke-hold of oppression that she’d always expected to be there. Jake had hit the ground running, having already interviewed for positions with two local airlines to charter tourists-- the thought of tourists coming to San Trobida was staggering in itself. Estela had offered her services to do odd jobs for old acquaintances; something she’d done many years before, when her mother had still been around to prevent her from getting involved in the war. The vast majority of her uncle’s friends had been connected to the rebellion in some way or another, and standoffish as most were, they welcomed her earnest insistence on being useful. Everything around her spoke of recovery, and Estela found herself beginning to believe that she and Taylor were on their way too.

Taylor often accompanied her wife on these errands, taking every opportunity to soak up the essence of San Trobidan life, to make it a part of herself. She was met predominantly with wary looks and grunts, and soon worked out that it wasn’t worth taking such reactions to heart. Today, though, she was striking out on her own. If she was going to come into her own as a ‘new Taylor’, the fully-realised human being that even Vaanu themselves could not have imagined of her, she had to give herself a chance to grow.

“You have the bus timetables on your phone, right?” Estela asked, taking a moment to give her wife’s fingers a squeeze. “It’s still probably best if you don’t go into the city on your own, but you pretty much know your way to the closer towns anyway. And you can call me…”

“...at any time.” Taylor returned the squeeze. “Always.”

Estela blushed. “Yeah… that. Just, be careful. If you’re feeling tired, call. I can drop everything in a moment, but I need you to be safe.”

Whether Taylor’s batteries ever properly recharged these days, was something debatable. Even the simplest activities would knock the stuffing out of her. Walks along the beach were kept short. Afternoon naps were now something of a fact of life. Sex was slow and gentle. It was damn near driving Taylor crazy, and all she could do was tell herself that it would get better, that her lack of energy was a tiny price for the miracle of her continued presence on earth.

She took Estela’s face in her hands and kissed her sweetly. “I’ll be careful, okay? I know my limits.”

  The bus ride up into the hills east of Estela’s home was a scenic one, and a trip that Taylor had now taken a couple of times during her solo explorations, as well as once, of course, with Estela. Passing agricultural plantations-- cassava, banana and sugar cane, she’d been told-- the surrounding vegetation became denser as the road carried on to the next town. Taylor hopped off at the next stop; if she was feeling up to it, there wouldn’t be too much of a trek back down the hill to the bay off which the Montoya house stood. With that in mind, she kept her ambling around town to a slow pace, and coffee in hand, soon took to the walking trails through the surrounding forest.

Almost certainly as a result of feeling so at home in the wilderness of La Huerta, it was in nature that Taylor felt she was at her best-- it had always been on hikes through the jungle or along the coast that she could really get lost in thought and ponder the big questions. Now, though, her body just couldn’t seem to keep up with her mental needs. When she sat down upon the forest floor for a breather-- surely after not even a quarter of an hour of walking-- her legs were like jelly.

Goddammit.

Frustrated, Taylor distracted herself by taking a picture of an odd flower. She’d been collecting snaps of just about anything in nature she came across that stood out as different to what she was used to on La Huerta. If Estela or Nicolas couldn’t identify it, she’d hit their old handbook of San Trobidan botany. It was a small hobby to keep her occupied; at least she could keep on learning even if she was usually too tired to do a lot physically. She’d also taken up knitting-- though she had a way to go before she’d really got the hang of it. Besides poring over books and keeping up a barrage of questions about life here, there was not a whole lot else for her to do. She’d had a couple of driving lessons, but like everything else, they had to be kept short. She’d usually go along with Estela when she was running errands, but if she wasn’t painfully aware of how weak and vulnerable she presently was, getting a good view of her wife’s vigour and strength did nothing to make her feel any better. Of course, there wasn’t a hint of judgement-- but Taylor was so often left feeling useless and unattractive. Estela had fallen for an energetic woman who had taken life by the horns, and right now, it felt like that woman didn’t exist.

She took her time to recover; sending a couple of pictures to Diego who’d been getting an almost blow-by-blow account of her new life in San Trobida, and doing a few easy stretches. Estela was convinced that working on core strength was the best way forward for Taylor’s rehabilitation; once her body was stronger, then they’d work on cardio and stamina.

Limbered up, Taylor walked back to the bus stop. Dearly as she’d wanted to make the trek home, something that just a couple of months ago would have been a piece of cake, she was not fool enough to think it might happen today. Getting off the bus a couple of stops before home was the compromise she’d have to live with for the time being. She plugged in her earphones and watched the world go by-- listening to a soundtrack she’d inherited as a mish-mash of her friends’ tastes. When she hopped off the bus, that beat kept her putting one foot in front of the other, a steady rhythm. From the footpath by the road up the hill, she could already see an easy route home; the sparkling sea providing a beautiful backdrop that she’d never have fully appreciated through a window. She could feel her body flagging with every step, but it was worth it.

You got this, Taylor. All downhill from here.

As Taylor turned the last corner toward home, her legs shaking, a small figure skittered out across the road and towards the beach. A small sickly-looking dog. Strays were not uncommon near the towns and beaches; Estela had said there used to be many more around the place, that with the war over there was more scope for focus on animal welfare. The fact that this one looked like a strong gust of wind could finish it off spurred her.

Well, I guess I can make a slight detour.

She hastily tucked away her earphones and crossed the street, whistling. Most of the dogs that showed up were seasoned beggars with no qualms about approaching humans. Chances were, this little one would come running. Huffing and puffing her way slowly to the beachside village, she found the dog trundling along the behind the now-closed bar. On a longer look, Taylor noticed that its forelegs were oddly bent, facing in opposite directions as it loped, and the scruffiness that had caught her eye was down to great patches of hair loss that accentuated a thin frame.

Poor little fella…. She gave a low whistle and crouched. “Hey, l’il guy… uh, girl actually. Hey, l’il girl. You must be hungry….”

The dog looked around, eyes wary, as Taylor wobbled precariously. It gave a small but gruff bark, and moved further away. Taylor huffed; if the animal didn’t clearly need a vet, she’d have left it be. After her walk down from the bus stop, her head was spinning and she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Maybe… maybe she should just come back for the tiny dog later. Then, as Taylor made to get up, she stumbled and fell.

Fuck.

Suddenly, it seemed pretty clear that the mangy little dog was not the one in most immediate physical peril. Taylor gave a weak yell and kicked out the dirt. To her alarm, her vision blurred horribly, and she went from ‘a little bit weak’ to ‘I could faint right here’ dizzy in frightening speed.

Okay, head between your legs. Deep breaths… deep….

The world swam. Taylor could just about make out the dog barking in the distance… then all went black.

  _____________________

Taylor woke slowly, her head aching. The room around her seemed to spin, and it took several long moments before she recognised it as Estela’s bedroom. Propped up at the head of the bed, she’d clearly been brought home by someone after…. Crap, what happened?

“There is water for you on the bedside table,” came the sharp voice of Nicolas Montoya.

“W-what happened? I fainted? I think I… fainted.”

“Thankfully you were found by someone who recognised you as a guest of mine. Now, sit up slowly and take small sips of water. Estelita will be home soon-- I would much prefer she is not coming home to her idiot wife looking like death warmed up.”

Her lips dry, Taylor swallowed, still trying to catch her brain up with whatever had just happened. She’d been chasing after a stray dog, and then…. God, Estela was gonna freak. She mumbled a ‘thank you’ for the water, for the apparent rescue, and tried to hold off from shuddering at the bitter disappointment in her uncle-in-law’s voice. He was pissed. A strong part of Taylor was indignant; she wasn’t a fool, but this was new.

“Drink.”

There was no arguing with that tone. Taylor took a sip, then another. She tried to think. She’d been out walking and… her body had just given out on her. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known she was exhausted, but….

“It happened so fast. I was on my way home, and I was tired, and then I just… crashed. Where’s Estela--? Does she know I’m okay--?”

“I didn’t take you for a dumbass--”

Anger flared in Taylor’s gut. That was not fair. “Hey-- I passed out. I’m not stupid, I just--”

“No? You are ill, wandering around defenseless… by your own choice, no? Knowing that your wife would drop everything to get you home when you are clearly incapacitated. I give you some credit; I assume you know this is not the safest corner of the world? It seems like you are a maldito idiota to me!”

Taylor could feel her whole body trembling uncontrollably. “You can try, but you’re not gonna make me feel any worse than I already do. I made a bad call, and I’m paying for it. I don’t expect you to trust me; but I learned a fucking hard lesson today.”

Nicolas turned away, seething.

“If I thought it was a risk, I wouldn’t have done it. I would never put Estela through that kind of worry. Not again.”

“Well, we are fortunate indeed it wasn’t she who found you collapsed in the dirt.” Nicolas’ eyes flashed as he looked back over his shoulder at Taylor. “Do you have any idea--”

A creaking signaled the front door swinging open. There was a pounding of frantic footsteps on hardwood floor and then….

“Taylor!”

Estela rushed in, falling to her knees beside the bed where Taylor was propped up.

“’Stel…” Taylor’s eyes welled as both relief and shame washed over her all at once. I’m so sorry.

“¡Dios! Me asustaste hasta la muerte! What were you thinking? It’s okay, just… just let me look at you….”

The tone of panic and the tears rolling down Estela’s cheeks made Taylor’s heart sink down to her toes. This was the last thing she’d wanted.

Nicolas scowled. “Well, she’s in safe hands now. Estelita, I will be in the office if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Tio.” Estela did not turn as her uncle walked away; she had eyes only for Taylor. Tentatively, she climbed up onto the bed, settling down gently beside her wife.

“I really thought I had more stamina than tha--”

“Shh.” Estela put a finger to Taylor’s lips. “Let me check you over.”

Too exhausted to struggle, Taylor leaned back against the head of the bed, letting Estela inspect her for any signs of physical distress. She remained quiet, feeling the tension that hung between them, tension that shouldn’t be there.

Finally, Estela sighed, her dark eyes forlorn. “Looks like no harm done. You got lucky. But you can’t just push your luck like that. I can’t believe you’d just--”

“It was an honest mistake. Part of being human, or at least that’s what I’m told.”

“It was a stupid mistake!”

It was as though an icy bucket of water had been dropped on Taylor’s head. Estela wasn’t just hurt, she was… angry?

“Hey! I have been lectured enough by your uncle, and I am not gonna take it from you. I know you’re scared, but this is new to me. I’m still working out my limits.”

Estela winced, immediately looking ashamed for snapping. She curled up her knees to her chest and stared straight ahead. For a long while, she sat that way, unmoving.

Taylor watched her wife with concern. Where was she? Reliving the long nights in the Elyys’tel medical centre, a hair’s breadth from losing her partner forever? Or was she even further away; remembering the shattering impact of loss and fearing it touching again?

“Taylor,” Estela said hoarsely, “I can’t… I won’t lose you.”

“No. You won’t.”

“So, don’t do that to me again.That was irresponsible and dumb, and that… that wasn’t fair.”

Hurt, Taylor tried hard not to pout. She wasn’t doing this on purpose; surely Estela knew that?

“We both know that you can’t look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never overestimated what you were capable of. I made a mistake, okay?”

Estela’s nostrils flared. It was difficult to argue with that. Sometime in the future, when he’d cooled off, her tio would no doubt laugh at the thought of her having a taste of all the worry she put him through. “Look, it might seem peaceful here, but beneath the surface, things are still broken. This is not a place that’s forgiving of stupid mistakes. If anything happened to you now, I-- I think it would kill me.”

“I know, ‘Stel. And I was being careful. I thought I was being careful enough…”

As she looked into Taylor’s face, Estela’s expression gradually softened. This sucked. It really sucked. But that wasn’t down to Taylor. She was scared too. Gently, Estela reached out a hand and stroked her wife’s cheek. “You’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

Pressing a tender kiss to Estela’s wrist, Taylor felt herself relax. They were okay. Both kind of freaked out, but they were freaked out together.

“It’s like I don’t know my own body anymore. I feel absolutely useless; I can’t even trust myself, not after what just happened. It’s… kinda shit. ”

Estela huffed knowingly, and stroked Taylor’s hair. “It’s a lot shit. I’m sorry for taking it out on you. The last thing you need is to be stressing out ‘cause I’m being an asshole.”

“You? Never. You’ve had to be scared for so long; you’d have to be a robot if you kept it together all the time.”

“Hmm. Well, if I’ve gotta let off steam, that’s what a punching bag is for. I don’t wanna hurt you. Not ever.” Estela stroked her calloused fingers through Taylor’s hair. It helped to calm the both of them.“Did Tio really chew you out? If he thinks he can lecture you--”

Taylor laughed dryly. “Nothing I can’t handle. It… kinda sucks that he thinks I’m a complete idiot, but I’ll work on that.”

The hurt, though, could not be hidden.

“Carińa, you have nothing to prove. When Tio gets protective he can be… well, pretty damn unpleasant.” Estela sighed softly. “When I found out Mom was dead, it… it’s hard to explain how bad it was. I was unreachable. And obviously it took a long, long time for me to even be close to the person I was before. I think when he found you like that, he must have had a moment when he thought it was happening again. It doesn’t excuse him being an ass to you, but you should know it’s not your fault. You’re not what’s wrong here. Jesus, you’re the opposite of what’s wrong. Okay?”

Taylor found her wife’s hand and squeezed. “I know.” For a little while, she was quiet, just taking comfort in Estela… her being there, her touch. That love was a privilege. “Your tio just… absolutely loves you to pieces. Like you’re his everything. For him to feel as though he’d lost you; it must have been something like torture.”

Her eyes closed, Estela breathed deeply against Taylor’s head, soothed by the scent of her hair. She’d let go of the guilt, but profound sadness lingered. The years since her mother’s death had been little but immeasurable pain for Nicolas, making even the triumphant rebellion hollow.

“I could never thank him enough. No matter what, he supported me, he had my back. Even when I was stuck on a mission that would take away the last person he loved.” She found herself enveloped in a hug, Taylor gently bringing her to her chest and cradling her head there. “I love him. More than I can say. More than I think I’ll ever work out how to show him. But I think… he knows. We’ve been through too much for him not to. I know I fought it; I didn’t wanna risk you even if it meant the world… but he gets to heal now. With me.” Estela looked up, pink dusting her cheeks as she looked into Taylor’s shimmering blue eyes. “You did that. And there’s nothing that anyone could ever give to compare to that. You’re my hero.”

Taylor found herself sniffing, faced with shining sincerity. She didn’t feel like a hero, but for as long as Estela needed her to be that person, she’d try to live up to it. “You’re mine.”

“So, mi querida, it’s gonna be okay.” Estela pulled herself up, so that Taylor could lean on her in turn. “How are you feeling?”

“Actually, not so bad. Like, I desperately needed rest, but at least I seem to be able to bounce back pretty well.”

Estela sighed thoughtfully. The ordeal had been a fright, but it looked like no harm had been done. “You should tell Michelle what happened. She’ll want to know.”

It was hard for Taylor not to groan at the thought of causing even more worry, but she nodded her agreement. Ever since Vaanu left her, she’d been nothing but a burden.

“Actually, what did happen? Tio said you were passed out on the beach-- I thought you were going up into the hills.”

“I did. And I was all pumped up to trek back down from the town--,” Catching a horrified look, Taylor couldn’t help but chuckle. “--cool your jets; you know I’m not that stubborn. I realised pretty quickly that my ambitions were way too high. So, I got off the bus a little ways before our stop, and I walked it. I did it. I mean, it knocked the stuffing out of me, but I did it.”

“...And then, something possessed you to take a stroll along the beach?”

Taylor felt her cheeks flush. Okay, this was the part where I get a little foolish. “There was this little stray dog. Tiny thing, and it looked so sickly. Apparently, the bleeding heart in me jumped out, and then I was on a mission. I think the thought of actually helping someone, and not just being this weak, lost little person just… just sparked something in me. Pretty sure the adrenaline just from that got me to the beach, because when I stopped moving, the fatigue hit me like a train.”

A little smile came to Estela’s face, and it made Taylor blush all the more.

“I know, I know, apparently I’ve got myself a hero complex. Maybe a little bit stupid, but my heart’s in the right place?”

Estela just laughed and held her wife even tighter. “How am I meant to argue with that? One pig-headed crusader to another; it’s not the worst thing you can be. I love you, Taylor.”

Taylor closed her eyes, breathing in the familiarity, the comfort, that came of having Estela so near. Her whole world, her everything. All that she had to give in return was so… small. Helpless and small.

“Hey…,” Estela said gently. “It is going to be okay. I know you’re all right physically, but… you’re sad.”

“I thought I was getting better. I don’t want to be a damsel in distress for the rest of my life. It’s not as if I even know who I am now, but that ain’t it.”

Estela tenderly kissed Taylor’s brow, her own furrowed with concern. “You are getting better. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but from where you came from, this now is amazing. You’re stronger even than just last week. However long it takes, I’ll be there with you. You know, ready to give you a fireman-carry to safety.”

“I guess there’s gotta be some perks to being a damsel in distress. I can’t deny it; that would be kinda hot.”

“Kinda?”

“A lot. A lot hot. I’m sorry, have you seen your arms?”

To Taylor’s relief, the atmosphere had shifted; Estela waggled her eyebrows and giggled, eliciting a weak but grateful smile.

“You’ll be back to kicking ass in no time. If it helps, we can focus more on your physical training-- at least once you’ve recovered from this little, uh, episode. But, um, that little dog you found….”

“If we can find it, I really want to help. Maybe there’s the selfish aspect of me wanting to feel capable of being at least a little bit helpful to someone, but I want to get it fixed up. It-- I think it was a girl-- looked pretty bad.”

“I always wanted to bring home strays when I was little; Tio Nicolas thought he had enough responsibility with a kid around the place, so that was never gonna happen. I’m sure he won’t mind another guest, now. Or at least, he wouldn’t say no. Do you want to get a dog, mi amor?”

“It hadn’t actually crossed my mind what we’d do with her once we brought her home and got her healthy, but… yeah. I think I’d like to have a dog.” Despite all her worries, all her fears, all her shame, Taylor couldn’t stop the small smile that lit her features. If she could somehow claw her way back to a semblance of her old self, what lay ahead looked amazing. “Look at us, ‘Stel; already growing our family.”

A giddy grin plastered across Estela’s face served to sweep Taylor back up into her own insecurities; those voiced and those yet hidden. This was supposed to be their happy ending; after everything her lover had been through, it was all Taylor wanted to make it happen. But now… was she even enough?

This might be as good as it gets. Can you really expect her to be there to catch you when you just can’t stop falling?

Estela stood up and stretched, but gave Taylor a look when she made to follow suit.“We’re not going anywhere until you’re properly rested. I’ll make you some lunch. But then, we’ll see if we can help out your little friend. What do you think?”

Taylor frowned.

What do I think?

I think… I’m scared I’m going to hold you back, when you’re capable of so much.

I’m scared your uncle’s only ever gonna see me as another burden for you to carry.

