#to be brought back alive and hunters go after em......

[mercless]

🗡 mad cowboy disease....

[gaysjureido]

#3 for Leo and both Ronjas :)

3. Ask them to describe their love interest. @gaymarasov

Leonia

Leo thinks Esther is the kindest, gentlest soul she has ever come across. Despite Leo's disgust upon meeting her for the first time, Esther was never unkind to her. She kept her fed and clothed and clean in her time in the dungeons, and she protected her from the wrath of her mother when she came home to find a turned hunter in her basement.

Originally, she found Esther's sweet disposition to be annoying, because how could anyone in a world like this be so kind? But it became clear to Leo that Esther had been raised in kindness, and thus, gave that kindness back wherever she could, even when times were hard and cold and everything had gone wrong.

It's rubbed off on Leo now too. Where before, she was more like her father--cold, uninterested in human connection outside her family, and quick to make snap decisions about people--she now tries to see the best in people and she tries to lead with kindness first, before turning to aggression.

She'll lay her life down for Esther in a heartbeat, though she hopes it will never come to that because she never wants to leave her alone and without her.

Ronja Sov

Ronja wouldn't call Strand a love interest, per se, because they're not dating or anything like that. They spend time together, they sleep together, sure, but that's all! She does love like her a lot, though.

She enjoys Strand's presence more than anything. Just sitting with her in her ship is nice. She loves to shoot shit with her, whether that's on Earth or in the Reef. One day, she'll get her on a horse, and tell her "see it's so much better than a Sparrow".

Feelings are hard, though. You can thank Mara for passing that particular neurosis onto her.

She also finds her to be a rock to keep her steady. It's a blessing to have, after almost a decade of turmoil that has left Ronja feeling like she's just about to be swept out to sea. Strand is the thing she knows she can always hold onto, even if they're not physically together.

Ronja Kinholm

Oh, what a whirlwind, Ronja and Em.

She was kidnapped, her mentor killed during the act, and then brought to a place that upended just about every belief she had about the world. And when Em was about to be taken from her for good, that was when she realized she couldn't go on without her in her life.

Em gave her the freedom she thought the Mage Guild could give her. Em is the reason she is still alive, ultimately, because if she had remained in Gaegia, the Mage Guild would have eventually bent to the will of the Prince, and she wouldn't have wanted to live as his wife.

Em is the husband any woman would want, without being a man, and that is perfect for Ronja. She keeps her safe, she keeps her warm in the cold winters of the North, she couldn't be more perfect in Ronja's eye.

Ronja finds her prowess with an axe or a sword to be attractive, rather than frightening. It proves to her that Em can keep her and their future children safe from harm, and she knows that that strength would never be turned on her... unless she wants it to be ;)

And she's roguishly handsome too. What more could a woman want?

[carrved]

(LAURA HARRIER, FEMALE, SHE/HER)Oh, is that EMERY QUINN? I heard the THIRTY-TWO year old is DETERMINED. But don’t let that pretty face fool you, they are also EXPLOSIVE. Makes sense seeing how they are a HITMAN in the THE CRIMSON gang.

tw: murder mention, child endangerment, violence, overall depressing :/

Full Name: Emery Eve Quinn.

Nickname: Em, Emmy.

Age: 32.

DOB: March 25th, 1992.

Hometown: San Francisco, California.

Familial: Gina Quinn (biological mother; deceased), Melinda Rooney (foster mother; presumed alive), Roger Rooney (foster father; presumed alive)

Hair color: Brown.

Eye color: Brown.

Height: 5'9.

Tattoos: Multiple sprinkled throughout her body. small dainty things. they don't hold a lot of meaning.

Scars: Multiple scattered around. each one has a story. she's not to keen on sharing why.

Piercings: Triple ear piercing.

Sexuality: Bisexual (leans towards men).

Relationship Status: Engaged.

Occupation: Hitman. Socialite.

tldr; Emery Quinn has a tragic backstory that makes her tough as nails. She always felt out of control of her own life. It's a lot easier to call the shots when you have a gun, which is why she does what she does. Her day job is being a beautiful, rich, NYC socialiate. Her evening job is working as a hitman for the Crimsons, which fuels her day job. She's very Lana Del Rey coded.

She had humble beginnings. A mother who worked late and a father who partied hard. He always in and out, never staying too long. When he did come around, he always brought chaos. One day, a group of men come knocking on her mother’s door looking for her father. He had some unpaid debts, her mother paid for them with her life. There was no witnesses except for scared little Emery, who was four years old at the time. She had the perfect view from the hallway closet.

Her father was never heard from again after her mother’s death. The only recollection she has of him is his name, only his last. She became a ward of the state and jumped around foster home from foster home within the Bay Area. Emery had decided at a young age, she’d never be scared again. Not like that night. She acquired some grit to her. As an elementary school student, she’d pick fights and won them. She made threats and honored them too. Part of the reason she moved so many times was because the state of California didn’t know what to do with her.

