#thank you eli for getting that stuck in my head

[teddypickrwritings]

Hi friend! I read your 'A Rare Moment of Weakness' writing and I thought it was really well written and I really liked it. I was wondering if I could request the same thing but with Joseph, Aesop, and Eli? Only if you have time ofc :)

A Rare Moment of Weakness (Part 2) - Identity V x Reader

A/N: I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. I hope you’re able to enjoy it still. Thank you for requesting! I’ll definitely do more parts of these in the future!

Joseph (Photographer)

For someone that was clearly sentimental about his past, Joseph never openly talked about it. A melancholy smile would appear on his face for a brief moment whenever he remembered something particular, but it would be gone before anyone could comment on it.

Even around you, he was like that…until one evening where you caught him looking visibly depressed. The photographer was sitting on an armchair, cheek resting on his hand, a glass of wine in the other.

“Joseph?” you tentatively called out to him.

He immediately straightened his posture when he heard your voice. “Ah, (Y/N). Don’t sneak up on me like that,” he scolded gently. “It’s late, my dear. Why are you up?”

You sat in the adjacent chair. “Why are you?” you countered.

A hint of a smile appeared on Joseph’s face, but he turned away. “I’m just thinking,” he said vaguely.

Even though Joseph was a private person, you knew what he was really thinking about. He had allowed himself to be vulnerable to you once before in a strangely similar scene.

So you did what you did before. You reached across and placed your warm hand on top of his. When your eyes met, you smiled at him.

Joseph’s face softened. It was funny how he seemed a little awkward and unsure of what to do next for a moment. But then he intertwined his hand with yours and was rewarded with a comforting squeeze. “Perhaps I’ve been thinking too much,” he admitted.

“I’m all ears if you’d like to talk about it,” you offered. “Or if not…well, I’ll be here anyway.”

Joseph smiled, and lifted your hand to give it a gentle kiss of appreciation.

Aesop (Embalmer)

Aesop was always very particular about his appearance. But it wasn’t in a vain way; he was just very adamant about his clothes being clean and ironed properly. He was the same way about his workspace and his tools.

However, his calm disposition was broken when messes were involved. And it was no different when he practically barged into his own room, wax stuck to his clothes and hair, looking absolutely horrified. You had been quietly waiting for him to get back from his match until that point. It was painfully obvious who he went up against. Once the initial shock and your heartbeat settled, you quickly helped clean off the wax to the best of your ability.

“Thank you,” Aesop said quietly and courteously once you were done. His gray eyes widened in surprise as you procured a fresh set of clothes for him before he could make another move. “Ah, uh…thank you again…”

“I’ll be waiting right here,” you reminded him gently, and nodded your head towards his washroom. “You should wash that wax out of your hair.”

You were certain that Aesop had a faint smile underneath his mask from the way his eyes slightly crinkled. And once he was done showering, that smile grew as he came out in freshly dressed clothes and saw that you had fallen asleep waiting for him. How beautiful you looked, peaceful and still like that…

Eli (Seer)

Brooke Rose happily nuzzled against your hand as you pet her soft feathers. You had just given her a treat; her and Eli had done a wonderful job in today’s matches.

Eli watched with a content smile. But you noticed in your peripheral vision that his shoulders were slightly curled forward. And as he took off his blindfold, you noticed that his movements were very sluggish.

“Are you okay?” you asked, looking over into his ethereal blue eyes.

He seemed a bit surprised that you acknowledged him. Then his cheeks went red from the embarrassment of being caught staring. “Yes, I’m okay…why?”

Brooke Rose ruffled her feathers in disbelief. You stood up and gestured him to sit down on the armchair. Slightly confused, he obeyed. A small gasp left his lips as you started gently massaging his shoulders.

“Don’t think that I don’t notice how exhausted you usually are after matches,” you said softly. His muscles were stiff from overuse. “You tire out so quickly. Your decoding has even gotten slower every time you protect someone…”

Eli either didn’t have the energy to retaliate, or he was already slipping into the hands—your hands—of relaxation. He closed his eyes as Brooke Rose settled comfortably on his arm.

You took the opportunity to lean down and press a kiss on top of his head. Although you couldn’t quite see his expression, you knew that it had turned into a bashful smile.

[the-holy-ghosted]

i will continue to enable you actually. next top 5 john lynch images :3

I forgot this was in my inbox but hey better late than never

[wileys-russo]

show and tell II a.putellas (before the void blurb)

part of the filling the void universe show and tell II a.putellas (before the void blurb)

"too tight!" you whined as alba ran a brush through your hair and started to braid. "fresa you just told me to do it tighter." your sister sighed, fingers letting go of your hair as you huffed. "sí tighter but not too tight." you replied in a duh tone with a roll of your eyes.

"vale, new plan." alba glanced at the clock knowing she needed to get herself ready for school soon. "but i wanted-" you started to complain feeling her scrape your hair up into two buns atop your head.

"sí but because you are being difficult hermanita, this is what you get instead." alba finished, tying off the second bun and nodding her approval. "you still look very cute for your big day." she kissed your cheek as you pulled a face and wiped it off.

"gross." you grumbled as your sister grinned, you were still a very affectionate kid but you were currently in a phase of detesting kisses, though the youngest in a spanish family that never went your way.

"its not a big day! its just show and tell." you argued, more for your own self soothing than hers. "lo sé, but its still okay to be nervous." your sister sat down on your bed next to you.

"remember what we talked about when you feel nervous fres?" alba asked gently and you nodded, pushing yourself off the bed and moving to your drawers.

"can you help me please?" you held up the bracelet she'd given you as alba smiled, lifting it off your palm and wrapping it around your wrist, tying it securely and kissing the braided material.

"when i have this on, i can't be nervous." you echoed her own words she'd spoken to you time and time again as alba hummed her agreement.

"exactamente, and do you want to know a secret pequeña?" you perked up at that and nodded eagerly. "alexia is more nervous than you are anyway." alba whispered and you let out a laugh as she scooped you up and tossed you over her shoulder.

"why?" you chirped as the two of you exited your room. "because besides you she's scared of all the little niños and niñas in your class." alba answered, dropping you into a chair at the dining room table.

"she is not!" you argued as your sister kissed your mami's cheek good morning and gladly accepted the cup of coffee offered her way. "is too, she told me last night." alba shrugged, making herself breakfast.

"no she's not scared of anything, thats what she told me!" you argued, standing up on the dining room chair and ignoring the disapproving click of eli's tongue and firm look as you did so.

"well she is lying to you then hermana, vergüenza." alba shook her head with a sigh as eli nudged her with an elbow and a look to which the teenager only rolled her eyes.

"bon dia!" your face scrunched up in disgust as alexia tilted your head back and kissed your forehead good morning, picking you up under your arms and dropping you to be sat down in the chair again.

"did you lie to me?" you accused with a scowl, using the collar of your shirt to wipe the kiss from your forehead as alba sat across from you to eat her breakfast.

"qué? no?" the older girl looked at you puzzled as you glared back at her. "alba said that you said that you are scared of my class." you parroted, crossing your arms as eli placed down a bowl of cereal in front of you.

"why don't you wipe hers off!" alba scoffed as eli kissed your cheek a few times and you kissed hers back in thanks. "cause mami isn't gross." you shrugged, shoveling a mouthful of cereal in as alba rolled her eyes for what felt like the tenth time in an hour.

"i am not scared of your classmates nena, alba is lying." alexia clarified, chopping up some fruit in the kitchen. "told you!" you stuck your tongue out at the older girl across from you who flicked a piece of granola at you in response.

"fresa!" you paused where you had a spoonful of cereal ready to fling in your sisters direction, eli raising an eyebrow daring you to continue as you sighed and pushed it into your mouth instead, ducking as another piece of granola was launched at you with a smirk.

"leave the baby alone!" alba whined as alexia's hand connected with the back of her head making you giggle, eyes lighting up spying the bowl of strawberries in your sisters other hand.

"nope, gotta pay for them first pequeña. beso!" alexia sat down and tapped her cheek as you let out a sigh but did as she wanted, leaning over and pecking her cheek as your sister slid the bowl toward you.

"mine!" you smacked away alba's hand which reached for a strawberry, hugging the bowl possessively making alexia chuckle. "you need breakfast too ale, mami says its important!" you reminded your eldest sister who didn't appear to be eating anything.

"sí, lo es. i already ate though fres, i am ready to go when you finish." alexia explained as you gave her a strange look. "you can't wear that!" you pointed to her as she frowned and looked down at herself.

"why not? this is what i always wear when i take you to school." "because you're my show and tell! you have to wear your barça shirt." you groaned, sliding out of your chair.

"i'll go get it." you assured your sister, pausing for a moment before climbing back up and grabbing your bowl of strawberries, sticking your tongue out at alba and jumping back down to the ground racing off toward alexia's room.

"fresa if you get your dirty little strawberry hands on anything in my room-" "i won't!"

~

"walk faster ale we're gonna be late!" you grunted as you pulled at your sisters hand, annoyed it didn't make her budge in the slightest. "relájese hermana, the bell just went." alexia chuckled, purposefully walking a little slower as you groaned.

"i have to take you to the office to sign in and then go to class!" you reminded as your sister smiled and stopped, squatting down. "fresa i know where the office is. i can take myself and you will go to class, and i will be there soon. vale?" alexia spoke gently, a hand on your shoulder as you hesitated.

"look your friends are waiting nena, and you don't want them to be late do you?" alexia waved to the small group hovering a few feet away over your shoulder as you shook your head.

"woah! i will see you in like ten minutes fres." alexia laughed almost losing her balance as you launched at her in a tight hug, squeezing you momentarily and letting go.

"promise?" you asked, holding up your pinky hopefully. "i promise." your sister assured, linking her pinky with yours for a second before adjusting your backpack on your shoulders.

"fresa what do you have in this? it is never this heavy." alexia frowned with concern jostling your backpack as you quickly stepped back away from her.

"nothing! go to the office!" you sprinted away to catch up with your friends as the older girl rolled her eyes in amusement, standing up and doing just that to go sign herself in.

~

"-and now its fresas week for show and tell. i understand you brought a special guest niña?" your teacher smiled once your class had all gathered together cross legged on the floor as you nodded eagerly.

a light chatter broke out among your peers at that as you ducked out of the classroom, taking alexia off guard as you grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet, yanking her inside with you as the room fell silent.

"this is mi hermana, alexia!" you introduced her as your sister smiled very awkwardly and raised her hand in a small wave, twenty four sets of unfamiliar eyes staring back at her.

"alexia is a footballer and she plays for barcelona and she also plays for españa!" you explained, pausing for a moment to grab your backpack from your cubby.

"alexia has played football for longer than i have been alive, and she is very very very very good!" you recounted, turning your backpack upside down as an array of items tumbled out, alexia now realising why your backpack was so heavy.

"she has won a lot of trophies, and she wears a lot of cool shirts!" you crouched down and lined up several of alexia's medals and trophies through the years, as well as smoothing out a few of her jerseys you'd had bundled up.

your classmates all made a collective oooh and shuffled forward to inspect everything, your teacher nodding at you encouragingly to continue.

"i think alexia is the best footballer in the world. she trains six times a week, goes for a run every day, she has scored..." you paused to hold up your hand where your mami had helped you scribble down a few things.

"...twenty two goals just this season for barcelona, and eight this year for españa." you read out off your hand looking up with a proud grin toward your sister who looked like she was about to cry as she smiled back down at you.

"alexia is also the best hermana in the world. she always puts our family first, she always looks out for me and my other hermana alba, she always helps our mami, and she is a very good listener. she taught me how to ride a bike and how to run really fast and tie my shoes up and how to blow bubbles in milk and to be kind to everyone. and that making mistakes is important because thats how you learn stuff." you rambled out in one breath, pausing to catch it for a second before continuing.

"when my papi died i was sad and i didn't know where he went. but alexia was always there with hugs and kisses and to read to me and take me to our special spot in the park so we could sit in the sun and talk to papi together in heaven. i love her very much, she is very cool and when i grow up i want to be just like alexia, she's my hero!" you grabbed your sisters hand and again beamed up at her, alexia's bottom lip wobbling ever so slightly as she fought every human instinct she had in her not to break down in a puddle.

"you can ask her questions now!" you let go of alexia's hand and pushed her forward as a chorus of tiny voices started to shout all at once and the footballers eyes widened trying to separate them.

"do you know messi?" "why is there a drawing on your arm?" "do you know how to juggle?" "can you show us how to score a goal?" "why number 11?" "have you met messi?" "whats your favourite food?" "why are your hands so big?" "do footballers have to be tall?" "how fast can you run?" "do girls play football different to boys?"

"vale vale vale! one question at a time, we will go in a circle and everybody gets a turn. ana you can go first!" your teacher clapped to gain everyones attention as your sister let out a small sigh of relief, sending the woman a grateful smile.

"ale sit down with us!" you tugged on her hand again as your sister moved to sit cross legged and everyone shuffled a little closer making the older girl chuckle slightly.

almost an hour later and several failed attempts to wrap things up, your teacher put her foot down for good, clapping a pattern and whistling loudly though her fingers as you all immediately fell silent.

"i am sure alexia has training today, and she needs to go get ready." your teacher sent your sister an amused smile who nodded, your class all groaning and complaining but another loud whistle had you all fall quiet.

"can i walk alexia to the gate por favor? i'll run back and be very fast!" you asked your teacher once she'd instructed everyone to thank your sister and say their goodbyes, herding everyone back to their desks to start your lessons for the day.

"sí fresa but you come right back here after. no dawdling!" your teacher warned as you nodded enthusiastically and took alexia's outstretched hand, a final goodbye sung out from your class before the two of you left through the door.

a comfortable silence fell between the pair of you as you lead her over to the front gates. "that was so cool. i think that was the best show and tell ever! gracias ale." you quickly hugged her leg goodbye and turned to run back to your classroom before your sister snagged the back of your shirt.

"hey i said i wouldn't dawdle!" you protested as alexia spun you around, crouching down and yanking you into a suffocatingly bone crushingly tight hug.

"ale i can't breathe." you mumbled out with your face smushed against her shoulder, hitting her back with your hand but still your sister made no move to let you go.

"ale i gotta go, i'm gonna be late!" you whined, trying to pull away and grimacing in disgust as she loosened up only to kiss all over your face.

"no! fres you are not allowed to wipe those off. they're special." your sister warned catching your wrist in her hand as you huffed but none the less obeyed. "why are you crying? are you sad?" you realised as alexia tried to wipe the single tear which escaped but not fast enough for you to miss it.

