#i've been editing A LOT of the previous chapters

[graveyardgremlins]

sneak peak into the next chapter of two slow dancers, last ones out:

Sal finally rips the letter open and it reads: Dear Sal Moron-i, It seems to me as if since I’ve become more friendly with the bats, people have forgotten who I am. While that is my fault, for which I apologize profusely, it was used to lead us into a path of no return. Somebody desired to use you to hurt me. However, I am not an idiot and I am sure you're perfectly capable of being intelligent yourself, regardless of how exhausting it must be. Take these two gifts as a reminder of how I got to where I am and as a reminder of who I am, but also as a reminder of how nice I can be to my friends. Use them at your discretion. I assure you that the next time I give you something, it will be much less pleasant for you.  With my greatest regards (and condolences), RH Sal put the letter down and took a look at the files that had come with it in the envelope.  Oh, this asshole is good, Sal thought, Real good. He stroked Matteo’s hair, fondly. “It’s a pity, Matty. You’d love huntin’ this shark with me.”

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, drama, and politics which neither Trevelyan nor Cullen wish to be in.

Canon divergent fic in which Josephine solves the matter of post-Wicked Hearts attention by inviting invites four noblewomen to compete for Cullen's affections. In this chapter, Trevelyan has someone she'd like to impress.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Previous entry. Next entry. Words: 3,848. Rating: all audiences, bar a few swears.)

Chapter 42: The Ball

The Great Hall was adorned in its finest, the banners of the Inquisition unfurled. A quartet played upon the dais, the floor before them awaiting its dancers. Attendees of every strata—advisors, digintaries, mages, soldiers—exhibited their most exquisite attire, anticipating the arrival of their guests of honour.

The door thundered open. A herald announced their names:

“Presenting! Lady Erridge of West Coldon, Lady Samient of Samient, Baroness Touledy of Val Misrenne, and Lady Trevelyan, of Ostwick!”

The Ladies strode in, none finer than they. Lady Erridge wore her pinkest, most ruffliest dress yet; Lady Samient wore her tightest, of dark, snakish leather; the Baroness wore her most glamorous, a gown in deep and passionate red—with a mahogany cane to match, of course.

Trevelyan entered last of all. The ballgown she wore? Unrecognisable.

The black brocade was gone, the lace ripped from its seams with wicked delight. All that remained was perfect canvas of purest navy, onto which it could be painted—with shining, silvery thread.

Her mother would’ve fumed at the very idea. But what good was learning embroidery, if one did not use it in defiance? Each Lady had taken up a quadrant of her own, yet the stitches they had sewed were all the same: dozens upon dozens of tiny, shimmering, stars.

Trevelyan sparkled with every step. Diamonds glittered around her neck, lent eagerly by the Baroness. Every candle’s flame glistened upon her. Even the night sky could not compare.

Were it not for the musicians, the room would have been stunned to silence. Whispers of admiration made their circuit. Trevelyan drank in the praise, striding through the parting crowds. They led her to the foot of the dais, where the Ladies had gathered, and where an elegant figure—clothed in blue and gold—stood tall. With little more than a smile and a gesture, Lady Montilyet brought the room to a hush.

“Friends of the Inquisition!” she proclaimed. “Thank you for attending! If I may, I wish to propose a small toast, to some of our departing guests.”

She raised her glass. “A toast to Lady Erridge and Lady Orroat, to the union of your families and of Coldon! A toast to the Baroness Touledy, for victory in Val Misrenne! And a toast to Lady Samient, for her safe journey home!”

Glasses and steins clinked together, accompanied by a hearty cheer.

“But to Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick,” Montilyet continued, “we do not say farewell. Gathered friends, may I please introduce you, to our new Arcanist!”

Applause went up, echoing off the walls, and filling the room with joy. Trevelyan laughed in delight, and caught glimpses of her friends amongst the crowd. Varric clapped, Dorian hollered, and even Sera cheered—though none were as enthusiastic as Dagna herself!

Still, there was one face she could not quite find.

“Tonight, we celebrate!” Montilyet declared. “So please, enjoy!”

The band launched into triumphant fanfare; good humour and good company were the orders of the evening. The Ladies, all aflutter, went about these goals with giddiness and verve.

“Won’t you come dance?” asked Erridge, having already recruited Lady Orroat to her cause.

Trevelyan startled, her attention elsewhere. She stumbled and stammered over her excuses. “Oh! Later, perhaps? There’s something, I, um...”

Lady Samient picked up on her meaning, and picked up her slack. “Come, Lady Erridge! I’ll dance with you.”

Appeased, Lady Erridge escorted her away. Trevelyan withdrew from the dancefloor.

She could dance another time. She did not wish to muss her hair or catch her skirt. Her eyes scanned the party. Her fingers trembled. The moment he saw her had to be perfect.

A hand caught her shoulder. The Baroness, apparently having already procured a drink, leant over, and tilted it forward.

“There,” she whispered.

The crowd parted, as if by her will. True to her word, at the other end of the room, there he stood. The man she’d been searching for.

The Commander.

Maker, he had only become more handsome the longer she had known him. That rough-hewn jaw of his, and the dishevelment of stubble upon it; the subtle waves in his hair, hints of his rebellious curls; those dimples upon his cheeks—the thumb-prints of the divine, left where the Maker’s scultping hand had gone astray.

And his weary eyes, whose gentle gaze found her, and drew her closer.

Trevelyan admired, as she approached, the coincidence of the navy blue doublet that Lady Montilyet had undoubtedly advised him to wear. Hm. She liked him better in red. Suited him more, perhaps—though it mattered little. There was nothing that could dull the shine of him; true gold, after all, did never rust.

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, as he straightened to greet her. And he would have done so, perhaps warmly, perhaps sweetly—had a scout, uniformed and on duty, not appeared at his side.

Ah, fuck.

They whispered something to him beneath the hubbub of the ball, which sharpened back into focus. Though Trevelyan heard nothing of the Commander’s reply, when his attention returned to her, his smile was gone.

“Arcanist,” he said, with a bow. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me. There is urgent business to which I must attend.”

Bloody typical.

“Of course,” she told him, magnanimously. “Duty calls.”

“At inconvenient times,” he muttered.

“No duty is ever convenient,” she commented. That seemed to amuse him, at least.

“I will return as soon as I am able, I assure you.”

“Yes, Commander.”

She curtsied to him, and allowed him to depart. The scout lingered by the rotunda door; the Commander followed them through.

Gone.

Trevelyan looked down at her pretty, sparkly skirt, and fluffed it up, pointlessly. Not quite the moment she’d been hoping for.

Oh, well. She would have ample opportunity for such moments with him in the coming days. If he didn’t get called away by something or other during those, too.

Stowing her frustration, Trevelyan returned to the party. There was plenty there to distract her, anyway. She watched the Ladies dance together; she enthused with Dagna about their work; she spoke to Lady Montilyet about her new quarters (ready tomorrow!); and she gossiped with Dorian about absolutely nothing of note—though he was, as always, terribly good conversation.

Yet still no Commander.

The noise of the music and the chatter and the stomps of the dancing were beginning to blur in her brain. Dorian noted her change in temperament, as she attempted to peer through the garden door from afar. Too many in attendance; the party had spilled out into it. It was no less busy out there than it was in here.

“Try up there,” Dorian suggested, indicating the mezzanine above. It seemed Sera had been banned from it today, as there was no skulking to be seen. “It has a balcony, if you need some air.”

“Thank you,” said Trevelyan. She’d had little cause to ever stray up there before—but this seemed as good a reason as any. She bid him farewell, and escaped up the stairs.

The moment she reached their peak, her troubled mind calmed. Mere feet above the chaos, the music came quieter, the conversation nothing more than ambience. Thank the Maker.

Besides, this mezzanine was well-furnished for a somewhat hidden space, with a luxurious chaise and portraits of figures Trevelyan did not quite recognise. The candelabrum here were not lit, leaving all illumination to that of the moons, whose glow trickled through a pair of glass doors—beyond which, as promised, was a balcony.

But Trevelyan felt enough at ease to stay inside—and she found the view of the party below to be quite of interest. The dancers weaved such wonderful patterns; outfits, in all colours, were arrayed like a painter’s palette. She could watch, as those she knew flitted from one group, to another. An enjoyable pict—

The rotunda door opened, drawing her eye. The Commander entered the hall. He strode into the party with such determination, it was as if it did not exist around him. Trevelyan traced his path as it led him, direct, to the Baroness.

They huddled against a wall. He whispered something. Urgent business? Oh, no.

But the Baroness smiled. Wider and wider. She asked him a question; he replied with nod. She placed a hand over her heart, and sighed. Trevelyan did the same.

If the news they shared was what she hoped, then she was rather glad she hadn’t kicked up a fuss at the Commander’s departure. Because if it was what she hoped, then he could have left all night, and still she would smile.

Maker, she had to see the Baroness—and she would have, if not for the feet hurrying up the stairs. The Baroness? No cane. Then—!

The Commander sprang onto the landing, startling himself as much as he startled her, determination abandoning him in an instant. “Arcanist!” he stammered, attempting to bow. “Forgive me—Dorian told me you were here.”

That crafty bastard. Trevelyan put his schemes aside, and asked, “Is everything all right, Commander? What was your urgent business?”

Before he’d even said a word, he smiled. That alone brought her relief. “There was a message from the Inquisitor,” he told her. “The battle is won. Val Misrenne is safe.”

Trevelyan could scarcely believe it. She clasped a hand over her mouth, a beaming smile beneath it. She shook her head, out of sheer incredulity. By Andraste. She could not fathom how dear Touledy felt.

“Thank the Maker,” she breathed. “Or, I suppose—thank you, Commander.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I think it is the Inquisitor’s party and the guard of Val Misrenne who ought to have the credit of it.”

“Of course, but you may take a little as well, Commander. Your handling of the situation was… impressive, to say the least.”

Such a compliment did not seem to sit well with him, for he stuttered as if he had not the words to form a reply. Awkwardness prevailed, until his fortunes changed, and his eyes chanced upon the balcony doors.

“Forgive me, I didn’t meant to disturb you. Were you… headed outside?”

Trevelyan smiled. She looked at them, then at him. “Preferably not alone.”

“Oh. I could...”

She backed into the doors, her eyes beckoning him to follow. He trailed after her as if in a trance, stepping through, to the tranquil night beyond.

The stars above shone in greeting, illuminating the finely-carved stone of the balcony balustrade. Trevelyan rested herself upon it, gazing out. The Commander’s presence, a warmth in the absence of the sun, settled beside her.

“It’s... a nice night,” he said.

She quite agreed. The entire courtyard was laid out before them, from the tavern—as lively as the party they’d left behind—to the stables—quiet, at this time of day. Moonlit stone, punctuated by glowing torchlight, encircled the fortress, and banished the darkness from its embrace.

“I, ah, have something for you,” he said, hand fumbling within his jacket. “I believe this is yours.”

He managed to locate this ‘something’, and freed it from its concealment. A white cloth, that flashed in the moonlight, embroidered with leaves Trevelyan recognised. It was far more pristine than the last time she’d seen it.

The napkin slipped pleasantly from the Commander’s fingers into her own. She noted the warmth of his proximity, still lingering within the weave, and the sweet, earthy scent that had been left by his possession.

“Technically,” she teased, “I believe it is Lady Montilyet’s.”

“I hardly think she’ll miss it.”

“I certainly hope so.” She tucked it away—safe. “Thank you, Commander.”

“Thank you for the use of it,” he said. “Though, speaking of Lady Montilyet—you, ah, took the offer. To become Arcanist.”

“I did.”

“Good.”

“Good?”

The Commander stammered, “For you—I mean. I mean, I am glad. That—despite how you came to be here—you have found enough reason to stay.”

Trevelyan shook her head, and smiled. “I know that I ought to have left, and truly have started my life afresh… but that would have been dishonest, to what I truly want.”

“May I ask… what is it?”

“What?”

The Commander met her eye. “That you… want?”

She bit back the smile that threatened to betray her. “Well… I suppose there is one thing—”

Feet clattered up the stairs. Trevelyan stopped herself. As if she were summoned by these precise circumstances, Lady Erridge stumbled out onto the mezzanine.

“Lady Trevelyan!” she called. “Oh, Commander, there you are! Sorry to disrupt, but I came to see if you should like to dance!”

The Commander shook his head. “No, thank you. I don’t dance.”

Erridge giggled. “I know! I wasn’t speaking to you, Commander! Come, Lady Trevelyan! The Commander shall have plenty of time to whisper with you when we are gone!”

Though the interruption was not exactly ideal, Trevelyan could not deny the sentiment. She curtsied to the Commander, somewhat apologetically.

“It seems I am summoned away. Urgent business, I believe they call it.”

His mouth tilted into a smirk; it made her skin tingle. “Another time, then.”

“Of course.”

Raucous music caught their ears, and Erridge perked. “Come along!” she said, snatching up Trevelyan’s hand. She threw a hasty farewell to the Commander over her shoulder, and whisked Trevelyan away. They tumbled down the stairs together, bursting onto the main floor of the hall—as the band cued a jig.

“Over here!” called Samient and Orroat, from the dancefloor. In the absence of Lady Erridge, they had partnered together—but saved a spot beside them, just in case.

Trevelyan and Erridge squeezed past the other dancers, and hurried to take it. They joined hands—properly, this time—and waited for the song to start, giggling all the while.

Strings and wind erupted into a prancing melody of alternating highs and lows, and caught them quite off-guard. But Lady Erridge sprang to action, and Trevelyan followed her lead. They bounced around the floor with zest and zeal, clapping their hands, kicking their legs into the air. Skirts clashed and flew, an explosion of fabric and colour.

It burst apart, into an exchange of dancers. Trevelyan sailed into the arms of Lady Orroat, who cut as fine a form as one could expect.

“So this is what you were all up to yesterday?” she said, of Trevelyan’s dress. “Maker, it’s beautiful!”

Though the compliment was quite routine, a look of panic struck the passing Lady Erridge. “Look, dear Orroat!” she called, loosing a hand from Samient’s, to jab her finger at some collection of stars. “I sewed those ones!”

Dancers parted again, to what must have been Erridge’s utmost relief. Trevelyan swapped Orroat for Samient, the latter of whom smiled as if amused.

“It seems dear Erridge has quite reversed her position on your knowing Lady Orroat,” she whispered.

Trevelyan giggled. “Good, for I could hardly say we should make such a handsome couple as they!”

Nor one so well-suited. It seemed the touch of her dear Orroat’s hand had quelled Lady Erridge’s worry in an instant, and the pair twirled and danced so pleasantly to the eye, it made Trevelyan miss a step. Samient ably accounted for the fumble. It was a wonder how she danced so well, in a dress so constricting. Then again, it was a wonder how this was Trevelyan’s first stumble, in a dress so grand.

Though their jig came to an end, another began—and Lady Erridge would not be satisfied with just the one! Trevelyan was made to dance the next three complete, until—quite exhausted—she formulated an excuse, and made her exit.

The sight of the Baroness at the edge of the dancefloor was quite welcome, as if safety and anchor in a storm. Trevelyan hurried towards her, and greeted her with a smile and an embrace—for which they both knew the reason.

“I’ve heard the news,” she said, as she recovered her breath. “How do you feel?”

The Baroness sighed. “Relieved. When I leave for my home tomorrow, I shall return to find it at peace—but that peace has not come without sacrifice. And yet, I know it could have been so much more. That Val Misrenne and its people still stand is worth celebrating.”

“It is. And I hope that it brings you peace, as well.”

Trevelyan hugged her again—but the music’s sudden and effervescent return caused her to jump. Laughing at herself, Trevelyan glanced back at the dancefloor.

“You know, I am surprised Lady Erridge has not called you up for a jig!”

The Baroness chuckled. “No, no, my leg is far too frail for that.”

“Really?” Trevelyan raised an eyebrow. “I remember you saying that you still dance.”

“I do.” She grinned. “But the leg is an excellent excuse.”

Trevelyan caught her meaning. “Lady Erridge’s enthusiasm is quite difficult to match.”

“Indeed. She has the stamina of a demon. Though I’m sure Lady Orroat could find some use for that.”

Trevelyan laughed. “Your Ladyship! Please, I feel so terrible teasing her!”

“Then you should not like to hear what we say about you and him.”

The Baroness winked, as if to point. Trevelyan, utterly confused by who ‘him’ was, heeded the suggestion. She turned, laid her eyes upon the man in question, and groaned. Weaving past the dancers was—she ought to have guessed it—the Commander.

“Oh, Maker! You all have far too much—” She halted, realising the Baroness’s mouth was half-open, her cane being raised in the air. “No, no—!”

“Commander!”

He heard the call. His head whipped round. No stopping it now—he was coming towards them.

“Baroness!” Trevelyan hissed.

Touledy smiled, gave a suggestive flick of her brow, and said nothing more. Though Trevelyan was almost glad of this—the Commander ought not hear anything she was thinking.

“Ladies,” he greeted, upon arrival. “Is there something you need?”

“Why, yes,” said Touledy, all too confidently. What was she up to? “Lady Trevelyan here wishes another dance, but I am afraid I am unable to”—she flashed her cane—“would you be able to dance with her Ladyship, in my stead?”

“Oh.” The Commander softened. "Are you all right?”

Trevelyan noted, rather indignantly, that the Commander asked this question with the same sort of gentle voice that he often put on for her. This was a concept which, she suddenly discovered, she did not like. Why, oh why, did she have to make him befriend the other Ladies? Fool.

“Yes, thank you,” the Baroness answered, “but her Ladyship must have a dance.”

Trevelyan rolled her eyes. “But Baroness, the Commander does not like to dance, and I—”

“I could try,” he said.

Trevelyan stared at him. She thought of a thousand questions in response to this. But somehow, the only one she could quite manage was:

“What?”

“If you would like to.”

Oh. Well, there was little chance of her saying anything other than, “Yes.”

The Baroness grinned, relishing in her triumph. “Go on, then,” she said, “enjoy.”

Easier said than done. At least Trevelyan had danced enough jigs with Lady Erridge to know what she was to do with them, now. In her mind, as they walked to the floor, she went over the steps. Left, left, kick, clap. Switch. Then to the right? But—

The music grew in volume. Yet it sounded like no jig she’d ever heard. Trevelyan realised that the musicians had betrayed her. Not a jig. Not at all.

Sweet, slow strings floated across the hall. A… romantic melody, that had couples approaching the floor. Dear Maker fucking Andraste shitting Void. People linked hands and put them on waists and Trevelyan realised that she was in the midst of it, surrounded, and there was no escape, and she would have to do those things herself.

She faced the Commander. Maker, why did he have to look so pretty and be so sweet? This sort of thing was far simpler with unimportant suitors that one could so easily discard after, even if one did step on their toes.

He offered a hand. Trevelyan’s shook.

But still, they met.

Her fingers slid into his palm, sensing the warmth that emanated from beneath the leather of his glove. The feeling of his skin, however rugged or tender, was cruelly left to the imagination. She savoured it regardless.

Her other hand gathered up her skirts, like the rest of the dress-wearers were doing. Almost in position. There was simply one last thing to emulate—

The Commander’s hand moved for her waist, hesitant in its approach. The first touches of his fingertips—gentler even than that of cotton or down—caused her body to tense. She did not know how she was to bear his entire hand.

But his hand stopped short. It instead hovered over the fabric of her dress, as if afraid to press any further. Disappointing.

Nevertheless, the gentle strings of anticipation harmonised into a symphony. Dancing commenced, and the Commander’s feet shifted. Trevelyan mirrored his steps. Her nerves hit a peak.

And then, began to fade.

Because dancing with him was unlike dancing with anyone she had danced with before. It felt different. Gentler. Warmer. Safer. No pressure for extravagance, or flourish. It almost did not matter if she was dancing well or not. It was only him that mattered.

“You should dance more often,” she whispered to him. “You do it well.”

He smiled, softly, and said, “All right.”

Her words must have emboldened him, for his grip around her hand firmed and strengthened, and he drew her closer by its pull. His other hand slipped around her back, fitting perfectly into the mold of her body. The gap between them was more indistinct than ever.

Yet in that closeness was comfort. Her head, laid on his shoulder. The warmth of his chest, felt within her own. That gentle, soothing sway they shared. She let her eyes fall shut, the dancers fall away, and listened only to the beat of his heart. Trevelyan could have stayed like that for an eternity.

But the music slowly, gradually, dulled to quiet. The other dancers reappeared around them, the party audible once more. It was over.

They came to a standstill. Trevelyan’s hand reluctantly left his grasp; his trailed away from her waist. Yet still, she smiled, for nothing could take it from her lips.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Of course,” he replied.

“I shan’t make you dance another.”

“That’s… all right.” He rubbed his neck. “Will you, ah, be stargazing tonight?”

She played with her dress. “Most likely.”

“Ah. Good.”

She curtsied, he bowed. He left, she stayed. Her feet still wobbled, a little.

But she would have to recover quickly. For she turned to her side, and saw complete what had, until now, been only a disruption in her periphery: the Ladies, huddled together, in keen observance.

Trevelyan shook her head, and, before they could open their mouths, told them firm:

“Not one word.”

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 36: To The Sea

Summary: It's time to move on. You're not sure where you're going exactly, but anywhere is better than Texas

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7,811 words

Warnings: ANGST, injuries, medical stuff, descriptions of pain and injuries, brief discussion about strangulation, mentions of PTSD and nightmares, so much crying, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, angst, a very little sprinkle of comfort, language, mentions of medications, still very heavy emotionally

A/N: Not actually a lot of warnings for this one. It's a lot of dialogue and inner monologues. Not a lot happens, just mostly setting the scene for the next chunk of the story. Bring tissues though, the last part of the chapter emotionally wrecked me but also might be the best thing I've ever written.

11/30/24: **This Chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

It’s warm outside. 

Not even the shade from the building can completely shield you from the dome of heat that seems to surround the base. It seeps into the concrete and asphalt that lock it into place, trapping everyone in a bubble that may as well be an oven. It’s always hot in Texas, though. You hate it. You’ve been spoiled by the cold, rainy seasons in England. You’d gladly take that over Texas. 

You’d take anything over Texas. 

The heat prickles at your skin, your arm starting to get sweaty in the sling. It had been Dr. Keller’s idea to keep your shoulder as still as possible so you don’t continue to cause yourself pain when you move. It still hurts, but at least you won’t instinctively try to use your left arm now.

Despite the warmth, there’s still a chill deep in your bones. The warmth of the pain medicine has worn off and you’ve been left with the perpetual ice that has seemed to coat your insides. Dr. Keller says it's the stress giving you a fever. Every nightmare, every flashback sends your body temperature spiking, your heart beating right out of your chest. You’re not out of the woods yet. It can take a long time to recover from that level of distress and the omega taking over. You almost regret it, but there was no guarantee you would have lived either way at that time. You did what you had to do, and it did work out in the end. 

But at what cost? 

Dr. Keller’s phone buzzes in her pocket and she pulls it out, staring down at the screen for a moment. “Kyle wants to come by.” 

You don’t want to see him. You don’t want to see any of them. 

“I think you should see him. Even if it’s just for a moment.” She squeezes your hand. “I’ll be right here.” 

It’s a predicament. Dr. Keller supports your decision to keep them away, putting some distance between all of you for the time being. Yet, she also says being close to your pack will help your healing. Having your pack around will help your omega settle once again. She needs that safety, that security before she finally lets go completely. 

You don’t want to be close to them, but you may not have any other choice. 

You sit there in silence, picking at the fabric of your sweatpants as you wait for Kyle’s arrival. Sweat has started to bead on your back, the day only getting warmer and warmer as the sun moves higher in the sky. You want to go back inside, back into the cool air conditioned building. You want to crawl back onto the hospital bed and lay there for the next few hours. 

You can’t. 

Footsteps approach, but you don’t look up. You know who it is. You don’t want to see him. 

“Kyle.” Dr. Keller greets. 

“Christine.” He says back. It still throws you off, hearing Dr. Keller's first name. She'll always be Dr. Keller to you. Kyle turns his attention to you, still standing a few steps from the bench you're perched on. “Hi, love.” He says. The affectionate nickname almost makes you wince. You don't look up at him. You don’t want to see his face. “I wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.” 

You don't move, don't give an answer. You don't have an answer to give anyway. You shouldn't have to give an answer. 

He lowers himself onto the bench, sitting as far away from you as he can. “It’s hot today.” He says, adjusting his hat. Always wearing a hat. Maybe that's why he and Price work so well together. 

He stares at you for a long moment but you don't bother moving, your gaze still on your sweatpants. They're starting to get a bit warm, even with your perpetual chill. 

“I’m not here to apologize.” He says, breaking the silence. “You’ve probably heard enough apologies to last you a lifetime.” He shakes his head. “Words can’t fix what we did. Nothing can fix what we did. All we can do is give you what you need, try and make you as comfortable as possible.” 

Tears burn your eyes as you listen to him. He's not wrong, an apology won't fix what happened. No words will ever be able to fix what they put you through. You're not sure there's anything they could do that would make up for it. An apology still would have been nice, despite the fact you know how guilty he is. Their avoidance of you, their willingness to give you such space in an unknown place just proves how guilty they all are. 

That doesn't make things hurt any less. 

You slowly turn away from Kyle, angling yourself towards Dr. Keller. 

He doesn't say anything further in that regard, taking your movement as an answer to his non-apology. He leans forward instead, resting his elbows on his knees. “I just wanted to let you know that we’re getting ready to leave soon. We’ll be heading somewhere safe, somewhere quiet and secluded. I think you’ll like it.” 

Dr. Keller had informed you of that earlier after she went to speak to them. They've decided what to do, what's best for the pack again. You might have protested, except for the fact it meant you were getting to leave Texas. Where exactly they're taking you, you're not sure. You just know it's not Texas. 

“I want you to know that we’re here if you need us.” He stares at you for a moment longer before pushing himself up to stand. 

If, not when. 

Maybe they're finally getting the message. 

Dr. Keller stands, touching your right shoulder gently before she steps away with Kyle, speaking quietly with him, but you can still hear every word in the nearly silent space around you. 

“In an attempt to remain a neutral, professional party in this situation, I feel it would be appropriate for me to tell you not to beat yourself up too much about this.” Dr. Keller says. “The unprofessional side of me has many words I’d like to say to all of you.” She clears her throat. “That being said, on a positive note I can say you’re all doing the right thing for once, prioritizing your omega and fulfilling her needs, even if her needs require you to leave her alone for now. I know it’s hard, I know every instinct is screaming at you to help her, but just take comfort in knowing you are helping her. You’re doing the best thing you can do for her at this time.” Dr. Keller puts a hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. “Even if it is tearing you up inside.” 

“Thanks, Doc.” He says. 

“I’ll see you soon.” She says, patting his arm before she heads back towards your bench. 

You turn your head just slightly, not missing the way Gaz lingers for a brief moment before he turns his back on you, walking back down the sidewalk. 

It hurts. 

You want to cry with every swallow. No matter how much you chew, it doesn’t ease the pain of trying to swallow solid food. Even the worst sore throat you’ve ever had pales in comparison to this pain. Tears burn in your eyes as you eat, unable to refuse this time in favor of choking down some liquid nutrients. Even liquids make your throat ache, but they are easy to chug to get it over with at once. 

This feels like torture. 

Dr. Keller looks guilty as she spoon-feeds you the soup. Chicken noodle, something simple and easy but still something with some substance. It makes you think back to when you were sick as a child, your mother dutifully feeding you homemade chicken noodle soup until you reached the age you could feed yourself. 

You do feel like a child again, unable to even hold the spoon. Well, you could hold it, but it would have come at the expense of some burns from how badly your hand was shaking. 

So instead you sit here, being spoon-fed soup you can barely stand eating. 

“I know.” She says as a tear finally falls, your inhale shaky from the ache in your throat. “You need something in your system for the sedative. It’s a long flight and you’ll be sick when you wake up if you don’t have anything in your stomach. That’s going to hurt a lot worse than eating now.” 

Yeah. You’ve already figured that out. 

“Strangulation is a tough thing to survive.” She says, dragging the bottom of the spoon against the edge of the bowl to wipe off any soup that might drip on you. “Then again, so is getting shot, and distressing to the point of your omega taking over.” She holds the spoon up to your lips, and you’re tempted to refuse. “You’ve survived a lot, more than most could. And to look this good after...” 

You blink up at her, teary eyed and sickly looking, exhausted and bruised. Your left eye is still almost swollen shut, and your hair is tangled perhaps beyond saving, tied up in a bun at the top of your head. All just reminders of what you survived, all reminders of what happened to you. Of what was allowed to happen to you. 

You’re not quite sure when the last time you had a real shower was either. 

“I know.” She says, spooning more soup into your mouth. “You might not feel like it, right now.” 

“I want a shower.” You say, your voice still hoarse and cracking through your throat. A real shower might solve a lot of problems for you right now. It won’t fix much, but being truly clean would make a lot of things feel better. 

“I wholeheartedly agree.” Dr. Keller says. 

You give her a look. You don't smell that bad. She should know, she’s the one that cleaned the blood off of you and the one who gave you the sponge bath this morning. 

She gives you a look back. “I meant it would be nice to take a real shower. Once we get where we’re going, we can work on the logistics of a shower.” 

Right. You can’t exactly stand for a long time on your own, not to mention the problem of only being able to use one arm without bringing blinding pain upon yourself. That’s where the pack would come in handy. 

The thought of one of them seeing you vulnerable like that, putting their hands on you right now makes your skin crawl. 

A shiver runs down your spine, your body shuddering uncontrollably. You grunt as your shoulder screams in pain, another electric jolt burning straight through your nerves and down through your feet. Fuck. You mouth the word, squeezing your eyes shut. It makes your stomach churn, the soup starting to burn a path back up through your esophagus.

“Breathe for me.” Dr. Keller says, putting a gentle hand on your right shoulder. 

In and out. You focus on your breath, the only thing you can do without feeling like you’re going to go insane from the pain. It’s all you can do in this situation. It’s the only thing you can do at all. Breathe. Just keep breathing. 

Sometimes you don’t want to. 

The pain passes as it always does, leaving behind a subtle ache that will linger until the next flare of pain. It’s a constant, never-ending cycle that you can’t escape from. Weeks, Dr. Keller had said. It can take weeks to heal. You’ll be stuck in this cycle for weeks and weeks. What if it never heals? That is a possibility. It’s always a risk with any injury. 

What if the rest of your life is like this? 

You’re crying again, hot tears blazing a path down your cheeks. They won’t stop, they never stop. There’s a constant stream down your face, even in your sleep. You’ve woken to find your face and neck damp from the never ceasing flood of tears. 

How you can’t wait for the time to come when you have none left.

You’d welcome the numbness at this point, greet it like an old friend and invite it in for tea. Anything over the pain and tears that won’t stop. The depression-fueled numbness that had filled you when Price and Gaz left, then Soap and Ghost would be a welcome relief at this point. Anything would be better than the pain. 

You almost wish you were in a coma right now. Then you wouldn’t feel anything at all. 

Dr. Keller puts the spoon back into the soup bowl before rolling the table to the side. She puts a hand on your head, gently stroking your hair as you cry. The room is silent aside from your sniffles, Dr. Keller not having to say a single word. The silence is almost a blessing. You’re tired of hearing words, of hearing people speak. There’s nothing anyone can say that will do anything to help you, to comfort you, to make it better. 

There’s nothing anyone can do to make it better. 

You’re so tired of being like this. 

The sedative is kicking in before you even reach the airfield. She can see the way your head is drooping further and further forward in the car, your body jostling without any complaint. It had started kicking in before you even got into the car, as you offered very little resistance when Kyle helped her mauver you into the front seat. She chose Kyle out of everyone to help her in hopes it would be easiest on you. Your claimed alpha’s beta is a good place to start in rebuilding the bonds within the pack, and his calm demeanor certainly helps. He is a caretaker through and through, that beta trait prominent above the others in him. He would have made a good medic, had he gone that route. 

Your chin drops to your chest as the car comes to a stop in front of the plane, your body slumping to the side against the door. 

“She’s out.” Christine says, unbuckling her seatbelt. 

“Makes this easier.” Kyle says, getting out of the car. 

They maneuver you into the wheelchair, Christine easing your head onto your right shoulder to avoid aggravating the left. The less pain you’re in when you come out of it, the better, though pain will be unavoidable. Kyle pushes the wheelchair up the ramp of the plane, Christine following close behind. She’s glad she gave you the sedative before you left the med center to avoid as much pain as possible. She almost wishes she had given it to you earlier, as getting you into a sweatshirt had been a battle of its own. Though, the longer it stays in your system, the longer you’ll sleep through the flight. The longer you sleep through the flight, the longer they can delay the inevitable emotional storm of being enclosed in a tight space with your pack. 

If you’re lucky, you’ll be out of it long enough for them to reach the cottage without incident. 

John is waiting near the front of the aircraft, his eyes watching carefully as Kyle helps maneuver you into a seat. Even with the turmoil in the pack bonds, an alpha will always feel protective over their omega. There’s some things that can’t be undone, even in such a fragile state. Some instincts can’t be unlearned, no matter what. 

“I gave her a sedative.” Christine explains as she gets you as comfortable as possible in the seat. “It won’t last the whole flight, but it’ll take a while to wear off regardless.” 

“Is that more for her or for us?” John asks. 

“Both.” Christine says. “Mostly for her. It helps with the pain of moving around, but it will also keep her calm in close quarters like this.” 

“Here.” John says, handing her something. It’s a blanket, brand new by the feel of it. “Johnny made a store run this morning. It’s going to get cold in here, so he got the warmest one he could find.” 

Christine takes the blanket, the fabric thick and soft in her hands. It’s a touching gesture, speaking volumes of their desire to still care for you despite everything, their willingness to do what they have to, to keep the pack together. “Perfect.” She says, carefully draping it over you and tucking it around you before John gets you secured in the seat. 

“It’s going to be a long flight.” John says, taking a step back. 

“It is.” Christine says, pulling out her thermometer. She takes your temperature, letting out a hum at the number that pops up on screen. “I need to monitor her temperature.” She explains as John gives her a look. “It’s been spiking when she gets stressed.” 

“She's not quite out of it yet, is she?” John asks.

“Not quite.” She says, putting the thermometer back in her bag. “I’ve only seen two omegas successfully come back from that point, and I know the number across the board isn’t very high. It takes a long time for the body and the brain to get back to normal.” 

“And on top of everything that happened...” 

She stares up at him for a long moment. “She’s very strong. I knew she was a fighter, but to come out the other side even where she is now...” Christine shakes her head. “I didn’t want to say this at the time, but I was expecting the worst. When that call came in about what state she was in...” She bites her lip, holding the emotions back. “Her resilience and fortitude is what kept her alive. That and Simon’s courage to do what needed to be done.” 

“I know.” John says, looking past her. “We all owe a lot to him.” 

Christine puts a gentle hand on his arm. “You’re doing what’s best for her. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it goes against every instinct you have, it’s what she needs.” 

“That’s all that matters to us right now.” John says, staring down at her hand for a moment. “There’s nothing else we can do, so it’s time we start putting our priorities where they should have been the whole time.” 

Christine gives him a small smile. “I’m proud of you for that. It takes a lot to unlearn the things you’ve been told since the beginning.” 

The corner of John’s lips twitch before his face falls into the emotionless mask he’s been wearing for the last few days. “It’s about time we get our heads out of our arses.” 

“I can’t blame you totally.” She shrugs. “We were all just doing what the initiative was telling us to do. We couldn’t have known. There wasn’t any room to question it.” 

“I wish we would have figured it out sooner.” He sighs. 

“Things might have been worse if the truth did come out sooner. If you started digging into the initiative too soon, Shepherd might have gotten antsy and taken more drastic measures to stop the truth from coming out entirely.” She glances down at you. “I think this was all inevitable.” She turns her gaze back to John. “What happened, happened. None of us can change that. All we can do is keep moving forward with what we have right now.” 

He stares at her for a long moment. “The more time passes, the more I’ve come to realize why Kate chose you for this position.” 

The corner of her lips turns up in a smile. “Well, I am rather good at my job, which, among other things, involves advocating on behalf of omegas.” 

John huffs. “Wish we would have listened sooner.” 

“You can’t change the past.” She repeats, looking down at you again. “But you can change the future.” 

You woke from your sedation about four hours from Helston. 

Well, ’woke’ might have been too strong of a word for it. Your eyes opened, but you were still hazy, movements sluggish and entirely unaware of the world around you. You floated between sleep and awareness for an hour before finally gaining consciousness completely. Awareness took quite a while to return, though. Not until they were moving you to the car from the plane. 

Even still you’re groggy, slumped against the door in the back seat of the car. You blink slowly, eyes unfocused as you stare out the window at the blur of green passing by. 

“How is she?” John asks from the driver's seat, glancing up at the rearview mirror. 

“Cow.” You say, blinking slowly as the car passes a field of cows. 

“Still out of it.” Christine answers from the back seat where she's sitting next to you. Your response might have been enough to answer that. “Better than being in pain, though.” 

“How long will it take for her to get out of it?” Kyle asks. 

“Hopefully she’ll be more lucid by the time we get there, but it could take a few hours for it to completely wear off.” Christine says, wiping a bit of drool from your chin. “Probably not a bad thing. This is a big change, and with everything that’s happened, it’s going to take some time to settle in.” 

“Things are going to be rough.” Kyle says. 

“Yes.” She agrees. “Being enclosed in a small space with the people you want to see the least in the world isn’t an ideal situation. It’ll be an adjustment for everyone. I trust all of your abilities to adapt, though. Just don't go in expecting things to be the way they were.”

John's hands tighten around the steering wheel, his knuckles going white. Kyle cracks his window open, prepared for the thickening of John's scent in the air. Christine knows she hit a nerve, but it needed to be said. Even if you were open to forgiveness right now, even if they had chosen to go after you right away, things still wouldn't be the same. Things won't ever be the same. It is their fault deep at the root of it. Those cameras were put up because of them, you were taken because of them. You were chosen for the “initiative” because of them, because Kate thought you'd fit in well with them. Their decisions shaped your life, and will continue to shape your life. 

Can you ever come to forgive them? Christine likes to think so. She has the hope that they can put in the work and regain your trust and earn eventual forgiveness. She knows you'll allow them to try once the initial hurt and emotions begin to fade, once the two of you put in enough work to start processing the trauma around the events that happened. It will take time. Probably a long time. 

She'll be there every step of the way. 

“Ashley did some shopping for us, picked up some stuff to get us until we can get into town.” Kyle says, looking at his phone. 

“Good.” John says, his shoulders starting to relax. “Should wait a couple days before going. Get settled in.”

“She's still working on cleaning up. Probably still be there when we get there.” Kyle says, putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“That's fine. We’ll probably have to utilize her a bit.” 

“Doubt she'll complain.” Kyle says, looking out the window. “Be thrilled to have something to do besides work.” 

You let out a quiet groan, shifting against the door. “Hurts.” 

“I know, honey.” Christine says, carefully adjusting your left arm. “I’ll give you more pain meds once we get to the cottage.” 

“We’ll be there in half an hour.” John says, glancing up at the rearview mirror again before turning his eyes back to the road. 

The half hour seems to take the longest as you continue to become more and more lucid and aware. The pain sets in first, your brain picking up on those signals before anything else. John’s knuckles are white around the steering wheel as you begin to whine and whimper around every bend in the road and turn he has to make, every jostle of the car. Every instinct in his body tells him to pull over and comfort you, but he can’t. It’s more important to get to the cottage, and there’s no guarantee you’d even let him. It might make things worse. 

The last thing you need right now is for things to get worse. 

Christine breathes a sigh of relief as they pull up to the cottage, glad she can finally get you somewhere more comfortable. You’ve been in far too many uncomfortable positions today, moved around too much. She would have liked to keep you in Texas a couple more days, but she knew as soon as you were able to travel, the better. The sooner they could get off the grid, the better. 

The sooner they could get out of Texas, the better. 

Kyle is getting the wheelchair out of the trunk when Johnny and Simon pull up, not having been far behind. They likely took a turn around the back roads to ensure no one was following and to keep things from looking too suspicious. 

Christine keeps you from slumping out of the car as she carefully opens the door on your side. You’re more awake than you were, blinking up at her with almost startlingly aware eyes.

“Crutch.” You pout when she pulls the wheelchair closer. 

She gives you a look. “Honey I'm not sure you could even stand right now.” You may be more aware, but that doesn’t mean your body is working as it should.

You let out a defiant noise as you attempt to get your legs out of the car, trying to hide your grunts of pain and discomfort. 

