#climbed into the tree and ate the wires

[youregoingtoeathimwithmyface]

the freak who ruined christmas…

[the-last-quest]

Silly Prime Bro Headcanons

-Since they’re all foxes Tails, Sails, and Nine pick up on Mangey’s body language easier than others

-Nine and Mangey would IPad kid together

-They’d stay up all night watching stuff like Walten Files or The Mandela Catalogue and after being spooked for a day come up with the wildest theories

-Mangey prefers to walk on the ground most of the time, it’s Sails that spends most of his time climbing around in the trees, using his mechanical hand to hold onto tree branches.

-When Sails and Mangey are working on some tech Nine is always sure to keep a close eye on them. He knows both of them are careful while working, but watching them calms his nerves, especially when they’re working with live wires

-Tails is the best cook of the four, obviously. Next comes Sails, he can hold himself decently in a kitchen but only knows a few recipes, mostly seafood based. After that is Nine, and the jump in skill in the kitchen is large, all he knows how to do is microwave food. Then finally Mangey, since he mostly ate fruit all his life he never learned how to cook.

-While being good with technology Sails and Mangey don’t know how they do things. They’d be asked how they knew what to fix with a machine and they would be like “idk it just didn’t feel right.”

-Tails finds it kinda funny while Nine just wants a straight answer.

[lythea-creation]

Broken Toys - Johanna Mason x fem reader (Chapter 14)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

word count: 3.379

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Beetee wanted to inspect the tree before executing our plan.

On the way Johanna built the vanguard followed by Peeta and Finnick, who were switching between carrying Beetee. Katniss was the rearguard and I cleared everything from above.

At the tree we distributed the tasks.

Finnick and I were staying with Beetee to watch over him. I was not a strong and skilled fighter like many other victors, but you should not underestimate a surprise attack from above.

Johanna was getting water and Peeta nuts, while Katniss was hunting some animals.

After a while the others returned and soon later the clicking noises in the adjoining sector began. It was way louder inside the jungle than at the beach yesterday.

“Doesn't sound mechanic”, Beetee thought aloud.

“I suggest insects. Beetles or anything like that”, I stated.

They sounded like they would be able to get down to the bones in seconds.

“Anyway we should get out of here before the lightning hits”, Johanna reminded us.

Hence we moved on to the blood-rain sector and ate the food we had collected.

Beetee asked me to climb up the twin tree of this sector, which I skillfully did.

I observed the lightning tree and explained everything to Beetee, although I did not understand what the information revealed him.

Then we went back to the beach of the ten clock wave sector.

As we had enough time we took the chance to sleep.

A few hours later we were all wide awake due to the nervousness.

Finnick showed us how to hunt down the sea animals and we prepared a feast.

Another parachute arrived, this time not only with the twenty-four buns but also with a hot red sauce.

The food was delicious. We were more than full and still had not been able to eat everything.

Now everyone parted ways.

Katniss and Peeta were sitting together at the water.

Finnick was weaving another net which he would never use before we would set off.

Beetee was busy with his wire again.

I decided to climb onto a tree. To be high up here gave me a feeling of control and safety as the trees had saved my life many times before.

After a while Johanna joined me. The tension in the air was unsettling. The Games were nearing their end.

“You wanted to say something yesterday, when the hymn interrupted you”, I remembered suddenly. “What was it?”

Johanna seemed surprised by my question. She held her hand in front of her mouth to hide it from the cameras and lowered her voice: “Protect Katniss.”

“What?”, I replied confused. “Why are you saying that?”

“No matter what. It's important. Promise me that you'll prioritize it over everything else.”

I felt irritated by her request. Why did she want me to do that?

“Johanna. You hate Katniss, don't you?”, I reassured.

I let it sound like I had changed the topic.

“I can't stand her! Her whole attitude is making me furious!”

Then it did not make any sense at all or rather I could not understand Johanna's reasons.

Was there a greater goal behind everything? Katniss was the face of rebellion after all. Was Johanna part of it all? Who else was in on it? And why did I not know anything? Maybe because Snow's surveillance over me had increased? At least that would make sense and explain Johanna's odd behavior. Usually she thought of herself first.

“Johanna. I promise under one condition”, I declared, earning a questioning frown. “Answer my questions honestly.”

She crossed her arms and waited for me to continue.

“What am I to you? Your behavior is confusing”, I stated.

“Of course it is. I don't understand it myself. You're just always on my mind and it's freaking me out! Not to mention it pisses me off that you come along with Katniss! But it's your decision and it's not like I own you or anything. So I have to deal with it. But it would already help if you could stop being so reckless. Since your own well-being is everything you have to worry about, you're acting carelessly.”

Woah, I had not expected a scolding! Though she was right.

“Did you ever consider it being real? Our relationship?”, I asked her.

The people in the Capitol were probably glued to their screens right now, eager to listen to every word. But blowing covers or not did not matter anymore.

Johanna stayed silent.

Therefore I decided to change my question: “What did you feel when we kissed? Or when you were holding me to make me fall asleep?”

“I can't tell. It's a feeling I dunno”, she admitted while inspecting her axe.

I had not even noticed her axe until now.

“Alright. I don't want to bother you or make you uncomfortable. I will keep my promise.”

I moved to get down the tree when Johanna's hand stopped me.

Our eyes met. For a moment it felt like I could see right through her. See her scared and vulnerable side.

“Don't die”, she demanded before letting go.

“Only if you don't die yourself”, I replied with a grin and jumped down the tree.

“Finnick! Let's get some water”, I suggested.

Going alone with the careers out there would be too dangerous and I had just decided not to die.

The hymn announced no death tonight. If it had not been for our plan, the gamemakers might have tortured us in any way for entertainment. But they seemed to be curious about the plan.

At the tree Beetee prepared everything before handing Johanna the spool with the rest of the wire.

“The girls lay out the wire. Peeta and Finnick, you stay here to guard me”, Beetee instructed us.

“I will go with them as a guard”, Peeta interjected.

“No, I need you here to watch over me. The girls will be fine on their own”, Beetee answered back.

“Finnick can watch you alone”, Peeta suggested.

“There are two careers. So I need two guards”, Beetee insisted.

“Is there a problem?”, Finnick interfered.

“It's Beetee's plan and we all agreed to it”, Johanna added.

“No problem. We will see us at midnight”, Katniss ended the discussion.

While Katniss and Johanna were alternately laying out the wire, I was observing them from above.

We did not really talk. The combination of Johanna and Katniss was not the most talkative anyway. At least as long as they did not fight, discuss or insult each other.

When Johanna handed the spool over to Katniss, the wire suddenly snapped.

Johanna did not hesitate to hit Katniss' head with the spool making the latter fall to the ground.

Then Johanna cut Katniss' right forearm.

What was she up to?

In the meantime I was looking around searching for the cause of the snapped wire and noticed Brutus and Enobaria. Though as long as Johanna was busy with Katniss, I could not recklessly attack them. They were skilled and would most probably kill me if I attacked them.

So I observed and evaluated the situation, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But Johanna immediately threw her axe toward the careers and ran away, luring them after her.

Had she lost her mind, sacrificing her weapon like that? Of course she had another axe, but still.

My legs were ready to jump to follow Johanna and help her when my promise came to my mind.

Johanna was risking her life for Katniss and she had wanted me to protect Katniss. Why was not important right now. I had to trust her and keep my promise.

So I followed the stumbling Katniss who had apparently forgotten about me due to the confusing situation and the hit to her head.

We were moving back to the tree. Had the hit turned her insane? The lightning would soon erupt!

“Johanna! Katniss! (f/n)!” Finnick had come after us when he had noticed the snapped wire.

But Katniss quickly hid behind some bushes. Why? Was she thinking that Johanna had wanted to harm her? That would explain why she did not trust Finnick anymore, if she had ever really trusted him to begin with.

I did not react to his voice either. Firstly because I did not want to remind Katniss that I was here. And secondly because I wanted him to help Johanna.

When Finnick was out of sight, Katniss set off again.

Soon later I heard a cannon sound, making my heart race as panic filled me.

“Don't let it be Johanna or Finnick”, I pleaded in my mind.

I did not want anyone to die, but I just could not lose those two.

Katniss had to be worried about Peeta too. She was so upset that she got caught between the wire.

We continued toward the tree.

The anxiety inside of me rose, but as usually this was not the time to freak out.

Katniss moved over to Beetee, who was laying on the ground. He seemed to be injured, but I could not make up any visible wounds from up here, except his bleeding arm which did not seem severe.

Wait! His arm was bleeding, but no enemy in sight? Had he done it himself? The careers would have killed him. But then why? And why had Johanna done the same to Katniss?

Absentmindedly my left hand stroke over my right forearm. The tracker! They were cutting the trackers out!

Without wasting another thought on it, I cut mine out as well. There had to be a reason behind it and I trusted Johanna.

In the background I heard Katniss calling out for Peeta and the other way around.

Suddenly Enobaria and Finnick appeared and Katniss hid quickly, not answering Peeta's screams anymore.

Another cannon sound.

“Katniss!”, Peeta continued calling out her name.

My breathing quickened.

Beetee was still breathing and Peeta yelling. Finnick, Enobaria and Katniss were here as well. As much as I wanted to feel relieved that Finnick was alive, I could not. Not when the possibility of Johanna's death was so high.

Chaff. Brutus. Johanna. Two of them were dead.

Before I could analyze the situation further, a bright light blinded me and I hit the ground.

My whole body was in pain. My senses were not working properly.

What had just happened?

My eyes were fixated on the fake sky crumbling down.

I tried standing up, but immediately sank back to my knees.

A hovercraft lifted Katniss up.

No! They could not take her! I had promised Johanna to protect Katniss! But my body refused to obey me. It was pointless.

I could only helplessly watch Katniss, Finnick, Beetee and me getting pulled up.

When I entered the hovercraft, I was confused.

That the gamemaker, Plutarch Heavensbee, was here was odd enough. Should he not be dealing with the break down of the arena or the television broadcast?

But what confused me even more was the fact that Haymitch was here as well.

I looked around, noticing that Katniss and Beetee were unconscious and Finnick awake, though he did not move. Probably because he could not, like me.

I struggled when someone injected me with something.

My mind was too overwhelmed to process the situation. Too many questions were blocking out my ability to think clearly.

Slowly I felt the pain of my body subside.

Now that I could move again, I went over to Haymitch and Heavensbee who had gone to another room.

I almost screamed when Finnick touched my shoulder. “We should talk a little, before you go to them. So you understand the situation properly.”

The idea of getting an explanation was tempting. Hence I agreed to sit down with him and listen.

“This is part of the revolution. Plutarch Heavensbee is a rebel who infiltrated the Capitol. He is a Capitol citizen, but wants to change Panem. The plan was to ensure Katniss' and Peeta's survival to present Katniss as the mockingjay, the face of the rebellion. About half of the tributes were part of the plan, including Johanna, Beetee and me. Katniss and Peeta didn't or still don't know as they had been watched by the Capitol the whole time. That's also why you didn't know. It would have been too risky because Snow has been watching you closely as well.”

“So you wanna tell me that the man who put us inside the arena and made us suffer is actually on our side?”

“Exactly.” Finnick nodded.

Disbelief, rage, helplessness, frustration, fear. So many emotions seemed to overpower me right now. Therefore I shut them away, leaving only a feeling of painful numbness.

I got up and moved over to the other room.

Frantically I looked around, hoping that my senses had been too foggy to perceive everything correctly. But she really was not here.

“Where's Johanna?”, I asked anxiously.

Heavensbee sent me a sympathetic look. “I'm sorry. The Capitol got her before us. And Peeta as well.”

Haymitch and Finnick both had to hold me back, despite my awful state, to prevent me from attacking Heavensbee.

I was just screaming and thrashing around.

Actually I was grateful that Haymitch and Finnick held me back because I was not even angry at Heavensbee.

I was excruciatingly angry at myself and Snow of course. The guilt was immense. I should have been relieved that she was alive, but being at the Capitol now was most likely worse than death.

Why had I kept my promise instead of helping Johanna? She would have been furious, but at least I would be with her.

Instead I was the one sitting here 'safely' once again while the Capitol had stolen another precious person from me. I was completely helpless, useless. What had I even fought for when nothing had changed?

My whole body hurt again, but I could not care less. It was nothing compared to my mental state. Though my last strength left me and I sank to the ground, staring blankly at it.

I had failed her. Why did I always fail to protect the people I loved? Pathetic!

Haymitch helped me to get to the table they were all sitting at. I did not even consider touching the food on it.

“No contact to 7, 10 and 12. But district 11 managed to get control over some traffic routes. We can at least hope that they will get some food out”, I heard Heavensbee proclaiming the current situation.

“What about Annie? Can you bring me to 4 now?”, Finnick requested.

“No, I'm sorry. I can't take you to 4. But I have made a special order to get her out if possible. There isn't more that I can do”, Heavensbee stated sadly.

“What if I offer myself in exchange for her?”, Finnick suggested desperately.

“Don't be stupid! That'd be the worst thing to do. As long as you're alive they will keep her alive, as bait”, Haymitch remarked.

Suddenly the door opened revealing Katniss, holding a syringe in her hand.

“Hey, did you knock yourself out, sweetheart”, Haymitch greeted her, frustration evident in his voice.

He immediately jumped up and grabbed Katniss' wrists as she tried attacking him.

“So what? You and a syringe against the Capitol? Now you know why nobody trusts you with the planning”, Haymitch joked.

That officially settled it. Victor's had to be crazy and insane to survive.

“Drop it”, he ordered her and she did.

Then Haymitch pushed her onto the chair next to Finnick.

Haymitch began explaining the whole situation from scratch. That there had already been the plan to get as many victors out of the arena as possible, when the Quarter Quell had been announced. That the tributes from 3, 4, 6, 7, 8 and Chaff had known about the plan. That Plutarch Heavensbee belonged to an underground organization, who had the goal to overthrow the Capitol.

He had put the wire into the arena to give Beetee the opportunity to destroy the arena. The bread we had gotten through the parachutes had been a code for the time. That was why Finnick had counted the buns so carefully.

Now we were on our way to district 13. It was a lot to process at once. It had to be even worse for Katniss as I had gotten a short explanation from Finnick and suggested that there had been a greater meaning behind Johanna's strange behavior.

It hurt to think about her.

“You didn't tell me anything”, Katniss stated.

“Neither you, (f/n) nor Peeta knew. It would have been too risky. I have even been afraid that you would mention my unwariness with my clock”, Heavensbee declared and got a pocket watch out.

When he touched it with his thumb, there was the image of a mockingjay. “I wanted to give you a hint for the arena. You as a mentor. I thought of it as a great first step to gain your trust. I would have never dreamed that you would turn out to be a tribute again”, he continued.

Heavensbee had given her the hint and it had taken Katniss so long to find out that the arena was a clock? Maybe she had forgotten about it. Or she had not thought a lot of it back then, whenever they had met for the first time, probably during the victory tour.

“I still don't understand why you didn't tell Peeta, (f/n) and me anything. Aren't you angry?”, Katniss asked me.

