#Recruiting New Meat|The Walking Dead au

[brooklynislandgirl]

@deputygonebye {part II}

She is a living contradiction; at once fierce and reticent, Beth has always been a shy little thing. An apology lingered on her lips after the first time they'd kissed though in the moment she'd been as passionate as the sun was hot in the high summer sky. In camp she hardly ever strays far from him when it can be avoided, though once they are alone she seems to come to life, an elemental of fire and brightness like the volcanoes that she tells him about. Teases him when she says that they spawned her like they made her islands all those millions of years ago. "An' I'm yours," she answers husky but demure, agreeing with him in the most primal ways. Hold me tighter. Closer. Let me wear your love on my t'roat. My t'ighs. Your teeth an' ya lips. I wan' all of dat. Set me down on da counter. Carry me upstairs. Doesn't mattah to me, so long as you go' and devour me, Shane. Let's be da only two people in da world, let me be loud as we like." She's asking for things they can't really indulge in back at camp, where sound carries. Where even a breath can bring ruination.

"Let me taste ya. All of ya."

[brooklynislandgirl]

It only takes precious fractions of a second for Beth to lose herself in his gaze. One that she wraps around her when the nights turn unseasonably cold, when the darkness around them is too deep to be comfortable. Bottomless as the sea but life's breath for her. It takes less time for her to notice that he's the one adrift on an intangible memory. Nights when he shakes in the circle of her arms, a chorus of little noises she can't even call proper whimpers or cries, the manic wakefulness where nostrils flare as he drags in gulps of air into his lungs and the sweat that soaks him to the bone? They spin a story that never properly trips over his tongue. She does everything in her power to hold him through it even when he cannot stand to be touched ~she never takes this as a personal affront, never saw it as an indictment of his character as a protector or provider~ and now is a moment where he might need a modicum of space to take a breath and fill his lungs, to help himself shake off his trenchant gloom. Just when she's about to shift closer to him if only to offer him the shadow of herself to see if she could pull him back to the surface ~the now~ he manages to drag himself upward from the one place she can't follow him. He takes hold of her and her fingers lay gently against the back of his hand. Woven through his own and she can't help but notice how fragile they look in comparison. Shane's hands are work-worn. He has no idea just how centring that feeling his, how those hands of his hold up her entire world, hold back all the things that threaten to paralyse her if it weren't for his steadying presence. Beth is stone, buffeted by wind, carved by the often steady fall of rain but never diminished. Unshakeable at her foundations. She is stone for Shane at her spine but that doesn't mean that she doesn't ache for him when he finally starts putting words to all the invisible wounds he carries within. And not just for the people he'd come to think of as family but those he'd never even met. It was an act of mercy what happened with the barn, with the... her mind glitches over the word to describe those things. Everyone seems to have a preferred word to describe the horrors that are now a part of life. Walkers is easier, she supposes, though she doesn't like any of the terms. "I know, I know..." a repeating sentence unfinished, a murmured agreement to what he's saying. A warmth spreading through her when he softly calls her baby. "You're not wrong. I get that~" she enunciates her words so carefully as finding her island inflection that she's tried so hard to retain seems out of place just now "~ that in his own way he was trying to protect his own family. I can't say you're a bad guy at all, sweetheart. He did lie to us. By omission maybe but that still put us all in danger. And so you did the right thing even if it hurt some to witness it. You're absolutely right. I think I know that better than most and you gotta know that every day I thank heaven when I don't see my brother's face on their side. You give me the strength to hope he's still out there, fighting his way towards us." That confession might not be taken the way she means it. Might even be discounted as her trying to make him feel better but it's a truth she's been carrying with her since the day they'd met. She would never have survived on her own and all belief she might have had would have dwindled to nothing if he didn't keep her focused on those things they could do for not just each other but for the group. She can't take on the anguish he feels so she does the next best thing and presses into him, offering as much comfort as she can. "Well, blessedly, you've seen to that, and Andrea can mind her own business. You have me still, you have all of us. If no one else sees it, I do and I am grateful that you have the courage to keep putting everyone before yourself."

She takes the kisses he offers as small promises. That he'll continue to be the man he is. That he will make sure he's careful so that he comes back to them, but especially back to her. That come this hell and this high water, they'll keep going, even if they have to do it on their own.

His tone changes subtle and slow. She isn't so stupid as to think it comes from any little pep-talk on her part, nor does she see it as a shift from depression to mania ~a thing she's fought against since she was a girl~ because it comes too quickly. No, this is all Shane's determination and she's going to support it with all of her being.

"Over," she repeats with a small nod. One that brushes her cheek softly against his shoulder. She believes every word he offers her and only slightly flinches when he adamantly proclaims himself.

And yes, she remembers. It might have been almost funny if it had been any two other people in the world. The colour had drained from her face, her eyes so wide they had almost become cartoonish and Shane had been so worried that she'd hurt herself or some dire calamity had befallen her. It was true that her heart pounded in her chest fit to burst. That she couldn't hear the woods for the blood rushing in her ears.

Her hands stained by the juice of the blackberries they were picking covering his lips as if she could put the words back into his mouth. How confused he looked or maybe even hurt, castigated like a child for speaking out of turn. But then he licked at her which got her to drop away and he reached out. Cupped her cheeks and made her look as he said them again. Slower. Deadly serious.

She'd told him then that…that everyone who'd ever said those words to her ~the few times she'd heard them~ that those people eventually ended up leaving her. That those words to her were nothing but a death knell. And he'd told her boldly that he wasn't those people. That those words didn't usually come easy for him. Not until then, not until her. That was the first time, too, that she learned what he tasted like. How he enjoyed being kissed. And maybe unsurprisingly, she learned how she liked to be kissed, too.

Beth couldn't help but believe he meant that. Just as she believes him now. She tucks her head down until it rests against the steady drum of his heartbeat. Louder perhaps and more tranquil than the lingering rain on their canvas roof. She can barely remember the last time she'd ever said the words herself. Was it to Andy? It…it had to have been; there'd never been a wish good-night, a phone call, a letter between the siblings that ended without those three words. Or maybe it had been to her best friend, Jay, whom she chose to believe escaped New York, the woman who was like a sister to her. Family that she tries not to think about because admitting they may not have survived the initial outbreak or the current horror would be too much to bear.

She doesn't say the words lightly, as she doesn't really say them at all. Shane has been a godsend in that he doesn't really expect her to say them at all. Has never pushed her to, has never begged when it's easier for her to show him. Maybe that's exactly why she chooses to do so now.

"And I love you, Shane Walsh. Yesterday. Today. Tomorrow. And every day we have after. Maybe even more than that. I love you and I believe in you. Because you're my everything, too. So I guess you're just stuck with me, then."

Akin to an animal cornered, nowhere else to escape, the memories of the barn returned to Shane. Wooden planks torn down from the old doors, the undead shot between the eyes without remorse, three rounds into the chest. Blood as brown as mud splattered across Hershel's shirt, pale blue sleeves with sage and silver suspenders. Gore that seeped deep into the land that had been tended to for generations; something inside of Shane had snapped once the Walkers were made known. A horde nestled safely inside the four gray walls - sated on the meat of broken-necked chickens - like the cattle that used to live there. Surrounded by piles of golden hay, the banner of protection that Hershel and Otis offered. Sheltered from reality and veiled from the truth; ignorance married in an effort to heal the sick.

Delusion that would be fractured, timbered panels snatched, shattered locks and crushed chains under boots. Patience had worn thin. Been completely destroyed by the time that the Walkers limped their way toward the barn from the vast thicket, green leaves fallen all around their feet, hooked around the throat by wire and kept at a distance by long handle. Domestic pets rather than the same monsters that had attacked their friends, what had killed poor Amy and kindhearted Jim. Creatures that could be saved; preached but never heard. It was the most foolish endeavor. Nothing more than mere insanity, the ramblings of a crazed man, a veterinarian that had lost his beloved wife and son. Was too entangled with the euphoria of his own nescience, blinded the eyes of others for his own sake, it was the final straw that Shane could bear.

Already cracked from the search for Sophia, the little girl was lost. Wandered into the trees with the sunlight on her shoulder, carrying her teddy bear and desperate to find her mother. But days had passed since her face was more than a memory. More than small hours, more than just tears and the shed of someone else's blood. Daryl almost died as he continued with his search. Climbed hillsides, floated on cold waters, was poked and prodded by thorn and stick alike. Battled the demons that went unspoken; as cruel as it sounded, as harsh as the words came forth from his lips, Shane couldn't stay quiet. Sophia was gone; there was no reason to risk their lives, the group's lives, anymore. More than just one child - so many days spent on the farm and yet no place to call home - there were others to consider.

Descended onto his hunches, the curve of his calves and inner leg, Shane sat himself straight. Moved himself to be more like Beth in posture, a mirror that reflected imperfectly. Brown eyes cast onto her but their attention locked someplace else, a place so far that it felt almost dreamlike. A school with endless Geeks behind; cold skin and cloudy glance that appeared to be Sophia, colorless and void. Carol's screams ever clear in his ears - battling with the soft thump of rain overhead - the blast from Rick's pistol, the shot heard around the whole farm. A hand run across his head, the back of his scalp rubbed in nervous habit, Shane didn't feel bad for what he had done. Sorrowful for the pain he indirectly caused Carol, that was certain. Heartbroken for what had happened to Sophia, beyond what the others would understand. But there was no guilt. No sense of regret, a course of action that would haunt him until the end.

Shane had a family he needed to protect. A lover who depended upon him, an unborn child, a brother and kin that was not bound by blood but something more. Their lives would not be lost because Hershel had allowed himself to go beyond the edge of fantasy, pointless hope. He would've done it all again.

"Yeah." Shane replied, as if he were a man coming out of a fog, distracted by anything else than Beth's kiss, the shape of her body against his own.

Reaching across the way, Shane grabbed her hand lightly, captured her fingers between his own and laced them together.

"I'm doin' alright with it, baby. It's just... hard, bein' seen as the bad guy and all. Andrea says I could've 'executed it differently,' and maybe I could've, but I don't think Hershel would've understood. That guy, that stubborn son-of-a-bitch, he don't see things the way that we've seen them. The way we've been forced to live them. He ain't been out in the woods like us. He ain't been fightin' everyday like our group has, like you and I have. We lost Amy. We lost Jim. Hershel... Otis... they thought keepin' Geeks up in a barn was gonna save them. That it could somehow bring these people back... You can't bring back the dead, Beth. You just can't."

Shane sighed, a cracked and wounded sound. "I didn't mean to hurt anybody. I would never try to hurt Carol or Rick or Glenn. Nobody! But... I got a family to look after. I got people who depend on me. I need to protect what's mine. If one of the Walkers broke down those barn doors... if they hurt anybody in our group... if they got to you and hurt you... Beth, darlin', I don't know what I'd do."

Her knuckles brought to his lips in order to press kisses upon them, Shane gathered his excitement, the emotion that dared to spill. But he didn't release the hold he had over Beth, both hands encased over and around hers.

"It's over now." Shane said, the chapter of his own book closed, put on the stand to gather dust and wilt away. A statement more for himself rather than anyone else. "Carol, she'll see that this... it needed to happen. Our group's safe. Our loved ones are safe. We're lucky, and we're gonna be okay. I'd do whatever it'd take to keep the group safe, to keep you safe, Beth. I'd do anythin'... I love you! I love you so much. You remember that, alright? You remember that every second while we're apart today, every second of every day hereafter. I meant it when I said it the first time, baby, and I mean it now. I love you. I'd be nothin' without you... and... I am sorry, if anythin' I've ever done made you second guess that or think otherwise. You're everythin' to me. Absolutely everythin'."

[yatorihell]

In The Darkness Chapter 53 - The Patronus Charm

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 4,406

Summary: Yato begins teaching the Patronus Charm with surprising results.

Thank you @kiun​​ for beta-ing me

Also available on Yatorihell AO3

Yato’s last class on a Thursday afternoon was Care of Magical Creatures with the sixth year students.

The class trailed behind Kuraha to their next creature hidden within the forest, with Bishamon walking ahead of Yato. This was the only class that the two of them shared alone as Kazuma hadn’t chosen Creatures as an elective, but it seemed Yato and Bishamon had a small friendship growing from their Defence training.

Kuraha picked up a bucket from outside his little groundskeeper hut as he passed. He didn’t stop as they neared the paddocks which was filled with Jackalopes, which were basically horned rabbits.

He led them further into the forest where it became more shadowy and into a small, empty clearing. Dead leaves littered the ground and every shade of darkening auburn hung over their heads as the autumnal leaves continued to fall.

Here, they were introduced to something Yato had never seen before.

Yato watched the creatures move, their hooves scuffing up the bracken and fallen leaves. At a glance they seemed to be a type of winged horse, like a Pegasus, but further inspection revealed something far more sinister.

Its skeletal body was covered by a smooth but thin black coat which defined every bone as they walked around the glade. Two leathery wings sprouted from each wither on their backs and folded at their sides, extending every now and then as they flexed. They easily had the same wingspan of a Hippogriff but lacked feathers and flesh under their impressive structure.

The face was the most unusual as they did not have an equine resemblance. Their faces were leathery and worn like their wings, dragon-like with a hooked beak at the end of its long snout. Milky-white pupil-less eyes directed their attention to Yato, and Yato understood why anyone would be afraid if they saw this creature.

“These are Thestrals,” Kuraha said. He dumped the bucket on the ground and a wet sloshing filled the air.

The class looked at him, confused.

“They are social creatures which is why there is a herd – not that you can see them,” Kuraha said gruffly. “Only those who have seen death are able to see them.”

The class shifted, eyeing each other to work out who was able to see them. Not many people had experience with death nor seen it first-hand, but in Yato’s case, he could see them clear as day.

Unbeknownst to Yato, Bishamon could see them too.

Whilst the rest of the class couldn’t see these creatures that lurked before them, Kuraha could easily demonstrate their existence.

He reached into the bucket and pulled out huge slabs of dripping meat and threw them into the air before the class. Invisible forces snapped up the heavy steaks instantly and bird-like screeches sounded from nowhere as the steaks were torn apart before their eyes.

“Those shrieks you’re hearing are the Thestrals communicating with each other.” Kuraha picked up some more slabs and threw them into the frenzy. “Thestrals can also be trained to understand a rider when asked to travel somewhere specifically.”

Kuraha wiped his bloody hands on his slacks and looked at the class. His eyepatch covered one of his grey eyes which observed the confused but understanding faces of his students.

“They can understand you, and whether or not you’re a friend, so watch what you do around them. If they see you as a threat, they will attack.”

For a moment Kuraha’s good eye raked over the students, searching for those who could perceive the Thestrals. His gaze fell on two students at the far side of the group, their eyes clearly following a baby Thestral as it approached them.

Whilst Thestrals were eerily beautiful, they could not be appreciated by those who could not see them. Kuraha gestured for the students to follow him down a worn path which led to the outskirts of the forest where the paddocks were located, each class a new creature waiting for them.

Yato watched the Thestrals for a moment longer as the class began shuffling through the thick blanket of leaves that carpeted the forest floor. Yato turned to leave as the footsteps faded, but his eye caught on two things. The bucket of meat that Kuraha had left behind, and, first and foremost, Bishamon.

Yato paused. It wasn’t like her to wait up for him.

Yato placed his hands in his robe pockets and mooched his way over to Bishamon, feet kicking up rotting leaves and small twigs. However, Bishamon didn’t acknowledge him when he stopped beside her, her gaze fixated on something ahead.

The penny dropped as Yato turned his head; a Thestral was looking straight at him and Bishamon.

“You can see them too?” Yato asked. He sounded incredulous, which may have been rude given the circumstances one had to have been through to see a Thestral.

Bishamon nodded and the eye contact between her and the Thestral was broken. It turned away from the pair, wings flexing as it headed towards the far end of the clearing.

They watched the creatures in silence, observing the herd as they sniffed the ground for remnants of food and let out gentle shrieks.

Yato thought to himself about the tragic nature of a Thestral. Invisible to those who hadn’t seen death, their presence was a harsh reminder of lost loved ones and painful memories. It was a shame that someone had to see death to see these hauntingly beautiful creatures, and it was all the more tragic when someone their age could see them.

“Who did you see?” Yato hated himself the second he said it; what an insensitive question.

Surprisingly, Bishamon didn’t seem to mind answering. “My grandfather.”

They fell into silence once again. Bishamon didn’t need to ask Yato the same question; his person was Suzuha.

Yato wracked his brain for a less sensitive topic, but the only one that came to mind was what she had done in their last Defence training class. He’d yet to ask Kazuma about it, but if Bishamon was friends with him now, then it wouldn’t hurt to ask.

“So… you and Kazuma?” Yato said slowly, testing the waters.

Bishamon smiled, eyes following a baby Thestral as it stumbled around and snapped at falling leaves. “We started dating in the summer. Our families have married a few times, to keep the bloodlines pure.”

Yato realised that she was talking about the Sacred Twenty-Eight. These were ancient families that were supposedly still ‘true pure-bloods’, and Bishamon was descended from one of them. However, it could be debated that there were no longer any pure blood families; some members would eventually marry half-bloods, Muggleborns and even Muggles as the generations passed.

Yato wondered if the idea of marriage had been considered by Bishamon’s and Kazuma’s families now that they were dating.

“Do you think your parents will want you to marry?” Yato asked. “Not Kazuma, per say, but into one of the twenty-eight families?”

“My parents died when I was a child.”

Bishamon’s short answer shocked Yato. He’d known her for six years and – whilst they fought for most of them – he never knew she had no parents.

They stood in silence, the hooves of the magical creatures surrounding them rustled the leaves as they wandered around the barren glade. The baby Thestral had become disinterested in catching leaves and looked around, eyes falling on Yato and Bishamon. It trotted over to them, flapping its wings and causing an updraft of burnt orange leaves to flutter at their feet. It eyed the pail of food at Bishamon’s side and snapped its beak with a small screech.

“Can I ask how they…?” Yato asked gently. He trailed off at the end to indicate that she didn’t have to answer such a personal question.

Bishamon remained quiet and reached into the bucket. She pulled out a slab of meat that dripped some blood onto the bracken and threw it towards the baby Thestral. It reared slightly on its hind legs and caught it, tearing it apart with its razor-sharp beak and swallowing large chunks whole.

After a second of watching the Thestral, Bishamon answered. “They died in the First Wizarding War, fighting for the Ministry with Professor Tenjin.”

Yato stared at her as she threw another piece of meat to a larger Thestral who had caught wind of the free food.

‘With Professor Tenjin…’ Her parents must have been in the Order of the Phoenix. Yato kept his mouth shut and looked away, hoping Bishamon would reveal more, but she didn’t.

“I was raised by what was left of my family afterwards, but mostly it was just me and the house staff who stayed around to look after me when my grandfather died,” Bishamon continued. “As an only child, it's my job to continue my parent’s legacy.”

It sounded wrong for Bishamon, only sixteen years old, to think that her job was to continue an outdated tradition in the name of family legacy, but Yato said nothing. It was her choice and hers alone if she wanted to honour her family tradition, and she didn’t need to be told that.

But finding out her parents were in the Order of the Phoenix just like Sakura’s, that was news to him.

Yato wondered how many more of the Sacred Twenty-Eight had joined Professor Tenjin’s Order of the Phoenix, and whether or not Sakura had reached out to them. Bishamon seemed clueless about its existence, but if she knew that her parents joined the Order – and who they truly fought for – then maybe she would continue that legacy fighting the Sorcerer. He would have to ask Sakura, but since she had recruited Yukine and Hiyori as his friends, Yato would ask her to do the same for Kazuma and Bishamon.

Bishamon interrupted Yato’s train of thought in a gentle voice. “I believe you. About the Sorcerer.”

Yato looked at Bishamon, and she gave him a small, genuine smile. She had never done that before. “If you need anything, you can always ask.”

Yato nodded his head duly, not knowing what to say aside from ‘Thanks’.

Bishamon’s hair fluttered in the slight breeze as she stepped forward, carefully petting the baby Thestral which protested her departure loudly.

Yato scooped up the empty pail, throwing a glance at Bishamon with a light smile. Today, he’d seen a side to her that he hadn’t seen before, and their rivalry had ended.

After all, a friend was better than a foe.

~

Sakura was right when she said they were on their own.

On Monday morning, a framed sign appeared on the stone wall beside the Great Hall which caught the attention of all students who had come down for breakfast. A crowd had gathered quickly, all staring at the sign, which perplexed those who were too far away to see anything aside from the grey stones. Yukine was one of those students.

Yukine cursed under his breath and pushed his way through the crowd, bashing younger and smaller students unapologetically as they refused to budge. Hiyori and Yato were at the forefront of the crowd, faces stony.

“What’s going on?” Yukine asked. He looked at Yato for an answer, but Yato wore a scowl as his eyes scanned the sign for the hundredth time.

 Yukine turned his attention to the framed parchment and read the cursive font.

Proclamation: Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four

All Student Organisations are henceforth disbanded

Any student in noncompliance will be expelled

Yukine leant forward and squinted at the smaller text underneath, which was half covered by Professor Oshi’s signature and a seal from the Ministry of Magic.

“’Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Oshi)’,” Yukine read under her breath. “’No Student Organisation may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor, punishable by expulsion.’”

Shit.

Yukine looked at Yato and Hiyori, lost for words. Professor Oshi banned all clubs for no reason… or did she have a reason?

Hiyori caught Yukine’s eye and nudged her head to the side. Yukine took the hint and began making his way out of the crowd; they needed to go somewhere private to talk. Hiyori tugged on the sleeve of Yato’s robe, towing him out of the crowd behind Yukine. They made their way down the corridor and the crowd behind them started dispersing into the Great Hall, eager for breakfast, as the trio followed Yukine into an empty classroom.

As soon as the door shut behind them, they let out frustrated sighs.

“How did she find out?” Yukine hissed.

“Someone must’ve seen us,” Yato ran a hand through his hair. He was beyond irritated. They had been so careful…

“She might not know…” As soon as she said it, Hiyori knew it was a stupid idea. Why else would Professor Oshi disband all student groups?

“She can’t do this, can she?” Yukine asked. He looked at Yato for an answer, who paced the room annoyedly. After a moment he came to a stop, and the room quietened.

“Oshi is only a teacher because the Minister passed an Educational Decree to appoint her for a vacant teaching post that the Headmaster couldn’t fill,” Yato said.

They knew the vacant position was Defence Against the Dark Arts, and whilst it was true they had a bad streak of teachers, it was obvious that the Ministry had placed Oshi in Hogwarts to spy on Professor Tenjin.

“Why isn’t Professor Tenjin stopping her?” Hiyori asked. “He is the Headmaster.”

Yato shook his head. “Tenjin probably can’t defy her if the Minister thinks he’s going to overthrow him. That will just prove it.”

“We aren’t going to stop,” Yukine announced. He turned to Yato, green eyes flashing with burning passion and anger. “You said so yourself that you would train us when the Ministry banned practical magic.”

Yato nodded, felling Hiyori’s eyes on him expectantly. “I did.”

“Then train us!” Yukine exclaimed.

Deep down, Yukine knew that Yato, Hiyori, nor any of the other students would let something like a disband stop them, not when so much was at stake. The scars – mental and physical – gave him cause to continue to fight, and he wouldn’t stop until justice was done.

“We are Hogwarts’ Order of the Phoenix,” Yukine declared. “We will protect ourselves.”

~

October slipped by and November brought snowfall to the castle. The Quidditch teams had been allowed to reform after Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four was enforced, but Yato, Hiyori and Yukine were thankful that they didn’t have to play through the cold season.

Wintery snow drifts began to pile in the windowsills and hallway arches, refusing to melt in the cold sunshine air. The dusting of snow led to most students wrapping themselves up in their house scarves, woollen hats jammed on their head and fingers stiff with cold as they tried to put on gloves.

The warmth of the castle kept the students warm in their classrooms, but the Room of Requirement struggled to keep out the cold as the tower was surrounded by nothing but sky. Yato and Yukine decided to steal some logs from the woodpile outside Kuraha’s hut and bring them up to the classroom before their training session, igniting the fireplace for the first time that year. 

