#and immediately went back to tighten it up and make it worse. y'all are going to love it. i hope | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solastia · 3 years ago

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Say You Won’t Let Go | 5

Pairing: Namjoon x Jimin x Seokjin

Word Count: 6,721

Warnings: Violence, referenced omega abuse, minor character death

Author Note: My lack of battle knowledge shows, I'm afraid. I kinda rushed through it because I couldn't figure out how to make it sound interesting lmao. Anyway, please enjoy this chapter of a story that is taking way too long to write! I'll try to get the next one out faster, especially since I know y'all just want to see what goes down during Jimin's heat.

PLEASE don't fill up my comments with nothing but, "OH MY GOD YOU UPDATED!" Y'all guilt trip me worse than my mama

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

A light mist showered over the training grounds, making the ground beneath them soggy. He knew if anyone would slip in the mud it would be him, so he watched the ground with careful eyes as he walked around assessing his troop’s progress.

Namjoon cracked his neck as he silently watched his villagers learning to defend themselves. He knew that if this really turned into a war they would be at a disadvantage, as they’d admittedly gone a bit soft. It had been nearly a hundred years since the last big tribe war, and they’d focused on advancing their village rather than fighting for more land.

He turned towards the direction that would take him home, sniffing in vain for some hint of his mate. He knew he wouldn’t be able to smell him this far away, but it didn’t stop him from wishing.

When his thoughts weren’t taken over by worries, they were occupied by thoughts of his sweet little mate. His Jimin, who was no doubt at home going crazy with worry and stress. He had no doubt that Jimin would do his best to protect their people, he just hoped someone was looking out for him. He’d try to do everything himself if someone didn’t force him to delegate.

He probably should have made some sort of arrangements for Seokjin as well, he thought sheepishly. He hoped the man would be doing alright in a village where he knew literally no one. He was also relieved when he realized his thoughts of the man no longer felt influenced by alpha instincts or needs of any kind. His claim was settled and he was free to consider the man with a rational frame of mind.

Truthfully, there was nothing much for him to consider. The omega seemed nice enough, and sure he was attractive, but Namjoon felt nothing when he tried to picture the man naked to assess his reaction. Well, nothing beyond the guilt that he felt knowing what another omega looked like underneath him. He’d always been a one-person man and it just wasn’t in him to consider even trying to force himself to think of Seokjin romantically. Friends, maybe. Sure.

Besides, his Jiminie was a needy little thing and wrung every drop of affection that was in Namjoon to give.

He smiled again, his thoughts once more on his mate. How he adored the man. He had been perfectly content to live out his days without pups and pass on his title to one of his nephews. Sadly, it appeared as though his mate had been correct in thinking that their childless state posed a challenge that others couldn’t pass up.

Theirs was a fertile land that they’d been cultivating for several generations now. It was almost unheard of for packs to truly settle in one spot, but they had been lucky enough to find such a lush land to call their own. Good soil, healthy and plentiful game, clean rivers and lakes - even their huge mountain was worthy of envy, as it provided so much protection and resources. The friendly human village that was always happy to trade with them was something to go to war for all by itself.

He sighed and turned his attention back to his men, observing their progress. Yoongi was a brutal trainer - merciless and always seeking perfection. Normally, he wouldn’t have given him such free reign but he’d decided that his right hand’s brand of tough love was what they needed the most at the moment. They didn’t have the luxury of time.

He’d sent a messenger to the Kim’s tribe, figuring him marrying into them should provide reason enough for them to send him more warriors. He had no faith that a message to get there and forces sent in enough time to help them with a battle if it came to that - it was rather a backup plan. In case they should fall, perhaps the sent warriors could at the very least save the pack they’d left behind.

The sound of feet running through puddles reached his ear and he swirled around to catch one of his scouts rushing towards him. The man was running so fast he couldn’t stop in time to prevent him from slipping into the damp ground. Namjoon reached out a hand and hauled the man up, narrowing his eyes as they met the frantic ones of his best scout.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“They’re here!” The man panted. “They didn’t go through the western forest as we thought. We suspect they went downriver instead. They’re already here, Alpha.”

Namjoons’ heart dropped right to his stomach. They weren’t ready. They weren’t…

Gentle hands pried his fingers from his hair and Yoongi’s sharp eyes bored into him. “Joon?”

“They’re already here. They’re…” He turned to his scout. “Where exactly are they, Yuen?”

“I spotted them setting up camp next to the cliffs.”

“Shit,” Yoongi hissed. “That’s only a twenty-minute walk from here.”

Namjoon hung his head, reaching up to rub his suddenly aching eyes.

“We have no choice but to be ready. Yoongi, Round up the men. Collect three of your best to be added to our personal party. We move out the moment you’re ready.”

Yoongi nods briskly and turns to roar orders. Namjoon spots Jungkook and waves him over. The younger alpha jogs to him and Namjoon grabs his shoulders.

“You are not going to like this, but…”

Jungkook interrupts him, “I’m not staying behind.”

“You are ,” he nods firmly, Jungkook’s mouth opening again to argue. He shakes his head, effectively shutting him up.

“I’m not going to make you stay right here, just in the back of the men. If things go south, I need you to be ready to run back to the village immediately. I’m not saying this because you’re weak - in fact, if I could I would have you up there with me and Yoongi because you’re better than both of us. It’s because I trust that you would be able to reach the village before any of our enemies could get there and save our people. Save our mates.”

Jungkook bows his head and softly asks, “You really think it’s going to go that way?”

Namjoon shrugs. “Dunno, Gukkie. I’ve certainly never dealt with this any more than the rest of us have. I just figured our best chance of survival is to expect the worst and hope for the best.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? You’ll stay back there?”

Jungkook nods then shakes his overly long hair with a grin. “Besides, your other option is probably Yoongi and it would take him two years to power walk back to the village.”

“Brat,” Namjoon chuckles fondly, pushing the man away from him. “Help him get everyone going.”

Jungkook nods and runs off, plowing into Yoongi’s back instead of stopping properly. Namjoon shakes his head and turns to sniff the air again in vain. He missed Jimin fiercely.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Once assembled, their party made good time reaching the cliffs. Namjoon decided their best course of action was to simply walk up to the outsider’s camp and demand answers. In fact, their leader most likely expected that since Namjoon would be well within his rights to do so. They were “visitors” on his land, after all.

Once their camp came into view, Namjoon paled, momentarily stunned. They had brought so many warriors, all of them painted and well-armed. This was definitely no negotiation party.

He forced himself to calm and pulled his shoulders back, bringing himself to full height and allowing his scent to permeate the air around him until even his own men were gritting their teeth against the blatant demand for submission. He gathered Yoongi and several of the warriors that he’d picked to surround him and strode forward.

He noticed several scouts and lookouts stand to attention but they made no move to stop him, nor to run back to their camp to inform their leader. Either they were in too much shock or…

“Ah, there you are, pup.”

A man stood in the center of their camp surrounded by several burly warriors with axes strapped to their backs. The man himself was armed with a massive club strapped to his hip and a bow on his back. He was stocky, not in very good shape, and was probably around the same age as his father. His scent indicated he was Pack Alpha, but it was sour, tinged with age and some sickness underneath.

“You are the Yang Alpha, I presume,” he inquired with as much politeness as he could manage.

“Indeed, my boy. Come join me by the fire. I’ve come for a little…chat.”

“You will speak to him with respect,” Yoongi growled, his hand tightening on a dagger strapped to his thigh.

The Yang Alpha chuckled, waving them forward. “What a loyal little beta you have there.”

Namjoon simply nodded and waved Yoongi down. He could tell what sort of man this was already. Nothing he said was going to have much of a difference. He already thought he was superior to them simply because of his age - and perhaps his warriors who have no doubt seen many battles.

He followed behind the Yang guards as they led them to their central fire and sat on the offered log. Yoongi stayed standing at his right and his other guards gathered behind him.

The Alpha proceeds to act like they weren’t even there, picking up his meal that he must have set aside earlier and tearing into a chicken leg. Namjoon startles at that for a moment, trying not to let his worry show. Unless this man’s war party traveled with a bunch of chickens, they had been in Namjoon’s village. Someone had snuck in and spied on them, and now he was eating the stolen chicken right in front of him like a taunt.

Namjoon clears his throat, willing his body to appear unbothered.

“I’m sure you are aware of why I’m here. State your business on my lands.”

The Alpha belches and licks his fingers clean, smacking his lips with satisfaction. He tosses the bone into the fire and only then does he see fit to look at Namjoon in the eyes.

He raises an eyebrow, his lips curling in a mocking smile.

“Ah, pup. No need for aggression. I’m simply here to look out for my neighbors,” the man shrugs nonchalantly. “I’d heard of your… troubles even across in my land so I thought I should come and lend a hand.”

“And what kind of hand do you think we need?” Namjoon asked, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his tone.

“Ah, well. At first, I thought I’d give you one of my daughters. I have far too many of them anyway and their mothers were all certainly fertile as rabbits,” he smacks his tongue against his teeth and sighs. “Then I got a real good look at this land. Fertile soil, steady water supply, a village full of hard little workers.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenches as he waits for the inevitable. “Uh-huh…”

The alpha shrugs again and drawls, “And then I thought the best hand I could lend is my own. You’re a young pup and I’m sure you’re trying your best, but with a land like this to protect and your line unsecured, well…” he waves around. “Half of these warriors are my own sons. My line will be secure for hundreds of years. Figured I’d do your people a favor.”

Namjoon grits his teeth, wiling his alpha down. He desperately wanted to just lunge and tear the man’s throat out, but he knew he needed to be smarter than that.

The other Alpha snaps his fingers and bellows for wine. A moment later the scent of omega hit Namjoon’s unsuspecting nose. Why would the man have omegas in his war party?

The omega was male and jogged towards the Alpha with a full cup of sour-scented wine, and somehow doesn’t trip despite his eyes never leaving the ground beneath him. Namjoon felt his anger somehow grow further when he took in the state of the omega - the way his ribs poked out as though it had been far too long since he’d seen a good meal, the bruises that mottled his skin from head to toe, the state of his wrapping that barely covered him and was hardly in good enough shape to be considered a cleaning rag. The omegas scent was muted, as though the body was trying its best to protect itself. However, it was still enough for Namjoon to catch the hint of bright citrus hiding behind the muted emotions. He’s never seen an omega treated in such a way. They were to be protected and cherished, not treated as though they were even lower than the chubby dogs sitting on either side of the Alpha leader.

Suddenly, he noticed that Yoongi had gone deathly still at his side and he glanced up, noting the stricken expression on his second’s face. He knew full well that Yoongi hid a bleeding heart underneath all his gruffness, but he didn’t think this was what that was. Yoongi began to growl and he watched in disbelief as the omega’s nose twitched and he slowly glanced up to stare at Yoongi in wonder.

“I see your beta has his eye on my bitch. Reaching a bit far there, eh? Even a male omega is too high above a beta ,” he laughed cruelly, spitting out the designation like a slur.

Namjoon observed the pair curiously then turned back to the alpha. He figured his best bet for getting out of here safely was to distract the man from what he thought was happening.

“What are your terms for leaving without a fight?”

The man guffawed, a bit of spittle flying in the air. “No fight? Impossible, my boy. Unless you were willing to sit there and let me end you here and now, of course.”

Yoongi managed to tear his gaze from the omega long enough to growl at the man. The alpha simply sneers and grabs the omega by his hair and tugs him down to his knees in front of him. He runs his hands through the tangled auburn locks, silently mocking Yoongi.

“What, have you imprinted on him? Is he your precious little mate? Too bad. He’s mine. In fact, I’ve been thinking about breeding him since my last bitch is about to burst. Gotta give the new pup a friend, eh?”

Yoongi’s hand tightened around his dagger and pulled it halfway out of its sheath before Namjoon was able to place a restraining hand on his arm. He shakes his head and Yoongi lowers his hand, near-silent growls vibrating his whole body.

“I can see that there is no peaceful solution to be had with you, therefore I’m issuing you an official challenge. I will give you this evening to pack up and leave. If not, we will meet you at dawn and it will be a fight.”

Namjoon stood and placed a comforting hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, squeezing gently to urge him to fight his instincts. The man may have been a beta, but he was more alpha than many born to it.

He observed helplessly as the omega watched them leave, first soft whimpers then omega keening the further they got. The sound broke even his heart - he could only imagine how Yoongi felt.

They left the camp with Yoongi ahead of him and guards surrounding them both. He stared at his best friends overly straight back as he marched forward - no sign of the normal casual slouch that he was practically known for.

“Hyung, I doubt they are going to leave. There’s going to be a battle and I promise you that we’ll get him out. Do you trust me?”

Yoongi’s shoulders release the tiniest bit of tension, though not enough. “I hear you, Joon. I just…I can’t believe I finally found them. I found my mate and they…Joon. Did you fucking see him? He’s so beautiful but they…they hurt him. And he’s so scared. I’m a fucking beta and I could smell how terrified he was, that’s how bad it was. Who does that to an omega? A fucking monster, that’s who. You shoulda let me gut him, Joon. I coulda fixed it all right there.”

“And then his entire war party would have descended on us immediately and we would have been wiped out.”

Yoongi grunts and hangs his head.

“Hey, Joon?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you scent him?”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, it was a bit muted cuz he’s been traumatized I think. Can happen when a body is trying to protect it…but underneath it all, he kinda smelled like those oranges you always carry in your pockets.”

Yoongi snapped his head up to stare at him in wonder. “Really?”

“Yeah. If I can smell it that well even though his body is trying to mute it, it’s probably going to be strong enough for even you to scent when we get him well again.”

“Yeah?” Yoongi was smiling like a dope, and Namjoon chuckled silently. It was a new look for his friend but it suited him. Yoongi finally finding his mate was at least one good thing to come out of all this madness. The man had long ago resigned himself to living without one despite everyone assuring him that it would happen eventually.

Namjoon sighed and watched the sun lower itself on the horizon. The symphony of oranges, reds and blues usually brought a smile to his lips, but this night it merely made him anxious.

“Yoongi, make sure every man we have is alert tonight. Lookouts especially, but I don’t think anyone should sleep tonight.”

“You think they are bastards enough to attack in the middle of the night…” he pauses and curses, answering his own question. “Of course they are. I’ll let everyone know.”

Namjoon nods and faces the horizon again.

They’d make it through this - they had to.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

They’d put out the fires hours ago and simply waited. Many of the men that weren’t as proficient with weapons had shifted already, preferring to rely on their wolves in battle instead. Namjoon had chosen not to. He wanted to be standing tall and meet the old bastard face to face when he cut him down for threatening his people and upsetting his mate. Because of pathetic Alphas like this one, his mate had felt worthless enough to demand they add another to their home - to his bed - just to protect their village. He was furious that Jimin had been proven right.

Yoongi silently stalked towards the large rock that Namjoon perched on, his black form blending into the dark of the night perfectly. He jumped up and settled next to him, his ears standing tall and following every sound. He slightly bumped against Namjoon, a familiar motion that made him sigh.

“I’m good, just...angry. We haven’t bothered anyone in at least a hundred years. We have no desire to go around stealing land and killing people. Yet, just because we haven’t been able to have a pup we are suddenly deemed weak and unworthy? It’s so old-fashioned and just...barbaric. Because of this way of thinking I had to hurt three people - myself fucking included - by adding another person to my marriage just for his potential ability to breed. What happens if he can’t have pups either? What the hell am I expected to do then?”

His breathing is growing more erratic the more upset he gets and he clenches his fists tightening, whispering all of his hurts into the night.

“I...Yoongi...this has been so hard for me too. I know that everyone feels bad for Jimin and like, he’s been trying to keep it together in front of me, but I’m hurting too. I’ve never wanted anyone besides him. I’ve known since I was a kid that he was the love of my life. And like, every time we got pregnant I was both elated and terrified because it hurt me to lose the pups....but I was always afraid of losing him more. It just got worse and worse every time he lost them. That last time when I got home...he was laying on the ground surrounded by blood...I thought that was it. And if he died, I would follow him, Yoongi. Pack or not.”

The beta whines quietly and rubs his nose against Namjoon’s shoulder.

“Having Seokjin around is hard now, too. I’d forgotten about how strong the alpha instinct is to mark when you complete the ceremony. I had this idea that I’d...I don’t know. Hand him a cup full of jizz or something and let him take it from there,” he laughs self-deprecatingly. “I don’t feel anything for him besides curiosity and I hope that we’ll be able to be friends at least. I just...I feel so bad and guilty. And I just…” Namjoon sniffled and wiped at his dampening eyes. “I don’t even know if I’m making sense right now, hyung. Everything is so scrambled up there and now I have this...fucking war shit. I’m tired and I just want to go home and nest with Jimin.”

A tiny lick on Namjoon’s cheek was his only answer, but it was enough for now. He laughs softly, wiping another stray tear.

“Thanks, Yoon. Love you too.”

He sighs and leans back, staring up at the stars above him. He really was emotionally exhausted. When all of this was over - if he even survived it - he was making his father take over for a while while he took a nice vacation. He decided the least his village could do for him after everything he’d sacrificed recently was not bother him while he got his life with his mate back on track.

Yoongi suddenly stiffened next to him, bringing him to attention. He heard it next - a rustle of leaves and the occasional crunch of someone stepping on an acorn or some other debris.

They were here.

He could see them now, the red and gold eyes of the shifted warriors stalking through the trees. He sniffed the air, waiting for the leader to make himself known. Even as his own men threw themselves in front of him, effectively blocking any foolish enough to attack him directly, he waited…and waited.

He wasn’t showing up.

Namjoon lowly growled at the cowardice of the man. He was brave enough to trek across the land and try to steal from his pack, but fighting his own battles was asking far too much, apparently.

At his signal, his men leap forward and attacked the foreign warriors. There was no need for frills and banners - he simply wanted them gone. Yoongi was still sticking close to him, but his nose too was searching the air for the absent leader.

Namjoon bellowed his rage as he watched some of his people fall, the enemy ruthless with their kills. Hundreds of warriors fought in the makeshift battlefield, the ferocious growls and pained cries imprinting themselves into Namjoon’s nightmares for years to come. Jungkook was thankfully following instructions and staying as far from the front line as possible, but still managed to make a few kills. Trusting that the boy was safe for now, he throws himself further into the fray, his skills with a sword untried and rusty but enough to fight off shifted warriors for now.

Suddenly, Yoongi howls and leaps away from him, running forward at a speed that Namjoon didn’t even know he had in him. He cursed and shifted to follow behind, fearing that Yoongi had seen Jungkook in trouble or something equally horrifying. His confusion grew as Yoongi sailed right past the battlefield and kept going towards the enemy camp. He tried to bark orders to stop so he could get an explanation, but Yoongi either didn’t hear him or refused to obey because he only went impossibly faster, his sleeker form streaking through the trees and making it difficult for Namjoon’s wolf to keep up. While he was the biggest wolf the village had seen in years, he lacked any sort of agileness or grace. Usually, it wasn’t that much of a problem, but Yoongi charging into an enemy camp without backup would be.

When the cliffside camp finally came into view, Yoongi went charging past the guards and Namjoon was still a few leagues behind, having already tripped three times and leaving dirt and twigs clinging to his platinum-hued fur.

Nearly panting with effort, he too ignored the threats of the guards and trotted to where Yoongi stood growling at the Yang Alpha. The man had the omega they’d seen earlier held to the dirt-packed ground with a foot on his back, the rotting wrap that had been his only piece of clothing nowhere to be seen. There was a group of leering men standing around in a circle around the scene like it was simply entertainment. The rest of the pack continued with their duties all around the camp like this was a usual occurrence. Namjoon averted his eyes to give the omega some respect, keeping them glued to the offending alpha instead as he and Yoongi slowly shifted forms.

He unfurled and looked down his nose at the flabby alpha, towering over the now raging man. His fetid breath swirled in the air as he cursed Namjoon and Yoongi for their interruption.

Namjoon rumbled and stalked closer, uncaring of his nakedness as he postured. He had nothing to be ashamed of after all - especially next to this failure of a man. This man who bullied and abused omegas, who attacked peaceful packs unprovoked, who didn’t even have the balls to join the fight he had started.

“I was waiting for you, Yang. You were nowhere to be found. You aren’t backing out, are you?” Namjoon asked in a mocking tone, drawing the alpha’s attention to him and away from the beta who was now guarding the omega from view.

“Hardly,” the old man guffawed, vile spittle flying. “I thought instead it would be amusing to breed my bitch while his mate was being gutted. Poetic.”

Namjoon felt his growl rise to the surface like molten lava. “Instead, you are going to die.”

“Sorry, pup. Not this day.”

The old alpha waved at the group of warriors that had been standing around like spectators and they quickly shoved the man behind them and faced Namjoon.

There was nothing pretty about the way he fought his way through them. He simply forced his way through to the alpha with a brutal viciousness he didn’t even know he possessed. Two of the men were bashed together with so much force he was almost certain he broke them. Several others were shredded with half-extended claws and his canines. Before he knew it the ground around him was littered with bodies and only one remained between him and his prey.

“Please,” the man - no, he was practically a boy. No more than fifteen he thought. “He told me to watch. I didn’t want to. I didn’t even want to come here. He’s…”

“Shut up, you sniveling whelp,” the alpha grunted and shoved a dagger into the boy’s heart from behind.

Namjoon reached forward and caught the boy as he fell, staring into the bewildered eyes of the youth as he died in his arms. He lay him gently on the ground next to the other men and stared at the alpha with disgust.

“He was your own son , you monster!”

Namjoon’s eyes whirled to meet the hate-filled ones of the omega, who was now free of his bindings and glaring at the Yang alpha like he was a maggot he’d just found in his meal.

“He was weak,” the Yang alpha grunted derisively. “Was always telling me he didn’t want to fight or breed. Useless whelp wanted to be a healer like his bitch of a mother.”

The man seemed to suddenly realize he was out of shields when he peeked over at Namjoon then ran straight for the omega. Yoongi had begun to leap forward to block him, instead, the omega pushed him away and let the alpha grab him.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi’s voice was filled with hurt and confusion, and Namjoon didn’t blame him one bit. They were trying to save him - save everyone. Why would he let the crazed alpha have him?

“It’s alright. I belong to him. Don’t I, alpha?” the omega crooned, his voice like liquid honey.

“That’s right. You and everything we see are mine. It’s all mine,” the alpha nearly whispers as he pulls the omega’s back to his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist.

Namjoon could see it now. The madness lurking behind the alpha’s near-crazed frantic eyes. There was something wrong with the man, and he suddenly remembers the sour scent when he’d first met him.

The omega releases a loud purr and allows the alpha to bury his face into the crook of his neck, his scent suddenly pouring out as if he’d just popped off the cap. Namjoon observes with trepidation as the omega seems to be slowly making the Yang alpha walk backward, his eyes locked with Yoongi’s as he allows his scent to fill the air for the first time in what must have been years.

“Omega, what are you doing?” Yoongi asks pleadingly, his hands out towards the man even as tears begin to fall from his eyes. Namjoon knows his friend must be overwhelmed right now - he was just able to fully scent his mate for the first time, as well as any alpha or omega would have.

“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay,” he croons soothingly, petting the alpha still buried against his neck. “I’m going to make it all better.”

Namjoon has a horrible feeling in his gut as he finally notices how close they are getting to the edge of the cliff. There was nothing on the other side but a rocky ravine and if they should fall…

“Omega, come to me now,” he growled, trying to infuse as much alpha voice as he could into the command.

The man’s eyes glazed over slightly, but he squared his shoulders and shook his head. Namjoon was amazed at the man’s strength.

“I’m going to end this now.”

The omega suddenly turned in the alpha’s grip and placed both of his hands on the man’s chest.

“This is for my mother, for me, and for every other life you’ve terrorized.”

With a firm push, he sends the alpha tumbling off the cliff edge. The garbled yell as the scent-drunk man finally realizes what is happening to him reaches their ears, but neither Namjoon nor Yoongi go to watch the scene. Namjoon certainly didn’t want to have that image in his mind. The omega, however, stands there staring in silence, until a final thud signals the alpha’s fate.

He turns and faces the remaining members of the Yang pack as they all stare with expressions varying between horror and satisfaction.

“According to your own rules that state anyone who defeats pack alpha takes control, I am now leader of the pack. My first and only orders will be that anyone who wishes to leave the pack may do so now without fear of retribution. Everyone else will go back to the main village and stay there, never to come this way again. And finally, I am stepping down as leader immediately and leaving it to Kwon Jiyong.”

A quiet mild-smelling alpha that Namjoon had hardly noticed before glanced up sharply at the claim.

“Me?”

“Yes,” the omega nodded decisively. “You are one of the few that actually treats everyone well and has been strong against the corruption of this pack. You did what you could to help even when you were one man against hundreds. I don’t know how many times you’ve tended my wounds when alpha said to let them fester or snuck us food when we were being punished yet again. No one else here is more worthy of the title than you.”

“I…” the alpha gulped, staring nervously at all the gazes now on him. “I’ll do my best.”

The omega nodded and strode through the crowd with as much grace as a king of old, and seemingly uncaring of his nudeness or the battered state of his body. He walks right up to Yoongi and places his hands on his hips, cocking his head as he studies the beta.

“I’m Jung Hoseok,” he finally says with a tiny smile.

“I’m Min Yoongi,” he murmurs back, unable to tear his eyes from the omega.

The omega’s smile grows and his scent is once again swirling around them so strongly Namjoon is almost embarrassed. At least the man smelled good - mostly like the little oranges that Yoongi always ate, but with a few deeper notes that brought to mind a bright summer’s day. It was so strong that it was a good thing the man seemed to have a handle on muting it when he needed to, but he knew that it was a blessing for Yoongi. He could actually scent his mate - something he’d never believed he could do. He would be able to scent his mate’s emotions and health, bond properly...Namjoon nearly wanted to cry he was so happy for his friend.

Yoongi snaps his eyes away from the omega and suddenly starts to look around, frantically searching for something.

A tall beta quietly walks up to them and tears off his long crimson tunic, standing in nothing but worn leather wrappings. He offers it to the omega with a shy quirk of his lips.

“It’s clean and has no scent, so it should last you until you find something better.”

The omega seems to gladly accept it and throws it on immediately, the fabric nearly reaching his shins.

“Thank you, Seunghyun,” Hoseok grins and the beta slinks back away as quiet as before.

“He’s not one of the ones that hurt you?” Yoongi grunted.

“No,” Hoseok shakes his head, sighing. “He’s a craftsman - makes and repairs our weapons. Jiyong will probably make him his right-hand man.”

The three of them stand there awkwardly for a moment as the remaining members of the war party seem to ignore them for the most part and begin preparations to leave.

“So,” Namjoon clears his throat. “Are you coming with us or staying with them?”

“Oh,” the omega blushes, glancing at Yoongi. “I was waiting to see what he wanted. Do you...want me to come with you?”

“YES!” Yoongi blurted, then cleared his throat and jammed his hands into his pockets. “I mean, sure. If you want. Whatever.”

“Great! Let’s go!” Hoseok laced his arm with Yoongi’s and tugged him along, leaving Namjoon - their pack alpha, mind you - trailing behind. Namjoon snorts to himself, thinking that his friend was about to have his life turned around more than he’d ever thought possible.

“Wow, you smell so good,” Hoseok suddenly purred, making Namjoon wish he could be anywhere else.

“Uh, that’s nice of you to say, but I’m beta. I don’t…”

“I can smell you, and I’m pretty sure you’re aware we’re mates so it’s probably because of that,” Hoseok chuckles, leaning down to take an exaggerated sniff of Yoongi’s neck.

The beta glanced up at him warily. “Yeah? What does it smell like?”

“Mmm, like fall.”

“What?” Yoongi scrunched his nose and even Namjoon leaned closer curiously to hear the explanation. He’d certainly never been able to scent Yoongi, and he’d known him all his life.

“Yeah, like...cinnamon and pine and maybe a hint of something else. It’s nice. Comforting.”

Yoongi’s shoulders went rigid and he fell silent. Years of studying his best friend gave him that the knowledge that the man was trying not to cry. He wanted to stop and hug him, but he also really wanted to hurry back to their own camp and put on some clothes.

Jungkook came running through the trees to meet them, thankfully bearing a bag full of clothing they always kept around for after a shift.

“Hyungs! Someone from the Yang side came through and stopped all the fighting. Said their alpha was dead and pulled everyone out. What happened?”

“Jung Hoseok here saved us all,” Namjoon reached up and grasped the omega’s shoulder, squeezing gently. Hoseok dropped his head shyly and blushed at the claim.

“Really? How?”

“Pushed the fucker right off a cliff,” Yoongi grunted with amusement. Hoseok squawks in dismay.

“Shit, that’s so cool. Are you coming back with us? My mate is a badass omega too - he’ll love you.”

“Yes,” Namjoon answered for the pair as they remained silent. “Hoseok and Yoongi are true mates. We need to get them back to the camp before their instincts take over. I’d also like to have a nice big meal for the evening to celebrate our victory and get some meat on his bones. Have a few of the men head out to hunt, please Gukkie?”

“On it, alpha!” Without another word he ran back the way he’d come, leaving Yoongi and Namjoon to quickly dress and continue their trek at a slower pace.

After a few more minutes of walking, Namjoon glanced over at Hoseok, studying him curiously.

“You know,” he finally says after a while. “You seem to be taking everything pretty well right now…” Namjoon was genuinely amazed at how strong this omega seemed to be. He’d just killed someone, left who knows how many years of abuse behind, has to be starving and cold - and yet he’s just grinning as he walks with Yoongi, swinging their linked arms like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Oh, believe me,” Hoseok chuckles. “I will be having a panic attack later, I can promise you that. There will be tears and crying and I probably will keep myself behind doors for a while,” he shrugs and glances over at Yoong with a fond smile. “I think I’m mostly alright at the moment because my omega is thrilled our mate is here. Kinda running high on pheromones and hormones right now.”

“Gotcha,” Namjoon shakes his head. “We’ll plan on the two of you...bonding...tonight, but we’ll have to pack up and head home tomorrow. It’s going to take a lot of work to get the village running smoothly again.”

The moment the camp is in sight Namjoon breathes a sigh of relief. If he was being brutally honest, he hadn’t thought he’d see it again. Hadn’t thought he’d get to go home. But here he was and he was just so ready to get to his mate again.

“Alpha.”

“Ah, Jackson. Good to see you’re alright,” Namjoon smiled brightly at a favored member of his inner circle.

“Thank you, alpha. Good to see you lot make it out alright too. Just wanted to update you before you found your bed.”

“Great. You two go on ahead,” Namjoon gives Yoongi a friendly tap on the back. “Get your mate fed and seen to by our healers before you do anything.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi mumbles, his cheeks nearly scarlet. Still, he grabs the omega’s hand and tugs him towards the central fire where the men are already prepping food for the evening meal.

He turns back to Jackson. “Report.”

“We have twenty-three men wounded, ten were killed. Arrangements have already been made to send the bodies home and we are doing what we can with the wounded. Most of their injuries can wait to be dealt with until we can take them home to healer Lily. A warrior came from the enemy encampment and informed everyone that the Yang alpha was dead and called the men back before we lost too many of our own.”

Namjoon sighs and thanks whoever would listen. He nods, “Thank you, Jackson. Go find your own rest. We pack up and head home tomorrow.”

Jackson grins and spins around, running back towards his personal group of friends. Namjoon sighs wearily and makes his way towards the tantalizing scent of roasting meat. He’d barely sat on a log before someone is shoving a bowl of food into his hands and he begins to eat automatically, just wanting the chore to be done so he could go to sleep. He stares at his friend Yoongi talking softly with his new mate while they fed each other bits of food like the disgusting saps he’d always suspected his friend would be.

One more night and he could start the journey home.

I’m almost there, Jiminie. I’m actually coming home to you, love.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #abo #omegaverse #solastia #say you wont let go #bts abo #alpha namjoon #omega jimin #omega seokjin #polyamory au #poly!bts

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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

Text

Wake Me Up Inside(Chapter 2)

Summary: Hope is a flickering light, coming and going as it sees fit.

Author's note: Y'all like this? Color me surprised I thought everyone had cast Sujin aside based on tumblr post honestly, expected maybe 3 people to read this. I'm happy so many are enjoying, thanks for coming along for the ride. If any talented individuals want to make me a header that would be great, anyway enjoy the teen angst. More awful parenting, beware. it hurts me to write this but random immediate romance doesn’t make sense to me so here we goooo.

The world seems larger, everyone towers over her as they squeeze by jostling her tiny body, she twists and turns desperately searching for a familiar face and faltering when there is none. Just blurred faces with stretched out smiles that are horrifying grotesque, almost as if they were painted on by a deranged circus clown. She begins to run frantically racing away from the figures, who are now reaching out for her grabbing her arm and tugging at her pigtails. She opens her mouth but nothing comes out, bringing a trembling hand to her lips she finds them sewn shut, silencing her petrified screams.

Then a hand clutches at her elbow and she's spun around, suddenly staring into the face of evil.

"Where have you been you brat? Everyone was waiting for you."

She tries to tug free of his punishing grip but his fingers tighten on her tender flesh, marking the delicate skin. Ignoring her evident trepidation he forcefully pushes her towards a table, with a large looming birthday cake.

"Hurry up and blow out these candles, you're almost old enough to be useful to me."

Screaming no in her mind, she breaks free of his hold running as fast as her compact legs will take her but she miscalculates and trips over a stray toy, tumbling over the edge of a pool she hadn't noticed there earlier. The cold splash of the chlorine scented water on her skin shocks her in a panicked daze and when she pries her eyes open the menacing face of her father greets her looking nonplussed by her hectic drowning.

"Good riddance." He smirks sipping from his cup as he stalks away, no longer bothered with her.

Water constructs her airway and she continues to sink to the bottom. Forgotten and discarded.

With a flash she bursts from her nightmare silent scream on her tongue, it's his presence that silences her cry. Wide feline eyes regard her from his crouched position, it takes a moment to realize that the rapid puffs of air filling the room are coming from her lips. She grips at the mattress beneath her, hopelessly pleading with her heart and lungs as her body quivers from the intensity of her dream.

"Are you okay? You looked like you were having a bad dream, I called your name a few times."

She's decidedly not any semblance of okay and has no concept of what that would entail for her but she finds herself nodding, lying as easily as she always does.

"I'm fine." Clipped and brisk despite the cold sweat on her skin, she's probably soaked through his shirt the collar almost plastered to red collar bones.

He doesn't reply further than pursing his lips and walking over to a dresser she'd hadn't noticed earlier.

"That lie would probably be more believable if you didn't look as if you were going to pass out at any second." She can hear his eyes rolling at her and it raises her heckles, she doesn't need anyone looking after her, she is fine on her own.

"I should go." She says curtly, forcing herself out of the dangerously warm bed to walk across the room and test her previously soaked pajamas. Damp, but they'll do.

"I thought you had nowhere to go." He challenges finally standing to his full height, subconsciously she flinches at the sudden movement and immediately he takes a step back pressing himself almost flush with the wall. Lowering his head until they are almost eye level. Shame washes over her do strongly she has to turn away, so pathetic.

Speaking to his bedpost she answers, "That was last night. I can go home now."

Her father will be at work until late into the evening, she just needs to lock herself in her room and she should be safe until school tomorrow.

He hums at her sounding closer than he did earlier, "You don't have to go. I'll find an excuse to give my mom, you can stay here."

No she can't. She knows what's going through his mind, probably the same thing that went through Suho's when he saw the blood on her lip for the first time, you poor little thing. Pity was always the first reaction but it never lasted, eventually pity shifted to annoyance nobody wanted to be friends with someone getting beaten. It was depressing, and uncomfortable to discuss and there was nothing anyone could do to help her. It was her penance for being born a girl and not being the best at least to make up for that disappointment.

"I'm not a stray puppy, you can't just pick me up off the street and expect me to stay. I told you, I'm fine." This time she says it harder, sharper with a bite that screams don't push me.

Unsurprisingly enough Han Seojun doesn't seem intimidated by her.

This time she gets to witness the eye roll as he approaches her but still keeps his head lowered as if deferring to her. "I already told you that I don't pity you, you need help stop pretending you don't."

But she's not pretending, that would imply that she wants others to help secretly. That just isn't accurate, she wants nothing- expects nothing. Her father pound any inkling of hope she had out a long time ago.

Stepping into his space, her eyes narrow as she bites out, "I don't need anything certainly not help from you. You're not a nice person, what am I your one good deed? Just mind your business."

She pointedly glances away at the flash of hurt that scatters across his expressive face.

She expects him to lash out, stretch to his full form and berate her, reprimand her ungrateful behavior and an even darker side of her almost expects him to slap her. I see why your father does that, you deserve it.

"Suit yourself."

That's all he says solemnly with a shrug before tossing more dry clothes at the bed and silently exiting the room.

She feels worse than she did before. Guilt gnawing at her, she ignores the offered clothes she doesn't deserve his hospitality or warmth. She disrobes and puts back on the damp chilled pajamas, that matches her better.