"no hermanita, the opposite. i am very very proud of you, and i love you very much. you know you are my hero, sí?" "really?" "really. pinky promise!" just like this morning your pinkies interlocked.

"and when i grow up, i wanna be like you!" alexia smiled, flicking your ear as you gave her a strange look. "you are grown up!" you frowned as alexia only let out a small laugh.

"well then when i grow down. go to class, diablillo." with one final pinch of your cheeks she was standing again and nodding behind you across the playground.

"will you be here to pick me up later?" "always fresa, i will always be here."

[meowordeath]

The ‘orange peel’ theory! :3

w / Eli Clark , Aesop Carl , Victor Grantz & Naib Subedar !

A/N : this is a short little scenario! and I don't know if anyone has done this already.

Warnings - none ?

Eli Clark <3

You and him are relaxing at the starting table waiting for the hunter to arrive so the match can start. You had asked the small patroller to bring you a small piece of fruit. It had brought you back an orange.

Eli watched you stare at the orange for a moment to before speaking. “Would you like me to peel that for you my love?” His tone was soft, honestly making you melt at his offer.

“Yes please, if you wouldn’t mind. I don’t really want to have sticky hands before the match.” You saying handing over the orange happily.

He does an okay job peeling the orange. It has a few scratch marks on the slices themself, but overall your thankful you dont have orange peel stuck in your nails or juice staining your hands. You’d definitely ask him again.

“Thank you!” You say plucking the fruit from his hands, even giving him a few slices.

Aesop Carl

He was in the middle of doing nothing, maybe messing around with his coffin doll a little dressing it up and stuff, but he quickly dropped what he was doing to attend to you.

You greet him loveingly as you quickly approaching him, orange in hand. He put his tools down turning toward you. “Could you peel this orange for me please” You give him a big smile holding it out.

He raises his eyebrow slightly in confusion. “Well, yes I guess I can, but why don’t you want to?” Though he asks he still takes the orange from your hands.

“Well you know, I just don't want orange all over my hands, and it a win cause I get to see my lovely boyfriend” His face an ears turn slightly red. “Ah, I see.”

Aesop doesn’t peel the orange with his hands through he turns around grabbing his scalpel and just cuts the peel off in a cute swirl.

It would've been even cuter if he hadn't cut off most of the edible part as well. You think next time you’d have better luck just peeling it yourself.

“Uh, thank you!” You take the orange from him kissing beside his eye before taking off. He shakes his head as you disappear as fast as you’d appeared.

Victor Grantz

Victor was in the middle of writing a letter when you put your orange down beside his letter. “Victor, may you please be a dear and peel this orange for me!”

You said it so nicely and who is he to decline such a polite request from you. He smiles at you as he picks up your orange with a nod.

The way he peels the orange is perfect. He didn’t accidentally puncture it with his nails and manage to remove most of that yucky white part.

He even pulls apart the slices for you, putting them in a heart as he pulled them apart. You’d definitely come to him again if you needed any fruit peeled.

Kissing his on cheek you take half of them leaving the rest for him. “I’ll let you have half since you're working hard”

Naib Subedar

“Naib-” You don't actually get to finish before he takes the fruit out of your hand. “Thank you.” He says graciously, at least so you think, before taking a bite out of the orange, rind and all.

You sputter, eye twitching as you stare at him munch on your orange. “That-” He cuts you off again thinking your going to comment on him eating the rind.

“It has more nutrients if you eat the outer part as well.” his mouth is full and he respond. The juice of your orange dripping down his chin.

You stare as him as he finishes off your orange. He has the audacity to thank you and kiss you not even before wiping his face.

You don't ever ask Naib to peel nor cut fruit for you again.

Not proof read! So sorry if there are errors :3

[killersfool]

hii! not sure if you’re open to requests but i’m going to give u a few ideas! most of these are for elijah hewson😭

falling asleep on the couch, waking up to not only a blanket around them, but eli squeezed in behind them

being in the studio with the band and messing about?? making jokes and being silly!

kissing and dancing in the kitchen to an old singe they both like?

eli taking care of you when you’re sick and just being super soft and caring!

spending valentine’s day together!

something about the reader playing with eli’s fingers to calm them down?

softly smiling at each other from across the room and also reassuring touches!

telling each other how much they love them

them cuddling in bed and pulling eachother closer

hope these spark your writing :))))

Kiss It Better | ELIJAH HEWSON

here's a short little thing inspired by this request!

PAIRING: elijah hewson x f!reader

WORDS: 1.5k

SUMMARY: eli's girlfriend is ill, elijah comforts her.

GENRE: hurt/comfort, fluff

WARNINGS: references to throwing up

I've never been so ill in my life. My nose is so runny. I've almost used every single packet of tissues in the kitchen cabinet right under the sink — which used to be a lot and now is very little. I've thrown up my insides into the loo way too many times to count on my fingers. Bent over the toilet, eyes pricking with tears, I've never felt so useless. At least the thought of my boyfriend getting back after his gig gives me something to look forward to. But it's far too late.

I'm staring at the TV screen. I hug my knees to my chest, attempting to generate some warmth. The blanket is upstairs — probably hiding in the space between the bed and the wall. Surely, if I attempt to stumble upstairs now, I'll just get stuck and end up falling asleep in the corridor.

I can't stop glancing at the door. I'm hoping for a doorknob twist, knock, ring of the doorbell, stamp of boots, low and raspy post-concert voice. But I'm just met with nothing. No signs of his arrival. He hasn't called me. He usually doesn't. He likes to surprise me. After having the worst migraine of my life, it would give me some comfort if he just gave me a hug. A warm Elijah Hewson hug would cleanse my mind.

Starting to realise that the TV is doing more harm than good, I switch it off. I'm beginning to see blurry triangular shapes and my eyes burn like they're on fire. The living room is pitch black. I'm freezing. I'm tired. I take two paracetamol tablets and chug some water. Curling up on my side, legs on the armrest, I close my eyes.

-

I wake up. Sunlight gleams through the gaps in the white curtains. My body is wrapped in a duvet, soft and warm. Skin is against mine. Arms are around my body, squeezing me tightly. He's shirtless. I can tell by the tufts of chest hair flicking at my shoulder. His head is on my back, curls all over my skin, lips between my shoulderblades. I don't want to move. I don't want to speak. He's asleep. Gentle snores, deep breaths, in and out.

I must've fallen into a deep sleep because I have no recollection of his arrival or him ever taking me upstairs. I'm usually a light sleeper. This migraine fully knocked me out. That's the best nights sleep I've had in a while. I'm especially thankful I managed to escape from work for the rest of the week.

Elijah's normally the little spoon when we hug like this. It's funny how the tables have turned. I think I prefer this though. But lying awake and tracing the muscles in his back always seems to calm me down.

I want to ask him how the show went and the reason for his tardiness. He had been playing in Glasgow, thankfully only a few miles away from me and had bought me tissues, chocolate and gave me an endless supply of kisses before he had to run down to meet the band.

Opening my eyes fully, I take a peek over at the bedside table. He's brought me more tissues, face masks, more chocolate and a box of sleep teabags.

I realise Elijah's awake when his fingers start to walk along my bare stomach and his mouth is at the juncture between my back and shoulder. He pulls my hair to the side, presses his wet mouth to my neck. He smells clean. I'm sure he's showered. His hair feels a little damp.

He keeps pulling me closer. Arms tightening like he's a boa constrictor. Cool rings on my stomach, large hands tugging at the waistband of my shorts.

"You feeling better?" He asks, between kisses, tongue tracing my jugular vein. It's unsettlingly nice. His words are always gruff the morning after the show. All the singing takes a toll. Makes him sound more mellow. Sometimes I worry for his vocal cords.

"Not really." I groan. A mind-numbing headache is still prodding at my brain and the brightness of the sun makes my eyes burn. He's got a hand on my forehead, cool fingers against fiery skin — checking the temperature.

"God, you're pale. And you're burning up. I should get the thermometer." He gets out of bed. The loss of weight of his body makes the mattress shift. I glance over at him. His hair has stuck up at the top, his bare back glows under the sunlight. He stands up. Sweatpants cling loosely to his hips, revealing the muscles of his abdomen and a chain circles around his neck. He leaves the room — not even giving me time to utter a word of annoyance at the sudden lack of touch.

Then he's back. He crawls into bed. The thermometer is between his index finger and thumb. I look at the cross tattoo on his palm, see the concentration on his face as he plays around with the buttons.

"It's just a migraine," I say but he's already turning it on and pointing at my mouth. I roll my eyes and separate my lips. He gives me a sly smirk, just making me sit like that for a moment. Then he puts the device beneath my tongue and waits patiently. I'm trying not to laugh at how awkward this is. I close my eyes to evade his gaze but I can still feel the force of his stare.

"You've got a fever." Dr Hewson alerts me with his expert diagnosis although the furrow of his brows makes him seem unsure. He looks down at the numbers displayed, rubbing his face with worry. "A really bad one." He's now searching up on his phone what it means.

"Should I go to the doctors?" I shuffle away from him. I don't want him to catch what I have. He has gigs all week, I don't want to ruin anything for him.

He notices my movement. Shaking his head, he drags me back towards him, making me nestle into his chest. His eyes are still darting along a website.

"I think you just need to rest. I'll make you breakfast." Elijah kisses my nose before running downstairs with his mind set solely on making some decent food.

Through the corridor, into the kitchen. He's forgotten where half the things are in the room. Opening cabinets, searching through the fridge, putting water into the kettle. Most of the time he'll get his breakfast on the way to a show. Maybe a café, maybe he'll steal some food from Ryan. Today, however, he's lucky enough to not have a gig and actually have time to look after his girlfriend. Although he's definitely going to make a mess of the place.

His final decision is to make omelettes. Oil on the frying pan, ham—leaving it to heat up until it's a little crispy. Two eggs, cracked and swirled in a glass. Cheese on top, grated with masterful excellence—at least that's what he believes. Folds it over to make it fill half of the pan. Let's it continue to fry. Then he's running over to make a cup of tea. He uses one of the sleep teabags he bought. He's just about to plate up when footsteps echo behind him.

I have to stop for a second when I walk into the kitchen. It's a rarity to see Elijah here, cooking for me. We started dating at the beginning of the tour which unluckily means that he's hardly ever home. He has to leave early in the morning and gets back really late. Whenever he has days off, he takes me on dates and walks, or we just laze around at home, basking in eachother's presence. There's times when he brings me along to the recording studio so that I can reprimand all the band members or give an outside opinion of their new songs.

Elijah seems so focused on getting this omelette perfect. He's running around the place. He grabs two pieces of bread to turn his dish into an omelette-sandwich. I stand in the doorway for a while, just watching him. But, I can't stop myself from nearing him. As he cuts an apple into a slices, I slide my arms around his stomach, pressing my head to his shoulder. He sighs quietly. I breathe in his scent, his comfort.

"You should be in bed," he whispers, although he doesn't seem to want me to let go. I shake my head as he looks at me.

There's music playing on the radio. I turn it up. It's a song by The Smiths. I'm swaying to the beat, moving Elijah along with me. He's still carefully chopping fruit into perfect pieces. Watermelon, strawberries, mango. My mouth is watering just looking at the vast array of flavours.

Elijah drops his knife, turns around to face me. His hands find my waist, his lips find my neck, his head burrows into my chest like he's a mole hiding under soil. We dance along to the crackle of music, feeling the melodies trickle into our bones. Just his presence makes me feel better, every kiss turns my negative thoughts to mush.

[thenightshadowqueen]

What are your top 5 (or top 7) favorite media ever (can be anime/manga, tv series, books, movies, games, etc)? Why love them? Thanks ⭐

Thank you for the ask! I love lists. Also, sorry for the delay in answering; it’s been a week.

(Also I’m going to assume that YouTube videos count for the sake of this list; if they don’t, let me know and I can redo the list.)

5. Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston (book and movie)

This isn’t one of my four core fandoms, but I genuinely really love it. I think the book was better, but the movie adaptation was really good! It’s definitely one of the better adaptations I’ve seen. I think the main reason I love it is because I genuinely really like the characters (which is rare for me). Alex and Henry both have flaws, which I think is super important, and their dynamic has so much potential and is played out so gorgeously in their story.

4. Vicious by V. E. Schwab (book)

This is my second favourite book, but it lives rent-free in my head in a way that no other characters ever have. I relate so deeply to Victor, and I’m so fundamentally intrigued by Victor and Eli’s dynamic. I’ve made a fair few posts about that, so I think I might leave it here for the sake of not repeating myself, but just… yeah.

3. All of Our Demise by Amanda Foody and C. L. Herman (book)

This is the second book in the duology, and it is my favourite book of all time. I love the first book, but the second one??? Gavin and Alastair are my babies, and I adore them individually and together with all my heart. I remember thinking they had chemistry in the first book, but Alastair was with Isobel, so I didn’t think it would happen… and then I read book two. And I don’t think I’ll ever be over how fucking delighted I was. I think that specific feeling of not being queerbaited is part of why this book has stuck with me, but it’s also just so genuinely fun to read. I love this book so much.

2. BBC Merlin (TV)

This has been my favourite show since I was twelve years old, and I am not changing that now. (Sometimes I wonder if part of the reason I love it so much is because of the person who recommended it to me, but we don’t have time to get into all of that.) Look, I’m not saying that Merlin was the best show ever made, but I genuinely enjoy it so much. (And that’s not just me; everyone I’ve ever introduced it to has loved it.) Honestly, for me, a lot of it comes down to the characters again: Merlin and Arthur, obviously, but also Morgana, and I’m so intrigued by Mordred’s storyline, and the side characters are great, and I could just go on and on. But seriously, it’s my comfort show, and I just enjoy watching it so much.

1. Shoot from the Hip videos (YouTube)

Honestly, I spend so much of my day watching these men that it’s a little concerning. (In my defence, my chronic illness means that I have a whole lot of time.) The thing is, there have, historically, been very few things that genuinely make me laugh. And they manage it every time. I just genuinely really enjoy watching their videos, and I get so invested in their stories, too, because their characters are so well developed (especially considering they’re making it all up on the spot). Also, not to get all serious, but they’ve genuinely been so good for my mental health. I’d been struggling since I got ill (I’m doing somewhat better now), and finding the boys genuinely saved my life, and I’ll leave it there to avoid getting depressing, but… yeah.

