#enough to chew on but not enough to really savor? i guess??? this kept building and building literally up until credits. bravo.

[shirogane-oushirou]

just finished o.td ep1!!!!!! replaying on higher difficulty for unlockables but.......... like......... while i would have to play w canon to get us to work out (and im usually a post-canon-but-very-much-canon-adjacent shipper in most regards)........ if i didn't have two characters in the microwave already i probably would put one character in there for a minute or two and see where that took me ;;;;

[calumance]

Can we get calum and yn on vacation (somewhere tropical like Greece💋) and it's such a nice resort with so many hidden spots and each one is more perfect than the other to have sex which eventually leads to finding out about aiden a few months later🥰

I made this REAL SMUTTY because why the heck not. 

           It had been a week since the wedding, which meant it was finally time to go on your honeymoon. You and Calum had been planning this trip for far too long, and all you wanted to do was get there and enjoy the time away. Calum had suggested going to Greece for you honeymoon shortly after he proposed. Going to Greece was never something you had thought about until he brought up the idea. You did a lot of research and finally decided that was the perfect place to go for your honeymoon.

           You ended up booking a suite at the Saint John Hotel Villas & Spa Resort. When you had looked online, the pictures were just absolutely breath taking. The infinity pool that looked out onto the ocean, and the big rooms with view that would give anyone a heart attack. The thing that really sold you on that resort was the fact that the room you book had its own private pool to swim in.

           The flight was annoyingly long, twenty hours on a plane was enough to drive anyone absolutely insane. By the time you stepped off the plane, you felt like your legs wouldn’t work anymore from how long you had been sitting. Luckily, everything went off without a hitch. The reservation Calum had made for transportation from the airport to the resort went through with no problems. There was a gentleman standing by baggage claim with a sign that said, “Mr. & Mrs. Calum Hood.” When you saw the sign, you squealed and grabbed Calum’s hand, pointing to it with the other. “Look, ‘Mr. and Mrs.’ I am never going to get over that.” Calum laughed and pulled you towards the guy and introduced himself.

           You checked into the hotel at the perfect time, the room had just finished being set up. The woman at the front desk gave you the key to the room and the map on how to get there. Calum laced his fingers with yours and together you walked through the hallways to the room. Calum put the key into the door and swung the door open. The room was more than aesthetically pleasing. The walls were white, but perfectly decorated. The sheets on the bed were perfectly ironed. The doors to the private pool were open causing the drapes to flutter in the mild breeze that was blowing off the ocean. “Oh my god, Calum.” You reached back to grab at his shirt while your eyes were locked on the views in front of you.

           “Look, they left us champagne.” Calum grabbed you hand and pulled you to the bed. Sitting on a bamboo tray was two glasses of bubbly and the rest of the bottle. You and Calum made eye contact before dropping your stuff on the floor and reaching for the glasses. You faced each other and held out your glasses. “To you, my lovely new bride.” He smiled and tilted his glass towards yours.

           You smiled back and clinked you glass with his, “And to you, my amazing new husband.” The word made your lips tingle, it was something you were never going to get over calling him. His leaned down and pressed a loving kiss to your lips before placing the lip of the glass to his lips and taking a sip.

           The sun shining through the window of your hotel forced you to wake up. Calum was pressed against you, his arm draped over your waist. As much as you didn’t want to leave this spot, you slid out of his arms and grabbed the robe you had placed on the side of the bed. As you walked out the doors, the breeze pushed your hair off your shoulders. You tied the robe around yourself and made your way to the balcony, where you leaned against it and looked out to the ocean in front of you. Within a few minutes, you felt Calum wrap his arms around you, pressing his lips against your neck. “Good morning, Mrs. Hood.” He mumbled into your neck, knowing that you loved being called that.

           You turned in his arms and pressed yourself against the front of his body, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Good Morning Mr. Hood.” You smiled and kissed him, suddenly feeling hotter than normal.

           “I have a surprise for you,” He said after tearing his lips away from you. You pulled your lips into your mouth, trying to savor the way he tastes. You nod as he grabs your hand and pulls you back into the room. He pulls you through the room and into the corner of the suite where the large bathtub was filled with candles lit on the edges. The jets in the tub were going and there was a thin layer of bubbles on the top. You looked at Calum and he raised his eyebrows before discarding his clothes his dipping into the water. “Come here.” He waved his hands towards him, summoning you to move towards him.

           The gears in your head finally started moving and you took the steps closer to the tub. Once you were at the edge, you untied the robe and let it fall to the ground. You hadn’t been wearing anything under it since you fell asleep before you could put any clothes on last night. Calum looked you up and down as you stepped into the tub. He reached his hands to your waist as you dipped into the water and pulled yourself closer to him. You locked eyes for a moment before you pressed your lips against his and put your legs on either side of him.

           Calum’s hand traveled down your back, over your hips and to your thighs. You took a deep breath as the feeling of his fingers on your skin made your core heat up. Between your legs you could feel his erection growing, causing you to smile and nibble at his bottom lip. He groaned and dug his fingers into the skin right under your butt cheeks. Keeping your lips locked onto his, you slid you hand down his chest and stomach, finally ending with wrapping your hand around his hard-on. He disconnected your lips and leaned his head back, letting out a quiet moan. His throat worked as you pumped your hand up and down his length.

           After a few more strokes, he lifted his head and opened his eyes. His eyes were blown with lust, the brown in his eyes becoming black. You raised an eyebrow and stopped your movements. In one swift motion, he pressed his lips back onto yours and pulled you down over him. His hand on the back of your head kept your lips on his, but it didn’t stop the moan from escaping your chest. Instinctively, you started rolling your hips so that you could feel his entire length slide in and out of you. His free hand grabbed your chest and squeezed, earning another groan from you before you finally ripped your lips off his and let out a loud moan followed by a few curse words and his name.

           Hearing you moan his name made him grip your hips and hold you stationary as he thrusted his hips up into you. You dug your fingernails into his scalp on the back of his hair and gently pulled, your jaw dropping, trying to hold in the scream building in your chest. As he thrusted into you, the water splashed over the edge of the tub. “I can’t hold on any longer,” you managed to choke out instead of the scream. Just as the words spilled from your lips, Calum crashed his lips back onto yours, making you and him fall over the edge.

           The entire week was spent just like that. Every private place you could find, you would end up naked and gasping for breath. Even though you didn’t do any sight-seeing, it was still probably the best vacation you’ve ever took. It wasn’t until a few weeks after you got home that you started to seconds guess the decision to screw your way through your honeymoon. After many mornings of throwing up, you decided to pick up a pregnancy test while you were at the grocery store. You took the test and nervously chewed on your fingernails, waiting for the result. Once it was time to look, you picked up the stick and looked at it. You let out a breath and opened the door still staring at the small screen. On the other side of the door, Calum was walking through the bedroom dropping off a load of laundry he had just finished folding. “Hey, honey,” His voice was cheery, but you still didn’t look at him. “What’s that?”

           You finally looked up at him and let out a nervous chuckle, a small smile pulling at your lips. The tears began to well at the edge of your eyes as you reached out to hand him the stick. “I’m pregnant, Calum.”

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

Tag list: @mantlereid @notinthesameguey @viiirg0 @wheniminouterspace @thinkofmehlgh @another-lonely-heart @limer-encia @itsmytimetoodream @babyoria

[flowapuddle]

Haikyuu x Athletic! FEMALE Reader

okay so enjoy this book and the chapters, please don’t copy or take credit of it - Puddle ❤️

Chapter 1

The Sisters From The States

“Is this where volleyball is held at?” You questioned looking at the building and raising a eyebrow

“I assume yes since the principle told us where to go” You heard Aaliyah mutter under her breathe as she was with her bored face also examining the building

“Well let’s go inside I am pretty sure there has to be volleyball players in their” You say as you approach the metal door and opening it as you both walked into the gym

Once walking inside you see boys practicing volleyball you caught a glimpse of a boy doing a quick attack jump serve almost immediately the ball came zooming towards you as you dodged out of the way almost getting hit in the face with the ball

“Oi!” You shouted after you gained your balance

As the ball meet the ground it bounced off as that was the only thing you can hear, everyone was dead silent eventually

You heard a bit of whispering going on as everyone had their eyes on you making you slightly uneasy as you cleared your thoart a bit

“Is this...where ummm volleyball is held?” You questioned as you looked around the room finally noticing it was all boys practicing and only two girls that looked like mangers on the side

A boy with sliver hair walked forward and smiled gently at you breaking the awkward tension in the room or really in the gym

“Ahh yes this is where volleyball is held though, sadly this is the boys volleyball team and not the girls. We don’t have a girls team anymore” He said as gently as he kept his smile on his face

You tilted your head in confusion slightly “No girls volleyball what do you mean? Their has to be a girls volleyball”You said with frown as you slightly furrowed your eyebrow

“No they were unfortunately they were shutdown a few weeks ago since there wasn’t enough girls that went to try out for them”

“Oh I see...Then why would the principal tell us they had a girls volleyball team..?” You questioned out loud and started to think deep into thought

While you were thinking you failed to notice the boys starting to crowd around you as your sister slightly backed away from them not liking crowds of any sorts

“I am sorry I have never seen you around school before and, you look very familiar” The same boy with sliver hair questioned

“Ah, right..er sorry I didn’t introduce myself I am still new to this whole thing umm my name is Imaah (Y/n)” You said as you looked around the crowd of boys

“And this is my older sister, Imaah Aaliyah”

“Sup” Aaliyah added as she did a lazy peace sign from were she was standing away from the crowd

“We are from the states if you couldn’t tell; we moved here one week ago” You said as you looked at boys as you smiled

“Y-your the AMAAH (Y-Y/N) FROM VOLLEYBALL MONTHLY!!!?” One of the boys yelled out he was taller than you and he had shaved head

You kept smiling as you meekly nodded your head “P-people still read those things...hahaha” you said nervously

“Well yeah any sport player would read that—“ He was cut off by a smaller boy who was a couple inches shorter than you having one piece of blonde stranded tip laying on his forehead

“YOUR ACTUALLY THE FAMOUS IMAAH SISTERS BEING RANKED NUMBER #1 BEST WOMENS ATHLETE” He practically screamed startling you as you nodded

“I guess so yeah” You said with a chuckle

“Wow, this a dream come true” He mumbled before he looked like he was going to dramatically faint with his friend

With all the boys reacting differently it made you slightly kinda nervous in a sense

“Oi” You heard a voice behind you as it was coming from Aaliyah as she was still leaning against the wall with arms crossed

All the boys gushing over well really two boys gushing over you stopped

“My sister needs to be part of a club if I remember correctly, she needs to be part of this volleyball club. Since this is the only sport she is interested in.” She stated bluntly looking at everyone

“Who’s the captain of this team” She asked as each one of the boys all at once stepped away from someone towards the back what assume was the captain making him sweetdropped

“Some kind of team I have” you can only imagine him saying to himself

Aaliyah leaned off the wall and walked towards the person slightly towering him, she was 182.88 cm tall (6’0 ft)

He swallowed nervously as his face turned red not because it was because a pretty girl that was taller than him no no no it because he was nervous as hell

“Let my sister be a manger” Aaliyah said more like a statement and less like a question he nodded

“Of c-course! We will g-gladly expect her!” He said chuckling stepping back a bit to look at her instead of having to look directly up towards her

“Jeez Aaliyah, don’t kill the man....it already looks like he is about to pee his pants” You said mumbling out as sweatdropped

“Why would I kill the man?” Aaliyah questioned out walking away from him as he took in a big breathe of air being able to finally breathe

“Since I am going to be the manger, you have to be the manger also Aaliyah!” You said cheerful catching her off guard as she walked next to you looking down at you with a frown

“No”

(TIME SKIP~~!)

After a couple of hours of being in the gym with the guys and convincing your sister to be manger they introduce themselves to the both of you. Then even wanted to celebrate getting two new manger by getting some meat buns

“Wow, so your telling me in the states they also have junior olympics!!” Hinata said with a smile as you were walking next to him answering his questions as you sister was on the otherside of you

“Yeah they do, it’s pretty fun over there and it’s cool to meet new people and a couple of sport celebrities” You said with a chuckle following the boys infront of you

“Do you do anything besides volleyball?” Hinata questioned keeping his smile as he looked at you

“Yeah I enjoy watching Aaliyah basketball games and help her workout. Other than that I try to keep myself to do things that are sports related” You said as you chuckled

“Amazing, you have to teach me your serving technique!i have seen it a couple of times and try to teach myself but I could never get it down” He said jumping up and down infront of you having a bright atmosphere, he was like a big bright ball of sunshine

“Sure we can start tomorrow” You hummed out as you the volleyball team walked into the convent store

“Sakanoshita market?” Aaliyah hummed out looking around blinking “it looks like a liquor store to me” Aaliyah said in English only you understood making the volleyball boys look at her crazy

As she blinked at them “What?” She questioned

“You spoke another language” Daichi said slightly in awe

“Well we are from the states it’s obvious we speak another language other than Japanese” She said in her stoic voice walking past him and down one of the isles to look at different things

You walked to him patting his shoulder noticing how his awe state went into a glumly type of state

“She’ll warm to everyone eventually give her time” You said with a encouraging smile as he looked at you for a while and nodded his head blushing

“Anyways let’s try out what you call a meatbun I have never had one before neither has Aaliyah” You said encouraging looking at the team

Daichi nodded his head and left you with the group to grab some meatbuns as he had almost chest full of meatbuns and walked towards the counter to pay for them and getting a plastic bag to put them in

He came back with a plastic bag and smiled lifting it up “Alright let’s go” You heard him say as he walked out of the little mini market as everyone followed behind him

Everyone was outside of the shop as he held open the plastic bag smiling looking at Aaliyah and you

“Go ahead grab the first one!” He said with a warm smile as he let Aaliyah and you grab a meat-bun first