She's tempted to stand there and let you try, but she knows all hell will break loose if she lets you fall. She's not willing to take that risk, not to mention it will cause you more pain to get you up off the ground. 

“Come on,” She says, stopping you before you can get your feet under you. “Nice and slow.” 

You let out a quiet growl of indignation but you allow her to help you, your legs trembling as she eases you up. Kyle is there with the wheelchair, getting it as close to you as possible so she can sit you down quickly. 

“Ow.” You breathe, eyes pinched closed as you breathe through the pain. 

“I know.” She says, patting your good shoulder lightly. She's glad she put you in the sweatshirt before you left Texas. It's chilly outside, chillier than it was further inland a few days ago. 

It's hard to believe it's only been a few days since you were taken. Barely even a week. So much happened in such a short period of time. It feels like it’s been weeks since everything started, but then again, it had been weeks since John and Kyle first left. It had been weeks since you had been around your whole pack together by the time you were taken. The deep depression you sunk into before the events of the last week had been draining you slowly for weeks before this. It had started before John and Kyle were deployed, back to that day when you revealed the cameras and the secret you had been hiding from them. 

How long you’ve gone in such turmoil. 

How far you still have to go. 

The path up to the door is rocky and uneven, the wheelchair jostling as she pushes it up towards the door. She can picture your face, the way it has to be screwed up in pain. You're silent though, holding it all in. She almost wishes you weren't being silent about it. 

The door is already open, light shining from inside as she approaches. Kyle is in the house already, having gone ahead to greet his sister. John is right behind the two of you as Christine turns to wheel you up the steps into the house. His eyes are on you, focused and ready should you fall.  

Christine would never let you fall, and from the way your hand is gripping the arm of the chair for dear life, you probably couldn't anyway. 

She wheels you through the entryway, the inside warmer thanks to a fire that's burning. It's a nice cottage, far nicer than she had been expecting judging from the outside. 

Johnny lets out a low whistle as he enters behind John, looking around. “Yer parents own this?” 

“It was given to our mum by our grandparents. They did some...renovations before they passed it on.” Kyle says. 

“Yer tellin’ me.” Johnny says. 

It looks new inside. New wood floors, freshly painted walls. The furniture looks like she would expect to find in an English seaside cottage, though. Kyle’s parents went to France for summer vacation instead of utilizing the cottage, and none of his siblings had wanted to use it, he told them. It looks almost perfect, like it came right out of a home renovation show. Kyle’s sister must have worked some sort of magic to get it this clean. 

It is a very nice cottage. It’s small, the door opening right to the main area. There’s two couches and a chair in the middle of the room around a coffee table. To the left of the couches is a fireplace, the fire already lit and crackling. It looks original, likely having been untouched in the renovations. There’s a door to the left of the fireplace closer to the main entryway. A bedroom maybe? To the right of the front door are two doors, one on the far wall and one facing the front door. 

The stairs are in the middle of the house, leading up to the second floor where there’s likely more bedrooms. On the far side of the main area is the dining area and beyond that is a sliding glass door. Around the corner on the far side of the stairs is likely the kitchen. She can see the fridge from where she’s standing. It’s new. Very new. Makes her wonder just how long ago it had been renovated. 

“Everyone, this is my sister Ashley.” Kyle says, introducing the other woman in the room. 

“Hello,” she says, giving everyone a wave and a dazzling smile. 

She’s dressed simply in jeans and a t-shirt, her medium box braids pulled up into a bun on top of her head. They look a lot alike, her and Kyle. Tall and slender and stunning. They have the same smile and the same soft brown eyes. She's wearing scent blockers, but Christine can imagine her having a soft scent like lavender or something fresh like mint. 

“There's two rooms down here, and two upstairs.” Kyle says. “The main bedroom is through there.” He points towards a door to their left. “I figure we'll give that to our omega. The bathroom in there has a walk-in shower.” 

“Perfect.” Christine says. That will make getting you in and out of the shower easier at least, and you won’t have to go far to use the bathroom.

“You should take the other room down here.” John says, looking at Christine. “So you can be close in case of an emergency.”

And so you don't have to be too close to them, so you won’t feel like they’re hovering.

He doesn't have to say that part out loud. 

“I put new sheets on all the beds.” Ashley says. “I also picked up everything Kyle sent on the list. Food, some clothes, some other necessities.”

You let out a quiet groan, Christine patting your head gently. You have to be exhausted and sore after the day. She should give you another dose of pain medicine like she said she would. You’re going to need it tonight. 

“Let's get you laying down for a bit.” She says, wheeling you towards the door. 

Kyle opens it for her, revealing a spacious room with a big window looking out towards the sea. You're going to spend a lot of time in front of that window, she thinks. The bed is in the middle of the room, and there’s two chairs facing the window. She’s almost tempted to sit you in one of the chairs, but laying down will be more comfortable for you right now. 

You're still too out of it now to care much as she wheels you to the double bed. With Kyle's help they get you horizontal, Christine draping the blanket at the end of the bed over you. It’s not very soft, but it will do for now. She’ll have to get the guys to pick up some soft blankets for you when they go to town. She has a whole list of things starting in her head she needs them to pick up.

She leans your crutch against the end of the bed just in case you might need it for an emergency. She hopes you’ll yell first, but you always have been stubborn. Being mostly bed-bound has only made that worse. 

“I’m going to go look through the things Ashley picked up.” She says, patting your leg gently. “Get some rest.” 

Christine leaves the door open a crack as she exits, wanting to give you a little privacy as you nap, or at least she hopes you’ll nap. It’s going to be a rough adjustment, and you’re going to need as much rest as you can get. 

“I’m assuming you’re Christine.” Ashley says, walking up to her. 

“I am.” She says, giving Ashley a smile. 

She can’t help but get lost in Ashley’s soft gaze for a moment. The Garrick siblings seem to share the same magnetic energy. There’s something almost ethereal about them. She could easily imagine them with glowing halos and angel wings. It’s almost like she’s being blessed with the opportunity to look upon her. She could spend an hour staring at Ashley’s face and not grow tired of looking at her.

“I picked up the items Kyle said you needed.” She says, motioning to the bags on the coffee table, pulling Christine out of her daze. “I couldn’t find the exact nutrient powder you asked for, so I got one that was as close as I could find.” 

Christine glances through the bags. She was thorough, getting at least two of everything. 

“I got warmer clothes for her too, since it can get chilly out here this time of year. Just some simple things for now until you guys get into town.” Ashley says. “I did some research too and I read that omegas like comforting things so I picked up some extra blankets and pillows” Ashley says, motioning to a couple bags sitting on the couch. “I also picked up this,” She pulls a stuffed dog from one of the bags, holding it up. “It was the softest one I could find. I thought it might help.” 

A small smile forms on Christine’s face, her heart fluttering in her chest from the sweet, thoughtful gesture. Ashley doesn’t even know you, nor did she know exactly what happened to you, and yet she went so far as to pick up some comfort items for you. You have nothing right now, only the borrowed clothes on your back. All of your belongings are still on base, all of the things that you had built to make your perfect nest. Would you want any of them still? Or have they been tainted by the events of the last few weeks? 

That Ashley thought to do this has warmth flooding Christine’s body. You can have some comfort now without having to wait for their trip to town. She almost feels the urge to cry. She wants to hug Ashley, thank her over and over for her kindness. Ashley has no idea how much her small act of kindness means, how much it's going to mean. 

A smile forms on Christine’s face as she stares at the stuffed dog. “It’s perfect.” 

You can hear it. 

In the distance, the quiet roar reaches your ears as you’re dragged from the sweet arms of sleep. It must be a dream, or perhaps the sedative is still clinging to your mind, making you imagine things. 

No. 

You’d know that sound anywhere. 

The effort to push yourself up to sit is a momentous one, every cell in your body protesting after a day of being moved and jostled. The last thing you want is to move right now, but you have to. 

The pain meds have done little to help.

The crutch at the end of your bed must be a thousand miles away as you sit there and stare at it. The ache in your body only increases as you become more and more aware of the pain, almost as if it can tell what it is your mind is planning. 

The door is cracked open, letting in a slit of light from outside. It’s dark in the room, the curtains pulled over the window. It’s a blessing compared to the bright yellow light outside the door. You welcome the darkness as your head begins to throb. You could call for assistance. You’d get more help than you needed. More help than you want. 

No. 

You need to do this. 

The effort it takes to get standing nearly sends you back onto the bed. The pain nearly blinds you as your feet touch the floor, your body leaning against the side of the mattress out of desperation. If you fall, you’ll never be alone again. You can’t afford that. You don’t want that. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

The breaths out of your nose are short and sharp as you reach for the crutch, fingers trembling in the effort to fight the pain threatening to blind you. You’re trembling like a leaf in a storm as your fingers finally wrap around the cool metal. The rubber bottom drags across the floor as you tug it over to you, holding it against your chest for a moment. 

Breathe. That’s what you need to do. Breathe. 

In and out. 

Nice and slow. 

The pain is only a memory. The pain is nothing. The memories forming at the edges of your mind will take over and wipe out the pain and the misery. You just have to be sure. You just have to be certain.

You push yourself upright using the crutch, tucking it under your arm. You should go back to bed. You should rest. 

No. 

You need to know. 

You need to be certain.

The first step you take nearly makes you sick. 

It’s like watching a baby deer walk for the first time, knees wobbling, feet shaking. You lean heavily on the crutch, your determination the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the floor in a heap. That might almost hurt worse than forcing yourself to stand upright. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Inch by inch you move across the floor, silently grateful for the socks on your feet. They allow you to slide across the hardwood, but they also pose a threat. Slide too far and you’ll lose your feet. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

The determination and your desire for certainty is what keeps you sliding inch by inch across the floor towards that strip of blinding light in front of you. It’s hovering before you, threatening you. How do you know there’s not one of them standing guard, waiting for you to try and leave? You can’t know. You don’t have a clue what’s waiting on the other side of that door. It could be nothing. It could be your entire pack. 

Breathe. 

In and out. 

You take a moment at the door, resting your aching feet. Your body is throbbing from the effort to keep yourself upright, the sedative still numbing your brain and your movements. It’s like treading through honey, everything twice as hard as it should be. You can walk. You’ve done it before. You did it in the medical center. 

You can do it here. 

You use the crutch to push the door open more, your free arm still tucked in a sling to keep you from moving it. Reaching for it with that arm would have put you on the floor, would have caused more pain than you needed, would have made you fall. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Breathe. 

The light burns. Explosions of yellows and whites erupt behind your eyelids as you screw them tight against the sudden onslaught. The sun is in the room, shining its rays directly into your sensitive eyes. Your stomach churns, your fingers tightening around the crutch so tight your knuckles begin to ache. The oppressive light makes you want to recede back into the darkness of the room behind you like a vampire shying away from the light of day. 

No. 

You won’t be defeated by the harsh artificial lighting. You need to know. 

You need to be certain.

The others are moving around. You can hear voices around the corner, voices upstairs with thudding footsteps. The air is thick with a mesh of scents, cleaning chemicals, and the burn of scent blocker. Your nose wrinkles at the sudden onslaught against your senses, your sedated brain making it all seem so much worse. 

You need to know. 

The hardwood floors continue and you use them to your advantage as you shuffle your way across the main area. The fire crackles as you pass, the popping of a log making you startle. Your feet slide again, your body pushing up against the crutch to hold yourself steady. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Your target is dead ahead, a mile away but so close you can almost taste it. Just past the dining table and straight on till morning. 

Despite your snail’s pace, no one seems to notice you shuffling your way across the house. It should make you upset, the fact that none of them notice you moving around, but instead it makes you glad. They’d try to stop you if they noticed you, turn you around and shuffle you back to bed. Or worse, they’d carry you. 

How easily you could slip away, though. 

Well...in theory. 

Perhaps that’s why they ‘re not paying you any mind. How far could you really go in your current state? 

Why would you want to stray from the only safe space you have? 

The world outside is more dangerous with the state you’re in. Not just because of your injuries and your status, but also because you know Shepherd is still out there, and for all you know Graves is as well. 

He could be waiting right outside the door. 

No. 

They’d know. 

They’d protect you. 

They failed. 

You push past the fear in favor of certainty as you push forward, passing the dining table in your slow crawl towards the sliding glass door. 

It poses an entirely new threat as you stand before it, staring out the darkened glass. You have to get it open. Getting it open takes strength and you’re down to one hand that’s trying to keep you upright. 

You have to know. 

You have to be certain. 

You lean your weight on the crutch, ignoring the way it digs into your armpit as you reach for the handle. You click the lock, wrapping your fingers around the plastic before pulling. Your body screams with pain as you tug, the door sliding in the track as slowly as you had moved across the small living area. It’s almost as if it's mocking you. 

It’s open only as wide as you need to crutch your way through, doing your best not to knock your left shoulder against the frame. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

Breathe. 

You can smell it. 

The salty sea air invades your senses, slipping up through your nose and straight into your brain. Memories come flooding back of childhood vacations back when things were simpler. Back when nothing mattered but the sand and the water and avoiding getting chased by your brothers carrying the piece of seaweed they found. 

Polkadot bathing suits, bright red to be seen easily. Toes in the water, sand everywhere. The nap in the silent car home. 

How simple life was back then. How easy life was. 

Your heart aches for those days again. The days when you could exist without a care in the world, trusting your pack would keep you safe, trusting your family would care for you. Your mind yearns for that sense of safety and security again. 

The world is grey as you hobble across the porch, the grey seeming to go on forever. You missed it, the chill in the air, the gloomy grey overhead. How you yearned for the gloom of England while stuck in the heat of Texas. 

Anything is better than Texas. 

Your forward shuffle pauses at the edge of the deck, your eyes looking out into the grey. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare out into the distance, the ache in your chest intensifying. It blocks out the pain in your body, numbing you to everything else as you stand there, legs trembling from the effort of going the short distance from your room to the end of the porch. 

You can see it. 

Emotions swirl inside of you like a hurricane as you stare out where the grey water meets the grey sky in the line of the horizon. Those emotions threaten to choke you as you stand there trembling at the edge of the porch. There’s a breeze, a cold one that bites through the fabric of your sweatshirt and into the skin below, but you don’t care. 

You can’t care. 

Your legs shake from the exertion, the neverending exhaustion that’s settled deep into your bones. It’s not just a physical exhaustion, but a mental one as well. It’s been a long week. 

Only a week. 

So much has happened in a week. 

You want to sit. You want to sink down onto the porch and rest. 

If you fall, you’ll never get up again. 

There’s a pain in your chest as your breath catches in your throat. The emotions are whirling, tightening around your chest, squeezing your lungs until they feel like they might pop. 

Breathe. 

In and out. 

You needed certainty. You needed to know. 

You can hear it. You can smell it. You can see it. 

A single tear rolls down your cheek as you stare out at the sea. 

NEXT ->

To be notified about new chapters, please follow HERE and turn on notifications

[northern-passage]

The Northern Passage has been updated!

09.25.24: This update consists of what was previously the prologue; it's now our new Chapter 1. Heavy edits have been made and various scenes have been rewritten, as well as overall improvements with the combat system and lore to make the game more cohesive.

The demo, for the time being, will cut off at the end of this new Chapter 1. My plan is to continue editing and rewriting Chapter 2 (what was previously the first chapter after the prologue) and hopefully rerelease that relatively soon, and then complete the new content update and release all of Chapter 3. This process, while tedious, is helping me tremendously with streamlining code & fixing previous mistakes made by me when I first started this project, and while I wanted to avoid going back and editing originally until much later in the process, this is just something that I had to do in order to move forward with Chapter 3.

I've also updated the content warnings on the game page and allowed for players to turn on warnings in-game, so you get a more specific list of warnings at the start of each chapter (like with Blood Choke).

As always, please let me know if you run into any errors, especially since part of this rewrite included me redoing a lot of my messy code and renaming passages, etc. Thank you everyone for your patience and continued support of this game over the years 💕

Play it here!

Project Intro | FAQ | Tip Jar

[loverofpiggies]

Beginning | Previous | Next

Beginning | Previous | Next

I struggled pretty heavily writing this chapter, and reworked it a few times.

Also sorry this update was a little later! New backgrounds, PLUS I've been playing a lot of Echoes of Wisdom. It's a lot of fun.

Enjoy!

EDIT: Fixed the first page, I forgot his gloves!

Check out my etsy shop if you want to!

[stxrvel]

intrusive (4)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. THIS IS EDITED!! there are new scenes!! 16/9. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! sadness, lots of mixed feelings, self-hatred, flashbacks, flashbacks. a/n. hi guysssssssssss. its been a while, i know and im so sorry. i hope this chapter doesn't feel too rushed. truth be told, between life issues and that i've been having trouble with inspiration for scenes it took me a while to build this, but surprisingly i'm pleased with the result. now, where do you think we're going and what will we do from here on out?????? surprises come, surprises go. thank you all for your continued support!! i really appreciate the feedback from all of you and reading your comments makes my days. for those who are still here, thank you. see you next time!

series masterlist | bts masterlist | previous | next

There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments that kept your hair standing on end every so often or every time you remembered. They were like gaps, things you didn't know how they had gotten there, how they had happened, or how someone else knew. And you were accumulating them, suspicious, somewhat delusional and paranoid if you asked anyone, but they were held in that space in the back of your head waiting for the right moment to come out.

Between moments of lucidity and memories of the past, there were many things you had superficially let slip by.

Yuna was in front of you, her brow furrowed in concentration and her eyes almost square from the amount of time she had already spent in front of the computer. You had been at it all day, so the moment your friend appeared like it was her own living room and everyone acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary, you just plopped down on the couch with a calm expression, waiting for the perfect moment to let certain things out, to ask certain questions.

There were moments of enlightenment, there were moments of brilliant discoveries. And that day you had discovered something you had forgotten because of the brevity of its recognition, but in retrospect it was something worth knowing, even if there were still too many things, more important things, of which you were ignorant. At that moment, all gathered in the living room of your parents' house, the most important thing was what was on your mind.

“Yuna.”

Your friend barely shook her head in acknowledgement of her name. Your parents were arranging the table in the middle of the couches to settle lunch, surely a big feast like every other day for the past few days and the only reason Seojun took virtual classes that day, and your brother was ogling the dishes with his mouth ajar. Eugh.

But none of them were paying too much attention. Food, social media, ordering, direct messaging, arranging the geometrically correct dishes… everyone had their heads in their own world, and that's why you could hear the moment your father's hair touched the ground when you asked:

“You were the one who set up my book booth at the last convention?”

Four pairs of eyes bore into you.

“What?”

You looked at her expectantly, not letting the mischief interfere with your plans.

“No…! I didn't-I mean, what are you talking about?”

Yuna let out a nervous laugh, just after correcting herself when she got a blunt look from your mother. Your father stood stiffly behind his wife, the frying pan in his hands wobbling so clearly that a few drops of the soup dripped onto the wood of the floor. Your mother leaned over, leaving the plate she was carrying on the table, sending Seojun a look that caused him to swallow his saliva sonorously.

The scene was so comical that you really had a hard time not bursting out laughing.

“It's just that when I talked to Sol this morning she commented something…”

You let the words hover in the air, straining them each time it came to one of them. Yuna straightened up, completely forgetting about the computer for a second, peeling her back off the couch where she was leaning on the floor. Your father snorted in surprise so hard that he was attacked by a cough and your mother had to take the frying pan away from him before he watered down all the soup from all the shaking. Seojun hid behind your mother's legs and you just plopped down on the couch, stretching your legs over the armrest, satisfied with their reactions.

“And what did she say to you, honey?”

Your mother was the most composed, finishing arranging the dishes around the pan while your father had run out to the living room for a glass of water. Among the foursome, your mother was the only one who truly knew what dissimulation meant. You had no doubt that her sisterhood with the others in the room would end once you told them you already knew everything.

“She told me she was afraid I hadn't been able to see what you had done for me,” you frowned looking up at the ceiling, looking genuinely confused. “And it was weird, because we were talking about the last convention.”

Yuna let out a laugh, incredulous.

“And why would you be talking about that with Sol?”

Putting the antics aside, you stood up on your forearms and glared at her.

“Why did you do that?”

“What did I do?”

“Sol told me it was your idea.”

“That's not true!”

“Ah…” you held a hand to your forehead, as if you had just remembered something important. Your gaze swept around the room and Seojun cringed when your eyes landed on him. “True. She said it had been your idea.”

Before Yuna could send a warning glance at your brother, Seojun raised his hand and pointed at your friend, exclaiming:

“It was her idea! It was all Yuna's idea! Tell her mom!”

The two aforementioned closed their eyes, taking a deep breath and bringing their fingers to the bridge of their noses. Their expressions of ennui were unmatched and promptly Seojun was cringing for a completely different reason.

“You're such a jerk,” Yuna mumbled, almost barking in the direction of the poor man seeking to escape his mother's lethal gaze. Instantly, your friend turned her gaze in your direction, meeting that amused look that curled her annoyance just for a millisecond. “I thought you'd be more upset.”

“I was,” you lifted a shoulder, leaning back against the back of the couch as you listened to the string of scoldings your mom was in between yelling and whispering to your brother. “But it's impossible not to see reason when you're talking to someone like Sol.

Yuna also nodded in consideration. It was something that, not just the two of you, but all of Sol's workers agreed with. Sol had a warmth about her, a homely feel to her that made you automatically trust her and take it for granted that, if she told you everything would work out, it was because it would; whether it was by chance of the universe or because she would see to it that it did.

“Then it was a good thing you heard it from her mouth and not your inept brother's,” Yuna sent her another withering glare and you couldn't help the smile that twitched your corners as you watched your mother move the bowl of tteokbokki away from her grasp. It was so funny to see that he didn't always get the baby of the house treatment for a change.

“Were you planning on taking that to your grave?”

Yuna turned, arching her eyebrows. With her lips set in a thin line, you knew she was thinking about choosing the right words to answer you, even though that thing they'd done had led directly to the fact that, at that moment, you'd been able to afford the luxury of asking for vacation for the first time and focusing on what you truly loved to do. Even if they had worked behind your back, the result had not been so fatal.

If you took a few unwanted people out of the equation, that is.

Your friend finally softened her gaze.

“No, I knew you'd find out at some point. From whoever's mouth. A secret can only be kept from so many people.” Yuna rolled her eyes, moving to listen to your father complain from the kitchen. “But I didn't think Sol would tell you so openly. Was it on purpose?”

“Yes. I think she was trying to convince me or make up for something. I'm not sure which.”

Yuna raised her eyebrows, cocking her head in tension for barely a second. If not for the years you'd known her, you probably would've interpreted her short-lived reaction as genuine curiosity, the desire for a tidbit of gossip. But your friend's tension was palpable and it was something that left you wondering a bit, especially when she didn't speak until your father returned to the kitchen.

“Honey, I think I'm going to get a sore throat.”

There were too many loose ends to tie up. There were too many empty spaces, too many misunderstood moments. There were too many things you were still ignorant of and had no idea about; things far beyond what was happening in the present.

There were things you still didn't understand, like why and how Jeon Jungkook, the country's most famous idol and probably one of the celebrities most likely to have easiest facial recognition on the street, had so stealthily stumbled upon your whereabouts or why he had acted as if seeing you again was a reunion with his lost puppy from years ago.

“Are you still upset, noona?”

Seojun watched you warily, your sidelong glance leading him to cower once more behind your father. With lunch settled and the tension gone (barely), you all had been able to enjoy an enjoyable moment. After all, the dense atmosphere that still lingered was only due to the fact that teasing Seojun was fun and more satisfying when you had no reason to do so.

It all came from a great consideration that your family, and even Sol, had for you, trying to support you however they could, even if you didn't even seek their help. As much as you wanted to (and didn't really want to) there wasn't much reason to get angry. Less so when the outcome, likewise, had been favorable.

“We should focus on what's important,” Yuna dipped her spoon into the almost non-existent conversation, finishing her meal and leaving the plate practically glistening, to which your mother was able to sketch a satisfied smile. “We have a meeting this afternoon.”

“Ah. Yes,” Seojun nodded, remembering his place as the second-in-command of the business, because you had actually been relieved of any position you might have held in your own business. “As the person in charge of the treasury of this company, I must admit that the decision made is the most appropriate and in our best interests.”

Yuna narrowed her eyes, seeming it was almost impossible for her to ignore your brother's annoying presence.

“What have you contributed to this business to call yourself the person in charge of the treasury?”

“I've done a lot for this project! Besides, you are focused on advertising. You should be in charge of the public relations department.”

“And I can't handle both?!”

“I set up all the lines of communication with the delivery people and organized the accounts with Dad!” Seojun pulled Dad's shirt collar, pulling him close to his face with a frown. Your dad only let him be, as he savored a wing. “You took charge of net with mom. We can't reverse charges now. Experience and reality speak for themselves.”

Yuna clicked her tongue, irritated.

“Whatever,” shaking her head, she flipped the computer on the table so Seojun and your parents could get a good look at the proposal you had accepted, after arduous study over the weekend as a family. “After a long board meeting, which stretched over the entire weekend, this was the accepted offer.”

You could almost see the zeros running in your brother's eyes, with a budding smile making its way across his face. Your parents looked pleased, proud. And Yuna kept that determined expression; she was really taking all this seriously and you didn't know yet how you could thank her for it.

“Ah…” your mother sighed, holding a hand to her chest. “It's finally happening.”

When she sent you that look with the sparkling eyes you couldn't help but shrink back on your spot on the floor.

“Mom, I think it's best we avoid getting too excited until we've signed.”

Your mother nodded, closing her eyes and breathing to keep her composure.

“Accepted the offer, we were summoned to their facility, which is where we will be heading after resting from this delicious lunch.” Yuna smiled radiantly in your mother's direction. Sometimes you wondered if she wasn't missed at home. But… no, she was much better off here.

“My children have to rest very well to make the best decisions at that meeting,” your mother nodded, stroking Yuna's hair superficially and getting up to pick up the dishes. Seojun got up to help her, but your father stopped him, keeping the warm smile on his face. Of all of them, your father was the most expressive, but you knew that at that moment he was holding back only because at the slightest he would burst into tears. And yes, with a simple glance in your direction, his eyes watered and he had to run away hugging the dishes against his chest.

Seojun sighed dramatically.

“I wish they had been this excited when I entered college.”

Yuna moved across the table, smacking him on the forehead that left him with an instant redness.

“What are you talking about, idiot? You celebrated all weekend.”

Seojun didn't respond, touching his forehead with a grimace. Yuna snorted, not believing your brother's audacity, and turned her focus back to the contents of the proposal you had received from Noble Publishing Apgujeong. You still remembered the screams that had echoed throughout the house when they found the letter from that publishing house in the mail, the most prestigious and probably the highest one could aspire to in the world of writing and for the purposes of editing and publishing. There wasn't a book published under that publishing house that wasn't a success, and that they had sought you out themselves was a great privilege.

“Speaking of celebrations,” Seojun took the floor again, when your parents had finished taking the dishes away and agreed that you would wash them all together before youo left for the publishing house, because nothing was good enough, ”I don't think we've had a moment to at least pop a champagne and celebrate this.”

Your parents remained thoughtful, but you were already shaking your head when Yuna spoke:

“It's true,” her frown said she couldn't believe they hadn't done it yet, but between so many chores, to-dos and new things you were discovering on this new path, you couldn't just take the luxury of doing nothing for a few hours. There was a lot to work on. “We should do it after the meeting. With the contract at home, it will be much better!”

Your father and Seojun cheered in agreement and your mother gave a few claps.

“You're working tomorrow, Yuna.”

“So what?” your friend frowned at you. “Do you think it'll be the first time I've gone to work with a hangover?”

Your mom's throat clearing startled her, and she quickly melted like pudding with a sheepish grin.

“But this time it will be for a good cause…and it won't happen again.”

Your mom nodded, not very convinced.

“Incidentally,” Yuna regained her posture, sending a glare at Seojun, ”we could have y/n finally watch the video reactions of her books.”

“You haven't seen them?” Seojun exclaimed and suddenly the four pairs of eyes felt very threatening.

“… no…”

“Mom?? Did you hear that?!”

“Sweetheart!” your father exclaimed, looking at you as if he had heard that you did something worthy of banishment. “Why haven't you seen the videos, don't you know the good things they say about you?”

“The compliments,” your mother nodded. “Almost the entire internet loves your books.”

“That's an exaggeration, mom…”

“How did you even avoid all that hype?” Seojun asked, leaning over the table. “Even Dad's TikTok wasn't spared, and he only watches National Geographic videos.”

“…I muffled a few words.”

A roar of incredulous refusals followed your words and promptly everyone was moving to corner you against the couch so you had no escape.

“There is no time to waste.” Seojun nodded in Yuna's direction and it offended you too much that the only times they agreed was to do something against you.

“Mrs. l/n, I think dessert will be popcorn,” Yuna moved her computer closer to the center of the table as Seojun settled in behind you, each of your parents on your sides as your friend opened the TikTok web app.

“Hey, no… no. I'm not ready to watch this. I'm not-”

“Nonsense, noona. Even better, this will give you a big confidence boost for the meeting this afternoon.”

You didn't believe Seojun at all. Your nerves were on edge as Yuna moved to sit next to your brother and the first words of the first video echoed in the living room:

“My honest opinion of the A Million Swords trilogy…”

-

“Do you think I might publish any of these one day?”

Your fingers drummed on the keyboard of the desktop computer, watching the letters spinning a story that no one yet knew. No one, except for you and Taehyung at that moment. His gaze was confused as his dark eyes hid behind the dark, unruly, damp locks of his hair. For a pool day, you couldn't have had a better time than writing parts of your still unfinished story, the one you used to run away to when you had a whole reality to mold in front of you. Maybe you should have paid a little more attention back then; attention to details, to gestures, to distances, to forced smiles; maybe if you had paid that kind of attention you would have been able to foresee everything that would happen later… maybe then it wouldn't have hurt so much.

But at that moment, at 14, you could only see with stars in your eyes the enormous possibility that you thought writing would open up for you; the world you were about to discover, much farther away than you thought.

That weekend the pool party was at your house. Jimin had brought a gigantic inflatable pool withJungkook and they all kept splashing water in each other's eyes in the backyard. In your prolonged absence, surely, Taehyung had ventured inside the house to the only place he would know you would be if it wasn't next to them.

“Do I think? I'm absolutely sure.”

Taehyung shook the droplets slipping from the ends of his hair all over your face.

“Tae!”

“Why are you doubting it?”

“I never said I was doubting it.”

Your friend took one of the armchairs that each of the boys had recast in your room, which no matter how much you pulled them out always ended up there again, to sit next to you and watch the unfinished paragraphs on the computer screen. There were four armchairs already gathering dust in the corner of the room that you still hadn't had the heart to take them out.

“Look at that,” the brown-haired man moved his face closer to the screen, splashing more water on you, with a mischievous grin. “It was desire that stirred me, far beyond the reach of reason or any cognitive faculty. In the depths of my being, I knew with unshakable certainty that I was right. Their gaze scrutinized my every expression, searching for ways to break me, while their fingers, far from innocent, accused me relentlessly. Yet, even as the weight of their scrutiny bore down on me, there was no realm, no dimension in this vast, boundless universe where I had not chosen him above all else. Not even as the streets ignited, the houses crumbled to ashes, and the roar of thunder drowned out the cries for mercy…who writes like that?”

“y/n!”

Your other two friends appeared, reveling in the unapproved reading of the first draft of your first novel, and you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

You moved quickly to press the off button and your friends barely let out a short laugh.

“Don't ever do that again.”

“Then don't ever doubt you again.”

“I wasn't doubting! It was just a question…”

“She just wants you to be honest, Tae.” Jimin entered the room, moving right behind his friend and flashing a smile that made your hair stand on end.

“Honest...?”

“Shut up, Jimin.”

The aforementioned barely let out a laugh, under the scrutinizing and confused expressions of his other two friends.

“What do you mean?” Jungkook spoke, trying to gain ground in that unfamiliar room, clasping his hands in front of him in nervousness. He didn't even understand why he was nervous, he just knew he didn't like the obfuscated expression on your face.

“Nothing, Junkookie, Jimin's just an idiot who only knows how to spout rubbish.”

“Rubbish? Where do you even get those words from?”

“I learned it yesterday in literature class!”

“Uh-huh…”

“Stop it, Jimin!”

-

He wasn't a person to be caught off guard. His cautious attitude was something he had developed over time; with the experience of going through and surviving difficult situations; with the toughness of making strong decisions and constantly bearing the burden of being at fault for their consequences.

So no, Min Yoongi took it upon himself to plan things around him so meticulously that every aspect of his life had a place and a time; an hour and a second.

A planning so perfect that at that moment it was slipping through his hands like sand. His friend… no, Dohyun could do nothing but rest his hands against his desk sending him an obfuscated look, trying to look almost as disgruntled as Yoongi was at what he had learned would happen in that office.

“Of all the things I thought you could tell me…” Choi Dohyun shook his head, and on his face Yoongi could tell there were no words that could qualify his surprise. But he was surprised too, to be honest. He didn't know how he had summoned the fortitude to move so quickly from across town, from his study, to arrive at Dohyun's office and blurt that out to his face as if it were any Tuesday afternoon, as if he were simply inviting him to dinner at his house. “I've never underestimated you, Yoongi-ah, but this…”

“Who contacted you?”

“Who contacted me?” Dohyun let out a laugh, which felt a little heavy to Yoongi as he shifted his weight on his feet. “What makes you think I can't recognize a good deal from a distance when I see one? They call me the Shark for a reason, don't you think? I smell business like they smell blood in the sea.”

Yoongi clasped his hands at his sides, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Dohyun, who looked up and barely ran his tongue over his teeth before plopping back down on his ergonomic chair.

“The decision is already made,” was all he said to him, generating a flutter of emotions inside Yoongi.

“Who contacted you?” Yoongi insisted, feeling time slipping through his fingers. “How did you find out about… this?”

Dohyun let out a laugh, bordering on sarcasm and disbelief. Yoongi would've taken more time to think about it there, to ponder what he was doing, what his impulses were pushing him to do. But within the framework of his decisions and conflicting feelings, Yoongi had taken a path that he could no longer undo and the least he could do was avoid was to generate collateral damage to someone. Just for the chance to try, even though the probability of having the universe in his favor was microscopic, he decided not to give in to reason.

Maybe he would still be the villain in someone else's story, but in his conscience… maybe… maybe he was right and was looking for no way to excuse himself; to excuse things he could no longer change; to excuse behaviors he could no longer erase and decisions he could no longer undo.

Perhaps, too, it was the price he had to pay for what he had done. For what he had said; for what he had not said; for what he had done and what he had not done; for his action and his omission; for his perpetration and complicity. If Yoongi had known that time in his twenties that such a decision would have taken things so far, so close to the impossibility of healing, he surely would not have made it .

But to regret now, what good would it do him? To mutter apologies now, what good would it do him? To dig through the fibers of an unbridled heart, what good would it do him?

“Yoongi. I am the head of the largest publishing house in this country. If you thought I was going to see fluttering around the internet this opportunity in a million and as an entrepreneur and investor I wasn't going to take it, who are you taking me for?”

He should've dragged Namjoon away when he saw him in the parking lot, because business was his forte and not Yoongi's. Yoongi might as well cringe at Dohyun's words because how was he going to refute them. He had come with fortitude, yes. He had come with resolve and determination, yes; believing that this decision was the right thing to do, the least he could do right. And yet, at that crucial moment, with everything against him and the swords at his neck, Yoongi had his arms crossed again.

Maybe he should've dragged Namjoon along, but… how would he know if he was on his side?

“But don't worry. I'll try to keep you apart. You know I always separate personal matters from my work.”

Dohyun was a professional liar. If telling lies were a profession, Dohyun would quadruple the fortune he now boasts as the owner of the country's largest publishing house. Yoongi hated the way he covered up his poisonous words with honey, as if he couldn't see through the thin texture of the liquid how everything was corroding around him. And Dohyun was not his friend, if he wasn't sure before, he was now.

It's business, Namjoon would say, as rational and objective as ever; a businessman can't have someone around who attacks his vision, his business, that's an enemy.

Yoongi right now was a blob of green soup on Dohyun's pole, about to walk to an important meeting where he would close a million-dollar deal. His insignificance bordered on indescribability, but his diminutive presence was big enough to be considered a splinter in the foot.

The phone rang, breaking the tension in the atmosphere, and instead of answering it, Dohyun sent a glance toward the oak doors and then to Yoongi's limp body. Clasping his hands once again, it shook him inside to think that once again he allowed himself to be trampled. Once again, he was going to be the misfortune in someone's life.

“They're already here,” Dohyun almost muttered, an amused expression on his face. “You can leave now or you can stay and watch.”

Yoongi knew he'd be happy to have him there, watching him bite his tongue, trying to swallow his embarrassment. And wouldn't it be simpler to just leave, to brush against the fate he once let slip away as if it were something so trivial that it didn't tear a piece of his soul to even think about it; to brush against an opportunity he missed, selfish and presumptuous, as if he were the only one whose heart was beating with pain that day.

“I've never asked you for anything…”

“And neither have I,” Dohyun interrupted him, raising his gaze serenely, lifting his chin to acerbic dominance. “And all I'm asking you now is to stay out of my business.”

And Yoongi would've had to agree with Namjoon, because business and money definitely change a person. No one can rise to a high position, of Choi Dohyun's level, without having scored a big armory and a few degrees of tough personality willing to kill to get what they want.

“I received you out of courtesy. To Jin. But I won't tolerate another second of this.”

Dohyun mumbled, and the moment he brought the phone to his ear, Yoongi knew he had lost. Again.

“Hyung…” Yoongi closed his eyes, helplessness winning out over reason, the word sour in his mouth.

“No. I'm sorry, but no. It will happen. Just make your decision, I don't want my guests to wait too long.”

He didn't know if the grinding of his teeth was as loud as he heard it in his head. He didn't know if his behavior was over the top or understandable. He didn't know if he had a right to those emotions or if he had lost it more than ten years ago. Well, ten years in her head. He didn't know if he deserved that moment; to share that space and time and catch off guard someone who could become as cautious as he was now; because if Yoongi learned from anyone to be the way he was today, it was because of her.

He didn't know, in retrospect, if he ever made a good decision in his life.

-

i reeaally want to know your thoughts on this one!! re-edited!

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592@yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison @butnotmontana @ismelllikechlorine247 @19yearoldjstryingtolivelife @thatgirliehan @yuuuumii @welcometomyworld13 @sugarbaby69x @whoa-jo @chaotickyrith @dreamerwasfound @darlingz99

[parasitical-if]

...Surprise!

I gave myself a few days to finish up bug-checking and the whole statistic-edits, but I finished before projected. If this ends in there being a lot of missed bugs, then my dearest apologies, but I've just been so eager to share this update with you guys.

Chapter Four is roughly 85.6k words without code, more than doubling the size of the demo. The total wordcount(with code) of the demo is now ~175k words. Without code, it's ~160k, with an average playthrough of 48k words.

I have no definitive information on whether this will break saves - my guess is not completely, but the best experience would be a complete re-playthrough. More information on its contents under the cut! I hope so much that all of you enjoy!

Demo(Dashingdon)

Demo(COGdemos)

Talk to Icarus about their speech.

Prepare for the journey by traveling to either the farms or Jasper's ship.

Decide more about your past and previous relationships. Learn more about others' history as well.

Spend some quality time with someone of your choice.

Customize your hair color(finally!)

On the more technical side of things, personality stats and relationships both should be able to be pushed higher now. Added more variations of description lines in the 'relationships' tab, depending on if you're flirting or not. A few more custom preference options. Changed up a few names in the 'name select' section because I felt they did not fit with the setting.

I've also been fiddling around with numbers and stuff - they're not my strong suit when it comes to writing, especially realistic ones. For example, Dos now has 80,000 people instead of 30,000. If you see a number that's not what you remember, it might still be a typo, but it's also likely that it's one of those things that I've changed.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto's First Kiss Part 7 is IN THE WORKS FRIENDS!!!

Thanks for your patience as always!

Ok y'all I am fully devoted to Shoto's First Kiss Part 7 right now. It is HAPPENING!!!!

This chapter is going to be light on smut, heavy on plot. But fear not!! We are building up for smut in future chapters. You'll see what I mean...

It's going to be part one of The Party scene. You know the one...the Spin The Bottle game that I've been building up to for like 100 pages. It's gonna be hella dramatic and fanservice-y because there will be ships. There will be pairings. There will be SMOOCHES. Who will be smooching!? I can't tell you yet but I think you're gonna love it!