I’m scared you’re gonna wake up one day and realise I’m not the same person you fell in love with.

She swallowed hard. There was so much love in Estela’s dark eyes, and it was shining there just for her.

I won’t stop fighting to be what you deserve. We’re so close to happy ever after, and I won’t let you down now.

“I think I’ll be up to that. We’ve got saving the world under our belt; rescuing a stray dog is gonna be a cakewalk. Let’s do this.”

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 9: Only Dreaming •

A/n: For those of you who might not have caught my announcement, this series has recently gotten a title change, and new cover as you might have noticed. Both of which I owe a big thanks to my good friend scamander [RichieTozierKaspbrak on Quotev] This is still the It rewrite, just under an official name: Scars That Heal. You can find the full explanation on my profile activity, anyways, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

    Silver’s tires skid across the cracked pavement creating a high screech that barely managed to pierce through the thunderous heartbeat in Bill’s ears. Before him, stood the Neibolt house, and despite his pounding heart, there was no sign of hesitation as he stormed across the pavement towards the gate. However, when his bruised and gangly legs reached the gate’s threshold, they slow as if he is suddenly standing in quicksand. His nerves have finally caught up to him but Bill does not allow this to stop him from his mission and continues across the crisp dry grass that crunches beneath his sneakers. As he walks, it feels as if he is now wading through an invisible pool, his muscles aching as they fight hard against the water. The technique turned mantra slipped from his lips the moment it popped into his mind as crosses the lawn and into the dark shadow the house casts over all of Neibolt.

    “H-he thr-thrusts his fists against the p-po-posts,” Bill’s clammy palms tighten, his mouth running dry but he continues. “and still insists he sees the g-gho-ghost.”

    He has reached the house’s rotten and creaky steps when he hears the approach of several bicycles and Beverly’s voice.

    “Bill!” She cries, jumping off her bike and it tumbles to the ground. “Bill, you can’t go in there. This is crazy!”

    He turns to find his seven distressed friends abandoning their bikes and following cautiously after him into the yard.

    “Look, you don’t have to come in with me,” Bill says, looking to each of his friends. “But what happens when another Georgie goes missing? Or another Betty? Or another Ed Corcoran? Or one of us?”

    The shadow of Neibolt seemed to grow darker before it got lighter as Bill rallied before the Losers Club that day. And despite the ice coursing through their veins, not only from their previous encounter minutes ago but the mere thought of seeking the creature out, they couldn’t fight the small spark of hope from Bill’s words. He had always had that effect, he had a way with words despite the stutter. And what he said was something Eddie had been dreading himself. His eyes flickered to Y/n instinctively, his mouth parted slightly as he regains his breath. There’s a pained expression on her face, her lower lip curled as if she was fighting back tears and he feels like kicking himself for not doing anything to protect her back in the garage.

    “Are you just gonna pretend it isn’t happening like everyone else in this town?” Bill asks, capturing Eddie’s attention once more. “Because I can’t. I go home, and all I see is that Georgie isn’t there. His clothes, his toys, his stupid stuffed animals, but… He isn’t.”

    Bill takes a deep breath, and it seems to fill him with more confidence and the Losers each squirm under Bill’s confession.

    “So walking into this house, for me, it’s easier than walking into my own.”

    Bill turns to face the old rotted door and Richie raises his eyebrows.

    “Wow.”

    “What?” Ben asks.

    “He didn’t stutter once.”

    Y/n’s eyebrows raise in shock as this dawns on her and she turns to Eddie instinctively for his reaction and he meets her gaze uneasily. A moment passes between all the Losers before they begin heading for the porch.

    “Wait!”

    Everyone stops to see Stanley, who remains planted to the ground, his eyes filled with uncertainty. He catches their waiting stares and shuffles uncomfortably.

    “Um,” he clears his throat. “Shouldn’t we have some people keep watch?”

    Bill fidgets with the doorknob and he shrugs slightly and Stan looks around uncertainly at his friends.

    “You know, just in case something bad happens?”

    “Who w-wants to stay out here?” Bill asks.

    Six hands rise to the air, none of them Beverly. Each Loser looks around at one another before one by one their arms fall back to their sides. Richie sighs, knowing what’s coming next.

    “Fuck.”

    After much debate, and several coin tossing later, the Losers had found themselves divided into two groups of four. Due to an unfortunate toss, Richie, and Eddie found themselves with Bill and Bev who had volunteered, while Ben, Stan, Mike, and Y/n stayed outside.

    Richie, of course, didn’t go without a fuss, making his feelings on the matter very clear as they prepared themselves for venturing inside.

    “I can’t believe I drew the short straw,” he huffs, trudging up the porch steps. “You’re lucky we’re not measuring dicks.”

    “You’d still be drawing the short straw” Y/n quips, her voice vaguely meek.

     He turns to look at her, ready with a comeback but the words die on his tongue when he spots her smile, it’s weak and he knows immediately what she is feeling - why she’s making jokes when at a time like this. He can’t help but smile weakly back. Her arms are folded over her b/t frame protectively and her eyes flicker between him and Eddie.

    “Just be careful, okay?” She sighs, her eyes darting to each of them. “All of you.”

    They each nod, and Eddie swallows thickly before following after his friends. Not before casting one last longing glance at Y/n who gives him a less than convincing smile of reassurance.

    The front door creaks open, and Bill, Eddie, Richie, and Beverly step wearily inside. They each have to duck underneath the many wooden slats nailed over the doorway and through it, bits of sunlight stream through.

    The three follow Bill’s lead as they exit the small alcove that bleeds into what is supposed to be the living room. Around them is an empty dark entryway with they could guess was thousands of thick cobwebs. The warped wooden floor beneath their feet was littered with hundreds of dead leaves scattered from the many twisted branches that had snaked up through the cracked floorboards, walls, and ceilings. It’s clear from where they stand and their limited view into the other rooms, several pieces of furniture have been left behind. And to greet them as they step inside, just across the floor was an eerie brick fireplace with a wooden header, carved into it in large misaligned letters; Good Cheer, Good Friends! A low whistle leaves Richie’s mouth as he takes in the chilling sight around him.

    “Well, he’s got the haunted house part down to a science,” Richie says.

    “Shut up, Richie.” Eddie scoffs, his nose scrunched up in overwhelming disgust as he looks around. “Ugh, I can smell it.”

    “Don’t breathe through your mouth.”

    Eddie’s brow furrow as he inches further towards one of the connecting rooms.

    “How come?”

    “Cause then you’re eating it.”

    Richie’s eyes fall on the small alcove to his left when something tangled in a branch catches his eyes. Behind him, Eddie lurches forward as he gags repulsed and hastily grabs for his inhaler in his fanny pack. Against his better judgment, Richie crosses over into the small corner of the room and the closer he approaches the thick trap of web and leaves the clearer the object has become; a missing kid poster with an all too familiar face. Shakily he reaches for it, and every crumple of the paper through the branches is like a thunderous boom in his ears, his heart already racing. All he can do is stare in shock, he can feel his stomach twist into knots and this time it wasn’t because of Eddie. For the first time, Richie ‘the Trashmouth’ Tozier was speechless. Beverly is the first to notice.

    “Richie?” She wanders over with the other in tow, her senses heightened when noticing his fearful gaze. “What’s wrong?”

    “It… It says I’m missing,” He croaks, realizing his mouth and throat have run bone dry.

    Bill joins his side, examining the poster and he tries to keep the worry at bay for his friends.

    “Y-You’re not missing, Richie,” Bill eases.

    Richie’s tremble only grows worse and he starts to shake the flyer, his voice rising.

    “'Police Department, City of Derry.’” He cries. “That’s my shirt. That’s my hair. That’s my face. That’s my name-!”

    “Calm down,” Bill interjects, attempting to grab the flyer. “This isn’t real.”

    “That’s my face! That’s the date!”

    “It can’t be real, Richie!”

    “No, it says it!” Richie shrieks, now fighting over the flyer with Bill. “What the fuck!? Am I gonna go missing!?”

    Beverly and Eddie can only watch in pain and worry as the moment unfolds until finally, Bill is able to rip the paper from the boy’s hands and throws it the ground without even a glance. He wraps his hands over Richie’s shoulders, holding tight against his clawing arms.

    “Calm down!”

    “Am I gonna go missing? Am I gonna go missing-?”

    “Calm down! Look at me, Richie,” He tugs on his friend’s wrist, bringing his attention away from the flyer on the floor. “Look at me.”

    “That…” Bill hastily points to the flyer, and Richie looks to it fearfully, “th-that isn’t real. It’s playing tricks on you.”

    “Hello?” Calls a distant, whimpering voice.

    The four Losers’ attention is ripped away to the source of the oddly familiar voice. Slowly, they creep back into the entryway, the leaves crunching beneath their feet and that is when they hear the voice once more.

    “Hello?”

    “It’s coming from upstairs,” Bev murmurs under her breath, creeping towards the winding stairway, the boys close behind though reluctant.

    “No shit,” Eddie trembles, stepping closer to Richie as they approach the stairs.

    One by one they ascend the winding stairway, caution in every step. They each have duck a gracious amount to avoid the thick tendrils of cobwebs stitched between the walls. And as they inched closer to the top they could hear the sounds of muffled coughing, the source of the voice was gasping for air. They reached the second-floor landing - somehow, it seemed dirtier than the first floor if that was at all possible - and had a continuing set of stairs behind them. Ahead of them, was the entrance to a long hallway, and the four of them inched along as the ragged breathing got louder, now almost wheezing.

    Just around the corner, and the end of the long hallway was a largely cracked and warped wooden door opened ajar revealing a figure on the ground. It was girl, gasping for breath and spitting up blood, her face buried in the leaves and dirt on the floor. Shakily, the messy head of muddied brown hair brushes aside as she weakly turns her head to reveal a face they never thought they’d see again.

    “Betty?” Bev gasps.

    “Ripsom?” Richie gulps.

    She merely looks at them, her eyes sunken and lost before she is ripped away, clawing at the floor and her screams are quickly swallowed in silence. The Losers jump back in horror, their hearts hammering in their chests and they can feel the bile churning in their stomach. And yet, without a word they each creep forward, knowing what they have to face. The leaves scrape against the floor as they pushed by their dragging feet and Beverly tries to focus on the sound of each leaf’s crunch rather than what she is willingly about to face.

    Eddie finds himself shrinking back but he carries on nonetheless. That is until he hears a hauntingly familiar voice carry through the air.

    Eddie.

    The poor boy feels as if his legs - and heart for that matter - have stopped working altogether and slowly he turns around. He finds nothing but the other half of the hallway and it came to a dead-end with an ominous yellow glow from the faded window pane.

    What are you looking for?

    Eddie’s eyes widen to the size of saucers and he freezes where he stands, his heart pumping his chilled blood through his veins. And he can feel the familiar tightness return to his lungs. His hands are fumbling for his inhaler when his friends reach the door at the end of the hall, unaware they were now one Loser short.

    “She was just here,” Richie breathes, looking around the empty room. “Where the fuck’d she go?”

     Eddie still stands rooted in place, he commands his body to scream for his friends but all that comes out is a hushed whisper. And as the only door amongst the dead-end hallway slowly creeks open with a taunting wail, one single moment plays over in his mind strangely enough; the coin toss just minutes ago.

    “So, are we doing this two out of three, or is this a one-flip — well — flip?” Eddie asks.

    It had come down to him and Y/n, and whoever lost the coin toss was going inside. The others had already paired off and it was between them. She stood across from him, she was bouncing nervously on the balls of her heels, shaking out her hands at her sides, visibly nervous. He held the coin in his hand, turning it over endlessly with his forefinger and thumb and her eyes followed its movement precisely.

    “Cause if we do out of two of three, statistically speaking it’s fairer and considering-”

    “Eddie,” she says suddenly, her voice trembling and pleading.

    She fails to meet his eye and she sighs deeply, her eyes closed for several moments and he realizes she only wants the waiting to be over.

    He shuffles on his feet and readies the coin, her eyes stilled trained on the quarter as well as his own and he is suddenly all too aware of the sun beating down on his neck. He looks at one last time, his stomach twisting and turning for many different reasons as the dumbest fucking plan he’s ever heard forms in his mind and the feeling hits him. That deep, sinking feeling one gets when they know - no matter a feeling, or any logical thought, no matter how much their gut is screaming at them not to do something, they know in their heart of hearts they are going to anyway. If it’s the right or wrong thing, they’re not quite sure but it is inevitable from that moment in time and beyond.

    The ‘58 minted quarter soars through the air, the sun reflecting off in thin fleeting beams and Y/n’s voice rings out with slight hesitation.

    “Heads,”

    Eddie swipes at the coin, several beats off even though he was certain he could have caught it if he truly wanted to. Instead, it lands noiselessly in the grass only feet away.

    “The fuck was that?” Richie called. “You probably didn’t realize this, Eds, but you’re supposed to catch the thing,”

    Ignoring his friend’s jabs - and ruefully neglecting to correct his given nickname - he takes a few steps off to find the coin buried in a pile of grass and sure enough, as if to mock him, the tail end of the quarter glints in the sun.

    “What w-was it?” Bill asks, growing impatient.

    He picks up the coin and straightens out. He deposits the quarter in his fanny pack and looks to Y/n. Her eyes are squinted in the sun, and it only enunciates the worried frown already on her face.

    “Heads,” He mutters, slipping over to join Richie, Bill, and Beverly.

    He expects to see her relax, but all she seems is shocked. Not eased in the slightest. But that was only because she now had him to worry about. He had willingly taken her spot.

    But would it be worth it, he can’t help but wonder. This was his chance to be brave, for her, and himself. To prove that he could be. But as he stared down the dirty hallway with god knows how many germs and viruses lurking in every nook and cranny and not to mention the leper’s voice calling to him again, he sure didn’t feel brave.

    “Guys,” he mumbles, turning to find the door begin to close. “Guys!”

    SLAM

    The door separating him and his friends at the end of that long hallway had slammed shut. The noise breaks the others from their trance-like state and they whip around to find they are trapped inside, and worse; Eddie is not with them. Eddie’s terrified screams only bring their further to the edge and they fight harder against the door to no avail.

    “Guys! Guys!” They hear him call out.

    “Eddie!” Richie cries out, his heart pounding dangerously fast.

    “What the fuck?!” His hoarse voice tears through the air, muffled by the door separating themselves from their friend.

    Eddie nears the door, only feet away from the barrier keeping him from his friends when he comes to a screeching halt. The floor in between him and the room had suddenly caved in, one by one the wooden slats peel away to reveal a giant hole leading to the kitchen below - a hole he had barely missed by only the skin of his teeth. He looked down below in shock as he struggled to catch his balance - his knees wobbled terribly at the sight - and while he had not taken the fall, he felt as if his stomach had.

    He tries desperately to slow his rapid breathing, and before he can even think of what to do next, he feels a bony hand grip his shoulder and just as fast an icy chill shoots down his spine. Eddie feels a light tug from the hand that turns him around and he can feel the exhaust of each gaunt finger at the simple gesture. It’s face is somewhat lost in the dark but It is unmistakable; the same face, the same monster that terrorized him before. Pools of excess spit dribble out of a hole in It’s cheek as It’s one foggy and cataract eye drinks up the sight of fear in the boy.

    “Time to take your pill, Eddie.” It taunts.

    It all becomes too much for Eddie, and for the briefest of seconds, he feels as if his heartbeat is so fast it is almost nonexistent. He is suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of light-headedness - or at the very least, he is only just now recognizing it - and suddenly his vision darkens. Only one thing is strong enough to pull him back to earth before he falls under once more; an explosion of pain on his head and back as piles of wood crumble beneath him, prodding his skin. Eddie is given only moments of consciousness to realize he is back on the first floor, his arm and back in searing pain and he has crash-landed on the kitchen table below.

    The last thing Eddie hears before he feels the deep pull of sleep is the shrill beep from his watch.

    Time to take his pills.

    On the other side of the door, a panicked trio of Losers claw at the seemingly jammed door. Bill wrestles with the doorknob and Beverly begins looking around the room for things to use to bust down the door. Meanwhile, Richie stumbles numbly back, fear and panic gripping his heart at the raucous going on outside the door. And how Eddie was all alone.

    Richie!

    His head turns sharply at the sudden call of his name, grabbing his attention. But what held it captive, was the familiarity of the voice. He knew it was impossible, and just about the stupidest fucking thing to believe given the circumstances. The idea that his best friend had somehow made his away around the door and into the room and had decided here of all places would be the perfect time to pull a page of the Tozier handbook and pull a fast one on him to lighten the mood. It was ridiculous, but it was a far more palatable reality than the alternative he faced. That Eddie was trapped in the hallway alone and in grave danger, quite possibly in pain. Or worse. And yet, he had no clue. All he knew is he heard his best friend and the only logical thing was to go to him.

    Come here, Richie. Came Eddie’s hoarse sounding voice, followed by a dry cackle.

    Adrenaline was pumping fast through his veins, and his legs trembled something awful, but this did not stop him from striding quickly across the room as he followed the source of the voice. Around the corner, was another door, this one wide open that displayed a limited view of what looked to be a storage room upon first glance. Several figures cloaked in faded white rags, covered in dust and cobwebs filled the ill-lit room, and yet he still managed to make out the sudden burst of movement of a small frame scurrying from one hiding spot to another.

    “Eddie,” He breathes, less than relieved and treads inside. “Eddie!”

    Richie receives no reply, but he does not let this stop him from his search, nor does it calm his spiked nerves.

    "Eddie,” Richie hisses to the now seemingly empty room. “where the fuck are you? We’re not playing hide-n-seek, dipshit!”

    On the other side of the room, Beverly - who was nearing her defeat in her search for a ramming device of some sort, had only just noticed Richie’s absence.

    “Richie?” She calls, trailing across the room, a curious Bill on her heels. “Richie-?”

    Having heard her calls, Richie turns quickly on his heels to find Beverly just outside the door in the other room, a look of relief flashing across her face and even Bill comes into view. He breathes a sigh of relief, knowing for sure what he is seeing is a true familiar face and he can feel himself coming to his senses. He wastes no time in heading for the door, but just as suddenly as it had happened with Eddie, the door began to close.

    “Richie! Richie!” Beverly calls, pounding and punching the wooden frame, no longer bothering to look for something to do it for her. “Richie, are you okay?!”

    “Guys,” He yelped, his sweaty palms struggling to twist the jammed brass knob to no avail. “come on, open the door!”

    “What’s going on? Rich!” Bill pleas, his arms growing sore from his fruitless fight, but he doesn’t give in. “Richie! Open the door, come on!”

    Richie, who had resorted to tugging on the handle until his arms weakened called out once more, hoping his voice would reach them.

    “I can’t!” He cries, his head whipping over his shoulder and he squints up at the new flickering blue fluorescence above him. “I- I fucking can’t!”