I shook my head. “Snow watched me closely. So it's understandable. Besides I have already been a part of the rebellion long ago and had a reason to support you. Rue. Oh, and Johanna wanted me to protect you, too”, I recalled.

“Johanna told you to protect me? No way”, Katniss exclaimed in disbelief.

“Johanna hit you to cut your tracker out and lured Brutus and Enobaria away from you”, I clarified.

“What?”, Katniss wondered.

“We were all willing to risk our life for Peeta and you”, Finnick agreed.

“Why?”

“We had to save you because you are the mockingjay, Katniss. As long as you live, the revolution lives too”, Heavensbee declared.

She stayed silent for a while before whispering Peeta's name. “Where is Peeta?”

“He got captured, together with Johanna and Enobaria”, Haymitch answered while averting Katniss' gaze.

Her reaction was similar to mine with the difference that no one held her back. Her nails destroyed Haymitch's face.

They insulted each other shamelessly,while Finnick tried pulling Katniss away. I had to help him.

When Katniss was back in the other room, laying on an examination table, they gave her a sedative.

Finnick and I got a sedative, as well. I was not sure if they did it to grant us rest or to get the control back. It was not like I cared right now.

I felt someone staring at me for a while and pretended to be sleeping.

“Katniss. Katniss, I'm so sorry”, Finnick apologized. “I didn't want to leave Peeta and Johanna behind, but I couldn't move. At least he's better off than Johanna. Soon they will notice that he doesn't know anything. And they won't kill him as long as they think they can use him against you”, Finnick tried soothing her.

I did not want to hear that. I did not want to be reminded of the fact that Johanna was most likely tortured while we were resting. That she had to suffer because I had failed her.

“As bait?”, Katniss responded. “Like they will use Annie as bait for you, Finnick?”

I could hear him crying and forced myself to move over to him to pull him into a hug. I tried as hard as possible to send him the last bit of strength and hope left in me.

We had just turned into true victors of the Hunger Games. But we could not show Snow how much he had broken us.

I was determined to make him pay.

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Next Chapter

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Fourteen (Part 2)

The journey to Wexford feels long because it is so often interrupted by traffic jams and detours to bypass the worst of the floods along the river. We don’t really chat that much, we avoid confrontation instead, and have the radio on playing the top 40 hits until we’re out of range of the greater Dublin area, and then we listen to the smaller, country stations whose hosts have accents that even I can hardly understand. 

The sight of the familiar palm trees along the long, straight road towards the seaside has me sitting upright and pressing my forehead to the glass to marvel at how everything looks the very same as it used to, save the bits of foliage strewn across the road here and there. The sea is remarkably calm, lacking any of the white peaks of foam breaking on the surface, and the village is just as still. My memories are of a bustling, lively place, people crisscrossing the little roads with ice cream cones and cars backed up as far as the caravan parks, but today I spy only one person about, and he’s bundled in a dark coat with a wire-haired terrier on a leash, on their way towards the wet beach. 

Jude pulls into a roadside spot near the top of the steps that lead down to the quieter end of the strand. As we climb out of the car I glance up at a huge, vacant holiday home that immediately uncovers an ancient, buried memory. Those Italian boys we met on the beach stayed there, and that guy whose name I can no longer recall cooked us the most delicious pasta before that weird little guy tried to grab my arse. I’m still not as old now as those guys were back then, and the idea of hanging out with seventeen and eighteen-year-olds is unthinkable and weird to me now. How strange to think of it in this way, to look back at those men and wonder what they were thinking when they invited us to spend time with them.

Jude hops down the little wooden steps towards the beach house. It stands there proud and solid with its shutters drawn and all of its patio furniture stored away until the summer, and I follow along and stand by him as he unlocks the door as though he’s opening up an ancient tomb.

The house has that undefinable scent of a place that’s unoccupied, and when Jude opens the curtains to reveal that beautiful sea view, dust particles puff into the air and float through the beams of late morning sunshine. It’s tidy. Tidier than it was when I used to come here, but apart from that everything is the same. 

Jude explains what he’s doing as he does it. Checking the electricity. Looking in the freezer to see if it’s defrosted, searching for water damage, tile damage on the roof, testing the shower, everything works. The storm may have torn over this beach and ripped chunks from the dunes, but this house has stood here defiantly, unbothered by nature at its most brutal and unforgiving. 

“How’s it feel to be here?” He wants to know as he stands by the stairway, observing me in my place on the couch, and I tell him that it feels the same, but different, which is vague, but he accepts my answer because I suspect that it’s not really that important to him. He’s more interested in whether or not I am as hungry as he is. 

“If you like we can go to the boat club for something to eat.” He suggests. “It’s still early enough for them to be doing breakfast, I think.”

“I never ate there when we stayed. We only ever used the tennis courts.”

He shrugs. “It’s alright.”

My stomach growls. “Alright is enough for me.”

We head along the cracked, narrow road towards the end of the peninsula where the boat club stands with its back to the sea, with salt dried on its windows and a squeaky weathervane on the roof. 

I was here a few times before, because it has the nicer of the two tennis courts in the village, the other of which is in the middle of a campsite and was always full of pre-teens using it for anything but tennis, but I never felt like the boat club was somewhere I had any right to be. It has a particular type of snootiness about it that has me worried that I’ll be found out at any moment like everyone else who frequents it knows some secret that I don’t, and they’ll soon figure out I don’t belong with them and shoo me off the court like a wild dog.

We go in through the glass doors to the dining room and find a seat next to the window with a view out towards the lighthouse on a spit of land to the east. I glance through the menu and ask Jude for his recommendation, which is the pancakes. The waitress who takes our order is my age with a pretty face and blonde hair twisted up into a spiky bun. 

“Alright, so two pancakes.” She says, doing a slight double take when she lifts her eyes from her notepad and fixes them on Jude. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

He smiles. “Hi. Yeah, just down to check on the house since the storm.”

“Thought you lived in Germany now or something.”

“Yeah I do, I’m just back for a little while.”

“Oh right.” She wipes her hand on the front of her trousers. “You keeping well and all?” Her name tag is glossy gold. Clóda. 

“Sure, I’m fine. And you? Are you in college?”

“I never went in the end. I work weekends here, and then during the week I’m at the front desk in the resort hotel.”

“That’s cool. It’s nice that you’re staying so busy.” They smile at one another, and then she seems to remember she has things to do. “Right, so.” She says with a self-conscious smile. “I better go back to the till.” We thank her, and as she hurries off I look at Jude, who folds a napkin in half. Then again, pressing the side of his thumbnail along the edge to crease it. 

“Someone you used to know?”

“Yeah. We hung out one summer a few years ago.”

“Right.” There was tension between them. I bet they had sex. I insist to myself that I’m not jealous, but my heart jolts and something thick and heavy settles in my stomach. 

His eyes flicker to mine for a moment, holding incredulity in them and killing any desire I had to ask something else. I don’t dare to feel anything else about this waitress and the summer he spent ‘hanging out’ with her. We both know that I haven’t got the right to. Our unspoken words hang big and heavy between us now, but we don’t say them, opting instead we make benign remarks about the weather, the movement of the sea, the atmosphere in the boat club, and when Clóda returns with our food we talk about that, how it’s tasty but not as tasty as other pancakes we’ve had in more exciting places. When we leave, Jude heads towards the village through the car park, but I stop him. A gentle breeze brushes my hair over my shoulders.

“Would you mind if we walked along the beach?”

“It will take longer.”

“If you really want to get home, that’s okay. But If you’re not in a big rush I think it’d be nice. I miss being by the sea.”

He considers this. “Okay. If you want.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[backyard-homesteader]

Plum Harvest

I harvested the plums from the tree in the backyard this weekend. It wasn’t exactly the project I’d planned on spending my weekend on, but when the fruit is ripe, it’s ripe. So I armed myself with my homemade fruit picker, my eight-foot ladder, and bin for the plums. Then, with far too many animals underfoot, I got to work.

This must be a mast year for the tree, because I’ve never seen so many on there in the years I’ve been living in this place. For those who are new to the term, a mast year is when a tree produces a significantly larger than usual amount of fruits or nuts. They generally happen every five to ten years. Scientists still don’t know when exactly trees will decide on a mast year, but they suspect weather might play a role. Although producing such excessive amounts of seeds does stunt the trees growth that year, they produce far more than can be eaten by the local bird and rodent population, which increase the trees chances of creating new saplings! Some trees will even coordinate mast years for better chances of success. For anyone who wants a more detailed explanation, I’ll add some links at the bottom of the post. I hadn’t heard of mast years until this fall either, and it was a truly fascinating research hole to go down.

Even after weeks of carting away buckets of fruit that fell from the tree too small and unripe to eat, the branches were still sagging. Some of the lower ones were nearly bowed to the ground under the weight of all that fruit. Almost within reach of my younger puppy, and definitely within the means of the older one.

The ducks quacked at me in a somewhat annoyed fashion as I turned on an audiobook and set myself up to work. I find having something to listen to always makes the time go faster. After a few years of this, I’ve developed a bit of a method. I start low, working my way up the tree in stages, and moving the ladder as few times as I can safely get away with. I leave the top of the tree for very last, as it takes the longest to pick and generally has the least fruit.

My first bin was full within minutes. I could quite literally see the branches lifting as I worked. It’s honestly amazing none of them broke under the weight.

I ate a few off the tree as I worked, rinsing them off in the hose I’d left on to refill the duck pond. They were warm from the sun, sweet, and just on the right side of juicy. A few that had more direct sunlight were already too ripe, the skin splitting open under my fingers. Those ones I pulled the pits out and tossed to the dogs.

There was a brief sidetrack when I got caught on the blackberry vine that had climbed up through the branches. I dug out the shears and cut it down, Unfortunately, I didn’t manage to pull out the root, so I’m sure it will be back again next year. Then, while I had the shears out, I decided to do a bit of pruning and cut out some of the dead branches.

With that out of the way, I jumped back into picking. Fruit trees are deceptive creatures. You’ll think you’ve stripped a branch only to climb off the ladder, look up, and see twenty plums you missed hiding under the leaves.

There was another slowdown when I got to the top of the tree, the area that I need the fruit picker to reach. I made it a few years ago, from some old wire coat hangers, a straightish branch, and some duct tape. Despite its cobbled together look, it has served me well. Unfortunately, maybe due to previous use, or the tape getting old, several of the hooks decided to come out on me. I stuck them back in and wrapped some more tape on, but they didn’t want to stick back on quite they way they were. I might just take the whole thing apart and start from scratch later, when I have more time.

Despite the setbacks, I managed to get the tree stripped over the course of the day. Taking all the extra fruit into account, I managed to pick twice as quickly as I did last year. I’m getting better, and I’m pretty proud of myself for that.

The dogs were a lot less underfoot this year as well. I remember last year, when I’d just gotten my first puppy. She’d been constantly getting tangled around the tree and stealing my fruit picker. I probably spent as much time playing with her as I did picking. This year, with two, they mostly kept each other entertained and out of the way. There was only one time I had to wrangle them, when they kept digging holes under the deck. After telling them to knock it off a few times, I went over to fill in the holes, only to find out they’d been digging up potatoes. I have no idea how so many potatoes ended up buried under the deck. The dogs stashing them away for later maybe?

I’m really excited about my plum harvest this year though. By the time I was done picking, I had six full bins of fruit. Between my snacking and a couple of friends coming by to pick some up, three of them never even made it into the house. But that still leaves three bins with me, even more than I had last year.

I tend to go a little over the top eating fresh plums this time of year. And when I get sick of that, there’s plum pinwheels and plum compote. Most of them will end up getting canned, as fresh plums don’t keep for very long.

I have a lot of canning in my immediate future.

https://www.woodlandtrust.org.uk/blog/2020/10/what-is-a-mast-year/

https://www.bbg.org/article/the_mysteries_of_masting_in_trees

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/this-fall-is-full-of-acorns-thanks-to-a-mast-year/

[simmos-blog]

Close Encounters with Cows.

7/5/24

14.2 miles today

I ate too much again last night with a large Fish and Chips plus I was eating up the left over food in the house. Still I did have a night off the drink.

I was ready and off by 9am. The house has been great and I was a bit sad to leave. The route was up to the station and then out into the countryside with the Pennines in the distance. I wasn’t going high today and the guide book predicted a walk of 13.2miles which meant I had plenty of time.

I decided on a 3 stop strategy but this was not to be. I simply couldn’t find anywhere to sit and by the time I stopped at Kirkby Thor I was about halfway mileage wise. It had been easy if slightly dull walking along farm tracks and through fields. One track was flooded and I tried to shuffle along the edge by holding onto the trees at the side. This strategy fell apart when I came to a hawthorn bush where I got spiked by the thorns and ended up stepping back into the water. I was pleased it didn’t go over the top of my boots which proved a bit of a hollow victory considering the rest of the day.

I was looking forward to a stretch walking along the river Eden but as I crossed the A66 and climbed over a stile my excitement waned. It was a sea of mud and cow pats as far as I could see. I squelched and slipped my way across this morass eventually reaching the bank of the Eden. My relief was short lived as I realised I now had to go through a field of about 60 cows with the gate 2or3 hundred yards away. I set off briskly but quite quickly a couple of young (but large) cows approached me. This was mildly disconcerting but then I saw Mum (6ft high and weighing about a ton) get interested and start trotting towards me. I quickened my pace and shooed a couple of other cows out of my path. I was now moving at the pace of an Olympic walker but as I looked around I had 4or5 full size cows trotting after me with several youngsters behind. I didn’t want to run but with the gate 50 or so yards away I was wondering if I would make it. I got to the gate which was stiff and opened inwards but I managed to open it a foot and squeeze through. I slammed it shut and turned to face dozens of cows arriving at speed ( see photos). I don’t know if they were chasing me off or just curious but either way there was a serious risk of me being trampled.

I tried shooing them from my side of the gate but they weren’t moving. After gathering my wits I pressed on but only to face another field full of cows a few hundred yards down the river. I now had a dilemma. I couldn’t go back as I didn’t want a repeat of my previous experience. I picked up a large tree branch climbed the stile and started to tiptoe around the edge of the field. I got about 50 yards before a young cow spotted me and trotted over. His Mum was also showing interest and was up on her feet looking at me. I realised I could not make the field exit so I straddled the barbed wire fence out of harms way. Unfortunately I was now on a small bit of land with the river on three sides of me and cows on the other. I waited hoping the cows would get bored but in fact more got interested and if I went back into the field there was no escape route. The barbed wire fence was right on the edge of the river with about an 8 ft drop to the water.

After much pondering I decided there was no option but to go into the river. Luckily I was at a very wide bit so the water seemed shallower. I emptied my pockets into my rucksack grabbed my stick and stepped into the water heading for the opposite bank. There was quite a current and I was glad I had my stick. The water was just above my knees but I made it over without incident but then I had a tricky and muddy climb up the other bank. Whilst I was squelching along my spirits were high to have dodged the cows. This euphoria was short lived. I came to a stream which I was confident I could cross but as I stepped into the water about 10 cows heads appeared over the fence. There wasn’t actually a footpath on this side of the river and I couldn’t easily get into the field but several bellowing cows told me it wasn’t a good idea anyway.