Some hints for the chapter to come:

Shoto is dressed up and hot (not surprising to anyone)

Shinsou is ALSO dressed up and hot (surprising to everyone)

Neito is not really a dick now. We all kinda love him and turns out he's a good friend.

Tokoyami has feelings for someone!?

Mina takes things too far

Toru gets a little krunk for all of TWO MINUTES.

Ojiro has a really slapable ass.

This is all I will reveal for now.

Timeline!?

I don't have a drop date in mind just yet, but I'm thinking within the next 2 weeks (within a fortnight!? lol). I still want to add like 5-10 pages and then edit the hell out of this thing. Right now I'm writing in ridiculous detail and I feel like that might be a little boring for some people so I want to clean it up, add in some jokes, up the drama factor and give our dear Shoto a little more screentime.

As you wait, feel free to check out + re-read the previous chapters (linked below), or any of my latest one shot fics (also linked below). Idk why but I've been writing a lot for Dabi / Touya lately.

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart

Newish Fics from my desk:

Staples. | Dabi/Touya x Reader 🔥🔞

Game On. | Touya x Reader Imagine 🌶

Stress Relief | Katsuki Bakugo x Reader

Izuku Midoriya x Reader | Headcannon: Your First Time Together

Shoto's First Kiss Series:

Part 1: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋

Part 2: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 3: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 3

Part 4: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 4

Part 5: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 5

Part 6: Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 6

[spookyserenades]

Trouvaille - Chapter Seven

Pairing(s); BTS OT7 x Reader

Genre/Themes; Hybrid!AU, themes of the supernatural and the occult, religious themes, violence, hurt/comfort, horror, romance

Rated; 18+ for swearing, violence/gore, future sexual themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Word Count; 22.3k

Trouvaille Masterlist

Trouvaille playlist

Updates on the 7th of each month

Hello darlings, it's Dana! Welcome to Chapter Seven; a pretty jam-packed update. As a warning, this chapter features a lot of angst, some violence, fighting, swearing, and some heated, sensual scenes (more scenting!) I hope you enjoy this emotionally charged update, there is a lot to unpack and process, and it was a chapter that I've spent a lot of time on (both writing AND editing!) I'd love to hear thoughts, feedback, theories and comments from readers as always! Additionally, if you'd like to be added to the taglist; it is still open (just send me a message) and PLEASE make sure that you have your Tumblr settings adjusted so you can be tagged in posts. Thank you for reading and supporting Trouvaille, and enjoy Chapter Seven!

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Ears ringing, Y/N stared at her mother with astonishment, her brain scrambling to come up with a semblance of a response to what her mother had just seen. I wasn’t like Y/N could deny that the vision happened– her mother had part of it right before her eyes. Still, mortification washed over her, unable to process what she had just been told.

“Stop, that can’t be true!” Y/N whisper-shouted at her mother as soon as the glaze over her eyes evaporated, whatever images she saw clearing from her sight. Booze rose up in the back of Y/N’s throat, horrified by the possibility of Taehyung hearing the nonsense coming out of her mother’s mouth. “Tae is sweet, gentle, he’s not how you described him at all! I mean, come on, you’ve met him, he wouldn’t hurt a fly. There’s no way he could ever kill somebody!”

Her mother took a shuddering breath, gliding her hands up Y/N’s arms to hold onto her biceps with concern. Y/N refused to believe what her mother had seen was based in reality; the image of Taehyung’s innocent smile imprinted in her mind’s eye, the way he clung to her side, and his quiet voice in her ear. As the seconds ticked by and the shock wore off, she grew incredulous and impatient with the predicament her mother had put her in– how was she supposed to shrug that off, and pretend everything was perfectly normal when they returned to the backyard?

“Honey, you know that these particular visions of mine nearly always ring true. I need you to be careful around him, be watchful. I agree with you, he’s seemingly lovely, but there’s a darkness that clings to him,” her mother’s features morphed into sympathy, likely reading the worry that was pinching between Y/N’s brows. “A couple of the others have interesting energies, too. The elk hybrid, even dear Seokjin…”

“Mom, please! I can’t do this, not again. I won’t have visions and cards get between myself and the ones I love. This is the exact reason why I stopped reading cards in the first place, it nearly drove all of my friends away growing up!” Y/N snapped, unwilling to hear anything else about her hybrids. If she wanted information about them, she’d wait for them to come forward rather than snooping around with oracle cards. 

“And abandoning your practice didn’t result in something dangerous? Y/N, you’re an adult now, and you know enough about the Craft to realize that once you expose yourself to the other side, you can hardly go back to ignorance of the energies around you,” her mother responded gently, Y/N stiffening with every word. “You don’t think I didn’t know about that spirit that was in the house? I sensed it last week when we came with the groceries. But I knew you’d be able to handle getting rid of it yourself, even though you’ve sworn not to begin practicing again.”

“I didn’t even get rid of it, Jeongguk and Namjoon did! If you knew about it, why didn’t you say anything? You and I could have done a cleansing that afternoon and saved the hybrids from witnessing something I would have rather not put them through! I mean seriously, they probably think I’m nuts!” Y/N hissed in exasperation, feeling her blood pressure rise as her mother dropped her hands from her arms. 

“Because even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have been able to exorcize that spirit. I’m not even sure what it was. Your talents have surpassed mine, even while you weren’t practicing– Y/N, that spirit was kept at bay for years simply because you willfully protected yourself energetically. You let your guard down when you brought those boys home, and that’s why the spirit was able to come into the house,” her mother explained something she was already able to figure out herself, and Y/N barely heard a word. 

She was simmering with rage, trying her best to calm down so she could return to the backyard; she was sure that people (and her hybrids) were wondering where they were. She couldn’t stop thinking about Taehyung. Head spinning, Y/N recalled how Jimin had told her Taehyung had been brought into the shelter in a blood-soaked jacket, his threat level rating on his profile, and the other hybrid’s clear distaste and avoidance of him. A little voice in the back of her head was urging her not to ignore these pieces to the elusive puzzle that made up her Taehyung, but even with all of those puzzle pieces she still couldn’t consider the possibility that the Kodiak hybrid was a dangerous threat. 

“So Namjoon and Jeongguk were able to banish the spirit? How interesting… you know, I’ve never been able to get a very good read on Namjoon, perhaps he’s practiced some kind of–” Her mother began thoughtfully, Y/N cutting her off by holding up her hand.

“Please, can we just drop it for now? I really want to enjoy tonight, the hybrids deserve to have a nice time as well. I’ll drop by you and dad’s next week at some point and we can discuss this more. I’ll heed your warning with Tae, but I still think you’re wrong,” Y/N pulled her mother back towards the garage and the path to the backyard, the latter uncharacteristically clamming up. “If any of the other hybrids ask for readings, could you please just pull them affirmation cards or something?”

“Sure, honey. I didn’t want to upset you, you’ve put so much effort into making the cookout so special this year, I just worry about you. I’m still your mother, after all. And I’m very proud of you, taking a leap of faith and bringing all of these boys home,” her mother murmured into her ear, allowing Y/N to drag her to the gate into the backyard. 

“I know, thank you, mom,” Y/N squeezed her mother into her side, embarrassment washing over Y/N with the sentiments, even while guilt began to gnaw away at her stomach. She was being consumed by thoughts racing through her mind, not only about Taehyung, but Namjoon, Seokjin, and Jeongguk too. “Come on, I think Grandmother is probably wondering where you are.”

Watching her mother amble away as if she hadn’t just said anything out of the ordinary, Y/N resisted the urge to grab the nearest bottle of Tito’s and pour it down her throat. The cookout was in full swing two hours in, many of her neighbors swaying to an old rock song with cocktails in their hands. The scent of the grill was strongly perfuming the humid air, Y/N able to make out the forms of her father and Yoongi placing packages of hamburger, hot dogs, and bean burgers on the table beside them. 

Hurriedly, Y/N moved to the nearest table with booze on it, filling a cup with ice, a concerning amount of vodka, and a splash of seltzer, not really caring if Hoseok materialized out of nowhere to call her a lightweight. She desperately needed a drink to process, gulping down some of the heinous tasting liquid greedily as she stared at Namjoon’s bedroom window above the table. Y/N had no idea what to do with the information her mother had relayed to her, considering her mother’s visions and predictions were rarely wrong. 

She had a hard time wrapping her brain around Taehyung murdering someone, all sorts of concerning thoughts and excuses floating around in her skull. If he had indeed killed a man, who could it have been; was it an abusive shelter worker, someone he worked with in Alaska, someone who looked at him funny, perhaps another hybrid? If the vision was true, what did that mean for the other hybrids, for her? Nothing seemed to make rational sense the more she turned it over in her mind, the bitter taste of vodka doing little to calm her anxieties, even though she was in dire need to compose herself just in case the hybrids could sniff out her distress. 

“Y/N, over here! Where’ve you been?” Y/N heard Laura’s voice shout from a distance, flinching and spilling her drink on the grass. 

“One second!” Y/N hollered back, quickly pouring herself another drink before turning to locate where Laura was calling her from. 

She caught a flash of her green polka-dotted dress by the picnic table, weaving through the crowd of her neighbors blindly. Interestingly, she didn’t bump into any of her hybrids while she navigated through the sea of people in her backyard, finally able to reach Laura perched on the bench with her son on her lap. 

“Hey, sorry I disappeared! My mother wanted to remind me not to forget to set up a table for the desserts later,” Y/N covered guiltily, Laura buying the lie easily with understanding blanketing her features. 

Leaning down as Kai began to babble up at Y/N, she offered her index finger to the child, giggling as he grasped onto it with his fist. It was amazing how with the simplest of gestures, children could spark such joy that all other worries seemed to fade into the background. 

“I talked to your Hoseok and Jimin for a while, they’re really sweet with the children,” Laura began, bouncing her leg up and down to rock Kai. Smiling softly, Y/N peered around Laura’s form, spotting the Jimin tossing a foam water ball to Daisy in the kiddie pool a little ways away, his ears perky as Ben chatted with him. “Al seems to be pretty into Hoseok.”

Freezing, Y/N stared at Laura with unease, Laura appearing to be stifling a laugh. Y/N didn’t know how much of a good idea it would be if one of her hybrids began to date a close friend of hers, considering the break-up would estrange Alice from her for several months and she couldn’t exactly cut Hoseok out of her life. Besides that, a tingly-hot sensation crept into her gut at the very idea of the two of them together romantically, something Y/N immediately found hard to squash down. 

“Jesus. I can’t say that I blame her,” Y/N replied lamely, attempting to locate the fox hybrid and her best friend in the mass of people congregating in the backyard.

“Don’t worry, I don’t think she’ll steal him away,” Laura chuckled, the blood draining from Y/N’s face. “You know Al. She gets the ick quickly, and she doesn’t have time to be entertaining romance at the moment, anyways.”

“Hoseok’s charming. I doubt he’d give her the ick,” Y/N muttered, eventually spotting Hoseok’s bright aqua shirt by the ice bucket of beer, grinning down at Alice while she spoke about something passionately. 

“Hmm, so I was right, you’re jealous,” Laura teased, the audacity taking Y/N by such surprise that she rocked backwards on her heels in her crouch and landed harshly on her ass in the beaten-down grass. 

“I-I’m not! Laura, hush! Hoseok is a free agent, what do I care?” Y/N ground out, flames licking her cheeks as Tyler, Laura’s husband, chuckled lightly from across the table, adding insult to injury as she was unaware he was even listening. 

But Laura was indeed right, Y/N was jealous, she realized with a painful shock down her spine. She never predicted she would react this way to any of the hybrids simply making small talk with other women, but the itchy feeling of envy that overtook her as Hoseok laughed heartily at a joke Alice cracked from across the backyard was almost unbearable. Hardly the jealousy type, Y/N swallowed thickly, tearing her eyes from the handsome fox hybrid with great difficulty. 

“Need a hand?” Came a smoke-thickened voice from upwards and behind, Y/N craning her neck backwards distractedly as she shoved her jealousy deep down. 

A strong, tattooed hand was dangling in front of her face, a teasing look playing across Jeongguk’s face as he peered down at her. Y/N couldn’t recall a time Jeongguk was so interested in interacting with her, raising a few warning flags in her mind distantly. With hesitancy, Y/N barely grazed her fingertips with Jeongguk’s before he grasped her whole hand firmly with his fingers wrapped around her wrist, yanking her to her feet with ease as she ignored Laura’s probable smug reaction. She stumbled over the lip of her left sandal, cursing as Jeongguk righted her with his free hand on her waist. 

“Atta girl, steady now,” Jeongguk grunted, Y/N balking at the edge of cockiness to his tone and the implication of his words. As swiftly as he had touched her, his hands were gone, moving to lazily sit a couple of feet away from Laura on the picnic bench. 

“You’re Jeongguk, right? Oh, The Cure! Y/N, my sister, and I were crazy about them in high school band class,” Laura pointed to Jeongguk’s graphic tee, letting Kai down so he could clumsily waddle towards the direction of the kiddie pool. 

“God, I remember that. The heavy eyeliner and total lack of awareness that the eighties had come to pass,” Y/N snorted, recalling the images of her and the twins listening to gothic 80’s music in her garage back in high school, drinking tequila smuggled from her grandmother’s bar cart. 

“The Cure never goes out of style,” Laura exclaimed in response, patting the space between herself and the elk hybrid, Y/N perching on the bench before she teetered over again. “I wonder if the food will be out soon. I’m starving, and everything looked so good when I took a sneak peak in the kitchen.”

“I should probably help with bringing things out in a minute, huh,” Y/N murmured, narrowing her eyes at the slider door into the kitchen, making out shapes of her parents pulling things out of the refrigerator. 

“I think that kid Tony or whatever has it covered with Taehyung… and Yoongi the kiss-ass, of course,” Jeongguk lounged lazily on the bench beside her, Y/N shooting him a be nice look that went right over his antlers as he leaned backwards on his elbows. “Let’s let them do the work, since they seem so happy about it.”

“Bratty, aren’t you?” Laura teased, peering around Y/N’s shoulder with a smirk. “You should be careful with those cigarettes, unless hybrids are cancer-immune or something.”

Sending pointed looks at both the pack of Marlboro Reds sticking out of one of Jeongguk’s leather pockets and the unlit cigarette poised behind the industrial piercing of his left ear, the elk hybrid offered Laura an amused snort, much to Y/N’s surprise. Jeongguk was certainly behaving a bit out of character that afternoon, making an effort to mingle, as Y/N believed he’d shut himself into the house to avoid interaction with others. 

“We’re half-human, aren’t we? Besides, last time I checked, animals can get cancer too,” Jeongguk retorted, spreading his legs lazily as he ignored the bratty comment. 

Laura cocked a brow at his response before she dropped the subject, opting to ask Y/N about her new job at Judy’s. Enjoying the distraction from all of the disturbing thoughts circling around in her headspace, Y/N relayed some of the strange inventory items she could remember off the top of her head to Laura. The scent of food cooking on the grill had her stomach churning, basically running off of alcohol and nerves at that point. Yoongi, with his long tresses pulled back in a red scrunchie Y/N had given him that morning, was turning corn on the cob on the grill with tongs, the visual bringing a soft smirk to her lips. 

Half-listening to Laura and Tyler discussing the content of their upcoming vlog they were working on, Y/N scanned the backyard for some of her other hybrids. Of course, Hoseok was still with Alice, while Jimin was now conversing with Roy while they watched over Daisy and Kai in the shallow kiddie pool. Jimin, for the first time that she could remember, seemed pretty tipsy, his cheeks rosy as he wobbled on his feet in a crouch beside Roy. Giggling softly, she tried to find Namjoon, who had sought out her mother by the bonfire much to her dismay, and he was pulling cards from a stack in her mother’s hands with a tiny dimpled grin. Unfortunately, her mother had not followed through on her request to only pull affirmation cards, Y/N catching the Rider-Waite image of The Magician on the printed card stock he selected. 

Shaking her head, extremely peeved, Y/N was only comforted by the fact that her mother already knew Namjoon and didn’t seem to be bothered by his surliness; and the wolf hybrid himself was so fond of her. Seokjin was nearby Namjoon, looking comfortable in one of the chairs beside her grandmother by the bonfire, taking small sips of sangria. Humming along to the Aerosmith song reverberating from the speakers, Y/N searched for Taehyung among the crowd next, pretty much taking a head count. There was a sickening feeling in her stomach when she couldn’t see him immediately, panic flooding through her with the possibility that he may have heard her conversation with her mother earlier. Biting her lip, Y/N caught Jeongguk stiffening next to her through her peripherals, wondering if he could sense her edginess as she scanned the backyard frantically for the Kodiak hybrid. 

She finally managed to spot Taehyung after several tense moments of rapidly roaming her eyes across the familiar faces of her neighbors, the Kodiak hybrid pulling the slider door of the kitchen open and trudging outside with the large bowl of fruit salad. Sagging with relief, Y/N’s eyes trailed after him dodging a few tipsy members of Sal’s family, apparently making his way to the table she was sitting at. As if he felt the weight of her gaze on him, Taehyung locked eyes with her, a pointy-toothed smile peeking through his lips. Instantly, everything her mother had relayed to her was forgotten with the easy innocence of his smile. 

“Yoongi said the food will be ready soon. Tony put everything that needed to be heated up in the ovens,” Taehyung announced softly as he set the bowl of fruit on the table, Laura immediately forking some of it onto a little plate. Y/N wasn’t sure if Laura had even heard Taehyung, as he spoke close to Y/N’s ear and barely above a whisper, as he usually did. 

“That’s great! How’s it going, Tae, are you having fun?” Y/N asked, shock flooding through her as she watched him round the table to take a seat beside Tyler. It was interesting to see Taehyung be so willing to have a closer proximity with people other than herself, between Tony, her mother and grandparents, and now Tyler. For several of the hybrids, it seemed that they were making great progress with coming out of their shells a bit that afternoon; it warmed her heart. 

Taehyung nodded in response to her question, accepting a fresh bottle of beer from Tyler with a grateful smile. Tyler, Laura’s highschool sweetheart, was extremely easy to get along with, so it came as no surprise when he began to strike up a conversation with Taehyung about the Kodiak hybrid’s outfit. Laura rolled her eyes playfully, informing Y/N and Jeongguk about Tyler’s recent fascination with men’s fashion. Y/N was even more floored that Jeongguk seemed to not only endure the conversation, but even interjected a comment about his own style a few times. Perhaps the gin cocktail he was nursing was loosening him up a bit. Taking a sip of her own drink, Y/N sighed happily, enjoying the warm sun on her face. 

Within minutes, Tony was ferrying back and forth from the kitchen with foil tray after foil tray of food; her father’s buttery mac and cheese, a rather large casserole dish filled with Yoongi’s chili, the mashed potatoes, chilled salads and fixings for the cheeseburgers and hot dogs. Taehyung had begun to rise from his seat, but as Tony came out with an armful of condiment bottles, he used his free hand to push the Kodiak hybrid back down on the bench with a shake of his head. 

“Ah, you’ve done enough, Tae. I owe you from earlier, when I almost burned my hand off on that cast-iron skillet with the baked beans and you smacked me out of the way,” Tony exclaimed, setting down the numerous bottles in his arms on the table. 

Taehyung’s ears fluttered shyly, his fingertips tracing the condensation on his half-empty beer bottle. Already, people were swarming around the table to fill up their paper plates with food, not even waiting for Yoongi to tiptoe his way through the masses of ravenous tipsy guests with two cookie sheets full of his labors on the grill. When he finally reached the table, Yoongi placed the sheets down at the end of the table, his shoulders relaxing a few inches once he realized he was relieved from grill duty. 

Once a few of her neighbors crowded Yoongi at the table trying to stack cheeseburgers onto their overflowing plates, the leopard hybrid managed to elegantly slink away, and like a magnet, found himself behind Y/N. Humming as she tilted her head upwards to greet him, Y/N watched Yoongi’s hand slide onto her bare shoulder, squeezing the tingling flesh softly with a fond smile as she said hello. Under the table, Y/N felt Laura kick her shin lightly, but Y/N didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of meeting her likely scandalized gaze. 

With people scattered all over the backyard with food, many of them supplying their own picnic blankets to sit on, Y/N started loading up her own plate with as many of the food options that she could, eager to not only try everything Yoongi had made, but to sober up a bit. As she stood, she felt the alcohol in her bloodstream bathe everything in the backyard in a hazy filter. Laura and Tyler had left the table to sit on a rather large blanket Ben had rolled out, catching up with Roy and keeping an eye on the children splashing around in the kiddie pool. 

As she plopped back down on her spot next to Jeongguk, who was very clearly enjoying the baked ziti Sal brought, Y/N surreptitiously eyed Taehyung across from her over the lip of her drink cup– which she found was mystically refilled with vodka and seltzer– as he was plucking another beer from the ice bucket beside him. 

“Oof, that looks good. I should make a plate,” Y/N jumped when the bench rocked as Hoseok landed sharply on her free side, whistling as he ogled her plate hungrily. The mystery of her refilled drink was solved; it must have been Hoseok while she was busy stuffing her plate full of mashed potatoes. 

“You should! Hey, was that you refilling my drink? I thought you said I was a lightweight, are you trying to see what I’m like blacked out?” Y/N elbowed Hoseok in the ribs, watching him swipe a strawberry slice off of her plate with his eyebrow cocked at her words. 

“If you eat everything on that plate, you should be fine,” Hoseok chuckled, his ears twitching as the song on the speakers changed. “You seemed a little tense, so I topped you off.”

Stilling, Y/N cursed her inability to perfect a constant state of neutrality with her body language. Even though she hadn’t known her hybrids for very long, it seemed that they were pretty attuned to the way she moved through the world and the subtle shifts in her moods. There were even instances where the hybrids anticipated her needs without her either realizing them or acting upon them herself, such as Yoongi reminding her to take it easy on the booze or Taehyung fixing her drafty window unprompted. 

Munching on her food thoughtfully, Y/N listened to Hoseok chat with Yoongi from the leopard hybrid’s spot beside Taehyung, the conversation mostly consisting of complimenting Yoongi up and down on his cooking skills. Truly, every dish he made was absolutely sinful on the taste buds, Y/N unwillingly admitting to herself that all of his food blew the items Sal brought out of the water, and even her father’s mac and cheese. After she plowed through about a third of her plate, and honestly feeling quite full already, Seokjin ambled over to the table to get himself a cheeseburger, settling down beside Yoongi with his cheeks stuffed full of macaroni. Despite everything, Seokjin still maintained his devilishly handsome looks, even if he did look like a goofball as he tried to join the conversation while still chewing his food. 

All things considered, the cookout was going remarkably well. The only hiccup, of course, was her mother dropping the Taehyung bombshell on her, and as she thought about it more, perhaps Alice and Hoseok’s clear flirtatious connection. Even now, as Hoseok was beside her, Y/N unfortunately caught the wink he sent Alice’s way as she sat beside Jimin a little ways away on Ben’s picnic blanket. Before she could get too perturbed over it, her eyes narrowed in on Jimin, who was pretty tipsily squeezing an obscene amount of mustard on his hotdog. Snorting, she made sure to keep one eye on Namjoon, still in deep discussion with her mother by the bonfire, the flames casting an amber glow over his silvery hair– he seemed to be doing just fine, even with her parents and grandparents surrounding him. 

Tossing back the rest of her drink, Y/N was toeing the line of pretty thorough intoxication, pushing away her half-eaten plate of food in favor of swiping Jeongguk’s gin and seltzer while he wasn’t looking. Or, if he did notice, he didn’t say anything, once he returned to his spot beside her with more baked ziti. Yoongi, however, shot her a warning look, staring pointedly at the red solo cup wrapped in her hands, to which she stuck her tongue out at him childishly. The leopard hybrid scoffed at her, eyebrows lifting into his hairline, though refrained from scolding her. Once she downed the rest of Jeongguk’s drink, Y/N excitedly left the picnic table in pursuit of playing corn hole with a very wobbly Jimin. 

The night was coming to a near-close; several of her neighbors and friends had long since left and all that remained were her family and the hybrids. It was the time in the evening where things quieted down almost completely, and Y/N brought out her large basket worth of s’mores ingredients and stakes to dish out. She was still tipsy, though less so after cutting herself off to avoid more evil-eyes from Yoongi, but mostly she felt happy. Though Laura had left with Tyler and Kai to meet the child’s early bedtime, followed by Ben and Roy with Daisy for a similar reason, Y/N wasn’t bummed out that she had to say her goodbyes so early. The cookout was tons of fun, but she was aching to just chat with all of her hybrids rather than watch them from afar scattered across the backyard. After giving Alice a swift kiss on the cheek in farewell as she ordered her Uber back to her apartment, Y/N waited for her family to bid goodbye to the hybrids, all of which were sitting comfortably on two big blankets she had spread out by the bonfire.

Her mother wrapped both Namjoon and Seokjin in a tight hug, the former’s expression torn between distaste that he was so close to Seokjin and fondness of her mother’s affection for him. Jimin, of course, was being fought over by her father and grandfather, both of them trying to see who could give him a firmer handshake. Stifling a giggle with a hand pressed to her mouth, Y/N remained by the gate until her family broke free from the hybrids so she could see them off herself. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Everything was so wonderful, I mean the food! That leopard hybrid of yours is a fantastic chef,” her grandmother gave Y/N a soft hug, her small face sleepy and warm with joy. “You take good care until the next time you come to visit.”

“I will, I’m so glad you came,” Y/N returned, feeling both her father and grandfather squeeze either of her sides, the scent of campfire and whiskey coming off of both of them powerfully. “Mom, let me know when you make it home safe.”

Her mother, who wasn’t a big drinker, was the designated driver. She held back for a few moments as she and Y/N watched her father help her grandparents to the car, Y/N bracing herself for another warning. With resignation, Y/N wrapped her arms around her mother the best she could with the basket full of marshmallows swinging from the crook of her elbow, breathing in her spicy perfume. 

“Thank you for hosting such a wonderful evening, honey,” her mother murmured, rubbing her hands soothingly up and down Y/N’s back. “Remember what I told you.”

With the last reminder, whispered into her ear with urgency, her mother hurried to her car, probably to avoid Y/N cussing her out in front of the hybrids only about twenty yards away. Grinding the heel of her sandal into the dirt by the gate with agitation, Y/N latched it shut and adjusted the thin cardigan she had thrown on to combat the night chill before shaking the comment off and heading towards the hybrids around the bonfire. 

Crickets had begun to chirp loudly in the long grasses, along with the odd croak of summer’s last bullfrogs lingering by the pond further in the backyard, the sounds of nature replacing the playlist from the speakers; in consideration of the neighbors likely heading to bed shortly after being so liquored up at her get-together. The moon was full, bathing the backyard in a blue-silver glow, offset by the blazing bonfire casting a warm orange hue over the silhouettes of the seven hybrids. As she got closer, she watched several pairs of ears perk up in her direction, and Y/N supposed that was her own window into reading their body languages and how she affected them. A slow ear twitch was interest or alertness, rapid flickers of the ears and tail were agitation, ears turned backwards were sadness, confusion, or embarrassment. With time, Y/N predicted, it would become even easier for her to decipher their moods based on the way their tails and ears moved in various situations. 

Seokjin and Hoseok were sitting together on a corner of the same blanket Yoongi and Jimin were on, of course, both catching up after being apart for most of the day while Yoongi tried his best to get Jimin to drink a bottle of water. On the other blanket was Jeongguk, Namjoon, and Taehyung, the former two seemingly tolerating each other by mutually sitting as far as they could from the Kodiak hybrid. Humming, Y/N approached the blankets, aware of seven pairs of expectant eyes on her and the mysterious basket she was holding. 

“My boys, hope you had a nice day,” Y/N began, the sentence falling out so naturally she didn’t know whether to blame it on the booze or how affectionate she felt towards them all already. Trying not to enjoy the range of emotions playing across each individual face, differing between shock, fluster, and tipsy bashfulness, Y/N began to hand out the sticks for the s’mores. “One last treat, just for us though!”

Setting the basket down between the blankets so everyone could reach the ingredients, Y/N used her teeth to rip open the pack of jumbo marshmallows while she lowered herself to the free spot on the blanket next to Taehyung, in front of Namjoon. Stabbing two marshmallows onto her stake, she considered for a moment, before handing it over to Taehyung beside her in exchange for his empty one, figuring it to be rude to just go ahead and start making a dessert for herself. Taehyung grinned softly, extending the stake dangerously far into the dwindling bonfire. 

“I’m so full. I don’t think I have room for that, Miss Y/N,” Jimin announced while fumbling with his stake, his voice a tad on the whiny side as Yoongi snickered from beside him. 

“Oh, come on, Jiminie, there’s always room for one more dessert,” Hoseok encouraged, leaning lazily on Seokjin’s arm as he began to roast his own marshmallows. “It’ll soak up all that whiskey you drank. You should know better than trying to keep up with an elderly man who has been drinking since he was twelve.”

Choking on her spit, Y/N reached out to whack Hoseok on his arm lightly, trying not to patronize Jimin further while he was grumbling and burning his marshmallows in the fire. Everyone had their stakes in the bonfire already, though Y/N noticed that Seokjin’s marshmallows were being roasted for him by Hoseok, the jaguar hybrid keeping a good distance from the flames in a fidgety manner. The only one without a marshmallow was Namjoon, who was distractedly fiddling with blades of grass while everyone else tore into the graham cracker boxes and king-sized chocolate bars. Turning slightly, but not before smirking at the bit of melted marshmallow on Taehyung’s cheek, Y/N cocked her head at the wolf hybrid curiously while waving her stake with roasted marshmallows sliding off to get his attention. 

“Don’t you want one, Namjoon?” Y/N pouted, the sounds of everyone else munching making the wolf hybrid’s ears flutter. Namjoon’s mouth opened, amber eyes narrowing in on the melting gelatin on her stake with suspicion. Rolling her eyes, Y/N retrieved a graham cracker from the box and snapped it in half, breaking off a chunk of chocolate and sandwiching everything together with the hot marshmallow. Gingerly, she offered Namjoon the treat with a soft smile, the wolf hybrid's eyes widening a fraction. “Here, take this one!”

Slowly, Namjoon accepted the s’more from her, Y/N holding back an impatient huff as he moved at a glacial speed. Eventually, he took it, a dimple appearing on his cheek as a reluctant half-smile bloomed across his face. Satisfied, Y/N leaned back on her hands, tilting her head back towards the star-studded sky, basking in the brightness of the moonlight and the warmth of the fire. 

“Shit, Jimin. You’re going to burn yourself,” Yoongi scolded from several feet away, begrudgingly supporting the coyote hybrid’s head on his shoulder while munching on a very sloppy s’more, an exaggerated grimace painted across Yoongi’s delicate face.

“No ‘m not,” Jimin grumbled with his ears drooping, his thick lower lip jutting out into a pout, Y/N giggling alongside Seokjin and Hoseok at the little spectacle.

Though the night was coming to quite a pleasant close, with all of her hybrids seemingly content and getting along well, anxiety began to creep its way into her body. Likely sensing the subtle shift in her mood, Taehyung moved from beside her, trying to angle his face downwards to catch her gaze. Poor Taehyung had no idea that her anxieties were mostly surrounding him, even as he distractedly twirled a loose thread on the wrist of her sweater, the featherlight, barely-there contact wracking shivers from her body. Distracted by her thoughts, Y/N absently moved her hand to link two digits around Taehyung’s slender pointer finger, maybe in an attempt to ground herself, she’d never know. 

Sitting mostly in silence, save for the odd slightly disgruntled murmur from Jimin or Yoongi who was still supporting the coyote hybrid upright, Y/N felt the small tether from Taehyung’s finger help her float back down to earth. Distantly, she knew she’d have to talk to Taehyung eventually; considering it would be impossible to mask her anxiety and questions for long without raising suspicion. 

For now though, with the evening cool with the last of August slipping away with the stifling summer heat, Y/N was more at peace than she had been in years. Admitting this to herself was at first, a bit foolish, but something about the way that she was surrounded by quiet companionship, knowing that she wouldn’t have to retire back into the big old house by herself at the end of the night, filled her with warmth and comfort. Truly, she didn’t imagine that she’d grow this attached to each and every hybrid that she had adopted so rashly, but every single one of them had already wormed his way into her heart. Each had their charms, unique traits, and ways of expressing a softness that was pretty incredible to witness considering the handful of facts Y/N had about each of their rocky pasts. 

Taehyung, who had adjusted his hand to loosely grasp onto Y/N’s whole hand while she looked up at the stars, pressed his thumb lightly into the spot Yoongi had scented her that morning, the sensation painless but still sending a jolt through her. Tossing an involuntary look behind her shoulder towards the leopard hybrid still comforting a sleepy Jimin, Y/N immediately locked eyes with Yoongi, the corner of his mouth lifting into a lazy smirk as she gawked at him with alarm. Taehyung, either oblivious or deliberately pressing into the mark with his thumb, kept his chin skywards, eyes glued to the moon with a reverent expression. A light tap on her shoulder had Y/N tearing her gaze from Taehyung’s side profile, turning her face to the side with her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Have the rest of this? I don’t want it,” Jeongguk presented a half-eaten s’more in front of her face, Y/N able to make out various ancient looking glyphs inked into his wiry fingers. 

“Sure. Thanks, Jeongguk,” Y/N smiled in thanks, carefully taking the treat with her free hand as he averted his eyes downwards. Cute. 

She liked this softened version of the elk hybrid, wondering if his ‘brattiness’ had dissolved since he had rid herself and the house of the malevolent entity. Taking a bite of his haphazardly made s’more, Y/N sunk further into her seat on the thick blanket, listening to the sounds of the moonlit summer evening and the hybrid’s quiet voices as they conversed between themselves. 

The slow pulse of an impending hangover was already eagerly presenting itself in one of the veins of Y/N’s forehead, making her grit her teeth as she brushed them sloppily in the mirror. It was late, almost half past two in the morning, and she had finally managed to tear herself from the hybrids and usher them all inside for some sleep. After changing into a well-worn oversized tee shirt and boyshort panties, Y/N was ready to rest her aching bones until at least 9 AM, anxious to shut out the obnoxious nagging thoughts bouncing around in her skull. 

Tiredly, Y/N scrolled through a few messages from her friends on her phone while she curled up into a ball in bed, quilt pulled tight around her body as she listened to Jeongguk stomping around above her. From the noise, it sounded like he was attempting to yank open the door to the balcony for a smoke, treading back and forth from the spot where his wardrobe was. 

Ben Alpin: so much fun today!! I guess I approve of your hybrids. The ones I could corner, at least

Laura Santos: They’re pretty sweet, Y/N! Not so bad on the eyes, either~

Ben Alpin: Laura!

Laura Santos: I’m married Ben, not dead

Y/N: Fair… they’re all handsome, aren’t they

Ben Alpin: Just how much did you have to drink, exactly, Y/N? 

Alice Santos: Come on Ben, it’s like what Laura said, you’re MARRIED not DEAD

Ben Alpin: I’m engaged, smartass! They are cute, though, I’ll admit it

Alice Santos: Hoseok’s my favorite. Might see a bit more of me at your house in the future, Y/N

Y/N: Whatever gets you here for a sleepover, my love!

Huffing, Y/N set her phone down on the nightstand beside her to charge, not wanting to drift off to sleep mulling over images of Hoseok and Alice growing close in her mind’s eye. Gathering up a fistful of her quilt under her chin, Y/N caught sight of the moon outside her window, knowing that sleep would evade her for a bit even though her body was sagging with exhaustion into the mattress. 

Now that the cookout was behind her, Y/N could spend the rest of the weekend making sure the hybrids were truly settling into their new home before she headed off to her first shift at Judy’s on Monday morning. Her plan was to keep things pretty low-key during the weekend, maybe go for a few nature walks around the property, take a trip to town for anything they may need to pick up from the stores, maybe get some restoration work out of the way. She wanted to monitor all of the hybrids physically, as well, hoping that all of them would end up scenting her by Sunday so she wouldn’t return home from work with one of them in the same state Seokjin was in when she left them alone the last time. 

As she curled into a tighter ball on her side, Y/N froze for a moment, as she swore she heard a faint knocking on her door. Straining her ears, she relaxed back into the sheets seconds later after chalking it up to some wind from outside, or perhaps from Jeongguk upstairs who was still clomping around. Though, after several seconds passed, Y/N definitely heard a knock on her bedroom door, the wooden sound a bit more confident than the previous pass. Sitting upright, Y/N rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands, switching on her old stained-glass nightstand lamp so she could stumble out of bed. She had deja-vu, recalling how Namjoon had knocked on her door late at night only a few days ago. Like that time, she could only guess who was on the other side of the door as she gingerly cracked it open. 

“Sorry. Were you sleeping already?” It was Taehyung, Y/N knew even when she couldn’t see his form much at all from the darkened hallway, due to the low and impossibly quiet register of his voice. 

“Hmm, no, not yet. What’s going on, Tae, you need something?” Y/N tugged on the hem of her tee shirt, suddenly very aware that she wasn’t wearing any pants. With no response from the darkened figure in the hallway, Y/N cocked her head and pressed on. “Here, come in. I don’t want to wake the others.”

Stepping aside and peeling the door open a bit further, Y/N watched Taehyung shuffle into the room, donning blue plaid pajama pants and a white undershirt. His hair was a bit ruffled, like he had rolled around on his pillow for a bit, but Y/N was relieved to see that he didn’t have any telltale signs of discomfort from not scenting her yet. Shutting the door behind him softly, Y/N motioned for him to sit at the foot of her bed upon his continued pensive silence. 

“So, what’s up? Can’t sleep?” Y/N pressed after a few moments, crossing her arms over her chest in front of Taehyung to combat some of the chill in the room now that she had left the warmth of her quilt. 

Taehyung shook his head, garnet eyes finding hers after a couple of seconds of twiddling his thumbs on her bed. Biting her lip, Y/N didn’t really know where to go from there if Taehyung wasn’t going to speak– was she supposed to just let him hang out in her room so they could stare at each other? Now that she was alone with him, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, much to her surprise and very much against her will. Fuck, her mother’s vision was getting to her. 

“No, that’s not it,” Taehyung narrowed his eyes as his nostrils almost imperceptibly flared, Y/N wondering if she was beginning to anxiously perspire. “I’m worried.”

Swallowing thickly, Y/N frowned as the wheels began to turn in her head, moving slowly to sit beside Taehyung on the edge of the bed. 

“Want to talk about it?” Y/N murmured, trying her hardest to keep her breathing measured to avoid attracting more attention to her frazzled nerves, Taehyung nodding in the slightest in response to her question. “What are you worried about?”

“You,” Taehyung pulled his brows together, giving Y/N a purposeful once-over as her entire body locked up. “I’m worried about you.”

It was as if a bucket of icy water was dumped over her, several alarm bells going off in her head as she stared at Taehyung with widened eyes. Was she really that transparent? Did he actually overhear her conversation with her mother? With her bad habit of overthinking, was this the time she actually predicted a disaster before it happened?

“M-me? Why, Tae? I’m fine!” Y/N spluttered, her fingernails digging into the soft skin of the tops of her thighs. The corners of Taehyung’s mouth turned downwards, definitely not taking her reply seriously as he shifted his weight closer to her. 

Carefully, Taehyung leveled his face closer to her’s, inspecting every angle of her face. He took her breath away, able to give him the same amount of examination from inches away; and by the gods, he was beautiful. The brush of his thick, straight lashes, his soul-penetrating carmine gaze, the odd freckle dusted across his smooth skin. 

“You’re anxious. Nervous. Something is bothering you, it’s concerning to me,” Taehyung uttered, barely over a whisper, his words creating puffs of air ghosting across her lips. The way he articulated with emphasis had shivers rolling through her body, fumbling to formulate a decent excuse for him. She came up with nothing. 

“Um… please don’t worry, Tae. Really, it’s nothing, I’m okay. Today and this past week have just been hectic, you know?” Y/N whispered, scared that if she raised her voice, she’d completely break down and spill her guts to him. When he continued to stare at her imploringly Y/N dropped her gaze. 

“I don’t believe you. What’s wrong?” Taehyung urged, hooking a finger under her chin gently to tilt her face back up to meet his eyes again.

As a result, she felt tears begin to well up at the corner of her eyes, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to get out of this situation without telling the Kodiak hybrid the truth. She wouldn’t know what to do if Taehyung reacted poorly to her telling that truth, what he’d even say, and if it would have him lapsing back into being mute like he was at the shelter. He had come so far out of his shell that afternoon, really making an effort to talk to her friends and family, and she was worried that breaching the subject of hey, did you murder someone would render all of that progress useless. 