At eleven, she got placed with an older couple in the Tenderloin of San Francisco. They never had children of their own and filled that void by taking in foster children. Emery was hardly their first. Melinda Rooney was able to wedge herself inside of that cold heart of Emery’s. She didn’t see her as a menace like rest of the world did. She saw a little girl who needed a mother. That was what Melinda became for Emery. Roger wasn’t so bad either. He was a retired police officer and avid hunter. He eventually took Emery to the gun range some weekends, to teach her how to use a gun. Emery was a natural. She still remembers the first time she shot one of his pistols. That was true power in her finger tips.

Old habits die hard. When she was thirteen, Emery fell back into the wrong crowd. Doing things no thirteen year old should. One of her friends had the great idea to rob a liquor store. It’s a lot easier to steal when you’ve got a weapon. Emery stole one of Roger’s guns from the safe. When things go wrong during the robbery, Emery’s friend took the gun and shot at the store employee. They missed.

Thank God, it was her friend that shot, Roger said later that night, Emery wouldn’t have missed.

These actions had consequences. Emery got pulled from the Rooney home. It was like losing her mother all over again. This time, she kicked and screamed, trying to fight for this mother. But her efforts did nothing. She was sent off to a girl’s home. She never saw the Rooney’s again.

The entire experience hardened her. It made one thing clear t. She was never going to have a normal life. She was never going to have the things other people had. She was never going to be clean. So why even try? Through her connections, she’s exposed to the crime life of San Francisco. Scammers, drug dealers, thieves, and even a few hitmen. While they didn’t make their money honestly, they still had to put food on the table and pay their landlords every month, which Emery could expect.

When she got older, Emery joined an underground fighting ring. She fought girls her own age. She usually won. She was vicious in the ring. Though, looking at her, you wouldn’t expect much, she had enough tenacity and rage inside her that fuel her in the fights. She made enough money to support herself. She eventually made enough money to run away from her group home and live independently. Soon enough, she turned eighteen and was approached by one of these hitmen she used to know. They got her involved in their organization. Emery remembered what it was like to shoot a gun. Powerful. When she caught her first body, it was even more so.

Emery worked in SF and throughout the entire state of California. When she got an opportunity to go to New York City, she jumped at it. She begun working with the Crimsons and the rest is history.

To the naked eye, Emery Quinn is another beautiful, wealthy woman in NYC. Independently wealthy, a socialite with a trust fund, a divorcé with a generous alimony agreement. These are the lies she tells people if they ask how she affords her penthouse in Manhattan. This is how she gets into rooms with government officials. This is how she meets her fiancè. The only people who know her truth are the same ones playing the same game she is.

[kudosmyhero]

Transformers: Infiltration #6

Read Date: February 19, 2023 Cover Date: June 2006 ● Writer: Simon Furman ● Art: E.J. Su ● Colorist: John Rauch (with Simon Bork, Mark Englert, Aaron Myers, Sunder Raj, and Kevin Senft) ● Letterer: Robbie Robbins ● Editor: Chris Ryall ◦ Dan Taylor ●

**HERE BE SPOILERS: Skip ahead to the fan art/podcast to avoid spoilers

Reactions As I Read: ● heheh, my guess is Starscream is juicing to prep for Megatron's arrival ● that's Astrotrain aaaand…. Runabout. Yay for helpful headshots inside the cover! ● Starscream, you look fabulous, dah-ling ● Ratchet, in beat-up ambulance form, is heading eastbound to The Ark with Jimmy, Verity, and Hunter because Prowl wants them out of harm's way. ● Verity isn't happy about this, but Hunter and Jimmy recognize they are lucky to be alive ● GAH A WHOLE ROW OF CREEPY HOLOMATTER SMILES

● the guy on the far right is Prowl but I'm not familiar enough with the others yet to know their vehicle modes off the top of my head ● ok, the cute little Porsche-looking one, white with a thick blue stripe down the center, is Jazz ● Bumblebee radios to Prowl that Megatron has just arrived at the Oregon bunker ● Starscream is in trouble…

● Runabout, Runamuck, Thundercracker, and Astrotrain come out first. Megatron warns them to stand down, that if they fight, they will die ● they stand down

● juiced-up Starscream comes out, calling them cowards ● Ore-13 is what Starscream is souped-up on ● Megatron is… strong ● aww, Astrotrain, Thundercracker, Runamok, and Runabout are trembling as they watch the battle ● the Autobots arrive and they all agree to just watch the battle ● Starscream is starting to realize his mistake ● oof… ● oh yeah, I forgot The Ark was under Lake Michigan ● some Spcial Ops types witnessed the Autobots jumping into the lake. "The Machination wants one of these 'Transformers.' Let's go get 'em one!" ● Prowl admits Ratchet was right and it's time to call in Optimus Prime ● Hunter points out, though, that he's already here ● "Phase 1 Concluded" ● 👏👏👏👏👏

