#abigail asked me to play one direction the other day so that was a parenting win

[femstyles]

Exciting news..... baby #2 is on the way!

[h0nkch0c0late]

Mad Thomas

Fear street 1666 Mad Thomas x Reader

Summary: Mad Thomas, Aka the town drunk. Y/n Miller, Aka Hannah Miller's sister and the Pastor's daughter. What happens when she gets stopped by Thomas on her way to the forest for the fruits of the land thing?

Warnings: smut I guess? Well kind of smut??? It's not really smut???

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

"Y/n!" Her mother called to her from the kitchen, slight evidence of annoyance in her voice, causing Y/n to sigh and walk away from her chores in her room.

"Yes, mother? What is it?" She asked somewhat quietly as she approached her mother.

"Can you see why your sister is taking so long with her chore outside?" Her mother clearly looked upset.

Y/n nodded, walking to the door and opening it, seeing Hannah talking to Sarah Fier.

Y/n smiled at Sarah, having no problem with her she didn't see why not, Sarah smiling back at her as Hannah looked to her sister.

"What is it?" Hannah asked timidly.

"Mother wanted to know what has been taking you so long out here-"

Y/n was interrupted by their mother, "and that she has to come back inside!"

Y/n rolled her eyes, "and that you have to come back inside. Don't worry, I won't tell her that you've been talking to Sarah." She said in almost a whisper, careful to not let their mother hear.

Sarah sighed, "I'll see you tonight, Hannah."

Hannah nodded to her, "of course." She then walked past Y/n into the house, their mother starting to say harsh things to her as Y/n started to close the door behind her.

"Where are you going?" Mrs. Miller's direction turned towards her other daughter.

Y/n turned her head towards her, "going to check on father, is all." She lied.

Mrs. Miller huffed as a response, letting Y/n go.

Y/n smiled at her mother before closing the door behind her, looking towards Sarah.

"The full moon rises before nightfall." She said with a smile.

"A good night to enjoy the fruits of the land. You're going too?" Sarah raised a brow in surprise.

Y/n chuckled, "why of course. I may be the Pastor's responsible daughter, but that doesn't mean I can't have a little fun once in a while right? And Hannah needs it since our mother has been especially hard on her lately." She sighed as she started walking with Sarah.

Sarah nodded in understanding, "it's because of me, isn't it?"

"Most likely. I wouldn't be too worried though. Just as long as you don't do anything bad, I'm sure you both will be fine." Y/n explained, examining the people around her, waving to Abigail as she dragged Constance off with her.

Y/n looked down to see a bag in Sarah's hand, and that they were headed in the direction of Solomone Goode's home. "What have you got in that bag of yours?" She asked.

"One of the piglets that had gotten stuck. I wanted to give it to Solomone as a gift." Sarah responded, and just as she said that, a small oink came from inside of the bag.

Y/n chuckled, "Ah, alright well I'll leave you to it. I might as well actually check on my father while I'm outside."

"I'll leave you to it, then." But just as Sarah was about to leave, the door to the outhouse burst open, a drunken Thomas stumbled out of it.

Both girls groaned in annoyance at the boy as he stumbled towards them.

"I can see A secret about you, girl." Thomas said as he walked straight towards Sarah.

"And a good day to you too, Thomas." Sarah replied calmly, though slightly annoyed by his presence, trying to step forward away from him but he stopped her.

"Don't you want to hear it?" Thomas questioned.

"Thomas, leave her alone she doesn't want to deal with you right now." Y/n said, grabbing his arm.

Sarah nodded, "please just leave me alone."

But Thomas didn't listen, he just shook Y/n's hand off, contuing to bother Sarah. "I can see everything. I can see all the dark secrets in Union."

Sarah scoffs, "you must be busy." She then pushed Thomas away and started to walk, Y/n gasping as Thomas persisted, grabbing onto Sarah again.

"I see darkness in you, girl!" He said as Sarah struggled in his grip.

Y/n grabbed him, forcing him off of Sarah and pushing him. "Be still, Thomas!" Y/n warned as Sarah glared at the man. Thomas just laughed.

"Sarah, it's best if you go now." Y/n sighed, eyeing Thomas to make sure he doesn't go after Sarah again.

Sarah nodded, then turned around and continued her walk to Solomone's home.

"Beware, Sarah Fier!" Thomas laughed again.

Y/n scoffed, "Thomas, would you please stop being so crude to Sarah? She's done nothing wrong."

Though it seemed that Thomas wasn't exactly listening to her words, only looking at her and grabbing her wrist, leaning in closer to her.

"And you, you hold many secrets." He told, holding her wrist tightly but not too tightly, which is strange for him.

Y/n's cheeks started to turn pink, her face feeling warm as she stuttered, "i-i have no idea what you are talking about. You are completely mad, Thomas."

Thomas smirked, letting go of her wrist, "you hide behind a facade, girl. But I know who you really are." His eyes practically pierced through her own.

Y/n's heart was beating erratically at how close he was, and the lowness of his voice...she knew he was just drunk and had no understanding of his words, but she almost felt like he did in fact know.

But it was something even she didn't want to admit. She didn't want to admit that Y/n Miller, the Pastor's daughter, was in love with the town's famous drunk, Mad Thomas. But she couldn't help it. There was just something about him that made her so strangely attracted to him, but she could never put a finger on it.

He laughed once more, walking away (more like stumbling away).

Y/n sighed, taking a moment to calm her flushed cheeks before spotting her father and heading her way towards him.

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

Y/n took a deep breath as she took small, quiet steps down the stairs in her house quiet as to not wake up her parents, and saw her sister at the door.

They nodded at each other, linking arms and walking towards the forest.

Lizzie and Sarah appeared, stealing Hannah away to collect the berries as Y/n chuckled to herself, continuing on her way to the party.

As she entered the woods, she heard ruffling noises behind the trees. Of course she thought nothing of it, the thought of one of the party-goers or an animal only crossing her mind.

But as she walked further, she was suddenly pulled behind a tree, she shrieked, a hand quickly covering her mouth as she was pushed up against it.

She recognized it immediately, looking up to see the face of Thomas. Though she had calmed down a bit, she was still a little freaked out about the sudden actions of him. "T-Thomas what are you doing?"

Thomas had a smirk on his face as he looked at her, "you're mother and father wouldn't like if they found out you were out here at night. I expected this from your sister, but from you? I would have never guessed."

"What I do is none of your business, Thomas. And my parents do not control me." Y/n stood her ground, but Thomas was so close she could feel his warm breath on her face. She was trying her best not to show her blush.

Thomas chuckled darkly, "now now, there's no need to lie. I know you care about what your parents think."

Y/n's eyes narrowed, "you know nothing." Her heart was thumping so loud in her ears she swore everyone could hear it.

But Thomas ignored her, "I also know that you feel something for me. I see it in your eyes every time you look in my direction."

Y/n scoffed, "you really do live up to your name, Mad Thomas. I feel no such things for you. Your drunken mind must be playing tricks on you." Her breaths were becoming sharp as Thomas leaned in closer to her.

Thomas chuckled once again, "there is no need to lie, love. I've got secrets of my own." He lifts one of his hands that were pinning her against the tree, gently pushing away some of her hair away from her face, then stroking her cheek lightly.

The action and nickname caused a shiver to go down her spine, her cheeks getting warmer as she kept her gaze on his own, her breath hitching. "A-and what are t-those secrets, Thomas?"

He leaned in more, his lips close to her ear as he whispered, "why should I tell you mine, if you won't admit your own?"

Y/n went silent for just a moment, then sighed. "If I admit mine, would you tell me yours?" She said in almost a whisper.

He leaned his head back to her face, "I will do better. I'll show you." He moved his body closer to her this time, holding her gaze.

It made her weak at the knees, her trying her best not to fall. "Alright, you want to know?"

Thomas nodded.

"I-Im in love with you. I know I shouldn't be, but i can't get those thoughts out of my head. There's just something about you that irks me so much but at the same time makes my head spin."

His eyes widened in surprise, he was only just teasing her after all. He didn't know she actually felt that way about him. He quickly went back to normal, plastering his famous smirk back onto his face, "and what kind of thoughts are those?"

Y/n gulped, "that is something you do not need to know. Now, it is your turn. What is the secret you so desperately want to show me?"

Thomas kept his eyes on her as he slid his hands down to the strings that held the front opening of her dress closed, "my secret is this."

She gasped as he began to pull at them, loosening the top of her dress and having it come undone.

Her hand instinctively reached out to grab his wrist, stopping him. "What are you doing, Thomas?! We aren't even wed!" She whispered.

Thomas shushed her, putting his hand back onto her now-bare chest. "Don't worry, dear."

A shiver went down her spine again, "for a man who listens to God and tells one of my greatest friends practically the devil, you sure do a lot of sinning yourself." She smirked, suddenly gathering courage.

Thomas' eyes narrowed a little, "that is different." He growled.

"Oh? How so?" She began to tease him, though one of his hands were still on her chest, she thought nothing of it.

Thomas' mouth opened and closed, trying to find words but coming up with none. He then pushed himself away from her, turning around to leave.

Before he could, Y/n grabbed his wrist, making him turn towards him. "Now hold on a minute, Thomas. Who said I wanted you to stop? You cannot leave me here like this without having done anything to me." She snarked.

"Why should I? You did try and use my own words against me." He said as he walked closer to her once again.

"Surely you can take a joke?" She questioned with a smile.

Thomas rolled his eyes, then suddenly pushed her against the tree for the second time, leaning in close to her, their lips noses only a few inches apart.

Y/n didn't wipe the smile off her face as she guided one of his hands back to her chest, the sleeves of her dress slowly falling down causing it to slide off of her shoulders slightly.

Thomas smirked at her, his mood quickly changing before he kissed her deeply, hands gliding into places they normally shouldn't be, his lips traveling down to her neck as she leaned her head back on the tree in pure ecstacy, never having had this experience before, it was a new...amazing feeling.

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

Y/n entered the part of the forest where the rest of the teens were, looking around to see Sarah and Hannah missing, while the others were all dancing and hanging around, some even making out with each other.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and looked to see Lizzie, who looked at her with a disapproving yet concerned look.

"You're late. What took you so long?" Lizzie asked.

Y/n's mind thought back to the previous events, a small smile appearing on her face, "I, uh, got... distracted."

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

Aaaaaaa I told you guys I would impulsively write a Mad Thomas fic and here it is! Pls there's just something about Thomas, man. Something about him that I just can't describe it 😩😩😩😩 anyways this turned out longer than I expected it to but its fine qkrhwbebejen3nej

[ilovefandoms102]

Part 12- Shape of My Heart*

Pairing: Rudy Pankow x Plus Size Reader

Summary: Falling in love with someone you can never have is the worst feeling in the world...

Taglist:

@jeyramarie​​​​​​​​​ @drewswannabegirl​​​​​​​​​ @sexualparkour​​​​​​​​ @teamnick​​​​​​​​​ @jiaraendgame​​​​​​​​​ @agirlwholovescoffee​​​​​​​​​ @outerbongs​​​​​​​​​ @jaxxandcomet​​​​​​​​​ @velyssaraptor​​​​​​​​​ @baby-pogue​​​​​​​​​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​​​​​​​​​ @must-be-a-weasley-92​​​​​​​​​ @kaitieskidmore1​​​​​​​​​ @ma10427​​​​​​​​​ @ifilwtmfc​​​​​​​���​ @lasnaro​​​​​​​​​ @justcallmesams​​​​​​​​​ @judayyyw​​​​​​​​​ @lonely-kermit​​​​​​​​​ @gviosca​​​​​​​​​ @iamaunicorn4704​​​​​​​​​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​​​​​​​​​ @fernweh-fangirl​​​​​​​​​ @runway-to-my-aid​​​​​​​​​ @eb15​​​​​​​​​ @hurricane-abigail​​​​​​​​​ @tangledinsparkles​​​​​​​​​ @fandom-phaser​​​​​​​​​ @sunwardsss​​​​​​​​​ @http-cherries​​​​​​​​​ @bibliophilewednesday​​​​​​​​​ @evaporatedrosepetals​​​​​​​​​ @thetomatosaucee​​​​​​​​​ @tomatosauceagent​​​​​​​​​ @redosmo​​​​​​​​​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​​​​​​​​ @obx-direction-sos​​​​​​​​ @mxltifandoms06​​​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​ @gracielou0518​​ @hannahhistorian92​​

Part 11 Part 13

Note: Hope you guys enjoy and as always let me know what you think!

ps if you don’t like choking or roughness during the dirty stuff just skip it. 18+

=============================

Soft kisses on my face caused me to stir the next morning...

I cracked an eye open to see Rudy, his eyes still having that sleepy look. He leaned to kiss my lips, pulling back to brush some hair out of my face. His hair was a mess, pointing out in every direction, but it was a good look on him. I leaned to stretch my arms and legs, moving to wrap myself around him. 

“I thought last night was a dream,” I mumbled, snuggling further into him.

“Me too honestly, as soon as the director said we were taking a break from filming for a while I hopped on a plane here. I couldn’t take another day without seeing your pretty face.” he smiled, chuckling when I hid my red face in his neck.

“I missed everyone, I...I don’t have a lot of friends here. You all are the only people I talk to.” I confessed.

“Bullshit, come on babe.” Rudy scoffed.

“No I...I’ve lost a lot of friends because of the way I look.” I murmured, memories of those awful times flooding my brain.

“Seriously? That’s insane, I couldn’t imagine looking at someone like ‘oh you’re a great friend and all but you look different so we can’t be friends’, like that’s fucking dumb.” he griped, pulling me tighter to him. 

“It’s alright, I don’t need anyone but you and our little group.” I sighed, kissing wherever my lips fell.

“I still hate that you had to go through that, it breaks my heart.” he admitted, nuzzling his face into my shoulder.

“It’s in the past now, I’ll be ok as long as I have you.” I spoke, combing my fingers through his bedhead. 

=========================================

I did have some school work I had to finish up today, but it still irked me that it was cutting into the limited time I had with Rudy. I was just finishing up when Rudy sat next to me, he had an anxious look on his face which made me panic.

"I want you to come to Alaska with me on your spring break, to meet my parents.” he blurted.

“I-I don’t know Ru, I don’t think they will like me.” I mumbled, nervously playing with my fingers.

“Of course they will, why would you think that?” he asked, looking at you quizzically. 

“Because I’m not...I’m not who a famous actor should be with. I’m an embarrassment.” I sighed, looking away from him.

“Stop that shit right now...my parents aren’t like that. Speaking of which, when do I get to meet yours?” he questioned, changing the subject.

“I don’t know, I don’t really talk to them...I’m kind of on my own.” I shrugged, Rudy looked at me with worry in his eyes.

“Baby...” he pouted, curling up next to me.

“What? Why are you pouting?” I chuckled, kissing his forehead.

“I don’t like the thought of you being on your own...” he muttered, placing his chin on my shoulder.

“I was a lone wolf until I met you all, I’ve always just kept to myself.” I said, shutting my laptop down.

“Were people really that mean?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, no one in this town is acceptable unless you have the ideal body type.” I shrugged, laying back so his head fell on my thighs.

“All sizes are beautiful, I hate that our society is like this. There shouldn’t be such a thing as an ‘ideal body type’,” he ranted, flipping over so he could look at me.

“I’m glad you think so babe.” I chuckled, my phone starting to ring.

“Hi y/n,” my mom said after I picked up.

“Hey mom, what’s up?” I asked.

“I was hoping maybe you wanted to come over for dinner tonight?” she inquired.

“Make an extra plate.” I murmured, looking down at Rudy who smiled.

“Who else is coming?” she wondered.

“My boyfriend.” I spoke nervously.

================================

I paced back and forth in my living room, ready to go to my parents. However, I was more nervous than ever and I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was not going to be a good night. Rudy looked good as ever, dressed in a black button down with khakis. I wore a tshirt dress my mom got me for my birthday a few years ago with some flats, keeping the hair and makeup low maintenance since it was just my parents.

“Baby why are you so stressed? It’s just your parents, we don’t have to stay long if it makes you that anxious.” Rudy said, trying to calm me down.

“I just have this really bad feeling...” I whispered, rubbing my arms.

Rudy stood from the couch, wrapping his arms around me. He kissed my nose, making me giggle. 

“It’s going to be ok, what could possibly happen?” he questioned, pushing me lightly towards the door.

Boy how I wish he hadn’t of said that....

================================

I pulled into my childhood home, my hands already starting to shake. Rudy opened my door for me, taking my hand in his. He kissed the back of it, giving me a reassuring smile. My mother came out on the porch, smiling as she caught sight of us. Rudy smiled wide as my mother took him in a hug, introducing herself.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’m Rudy Pankow.” Rudy spoke, my mother moving so I could lead us inside.

Rudy and I sat at the table while my mom was finishing up dinner, my father yet to make an appearance. My leg bounced nervously, biting at my nails I stared at the table. Rudy grabbed my hand from my mouth, keeping it in his. He took his other hand to place it on my leg, his thumb rubbing gentle circles to soothe me. 

“Who’s this?” my father sneered, my cheeks heating up in embarrassment and anger.

“Rudy Pankow sir, it’s nice to meet you.” Rudy spoke, standing to shake my father’s hand.

“Are you one of y/n’s friends?” my father asked skeptically, shaking Rudy’s hand.

“Boyfriend actually,” Rudy smiled, looking at me adoringly. My mother entered the dining room, sitting the food on the table.

“Boyfriend? My y/n? HA yeah, maybe once she loses a few pounds.” my father chuckled, Rudy’s face falling. 

“Can we please have a nice dinner?” my mother said, staring daggers at my father.

My parents took their seats across from Rudy and I, scooping a helping on their plates. I picked around at my food, gripping Rudy’s hand tighter than I meant to. 

“So, y/n...when did this start?” my mom asked, pointing at Rudy and I.

“About two and a half months ago when I went to LA.” I answered, glancing up to see my father staring at me quizzically.

“Let me get this straight, this isn’t a joke? You actually like my daughter?” my father questioned, my mother hissing something to him.

“Um no, I’ve liked y/n for over a year before we even started dating. I don’t understand why you think y/n couldn’t be with me?” Rudy inquired, making my death grip on his hand somehow tighter.

“Well son, it’s no secret y/n is well...not exactly who people would picture you with.” my father answered.

“Why?” he asked.

“Rudy stop.” I whispered, but he shook his head at me.

“I guess if you’re going to make me say it, she’s fat.” my father shrugged, my heart clenching in my chest.

“You say that about your own daughter?” Rudy growled.

“Just speaking the truth.” my father said.

“If you were speaking the truth sir, you’d say that y/n is the most beautiful woman. You’d say any man would be lucky to have her because she is an incredible person, a person I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Rudy rambled, making my eyes wide.

“What?” I whispered, my mother choked on her food.

“It’s um, a little soon to be talking about that don’t you think? Barely three months of dating and you want to spend forever together? It just seems a little impractical.” my mother pointed out.

“Rudy, let’s go.” I huffed, scooting my chair out.

“Y/n, sit back down.” my father griped.

I ignored them, stomping out of the house. I was fucking pissed at them for embarrassing me like that. I sat in my car as I waited for Rudy, on the verge of crying. Rudy came out a few minutes later, frowning as he got in the car with me.

“I’m sorry Ru,” I mumbled, laying my head on the steering wheel.

“Nothing to be sorry about. I wanted to punch the shit out of your dad though.” he admitted, shaking his head.

================================

“You know I really like that dress.” Rudy said as we got out of the car.

“Thanks,” I chuckled, walking into the apartment.

“I think it would look better on the floor though.” he suggested, my insides heating up. 

“Oh you do?” I asked, the sultriness in my voice shocking me.

“Take it off for me.” he demanded, unbuttoning a few buttons on his shirt.

I started to take it off, getting just above my undies before stopping. I walked to my room instead, kicking my shoes off. I heard loud footsteps behind me, excitement building in my belly. I gasped as Rudy took a hold of my arm, whirling me around to face him. His eyes grew a shade darker, making me squirm before him.

“Hmmm, that was not very nice.” he growled, his hand coming to wrap around my throat. I moaned, a smirk forming on his lips. 

He walked me back to the bed, throwing me roughly to a sitting position. He stripped me himself, pushing my chest so that I was laying down. Rudy yanked off my underwear, inserting his fingers into me. I gasped loudly, wiggling on the bed. He slapped my thigh, a low rumble came from deep in his chest.

“No noise, no moving. You move or make a sound, you don’t get to cum.” he barked, a whimper catching in my throat.

He stripped himself, getting on his knees. He buried his face into my heat, sucking and licking all around the places that made me tick the most. I had to bite down on my hand to keep from screaming, using all my willpower to keep my muscles still. Rudy inserted his tongue into me, flicking it around. His fingers came up to rub my clit, my teeth biting harder into my hand. 

I couldn’t hold it, I involuntarily let out a moan so loud I’m sure my neighbors heard. Rudy stopped immediately, tsking as he pulled away.

“You were doing so good baby,” he sighed.

“No Rudy don’t.” I whined, earning another slap to my thigh.

“I don’t take orders from you sweetheart.” he snapped, a whine leaving my throat.

He began to slowly and tortuously rub me, making my legs jump. He inserted his fingers at the same time, moving as slow as possible. I frustratedly moved on my bed, letting out a grunt. 

Then he began to move his fingers faster, pounding them into me. I yelped, my legs trying to close in on him. He held them back, laughing as I cried out to him. Just as I was about to cum, he stopped. My hips bucked from the bed, my fists hitting the mattress. 

Rudy grabbed my hips, flipping me over on my stomach. He jerked my hips up so that I was on all fours, my hands curled into my sheets nervously. He slapped my ass hard, a strangled yelp leaving my lips. He leaned down to slurp at the wetness seeping from me, my upper body almost collapsed on the bed. It was so hot, but it was also starting to make me wish I had just listened to him in the first place. 

He inserted his tongue into me again, shaking his head to bury his face deeper into me. The facial hair on his chin rubbed my clit, making me gasp loudly. 

“Baby please please let me cum, I’m sorry.” I moaned, feeling myself start to come close to the edge again.

He moved his tongue to swipe at my clit, taking it between his lips to suck on it. My legs started to shake as I came close to snapping, my breathing picking up before Rudy pulled away. I put my face in the sheets as I screamed in frustration. 

Rudy yanked me up by my hair, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

“You’ll get to cum when I want you to, if that is at all tonight.” he hummed deeply, his deep voice churning my insides. 

“Fuck,” I groaned, slamming my head back down.

He plunged his length inside of me, cursing as he came to grip my ass cheeks. Rudy moved his hands to hold my hips, sliding all the way before ramming himself back in. He did that a few times, a choked moan leaving my throat. I cried out when he began a to roughly thrust inside of me, grabbing a hold of my hair to keep my head up. 

The sound of skin slapping filled the room along with the pants and grunts from the two of us. He moved one hand to pinch my clit, a squeal leaving my lips as he began to rub it between his fingers.

“Do you think you deserve it pretty girl? Do you think you deserve to cum on me?” he gritted, his fingers burning my scalp as he yanked my head back further.

“Yes please baby, I can’t take it anymore. I need it, I want you to make me cum.” I whimpered, hoping that would spark a fire in him.

He pulled out, flipping me back over to my back. 

“I want to see your face when you scream who’s fucking you this good.” he growled.

And scream I did because Rudy plowed himself harder than before, angling our hips so that he could hit that special spot that had me shaking in a matter of seconds. I scratched at his shoulders, trickles of blood beginning to form on his tan skin. 

“Please let me cum, let me cum, let me cum.” I begged, giving him my best puppy dog eyes.

He brought his hand back to rub viciously at my clit, my back arching off the bed. My breathing became more labored, Rudy’s grunts becoming louder. 

“Ok baby, cum.” he spoke.

My eyes rolled back into my head as I came, my whole body locking up. Rudy shouted as I clamped down on his member, his hips stuttering as he stilled inside of me. Ropes of him jetted inside of me, but I was still coming down from my orgasm. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Rudy breathed, a breathy laugh left my lips.

“That was hot.” I panted, wiping the sweat off my forehead.

“I say we shower and do it again.” he smirked, pulling me off the bed.

“You are not torturing me like that again!” I shouted as he dragged me to my shower.