You grabbed the item as you opened it and bite down into it as your eyes went big and chewed on it “Oh wow so delicious! You have to take a bite of it Aayliah!” You said eating the meat-bun as savoring the flavor

“umm...” Aaliyah said a bit hesitantly looking at the food item

“Don’t be nervous try it!” You said encouraging her as you kept eating yours almost finish with it

“I don’t know” Aaliyah mumbled out slightly still contemplating the idea of eating it

The meatbun was snatched from her hand as Sugawara smiled at her “Say ah” He said sweetly with his eyes shut

Aaliyah blinked at him and furrowed her eyebrows she stared at item as you along with the team watched the 3rd year feed Aaliyah her with curiosity

“Ahh” She said quietly as he placed the meat-bun in her mouth letting her take a bite of

Almost immediately you can tell she liked it as her eyes pupils grew a bit in size and her face soften and her body instantly became more relaxed as she kept chewing

You smiled at the two but the moment was ruined completely

“AALIYAH LET ME FEED YOU MY MEAT-BUN TOO!!!” both Tanka and Nishinoya yelled very very loudly

Making Aaliyah snap out of her calm and dazed state as she visible became more tense as her pupils sharpened and her bored facial expression came back onto her face

She grabbed the meat-bun from Sugawara hand and glaring the three boys “I know how to eat on my own” She said trying to keep her glare as a visible pink blush was on her deep umber brown skin as she looked away from everyone eating the rest of the meatbun

You smiled at Sugawara giving him a thumbs up and eventually looked down at your risk watch looking at the time

“I think Aaliyah and I should start—“

Before finishing your sentence there was a man with blonde hair pushed back by a black stringy headband as he held a mop in his hand and a cirgreet in his mouth yelling

“DONT CAUSE A COMMITION OUTSIDE MY STORE OR ELSE I WILL BEAT EACH ONE OF YOU WITH THIS MOP AGAIN” He yelled obviously pissed

“Again...?” You said questioning outloud

“First time is when Tanka and Hinata fighting over the last meat-bun...” Daichi said with a sweatdrop

“Sorry coach” Daichi mumbled quietly as volleyball group of boys began walking away from the shop at a very fast pace before getting hit in the head with mop

Everyone walked the same way for a while having conversation with either you or your sister as everyone slowly started to break off when they would get to their stop

“We can walk you home if you like” Said Daichi with Sugawara and Nishinoya the only three boys left

“We don’t want to trouble you with walking us, besides you don’t have too it’s just one block ahead” You said with a nervous smile

“Ah none of us mind plus we are only doing are job as both of your senpais!” Noya said with his hand on his hips smiling pointing at himself

Aaliyah furrowed her eyebrow visibly confused “How are you any of you my so called senpai? When I am about to turn 18?” She said questioned raising her eyebrow looking at all three of them “the only one that should be calling you senpai is literally my sister” She said pointing at you the two still continued to walk

The three boys were quiet for a second before

“YOUR ABOUT TO TURN 18?!” They all yelled in unison

Aaliyah winced at the loud noise frowning

“Shut up your voices” She said bluntly, glaring at the three before walking to the what seemed like a gate and typing in some numbers on a keypad

The gate was steel black with the word “I” in a fancy font in the center of the gate showing what the boys only assumed to be your residences

They boys stared in awe never seeing something like this before

“Woah, I didn’t think your house would be on a hill I have never seen something like this before” Daichi said in a amazement

“Yeah, due to both of our parents and who they are we can afford something like this!” You said smiling looking up to the house on the hill

“Cool!” Noya said staring in amazement

“Wow, I wonder how I can only imagine how big it is on the inside” Sugawara said out loud as the gate opened up

Allowing Aaliyah and you access inside the gated estate

“Maybe next time the volleyball team can come over, and we can have dinner at my place! My parents wouldn’t mind I am sure” You said walking past the gate inside

You kept walking to catch up with Aaliyah being a couple steps behind her as you turned around smiling at the boys waving one of your arms

“BYE SENPAIS SEE YOU TOMORROW AT SCHOOL!!!” You shouted smiling happy

You saw them clutch there shirts were their hearts were at as they were visable heart struck in a good way

You eventually caught up to Aaliyah as you smiled up to her she looked down at you with a visable bored face as she ruffled your hair like always

You two walked up the hill as you got inside and mostly you told your parents about everything that happened today making them have a smile

“You knew moving out of the country would be so fun” You thought before you fell asleep

END👩🏾‍🦯✨

——————————————————————————

A/n: Just to clear up a few things

( this is what the house mansion looks like from the back of it, this is we’re you live, yes your rich)

(This is what the front of the house looks like but without the steam coming from the water)

( this is the gate that opened in case you couldn’t picture it, but instead of a B there is a I on since it’s your last name)

(This is what your sister looks like she is the one on the right, yes your sister is POC don’t worry about the girl next to her that’s just another one of my OC’s that won’t be included in the story)

(Also let me clarify, you play volleyball and Aaliyah plays basketball)

Thanks for reading see you in the next chapter - Puddle ❤️

Chapter 2 is here !!!

Chapter Story Board

[littlestarofthewest]

Title: Meeting Miss Morgan | Word Count: 3289 | Rating (for entire fic): 18+!!!

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female OC | Chapter: 04 of 08 |  Link to Masterlist

Arthur knows what he's doing is stupid. In fact, he is stupid. He got up even earlier than usual, taking care of the firewood. Julie prepares it most of the time, but when she briefly mentioned in conversation that she doesn't particularly like doing it, Arthur immediately had the urge to do it for her.

He likes to think that he's just trying to help out around the farm, but after the pencils and the whole trouble Arthur went through with Jasper, he can't pretend that what he's doing has nothing to do with Julie. Somehow he always ends up helping her in particular.

Ever since she kissed him on the cheek, she wanders around in his mind when he's not busy thinking about something else. Having the chance to hold her in his arms didn't make it any easier. In fact, he feels like he's years younger, even more of an idiot, and stupid enough to think that she might like him as more than a friend, if at all. 

Julie's a nice person. Doing sweet things comes naturally to her, and has nothing to do with Arthur, but he still can't stop hoping. He's chopping wood and buys a new shirt like a changed man, as if he wasn't a killer, wanted outlaw, and complete failure.

Arthur finishes the last logs with a sigh, knowing full well that his day won't get any better. With some tools, he heads out to one end of Mr. Henderson's property, beginning the work that will probably take him the whole week, building a new fence.

On the one hand, it's a good thing that he can stay away from the stables for a while. That way, he at least can't embarrass himself in front of Julie. On the other hand, he has a lot of time to think. 

For the last two days, he's been remembering his ride with Julie. They didn't talk much, but Julie kept smiling at Arthur, so abundantly happy that she was finally able to ride Jasper. It was a joy to watch her race over open fields, her blonde hair flying in the wind. She seemed to glow in a golden shine under the warm summer sun, so free and unburdened that watching her made Arthur's heart ache. 

Fuelled with those memories, Arthur keeps working on the fence, trying to neither think back to his old life nor imagine the future. All that matters is hitching up posts, one after the other until the day is gone.

He makes good progress until he hears a rider approach. Arthur's heart drops when Julie rides up to him on Jasper. "Hello, Arthur."

Arthur tips his hat, pulling it deeper into his face. "Jules."

She hops off the horse and strides over to him with a bundle in her hand, her eyes wandering over the already finished fence. "Let me guess, you didn't take any breaks."

Arthur opens his mouth, but Julie shakes her head and takes his hammer away before throwing it into the grass. Then she grabs his hand and pulls him to the nearby woods, making him sit down on a fallen tree in the shadow of a few branches.

"I had time to make something to eat for you since the firewood was already done," Julie says, raising a single brow at Arthur while unpacking the bundle in her hand.

"Was it?" Arthur says, looking out over the farmland in front of them. 

Julie pushes a bowl with stew into his hand and tops it off with a thick slice of bread. "It's cold but better than nothing."

"Thank you," Arthur says, although he's not sure how he's supposed to eat with butterflies in his stomach. 

Julie is sitting way too close, her leg brushing against his. Arthur would move, but then he'd fall off the tree. Instead, he shovels a spoonful of stew into his mouth. That should keep Julie from asking him any questions. 

"You know that you don't have to do everything, right?" she asks.

Arthur chews, but Julie keeps looking at him, waiting for an answer. He clears his throat, trying to come up with an excuse. "I don't mind the firewood. It's quiet work, relaxing. Just like building a fence."

"You must have had quite the excitement before when you actually like doing these boring things."

"Enough for a lifetime," Arthur says, knowing that he's avoiding her unspoken question. It's not fair to keep it a secret from Julie who he truly is, but the thought of her thinking less of him twists Arthur's stomach into knots.

He forces down more stew, and maybe Julie takes the hint or just wants for him to eat, but she stays quiet, looking up into the trees. They sit there until Arthur is done eating, and Julie fetches a bottle of water for him as well, scolding him for not bringing one along in the first place. 

Arthur thanks her again, trying to put the bottle into his bag to bring it along. He curses when one side of the bag tears, and his journal drops to the ground. It falls open, and Arthur hurries to pick it up, but Julie is quicker than him. Her eyes grow big as she looks at the page, and Arthur's heart stops, thinking about the things he recently wrote about her.

"I thought you only wrote in this," Julie says, "I didn't know you were drawing, too."

"It's just silly little doodles," Arthur says, hoping that Julie won't turn the page.

"That's the whole farm from the viewpoint up on that ridge," Julie says with wonder in her voice. She moves a few steps before turning around, holding the journal up against the horizon. "Arthur, that's incredible. Where did you learn to draw like this?"

"My pa," Arthur begins, realizing too late that he was thinking about Hosea and horrible guilt consumes him. 

"Your father was an artist?"

"No, what I meant was that he gave me my first journal when I was 15," Arthur says, the memory weighing heavy on him. "I've been trying to draw whatever I saw since then."

"Well, then he's a good father. You're really talented," Julie says. She closes the journal with such care as if it was a precious relic before handing it over. "I've meant to draw a few places around here, but somehow I never get around to it."

"How come?" Arthur asks, wishing he could see some of Julie's drawings.

"Mrs. Henderson would say I work too much," Julie sighs, "and Mr. Henderson is always concerned about me. A young woman alone on the road? Better not. There's a beautiful pond up in those woods, but there's a road going past with many travelers and stagecoaches, so there are sometimes bandits in the woods as well. Mr. Henderson would kill me if I went there on my own."

"He's not wrong," Arthur says. He met enough outlaws in his time who went far beyond thieving and killing. Some of them were so bad, you wished they would have killed their victims. "There are some bad people out there."

Julie studies Arthur for a moment as if to ask if he's one of them, but then she walks over to Jasper. "I better let you work now, or Mr. Henderson will have my head for distracting you."

"Thank you for the food," Arthur says again. After all, he can't tell Julie that she's already distracting him anyway.

"Somebody has to take care of you," Julie says with a smile before riding off, leaving Arthur with a warm feeling in his chest.

------

The next morning, Arthur walks out of his cabin, finding a fresh water bottle and a tightly wrapped package in front of his door. He doesn't have to look inside to know what it is. Julie must have gotten up even earlier than usual to prepare some food for him. Arthur picks it up, finding a little note tucked into one of the folds. It says, "Take some breaks."

Smiling, Arthur puts the package in his saddlebag and rides out to continue his work on the fence. This time, he doesn't mind those thoughts of Julie dance around in his head. He can't change her as much as he can't change himself, so he might as well enjoy her kindness, no matter how undeserved it might be.

When noon comes around, Arthur takes Julie's advice to have a break. He unpacks the food package, finding cold roast, bread, and berries. Sitting in the shadow of a huge tree, Arthur savors his meal. Somehow, it tastes so much better than anything he's ever eaten before. He's about to pack up when he finds a piece of paper sticking out from under his plate.

Arthur pulls it out, his eyes growing wide. It's a drawing of him on the Mustang riding up to the stables. Despite sketching other people all the time, Arthur has never seen a picture of himself. It's like looking into the mirror, and he's impressed how well Julie can draw. 

Wondering why Julie picked this specific scene, Arthur's stomach does a little summersault when he remembers what happened right afterward. Closing his eyes, Arthur can imagine how Julie's touch felt on his skin, but then he quickly gets up. He can't risk to drift off into these kinds of phantasies. 

Instead, Arthur carefully folds up the drawing and puts it in his breast pocket before riding out to town. Mr. Henderson asked him to run some errands, and he might be able to find a little thank you gift for Julie. At least that's what Arthur thought.

He's done with Mr. Henderson's business in no time, but even after an hour, Arthur can't find anything to give to Julie. He can't exactly gift her a sack of rice, but at the same time, anything more personal could give her the wrong - or worse - the right idea about Arthur's growing feelings for her. In the end, he decides that a heartfelt thank you has to do.

On his way back, Arthur has another idea, though. He's on the road Julie talked about the day before, so Arthur steers his horse into the trees to find the pond. It takes him a little going back and forth, but he knows what Julie has been talking about once he sees it.

It's a beautiful place with high trees and lots of flowers that surround the small body of water. Birds are singing, and when Arthur comes closer, a few deer quickly jump away and disappear. Letting his horse roam free, Arthur walks around the pond two times to find the right spot before settling down with his journal.

Usually, Arthur's quick with his drawings. He always had other things to do or was with someone who didn't appreciate him taking forever to sketch an abandoned church or oddly shaped tree. Today, Arthur takes his time. He tries to capture how the sun sparkles on the water, and painstakingly draws all the single petals on most of the flowers. He only rushes to finish the picture when the sun begins to set.

Looking at his finished work in the dim light, Arthur remembers Julie's words about him being talented, and for the first time in a long while, he feels proud about something that he did. Folding the paper as carefully as possible, he puts it to Julie's drawing in his pocket and hurries back to the farm so he won't miss dinner.