    No matter his efforts against the jammed door, all Richie could really do was watch helplessly as he slowly drowned in his fear. The frightened cries of his friends now lost in the thunderstorm that was his own dangerously fast heartbeat. All sound was lost to him it seemed, that was until he heard the eerie sound of what he could only describe as several curtains dropping at once. Against his better judgment, he turned to face the room he was now trapped in and the pounding of his heart was no longer the problem. Scattered across the dimly lit room, illuminated by the pale and flickering lights were dozens upon dozens of clown figurines of varying sizes, all staring directly and unmistakably at Richie.

    “Oh, shit,” he mutters, mouth running dry and his breath ragged.

    The voices of his friends have since disappeared altogether, or maybe this thing just doesn’t want him to hear them. He can’t tell which is worse in the spur of the moment, that is until he can hear the snickering high pitched laughter of the many painted porcelain faces staring back at him. It’s not real, he tries to remind himself. He just needs to get back to Bill and Bev and then go find Eddie, but when he turns back around, he finds his path is blocked and he jumps back with a frightened yelp.

    Standing propped up against the door, at about half his height was another porcelain clown, with cockeyed eyes and a wild painted grin. He found himself stumbling into the center of the room, now feeling more trapped than ever as he gazes around at the taunting figures surrounding him. One wooden clown, that stood just inches taller than him and its hand extended suddenly became the center of Richie’s attention.

    It’s not real, it’s all just some fucked up trick.

    Slowly, he reached out, his confidence slowly returning and taps the hollow wooden cheek of the white-face clown. Nothing.

    Richie releases a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, and for a moment he thought he could almost laugh. Almost.

    “Stupid clowns.”

    No sooner does the sound of cloth hitting the floor echo in his ears, and just as fast his one measly scrap of confidence evaporates into the air. He turns to find at the very end of the room, what had been previously hidden under the final cloth tarp; a coffin. With a shrill, one chilling creak it rises open to reveal his own missing poster. And sprawled over it, and all across the baby blue moth-eaten fabric lining was a single five-letter word painted in blood.

    FOUND

    “Oh, fuck,”

    His legs nearly buckled, and yet they still carried him forward towards the open coffin. His widened eyes never broke contact with the open casket, had they, and he just might have spotted the wandering heads of the clowns that followed his every move. As he approached, he prepared himself for whatever horror he was about to face. His mind even managed to conjure up several stomach-turning images before he could reach the thing, all far too horrible a thought to have conjured himself. And he wondered for a moment if the Clown was putting these awful thoughts in his brain. Or was It, and the fear It created in him just unlocking the darkest corners of his own mind?

    What did lie in the coffin was something small, cloaked in a black veil of some sort and yet it still managed to keep his heart pounding. Just like a band-aid, he told himself. Taking another deep breath, once again preparing for the worst, he pulled the cloth off to reveal a small, marionette figurine… Of himself. It was made to look like it was rotting, and it sure was succeeding. It’s eyes were glazed over, nearly all white and his mouth was stitched closed. But what made his stomach lurch was the many patches in its face filled with real maggots, squirming and squelching and Richie could even swear he could smell the corpse rotting.

    “Ugh!” Richie groaned.

    Though he had to say he was in the least bit relieved, it was far less gruesome than he had expected, more disgusting than terrifying he couldn’t help but think. It was enough to make even him nauseous, and he always thought he had the stronger stomach out of his friends. He could practically hear Eddie gagging.

    The very thought snapped him back to reality. Eddie. He needed to get the hell out of here so he could find Eddie.

    With a definitive huff, he slams the coffin door shut.

    BAM

    The casket flies open and a sudden and elongated blur of silver and orange soars out and up to the ceiling, a sharp and maniac screech piercing the air. Richie stumbles back with a scream of his own and he watches on in sheer terror as Clown falls back down to earth, landing perched on the now-closed coffin and towering over Richie. It’s twisted smile grows, and the arch of where It’s eyebrows should be perk halfway up to It’s copper hairline creating a taunting snarl.

    Reaching out one gloved hand, It moves as if to honk an invisible horn at the boy and It’s wicked grin only grows wider. “Beep beep, Richie.”

    Before he can even blink, he is running for his life. No sooner had it spoke was It leaping through the air and charging after him. Unhinging It’s jaw, It lets out an impossibly shrill and ear-splitting roar of anger as It lunges after Richie, long arms growing in length as It reaches out to snatch him up. Richie spares a glance behind him, knowing he is about to run out of the room when to his great surprise the door swings suddenly open, and Bill’s arm stretches in and pulls him out.

    Despite his current situation, Richie cannot believe his luck. He barrels over, swallowing air in heaps with his hands gripped tightly above his knees and hoping they don’t buckle.

    “Let’s get outta here,” Bill stammered.

    A soft thump from the adjoining room shifted their attention to a shabby, threadbare mattress that began to shake vigorously - they could barely make out a familiar giggle from inside. And at its center, a lump grew from inside the mattress until one of many weak seams finally gave way, splitting open to reveal the face a friend they had been searching for.

    Their jaws hit the floor at the sight of a disheveled and even somewhat decomposing Eddie, who looked at the three friends with a glint of mischief.

    “Wanna play loogie?”

    Thick, inky black sludge began to pour from his mouth, staining the mattress as well as their minds. The projection of Eddie let out a deep, primal grunt and he began to vibrate unnaturally as the grunts evolved into a crazed cackle before his head disappeared back into the mattress. All the while, the black sludge had begun to spread; seeping out from under the mattress and onto the floor, slowly inching for their feet and burning anything it touched.

    Down on the first-floor kitchen, the real Eddie springs up, awoken by his adrenaline and he looks around the room. In less than moments, the entirety of his pain of injury returns and he looks down at right arm that lays limply in his lap. He is repulsed at the sight when he realizes why it looks so wrong. It had snapped clean in two, and his lower forearm dangled weakly when he attempted to cradle it. He winced as he did so, excruciating amounts of pain flaring up and it took everything in his power not to vomit. Though this time, he was unsure if it was out of disgust or pain.

    Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck! How would he ever explain this to his mother? That is if even got out alive! What was he going to do?

    Eddie was far too caught up in his panic to notice the gloved hand that shot out from inside the fridge. That is until It began drumming It’s fingers against the metal exterior of the fridge, creating a chilling rhythmic tap, tap, tap that diverted his attention. His head shoots up in time to see the refrigerator door slowly creak open. For one short instance, he can’t make anything out inside, though that quickly becomes a desirable advantage when he finally spots a crooked lanky arm unfold onto the floor revealing the crooked and twisted face that had cornered him here only weeks ago.

  A sinister cackle echoed from the fridge as limb by limb, the gargantuan figure untangles Itself from the fridge and comes to tower over Eddie’s small frame. The boy draws back in terror as the clown dips into a bow, and It’s puffy white cheeks peel back into a mocking leer that revealed It’s several sharp teeth.

  “Time to float!”

  It’s voice, despite its low octave, was light and mocking. The voice It always used in this form, It’s favorite form: Pennywise.

  He steps forward, his long and lanky arms began shifting side to side in a stiff and stilted manner as He stalked forward towards his prey. All Eddie could bring himself to do was crawl back to the best of his ability, swallowing a dangerous amount of air in the form of choked gasps. Finding this amusing, Pennywise puts on an exaggerated frown and begins to feign a gasp, mocking Eddie as It pretends to stumble.

  All the while, the black sludge surrounding Beverly, Bill and Richie only grow closer to their toes. Subconsciously sweeping them back with her arms, Beverly turns on her heels and goes head for the door, the boys following her lead. However, they each stop short, shocked at the least to see not one but three doors in their path. They were each labeled, painted in what one could only assume to be blood, and each drop of excess liquid slowly crept up to the ceilings as if gravity had been reversed. From right to left, they read; ’Very Scary’, ’Scary’, and ’Not Scary At All’.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

  Eddie’s back hit one of the larger scraps of wood - what was left of the kitchen table - indicating he could go no further. He nearly jumped out of his skin when in the blink of an eye, Pennywise was within inches of himself. His tuffs of copper hair - normally swirling out in even sweeps, now mucky and mangled as it hung closer to his rotted face. In an act of bravery, and all the strength he can muster under such terror, Eddie begins to swat at the clown’s face, batting him away in an act of defiance.

  Pennywise snatches the boy’s wrist with an iron grip, bringing it close to his jowls and pretends to eat Eddie’s hand. He giggled delightfully at his clever antics, oh what fun! And the squeals this meal was capable!

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

  Beverly met eyes with both Richie and Bill, knowing a decision had to be made. And it was unanimous. The three children scrambled for the door marked Not Scary At All, Bev is the one to reach the handle first and she rips the door open to find nothing but shadows. A hoarse whisper carries through the air, bringing goosebumps to their skin, all the while, the sizzling goo was creeping dangerously close to their feet.

  “Where’s my shoe?”

  Spotting the metal chain dangling only feet from his face, Bill reaches forward and pulls the chord illuminating the small space and the ghastly sight within. Betty Ripsom’s bloodied and bruised body was suspended from above, hanging by her wrists as she was left to bleed out from the gaping and shredded stump where her torso ended, and her waist and legs had been torn off. Her mucky and tangled hair hung over her face but parted soon as she limply lifted her head revealing the gathering terror on her face.

  A horrible shriek left her lips, eliciting one from each Loser respectively. Richie lurched forward, swinging the door shut and collapsing on it, panting heavily with a wild look in his eye.

  “Where the fuck were her legs?!” He screams, eyes falling to the sludge creeping up on his friends. “Holy shit, what the fuck was that?!”

  “T-T-This is-isn’t real,” Bill reminds, shaking his head and grasping Richie’s shoulders. “R-remember the m-missing kid p-poster! That wasn’t r-real, so this isn’t real.”

  Beverly nods feverishly, trying her best not to pay no attention to the sludge. Bill was right.

  “You can’t let It get to you,” Bev urges, locking eyes with the boy. “It’s toying with us, all of us. But we can change that.”

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

  “Tasty, tasty, beautiful fear!” The clown cried with glee, spit dribbling from his lips and onto Eddie.

  Eddie convulsed with revulsion, his face barely able to scrunch up in disgust in the iron grip the clown held him in. He choked back sobs as the clown smiled. His eyes had turned to a yellow that glowed harsh bright light amidst a darkness like two headlights tailing you in the night on an old back road. And his smile was so sharp and sudden, so unnaturally pointed. And then, those gaping yellow eyes, the haunting headlights, rolled back into his enlarged - was it enlarging? - skull and his jaw unhinged revealing his rows and rows of thorny teeth. Like hundreds of little white needles that would surely tear his flesh apart and Eddie was sure of it. He was sure this was the end of him.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

  “Come on. Ready?” Bill asked, the three of them facing the door.

  “NO!” Scoffed the Tozier boy.

  “Let’s go!” Beverly rallied, ripping the door open.

Disgruntled, Pennywise turned from his meal. Like a wolf in It’s den, It could hear, It could sense - It could smell - the company.

  A sigh a great relief swept through the three friends as they saw the disheveled and grossly unsanitary hallway. Something they never thought they’d be grateful to see and Richie felt one of many large weights had been lifted from his chest.

  “Oh, thank fuck.”

  But the moment was cut far too short when Beverly begged the question he had previously been asking.

  “But where’s Eddie?”

  “Help!” Eddie! “Help!”

  Pennywise’s gloved hand moves to cover the child’s screams, only managing to muffle his cries. All the while, It’s rotund head still angled away and physically, It’s eyes are fixed on the kitchen door, and yet It knows the boy’s friends are coming for him.

  “Eddie!”

  The door is thrown open, Richie, Beverly, and Bill come stumbling in. They all gasp at the sight of the disheveled clown hunched over their friend, hand now pinned around Eddie’s throat. Displeased, he turns to glare at the interruption, yet a glint of amusement lingers in It’s soulless eyes.

  “Holy fuck,” Richie mutters breathlessly, eyes shifting away quickly. “Eddie!”

  His exaggerated lip began to quiver as he looked to Bill, his voice growing high and shrill as he so easily put on an expression of pain.

  “This isn’t real enough for you, Billy? I’m not real enough for you?”

  “Oh, shit,”

  A malicious smile painted the clown’s face, curling his mouth.

  “It was real enough for Georgie!” He jeered.

  An odious cackle erupted from Pennywise at Bill’s reaction, and it took only seconds for it to turn to a hideous roar as he lunged across the room in a hazy silver blur. It was their turn to stare death in the eyes - more specifically for Bev, Bill, and Richie - death was in the form of a heinous clown. A rallied cry tore through the air as swiftly and cleanly as the fence iron rod was driven through It’s eye so suddenly. Everyone in the room gaped at Y/n as she uncurled her trembling hands from the spike, blood floating out of It’s eye and up towards the ceiling. The rest of the Losers stumbled inside, mouths agape to see the wounded monster wailing meekly at It’s new wound. It was distracted, for the time being.

  “Eddie!” Y/n cried, shuffling around the hunched figure, motioning for her friends to follow. “Guys, help me get him out!”

  No one wasted any time, and Bill, Richie, and Bev managed to maneuver around pennywise and scurried to the floor to help. Mike, Ben, and Stan stood frozen in the entryway, unable to help.

  “Eddie, come on!”

  “Eddie!”

  “Get up!”

  In their fright, not one Loser could hear one another, each scream overlapping the other in a mad scramble to get Eddie out. But Eddie couldn’t bring himself to move, the shock of it all was gripping, and he was much too afraid of what would happen if his eyes left the clown for even a moment. Bill quickly caught on, and he turned his head to see Pennywise’s arched back slowly straightening, a deep growl rumbling It’s chest.

  “Oh, fuck!” Richie gasped at the sight, looking back over at Eddie as he tugged at his one good arm. “we gotta get outta here!”

  With a flourish, Pennywise turned on his heel halfway in a bow, and even then he towered over the Losers. The spike had gone clear through his head and was protruding through his left cheek, his growl deepened and he rose to his full height as he stalked forward. Dribble was once again pooling at his lip, and nothing but a fiery rage was left in It’s one good eye, fixed on It’s newest target. But she was too focused on Eddie, and getting him up. Beverly stood over her and Richie, groaning in fright and tugging frantically at her best friend’s shirt.

  “Get Eddie! Let’s go!”

  “Eddie, come on! NOW!”

  “Guys!” He wailed.

  Y/n, who was all too aware of the It’s presence, finally turned around to see It inching closer. She locked eyes with the monster and tuning out the overlapping screams of her friends became easy when she did so. Because all her mind could handle at once was the fear, the very fact she and her friends were in danger and she just pissed this thing off even more. It was coming for her first, that was easy enough to know. Though she trembled with fear, she shifted her frame in front of her friends, shielding them to the best of her ability.

  It merely snarled at her, amused at her ply but far more tickled by It’s own countermove. A horrible cracking elicited from It’s hunched figure, and everyone - apart from Richie who was hellbent on assuring Eddie’s attention was on him instead - watched as the clown transformed. It’s arms began to grow, now sagging on the floor as It’s knuckles dragged through the leaves. And It’s torso had thinned to impossible proportions, It’s hunched and bony back ripping away the seams on It’s satin costume. And of course the eyes, the same eyes that haunted her that night and every night since.

  And yet she didn’t move.

  Not as he taunted her, with cruel, strikingly similarities as that night - the boogeyman towering over her trembling form. Nor did she move when he lurched forward with a shriek, a desperate, last resort jump scare that worked on her friends. But not her, she refused. Refused to let him know he got to her, or even admit to herself that he got to her. But he did, all too easily. Y/n looked up at the dark chasms where his eyes once were, were two glowing yellow iris now resided, and she waited. Waited for the final blow and for this all to be over. When it finally came, she had expected it to be directed at her but had hit Ben instead.

  Turning suddenly, the iron rod protruding from It’s cheek had caught the flesh of Ben’s stomach, tearing it open. He collapsed back into Mike’s arms with a painful wail, Stan running to his side. All the while, Pennywise turned to look at the eight petrified children and cackled weakly at the small feat. Taking a bow, It backed out of the room, retreating into the shadows and back to It’s hideout. Everyone was in a state of shock, Mike and Stan were fussing over Ben. Richie and Y/n now doing the same with Eddie while Beverly trembled in horror, hand clamped over her mouth to stop her screams from breaking through. But Bill, he only grew more frantic and he rose to his feet and made a mad dash for the door.

  “Don’t let him get away!”

  “Bill! Where the fuck are you going?!”

  At that moment, Bill didn’t care his friends hadn’t followed. He had to make sure the bastard didn’t escape. He followed the clown and found himself descending a rickety staircase, not unlike the one in his basement. That’s when he spotted the well. And more importantly the two lanky claws gripping the stone ledge and the disappearing glance of the clowns head and glowing red irises vanishing into the well.

  “BILL! GET BACK HERE, WE HAVE TO HELP THEM!” It was Y/n’s voice, and Bill was certain he had never heard her so certain.

  “NO! NO!” Eddie cried, looking around at all his friends as they grabbed for his arm.

  Bill has to pull himself from his trance, promising himself this wasn’t the end and scrambled back up the steps back to his friends. He quickly joined their side, and for the first time, he got a good look at Eddie’s arm. He felt as if he could just about puke. Richie looked at him nervously, his hands trembling and a stutter of his own taking over.

  “I-I-I’m gonna, I’m gonna snap your arm back into place!”

  Anger flashed in Eddie’s eyes, and he shook his head with fervor. “DO NOT FUCKING TOUCH ME!”

  Ignoring Eddie’s protests, Richie attempted to calm his nerves and prepare himself, all the while the rest of the group beginning to panic. Even Mike, and Stan were drawn to their cries, having been wrapped up in Ben.

  “Okay, one,”

  “Do not touch me!”

  “Eddie, squeeze my hand,” Y/n ordered over the commotion, extending her palm but he shook his head.

  “Two,”

  Cries of protest echoed across the room and finally, Y/n quickly grabbed the Eddie’s one good hand, closing her eyes and turning away knowing what was inevitably to come.

  “Three!”

  Everyone heard the sickening crunch of Eddie’s bones shifting, yelling out in disgust but none compared to Eddie’s pained howl. Y/n grimaced at Eddie’s surprisingly strong grip, and she did her best to swallow the bile creeping up at the horrible sound. Remembering all too quickly where they were, she jumped to her feet. Her and Richie helped the boy up and once they were assured Ben was able to move, the eight Losers fled for the exit.

×××

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[jadekitty777]

Doomsday Dinner Party: Chapter 2

Me? Updating a story from 2018? It’s more likely than you think. I’ve been wanting to write a continuation to this one for a long time.

Day 3: AU Day @taiqrowweek

Rating: T

Words: 9,000

Summary: The world might be over as they know it, but that didn’t mean their still wasn’t time for a road trip.

Ao3 Link: Doomsday Dinner Party (This link leaks to chapter 1, since reading it is kind of required and it’s been a long time)

~

June in the south was miserable and Qrow had not missed it one bit. Especially when that meant waking up with his clothes sticking to him like an uncomfortable, sweat-soaked blanket. It didn’t help that Tai was practically a furnace, and such an extreme cuddler it was as if he was trying to make it into the next Olympic sport.