Also, I got a second ask more recently that was the same thing, so I’m just going to consider this the answer to both instead of typing this all out twice. I hope that’s all right!

[jerzwriter]

This story has been brewing in my head for such a long time I thought it was about time I wrote it down.

Book: Wake the Dead (Choices) Pairing: Eli Sipes x Zoe Rivera (F!MC) Characters: Troy Hassan, Minna Arbogast, Georg (OC) Rating: Teen Words: 2,600 Summary: There are still many things that need to be put in place in Olympus. Traditions and rituals that need to be established. When Minna and Georg pay Zoe a visit, this becomes abundantly clear. In the days that follow, there are meaningful conversations and realizations to be had, and in the end, Eli & Zoe see their future in a brand new light.

A/N: Participating in @choicesaugustchallenge (I used August heat instead of Summer heat - but I think that will be OK :) )

The sun had finally begun to set in the sky, ending another long day in the August heat. Summer was beginning to wind down, but drone activity wasn’t, and with much to do before the winter months hit, days started early and ended late at Olympus. As the colony’s leader,  Zoe was working hardest of all, and while others were finishing their dinner and beginning to unwind, Zoe was still toiling away in her small office. There were plans and schedules to be made, and she wasn’t going to rest until she was done.

But Eli had other plans, and when he stuck his head in the door, he was on a mission. Zoe’s face lit up when she saw him.

“Did you bring me dinner?” she smiled.

“No,” he replied. “But I haven’t eaten yet, either; I’m waiting for you. So, let's go. We can eat together.”

“Eli! You shouldn’t wait for me. Go ahead and eat. I’ll be down soon.”

“You’ll be down now," he insisted. "It’s almost eight o’clock.”

Zoe let out a sigh as her shoulders slumped. “I’d love to, but there is still more to be done.”

“Yep. And it will still be here tomorrow.” He stepped behind her and rubbed her shoulders, causing her to sink into her chair. She closed her eyes and swore she was about to fall asleep.

“All right,” she grinned. “You win. Let’s go have dinner.”

Just as she was about to stand, there was a knock on the door, and Minna Arbogast entered, Georg Collins, from Sunflower Creek, behind her.

“Hi,” Minna, typically straightforward, said almost sheepishly. “Could we have a moment with you?”

“No,” Eli scowled. “The office is closed for the day. If it’s anything official, it can wait until tomorrow.”

“Eli!” Zoe scolded. “Minna, Georg, is this something personal? If so, we can discuss it downstairs. But if it’s regarding Olympus, I’m happy to take a few more minutes here.”

Minna and Georg exchanged a glance. “It’s kind of about both,” he said as Zoe motioned to the chairs in front of her desk. Eli, displeased, slumped down on an old couch on the side of the room.

“What can I help you with?” Zoe asked.

“Well, I suppose you know Georg and I are involved,” Minna started. “Romantically involved.”

Eli chuckled loudly, drawing everyone's attention his way. “Yeah, that’s pretty obvious.”

“Hmm,” Zoe snickered. “Laughs the man who thought we were fooling people at one time, too. But yes, I’m aware, and I’m very happy for you! But what does that have to do with your visit?”

“I’ve asked Minna to marry me, and luckily for me, she’s accepted!”

“What! Oh my! Congratulations!” Zoe hollered. “That’s such exciting news!”

“Thank you!” Minna smiled. “We’re so happy! There’s just one problem. How do we get married?”

“Oh,” Zoe chuckled. “You have a point. You’ll be Olympus’s first marriage, but I supposed we need to come up with how to do that here.”

“We had some traditions and rituals at Sunflower Creek,” Georg offered. “Minna says they had similar ones at Skyweld, too.”

“That’s great! I’d like to call our council to discuss this, but it shouldn’t take long. How soon would you like to do this?”

“We’d like to do it soon, before the fall if possible.”

“I think we can manage that. I’ll call for a meeting tomorrow, and then I’ll be in touch.”

“Great!” Minna smiled. The happy couple excitedly thanked Zoe and left. Zoe turned to Eli with a bright smile.

“Well, that was nice! A great reason to work a little later if you ask me!”

The corners of Eli's lips curled slightly as he watched Zoe, so genuinely happy for her friend’s news.

“I’ve got to admit,” he said. “It’s a lot better than issues we usually face around here, but now your day is now done, and you need to eat.” He stood up, extending his hand. “Let’s go!”

“Yes, sir!” she complied with a salute.

As they sat alone in the kitchen, a plate of stew between them, Zoe put a plan into action.

“I have a feeling this is going to be right up Feather’s alley! Some of the other elders, too!”

“I’m sure it is,” Eli said, a bit more reserved than usual. Zoe nudged him and gave a little grin.

“What’s on your mind, Eli? You’ve been awfully quiet.”

“Nothing,” he sighed, pushing away his empty plate and stretching his arms over his head. “I was just thinking... we’re not married.”

Zoe barked out a laugh. “No, we’re not. And from what I hear, some in the old world would say we’re ‘living in sin.’ I never exactly understood that concept, but whatever...”

“I don’t get it either. But I was wondering... what are your thoughts on that?”

“On living in sin?” she questioned. “I think it’s ridiculous. What the hell could be sinful about people who love each other sharing their lives together. Like a piece of paper changes anything."

“Not about that,” Eli laughed. “About marriage.” He moved his chair closer to hers, leaning forward; he brushed a strand of hair away from her face and looked at her tenderly. “Have you ever given it any thought?”

Zoe's eyes went wide. “Oh. Oh, I see. I have to admit, I haven’t given it much thought. Formal marriages weren’t really a thing at The Tower. I never thought I’d meet anyone I’d want to spend the rest of my life with, and, let’s face it, the rest of our lives tend to be pretty short in this world, so I never really thought about it. Why?” She asked cautiously. “Have you?”

“For me, personally? No. I hadn't. It’s nothing I ever foresaw for myself, given my circumstances. But marriage in general? Yeah. I have. I still remember the old world, and marriage seemed to be a pretty big deal back then. Plus, my parents were married, and I always thought of marriage as something special, something almost sacred, because the two of them did it so well.”

“It must have been so nice to grow up with them modeling that kind of love,” she smiled.

Eli looked into the distance, but his eyes were warm with reflection. “Yeah, it was.”

“What do you remember about marriage and weddings from the old world?” She asked. “Maybe that can help me decide what we can do at Olympus?”

“I was still young,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But some of the celebrations were over the top. I went to a few family weddings, and they were fun, even if I had to wear a suit. But I remember my parents saying some people went broke just to have a fancy wedding day. My dad said too many were worried about the wedding and not the marriage. That always stuck in my mind.”

“That does sound kind of stupid,” Zoe agreed. “But then it was a different world. I know it was before you were born, but did your parents have a big wedding?”

“Initially, no. They were an interracial couple, and while most of their families supported them, some were real asses. They didn’t want any headaches, so they decided to elope, just the two of them. But when they got back and told everyone, my Mom’s parents insisted they have a wedding. My grandfather said no one was denying his little girl a wedding, and they weren’t going to deny him the chance of walking her down the aisle.”

“That’s sweet. Did they have a big wedding after that?”

“Not big by old world standards. My Mom said they had about fifty of their closest friends and family and that it was a beautiful day. They both said it was a lot of fun. But they kept the focus on the marriage - not the party."

“It sounds like your parents had the right idea. They knew what was important.”

Eli smiled wistfully, his fingers twirling Zoe’s hair. “Yeah, they sure did. But what about your parents? Were they married?”

“I really don’t remember too much, but I know my parents were married – my biological mom and dad, as well as my two dads. Ana told me that our biological parents were married in a big Catholic church wedding. Their families were very strict and wouldn’t have allowed them to live together without it. See,” she smirked. “They wouldn’t have approved of us living in sin.”

“What about your dads?”

“They were married. When my mother left, Dad met Papa, and they had a small wedding. I don’t remember much from my childhood, but I remember the picture of them on the mantle, and they looked so happy. It was on the beach, Ana was holding Dad’s hand, and Papa carried me on his hip.”

A bittersweet look captured Zoe's happiness, recalling the memory but the deep pain of all that she had lost along the way. Her began to quiver. “I wish things could have been different.”

“I know,” Eli said, holding her close. “I know.”

“Can we go up to bed?” She whispered. “I’d really like to just lie in your arms for a while if that's all right."