Y/N pulled away a degree, Taehyung’s hand falling back into his lap while Y/N furiously scrubbed at her eyes with fists to keep her tears at bay. Chuckling weakly, Y/N decided to relent and not overthink his reaction before he even had it, figuring if anything the two of them could have a good laugh about her mother’s crazy vision together. 

“Ugh. Sorry, I’m not always so emotional, I swear,” Y/N croaked, Taehyung blinking placidly as he waited for her to continue speaking. “I don’t know. It’s just something my mother said this afternoon, she had a ‘vision’ while she was here. It was so outrageous, though, I pretty much wrote it off, even if she is usually rarely wrong when she gets these specific kinds of visions. I guess I’m still a little bothered by the absurdity of it all.”

Taehyung took a deep breath, scooching closer to her with a curious flicker to his ears. Sighing, Y/N took up one of his hands, squeezing it to reassure him, or perhaps herself– either way, she’d have to bite the bullet to prevent lying to him. 

“A vision,” Taehyung tasted the word on his tongue, narrowing his eyes at the way Y/N cradled his wide palm in between their bodies. “It obviously scared you, so it must not have been a good one. What was it about?”

“Strangely enough,” Y/N scratched the back of her neck with her free hand, the air in the room suffocating her all of a sudden. “It was about you, Tae.”

Taehyung flinched as if he was shocked by a live wire, his hand still resting in hers, tightening its hold a fraction before releasing it altogether. Abruptly, Taehyung stood, pacing in front of her bed with a stormy look in his eyes. The reaction did nothing to encourage divulging any more information, Y/N grasping the material of her quilt with alarm. After several moments of watching Taehyung make laps around her bedroom, yanking anxiously at his inky curls, the Kodiak hybrid found his way back in front of Y/N, bending to a crouch in front of her with an expression of distress she had never seen on his usually composed face. A sick feeling was curling in her gut, and she knew there was a possibility that what her mother had seen was real, after all. 

“Me? Y/N, listen to me– what did she say about me?” Taehyung’s voice was scratchy, strained, gripping his knees with whitened knuckles when Y/N didn’t answer promptly. “Please, talk to me!”

“T-tae, I’m not sure tha–”

Shaking his head quickly, Taehyung cut her off by placing both of his hands on her shoulders somewhat roughly, making Y/N go rigid in his grip. Things were spiraling a bit out of her control, and the room felt charged.

“Tell me. It’s okay, I can handle it,” Taehyung insisted, fingertips digging into her shoulders imploringly. Thighs beginning to shake from nerves, Y/N tried her best to find comfort in the way Taehyung’s features softened once the fear began to roll off of her in waves. 

“Her vision was a jumbled mess, I watched her have it– well, she claims you’ve killed someone,” Y/N blurted, nervously laughing at recalling just how ridiculous the whole conversation truly was. 

Taehyung’s face cleared of all emotion, like a chalkboard wiped clean, his hands sliding from her body as he unceremoniously rocked back on his feet and sat on the floor with a thump, which made Y/N continue babbling while he stared at the floor. “Which, of course, I told her was totally ridiculous, I mean come on. I’ve been anxious since then, especially because I promised not to lie to any of you again, but I didn’t exactly know how to bring up something like this to you.”

The silence in the room was deafening. Y/N swore even the crickets chirping outside had silenced, the sound not coming through her cracked-open window anymore, making her hold her breath in suspense. Taehyung’s face remained as stony as it was when she first laid eyes on his human form back at the shelter, sitting so still he looked like a marble statue. Figuring him to be stunned out of a response, Y/N began to force out a few choppy giggles as she stood, motioning for Taehyung to get up and trying her best to snap him out of it so they could finally move on from the tense conversation. 

“So yeah, uh… pretty stupid, huh? Like I said, the reason why I was a nervous wreck was because I knew I’d have to bring it up eventually and I didn’t want to upset you. Sorry to worry you, Tae… I’m going to talk to my mom this week, insist that her vision was just some kind of fluke–”

“How did she even see… I didn’t even know you then,” Taehyung interrupted her monologue, the blood draining from her face as the Kodiak hybrid squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is unbelievable.”

“W-what?” Y/N squeaked, dread flooding through her as she watched Taehyung get to his feet heavily, his face suddenly appearing years older. “Taehyung?”

Running a tired hand over his face, he finally looked at her, Y/N knowing she appeared scared out of her wits. Her mother’s vision actually true? Judging by Taehyung’s cryptic reaction, there was a huge possibility the vision wasn’t just a bunch of nonsense, and it was sobering as she stared at Taehyung with wide eyes. There was a great sadness to his expression, growing more pronounced by the second as Y/N realized she was slowly backing away from him, until her spine hit the glass window to the backyard. He got closer, stopping a couple of feet away once he noticed how tense she had become. 

“Y/N, I’m not going to hurt you, please don’t be scared of me,” Taehyung began, his throat sounding strained. Swallowing hard, Y/N tugged on the hem of her tee shirt, feeling the room start to spin a bit. She didn’t want to be afraid of Taehyung, who had been nothing but an angel since she met him, but she wasn’t expecting him to react like she caught him red-handed. 

“Okay,” Y/N breathed, doing her best not to lock up even more when he took another step closer to her. “I’m not scared, just confused… Can you–”

“I told you I was from Alaska, right?” Taehyung inched even closer to her, seeming to sense that Y/N needed a bit of clarification from him. Taking her silence as a cue to continue, Taehyung breathed in deeply. 

“I was working at a sawmill under the table with other Kodiak hybrids. I mean, they didn’t even pay us, we had to live in these run-down cabins, the owners were horrible people… we worked all day, into the night, cutting down the trees and hauling them to the trucks to be processed. It was what it was, I was created and grew up there, so I was used to the mundane… was somewhat comfortable with it. That changed in the past few years, with more humans interested in hybrid hunting, my friends and I started to worry about what might happen to us one day, if we didn’t keep working hard or got injured. Last month, when I came back late one night from one of the trucks, I overheard one of the owners on the phone. It sounded like they were making some kind of deal.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, simultaneously wondering what this information had to do with the vision and distantly intrigued she was learning new information about Taehyung. Clearing his throat, Taehyung continued. 

“I didn’t think much of it, that night. I was exhausted, and had to get up early for my next shift, so I crashed. The next thing I know, my cabin mates and I are woken up in the middle of the night by burlap sacks being shoved over our heads and zip ties around our wrists, a syringe in our necks, and we were thrown into the back of a box truck.”

With a sharp intake of breath, Y/N bit her lip, noticing Taehyung’s voice begin to get throaty with emotion. Taehyung was trafficked, kidnapped, and the thought of it had her heart breaking. 

“That’s horrifying,” Y/N whispered, wanting to reach out to him but finding her hands were glued to the material of her shirt. “Do you know who took you away?”

“They were traffickers, the owners of the sawmill picked out a few of my buddies and I to sell. We were going to be sold to a group of CEOs for a hunting tournament in Seattle. We could hear the driver of the truck talking about it in the front seat over the phone once whatever they injected us with wore off. One of my friends was able to snap off his restraints, and helped us all out of our own. We didn’t dare try and speak to each other, but we knew that eventually, the driver would have to stop for gas and check on us. So we waited, and when the back door opened up when he pulled off the highway, we…”

Each new detail was more dreadful than the last, Y/N feeling bile rise up in her throat as Taehyung trailed off. His breath became labored, Y/N able to sense the panic rising in him due to the pained and confused look on his face while he seemingly relived the memory. Without a second thought, Y/N softly grabbed one of Taehyung’s wrists, urging him on. 

“We?” Y/N murmured, hoping that the physical touch and the fact that most of the fear she felt earlier had left her body completely. She had the feeling whatever she was going to hear next was all in the name of self defense. Taehyung practically melted into her loose grip, seemingly helping him muster up the courage to open his mouth once more. 

“It’s hard to remember. Most of my friends split off as soon as we jumped out of the back. It was just me and this guy Caleb who ended up getting cornered by the truck driver before we could get away, and Caleb wasn’t exactly a friend of mine. Caleb was trying to pin the driver down and push him towards me, but the guy pulled a knife and tossed Caleb to the ground and then he turned on me. I couldn’t even think, all that was running through my head was the fact that I needed to get away, I needed to survive this,” Taehyung’s chest heaved, his eyes far away as he recalled the memory. Y/N tried her best to smooth her thumb over the skin of his wrist for comfort, waiting for him to catch his breath so he could finish.

“I managed to knock him to the ground and get the knife from him at some point… I didn’t even know what I was doing by that point, instincts kicked in or something, I don’t know. I couldn’t run away, the guy was thrashing around beneath me, screaming, I swore my head was going to explode. At the time, I felt I had no other option, everyone else had run away and I knew that the driver would chase after me because I attacked him. I just– Caleb was already escaping into the woods, taunting me, as the knife went down, and the driver was… I k-killed him in the street before I even registered that I was holding the knife, with a witness promising to turn me in if we were found out.”

When he finished his story, Y/N’s ears were ringing, gaping at Taehyung with a loose hanging jaw. He looked incredibly vulnerable and was visibly shaking; torn between strong regret and deep discomfort after admitting the truth. With her fingers still wrapped around his wrist, she weakly squeezed it, any remaining wariness she felt towards him had disappeared following his confession. Clearly, this was something that was weighing heavily on him for quite a bit, and Y/N couldn’t even comprehend how difficult it was for him to confess all of this to her. 

“Say something, please,” Taehyung pleaded quietly, after a few moments of somber silence. Y/N didn’t know if there was anything she could say in response. 

“Come here, Tae,” Y/N murmured, tugging him closer, looping her arms around his shoulders tightly, pressing her face into the thin material of his tee-shirt covering his chest. Flush with him, Y/N could hear the impossibly fast pace of Taehyung’s heartbeat as he sagged against her, his arms immediately snaking around her waist to clutch at her back, his face dropping down into her neck.

“You were just trying to get away– you would have died, if you didn’t…” Y/N pressed her ear to Taehyung’s chest, listening to it slow a few beats with each passing second. “I can’t believe the owners of the sawmill just let you and your friends get taken like that, I can’t even imagine how afraid you all must have been.”

Taehyung pulled away a fraction to angle his face inches from hers, a peculiar expression on his features as he regarded her carefully. Tightening her grip around his shoulders, Y/N feared that if she let him go, he’d disappear forever. Giving him a shaky half-smile, she pushed a curl of inky hair out of his eye, hoping she was no longer worrying him with her previous anxiety. 

“But I killed that man, Y/N. Technically, I’m a fugitive– just telling you all of this puts you in danger, puts you in a position where you would have to choose to lie or turn me in,” Taehyung breathed, a decibel above a whisper. 

Y/N had already thought of this. If Taehyung was a human that was being trafficked, a lawyer could argue that he had acted in self-defense. However, since he was a hybrid, Y/N wasn’t sure if he’d be afforded the same kinds of rights, which honestly made her sick to her stomach. She couldn’t fathom turning Taehyung in, truthfully alarmed that he would even think so, considering she had adopted all the hybrids to prevent the very fate Taehyung almost suffered from twice. 

“I’m not turning you in, Tae. When I adopted you, it was to prevent all of you getting taken away by someone who had the same intentions as those CEOs when you were thrown into the back of a box truck. I wanted you all to be safe, here,” Y/N insisted, feeling the Kodiak hybrid wind his fingertips into her tee shirt over her shoulder blades.

“You’re not afraid anymore,” Taehyung mumbled, a blush forming across his cheeks and nose with her words. Nodding, she agreed, feeling more protective than ever over the Kodiak hybrid. “I figured you’d be terrified of me once I told you.”

“No, no,” Y/N shook her head quickly, nose skimming Taehyung’s chest with the movement. “I think anyone would have defended themselves like that if put in the same situation, myself included. I’m glad you told me. I know a bit more about you now, and you said you weren’t going to hurt me… I trust you.”

Straightening up a bit, Y/N watched Taehyung’s ears twitch slightly in reaction to her confession, his hands moving from her shoulder blades to her upper arms, pushing her lightly away from his proximity so he could look at her more clearly. The mood shifted immediately with the expression on his face, a different, more sensual tension filling the room and making her breath catch in her throat. It was as if she had uttered some magic words to cast a spell over him, his tongue catching over his lower lip as he drank in her appearance with lidded eyes. 

“You trust me?” Taehyung repeated, eyes flickering from her own to the loose collar of her large tee shirt, using a pointer finger to press at a fluttering pulse point by one of her clavicles. Oh. Shuddering from the chilly temperature of his fingertip, Y/N shut her eyes and tilted her head back onto the glass pane behind her, humming in response. “If you trust me, then… I trust you.”

Taehyung must have bent down, Y/N’s eyes shooting open at the sensation of his silky hair tickling the skin of her neck as he pressed his face into the dip of her collarbones. Trying her best to relax her posture, as she had a suspicion as to what he was about to do, Y/N used a free hand to thread her fingers through the curls on the back of his head. 

She felt Taehyung take a sharp inhale against her sensitive skin, the tips of her ears burning with embarrassment due to the turn of events. Y/N supposed that if Taehyung was going to scent her now, it was much preferred over him waiting to feel sick like Namjoon, Seokjin, and Yoongi had. She tilted her chin up to give the Kodiak hybrid better access to the spot below her throat he was mapping out with traces of the tip of his nose and brushes of his eyelashes. Still, with the light touches, Y/N could immediately sense lingering hesitancy in the way Taehyung held back from sinking his teeth into her. 

“Tae? It’s alright, you can–”

Whimpering, her words died on her tongue with the sting of razor-sharp incisors piercing into the base of her throat. Notes of desperation in the bite were absent compared to the last three she received, one of Taehyung’s hands wrapped loosely around her bicep, the other using two fingers poised under her chin to keep her neck craned back. Hissing with pain, the location he had chosen to scent her extremely tender and thin-skinned, Y/N involuntarily tugged on a fistful of Taehyung’s curls. The knee-jerk reaction caused a deep rumble to roll through Taehyung’s chest darkly. 

Crowding Y/N against the chilled window, Taehyung pushed one of his legs between her thighs to press his body closer into her proximity. Reeling with his teeth still in her neck, Y/N began to tremble, squeaking when Taehyung reached behind his head to remove her hand from his hair, intertwining their fingers together before pinning her hand to the wall beside her. Overwhelmed, Y/N’s eyes fluttered shut, beginning to feel lightheaded as the enzymes coating Taehyung’s teeth entered her bloodstream. 

Weakened, she dug her fingernails into Taehyung’s shoulder, her other hand immobilized in his grasp. The pain of the bite had vanished, a sharp sigh of bliss falling from Y/N’s lips as Taehyung pulled his teeth out from the puncture wounds. With a heavy lave of his tongue over the bite, Y/N shivered with delight, the room around her coming in and out of focus as the majority of her weight became supported on Taehyung’s thigh wedged between her own two. Still, she could hear the low rumbling from within Taehyung’s chest as he graphically swiped his tongue over her collarbone, Y/N’s ears beginning to ring from the haziness brought on by the enzymes in the hybrid’s saliva. 

“Mmph– ugh,” Y/N slurred groggily as her limp hand slid from Taehyung’s shoulder, having difficulty keeping her head tilted back as he continued to map out patterns on her clavicle with his tongue. She was caught in a daze, foggy brain trying its best to process not only everything Taehyung had told her about his past and what he had done, but the very unexpected turn of events of him pressing her up against a window to scent her afterwards. 

While she was trapped in her daze, she felt Taehyung carefully pull away from her, threading an arm around her waist to guide her away from the window, Y/N leaning her entire body weight against his side as he gracefully lead her to the closest seat– the stool by her vanity. Locking eyes with Taehyung in the mirror as he lowered her down, she smiled at him dopily, his expression once again becoming stoic and hard to read. His lower lip was stained with her blood; it was pretty.

“Feel better?” Y/N heard herself ask, Taehyung cracking a slight smile at her garbled speech, nodding almost imperceptibly as his tongue peaked out to catch the blood on his lip. Resting her chin in her palm, she eyed the fresh bite by her throat, a slight glisten of saliva still visible in the lamplight. The site tingled.

Interrupting her post-bite buzz, a rather large crash came from the wall in front of her, the mirror rattling against the wall as Y/N widened her eyes at Taehyung’s reflection in fright. She had forgotten that the other hybrids could have been listening in on her and Taehyung’s interaction, and whose room was just several feet away from her own. Namjoon. 

Immediately, the Kodiak hybrid’s jaw became tense and his ears flattened against his head, eyebrows knitting together as his fists clenched. Flinching, Y/N heard the slider door from above her slam shut, and more chaos from behind the wall in front of her. It sounded like Namjoon was knocking things over, and pretty quickly the angry sounds snapped her right out of her clouded haze. Taehyung remained frozen, eyes narrowing with each thud coming from the room over.

“Shit,” Y/N hissed upon hearing a particularly thunderous sound of something clattering to the floor, fumbling her way to her feet frantically. Heart racing, she winced as her foot collided with the vanity sharply, blindly making her way to the door out to the hall. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Taehyung stopped her at the door after finally unfreezing from his spot, his hand placed over hers on the doorknob and his voice laced with urgency. 

Furrowing her eyebrows, Y/N nodded towards the hall as if to say what do you mean, don’t you hear that, yanking the door open to find the hallway flooded with light, Namjoon’s door open. 

“Y/N, stop. Let me handle this,” Taehyung pleaded quietly, gripping her wrist as she closed in on the short distance between her bedroom and the wolf hybrid’s. 

“No, Tae. Something could be wrong, he could have hurt himself– fuck, everybody else is going to wake up, at this point,” Y/N replied when the harsh scrape of Namjoon’s desk chair undoubtedly marked up the floorboards. Reluctantly, Taehyung followed her to the threshold peering into the wolf hybrid’s room. 

The bedroom was a mess. Namjoon had torn his sheets and comforter off of his bed, a few of his articles of clothing were strewn about. A tee shirt was hanging precariously off of the lamp by his desk, the wooden workspace cleared of all items as if he had swiped his hand across the surface and knocked everything to the ground. Several books were thrown from the large bookcase on the wall and landed in heaps on the floor, and the bench by the window had been overturned. The wolf hybrid, however, was nowhere to be seen. Blood drained from her face at the state of his room, Y/N felt unease creep into her gut once again, Taehyung stepping around her with his shoulders squared. 

With purpose, Taehyung marched towards Namjoon’s shut bathroom door, light peeking out from beneath it indicating that the wolf hybrid was within. All at once, Taehyung began pounding at the door, teeth gritted, as Y/N sprung into motion to try and pull the Kodiak hybrid away. Guilt festered within her, knowing that everyone in the house was definitely awake by now with all the noise, and all at once she felt like she wasn’t doing a very good job of taking care of the hybrids so far. 

“Tae, stop! The others might be sleep–” Y/N let go of his arm as soon as the door was wrenched open, an absolutely livid looking Namjoon appeared in the doorway, hair and shirt dripping wet as if he stepped into the shower still clothed. He was still wearing the outfit he had to the cookout; Y/N realized Namjoon likely never even went to bed in the first place. 

“Sleeping?” Namjoon spit, Y/N’s mouth slamming shut at the malice dripping from his tone, the wolf hybrid’s dangerously narrowed amber eyes focused on Taehyung as he seemed to tower over the latter, taking several steps forward while her and Taehyung backed up a few inches in response. 

“Nam–” Y/N squeaked, blinking as Namjoon put a hand up to cut her off, not even sparing her a glance as he continued to stalk into Taehyung’s personal space. 

“Quiet,” he barked, Taehyung going stiff with the wolf hybrid’s command, which was obviously directed at her. With his nearest hand and without breaking eye contact with Namjoon, Taehyung pushed Y/N back and behind him protectively, away from the direct line of fire. 

“What are you doing in here?” Taehyung growled, free hand gesturing around the wreckage of Namjoon’s bedroom. Shivering, Y/N felt a breeze roll in from one of Namjoon’s open windows, her bare legs beginning to shake. 

Flashing his sharpened canines, Namjoon took a big step forward, getting right in Taehyung’s face dangerously. The tension in the room became unbearable, and Y/N had no idea how to diffuse it– part of her wanted to seek out help from the others, but didn’t know if that would make things worse, and she didn’t want to leave the two at each other’s throats alone in the room. 

“I knew there was something fucking wrong with you,” Namjoon began savagely, Y/N’s panic settling in more quickly as both hybrids chests began to rumble with barely-contained growling. “How long, exactly, were you planning on keeping everyone in the dark?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, wolf,” Taehyung scoffed, Y/N grimacing– wrong answer. Judging by Taehyung’s locked up posture, he knew exactly what Namjoon was talking about. The fur on Namjoon’s silvery tail was standing on end, his eyes flashing in anger.

“Fuck off, don’t act ignorant,” Namjoon accused, using the flat of his palm to shove Taehyung back a few inches, the strike landing sharply on the Kodiak hybrid’s shoulder and making him stumble backwards from the impact. “You’re a murderer, you fucking killed a human. Just by being here, you’ve put every single one of us in this house at risk!”

Heart plummeting to her toes, Y/N stumbled backwards onto Namjoon’s bare mattress, unable to keep her weakened knees steady any longer. So, Namjoon had heard her and Taehyung’s entire exchange, which led her to the conclusion that Jeongguk, separated only by thin sheets of drywall and hardwood above her bedroom, had as well. She could only imagine who else was listening in, praying that no one else had quite the reaction Namjoon was experiencing. 

Taehyung was apparently stunned into silence, though Y/N had a suspicion that Taehyung knew better than she did about just how sensitive hybrid sense of hearing was, and the likely event that many of the others in the home had heard what he had confessed to Y/N earlier. Recovering from Namjoon’s shove, Taehyung straightened up, preventing himself from being pinned against the desk. 

“Nothing to say now, huh? Easy to spill your guts to someone who would forgive her own executioner, you coward. Ridiculous… we all smelled that human blood on your jacket in the shelter, even when it was confiscated by that piece of shit shelter worker. I was the last to get dumped there, and I still knew you were fucked up. You still have the jacket, reeking of filth upstairs in a closet!” 

With each statement, the volume of Namjoon’s voice grew to the point where he was shouting. Horrified, Y/N pulled herself off of his bed, trying her best to muster up the courage to intervene. In the distance, she could hear the ancient creaking of the old floorboards responding to several pairs of footsteps rushing to the scene of the commotion. Taehyung appeared to take a breath, attempting to distance himself from the hostile wolf hybrid. 

“If you heard everything, then–” Taehyung countered, swiftly cut off by a dark chuckle coming from Namjoon. 

“No shit, I heard everything, I’m about 200 feet from her bedroom,” Namjoon spat condescendingly. “What exactly is your plan, here? If authorities end up tracking you down, or one of your buddies rat you out, what does that mean for the rest of us? Are we supposed to act like we don’t know anything?”

Taehyung blinked, a shadow crossing over his face. Nails digging into her palms as she squeezed her hands into fists, Y/N caught a glimpse of movement in the hallway; the swish of a spotted tail and hushed whispering. Yoongi and Seokjin were lingering in the hall, from the looks and sounds of it. 

“You know, it’s one thing to kill another hybrid, but a human? Don’t you know what would happen to you if you’re caught? And to drag her into this…” Namjoon stabbed a finger into Taehyung’s chest, the latter gritting his teeth and batting Namjoon’s hand away. 

“I’m not letting anything happen to her,” Taehyung snapped, voice thick with anger. “If they find me, I’ll tell them she knew nothing about my past.”

“Until they torture it out of you, or you let it slip,” Namjoon retorted matter-of-factly, Taehyung’s expression growing even more furious. “By the way… how do we know that you won’t attempt to kill us all in our sleep so you can get away now that we know your secret?”

By now, the tips of Namjoon’s human set of ears were red with rage, lost within the spiral of his thoughts. Tearing a hole in the skin of her lower lip, Y/N reacted impulsively, approaching the two cautiously with her hands up. 

“H-hey, Namjoon, I think we should all take a breath–”

As if suddenly remembering Y/N was in the room, Namjoon snapped his head down to look at her scathingly, the muscles in his jaw twitching with agitation. 

“And you. You’re okay with all of this, harboring a murderous fugitive? I’ve seriously overestimated your judgment capabilities. Then again, you actually adopted seven hybrids labeled as dangerous in the databases, so I’m wondering why I’m so shocked by your lack of self preservation,” Namjoon crossed his arms over his chest, tail swishing furiously behind him. Insulted, Y/N ignored Taehyung’s growling growing in volume, as well as the stunned silence from the hallway. 

“I don’t think you’re being fair right now, Namjoon. I understand you’re angry, but you can’t just lash out at the people around you like this,” Y/N pointed out with a wag of her finger, an incredulous look blooming across Namjoon’s face. Turning his body to face her more fully, Namjoon bent down to get closer to her face. 

“So now you’re telling me how to react in response to your foolishness? Is that it? I can’t make an assessment of you? Is it because of your massive savior complex, or that your spoiled rich girl lifestyle protected you from criticism all this time?” Namjoon coldly inquired, his sharp eyes dropping from her face to the fresh bite along her collarbone, extending a digit to prod at the wound. “You even allowed him to fucking scent you after finding out who he is. Stupid girl.”

As soon as Namjoon spat out his insults, Y/N felt his words sting like a slap across the face. With the acidity at which he uttered each word, Y/N realized he truly felt that way about her; that she was in over her head, naive, spoiled and stupid. The realization had her heart shattering in her chest, tears immediately gathering in her eyes as she stared at the floor with her throat beginning to close up. When Jeongguk had made her cry the night she brought him home, she tried her best to get away from the hybrids before they could see the tears, but Y/N was so stunned by the hurtful words that she was rooted to her spot. 

Before the first tear could roll down her cheek, Taehyung sprung into action, roughly tearing Namjoon’s hand away from Y/N’s clavicle and shoving the wolf hybrid by his shoulders so strongly Namjoon stumbled back into his bed frame. Blood pounded loudly in her ears, distantly hearing Namjoon’s cursing as he grabbed Taehyung by the collar of his tee shirt.

Barely registering the events around her, Y/N sunk into a crouch, wrapping her arms around her knees as she let her tears flow freely, not even caring that she was whimpering pathetically. With everything that had transpired in the past week, between the adoptions, the paranormal situation in the house, and trying to remain as upbeat as possible in the face of each hiccup, Y/N was truly exhausted and she finally let herself feel the strain of it all. She realized she was way out of her depth, clearly unable to handle taking care of the hybrids considering two of them were about to tear each other apart, the thought making her so miserable she began to gasp with the beginnings of a panic attack. 

“You fucking. Bastard,” Taehyung roared, using an elbow to jab Namjoon in the ribs in an attempt to get the wolf hybrid to let go of his shirt collar. “Talking to her like that, laying a finger on her! You take it out on me, not on her!”

“Gladly, you prick,” Namjoon grunted, taking a swing at Taehyung’s face, Y/N unable to see if his fist collided with his cheek as her vision began to spot. Taehyung staggered backwards from the impact, Y/N stiffening as the Kodiak hybrid spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor by her feet. The half-open door to Namjoon’s bedroom swung open with a smack against the wall, thunderous footsteps cutting through the noise of the brawl. 

“The fuck!” Came a new voice, Y/N distantly recognizing it as Jeongguk’s smoky tone as his quickened heavy tread pounded into the room. Dread washing over her as she expected an escalation of the violence, Y/N lifted her head from her knees. “Are you two morons going to keep going until you destroy the place, or until you kill each other?”

“Stay out of th–” Namjoon began, Jeongguk cutting him off with a humorless snort. 

“Shut the fuck up. This ends now, you’ve both done enough to ruin tonight for everybody. You have that girl on the floor shaking like a goddamn leaf and the whole house reeks of her doom and gloom, you fucking assholes.”

Taehyung’s shoulders deflated, looking down and behind at Y/N’s crumpled form on the floor, and Y/N could see how ashamed he became as soon as his eyes swept over the carnage of his and Namjoon’s fight. Y/N was more taken aback by Jeongguk’s intervention, not expecting him to break apart the fight so willingly, staring at his confident posture in a new light.

The elk hybrid was still dressed in his outfit from earlier, a deep scowl on his face as he got between the other two. Disgust was written all over the placement of his mouth with the way he was biting down on his lip ring harshly, both Namjoon and Taehyung bloodied and chests heaving– Jeongguk’s sentiments and interruption temporarily sobering them. 

Jeongguk snapped his fingers and nodded towards the hall, turning his back on Taehyung and beginning to haul Namjoon out of the room by swiftly and expertly binding his arms together in the blink of an eye. Thrashing in the elk hybrid’s clearly ironlike grip, Namjoon had no choice but to begin to be dragged out of the room, too busy trying to wrench himself free to spare Y/N on the floor a glance. Jeongguk, however, with his lips pressed together, offered her the slightest sympathetic expression, his midnight eyes ever so pitiful as he glanced her way. Her body still quaking, Y/N doubted if Jeongguk would be able to handle calming Namjoon down on his own, fearing the worst. Hearing Namjoon’s loud protests as Jeongguk dragged him away, she felt herself go numb, her brain at capacity for processing anything else that evening.

After several beats, she sensed another presence behind her and flinched as she felt a tentative hand land on her shoulder, looking up and wondering when Yoongi had snuck into the room. His face was slightly puffy from likely being woken from sleep and his pajamas were wrinkled, slowly lowering to Y/N’s level. He said nothing, his eyes soft as he cupped her face, using his thumbs to tenderly wipe away the tears tracking down her cheeks. The action had more moisture falling from her lash line, melting into the affectionate gesture, Yoongi cooing quietly. 

“It’s gonna be alright, sweetheart,” Yoongi murmured, his spiced vanilla scent enveloping Y/N due to his intimate proximity. Swiping his thumbs across her skin once more before pulling away all too soon, he stood upright again. “Come on, you– let’s get some air,” Yoongi stalked over to Taehyung, who was using the hem of his shirt to dab blood away from his mouth robotically.

As Yoongi hooked a hand around Taehyung’s elbow to lead him out without protest from the latter, Y/N heard additional footsteps enter the room rapidly as she dropped her head back down to her knees. Too drained to see who it was, Y/N waited for whoever it was to speak, praying it wouldn’t be someone else angry with her. 

“Miss Y/N, let me help you stand. We need to get you something warm to drink, you’re trembling,” Jimin’s devastatingly gentle voice met her ears, Y/N finally managing to stop crying after several moments of taking deep breaths. 

“Okay,” Y/N croaked, knowing that she would have a hard time facing everybody the next day. She had no idea how she’d be able to do damage control between Taehyung and Namjoon, let alone look at the wolf hybrid without breaking down. 

Gingerly, Jimin bent down from behind her, his minty breath washing over her as he wrapped an arm around her waist to lift her to her feet while bearing most of her weight in his arms. She let Jimin keep his arm around her waist, her body practically curling into his warmth as the coyote hybrid made sure she was supported against him, using his free hand to rub up and down one of her forearms to try and rid her skin of goosebumps. Carefully, Jimin started walking her out into the hall in the direction of the lowly lit kitchen, the rest of the house so quiet it was as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred at all. 

“Sorry that woke you, Jimin. There are probably a thousand ways I could have handled that better,” Y/N mumbled, unable to look him in the eye as she stared down at his pajama pants.

 As they crossed into the foyer, Y/N noticed the door to the basement was shut, biting her lip when she remembered Hoseok’s fear of wolves. The fight couldn’t have made his aversion to Namjoon any better, and she prayed he was okay in the basement by himself. She’d definitely have to check on him early in the morning.

“Nothing to apologize for, Miss Y/N. Those two were out of line, and they know it,” Jimin assured her urgently with a roughened edge to his voice, the arm around her waist tightening with emphasis. 

The porch light was on outside of the front door, Y/N catching a glimpse of Yoongi’s long hair in the door’s window as he appeared to be talking to Taehyung, presumably. If anyone could swallow their pride enough to talk things through calmly with the Kodiak hybrid, it was Yoongi. 

“No, Jimin… I should have just kept my mouth shut about my mother’s vision. I mean, I don’t regret learning more about Taehyung’s past. But maybe I should have talked to him about it elsewhere, let him tell the rest of you when he was ready,” Y/N lamented, dropping her cheek to Jimin’s shoulder as he inched her into the kitchen. “Now look at the mess I’ve made. Everyone’s involved now.”

Jimin hummed low in his throat, maneuvering Y/N onto a cushiony barstool by nimbly hoisting her up by her hips, his grip delicate as he lifted her with his thumbs resting on her hip bones. With the angle, she was face-to-face with the coyote hybrid, who was examining her with unreadable citrine eyes. Ears turning backwards against his head, Y/N observed it was the first time Jimin looked truly canine, his pointed incisors prodding against his thick lower lip in thought. 

“Despite how Taehyung revealed his past to you, what happened in Namjoon’s room was unwarranted. Namjoon was cruel, and the both of them resorting to physical violence in front of you was nothing short of unacceptable. Don’t apologize– how could you have prepared for something like that, Miss Y/N?” 

Jimin brushed some of Y/N’s hair from her forehead, making sure she was supported well enough on the barstool by placing a hand on her shoulder to ease her against the backrest. Once confident that she wasn’t going to collapse on the floor, Jimin got to work readying a mug and a tea bag while keeping an eye on her across the island. She turned his words over in her mind as his back was to her placing the mug into the microwave, eyes on his full, sandy colored tail pulled through the hole sewn into his pajama pants. 

“Namjoon hates me,” Y/N whispered, feeling so dejected even Jimin’s carefully-chosen words of comfort couldn’t pull her out of it. 

Pulling the steaming mug from the microwave, Jimin sighed, using a spoon to stir a bit of honey into the tea. Rounding the island, he slid the mug in front of Y/N, rubbing soothing circles into her back as he sought out her eyes that were trained on the dark granite of the countertop. 

“No, he doesn’t. I have a feeling Namjoon hasn’t had much experience dealing with people and their emotions, let alone his own. That’s not an excuse, of course… but he doesn’t hate you, I promise,” Jimin assured, the cadence of his voice calming as he nudged the mug closer to her, encouraging her to take a sip. 

“You think?” Y/N uttered, voice small. She took a sip of the sweetened chamomile, the scent alone making her feel an increment better.

“I know it. He’s a wolf hybrid, he wouldn’t have scented you if he hated you, Miss Y/N,” Jimin confirmed, a tiny pleased smile stretching across his face as he watched her sip her tea obediently. Y/N was too tired to read into the implications behind what Namjoon’s species of hybrid had to do with anything, but she was sure to tuck away the hint for when she was less emotionally raw. 

“Jimin, thank you,” Y/N wrapped one of her arms around his wiry shoulders, pulling him in for a somewhat weak side-hug, enjoying his warmth and kindness. “You know, you don’t have to keep calling me ‘Miss’... my name is just fine. Makes me feel closer to you.”

Jimin chuckled with this, his nose in her hair as she hugged him into her side. Putting down her drained mug of tea, Y/N released the coyote hybrid, giving him an earnest smile amidst all of the uncertainty she was feeling. His expression was fond, and Y/N couldn’t believe how lovely he was. 

“That’s just how I was raised, a hard habit to shake. If it makes you happy, I’ll call you just Y/N,” Jimin granted, taking her mug away and moving away to place it into the dishwasher, a sparkle in his eyes. “Are you feeling a little better? You should get some rest, now.”

“Mm, I feel better. I should get some sleep… got some damage control to do tomorrow,” Y/N confirmed, desperately feeling like she needed a hug. She felt weird about pulling Jimin in for another embrace, however, even as he took her hand to help her down from the barstool. “You should head to bed, too, Jimin. It’s been a long day, I’m sure you’re exhausted as well.”

Just then, Y/N heard a faint buzzing sound, Jimin furrowing his brows as he fumbled for his phone in the pocket of his pajama pants. Equally confused, Y/N watched as Jimin distractedly led her out into the hallway, one hand gripping hers loosely and the other flicking through the notification. 

“Oh, it's Jeongguk…” Jimin murmured, eyes roaming over an apparent text message. Tensing, Y/N squeezed his palm, hoping he’d relay anything of importance to her. 

“Jimin, I think he wants to speak with you out back,” Y/N tore her eyes from the phone grasped in Jimin’s hand, registering Seokjin standing by the staircase in front of her. 

Y/N had forgotten he was one of the voices in the hallway when the fight broke out, his face tired as Y/N got a closer look at him. The woodsy scent of the outdoors was clinging to him as he approached her and Jimin, the dew-damp slides on his feet telling her that he had likely just come in from outside. Jimin nodded, reluctantly withdrawing his hand from Y/N’s grip, shooting her an apologetic half smile. 

“Yeah, that’s what his message said. I’ll go see what he needs,” Jimin straightened up with purpose, turning on his heels to head back into the kitchen and out the back door. “Seokjin, make sure she gets to bed? Goodnight, Y/N,” Jimin called lowly, disappearing into the dim kitchen with the swish of his tail. 

Y/N’s bare legs were beginning to feel numb from both standing and the chilly temperature blowing in from the open window in Namjoon’s bedroom she and Seokjin were lingering in front of. Her heart sank, assessing the mess that was made in his room. She'd definitely have to spend some time cleaning it up the next day– mopping blood off the floor, making sure nothing was broken. 

“Y/N? Come on, let’s go,” Seokjin stepped in front of her, blocking the view of Namjoon’s bedroom and extending a palm forward. Easily, Y/N grasped onto Seokjin’s warm hand, his fingers closing gently around her own digits. “There won’t be any more fighting tonight, we’ll all make sure of it, so you can rest easy.”

Casting one more look towards the front door as she allowed Seokjin to tow her along, she noticed the bulb on the front porch flickering on and off, muffled voices from the other side of the door paying the light no mind. Shivering, Y/N shook her head, shuffling closer to Seokjin and tucking into his side, the nagging feeling of needing some physical contact and comfort returning. In response, Seokjin’s tail wound around the back of her thigh, the silky fur warming up the flesh that it touched, and she fleetingly wondered if the action was mindless or purposeful. 

Her room was as she had left it prior to the commotion coming from Namjoon’s room, her quilt messy on her bed, stained glass lamp on her nightstand casting a whimsical pattern on the walls of the mulberry room. Pulling her to the side of her bed, Y/N could make out Seokjin’s dark eyelashes, his rounded blue-black ears, and the curve of his lips in the lamplight that illuminated his side profile.

“Do you need to use the bathroom, or are you okay?” Seokjin asked in a low voice, letting go of her hand to straighten out her quilt for her. He definitely seemed disturbed, creases around his mouth alluding to a bit of a frown. 

“No I’m fine, just a little cold,” Y/N replied, sitting on her bed where Seokjin had folded the quilt back. Seokjin chuckled lightly, pulling the thick material of the quilt up over her legs while she scooted down on her mattress. 

“That’s because you’re not wearing any pants,” Seokjin teased, using one hand to tuck the quilt under her body and the other to boop her nose. The action triggered a small giggle, the first tingle of amusement she had in hours. “You’re not a hybrid, either. Your blood doesn’t run as hot as ours.”

“Hmm, so that’s why you’re always so warm,” Y/N mused, smirking as Seokjin slipped the quilt up under her chin, his frown lines disappearing as she spoke. Even in the slight darkness, Y/N could see how vibrant his eye color was, fiery like the sunrise reflecting off of a tranquil lake. 

“Try to get some sleep, alright?” Seokjin whispered, fingers grasping the chain attached to her lamp to shut it off, Y/N tearing her arm from beneath the blanket and frantically grasping for his wrist to halt his movements. He looked back at her with surprise, eyebrows pulled together. “What’s the matter? Do you want the light on?”

Squirming beneath the covers, Y/N didn’t know how to put what she needed into words. She didn’t want Seokjin to leave. Being alone was the last thing she wanted at that moment, the thought of it making her so uncomfortable she could hardly stand it. 

“Uh… I don’t know how to, um…” Y/N floundered, still holding onto the jaguar hybrid’s wrist like a lifeline. 

“Do you–”

“Can you stay with me, please? I don’t want to be alone right now,” Y/N confessed quickly, squeezing her eyes shut and preparing for rejection. Seokjin was probably bone tired, and judging from his earlier look of perturbation, she had the feeling he wasn’t exactly pleased with the events that had unfolded that night. “You can say no. I just feel like I need a hug, or something… it’s childish, I know.”

A low rumble came from Seokjin’s chest, one of Y/N’s eyes cracking open at the gravelly sound. He seemed to be conflicted, eyes darting from her form to her sliding glass door that led out into the backyard, one of his feline ears twitching. She planned on simply letting it go, rolling over and allowing Seokjin to slip from the room after his declination, eyes slipping shut once more. Under her eyelids, the warm glow of the lamp cut off with the tinny yanking sound of the chain, Y/N accepting that he’d likely take his leave at any moment. 