I retraced my steps and decided the best option was to cross the river again but at an angle so I would be near the end of the cows field and could make a dash for it. So it was back into the water with my essential stick and I crossed trying to arrive at the bank the other side 100 yards further up. It went reasonably well and I climbed into a bit of scrubland on the other side. It was treacherous in there and I fell twice, once into a bed of nettles, but it got me further down the river before I was forced to step back into the cow field. It turned out not to be a problem as the cows were too far away to be bothered with me and I was quickly out of the field and back on a muddy but safe path.

Just at that point I got a message from Shep saying he had got Wordle in 2. This was about as miraculous as my escape from the cows so I rang him. I needed to tell someone about my experience and Shep was just the man as he showed just the right amount of concern amongst his obvious amusement.

After that everything was an anti climax. I walked through a National Trust property and I was soon at The Black Swan Culgaith where I’ve enjoyed an excellent meal.

It was quite a long walk today and I was feeling tired at the finish, perhaps it’s all the excitement. I’ve washed my socks but I don’t think the boots will dry now before I’m back in Deeping!!

Looking forward to walking with Tony tomorrow.

[razorsadness]

I've not been writing many personal posts, because between writing a poem draft a day for the Tupelo Press 30/30, working on future Substacks and mini-zines, random scribblings in my private journal, and daily life and work stuff, well. I have had neither the time nor the inclination.

So this will just be short. Things are pretty good these days. I've been getting through this Mercury Rx with minimal troubles, knock on wood (not like last go-round when I completely lost my shit and had a nervous breakdown). Of course there has been some bullshit, but that's life, Mercury Rx or no—one of my recurring health issues has returned (fortunately it's not one of the Very Concerning or painful ones, just annoying and uncomfortable), I'm stressed about money and everything I need to do as per usual, the kids have been a little extra cranky, and I've had a lot of sleepless, toss n' turn nights. But it has been manageable.

The main Mercury Rx-related things that have arisen are general tech issues, and falling too deep down the nostalgic rabbit-hole and getting sad.

But there have been a lot of good things.

Like getting to see my best L. at the end of March. We ate sushi and talked and listened to music, and it was perfect. I got her turned on to Einstürzende Neubauten! She had never heard them and since I was getting all stoked for the release of Rampen I played her "Ist Ist," plus a bunch of stuff from Alles in Allem, and a few older tracks (though I stayed away from their super-strange-noise earlier albums, because I know her well enough to know she probably wouldn't dig that stuff as much). But anyway, she dug it! She said: "This is weird, but...in a way that I really, really like." My work here is done.

Like Easter—the kids had a great day, and it was one of the least stressful holidays I've ever spent with my parents.

Like taking the kids to Frank's Diner, and getting to watch them experience my favorite breakfast joint. Like the solar eclipse; watching the shadows go blurry and the world get dusk-dark in the middle of the afternoon, without a cloud in the sky.

Like all the writing—as hard as it might be, having to draft at least one poem a day has been really good for me. I've got the seeds of some things I think may be really quite good, one day.

Like all the small things—happy moments with the kids, sunny days, long walks, birdwatching (Friend Crow has returned to the tree behind our house!), books and films and delicious food.

And, of course, it's spring, and I've got that good ol' restless melancholy. I know, I'm melancholic and restless in every season, but in spring it's the most acute. I wanna go, anywhere (I don't care I don't care I don't care), or, to quote Kim Addonizio: it's spring, and it's starting again—the longing that begins, and begins, and begins.

Yesterday I found out that the downtown YMCA, where I used to see a lot of shows as a teen, is getting torn down, and man, I am having feelings. The poem draft I wrote last night, that went up today, is about that. Today I decided to go downtown and take some pictures of it while it's still there. They have it encircled in a tall fence topped with razor wire, but I walked all around the outside, taking pictures, and I also got some further ideas about stuff to write re: my history there but also ghosts and memory and whatnot. I'm eventually going to put it all together in a hybrid photo-and-text essay, which will probably be published as a mini-zine. I thought about how, in my younger years, I would have returned under cover of night to explore and take pictures inside the building. I either would have brought wire cutters to make a hole in the fence, or just braved the razor wire and climbed it. (And then I immediately thought of "On the Ave." At the reservoir you impaled your wrist / on razor wire climbing the fence...) But I'm not as brave as I once was, when it comes to things like that. It's not fear of injury, or even fear of who or what I may encounter inside the building; it's more that, since having kids, I'm not willing to risk getting arrested for shit like that. Taking photos of the outside wasn't as romantic as going inside would have been, but it scratched my exploration itch, and gave me artistic inspiration, so it was good enough.

After that I grabbed an oat milk cappuccino from a downtown cafe, then got back in my car and headed off on various errands. I listened to an old mix tape that a pen pal made me back during the same time frame I was going to shows at the Y (or, well, the 8tracks version of said tape, as I no longer have a car with a cassette player in it), and I'll be damned if those songs didn't sound just as good as they did the first, tenth, one hundredth time I heard them. And the world was full of signs, today, quite literally—a sign outside a church that said Delight in the Small Things, and a sign outside a diner that read Never Let Your Heart Harden. And it was all so much deja vu; driving through those neighborhoods I know so well, remembering what I used to do there, remembering what used to be there, while listening to those songs I know so well. I've been writing so much about my teen years lately, and it's funny, because when I lived here as a teen, I thought I hated this town. There were things I loved about it, but mostly, I just wanted to get out. I was also adamant that I was not from here. After all, I wasn't born here, and only lived here for seven years before moving away the first time. I never envisioned that I'd one day move back here for real, let alone that I'd come to love it for real. I may not live here for the rest of my life (and in fact I don't plan to), but, yeah, at this point it's my hometown, for better or worse.

[thebunnylord]

Best oc that became a fan favorite in my little circle of online friends

Way back during my countryhumans days, I had this cat oc named Krampus. Krampus was Austria’s cat and the story goes was that one night Austria went to a bar, got black out drunk, fell asleep and woke up to find this long haired black scruffy kitten on his bed, Austria does not own a cat, nor does he remember acquiring said cat

Krampus hates everyone and everything that wasn’t long naps in the sun or salmon treats and was basically an old man trapped in a cat’s body

Krampus once cornered Germany in the bathroom one night while Germany was staying at Austria’s house and hissed at him

Krampus hates the Canadian national anthem

Krampus used to try and trip Austria’s BLIND FATHER ON PURPOSE

Krampus hates his bell collar and ate the bell

Krampus hates Austria’s Austro-Hungarian flag that he has hung up on his bedroom ceiling and would do everything in his will power to tear it down only to get snagged and scream until someone gets him down

Krampus hates classical music and would scream while Austria-Hungary is playing the piano

Krampus stole Austria-Hungary’s eyepatches and buried them in the litter box

One time while Krampus was outside trying to avoid walking on grass, Austria saw a group of dog walkers with their five big dogs walking up the street and he yelled “get your dogs out of here! I have a cat!” And before the dog walkers could explain that their dogs were calm and won’t harm the cat, Krampus flies out of nowhere and beats the living crap out of the dogs.

During one Christmas when they had a fire in the fireplace, Krampus just sat in front of it and starred at the flames for hours

Krampus once got out and climbed a huge pine tree that had a few high voltage power lines running through it, so Austria sends Hungary to risk his life by climbing up to the top of the tree, get dangerously close to the high voltage power lines while holding onto a pillowcase with one hand and the tree in the other all while Krampus is swatting at him and hissing and biting leaving Hungary resorting to yelling “KRAMPUS!! GET IN THE BAG!!” I can’t remember if Hungary just flung Krampus in the bag, or chopped the top of the tree down to reach Krampus. I know it was heavily inspired by the time my Brother had to get his son’s cat, Chris Farley, down from a tall pine tree with high voltage wires running just below him.

When My readers found out that Krampus was put down due to cancer, they were so mad at me. Even my mom was when I told her about Krampus, she said that Cats have nine lives so why not just bring Krampus back?

When Krampus got to heaven he went “so this is heaven, I hate it.”

There was going to be a follow up story where it’s the day Austria had to put Krampus down, and at the end it showed that Austrian Empire was there in the afterlife to look after Krampus.

When I told some redditors about Krampus without saying any of the character’s names or what fandom, one of them said “I don’t know anything about your fanfic or which fandom this is but I love Krampus”

I have decided that if I get another bunny, I’m naming them Krampus.

Krampus became so popular that one of my readers included him in a oneshot and another one of my readers on Wattpad drew this fanart of Krampus

[tea-with-eleni]

Shoutout to our madlad neighbor Ben across the street who is probably responsible for the murder hornet my mother stepped on in our kitchen. At least, we think it was a murder hornet. It was too big and the sting was too painful for it to be much else.

we don't know he's responsible but he also brought in an obscene amount of sod over the last week so it's probably his fault somehow.

Other things Ben has done:

Installed new electrical wiring in his own attic. He is not an electrician.

Burned down his house via the faulty electrical wiring on Christmas Day 2018.

Designed a new house to go on top of the foundation despite the fact that he is neither an artist nor an architect. Our next door neighbor, an architect, told us this with mild horror. The man around the corner, our incredibly classy dentist, was likewise Aesthetically Offended.

Hired like two people to build the Arthur Dent eyesore of a house over the course of 2019.

Cut down a tree in his sideyard he didn't like by climbing said tree with a chainsaw and sawing off branches one at a time. Including the branch he was sitting on. My parents were getting their Best Lesbian Friend to help with some tree branches that fell in their yard at the time because she had a collection of chainsaws and is always down for a good time. She got distracted watching Ben because, "He's going to die."

Built his child one of those wooden backyard playset things.

Rented a cherry picker to deal with the rest of the branches on the tree in his sideyard. My parents had, at that point, hired some very nice people to help paint their house. They sat on our front porch and watched Ben run over the playset with the cherry picker. Also his fence. To quote one of them, "My brother could do that pretty cheap, but I'm not going to tell him. This is more fun."

Tore the bumper off his car trying to remove the stump left from his sideyard tree

Destroyed the fence, again, after renting some kind of heavy machinery to level part of his backyard.

Bought a plastic skeleton for his front yard in 2020. Moved and posed it every day in October. My parents noticed that he left the door for one of the trucks he'd rented unlocked and took the golden opportunity to prop the skeleton up in the driver's seat.

Bought some kind of very sweet and very cute large fluffy dog. Had to get surgery for the dog after it ate two pairs of socks and a towel. The dog has now recovered but is baffled by the way his lovely backyard fence keeps getting crushed by construction equipment.

To continue the skeleton army, he also bought one of those 12' skeletons last year. It was also posed daily along with the other, human-sized skeleton.

We're not really sure how Ben is still alive despite his best efforts. At any rate, murder hornets seem par for the course. He's actually a nice guy, just insane. The working theory is that he comes from family money and was one of those sheltered rich kids who was never allowed to play in the dirt as a child and is making up for lost time now.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Reckoning

Breach Masterlist

Warnings: non/dubcon sex (series), general angst, violence, death, trauma.

This is dark!Winter Soldier/Bucky and explicit. 18+ only.

Note: Promise I’ll update the masterlist today but here we are, we’re finally at the end. We’re saying goodbye to Bucky, Luka, and reader in this one. We’ve come a far way. This was one of the first series I started on here. It started as a one shot about the asset being the scariest but you guys turned it into something more, so thank you. (also that’s three endings in less than a week :))

I won’t demand but do ask for feedback; likes, reblogs, replies, comments, asks, especially on this series, but again, enjoy in your own way! <3 Love you!

You played with the leather strap around your thigh as you sat in the rattly train car. The freight was much like the one that saw you away from your prison so long ago and the same man sat with you, huddled behind the metal barrels and wooden crates. 

Your eyes rolled inside their lids as you thought of your son and his innocent voice as he sang his goodbye to you. Luka didn’t know you might not come back. It broke your heart to think you might not but you couldn’t let James face Hydra alone. He hadn’t let you.

Your hand settled over the gun strapped to your leg, another holstered against your chest beneath your jacket. There was a knife at your ankle and another at your belt. You were ready but you weren’t. How could you ever be ready for any of this?

“We’re almost there,” James whispered as he shifted beside you, “you alright?”

“Yeah, I…” you opened your eyes and tore your hand away from the gun, “ready.”

He nodded and got up to his feet, squatting behind the cargo as he pulled you up into a similar crouch. He checked your weapons then his own. He looked at you again and his lips thinned into an anxious line.

“Are you ready?” you asked.

“I have to be,” he answered and reached out to caress your cheek. You leaned into his hand then pulled him to you to peck his lips. He always seemed so meek when you touched him but he was softening.

“We are ready, James,” you assured him as much as yourself, “for Luka, we have to be.”

“You follow my lead. You can’t hesitate, understand?”

“I know,” you said, “I won’t. Those men, what they did to you… to us, they can never have our son. Never.”

“Never,” he echoed and turned. 

He kept low as he crept around the boxes and you followed. He unhooked the door and let it slide open with a loud grind. He reached back until you grabbed onto his arm and he stared at the moving ground.

“Up ahead, the bushes. You first, I’ll be right after you,” he said.

“I remember,” you said, “I know where we are.”

He looked at you and you let out a breath as you readied for your jump, “I lived close to here… with my mother.”

“Oh,” he uttered and went quiet.

“Come on,” you stood but kept hunched as you prepared to roll on impact, “this is about ending the past, not reliving it.”

He counted down and you leapt as the bushes thickened. You landed and rolled through the branches and dingy leaves. You heard him thumped down not far from you as you gulped the air. He was up before you and came to stand over you and offered his hand to get you to your feet. Despite it all, you barely felt the crash to earth.

“So you know where we are,” he said, “so you know where we go first.”

You pushed your shoulders back and sniffed. You said nothing and marched past him. He ran to catch up to you and you walked into the thin skeletal line of trees. He fixed the long bag on his back that held his rifle as his boots crushed the twigs and stones.

“Are you sure you’re--”

“What do we need from there?” you asked, “we get it and we go on.”

“Anything that’s left,” he replied.

You kept on, the terrain turning uneven and soon you were in the rocky passes that brought back bloody memories. That night with Luka in your arms as you walked in the boots of a deadman. You shuddered and kept on. You unholstered your gun as you got closer and James caught your shoulder before you could outpace him.

“I take the lead,” he warned, “you gotta slow down. You can’t just run in there and--”

“If there are any left, I will put them all down,” you swore as your hand shook, “you can’t understand. I have anger in my veins like none I’ve known before.”

He stared at you a moment and thoughts drew his brows together. His lips parted before he found the words, “and what else do you feel?”

“Certain,” you said, “that this will be over soon.”

He lowered his chin and puffed, his breath forming a cloud in the chill air, “this post is abandoned. They couldn’t have stayed after what happened but you stay alert and you point your gun at anything that moves.”