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That's what he gets for trying to help someone, his act of kindness thrown back in his face. Angrily he pours the boiling water into the waiting cup, starting his mother's mandatory morning tea. He's so lost in the routine that he doesn't notice her presence until she clears her throat. His pride stops him from turning around, her words were as painful as a dagger.

"Your clothes are on the bed. I called a cab."

He nods without looking back, "Get home saf--" He cuts himself off, maybe he's overstepping again. So he just hums and stirs the now perfect cup of tea with a splash of milk. His sister's will get three sugars, she has such a sweet tooth.

The soft snap of the front door closing is loud in the silence of the morning, the sun has barely risen. His mother will be out in an hour, he was worried for nothing. Nobody will even know she was here. He can pretend this was all a fever dream and listen to her advice, he's never minded anyone else's business why did he decide to start now?

Lesson learned.

He spends the remainder of his weekend not thinking about the bruises on her face and instead plays video games, bullying Suho into playing Call of Duty with him online until the stupid genius starts to win too often and it's no longer stress reducing.

"Sore loser." He scoffs at the staticky insult through his headphones, draining the can of soda he took from the fridge. He should start dinner soon, his mom and sister will be back from shopping any minute.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did." He can't help but roll his eyes at the lame response but he pushes on ignoring his brain shouting at him that this is the opposite of minding his business. He hardly listens to his brain, his gut is much stronger.

"Does Sujin have any siblings? Or does she like to box or anything like that? " He tries to make sense of the night, maybe it wasn't what he thought initially. From his memory Sujin comes from a very affluent respectable family, there's no way right?

"What? What kind of question is that?"

"Just answer me." He quips impatiently, ready to let go of this unwarranted worry that's been weighing on his heart.

After a long pause where he checks if his Wi-Fi disconnected he finally hears a response, "No. She lives with her mother and father, she's an only child. And I’ve never known her to do anything physical like that."

His chest tightens, not what he wanted to hear. Her flinch this morning flashes brightly in his memory. He wasn't mistaken. He's sure of it, she'd been scared.

"Why?"

He can barely hear through the ringing in his ear, "Nothing. I have to go."

He signs off before the other boy can reply, walking autopilot to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Chopping vegetables does nothing to stop the nausea bubbling in his stomach.

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Taking the bus the next day is out of the question, he has spent the entire weekend wishing he had the nerve to get the girl's number but anyone he asked would misunderstand why and he didn't need anymore rumors circulating, he would just have to get it from her himself. If she wanted him to mind his business she shouldn't have collapsed where he could see.

The engine rumbles between his legs as he brings his motorcycle to a stop, swinging off effortlessly before tugging the helmet off and shaking his hair free. He doesn't notice the various lecherous female and male eyes watching his very moment, too focused on walking into the school and finding her.

Turning a corner he sees her instantly, sandwiched between her two best friends, they look like a high school brochure giggling as they walk down the hallway garnering the attention of most of the male population. The purple bruise on her cheek is missing, nothing but smooth blemish free skin. He almost does a double take. As all three of them pass him, he locks eyes with Sujin for a moment, the mask slides off for a second but the moment he blinks the façade snaps back into place, nothing left but a pretty empty smile.

He follows them into class, sliding into his seat and promptly going to sleep. He has to catch her alone.

Doing so proves to be a near impossible feat, she's always surrounded by her two bestie shadows and Chorong and the gang are never far from him either. He sighs forlornly even time he sees her only for someone to interrupt before he can approach her. All too frustrated.

He's sitting dejected on the staircase when he hears the bustle of students in the hallway, their voices carrying down the long space and he rolls his eyes imagining what ridiculous situation they've deemed as drama now. Last time it was Ju-Kyung having pimples, a topic that was completely groundbreaking and worthy of weeks of discussion. So it's with the smallest shred of curiosity that he stands up wandering over to the commotion.

"What's going on?" He directs to the closest person, some mousy looking girl who stutters out an indecipherable answer. He looks at her confused before stalking away to find someone who has a better grasp of communication. He poses the question again, to a boy this time.

"I heard one of the girls started freaking out in the bathroom. Screaming not to be touched."

He stands frozen before the words register in his brain and his feet are moving without his brain's permission. Shoving past gossiping bystanders, he easily gets to the front only to see Ju-Kyung covering someone with her sweater as they walk down the hallway. Immediately the crowd comes alive and they surge forward like a wave all calling questions out at once, "What's wrong with you?", "Why did you freak out?", "Who do you think you are? Are you too rich to be touched or something?"

He twists his head around ferociously at the last question, everyone in front of him gulps while taking a step back. The hallway is a cacophony of voices and shouts and he can feel his anger boiling, slamming his fist into the nearest surface-a wall- he gets everyone's attention.

"Go back to your classes. Now."

Some of the male students look as if they are going to challenge his authority but another step forward is all it takes to get the student body scampering to their classrooms.

Inhaling deeply he stomps off to find the source of his unease.

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It had been hard to disregard, how lacking of warmth her house was. Seojun's apartment had been brimming with warmth and love, the fridge bursting with papers and drawings documenting that someone cared enough to show them off. Her home was a large empty prison in comparison.

But she'd been right, it was dark and quiet proof that her parents were not home. With her heart in her throat she ran to her room, locking the door behind her. Sleep captured her before she knew she was in its grasps, waking up groggy hours later and forgetting where she was. Fierce pounds on her door reminded her instantly.

"Open this door now."

His voice is a low growl, even more terrifying than when he's screaming his lungs out. She grabs her vanity chair pressing it under the door knob for more protection.

She jumps when the door bulges, the loud crashing making it clear that he's slamming bodily into the door now determined to get to her.

"Please....stop." She pleads, tears already cascading down her bruised cheeks.

"Open this fucking door!!"

She's sobbing now, body folded as she cries her eyes out shaking viciously as her father continues to ran into the door, dread filling her stomach as he's never fought this hard before.

Then everything is quiet.

The pounding is gone as suddenly as it arrived. She doesn't let go her panic just yet, still too raw. Butt seconds crawl to minutes and she hears nothing so she finally exhales, sliding to the floor in relief.

She weakly crawls to her bathroom, turning the dial to the hottest temperature possible wanting to burn off his brand on her skin. After her shower she brushes her wet hair, staring at the bruise, it's turning yellow now with tinges of purple. Good thing she let Su-ah and Ju-Kyung convince her to buy foundation the last time they were in the beauty store. She will have to layer it on tomorrow.

She's starving but the thought of leaving her room with him in the house is enough to eliminate her appetite. Instead she puts on a warm sweater and sweat pants and wraps herself in a thick blanket, still too cold ice running through her veins.

She had never felt as warm as she did at his house.

A quiet knock thankfully pulls her away from such unnecessary thoughts. She simply listens.

"Su-jin, it's mom. I brought you food."

She sits up, crawling out of bed to stand in front of the bed. Her mother has never brought her food, even when she was nine and hadn't gotten a perfect score on her spelling test and her father locked her in the closet for two days with only a dictionary. She'd contemplated eating the pages before she was finally set free. Her mother had simply looked away, avoiding eye contact until she was safely back in her room.

But her stomach grumbles at the mention of sustenance and despite her best judgement she opens the door.

It's a mistake.

Immediately she notes that her mother has nothing in her hands, trembling herself and before she can slam the door shut a foot blocks her escape.

He uses the belt that time whipping her in places that others will never see, her back, thighs, and shoulders. Her mother's weakly calls out, "Don't hit her face she has to meet that boy you wanted this week."

It goes on for what seems like hours, he leaves her crumpled on the ground her body stinging as she refused to cry, blinking her tears away not wanting to give him what he wants. When her mother meekly walks over and extends a hand to her, she looks at her with listless eyes. Her mother has a fresh bruise on her cheek, her father hardly hits her anymore using Sujin has his punching bag instead but at times of high frustration he would regress.

She wonders if her mother knew that one day this would be her faith. If this was the purpose of her birth.

She doesn't take the hand. It seems there was still some hope left, it is extinguished now.

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The school day had been easy she's been hiding her abuse for years, no teacher had ever suspected a thing and she didn't even blame them. It would just be bothersome, her father was a powerful man there wouldn't be much they could do.

She slaps on a smile, allowing herself to be dragged around by Su-ah and Ju-Kyung, listening as they giggle about their boyfriends chiming in the appropriate moments to not seem disinterested or jealous. She is jealous though, of their freedom and innocent problems, she'd lost her innocence a long time ago.

She knows Seojun is trying to talk to her but she can't handle seeing him right now, having to face someone who knows what she's going through sounds worst than being beat right now. So she jolts at every sight of the tall lanky figure, thankful for his fan club who seems to announce his every arrival. She's on her way to having a successful day when everything goes to hell.

She's in the bathroom drying her hands when a classmate comes in, responding to the small talk she answers the girl's question before nodding her head in goodbye.

"Oh your tag is sticking out."

That's all she hears before a hand is brushing across her sore beaten neck and her reaction is instantaneous, she turns around catching the offending hand and twisting it.

Her throat wheezes out, "Don't touch me."

The girl stares at her wide-eyed before tugging her hand away, then other girls begin to come of the stalls to see what's happening and before she knows it she's hyperventilating on the ground, nonsensical words dripping off her tongue. Everything is too loud and her head is splitting in half just when her vision is graying out, she smells a familiar perfume.

"Su-jin ah, you're going to be okay. Just breathe with me, follow me."

Ju-Kyung's voice is calming and sure, not touching her but covering them both in her sweater as she models how to breathe, she follows until her lungs are no longer burning.

"Good. You're doing so good, is it okay if I touch you? I'm going to help you up."

She grabs at the bathroom wall yanking herself until she's upright, trying to show her friend that she's not that weak but a look of hurt is displayed on her face and Sujin doesn't comprehend why.

The other girl shakes it off though, now covering her fully with her cornflower yellow sweater.

She's suddenly reminded of her nightmare this morning as she has to pass all the students in the hallway, all pointing and laughing as she falls apart some of them even have their phone out recording her and she sways uneasily before catching herself, trembling the whole way she walks down the hallway until a loud bang and a voice she recognizes all too well silences the uproar.

Resisting the desire to look back she allows Ju-Kyung to pull her up the stairs until they're on the roof. Air pumps into her lungs as she's finally free of all the judgmental eyes.

She expects the other girl to start interrogating her the moment the door closes but it never comes, instead Ju-Kyung places her sweater around her trembling body.

"You're okay. Just keep breathing."

She does her best to follow the uncomplicated directions.

After a few minutes, Ju-Kyung's phone suddenly rings disturbing the quietude. She barely hears blood rushing in her ears like the waves at the beach.

"Okay we're on the roof."

She stills at that utterance, turning in alarm.

"Who was that? Who did you tell where we are?"

Ju-Kyung looks guilty, as if she wasn't meant to hear that conversation. She doesn't want to see anyone right now, can barely stand to be with herself.

"Call them back and tell them not to come. I want to be alone."

Ju-Kyung holds her phone in her hands gingerly staring at the screen, clearly contemplating what is the right decision. She almost lunges for the phone to see who is the most recent call, but it's not needed as the roof door slams open.

"Why are you here?" She shouts, walking away now furious that tears are already filling her eyes now just at the sight of him.

"Nice to see you too princess." He drawls back, following her further onto to roof.

"Will you two be okay? I have to go back to class."

She spins to glare at her friend, why would she leave her alone with Seojun? They have had any interaction at school that hasn't been antagonistic.

"Yes, we need to talk." He answers for them and that's enough to make Ju-Kyung nod before walking off with a smile in her direction. The door shuts loudly behind her retreating back, Sujin wants to chase after her. Instead she turns back to him spitting fire and poison.

"I told you to mind your business."

"Are you okay?" He counters, eying her like a wild animal who can bolt at any minute, he isn’t wrong.

"That's none of your business!"

His expression remains the same, those beguiling feline eyes that scream at her.

"How hurt are you?"

Her emotions come crashing down again. He just keeps pushing and picking at her, no matter how much she shouts and shoves him away he just won’t go away like everyone else did. What is wrong with him? Couldn’t he see that she was more trouble than she was worth?

"What do you want to hear, huh? That everything hurts, that he used a belt this time! Do you want to hear about how he beat me until I bleed! Why do you care what happens me, why won't you leave me the fuck alone!"

Sobs ravage her body, she keeps brushing the fiery tears away fighting with her emotions but they won't stop and her palms are wet from covering her face, her breath is hitching until she starts hiccupping uncontrollably and she starts to feel light-headed.

"Hey! Su-jin! Breathe!"

But she can't, she doesn't remember how. Her body only knows how to hurt.

"Breathe, damnit!" Despite his shout, she hears the slight quiver in his voice but she can't discern why it's there but it desperately makes her want to obey.

When he cups her head, staring her head on she feels the vine wrapped around her lungs shrivel up and air starts gushing in until she feels dizzy, she sways back and forth gravity now also working against her and then she's being reeled in, her head placed on his chest. The thumping of his heart lulls her into a meditative state, she starts to count the beats and before she knows it the cobwebs in her head subside. Embarrassed by their sudden closeness, his arms are still by his side now almost immediately retracting from her head but she can feel his warmth radiating onto the skin of her thighs, she begins to draw back.

"Just stay. It's helping."

She blisters at his words, preparing to push him away.

"It's helping me, seeing you like that....it scared me. I helped you the other night, you should return the favor."

She puffs up before deflating, she'll never admit it but this is helping having something else to focus on, his scent, his heartbeat, the way his chest expands and constricts with every breath. The buzz of their skin nearly touching, his deep voice rumbling through his chest and into her ears, all placating and soothing her worries away.

"Fine."

She's never known Seojun to stay still for this long after years of attending the same school, always bursting with kinetic energy so she's pleasantly surprised by how long he simply stands and lets her rest on his chest, neither of them saying a word.

She stiffens when he suddenly starts moving disturbing their stillness, she sees his hands balled into tight fists by his side and wonders what's going through his mind.

"You can't go back there."

This again, she starts to remind him that she has nowhere to g--

"Stay with me."

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #kang sujin #han seojun #the couple that should have been #timeline is around recent episodes just minus ALL of the bullshit #sujin is a good girl and I won't hear anything else #can't wait to make her smile

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bungou-stray-dingus · 4 years ago

Note

I’ve just read the head cannons of Chuuya and Dazai’s bebes and I love it 🥰 can you write how they’ll react when someone kidnapped their babies and how they would get them back? QwQ

A/N : I've been gone for so long and I'm so sorry. This request and many others have laid dormant in my ask box for many many months and I'm so sorry. I went through big depression kick, and I didn't write for a while. I ended up getting laid off from my job because of the rona, and everything just felt uncertain for a while and I honestly didn't really know what to do. I slowly got back into writing, starting off with my fanfiction just to get back into the swing of it, and now I'm ready to make y'all proud and finish all the requests! I'm sorry for making you all wait so long, and I want this request and all other requests that I answer to be amazing for all of you. So, here we go! -Hopefully (still) Your Favorite Dingus

T/W : angst; kidnapping; slight mention of blood;

Osamu Dazai

Kazue was the literal light of his life, aside from you... obviously. You and his son were the center of his entire universe, he would do anything for you and his son. He made that quite known, considering how spoiled your son was already. At three years old, Dazai had already managed to buy your son everything he did, and sometimes didn't need.

Your son was a lot like his dad in the way that he liked to run off often, having you worried sick in the middle of the grocery store of mall. Dazai would often find him at the gumball machines or the tiny change eating rides in the middle of the mall. Your son hated to be confined in his stroller, and Dazai agreed that strollers were awful contraptions and that your son should be allowed to walk around.

His views quickly changed when you were out shopping for groceries one afternoon. Dazai was at work, and trying to keep your son in the shopping cart proved to be impossible, so you had agreed to let him out of the cart as long as he stayed close to you and hold your hand. You promised to get him candy if he followed those two simple rules, but thanks to Dazais relaxed parenting, your son just assumed he'd get candy no matter what. (Thanks Dazai)

You had only let go of his hand for a second, kneeling down to grab something from the bottom shelf. The last thing you heard was the small cry of "Momma!" and when you shot up and turned around he was gone. Your heart sank as you dropped the item in your hand and ran to the front of the store, asking the employees if they had seen your son, showing them the pictures in your wallet, and all of them shook their head, only able to offer their sympathies to you.

Calling your husband was the hardest part, trying to keep your voice and your hands steady as you held your phone up to your ear. The employees had already called the police for you, and they were scouring the entire store trying to look for any clue as to where your son could be.

When you had managed to tell Dazai what happened, he was on his way to the store, he didn't waste any time at all. He was furious, and at first he took his anger out on you. "I thought you were watching him!" "How could you let this happen?!" "Why would you let him go!?" He was angry and he wasn't thinking straight, but as soon as he saw how his words affected you, he quickly pulled you into a hug, peppering the top of your head with kisses. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry, darling. It's not your fault."

An officer brought over Kazue's stuffed kitty cat which was a gift from Fukuzawa. He had gotten it on his first birthday and refused to part with it, he brought it with him everywhere. The sight of the kitty cat not being held by Kazue made you throw up immediately, your mind jumping to the worst possible scenario. You heard Dazai grit his teeth, his arm was wrapped around you tightly, and his grip on your shirt tightened.

The two of you race to the Agency, every other case that they had been working on is dropped instantly. Desks are cleared and pushed together to draw out a map of the entirety of Yokohama. You're sitting on one of the couches in the office, Kazue's kitten clutched against your chest, your tears soaking the top of the plushy. The light in Dazais eyes has disappeared completely, he's stern, on edge. His voice is hard but you can hear it break occasionally at the end of his sentences, especially when he says his sons name.

Ranpo and Atsushi are the main people Dazai communicates with, his voice is mixed with the constant slamming of his fists on the desk when his emotions take over completely. "Where the hell is my son!?" He shouts as he drops his head into his hands. That's the only time he'll cry, his body shaking violently. You walk over and wrap your arms around him from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder as you both sob.

Everyone had been sitting around the office quietly watching you and Dazai have your moment. They all felt hopeless, especially when Dazai had initially went to Ranpo and he didn't seem to have a clue as to where Kazue was or who had taken him. "Why... Why would anyone take him? What's the reason? I want to know a reason!" Dazai shouted, his fists once again coming down on the desk. You pulled away quickly, giving him his space to lash out. He threw everything off the desk, his head dropping into his arms that were folded against the desk and letting out a scream.

His strength was being tested, he was breaking. It killed you to see him like this, you knew that there was nothing you could do to calm him. There was nothing worse that could ever happen to him, his son was everything to him. Kazue was the reason he had stopped attempting suicide, Kazue gave him a reason to stay alive, Kazue was his life line. Dazai loved his son with every fiber of his being, and right now he not only lost his son, he lost his reason for living. If anything were to happen to your son, if the worst case scenario was the actual case, you were sure that you would lose your husband as well.

All hope had seemed lost, the sun was quickly setting over the city. Everyone was emotionally exhausted. You were curled up on the couch, your head resting on Dazai's lap, his fingers massaging your scalp. "Please, get some rest darling. You need it." He whispered to you when he saw you slowly drift to sleep only to have your eyes open quickly. You felt bad for falling asleep, knowing that your son was out there somewhere without you or his father.

You handed Dazai the stuffed kitten before rolling over and trying to get comfortable. "Here, if anything comes up.. he's gonna need his Fuwa." You said sleepily, and you heard Dazai's chuckle, it sounded like he was being choked. He sniffled as he grabbed the kitten and brought it up to his face, silently crying into it.

Ranpo stood up from his chair and made his way over to the desk, pulling the map up off the floor and laying it flat on the desk. His eyes were wide open, the soft emerald green had long since turned as hard as the gem itself. Dazai shifted you off his lap and made his way over to Ranpo, stuffing Fuwa into his coat pocket. Atsushi followed him over and they both peered over Ranpo's shoulder, looking down at the map, following where Ranpo pointed with his fingers.

"The warehouse... next to the Port. Whoever it was quick enough to be gone before Y/N could notice, but he was still able to drop his cat. That means the person was on foot, so this person would have to be somewhere close to the store so a scene wouldn't be made, but somewhere they could hide him. They're most likely expecting us to show up, they want something in return, this is a ransom kidnapping." Ranpo said and Dazai nodded, trusting him with 100% of his being. He had to be right, but Dazai also knew how some ransom situations worked out. If it took too long...

"We have to go now." Dazai growled, and Ranpo nodded, Atsushi "hmph"ing in agreement. Kunikida stood up from his chair, joining the three of them by the door.

"None of you know how to drive. Let's go." Kunikida had a soft spot for Kazue, he wanted your son home safe as much as everyone else. (Even if he thought his father was a complete dunce.)

Everyone in the office agreed to stay with you just in case you woke up before the four of them got back, and with that they all ran out the door, hopping into Kunikida's car and speeding off towards the warehouse.

When they got there, they snuck up to the doors of the warehouse. Dazai leaned his head against the door, hoping to hear something, anything that would indicate that his son was in there. His heart was beating fast, and as much as he wanted to murder someone for stealing his son in the first place, he wanted to bring Kazue home with him, bring him back to you safe and sound more than anything else.

"Momma... Daddy..." He heard the soft whimpers of his son coming from the inside of the warehouse. It sounded like he was crying and Dazai to control his urge to kick down the door right then and there. He needed to be careful so that no harm would come to his son, but the sounds of his son softly crying had him seeing red. "Pwease..." He heard his son again and his heart shattered, the sound of his son pleading with his captor had him on the verge of an anger induced emotional breakdown.

Kunikida pulled the gun from the back of his pants and silently counted down from three before they pulled the door open. All four of them had guns, refusing to let Atsushi use his ability out of fear of hurting Kazue. There was one man in the corner of the room, a gun pointed at the head of your son as he smirked up at the four men. They all stopped dead in their tracks, dropping their guns to the ground and holding their hands up in the air. "Please, don't hurt him..." Dazai choked out, his eyes locking with his son in the corner.

"Took you all long enough to show up, thought you guys were detectives. He was becoming a pain in my ass, constantly crying, asking for his mommy and daddy and his Fuwa." The man chuckled as he cocked the gun back and pointed it back at your son. "Do you know why I'm doing this? Do you know?!" The guy shouted and Kazue cried out, his arms outstretched for Dazai.

He felt like he was going to collapse, the room was spinning, he had to compose himself though, he had to stay focused. He looked to Kunikida and Atsushi, hoping the plan would work out how they had said.

Kunikida quickly bent down and grabbed his gun off the floor, firing one shot at the arm of the man, making him drop the gun. Kazue let out a shrill scream and Dazai took this moment to run over and scoop him up off the floor, holding him close against his chest. The other three ran over to the man, Atsushi and Kunikida pinned him down on the ground as Ranpo cuffed his arms behind his back.

After the police took the man away they all made their way back to the Agency building, Dazai was in the back of the car holding Kazue on his lap, rocking him back and forth as his son fell asleep in his arms. The man had been one of the criminals they had captured before Kazue was even born. He had held an entire bank and its customers hostage, but had never actually killed someone, so he was let out on good behavior recently. He had been stalking Dazai, and he found out about you and Kazue and decided that he would have his revenge for the Agency ruining his life. None of them ever found out if the man would have actually hurt Kazue, and honestly, they didn't want to know, they were all just happy that he was unharmed.

When they walked through the door and you saw Kazue being cradled in Dazais arms you fell to your knees and cried. Tanizaki and Yosano had to help you stand up, and as soon as you found your footing you ran over to Dazai. "Hi Momma!"

Dazai now sternly enforced the stroller rule, he didn't want to go through anything like that ever again.

Chuuya Nakahara

Asa was his princess and you were his queen. But his daughter, oof, if anyone even looked at his daughter wrong for crying he would kill someone. Do not test Chuuya when it comes to his child. He would kiss the ground that she crawls on, he loves her so much.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think his office was a shrine dedicated to her and you. There were framed pictures of you and her, and sometimes the three of you hung on his wall, propped up on his desk and coffee table, pretty much any surface that could have pictures, they were covered.

She had just celebrated her first birthday, she was learning how to walk which Chuuya would not shut up about. If there was ever a moment to talk about his daughter he would. The Mafia members had all learned to just deal with it, knowing that if they looked agitated about the constant talk of his daughter they would either be demoted or have their asses kicked.

"Does she really have to start sleeping in her own room? She's got a crib in our room, I don't see the problem." Chuuya whispered to you from the couch as you made your way into the room opposite of yours and his. She had an entire nursery that was practically unused due to protective parenting. He really didn't see a reason in having her in a completely different room when it was so much easier to have her in yours and his room. If she woke up, he could get her immediately and get her back to sleep in the bed between the two of you.

When you came out of the bedroom you sat with him on the couch, his arm habitually wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer. He turned down the television so he could hear the monitor clearly. "If she gets too used to sleeping with us in our room, she'll never want to sleep in her own room. She's not that much further. You're spoiling her, honey." He groaned and you stifled your laughter, propping yourself up to press a quick peck to his cheek. "We should try to get some rest while she's sleeping. Come on."

The two of you laid in your bed, he held you close against his chest while you traced hearts against his bare chest with your finger. "I don't know why she has to sleep in her own room now though. She's only a year old. She's still my baby. I feel better having her close." He sighed, adjusting his free hand behind his head as he turned to look over at the video monitor, the corner of his lips twitching up slightly as he watched his daughter sleep peacefully in her crib.

"You're scared of her growing up. She's turned you into a big softy. You know, she's gonna keep growing."

"Don't say that. She's only one." He pulled his arm out from underneath you and ran his hands over his face. He hated thinking of her getting bigger, growing older. The thought of her not being the adorable, babbling baby that waddled over to the door whenever he walked in with open arms was enough to make him almost cry. ALMOST.

"You know... we can have more..." You said almost too seductively as you peppered kisses across his shoulders. It was supposed to be a joke, but he didn't take it as such. He wouldn't mind one or two more little princesses or princes teetering around the house.

The two of you thoroughly tired each other out, the night seemed to be going perfectly. Asa hadn't woken up yet, and this was the first time the two of you had been able to be intimate in that way since she had reached the eight month mark. You fully blamed Chuuya for that though, he had spoiled her so much, but he didn't seem to mind it at the time. Now he seemed to be convinced that having her in a separate room wasn't such a bad thing.

Everything was silent, the only sound was the crickets chirping outside and the occasional sound of a car passing by in the distance. That would shortly come to an end though, the sound of glass breaking and Asa's blood curdling scream coming from both the monitor and the room across the hall had jolted you and Chuuya from your peaceful slumber. You grabbed the monitor off the nightstand and Chuuya ordered you to stay in bed as he ran out of the room and into Asa's room. You knew though, it was too late as you saw the cloaked man who was holding your daughter jump out of the window just as the door flew open and Chuuya came into view on the screen.

"NO! Son of a BITCH!" His screeching voice was just as loud as your daughters cries had been and you dropped the monitor into your lap on the bed as the realization hit you. This wouldn't have happened if you had just listened to Chuuya, if you had let her sleep in your bedroom as she always had. He ran back into the room, flicking the lights on as he went over to the closet and quickly got dressed.

"This... this is my fault... if I would have listened..." You said, not able to face your him at all. He turned to face you, sighing as he tried to calm his nerves. He was already fully dressed, ready to hunt down and murder the asshole who had the nerve to take HIS daughter. He made his way around the bed to the side you were on, grabbing your face in his hands and kissing you softly.

"Don't you even dare blame yourself. I'm gonna get her back. I need you to stay here though, I can't have you getting hurt." You knew what he meant. The way that he felt right now, this would probably turn into an all out war, and if you were in the wrong place at the wrong time you could end up injured. You nodded slowly, kissing him one last time before he ran out of the room and out the front door.

He barely gave the car time to start up before slamming his foot down on the gas pedal, peeling out of the parking spot and speeding down the street. His vision was blurry as the tears started to stream out of his eyes, he was only able to keep his composure long enough to hopefully make you feel better. Now that he was alone he had hurdled the thin line between lashing out and having a complete mental and emotional breakdown.

The only thing keeping him from getting into a severe car accident was knowing that he had to stay alive to save Asa. Although he couldn't see where he was going through his clouded vision, he had dedicated the route to muscle memory, and he could luckily see faint streaks of red and green lights indicating braking cars and traffic lights.

When he got to the headquarters he got some questionable stares from the guards, it was three o'clock in the morning, considerably late, or maybe early, to be coming into work. When they attempted to speak to him he couldn't even mumble out a "fuck off" through his sobs. He raced up the stairs, not having the patience to deal with waiting for the elevator to get him up to the floor he needed to be on.

He stormed into Mori's office, and, not unlike his boss, he found him sitting at his desk, his hands folded under his chin as he stared down at the papers in front of him. "They said you'd be on your way up. What's wrong Chuuya?" Mori asked, motioning to the armchair in front of his desk. Chuuya didn't want to sit though, so he strode over to the desk, slamming the note that had been left in Asa's room down in front of Mori. "What is this?" Mori asked, grabbing the note between his gloved fingers and unfolding it.

"He got my Asa. I'm gonna fucking kill him!" Chuuya screamed, remembering the words that had been carefully scripted out on the thick note paper.

"For the beautiful woman who was murdered by one of your own. I shall avenge her. An eye for an eye. -H"

He knew exactly who "H" was, and he knew exactly who the beautiful woman was that he was speaking of. What he didn't understand was why he would target his family, his daughter to get back at the Mafia for what had happened. Chuuya hadn't even taken part in the situation that had sparked this outcome, so it made absolutely no sense to him.

"Chuuya, you need to stay calm. Asa is loved dearly by everyone here, I will get together everyone needed to find her." Chuuya found his bosses strange sense of composure to be infuriatingly irritating.

"How could I possibly stay calm!?" Chuuya shouted, he wanted to lash out, he wanted to go off on someone, anyone.

"I would feel the same way if it was my darling Elise who had been taken." Mori said, but that was a mistake. Chuuya sighed, exasperated. He was pacing the floor, but when Mori had the audacity to utter those words, he punched the wall that he was closest to, leaving a large hole.

"She's your god damn ability! You wouldn't understand half of what I was feeling because this is my actual fucking DAUGHTER! So don't tell me I need to stay calm!" Chuuya screamed, the tears seemed to flow endlessly, staining his cheeks as they ran down to his chin, hanging on for only a second before splashing down onto the hard wood floors. Mori didn't argue back, he knew that Chuuya was emotionally unstable right now, so he just nodded in agreement.

"So what is it that you need me to do?" He asked, the phone already in his hand as his fingers hovered over the dial.

"Get everyone here..." Chuuya muttered before finally crashing down in the armchair. His sobs had eventually become choked off, and he was left shaking in the chair, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest as he tried to hold himself together.

Everyone had filed into the office, some of them looked agitated, others looked tired and pissed off that they had been woken up, but when they saw Chuuya's current state they knew that something was wrong. His usual smug, cocky smirk seemed to have been erased, the only emotion that was left to be read on his face was pain.

Chuuya didn't need to say much, no one needed a thorough explanation to jump into action. Asa was the one beacon of light that graced the walls of the Mafia headquarters whenever Chuuya brought her in. She had even managed to make Akutagawa crack a small smile when she had burped in Chuuya's face and then spit up on his freshly laundered coat.

Around five o'clock in the morning he got a call from you. He answered it quickly, and it broke his heart to hear how distraught you were. "H-Hi honey... It's almost time for her bottle. She'll need to eat soon, and she'll need to be changed, and and and... god, please tell me you've found her..." You were a mess, and he could only imagine how much harder it was for you to be there in your home, surrounded by all of her things but not her.

"Not yet... but I swear, I'm gonna bring her home to you, okay? Trust me." He needed you to trust him, because right now all hope seemed lost. There was no possible leads as to where the jackass could be keeping her, nobody knew where to find the guy.

"It's... It's so quiet... please bring her home." You whispered out between broken sobs, he heard you try to swallow back the lump that had been building in your throat. He could only nod, giving you a small hum as an answer.

After you had hung up, whispering out a solemn "I love you." Before ending the call he was right back at it. He was dead set on catching this guy today. Not only had he stolen away his daughter, but he had destroyed his wife, his love... This man had crossed a line and he was going to pay for it.

"Oi, Chuuya. Look, at the bottom of the note." Tachihara said, he had the note close up to his face, his eyes squinting as he focused on the tiny scrawling at the bottom of the page. Chuuya ran over and snatched the paper out of his hands, walking over to the large window to try to shine some light onto the paper and see the writing clearer.

"For fucks sake, they're coordinates! They were here the entire time!" Chuuya was seething now, this must have been a sick game to that man. Chuuya grabbed his coat off the back of the chair and headed for the door, but he was stopped by Mori who placed a hand on his chest.

"This might be a trap, how do you know it's not?" Mori said and there was a soft murmur of agreement from the group of people that were standing around.

"Does it matter!? She could be there and that's all that matters!" Chuuya screamed, the tears that threatened to spill were stinging his eyes. The fact that they thought he cared about his own safety as this moment was almost laughable, he would have laughed if his throat didn't feel like it was closing in on itself. "If you're so fucking worried than I'll take Akutagawa..." This is all his fault anyway, isn't it? Akutagawa was the one who had murdered the woman who he was avenging, so he might as well come along.

Chuuya pulled the coordinates up on his phone and it pinpointed a building that seemed on the map to be rundown and abandoned. A princess like Asa didn't belong in a place like that, it made him sick to even imagine his beautiful, precious daughter in such a desolate area. He growled as the directions read that it would take an hour and a half, maybe two hours to get there.

He would make it in half the time though. He could give a shit less about traffic rules, and if the cops even dared to try to stop him on his mission, the wrath of Hell and Chuuya would be brought down upon them. He sped down the streets, winding through traffic like it was nothing. He didn't speak a word to Akutagawa, and Akutagawa knew not to talk to him right now either. Chuuyas mind was a frenzy, a whirlwind of emotions. A mixture of anger, depression, rage, and heartache, and all of those emotions were just simmering.

The devil himself wouldn't be able to stomach what Chuuya planned on doing to the man who took his daughter from him.

He made it there in record time, the drive only took fifty five minutes, an hour tops to get there. The entire drive, Chuuya's eyes would glance in the windshield mirror, looking back at the empty car seat, hoping that it would soon be filled with his perfect little bundle of joy to be brought home.

Chuuya kicked the door in and his eyes immediately zeroed in on the trail of blood droplets on the floor. His heart sank while his stomach rose, he tried to control his dry heaving as horrid images and scenes filled his mind. "Remember his ability, it uses blood." Akutagawa said sternly, trying to keep Chuuya from losing it completely already.

They followed the trail up a case of stairs that seemed like a safety hazard, and Chuuya hated to think that his daughter was in this place at all. It wasn't safe enough for her to be in, she could get hurt at any point. This place needed to be demolished as soon as he got her out of here. He would do it himself if the city didn't want to.

The blood stopped in front of a door, and as soon as Chuuya heard the soft whimpering of his daughter behind the door he kicked it in. She was sitting in a small dingy playpen in the corner of the room, and Akutagawa had to hold Chuuya back to keep him from running straight for her.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!? SHE'S RIGHT THERE!" Chuuya shouted, alerting his daughter to his presence. She pulled herself up on the rails of the playpen, stomping her feet to show him that she was becoming impatient.

"This might be the trap. We need to be careful." Akutagawa hissed, and Chuuya knew he was right. He sighed and peaked into the room, scanning it entirely to make sure it was empty before stepping in. Akutagawa followed close behind, Rashomon creating a shield around himself and Chuuya as they made their way over to Asa.

As soon as Chuuya got close enough he pulled her out of the playpen, holding her tight against his chest. He breathed her in, finding instant comfort in the smell of the all too familiar baby lotion and lavender shampoo that you used for her nightly baths. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting, princess. My beautiful baby girl, daddy loves you so much." He cooed to her, but just as things seemed to be going flawlessly, a loud scream escaped her tiny rose petal lips.

A hail of what seemed like bullets were fired across the room, and one of them managed to hit her leg. Chuuya held onto his composure long enough to check her leg, it had just skimmed by, but it was enough to make her bleed and to make her cry. He was trembling, all of his emotions had formed into one cluster fuck of pure, unfiltered rage. He passed Asa over to Akutagawa and ordered him to leave the room through his teeth. Akutagawa didn't bother to argue, instead wrapping Rashomon around himself and Asa completely and running out of the room and down the stairs.

Chuuyas teeth were barred as the man stepped out from the darkest shadow of the room. He didn't have time to speak before Chuuya charged at him, tackling him to the ground and pummeling him with his bare hands, the force of his ability behind each and every punch would leave the man unrecognizable. He was going to kill him, he wanted to kill him, but the vibration of his phone in his pocket made him stop. He pulled his phone out and when he saw it was you it brought him back to reality, the reality that his daughter was waiting for him, and you were still at home waiting for him to bring her home.

He answered it, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he wiped the blood of the man off his hands. "Did you find her? Tell me you found her!" Your voice was hoarse, he knew that you hadn't stopped crying. He couldn't keep you waiting any longer, you deserved to hold Asa in your arms as well.