“I’ll stay,” Seokjin agreed as soon as the light was off, Y/N’s eyes snapping open in surprise, only able to register a kaleidoscope of reds and blues as her sight struggled to adjust to the darkness. After a short series of what sounded like scuffling around her bed to the other unoccupied side, he spoke again. “You want me to lie down?”

Logic so far from penetrating her thoughts, Y/N immediately turned onto her opposite side to fold back the quilt for Seokjin, promptly fluffing the empty pillow laying beside her for him. 

“Please?” Y/N squeaked, weakly patting the empty spot on her mattress to encourage the jaguar hybrid. Though she could hardly see him, the only source of light coming from faint moonlight filtering in through her windows, the outline of his form was still visible. 

A sound between a chuckle and a purr came from Seokjin, the vacant side of her mattress dipping with his weight as he situated himself beside her, arranging her quilt around himself as Y/N could already feel his comforting warmth soothing her. He was close enough for Y/N to smell the eucalyptus shampoo he’d been using. Silence enveloped them, Y/N able to count his measured breaths as her eyes adjusted to the darkness, finally able to make Seokjin’s face out from beside her. Rolling over onto his side to face her, Seokjin gave her a small smile, Y/N surprised to see a feline eyeshine blinking back at her. He glowed, and she realized that there were so many interesting things about hybrids she learned about every second she spent time with them. 

“Right… You wanted a hug? Come closer, then,” Seokjin broke the silence, lifting his arm a few degrees, apparently expecting Y/N to scooch into his embrace. 

“U-uh, really? You sure?” Y/N stuttered, hoping she hadn’t backed him into a corner as he inched closer to her curled-up frame. 

“I’m sure, yeah. Come here, you’re still shivering,” Seokjin insisted with the velvety feeling of his tail brushing over the side of her thigh; the warm weight of it making her eyelids flutter. “It’s okay.”

After his firm assurance, Y/N wiggled her body closer to Seokjin’s warmth, shuddering once she was near enough for him to wrap his heavy arm around her waist and drag her flush to his body. Purring lowly as he adjusted, Y/N was still as he smoothly positioned her against his broad chest, the delicious waves of heat coming from his skin killing the chill that had been plaguing her. 

“Mmm. Thank you, Jin,” Y/N yawned, tucking her nose into the crook of his collarbone as he seemed to freeze at the mention of his nickname. His tail wound more tightly around her thigh in response, her legs nearly tangling with his own due to proximity. “M’ sorry about tonight.”

Seokjin’s hand inched around her waist and traveled up to her mid-back, holding her more securely as his free arm snaked beneath Y/N’s pillow so he could rest his palm in her hair. The embrace was intimate, Y/N pretty much melting into a puddle as her nose skimmed the column of his throat, eyelashes fluttering tiredly against his skin. She could feel his chest rumbling with purrs due to the way her upper body was pressed against him. Settling her hands over his pectorals to better feel the comforting vibrations, Y/N was already steadily slipping into unconsciousness. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Seokjin murmured suddenly, stroking the back of her head softly. Angling her face away from his neck, Y/N sought out his glowing eyes in response. 

“I just want you all to be happy, to feel safe. I’m not doing such a bang-up job so far in accomplishing that,” Y/N lamented, drumming her fingers lightly against Seokjin’s chest. She could feel his steady heartbeat through his shirt. His chest deflated a bit as he let out a gentle sigh. 

“Well, I’m happy. And we’re all safe. Thinking like that will send you spiraling, Y/N… you need to get some sleep. Things will be better in the morning, I promise.”

“You’re happy?” Y/N whispered insecurely, the corner of Seokjin’s mouth quirking upwards. 

“Mm-hm. I am,” Seokjin confirmed, leaning forward, his wavy hair falling into his face. To her great surprise, Seokjin planted a firm kiss on her forehead, the cushiony feeling of his lips on her skin making her toes curl. As he pulled away, he used the hand on the back of her head to angle her face back into the crook of his neck. “Close your eyes, try to sleep for a bit.”

Stunned by the kiss, her face flushing violently, Y/N nuzzled her face as far as she could into his collarbones, taking it as her cue to quiet down and attempt to drift off to sleep. Seokjin’s purring resumed, his tail slackening around her thigh and resting there heavily. 

After her heart calmed down from Seokjin’s affectionate gesture, Y/N felt the heavy curtain of exhaustion drape over her, and paired with the warmth of another body curled around her, she was out in a matter of minutes. 

In the morning, it was difficult to open her swollen eyes, likely from how hard she had cried during the fight between Namjoon and Taehyung. As soon as she came to consciousness, she remembered the previous night's events so vividly, she didn’t even have a chance to start the day in a good mood. To add to her glumness, it seemed that Seokjin had snuck out of her room at some point, the space he occupied beside her cold with the quilt neatly made up. Truthfully, she was grateful that he had stayed with her long enough for her to fall asleep, but she wished that his face could have been the first thing she saw when she woke up. 

After dragging herself out of bed and taking a full shower, Y/N stared at herself in the bathroom mirror distractedly as she blow-dried her hair. She couldn’t hear much going on in the house outside of her bedroom, but she wasn’t really paying attention anyhow. She was absolutely dreading damage control. Checking up on Hoseok was definitely her first priority, then cleaning up Namjoon’s bedroom– but there was also the matter of examining and treating Namjoon and Taehyung’s injuries, and she was not looking forward to interacting with either of them, truthfully. 

Grumbling, Y/N slipped on a pair of denim shorts and a ribbed cocoa tank top, the weather app telling her it was an oppressively humid and sweltering day, the plastic soles of her slides slapping against her hardwood floors as she prepared herself to metaphorically rip the band-aid off. Pausing by the door, she pressed an ear to the wood, trying to make out any sounds out in the hallway before she exited the room. All that she could hear was the occasional clanging of a wooden spoon against the side of a skillet. 

“Alright, let’s do this,” Y/N muttered to herself, surprised that she was past the hurt she felt last night– now, she mostly felt peeved. Jimin was right, a physical altercation was totally uncalled for, and she intended on making that clear to both Namjoon and Taehyung, even if the Kodiak hybrid was attempting to defend her in that way. 

Pushing her door open, Y/N completely avoided even looking towards Namjoon’s door, passing by swiftly and marching straight to the entrance of the basement. As she thudded down the stairs with purpose, Y/N was confident Hoseok would be able to tell it was her by her scent, the gym area darkened and all of the lights in the bathroom off as well. The sliding pocket door to Hoseok’s bedroom was shut, Y/N assuming he was still in there as she heard him shuffling around from within. 

“Hey, Hoseok. Can we talk? Are you alright in there?” Y/N called gently, waiting patiently for him to pad towards his door and open up. 

A well-oiled metal sliding sound rang out through the basement as the fox hybrid appeared in the doorway, purplish shadows under his clever mocha eyes and his ears drooping downwards and sideways. He was dressed in fresh clothes, at least, in a white tee shirt and his light linen pants, and seemed to have showered judging by how clean he smelled and his slightly-damp auburn hair. 

“Good morning,” Hoseok offered weakly, gesturing for her to come into his room. He kept things neat, a couple of comic books he must have found in the upstairs library littering the top of his desk and the round chair in the corner of the room. The bedroom smelled like him, like fresh air, woody, clean. “I should be asking you if you’re alright. You were in the thick of it, last night. I should have intervened…”

Hoseok rambled, a frown settling over his features, shifting from one foot to another. Y/N shook her head, reaching for his hand and squeezing his palm. 

“Seokjin told me not too long ago about your phobia of wolves,” Y/N confessed, watching Hoseok’s tail start to wag back and forth anxiously. “I was concerned about you down here by yourself last night… that must have been frightening for you to listen to, I’m really sorry, Hoseok.”

Hoseok’s frown deepened, letting go of her hand to run it through his hair with stress. Cocking her head curiously, she opened her mouth once more to try and comfort him further, but he spoke first. 

“Even if I do have an aversion to wolves, I still should have gone up there to help break it up. I can’t believe Namjoon said all of that shit to you, who does he think he is?” Hoseok snapped, though his frustration clearly wasn’t directed towards her. 

“I don’t know, Hoseok. He’s entitled to his… opinions, even about me. But I’m not tolerating any more violence in our home, that’s for damn sure. And I’ll be making that clear to him and Taehyung when I go up to face the music,” Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to avoid bringing up the elephant in the room– the crime Taehyung admitted to committing.

“The elk broke up the fight, huh? With Yoongi, no less. Guess they buried the hatchet in the nick of time,” Hoseok changed the subject, Y/N getting the feeling he was trying to avoid talking about both Taehyung and his phobia. She felt like one of the two needed to be addressed, sooner rather than later. 

“Hoseok, can I ask you something about your phobia? Is there something that happened to cause it?” Y/N tried to catch his eyes, noting that his ears pressed down even harder against his head with her words. “I’m only asking because I think I’d be able to help you work on it. I’d hate for you to be uncomfortable all the time due to Namjoon’s presence. I care about both of you.”

Hoseok’s ears perked up a bit after she uttered the last sentence, sighing deeply as he sank down on the edge of his bed with his head hanging low. 

“He doesn’t seem to deserve that care, at the moment,” Hoseok muttered, Y/N biting her lip as she waited for him to answer her question. “When I was a kid, maybe seven or eight years old, there was a shelter in Berlin I was at for longer than the rest– I think I was there for ten months? I could be wrong, they moved me around so much. Anyways, there was an older kid there too, really a teenager. He was a wolf hybrid, and he made sure to make my life a living hell. Shifting, chasing me around, pretending that he was going to kill me. You know, he broke three of my fingers, slamming them in a door.”

Dropping onto his bed beside him as a gasp left her mouth, Y/N collected Hoseok’s hand again with both of hers and squeezed, the fox hybrid glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes with his mouth pressed into a grim line. 

“Now that I’m older, I recognize that he was just angry with his situation, lashing out at anyone around him. But I’ve never really trusted another wolf hybrid. He’d tell all the other hybrid kids I was a deceitful, conniving fox and that I’d steal their things and throw them under the bus the first chance I’d get. I didn’t have any friends because of it. Worst of all, he ruined one of my first chances to finally get adopted and escape the system by cornering my potential adoptive owners, repeating the rumors that I wasn’t to be trusted, I’m a nasty fox. Of course, they ended up adopting him over me.”

“Oh, Hoseok, honey… I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve any of that, he was a horrible bully, and you were just a little boy,” Y/N whispered, the mental image of a tiny Hoseok, alone and without friends, scared and hurt, breaking her heart to pieces. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re lovely… I’m glad that I was able to adopt you, and have the chance to get to know you. My mom wasn’t lying, foxes have always been my favorite animal,” Y/N nudged Hoseok in the ribs softly, hoping she could cheer him up and possibly get him to smile. She missed his infectious sunny laughter. 

Hoseok’s frame sagged with each word she spoke, his grip on her hand tightening as he peeked at her sideways. She gave him a small smile, somehow hoping that it conveyed just how grateful she was that he actually revealed all of this to her, trusting her enough to talk about a clearly sore subject for him. 

“It’s about time I work through this, anyways. It was a long time ago, and I don’t want anything holding me back anymore. I don’t have to worry about trying to make potential owners like me now, right?” Hoseok spoke after several beats, a hint of his pretty smile making an appearance on his face. 

“That’s right. You’re with me now, Hoseok! Anything you want to do; a place you want to visit, a hobby to try out– we’ll make it happen. I have no intention of letting any of you go, now that you’re here,” Y/N agreed, wondering if she was being a little too sappy. 

She was speaking nothing but the truth, even if things got rough and they didn’t always get along. When she made the adoptions, she never even thought about abandoning them. Unfortunately, far too many hybrids were returned back to shelters at the first sign of ‘bad behavior’, or left out on the streets. With the current state of the world where hunting down hybrids was gaining popularity amongst the uber wealthy, Y/N couldn’t stand the idea that if she hadn’t ended up in that shelter with Ben and Roy, the possibility of Hoseok being gone from the world just like that would have been very real. It made her sick; it triggered an almost primal need to protect each hybrid she had adopted with her life. The words Namjoon had spat at her seemed meaningless, now that she thought about it more seriously. There were so many things she didn’t know about each and every one of them– all of the horrors they had been through. 

“Y/N, come on…” Hoseok groaned playfully, his arm hooking around her shoulders and pulling her into his side. “I don’t want you crying again. Jin and Yoongi will be down here in a heartbeat ready to knock my lights out.”

“Okay, alright. I wasn’t going to cry,” Y/N mumbled, relief finally washing over her as Hoseok chuckled, his bright smile finally making an appearance on his handsome face. “Let’s go get some breakfast, hm? I’m sure Yoongi made something delicious, and it’s a beautiful day. We should spend some of it in the sunshine, No?”

Hoseok nodded with amusement, looking like a significant weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. She’d keep her promise in helping him get over his fear of wolves, knowing that it would help him not only feel more at ease, but would help heal some of his childhood anxieties and fears. He stood, his russet ears finally returning to their natural upwards position once more, motioning her to follow him out into the hall and up the basement stairs. 

Trudging up the stairs behind the fox hybrid, she couldn’t help but think about all of the places Hoseok must have been over the course of his short life. Imagining the constant confusion of being brought from shelter to shelter internationally as a child and teenager was mind boggling enough, not to mention with the added prejudice that fox hybrids seemed to be not so well liked in the hybrid world. 

In the brightness of the foyer, Y/N could smell a sweet-spiced pastry perfuming the air, paired with something else that was more savory and grilled. After sending her an encouraging look, Hoseok headed into the kitchen, Y/N knowing that he had some semblance of an idea that she was preparing herself for a tense situation. She made a pit stop, retrieving her first-aid kit from the broom closet under the stairs, mourning the fact that she seemed to be using it so frequently these days.

Braving herself, Y/N hurried after Hoseok, trying her best to seem composed and confident. The sunny kitchen was full of hybrids, tinkering sounds of silver cutlery against ceramic plates ringing in the air but the lack of conversation hung heavy over the atmosphere. 

Yoongi was over by one of the ovens, pulling out a tray of what appeared to be cinnamon apple rolls, his long hair pulled back with the red scrunchie Y/N gave him the previous day. One of his spotted ears turned to her direction as soon as she entered the kitchen, but his eyes remained on the pastries he was taking out of the oven. Besides him, Jimin and Seokjin were present, sipping coffee from mugs at the island and pushing around some kind of hash on a plate with their forks. 

Hoseok began making himself a cup of coffee by the coffee bar, apparently waiting for Y/N to break the silence upon their arrival. She sought out Seokjin’s gaze, which she met instantly, his eyes immediately softening once they locked eyes. Clearing her throat, she glanced at Jimin, who was also staring at her with a minor sense of pity, which made her straighten up with purpose.

“Morning, guys… did you get enough rest?” She began, making her way to Yoongi’s side as if her feet moved on their own accord, setting the first-aid kit down on the island as nonchalantly as she could. 

“Yeah, I did, at least,” Yoongi promptly responded, using a spatula to scoop a scalding hot pastry onto a plate, offering it to Y/N with a thin grin stretched across his face. It was strange, the way he was behaving as if nothing had happened, Y/N hesitantly accepting the plate, the scent of the pastry far too tempting to pass up. 

Taking much too large of a bite, Y/N migrated over to the side of the island where Jimin was sitting, hearing similar responses from both him and Seokjin. It was hard to stand shooting the breeze while she had no idea where Taehyung, Namjoon, and Jeongguk were, none of the hybrids in the room offering up any sort of insight as to where they’d be. Shoveling down the rest of the pastry Yoongi had given her with haste, Y/N waited for Hoseok to take a seat on a barstool with a plate full of breakfast food before inquiring about the missing hybrids' whereabouts. 

“So, where are they? I think it’s better if I address everything now, rather than later,” Y/N spoke after a few moments of listening to quiet chewing and Yoongi fiddling with the dials on the dishwasher. 

Both Jimin and Seokjin exchanged uneasy looks, Y/N staring at them expectantly when neither of them would cough up any information. Grumbling, Yoongi took her empty plate, Y/N shooting him a pleading look as he locked eyes with her. He melted as soon as his eyes met hers.

“Jeongguk wants to talk to you before you see the other two. He’s upstairs; Namjoon and Taehyung are cleaning up the bedroom they trashed,” Yoongi disclosed, speaking slowly in his gravelly tone as if he was trying to choose his words carefully. 

Blanching, Y/N tried to wrap her brain around how the hell Namjoon and Taehyung had gone from trying to tear each other apart to tidying up together, her body totally locked up as she processed what Yoongi relayed to her. Clutching the granite for support Y/N barked out a strained laugh in disbelief. 

“What? You mean, they’re together right now?” Y/N breathed, her eyes bugging out of her skull as she stared at Yoongi with alarm. He shrugged, placing silverware into the dishwasher like he was detailing a weather forecast to her. 

“They’ve calmed down, Y/N… we’ve managed to deescalate the fight over the course of the night,” Jimin volunteered from beside her, Y/N blinking when she realized he had finally dropped the ‘miss’ title he had been using to address her. “Once you talk to Jeongguk, I think you’ll feel a little bit better about confronting them.”

Nothing seemed to make any sense, judging by the way everyone was behaving so normally considering how disastrous last night had been. Taking in Jimin’s and Seokjin’s perfectly calm expressions, Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, realizing her carefully constructed plan to handle the day was mostly useless. Apparently, many things had been taken care of for her. 

“I don’t– huh? Uh, this is all so weird… have I been sleeping for a week?” Y/N stuttered, mainly speaking to herself as she distractedly headed back to the foyer, hoping Jeongguk could give her less cryptic information. 

“Please, you guys… hang out outside, chill out, whatever you want to do, go ahead. Thank you for all your help last night, too. I’m going to talk to Jeongguk,” Y/N added once met with no response to her hurrying away, calling over her shoulder as she simultaneously sped up the grand staircase, Yoongi’s cinnamon roll spiking her blood sugar enough to give her the zap she needed. 

Her footsteps making loud creaking sounds as she rushed down the hall towards Jeongguk’s room, she was eager for the elk hybrid to fill her in with all she had missed once she passed out in Seokjin’s arms. Not bothering to knock on his door, knowing he could hear both her pounding heartbeat and her clumsy tread, Y/N pushed his door open, immediately spotting him standing out on the little balcony. He still hadn’t changed from his outfit he wore at the cookout, and Y/N doubted he had gotten any sleep. 

“Jeongguk,” Y/N gasped, chest heaving from the effort of scrambling her way to his room, one of his tapered ears flickering in response as he idly smoked leaning over the balcony. 

Trudging over to his side, Y/N got a good look at him, the sleeves of his band tee shirt pushed up over his shoulders as perspiration clung to the skin of his arms, neck, and face like morning dew. It was already insufferably hot outside, Y/N too beginning to sweat as soon as she stepped onto the balcony beside him. 

“I know you wanted to speak to me, but I should thank you first. If you hadn’t broken those two up last night when you did, things would have gotten a lot worse. Thank you,” Y/N hesitantly used three fingers to pat the tattooed hand wrapped around the iron banister of the balcony, his skin hot like a furnace. He took a long drag from his cigarette, eyes distant as he listened. 

“They were being fucking idiots. We all knew something was up with the bear, but he’s no threat to us. I’m sure we’d all be in the same boat, if forced into the same situation as he was,” Jeongguk hoarsely replied, coughing in between every few words. 

“H-hey. Do you need some water? Why don’t you come inside, it’s way too hot out here. I’m afraid you’re going to overheat,” Y/N grew concerned when she saw a bead of sweat track down from his temple to the edge of his sharp jawline, the elk hybrid definitely showing some signs of heat exhaustion. 

Swearing, Jeongguk stubbed out his cigarette, tossing it into a plastic cup on the balcony railing he was using as an ashtray. He surprisingly took her advice, heaving the french doors to the outside shut and sighing a breath of relief once enclosed in his air conditioned bedroom. Lingering awkwardly by the velvet bench in front of his bed, Y/N was unsure of what to say next– hoping he would disclose whatever he needed to without too much prodding.

“So someone downstairs had enough brain cells to tell you they haven’t killed each other yet?” Jeongguk rasped, bracing himself against one of his bed posts close to where Y/N was standing. “I was able to calm the wolf down when I brought him out into the backyard, with the help of the jaguar and coyote. For what it’s worth, as soon as his rage subsided, I could smell enough guilt coming off of him to make me gag.” 

Y/N swallowed thickly, Jeongguk’s revelation not really doing much to make her feel better. While she was still somewhat hurt by Namjoon’s words, his apparent instant remorse didn’t bring her petty satisfaction at all. She was much more concerned with his well-being, recalling that he had blood running down his cheeks after a blow to his brow bone from Taehyung. Further, she was more ticked at the two than anything. 

“I’m surprised he listened to you. I think you two are more alike than you’d care to admit,” Y/N chuckled lightly, a lightness taking over her mood despite the subject matter of the conversation. In her mind, there was no use in dwelling in soured emotions for too long, even if she still had to have a stern talking-to between the two straightening up the scene of the crime downstairs. 

“He didn’t have a– shit, choice, but to listen to me,” Jeongguk insisted, inelegantly landing on his bed as his knees gave out halfway through responding. Growing alert, Y/N realized Jeongguk was more affected by the heat than she originally assessed on the balcony. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes. Motherfucker doesn’t know how to control himself.” 

Rounding the corner of his bed, Y/N squeaked as the elk hybrid dropped down to weakly support himself on his elbows, his complexion turning ashy as he appeared to fight back whatever was making him feel poorly. 

“Judas fucking priest. Not now,” Jeongguk complained loudly, his voice mingling between a pained moan and an exasperated cry, using one of his inked forearms to drape across his slick forehead. Without a thought, Y/N used the back of her hand to check the temperature against the elk hybrid’s clammy cheek, nearly recoiling at the boiling temperature. 

“Jeongguk, are you with me? Christ, I gotta get you a cool cloth, it’s way too goddamn hot outside,  and you’ve had no sleep… it might be a heat stroke,” Y/N panicked, turning on her heel to hightail it to his bathroom for a damp face cloth. 

Before she could get too far, Jeongguk caught her by the elbow, forcibly yanking her back within his proximity with a grunt. From there, while she was lax in shock, Jeongguk managed to manhandle her by tugging on her arms in a way that had her straddling his hips on his bed, her face hovering less than inches away from his. Her heart was slamming against her ribcage, unfocused eyes only registering the shiny jewelry threaded through his eyebrow and lower lip, Y/N got the clearest look of Jeongguk’s handsome face she ever had. The darkness of his pitch-black eyes, sharpness of his nose, the uneven and crooked proportions of his mouth. 

“You know what’s happening. It’s not a fucking heat stroke,” Jeongguk ground out meaningfully, using one hand to powerfully pull her hips down to settle her weight on top of him, the other frantically tugging the thick strap of her tank top down to loosely sit around her bicep. 

“W-wait, Jeonggu-uk,” Y/N wheezed, head spinning. 

She had forgotten that there were still several of the hybrids who had yet to scent her, the elk hybrid included, a distant hypothesis that stressful situations may trigger the need to do so floating around in the back of her head. She’d pick that thought apart later, when she wasn’t straddling Jeongguk, who had a sort of crazed look in his eyes. While he wasn’t a predator hybrid, he certainly seemed that way. 

To her surprise, Jeongguk froze, his fingertips stilling against the bare skin of her shoulder. Hazily gazing into her eyes, Jeongguk swallowed slowly, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. Not expecting his obedience, Y/N felt immediate regret for making him prolong his clear suffering. 

“S-sorry. Go ahead, you just caught me off guard,” Y/N coaxed, detecting a minute amount of vulnerability in the blown-out darkness of his pupils. Maintaining eye contact for a few seconds longer, perhaps trying to give her a chance to pull away, Jeongguk groaned gutterally, eyelids squeezing shut painfully as his fingers dragged her shoulder closer to his face. 

At the feeling of the tip of Jeongguk’s nose teasing the skin of her shoulder, more questions flooded through her, bracing herself by placing both hands on Jeongguk’s quilt by either side of his head. 

“Jeongguk… is it the s-same? As the others? You’re not a predator,” Y/N asked as confidently as she could, never noticing if Jeongguk had the same sharpened incisors as the rest of her hybrids. 

From beneath her, Jeongguk snickered distractedly, Y/N jolting as she felt the smooth coolness of the metal hoop on his lip drag over her heated flesh. 

“It’s the same. Isn’t that what you want, though? I think you like the pain,” Jeongguk uttered against her skin, the words making her stomach flip and heating her body from head to toe. He didn’t know what he was saying, Y/N convinced herself, coming to the conclusion that the hybrids became delirious when they waited too long to scent. 

Unable to help the whimper escaping from her throat, Y/N felt Jeongguk’s lips stretch into a mischievous smile against her shoulder, apparently knowing that he had her right where he wanted her. She hardly had the words at that point to counter his accusation. 

With no further protest, Y/N closed her eyes as she felt Jeongguk trace his incisors along her shoulder. Without being able to see them, Y/N could tell the shape of his teeth were more blunt than the other’s, the sensation tickling her a bit as he searched for the best spot to sink them into. He was moving at a tortuously slow pace, Y/N squirming over his lap impatiently. 

“P-please,” Y/N whined thinly, pressing her shoulder more firmly into Jeongguk’s face. In response, he chuckled humorlessly. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he gruffly responded, his teeth sinking into a fleshy part beside her the ball-and-socket joint of her shoulder, the euphoric pain making her wail in response. 

The pain of his bite was unlike any of the others, due to the site he chose or the shape of his teeth, but either way it had her sagging against his frame while his teeth were still embedded into her skin. The throbbing pain ebbed, Y/N’s head swimming as she let her weight be supported on top of Jeongguk’s muscular frame, her vision cutting out as her brain frantically tried to retain a semblance of consciousness. It was a feeble attempt, Y/N vaguely registering Jeongguk’s teeth withdrawing from her and the tip of his tongue swirling around his mark teasingly. 

Arms turning weak trying to hold herself up, Y/N shifted more of her weight into her hips, pressing them down more firmly on top of Jeongguk’s. A deep grunt tore from his chest, one of his hands that was gripping his quilt shooting up to dig his fingernails into the bare flesh of her thighs, the sting making a groan bubble in her throat. Hearing the noise, Jeongguk chuckled against her shoulder condescendingly, finally using the flat of his tongue to swipe over the bite marks. Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, a foreign, rounded barbell dragging over her skin. Y/N didn’t even realize Jeongguk had his tongue pierced prior to that moment, the sensation of the barbell paired with the wet warmth of his tongue making her body shudder against his. 

Heavily, her head dropped to the junction where his neck met his shoulder, biting down on her lip to prevent any more noises escaping, when she felt the elk hybrid seal his lips around his mark, having the audacity to purse his lips and lightly suck. Even in her loopy head fog, Y/N knew that he was teasing her, definitely sensing how much his ministrations were affecting her. She could smell the saltiness of the sweat still coating his neck from inches away, mingling with his inherently natural muskiness. She felt herself become completely boneless against the elk hybrid, who was apparently satisfied with his work on her shoulder, his mouth finally retreating from her skin and lessening the intensity with which his fingernails were cutting into the fleshy part of her thigh. 

Air whooshing from her lungs, Y/N felt the world spin as Jeongguk flipped her over, her back meeting his plush mattress with a thump as they exchanged positions and he hovered over her, drawing away several inches to analyze her stupefied expression with a lazy smirk. Tongue peaking out to wet his lips, Y/N was transfixed by the flash of the barbell threaded through the appendage. 

“Now that that’s out of the way… where were we?” Jeongguk cocked his head while his onyx eyes roamed around her face and neck, Y/N struggling to entertain a coherent thought. “Oh… the wolf and the bear. There’s a few things you should know, before you go down there to confront them.” 

Able to struggle up onto her elbows, Y/N stared up at Jeongguk through the thick of her lashes eagerly, his muscular thighs flexing and straining against his leather pants as he sat back on his haunches, preparing to ease off of the bed. 

“Okay, enlighten me then.”

Taglist; @blancflms @grazysf @sbromp @jaxavance @sunderlight @ot7nem @mageprincess7 @wittyreader @drenix004 @mayla548 @skyys-universe @ddaeng-angmoh @trtlthts @exfolitae @kalala22 @xiusmarshmallow @bangtans-momma @zae007live @paigetj @singukieee @serendididy @lilacdreams-00 @dreamerwasfound @ninjacups @osakis-gf @itwillbealways-d @xthefuckerysquaredx @momowantscats @molshole @gooooomz @uarmyhore @lopprhe @oopscoop @xicanacorpse @i-like-anime13 @hemziii @demarie04 @im-sinking-in-mud @talkyoongitome

Please do not repost or translate my work. Thank you!

[writersdrug]

Ghost x Reader x Konig: I Don't Need You (Ch. 10)

<- Previous - Next ->

Summary: Thankfully, things have been resolved between you and Konig. You start to settle in more with your team, and Roze shares a few thoughts with you over a smoke. The memories are still there, but just like the winter around you, they're cold and unwelcoming. You and Konig open up to each other a bit more, more than you had ever opened up to anyone.

WARNINGS: implications of masturbation, cursing, angst (if you squint?), plot building, graphic depictions of animal torture and death (PLEASE CONSIDER ALL WARNINGS BEFORE READING THIS, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR THE MEDIA YOU CONSUME thank you kindly)

Notes: Yes! Hello! I exist!! I've been in a slump, and I really do apologize for that. Many of you have been very patient with me and I love and appreciate you all for it! I had to intake as much CoD literature as I could in the past few weeks to get me motivated, which helped a LOT (not to mention I discovered no fewer than ten works that currently have a hold on my heart). But it's here! I forced myself to write over half of the following chapter so that it would be less daunting to finish up. I also plan to make a wip post for yall, just to share will everyone what goes on in my rat brain.

This was edited at 3 am (god it's 4 am now, i just saw that), so if there are any grammatical or spelling errors you have my full consent to call me out on it! Please enjoy!

(sidenote, I completely didn't research how old you need to be to become a navy SEAL, so reader's age is a bit inaccurate in regards to that. pls ignore lol)

(last sidenote then you can read, does anyone have tips for customizing the layout of their fics? I see so many cool ways to style the font and cute banners and errything but I have no idea how nor what to do)

- - - -

The sky hung low with a blanket of gray. It looked like it was about to snow, although the threat was soon dismissed when noon came around and there wasn’t a single flake. The air was cold and dry, forcing me to zip my jacket up all the way and tuck my nose into the collar. I blew steady, warm breaths into my jacket and tried to soak up the heat into my bones.

It was as if the incident had never happened.

Konig and I ended up driving to the liquor store, which was a blessing, since I had run out of Yeungling (and I didn’t understand enough Turkish to converse with the clerk, nor did I have any of the appropriate money – Konig was graced with both of those necessities). We talked like there had never been a week and a half of silence between us. He talked about how he had nearly forced Ridgeback to drag me out of my room and into the common area, “… but it would have been too early for that.” He commented. That, and I would have rather died.

So life went on as normal: dreary, aside from shooting people and getting shot at. Nonetheless, it was normal, and there was a peace to be found in that.

I leaned against the building to the training room, with Roze to my left. I had intended to come out and soak up whatever natural light I could – when I saw her standing there, possibly trying to do the same, I felt the instinct to play it off as if I was just leaving the building. But she cocked her head in a greeting, and a part of me took an interest in her worry-free aura. Out of everyone, she always seemed to be the least-stressed person in the room, even in the middle of a warzone. It was the balm to my anxious mind that I never knew I needed, but gratefully stood by.

We remained together in a comfortable silence (one I would most definitely would not have been comfortable with a while ago), staring ahead, watching the indecisiveness of the brooding clouds above. I wondered what the rest of the world was doing – if they might have been as calm and carefree as us, or if they were in some kind of peril, and the horrors of it were blocked out by the clouds.

I was drawn back to the present when I heard the click click click of Roze’s lighter. I turned my head and watched as she shielded the weak flame from the wind, lighting the cigarette that hung loosely from her lips.

“You smoke?” I asked.

“Sure do.” She replied nonchalantly. “Want one?” she extended her pack of cigarettes towards me.

I glanced at the box, feeling a sour taste in my mouth.

I lay on my stomach, my muscles still twitching and shaking as I tried to even out my breaths. Ghost had tossed a thin blanket over my lower half. I hadn’t even moved from the position he had ruthlessly fucked me in – my body ached too much to even try, and my mind was still recovering from the past hour.

I watch Ghost as he reclined next to me, pushing the bottom of his mask up to place a cigarette between his lips. It was the first time I had seen any part of his face all day. He grabbed his lighter from the pocket of his pants that were discarded on the floor, lighting the end of the cigarette and inhaling. He tossed the lighter back down to the floor as he tilted his head back, exhaling a long stream of smoke. I watched it swirl in the lamplight, settling in a cloud around us. He continued puffing, staring at the wall across from the bed as I lay beside him, although I felt worlds away from him.

He'd started off the night with a mountain of stress from a mission gone sideways. Instead of the usual slow build, where he would run his hands under my shirt and kiss my lips slowly and tenderly – he had walked in and immediately demanded I remove my clothes while he began stripping out of his. I had assumed tonight was going to be a passionate one, until he threw me onto my stomach and shoved my face into the pillows. It wasn’t the first time he’d been rough with me, but it wasn’t just rough – it felt dehumanizing. An hour of constant, merciless thrusts, and a hand around my neck that restricted both my blood flow and my oxygen, and I had fallen into a state of shock.

But, in the end, I was happy to be caged in by him again.

I was happy.

He turned his eyes towards me, seeming to sense that something was off. He exhaled another puff of smoke. “Everythin’ alright?” he asked, completely void of any genuine concern.

I met his eyes with my own. I felt like I shouldn’t have to answer the question, and it stirred up a bitterness in me. But I didn’t feel like arguing with him, and I certainly didn’t want him to leave – so I nodded my head, slowly blinking my eyes. “Just tired.”

He hummed and faced the wall again. He brought one of his knees up and rested his arm against it. “Want a smoke?” he asked, still looking away.

I shook my head as much as the pillow beneath me would allow. “No.” I replied.

He sighed disappointedly. Apparently, my lack of enthusiasm after being used like an old fucktoy was irking him.

To be fair, I never spoke up about how I felt.

He grunted and rose from his position, snuffing out his cigarette in the ashtray by my bed, and picking up his clothes and pulling them on. My heart ached slightly as I watched him slide his shirt over his torso. I felt the threat of tears sting in my eyes as I wished his hands were holding me instead, keeping me warm and grounded. He pulled his jeans on and fastened them, buckling his belt rather quickly; and all while he faced away from me.

“Well, I know you probably need some alone time.” He muttered, sliding the skull attachment over his mask. “So I’ll get going. I’ll see you around.”

He grabbed his tactical vest and jacket and slung them over his shoulder. He paused by the door. “Thanks for tonight.” He mumbled, before finally leaving the room and softly closing the door behind him.

My eyes lingered on the ashtray with the half-smoked cigarette. A thin trail of smoke plumed into the air – I wanted to throw the tray across the room and shatter it. But it was Ghost’s, so I couldn’t; I couldn’t regardless, because it was a piece of him that remained with me, even when he left.

That, and the smell of smoke.

“Nah, I’m good.” I replied, facing the cold, empty base ahead of me.

“Good.” She said, pinching the cigarette and blowing a stream of smoke. “Stay that way. Did you know these bastards give you cancer?”

I chuckled into the collar of my jacket. “Do they, now?”

She hummed affirmatively, sucking another breath in through the cancerous bastard. “Who would’ve thought…”

We fell back into silence. I continued watching the stillness of the base, trying to see if the sky would follow through with its promise to fall. Now that my free time wasn’t spent holed up in my room, it somehow felt like there were fewer ways to spend it. With another mission on the horizon – a simple recon, yet dauntingly close to a heavily-guarded compound – no one was out and about when they usually were. Finding Roze outside and seemingly not worried was usual, however, and a warm sight, compared to how the rest of the team was on edge. Even Askel seemed grumpier than most days.

I hadn’t been seeking out someone to spend time with, no… that I would never do (or admit). But talking to a familiar face provided a comfort I had grown to need over the past couple of months. And, frankly, I felt like Konig might be getting tired of how much I ran to him when I craved social interaction. Though he had never said anything about it, I felt like I needed to branch out to other team members than just my Colonel. One might think I was trying to kiss his ass (I knew the accusation had already crossed Juno’s mind, but the young soldier was good at holding his tongue – when Konig was around, at least).

“You ever think about how ‘little girl’ you would react to this?” Roze asked, and I turned to face her. She had her nose scrunched, and a tinge of pink dusted over her cold cheeks. “Guns, war, no playdates or days at the beach…”

I sighed. “Probably would have cried.” I replied, allowing my freezing nose to poke over the collar of my jacket. “Especially if I had known that being a princess now adays meant spending more time worrying about becoming a hostage than anything else.”

Roze chuckled. “It’s a good thing we didn’t know then.” Her face was mostly blank, but I thought I noticed a hint of bitterness in the way her gaze landed on the ground. I watched her flick her cigarette with a bit more aggression than usual. “I would’ve tried to convince my entire family to run away to Scotland, live in hiding and pretend the rest of the world was a dream.”

“Scotland?” I asked. Soap’s cocky grin and heavy Scottish accent stirred in my mind, but it felt like nothing more than a small cloud of dust.

“Yeah – heard it’s fucking gorgeous over there.” She waved her cigarette in no particular direction. “Now, I don’t know how peaceful it is in terms of politics and war, but it’s pretty spacious. Simple, too. I feel like if I talked about throwing all my shit away and becoming a fisherman for a living, I wouldn’t get people trying to talk me out of it like I would in the States.” She took another drag, and laughed out the smoke.

“Fisherman?”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, a hardened smile gracing her lips. “I don’t know why it sounds so appealing… it just does.”

I hummed and looked back out at the compound. I wondered about Roze’s past; she had never said or done anything to indicate that it was particularly rough, as it was for the majority of us (us – I still wasn’t used to including myself, but it was becoming more of a habit each time), but the weariness in her eyes when she spoke about her younger self made me question what that girl had been through. Maybe it was just nostalgia. A yen for simpler times. Roze seemed to appreciate the simple things in life.

“You know Askel goes ice fishing?” she said suddenly.

I smiled underneath my jacket. “Seems like something he would do.”

“Every winter.” She continued. She dropped her cigarette to the floor and crushed it into the gravel. “He takes about three weeks of leave, if we’re lucky enough to get it, and goes to Norway. Sits on a frozen lake for hours a day, just waiting for a fish.”

“You make it sound like he’s never caught one.” I point out, my eyes lingering on the cigarette.

She shrugged her shoulders. “So does he. Every time I ask him what he caught, he just laughs. Says he’s never expects to get a bite.”

I closed my eyes and hummed in response. It was easy to picture the scene – Askel, sitting on a thick layer of ice, nursing the hoppy beers that he and Konig loved so much and waiting for a fish to bite. I wondered if he even bothered to reel the line in when he did catch something. Or if he even went fishing at all. Maybe he just went out there to get a sense of peace, to pretend that war and death didn’t exist.

The motion of thick, heavy snowflakes falling from the sky caught my attention. They landed on the skin of my nose, resisting the warmth for a few moments, before they eventually melted into trickles of water. A sudden gust of wind blew a flurry of them towards us, making the both of us flinch.

Maybe fishing doesn’t sound too bad.

- - - -

The shooting range was mostly silent, save for the occasional conversation between me and Konig. The lights were low, easily illuminating the gunpowder and dust swirling in the air. Konig and I stared at the paper target as we analyzed my shots. A few hit dead center, although most of them were clustered around the lower left of the bullseye. My lips were pursed into a scowl as I glared at my sub-par aim – it wasn’t typically so awful, but of course it was while Konig had been watching.

“Eh, are you sure you didn’t lie on your paperwork about being a sniper?” Konig asked as he stood behind my left shoulder, taking the target from my hands and looking at it closely. “You weren’t even ten yards from it. This is very poor marksmanship.”

I scowled in embarrassment, taking my pistol to the counter and pulling out the mag. “Rough day.” I answered bluntly as I started packing more bullets into the small compartment. It wasn’t a lie – I had barely gotten any sleep the night before. I was in the middle of a rather interesting dream involving me and Ghost, until my alarm woke me up before anything of importance happened.