You nodded and he patted your arm. He turned and took the path ahead of you, the trail thinning out the further you got into the low mountains. As you approached the metal doors, he slowed and aimed his gun at the facade of the hidden compound. Rocks clattered beneath his boots and you brought your own weapon up in nervous expectation.

The doors were slightly open and he kicked one open, quickly poking his muzzle inside. He waved you on and you continued down the concrete hallway. The place was cleaned out but the bloodstains remained, painted across the floors and walls.

He led you down the corridors and checked each room as you waited without, watching each end of the hallway as he cleared the place. The further you got, the more the forlorn nostalgia took over you. You felt off, you felt every drop of blood coursing through you and the hot fury mingled with helpless sadness. You felt entirely weak but so powerful

When you got to the heart of the structure, you stopped and watched as James hesitated in turn. He braced himself and went forward into the eerily familiar room. The computers were smashed and the rusty medical equipment littered the floor. The glass chamber they used to keep him in bore the destruction of his escape and he went to it and peered inside.

You flinched as he broke away the last of the glass with his metal fist and quickly retreated. He was shaking as he began to tear open the filing cabinets, the locks cracking at the force of his intrusion.

You walked along the wall and slowly faced the windowed room. The bed was still there and the sparse furniture of your former existence. Your mouth fell open as your eyes tingled with tears. Those early days when you waited, when you dreaded his visits, when you watched him through the glass and wished for death.

You winced as he came up beside you and gently touched your arm. You looked at him and flicked away the moisture in your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said and his cheek twitched in pain, “I’m so sorry--”

“James, I know it wasn’t you,” you said, “I don’t cry because of you, it is because of them.” You took his hand and squeezed it, “did you find anything?”

“A few things but not what we’re looking for,” he said, “this place is abandoned. Whatever was left of… the experiment has moved.”

“And we know it will be where we’re headed?”

“Stark’s intelligence suggests it will be and… from what I can remember, it’s likely. Bigger than this place. They took me there in the early days.” He cleared his throat and looked around, “we’ll keep going until dawn. We will find somewhere close enough to rest and then…”

“And then we finish this,” you let go of his hand and moved past him, “James, I’m ready. I really am.”

✰

After some hours in a half-burned hut, you were wired. You ate rations under the open roof before you set out again. You hadn’t slept much as you and James took turns on watch. You stretched and went out into the wild and winding paths.

You climbed the steep incline of and followed the crumbling trail. As you got higher, it got colder but you hardly felt it as adrenaline surged in your approach. You ducked down as you walked along a crooked ledge and hopped off to hide behind a tall stone outshoot.

You looked down at the monstrous gates of the compound. You laid flat as James fixed the scope on his rifle and peered through the lens. He bit his lip as he adjusted his sights before he pulled his eye away.

“I can get the guards but we have to be quick after.” He nodded behind you, “down there. Quick. Gun out and ready. I’ll be right behind you.”

“We can do this, James.”

He lined up his gun again and inhaled. He took his first shot, the noise muffled by the long silencer. Several others followed before he stood quickly and hung the gun from his shoulder. He pulled you up and you ran to the decline that led between the sharp walls of the mountain.

He was a few steps back as you made you way down the treacherous natural steps and slid down the last few. You slipped to your knees as voices sounded from the gates and James fired again.

You got up as he latched onto your elbow and continued forward. He reached to his belt and unhooked a grenade, throwing it at the gates as you ran behind him. You hung back as the metal gates shook with the blast and he directed you forward with two fingers.

As you reached the rent in the doors, he stopped and took two more shots. Men fell into the cold dirt and you raised your gun to take your first. You remembered all those hours of training though you never truly knew how useful they would be. It was always a precaution, always a what if, now it was your life or death.

You pulled the trigger and another man crumpled. You kept close to James and picked off the last few men outside the installation. A sudden siren began to whine as you neared the open doors and you could guess that one of the guards had fled inside to warn all those within.

James directed you inside and as you made your way down the corridor, you stopped at the end and listened. You couldn’t think of the hammering of your heart or the thought of the death at you fingertips. You could only think; left or right.

“We need to separate,” you said.

“No, you can’t--”

“This place is too big, I’ll slow you down and you’ll slow me,” you insisted, “I’ll go right.”

“No, we have to--”

“You showed me, James. I know what to do. I know what we need. We have our rendezvous. We know what happens if we do not get there.”

He shook his head and sighed. You heard footsteps.

“We have to go,” you said and before he could argue further, you raised your gun and ran around the corner.

The first man hit the wall after the bullet entered his chest, the second fell over him with your next shot, and the third slumped against the next corner. You heard James’ boots and his own shots as they flew in the other direction. You pressed on and reloaded before you took the next turn.

Your pulse filled your ears and kept you going. Everything felt so clear, so visible, so loud. You saw and heard it all. It was almost as if you knew what would happen before it did. You’d never felt this level of clarity.

You went deeper into the maze, bodies littered in your stead as others fled, those in white jackets, those like the men who’d tortured you. You followed them, they would lead you to what you needed.

A man surprised you as he lunged from a doorway. He slammed you into the wall and your gun fired into the ceiling. You kicked him and he grunted and you grabbed his arm as his hand stretched over your throat. Without pause, without thought, you twisted his arm and he screamed in agony as both his wrist and elbow snapped.

You shoved him away and finished the work with a bullet. You stared at his arm as the shock sunk in. How could you have done all that? It hadn’t felt like anything at all, like bending a toothpick.

You didn’t have time to linger as another appeared and you fired again. Warm blood spattered your front as your legs kept pushing through. You came to a large room but bullets preceded you. 

You peeked inside, James was already there. A flurry of men were engaged with him, those in camouflage and those in white. You downed two men before your gun was kicked from your hands. You grunted and ducked under a punch you didn’t even see was coming, you just knew. You reached to your belt and freed the long hunting knife.

The blade tore through the man's flesh like water. The sickly glide of the metal sickened you and the flood of warmth down our arm churned your stomach. You couldn’t stop, even as your fear rose, even as you realised the destruction you wrought.

Another man, this one broken by a kick that sent him into the wall. Your strength startled even you. You heard James and looked around. He was on his back, barely kicking away his attackers as he aimed desperately with his pistol. 

You broke through the wall of man, shoving them to the side so that they flew back into the machinery all around. You threw your knife at a man as he aimed at James and you wrenched back another and twisted his neck until it cracked. The third you broke over your knee.

You rolled away from them and freed the gun at your chest; one, two, three, four. They all fell dead at the pull of your trigger. James stared at you and sat up. He raised his gun as your own was too slow and you felt an arm around your neck, the pointed tip against your chin.

“Don’t,” the man warned as his white sleeve scratched at your throat, “she dies.”

James kept his aim steady as he got to his feet. The man choked you and pulled you a step back.

“Drop the gun,” he ordered in Russian. You gulped and tossed it down as the metal cut into your flesh just a little, “ah, always thought you would be back. Always expected it.”

“Let her go,” James said, “you can’t--”

“That is the problem, you see? The human emotion dampens the serum. We don’t need the mind, only the body--”

You were quick. You slid your hand up under the knife and fell to your knees, taking the man with you as the blade dug into your fingers. The shot knocked him off of you entirely and the knife fell free, your blood pouring down your hand. You sat back on your heels and reached for your gun with your uninjured hand.

“We get the files and get out,” James helped you up, “more will be coming.”

He drew you past the corpses and began to search the desk and cabinets. He took a black folder and you helped break open several of the computers to remove their hard drives. He packed it all into the compact pack on your back and zipped it up.

He shot past your head as more soldiers appeared. He nudged you forward and yelled, “come on.”

You raced away from the east wing and barrelled down the winding corridors, following the trail of bodies left by your entrance. You added several more to the floor until you reached the front door. Gunfire followed your departure, met only in defensive retreat.

You carried on past the gate and into the rocky impasse. A sudden blast shook the ground and James caught your arm and urged you on. You didn’t look back as the shots faded into thundering booms and bangs.

You kept on until you couldn’t hear the carnage, until it was silent but for the whistling of the mountain air, until the adrenaline was gone and your hand seared with pain, the rest of the unnoticed aches rising to the surface. 

James stopped you and pulled you into a dark cave. He fished out his flashlight and little up the stony walls as he led you further inside. He pushed his head back and took a breath and he let the flashlight rest on its side and cast a plume over the dark space.

“We have to bandage your hand before we press on,” he said, “we get to the bottom at nightfall and keep going.”

“What was that?” you asked as he pulled out his aid kit from his pocket.

“My orders were to burn that place to the ground,” he said, “lucky the blast didn’t take the whole mountain down.”

He took your hand and wiped your fingers clean before he wrapped them in gauze. You were silent throughout as your heart slowed and you had a moment to think.

“James, what--” you blinked and looked down as he moved around you to unzip your bag, “I’m not mad. What was that?”

“No, you’re not,” he said as he pulled the folder out of the bag and went back around you, “it’s why we need to burn these.”

“What is it?” you asked.

He handed it over silently and retrieved his flashlight. He held it over the folder as you opened it. Your picture was at the front of the pile of papers, several signed by Ilyich, detailing the progression of your pregnancy. There were several explaining how the growth of the enhanced fetus affected the carrier. How the serum seemed to have molded with the DNA of the subject.

You looked up at James and frowned. It couldn’t be. 

“You never noticed before and I never wanted to make you,” he admitted, “I thought you would hate to be like me and that would be just another thing I did to you.”

“James…”

“I know, it was the soldier but it still feels like me,” he took the folder from you and closed it. “So I will keep you from one misery in this life. We destroy this now and when we reach the rendezvous, I delete any of that from those hard drives.”

“What do you--”

“We’re going back to Luka,” he said, “they can’t know because they will want to know more. They will want to try it again. Doesn’t matter if it’s Hydra or Stark.”

You nodded and he dug out his lighter. He lit the first page and watched it wilt into ash. You sat on a flat rock and rubbed your gloved hands together. You watched him burn the file a sheet at a time.

“I was reading about Canada. There was a program on the TV Luka was watching,” you said as added the last page and he stood, “what do you think? A nice little house for us. I hear it snows there. I love the snow.”

He clapped off his hands and reached for you. He drew you up and zipped your jacket up to your chin. He framed your face and smiled down at you in the glow of the flashlight hooked on his hip, “If you’ll be there, it sounds wonderful.”

✰✰✰

END

Thank you again for all your patience and support with this series. I’m sad but happy to be done. Let’s all imagine Luka getting to sled with Bucky up in the Great North and be at peace.

[emmikmil]

kiss it all better

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings: brief food mention, Injuries mentioned along with blood and needles. (however nothing is graphically detailed.) Things get a small touch steamy in the kissing department, a mention of pregnancy. 

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: A normal patrol goes very wrong in the desad of winter, lbut luckily for you Joel is there to patch all your wounds.

A/N: Dedicated to @knivesareout​ for our discord exchange! Love you sm babes and I hope you enjoy!!!

All you’ve done for what seems like hours now is run. Your lungs burn as you heave, drawing in ragged breaths of the cold air. You hear a couple rogue gunshots in the far distance but you don’t let your mind dwell on it. You’re in survival mode now, running on nothing but adrenaline and fear as you keep pushing forward.

You carefully walk through the treeline, looking for any sign of the horde that blindsided you and Joel. You take a breather and lean against a tree, finally assessing the damage to your knee. It took a while for you to notice how torn up your knee got in your hurry to get away. The barbed wire fence tore your jeans and skin to shreds, blood matted to the material and dried down your leg. You breathe through the pain and set your sights on climbing up the hill, knowing it's the last obstacle before you reach the safe house. As the snow picks up, swirling hard around you, you trudge up the hill and hope Joel is there waiting for you.  

The morning had started off normally. You were able to laze around and sleep in for awhile, and read your book by the fire. You were scheduled to patrol with Joel for the afternoon shift and that sent butterflies in your stomach. Joel usually patrolled with his brother, so that would be a rare treat. Even if you two didn't patrol together much you got along well. Joel was quiet like you, just wanted a slow life for himself and Ellie.

The conversations between you two were slow to start, but once you two got on the topic of music your bond grew. You both opened up more and more over the months, usually meeting at night at the bar to talk,or play a card game. 

You got your dear horse Murphy from the stables and walked out to Joel. You strolled up beside him, heart beating fast as his eyes met yours.

 “Afternoon darlin’, we best make this quick. Looks like a storm's brewing,” you looked up at the dark wintery sky and agreed, by nightfall there would be at least a few inches of snow on the ground. You turned back to him to see him holding something in his hand. “You ate lunch yet? Got you a sandwich.” his hazel eyes warmed your body faster than the fire you made earlier.

You took the sandwich and gave your thanks, even though you forced the dry bread down. 

Was he flirting again? Did he do this with Tommy too? How many times do you read small gestures as flirting?

You spent too much time fantasizing about Joel, analyzed far too many compliments and prolonged stares.

That doubt swirled in your mind as Tommy gave the warnings for the patrol. Apparently there was a horde spotted earlier, but it shouldn't be a problem since they appeared to be moving away from both town and the routes.

Tommy could not have been more wrong about that. You and Joel rode through the route, chatting about what you both did this morning- reading for you and building a guitar for him- but halfway through the route, was when shit went down. A noise at a nearby building drew your attention and as you rounded the corner horror set in. There had to have been about 40 infected, mostly runners and clickers.

Before you could react, a runner came from your left, spooked Murphy and threw you off. As your body hit the pavement, you heard Joel’s frantic shouts, his horse flew around to act as a barrier between you and the horde. You recovered quickly, adrenaline spiked in your system. “Dammit, you gotta run, I’ll draw them away!” to your horror Joel jumped off his horse, sending it in one direction as he ran away from you. 

For a split second your eyes met through the mass and your heart felt like it froze inside of you. With his warm hazel eyes laced in fear and determination, he waved his arms and yelled to attract as many infected as he could. You had no doubts that Joel would sacrifice himself to save you,  and you never wanted that. The wave of panic of taking too long, not confessing your feelings or affections bubbled up but you had no time for being sentimental. All you could do is hope you'd see him again and keep yourself alive. 

The knife from your boot swiftly met the runner coming at you. The tears burned in your throat as you lost sight of him, but you killed the infected closest to you and ran. Ran until your lungs gave out and tears flowed like the blood from your wound.

You barely make it to the top of the hill, every muscle aching as the snow begins to fall harder from the darkening sky. The lookout point is in front of you and you drag your weary body to the door. You spot both of the horses tied up and waiting and it makes your heart flutter. Odds are Joel is already here and waiting but you can't take any chances.

You have your gun at the ready as you limp up the stairs and push open the door to the main room. “Joel? You in here?'' You keep your back to the wall and scan the area. You’re on high alert when you hear footsteps around the corner but you lower the weapon as you hear his voice.

“Thank Christ, you alright?'' somehow even in this weather his hands are warm and they're everywhere; pulling at your jacket, looking at your collarbone and neck searching for any bite marks. However, his movements stop when he catches sight of your knee. “You fall or…” he’s hesitant to even form the words but you're quick to assure him.