She didn’t have to say another word.

~~~~~

The following day, Zoe met with the members of Olympic’s governing council, and a plan was put in place. Later that night, she found an enthusiastic Minna and Georg talking to a too-proud-of-himself Troy, who had several long lists on the table before him. Curiosity got the better of Zoe, and she joined her best friend the second the couple left.

“Whatcha doing?” She grinned.

“Me? Only putting together the most incredible wedding Olympus has ever seen! Well... the only wedding Olympus has seen so far, but there’s more to come.”

“You?” Zoe smirked. “What do you have to do with their wedding?”

“Zoe. Zoe, Zoe, Zoe,” he sighed. “Who better to plan a party than moi? In fact, this whole thing has made me a little nostalgic for the old world. I think I found my calling. I would have been one hell of an event planner.”

“You know,” she laughed. “I can see it!”

“I’m glad Minna and Georg will be my first wedding,” Troy winked. “This way, I’ll have experience when I plan yours.”

Zoe spit out the water she was drinking. “Mine? What do you mean... mine?"

“Zoe, please,” he waved dismissively. “It’s only a matter of time before it’s you and Eli. In fact, I’m shocked you two aren’t the first.”

“Troy! Eli and I haven’t even discussed marriage!”

“Really?” He said, raising a brow. “Why not?”

“I think the idea is sweet and all,” Zoe shrugged. “But it’s not like I need it. I love Eli, and he loves me. That’s all that really matters. Besides, the archaic idea that women lived to get married was one of the better things to die with the outbreak. My wedding,” she scoffed, taking another sip of water. “As if.”

Later that night, Zoe stepped out of the shower and joined Eli, who was already reading in bed. She slipped under the sheets, reveling in the fresh feeling and quiet of the room. Eli smiled at the way she squiggled around like a little child.

“You happy?” he asked, putting his book aside.

“So happy!” she grinned. “This is my favorite part of the day.”

Eli looked at her thoughtfully, then leaned over to place a kiss on her forehead. “Mine, too.”

Zoe closed her eyes as she rested her head on his chest, but Eli’s eyes remained open wide. He was quiet, studying every crack on the ceiling, when he woke Zoe with a gentle nudge.

“Zo, zo.”

“Mmmhhhm.”

“You never did answer my question.”

“Oh?” She said, sitting up to look him in the eye. “What question is that?”

“What are your thoughts,” he stalled. “About marriage.”

“I answered you, silly,” she grinned. “We had a whole conversation. Don’t you remember?”

“We had a conversation about your thoughts on marriage in general. You never told me how you felt about marriage... for you.”

Zoe’s heart raced as realization washed over her. He wasn’t talking about a concept; he was talking about.... them.

“For... for me?” she stuttered.

“Yeah, for you,” he smiled, perhaps the most beautiful smile she had ever seen. “And me.”

Zoe leaned back a bit, her hand clutching her nightshirt, as her mind filled with more thoughts than she could handle.

“I... I never really thought about it... have... have you?”

“I have,” he smiled, cupping her cheek in his hand. “I know you think it’s unnecessary, and I understand why, but...” he let out a breath. “But I think you and I have the same kind of love that my parents share. It’s something I never, ever thought I’d get to experience, and now that I am, I know it’s the most precious gift I’ve ever received. So yeah, I’d like to marry you, Zoe. I’d like to stand in front of all the people we love and formally declare my love and devotion to you. Then, I want us to spend the rest of our days living our lives in the manner my parents showed me. You and me, side by side, until the end of time.”

Zoe remained silent when he finished, her hands clasped over her mouth as large tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She didn’t move, and for a moment, Eli’s heart sank; perhaps he had overstepped. The silence lasted only moments, but it felt like an eternity when Zoe answered in a broken voice.

“You, you want that... with me?”

“Of course I do,” he grinned. “Zoe, I love you more than anything else in the world. You have no idea how happy I am that we came into each other’s lives.”

“You almost shot me,” she smirked as Eli’s head fell in his hands.

“I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

“Nope, you’re not,” she beamed, then she took on a more serious tone, her voice, barely a whisper. “Eli... you want to marry me?”

“I do,” he nodded earnestly. “More than anything.”

“Oh, Eli,” she whispered, caressing his cheek. “I would absolutely love to marry you! I love you so much."

He pulled her into his arms, and the two embraced for a long, long while. Neither wanted the precious moment to end. When they pulled away, Zoe looked at him with a coy grin.

“So, does this mean we’re engaged?”

“Well,” he laughed. “I think I should propose first. This was just a discussion, I can do better than that for an official prop...”

“No,” Zoe interrupted. “No, you can't. Eli... you could never do better than that. That was... perfect. Just like the love we share."

“Lettin’ me off the hook?” he snickered, causing her to break into laughter.

“I would never if you didn’t do the job right, but... you did. I love you, Eli, and yes, I’ll marry you.”

They looked at each other with tears in their eyes, an electric current surrounding them when he pulled her into a passionate, emotional kiss.

“We’re going to get married,” he whispered when he pulled away.

No other words were necessary as they lay in each other’s arms. In a world filled with so much sadness and pain, they had found something beautiful and pure. Something that belonged only to them, and it made them cherish it all the more.

They couldn’t wait to share the news with their friends and the rest of Olympus, but that could wait until tomorrow. Somehow, they knew the people closest to them were already aware. As they lay entangled in each other’s arms, they could feel their love surrounding them. Eli’s mother, his father, his brother, David, too; Zoe’s dads, and her beloved sister Ana... they knew. Eli & Zoe were confident that they knew, and as they drifted to sleep in each other’s arms, they knew that they were surrounded by their love and that somewhere, someplace, they were all smiling.

@choicesficwriterscreations

Tagging others separately.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Hi! Can I request a love triangle headcannons with Johan & Eli? Thank you in advance 💙

I'll be honest. My response is late but I have been thinking a lot about this dynamic ever since I've seen this. In a word: stressful.

Have... whatever the hell this is. And thanks for requesting anon!

Johan Seong/Reader/Eli Jang love triangle hc

This is not a joke. In this essay I will...

Yikes, you're really picking the two with the lowest tolerance for romantic bullshit?

Listen. Any sort of love triangle involving Johan Seong is the worst kind of headache you can ever imagine. See - one night of PAID FRIENDSHIP with Jace Park.

This guy does. not. share.

You really don't want to bring out those sort of mushy squishy feelings from Johan and not fully reciprocate it. What's worse though, is he will not confess so you have to be observant and perceptive yourself.

Give him a definitive yes or a no.

And Eli Jang is pretty guarded with romance after Heather. He's trying to be a good father to Yenna while also taking care of Hostel or whatever the fuck this dumbdumb is upto these days so he doesn't have time for romance.

Having feelings for you brings a lot of turmoil and stress that is very much unwelcomed. Thinks about you a lot. Playing happy family in his head once all this blows over.

Eli's a very busy guy and doesn't seek you out, though will call and message quite a bit. Just to talk to you and be friendly, even though this is completely not the type of thing he does.

How a love triangle could work

The only way I would see this working is if you are not aware of their feelings for you. If you do know and keep stringing them along, they will definitely peace out asap.

Them being aware of each other's feelings won't be a dealbreaker, but during the more... difficult moments, they might just think it is more effort than it's worth with everything else happening around them.

Surprisingly little crossover between these two. There was their fights quite a while back, but Eli and Johan are very much like two ships passing. Similar arcs with being Gun's successors and being trained by Tom Lee.

Basically, you're never going to really see them together but they WILL give you a migraine.

So. Some actual headcanons

These are opposites in many ways.

Eli will try to take up your time mentally, but Johan will almost always physically be around. Trailing after you, being with you.

If you get some pings on your phone, Johan's guard would immediately go up. Who is that?? Would never outright ask, the irritation simmering below the surface and jealousy exhibiting through other actions.

Similarly, take too long to respond back to Eli then he will start having all these doubts. Less about his actual feelings for you, but more on the timing and whether seeking you out is a good idea at all.

And because there is so little interaction between these two, unfortunately you are stuck in the middle.

AND they seem like the type that would always harbour a grudge against each other for their previous run ins (especially Johan), and see each other as competition. Vying for your affection is just another way for them to butt heads.

Eli through the phone: "tell Johan I can always give him a haircut, he looks like he needs one." Johan, being so quick-witted, will probably respond with "fuck off" and give you the cold shoulder for days.

Or Johan will hide your phone or distract you so much that you forget to respond back to Eli or completely miss his call.

They're both hot and cold in different ways. Johan will be mad at his feelings for you, stay away, and then find he can't. During his sweeter moments, he will be around you a lot, something of a lost puppy. But when he's at his most childish and selfish worst, he will vanish for ages leaving you to worry.

As mentioned, Eli will just be constantly fretting about the timing of this and feeling guilty about speaking to you when his focus should be elsewhere. So he might go quiet and pull away for a bit. Eventually, you'll contact him and then he'll think hearing your voice, reading your texts, occasionally seeing your face makes it worth it though.

In summary

Good fucking luck with these two.

The best advice is to be perceptive of their feelings for you then stay in one goddamn lane.

[ltacryptid]

(the hand washing fic. courtesy of @networksupported)

4ccol4de should really ask Ty to cut down on the consolidation's blood.

He knew, consciously, that Ty couldn’t control how much they bled— but he also knew that Ty could control basically everything else, so it didn’t seem that out of place to ask. Still, he couldn’t deny the deep rooted sickness that stirred in his guts and heart and lungs whenever he’d look down at his hands after the slaughter  execution mercy killings. 

Ty seemed to have decided that killing them with his hands or a close-ranged weapon would be a better option than a gun, his hesitations giving more time for the Mike-Eli consolidations to dig into his brain and beg him to keep them alive. Four days, or maybe months? Of hesitations and retraining and torture caused Ty to finally get that. Though it ended the original issue, the blood still stuck. 

Now his hands were wet with it.

He was thankful for the bathrooms being so close to the white rooms, as he could dash— still drenched— towards the sinks and try to avoid the mirrors as he washed the stains of what could have been off of the white sleeves of his shirts and his arms and, god, his hands. They reeked of human, of Cicada, and iron. 

He wished his nails were longer so he could dig out all of the gore underneath them. 

The white porcelain of the sink slowly stained red as he rinsed his hands under freezing cold water, hoping the shock to his system would finally wake him up from this nightmare— hopefully back in bed with his then alive lover. He knew it wouldn’t, but a man could hope. 

Clearly, though, a man could not have a minute of fucking peace.

The bathroom door creaked open, the polished metal of the door not hiding the rust at the hinges, nor the man behind it.

Cas-fucking-Townsend. The most unbearable, beautiful bastard that had ever locked onto 4ccol4de. He smirked. 4ccol4de dragged his eyes away from Cas and back to the mirror, looking into his eyes and then back at his hands. The room felt colder. The water still dripping into and down his hands felt hot. 

He cleared his throat.

“Hey, baby. Fancy seeing you here.”

Silence.

“Seriously? Nothing?”

“It’s really not the fucking time.” 4ccol4de spat, holding his hands together tight under the stream of water. The tips of his fingers wrinkled. He didn’t move them.

“Cute. You always have time for me.” 

The click of the doors lock. The echoing steps as the man approached.

“I mean, really. What do you even do around here? You have all the time in the world.”

4ccol4de pursed his lips. “You know that’s not true.” 

“Do I really? You never talk to me anymore, babes. It’s almost like you’re ignoring me. And that,” Cas says as he stalks behind 4ccol4de and leans his head on his shoulder, “Would just break my heart.” And he reaches around 4ccol4des waist and shuts off the water, causing the room to dip into silence besides uncomfortably close breathing. 

“You’re unbearable.” 4ccol4de whispered, curling in on himself. Cas snickers. 

“You know you love it.” He crooned, pulling 4ccol4de back just enough that he could get himself seated on the sink in front of the man. Though he could’ve technically left, pulled away from Cas and his eyes and his horrible mouth he knew he couldn’t. He was trapped, kept on a lead and pulled right. 

4ccol4de closed his eyes and nodded. It was easier to accept these things than fight them. Cas smiled. 

“Good. Anyways, what happened here? I don’t think I’ve seen you this… out of it, we’ll say, since you last saw Mantis.” 

4ccol4de cringed at the name as it escaped his lips. Just the thought of another Mike-Eli flashed him back into the horrible white room and a man sobbing and his hands. He opened his eyes and looked at Cas’s face. 

“Oh. Ooooh. Ty made you kill another one, yeah? God, you poor dear.” He mocked. 

“Don’t talk to me like that. I’m not a ‘poor dear.’ I did the job I had to do.” 

“Still, I’m sure it hurt to kill it. You’ve always been such a bitch about killing people— or, things, I should say.” 

“He’s not an it and you know that. Talking about him like he wasn’t a person won’t make me feel any better.”

Cas snickers for a moment before bursting out into laughter, long enough that 4ccol4de looked back down at his own feet, at the least to stop his neck pain from looking up all the time.

“So you did kill it, hm? Sad. I’m sure you had to hurt it pretty bad to get it down this time since Ty banned you from guns— oh, don’t interrupt me. Everyone knows about your little gun problem. You couldn't use a gun even if it would save your life. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so pathetic.”

4ccol4de frowned. He didn’t fight it though, not at all. 

“I wonder how it felt. Not for you, of course, we all knew you felt bad, but for it. The Mikeli. Probably horrible, right? I mean, imagine, you’ve just been brought into the world by the worst twink you’ve ever met and then you’re immediately, what, stabbed to death?” He speaks, loosely grabbing the collar of 4ccol4des shirt before pulling him in and continuing.” Imagine that being your whole existence. Imagine being brought to life just to die. Makes you think, yeah?”

The room was silent again as soon as Cas stopped speaking. He was obviously waiting for an answer and, of course, 4ccol4de didn’t want to answer. He could feel his throat closing up with phlegm and tears pricking into the corners of his eyes. Cas shook his head before sighing. 

“You don’t even respect it enough to talk about it? Sad.”

“I don’t—“ 4ccol4de started, cringing as his voice was wetter and shakier than he meant it to be, “I respect it- him, I respect him as much as you can respect a consolidation in this job. Which… which isn’t much. I. I don’t want to think about it, though. I shouldn’t have to. I’m just doing my job.”

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night.” Cas said, his voice dripping with disappointment as he drops from the sink and pats 4ccol4de on his chest.

“Just keep telling yourself that, babe. As long as it keeps you without blood on your hands. You can always talk to me though, if you ever end up thinking about this shit. My room is always open to you, just because you’re my favourite.”

And with that, Cas, in all his glory and rage and religion, left.

4ccol4de turned the water back on.

[missameliep]

Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years

Book: Wake the Dead Characters: Angel Savage; Eli Sipes; Malia Jones (MC) and Troy Hassan. Pairing: Malia Jones (MC) x Troy Hassan. Rating: M (see notes bellow) Word count: 6.300k Summary: After getting separated from her friends during a scouting mission in a new city, Malia got injured and will struggle to survive against all odds. Is she going to make it on her own?

Notes:

English is not my first language;

Characters belong to Pixelberry and I’m borrowing them;

Post-WTD events;

This fic is rated M because of triggering subjects: swearing; mentions of death and violence compliant to canon; mentions of injuries and blood; mention to suicide; readers discretion advised

This fic was inspired by a prompt sent by the lovely @jerzwriter - It kinda took an unexpected turn from where I thought this fic would go! Thanks for sending the prompt and I apologise it took soooo long.

Running through unknown terrain is usually a bad idea and Malia would strongly advice against it, considering how easily one could stumble directly into the arms of the undead. However, given the circumstances, the only other option left is certain death if she tries to hold her ground and fight the ‘zombiefest’ on her own with an injured arm.  

So, she runs.  