Hiyori shivered as the first wave of warmth hit her as she entered the Room of Requirement. The snow had melted on her clothing as she made her way upstairs, leaving her damp and frozen, but the sound of a crackling fire was welcomed.

Hiyori pulled off her hat and scarf as she crossed the room to the fireplace, meandering her way through the few students who had arrived before her.

Yato and Yukine stood before the hearth warming their hands, a few more logs piled next to the firepit waiting to be added. Yato noticed Hiyori approaching and offered a greeting, moving to the side so Hiyori could get in next to the fire.

They had hung their sopping wet hats, scarves, gloves and robes next to the fireplace on some hooks that she hadn’t noticed, and Hiyori followed suit. Shrugging off her robe, Hiyori tutted when she saw the wet patches that had leaked through onto her jumper. Hopefully, the fire would dry them off before dinner.

Hiyori held her hands out to the fire and shivered again. “I wish they would move Herbology out of the greenhouses in the winter.”

Yukine smirked; Hufflepuffs didn’t have Herbology with Gryffindors since the greenhouses were too small. “Steal some of the gardening gloves, they’ll keep your hands warm and dry.”

“I’m not going to steal, Yukine,” Hiyori scolded.

Yukine shrugged. “Your loss.”

They stood around the fireplace, allowing other waterlogged students to huddle around the fire and warm up a bit before they started class. Defence training was going well, and they had begun to breach new topics. One that Yato was adamant to teach before the Christmas break was the Patronus Charm.

By the time the last students had trickled in, class was beginning. They took their places around the class spread out from the others, wands in hand.

Yato stood at the head of the room in front of the fireplace, arms behind his back. The flames backlit his figure and shadows of snowfall beyond the lattice windows filtered across his face. In that moment Hiyori could see that his confidence and command of the room had grown.

When Yato stood before them, they knew class was in session.

“A Patronus acts like a shield against a Dementor, using a positive force that the Dementor can feed on instead of its caster,” Yato echoed the words Professor Daikoku had told him about the Patronus charm. “To cast this charm, you need a happy, powerful memory.”

Yato looked around the class, finding Hiyori and Yukine within the crowd a short distance away from Kazuma and Bishamon.

“Close your eyes.”

The class closed their eyes.

“Find a happy memory.”

The crackle of flames licking at splintering logs in the fireplace seemed deafening. Not a whisper nor breath could be heard as they searched their memories for their happiest moments.

For Bishamon, her happiest memory was her first Quidditch Cup victory, whereas Kazuma’s was his first date with Bishamon to the Quidditch World Cup. Yukine’s was his first kiss with Suzuha in the greenhouses, and for Hiyori, it was the entirety of the Yule Ball.

“Now speak the incantation, ‘Expecto Patronum’.”

“Expecto Patronum,” the class echoed.

“Focus on the memory, open your eyes, and cast the spell.”

In near unison the class uttered the spell, wands raised. Some wands glowed with a hint of white light at the tip, others did not. The voices became disjointed as the class uttered the spell over and over, more forcefully as they willed their Patronus into existence.

Yato began pacing around the room, examining the way wands were held silently. He couldn’t really do anything to help aside from telling them to find a happier memory, as Daikoku had told Yato.

However, it wasn’t long before someone conjured it.

The first Patronus to emerge was a blur of a tail as it ran overhead. Excited gasps rang out as a few students stopped and turned, their own wand tips dying out as their attention was diverted.

Yato caught a glimpse of a Golden Retriever leaving a trail of whispery silvery-blue as it raced across the air, bounding in manic circles across the length of the room. It surged downwards and wove between the forest of legs, tongue lolling, before it hurled itself straight at Kazuma.

Kazuma grunted at the force of a would-be 30-kilogram dog slamming into his chest, wand and glasses clattering to the ground and knocking him off his feet. Concentration gone and disarmed, the excitable Patronus faded in an instant to the applause of Kazuma’s fellow trainees.

Bishamon picked up Kazuma’s glasses which – miraculously – had survived the fall, and handed them back to him on the ground. Kazuma wheezed a ‘thank you’ and picked himself up, Ravenclaw tie askew.

With that, the class redoubled their efforts.

Within minutes, whispery trails had poured from wands and formed into half-formed Patronus’ or even fully formed ones. Kazuma rendered his own once again, attempting to control the rambunctiousness and avoiding getting knocked over again.

Yato watched as something slithered out of a Ravenclaws’ wand and writhed in the air, shaking itself violently as if to fend off a predator. If Yato didn’t know any better, he’d say it was a worm.

What a tragically funny Patronus.

Bishamon conjured her Patronus next, and to everyone’s astonishment, it matched the crest of Gryffindor. If he thought about it, it wasn’t much surprise that Bishamon had a lion; she was a true Gryffindor after all.

The lion roared and shook its mane, sending sparkles shimmering down on Bishamon as she grinned up at the majestic beast that paced above her head.

Kazuma’s mouth was agape as the lion paced towards his seemingly much smaller Patronus dog, worried it may tear the poor pooch apart. However, the golden retriever didn’t seem to understand that he may have been in danger. It wiggled playfully in a bow at the lion, pawing the air every now and then as it jumped around in circles in front of the unimpressed big cat.

After a moment, the lion swiped a big paw at the dog, the way in which a cat might bat at a pest. Bishamon laughed, and Kazuma smiled when he saw their Patronuses interacting. Golden retrievers were loyal, and he liked to think that said something about his character.

The class tripled its effort at seeing another Patronus – and a lion at that – appear before them playing with the Golden Retriever.

However, Hiyori couldn’t seem to get past a bright white light on the tip of her wand as she focused hard on her memory. Yato wandered over to her and cast a glance at Yukine who also seemed to be struggling.

Hiyori didn’t seem to notice Yato, too intent on conjuring her Patronus that she didn’t see him watching her closely. Even though he couldn’t help her memory, he could encourage her.

Yato came up behind Hiyori and gently covered her hand with his own, guiding the wand upwards.

Hiyori barely flinched, although she would admit her concentration wavered at the feeling of Yato’s warm skin on hers. She could sense his face next to hers, eyes on the space ahead where she willed her Patronus to appear.

“Concentrate,” Yato said softly.

Hiyori’s Patronus burst forth as soon as Yato uttered the word in her ear, electrifying her senses and giving a surge of energy to her spell. It appeared similar to Kazuma’s at first, dog-like and shaggy, until it tipped its head back and let out a long howl.

A wolf, Yato said to himself.

He smiled and looked at Hiyori, but she was focused on her Patronus with a small, shy smile. She may have been blushing, but then again, her cheeks may be rosy from the heat of the room.

Yato turned to help Yukine, but it seemed he had managed to make his memory strong enough to reveal his Patronus.

His wand trailed thin smoke-like wisps that created a small cloud above his head. Yukine watched excitedly as it formed, hoping it would be something as strong as a wolf or a lion.

Two ears sprung up and its head popped up, alert and curious. Its stout, chubby body reared on its strong hindlegs, paws on its tummy and nose twitching as it looked around.

It was… a rabbit.

“Are you serious?! Hiyori gets a wolf and I’m a fucking bunny?!” Yukine raged. He wanted something fierce, not the Easter Bunny.

“Well, you do kinda remind us of an angry bunny, Puff,” Yato chided, using an old nickname he had given Yukine when they’d first met.

Yukine flipped him off with his free hand in response, looking at his cute Patronus forlornly. Hiyori couldn’t hide her smile when Yukine pouted angrily.

The class continued, with most students being able to form some sort of shield or even a bodily Patronus form. Yato instructed those who couldn’t to find more memories they could try in the next session, reassuring them that he had tried a few memories before he had been able to use the spell.

The class picked up their bags and clothing as they filtered out of the Room of Requirement slowly. Yukine kept watch as students filtered out in small groups to ensure that no one was watching, the fear of expulsion a genuine concern for some of the younger years if they were caught in a secret society.

Hiyori wrapped her scarf around her neck and threw her warm robe over her arm, stuffing her gloves into the pockets. A smattering of students remained in the room, waiting their turn to leave.

Yato was talking quietly to Bishamon and Kazuma were in the centre of the room. After a moment, Yato collected his things from the fireplace and joined Hiyori by the door as the final group of students slipped out and down the hallway.

“Ready?” Hiyori asked.

Yato hummed in agreement and Hiyori slipped out of the door. Yato caught the door and looked behind to call out to Kazuma and Bishamon to hurry up, but he closed his mouth quickly and slipped out of the door.

Yato let the door close softly so as to not disturb them. Yato turned, trying to get the image of what he had just seen out of his head and faced Hiyori and Yukine, who had come back from his watch-post.

Hiyori was filtering through her satchel and robes, hair curtaining her face as she searched for something.

“What’s wrong?” Yukine asked.

“I left my hat on the fireplace,” Hiyori answered.

She stepped around Yato and placed a hand on the door handle. Yato caught her arm before she could open the door.

“I wouldn’t go back in there if I were you,” Yato advised.

Hiyori paused, hand still on the door handle and looked at Yato quizzically. “Why?”

Yato smirked.

Hiyori didn’t see, but when Yato had turned to call Kazuma and Bishamon, he’d noticed a sprig of mistletoe emerging from the cracks in the ceiling and dangle above the couple.

“Because Kazuma and Bishamon are making out.”

[elejahfanfic]

The Vampire Files/8

Fanfiction

Part 8

AU story, with characters from tvd/to, featuring Joel Goran from Saving Hope

Nick and Elena are FBI Agents investigating supernatural activities and homocide caused vampires and demons.

Expect witches, demons, vampires. Inspired by X-files, Twin Peaks, and many other shows

Main pairing_Nick Amaro & Elena Gilbert

tag_ @miguelsbrat​

thanks so much for reading ✽\(ˆ▽ˆ)-✽ ✽-(ˆ▽ˆ)/✽

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The New Orleans dawn was breaking. The remains of the night were slowly being washed away by the  first rays of the sun. Elena was gazing out of the hospital windows into the horizon blank waiting for the results of Nick's check up. The attending came up to her informing her that Nick will be left for observation as he had lost significant amount of blood, and being an FBI agent they didn't want to risk anything by releasing him, even though his blood work showed that he wasn't in any risk at all. As the nurses left, Elena walked in the room they transferred him to.They wereboth silent.There was so much explaining to follow, but at the moment they just felt it wasn't the time or the place.

"I owe you my life" Nick said, swallowing hard.

"No, you don't. This is what partners are for. You saved mine, remember?"

"It's not the same."

"We are not keeping score. You got to rest. I will head back to the hotel, get a shower and change. I think they will let you out later today. I need to go meet Stavros. And interview the voodoo woman. I will swing by the magic shop later."

"Ok" Nick said closing his eyes. He was tired.The magic of the ointment Elena applied had worn off and now he felt the aftermath of the horrific ordeal he went through.

She looked at him warmly, making a small mental sigh. She enclosed him in her heart that night they played Monopoly. He shed his Agent demeanour off, and shown her a person he really was deep down. Kind, warmhearted, sweet.

Flashback

"I want justice for the victims. This is what drives me. Cold cases were the most challenging. I love challenges."

"Well, you are in the most challenging section of the FBI now." Elena said.

"And think that you are in it for the same reason. You care about the people. At least that's what I could say about your reports."

"Yeah. But I don't always manage to get it. You read that, too. There’s too many dead ends”

“I know. But you are not giving up - and I admire what you have accomplished. I do.” Nick said with a meaningful glimmer in his eyes.

Elena now took hold of his hand and squeezed it.

Nick fluttered his eyes open.They softly connected with Elena’s, making her shudder slightly. It had happened the first time they met, and they knew that there was this something deeply rooted.They both had felt it. Their souls connected before they were even aware of it.

“I got to go” Elena pulled her hand away. “See you later.”

Nick nodded, watching her get out of the room, his heart quivering dreamily. A secret smile curved his lips.

Outside, Elena pulled her phone out and dialed Jenna's number.      

"Morning you," Jenna said as she picked up the call,"how are things? Is he going to be all right?"

"Yes," Elena replied,"I need you to send me all about the Bloodborns"

"So, you haven't talked?!" "He is still processing. I would be after the night he had. Sorry to wake you" Elena said apollogetically.

"You think I have slept?!"

"Hope Alaric has" Elena said. "Yeah, he has a full day at the University. So, you think this will complicate things?" “Things are complicated, but they actually are getting clearer”

"Elaborate" Jenna said, not understanding her niece’s logic.

"I can't. You would be involved an it is not goo at this point of investigation"

"Right. Be careful. My gut feeling tells me this is way bigger than just some random ritual killing" Jenna sighed.

"Yeah -got to go." Elena said and hung up.

At times Elena felt like she was reliving the twisted version of the 'Groundhog Day' movie. But here, no matter how hard she tried to get it put things right, things would always get even more tangled up.  

Flashback

Years back, when she was about to enter the FBI Training Academy

"You know why they are recruiting you?" Jenna said.

"I know. It's not because I am so good at biochemistry" Elena replied.

"Straight to the special program?," Jenna continued, "I am not sure about this"

"I am going there, because of the resources. Because- the darkness is taking over and I have to do everything I can to stop it."

Jenna enveloped her niece a warm hug.

****

In Washington DC, a few hours later

Caroline walked in her office. Klaus saw her come in and went to her, knocking at the door out of courtesy.

"Today you have to slay. Take Liv with you and get make the summons on this case be worth our while" Klaus in a serious manner.

Caroline nodded. It was obvious the magic of him being this great comprehensive charmer disappeared over night and he was his usual emotionless sour self.

Why did she care. They had a job to do. Prosecute  criminals and put them in jail. Stop thinking with your heart. Echoed in her head. He is just another waste of time. That's how she labeled some of her men. She called Liv over to her office and they went through the case in question.

Rebekah's day started with somewhat better. One of her patients showed great improvement. But still there was no answer from Marcel. At times she wished she could just tune out.

****

In New Orleans, a few hours later

Elena stuffed nearly a whole beignet reading what Jenna had sent her. But there was nothing that could establish the connection to Nick and his blood needed to be used for a ritual.

"What is not right in this picture?" she muttered going through some of the facts of the Bloodbornes again.

Her phone rang and it was Agent Stavros, notifying her that he was now at the precinct.

"I am on my way" Elena said hanging up.

Meanwhile, in the hospital, Nick woke up with a throbbing headache, born from the strange magical potion Elena gave him. It had kicked something in him, bringing out a memory that rose up like a wind from nowhere.

Flashback

25 years ago

"You will forget about all of this," Dita Galindo said to Nick,"there are no monsters. That are just stories people invented. There are good and evil people. It is as simple as that. Now eat your dinner"

"But I know what I saw. That changed into a wolf." Nick said.

"No. The man befriended the animal. That is all. And your imagination is running wild. But it is all right. You're ten. You will grow out of it."

Dita Galindo did everything possible to make sure Nick didn't know anything of his origin. And he never bothered to find out. He concentrated to work hard at school and get out of Louisiana and get in the FBI. He was diligent, silent, dark and very meticulous. And the name vulture he got always digging into cases that were impossible to solve, digging into dead meat, as some of his colleagues would say.

Nick brushed his fingers over the side of the neck where he was bitten. He took a deep breath. The sudden realization that monsters that bit him were very real, shook him. These monsters wanted him. Why him? Who was he?

He got up and as he wanted to get up he felt faint for a moment. The nurse walked in suggesting he should lay down.

"I want to discharge myself," Nick said,"I will sign any paper. I am not staying here. I need to go"

The nurse checked his IV and then looked at Nick who closed his eyes for a moment. The images of the vampire biting him appeared again. He opened his eyes and now asked the nurse to call the doctor.

“You should rest.” the nurse tried to calm him down, but Nick was too agitated to listen to her.

“I want to see a doctor now! Get me the Attending. Now!” he demanded.

"You are not fit to do anything today" the Attending said.

"I am leaving, so can you just give me whatever I need to sign to get out - and you will be clear form any possible repercussions that might occur" Nick sat up. He pulled the IV needle out of his backhand.

The Attending could see that no matter what he said Nick was determined to leave. He bandaged his hand, and told him that the nurse would be with him shortly.

And so, he was out of the hospital, finding a cab in front that took him to the nearest rent-a-car place. His phone rang and it was Elena. He looked at it and thought for a second whether he should answer or not. The hospital must have told her that he had left. She was his partner and by rights, he had to answer her, but he chose not to and blocked her. But Elena rang again and he blocked her call again. He was not in the mood to talk to her. Not yet. First he had to get some answers himself. Then his voice mail alert came on and he now played her message.

"Whatever you think you are doing. Don't! I know it is not easy to process all what's happened. Been there.Call me back."

Deep down he knew she meant well. He knew that he was now led by his emotions that were jumping all over the place, like someone put him on live wire. But he left the reason behind and now drove like mad to Carencro, where his adoptive mother Dita lived.

Outside the Magic Shop, Elena was pissed that Nick took off without calling her and she now told Agent Stavros that they had to postpone 'scouring' the place.

"I have released Davina's body to the family. But they will not have the funeral till- " Dean said referring to the woman's heart.

Elena sighed. "You believe that it can be retrieved?"

"I heard what Agnes said to you." Dean replied.

Elena was quiet for a second. She could not pull the wool over his eyes. Dean was involved with Davina, but he didn't know how deeply involved she was in the vampiric world.

"Can I help you?" he offered.

"Nahh- plus- you need to rest. This is not over by far. I will need you fresh and ready for what's to come. See you tomorrow" Elena said jumping in the SUV.

"Bloodborns  are described as the offspring of both an Angel, and a Demon. However, users of this power will have the potential to become more powerful than either side.

This is due to the fact that said spirit would be neutral and possess power from the forces of both Light and Darkness. These beings are based off of the Nephillim, the hybrid offspring of an Angel and a human, with the only difference being that both parents are immortal spirits. Their children became Witchers, monster hunters."                  

"Answer, dammit!" Elena kept pressing the speedial with Nick’s number over and over again, but there was no answer. She drove like mad hoping to catch up with him before he got to Heloise's house. And she managed to get there some twenty minutes after him. She could hear Nick asking question after question and Dita not giving him any answers.

Elena knocked on the door and walked in, apologizing to Heloise for being so forward. Nick now looked at her surprised to see her there, "How did you know”

“Where you were?" Elena finished his sentence and sighing a little replied."I know - about you and where you lived as a kid."

It felt like he was slapped on his face. She could see the rage and disappointment rise in his eyes, "What a great partner you are?. What else do you know?"

Dita looked at Elena now, who gave her a nudge with her head to leave them for a moment on their own.

"I know that you are angry right now. And everything that had happened last night isn't helping" Elena said to Nick.

"You are kidding, right? Is this some kind of a sick joke to all of you? All my life I have been lied to. I want answers. But I don't want them from you. I don't know what shit you will tell me to cover something up" He felt faint again and now spat back Elena about the strange thing she gave him that probably was the reason for making him feel weak.

"Ok. Sit down. You are not back to yourself. You have lost a lot of blood."

"The magic makes him like that" Dita said.

Both Elena and Nick now looked at the witch’s direction.

"What magic?" Elena asked straight forward, as she knew that thing could get bad if there was a clash of magic inside a person.

"Set on him, to keep his real nature subsided" Dita said.

Nick sat down now as he was not feeling good.

"Right. Now you have tell me what magic was used on him" Elena said in a steady calm voice. It was clear that Dita was nervous, but she loved Nick, and clearly didn't want him to suffer.

Nick now started sweating and Elena now looked for some cold water and a towel to ease his condition a bit.

He gulped looking at her now. "Tell me- what am I? Why did they take me?"

"I will. But now- we need to get this magic out of you," Elena brushed Nick’s forehead with a damp cloth,"I am sorry that I kept things from you. Big mistake. Fucking big mistake"

Nick now took hold of the brunette’s arm looking at her with eyes that indicated he is going to slip away, but he managed to mutter. "Fucking big mistake, Gilbert"

"Yeah. Later- you can shout and be pissed as much as you want- but now- I need you to stay with me- do you hear me- Ok?"

Nick nodded a little- feeling like his whole body yet again felt like it was going to lose life.

Elena now ordered Dita to get the witch who had done this to him.

"She is not alive, anymore" Dita said.

"Then some other!, Elena said. "This has to be done. He will not make it otherwise. I am fucking serious!"

Dita just waved off with her head. “There is nobody. I’m sorry.”

Elena now took her phone and dialed a number.

"Valerie," Elena said and proceeded explaining what had happened.

"Right. This what you will do,” Valerie said to Elena, who now found a silver knife in the kitchen,"as you cut the blood from your wrist and you pour it in a clean silver bowl, put the dagger on his chest- as you tell the words- conlidam in sanguinem"

"This is going to work?" Elena said in desperation.

"It will"  Valerie said.

"All right," Elena said hanging up,"come on"

She pulled Nick up in a seating position and took his sweater off, and as she helped him lay back, she proceeded with the ritual.

[angelofame]

The Lion with the Raven Wings Chapter 3

In a world where soulmates recognize each other on their marks, two souls find each other due to a common course.

Cullen joined the Inquisition because he wanted to help, to redeem himself. Not in his wildest dreams, he would have ever imagined he would meet his soulmate. Raven just wanted to prevent further bloodshed, not be the Herald of Andraste nor meet her soulmate in the middle of a war.

Can they help become each other the best version of themselves and prevail together, or will they both shatter at their own insecurities?

A Soulmate AU

________________

If you have missed the previous chapter,s you can find it  here

——

Cullen was the first to arrive at the war room the next morning. The next ones to appear were Leliana and Josephine. They were quietly whispering to each other. Then Cassandra barged into the room.

The last to arrive was the Herald. Her face was bare again. The others looked at her, stunned, except Leliana, of course. The spymaster knew probably already about the uniqueness of clan Lavelan. While asking, "Do I have something on my face?" Raven ran her hand over her face to check for dirt or food residue.  

"No, Herald, it's just that ... your face...?" Josephine tried to politely ask the question of, "Where is your vallaslin?" Cassandra blurted out. "Oh, that..." And then she told them the same story she had told him the evening before.

After she had enlightened them about the history of her clan, they continued with the meeting. It was decided that Raven would meet mother Giselle in the Hinterlands. Cassandra, Varric, and Solas would accompany her to the Hinterlands. Soon after the meeting had ended, they set off to their destination.

Cullen, hours later, was watching the recruits fight. He walked from one group to another: correcting and criticizing and sometimes demonstrating how to do it better.

Rylen, his second in command, stood beside him.   "The recruits show great promise." "They are not a hopeless case." Cullen agreed. "But most of them have a long way ahead of themselves, till they are ready for a real fight."

They began to strategize how to train their soldiers best when suddenly a strange weight landed on Cullen's shoulder. He turned his head to the right and looked into the amber-colored eyes of an owl.

"Maker's breath!" Cullen exclaimed. The tawny owl hooted back as if to greet him. Cullen tried to dislocate the owl through moving his shoulder back and forth. When tath didn't work, He tried shooing it away with his left hand.

But the owl seemed not to care. Instead, it snuggled closer to Cullen's ear. The sound it gave off at the moment reminded Cullen of a purring cat but with owl sounds. 'What a strange owl.', he thought.

There was one more thing he could try to get the owl of his shoulder. Carefully he placed both his hands on the plumage at its side. When it didn't react negatively, he gently grasped the owl and equally gently lifted it from his shoulder.

The owl hooted protestingly but didn't do more than that. Cullen set it down on a nearby tree branch where he hoped it would stay or fly off to somewhere else. Fly off it did, but not in the intended direction.

It landed on his shoulder, again, this time on his left. Rylen, who had watched the scene with a bright smile on his face, burst out laughing.

Cullen turned his irritation from the animal, which abused him as a seat to his second in command. Then Cullen took note of the absence of the sound of clashing swords and bashing shields.

With the promise of punishment in his eyes, he turned towards his soldiers.  He seized up every last one of them, daring them to move the corner of their mouths upwards.

Nobody moved a muscle; nobody wanted to be at the receiving end of the commander's ire.  

"Continue the training!" he finally barked. The owl hooted soothingly at him.

Raven and her companions were pretty busy. They met with Mother Giselle, spoke with Master Dennet, liberated a fort from bandits.