He carefully wiggled his way out of the other’s grip, his efforts proving successful when he stirred but didn’t wake. As he sat up, he bit back the groan as his entire body ached in protest, every muscle sore from last night’s desperate escape. His shoulders were particularly knotted up, but he didn’t dare try to rub at them. Not with his fingertips still scraped raw from the failed attempts to grab the edge of the concrete wall he’d tried to vault himself over.

Qrow glanced over at Tai, still slumbering away.

He remembered that split second of dread that had shot through him, when he called for Tai’s help and the man, already safely straddled on the fence, looked the other way. He had thought, this was it. Tai was going to jump to the other side and leave him to die. He couldn’t describe the feeling that overwhelmed him when Tai only chucked their bags over before joining him back on the ground to help him over, putting himself in danger to save him.

After every other loss Qrow’d endured – friends, coworkers, his father, civilization itself – he was certain that nothing else could faze him. Oh, how the universe loved to prove him wrong. For the dread he felt when he was in trouble was nothing compared to the all-encompassing terror that engulfed him when it was Tai’s life on the line instead.

He’d almost lost him last night and the thought alone still shook his very soul.

It wasn’t even supposed to be like this. His plan had been simple: Team up with the trained soldier and travel from Montana to Texas. Try to locate his sister in Wichita Falls. Then, get a free pass into the military safe haven in Archer City. He was just supposed to use Tai’s connections to save his own skin, not fall for the guy.

And yet, here he was, a foolish man gently stroking his knuckles across Tai’s face, heart jumping at the little smile that elicited.

Damn it.

Qrow pulled away, before getting to his feet and picking up his scythe as he headed for the door. He opened it only a crack at first, listening carefully for any out of place noises – shambling feet, hissing breath. Anything that might indicate a Stalker nearby. When nothing caught his ear, he widened it, took a quick visual sweep of the area, before determining it was safe and walking outside.

Though he had no skill in reading it, the sun wasn’t too high yet, so he guessed it was only a bit past eight. Despite the early hour though, the summer heat was already settling in thick. He turned on his heels, getting another gander of the area. Even in the light, there wasn’t much to the facility. The wall surrounded the perimeter, only broken by an iron wrought gate that was probably only ever opened for vehicular traffic. He spotted nothing beyond the metal bars, so the horde that had chased them had thankfully continued on, rather than lingering in wait for them. Within the walls, there was only the small office building they’d holed up into and the white tanks that potentially held some water.

Possibly a back-up supply in case of a tornado emergency? He wasn’t sure, but it would be worth investigating after Tai got up.

For now, he had a different task in mind as he settled on the ground in the shade of one of the tanks and rested his weapon in his lap. Having been so exhausted, he hadn’t cleaned the blade last night like he should have. It was going to be a chore to do so this morning, now that the blood had had time to dry and crust over. It would have to be done before they moved out though, so he set himself to work on the arduous task.

It wasn’t until he was nearly done that Tai finally emerged, lumbering his way over to sit down beside him.

“Breakfast?” He greeted, shaking a bag of almonds at him.

“Sure.” Qrow accepted a handful, throwing them all into his mouth before picking back up his grit stone and moved it along the sharp end of the scythe. With the sound too grating to talk over, they shared the meager meal in silence. Not that there was much left to sharpen. Only a few more strokes and the task was done.

It was worrisome that the bag was empty in just as little time.

To avoid thinking about it, he rapped his knuckles on the tank behind them. “Was thinking there might be some water in here.”

“Doubt it.” Tai said, appraising the unit with a skeptical eye.

“Oh yeah?” He challenged. “What makes you so sure?”

Without breaking eye contact, Tai pointed to something above Qrow’s head. “Well that, for starters.”

He looked up at what he was indicating, spotting the bright yellow sticker with big, bold letters that said: Caution – Fire Hazard.

Not missing a beat, he said, “Could still be water. It’s a hazard to fire.”

Tai chuckled. “Oh, I see. It’s one of those badly translated stickers from Peru then.”

“Peru? Why not China?”

“Because my people have standards.”

“Your people?” Qrow arched a brow. “Tai, you’re like the whitest Chinese person to ever exist.”

He gave him a once over. “Kettle, black. Or in this case, white.”

“Hah. Clever.” He mocked. “Least I got the Asian eyes.”

“And they’re very pretty.” Tai reached out, roughing up his hair until most of the shaggy locks were covering his vision. He laughed Qrow off when he tried to swipe at him in retribution, scuttling back and getting to his feet. “Come on, we should get moving before the sun gets too high.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He stood as well, pushing his hair back into place, grimacing at the grime and grease that kept it into place like a self-made hair gel.

God, what he wouldn’t do for a shower.

As they headed back to the little metal building, he said, “So my thought is we head back to the car. Salvage it if we can. Ransack it if we can’t.” They’d left a lot behind in yesterday’s escape, including a canister of gas and some spare water.

Tai nodded stepping inside just long enough to grab their packs. “Shouldn’t be a problem. The freeway should be mostly clear now, so we can probably hotwire something new if need be.” He headed towards the gate, handing Qrow’s bag over as he passed. “We can probably go scavenging in a few of the small towns on the way, but if all goes well, we can definitely make it to Wichita before nightfall.”

Qrow froze.

It took the other man almost a dozen steps before he noticed. He paused, glancing back, “Qrow?”

He shifted his weight uncertainly, dropping his gaze. “Yeah, ‘bout that. I was thinking maybe we should just… skip Wichita and head straight for Archer City?”

The silence that followed allowed Qrow to feel lower than the dirt he was staring at. And though Tai wasn’t a violent man by nature, at least where the living folks were concerned, he still flinched all the same when the man approached him.

But the most Tai did was lay a hand on his shoulder, voicing softly, “Are you sure?”

“Last night was the first time we’ve encountered a crowd of that size. We barely made it.” He replied. “If we couldn’t handle that, how are we going to handle Wichita being like that from end to end?”

“You don’t know that.”

He finally rose his gaze. “No, but I do know better than to gamble on a losing hand.”

“But,” It was hard to catalogue the pinched expression that formed on Tai’s face. “But she’s your sister.”

He swallowed down the sudden grief that was trying to crawl its way out of his throat. “Yeah. Truth is though, I know she’s not there. She either got out, or she didn’t. I only wanted to go for me. To find peace with it, I guess.” He laid his hand over Tai’s, feeling the scars on the knuckles and the warmth of his skin. Alive. Here. “But I don’t want to lose you by chasing ghosts.”

Those soulful, blue eyes searched his face carefully. Then, for no reason at all, Tai pulled him into a hug, whispering into his hair. “Okay.”

It was almost like he was trying to comfort him. He didn’t know why though. He was fine.

Qrow buried his head into Tai’s shoulder.

…He was fine.

~

Qrow was nothing if not masterful at ignoring his own emotions.

“What do you think?” Qrow asked as he splayed himself over the hood of a Ferrari. “Perfect for the next calendar?”

“Qrow no.” The smile gave his partner away.

“Oh you’re right, the ladies like the open shirt look.” He teased, reaching up to undo a few of the top buttons.

Tai shoved a hand in his face, pushing him. “Cut it out porn star. We gotta actually work.”

He gave a mournful sigh. “My career, ended before it could take off.”

Qrow hopped down from the car, trailing after the other man. As they’d feared, their little hit and run last night really did a number on the Camry. The back wheels were now pitched up on a hill of squirming, hissing Stalkers. There was really no hope of getting it loose without a tow and even if they could, the potential damage the vehicle sustained probably negated the effort.

So they made their way to the freeway as planned, now eerily empty except for the few dead still stuck in their seatbelts. They made sure to avoid those ones.

“Oh, what about this one?” Tai pointed out a Jeep Wrangler, eyes practically sparkling. “Be good for some off roading, yeah?”

“Yeah, ‘cept that gas guzzler ain’t going to get us very far.” He nudged him onwards, peering into the windows of the cars they were walking by, trying to see if there were any abandoned snacks or water bottles to snag. Unfortunately, the best he could seem to find was a pack of Winterfresh gum, the sticks so old they crumbled.

They ate them anyways.

After about an hour of scouring their options and many failed attempts to get something working that hadn’t had something wear out from disuse and time under the hot sun, they finally managed to get a little Hyundai purring to life. Qrow eased it down the grassy slope, the whole frame shaking roughly as they made their way to the side road they’d been traveling on. Once they hit it, it was smooth sailing from there, Qrow pulling down the window to stick his hand out while Tai hummed showtunes beside him and mapped out the safest route to their final destination.

They reached Sterling within the first ten minutes. The small town, boasting only an original population of 800, was like a ghost town to drive through. A shambling straggler could be seen here or there, but mostly they went through uninterrupted – stopping only to check an already well-ransacked Dollar General. Temple, the next village down the 65, was not much more impressive and with tiny stores just as empty. They pulled over halfway down on the 70 to wash up in the Red River (not quite the shower he’d been hoping for, but it would do). They collected some spare water to boil later, before moving on.

Soon enough, they were turning onto the 79 and crossing the state border, driving through Byers, a town so miniscule, it wasn’t worth touring.

“Maybe we should just keep going.” Qrow said as they entered Petrolia, finding the show to be the same as the rest: lifeless streets decorated with only the occasional Stalker and nothing else. “We really aren’t getting anywhere with all these stops.”

Tai ran a hand through his hair, already dry as the early afternoon sun bore down from above like a heat lamp. “Suppose so. We’re only an hour or so away. Turn right here.”

He did as told, eyeing the signs as he did so.

Tried to ignore the heaviness in his heart as he realized they were turning away from Wichita Falls.

He focused twice as hard on the asphalt stretching for miles before them, avoiding the occasional abandoned car or, in one case, tractor. There wasn’t much to see on the countryside of Texas, even less so now. It was nothing but wide, open fields, overgrown with weeds that had gone untilled, interspaced by the occasional barn or house. Any livestock there had been seemed to have escaped from their pens or frozen during the winter season.

They both looked away from the dead horse still tied to its post in the corral.

It took only twenty minutes to hit the next city. Despite it being three times larger than the other towns, they made it through Henrietta without incident.

They were just going under the overpass of the freeway when Tai suddenly exclaimed, “Wait! Turn around!”

“What? What is it?” Qrow asked, U-turning in the middle of the road.

“We need to go there!”

He followed the direction he was pointing, eyebrows going up to his hairline. “Pecan Shed? The fuck you want to go there for?”

“It’s a gift shop.”

He waited a beat. “And?”

“It has things… and stuff?”

Qrow rolled his eyes. “What a concept. Next you’ll be telling me hardware stores have nails.” He turned onto the side street all the same, pulling into the parking lot within seconds. He gave the building a once over as they got out of the car.

It was a fairly large. Two stories tall and long as a barn, with a fancy awning in front that mimicked a shed roof and a patio with seating that stretched all across the front and down both sides of the property. The name of the place was in big red letters at the top story, something that would be easily visible from the freeway when passing by. The front doors were made of glass, surprisingly still intact and, more importantly, unlocked.

They stepped inside with caution at first, but a quick sweep of the open floor and a few calls to garner attention with no response told them they weren’t in any immediate danger.

Which meant…

They shared a glance, before immediately tackling the still semi-stocked junk food station in the middle of the room. He ripped open a package of Ruffles, stuffing half the bag in his mouth at once. It tasted like heaven. Stale, over-salted heaven.

Beside him, Tai was inspecting a bag of what appeared to be shelled peanuts while tipping back a bag of Fritos.

He swallowed down another handful, saying, “Save those.” They would keep better longer and they were good fillers when they had nothing else.

“Ye’I’no.” Tai garbled out, his normal southern politeness completely abolished in the sightline of food.

Qrow, who had no politeness at all, just tossed the empty bag over his shoulder and reached for the Funyuns next.

By the time they had their fill, there was a small collection of litter at their feet. He sighed, plopping down onto the nearby checkout counter, smoothing a hand over his belly. They’d had to ration for so long, he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt safe to overindulge. Too worried about what he’d need tomorrow to worry about the ache in his stomach today.

“Sir, how much will this cost?”

Qrow looked up, smirking as Tai stood before him with two hand baskets full of goods. “For what? The food or my sexy ass?”

He winked. “The food. Your ass is priceless.”

“Least you know quality when you see it.” He hopped down, taking one of the baskets and following the other out to the car.

They fell into an easy rhythm, scouring the shop top to bottom for anything worth nabbing. Drinks, trail mixes, jerky, matches, candles, blankets, batteries, knives. Even things like books and magazines were useful for campfire tinder – and maybe a bit of reading for those really boring nights.

Then again, Qrow thought as he placed a few shirt-wrapped bottles of wine in the back, there were always other methods of entertainment.

He slammed the trunk closed, before heading back in for one last sweep through of the back aisles. He zigzagged around the store, triple-checking the sections they’d already emptied. A selection of colorful novelty mugs caught his attention and he chortled over the one with the cartoon Corgi surrounded by a heart and flowing text framing it that said, ‘This is the Corgkey to my heart’.

Tai had always said he wanted a dog, hadn’t he?

He plucked it off the shelf and made his way towards where he could spot the familiar head of blond hair peeking above the displays. He wheeled the corner, about to call out – only for it to choke in his throat when he realized what the other man was doing.

Tai stood in front of a rack of wooden baskets, each one filled to the brim with stuffed animals. He seemed to be in a silent debate over whether to take the fuzzy teddy bear or the brightly colored unicorn, as if it were the most important decision of his life.

He looked so… lost.

Qrow inched forward hesitantly, moving loud enough that he knew he was there, but quiet enough to not disturb him.

It seemed Tai wasn’t completely stuck in his own head though, for when he finally stood at his side, he spoke, “I used to bring Yang here a lot.”

He tilted his head, surprised. “Your daughter?” Tai hadn’t talked about his girls much; whether it be out of a simple habit of privacy or a necessity to keep himself focused on survival instead of agonizing over his children’s fate was unknown to Qrow, but either way he’d never pried.

“Yeah. When I’d take her to go visit her mom, if the trip didn’t go well – and it rarely did – I’d bring her here. She loved the dinosaur exhibit that’s in front of the truck stop. I’d let her play there as long as she wanted and then we’d eat at the Steak N’ Shake.” He waved a hand at the store around them. “Then we’d come here, get some of the specialty fudge to bring home and Yang would pick out a stuffed animal for Ruby. Somehow, she always knew which one she’d love the most.”  He laughed. It was a strained, wounded sound. “I’m afraid I don’t have her intuition though. I can’t even remember if Ruby was still in her unicorn phase before I left.”

Qrow swallowed down that same, awful grief from before that was trying to escape. Instead, he forced some cheer into his tone as he said, “Well you know what I do when I can’t make a decision?” He turned to the baskets in front of them and pulled one right off the rack, dropping it down between them, “I get them all.”

Tai blinked down at it, before a genuine smile broke free. It was like watching the sun come out after a rainstorm. “Qrow, we can’t bring them all.”

“Watch me.” He pulled another one free and balanced it against his hip as he hefted it towards the car.

Ten minutes later, they were peeling out of the parking lot, about a hundred pairs of eyes watching the road go by from the backseat.

And Tai didn’t stop smiling.

~

A semi-truck was parked sideways along the two-laned road that cut across the lake on the 172, it’s front fender partially submerged in the murky water, effectively blocking the way. Qrow didn’t think much of it as he turned them around to take another route.

He grew more suspicious when they encountered multiple semis parked in a line across the 174.

Tai lent forward, eyeing the trucks with narrowed eyes. “These are barricades.”

“And people don’t set up barricades if they aren’t trying to protect something.” Qrow determined, switching into low gear. “Come on, we can drive around it.”

“Wait!” He grabbed his wrist, keeping it from touching the wheel. “If the military set these up, then the fields are probably mined.”

He considered that for a moment, before shifting into reverse. “Alright then we’ll try up the highway.”

Around they went, the detour taking them nearly a half hour – and sure enough, right at the juncture that converged the highway with the freeway, another blockade halted their forward motion. But this time, there was a message left for them in bright red paint along the bodies of every truck:

TURN AROUND OR DIE

“The fuck,” He breathed, a shiver running down his spine. He looked to the man beside him, whose face had gone white. “Tai?”

Tai set his jaw, before pulling out the map. “Come on, let’s get closer than we’re walking it.”

“And what are we doing about that?” Qrow snapped, pretending his voice didn’t hit the octave of a screeching bat.

“You don’t have to come with me.”

The words were like a blow to the face. “What?”

He pointed out the frontage entrance a few miles south. “I’ll go, and then I’ll come back and get you if it’s safe.”

His heart slowed down from its 100-mile a minute pulse line to only about 80. He pulled the car around, grumbling all the while, “Like hell you will.”

Despite his words though, as they neared the off ramp, the desire to just hit the gas and keep going overcame him so strongly, it was like his foot was fighting against a two-ton weight. He looked again to the man beside him, tried to draw strength from his unwavering nerve. Tai had the look of a man who was about to go to war with the whole world if it dared stand in his way of him and his kids – and if Qrow just became another obstacle, he had no doubt on where he’d end up on that side of the battle.

He wished he’d had even an ounce of that same backbone for his sister.

He beat down his shame and jerked the wheel to the right, heading down the ramp and following the way back up to where the street met another. He turned onto it. The road was immediately rough, more dirt than asphalt, rattling the frame of the car harshly as they slowly trudged between the empty farming fields.

Halfway down the road, they came to a pair of dead ash trees, one on either side. Hanging from their blackened and brittle branches were about half a dozen empty nooses. But one was not.

Instead, in its snare, was the body of a decaying crow.

A promise and an omen.

An eerie silence fell between them as they passed underneath it, the air stifling, suffocating.

Qrow coughed and said, “I think that was my cousin.”

Tai snorted, smacking his arm. “Shut up.”

His own snickers were practically hysteric. The buzzing that had started in his nerves from the first warning sign had turned into a crawling feeling, like a line of ants were marching along his skin. To combat it, his grip on the wheel tightened.

This was insane. People had done all this. Blocked the roads, painted the warnings, hung the signs. All in an effort to keep other survivors from coming close. Was it all just the military’s doing? Scare tactics because they were overcrowded? Or was it something worse?

Just what were they walking into?

“Hey.”

Qrow sucked in a sharp breath, looking down at the hand now covering his own.

Tai ran a thumb over his knuckles, the movement as gentle as his voice, “It’s okay if you want to stay back, really.”

“Fuck that.” He snapped. “You would of come with me to Wichita, no matter what, right?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Was the immediate assurance, followed shortly by, “But that doesn’t mean you owe me your life.”

He thought, again, of last night. Their shared panic as they ran across the fields. The wall that loomed ahead, cutting off their escape. Tai’s frantic orders as he helped him over.

Had he been alone, that would have been it.

He couldn’t stomach the thought of Tai being in a similar situation – needing him to look out for him. And him just not being there.