"We'll be home in an hour or two." He said, and it felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off his shoulders when he heard your sigh of relief at his words.

Two Months Later

Chuuya was propped up on the floor, his head resting in his open palm as he bounced Asa's plush horse across the floor, making the horse noises as he did so. The sound of Asa's laughter was music to his ears, and her wide smile was just as beautiful as she flaunted her newly sprouted bottom two teeth. She crawled across the floor towards Chuuya who quickly lifted her up in the air. "Airplane Asa coming in for the landing!" He said playfully as he lowered her down to her his face and pressed a quick kiss to her nose.

His head shot up as he heard the bedroom door open. You had your hands behind your back, and the wide smile that spread across your face when you saw him made his heart flutter. He sat up, his back against the couch now, Asa on his lap attempting to imitate her fathers horse sounds as she bounced the plush horse across her lap. "What's up, baby?" Chuuya asked, wondering what could possibly be behind your back.

You moved your hands to the front, holding the white stick between two fingers and smiling down at him. "Congratulations, daddy."

a/n : I hope you enjoyed my first request after my ridiculously long hiatus. Again, I apologize for being gone so long, but I can't wait to start working on all the requests that are in my inbox. I love you all!

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd imagines #bsd scenarios #bsd headcanons #Dazai Osamu #Nakahara Chuuya #chuuya nakahara x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #chuuya headcanons #dazai headcanons

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littleoddwriter · 4 years ago

Text

You're Alright (Part 2) | Roman Sionis x Male!Reader

A vent fic, again, or rather the continuation of one. I started writing this in the morning and wasn't gonna write on it for another day or two, but Uhhh, shit went down just now before going to bed, courtesy of my mom this time, so I decided to quickly add that to the fic and upload it before finally going to sleep. Anyway, there y'all go.

Summary; Your wounded arms are only getting worse, Roman says something hurtful without meaning it, but it's okay quickly.

Notes; TW // Contamination OCD; Injury; Open Wounds (nothing explicit, but obviously there); Mentions of doctors. Male!Reader; Emotional Hurt/Comfort; Bad reaction to a hand lotion; also a bad reaction from Roman.

Part 2

The morning after you had taken care of your wounds in the best possible way, you woke up with even more. It was very frustrating and it hurt a lot. You didn't tell Roman that, though, when he asked if it had helped at all. You just shrugged and said you couldn't tell yet.

Then after another night's sleep, you had even more new open wounds. That morning your inner forearm was itching like all hell, too, so you scratched it, like you always did. You found yourself regretting that about half an hour later, when you noticed that your arm now had an open wound too, which went unevenly from your wrist and almost all the way up to the crook of your elbow. It hurt a lot. You couldn't make a secret of it either, since you were forced to wear a t-shirt, so as not to get lint in any of your wounds again. It was really bad.

You were in a constant state of pain. Every little movement of your fingers, hands and arms was filled with agony. You couldn't remember it being this bad ever since it has started.

Roman noticed it soon enough, when he finally had a free minute that day. He sat down on his armchair in the living area and patted his thighs. Without another word, you settled on them, leaning back against his chest, as his arms wrapped around you. Then he shifted you around a little to make it more comfortable for him. Sighing, you relaxed into him. His warmth and presence was always so comforting to you.

Keeping one arm wrapped around your middle, he used the other one to lift your heavily wounded one to look at it.

"Sweetheart, you really should have a doctor take a look at this," he rasped, as he raised your arm all the way to his masked face and nudged his mouth's zipper against your forearm, careful not to actually touch your wounds with it. You shuddered.

"I don't wanna see a doctor. Roman, please," you whined, trying to pull your arm out of his grip to no avail. You were so ashamed.

"I'm concerned, my sweet boy. What if it's getting infected, hm? What then?" He didn't let go of your arm, speaking against it, which tickled a little, making you squirm in his lap.

"Wouldn't be the first time," you muttered, looking away.

"Exactly. And was that pleasant? Do you want to repeat that?"

"Not really, no."

"That's what I thought. You know I trust my doctor not to hurt you in any way, right?" You nodded. "Then let me call him, alright, sweetheart?"

You thought about it for a few moments. In the back of your mind, you knew that Roman would call and force that doctor on you, even if you refused; he was only asking to make you feel like you had a choice at all, which you kind of appreciated.

So, eventually you relented, turning your head to look at him again, and sighed deeply, "Okay, you can call him. But can we wait until tomorrow with the appointment? Please?"

"Why's that?"

"I'm really not in the right mental state for that. Just one more day, so I can prepare for it?"

Roman nodded, "Alright, tomorrow it is then. I don't care if you feel up to it then, or not, you're going to see him, Y/N."

"Yeah, okay." You leaned your face into his, kissing the - now lukewarm - zipper of his mask, as he finally let go of your arm. "I'm sorry for- all of that," you murmured against the metal.

"Don't, my sweet boy."

When you had seen the doctor, he couldn't really help you. He at least determined that none of your wounds were infected yet, but other than that he told you to continue trying out different lotions and applying them multiple times a day and not just at night, like you were prone to be doing.

A couple of nights later, you were getting ready for bed, following your usual routine, which ended in applying lotion on your hands, wrists and forearms. That night, you tried one out again that you remembered having before, but stopped using. You couldn't remember why, but you thought that maybe it just stopped helping like it happened so very often.

Not even a minute after you had rubbed it into your skin, you remembered exactly why you hadn't used it anymore. It was burning so fucking badly!

Roman had paid for all your lotions, and you also didn't want to waste it, and sometimes it burned first and then subsided anyway; so you shook your hands repeatedly, trying to get the overwhelming sensation out of you and just suck it up.

It didn't help. The burning sensation only got worse. It truly started to hurt. And apparently, your hands were very fucking red, as Roman saw your hands and immediately exclaimed, "Why are your hands so red? What the fuck have you done?"

"I just put on lotion, it's okay. It's probably from rubbing it in," you said, trying not to let him know how badly it was hurting you actually.

"It's usually not that bad. Your hands and wrists are purely red, they normally don't look like this when you rubbed in your lotion. What is it?"

"It's nothing, Roman, calm down."

"Sweetheart," he said in that kind of warning tone he sometimes got when he really wasn't in the mood to argue with you.

"The lotion might be burning a little, but it's okay. Maybe it just takes some time," you explained quietly, looking away.

"It shouldn't be burning. What the hell have you done?"

"It's not my fault!" You exclaimed, feeling a little hurt by the accusatory tone.

"Yes, it is!" He shot right back in a venomous tone of voice.

Your heart clenched painfully at that, as you immediately lowered your head and blinked back tears that immediately started burning your eyes.

"Which lotion did you use?" Roman asked, his voice softer again.

"The one that starts with a C," you mumbled, not raising your head.

"That's the one you said you've had before, right?" You nodded. "Alright then. I suppose now we know why you stopped using it. Wash it off, sweet boy, come on." He stirred you towards the bathroom with a gentle hand on your back.

Your eyes were still burning with tears that tried to make their way out, but you continued to blink them back and swallow them down. Just like your eyes, your hands were still burning immensely. You continued to shake them repeatedly, unconsciously. You might have done it during the entire conversation, too.

Under Roman's watchful, but hidden, gaze, you washed your hands twice, trying to really get rid of the lotion.

"Do you have to watch me?" You asked after a few moments.

"Yes," Roman just replied, taking one of the other lotions he's bought you in his hands. One you've used before that hasn't burned so far. "Use this for tonight then, alright, sweetheart?"

You nodded, as you carefully dried your hands with your towel, wincing in pain as it touched your wounds. The burning of your skin hasn't completely subsided yet, and your wounds started to itch, but you tried your best to not give in and make everything even worse.

When your hands were dry, you turned to Roman and took the little tube from him, squirting a rather big dollop of lotion onto your one hand, rubbing it over the wounded backs, wrists and forearms.

"Better?" Roman asked after a few moments, in which he kept watching you like a hawk.

"Yeah, I think so. Thank you."

Then suddenly, Roman's arms wrapped around you, pulling you into him. Your head rested against his chest, hearing his heart beat rather rapidly, as his arms tightened and released around you periodically. Carefully, you also embraced him, trying to keep your lotioned arms from his clothes.

"I didn't mean it the way it came out, before," Roman murmured into your hair, "I was just a little overwhelmed with concern. It was a bit of a shock to see your hands like this. Alright, my sweet boy?"

You just nodded against his chest. While you believed that he really was just worried and shocked, it still hurt. You didn't choose for your skin to react so badly. You didn't choose to have your hands turn so stark red that it even startled the man that had to live with his face being fused to a wooden mask.

With gentle hands, Roman cupped your face in his hands and lifted your head, looking at you. Then he leaned forward to nudge his masked face against yours in a mock kiss, like always. You smiled slightly and kissed the zipper affectionately.

You still felt hurt and it might last until the next day, but you knew he really cared about you.

#Tw contamination OCD #tw injury #tw open wounds #tw doctors #x male!reader #x male reader #male reader insert #male reader #roman sionis #roman sionis x male reader #roman sionis x you #roman sionis x y/n #roman sionis fanfiction #roman sionis imagine #red hood and the outlaws rebirth #red hood and the outlaws #Formatting on phone is shit once again #My eyes are falling shut every few seconds lol but I needed to upload this anyway #ok to reblog

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fanimesenseiwrites · 3 years ago

Text

Kidnapped to Hell (pt. 8)

Mammon woke up the next morning to Hoshiko running their fingers through his hair. He smiled slightly, still a little sleepy. "Hey."

Hoshiko smiled at him. "Good morning handsome."

"Did ya sleep any?" Mammon asked as he tightened his arms around Hoshiko's torso.

"Yup, a full five minutes," they responded, still focused on his hair.

Mammon sighed quietly and kissed their cheek. "Want some coffee?"

"That's probably a good idea... have I ever told you how much I love your hair?"

Mammon chuckled. "Yeah, I think so."

Hoshiko looked at him and kissed him.

Mammon kissed back gladly.

There was a knock on the door and then, "Hoshiko, breakfast is ready," Lucifer's voice came from the other side of the door.

Hoshiko sighed and turned their head towards the door. "Thank you!"

They waited until they heard Lucifer walk away before getting up out of bed.

Mammon sat up and stretched.

Hoshiko looked back at him and grinned. "Why are you so hot?"

Mammon looked at them with a slight blush. "Because I just am."

Hoshiko chuckled and went into their closet, grabbed a black t-shirt and threw it to Mammon. "You probably shouldn't go to breakfast without a shirt on."

"Yeah..." he looked at the shirt and sniffed it before putting it on. "Is this mine?"

"I think it is," Hoshiko replied as they changed out of their nightgown and into a sweatshirt and some jeans.

Mammon watched them.

Hoshiko looked at Mammon. "Enjoying the show?"

Mammon blushed a little but grinned. "Yeah."

Hoshiko rolled their eyes but grinned as well. "Come on, let's go get breakfast."

Mammon stood up and grabbed Hoshiko's hand.

Hoshiko smiled and led him out of their bedroom and into the dining room.

Beel, Asmo, Solomon, and Satan were all sitting at the table, eating.

Asmo looked at Hoshiko and Mammon as they entered and grinned. "What did you two do last night?"

"We slept together," Mammon boasted.

Lucifer was walking back into the dining room with some coffee just as Mammon said that; he stopped dead in his tracks. "Excuse me?"

Hoshiko rolled their eyes. "Mammon, don't be like that." They looked at Lucifer then at Asmo. "We only slept next to each other... well, Mammon slept."

"How boring..." Asmo commented quietly.

Lucifer shook his head at Asmo's comment then walked over to Hoshiko and set a cup of coffee down in front of them. "I had a feeling you hadn't slept, so I made you some coffee."

Hoshiko looked up at Lucifer then down at the cup. "Oh."

Lucifer hummed and sat down in his usual seat.

Hoshiko stared into the cup of coffee, suddenly consumed by the potential taste of it. They knew that if it tasted especially bitter they would almost definitely become angry, and were afraid of how they might lash out if they did. But even more than the potential bitterness, they feared a smooth and rich tasting coffee; fearing the thought of Lucifer not loving them after all.

Hoshiko sniffed. "I don't want coffee." They walked into the kitchen.

Lucifer frowned and watched Hoshiko leave.

Asmo immediately got up and went into the kitchen to check on Hoshiko.

"That's weird, they were just sayin' they wanted some coffee before we walked in here," Mammon mused.

"Did you say something to Hoshiko that I missed?" Satan asked Lucifer, just as confused as Lucifer was by Hoshiko's reaction.

"I haven't been able to say much of anything to them, they don't seem to want to talk to me," Lucifer replied, trying to hide how he really felt about it.

Satan hummed thoughtfully and continued eating.

Lucifer's thoughts lingered on Hoshiko as he started to eat as well.

Asmo peeked his head out into the dining room. "Solomon!" He hissed.

Solomon looked up at him.

Asmo motioned for him to come to the kitchen with his hand.

"Excuse me," Solomon spoke as he stood up, then headed into the kitchen. "What is it, Asmo?"

Asmo looked at Hoshiko.

Solomon looked where he looked.

Hoshiko was sitting on a bar stool, holding a damp wash cloth against their face.

Solomon frowned. "Hoshiko, what's wrong? How can I help?"

Hoshiko slowly slid the washcloth down their face until their face was no longer covered. The dark circles under their eyes had gotten worse, and their eyes and skin appeared dull. "Can you make me sleep? Like, do you have some kind of potion or spell that can force me to sleep?"

Solomon thought about it for a moment. "I believe I do." With a flourish of his hand he appeared to pull a spell book out of thin air.

"... that was pretty cool," Hoshiko commented.

Solomon grinned at them before opening the book and looking through it.

Hoshiko watched him and waited patiently.

"Aha!" Solomon exclaimed as he turned to a particular page.

"What? What is it?" Hoshiko asked as they moved to look at the page he was looking at.

Asmo moved to stand on the other side of Solomon and look as well.

Solomon looked at Asmo, then Hoshiko, then back at the book. "It's a tea spell. I just need some lavender buds and valerian root."

Hoshiko looked at Solomon skeptically. "Tea? You're gonna make me herbal tea, really?"

Solomon chuckled. "It will not just be tea, it will be infused with magic as well," Solomon assured them.

Hoshiko sighed. "Okay." They looked at Asmo. "Do y'all have lavender and valerian?"

"Let me check," Asmo replied before sauntering to the pantry to check their supplies.

Hoshiko looked at Solomon. "Do you actually think this will work?"

Solomon looked at them. "Honestly?"

"Honestly," Hoshiko confirmed.

"It's hit or miss. I don't know if my magic can overpower the influence of the eight circles."

Hoshiko nodded and leaned on his shoulder. "I hope it can... I'm so exhausted, like even more than if I normally hadn't slept for two days."

Solomon frowned. "I'm going to help you the best I can."

Hoshiko nodded. "Thanks..."

Asmo walked back into the kitchen holding two ceramic jars. "We have both!" He sang.

Hoshiko and Solomon looked at him.

"Thank you," Solomon told Asmo as he stood up.

Asmo smiled and walked over and handed the jars to Solomon.

Solomon took them and then walked over to the stove to start preparing the tea.

Hoshiko turned in their seat to watch him, hoping to learn something as well as enjoying watching Solomon work.

Asmo stood next to Hoshiko and wrapped an arm around them.

Hoshiko leaned on Asmo while they watched Solomon.

Asmo smiled slightly and leaned down to kiss the top of Hoshiko's head.

Solomon spoke incantations over the tea as he brewed it.

"I need a tea cup," Solomon announced once he was nearly finished with the tea.

Asmo moved to grab him a cup from the cabinet and set it down on the counter near him.

"Thank you," Solomon told him before slowly pouring the tea into the cup and speaking one last incantation as he did so.

"Is it done?" Hoshiko asked.

"Yes," Solomon replied as he handed the cup to them.

Hoshiko took it carefully. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Inhale the aroma until it's cool enough to sip," Solomon instructed.

Hoshiko nodded and did as he said, then made a disgusted face. "Why does it have to smell like feet?"

Solomon chuckled. "That's the valerian root."

"Yeah, I know. But you couldn't have made it smell better with magic or something?"

Solomon shook his head. "Not without altering the spell."

Hoshiko sighed and blew on the tea gently before sipping it. "It doesn't taste great..." They commented.

"It's not supposed to, its supposed to put you to sleep," Solomon reminded them.

Hoshiko sighed. "Yeah, yeah..." They continued to sip the tea until it was all gone. They yawned almost as soon as they had finished the last drop.

"Are you tired already?" Asmo asked Hoshiko when he saw them yawn.

"I mean, I was already tired," Hoshiko reminded him.

"Oh, right."

"Though I do feel like I need to lay down before I pass out."

Solomon nodded. "Let's get you to bed then."

Hoshiko nodded and stood up, a little unsteady as they did so.

Asmo moved quickly, ready to catch them. "Are you alright?"

Hoshiko smiled slightly. "Yeah, just drowsy."

Asmo nodded. "I'll escort you to your room then."

Hoshiko grabbed his hand. "Thank you."

Asmo smiled. "Of course, my love."

Hoshiko and Asmo walked back to Hoshiko's room and Solomon followed close behind them.

Hoshiko crawled into bed and laid down once they had reached their room.

Asmo pulled the covers over them and tucked them in and kissed their forehead.

Hoshiko smiled up at him. "You're so good to me."

Asmo smiled back and stroked their hair. "I love you, I only want to be good to you."

Hoshiko hummed and looked at Solomon. "You're good to me too, I appreciate you."

Solomon smiled slightly. "Go to sleep."

Hoshiko hummed and closed their eyes just before drifting off to sleep.

Asmo kissed the top of their head again before walking over to Solomon.

Solomon just watched Hoshiko. "I want to see if they stay asleep," he whispered to Asmo.

Asmo nodded. "How long should we wait?"

"They seem to wake up again within five minutes, so if we can get past that I think we're in the clear."

Asmo nodded again and leaned on Solomon. "Do you think Hoshiko will be okay?" He asked quietly.

"I don't think any amount of sleep will totally cure Hoshiko from the influence of the eight circles, if that's what you're asking," Solomon replied as he kept his eyes on Hoshiko. "But I think being well rested could help them think more clearly."

Asmo hummed and watched Hoshiko as well.

Hoshiko appeared to sleep peacefully for the next six minutes.

Asmo looked at his phone to check the time. "I think they're going to stay asleep."

"I think you're right," Solomon agreed.

"Let's go," Asmo suggested before leaving the room.

Solomon followed him out and closed the door behind him.

They both went back to the dining room.

Levi had made his way in there and had managed to get some food before Beel had eaten it all.

The brothers all looked at Asmo and Solomon.

"Where is Hoshiko?" Lucifer asked.

"Asleep," Asmo announced, proudly.

"Really? Like, actually asleep?" Satan asked.

"We watched them for a few minutes to make sure they stayed asleep, so I think so," Asmo explained as he sat back down in his seat.

"How'd ya get them to go to sleep?" Mammon asked.

"A tea spell," Solomon explained as he sat down next to Asmo.

"Tea?" Lucifer asked skeptically.

"Tea spell," Solomon corrected him. "It seems to have worked, so I can't ask for much more than that."

Lucifer hummed. "I suppose you're right, as long as it works."

Levi looked at the rest of his food and sighed. "Beel, you want the rest of-?"

"Yes," he answered and grabbed Levi's plate before he could even finish asking the question.

"Was there something wrong with breakfast?" Lucifer asked Levi.

"It was fine, I'm not just not hungry. My stomach doesn't feel too great."

"Hm, perhaps if you didn't stay up so late playing video games," Lucifer quipped.

Levi rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

Lucifer sighed then looked at Asmo. "Will you clean up the kitchen please?"

"But I just got my nails done!" Asmo whined.

"Then get Solomon to help you," he suggested.

"Do you always make your guests do chores?" Solomon asked teasingly.

"I hardly consider you a guest at this point," Lucifer told him snidely.

"So I'm like family?" Solomon grinned teasingly.

Lucifer just stared at Solomon for a moment then looked at Mammon. "Go clean the kitchen."

"What? Why me?!" Mammon protested.

"Because I said so, now go," he commanded absolutely.

Mammon groaned and rolled his eyes as he stood up.

Solomon and Asmo snickered quietly with each other.

"Oh shaddup!" Mammon snapped at them before grabbing his and Lucifer's plates and walking into the kitchen.

Asmo suddenly frowned and looked at Levi, who had started playing a game on his phone. "Hey Levi."

"Huh?" He barely responded, not taking his eyes off his phone.

"Were you feeling sick before or after you ate?"

"Uh, after I guess."

Asmo looked at Lucifer. "Are you sure you cooked everything all the way through? I'm not feeling so hot now either."

Lucifer frowned; he didn't like that his brothers weren't feeling well but he also didn't appreciate the accusation of not being able to cook properly. "I'm certain I cooked everything throughly," though as soon as he said that he started to feel uneasy too.

Satan started to feel bad at the exact same time that Lucifer did and he could tell by the look on Lucifer's face.

"Are we all feeling ill now?" Satan asked.

"Yes," Beel responded with a sort of whine.

Solomon frowned. "I feel fine."

"Of course you do," Asmo muttered.

"What does that mean?"

"You passed your constitution check," Levi half joked.

Solomon chuckled. "Alright."

Then Belphie walked into the dining room, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Hey..." he yawned. "What's wrong?"

Everyone looked at him.

"What do you mean?" Lucifer asked him.

"I woke up because I felt anxious. Are you upsetting Beel?" He half-heartedly glared at the whole table.

"Wait..." Lucifer started, suddenly realizing what was actually going on.

"Are we all just anxious?" Satan asked, as he realized what Lucifer realized.

"Mammon, are you anxious?!" Levi yelled into the kitchen.

Mammon walked back into the dining room. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Weren't we all anxious together like this when Hoshiko was..." Asmo trailed off, looking between his brothers for confirmation.

Lucifer was the first one out of his chair and on the way to Hoshiko's room once he understood what Asmo was hinting at.

The rest of the brothers and Solomon followed him.

Lucifer opened the door quietly just in case Hoshiko was still asleep in their room.

When he looked inside, he could see that Hoshiko was still asleep in their bed.

Solomon looked inside the room. "Exactly as we left them."

"So why do we all feel anxious?" Asmo asked.

"I really couldn't tell you, this is strange," Solomon replied.

Everyone suddenly became alert when they heard Hoshiko whimper from where they laid on the bed.

"Hoshiko?" Lucifer called gently as he walked over to the bed.

Hoshiko was still asleep, but their face was twisted as if they were in pain.

Lucifer frowned. "I think they're still having the nightmares." He looked at Solomon.

Solomon frowned. "I see. I guess the spell could only keep them asleep, not protect them from the nightmares."

Lucifer nodded. "I'll wake them up."

"That's probably for the best," Solomon told him.

Lucifer leaned over Hoshiko so that he could place his fingers on either of their temples. "I, Lucifer, Avatar of Pride, release Hoshiko from this spell of sleep."

No sooner did he finish speaking than did Hoshiko's eyes snap open.

As soon as Hoshiko laid their eyes on Lucifer they scrambled away from him, retreating to the other end of their bed and curling into the fetal position to try and protect themself.

"Please... no more..." They sobbed.

Lucifer frowned and his shoulders fell; he hated that Hoshiko thought that he would ever hurt them. "Hoshiko, that wasn't me. You were having a nightmare."

It was as though Hoshiko didn't even hear him.

Solomon walked over and sat down on the bed, making sure to position himself between Lucifer and Hoshiko.

"Hoshiko, it's Solomon."

Hoshiko glanced at him.

"You're in your room in the House of Lamentation. You're not in the eight circles anymore, you're safe," he spoke softly, but with certainty.

Hoshiko sniffed and slowly moved their arms away from their face, revealing the tears staining their cheeks.

Solomon offered a comforting smile.

Hoshiko fell into his chest, pressing their face against it and clinging to his shirt. "Please don't do that to me again... don't make me sleep..." They begged through their tears.

Solomon wrapped his arms around Hoshiko and rubbed their back with one hand. "I won't do that again, I promise."

Hoshiko breathed a sigh of relief and slowly relaxed against Solomon.

Solomon looked over at the door where the rest of the Demon brothers stood and purposefully locked eyes with Asmo.

Asmo nodded then shooed his brothers away. "Come on, let's give Hoshiko a moment."

Lucifer watched Solomon and Hoshiko for a moment more before leaving the room with his brothers.

Hoshiko seemed to know exactly when Lucifer left and visibly relaxed even more once he did.

Solomon noticed their reaction and looked down at them. "Are you alright?"

"I will be," Hoshiko told him, having finally calmed down.

"Did Lucifer do something to you?" Solomon asked quietly.

Hoshiko tensed up. "... why do you ask?"

"You seem especially... reprehensive to his presence."

Hoshiko pulled away from Solomon. "I don't want to talk about this."

Solomon sighed quietly. "Okay."

Hoshiko stood up. "I'm hungry."

"Do you want me to make you something?" Solomon offered.

"Uh, no thanks. I just want to busy myself, so I'll cook."

Solomon nodded. "I understand."

Hoshiko headed to the kitchen where they found Mammon and Lucifer talking.

"Hey, am I interrupting?" Hoshiko asked.

Both Lucifer and Mammon looked at them.

"Not at all," Lucifer insisted before Mammon could say anything. "Do you need something?"

"I need food."

"Oh, Beel finished off all the breakfast from earlier."

Hoshiko shook their head with a grin. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"I'll cook something for you," Lucifer offered.

"No its fine, I'll do it," Hoshiko told him as they pulled some ingredients out of the cabinet.

Lucifer took them from Hoshiko and set them on the counter. "Just tell me what you want, I'll make it."

"I don't need you to make it," Hoshiko insisted as they pulled some eggs out of the refrigerator and set them on the counter.

"I know you don't need me to, I want to," Lucifer explained as he grabbed a clean skillet and set it on the stove top.

Hoshiko groaned. "I want to do it." They grabbed a cutting board and knife.

"Hoshiko, let me do something for you," Lucifer pleaded, though he made sure not to sound desperate.

Hoshiko pursed their lips and just grabbed a devil tomato and started cutting it. Their movements were harsh and with every slice the knife slammed into the board, announcing their frustration to anyone in the vicinity.

"Hoshiko..." Lucifer gently placed his hands over Hoshiko's, hoping to calm them down.

However, that only served to irritate Hoshiko further. They suddenly pointed the knife at Lucifer. "Lucifer, I swear to-" they managed to stop themself before they finished their sentence.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. "Swear to who?"

Hoshiko glared at him for a moment, but slammed the knife down onto the cutting board and stormed out of the room when they felt like they were about to cry.

Mammon quickly followed after them. "Hoshiko!"

Hoshiko ignored him and just walked out the front door of the house.

"Hoshiko, wait!"

"Mammon, stay!" Hoshiko commanded before continuing to walk off.

Mammon groaned and stood in place, helpless to stop Hoshiko from leaving.

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

#and this one was almost too long for Tumblr lol #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me levi #obey me mammon #obey me Asmo #obey me Solomon #obey me mc #my obey me mc #hoshiko higure #obey me fanfic #obey me angst #my work #my writing

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emwritesfootball · 3 years ago

Text

Bir öpücük [One kiss] | Berke Özer and Zeki Çelik

Word Count: 2,931

Warnings: Cheating, Oral Sex (male and female giving/receiving), Age Gap (4-5 Years), Third Person POV

Summary: When She and Berke get in a fight, Zeki is there to comfort Her...

A/N: I asked and nobody answered so you're getting it anyway xx This is my entry for @footballffbarbiex's latest writing challenge for the Forbidden Love category and I wrote this last night because I got inspired. Biiig thank you to @meteora-fc and @sammisze for the proofreading and extra suggestions. Enjoy y'all <3

- - -

“Where have you been?” She sounds like a petulant child - or worse, a concerned parent - and regrets the words the moment they leave her mouth.

Berke shoots her a look, rolling his eyes as he starts to undress. “Out. What business is it of yours?”

“I’m your girlfriend.” Her voice is shrill to her ears and she hates it. “You didn’t think to invite me out?”

“Just wanted a guys night. Is that so wrong?”

“Not at all! I just wish you’d communicate better sometimes.”

“I’m twenty-one - what do you expect?” He mocks, throwing what she usually uses as a teasing excuse when he fucks up in her face.

They haven’t been together long - a little under three months - but things were serious enough for him to bring her with him to Turkey from Belgium with his latest call-up to the U-19 side of the national team. They’d met through mutual friends, and the attraction was immediate. She had been hesitant, though, with their age gap, but Berke had assured her that four years wasn’t that big of an age gap, and their relationship had started from there.

She soon learned that dating a younger man - especially one of Berke’s status - wasn’t all she’d thought it would be. Berke’s rising fame as a skilled keeper, the media likening him to now-manager Şenol Güneş back in his career when he was one of the “Trabzonpor Efsanesi”, quickly took a toll on their relationship. A simple Google search had told her just how prestigious of a title that was, and part of her was surprised that he wanted to date her when he could be out playing the field.

Then, there were the red flags. He preferred to DM her on Instagram or just send her a simple wordless Snapchat; if she wanted to call him or FaceTime, they’d have to plan it so far in advance that Berke would ultimately forget about it. Whenever he was with her, he always seemed to be glued to his phone. She wasn’t completely immune to distractions either, and she’d played on her phone a few times too, but something about when he did it unnerved her.

She mostly brushed it all off, hoping it would all die down once the season was over and the two of them could go on holiday together and get to know each other on a different level. In a way, she’d been looking at this trip to Turkey as a practice holiday, but now she fears they’re about to be over before they even really had a chance to begin.

“I don’t expect much, Berke,” she says, searching for her words. “Hell, I don’t even care where you went tonight - I just would have preferred to know if you were gonna be out late so I could’ve gone to bed hours ago.”

“So I forgot to text you? So what?! I wasn’t aware I was dating my mother.” The way he says the word has her reeling. They haven’t shared too many intimate, deep stories, but she knows that Berke is well-aware of the fact that she hates being compared to anyone’s mother and that she’s insecure enough about their age gap as it is.

“Well, I wasn’t aware I was dating a child, so I guess we’re even,” she sneers, barely concealing her tears as she exits the hotel room she and Berke are sharing and makes a beeline for the hotel bar.

She takes a seat at the bar, relaxing a bit when her quick scan of the patrons tells her that nobody else she’d know is there. Her Turkish isn’t great - Berke had promised to translate - but ‘shots’ and ‘another’ seem to be universal, and after downing a few shots, she switches to a double Scotch on the rocks. As she drinks, she replays the last few hours in her mind. She knows she let her insecurities get the better of her and she regrets it; she also wants to apologize but it’s late and she figures Berke either left the room or is asleep and she doesn’t really feel like going back up to the room and finding out which one it is.

“You okay?” Zeki Çelik’s voice brings her out of her thoughts.

“Huh?” She turns to face him, confused.

“You let out a sigh… I assume something is wrong?”

“Oh.” She laughs awkwardly, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t realize I’d done that.” She gives him a small smile, gesturing to the empty barstool beside her. “You can sit if you want.”

Zeki returns her smile, taking the seat she offers. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She drains her Scotch, signaling to the bartender who appears. Zeki puts in for two club sodas, and even though she throws him a glare, she doesn’t correct him as she starts, “Not really. Berke and I had a fight.”

“Oh.” Zeki nods sagely and she can tell he wants to ask more but he doesn’t.

The two of them sit in silence for a few long moments before she finally caves. “It was a long time coming, I think. We didn’t break up, obviously, but we definitely said things that were both on our minds.”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Zeki says, taking a sip of his club soda when it arrives.

“It’s okay,” you reply, waving off the sentiment with your hand. You’re tipsy now and you want to talk about it. “He compared me to his mother and I called him a child.” You let out a derisive laugh, shaking your head. “It was ridiculous.”

“Why?”

“This is exactly what I worried was going to happen when the two of us started dating but Berke swore our age difference wasn’t a big deal to him…”

She trails off and Zeki finds himself studying her intently. “You’re older?”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed, nodding. “Almost five years, actually. I’m 25.”

“Wow - I just assumed you were younger.”

She giggles, shaking her head. “No. I think I just need to learn from this. I just need a smaller age gap - or just stick to older guys.”

“You just need to find a younger guy who appreciates you,” Zeki says softly, making her pause. The way he’s looking at her isn’t like anything she’s ever seen on Berke’s face, and against her better judgment, her heart starts to beat a little faster. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear and her breath hitches.

“Zeki-”

“I know,” he replies, looking away. “We can’t. You’re with Berke.” He runs a hand over his face and down his beard - an action she doesn’t miss - sighing. “I would never do that to a teammate and a friend - no matter how into their girlfriend I was.”

“Wh-what?” She’s stunned, blinking rapidly as she tries to process his words.

“It wasn’t intentional, don’t worry,” Zeki backtracks, chuckling nervously. “I just thought you were beautiful when I first saw you. I didn’t know then that you were Berke’s girl, but in that moment, I fell for you.” He pauses, draining his club soda. “Anyway, I’ll leave you alone now, but I sincerely hope you and Berke work it out.”

He gets up to leave and she puts a hand on his forearm, looking up at him. “Stay. Please? You can tell me I’m beautiful some more if you’d like,” she jokes, relieved when he laughs and sits back down.

Something tells her they’ve both crossed a line, but it feels good to just sit and talk with an attractive man who thinks she’s beautiful, not giving Berke a second thought as she laughs with Zeki.

When she yawns and Zeki follows seconds later, they both know it’s time to turn in; they’ve drunk their fill of club sodas and her mini-hangover from the shots and Scotch is getting the better of her. Zeki wraps an arm around her shoulder, steadying her as she stands, and she can’t help leaning into his touch, sighing contentedly. He’s not as tall as Berke, but she doesn’t miss how good it feels to have him rest his chin on top of her head as they wait for the lift back to their respective floors.

Their ride is quiet yet comfortable, but she gets confused when the lift stops on his floor first but Zeki makes no move to get off. “I’ll walk you to your door,” he says nonchalantly, and she hates the way her heartbeat picks up at the basic chivalry he’s just displayed.

“Thank you,” she whispers, looking up at him. She’s still tucked into his side and the knowledge that she’s going to be leaving his warmth in a matter of minutes has her feeling a sense of loss she didn’t know she was capable of feeling.

The lift door opens on her floor, and suddenly she doesn’t want to get off. Zeki waits patiently, watching her attentively as the doors close and she moves to press the number for his floor again. “The problem is,” she starts as the lift begins to descend again, “is that I don’t want to go to my room right now.”

Zeki swallows hard at the innuendo, his grip around her waist tightening almost imperceptibly. “Balım, if I let you come to my room, we won’t be sleeping.” Honey.

The doors open again and she walks out with Zeki, weighing her options. She knows that she shouldn’t, but Zeki feels so good and she doesn’t want to go back to her room with an angry Berke. “One kiss,” she says when they stop in front of Zeki’s hotel room. She’s almost certain this kiss will erase her attraction to him and she can go back to the bar and drown her sorrows before she actually goes to bed.

“One kiss,” Zeki murmurs, stepping closer so she’s pinned between him and the wall. His eyes are dark with lust and she swallows hard as she looks up at him, her tongue peeking out to wet her bottom lip, making Zeki moan.

Slowly, as if in a dream, she places a hand on his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat underneath her palm. Her other hand winds around the back of his neck, her fingers threading in his hair. Zeki’s hands are on her waist, his touch burning through her clothes and searing her skin.

The moment his lips touch hers, she’s gone. Zeki kisses her like he’s kissed her a thousand times, with just the right amount of pressure and neediness that leaves her wanting more. When he breaks the kiss, they’re both breathing heavily, but she needs more. Her eyes search his and without another word, she stands on her tiptoes and drags him back down for another kiss.

She doesn’t know how he kisses her while fumbling for his key card, but Zeki never breaks the kiss even as he opens the door and leads her inside his hotel room. He turns on a light and she uses the opportunity to take off her shirt, giving him a wicked grin when he does a double take at her in her bra. “Fuck!” He curses in Turkish, taking her back in his arms as his hands slide up her back to unclasp the bra. “Çok güzelsin,” he murmurs before kissing her again. You’re so beautiful.

Her bra falls to the floor and Zeki is quick to palm her breasts, pressing kisses to the tops of each of them before taking each of her nipples in his mouth. She cries out, arching her back as her fingers find his hair. His scruff scrapes across her sensitive skin and she knows she’s probably going to have beard burn in the morning but she doesn’t care.

Zeki leads her over to the bed, watching as she falls backward and reaches for him, pulling him down on top of her with ease. It’s her turn to undress him, her moans of approval sounding as she runs her hands down his muscled torso. He can’t think straight when she reaches for the button on his jeans and he’s quickly pulling them off his body so he can do the same to her.

“Zeki!” She whimpers when he hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties and tugs them down, the cool air hitting her pussy as he spreads her legs and kneels between them.

“Be good for me, Balım, and I’ll make sure you get to cum,” he murmurs, kissing his way up her inner thighs. The sensation of his beard brushing over the skin of her inner thighs goes straight to her clit and she knows she’s already dripping wet for him.