[six-of-brides]

Wretched And Divine: FEAR Transmission 1: Stay Close

Co-writer: @x0-emoidiot-x0​

Person we reached out to for help (I have no idea what else to call them) @anxiousreject​

Heather

As I creep silently between the tall stone buildings of the FEAR headquarters, I try to be as quiet as possible. I can pretend to be here for other reasons, but if they knew my true intentions, they’d be after me for sure. There would be no chance of survival.

I hope my kin made it out after running away... Did they find someplace safe? Did someone take them in? Someone who is on our side? Someone who can help them stay safe? There’s no guarantee I’ll be able to tell without seeing it myself. Right now, I do not have time for that. I have a mission, and I’ll worry about them after. I’m already on a tight schedule, and I can’t figure out where they are right now. Right now, worrying is time I don’t have. All I can do now, is hope and pray they’re safe.

“Can I help you, miss?”

I freeze in my tracks.

Play it cool, Heather

“Yes, actually. I need to know where the army is. I have some information on the Wild Ones. I need to get that into their database.”

traitor, traitor, traitor I think to myself.

No, that’s not true. Think of your goal. Find the army’s whereabouts. Get the information to Prophet. Don’t get caught

“Do you know anyone that works with the rebels?”

“No.”

Of course you do. Your husband is probably off wreaking havoc on their forces

“Do you work with the Wild Ones?”

I mock offense. I think I took a cue from my daughter.

Good lord, I miss her.

“How dare you say such blasphemy! Of course I do not work with those traitors!”

You don’t know if he’s alive. For all you know, he died in a hole underground the minute you turned your back on him.

I guess that’s a lie. I do take information to them so they know what to do. Tonight, I’ll try and get some answers. I’ll ask the Wild Ones what they know about the location of my husband and daughter at the moment. I just hope they know something. They might know about Abigail, but you’re never supposed to give your real name as an adult, they probably won’t know anything else. 

“Wherever Abigail is, my husband is never too far away.” I remind myself.

I’m a spy, I don’t pretend to join the side of FEAR. As far as my parents are concerned, I’m asleep right now, when I’m actually out past curfew stealing information.

If only you could see your little girl now

Suddenly, I hear a voice over an intercom, meant so only the others working here can hear it, I know from the last few times I’ve been here. I get out a pad of paper that I find lying around. This will tell me their next plan of action, I can get it out to the Wild Ones, let them know what they need to do next. I listen closely and prepare to take in the next words I’m about to hear.

“We expect a battle for humanity is about to begin. With each uprising, a fake sense of safety will ignite in you, an unseen shadow will slip from doubt towards those who protect you and defend you. But the thoughts slip away, and remain calm. Stay close to FEAR. Only we can protect.”

The information on this loudspeaker is all bullshit meant to keep the soldiers of FEAR in check, so they don’t question their positions. This is their only way of knowing what they’re going to do. 

They expect a rebel attack soon, they could be ready for anything. They don’t say anything about moving into what they suspect is rebel occupied territory, but they are talking about the battle in general. This means they most likely expect an attack on their end, so they are prepared to defend.

I have to get this information out to The Prophet. A lot of running, even more quiet. I can’t be seen or heard by anyone. Once again, if I get caught, I get killed. 

“Ah, Heather. Thought I’d find you here.”

Are there more people up this time of night?

“Why are you here?” It comes out more sharply than I intended.

His horns bang on the door. I restrain the laugh.

He looks at my arm. The ink is showing.

His mask prevents any emotion coming out of his face, but I can still feel the disappointment.

“Still haven’t gotten that removed.”

“I don’t feel the need.”

“You know tattoos are a surefire ticket to hell.”

Pretty sure the Bible was referring to pagan symbols, but okay. I guess.

He goes, and I can finally breathe easily.

I get the file I need. It lists all the supplies at FEAR’s disposal for battles. Quietly putting it in my coat, I sneak out.

I start walking quietly through the hallways and corridors of the main building before I sneak out the door and through the gates. From there, I start walking back in-between the buildings. I need to be extra quiet here, because the guards always patrol these areas, looking for people like me.

I see one walking in my direction, and I instantly duck into the shadows. They can’t see me here, or at least, I don’t think so. The guard keeps walking this way and looks into the shadow. My heart is beating hard, so loudly that it’s the only thing I can hear. This calms down when the guard turns away and keeps walking.

“Are the supplies here?” He says to someone else I can’t see. I scramble for my paper.

“Yep. We got ‘Em good the last time. Thanks to Deviant. Then we knocked him out and killed the bastard.”

knew he was no good, that traitor. Glad he’s gone

“We can’t let them get away. They’re planning something. I can feel it.”

“We should go there now.”

The guard shakes his head. “We only have slightly more soldiers than they do. We need to wait.”

“I desperately want them in Hell now.”

“So do I. But if we go now, we won’t accomplish doing God’s work in getting rid of these Heathens.”

When the guard is finally out of sight, I walk away and keep walking until I get closer to the outskirts of the city. At this point, I just start running. I don’t need to be quiet anymore, but I do need to be fast. This information needs to get to them as quickly as possible, so they can plan their next steps carefully with as much time as they can get.

The roads begin to fade into vast amounts of sand. Nothing but sand and dirt now. Definitely getting more out into the desert. I run faster until I run out of breath. When I stop to take a breath, I look up and see the rebel camp in front of me. I’m getting closer. I keep running until I reach Prophet’s tent, the largest one around.

I walk in and see him staring into space. Somehow, his lipstick has been unaffected by the sand.

“Prophet.”

He quickly jumps up and grabs a knife before he notices it’s me.

“Oh, thank God. It’s just you.”

“I’m just as scared.”

“I’m not frightened.”

lies

“FEAR isn’t planning an attack, but they’re prepared for us to attack them. You don’t have to prepare for their immediate presence, but you need to prepare for what may come from attacking them. And here..” I hand over the file to him “is a record of what they have. You actually have an advantage on recourses in a few areas.”

He looks as if he may now be scheming a plan for their next battle. I hope everything goes well for them, they’re our biggest hope to defeat FEAR.

“Also, on a side note. Your makeup game is on point.”

Thank you.” He blushes. He actually blushes.

I guess he’s not used to it.

“I still remember everyone’s comments.”

There’s a pause of silence.

“People suck.”

“I know.” He says.

Another pause.

“Anyway, thanks again.”

I decide to ask him about my husband and daughter.

“Hey, um..can I ask you a favor?”

He closes the file and looks up at me.

“Sure. What is it?”

“I need you to find someone. Black hair that’s shaved on one side, narrow face, blue eyes..”

“Savior’s with us.” Prophet grins. “Abigail looks like her father.”

“She does.” My smile grows bigger.

I go through the information in my head.

They’re here, fighting alongside them. My husband has taken on a new name, he goes by Savior, Abigail kept her real name. I breathe a sigh of relief. 

“You can see them, if you want. I don’t think there’s anything Savior wants more than to see you.”

It’s so tempting. Even a week apart is unbearable. But I can’t.

I wish I had time to talk more, but I have to hurry back. I have a bigger chance of being caught in the day, and my parents will at least get suspicious if they find that I’m not home.

I start running again until I get back into the city. I don’t have to be as sneaky, but still have to be quiet. There are still people willing to report me for being out so late. I keep walking, ignoring the pain in my feet from doing so much walking and running until I get back home.

When I reach the house, I decide to sneak in through my bedroom window. I’ll wake someone up if I sneak in through the door instead. I get inside, close the window, and check the time. Two-fourty-five. About four hours until the sun comes up. That leaves me with plenty of time to rest.

I can do less worrying about where they are, but now I’m worried about what’s going to happen to them during battles. Abigail’s just a kid, they probably wouldn’t have her fighting, but now that they have “Savior” as a soldier, he could get hurt easily. I don’t know if he’s just a normal soldier, though. After all, he does have those powers. New ones, even. That would put him in a higher position than before, greater risk of being captured.

Then my thoughts get the best of me.

The FEAR officials have always wanted to get their hands on one of the Wild Ones’ higher-ups. They want Prophet because he’s the leader, but they claim that any one of them would work. I‘m even more worried about what could happen to them. Well, I can rest easy knowing that they’re alive and with someone trustworthy…

[raisedbyfandomwolves]

prompt: write something bad :)

YOU THOUGHT YOU HAD ME WITH THIS.

BUT YOU WERE WRONG.

I TRIUMPHED.

MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

...

(clears throat)

Anyway, enjoy.

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom called Cryptun and it was ruled by the kind and beautiful Princess Ka-rah. Princess Ka-rah was as kind as she was beautiful and everyone in her kingdom loved her because she was the best princess ever and she made sure they were always happy.

One day, Princess Ka-rah was travelling to a village on the border of her kingdom when she found a handsome young man lying on the side of the road. He looked hurt so Princess Ka-rah decided to bring him back to her castle and help him get better.

When the handsome young man finally woke up, he told Princess Ka-rah that his name was Mi-key and he had been attacked by evil pirates who had stolen everything he had. Princess Ka-rah felt bad for him so she told him that he could stay with her until he was all better and could go home.

While Mi-key was getting better in Princess Ka-rah's castle, he caused a lot of trouble like a naughty stray puppy. Mi-key played a lot of pranks and made Princess Ka-rah very angry a lot of times but the pranks were actually really funny and no one ever got hurt and also he would say the funniest jokes ever and she would laugh until she forgot why she was angry at him.

After another one of Mi-key's pranks one morning, Princess Ka-rah was chasing him through the palace garden to scold him when suddenly a giant robot T-Rex appeared and attacked her. Just as it was going to really hurt her, Mi-key flew into the air and used his magic cape to defeat the giant robot T-Rex.

Princess Ka-rah was very happy he had saved her and actually she secretly like-liked him a lot so she asked him if he wanted to stay with her forever. Mi-key was also very happy because he secretly like-liked her a lot too so he said yes and the giant robot T-Rex became their pet.

While they were having a party to celebrate Mi-key staying, however, a dark cloud of evil magic appeared in the room and two ugly evil-looking women came out of it. The older ugly evil-looking woman turned out to be Queen Le-xe of the nearby kingdom of Daxxim and the other one was her daughter Princess Lee-na. Queen Le-xe was actually the evil stepmother of Mi-key who was actually the prince of Daxxim and she was there to kill him so that her daughter Princess Lee-na could rule Daxxim instead.

Princess Ka-rah was very angry at Prince Mi-key for not telling her that he was actually a prince but Prince Mi-key told her that he had been hurt that day by evil pirates that Queen Le-xe had sent to kill him. He told her that he had been scared to tell her the truth because he didn't want to go home and get killed but also because he like-liked her a lot the moment he saw her and wanted to stay with her instead.

Even though she was still a little angry at Prince Mi-key, Princess Ka-rah decided to forgive him because she was super kind and because she still like-liked him a lot too so she told Queen Le-xe that she wasn't going to let the ugly evil stepmother queen or her ugly evil daughter hurt him.

Queen Le-xe and Princess Lee-na were very angry so they decided to try and kill Princess Kara too but Princess Kara and Prince Mi-key used their magic capes to fight the evil queen and princess and they won. Then the giant robot T-Rex which had also been sent by the evil Queen Le-xe to kill Prince Mikey chomp-chomp-chomped the evil queen and princess because they were really really mean to him last time.

Now that Queen Le-xe and Princess Lee-na were dead, Prince Mi-key was safe and he could go home to become the king of Daxxim. Even though she was very happy for him, Princess Ka-rah was also very sad because she didn't want to say goodbye to Prince Mi-key.

Then Prince Mi-key said he didn't want to leave her so he asked her to marry him and bring their kingdoms together. Princess Ka-rah was really really happy to hear that so of course she said yes and they had a big beautiful wedding and lived happily ever after and had lots of beautiful babies.

---xXx---

“The end,” Abigail finished reading with a proud smile on her face before looking up at her parents who were sitting on the couch in front of her. “What do you think of my story, Mommy, Daddy?”

Both Kara and Mike could only blink, stupefied, as they tried to find the words to answer their daughter. “Well... it's, um... it's very... unique,” Kara ventured hesitantly. “Just, um... I just have a few questions?”

Mike covertly pinched her thigh with just enough strength to get her attention. “Kara, are you seriously going to critique our six-year-old daughter's writing assignment?”

“I'm not critiquing! I just want to clarify a few things!” Kara hissed angrily before plastering a smile on her face and turning back towards an earnest and oblivious Abigail. “So, um... Why is... Shouldn't Princess Ka-rah be a queen if she's ruling her kingdom?”

“But princesses are cooler than queens, Mommy!” Abigail protested with a frown.

“I... I see...” It was only then that Kara remembered they'd had a Disney Princesses movie marathon during Abigail's sleepover party just a week ago. “Okay, um... So how was it Princess Ka-rah didn't recognise... um, Prince Mi-key if he was from a kingdom so close to hers? I mean, she had to have seen him at least once before, right?”

“Oh, she's just silly like that,” Abigail giggled.

Mike made a shoddy attempt at disguising his snicker with a cough that turned into a pained wheeze when Kara ground her heel into his foot.

“A-And... why a giant robot T-Rex?” Kara asked next, knowing that her husband would be even more insufferable if she asked more questions about Princess Ka-rah's 'silliness'.

Abigail beamed. “Because robots are cool and dinosaurs are cool so robot dinosaurs are twice as cool!”

“...I see.” It struck Kara then that 'because it's cool' was probably going to be the reason for all the random elements in her daughter's story. “Is that... Is that why Prince Mi-key suddenly has a magic cape too?”

“That's because he's a superhero!” Abigail cheerfully corrected her mother as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Mike instantly sat up straight. “Wait, he's a prince and a superhero?”

“Uh huh!”

Kara glared at her husband and the stupid self-satisfied grin growing on his face, all too sure exactly what he was thinking. “Well then, that means Princess Ka-rah is a superhero too since she also has a magic cape, right?” A magic cape she didn't have until that last moment out of the blue, she added mentally.

Abigail nodded vigorously, too caught up in her enthusiasm to notice the looks her parents were giving each other. “That's another reason they're perfect together!”

“...Okay...” Deciding that she was probably going to get even stranger answers if she asked any more questions about this particular aspect of the story, Kara moved on but not before throwing one last glare in Mike's direction. “So... um, one last question: Was it really necessary for, uh, Queen Le-xe and Princess Lee-na to be, um... eaten by the... giant robot T-Rex?”

“But they're evil, Mommy!” Abigail insisted in a way that only a six year old could. “Evil people should get eaten by giant robot T-Rexes! Then there would be less evil people in the world and the robot T-Rexes won't go hungry!”

It was at that point that Kara finally gave up and decided to let things be... until she heard Mike let out another poorly disguised snicker. That was it. If she had to suffer – okay, so maybe she had brought it on herself but that was not the point – then so did he. “So what did you think of the story, honey?” she asked in a voice that dripped with false sweetness.

Mike predictably choked once he realised both his wife and daughter were now looking at him very intensely for different reasons. “Uh... I've, uh... never heard anything like it before,” he floundered for a bit at first before inspiration struck and he beamed. “It's very avant-garde for sure.”

Abigail's eager expression turned into one of adorable confusion. “Evan... card...?” she tried and failed to repeat what her father had said. “What does that mean, Daddy?”

The smile on Mike's face instantly vanished. “Uhhh... It means rich people will pay a lot of money for it!” he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

Just like that, Abigail's smile returned in full force. “So it's good?”

Once again, Mike was rendered speechless and even Kara had to blink at their daughter's conclusion. “Uhhh... yes...?” he offered uncertainly.

“Yay! Thanks, Mommy, Daddy!” With a great big cheer, Abigail ran over to hug both her parents in turn. “I'm going to go draw pictures to go with my story now!”

For several long minutes after Abigail had run off to her room, both Kara and Mike could do nothing more than stare blankly at the spot where their daughter had been standing.

Unsurprisingly, Kara was the first to speak. “She's not going to... draw us, is she?”

Mike levelled a flat look at her. “Considering the names of her characters are nearly identical to ours, what do you think?”

“Oh god...” she groaned in embarrassment as she buried her face in her hands. “Her teachers are going to think- I don't even know what they're going to think about us now.”

“You're overreacting,” he brushed off her fretting breezily. “At most, they'll probably chalk it up to how much she loves us or something. Which, you know, is pretty true since she clearly thinks we're cool enough to be royalty and superheroes at the same time.”

“Of course you'd focus on that part...” she muttered accusingly. “I bet you didn't even notice that our daughter seems to have forgotten the 'stranger danger' talk we had with her if she's writing about bringing home random guys lying on the side of the road as a good thing...”

“Kara, it's a story that didn't even make sense most of the time! I mean, pirates on land? A giant robot T-Rex? Magic capes appearing out of nowhere? You're really taking it way too seriously.”

“Am not! I-I'm just... concerned about what it might mean! Mike, our daughter is writing about... about people getting essentially murdered in a very gruesome manner!”

“Evil people, Kara. And they're just characters.”

“Characters very obviously based on two people we know!”

“Two people we know and really don't like, I might add. Which is probably where she got the inspiration. Although I'm not sure how to feel about the idea of a fictional Lex Luthor in drag being my evil stepmother...”

“Mike, would you please focus?! Our daughter's apparently in favour of some kind of... extreme vigilante justice!”

“Again, it's just a story. Besides, if you can fantasise about throwing your sadistic boss into the sun with powers you don't have to blow off steam, I think we can let our daughter imagine obviously evil people getting eaten by giant robot T-Rexes that don't exist.”

“I should've known you'd react like this. Or should I say I should've expected nothing less especially since she probably got this from you?”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You! You're such a... a... weirdo sometimes! Like how you insist that orange juice should go well on cereal just because it's normal to have them both in a single breakfast!”

“Yeah, well, you married and had a kid with this weirdo so what does that say about you?”

Abigail paid no attention to the sound of her parents bickering in the living room. After all, she already knew that this fight would end the same way all the others had in the past: They would get all kissy-kissy, lock themselves in their bedroom, make a lot of funny noises and then be really happy for the rest of the day.

Sure enough, the sound of their bedroom door clicking shut followed not long after but by then Abigail was too engrossed drawing the wedding of Princess Ka-rah and Prince Mi-key to notice.

[redeadepression]

Just Ask | John Marston Fic

~~

This started as a drabble but now it’s a small oneshot. This is absolutely NOT the fetish fic I was talking about posting recently! 

I can’t get away from thoughts of this AU lately. I’m thinking about making this a small series if anyone is interested. John’s inner monologue of all his failures (set in my Modern AU) and interactions with his friends and family/their reactions to his situation.

trigger warning: implied/referenced attempted suicide, depression, anxiety, mental health issues.

Characters: John Marston, Arthur Morgan.  Setting: My Modern AU Words: 1503 Summery: John gets a visitor during his stay in the hospital .

~~

PLEASE READ THE TRIGGER WARNINGS!

John stared at the yellow wall with glazed over eyes. Not really seeing the room in front of him at all. Just the colour that was currently being used as a backdrop for all of his failings as they played out in front of his eyes in a continuous loop.

Yellow was supposed to make him feel happy. At least that was the reasoning he had come up with the first time he’d been shoved in one of these rooms and frowned at the use of such a saturated colour in a such a small space.

It made him feel claustrophobic. Smothered by the walls and his memories. The rhythmic clicking of nurses shoes walking up and down the hallway every minute or so just adding to the monotony of his stay.

Every now and then someone would start to yell.

That was fun.

He had decided as he strained to listen to what was being said a couple of rooms down. Entertaining himself at the expense of someone else’s mystery.

He didn’t feel too bad about it. Knowing full well that his neighbors were listening to him when it was his turn to scream.

John sat bolt upright at the knock on his doorframe. The nurses didn’t announce themselves and he hadn’t expected a visitor. His heart raced uncomfortably in his chest. He had been so caught up in his own mind he hadn’t even noticed someone standing there.

He had already been here for four days without hearing a word from any of his loved ones.

He didn’t need them.

He had decided on the second night. When his tears had long since dried but the suffocating sobs remained. Sucking air from his lungs and making feel as though he was going to die as he struggled and failed to regain his composure.

John looked towards the door, placing his hand on his chest briefly in a futile effort to calm himself down.

He’d expected to see Abigail. Despite their current situation he hoped she’d still care enough to come and see him. But after four long, lonely days he was starting to lose hope that she had any love for him left.

John looked away from the door quickly, realising his visitor was Arthur. Nose scrunching and hands shaking as he heard the other man’s footsteps grow closer to his bed.

Of course it was Arthur. It would have been too simple for it to be Abigail or Karmen.

John didn’t look up as he heard the older man grunt as he lowered himself into the chair next to his bed.

Arthur sat patiently waiting for John to address him.

“What are you doing here?” John asked after a long while. Unable to look up from his hands as he heard his brother sigh in contemplation.

“I could ask you the same thing, really.” Arthur said after a moment.

John glared at the blanket over his legs, picking aggressively at his one jagged fingernails to keep his attention away from the other man.

“I’m a patient.” He replied bitterly, scowling as Arthur chuckled at his words.

“You’re a fucking smart-ass is what you are.” He drawled, leaning back in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest and took a moment to look his brother over properly.

He had dark circles under his eyes and his cheek bones looked sharp like they could cut glass. He looked tired. His skin a greyish tinge that reminded Arthur a little too much of the last time he had laid eyes on a corpse.

“You know why I’m here.” John spat after it became clear Arthur was not going to speak again. His tone was filled with venom but his voice was weak. “Don’t make me say it.” He said, softer. He wasn’t mad at Arthur.

He was ashamed.

“I know.” Arthur said softly, his tone a lot calmer than John had expected it to be. “You scared me.” He admitted quietly.

A statement that caught John’s attention. His eyes finally finding Arthurs for a fleeting second before he averted them. Forcing himself to look away and out the window next to his bed as they began to sting.

“How did you find me?” John asked, voice croaky as he held back his emotions.

“Abigail.” Arthur answered simply. John closed his eyes briefly in annoyance.

She couldn’t visit but she could gossip.

There was a long silence as John lamented his current predicament. Arthur was a great brother. But there were few things John hated more in the world than appearing weak in front of him.

“I told you to call me.” Arthur said firmly, his tone shifting to that of a concerned parent. “The first time.” He clarified after a second.

“I did.” John said simply, eyes not wavering from their position in the same way his voice did.

“You didn’t tell me anything was wrong.” Arthur said gruffly, sitting forward in his chair and resting his forearms on his knees. He clasped his hands together in between his legs and hung his head for a moment.

John knew that Arthur meant well with his offer. But he acted as though admitting he needed someone was the easiest thing in the world. As if asking for help was something John should just do regardless of the time or place.

Arthur exhaled long and loud before sitting up straight again and pursing his lips. “Dammit John, you can’t keep doing this.” He whispered harshly, shaking his head.

John finally turned to face him, eyes watering heavily as they stared at one another for too long. The silence dragging until John couldn’t take it anymore.

“You were busy.” He whispered, voice broken. Arthur’s brows knitted together in a frown.

“Not too busy to keep you alive you fucking idiot.” Arthur growled, voice raising involuntarily as his emotions began to boil over.

He hated this. He loved John but he hated being too scared to miss his call. He hated playing the guessing game every time they spoke. Was he just calling to chat or did he need him?

Arthur wasn’t so vain as to assume that anything John was going to do to himself was a direct result of him not being near his phone. But he wasn’t sure he could live with the guilt if John had of succeeded in his task. Knowing that he’d been too busy to really listen to the tone of John’s voice. That he’d hung up without asking the real question.

Are you okay?

John’s eyes darted behind Arthur as he spoke. His brother turned to see a nurse stopped in the doorway, observing them. He turned back to John, watching as the other man’s tears finally spilled over.

Arthur felt a pang of guilt. He loved his brother. He hated making him cry.

He took a calming breath and held out his hands in surrender.

“So you just came here to yell at me?” John asked after he’d watched the nurse continue on her route. One of his hands coming up to rub at his wet eyes before joining his other, fisting in the blanket on his lap.

“No.”

“Then why are you here?” John asked, more urgently than he meant to, just barely holding it together.

More guilt. His heart ached at the pain in John’s voice. He needed some time.

“I came here to tell you I’m glad you’re still alive.” Arthur said flatly. “And if I can figure out how to do so without calling you a fucking idiot I’ll come back. But right now this is the best you’re going to get.” He said steadily as he pushed himself up from his chair.