“No.” He avowed, meeting his eye. “We’re in this together. So unless you’re gonna throw me out of this damn car, you can cut it out with the martyr shit. Okay?”

The hand over his pulled his off the wheel, Tai clutching onto it almost fiercely. “Okay.”

Qrow let him keep it, slipping his fingers between Tai’s own as he turned back to the road.

As they neared its end, he noticed an assortment of industrial standard wind turbines. Perhaps once in use to provide power to the few speckled barns and homes on the horizon. He turned north, driving between them, peering up at them. The blades were whirling lazily in the breeze as the metallic forest caught the bright, summer sun, gleaming harshly bright.

He had to wonder if the buildings out here still had power. Or, if not, if a bit of tweaking to the structures might be able to bring them back to life. He was long removed from his university days when he would dabble about in engineering, and he’d never actually studied the ins and outs of wind energy converters, but the temptation to try was irresistible. To be able to cook their meals on a stove again or, god, have a hot shower. He had to bet there were some independent water wells out here and the land was still prime for growing too; it wouldn’t be hard to get their own crops growing. With time, they might even be able to find some livestock again. And a dog, too.

Qrow got lost in the fantasy of it.

So much so, Tai almost made him jump when he suddenly spoke up, “Here too?”

He blinked away the afterimages of him and Tai playing house during the apocalypse, focusing on the reality before him.

Scoffed at the sight of the pickup truck parked sideways across the road. He rolled to a stop, eyeing a side street in the rearview mirror a short-ways back. It was even less maintained than the ones they’d been traveling down so far, promising a ride that would rival a go around on some bumper cars.

“What do you wanna do? Walk it or keep going?” He asked gruffly.

Tai hummed thoughtfully, eyeing the map once more. “We’re not too far off at this point. Ten miles at most.”

“Not far off, he says.” Qrow mocked under his breath, even as he parked the car.

His partner laughed, undoing his seatbelt. “It’ll be good for you. Your scrawny legs could use some definition.”

He opened his mouth to retort, reaching for the keys to turn off the car –

When the one in front of them roared to life.

They froze, staring at the truck.

“What?” Tai whispered.

To assure they hadn’t misheard, the engine revved loudly.

Then, the wheels rotated towards them, the axles squealing as the truck came barreling towards them.

“Oh shit.” Qrow barked, throwing them into reverse and slamming down on the gas pedal.

Tai yelped as he was thrown into the dash as they rocketed backwards several meters. Another quick gear shift, and Qrow twisted the wheel around, flying down the road he’d spotted before. They hit a pot hole hard enough to throw them up from their seats, but he didn’t dare slow down.

His arms trembled and sweat started to bead from his brow. “What the fuck.”

He looked at the rearview, seeing the truck taking the same corner, gunning after them.

“What the fuck!” He shouted again.

“I don’t know!” Tai shouted back, scrambling to get his seatbelt back on.

“There’s someone in there.”

“You think?!”

He smacked the wheel. “Well what the fuck do we do!?”

“Calm down.” Was the sharp reply, Tai twisting around in his seat to keep an eye on their pursuer. “We just need to lose him.”

“Oh, that’s all? Brilliant!”

“Qrow.” The commanding tone shut him down immediately, his partner leveling him with a look. “Listen to me. We’re going to be fine. Just focus on driving. We’ll find a place around here, a home, a barn whatever. Just something with some cover.”

He took a few deep breathes, trying to steel his nerves. “Alright, alright.”

Except, it became abundantly clear that plan was sunk, as they sped past the first side street, completely blocked off by rubbish and vehicles. It was the same story with the next one.

Tai cursed under his breath. “He’s corralling us.”

“Maybe we should ditch the car? Head out into the field and make a run for it?” Qrow suggested.

He shook his head. “We’ll be too exposed. I think our better bet is to figure out where he’s leading us.”

“And then?”

“Then we’ll talk this out with whoever this guy is.”

“And if he doesn’t want to talk?”

Tai’s expression smoothed out into something cold. “Then you’re lucky I’m a good shot.”

Qrow swallowed, not arguing further.

He knew Tai could do it, if he had to. That’s how the military had trained him. But he hadn’t had to go through any of those tough regimens like his partner. Hell, up until eight months ago, he’d been living a rather lavish, uncomplicated life helping his old man upkeep the business fixing transmissions and rotating tires.

He was a mechanic! How the hell did he end up in a high-speed chase in the middle of fucking nowhere?

A blare of the truck’s horn made his heart jump into his throat. What was this guy gonna do, once he got them where he wanted them? Would he really start shooting?

God, he didn’t want to kill anyone. Not someone alive at least.

Another rough bump shook the thought down, so he tried to focus on keeping them steady instead. Another mile on, and the road ahead became blocked by another pickup truck, forcing them to take a hard right.

As he turned, he spotted movement in the front seat of the car.

A sense of foreboding swept through him and once they got far enough down the road, he braved a glance. Sure enough, the rearview told him they were now being pursued by two cars.

“Tai.” Qrow hissed in warning.

But Tai wasn’t looking at the situation behind them, instead pointing forward. “Look.”

He did, squinting a bit. Though still a good few miles off, he could just barely make out the shape of a large building of some sort – taller than any of the other buildings around these parts. Unnatural and out of place.

“What is that?” He asked.

“Dunno. But I have a feeling we’re about to find out.”

The suspicion turned to truth as they continued down the road, the structure looming ever closer. Until he could make out it wasn’t a building at all, but rather a massive fence, at least two stories tall. It was made of a mismatch of materials, including timber beams, chain link mesh, and aluminum sheet metal.

It had to be sturdy though, because as they rolled up to the front gate, he could spot half a dozen people standing on platforms attached to it, three on either side of the gate.

Every single one of them held a rifle.

“What now?” Qrow barely got out around the knot in his throat.

“I…” Tai looked frantically from side to side, as if an escape route would just materialize from thin air. When nothing did, he looked to him, and for the first time since this all started, Qrow could see the fear in his eyes. “I don’t know.”

They both looked back as they heard the sound of car doors closing, the drivers of either car stepping out and heading towards them. One was a man with short brown hair, the front of it pulled up like a plumage of feathers. His shirt was sleeveless, boasting well-toned arms that promised an ill-fate for his opponents. Yet, even he seemed slightly dwarfed by his companion – a tree of a woman, solidly built, and tall. She was swinging around a giant mallet like it weighed nothing.

The two of them split, flanking their car from either side.

The man knocked on Qrow’s window, pointing down.

Getting the hint, he rolled it down.

The man rested a hand along the top of the door, leaning in. “Where y’all heading? The zoo?”

He blinked, confused – and then he remembered the army of stuffed animals in the back seat, and scowled. “Clever, asshole.”

That only seemed to amuse the other, as he chuckled. His voice was smooth and calm. He knew who was in charge here. “This one’s got some bite, don’t he Elm?”

“Sure does.” Elm replied. “And look, they’re just your type. A couple of pretty boys.”

The hair on the back of his neck stood up uncomfortably. The fuck did that mean?

Beside him, Tai took a deep breath, saying slowly. “Look, we’re not trying to start any trouble. We were just passing on through.”

“Were you now?” The man drummed his fingers on the roof above him, the noise unusually grating with Qrow’s nerves so shot. “And you just happened to come this way? Didn’t happen to see any of our warnings or blocked roads?”

“You guys did all that?” Qrow realized too late the question only made him sound falsely innocent.

“Cute. Real cute.” The easygoing smile disappeared, replaced with something rigid and dangerous. “Alright that’s enough small talk. So, let me explain how this is going to work. The two of you are going to get out of the car. You’re not going to struggle or try anything stupid, ‘cause if you do…” He lent in even further, as if he were trying to share a secret with them. “You see those people up there? They don’t have the best of aim, but they sure do got a lot of bullets. Quantity over quality and all that.”

Qrow’s hands tightened over the wheel he still hadn’t let go of. Tai’s breath hitched.

Neither of them moved.

The man gave a longsuffering sigh. “Come on now. Don’t make us drag you out.”

Another beat passed.

Then, with a reluctant click, Tai undid his seatbelt. Opened the door slowly.

“Attaboy.” The man praised, before turning his gaze to him. “Now you.”

Qrow shut his eyes, counted down from five, and finally managed to pry one hand loose. Shakily, he pulled the car into park, before doing the same as his partner and stepping out of the car.

“That’s it, nice and easy.” The other coached. “Now, arms out.”

Once, when he was young and stupid, he got pulled over for drunk driving. So, he wasn’t unfamiliar with a pat down. This was a lot more… thorough. The asshole even managed to find the swiss army knife in his back pocket.

From where he was being given much the same treatment by Elm, he heard Tai ask, “Can’t we talk about this?”

“You can sing like a bird, but it won’t do you any good until the chief gets here.” She replied.

The chief? What kind of society were they running? A tribe?

“Alright, this way.” The man tossed all his weapons onto the seat of the car, before clapping a hand down on his shoulder, pulling him forward. “Gonna need you front and center.”

Qrow reluctantly followed, fighting the urge to curl away from his touch. He grunted a bit when the other forced him down, his knees cracking painfully on the ground. Tai was manhandled into the same position beside him, grunting a bit as Elm forced him down even more roughly.

The man called over them both, “Where’s the chief?”

The tiniest of the firing squad, a dark-skinned woman with boyishly short hair, called back, “Almost here!”

“Clover.” Elm said urgently from behind them. There was a light jingling noise that Qrow couldn’t place but recognized as something passed between them.

There was a few short seconds of nothing, and then suddenly Clover was marching around them, kneeling down in front of his partner. In his hand were Tai’s dog tags. “Where did you get this?” He asked darkly.

Tai looked between them and Clover, murmuring, “They’re mine.”

“Really?” He flipped the face of it around, reading it aloud. “So, your telling me your name is Taiyang Xiao Long?”

His lips pressed into a firm, defiant frown. “Yes.”

“Bullshit.” Clover spit in his face. “Who’d you take this from?”

“I didn’t steal it from anyone.”

“Fuck off with that you-”

Qrow’s fingers clenched into fists, his own temper flaring. “Hey! Why don’t you fuck off! It’s called remarriage jackass – or is that too hard a concept for you?”

It probably wasn’t the best thing to do, if the flash of panic that passed over Tai’s face was any indication. But Clover just leveled him with a glare before getting back to his feet, letting the chain dangle from his fingers. “You know, I heard her people liked to take souvenirs from the dead. But a soldier’s tags? That’s just vile. How many of my friends’ bodies did you desecrate back at the base?”

‘Her people’? ‘Bodies’? What was this guy prattling on about?

“Wait. Just wait a second. The base?” Tai took a shaky breath. “Archer City base? You’re from there?”

Elm smacked the heel of her hammer into the ground right behind him. “We both were. It was all real nice, until your little buddies came by and slaughtered the lot of us.”

Qrow felt his stomach plummet at those words.

Tai had gone pale, his composure barely hanging on. Desperately, he croaked out, “How many survived?”

Whatever he thought of his reaction did nothing to temper the acidic hatred Clover stared down at him with. “You’re looking at ‘em.”

Had Tai been one of his actual enemies, Clover may have been proud to know how devastating a blow he’d just delivered. Regardless of it all, the damage was done. And Tai?

Tai broke. It wasn’t loud, like the way glass shatters. Rather it was subtle and unfixable, like the snapping of a flower stem.

Qrow’s own heart fractured at the way he whimpered, curling in on himself. The fleeting sunflower, already beginning to wilt and die, now that his roots were gone.

He reached out for him, hand coming to rest on his back, not caring if the lumberjack of a woman behind him smashed his entire arm flat for it.

“She’s here!” One of the squad from above called. The chain link rattled as someone ascended the platform from the other side.

Qrow paid it all only half an ear and eye, more concerned with the defeated man before him then anything this chief was going to do with them. Though, when he heard the telltale stomp of boots from above, he offered a cursory glance skyward.

She was a tall woman, with wild black hair and a curvy, powerful figure. A bandanna covered the lower half of her face, and she seemed equally disinterested in them, instead speaking with the petite woman who’d spoken before.

“Not much to say about them boss.” Clover reported. “One of them’s got some stolen tags from a Taiyang though.”

That grabbed her attention immediately, her body jerking around as she looked down at them with intense interest.

Even from here, Qrow could tell her eyes were blood red.

And then he couldn’t see them at all as, without warning, she practically raced back to the ladder as she shrilled orders at her people, “LOWER YOUR WEAPONS AND LET THEM UP! OPEN THE GATES, NOW!”

There was a sudden, confused cacophony of voices. Another sharp command and then, an equally snappish retort that bellowed above them all, “You heard her, open it!!”

Qrow caught Clover and Elm sharing a worried look between them. He felt his guard rise higher, confusion and fear melding into one. What was going on? Was she coming down there to kill Tai herself? He shifted over, trying to block Tai’s body with his own as he heard the latch of the gate come undone, slowly starting to roll open.

The chief could hardly wait for it, practically squeezing her way through.

Except at some point on the way down, she’d ripped away the mask. This close, there was no mistaking her.

“Oh my god.” Qrow whispered. “Oh my god.”

Then he was on his feet, shoes scrambling for purchase and hands clambering over the dirt to get himself up as fast as possible, taking off at a run. The rest of the world fell away, the only thing left the woman running just as fast for him – and despite it being mere seconds, it was entirely too long when they finally collided.

Her name burst from his lips like a prayer he never thought would be answered. “Raven! Oh god, Raven.”

It was impossible. She was here. She was here!

His heart beat as wild as his sister’s hair, the mane of it seeming the surround him as she buried her face into his neck and sobbed. “Qrow. You’re alive. I never thought – How’d you even get here?”

His response came out in a stammer. “Me? B-But you-! And I, I,” Oh, he was crying too.

So he stopped trying, just held on tight and let the tidal wave of emotion hit him. The grief he’d been ignoring. The guilt of having given up. The hope he never let live. The relief of her being safe. The unbelievable happiness knowing she was actually and truly alive.

“I love you.” The words burst out of him, sudden and uncontainable. As if he needed to make up for lost time. All the years he should have said it more, after the divorce had split them across the country and the forced separation left them bitter even with each other. Until the phone calls went from every day to almost never. Until they only caught up on the occasional holiday. Until he thought there was nothing worse than becoming invested into something he was destined just to lose.

But he’d been wrong. Feeling like he was completely alone was much, much worse.

“That wasn’t an answer.” She spoke around tears. “But I love you too, you stupid idiot.”

“’Stupid idiot’? Really bringing out the big guns with that one aren’t ya?” He laughed and she shoved him a bit. It was just like the old days.

“It’s just such a strong character trait, it has to be said twice.” Raven assured, wiping her face.

He was about to retort when Clover cut in between them. “Hey uh, I don’t mean to interrupt your reunion, but I think there’s something wrong with your friend.”

Qrow’s head snapped around. Like that moment in the gift shop, Tai seemed to be lost in his own head – but even further this time. He didn’t even respond to the way Elm shook him or tried to encourage him to his feet.

“Shit.” He breathed, before racing back to his side. He waved the other woman aside, kneeling down next to him. “Tai, babe? You in there?”

Nothing.

“Come on, don’t do this to me.” He murmured frantically, reaching out to hold his hand.

His sister approached, and though she appeared to be oddly taken aback, her voice was sharp and commanding, “What happened?”

Qrow waved vaguely to his left. “Your little boy scout there is what. Told him his family died.”

“What?!” The soldier barked, holding up his hands, “I did no such thing.”

He leveled him with his best glare. “’You’re looking at ‘em’? That’s what you said about the survivors. His daughters were there, asshole.”

At least, that was what Taiyang was hoping. He had banked everything he had that his little girls had made it to the safe zone and were just waiting for him to return. The unshakable belief had been the only thing keeping him sane.

Now that it was gone, he had nothing left to hold onto. Qrow didn’t know what to do, or even had the faintest clue how to pull the other back from the sea of despair he was drowning in.

Clover looked horrified. “I, but I-I didn’t-!”

“It’s fine.” Raven asserted.

“What?!” Qrow shouted. “How can you just fucking say that?!”

She leveled him with look he couldn’t even begin to decipher. “Just. Let me.”

Without any further context then that, she settled on the dirt next to them. She reached out, gripping Tai’s jaw and turning his head to face her and in a gentle octave Qrow’d never heard her use, said, “Tai, can you hear me? I need you to come back. Yang and Ruby are here.”

At the sound of his daughters’ names, Tai finally blinked, some light returning to his gaze. Encouraged, Raven lent in closer.

“They’re alive. They’re safe. But you need to wake back up if you want to see them. Can you do that for us?”

He felt the hand in his slowly starting to grip back. Whatever his sister was doing was working – and while Tai’s brain was starting back up, Qrow felt like his was doing all sorts of mental gymnastics just to catch up. How did she know Tai’s kids? Were they really beyond those gates? Did they talk about their dad enough that she just knew who he had to be?

The real answer turned out to be exceedingly more simple and absolutely mind-bending, because Tai finally croaked out, “Rae?”

His sister smiled and responded as if it were the most natural thing on earth, “Yeah, it’s me.”

The words echoed on repeat in his ears. Rae. As in, Tai’s first girlfriend Rae. Yang’s mother? Was also Raven, his sister?!

Qrow felt like he was going to need one of these quiet-talk therapy sessions because now he wasn’t sure he was entirely all here anymore.

The world was still intent on moving on whether he was there or not though. Tai inhaled shakily, practically pleading, “And, the girls? They’re really-?”

“Come see for yourself.” Raven stood.

Taking a moment to gather himself, Qrow followed suit, pulling Tai up with him. He led him towards the entrance, shooting a look at his sister that promised they were going to talk about this.  

She avoided his eye and fell in step with them, calling first to the firing squad still above them, “Hey, show’s over! Back to your jobs!” Then to the soldiers, “Clover, Elm. Bring in that car and then get back to your posts.”

“Yes ma’am.” Clover saluted. “And uh, Qrow, Tai?” Only Qrow looked back – holding up his hand to catch Tai’s tags when he tossed them his way. “Sorry.”

He nodded, pocketing them. He made a mental note to make sure the other man gave twice as good an apology to Tai when his lover was more present.

They stepped through the gate and it was like entering a long-forgotten world. The road continued on straight – but the acres of fields on either side were busy with tents, motor homes, and even a few trailers, everyone making do with whatever shelter they could find. People were milling about, doing all sorts of things. He could see some older men in lawn chairs, enraptured by a game of Chinese Checkers. A team was working with various gardening tools to clear up some free land. Another team was working on the skeleton of a structure against one of the walls that was looking like the beginning of a home. Pens were built towards the back, a few cows and a chicken coop in view and there were a few fire pits speckled around the facility, once in use as several people boiled and stored water.

A sense of surrealism enveloped him. They’d been on their own so long, he almost forgot what normal life could look like.

“This almost doesn’t feel real.” Qrow admitted, eyeing a young pair sparring in the shade of the wall.