Being chased triggered Malia’s brain in survival mode.  

Adrenaline and pure will make her muscles climb another set of stairs and the next one. No amount of exercise at the colony could have prepared her for this. 

Breathe, she reminds herself, breathe. 

Dashing up, Malia reaches the next flight of stairs, barely catching her breath and a glimpse of the number six lying on the floor. 

Six.  

That’s the number of arrows shot and undead put to rest for good before a blur in her peripheral vision obfuscated everything.  

The impact knocked the air out of her lungs. Stumbling back, her body landed on a pile of debris. A sharp pain on her arm didn’t stop her from kicking back, making the decayed corpse reel back, allowing enough space for the metal tip of the arrow sunk deep into an eye socket and exit through the back of the drone’s head.  

Her brain didn’t register getting up or running. Next thing she remembers is the bang of the heavy metal door against the wall when she dashed, hisses and snarls following too close...    

Heart pounding in her ears, almost muffling the sound of her own steps and those of her chasers, she climbs another set of stairs.  

Going three steps at once is not something manageable for much longer; however, slowing down is not an option either until being certain of the distance put between her and the pursuers... 

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. The voices in her mind alternating between her own and Troy’s, that one cheerful tone he used when she was sparring with anyone other than him. You can do this, Malia. You’ve got this!  

Reaching the next flight of stairs, she slows down, pacing her run, and her trained ears capture the faint growls and dragging of feet echoing bellow. There is no need to turn around to know she’s gained on them. At least for now.   

Tenth floor. 

Ten.  

That’s how many days passed since they barely survived the surge. But with all the work tending the injured, the extensive damages to the lodge and deciding on a new place to settle Olympus, one could think it happened months ago... 

Using her good arm, she forces the fire exit door’s handle and pulls with all her strength in vain. 

An inhuman screech echoes.  

A fucking Scout! Just my luck! Every hibernating zombie in a mile will come here... 

She darts upward, hoping the upper floors won’t be packed with drones. 

On the wall, the numbers indicating she reached the sixteenth-floor conserve a faint glow despite the dust and spiderwebs. The fire exit door is also stuck, probably blocked from the inside. With a groan, she pushes and pulls harder, but it doesn’t budge.  

“Better try my luck with the next one,” she murmurs, “Seventeen might be my lucky number.” 

It wasn’t.  

But it doesn’t matter. When your goal is not becoming drone’s snack, you’ll find the strength to keep going.  

This building has at least forty floors... I’ll try the next one and the next one until I find one door unlocked or no more doors to bang on... 

Hope fuels her entire body.  

Twenty-two was her lucky number. 

Pulling at the large bar, she easily props open the fire door. A long and dark hallway stretches before her, the faintest light filtering through the furthest door on the left. 

From the stairs, the hisses are getting louder.  

As quiet as possible, she closes the door and turns on the flashlight, searching for anything to barricade it. Drones shouldn’t be able to grasp on door handles, but they shouldn’t talk or have a conscience either, but Malia knows how untrue those statements can be... 

A fire hose on the wall fits the purpose. Forcing the metal door open, she reels it out as best as she can with one hand, then rolls it around the bar to keep the door shut.  

She barely finished securing the door closed when the horde tested its resistance. Scratches, bangs and ungodly hisses echo. Startled, she takes a step back and the gun out of the shoulder holster. In the darkness, her attention split between the door in front of her and the long corridor behind, from where a drone could be lurking. 

Not daring make a sound, she stands completely still and holds her breath until most of the horde seems to continue the chase up the stairs. Only a few growls persist, but no signs they would manage to break in. 

Letting out an exhausted breath, every muscle on her body seems to give up at once. Her lungs ache. Her vision blurs. She bends over with pain in her side and leans against the closest wall. Her palm is tainted crimson with the blood soaking the t-shirt. 

“Fuck” she hisses and her body slides down. The muscles of her legs melting underneath her weight like frost when the sun comes up. 

The silence that settles is a good sign. If the commotion didn’t attract any zombie, then it’s almost safe to say she’s entered a zombie-free floor. 

Putting her backpack down, Malia takes a sip at the water from the flask and inhales deeply. Another sip at the liquid is not enough to wash the lingering taste of dust in her mouth, but she must save for later. 

Later. 

Eli’s words on the back of her mind reminding now’s the time to prepare for later. “Keep walking. Let your body decelerate. Sitting down is bad. Life is motion.” 

The pain urges her to ignore all the advice.  

There’s no strength left. Blood is pouring from the wound, soaking her t-shirt that has been shredded on the side by the drone’s tallons. Her left arm refuses to be ignored any longer. An acute pain irradiates through the entire limb. Her hand run over the thick fabric of the jacket, touching the bump caused by the bone sticking out... A fracture. 

“Just my luck,” she mutters. 

It’s unsafe to risk making any noise without securing the perimeter first. The fact there’s not a drone in her face, is no excuse to sit back and relax. But on the other hand, she cannot go on without tending to her injuries. 

Rubbing her hand against her face, wiping the sweat, she needs to rest. One more minute. Two more deep breaths. Her back rests against the wall while she inhales and exhales, her breathing becomes steadier and her pulse less erratic.  

From previous experience, if all the noise and the scent of her blood didn’t bring any drone here, she must be safe. For now. 

Her training comes back to mind, and her brain lists everything she needs: a less exposed place; a first aid kit, since the one Shannon insisted on sending with the party remained in the van; and then she’ll find an alternative exit.  

“I can do this,” she mutters like a mantra. “It’ll be fine.” 

When she’s back on her feet the flashlight trembles on her left hand, her fingers barely bending to hold it. Ignoring the pain, Malia tucks it under her arm and holds the revolver with her right hand.  

While she walks, the faint glow fights the darkness, the beam lingering on every closed door while her hearing trained to listen any minor noise. The first door is locked, and she leaves it be. The next one is some kind of storage room, with brooms and several containers with colourful liquids. A quick skim to make sure there’s something useful on the cramped shelves. If Angel were here, she’d probably fabricate an explosive with two of those bottles and a rag. Just in case, she picks up a small one with a highly flammable warning before closing the door and moving on to the next one.  

Pushing it open, she finds herself standing in a bathroom with several urinals, broken mirrors and signs of death everywhere, if the maroon splotches on the white floor tiles and the impression of a hand on the door are not part of the decoration. 

Ignoring the eerie sight and the pain, she takes one careful step after the other. The gun and backpack are placed over the counter next to the sink. She lets the jacket slide off her shoulder and down her arm, exposing the injuries in the mirror. Right beneath the ribs, there’s a gash in the t-shirt and a long cut wider than her index finger. It definitely doesn't need stitches, something undoable by herself. Fortunately, it’s also superficial and no ribs were broken by the collision. Taking a spare t-shirt from the backpack, she tears a piece of the cloth and press it to the wound and keeps the pressure on to stop the bleeding, all the while her gaze doesn’t avert from the bump on her arm. 

She takes a deep breath, preparing to examine it.  

Assisting Shannon while treating the injured taught her a thing or two, and she’s grateful for that. The fracture was right above the elbow and the bone didn’t pierce through the skin, which is a good thing, considering the risk of infection. It’s not the first time she breaks a bone, nor the second. She’s broken fingers and toes and a rib during trainings. But at the Tower you never had to deal with it alone, and if you were lucky enough, you’d even get a pill to ease the pain or some ice... 

When she tries to push the bone back in place, an unbearable pain stops her from doing so. Gritting her teeth, she tries again. Her jaw tightened so much while she tried not to scream, she fears the teeth would just crumble to dust. Her eyes well with unshed tears when the bone seems to click in place. A string of curses is muttered under her breath while struggling to put the jacket back on. The rest of the spare t-shirt is converted into an improvised arm sling until she can treat it properly.  

Collecting her stuff, she returns to the corridor that remains completely silent. 

Ahead of her, the corridor takes a sharp turn to the left. Peeking from the corner, she observes how it widens near two elevators’ metallic doors, and she can almost picture it bustling with people in the old days.  

Two wide lift doors are sided by what once might have been ostentatious vases with palm trees like she’s seen in magazines. One is lying sideways, dark potting soil spread over the floor. Indications of a small fire and singed objects close to one of the many doors on the other side, painted the wall black all the way up to the ceiling.  

This corridor is also pitch black, except from a faint light emerging through one of the furthest doors.  

Her gaze fixes on that promising natural light.  

She crosses the remaining metres and walks into an ample and illuminated space. 

Judging by the disposition of the remnants of countless desks and what she assumes once were cubicles, she’s stepped into some kind of office. A much bigger version of the one at the Tower’s fourth floor. 

Walking carefully around piles of debris and tossed carcasses of metallic furniture, she finds no sign of drones. The floor is littered with paper and ragged pieces of what she can only assume once upon a time were someone’s clothes. One of the floor-to-ceiling windows is cracked in a spiderweb pattern and another was shattered, allowing the warm desert wind to blow inside. Next to them a chair lies tilted upside down. Tiny pieces of glass are scattered on the floor, glowing with the sunbeams. 

She cannot even imagine the chaos that might have followed an attack in such confined spaces. A shiver runs down her spine. Suddenly the rules imposed at the Tower to prevent infected to get in make too much sense. 

The flutter of wings startles her. She’s not expecting birds in a fucking building. Some of them fly across the room and out into the open space. She ducks in time to not get hit by one of them. There are feathers scattered on the ground and over the desks, droppings taint every surface and what she assumes are nests are hidden on the plaster above her head and into tubular lightings. She ignores them and moves forward.  

A crunching noise beneath her boots calls her attention.  

Lying at her feet, a frame with a broken glass. Despite the spiderweb-like shape of the crack, it was possible to see the picture. A smiling woman sitting on a porch’s stairs in the company of a child, a cat and a dog. A glimpse of what life used to be. Her jaw tightens at the sight of it.  

Life in this New World lacks pictures, pets and smiles like those.  

When the world spiralled into chaos, pictures were definitely the least of anyone’s concerns. Who would even stick some big-ass photo album on a backpack, considering you even had time to pack?  

However, if you survive the End of the World, it becomes one of those sentimentalities that nag at your mind. At days when it seems her fathers’ faces have fallen into an abyss in her mind, and Brynn’s face is dangerously starting to fade, she’d give anything to have at least one picture of them. Just one. It didn’t even have to be a flattering one, just good enough to keep some part of them alive... 

Pets were never allowed at the Tower. Too noisy, people said; and over the years she almost forgot about their existence entirely. Brynn, however, remembered the old retrievers from their home. Coco and Luna. According to her, they were soft, warm and loving, and you could bury your face in their caramel fur and forget bad days at school and boys who picked on you. Malia doesn’t remember them or the sound they made, but Brynn confirmed dogs were loud – even the old ones – and so were kids. That’s probably why so many disliked them at the Tower either and you won’t see a single kid with the Raiders...  

And for the smiles, it’s not exactly people don’t smile anymore...  

Malia certainly has smiled plenty of times and even laughed! And so have others... But it seems like everyone has worry lines, even the children. The constant looking over one’s shoulder might age people beyond their years, weighing down their expression, hardening it. The horror you cannot unsee becomes engraved in the skin, steals the brightness of the eyes little by little...  

Unlike those old pictures.  

At least not in the ones they’ve usually come across, hanging at houses and proudly displayed at stores. Only once she found something remarkably similar to the looks and smiles of people in the colonies. In a pile of detritus at one of Olympus’ rooms, she found this old magazine... The inner pages were filled with pictures of refugees of some war in a place she never heard of... Displaced, threatened, starving, separated from loved ones... Experiences most of the survivors know well by now.  

Could the woman and child have survived the first hordes? And the surges that followed every seven years? Were they separated from each other, never knowing what happened to the other or were they allowed the mercy to live and die together?  

The agony of not knowing is painfully familiar. 

Almost reverently, she places the frame over a desk and keeps moving, checking for zombies... It takes only a few minutes to cover the whole floor. Thankfully she’s alone. Unfortunately, there are no other exit or external fire escape for her to climb down from this side of the building.  

That’s a big complication, considering she cannot use the one she came from. With a broken arm, using the elevator’s shaft is too risky...

Standing by the floor to ceiling windows, she presses her forehead against the warm glass and gazes at the city bathed in the late afternoon sun. Long shadows stretch over the streets bellow. Maybe a hundred drones are hidden in those darkened alleys... Soon it will be completely dark. She takes a long deep breath and curses. 

She’s trapped – at least for the night – and alone. 

Getting separated from your companions on any mission can be bad.

Getting separated on a city you’re scouting for the first time is a nightmare.  

They haven’t mapped escape routes or ruled out hazards apart from drones. One never knows if you’ll meet other survivors and of which kind... 

Down below, one of the streets is partially blocked by abandoned vehicles. A small delivery truck hit a light pole that fell and smashed its hood and cabin. Other vehicles queued behind the truck, forming a long line with about twenty cars. Some of the doors were left wide open, reminders of the rush to escape and the chaos of those days. 

Two decades have gone by, and you can always feel it hanging in the air. The tragedy. The lives lost. The stories interrupted.  

Was there anybody left to tell their stories? Does anybody remember what happened here? All those people had names, lives, pets, jobs... All that’s left of their existence are abandoned cars and lost shoes...  

If one is gone and nobody remembers them, is it the same as never existing?  

When the last of her friends die, is it what will happen? Will they fade to nothingness? Should it even matter? 

Her mind drifts to them. Troy, Angel and Eli have no idea where she is. And she has no idea if she successfully drove the zombies away from the van... How are they faring? Did they get the supplies to the van? And more importantly: are they alive? 

Hopefully they are following the plan and will be leaving soon. 

Leaving her.  

That’s how it’s supposed to be, she reminds herself. If they’re safe, it was worth it. 

Her stomach growls. The last time she ate was this morning, before leaving Olympus. While rummaging through the content of the backpack to pick one of the apples, her fingers glide over the radio Angel put together. They tested it a few times back at the colony, and it only worked within a certain range. After 10 miles it was hard to capture the signal, and the communication was ineffective. She considers how much she ran through the park till the building.  

The object is heavy in her hands, like the decision she must make.  

If she contacts them, they could come after her, which is suicide, considering all the drones.  

If she doesn’t, they won’t know she’s fine and might be looking for her, wasting precious time and resources. Besides, the idea of them worrying unnecessarily is unpleasant. She’s been there and hated it. 

The radio cracks when she turns it on, and she calls her friends’ names in a low voice. One after the other. Like a mantra.   

“Hey? Can you hear me? Troy. Eli. Angel. If you guys can hear me, I’m fine. Don’t worry. Get back to the colony.” 

The radio crackled with the strangest of noises. Malia wanted to make something out of it, to believe there were voices, familiar voices, talking back to her. But there were none. Only static. 

The hopeful part of her brain assumes they are on their way back to Olympus, getting to safety and not staying outside after nightfall... That’s the logical thing to do – even if she’d never make that choice. 