“Barbed wire fence, was trying to get away from a clicker. That’s all it is, I promise.” he nods his head, salt and pepper hair falling in his face. He takes a calming breath, eyes still a little wide from panic. His shaking hands cup your face for a moment and then wrap around your body, surrounding you in his warmth. You aren’t a hug kind of person, that touch long since forgotten in the apocalypse but Joel’s is nice. It feels safe which is a rarity in this world. “Let’s get you settled so I can take a look at that knee,” he’s pulling away but his hand hovers near your lower back, guiding you to sit on an armchair by the fireplace.

Joel goes to a cupboard in the makeshift kitchen and pulls out the first aid kit, but he stops before coming back. He leans over the counter and peers out the frosty window.

You take this moment to admire his form. His tall and broad body is hidden underneath the layers for the winter, but you know what he's rocking underneath. The summer was a blessing with his thin and worn shirts. You still dream about that thin material stretching over the bulge of his bicep. Any naughty thoughts forming disappear as he cocks his hip, lost in thought at the snowfall, and you swallow a giggle. How can a man be sexy but also endearingly cute at the same time?

He finally turns and strides over to the fireplace, instructing you to take off your pants as he turns his attention to starting a fire. “Storms lookin' worse. I think it’s best if we stay in, especially with you hurt. Should clear up by morning.'' you give the all clear and he turns back around, sitting on the low ottoman in front of you. 

You hiss as he slowly brings your leg to settle in his lap and Joel gently rubs just below your knee with his thumb. He’s doing his best to comfort you, and while it is appreciated, you do in fact only have your underwear on. You feel a little bashful being so exposed, self consciousness warming your cheeks.

Joel however is a gentleman, his eyes never straying from your knee as he assesses and cleans your wound. The room is quiet, only the sounds of the fire crackling beside you and the wind howling outside. The storm has picked up in ferocity and you’re happy you got here when you did. 

To distract you while he begins stitching up your jagged wounds you ask him some questions. Mostly just how he found the horses - they were waiting patiently on the trail together nearby- and if there was any food in the cabinets - a couple cans of old soup - but Joel is good about filling in the silence. 

After he puts down the needle he begins to look over your wound again,but he stops just above where he was working. “That’s a nasty looking scar, when did you get that?” you peer down as he wraps a bandage around your new injury, spotting the jagged scar he's referring to. You tell him the tale of riding your bike and crashing directly into a brick wall as a kid. Joel shakes his head and laughs along with you at the memory, asking “why the hell didn’t you use your brakes?”

You grin sheepishly and shrug your shoulders, “New bike and the brakes were different than my old one, I had no clue until it was too late.” your head is propped up on your hand, so lost in thought you don’t see the affection shining in Joel’s eyes “I remember after i got home from the hospital, all stitched up and bandaged like this. My mom fretted over me, she sent me to go rest and kissed the bandage, told me it was all better...'' you shake your head from the memories, coming back to reality to see Joel’s sad smile. His eyes are downcast, looking at your wrapped knee.

To both of your surprises, Joel runs a finger lightly over the bandage and bends to place a feather light kiss on the knee, thumb rubbing your skin again in comfort. “There ya are darlin’, you’re all healed now.” You gulp and let out a shaky laugh. You pull your leg off him, muscles achy from staying still too long, and he gathers up the supplies to put them away. 

You’re not sure what comes over you, maybe it’s the darkening sky leaving the room dark or seeing the firelight glow on his skin.  “Hey Joel,” you pause enough for him to look up, eyes meeting yours “did I mention i fell and hurt my lip too?” he seems taken aback for a moment, eyes widening slightly. You're quickly hit with the realization of what you just said. “Fuck, I'm sorry Joel, I didn’t-” his warm hand on your cheek shuts you up, especially when his thumb runs over your lower lip.

He leans in, warm breath fanning over you making you shiver. “Let me patch that up for ya sweetheart.” His lips at first are cautious but he gains his confidence when you melt against him.  His lips are warm and geedy, not leaving yours even as the kiss goes deeper. With careful precision he lifts you easily from the chair, dragging you to sit on his lap on the ottoman. Even as you squeal and laugh as he maneuvers you to straddle him, his lips are intense: tongue licking at your lips and dipping into your mouth when you start to kiss him back again with the same ferocity. 

The combined heat from the fire beside you and Joel beneath you is almost too much. You part away from his lips, putting your hand on his chest briefly to stop him from chasing your lips. His pupils are blown wide when you meet his eyes, and you know your eyes are the very same. “You alright?” his question is simple but his voice has deepened, gotten more raspy from his arousal. You nod, breathing heavily and tell him you just need a moment to breathe. He nods, muttering an apology as his forehead meets your shoulder, breathing evenly to calm himself down.

One hand rubs along his back as the other plays with the long hair at the nape of his neck. You again hear him mutter a sorry and you shush him, “don’t be sorry, you didn’t push me Joel. It's just been years since my last makeout session. Has it been awhile for you too?" his breath fans out warm on your neck as he chuckles, placing a quick kiss to your neck, leaning back to stare at you.

He grins, licking his lips before he replies, “well, last person I made out with got pregnant so…”  he barks out a laugh at your wide eyed expression, and you join him. You calm down a bit and bring your forehead to his.

“Jesus Joel, you were a damn teenager then!” his hands travel from your back, down over to rub at your thighs, fingers calloused and sending delicious thrills to boil in your belly. 

“I suppose it has been a while. Care to help me make up for lost time?”  his lips are just a fraction away from yours, close enough to feel his lips twist up in a smirk. You run your nails from one hand through his bearded cheek, earning you a grunt.

“Absolutely, Miller. Let’s get started.”

[cinnamonest]

oh hell yes the goat darling eating to freedom XD and if you ever had goats they are like spiderman, climbing steep ass things or ending up high in a tree or the roof. and scientists have dna spliced some goats to produce spider silk.

oh oh if we are talking about interesting hard to keep hybrid darlings i wish to present honey badger darling who eats EVERYTHING that is edible and leave no food behind. will get into canned foods or even alcohol. will steal whatever they want right in front the person, will keep trying to fight unless knocked out cold. does not care if the person is way stronger, will still keep attacking. but hey if you got food this darling will be somewhat more tolerable?

vuv will 100 percent have cute teddy bear like ears and a derp happy expression 24/7 even when committing crimes

My neighbor's goat had to undergo emergency surgery bc she. Ate like several solid feet. Of barbed wire. It was wild. Also YES they will straight up climb trees.

Badgergirl darling... the absolute menace and force of chaos that is american-badgergirl versus the delightful and sweet european badgergirl

[aprofessionalwithoutstandards]

Fun fact its hard-wired into every new zealanders brain to do crazy shit like eat grubs and worms and climb trees. Or maybe I was just a really weird kid. Either way sniper would absolutely run around like a dog in fact I did that too I think I would win the crawling olympics

I think as an adult Sniper tf2 subsists entirely on weird bugs and apple peels and I see no reason why he would be any different as a kid. Guys who ate dirt. Guys who drank creek water. Christ is this the transmasc bug music shit nvm post cancelled

[narrans]

A Tall and Small Collection | Soren | Winter

His breath hitched in his throat. The frigid air filled his lungs, constricting them with each gasping breath. He could hear his younger brothers calling out for him. Each beat of his heart seemed to slow, begging him to calm his nerves. The crashing vibrations behind him were growing louder and louder. He had to speed up. He willed his legs to move faster as he darted to the side. The harsh sound of heavy breathing was close enough for him to smell. Just ahead was a hiding place. The roots of a freezing tree offered just enough protection; but could he make it? There was no other option. He pulled out his pin and dove, tumbling through the roots and spun on his heel to jab out. His heart leapt into his throat. A hollow, emptiness swelled in his gut as he came face to face with the gaping maw of a dog. He gripped his pin tight and thrust forward.

Soren woke with a start and sat bolt upright, a cold sweat on his brow. His breath was shallow and rapid. Every nerve in his body sending chills and nervous sparks through his body. As his heart began to calm and stop hammering against his chest, he laid back down and tried to breathe deeply against the constricting feeling in his chest.

It was a dream. It was only a dream – this time at least. Soren’s dream pulled from events just four days ago. Soren could’ve sworn he could still smell the dog’s breath. He glanced at either side, remembering his two younger brothers sound asleep and pressed against him. He hadn’t disturbed them. Their makeshift bed on the dirt and under those few scraps of clothing they managed to bring with them was neither comfortable nor warm. It allowed them to survive, which was enough for now.

Northern winters were harsh and frigid, especially by the northern lakes. This was not a contested point, it was fact. The wind would easily reach below zero. The snow could bury a yard in hours and make any terrain dangerous to traverse. Water would freeze over and become nearly impossible to drink or drill to boil. Wildlife, scarce in certain months, was nearly impossible to hunt and often the stores closed. If someone had a house with heating and water and light and the means to sustain such a life, it wasn’t so bad. No person in their right mind would live outside willingly in such harsh conditions; but, sometimes, it was unavoidable – especially if that person was a borrower.

In a small subdivision filled with a labyrinth of apartments and college town students, a family of four borrowers lay shivering in the cold. It was only late fall, but there was still a dusting of snow on the ground. They were forced to migrate after Brady, their father, thought he was seen. He most likely was seen; at least, that is what Soren guessed.

Neck stiff, Soren tried stretching without disturbing his siblings. A quick glance around told him it was just after dawn and he couldn’t see Brady anywhere nearby. He felt a frozen growl rise in his throat. If he was being honest with himself, Soren resented Brady in a way. Brady was clumsy and careless; it was a miracle he hadn’t been killed or worse, caught. If it weren’t for Soren’s mother, they probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

Soren shook his head free of his thoughts. He couldn’t think about that now. He had to focus on the move ahead of them. The house they intended to stay in for now was largely unexplored and they were in desperate need of supplies. His brothers were too young, being only seven and eight years old, and Brady was incompetent. Soren would need to handle supply gathering. With a gentle nudge, he began to wake his brothers.

“Soren?” groaned the youngest, Rey, teeth chattering slightly.

“I know, it’s early; but it’s time to wake up,” said Soren. Dorian stirred, pressing himself into the warmth of his eldest brother. Soren maneuvered slightly so he could better peer out of their rooted hiding place when they heard something. It was a soft scraping, and it was getting louder. Soren leaned forward, much to his brothers’ dismay, and pulled his pin from his pack and held it at the ready. The hair on his arms raised. His breath stilled as his heart began to pump harder in his chest.

It was Brady. Even with mixed feelings about him, Soren had to admit he was glad of his return. He said nothing and instead dropped his borrowing bag at the edge of the hole they came through.

“Anything?” asked Soren. Brady shook his head.

“Nothing. Everything is sealed up tight. There’s a whole maze of walls in this place,” muttered Brady, sinking against the wall and pressing his head to the concrete. Rey and Dorian stirred at the sound of their father’s voice and sat up shivering. [Of course.] Thought Soren bitterly. The knot in his gut wouldn’t be satisfied with snow again. Even though his body shuddered uncontrollably for a moment, he managed to push himself onto his feet. His brothers moaned in protest as their primary source of warmth.

“I’m going to see what I can find,” muttered Soren after retrieving the borrowing bag from the ground.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You should save your strength. We should just move onto the next home,” said Brady.

“It’s almost winter Brady. We’ve got to settle long-term here, at least for now. Regardless, we need some supplies. Don’t go anywhere until I get back,” said Soren stiffly before slinging the pack across his body and ducking in-between the walls.

The walls were only slightly warmer than their place by the crawl space. There was a place he could climb from the crawl space to the hall. Step by step, he carefully traversed the wall’s edge until he reached the first floor. From where he stood, he could stare up at the towering expanse above him. Just the sight of something so tall gave him a sense of vertigo. He couldn’t even see the roof of the hall without some sort of light source – and he only had a few matches which he left behind. The bricks and drywall surrounding him did offer some limited light where the electrical outlets connected their world to the world of the humans.

Soren shuddered at the thought of being seen by a human. His mother and father had told him stories of what happened to other borrowers who had encountered humans. The horror stories passed through generations was now uncommon. Whether some of the stories were true was always in debate. Still, it didn’t stop Soren from always been careful and he wasn’t about to stop now.

Just ahead was an outlet into the first floor. Soren took a calming breath before approaching the holes and the wires. Each wire in of itself was nearly as thick as his arm, making the hair on the back of his neck raise. Carefully, he pulled on the screw and unwound it just enough for him to peer inside.

The warmth from the room poured in through the miniscule crack Soren was able to create. He listened in. Nothing. He breathed deeply. There was a thick smell of mothballs and something else. A smell of a thick, scented powder wafted through the air. It was an unmistakable scent of litter. [Cats.] Soren pulled the plate back over and tightened the screw. [I have to remember not to go here.]

Soren jogged to the next few rooms which he soon realized belonged to the same human because of the smell. [We can stay in between these walls here and be unbothered as long as we don’t go into the rooms. It’s much warmer at the very least, even if it does stink.] Soren felt his way along the walls and jogged through the darkness until he reached another break in the walls. [These must divide the larger rooms] thought Soren.

The next five rooms Soren checked turned up unusable since they were completely empty. Soren had dared to go outside of the walls and walk around the chilled rooms. The vast expanse of room seemed endless and empty. It was unnerving and forced Soren to duck back into the confines of the walls. [How can humans live in such a huge space? I know they’re huge, but still…]

There were only a few abandoned spider webs and no signs of mice. Finally, after a long trek through the walls, Soren managed to find what he was looking for – a warm apartment kitchen left unattended. The outlet on the floor came out right beside the kitchen table. The chairs were covered with skirts that hid the legs, which made the perfect hiding place. The kitchen itself was only twenty-seven paces away. The counter, on the other hand, was another issue altogether.

The surface was slick and covered with something called linoleum. Gaining purchase with his hook was going to be nearly impossible without leaving a mark. Soren glanced from side to side. A move this bold wasn’t something he usually partook in, but he was running out of options if he wanted to make sure his family ate today.

Soren stepped out from behind the wall and walked the twenty-seven paces to the edge of the wall next to the kitchen. Empty and no active signs of humans at the moment. The kitchen was small, but there were still two separate counters. One side had the sink while the other had the stove. Based on his experience, bread didn’t do well next to water.

Taking a shaking breath to swell his confidence, Soren darted from his place by the wall toward the stove while swinging his hook as hard as he could toward to top of the oven. Missed. He cursed under his breath and tried again, this time finding his hook catch something metal. [I must’ve snagged the grate of the stove.]

Soren wasted no time and began climbing, his heart pounding as he rose further and further from the ground. Out of breath, he reached the top. He looked around. The place seemed clean and well put together. Soren shook his thoughts away. He couldn’t think about this now. He turned his attention back to the counter in search of something he could grab and shove into his bag quickly. [There!] There was a bread box shoved in the corner by the wall and the counter. More importantly, there was an electrical outlet mere inches away from the box. He’d hit the jackpot.

Soren wrapped up his hook and made quick work of getting into the box, pulling off enough breadcrumbs to be unnoticed. He wanted to take the entire end, but it would have been too much and was bound to be noticed. He had hopes that what he took wouldn’t be noticed as it was, pinching off more than what he usually would.