At the house, Julie greets him with a lovely smile, and Arthur's heart skips a beat once again. Thinking about giving her the drawing later makes him so nervous he can barely follow the conversation. When they're done eating, Julie heads outside to play her guitar, and Mr. Henderson holds Arthur back to talk about work.

Arthur nods along until Mr. Henderson finally gives him free. Outside, Arthur finds Julie sitting on the steps that lead up to the door. Her guitar is lying next to her, but she's not playing.

"No music tonight?" Arthur asks.

"I felt like watching the stars," Julie says before turning to Arthur and patting the floor next to her. "Come sit with me."

Arthur swallows a lump in his throat, feeling like he might pass out. He can't remember the last time he's been so nervous. For a moment, he thinks about making up an excuse to go, but his feet act on their own, carrying him all too willingly over to Julie. He sits down next to her, leaving generous space between them, but Julie scoots closer, pointing into the sky.

"I love that one," she says, and Arthur follows the line of her outstretched arm to a big star that shines particularly bright.

"It's pretty," Arthur says, looking at Julie. She turns her head, and he tries desperately to come up with something else to say. "Thank you for the food. And the drawing. You're way more talented than I am."

Julie's cheeks gain a little color, and she waves her hand. "Like you said, just silly little drabbles."

Arthur thinks about the picture in his breast pocket, and it takes all his courage to take it out and hand it to Julie. "I thought about what you said when I was heading back from town. You probably could have done a better job, though."

Julie unfolds the paper and gasps before staring at Arthur. "You drew the pond?"

"I gave it a shot," Arthur says, rubbing his neck. Now that Julie is looking at it, he begins to see mistakes he didn't notice before, and he feels he should have taken more time to get the picture right.

"It's beautiful," Julie says, her eyes wandering over the page. "The details in the flowers. The water. This must have taken you forever."

Arthur shrugs. "Maybe when I'm done with the fence, we can ride up there together, and you can draw it yourself. Or any of the other places you wanted to draw."

Julie looks back up at Arthur, a shine in her eyes that makes his skin tickle. "You would do that?"

Arthur's not quite sure how they ended up so close to each other, and he knows he should just say yes, or maybe nod, but he's always been an idiot. "For you," he says, his voice almost giving out on him.

He moves even closer to Julie, knowing full well that he shouldn't. She opens her mouth as if to say something, but then she leans in, and Arthur closes the distance between them, his lips brushing against Julie's. Arthur's heart feels like it might jump out of his chest any second, and he wants nothing more than to hold Julie close, but then the door screeches behind them.

They move apart as if hit by lightning, and only seconds later, Mrs. Henderson comes out of the house. "Aren't you going to play, Julie? I really feel like-"

She stops herself when her eyes fall on the paper in Julie's hand. "Oh, my dear, that's lovely. When did you draw that?"

Julie throws a quick glance over to Arthur before handing the drawing to Mrs. Henderson. "I didn't. Arthur drew it today."

Mrs. Henderson's mouth falls open, and she looks back and forth between Arthur and the drawing. "Well, look at you, Mr. Morgan. Aren't you full of surprises? Who knows what else we might find the longer you stay with us."

She can't know it, but her words cut deep, and Arthur gets to his feet. "I think I better go to sleep. I want to get an early start on that fence."

"You two make quite the couple," Mrs. Henderson sighs, running a hand over Julie's hair. "The name, the drawing, and nothing but work in your heads. The two of you really need to have some fun for a change."

Julie lets out a muffled noise, and Arthur wishes he could just melt into the ground. Instead, he taps his hat. "Goodnight."

He turns around, walking away so quickly that he doesn't know if the two women respond. Arthur's whole body seems to fill up with rage, and he wishes he could give himself a good beating. 

When he left the gang, Arthur swore that he's done with making stupid mistakes, yet here he is, well on his way to hurt a nice, young woman, and maybe ruining more lives. The surprises he's filled with are danger, sorrow, and regret. Neither Julie nor the Henderson's deserve any of that. If he wants to stay, he has to get himself under control.

--------

Pretending to be busy with the fence, Arthur manages to stay away from Julie for two days, and then he jumps at the chance when Mr. Henderson asks him to bring one of the horses he sold to its buyer. That way, he gets to stay away for three more days, trying to sort out his feelings. 

At first, he goes with booze but concludes that that's just one more mistake, considering how he behaves when drunk. The trouble is that Arthur can't sleep when he's sober. He's tossing and turning, only drifting off for a few minutes before waking up in a cold sweat, guilt consuming him over and over again.

By the time Arthur gets back to the farm, he's so tired he can barely walk straight and doesn't remember the last time he ate. Still, he brings his horse into the stable, doing his best to take care of it. It's already dark, and Arthur hoped he could sneak into his cabin without anybody noticing. Of course, he has no such luck.

"Arthur?" Julie asks behind him, and Arthur does his best to stand up straight when he turns around to her.

"Yes, it's me. I just got back."

Julie takes a step closer, worry in her eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Just a little tired," Arthur says with a forced smile. "It's been a long ride."

He's not sure if he actually sways at those words, but it sure feels that way. Julie comes even closer, studying his face. "A little tired? You're dead on your feet. What's wrong?"

Arthur knows that he won't get out of this so quickly, so he shrugs. "Haven't slept well for the last few days. I'll be fine."

He waits for Julie to scold him, but she just takes his hand and leads him into the next empty stall. It's filled with fresh hay, and Julie forces him to sit down. "I'll be right back," she says, her voice low.

Arthur wishes he could go, but he's not sure he could get up on his feet before Julie's back. Instead, he shrugs out of his jacket and puts it behind his head like a makeshift pillow. He's staring at the wall on the other side when Julie appears in front of him. She puts a blanket over him and then sits down with her guitar on her legs.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asks, but Julie only shakes her head.

"Just close your eyes."

She starts playing, and Arthur does as she says. He's nervous with her closeby, and he wants to apologize, but he's not sure how to even get the words out. "I'm sorry, Jules," he finally manages to say.

"Sleep, Arthur," Julie says, her voice warm and comfortable like the blanket over him. "You'll be fine."

It takes a while until Arthur can focus on the music, but then a nice heavy feeling settles in his stomach, the notes carrying him over into a better world, a world where he doesn't have to apologize for liking someone.

[justjessame]

Never Have I Ever (Chapter 1): The Game

I was sitting across from the devil himself. At least that’s what they’d all told me. All of my friends. All of my family. They all considered him Satan incarnate. I had my doubts.

“Rick the Prick has a sister.” He was studying me as I studied him. Here in his domain. Here where I’d been brought along with Daryl when he’d murdered Abraham and Glenn. Daryl, taken because of his temper, me for God knew what reason. Possibly just another dig at my older brother. I didn’t answer Negan. It wasn’t a question, and I felt that Rick’s confirmation of who I was to him pretty much covered it. “Bet you’re wondering why you’re here.”

“Mildly curious.” I answered, taking in the man sitting before me. He was more at ease here, in his apartment. The leather jacket gone, the red scarf tossed too. Just him, me, and that fucking bat still coated in Abe and Glenn’s brain matter and blood. “More curious about where Daryl is right now.”

Negan’s eyes narrowed as he considered what I was saying. “You and the redneck?” I smiled. Oh, he wanted to know if Daryl and I were a thing.

“Does it matter?” I asked, thinking that the best way to learn what this entire deal was would be to question him, subtly.

“Makes it funnier,” he shrugged and my eyebrow arched in annoyance. “He’s fine.” He waved off the topic of Daryl. “You’re not curious why you’re here?”

I tilted my head. Waiting. And we sat together in silence. I didn’t want to break it first. Not give him that power, the power to force me to jump to his commands. I wanted him to get that me and my people weren’t to be dismissed or trifled with. That we weren’t his playthings. That he wasn’t my boss, my god, or my master.

He sat back, the leather couch making a slight crunching noise that denim on leather makes. “Curious about good ole Daryl, but not about your own fate. That’s ballsy, princess.” I shrugged. “What if,” his hands tented into a V shape under his chin, watching me and contemplating his next words. “What if I brought you here for-” I catch his eyes flick toward the bed. And I snorted. Hard.

“Sex?” I laughed, long and hard. “What if you brought me here to fuck? Oh that IS hilarious. Are you hard up, Negan? Have to take women hostage so they can come play in your bed?”

He watched me laugh and it was a real true laughing fit. This terrible, evil man was trying to insinuate that he brought me, Eveyln Grimes, here to screw. Jesus, I hadn’t found something so funny in so long I felt almost hysterical. I got my shit under control as he waited, surprisingly patient, hands still tented.

“You done?” I nodded, feeling a hiccup build. “Trust me when I say I am NOT hard up.” I raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I’m not, sweetheart, in fact I’ll take you to meet my wives later.”

“Wives?” I snorted again, another laughing fit threatening to hit. “Dear God, I don’t know which scenario is more pathetic, a man with NO game, or a man who thinks he has TOO MUCH game.” I rolled my eyes and sat back in my chair. “Now I am curious. Why am I here, oh great and wondrous one?” I was holding back another eruption of giggles, but just barely.

His eyes narrowed. Clearly he was finding me more than a little irritating. Good. I wanted to piss him off. I wanted to make him see that I wasn’t just some girl he could crook his finger to and I’d come running. The fucking nerve of him. Even if there wasn’t a tiny voice reminding me that he’d just murdered two of our people, I wouldn’t show him fear.

“Tell me about yourself.” A command, loud and clear.

“No.” Just as loud, just as clear. My arms crossed over my chest and I got comfortable. He could put me wherever Daryl was, he could fucking kill me at this point, but he wasn’t going to get me to jump just because he said to.

A raised eyebrow and his hands moved to lay on top of his thighs. The movement forced my eyes down, to see that fucking bat sitting on the table between us. “You’re not being very fucking cooperative, princess.”

“I’m also not a fucking princess, but that fact doesn’t seem to bother you.” I tossed back. I hated being called ‘princess’ by anyone. My own father didn’t do it.

He was chewing on his words again. And I really wanted to see him lose it. The confidence, the coolness. I wanted him to be fucking irritated to the point I’d be shunted out of his presence and hopefully imprisoned near Daryl. Harder to get an escape planned if I didn’t know where he was.

“Let’s play a game.” I rolled my eyes, what were we twelve? “I’ll even let you pick.” He stood up and walked to a small bar I hadn’t noticed behind his sofa. He was fussing with the bottles, and I had a flash of an idea. Fuck, if I could get his ass so damn drunk that he didn’t know which end was up, then I could possibly get the hell of this room.

“Never Have I Ever.” I said, and he looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“Never have you ever what?” Oh, he truly didn’t fucking know the game. “Played a game?”

I shook my head. “No, it IS a game. Grab a couple of shot glasses and whatever stupid nasty rotgut you’ve got piled over there and we’ll play it.” He smirked. “A drinking game?” Clearly he was taking in the fact that I’m barely five foot tall barefooted and just over a buck twenty pounds. Yes, underestimate me, Negan. Please.

I nodded and he grabbed a few bottles and juggled two glasses. Sitting them on the table between us, I waited until he’d re-seated himself. I explained the rules, and he nodded his understanding.

“You can even ask the first ‘never have I ever,’” I offered, thinking it would tell me more about where his mind was anyway. “But first we have to pour the drinks.” And so we did.

“Never have I ever been married.” He drank, clearly understanding, yet misinterpreting the rules. Look, if it got his ass drunk first, then I’d roll with the rule breaking. I didn’t take a drink. An eyebrow from him, and I rolled my eyes.

“Never have I ever been into science fiction.” Fuck it, let’s start easy. He drank and I snorted. Negan as a nerdy geek wasn’t something I was prepared for. “Trek or Wars?” I asked, knowing just enough lingo to get by.

He smirked. “Never have I ever gone to a renaissance fair.” He didn’t drink, but I did. “Hark who’s shaming.” I grinned. Ok, so we’re both nerds.

We kept up the easy lobs, I found out that he liked Trek better than Wars. That he was into classic rock, but wasn’t completely against newer music (before the world went to hell and creativity died). I found out that Negan was strangely normal. He’d taught PE in a high school. He learned that I hadn’t been in touch with my family for a few months prior to the outbreak. That I hadn’t known that Rick and Carl had survived until they showed up in Alexandria. He knew that I preferred mint green to pink, that my car had been a restored ‘67 Mustang and I missed the car more than I missed most people. It was time to go down to the scary ones. And we were both far too sober.

“Never have I ever raped someone.” I offered and he didn’t drink. That was a surprise, I guess.

“Why fuck someone who doesn’t want to? Why violate someone when there’s always a willing partner just down the way?” He offered, but there was a sharpness in his eyes. “I’d kill anyone here who tried it.” Well, that calmed some of my tension. “Never have I ever killed someone before this shit started.” I know what he meant, before the world went to shit. I knocked back another drink and this time his eyes went wide.

“What?” I asked, going for a nonchalant air, but it fell flat even to my own ears.

“Why?” He asked, and I was going to fight answering. It wasn’t his turn. But fuck it, why not?

I sighed. “My job, Negan, that’s why.” And he was still staring. “Allow me to introduce myself properly.” I stood up and at attention, ramrod straight. “Captain Evelyn Grimes.” I didn’t salute, he wasn’t my commanding officer. “I’d just taken a position in Washington when shit went to shit.”

He was staring at me as I sat back down. Looking at me like he’d never seen someone like me before, which he probably hadn’t. “Which branch?”

“Army.” I answered. “I liked that one quote from the poster, ‘Join the Army; travel to exotic, distant lands; meet exciting, unusual people and kill them’.” I shrugged. Could we be done now? He nodded to himself and I took it as a go. “Never have I ever been handcuffed.” I didn’t drink and neither did he. Weird, figured at least some woman would have done it to him at some point to get him at her mercy, if he hadn’t gotten on the wrong side of the law.