“Very bad…” he mumbled to himself. I clicked my tongue in annoyance.

“Y’know…” I grumbled, loading the mag back into the gun and shoving it in my holster, “I don’t like stereotyping, but the boot really does fit you.” I walked past him and out into the hallway, not waiting for him to follow.

“Hmm?” he made an indignant noise, momentarily stuck in his spot, before he came jogging after me. “What does that mean? What stereotype?”

I chuckled. “Haven’t you ever how Germans are extremely blunt?” I asked.

“Austrian.” He retorted. “Do I need to brand that onto my face for you?”

“Wouldn’t do me much good, with the mask ‘n all.” I replied.

He laughed – rather snorted, as usual – “Ah, you’re right. Maybe I am blunt – just as much as you are defensive.”

I stopped at the end of the hall, right in front of the exit. “Defe-“ I turned on my heel to scowl at him. “I am not defensive! Where did you get that idea?!”

He stopped behind me, his eyes widening. He gestured an open palm in my direction. “This.”

I huffed, turning back around to punch the door open. The snow from earlier that day had ceased, blanketing the base in a thin layer of white. The moon seemed that much brighter against the crystalized ground, and the yellow lights scattered across the compound made parts of the snow look like sandy dunes. My nose tingled from the nip of the chilly air, and I pulled my jacket tighter around my body as the door fell shut behind me and Konig.

“Well, what am I supposed to say when you call me defensive?”

“You could agree.”

“But I don’t.”

“Which proves my point.”

I huffed in frustration, despite the smirk curling on the edges of my lips. “So, either I have to agree with you, whether I really do or don’t, or you’ve corralled me into a paradox.”

I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “A what?”

“A paradox, like a – y’know, never mind. It’s too difficult to explain.” I let him fall in step next to me, although he was the one who needed to slow down to match my pace. “We can just agree to disagree, how’s that?”

“Agreed.” He nodded, and I chuckled. “It won’t change the fact that I’m right, you know.” He added.

I bit my lip and tried to keep my smile from growing ridiculously larger. I looked up at him and patted his shoulder – he looked down at me, and the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back. A stray, reddish-brown curl poked through the side of his balaclava, and I found the miniscule detail warming my heart through the cold air. He felt real, and in this moment, too human for this kind of life.

“Why did you choose the military?” I asked, turning back to look at the ground as we walked.

He hummed. “Isn’t that every boy’s dream?”

“Well, yes – but most of the time, it never becomes more than that.” I responded.

He shoved his hands into his pockets, mimicking my own position. “I’m not really sure what made me push so much for it. I almost didn’t make it, for obvious reasons.”

I chuckled. “Size does matter, huh?”

He looked down at me with a deadpan gaze, one that I refused to meet. “It almost did, in a bad way. And I almost backed out before they could be the ones to turn me away. But, of course, they knew they would find some use for my size – so they took me in.”

“And what did they do with you?” I asked, looking back at him.

“A ‘human battering ram,’ as my superiors had so nicely called it.” He framed the description with his hands in the air, as if it had been written on a plaque. I laughed and looked back down at my feet.

“Seriously?” I asked. “So they just had you breaking down doors, and then what?”

Konig laughed with me. “Well, I still had a gun, so I was able to shoot, thank goodness. And I had a bit more gear so I wouldn’t break my bones against the doors – I still dislocated my shoulder a few times, however…” he rolled his left shoulder, as if there was still a lingering pain from how often he had thrown himself at doors. “It was actually during a period of recovery when I proved that I could still be a sniper. My shoulder was still healing, so I had to give up being a battering ram for a while. I was sat with Horangi on the side of the mountain to give him cover. Of course, he was ambushed – he had to fight the Arschgiege right when we were given the order to shoot, so I had to take position behind the gun.” I noticed that his chest was puffed out a bit from pride. “That really knocked their pants off.”

I chuckled, choosing to ignore the inaccuracy of his phrase. “Did it now?”

“It did.” He replied, then looked at the ground. “For a moment. I got a good earful for overstepping boundaries that day, but it’s what ultimately landed me here – so I’m grateful for it.”

I nodded and hummed. “What was Horangi picked for?”

Konig shrugged, his hands now back in his pockets. “He never said what he and Commander had spoken about in his office. But, even if he wasn’t chosen – I like to think we come as a package. If I go, he goes, if he doesn’t, I don’t.”

I felt my heart warm at his words. The memory of how Juno had described Konig couldn’t be farther from my mind. It almost felt like I was talking to someone I briefly crossed paths with in my youth – not a war criminal, not the bloody and stiff soldier who had stepped onto the heli after our first mission. I envied his ability to separate his work stress from the time he had in between missions.

“Why did you decide to join?” He asked, catching me off guard.

It was only fair that I opened up to him, since he was so willing to do the same. Always the one to go first, too. But I had to be careful. I didn’t want this to turn into a pity party, and I didn’t want to dig anything up that I had worked so hard to bury deep beneath my subconscious.

“I was… a weird kid. Like you.” I said, making Konig scoff and roll his eyes. “Looking back now, I hate my younger self. I was so sensitive to what people thought about me, and I just wanted to be independent and strong. I wanted to be a ‘different girl.’” I gritted out the words that left a sour taste in my mouth. “I think I just wanted attention at first – of course, when I heard how everyone said they hated how annoying teenage girls were, and how gullible and weak they were, it just – it made me change. I wanted to prove everyone wrong, it wasn’t just about being different anymore. So, as soon as I turned old enough, I enlisted. Didn’t get to Navy SEAL right away, of course… but I joined every program I was allowed in until I could submit my application.”

I sighed, then chuckled. “Thought my family would say they were proud, that I was successful, that I was doing a good job… they were just angry. Said I was throwing my life away for business that didn’t involve our country.” I opened my mouth to say more, but I ended up scoffing and closing it once again. I felt like I had shared enough.

I looked at Konig, expecting him to acknowledge what I said. “That’s how the story goes…” he would say. But, when I met his gaze, I only saw concern. His brow was creased with what I imagined was pity, and my stomach churned. It was the exact opposite of the reaction I had hoped for. I only wanted to share stories with him, and now it was… this.

“I think you made the right choices.” He said, and I looked away.

“You don’t need to make me feel better, Konig. I appreciate it, but-“

“I’m not just trying to make you feel better.” He said, his accent slightly thicker from his exasperation. “You’re good at what you do. Your parents are just probably worried for you, and they don’t know how to show it.”

I bit down on my tongue, my eyes settling on the building in front of us with a hard expression. If only.

“Maybe that’s it.” I muttered, hoping he would drop the subject. He seemed to understand, and turned to look ahead with a disappointed sigh. My heart sank the tiniest bit at the sound, and I internally scolded myself. Still a people-pleaser, apparently.

We continued walking in silence, the buzz of the lights above us mimicking the static of a communication system that had been severed in a time where it was needed most. The edge of the barracks appeared into our view, just around the corner of the arsenal sheds that stood between us and our destination. I continued to stare at the ground, pretending to watch my steps and try to not slip on the snowy asphalt. My heart twisted with each second of silence that sat thickly between us. It wasn’t technically a fight, but somehow, it felt worse. It felt like the first time I had pissed him off, the first time we had spoken to each other – and god, did I already hate myself for the way I had acted towards him during those first few weeks. I didn’t want to drive another wedge between us, not after the ones that had already been worked back out.

I exhaled heavily through my nose. “Sorry.” I mumbled quietly, but loud enough that I knew it reached his ears. “Sensitive topics.”

He flitted his eyes in my direction, but didn’t bother to move his head. He sighed, and I nearly jolted when I felt his wide hand on my upper back. It rubbed back and forth, and it took me an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was comforting me. Or, trying to, at least.

“I know.” He said, and his hand rested on my shoulder. “I’m sorry for pushing you.”

I didn’t know how to respond. I was stuck on the feeling of the roughness of his palm, which I could gleam through the fabric of my jacket. How his fingers squeezed gently and released twice. There was no hidden meaning, no forced contact or any kind of attempt to put context into the touch. It was… natural. Warm, comforting, and it spoke a thousand words that I wouldn’t have been able to stomach if he had said them. It broke past my self-hatred and walls of ‘don’t be weak’ that I would have used as my defense if he had tried to verbally convey any sort of consolation. It was the first time I didn’t feel awkward about being so close to him, let alone when he was touching me. I wondered if he did this on purpose, or if he had no idea what he was doing at all.

I let myself stand nearer to him, almost tucked under his arm. I looked up and smiled as genuinely as I could – not that it was hard for me, but because I wanted to make sure that he really knew how much I appreciated the gesture. Although, if he knew that this simple act of comfort would pierce through my outer shell, was it really necessary?

“Thank you, Konig.” I said.

He looked down at me and smiled. That damn smile. I wondered how much more refreshing it would be when he wasn’t wearing his mask. It was already too much for my soul to bear when it was just the crinkling in his eyes that I could see.

“Anytime, Bonnie.” He replied, patting my shoulder before tucking his hand back into his pocket. I grieved minimally at the loss of the touch, but I was happy for what it was. “And I mean it. Anytime you need to talk – or not talk, and do that empty staring that you do – just come find me.”

I quirked an eyebrow in his direction. “Anytime?” I asked amusedly.

“Mhm!” Konig replied, his eyes on the ground as he watched his steps. Then, the realization hit him, and his eyes went wide with panic. “Oh- well, eh- I guess, not anytime-“

“You gonna tell me when?” I joked, and he laughed. “You need an open/closed sign on your door.” I jogged ahead, trying to reach the door to the barracks before he did.

“How about this?” he called out, and I could hear the grin behind his mask. “I’ll nail a chalkboard to my door, and if I’m busy, I’ll draw a stick guy jerking off in his bed!”

My cheeks burned after I heard him. “No!” I shrieked, laughing nervously. “You’ll traumatize Juno!” I quickly tried to pin this on someone other than me.

“Juno, hah?” Konig teased, and I had half a mind to run into the building and leave him on the quad. “I don’t care about him. Kid needs to be traumatized.”

I laughed and threw my head back, turning the corner around the arsenal shed. “That’s not very-“

Immediately, my heart leapt into my throat, and I gasped. Konig nearly ran into my back as he skidded to a halt.

Sick, sick, what the fuck, I feel sick-

“Stimmt etwas nicht?” he asked, concerned. “What- oh, scheisse-“

We both stared at the bird on the ground. A crow from the looks of it, though it was hard to even decipher that it was a bird in the first place, due to the state it was in. Its belly had been cut open, entrails and bloody bits pulled from the abdomen and strewn to either side of the bird. Its wings were stretched to their full capacity and most likely beyond it, crushed and missing a large number of feathers. Both of the legs appeared to have been ripped off and tossed to the left of the crow. Its beak was the worst of it all: pried open, the jaw probably broken from how wide it was spread. A haunting look of terror in the crow’s red, glossy eyes made a violent shiver run up my spine.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes still glued to the horror. “Holy shit – what the-“

Konig quickly walked around me and knelt in front of the crow. I shifted to look over his shoulder, still fearfully curious, but he held a hand out behind him, urging me to stay in place. With his other hand, he pulled at one of the bird’s wings, stiff and heavy. Whether it was frozen from the cold, or this was the effects from rigor mortis, I couldn’t tell.

“How – did a fucking fox do that?!” I asked. Are there even foxes in this area? How the hell did one get on base?

“Nein.” Konig replied, still looking at the corpse. His gaze fell upon it with a sense of… familiarity, maybe? “Not a fox, no.”

“Then what? It – whatever it was didn’t even eat-“

“I’ll take care of this.” Was all Konig said. He stood up and marched past me – I was barely able to catch a glimpse of his furious expression. His eyes were hard and narrow, and as he walked away, I noticed that his shoulders were tense and his hands were balled into fists. I didn’t dare say anything to him; he almost looked the same way he did after our first mission together, except this time, his anger seemed to be directed at something, instead of just a post-mission adrenaline high.

“I’ll see you later.” He said over his shoulder. There was an obvious fury to his words, and although I knew it wasn’t intended towards me, it still made me freeze where I stood – almost as if I might anger him more simply by taking a step after him.

Whatever it is… I thought, watching him disappear into the compound, he’s sorting it out. I can take care of myself. Although, with such an abrupt and tense departure, I was at a loss on what to do next. I looked back at the bird; its terrified eyes locked onto the sky above it, frozen in its last wish to fly away from whatever horror it endured.

A shiver ran up my spine, prompting me to look away.

- - - -

Taglist: @igotmajordaddyissues @princekonig @vixionix @v3lv3tvampir3 @theoneandonlykymberlee @luvvnightingalee @dillybuggg @sun-joo @perfectus-in-morte @evilive @satakingslime @comfortless

Please let me know if you would like to be added to the taglist!

[flightyalrighty]

[Chapter 1: The Cave - Chapter Song] CH 1 PG 1-4 FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

WARNING: EYE STRAIN UNDER CUT

Hi! Hello! Welcome! This is Infested, a Sonic horror/drama fan comic I've been working on for a few weeks now (you may have seen the conceptual sketches on my blog here). If Sonic characters getting put in very stressful situations isn't your cup of tea, I completely understand! This is most likely not the comic for you, and that's okay! For the record, there WILL be violence and some gore depicted in this comic, so, again, if that's not your thing, definitely don't stick around! There are lots of great Sonic fan comics out there that don't do this kinda thing!

So what exactly is this?

Well, it started as a silly little rp I did with a Shadow The Hedgehog chatbot over at Character.AI by the user Mistliz. And then it became a lot less silly and a lot more "Oh wait, shit, this is like, a story."

So, the story is controlled by me. Every single character is controlled by me. Except Shadow. Shadow is (almost) completely AI-written in this story. I say "almost" because the entirety of Chapter 1, including his dialogue, has been re-written to tie it in better with the rest of the story. So until we get to a certain point, this is a normal comic.

EDIT: Just kidding! It's all written by me! I don't think any of the AI's dialogue was worth salvaging, so ALL of it is mine!

Since this is kinda my very first few pages, I did stick them together, but this won't be the norm. Do expect one page uploaded per... At the moment, whenever I can finish them (I'm about to get VERY busy).

That being said, I hope you folks out there enjoy this. See ya next time!

[kedreeva]

Hello, I've been following you since Good Omens~ I'm currently writing a fic, and it is growing bigger than I expected. So much so that I'm kind of at a lost on how to outline/draft it. If you have any tips you don't mind sharing on how to better plot a story, I would really appreciate it. :)

I can tell you what I do! It requires a little background.

Back in HS, I had a class about writing essays. Basically, it goes like this- you write on a page "intro, 1, 1, 1, 1, 1, conclusion." Then you go back, and after each #1 (or as many as you want), you fill in a major argument/point you're making on your topic, and then under each #1, you write 2, 2, 2, 2, or however many you want. The trick is that each #2 must relate to what was said in its matching #1. If needed, you can add #3s under any #2 that needs it, again each #3 must relate to what was said in #2. It's mostly fill-in-the blank writing from there, and then you go back and fill in the intro/conclusion to match what you wrote.

ANYWAY story PLOTTING is kind of the same thing, to me, except instead of the intro/conclusion being the last thing I do, they're the anchors of the rest. I look at where I want the characters to be at the start, and where I want them to be at the end, and then I look at what needs to happen in the middle to get from point A to point B. I write down what major events need to happen (like #1s), and then under those, which building events need to lead up to them (like adding #2s), and if any minor events/character developments need to happen to get to the building events (like #3s).

Once i know what needs to happen, I block out any chapters, particularly if I know I need to get certain chapters to end on certain notes, and once i know what the chapter frames look like, I do a quick "first draft" kind of sketchy write up (as if I'm quickly summarizing for/telling a friend what happened) of a scene-by-scene. That way I know what to expect going into a chapter, and I know what to expect for the overall.

Importantly, if I don't really know what happens, I leave that room in the outline. USUALLY it becomes apparent what needs to happen, as I go through writing, because stuff happens (in the story) while I'm writing that makes it clearer. if not, then I write it wrong and see why it's wrong, and that sometimes makes something clearer. If THAT doesn't work, then I go to friends or strangers and ask for help. There's a lot of people out there happy to rubber duck with you, or to be beta readers, you just have to be very clear about what you actually need from them (for example, if you want storybuilding advice you can tell them to avoid picking at grammar or spelling, especially since whatever it is may change as you edit or rewrite).

Also importantly, it's okay to change your mind AND it's okay to edit previous chapters as needed while you are writing. EVEN if they are already posted to AO3. Anyone reading a WIP is likely to understand that the story is under construction and sometimes that means stuff changes. Sometimes, when you're writing along, you find out if you make a change to something in the past, it rewires a bunch of stuff down the line, or at least opens a door for you to get where you wanna go with the plot.

And sometimes... sometimes you just need to take a break. Sometimes you're trying to pour from an empty cup.

Good luck with it!

[thetravelingmaster]

Reasons Why you Should Check Out ROM

(readonlymind.com)

I've done a similar posts before for this site when I first joined up ROM as an author, but I feel like it deserves a little boost and some visibility out here as one of the many sites where one can enjoy erotic mind control literature. And also, because I'm a little selfish! I figure that if more people know about it, there's going to be more erotic stories to read.

Back when I joined, thanks to @arihi 's post on the matter during the 2018 tumblrapocalypse, I believe that there were barely 150 authors that published on the site, but as of today, that number has risen to 446. The list keeps growing and so does the variety of stories available.

Much like mcstories.com, the site is very easy to navigate and search through, even if you aren't 'logged in' as an author or reader. It offers us simple ways to search out and find the stories or authors we most want to read about. They've done an awesome job with the tag system so that regardless of which story you are reading, you can click on a tag to see what other stories that have the same theme.

It's a lot like a porn site actually, but for mind control themes.

And speaking of the tags...

The search function is rather advanced. Not only can you click a specific tag to see which stories have them, but you can also use the 'advanced search' to combine them and refine your search. You can add as many as you want to really find out if a specific theme is available. In fact you can also exclude tags to make sure you only get the stories you truly want.

Of course, when you do find a story you like, the author name will be a link to their page, which will list their stories as well as an introduction about themselves if they chose to add one. Since the site is all about open discussion, they accept self promotion so you can expect to find contact information on authors you like or even a link to other sites they post on.

Another very useful thing you'll find on their page, which I haven't seen on any other MC site before, is the 'story suggestion' link. There, you'll find all the stories the author recommends.

I've found that it's a great way to discover other authors because if you enjoy someone's writing, there's also a good chance you'll enjoy reading the stories they've enjoyed and recommended. Plus, if the author is so inclined, they can do more than just list off a bunch of stories, but also add a comment as to why they enjoyed it. I personally try to always add a little something to entice those that end up on my list.

Another feature I truly enjoy as an author is the fact that you can always go back an edit your stories because you always have full control of what is posted. Honestly, if I had discovered this before I opened up my own website, there would have been no need for me to do it. Although, I might have been a little disappointed about the fact I couldn't add the lovely images that inspire me so much... hehehe

But regardless, as an author that has many stories with many chapters, I've quickly discovered how easy it is to organize my stories because I can add a new chapter to an existing story, which is great because the reader doesn't have to look for previous chapters. Plus, you can add titles and even small descriptions to each, which will show up in the story index. In addition, you always get a word count for each chapter (or full story in the story list) so you know how long it should take you to get through it.

Speaking of readers, the site offers a little more than just a well organized and searchable site.

Well... If you register that is!

You don't have to post anything though, so registering is simply like creating an account. What you get for registering are a few fun bonuses like the ability to 'snap' a story you liked. Which is basically the equivalent of a 'like' here on tumblr. As an author, it's always a great inspiration to add chapters when I notice that one of my stories becomes popular and I know readers want more. It's also a great indicator for readers, as you well know!

Another bonus you get by registering is being able to comment on each chapter. I love the comments section because it not only gives me the ability to get feedback, but it also allows registered people to tag each other and reply to comments. As an added bonus, once you register, you get access to a notification page and if someone's replied or tagged you, you'll be notified there.

Speaking of notifications...

As an author, I get a bunch of notifications every time a user 'snaps' one of my stories, leaves a comment or recommends it to others. But as a reader, I can also 'follow' specific authors and be notified when ever they publish a new story or add a chapter to an existing one. But hey, that could be bothersome too so you ALSO have the option of just following ONE specific story so you are sure to know when the latest chapter drops. I'll admit, I use this option a lot!

Another option you may notice in the above image is the 'Read Later' option. I've used that as both a place to list off stories I like to read multiple times, as well as the obvious happenstance where I find a good one I want to read, but don't have the time.

As you ALSO may have notice, there are well known authors publishing their stories there too. @scifiscribbler, @jukeboxemcsa, @darthkyra, @ellaenchanting, @hypnoticharlequin and @skaetlett, to name a few you might know from tumblr.

If you can't get enough of reading MC stories, then this site will definitely help to feed your cravings. It's still relatively new and small when compared to others, but so far, it's proven its potential for growth.

The more the merrier

TM

[astupidweeb69]

Unrequited (Yandere! Ticci Toby x Reader) Part 9

Links to Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Author’s Note: I've been rereading this chapter for about a week trying to edit it, but decided I'd just go ahead and post it. Happy holidays everybody!

Cross-posted on my Ao3 account, which I update more frequently.

Warnings: Swearing. Descriptions of Gore. Some threats of violence. (2,070 words)

____________________________________________________________

Leaves crunched underneath heavy boots, ragged and irritated breaths came out in clouds against the cold. 

Toby was not pleased.

Not pleased with how things were going with you.

And not pleased with being texted by Tim.

Apparently there was some work to do and he had to ‘get his lazy ass over there’. The young proxy didn’t even know the details of what needed to be done. A supply run? Some more random campers in the area? Either way Toby was itching for a fight. 

He could feel anger in his system bubbling and ready to boil over. Just imagining Tim’s smug face waiting for him, probably ready to spat some nonsense about how ‘he’s late’ or make a snide comment on his appearance. His face twitched furiously at the idea, and if anyone was unfortunate enough to see the way he walked through the woods now, they’d surely run in the other direction. There was murder in the man’s eyes. 

It wouldn’t take long for Toby to find his teammate. That’s how things always worked though, they had a connection to find each other when they were supposed to, all he needed to do was walk mindlessly in a direction and let the forest guide him.

“Someone’s in a pissy mood.”

The smell of smoke let him know he found who he was looking for. Tim leaned on a tree, a wry smile on his face, a lit cigarette burning away at his fingertips. It was practically an extension of his hand at this point, the fucking chainsmoker. Toby learned to hate the scent of tobacco.

“Where’s Brian?” Toby frowned, ignoring Tim’s comment.

“Had something he needed to do.”

Tim looked disinterested in the conversation. Getting him to actually tell Toby what was going on was like pulling teeth. And Toby knew first hand how hard that could be.

“Suh-so? Why’d you cuh-call me out here?” The younger proxy fidgeted with the ends of his gloves.

Tim sighed, letting the last part of his cigarette drop to the ground, putting it out with his boot. “There’s been some weird things happening out here. Brian said you should come with me to investigate.” 

Toby made note of how he said ‘Hoodie’. Tim’s way of hinting that he didn’t want him there. Typical.

“Wuh-what do you mean weird things?”

Tim motioned with his head for him to follow, walking away into some bushes, Toby raised one of his eyebrows before complying. There was a rancid stench in the air when he started following him, like something died. Not uncommon in the forest, but it was hard to stomach even for the most experienced woodsman. 

They followed the smell of rotting flesh, down a small embankment. The dead leaves on the ground made it hard not to slip and fall, and Toby snickered when Tim lost his footing a couple times, making the older proxy shoot him a dirty look. 

“There up ahead.” After walking a few paces, Tim pointed to a mangled pile of fur splayed out against a group of pine trees. 

Toby’s eyes narrowed at the bloody mess in front of him, turning to the other man in irritation. 

“You dragged me out here for a duh-dead deer?”

“Take a closer look, Rogers.”

Toby shoved past Tim, making a point to bump into his shoulder for using the nickname he hated. He pulled up the mouthguard hanging from his neck to cover his nose, but it didn’t block out the smell nearly as much as he’d hoped. It took a lot of willpower not to gag.

He scanned over the remains noting different sized bite marks and scratches that tore through the animal's belly, viscera pooling out and its black lifeless eyes staring up at the sky. A swarm of maggots had already started the process of decay. 

Toby could see the red of Tim’s flannel out the corner of his eye.

“Well?”

“Okay, it’s a luh-little strange. I’ll give you that. The bite muh-marks look like they came from a  human.”

“Anything else, detective?” Tim mused, clearly noticing something else but liked toying with the kid.

“Just fucking spit it out.”

The older man kneeled down, motioning to two different spots on the deer's hind legs. “They’re all different sizes, meaning more than one person did this.”

“Cuh-cool.” Toby deadpanned. “So what does that mean for us?” 

“It means we need to keep an eye out for groups of ravin’ lunatics.”

“Don’t we already duh-do that?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. This is the second animal we’ve found like this in a week.”

“And yuh-you only thought to tell me now?”

“I was busy.” Tim shrugged, the corner of his lip curling up slightly. The man did not give two shits about warning Toby sooner. Probably didn’t even want to tell him now. If anything, Brian most likely had to convince him to.

The younger proxy scowled at him, tempted to escalate things, to cause another one of their fights ending with the two trying to claw the others' eyes out. Not that it would hurt him, and Toby always got some sick amusement seeing Tim in pain. But it would be dark soon, and he was itching to get back home. The thought of you back there tied up on his bed was making him scratch at his scar. 

He needed to spend more time with you. The look in your eyes as he paced around the cabin…. The look of fear and hatred. It wasn’t unexpected, but it still bugged him. You were… a bit more of a firecracker than he’d hoped. And level-headed unfortunately. You were catching on a little too quickly, to just how…. Temperamental he could be. The memory of you staring at his hatchets came back to him. He needed you to see his softer side, needed you to warm up to him before the truth, the real truth, about what he was came out. Maybe if he stole an old TV and got some of those movies you liked….

“Rogers!”

A finger snapped inches from his face. Toby blinked.

“Wuh-What?” 

“I told you we need to get goin’” Tim pushed Toby forward impatiently. “It’s almost night time. Come on.”

He could hear Tim muttering “Fuckin’ useless kid.” under his breath as he led the way.

Toby’s stomach twisted. That phrase got to him. Was something he’d heard a lot, from somewhere before, something in his past. Something familiar. Tim taunted him in ways that sparked a deep resentment, like an itch he could never fully scratch. A scab that wouldn’t heal.

They walked back the way they came in, up the hill and through the thick bushes, without saying a word. One thing they could agree on was the less they talked, the better.

Luckily Toby’s cabin wasn’t too far. Fiddling with the ends of his jacket, combing his hair, absentmindedly, he was glad to be rid of the old fucker finally and get back to what was important.

But things never worked out the way he wanted.

Toby felt a hand on his arm. Tim lit up another cigarette, his eyes narrowed at Toby, before taking a long, deep, drag into his lungs. .

Smoke billowed from the man’s mouth, surrounding him in a thick cloud as he spoke.

“Before you go, I need somethin’ from your cabin.”

Fuck.

Toby stared at him for a moment. His mind went blank, before finally speaking up.

“Wuh-what do you need?” 

He’d just act normal. It wouldn’t be a big deal. He could figure something out.

“Hoods and I are running low on some supplies. We know Kate keeps some of her stuff in your basement. Figured we’d borrow some things.” 

The boy twitched and fidgeted under the pressure, trying to come up with ways to get out of it. If Tim saw you… Toby didn’t even want to think about what he’d do. He honestly didn’t know.

“What… kuh-kind of things-sss?” Shit. His stutter was getting worse.

Tim raised a brow. Likely annoyed by how standoffish the other proxy was being at something simple.

“Like food n’ ammo. We’ve been too busy to go into town.” Tim paused, and looked almost accusingly at him. “And I know you’ve been leaving the forest a lot recently.”

Toby chewed on the side of his cheek. Of course the other proxies sensed his disappearance. He’d been too preoccupied with you to even think about that being a possibility. That didn’t mean they cared when he was gone, they weren’t his babysitter. But now Tim had him over a barrel. There was no way he could deny him supplies now, without admitting the reason he went into town was for… something out of the ordinary.

“Fuh-fine.” He sighed, trying to collect his thoughts. “Just duh-don’t touch any of my stuff.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

______________________________________________________________

The cabin was just up ahead. Toby kept glancing back at Tim who seemed too preoccupied in his own thoughts to notice.

“Whuh-wait outside for a second. There’s suh-something I need to take care of first.” 

Tim eyed him carefully. They both stood on the porch, tension rising, Tim’s body stiffening and his hands balling into fists for a brief moment. Toby fully expecting him to lash out. 

Tim always thought the boy was weird. Fucked up in the head. Overly-emotional, unstable, obnoxious, and he’s seen the worst of Toby’s manic episodes. He was almost certain the kid engaged in some light cannibalism, from the way he mumbled to himself in his delusional states. He was so fucking glad they didn’t live under the same roof anymore.

Finally, after a few moments of staring the other down, Tim relaxed. “Whatever, just don’t take too long.”  The older man decided he’d do whatever it took to get the fuck outta there, even if that meant having to obey. Despite how much that bruised his ego, he just wanted to go home and sleep.

Toby quickly went inside, slamming the door behind him, and Tim sat on the steps of the porch with a reluctant grunt.

Twitching anxiously, he ran into the room where you were tied to the bed. You jumped, obviously startled, by the door aggressively being opened. Normally he’d mock you, wanting to give a fake ‘awwww’ at how freaked out you were by his presence. He was still mad about how you've been treating him. But he didn’t have the time for that right now.

He opened the drawer to his nightstand, getting out an old t-shirt.

“Wha-” You started to question, but he cut you off by shoving the cloth in your mouth painfully. He tied it around your head, a little too tight, but he needed to make sure you were properly gagged and wouldn’t be heard.

Toby leaned down to your ear, speaking in a low hiss. “You nuh-need to be fucking quiet. I have a guest. He’s dangerous, so don’t get any ideas. No one’s coming to save you.”

He gripped your jawline tightly. “Do you uh-understand?” You stared back at him. Toby narrowed his eyes, tightening his hold on your face even more, until you finally nodded your head.

He released his hand and exited the room, mentally preparing himself to interact with Tim again, and with a deep breath, opened the front door.

“Okay, you can cuh-come in now.”

Tim groaned as he got up to follow him inside. 

Toby couldn’t help letting his eyes dart to his bedroom door when they walked past. He led Tim down the hall where the basement stairs were, which he started keeping locked the day he captured you. He didn’t need you to see what was down there. Hopefully not ever.

After Toby unlocked the door and showed him the various backpacks stolen from victims, Tim rummaged through a couple before collecting the items he needed. Mostly food, a couple old boxes of ammo. Nothing special.

His heart was pounding when they climbed the stairs again, so close to getting this over with. Wanting nothing more than to have him out of the house. Away from you.

But without warning, Tim stopped in the hallway, 

It was so sudden Toby almost bumped into his back.

“Whuh-what is it?”

There was a dangerously long pause, before Tim’s head turned to look behind his shoulder. Toby's eyes widened in fear.

“Did you hear that?”

[j-eryewrites]

Kin

Part Six of A Sinner's Redemption

SERIES MASTER LIST| MAIN MASTER LIST

Previous | Next

Word Count: 16.8k

Author's Note: (EDIT) Dang, it's been forever since I've had the chance to write in general. I want to say thank you for all your patience with me. My health has been horrible, and school and work have been crazy, leaving me little time to do the things I enjoy. I really hope you enjoy this chapter!

Anyway, I'll stop talking and let you read on.

Warnings: Language, mentions of death, angst and all the feels (I MEAN A LOT OF ANGST), blood, violence, and gore (let me know if I missed anything)

꧁_____________꧂ 

Three Months Later...

One thing Ellie hated the most was when she was under-estimated. She was sure Piper felt the same way when Joel became all high and mighty,, wanting to face the "bad guys" by himself rather than having the two of them help out. Ellie knew she could hold her own. For Piper, there was no doubt, but after what happened in Kansas City, it seemed like Joel had changed. Now, whether it was for good or bad, Ellie was unsure, but right now, it was leaning more towards bad.

The woman was completely harmless. In fact, Ellie had been puzzled as to how this woman had survived this long. Even so, Joel pushed the girls behind him; gun raised as he told the woman what was going to happen. Afterwards, forced the girls upstairs to hide while they waited for the woman's husband to come home. Ellie grumbled at that. If the husband was anything like the woman, Florence as she introduced herself, then Ellie could take both of them down in under a minute.

Ellie groaned as her head banged against the bedpost. "How long is this gonna take?" she muttered under her breath. Her eyes peered over at her sister, wondering if she had heard Ellie's words. Instead, Piper seemed to be in her own world. She was leaning up against the wall. Her gun was in her lap and her hands grasped the sides of her forehead. Ellie's eyes squinted, unsure if her sister was in deep thought or pain.

"How long is this gonna take?" Ellie repeated, her head dropping to the side to emphasize her distaste for the situation.

Piper winced as she opened her eyes. "I heard you for the first time, El."

"Yeah, but you didn't respond., so I had to make sure you were still alive," Ellie smirked.

Piper rolled her eyes. "Jesus, you're giving me a headache."

Ellie opened her mouth to respond, but Joel's thunderous voice from downstairs cut her off: "Thought I told you two to be quiet."

"Yeah, Ellie. Be quiet," Piper smirked.

"You motherfu-" Ellie spat back.

"Hey!" Joel reprimanded. Florence began giggling to herself in the armchair she sat in. At the sound of her laughter, the girls grew quiet.

Suddenly, Florence's laughter died down. "He's home."

Ellie sat up straighter and nudged Piper with her foot. The two girls listened as Joel crept into the back room for the element of surprise. It wasn't long after that the door swung open. Heavy footsteps clanked against the cabin floor.

It was hard to see from the balcony. Ellie silently cursed, wanting to see what was going on below. Her curiosity peaked when she heard Joel speak, cocking his gun.

"-And the gun," Joel instructed.

"Who the hell are you?" The man defensively said. Ellie silently fussed at the inability to see without giving away her position. Piper couldn't care less about what happened downstairs as long as Joel didn't bite the dust.

"Just someone passin' through," Joel said. "Take the gun out, two fingers only, put it outta reach."

The man did as Joel instructed with a calm expression. He looked at his wife. "Why didn't you shoot him?"

Florence shrugged and motioned to where the gun sat in the corner of the room. "The gun's all the way over there. He didn't hurt me, by the way."

"Yeah, I got eyes," he replied. He caught sight of the table where three empty bowls lay. "You made him soup?"

"Yeah, I did. It's cold out," Florence replied.

Joel glanced between the two. They were conversing as if he wasn't there holding a gun to the two of them. "I'm lookin' for my brother," Joel interjected.

He looked Joel up and down and scoffed. "Well, I ain't seen him," he responded.

"I haven't told you what he looks like," Joel noted.

"He look anything like you?"

Joel shrugged, "A bit."

The man took off his coat and hung it up on the coat hanger. "Then I ain't seen him," he responds.

Florence smiled as she chimed in. "He's got two girls with him….” She said it like it was the biggest gossip she heard in twenty years.

"Can we come down?" Ellie asked, knowing Joel couldn't berate her for speaking up when Florence had exposed their presence. Besides, she had grown too stir crazy to keep sitting up there. Without hearing Joel's response, she jumped to the stairs and made her way down. Piper was slow to follow.

"No," Joel groaned into his hand. "Ellie! Piper!"

"Ooh-wa," Florence's husband chuckled. Florence began to giggle as well.

The girls stared at the man. He was old, just like his wife, but they weren't scrawny like most people. They were well fed, their skin a dark copper and dark hair to compliment it as well. If the world wasn't what it was, the girls might even consider the two to be normal. They might have been before the outbreak, but now they just seemed crazy with their nonchalant expressions.

"What did I just say?" Joel scolded the girls.

"Hey, I just came down 'cause she did," Piper explained.

Ellie sighed. "Joel, come on. They're, like, a thousand."

"Who are these little psychos?" The man asked.

Piper shot him a look. "I'm not little."

"But you are psycho," Ellie quipped. Piper elbowed her for the comment.

Joel rolled his eyes. "Never mind them," Joel told him.

"Who’s the bigger psycho?" The man asked with a grin on his face.

Piper and Ellie were rearing to get the first say when Joel announced loudly over them, "I need you to tell us where we are." He placed a wrinkled map on the table and pointed to it.

"If you got a map, why you lost?"

Ellie's face scrunched. " Must've missed all the street signs in the enormous fսcking forest," she hissed.

"Ho-ly," the man laughed.

Joel continued on. "We're somewhere here. Exactly where? And your answer better be the same as your wife's."

The man halted his laughter and looked at his wife. "Did you tell him the truth?"

She calmly rocked back and forth in her chair. "Yeah."

"Are you tellin' me the truth?"

Florence nodded, "Yeah." Her husband sighed and pointed to the location on the map.

Joel's jaw tensed. "Well, you found a great place to hide, I guess."

"Hide?" the man chuckled. " I came here before you were born, Sonny. Get the hell away from everybody."

"I didn't want to," Florence noted. Piper stifled a snort. The couple strangely amused her.

"Eh. Listen, I didn't mean to upset you about your brother," the man comforted, "but if you've come this far, then you know what's out there. You seen Cody?"

"Yeah, got close enough." Ellie shivered. "It's crawling with Infected."

The man nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, Laramie and Wind River Reservation. Anywhere people used to be, you can't go there no more."

"So you haven't heard the name Tommy?" Joel asked the man.

"Nope."

"What about the Fireflies?" Ellie piped up.

Florence smiled fondly, "We get those in the summer."

Piper sighed, "Not the bugs, the people."

"There are firefly people?" Florence asked. Then, she and her husband began to laugh again.

Joel was getting fed up with their laid-back attitude. "You got any advice on the best way west?"

"Yeah," the man said. "Go east. But you never go past the river here. Ever."

"What's past the river?" Piper questioned.

Florence glanced over at Piper; her face grew cold. "Death. We never see who's out there, but we see the bodies they leave behind. Some Infected, some not." Piper looked away. Something about the woman's stare sent chills down her spine. Florence turned to Joel. "If your brother's west of the river, he's gone."

Ellie scoffed as she crossed her arms across her chest. "You're not going to scare us," she says.

"Scared them," Florence corrected, motioning to Joel and Piper. Her husband laughed.

"Thanks for the soup," Piper muttered, hoping to change the newfound tension in the air. "It was delicious."

The rocking from the chair stopped as Florence replied, "No problem."

Without paying much more attention to Florence and her husband, Joel turned to the girls. His gun lowered. "Let’s go," Joel uttered.

Piper and Ellie shuffled around the cabin to follow Joel out the door. The cool winter air burned their cheeks as blood rushed to the surface to try and regulate their internal temperature. It was no use, but they were used to it by now. The relentless cold always nipped at their ears, cheeks, fingers, and toes. Even so, the girls shivered, their bodies craving the warmth from inside the cabin.

Ellie pulled her hat down hoping to drown her ears in the thick cotton. "You don't seriously believe them," Ellie joked, noticing Piper and Joel's abrupt silence once the cabin door closed.

Joel's feet trekked through the snow away from the cabin, not daring to look back. He wouldn't dare let himself miss the hospitality, the warmth, and the humanity of Florence's home. He didn't want to think about how comforting the sight of Piper and Ellie felt in a proper home with food. How he wished it could have been their home. No, Joel wouldn't think of that. He shouldn't. "They've lived here a long time," Joel responded, looking back at Ellie, whose hands were now full of rabbits. She had a gleeful smile on her face. "Put that back," Joel hissed.

"They'll be fine. Right, Piper?" Ellie nudged her sister, who still remained silent.

Ellie's weak forceful nudge nearly knocked Piper off her feet and into the cold, wet snow. The only response Ellie got was a warning glare from her sister.

"Sheesh,' Ellie shuddered as she placed back the rabbits. She began to mumble to herself. "They don't know anything. Never heard of the Fireflies. Bet they never knew about the outbreak when it first happened…"

"Ellie," Piper suddenly exclaimed, drawing her sister out of her disbelief.

It was strange. Joel had stopped walking. His hand tightly gripped the fence. His leather gloves creaked from the strain. Ellie quickly observed his rigid shoulders as they strained to go up and down.

"Joel?!" Piper's lips trembled. Her hands floated above Joel's back, and she was unsure if it was okay to touch him. The reflection of the snow illuminated the worry in her eyes.

Ellie darted beside Joel. His breathing was only getting harsher. "Joel? Joel? Joel, are you okay? Joel?!"