“You get used to it.” Raven replied, leading them towards the west side of the colony. “We all keep pretty busy. Everyone’s got a job here; a way to contribute. We take care of each other, keep each other safe.”

He scoffed. “That why we got chased halfway to hell getting here?”

“It’s… preventative.” She explained. “We just want to make sure everyone comes to the front door.”

“So you can shoot them.”

“If they give us reason to.”

He gaped at her, aghast.

Raven sighed, walking in-between the space of two parked RVs. “This world doesn’t have rules anymore and there are a lot of bad people willing to take advantage of that.”

“Like at the base.” It was a surprise to both of them to hear Tai speak. “What happened there?”

Something dark flittered along his sister’s face, before she looked away. “Another group wanted what we had. So, one night, they rammed down the gates with a few semitrucks filled to the brim with biters to get it. There was over a thousand of us there. Now there’s only a little over a hundred of us.”

“Christ.” Qrow cursed. He couldn’t even fathom it. What kind of mindset did someone have to have to do something so willingly vicious?

“These people already lost everything twice over now. They’re looking to me to make sure they don’t lose more.” She stood a little taller, her voice strong and confidant. A voice people would find faith in following. “So yeah, I’ll scare even God himself away from our gates if that’s what it takes.”

If there was a concern to take away from all that, the day had been much too harrowing and long to put any honest consideration to it. So, he just let it lie, a gnat in the back of his thoughts for now.

He figured any other conversation was probably moot anyways, as when they rounded another trailer home the field opened up to what appeared to be a small picnic and playground area. In the center between the various tables and play equipment was a canopy tent, providing shade to the small gathering of children underneath it. They were all sitting in the grass, listening to the woman before them as she read aloud.

Tai’s grip had become iron tight, breath shallowing out.

As they drew near, Raven spoke up, “Summer, mind if we interrupt?”

The disruption drew everyone’s gaze on them, eyes wide and curious at the strange newcomers in their midst. Their teacher, Summer, seemed as equally spellbound, the book she’d been reading falling right out of her hands.

From the front, Qrow caught movement as one of the students stood, and he saw his niece for the first time. For even if the color was Tai’s, there was really no mistaking that wild mane for anyone other than a carbon copy of Raven’s – no matter how much those flimsy pigtails tried to tame it. She had to of been around eight or nine and she had a gangly appearance about her, the same way he had been during most of his childhood while he was still growing. He hoped she wouldn’t get his outrageously long legs.

Beside her, another girl stood. Had he not already known she was only two years apart from Yang, he would have mistaken little Ruby for being even younger. She was tiny, something that would probably follow her all the way through to adulthood. Unlike her sister, who seemed to be a mismatch of both her parents, she was practically a miniature version of the woman just behind her, right down to the silver eyes.

“Dad!” Yang shouted, shoving her way through the crowd recklessly. With her clearing the path, Ruby had no trouble following, letting loose a shrill cry of her own.

Whatever trance Tai had been transfixed in broke immediately, and he tore away to clear the distance between him and them, falling to his knees as they reached each other. Finally, finally after what had probably felt like an eternity to the father, he was able to scoop both of them up into his arms and hold them close, sobbing with unashamed abandon as he bestowed them with kisses and I love you’s.

Qrow heart melted at the sight, blinking away tears of his own as a delirium of happiness overtook him.

Raven wound an arm over his shoulders, pulling him against her once more. It grounded him, reminding him this was all actually happening. The little farm home he’d envisioned earlier crumbled away. In its place something new and bigger formed. His sister, Tai’s girls, and this little piece of land and community – their Beacon of hope in the middle of nowhere – was all part of his reality. Their reality.

They were home.

[coyotesongwriting]

Home - Ch. 3

Chapter 3 - Fresh Start

Chapter Summary: Bucky’s gone, and so are you. What happens when you find out some big news?

Word Count: 3222

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading this story and I hope you enjoy it. I’ve tried a new writing style for this fic and I can definitely say it’s not my cup of tea but I love the story anyways!

Disclaimer: I don’t own the characters so don’t sue me please. I just really like them haha

Previous Chapter              Series Masterlist

May You weren’t sure where you were headed when you left the compound, but you knew you had to go as far as you could. For the next two weeks, you wandered wherever the road took you in the Ford Explorer Fury had gifted you. At first, you traveled down to Florida and spent a few days on the coast. The smell of the fish that seemed to permeate the harbor areas left you feeling ill though, and you decided it was time to move. You slowly made your way along the southern coast, stopping in New Orleans for a few days to take in all the sights you’d always wanted to see. You even did a few of the cheesy ghost tours, a part of you hoping that maybe you would receive a sign from Bucky, but knowing you wouldn’t.

As you drove through Texas, you took the old two-lane roads through the middle of nowhere. On one hot summer day, you were driving when you saw a dog on the side of the road. The large German Shepherd mix was tied to a pole on the side of the road, a piece of paper that said ‘free’ taped to it above his lead. The dog had been tied out in the heat with no water for who knows how long, and without a second thought, you loaded him up into your car. Pouring some water into your hands, you gave him a bit before rushing him to the vet in San Antonio.

According to the vet, if you hadn’t come along when you did, someone would have found a dead dog in the summer sun. The vet scanned him for a microchip and was able to find out his name was Rex. His owner’s information was all outdated though, and when they asked what you wanted to do, you didn’t hesitate to say that he was staying with you. You found a hotel room nearby and stayed for the two days Rex spent at the vet, waiting for him to be given a clean bill of health. Every day, you went to visit him for as long as you could. He was always happy to see you and seemed to know you had saved him from a slow and horrible death. You constantly were texting the Avengers pictures of Rex, and Clint immediately claimed him as his godson.

When the day came that you finally got to pick him, you took him to the pet store where you bought him all the supplies he’d need, a nice collar, bed, leash, food bowls, treats, all of it. That night, Rex climbed onto the bed next to you and fell asleep with his head resting on your stomach. For the first time since losing Bucky, you finally slept through the night.

Back on the road, you drove until you reached Sedona, Arizona. There, you decided, was going to be your first stop. The beauty of the surrounding mountains and cliffs surrounded you, and it was completely unlike the forests and meadows you’d called home in upstate New York. The desert was never going to be the place you’d permanently settle down, but it was the perfect place to spend a few months, to heal before attempting to build a permanent life somewhere with Rex.

You found a small apartment on the outskirts of town with a balcony overlooking the cliffs and made it your own. It didn’t take long before you found a job at one of the diners in town working as a cook. You settled into the different lifestyle quickly and made a new routine, one that was reliable and without danger.

In the mornings, you’d take Rex for a jog on the hiking trail behind the apartments. By the time it started to heat up, you were back at the apartment, and Rex was relaxing. You’d go to the apartment’s gym where you’d do some basic exercises, even if you weren’t an Avenger anymore you wanted to be sure you were in shape just in case something happened. After that, you got ready for your shift and went to cook for the dinner rush.

Every day, you checked in with Nat and Sam, and usually one of the others. Everyone wanted to make sure you were doing alright and to be honest, you were. Things were hard of course, and you missed Bucky, you always would, but you were learning to live a new life. One that wasn’t haunted by the ghost of him. One where you didn’t have to worry every day about whether or not your friends would die in front of you.

June A month after getting settled into Sedona, you received a phone call from Steve. It was a late Tuesday night, and you’d just finished your shift at the diner, and you were walking back to your apartment down the quiet streets when you answered.

“[Y/N], we have to make the announcement” Steve’s voice was soft, careful as he spoke.

The warm night air seemed suddenly suffocating. You’d been so wrapped up in your own guilt that you forgot that to the rest of the world, Bucky was still alive somewhere, doing his job as an Avenger. When he first joined the team, he’d gotten mixed reviews from people on the street. Half the people they ran into feared him, blaming him for what he’d done as the winter soldier. The others seemed to understand and were more than willing to welcome him on as one of Earth’s Defenders. Over the years, he had managed to change the doubter’s minds and it wasn’t long before there was even fan merchandise being sold of him. Unlike Tony, he hadn’t relished the spotlight and tried to stand back whenever he could.

While you and Bucky had been more than happy to come out as a couple to the team, you’d decided to keep your relationship private. Since you always wore a photostatic veil when you were in public as one of the avengers, you didn’t want to make things awkward if someone saw him out with you when you weren’t wearing a disguise. He didn’t need the bad publicity if someone saw him kissing you with and without the veil. Besides, it was nice having something for just you and the team, one part of your life that didn’t belong to the world.

The realization struck you, the moment the world found out about his death? He’d be everywhere. You may have left the Avengers in the hope of avoiding his ghost, which still followed you, but the moment it was announced you’d see his face everywhere. The news coverage that would come was sure to run nonstop for days. There’d be a public funeral service.  Bucky’s death would surround you once again, and this time you’d have no choice but to wait it out.

“[Y/N]?” Steve’s voice drew you out of your thoughts, reminding you of his presence.

“Y-yeah. Can you give me a little bit? A few days. Please. I just need to be ready.”

“Saturday, we have to do it then. People are beginning to ask why they haven’t seen him around lately and we can’t keep hiding this. There’s going to be a lot of questions” he paused before continuing, “People have been asking about you too.”

“Okay. That’s fine, that’ll work” your voice was nervous, trying to reassure yourself it would be alright, “What are you going to tell them about me?”

“You can still come back, you know. We miss you. Even Tony misses you.”

“I know. But I’m not coming back. I can’t. I can’t do that. I can’t watch one of you die again. I can’t do it again.”

“I can’t say if you come back you’ll never be in that position again, but we need you. It’s not the same without both of you…”

“No. I know, I miss you guys, I get it. But I can’t - won’t - go through that again”

“I just worry about you. Bucky wouldn’t want you to do this.”

“Bucky’s dead, Steve. We don’t know what he’d want, but he’d want me to be happy and I can’t stay there and pretend everything’s fine, okay?”

“Come home, [Y/N].” Steve’s voice lost the softness, his stubbornness setting in.

You could feel the frustration in you rising as Steve’s attitude changed. You’d been more touchy lately, but who wouldn’t be after losing the person they were meant to spend the rest of their life with?

“I am home.” you slid your key into the lock of your front door and were greeted by Rex’s wagging tail.

“You know what I mean.” he sighed, frustrated.

“No. No, I don’t. Because the complex isn’t my home, not anymore.”

“[Y/N]-”

“Look. I have to go. I just got in and I’m exhausted. You’re making the announcement on Saturday. I get it.”

“Come home. Please.”

You didn’t answer him, merely hanging up the phone. You set your phone on the small entry table by the door and leaned back against the door behind you. Sliding down, you sat on the floor, back against the door as the tears overwhelmed you again. You were getting better, truly. You could usually get through the day without crying by this point, but sometimes things were just too hard.

Looking back all you could see were the mistakes that were made. The things you could have done to save him. And in your darkest times, when it seemed like dawn would never come, you blamed Steve. If he hadn’t made you wait, you could have gotten to him in time. You could have warned him. You could have gotten him out of there, and you wouldn’t be here today. Blaming Steve wasn’t fair, you knew that, but sometimes it was hard to forget that.

Rex nuzzled his way into your face, and your hands closed around him, pulling him close as you broke. While you may have saved him, he’d more than repaid you since you brought him home. On the days you felt alone, he was always by your side. When you didn’t even want to get out of bed, he was there nudging you and making sure you got things handled. When you broke down at night, he was happy to lay with you and offer you a listening ear.

The night passed slowly, seeming to creep by. You slept in fits, but Rex was there every time you woke up. His calm presence lured you back to sleep every time. In your dreams, Bucky was there by your side again and things were good, things were happy and you got to relive some of your favorite memories.

The next morning, you called your boss, asking for Saturday and Sunday off. You’d been working every night since they hired you on. Not having days off meant you could live in the same routine day in and out, no surprises or confusion. Your manager quickly approved the request, and you began to plan.

Saturday came, and in the early morning hours you packed up your car with some supplies and Rex and set off on the five-hour drive to Apache-Sitgreaves National Forest. The forest there would give you the perfect chance to ride out the worst of the news coverage, give the world a chance to get over the shock while you were away.

You shut off your phone, knowing that if you left it on you’d be too distracted by what’s happening to focus on getting on getting away. The drive was nice, and you kept the music soft, not in the mood for anything loud at the time. On your drive to Sedona after finding Rex, you’d learned he was one of those pups who truly loved car trips. His antics as you drove kept your mind off the reason for the trip.

The towering pines and cool mountain weather enveloped you as pulled into the campground. The campground was all but deserted, only one other camper nearby and for that you were grateful. When you planned the trip, you feared that the campground would be busy and you’d be surrounded by couples and families, unable to get the chance to escape. Instead, you were able to focus on the peace and quiet of the forest.

The weekend passed quickly, too quickly for your liking. You and Rex spent the time hiking throughout the forest. Rex was eager to see it all, his exuberance reminding you that he was only a year old. For that, you were grateful. The idea of losing him, your only anchor left in the world, left your breath stuttering. Watching him bound after a squirrel, stopped by the leash, brought a quick burst of laughter from your lips, and with that, you left fears of losing him behind.

During your hike on Sunday, you stumbled upon a herd of wild horses. When you’d first decided to camp here you’d heard they had wild horses here, but you figured you’d never be lucky enough to see one. They were off in the distance across the meadow from you and didn’t seem bothered by your presence. The band stallion watched you for a moment when you first left the trees but quickly turned his attention back to his family, his mares too busy keeping an eye on their roughhousing foals to worry about you. You watched them with Rex for an hour before the herd moved on.

Monday morning seemed to arrive in the blink of an eye, and the dread you’d managed to put out of your mind all weekend crawled back in. Packing up the car, you kept eyeing the phone in the center console, terrified of what you would see when you inevitably turned it back on. For a long moment, you considered just not. Just leaving the phone behind, taking Rex, and running back into the wilderness.

But you couldn’t. Bucky’s death lay heavy on your shoulders, and you couldn’t face yourself if you had run from what happened. No, you had to face the music. And so, you did. The drive back to Sedona was a much more somber trip than the drive away, and you found your mind constantly wandering back to your phone, to what you’d turn it back on to find.

It wasn’t until you were back at your apartment with Rex napping at your feet, that you turned on your phone. It began to flood with notifications, emails from news organizations, and companies chiming in on his death. Texts from the avengers trying to check in on you grew more worried as the days ticked on. Quickly you shot off a text to them, letting them know you were okay, that you’d taken the weekend to go camping and hadn’t had phone reception. Almost immediately, you got responses from Nat and Sam, telling you they’d been worried. Steve’s response was to yell at you for scaring him. You didn’t text him back.

July It wasn’t until you’d been settled in Sedona for two months that you realized something was wrong. At first, you’d chalked missing your period off to stress, who wouldn’t be stressed after losing someone like that? But after four missed periods, you knew it was time to take a test. After your jog that day, you came home with three different kinds of tests, unsure what you hoped the answer would be. Within 15 minutes, the results were in.

Calling around, you were able to get a doctor’s appointment the next day for an official pregnancy test. Nerves ate at you about the idea of being a single mom, and a big part of you contemplated packing up and going back to the Avengers. If you chose to stay away from the Avengers, you’d be denying your kid the chance to really know their family, and your friends turned family the chance to know their niece or nephew.

The next morning your blood was drawn and within a few hours, they had the official results. You were pregnant. It wasn’t just a batch of faulty tests, it was definite. While the idea of going home to the Avengers, of having that support system,  was a huge draw, you feared that going back would put you back in the same mental place you fled to get out of. With a baby on the way, could you really risk that?

You pulled out your phone, dialing Nat and before she could even say hello, you spoke, “Hey. Can you get everyone together?”

“Yeah, is everything okay?” she asked, before letting out a loud whistle. Clint loved to joke she’d trained them like dogs because they’d always come running when she whistled once.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’d just rather only tell this all once”  you let out a nervous breath as you waited.

Within a few seconds, everyone had gathered on Nat’s line and after a quick round of hellos, you took a deep breath before blurting out, “I’m pregnant. About four and a half months along.”

The silence that came across the line was deafening, and you waited anxiously to hear how they’d react. Steve was the first to speak, “Y-you’re pregnant? With Bucky’s kid?” his voice was unsure.

“Yeah. Went to the doctor today and got it confirmed. I’m due in early January” you bit your lip, pulling it between your teeth nervously.

“Congrats, kid” you could hear the smile in Clint’s voice, and you let out a nervous breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding, “I guess I shouldn’t call you kid anymore though, huh?”

“Probably not” you chuckled softly.

“What are you going to do, [Y/N]?” Tony chimed in.

“What am I going to do?” you repeated back curiously, “I’m going to have my kid and raise them up the best I can.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Steve’s voice was quiet.

“Yes I’m sure I’m up to raising my own child, Steve.” your voice was hard.

“That’s not what I meant. I just - I meant you could always come back. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“I know what you meant, Steve. And no, I’m not going to come back because I’m pregnant. If anything, this just tells me I made the right call. I don’t want to raise a kid in that world, always having to wonder if I’m coming home or if they’re going to lose someone they love too.”

“You don’t have to rejoin us, you can just come home, you don’t have to fight.”

“Steve, no. I’m finally doing alright out here. I’ve got Rex, and soon I’ll have my kid, and I’m moving on. I’m not going to just move back to the compound because I’m pregnant. Women do this on their own every year. Look, I just wanted to share my news I wasn’t looking for a fight. I’m going to do what’s right for me and my kid” by the end, your voice was a low growl.

For a long moment, no one spoke. When silence began to echo down the line, you hung up and began to go about your day, hoping to forget their apparent doubt in you and your ability to be a good mom. You didn’t.

Next Chapter -> 

Taglist OPEN:  @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @queenoftheunderdark @redfoxwritesstuff​ @brokenthelovely  @collinsstanharbour​  @samsgoddess​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @winterisakiller​

[writingkeepsmewhole]

The Mark Part 3 Amora

This is part 3 of The Mark

This is from Amora’s POV

Fic Summary: AU where everyone is born with half a mark on their body. The other half being on their mates body.

Part Summary: Amora gets an invitation to the ball. 

Dean Winchester x OC Amora Black

Warnings: I don’t think there is any

Let me know if you want to be tagged.@fariesandwanderlust @all-will-be-well-love​ 

Part 1  Part 2

Me and Eva were in my room cleaning. Well that’s what we were meant to be doing. At the moment we were blasting music and dancing like a bunch of teenagers.

Hearing the doorbell I didn’t care to dance my way down the steps and to the front door.

I opened it to find a tall browned eyed man.

“May I help you?” I asked, smiling politely at him.

“Hello?” I asked, lifting an eyebrow after he didn’t say anything.

I sighed thinking that he was staring at my scars. Taking a second glance I realized that he was looking at my mark. The shock covered his face.

At first I thought it was because he may have the same mark but I quickly forgot that thought when I took note of the black rings wrapped around half his forearm.

“Umm did you need something?” I ask again.