She loses it when he finally puts his mouth on her pussy. He looks up at her from between her legs as he sucks her clit and she almost cums from that alone. Zeki continues to speak Turkish to her as he eats her out, loving the way she comes undone from his words alone. He can feel his cock throbbing and he knows he won’t last long inside her, but he focuses on giving her a mindblowing first orgasm.

When Zeki commands her to cum for him, her body’s response is immediate. Her inner walls clench around the two fingers he inserted inside her, her fingers fisting the bedsheets as she writhes under his touch. He kisses her hard, drawing out her orgasm by curling his fingers inside her, and she can taste herself on his lips.

“My turn,” she says wickedly, dropping to her knees to play with his cock. He’s already leaking precum and she wraps a hand around his shaft, giving him a few pumps before she puts her mouth on him.

Zeki lets loose a string of Turkish when she takes him as far down her throat as she can, gagging on his length. His fingers find her hair and he tugs, pulling her mouth off his dick before he can cum. “I’ll cum down your throat later,” he growls, his heavily-accented English sending a thrill down her spine. “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

She doesn’t protest when he bends her over the bed, taking her from behind. He fucks her roughly, pulling her hair to make her arch her back so he can hit her pussy from an angle that makes her eyes roll back. “Zeki, please!” She begs, her face pressed into the mattress.

His deft fingers find her clit and it isn’t long after that she’s cumming around his cock, milking his orgasm. She can feel his cum coat the inside of her pussy and she knows he’ll be dripping out of her when he pulls out, a thought that turns her on.

The moment Zeki pulls out of her, he goes to get cleaned up. He brings her a warm washcloth and proceeds to carefully clean her up, making sure to run the rough fabric over her clit a few times so he can watch her pussy spasm around nothing. “Such a good girl for me,” he praises, trailing kisses down her back.

“It wasn’t hard,” she counters, giving him a cheesy grin as he settles in bed and motions for her to join him. She falls asleep in his arms, sated and content.

It isn’t until the morning when she wakes up and fully realizes the ramifications of what she’s done.

***

Waking up in Zeki’s arms feels like a dream, and she’s almost sure she’s dreaming until he shifts and stretches, giving her a small smile. “Günaydın,” he says, his voice rough with sleep. Good morning. “How did you sleep?”

She doesn’t answer him, instead moving to throw back the covers and find her clothes. “Shit!” She curses, running a hand through her hair. “I’m a mess; I should shower before I get back, right? God, fuck, Berke’s gonna know something’s up.”

“Look at me, Balım,” Zeki says soothingly, getting up from the bed and coming to rest his hands on her shoulders.”It’s gonna be okay - we’ll figure this out.”

“I can’t believe I cheated on him,” she whispers, covering her mouth with her hand as she tries to keep tears at bay. “I...I was mad at him - I never thought I’d do something this awful.”

“I know, I know you didn’t mean it,” he says, pulling her into his arms against his better judgment. The regret in her voice makes him feel hollow, but he doesn’t dare put his own feelings on her in this moment. After all, it isn’t fair for him to have slept with his teammate’s girlfriend, regardless of how he’s felt about her this last week. “Don’t worry. This was just a one-time thing and I promise I won’t tell him unless you decide to.”

“You won’t?” The relief on her face as she looks up at him makes him want to die, but Zeki nods.

“I won’t. Now, let’s figure out what to do. Why don’t you shower here and then we’ll figure out what to do next, okay?”

***

Zeki watches, heartbroken, as she goes back to Berke like nothing happened. Logically, he knew that the two of them wouldn’t have lasted even if she’d dumped Berke for him, but it still hurts. He knows this is for the best, that lying to Berke was the only way to keep the team together (or, at least, that’s what he’s telling himself), but he can’t help wishing he was the one on her arm instead.

#em's writing challenge entries

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wrestlingbabe · 5 years ago

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Angels and Demons

Finn/Demon- A fallen Angel must find their purpose to become an angel once more, but what if they already had a purpose...and what if it included a demon.

Warnings: Fluff/Angst and thats it.

This was for @hardcorewwetrash Supernatural Writing challenge, which I picked number 9 “You can stay, but no longer than two nights. Word Count- 3.4K

I hope y'all enjoy it. It has been a while.

It had been a few months since you arrived on earth. You don’t remember much about how you got here except for a searing heat that you had never felt before. You vision went blurry before that heat hit your wings and your body felt like as if it shut off. When you finally awoke, you were in a city, dazed by the lights, rain and fast moving traffic. Your hands immediately went to your back before you let out a soft cry. They were gone. What allowed you to be an angel were gone, or so you thought. This is when he became involved.

*2 months earlier* You looked up at the bright lights of the city before walking out of the back alley you had landed in, “What am I to do?” The words a mere whisper as you felt your chest tighten. That is when you heard it, another voice, but not of an angel, oh no something different, worse, “A demon.” You hissed as you turned to look for it. Your eyes darted through the crowd as you tried to look for the knowing red glow, signaling just where they were.

A man in a black suit stood at a bus stop across the street, the red glow orbiting around him. You tilted you head and thought for a moment. If you were still an angel he would see the soft gold glow that you gave off, but if not, that answered your question. Were you still an angel or not?

You quickly crossed the street as the bus pulled up. You got on right behind him, glancing at where he was sitting. Before you could go any further, the bus driver stopped you, “Do you have a pass?” You looked at them confused, “Any cash on you?” You looked around knowing little about human currency but why would you have any. You felt that panic feeling in your chest and as you turned around to get off the bus, the man swiped his card over the machine, “I have them.”

His deep voice captivating you in a way that you couldn’t describe, “Stop!” You told yourself as you knew demons could tempt any angel. You looked up at him and thanked him before sitting across from him. You wanted your eyes on him just in case. He hadn’t given you a second glance yet and you began to worry, “This says it all. I’m done.” You let out a small sigh as one of the last people on the bus left. You glanced around to see only you and him on the bus. As your eyes did a quick sweep over him, you noticed he was looking.

“Is there something I can help you with?” His glow becoming darker, making you curious.

“It’s a darker red. What does that mean?” You whispered as you leaned forward some. You had always heard that if an angel and demon touched, one would be burned. You wanted to see if it was true as you slowly stuck your hand out.

The man gave you a puzzled look as he squinted his eyes and moved further into the seat, “I don’t think that is a smart idea.” You moved your hand back and looked at him with wide eyes. He looked over you before creasing his eyebrows together, “How do you see my glow?” He moved up in his seat, inspecting you.

“I’m an angel.” You said with only a slight bit of hope. His slight frown said other wise, “Oh no! You don’t see any glow? Not even a slight bit of gold-” Your words were cut off as he lean forward and placed a hand on your knee. You couldn’t hold it in and a small cry fell from your lips, “no.”

The man looked up and saw that the bus was coming to a stop, “You can stay with me, but no longer than two nights.”

You looked up at him as a few tears streamed down your cheek, “What is your name?” You sniffed as you realized you didn’t remember your own name.

The man stuck out his hand towards you before you cautiously took it, “My name is Finn and please don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

Your eyes widened as the thought of him hurting you raced into your head. You went into this with open arms, but you didn’t have a choice. You were to either sleep outside on the streets or take a demon’s kind gesture.

You both exited the bus and walked into a small building. He motioned to the stairs as you slowly trekked behind him. The only sound was the light breathing from both of you. As you got to the top, there was a single door, “It’s small and cozy but there is a bedroom for you.” He said as he looked at your wet clothes, “I think I might have a shirt and pants you can borrow.”

You softly said thank you as he held the door open for you. You felt that panicked feeling again as you saw symbols on the wall, “What do they mean?” You backed up a little only to run into him.

“Protection.” He mumbled as he step beside you.

His words confused you as you went up to one and slowly traced it, part of it smearing off. That burning feeling that you had felt was back as you fell to your knees, “AH!” You clutched your hand as you scurried away from the symbol.

Finn came rushing in, “Which one did you touch?” You were in too much of a state to say anything. You felt that. You felt that heat that you had felt when you fell. He wasn’t telling you something.

“Is there a glow?” Your voice loud as tears started to brim your eyes, “Am I still an angel?” Your voice soft as you slowly got to your feet.

Finn looked down at the ground before slowly looking at you, “You have a very soft glow but only in your hands. I felt a slight sting when I offered my hand to your earlier but when I placed my hand on your knee, I felt nothing. I don’t know the answer to your question.” Silence filled the room as you thought of everything you had ever learned. Was it actually possible to still have some angel in you?

“What are the symbols?” You asked as you sat on the ground, looking over your hands. You couldn’t see the glow and soon your eyes became tired, “What are you doing here?” Was the last thing you could make out before your eyes went heavy and you fell back against the floor.

Finn smiled as he looked at you as you quietly fell asleep. He saw the glow but couldn’t figure it out, “Did they finally come back?” Finn asked himself as he brought a pillow out from a room and threw a blanket over you.

As you awoke, you slowly took in your surroundings. This was the building from last night. You were in Finn’s place, but where was he. That man was quiet and seemed to keep to himself but you wanted to explore. You got up and quietly walked around his place. You studied the symbols, making sure not to touch any. Today you wanted to know more about him, seeing you only had a day or two with him. You walked over to the sliding doors and barely opened them, just enough to peek through. There was the man from last night laying in his bed. His chest bare but covered in old scars. You let out a gasp as you saw a scar that you had seen before. You lifted up your shirt and traced a scar identical to his, the angel scar. At this time you couldn’t help yourself. You knocked on the door loudly before walking in, “You were an angel? When and how did you become a demon? Why did you become a demon of all things?”

The man groaned as he placed a pillow over his head, “Too early.” He grumbled as you paced the room, trying to put things together.

“Please! I have to know, can you help me?” You felt something, something different. A different kind of heat, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. You placed your hand over your heart and took a deep breath.

“You feel it too?” Finn’s words making you look up at him. Before you could say anything, he lifted his finger at you to stop you, “We all have a purpose. Angels and demon alike. When I was an angel, I was asked to do something I didn’t want to do. I didn’t want to hurt the person that I loved. I don’t remember much except for a burning heat incasing my whole body and then I woke up here.” He looked down at his hands and let out a sigh. Finn knew he was lying but didn’t want to scare you. He thought of a quick lie to tell, “Though that feeling of being more superior was something I craved. I had heard about some demons who would take me in only if I swore to never allow that gold glow to take over me again.” At this time you had sat down on the edge of his bed, yearning to know more, “My gold is gone now. I always thought it would stay but that isn’t true. It is either red, gold or gone. You’re here for a purpose, I’m sure. Finn glanced over you before moving closer to you, “What do you think your purpose is?”

You looked into his eyes and saw a hint of red, “I don’t know, but I know I want to be this.” You raised you hand to see a small shimmer of gold, “It’s all I have.”

Finn shook his head, “I don’t know why I want to say this but it’s not all you have, you have me too.” He gave you a small smirk, “I’ll help you, but know, that that is not what I want. I enjoy my life now.”

“Then what is the protection symbols for?” You tilted your head as you got up and walked out to the living area. You started to study them again and forgot about the other creature in the room.

“To keep away demons and angels.” His voice was soft as he walked over to the symbol you smeared yesterday, “That one was fresh. It’s to keep angels away, but as you see, it is now open, which I assume is why you’re still capable of being here, or it is the fact that you’re not strong enough.” His words also had you wondering.

“What do you think my purpose is?” You followed him into the kitchen as he turned on the coffee maker. The sound of the coffee being made filled the apartment, “Maybe it’s you.”

Finn gave you a quick glance before grabbing a mug, “Maybe.” He muttered.

You slowly rubbed your hands together, as if the glow would spread to the other one, “What if they realized they made a mistake?” You glanced up at him through your lashes and hoped he wouldn’t become mad, “What if they want you to come back?” As the words left your mouth, his glow became a more bright red and you knew you might of went too far.

“No!” His voice booming around the apartment, “They didn’t make a mistake. They never make mistakes.” He turned to you to see you off of the stool and in a fighting position, “Oh no! Oh no! I’m not going to hurt you! I promise..I just. It isn’t for me anymore and soon you’ll see you will have make a decision. Return to an angel or stay here.” You let your guard down slowly as he kept talking, “If you stay here, you don’t have to become a demon. Don’t think that you have to be something other than you.” He gave you a small smile before turning back around, “I know that decision won’t be hard for you seeing you’re glowing more.”

You gasped as you ran to the closest mirror. He was right, your glow was stronger, but it wouldn’t matter if you didn’t have wings. You reached back and as felt the empty space, a small sigh fell from your lips.

You saw Finn walked into the view of the mirror, “They can grow back if you fulfill your purpose, but you have to figure out what it was.” You nodded at him as you walked into the bedroom that had clothes on the bed.

“Can I take a shower?” You asked as you scooped up the clothes. Finn nodded his head as you walked into the bathroom.

Finn let out a sad sigh as he sat on one of the stools, “I won’t make them stay. If they remember then they remember but I won’t force anything upon them. There is no purpose for them and that will be the hardest for them.” He rested his head in his hands.

As the water heated up, you let it run over your sore back as you thought everything over, “Think! What is my purpose? Why would I be here? Was running into him a coincidence or was it part of it?” As you reached behind you to turn off the water, you heard something. A voice, but not Finn’s, this one sounded familiar. You wrapped your towel around you as you barely poked your head out of the bathroom door.

“Where are they?” The voice spoke with a condescending attitude.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean.” You knew that voice, Finn’s powerful voice was echoing in the building.

“Don’t play stupid with me demon! The angel. Where are they? I know they are here. I followed them.” Your head cocked to the side as you tried to match a face to the voice. You poked your head out more to see Finn still in the kitchen and an angel with their wings wide. You felt a feeling in your stomach, was it pity, jealousy, anger, you weren’t sure but you wanted to know more of what was happening. You slowly stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. Your eyes glanced over to the symbol that you had opened and quietly cursed to yourself. You had let this angel in and now if needed, you were going to take them out. A small can of paint sat underneath the symbol if needed.

“Why would I keep an angel here?” Finn said as he walked more into your view. He must of felt something because he glanced over into the area you were at and caught eye contact with you. You felt that burn from earlier when his eyes hit yours.

“You know damn well why. They fell for you when they were doing what was needed for their purpose. They wouldn’t back down after we told them to leave you. Soul mates aren’t real in our world but they kept spewing that worthlessness at us. So now we have a banned angel with a burned out demon. A demon who is keeping them HERE!”

Your scurried back further into the room as everything hit you at once. You had a purpose before all of this and instead fell for Finn, a demon of all things. You felt your head get heavy as you glanced down at the once gold glow becoming slightly red, “Wait! What did I do?” The tears were streaming down your face. You didn’t remember anything about Finn and now an angel was here to make sure that you didn’t even exist. You felt the room become tighter as the room became bright with a gold light, “No!” You knew that light, the angel was ready to fight. You scurried to your feet as you dashed out of the room.

“NO!” You heard Finn yell as you grabbed the paint brush. You glanced at the angel with a smirk as you ran the brush over the smeared paint. A loud wind filled the room as the angel’s wings brushed, trying to escape. All you heard though was ringing in your ears, you felt that burn again, this time more powerful than before. You watched as the gold glow slowly crept away. This was it and you knew it, but you were willing to do it for him. As the last bit of gold dimmed away, you fell backwards with a thud.

“I won’t leave him!” You shook your head as you awoke. You felt like your were in a dream. There you were in front of yourself yelling at a group of angels. You were hidden in the back watching as you told the angels of what had become of you and this angel you could not see. Your eyes widened as you saw your wings again. You felt the tears well up before you gasped in horror as you saw what was kneeling beside you, “Finn!” You whispered to yourself. Finn was here and was an angel. You heart sunk as you realize what happened and that he lied to keep you safe. You went to lunge forward but you couldn’t move, you could only watch what angel you did.

“This was not your purpose. Angels have their own purpose, each other is not it!” An older angel stood in front of you. You took that same stance you took earlier towards Finn, “What is your purpose?” The angel crouched in front of Finn.

Finn glanced up at the angel you before back at the older angel, “My purpose is right there. My everything.” The older angel swung his arm back before connecting his hand across Finn’s face. Both you and the angel you snarled as the older angel looked back at the group.

“I know what we are to do.” He beckoned something or someone and soon the room went quiet. You looked up to see something swiftly flying in, you gasped as you started to remember just what happened.

“Oh Finn.” You couldn’t watch. You knew what was to happen. Finn never arrived on earth as an angel, no, he arrived as a demon.

“You called.” The tall dark creature hissed at the older angel.

“He will make a great demon don’t you think?” He directed his question directly at you, looking past the angel you. Just as you went to speak, you heard Finn’s cries.

Your eyes shot open as you jerked awake from the dream, “FINN!” You cried out before seeing him kneeling beside you, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t remember and I couldn’t stop them-“ Finn stopped you by pulling you into his chest.

“Shh. It is alright.” You let our a small sob as he sat down more, “I knew at some point of time, you would be here. I hoped it wouldn’t happen because you fit so perfect there, but it did. They never sent you here for a purpose because you had already found yours.” Finn pulled back to look you in the eyes, “I’m sure you don’t remember but it was you who banished yourself. That angel was here to make sure there was no angel left in you, but you had some.”

You didn’t feel any shock anymore, you totally believed it. You glanced down and noticed your red glow, “Oh no.” You fell quiet for a second, “Am I a demon now?”

Finn shook his head, “No you just have the protection of one, so you have that glow. Unfortunately when you closed that symbol, it took all your angel from you. I’m sorry.”

You head hung low for a few moments, “That is okay. If they didn’t realize that my purpose was you, then I have to realize that my purpose isn’t them.”

“Our purpose was each other.” You smiled at Finn before slowly standing up, “I’m going to have to stay a few more days to make this a home.”

*Present* Finn pulled you closer as you two laid in bed. You had recently become interested in astronomy and had painted the ceiling with constellations, “This is exactly what I envisioned our future to look like, well maybe with wings kind of being in the way of cuddling.”

Finn chuckled at your statement and kissed your forehead. He looked up at the bottom of the painting and smiled at the words written, “Our purpose.” You glanced up at him with a smile before looking around you. You couldn’t see the red glow anymore being that you have no angel in your, but you knew that it burned brighter than ever before.

#supernaturalsummerchallange #wwe #wwe fluff #wwe angst #finn balor #demon king #finn balor fluff #finn balor angst

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thebrandings · 6 years ago

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The Oliver one just 💔 why are y'all so angsty? Anyway Ros reactions to a mc in the middle of a discussion saying "i wish i had never met you? Deep in a relationship 😘

Hello! I like the way you think, my friend. I’m glad you enjoyed the other angsty ask and I hope you enjoy this one, as well.

Thank you for the ask! 😘

Lily/Ollie/Oliver (She/They/Him) Oliver stares at them, immediately becoming silent as if they had just slapped him in the face. Hurt and doubt flash on his face as his mouth opens and closes, unsure what to say. “W-what.” He stutters, his eyes beginning to gloss over with forced held in tears. He hastily shook his head, stepping back and turning away from them. “N-no, we just need to take some time to think this through.” He says, glances at them with a unknown expression.

"I uh…I’ll just be right back.“ He says though he was already moving towards the door as if trying to escape from you, from the harsh statement. He pauses, glancing at them one more time. “Did you me-” He stops himself short, quickly turning away from them to stare at the door. He tries to wipe his eyes without them knowing but almost immediately after he sniffles. “I guess I’ll see you later.” He hesitates before adding, “I love you, lovey.” He clenches his fist around the knob, opening the door and leaving without another glance towards them.

Once outside the door, Oliver practically slumps against the it. Goodness, did they really mean that? Hastily, he shook his head and headed into his room on the off chance that anyone would see and spot his tears. He tugged at his hair in frustration. If they really did mean that it wasn’t like he could have helped it. They had both been held captive, for goodness sake. No, of course they hadn’t meant that. Obviously they had just said that in the heat of the moment to hurt him. But why didn’t he believe that? Why did his heart ache at the hidden truth beneath those harsh words. After all, if you really love someone shouldn’t you do everything you can not to hurt them.

He gasped at the thought of the MC not loving him. How could have gotten everything he had wanted, dreamed of, only for the MC to realize that they could do better than him. He let the tears flow freely down his cheeks to stunned to do anything but softly sniffle. If that’s the case, why couldn’t they have just told him that they were unhappy. He would have accepted it with a heavy heart, but it would have been better than them wishing that they never met him.

Victoria/Tor/Vick (She/They/Him) Victoria immediately froze, adopting her practiced calm reaction, the exact opposite of what she was feeling right now. She stared at them intensely, unsure of what to say to that, or what they wanted her to say. So she did what she did best and went back into her shell, her polite well-composed unbreakable shell.

"Well, I’m sorry you did.“ She drawled, her tone sounding so clipped and sharp that it appeared to have shocked them. Or was it the reality that they had really said what they did. Either way, she didn’t want to care. She grabs her things before getting up, her composure still perfectly intact as they continue to watch her, not moving themself. “If you’ll excuse me then. I have more important things to attend to.” She says although it was an obvious lie that they both knew, especially given the fact that they had both cleared up their schedules to spend time with each other. Look how well that turned out. She paused at the door, hoping that they would say something, anything.

But they didn’t and Victoria did all she could to keep the disappointment off her face. This was for the best, she told herself. It seemed like they both need to clear their heads, away from each other. But for how long? Victoria frowned, her grip brushing up against the cold knob of the door before attaching to it. “I’ll see you later.” She said softly, although it appeared that they definitely need space away from each other now there was a promise in her voice.

She didn’t wait for their reply before briskly walking out of their room. Almost immediately when she could hear the door click shut, her composure cracked and she covered her mouth with her hand to try to keep the sobs from coming out. They didn’t mean that. In the books, they never mean it, so why did it cause her heart to clench in pain when she knew that.

Christine/Chris/Chris (She/They/Him) Chris pauses at your words, mouth gaped in shock as he just stares at you. Then his eyes narrow and his nose flares. “W-well, me too!” He shouts, angrily turning away from them and hoping, praying that they couldn’t see just how much their words had affected him.

He violently wipes his eyes, his shoulders beginning to shake though whether with anger or sadness he wasn’t sure. He hadn’t meant what he said and he had hoped the MC didn’t either. But then way had they said it. He knew they both had just wanted to hurt each other, but did they mean it? It wasn’t the end though. He knew it but he still frowned, already feeling like it was. What had gone wrong though? Chris immediately shook his head. It was probably his fault but what had he done wrong?

Were they finally fed up with his annoying personality? Or was it his inability to stop talking? He ran through all his qualities through his head. What had it been about him that pushed them to the edge? Maybe it was his habit of eating with his mouth full, he had noticed them frown as he talked but surely that couldn’t be it, could it? He resisted the temptation to look at them, knowing his eyes would beg for forgiveness.

He glanced down at the floor, unable to sort out his thoughts. He hesitated before looking at them with a defeated smile. “I don’t mean that and I don’t think you do either. Or at least I hope you didn’t.” He says while they stare back at him aghast, opening their mouth to speak but he raises his hand, not finished. “But I think we should clear our heads for a moment.” He pauses, enjoying their look of surprise.

"I know and don’t tell Vick I can be mature sometimes. He’d have a field day.“ He says, their faces mirroring a small reassured smile before Chris’s becomes a little dull. "I’ll be back, okay?” He says, before leaving at their nod of agreement. This was definitely not the end, he reassured himself.

Fable (She/They/Him) Fable stares at them intensely, his expression hard and his walls rebuilt as he thinks about what to say. “I wish you never did either.” He lies, his face professionally expressing as pain shoots through his heart. If they never did meet, it would have saved the both of them from a lot of hurt. They frown at Fable’s response, having obviously not expected that but he turns away from them.

Both of them entered a stand still, unsure of whether or how they could fix up this unexpected rift between them. But neither of them said a thing nor glanced at each other. Fable tried so hard to desperately cling to his composure but it all ended when a tear strolled its way down his cheek, soon followed by many more.

"You don’t mean it.“ They say, their voice betraying absolutely nothing. Fable clenches his teeth, his fists tightening at his sides as he struggles not to look at them, to show them his tears that they had single-handledly caused. Heaven only knows the last time he cried.

"Do you?” He asks, keeping his words simple and short so that it doesn’t crack like he knows it would. They stare at him, knowing how he doesn’t deny or answer the question. He hears them sigh but still keep their distance away from him.

"I don’t know.“ They whisper truthfully, sending a dagger straight into Fable’s heart. He grasps at it, trying to ease the imaginary, but powerful pain. It does nothing. Fable cursed himself, sticking true to his words. If they hadn’t met then he wouldn’t be feeling like this.

"I see.” He says, his voice sharp and clipped as he hopelessly tried to keep his composure. He wouldn’t break in front of them. “Well, if that is all?” He said, dramatically bowing his head down as he pushed past them to escape this feeling. They make a move to gently grab his arm at the moment their hand brushes his arm, he yanks his whole body away as if their touch was scalding.

"I must get going.“ He mumbled as he finally made his way to the door. He looks up, immediately catching their sight. He barely held back a gasp; they looked as beautiful as he had first saw them. He gulps. "See you later.” He manages a scatterbrained wave before quickly disappearing behind the door. His body and heart heavy as he continued his way outside. It sure as hell would have saved him some pain.

Aila (She) A calmness envelopes her as she continues to stare at the MC, repeatedly she began to blink. “Pardon me?” She asked, praying that she had heard it all wrong. They frowned, turning away from her. Surely, she had heard it wrong, she thought, but with the way they were acting now only pushed the unhappy thought down her throat and a heavy feeling settled in her chest.

They coughed. “I said-” She quickly raised her hand, their words only beginning to confirm her worse fears. Maybe if she didn’t hear it again, it’d only turn out to be a dream, a terrible nightmare. But she had heard it and she couldn’t do anything to erase it.

"Nevermind. I believe I can fill in the spaces.“ She said, her entire posture somehow still relaxed and calm like the moments just before their sudden declaration. Calm before the storm, she thought, having never been able to relate to it before this heartbreaking moment. She sucked in a deep breath before forcibly demanding herself that she remain stoic, unfeeling of the emotions that wanted to rip her to shreds. It was the only thing keeping her from breaking down.

"I’m sorry you feel that way.” She said slowly, actually managing to rein in her frustration and urge to cry. “Is there anything I can do differently?” She asked her charade still managing to stay calm, desperately hoping for them to say yes. Maybe she wasn’t as attentive as she thought? Maybe she spent to much time trying to appease the elders? Either way, she could change it. She’ll find someone to help her assist in her duties.

But they just shook their head, crumbling all the possibilities in Aila’s head. She felt her stomach drop at their movement, her eyes beginning to gloss over as her control over her emotions slipped through her fingers. “Okay.” She said sniffling, her voice not raising so much as a hushed whisper.

"Let’s talk more about it when I get my emotions under control, okay?“ She said, raising from her seat, their seat before heading towards the door. She’ll try once again when both their emotions weren’t unstable. But they were surprisingly calm too? She thought. Maybe they did mean it. Aila’s heart sunk once again at the thought. She hoped that they didn’t. Aila shuddered, barely able to sort through her thoughts. She would get her emotions under control and then they would talk. This would work out, it would, she reassured. It wasn’t, she believed, wiping a stray tear away.

Hayden (They) Hayden laughs harshly despite the tears that rolled freely down their cheeks as well as their aching heart. He looked at them as if they’d grown a second head but Hayden ignored him. What did this mean for them? Were they through? Their laughing began to cease as the thoughts weighed into their mind.

"Are you serious?” They asked, disbelief and anger lacing their tone. They grip their sword handle as hard as they could. It took everything inside of them to not break down in front of him. What a joke, they thought. For the first time, they had found something worth so much more than their position, training, and assigned tasks. As cliche as it sounds, they had found love, had being the operative word now. No, they still loved him, it was he who apparently didn’t feel the same anymore. But when, why, and how could he fix it?

But he stared at them, a frown expressed on his face. Hayden clenched their jaw, their teeth mashing together. What did he have to be mad about when it was Hayden who felt like their world was turning upside down. “Yes.” He said, the one word final and clipped; the tone suggesting that the words had been really meant.

Hayden narrowed his eyes, but he had said it in the heat of the moment. Surely that was what had happened. If only his actions after the words left his mouth gave Hayden hope, instead they had crushed it, over and over again only to stop when Hayden’s heart laid shredded, torn to pieces.

Hayden exhaled a harsh breath, their heart pumping in pain. They took a deep breath, closing their eyes, unable to look at him any longer. “I just-.” They speak, their words and intent useless as they sat on the tip of his tongue, not able to come out. “I need a moment. Away from you and everything right now.”

#Lily/Ollie/Oliver #Victoria/Tor/Vick #Christine/Chris/Chris #Fable #Aila #Hayden #allROs #thebrandings #angst #aleh-atoria #Olivia/Ollie/Oliver

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aj-the-psycho · 6 years ago

Text

The Hour: Sanders Sides Story - Chapter 12

CUPID FUCKED UP

TW: None

Summary: Roman is angry; Virgil is angry; Remy and Logan are confused and worried.

AO3 Link

Logan have warned Roman numerous times about taking care of himself. He almost never listened. Roman hated going to the supermarket. Usually, he would just buy whatever he needs in an insane quantity, so he doesn’t have to shop again until the next month. Most times, he would forget he bought certain things and whatever it was that he bought would end up unusable at the end of the month. Which was a waste of money!

Now, it’s time for shopping again. Roman hated shopping—unless it was for clothing or anything like that.

It was still early in the morning, it’s quite warm outside and the sky was clear. Perfect. He didn’t have class that day, so he planned on staying in his room until noon to write his theater project. However, after seeing that he had run out of food—not even a grain of coffee was in the kitchen—he had to drag himself out the door. He had to drive there, because he knew he wouldn’t be able to carry all his stuff by hand.

A gust of wind blew on his face as he entered the store. He took out his phone to look at the shopping list that he had lazily put together that morning. Browsing through the aisles mindlessly, he added all the stuff he need into the shopping cart. As he moved from one aisle to another, he saw something that made his brain burn with both anxiety and anger.

----------

They’ve been outside for an hour and a half. Remy was being loud again, but it didn’t matter because the sound of the city drowns his voice—a little bit. He had dragged Virgil to Roast & Grind to buy coffee and then they went to the park. They didn’t do anything there, just strolling around. Virgil was quiet the whole time while his beloved cousin rambled on about nothing.

Somehow, they ended up in a supermarket, buying snacks. Virgil didn’t mind the supermarket. It was nicer than any of the places Remy had brought him to that morning. The Russian boys always find the supermarket a fun place for some reason. They always cause mischief, big enough that they could annoy some people, but small enough of a trouble that they could get away with it. One time, Virgil made Remy put four bags of glitters on the fruits and vegetables section. People were so confused when they saw their fresh produce were glamorous. They were pretty sure that was probably a health hazard.

This time, Remy made Virgil dump two whole bags of candies into the flour in the bulk section of the supermarket. It was funny watching people’s faces when they find candy treasures clumped in their flour. One lady tried to take all the candies out, but it was a sticky situation. She gave up eventually, throwing the scoop into the container in frustration, which made a puff of flour flew onto herself. It made her more furious.

“I’m getting some cereals,” Virgil said, snickering and walked to the cereal aisle. Remy followed him, still laughing at the lady’s misfortune.

Once they were on the cereal aisle they picked their cereals. They didn’t bring enough money with them, so they could only choose one. Virgil preferred Honey Bunches of Oats, while Remy opted the classic Froot Loops. It was one or the other, not both. They debated on who will win—which one of them gets to bring their favorite cereal home.

“I picked first, so I’m totally getting this,” Remy insisted, hugging the cereal box onto his chest. He narrowed his eyes as a show of threat, but his sunglasses blocked them.

“What?! I’m the one paying, so it should be mine,” Virgil argued, tilting his head to the side, as if that sealed a deal between them.

“Okay, fair enough. Next time it’s my turn, Virge.”

As they turned to leave the cereal aisle, Remy’s eyes found someone familiar looking at them.

“Oh hey, girl. What ya ‘doin?”

----------

Roman’s eyes widened when he heard Remy speak to him. He was about to turn around, but it was too late. Remy was already walking towards him.‘Does this guy ever take off those sunglasses?’ He hesitantly looked over Remy’s shoulder to see the other guy who was with Remy. Yup, it’s him.

“Virge! C’mere, it’s my friend, Roman.”

‘Shit! shit! Shit! ¡Carajo! That’s him.’ Roman had to put a face of indifference to avoid suspicion from Remy.

While Roman was having an internal panic, Virgil was much the same, though he did a much worse job of hiding it. He stood frozen as Remy walked closer to him. Apparently Remy knows his soulmate? He didn’t realize how easy it was to recognize his soulmate and what’s more infuriating was that this guy was a literal living embodiment of a Leonardo Da Vinci painting. A sudden wave of anger flooded his chest. What did he ever do to this guy that made him hate Virgil?! They didn’t even know each other! Virgil shoved his tightly-clenched fists into the pockets of his hoodie. He’s going out of there.

As he turned his back to walk away, Remy called out to him. His anger rose up quickly and frustration was starting to show on his face by the way his brows furrowed so tightly. Virgil turned back around to face his cousin. Remy had a welcoming smile on his face, urging him to come closer. The guy—Roman, he remembered—was very different, however. He was giving Virgil an angry, knowing glare. He was just as furious as Virgil was.

Roman was annoyed. And angry. And worried. And a million other things. He never hated the universe this much before. ‘This is gonna give me a serious writer’s block later.’ He hadn’t expect it to be this easy to just stumbled on his soulmate. He hated the fact that he actually had one.

Virgil stomped forward. He gave Roman an intense glare in return, which the man had not expect. Soon after, an intense glaring match ensued. Remy was confused. He wasn’t stupid to suspect that there’s nothing going on between these two. But, what was it?

“Um, girls, y'all alright?” Remy asked, sliding his sunglasses down on his nose in slight concern.

“Fine.” Virgil said sternly, breaking the intense glaring contest and opted to look at Remy instead.

Roman’s brows furrowed even more. He admit that this… emo… guy was pretty cute. He looked even better in real life compared to when he had his hour. Though Roman didn’t care about that at the moment. He dug his nails into his palms, twisting his foot in agitation. How dare the universe throw this bullshit on him!

“Well, alright then. Wait for me here Virge, Imma get some drink.” Remy started walking away. He then turned back around, saying “Don’t go anywhere.” His tone sounded like a warning. Virgil didn’t like it one bit.

After Remy walked off to get a drink from the fridge, Roman and Virgil just stood in the middle of the aisle awkwardly. Virgil didn’t want to look at Roman. Anxiety and nervousness was starting to bubble up in the pit of his stomach. His hands were starting to get slick with sweat. He huffed an angry sigh. ‘What the fuck is wrong with me?!’ He finally spared a glance at Roman and saw that the guy was staring—no, glaring—at him. The anger from earlier started to simmer again in him.

“What?!” Virgil said defensively. An underlying heat of anger was hidden—poorly—behind his words. He crossed his arms in front of him, as if closing himself off.

“Dude, what is your problem?!” Roman responded with anger just as intense as Virgil’s. He was annoyed. To add to that, this guy just snapped at him?!

“Huh—” Virgil mocked a laugh—“I thought you’re the one with a problem. I didn’t even do anything to you.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s the deal with you. So, if you have a problem, just spit it out, emo nightmare!”

“Alright!” Virgil was getting more frustrated. His voice wavered with anger and… anguish? He didn’t exactly know what he was feeling. All he knew was that it was nothing good. “For one, what did I ever do that you hate me so much?”

“Why would I hate you when I don’t even know you?” Roman hissed through clenched jaws. His grip on his shopping cart tightened in contained fury.

“Stop acting stupid like you don’t know who I am!” Virgil burst in anger. “You don’t hate me? Well, that's not what you said in the note!” Virgil stomped away from Roman. He was fuming.

Little did they know, Remy had been listening to the whole ordeal from an aisle away. At first, he didn’t know if those two will actually start talking to each other. He didn’t expect their “conversation” to start with anger. It wasn’t even a long conversation and they both were already consumed with a hot mess of fury. ‘A note? A note… the note? They’re soulmates?’ He tried to come up with ideas on what could possibly had been written on the note to spark such anger in his lil’ cousin. He knew more than anyone that if Virgil is angry—doesn’t matter about what—he would most likely blame himself and it does not end well for him.

‘Roman, khuy tebe. I’m gonna beat your ass!’

He quickly followed Virgil out of the supermarket. He grabbed Virgil’s wrist and immediately let go. Virgil’s face was red and his eyes were bright with unshed tears. His breathing was heavy. Shallow and uneven.

“Hey, hey. Stop, calm down. Listen to me brateyek. Breathe slowly.” He brought Virgil’s palm onto his chest, gently instructing him to follow the rhythm of his breathing. After a while, Virgil calmed down, enough for Remy to be able to touch him without making him flinch. “Alright, what time do you have class?”