Piper shared a fearfully concerned glance with her sister. "Joel?! Come on, Joel, this isn't funny-"

"Shut up." The sound of Joel's voice silenced the girls. Joel clutched his chest right above his beating heart.

Ellie didn't miss the gesture of pain. "Holy shit, are you dying?"

"No, he's not. He's -Joel, you better fucking not die," Piper demanded. Panic was evident in her voice.

Joel withdrew his hand from his chest and waved it in the air in an attempt to soothe the girls' anxiety. "I'm okay," he said.

"Okay, are you okay?" Ellie asked.

"I'm fine," Joel hissed, not wanting the worry the girls had.

His tone only seemed to spur Ellie's increasing uneasiness. She stepped closer to Joel, who winced, feeling her shaking breath in his face. "No, no, but are you? Because just a reminder that if you're dead, we’re fսckеd."

"Ellie, give him some space!" Piper tried to yank Ellie back, but it was to no avail.

"No, the fucker’s dying on us."

Piper opened her mouth to respond when Joel's thick voice cut her off. "I said I'm fine."

The commanding tone repressed their paranoia but did little to subdue their concern. "Okay," they muttered in response.

"It's just the… cold air all of a sudden," Joel tried to reassure them.

Piper nodded, seeing right through Joel. It was something she had begun to pick up on all her time around the man. His little habits and tells. That's what happens when people go through hell and back together; some unspeakable bond grows. She hated to admit she had gotten accustomed to Joel's presence. She hated how she'd gotten lazy and dependent, a little less like a survivor and more like a, well, someone who was allowed to live. Almost. Piper wouldn't let herself get comfortable. She wouldn't grow attached. She wouldn't let Joel in, at least, not more so than he already had.

"All right, uh… so let's go and find Tommy and the Fireflies," Ellie said before marching through the snow.

"It's gonna be easy. All we have to do is cross the River of Death," Ellie sarcastically said as she got close to Piper's face. Piper rolled her eyes and shoved her sister. It made Ellie snicker.

Piper watched Joel continue to cling to the fence pole. She despised how her heart constricted at his hidden pain. What was worse was how her mind wildly pursued the question of the absence of Joel. It was an answer she never wanted to find. Maybe it was too late for Piper. Maybe Joel meant a bit more to her than she'd like. Reluctantly, Piper left Joel, her pace fast as she caught up with Ellie.

Joel watched both of them stomp through the snow. The shiny leather of Ellie's boots glistened under the winter sun, unlike Piper's worn and wilting boots, which repelled the sunlight. He glanced down at his own boots. It was a repulsing sight. The darkened soles were peeling along the edges, and the leather was frayed. They wouldn't last long. Joel just hoped they'd keep out the snow and ice for a little while longer.

꧁_꧂

Evening light trickled into the water. The water reflected the light as if it were made of diamonds. Accompanying the burst of opalescent colors was the thunderous sound water rushing past. The noise was deafening to Piper's ears. If it weren't for how close she huddled next to Ellie she wouldn't have heard the satirical comment she had made.

"The River of Death. Scary." Ellie turned away with a smile on her face. Piper and Joel peered over their shoulders at her, bearing the same annoyed expression. Ellie wasn't going to give up the bit. She was having too much fun.

"Don't start," Joel sighed.

Ellie giggled. The sound was infectious as it eased Piper's face into a soft smile.

"It's too close to dark," Joel noted. "There's some caves along the river. We'll set up camp there, cross in the morning'."

"Good. I'm starving," Piper added. Her stomach rumbled.

"Should've stolen two rabbits," Ellie mumbled.

"We can get our own rabbits," Joel said. His hands grazed his hips as they trekked further along.

Ellie practically jumped in front of him. "You gonna teach me how?" She beamed up at Joel.

Piper awaited Joel's response, even more so than Ellie. She had never learned how to hunt. There was never really the need back in the QZ. Even if it wasn't plentiful, food was always provided to her and Ellie. She knew the basics behind it: take a gun or trap, shoot, skin or prep, and eat. However, there was something foreign about hunting animals. All she'd ever shot were Infected people. Piper was a killer. She wondered if she could ever be a hunter or if she was forever cursed to kill.

"Just keep movin'," was all Joel said. Ellie sighed in disappointment.

Finding a suitable cave for the night hadn't taken them long. It was large enough to provide them shelter but not deep enough to house anything deadly. Joel had gotten busy building a fire. He had sent the girls off to get firewood a while ago, which they had done, but they had been absent since then.

The fire crackled, its flames dancing around as the smoke rose into the night sky like a prayer for all to see. They were so far out from any civilization that Joel wasn't too worried about the smoke. Even so, he kept his gun beside him, his hand on the barrel.

Joel watched the fire. His eyes froze over as they became entranced with the flames. His eyes dared to follow the smoke as it merged with the night sky above. That's when he spotted his girl's tattered coats. Joel frowned. The girls, he corrected himself. They weren't his. They were cargo, and that's all they would ever be. It was a delusion he hoped would become a reality so long as he kept saying it. The girls. His eyes focused on them as they gazed up at the night sky. He could see the awe in their eyes. They seemed at ease as the stars twinkled above them.

How long has it been since Joel looked up? He could recall a time when he'd watch the stars with Sarah. He refused to spare them a glance, knowing she was in the heavens alongside the stars. Yet, he found himself looking up. If his girls were watching, he wanted to watch them together.

His girls. The girls. The girls. THE GIRLS.

A clear whistle escaped Joel's cracked lips. His fingers fell as Piper and Ellie peered at him from the boulder. "Come down from there. You're gonna break your neck," Joel instructed.

He watched as the girls grunted slowly, descending the rock. Their feet hit the ground, and slowly, they crept to a seat by the fire. They welcomed the heat as it warmed them to their bones and fought back the deadly chill of the night. Piper sniffled and shivered, inching her body closer to the fire.

Meanwhile, Joel leaned back against a log. His body ached from all the use and travel. He was getting too old for him. Just like his tattered boots, he felt like he was falling apart. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out some duct tape and taped his boots. With his teeth, he cut the tape and put the finishing touches on his makeshift repair. Immediately after, he replaced the tape for his flask, taking a swig.

"Ahh…," Ellie muttered,, noticing the flask. "Can I have some?"

"No," Joel and Piper said.

Ellie began to wonder if they were the same person. "What? Just to warm up. C'mon," she begged, flashing her puppy eyes. Joel sighed, caving to Ellie's demands. She eagerly snatched the flask from Joel and took a sip. Her face scrunched up with disgust as she fought not to spit out the liquid. "Yep… still gross," she coughed. Her arm reached forward to hand it back to Joel when Piper intercepted.

"Give me," Piper said. Joel gave her a look, and Piper rolled her eyes. "What? If Ellie got a sip, why can’t I?" Again, Joel caved, and Piper took the flask. She unscrewed the lid and gulped down a sip with an expression of familiarity. It was an expression that drew fascination from her sister and concern from Joel. Piper tossed the flask back to Joel, the weight of which felt heavy in his hands.

"So, I've been thinking," Ellie began. "Let's say we find the Fireflies; it all works. They draw my blood and put it through some of their fancy machines to make a cure."

"Okay?" Joel said.

"Then what?" Ellie pondered. Joel flashed her a look of confusion. "Like, what do we do?"

His heart clenched and a thought of elation filled his mind. His girls. Internally, he shook his head. The girls, he corrected his thoughts. "Oh, it's we?"

Ellie covered the frown threatening to appear on her face. "Okay, fine. Whatever. You. You can do anything you want. Where are you going? What are you doing?"

Joel shrugged as he fiddled with the flask. "It's never been an option." Clearing his throat, he continued, "Maybe… an old farmhouse, some land… a ranch."

"Cool. What kind?" Ellie asked.

Joel's brows furrowed in thought before he responded, "Sheep. I would raise sheep. Sheep. They're quiet… do what they're told."

Ellie and Piper snickered, taking the hint. "Yeah, yeah. Okay," Ellie repeated, "So, just you and a buncha sheep. Romantic."

Joel sat up, placing the flask away. "And what about you two? Where are you gonna go?"

"Don’t know," Piper replied. She had always gone where Ellie went. They were always together; as long as Piper had Ellie, she'd be fine. As long it was the three-two of them. Using her elbow, she nudged her sister. "Ellie?"

Ellie gazed up at the sky as she answered. "It's probably because I grew up in the QZ. Behind you, there's the ocean, and ahead of you, there's a wall. Nowhere else to look but up." Joel couldn't help but follow her gaze. The stars waltzed between the dark blues and blacks of the night sky. "I read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin, Jim Lovell. But you know who my favorite is?"

"Sally Ride," Joel and Piper say instinctively.

Ellie beamed at their answer. "Sally fսckin' Ride! Best astronaut name ever." The fire cracked loudly, leaving a deafening silence of if: If the cure worked. If life could ever return to normal. Ellie wasn't even really sure what normal was supposed to be. The closest she'd ever gotten to it was watching Florence and her husband. "It'll work, right?" Her voice was quiet and unsure as she spoke. "The vaccine?"

"It's a little late to start wonderin'," Joel stated.

"I tried," Ellie blurted. "…with Sam and…" Her gaze traveled over to her sister's arm where she had been bitten. It hadn't worked with Sam, but she had saved Piper. Ellie was sure of it. Her blood was the cure. She gave up every single drop if it meant that she could save what was left of her world. This cruel world, the Infected, the fungus, had taken everything from her: Her mom, Riley, Tess, Sam, and Henry. She refused to let that list have the names "Piper" and "Joel" written on it.

"Tried what?" Joel wondered.

"I knew he was infected,” Ellie admitted. "I rubbed some of my blood into his bite." Ellie could feel the stares Joel and Piper were giving her. She didn't dare look at them. "I know, I know, it was stupid. But I… I wanted to save him." She couldn't save Sam, but she would save everyone else.

"Well, I reckon it's a lot more complicated than that," Joel admitted. "Marlene, she's a lotta things, but… she's no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it."

Ellie absently nodded at Joel's words. She was gonna save the world. Then she'd never have to lose anyone again. She wouldn't be alone.

On the other hand, Piper's mind began contemplating what Joel had said. The word "complicated" echoed in her head. She couldn't help but wonder what Marlene really had in store for her and Ellie. "You wanna take first watch or second?" Piper sighed, knowing her paranoid thoughts about what the cure entailed would get her nowhere.

"I'll do both," Joel told them, sitting up straighter and bringing his gun into his lap.

"Joel…," Piper pleaded with the memory of Joel clutching onto the fence like a lifeline still in his mind.

He brushed her off as he stood up. "Get some sleep. Dream of…," Joel smiled as he looked down at his girls. He'd let his delusions go for one night. "…sheep ranches on the moon."

"I will," Ellie smiled back up at him. Piper sat silent.

"That includes you, Piper. Get to bed," Joel said.

Piper sighed and looked deep into the firelight. "I’m not tired just yet."

Reluctantly, Joel turned away from the fire and his girls stepped into the cold winter night doing his round of patrol, leaving the girls to doze off by the fire side with each crunch of the snow beneath his feet. By the time he returned, Ellie was quietly snoring into her shoulder. Her small body cuddled close to Piper, whose arm was wrapped around her sister.

Joel resumed his seat by the fire. His joints flared as the heat of the fire slowly sank back into them. "Thought I told you to get to bed."

"Thought I told you I wasn't tired," Piper spat back.

Joel's eyes widened. "Look, Kid. You need the sleep more than I do."

Piper sniffled and wiped her nose drawing her legs closer to her body. "You sure about that?"

Joel looked away, finding his tongue trapped in his throat. Instead he found words for something else. "What's your dream?" Piper flashed Joel a confused look. "You never answered what you would do if it all worked out."

Piper bit her lip, her eyes fell down on Ellie's sleeping figure. "All I've ever…Have you ever thought you were cursed?" Joel shook his head. "I think I'm cursed. Actually, I know I am," Piper scoffed.

"Cursed?" Joel questioned.

"To kill." Piper pulled her arm away from Ellie and stared at her shaking hands. In the light of the fire, they only grew more red, A dark red that seemed to seep underneath her skin. She shuddered. "It's all I was used to in the QZ. It's all I've known." She couldn't bear to look at her hands any longer, instead resorted to shoving them under her legs. "I'm cursed to kill when all I want is to save…but I can't." her voice caught in her throat. "I can only save Ellie. She's all that matters. So, as long as I can do that, I'll be fine."

"Kid," Joel paused. "Piper." The sound of her name drew her attention. "You are more than a sister. You can want something for yourself that is outside of Ellie."

Piper scoffed. "Says you. You've been on and on about Tommy. What about you then? What is your dream outside of Tommy?"

"I-" Joel began to refute Piper's words, but something stopped him. She was right. He'd started this whole thing for Tommy: picked up the girls, lost Tess, danced with death, saw the impossible, and all for someone who could be dead. Piper and him were one in the same. As long as their family was safe and happy, so would they be. But as Joel really pondered her question, the dream of the farm came back into mind. The farm with the quiet sheep, the peaceful life. Except now, this dream had room for more, yet Joel wasn't sure if there was room for his girls in the first place.

"It's getting late," Joel remarked,,, standing up again to watch. This time, Piper didn't refuse sleep. Instead, she let the silence close in on her as the warmth of the fire cascaded over her body. The only sign of life was the slow rise and fall of her chest, the rhythm to which Joel stepped as he guarded his girls from the looming horrors of the night.

꧁_꧂

"Should we wake him up?" Ellie asked, craning her neck up to look at the boulder's ledge. The morning sun shone brightly in her eyes, painting Piper's figure as a shadow.

Piper was standing tall on the boulder with her gun in hand. Her dark eyes surveyed the area before glancing down at Ellie and shaking her head. "Nah, he'll wake up on his own. Besides, the man needs his beauty sleep." She quietly chuckled to herself.

Ellie shrugged and peered down at Joel, who was sleeping on the ground close to her. She watched as his brows furrowed and his forehead creased. She stepped closer to Joel, now hearing the incoherent mumblings that spilled from his mouth.

The sound of the earth crunching beneath Ellie's feet stirred Joel awake. He sat up with a hiss of air as his hands fumbled for his rifle.

"Still mumbling in your sleep," Ellie said. Joel looked up at her and noticed his gun in her hands. "I woke up early. You were passed out, so I took second watch."

Joel frowned.

"I helped!" Piper announced from atop the boulder. Her eyes winced from the sound of her own voice, intensifying the pounding in her head.

His eyes followed the sound of Piper's voice. The harsh sunlight invaded his senses as he tried to look up at her. "You gotta wake me up if that happens. And get down from there!" He scolded the girls.

"Piper told me not to," Ellie defended.

With a huff, Piper hopped down from the rock. "You need sleep too, Joel."

Joel rolled his eyes and snatched his gun away from Ellie. "You girls can't do things like this," he told them.

"But I can…," Ellie noted. "…'cause I just did."

It was much too early in the morning for Joel to be dealing with this already. A heavy sigh escaped his chest. "I'm responsible for you too, okay?" He looked between the girls.

Ellie shrugged. "Then don't fall asleep." Joel opened his mouth to refute her words again. However, Ellie did what she did best and continued to talk. "I was quiet. I checked my six. I looked for tracks. I found the high ground, and I kept watch. Like you taught me to," Ellie explained.

Joel bore a skeptical look on his face. "She did," Piper disclosed. "I checked."

"What can I say, man? I'm a natural." Ellie flashed Joel a smug smile. Piper gave a smile of her own.

The longer he looked at them, the harder it was to reprimand them. "Uh-huh. You wake me up next time," Joel instructed.

"Yes, sir. attention!" Ellie joked,, raising her hand to her head. Piper followed suit, stifling her snickers, and Joel couldn't help the smile that leaked onto his face.

"Alright, grab your stuff, and let's go." Joel motioned to their packs on the ground. The girls silently groaned as they shuffled to retrieve their things, knowing only more walking was ahead of them.

꧁_꧂

It was supposed to be pitch black in Ellie's and Piper's shared room. After all, it had been hours since the “lights out” signal, but even so, there was a faint glow seeping out from the walls-glow in the dark stars. It had been a gift from Levi. He had told Piper that he'd found them one day and thought she might like them. With a grin on her face, she took them to Ellie, and together, they put them on the walls and ceiling of their room.

Magic was how Ellie described it, and Piper couldn't think of a better word as the two would gaze upon their own personal stars. Some nights, Piper would even make a wish right as her eyes, filled with too much sleep, couldn't bear to look at them any longer. She'd wish for things like a real family and a home. Somewhere out of the QZ. Somewhere free, maybe some animals too. She'd always loved animals, but their presence was almost non-existent.

However, tonight, as Piper trickled into the room after hours, she didn't want to wish on the stars. She didn't want to even look towards their light. All she wanted to do was tear them down. Her feet slowly dragged on the hardwood floors over to the nearest star. Raising her hand, she yanked it down. It felt so good hearing the snap of the adhesive as the force pulled them to the ground, darkening their light. She pulled another and another with no care for the red marks she left on the wall. She kept pulling and pulling until she heard Ellie's bed creak.

"Pipe?" Ellie croaked. Her voice crackled from the cold. Piper winced. A blanket. She was supposed to grab another blanket for Ellie. Their room was freezing, and the cold, she knew, could be deadly at night.

"Yeah?" Piper replied.

"Why are you taking down our stars?"

Piper grew so quiet that Ellie wasn't even sure she heard her sister breathing. "It's late, Els. Why are you up?"

Ellie shuffled in the bed. Piper could hear the sheets shake with her shivers. "I was scared. You have left."

"I'm here now. Just go back to bed."

Ellie sat up and reached for a book underneath her pillow. She held it out to Piper, who knew exactly what book it was. "Can you read to me?" Ellie pleaded.

Piper sighed and nodded. She stepped forward to grab the book when the red on her hands became apparent. Even in the dark, the red seemed to be even darker. She could see it all covering her entire body. Slowly, she recoiled from Ellie and changed; Using her soiled clothes to wipe away as much as possible from her face and hands. Eventually, she returned to Ellie, freshly changed. She took the book in her hand and, with the other, tugged her own blanket off her bed and climbed into Ellie's. Piper took extra care to lay the second blanket on top before opening the book.

She had read it so often that there was hardly a need for a light to see the words. As she began to recite the myths and tales of the stars, Piper began to like the dark, to find comfort in the night. The more she whispered to Ellie the tragedies of the gods that put them in the sky, the more she began to be repulsed by the starlight. It made her sick to her stomach, but Ellie loved them. Ellie loved the sky, the stars, and what lay beyond. So, Piper told herself she would like them too. But for tonight, all she wanted to do was loathe them, and only for tonight she would. Why would she want to look for the light when she found comfort in being lost in the darkness?

꧁_꧂

The pounding in Piper's head was getting worse the more Ellie fiddled with her mouth and fingers. Ellie was trying to whistle, but it came out as whimpering shrieks that only added to Piper's pain. Piper sent her sister a glare, not trusting herself enough to be civil with words.

"What?" Ellie responded. "I'm learning how to whistle."

Joel peeked over his shoulder at Ellie. "You don't know how to whistle?"

Ellie huffed and let her hands fall at her side. "Does it sound like I know how to whistle?"

"No," Joel replied, shaking his head.

After a few more failed attempts, Ellie sighed. "Seriously, though, how the fսck do you do that?"

"Talent," Joel shrugged.

Rolling her eyes, Ellie replied, "Whatever. You should teach me how to hunt."

"Huh," was all Joel could say in response.

"Huh," Ellie repeated in a deep voice, mocking Joel. "Like, she's a girl. She can't handle it."

Joel stopped in his tracks and turned around. "You can handle the shootin'. Not so sure about the dressin'," he sighed.

Ellie's brows furrowed. "What's the dressin'?"

"Isn't that the part where you take the guts out," Piper added.

"Oh, yeah," Ellie's eyes widened. "Why do they call it dressing? It's like, you should call it undressing 'cause it is. It's like… undressing from the inside. Still interested, though."

Soon, it became too loud for any of them to hear what Ellie had been saying. Tons and tons of water rushed out of a dam and crashed on the rocks below. The water flashed shades of green and yellow as the sun darted from behind the clouds. The three of them all stopped to wonder in the presence of the water. The sound was deafening, and any thoughts they had in their heads were drowned out.

"Dam," Ellie enunciated. She placed her hand on her hips and flashed a smug grin to Joel and Piper.

"You're no Will Livingston," Piper chuckled.

"Yeah, yeah, but who is?" Ellie playfully shrugged before turning to Joel. "So that made electricity?" She asked him.

"Yeah," Joel nodded. He caught sight of another question brewing in her eyes. "Don't ask me. I don't have a clue."

"You know, you could've just made something up," Ellie noted. "I would've believed you," she said as they turned away from the dam.

Piper chuckled. "True," she pointed out. "Like that time I told you how the baby got into the lady's stomach."

Ellie gasped. "That was a lie?"

"And you still believed it?" Piper snickered, "Thought they covered that in the QZ at some point." She playfully shoved Ellie's shoulder, almost knocking her into the snow.

"Hey!" Ellie yelled, regaining balance to return the favor to Piper. Piper gasped as she hit the freezing cold snow.

Piper hastily stood up, brushing off the pale snow from her clothes and grumbling to herself about the cold and hygiene.

"Pshh," Ellie chuckled, sending her sister a teasing look. Following her sister's rising frame, Ellie caught sight of the vast blue water. Her eyes bulged as she stumbled forward for a better look. "Look at that river. It's crazy blue!" She pointed as Joel and Piper huddled around her.

Piper glanced around. Nervousness escaped her eyes and seeped into her voice. "Hey, Joel… what if this is the River of Death?"

Joel hurriedly yanked out the map and flipped it around. His feet turned in circles as his mind desperately confirmed his fears.

A sharp chorus of neighs and pounding footsteps appeared over the hill. Riders, horses, and dogs charged towards them one by one.

"Joel!" Piper cried out, stepping back towards the water and away from the approaching mass.

"Get behind me," Joel instructed the girls. Ellie and Piper wasted no time hiding behind Joel's large figure. When the horses arrived, the girl's knuckles had turned white. "We ain't lookin' for any trouble. We're just passin' through," Joel announced to the riders.

The rider in front motioned with his gun. "Drop the gun," he told Joel, who quickly complied. Then the man pointed to Piper and Ellie. "You two… take five steps back."

Piper gulped as she fought to hold back the growing fear. Ellie wasn't doing much better, her fear echoing in her shaking eyes.

"How 'bout we just talk this through?" Joel asked, raising his hands.

"How 'bout you shut the fսck up?" One of the other riders bellowed.

"Okay, easy," Joel said before looking back at the girls. The brief glances he gave them eased some of the building anxiety. Something about Joel's dark eyes helped Piper feel safe. Whether she liked it or not, Piper trusted Joel. "You'll be okay," Joel comforted.

As the girls stepped back, the rider in front asked, "You been near Infected?"

"There's no Infected out here," Joel responded.

"The hell there ain't," Another one grumbled.

Suddenly, the front man hopped down from his horse and whistled. It was loud and clear before everything went silent. Instantly, the sounds of a vicious barking ripped through the air.

"Last chance for a bullet," the man warned. "If you've been infected, he will smell it, and he will rip you up."

At that moment, as the deadly sharp teeth of the dog shimmered in the sun, Ellie wished she was holding Piper's hand. She was scared. She had been bit, and so had Piper. They were immune, but if the dog smelt anything, they'd be dead. She’d be dead before she could save anyone. She'd-

"Like I said… we'll just move on," Joel stated as the dog approached him. The animal sniffed before placing its paws gently on his torso. Joel was clean.

"Now her," the man said, pointing to Ellie. Joel's ears felt on fire as he listened to each sniffle and huff of the dog. His heart clenched and he soon found it hard to breathe. Just as fast as he was cleared, so was Ellie. The sound of her giggles as the dog playfully licked her face, eased some of the tension in Joel's body. However, they weren't clear yet.

"Last one," the rider said, pulling the dog away from Ellie.

Joel dared, looking behind at Piper. Her face showed no uncertainty as the dog approached growling. Despite her fearless appearance, Joel saw the terror in her eyes. It was the same look she had that night in the motel. The same look she bore when she asked him to kill her and make that horrifying promise to her. Now, he wished he hadn't looked, but even so, Joel couldn't look away. Not until both of his girls were alright.

The dog had begun its search. Piper's hands were wet and warm as her nails cut through the feeble gloves and into her skin. Her eyes clenched shut from the pain. Each sniffle was a reminder that her own breath could be her last. Ellie was cleared, and so should Piper. No matter how much she kept telling herself that, Piper knew she was different. The way those Infected ignored her as if she was one of them. Piper prepared for the worst but prayed for the best. Prayed that maybe Joel could save her if the dog went for her throat. Maybe they could hold off this huge group. Maybe-

A comforting weight was placed on her chest, and her cheeks burned from the dog's wet kisses. Light flooded her view, and Piper looked down and smiled. She was safe.

The man whistled, and the dog propelled itself off Piper. "You just bought yourself 10 more seconds. What are you doin' out here?" The man interrogated.

Joel stepped back near the girls and answered. "I'm just lookin' for my brother. That's all, nothing' more."

A voice from the back shot over the crowd. Pulling her horse forward, a woman approached Joel and the girls. "What's your name?"

"Joel," he replied.

The woman's eyes widened. She began telling some of the riders to grab horses for the three of them.

"You're gonna wanna come with us," she said. "I'm Maria, by the way."

The three of them shared confused looks as they were placed on horses. Piper sat behind Ellie on a large tan stead. The horse neighed as Ellie curiously reached forward to pet its mane. Joel was placed on a dark brown horse. Once they were settled, the group moved forward and the horses trotted along carrying them away to wherever Marlene was taking them.

꧁_꧂

Maria spoke little of their destination, but even with the little she said, she convinced Joel. If Joel was convinced, so were the girls. It wasn't until they saw the looming metallic and wooden walls that they knew they were entering a settlement. The sight of the walls did little to put Piper at ease. She knew once she entered their confines that it'd be hard to leave. She just hoped Joel knew how to get them out if needed.

The gates to the community opened with a screech, and the horses carried them deeper into the town. With each prance, the more uneasy Ellie and Piper felt. People walked along the roadside chatting and laughing. Kids played in a playground, teasing each other before finding a snowball headed towards their faces. Groups all around worked together, all with determined smiles on their faces. Everything was normal until the group pranced further down the road. Their smiles would falter and would be replaced with curious and confused stares.

The girls didn't know what they hated more, the cheerful and carefree smiles or the curious stares. All the eyes on them made Ellie and Piper feel as if they were monkeys in a zoo. Made to be observed and ogled at. Piper felt particularly on edge when a group of young children stopped and whispered while pointing at her and Ellie. After sending them a curt middle finger, the children gasped or fled in fear. An emotion that made Piper and Ellie feel a bit more at ease.

Soon, the horse slowed and came to a halt. Piper peered over Ellie's shoulder and saw Maria motion to Joel and point to a group of people fixing up a building. Joel's eyes squinted before expanding with an expression that Piper had never seen from him before. At first, she thought it was relief or hope, but she knew her assumptions were wrong; the second, Joel jumped off his horse and called his brother's name. It was love.

Ellie and Piper watched as Joel ran toward Tommy and enveloped him in a hug. His face beaming, a laugh of joy and disbelief escaped his lips. There was a pain in her chest at the sight of Joel and his brother. She felt sick as Joel became someone she didn't recognize. Turning her gaze away, she glanced at Ellie, whose head hung low, hiding her eyes, which felt the very same pain.

"It's okay," Piper whispered in her sister's ear. It was a lifeless comfort. Nothing Piper could say would ever ease the ache in both of their hearts. They were cargo. Tommy was family. The girls had to keep reminding themselves of that, even if their hearts were dreaming for something else.

It didn't take long for the joyous reunion to end. Everyone was ushered inside, and a hot meal was placed down in front of them. The ache in the girl's heart seemed to be never-ending, but the sight and scent of a decent meal helped distract from the hurt.

Before the steam from the plate could dissipate, the girl's plates had been practically cleared.

Maria sat beside Tommy, who watched in horror as Joel and the girls scarfed down their food. "There's more if you need it," Maria mentioned.

Joel looked up from his plate and noticed the hurried manner in which they had been eating. Slowly swallowing his food, he sat up straighter and adjusted how he held his fork. Clearing his throat, he began, "Thank you, ma'am. It's been a while since we've had a proper meal."

"Actually," Ellie said as she chewed another bite, "I don't think I've ever had a proper meal. This is fսckin' amazing."

Simultaneously, Piper took a bite and moaned, "Fuuck, that’s good."

Joel felt his cheeks grow red. "Sorry. Ellie, Piper…," the girls snapped their heads in his direction, cheeks stuffed with food. "…let's mind our manners."

Piper gulped. "Sorry," she quietly apologized.

Ellie, on the other hand, ignored Joel's words until Piper kicked her shin. Ellie sent her sister a glare when she noticed another figure looking at them from afar. It was a girl with dark hair and tan skin. She peeked around the corner and caught sight of Ellie's stare.

"What?!" Ellie yelled, scaring the girl away.

"What's wrong with you?" Joel hissed.

"What about her manners?" Ellie quipped back.

Maria calmly placed a hand on the table. "She was just curious. Kids around here don't usually look or talk like you."

"Right… well, maybe Piper and I’ll teach them," Ellie muttered before taking another bite.

Joel sighed and gave Maria and Tommy an apologetic look.

"I want my gun back," Piper said, looking up at Tommy and Maria.

"Kids here also aren't armed," Maria noted.

Piper scoffed. "But what if-"

"Then the adults step in," Maria responded. "Kids deserve to be kids."

Maria's comment made Piper scoff once again. She placed down her fork and stared at the woman. "So what?" Piper spat, "You think I'm just gonna let some fucker-"

"Piper," Joel reprimanded, sending her a glare that was returned by the rolling of her eyes.

Tommy sat up in his chair. His eyes darted between Joel and Piper. "You know what? Uh…" Tommy muttered. "I think maybe y'all got a little off on the wrong foot."

Piper snickered and pointed at Maria. "She was gonna have her guys kill us."

"Well, we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place," Tommy explained. "But it's all bark. We're just tryna scare off those who might wanna try us."

"Well, you got a couple of 90-year-olds shitting themselves out there," Ellie added.

"Ellie," Joel cautioned.

"What?" Ellie hissed.

"They say that you leave dead bodies around," Piper said, staring down at Maria.

"Those are the people who tried us," Maria replied, leaning forward.

Tommy placed a hand on Maria's shoulder. "A bad reputation doesn't mean you're bad," he noted.

"Not always, at least," Maria said.

"Ma'am…," Joel began. "We're grateful for your hospitality and all. But it'd be nice to have a moment here, maybe just for family."

Tommy's eyes shifted to Maria and then his brother. "Well, um… Maria is family, actually,' Tommy corrected.

Ellie was the first to get Tommy's meaning. "Oh, shit! Congrats," she congratulated.

"Congrats," Piper begrudgingly muttered. Her glare at Maria softened. She looked to her right and noticed Joel's silence. "Joel, say congrats," Piper encouraged.

"Congrats," Joel mumbled, and a silence followed.

Feeling uneasy with how his brother was looking at him, Tommy stood up from his seat. "How 'bout a tour?"

꧁_꧂

The chilly winter air pinkened their cheeks and the tips of their ears as they emerged from the dining hall. Maria took the lead with Tommy in the back as they began the tour of the settlement.

"We settled here about seven years ago," Maria began. "Just a handful of us back then."

The girls looked around, acknowledging the street bordered with buildings of shapes and colors. Piper sniffled as the cold reached her nose. The sniffle was cut short in her throat, and it didn't take long for her lungs to heave. Stopping in her tracks, Piper keeled over and coughed.

The whole group stopped to look at her. She hated having their eyes glued to her. After all, it was just a simple cough. "Are you good? You look sick," Joel stated.

Forcing the cough away, Piper replied, "I’m not–I’m fine. I don’t get sick." She stood straight and stared at the group as if the look in her eye could wash away any doubt they had in her impeccable health.

Maria stepped forward and, in a gentle voice, spoke. "The doctor’s is just down the street, I can take y’all there to-"

"I said I’m fucking fine!" Piper spat.

"Piper," Joel hissed.

"What?" Piper said.

Taking a good look at her, Joel saw the signs: the pink nose, the recent headaches, the coughing. So, for the first time since Tommy made his announcement, Joel looked at Maria. "If you could show us to the doctor, that’d be great."

"Joel!" Piper whined, the sound of betrayal deeply ingrained in her voice.

"Pipes, come on," Ellie chimed in, placing a hand on her sister's shoulder. "You've been coughing and grabbing your head for days now."

Piper took one swing and swatted Ellie's hand away. "Ellie, I swear to fuck–"

"I’ll take you after the tour," Maria loudly announced, silencing the rising argument. Turning over her shoulder, she picked the tour back up as if nothing ever happened. "That section was already a gated community, so we built the rest of the wall out from there. Stopped most of the raiding parties, but we still found pockets of them."

"And you said Infected?" Joel asked.

Tommy jogged up close to his brother and, leaning in, explained, "Yeah, but usually smaller colonies wandered off from the cities. All this open country out here… it's a turkey shoot. I still got my 700, but I found a variable power scope. Sub-MOA." With a beam on his face, he continued. "Can headshot those fuckers from a half mile out."

Ellie's ears perked at the mention of Tommy's shooting. She glanced over at Joel and then back at Tommy, who was a lot more likable than the other. She thought to herself that maybe if Joel wasn't willing to teach her, then maybe Tommy might. "Can you teach me how?" She found herself wishfully asking.

Joel peered over his shoulder and glared. "No, he can't," he said, turning to Maria to propose another question: "How do you keep this place quiet?"

"Carefully," Maria said, "Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio. House of worship, multifaith. School. Laundry. Old bank works as the jail, not that we've needed it."

"And you draw power from the dam?" Joel questioned.

"Got that workin' a couple years ago," Tommy mentioned. "After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters… lights."

The girls shared a moment of awe, even if they did not display it on their faces. "This place actually fսckin' works," Ellie mumbled to herself.

Piper leaned close to her sister and whispered, "I know, right? Hey, look," Piper patted Ellie's shoulder and pointed to a herd of sheep. Their white, fluffy fur made them look like the clouds above. The girls strayed from the group and hopped onto the fence. "Hey Joel, check it out!" Piper smirked,, earning a chuckle from Ellie and an eye roll from Joel.

"So are you, like, in charge?" Ellie asked after jumping off the fence and returning to the tour group.

"No one person's in charge," Maria explained. "I'm on the council. Democratically elected, serving 300 people, including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, hunting, and harvesting. Everything you see in our town, including greenhouses and livestock, is shared. Collective ownership."

"So, uh, communism," Joel scoffed.

Tommy shook his head. "Nah. Nah, it ain't like that."

Maria chuckled and looked at her husband. "It is that. Literally." Tommy's face dropped as contemplation and confusion flooded his face. "This is a commune. We're communists."

Ellie and Piper shrugged, not sure what 'communism' was, and instead focused their attention on the stables nearby. In one of the stalls, a tiny head popped out causing Ellie to shriek and wipe away her detached expression. "No way!"

Maria smiled upon seeing the cause of Ellie's excitement. "That's our newest one. Couple of months old. You wanna pet her?" Maria motioned for Ellie to get closer.

Ellie didn't waste any time petting the small horse. "What's her name?" She softly asked.

"Shimmer," Maria replied.

"Shimmer," Ellie cooed. "You're so beautiful."

Upon noticing Piper's distance, Maria gently smiled at the girl. "You can pet her too," she said.

Piper shook her head and coughed. "No thanks," she said, trying to cover up the tension in her lungs.

Ellie reluctantly turned away from Shimmer and looked back at her sister. "You know, I’m starting to think you are sick."

"Fucking hell, Ellie," Piper growled. "You know I don’t get sick."

"Everyone gets sick," Maria assured Piper before turning to Tommy. "Well, I'm sure they'd like a shower and some new clothes. We can put them in the empty house across the street from us."

Tommy nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. It's a decent place. Pretty much untouched since '03, but it's got the heat goin' in it. Could do worse."

"Oh," Ellie noted, "trust me, we have been."

"We've been doin' fine," Joel reiterated.

"Well," Maria said. I'll take Ellie over there and Piper to the doctor if you two want to catch up."

Piper's eyes widened, and she raised her shoulders in defense. "I’m not goi–"

"You’re going," Joel decided. Piper opened her mouth to refute but was shot down by the look in Joel's dark eyes.

"Yeah," Tommy nodded. "Okay."

"Joel," Ellie muttered, glancing over to Joel.

"You'll be fine," he reassured. "You both will be fine." Piper rolled her eyes and huffed as Joel and Tommy walked away, already beginning to talk amongst themselves.

"Shall we?" Maria asked.

"Uh, yeah," Ellie replied before looking at her sister.

"Fine," Piper grumbled.

Maria began to walk before peering over her shoulder at the girls. "I’ll take you to the Doctor first. It’s on the way," Maria said. "Doctor Watson is a nice man. Knows what he’s doing. You’re in good hands."

"I’m not–" Piper complained.

"-Sick," Maria finished. "I know. But let’s hear it from someone who knows."

꧁_꧂

Ellie had to shove Piper through the doctor's office doors. Maria couldn't help but chuckle to herself at the sight in front of her. While the two girls struggled, she easily stepped inside and greeted the young man sitting behind the desk.

"Hello, Charlie," she smiled. A head of dark curly hair looked up at the three of them. His black eyes darted between Maria and Piper, who was fighting off Ellie's attempts at manhandling her.

"Maria, to what do I owe the pleasure," Charlie asked once the front door loudly slammed shut.

"I’ve got a friend here who needs to see Doctor Watson," Maria spoke before pointing to Piper.

"I see," Charlie nodded. "We’ll take good care of her."

"I know you will," Maria agreed before turning to Piper. "Piper, I’ll be back in a while. I’m just taking Ellie to the house."

Piper's eyes widened, and she nervously looked over to her sister. "But–"

"Just to check," Maria reminded.

"Stop being such a baby, Pipes," Ellie chimed in.

"Fuck you," Piper whined in response as Ellie and Maria walked out the doors just as quickly as they had come in. With a huff, Piper spotted an empty seat and sat down, fiddling with her hands in an attempt to ignore the stares from the boy.

"Haven’t seen your face before," Charlie said as he peeked his head over the desk.

"Fuck off," Piper hissed.

"Yikes. She bites," chuckled Charlie. Deciding that his current viewpoint wasn't satisfactory, he stood up, leaned against the desk, and smiled cheerfully at Piper.

She hated that smile. She hated his bouncy, curly head of hair and his soft, dark eyes. They reminded her of Joel's. The very eyes she recently found herself finding comfort. "And who the fuck are you?" She questioned, not really wanting to hear the answer.

"Charleston Brekker." He took out his hand for her to shake. Piper glared at his hand as if it had created the biggest offense in the history of the world. Awkwardly, Charlie withdrew his hand and placed it in his pants pocket. "But I go by Charlie. I’m the doc’s intern of sorts. He’s showing me the ropes and whatnot before he kicks the can."

"That’s a fucking mouthful," Piper mumbled. "And Brekker? More like a breaker."

Charlie nervously chuckled. "Haha, very funny. What’s your name?"

Piper scoffed, "As if I’d tell you."

Shrugging his shoulders, Charlie sighed. "Alright, Piper, thought I’d at least give you the chance to tell me yourself." He wanted to laugh at the look of disbelief on her face. "I heard Maria say it,' he explained.

"Fuck you."

Charlie glanced down at the ground fighting the urge to sigh again. To him, trying to make conversation with Piper was like trying to pet a wolf. "The Doctor is seeing someone else right now, should be out soon," he said.

"Whatever."

So far, Charlie has tried two potential conversation openers. Piper had shot down both of them. Luckily, Charlie had a plethora of backup plans. "Let me guess, you’re 8," Charlie guessed.

"Let me guess," Piper leered, "you don’t know how to shut your mouth. And I’m 17."

"We’re the same age," Charlie added. "And for the record, I don’t."

"I can tell." Piper took a good look at him. He had strong features adorning his face. Each sculpted part of his face framed his eyes. She hated those eyes. Why were they so kind and clear, free from the clouds and dirt that plagued hers? However, what she hated most was his smile. It reached the apples of his cheeks that turned a light pink each time he flashed her that smile. God, it was gross. Disgusting. She hat- Piper shook her head. She was thinking too much about his stupid face and stupid smile.

"So…have you–" Charlie began again before the sound of the backdoor creaked open.