Cullen got the news that they would be arriving back at camp soon a week later. The past week he and the owl had come to an understanding. The owl was allowed to reside on his shoulder during the day. She - Adan had told him that the owl was female - would mostly rest there and was off hunting in the night, when she didn't sit next to him on his cot. If she, in return, delivered messages for him.

She had gone so far as in bringing him his quill or other little things if he needed them. His soldiers sometimes looked strange at him, but they were mostly used to it by now.

He was walking through the gate when he saw the group with the Herald arrive back at Haven. The owl sat on his shoulder, dozing, having just got a share of his meat.

Raven dismounted a bit apart from the others, patted her halla on the neck before she walked towards him. She was a few feet away from him when her facial expression changed from delighted to sour.

"You traitor," she hissed. "I was worried about you. I thought you were hurt, or I don't know dead. No word, nothing, and here you are. Standing as nothing had happened, not a care in the world."

That Cullen was confused would be the biggest understatement at the moment. When she called him a little bitch, he had enough.

"Herald, may I ask what I did to upset you?" he asked evenly.

She looked confused. Then her mouth formed a wordless o as she just realized something before she went beet red.

"My apologies, Cullen, I wasn't talking to you. I was talking to her."

She pointed to his right shoulder, the shoulder where an innocent-looking owl was sitting.

Understanding dawned upon him. "She is yours," he concluded.

"As far as one can be the owner of this stubborn owl," Raven answered, then she turned back to the owl.

"Snowy, can you please get my satchel. I know you don't want to. You have a gorgeous man who tends to you, but if you do that, we can think about shared custody. Deal?" She appealed to the owl. It seemed to work because Snowy spread her wings and vanished into the forest.

"I am sorry if she was a handful. I try to encourage her to leave you alone.", she apologized. "She wasn't a bother. She was, surprisingly, good company...for an owl."

Raven gifted him a bright smile at his words, then waved goodbye.

"So, you made a new friend, Curly," Varric said from behind him.

@rachelleofalltrades @darlingrutherford @kemvee

[proxylynn]

Lynchtale: File Name Game of Death #3

Chapter 3: Know the rules, so you can break them.

WARNING: THIS IS A MATURE STORY THAT WILL HAVE BLOOD, GORE, PSYCHOLOGICAL SURVIVAL HORROR, HEAVY CURSING, AND LIKELY SEXUAL THEMES/BONING. I DO NOT OWN UNDERTALE, THAT BELONGS TO LORD TOBY FOX. I DO NOT OWN DEAD BY DAYLIGHT, THAT BELONGS TO BEHAVIOUR DIGITAL INC.. I DON'T OWN THE AU'S THAT SOME OF THE CHARACTERS COME FROM, THEY BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTIVE CREATORS. I DON'T OWN THE IDEA FOR LYNCHTALE, THAT BELONGS TO PUNNYSIDEUP (AKA. SANSFULPUNS). WHAT I DO OWN IS MY SELF-INSERT OC ANOMALY LYNSIE AND THE LOVE OF FAN PARODY. IF YOU'RE STILL READING THIS, THEN CONGRATULATIONS ON EITHER BEING ONE WITH STRONG DETERMINATION OR AN ENDLESS WILL TO OVERCOME THE CHALLENGE OF STOMACHING WHAT I HAVE IN MIND. EITHER WAY, IF YOU LIKE THIS AND/OR MY OTHER CONTENT, SIT BACK AND ENJOY THE ETERNAL PUNISHMENT. HAVE FUN SINNERS. ^_^

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

[Elsewhere: Killer Shack]

*CLANG-CLANG*

"Tra la la. The meeting will now come to order."

Wraith materializes and gets the other killers attention.

"As we have been doing for the last five feed cycles...Tra la la...We will now see if anyone has encountered the new Survivor. Show of hands?"

The room is very still. Till one hand goes up in a cocky way.

"YOU'VE GOT TO BE JOKING."

Trapper says bitterly.

"IF ANYONE SHOULD'VE GOTTEN TO HAVE A STAB AT THE NEW MEAT IT'S ME. I AM THE FIRST CHOSEN. IT IS MY RIGHT TO SPILL THEIR PATHETIC BLOOD UPON THE NEW HUNT."

This is indeed true. While not technically oldest killer, by place in time that's no doubt Plague as she's from a time between 1895-539 BC and by age that is up for questioning as time has no effect on them thus they haven't aged nor have they cared to ask what any of them were, but Trapper does hold the title of first taken by the Entity so he is the senior killer. In order of their arrival there was Trapper, Wraith, Hillbilly, Nurse, Shape, Hag, Doctor, Huntress, Cannibal, Nightmare, Pig, Clown, Spirit, Legion, Plague, and the latest one recruited being Ghost Face. But screw this seniority hierarchy bullshit! Legion's grin is wide, full of bravado, and no one likes it.

"Legion, is it true? Did you come across the human in your trial? Tra la la."

"ah, what's the matter? can't stand that it wasn't any of you that got to have fun with the new meat? well, suck it! that was one of the best hunts i've had ever! *manic laughter*"

Ghost Face creeps his way nearby.

"My my...Two of us now has had her all to themselves. Tell us, darling, how did it go? Was she as Wraith told us? How did you kill her? Details. They are important. Do share."

Feeling like the cock of the walk, Legion puts his hands in his pockets coolly.

"now i'm not one to kill and tell, but since you asked...i didn't kill her."

This gets some odd looks his way.

".........?"

"The Shape is right, deary. How did you not kill her?"

Plague asks legitimately.

"heh...i'll tell you, but i want something in exchange."

"✡⚐🕆 ⚐☠☹✡ 👍⚐☠❄✋☠🕆☜ ❄⚐ ✌💣✌☪☜ 💣☜ 🕈✋❄☟ ❄☟☜ ☜✞☜☼ ☝☼⚐🕈✋☠☝ ☹☜✞☜☹💧 ⚐☞ 👌⚐☹👎☠☜💧💧 ✡⚐🕆 ☝☜❄ ✌💧 ❄✋💣☜ 🏱✌💧💧☜💧📬" (YOU ONLY CONTINUE TO AMAZE ME WITH THE EVER GROWING LEVELS OF BOLDNESS YOU GET AS TIME PASSES.)

The Doctor remarks with a thought they all shared.

"trust me. the info i got is worth it. all i want is a gruesome gateau. and i know at least one of you still has one. you give me that, and i'll tell you every single thing that went down. every...last...little...detail."

"For the Entity's sake! Someone pay the man! I can't take this tease!"

Ghost Face is a needy one. But as a recently recruited killer, it's not like he had the item of request.

"How do we know what you have to say is worth it? For all we know, you're just playing us like a fox with a hare."

Huntress makes a valid point.

"fine. if you really need a sample...she helped me kill the other humans."

This little snippet of what he knew is just tempting enough to win over the majority.

"I shall deliver the offering to you after the meeting, dear."

Nurse says politely and Legion rubs his hands together deviously.

"alright. thank you kindly, lady. now gather round papa legion, kiddies, for i got quite the story to tell."

And he wasn't lying. Legion tells them everything. From her unique terror radius, to her resentment leading to betrayal, and her bizarre behavior before he stopped it from getting worst, to then letting her escape through the hatch. The only things he didn't mention are the small joke moments and the personal torture time. Somethings are just to enjoyed by the ones involved. Not like she enjoyed it. But he certainly did.

"T-This human is an odd one. They n-normally don't t-turn on each other unless w-we're going at them hard."

Pig stutters in thought.

"I'LL GIVE HER CREDIT. SHE DIDN'T STAND FOR THEIR BULLSHIT."

Trapper says with a smirk.

"Come on. she's just a messed up Human. quit sucking her dick like she's the god of all Humans."

Nightmare spats unimpressed.

"hAG thought human was she?"

Oh, Hag, you special bundle of try. Nightmare just glares and shakes his head, he's not one known for his patience.

"What do you think, Doctor? Tra la la."

"✋ ❄☟✋☠😐 ❄☟☜ 💣⚐☼☜ ✋☠❄☜☼☜💧❄✋☠☝ ✌💧🏱☜👍❄ ⚐☞ ☹☜☝✋⚐☠🕯💧 ✌👍👍⚐🕆☠❄ 🕈✌💧 ❄☟✌❄ 💣⚐💣☜☠❄ ☠☜✌☼ ❄☟☜ ☜☠👎📬 ✋❄ 💧☜☜💣☜👎📬📬📬⚐👎👎☹✡ ☼☜💣✋☠✋💧👍☜☠❄📬" (I THINK THE MORE INTERESTING ASPECT OF LEGION'S ACCOUNT WAS THAT MOMENT NEAR THE END. IT SEEMED...ODDLY REMINISCENT.)

"You mean the part where she was TURNING?"

That got them to look at Spirit.

"What? You can't tell me it's not OBVIOUS."

"*cough* Would you care to explain? *hack*"

Clown snarkily questioned through his smoker's lung-like coughing.

"I mean, I don't know if any of you remember, but I know the ENTITY likes to do things to the ones IT LIKES. You can't believe we LOOK LIKE THIS ON PURPOSE."

She brought up a good point. They didn't remember much about their pasts, but they knew most of them weren't as disfigured when they first were claimed by the Entity. Trapper didn't put the iron rods and hooks into his bones. Nurse didn't choke herself with a pillowcase over her head. Hag didn't cake herself in muck and deform her hands. Spirit didn't impale her body in shards of glass and she didn't sever her arms or implant a sword in one. Legion didn't merge with other people because they wanted to. Doctor didn't strap himself into his electroconvulsive gear to pry his eyes and mouth open, nor did he stream the wires into his bones. Wraith didn't lose it's form and identity because it felt like doing so. These were things the Entity did, taking what it knew of them and adding to them, sometimes as a punishment. Sure, other killers didn't go through such visible changes like them. Huntress and Clown only seemed to have blackened out eyes, like a creepy doll or a monstrous shark. Shape, Pig, Ghost Face, and Cannibal were unknowns as they wore masks and tended to don fully covering outfits. The hardest to tell if the Entity did anything to were Plague, Hillbilly, and Nightmare. All three were brought in with some sort of disfigurement so its really hard to say what was done to them if anything.

"SO WHAT YOU'RE SAYING IS...THAT HUMAN, FOR WHATEVER REASON, WAS BECOMING A MONSTER?"

Trapper has a totally non-asshole sounding tone.

"That's my IDEA at least."

It is just an suspicion Spirit had and nothing concrete.

"...THAT'S JUST STUPID."

Never mind, Trapper is just an asshole.

"You shouldn't dismiss it so soon. Tra la la. Nothing is beyond reason when it comes to the Entity."

A very good point made by Wraith.

"✋☞ ❄☟✋💧 ❄☟☜⚐☼✡ ✋💧 ❄⚐ 👌☜ 👌☜☹✋☜✞☜👎📪 🕈☜ 💣🕆💧❄ ☼🕆☠ ✋❄ ❄☟☼⚐🕆☝☟ ✌ ❄☜💧❄📬" (IF THIS THEORY IS TO BE BELIEVED, WE MUST RUN IT THROUGH A TEST.)

Doctor being doctor, always wanting to experiment.

"..........?"

Good question asked by Shape.

"✋ 🏱☼⚐🏱⚐💧☜ ❄☟✌❄ 🕈☜ ✌☝☼☜☜ ❄⚐ ☼🕆☠ ❄☟✋💧 ☟🕆💣✌☠ ❄☟☼⚐🕆☝☟ ✌ 💧☜☼✋☜💧 ⚐☞ 💧❄☼☜💧💧 ❄☜💧❄💧📬 ☞☼⚐💣 🕈☟✌❄ ☹☜☝✋⚐☠ 👎☜💧👍☼✋👌☜👎📪 ☟☜☼ ☜💣⚐❄✋⚐☠✌☹ 💧❄✌❄☜ 💣✌✡ 🏱☹✌✡ ✌ ☼⚐☹☜ ✋☠ ❄☟✋💧 🕯❄🕆☼☠✋☠☝🕯 👌☜☟✌✞✋⚐☼📬 ✌☠✡ ⚐☞ 🕆💧 ❄☟✌❄ ☝☜❄ ❄⚐ ☟🕆☠❄ ☟☜☼ ☠☜✠❄ 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎 🕆💧☜ ❄☟☜ 💧❄☼✌☠☝☜ ☼✌👎✋🕆💧 ❄⚐ ☞✋☠👎 ☟☜☼ ✌☠👎 💣✌😐☜ ❄☟✋☠☝💧 ✌💧 ✋☼☼✋❄✌❄✋☠☝ ✌💧 🏱⚐💧💧✋👌☹☜📬" (I PROPOSE THAT WE AGREE TO RUN THIS HUMAN THROUGH A SERIES OF STRESS TESTS. FROM WHAT LEGION DESCRIBED, HER EMOTIONAL STATE MAY PLAY A ROLE IN THIS 'TURNING' BEHAVIOR. ANY OF US THAT GET TO HUNT HER NEXT SHOULD USE THE STRANGE RADIUS TO FIND HER AND MAKE THINGS AS IRRITATING AS POSSIBLE.)

Toxicity works on both ends of this twisted game.

"What of the other Survivors, deary? Surely they won't let a fellow human go attacked for very long."

Crud, a flaw pointed out by Plague.

"*scoff* those idiots? after that trial and the stunt she pulled, they're going to be looking for reasons to let her get hooked."

A very sad but true fact stated by Legion.

"✌☹☹ ❄☟☜ 👌☜❄❄☜☼ ☞⚐☼ ❄☟✋💧 🏱☹✌☠📬 🕈✋❄☟ ☟☜☼ ❄☜✌💣 ☞🕆☼❄☟☜☼ ���💧⚐☹✌❄✋☠☝ ☟☜☼ ✌☠👎 🕈✋❄☟ 🕆💧 💣✌😐✋☠☝ ❄☟✋☠☝💧 👎✋☞☞✋👍🕆☹❄📪 ✋❄ 💧☟⚐🕆☹👎☠🕯❄ 👌☜ ❄⚐⚐ ☟✌☼👎 ❄⚐ 💣✌😐☜ ☟☜☼ 💧☠✌🏱 🕆☠👎☜☼ ❄☟☜ 🏱☼☜💧💧🕆☼☜📬" (ALL THE BETTER FOR THIS PLAN. WITH HER TEAM FURTHER ISOLATING HER AND WITH US MAKING THINGS DIFFICULT, IT SHOULDN'T BE TOO HARD TO MAKE HER SNAP UNDER THE PRESSURE.)

Cue the dramatic evil music score followed by the rumblings of thunder and lighting.

"Oh man, this is gonna be awesome! That punk is going down!"

Huntress needs very little reason to hunt humans.

"oH! hAG have question!"

A simple one is the Hag, questioning things is her specialty.

"Yes? Tra la la."

"WhaT happENS when the hooman sNaps?"

Not a bad question really.

"The darling does bring up a fair point. If and when the human does crack, what then?"

As curious as he is, Ghost Face is a cautious one and thinks ahead when it comes to his methods.

"don't know. i didn't let things get that far. she was hurting herself to make it stop when i stabbed her."

The mystery continues to mystify.

"☟💣💣💣📬📬📬❄☟☜☠ 🕈☜ 👎⚐ ☟✌✞☜ ✌ 💧💣✌☹☹ 👍☹🕆☜ ✌💧 ❄⚐ 🕈☟✌❄ ❄⚐ 👎⚐ ✋☞ 💧☟☜ 👌☜👍⚐💣☜💧 ✌ 🏱☼⚐👌☹☜💣📬 💧☜☹☞ 🏱✌✋☠ 👎☜☹✌✡💧 ❄☟✋💧 🕯❄🕆☼☠✋☠☝🕯 👌🕆❄ ✋❄🕯💧 ☠⚐❄ ✌💧 💧❄☼⚐☠☝ ✌💧 ❄☼🕆☜ ☟✌☼💣☞🕆☹ ✋☠❄☜☠❄📬 ❄☟☜☼☜☞⚐☼☜📬📬📬✋☞ ❄☟☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠ 👎⚐☜💧 ✋☠👎☜☜👎 💧☠✌🏱📪 🕈☜ ✌☼☜ ❄⚐ 💣⚐☠✋❄⚐☼ ☟☜☼ ✌☠👎 ☹☜✌☼☠ 🕈☟✌❄ ❄☟✋💧 💧❄✌❄☜ 💣☜✌☠💧 ☞⚐☼ 🕆💧📬 ☟⚐🕈☜✞☜☼📪 ✋☞ 💧☟☜ 👌☜👍⚐💣☜💧 ✌☠ ✋💧💧🕆☜ ❄☟☜☠ 👌✡ ✌☹☹ 💣☜✌☠💧 👎⚐ 🕈☟✌❄ ✋❄ ❄✌😐☜💧 ❄⚐ 😐☠⚐👍😐 ☟☜☼ 👌✌👍😐 ✋☠❄⚐ ☟☜☼ ☠⚐☼💣✌☹ 💧❄✌❄☜📬 👎⚐☜💧 ❄☟✋💧 💧⚐🕆☠👎 ☼☜✌💧⚐☠✌👌☹☜ ❄⚐ ❄☟☜ ☼☜💧❄ ⚐☞ ✡⚐🕆✍" (HMMM...THEN WE DO HAVE A SMALL CLUE AS TO WHAT TO DO IF SHE BECOMES A PROBLEM. SELF PAIN DELAYS THIS 'TURNING' BUT IT'S NOT AS STRONG AS TRUE HARMFUL INTENT. THEREFORE...IF THE HUMAN DOES INDEED SNAP, WE ARE TO MONITOR HER AND LEARN WHAT THIS STATE MEANS FOR US. HOWEVER, IF SHE BECOMES AN ISSUE THEN BY ALL MEANS DO WHAT IT TAKES TO KNOCK HER BACK INTO HER NORMAL STATE. DOES THIS SOUND REASONABLE TO THE REST OF YOU?)

A general sound of acceptance is let out. It's settled.

"hey!"

Oh? Seems something is still on Legion's mind.

"let's get something straight before any of you get ideas when dealing with her. she's mine. so don't go thinking you can have any fun times with her."

This declaration gets their attention.

"Yours?"

Hillbilly is befuddled.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO CLAIM OBSESSION RIGHTS TO THE NEW MEAT?"

Trapper sneers.

"trying to claim? no. i already staked it. i sliced my name into her chest. that human belongs to me."

Obsession rights are not easy to get among killers. Currently, only three had them. Shape claimed the human named Laurie, Nightmare claimed the human named Quentin, and Pig claimed the human named Tapp. They were able to do this because they were brought here along with said humans. Sure, other humans have been brought from spots where the killers came from, but this didn't count as there is no direct affiliation. Legion would have to make a very strong case to pass this before the others.

"Did he just say...?"

Cannibal can't even finish.

"You cocky little shit!"

Ghost Face grabs Legion and pins him against a wall.

"What gives you the right to mark the human before bringing up your claim? Do you want me to kick your ass?"

Before things escalate, Shape comes and parts them from each other.

".........."

"But he broke the rules!"

"....."

Ghost Face huffs in annoyance and backs off, leading to Shape turning to Legion.

".........?"

"don't make it sound like something it's not. she's just a quirky human that happened to make killing more interesting. that's it. marking her was a heat of the moment thing. but i figured, what the hell, this might lead to more fun in the future. so i did it."

".............?"

"*scoff* please. don't give me that crap. if you three can handle your unwilling toys, then i should have no trouble with a plaything that actually will play back."

".......?"

"what? no, i'm not going to stalk her. why would i?"

"See?! He can't even fill the role! His claim for obsession rights are trash!"

Ghost Face is clearly sour over this as stalking prey is kind of his thing. Shape is also a stalking killer, as is Nightmare and somewhat Pig. Hell, nearly all of them were stalkers in some way or another except for a few that couldn't help but make very obvious noise without the help of add-ons to quiet them down.

"geez, man. what crawled up your dress to make you such a bitch?"

"This isn't a dress! It's a shroud! For the killer that needs concealment, but craves attention. Black fabrics help give cover, white glossy textures provide fashionable accents. The long jacket helps to keep the rest of the clothes dry as blood splashes with each stab of the knife."

"whatever, weirdo."

"Fuck you!"

Aggravated with the both of them, Nurse slaps them both on the back of the head as a ticked off mom would do.

"Both of you quit this nonsensical squabbling. Honestly...Half the time I cannot tell you apart from babbling children whining over who took the last cookie from the jar."

"But he..."

"No buts. What is done is done. If Legion has marked his claim, I think he should keep it."

Nurse's words take a few back, though none could see the cunning smirk hidden behind that clothe hood.

"What say you, little man? Can you show us that your bite is as strong as your bark and actually do as you claim? Or will you prove the naysayers right by continuing to boast like a pitiful whelp starving for attention?"

Legion snarls.

"i am so sick of everyone talking down to me like i'm some sort of joke. well, you know what? fuck you! fuck all of you! i'm just as ruthless as you assholes, if not more so! i don't need your stinking approval. that human is mine. and i'm going to show you all that i'm not to be fucked with!"

Legion shows that he's a mature person by storming out of there like a fed-up kid going to brood in their room.

"You didn't have to goad him like that. Tra la la. You know how unpredictable he can be."

Nurse shrugs dismissively at Wraith.

"Funny. Because he reacted just as I predicted. Like a child."

"N-Now that he's gone, c-can we discuss his claim p-properly?"

Fairly asked by Pig.

"IF THE RUNT THINKS HE CAN HANDEL THINGS LIKE A MAN, THEN FUCK IT. LET HIM TRY. IT'LL BE HILARIOUS WHEN HE FAILS. AND IT'S NOT LIKE IT'LL ITERFER WITH US IN ANY WAY."

Ghost Face is not taking this line of talk from Trapper well.

"You can't be serious? What if I went out and claimed a human as my obsession? How would you react to that?"

"I'D BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU AND TAKE YOUR OFFERINGS."

"But...That's hypocrisy! Why can he get away with it and not me?!"

Trapper growls lowly.

"FOR ONE, HE'S BEEN HERE LONGER THAN YOU. YOU'VE BEEN HERE FOR ALMOST THREE MONTHS WORTH OF FEEDING CYCLES WHEREAS THIS WILL BE HIS NINTH. SECOND, YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A TERRITORY WHERE YOU CAN CONDUCT YOUR BUSINESS. YOU'VE BEEN LOITERING IN ALL OF OURS LIKE SOME BUM. AND THIRD, IT'S NOT AMUSING WHEN YOU FAIL. YOU ACTUALLY KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING AND ENJOY IT. HIM ON THE OTHER HAND...?"

Trapper folds his arms and shuts his eyes.

"LEGION MIGHT HAVE BEEN CHOSEN BY THE ENTITY, BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN HE'S A NATURAL KILLER."

Ghost Face is confused.

"What do you mean?"

"*SIGH* IT'S LIKE SPIRIT SAID, JUST LOOK AT US. WE DON'T LOOK LIKE THIS FOR NO REASON. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU TRY TO REFUSE THE ENTITY'S OFFER OF SERVITUDE. IT DOESN'T TAKE REJECTION WELL."

"*cough* Typical woman. *hack*"

Clown is glared at venomously by the females for that.

"MY POINT BEING, SOME OF US ARE HERE BECAUSE THIS IS LIKE A PARADISE. ENDLESS SLAUGHTER AND NO REAL CONSEQUENCES. SO YOU PROBABLY TOOK TO IT WITH NO ISSUE. BUT FOR THE REST OF US, THE ONES THAT SAID NO AT THE START...WELL...YOU SEE WHY WE THEN SAID YES WHEN ASKED AGAIN."

"But what does that have to do with him?"

"BECAUSE HE SAID NO TO ALL THIS. HE MAY KILL BUT IT'S NOT SOMETHING HE WANTS TO DO. HE HAS TO DO IT. HE HAS TO PROVE HIMSELF. TO THE ENTITY, TO US, AND HIMSELF. IT SHOWS THAT HE KNOWS HE CAN DO BETTER. I RESPECT THAT DRIVE EVEN IF HE'S A LITTLE SHIT. AND AS ENTERTAINING AS IT IS TO SEE HIM FAIL, I'D BE LYING IF I SAID I WASN'T LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING HIM SUCCEED."