“Eleven…”

“Okay, ma'am, we have two hours to talk. You’re going to tell me what just happened is all about.”

“Remy, no. I’m fine.” Virgil insisted. He didn’t want Remy to know. About the note, about his soulmate. About the rejection. He didn’t want anyoneto know about it.

“Milaya, no, you’re not.”

“Fine.” Virgil sighed in defeat and let his cousin dragged him back to his favorite coffee shop.

----------

Logan didn’t know how to deal with this. This is far too complicated for him. He could solve complex math and physics problems in minutes. He could spew out facts about so many things—he’s basically a walking encyclopedia—but not this. This, he cannot seem to understand no matter how hard he tried in the past.

“Logan, stop staring! What am I gonna do? If Remy finds out about that, he is so going to kill me. I mean, he’s smaller than me, but that guy is feisty!”

Roman had called Logan urgently right after he was finished with grocery shopping. He didn’t buy half of the things he had in his list. He had told Logan that he needed to see Logan as soon as possible. Fortunately, Logan was free at the time so he welcomed Roman to his apartment. Roman didn’t say the specifics of his urgency, but Logan said yes anyway. He hadn’t expect this kind of outburst, however.

Now, laying on Logan’s lap, screaming about his soulmate problems, which he wouldn’t have if the universe had enough sense not to give Roman a soulmate. Logan was rather helpless, looking down at his best friend with confusion and annoyance. If it wasn’t only for the fact that they had known each other for twelve years, Logan would have kicked Roman out.

“Roman, I do not know if you are aware, but are you sure you want to ask me about this? Maybe I should call Patton to help you.” Logan said with furrowed brows. He truly was confused. “Besides, I thought it was your fault that you wrote that in your note to your soulmate.”

Roman let out an infuriated gasp. Did Logan seriously just said that? “How dare you! And no, I don’t need Patton’s help. I don’t even know him.”

“Well then, I really don’t know how I’m going to help you, because frankly, I despise anything that involves feelings and emotions.”

“Fine, Logan. Whatever. If I had to speak to Patton, just so I don’t get murdered, I’ll do it.” Roman finally said reluctantly. He was actually rather intrigued by Logan’s offer. “Logan I have a question. How are you and Patton?”

“I don’t understand what you are asking, Roman.”

“I mean, how are you guys doing in this whole… soulmate thing?”

“Relationship wise, there isn’t anything really happening. Patton and I are very different, but as of now, we are quite good friends. Patton is always so bubbly and upbeat, it’s rather overwhelming to keep up with him at times, but I’m fine with it. He was so happy a few days ago when Damien—who, if you remember, is Patton’s twin brother—found his soulmate. I didn’t think anyone could get that excited unless they were a child, but I thought it fit him…” Logan trailed off, realizing that he was rambling about Patton to Roman. He bit his cheek, fighting the warmth crawling on his face.

Roman raised his eyebrows curiously. Logan never talks about anyone like that. Slowly, a small mischievous smile bloomed on Roman’s face. Is this really happening?

“Sooo…” Roman draw out his word, “you’re saying you like him?”

“What, ya—no… I mean, no. I—I don’t know. Maybe?” Logan’s cheeks was starting to get redder.

Roman made a small clicking sound with his tongue and gave Logan a knowing smile—which Logan absolutely hate—and pat him on the back. “So, when can I meet your boy?”

“My boy?”

“Shush, Logan. Call Patton.”

“Alright.”

**********

Spanish stuff (tell me if I made any mistakes):

¡Carajo! [Fuck!] --- Russian stuff (tell me if I made any mistakes):

Хуй тебе! Khuy tebe! [Fuck you!]

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yutasbirthchin · 6 years ago

Text

It’s Complicated

Text AU ft BAP and BTOB - Part 31

Previous / Next

a/n: I wanted a way to give a short update/add some story to some of the characters so here ya go. Also I get to introduce my favourite character!! I hope y'all love her as much as I do.

Junhong watched you peacefully sleeping and it filled his heart with joy, you were beautiful and you were his. But then he frowned. You hadn't shed a tear, in fact you'd barely spoken since you'd found out Mina was pregnant. He was worried about you. He was worried that he might lose you and, even worse, that you might actually believe Mina. He'd never had sex with her, of course he hadn't, he was loyal to you. The only exception being the occasional kiss with Mina to keep their relationship believable.

He had called his mother earlier to tell her about the Mina situation and she was on his side, which he was grateful for, he'd worried that Mina's family might have gotten to her first and filled her head with lies. He wondered if ‘dating’ Mina had ever been the right thing to do. As annoying as it was he would do anything to keep you, and that's what he had done. But was it the right decision? He didn't know. He didn't know where Mina would take things next, and that scared him. He shuffled forward in the bed slightly, tightening his grip around you waist so that he was closer to you. You stirred but didn't wake up. Junhong pressed a kiss to your head and smiled. He loved you more than anything.

Yongguk woke up to the feeling of kisses being peppered all over his face. He kept his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep but it wasn't long until he lost control and his lips pulled up into his usual gummy smile. He opened his eyes to see his girlfriend perched up in the bed leaning over him, his smile got wider. “Morning, baby.” He said, placing a hand on either cheek and pulling her down towards his lips. He then moved his hands down to her waist, pulling her down for a cuddle.

She snuggled into him and lay there enjoying the warmth but after a while Leyla struggled in his arms. “Awww, come on baby, I have to get up!” Yongguk shook his head.

“I don't want to let go.”

Leyla giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Well if you get up with me now we can have a shower and get dressed and eat together and you’ll have spent more time with me than if you just cuddle me for five more minutes.”

Yongguk made a noise as if he was thinking it over. “Sounds like a good idea.” He said eventually, but didn't loosen his embrace.

“You're so predictable.” She replied, rolling her eyes but she had a massive smile on her face. Yongguk went to kiss her but she dodged it. He tried again, but she maneuvered away. He pouted at her, making her laugh. “I love you.” Leyla placed a hand on his cheek, leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you too.” He said against her lips.

“Now come on.” Leyla shrugged his arms off, sitting up and grabbing his hand. “Time to get up.” she finished as she stood up, dragging him with her.

Sungjae groaned at the body squirming around on top of him and pulled the cover up over his head, only to have it pulled back. “Daddy, daddy, it's time to get up!!”

He looked over at Jess who was chuckling to herself. “It’s supposed to be your turn to get him up.” He whispered and she shrugged.

“He likes you more.”

“You’re lucky I love you.” He said as he sat up, coming face to face with Jess’ four year old.

“Daddy!!” Sam squealed in excitement and jumped on him, enveloping him in a big hug. Sungjae’s grumpiness dissolved, as it always did when he laid eyes on the adorable toddler.

“Good morning, Sammy.” He hugged him back and pecked his cheek before leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “Shall we jump on Mommy to wake her up too?” Sam nodded his head enthusiastically, a huge smile playing out on his face. Sungjae counted down silently on his hands and when he reached one the two of them pounced on Jess who was not expecting the attack and screamed in laughter.

Sungjae sat back watching Sam and Jess play around and couldn’t stop the pull of his lips. If you’d have asked him four or five years ago he would have said there is no way on God’s green earth that he would have ever dated a girl who already had a child. But three years ago when he’d met Jessica and her one year old he didn’t think twice about it. He was convinced it was the best decision he’d ever made.

He got up and stretched, walking around to the other side of the bed to pick up Sam, swinging him around and making him giggle. “Come on little one, let’s get you ready for preschool.”

Changsub walked into his class late as usual, receiving a roll of the eyes from his professor. What did he expect? Did he really think Changsub was going to get out of bed early enough to make a 8 o'clock class? Of course not. His eyes landed on Helen, sat at the back of the class away from everybody else. He didn't understand why no one had tried to talk to her, she was gorgeous and seemed nice. He chose to sit in the same row, but a few seats down as he didn't want to make it obvious. She turned her head and watched him and he sat down. Their eyes met so he smiled and she smiled back. She had an amazing smile, the type that draws you in. He really couldn't understand why everyone avoided her, she was the type of beauty that should have guys falling at her feet.

After emptying the contents of his bag he realised he didn't have a pen. He leant forward and tapped the shoulder of the guy in front of him to ask for a pen, but he didn't have one. Suddenly Changsub wished he hadn't sat so far in the back, but then he heard tapping on his right and turned to see Helen holding out a pen to him. “Oh, thank you.” He whispered, taking the pen. She didn't say anything, turning her attention back the the class.

“Here's your pen back.” Changsub said at the end of his class, reaching the pen out to Helen. She took it and put it back in her bag, giving him a smile as she turned to leave the room. “Hey, Helen.” He called out to her and she turned to look at him. “You look really pretty today.”

Thank you.

Changsub blinked after her in confusion. He definitely understood what she’d said, but he hadn't heard it. What just happened?

Ilhoon stood near the entrance to the campus, waiting for Peniel. He hadn't expected to see him walking towards campus hand in hand with Amelia. He watched as the two of them got closer to the gates and then said their goodbyes. The arms wrapping around his waist made him jump and he turned to see the Izzy’s adorable face. “Hey, baby.” He said as he leant down to kiss her.

“Hey! Is Peniel here yet?”

“Yeah.” Ilhoon pointed her attention to the couple. “He's over there with Amelia.”

Izzy looked at them and then back at her boyfriend. “She looks happy.”

He nodded and then looked down at his girlfriend. “It doesn't bother you, does it?”

She shook her head. “No. I trust that you love me. And I think I'd feel the same about an old best friend of mine, even if I didn't have a crush on them. I'd want to make sure they're happy.”

Ilhoon pressed another kiss to her lips, and she smiled into it. “I don't deserve you.”

“Nuh-uh it's the other way around.” She said against his lips as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Whew, calm down you two. We're in a public place.” Peniel said, making them both jump away from each other. They all laughed.

“We saw you with Amelia, you guys are so cute!” Izzy exclaimed and Peniel smiled, his ears turning red. “Awwwwww! You're blushing!”

“Leave the poor guy alone, you. Don't tease him.” Ilhoon told Izzy, playfully. She mock frowned, pushing her bottom lip out as far as it could go.

“You guys are cute too.” Peniel said with a laugh.

Daehyun smiled to himself, things were different and he liked that. A few months ago they were just two friends who would spend their Tuesdays together before going to afternoon classes, but now they were more than that.

Their hands bumped into each other for what felt like the thousandth time and this time Daehyun gave in, grabbing Youngjae’s hand. Unfortunately Youngjae immediately froze and pulled his hand away. Daehyun sighed, he should have expected that, Youngjae had the same reaction every time he tried to hug him or put an arm around him.

They carried on walking in silence, before finding their usual bench and taking a seat. “Youngjae it-”

“I’m sorry.” Youngjae cut him off, catching Daehyun off guard. “I’m sorry I just… I… I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to apologise. I was going to say it’s okay.”

“I don't think I can do this.” Youngjae leant back and ran his hands through his hair. “Why is everything so hard?”

“Because it's new. It's like if you had an accident and ended up with a big scar, or even if you had a spot. You're insecure about it, you think that everyone is looking at you and all they see is the scar or spot and they judge you. And heck, some people probably are but after time you learn to live with it and you stop caring. It's the exact same concept. You feel like everyone is paying attention to you and watching your every move so that they can judge you any time you do something ‘gay’. It's okay to feel like that, it's normal and you don't have to apologise to me for it.”

Youngjae nodded taking a deep breath. “Thank you, Dae.”

“Don't mention it.” He replied, reaching a hand out to squeeze Youngjae's thigh.

“I'm really glad I have you.” Youngjae mumbled to himself.

Jongup was sat in the library working on a draft of his essay. He heard a bang and looked to find the source of it, then he smiled.

“Shit. Fuck. Ouch. Yes, I’m fine thank you, don’t worry. Fuuuck. Oh. Yeah. Thank you.” Olivia caught his eye and rushed towards him, balancing all her belongings in her arms.

“Nice entrance.” Jongup said as she sat down next to him.

“Fuck that hurt.” She said, rubbing her knee. “I don’t even know what I tripped on.”

“Knowing you, probably nothing.”

“Shut it, Jongup. You’re right, but shut it.” He looked over her as she sorted her things out. Hair in a messy bun, the white t-shirt that she’d obviously spilt coffee on (again), the bright green tracksuit bottoms, black flip flops that looked like they would fall apart any second. She was a mess, as always. “What?” Olivia asked when she noticed him looking.

“You look like shit.”

She laughed. “When do I not? I fucking spilt my coffee again this morning. AGAIN.”

“You should really stop wearing white.” He responded as he reached in his bag for the old t-shirt he always carried around for cases like these. “Here you go.”

“Thank you! Honestly, Jongup, you’re a godsend. I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.”

“I know you won’t listen, because you never do, but you may as well keep it because all I ever do is carry it around with me incase you need it.”

“I’ll get it back to you tomorrow.” She repeated, standing up to go and change. True to her nature she tripped and if it wasn’t for Jongup catching her she would have fallen.

“Jesus, Liv. Be careful.”

“Unfortunately my clumsiness is on such a high level that being careful makes no difference.”

Jongup shook his head as he watched her leave. “Cute.”

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stoppableforce · 7 years ago

Text

~1600 words about blood DKs in BfA

(Battle for Azeroth mechanical spoilers follow.)

So Blizzard finally is doing with BfA what they probably should've done with Legion and given blood DKs a reason to ever look at our talent pane. Like, 90% of the time, these were my talents for the entirety of Legion:

Obviously there were some changes from time to time - I think I took Spectral Deflection for our Kil'jaeden kill just because of how hard his average melee swing hits, I had Rune Tap and Foul Bulwark for a while when Soul of the Deathlord was my best legendary (my legendary luck was shit y'all), and usually would use Tremble Before Me and Bonestorm for Mythic+ - but otherwise this is the exact build I was using and there was no reason to deviate.

Now, well, Blizz finally dumped a big bunch of changes on us all at once in the last alpha build. Let’s go row by row.

In the initial writeup for this on Wowhead, it said that Rune Strike was in place of Blooddrinker, and initially I was kind of sad to see Blooddrinker go (because it’s really good!) but also happy (because it’s so obscenely overpowered compared to the other options that it overshadows the others even in situations they should be good). What actually happened is that Bloodworms jumped up to 90, everything slid one spot to the left, and Rune Strike was added, but this ain’t your daddy’s Rune Strike - now it’s a two-charge attack that does physical damage and restores a rune. It’s basically a more offensively-oriented version of Blood Tap, which has disappeared again.

And, as an aside, Blooddrinker has been nerfed through the floor. On live, it’s 4.5x your AP; on alpha, even accounting for smaller numbers (and using Wowhead as a source here), it’s 0.44x your AP. So the damage is comparable to Rune Strike. I could see feasibly taking Rune Strike, especially early on while our haste levels kind of suck, because Blood DK rune generation appears to still be entirely passive.

I would be interested to see if it stacks during Dancing Rune Weapon (i.e., would it restore 3 runes). A lot of other effects (looking at Hemostasis here) do.

Oh, and Heartbreaker is exactly the same as it is on live. Maybe it’s good for Mythic+ now, or heavy AOE situations, since Blooddrinker isn’t so overpoweringly good.

Heart of Ice and Spectral Deflection are both gone now, and Rapid Decomposition has lost its runic power generation in favor of speeding up both Death and Decay and Blood Plague. In return, we get two very familiar features as abilities now: Hemostasis is an altered version of the effect of our hands-down best legendary in Legion, Skullflower’s Haemostasis, while Consumption is the active effect from our artifact weapon.

This version of Hemostasis is half as effective per stack; however, in AOE situations, you’ll probably immediately be stacking it to 4-5 stacks with each Blood Boil cast. That’s a neat change.

On the other hand, the talented version of Consumption has a 15 second longer cooldown and deals significantly less damage. Then again, everything deals significantly less damage. Losing the on-use Leech effect for the party from the artifact weapon makes it less attractive, as well.

I feel like it’s probably a spike vs. sustain situation - Rapid Decomposition is going to be decent sustained health gain and damage in AOE, while Hemostasis and Consumption will be more bursty.

Will of the Necropolis and Rune Tap both jump down here, and work exactly as they do on live. Anti-Magic Barrier, rather than increasing your health for some reason, now absorbs more magic more often for a longer time. I feel like it’s probably going to be the default go-to, barring times when you need Rune Tap to survive large predictable bursts of damage. Will of the Necropolis continues to not impress.

Tremble Before Me goes the way of the dodo. I’ll kind of miss it for randomly fearing large packs of spellcasting enemies in Mythic+. March of the Damned also works the same way it does on live; good if you need to move twice as fast (I’d prefer to move twice as often, honestly) or Freedom yourself.

On the other hand, the live version of Tightening Grasp gets split in half. The one that didn’t get a name change still reduces Gorefiend’s Grasp’s cooldown by 30 seconds, but that’s all it does. Meanwhile, the new Grip of the Dead gives your D&D a 90% slow, but it decays by 10% every second, so after 3 seconds it’s worse than the old Tightening Grasp.

I feel like in raid situations this is probably still a no-brainer. Maybe if you don’t raid with four paladins you’ll find March of the Damned more useful than I do, but I feel like Tightening Grasp is just going to be the default, outside of Necrotic week in M+.

I’m starting to reconsider what I said about a reason to change my talents.

This row is sort of an amalgam of talents from other rows on live, and it’s an interesting choice with the changes involved.

Foul Bulwark is still here, but it’s half as effective (1% health per Bone Shield charge, down from 2% on live). Ossuary is here, but it doesn’t make Death Strike cheaper anymore; instead, you can now go up to 15 Bone Shield charges, and you have a max of 125 Runic Power (up from 110). And Tombstone... didn’t change at all.

This is the first time we haven’t been able to simultaneously have Foul Bulwark and Ossuary (previously they were level 90 and level 58, respectively) and I can see why; it’d be a no-brainer. Now, however, I’m not sure. I almost want to say Ossuary ends up being a DPS gain (you’ll end up with fewer Marrowrends to keep Bone Shield count up and more to just maintain the buff, which means pumping out more Heart Strikes) but I’m not sure how the survival end of things shakes out. I guess technically Ossuary doesn’t offer any survival gain, since 15 charges of Bone Shield protects you exactly the same as 10 or even 1; it would’ve been interesting to test Ossuary with Spectral Deflection, but that’s gone.

Hey Blizzard: maybe bring back Spectral Deflection instead of Will of the Necropolis. Just a thought.

Don’t worry, Soulgorge isn’t back. I know, I saw that icon and I got worried too. Voracious is a new and exceedingly simple talent: Death Strike grants you 15% Leech for 6 seconds. Meanwhile, Bloodworms is up here now with a slight buff (your autoattacks can summon a worm, not just autoattack crits) while Mark of Blood caught a slight nerf (2% heal rather than 3% on enemy autoattack).

I feel like Voracious is probably so much clearly better than the others right now that it’s hard to justify anything else. 15% flat leech is a lot of healing, even without worrying about actively maintaining the buff. It’s also nice and predictable, unlike Bloodworms, and doesn’t use resources better spent on other heals, like Mark of Blood.

Red Thrist is up here and caught a nerf (1 second reduction on Vampiric Blood’s cooldown per 10 RP spent, up from 6 RP); Bonestorm works kind of like it does now but the heal is slightly more effective (damage numbers are down, though); and Purgatory is Purgatory. Blood Mirror is gone and that’s the real tragedy; a defensive and offensive cooldown all in one that rewarded you for learning when you were going to take high amounts of reflectable damage?

Hey Blizzard: maybe bring back Blood Mirror instead of Will of the Necropolis. Just a thought.

Anyway: This row feels kind of unfinished in that you get a boring passive that only works if you die, a boring passive that works either way, and a really good AOE ability. And honestly, barring a lot of sudden burst damage, it’s hard to justify taking Purgatory anymore. I don’t die that much! So I’ll probably end up with Red Thirst, just because I won’t be able to lean on Service of Gorefiend anymore.

So I guess at least Blizzard has managed to make some of the rows interesting to play with instead of none of the rows. I’m curious to see how Rune Strike vs. Blooddrinker shakes out, the whole level 57 row, Foul Bulwark vs. Ossuary, and so on. But there are still a few complete stinkers in here: Will of the Necropolis, Heartbreaker, and Tombstone most notably.

Some things I’d like to see come back as talents in place of these snoozers:

Thoughtseize: We very briefly had this new ability in the alpha to steal a buff, then recast the ability to put the buff on a target ally. The coolest purge in the game, hands down. Then it went away, then came back as Reap Magic. Zzzz. A real sleeper. Probably the only purge that gains resources instead of costing them, but still. I think Thoughtseize could be interesting as a talented upgrade to Reap Magic, even though there would inevitably be at least one Mythic kill cheesed by it early on. (Looking at you, Dark Simulacrum + Wrack bug.)

Souldrinker: that way I don’t feel bad about my overheals.

Aggramar’s Stride: I definitely wouldn’t mind not feeling like the slowest thing on two legs, but I understand that part of our “class fantasy” is supposed to be this slow implacable reaper bullshit, whatever. Just let me run a little faster all the time, eh Blizzard?

Mouth of Hell, because I’m gonna miss my extra swordfriend, as well as the bonus DPS gain from three stacks of Blood Plague and only needing to press Marrowrend a single time to fill it up to 10 stacks.

#world of warcraft #death knight #blood dk #tanking #battle for azeroth #warcraft #original content

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shostakobitchh · 8 years ago

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omg I read red sorrow on ao3 I it's one of my fav hp fics. I'm so addicted to it

HO BOY Anon. I’ve had a few peopleask me this — do y'all just want to see Snape die early of a stroke LOL?

This takes place during Ariel’sTom-recovery, so she’s 13. I’m considering this a canon thing because Iliterally thought it would be extra to include this in the actual story. That’s why you haven’theard anything about Ariel getting her period. (I’ve also gotten some creepy asks about her – please stop asking me her fucking bra size the kid is barely 14 for fucks sake).

also it’s a Thing that like, everyone, including myself, cried when they first got their period bc you’re like “the figgle fuck” so no i’m not purposefully trying to angst this all to hell

It happened when Ariel had been thinking about someone who probably would have thought her ridiculous for her reaction – Katie Bell.

Ariel had done her normal Shower-Sitting – which was where she sat in the shower for forty minutes and cleared her head – but it wasn’t turning out to be a very good session. There was a dull throbbing in her sinus’ that only seemed to be getting progressively worse.

She’d tried thinking of something else to take her mind off of it – she didn’t want to think about Tom, or she’d start hyperventilating. Instead, Ariel tried to focus on what she’d do once this was over. She could already hear the girls in her year talking – they’d think Ariel had gone mental or something. They already thought she had some secret home that Ariel Floo’d to every time she wasn’t in the dorms. It didn’t bother her much, because Ariel knew she was just with her dad, but going missing for this long was… going to be hard.

Ariel could hear the rumors now – I hear she’s been at St Mungo’s

I hear she’s been sleeping down in the Slytherin dorms – she’s been re-Sorted

Maybe she’s really the Heir

No – Ariel Potter is nothing special

“I don’t see what all the fuss is about,” Lucius had said.

She buried her head between her knees and counted backwards from ten. Her head felt like it was going to explode.

When that didn’t work, Ariel resolved that she was probably going to need to ask her dad for a potion. She didn’t want to ask – she felt like she was imposing, after everything she’d put him through and what he was doing now…

She took her time getting dressed, combing a brush through her thick hair. There was too much of it – she clogged the drains in the shower back at Spinner’s End all the time. It drove her father absolutely mad. Pulling her hair back into a braid, Ariel sat down on the toilet, brushing her teeth at the same time.

When she looked down, there was a bright spot of red in the middle of her knickers.

She blinked a few times, trying to make it go away, but it didn’t. After a few seconds, Ariel rubbed her eyes, throwing her toothbrush into the sink, and felt her throat tighten up. Her period? Now? She hadn’t even thought – she’d been waiting for it, but she was smaller than the other girls in her year. Madam Pomfrey had told her it wouldn’t be for another year before she should expect anything. Ariel hadn’t wanted her to do the scan and tell her right there when she’d get it, because she hadn’t wanted to know. It had freaked her out.

Why now? Merlin, Ariel didn’t need this…

She frantically wiped at her eyes, pulling up her pants with shaky hands. This was perfectly normal – Ariel knew that, but that thought wasn’t making this any easier. Should she put something down? No… no that sounded messy. Ariel needed to go to Madam Pomfrey and made sure that it actually was her period first.

“Dad?” Ariel called as she exited her bedroom, twisting her hands in her sweater.

Her father looked up from the book he was reading – her Transfiguration textbook. If he was going to be tutoring her for the next month, Ariel supposed he needed to learn teaching methods for other subjects. Her heart throbbed painfully – he was working so hard, all because Ariel had made a stupid mistake…

He looked so tired – gutted, even. His eyes, however, were lighter.

Severus frowned as he looked her over. “Have you been crying?”

Ariel couldn’t help it – she burst into tears.

She immediately tried to compose herself, but once Severus’ arms were around her, all hope was lost. Ariel wept openly against him, all of her confusion and guilt washing over her like a strong tide. His embrace was her anchor, and for a brief moment, her mind cleared itself of her exhaustion and pain and heartache…

“I’m sorry,” Ariel wiped at her face as she pulled away. “Merlin, I don’t know what’s wrong with me…”

“You’ve been through a horrific ordeal.” Her father smoothed a hand over her hair. “You needn’t apologize.”

“I just… can I go see MadamPomfrey?”

Severus’ eyes immediately sharpened. “Why? Do you feel ill?”

“I’m fine, Dad.” Ariel sighed. “I just… something happened.”

“What happened?”

“Dad, it’s not a big deal.” Arielsaid, a desperate edge to her voice. “Can I pleasejust go?”

“You are going to tell me right now what you’re talking —”

“It’s a private thing.” She forced through her teeth.

Severus looked insulted. “Ariel, there is no privacy about your health after what has happened to you.”

“It’s a girl kind of thing.” She glowered at him, annoyed that he was making her say this. “A monthly girlthing.”

For a split second, he looked terribly confused – he didn’t wear the expression well. Ariel gave him a meaningful look, and felt her cheeks redden when understanding slowly unfolded across his face. He went a whole shade lighter – he looked like he was about to pass out, but he didn’t.

“Oh.” said Severus. He swallowed audibly.

“Yeah,” Ariel went fuchsia. “oh. It’s not just… that. I have a really bad headache. I thought it would go away, butI think it might be… related.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” His face asked her to say no.

“Uh, thanks, but I’d er, rather gothis one alone.”

“Understood.” Severus nodded.“I’ll fetch you when you’re done. If you need me…”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Yes you will.” Her father said, though it sounded more like he was reassuring himself. “You’ll be alright. If you need… potions, Poppy asks me to brew for the female students…”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.” said Ariel quickly.

“Agreed.”

She hightailed it to the Floo, and when she looked back over her shoulder, Severus was staring back at her bedroom like he’d left something there.

#redsorrow #oneshot #ariel vibes #writing until my hands fall off

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threeorphanpilgrimage · 7 years ago

Text

Chapter 68 - Day of the Living

Clementine took a breath as she examined the instrument in her hands, dreading what came next. She tried to force herself to act, but couldn't summon the will to go through with it.

"Clem?" asked Sarah. "Are you—"

"I'm going to," assured Clem. "It's just… you have such beautiful hair."

"It's fine Clem," assured Sarah. "I don't mind."

"I mind." Clem sighed as she carefully took hold of Sarah's long, dark hair. "I hate this almost as much as I hate cutting my own hair."

"You know I would cut your hair if you just asked."

"You cut it too short," accused Clem as she carefully angled her scissors. "I barely have any hair left when you do it."

"You're the one who told me it's important to keep our hair short," reminded Sarah. "And if there are as many lurkers on the other side of the river as Devlin says there are, we need to be ready for anything."

"Yeah… we do." Clem sighed and made her first of what would be many cuts. She found each and every one of them painful, and it was all made worse that Sarah had asked for her hair to be cut as short as possible. Clem pleaded with her to settle on cutting it just short enough to tie back but she refused, and now she was sitting there calmly as if nothing was happening. After dozens of traumatic snips, Clem found the terrible task finished when she was unable to remove any more hair.

"You're done?" asked Sarah.

"Yeah," said Clem with a sigh. "It's done."

Sarah stood up and hurried into the bathroom while Clem looked down at the piles of black hair at her feet. She moved the chair and started shoveling it all into the garbage back they had set on the ground. Tying off the bag, Clem watched as Sarah returned from the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," said Clem immediately.

"For what?" asked Sarah.

"For cutting it so short."

"I told you to."

"It really doesn't bother you?" asked a surprised Clem. "I mean, you kind of look like a boy now."

"I really don't care," assured Sarah. "I was just making sure it was short enough that it couldn't get grabbed." Sarah walked over to Clem and picked up the bag she tied. "I'll toss this out and check on Patty real quick, make sure her and Devlin don't need anything."

"I'll go get breakfast." Clem headed for the closet and eyed their loose collection of cans scattered across the mostly empty shelves. It was a hard choice, but she eventually settled on artichoke hearts and their final can of beets as the least disgusting foods they had left. Sarah went to collect Omid while Clem cracked the cans open.

The beets were okay, but the artichokes tasted like wet mush mixed with too much salt. Omid didn't like either one, and made it very clear he didn't as well. Some well-executed maneuvers on Sarah's part did manage to get him to swallow a few tiny bites of beets, but not a bit more. Neither of them wanted to even try to feed him the artichokes, so they let him skip to dessert and eat his ice cream.

"Maybe we could borrow a can of fruit from Sin and Jet, or Anthony," suggested Sarah as she fed Omid a tiny piece of ice cream. "They would understand, right?"

"Yeah, I think so…" An uncomfortable hush fell between the two girls as they watched Omid eat. The boy finished his piece and immediately opened his mouth for another.

"Why don't you go get ready? I'll finish feeding him," said Sarah.

"Okay." Clem headed into the bathroom to do her business and brush her teeth. Moving to the mirror, Clem was disappointed her hair was as short as it was, but was grateful she still had some of it. She picked up a worn brown elastic tie and used it to pull her hair into a tight bun. Clem adjusted the bracelet on her wrist, admiring the multi-colored beads briefly before grabbing her hat.

Slipping the cap on her head, Clem couldn't help staring at the bruise on her right arm. It and others on her right leg had formed the morning after she had fallen in the river. They were still sore, but the sight of the blackened marks running along the right side of her body pained Clem more than the bruises themselves. The day before yesterday she had fallen off a bridge, and now she was going to try to do something far more dangerous.

"Clem?" There were a couple of gentle knocks at the door. Pulling it open, Clem found Sarah standing outside. "Are you okay?"

Looking at Sarah, it was obvious she had already noticed Clem's distress, approaching her friend without a word. Clem couldn't think of anything to say as Sarah stared anxiously at her, so she didn't say anything; she threw her hands around Sarah instead.

"I'm scared," Clem whispered into Sarah's ear.

"Me too," Sarah whispered back as she embraced Clem. "I think we have a good plan, but—"

"Something could go wrong," said Clem.

"I was just going to say, we've never tried something like this before. But yeah, something could go wrong."

"Something always goes wrong…"

"Not always."

"Name a time we did something and nothing went wrong."

"Well… the first time Patty helped us and we got all that food from Titusville. Everything went as planned and we got a lot of food."

"Yeah, but this a lot different."

"I know… but we've got a lot more help this time," reasoned Sarah. "We haven't had this many people since… back at the cabin."

"I guess that's true," said Clem, not finding much comfort in that fact. "I'm also worried about what Devlin said, about the power plant."

"Yeah, it worries me too."

"Does radiation really make your hair fall out?"

"I don't know. I wanted to look it up, but our encyclopedias were ruined in the flood. But I was more worried about the other part, about getting sick and dying."

"It's… it's been like two weeks," reasoned Clem as she tightened her grip on Sarah. "If there was something wrong, we would have noticed by now, right? I mean, how long does it take for radiation to make you sick?"

"I don't know," repeated Sarah. "Again, I wanted to look that up, but we don't have the 'R' encyclopedia anymore."

"I… I love you Sarah," professed Clem, suddenly fearful she wouldn't get a chance to say that again.

"I love you too Clementine." Clem turned her head and gently kissed Sarah's cheek, and found herself a little disappointed when Sarah didn't return the gesture.

"Mah-bah!" Looking past Sarah, Clem spotted Omid standing in the door.

"He's still hungry," realized Clementine.

"I'll get his stuff together and take him over to the Sunseeker," said Sarah as she pulled away from Clem. "We were going to keep him there anyway since Patty says it's the only vehicle that hasn't stalled on us."

"Speaking of which, I should bring her what's left of breakfast." Clem left Sarah to deal with Omid while she grabbed the beet and artichoke cans off the table. Looking through the windshield, she could see Patty handing out something to Devlin while Sin, Jet, and Anthony looked on. Stepping outside, she could see Devlin was holding a hand grenade.

"Where did you get these again?" he asked.

"I found them after I left Miami for good," explained Patty as she shut the lid on a green ammo box. "They were in a drainage pipe near a crashed truck. Not sure if they landed there or if someone stashed them for later, but it was the only thing left of value I could find."

"And there were only three left in the box?" asked Sin as he looked at the grenade he was holding.

"No, I used up the others. I'd toss them at old houses; the explosion would set them on fire while the noise would drag walkers in from all over. They'd walk right in and get burnt to a crisp, then I could loot the rest of the area knowing it was mostly clear. I was always hoping I'd just stumble upon another box of them eventually. I don't suppose you have any?"

"Nah, we used up most of our ordnance on the bridges, and the rest not long after that," said Devlin as he clipped the grenade to his belt. "If we get cornered, these will be good for drawing the infected off, but I really hope we don't need them. Y'all remember what I told you about using these things, right?"

"Yeah," said Jet while the others merely nodded. Yesterday, Devlin had explained to each of them how to use a grenade. Holding the handle on a grenade prevents it from exploding after pulling the pin, but once the handle is released they only had five seconds before it blew up. Clem was glad the others were handling the grenades; just looking at them reminded her of the time she accidentally crossed paths with one Patty had thrown in Titusville.

"All right, let's go over the plan one more—"

"We've been over it and over it," interrupted Anthony. "We must have talked about it a dozen times the other day, everything we needed to get from your fancy citadel is already in our vehicles, and we all know what we're supposed to do, so I say we just do it already."

"Yeah, I'm with Anthony," said Patty. "Let's roll."

Devlin looked over the rest of the group and saw a silent agreement in the faces of all of them. Clem herself was anxious to proceed, finding the mere act of planning yesterday stressful enough without reviewing it yet again.

"All right then." Devlin shrugged, then turned to look at the citadel's gate. "If this trick for slipping past the dead you told me about works, then—"

"It does," confirmed Sin. "It doesn't make sense, but it works."

"I hope so, because there's too many over too far an area to ever try walking the food back, so we're gonna need every advantage we can get if we're actually going to clear them out." Devlin looked out at the gate and took a breath. "I always assumed the Bible was talking about people who were already long gone when it said the dead would rise, not the recently deceased. I never thought this is what the end of the world would look like."

"I always assumed it would be a slow collapse scenario brought on by mismanaged resources and short-sighted fools blocking significant progress for quick gains," said Sin. "That or a solar storm."

"Solar storm?" repeated Patty.

"Activity on the sun results in the release of electromagnetism. A strong enough electromagnetic field colliding with the Earth would destroy our satellites, and wipe out most of the world's power grid along with just about everything plugged into it at the time."

"Are… are you serious?" asked Anthony.

"Am I ever not?" answered Sin.

"But that's the kind of thing that won't happen for a billion years, right?" asked Clem.

"Actually, the planet was struck by a major solar storm back in eighteen, fifty-nine. It was so intense that auroras could be seen in the sky from almost anywhere on the planet, and telegraph equipment shot out sparks big enough to start fires."

"Jesus…" said Devlin.

"Glad that happened over a hundred years ago and not now," said Jet.

"There was another solar storm of similar strength a few years before our current apocalypse," informed Sin. "It narrowly missed the Earth, but had it hit us… well actually a worldwide blackout may have better prepared us for what's happening now. At the very least it would have given us a few years to adjust to life without a functional electrical infrastructure, convince us to pursue more self-sufficient alternatives."

"Your old man always this optimistic?" Devlin asked Jet.

"He's my granddad," he answered. "And yeah, he's always like this. He was talking about the end of the world before it happened."

"It's not the end of the world," everyone turned to Sarah as she stepped out of the Brave. She was carrying Omid in her arms and had a backpack slung over her shoulder. "At least not yet."

"Whoa, what happened to your hair?" asked Anthony.

"Clem cut it, so it's safer," explained Sarah.

"Why do you care?" asked Patty.

"I just thought it looked better before," noted Anthony.

"I told you," said Clem.

"And I told you I don't care." As Sarah moved in closer, Clem could see Omid was still upset. She wanted to comfort him, only to remember she was still holding Patty's breakfast in each hand.

"Here," said Clem as she finally handed the beets and artichokes off to the woman.