“Never have I ever-” Negan stared at me and I knew he was trying to decide the best route. “Given a lap dance.” Shit, I drank. His eyebrow raised. “Why, Miss Grimes, that’s a fucking surprise.”

Rolling my eyes, and swallowing past the burn of the dark liquor I’d shot down, I smirked at him. “If that surprised you, then you might not fucking survive the game.” Then taking stock of him, my grin grew. “Never have I ever had a lap dance.”

His dimples came out in full bloom as he took his own drink. “Doubt that surprises you much.” He offered, as he savored his drink. “Never have I ever flirted with a teacher.” I waited to see if he took a drink from his own glass, because I highly doubted he’d be able to stop himself. When he didn’t I rolled my eyes and took my own. “Damn, dirty little thing aren’t you?”

“I think you should have drank too,” I squinted at him. “Never tried to get a little Mrs. Robinson action in school?” He laughed, and it was the strangest thing I’d ever heard. A laugh from his mouth, his mocking hateful mouth, and it was almost musical.

“Nah, I preferred the sure bets.” I chuckled. Yeah, his ego wouldn’t have taken the hit of an older woman turning down his ass flat. “Did you only flirt?”

“It’s not your turn, Negan.” His eyes widened. Too bad, not his turn. “Never have I ever kissed someone that was my own gender.” Neither of us drank, damn it. I’d hoped, I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t get it.

“Never have I ever slept with a teacher.” Damn it. I took a drink. “Seriously, dirty little girl.” Were his eyes twinkling? Asshole. “It’s not my turn, but fuck if I don’t want to know more.”

“What’s to know? I like older men.” I shrugged. “Never have I ever had a threesome.” I hadn’t, I don’t like to share or be shared. Since he had WIVES I assumed he’d drink. When he didn’t, I was annoyed. “Seriously? You have a harem and you’ve never decided to double dip at one go?”

He shook his head. “I like to keep my focus on what I’m doing.” Getting yourself off, I supplied. “More than one target and my attention isn’t where it should be.” On yourself. “Never have I ever been caught fucking.” We both drank, and I had to laugh.

“You’re gonna get yourself hammered, Negan, asking those questions.” I raised an eyebrow, and considered my next. “Never have I ever watched someone fucking outside of porn.” He drank, I didn’t. Voyeurism wasn’t something I aspired to. I was smirking, certain that while he didn’t partake in threesomes, that he might expect entertainment from the wives.

“Not them.” He offered, clearly reading the smirk for the thought that it came from. “Just got lucky a few times.” He winked and I rolled my eyes. “Never have I ever been fucked for an audience.” Different from being caught, he wanted to know if I’d done it for fun. I drank and his eyebrow nearly left his face. “Damn, Captain Grimes, I may have underestimated you.”

I swallowed the sip and glared into my glass. “This shit is disgusting.” It was, but not because it was homemade or because it was bad quality. I just hated brown liquors. “Never have I ever-” I tilted my head to study him. “Fucked the enemy.” Neither of us drank. “Glad to know that I won’t be the first to shoot your ass down.” I muttered, and he laughed.

“Ah, sweetheart, I’m not the enemy.” I raised an eyebrow. “You just don’t KNOW me yet.” I snorted, loudly. “Never have I ever had sex with a stranger.” He didn’t drink, but I did. Shit. This was a horrible idea for a game. “Fuck, Evelyn, I think you’re a fucking package full of surprises aren’t you?”

I licked an errant drop of the burning alcohol from my bottom lip and saw his eyes focus on it. “Never have I ever kissed a stranger.” We both drank, and I was starting to feel the slight ease that comes with alcohol. The lightning of the tension that had built up from the moment I’d been forced to my knees in the dirt.

And it went, on and on, until I think we both felt far more friendly and happy. Not drunk, just pleasantly buzzed. “Never have I ever,” I studied him, thinking about the facts I’d learned so far, and smiled. “Fucked a student.” I didn’t drink, but he did. “Why Negan, aren’t you just a kinky little bastard.” I sat back in my seat and my grin grew. “So did she play naughty school girl and you were the randy professor?” He was watching my glee grow. “Oohh, did she wear the uniform? Or-” I closed my eyes and a laugh bubbled up, “you taught PE, was it a cheerleader uniform?” I opened my eyes to see him staring at me. I put on a pout and tilted my head as I twirled a lock of my hair around my finger. “Coach, I just don’t think I’m gonna be able to get the split just right, can I have a little extra help?” I’d made my voice a little breathless and I batted my eyelashes.

He snorted, and rolled his eyes. “She was an adult, asshole.” I laughed. “I’m not that fucking ridiculous.” I stared at him. “Never have I ever-” he bit his lip. “Been spanked, as an adult.” Thank goodness he added that in, because prior to his adulthood he’d no doubt worn a red ass as a constant. I drank, trying to take a smaller sip. Fuck, was one bottle empty already? And the other was surprisingly low. “Uh huh, drink it.” Shit. Fucker.

I swallowed the fully shot. Damn him. And his stupid fucking game. Wait, I picked this game, didn’t I? I was trying to think it through when he cleared this throat. “What?” I snapped, still picking through my memories of sitting down and this miserable game’s origin. I raised my eyes to his and he was smirking. “What?” I snapped again.

“Think you’re shitfaced, princess.” I glared. “Had a bit too much of your own medicine?”

“I’m not drunk.” I said, and I almost believed myself. “I’m NOT.” I admonished. And then I realized that he wasn't showing ANY of the signs of all the shots he’d taken. And he’d taken a fair few, but NOT nearly as many as me. “Never have I ever LIED during a game of ‘never have I ever’.” I glared at him as he started to laugh and took his own shot. Fucker. “You cheated.” I accused, feeling completely indignant that he’d dare to sully the sanctity of our game. I crossed my arms over my chest and sat there feeling so wronged.

“You are so fucking drunk, honey,” dimples and eyes fully loaded on this asshole across from me. “Think you should probably sleep that off.” I shot a look at his bed and felt my face flush. “Alone.” Ah, that’s unexpected.

“Fine.” I answered, standing up, and happy that I was more steady than my sluggish brain would have implied. “I’ll take the couch.” I hiccuped and sighed. Damn it. My wonderful plan, undone by this asshole.

Negan stood up, and took my arm. “Not fucking happening.” He walked me to the bed and pulled back the covers. “I may be a lot of fucking things, but I won’t let a lady take the couch.”

I rolled my eyes, and looked at the size of the bed. Thankful again that I wasn’t so drunk that I was seeing doubles. “Looks big enough to share, without touching.” I added, just to be clear.

He chuckled beside me. “Why, Miss Grimes, are you asking me to sleep with you?” I glared up at him, and he shocked me by brushing my hair out of my face. “Sleep. Sure.” And then he motioned to a door I hadn’t noticed. “Bathroom’s through there, if you need it.”

I did. I needed that bathroom more than I ever thought I’d need anything in my life. I rushed over and sighed at the sight of a toilet. I hadn’t realized just how badly I needed to go until he mentioned it. So closing the door behind me and rushing over, I took care of business. After I flushed, washed my hands, and took stock of myself in the mirror, I left the bathroom.

Negan was already in bed. His bed. And he was shirtless. And the sheets riding low enough to see that he had a happy trail low down on his stomach and my mouth went dry.  Shit. Who knew he looked like THAT under his clothes? Damn it. I shot a look at the couch.

“Evelyn.” Fuck, why hadn’t I noticed how deep his voice was? “Come to bed.” Shit. Why did that sound so fucking appealing?

I squared my shoulders and gave myself an internal pep talk. Reminding myself that I was Captain Evelyn Grimes, for fuck’s sake. I did NOT give in to my basic, primal urges anymore. Not on a whim. Not without thought and serious pro/con lists weighing the options. I kept the internal dialogue up until I reached the empty side of the bed, and kicked off my shoes to climb in.

“You’re not wearing all that shit to bed are you?” His damn voice drug me from my debate. “I’m not gonna make a fucking move, princess, I want you to be FULLY aware when we finally fuck.”

I raised an eyebrow, but shrugged at the fact that sleeping fully clothed when I had options was a stupid move. Comfort, especially after drinking around two fucking bottles of booze that I hated the taste of, would be key to waking up and not wanting to die in the morning light. Unbuttoning my jeans, I was unzipping the zipper when I heard him shift slightly on the bed. Looking up, I saw his eyes locked on my hand. Oh, so he wanted a show? I took my time lowering the zipper, biting my lip to keep from laughing when I saw his Adam’s apple bob from his swallow. I opened the sides, tugging first one side, then the other down my hips. Keeping my eyes on him, I shimmied out of them and was very happy that I’d worn the one pair of pretty panties that had been clean in my small pile of clothes. I was bent over, my loose v-neck t-shirt hanging open so he could have a nice view down into the v of my cleavage. I heard him swallow this time. Victory.

When I stood up, he’d pulled the blankets back further, keeping himself covered, but giving me ample room to climb into the bed. I cleared my throat and his eyes met mine. “Thank you.” I laid back on the pillow on the side of the bed he’d left for me. “Night, Negan.”

“Night, Evelyn.” His voice sounded as raw as my nerves felt. Fuck, thank God I’d drank my weight in shitty booze, I thought as the drink pulled me under to sleep. Otherwise, sleep would be the furthest from my mind.

[undercovermcdfan]

the calm before the storm | prologue 2

title: Vylad: 1:38 pm, Saturday

chapter summary: Vylad isn’t a fan of the waiting game.

a/n: it’s our trusty man of the hour, Vylad. Love this boy to pieces. Thankfully he won’t become pieces because he’s essential to the plot. *Finger guns* you might read some hints who might be showing up in the main series /eye emojis just a heads up. Also, this chapter took me five times to rewrite ;;

warning(s): mild violence, zombies, established relationships, mutual pining, character building

prologue: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 |

main series: —-

check it out on ao3

“Don’t worry. I’ll be out in a sec,” Laurance’s voice came, light and affectionate—strained as well, with the laughter of children in the background. “Make yourself comfortable. Sasha is working as receptionist today. Chat with her.”

Vylad sighed, throwing a side way glance at Sasha; the fair-haired receptionist gave sugary sweet fake smile with a wave of her impossibly long nails. “…Please hurry.”

Laurance laughed. “I love you too.”

Ending the call, his eyes connected with Sasha again. She dropped the smile, opting to obnoxiously pop her chewing gum his direction and sat forward. Her chin, propped by her hand, and cat-like amusement played as she narrowed her eyes.

“So… Scarf boy. Almost an hour and a half late to your date, huh,” Sasha called out to him, brow raised and judgement clear.

It wasn’t him to really butt heads with people; in life, those who were a pain, he simply left behind and carried on his way. Except, he couldn’t do much leaving behind and carrying on as he liked. Life tied down by a relationship warranted, at times, to be anchored by a person he much rather not see again—and though this was the first partnership he had where the seriousness they felt for each other didn’t allow for such easy deal breakers, Vylad could feel the bitterness sweep the moment Sasha was reminded as a force that existed and no way leaving his immediate circle he knew now as Laurance’s friends.

She’s like a sister to me, Laurance would say, waving off her biting statement with a laugh, she isn’t a peach but she’s reliable and smarter than she likes to lead on. Family, Sasha was—and with the weeks turned into months turned into moving in status, Vylad had to acknowledge she wasn’t going anywhere for a very long time.

He wasn’t honeyed delight himself, mind you, but Sasha’s unmoved personality and sharpen tongue left him eyeing the woman carefully in distaste. She wasn’t loud, but her statements always left a blow if you thought too personally about her opinions. Pushy, forward, and the worse of all, vindictive when she truly in the mood.

Like the boredom she was having at this moment.

Looking back, it’s bizarre to think how far they came but standing stagnant in their dynamic—and Travis always put it, yet containing this cat-and-mouse dynamic, stabilized normal after the end of the world was upon them. No, he wouldn’t say he hated her—too strong of a word, but a step down or two from that would summarize what he felt.

She smiled with her eyes, harpy as she was, wouldn’t let him back. “Are you gonna explain why? Or do I have to assume why?”

“Traffic. West side, near Meteli road—it’s blocked,” Vylad explained, “All that time you spend looking at your phone or other people’s business, I’d figured you would be on top of the news.”

She fell silent for a moment—but not long, certainly not long enough for Vylad to savor this small bit of peace. Her smile was wiry but the flash of anger was clear in her eyes; she didn’t enjoy people biting back, especially at her. “I don’t know why I expect you to say something, anything interesting and yet…” she sighed, shrugging her shoulders, “Laurance has to see something in you.”

And that was the end of the conversation.

He shot her an irate glare but decided not to ruin his already soured mood and opt to walk away to the seating area. If she been anybody else, he might’ve vented on his hour of being trapped in traffic. After all, today seemed to be a swarm of random riots—a peaceful march turned bloody, police handling it poorly and emotions running high with epidemic this, government conspiracies there. All he wanted was a nice meal from whatever ethnic culinarily exploration Laurance planned, taking advantage of the rec center’s vacancy today, and the two talking about their soon move-in to the new apartment, theorizing what Cadenza’s ‘shocking’ surprise was and convincing Laurance his cat wasn’t that bad. Well, maybe his cat was spawn of something of unholy but look past the claws and attitude, only love (and a hunger for quality food) held in the feline’s heart.

Approaching the seating area, he took opposite side from the people already hanging around. A couple sat in the normal seating, chatting amicably with a tall man who looked vaguely familiar.

Actually…

He recognized the woman within the trio, with her petite frame as she rested a hand on her slightly rounded belly and glowing expression framed by shorter, curly black hair—she was Aphmau. Laurance’s old college friend Aphmau to be exact. He knew of her, both from the framed pictures Laurance had in his apartment that featured his old friend group and Laurance’s gossipy can-you-believes that Vylad amusedly took note of. “She moved into the neighborhood recently” something something “Gotten pregnant, moved in with her long-term boyfriend” something something “Became one of those ‘end of the world’ is near nuts.”