Soren had just stepped back onto the counter when he heard a loud grinding sound coming from the next room just behind the door. His heart stopped. Every nerve in his body screamed to run. He couldn’t hesitate now, but he had a choice. He could try and shimmy down his line back to the cover he knew would lead him back or he could pull free the electrical cover mere inches from himself. He made his choice.

Climbing now would be too risky and at least he could duck behind the top of the bread box which was just barely taller than the backsplash. Hands trembling, he began frantically unscrewing the cover. It was already loose. There was the sound of a high pitched, shrill sound followed by silence. Soren could guess it was a car coming to a stop. His hands fumbled as he managed to pry the screw loose and began to peel back the faceplate. Nearby, he could hear muffled shouting.

Humans. They were angry by the sound of it. Soren pulled with all his might, accidentally stumbling backwards when the plate came off suddenly. He could see the lock turning. It was now or never. He leapt to his feet, screw in hand, and bolted behind the faceplate cover. He straddled the electrical cords and managed to pull the face plate back into place just as the door opened.

Heart pounding through his ribs, Soren listened as the two humans, who were still shouting at one another, came into the apartment. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but at least he was out of harm’s way – for now at least. There was a small shelf just below his feet which he didn’t see before. Soren imbedded his spare hook into the wood and rappelled down the line and began jogging back to where he had left his brothers and Brady.

It was a close call, but not an unsuccessful venture. His family would eat tonight, and that’s what mattered. As his legs carried him, Soren couldn’t help but think about why the humans were shouting at one another. How could they be angry when they had so much? They had food and shelter, warmth when they wanted. Soren rounded the final corner and dropped down from the ledge into the crawl space. He could feel the temperature difference instantly.

Yes, they would move as Brady requested; but, Brady wasn’t going to be the only one calling the shots anymore.

Continue

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 3)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 3,036

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage

Month: February

Year: 2021

It had been three years since you saw your parents being murdered in your living room and since the civil war started.

Society had fallen.

First, it was the fight for the cure, then it was the fight for protection. Next, came the riots, the fight for food, and eventually, it all became a survival of the fittest.

Electricity and communication were no more. You don’t even remember the last time you saw a working TV. Family was no more. Violence and dishonesty were now the brutal answer.

These days, protection came in the form of clothing you owned and how much you had of it. After it became apparent that this virus was actually a bacteria born and flesh-eating disease, everyone did what they could to try and keep their skin protected as much as possible. It ate through the skin and took over your body like a plague. Heavy clothing equaled less chance of being infected. It didn’t take very long for clothing stores to be looted along with the grocery and drug stores.

Eventually, you’d have to make use of any clothing you found on dead bodies that were killed by assassination and not by the virus itself. You couldn’t risk that.

But even that was rare to come by. Everyone jumped at the opportunity of a clothed dead corpse. Whether it was for the scarf, the pants, shoes, or socks.

During the riots, most of the homes had all been destroyed either by fire or vandalism. Some tainted by dead bodies; murder scenes. Some eaten by the virus. You didn’t want to live in a home that was infected. Destroyed homes were ruined by the winter’s harsh snowstorms and the summer’s heavy rainfall. Because of their collapsed ceilings mixed in with the weather, it all eventually began to mold and collapse.

Life was no more, happiness and serenity were gone, except for in The Capitol.

No one could get inside The Wall. You heard rumors that it was guarded by heavy military and machine guns, and all of Hydra.

The Capitol was a place where your parents had planned for every single one of you to make use of to help you survive and live a happy life. It was supposed to be a safe haven, not this.

It was now the place that had been savagely stolen by Hydra and the evil rich. The migration into The Capitol had happened very soon after your parent’s death. The rich, elite, privileged, and only some certain politicians, were taken in.

The other politicians, you heard in rumors, had either killed themselves or were killed by other government officials, just like your parents had been. You heard rumors that this had been an undercover mission for years. They all knew how to take over the moment it was necessary.

Even the doctors and scientists had been taken with them. And you wondered if it was at their own will. Meanwhile, everyone else - people like you and Will and simple middle-class families with children - were forced to fight each other to stay alive.

A bloodbath.

The first few months you and Will had refused to fight anyone for food. That wasn’t in your moral plans. But it had eventually come a day when neither of you had eaten in three days, and the only thing left, in a dirty store off Route 95, was a loaf of bread. You, Will, and this random girl all argued until you eventually agreed on splitting it into three pieces.

The girl had been chewing her piece, devouring like she hadn’t eaten in days when her eyes landed on the tattoo on your neck, and immediately you knew she knew who you were. Her eyes grew dark and she jumped at the chance to attack you when Will came from behind, hitting her on the back of the head with a heavy bucket, making her pass out.

You knew that no one really knew what happened to your family. They all think it was your parent’s intentions for all of these horrible things to have happened. They blame you and your family for this. This only made you want to avenge your parents even more and even Will knew. This life wasn’t what they wanted, and it’s not what you wanted either.

You had been sitting one night, in the middle of a forest in Connecticut around a blazing fire, eating a fish you had just caught with your handmade spear. It had fed you both for many months. Will smiled over the fire at you, licking the meat off the bone clean.

“We’ll get there, Y/N.”

You stared at the fire in a daze. You hadn’t lost hope. Or at least you don’t think you did. Your feet had been bare for weeks and they were starting to chafe and bleed.

You wouldn’t admit it, but part of you did lose a little hope. You feared the first snowfall of the year. It was almost comical to you how your last worry at the moment was frostbite.

You took a deep breath, enjoying the taste of the Tilapia. You wrapped your heavy scarf over your shoulders.

“I know, I’m just tired. I wish I had more strength, I wish we had more strength. There’s two of us and thousands of them, Will.”

It was the first sign of doubt you had shown in months, and it surprised Will slightly.

“I know, but we can do it. I know we can.” he licked his fingers clean and then laid down on the wet and cold grass, his hands behind his head.

Could you do it? You weren’t sure anymore. You knew you wanted to kill Hydra and you wanted to overtake The Capitol. But were you two really capable of doing that? Have you two been delusional this entire time?

“Its been three years. Three years.” You said softly. Exhausted.

“True, but we’re young. And we’re smart. We have an advantage they don’t. That.” He bent one of his legs and stared up at the scars, a small smile tainting his lips, “We could always call The Avengers.”

You scoffed, running your hands through your hair as you threw the bare spine into the fire. You were a bit sad you finished it, your tummy still turning in hunger.

“What Avengers? Hydra destroyed their home, everything. They tried to fight and they lost. Worst than when Thanos beat them. And to make matters worse, this is a virus, it’s not something they can necessarily control. They’ve become overpowered, even the damn Avengers are overpowered now by Hydra. This is like a horror movie that will never end. It’s time we face the facts.”

Will smirked.

“I don’t know if I buy it. You mean to tell me even Bruce fucking Banner couldn’t break that damn wall?”

You gave him a glare.

“I don’t think the goal here is to break The Wall. If anything that would ruin the purpose, don’t you think?” you picked up a small and harmless rock and threw it at his chest, making him cringe, “dipshit.”

Will continued to stare up at the stars.  The night was midnight black, and now since there was no longer any electricity, you could even see the milky-way.

“I don’t see this ending badly.”

You wish you had his good heart and good soul. You furrow your brows at him.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“This whole thing. We’ll fix it, I know we will. I don’t know how, but it will happen. I’m sure of it.”

You consider his words and nod. You slowly take your time to get up and walk over to where he is. You pull your heavy apocalyptic-style hood over your head and scooch over closer to him. You cross your own arms behind your head, also looking up at the stars. They looked beautiful, and for the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to feel even a little bit serene.  This is why you enjoyed Will. He was your best friend and your guardian angel.

“You really think so?” You ask.

Will turned his head over and looked at you. You did the same thing, staring back into his eyes.

You were suddenly afraid; afraid of losing your friend. What would you do without a good soul like him to keep you sane and strong?

“I do.” There was no trace of doubt in his voice.

Still, you tried to believe him, you really did.

You and Will began to fend for survival. You often thought of killing your parent’s murderer when you would both be laying under a tree in the cold of the night trying to fall asleep. You would never forget that face.  You and Will would both alternate between being watchmen to guard your food and weapons. You mostly used the weapons just for hunting, but you never knew what could happen. Still, you remained alert and vigilant.

You both never ventured too much into the city, trying to stay on the outskirts as much as you possibly could. But one day you had cut your hand while trying to spear more seafood in a riverbed, and the cut ended up being deeper than you could manage. Not only did you fear it to get in the way of your hunting, but you also didn’t want your blood seeping in through your clothing, making it more versatile to the virus.

You both found a looted, but in not-too-bad-of-a-condition, dollar store just off the freeway. You both climbed over some of the abandoned cars, making sure to look in each one just in case there was something worth taking.

You got to the entrance of the store, and Will told you he would be outside waiting and keeping guard while you looked for some bandages.

The store was almost completely empty, yet you found your way into the med isle, stepping over fallen light fixtures and useless items like beanie babies and dusted up Happy Birthday cards. You were rummaging through some boxes when you heard it.

A scream.

Will.

Your heart jumped into your throat and you acted on autopilot. You didn’t second guess, you ran through the doors and over the fallen cable wires without hesitation. Your eyes searched the eery and abandoned parking lot. You didn’t see him and you screamed Will’s name over and over again, running around the deserted parking lot. You knew it was dangerous, but you had to find him. You heard a groan and you quickly saw him lying against the curb off to the side of the highway, his arm wrapped tightly around his waist.

You feared the worst.

“No, no,” you repeated to yourself. You tried to be careful to not slip on the black ice beneath your leather boots.

You ran towards his fallen body and the first thing you say was how pale he was. His face was emotionless. Most likely shock. You crouched down next to him and you pulled his arm away from his chest. You saw a knife sticking out from his upper abdomen and blood.

A lot of blood.

He was panting and it didn’t take you long to look up across the street. There was a man faced down into the pavement. You swallowed thickly, knowing there was a fight and Will had gotten hurt.

“He saw you and he kept saying he wanted your coat, he was a loon and he had a machete, and he — and he—” Will panted.

“Shhh, shhh.” You hugged him tightly to your body as you rocked him back and forth.

“I wanted to protect you.” “I know, Will. I know.” You cried, closing your eyes tightly together and holding him closer.

He barely coughed out, his eyes rolling back.

“It hurts.” He cried.

You saw heavy tears cloud your vision and you felt a sense of impending doom.

“I got you, Will, I got you.” You don’t know if you were speaking to him or yourself.

He stretched his arm up and grabbed yours, pulling your embrace tighter around his body.

“We’ll get them, Y/N. We’ll avenge your parents, I promise. I’m too strong for this.” He squeaked, “I won’t die.” He said through clenched teeth.

Tears ran down your face as you watched him grab his own open abdomen.

“You are, Will. You are so strong.” Your face tilted to the side as more sobs racked through your body, “Please, don’t leave me. I can’t be alone. I can’t do this alone.”

You felt his nimble fingers dig into your elbow, smearing you with his blood.

“I’m so sorry.” He whimpered, some blood escaping his lips this time.

“Please, please.” You cried over and over again, holding him tighter to your chest.

It didn’t take much longer for you to feel him go limp in your arms. Your body shook with your cries when you repeated it back to yourself: Will was dead.

You didn’t allow yourself to cry for too long. You wanted to but you knew you needed to keep moving, and being this exposed could only cost you your life.

You quickly found a nice area, the nicest you could possibly find in an arena of death, and you carefully laid Will’s body down. Ironically, it was in a field of dead daisies. You delicately draped his arms over his chest and you whispered your goodbyes to him. You took a moment to cherish who he was. He was a lonely son of a construction worker and an accountant. His bother died two years ago after being infected. He had been in pain for a long time, but he had a good heart, and he strived to stay at your side to help you. You let your tears fall on your hands as you held his for just a few more minutes.

No more than a half-hour later after finding some bandages, you were back in the woods, continuing your journey south. You pulled out the compass that Will had given you, just to be sure. It was close to dusk when you heard the sound of a river running down below. Your stomach grumbled, suddenly feeling very hungry again. You had been out of luck today, finding not even one squirrel or deer. Not even a bird.

You hadn’t eaten since that morning when you and Will had split a couple of spare pumpkin seeds. Your chest tightened at the thought of him again. You felt awful for just leaving him in the field like that. You knew someone would find him soon and take the clothing off his body to keep for their own. But you had no choice. And there was no time for a proper burial, at least not in the middle of a city like that.

You continued your walk more and more, the boots that you had stolen off a girl’s body, squishing in the mood and dirt beneath your feet. You were thankful it hadn’t snowed yet this year. The cold was already unbearable as it was, if there was snow it would only make your journey worst. You couldn’t take it for granted.

You don’t know how much farther you walked since you had no watch. No one had watches anymore. Time didn’t exist anymore. But, it would help in order for you to estimate your location and how far you had left in your journey. You were guessing, realistically, it had been about an hour, judging by how much darker the sky now was.

You knew you needed to find a corner to settle in and build a fire. You needed a place to sleep for the night. Food would have to wait until tomorrow, you would go to sleep hungry again.

You take a deep breath and rest your hand on a large tree. You were extremely fatigued, in desperate need of water. You had been dehydrated for a while. You knew your canteen was running low so you had to savor as much as you could.

You took necessary sips here and there.

You drift your eyes over the horizon and through the broken branches until your gaze lands of a patch of grass that looked decent enough for a rest stop. You would lay your dirty rag you call a blanket there and get some rest.

You slowly started your walk, tucking your canteen back into your bag.

You heard owls in the sky around you and you grew worried as you began to realize that with Will now gone you were truly alone. There was no way you could avenge your parents alone. You couldn’t go into The Capitol alone.

You had no chance.

Your hands grew clammy and you started feeling worried sick, your mind now in overdrive.

You were screwed. You were all alone and screwed and there was no chance in hell you were going to come out of this alive. Suddenly, you find yourself angry at Will. Angry for lying to you and saying that everything would be okay.

How could he say that? How could he lie to make you believe it was true? You wouldn’t be capable of doing this alone? Even the Avengers couldn’t do this, even the Earth’s mightiest heroes could not win against Hydra, yet here you were trying to overthrow an entire city filled with them?

You remember the people talking about how their compound had been bombed and destroyed. They didn’t have a home anymore. They had three missions where they tried to overthrow it and failed miserably. It pained you to see that your parents hope for the future had become a living hell of blood and war. How could Will have so much faith in you? You remember the feel of his limp body in your arms and your sadness is unbearable.

More tears found your eyes and you rubbed your wet nose over the back of your sleeve. Something heavy caught the tip of your boot, and with a shriek you found yourself tumbling down and down.

Then, everything went dark.

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (there’s nothing wrong with Ohio)

Summary: Reader joins Douxie in the quest for Nari’s safety. He’ll need company won’t he? - (Part 5) ohio hijinks. national forests, a b ‘n b.   next- (part 6)  start here -> (part 1)

Warnings: swearing, meat eating, idk gambling kinda?