He flipped open the flap on his satchel and pulled out a few things. John eyed him from the side as he opened the draw of the empty bedside table and placed two cans of energy drink and a chocolate bar inside. Closing it quickly to hide it from the staff before placing some clothes, a portable gaming console and a few games on top of the stand.

“I need to cool off.” Arthur said as he closed his bag, a suspicious burning in the back of his throat. He cleared it loudly to try and rid himself of the feeling. “Call me if you need anything else. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“But…” John breathed, unable to say the word loud enough to be heard.

He watched Arthur go without a goodbye. Tears running down his cheeks as the older man disappeared quickly down the hallway. Leaving him alone in the sterile room once more.

John tried to swallow the lump in his throat. Rubbing frantically at his eyes and wishing he hadn’t been such a prick.

Maybe he would have stayed longer.

He shifted himself down in his bed, lying on the pillow and staring at the yellow ceiling as ragged breathing and suffocating sobs returned to him.

It was going to be a long couple of weeks.

End.

~~

If you liked this please let me know what you thought! Would you want to read more of this? Who would you like to see John interact with? Do you want more backstory? 

[scarfacemarston]

Abigail shits on him for reading on his break? Something she pushed him to learn to do when he was a kid, don't get me wrong, Johns an asshole too, theyre both shitty? She obviously loves the kid and does what she can for him (as all parents should John) but to use that against the kid when he's older, I hate acting like calling a kid ungrateful etc isnt harmful, guilting them cause the parent looked after them is so shit? Her writing seems to get the strong woman whos rly just 'mean' is all

Please don’t take this as an insult or that I want to start a fight - but I personally feel like you’re nitpicking and just not going to see her point of view. I talked about how badly Abigial was bullied by a lot of the gang, her hardships, being a single mother,  how John had a lot of hardships and stepped up, defended her “Harshness” compared to Bonnie. etc.  I don’t think we’re going to agree and that’s okay.

 You’re bringing up conversations that are small and don’t represent the character as a whole. Even then, they are very benign examples. I personally just watched a huge compilation of Abigail and Jack interactions and again - there’s nothing really there except how much she loves him and actually spoils him. Her biggest parenting mistake with him is spoiling and coddling him too much which John points out. (She does so with good intentions, of course.) It’s why John and Abigail eventually work out as good parents. One is able to be softer in some instances and the other can be more firm in other instances. You haven’t brought up once how much she literally spoils him in love, kindness, and material objects when she can.  Remember, Abigail is still a super young woman going through her own trauma and trying to keep an entire ranch together - a lot of times by herself.

There isn’t really anything about her shitting on him as you say. At all. I watched it. How is she so bad for telling her son to do chores? Would you say the same if it was John?

In fact, John actually says multiple times that Jack isn’t doing enough chores and that he shouldn’t be reading so much. Abigail is the one who defends Jack and says that he can go off and play. She’s literally just mothering. It’s her job. John says the same in rdr 1, too. So maybe Jack is just being a lazy teen sometimes. It happens. It’s parenting.  I don’t know your age or your relationship status or life experiences.  These all shape people in unique ways of course. But I personally have taught a lot of preschoolers and later went on to tutor high schoolers and college-age kids. I’ve worked with kids of all ages for 14+ years not counting family members.

 Abigail is doing nothing wrong with Jack at either age group as far as her direct parenting goes besides the accidental spoiling and even then - it’s understandable and far from the worse case I’ve seen.  Does having arguments with John in front of Jack a good thing? No, But that’s her worst thing and that’s something John ALSO takes part in. Other than that, she hasn’t done anything wrong and once John gets into the groove of parenting, he doesn’t do anything wrong. They are just normal.

Ask other parents or those who take care of kids. They’d probably support Abigail and John’s behaviors once he does start parenting. 

But I really just think that since you’re not into Abigail at all - you’re not going to find anything you like about her. Just the things you dislike. It doesn’t matter what I say. Besides, it’s your opinion at the end of the day. It’s okay to not like someone. 

But I will say this, it’s very easy to forget that these are (fictional) outlaws. Let’s see ANY of us go through their challenges and see how we turn out. I wouldn’t turn out well and you wouldn’t either. We would all do shitty things, too. We do shitty things because we’re human. Give them both slack. This is a game. You will see issues in any game or movie or show. If you ever see someone like John or Abigail parenting - be careful about judging people. You don’t know their story. I hear a lot of fans who are parents or take of kids relating to John and Abi so you may see similar behavior.

[misterewrites]

Unlikely Allies (Welcome to the Underground

Hey everyone! E here hoping you are all safe and sound. Sorry for the delay. The original plan was for me to update every two week because of my various responsibilities but a lot of things ended up happening so I had to delay this chapter a bit. Also there has been a shift in my job that might affect the release date of this chapters as well so hopefully I can keep up the whole two week deadline but as a word of warning delays might happen.

Thank you for reading this project of mine. I really appreciate it and I am so glad it's doing so well. Feel free to Reblog, share, comment all that jazz I love reading them and remember this story is also on Ao3. Stay safe, wear your mask, wash your hands and take care of yourself and your love ones! Have a great week! E is out!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814297/chapters/71425041

Story so far: One day into the Underground proper and Abigail has already been chased by strange creatures into an unexplored tunnel and a creepy house that screams trouble. Trapped within, the group runs into a paladin wandering the darken halls. Despite the stranger's calm demeaner, Oliver claims he's nothing but trouble and little does the group know how correct he is. 

_____

“No by the way” Oliver narrowed his eyes at the man before the trio.

The stranger tilted his head quizzically “No?”

“No” Oliver repeated firmly “We’re not interested in your righteous cause or your god.

The stranger chuckled darkly “What righteous cause?”

“You’re a paladin in an evil creepy house in an unexplored tunnel off the beaten path.” Oliver explained “That only means one thing: Trouble. Solius I take with the whole…”

He gestured to the faded sun symbol splashed across the dented armor.

“Aye” The paladin answered with a nod “I am Fen, judgment of the sun god Solius on this mortal plane.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow sarcastically “Solius is the god of sunshine, rainbows and redemption. I wasn’t aware of he added judgment to his resume.”

“He hasn’t” Abigail mumbled.

Neither Oliver or Fen paid her any attention.

“Your mocking is common among the faithless” Fen growled softly.

Oliver gave a noncommittal shrug “If you want to believe in a higher being in exchange for some magical whatevers, that’s a you problem. I’m good with my music.”

“Bards” Fen spat out distastefully.

“Paladorks.” Oliver replied with false civility.

Abigail and Archibald watched the barbed exchange carefully, unsure what exactly was going on.

Abigail’s knowledge of paladins was sketchy at best: Like clerics, she knew their drew their magic from the deity they have chosen to follow. Good and bad gods existed in equal measure in this world and each ruling a domain such as light, dark, night, murder, redemption. Unlike the clerics, who often were healers or at the very least practitioners of powerful magics, paladins were their god’s warrior on the mortal plane, protecting their flock or routing out their enemies with religious fervor and steel.

Abigail was only familiar with Solius due to her family’s livelihood. While not particularly devoted to the sun god, her parents often left offerings in his church in the town to help ensure a good harvest for the year.

Speaking honestly, Abigail was never sure how exactly clerics and paladins drew their magic from a god or how exactly gods worked. She had heard the elders endlessly argue whether the gods were divine or simply higher beings who were beyond the comprehension of mortal beings. It was frankly above her thought process and she rather focus on questions she could answer such as what she was going to eat that day and if the bloodblooms needed more or less water.

“So.” Oliver began tiredly “How much danger are we in?”

Abigail and Archibald shared a concern glance

“I’m sorry, did you just say we’re in danger?”

“Yes” Fen answered bluntly “Much danger.”

“Much danger?” Abigail couldn’t keep stop her pitch from rising “Danger!?”

Oliver gestured to Fen “Of course we’re in danger. A paladin’s here. An experienced

paladin.”

“How do you know he’s…?”

The question died in her throat as she got a good look at Fen: A longsword hung sheathed at his side, his armor worn and nicked dozens of scratches and dents across the faded symbol of a sunburst. At first she thought his left arm was draped in his riding cloak, hidden out of sight but as he pushed the hood from his head and adjusted the cloak with his right hand, she realized with an icy chill that he had no left arm.

Archibald shifted uncomfortably beside her.

“I lost it in a mighty battle.” Fen answered the group’s unasked question “I had it removed when a cursed creature bit my arm.”

“Cursed creature?” Abigail thought for a moment “Like a werewolf? Wait, there’s werewolves down here? How would that even work?”

“Mystic moon energy. Let’s move along.” Oliver chimed in “What are you hunting here in the dark?”

“Wait I want to know more about the werewolves!”

“Demon” Fen stated, ignoring Abigail’s inquires.

“We’re in its prison, aren’t we?” Oliver rubbed his eyes wearily.

Abigail stopped dead in her tracks “Demon?”

Fen remained silent but nodded in conformation.

“Demon.”

“For fucks sake. Can we leave?”

“Guys, there’s a demon here?”

Fen paused thoughtfully “I do not know but I would recommend against it. The sealing power of this place is weakened. If it were to escape….”

“Yeah, yeah.” Oliver cut him off “Innocent souls consumed, bloodshed, the standard spiel.”

Fen glared openly “How carefree it must be to hold nothing sacred.”

“Not all of us wear our bleeding hearts on our sleeve.” Oliver coldly replied.

Abigail cut in between them “There’s a demon here?!”

“Yes, I thought we made it clear. Keep up farm girl.”

“How are you not panicking?!”

“Survival instinct” Oliver explained simply “You can panic when you’re not about to die.”

“Speaking of, remember not to in a moment.” Fen glanced towards a darken hallway, drawing his blade quietly.

Something changed. The air, calm and still, became tense and uneasy. Goosebumps ran down Abigail’s spine as a sense of dread filled every inch of her body.

She wasn’t the only one who felt the shift: Archibald stood closer to her, one hand his bow the other on her shoulder, his breath steady yet stiff. Oliver held his lute in a death grip, his fingers curved in anticipation and ready to pluck the strings at a moment’s notice.

“It’s coming” Oliver whispered carefully to the others, his gaze fixated on the hallway before them.

At first Abigail was unsure how the bard knew that: the house was dark and the dusty air swirling about made it hard to make out anything beside silhouettes of furniture and decor.

Then she heard it: Thud, thud, thud of uneven footsteps as the demon lumbered ever closer to the group. The scraping of wood against something seemed impossibly loud in Abigail’s ears as she tried to shove down her fear from bubbling out of her throat.

“What the hell….?” she murmured as the creature shuffled uneasily into the room.

Oliver scoffed “Yes it did come from hell. Thank you farm girl.”

“Even now? Seriously Oliver?”

“It’s how I cope.”

The demon was humanoid, 7 feet tall with splotches of bruising across its deep red skin. The form was a strange mixture of heavily muscular and malnourished. It wobbled into the room, its thinly skeletal left leg being dragged along uselessly. It flexed its thick muscles threateningly as it held a massive weighed club up with little effort. The demon studied the others with sunken flaming eyes, its skin loose and pulled over the skull like an ill fitting mask. The wispy strains of reddish black hair swayed back and forth.

Abigail’s throat dried as the room became warm and stuffy almost as if this creature’s presence alone corrupted the air around them.

Abigail coughed a little, trying to clear her airway from the heat “What is that thing?!”

“No idea.” Oliver shrugged, clearing his throat as well.

“I thought you knew everything!”

“Not even close farm girl.”

“Then why do you act like it?!”

Abigail snarled but before she could strike at the bard, she felt Archibald’s hand gently squeeze her shoulder. She turned to face him and saw him breathing deep and slow.

He was right. This was not time to let her feat lash out everyone around her. She needed to stay calm if they were going to get out of this in one piece.

The demon tilted its head curiously at the group before it. It spoke deep and gravelly with a tone that was questioning but no one knew what it was asking.

“Maybe it’s asking if we come in peace?” Abigail chimed in hopefully.

“Tis a beast from hell. Do you really think it is asking for peace?” Fen scolded harshly.

Abigail’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment “I can dream alright! It’s my first time dealing a demon from the 7th pit of hell! Forgive me if I’m holding on to childish questions cause I’m trying not to freak out here! It’s how I cope!”

The demon grumbled its question again eyeing each person carefully.

“Watch for its left hook.” Fen cryptically offered.

“What?”

The demon shrieked, rattling the house violently before reaching out with its left hand. Without warning, the arm stretched forward towards the group, the skin wrinkling and pulling loose.

Abigail froze as the sharp nails grasped wildly in her direction.

Archibald moved, shoving Abigail out of the way but ran straight into the hand’s grasp. It dug its claws into his armor though luckily it hadn’t manage pierce skin.

“Archie!” Abigail cried, fumbling uselessly for her knife.

Fen and Oliver jumped into action: As the arm pulled back to drag the helpless archer closer, Fen grappled Archibald, holding on with all his strength. Oliver pluck his lute with a dramatic flourish, gold musical symbols filling the air for a moment. Abigail flinched at the clashing notes played but the demon’s reaction to the dissonance was far more explosive: Its face contorted and recoiled as if it Oliver had physically attacked it. Its body shuddered and its claws loosened their grip. Fen jabbed his blade into the demon’s grip over and over again until it released its hold on Archibald.

Demon snarled hungrily as the arm snapped back into place.

“Archie, Archie I’m sorry I…” The words died in Abigail’s throat as he gave her a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry farm girl.” Oliver shouted, pulling at her cloak to get her moving “It happens but if you’re not good at fighting…”

“Get good at getting out of the way.” Abigail whispered back as she allowed the bard to pull her to the side.

Oliver faced Abigail questioningly “Oh you know the saying? That’ll save time.”

Abigail remained silent. Arthur used to tell her that when he joined the knights.

Fen pushed forward, sword drawn with Archibald close behind.

Archibald fired an arrow, attempting to cover Fen’s approach but it bounced harmlessly off the demon’s skin.

Fen lunged forward, swinging wide and cutting a deep gash across its chest but the beast countered, aiming its club towards the paladin’s head. He ducked, tucking under the demon’s outstretched arm and backing off.

“Oi paladin! Where’s your holier than thou smiting divine power?” Oliver called from behind a chair.

Fen didn’t reply, too busy deflecting the demon’s club with the flat of his blade. He drove his blade deep into the creature’s shoulder but the demonic entity ignored it completely. It gripped him tightly by the armor and lifted off his feet. Fen tried to push the sword deeper but it wasn’t slowing the demon.

The demon bent it shoulder in an uneven angle as it raised its club just above Fen’s head. It gave toothy smile, its fangs glistening in the dark while preparing to deal the finish blow.

It staggered backwards as an arrow struck its eye. It bounced off same as before but the demon was caught unaware and reacted instinctively.

Fen took his chance. He reached into his hood and smashed a vial of clear liquid across the stunned demon’s face.

It howled in pain as steam rolled off its burning face. The demon dropped Fen as it wildly flailed about, smashing anything nearby to splinters.

It shouted in its infernal tongue before crashing into the doorway, breaking a chunk of the wall off and retreating deeper into the house.

Archibald shakily leaned against the wall to catch his breath while Oliver approached Fen, his jaw tense with anger.

“What’s the big idea?” Oliver poked the paladin’s chest “What scam are you running?”

Fen’s face twisted in anger “Scam? How dare you speak to me like that!”

“Stow it.” Oliver snarled “You are not a paladin.”

Fen rose to full height, glaring with unrestrained rage “I AM A PALADIN! THE CHOSEN OF SOLIUS!”

“Former chosen.” Oliver spat out.

The anger drained out of Fen’s eyes only to be replaced by shame.

Oliver clenched his fist “I knew it. This isn't some mission for a higher power. This is a suicide run trying to get back in your god’s good graces! He renounced you, didn’t he?”

Abigail stood rooted in place “Is that a thing?”

“Yeah. It’s a two way street. You devote your life and existence to a god and they grant you the power to do so but if they happen not to agree with how you do things then bye bye divine magic. That’s why he wasn’t smiting it with holy energy.”

Fen said nothing.

“God this is why I hate paladins.” Oliver fumed “You act better than anyone but you’re as a big a sham as me!”

“I am nothing like you.”

“You lost all rights to your high horse pal. Now what’s the plan?”

“The plan?” Fen repeated in confusion.

“Yes focus.” Oliver replied “The plan to deal with the demon. I assume you have one or did you come in here expecting to kill it with your normal boring self?”

Fen scoffed “I am not completely brain dead. Of course I have a plan.”

“Which is?”

“The seal.” Fen awkwardly started “If we can strengthen the seal, we can weaken the demon enough to put it to sleep.”

Oliver rubbed his eyes “And of course you don’t know where it is.”

“It is well hidden for a reason.”

Oliver let out a tired sigh.

“We’ll help” Abigail jumped in “We can’t let that thing escape into the Underground.”

“And we don’t want to die.” Oliver chimed in.

“That too."

Archibald looked uneasy but resigned. This wasn’t what he signed up for but he really didn’t have a choice.

Fen raised an eyebrow “And that is it? You’ll do it out of the goodness of your heart, bard?”

“Of course not” Oliver admitted “But the sooner we get this done, the sooner I don’t have to deal with you.”

“Finally we are agreed” Fen murmured.

Abigail sighed “I wish I didn’t have to deal with Oliver anymore.”

Oliver clapped his hand together, completely ignoring Abigail “Alright, let’s see what we’re working with. How many vials of holy water do you have left?”

Fen blinked in surprise “Three but how did you…?”

“Don’t bother.” Abigail mouthed.

“Alright. Give them to Archie. He can dip his arrows in them.” Fen rolled his eyes sarcastically “And what will I use oh great amazing leader? My sword is not enough to slay the beast and I need time to apply the water as well.”

Oliver stepped closer, staring eye to eye with the paladin as he pushed his lute into his hands “If you lose this, I will kill you.”

“And what am I suppose to do with this? Play a song about friendship and love? Overcharge for a children’s rhythm?” Fen mocked.

“No you idiot.” Oliver pulled away “You beat him back to hell with it.”

Fen stared at him utterly lost.

Oliver knocked on the surface of the lute “It’s magic.”

Fen couldn’t contain his surprise despite his loathing of the bard

“Your lute is magic?”

Oliver rolled his eyes “Yes. It’s not a sword or a spear but at least you’ll be able to hurt him some. At least enough for me and farm girl to find the seal.”

“Me and who now?” Abigail shook her head “Wait, your lute is magic? Why is that important?”

“Demons are naturally resistant to mortal weapons” Fen explained as he held the lute aloft, getting a feel for its weight “It would be like attacking them with a butter knife, Painful but ultimately an empty gesture. But magic, whether spells or items imbued, can bypass their nature. Holy magic would be ideal hence the holy water.”

“But we work with what we got.” Oliver finished “And can you fight farm girl?”

Abigail shifted her foot shamefully.

Oliver snapped his finger “No. Don’t do that. Nothing wrong with not knowing how to fight. I don’t.”

“But you know magic!” Abigail argued “That’s more than me.”

“Look I don’t like you.” Oliver admitted “But beating yourself up isn’t going to save us. Yes I know magic but I’m not going to be tossing fire or lightning out of my fingertips. That’s not how my magic works. Finding that seal is just as important as Archibald’s and Fen’s job.”

Abigail glanced towards Archibald. His face was grim but determined.

“What’s your job Archie?” Abigail asked gently, unable to keep the worry out of her voice.

Archibald punched a fist into his hand.

“You’re planning on fighting? That thing?”

Archibald nodded firmly.

“Archie, you can’t be serious! What if it hurts you? I promised Cecilia I’d keep you safe! Archie…”

Abigail stopped as the archer wrapped his arms tightly around her. It was warm and gentle. Tears formed in her eyes. It felt nice to be hugged again. She hadn’t been hugged in such a long time she forgot how calming it was.

He pulled away, giving her a soft smile.

Abigail still wasn’t happy with the situation but there was little choice left.

“Alright.” Oliver spoke with an edge of finality “While you two keep the demonic asshole distracted, me and farm girl will find the seal and try to strengthen it.”

“Farm girl and I” Abigail corrected.

“Seriously?”

“No, I wanted to mess with you. It’s how I cope.”

Oliver glared “We need to move fast. Once the seal is strengthen we’ll need to make a break for the exit as soon as possible because I am not dealing this place longer than I have to.”

“Do you even know how to strengthen ancient seals?” Abigail asked

“No idea but I’m a quick study.” Oliver admitted.

Abigail glanced out the grime covered windows “That’s not very comforting. And what if those shadowy creatures are out there still?”

“That’s a for later problem. Let’s focus on one life or death situation at a time.”

“Fun” Abigail replied glumly “I’m really enjoying my time in the underground guys.”

“That’s the spirit farm girl!

“I hate you so much right now.”

[angelsswirl]

Vellichor

The One With Shit and The Fan

A.N. Yall are about to be very mad at me, but it must be read.

~•~

Oh and I know

And you know that we've been here before

I think I know how it should end

We got an audience calling us crazy

You feel like a white suburban mom.

The ones that hoot and howl over every little thing in preparation for company.

You feel like that, because that's exactly what you're doing right now.

Hooting and howling over every little thing in preparation for company.

"If you move a pillow to sit on the couch, what do you do with the pillow when you're done sitting on the couch? YOU PUT THE PILLOW BACK! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU GUYS?!"

You had finally managed to convince Jisoo to agree to a civilized dinner with Taylor's parents. It involved a lot of placating and a lot of sex.

So naturally, you had to make sure the house was spic and span, because you wouldn't be caught dead in a filthy home.

Luckily, your children had pulled their own weight and helped, you were now just doing the finishing touches, like putting throw pillows in their proper place and screwing the cap on the milk jug tighter.

You also made sure to keep an eye on Jisoo just in case she decided to booby trap the place. At this point you wouldnt put it pass her.

Ryland came bouncing into the kitchen excitedly, "What did you make for dinner tonight, mommy? You got my text about the Bae-Park's dietary restrictions right?"

Despite being the second oldest, Ryland still called you 'mommy' occasionally. Especially, when she was excited or wanted something.

"Yes. Suzy and Jackson are allergic to peanuts and Taylor won't eat anything with a face. We'll see how long that lasts because you're a carnivore like your mom. And I passed it along to Lia because she cooked." You fussed around the kitchen. Dusting and swatting at imaginary dust.

"But what if mama convinced Lia to poison Chaeyoung?!"

You rolled your eyes. Did your daughter really think her mother would do something like that? Or better question. Did she really think you would let her mother do something like that?

"Jisoo has been here all day and I have her phone. I talked with Lia about everyone's needs and she made something suitable for everyone. Everything is going to be okay. Calm down, baby."

Ryland pouted, "How do you know if Chaeyoung has any restrictions? I didn't text you about her."

"We dated, remember?"

"No. I wasn't there."

"...Everything is going to be okay. Now, get out of my kitchen and set the dining room table. You might have to bring some more chairs in from the garage."

Ryland nodded.

~•~

Jisoo stared at her wife with a partially unreadable expression on her face.

She had been tricked into this. Bribed, if you will. Maybe even conned.

Sure, she was more or less fine with Taylor dating her daughter, but she wasn't really fine with spending more than an hour in a room with one of the only other people on the planet who knows what her wife looks like naked.

Great.

Her wife looks great naked. And Park Chaeyoung knew that.

She was doing her best to hide her blatant jealousy and anger but Jisoo wasn't an oscar winning actress for a reason.

"Are you getting all primped up for me or for her?" It sort of just slipped out. You had been putting on makeup for the past hour and Jisoo couldn't help but wonder.

You had never rolled your eyes harder in your life, "I'm not about to start this with you."

"You're avoiding the question."

"Because you should know the answer by now."

"For me?"

You put the finishing touches on your dark tinted red lip. Smacking them dramatically, then placing the tube of lipstick back onto the vanity.

You turned toward Jisoo with a smirk, "Oh no. For me."

Jisoo could only watch you walk out the door and into the main living area of the house.

Jisoo would try to keep the snarkiness to a minimum. If only because she's sure if she doesn't she'll never get to see your great nakedness again.

~•~

Dinner, to everyone's surprise, isn't that awkward. Probably due to the fact that Taylor easily dominated the conversation, you're a bit preoccupied with fussing over Kaleb, and Jisoo has had a full glass of red wine.