Though glancing at her, she seemed not really like the doomsayers variety like seen on TV, who bought those obvious cash grabs preventive medication to defend against this so-called epidemic and cashing in ‘haven homes’ to the north.

Leaning into who Vylad assumed was her boyfriend (who had nothing really to note apart from he was… wearing sun glasses indoors), smiling brightly at the familiar white-haired man, she was excitable as she spoke but then again, wasn’t that with most conspiracies believers. Not looking the part until the topic was broached.

Truth be told, he understood bit of the anxiety people held; despite the entire parade their government kept up, you had to either be blind or chugging down the skepticism to not believe there was… something unsettling about this new pandemic sweeping across developing countries and edging their way into more industrially advanced nations. Zombies was a hot topic, people sharing shaky cams and leaking classified reports—and even if Laurance waved this off, saying if it was really that bad, the world would’ve been ravaged a year ago when the reports started coming in.

Did he agree with his boyfriend’s rebuffing the idea that the internet conspiracy junkies were right? No, not really.

But did he really buy it was as bad as said junkies were making it out to be? No, as well.

Vylad did suggest that maybe he and Laurance could spend part of the summer getting out of the city—to where, he hadn’t ironed out the details, but between the traffic-causing riots, the heightened state of stress and… nosy people being way too comfortable with barging in on their free time, frankly, anywhere was better than here.

But, looking in hindsight, he sometimes wished he thought more seriously about it. About convincing Laurance that what was happening—maybe they shouldn’t carry on their day and pay attention. Or maybe he wished he been thirty minutes, an hour, on time like he promised.

Anything to prevent the rude awakening of what happened next.

Zenix rushing in, telling Sasha to dial for the police and an ambulance, a dark stain on his gold jersey and jeans, and a bloody bat.

Aphmau’s boyfriend already on his feet and the other two, as well as himself, already on his feet.

“Vylad,” Zenix spotted him, but no arrogant smile or even a grimace—just an apprehensiveness expressed in his wide eyes, “I—“

“Is that blood? Where’s Laurance?” Vylad quickly made his way over, “Are you okay?”

“…well,” he gripped his bat, for a moment looking ashamed, “I don’t… I mean.” He heaved a sigh, nodded towards the hall that lead to the gymnasium, “He’s with the kids. I… I think you go—help him. He’s trying to hold it together but…”

Vylad hesitated, seeing the rattled state of Zenix—while not much younger than himself, still seen fondly as the ‘kid’ of their group; this was an unusual sight of Zenix’s more subdued state left knot twisted up in his stomach—squeezing his shoulder, he left in the direction of the gymnasium. Behind him, he could hear a deep voice grunt, “Travis go.” and, who assumed was Travis, sputtering but meekly agreed.

Vylad glanced back, sighing but he supposed if something happened, help was appreciated.

.

.

He wasn’t sure what he was prepared for, but it wasn’t for this.

Pushing open the heavy gym door, he’s hit with something rancid and awful—was something rotting.

Then he saw the body.

A rotund man, face down; he was barely clothed with torn up, dirty white wife-beater and underpants, skin dull and a paper cutter imbedded in his neck. His head, busted up and where the pool of oozing, brown liquid too dark and unhuman to be called blood.

Unmoving.

Vylad felt bile raise—and behind him, the man who followed him named Travis made a retching sound.

His eyes darted around. Whimpering, he heard whimpering—and guessing from where the footprints lead, one which went towards the locker room while the other went out the doors, he started to approach the locker room off to his left. Vylad glanced back for a moment towards Travis, who looked an image of panic and a second away from succumbing to sickness. “Hey…” Travis said, softly, as he hung back a couple steps behind, “U-Uh, Vylad was it?”

He nodded, reaching for the door—Travis grabbed at his shoulder, holding up a hand.

“Do you think this is a good idea?”

His brow furrowed, squinting.

“I mean—you… uh… you know what that body is, right? There’s a dead person just,” Travis heaved a sighed, quickly taking back his hand as Vylad’s squint turned into a glare, “We should call out first. Just in case.”

“…” he turned to the door, banging his fist against, as he called out: “Laurance? Are you in there? It’s me,” he twisted the door knob, “I’m opening the door.”

He felt breathe seized; like Zenix, Laurance was drenched in the dark blood. A child softly cried, as Laurance gingerly had his hand pressed against the child’s arm with a small towel. The other children huddled by the door, one clutching a bat—a little boy, with curly, mousy brown hair and looked a little too young to be here alone. Beside him, a tanned boy with curly brown who looked older and had a hand on his shoulder—there was two more beside him, a girl with dirty blond hair pulled into a pony tail, a small boy with light blond hair and blue eyes that vaguely reminded Vylad of his older brother, and lastly another boy who leaned on the heavy-set side, who stepped in front of the blond boy and girl.

Laurance gave him a single nod, a pensive expression on his face. Sandwiched between his shoulder and ear, the phone was there, and a female voice squeaked on the other side.

“Yes, I’m still here—uh, I’ll try contacting the child’s guardians, again,” Laurance said, his voice even tone and professional. The voice squeaked again. “I know. I was told that both were at home, Dale, their father, was taking care of his wife, Molly?” The voice gave a questioning tone. “Fever? They said she couldn’t even get out of bed. A bad cut—“

The heavy set boy spoke up, “A bite. A crazy man bit her last night.”

“Uh, correction. A bite.”

There’s a pause. Then the voice asked another question.

“Since eleven?” Laurance furrowed his brows, glancing at Vylad who stepped closer. Vylad whispered to Laurance a “I got this”, pressing his hand onto the wound, allowing Laurance to focus on the phone call.

“…I… I don’t have an address—hey, are you sending an ambulance or not?” Laurance said hotly, pacing away as he disappeared into an office.

Vylad took a chance to studied the kid—brown hair as well, though his dark eyes were unfocused and his face shined under the lighting. Vylad frowned, pitying the young boy—he barely looked older than twelve, yet… not much fear or worry shown on his face. If anything, he looked drained. “Hello,” Vylad quietly began, noting in the background he could hear Laurance rummaging around for something in the office while Travis took up conversing with the children by the wall, “Could I get a name? I’m Vylad, Laurance’s… partner.”

The child flashed him a confused look. But didn’t question him, instead opting to answer, “Brian. And I know you—you’re the guy on Mister Zvahl’s phone, right?”

Vylad smiled a little at that, nodding.

“Huh,” Brian gave him a look over, twisting his mouth. “You’re short.”

Vylad shrugged. “It runs in my family. My brothers were lucky, but… somebody had to miss out,” he glanced over his shoulder, “So… I’m guessing that’s your brothers and sister?”

Brian nodded. “Alexis is my sister… Kyle, Levin and Malachi, um, are kinda?” He shrugged, “They live with us and it’s pretty nice. Malachi is five, so is Levin.”

“And Kyle?”

“Six. He’s older than Alexis by a month,” Brian gave a soft smile, glancing at his hand wrapped in a towel. “He’s bit of a knucklehead but really cool.”

Vylad hummed. He was about to ask another question when Travis walked up to him, tapping his shoulder.

“Dude,” he said. “Do you think I could borrow your phone? I need to call… a friend.”

Vylad shot him a look. But the desperation was clear, so Vylad sighed, nodding to his hoodie’s pocket.

Travis stepped a little bit away, giving himself privacy as he said in a soft voice, “Pick up Katie… pick up…”

“Vylad?” Brian asked in a low voice, hesitating before staring directly in his eyes, “I have a question.”

Vylad hummed in acknowledge, giving the small boy a smile.

“I starting to feel… sick. Um,” Brian glanced at his wound worriedly, “I heard on the news people die from these sorts of bites. Get really sick and die.”

Vylad opened his mouth, then shut it. Brian continued, prying Vylad’s hands away as he pulled the towel from the wound— a gnarly bite that had darken skin around it. “Mister Zvahl tried to help,” he softly said, “but the man… he bit me.”

Vylad, in that moment, then wished he had Laurance’s zealous disbelief towards the epidemic. That he could easily tell the boy not to worry, that once the ambulance got there, he’ll be taken care of.

It wasn’t… a moment he was proud of. A child, looking him in the eyes, despite the boy registered the mortality that might be occurring, still had hope for reassuration.

Vylad pressed the towel back onto the wound, gave a weak smile.

Laurance, thankfully, came back at that point—armed with a meager first aid kit and phone put away, he patted Brian’s head and told him everything was going to be okay.

But the boy knew it wasn’t.

Vylad knew it wasn’t.

Asking for his phone from Travis after he gave up on contacting ‘Katie’, decided it was time to call a familiar number—a red-headed girl, with a bright smile and blue eyes appeared as it dialed up.

“Hello? Vylad?”

“Cadenza,” Vylad said, calmly, “Are you at home?”

“Nope. I’m actually kinda busy right now,” there’s a muffled voice, then Cadenza laughed. “Do you think… you can call back in an hour?”

“I… Cadenza something happened at the rec center.”

He got her attention. “Did something happened to Laurance? Was there an accident.”

“A dead body. I don’t… have all the details but… I think you should get home. Right now. Once the police get here, I’m going to try to get Laurance to your house. Is Lucinda home?”

“Yeah. She took the day off—getting her hair done up later for tonight’s dinner…”

“Good. Get home as soon as you can. We might need to cancel dinner tonight.”

Cadenza made a confused noise, but resigned, she said, “We’ll see. Though traffic isn’t going to be merciful, ha.”

He couldn’t share her laugh. Instead, he gave a sigh, giving her a soft goodbye as he ended the call.

It would be later, years later in fact, where Cadenza would joke no matter how annoyed she felt at the call—partly because of Vylad’s vagueness on Laurance and what happened at the rec, partly because of other reasons—she happy she headed her brother-in-law’s pushy suggestion. Even though it was Aphmau and Laurance’s leaderships that’ll lead to their safety, this gut-reaction to make this call…

Safe to say, it was the right one to make.

He turned back to the Travis, Laurance, the kids— the smallest boy, Malachi, eyed him curiously. Vylad gave him a small smile. Brightly, the six year old returned it.

[gutterballgt]

@susan-25 said (for the drabbles prompt): Love me love me love me!!!!!

Leave a “Love Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a fluffy drabble about two (or more) characters.

Your wish... is my command! I mean... in my day, drabbles were 100 words, no more and no less. But screw that. We want fluff, dammit!

When the (possibly radioactive) dust settled and everyone finally got out of medical -- well, not Stacker; the brush with a nuke had a weird effect on the cancer already brewing, and the doctors couldn't figure out if it had helped or hurt -- Chuck found himself at loose ends for the first time in his life. Well, for the first time in memory, anyway.

Just... he'd always had The Next Thing to do. The next repair on Striker. The next kaiju alarm. The next fight with his old man. The next game of catch with Max. The next food fight to start with the Weis.

Not that the Weis were up for a food fight these days. They were all out of medical, but there was oh, so much physical therapy to be done before the wankers had that much mobility.

Anyway, Chuck Hansen was a doer, not a sit-and-think-about-things-er. If he was honest -- and he was trying to be now that there was nothing but time to regret the ignorant shite he tended to spout in anger -- he was... bored.

And more than a little scared.

What the hell did people... just... do? For the rest of their lives?

Oddly enough, on his worst possible day, just when he'd given up trying to soul-search and decided to punch the big bag until all the sand fell out, Raleigh Has-Been Becket showed up. With a vengeance.

Suddenly, there weren't enough hours in the day. Chuck had a sneaking suspicion it all started with a prompt from Herc, but it wasn't long -- a week; a month, tops -- before Chuck didn't care. He was having too much fun.

They hit the mainland almost every day for take-out or to watch new buildings go up on the bones of the old or, once, to take one of the junks out to the islands for an honest-to-fuck picnic. The silly bloke said it was up to their teamwork that the traditional boats were out again for the first time in a decade, so they ought to be one of the first to enjoy them. With that rationale, Chuck was hard-pressed to argue and found himself, for the first time in his life, kicking back with a gentle breeze in his face, lulled by the subtle rocking of the junk, idly watching their particular island draw closer with no urgency to get to The Next Thing.

Admittedly, The Next Thing this time was a frankly embarrassing array of foods that Raleigh had insisted on cramming into a massive picnic basket he'd haggled off a street vendor. It's nostalgia, Chuck, the silly sod insisted. It's not a picnic without a basket.

Again, Chuck had been hard-pressed to argue. He was having too damn much fun.

It had been a damn long time since "fun" was in his vocabulary.

And then, there were movie nights. Sometimes just the two of them, sometimes everyone still mobile. Sometimes with pizza or Chinese food, sometimes just with popcorn and beer. Sometimes comedies, sometimes action flicks, and just the once... a romance.

He couldn't remember what it was called, but Raleigh said it was based on an old book, it was long as hell but seemed to go ridiculously fast, and Mako (and, weirdly, Herc) fucking loved it. Chuck had to admit that the oppressive atmosphere while the naive young governess discovered that the evil in the attic wasn't anything supernatural but just her cranky boss' addled wife was impressive. And he pretended not to see Herc wipe his eyes during the governess' flashbacks of her brief love affair with the cranky boss.

In fact, he rather understood. The poor sheila just wanted, for once, to be seen as an equal. To not be a drudge or a colorless creature to be pitied or ignored or looked down on. Of course her memories of the one person who treated her like a human being would be full of pain and longing.

Dammit.

Because there was a downside to all the fun and running about. Raleigh, that giant wanker of a has-been, would probably never know, but Chuck had come to... depend on it. Like it. Love it, even.

And at any moment, it could just... stop.

He didn't want it to stop.