Word Count: 6620

A/N: AAAAAHHH i gotta stop writing shit at 3am. it’s showing. also i cant believe i reworked their entire planned trip route for this. ajhqhdsjhfljh i have no excuses for any of this

Douxie was uncharacteristically quiet during the trip through the first bit of Indiana. Y/n hung over the railing feeling awkward. The treetops below flew past her in a blur. Y/n kinda felt bad, like maybe she had broken him. Did she nudge a little too hard? She had thought, if anything, her flirting would get him flirting too. Hell, Doux flirted with everyone. It was just part of his charismatic persona he’d built over the years. And he had been so strange this week, but especially strange during the time they’d spent on the road. Every time Y/n had thought she’d figured something out with him, he’d surprise her.

Douxie was still processing what had happened earlier that day. He may have been going mad finally, immortals do tend to do that, but he was starting to think Y/n had feelings for him too. Which was something he had to be imagining, and yet she kept making it really hard to dismiss. Maybe it was just that their trip to St. Louis had felt pretty damn close to a date. His gaze lingered over her form, looking out at the scenery, covered in his jacket, a little piece of him to always cling to her skin, mingling their scents. His eyes snapped back to the sky in front of him as he narrowly dodged a telephone wire tower.

They had decided on taking one last pit stop before settling for the night. They were making their way up to Cleveland, which was a little unnecessarily high north into Ohio, but since Y/n was the one holding the map so to speak, she got to shift their course, almost to her whim even. Douxie was happy with anything as long as they kept moving. There was something she wanted to see in Cleveland. It’s not like Douxie wouldn’t enjoy it too, though. In fact, if her memory served her correctly, Douxie might enjoy the trip more than her. Back to that last pit stop. Hoosier National Forest. Somewhere nice and nature-y for Nari, and as a bonus, nice and forested for magic boat hiding. It would be a good opportunity to stretch out their legs.

Speaking of stretching, Y/n stretched out her arms to the expanse below, her fingers spread with the wind whistling between them, and she let out a soft groan. She was just trying to make her shoulders less stiff, she had been holding onto that railing tightly for quite a while now, but Douxie did not like that action one bit. He locked his staff in place at the helm, giving him just enough time to loop his arm around her midsection and pull her back into the center of the ship. He was able to return quick enough to stop them from hitting the top of a particularly tall evergreen. Y/n was still confused as to what just happened.

“Why don’t you take a seat now, Love.”

She did as she was told, less confused now, yet disgruntled at the fact the Doux had just scooped her away like she was a tiny kitten he was keeping from jumping off the couch.

Hoosier National Forest was magnificent. Well, Y/n thought all forests were wonders, but this one was still great, promise. There were tall trees and big rocks and waterfalls. What more does a national forest need. She managed to convince Douxie that they should go for a hike. Just a little trail, only half an hour, scouts honour. They had flown most of the way, and a brisk walk was what they all needed. It would be good for Nari, after all. Archie took a hard pass, in favor of yet another nap in the sun.

There was a waterfall nearby. A small one, but a waterfall nonetheless. Y/n had pulled up the map of the forest on her phone. Thank the stars for living in a cyberpunk dystopia. She led the way on the trail, until Nari told her that she could feel the waterfall and they could get there faster if they stepped off the path and made their own way. A bad idea, really, don’t do this. Y/n was all for it, to Douxie’s dismay. He had hoped she’d be more sensible, but no, now they were climbing down a steep rocky hill with a literal spirit guide. Nari led them through more twists and bigger rocks to climb over. Douxie tried his best to keep up with Y/n, to keep a hand on her, but she and Nari were moving too fast. At least he could still see them. If Y/n ate the dirt he’d just have to patch her up, he supposed.

Once they made it to the waterfall site, coming out of some brush, they took a moment to rest. Apparently, they were supposed to relax and enjoy feeling the waterfall’s aura or something but Douxie was too preoccupied on assessing the damage from the trek. After he voiced his concern, Y/n boasted that she made it here with only a few scratches and only one cut. Completely normal Dewdrop. Douxie was going to make her take the actual path back. He was probably ruining the waterfall’s calming energy.

After patching up Y/n with bandages and alcohol from the pack on his back, Douxie took a moment to actually take in the water feature. It had carved itself through the rocks it came forth from. It wasn’t powerful when it began, but capable of cutting through solid sediment now. Thousands of years, spent in the same rock formation, and yet none of the water flowing was water that had been there before. Constantly moving, and going nowhere. Neatly polished stones as it’s only reward. Doux was starting to get uncomfortable thinking about this insentient piece of nature now.

They weren’t planning on stopping again until the next national forest, Wayne, so they picked up a bite to eat from a camp store on their way out. Not exactly a restaurant, their meal consisted mostly of beef jerky, almonds, and some dried fruit. Eh, good enough. It was easy to eat on the fly. Pun intended. And it reminded Douxie a little of the dried winter foods he used to eat back in the day. A good meal indeed.

` ` `

The sun had set hours ago. Douxie was keen on spending another night flying until morning but Y/n and Nari looked like wilted flowers. Nari a little more literally. They were slumped over on each other, barely keeping their eyes open. Y/n’s eyelids fluttered. He supposed they could spend yet another night actually getting a decent amount of sleep, in a comfortable bed, and not the deck of a magic flying boat or whatever. They were still in Wayne National Forest but he could see lights up ahead. Not many, but enough that it was probably another tiny town.

Douxie steered the boat to the outskirts of the town. Not much going on, but they were in the middle of nowhere yet again after all. He called over to Y/n, who gave a jolt at the sound of her name, waking her up enough to give him her attention. He watched as she looked around, gaining her bearings. The town itself was nothing they hadn’t come across dozens of times before. Despite the inky blackness from the thin moon, and the remoteness of location, the town had a homey vibe to it. A relief, after yesterday. This town had either already started decorating for Christmas despite it being September, or never took down their decorations from last year. The lights in the trees made up for the absence of the moon, glistening off the orange leaves. This town still had a drive-in movie theater, and it was showing Roman Holiday, for some reason. It looked like more than half the town’s population was parked in that drive-in. It was almost like this little place was stuck in time.

Y/n pointed over to a gingerbread house. The hanging sign swung in the wind, reading Avalon Bed and Breakfast, painted in fancy blue cursive letters. There was an illustration of a floating island under the script. Douxie wasn’t exactly feeling good about that name, they had had enough of spending the night in someone’s final resting place last night. Sure, it looked harmless enough, but most Venus wizardtraps did. There was a wrap-around porch, illuminated by the warm light spilling from the windows, and a woman sat in one of the rocking chairs, telling a story to a couple of children, sitting on the ground around her feet. Y/n’s pupils were really big, locked onto the scene. Avalon B ‘n B it is then. If all goes well, they leave this place in the morn with a magic buzz, not entombed. Or it could just be a regular inn with a sacred namesake. It was always hard to tell with these things.

Douxie hid the boat in the nearby forest and they set off for the B ‘n B on foot. There was a chill in the air. Y/n put her hood up to shield from the wind to their backs. She threaded the fingers of the hand not attached to Nari through his. Douxie’s hands were too sweaty for her to keep doing this to him. Hopefully she wouldn’t stop. Archie jumped up on his shoulders, ready to hide if need be by shape shifting into something much smaller and less noticeable than a cat. Y/n googled the inn as they walked. They were listed as pet friendly, however their website revealed that this policy only extended to cats. Luckily for them, Archie was cat-passing. No need to become a rat that stayed in Douxie’s cap.

As they stepped inside the large wooden door, they were bathed in an orange light. There was a deep scarlet rug under their feet. The atrium they stepped into had a bench with too many colorful cushions stacked on it, an antique mirror that was probably silver-backed behind that, and a counter blocking the way for you to step into the rest of the house, with a few keys hanging behind it. The old man behind the counter stood as they entered, grinning.

“Welcome to Avalon! Name’s Robert. Why, what a beautiful family you have here.” He leaned over the counter to speak to the veggie lady. “And what’s your name, Little Miss?”

“I am Nari of the Eternal Forest.”

Y/n laughed, in an effort to be convincing, “Oh, she’s going through a wee fairy phase, it’s our fault, we took her to a renn faire last month.”

“Oh, how adorable. Could I get a name for your reservation Ma’am?”

“Casperan.”

“Perfect. And we have both a room with a single queen, and a room with a queen and a twin. We also have a room with two twins available, but I’m sure that wouldn’t serve you folks well.”

“We’ll take the single, our little one still isn’t very brave when it comes to sleeping in new places.” It was cheaper.

“Alrighty, here you go. We ask you to pay the bill up front if that’s okay with ya’ll,” Douxie came forward to hand the man his card, which he promptly accepted with a flourish, “And don’t worry about your feline, he should be fine as long as he can get along with our resident kitty cat, Sammy.”

“No worries, it should all be fine, Archie here is very friendly,” Y/n gave Robert her biggest smile. She shot Archie a look when the man turned away. He better get along with Sammy if he knew what was good for him. Speak of the devil, a little gray cat one could only assume was Sammy came trotting over and sniffed the feet of these new people in his domain. Douxie put a none too happy Archie down to greet the new friend and told him to play nice. Sammy sniffed Archie, hesitated for a moment, but then rubbed his cheek on Arch’s shoulder. Douxie let out the breath he was holding. Archie kept his tail from flicking and chirruped to the gray cat.

After passing by an archway that led into the dining area, where several old ladies were playing bridge, Robert led them up the stairs and through an unevenly rugged hallway to their room, near the end. “Now take your time settling in, but do join us downstairs soon, you’ll miss all the fun.”

After promising to show back up in a jiffy, they took in the room after he left. There bed was covered in four different green quilts, or that were as many as were visible. The windows were covered in thick green drapes. They came in and laid down their packs. The wallpaper was covered in green vines. There was some fancy loveseat, also green. Nari loved the amount of green. There was an oil painted portrait of a cat on the wall, and below it, a large vintage radio that looked like it might as well had been new. Y/n turned it on. ‘Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered’ was playing. Ooh, she loved this song.

She grabbed Douxie’s hands and pulled him to the center of the room. “C’mon, dance with me Dewdrop.” With a hand extended for him to take, her eyes sparkled as she looked up at him. Well, there was no way Douxie was saying no to that face. Y/n pulled him into her embrace the second he tentatively put his hand in hers. It was a sweet, slow love song, so they began to dance sweet, slow, and loving. Nari had made herself comfortable on the loveseat with Archie, who was pretending to be busy cleaning himself to give them one less pair of eyes watching them. Nari grabbed a book off the doily covered coffee table titled ‘Poisonous Herbs and How To Use Them’ that had caught her eye.

As they swayed, Douxie leant down to Y/n’s ear, “Why are we sharing a bed once again, Love?”

“You saw those people downstairs, if they knew we weren’t married they wouldn’t have given us accommodation, you want to go look for a new inn at ten o’ clock?” Douxie nodded, “and I figured we shared a bed last night and that was fine so why not tonight too? Oh stars, did I make you uncomfortable last night?” Douxie could hear the panic surging in her voice.

“No, no not at all, Love. Well, a perhaps wee bit,” Y/n pulled slightly away from him, which he quickly countered, “But in a good way. I- liked it.”

Y/n eyes got big as she scanned his nervous face. A weak smile spread across her flushed face. “I liked it too- oh,” Doux spun her around to the music. She giggled, but soon locked onto his eyes. There were so many things in them that she couldn’t name. Despite the chaos behind them, looking into them made her feel safe, his hazel eyes always did. A brilliant hazel, a little brown, a little gold, haloed in green. Warm colors, the palette of her fondest dreams. Ella Fitzgerald’s sweet voice still sung, Y/n couldn’t tell if the melody was lasting forever or if time had just slowed in each other’s embraces. His gentle touch on the small of her back, the warmth beneath his palm, was going to linger long after they parted.

She leaned closer, resting her head on his shoulder. Y/n could smell a mixture of cheap soap from the motel, the sweat of his skin, and the pine needles from their hike. His hair tickled her face. She could hear him take every breath. It was enamoring. Bewitched indeed, Ella. Y/n was so lost swaying in Douxie’s embrace that she almost didn’t catch what was being sung.

Y/n lifted her head back up. “Wow, I don’t remember the lyrics to this song being so dirty.”

Douxie laughed. “That’s because most versions are not. They cut it off before it gets too far, but this is the full version.”

“And people were listening to this in the fifties?” Y/n asked incredulously.

“Oh, Love, you’d be surprised.”

It took some convincing to get Nari to put down the book so they could go downstairs. She was engrossed in a page about bloodroot, and wasn’t happy about having to stop. Douxie wasn’t sure about how he felt about Nari getting into said literature, and was annoyed that Y/n was slightly encouraging it. Y/n knew all about this kind of stuff, sure, but he trusted Y/n not to suddenly turn on him when the whim found her. Bleeding balroths. Before now, Douxie hadn’t realized that he didn’t quite trust Nari. That was probably bad. Sure, Merlin trusted her, and that should be enough for his apprentice Hisirdoux. But Doux had trusted a lot of people over the years, even some endorsed by Merlin, before his slumber. It was a dangerous game, that trust. The scar on his hand served a permanent reminder, the thread tied onto his pinky, a promise to never forget.

Douxie felt bold, and laced his fingers through Y/n’s this time as they headed down the stairs. Archie took his perch on Douxie’s shoulders, it would give him an excuse not to have to interact with the inn cat. They were met cordially at the bottom of the stairs by the innkeeper’s wife, Sherry. She had been on her way from the kitchen to the dining with a platter of cookies. She beckoned the group to follow her, she’d lead them to where the action was at. Said action was laughing people sitting at the dining room table playing cards, with drinks ranging from a posh teacup to an Oktoberfest beer mug littering the table, children stealing sweets from the platters on the buffet cabinet in the midst of their game of hide and seek, and a new mother rocking her infant by the fire, a quilt draped over her lap.

“Hey folks, the Casperans have joined us finally.” They received a cheery greeting by all in the room.

Y/n didn’t like the idea of Nari joining the children in their hiding game, since Nari was not someone who should be left out of sight, so she suggested the veggie lady go ask the woman in the corner of the table who was knitting if she’d show Nari how. That kept the forest child busy all night. Easily explained to the adults by her being a strange little one, a shy child. Besides Robert there was only one other man in the gathering, so they seemed pleased by Douxie’s arrival. They tried to get him out of his shell and bond over beer, fishing stories, and how much they loved their wives. Douxie was trying his best to fit in with the merry men. As Y/n sat, the blue haired lady next to her offered her hand to shake and asked her name. “Y/n Casperan, pleased to meet you too, Ma’am.” Douxie bit the inside of his cheek, it was all he could do to keep his soul from leaving his body. Archie teased Doux with his eyebrows, which made it worse.