This doesn't seem to help Ghost Face at all.

"So just because I'm new, good at my job, and like it, I don't get to have the same rights as that jackass? That's bullshit!"

"NOT TO MENTION, YOU'RE ALSO A WHINY LITTLE BITCH THAT PISSES ME OFF."

"Fuck you!"

The sudden sound of bone on metal bashes when Trapper rushes over and punches Ghost Face's face, knocking the shrouded killer across the room.

"KNOW YOUR PLACE, NEWBIE. YOU WANT RIGHTS? RESPECT? POWER? THEN FUCKING EARN IT! DON'T BITCH ABOUT LIKE YOU'RE ENTITLED. TAKE TIME TO PROVE YOU SHOULD AND THEN WE'LL TALK."

Ghost Face sneers yet relents...for now. He'll have to bide his time and find some other way to play things his way.

"Um...Other than this stuff, are there any other matters that need to be brought up? Tra la la."

Wraith queries to which Huntress raises her ax up high.

"Oh! I have noticed the signs of an upcoming Blood Hunt."

"Hmmm...Tra la la...This is twice now one has come around All Hallows' Eve."

"☟⚐🕈 ✌🏱🏱☼⚐🏱☼✋✌❄☜📬 💧☜☜✋☠☝ ✌💧 ❄☟☜ ☟✌☹☹⚐🕈☜👎 👌☹✋☝☟❄ ✋💧 ❄☟☜☠ ✌💧 🕈☜☹☹📬" (HOW APPROPRIATE. SEEING AS THE HALLOWED BLIGHT IS THEN AS WELL.)

This gets some odd looks from Plague and Ghost Face.

"I will explain. Once a year for two weeks worth of feedings, the Entity undergoes a purge. During this period, the Entity is infested with blight. The cankers bloom into a strange type of flower that spurts putrid nectar. A thick fluid that oozes like pus from infected wounds."

Nurse explains.

"YOU FORGET THAT IT'S ALSO THE TIME WHERE THOSE OTHER ASSHOLES LIKE TO MESS WITH US. FUCKING HUMANS."

Trapper spits venomously.

"How are the humans trouble during that time, deary?"

"✋☞ ✡⚐🕆 ❄☟✋☠😐 ✋🕯💣 ❄🕈✋💧❄☜👎📪 ❄☟☜☼☜ ✌☼☜ ❄🕈⚐ ☟🕆💣✌☠ 💣✌☹☜💧 ❄☟✌❄ 🏱🕆❄ 💣☜ ❄⚐ 💧☟✌💣☜📬 ❄☟☜✡ ☟✌✞☜ ☜☹🕆👎☜👎 🕆💧 ✌☠👎 ☜✞☜☠ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡ ☞⚐☼ ✈🕆✋❄☜ 💧⚐💣☜ ❄✋💣☜📬 ❄☟☜ 👍☹☜✞☜☼ 👌✌💧❄✌☼👎💧 ☹✋😐☜ ❄⚐ 👌☜ ☜✞☜☠ 👌⚐☹👎☜☼ ❄☟✌☠ ☹☜☝✋⚐☠ ✌☠👎 ✌👌👎🕆👍❄ 💧⚐💣☜ ⚐☞ 🕆💧📬" (IF YOU THINK I'M TWISTED, THERE ARE TWO HUMAN MALES THAT PUT ME TO SHAME. THEY HAVE ELUDED US AND EVEN THE ENTITY FOR QUITE SOME TIME. THE CLEVER BASTARDS LIKE TO BE EVEN BOLDER THAN LEGION AND ABDUCT SOME OF US.)

That's something they weren't expecting to hear.

"✋❄ 💧☜☜💣💧 ❄☟☜💧☜ ☟🕆💣✌☠💧 ☟✌✞☜ 💣✌👎☜ 💧⚐💣☜❄☟✋☠☝ ☞☼⚐💣 ❄☟✋💧 👌☹✋☝☟❄☜👎 🏱🕆💧💧📬 ✌ 🏱🕆❄☼✋👎 💧☜☼🕆💣📬 ❄☟✋💧 💧☜☼🕆💣📪 👍✌🕆💧☜💧 🕆💧 ❄⚐ 💣🕆❄✌❄☜ 🕈☟☜☠ ✋☠☺☜👍❄☜👎 🕈✋❄☟ ✋❄📬 ❄☟✌☠😐☞🕆☹☹✡📪 ❄☟✋💧 🏱✌✋☠☞🕆☹ 💣🕆❄✌❄✋⚐☠ ☹✌💧❄💧 ⚐☠☹✡ ✌💧 ☹⚐☠☝ ✌💧 ❄☟☜ 👌☹✋☝☟❄ ✋❄💧☜☹☞ ☞⚐☼ ❄☟☜ ☜☠❄✋❄✡📬" (IT SEEMS THESE HUMANS HAVE MADE SOMETHING FROM THIS BLIGHTED PUSS. A PUTRID SERUM. THIS SERUM, CAUSES US TO MUTATE WHEN INJECTED WITH IT. THANKFULLY, THIS PAINFUL MUTATION LASTS ONLY AS LONG AS THE BLIGHT ITSELF FOR THE ENTITY. )

"Who's been blighted before?"

To this question, five hands are put up. Trapper, Wraith, Hillbilly, Doctor, and Huntress.

"*cough* To their credit. It's not like they haven't tried on the rest of us. *wheeze* Nurse nearly got the stuff but only was messed up a little bit. *hack*"

"I had a pumpkin for a head. I would not call that a little messed up."

So this is a thing. A thing that no one thought they'd picture.

"Should we tell Legion about this? The dear is also not one that knows of this event or it's hassles."

"NAH. HE'LL FIND OUT ONE WAY OR ANOTHER."

"With that said, is there any further business in need of addressing? Tra la la."

No one has anything further after all of that.

"Very well. Tra la la. Meeting adjourned."

*CLANG-CLANG*

With that, Wraith vanishes and takes its leave among the other killers.

[Elsewhere: Survivor Campsite]

"'ow she doin'?"

David asks Claudette and Quentin, both of whom are tending to Lynsie who inexplicably collapsed after returning from the last trial.

"It's odd. There are no signs of anything physically wrong with her. Yet she seems to be suffering from Hypovolemia, a state of decreased intravascular volume. This may be due to either a loss of both salt and water or, the more likely culprit, a decrease in blood volume."

Claudette's so smart. It's no wonder she's the top healer of the group.

"She mentioned that Legion 'ad a bit of fun with 'er. Probably roughed 'er up pretty good. But the Entity should've fixed that. Right? The damn thing always does when we finish trial."

"I was thinking about that..."

Now for Quentin's evil theory of the day!

"From what Dwight said, the Entity was turning her into a killer. And from what we've found in those pages of Benedict Baker's journal, the Entity will punish killers that either don't perform well or downright refuse it. I think this was her punishment, a small warning, for refusing the Entity."

"And just 'ow would the big nasty in the sky know that?"

"Because that son of a bitch is everywhere."

Detective Tapp joins in on the conversion.

"I've been looking at this place like I would a crime scene. Trying to make some sense of things. It ain't easy. But some things are and the Red Stain is one of them."

"'ow do you figure that, ol' man?"

"Boy, I will slap you if you call me that again."

David rolls his eyes.

"Now from what I've gathered, I suspect that the intensity of the Stain is directly linked to the range of the Terror Radius the Killer has, meaning that Killers with a shorter Terror Radius have a fainter Stain and Killers with a larger Terror Radius have a stronger Stain."

"Makes sense so far."

"I also suspect that the Stain works as means for the Entity to watch over the trials directly through the Killer's eyes. An indication of this being the case is the of that Killer ability Beast of Prey, as the Stain is gone because the Killer momentarily loses their connection to the Entity and is free to roam due to their bloodlust being so strong."

"So the moment her eyes made the Stain..."

"The Entity knew. Probably saw through Legion's eyes why it wasn't working on her. Nutty kid for thinking she could fight off something like the Entity."

"Then what do we do?"

A not wild Dwight appears.

"About her I mean."

The group looks at the unconscious member with uncertainty.

"As much as I hate to agree with Nea, she does make a point. If at any moment for any reason a team member can suddenly start attacking the team, that does make her a liable threat."

Claudette makes a point.

"But it wasn't for just any reason. She only snapped because she was angry. Angry that we didn't even treat her like she was on the team."

Dwight says somberly.

"*scoff* Severs you fuckers right then. It's about time there was somethin' to put douchebags in there place around 'ere."

Judgmental eyes are cast onto David.

"What?"

"You have an annoying habit of trying to fight the monsters."

"So?"

"You end up dying 96% of the time."

"'ey, you 'ave the respect my 4% chance of doin' anythin'."

"Maybe if it was actually helpful."

"Says the twat that spends 'is 'elpful time 'indin' in lockers."

"Hey!"

"Will you both shut it. You're bickering isn't helping anyone."

Dwight huffs and David mutters curses under his breath.

"So getting back to the point, we've covered the whole she'll hulk out when angry. But what do we do when she does get in smash mode?"

Quentin's age really shows sometimes.

"The kid makes a good point. A silly one, but a point none the less."

"Thanks?"

"But what do we do if she does become a killer? It's not like we can take down a normal monster."

"The same thing we do to every other monster..."

Nea shouts.

"Bash them over the head with pallets!"

Nea's guide to toxicity rule #1: If there is a chance to smack something with a pallet, do it!

"Yeah...No. That just pisses people off more."

"We're lookin' for ways to not make 'er mad. I think bein' bashed in the 'ead contradicts that."

Nea folds her arms uncaring.

"I don't care if it makes her mad. The goal is to make what's chasing you stop the chase."

"By pissin' them off even more?"

"It's called tactical frustration, dingus! You make the other person so mad that they want nothing to do with you anymore."

"So bein' a cunt?"

"Fuck you!"

"Fuck you."

*CROWS CAW*

Fluttering shadows morph from the trees and scatter across the ever glowing gloom of the sky. This garners attention above all other matters.

"The crows..."

"Damn it! The Entity was listenin'."

"It's always listening, dork. It just normally doesn't care about what it hears."

"It cared now."

Meg interjects.

"The real question is...Why?"

"In my experience, it's never a good thing for when a supernatural interdimensional elder god takes interest in anything human-related."

Ash rings in with blunt truth. When something beyond human understanding meddles in human affairs it rarely ends without great suffering of some kind. But who would suffer? One of them? All of them? Humans? Monsters? Who bloody well knows?! That's the terrifying aspect of it. Fate's unpredictability.

[Elsewhere: The Void]

My eyes slowly open to fog. Nothing but dark thick fog. The kind of fog that doesn't just blind you but fucks with your other senses. There's this weird floating feeling even though I know I'm touching the ground. Or what I assume is ground. It's something solid and I just choose to believe its ground because I don't want to think of what it could be otherwise. The air has no smell to it, it's dull and messes with my nose. It even has a faint charred smoky taste to it like you've just licked some burnt charcoal. And as for sound, there is none. There's nothing but this weird dead silence that is just eerie enough that I can sense something is around but again all there is quiet. Moving around to explore is not an option. Not that I can't move, I just choose not to because fuck you, I don't want to be automatically killed by unknown danger like the last time I went off into obvious danger zones.

[The Entity sees that you are learning, little worm. No longer running off into the unknown. Very wise.]

Well, that doesn't make me feel better about the situation.

"Look, I'm not gonna beat around the bush here. You can easily mess me up in ways I probably wouldn't begin to think of just for giggles and I'm not dumb enough to piss you off to do so. So in the bluntest way I can think of asking...What the fraggle happened to me and where/why am I here, oh mighty Entity?"

My attitude started to kick in near the end so I figured a little cuteness will keep me from being turned inside out or something else fucked up.

[My, the Entity forgets how bothersome you worms can be. It is no wonder why we do not speak so often. But it is understandable that a worm would be confused by what the Entity does.]

It is at this moment that I come to believe the Entity speaks in the third person and yet in a way that is still grammatically fitting. I guess ego is next to godliness.

[You, you odd and yet interesting little worm, are a strange creature even by what the Entity knows. The Entity has brought you here so that things would be...well...less of a hassle.]

"Sounds reasonable so far. Yet where is HERE exactly?"

[This is the Void. Or that is what you worms tend to call it. It is a different plane of existence. A place where the Entity stores the broken worms that are no longer of any use.]

I remember being told about this place. The Survivors that have given up and lost all hope end up here as they aren't useful food anymore. That explains the feelings this place is giving me.

"Wow. One trial and you deem me Void worthy? Must be a record."

This earns it a bit of a laugh.

[Amusing. No, little worm, you have not warranted a spot of permanence here...yet. The Entity has brought you here for two reasons. The first, to tell you of your role and personal skills in this delicious game. The second will come later.]

I got skillz!

[These skills or Perks are abilities that the Entity is generous enough to allow you to have. Each side is given three, so you worms are just as capable as the beasts. You may choose to share these perks with the other worms or keep them to yourself and hone them to make yourself better. The choice is yours and yours alone.]

So I can either be a decent person and increase the whole team's chances of living or I can be a dick.

[Your first perk is named after that clever move you pulled in the trial...Snowball's Chance.]

This orange diamond or square standing on its points pops up in front of me and it depicts a glob being thrown.

[Snowball's Chance: Activatable Perk. While within the Killer's Terror Radius and in a Chase for 45 seconds activates Snowball's Chance. Once Snowball's Chance is activated, you may be able to scoop whatever you can grab from the ground to throw at or away from the Killer. Choosing the away option will create a loud noise notification for the Killer at a distance of 10/15/20 meters and provides a helpful distraction provided the Killer goes for it. Choosing the at Killer option, if hit in the face, will momentarily blind them as well as stun them, whereas a normal body hit merely provides a stun. Snowball's Chance deactivates once it has been used.]

"That...sounds badass."

Honestly, it kind of feels like an RGP game where I made up a move for my character and some game developer thought it was just cool enough to put the character/move into their game. I'm a fucking nerd and love this shit! The image in the diamond changes to a pic of me crawling with a sneaky grin.

[The second perk is called...Skulker's Instinct.]

Sounds ominous.

[Skulker's Instinct: Always Active Perk. Years of isolation and distrust have taught you a thing about the benefits of paranoia. You crawl close to the floor instead of crouching, this prevents you from leaving Scratch Marks and gives you faster movement speed compared to crouching by 90/95/100%. This level of stealth allows you to avoid alerting Crows but does spook other Survivors if you bump into them, making them yelp and alerting the Killer. Also, if injured, you know better than to make a sound, you hold in the sounds of pain for the first time at least. Any future injuries will cause you to whimper.]

"I suppose that's fair. And I can be creepy as hell, so the random spooking seems about right."

[The third perk is quite delightful. It is called...Breaking Point.]

That one doesn't sound so good and the image of me looking unhinged doesn't help either.

[Breaking Point: Triggered Perk. Due to your mental toughness, you can handle most stressful situations that would cripple a normal person. But you are only human and even you have a limit where things start to get under your skin. The more your team screws around and the Killer attacks you or hinders your progress, the frustrating stress will begin to pile on until you can take it no longer. Resentment Tier I: Your annoyance level begins to grow, you are more agitated and on your guard. Your speed is reduced by 15% and preforming Skill Checks gets hard to do. Resentment Tier II: All effects of Tier I. The continued stress is not helping you, you can not trust your teammates with even the simplest task and the Killer is not making matters better either. Your frustration makes performing Skill Checks extremely difficult as you are not as focused. You aren't sure how much more you can take. Resentment Tier III: All effects of Tier II. You can no longer take it. Everyone is against you. They want you to die. You have no choice. You must kill or be killed!]

This has me disturbed, to say the least.

"Uh..."

[Which leads into your special ability. The Entity has dubbed it...The Anomaly State.]

"Special ability?"

[Yes, special ability. All Killers have one.]

I'm not liking this anymore.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa...Whoa! I am no killer."

[Oh sure. And what you did to Jake was merely some aggressive affection.]

"I didn't want to hurt him!"

[Yes you did.]

"No. I didn't!"

[Yes, you did. You wanted to hurt him for disrespecting you and talking down to you like some lowly worm. And how dare he do such a thing. He does not know you or your hardships. He lived a life of wealth and comfort. How dare he talk to you like he is superior.]

I know what it's doing. It's trying to talk to me like it's on my side. Like it cares. Appealing to me to make me believe in this false sympathy. It is cruel and manipulative...I fucking hate that It's worming into my head!

[And Dwight...He thinks he is so clever, telling you bits and pieces but not whole truths. If he was not willing to tell you everything before, what makes you think he will tell you anything now? Now that he has seen the beast in you.]

It's getting to me. I'm growling softly and making fists.

[Let us not forget David. Surely even you can see that he is merely using you. Pretending to be interested in something more when all he wants is your body. Do you believe that he will remain friendly once he had taken what he has wanted?]

Stop it! Stop making so much sense!

[Face it, little worm. It is as you have always known. You can not rely on others. They have their own motives and desires. No one will help you out of innocence. There is always something others want from you and will do anything to get it. Even if those means include toying with your very heart.]

"And why should I believe you? You have your own motives too."

[That is true. Yet my motive is very clear and the Entity can not lie. The Entity gains no matter if the beasts or worms are successful. The Entity is neither your friend or foe, though you may believe otherwise.]

Damn it! I hate it when something obviously bad makes incredibly good points!

[Now, if you will allow the Entity to continue, the Entity will explain further.]

I bite my tongue. Nothing I say matters to this thing anyway. It's only humoring me for the time being.

[Each Killer has a very unique Power. Each is distinct and stands out from the others. You are no different...and yet you are. This is due to your soul.]

"My soul?"

[Yes. That soul of yours is not natural for one of your kind. It is...rather delectable.]

Creepy.

[But its oddness is why we are speaking and why the Entity sees fit in gifting you such rare power.]

Dare I ask?

"And what be this power that you would bestow upon me?"

It's freaky in how I can almost feel it smirk. The diamond thing changes to a gray square and now shows a split shot of my face. One side is normal. The other side is like Batman villain Twoface.

[Special Ability: Anomaly State. Upon Breaking Point's Resentment Tier III activation, you will undergo a notable mental breakdown and such a snap opens you up to the Entity. The touch of the Entity leaves burning scars and blisters of light. Is it a gift or a curse? That's up to you as you become the Corrupted Survivor. This tainted essence is always within you, giving off a radius that Killers can pick up on and use to track you down similar to the one you can hear to know when a Killer is close by. As the Corrupted Survivor, you only have one goal...Survive. Your team is a liability, holding you down and keeping you in harm's way. Killing them will increase your odds of making it out alive. The fewer there are, the fewer things they can get in the way of. These actions will please the Entity but the real Killer might not be happy about you stealing its prey. True Killers can still attack and kill you in this state, so even they are just another obstacle in your way. You can not kill a Killer. But you can incapacitate them for a short time and allowing you to finish what you have started. Taking down a Killer grants you immeasurable Bloodlust, making your movement speed increase to 10.0 m/s and letting you see the auras of any remaining Survivors for 3 seconds.]

Not gonna lie, that both is blood-chilling and thrilling at the same time.

[However...]

Oh?

[Just as there are ways to trigger this False Killer state, there are ways to prevent and reverse you back to normal. So long as your team performs as you think they should and do not mess up often, Breaking Point will not activate. If Breaking Point is activated and only at Tier I, the effects can be undone by your team avoiding injuring for 2 minutes or repairing 1 generator. If Breaking Point is activated and at Tier II, your team will need to do better by avoiding damage for 4 minutes or repairing 2 generators. If Breaking Point is activated and at Tier III, Anomaly State will activate. If Anomaly State is active, your team can try to revert you to normal by either proving their worth in doing tasks needed to escape or cause you enough pain to regain some clarity. Proving their worth can be done by restoring generators, healing teammates, hindering the real Killer, and unlocking the gates. Clarity through pain is done by blinding with flashlights, being stunned with pallet drops, being disoriented by firecrackers, and being stabbed by carried victims. If Anomaly State is undone, there is a cooldown time of 4 minutes before Breaking Point can trigger again. Killers can also use pain to revert you to normal, with enough damage from clashing with the real Killer you will be back to being just another piece of meat waiting to be hooked.]

The square thing disappears but not the imprint of what has just been told to me. I am now a living version of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. At any point in a trial, I can be driven into such rage that I will start to kill my team.

[What say you, little worm? Do you like the gifts the Entity has given you?]

Don't be a smartass. This is basically a god you're dealing with. Pissing it off will only add more salt and acid to this wound I call existence. Though it could do without the condescending tone.

"Though I'm not sure why you've done so, I am flattered you've went to such trouble. Thank you, oh mighty Entity."

Why is it now that I realize I'm talking to a voice in my head? And why does it feel normal? I am strangely okay with this and I am not okay with that.

[Good. Very good. The Entity appreciates this version of you. Perhaps you are now more willing to play by the rules and will not have to be punished for very long.]

This confuses me.

"I'm sorry?"

[Oh, you will be. There are consequences for disobedience, little worm. And the Entity does not like it when others try to deny that which is meant to be.]

The ground beneath me rumbles for a moment before I lose my balance and end up impaled through the gut by something that has my heart stop. A spidery-like claw is jutting from my insides and weirdly enough there is no blood. Yet there is pain. Lots and lots of pain! My roar is harsh and hurts my throat. But the claw is merely the beginning. The ground pushes up more and more claws protrude out, making like I'm in the palm of a massive hand.

"Holy shit..."

The claws crush around me, twisting my torso to the side and pointing me up towards what I guess is a sky.

[You will be a good little worm and embrace the power given to you.]

"Yes! I swear I'll be good!"

The claws tighten, my bones ache in pain, and the claw coming out of me twitches slowly down to etch its tip against my head.

[And you will no longer harm yourself.]

"I promise! I promise!"

[Good girl.]

The claw's tip beings to force itself into my skull.

[While you do say the needed things, the Entity believes you should still learn from your defiance. It will be some time before your body regenerates the blood you lost during the trial and allow you to fully wake up. So till then, the Entity will happily make sure you know just how things work here. Your first lesson, what happens when you bring the displeasure of refusal and failure to please the Entity.]

It inches painfully deeper into my brain. My howls are deafening yet have no echo in this place, the fog damping all sound.

[Yes. Wail all you like. Suffering adds such flavor to the soul. And the fear...Tasty, tasty, beautiful fear. Truly it is the spice of life. You worms all taste so much better when you are afraid.]

This is merely the beginning of a very long and agonizingly drawn-out torture. Since this is basically my spirit/mind in this Void, any harm done is all going to further fuck over my mental health and probably going to make it easier to break when under similar stress. All I know is I'm not coming out of this unscathed.

(UNKNOWN AMOUNT OF TIME LATER)

With a loud gasp and violent bolt upright, I finally cast my eyes on something other than the claws of the Entity exploring new ways of doing awful things to me. My body is shaking. Ears ringing. And there's a searing burn coming from my chest. My senses are so dull that once I register that there's something on my shoulder I throw myself halfway across the camp in fear that the claws have come back and I hold myself in sheer fright. Of course that's not really the case. It was just David. Yet this does little to calm my panicking heart and rapid breathing.

"Whoa now. Take it easy, Luv. It's only me."

He takes a few steps towards me before stopping at the blocking arm of Jane.

"Oi, what's your deal?"

"Look at her. She needs a moment. Just give her a bit of space before you go over there."

He grumbles to himself but listens to the woman. Allowing me to regain some semblance of normality. My brain catches up to what is really around me and very slowly settles down from the adrenaline that comes from being fucking terrorized by the Entity for who knows how long. Speaking of which...

"H-How long?"

Did...Did my voice just crack? Geez, I'm messed up if I can't even control that basic function.

"How long what?"

Laurie comes near but keeps a fair distance from me.

"How long was I gone?"

This question has them looking at me funny. I don't like how they're looking at me.

"Gone?"

"Luv, you never left camp."

Granted, they have no clue what I meant by "gone". Still, telling me anything else like "we're not sure" or a number of trials that went by while I slept would be much better. Instead, this dumb answer feels like they're talking to me like a child and it pisses me off.

"Don't talk down to me and tell me how long I've been out!"