"Jeez, I was kind of hoping for something a little better for our big day," said Patty as she studied the labels.

"Those are probably the best ones we have left," informed Clem, wishing those weren't the best canned foods they had left.

"Omid wouldn't even eat most it," said Sarah as she cradled the boy. "I was kind of hoping we could borrow a can of fruit from one of you, just so he'd eat something today."

"I'm fresh out," reported Anthony. "Down to just vegetables now."

"I'm sorry," said Sin. "But we don't have any fruit either."

"We've still got a can of corn through," said Jet. "Will he eat that?"

"Yeah, he's had corn before," said Sarah.

"Hey OJ," said Clementine as she leaned in close to the boy. "You like corn right?"

"It might not be the end of the world yet, but it sure feels like it," said Anthony. "I remember not long after this started, how I missed my favorite foods and hated eating out of cans. Nowadays, I'd settle for more cans of sugary mush than salted mush. At this rate, I'll probably be happy just to have salty mush in a few months."

"Kem-men," said OJ with a smile as he looked right at Clementine.

"Yeah, really, it feels like we're all just living on borrowed time," noted a glum Patty. "God knows our vehicles certainly are."

"Ah-sah." Omid started eyeing the sky with a sense of awe.

"Devlin," said Sin. "Did you every hear any news about the rest of the world?"

"I remember hearing news reports of their being signs of the outbreak in England, France, and China before communications went to shit. There were probably some other places mentioned too but I can't remember anymore."

Clem watched with great curiously as Omid start grasping at the air above him. She wasn't sure what he was trying to touch until she looked up and spotted a single puffy cloud hanging in the otherwise clear sky. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she realized Omid was trying to grab the cloud.

"You said China?" asked Sin.

"Yeah, you got friend's there or something?"

"Not there, but back in Thailand," said Sin, a hint of sadness in his voice. "With news being so scarce, I was holding out hope that maybe some parts of the world had been spared this madness."

"You like being outside, don't you?" asked Clem in a whisper.

"Ow-sah…" awed Omid, revealing his two front teeth.

"We didn't hear much else after that, but what we did hear sounded like whatever this is, it's global," said Devlin.

"There's nowhere to go," concluded a dismayed Jet. "And nothing is ever going to change."

"Don't say that," snapped Clem in a harsh tone as she turned to Jet. "Things will change. That's why we spent all day yesterday planning, and that's what we're gonna do today; change things for the better."

Everyone looked at Clementine for a second, surprised by her declaration.

"Well you heard her," said Devlin. "Let's make this happen."

"Jai yen yen." Everyone looked at Sin in confusion.

"It means stay frosty," translated Jet. "At least I think it does."

"Semper paratus," added Devlin with a smirk.

"Isn't that the Marines' motto?" asked Anthony.

"That's semper fi, the Coast Guard's is semper paratus; always ready. After sitting on my ass and going stir crazy for a couple of months, I think I'm ready for anything."

"Be good for Sarah," whispered Clem before leaning in to kiss Omid on the forehead. "Love you."

"Muh-boo," repeated Omid while trying to reach out to Clem before being carried away by Sarah. She joined Sin and Jet as they all filed into the Sunseeker while Devlin followed Anthony to his truck.

"You ready partner?" asked Patty.

"I hope so." Clem followed Patty back into the Brave and sat down beside the woman as she tried to start the engine.

"Come on dammit, don't make me get out," grumbled Patty as the engine produced only an annoying churning sound.

"It keeps doing that," noted a concerned Clem. "Do you know why?"

"Could be one of a million things. Even if I had time to check, I probably wouldn't have the supplies on hand to fix it," groaned Patty as she turned the key again. "Devlin said they had hoarded stuff for their vehicles at this shopping center, maybe I can give it the tune-up it needs there."

"The shower isn't working that good either," added Clem. "The water only comes out a little at a time, like—"

"The sink," finished Patty as she tried the key a third time. "Yeah, I noticed that."

"Do you think you can fix it?"

"Honestly? Probably not. Just because it's attached to a vehicle doesn't change the fact it's plumbing, and I don't really know anything about that."

Clem sighed. "I guess it's not a big deal. Sarah says we're only supposed to use a little water anyway, so we don't waste it. But—"

"It was great having long showers while it lasted."

"Maybe we can use the other RV's shower sometimes?" suggested Clem.

"It doesn't have one," said Patty. "Just a toilet and a sink."

"And a shower rod they took to hang clothes on," recalled Clem. "But no actual shower."

Patty sighed, then tried the key again, finally starting to engine much to her and Clem's relief. "At least this thing is still working for now, along with the hot water heater."

"And the toilet," added Clem with a grimace.

Patty put the Brave into drive and Clem watched as they pulled past the citadel's gate. Heading north, they passed by more empty buildings, looted stores, and crowded parking lots overflowing with abandoned cars. Clem could also see modest houses complete with humble backyards closed in by a simple wooden fence running alongside the road. Clem would say they reminded her of her old house in Georgia, but she could hardly remember what it looked anymore.

They weren't on the road long before Patty turned the Brave onto a bridge leading over the river. This wasn't the same bridge Clem had fallen off the day before, but it was missing a section in the middle just like that one. The destroyed bridges was a safety measure according to Devlin, allowing them to quarantine the more walker heavy east section of town from its west. But since they did that, the east side had been gradually cleared out while the west had been swarmed by the herd from Oklahoma City. Unfortunately, what they wanted was west of the river.

"All right," said Patty as she put the Brave in park. "Let's go partner."

Patty loaded her shotgun while Clem equipped her pistol and her spare magazines, then collected their raincoats, respirators, binoculars, radios and backpacks. Clem grabbed her tomahawk while Patty strapped a machete to her back. Removing the sheath, Clem examined the weapon's razor sharp edges. She had spent over half an hour carefully sharpening both the axe and knife-edge yesterday, as well as cleaning her pistol in preparation for today.

Clem adjusted her hat while Patty finished tying off her scarf, then the pair turned to each other. There were no words between them, just a quiet look of understanding before they barged outside. It was warmer today, but still cold enough to make Clem shiver. Briefly eyeing the edge of the bridge, Clem felt a chill shoot up her spine as her thoughts suddenly shifted to the icy river churning below, and the bruises on her right side felt a little sorer as she scooted away from the edge.

Scanning the area for threats, Clem found little beyond a mostly empty four lane road that stopped abruptly in the middle. Eyeing a lone derelict car off to the side, Patty raised her gun while Clem approached it. She banged her tomahawk against the side of the vehicle, then checked inside when that failed to produce any results. The front was empty, as was the back and the trunk, likely picked clean months ago.

After that the pair moved towards the end of the bridge. The middle of the road looked as if something had forcibly ripped it away in a flash. If not for some scorch marks near the edge of the concrete, Clem never would suspect explosives were used to do this. The rest of the road past the break was empty, and an abundance of dead trees on both sides of it blocked her view on what lay past the river. According to Devlin, this road led right to the shopping center they used as a base, but if it was out there, Clem couldn't see any clues to its existence.

"Everyone ready?" Clem heard Sarah ask over the radio.

"Me and military man are in place," reported Anthony.

"Give us a minute," said Clem as she and Patty removed their backpacks. Clem started pulling glass bottles out of her bag while Patty unpacked a huge bundle of fireworks. The pair quickly set a rocket in each bottle until they had a row of six set up and ready to be fired.

"All right Sarah, count us down." Patty clipped the radio to her belt and removed a pair of lighters from her pocket, one of which she gave to Clem.

"Okay, get ready." Sarah's words prompted Clem to bend down and position the lighter right by the nearest rocket fuse. "Three, two, one!" Clem flicked the lighter and the fuse almost instantly sparked to life. She hurried to the next rocket, then the third one. After lighting those, she looked to her right and spotted Patty lighting her final rocket, after which the duo took several steps back and waited.

The first pair of rockets took off screaming into the sky and exploded into bursts of smoke, with any colorful lights being invisible against the morning sky. Clem could hear other fireworks in the distance, both to the north and south. The next pair of rockets streaked into the sky followed immediately after by the final set, each of their detonations echoed by two other sets of explosions in the distance. The loud bangs sent some stray birds flying from the trees on the other side of the river, and then there was silence.

"Now we wait and see if that was loud enough for them." Patty reached for her binoculars and Clem did the same. They both scanned the horizon for signs of walkers, but only found only an empty bridge. "We should have taken a bunch of those Saturn missile things instead of bottle rockets."

"A bunch of what?" asked Clem.

"You know, those boxes full of tiny red plastic missiles that make horrible screeching noises when they go off."

"Oh, those… I hate those."

"Yeah, me too, but in retrospect, we should have packed a bunch of them instead of bottle rockets, they make tons of noise and eat up less space. Hell, why didn't we at least pack more bottle rockets?"

"We were going to, but we had to move all your stuff into the Brave, so we could only take as many rockets as we could fit in the closet."

"That's right," recalled Patty with a sigh. "We should have just found another vehicle instead of me living with you and Sarah."

"You don't like staying with us?"

"What? No, I love being around you two and Omid, it makes everything feel less insane, almost normal."

"We like being with you too," assured Clem.

"Thanks, I… I can't remember anyone ever saying that to me before," professed Patty. "Still, we could have found a truck to use for hauling things, and I could have still slept in the RV at night, or—"

"I see them," announced Clem.

"Yeah, me too, on the right side of the bridge."

Clem watched as a rotten corpse stumbled into view on the horizon.

"Is… is that it?" asked Clem.

"Dammit, maybe the rockets weren't loud enough," mumbled Patty.

"Or maybe there's just not that many walkers left," reasoned Clem as she watched the lone walker stumble across the broken bridge. "Devlin did say it's been a long time since he went over there."

"Yeah, but he also said… oh shit."

Clem watched as dozens of walkers sprung into view, like an infestation of grotesque weeds growing out of the horizon. More kept pouring into sight until there was an entire mob of them canvassing the bridge. Clem felt a familiar sense of dread growing in the pit of her stomach as they shambled relentlessly forward, the dull roar of their uneven moans filling the air.

"Jesus, that's a lot of them."

Clem instinctively took a step backwards as the walkers lurched forward, and she found herself unable to breathe until the first walker plummeted off the bridge. It hit the water with a huge splash, which made Clem flinch as her bruises suddenly felt sorer than they did a moment ago. That walker was followed by a dozen more, all diving into the river and creating a series of loud splashes to accompany the non-stop moaning. Some of them thrashed about in the water, others seemed to give up and start floating downstream, while some of them simply didn't come up after falling beneath the water.

"It seems to be working," reported Sin over the radio.

"Seems too?" asked Patty.

"They're coming, I'm just not sure when they're going to stop," he said.

"Like I said, there's hundreds, and that's at the very least," added Devlin.

"And he said it could be as many as thousands," Patty mumbled to herself as she watched the dead pour off the edge of the broken bridge, almost like a waterfall of festering, moaning meat. Clem found herself growing uneasy as the walkers continued to march into view over the horizon without end, and she started to wonder if the next part of their plan was really going to work.

It dawned on Clem there could be walkers on this side of the river as well, and she spun around in a flash expecting at least a dozen of them shambling up to meet her. But there wasn't, and she didn't see any in the distance, only the Brave blocking her view. Walking past it, Clem saw nothing moving at the intersection or beyond it. Devlin had said he hadn't seen any walkers on this side of the river in a long time, but Clem kept searching, just in case.

"Clem, take a look at this." Patty's words sent Clem rushing back to the woman's side. She had moved from watching walkers rushing over the bridge to standing by the edge and looking out north over the river. Clem inched up to the edge, then took a few steps back. "In the distance, I think I can see the ones from Anthony and Devlin's bridge."

Raising her binoculars, Clem spotted another broken bridge north on the river, and just south of it in the water was an uneven trail of what she could only assume were walkers floating downstream. It was hard to tell from this distance, the bodies appearing to be little more than black dots even with the binoculars, but there was no doubt they were floating towards their position, all the while more walkers tumbled off the bridge to join them.

"Devlin, why did you say your people never tried anything like this while you were waiting here?" asked a nervous Patty.

"A lot of reasons," he said. "For one, we didn't like the idea of clogging up the river with these damn things and sending them downstream to be someone else's problem, or polluting our best water supply with rotten meat. But according to you people, there isn't anyone left downriver, and I know there's no one left here needing water anymore but us."

"They seem to be piling up on the ones who sink," noted Sin.

"Yeah, we can see that too." Patty's words prompted Clem to look back to their bridge. Following a couple of walkers as they toppled off the edge, she noticed one of them didn't immediately sink to the bottom. The top of their feet briefly remaining above the surface of the river before falling forward into the water and beginning their trip downstream.

"That's another reason, these things don't drown, so the ones who sink just sit there, until someone is unlucky enough to walk past one of them," said Devlin. "After a nasty drought during the first summer caused the river to shrink, we had people go out to get water one morning, and found out the hard way that some of the infected who fell off the bridge were still waiting there, like fucking land mines that crawled out of the water."

Clem found herself unnerved by what Devlin had just said. When she fell into the river, her only thoughts were of trying not to drown, but seeing the dead pour into the water by the dozens forced her to think about how much more danger she could have been in. Just one of her feet brushing past a walker lying on the river bed could have killed her before she even knew it.

"Mostly, we just didn't have the manpower to deal with what's left," said Devlin. "I really hope this smell trick of yours works as well as you say it does. Even with all the infected we're drawing off now, there's going to be a plenty left waiting on the other side."

"Yeah, we don't doubt it."

Clem watched as the stream of dead continued to flow forward, not unlike the river they were throwing themselves into. Only after several minutes did the mob of dead thin out to just a few loose walkers wandering forward, prompting the group to coordinate another launch of rockets. More walkers came spilling forward in response, less densely packed this time, but still in great numbers as they plunged into the water a few at a time.

Clem divided her time between watching the walkers push forward over their side of the bridge and checking over her shoulder to make sure there weren't any approaching her side of the bridge. It was odd to her seeing walkers by the dozens on one side and empty roads on the other, as if the city had been split into two most common sights Clem had come to expect these days; death or nothingness.

Turning away from the road, Clem saw the walkers were already starting to wane, but only slightly as more kept arriving to replace their fallen kin. After several uneventful minutes of waiting for them to end, Patty fetched a deck of cards from the Brave and sat down to play a few hands of poker with Clem. Clem was grateful to spend some time with Patty, she just wished she wasn't so bad at poker.

"I'll take... three." Clem tossed some cards onto the pile and grabbed new ones from the top of the deck.

"Try not to hesitate," instructed Patty.

"Huh?"

"The way you paused between saying I'll and three cards. It gives away you're not sure about what you're doing, which makes me think you're weighing a couple of options, like you've got two pairs and you were trying to decide between keeping them or losing one to get more cards."

Clem frowned as Patty said that. "Is it that obvious?"

"It was an educated guess," said Patty with a shrug as she tossed out two cards before grabbing more from the deck. "When you get rid of three cards, it's usually because you've got a pair, and since you were thinking about it, I figured you might be deciding between trying for a full house on your next draw, or losing one pair hoping to turn the other into three or four of a kind."

"Well I didn't get either." Clem dropped her cards on the concrete.

"Don't just fold, you can still bluff with a bad hand."

"You always know," argued a defeated Clem.

"Not always, sometimes I bluff about knowing when you're bluffing."

Clem groaned as Patty smirked at her. "How do you do it?"

"I guess I got a lot of practice bickering with my dad. He was always riding my ass about one thing or another, which meant I had to get better at making excuses and looking innocent just to keep him at bay."

"My parents were really nice to me," said Clem as she found herself looking at another terrible hand. "I'll never learn to bluff."

"That's not true, you had me going when I first met you. I never thought for a second you and Sarah were alone in that old RV with a baby."

"That was before I knew you. I guess—"

"It's easier to lie to people who aren't your friend," concluded Patty.

"Yeah, it is…" Clem found her mind drifting after saying that. "How do you lie to me? I mean, you think I'm your friend, right?"

"Of course," said Patty with a smile. "And for you, it's not so much lying as just pretending like nothing is bothering me, like I don't care. I just kind of let the game happen and try to think about something else."

"Like what?"

"Just, boring crap that needs doing. A minute ago when we were playing, I was making a list in my head of stuff we'd need to give the Brave a proper tune-up. It keeps the game kind of distant so I don't look excited if I get a good hand. You could also wear sunglasses."

"Sunglasses?"

"Hide your eyes, make it harder for people to see what you're thinking."

"But you don't wear sunglasses."

"I used to when I was a little older than you," said Patty with a smile.

"All right, they're down to the single digits again," said Devlin. "I'm thinking we should do one more volley then move on to phase two."

"I agree," added Sin.

"Got it." The pair prepared another row of rockets, using up most of their remaining supply. Sarah counted down and they lit the fuses. Soon after another crowd of walkers arrived at the broken bridge. After briefly viewing more of them plummet to their doom, the pair resumed their game.

Clem tried Patty's technique of occupying her mind. She diverted her attention between watching for walkers approaching from their side while thinking about things they needed to be on the look out for. Most of their clothes were showing a lot of wear and tear, Omid was already beginning to outgrown his, and they had been so pre-occupied looking for food lately they hadn't time to look for things like shampoo, soap, or toothpaste.

As they played, Clem noticed she was starting to do better, winning a couple of hands in a row, but noticing that brought her attention back to game itself and she immediately returned to her losing streak. She tried distracting herself again, but between the cold and the distant moaning, she was finding it hard to concentrate on anything anymore, especially a game she wasn't particularly good at.

"I fold," she said.

"You—"

"I know, could bluff, but I think I'm tired of poker," admitted Clem as she tossed her hand onto the pile.

"Yeah, that's probably enough for today." Patty collected the cards and stuffed them into her pocket. "It looks like that's about it for the walkers, at least for now."

Clem looked over to the other side of the bridge, spotting only a couple of lone corpses idly stumbling across it. Moving closer to the edge, Clem saw there was now a long trail of floating bodies that ran the length of the river. There had to be at least a hundred of them, and looking to her right she saw the trail continued all the way from their bridge to the next one north of here, forming a river of dead inside the rest of the river.

Watching another walker fall off the bridge, Clem was surprised it hit not water, but a small island made of corpses. It was tiny, and its most recent visitor immediately slid off the twisted stack of mangled bodies and into the water, but just that there had been enough dead walkers to make a small land mass was disturbing in itself.

So were the many bodies drifting by as Clem got a closer look at them. There had been so many before she had never focused on a single one, but studying them now she could see many of them had snapped legs, broken arms, and necks that had been twisted into unnatural positions. Their badly mangled bodies should have a provided her with some small comfort, reassuring Clem they probably couldn't attack even if they drifted back onto land, but instead it just felt like a series of painful reminders of the fate she narrowly avoided after her own unfortunate plummet.

"I think we've lured about as many as we can off a cliff," reported Patty over the radio. "Everyone ready to move on to the next part?"

"Been ready for about an hour now," asserted Anthony.

"We've only been out here for an hour," reminded Patty.

"Exactly," said Anthony. "I'll take anything to break up all this sitting and watching."

"We ran out of walkers a few minutes ago," reported Sarah.

"We've scouted ahead to the rendezvous point on the other side of the river," added Sin. "It definitely looks like we can use it as a starting point to clear a path to the shopping center."

"We already killed the ones nearby, so as long as we're quiet it should give us time to get ready," said Sarah.

"Right, we'll be there in a minute." As Patty put her radio away, Clem spotted something approaching from the road.

"Look." Clem pointed at a walker clumsy lurching across the intersection and towards the bridge. It looked pitiful even for a walker, its clothes nearly rotted off its body and its face so deformed that Clem couldn't be sure if it was a man or a woman. Whatever it was, it moved very slowly, dragging one of its ankles as it walked. Clem briefly looked past it, expecting more following it, but it was alone.

"I'll take care of—"

"No." Clem removed her tomahawk from her shoulder. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure? I—"

"We're gonna have to kill a lot of walkers today, so I want to make sure I'm ready for it."

"All right, I'll be right behind you." Clem could feel Patty walking beside her, and heard the woman removing her machete from its sheath. Clem took that as her cue to unsheathe her tomahawk, taking a moment to admire its fine edge before adjusting her grip on it.

Despite having done this countless times before, including a few times as she and Patty had explored the outskirts of Tulsa, Clem felt a little nervous as she stepped forward to intercept the lone walker. She had her raincoat, Patty was right behind her, and this walker looked weaker and slower than most, and yet there was still a lingering fear slowly moving up her spine as she approached it, that constant reminder that a single mistake could kill her.

As it moved into arm's reach, Clem swung her tomahawk, slicing the rotting tendons just above the sorry corpse's broken ankle, causing it to collapse onto its side. Clem flipped the weapon over in her hand, then stepped forward to finish off her prey. The walker lay there, thrashing about hopelessly, snapping its deformed jaw full of broken teeth up until the moment Clem brought her tomahawk down on its skull. There was a loud cracking sound, followed by silence.

"You okay?" asked Patty as she moved beside Clem. "You looked kinda nervous."

"Is it that obvious?" asked Clem as she pried her tomahawk free.

"What's got you worried? It looks like you handled that one just fine."

"That one," repeated Clem. "Here's hoping I can do it a few hundred, or thousand more times."

Clem took one last look at the walker she killed, noticing it had long, dark hair. Their hair was stringy and filthy now, but whoever this was probably had beautiful hair before they died.

The pair returned to the Brave and Patty started driving them south. Clem took a moment to clean off her tomahawk, then proceeded to double check all their equipment. Their guns were fully loaded, the radios equipped with fresh batteries, and their raincoats still freshly coated in the stench of the dead from the preparations they made yesterday. Everything she could check was ready and in working order, yet Clem still felt anxious.

"Where you'd say we should turn off?" Clem heard Patty ask the radio.

"The first exit on the right," answered Jet. "Turn right at the end of the ramp and we'll be at the first intersection past it."

"And be careful," warned Devlin. "Most of the infected are a little further north from this position, and we probably drew a lot away from the area, but there could still be some nearby. The ones stuck in buildings probably didn't find their way out when they heard those bottle rockets."

"Don't worry, I'm keeping an eye out for them," reported Jet.

"And we'll be there in a minute to back you up." Patty put her radio down and Clem watched as they drove past the bridge they stopped at the day before yesterday. Just seeing it in passing made her shutter, and she was glad when it was out of sight. Not long after that they turned onto a different bridge, and looking ahead Clem saw that this one was still in one piece.

Looking out at the river as the drove over it, Clem could see more walkers floating downstream, along with a few stranded on a tiny island poking out above the water. Watching them shamble around made Clementine's mostly empty stomach crawl, and seeing dozens more wandering around close to the shoreline didn't help.

Moving a little further inland, the dead thinned out quickly, and Clem realized the gathering near the river was likely what's left of the walkers who went chasing bottle rockets. But occasionally, she could still spot the occasional stray on the road next to the highway, which kept Clem from ever feeling safe.

After a few minutes of drive time, they reached an off-ramp which Patty immediately turned onto. As they rolled downwards, Patty shifted the Brave into neutral and turned the engine off. They were now quietly rolling down the ramp and were less likely to attract attention, but Clem kept a vigilant watch from the windows anyway.

At the bottom of the ramp was an intersection, with the road left leading under the highway and the road right leading to another intersection where Clem could see the Sunseeker parked. After checking for threats from the windows, Patty removed the keys from the ignition and the pair headed back out. Clem felt a tightness in her chest as she moved towards the other RV, fearful that walkers weren't far. She couldn't see any nearby, yet their presence felt obvious to her just the same.

"You two okay?" Hearing Jet's voice over the radio prompted Clem to examine the Sunseeker more closely. Looking up, she almost immediately spotted the boy on top of the vehicle, waving at them.

"We're fine," answered Clem.

"Do you see anything from up there?" asked Patty in a hushed voice.

"Occasionally I can see a walker in the distance," he reported. "Sarah and Granddad already killed the ones nearby."

"And we could use a hand with the barbwire," added Sin.

"Be right there." Clem hurried along with Patty to the intersection and past the Sunseeker. There they found Sarah and Sin kneeling near a street light on the corner. As they neared the pair, they could see they were working together to wrap a spool of barbwire around the base of the light.

"How's it's coming?" asked Patty.

"We're pretty much done with this post," said Sin as Sarah passed him the spool of wire. "Help me carry this to the next light across the street."

"Got it." Patty carefully grabbed the spool's handle and the pair started slowly moving across the road, taking great care to unspool the wire behind them.

"Clem, come on," called Sarah. "We can get started on the other one."

"Coming." Clem eyed the ankle high barbwire running across the road and carefully stepped over it. She hurried after Sarah, following her to a different corner of the intersection where another spool was sitting. Sarah carefully wrapped the wire attached to it around the bottom of the lamppost, then removed a metal clip from her pocket. She quickly threaded the end of the wire through the clip, then attached the clip to the rest of wire to create a loop around the base of the streetlight, just as Devlin had instructed them.

"Okay, now let's wrap it around a few times and then we'll move onto the next one across the street," said Sarah as she passed the spool to Clem.

"Got it." Clem wrapped the barbwire around the post as far as she could, then Sarah took it and wrapped it as far as she could. After a few passes, Sarah moved the spool away from the post. Clem grabbed one side of the handle sticking out of the spool while Sarah held the other, and the pair started walking forward slowly into the road to unspool the wire.

"You said yesterday that Shaffer's did this, right?" asked Clem.

"Sorta, I saw some people there do something like this once," said Sarah. "Before they ever built the wall, I heard someone yelling one day and snuck out to see what was happening. These people pulled up to the parking lot in a truck, then two of them immediately tied a rope between a couple of trees on each side of the road. When some lurkers came up after them, most of them tripped over it."

"And then those people bashed their heads in," concluded Clem.

"Yep, and it looked easy too, probably because most of the lurkers were already on the ground."

"I still remember the look on Devlin's face when you told him that part," said Clem with a smirk. "He never thought how much easier things would be if they only ran barbwire just high enough for walkers to trip over."

"There were only like a dozen lurkers then," said Sarah. "I don't know how well this will work for more than that."

"I guess we'll find out."

Having reached the other side of the street, the pair stopped at the next lamppost and started wrapping the wire around it. They were making good progress, but Clem couldn't help but feel exposed every second they were outside. She still couldn't see walkers, but she knew they were out there somewhere.

"We're almost there," reported Devlin. "How y'all holding up?"

"We're working on setting up the barbwire," said Sarah.

"And there are no walkers close, but I see some a few blocks north of here," added Jet.

"Right, we're almost there. Stay alert."

Clem could hear the distant sound of an approaching truck now, which probably meant walkers could hear it as well. Like Patty had done earlier, the truck's engine shut off as it reached the off-ramp and coasted quietly downward, rolling to a stop near the Brave. As Clem and Sarah finished up with the barbwire, Devlin came rushing up to meet them.

"We can take it from here," he assured as he knelt down to take hold of the spool.

"Sin and I were going to fence in everything but the ramp to get back on the highway," explained Sarah as she removed a few clips from her pocket and handed them to Devlin. "That way if things go wrong, we can just drive out of here."

"Got it." Devlin turned around. "Anthony, give me a hand with this."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," said Anthony as he grabbed the spool.

"Why don't you two take a quick break?" suggested Devlin. "Might be a while before you'll get a chance to catch your breath again."

"Thanks, I had been wanting to check Omid," said Sarah as she took off towards the Sunseeker.

"Wait up." Clem ran after her friend and followed her to the entrance of Sin and Jet's RV. The door had been concealed by an odd tent like addition attached to the side of the vehicle. Looking carefully, Clem noticed there was a retractable awning deployed from the side of the vehicle, and hanging from it were cut up tarps forming primitive curtains. Moving in close, Clem noticed the fresh blood smeared across them.

"You think that will keep them from noticing us?" asked Clem.

"I hope so, it took me and Sin long enough to smear the lurker stuff on it," said Sarah as she gently pulled back one of the tarps. "Ugh, it was so gross."

Clem stepped inside and noticed the iron coat rack sitting by the door, just another piece of salvage they had discovered yesterday. Sarah hung up her raincoat and Clem tried to do the same, but her arm was just a few inches short of reaching the hook, much to her frustration.

"I've got it." Sarah grabbed the coat and hung it up for Clem, then the pair moved inside. The first thing they noticed was the sound of Omid crying. Clem exchanged a brief look of concern with Sarah, then they sprinted towards the bedroom together. Clem threw the door open and the pair found Omid sitting in the corner, crying to himself.

"Hey, don't cry," pleaded Clem as she removed her respirator and gloves. "We're here now and—"

"Nuh!" yelled Omid as he pulled away from Clem's grasp.

"Maybe he's hurt." Omid resisted Sarah as she tried to examine him, constantly pulling back whichever limb she tried to study.

"Nuh! Nuh!" repeated Omid every time Sarah touched him.

"Is he mad at us again?" wondered Clem.

"I put him down for a nap just before I went out to do the wire, that was like fifteen minutes ago at most," said Sarah.

"Come on OJ," pleaded Clem. "Be good, we just—"

"Ow-sah!"

"He wants to go out again," realized Clem.

"Now's really not a good time." Sarah quickly peeked out the window. "I guess we've got a minute before they finish with the barbwire. I'll go ahead to make sure it's safe and you can take him out for a few minutes."

"Got it." Sarah put her gloves and respirator back on while Clem moved in close to Omid.

"Come on OJ, you want to go outside?" Omid stopped sobbing, clearly recognizing that word. "Yeah, we'll go outside, you'll like that."

"Ow-sah," repeated Omid, sounding excited.

"Come on. Let's go out for a minute." Clem picked up the toddler and headed for the door, but stopped short of leaving. She looked at the crude curtains surrounding the space just outside the RV, hesitant to step forward until Sarah pulled back one of the tarps and motioned for Clem to come out.

"Here we go." Clem pinched Omid's nose to shield him from the rancid smell, then wished she had remembered to put her respirator back on as the horrid stench practically burnt her nostrils as she hurried past the curtains. Seeing Sarah standing watch in an intersection enclosed in barbwire gave Clem enough of a sense of security to ease her grip on Omid.

Looking at him, she saw Omid's eyes were wide open in astonishment as he gazed up at the sky. The sense of joy spreading across his face was so infectious that Clem couldn't stop herself from smiling as well. Quickly confirming there were no incoming threats, Clem gently sat Omid on the pavement, where he remained, spellbound by the sky.

He just continued to state up at the passing clouds for several minutes before he eventually stood up. Clem watch closely as Omid would move a few steps forward, then back suddenly as he tried to snatch clouds with his bare hands, only to pull back nothing every time. Clem wished she could enjoy watching Omid try to catch clouds, but all she could think about what was waiting just out of sight.

Anytime Omid wandered too far from the RV, Clem would have to pull him back. Omid didn't like this, and would loudly shout 'Nuh!' every time before resuming his sky gazing. Clem didn't like doing it either, but she had no choice as Omid seemed determined to wander further away from the RV each time. Eventually, he was moving right towards a piece of barbwire while looking straight up at the sky, forcing Clem to grab him with both hands, which just caused him to shout in protest this time.

"OJ, no," pleaded a desperate Clem.

"Nuh! Nuh!" refuted Omid as he tried to wriggle out of Clem's grip.

"Come on, let's take him back inside." Sarah hurried over to the tarp and pulled it back while Clem pinched Omid's nose again, a task made harder by his constant squirming. Clem placed the crying boy on the carpet while Sarah came in behind them.

"Now what?" asked Clem as she realized they were right back to where they started.

"I'll try to get him to settle down," said Sarah as she sat down beside a squealing Omid. "You go help the others, they should be ready by now."

"Okay." Clem slipped her gloves back on and grabbed her respirator when she noticed the coat rack of all things was trying to enter the RV. It fell forward onto the steps and rushing over to it, Clem found Jet outside trying to push it in. "Here, let me help." Clem grabbed the top of the coat rack and the pair carried it into the RV.

"Thanks. Jet closed the door behind him. "Granddad said they're about done with the barbwire, so I need to move the Sunseeker." Jet sat down in the driver's seat and started the engine. Watching the vehicle turn around, Clem noticed the lines of ankle high barbwire now enclosed three sides of the intersection. Jet turned the vehicle to only road still unblocked, revealing the barbwire extended back towards the highway, blocking off access to the underpass and the ramp they had taken to get here.

The only path left open was the narrow on-ramp leading back up to the highway, which Jet maneuvered the Sunseeker towards. He positioned the vehicle so it was aimed straight towards the ramp, then shut off the engine. Jet grabbed the coat rack, prompting Clem to grab the other end of it. They moved it back outside, then Jet moved to the nearest exterior compartment. He removed a pair of rain coats and handed one to Clem, which she put on, then he handed her a large piece of chalk.

Clem took the chalk and headed towards the on-ramp. She moved up to the barbwire and slowly wrote a large '8' on the asphalt. She then moved up to the intersection and wrote a '10' in front of the road on her left. As she headed for the part of the intersection facing north, Clementine paused as she looked out at the street ahead of her. They were far away, but Clem could see the shape of walkers moving about aimlessly in the distance.

"Hey." Clem looked over to see Jet standing next to her. "I saw them too, and I keep worrying they were going to come over here."

"They usually don't go anywhere unless they smell or hear something."

"What about if they see something?"

"I don't think they can see. If they do, they don't know what to look for."

"Granddad says it doesn't make sense they can smell," said Jet as he stared off at the walkers in the distance.

"Nothing about them makes sense," dismissed Clem.

"Yeah, but that means the stuff you know about them could be wrong." Looking over, Clem could see the uncertainty hiding behind Jet's eyes.

"It'll be okay," assured Clem as calmly as she could.

"I sure hope so." Jet knelt down and started drawing with this chalk, prompting Clem to do the same thing. Together, they wrote a big '12' across the pavement, then took a step back.

"Daylight's burning," crackled Devlin's voice from the radio. "We ready to do this?"

"The barbwire is finished," confirmed Patty.

"And I'm ready to knock some heads in," added an eager Anthony.

"I'll get what we need out of the RV," added Sin.

"And I'll be on top of it." Clem was surprised to hear Jet over the radio instead of next to her. Turning around, she discovered the boy had already raced back to the Sunseeker and returned to his position on the roof.

"Omid's still being a… pain," reported Sarah.

"Just stay in there," suggested Clem as she approached the Sunseeker. "One of us is supposed to stay inside anyway."

"Just be ready to hop in the driver's seat on a moment's notice," said Patty. "If this goes badly, we'll need to get out of here in a hurry."

"I will," said Sarah. "And I'll trade off with whoever needs a break first."

As Clem reached the Sunseeker, she could see Sin was removing a long roll of firecrackers from one of the exterior compartments. They had given it to him yesterday to hold onto, another souvenir from their trip to Alabama Fireworks World that they hadn't needed until today.

"Let's light this thing." Patty took the roll of fireworks from Sin.

"Sarah," said Clem into her radio. "Get ready to hold Omid's ears."

"Got it."

Patty unrolled the massive string of firecrackers in the middle of the intersection and Devlin knelt down to light them.

"Fire in the hole!" Devlin lit the firecrackers and everyone retreated back to the Sunseeker as the fuse burned down. Clem found herself instinctively removing her tomahawk from her shoulder, praying she was ready for what would come next. The fuse disappeared into the red paper encasing the firecrackers, and then nothing happened.

"You didn't keep your firecrackers in the outside bins did you?" asked Sin. "Because if they got wet in the flood, then—"

"No, we kept them all inside, along with the bottle rockets, and they worked," said Patty.

"Maybe it's a dud?" suggested Anthony.

"Or maybe it went bad," said Clem. "Maybe fireworks are like gas and—"

Clem was cut off by a series of deafening bangs that made her jump. The firecrackers had finally ignited and a series of tiny explosions were gradually tearing their way through the long strip of red paper laid out in the road. After the initial jolt brought on by the noise, Clem found herself growing more annoyed than anxious as she waited impatiently for the firecrackers to finish. After fifteen long seconds of non-stop explosions, the firecrackers were… about a quarter used up.

"Jesus, did you guys take the mother of all firecrackers!" yelled Anthony over the noise.

"We took them in case we ever needed a distraction!" yelled Patty back. "So we took the second biggest rolls in the shop because they'd make for really long distractions!"

"Let's just cut off a section from the roll next time!" suggested Sin.

"How bout right now!" Clem watched as Devlin removed a canteen from his waist and hurried over to the still erupting firecrackers. He poured water over a section of the strip just ahead of the explosions. The series of loud bangs were suddenly reduced to just a few stray pops.

"Oh thank God," said Patty, sounding out of breath, possibly from yelling.

Clem watched as Devlin removed a knife from his belt and knelt down to cut what remained of the firecrackers away from the section he soaked.

"Jesus, that was the second biggest?" asked Anthony.

"The biggest one was the size of a cake," informed Clem.

"Glad you guys didn't take that one," said Devlin as he rolled up what remained of the firecrackers. "We could probably cut what's left of this one into ten smaller strips, easy."

"And we still got two more full ones after that," noted Sin. "I think it's safe to say, we're well stocked on firecrackers for the moment."