"C'mon, Chuck." A foot nudged him under the rather sticky table. "You've been brooding all day. Out with it."

They were at some rank-looking hole-in-the-wall, eating mouth-watering Indian food that would taste like heaven if Chuck could manage to eat a bite. He'd never know how Raleigh kept finding these places, but he wasn't exactly complaining.

This time, though....

Sighing, he shrugged with an elbow on the table and his cheek leaning on his fist, toying his fork through his butter chicken sauce.

"Chuck. Seriously. Do you not like the naan or something?"

Another shrug. He couldn't stop thinking about how echoey and heart-wrenching the poor girl's sobs were as she fully remembered all she had left behind, all she felt she couldn't have.

He could relate to that last bit.

"Hey, c'mon. You're starting to worry me. There's still food on the table."

That got at least one side of his mouth to twitch in a half-ass grin, and he put down his fork to sit up a bit straighter. "Dread days, indeed."

But Raleigh finally cracked a smile, which never failed to lift Chuck's spirits.

Dammit.

"So lay it out for me. What's going on in that complicated head of yours?"

Nope. Not for all the Indian food in Hong Kong.

"Chuck."

Never.

"Chuuuuuuuuuuck."

Goddammit, Raleigh.

"Chuck chuck chuck chuck chuck chuck chuck ch--"

"Do you think you could ever love me?"

What. The. Fuck.

Appalled at himself, he slapped both palms on the table, sitting stick straight in the creaky chair, eyes wide and jaw clenched tight, ready to leave at the first hint of a punch. Raleigh stared at him, those crazy blue eyes at least as wide as his own. For a breathless eternity, neither of them dared to breathe.

Then... Raleigh sighed.

Oh, fuck. Oh shit oh fuck.

"Got some bad news for you, kid."

Oh, fuck, Raleigh was straight, or the gorgeous wanker remembered all too well how big an asshole Chuck had been at first, or... fuck, Chuck was just plain unloveable.

Why the fuck did he say anything? He should've just--

"It's too late."

--kept his big, stupid, impulsive mouth shu--

...what?

He blinked, then focused on the menace to his sanity that had become such a huge part of his every day. The menace who was currently smiling softly, those blue eyes warm and soft.

"I already love you, ya big jerk." A snort. "I mean, I thought that was obvious. I found us a picnic basket, Chuck." A nudge under the table. "In Hong Kong."

Oddly appalled, he pointed accusingly at the wanker. "You fucking ratbag! Why the fuck didn't you say anything?"

Blue eyes rolled, and the irritating bloke lightly kicked him under the table. "Yes, because you're so warm and cuddly and welcoming, Chuck."

He opened his mouth to protest.

"Outside of naptime."

He closed his mouth, then shrugged. "That's fair."

He wouldn't trade naptime-in-a-pile for anything in the world. Max would never forgive him for the sudden lack of cuddles from two of his three favorite people.

But he couldn't hold the grin back anymore. "So... you really love me?"

Unfortunately, though the smile remained, the bloke suddenly looked a bit... fidgety. "Mm-hm."

Frowning, he leaned forward over his plate, which suddenly smelled almost irresistible, though he'd never been further from eating in his life. "Oi, Raleigh... mate, what's wrong?"

"Nothing." Okay, that was definitely not Raleigh's warm, bright smile. "My tandoori chicken's a little dry, is all."

And that was patently untrue. The chicken was juicy and fucking delightful. Raleigh had offered him a piece earlier and -- oh, shit.

Here, Raleigh had been making all the gestures and had just said--

"I love a man who can't lie for shit."

Oh. Well. Not how he'd meant to say it, but dammit, he couldn't leave the bloke hanging like that. Chuck really wasn't the most approachable guy on the best of days, but Raleigh had told him he loved him anyway, and Chuck hadn't reciprocated, and dammit, that was just fucking rude.

Chuck Hansen had always been and would always be a jerk, but damn if he'd be rude to the man he loved.

Plus, the stupid blurt was worth it for the slight perking up hidden behind narrowing eyes on the silly bloke's face. "I'm not sure if I should be offended or not."

Blushing a bit, he shrugged and prodded his chicken with his fork. "Offended because I love you or offended because you can't lie for shit?"

Aaaannnnd there was the bright, happy, doofus grin he'd fight another kaiju just to see. "Offended because you can't tell me you love me without an insult for good measure."

Jesus, the butter chicken was fucking fantastic. And because he wasn't a goddamn grunt, he chewed fully and swallowed before responding.

"But you love me anyway."

It wasn't a question. He absolutely was not holding his breath whilst waiting for an answer.

Thankfully, Raleigh was a good bloke and didn't leave him in agony. "Yeah, yeah. I'm a glutton for punishment."

Relieved but hiding it, he pointed with his fork. "And that, mate, explains your whole goddamn life."

Snickering, the silly sod shook his head. "Can't even argue." The pretty wanker took a slow, savoring bite of his tandoori chicken. Then: "So... are we both okay with this?"

As if it was even a question. "More than."

"So we can start making out in the evening?"

He did not waggle his eyebrows. He didn't. He just... had an itch on his forehead and his hands were full. "Why wait for evening?"

Luckily, the bloke didn't take him up on the half-assed offer but just shook his head. "I really am a glutton for punishment." But the smile came back, slow and warm and fond. "Guess I picked the right guy to fall for."

This time, he actually managed to not waggle his eyebrows, though he nearly got butter sauce on his shirt as he leaned over the table again. "I'll punish you all you want, love."

One eyebrow rose, and Chuck blushed and sat back in his seat.

"Sounded better in my head."

The wanker nudged his foot under the table again. "I didn't say I wasn't into it."

A chunk of chicken sucked back into his throat, and he choked, eyes watering and fist thumping himself on the chest. Raleigh, that rotten sod, just grinned and watched, unconcerned.

Weak, he swigged water, gasping between gulps. "You'll be the death of me, ya wanker."

"Oh, no." That smile was positively evil. "I'm not done with you yet."

He blinked, then practically inhaled the rest of his excellent meal, then hurried through Raleigh's leftovers, too. He had better things to do than eat. In public. With clothes on.

And maybe, if he was lucky, after he got lucky, they'd watch that movie again. He doubted he'd puddle up at the sad part this time.

He might, though, when that final family portrait was being painted of the governess and her cranky boss husband and their huge, happy family.

Yeah, he might cry a bit, then.

He couldn't wait.

THE END

[abakersquest]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN – RED SAILS BEST FORGOTTEN

According to Captain Blackeye, the Lunar Swell shaved four days off the six it would’ve taken to get to Galaga Island, affording them all two days to come to know one another better. On the first night, the meeting in the small dining room just below deck was a cramped and stilted experience until Wally set to work in the galley. As he found the space just the right size for him to work, he concluded it was Polly who prepared any of the captain’s meals, as imagining the bulky frame of the great commander of the sea doing anything in the small kitchen was far too hilarious to have ever actually happened.

The smell of whatever Wally happened to be cooking put everyone at ease enough to turn the atmosphere from confined into cozy. When the meal was finally placed before them, they all ate as if food was a long forgotten concept.

“Mm! Wally! What is this?!” Rozzi said as she hurriedly swallowed another mouthful.

“Well the galley’s storage didn’t exactly have a lot of variety, a number of drie goods and cured meats and a few containers with rice and spices… So I threw together an Icthyite recipe I knew with some of the vegetables I picked up at Areca. I mixed some potash into Wistea’s, extra salt for the Captain and Polly, a touch more meat in Hector’s, and a bit of bitter fruit in yours because Cri’tet told me you enjoyed that sort of thing.”

Blackeye savored his last bite quite audibly before speaking in an awestruck tone, “By the currents lad, if you’re this talented with a pot and pan, why on Mondia d’ya stick with makin’ cakes?”

Wally finished serving himself and sat at the table with everyone. “Well, aside from more personal reasons, there were dozens of cooks in Animana, but bakers were in short supply. After the war, everyone got used to making their own bread which, anyone will tell you, is the mainstay of any baker. So it was a difficult business, one where you had to be creative to survive. Everything about it appealed to me and the rest was just leading up to that.”

Polly attempted to speak in an ancient language that had never been deciphered, as it required the speaker to almost choke on the food filling their mouth at the time. As was always the case with innovators in said language, only a few garbled noises escaped before the food won out and made a direct charge on the throat. She beat on her chest to force down the mass of chewed rice, meat, and vegetables before it finally plopped into her belly.

“Chew then talk, sunshine.” Captain Blackeye nudged Polly’s drink toward her, which she happily gulped down to ease her throat.

“Captain,” began Hector. “I’ve been meaning to ask… A ship this size would need at least ten hands to manage. Even if you could do the work of five sailors, that’s still five short. What happened to your crew?”

“Gone on to betta things I bet. Told them I’d wait for the swell and sent’em off. That’s the way for us at sea. We drift on as the currents guide, maybe we run into each other on the way. But, some just stick with you… S’how I ended up with this little one here.” Blackeye patted his granddaughter on the head. “No doubt it’s clear she ain’t exactly the spittin’ image of this old fish. Her mam was a member of my crew ‘til she passed. She always had the habit to call me ‘pappy’ and it just kinda stuck, loved her the way father’s do and came time to deal with this one, I was happy to do it.”

“Mam was the ship’s navigator, so I do that now.” Polly said proudly.

“If I may also ask a question,” remarked Wistea. “How is it we were able to reach the top of the swell? I honestly felt as if we were going to tumble back into the ocean for a moment there.”

“Aha, that’s our Kettle Engine! Y’no doubt done seen the big metal bits ‘round the stern, yeah? That’s where the steam builds up from the boiler just under the galley. You take in sea water; boil it up ‘til y’get steam, then throw the switch by the wheel and OFF YA GO! Got it years back from a fella from Insicai named Rollo.”

Wistea suddenly sat a little straighter. “… I know I really should not be surprised to hear when one storied individual meets another but… You actually MET Rollo Poda, the so-called ‘Shining Star’ of Insicai?”

“Met ‘im? I carted him around Mondia for a year after the war was over. Said he was looking for something, didn’t tell me what ever. But he was a brave sort, liked him plenty, so I helped him out. Plus, I got to see some pretty amazing things on the way and he gave me the Kettle Engine as a gift. The God’s Fortune was already the fastest thing on any waters, that just made it even faster!”

“May I… See the boiler?” Wistea could barely contain her excitement.

Blackeye looked to Polly who happily hopped onto her feet and gestured to Wistea to follow. Her chair nearly toppled as she sprung from it and squeezed past everyone.

“Guess Poda was a big deal,” Wally concluded as he finished off his plate and set about cleaning the table. “Mind you the curiosity’s infectious now... I’ve been meaning to ask how you knew I used Fire magic.”

“You smelled like you’d been inside a furnace.”

Wally recalled being the center of a massive geyser of flame a few days earlier. “You could call what I did that…”

“Eh? Not that! I can tell that happened days ago… All magic usin’ folk got a smell to ‘em.” He gestures his fork at Rozzi. “She smells like a breeze o’ spring so she got Air magic.” He points to Hector. “This one’s a fresh rain, Storm magic. Your greenie friend smells like a mess’a flowers, Forest magic.”

Hector sat back. “Blimey, and I thought my nose was sharp.”

“Aaah, you’ll get there someday! Years of practice iz’all.”

“So you’ve met other people with Fire magic who had the power of insight?”

“All them magics come with lil’ extras y’never notice until you do. Fire folk shine their light on the absolute truth. Air folk are agile as leaves on wind. Storms c’n move faster than a blink when they want, Forests live long and hold onto memory like steel traps.”

“What about the others?” Rozzi said as she leaned in.

Blackeye grumbled a bit before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head. “Ain’t gonna tell ya.”

“What? Why?!”

He chuckled quietly. “Where’s the fun in me tellin’ ya? Ain’t an adventure iffin’ I just toldja everythin’, eh? We meet some, then I’ll tell ya.”

Hector sat up, his tone serious. “Captain, Sir, I mean no offense but this is hardly an ‘adventure’. This is-”

Wally held up his hand, cutting Hector off. “He’s not going to tell us, Hector. His mind’s made up… We’ll be thinking on the fly half the time anyway, so better he tell us when we need to know it most.”

Hector stared at Wally for a moment before finally relaxing in his seat and going back to his meal, replying between mouthfuls, “Alright… But I don’t have to like it…”

---

A day away from port, the towering mass of water that carried them over the great expanse of ocean finally began to shrink, just as the captain had predicted. As the swell calmed, Blackeye saw fit to salute its passing and thanked it for the comfortable ride. Soon, when the sun rose to midday, Wally found himself looking out over the water again, but not in calm reflection. Something in the back of his mind raised a flag of caution that he couldn’t ignore. His legs felt tight and ready to hop, and his ears danced back and forth in search of something he couldn’t quite place. He approached Captain Blackeye slowly as the question he wanted to ask finally took shape. “Captain… Is it normal for there to be no other ships in sight this close to a major port?”

“The Lunar Swell ain’t exactly part of the normal ‘round these waters, but you’re right to worry. Gettin’ stiff gills I am, even if the waters got choppier than they’d ever been, there’s a few hard barnacles who’d sail out regardless. Should’ve seen one by now.”

“CAPTAIN!” shouted Polly from the crow’s nest. “THREE SHIPS! AHEAD STARBOARD! NO FLAGS!”

Wally and Blackeye turned their eyes and found the three vessels as barely dots in the distance. The reveal did nothing to alleviate Wally’s tension, in fact it only increased. “Something’s… Wrong.”

“Aye lad, don’t need your insight t’ know that. KEEP EYES ON ‘EM POLLY!”

“AYE CAP’N!”

“Mister Walter, take Mister Cani down to the Gun Deck and load starboard cannons, Proper knight like him knows how. MISS ORLAND! MISS FABOI! BE READY TO REPEL BOARDERS!”