My head throbs, both in lingering pain and frustration.

"A while..."

Adam's input is made.

"At least ten or so trials past since you blacked out."

Okay, but what does that mean? A day? Two days? A week? Why haven't these numbnuts found a way to measure time?!

"Too long...Too god damn long..."

I move to stand but find my legs a bit wobbly. Claudette brings a medkit over.

"Try not to move around too fast or so much. You don't want to hurt yourself."

I huff a slight snarl.

"Don't waste that kit. Just teach me Self-Care so I can take care of myself."

Her face, among the others, is shocked.

"How do you know about...?"

"Your Perks?"

I cut her off merely to shut her up so I can explain. Otherwise, we'll be here playing 20 Questions till trial starts.

"I know your Perks. I know ALL of your Perks. It wouldn't let me leave without knowing everything. Forcing each and every bit of information you all failed to tell me so deep into my skull that I'm sure it erased what little childhood memories I had left to do so."

I point at her.

"Your three Perks are Botany Knowledge, Empathy, and Self-Care."

"I don't understand. We never told you..."

"Are you ignoring me or just stupid? It told me EVERYTHING. The Entity told me the things none of you ever bothered to. Like seeing Auras, Scratch Marks, Add-ons, Sabotaging Hooks, Cleansing Totems, and some weird-ass shit called the Bloodweb. Which, by the way, thank you all for being so nice in telling me. It really means a lot that you are all so nice and caring. Oh, wait, no you're not. You're all a bunch of bastards!"

My head pangs harder. A foreboding sense of dread tingles my spine.

"Easy now. Please calm down."

Dwight's voice seems almost distantly muffled in my ears.

"I know you're upset. But you don't need to get worked up over it."

This almost has me seeing red.

"Worked up? You haven't seen worked up. This isn't me upset. This is me after the Entity has had it's fun! Punishing me. Doing god awful things to me...Being killed by the monsters is a dream compared to the nightmare I suffered!"

Nea scoffs.

"Geez. Overly dramatic much?"

My eye twitches and the pain in my head is getting worse. I roar out in agonizing discomfort.

"Stop it! Stop pissing me off! I can't control the beast at Tier III!"

The mentioning of something like a tier gets attention. Though my throbbing head isn't helping me in trying to concentrate. Suddenly, mostly because the pain made my eyes shut, David surprises me by grabbing hold of my face and forcing me to lock eyes with him.

"Look at me. Ignore them, Luv. I got you. Block everythin' else that ain't me. Do that for me, Luv. I know you can."

His eyes. Dark brown and intense yet soft. Why can't I look away?

"That's my girl. Focus on this mug of mine and know it's gonna be okay."

It takes a moment before I regain the memory to blink. In this state, it's easy to get lost in those eyes of his. His smirk is also strangely reassuring.

"Heh. Trippy."

"What?"

"Did you know that your eyes change color?"

"Yeah. Not sure why or when it happens."

"They were kinda red-orange before and now dullin' to light brown."

"Normally they're ether light brown, hazel, light green, or some mix of those. Any other color is rare and just tends to happen."

He smiles.

"So...Feelin' better?"

"A little bit."

"Anythin' I can do to make that little bit bigger?"

I bite my tongue.

"Come on. You can tell me."

I start to blush.

"...Hug?"

He surprised yet I'm the one more shocked that he actually does it. His embrace has me feeling so weak. I tremble, wanting to give in and break down. To cry and let this pain out. But I don't. I won't let myself be so open. Not around them. Not even him.

"'ow about now?"

I just nod against him.

"Do you...I don't know...Wanna talk about stuff?"

[You may choose to share these Perks with the other worms or keep them to yourself and hone them to make yourself better. The choice is yours and yours alone.]

The Entity's words come back to me like a whisper on the wind. Part of me really wants to make them suffer as I have. But I don't want to be like them.

"Okay...But only because there's important stuff to tell you guys."

"Do you want me to stay by your side?"

"...Maybe."

He merely chuckles and musses up my hair playfully. While it is true, what the Entity said about him is something I've thought of when it comes to David's intentions, he sadly is the only one at camp I trust. That and he's not that bad of a guy to be around even if his flirting can get a bit tiresome.

With little coaxing, the others gather around the fire as I tell them what the Entity told me. I do my best to explain my three perks. Though it's the special ability that interests them the most. And can I blame them? Now they have confirmation that a team member can become a killer and attack them if things aren't going so well. It's a downright terrifying idea. One that I'm sure the Entity loves. Still, even though I am telling them these things, I refuse to share with them just how to use my perks for themselves. My faith in these people is nearly non-existent, not including David who's the one keeping me sane after all this crap. Plus, I'd rather understand these perks better myself before passing anything along to them. Frankly, the only ones they could use would be Snowball's Chance and Skulker's Instinct. Breaking Point would be useless to them as it serves no purpose other than to trigger my killer side which is exclusively a me thing. However, my reluctance to share my perks is not taken kindly.

"What kind of crap is this? You want us to share our perks but you won't share yours?!"

Feng beats Nea to the punch on being pissed off.

"I just found out about these things. Let me understand how they work."

"What's there to understand? You throw shit and you're stealthy. There. I did it for you."

Now Nea says her bit.

"If it's so simple then why can't you do it?"

Meg sticks up for me.

"Because fuck you, that's why."

"Cunt, would you shut up. Luv's not askin' for all our perks. Just one. And it ain't even yours."

David is right. I've only asked for one perk and it's Claudette's Self-Care. It unlocks the ability to heal yourself without a Med-Kit at 50% the normal Healing speed and increases the efficiency of Med-Kit self-heal by 10%, for Claudette herself this is 20%. I asked for this skill so that damage wouldn't bother me as much and trigger my killer side. But I guess assholes can't see the big picture what with their head being so far up their butts.

"Call me a cunt again, you Limey bastard! I fucking dare you!"

"And your lot wonders why the rest of the world hates ya."

I tug on David's ear and he whines.

"'ey, what was that for?"

"You don't need to keep throwing logs on her fire. Just ignore it and eventually the heat will die down."

He looks at me funny before draping his thick arm around my shoulders.

"Ah, Luv, 'ad we ever met outside of this place I don't think we'd go very far."

"Oh? Why's that?"

"Because you'd be tryin' to talk me out of fightin'. And me not bein' able to fight just ain't right."

I simply smirk.

"Fair enough. But...We'd still be cool otherwise, right?"

"A rockin' bird like you? Oh yeah. I'd be a right proper git to not be interested in keepin' you around."

"Heh. You're not such a bad bloke yourself, Scrappy-Doo."

"...I was goin' to say it's sexy when you use English, but you killed it by callin' me that cartoon dog."

"Yet the resemblance is uncanny."

"Hey!"

Oh right, Nea's still here and being annoying.

"Don't act like I'm not here."

"Nea, just stop it already."

Ace speaks up.

"The kid has a right to learn her skills before giving them away."

"Up yours, old man."

"Know what..."

Bill interjects.

"I seem to recall a time when you flat out told us to 'shove it' when we asked about your perks."

"Yeah...well...*scoff* Fine! Do whatever. I don't care anyway."

She storms away to be as far from the fire and me as possible without leaving the safety zone.

"Geez, she can be such a bummer for a kid."

Kate remarks as she tunes up her nice acoustic guitar. And that gets my attention.

"Um...Where did you get that from?"

She looks at the guitar.

"Oh, this? I bought it off the Entity."

I look at her funny.

"What?"

"Seems the Entity told up about the mechanics of trials but not the rewards for doing them."

Jake states with a tone that lets me know he's still ticked at me for getting him killed.

"What do you mean 'rewards'?"

Jeff clears his throat to get my attention.

"So the Entity told you about the Bloodweb, right? How that it uses Bloodpoints to get Add-ons and that you gain Bloodpoints during the Trials by performing certain actions."

Dear lord don't tell me it's another long as fuck exposition rant.

"Yeah?"

"Well, aside from Bloodpoints, there are two other forms of currency. Iridescent Shards and Auric Cells. Iridescent Shards can be used to bribe the Entity into gifting you a copy of someone else's perk but that's super expensive. Typically like 2,000 or 2,700 shards. Depends on the Entity's mood. Auric Cells are super rare and are a pain in the ass to collect, but they're worth it. With enough Auric Cells, the Entity will make things a lot more entertaining by letting us get new clothes and items that make living here just a bit more bearable. You get both these things in varying amounts as rewards for how well you did in Trials and you might not even know you have any if no one tells you about it, but you can check how much you have when you go into the Bloodweb."

I just stare at him and soak this in.

"And the cool part is, once you get these things, you can have them permanently. No need to re-get something if you've decided to change. Just think about it and pesto. New duds and stuff."

My brain is starting to fail at taking this information.

"You alright there, Luv?"

"Just...I can't seem to understand the logic of the Entity."

"Don't bother trying..."

Dwight chirps.

"We've been here for what feels like ages and we still have no clue when it comes to that thing."

"I just think it's a little weird. The Entity wants us to die so it can feed off of our souls. It wants us to be afraid of it and die. That's how it gets the best taste out of us. Yet it gives us a place to relax? Then grants us items of comfort? Granted, this is probably to make us last long as a source of food as the useless are sent to the Void. But still...If it can already pull people from different points in time and across other timelines, then why not amass a large city's worth of humans to compensate for any that break easily and not cater to the needs of said humans?"

I like to think this is a well thought out point. I mean, I don't understand beings of alternate realities nor do I claim to. But when I'm hungry, I don't go out to a restaurant and get only some water. Sure, drink enough water and eventually, you'll get full. Yet it's nothing compared to an all you can eat buffet. So why is it content with the few random stragglers that wander in? It doesn't make sense to me.

"It doesn't waste..."

Tapp mutters before hammering his fist into his palm.

"It doesn't waste us. It may feed on us slowly over time. But it will feed until there's nothing left. Like sucking the very last drops of juice out of the box."

"So then the longer we last and keep our hope up..."

Quentin needed to interject for some reason.

"The longer it can continue to feed on a smaller number of victims without too much effort or attention. Like a small-time crook getting away with petty crimes because of a larger more noticeable syndicate has the cops focus."

Could he not refer to his law enforcement career? We get it. You were a cop. That shit doesn't matter here, Tapp!

"You know, for a group of people that don't try to understand the Entity, you understand it more than you think when someone questions things."

Again, I like to think I make good points. And their expressions only further this thought.

"We can increase insights by exposing ourselves to lots of different ideas that might help us form new connections."

All eyes look at Nea who randomly spouted that rather insightful quote.

"What? I know shit too. Douche turds think I can't be smart or something?"

I would crack some remark if I gave a shit. Frankly, I'm sick of letting that bitch piss me off so easily. I should take the advice David and even myself gave earlier, ignore her. Ignore everything that ticks me off. I can't become a killer if I don't let things get to me.

"So..."

Claudette moves over to me.

"I know you told us how your perk works. But do you know if it's only applicable in trials?"

I merely tilt my head in confusion.

"Beg your pardon?"

"She means can you go nuts in camp."

Jake spits and I just shrug.

"No clue. As chatty as the Entity was, it didn't tell me that."

"Figures as much."

"Still, you can never be too safe. Best not get on my bad side."

Probably not the best thing to remotely joke about. Though David tries to play this tension off by yanking me into a headlock and nuggying me till I'm surly growling.

"Awww...Such a big bad killer you are. So threatenin' with that cute face."

"*snarls* Will you quit fucking with my hair?!"

"Oh? And what'cha gonna do about it, Luv?"

I bite his forearm yet he merely laughs. This leads into some mildly aggressive horseplay on both our parts. Despite the oddity that this interaction is it does serve to show that while I am now a threat, that it doesn't mean I'm not human. I'm still me. A nutty weirdo goon that got stuck here just like they did. They can die and so can I. We are all prey. My power in the grand scheme of things changes nothing.

Still, something feels uneasy. While things return to normal and the occasional chat, I get this odd sense of being watched. Well, a different one from the feeling of the eyes of the other survivors. No, this one feeling is off. Predatory. A feeling I once felt long before I had my trial. There's a monster in the woods. The question remains of who it is and why is it skulking around? Is it Legion? Did he come to see me squirm? Or is this someone else? Someone I haven't met yet? I have so many questions!

[Elsewhere: Survivor Campsite Woods]

He watched from his spot as he had done so for quite some time since that fateful meeting. He wasn't going to miss any chance to prove the others wrong. To show that he was worthy. And he was going to use the new meat to do so. His patience paid off this time, as the human was once more up and about after many hunting cycles of just lying still like a corpse. Luck was even further on his side as he intently listened in on their ramblings and learned that the others weren't that far off in their theories on her strange power. This human, if provoked enough, will become a killer just like him. The thought of seeing such a sight made him excited. Such a moment needed to be preserved for posterity. With some careful hand placement, he makes a bold move and readies the shot that will mark his road to respect.

*CLICK*

The small camera's flash was obscured but there was nothing to stop the shutter sound. A few of the humans picked up on it and dismissed it for normal odd noise. Though the new meat is less swayed to ignore the sound. Her eyes search for any hint of something different lurking in the foggy shadows.

lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...lub-dub...

He could hear his heartbeat. Strange, as he didn't think he had a heart to begin with. One of the other humans pulls her attention from investigating further and a sudden thrill has him. He's never been caught before yet his stealth nearly failed him here. This was exciting. Turning the camera around, he looked at the image capture and smirked to himself. Yes...Things were going to be fun for Ghost Face.

[kellanved-ammanas]

Space Mercenaries AU: Meet the Crew

This is my 100th fic on Ao3 (I have no idea what number it is on tumblr though because I don’t remember exactly when I started uploading my fics to tumblr) and it’s my first official foray into writing my own AU, something I’ve wanted to do for a long while now. As I’m sure you can guess by the title, it’s basically a space pirate AU except they’re mercenaries instead of pirates. It’s really just a basic introduction to the setting.

The spaceship was huge, bigger than Scout had thought it’d be. The logo for the company that owned it, RED, was on the side big enough to be seen from a distance. According to Miss Pauling – the lovely lady who was now Scout’s immediate superior – the rumors floating around that it originated from Earth were true. Having lived his whole life on a colony far-far away from Earth meant Scout had never met anyone from there. Making this new job even more exciting then it had been already.

Pauling had told him to just hop on board, store his belongings in his new room and then introduce himself to everyone. Easy-peasy except for the fact that he didn’t know how to board it. All his experience with spaceships had been the small pilotable kind – he was the best pilot on this planet and everyone knew it, it’s why he’d been hired.

Hiding his nervousness with practiced ease, he strode right up to it, ignoring everyone else milling around the dock pretending not to look at the biggest spaceship to ever grace this out of the way planet. Luckily the entrance wasn’t hard to find, a ramp led right up to it so he only embarrassed himself a little bit when he started circling the ship before quickly finding it. He held his ID up to the scanner next to it as he’d been instructed to do. Hopefully he was doing this right. It beeped after a few seconds and the doors opened with a nice slick sound straight out of a science fiction movie.

“Cool,” he said under he breath as he slid his ID back in his pocket.

This was really happening though, he was officially a hired mercenary. He could finally leave home and be independent, sort of anyway, there’d still be his team and his employers but they weren’t his mom or his brothers. Maybe he’d even find his dad one day. … Not likely, the universe was far too big for that to have any more than a snowball’s chance in hell of happening, but a nice thought nonetheless. If Scout did find him though he didn’t know what he’d do, hug him or punch him for leaving – perhaps both – so it was probably for the best anyway.

He took a deep breath, adjusting the weight of the bag on his shoulder – filled with all his worldly belongings, there weren’t many of them – as he stepped in. Hopefully he didn’t look as much like a wide-eyed recruit as he felt. He needed to be cool and suave, like this wasn’t his first time being hired on as a proper mercenary.

Inside was cool and filled with the soft hum of machines that seemed to come from everywhere. He was in a hallway that led to an entrance hall? It was a spacy room with lots of passages leading off it.

“Hey fresh meat!” The shout was loud enough to echo, filling the room and making Scout flinch and jump back.

The shouter, who was a black man wearing an eyepatch apparently thought that was hilarious. He was laughing it up as he exited out of one the hallways, walking with a slight sway as if he were slightly intoxicated. The brown bottle in his hand supported that hypothesis. “Sorry mate,” didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his chuckles dying off as he reached Scout. “You can call me ‘Demo’ or ‘Demoman’, I blow shit up.” He held out his hand, offering to shake.

Scout frowned at him, unsure if he should be offended about being laughed at. He was a bit jumpy sometimes, it wasn’t his fault and it certainly wasn’t funny. He wasn’t going to start off his new job with being upset with his teammates if he could help it though so he shook Demo’s hand.

“I’m Scout,” he said, puffing out his chest. He liked that he was allowed to use a nickname here, it separated this even further from his old life. And according to Miss Pauling everyone else was doing it too so it was only natural. “I fly ships and run really fast and kill people.” He’d never killed anyone before but that was what he was being hired to do, right? Part of it anyway. So he better pretend it was no big deal. “I’m the best at it.”

“You talk real tough small fry, I like it,” Demo said. Good, Scout had already impressed him. … The ‘small fry’ comment wasn’t great though, but he’d take what he could get right now. “Want me to show you around, introduce you to everyone?”

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve been aboard ships like this before, I can find my way around no problem.”

“Whatever you say mate, if you change your mind though I’ll be in the kitchen.” He took a chug from his bottle before starting to head for one of the hallways. “See you around.”

“Yep, see you around pal,” Scout returned with confidence.

So far, so good. His first meeting with one of his teammates had gone well, seven more to go. First, he had to find his room though to drop his stuff off. It couldn’t be that hard to navigate this place, could it?

 -

Scout was lost. He didn’t want to admit it but he was. Everything looked the same and the ship seemed to take full advantage of its massive size to cram as many corridors and rooms into itself as physically possible. There were a ton of locked rooms, presumably leading to important places he didn’t have the clearance to access yet, they cut off his options for places to go but the dead ends were frustrating.

There were signposts, pointing this way and that way but… none of them pointed towards the sleeping quarters. There were several that pointed to the kitchen but Scout couldn’t go there and ask Demo for that tour after all. That would be both admitting defeat and that he’d lied about being able to find his way around on his own, both were unacceptable.

He’d brute force his way through this. If he just kept going he’d find it eventually. … It’d be nice to have a map though, even if he wasn’t good at reading them it’d help a little probably.

He turned a corner and almost ran into somebody. A very odd somebody who wore a full body suit and mask, making it impossible to see his face. The empty gaze of his mask was… vaguely intimidating, making Scout take a step back before he could stop himself.

The fellow waved, wriggling his fingers. He then made gestures with his hands; sign language. Scout had seen it enough times to recognize it but he’d never learned it himself, it hadn’t ever occurred to him that he might need it one day.

“Uh… I don’t understand,” he said. Was the guy deaf? Could he understand Scout? Was it rude to ask? Would they have to communicate via writing? That would be fine but for the fact Scout’s dyslexia made it hard to read and write properly most of the time, he didn’t want to reveal that to people he’d just met and needed to impress, they’d think he was an idiot.

The guy seemed to sigh without actually sighing? His shoulders slumped as he hung his head, giving it a light shake. That meant he could understand Scout though, right? He was reacting to what had been said.

“I’m Scout, I’m the new guy.” Ugh, why’d he have to state the obvious? “Uh… do you think you could show me the way the sleeping quarters or whatever?” This guy didn’t know Scout had claimed he’d be fine on his own here so asking for help from him was fine, right? Then again, asking a mysterious masked figure for directions might not be a wise move. He was part of the crew though, right? So, it’d be fine… probably. If not, Scout had a gun and he knew how to use it, he could defend himself.

The fellow nodded, giving him a thumbs up. He then gestured for Scout to follow him and started skipping down the way he’d come. With no better options present, Scout followed.

Turns out they were two turns away from the sleeping quarters. See? Scout would’ve totally found it on his own, he hadn’t needed to ask this guy for directions and thus it didn’t count that he had.

Only one of the rooms was open at the end of the hall, the ninth one according to Scout’s count. The masked fellow led Scout right too it and tapped the wall by it. He then pointed out Scout and then gave him a thumbs up.

“Thanks,” Scout said. “But uh… there’s only eight other people?” He’d asked and been told that he was the final member of the team and thus he’d expected more people. Maybe there was another hallway?

But the masked guy nodded, giving Scout another thumbs up, indicating that that was correct. There were only nine people on this team. On the bright side that meant meeting them all wouldn’t take too long. First he had to settle into his new room though.

“Thanks uh… see you around buddy,” he told the masked dude – he’d have to get his name from one of the other crew members later – earning another thumbs up before stepping into the room. He pressed the button on the wall to close the door behind him.

It was a fairly small room but there was a bed, desk, and closet. There was more storage space under the bed too. It was his very own room, he didn’t have to share it with anyone. And his mom wouldn’t be around to yell at him about cleaning it every time even a tiny mess started to form. He was free and independent, life was great.

 -

Scout took his time arranging all his stuff. There wasn’t much so it didn’t take long. It was exciting though, having a room all to himself. He didn’t have worry about people walking in on him when he was changing or doing private things. Or about people messing with his stuff, he could lock the door when he wasn’t in here and no one else could get in.

He almost didn’t want to leave but… he needed – and wanted – to meet the rest of the crew. Solitude for too long would undoubtedly drive him crazy, already he was craving someone to talk to about how awesome this all was. So it wasn’t long before he was stepping out into the hallway again.

There was of course still the problem that he didn’t know where he was going and would probably get lost. But it was a spaceship meant for living and mercenary work, not a maze, so he could figure out its layout… eventually. For now, he could just walk until he ran into someone else, hopefully someone who could better communicate with him and had a face.

As if the thought had summoned him, someone came around the corner as Scout started heading towards it. He wore goggles and a hardhat. “Howdy partner,” he said with a friendly wave. “Pyro told me we had a new guy, so I figured I’d come say ‘hi’ since I’m having a coffee break anyway. You can call me ‘Engie’ or ‘Engineer’, whichever you prefer.”

“Uh… howdy partner?” Scout had never heard a greeting like that before. “I’m Scout. Who’s Pyro? The guy with the mask?”

“Yep, he likes fire so we call him ‘Pyro’. He either don’t like talking or can’t so he speaks in sign instead. Don’t worry though he can hear just fine so you can talk to him normal like.”

“Does he wear the mask and suit thing all the time?” Probably not, right? That would be silly.

“Far as I know yeah. I assume he takes it off to eat and bathe but that’s about it. You can ask him why but he won’t answer and might get upset if you do.”

“All right.” That was weird but… Scout didn’t sign on here expecting everything to be normal and predictable. He was here for excitement and adventure, weird team mates with bizarre habits wasn’t too far out of the realm of expectation. And it was something he could easily live with. “Can you uh… lead me to the kitchen please? Since you’re headed there for coffee anyway.” He could use a snack and if Demo was still there he might take him up on the tour offer after all because he’d undoubtedly get lost again if he didn’t. His excuse could be that he didn’t know where the rest of the team were supposed to be.

“Sure can,” Engie replied. “Follow me.”

Unable to keep quiet while in such a cool place, Scout chatted about it as they walked. In the back of his mind he kept track of where they turned so he could potentially find his way back or make this journey again on his own. His sense of direction was a bit thrown off by how similar the walls all were but now that he was actively trying to remember the way he should have a better time with it.

The kitchen turned out to be nearby, not even a five minute walk. It was big and high tech, Scout wasn’t sure what half the things in here were. It was empty though, Demo wasn’t here. But luckily the fridge was easy to identify and thus Scout didn’t have to embarrass himself by asking.

Inside was various stuff, mostly veggies and fruits, a lot of which he’d never seen before. There was what could only be beer at the bottom in bottles identical to the one Demo had been holding. Water bottles were on the shelf above. There was no soda though, bummer.

“You want coffee boy?” Engie asked. He was off to the side messing with the coffee pot, it was clearly fancy and high tech. Or… high tech compared to what Scout was used to it, it was possible his experience with such things was outdated and this was now the standard.