"Hey!" Everyone turned in place and looked up to see Jet staring down at them from on top of the RV. "They're coming, a bunch of them, twelve o'clock!"

"Let's move with a purpose," said Devlin as he set the firecrackers down and removed a removed a nightstick from his belt while keeping a knife gripped in his right hand. Clem followed Devlin along with the others, removing the sheath from her tomahawk's head and placing it in her pocket as she took her place in front of the barbwire. "Kid," said Devlin into his radio. "Be sure to call out the infected as you see them."

"I will," answered Jet. "There's some moving in from two o'clock as well, but they're still far away."

"Let us know when they get closer," instructed Devlin. "And watch our flanks and six, the last thing we need is to get boxed in by these things."

"Got it," said Jet.

Clem watched anxiously as she spotted the walkers. The few flickering shapes she had seen in the distance before had grown into a steady march of withered corpses moaning softly as they drifted ever closer a few clumsy steps at a time. Seeing them approach wasn't what scared Clem, what scared her was that more walkers kept coming into view.

They moved very slowly, but this just made them more unnerving as it gave everyone plenty of time to behold their massive numbers. Every group of them was followed by more, and those followed by more still, until they had formed into a massive mob of deadly ghouls covering the length of the road, all marching towards where Clem and the others were standing, anxious to indulge their never-ending appetite for flesh.

"Jesus there's a lot of them…" Patty whispered under her breath, which prompted Clem to pick up her radio.

"Sarah."

"Yeah?"

"Be ready to drive, in case this doesn't work."

"I will."

"Don't bunch up," Devlin warned the others. "And be aware of your surroundings, we'll have enough to worry about without accidentally hitting each other."

"Why'd you look at me when you said that?" asked Anthony.

"I wasn't," assured Devlin.

"They're almost here." Sin's words brought everyone's attention back to the road. The first cluster of walkers had nearly reached the intersection, and everyone readied their weapons. There was a tense quiet amongst the group, allowing the noise of the dead's march to fill the air. That uneven shuffling that sounded like hundreds of slabs of meat being dragged over asphalt filled Clem with dread. The last time it had been this loud was when they were leaving Shaffer's, and this time they were standing right in front of a herd.

The first walker reached the intersection and snagged its foot on the wire as it stepped forward. There was a loud cracking as its head slammed into the pavement, followed by a louder cracking as Anthony brought his bat down on the bastard's head. It erupted like a ripe melon, sending flecks of blackened blood and bits of brain matter all across the pavement.

"First kill!" cheered Anthony before turning back to the road.

Three more walkers advanced; two tripped on the barbwire while the third managed to avoid it. Clem brought her tomahawk down on the nearest one's head, and Sin quickly eliminated the other one that tripped. Looking up, Clem watched as Devlin attacked the one still standing. The man swung a nightstick in one arm, smashing it across the walker's face with enough force to send it reeling in that direction. Devlin then pierced the walker's eye socket with his knife so quickly, Clem only knew what he had done when he pulled his arm back.

Devlin shoved the now lifeless corpse backwards and over the barbwire with a single mighty push. The body landed on the pavement in front of another walker, who tripped over it and fell face first onto the wire where Patty brought her machete down on it. Anthony kicked the corpse off the wire just in time for another handful of living dead to stumble forward.

Once again, most of them tripped, making them easy targets, and the ones who didn't were quickly dispatched and tossed out of the way just in time for the next set to approach and repeat the cycle. The initial sense of fear Clem had felt was quickly replaced with one of tedium. The raincoats the group wore rendered them invisible to the clueless would-be killers, and the increasing stack of bodies piling up eventually made the barbwire redundant, with walkers constantly tripping over their own fallen comrades.

"Walkers closing in on two o'clock," reported Jet over the radio. "There's also a few at six and ten o'clock, but not many and still far away."

"Me and Clem will handle it," announced Patty as she took a step back from the front line. "We'll call if we need help." Patty looked at Clem and a single nod was all the confirmation that was needed. The duo moved towards the right side of the intersection and readied themselves for the incoming walkers. Clem was relieved to see the walkers approaching from this street were fewer in number and spread out, but was annoyed to see the line of them extended into the horizon.

Much like before, the walkers usually tripped on the barbwire, making them easy to kill, and the few lucky enough to avoid the wire were taken down shortly after. The longer waits between walkers reaching the wire gave Clem more time to observe them. She noticed most of them looked even worse than walkers she had confronted in the past. Clothes so faded and torn they were little more than rags, spindly limbs whose flesh had been whittled away by the elements, and sunken faces that more closely resembled rotten masks ready to be ripped off their skulls.

After several dozen kills, Jet announced walkers were nearly at their six and ten o'clock positions. Devlin ordered Sin and Anthony to cover them, then swapped places with Patty and Clem, saying they could use a break. Initially, Clem didn't understand how covering the main road would be a break, but then she saw the roadblock of bodies that had formed on their twelve o'clock position.

Tackling walkers here became more of a test of patience than endurance. They would trip repeatedly just during their approach and many of them were reduced to crawling over a growing pile of corpses to get to the intersection, with some of them getting stuck along the way. Even if they navigated to the intersection, Patty and Clem would be ready to kill them. Each swing of Clem's tomahawk caused the pain in her right arm to grow a little more. At first, it was just a minor sting, then a constant soreness, then finally a particularly hard swing caused a stabbing pain to shoot up her arm.

"Ow!" Clem dropped her tomahawk and started rubbing her bicep.

"You okay?" Patty rushed over to Clem's side.

"It's just the bruise on my arm," assured Clem.

"Why don't you go take a break?" suggested Patty.

"I'll be okay," insisted Clem as she picked up her tomahawk. "I'll—ah!" Tightening her grip on the tomahawk sent another shooting pain up her arm.

"Go get some rest Clem." Looking around, Clem could see the others all still working to kill walkers in the distance, causing the girl to sigh. "They seem to be slowing down anyway."

Clem sighed. "Okay." The girl slowly slumped back to the Sunseeker. After moving past the curtains, she tried hanging up her raincoat, only for this to strain her already sore arm trying to reach the top of the coat rack. The coat fell onto the pavement and Clementine just shrugged as she headed inside the vehicle and towards the bedroom.

"Kem-men!" Immediately Clem felt Omid hugging her legs. "Muh-boo!"

"I love you too," assured Clem with a weak laugh. She moved to hug Omid, only to realize she was still holding the tomahawk.

"Are you okay?" asked Sarah as she took the weapon from Clem.

"Yeah, just tired," said Clem as she took off her gloves.

"I should go out and help then. I'm surprised they haven't needed help yet." Clem grimaced when she heard that. "I've been watching from the windows; there's so many of them."

"Yeah…" said Clem as she knelt down to hug Omid, wincing a little from the soreness of her bruises.

"But it looks like it's working," said Sarah, sounding enthusiastic.

"How far away is the shopping center?"

"I think fives miles." Clem sighed. "You rest, I'll go help the others." Sarah carried the tomahawk out while Omid walked over to pick up something seated in the corner.

"El-muh!" he said as he held out the stuffed elephant.

"Yeah, I see her." Clem slipped her shoes off and collapsed onto the bed. It was a great relief to get off her feet, but it sadly didn't last. Omid refused to be ignored, so Clementine was forced to find ways to keep him happy. Making Elma dance, doing faces, tickling him, all done for the benefit of keeping Omid entertained. After what felt like an eternity, Omid became as tired as Clem felt and she was able to lull him to sleep with a little rocking.

After tucking the boy into the makeshift crib Sarah had created out of drawer and some blankets, Clem decided to briefly check outside. Jet had made a few announcements a while ago but had been silent since then, and Clem couldn't see much from the windows. Heading out and grabbing her raincoat, Clem was shocked by the massive stacks of dead bodies that had accumulated in every direction she looked.

Twelve o'clock's barbwire was gone now and had been replaced with what was effectively a short wall made out of dead walkers; it would look right at place outside of Crawford. Ten and two featured uneven mounds of bodies that could probably become walls themselves with enough time and corpses. Even the roads near the highway were littered with dead walkers that must have numbered well over a hundred, and loose bodies littered the intersection in every direction Clem looked. Even breathing through her respirator, Clem still got a faint whiff of the overwhelming stench polluting the air, and it made her feel a little like gagging.

"Are you okay?" Clem looked over to see Sarah rushing up to meet her.

"Yeah, I got OJ to take a nap and came out to get some fresh air." Clem looked out at the piles of bodies again. "I think I picked a bad time to do that."

"There's a few more off in the distance at twelve o'clock," announced Jet over the radio. "I can't find any more though, even with my binoculars."

"A hundred and three!" Turning her head, Clem watched as Anthony smashed a walker's head in as it leaned over the wall of bodies. The bat caved in its skull and the corpse fell dead onto the barricade, becoming just another brick in the wall. "How many did you kill?"

"Too many," said Devlin to himself as he shook his head. "I remember them being a lot harder to kill than this."

"The raincoats make all the difference," said Anthony.

"Yeah, it's like they don't even know we're here when we wear these," realized Devlin, as if he didn't believe what he was saying. "But… but it's more than that. I swear, I used to have to hit a lot harder to put these things down. Some of them didn't even need the knife, the nightstick was enough."

"I noticed that too," said Clem as she took a step forward. "The first walker I killed I had to hit a bunch of times in the head. I was smaller then, but I still remember it was much harder to kill one than it is now."

"They're immortal, but not invincible," stated Sin as he and Patty joined the group. "Their injuries never heal, not as far as we know, so every blow and every fall they take weakens them, permanently."

"The weather probably doesn't help either," added Patty. "Spending months outside in the rain, snow, wind, everything; it's gotta take a toll on them after a while. A lot of them looked ready to fall over without our help."

"Wonder how long it'll take until they just finally die on their own," asked Jet from on top of the RV.

"They don't need sleep, or even need to eat even though they want to," noted Sarah. "But they're stupid, and do things that hurt themselves. I saw that some of the lurkers didn't even get back up after they tripped, like they broke their neck. They'd probably just kill themselves chasing things like thunderstorms eventually."

"Yeah, eventually," said Anthony as he wiped the blood off his bat. "But that ain't happening today."

"I can't believe we killed so many though," awed Clem as she continued to study the piles upon piles of bodies. "We probably could have killed all the walkers in Titusville had we thought of this then."

"There were only three of us then," reminded Sarah. "And we've still got a while to go before we get to the shopping center."

"All right then," said Devlin as he removed his gas mask and took a deep breath. "So far the plan is working; we've cleared out most of the infected in earshot of this intersection. I was thinking we take a quick rest then move up to our next target; any objections?"

Sarah, reluctantly, raised her hand.

"What's your objection?" Devlin asked her.

"Well… I… I wasn't objecting," stuttered Sarah. "But I was thinking, for the next area, we should use more barbwire. Run a couple of lines at different heights, that way it's harder for them to avoid it, and also add some barbwire further back from the intersection. It takes them a while to get back up and some of them don't get back up at all."

"That's good thinking, we'll do that. Anyone else with a suggestion?" No response from the rest of the group. "All right, I'll keep watch for stragglers while everyone takes fifteen, after that we'll move out."

"So he's in charge now?" mumbled Anthony as Devlin moved away from the group.

"He asked if you had objections," reminded Sin in-between breaths. "Do you?"

"No, but—"

"Then save your breath," suggested Sin as he staggered towards the Sunseeker. "You'll need it."

Since Omid was still in the bedroom, Clem followed Sin inside, Jet and Sarah coming up behind her as she removed her raincoat. As they all went in, the first thing they noticed was Sin sitting on the couch, rubbing his hands while taking slow breaths.

"Are you okay?" asked Jet as he approached his grandfather.

"I'm fine." Clem noticed Sin suddenly stopped rubbing his hands, as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

"No you're not." Jet's insistence was only answered by a silent stare from his grandfather. "At the next intersection, I'll kill the walkers and you can be on lookout, that way you can rest."

"No, I can handle this," insisted Sin. "You don't need to worry about—"

"I am worried about you." Again, Sin just stared at Jet in response, as if he couldn't think of a retort. "You're the one who keeps telling me these are hard times, and I have to be strong."

"We all have to be strong," corrected Sin. "That includes me."

"Nobody is strong all the time," argued Clem.

"And you won't be strong if you give yourself a heart attack." Sin's eyes narrowed slightly upon hearing that.

"Me and Clem can stay with Jet to help him," assured Sarah. "I know it's scary, but the smell, or whatever it is, means they don't even know we're there."

Sin let out a long sigh, then fiddled with something attached to his belt. "Here." Sin handed Jet a small machete that was still holstered in its nylon sheath. "And I suppose one of you should take this too." Sin shifted in place and removed something clipped to his belt.

Everyone looked at the grenade in the man's hand for a moment, possibly weighing the responsibility or danger it represented. Seeing the hesitation on Jet and Sarah's faces, Clem took the grenade for herself, even though she didn't want it. It felt strange holding something so deadly in the palm of her hand. Clem quickly but carefully secured it, using the safety handle as a belt clip to slid it into place near her holster.

"I'm gonna lie down for a while," said Sin, exhaustion hanging in his voice as he slowly stood up. "Come get me if I'm needed for anything."

"Be careful not to wake up Omid," cautioned Clem.

"I will." Sin disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Clem alone with Jet and Sarah. Turning to Jet, she noticed the boy had a nervous look on his face as he removed the machete from its sheath. It was much different from the one Patty and Sarah shared, appearing more like a long and curved knife that got very thick in the middle, almost like the blade had a fat belly.

"I guess if you two can do this, so can I," said Jet, sounding unsure.

The fifteen-minute break came and went in the blink of an eye. All anyone had any time for was getting some water and a little bit to eat before Devlin was calling for them to pack up and move out. Checking on Omid before they returned to the road, Clem was surprised to see not only was he still asleep, Sin was as well.

Being a grandfather, Clem knew he had to be much older than the rest of them, but he never really appeared elderly to her until just now. The look of exhaustion on his face that persisted even after falling asleep and the small wrinkles on his hand that made it look like the skin had been pulled a little too tight all made the normally tall and proud man look quite frail.

Clem was about to close the door when she remembered Jet's comment about Sin having a heart attack. Looking at the man, then eyeing Omid still asleep next to the bed in his crib, she suddenly had a horrible thought of Sin dying, then coming back and eating Omid. She found herself instinctively moving forward to collect the boy, but stopped herself from going through with it. Instead, she turned to Sin, then gently pulled the blanket over his shoulders before returning to the front.

The group was soon on the road again, maneuvering through an opening in the bodies Devlin had cleared and heading north a few blocks before turning west. The fast food restaurants, single story offices, and other signs of the city outskirts very quickly faded away and were replaced with trees and open land, as if they had taken a wrong turn back into the country.

One thing that didn't change was Clem could see walkers through the window. Few in number and always distant, but they were there, a constant reminder of all the other ones waiting just out of sight. Devlin and Anthony must have noticed them as well since their truck came to a stop not long after Clem wondered if they were moving too deep into unknown territory.

The two men emerged from their truck with their weapons at the ready, prompting Clem to do likewise. Jet had driven slowly so as not to disturb the tarps hanging from the vehicle's awning, meaning they had a safe spot to get ready. Clem, Jet and Sarah moved the coatrack back outside into the tented area and retrieved their raincoats and a spool of barbwire. Patty emerged from the Brave right behind them and grabbed one of the spools and before long everyone was working to booby trap the area.

This intersection was more isolated than the other, with the group having to use phone poles to run the wire since there were no lampposts here, and the only building actually at the intersection itself was a single small gas station. Behind it was a row of houses leading north into the horizon, but beyond that was just open land in every other direction they looked. This made spotting incoming threats easier but made it harder to implement Sarah's idea of additional wires, forcing the group to use street signs, fence posts, and anything else anchored beside the road.

All the time they were working, Clem was still afraid of being attacked. Like before, she occasionally spotted a walker off in the distance, but the only ones that ever got close to them were swiftly killed by Anthony shortly after arriving, and no others drifted closer without provocation. Despite this, Clem worked to finish their defenses as quickly as possible, always fearful of what she couldn't see.

With the preparations nearly done, Clem noticed Patty was struggling to keep pace with the others, hunched over as she moved slowly from task to task. Realizing she had worked through the previous attack with no break except for the one they all received, Clem conferred with Sarah and they both approached Patty with the suggestion of her watching Omid while the others fought this time. She was resistant, but only briefly before accepting the offer. After putting the last of the barbwire up, all three of them returned to the Sunseeker.

"I really appreciate this, seriously," professed a weary Patty as she removed her shotgun and machete before hanging up her raincoat.

"It's okay," assured Sarah as she took the machete for herself. "I didn't even have to kill many of them at the first stop, so I'm not tired yet."

"And my arm is feeling better," added Clem as they stepped inside.

"Just come tag me in the second anyone needs a break, I'll—"

The sound of Omid screaming sent everyone racing towards the bedroom. Throwing the door open, they found Omid trying to pull away from Sin with all his might.

"Mah! Mah!" chanted a determined Omid as he kept trying to yank the sock out of Sin's hand.

"He woke up," said Sin, a bored look etched onto his face.

"Well good news, I can take over as babysitter," said Patty as she entered the room. "We're just about ready to get started."

"You already put up the barbwire?" Clem nodded at Sin. "I guess I should get up top." Sin let go of the sock and Omid fell backwards onto the ground.

"Mah-bah!" he declared as he crawled away with the sock in hand.

Heading back out, everyone assumed their positions as Devlin readied more firecrackers. He used his knife to cut off a section from the big roll and positioned it in the middle of the road. Inching closer to Jet as Devlin grabbed his lighter, Clem could sense the boy's anxiety. The machete was trembling in his hands and even with the respirator on, Clem could tell he was breathing heavily.

"They're slow, you're not," whispered Clem. "And they're stupid, but you're not."

"There's hundreds of them, and only a few of us," whispered Jet back. "And they only have to bite us once to kill us."

"And we know that," argued Clem. "That's why we're wearing these raincoats and why we put up barbwire, that's how we killed hundreds of them at the last intersection."

"Yeah, you're right, it's just…"

"Scary, I know," assured Clem. "The first time I had to—"

Clem was cut off by the firecrackers, which once again filled the air with the deafening sound of a hundred tiny but loud explosions. Thankfully, they only lasted about ten seconds this time, and as the air cleared everyone heard their first update over the radio.

"I can see a large number of them approaching from twelve and nine o'clock," reported Sin. "None elsewhere yet."

"All right, Anthony take her and cover nine o'clock," said Devlin as he gestured to Sarah. "I'll take twelve with them." Clem and Jet stepped forward as soon as they saw Devlin looking at them, taking up position beside the man. It wasn't long until Clem could see another mob of walkers approaching slowly from the front. She tightened her grip on the tomahawk and waited anxiously as they gradually grew nearer.

Before they could actually reach the intersection, the walkers at the front of the mob had to navigate past the additional two lines of barbwire that the group had placed in the road. It was actually comical watching them fall on their face, struggle to get back up, then trip over the next wire. One hit the pavement mouth first, shattering most of its already rotten looking teeth. Another managed to put its arms out as it fell, but instead of breaking the walkers fall, the fall snapped its arm in half instead.

The first walker to finally reach the intersection already had its face caved in from the previous falls, and the second it tripped over the final wire Jet brought his machete down on the back of its head with a sudden and violent swing. There was a sickly cracking sound as the blade broke through the skull, followed by a by pitiful final moan.

"See," said Clem. "You can do it."

"Yeah, I guess so." Jet tried pulling his machete free, but it remained stuck in the walker's skull, and his attempts to free it just moved the corpse instead. Clem put her foot down on the dead walker's skull, which finally allowed Jet to pull the machete out. "Ugh, this is so gross," said Jet as he looked at pieces of sticky and rotten flesh clinging to the blade.

"I know," said Clem. "Before we used raincoats, we just used to put that stuff on our clothes."

"Ugh," said Jet as he shook off the bits of flesh. "I don't know how you did it."

"Most of the time, I was too scared to even think about it," she admitted.

Defending the second intersection went mostly the same as the first, except it was made easier by the extra layers of barbwire that helped to mediate the influx of dead. The injuries brought on by repeated falls made them easier to kill, while others just died from smashing their head on the hard asphalt too many times. Even the lucky few who managed to avoid the wires would usually arrive at the intersection alone and would meet a hasty end from whoever was in arm's reach.

After killing a couple dozen walkers, Clem's arm started bothering her again. It wasn't just the bruise this time, her shoulder was getting sore from swinging her tomahawk so much. After finishing off a couple more walkers, Clem looked for assistance in dealing with the next approaching group. Devlin had been called off to defend their six o'clock, but Jet was supposed to be helping Clem with their twelve. Looking around, she found the boy desperately trying to remove his machete from a downed walker's skull.

"Jet," said Clem. "Do…"

"I'll be right there," he insisted as he placed his foot on the corpse's head. Clem turned around to see a couple more walkers nearing the intersection. One tripped and Clem brought her tomahawk down on its skull while the other managed to shamble over the wire. Turning back to Jet, Clem watched as he grabbed the blade with both hands and kicked off the walker's skull. The machete came out with a sudden jerk and Jet let out a cry of pain as he fell backwards onto the pavement.

As the boy tried to stand, Clem noticed the walker suddenly lurched forward at Jet, prompting him to rush backwards towards the Sunseeker. The walker chased after Jet, hissing loudly as Clem dropped her tomahawk. Jet tripped over his own feet as he tried to back away just as the hungry beast charged forward. Two quick shots sliced through the side of the walker's head and its now lifeless body collapsed onto Jet as Clem holstered her pistol.

"What was that?" asked Devlin over the radio while Clementine rushed to Jet's side.

"Are you okay?" asked Clem as she helped to pull the walker off of him.

"I… I think so," said Jet, his voice still gripped in fear. "Thanks."

As Jet stood up, Clem noticed blood dripping from his right hand.

"Somebody, answer me, what was that shot?" asked Devlin.

"I shot a walker that attacked Jet," reported Clem.

"What?" asked a startled Sin. "Why?"

Clem watched anxiously as Jet removed the glove on his hand, revealing a clean slice running across his palm. Looking carefully, Clem didn't see anything that even remotely resembled teeth marks.

"He cut his hand and the walker smelled the blood, but he's okay." Clem breathed a slight sigh of relief as she put the radio down, only to notice Jet still appeared disturbed. "You are okay, right? It didn't—"

"No, it didn't bite me," assured a still distressed Jet.

"And when it fell, its teeth didn't touch you or—"

"Its head landed on the pavement next to me."

"Good, then—"

Jet rushed into the Sunseeker, leaving Clem to wonder what to do next. Looking at the road she was covering, the stream of walkers had slowed to a crawl and probably any one person could handle it. She then noticed the dropped machete and Jet's glove. Thinking it best not to leave something covered in fresh blood around, Clem grabbed both. As she looked up, she saw Sin moving towards where she was standing.

"Where's Jet?" he asked, unable to conceal the fear in his voice.

"Inside," answered Clem. "I was about to go—"

A loud crack sounded and Clem turned around in time to see a couple of walkers tripping into the intersection.

"Dammit," swore Sin under his breath. "Take care of them, I'll go check on Jet."

"My shoulder really hurts." Clem's words halted Sin mid-stride as he tried to enter the RV. "I can check on Jet for you, if you just—"

Spin spun around, walked back to Clem and held out his hand. Seeing a bit of Jet's blood still on the machete, Clem handed the man her tomahawk instead.

"If there's anything wrong I'll tell you," promised Clem.

"Thank you." Sin rushed past Clem and immediately swung at the nearest walker. He nearly cleaved its head clean off its body, then spun around and jammed the tomahawk's blade right through another walker's face with a surprising burst of speed. Seeing that Sin was sufficiently motivated to kill walkers now, Clem headed into the RV. The first thing she noticed was Patty, who was staring at the bathroom door.

"So what happened?" she asked. "I heard you say Jet cut his hand, then he barged into the bathroom without a word and won't answer me."

"I'll talk to him," said Clem. "Could you keep watch? Sin had to take over twelve o'clock for me."

"Sure thing partner, I'm feeling good and rested anyway." Patty hurried out of the RV, leaving Clem alone outside the bathroom door. Listening closely, she heard Jet groaning in pain inside, which prompted her to knock first. After receiving no answer, Clem cracked the door open. Peeking inside, she saw Jet wincing in pain as blood and water was dripping into the sink from his hand.

"Let me help you," said Clem as she stepped inside.

"I'll do it myself," insisted Jet as he turned away from Clem. "I should at least be able to do that after you had to save me."

"Are you mad at me because I saved you?"

"No… I'm mad at myself." Clem watched as Jet hung his head in shame and clenched his hand shut, as if he was refusing her help. "I'll be okay. I'm pretty sure I can't screw this up."

Clem felt sorry for Jet, having known the painful sting of failure too many times herself. She tried to think of something to say, but then got another idea. Clem rolled up her left sleeve and held out her arm so Jet could see the large faded scar on it.

"How did you get that?" he asked.

"A dog bit me, hard," said Clem.

"A dog?"

"Yeah, I saw one in the woods one day. It walked right up to me and I started petting it, not even thinking it could ever bite me," sighed Clem as she pulled her sleeve back down. "Someone had to give me stitches because of that. If I hadn't let them help me, I probably would have bled to death or gotten an infection. "

"I don't think this is as bad as that." Jet sighed. "But I get the point." Jet opened his hand and Clem grabbed a clean washcloth from the counter and a bottle of alcohol from the cabinet.

"This will hurt," warned Clem as she dabbed the cloth with alcohol.

"Hopefully not as much as cutting my hand like an idiot." Clem started cleaning Jet's injury with the washcloth, prompting the boy to wince in pain again. "I feel so stupid."

"It's okay, we all make mistakes. I've made a ton of stupid mistakes, just ask Sarah."

Jet let out a weak laugh. "She'd just say you're the most amazing person she's ever met."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because that's what she wrote in her diary."

Clem turned to Jet suddenly. "You read her diary?"

"Yeah, I was asking her about where you two had been and she mentioned she was trying to write it all down in a diary, and when I asked her if I could read it, she said yes."

"Oh…" Clem was surprised to hear that, wondering what else Sarah and Jet had discussed while she wasn't around.

"I think it's clean now," said Jet.

"Huh, oh, right." Clem set the washcloth aside and grabbed a bandage.

"I told her she should write more, but she says she hasn't had much time lately with everything that's happened."

"How much has she has written?" asked Clem, genuinely curious to how far Sarah had progressed since she last read her diary.

"The last thing I read was when she met you for the first time. She wrote, 'I didn't know it right then, but I'd find out later that Clementine was actually the most amazing person I've ever met in my entire life."

"She… she wrote that about me?" asked Clem as she applied the bandage.

"Yeah, well—"

Sin burst into the bathroom suddenly, eyes overflowing with fear and concern.

"I thought—"

"Patty agreed to cover for me," said Sin as he marched right up to Jet. "Are you—"

"I'm all right," assured Jet.

"You weren't—"

"He wasn't bitten," answered Clem.

"It's just a cut, and the walker smelled the blood," recapped Jet as Sin knelt down to examine the boy's hand.

"How did you cut yourself?" asked Sin in a stern voice.

"On the machete."

"The same one you were using to kill walkers?" asked Sin, sounding concerned.

"We disinfected the cut," said Clem.

"Was the blade covered in their blood?" Sin asked Jet.

"Probably, I had been using it all morning, why?" Jet's eyes widened in panic as he realized why Sin asked him that. "You think that infected me?"

"It doesn't work like that," assured Clem. "Only bites do that."

"You're sure?" asked a dubious Sin.

"Pretty sure," said Clem.

"Pretty?" repeated a frightened Jet.

"I've covered myself in their stuff more than once, and have been putting in on raincoats for a long time."

"But have you ever gotten any on an open cut?"

"No, but—"

"Oh God…" muttered a panicking Jet.

"But I got it in my mouth once." Both Jet and Sin turned to Clem. "I had a cold and didn't want walkers to hear me coughing, so I covered my mouth. There was still a lot of their… whatever on my hands, and I tasted it."

"But you were okay?" asked Jet.

"I threw up, and I got really sick later and passed out, but I think that was because I was already really sick. But, I didn't die, obviously."

Jet and Sin breathed a sigh of relief almost in sync with each other.

"Thank God," said Jet.

"You need to be more careful," lectured Sin. "How did you even cut your hand on the machete in the first place?"

"I—"

"It was getting stuck a lot," said Clem. "It's probably dull."

"It cut right through my glove," reminded Jet.

"Yeah, near the handle, but you hit the walkers with the end of it, that part is probably dull. When's the last time you sharpened it?"

"Sharpened it?" asked Jet.

"We… we never taught you how to do that," realized Clem. "And… we should have given you a gun too, so you could have killed that walker if you couldn't use your machete."

"I thought you said you didn't have any more guns," said Sin.

"I just remembered, we have my ankle gun. We could have given Jet that." An awkward silence followed as Clem dwelled on her own mistake.

"Somebody report," said Devlin. "We're short-handed and it looks like we're missing our lookout."

"We're okay," said Clem as she picked up her radio.

"And I'll be right out," added Sin. "Jet, stay here and—"

"But—"

"You hurt your hand, and I'm feeling better. Rest for now, please."

"Oh… okay." Clem noticed Sin didn't have her tomahawk; he had likely given it to Patty when they swapped places. Thinking it was better than no weapon, she handed Sin the machete and he left the bathroom.

"Thanks," said Jet.

"For what?" asked Clem.

"Saying it was the machete's fault, and not mine."

"It probably was, it was getting stuck. If anything, it's more my fault for not giving you a gun or teaching you to sharpen things." One look at Jet made it clear he still blamed himself. "I've done so many stupid things. The first time we tried getting bullets, I told Sarah to just park us right next to the gun shop that was surrounded by walkers. We just ran in there, then I spilled a box of bullets and had to shoot a walker, and then they all started coming in. I almost got me, Sarah and OJ killed because I was stupid."

"OJ?"

"Without me and Sarah, he would have starved to death."

"But what about Patty and Anthony?"

"We hadn't met them yet."

"Oh…"

"Kem-men!" called Omid as he came stumbling into the bathroom.

"I'm here, don't cry," assured Clem as she knelt down to pick up the toddler.

"Kem-men," repeated Omid as she picked him up.

"You want me to look after him?" asked Jet.

"I guess you'll have to," reasoned Clem.

"Not necessarily, I could go out and you could stay in."

"But your Granddad said—"

"I can rest on top of the RV and keep watch, that's not hard."

"Well, I could use a break."

"Great." Jet smiled at Clem, which made her smile a little. Jet returned to his position as lookout while Clem carried Omid back to the bedroom, where she soon discovered he needed changing. Despite that, she enjoyed her time with Omid. Looking after him was work, but work she liked a lot more than killing walkers all day. Clem actually began to feel a tinge of guilt for remaining inside so long, and was grateful when Sarah came into the RV desperate for a break.

Heading out, it's clear the bulk of the walkers had been killed by now. There were once again whole mounds of bodies piled up in every direction except for the road they drove in on, which only had a few scant corpses. Looking at twelve o'clock, Clem could see the line of walkers had been spread thin now, and killing what remained was largely a matter of patience. After trading Sarah's machete to Patty for the tomahawk, Clem took up position at twelve o'clock and waited.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky and chased away the chilly morning, Clem found herself annoyed by the relatively sweltering heat. The raincoat, the respirator, even her hat all felt suffocating after a while and it was hard to wipe away sweat when you were wearing gloves partially caked in dried blood and rotten flesh. The piles of bodies had reached a point where what few walkers who remained had to crawl over all those who failed before them just to be easily killed like all the others.

"Two hundred… and twelve!" announced Anthony as he brought his bat down on a walker trying to climb over the pile of corpses at nine o'clock. "It's got… to be… a world record. Most kills… in a single day," said the young man in-between deep breaths. "Clem… how many… did you get?"

"I don't know, a lot," she shrugged before noticing a walker climbing over the twelve o'clock wall of bodies.

"You people… really need to start keeping count." Clementine brought her tomahawk down on the walker's head and killed it. Only as she removed her blade did she notice this walker was a child, a girl that didn't look much older than her. A closer examination revealed large bullet wounds running down both sides of her body. What Clem didn't know if those were there before or after the girl turned into a walker. She assumed after, but only because the image of a little girl being gunned down disturbed her more. "Seriously, it's not fun having the high score if I'm the only one playing."

"Maybe the rest of us don't find this fun," retorted Clem as she walked away from the other girl's corpse.

"Oh come, you guys are always telling me they're not people anymore," said Anthony as he followed after Clem.

"They used to be," Clem said under her breath as she moved towards Devlin and Sin, who were dealing with a couple of walkers at six o'clock. Sin killed one of them as another came tumbling over the small mound of bodies. Devlin raised up his knife, but hesitated to strike.

"What is it?" asked Clem as she approached. "Why…"

Looking down, she saw the walker Devlin hadn't killed was a soldier. They were still wearing a large vest lined with pockets and a thick helmet. Who they were was a mystery, their face had been gnawed down to just a flailing skull held together with the thinest strips of rotten skin. The lower jaw, eyes, and tongue were all missing, and as they reached out their arms, Clem could see their hands were gone. The walker thrashed out at the air with its rotten stumps as its head swiveled back and forth on what remained of its severely gnarled neck.

"Friend of—"

Devlin angrily hammered the walker's head with his nightstick, over and over again, smashing it against the corpse's helmet repeatedly until he finally kicked the head with such force that it knocked it clean off the walker's shoulders and sent it flying across the area.

"So… not a friend," concluded Anthony.

"He's one of the OKC fuckers!" growled Devlin in a way that frightened Clem. "Thought we got all the bastards, but I guess this dumbass got himself eaten before we could shoot him. I hope it was painful you piece of shit!" Devlin kicked the corpse so hard it rolled over onto its back, revealing a rifle still attached to it.

"Well, at least that's one thing this fucker did for someone else." Devlin used his knife to cut off the shoulder strap and then grabbed the rifle. He unloaded and checked the magazine, then rolled the corpse back onto its back. Searching the pockets, Devlin retrieved a couple magazines and stood up. "Let's finish up and get out of here already."

Clem moved over to the soldier's decapitated head, which had rolled out of its helmet after being kicked. She noticed a bit of flesh near its scalp was twitching slightly, suggesting it was still alive, for the lack of a better word. But it was helpless now, its lower jaw and tongue was gone, and Devlin had broken most of the teeth connected to its upper jaw, all it could do is lay there and twitch, so Clem raised her tomahawk into the air and prepared to finish it off.

"Leave him!" ordered Devlin. "He deserves to rot." Clem felt intimidated by the man's stern order, but then he turned away and left her and the others alone to observe the severed head.

"You think if we took his teeth, and cut someone with them, it'd kill them?" asked Anthony

"What?" said Sin.

"I mean, it's bites that kill people, which means it must be something in their teeth right? Like rabies?"

"Rabies isn't spread by bites specifically, it's actually in the salvia." Sin looked down at the head. "I don't think these things salivate anymore."

"Which mean it's in the teeth." Anthony stared down at the head. "Or maybe it's in all the bones."

"That doesn't make much sense, then again, most of what we know about these things doesn't make sense. I suppose it could be something in their bones, reacting to the calcium. If we come back as them no matter how we die, perhaps whatever it is actually triggers the transformation early, and killing us is just a side-effect."

"If you took a femur, and sharpened it into a knife, it'd be like a poison blade that could kill people just by scratching them," realized Anthony.

"Assuming it is something in the bone, and not some other bizarre form of transmission," speculated Sin. "For all we know—"

Clem drove her tomahawk down into the walker's eye socket, finally killing it. "I think we've learned enough about walkers for today," she said as she walked off. "I want to get out of here too."

As it well past noon at this point, everyone stopped to eat lunch after they moved the vehicles away from the intersection. Clem returned to the Brave with Sarah, Omid and Patty for a while to enjoy some time together in their home. But other than Omid loudly demanding something to eat, there was little conversation between the group.

Part of it may have been fatigue setting in from their ongoing task, of which they were only half done, but in any case, none of them felt much like talking right now. Their meal didn't help either. They could only stomach a few canned chili peppers before it made them sick and Clem didn't even want to know what the substance in the can labeled 'tongues' was made out of. Trying to chew her way through that slimy stuff was a miserable enough experience without dwelling on it.

It was so bad, they didn't even offer any of it to Omid. Instead, Sarah took out the can of a corn she had saved from the Sunseeker. It was already half empty from feeding Omid breakfast, and by the time she was done giving him lunch it was completely empty. Their stomachs half empty and half full of things making them sick, the group elected to partake in the jam Winnie had left them. They each took only a spoonful, but spreading that decadently sweet sticky goodness across Clem's tongue was almost enough to make her forget about the rest of their awful meal.

After lunch, the group readied themselves for their next stop. Clem took some time to sharpen Sin and Jet's machete, as well clean off the blood from the rest of their weapons. While she was doing that, Patty retrieved Clem's ankle gun and gave it to Jet, double checking to make sure he knew how to use it properly, as well as apologizing for it being pink, to which Jet said he didn't care. Sarah was preoccupied with Omid's care, tending to his needs and giving him another short taste of the outside world before relocating him back to the Sunseeker for safe keeping.