Shoving the radio in the pocket of her cargo pants, she moves away from the window and keeps herself busy. The drones are not resting if the noises somewhere above this floor are any indication. 

If anything, life taught her the impermanence of things. There’s no safety.  

Life is motion.  

So, she moves. 

First, secure the perimeter.  

Pushing a heavy cabinet, she blocks the access to one smaller section of the office that has real walls and doors instead of the paper-like partitions that are everywhere else. A room with sturdier furniture and a two-seater sofa provides a good place to rest. Once inside, she shifts through the desks’ drawers and cabinets, finding a small hidden refrigerator.  

After the task is completed, she collected two scissors that might be useful, granola bars and chocolate fabricated in the year the world collapsed, three bottles of water and one half-full of decent whiskey, judging by the way it doesn’t burn her throat when she takes a swig at it. Troy will be thrilled about that discovery. Everything gets shoved inside her backpack. For her own enjoyment and the kids at the colony, she takes notepads and a handful of pens and pencils. 

Clearing a large wooden desk, she sits atop of it with her legs crossed. The hunting knife is placed beside her, ready to use. Looking outside, she munches on one of the apples picked at the orchard. 

Even in the distance, the lines of vehicles on the roads exiting the town are visible. Decades spent in the same position, frozen in time. Living in a zombie apocalypse has taught her to see the horror beneath the quiet.  

From time to time, there’s beauty too.  

She picks up one of the notepads and takes a pencil to sketch the skyscape and hills in the yellowed pages. This is the first time she's drawn since leaving the Tower. It doesn’t matter if it’s a rough sketch. Her pencil moves quick to capture all the lines. She can better it later.  

And she must believe there’ll be a later. 

Without the sun, the sky darkens fast, and the notepad and pencil are shoved inside the backpack. She lies on her back in the couch, and stares at the ceiling. 

Waiting and doing nothing are not amongst her skills.  

Boredom turns the radio into a temptation, and she fishes the device. 

Contacting them, she tells herself, is nothing but a selfless gesture. In doing so, she puts them at ease about her whereabouts, they can stop worrying and move on... She’s not thinking about the ache in her gut of not knowing if they’re alive. It’s not about the hope of being rescued either and going back to the home they’ve built.  

In a world like theirs, why should she be so determined to survive? When their lives are basically navigating from a life-threatening situation to the next one? Isn’t it the strangest thing? To feel such helplessness and dismay daily and yet dread the possibility of an end? it makes so little sense sometimes all this effort... wouldn’t it be easier to cease to exist?  

The answer to that question she knows too well. Hope moves her. It might sound silly if she ever says it out loud... but it’s hope. It’s hope that makes her wake up every morning, work hard and take care of herself and loved ones. They live and die for one another. They survive and they hope. They work and they hope. And she hopes and hopes. For a good day. For love. For respite. For a future. For the day her toes will touch warm sands at a beach. For the cool waves swaying around her body.

This day might’ve thrown a shitload of touble at her, but she can get over it. She always does. She’ll find a way, even if now she only wishes to break down and cry. Giving up is not an option. Brynn sacrificed herself for her, and she has followed the example more than a handful of times – including this afternoon. A month ago she promised Troy to live a good life, and she’ll do exactly that.  

The memory makes her throat tighten.   

Without thinking, her hand runs over the bump and the fractured bone... and the pain settles her. Nothing much she can do now, she must wait until morning, when there’s a better chance of leaving this building unscathed... Until then, she must act. Life is motion. 

Time moves so slowly when you’re not doing chores; she remembers the times they got lockdown at the Tower and all the idle hours to fill. She and Brynn drank whatever crap beer one could get, played charades and word games, trained, and stayed silent for hours. Disrespecting the rules, Malia and Troy would often sneak into each other’s rooms, and spend some time together. Those were the best moments... The memories and the things left unsaid almost choke her. She’s faced zombies and more danger than her mind could’ve anticipated before leaving the Tower, and yet... the idea of telling him how much she loves him, how much she’s loved him for years is terrifying. 

A bitter laugh gets trapped in her throat, and it’s hard to breath. Her hand presses against the back of her neck, it rubs the muscles, trying to alleviate the tension. 

With each passing minute, fighting the idea of using the radio becomes harder. She wants them to pick up, to listen to their voices, even if it’s the last time.  

If they do pick up, it means they are close, when they should’ve left. And she can’t bear the thought of being the reason of them dying. 

What’s left unsaid, does it even matter now? If either of them does not see another day, do words change what they feel? Is it more bearable to hold it in, to not name what it is? Would the loss feel less devastating without the words weighting on it? 

“What a fucked up world,” she mutters under her breath. 

She fidgets with the radio, letting the static fill the silence for a few minutes. Then she speaks again. This time, she’s just calling Troy over and over. The minutes elapse, and she’s just rambling to the hissing device. 

“Troy... if you’re listening... it’s me... I... I’m... fine... Don’t worry. I’ll make it back to the colony when I can,” she pauses, considering who is she lying to. Even if she makes all the way down, there’s no guarantee she’ll ever make to the colony by herself.  

Another family lost. 

She sighs, and the truth pours out of her mouth like a river, “Troy, I’m hurt and trapped... but I’m safe for now... there’s no drones here... but the lower floors are packed with... I don’t know... a hundred of them, maybe... I cannot go back... I’m at the twenty-second floor... it’s insanely high! You’d love the view! I need to thank Eli for bugging me to run every morning or I wouldn’t have made this far... I can see most of the city... I’m at Baker Street... and I’ve got water... and food... but I’m... but... I’m so fucking scared. You can’t die. I promised to take care of you... but... I hope you’re... okay... all of you... there’s so much I wanted to tell you... damn... This is stupid! There’s nobody out there!” She growled with frustration, and the radio hissed. 

“Malia! I hear you! Can – Can you hear me?” Troy’s voice echoed before she turned the radio off, and it washed the tension off her body instantly. 

“Yes!” she cries, “I can hear you!”  

“We were so worried...” There’s a clear sign of relief in his tone the radio statics couldn’t hide. “The radio was cutting off... and you didn’t hear us. Are you okay?” 

Before she could answer, Angel asked, “Where are you exactly on Baker St.?” 

Apparently, they have been listening to her, but she couldn’t hear them.  

“Tell us exactly where you are, Angel’s starting the van. Just keep talking to me, Maly!” 

They are coming for her. They are coming. They are family. They are her people. They are not lost. They are not leaving her... They are coming to a building infested with a hundred drones. They’ll die because of her. Her heart tightens. A rush of emotions blurs her vision. 

“No!” She won’t let anybody else risk their lives to save hers. “You can’t!” 

“What? Of course we can!” Troy shouts, probably fearing what she’ll say. “We’re getting you out of there now.” 

“There are too many drones! And at least one scout. There’s no way I can go back down... they fucked up my arm...” 

“You got bitten?” Eli’s voice echoes louder than Troy’s.  

“My arm is broken... I can’t use the crossbow.” 

“What about your gun? Just shoot those z-bag right between the eyes!” 

“I got five bullets left... it’s useless with that many... and the noise would just draw even more... I’m staying here tonight... And you guys must go home... Save fuel and go back. I’ll be alright. I’ve supplies. Have you seen how many abandoned cars? I got my eyes on a convertible,” she says lightly, even though her throat is tightening and her vision blurred. 

The radio cracked, and there was a long silence before Eli spoke again. “We won’t leave you.”  

“Sure, you will,” Malia tasted the salt of the tears on her lips. “Go.” 

“No.” 

Wiping the tears streaming down her cheeks, her voice started to crack, “You know the rules, Eli... Just... do what must be done... keep everyone safe. It’s up to you now.” 

“Malia,” Eli’s voice was laced with a kind of pleading Malia never heard. “What about keeping you safe?” 

“Have I thanked you for training with me? You’d be proud. Twenty-two floors, Eli. A gazillion steps. And no zombie got even close...” A low chuckle lace her words and there’s only statics on the radio. Maybe they lost the signal. 

“Hey! Why does only he get a thank you? What about all that cardio we do together?” Troy’s voice cannot hide the uneasiness.  

They are stalling, expecting her to change her mind...   

“And Troy? I found the roller rink... It’s beside a comic book store, you just go past –”  

“Don’t just ruin the surprise!” he cuts her off but his voice is higher and wavering with emotion. “You’ll take me there. We’ll come find you and then I’ll dazzle you with my incredible moves!” 

When her reply doesn’t come, Troy calls her name softly at first and then with desperation, and Eli and Angel’s voices are almost muffled by the rumble of the van’s engine. She ignores them and the pang in her stomach. 

“Angel, floor it,” Malia whispers, turning the radio off to not hear their protests.  

Willing herself to stop crying, the tears are wiped in a brusque way against the fabric of her jacket.  

They’re alive, so why’s she crying? 

Crying is not the answer. It never is. If she starts to cry alone for all the losses and pain within, the things that have never been and never will be, all that’s left unsaid, she’ll probably never stop. And those are dangerous thoughts. The kind of thought that makes her touch her pocket... 

Biting the inside of her cheek until she tastes blood, she forces herself to focus on anything else, like the fact she’s still alive and that no amount of zombie or disappointment can shut up the growl of her stomach. She’s alive. She’ll endure. She always does. Maybe this time around, she’ll have to do it alone. It’s good. She likes a challenge. 

Munching on one the rest of the apple, she contemplates the stars peppering the sky over the desert hills outside the city. That’s one of her favorite things about being outside the Tower: looking at the sky and the stars. If there’s a full moon tonight, she might just fucking cry with happiness then. 

Complete darkness has engulfed the world.  

Malia decided to keep the flashlight off to save the batteries and to not give away her location. The darkness and silence left her too long with her own thoughts. But there's nothing else to do... 

Besides the five bullets in the cylinder, there’s one inside her jacket pocket – the same one she’s keeping there since the night Brynn supposedly died at Eli’s cabin. 

If it comes to it, she’d rather die than let them have a piece of her... It’s not that she’s eager to die or anything. Especially not now when, despite the chaos  and losses, she is finally living. She’s got a taste of what life is supposed to be like beyond surviving: planning a future and basking in the sun and eating a piece of ripe fruit... and waking up and seeing Troy’s face first thing every morning...  

Her heart tightens. Troy helped her feel alive after Brynn died, he reignited her hope... and she hasn’t said she loves him... It’s a silly thought. Do words really matter? Would it make a difference if she said and died the next day, not keeping the promise to go back to him? 

The bullet is cold against her fingers.  

One for herself, if it comes to this. Dying is not the worst thing when turning into a zombie is a real threat.  

Somewhere in the building, a loud screech resounds, chilling the blood in her veins.  

She hugs herself, reminding herself if she keeps quiet, she'll be safe. Finally, she let sleep take over.  

Something heavy thumps outside.

Then a soft voice calls her name, the whisper breaks into her dreamless sleep. Her eyes flutter open. It’s still dark outside. She’s still all alone. The radio is silent. 

“Malia.” 

It's definitely her name and sounds like Troy. Maybe she’s hallucinating. 

There’s a flash of light underneath the door.  

She gets up and crosses the room to stand closer to the cabinet blocking the doors, and listens.  

“Malia. Where are you?” 

This time she hears it clearly. It’s Troy. She must be dreaming. 

“Troy?” she whispers, “Is that you?”  

The sound of footsteps halt. Her voice is enough to summon him straight to where she is standing.   

Pushing the cabinet aside, she cracks the door open, and the flashlight almost blinds her. The white light travels from her face to her feet. The flashlight hits the ground when his cold hands raise to cup her cheeks. 

“It’s you! It’s really you...” Troy’s voice is barely a whisper, and his gaze softens at the sight of her.  

“What are you doing here?” 

“Saving you, if my dramatic entrance didn’t make it abundantly clear...”  

With one arm around her waist, carefully avoiding her injured arm, he pulls her closer and buries his face in her neck, breathing out his relief. 

“Why would you risk coming for me?” she whispers against his ear. “I told you to go!” 

He raises his head to face her, a slow winning smile stretches his lips. “Baby, in case you haven’t noticed, that’s what I do! I always come back for you. I did at those zombie-infested woods, at the amusement park... I'll always come to you... You’re my best friend. My person. My family. I love you. I don’t think I ever loved anyone like I love you... How could I go on living knowing that – ” 

Once her brain processed the three words and what he’s saying, Malia doesn’t let him finish, kissing his lips with unusual gentleness. The kiss is unrushed, and the same words are whispered against his lips.  

“Say it again,” he pleads amongst soft kisses placed against the corner of her mouth. 

“I love you, Troy.”

Her hand caresses his cheek, and her thumb brushes against his lower lip, tracing his smile.

“It’s a shame now were both turning into zombie food...” 

“Where’s your optimism?” 

“I probably dropped it during my escape...” 

His mouth stretches with a grin, and he reluctantly steps away from her. 

“You certainly underestimate me. Do you think I’d come without a rescue plan?”

His eyebrows raised and even in the dim light she knows his eyes are sparkling with mischief. Kneeling, he grabbed the flashlight from the place it was lying next to their feet and went to the windows. His hands swirled, drawing the darkness with the light.  

As if on cue, the roar of an engine resounded somewhere below, followed by a honk she’d recognize even in her sleep. 

On the street, the van’s tyres screeched when swerved around the corner, allowing them a glimpse of Angel driving and screaming at the top of her lungs what she can only assume is a string of swearing at those fucking drones.  

“What’s she doing?” Malia mumbles.  

“You’ll see.” 

A swarm of zombies poured out of the building, shattering the remaining glasses of the lobby on their way out of the building to follow the noise. 

Swerving to the left, the van disappears.  

“What the hell! Have you guys lost –” 

“Wait. Almost there...” 

A few minutes pass, before loud music blasts in the distance.  

Troy points at an illuminated point in the far left. 

“The stadium.”  

Malia’s eyes identified the place right before the explosion. The glowing red lighted the darkness for an instant before being replaced by a column of thick smoke like tendrils on their way to reach the moon. 

“Fuck me!” 

“Oh! I will, but not here. We're on a tight schedule.” He chuckled, turning around to face her. “Impressed?” 

“Are you trying to impress me, Hassan?” 

Troy’s arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her to a sideways embrace. “We’re living on borrowed time, Maly... and it doesn’t matter if I have twenty seconds or twenty years... I want to spend them all with you... So, no, I’m not trying to impress you. I’m trying to take you home. It sounds nice, doesn’t it? Home.” 

“It sounds perfect.”

She kisses him one last time, and they move on with the plan.

[rowinablx]

This is Our World: 2

@atiny-angel @axelwolf8109 @the-iridescent-phoenix @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @lynspumpkinpatch @epickiya722 @greek-freak101 @thefandomlifechoseus @jackiequick

Note: Eli is ten but I couldn't find any gifs of a young Vince, deal with itttttt

"Whoever let Chris Argent buy the Daily Planet can rot in hell" Stiles cursed. Derek grabbed his hand.

"He won't fire you, you won a Pulitzer prize" He whispered. "But what about you Der?"

"I have other activities" He winked. "Mr. Hale? Can I see you in my office?" Chris Argent called out. Derek kissed Stiles' head and walked off

------

"Are you fuckin kidding me?!" Stiles kicked the vending machine, Derek tilted it forward just a bit so he could get his candy.

"He fired you and acts all sad about it like he's not in charge and decides everything!"

"Calm down baby, this won't be that bad" "Don't tell me to calm down" Stiles glared. Derek raised his hands in surrender. Stiles was scarier than most of the villains he fought sometimes.

His phone rang and he answered it with a frown.

"Hey Cora" Stiles tried not to listen. Derek dropped his phone and went still. "Derek?" Stiles grabbed his head. There weren't a lot of this that made his husband go into shock.

He picked up the phone. "What's wrong?" "Stiles?" Cora sniffed. "What happened?"

"Laura's dead"

------

Derek felt like a child again, when Talia died. The only thing keeping him from collapsing or going into a Kryptonian rage was Stiles hugging him.