"Tay tay! How did your parents react to you telling them Ryland was your mate? Did they throw a tantrum like mama did?" Peyton asked, her mischievous smile poorly hidden behind her glass of lemonade.

Sometimes, you think Peyton forgets she still lives with you unlike her older siblings and can most definitely still be grounded. You had to resort to your signature glare, but it did the trick as Peyton slumped into her chair, thoroughly frightened.

Taylor looked confused at the question. Peyton knew the answer. They're literally best friends. She was the first one she told.

"No. Mom just mumbled that it probably made sense and then I went to go play soccer."

Ryland smiled lovingly across the table at Taylor. Lia made a gagging sound.

You thanked whatever being was listening that Peyton's chaos energy hadn't prevailed. If you thought, Ryland was your demon child while you were pregnant with her, you surely hadn't seen anything yet.

"Okay, why don't all of you kids, go do whatever it is you do in the livingroom. Mom doesn't need you to see her scarf down an entire bottle of merlot in one gulp." You mumbled that last part under your breath.

Everyone but Lia left the table, happy to be excused.

You stared at her blankly.

"I'm 22."

You're not exactly sure why but your patience is wearing thin quickly.

"Did I ask how old you were?"

"No, ma'am. Excuse me." She bowed her head dramatically before grabbing Kaleb and scurrying from the table.

"Kids. So....interesting." Chaeyoung said in an attempt to break the silence.

"Yeah. I keep telling myself that my reward for not killing them are future grandchildren. Well, actually. I'm already terrified of whatever Peyton procreates."

Both Chaeyoung and Suzy laugh at your joke.

"So, how'd you two meet?" Jisoo asked inbetween sips of her wine. She wasn't even looking in Chaeyoung and Suzy's direction, if only because it was sort of hard to peer around you in their positions.

You tried to listen for answers, you really did, but your reasoning for the irritability comes to light. You're sweating and almost slumped over into Jisoo, but you somehow managed to keep yourself upright.

Jisoo and Chaeyoung's eyes snapped to you at the same time. And the last time you felt this much dread, was when you found out that Jisoo and Chaeyoung found out about each other.

It's almost like you see Chaeyoung's mouth move in slow motion. You will her not to say anything, just let you silently excuse yourself from the table and take your suppressants, but no. Things were never easy when it came to Chaeyoung and Jisoo.

Chaeyoung offhandedly mumbled "That's familiar." She doesn't really mean anything by it. You knew that, hell even Suzy knew that.

But you can see the glass in Jisoo's hand start to shake.

"What did you just say?"

"Huh? Oh nothing. I didn't mean anything by it, Jisoo. I swear."

"Chu...let it go." You do your best to calm her down with a light touch to her thigh.

"It's no big deal. It was stupid I shouldn't have said it."

"You fucking my wife isn't a big deal?"

"Jisoo! What the hell?" You stared at your alpha who seemed to be looking right through you to Chaeyoung. The pent up anger in her eyes was quite astonishing.

"What's your problem, Jisoo? It's been years and the only one who still fucking cares is you." Chaeyoung said with a shake of her head.

"My problem is you."

Chaeyoung rolled her eyes, "I'm married with two beautiful kids. I don't want y/n and she doesn't want me. Grow up."

Chaeyoung gathered her belongings and gestured for her wife to follow her. Suzy did so reluctantly, she shot a glance of sympathy toward you but otherwise didn't say anything.

The family left, two confused children in tow.

You swallowed harshly, it was surprisingly easy to fight off your heat instincts considering you wanted very little to do with the person that's supposed to help you through that.

"Well. Congratulations."

Jisoo's brows furrowed, not in the least bit surprised when you dont elaborate.

You got up from the table without a word. You headed to the livingroom and poked your head in, "Peyton, do you mind cleaning up the table. You don't have to do the dishes, just put them in the sink. Thank you." Abigail and Ryland stared after you.

Peyton set about doing the task without any fan fare.

You then hurried into your bedroom. Wiping at your eyes and your makeup.

You knew Jisoo had followed you. Probably wanting an explanation about what you said.

"Why can't you just let it go? It's been twenty years. You said you were over it, but every time you're even slightly reminded you blow up. You know how sorry I am but it feels like I'm still being punished."

"You slept with her. You're mine and you slept with her." Jisoo looked at you like she didn't understand how you didn't get that.

"I'm yours now. I wasn't back then. Even if you imprinted on me I wasn't your mate. I wasn't even your girlfriend. I didn't cheat on you. Why does everything I did have to be some slight against you?"

Jisoo huffed, "You knew I loved you. You led me on you made me think that it was only me. That you were only going to choose me."

"What did I ever say to make you think that? Was marrying you not enough? Is being your mate not enough? Those three beautiful babies not enough?"

"We have four kids."

"Oh, hop off it. You know that's not what I meant."

Jisoo doesn't say anything further. She only stares at some point passed your head.

"Am I not enough for you, Jisoo? Because I don't know what else I can give you. I gave you my life, my love, my womb. But it's still not enough for you. What else do you want from me?!" You tried not to raise your voice too much, but it was sort of a hard feat to accomplish around your tears.

"To go back in time and not sleep with her. To say she never meant anything to you."

"Oh. You want the impossible." You nodded slowly, not agreeing in the slightest. But you got it now.

"Say it."

"You know I can't."

"Say it, y/n."

"We told each other that we would never lie to each other, and I'll be damned if I start now."

"...Then tell me to leave."

"Jisoo."

"I need to go, but I can't do it unless you tell me to."

You choked on a sob, "Fine. Go. Just know, if you walk out of that front door everything that I have said tonight, will be proven right."

That got Jisoo to hesitate. To rethink breifly. But the alpha is telling her to go before she does something she really regrets. So, she leaves. And the pain that encompasses her heart is nothing like she had ever felt in her life.

You heard the door slam shut and with it, Peyton walked into the room. You pretend that you dont see the tears in each other's eyes, "Mommy?" Her omega is calling out to yours, probably more than she realized.

She's technically a pup and she needs comfort, so even though you felt like curling up into a ball and dying you give it to her.

She practically falls into your lap and she sniffled. Your and Jisoo's bond isn't broken by any means, but even the children can tell there's something not quite right.

"I didn't mean for you to hear that, baby girl."

"Are you two going to be okay? I've never seen mama that mad before."

And that question coming from her daughter seemed to hurt the most, "I hope so, Pey. I hope so."

[squidproquoclarice]

All the questions for the relationship meme :^)

All the questions for Sadithur (as discussed!), done.  This one’s going largely under a cut because it’s long!  Numerous other people requested a single answer, but since I got this one, please go ahead and refer to this for it.

PRE-RELATIONSHIP

How did they first meet?

He came to rob her house for survival supplies, and instead ended up rescuing her from being held prisoner by the men who’d murdered her husband.  Not exactly a meet cute.

What was their first impression of each other?

Uhhhh, well.  Arthur’s first impression of Sadie was “poor shocked woman who’s had her house broken into, her husband murdered, and been attacked herself by O’Driscolls for the last three days”.  And Sadie’s first impression of Arthur is probably “large strange man who was in my house, shot the bastards who broke in, and is clearly a violent man himself, even if he saved me, and I’m not inclined to trust pretty much any man right now, let alone one with a gun.”  Not the most promising beginning.

Did any of their friends or family want them to get together?

Hosea definitely hoped for them to become a couple at some point if they survived what was to come, even though he knew at that time neither of them was in a good place for it.  Hosea’s very much the cheerleader for his kids being happy, to judge from his trying to get Abigail and John to reconcile, and given I’m sure he knows about Eliza and Isaac, he knows how lonely and traumatized Arthur is, and also sees the remarkable rapport and ease of manner he develops with Sadie.  I also think Abigail, who loves both Arthur and Sadie deeply, kind of hoped for it also.  She knows how lonely they both are, and sees how they are around each other, and we know she’s definitely a bit of a romantic and a believer in the power of love.  I suspect Tilly might have leaned in that direction too, because Tilly’s perceptive AF, and Arthur’s Big Bro. Who felt romantic feelings first?

Arthur.  Understandably so, as his grief for Isaac and Eliza is further in the past than Sadie’s for Jake.  It was still only a matter of a couple of months difference, though. Did either of them try to resist their feelings?

Not so much resisted as restrained.  They readily accepted they felt that way, and that the person they felt romantic feelings towards was more than worthy of it.  They were just questioning whether it was right and fair to put those feelings on the other person.  Both of them had concerns--Arthur felt like he had nothing to offer Sadie and had no right to impose on her like that with his feelings, and Sadie had concerns that Arthur would just be bulldozed into a relationship from just being happy to be wanted, and she was unwilling to hurt him like that.

If you had told one of them that the other would be their soulmate, what would they think? Almost immediately the two of them click in a profound way and they’re very close and comfortable with each other.  The trust and affection and deep friendship is already there, so I don’t think they’d be shocked to hear they’d be so important to each other.  But they would likely have both been very surprised at the idea of also being together romantically and sexually at some point.  Not as a reflection of the other person being unsuitable, but because after so much trauma and self-loathing and loss, neither of them could imagine having that in their lives.

GENERAL

Who initiated the relationship, and how did it go?

Neither of them really made a move.  It just sorta happened as a slow change over a couple of years from friends to a cohabiting queerplatonic couple to spouses.  

Did they have an official first date? If so, what was it like?

In a sense, their first date was that shopping-and-gunfighting trip to Rhodes, which was pretty memorable, and shows off their immediate easy chemistry and battle couple potential.  But in terms of a genuine romantically intended “first date”, not really.  They were essentially a QPR by the time they admitted to now having romantic/sexual feelings as well, so things were intense and committed enough already that they didn’t need a date.  They just moved right towards getting married.

What was their first kiss like?

They both had resolved to admit their feelings to each other after the wedding of two of their friends.  Then they got a little tipsy at the wedding, ended up saying a bit too much, and Sadie took the initiative and kissed Arthur.  Given he kissed back very enthusiastically, she could be pretty sure he wasn’t just playing along with her.  But they realized they needed to talk, so they tabled it until the next day when they were sober again and could talk about it.

Were they each other’s first anything (kiss, relationship, etc.)?

For Sadie, no.  She’d been married very happily to Jake.  For Arthur, this was the first relationship with solid grounding and a solid future rather than youthful fantasy like Mary, and he’s surprised at how easy it is to be with Sadie, including being vulnerable, because of that trust.  It’s also the first time he’s had sex and actually really been comfortable and enjoyed it rather than just being left feeling awkward and even more alone, given he comes across very strongly as some type of asexual (I write him specifically as demisexual) and didn’t have opportunities for the emotional intimacy he needs to be interested in sex.  Both of them actually had their first kiss in a same-sex romance, though Sadie wasn’t able to acknowledge hers as romantic until much later.

What’s their height difference? Age difference?

Given Roger and Alex’s heights, and their corresponding relative heights in-game looking accurate to that height differential, I put Arthur at 6’ish and Sadie at 5’4”ish, so there’s an 8 inch height difference.  As for age, it’s canonical that Arthur was born in 1863.  I have him as a July birthdate, so he’s 35 for the early bits of the game, and 36 for most of it.  Sadie appears to be 30ish (she’s definitely no 24-year-old), and I write her as having been born in April of 1868.  So she’s 31 for all of RDR2.   That puts their age difference as a smidge under 5 years. 

What’s their relationship with each other’s families?

Both of them have lost their biological parents by 1899.  Arthur’s only bio sibling (David) died even before Arthur even knew him.  Sadie lost an older brother (Henry), and she’s become estranged from her younger sister Caroline, though they patch that up.  Arthur has yet to meet Caro, though, as she’s been living in Oregon.  So the only real family in question was the gang, and clearly Sadie was not only accepted by them, she actually stepped up and led them.

Who takes the lead in social situations?

Sadie tends to, and Arthur readily relies upon and defers to her experience there.  He’ll be the first to admit his life didn’t exactly teach him the boundaries and everyday pleasantries of Victorian social order, and sometimes that’s to the good.  Sadie’s not exactly a paragon of it herself as a hardscrabble farm girl who doesn’t defer to misogyny, but she’s aware of some of those rules, boundaries, and undercurrents in a way Arthur isn’t.  So he’s not too proud to let her take the lead in a social situation, or to ask her advice in dealing with something without giving offense.

Who gets jealous easier?

Arthur would have, early on.  He was far more insecure in himself (and as Sadie admits, he’ll always be a little more fragile than her in that realm), but he was probably more likely to morosely turn doubts on himself as a perceived inadequacy and personal failure rather than to get jealous of Sadie.  Being romantically or sexually jealous really kind of requires insecurity and lack of trust, and they’ve moved far beyond that.

LOVE

Who said “I love you” first?

I had to double check.  Arthur said it first when he proposed to her, but Sadie immediately followed it.

What are their primary love languages?

For both, I think Quality Time/Acts of Service.  Showing love for both of them is in spending time together doing things, doing little things for each other, and basking in that friendship that’s the solid foundation of everything between them.  There’s a bit of Physical Touch in there also due to both of them being somewhat touch-starved.  I do think Arthur has some Words of Affirmation in there as well, because sometimes he truly needs to hear praise and affection deliberately and unequivocally stated to be able to believe it’s real, and Sadie’s come to realize that and respond to it.

How often do they cuddle/engage in PDA?

They’re not really an overt PDA couple.  What they have they consider generally very intense but private.  They do like to cuddle in private, and small touches here and there are common enough. 

What are their favorite things to do together?

Just spend time together, to be honest.  It could be reading together (silently or one of them aloud), playing music together, doing chores, cooking, spending time with the kids, training horses, lying in bed talking, or anything.  They just genuinely enjoy each other’s company.  

Who’s better at comforting the other?

It’s a learned skill for both of them since neither was great at articulating feelings, but the months at Las Hermanas when they were both healing psychologically while Arthur was healing physically did a lot. They’re both fairly good at nonverbal comfort, and reaffirming each other. 

Who’s more protective?

Pick a day.  It can vary.  ;)  I think we see in-game they’re both fiercely protective of each other.  I do think Arthur has the knack of being protective of her in a non-patronizing, non-paternalistic way, which Sadie appreciates.  It’s still been hard for her to accept that needing and taking help isn’t admitting she’s weak.  Arthur kind of had to get over that notion during his TB convalescence because he constantly needed help for things.

Do they prefer verbal or physical affection?

A mix of both.  Usually not big overt dramatic demonstrations, since that’s not their dynamic, but quick little affectionate touches (on the arm, the cheek, etc.), using fond nicknames and pet names, and things like that. 

What are some songs that apply to their relationship, in-universe or otherwise?

I’ll keep working on this and probably post some of my Sadithur playlist at some point.

What kind of nicknames do they call each other?

“Art” and “Daisy” are their private affectionate nicknames, given Sadie jokingly calling him “artsy Art” as he’s an artist, and Arthur admitting he couldn’t come up with a fitting nickname from “Sadie” and just rearranging the sounds a bit.  After Sadie used it in-game, “honey” is probably the most common pet name they use.

DOMESTIC LIFE

If they get married, who proposes?

Arthur did.  That’s not because Sadie is a traditionalist by any means.  But I do think there’s the part of her that likes to know she’s not steamrollering someone, and that they got to take their own initiative.  Then especially in Arthur’s case, I think he needed to ask.  She needed to be sure that Arthur wanted to be with her, rather than it being a case of her wanting him and him going along with it from being happy to be wanted by her.  I also think he needed it too to prove to himself he could be confident enough in what he had to offer Sadie to ask, and to stand equal to her. 

What’s the wedding like? Who attends?

They had a very small wedding at their home in Chuparosa, for several reasons. One is because they’re just not the type for huge demonstrative parties for their own sake, even if they enjoy them when they’re celebrations for someone else.  Neither of them really likes being a massive center of attention.  Two, they were fairly alone.  They’d made some friends in Mexico, but aside from Charles (who they knew went to Canada), everyone else from the gang was a mystery to them.  Three, they kept it small and quiet also since they’d sorta accidentally ended up playing fake married since Arthur’s admission to Las Hermanas in order to stick together.  So everyone already assumed they were a married couple, and they didn’t want it to become a big obvious thing.  Sister Calderon was the officiant (since it was a secular wedding of two avowed non-Catholics), and their friends Pedro and Juanita Estevez from Las Hermanas were the witnesses.  Dr. Felipe Garcia, Arthur’s doctor who’d also become a friend, also attended, as did Albert Mason, who they’d found in Escalera a few weeks before on yet another wildlife photography expedition. 

How many kids do they have, if any? What are they like?

Mild Sunrise spoiler ahoy, but as of 1908 they’ll have four: Beatrice (born 1902), Matthew (born 1903), Susanna (born 1905, adopted by them in 1907) and Andrew (born in 1908).  I also see them as likely taking in some older kids later once Susie and Andy are a bit older, because Arthur in particular would be passionate about the need to try to give a couple of orphaned and/or homeless teens and near-teens a home.  He knows the kind of people who take you in, or if it doesn’t happen at all, can make a huge difference.  As for personality, Bea’s very much a fierce no-nonsense sort but very protective of the younger kids, Mattie’s a sweet boy who’s going to become a gentle giant, and as for Susie and Andy, I’ll wait to see what they tell me.  Andy’s not born yet, and Susie’s both very young and dealing with the trauma of losing her family to Micah’s gang, so she’s understandably not showing much of her true personality just now. 

Do they have any pets?

Aside from a lot of horses?  They ended up with a black cat (Dido) at the very end of 1899, adopted during the first weeks of Arthur’s convalescence at Las Hermanas and helping keep him company during all that bed rest.  Then they picked up a stray dog (Dusty) in Armadillo in 1901 during fighting the cholera epidemic--this is the Armadillo “Mutt” in-game.  The most recent addition is a border collie puppy (Dorothy), who they’ve adopted from MacFarlane’s Ranch in 1907, given Charlie the border collie being there in RDR1.  

Who’s the stricter parent?

This ended up being something of a big fight, actually, and probably the first huge blow-out in their marriage.  Sadie felt like she was the only one providing discipline and accountability as Bea got old enough to start to need it.  Arthur understandably was feeling his way through parenting since mostly what he has is negative examples from Lyle (physical abuse) and Dutch (profound psychological abuse).  Even Hosea’s parenting was sort of indirect and elusive sometimes.  So he was being very hands-off on discipline out of a need to make certain the kids knew they were loved, and to not worry that he was hurting them.  But he couldn’t do that and leave Sadie all the heavy lifting while he gets to be identified as the “nice” parent and the joybringer, and the two of them came to realize that.  I’d say they’re about even now.   

Who kills the bugs in the house?

Both of them.  Neither is squeamish by any means.

How do they celebrate holidays?

Usually fairly quietly at home with family, but with remembrances of things dear to them.  Songs and music, decorations, favorite foods, little family rituals.  They like to keep that kind of thing alive where they can.

Who’s more likely to convince the other to come back to sleep in the morning?

Sadie.  She knows how hard farming is, so she’s up and at it when there’s work to be done.  But she never had Arthur’s long years of anxious need to stay busy no matter what so he was proving his usefulness.

Who’s the better cook?

They’re both pretty decent at it.  Sadie actually likes cooking, but she doesn’t like being expected to do it just because she’s a woman, so she’s rather protective of that notion.  Arthur came to it late, as kitchen duty was one of the first light jobs a TB patient at Las Hermanas could have after being allowed off total bed rest.  Given how bored he was by then, cooking became something really exciting, and he found out he actually enjoyed it, both the kind of soothing ritual of all those steps, and then producing something tangible by it. 

[atmilliways]

On the 6th day of Dethmas this writer gives to thee…

Dec 18 - Crossover with your favorite holiday movie

An AU in which Dethklok is perhaps a little less of a ubiquitous presence in the music industry, but still big enough to have Dethklok Inc. and Dethklok Australia. Seth still runs the latter with his wife Amber and their son.

When Abigail takes a vacation to the Land Down Under, she ends up dating the most amazing woman she’s ever met and staying longer than expected. Amber invites her to come back to the states with her to her husband’s parents’ house for Christmas, so they can spend the holidays together. The only catch? It turns out that Seth hasn’t told his parents about the open marriage like Amber thought he had, so Abigail has to play the “friend” around Amber’s in-laws.

Chapter 1 of ?

~

Right now, my favorite movie is Happiest Season (2020) and the main character in that is named Abby, so this happened. Instead of the girlfriend needing to come out to her conservative parents, Seth needs to come out to his parents about being in an open marriage and tell them that Amber has a girlfriend.

I highly recommend this movie (if you do not have any squicks about The Fear that comes before coming out, but to be fair the movie handles it very well)! Directed by Clea DuVall, contains Kristen Stewart and Daniel Levy. 

~

Happiest Seasonklok

It had been a whirlwind year for Abigail, starting with a New Year’s party she’d attended on a whim and, at the stroke of midnight, kissing the prettiest girl at the party and exchanged Instagram usernames to stay in touch. Within hours her feed had been flooded with selfies of the two of them, as well as a DM with a phone number and the message, Call me. xoxo Amber ;) From then on, they’d been practically inseparable. 

Right away, Amber had been very upfront about having a husband and a kid. Abigail had hesitated over that one, but the kid wasn’t too bad and the husband. . . . Well, meeting him pretty much took care of that. Seth was the kind of guy who thought very highly of himself despite having little reason to do so; he absolutely adored Amber, and somehow managed to be completely unaware that she was in charge. As soon as he started gunning for a threesome Amber told him to cut it out, and he did. Never brought it up again, like the idea had just been highlighted and deleted. It was hard to be bothered about a guy like that. 

Amber had taken her everywhere. What started as a one month vacation in Australia turned into three. Abigail’s new partner had Connections, and before she knew what was happening she had a work visa, a short term lease apartment, and producing jobs lined up left and right. 

Everything had been wonderful, and while sunbathing in the Australian December rays and talking idly about the difference in seasons and the complete lack of snow, Amber had looked over with a grin, taken her hand, and asked her to come with them back to the States with her and her family to Seth’s parents for Christmas. And Abigail had said yes. 

She regretted that now. Because halfway through the flight to Wisconsin on a generously appointed private jet, Seth had turned to Amber and said, “Hey, babe? You remember how I visited my parents for my mom’s birthday back in June and told them about our whole, y’know, open marriage deal?”

Amber turned slowly from playing with the baby and said, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, well, see, I kiiiiiinda didn’t tell them.” 

Immediately Amber looked over at Abigail and mouthed, Crap, I’m sorry. 

“‘Cause see, my dad’s runnin’ fer mayor of Tomahawk and there’s all this political bullshit about it, you know how it is. Anyway, it just didn’t seem like a good time, y’know? And there’s this big potential backer coming to the family Christmas party, so it didn’t really seem like the good time to bring that up  before we get there . . . but I swear, babe, I’ll tell them as soon as Christmas is over.”

Amber rolled her eyes. “God, fine.” 

A few minutes later Seth excused himself to use the bathroom—though it was pretty clear once he gestured for his bodyguard to follow him that he was mostly just using it as a convenient place to do drugs. Melmord followed with a look of friendly yet philosophical boredom, patting his pockets in search of whatever they were skulking off to snort, swallow, or smoke. 

Abigail was at Amber’s elbow in a second. “Fine? Are you kidding me?”

“Look,” Amber sighed, “Molly and Calvert are fine. I married their golden boy who they think can do no wrong.” Seeing Abigail gearing up to comment on that, she shook her head. “Don’t ask me why they think that. Honestly their other son, Pickles, is way more successful and definitely the reason Seth got the Dethklok Australia job, but there’s this whole truckload of family history there, it’s a big thing. I don’t like that Seth hasn’t told them yet either, but I’d really rather not put up with bitchy in-laws all Christmas . . . so at this point, it’s better for everyone and just wait.”

“What makes you think Seth is going to tell them after Christmas?” Abigail demanded. 

Amber laughed. “Honey please. I’ll make sure he does it, don’t worry about that. But are you going to be okay with this for just a few days?”

Crossing her arms with a huff, Abigail kissed her on the cheek as an answer and sank into an adjacent seat. “I don’t like that he waited until we’re practically there to tell us.”

The baby reached up from the playmat spread out on the floor and patted her knee. “Abi biccy!”

Amber ruffled her child’s tuft of dark red hair. “That’s right, Abi needs a cheer-up biscuit.”

“Choccy,” the baby insisted, and flashed a beatific smile that featured exactly one tooth.