“No thanks.” Scout couldn’t stand coffee unless it was loaded up with sweeteners and cream, even then though he’d prefer not to drink it. Since he also didn’t want to drink beer – the last thing he wanted to do was get drunk on his first day and embarrass himself in front of his new coworkers – that left him no choice but to drink water. Lame but he probably needed to drink more water anyway.

So after some thought he decided on an apple and a bottle of water. He could experiment with the alien fruits later – not the veggies though, fuck vegetables – and search the cupboards for junk food. For now though he’d play it safe and simple.

“Come out to the dining room,” Engie said, holding his cup of coffee. “There’s bound to be more of the team there for you to meet.”

“Okay.” Scout followed him out of the kitchen through a different door than they’d entered through.

It led straight to the dining room. It was big with a large table in the middle which four people sat at playing cards. Two of them Scout had already met, Demo and Pyro. The other two were a big guy who looked like he could snap Scout in half with his bare hands and a skinny guy in a fancy suit and ski mask. All four looked up as Scout and Engie entered.

“Hey,” Demo greeted with a smile and a handwave. He was drinking still. Pyro waved too, wriggling his fingers.

“Hi again,” Scout said, unable to take his eyes off suit and mask guy. He didn’t want to be rude and stare but… the guy was staring at him, frozen. What his expression might be under the mask was hard to say but his gaze was intense enough to make Scout very uncomfortable. Was he planning on murder or something? “I’m Scout,” he said with a forced smile to the other two, not letting his discomfort show. “Nice to meet you.”

“Heavy,” the big guy said. “Is nice to meet you too.”

Suit and mask guy huffed as he seemed to break out of whatever had frozen him in place, finally pulling his intense stare off of Scout. “I have places to be,” he said, his tone very prim and proper as he placed his cards down on the table and stood up. He then turned around and left, no greeting or anything. Rude.

“That’s Spy,” Engie said. “He… ain’t normally like that.”

“Eh, who knows what’s up with him, he’s a weirdo,” Demo said with a shrug before taking a drink from his bottle. “Come join us, we was in the middle of a game.”

They sat at the table, Engie taking over Spy’s cards. What had Scout done to make Spy already dislike him? Had it been the way he’d said ‘hi’? Maybe the way he was dressed? Something else? Could he fix it? … Probably not, once people started disliking him, that feeling only ever grew.

“You play poker?” Heavy asked, clearly the dealer for this game.

“Uh… sometimes.” Scout wasn’t good at it but did know how to play.

“Good, you join next round. Is good way to get to know each other.”

“Okay.” It’s not like Scout had anything better to do.

“You got lost after all though, huh?” Demo said, chuckling and raising and eyebrow at Scout.

“No, of course not,” Scout lied with a scoff as if that were ridiculous.

Pyro tapped the table and signed something that made Demo laugh. Were they… making fun of Scout? It wasn’t a mocking kind of laugh though but like he was tipsy and giggling because of it.

“You don’t have to lie,” Engie said. “We all got lost when we were new too, you’ll be able to find your way around in no time.”

“Yeah and you’ll get fucking sick of it in no time too,” Demo added. “This ship actually ain’t so big once you been living in it for a while. It’ll drive you mad.”

“Is not so bad,” Heavy cut in. “And once we reach destination we’ll be let off sometimes.”

“What is our destination by the way?” That hadn’t been in any of the advertisements for the job and he’d been too excited about the whole thing to ask during interview or screening process.

“Some solar system somewhere that our boss what’s us to take control of,” Demo said. “Apparently his brother or something also wants it so we’re going to be fighting his hired mercenaries for it, it’s some weird family feud thing.”

“There’s more to it than that but that about sums it up,” Engie said. Scout didn’t care about the details anyway as long as he got paid and got to go on an adventure in the far off reaches of space.

 -

“Ah fuck it, I quit.” Demo threw down his cards in frustration after Engie won for the umpteenth time in a row. “Come on Scouty boy, I’ll show you around and introduce you to the others.” His words were slurred and he was unsteady on his feet as he stood.

“Uh… you sure you’re up for that?” Scout asked. The last thing he wanted was for Demo to pass out and Scout to have to carry him when he wasn’t sure where he was going.

“Yes, now you coming or not laddie?”

“Go with him,” Engie said, also standing. “He’ll be fine but don’t take anything mean he says to heart, he doesn’t mean it. I’d go with you but I need to get back to work, see y’all later.” He gave them a wave before leaving through a side door.

“Yes, I also have work to get back too,” Heavy said as he gathered up the cards, stacking them into a nice, neat pile.

Pyro signed something to Demo who replied with “Yeah, you can come too.” Which got a clap from Pyro

With no other options readily available to him, Scout followed the two of them out. It was better than getting lost again. And well, so far he liked his new team mates, except for Spy because Spy didn’t like him. Hopefully whatever reason Spy had for disliking him wouldn’t get in the way of any teamwork that might be required of them in the future.

 -

“Soldier’s loud and shouty sometimes but he’s a super cool guy once you get to know him,” Demo spoke in a low tone to Scout after halting outside the door labeled ‘REC ROOM’. “And don’t be offended when he calls you ‘maggot’, he means it in the kindest way possible.”

“How can calling someone ‘maggot’ be meant in kind way?” Scout asked but was ignored as Demo turned away to open the door, letting three of them in.

It was an exercise room, full of exercise stuff. Scout was not interested unless there was a track he could run around on in another room or maybe a swimming pool. Off to the side was a guy, presumably Solider, doing one armed pushups. He was counting them out loud too.

“Fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five.” He swapped to using his other arm.

“Hey Solider,” Demo called. “The new guy finally came, come meet him.”

Solider paused before snapping up to his feet and coming over to investigate. He looked Scout up and down as if measuring his worth.

“Hey,” Scout said, trying not to shift uncomfortably under his gaze. “You can call me ‘Scout’, I’m…”

“I’ll call you whatever I like maggot,” Solider interrupted.

“Don’t listen to him,” Demo said before Scout could object to the insult. “Solly, this is Scout, he’s the new guy, be nice.”

“Fine,” Solider said as if he were granting a favor. “Nice to meet you maggot, I’m sure you’ll make and excellent addition to the team.” He shook Scout’s hand, almost crushing it in a way too tight grip.

“Nice to meet you too.” Scout bore it with a grin, not even flinching a little bit. The way Solider nodded upon letting go implied he approved of that. Good, the more people Scout could get on the good side of early, the better. He even managed to resist the urge to clutch his aching hand to his chest afterward.

“You know where Sniper is?” Demo asked. “I’m going around introducing him to everyone and showing him around and all that. Pyro’s helping.” He gestured to Pyro before taking a drink from his bottle. Pyro wriggled in his fingers in greeting towards Solider.

Soldier thought about it for a few seconds, Scout could practically see the gears turning in his head as if it were a difficult question. “No, I do not know where Sniper is,” he said finally, looking back up.

“All right, we’ll find him eventually.”

Solider saluted. Demo returned it half-assed while Pyro returned it fully. Not knowing what else to do Scout followed their lead, getting another nod of approval from Solider. Weird but whatever.

Unexpectedly, Solider joined their tour party when they moved on. He took up the rear. His rigid stance implied he was on the look out for possible trouble as if they were on traversing through a dangerous area instead of their own ship base. Odd but not worth questioning, it was clear Solider was an odd fellow anyway.

 -

Turns out there as a pool room but no track room. They were expected to get their running exercise on the treadmills, lame. Scout would rather jog around the ship’s halls even if that meant getting lost sometimes.

The next important place Demo led Scout – and company – to was the captain’s deck. It was where all the computers that ran the ship were located. They were far more complicated and high-tech than anything Scout had seen before. He wanted to touch them and mess around with them, see if he could figure out how to maneuver this thing but… alas, that would probably end with him getting fired. Maybe one day though… hopefully anyway.

After that Demo brought them to his work station where he made bombs and other things that exploded. And then Engie’s lab where Engie was currently working on something that Scout couldn’t even begin to guess the function of due to how its part were all laid out on the work table.

“Howdy,” he said, preoccupied and not even looking up from his work. “I’m a bit busy right now so I’m going to have to ask you leave.”

“Righty-ho, see you around,” Demo said before moving the party on.

They finally found this Sniper guy in the shooting range. He was kind of hot, tall and rugged looking with a cool hat. Would Scout get in trouble for flirting with a coworker? Maybe so it was best he didn’t, for now anyway.

“Hey Sniper, the final member of our team is here, come say ‘hi’,” Demo said.

Sniper lowered his gun and turned his head towards them. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Scout returned with a cocky grin. “I’m Scout, ace pilot and fastest runner in the galaxy.”

“I’m sure you are,” Sniper said dryly before turning back to his target practice.

“And that’s that,” Demo said with a chuckle, clapping his hands together. He leaned over to speak in Scout’s ear. “He’s one of them loner types, don’t like people much. But he’s cool… I think, haven’t really known him that long.”

“I can still hear you,” Sniper said, not looking away from his target practice.

“Whatever.” Demo shrugged. “Let’s go laddie, I think all that’s left to show you is the med-bay and introduce you to Medic.” He gestured for Scout follow him. A bit disappointed, Scout did so, hopefully he could talk to Sniper more later and hopefully get a chance to impress him.

“Be sure to make the target dummies pay dearly for their crimes,” Soldier said as he exited the room last behind Pyro. If Sniper responded in some way, it wasn’t loud enough for Scout to hear.

 -

Everything about the med-bay from the moment they stepped in screamed

‘hospital’ and thus Scout instantly disliked it. Hospitals and doctors were the worst. It even smelled like a hospital, that unique unplaceable smell that brought to mind nothing but needles and freezing stethoscopes.

What was even worse though was the crazed look in the doctor’s eyes when he came out to greet them. “Ooh, a new patient, wonderful,” he said, sounding as if he were talking about a new toy he was excited to play with.

“Hello,” Scout said, pretending to not be afraid. The last thing he wanted was everyone to make fun of him for being scared of something as dumb as doctors and hospitals. Glancing back, he saw that Solider had mysteriously vanished from the party, maybe he didn’t like hospitals either. “I’m Scout.”

“’Medic’ or ‘Doctor’ is fine. Now you two shoo.” He made a shooing gesture with his hand towards Demo and Pyro. “It’s time I give Scout his physical.”

“Good luck lad.” Demo clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t die.” Pyro signed something at him before they both left, leaving Scout alone with Medic. He was tempted to protest that but it was too late and he didn’t want show fear. So instead, he followed Medic as he gestured him deeper in.

 -

The physical was fairly standard fair. Medic took his blood pressure, checked his breathing and heartrate, all that ‘fun’ stuff. When the needle came out though was when Scout’s nerves broke.

“Nope, not happening,” he said, sliding off the examination table. “We are done here.” He started for the door.

Medic grabbed his upper arm, yanking him back. “You can either cooperate or I’ll have to force you.” He sounded like he meant it.

Scout jerked against his hold but he was stronger than he looked; Scout wouldn’t be getting away from him anytime soon. “Fine, fine, I’ll cooperate.” He’d much rather do that than test to see if and how Medic would force him to. “Just make it fast please.”

“Good.” Medic pulled him back the examination table, not taking any chances unfortunately.

Thankfully it was over fast, though still far too long for Scout’s liking. He was careful not to look at it. “Can I go now please?” he asked once Medic was done putting a little bandage on his arm.

“Yes, you may go for now.” Medic made a dismissive hand gesture. “There are more things I’ll need to do with you later though.”

Scout did not like that sound of that. “Like what?”

“If I told you, you’d be very upset so I won’t. You’ll be fine though I promise… probably. Death is always a possibility, so is infection, but it’s unlikely, kind of. Run along for now though, I need some time to analyze your blood sample.”

Scout groaned and retreated. He was not looking forward to whatever Medic had planned for him later but at least he was done now and could leave the horrid med-bay.

He went to his back to his room and only got a little lost on the way there. See? His sense of direction in this place was improving already.

He gratefully collapsed onto his bed with a sigh. He’d met everyone and seen everything, he could rest for a bit. For the most part he was pleased, Medic was scary and so was Pyro in a different way but less so, and Spy didn’t like him for some reason. Everyone else seemed cool and nice though even if a lot of them were a bit strange. But that would only make this adventure more fun though, right?

They’d be going off to a far off distant solar system – it might not actually be distant, he didn’t know – to fight over it and hopefully take it over. It was going to be fun.

Next

[musicprincess655]

Hey guys! Magic AU is back, this time with more MiyuSawa! Here’s the playlist!

Kazuya hadn’t really expected to be lonely in the time Sawamura was gone. He didn’t have a problem with being alone, and besides, he’d had Masuko with him for all but the last few days.

It had been nice, if a little bit quiet, especially the days after Masuko moved out. Once Kazuya had moved all his stuff out of Sawamura’s room and into the one Masuko had vacated, he didn’t have anything to do to occupy his time, and after a while, that started to get boring. Living with Kuramochi may have had a lot of drawbacks, but it had always been lively. Kazuya hadn’t had so much time alone with his own thoughts in a while.

Still, it hadn’t been bad. Masuko had been a decent roommate, even if he didn’t talk much. He hadn’t even asked Kazuya to help him move all his furniture out, instead recruiting Tetsu and Jun to do the heavy lifting.

It looked like Kazuya was going to be able to avoid both furniture moves this week, because Kuramochi could be easily roped into doing things with the promise of free food. Kazuya sat on the counter, watching the Sawamuras and Kuramochi try to wrestle a couch through their door.

“You know, you could help,” Kuramochi complained at him, huffing with the effort of trying to wiggle the couch through the small opening.

“I could,” Kazuya agreed, making no move to go help. “You look like you have it handled, though.”

He was spared Kuramochi’s angry reaction for a moment when the couch finally slipped free, letting the three men hustle it through to the living room and put it down. Then Kuramochi’s angry face was looking around to the kitchen.

“I don’t even live here,” he snapped. “Why am I the one that has to help the idiot move back in?”

“Because Sawamura offered us both pizza to help him move stuff around, and you were the only one who took him up on the offer,” Kazuya said easily. Kuramochi narrowed his eyes.

“Miyuki Kazuya!” Kazuya shifted his eyes to see Sawamura standing with his hands on his hips and his eyes narrowed like a cat’s. “If you don’t help you don’t get pizza!”

Kazuya cackled at the serious look on his face. It was probably an empty threat, knowing Sawamura. And even if it wasn’t, Kazuya was the one in the house that could cook. It wasn’t like he was going to starve.

Kuramochi rolled his eyes, turning to go flop on the newly installed couch. Sawamura stayed where he was, still giving Kazuya the stink eye.

“You must be Miyuki-kun,” a voice interrupted their stare off. Sawamura’s father inclined his head to Kazuya. “It’s nice to meet the person my son will be living with.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kazuya said, inclining his head back. He probably should have hopped off the counter for this, but it felt awkward to do it now.

Sawamura didn’t look much like his father apart from the eyes, but there was something about their attitudes that made it obvious they were related. They both carried themselves in a way that dared the world to challenge them.

The doorbell rang before they could continue the conversation, and Sawamura ran for the door before doubling back to grab his wallet. Kazuya snickered, an amused smile spreading across Sawamura’s father’s face at his son’s antics.

“What are you studying, Miyuki-kun?” Sawamura’s father asked. Kazuya should have expected the standard questions that came from meeting his friends’ parents – not including that time he’d met Kuramochi’s mom. Every question he’d ever had about Kuramochi had been answered just by meeting his mother.

“Practical magic,” Kazuya said.

“Just like Eijun,” Sawamura’s father said, looking pleased. “It’s good that he has a senpai in the same major.”

“Most people on the battle team are practical magic majors,” Kazuya said. “Sometimes we get the occasional spell theory major or magic history major, but a lot of us want to go into jobs that need a practical magic background.”

“Kuramochi-kun, you said you were practical magic as well,” Sawamura’s father said, angling himself so he could include Kuramochi in the conversation. “What do you do with a degree in practical magic?”

“Honestly, just about anything,” Kuramochi replied. “I’m going into teaching, so I have to do the teacher licensure program alongside the major.”

“What about you, Miyuki-kun?”

“I’d like to go pro in coven battles,” Kazuya said. “I’m still in the middle of university, so it won’t be anytime soon, but I’ve had a few teams express interest.”

“That’s good to hear!” It was almost surprising how proud Sawamura’s father sounded of him. Kazuya usually didn’t get this reaction even from his own father. “I don’t know much about all this magic stuff, but if Eijun can be around people like you two, I’m happy he’s here.”

“What’s everyone talking about?” Sawamura asked, walking back into the room with two pizza boxes.

“You,” Kuramochi told him.

“All bad things,” Kazuya added. Sawamura’s face went from a smile to a frown in the blink of an eye. Before he could start yelling, his father stepped in.

“I’m gonna take off, Eijun,” he said. “I don’t want to make it back too late.”

Sawamura set the pizzas down on the counter to step into his father’s arms for a hug.

“Drive safe,” he said. “Text me when you get in.”

“Will do.”

Kuramochi barely waited until Sawamura’s father was out the door before pouncing on the pizza.

“Meat pizza, thank god,” Kuramochi mumbled around a mouthful. “You’re the best, Sawamura.”

“Let me get some.” Sawamura hip checked Kuramochi out of the way, which usually would’ve earned him a wrestling hold, but Kuramochi was too concerned with double fisting the pizza as he made his way back to the couch.

“Gross,” Kazuya called after him, knowing Kuramochi’s mouth was too full to immediately respond. Kuramochi sent him a glare and swallowed forcefully.

“I haven’t eaten anything else today.”

“Why not?”

“Because Sawamura was buying me pizza.”

“Cheapskate,” Kazuya said, reaching for a slice. Sawamura slapped at his hands.

“People who don’t help don’t get pizza,” he said, huffing through his nose like he thought he said something wise.

“You mean to tell me you and Kuramochi plan on eating a pizza each by yourselves?” Kazuya asked, amused.

“Yep!” Kuramochi called from the couch. Sawamura nodded. There wasn’t any venom behind the motion, though, so Kazuya figured he was fine as long as he waited until Sawamura moved away. He snagged a slice as Sawamura moved to get a drink out of the fridge, ducking his head so he could see in. He stood, head completely above the top.

“Hang on a second.” Kazuya jumped down from the counter, putting his pizza down on the box. “Are you taller than me?”

Sawamura turned around, gold eyes flashing in confusion. They were definitely a few centimeters above Kazuya’s.

“I think so?” Sawamura said with a shrug.

“When did that happen?”

“I don’t know. I was the same height as you when I left, though. I must have hit a growth spurt while I was home.” Sawamura grinned. “I guess the country really is good for people!”

“You were never the same height as me,” Kazuya protested. He distinctly remembered having to look down about an inch to meet Sawamura’s eyes, and throwing an arm over his shoulders had always been easy because Sawamura was the perfect height for it, just slightly shorter than Kazuya.

“Yes he was,” Kuramochi cut in from the couch, sounding exhausted. “You just didn’t notice.”

“I think I would’ve noticed Sawamura being the same height as me,” Kazuya argued.

“And yet, you didn’t,” Kuramochi said. He stood up from the couch with what seemed like no small effort. “I’m out of here. Thanks for the food, Sawamura. Enjoy your height pissing contest, Miyuki.”

“It’s not a pissing contest!” Kazuya snapped.

“Sure, sure.” Kuramochi waved his hand, not even looking up as he pulled his shoes on. “Enjoy the couch. Try not to kill each other.”

“Go have fun with Ryou.”

“I plan to.”

The house settled back into quiet, but it wasn’t the same quiet that had clung to it yesterday. Somehow, Sawamura seemed to cast noise even without making a single sound. His very presence was loud, but it wasn’t really a bad thing. He wasn’t the team’s mood maker for nothing.

“I can’t believe you went and had a growth spurt when I wasn’t looking,” Kazuya said, hopping back onto the counter. “How impertinent.”

“You sound like Onii-san when you talk like that,” Sawamura told him, tearing into another pizza slice. Kazuya went back to the one he’d abandoned. “Does it bother you that I’m taller than you now?”

Kazuya shook his head. It really didn’t. It was just that it forced him to look at Sawamura more closely to see what else he might have missed.

But it wasn’t like Sawamura was somehow a new person. He was still loud and bubbly, probably still just as likely to haul Kazuya up by his collar if provoked. He was just the taller one now.

“I hope you’re ready for a life of coming to the store with me and getting all the things on high shelves,” Kazuya told him.

“You’re plenty tall, you don’t need my help,” Sawamura argued.

“I didn’t say I couldn’t,” Kazuya said. “I said I was gonna make you do it for me. Consider it your punishment for getting ahead of yourself.”

“Miyuki Kazuya!”

“Don’t call me by my first name.”

The eye roll Sawamura gave him didn’t give him any hope that his habit of calling Kazuya by his full name would go away. Sawamura’s face sobered, eyebrows drawing together.

“I hear some bad stuff happened while I was gone,” he said, leaning against the counter next to Kazuya, staring at nothing. Kazuya’s chest clenched.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Looks like we have to fight off an army of the dead.”

“I can’t believe we’re having a real zombie apocalypse.”

“Believe it. If Rei-chan says it’s coming, it’s definitely coming.”

Sawamura sighed, looking a little older – maybe just because he actually looked serious.

“So what do we do?”

“I don’t know yet,” Kazuya admitted. “No one does yet, really. We know what’s coming, but we don’t know when or what we can do to stop it. I think they’re changing our classes a little to help, though.”

“What about the team?” Sawamura asked.

“What about it?”

“Does it still exist? Is it getting cut because there’s an emergency?”

Kazuya shook his head.

“If anything, we’re going to have more practice,” he said. “We’re supposed to be the first line of defense, us and the girls’ team. Coach will have more to say at practice next week, I’m sure.”

“We can do this,” Sawamura said, jaw set. “The team is strong. We can protect everyone. I’m sure of it.”

He looked so determined, calm even through the tension. Kazuya had been impressed by him before, but he hadn’t thought of him as someone to rely on before. Maybe Rei had been right and he was a natural ace after all.

“I’d like to see you do that without any information,” Kazuya teased instead of telling him. “Mr. ‘I just blast them all away’.”

“Oi!” Sawamura complained, turning to rest his hip on the counter so he could glare at Kazuya. “I was still in high school then. I know better now.”

“Yeah, I guess you do,” Kazuya agreed. “Your control could still use work.”

Surprisingly, Sawamura let that go. They settled back into the silence that wasn’t quite as quiet as it was yesterday.

“Do they know why this is happening?” Sawamura asked softly. Kazuya shook his head again.

“We have the note that threatened everyone in school, and we know it’s a fae spell that’s coming for us, but other than that, we don’t have much,” Kazuya said. “I think Rei-chan and Ochiai have a few guesses, but they’ll tell us more soon.”

Sawamura’s eyes burned.

“We can do this.”

Kazuya believed him.

[ravioliravioliravioliravioli]

A mess of a night

Henry, Ellie, and Charles are assigned a new mission. infiltrate the top hat clan masquerade celebration. can they make it through the night without being caught or will they end up as dead meat?

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

this au isn't mine it's owned by @apprepuff

this has my personal head cannons in it sorry if you don't agree with them.

also, this is my first fic I'm sorry if it really sucks.

Also this is on archive of our own if you if it floating around

;~;

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

Henry was going to say it now. he regrets coming. he thought this was going to be fun but it's mostly him talking with Charles at the punch table. Ellie had run off after a few tophats asked for a dance from her. Charles and Henry were starting to get antsier by the second. " how many cupcakes do you think I can eat until I throw up?" Charles spoke up "I don't know maybe like 12? " henry said non-solantly out of the corner of his eye he saw someone walking to the table. he looks at them and froze in shock it was the leader Reginald Copperbottom he had only seen and heard rumors about the mysterious leader. " gets a little warm in these masks huh? " he said as he took his mask off " y-yeah," replied henry still a little shocked. reg looked over to henry his face contorted in a curious stare only making henry more anxious about the situation he got himself into " are you... one of the new recruits? " " y-yep I'm enjoying it here doin'...crimes " ( god henry your gonna blow your cover, you doofus! ) Reginald looked at him a moment longer and turned to grab one of the red plastic cups from the stack in the middle of the table. " well that good to know that you're enjoying yourself, I wouldn't want to disappoint " he replied filling his cup with wine instead of punch like henry.