"A car accident? Aunt Laura wasn't a bad driver" Jackson smacked Scott on the head.

"Ow!"

"Derek" A old high school friend named Erica Reyes hugged him close. "I'm so sorry"

"Thanks Erica" He said in a small voice. "So they know what happened?" "My dad's looking into it" Stiles said.

Derek didn't even listen, he looked at his boys and just sighed.

"When are we going home?" Eli whined. Jackson pulled his little brother into a hug.

"Soon bud"

Derek sighed and took off his glasses covering his eyes and rubbing his forehead. "This is stressing me out. Peter's not even here"

Stiles hugged him again. "Maybe he's mourning in his own way"

------

"Jackson, we're gonna get in trouble. Dad and Papa always told us to stay away from the barn" "Don't you wanna know why? Besides Eli would tell Dad and then we'd all be in trouble"

Eli stuck his tongue out. Jackson turned on his phone flashlight and looked around.

"Hmm yes this is a barn" "Shut up Scott" "Look!" Eli ran off. "Eli!" Jackson heard a strange humming and grabbed a crowbar. "Jackie!" "Scotty" Jackson replied mockingly.

He broke the lock and opened the door and climbed down. "We're gonna be so grounded"

"What the..." Jackson spotted a spaceship. Eli whimpered and hugged into Scott's side. Jackson picked up what looked like a silver rock. "This is weird"

Scott touched it, Eli did too.

Jackson went nauseous and went back up, Scott followed carrying their little brother. "I feel really sick" "It's the guilt getting to you because we disobeyed Dad at Aunt Laura's funeral"

"Shut up!" Jackson screamed, a sonic wave shooting out from him, causing a support beam in the barn to collapse, sending metal pipes crashing down. Scott immediately put himself on top of his brothers.

Derek heard everything and ran off.

Stiles bolted after him. "Boys!" Derek moved the pipes with little effort. Scott was completely unharmed. "Are you okay?" Stiles picked them up and hugged Eli.

"Yeah" Jackson said, Scott nodding. "Good" Derek grabbed them both by their hair. "Because you are grounded for a week for breaking a rule and almost getting your brother hurt!"

"Ow ow ow" "Dad that hurts!" Derek dragged the twins out. "You're not grounded monkey" Stiles assured. "You were gonna tell us anyways right?" He grinned.

"Yeah!"

[stalkedbytrains]

The Riddles of a Sphinx

It seems like everyone else got paired with a more helpful companion. Eli knew a couple of people with dragons, there were even a few unicorns roaming around the area with their riders’ noses stuck permanently up in the air; hell, he was even friends with a badass chick who had a griffon! A griffon! It is a combination of like three different animals and it is all deadly and graceful.

Why did he have to get stuck with a sphinx?

Don’t get him wrong, Eli loved Klea. She was a great companion. It was just that he could never get her to do anything. So many riddles. And Eli was awful at riddles. Like not just bad at them, he was atrocious.

He had gotten Klea’s egg when he was five (like all kids do), and the adorable lioness bodied, girl face creature instantly bonded with the small boy. At the time he was excited, he had gotten a sphinx! No one else he knew had a sphinx. He was special, and Klea was special. The pair grew up together and had lots of fun and even more adventures. When he was seven and Klea was two, she was able to speak in simple riddles. At the time he was good at the simple riddles.

But as the pair grew up the riddles had gotten harder. Eli was not a clever man, and it was now impossible for him to get his sphinx to do anything.

In fact, he was twenty-two at the current time, and was trying to figure out something to wear out that night.

“Klea?” he asked as he looked at his disheveled and mildly attractive face. “Can you grab me the dark jeans from my closet.”

The sphinx was currently occupying almost all of Eli’s bed. Klea’s dark brown eyes narrowed on Eli’s back.

“What’s the best way to keep a hat from falling off your head?” she asked in that deep, almost purring tone of voice that she had.

“By not having a hat,” Eli said.

“Wrong.”

Eli let out a long and loud, “Ugh. Why can’t you ever just be helpful?”

Klea frowned and stretched out on the bed, letting her large eagle wings expand to almost their full wingspan. “It’s my nature. I can’t do anything you ask until you answer the riddle. I don’t like it any more than you do. You know this, we’ve been over it a million times.”

“I know. I was being rhetorical,” Eli moaned as he walked around the wings and carefully avoided stepping on Klea’s tail.

He got the jeans out of the closet, along with a t-shirt that was hanging up next to them. After dressing he looked at himself in the mirror, and tried to flatten his dirty blond hair.

“How do I look?” he asked.

“Acceptable,” Klea responded lazily. Her eyes were closed and she looked like she was about to fall asleep.

Eli frowned.

“What are you so concerned about anyways?” the sphinx asked.

“What are the two things you can never eat for breakfast?” Eli asked back mockingly.

“Lunch and dinner,” Klea responded and then waited patiently for him to answer.

“We are going out tonight. The whole gang is supposed to be there,” Eli said. “Except that Angela and Ste already canceled. Phil is going to be his usual flakey self. Mark and Jacob will be all over each other so who can really say that they’ll even be there.” He sighed. “And then Maia will be there.”

Klea opened her eyes and studied her companion. “This is the woman you fancy, yes?”

Eli nodded. “She’s the one with the griffon.”

Klea nodded. She climbed off the bed, which squeaked in protest. She put her head on Eli’s shoulder. “You shall be fine.”

“Yeah, sure,” Eli sighed as he gave the sphinx a scratch under the chin. The large lioness purred. “Ready to go?”

“Almost,” Klea said as she licked the side of Eli’s head a few times to get his hair to sit just right. It looked like the stylish ‘just got out of bed but I showered and gelled my hair so it will look like I got out of bed when I actually didn’t’ look. “Better.”

Eli smiled. “Thanks. And I’m sorry about before.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Any chance you can give me a ride to bar?” he asked.

“I am at the beginning of the end, the end of every place. I am at the beginning of all eternity, the end of time of space. What am I?” she asked. She would very much like to give her friend a ride, to take off into the sky on her massive and impressive wings, so Klea gave Eli an easy riddle. Something even a child could get.

 “Your mom,” Eli said.

The sphinx chuckled. “No, but that was funny.”

“Thanks. Any chance I can get a hint?”

“No.”

“I thought not. I can do with a walk anyways.”

Twenty minutes later, Eli and Klea sat outside at the bar’s patio. He was drinking a rum and coke while Klea had a small saucer of Egyptian honey beer she would lap at every now and again.

Mark and Jacob were there, but they were already engaged in a very quiet, very close conversation punctuated by awkwardly making out in front of Eli. Their companions, a Pegasus and a Iele (a kind of nature nymph) were also getting along great, but leaving Klea to sip her beer with Eli awkwardly alone in company.

By the end of his first drink, and no sign of the pretty Maia or the impressive griffon, Eli was going to quietly excuse himself when the chair next to him was pulled out and Maia sat down next to him with a large beer glass.

“They’re already going at it, huh?” she asked as she briefly watched Mark and Jacob being all touchy-feely.

“Yeah,” Eli replied. “At least there is someone else here to share my pain.”

“Everyone else dropped out?” Maia asked.

Eli nodded silently.

“I was about to get another drink. Possibly a shot or two. You want anything?” Eli asked.

“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” she said standing up, not wanting to spend more time watching the loving couple, who had just un-broken up for the third time.

Maia was a tall woman, but with her boots (with an impressive heal) she was even taller than Eli who proudly boasted he was over six feet tall. Her ponytailed hair was dyed white, which gave her the impression of being much older than twenty-five, and made her stunning jade green eyes positively stand out. She was incredibly attractive, and Eli felt suddenly nervous.

Klea put a paw on his back and pushed him forward a bit.

“What’s your name?” Maia asked the sphinx. “I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced.”

“Klea,” the sphinx said as she extended a massive paw to shake the woman’s tiny hand.

“I’m Maia, and this is Cheiron. Would you mind keeping him company for a bit? He gets nervous in crowds by himself,” Maia said as she pet the griffon’s feathery neck who cooed quietly into the hand.

“I take what you receive and surrender it all by waving of my flag. What am I?” Klea asked instantly.

“Sorry, if you ask her to do anything, she won’t do it until you answer a riddle,” Eli said as he blushed.

Maia just smiled and thought for a second, “A mailbox.”

“Correct,” the sphinx said with more than a little surprise and a smile. “I shall wait here with Cheiron.”

“Let’s get something to drink,” Maia said as she grabbed Eli’s arm and lead him to the bar as the two companion animals turned to each other to sniff and inspect each other the way animals do.

“I don’t see many griffons around,” Eli commented.

“Cheiron is something special,” Maia said with a smile after a shot of tequila. “What about you? I don’t see any sphinxes around.”

“Klea is my best friend, but all the riddles get pretty annoying,” Eli admitted after he let the burn of the alcohol fade. “But other than that she’s basically a big, lazy cat. Nothing, however, could ever shake the loyalty and dedication of a sphinx. I mean she’s put up with me for all these years.”

Maia smiled. “Same with Cheiron, I know I’m not the easiest person to get along with, but he’s just bared it all with constant grace.

“I propose another shot, to our companions.”

“An excellent decision.”

Eli and Maia talked the night away; he got to talk about his studies in companion animal sciences and his hope to work with the agency that handed out the eggs to every child at age five, and she got to speak about her work as an artist and the difficulty of life of being only a painter. Eli had more to drink than he usually did, which was why he was so chatty. And for that matter, so did Klea, who was found at the end of the night playfully trying to fight the mostly quiet griffon in the way only a thousand-pound lioness with eagle wings and woman’s face could.

When it came time to end the evening’s festivities, Eli bid farewell to the lovely Maia who got on her sober griffon and flew off home.

“That was an interesting evening,” Klea said as she stumbled a bit while trying to stand.

“Hehe,” Eli laughed, “drunk sphinx.”

“You’re one to talk,” she said dryly.

“Yup, I talk a lot when I drink! Ya learn something new every day. Come on let’s go home,” Eli said as the pair stumbled home.

A little while later they stumbled into the apartment, and Eli flopped on the couch.

“Klea,” he called, “I want a pizza.”

“What’s orange and sounds like a parrot?” she asked reflexively.

“A carrot!” Eli yelled with his head in a pillow.

Two minutes later Klea was struggling to open the frozen pizza box with her large lion paws. The plastic packaging was not cooperating with the paws that were easily larger than the entire pizza. Her eyes narrowed as she focused on her enemy: mass produced, frozen food commodity. Sometime later she dropped a warmish pizza on the table next to Eli’s drunk form on the couch. She crawled up on the couch and flopped on top of him.

Without looking at the pizza, Eli grabbed a piece and ate it. “It tastes like sphinx,” he muttered as he pulled out a long, tan sphinx hair.

“That’s what happens when a sphinx cooks for you,” Klea said. And then suddenly, “You solved my riddle!” She happily licked his face like a happy large cat.

“Yay me,” Eli said with a mouthful of half cooked pizza, utterly failing to grasp the ramifications of what just happened, bearing the sphinx’s show of gratitude with a calm indifference. “Klea… What should I do with Maia? I don’t think she likes me the way I like her. Give me some advice, some ancient sphinx wisdom.”

“What building has the most stories?”

“A library,” Eli said without even thinking about the question or the answer.

“She obviously likes you. You spent the entire night together. Like a date. And her griffon told me as much.”

“Griffons can speak?” Eli asked, mouth open in shock, only to close it on another slice of pizza. “I had no idea!”

“You should do it,” Klea muttered.

“We should go to bed,” Eli murmured. “Carry me.”

“I have a tongue but cannot taste. I have a soul but cannot feel. What am I?”

“A shoe. I’m still wearing them,” he said as he tried to pry off his shoes, while still being covered by a large, drunk sphinx.

Klea opened her eyes halfway, and got off of Eli and the couch. She grabbed his shirt in her teeth and, with some delicate drunk maneuvering, put him on her back. She padded into the bedroom and flopped on the bed.

Eli didn’t use blankets ever, since the sphinx next to him was practically a furnace. Klea put one large arm around him and the pair fell asleep.

When they woke up in the afternoon, Eli looked at the mangled remains of what could have once been a pizza.

“Who made food last night?” he asked.

Klea looked up at him with tired eyes. “I think I did.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t you ask me to?”

“Then why don’t you clean up after yourself?” Eli asked.

“I am lighter than a feather and yet the strongest man cannot hold me for more than five minutes. What am I?” Klea asked as she laid down on the carpeted floor in a sunbeam.

“My bladder,” Eli said as he stomped off to the bathroom.

“Wrong,” Klea said as she fell back asleep.

[xiaq]

I'm sorry, I'm the anon who asked about Ellie! She's one of the minor characters in Free From Falling, the one Matts' brother Aaron has a crush on! I like reading the stuff you write back to back, and so the parallels between Eddie and her just stuck out to me (Super-super senior, exceedingly cool, pretty voice that doesn't go with her persona, smart but doesn't think so, wants to drop out but can't.) Anyway maybe I'm delusional, but I wanted to ask lol! Get well soon :)

Oooh. Gotcha. I was thinking maybe it was a mistype of "Eli" and I was like...Eli predates Stranger Things and also has very little in common with Eddie, lol. That makes much more sense!

I got the idea of the super-senior bit from Eddie--because I was thinking about writing a fic that explored how awkward that must be for Eddie...having one leg still stuck in the high school world while trying to step into adult personhood with the other. I don't know if I'll ever write that fic, but I figured I'd put a bit of that awkwardness into Ellie's character, so you're right on that parallel! The rest wasn't intentional (if anything, I'd say Sydney is more like Eddie, though Sydney has also existed in my head/my notes since before Stranger Things) (perhaps there was a reason I was so drawn to him ;) )

Thanks for the well-wishes. I am no longer running a fever and can eat without crying again which means I can refinish floors. We're getting this basement done by Christmas if it kills me (mostly joking).

[leelahsrose]

HONEY. | LIL MEECH

Thank you all for the support on the last chapter! Even if it was just one note I still would of been happy! Enjoy chapter two 🫶🏾.

chapter two.

"𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡, 𝙄 𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙠 𝙞𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙨." -Eli Sostre, circa 2021.

10:30 AM

Khaleesi woke up the following morning with bags under her eyes, she was exhausted. The night life had its disadvantages but, she loves going out with Kali and helping her. The atmosphere, the people, the feeling of adrenaline. She couldn't get enough of it, it was like going on an adventure. She rolls out of bed and squints her eyes, the sunlight shining through her room was beautiful but blinding. The plain top that she has on reaches down to the middle of her thigh, her ass fills out the bottom of the shirt nicely.

She yawns, the pink thongs that she wears shows for a brief moment. Her black hair was all over the place, strands of it sticking to the side of her cheek. Khaleesi's feet were now stuck to the floor as she realizes she couldn't move, not even an inch. Her eyes remain gazing at Kamari's through the mirror in front of her. The small smile on his face said more than she could say in this moment.

"How did you find me-," He gets up quickly and pushes her gently into the wall. His finger over his mouth as he shushes her, his calm demeanor told her that he was not here to play games. Leesi's eyes began to water, her bottom lip quivering as she looks down at the gun from last night still in his waistband. "Please don't-"

"Baby, there's no reason to cry. I'm not here to hurt you." He wipes her eyes and she gradually calms down, her eyes blinking away the rest of the tears. "I just wanna know why you didn't tell me who you were at first. I had to do my own searching cause me... I know everybody that needs to be known up in this city. You and your sister, y'all new." Khaleesi watches as he sits on her bed, his voice echoing around the tall walls.

"You out here living in the suburbs and shit, you must be important. Come to find out, a nigga ain't ever seen you," Kamari stands back up to walk over and push a piece of hair behind her ear, "because you with the enemies." His voice was filled with bass, it tingled her ears.

"I don't want anything to do with you, I wasn't trying to get you in trouble. I have nothing to do with what my brother does." He creases his eyebrows together and shakes his head. "What?" Khaleesi says softly, her eyes traveling down to the bold tattoo stretched across the front part of his neck.

"You thought I came here to kill you?" Kamari's cuban was right in front of her face, she then realizes that she's practically naked on her bottom half. Khaleesi's hands reach to pull her shirt down, he grabs them swiftly. "No reason to do that, I done seen it all anyways." His lips were lingering over her ear then move over to her cheek. She couldn't turn her head to look at him, the stare he was pinning on her was causing her legs to squeeze together. "Hm, you want me to take care of that?" Kamari's voice buzzes in her ear lowly, almost causing a moan to slip from her mouth.