“Ooh, a chocolate biscuit.” Amber winked at her girlfriend. “Aren’t you the favorite today.”

It wasn’t long before the plane began its descent into a town so small that Abigail was surprised they even had a runway. (She wouldn’t have been surprised if Seth had paid for it and then claimed it as a business expense, though.) A limo drove them through snowy fields with the occasional distant shape of houses. Eventually the house-to-snowy-landscape ratio increased until they were in something vaguely resembling suburbs. When they pulled to a stop in front of one house in particular, Seth bounced out of the car with a shout of, “Hey, Mom and Dad, it’s me, Seth! We’re here!”

Abigail hung back, watching Amber go ahead with the baby in one hip while she stood by the trunk of the limo, waiting for Melmord to uncover her single bag while he pulled suitcase after suitcase out and stacked it on a folding trolley. 

“Can you fill me in on what to expect here?” she asked while she waited. She didn’t know Melmord particularly well, beyond the fact that that he sounded like a pack a day sort of guy, but she didn’t get the vibe from him that he would bother to either lie or put any particular spin on things. 

Melmord shrugged. “Seth can do no wrong, his bro Pickles can do no right, and I’m pretty sure Seth’s parents think your an orphan he’s helping out for charity.”

“Uh. . . . Why?”

Melmord shrugged. “Because that’s what he told them. Don’t,” he added quickly, catching the look on her face, “say you could just kill him for it. I’m contractually obligated to physically attack the source of any threats. Just roll with it, if you try to correct them they’ll just say shit like, ‘Oh, you’re so brave.’” He held out her bag. “Order’s up, in you go.”

Amber took it with a sigh, already regretting the decision to tag along. 

It was going to be a long, long weekend.

[avengerscompound]

She Sets the City on Fire - Father Knows Best

She Sets the City on Fire: A Bruce Banner Fanfic

MASTERLIST PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Square:  @brucebannerbingo​ - U3 Free Space

Rating:  E

Warning:  Age Gap, asshole parents, anxiety, smut (MF, light ds, oral sex, throat fucking, rough sex, a small amount of spanking, vaginal sex, gags)

Word Count:  4380

Pairing:  Bruce Banner x OFC (Summer)

Summary:  Bruce is drawn to Summer.  She’s everything he wished he could be.  Carefree, exciting, and she knows exactly who she is.  There are so many reasons a relationship with her wouldn’t work.  So why can’t he stop thinking about her?

A/N: On the first chapter

6. Father Knows Best

Bruce and Summer walked up West 88th hand in hand.  They were driving out to Westchester so Bruce could meet Summer’s parents.  He was nervous.  Neither Summer nor Aiden talked about their parents much - at least not with Bruce - but after Tony had hinted it was someone famous, he had looked it up.

Summer’s father was media mogul Chester Martin.  The man who’s media empire included every single right-wing and anti-superhero outlet from New York’s Daily Bugle to the Globe-News.  It was his publications that helped the government cover up the Hulk and had Bruce listed as public enemy number one and pushed as some kind of global terrorist.  With that and what he had heard about him buying affection and ignoring Aidan’s existence for most of his life, Bruce was not foreseeing a warm reception.  Bruce was just thankful that he was actually younger than Chester.  He could only imagine how much worse it would be if they were from the same generation.  Even though the age-gap between Chester and Summer’s mother was over 30 years, Bruce didn’t think that hypocrisy would be enough of a reason to not use the age thing as a reason that Bruce wasn’t good enough for his daughter.

Summer had assured him that there wouldn’t be a problem.  That at worse he probably wouldn’t even notice that Bruce was there and that her mother liked everyone and she’d be welcoming to him.  Aidan had confirmed that Summer wasn’t lying about her mother, but that there was no way their father would like him.  He would pretend for Summer but in Chester’s eyes, no one was good enough for Summer, let alone some middle-aged, liberal, with an anger issue.  Aidan had left him one piece of advice, don’t let Chester get him on his own.

“Summer, are you sure what I’m wearing is fine?”  He asked for the eighth time that day.  He had not been able to decide if he should go formal or casual and ended up landing on a strange mix of both, with navy khakis, a dark purple button-up shirt that he left loose at the collar, a dark brown suit jacket, and because it was cooling off a long black coat.  Summer, on the other hand, looked like she stepped off the silver screen in a vintage skirt suit in pale pink wool with black trim.

“You look just like you.  And I love you.  So he’ll love you.”  Summer said, lifting his hand up into the air and spinning under it.  “Just relax, Brucie. I’ll protect you.”

They reached the garage where Summer kept her car.  A valet came out and she handed him a card.  It wasn’t long before he re-emerged driving a vintage MG Roadster in dark burgundy.

“Wow,” Bruce said, as Summer exchanged her keys for a tip.  He ran his hand over the hood of the car.  “Tony would love this.”

“I’m sure he could afford to buy one if he wanted.”  Summer joked.

“Do you think…” He paused and fidgeted with his hands.  Tony never let him drive one of his cars and he always wanted to.  Tony wasn’t Summer though.  Maybe she wouldn’t have that little hang-up about needing to be behind the wheel.  “Could I please drive?”

“Can you drive stick?”  She asked.

He nodded.  “I learned on the run.”

Summer threw him the keys and got into the passenger seat, digging in the glove compartment and pulling out a silk scarf that she wrapped around her hair while Bruce got into the driver's side and started the car.

“This is such a beautiful car,” Bruce said.  He wasn’t exactly what you’d call a ‘car person’.  Not the way Tony was.  He wasn’t into the engines or horsepower except for the basic way he was into that kind of science in general.  He could appreciate aesthetics though, and the rumble of an engine and the way he just felt like maybe the cool factor might rub off on him just a little.  Oh god… was he going through a midlife crisis after all?

“Thanks,” Summer said, hanging her arm over the door.  “My dad got it for my 21st.”

“He bought you a car that’s older than you.”  Bruce mused.

“It’s older than you too, Grandpa.  She’s a ‘63.”  Summer teased.

“You got a thing for the elderly?”  Bruce teased.

Summer laughed and leaned over, kissing his cheek.  “You know it.  I’m a grave robber.”

As they drove the 45 minutes to Westchester, Bruce kept stealing glances at Summer.  Something about the vintage suit, the scarf around her hair to protect it from the wind and the large round sunglasses she’d put on made her look like a 50s starlet.  She was in particularly high spirits today too, which was saying something for the ever carefree Summer.  She didn’t stop smiling the entire trip up.  Her hand was usually somewhere on Bruce, often sliding it’s way up his inner seam, sometimes on his hand, or playing with his hair.

Summer provided the directions and as they made their way into Westchester the houses just kept getting bigger and bigger and the space between each one became more vast until they became more like compounds than simply mansions. When they reached what was the biggest one yet he turned, entered the code at the gate and drove up the winding drive to the enormous mansion.

They got out of the car and Summer came around and took Bruce’s hand.  “He’s nice.  I protect you anyway, but he’ll love you.”

Bruce sighed.  He wasn’t so sure that they’d think much of each other, to be honest.  Chester Martin was a hateful bigot who had no concept of what it was like to struggle at all.  How Summer and Aidan had come out of that family even half the decent people they were was impressive, but Bruce was no stranger to good coming out of such bad.

As they made their way up the steps Chester and Abigail came out the front to meet them.  Summer let Bruce’s hand go and ran to them, hugging them both tightly.  Bruce continued his way up alone and when he finally reached them, Summer pulled back and introduced him.

Abigail greeted Bruce warmly, hugging him and kissing his cheek.  She was still quite young, in fact, the thought slipped into his head that Abigail was actually 2 years younger than Bruce was.  The thought freaked him out a little bit and he pushed it away and smothered it.  Abigale was slender and wore her long red hair in a bun.  She had the same clear blue eyes as Summer. In fact, Summer had taken after Abigail to the point it looked like she’d been cloned.  Which was good for her really, because as beautiful as her mother was, Chester Martin looked like a bloated, wrinkly toad.

He greeted Bruce with a firm handshake and a patronizing tone.  The followed him inside where Bruce met Summer’s sister Dakota.  Dakota looked a lot like Summer, though she had the dark hair and eyes of her father.  She barely even looked up from her phone when Summer walked in but when Summer said Bruce’s name her eyes snapped up.

“You’re Bruce Banner!”  She said, putting her phone away.

“That’s right.”  He said, feeling a little awkward.  Summer took a seat on a large leather couch and patted the spot beside her.

Dakota immediately moved from where she was sitting and sat down next to Bruce, pressing herself against him.  “I didn’t know you were dating an Avenger, Sum.  Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I told you his name was Bruce,” Summer said.

Dakota leaned towards her sister, her breast pressing against Bruce’s arm.  “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t, Dakota,” Summer said.

Dakota sighed and her knuckles brushed up the side of Bruce’s thigh.

Chester took a seat in one of the wing-backed chairs opposite them while Abigail took a more comfortable looking sofa seat next to him.

“How exactly did the two of you meet?”  Chester asked.

Thus started the grilling.  Most questions seemed to try and pry out how long they’d been dating, what they did when they were together, and how serious they actually were.  The amount the Martins seemed to know about their daughter could fit in a thimble.  Chester’s questioning seemed to imply that Summer was an innocent young girl and Bruce was just there to corrupt her.

At some point, a staff member came in and poured everyone drinks before disappearing again.  After what felt like they’d been questioning forever, Chester looked at his watch.  “Girls, can you check and see what’s taking the kitchen so long with lunch?”

Summer jumped to her feet and practically skipped from the room after kissing Bruce on the forehead.  Dakota slouched after her.  When they were out of earshot, Chester turned to Bruce.

“I am not having my daughter being dragged into your Avengers lifestyle.  I know the kind of things Stark gets up to and I don’t want her life to be put in danger for associating with the likes of you,” Chester seethed.  “When you leave here today, you will break up with her.  You’ll let her down easy, but I don’t want to see you here again.”

Bruce’s heart started hammering in his chest, and he could feel the pulse in his ear and a shove from the Hulk in the back of his head.  “E- excuse me?”

“You heard me.  How dare you put my daughter in danger of being hurt by that thing inside you?”  Chester snapped.  “What is she doing with you anyway?  She’s a straight-A student, she is above being corrupted by some lecherous middle-aged man.  I won’t allow it.”

The hypocrisy was so thick that Bruce could almost taste it.  Anger started bubbling up inside him and he couldn’t seem to get it under control.  “Don’t you think Summer should get a say in this?”

“No.  I don’t.”  Chester said.  “You will be breaking up with her.  If you don’t there will be consequences.  And if you think for a second I can’t make your life a living hell, you’re sadly mistaken.”

Bruce’s mind raced.  Memories of how the press had treated him when he was on the run mixed with headlines about him hurting Summer.  He couldn’t hear anything above the thud of his pulse in his ears.  There was a shove from Hulk and he was sucked into the dark.

Hulk roared and swung his fist, shattering the coffee table in front of him.  He wasn’t sure where he was exactly or what was wrong.  There was no gunfire or explosions to point him at his target.  All he knew was that Banner had been angry and scared and it was time for him to step in.  

The couple in front of him was backing up against the wall, but the woman who looked so much like pretty Summer hand her hands up in placation.  “Please don’t hurt us.”

Hulk huffed.  Usually, when they were begging not to be hurt it was a pretty good sign they needed to be.  The door crashed open behind him and he spun around and growled.  In front of him was pretty Summer and he felt something in him relax a little.  Behind her stood a younger girl with dark hair who looked both surprised and scared.  He took two steps towards Summer, hoping she might have an answer to why Hulk was here.

“Big guy?”  She said, a little confused.  She put her hand on his arm and stepped around him, standing in front of him like she wanted to shield him.  “What did you do to him?”  She yelled.

“Us?”  The old man argued.  “Your boyfriend just turned into a monster and somehow that’s our fault.”

“Daddy!”  Summer snapped.  “I know you think I don’t know what you say to the people I bring home.  But I do.  I hoped you might not be stupid though.  What did you say that upset him so much?”

“I told him to break up with you!  You’re too good for him Summer!  He’s older than your mother!”  The man argued.

Summer took a deep breath and balled her hands into tiny fists.  Hulk squared up behind her, breathing heavily.  “Daddy, I love you, but you can be a huge asshole sometimes.”  She turned to Hulk and touched his wrist.  “Hey, you want to come outside with me.  We have horses.  I want to show you.”

Hulk smiled and wrapped his large hand around Summer’s tiny waist.  As she led him out of the room, Summer stopped at the girl who was still looking at Hulk stunned.  “Can you get some of Daddy’s clothes and bring them out to the stable?”  She said quietly.

The girl nodded.  “Yeah… yeah okay.”

“Thanks, Dakota,” Summer said and led Hulk outside.

He lumbered after beautiful Summer through the grounds.  “I’m sorry about my dad.  He can be a bit much.”  She said.

“Hulk not mind.  Hulk used to it.”  He rumbled.

“You shouldn’t be used to it though.  It’s mean.  Did Bruce get really upset?”  She asked.

Hulk nodded.  “Puny Banner.  Not like being questioned.  Hulk here now.”

She led him into a stable and Hulk began to look at the horses.  He always liked being around animals.  Animals never judged him.  The horses all let him pat them and feed them hay.  Summer introduced him to each one and gradually Hulk calmed completely and was just enjoying that he got to spend some time with her.

The brown-haired girl showed up with her arms full of clothes.  “You think this stuff will be okay?”  She asked as she handed them over to Summer.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.  Thanks, Dee,” Summer said and put it on a bench.  “Hey Big Guy, this is my sister Dakota.  Dakota, this is the Hulk.”

Dakota raised her hand in a wave.  “Nice to meet you.”

Hulk huffed and nodded his head.

“You’re not scared of him?”  Dakota asked her sister.

Summer shook her head and patted Hulk’s hand.  “He’s my friend.  It’s nice getting to see him.  I just wish it wasn’t because of something dad said.”

Dakota shrugged.  “You should have seen him with the last guy I bought home.  Didn’t even try and chase him off in private.”

Summer giggled.  “I get he’s trying to protect us… I just…”

“Yeah…” Dakota agreed and looked up at Hulk.  “Can you introduce me to Cap?”

Hulk furrowed his brow.  “Don’t know.”

“Dakota, you’re 17!  He’s over 100!”  Summer yelped.

“Yeah, yeah.   And he’s hot as fuck,” Dakota said.

Hulk could feel Bruce niggling at the back of his head and he huffed and put his hand on Summer’s back.  “Banner want back.  Hulk go.”

Summer leaned up and kissed Hulk’s cheek.  “It was nice to see you.”

He nodded and stepped back and sunk back into the dark.

Bruce groaned and blinked around.  “Summer?”  He said, covering himself with his hands.

Summer grabbed the pile of clothes and gave them to him.  “It’s okay.  You’re okay.”

“Where are we?”  Bruce asked.

“The stables.  I thought it would be a good way to calm Hulk down,” she explained and looked at Dakota.  “You think we can have some alone time?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dakota said, looking Bruce up and down before spinning and heading back to the house.

“Did I hurt anyone?”  Bruce asked as he started getting dressed.

“No, Brucie,” Summer said rubbing his back. “Just smashed a coffee table.  But he can afford to replace it.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said with a sigh.  He was starting to think maybe Chester was right after all.  Anything could have happened and it would have been his fault.

“No, Bruce.  I’m sorry for letting him talk to you like that.  I shouldn’t have left you alone,” she said.

He paused as he buttoned up his pants.  “Summer, this isn’t your fault.”

Summer wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled into his back.  “I’m not stupid, Bruce.  I know who my dad is.  I try and keep him accountable, but he sees me as this… perfect little flower and he doesn’t really listen to anything I actually say.  He’s still my dad though.  I knew he probably wouldn’t like you.  I knew I shouldn’t let him be alone with you.  But … it seemed to be going okay.  I slipped.”

Bruce turned and pulled her close.  “You don’t have to protect me from that.  I should be able to keep the anger under control.”

She leaned her forehead against his.  “Hulk didn’t hurt anyone.  I promise,” she said.  “What do you want to do?”

“I want to go home to bed and start thinking of ways to pretend none of this ever happened,” Bruce said.  “But we should probably go back inside.  I can’t just run from people like that.  Especially not when they’re your family.  Because… I love you, Summer.  I want you to be my family.”

Summer smiled.  “What if… we go to my room first.  We can do some of those things first,” she teased.  “Besides.  I wanted to show you my poster.”

Bruce smiled and kissed her nose.  “That sounds really good.”

Summer led him back inside through the back door and upstairs to her bedroom.  It was everything he’d hoped it would be.  Everything was pink and floral.  Shelves were littered with snow globes and ceramic unicorns.  There was a twin bed with a white metal frame in the middle of the room with a garish pink, floral bedspread that looked like it came right out of the 1970s.  Around the edge of the room acting as a kind of wallpaper-border, were pictures of various scientists, including, Nikola Tesla, Albert Einstein, Ada Lovelace, Alan Turing, and above her bed, a photograph of him.

“Look at that, you weren’t kidding, were you?”  He said, looking around at the photos.  “If you were so into science, why are you studying classics?”

Summer shrugged.  “I liked the history about how the discoveries were made more.  The lives of the people who made the grand discoveries.  How Évariste Galois died in a duel.  And the way Tesla was treated by Eddison.  I still cry when I think about how Turing was treated,” she stepped over to Bruce and put her hands on his chest.  “How Bruce Banner fell in love with some crazy redhead.”

Bruce chuckled.  “I thought you were going to say something about the accident.  Or being hunted.  Or becoming an Avenger.”

Summer shook her head.  “This bit is much more interesting.”  She brought her lips to his and they kissed deeply.  His arms circled around her and he pulled her tight against him and she began to unbutton his shirt.  “Bruce,” she whispered.  “I want you to fuck me so hard.  Use me like he thinks you must be.”

Bruce choked on air.  “You’re sure?”

“Yes, please,” she hummed, kissing just under his ear and pulled his shirt open.

He pulled back and looked at her, “I’ll do my best.  With the Hulk out I might have to pull back though.”  He said seriously.

“I understand, honey,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

“Now, for me to feel okay about it, you need to be as quiet as you can.  Okay, sweet one?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Then take off those clothes and get on your knees.”

Summer pulled back and took off her jacket and blouse.  She folded them in half and laid them over her desk.  She slipped her shoes off and shimmied out of her pencil skirt.  She was wearing a white lace bra with matching thong, a white garter belt and shimmering white stockings  Bruce hummed as he looked her up and down and pulled out his cock.

“Look at you,” he growled softly as he pumped his cock.  She bit her bottom lip and sunk to her knees in front of him, looking up at him with those clear blue eyes.

She ghosted her lips up his shaft and kitten licked along the slit.  Bruce hardened fully and wrapped her hair in his hand.  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, centering himself.  When he let it out he looked down at her and pulled her hair.  “Open wide, honey.”

Summer opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out.  Bruce pushed his cock in past her lips and she closed them around him, engulfing his shaft in the warm, wet of her mouth.  She sucked up and down his length with that perfect amount of pressure to send a shiver running up his spine.  For a moment he just watched her and enjoyed the way that a dull tingle coiled up through him from his cock.

He pulled her hair back and looked down into her eyes.  “Hold still, honey.”

Summer opened her mouth and Bruce began to thrust down her throat.  “That’s it,” he purred.  “Take it.”

She moaned and gripped his thighs, breathing through the assault on her throat but never gagging or choking.  He brought himself right to the edge of orgasm with her mouth.  His cock throbbed and his balls tightened, ready to release  Just when he thought he’d gone too far, he let her go and pulled back.  Summer fell to her hands and knees panting.

“Fuck,” she gasped.  “That was so hot, Bruce.”

Bruce helped her to her feet and kissed the side of her neck.  “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.  If it was hot, it was all you.”

She hummed, carding her fingers through his hair and making him purr softly as she unhooked his bra, tossing it aside.  “Fuck me hard, Bruce,” she whispered against his ear.

“You be good and stay quiet,” he said and spanked her ass.  He spun her around and bent her over the bed.  He yanked her thong down, snapping the clasps of her garters as he pulled them down.  He crouched as he dragged them down, kissing the insides of her thighs and nuzzling at her pussy.  When he stood again he ground against her and palmed her cunt, massaging it and slipping his fingers between her folds.  She mewled and wriggled against him, and he grabbed her thighs, tearing her stockings as he pulled her back flush against him.

“Please, Bruce,” Summer whined through clenched teeth. “I want your dick so bad.”

Bruce reached into his pants for his wallet and then remembered that these weren’t his clothes.  “Damnit.  Summer.  I don’t have any protection.”

Summer gripped the sheets and groaned.  “Have you been sleeping around?”

Bruce shook his head. “No.  Just you.”

“You know you can if you want to,” she said.

“Are we really having this conversation right now?”

Summer started laughing.  “Sorry.  My last test came back clean and I’ve only been with you since.  Cassie went down on me one time and I gave this guy I met at school a handjob, but I used a latex glove  So if you want to...”

Bruce blinked and shook his head.  “You’re on birth control?”

“Yes, sir,” she purred grinding her dripping cunt back against his cock.

Bruce took a few deep breaths, massaging her ass as he pictured how her cunt would feel as he fucked her raw.  His chest rose and fell as he pushed Hulk back, the deep rumble of his primal need pushing against him.  He gripped her hips and sunk deep into her.

She groaned and bit the quilt cover as she squeezed her pelvic floor around him, the warmth and wetness of her encompassing his shaft as it pressed down from every side.  It was the first time he’d even attempted sex without protection since Betty before the accident and he’d forgotten how different it felt.

“God, Summer.  You feel so good,” he groaned.

“Fuck me with that huge cock, Bruce,” she moaned in response.

He leaned over and started to rail into her.  She cried out and gripped the sheets as he pounded into her, each thrust, pushed her twin bed across the room a little more.  “Summer, quiet,” he growled, spanking her ass.

“Feels so good,” she mewled.  “You’re gonna have to gag me.”

He grabbed her panties and shoved them in her mouth to muffle her cries, and she groaned and clenched around him.  He picked up his pace, slamming into her and groaning as her cunt massaged his cock.  She reached between her legs and rubbed her clit.  It made her lose control completely.  Her whole body clenched up and she cried out loudly as her cunt spasmed around Bruce’s cock.

“I’m close, Summer,” Bruce moaned.  “Where do you want it.”

“Come on my tits, Bruce,” she begged.  “Paint me with it.”

Bruce groaned, gritting his teeth as he pulled out.  Summer slid off the bed, onto her knees and turned to face him, looking up at him as she squeezed her tits together.  He pumped his cock quickly as he looked down at her, completely overcome by lust.

He grunted and released, painting her breasts with hot ropes of come.  Summer hummed and ran her fingers through the mess.  As he helped her back to her feet she stuck her fingers in her mouth and sucked them clean.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Bruce said, pulling her into his arms.  “With your parents downstairs and right after a Hulk out.”

“I’m a bad girl, Brucie,” she hummed, nuzzling at his neck.  “You should punish me next time.”

“Maybe I will, you dirty thing,” Bruce said.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “Did you want to get cleaned up and try having lunch with them?”

Bruce nodded.   “Yeah.  If they’re okay with me being here.”

She looked up at him and frowned a little.  “I’m sorry he was like that.  You don’t have to see them again if you don’t want to.” 

He held her close to him.  “No, Summer.  I love you so much.  I would spend every day with them if it meant I could be with you.”

// NEXT

[unabasheddinosaurkitten]

Rise Of Orthros

Chapter 5

                                                          {~~}

Amelia was tending to Ethrinria when someone grabbed her forearm pulling her backwards, Amelia screamed and tried to fight back only for 3 grown men to hold her arms. "Let me go... father wouldn't approve of this," she growled.

One of the men chuckled, "Oh sweetheart your father asked us to do this."

Amelia cried watching as Ethrinria was forced down with iron ropes, a screeching roar left Ethrinria's mouth. Amelia watched as the sight if Ethrinria kept getting smaller and smaller until she was dragged through the town with people spitting on her and shouting.

"Traitor!"

She wasn't a traitor, how could she be? She was just different than the rest. "Where are you taking me?" She asked, fear set into her body as she watched her friends turn their backs on her.

The four men who were pulling her through her to the ground as they got to a stand that was standing out front of the church with a priest standing there with a book, two pastors standing beside him. Amelia tried to fight when she stood up, only for one of the men to grab her hair making her scream out and clenched her teeth together.