" well, I'm off ill see you around mister?" " huh! oh umm.... ( come on stickmin think ) smith..? " Reginald stared at him for a few seconds" well have a good night mister ' smith ' " henry let out the biggest sigh of relief in his life and lead on the table as Reginald went back into the bustling crowd of tophats he looked back to where Charles was and only saw a glimpse of him as he was dragged away. now he was alone. he hated being alone. he turned to the crowd and took out his phone to look at the time 9:34 it was almost the prime of the party and when they would go and take the information from the tophats. he might as well find one of his friends. he pushed into the crowd zig-zagging through at what felt like snail's pace. he came to an opening in the crowd where a man with golden blonde hair dancing with what looked like a man bored out of his mind without a mask, who wore a top hat with headphones going through them.

henry turn back into the bustle and ruffle of the crowd mumbling under his breath "where are you guys... " henry pause and saw Ellie in a conga-line all the way on the other side of the room. he let out a defeated sigh and started his march to her he made it about halfway across the room before he bumped into someone and fell over letting out a little " Gah! " as he fell " oh! are you okay? " he froze looking up. IT WAS HIM AGAIN! Reginald held out his hand out to him. henry reluctantly took his hand " hello again mister 'smith' " Reginald delayed his 'name' " hi... " he awkwardly replied "I didn't expect you to be on the dance floor " "oh I'm not here to dance I'm just looking for someone! " " someone to dance with! " Reginald pulled henry to an open place on the dance floor grabbing both his hands and started to dance with him.

he started speaking in a menacing tone "I know you're not a tophat " " h-huh! " that was quick right to the point I guess. " then why don't you kill me or something? " " you got in without anyone knowing taking at vantage of our masquerade- " " uh-" " I'm not done yet, you can be useful to us and I heard you were looking for someone? a friend maybe? "

 

"would you like to be apart of our clan? "

[deactivated4179291]

The Cure - Part 1 (H.S AU)- “The Cure”

This is an AU story, so if things show up that wouldn’t have existed before the world ended…it’s my story so plz don’t come for me

 A/N - trigger warning - mentions of wanting death, etc

Maverie’s POV

The world, though it still turned, had deteriorated to dust, ash, and what remained of structure from buildings after mass destruction. Warm faces that once held bright eyes and wide smiles have long lost their flesh tone, and have grown pale with death, as they reanimate to roam the streets for fresh meat. Their ears perk at any sounds, and their hungry stare draws to anything that moves. And I was so close to being one of them…

But me? I was born into this world. Specifically, I was born the day this became our world – May 15, 1998, right here in the city of San Fransisco, California. This cold cruel and incredible disastrous chaotic world. This world was my version of 'normal.' According to those who were around before the 'new era' as they called it - this world was nothing like what I know it as. People who are now deceitful, violent, and most of all deadly, could have been some of the nicest people you'd ever meet 19 years ago. Death changes people. The world changes people. But most of all, people change people.

Shooting the dead that roam and hunting what was still alive was all I'd ever known. For nineteen years I'd hunted and gathered like nobody's business. For nineteen years I'd lived and loved - I'd loved the family I was taken into, as if they were my own. The only problem was that a life that should have ended about three weeks ago...never did. I still remember it likes it was yesterday, though. The pain of my flesh being torn by enamel, the way the dead recoiled in agony at the taste of me, drawing all the others away like some sort of warning call as the herd backed off seeking its next victim. I remember the blood dripping from my arm, as I clutched my wound tightly and stared at the sight before me- and the panic as my family grew frantic - trying to figure out what to do. Whether they should put me down or hold onto me in the pointless hope that maybe I'd be okay. However, their fate was sealed in tragedy that day, as I lost each and every one of them in their attempt to escape the dusty old supermarket in which the herd had cornered us.

I was completely and utterly lost without them. Their hope wasn't pointless, though, because by some miracle I'm still here. They strapped me down to a chair in the small house we’d taken temporary shelter in, and we waited. 12 hours, two days, four days, yet the fever never came, as I camped out in the abandoned furniture store inside the mall, tonight, still longing to be with my family. I couldn’t understand why I was alive, and they were gone. My head could never fully wrap around the concept of me being…immune?

Whilst I sit outstretched on a white suede couch way too spotless to still exist, I stare at my grimy, dust-clouded sneakers. I’d like to feel clean, and rinse them off in the bathroom, but there’s no point – the water here probably doesn’t even work, and they’d just be getting clean to be covered in filth once more. I thought of all the possibilities as I stare at the once bloody, messy of a bite mark on my arm that now had completely healed skin that was covered in not only scar tissue, but small bubbles of skin that had formed as it began to reach its nearly full recovery. Feeling a sudden chill as the tips of my fingers glided over the abnormality, I slipped on the one source of warmth I had obtained from a store in the mall – my black zip-up hoodie. It came from somewhere that used to be called Macy’s? I think? Most of the store sign was missing, leaving only ‘Mac ‘s.’

Just as I am running through my thoughts, the loud echo of a gunshot rings throughout the mall walk. People, I thought. I grabbed my 9mm gun in my hand, and entered the main mall cautiously, sweeping across the old tiled floors, as I search intently yet cautiously for the source of the noise. The soles of my boots nearly squeaking against the surface of the floor as a shuffle aimlessly through the building. Just as I turn right at the corner of the main aisle, and head down the adjoining hall, voice booms from behind me.

“Stop right there!” the man’s gruff voice boomed throughout the empty space and bounced off of each and every wall. If any walker had somehow wandered in here, by sure they would be making their way towards us. “if you can understand me, place your hands behind your head and turn around slowly!” he orders. I do as I am instructed- placing my gun-grasping hand behind my skull, along with my empty hand, before twisting around to face the voice that commands me. He is of average height for a man, and he along with all of his men, are decked out from head to toe in white uniforms with parts that stick out resembling body armor on their chests, knees, and elbows, like futuristic soldiers. The one in the middle – clearly their leader had silver hair which told me that he has been around since before this time. He saw it happen – he saw the world end, but…These were the kinds of people who came from a community, this could be my chance, I told myself.

“Place your weapons on the ground!” his voice calls out to me, forcefully. I internally roll my eyes, knowing I should have seen that coming. I bend over and place the 9mm on the tile floor, sliding it toward them by kicking it gently with my foot. The gesture seems to surprise the soldiers as they eye each other cautiously – their seemingly fearless leader included. Seeing as I am being cooperative he seems to lessen the harsh tone in his words. He cleared his throat, in an attempt to riddle the air of uncertainty as he turned from staring at one of his men to staring at me as I found my voice, once trapped somewhere deep inside me, and let it fly, though small and somewhat strangled.

“Do you guys have a community?” I dared to ask them hopefully. Surely this was just their protocol for new recruits…right? They all sent me small subtle smiles, before the man in charge turned to his nearest soldier, “check her for bites, please,” he asked. I gulped, realizing that they would see my healed wound – what if they didn’t believe me? What if they call my bluff, and put me down, the way my family couldn’t? The way I couldn’t put them to rest…

Captain Bossy Pants’ second in command marched toward me, his weapon swaying at his side with each of his fluid steps. He tucks his gun into his belt and reaches forward to unzip my hoodie with a sympathetic smile. I didn’t argue, nor put up a fight, because who was I to confront 5 guns that were still pointed in my direction? He’s just lucky I was wearing a tank top under the cotton garment he slid from my torso. I did appreciate his polite demeanor – as he clearly didn’t want to scare me. Little did he know on the inside I was quaking with fear produced by a group of ‘what-ifs.’ My faith shook as the room chorused with gasps, and exclamations of “Holy shit,” when my grotesque bite scar that rested just above the junction of my elbow was revealed.

Though still fully clothed, I felt bare – as if every piece of fabric on me had been stripped, along with my chances of joining their way of living. The soldiers abruptly cocked their weapons and aimed the barrels of their guns towards my head. This is it - this is where the pain finally ends, I thought as a single lonely, yet peaceful tear escaped from my eye as both my eyes closed, and the bodily fluid slipped down my pink cheeks, cooling the warm skin where my slight rosacea poked through.

“HolHold your fire!” The first in command’s voice rang loudly, as he held up a backhand, and squinted curiously as me and then the spot on my flesh.

“Sir?” the one near me asked, confused just as much as his comrades by the halt of action. The silver haired man retrieved my gun from the floor and pointed it at me as he elegantly glided towards me with determination, and his head held strong, powerful. It was only when the barrel of my own defense was a foot from my face, that I noticed the slivers of walker blood splattered across his face in their dark, thick form.

Two strong, white armor covered arms wrapped securely around the inside of both my arms, holding me in place in the most awkward stance possible by pushing my arms out like a duck, as the man in charge grasped my arm gently, running a finger over my wound. His face scrunched together to create an expression that meant he couldn’t believe the sight before his hard blue eyes.

“When was this?” he asked flatly, with no emotion or wavering in his returned strong tone as he stared at me coldly with the gun pointed back to me once more.

“Three weeks ago…” I muttered weakly as the man holding only my limbs clutches tighter making me groan.

“I don’t believe it,” he gasped but smiled. Relief – all of his body language said that he was relieved, “cuff her, please – and don‘t hurt her… she’s coming back to meet the boss lady,” he commanded, as the men around him cheered, and the cold metal entrapped my wrists behind my back. That was the last he said before I was ushered out of the mall, past the dead walker they must have shot (and caught my attention with the sound) as the push onward towards a large black van, pulling me inside before they drive away from the abandoned building.

As if having a fully functioning vehicle at this time was not impressive enough, their community outshined any place I had ever laid eyes on. Though from the outside, it looked just like an abandoned old hotel, the inside was pristine. The lobby crawled with doctors dressed in white lab coats, and civilians dressed similarly to me, but their clothes were spotless. I had to close my mouth to keep from inhaling some sort of bug, though I was certain there was no such thing in a building this spectacular.

I was lead into a small concrete room, with a metal table and two chairs sitting opposite one another in the middle of the space, and was sat down as the leader of their army unlocked and removed the handcuffs from my wrists, sliding them off and looping them into his belt hooks, letting them dangle at his thigh. “I’m sorry for these, by the way,” he says kindly, “it’s simply a safety measure.” I nod and smile politely up at him.

“I understand,” I said. He offered me another smile before exiting the room, leaving me on my own just as I was before today. I reached up and pulled my hair tie out of the messy catastrophe of a bun that my dirty blonde hair was held in, and combed nervously through it with my fingers, yanking restlessly to undo any tangles that trap my hand, letting it fall on my shoulders messily after ruffling it until the way it looked in the reflection of the chrome colored table satisfied me. I sat and played with my mother's opal ring on my ring finger, twirling it around my finger repeatedly to pass the time. It had only been about twenty minutes, though it felt like an hour when there was a quiet knock on the large metal door, and in walked a beautiful tall tan woman, with dark hair in a perfect bun and a pristine white doctor’s jacket. She presented me with a warm smile, and held a twinkle in her brown eyes, as she strode towards the opposite side of the table.

“Hi, sweetheart! My name is Jenine, Welcome to the Embassy San Francisco Base. What’s your name, dear?” he voice was kind and silver and her words rolled off her tongue compassionately, making me feel more at ease, as we shook hands.

“I’m Maverie…Maverie Jensen, ma’am.” I nodded and offered her a nervous, yet excited smile.

“Ah, she has manners,” Jenine said, turning to stick out a shoulder towards me in delight, “so, Maverie, what seems to have brought you to our community?” she asks.

I lifted my arm from it’s sheltered spot under the table, revealing to her my scar. “The last thing that happened was I showed this to your men, and before I knew it, I was being rushed here in handcuffs…this bite was three weeks ago,” I explain. She rubs her chin between her thumb and forefinger as she leans forward to examine my mark closer.

“I see…” she comments, as she stares, “well, Maverie, there are a few tests I’d like to run in our labs if you don’t mind – just an ultrasound so we can check out your organs, and a blood test mostly, to see what’s kept you so…well, you.” She says politely. Nothing about her tone sets me off – between her soothing voice and kindhearted nature, so I simply nodded in agreement. Besides, she wasn’t the only one with questions.

This time without handcuffs, Jenine lead me up to the second floor, and into a room. I had never been in a hospital before it was all but ruined, but this is what I imagine one would have looked like before I was born. I am sat down in a reclining chair of sorts, and a sharp IV needle is stuck into my arm. I only know what this equipment is because my mom was a doctor, and when we went on raids for first aid equipment she’d tell me stories from her golden days.

“Ow! I exclaim, looking at Jenine questioningly.

“Sorry, should have warned you,” she says bashfully, before extracting a blood sample, and pulling the small needle from my now sore vein. She then proceeds to roll over an equipment cart, which must be the ultrasound. I change into the gown she gives me, stripping myself of all of my clothing suddenly feeling exposed. She runs the ultrasound all around my abdomen, as she searches for any abnormalities.

“So…if I’m not like, sick, am I going to get to stay here?” I ask awkwardly.

“Well,” she sighs, still digging the small device into my gel coated skin, “luckily for you, four of our elderly residents just left their rooms available to newcomers. However, I am not expecting to find any form of illness within you, per say. You see, people like you are very rare. In fact, as of right now, you’re the only person known to exist with your…gift.” She stumbles for a word. “Ah! There she is,” she says as the guides the tool just below my sternum. I look over to the monitor and see a white, blob-like form that she points to. My eyebrows knit together as I look upon the growth with perplexity.

“Maverie, dear,” she pulls my attention, “do you know what this is?” she asks nodding toward her finger on the fuzzy screen.

“No ma’am…” I shake my head. A grin breaks out on her face.

“My dear, this,” her finger taps the glass, “this is hope. This, my dear, is the reason you’re you’re immune. This” she taps the screen excitedly once more, “this, my dear, is the cure…your blood can cure the dead.”

My eyes bulged, and my mouth flew open to speak, though no words came. I was the cure… how does one respond to such a discovery?

“You’re going to change everything,” Jenine emphasized, nodding encouragingly as tears of joy slipped past her eyes. She took both of my hands in hers and squeezed them hospitably. “I know how you can save us. All you have to do is say yes…”

“What do I have to do?” I ask her, with a gleeful smile.

1 Day Later…

Harry’s POV

I lead my group haphazardly through the streets of San Francisco in the hopes of finding the alleged sanctuary known as the Embassy Base. My honorary family shuffled behind me as we dragged onward toward our destination, with guns in hand. There was no more stopping to take photos by the Golden Gate Bridge, nor was there anything left of Alcatraz, just the sound of our boots and sneakers scuffling against the dingy concrete ground while we crossed the bridge. A number of cars that had been seemingly abandoned in a traffic heap were unnerving, knowing that there could be a dead one at any turn. Hell, there could be at least one walker for every car sprawled out across the small road.

“Guns at the ready, everyone,” I announced over my shoulder. I heard the cocking of ‘Old Man’ Martin’s shotgun as well as the clicking of young Mason’s pistol. Our group was small – a mere six-some of lost souls, trying to keep our heads above the water in this world.

There was ‘Old Man’ Martin – the voice of reason, who, more often than not kept me moving forward, and kept me sane. Mason, who was practically my younger brother, with his long brown hair, and toned build. When people saw that kid, they’d never believe he was a mere 16 years old. Then there was his actual brother, and my best mate, Mitch, whom I looked up to greatly. Though we were raised together, a majority of which occurred during this era, he resembled more of a father figure to me.

No offense to my honorary mum, and their real ‘mom,’ Addilyn. Despite her sons’ dark hair and eyes, Addilyn was the picture perfect blonde haired and brown eyed woman. She was petite, which was often troubling as I felt the need for us lads to keep her safe. Everything about our lives apart from fighting our way out of dead people that walked around, was completely normal until our worlds were shaken for the second time.

My ‘brother,’ Mitch and I made a pact that day. We promised one another we’d never allow ourselves to feel things for another person, nor would we care for anyone apart from our immediate group.

“Shh…” Mason stops us all in our tracks, “did you hear that?” he whispers.

All of a sudden there was a crashing sound that, and the sound of shattering glass filled our ears with the sound of an exasperated groan. It sounded…human. We all maneuvered our way through the cars taking out any walkers that stumbled forth. We reached the sight before us expecting to find scouts from our end goal, but what we found instead, changed all of our lives…forever.

 A/N - Let me know what you think! PART 2 COMING SOON

[brooklynislandgirl]

"I wanna kiss you all over." Shane whispers into Beth's ear, his arms around her waist, the open space of the farm before them both. Trouble, for once, hadn't made an appearance. The day was as calm as the wind, gentle against the skin but cool upon the cheeks. There was no sign of Walkers. Randall was locked tight in the barn - Shane had been sure to check, twice, three times. The group was in good health and patched up where needed; Beth the most diligent of doctors. Peace was within the entire group's blessing. And such a miracle Shane wasn't going to waste.

Kissing from her cheek, across her jawline, and then down her throat, Shane pulled Beth ever closer, so that they were practically one. "Wanna make you feel good, wanna thank you for everythin' you've done for me and the group. Can I do that for you, baby?" || From deputygonebye

Surprise Love! <3 ~*~

Just inside the tree line, running the risk of being caught ~well, stumbled across is more accurate. Few walkers manage to breach the farm, and the danger is the rest of the group~ which only adds to the depth of sensuality that Shane stokes in her with the low, subtle pitch of his voice. That alone would weaken her knees but he adds fuel to the fire with his arm heavy around her. There's comfort in the embrace. Tenderness written into every line of closeness both emotional and physical between them and her breath catches in her throat. Despite the crispness of the air, the late afternoon light turning some of the land gold and other parts emerald, ripe with the scent of late summer flowers and early fall crops almost ready for the harvest, Beth feels waves of warmth rolling through her. One hand rests on his hip. The other trails the back of her fingers up his arm so slowly that they might not be moving at all. He drags a husky drawl of his name from her. It could be a plea or a prayer depending on how he wants to hear it. "Shane."

His mouth is surprisingly soft which is at odds with the immense hunger she can feel rising up in him through that series of kisses. And despite the potential lack of privacy they have at the moment she cannot help but to tilt her head back so that her throat is fully exposed, an invitation for him to explore the expanse of her skin, her bones. It's been a good month or more since they've been sharing sleeping space. She thinks that maybe Shane likes how safe he makes her feel in a world that no longer makes sense to her. His presence sets her at ease, lets her sleep like she hasn't been able to in years, but both of them do it so lightly that they often tend to wake up within seconds of each other, listening to what the sounds of the others and ever alert to potential invasion. They've put forth their growing interest in one another in the smallest of ways. Day by day they've grown closer and now?

She's nervous, true. But only because she doesn't quite have the experience on how to move forward. Not that he ever laughed at her when in one of their deepest conversations she admitted to never being romantically involved with anyone before…meeting him. He said it was sweet, and she continues to believe him. She strokes his jaw, curls her fingers around the back of his neck and instinctively grinds her hips against him.

"Want ya, ku'uipo," she groans against his grazing teeth as she swallows hard under his lips. Calls him sweetheart in her native tongue. She wonders what the rise and fall of her throat feels like, if he can nearly taste the pounding of her pulse. She leans forward a moment later, dislodging him from the space between her collar bones. Not that she wants to go far but she is eager to return those exploratory kisses. The tip of her tongue heralds the faint nip of her teeth at the corner of his jaw. "So show me. How you like t' be touched. Where you wan me t' kiss you."

[brooklynislandgirl]

Her mouth midwifes the sound from his throat, gliding upward as she feels it travel upward, sending a faint shiver down the channel of her spine. One that ends up pooling warmly at her root chakra. That sensation dovetails between offering her a deep sense of safety, of belonging with a wild femininity, desirous as well as desired. If she said as much, would he laugh at her gently and wrap a lock of long dark hair around his finger before giving it a tug? Would he grin down at her knowing she has some silly fancies incongruous to the world around her that charm him any way? She lives for those moments when she can steal him away from his grim determination. When she can see his midnight eyes light up with all of his soul. Or maybe he'd confess that he feels those first things within her embrace. Maybe she calls to a primordial sense deep inside him that makes him just that much of a better man ~she's never not taken the opportunity to tell him that she always believes he's one of the best that she knows, and the only other person she's mentioned that way is her own sibling~ and that stokes in him a matching fire. Rough fingers glide like silk across her legs. Not quite close enough to where the devil on her shoulder whispers they should be but impossible not to feel the faint quiver as they trek and the residual heat so close to his skin. He pries her apart with no resistance. Like water she flows around him to cradle his hips between her thighs, locking ankles at the bottom edge of his backside. An uptick of pulse at her throat, a small mewl of alarm when she goes up and up, her hands coming to perch on his shoulders, pinkies coming to rest at the sides of his neck. She is perhaps the smallest member of the group, shorter even than Carl, than little Beth Greene. Height makes her queasy but this time the disorientation is abated when she feels his breath along her collar bones. When she drowns in his gaze. She swallows hard just before his mouth meets hers. Coaxes her to open for him and feels the sweet of his tongue as he deepens those kisses, determined to steal away her breath. He presses into her and an ache comes alive from the close contact. The wall provides all the support she could crave as her bones seem to melt from within. "Yes," she whispers heatedly, though with eyes half lidded, molten green and hot honey, it might be debatable whether she's answering his husky questions or whether she's remarking on the way his tongue draws its lines against her skin. That seductive plea-turn-command envelopes her just as tightly as his arms. She strokes the back of his neck and leaves light furrows in the passing of her nails. He ignites a flutter deep in the pit of her belly, and a swath of goosebumps ~chicken skin, she calls it~ across her flesh. She takes only quick shallow breaths as she searches his face though what she seeks is hard to quantify in any meaningful way. Beth's body shifts against the wall, not quite jockeying for position, and her lashes flutter as the motion has her hips grinding against him but for as close as they are, the friction does nothing to that growing ache that pulses with every beat of her heart which itself is beginning to beat stronger and faster. All because of his voice. Low and deep against her bones. All because of how it winds in and out of her, the words themselves dangerous. She trails her lips to his jaw, grazes the line of it with the edges of pearly white small and sharp teeth. Delights in the rasp of stubble against her tongue when she soothes the little nips sprinkled here and there.

@brooklynislandgirl asked: It isn't often that she and Shane are... well, allowed isn't the right word, is it? No one is technically holding them against their will, they could not call the situation Stockholm Syndrome or anything of the like, but it is a matter of sense and responsibility.

There really happens to be no question that Shane is their greatest warrior, a knight-defender whose entire mindset and body is ready to protect the group and their interests at whatever cost. She doesn't ever tell him how much that stalwart nature of his scares her when she has to watch him go. And just maybe, deep down, Beth wants to believe that Shane feels that same feeling in the pit of his stomach when he has to leave her behind in camp when he forages for supplies or goes on patrol.

Like it or not, it makes sense that she stays behind. With Lori in her condition, and Doc Greene being a man of a certain age with veterinary skills while hers stay grounded in human medicine? It would be fool-hardy to risk sending a doctor in Walker-infested wilds. Problem with that, she'd almost argue is that there's no promise as the days drag on that the farm itself won't be overrun. And she won't add more weight to his shoulders by confessing that fear.

But there are things she needs to keep up the health and sanity of the group. She could describe them, write it down, send him off and then settle back to wait and hope. But Shane's girl? Small as she is, she's quick, soundless. She's agile. She's strong in her own way and so she holds firm, insisting the foraging party would have better luck in taking her, especially with Daryl is still not a hundred percent.

And she's not wholly disappointed when the night and the weather turn against them. Shane finds an abandoned house and is fast at sweeping through it. Their luck there are no bodies rotting with in, nor is it occupied by the enemy whatever form it wishes to take.

They make short work of setting up a nest on the second floor, a mostly boarded up window for vantage, stringed cans across the stairs at intervals for an alarm. The delight of clean sheets and blankets from the bathroom's linen closet and when was the last time they could say they had something not washed in river water?

Maybe it's a moment of actual privacy in a relatively luxurious space. Maybe it's the way his shirt strains against his shoulders as he opens cans ~they can spare a few, this once. After all, what good are they to the group if they don't make it back?~ so that he can cautiously heat up supper for them. Or maybe. Just maybe... Beth wants to feel him close. To breath him in and suck the heat out of his bones to banish all the dark things that lurk inside of her.