“Oh umm right I’m meant to give this to a-” He says looking down at the envelope in his hand.

“A Amora Black.”

“That’s me.” I say smiling.

“So when did the post office start hand delivering let-” I stop once I looked down at the letter.

It was directly from the Capital.

“Umm you have to open it so that-.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” I say opening the letter as Eva comes bounding down the steps.

“Who was-. Oh hello.” She says smiling at the man at the door.

“Eva meet-” I stop looking at him.

“Oh uh Sam.” He says smiling.

“Eva, meet Sam. Sam, meet Eva.” I say pointing at them as I introduce them. 

“Who is he and why is he here?” She asks not so quietly, whispering in my ear.

“Ask him.” I say pulling the letter out.

I drowned out Eva talking to Sam to read.

Dear Amora Black

We invite you to attend this year's annual ball. 

It’s come to our attention that this fall you will be turning twenty-five, allowing you to be apart of the gathering of potential Mates for Prince Adam the third. 

Please make haste to the castle where you will be welcomed wholeheartedly, as a beloved guest. 

Sincerely Queen Mary  

I looked up to see that Eva was reading a letter as well. Made since Sam had one for her as well given the fact she lived right beside me.

“Thank you.” I say smiling at him.

“Do you mind if I ask what made Queen Mary hand them out personally?”

“Oh it has always been this way.”

“My parents didn’t get a letter.”

“Then they were already mated before twenty-five.”

“How did you know?” 

“Because only people who have not been mated yet are allowed to go to the ball.”

“Trust me I doubt my mate will be there.” I say laughing softly.

Even though I didn’t know what kind of man he was I could just tell by how much he got hurt he was not a Ball type of man.

“He will be there, it's the law. He has to go.” Eva says smiling brightly at me.

“She’s right. He’ll be there.” Sam says smiling a warm knowing smile. 

As if he was talking to his family. As if he knew me somehow.

“We will see. Thank you again.” I say smiling politely at him and shutting the door as he turned to walk down the stone path to the road.

“That was not strange at all.” I say moving to look at Eva.

“What’s with you?” I ask, seeing her still staring at the door.

“Do you think I will find my mate there?” She asks, turning to look at me with a hopeful look in her eye.

“Yes.” I sat truthfully.

“You keep saying you feel different. Your heart knows trust in it.” 

Smiling a turn to go up stairs.

“You need to go home and rest, we have a whole day of shopping to do tomorrow.” I say hearing a happy squeal from her then the front door shutting.

Walking into my room I was overwhelmed by a fiery heat rushing through my veins. Grabbing the door frame I had to resit the urge to clench my jaw as pain and anger washed over me. 

The feeling of longing mixed in as I wanted more than anything to be there for Him to help him with whatever was hurting him. 

I could only compare it to the feeling of when my parents died. Wanted nothing more than to know why it happened. 

Using the wall I walked to my bed laying down slowly. I curled in a ball praying it would stop soon. 

It was not until new bruises appeared on my knuckles did the feeling fade. I closed my eyes slowly fading into darkness as sleep consumed me.

I woke up to being shook softly. Groaning I opened my eyes to see Kayla smiling brightly at me.

“Guess what?” She asked plopping down on my bed.

“What?” I asked my voice rough from sleep sitting up.

“He is here.”

“Who?” I asked, rubbing my eyes, my mind still foggy with sleep.

“My mate, he is in town!”

“How do you know?”

“Because this morning I woke up really excited for some reason. It has to be him right?” She asked looking at me, her blue eyes bright reminding me of my mother when she would talk about dad.

Smiling, I nod hugging her.

“Go get dressed and you can come shopping with me and Eva but only if you hurry.” 

“Okay but don't leave without me!” She yells running out of my room just to run into the door frame.

“Ow.”

“Careful.” I say getting out of bed walking over to my dresser.

I quickly get dressed in a black tank top with a rib cage on it, a black pair of skinny jeans, a fake leather jacket, and black boots.

I walked into the bathroom just as the front door opened.

“Honey I’m home!” Yelled Eva making me laugh and shake my head. 

“Up here!” I say already hearing her come up the steps.

“Well don’t you look sexy.” She says winking at me through the mirror.

Laughing I lean over the counter putting eyeliner on.

“Are you getting excited for tonight?” She asks, smiling at me as she jumps up on the counter.

“You know me I don’t get excited for anything.” I say smiling when she glares at me slightly. 

“Yes Eva I’m a little excited for tonight but I don’t think I’m going to meet Him if that’s what you think?”

“Aww why not?” She asked pouting.

“Because I haven't felt anything so he can’t be too close.”

“That don’t always-”

“Ready!” yelled Kayla running into the bathroom.

“Oh nice shirt.” She says smiling at me her hair pulled up showing her face better.

“Thanks.” Both me and Eva say ending in all three of us laughing.

“So are we ready?” Kayla asks, looking at me as I pull my hair up into a high ponytail. 

“Yes, let's go ladies.” 

I walked into the mall behind Eva and Kayla then quickly went to the only dress shop in the whole place. We lived in the small town surrounding the castle so we didn’t have the biggest mall. Just a couple of shops we didn’t even have a food court. It really was just a large building with fifteen or twenty small stores in it. 

I sighed not really wanting to be here but I promised Eva. I let her drag me around from store to store until she found everything she needed for her outfit. 

We returned home Kayla and Eva skipping ahead of me laughing at something. 

I walked into my room locking the door. Eva home, us deciding to surprise each other with our finished work. 

Walking into the bathroom I stripped stepping into the shower. Taking a breath I put my face into the water hoping it untangled the growing knot in my stomach. If I let them my nerves would make my heart race and I was trying my best to not get my hopes up. 

Once I was clean I stepped out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel. Walking to my vanity I sat on the chair in front of it. I looked at the mirror, my cherry red hair sticking to my skin. Meeting my dusty blue eyes I took a deep breath having very mixed emotions about tonight. Wanting to finally meet him but also scared of meeting him. Fearing I could never be strong enough to live with what covered our bodies in scars. Fearing I would lose him as soon as I met him. 

Literally shaking my head to clear my thoughts. I pressed the button on my MP3 letting the first song fill my ears. It's a soft guitar distracting me. 

Grabbing my hair I set to work on getting ready. Twisting my hair, and pinning it here and there I soon had my hair done in a half braid. 

The bottom half fell down my back in curls. A few pieces framing my face. 

I set to do my makeup. It is a dark smokey eye to bring out my odd color eyes. A soft rose lip color and very little blush. Once I was done with that I got dressed. My dress was simple. 

One because I couldn't afford anything else and I was never one for being flashy. 

It was strapless, the only dress I could find that showed my mark. It was law to show your mark. So you couldn't lie to the Royal family. My dress was black except for the purple and green glitter dusted on it from the waist down. It was loose and flowy. The top half is sticking to my shape. It stopped right at my knees. Letting me wear black heels. I didn't bother with jewelry not having anything​ that matched. 

Looking at myself in the mirror I took a deep breath. 

"Show time." I say leaving my room.

Kayla was sitting on the couch with her best friend, Aqua​. A dark skinned beautiful girl. With curly hair you would kill for.

"OMG you look so pretty!" Aqua says loudly with a bright smile on her face.

"Thank you Aqua." I say smiling.

"Your mate is gonna die when he sees you." Kayla says.

"I hope not." I say earning a laugh from both of them.

"Well I need to go." I say heading towards the door.

I stop when I feel arms around me.

I twist to see Kayla hugging me. Smiling, I hug her back, her quickly running back to the couch as if it never happened.

"Be good." I say looking at the both of them. 

Leaving the house I'm not surprised to see Eva standing at the end of the path leading to my front door.

She was dressed in a bright red dress that held close to her frame showing off her curves. Her hair was up with long black earrings helping you notice her mark. She had a necklace that matched and black heels.

"You look so pretty!" We both say at the same time making us both laugh.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask smiling.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She says grinning. 

The Castle was not exactly a castle. It was once a few hundred years ago. The only thing left of it even standing here was it’s towers. 

Two large towers stood twenty feet over the rest of the mansion.

People say that's where they keep the royal children until they find their mate.

That’s something I never could wrap my head around. Locking someone up away from the world. But who was I to tell royals how to raise their children.

I knew things were going to be different after tonight I just didn’t know how.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Burned Part 24

Summary:  Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 23: 

           “Fucking hell, Tommy, you really need glasses don’t you?”

           It took Alfie a full breath to realize he hadn’t been shot and was still very alive. He heard the bullet zip right by his ear but never made contact with flesh. “You’ve gone blind or have you got the shakes now?”

           Tommy didn’t say a word, instead, he simply waited.

           “Alfie?” Louise came running out of the cottage only moments later. She was holding her gun, ready to shot Tommy Shelby if need be. But she was relieved to see both men were still standing and unharmed.

           “It’s alright, Louise, I was just showing Alfie this new pistol,” Tommy called back to her standing on the dunes.

           Alfie’s wife looked irritated. “Well, I don’t appreciate you both firing off without warning. The baby is trying to sleep.”

           The Jewish gangster became choked up and couldn’t speak. He simply stared at her standing there with a gun in hand.

           “Sorry, we’ll keep it down.” Tommy nodded and fiddled with his gun, letting the last bullet left in the barrel to fall out into his palm.

           “Breakfast will be done soon, Alfie.” Louise continued. “Come inside when you’re done.” And with that, she returned inside.

           Tommy walked over and placed the bullet in Alfie’s hand. “See that? She would’ve come out and shot me for what I did to you.” He explained in a low voice. “Then, what’d you think would happen, aye? I’ve got a family of fucking animals, ‘ccording to you.”

           Alfie was speechless, something he seldom was. His fingers curled around the bullet in a delayed response.

           “Arthur isn’t dead.” Tommy continued speaking as he returned the gun into the inside of his coat. “Luca Changretta is. Whatever you’ve done, you did it to protect her and your son. I can understand that. I would’ve done the same thing. You’re retired now so we can put this matter to rest. I can mentor Ollie, if you’d like, let him work your bakery back up. That’ll be the end of fighting between the Blinders and the Jews. But if I hear you’ve been involved with the business again, I won’t miss.” Tommy said firmly. “Trust me when I say Louise would much rather have you around for the time you’ve got left. Because you don’t know how long you have. Could be years. Years that you would be better off spending with your wife and boy.”

           Alfie slowly pocketed the bullet as if he were accepting the terms of Tommy’s new lease on his life. “You’ve got more planned, Tommy?” He asked.

           The Blinder reached for a cigarette. “I do.” He answered curtly. “Business you won’t want to be involved with, too legitimate for your liking.”

           Alfie nodded and sighed. “Done with doing all the dirty work, aye? Think you’ll get tired of it, mate.”

           “Well, until then, I’ll be alright. As will you.” Tommy held out his hand to shake.

           The other man obliged.

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

           The walk up the dunes was much longer than it appeared. Alfie kept his palm wrapped around the bullet in his pocket. His heart was still beating unbearably fast. He’d nearly gone through with taking his own life via Tommy Shelby. According to plan, he shouldn’t have been walking back up to the cottage.

           But Tommy was dead on. Had Louise seen Alfie bleeding out in the sand, she would’ve shot him without hesitating. Whether it be because of a broken heart, revenge, or in fear she and Teddy were the next victims. Then what next? The Blinders would be after her for killing their kin. Alfie felt stupid for not even considering retaliation from his wife. Without question, she would seriously injure or kill anyone who attacked her family.

           Things were just as he’d left them. The moment he walked out the door assuming he wouldn’t walk back. Louise was finishing up in the kitchen and Teddy was still fast asleep in his bassinette.

           “Honestly, sometimes I wonder about that man.” Louise huffed. “Shooting a gun when he damn well knows Teddy is up here. Scared me half to death, I thought he’d killed you!”

           Alfie felt like he couldn’t breathe. He was overwhelmed with the feeling of happiness. Being given a new lease on life with the woman he loved. “It were my fault.” He excused weakly.

           “Hmpf, men and their guns.” She shook her head and placed two plates down at the small breakfast nook.

           He smiled and hugged her. “You’re lovely.” He murmured softly and kissed her cheek. There didn’t seem like any other route he wanted to take. He thought disposing of himself would be easiest for everyone involved. But perhaps Tommy was right. Louise kept him stronger and kept him fighting. With her, by his side, he had a chance of living out at least a few more years. Maybe even a bit longer without the stress of the bakery on his shoulders. Still, it didn’t matter if he dropped dead the next day. As long as he knew he was going peacefully with Louise. For so long he assumed he would die by the sword, die by the lifestyle he so viciously pursued. But maybe cancer was just a bigger sword. A bigger battle he had to face. And he had faced so many battles with Louise by his side. What was one more?

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

           Retirement was a lot easier when you had a growing baby to raise. Alfie was sure that if they didn’t have Teddy he’d be driving himself and Louise crazy with boredom. He had grown into the role as a family man and by Hanukah, he felt perfectly comfortable as a father.

           They hadn’t been back at Camden together since Louise gave birth to Teddy. It was nice to be in the countryside or on the shores in Margate but it was also lovely to be back with family and friends. Back to the place where Louise and Alfie fell in love.

           Ollie’s house sparked with noise when they saw Alfie enter with a little bundle in his arms. He smiled and nodded. “Alright, alright, start the bidding at three pounds, who wants him first?”

           “Oh, Alfie.” Louise sighed and rolled her eyes at him auctioning over their baby.

           Tante Raisa managed to get a hold of Teddy first. She cradled the baby close and whispered soft Yiddish blessings to him. “Alfie, such a handsome boy!” She exclaimed while Alfie took his wife’s coat. “You both must be so proud.”

           “What’s the name then?” Ollie walked over with two of his kids hanging off his legs. “Alfie Jr?”

           His former boss laughed and shook his head. “Louise wouldn’t let that one happen. Theodore Solomons. We call him Teddy.” He answered and looked fondly at his son in Raisa’s arms.

           “But we gave him a Hebrew name as well,” Louise added with a smile. “Tovi.”

           “My good,” Alfie explained the meaning of the name.

           Raisa smiled warmly and touched Teddy’s cheek. “I’m sure he’ll bring you a lot of good.” She turned. “Eva, come see the baby!” She exclaimed.

           “And he’s not our problem for the rest of the evening.” Alfie teased and wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist. She smiled and allowed herself to be tempted away by Vera and Evelyn. Alfie watched as she happily fawned over Evelyn’s engagement ring. Ishmael had finally proposed once he got a substantial cut from Alfie’s retirement.

           The small apartment was full of good spirits and warm hearts. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood and reflecting on the year. After the meal, Ollie stood up to make a bit of a toast.

           “I just wanted to say another congratulation to Evelyn and Ishmael for their engagement. It’s about time.”

           Ishmael’s face turned red but he smiled and wrapped an arm around his fiancée who looked overjoyed.

           “And Alfie and Louise. Who knew a little boy would be the thing to make him retire.” Ollie joked.

           Louise laughed softly. Teddy was fast asleep in her arms despite the celebration around him. She glanced over and half expected Alfie to be there but she didn’t see him. Frowning, she scanned the party in the parlor to find her husband. Still, there was no sight of him.

           “Alfie?” Ollie realized the man wasn’t in the room either. “Did he step out?”

           Louise sighed. “Shay, will you take Teddy?” She handed the baby to Ollie’s wife before stepping out of the apartment. The winter air was a big shock after being in the warm company of family.

           She shivered and pulled on her coat, wrapping it tightly around herself. The streets of Camden were empty; most were inside celebrating the holidays. The apartments lining the streets were all lit up, casting a glow over the freezing, gray streets.