"Don't make this any harder, then it has to be," he whispered in her ear.

She struggled as two of them brought her closer to the priest and pastors; chaining her hands to the cuffs that connected to the floor. One of the men lifted her chin witnessing the tears building in Amelia's eyes.

"We are going to enjoy this," he smirked and stepped back allowing Richard, Teresa and Toby to step forward.

Amelia looked at her family who weren't paying attention to her, Richard nodded towards the priest making her look up to see him growing nails. "No... no!" Amelia cried.

"Amelia Rebecca Jayne you have been charged with treason against your family and your people. Not only have you ignored our rules you've also befriended a dragon. After this, you will be nothing but a shell condemned to the life of slavery," The priest spoke.

"Please mother don't let them do this," Amelia pleaded her mother who looked away from her facing another direction.

"Ég kalla til þín, ég kalla saman púkana í undirheimunum til að taka á móti þessum stelpum anda, hamingju og sál það sem eftir er ævinnar. Ég kalla til þín. Ég kalla til þín," the priest spoke as he walked up behind Amelia.

Amelia looked around as everyone stared at her with hatred in her eyes. This had to be the end for her, she was going to lose herself in front of everyone here. Tears were streaming down her face as she took her last glance at the sunset, the priest placed his hand onto her back; Amelia whimpered as she felt the priest land his hand on the small of her back.

The priest slowly wrote djöfull into the small of her back, Amelia screamed out as pain seared through her body. She was unable to move and when she tried to move the pain would increase; Amelia tilted her head screaming out. It felt like her insides were being ripped out of her skin.

The mages watched on as Amelia was being tortured in the harshest way possible, some were disgusted due to the fact this had killed Adriana. Amelia gasped for air as it was being sucked out of her lungs, she could feel herself growing weaker by the second. Her eyes began to droop and her body sunk to the floor, she heard the sound of Ethrinria's screeches making her look up to see her flying in the air and charging towards the priest.

                                                          {~~}

Amelia screamed as she sat up, her breathing was laboured and her body felt numb, did she just have a flashback? Her body was filled with so much emotion she didn't know if she should cry or punch something. Amelia flinched as the bedroom lamp turned on; she looked over to see Hunter was sitting up and rubbing his left eye.

"Are you alright? Amelia?" Hunter asked, he felt the blankets move earlier that night and peered over to see Amelia sleeping next to him.

He never minded her warmth, there were a few times they've slept in the same bed and now he doesn't care. Amelia didn't respond as she began to cry, her hands covered her face as she wept, Hunter didn't say anything, he just gently wrapped his arm around her right shoulder and pulled her closer kissing the top of her hair.

He didn't realise her coming back here would make her either have a flashback or nightmare, considering what she confessed this morning; Hunter thought it would be a flashback.

"Just slow and deep breaths, follow my breathing," he instructed.

Amelia nodded and proceeded to try and smooth herself down, that was one memory she didn't want to relive. Hunter laid back on the bed with Amelia following, gently placing her head on his chest. Hunter grasped her hip tightly before he gently kissed the top of her head once again. The sound of his heartbeat helped Amelia relax. Her eyes closed at the rhythm of his beating heart.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Hunter asked as he gently playing with her hair with his free hand, he didn't want to push the issue but he also needed to know so he could help.

Amelia took a deep breath before exhaling once more, "Just a flashback to the day my father wanted to take my life again. He wanted me to be a shell," her voice was barely a whisper but Hunter heard it all.

Hunter still didn't understand why her father would even consider trying to do something like that. It was known in the world for that to happen but that was always too bad people, those who've murdered and killed. Not to a person who wanted to be different, his hatred for her family grew stronger every minute and all Hunter wanted to do was just walk away and let them fight this themselves.

"My parents aren't like elf parents, they are very strict on what we have to follow and what we can't do and since I always disboybed my father. He had enough and thought he could turn me into a living shell but Ethrinria saved me again," Amelia told, she needed everyone to know that her parents weren't like everybody else.

Hunter yawned as he reached over and turned off the lamp and the two of them were met with darkness, Amelia slowly began to close her eyes yawning as she did.

"Goodnight Amelia," Hunter whispered before his eyes closed once again, the both of them falling inside a deep sleep.

The next morning Amelia was up at the crack of dawn, she decided to make everyone breakfast which was just bacon, eggs, fruit and pancakes. She cracked the egg on the surface of the bench so the shells wouldn't go into the egg before placing them in the pan.

Amelia collected the plates from the cabinet above her setting them out on the dining table while she grabbed a hold of a large tray where she could place the food onto. The long silver tray was soon filled with bacon, eggs, fruit and pancakes. She walked over towards the dining table and placed the tray in the middle only to look up and see Hanna and Hunter walking in.

"Smells great Amelia," Hanna commented as she took her seat at the table.

"Thank you, please help yourselves. I will finish setting up," replied Amelia as she turned back around grabbing the bottle of orange juice from the fridge placing it on the table with four glasses.

"So Abigail stayed over? Why?" Hanna asked as she placed the bacon and eggs onto her plate.

Amelia didn't want to disclose so much as it wasn't her place, "She just didn't want to go home. Before you ask why it's not my place to stay."

Hanna didn't reply but looked up at Amelia questionably, it really should have been Hunter's decision on who can stay in the house.

"If you allow Abigail? Why aren't you allowing others? You seem to trust Abigail" Hanna spoke as she finished her pancake. Hanna didn't like the way Amelia was getting too close to Abigail, she doesn't know them yet.

Amelia stared at Hanna for a few moments trying to think of what to say but no words she could think of would justify what she wanted to say, Amelia sighed softly before shaking her head, Hunter gave Amelia a small smile, "Amelia has her reasons Hanna, respect it please," Hunter said.

Hanna was about to reply when Abigail walked in, her hair was a mess and her clothes were a bit lopsided on her body.

"Please feel free to eat as much as you want," Amelia spoke before she sat down and served herself something to eat. It wasn't much as she didn't feel like eating after her flashback last night, her body was still numb from it all. Amelia slowly munched on her fruit and bacon taking small bites.

The tension between the table was thick as they ate in silence, Amelia slowly stood up when she finished placing her dish on the side, "I'm going to tend to the dragons, meet me at the east side of Gandor in 30 minutes."

She didn't say anything else before heading outside seeing Ethrinria open her eyes, Amelia didn't say anything she just cuddled into Ethrinria's neck; gently stroking her scaled face. In the dining room Hanna was looking at Hunter for answers.

"Why is Amelia acting off? I know she said that her father tried to kill her but surely that can't be the only reason right?" She asked.

Hunter cleaned his mouth with a serviette, "It's not my place to say Hanna. But you for one know that Amelia doesn't trust anyone unless she can tell they have good intentions."

Abigail listened to the two of them talk before butting in, "Hanna... what happened to Amelia was an awful thing and no one would want to relive or live what she went through. She stared at those she thought cared while they spat on her and cheering them on for  trying to kill her, if it wasn't for her dragon Ethrinria, Amelia wouldn't be who she is, in fact she would be a living shell with no emotions left."

"How do you know this?" Hanna asked.

"I was 10 when I witnessed Amelia getting tortured to death, the ritual they used was called djöfull, it was believed that those with good hearts worked for djöfull or where them. Amelia inspired so many of us, even though we wanted to help, we could not as we all would have been killed," Abigail explained as she licked the bacon from her teeth.

Hunter grabbed his plate and stood up from the chair placing it on the sink before he went to check on Amelia, he witnessed all the dragons laying beside her while she rubbed their scales gently. He walked towards her, keeping his distance and admiring her from afar, she has been through so much, yet she doesn't let that break her. It makes her stronger.

"Amelia are you alright?" Hunter thought he would make himself known.

Amelia looked up to the sound and smiled gently seeing as it was Hunter, "Yeah I'm fine, just want to get this over and done with so I can leave."

Hunter was about to reply when he saw Teresa walking over to them, she had something in her hands like a letter, "What do you have there Teresa?" Hunter asked.

Teresa handed Hunter the note, "It's our last warning. They've said to be on the east shoreline of Gandor, they are getting ready to attack tonight."

"I don't get why you aren't fighting back? It's all Richard and Toby care about. Letting people know not to mess with them, what's changed?" Amelia asked.

"We've seen what they can do, they burnt down villagers" Teresa pleaded.

"So have you? You've killed thousands of innocent people and dragons and for what?" Amelia was angry, how could Teresa just change now? Surely there was something else going on.

This didn't feel right to Amelia, something was telling her that the worst is yet to come. Teresa stared up at Amelia once again, "Please Amelia, come see your father. He will tell you what he has seen, he promised not to harm you, your friends or your dragons."

Amelia let out a huff as she glared at Teresa, "Richard isn't my father, he gave away that title he tried to kill me twice for that matter. I still carry that mark" she stood up and took off her shirt showing her mother the word djöfull that was still thick into her skin. "This is the love he, you and Toby gave me the day you watched them try and kill me."

Hunter couldn't believe his eyes, he felt his eyes water as he had seen that mark on her back, he felt sick to his stomach, Amelia slowly put her shirt back on turning back around to face Teresa once again, she felt Hunter's hand grasp gently with hers as he stood beside her.

"Teresa... Amelia will help you but no requests of seeing her will be made, she is still traumatized from that day. You are lucky she hasn't left yet, if Richard wants to see her then he's got to come here where we can sit beside Amelia and keep her calm" Hunter explained, after finding Amelia in her bed explained why he heard murmuring from her some nights and the pain screams she did.

Teresa looked around and gulped, "Richard has changed a lot since he was forced to exile you Amelia... He's filled with pain and hatred in himself and Gandor itself. Richard hasn't got much time left to live Amelia... Please."

Amelia scoffed once again and wiped away a fallen tear, "He was forced. No he wasn't, he tried having me killed when I saved Ethrinria. I was 5 when he put the first attempt on my life but when he realised that Ethrinria had become close to me he backed off and waited until he gained her trust as well as mine back. He ripped me away placing shackles on my arms and let me watch my so called friends and family members laugh at me and throw things at me."

Amelia took a deep breath to calm herself down as her eyes began to shine a light pink colour, she turned away from Teresa. She couldn't handle this, she came here to save them not rekindle with her family. Hunter rubbed Amelia's back gently.

"Just deep breaths Amelia... I know it's hard," Hunter whispered as he placed a kiss on her hairline as he pulled her into a hug. "Be strong, be who you are not who they want you to be."

Amelia wrapped her arms around Hunter's waist gently taking a few deep breaths, she felt Hunter lift her chin up with his free hand smiling gently. "There we are... Perfect," he whispered as he witnessed the pinkness in her eye slowly fade. He remembers Amelia telling him to always help calm her down if she gets too wired up.

Amelia looked at Teresa once again and cleared her throat, "I will meet up with Richard but only if you agree that Abigail gets to come with us when we leave. But if I find out you have been lying to us about why we are here, you are going to wish that you never had me?" She warned.

Translations: Ég kalla til þín, ég kalla saman púkana í undirheimunum til að taka á móti þessum stelpum anda, hamingju og sál það sem eftir er ævinnar. Ég kalla til þín. Ég kalla til þín- I summon thy, I summon the demons of the underworld to take hold of this girls spirit, happiness and soul for the rest of her life. I summon thy. I summon thy

djöfull- demon

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Seventeen

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

— 

When Trouble Comes To Town, Men Like Me Come Around

“Hey, where the hell were you two?”

“Huntin’.” Arthur dropped the three turkeys they’d shot on the way back onto Pearson’s table.

Pearson grumbled something under his breath.

“What did you say?”

“I thought you’d gone.”

Arthur frowned as his hands went to his belt. “What?”

“After... what happened, I thought you’d both gone.”

His jaw moved slightly as he looked at him. “Well, we ain’t. We ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

Pearson nodded, and Ada thought he was going to say something else when his head bowed and he studied the state the turkeys were in. “So, uh, where did you get—”

“Oh, you’re a fuckin’ peach, ain’t you?”

“And you’re better than all of us, are you?!”

She turned with Arthur to watch Karen storming after Miss Grimshaw, coming up the path from the river. Both women looked thunderous.

“At least I didn’t fuckin’ shoot someone who didn’t even know what was goin’ on, you miserable bitch!” Karen yelled and Grimshaw turned sharply, halting and thrusting a finger at her.

“Listen here, you little ungrateful cunt, I did us all a favour!”

“You did yourself a favour, you’ve been wantin’ her gone since Dutch cast you aside and took her in!”

“They ain’t stopped since,” Pearson muttered behind them, and Arthur released a long breath.

Starting to move forward, he murmured, “I better—”

“No, Arthur,” Ada murmured, her hand settling on his arm making him stop.

It seemed Susan had had enough, though, her face red and twisted.

“You don’t know what you’re talkin about, you bitch.”

“Oh, ho, I don’t?” Karen’s hands went to her hips. “You get real fuckin’ sad when you drink, Susan, and you don’t fuckin’ shut up so I know what I’m talkin’ about.”

“You keep away from me!” Susan hissed, turning on her heel and striding towards the fire pit.

Karen scoffed, for once not looking delighted that she’d gotten the upper-hand. “Gladly.”

Turning, she, too, strode away, nearing Arthur and Ada. Lifting her head, she stopped abruptly as she caught sight of them, her gaze flicking between them. Her eyes settled on Ada and her lips pressed together. Then, she turned, heading in another direction.

Swallowing, Ada released Arthur’s arm as he turned to her, arching an eyebrow.

She gave a small smile as she lowered her voice. “It’s better if we just leave them to it, let them get it all out.”

He nodded, then his hand lifted and rubbed her arm as he sighed, his eyes scanning the rest of the camp. “Let’s find Sadie, see what’s been goin’ on.”

They found their friend down by the river, guarding the small path. Her features lit up at the sight of them, shouldering her rifle and striding towards them.

“Hey, I got a plan to get John, now,” she said before either of them could even open their mouths.

“You do?” Arthur didn’t sound particularly surprised.

She nodded, keeping her voice low. “Yeah, we can’t all go, though, it’ll be too suspicious. I’ve just had to talk Abigail out of comin’ with me, for Jack’s sake, and she’s mad as hell.”

“I’m comin’ with you,” Arthur answered instantly.

Ada pressed her lips together slightly but said nothing.

Sadie inclined her head at him. “All right. Now, we obviously ain’t tellin’ Dutch.”

Ada almost laughed. “Yeah, good idea.”

The older woman turned her gaze to her. “Can you stay here and just, make sure he doesn’t suspect anythin’? Say we’ve gone huntin’ or somethin’?”

“Yeah, sure.” 

Maybe we’ll just have another explosive argument, that’ll keep him occupied.

“Thanks. We shouldn’t take long but, just incase.”

“Of course.” She raised her eyebrows, releasing a breath. “Look after each other, please.”

“We will, I promise.” Her friend’s features softened for a moment before she was patting Arthur’s arm and heading back up towards the camp. “C’mon, we ain’t got a lot of time.”

“All right, give me a minute.”

Ada’s gaze shifted from Sadie’s back to meet Arthur’s, a light smile pulling at her lips. He returned it as his hand went to her arm again, squeezing gently.

“I’ll see you later.”

“Bye. Be safe, please.”

“I will.” His smile lingered as he pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then he was turning and following after Sadie.

Ada folded her arms as she watched him walk away, her heart twisting slightly. He was eager to get back out there, to be useful, to save his brother, she understood that, but she’d only just got him back, what if—

No, no, don’t think about that... He’s with Sadie, they’ll both be fine.

Occupied, she needed to keep herself occupied.

Blowing out a breath, she headed back up to the camp, reaching it just in time to see them riding away. No one looked up, unbothered. It was like she could feel the very life had gone out of the camp, and she knew it couldn’t all be down to Molly’s death, though that was still going to be raw.

She found her few things on Arthur’s bed, grateful that whoever had set it up had taken the initiative and grouped their things together.

It was a lovely, strange mile-stone, a quiet acceptance of what they were.

How long would that acceptance last, though? She glanced up, trying to find if anyone was watching her but, again, people were unbothered.

It’s in their minds, though.

Stop it.

She pulled a blanket down across the small space, the garment acting as a curtain so she could change in privacy. With Arthur having ripped most of the buttons off of her blouse, not that she’d complained too much, though she had complained as they’d dressed, earning a smirk from him, she’d had to just wear the flimsy corset and her jacket, buttoning it entirely and praying they wouldn’t be stopped on the way back. It was a crisp, almost cold day but she and Arthur had moved quickly, having no difficulty in hunting the turkeys and then cantering back.

She pulled on a light blue blouse, one that she’d bought from a group of travellers she and Sadie had encountered, the colour reminding her of a shirt Arthur had.

She’d worn it the day he’d returned, almost like she’d known. Then again, she wore it nearly every single day so she couldn’t really put it down to fate.

After buttoning it, she brushed the blanket aside and stepped out, tucking the blouse into her trousers. She left her gunbelt and jacket on the bed, not planning on leaving the camp due to her mission, and there were plenty of guns around if trouble came.

Her gaze drifted to Dutch’s tent as she straightened the sleeves. The opening of it moved gently with the breeze and she could just glimpse him in there, lying on the bed, napping, possibly.

That makes this a lot easier.

She was planning on just sitting on Arthur’s bed and keeping her eyes fixed on the tent when Jack’s faint giggle drew her attention away, making her heart twinge.

Abigail.

Rounding the wagon, she found mother and son a short distance away from the camp, Abigail sat up against her tree, hugging her legs as she watched her son draw in the mud with a stick. Ada glanced back over her shoulder to Dutch’s tent.

He won’t move, and if he does then, well, guess I could start up that argument.

Abigail raised her head at the sound of someone approaching, twigs snapping beneath boots. Ada smiled warmly as the woman’s alert gaze met her own.

“Hey, Abigail.”

She relaxed a little, letting out a breath. “Hey, Annie.”

Ada sat down next to her with a soft groan, wiping her hands against her thighs, watching Jack along with his mother. He was drawing random shapes and swirls, then occasionally stabbing the mud with the end of the stick and giggling at the sound it made as he pulled it back out. A smile pulled at her lips.

“I’m gonna have to wash all his clothes, again,” Abigail sighed, prompting a soft laugh from Ada.

“Can’t you just leave them? From how frequently and earnestly he gets them dirty, I think it’s a strong choice.”

His mother huffed out a sound, maybe a laugh. “Can’t have him being too much like his father.”

Ada turned her head to her, her smile fading a little. “How are you doing?” she asked quietly.

Abigail kept her gaze on Jack, gripping her legs. “Arthur’s gone with her, hasn’t he?”

“Yeah.”

She released a breath. “Good.” She nodded a few times then. “That makes me feel a little better.”

“That’s good.”

They fell into silence as Ada watched Jack, too, the boy now trying to squish leaves into the mud.

“How are you doin’?”

Abigail’s quiet, gentle question made her blink as her gaze returned to her.

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

She searched her features, finding genuine concern there, knowing there was more to it. So she took a chance.

“Abigail...” she began, lowering her voice even further, almost whispering. “... What Molly said, about me—”

Abigail took her hand, shaking her head. “It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it here, now.”

She swallowed lightly as Abigail squeezed her hand. “Okay.”

The other woman nodded then released her, hugging her legs again. Ada gazed at her for a few moments longer before looking back to Jack, playing with her ring. The small act of kindness was threatening to bring tears to her eyes. She couldn’t tell if Abigail believed it or not, but the very notion that she would listen, in time, bolstered her.

They sat in silence for a little while, both women thinking about the men they loved and not saying so for fear of upsetting the other. It wasn’t until the boy raced after a butterfly that Abigail sighed and pushed herself up with a groan.

“Come find me later,” she murmured before striding off after her son, her skirt billowing in the breeze.

Ada watched her go as she got to her feet, trying to ignore the twinge in her heart.

If anything happens, I’ll get them out.

Don’t think about that.

She made her way back to the centre of the camp, looking to anyone who might be watching, which they weren’t, as if she was just getting herself something to drink. She poured herself some fresh water from a wooden jug into a tin cup, taking a long drink, her eyes fixed on Dutch’s tent. He was still in there, still sleeping.

This was turning out to be a lot more boring than she’d expected. Swallowing the last of the water, she placed the cup down and wiped her mouth.

What to do, what to do, what to do...

...

Guess I could take a watch.

No one had taken over from Sadie so it left the small lane unguarded and, after the last couple of days, she could do with just one day of no bad surprises. Returning to Arthur’s tent, she pulled her jacket on and then secured her gunbelt around her waist before taking one last glance at Dutch’s tent and then heading around the wagon to the path.

It was quiet around here, almost eerily so sometimes, the only sound the rustling of the trees, some small animals, or the gentle rush of the river. Taking up Sadie’s position, she angled her back so it faced the camp and she could keep an eye on the other bank and the path that stretched ahead. 

It took all of two minutes before her mind began to wander.

When they returned with John, and they would return, she’d insist to Arthur that they make a plan. She knew he wouldn’t just leave, not unless he knew everyone would be okay. The gang would have to be in a good position... or not a gang at all.

Increasingly, it was seeming like the latter was the way fate was taking them.

If only they could get some people to leave, others would then go, too... maybe if they got John, Abigail and Jack away—

She fell forward with a sharp gasp as something blunt collided against the back of her head, and the world went black.

—

“... stop it, I want that...” 

“Nuh-uh, I gots my hands on it first!”

“That ain’t fair!”

“Shut up!”

Her head ached and her face felt wet. Slowly opening her eyes, she had to blink several times for her vision to focus. At first all she saw was leaves and trees, realising the wetness on her face was due to her cheek being pressed against mud.

“He said I could have what I wants!”

“He said we could have what we wants!”

Her gaze slid up to the two men sat nearby, one of them holding her jacket, the other her boots. Ah, that’s why she felt so cold.

Murfree Brood. They had to be. She’d never encountered them, but it was hard to not recognise them for who they were.

Something grabbed her foot suddenly and she gasped sharply, her head twisting to see what it was. 

A third Murfree grinned at her, spit sliding out of the corners of his mouth. He laughed gleefully, gripping her ankle tightly. “Hey, lady, you got pretty toes, I’m gonna cuts off one little toe first, then all the other pink little toes, then I’m gonna wear ‘em as a pretty pink necklace.”

Oh, fuck...

“Hey, hey, she’s awake!” one of the other men said, the argument swiftly ending.

Gritting her teeth, her heart and head pounding, she tried to push herself up before realising her wrists had been tied together tightly. Too tightly. Her fingers were tingling from the lack of circulation.

“Pretty, pretty toes...” The Murfree holding her foot sang, his other hand searching in the pocket of his overalls.

The other two men stepped closer, leaning over her.

The one holding her jacket, patches of long, thin hair on his head, grinned, revealing missing teeth. “I’m gonna cut your hair, it’s so bright and pretty.”

Her gaze darted down as she suddenly felt the cold flat of a knife against her foot. The drooling man giggled, waving the knife. “I can’t wait to get me a pretty new necklace—”

He yelled in shock as her other leg lashed out and her heel struck him in the nose, sending him falling back. Grabbing at his face, he howled in pain, sobbing, and she tried to push herself up. The man with thin hair dropped the jacket and grabbed her shoulders, though, shaking her hard and making her already sore head spin.

“That ain’t nice!” he yelled, and she could hear the other man trying to console the crying one.

“Fuck off,” she hissed through her teeth, feeling queasy and cold.

“That ain’t nice either!” He shook her again and she closed her eyes tightly.

Then he dropped her and she grunted as her back collided with the ground.

“You okay, Den?”

The crying man whimpered in reply, blood seeping through the fingers he held against his face. The man who held her boots, his hair dark and balding, glared at her, baring his teeth.

The man above her huffed out a breath before lunging down, his arm sweeping out, and he scooped the knife up. Turning back to her, his other hand gripped the front of her shirt and he tugged her upper body off the ground, making her groan.

His face inches from hers as he leaned over, spit landed on her cheeks as he hissed, “I’m gonna cut your hair off and you’re gonna apologise to Den for bein’ a nasty bitch and then you’re gonna make it up to him and—”

Short gunfire erupted.

The Murfrees barely had time to cry out. She stared at the man standing over her as a bullet tore through his face, spots of blood landing on hers, and his grip instantly loosened on her as he died and then his body was crumbling, falling on top of her as she fell back.