Khaleesi straightens up and fixes her posture, she pushes him against the chest and he backs up while staring at her. "I want you to tell me what you're doing here."

"Khaleesi Taylor, that's your name. Kali Taylor, Alicia Taylor, and Q Taylor." Kamari sits in the chair on the side of the bed, he breathes out deeply, his nostrils flaring. "You made a mistake walking up to me that night. I should've never seen you." Khaleesi's chest goes up and down steadily, her fingers fiddling with each other. Her heart pounding in her head— like how a fist knocks on a door. His legs were open and his hands were resting on the arm rests. "Cause now I gotta pursue you." He brings his thumb up to his lips and nibbles on the tip of his finger. "Damn, baby."

"You have to leave or my brother, he's going to kill you." Khaleesi didn't want to say those words but, she had to. Q is their family and he protected them fiercely. Now he's saying he's going to pursue her, she couldn't let this happen. She was surprised that he even got in easily but, her brother was away which meant his guards came and go: making it easier for him to sneak in. "You don't know who-"

“I know who your brother is, do you know who I am?" Leesi stares into his eyes and hers soften, she recognizes this man. Last night had to fly by quick for her not to notice who he was. Kamari sits up and clasps his hands together, his eyes never leaving hers. "Leesi—"

"Mari." She hesitates, her eyes searching his face throughly—Khaleesi then rushes into his arms and wraps them around his neck. "I didn't even recognize you, how did you find us?" Mari was Kali and Q's old childhood best friend, he had moved back here to his hometown when they were younger. Mari and Leesi were attached to the hip when they were teenagers, he walked her to school almost everyday to engage in one of their conversations but he was mainly friends with Q.

He was slightly older than her and basically the same age as her brother. She couldn't understand why he was on the opposite side. Why were Q and him fighting? "I didn't, you came to me." His arms were wrapped tightly around her waist, she had never felt so secure. Her hands run down the unfamiliar tattoos on his forearms, the pad of her fingers graze his cuban wristlet. "After I moved away I had to make something for my own. I was tired of taking orders from other niggas. Your brother was one of them, hate to say it."

"He's bossy, I can't disagree." Khaleesi's eyes finally meet with Kamari's. "We can't." She tries to fix her hair but, it wasn't worth it, he had already been gaping at the mess she woke up as. "You changed so much." She attempts to switch the subject, the way he conducts himself was completely different then when they were teens.

"You not ready for me yet, I get it."

"No, I'm scared of what Q will do."

"He won't know." Khaleesi stands up from his lap and walks over to her closet, she grabs a pair of sweats and turns around while pulling them up her legs. Kamari returning back into her life was crazy, insane even. She believed she would never lay eyes on him again. Crazy how your life can change with one person, what was the universe up to? “He didn't know about us when we were younger."

"We kissed once and maybe dated for a while, we can't continue this, Mari. I know you want other girls."

“Wait a damn minute, where this coming from?"

"You've always had options and I know you still do. I'm just saying why would you want to sit here and risk your life like this?!" Khaleesi tilts her head towards him, waiting for his answer.

"I feel like we've been given a second chance right now. When I seen you last night... fuck another weak bitch if she ain't you." They had went through situations together when they were younger that caused them to be pushed together more closely. She's far from weak, Khaleesi took care of him when his parents couldn't even know about what him and her brother did in the streets.

"He's dangerous, worse than when we were young."

“Stop acting like I'm not." He sits forward, his sight not leaving Khaleesi. "I'm not finna argue with you about this, I want what I want." The sunlight hits her eyes gently, the light brown in her orbs was ethereal. He leans back once more, his fingers grazing the stubble on his chin. "When's the last time we had sex?" Leesi's eyes look up at him quickly, sure, they took each other's virginity: that was years ago. Kamari stands up and takes small steps towards her, he eventually is standing face-to-face with Khaleesi.

"You didn't even last." Kamari scoffs and places a soft kiss on her forehead, Khaleesi feels a shiver erupt all the way down to her feet. Her eyes closed for a second then open back up, his lips felt smooth like leather.

"That's because a nigga was young, no experience whatsoever."

"You telling me you got better?" He moves his hands up to either side of her head, his palms flat on the wall. Khaleesi angles her head down to the right, she traces her finger up Kamari's clothed chest then back down slowly. His eyes follow her finger then land back on her eyes.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." The way he spoke to her was aggressive-like but, gingerly. He had definitely gained experience and it was making Khaleesi nervous. Of course she had slept with men of her own but, he was different, her first love: first everything. "Lame ass niggas can't handle you, you too real for them. Just saying." His words were sharp, he meant everything that came from his lips. "Think about it." Khaleesi presses herself against the wall as Kamari turns around and walks toward the balcony.

"You're going to hurt yourself leaving that way."

"How you think I got in?" He grins, his stunning smile showing itself. And with that, he disappears over the banister. Khaleesi smooths down her hair, she breathes heavily. It was the only audible sound in the room, she blinks her eyes then glances at the door. Everyone's still sleep? Her mind wonders. She walks over and twists the knob, on the other side, Kali stands in the slither of space.

"What the hell are you doing?" Kali pushes herself in and slams the door behind her.

"I know you didn't let that nigga in?!"

"Bitch, he showed up here this morning, thanks to you!" Kali arches her lip then rolls her eyes, she takes the time to re-tie the strings of her bonnet. "It's Mari."

"I know, I heard him. What does he want with you?"

"He wants to finish what we had." Her sister furrows her eyebrows together and laughs. "I'm serious."

"Fuck no, Q is going to kill him and you." She moves close to Khaleesi and takes ahold of her wrist. "You need to get rid of him before Q gets back. Leesi, are you hearing me?" Khaleesi felt frustrated, she didn't know what she wanted to do. A do-over with Kamari sounds so good, so tempting but dangerous. Forbidden. He didn't care for danger. That was the problem.

"Okay. I understand."

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Imagine: bring lunch to Derek, and you trying to convince Scott that what he was doing was a bad Idea. Derek had to step in between the two of you when it got too heated.

It was pretty typical for Derek to forget his lunch, even those they had a small fridge full of somewhat decent food. you always had the time to go deliver him, Lunch. you secretly think he "forgets" just so he could see you mid-day. you were debuting on just telling him to stop packing his lunch bag that you would make something for him. but He does try to remember he makes the lunch the night before, pulls it out of the fridge in the morning next to Eli's Lunch Kit. then he kisses you goodbye and then just gets distracted. Is he forget or does he pull this Move so he could see you Mid Day? he's always in a better mood once he sees you. you choose to live in the romantic fantasy that he just misses you and wants to see you mid-day. vs the fact he has a million things going on in his head and he just simply forgets.

getting to the garage you notice Derek under a truck shirtless as you whistled. at him. he chuckled softly he knew it was you from the scent but hearing you whistle. eh couldn't believe even after all these years of marriage you still cat call him. "Hey sexy Man, can I be your mechanic? Because I am want to go under you and get dirty?" Derek chuckled pulling himself out of under the truck as you smiled holding his lunch. he chuckled getting up as he spoke, 'that was awful. Not one of your better ones." you chuckled softly, "I heard you laugh." he smiled stepping over kissing your lips softly 'thanks for bringing me my lunch."

you smiled softly, "Any time baby."

he smiled at that as you spoke, 'but where is your shirt?"

"got caught under a ridge in the truck and is ripped., and my spare is a good shirt so I'll get cleaned up before coming home." you nodded your head touching his abs. softly. he smiled weakly. the tender moment was over when Scott and Alison Rolled up in his Half taped Car. your thoughts changed completely seeing Scott. and he's vintage car.. covered in green painters tape. "what the hell is he doing?" you both walked out. to see the mayham closer.

you and Scott use to be close friends, best of friends in high school and you were best friends with Alison in high school, but then she died, and you all grew up. and Scott- in your words 'was the most useless Alpha in the history of the world" your opinion of him only got worst when Alison returned and instead of being the almost 30 year old man. Scott decided to Take Alison from her dad.. and they were dating... Alison being a sixteen year old girl. vs. the now old scott. It was Icky. and you just. bare it. because Derek said the situation was complicated. it was a sore topic. you k new they were in town getting a car from Scott's mom but to see it was the Alpaca you were stunned hs mom was giving it to Scott.

"what's with the tape?'" you asked as Scott got out as he spoke, 'oh im taking the car to a car show down in La and I wanted the paint to be in perfect condition.."

"I gotta go to the washroom.." Alison said out loud as Derek showed her. as you spoke, "wouldn't the painter tape.. Ruin it? how many rolls did you go thru?"

"20. but it's not going to ruin it! trust me."

your mouth fell slightly hearing that as you spoke, "it's the cheap painter tape. that leaks.. the Sun and the sticky part on the tape.. Scott.. that doesn't sounds like a good idea."

Scott just rolled his eyes at you as Derek asked about the Car show. trying to defuse the tension. your mind was just playing over all the horrible things the Tape will do to you Alpha. you loved that car.

for a short time after graduation when Scott was pretending to be a great alpha and stuck around town. to help with Liam and the pack. you stuck around too. Not for the pack. your gran needed help and you took a year off school to help her. back when you were best friends with Scott. you use to hang out every day.

you were leaning against his Car waiting for Scott to come back from the coffee shop he was getting you both hot chocolate and were going to go over what to do with Liam who just got caught in wolf form by the mayor and was putting out a huge reward to "catch the beast." 10 thousand dollars. you almost debuted taking a wolf selfie of yourself in the woods. just to collect the money for your gran. Scott was furious at Liam. you however remembered ALL the times you screwed up, Scott screwed up.. like the time when you thought it was a good idea. to jump at Derek and kiss him. before he threw you across the lacrosse field. it was near the full Moon. your first one. and you were wildly unprepared for your body to feel like it being pricked by live wires.

Did you think about that Hot kiss for WEEKS? afterwards? Yes you did.

Derek called you a idiot and promised you that you and him would NEVER happen!

It Only made sense and was fair that when Derek arrived that cold winter day while Scott was inside the Cafe that he came walking over to you. and not giving you any warning before he grabbed your face and softly pushed you back against the Car and gave you kiss that made your knees go weak and your toes curl. unlike Derek when you kissed him years ago. you didn't pull back you wrapped your arms around him. and you stayed like that for several minutes until Scott screamed to get off the car.

you loved that Car. Derek asked you out while you were leaning against the car catching your breath. So to see it Now.. Covered. completely in green tape.. you felt a ping of sadness.. you weren't a Mechanic, Nor were you a genius but the Hot Summer Sun, Plus that tape hitting the Hot metal car.. it wasn't going to end well.

Scott and Alison soon left. after you tried again to reason with Scott saying what he was doing was a bad idea. but he refused to listen. you turned to Derek as he spoke, "let it go."

"Am I crazy? Derek? That screams like a stupid idea."

"your right- he's going to destroy the car."

"Then Why didn't you say anything? you love that car. we made out against that car hundreds of times."

Derek sighed heavily rubbing his face stepping over pulling you into a side hug as he spoke, " Scott said to butt out, so I did.. Scott needs to learn to listen to his pack. this is a lesson."

you simply rolled your eyes as Derek offered to make out against is truck to make you feel better you laughed shoving him away as you promised to meet him at home. Where Derek can get all Dirty there.. with Finishing the gardening. he promised to finish yesterday.

Alison called a few days later. as you answered.

"hey Y/N, does Derek do paint jobs?'

"No why?"

"The Car-.. the Sun or the heat must of combined between the Sun and the heat from the car itself. it lifted almost all of the paint right off. Scott is furious."

'I told him that would happen."

"yea- he's not in the funny haha told you so yet. he's furious."

"God.. aren't custom paint jobs. thousands? of dollars?"

"DOES DEREK KNOW SOMEONE WHO'S CHEAP TO DO IT?"

hearing scott screaming in the background you turned to Derek as he shook his head, "No. he's shaking his head no."

then the line went dead.. you put your phone down till a photo appeared to see the damage of the car. you showed it to Derek as he said he deserved that for being scott. you chuckled softly agreeing as you went on your day..

now learning a valuable lesson. dont put painter's tape on your Car in the middle of summer, during a heat wave.

[josephseedismyfather]

11, 17, 29 from the fc5 questionnaire, for all of the babes if you want 🤍

I'm so so sorry for the delay in response! I'm so excited to share more of the babes! Thank you! 🥰 I'm going to answer for all 3 of them, since you gave me the option!

This post definitely has spoilers, just a heads-up for anyone reading! Questions from this post.

11. First thoughts on the Seed family?

As we know, Harley's first encounter with a Seed is Jacob. Their fic starts well before the events of FC5, more towards when the PEG first moved into Hope County, and she has no idea he's in a cult. She finds him intimidating but intriguing. Eventually, there are some traumatic events and she's blindsided by the fact that Eden's Gate exists, and that's when she finally meets John and Joseph. Due to the circumstances regarding how she meets them, she abhors John and isn't all that keen on Joseph, either. Her first thoughts on Faith are that she's too nice, something's a little off, but also, she's a little jealous of how Jacob treats her (not giving too many details here 😏). Collectively, once she realizes everyone's in the cult, the idea of the Seeds scares the shit out of her. Evangeline's fic also starts out before the events of FC5. Her first encounter with a Seed is Joseph. She comes to him for help, and she finds him well-spoken, warm, and charismatic. Initially, she thinks John tries a little too hard, and wonders why his smile doesn't reach his eyes. She is drawn to Jacob and finds his presence calming. Faith makes her feel welcome. Austin. Oh boy. Austin has a long, complicated history with Johnny. They grew up together and had a very turbulent, off-and-on "relationship" that picks right back up when Austin is transferred to Hope County. He doesn't have much recollection of Joseph and Jacob from childhood, but when he sees them for the first time as The Dep, he finds Joseph full of shit and thinks Jacob is itching for a fight. He is most concerned about Faith though, feeling like she's the cagiest of them all.

17. From the White Tail militia which one do they get along with?

Harley has a little thing for Wheaty. She loves his music collection and they never run out of things to talk about when they're around each other. Evangeline does not spend a lot of time with the Whitetails, but of the group, she prefers to deal with Eli. She finds him methodical and appreciates his conviction. Austin would say he likes Tammy. He thinks she's a riot and he likes how she doesn't seem to take much shit. Although the truth is he doesn't care enough to find out whether or not he gets along with anybody.

29. How do they feel at the end of all the game events?

My fics have an alternate ending to the game. Harley is scared as hell and not thrilled to be stuck in a bunker with a bunch of cultists. Even less thrilled to be stuck with Jacob, as they are in a particularly rough spot in their relationship when the bombs drop. But even worse than that, the worst thing she could possibly think of happens - she's also stuck with John. Evangeline is surprised when the bombs go off. She wasn't completely convinced Joseph was right, but this actually solidifies her feelings about him. She also begins to feel like she has a place in the PEG, and like she's found her true purpose. She also ends up getting closer to Austin - who is in the bunker with her and Joseph. Austin's ending is the closest to canon - he ends up in the bunker with Joseph, and Evangeline. He's furious. Confused as hell. Completely cut off from Johnny. Goes through a huge transformation. 😉 For the record, all the babes return. The individual fics will end at the Collapse, and I will pick up all three storylines in a "bunker years" fic before continuing onto a New Dawn fic. 😁