Whatever it is, she finds herself wrapping her fingers at his hips, half pushing-half pulling him away from the counter. A few tripping steps and she's pushing him against the wall of the dining room, just on the other side of the marble island. Straining on the tips of her toes to try and buy just one more inch to get closer to his mouth, she still comes up just a little short.

Beth knows how to improvise. Letting him go, she slips fingertips into the collar of his shirt and tugs it down. Her lips fix themselves to his bones there. The soft press of full lips becomes a wet little suckling motion as if she doesn't have a care in the world about leaving her mark on him.

She really doesn't. Care, that is. Not when she feels the heat. The steady beat of his pulse. Tastes the salt on his skin, and she sighs, eyes half-closing.

Send me “Against The Wall” to slam my muse up against a wall and kiss them.

Once more another darkened night, the marriage of storm clouds and dulled moon, into a home that wasn't their own did Shane and his Beth go. Nestled within a neighborhood whose blue sign was beaten down by the elements and hands grayed - Wiltshire Estates - scratched around the lettering, the hinges almost wholly loose from the metallic post. Proud on the corner where sidewalk led the way, the roof of the home was pristine in nature, untouched, would serve well to keep out the unwanted, both alive and not so. Lifeless slate that went about in rows and rows of shingle; the inside of the home was pleasant and quaint, the memories of an old couple still stationed on the walls, their faces forever hung in picture frames, smiling with cheeks painted pink. Arms wrapped around each other, wife and husband united in more than their silver, their ultimate fate uncertain. Shane gone from one end of the house to another, Beretta 96 handled in steady, tight grip, finger readied at the trigger, unable to find those lost lovers. Neither them nor any Geek of similar kind, for the time spent, he and Beth would be protected. Safe from an end worse than death - in a home that wasn't, couldn't, be theirs.

Cans not used for the sake of security measures, that was to be dinner. Cracked open by hand and eyed with the same sort of disinterest, both mind and belly that yearned for more and better. Too tired of the same bland and tasteless meals; unable to stomach the heaviness that came about from beans, the lack of full from corn or carrots. Desired so much for what was used to be had, straight from the oven, smothered in sauce and hot to the tastebuds, the flavors that spoke delicious. What could impress and what did so, what Shane would've cooked for Beth had the Lord above been kinder. Less harsh in the remaking of the world, when such things mattered most in life, the play that came about from courtship and dating, romance and sweet beginnings. Dates from home, surrounded by the comforts that were so easily taken for granted, to winnow the bad and never the good. More than room temperature canned delights, what Beth deserved, their relationship too beautiful for such messes.

So pure, nearly had Shane been completely overwhelmed by it. Stunned, his feet almost knocked out from under him, his entire heart stolen from his chest before he so much realized. An attraction so devastating; the love he felt for Beth was painful, an agony that worked its way into bliss, the sort of hurt that he bore happily. Compared to none, there was no love greater to Shane than Beth. Always sought for but never found, the faces of the past blurred together, mere moments to a life that desired more, craved more. Assumed to have discovered such in Lori - bonded by trauma, lust fall into so soon as the ways of the heart - Shane left all alone, in the end. A man scorned, lover thrusted from warm embrace, a father pushed aside because the truth was too bitter a pill. Much too difficult to swallow with dry throat, the mutual sin that couldn't ever be changed, the faults of two but suffered separately. Ardor akin to a whirlwind - hurricane of emotion and wounded feelings - from Beth did Shane comprehend how foolish he had been. Beth was that real love. Long awaited for, too precious to ever let go of, would die for without question.

Slender bone around his hips, pulled away from the newest of opened canned goods, when his back met hard wall, Shane was drawn from his daydreams, the thoughts that always tried to outrun him. Pinned at the point between kitchen and dining room, helpless, traditional roles reversed because of determined plan. Fingers around his shirt neck, the yank to the cloth strong but not brutal, directed just where Beth wished him to be. Not given the chance to protest - not for a second did such words dare to escape his lips - her mouth on his flesh, the mark of Beth deeply rooted in the space of collarbone. Expanse that couldn't be hidden by properly adjusted shirt or collar; bound to be mullberry, the sweetest of fruits, labors so dedicated. Like the tartness of the berries they shared when love was first confessed, all over their mouths and fingers, chased by kisses, a rumble started in Shane. Carried from his throat upward, the sort of purr that signaled more possessive streaks, fell from his lips in the shape of a moan.

Hands taken from the space at his sides, empty and hung lazily, to the curve of Beth's thighs, into a lift did Shane force her position. Scooped into his arms and held by his waist, until her legs wrapped around his hips and locked, Beth looking down to him, he up to her. Glance so warmed that they could be compared to sparks; brown turned into blaze, the juncture of sane man and untamed animal. Wordlessly, with his touch still kept at her thighs and legs, Shane kissed Beth. Propped her against himself as he spun them both around, placed her against the wall instead, pressed his weight to her and kept her there, attacked her with kisses. Kisses and more kisses; the gentle slide of his tongue over her lips, across her neck as his face slid south.

"Markin' me up, baby? Wanna make sure, that when we get back to the others, everybody knows I'm yours?"

Shane whispered, voice like honey, liquid gold and decadence, parted only by kisses. "Do it, Beth. Mark me. Bite me. Sink your teeth into me - do whatever you want to me, darlin'. Make me yours - I am yours. Just like you're mine. All mine, always mine; gonna leave my mark on you. You want that? Beth? You want me to do that, cover every inch of you in love bites? Mark you with my teeth, my tongue? Ain't nobody gonna question who you belong to after, who either one of us belongs to. Say the word, baby. Just say the word. Tell me, Beth."

[brooklynislandgirl]

Sense and Other Specific Headcanons

What does your muse smell like? Before the world went to hell, Beth would make her own essential-oil perfumes and soaps. Better for the environment, less likely to hurt a patient or ruin a lab culture, and far longer lasting than the alcohol based ones sold in drug stores and ultra-exclusive boutiques. What little she has left, she hoards like gold. Uses it only on truly special occasions. Firstly it’s because Walkers seem to be attracted by smell as much as noise, and because when survival is the only order of the day, she doesn’t have the luxury of beauty routines. Her favourite scents are a combination of lei flower {plumeria; which can be described as sweet, somewhat citrusy, but like jasmine or gardenia} and clary sage, or sandalwood and blood orange. Even in the humidity and heat of Georgia, or because of it, she always does have a hint of tropical flowers or juices. What does your muse's hands feel like? Beth has never been able to give up the habit of constant hand-washing, whether it’s with little bottles of sanitizer found in abandoned truck stops, or the luxury of using lukewarm water that’s cooled down after it’s been retrieved from a stream and boiled to within an inch of its life. One would think that this would dry her skin out, but she takes care to keep the smooth, callous free and soft. They are small and fine boned but they are as capable of the same hard work as others do just as much as they are trained in the medical arts.  She also carefully trims and files her nails. Despite thin, earth can be found beneath them and in the lines of her palms or knuckles. Fortunately, her group does not need constant medical care, so she makes herself useful in a variety of other ways; collecting edible nuts, seeds, fungi, and plants. Gardening when they settle down for long enough stretches. Helping strip, clean, and maintain their armoury. Whatever is asked of her, and a lot of things that aren’t. When she is caring for someone sick or injured, her hands are gentle, they are cool and dry, and they are steady.

What does your muse usually eat in a day? Even before the Wildfire Virus was unleashed on an unsuspecting world, Beth was never the kind to indulge in food as a means of nourishment and comfort. From her teen years, her medications often put her off on food. Her dedication to preserving life lead her toward being a pescatarian, and then work as a Doctor often meant that she was too tired by the end of the night or day to even want more than a piece of toast, half abandoned beside her coffee or tea. More often than not, it was wine that made its way inside of her. Her brother would complain about her being underweight ~technically, she is, despite her short stature~ and now when things are scarce? She is inclined to give a majority of their meals to the ones that need it most: the children of the group or community, the men who do most of the heavy work and the protection of all, and the older souls who might not be able to thrive on smaller portions. Beth’s normal diet might be a protein bar nibbled at as if it had done her and her kin deepest wrong packet or instant oatmeal, and preferably coffee with whatever they can find that will pass for cream and sugar. Drinking something sweet is the quickest way to get carbs into the bloodstream, after all. If she’s feeling indulgent, and they’re lucky enough... she might eat an two egg omelette with wild mushrooms and wild onions. A piece of toast. Lunch might be a repeat of breakfast, depending on what was happening for the day. She takes what she can get and doesn’t complain. Though she misses simple things like spaghetti bolognese with garlic bread, or pasta Alfredo. She might be willing to kill for coconut curry or a plain grilled cheese. Does your muse have a good singing voice? Beth can sing. It doesn’t mean she should. Music was always Andy’s gift. He could play any instrument, and had a perfect voice for blues and rock, though he wasn’t half bad at country either. Beth however was far more gifted with dancing and art. She can sing along to songs she knows by heart, but learning new ones is an excruciating process. She also mishears a lot of lyrics and because she’s been teased about it in the past, she usually politely and shyly declines when asked to sing. She is incredibly soft-spoken, barely talking above a whisper, and her voice happens to be husky. Pearl Jam is her favourite band, and she knows every word of every song by heart. She also loves the Beatles, Pink Floyd, and the Red Hot Chili Peppers. These are the easiest songs to get her to come out of her shell. Does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks? Beth tends to hide her smile behind her palm, rarely flashing her teeth openly. Her canines are pronounced as are most of the others, and they are a little crooked. While she could have had cosmetic orthodontics at any point in her life, she’s never had them fixed. However, she’s been told that they are unsightly and no one wants to see fangs in a human mouth. Beth will often bite the inside corners of her lips or suck her lower lip between her teeth when she’s deep in contemplation or holding something back. When possible, she’ll self-medicate her feelings or lack there of by drinking wine or if it’s particularly bad or horrific, vodka. She doesn’t allow people to touch her left leg, and goes through great pains to keep it “hidden” due to the horrific scarring caused by a shark bite. She says it is kapu. Whether she means this in a sense of it’s sacred, or whether it’s taboo is anyone’s guess. Due to her audio processing disorder and difficulty with spoken language, Beth is often speaking Pidgin, a Hawai’ian creole dialect, though she can and does speak perfectly good English when she wants or needs to.  What does your muse usually look like/wear? Being extremely tactile and sensitive to touch, Beth has a difficult time with too tight, too form fitting clothes when the texture of them is off-putting. Being as physically small as she is, it is often difficult to find clothes in her size, too. When she started her search for her brother, she took a sea bag worth of clothes with her. Two pairs of scrubs, two pairs of hiking shorts, her lab coat, two sets of thermal leggings and long sleeve shirts, two pairs of jeans, a couple of her brother’s tee-shirts to sleep in, a week’s worth of underpants and socks, a pair of sneakers, hiking boots, and ‘slippahs’ {flip flops}. She has a denim jacket for cool weather, and a winter coat that can double as a pillow or blanket. Somewhere in this mess is also two of her favourite bikinis. Beth is thankfully slight enough in built that she typically doesn’t have to worry about wearing a bra, but she knows the importance of layers. All of this is a far cry from her favourite clothing which is long flowing skirts and sleeveless shirts. She used to wear as little as possible. She doesn’t have that luxury any more. Is your muse affectionate? How so? As a byproduct of being a medical professional, Beth literally cares about every single person she encounters. Some might say overly so, some might say she wears her heart on her sleeve, or call her a hippy-tree-hugger. Those people aren’t technically wrong, and because of her own tragedies, she’s especially fond of children and the elderly. She doesn’t think twice about giving someone’s arm a squeeze, a reassuring pat, or a hug when it seems like they need one. She’s quick to laugh at other people’s jokes. She tends to stand or talk closely with others {which helps her read lips and watch for micro-expressions}. She is very open, giving, understanding. Above all else, she tries so hard to live by the motto “First, Do No Harm.” Part of it is cultural, part of it has to do with being a doctor, and part of it she just doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. On the downside, she is easily misled, and for someone so smart, she’s incredibly naive. What position does your muse sleep in? When Beth can get sleep ~she has been a lifelong insomniac, prone to night terrors and bouts of sleep paralysis~ it’s because she’s sleeping beside someone she trusts, and in those moments, she falls asleep however she finally ‘drops’, but most comfortably she sleeps on her side. Small-spoon style. If that isn’t convenient, she has a need to be touching the other person at least with her toes or finger tips. She never actually sleeps in any one position for long, and is likely to toss or turn several times a ‘night’. Sometimes, she inexplicably cries in her sleep, silent tears that soak into her pillow. Can you hear your muse in the hallway from another room?

You’d have an easier time hearing a mouse creeping forty feet below ground than hear Beth make a single-foot fall. She walks softly in every sense of the word, and spent a lifetime learning to be as unobtrusive as humanly possible. She is not a loud talker. She is definitely not a mouth-breather, and doesn’t snore. More often than not, if she can manage to be still for a very long time, people will forget she’s even there.

Tagged by: my darling Kennzie @deputygonebye​

Tagging: Go ahead and do it. If you’ve done it before, pick a fave au <3

[brooklynislandgirl]

🖤 || From deputygonebye

A Little Me, A Little You || Accepting

Kuāua || Shane Walsh Recruiting New Meat ||The Walking Dead au

attractiveness:

repulsive / hideous / ugly / not attractive / unappealing / not unattractive / meh / no preference / ok / mildly attractive / nice looking / cute / adorable / attractive / pleasant on the eyes / good looking / hot / sexy / beautiful / gorgeous / hot damn / would tap that / perfect / godlike / holy fuck there are no words.

personality:

grating / irritating / frustrating / boring / confusing at best / awkward / unreasonable / psychotic / disturbing / interesting / engaging / affectionate / aggressive / ambitious / anxious / artistic / bad tempered / bossy / charismatic / appealing / unappealing / creative / courageous / dependable / unreliable / unpredictable / predictable / devious / dim / extroverted / introverted / egotistical / gregarious / fabulous / impulsive / intelligent / sympathetic / talkative / up beat / peaceful / calming / badass / flexible.

how likely they would have sex with them:

not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending / fuck no! / never / no way / not likely / not sure / indifferent / I’m asexual / maybe / probably / it depends / fairly likely / likely / yeah sure / yes / would tap that / hell yes / fuck yes! / wishing that could happen right now / as many times as possible / we are already having sex.

level of friendship:

never in a million years / worst of enemies / enemies / rivals / indifferent / neutral / acquaintance / friendly toward each other / casual friends / friends / good friends / best friends / fuck buddies / bosom buddies / practically the same person / would die for them / true friends / my only friend.

first impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

current impression of them:

i hate them so much / i don’t like them / i don’t trust them / they annoy me / they’re weird / I’m indifferent / meh / they seem alright / they’re growing on me / truce / I think I like them / I like them / I’m not sure if I trust them / I trust them / they’re cool / they’re genuine / I think we’re going to get along / I really like them / I think I’m in love / oh fuck they’re hot / I love them.

[brooklynislandgirl]

If Beth would have predicted her future, she would never have said she would leave New York to work at the CDC. She would never imagine having to escape the facility right before Atlanta was fire-bombed. She could never imagine the dead returning to life in an ever more terrible nightmare, like nothing the Good Book predicted; these are truly the Tribulations. The other thing that she would never have believed, even if she could go back in time and tell her more innocent self, was that she would meet the man she was destined to fall in love with. But here she is, laying in their bed, watching him. Not once did Shane ever seem ashamed to have drawn her eye. He doesn't go out of his way to treat her like some dirty secret. And the others? They likely knew what was happening before she and Shane had. Sure, there's still some conversations that die out in hushed whispers when one or the other appears. Yes, she knows some of the things said behind backs and out of hearing and Shane has never lied about any of it. It isn't even a compulsory honesty, he simply doesn't want her to see him painted in shades that are unflattering. He has always wanted her to come to her own conclusions about it, just as he decided that she holds more value than someone with medical knowledge, a tool to be used to keep up the hopes and health of his family. He shifts and the weight of him settles over her. Her arms instinctively rise to wind around his neck, fingertips fanning out across the broad plains of his shoulders. She breathes him in and takes comfort as he surrounds her entirely. Hands on either side of her head, it isn't difficult to turn and to brush the insides of his wrists with her lips. Not even proper kisses but rather mere caresses, touching because she can. Because it never feels like enough, even when she's draped herself across his chest. Where she listens to his heart beating strong, steady. But it really is that smile that does her in. She sees the seeds of it when it comes on slow and close lipped all the time. But when the corners of his eyes crinkle? When he shows teeth? That's when it's real. That's rare. That's how he's looking down at her. Normally Beth hates being still. Being pinned down in place unable to move. That isn't what he's doing, not really. It's a playful illusion. A courtship display where she knows she's at his mercy, that he's got her in every sense of the word, but if she asked, if he felt the slightest bit of distress? He'd set her free and talk her down off the ledge of her anxiety. Just as she does when his sleep is interrupted by nameless dreams that leave him shivering in her arms, face buried in her neck. She chases after the kiss he washes her in after they break like waves. Craves the warmth and the softness of his mouth. The way he breathes into her and all of her rises below him to keep every ounce of contact. She blooms as he nuzzles her and smiles against his mouth. "Hand t' God, I wan' not'ing more," she confesses, helplessly and blissfully truthful. "Wha' I like…is you, Deputy Walsh." Her head tilts back to accommodate his travels. Exposes her collarbones. Presses the slight swells of her breasts into his chest. Her fingers rise to his hair where she loses them there in the coal-black strands. He spins the story of what she happened to envision in that half-wakefulness. His voice is all night and sin and gravelled whisper when he makes promises. Sweet ones, blisteringly heated ones that threaten to erase her will by the second. She doesn't doubt him. She doesn't really care what the others think. If they imagine her and Shane tangled up in each other? That's fine. One of the first casualties of their new life was a sense of modesty, of the privacy they might have had. And why should she not be able to hold her head high? Shane hadn't been married. "All due respect, I'd be willin' t' trade Herschel's peace of mind, for a few more minutes of…" a deep breath drawn inward, exhaled in an eclipsing grown "…of stayin' jus' like dis."

Beth gets a better hold of her good sense. She slides her hands down to his cheeks and pulls his face up so that she can meet him eye to eye. It's all too easy to drown in him otherwise, especially when he glides against her skin. "I…I hate when you're gone so long, but I understan' why you're doin' it. So promise me even wi' T watchin' your six dat you'll be careful. Wet isn't forgivin' an is more dangerous dan da heat. An' I don' wan anyt'ing happenin' to you." It is an truthful assessment. She rather gets on well with Theo. Likes him a lot. He's a kind and caring young man, listens more than he talks. She isn't casting aspersions on him. If anything, she'd be telling him the same thing if it were Rick or Daryl or even her own brother. She shivers her way up from underneath him until she's sitting. Her head drops down and a shadow passes across her face that has nothing to do with the weak light, the rain, with Shane himself. "I am. She doesn' seem t' wanna have me fuss about her an' if I'm bein' honest? If I were her, I don' know how I would keep goin' too. Between her bastard of a husband an' now dis? I t'ink she's tryin' t' get herself caught by dem kine." She shakes her head. "I dunno if dere's anyt'ing I..or you…or Daryl can do f' her. She is tryin' t' find her own peace an' doesn't want it right now. But yeah, I'm making sure she's gettin' antiseptic treatment, makin' sure dey ~her hands~ are wash real good. Blessedly, a lot of da cuts are really superficial." Her heart breaks a thousand times for the woman, for her daughter, for the group. "You doin' okay, wi' all of it? I know I haven' aks…figure you'd talk about it when you were ready, but I wan you to know you can tell me anyt'ing."

@brooklynislandgirl || Continued from here.

Unmistakable was their union, the bond and bed that Shane and Beth shared together. Not formally declared before the masses, like royalty before the commonfolk, but understood without confusion between the members of their camp, the other survivors. Shane hid nothing from their watchful eyes, their worried glances, their almost doubtful stares. History had been made by he plenty of times before within their found family. As leader, as defender, as the lover of Lori. Subtly, least he thought so at the time, a renewal that would see Beth suffer the same fate. Scared - pregnant in a world that was already damned - frightened and left to watch as Shane moved on to the next gentle hand, the next warm body. They did not need to say so, for Shane knew that such were their thoughts, the persons of the group who had already drawn their loyalties to someone else. Another leader who they deemed to be better suited for the job; the kindhearted deputy that Shane loved like a brother, the kindest man left in Georgia.

But Shane wasn't Rick. Nor was he a hound, nose stuck to the ground, searching for his next prize with frenzy. There was a time when his love for Lori would've made him do anything. Committed any crime, ruin any good ounce of himself just for the touch of her kiss, the promise of her love returned. But Shane was not what Lori wanted. Not when the end of their old lives came; when the buildings crumbled and society was lost to the foundations of the world, broken forever. He was a protector. A friend. A love at one moment in time but no longer. What was had between them, that was as dead as the Walker corpses that rotted in the fire pit just near the red barn of Hershel's farm. Lasted as long as they did, too, was gone completely once Rick came back into the picture, a feather blown away in the wind.

Rejection didn't have the chance to capture Shane. Not for long, not when a pretty doctor stumbled into his path, was in need of help and a trusting soul. The day that he met Beth, that changed Shane forever. More than was expected to - all that he had ever wanted was found in her. Softness, tenderness from each grace of her fingertips against his skin, a devotion that wasn't one-sided. Shane was absolutely smitten. Thought of her always, especially whenever responsibility kept them apart. Dreamed of her when night came. Wished for her before morning forced them to rise, a kiss at the break of dawn. It was no secret that he loved Beth. Said as so any chance he could, before their friends and alone, meant every word. He was crazy for her. Driven by his heart, would've done anything that she asked for without question. Would face life and death for her sake, bravely, keep her safe until the very hands of the Lord called him home.

Listening as the rain tapped against their makeshift home, the sound of their bed moving and the lift to Beth's voice was enough to earn her Shane's attention. Rain was worse than the heat. Muddied the roads, ruined the clothes lines that were setup to dry, put everyone's mood on edge. Terrible, considering all things, but made better by the presence of Beth, the ray of sunshine that broke into the clouds that darkened Shane's thoughts. Disrupted them without care, painted a smile to his lips, the weight of his body on top of hers as he returned to her, back to their bed, back to where he belonged and always wanted to stay.

Palms on either side of Beth's head, molded to the sleeping bag, Shane held his weight above her but loosened his hold just enough so that he could feel the rise and fall of her chest, the light thump of her beating heart. Knees on either side of her, too, nearly caging her hips between them, sweet Beth unable to move unless Shane desired to free her. She was his prisoner. His captive, his precious internee. And he didn't have plans to let her go.

Humming into a kiss, Shane bent down and stole Beth's lips against his own. Welcomed her taste against his tongue, the breath of a new day and the sigh that escaped her.

"You think so, doctor?" Shane asked after the kiss was broken, running his nose against Beth's, along the bridge of hers, tracing every inch of her skin. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, darlin'?"

Said in tease between a fall of kisses, started at Beth's cheek and moving southward to the scoop of her neck, Shane continued with his lazy morning affections. "You and me, cooped up in here while the rain falls? Makin' everybody in the group wonder just what we're up to? Think that might make ol' Hershel upset. He likes seein' you. Likes seein' me - helps him with keepin' tabs. Maybe later, alright? After we do what chores we're able to. You meet me back in here, and I'll see if I can make those pretty toes of yours curl like they've never curled before. I got a trick that I need to try on you."

Halting his movements, resting his head at the base of her collarbone, Shane grinned at the possibility, the hopeful future for he.

"I gotta help T-Dog with another perimeter check. Dale thinks he might of spot somethin' just on the path that leads out from here, the one that connects into the woods. If there's one Geek around, there's bound to be more some place else. I might not be back for a few hours, but if you need me, you just holler. I'll hear you. I'll come runnin'. Are... are you still checkin' on Carol? Lookin' at her hands and stuff? After what happened at the barn... after Sophia... she's been goin' into the woods, tugging on the thorns and flowers out there. Is she doin' any better? Her hands, they ain't infected or nothin', are they?"