Gasping out her breaths in shock as she landed, her eyes wide, she felt panic clawing its way up her throat as the dead man lay on her, his features now unrecognisable. Gritting her teeth, she grunted as it took three attempts to shove him off of her completely.

Sucking in deep, harsh breaths, she then went to turn over, wanting to see who had saved her, when a shadow fell across her.

“Fuckin’ inbred trash,” Colm O’Driscoll tutted, his gun by his side as he looked down at the body.

In her peripheral vision, she saw men moving behind him, going to the bodies and their little camp, but she just stared up at him.

Oh, fuck...

Holstering his gun, Colm’s gaze then shifted to her and he smiled. Bending at the knees, he gripped her under the arms. “Come on, darlin’, don’t wanna be hangin’ ‘round here too long.”

Hauling her up with a grunt, she winced, finding that her feet were so cold she could barely feel them as she stood.

“Jesus, you’re shiverin’. Hey, Zach, hand me that...”

A tall dark-haired man with a large beard picked her jacket up and tossed it to Colm who caught it and then draped it around her shoulders. She just continued to stare at him, silent.

He hummed as he removed a knife from his belt with one hand and gripped her arm with the other, keeping her hands out so he could cut through the rope. It took a couple of attempts but then her hands were free, and she hissed out a breath as she started to rub at the red marks they had left, blood rushing back into her fingers.

“These yours?”

She glanced at Colm as he accepted her boots from Zach, arching an eyebrow.

She nodded silently.

“All right.” He dropped them near her feet and turned away, his hands going to his hips as he surveyed the small camp, watching his men search the bodies of the Murfrees.

After tugging her jacket on, Ada then bent down and pulled the boots back on, tying them tightly. Her gaze darted about the ground, trying to locate her guns and gunbelt. They were nowhere to be seen.

Fuck.

Once she’d finished tying them, straightening, she still felt cold so she folded her arms tightly, trying to warm herself. Her eyes lifting, she found Zach stood a few feet away, watching her.

Probably making sure I don’t go anywhere.

Wonderful.

She still felt queasy, too, possibly from the knock to her head... and also the Murfree’s destroyed face which she was very much avoiding looking at.

“All right, let’s go, boys.”

The men, seven of them, started to move at Colm’s announcement, and the man himself approached her once more, nodding his head in the direction they were heading. 

“Come on, darlin’, our camp ain’t too far away.” 

He held an arm out, gesturing for her to walk first. She paused for a moment, before moving with a long exhale. What choice did she have?

He fell into step with her and rubbed his hands together, glancing at her with a smile. “We heard all the hollerin’ and fancied havin’ a little fun. Who’d have guessed what we’d come back with, huh?”

She remained silent.

“Oh, you ain’t gonna talk to me, is that it?”

Silence.

“Ain’t gonna thank your uncle for savin’ your life?”

Silence.

... and she felt very, very queasy.

“Ahh, that’s all right, I didn’t do it for the—”

She stopped abruptly and doubled over, vomiting onto the damp grass. Her eyes were shut tightly but she heard Colm let out a whistle before feeling a hand rubbing her back.

“Jesus, girl... All right, get it out...”

She heaved again but this time nothing came out, so she spat to rid the awful taste from her mouth, sucking in deep breaths. She was shaking and she didn’t know if it was from the cold still or from how peculiar she felt.

“Zach, can you...?”

She just had time to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand before she was suddenly swept up with a gasp. Staring at Zach as he carried her bridal-style, she tried to push herself out of his arms, albeit weakly.

“What are you—”

“Don’t fuckin’ start, all right, just let the man carry you,” Colm sighed as they walked, Zach looking ahead and not saying a word.

She pressed her lips together, folding her arms, her body tense, but again... no choice.

The camp was only a few minutes away, and despite the current circumstances it felt good to have some time to try and breathe and settle her stomach. It gave her a chance to recognise the woodland, too. They weren’t too far away from Beaver Hollow, she thought, they couldn’t be, the sun was still relatively in the same position. She could escape, she could get back, maybe even before Sadie and Arthur returned. There’d be no need for him to worry, God, she didn’t want to worry him, not when they’d just got each other back.

The trees thinned out into a small clearing and the men broke off to either the fire pit or one of the three tents set up. Two wagons resided to the right and there were probably four or five men here, talking and laughing. She kept her arms folded tightly, her gaze darting between them.

“This way.”

Her eyes returned to Colm, staring at his back and watching him head to the smallest tent, Zach following him. A blonde man sat on a chair outside it, a small table next to him, though he quickly rose from it and trotted away as Colm neared, and as they approached Zach lowered her and set her down on it. She resisted the instinct to thank him, instead just keeping her mouth shut and staring at the ground. He turned and walked away instantly though, not waiting for gratitude.

Humming again, Colm picked up a cloth from the table and dunked it into a bucket of water, squeezing some out of it before turning to her.

As he gripped her chin with his free hand, she hissed as the wet cloth touched her skin, ice cold, which was the last thing she needed. He chuckled, continuing to wipe the specks of blood and mud from her face.

“I don’t think you could be any more pissed off with me, huh?”

She just looked at him, her features tight, jaw clenched.

He chuckled again, wiping hard at her skin. “Don’t tell me you’re the strong, silent type now, huh? I kinda miss you bein’ all loud and shouty.”

She didn’t saw a word, just let him clean her face, willing to make allowances now that she hadn’t been tied up again and he hadn’t demanded a ‘thank you’.

  “What happened to your face?” he said after barely two seconds, gesturing at her scar.

The gentle tone of the question surprised her. 

“Nothing.”

Damn it.

“Oh, she speaks,” he grinned, gentle tone gone, and tilted his head. “Dutch do that? Or one of his boys?”

She was already shaking her head, her brow dipping at the insinuation. “No, no... Pinkerton agent did it.”

“When?”

Well, I’m already talking and he’s not gonna shut up...

“When we had to escape from where we were staying, a place called Shady Belle.” 

“Ah, yeah, I heard about that.” The grin returned as he wiped at her chin. “How is Dutch doin’? Heard he’s just come back from a nice trip.”

Exhaling a weary breath, she moved her head away from his grip, his movements pausing. “What are you doing here, Colm.”

He raised his eyebrows innocently. “Here? Just cleanin’ up my wayward niece.”

She wasn’t in any kind of a mood for this. “I mean this far east.”

Colm grinned, placing his free hand on his chest. “I’m here by invitation, darlin’. You met him, didn’t you, Angelo Bronte? Italian feller, greasy as they come?” She gave no reaction to the mention of the man who’d held Jack and she’d once been hell-bent on killing, but Colm was continuing anyway. “He extended a little invitation to me some time ago. I’d say it’s been a very prosperous relationship indeed, despite Dutch killin’ him which I’m pretty pissed about but, hey, from it I got Dutch cornered, got me better guns and business here, got my niece back—”

  “You don’t have me back.”

He sighed, dabbing repetitively at her nose and making her pull her head back to try and get it away. “C’mon, join us, Adaline, it don’t make no sense for you to be runnin’ ‘round alone—”

She snatched the cloth out of his hand, wiping it against her forehead because it suddenly felt warm. “I’m not alone.”

He chuckled, folding his arms as he leaned against the table. “Ah, yes... your little affair with Arthur.”

She froze, her eyes darting to him. “What—”

He tilted his head. “That’s how we knew where you was campin’, darlin’, down at that big house, Shady Belle. Followed you back there after your stay at that fancy hotel. Kieran just decided to take a little walk at the wrong time—”

She rose to her feet, raging. “You bastard—”

His hand was already on her shoulder, easily shoving her back into the chair. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a bastard. I ain’t any worse than Dutch, though.”

She fell silent once more, folding her arms and staring out across the grass.

He laughed, and she didn’t think she could hate him any more. “Nah, you can’t argue with that. ‘specially with all the time you’ve been spendin’ with him—”

“Where’s Thomas.”

He blinked in surprise as her gaze met his, then smiled. “You believe me, then?”

She released another weary breath. “I just want to know the truth, Colm. I’m tired of it all.”

Her uncle shifted his stance slightly, tilting his head. “Well, he ain’t here.”

That was it, then, finally, what she’d known all along, he is dead, he—

“He’s out with scouting groups.” Her eyes met his again as he smiled. “Tryna get rid of the last of these Murfree fuckers. This is good land.”

She stared at him.

It had to be lies.

“You’re a sick man—”

He just spoke over her. “We’re regroupin’ soon, though, west of here.”

She’d had enough, again. 

Standing, she smiled tightly. “Well, you can send me a letter when he gets back.”

She was about to stride away when his hand was on her shoulder once more and he pushed her back down, chuckling, it all too easy as she was still a little unsteady on her feet.

“Every time I forget just how damn funny you are.” He placed a hand on his hip, the other on the table as he looked at her. “You know you ain’t goin’ anywhere. Sooner you get used to it, sooner you’ll be happier.”

Smiling brightly, he then straightened and clapped his hands together. “All right, I’ll see if I can get someone to get you some food. Don’t you move, now!”

He strode away, whistling, and she stared at his retreating back, her lip almost curling into a snarl, her fists clenched. It had to all be a lie. Another game he was playing for his own, unknown amusement. It was all too convenient, Thomas not being here, meeting with him ‘soon’. What the hell did ‘soon’ mean, anyway? Well, she wasn’t going to hang around long enough to find out. Her gaze shifting from Colm, she played with the cloth in her hands, surveying the camp.

It was a mess in the most sparse of ways, if that was possible. Another table beside one of the other tents, what looked like it had maps strewn across it with a couple of tins and an empty glass bottle. A few blankets balled up here and there along with saddlebags, even more tins lying around. The wagons were half-filled with a few sealed crates and sacks filled with something she couldn’t identify, unevenly shaped. She could hear horses but couldn’t see them, they must be somewhere behind her or one of the wagons. The men sat around the fire, talking, sleeping or drinking. Zach was with them, watching her. Her eyes quickly left his and looked to the treeline. She could see a man there, guarding. If she just waited until it was dark then she could sneak out and hide in the trees and be back in camp by morning and then—

“Hello!”

She jolted, her head whipping to the side.

An Irish boy, well, young man, really, with shoulder-length, strawberry-blonde hair, possibly a few years younger than her, stopped abruptly, raising his hands as the grin faded into a sheepish smile. “Woah, hey, sorry. I forget how loud m’ voice is.”

She eyed him, still. “What do you want.”

His smiled widened a little more. “Nothin’, really, I just wanted to say hello.”

“Why.”

He was rather taken aback at that. “... Because it’s polite.”

She just continued to stare at him, trying to work out what his ulterior motives could be. He lowered his hands and took a few steps closer.

“I’m Peter, the camp doctor. And, well, I’m here for another reason, too. Colm wants me to have a look at ye.”

“I’m fine.” 

He nodded, taking a slight breath. “Sure, sure, he just wants me to double check.”

“I’m fine.”

He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, lowering his voice gently. “Look, I might be polite but I think ye know Colm always gets his way.”

Her jaw moved. Well, he wasn’t wrong there. Shrugging, she looked away, releasing a breath.

“Fine.”

Taking the granted permission, he took the last few steps closer and cleared his throat. “May I?”

She glanced at him and his raised hands and nodded.

“Thank you.” One hand settled on her forehead, the other on the back, feeling the small lump from where she’d been hit, which made her wince.

Fucking Murfrees. She hadn’t had time to think about it but now she did... what the hell were they doing so close to camp? Trying to take back their land? Shit, another thing to worry about.

“The bump should go in a few days,” Peter was murmuring, “Ye’re a little warm, too, but that could be from all the excitement.”

Lord, give me strength.

She raised her eyes to him. “Yes, because I’ve never experienced excitement before.”

He laughed sheepishly. “Yes, sorry, I bet ye have. Does ye’re head hurt?”

“It aches a little, yes.”

“I’ll get ye some water, you should be okay tomorrow.” He removed his hands and she looked at him, watching his nose wrinkle as he studied her. Smiling gently, he gestured at her face. “What’s this?”

She assumed what he was referring to. “A scar.”

He laughed nervously again and she probably would have felt guilty if she wasn’t so pissed off. 

“Stupid question. How’d it happen?”

“A knife.”

“Right...” He cleared his throat, then pointed at her throat. “And this other scar? How’d this happen?”

“From when a man held a knife to my throat as Dutch van der Linde killed my father.”

There was a pause. It went on so long her eyes rose to look at him to see what he was doing. His mouth was moving slightly, a sympathetic frown on his features.

“I know about that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

She just hummed, his sincerity finally starting to make the guilt creep in.

“Does anywhere else hurt?” he asked gently after a moment.

“No.”

“You sure?”

Go easy on him.

Licking her lips, her eyebrows rose slightly. “My wrists ache but it’s fine.”

“Yeah, that’ll just be from how they’d had ye tied, it should have gone by tomorrow. Let me know if it doesn’t. Ye’re shakin’, too, lemme get ye a blanket...”

She watched him duck into the tent and come out moments later with a thick green blanket, allowing him to drape it around her. She was about to ease up a little more and thank him when his hand went for the cloth.

“C’mere, ye still got some blood on ye—”

She moved her hand away. “I can do it.”

He instantly drew his hand back, smiling lightly. “All right. It’s just on ye’re left cheek there.”

She began to wipe at it, expecting him to make some kind of an awkward, drawn out goodbye, but he just stood there, his hands clasped together. 

“Can I ask ye a question?”

Guilt was still very much lingering so she didn’t want to abruptly turn him away. “Sure.” 

“What’s he like?”

She paused in her wiping, taking a moment to fold the cloth. “Who?”

“Dutch.”

Ada exhaled a breath, having half-expected it. “I don’t want to talk about him right now.”

Was this his ulterior motive? Had Colm asked him to gain her trust and then enquire about Dutch? See what state he was in? She had no love for either men but giving information to Colm that might hurt Dutch was something she’d never do. Hurting Dutch meant hurting Arthur, unfortunately.

Peter was all apologies. “Sure, sorry, I was just curious.”

I bet you were... but maybe he just genuinely is.

Glancing at him, she then looked away again, staring at the ground as she twisted the cloth in her hands.

“What do you want to talk about, then?”

Why isn’t he going... Lord, please give me all your strength.

“I don’t.”

“Oh, all right.” The guilt came again at his crestfallen tone, but he brightened a moment later as she looked at him. “I’ll get ye that water and maybe somethin’ to eat, yeah?”

“That would be nice.”

“All right. I won’t be long!”

Watching him walk away, she took in a long breath.

You can be back at camp by morning, just wait until it’s dark and most of them are asleep.

Just wait.

—

The tent was to be hers that night, Peter told her when he returned with a bowl of tasteless stew and a tin cup of warm water. He said it with a smile, like it was a lovely treat. Looking at the state of the camp, it seemed like it was, though.

Situated a little way from the camp fire, they could still keep an eye on her, and she sat on the ground outside it, the blanket still wrapped around her, staring at the grass as darkness fell, lost in her thoughts, mentally mapping out the area and, depending on which main road she was closest to, the quickest way back to Beaver Hollow.

No one approached her or said a word, even Peter left her alone, having finally taken the hint, hopefully, but every now and then she’d look up and find Zach’s eyes still on her. She’d just return her gaze to the ground.

To them she probably just looked tired, dejected, resigned, but she was just biding her time, waiting for them to relax a little more, to drink more, to sleep, to leave longer gaps between when they looked at her.

She did feel odd, though, hot all over, almost feeling hot inside, the sensation having overtaken her rather suddenly about an hour ago, but maybe it was just the blanket. She kept it on, though, the night cold. Her head pounded still, too, but, as Peter had said, that would go soon.

She glanced up at the men. Colm was sat amongst them, smoking a cigarette and drinking from a flask, quiet, smiling, looking at each man as they spoke. Zach was beside him and, thankfully, for once not looking at her, watching the flame of his match as he lit his own cigarette.

A loud laugh went up suddenly from the group and she took her chance.

Pushing the blanket off, she crawled under the table and around the tent. She hoped they would just assume she’d gone in the tent, but she knew that was just wishful thinking; one of them would check, just in case, most likely Zach. 

So, knowing time was precious and keeping low, she instantly ran to the trees, straightening only when she was several feet into the woodland. The density of the trees made it seem darker than it was but she hoped that would aid her.

Then she heard shouting from the camp. They had realised what had happened.

She kept running, bowing slightly as she went up an incline. It didn’t matter where she was going, she’d find her way back to Beaver Hollow, she had to, she had to get—

A bullet sounded, then more shouts.

“Don’t fuckin’ kill her!” she heard Colm thunder over the rest of the voices, sounding closer.

With a grimace, she tried to run faster, her leg starting to ache, head pounding, the odd feeling lingering no matter how many deep breaths she inhaled. The men were drawing near, though, she could hear them calling to one another.

“Here! She’s this way!”

Shit.

She was headed down the hill now, slipping slightly on the mud but she kept her footing. She could hear the river, close by, maybe only a few minutes away. If she got to it she could cross it, and then disappear into the trees there, or maybe even hide by some of the large rocks that were usually dotted along it, maybe she could bide her time and then—

Someone barrelled into her, knocking her to the ground.

Landing with a loud groan, her teeth slammed together, narrowly missing her tongue. The person was grabbing at her shoulders, trying to keep her down, but she was thrashing too much, trying to crawl forward as she hissed out sounds.

“Stop, stop it, okay, he’s really angry!”

Peter.

"Let me go,” she hissed, striking her elbow back and knocking him in the chest.

He grunted at the impact but was stronger than he looked, or was she weaker? She certainly felt weak, drained, even.

“I can’t, I’m sorry, please, the others are comin’, they won’t be as nice—”

“I have to get back,” she was hissing, still trying to crawl forward, kicking her legs back in an attempt to push him away.

Tears were pricking at her eyes as she thought about Arthur, imagined him returning to camp, unable to find her, no one knowing where she was, what he would be thinking.

I have to get back to him, I just told him I love him, I can’t leave him, I can’t—

Peter’s weight was suddenly off of her and she released a breath, but before she could surge forward, one hand gripped the back of her jacket and an arm slid under her and then she was hauled up and on to someone’s shoulder.

Zach’s.

He was instantly walking, heading back towards the camp, his arm like a vice around her lower back, keeping her in place. That didn’t stop her from trying to push herself up, though, her hands gripping at the back of his jacket, her legs kicking out again. He didn’t move or say anything, just continued walking, and her struggles were useless.

Why was she so drained?

She could hear the rest of the men catching their breath or coughing out curses, not entirely delighted at having been made to unexpectedly sprint through the woods. She ignored them, trying to blink the tears away because the last thing she was going to let happen would be Colm seeing her cry.

He was angry? Good. So was she, but she would bide her time until she got the upper-hand because, God help her, she would.

Zach halted abruptly and when he set her down, surprisingly carefully, she turned and found they were back at the camp, the fire glowing to her right. It didn’t have her attention, though, because a foot away stood Colm, flask in one hand, finger tapping against it, resting his weight on one foot, his other hand hanging by his side, cigarette resting between his fingers.

His gaze was fixed on her, hard, unreadable. She held it, her chin lifted, breathing even.

What had he expected?

His tongue ran over his teeth and then he turned his head to the side, hawking and spitting. Tilting his head, his voice was light.

“If you try that again I will keep you tied to a post, you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Taking a drag on the cigarette, he nodded leisurely a few times before dropping it to the ground and pressing it into the damp grass with his boot.

“Well, all right, then.”

His hand suddenly lashed out, slapping her. It wasn’t particularly hard but the surprise of it was enough to have her already unsteady legs falling from beneath her. Zach caught her arms in time, though, holding her up, and she swiftly shook one of his hands off so she could raise her own to her stinging cheek.

Hissing out breaths through her teeth, shaking from what now she didn’t know, her eyes tracked Colm, the man having already turned away, watching him move back towards the fire to join his men.

“All right, where was we, then,” he called out loudly, resuming his seat as they continued their conversations like nothing had happened, their backs to her.

Zach was still gripping one of her arms so she wrenched it out of his grip, though she knew it came free more from him allowing it than her own strength.

“I think it’d be best if you went to sleep.”

She stiffened slightly at his voice, American, deep but quiet, and for some reason it made the tears return to her eyes. Sniffing, she dropped her hand from her cheek and swallowed hard. Without saying a word, she turned and moved past him, heading for the tent. If she’d deigned to look at the men around the fire she would have found Peter watching her, regretful, torn.

Stooping and entering the tent, taking the blanket she’d left at the entrance with her, she settled on her knees, letting the flap fall closed behind her. It was tiny, only enough space for her to lie down and maybe lay a few items next to her. She only had her jacket and boots. She just removed the jacket, and realised as she did so that her shirt was sticking to her skin, a light sheen of sweat covering her. Had the run been that strenuous?

Lying down on the bedroll, it was thin but it’d do, she pulled the blanket over herself, rested her head on her arm and closed her eyes, willing sleep to come quickly.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

Tomorrow she would come up with a plan.

Tomorrow she would leave.

—

The next morning she could barely move. Her entire body ached and she felt hot and cold all at once, shaking.

Peter, thankfully, was the one to come and check on her when she didn’t emerge, guilt still troubling him. Taking one look at her, guilt turned to concern and he placed the back of his hand against her forehead.

“Think ye got a fever,” he murmured, pressing his lips together. “Nothin’ too serious I don’t think, but we’re gonna have to wait for it to break.”

Ada just nodded slightly, her throat too sore for her to speak.

“I’ll get ye some water and see what medicines I’ve got, all right?”

He smiled gently before exiting, and she just felt like crying.

Just let me go, just take me to a doctor in town, I don’t want to be here...

“She ain’t up yet?” Colm, stood right outside her tent by the sounds of it.

To no surprise, so was Zach. “Peter says she got a fever.”

“What? Awh, shit...” She heard him hawk and spit. “... We’re still movin’ on today. You and Peter look after her, do what you can, keep up.”

“Will do, boss.”

She heard Colm walk away, whistling to himself.

A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye. They were going to move on, taking her further away from Beaver Hollow. And with how awful she felt... It could be days before she could even sit up without feeling queasy. She’d had a couple of fevers before as a child, could remember how awful she’d felt for days, how her mother had tended to her, had tried to soothe her as she’d cried, wanting to play with her brother.

Peter returned then with a small bag and a skin of water, and she was suddenly struck with how young he was. Maybe even still a teenager. What the hell was he doing here as a doctor? Could he even look after her properly?

She licked her dry lips and swallowed, wincing with the motion. “Take me to the doctor in town,” she rasped.

He glanced at her, and she thought she saw guilt in his eyes before he resumed looking through his bag. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Please...” she murmured, and she thought she had him when he paused again, his eyes closing briefly.

“Ada, I can’t,” he whispered, placing his hand over her clammy one unexpectedly. “I’m sorry but I can’t and ye know it. But I will take care o’ ye and ye will be fine, I promise.”

She just looked at him, knowing her eyes were shining. She didn’t care, now, if she cried, she just felt so awful, every single part of her aching.

“Pete, we got ten minutes then we gotta go,” Zach called, and Peter’s hand left hers, quickly going through his bag.

“All right!”

He had her drink some kind of a tonic, the thick, syrupy, sugary taste of it nearly making her gag.

“I think you just got t’ sweat it out, all right?”

‘I think’ didn’t fill her with confidence.

She nearly burst into tears when Peter helped her sit up and shifted her to the mouth of the tent so Zach could reach in and pick her up. Her body hurt so much but she knew Colm wouldn’t make any allowances for her. Knew even if she hadn’t tried to escape last night that he still wouldn’t have.

She was placed in one of the wagons on a pile of blankets, another one placed over her, and Peter sat in with her as Zach drove it. She stared up at the white canopy of the wagon, feeling every stone and dip the wheels of it went over. It felt almost like a dream, to the point where when she closed her eyes and fell asleep and did dream, she was still lying in the wagon, but now her mother was at her side, fussing and stroking her hair from her face.

“You’ll be all right, you’ll be okay, Mama’s here, darling...”

Peter pretended not to notice when, after she awoke only a few minutes later, the wagon jolting her out of it, silent tears poured down her cheeks.

She didn’t know how many days passed, the fact they moved every day not helping. Whenever she was awake and somewhat lucid, she was either in the wagon with Peter at her side, or in a tent. It sometimes took her a while to work out if it was real or not as her dreams were so vivid.