Wally and Hector quickly rushed down to the gun deck, a small space with only four low caliber cannons, the kind best suited to a ship built for speed and agility over offense. Hector quickly walked Wally through the loading of one so he could move on to the other. As with everything he’d taught him, Wally caught on quickly and moved efficiently. He wondered for a second or two if that was the hard working kitchen boy in him or the knight he’d been fostering, and if their was even a difference anymore.

On deck, Rozzi kept her eyes on the approaching ships and her hand wrapped tightly around the grip of her sickle as Wistea questioned the Captain.

“So are they pirates? Corsairs? Privateers?”

“Pretty sure those are all the same thing, Wistea!” called out Rozzi.

“Preposterous! Why have different words for them then?”

“Greenie…” The captain almost growled. “They all the same when they tryin’ to cut your head off.”

Wistea instinctively reached for her neck and swallowed hard. “U-understood, Captain.”

Blackeye reached over the wheel to its pedestal, lifting up the brass cap there, revealing one end of a voice pipe. “You boys ready down there?”

Hector and Wally quickly searched the room for the source of the captain’s voice, finding the other end of the voice pipe at the far end of the gun deck.

“Aye sir!” called out Wally. “Just one question, who’re we even shooting at?”

“Hopefully no one,” replied Blackeye. “Defensive stance’s ‘til we know better.” Blackeye pressed on the center of the ship’s wheel, locking it in place. He headed into his cabin and from the wall pulled down his harpoon. It thrummed ever so slightly as he held it in his hands, its silvery sheen masking its age and exposing its mystical nature. A round dark blue gem seated in the foreshaft below the harpoon’s head flashed briefly as he gripped it. He then slid it into the slots stitched into the back of his vest and headed back outside, pulling the wheel lock out. He exhaled slowly as he took a loose grip of the wheel and allowed the rudder to drift slightly as he closed his eyes to focus his thoughts.

In his mind formed an image of a flat and endless ocean, in the distance; vague silhouettes of the approaching vessels appeared. The illusory ships caused the imagined water around them to ripple. Suddenly the ripples formed into waves and Blackeye quickly snapped back to reality and drew his harpoon. With the quick upward motion of it, a geyser of water rose beside the ship, and just as the sound of an approaching cannon ball reached the ears of those on deck, the geyser readily intercepted the shot, throwing it entirely off course and plopping it in the ship’s wake.

“Bilge drinkin’ scallops think they c’n take ol’ Blackeye from that far out… HAH!” the Captain thrust his harpoon in the direction of the ships and a sizable swell rushed toward them, forcing the ships off course and throwing off the following volley of shots just as they fired. “HANG ON LADIES, WE’RE MOVIN’ IN!” Blackeye spun the wheel hard and the ship took a sharp turn, now quickly moving toward the opposing vessels. “LET’S SEE YOU FIND YOUR RANGE NOW!”

Cannon shots flew over and beside the God’s Fortune as it charged toward the enemy flotilla with great speed. Blackeye called down through the voice pipe. “READY TO FIRE, STARBOARD SIDE!”

With the gunlock lanyards in hand, Wally and Hector readied themselves for the force and noise of the firing to come.

The God’s Fortune raced up to the ship furthest to the left of the formation, putting its broadside squarely in the cannon’s crosshairs. For barely a second, Blackeye’s senses picked up on something that made no clear sense; he quickly ignored it and shouted, “FIRE!”

The small cannons roared without fail, punting their ammunition into the hull of the enemy ship. Blackeye turned the Fortune for another pass as a bizarre sound drowned out all others. The air around the struck vessel began to shatter like heated glass and explode into a shower of what could only be called dark light. When the paradoxical cloud of non-light faded, beneath it was the rotted remains of a sailing ship. The wood was black and soaked, massive gaps filled with wriggling tangible darkness dotted the whole structure, and the sails were a tattered and stained mess of red cloth with a barely visible sickle of silver across their surface. On deck, the once barely visible figures of sailors became clear. To those aboard the Fortune there was no doubt, before them was a ghost ship, crewed by the dead.

The visibly damaged, waterlogged, and slightly bloated corpses of Icthyite sailors shuffled aboard the now exposed enemy ship, still working their stations long after life had left them. Rozzi could almost make out the sounds of their gurgling, raspy voices shouting out the Fortune’s position to whoever captained the ship.

The captain snorted scoffingly. “Isto the Red’s fleet… Back from the abyss. I’LL BE HAPPY TO SEND YOU ROTTING SCOUNDRELS BACK TO IT! WALTER, CANI, BACK ON DECK, CANNONS ARE NO GOOD HERE!”

The two other ships in the enemy flotilla dropped their illusions with as much fanfare as the first, repositioning themselves to assail the Fortune. As the ships turned, a figure was revealed on the largest of the three, positioned in the middle of the formation. Standing on the very end of the ship’s spar was the Ragged Rogue, his sickening and muffled laugh somehow crossing the distance. Rozzi grit her teeth to force down the feelings of panic that jolted up her spine, driving her mind to focus on the now and not her prior encounter with the otherworldly monster. As she did, she noticed something out of place.

The Rogue seemed larger somehow, and less patchwork. She wondered if it meant he was stronger than he’d been, and if so, were all of Kota’s Generals growing in strength?

Wally and Hector arrived on the deck just as the opposing flotilla had adjusted course.

“So its Ghost Ships now…” growled Hector.

“Aye, not my first either.” replied Blackeye who’d turned to face them. His attention quickly focused on Wally, who’d brought a barrel filled with cannon balls with him. “What’s that all for?”

“Well, I had a thought. Since we can enchant our weapons with magic, I wondered if one could do that with anything, in this case the cannons. Hector said yes, but there were two problems, One I’d only be enchanting the cannon, not the balls themselves, and two the more you use a weapon the more of your magic it can handle.” Wally set the barrel down with a considerable thud. “So I wouldn’t be able to enchant the cannon balls as much as the Flare. Therefore we make up for power with numbers!”

It was then Blackeye realized that Wally had easily carried a barrel full of cannon balls up from the gun deck without a drop of exhaustion or strain to show for it. “Just… how d’ya plan on doin’ that?”

Wally easily scooped up two cannon balls, one to each hand, and hopped up on the ship’s railing. Using his tail to keep himself steady against the rolling of the waves, he carefully gauged the distance between the leading ship and himself, and reared back his right arm. The ball was then engulfed in bright magical flame, gleaming like it’d just come from a blacksmith’s furnace. Wally then pitched it as hard as he could, striking the enemy ship across the bow with a powerful explosion of fire, shaking the entire ship from stem to stern.

“BY THE EASTERN GALES!” Blackeye watched in awe as the mystic fire danced across the old and seawater drenched wood of the ghost ship, spreading unimpeded until the waves coming off the keel doused them. “You pitched that faster than any cannon I ever seen! How in the world d’ya pack that much power in such a small body?”

Wally shrugged as he tossed the other cannon ball to his right hand and pitched it, blowing another burning hole in the nearest ship.

The captain laughed triumphantly. “RIGHT! Mister Walter to the foredeck! The rest of ya cover ‘im! WE’RE TAKIN’ THESE LOT HEAD ON!” He steered the ship hard to port to take them back toward the flotilla.

Wally hopped down, hefted the barrel and rushed to his place flanked by Hector, Wistea and Rozzi when he finally caught sight of the Rogue. Without a second thought he plopped the barrel down, picked up another ball and pitched it directly at the rag monster only to see the ball cleaved to pieces mid-flight, falling to the sides of the targeted vessel. Daylight glimmering on their narrow surfaces revealed the cause, thin snaking threads from the Rogue’s body.

“Of course,” muttered Wally angrily before a flash of inspiration overrode his frustration. “Rozzi! Come here, I have an idea.” Rozzi approached as he held up a cannon ball. “Now see if you can put your magic in while I do…”

Rozzi’s smile was almost devious as she happily placed her hand atop the ball. The sensation was an odd one as their magics intermingled within the heavy mass of iron, causing it to vibrate slightly. Briefly the two of them felt as if their hearts were somehow seated next to each other in their chest. Instead of mystic flames, what coated the ball was more of a halo of bright light that flickered like candle light over its surface. Wally pitched it at Kota’s General where, in mid-flight, it exploded into the form of a whirling tornado of flames that wildly veered off course and bashed into the vessel left of its intended target.

However, the force of the blast was enough to blow the keel clean off the ship. Dark tendrils desperately grasped at splintering, burning wood as seawater rushed in and began to drag the damaged ship back down to where it belonged.

The Rogue reached his hand out to the sinking vessel and the barely visible threads from his body yanked up several decaying sailors and flung them like violent marionettes at the Fortune.

“POLLY! JUMP DOWN!” Shouted Blackeye.

The young Icthyite girl quickly dove from the crow’s nest just as a strung along carcass crashed into it and shook the foremast. The captain caught her easily, setting her down on her feet. “Stay by me sunshine, things are gettin’ ugly.”

She nodded and gripped the hilt of her small dagger as she watched the other corpses slap hard onto the deck and railings. The undead sailors moved slowly at first, their rotten muscles yanking on the bones they barely held as they sloshed about in search of targets.

Immediately, Wistea whipped one off the ships railing before it could climb up, the sound of her vine striking it down almost a cue for all the others to mobilize. Wally kept throwing cannon balls at the flotilla, hoping to prevent the two remaining ships from firing anything else as Hector, Rozzi and Wistea moved to block for him. Hector parted one of the ghastly assailants clean down the middle, sparks racing out from where he struck, only to have both halves topple to the ground while still grabbing and flailing at him. “DAMN! Cutting them doesn’t work! Improvise!”

Rozzi smirked. “I got an idea! Wistea, can you try and herd them together?”

“Umm… OH! Yes! I can!” Wistea tapped her hand to the deck, a flash of green light sliding outward from her touch, followed by rapid shoots of bamboo instantly growing at bizarre angles, slamming into the befouled sailors and forcing them to cluster.

Rozzi quickly took up some spare rope from the deck and dashed around the amassed undead, wrapping it around them tightly before she handed the far end to Wally. “Flick of the wrist if you wouldn’t mind, dear.”

Wally looked at the rope and the struggling monstrosities before easily understanding her plan. Taking up as much of the slack as he could around his forearm, he dragged them off their rotting feet and into a spin. The disgusting mass rotated faster and faster over their heads before, with the suggested wrist flick, Wally flung the whole decomposing mess off into the mast of the second enemy ship, demolishing it and part of its deck as well.

Any possible celebration at the minor victories thus far faded from thought as the Ragged Rogue began to laugh once more. The sickly unnerving sound drew everyone’s attention, toward the general, still on his perch. “FLAREBEARER! I SEE YOU’RE FINALLY LIVING UP TO THE TITLE! WHICH IS WHY WE WILL SHOW YOU NO QUARTER!”

Everyone readied themselves for whatever could come, but it was Captain Blackeye to make the first move, slashing his harpoon in the direction of the ship’s aft, summoning a wall of water to block an almost unexpected barrage of cannon fire, two shots were stopped dead by the mystically aided water but a third slipped past and rocketed toward the deck where Wally leapt up to intercept, hooking his foot around it and kicking it away from the ship.

From behind the wall of water three more ghost ships appeared, approaching the battle rapidly.

Blackeye growled quietly, he hated running from a fight, but he could always see one he couldn’t win without losing more than he’d like. “MISTER WALTER!” He waved Wally in close and spoke quietly. “Whip us a distraction if y’can, we’re leavin’ in a big hurry.”

Wally nodded and spread the word quietly to everyone else who moved into position. The wallaby himself stood in the center of the deck and drew the Stellar Flare. “… Right, this should work…” He held the sword high above his head and took a deep breath. “EIGHT GODS INTO ONE MOMENT, FROM MY SOUL INTO THE WORLD! DRAGON’S CALDERA!”

From the blade sprung a spire of fire that rose into the air above the God’s Fortune and blossomed outward like an infernal fountain, cascading around the ship to flash boil the seawater beneath it creating a rapidly expanding fog of steam.

There was the sound of cannon fire, and old ships creaking before a piercing whistle and a rapidly accelerating God’s Fortune raced out of the handmade cloud, rocketing away from the deadly melee.

The Ragged Rogue shouted, “YOU USELESS UNDEAD SCUM! TURN THE SHIP! GET US OUT OF THIS FOG!”

The ships all groaned, creaked and shuddered violently, from what the Rogue could see of the other ships; they all seemed to be locked in place. As the fog lifted the reason was made clear. Dense ice had formed around their hulls, adding stress and weight to the already barely held together wrecks and locking their rudders.

A voice behind the Rogue spoke up. “It appears, my General, that Cofresi hasn’t lost a step, even at seventy-two.”

“BAH! MISERABLE OLD FISH! Ah… But I best control my temper. This can work for us, with them sailing to whatever safe spots they have, we can return to our mission. Now get us moving before I get bored, Isto!”

“As you wish, General.”

---

The God’s Fortune sailed until nightfall with all hands on deck, every set of eyes watching the horizon for any pursuers. Finally a large waterlogged cave provided the cover they sought to anchor down for the night. Once there, everyone was ready simply sit and rest out the stress of the day, but Wistea called Wally and Rozzi aside. She sat them down across from one another on deck. “Now, please hold hands.”

The two shared a speculative look before both shrugged and did as she asked.

“Now, channel magic like you would to enchant your weapons.”

They both looked down at their hands briefly with a bit of concern before looking up.

“Count of three?” Wally said.

“On three.” Rozzi answered.

They both silently counted as tiny jets of wind and wisp of flame danced down their arms. Slowly, the space between them filled with the same white light they’d created earlier that day. It was small, and flickering, and once again it felt as if, somehow, their hearts were beating alongside one another’s before the feeling quickly fated and the small light banished in a tiny tumult of wind and fire.