"Just continue following my orders and you’ll be right as rain in no time," a man dressed in a white coat instructed an elderly woman. The two walked down the hallway and to the doors that Piper so desperately wanted to flee out of. "Charlie, who do we have here?" The man asked once the woman had vacated the area.

"Piper," Charlie said, earning a sharp glare from the girl. "She came in with Maria. Says she isn’t sick."

Doctor Watson nodded. His speckled gray hair bobbed up and down, and the wrinkles on his face creased as he turned to look at her. "I see. Piper, if you’ll come with me."

Taking one look at the doctor, Piper shook her head. "No," she stated.

Doctor Watson's eyes softened at her guarded demeanor. "I’m just going to ensure you’re healthy as you say you are."

Piper's eyes flickered to the backroom. In a quiet voice, she asked, "Do I have to go back there?"

Doctor Watson shook his head. "No, but it offers more privacy…I can leave the door open if that is what you prefer."

After a moment of contemplation, Piper agreed and begrudgingly walked to the backroom with the door open all the way.

꧁_꧂

Joel found himself at ease as he sank onto the barstool. His eyes watched as Tommy went behind the counter and pulled out some drinks for the two of them, pouring the liquid and dropping some ice cubes in the alcohol.

"Been a long time," Joel said. "Doesn't seem like you aged much."

"You, on the other hand," Tommy teased as he placed the drink before Joel. "Thanks for still giving a shit about me." Tommy's eyes expectantly watched as Joel raised the glass to his lips. Joel felt his taste buds light a fire with joy. "Workin' on raisin' some hogs, too," Tommy proudly said. "Once we get bacon, I mean, what's even left?"

"Pshoo," Joel laughed. "Christmas trees and bacon? Pretty decent setup."

"So, how's Tess?" Tommy inquired.

The cheerfulness in Joel's expression faltered. "She's fine. All right."

"Good then," Tommy nodded. "And the kids?"

Joel furrowed his brow until he realized Tommy was asking about his girls—the girls. "Oh, yeah," Joel explained, "They’re the daughters of some Firefly muckety-muck. I'm trying to find their family somewhere out here. I was headin' in this direction, so…"

Disbelief filled Tommy's face. "Really? Goodness of your heart?"

"There's a payment," Joel confessed. "So you know where they might be? These Fireflies?"

Tommy shrugged. "Well, they got a base down at the University of Eastern Colorado. It's, uh, a week's ride south. But…" Tommy noted. "It is severely fսckеd up between here and there. Infected… raiders. It's not exactly an easy trip."

"It'll be easy for us," Joel said, "seeing as how you can headshot Infected from half a mile away, which is a bunch of bullshit, by the way." He took another swig of his drink and sighed as the warm touch of the alcohol traveled down his throat and to the rest of his body.

"Yeah," Tommy quietly said. "I can't go."

"Oh, come on," Joel chuckled. "I made it across the country. The two of us can make it from here to Colorado." Tommy's expression hadn't changed. Joel sighed, "What, 'cause your wife won't let you?"

At the mention of Maria, Tommy's expression hardened. "Joel," Tommy warned.

"She the one who kept you off the radio?" Joel accused, and a flash of guilt grew on Tommy's face. "Is that why you stopped messaging me back?"

"After I ditched the Fireflies, Maria and her crew found me," Tommy explained. "They're good people. They didn't have to take me in, but they did. And all they ask is that I follow their rules."

"I'm your brother."

"Yeah, I'm aware," Tommy acknowledged. "They're very protective of this place, and for good fսckin' reason. I mean, folks find out we're up here…"

"No, I heard. Wrong people might show up," Joel retorted. "So, is that what I am? Am I the wrong people?"

"Joel…" Tommy sighed.

The drink in front of Joel had long been forgotten. Years of hurt bubbled up to the surface, too much for the alcohol to soak up. "Those things I did, Tommy," Joel defended, "those things that you judge me for, I did those things to keep us alive."

"We did those things. And they weren't "things," Tommy argued. "We murdered people. And I don't judge you for it. We survived the only way we knew how. But there were other ways. We just weren't any good at 'em."

"If you knew the shit that I've been through, Tommy." Joel's voice began to falter. "Tryin' to find you these last few months…"

"I'm gonna be a father," Tommy blurted, ending Joel's train of thought. "Maria's a few months along now. So I just gotta be more careful." With Joel's silence, Tommy continued. "To be honest, I'm scared to death. But I don't know. Uh… I feel like I'd be a good dad."

The drink in front of him was intoxicating now, so Joel picked it up and drank the rest. "Guess we'll find out."

"I guess we'll find out?" Tommy scoffed. "That's all you got?"

Joel shrugged, "What else am I supposed to say?"

Anger boiled up to the surface at Joel's response. "Just because life stopped for you…," Tommy said, "doesn't mean it has to stop for me."

Joel's teeth ground against each other, and his jaw began to hurt. "We'll grab some supplies and be outta your hair in the mornin'," Joel mumbled before hastily finding his way out of the bar.

꧁_꧂

Piper was indeed sick. She had been battling a cough and headache for days, yet the news stunned her. Her head tuned out the words of Doctor Watson as the realization hit her. She was sick. The doctor mentioned something about the common cold, but that did not matter. Piper was sick. For as long as she could remember she had never gotten sick. She couldn't. Being sick wasn't a choice for Piper, especially not after FEDRA put a gun in her hand. Yet here she was, sitting in Doctor Watson's office, sick.

"…luckily I have the right medication to help you feel better in no time," Doctor Watson continued and handed Piper a bottle of some pills. "You’ll take three of these each day. Take them with meals. And continue to take them until your cough is gone. And stay out of the cold. Any questions?" Piper shook her head, not realizing he was asking her a question. "Good. Another thing is to keep those hands bandaged and clean. You don't want an infection…"

Glancing down at her hands, she gently trailed her fingers over the white bandages. Doctor Watson had noticed the blood and scabs from where her nails had dug into her palms.

Finally, her ears had caught up with the doctor's words. "Wait, actually…"

Doctor Watson gave her his best bedside smile. "Yes?"

"Can I ask something that’s not related to my cough?" Piper wondered.

"Of course," the doctor replied.

"Hypothetically," Piper began, "if someone were immune to the fungus. You know, the one that turns you into an infe–"

The Doctor's brows raised but allowed her to continue. "Infected. Yes, I do," he finished.

Piper frowned, unsure of how to phrase her next words. Finding a satisfactory sequence of words, she asked, "How would someone like you go about making the cure?"

Doctor Watson sighed and rested his head in his wrinkled hand. His forehead creased as his thoughts came to him. "Well, it’s risky," he said after some time. "The fungus infects the brain, and if someone were immune, it would be something in the brain or the central nervous system if you'd rather I'd get technical."

Piper grimaced. "So, not their blood?"

"No," Doctor Watson shook his head. "To even attempt a cure, that person’s brain would have to be removed so one could determine the cause of immunity. Even so, attempting to replicate it in others is nearly impossible with the state of medical technology now."

"Are you saying…they would die, The immune person?" Piper's voice grew quiet as her clarifying question floated around.

"Yes," Doctor Watson answered.

"Oh," Piper's face fell. With the doctor's answer, she no longer cared for her sickness. Instead, she thought of Ellie. She wondered if Ellie knew, which she most likely didn't. Next, she wondered if Marlene knew and knowingly misled the girls. Did Joel and Tess know? Were she and Ellie just being led to their deaths, all in the hope of an impossible cure? Piper's uncertainty was quickly replaced with a determination to tell Ellie. She had to stop her sister, even if it meant breaking her. She had to tell Ellie. She had to keep Ellie alive. She noticed she'd been quiet for too long. "Thanks for the–yeah," Piper blurted.

"No problem." Doctor Watson stood up and walked to the door, motioning for Piper to follow. "Charlie?" He called out.

Charlie popped up in the doorway. His head of frustratingly perfect curls sparkled with golden highlights from the artificial lights. "Yeah?" He said before sending Piper a grin.

"Charlie will show you out," Doctor Watson told Piper. "Take care, Piper."

"Yeah," Piper muttered before following Charlie out into the lobby. She looked around for Ellie's familiar face and Maria's figure. She frowned. They were nowhere to be seen. "Where’s Maria?" She asked Charlie.

"So…Maria’s not here," Charlie said. "Thought I’d show you to her house." He smiled at her and nervously ran his hand through his hair.

Piper watched his hands as they brushed through his curls. Shaking herself out of her insane trance, she declined, "No thanks."

"It’s not far," Charlie explained, "besides, I’d hate it if you got lost."

"I don’t get lost," Piper mentioned, standing up straighter as she marched to the door.

"Just like you don’t get sick?" Charlie chuckled.

With her hand frozen on the door handle, Piper slowly turned around and caught sight of Charlie's smug smile. "Fuck you," Piper growled before opening the door.

"Thanks," Charlie said as he brushed by Piper, strolling out the door. "Come on, Piper."

She was sure her eyes had rolled into the back of her head and were now permanently stuck. "Jesus Christ," she mumbled.

꧁_꧂

It was hard to see anything in the steam-filled bathroom. The place had a plethora of piping hot water, and Ellie decided she'd take full advantage of that, unaware that she'd left barely any for Piper and Joel. The foggy air fled from the bathroom once Ellie had creaked open the door. If she hadn't just taken the longest and hottest shower known to mankind, one might think there had been a fire.

Creeping over to the pink and green blanketed bed, Ellie noticed the new addition of clean clothes and a plastic, gel-like thingy. Her brows creased as she picked up the strange object and quickly noticed a sheet of paper containing instructions. She briefly read the sheet and pulled her lips tight. "Oh! Gross," she mumbled. Placing it down, she picked up the clothes and began to change.

Each item of clothing was free from dirt, grime, bugs, and anything else that the outdoors could taint with. She felt clean and new. She was sure she'd never felt it in her life. All the clothes she'd worn in the QZ were old or covered in dust from the years of sitting once modern civilization had been forgotten. She smiled, felt the soft cloth along her skin, and thought of how much Piper was going to enjoy a hot shower and new clothes. It'd be a dream come true for her older sister's obsession with hygiene.

After changing, Ellie recalled Maria's words and went down the stairs, out the door, and across the street to Tommy and Maria's residence. Raising her fist to knock quietly, Ellie stepped inside the home.

"Hello? Maria?" She called out, looking around for the woman. Her feet took her further into the home. It was nice and…homely, Ellie guessed. She wasn't sure what a home would look like, but Maria and Tommy's setup seemed close enough. There were maintained couches, lamps, tables, and decorations on the mantel. Upon further glance, Ellie noticed a board with names. It read "Kevin and Sarah."

"Oh, good," Maria's voice said from behind Ellie. Turning around, Ellie peered down at Maria's hand. In it was an ugly-ass purple coat and another that was a blinding bright orange. Both colors were atrocious to look at, but Ellie quickly determined the orange was much easier on the eyes. The shade of the purple coat was that of a dark bruise. It made Ellie feel sick just looking at it.

"I just traded for this. Go ahead, try it on," Maria encouraged, handing the purple coat to Ellie.

"It's, uh," Ellie said, trying to hide her grimace. "…super fսckin' purple."

"Eggplant," Maria corrected. Ellie's eyes flashed with confusion at the mention of an eggplant. Whatever it was, it sounded just as gross as the shade of purple. "It fits?" Maria asked.

"Yeah," Ellie shrugged, feeling much warmer than she'd ever been in her old coat.

"Shoes aren't too big?"

Wiggling her toes, Ellie shook her head. "Uh, no. Where's my other stuff?"

"Rag pile," Maria said. "Did you get the thing I left you?"

"Yeah. Weirdest gift ever," Ellie muttered, thinking about the thingy still on the bed.

"But useful," Maria chuckled. She stepped close to Ellie and pointed to her hair. "Who's been cutting your hair?"

"Uh, world-class salons," Ellie sarcastically replied. Maria smiled. "Piper," Ellie confessed. "Piper's always the one who cuts it."

Maria nodded. "Let me get my scissors."

"Oh," Ellie exclaimed. "Whoa, no. I'm…"

"Trim," Maria assured. "That's all. Just the ends, I promise."

Glancing down at her wet hair, Ellie sighed. It would be nice to cut it a bit shorter. Nodding her head, she followed Maria into the dining room and sat down in the chair Maria had presented her.

Expertly weaving her finger through Ellie's hair, Maria began to brush, measure, and cut it. Ellie's scalp tingled as Maria massaged her head, and she couldn't help but close her eyes in contentment. Maybe Piper could learn some tips from Maria.

"Maria?" An unfamiliar voice echoed throughout the home.

Maria stopped brushing through Ellie's hair and peered around. "Charlie!" She called out as the boy from the doctor's office, and Piper stepped into the dining hall.

"You forgot me," Piper muttered.

"Sorry," Maria apologized. I was busy trading for some new clothes for you and your sister." She stepped away from Ellie, retrieved the clothes and orange coat from the table, and handed them over to Piper. "Here. Try this on," she said before turning to Charlie. Thanks again, Charlie."

"No problem, Ma’am," Charlie beamed, and Piper swore, then stood a few inches taller.

"So, are you gonna try them on?" Maria expectantly said.

Piper glanced down at the clothes and coat. "They’ll fit," she said.

Maria looked disbelieving but chose not to say anything. "Right," she nodded. "The house you’re staying in is right across from mine. Find a room, take a shower and come on back over here. I’ll cut your hair too."

"I’ll cut it myself," Piper grumbled.

Maria sighed. "Well, you’ll need scissors." She walked over to the kitchen and opened a drawer, pulling out another pair of scissors. She carefully placed them in Piper's hand.

"Thanks," Piper mumbled before tucking them under her arm with the rest of her clothes.

"I can show you to the house," Charlie proposed.

Piper opened her mouth to refuse, but Maria beat her to it. "Doctor Watson will need you back at the office."

Charlie closed his mouth and bid his goodbye. Piper watched him go, torn between missing his annoying presence and being grateful for Maria's words. Soon, Maria got back to grooming Ellie's hair. Meanwhile, the urge for a shower grew greater than Doctor Watson's answers. So, Piper found herself sneaking over to the house across the street. There was also a later time she could tell Ellie. A better time away from outside listening ears.

꧁_꧂ "So, this was, like, your job back then or something?" Ellie wondered as Maria snipped away at her hair. It must have been with how deftly Maria navigated Ellie's head of hair.

"No," Maria said. "I was an Assistant District Attorney out of Omaha, Nebraska. I put bad guys in jail."

"Oh… Cool," Ellie replied. "I guess."

"I always liked doing hair, though," Maria continued. "Maybe it was a mom thing. You were looking at the little memorial Tommy made?"

"Uh, yeah." Ellie peeked over at Maria, who gently directed her head back down. "I'm-I'm sorry about your kids."

"It's okay. And kid," Maria corrected. "Just Kevin. Sarah was Joel's daughter." Maria felt Ellie's shoulders stiffen. "Oh, maybe I shouldn't have said anything."

"No," Ellie shook her head. "It's okay. I guess that explains him a little."

Satisfied with the trim she had given Ellie, Maria set the scissors down and leaned against the table across from Ellie. "Look, I'm not gonna ask you what you're doing with him."

"Good," Ellie replied. Her voice grew stiff.

"But there are clearly things you don't know about Joel," Maria noted.

"Oh," Ellie said, connecting the dots Maria had left for her. "…like how he used to kill people? I know about that."

"So then you understand my concern."

Ellie shook her head. "He doesn't do that anymore."

"He stopped killing people?" Maria raised her brow, unconvinced.

"Innocent ones," Ellie corrected. "And Tommy did it, too. Are you worried about him?"

"Tommy was following Joel," Maria explained. "The way you and your sister are now."

"Well," Ellie scoffed, "maybe Piper and I are smarter than Tommy. No offense."

"You are definitely smart. Would've made a hell of a lawyer," Maria chuckled. "There's a whole lot you're not telling me. Good. Therein lies the point. Be careful who you put your faith in. The only people who can betray us… are the ones we trust. You understand?"

"Mm-hmm," Ellie nodded.

"Now, come on." Maria stood up. "Grab your super fսckin' eggplant coat."

Ellie shrugged on the coat. "Where are we going?"

"The movies," Maria replied before strolling out the front door, expecting Ellie to follow.

꧁_꧂

Piper noted that the house had just enough bedrooms for Ellie and her and too many bathrooms. There were four, one in each of the bedrooms and another, which she assumed was the communal one.

She'd found a bedroom with ease. Ellie had already staked her claim in one of the upstairs rooms by sprawling her bag on the floor next to the bed. One of the others contained a large bed, much too big for Piper to find any comfort in. She left that one to Joel and instead took up the bedroom on the ground floor.

The walls were painted light blue, and the sheets had various small flower designs adorning them. The bed was small, something she was happy about. She preferred small beds. She wasn't sure why, but she did. The less space things took up, the better.

After finding her room, she entered the bathroom and started up her shower. The water was warm against the cooler air of the bathroom. It did not take long for steam to collect in the air. Stepping underneath the water, Piper watched as months of dirt washed down the drain. At first, the water turned a shade of dark brown, and for a moment, Piper thought it stained the white porcelain of the tub. After a few minutes, the water turned clear again, and Piper began to scrub.

She scrubbed her hair, letting strands trickle down the drain. Her hands, all soaped up, scrubbed her skin until it grew raw and pink. Next were her nail beds, which Piper had determined were the cleanest part of her due to the care Doctor Watson had shown her. Trailing her hands over the soggy bandages, she was glad the Doctor had given her extra. She'd have to rebandage them once her shower was over.

Once she was satisfied with her cleanliness, Piper switched off the water and stepped out. After drying and rebandaging her hand, she wiped away the condensation on the mirror. She didn't spend much time admiring her clean figure and instead looked at her hair. Even washed, it seemed all tangled up. Maybe Maria was right. She really did need a haircut. Carefully, she brushed her fingers through her hair, releasing most of the knots.

Picking up the scissors, Piper stared at her reflection. Her hair was thick and long. Perfect for keeping the nipping cold at bay. She knew she'd have to brave the cold once again and a haircut would not do her any good. Confirming her decision, Piper placed down the scissors and replaced them with the pills Doctor Watson had given her. She swallowed, glanced at her reflection, and left the bathroom.

The new clothes and coat trapped the warmth of the shower against Piper's skin. In the pockets of the coat she found a new hat, gloves, and cup thingy. She frowned as she squished it until recognition filled her face. Placing the period cup in her bag, Piper made her way out of the house and to Maria's. Except Maria wasn't there and neither was Ellie.

"Forgotten again," Piper mumbled to herself. Then she noticed a note on the dining room table.

"We are at the movies. Just take a left and the end of the road and then go straight - Maria"

"Movies," Piper repeated as she crumpled up the note. "Of course, they have movies."

꧁_꧂

The bell above the door chimed, and a burst of cold air filled the room. Joel groaned as the tool in his hand slipped and fell to the floor. His hands were shaking too much to fix his leather boots, which were falling apart at the seams. Not bothering to look up at the guest, Joel placed his head in his hands.

"The guys said I might find you here," Tommy announced before plopping new boots on the table in front of Joel. "Figured I'd save you the trouble."

Joel glanced up at the boots and then at his brother.

"I shouldn't have said what I said," Tommy apologized.

"I don't even believe it," Joel muttered.

"I know you're happy for me. It just…," Tommy trailed off, trying to find the right words. "It's complicated for you… and I'm sorry."

Joel sighed and placed on the new pair of boots. They fit like a glove. "So you're gonna let me off the hook, or what?" Tommy shook his head and leaned against a nearby table. "This ride to the University, is it a suicide mission?" Joel pondered.

"No," Tommy replied. "It's dangerous, but it's nothin' you can't handle. Just prepare and do what you do."

"You've had people go that way and come back?" Joel asked, taking in Tommy's advice.

"All of 'em," Tommy answered. He watched as his brother grew quiet. "What is this?" Tommy asked.

Joel was eerily quiet before answering. "They're immune," he confessed.

"What?" Tommy's brows creased in confusion.

"Ellie and Piper," Joel clarified. "They got infected but didn't get sick. And Piper… the infected just ignore her." Tommy stepped back in disbelief. "Tommy," Joel continued. "Tommy, I saw Piper get bit myself. I saw what the infected did. That was months ago. Months. She's immune."

Tommy peered deep into Joel's eyes and saw the truth of sincerity. Quickly checking the door, Tommy stepped closer to Joel. "From the beginning," Tommy asked.

Joel took in a deep breath of air before beginning. "It was Marlene. She hired us to smuggle the girls to some Fireflies. It went bad. Tess got bit. She made me swear to take the kids. It was her dying wish," Joel's voice cracked. "What the hell was I supposed to do? We made it as far as K.C., and then… You know, they saved my life there… from another kid."

Running his fingers over the calluses on his hands, Joel continued. "Five years ago, I would've destroyed him. But Piper had to shoot him to save me. 17 years old. Because I was too slow and too fսck¡n' deaf to hear him comin'. And I saw… I saw a man kill his own brother… to save Ellie while I just watched."

With each word spilling from his mouth, Joel found his strength disappearing. His eyes blurred, and he felt his cheeks grow wet. This was a weakness. He was weak, and he knew it. "And today, I thought that dog was gonna tear the girls apart because it smelled somethin' on them. And all I did was stand there. I couldn't… move. I couldn't think of anything to say. I just… I was so afraid."

"You think I can still handle things, but… I'm not who I was,: Joel admitted and he felt a weight come off his chest. So long he'd been standing tall. For so long, he kept going, kept looking for Tommy. Now that he'd found his brother, Joel didn't know what to do. "I'm weak. Lately, there are these moments where the fear comes up outta nowhere, and… my heart… feels like it's stopped. And I have dreams. Every night."

"What kinda dreams?" Tommy interjected.

Joel grabbed the side of his head. "I don't know. I can't remember. I just know that when I wake up… I've lost somethin','' he sobbed. "I'm failin' in my sleep. That's all I do. It's all I've ever done is fail them again and again."

Tommy's expression softened as the puzzle of Joel's words came together. "You want me to take the girls," Tommy concluded.

Joel couldn't help but nod as the tears rolled down his face. "I'm just gonna get them killed. I know it. I have to leave them."

"Joel…"Tommy tried to comfort him.

"I mean, it's why you took off on me, right? To make up for the things we did?" Joel said. "Well, here's your chance to bring your kid into a better world. You're younger than me. You're still strong. You said it yourself: you'll come back. You have to take them." Joel sniffled and wiped his cheeks; his pleading exchanged for something more protective. Joel admitted to his brother the truth and discovered a truth of his own. He cared for the girls. They were his girls, whether he liked it or not. It just happened, and he knew he'd die if anything befell them. His heart would be torn into shreds if he couldn't save them, just like he couldn't save Sarah. He knew now why he wanted to refuse Piper's wish, why he didn't want Ellie to pick up a gun, and why he hated hearing about what his girls had gone through. Joel was a father through and through, and Piper and Ellie were not his girls.

"And you can't tell anyone, not even Maria. Tommy, you're the only one I trust," Joel begged. "If anyone else sees those bites on her, what's under her skin… they'll shoot her. It's the last thing I'll ever ask of you. I swear."

Tommy was quiet for a moment before answering. The words that came out of his mouth only relieved Joel. "I'll take them out at dawn. We got you in 38. It's left, left, right."

꧁_꧂

Speckles of white in Piper's hair sparkled under the yellow street lights. She'd left her hair down. The feeling was foreign to her but freeing. Maybe in the future, she'd continue to keep her hair down.

Smiling, she looked down at the snow; her new boots repelled the water and cold. It was a nice change from the leaky shoes she had worn before.

The sound of snow crunching doubled, and Piper looked up. She saw her sister, head hung low, marching towards her.

"Els," Piper called out. Ellie kept walking. "Do you know where the movie is?"

Ellie brushed past her sister, pausing long enough to answer her. "Movie sucks ass," Ellie mumbled.

Piper stopped and turned around. "Hey, is everything-"

"I'm fine," Ellie hissed. "What happened to your hands?"

Piper looked down, "Nothing, scraped them that's all. The doctor was nice enough to bandage them up."

"You sick?" Ellie asked.

Piper was sure that the snow was falling harder now. She shivered. "Yeah…just a cold, though, nothing too bad." Ellie nodded. Speaking of the doctor, I asked about the…" Piper paused, unsure of how to say it. "Ellie, it's not going to work."

Ellie looked up and frowned. "What's not gonna work?" Piper only responded in silence, and from the look on her sister's face, Ellie knew what Piper was going to say. "No. It'll fucking work."

"Els," Piper pleaded.

"No!" Ellie bellowed, shoving Piper's shoulders.

Piper gasped, "Els, listen to me. I asked the doct-"

Ellie's face scrunched up, and her ears rang as a mantra of no repeated in her mind. The next thing she knew, her fist had found its way into Piper's face. Anger and hurt flooded from her soul down her fist and implanted itself onto Piper's body. Too much had been stolen from the girl, and she wasn't going to let Piper take anything else. She wasn't going to let the one thing keeping her going disappear from view. She had to save everyone. She had to get rid of the fungus that had robbed her of a future and the world of anything good. First, her mom, then Riley, Tess, Henry, and Sam. Soon, Joel was going to leave, too. She had heard him beg his brother, and now Piper was going to take away her objective.

With each punch, Ellie found her drive even more controlling. Her fear, anger, and pain took over and governed her actions. It was as if she couldn't hear her sister's pleas or feel the blood trickling down Piper's face and spilling into the snow, tainting it a vibrant red.

"Ellie!" Piper coughed, spitting out blood onto the snow.

Ellie froze. Her chest heaved up and down. The snowing made everything too blurry, or maybe it was the tears escaping Ellie's eyes. Her hands burned from the warmth of Piper's blood and the fog of her mind faded.

Scrambling to stand, Ellie took one look at her sister in the snow. Piper lay on her side in the snow. Wheezing coughs escaped her lungs as blood from her nose and mouth pooled on the snow, melting it. Bruises had already started to form on Piper's skin, turning shades of blue and purple. The same purple of Ellie's coat.

Seeing her sister's pain, Ellie was overcome with guilt. Her heart pounded, and her breath stilled. All she could do was watch or run away, so she did. She ran deep into the snow storm and back to the ghost of a home she was staying in.

By the time the footsteps of Ellie's boots had been erased by the storm, Piper still hadn't moved. She was freezing, bleeding, and in pain. However, it wasn't the pain of the physical wounds Ellie had given her that hurt. Ellie had left. She had hurt Ellie, even if the full truth hadn't been revealed. She had ripped the band-aid off too soon and the wound had grown infected.

As Piper lay in the snow, she grew numb to the cold and the pain. In fact, she welcomed it. She'd been living for Ellie, protecting her, watching over her. After all, it was her and Ellie until the end. She'd said that phrase so many times that the irony scalded her soul. Ellie was marching to the end. An end to save an imaginary world in her head. An end that Piper knew she'd follow her sister into. If Ellie was going to walk into the arms of death, so would Piper. No matter how much she desired to live. No matter how much she didn't want to leave Joel. Nothing mattered when her sister was on the line. Piper had made a promise, and she was going to keep it. Even if it meant dying for a cause she no longer believed in. Even if it meant she had to give up her real dream: the home with Joel and Ellie. The smile on her sister's face, the warmth of Joel's protective hug. The dream of a family.

"Piper?" a distorted voice asked, and soon, a weight was placed on her shoulder. It was Charlie. He was leaning over her now. Looking up, Piper noticed a crowd. People had circled around her, and their whispers thundered in her head.

"Piper, what happened?" Charlie asked. The concern and worry in his voice was apparent.

Piper didn't need his concern. She didn't want it. After all, what good was a stranger's concern if you knew you were going to die? If you knew you were going to lose everything. If you knew you'd be alone.

Smacking away Charlie's hand and pushing him into the snow, Piper stood up and wiped away the blood. She ignored Charlie's pleas and the gasps of the townspeople. Fuck them, Piper thought as she marched through the storm and into the darkness after her sister.

Wherever Ellie went, so did Piper.

꧁_꧂

The house was quiet. If it weren't for the light that trickled out of Ellie's room, Joel would have thought the home was empty. The wooden stairs creaked as Joel trudged up them. His feet carried him as far as the door before he stopped. His hand inches away from knocking.

"Ellie?" Joel called out. There was no response, so he gently pushed the door open and found Ellie sitting on the windowsill. A journal in her hands.

"Is this really all they had to worry about?" Ellie asked. "Boys. Movies. Deciding which shirt goes with which skirt. It's bizarre."

Joel shoved his hands into his pockets and stepped closer, fumbling with his feet. "Listen, um…"

"Why are you here?"

"I came here to talk to you," Joel replied, confused by Ellie's harsh tone of voice.

"No, why are you still here? If you're gonna ditch me, ditch me," Ellie spat and glared at the man.

Joel sighed and felt his lips form into a frown. "What exactly did you hear?"

"I have to leave her. You have to take her," Ellie mocked Joel's deep voice. "You know, I stood up for you today because I thought…" Hurt echoed in her words, and Ellie turned away, trying to fight back tears. Everyone was leaving her.

"I made this decision for your own good," Joel stated.

"Just like Piper?" Ellie muttered with clenched fists. Her hands still burned from her sister's blood.

Joel shook his head, unsure of what Ellie meant. "You'll be way better off with Tommy." "You and Piper," Joel clarified. "Tommy knows the area better than I do…"

Finally turning to face Joel again, Ellie raged, "Do you give a shit about me or not?"

"Of course," Joel defended, and Ellie scoffed. "I do."

"Then what are you so afraid of? I'm not her, you know? Maria told me about Sarah and…" Ellie was cut off.

"Don't," Joel growled. His face hardened, and through clenched teeth, he spoke, "Don't say another word."

Throwing the journal to the side, Ellie stood up. "I-I'm sorry about your daughter, Joel," Ellie said. "But I have lost people, too."

Joel rolled his eyes and stepped back. Hurt flashed in Ellie's eyes. "You have no idea what loss is," Joel stated.

"Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me," Ellie fumed. Her voice grew louder and louder. "Everybody, fսcking except for you and Pi–!" She cut herself short. Joel was leaving, and she had pushed Piper away. There was no way her sister…Ellie bit her lip. She was alone. She was always cursed to be alone. "So don't tell me that I'd be safer with somebody else because the truth is I would just be more scared."

Joel's expression hardened at Ellie's tears. His heart hurt from seeing her tears and hearing her pleas. Right then and there he wanted to tell her he'd change his mind. Say that he'd take them, but he couldn't. Joel was weak. Ellie and Piper made them weak. This was for the best. He was doing this for them.

"You're right. You're not my daughter," Joel growled. "And I sure as hell ain't your dad. Now, come dawn… we're goin' our separate ways."

Ellie scowled and fell back down on the bed. She hugged her legs in close and turned away from Joel, burying her head in between her knees. "Good luck telling Piper that."

The door creaked behind them, and then Joel heard it. It was the sound of Piper running away. He pinched the sides of his nose and walked out of Ellie's room. This was for the best. As long as he kept telling himself that maybe this whole thing would become a bit easier. He just had to tell Piper, and his pain would be over. His weaknesses would be gone.

At least it would be if he could find Piper. He scoured the entire house: every single room, bathroom, in the dark corners, underneath the furniture. Piper was gone. His heart tightened in his chest until he heard her cough. It was coming from the porch. Piper was outside in the cold.

Joel didn't care how the cold bit at his skin when he saw Piper huddled in the corner. Her body trembled, fighting off the cold. She looked so small compared to how tall she stood. Her once-strong persona crumbled underneath Joel's gaze. Piper was just a kid in a big, scary world. And no matter how long Joel stood staring at her, he couldn't find any words of assurance.

"Don’t leave," Piper whimpered. Given how quiet she had been, Joel wasn't even sure he heard it correctly, so he stood there and watched.

"Please don’t leave," she said a bit louder.

"Look, kid," Joel sighed, stepping closer to her. His heart broke when he saw her tear-stained face peering up at him.

"No, Joel, you listen to me," she pleaded as she reached out to him before pulling back. Her hands turned white as she clung to herself. There was no one else. Ellie was leaving, and so was Joel. Piper was utterly alone. "I got sick and–I never get sick. I never let myself get sick. I couldn’t get–Please don’t leave." Her voice struggled to keep still as the trembles of a lifetime of loss, hurt, and fear overcame her.

"Let’s get you inside," Joel gently suggested as he watched her shiver. His hands unconsciously reached out to hold her, but she pulled back and shook her head.

"No. No, Joel, you’re not listening," she said.

"Piper, I can’t."

Piper sobbed. "Joel, please. I can’t lose you too. I already lost El–everyone. I’ve been fighting for so long I don’t remember what it's like to be safe, but I’m safe with you." Piper peered up at Joel. His eyes were cold. Piper searched and couldn't salvage the safe haven she had found in them before. "I–Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave me," she begged for the last time as her voice failed her.

He had to do it. He was doing it for her, for her and Ellie. It was for the best. Joel repeated these lies over and over until he found enough false strength to turn away. "You should go inside and get some sleep," he suggested with his voice void of emotion. Tommy will take you in the morning." Then he opened the door and left the shell of a young girl to freeze in the cold.

By the time Piper stood up and crawled back inside, she couldn't feel anything. She couldn't feel her hair falling to the ground as she cut it off. All she could hear was the roaring scissors snip as her hair grew shorter inch by inch. She was losing everything: her sister, her purpose, her home, her family, her dream, and Joel. With each cut of the scissors, she felt her pain dull more and more until there was no more hair to cut.

Her beautiful dark hair clung to the sink and bathroom floor. In the middle stood Piper. Her skin was a bright red as heat seeped back under her skin. Dried blood stuck to her skin and clothes. Her bandages were frozen from the cold. She'd have to change them again, but that was for later. All she could do was stand and stare at the ghost she saw in the mirror.

꧁_____________꧂ 

Previous | Next

Comment or reblog if you enjoyed! I’d love to hear from y’all!

Comment below if you'd like to be added to the tag list! (Please let me know if I forgot to add you, I get lots of requests and sometimes forget to add people)

Tag List:

@angelmenace

@mimi-luvzyu

@d4rno

@lizlil 

@winterschildren17

@bartokthealbinobat

@sunsumonner 

@lovelyygirl8

@homeslices

@guacala 

@emsownuniverse

@thetiredtoad0-0

@galacticstxrdust 

@jackierose902109

@stilllivindue2spite

@cowboypascal

@opalmanic

@kitdjarin1

@auggiesolovey

@soldierheart

@opalmanic

@mattmurdocksstarlight

@elegantfacetree

@pookiesmookie69

@scoliobean

@millie-mei

@kodzuvk

@graciesbow

@cozyphine

@celsmsowb

@your-shifting-gurl

@lol6cats

@severussimp

@lainekyuu

@rannifer

@hayleythecannibal

@luvr4miya

@opalmanic

@gojosatorubedframe

@lolly145

@hayleythecannibal

@luvr4miya

꧁_____________꧂ 

[not-poignant]

Stupid question, but I remembered seeing you mention having monthly minimum wordcounts on one of your previous posts and I wanted to ask if you're a professional writer? Because at first I was like "that sounds so stressful"* and then I realized that it makes a lot more sense if you're doing it for a living.

*Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.

I am a professional writer!

My original serials are my job, basically, and they're supported by generous folks at Patreon and Ream. That, in turn, allows me to do this in a more professional and focused way, vs. say just as a hobbyist who doesn't update for 9 months at a time. It also lets me share my works for free, in a fandom friendly manner, which lets me keep doing something I love in a way I love to do it, but in a way which is like...I guess more reliable than you'd necessarily be if you were only doing it for fun.

I can instead pledge high fidelity/loyalty to my main serials through thick and thin (hence my wild author's notes), which means folks following WIPs get to know they'll be finished, and I get to enjoy doing this for a living! It's hard, but it's a good hard. Except for taxes.

As for my monthly minimum, that actually started as a way to break out of the very ableist 'you should write every day' (as a professional writer) which is literally impossible for me and my chronic illnesses. I sometimes have big chunks of time where I can't write, sometimes weeks! And where it would be unhealthy for me to make myself.

(More about my writing process beneath the Read More!)

Alongside that, I have quite severe dyscalculia (think dyslexia but with numbers and directions and left and right lol) so I can't keep a 'running wordcount' because the numbers confuse me too much. Luckily, because my writing life is defined by chapters completed (and not novels), I count the wordcount of every finished chapter only. Unfinished chapters don't count! My growing wordcount per month grows only when that draft is finished (my drafts are clean, so chapters only tend to grow or shrink by about 100-150 words per edit, so give or take it all evens out).

It's not how any other author I know does it, but it works so well for me that I've been doing it for nearly a decade now.

I started the monthly minimum (which currently is 25k words per month) because I tend towards being a workaholic, and so my therapist and I established a minimum not as an unreachable goal that's hard to meet, but as an easy goal that's generally effortless for me to reach in good months, and average months, and even many bad ones. After I hit 25k words per month, if I crash, feel burnt out, feel awful, or life gets Life-y in a bad way, I have permission to stop writing. I can just stop. Everything else is gravy. (Though secretly I always want to hit 30-35k but shhh).

When I hit 50k words, I also have to stop immediately and take a mandatory 3-5 day break from writing even if I want to keep writing. Because I don't know it yet, but I'm probably exhausted on at least some level, lol.

I didn't hit 50k at all last year and there is at least one therapist who would be really proud of me about that even though I feel kind of guilty about it, lol.

Here's an example of my tracking:

You can see the chapters I've written, which dates I've written them. They're colour coded, so I can see at a glance if I'm writing enough of a story or not. And then on the far right is an addition of every month's wordcount.

April was so low because I took an intentional writing holiday (which I'll be doing again ideally in March this year). December was so low because December sucks.

And then I erase it all at the end of the year and start again. The blank whiteboard is actually very motivating to write that first chapter because I always feel like I haven't done anything until then.

This whiteboard is two feet away from where I write quite literally, and is never moved etc. so I have a yearly tracker basically that's extremely visible (super helpful to my ADHD brain, because if I put this in a spreadsheet I'll stop updating it after 3 weeks and then forget it exists). The colour coding gives me dopamine, so does adding chapters.

Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.

This is true! This is actually the least stressful way of doing things for me.

That being said, anon, it's still super stressful. Being a serial writer is one of the most stressful things you do, because you have constant and never-ending deadlines for years. Novelists can kind of escape this, in a way, because they can't release novels as often as I release chapters. But I have to be mentally switched on at least 8 times a month, re: putting work out there, making sure it's at least semi-polished, making sure I let everyone know, and tracking responses because obviously, unlike a novel, if you lose interest you can't just "skip ahead" you simply lose your readers. A lot of novelists couldn't live or work this way, a) because they couldn't write a hooky serial and b) because many realise that having to update all the time is really exhausting actually. There's a kind of social labour to updating a serial, and getting it Right every single time. One of my greatest fears that I have nightmares about

Serial writing is the most stressful kind of writing I've ever done (and I've done a few different kinds), I just happen to like the adrenaline rush of this kind of writing, and I happen to work well under a controlled level of stress! I know that, because I've been doing this for over 10 years, refining it, figuring out how to make it healthier (it was really unhealthy at first), getting better at it, figuring out my weak points (some of them are still weak points) etc. I actually think I'm pretty good at it now!

I'm also getting better at not thinking my entire career is over if I take 2 weeks off.

I went from being entirely dependent on a Disability Pension, and like, sometimes having to skip meals and doctor's appointments and even medication due to money issues (the Disability Pension is ironically not enough if you have mental health issues because our subsidised healthcare doesn't cover mental health adequately and Australia has no food stamps system), to being able to live a bit more freely and support my chronic health stuff a bit more because of writing this way!

For the first time ever through these stories I was able to afford a psychiatrist, and a few other things I really desperately have needed since I was a teenager. So being able to write like this, even when it's really hard and I'm really tired, feels still like a miracle to me. I've never been well or healthy enough to work a full-time job with typical 9-5 hours, and always kind of was stuck imagining a life where I'm just...never knowing how to afford certain things, to being in a position where I'm fairly confident I can get my meds every month, or pay for my dog's pet food, etc. It's really nice.

But yeah honestly serial writing is the most stressful form of serial writing there is as soon as you lock it in as a professional job where you must meet nearly 10 deadlines every month and you happen to have pretty intense ADHD so deadlines make you scream a little.

Sometimes what is extremely stressful and sometimes even distressing for someone is also extremely productive and rewarding for them too. We probably wouldn't have a lot of emergency surgeons if that were the bar for how we decide what we do!