Her mother came to her often, humming a lullaby like she used to, telling her she’d be all right soon, that the weather is improving. Sean came, too, asking her what the hell she was doing, why she was wasting a perfectly good sunny day when she could be out robbing, making him proud. He was always smiling.

Then there were the dreams she had about Arthur.

Sometimes, she thought she could feel his arm around her, or his voice was in her ear, murmuring to her that she was okay, she was fine, he loved her even though she was a sweaty mess.

Then sometimes he’d be at the other end of the tent, asking where she was, why she was here.

No matter who came, though, they always looked slightly off, like it was them but wasn’t them. Her mother’s eyes were a different colour, Sean smiled differently, Arthur was expressionless, his voice bland.

Several times she thought she’d died and was in hell.

What she wouldn’t remember was Peter sat by her side for most if not all of it, hearing her mutterings and murmurings, hearing her mumble to people who weren’t there, barely able to make out what she was saying. Sometimes he’d have to place a hand on her shoulder to keep her still as she thrashed a little, telling her quietly she was all right, she was okay.

Zach was the only other person to visit, bringing Peter food and water for him and Ada. Sometimes he could get her to eat, when she was having a lucid period, could get her to have half a bottle of a tonic then some water before she’d be out again.

He thought about changing her out of her sweat-soaked clothes, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead he placed fresh garments he believed would fit by the opening of the tent, in case she woke in the rare times he wasn’t there.

And he kept watch, keeping his promise of looking after her.

—

When she awoke, she knew something was different.

She wasn’t hot or cold, just normal. She could see and hear properly, her body didn’t ache. She felt drained still but nowhere near as much as before. She was so thirsty, too, and hungry; she could feel her stomach groaning in protest.

Staring up at the roof of the tent, she just took in a few, even breaths, hoping this wasn’t a dream.

“Oh, hey.” Her gaze dropping sharply, she found Peter sat just outside the slightly open flap, smiling widely. “You’re awake.”

As he ducked his head into the tent, she swallowed, feeling like nails were in her throat.

“Water,” she croaked.

Peter paused, raising his eyebrows a little. “What?”

“Water.”

“Oh, shit, yeah, sorry...” His head ducked out before it returned again moments later, and he leaned in, offering her a skinful of water.

Pushing herself up, her arms shook a little but her head was fine. Accepting it, she took long sips, her eyes closed. She could feel Peter watching her, but it wasn’t until she finally lowered the skin that he spoke.

“You okay?”

She wiped her mouth with her fingers as she looked at him. “Little hungry.”

“Yeah, you’ve not eaten much, but this is good, means you’ve got ye’re appetite back.” He was grinning now, thoroughly pleased. “I’ll get ye somethin’—”

“How long?” she asked just as he started to turn away.

He understood what she meant, his features softening. “A week.”

She nearly felt sick.

“A week?” Her already hoarse voice cracked on the word.

Fuck... We could be anywhere by now.

Peter smiled sympathetically. “Yeah, ye... It wasn’t the worst I’ve seen but it was pretty bad.”

Ada just nodded, her eyes on the blankets covering her legs, trying not to cry. She heard Peter shift slightly.

“Do ye still want somethin’ to eat?”

Clearing her throat, wincing, she shook her head. “It’s all right, I’ll come out and get something. I could do with some fresh air.”

“Yeah, I think that’ll do ye good.”

There was a slight pause in which she met his gaze, and then she allowed a faint smile to lift her lips. “Thank you, for looking after me.”

He shook his head, returning the smile. “It’s all right, no need t’ thank me. ‘m just glad ye’re okay.” Pointing at a corner near him, he continued, “There’s clothes for ye here, they should fit. I’ll be by the fire.”

Before she could thank him again he was gone, the tent flap closing.

Closing her eyes, she ran a hand over her hair as her head bowed, feeling how dry it was but ignoring it for now.

A week.

They could be on the other side of the county, or in another one, miles and miles and miles away. It hurt her unbearably to think of Arthur, to think of how he must be feeling, what he was even doing. Would he be out looking for her? Would gang business keep him away? What if something awful had happened to them all?

She couldn’t cope with it, not now, not with how fragile she felt, so she shoved it to the back of her mind, focusing instead on something smaller; food.

She took her time changing into the odd assemble of black, pinstripe trousers and brown, faintly checked shirt. They were a little big, but once she’d tucked the shirt in and used her belt to tighten the trousers she deemed that they would do. Pulling her boots on, she then neatly folded her beloved blue shirt and her own trousers, and placed them on the bedroll. After running her fingers through a few knots in her hair, she took a breath, licked her dry lips, and moved out of the tent.

She was rather stiff as she straightened so she just stood for a few moments, rolling her shoulders and neck. As she did, grimacing, she surveyed the new camp. They were on top of a hill on a flat patch of grass, and for miles and miles all she could see was the tops of trees, nothing distinguishable anywhere. She took in a breath, fighting the faint feeling of panic that was starting to build.

It’s all right, you can find your way back to him, you will get back to him...

Is he even alive.

Stop it.

She didn’t want to think about that, that the mission to get John might have been unsuccessful. That any of them could have died.

Exhaling a breath, she looked towards the fire pit. She estimated it must be morning, a couple of hours until noon possibly, and the camp was quiet, a few men still sleeping. There were more blankets and saddlebags dotted around so she assumed they must have picked up some more O’Driscolls along the way, wherever the hell they were heading. She saw no sign of—

“Well, look at you, you made it.”

... Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

Turning her head, she watched Colm approach, tin cup in his hand, the other in his pocket, a lazy grin on his lips. It wasn’t until she saw him that she remembered he’d slapped her. It shouldn’t have surprised her but it had; despite the man he was she’d gotten the sense that he wouldn’t lay a hand on her, yes, even despite the fact he’d had her tied up previously. She’d thought there was some part of him that really did care for her, in his twisted way. What a fool she’d been.

She eyed him warily now, grateful that he stopped a few feet away, sipping his coffee.

“I did.”

The grin lingered. “Good, I would’ve hated to waste time buryin’ you.”

You bastard.

“Come on, boys!” he suddenly called out, in such a loud tone that some of the men sleeping jerked awake and she flinched. “We’re goin’ west to meet with the others.”

His gaze shifting to her, he smiled over the rim of his cup.

She knew what the smile meant; Thomas was supposedly going to be there.

Not giving him a reaction, she asked flatly, “When is this regroup happening.”

He shrugged a shoulder, still smiling. “Couple days.”

Fine. Just a couple of days and then she would have the truth.

—

They travelled for another week.

She would have thought it was on purpose if they didn’t move on every single day. They were always moving, heading west she could tell by the sun, but still a week passed with no sign of a regroup.

And so Ada was forced to acclimatise to what life was like in an O’Driscoll camp. 

It was nothing like Dutch’s where there was community and cohesion; here there was no organisation, she was more than certain the men stole from each other, and they found food and drink for themselves. A few would go hunting together and share what they killed but beyond that, nothing. From eavesdropping she gathered they were conducting business as they went, trading, bartering and killing when they stopped at night. She never saw any of it or was asked to go with any of them, though; both not trusted and not allowed to do anything, stuck between being a captive and their boss’s niece.

So with nothing to do, not even a book to read, all she could do was sit and watch and stare and think. Sulking, Colm called it once with a laugh, which just made her press her lips together and made her look like she was sulking even more.

It felt like torture, left with nothing but her thoughts.

She asked Peter if she could assist with anything but he was so adamant that she rest, so polite that he wouldn’t allow it, that to save herself from screaming she just gave up asking. She did sit with him, though, needing something, anything, to do, and she learned from his never-ending stream of consciousness that he had just turned twenty one and only recently come over from Ireland, his father, now a doctor, having known Colm in a former life. So Peter had arrived here, with a letter from his father, and asked around until he found them, and had been welcomed with open arms; there was always limbs to be reattached and wounds to heal. He was excited to be in America, giddy, even, and he either hadn’t witnessed was the O’Driscolls did, ignored it, or was frightened because he didn’t say a bad word against them, didn’t even raise a minor gripe, even when a few jokes were made at his expense. It was nice to make conversation with someone, though, to distract her, and he had saved her life.

She spent all the daytime hours with him, and he eventually did allow her to roll bandages and repair them, though that was it. When they travelled she would sit in a wagon with him, almost bored to tears as they took turns pointing out things they saw.

Zach watched her constantly, even when she bathed in any rivers or lakes they came to, but he never leered, never stared, never even spoke, just stared at a part of the water near her so she was in his peripheral vision, and then above her head when she got out, even though she’d opted to keep her underclothes on. That was useless, though, as they just stuck to her body, but there was no one around to see; no one dared sneak a peek. She quickly realised the men both deeply respected and were kind of afraid of Zach, and she didn’t think it was just to do with how tall he was. He was silent, muscular, and had huge revolvers strapped to his belt and she didn’t doubt that he very much knew how to use them. He shared his food and drink with her, he seemed to have an endless supply of tinned goods, and they sat in silence together, which she didn’t mind one bit. She did murmur a thank you every time, though; she was her mother’s daughter.

His ever watchful gaze gave her no chance to slip away.

At night, tears would trail down her cheeks at knowing Arthur was out there, her heart aching unbearably. What if he thought she was dead, his heart breaking all over again. Would he give up? What if he was grieving her. Spiralling, doing stupid things in disbelief and anger. The darkest, cruellest parts of her mind whispered to her that what if he thought she’d gone, disappeared when she’d had the chance. She was aching to get back to him so much it hurt.

On the fifteenth night of being their captive, she was keeping count now, with the second week spilling over into a third, these insecurities and anxieties swirling in her mind yet again, she sat outside her tent, staring at the ground sullenly.

Zach was sat on a chair a few feet away, whittling something and smoking on a pipe. Peter was asleep a short distance to the right, snoring softly. A few men were talking around a fire some way off, but other than that it was quiet. That’s what surprised her most about the O’Driscoll camp; the quiet. She’d expected raucous laughter, copious drinking and shouting, insults flung this way and that but, no, the men spoke to who they wanted to talk to and got on with what they needed to. Part of her wondered if this was why Colm chose these men to be around him, for the quiet. Maybe they were just the best listeners, the ones least likely to disagree.

Her thoughts lingered on her uncle. He’d barely spoken to her since she’d recovered, only grinning when he caught her eye or bidding her a cheerful good morning or evening when he passed. Other than that, she didn’t see much of him and she liked that just fine. She was... apprehensive of his company now, knowing he wasn’t beyond physically hurting her if she disobeyed him. It made her all the more anxious for whenever there would be this regrouping; who better to make an example of than his own niece?

She couldn’t even think about it, the prospect of being around more O’Driscolls, ones she knew for certain would be rowdier than this group... and also finally knowing Thomas’s fate.

She knew it already, though; he was dead.

Once it was confirmed she was going to leave by any means necessary, but not before—

“Hey, darlin’.”

She caught herself before she flinched. Lifting her eyes, she found Colm sauntering closer, smoking. The apprehension grew; she’d learned that any conversation with him didn’t turn out well.

He coughed and then took a drag, blowing out a thin stream of smoke. “You better get some sleep, we’re all meetin’ up tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. Part of her believed he was actually telling the truth this time.

Her eyes followed him as he passed, smiling. “You’re gonna need all your energy for seein’ your brother.”

I hate you.

Her teeth were clenched so tightly. She didn’t believe it. It was a cruel trick he was playing. 

And she was going to kill him for it. 

—

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[pumpkiwi]

“ The Farmer’s Daughter “

       I remember it all too well. My feet moved swiftly through the cornfield, my vision slowly decaying, barely catching my breath. The cold winds caused my running even more pain, and the moonlight didn’t help me much. I didn’t know what I was running from, I didn’t bother turning my back. For if I did, I’d be done for. The only thing I could hear aside from the ringing in my ears, was a girl singing a lullaby of some sort. I couldn’t make out the words at all. However, the singing wouldn’t stop. Suddenly, my foot met with a treacherous stone, concealed within the shadows, as if it were waiting for me. My body slammed hard into the dirt surface below. Letting out a sob, I pushed myself on my feet and looked up to see what exactly was chasing me.

A car horn blasted through my ears. I sat away from the taxi window, awaking from a cold sweat. Didn’t take too long for me to realize that it was all just a nightmare. A surreal nightmare.

“Outta my way, ya rats!” The old taxi driver barked in front of him. . His voice sounded like he had smoked seven cigarettes each and every hour of his life. He noticed me and flashed a ugly grin.

“I see ya finally awoke, old sport!” He chirped with glee. “How’d ya sleep?”

“Fine.” I answered back, “How far are we from the farm?”

“Ooh, only a few miles away! Don’t ya get yer panties in a bunch!”

The farm in question belonged to my uncle, Joe Norton. A large yet sweet man, heart full of gold. His hair matched mine, a copper brown. That was one of the few things we had in common. Despite that, I truly cared for him. That’s why I had to pack my bags and get to his farm as quick as I could. You see, ever since my cousin, Abigail, went missing this summer, things haven’t been the best. Not only was the grief unbearable, Uncle Joe told me all about how his crops were dying, as well as his animals. He didn’t have enough hands to help out. Being promised payment and food, I agreed to come.

“Oi, here we are, old sport! Badger Hill Farm!” The driver announced.

I took one look out my window and saw it: my childhood in mere ruins. Perhaps, I shouldn’t be too surprised. Uncle Joe was an old, divorced man with nothing but the pain and sorrow of his daughter’s disappearance. Strangely, he didn’t seem as worried as a parent should be. Maybe, he’s just keeping himself calm, as if it hasn’t been months. Poor bastard. Regardless, the farm gave me unnerving vibes. Maybe, it was just my anxiety kicking in again.

I escaped the taxi, waving the taxi man goodbye. There, on the ever so creaky porch, was Uncle Joe. His droopy eyes stared at his only company at this time. He then smiled.

“Good to see you again, my dear niece!”

I only huffed at his greeting.

“Nephew, Uncle Joe. I’m your nephew.”

“Right .. right. My apologies. How was the trip?”

“Fine.” I replied, “You doing okay yourself?”

The two of us went on a long conversation of each other’s lives, even though we already were pretty updated from our last call. As we talked, he took me around the maze of Badger Hills Farm. I knew it was going to be hard, from all the chores and tasks we had to complete. But, you would be surprised by my experience with farm life, even before my transition. So, it shouldn’t be too bad … right?

After a few exhausting days of cleaning, feeding and other various tasks, we celebrated with a small night of board games and chips. We played an old version of monopoly, as well as watched some TV for the first time in forever. His favorite show was this old black and white show that reran on some channel I’ve never heard of. It was about a vampire being neighbors with a werewolf, one of the episodes was about the human protagonist witnessing a murder being commited by one of the two. I liked it too. So, on that stormy night, we binge watched the hell out of it. Before one of the episodes could properly end, however, the lights shut off. As expected, it scared the devil out of me. But, Uncle Joe was happy to comfort me.

“Don’t ya worry yer butt off, Gabe.” He told me, rising up from his worn out chair. “I’ll go and take care of that.”

Uncle Joe grabbed the flashlight from the nearby counter and soon enough, left the front door, closing it behind him. There, I sat in the dark, alone. Funny enough, I used to be afraid of the dark, mainly of what could be in it. I’d always have my nightlight on, as if it would wear away any creatures or ghouls. Now that I was older, I knew better.

A shuffle of movement swimmed beside me. I jumped from my seat, glancing the direction it came from. Couldn’t have been a mouse, maybe a cat? Uncle Joe didn’t own a cat. Then, I heard it. That same singing from my dream. However, this time, I could understand the lyrics…

“ Wolves asleep amidst the trees

Bats all are swaying in the breeze

But one soul lies anxious wide awake

Fearing all manner of ghouls, hags and wraiths

For your dolly Polly sleep has flown. “

The singing alerted me greatly. I didn’t stay for the song to finish. So much so, I dropped everything and bursted through the front door. Someone was in that house, I thought. I need to warn Uncle Joe. However, I couldn’t find him or the shed he must have been at.  What came next was similar to my dream. Running through the endless field in fear, unsure of who was coming after me, the endless singing of a song I had never heard of before. The rain had already taken a toll to my clothes, weighing me down as I ran. That unfaithful stone took out my ankle once more. I finally had a look at who I was chased back.

No… it couldn’t be…

There, floating up above me was my dearest cousin. Execpct, she didn’t look like herself. Her eyes were blank like a Tv screen, with a bloody rose covering her left eye, as well as an area around her chest. Her brown, long hair was as dirty as the ground below me and her outfit torn. I sat there, frozen in place, wondering if this was some sort of sick joke.

“ Abby..?” My eyes filled with tears, shaking at the cold, hard rain.

“What… W-hat happened to you? Why… what?”

Her gloved hands held out to me, as if reaching out to help me up. To my surprise, I could hold her hand. I rose up from the ground, still taking in what I was seeing. She released her grip and  stared down my soul before her haunting voice spoke:

“Follow me.”

Her body wasped through the air gently, making sure I was with her. There was no way in hell I would run off. But, despite that, I wanted to know why or what. What happened to her? Eventually, she led me to a now ruined garden. It had been blocked off from the farm itself, most likely due to the respect of Uncle’s daughter. All the flowers were deader than whatever she has been corrupted into. My nose cringed at a rotting and nasty smell.

“This is where he killed me.” She suddenly croaked, no emotions whatsoever.  

“Who..?” I nervously asked her.

“...Father.”

My heart stopped at her words.

“Uncle.. Joe? But … he’s old. And, he’s so sweet…”

“No.” A growl erupted from her. “He isn’t. He’s a murderer. He’ll kill you too if he finds out you know.”

I had to process this. All the things I had ever thought… is that why Uncle Joe was so calm about her becoming missing? I wanted to puke at the mere thought of it. A father killing his own daughter? Why? What was the motive?

“Why.. did he kill you?”

An index finger shot at the nearby flower beds. My gut twisted at what I even thought.

“You .. weren’t the only one..?”

She nodded firmly. I lifted the empty flower bed to reveal one of the almost decayed out corpses. The sight caused me to instantly drop the flower bed. I covered my mouth and nose to prevent myself from throwing up. This can’t be real. It can’t be. It has to be a dream.

Soon, bad news rolled in. The wet steps of mud trailed behind me. Uncle Joe stood there in the rain, holding a crowbar of somesorts. His happy smile that I always saw was twisted into a deep, dark frown.

“So… you found out, huh?” He questioned me. “You found her garden.”

It didn’t take long for me to realize what was going to happen if I stayed put. I was going to end up like Abigail. I raced over the fence and hopped over that bitch. He had thrown the crowbar at the fence, barely missing my back. Uncle Joe followed in pursuit, in a different route. I felt like I was in a horror movie, my heart pounding against my chest and running as quick as I could. I didn’t know where, but somewhere away from here.

“GET BACK HERE!” HIs voice boomed from behind me. “I AIN’T GONNA HURT YA! PLEASE, GABBY!”

I made it to that same dirt road I  entered from. A red pick-up truck happened to be driving on that said road. Taking my chances, I got in front of it, waving my arms fractionally at the driver. Luckily for me, he stopped inches away from me. Checking back on where Uncle Joe was, he near damned was right there. The driver must have seen him, waving me to get in.

In a panic, I hopped on the back of the truck, holding on the edge for dear life. The truck began to drive away as quickly as he humanly could.

I still remember seeing Uncle Joe standing in the middle of that road, watching me with cold, evil eyes. That day, I found out the truth about him and Badger Hill Farms. A death trap it was. He was planning on killing me off that night, and I know.

I have to report him to the authorities, about the missing cases and everything. But, that was going to be my next step. For right now, I took in my freedom with a sigh and laid back on that truck.

I was alive.

[stardew-imagines-me]

Tumblr didn't want me to send question on computer, so this is a test. How, and for what, the bachelors would curse?

Message received! Test status . . . Positive!

Elliot

• Elliot doesn’t like cursing, he thinks it’s improper and unsophisticated - not to mention very rude

- BUT, there are some times it just seems to slip out and he slaps himself on the wrist each time bad words full into his speech patterns

• Elliot will be filling his ink pot when his hand twitches and the ink spills everywhere except his empty ink pot

- he doesn’t break, he stays calm and slowly cleans up the sickly sweet smell of ink as he regrets all existence ever

• it’s only then he realizes the ink has soaked into his notebook, blacking out all his pencil scratchings into nothingness

- he still remains level headed, stopping to breath in a heavy sigh from his nose and takes a steady hand over his book. Taking it to hang up somewhere else in his cabin

• He collapses back into his chair, sighing in slight frustration and brings his right hand to rest again his face

- and that’s when he feels it. The stickiness of his hand against his face. Quickly, he pulls back to find his hand covered in ink as well, pooling down his wrist and seeping into his sleeve

• He clenches his jaw, flexing his hand and feeling the anger bubble in his stomach. He’s never been so upset in his life

- carefully, he lets out the smallest, “fuck,” and proceeds to clean his whole cabin instead of writing

Sebastian

• Sebastian doesn’t care much for cursing, never saw it as a big deal unlike his parents or friends, so saying curses isn’t that much of an issue for him

- though out of respect for the people around him, he tends not to use them so publicly in case anyone would be uncomfortable by it

• Sebastian’s go to curse though is, “shit stick”

- This is usually directed towards Abigail or Sam when they try and prank him or are being overly annoying on purpose

Shane

• Shane curses, that’s no surprise, but around children, he’s never said a bad word in his life. He doesn’t like cursing in front of Jas

- and if he did, Marnie would skin him alive. So cursing wasn’t really an option either way

• The ONE time he’s ever cursed in front of Jas was when she had fallen off the swing at the playground while he was dozing off

- The thump is what awoke Shane from his trance, shocking him slightly as he peered over to the lump on the bark

- Jas stayed limp and that’s when it clicked in Shane’s brain, and he bolted up quickly, faster than he’s ever moved in his life to get to her

• “Shit! Sweetie, are you okay?” Shane asked panickedly, kneeling next to her and lifting her up

• Although Jas has tears in her eyes, she was smiling brightly, giggling behind her sore hand. Shane raised an eyebrow, still very worried

- “You said a curse,”

Harvey

• Harvey has cursed probably twice ever in his life, not feeling very comfortable with such negative words for he is but a soft man

- it’s only when a bad day gets worse does he feel every bitter atom in his body get ready to shout any and all profanities possible

• That morning, his coffee maker had broken, and it already cost so much money and time to ship one to Pelican town so he just begrudgingly let the coffee slid for that morning

- and then he had back to back checkups with a sick, vomiting Vincent and an angry sore George

• Cleaning up vomit in 5 minutes is nearly impossible, never mind the smell it leaves

- And George wasn’t very nice about any of it, much to Harvey’s dismay

• Then when those were finished, he had TONS of paperwork to fill out which only resulted in most of it being faulty misprints

- goodbye 5 hours of his life

• Harvey was at his wits end, glasses on the ground and face slammed against the desk in surrenderance

- and that’s when it hit him. His coffee maker wasn’t plugged in that morning.

• “Goddammit,” he groaned against a pile of blank paperwork, regretting ever choosing medicine as his career for a split second

Sam

• Sam sees himself as a good boy, as best boy, and he likes to keep that image for himself. That mean he isn’t too fond of the curse words Sebastian used in ever sentence but he isn’t put off by them

• The few times he’s cursed was with Abigail and Sebastian when he fell into the ocean, watching as the skateboard he was riding just moments ago sank into the depths of the blue

• “No! My board!” Sam screeched in agony, visibly deflating as his soaked frame slouched on the dock

- “ohh, tough luck,” Sebastian commented from his side, lighting a cigarette. “Sorry buddy,” Abigail whistled, slapping a hand against his soggy back

• “that took a long ass time and a lot of fucking money to work for,” Sam mused, whining as if it was the end of the world for him

Alex

• Alex curses every once in awhile, when it fits a conversation or if he’s angry - which he isn’t most of the time

• The only other time he’s really cursed publicly was when he was playing catch with Sam and threw a ball straight into the farmers face

- “Oh shit!” Alex barked and dashed over to the farmers side, gasping horrified as the farmer opened their eye and looked at them with a bloody eye

• Well, Alex had bursted a blood vessel in your eye from the impact of the ball, but it was all fine, at least he didn’t blind you

- Harvey fixed you up good, making sure you didn’t have a concussion and you just waved off Alex’s constant apologies