After that, the group set out for their next destination. They went north for a couple of blocks then turned west until the road became a small bridge running over a four-lane highway. Clem could see walkers both north and south nearby, mostly off in the distance but a few ambling close to the overpass they parked just short of. Everyone got to work, but the geography made preparations more difficult this time.

They could easily run wires through the underpass to create a southern choke point, but the wide open road made it hard to reinforce their northern position. The group clumsily zig-zagged the barbwire between guardrails, abandoned cars, road signs, and anything else they could find to create obstacles for the walkers.

After that was the challenge of blocking walkers coming down the hill to the west of the road. A guardrail running alongside it created one barrier, and running wires from a road sign to the opposite ends of the rail created one more, but there was nothing left they could use to erect further hindrances for the walkers. The east side was left open, both as an escape route and because they had likely killed most of the walkers from that direction at their last stop.

With every reasonable precaution they could take, everyone took their positions before setting off another strip of firecrackers. As before, walkers came slowly pouring into the area, mostly from the north and south, but occasionally stumbling down the hill on the west side as well. Their wire wasn't as well set-up as the previous choke points, but the bigger area gave the group more room to spread out and reduce the chance of being boxed in.

One after another, walkers fell all around them, and more still came to take their places as the sun continued to sink. Clem could tell everyone was getting tired, with each wave of walkers being met with slower and less precise attacks. The raincoats kept them from being detected and their crude but complex web of wires prevented the dead from advancing too quickly, but the heavy burden of this seemingly endless task was beginning to weigh on everyone.

After what at least felt like an hour, the flow of walkers began to slow down, giving everyone much needed pauses in between attacks. The road was now littered what must have at least been a hundred corpses, and Clem could see more approaching in the horizon. They all begin to blur together for her after a while, just becoming a hazy slide show of rotted faces being punctured by her blade.

Then she saw something different approaching. At first she wasn't even sure it was a walker because it was so small, but it was. Waddling forward in a fashion even awkward for walkers was an undead toddler. He was bigger than Omid, but not by much. Clem guessed he couldn't be more than two years old at the most. He was completely naked, skin sickly and pale, only a few teeth in an otherwise empty mouth, stringy hair, and his big eyes covered by a strange white film.

His tiny steps carried him forward so very slowly that Clem could only imagine how long he had been following the noise of the firecrackers to get this far. His chubby arms were extended out in front of his body as he approached the first barbwire. His legs were shorter than the wire itself, so he couldn't trip. Instead, the wire connected with the toddler's stomach, slowly cutting him across his stomach.

Clem felt utterly transfixed at this horrible sight, a lone baby left to die only come back as one of the dead and tear up his body chasing a noise. Watching him rip open his belly on the barbwire, spilling his intestines on the ground, Clementine felt determined to act. She let go of her tomahawk and removed her pistol from its holster, then struggled to line up the sights on the poor child's head, then that head exploded into an eruption of blood.

"Two-sixty-seven!" Anthony had destroyed the undead toddler with a single swing of his bat, leaving just a tiny pair of legs attached to a severed torso with rotted organs spilling out onto the pavement. So sickening a sight to Clem she found herself panicking. Looking around at the massive piles of bodies surrounding her, she suddenly felt like she was suffocating. She put her gun away and ran up the hill towards where the Sunseeker was parked. Throwing off her raincoat, Clem charged through the vehicle and right into the bedroom as fast as her aching feet would carry her.

"Kem-men!"

"Omid," she said as she dropped to her knees and threw her arms around the boy. "I love you, I love you…"

"Muh-boo," said Omid as he hugged Clem.

"Are you okay?" Clem looked over to see an alarmed Jet staring at her.

"Yuh… yeah," stuttered Clem. "Where… where's Sarah?"

"She said she needed a break from Omid, so I came down here and she took my place on watch. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I… I just needed a break," stuttered Clem.

"Okay, I'll go help out; my hand is feeling a lot better. If you need anything, just tell me."

"Thanks." Jet looked at Clem briefly, clearly worried, then left her to be alone with Omid. At first, Clem couldn't let go of Omid, finding the warmth of his body against her skin and the feeling of his heartbeat incredibly calming. Eventually she had to let him go, but she remained close the whole time, and eagerly indulged his every whim. Playing with the toys he gave her, reading any book he brought her, and hanging on his every babbled word; Clem only wished she could give him more. After a while, Omid began chanting 'Wah-wah' and Clem carried him to the front to fetch some water.

"Hey there." Clem looked over to see Devlin seated on the couch. He had removed his helmet, mask, vest and padding. Without them, he appeared a lot smaller. Not skinny, but still thinner than Clem had imagined. He also smelled kind of musky, but she figured that was true for all of them by now.

"Are you hurt?" asked Clem.

"Nah, just worn out," he said. "Needed a break myself."

"Oh, okay." Clem set Omid down and filled up his cup with water. She sat down in a chair behind the passenger seat and invited Omid to join her. After she helped him climbed onto her lap, Clem put one arm around the boy while giving him the sippy cup in the other.

"You took off pretty quick."

Clem was surprised to see Devlin was looking at her. "I… I just—"

"I saw it too. That little boy out there."

"He was just a little baby," said Clem, finding it hard to fight the urge to cry. "I know he was already dead but… it even looked like OJ a little." Clem found herself squeezing Omid tighter after saying that. "It… it—"

"It's horrible," finished Devlin, sounding a little choked up himself. "Because it used to be a little boy." Clem nodded weakly at Devlin. "I may have knew his parents. There were at least a few couples in Tulsa with toddlers. I don't remember all their names, but I know only one couple made it out with their baby. The others…" Devlin covered his eyes with his hand and took a deep breath.

"Wah-wah," said Omid as he shook his empty cup.

"You're still thirsty," said Clem.

"I'll get it." Clem handed the cup to Devlin. He took it to the sink and quickly filled it. "I never got a chance to see this little guy the other day," Clem felt a little nervous as Devlin approached. He stopped in front of her and knelt down to look Omid in the eye. "How you doing there buddy?"

"Wah-wah," Omid told Devlin.

"Here you go." Devlin handed Omid the cup which Clem immediately helped to raise to his lips. "Have you and… Sarah right?" Clem nodded. "You two been raising this boy all by yourselves?"

"Yeah," said Clem with a nod.

"Damn, I'm seeing it and I can still hardly believe it."

"Me too," spoke a weary Clem.

"I've seen too many kids die," said Devlin, sorrow gripping his voice. "Schools were a bad place for kids to be during all this, a single infected gets in there and it could slaughter whole classes of them."

"It was spring break when the walkers came, so I wasn't in school then. But Sarah and I went to a school not long after OJ was born… there were so many dead kids there, and some of them were even younger than me."

"I'm sorry that happened to you, and that you've had to be on your own for so long." There was a sincerity in Devlin's voice that Clem found very comforting. It reminded her of how most well-meaning adults used to talk to children before things changed.

Feeling a restless Omid fidgeting in her arms, Clem set him on the carpet. Trying to think of a way to keep him entertained, Clem untied her shoe and slipped off her sock. Dangling it in front of Omid, the boy immediately took the challenge and grabbed it with both hands.

"Mah! Mah!" he said as he pulled on the sock as hard as he could.

"What would have happened if me and Sarah came to Tulsa before it was attacked?" asked Clem as she watched Omid try to take the sock from her.

"I told what you happened," said Devlin.

"I mean, what would happen to us? If me and Sarah drove up in our RV when Tulsa was still here, what would happen next? Would you search the RV and then tell us the rules?"

"Well yeah, we made people check their guns and ammo before they could come into town, then we'd want to get your names and a little more about you and where you've been."

"Why?" asked Clem.

"There were lots of people looking for lost family or news of other cities, so we made it a point to keep a list of names of everyone coming and going, and what they'd seen. If they got robbed or attacked by someone out there, we wanted to know what they looked like in case they ever came to town themselves. You know, stuff like that."

"That makes sense, but what about after that? Would you have let us in?"

"You guys? A couple of kids taking care of a baby?" asked Devlin. "Of course we'd let you in."

Clem found herself glad to hear that, but still hesitated from smiling. "And after that?"

"I… I guess we'd find someone to help look after you," reasoned Devlin.

"Look after us? Like who?"

"There were some other kids who had been… separated from their parents. We had to put together a kind of orphanage where we had some teachers and other people making sure they were being taken care of."

"Orphanage?" repeated Clem.

"Yeah, I guess that makes it sound like something out of a Dickens novel, but really they were just trying to keep them happy, which isn't easy these days. Sometimes people, usually parents who had lost their own kids, would come by and spend time with the children there, sometimes even adopt them if the kids like them enough."

Clementine found the idea of being adopted strange and uncomfortable to think about. Despite seeking safety for so long, the idea of answering to someone claiming to be her adoptive mother or father after all this time just felt wrong in the young girl's mind. It felt almost incomprehensible to her now even.

"You don't trust us," said Devlin, noting Clem's apprehension. "Or me I guess, seeing as I'm all that's left."

"It's not that, I just don't think I'd want to be adopted."

"We wouldn't separate you from Sarah or your… baby," assured Devlin.

"I didn't think you would, that's just not what I want."

"Well, what do you want?" asked Devlin, genuinely curious. "If you came to Tulsa last year, and you were sitting in front of me then, and I said you could have whatever you wanted, what would you say?"

"I guess… I'd like a house or a room somewhere safe for me and Sarah and OJ to stay… and enough to eat."

"And?"

"That's it really. We would have helped you any way we could have, and…" Clem noticed Devlin was smiling at her now. "What?"

"It's just weird a kid your age, talking about wanting her own house."

Clem frowned slightly upon hearing that. "We had one once, in a little town called Spokeston. We spent six months there, just the three of us, and only left when the food ran out."

"That must have been hard for you guys."

"Actually, that was probably the happiest I've been since things changed," realized Clem. "If we could have just stayed there…"

Clem was a little surprised when she felt Devlin's hand gently set down on her shoulder. "We had plenty of empty houses in Tulsa," he said with a smirk. "I think if you had come here, back when here was somewhere worth being, you could have convinced us to give you one to keep all to yourself."

"Not just myself," smiled Clem. "Sarah and OJ would be there as well."

"Mah!" Clem felt the sock finally be pulled from her grip. "Mah-bah."

Clem picked up Omid and set him on her lap.

"He sure is a cute little thing," said Devlin. "You and your friend are good moms."

"We hope so. We're always worried we're making mistakes."

"Every new parent is."

OJ continued to clutch the sock until he noticed Devlin looking at him. "Hah-dah?"

"Devlin," he said slowly as he gestured to himself.

"Deb-beb?"

"Dev—"

"Ahh, dammit!"

"Deb-bit," repeated Omid as Anthony stumbled into the RV, a look of excruciating pain on his face as he tightly clutched his right shoulder.

"What's wrong?" asked Devlin as Clem took hold of Omid, terrified of what Anthony was going to tell them.

"Are you bitten?" asked Clem as she found herself backing away from a wounded Anthony as he collapsed onto the couch.

"He's not bitten," assured Patty in a tired voice as she stepped inside. "Mr. High Score threw out his shoulder."

"Dammit," mumbled Anthony as he rubbed his shoulder.

"Deb-bit," repeated Omid with a smile.

"I told you should have taken a break," said Devlin.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just… I was so close to three-hundred," lamented a Anthony as he rubbed his shoulder. "Now I can't even hold the damn bat."

"Dab-bab." Clem felt a sudden urge to cover Omid's ears.

"Somebody get me some ice," pleaded Anthony.

"We don't have any, none of us have working freezers," reminded Patty.

"Shit…" Clem managed to cover Omid's ears before Anthony swore this time. "Well then, I guess I'm out of the game."

"Honestly, I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this up myself," said Patty, sounding out of breath as she sat down in the nearest chair.

"What's it look like out there?" Devlin asked Patty.

"Jet said there's almost none left. He's helping Sarah and Sin finish cleaning up what's left." Patty turned to Clem "You dropped your tomahawk but Jet said he'll bring it back when he's done."

"So we can move again soon?" asked Clem.

"Yeah, we could, but…" Patty let out a long sigh.

"Yeah, I'm worn out too," admitted Devlin. "And the sun's going down."

"And I'm crippled now," groused a frustrated Anthony.

"It might be best to pack it up and try again tomorrow," concluded Patty.

"Mah-bah." Clem looked down to see Omid looking up at her.

"You hungry?"

"Mah-bah," repeated Omid a little louder.

"I'll try to find you something to eat." Clem looked through the cabinets of the Sunseeker until she found some canned goods. Clem grimaced as she evaluated the small selection of odd and obscure vegetables, trying to figure out which ones Omid would most likely not spit out after two bites. As she pulled back a can to examine it, her hand bumped into her pistol. She didn't even realize she was still wearing it until now, or the grenade.

"Devlin," said Clem. "Our next stop would be the last one, right?"

"Yeah, but there's gotta be a bunch of them still there and I don't know if I've got the strength to hack through another hundred of these bastards."

"Oh, so you were keeping count," noted Anthony.

"I'm guessing, I've had to have killed at least a hundred of them by now."

"What if we just shoot them?" suggested Clem.

"You'd have to loan me a gun," said Devlin. "The rifle I took earlier is effectively ruined. After being left open to elements for so many months, that thing doesn't even cycle right anymore."

Clem thought to herself for a moment, then marched out of the RV. She walked the short distance back to where the Brave was parked and headed inside. She retrieved the automatic rifle stowed in the closet then headed back out in time to see Sarah, Sin and Jet stumbling towards the Sunseeker.

"Clem," said Sarah. "What are you doing with that?"

"Did something happen?" asked Jet.

"No, but maybe something should," she said.

"What does that mean?" asked Sin.

"Come on." Clem motioned with her head and led the others back into the Sunseeker. Once inside, she immediately offered the rifle to Devlin. "This is the same gun, right?"

"Yeah, it is," said Devlin as he took the weapon. "I remember your friend here aiming this at me the day before yesterday; surprised you weren't toting it around earlier."

"It's only got like six bullets," mumbled Anthony as he rubbed his shoulder. "I guess you've got plenty now though."

"We all have plenty of bullets," reminded Clem. "Let's just shoot the walkers and get the food already."

"Is that what we're discussing?" asked Sin as he found a place to sit. "I thought we agreed it'd be a waste of our ammo to do that."

"We've got lots of ammo, what we don't have is a lot of food," stated Clem. "I'm sick of eating junk; junk that's going to run out soon. I want good food, and I want it tonight, not tomorrow when we'll all just be even hungrier."

Looking around at everyone, Clem didn't see any hints of objection in the others' eyes. They likely were all thinking the same thing she was thinking; they didn't want to wait another day for what they had worked so hard for.

"A real meal again would amazing," professed Patty in a quiet voice.

"Fuck it, I can shoot with my left hand if it means I'm not stuck eating canned squash or whatever again," said Anthony.

"If we can drive as far as the shopping center, there's a place where we can bottleneck most of the ones inside," explained Devlin. "A couple of us could keep using melee weapons on them, others could cover the area and thin out their numbers using guns."

"Someone could take our rifle and shoot them from the roof of the RV too," suggested Sarah.

"I could do that," volunteered Jet.

"And we got the grenades if something goes wrong," reminded Patty.

"And if not, we could always just leave and come back tomorrow if there's too many," added Sin.

"Mah-bah!" Everyone turned to see a hungry Omid grasping at the cans in the cabinet, pawing at the lids in a hopeless attempt to open them. This sight saddened Clementine, then angered her as she realized she couldn't give Omid everything he deserved. But she could give him more tonight.

"Don't worry OJ," said Clem as he picked him up. "We're all gonna eat a lot better real soon."

The group returned to their respective vehicles and readied themselves, a renewed sense of determination taking hold as they finally moved towards their destination. As they headed north, Clem couldn't ignore the piles upon piles of bodies littering the road they were driving on. The sun was sinking now, painting the road itself in an orange light while the bodies appeared just as black marks against the concrete; a tally of all the people who had fallen in the time since the world changed.

As Clementine loaded an additional round to replace the one she used to rescue Jet, she realized that she still felt a shred of sadness for the walkers they killed. Even with their faces rotted and misshapen, she couldn't stop thinking about how every one was another person who hadn't survive. And with every corpse they passed, Clem continued to question her own survival. Why had she remained alive, when so many others had died?

Before long they passed another intersection and Devlin told them to slow down. Had they not been so tired, they probably would have stopped and begin the slow process of setting up another series of barbwire traps, but not this time. Instead, they kept going and Clem kept a close eye on the sides of the road. The highway itself had largely been clear of walkers, but there were still occasional ones to be found idling about in the distance.

Clem saw Anthony's truck ahead of them slowing down, prompting Patty to do the same. Until now, the section to the right of the road had been mostly empty space with a few houses sprinkled in. But as they rolled to a stop, Clem spotted a severely mangled chain fence running along the road. Beyond it was a handful of restaurants, and beyond that was a massive building with the words 'Sam's Club' written on the side. It would be right there for the taking if not for all the walkers standing in its parking lot.

"That's our food storehouse," confirmed Devlin over the radio. "Jesus, I never thought I'd see this place again."

"We could reach it easily from here if not for the walkers," said Sin.

"If we just go a little further, I know how we can force a lot of them into a bottleneck, make them easier targets."

Patty followed Anthony's truck as it moved a little further down the road. The broken fence continued past the restaurants and the storehouse, giving way to a massive row of buildings. There were worn logos on the top of the buildings, but no glass entrances or parking spaces in front of them. It dawned on Clem she was looking at the back of these department stores, and as the Brave slowed to a stop, she noticed a sign running over the road just ahead of them.

The original words had been painted over, just leaving "TULSA M.O.B." on the first sign, and a large arrow pointing at the shopping center on the other. Following the arrow with her eyes, Clem saw it was pointed to a gate in the chainlink fence that had long been knocked off its hinges. Beyond that, a gap in the buildings that led to a parking lot nestled inside, and there lay more walkers, just waiting for their prey.

"This is it," said Devlin. "Let's park our vehicles facing back the way we came, in case we need to leave in a hurry, and then meet outside." Patty swung the Brave onto the other road and the squeak of the parking brake set Clem and Sarah into motion. They loaded their guns, packed extra ammo into their bags, donned their raincoats, grabbed their melee weapons, and stepped out to meet the others waiting in the road.

"I still remember what it looked like." The first thing Clem noticed was Devlin staring at the hill across the road from the shopping center.

"Um, you're facing the wrong way," informed Anthony.

"The infected following those troops out of Oklahoma City came in on the interstate to the west of here. Maybe if they had just told us, we could have done something about it," spoke Devlin in a bitter tone through his teeth. "Instead, the fighting dragged them off the road and right to us. Once we finally killed the last motherfucker, we thought it was over, then we saw them come pouring over this hill here by the hundreds."

"That's… comforting," said Anthony.

Devlin turned around and looked at the shopping center. "Let's do this." The man gripped his rifle and took a step forward. "Bottleneck is right there," said Devlin as he gestured to the gap in the buildings. "A couple of us wire it up and get ready to bash some heads in."

"I'll do it," volunteered Sarah. "I've been with Omid most of the day, so I'm not that tired."

"And I'll go with her," added Clem. "I've taken a break every time, so I'm okay too."

"Patty, that shotgun would do a lot of damage at close range, go with the girls and cover them."

"Sounds good," said the woman as she cocked her gun.

"Here's our rifle, and all the ammo we have for it," said Sarah as she handed the weapon to Jet along with a bag. "If the scope feels off, you can adjust it with the little dials on the top and side."

"Wow, you've got a lot of bullets for this thing," noted Jet as he tested the weight of the bag.

"And you've still got the pistol we gave you." Jet nodded at Patty. "Use that in case they get in close and you can't use the rifle."

"And be aware of your surroundings, " ordered Devlin. "Using a scope, it can be real easy to forget what's just past the edge of it. The last thing I want to see happen is one of us go in to kill an infected and get shot in the back because you were aiming for so long you didn't realize where we were."

"I'll… I'll be careful," said Jet as if he was making a promise.

"I'd recommend covering the west hill. There's little chance of one of us wandering out that far in the first place and you'll have an easier time shooting them from up there than any of us."

"Got it!" Jet took off running for the back of the RV.

"You good to use that thing?" Devlin gestured to the machine gun Sin was holding.

"I haven't fired it before, but I trained with larger rifles," he said.

"You a soldier?"

"No, but military service is required in Thailand," said Sin with a hint of derision. "I guess I'll finally get some use out of it."

"All right, well you take the south road. There probably won't be too much on it seeing as we already killed a lot of stuff back that way, should give you time to get used to that gun. Also, watch the side of the buildings, in case any of them try to sneak up on the girls and Patty."

"Understood." Sin nodded at Devlin and marched down the road.

"And any of you ever use this gun before?" asked Devlin as he held up the automatic rifle.

"Yeah, it's loud, and it's impossible for me to hold when it shoots more than one bullet," answered Clem.

"Then it works," concluded Devlin as he examined the weapon. "I'll use this rifle and cover the north side."

"What about me?" asked Anthony.

"Watch the baby," ordered Devlin.

"What? You want me to babysit?"

"The gunshots will wake him up and probably scare him too," said Sarah. "Somebody needs to be there for him."

"But anyone can do that," argued Anthony. "Why me?"

"Because, you fucked up your shoulder from working all day without a break," reminded Devlin. "No good messing yourself up even worse. You get some rest while keeping an eye on the kid. If once of us needs to tap out and you're feeling better, you can switch then."

Anthony stared defiantly at Devlin in response.

"Please Anthony?" begged Sarah. "We can't leave Omid alone."

"You know what, I'll do it since you asked Sarah." Anthony smiled at her, then headed for the Brave.

"All right people, move with a purpose."

Sarah and Clem grabbed a spool of barbwire from the Sunseeker and hurried down the hill and towards the shopping center. There were bodies all over the grass leading up to the building, too rotted to be walkers anymore. Briefly glancing at them, she could see some of them had uniforms on, most of them didn't. There were also stray shell casings scattered across the dirt that Clem preferred not to think about.

Moving in close to the buildings revealed more signs of the battle Devlin mentioned. The concrete exteriors of the stores were riddled with bullet holes and an entire section of the structure on the left had collapsed into a pile of broken concrete from some unseen attack. Nearing the gap, Clem could see a damaged humvee smashed up against the building on the right.

Entering the gap, the scars of battle grew more numerous. There were several wrecked vehicles jammed up against the sides of the building at odd angles, small craters in the dirt path they were walking on, and at the end of the gap a bizarre arch that appeared to be made out of twisted metal. Getting closer, Clem realized the arch was the remains of a semi-trailer, like the ones that made the wall around the citadel, but this one had been torn apart in the middle, leaving an opening large enough to drive through.

Reaching the wrecked trailer, Clem was baffled by the black scorch marks surrounding the punctured metal. The razor wire running on top made it clear this was used as a wall, but Clem could think of only one thing that could have carved an entrance through it. And taking a few steps forward, she saw that one thing sitting in the middle of the parking lot; the remains of a large tank.

"Jesus…" whispered Patty. "It's just like Mobile."

"Except there are walkers everywhere this time," corrected Clem.

"Let's just put up the barbwire before they hear us," insisted Sarah.

The pair worked quickly while Patty kept a lookout. The debris and abandoned vehicles gave them some natural places to anchor the wire. They could hear Jet over the radio reporting about walkers in the distance, but Devlin told him not to shoot until Clem and Sarah finished. After securing their third strand of wire, Clem decided that was enough. They backed away from the gap, then radioed the others to let them know it was time.

A couple of rifle shots sounded, which was followed by more shots from the others, and soon there were walkers moving towards the gap. Clem's tomahawk moved without thinking, by now it was practically a reflex. As the walkers began to swarm, the girls stepped back and let Patty's shotgun deal with them. The deafening bangs drew more, which the girls would cut down with their pistols while Patty reloaded. After their numbers began to thin the girls would reload themselves, then go back to using their melee weapons, repeating the cycle.

The moans and groans of the dead became like white noise before long, and the constant sunken faces of the dead looking in Clem's direction before jamming her blade through their eyes all blended together into a depressing blur of rotted faces who features dimmed with the setting sun. It felt less like battling monsters and more like fighting a force of nature now, like throwing sandbags in the path of a flooding river, hoping you have enough to keep the water out.

The sun had nearly set as the distant sounds of gunshots began to wane. There were still more walkers piling in from the gap, and by now the bodies of the dead had once again formed a pile of corpses, burying the original wire, which just created a marginally more effective barrier. By now, Clem could barely breathe because her lungs ached so badly, yet she persisted.

Watching as another pair of walkers clambered over their makeshift wall of bodies, Clem tried to move forward to kill one, only to suddenly find herself too dizzy to stand. The girl fell backwards onto the dirt, dropping her tomahawk. Watching Sarah, her machete became jammed in the head of the walker on the left, and while she tried to free it the walker on the right was pulling itself over the wall.

Clem drew her pistol and took aim the best she could, but pulling the trigger just produced a click; she had forgotten to reload. Her eyes wandering around for help, Clem saw Patty was still loading her shotgun while the walker's arms started thrashing out towards an unexacting Sarah, whose was still struggling to free her machete. With a sudden wave of terror washing over her, Clem reached for the grenade on her belt. But before she could grab it, a cold but strong hand grabbed her from behind.

"Easy there," said Devlin. "I got you." The man's thick gloves felt coarse against her skin, but there was something gentle in the way he helped her off the ground, as if he was taking great care not to exert too much strength.

Suddenly there was a gunshot and Clem turned her head to discover Sarah casually shooting the walker with her pistol. Feeling a little less dizzy now, she noticed it wasn't quite as close to her friend as she initially thought.

"Looks like you three could use a break." Clem watched as Jet picked up the tomahawk and approached the wall, Sin following right behind with his machete. "The roads are pretty clear now, so we can take take it from here."

"Thuh… thanks," Clem found herself barely able to speak because her throat was so parched. She slowly trudged back to the Brave with Sarah and Patty, both looking only marginally less haggard than herself. Her feet hurt from standing all day, both her arms were throbbing in pain, her hands were incredibly sore, and even with the respirator covering her mouth she knew she must smell terrible.

Returning to the Brave to toss off their stuffy respirators and raincoats felt like escaping an iron maiden for the trio. Carefully removing the grenade from her belt, Clem took one last look at it before placing it on the table, grateful that she didn't need it today. She was about to remove the rest of her equipment when there came a noise from the closet. Without a word, Sarah jumped ahead of the group and threw the door open.

"Ah-bree-mah-bah" mumbled Omid as he chewed his ice cream.

"Omid, no!" scolded Sarah as she pried the boy away from his treat. "He ate almost a whole bag. You're gonna make yourself sick."

"What are y'all yelling about?" asked a woozy Anthony as he emerged from the bedroom.

"Dammit, you were supposed to be watching him," said Patty.

"I was, I just lied down for a minute. What's the big…" Anthony looked down at the mostly devoured plastic bag sitting amongst the remaining unopened freeze-dried ice cream. "Are you kidding me, you people lied to me." Anthony turned to Clem. "You said that bag you gave me to go New Orleans was your last one."

Everyone stared hard at Anthony in response to what he said, except for Omid, who just kept chewing. "Why don't you go help the others clear our what's left in the parking lot?" suggested a worn out Patty.

"All I've got is the one pistol."

"Just take my backpack, its got extra bullets," said Clem as she handed him her bag. "If you hurry, you might still reach three-hundred."

That was enough to get Anthony moving, leaving the Brave to its owners.

"Finally," spoke an exhausted Clem. "I really need a—" Omid spit-up a brown substance onto Clem's shirt. "Shower."

After confirming Omid was unarmed beside stuffing himself with too much ice cream, Clem's concerns were replaced with annoyance in needing to clean up the floor while Sarah had to wash and change Omid; Patty was left to sort out their guns and other equipment in case they needed to go back out. At one point, Devlin requested as many flashlights as they could spare over the radio, and Clem volunteered to take some out, reasoning she was still on her feet anyway. Only after that was she finally able to catch her breath in the bathroom.

Peeling off her gloves, Clem was disturbed to see her hands were bright red and covered in popped blisters. And as she undressed, Clem discovered more bruises and marks all across her body, many of which weren't there this morning. Tossing her filthy clothes in the laundry basket, Clem suspected she could have not used her raincoat at this point and still remained undetected due to all the blood that had splashed onto them, and Omid's puke probably just helped to make them smell even worse.

Stepping into the shower, Clementine felt the hot water almost instantly washing away her fears and concerns of the day along with the dirt and filth, only for the water to stop. It started again after a few seconds, then stopped again. Clem tried fiddling with the knobs and even knocking the shower head, but it didn't fix the problem. It was still a huge relief to wash herself off, but without a steady stream of water it was more like she was getting a quick rinse than a hot shower.

As she stepped out of the bathroom, Clem heard another call from Devlin, this time telling them to try and move the Brave into the parking lot. They had apparently cleared out most of the remaining walkers as well as clearing out some space in the gap, and Devlin wanted to make sure they could drive onto the lot now, saying they could spend the night here. Patty dutifully put up with the Brave's stubbornness until it started and headed for the gap.

The barricade of bodies had been parted down the middle and the wire removed. It was a tight fit, and Patty went slowly, but they managed to squeeze the Brave through without issue. Heading south across the lot, Clem found herself staring at the countless bodies littering the area. The asphalt looked almost like a wide open sea in the dark, and the Brave their ship sailing through these uncharted waters riddled with bodies. Despite what Devlin had said about staying the night, it still didn't feel like they were finished, and that there was some other challenge waiting for them.

Eventually, the Brave's headlights fell on the storehouse's front entrance. It was chained shut, and in the surrounding area, Clem could see Anthony, Sin and Jet eliminating a few lingering walkers in the distance, while Devlin was moving towards the storehouse's front doors. Patty and Clem rearmed themselves and grabbed their raincoats while Sarah tried to get Omid to settle in for the night.

Stepping outside, once again Clem found herself staring at the bodies lying around her. Seeing one walker on the pavement not far from where they parked, Clem grabbed her tomahawk. Her hands and arms ached as she lifted it into the air, but she endured the pain long enough to bring the blade down on the walker's skull.

"I think that one was already dead," informed Patty as she gravitated towards one the Brave's exterior storage bins.

"Yeah, but I wanted to be sure." There was a gunshot and Clem turned around in time to see a walker falling before Anthony, who was wielding a pistol in his left hand. Scanning for further threats, Clem found nothing but Sin and Jet as they moved towards where they were standing. Suddenly, the night seemed silent, free of moans and growls and shambling footsteps that had so followed them everywhere they went, and for the first time today, Clem didn't feel the walkers presence lurking just out of sight.

"Someone I knew once said that in the end, the dead always win." Clementine looked down at the rotten and mangy corpse sprawled out before her. "I think she was wrong."

"Devlin!"

Clem spun around to see Patty rushing towards Devlin, who collapsed to knees suddenly. Looking at the man, he had an almost vacant look in his eyes now, as if his soul had left his body.

"Are you okay?" asked Patty.

"You're not bitten are—"

"I just can't believe it," he mumbled in a barely audible whisper. "With just six of you…" Devlin raised his arm and stared at the dried blood smeared across the sleeve of his raincoat. "We could have taken it back. If only we had known, it could have worked… it all could have worked."

Clementine stepped forward and placed a hand on the man's shoulder, which seemed to bring him back to his senses. "I'm sorry," she said as the man looked into her eyes.

"They didn't even notice us," said Devlin. "How did you figure it out?"

"I was lucky," admitted Clem. "Someone had to kill a bunch of walkers to rescue me, and he got covered in their stuff. When a walker didn't bite him, we figured it out; I'm only alive because of him."

"I guess that means I am too now," realized Devlin as he stood up.

"We all are," said Patty as she approached the man. "None of us would have made it here without you Clem."

"Not me, Lee was the one—"

"You're the one who saved me back in Titusville," reminded Patty. "You wanted to take a chance to help Anthony, came to Sin and Jet's rescue outside Port Arthur, and I think I remember Sarah saying something about you saving her life."

"Well… yeah, I did do all that stuff, didn't I," spoke a surprised Clem, as if this was the first time she had realized this.

"And you're taking care of that baby," added Devlin. "Sounds like you're a real hero."

Clem turned away upon hearing that. "No," she said as she remembered something else she did. "I'm not a hero."

"Well, you're a hero to me," said Devlin with a smile.

"Really, even though I'm a kid?" asked Clem.

"That just makes you more heroic," reasoned Devlin with a smile. "I've known grown men twice your size who weren't half as heroic as I saw you act today."

"Three-hundred and eleven!" announced Anthony loudly as he joined the group. "What's my prize?"

"You get to kill the next three-hundred," suggested Patty.

"Ahh, you know what, I think I'll take the door prize instead." Anthony gestured to the front of the storehouse.

"Is it possible walkers are inside there?" Sin asked Devlin as he and Jet joined the group.

"I severely doubt it. We had the storehouse locked down tight to keep out thieves, and since we were attacked at night, none of us got a chance to open it before we had to retreat."

"How do we get in then?" asked Jet as he looked at the padlocks and chains welded to the door.

"I got it covered." Patty brandished the electric bolt cutter. She went right to the closest chain and pulled the trigger. The blades very slowly closed in on the metal link, but they didn't cut it. The tool just whirred very weakly as it failed to make a dent in the metal.

"Dammit…" Patty pulled back the tool. "What's wrong this thing?"

"We charged it the last time we stopped to get diesel, and we haven't used it since," said Clem. "Maybe the flood wrecked it. It was stored outside."

"How long have you had that?" asked Sin.

"We've had it for months now," said Clem. "Why?"

"It's possible the battery has lost its ability to hold a charge," said Sin.

"It's rechargeable," said Clem.

"Rechargeable batteries eventually lose their ability to hold a charge," informed Jet. "My laptop barely lasts thirty minutes when fully charged at this point."

"What kind of battery is it?" asked Sin. "Maybe we could replace it."

"I don't know, it's some boxy thing attached to the bottom," said Patty.

"Oh God damn it, we cut down an army of the dead only to get stopped by some fucking chains?" asked an indignant Anthony. "Why the hell can't we catch a break already?" A loud rattling caused everyone to spin around to find Devlin pulling the chains away while the padlocks lay by his feet.

"The Chief left the keys with us," said Devlin as he tossed the last chain aside. "In case we ever got back here… never thought I'd actually use them though."

"Just be good, please?" Clem watched as Sarah stepped out of the Brave, Omid cradled in her arms.

"Sarah, why are you bringing him out here?" asked Clem.

"He won't sleep, I think all the sugar from the ice-cream is keeping him up," said Sarah.

"Mah-bah," said Omid.

"And I think he's still hungry too," sighed Sarah. "Except for a bunch of ice cream, which he threw up, he hasn't eaten much all day."

"Well, let's get him something to eat then." Devlin pulled open the doors and grabbed his flashlight. He banged his nightstick against the door frame a couple of times, which produced no response, then he stepped in. Clem looked around at the others, all of whom seemed to be waiting for someone else to make the first move, eventually prompting Clem to do it herself.

She darted inside, past an area full of shopping carts, and into the store itself. Devlin was already far ahead, prompting Clem to remove her own flashlight. Flipping it on, she found she couldn't believe what she was looking at. Stacks, upon stacks, upon stacks, upon stacks of food, as far as she could see. Whole pallets of dried goods, entire shelves filled with cans, jars piled into boxes stacked upon boxes, packets of instant mix goodies laid out like piles of bricks on counters, bottles of sports drinks arranged into displays taller than her, and more food than she ever imagined seeing in every direction she looked.

"Holy shit," said Patty.

"I can only imagine how much more the troops in Houston had hoarded," spoke an astonished Sin as he studied his surroundings.

"Or how much they shipped away," added Jet.

Clem moved to one of the shelves. Reading the labels on the cans, she found fruits, stews, soups, and vegetables of all types neatly lined up for the taking. Removing a can of beef stew from the shelf, Clem discovered there were several more behind it. Moving a little further, she did see gaps and empty spots amongst the aisles, but there were so many aisles with so much food on it that it boggled the mind.

"Mah-bah!" Clem turned around to see Omid trying to grasp one of many plastic containers full of gum balls sitting on a shelf Sarah was walking by.

"No Omid, you've had enough sugar for today."

A loud bang came from behind and Clem discovered Anthony smacking the top of a can into one of the shelves.

"What the hell are you doing?" asked Patty.

"Trying to open this, I'm starving," grumbled a desperate Anthony. "Here, you try, both your arms work."

"Put that back, we—"

"Just let him have it," said Devlin as walked back towards where the group was standing. "We were trying to save up enough provisions to last one more winter. What you're looking at, we were hoping to use to build a future for this city, but that's over now. Now, for a small group of people, all this food is just—"

"A jackpot," awed Clementine.

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#Three Orphan Pilgrimage #TOP #Chapter 68

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