Wistea crossed her arms and hummed thoughtfully. “It is a start… The Wind and Fire attributes relate positively on the Wheel of Creation, so the two of you should be able to produce a stable unified result with some work. Maybe with a bit of practice…”

“Maybe they should kiss!” Shouted Polly from her seat on a barrel a few feet away.

Wistea yelled back over her shoulder. “Y-young lady! T-this is a very serious matter! Please do not disrupt it!”

“Huh, I was right; her leaves totally go darker when she’s embarrassed.” Rozzi said casually.

Turning back to the two of them she stomped a foot in frustration. “R-Rozzi! Please take this seriously, if you and Wally can combine your magic, it may give us a considerable advantage against that ghastly fleet out there.”

“Not tonight,” Captain Blackeye said as he finished inspecting the foremast for damage. “Need us all up bright and early, so we’re beddin’ down now. Mister Walter you’re on first watch so you sleep most of the night after your shift.

Wistea sighed. “I… Suppose we will pick this up tomorrow then.”

As everyone else set to leave, Wally began to stand when he realized Rozzi was still holding his hands.

Wally readied himself for more playful derision and teasing when he saw that Rozzi’s expression was one he hadn’t seen before. It was so outside her normal range that he could hardly recognize it as shyness.

“Wally… Did you… I mean, when we tried this did it feel like, I dunno… Our hearts were like, right next to each other?”

He nodded slowly. “Happened again just now, so I guess that’s supposed to happen.”

“Oh! Good, not just me then! That makes me feel a little better.”

Wally cocked his head to the side curiously.

“Okay so maybe, JUST maybe. I thought very briefly that… I dunno… I was holding you back.” Wally was about to say something when she continued. “I mean, you’re Mister Magical Destiny n’ you’re carryin’ around a literal gift from the gods and I’m just…”

“Someone who’s helped save my life more than a few times? Rozzi… Where’s this coming from?”

“I know, I know, it’s silly, but… It was there and if I didn’t say somethin’ it’d’ve just festered, y’know?”

Wally nodded again and held her hands a little tighter. “Let’s try it one more time before bed, eh?”

Rozzi took a moment to steady herself and nodded when she was ready.

As their hearts came into sync once more, the bright halo of light flickered into being once more before them. The two chose a single point within the light to focus the energy before finally, with a kaleidoscopic flash of light, a small whirlwind of bright orange flame danced in the air between them before flitting out of existence.

Overcome, Rozzi sprang forward and hugged Wally tightly, laughing happily.

Wally happily hugged her back. “There see? I knew we could do it!” He waited a few moments until she pulled away, except she didn’t. “Um… Rozzi…”

“Not done yet,” she replied.

Wally, if reluctantly, let her take the time she needed.

A minute or so later she spoke up. “You know I could just fall asleep like this.”

“Rozzi.”

“… Carry me?”

“Rozzi!”

“Alright!” She giggled and pulled herself away. “But I’m expecting double next time.”

“… What on Mondia do you mean by ‘double’?”

Rozzi smiled coyly and winked before walking away, humming happily as she went.

Wally sighed and shook his head, a clear smile on his face as he headed up to the foredeck to begin his watch. He began to idly play with the knoka nut bracelet his sister had given him before leaving home, silently relishing in the respite of the night, knowing moments of calm would become sparser as time went on.

<[Chapter 12]–[Index]–[Chapter 14]>

[malcolmteller-blog]

[HORROR] When Rats and the Internet Collide

Standing in my kitchen, I bit into the rat as it squirmed like a motherfucker. I mean, yeah, it kept saying it was fine with me eating it, but I guess it was some intrinsic survival instinct. The blood began to run down my hand and jaw as I chewed on the meat, and, having swallowed, I took another huge bite. The meat tasted raw, fresh and wet - it was how I liked it, how I’d gotten used to it.

Savoring the taste, I closed my eyes, focusing myself. What was about to happen was sacred and had to be treated as such. Finally, speaking slowly, I uttered the prayer, “To the Rat Lord. May His name be ever honoured.” There. The sacrifice and worship, for tonight at least, was done.

With that done, I went back to my room, climbed into bed, and went to sleep.

I should explain. I’ve followed and worshiped the Rat Lord ever since I got out of college, back in 2012. I won’t go into how I first encountered him - it’s kind of boring, to be honest. Though, ever since I’ve started worshiping him, it’s been nothing but glad tidings for me. I’ve gotten a big leg up in my career in the financial sector, due to a lot of the high-ups also being disciples (you know Wall Street? You wouldn’t imagine how many of us are there). There’s other stuff, too. I have more strength, more speed, more resilience. I can punch through a brick wall, for instance. I can jump from two hundred feet and land on my feet without breaking a single bone. Stuff like that.

It’s not just that. I believe in the Rat Lord. I believe in Him that when He reveals himself to the world, and his children all swarm out of the sewers and the gutters of the world to prepare for his coming, that it will be better for all of us, all those who follow him.

Anyways, I need to get to the matter at hand. What’s been happening to me lately.

I was sitting on my couch a few days ago, watching TV, when I notice something out of the corner of my eye. I glanced over at the kitchen and saw it. It was a rat - standing on its hind legs, just staring at me. Arching an eyebrow, I called out, “What do you want to tell me?” I mean, it obviously wanted to say something to me, just standing there staring at me like that.

“His Holy Eminence has called upon you for a grand vocation.” Its voice in my head sounded shrill and high-pitched, but also kind of scratchy - basically exactly how you’d imagine a rat to sound when it speaks. My eyes going wide, I got off the couch, stepped over toward the rat, and dropped to one knee, bowing my head. Don’t even fucking laugh - you show respect when the Rat Lord calls upon you.

The words left my mouth smoothly, like water, as they had all the other times I’d ever been called upon. “What does His Holy Eminence require?”

The messenger told me. I, as you would guess, obeyed.

Now, before I go any further, I need to explain things more. The Rat Lord isn’t the only deity out there. There’s a lot, and, as you’d expect in a closed community, from time to time they get into spats with each other. The one that concerns me and mine is his beef with this bastard called the Net Apostate. The Net Apostate exists on the Internet - literally, its a deity that lives inside the Internet. It doesn’t really want to rule the world, but it does want everyone to worship him, and he aims to accomplish this through… well, I don’t really know how to properly describe it because it’s honestly convoluted and stupid as fuck, but it involves a lot of ‘viral social media’ bullshit. Anyways, back in the late eighties the Net Apostate had some of his disciples murder one of the Rat Lord’s high priests that lived in the New York City area. Kind of a ‘sending a message’ thing. From then on, it was war.

It had been going on ever since. Murders, divine pronouncements, curses, mystical garbage, all that bullshit. It was at the point where we all couldn’t wait to show that web-based piece of garbage who the real boss was. Fortunately, with the grand vocation, I - me personally - received just the opportunity. Honestly, I was unbelievably thrilled, and so proud because I knew that the Rat Lord’s trust in me wouldn’t be misplaced. I was just the right person for the job, as you’ll see.

For the next week, I went to work. I scouted where the Net Apostate’s people usually hung out - web cafes, computer shops, that kind of deal. Then I went into one.

Walking into this computer repair shop down on Fifth that also doubled as a used book shop (I know, crazy, right?), I walked up to the counter. The guy behind it looked to be about two hundred and fifty pounds (in the fat way, not the well-built way), and he had these big, black, thick glasses. That’s what stands out to me in my mind. He was also balding, which made him look kind of gross, for some dumb reason.

Smiling at him, I started speaking. “Hi, uh… look, I need to inquire about something if you could help me out?” My voice was nervous, hesitant, as I spoke. I was nervous, I had no idea how this would go.

He smiled back in a friendly fashion and nodded. “Sure thing. What do you need?”

“Look… I…” I then chuckled nervously and ran my hand through my hair, “Okay, I’m totally new to this whole thing, but…” I paused, then went for the home run. “I’ve heard a lot about this guy, or thing, on the Internet called ‘the Net Apostate’… I’m wondering if you could hook me up with the next gathering?”

He kept smiling, but I noticed something in his eyes - something very subtle. It was a flashing of coldness in them, suspicion. He then shook his head, “Sorry, never heard of it.”

I nodded. “Okay. Alright. Thanks, though.” I waved, turned around, and walked out the door. I spent the next hour looking around web cafes, computer departments of department stores, taking pictures with my phone, that kind of thing. Then I went home.

The next day I spent all day (it was my day off) combing the Internet for information on the Net Apostate. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. I mean, if it’s a god that lives on the Internet, of fucking course it’ll have control over what information is out there on it. So, having finished my work, I went out for some snacks.

I’m walking through the outdoor parking lot of my apartment building at ten-thirty at night when I hear him coming up behind me.

Fucking jackpot, I thought to myself as he flicked his switchblade out and thrust it toward my back.

I kind of twirled around, grabbed his wrist and squeezed as hard as I could. Sure enough, I heard the bones crack like twigs in the manner of a few seconds, causing this little asshole to scream in agony. These people did have gifts and blessings (all followers of gods did), but enhanced strength and stamina sure as hell wasn’t one of them. I bashed my forehead into his face, causing his nose to snap and for his blood to splash all over my face and shirt. Then I forced him to the ground, and, grasping his throat in my hand and squeezing just the right amount, went forward with what I planned when I deliberately went about raising red flag after red flag.

“Listen. No, listen to me,” I said, trying to calm him down - he was hyperventilating and his eyes were wide with terror. He hadn’t been in this game for long, clearly. “Look. Where’s the next sacrifice? Where is it?”

He shook his head furiously. “I can’t tell you,” he gasped, blood still gushing out of his nose.

I leaned in close until only a couple inches were separating our faces. “You don’t tell me, I kill you and feed your body to the rats. See if your fucking Net Apostate can help you then.” I said that, and I waited, staring into his eyes. I saw the dawning realization awaken in his eyes, and then I saw it replaced by sheer, relentless terror. He knew exactly what’d happen to his soul - his, the soul of a Net Apostate disciple - if it found its way into the grasp of the Rat Lord. Finally, he sputtered out the time and place of the next sacrifice, along with how many disciples would be there. I smiled at him, thanked him in a super friendly and gentle voice, and then proceeded to snap his neck. As I got up and started to walk back into my building, I could see the rats - just a few of them at first - start to come out from all directions, to scurry over to the corpse.

I’ll just state my feelings on this matter before moving on: this is war, the Net Apostate is the enemy, you do what you have to do. Besides, fuck those guys.

So, for the next week, I prepped myself. I went out, got my supplies, and by the day of the sacrifice, arranged all my equipment on a table before me. I ran through the checklist, and everything was there. I put on the body armor, loaded everything else up, and - most importantly - ate about fifteen rats in the span of an hour. I felt like I wanted to fucking puke, but I kept it down. Not the time for it.

It took me about an hour to get there. I took the backroads and the alleys - I didn’t wanna get caught by a passing police officer. That’d be very bad news, and the Rat Lord wouldn’t care to take “I was in lockup for the night” as an excuse. I was positively giddy, though also a bit nervous - I wanted to make sure I did this all completely right. I finally made it to the warehouse belonging to this Canadian import/export company and went to work. I found the rooftop ladder and made my way to the roof. Then I jimmied open the rooftop door and entered the building, gently closing the door behind myself. I - ever so softly - moved down the stairwell until I was at just the right level. I gently opened the door and crept out onto the walkway. Looking down on the main floor, I saw it all.

It was a vast, open space, completely bare except for five human beings - four of them in robes, surrounding the fifth, a dead woman (mid-forties, she looked like) - and all of them before a 52” HDTV that was connected to an active laptop. I saw on the HDTV, the words “I AM PLEASED” flash on it. So the Net Apostate himself was in attendance. Even better.

So these were the disciples, and that was the sacrifice. Simple enough. My next course of action was also quite simple.

I pulled out my pistol (no clue what the model was - I got it from some street level gangbanger), took aim, and opened fire. The bangs of the gunfire reverberated through my body and ears as the three remaining disciple members took off running in all directions as the one I’d hit spasmed in the gunfire and then hit the ground, dead. I started to laugh because it was so funny - these bastards really did think that they could get away when I was a regular down at the gun range and had been for the past five years. Over the next twenty seconds, I gunned each and every last one of them down, their bodies flailing and twisting as they hit the ground.

Walking down the stairs to the main level - and seeing out of the corner of my eye the HDTV now rapidly flashing a variety of images pertaining to war and mass chaos - I calmly approached the sacrifice. I was happy. I was happy that I got to do this great feat, and I was happy that this piece of shit deity was here and was pissed. It’d be even more pissed by the time I was done.

I reached the corpse. I stared down at it, its stomach having been viciously cut open by dagger. Now was the time. I stuck my finger into my mouth, then down my throat - deeper, and deeper, and then it happened. I felt all the rats I had eaten come up from my stomach, into my throat, and then out my mouth. Leaning forward, I vomited a pure stream of rat filth into the open guts of the sacrifice. See, the sacrifice had been interrupted and so wasn’t officially complete, and thus was still in progress. What I was doing was literally that beautiful, as a result. As I vomited, out of the corner of my eye I saw the HDTV flash - more rapidly - even more images, now grotesque ones of murder and torture and gore. Yeah, this fucker was really pissed now.

Finally, I finished vomiting, and the HDTV abruptly switched off. I looked over at the laptop. It was off too.

Staring down at the corpse, an idiot grin appeared on my face, me being filled with such pure glee and energy after having utterly defiled this sacrifice. I then glanced at the HDTV and smiled even wider.

What else is to be said? I went home and went to bed. The Rat Lord’s people on the police force would ensure what happened would never find its way back to me.

So that’s the story. Now, because this is being posted on the Internet, I know the Net Apostate can see it, so, hey, buddy, if you’re reading this? From my God to you: fuck you, you miserable electronic prick.