Much to Archie’s dismay, Doux got his revenge by putting him down on the ground and telling him to go play nice. Besides, it would be weird if Doux just left him there on his shoulder all night. Disgruntled, Archie took a perch up on the back of one of the old plush couches nearby. He kept an eye on Nari, since Douxie and Y/n were distracted. He had hoped he could stay anti-social from up there, but no, Sammy saw him from wherever the old cat was in the house and joined him. The gray cat snuggled next to Archie, loafing. It’s not that Arch didn’t like cuddles, he just didn’t want them from this random Russian blue from Ohio. Sammy began to purr; Archie could feel it against his own chest. Sighing, he accepted his fate, but didn’t hold back from flicking his tail in contempt.

The gathering dealt Douxie and Y/n in for the next round. Apparently, Y/n was a card shark, not something Doux was expecting. Y/n’s secret is that she’d oftentimes sneak off from her aunt’s fancy parties to go gamble with the snooty rich men who never thought a little girl in a poufy pink dress could clean ‘em out. They were often too embarrassed to tell the tale so she never got caught. He watched her lovingly as she bluffed and bantered with the other women. Y/n glanced over to him from across the table, catching his gaze. Her own gaze softened at the sight of his adoring expression towards her. She looked back down at her cards and promptly ended the hand. The dealer started passing around cards again, but Y/n refused hers.

“Oh, I sure would love to play another round, but I need to go have a conversation with my husband outside for a moment.” She shot a glance to Douxie and he understood. He stood up from the table and pulled her chair out for her as he did.

“Of course, Love.”

Douxie followed Y/n out to the porch. The soft orange light streaming from the window illuminated her back as she grabbed his hand to lead him towards a more private spot. Now no longer within the sight of the party, she leaned back against the porch rail, facing Doux. The expression he bore was a slightly questioning one, slightly eager. Y/n gulped, here goes nothing.

“So!”

Douxie cocked a brow, “So?”

“I know. And You know. And you didn’t know that I knew but I know, and I don’t know if you know but I’ve made it pretty clear so I’m hoping that you do know.”

Douxie’s eyes flittered back and forth as he tried to make sense of that babble. “Er- Love, could you say that in proper English for me? I think I know what you’re saying, but I- I need you to say it,” He looked away, pushing his hair back with his hands.

“I- Love You,” She lost her courage for a moment, taking a deep breath and not daring to look into his eyes, “This is so irresponsible, I know. But I, Y/n L/n, love you, Hisirdoux Casperan. And- and I have for quite some time now.” She waited a beat with no response. She still refused to look up from the floor as she asked, pleading, “Do you, return my feelings, or- or-“

“Yes.” He cut her off. She hadn’t noticed him getting so close to her. “I, Hisirdoux Casperan, love you, Y/n L/n.” Her heart skipped a beat as he chuckled, “I have for quite some time now.”

Y/n let out the breath she was holding in a dreamy sigh, “Okay.”

“Okay.” Doux brought his hand up to move a stray strand of hair away from her face, and he let it linger against her skin. Y/n placed her hand over his, and drew him closer. Her eyelids slowly closed as she reached her hands up to his hair, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. Douxie couldn’t believe this was finally happening. His eyelids snapped shut and he deepened it with fervor in an effort to show her just how much he wanted this, in case she had any hesitation left. He surely was going to wake up any moment now, alone on the smelly old couch of the bookstore with his songbook on his face. She pulled away from him way sooner than he was happy about. With their foreheads still together, he took in her flushed face. Looking up into his eyes, her voice rasped, “I- I’d- I’d like to apologize.” Douxie’s brows furrowed. His head was a little fuzzy, but he’d not know where she was going with this even if he hadn’t just kissed the love of his life. “I- I’ve been so weary, and for nothing. And-and I’ve probably wasted all this time we could have been happy an-”

He cut her off with another kiss. This time he’d make sure it lasted a good, long time. Although a bit sloppy at first, they eventually found their rhythm together. Their lips slid across each other in sync. Y/n tightened her arms around his neck as she pulled him even closer, clinging for dear life. As they eventually surfaced for breath, the hot ragged breathing visibly mingled in the chilly autumn air. He pressed his forehead back into hers, nuzzling, “I believe it was worth the wait, Darling.”

They could have spent all the time in the world in that moment, if not for the sudden crash coming from the dining area. “Oh fuzzbuckets, Nari.” Doux mumbled under his breath as he grabbed Y/n’s hand to go check out the startling noise. Once back in view of the window, they could see it was a false alarm, as Sherry had dropped a metal platter and was cleaning it up. Nari was still attentively watching the knitting woman, and Archie seemed to be getting cozy with the inn cat. Ooh Archie, you Casanova. Douxie breathed a sigh of relief. Y/n tugged at his hand,

“C’mon Dewdrop, let’s rejoin the merry making.” Douxie obliged.

And the merry making lasted until just before midnight. Surprising, considering the company they were in. They didn’t even stay until the others retired for the night, Douxie wanted to get an early start on the day and also really didn’t want to have to hear another one of Bill’s fishing stories and act like he knew anything about fishing. He complained as soon as the door closed behind them. Archie argued that he had had it worse, which Doux scoffed at. They bickered back and forth, making Y/n smile. She never knew family arguments could actually make her heart fonder. Strange. So this is what genuine love brings.

After brushing their teeth, such a mundane thing that Douxie loved doing with Y/n, they settled in to bed for the night. The autumn chill might have come, but it still way too warm for the fifteen blankets the bed had been covered in. They removed the extra and set them neatly on a pile in the loveseat. Or Y/n at least made sure the extra quilts were neatly folded, Douxie had just thrown them off and let them bunch up. Nari got under the covers, like she’d seen humans often do before, but decided it was not a sensation for her. It felt strangling, to have something weighing down at her. She joined Archie where he lay at the foot of the bed and curled up. Archie was not in the mood for more cuddles, and Nari appeared to sense that, and stayed a little ways from the dragon-cat while still trying her best to be close to him.

Y/n nestled in, with the blanket pulled up on her ear, looking cozy as ever. Douxie’s heart skipped a beat. This was still so surreal. This entire day had been surreal. There was no way this wasn’t all one big dream. Maybe he did get eaten at the Missouri motel. Perhaps something was draining his life force but giving him a pleasant dream to pacify his dwindling mind. Y/n noticed him, still standing there at the side of the bed in a trance, and reached for his hand to drag him in. He fell flush against the mattress, and as he picked himself back up, she could see his cheeks were flushed as well. Y/n giggled at the sight of him.

“Get in, just mind Arch and Nari.”

Douxie carefully got under the covers without disturbing the two at the foot of the bed, laying on his side to face Y/n. For a beat they stilled, looking into each other’s eyes and watching each other breathe, miles apart despite being so close, until Y/n stretched an arm out to place it on his shoulder, an invitation. Doux got the memo and closed the gap of sheets between them, and Y/n snuggled into his chest. He tentatively wrapped his arms around her. This was sleep time and he was supposed to be settling down and relaxing but now his heart was beating fast as if he were running. Surely Y/n could feel it, hear it even, with her ears against his heart itself. He hair smelled lovely, like dirt but right as it first starts raining. Gently smiling to himself, he tightened their embrace.

“You know, I wanted to do this last night too. So, so badly.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Bold words of someone who literally just apologized for wasting our time with her weariness.”

y/n pretended to scoff, but failed to contain her snickers, “Oh, sod off. I am asleep now, and I cannot hear you.”

Douxie woke up to a face full of dark fur. Not an unusual thing for him to wake up to, just not what he was expecting for this particular morning. At some point in the night Archie had climbed up and nestled into the space between his face and Y/n’s. Impertinent, but endearing. Douxie supposed he’d be waking up like this for many mornings to come. This magic moment would become normal, a fact of his life that he got to enjoy. Just him, Arch, and Y/n. His tiny little family. What a lovely thought. What a lovely future.

Breakfast was at seven. That was the best part of staying in a bed and breakfast, Douxie reckoned. The fragrance of the goetta frying was heavenly after not having eaten anything but beef jerky and nuts since yesterday afternoon. The innkeeper’s wife had also made biscuits that she was serving with apple butter and her signature chocolate gravy, which neither Douxie nor Y/n were brave enough to try. The apple butter was just fine, after all. Nari didn’t care for the goetta, or many meats at all, Douxie was starting to realize, instead opting to glop way too much apple butter on a biscuit that she made into a sandwich. The fruit sauce dripped out when she bit into it, which only made the other guests dote on her, telling her how she was just so cute.

Y/n was wearing that new outfit, that Ash Dispersal Pattern shirt. It looked good on her. He hoped he wasn’t being possessive here, but it really made him feel good to see her in it. They would wash their other clothes in New Jersey. Hopefully they’d make it to the garden state and the troll settlement by nightfall, but by the way things were going, Douxie could only do that, hope. They’d make their way through Pennsylvania and maybe tuck through Maryland and Delaware to avoid Philly. The new Trollmarket was under a bridge of a small town in the thick of New Jersey. They’d make it there, that was the plan.

They bid their goodbyes to the people at the bed and breakfast, and headed off to Cleveland around eight. It was an uneventful trip, unremarkable and not even worthy of being described. Although one aspect of it that Douxie enjoyed was that Y/n stayed away from the edge, choosing to hang on his arm instead of the railing. A win-win if he had ever known one. Archie made some sarcastic gagging noises at their pda, but Doux ignored him. He had been waiting way too damn long for this to not embrace his beloved on his own fucking flying ship. Arch could tease him all he wanted. This casual affection he was now allowed to show somehow was worth it. The fact that he could now just touch Y/n? And she would not only not flinch from his touch, but would even touch back? It was priceless to his heart, marrow to his old bones, chicken soup for his soul.

As they drew nearer, Douxie found out that the reason Y/n had directed them to the metropolitan area around Cleveland, pretty high up into Ohio, was that she had wanted to make a visit to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Douxie knew he shouldn’t have expected anything less. He sure knew how to pick ‘em. He could get on board with this, a little trip down memory lane might be nice. There was a reason he’d never been. A lot of his old friends who’ve earned their places in this building had passed on. Yet, it might be nice to see their faces once again.

They once again hid the boat in a wooded area and took a bus into town. It wasn’t a problem finding a close stop, since their destination was a popular tourist destination. They wandered the halls, Douxie told Y/n and Nari about some of the people from bands that he had known. Y/n listened intently. Nari really liked all the pictures and memorabilia. She understood that this was some sort of memorial, and she was making sure that she was being respectful as Hisirdoux told her about it all. She didn’t quite understand why there were tributes to some still living humans, but did not question the humans’ rituals. Perhaps they were going to die soon. All mortals will.

There was a little station with a sundry of instruments, there for people to try out. Everything was most likely out of tune, being floor instruments touched by thousands of hands. That didn’t stop Y/n from grabbing an acoustic guitar to show Nari, plucking at it’s strings effortlessly. It was a silly little ditty, meant to entertain the veggie lady, but still impressive. Wait.

“Since when have you been able to play?”

“Ah, I dunno, Dewdrop. High school, I guess? I can’t really remember when, but my friend Roxy showed me a few chords and then I was obsessed for months.”

“What, I- I gave you lessons just last month. You were terrible.”

“Hisirdoux Casperan we both know that was just an excuse for you to hold me and touch my hands as you positioned my fingers.”

Douxie’s face was red. She was right, of course, but he hadn’t thought he had been so obvious about it. He watched her fingers drift across the neck as she started playing a softer tune. It was a song he recognized. Y/n seemed to get lost in what she was doing, mumbling the words here and there. At one point she started actually singing. Softly, under her breath, but it was audible nonetheless. Either she had forgotten he was there or she was finally getting comfortable enough around him to let him hear the beautiful voice. He hoped it was the latter. Nevertheless, whichever it was, it was like a siren song to Douxie’s ears.

“Why don’t you ever sing?”

Y/n stopped suddenly. She looked up from the stings, her eyes wide. “What?”

“You’re always humming as you do things, but you only ever actually sing when you think no one’s around. Why’s that, Love?”

While he wouldn’t recommend she try out for a singing competition reality show any time soon, her voice was hypnotic to him. Soothed his soul. Not that silky as was traditionally praised, but somehow felt like home, like a less smooth polished fabric, like a well-loved linen. The cadence of her voice was the best sound he had ever heard even. He had only been lucky enough to hear her fully sing a few blessed times, yet he knew that he could listen to her sing forever. Addicting.

“I – well it’s quite embarrassing isn’t it? To sing in front of people. I’m no starlet.”

Okay, now Douxie was ready to punch the lights out of anyone who made her think she should hide the angel voice of hers. Embarrassing. Who the fuck had the nerve. “Hmm. I think that’s bullshit, Love.” Y/n looked taken aback, and morphed into an expression of confusion. Douxie decided this wasn’t a time to be subtle. He cupped her face in his hand, drawing her in to make eye contact. “Let me make this clear, My Darling. Everything I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth has been nothing but angelic. I would never want you to feel shame about expressing yourself, even if I didn’t think your voice was my favourite sound on the planet.”

Tears welled in Y/n’s eyes. She hadn’t expected him to say anything like that. She was so cautious to keep him from hearing her before, but he liked her singing? It was hard for her to fathom. The first time he had caught her crooning to herself while unboxing a new shipment of bestsellers in the bookstore had been mortifying. She had never wanted to relive that, but maybe she wouldn’t have to. She loved singing. Her father had liked to call her his little songbird. She had hidden away that part of herself like a chest of out of fashion clothes in a dusty attic. If someone like Douxie, her beloved, thought so kindly of her though, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to open up the chest and try on a few dresses.

“I- You’re serious? You really think that?”

Douxie held her gaze. “Absolutely.” He tipped her face up towards his to punctuate his point with a kiss.

They continued to wander through the rooms and exhibits of the museum. Douxie stopped to look at a portrait of someone he particularly missed, an old friend he had many good times with. He’d miss the geezer. He really was a great musician. He had taught Douxie a lot of tricks, and Doux wouldn’t be able to play the electric guitar half as well without his friend. He had a different kind of magic.

He was caught in his reverie when Y/n popped in from another room, urging him to come see something. Her excitement was something Doux would never stop enjoying, so he let her grab his hand so he would follow her. Douxie didn’t know what he was expecting her to show him, definitely not this. He was staring face to face with his own poster, circa 1960. They were experimenting with a new style, the rock of the day that was becoming increasingly popular. He remembered it fondly. It was a new age. The drummer in the photo, he was mortal, and while he could have been alive today, sadly he was taken, just ten years after joining the band. Seeing his smiling face filled Doux with peace. So many memories, he was glad he got to make them. And there would be more memories to come, he’d make sure of it. No order of ancient terrors breathing down his neck was gonna stop him from doing what he loved.

He was so lost in thought they he almost missed what this meant. He was in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. How did he not know he was in the fucking hall of fame. They didn’t even tell him. Well, he supposed this version of him no longer legally existed, so that made sense. Still. It was fantastic news. He was pretty proud. Some sweet validation that he always craved. Y/n had brought him here, she’d been here before, she knew. She was showing him off, to no one in particular, but the thought made him grin. Ash Dispersal Pattern in the hall of fame. Heh. He’d have to tell the others; in fact he would announce this to the group chat as soon as he had some free time. Zoe would get a kick out of him not knowing. Y/n tugged on his arm.

“Aren’t you cool, Mr. Rockstar.”