           There was only one place Alfie would be in Camden. So she began walking down the lane to the bakery, which wasn’t too far from Ollie’s.

~~~~~~~~~~

           The doors were still as heavy as always when Louise pushed her shoulder against them. She was relieved to see her husband standing in the center of the bare bakery. His heavy black coat and wide-brimmed hat making him the largest thing in the room.

           “Alfie?” She spoke quietly so she didn’t startle him.

           He turned and smiled weakly. “What’re doing here, love?”

           “You came up missing and I assumed you came here.” She walked over to him, her heels clicking loudly across the concrete floor and echoing. “Ollie was toasting you.”

           He chuckled and ran a hand over his beard. “That right? Well, glad I wasn’t there. Don’t usually like being called out like that.” He shrugged sheepishly and held out a hand to her.

           She took it and let him pull her close, burying her in his warm layers. His scent had changed after his retirement. No longer did he smell like rum on a daily basis. Instead, he had taken on the scent of Margate, even if he didn’t realize it. Louise inhaled softly and relished in the comforting scent of sandalwood. She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his chest. Alfie kissed the scarf covering her hair.

           “What are you thinking?” She asked quietly. It was so strange being inside the bakery again. It didn’t feel like the same place now that it was so empty. It felt like a ghost town without the shouts of the bakers, sounds of heavy boots, the loud clanging of machinery, and the occasional barking from Alfie. The building had lost its soul. But it didn’t make her sad; it only made her nostalgic in a way.

           “First met you here, didn’t I?” He murmured. “Right out there, standing like a lost little flower.”

           She smiled and looked up at him. “With a few missing petals.”

           He nodded and ran a thumb down her cheek. “This is where I fell in love with you.”

           Louise gratefully leaned into his touch. “Mhm…”

           “This is where I killed that fucking terrible excuse for a human.” He grumbled and subtly glanced over to the spot where Daniel had finally fallen after stabbing him.

           Louise hardly even thought about her ex. Barely even considered him her late husband anymore. He was simply a man she had unwittingly fallen for and learned the hard truth of life. She didn’t want to waste time thinking about him when she had such a beautiful family in the present moment.

           “And I thought I lost you for good because of what I’d fucking done.” He sighed quietly. “Just thought it would make things better.”

           “I know.” Louise murmured softly. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

           He shook his head. “Lou, all I’ve ever wanted, right, was for you to be happy.”

           “I am happy.”

           A chill rushed through the drafty building and Alfie tightened his arms around her to keep her warm. “Maybe I don’t know what’s best for you. Everything I’ve done…”

           “Alfie,” She touched a finger to his lips. “What’s really on your mind?” Sometimes it was much better to interrupt his long rambling speeches because they were merely words that covered up his true thoughts.

           He took a deep breath. “I’m scared of leaving you.”

           “You’re not going anywhere, love, you’re right here.” She grazed her knuckles over his beard.

           His throat tightened. “What if I only have a few months left, Louise?” He whispered. “Hardly enough time for Teddy to even remember me fucking face.”

           “I would never let him forget you.” She insisted firmly. “I know we have more time together, I can feel it. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon. And no matter how much time we have left, I’ll be taking care of you, right by your side the entire time.”

           He dipped his head down and touched his cheek to hers. “I’m scared.” His voice was weaker than she’d ever heard it. “Lou, I’m so scared, don’t want to leave you and Ted.”

           “Sh, it’s okay, love.” Louise held him close in the center of the bakery. “Whatever time we have left we’ll make the most of it. I’m just so glad you’re here with me now. You're allowed to be scared, I am too. But in the end, we'll all be okay.”

           Alfie nodded and realized Tommy made the right decision for him. “I’m glad you’re here with me too.” He held his wife. His beautiful wife. The woman who had given him his son. It was one thing to wait for Death to arrive and take him by the hand, it was another to turn his back to the devil and focus on the things he loved in the living world.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​

Tag list: @vehement-care​ @kimmietea​ @eleventhdoctorsangel​ @fire-treasure-iii​

Masterpost

Masterlist

[dontshootmespence]

Savior In A Strange Land

Part 4

Summary: As Spencer and Y/N make their way through Ashela, but they have many obstacles to overcome before they can grow closer.  

Words: 1,232

Warnings: Spencer does a bad thing for the one he loves, references to Y/N’s past abuse.

A/N: Probably just one more part left! At the most it will be two. Enjoy!

@queenanneslace4​​​ @heycasbutt​ @illegalcerebral​​​ @theitcaramelchick​​ @kalie-bee​

Though she knew that they couldn’t stay in Ashela, Y/N asked to stop frequently. She was weakened and needed rest; for reasons unknown, she was moving slower and slower as the days went by. And although he didn’t speak his thoughts aloud, Spencer  sensed her need to take it all in, to say goodbye to the only true home she’d ever known.

As they prepared to depart the nameless town they’d lodged in for the night, Y/N felt herself sick to her stomach, retching near the outhouse for the third time that morning. “I don’t think I’ll be able to walk much today. I might need to rely on Rowena.”

Spencer pressed the back of his hand to her forehead, grimacing at the heat of her skin. “You’re burning up. And pale. Before we leave, we must make a visit to the town physician.”

“I’ll be fine,” she replied. Even as she spoke the words, she wasn’t sure if she believed them. “We need to move before we’re found. I’m sure there are still guards around searching for me.” When she stepped forward, she faltered, falling into Spencer’s arms.

“As soon as we see a physician, we’ll leave,” he assured her.

After asking a local villager to point them in the direction of the town’s doctor, Spencer pulled Y/N close to his side, steadying her exhausted body while he kept vigilant. Since leaving Copros, he’d been somewhat paranoid, searching around every corner and taking in the face of everyone he passed to ensure Y/N’s safety. He had to be alert enough for the both of them. “Here you are,” he said, helping her up the stairs. “You’ll feel better soon. I’m sure of it.”

----

“What is wrong?” Spencer asked, cradling Y/N’s unsteady form in his arms.

The doctor smiled broadly, handing Y/N a tonic for her upset stomach. “I will give you some more of this for your travels, and it should help. But this will continue for quite a while. You’re with child. Congratulations to you both. Will this be your first child?”

Spencer answered shakily, squeezing Y/N’s hand in reassurance. “Yes. This is the first.”

When Y/N met his gaze, she began to cry. “Are you sure? I- I-”

He nodded. And she went numb, completely shutting down as Spencer gathered the necessary medications they would need for their journey. “The news of motherhood can be overwhelming during these uncertain times,” the doctor said to Spencer. “Will she be okay?”

“Yes,” Spencer replied as he cleared his throat. “I’ll make sure of it. It will just take a while to sink in.”

“You will make a wonderful father,” the man said, patting Spencer on the shoulder. “Good luck to you, both.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

With the reality of her situation weighing heavily on his mind, he gathered Y/N to him once again. “Come, love.”

Feigning a smile, she did her best to move forward, though every muscle in her body yearned to collapse into a pile and die. She was carrying the King’s child. “Spencer, you must leave me,” she whispered.

“What?”

“Now that I am carrying the King’s child, you are in even more danger. If anyone here recognizes me, word will spread fast and Samel will send even more guards out to find me.” He didn’t deserve this.

Spencer spun her toward him, lifting her chin so that she could see him. “I will not leave you,” he said earnestly.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw what looked like a castle guard - a lone guard - making his way toward them. Quickly, he dropped the conversation and ushered her away, snaking through the houses and the stands at the local marketplace. Ducking their way around him, Spencer guided her between the inn and one of the homes, but despite his best efforts, the guard found them. “Stay where you are!” The guard said shakily. “I know who you are.”

Swallowing the bile in his throat, Spencer whispered in Y/N’s ear. “Forgive me for what I am about to do.”

He steadied himself and held a hand up, trying to assure the guard of their cooperation. “How may I help you, Sir?”

“That is the Queen,” the guard spat. “And you kidnapped her!”

Y/N channeled every ounce of strength she had into opposing the guard. When she opened her mouth to speak, the guard aimed his gun in her direction and without a thought, Spencer pulled the one weapon he had on his person - a small knife - out of his back pocket and plunged it into the guard’s neck.

“We must leave, Y/N. Now.” As they hastened their pace, she could hear the guard choking on his own blood. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, hands trembling. He’d never killed anyone before. “I’m so sorry.”

----

Spencer helped Y/N into the carriage and readied the horses, ensuring their binds were tight as he hitched them to it. With Y/N so weak, the horses would need to take up the slack today. When he turned to her, to apologize for killing the guard, he found her asleep. Sighing, he prayed that when she woke she wouldn’t see him as some kind of monster. But he wouldn’t disturb her now; she needed rest.

Hours passed before she woke. “Spencer, where are we?” She asked, eyes still heavy with sleep but feeling somewhat better than before, at least physically.

“Just a few miles from the border of Obrana. I’m so sorry,” he said quickly.

“Why?”

“The guard,” he replied, shaking off the memory of the crimson river flowing from the man’s throat.

With what smile she could manage, she rested her hand on his shoulder. “You did what you had to do. I don’t think you a cruel man.”

Relief flooded over him. “I didn’t want to kill him. I took no joy in it.”

“I believe you.” For a moment, she couldn’t think of what to say, cradling her stomach. “Spencer, I have to say again. We should go our separate ways. I would not be offended if you wanted to leave.”

“Why would I?” He looked horrified at the mere thought.

Did he really not care? Did he not understand? “I am carrying the King’s child, Spencer! He took everything from me and now I will forever be reminded of what he did to me! I would not expect you to raise another man’s child.”

“It is also your child,” he said softly. “A child is not its father or its mother. It’s so much more.” Stopping the horses, he put down the reins and cradled her face in his arms. “I love you, Y/N. I have since the moment I saw you in Copros. It would be my honor to help you raise this child. We’ll raise it as ours.”

Her eyes filled with tears at his genuine kindness. “What have I done to deserve you?”

Pulling her in for a kiss, he whispered against her lips. “You were you, my love.”

For the first time since talking to the doctor, she allowed herself to feel, truly feel - the anger, the shame, the fear. As she sobbed into Spencer’s arms, she spoke over and over and over again. “Thank you.” For the first time since leaving her home all those years ago, she wasn’t alone.

[bekahdoesnerdshit]

ask Two for the angst ones this time: 13 for raini, 5 (possibly will be pertinent come the end of this minicampaign) & 29 (she literally has Any Weapon w/ her pact so it's fititng) for ayen, 7 & 10 (hehe I know there's trauma in this one) for cog, and then mix and match 4, 17, 18 between Caspian, Ryker, and Brilliance bc I don't know them as well and I would Like To

My life is just below readmores now, I guess. Will I ever learn to shut the fuck up? No! And that is a promise 

Raini

13. What does it take to make your character cry? Oh boy. Raini definitely isn’t a big crier, because she a) doesn’t really let herself get to that point and b) hard pivots into “angry” over “upset” and she isn’t an angry crier. She’s cried twice in game so far, and probably not many times before that. In both in game cases -and likely the always alluded to but never seen “before times”- the catalyst for her crying was being overwhelmed. In a good way, bad way, whatever, but that’s the trigger. Just- Looking at something, not knowing what else to do but let yourself cry about it, and not seeing any reason to stop yourself.  (shfjsdjkfh the funny answer is: during sex. But can you IMAGINE jskdfskjdf)

Ayen

5. Would they ever turn on someone they just met in order to save themselves? Oh for sure. Without question. Not without guilt, in fairness, but without question. She’s pretty well adjusted, pretty “go with the flow”, but she did grow up in a pretty cutthroat world. She was spared from having to make those kinds of brutal decisions from a super young age by Shadow Mom, but she definitely saw the fallout of those choices and learned that, while it’s all well and good to do the “right” thing, it’s much more important to do the right thing for you. If that means condemning some stranger to die so you and yours don’t have to? So be it. Better people have done worse, because that’s sometimes just how things go.  I’ll be honest! This character decision was a completely on the fly one when we were having that debate in the library about what we should do with the information we learned in the library. But I stand by it. In character, Ayen 1000% sees whatever’s going on as Not Her Business. It’s fucked up, sure! But, you know. Not her monkeys, not her circus.  29. What is their weapon of choice, and what weapon do they dislike using the most? Bro I love that Ayen doesn’t have A Specific Weapon SO much. Especially because Pact of the Blade specifically makes it so that, whatever weapon she summons, she’s proficient in while wielding it. So she sees somebody using a weapon, goes “oh! cool!” and summons it herself, and then just. Intuitively knows how to use is. How fucking funny is that conceptually??  Her go to if things are serious or she doesn’t have time to pick something obscure is a longsword. Dad uses a greatsword, and a longsword is pretty close to that! Image how cool they looked fighting off assholes, back to back, with two bigass swords? Is that the only reason it’s her favorite? No of course not!!!! That would- that would be silly. And childish. Swords are just cool is all.  She hasn’t used any in game, but I think she honestly just doesn’t like any kind of polearm. It’s like, is it technically safer to be a little further from your enemy? Sure. Does it give you a small tactical advantage? Maybe so. But they’re so uglyyyy and they look weird and you have to use both hands and the balance is weird and >:( Spears can stay because you can throw them but you’re on thin fucking ice.

Cog

7. If your character was allowed to murder one person without any consequences, who would it be and why? Thank GOD Alex I wanted this one for Cog SO bad!!! Valentine WastelandGame! If you can read this! You’re a dead motherfucker!! This is for a variety of reasons including but not limited to: - Is responsible for the deaths of at least 3 separate world leaders! Uh oh!  - Asked for my blood one time! To do Science on! Not cool! - Ace doesn’t like him. Enough said.  - Called Ace “hotheaded” and “brutish” keep his NAME out of your MOUTH - Is fucking Maelo’s ex I think? Honestly I lost that plot on that one a little bit - Keeps taking Sunny on dates! We’re protective and Jealous?? Hard to say! We don’t have time to unpack this one let’s keep moving - Is convinced aliens exist? And are coming to attack the world? OKAY  - Talks in fucking circles about philosophy and the greater meaning of “good” and “evil” in the context of the world. Like, no sir! Good is when you help people and evil is when you kill them! Except unless it’s me killing you which is going to happen because I can cast Finger of Death now and you better believe that spell has your fucking name on it. Freak boy. - Just like. Eats straight raw steak. Not Evil but really weird and probably not great for you? - Overall just a very bad slimy manipulative and stinky dude. 0/10 I’m gonna put an arcane bullet in his skull. Like. Everything Valentine does, everything she learns about him, convinces Cog more and more that the world would be a better, safer place if he wasn’t allowed to exist in it anymore. She was kinda neutral on the guy until he gave his grand speech in Cormir about how the only way to save the world is to ‘conquer and subdue it’ and tried to talk her in circles enough that she had to agree with him or seem like a hypocrite. Since then, it’s been a slow creep from “I don’t trust this man and don’t want to work with him again, even if it makes our lives harder” to “he’s dangerous and needs to be stopped” to “...if given the opportunity, I would kill him myself”. And now that she has our new friend the Shadow Demon whispering in her ear, telling her that “the world will tremble and change before her” and that she should “stride boldly, and fear not the consequences that may follow” honestly? The next time we see Valentine, he might be in trouble!  10. What were the character’s parents like? What was the affect the parents had on the character? Oh, is there trauma in this one? Is there? Alex? Is there? Maybe so!! We’re gonna talk about Cog’s dad first, because he’s a) still alive and b) I KNOW you’re fishing for more mom angst. Cog’s dad name is Conrad Grace! He’s the head of Lafaroh’s town guard, whatever that means for a town of maybe a hundred people. I feel like his day to day really consists more of making rounds to check on people than dealing with criminals, although he likely has to break up the occasional disagreement or toss somebody in the drunk tank for the night. He’s also in charge of making sure the Guardians -the gods that live deep in the swamp outside Lafaroh and protect the town in exchange for food, building supplies, the occasional corpse, and other resources- get their offerings (This is Important, because he does Stop doing that soon). He married into he Grace family (that’s RIGHT he took his wife’s last name because it’s 2021 and he’s Woke not because her family like runs the town okay moving on), initially because I genuinely believe he fell in love! They were probably pretty young, because Lafaroh is very much a Deep South Swamp Town Analogue, but I don’t think it was just a social power move. The most important Conrad fact? He told Cog that he became disillusioned with the Church when she left home, because he couldn’t imagine continuing to support something he could now see had so clearly been hurting her. And I, Rebekah, a homosexual who has had Words with my Christian parents about the way their religion has hurt me? OH buddy we were a little bit of a mess about it. DM Ryan! Don’t you know I’m projecting!! Please be more careful! (Editor’s Note: This is the moment that made me realize I was projecting. Whoopso!!) Cog’s mom name is Charlotte Grace Sr. because, I guess, we’re freaks. I hate that this makes Cog technically a junior because the thought of anyone calling her Charlotte Jr. makes me break out in hives, but it is, technically, correct. The distinction while Cog was growing up was, instead, “Charlotte” and “Charlotte Olivia” because, again, we’re southern as hell. Charlotte Sr. is, unsurprisingly, the head of Lafaroh’s church, which means she very much has more actual power than her husband does. She did love Cog, I think, but in a way that very much more felt like someone guarding an investment than raising a child, especially when Cog became a teenager. She had high, exacting expectations, and grew more distant from Cog the older she got. Whether this was an unintentional side-effect of Charlotte Sr. becoming more engrossed in the preparations necessary to allow Cog to become the “Conduit”, or whether it was a purposeful decision because she knew she would lose her daughter and wanted the sacrifice to hurt less is unclear. Cog’s dad is kinda just a dude, but we KNOW this bitch has mommy issues. I also think an important distinction to draw between the two is that while I’m willing to give Conrad the benefit of the doubt and say that he may have just wanted Cog to stay in Lafaroh when they party returned because he was worried about his daughter and wanted her home, Charlotte Sr. wanted Cog there because it was Where She Was Supposed To Be, because she had a destiny to fulfill. More than that, when Charlotte Sr. found out that Conrad had stopped sending supplies to the Guardians when Cog left and had instead been selling them to Bandits to get money to rebuild the town, she was not nearly so understanding. She accused him of heresy, and ordered for him to be, uh. Flayed alive. Which wasn’t great. It’s what got her killed ultimately; Cog had to choose between her parents, and after watching her Mama summon a shadow demon that very nearly choked the life out of Sunny? It was a choice with only one possible outcome. 

Caspian

18. Would society call your character a good guy or a bad guy? What would they say they are? Caspian is. Caspian is Just a person. Like she is just out here doing her best, trying not to get killed by, idk. Pirates or ghosts or w/e. This is an endeavor that, statistically, could be going a lot better.  I think the more interesting angle to look at this question from is the fact that she’s a monk from a well known monastery, and that there’s Expectations on how she conducts herself in the world as a result of that. She is Just A Person, but that’s not good enough. Not when she’s running around wearing Pelor’s holy symbol, representing his monastery, reflecting on him. For a long time, I think Caspian resented the expectation that put on her! Why can’t she just be a kid? Just a person? She didn’t ask to be raised by these monks in this kind of life. But when she left home and realized how suddenly lonely she was, there were quiet, sad moments it was easy to soften with prayer. Rekindling her relationship with her god was her way of staying connected to home, and I think it also made her want to go from being Just a Person to actually wanting to take pride in being a Good Person.  And then her campaign lasted for two fucking seconds lmao so it didn’t even matter hahah! :)

Ryker

4. Has your character ever been hurt or betrayed by someone they thought they could depend on? What happened? YEAH BOY rye-bread got his SHIT handed to him lmaoooo His whole “why are you adventuring?” deal is that he fell in love with the noblewoman he was hired to escort across the country to her betrothed’s estate, and she played him like a fucking fiddle and convinced him -after her wedding, after she was pregnant with her husband’s first child and therefore heir- that she was in love with him too. But of course, because she was married, her husband would never let them be happy together. She talked Ryker into killing her husband, and promised to meet him the night he did it with horses and supplies for both of them. Anyone reading along at home with even a shred of common sense probably just said, “uh oh!” And uh oh indeed; she fully sold his ass out. There’s something emotionally devastating about slipping out of the bedroom of the man you just killed, his blood still on your hands, to find the woman you love standing between two enormous guards, but I can’t quite put my finger on what.  Ryker figured out her plan in the following days he spent in a cell, awaiting execution. She didn’t love her husband, but by playing the role of grieving widow and anxious mother-to-be she could ingratiate herself with his family enough to be allowed to take control of the estate while her son, the true heir, grew up to run it. It was cruel, and clean, and if Ryker hadn’t managed to escape it would have gone off without a hitch.

Brilliance 

17. Is your character afraid of death? Why/why not? Brilliance isn’t afraid of death, she’s afraid for what she’d leave behind. One of the songs on her playlist really leans into this (and I’m very excited to be posting her playlist soon! Stay tuned!), because she is terrified of what her death might do to Sienna. She never planned to become an adventurer, much less travel to the Hells to try and save an entire city. She was content, more than content, to guard Sune’s church, to help the people that came seeking her goddess’ blessing and guidance. When her city faced a sudden influx of refugees from Elturel after its destruction, she was even happy to volunteer to help the Flaming Fist keep order and root out would-be troublemakers. She never meant to get caught up in a job that would take her out of her home city, much less out of her home plane entirely. Every fight she got into in Hell, every time it seemed like she may be staring down something that might kill her, Brilliance had to swallow down the overwhelming guilt of knowing that if she died here Sienna would never know what happened to her. The image of Sienna, worried and pacing, looking toward the door to their apartment every time there was so much as a whisper in the hallway, desperate for any sign that Brilliance had come home-- It wasn’t delusions of self-importance or self-preservation that had Brilliance taking Glasya’s deal to save her from the narzugon’s clutches; it was the image of Sienna collapsing onto their bed and sobbing because she finally admitted to herself that Brilliance was never coming home. Still. Sienna needs her, but her party needs her too. They’re counting on her to be there for them, to take the big hits that they can’t handle. First one in, last one out; she doesn’t leave until everyone else is safe. She wants to survive, she wants to go home and marry the woman she loves, but she couldn’t live with herself if she did it at the cost of the life of someone who was depending on her. Brilliance isn’t afraid of death; she would die for her party members, even the ones she doesn’t particularly like. She just knows exactly what the cost of her death would be.