Synopsis: In the Decepticon Command Bunker in Oregon, Starscream is on the receiving end of a mega-cycle long "hit" of Ore-13. As they wait, Astrotrain and Runabout worry about what they've just heard regarding Megatron recently arriving on Earth and dispatching both Blitzwing and Skywarp in a fight. But when Starscream finally emerges from the energon chamber, he tells them both that, thanks to the Ore-13, they'll be more than ready to take him on when he comes.

Over in Iowa, Ratchet is busy taking Hunter O'Nion, Jimmy Pink, and Verity Carlo back to Ark-19 after their traumatic scouting mission in the abandoned Nebraska Decepticon Bunker. Verity is angry at not being able to help the Autobots investigate the information they brought back, but Hunter and Jimmy tell her that they are more than happy to stay out of it. Verity eventually relents at their words and gives in to joining the post-traumatic stressing out.

Meanwhile, the other Autobots, who are busy investigating, are speeding their way towards the Oregon Decepticon bunker. Bumblebee is already there, quietly monitoring the area, though nothing is happening… yet. Eventually, though, he sees Megatron bounce in just outside the bunker and call for Starscream.

It is Astrotrain, the Battlechargers, and Thundercracker who come out to greet him first, however. Megatron warns them that if they fight him they will die, and gives them the choice of standing down instead, which they accept. Starscream flies out of the bunker at that point, declares them all "strutless cowards", and lays into Megatron with his now super-powered weaponry.

Bumblebee ends up getting tossed around by the backwash and flung off to the side. Prowl tells him to hang on, as his squad is almost there, but Bumblebee tries to warn them off, saying he thinks they'll be bystanders at best, collateral damage at worst.

Megatron retaliates with his fusion cannon, clipping Starscream's wings and causing him to decide to transform and continue his attack in robot mode. He divebombs straight onto Megatron, throws him into the side of a cliff, and opens fire with everything he's got. Starscream starts crowing about how long he's been wanting to defeat Megatron… then reacts in horror as Megatron emerges from the cliff, very much not as deactivated as he was expecting.

Bumblebee finally gets spotted by the other Decepticons who have been watching the fight, but the other Autobots arrive just in the nick of time to bail him out of an attack. Prowl tells everyone they should all stand down and be content to watch the duel play itself out.

And play out it does, as Megatron berates Starscream for his actions and blows a hole straight through him using his fusion cannon. He tells the gathered Decepticons to take Starscream's remains inside, and answers Runamuck's question about what to do about the Autobots present with two words: "Phase… Two."

Dramatic entrances are the right of all sentient beings. Sunstreaker asks Prowl if they're just going to let the Decepticons get away with going back into the bunker. Prowl says, "Yep," and Sunstreaker reacts with relief. They all head back to Lake Michigan and down into the water to return to Ark-19… where it turns out that they're being watched by Machination agents, who are ready to enact the plan to kidnap one of the Autobots now that they've confirmed their location.

As they get inside, Prowl states that he thinks it's finally time to contact Optimus Prime… but as he says so, Hunter points to the door: Prime has already arrived!

(https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Infiltration_issue_6)

Fan Art: Megatron vs Starscream by davidnery

[clarklovescarole]

March 1937: Clarcarole

March 1, 1937 – Harrisburg Telegraph

Fred Perry and Ellsworth Vines have the spotlight on them and don’t have it all at the same time. That’s not a tough one to figure out. Here’s the answer – Clark Gable and Carole Lombard catch the spectators’ eyes while they watch the two tennis stars dash in a dither around the court.

March 5, 1937 – Harrisburg Telegraph

The other evening at the tennis matches Carole Lombard sallied in with Clark Gable while everyone blinked and looked again at the cartwheel proportions of the brim on Carole’s shining brown straw hat. It dipped just a bit in front, but was unadorned except for a band since it topped off a tailored spectator’s costume. Her suit of brown wool was made with a semi-fitted three-quarters length coat and her slim skirt must have been close to fourteen inches from the floor.

March 2-9, 1937: Clark’s cougar

March 5, 1937: Dayton Daily News

Clark Gable brings back cougar kitten 

Clark “Bring ‘Em Back Alive” Gable, film star, brought this snarling cougar kitten back from a 10-day hunting trip in Kaibab forest in northern Arizona. He said his chief ideas was to get photographs and not to kill, and that the kitten was captured after films were made of its mother. The animal is now a member of the studio zoo.

March 2, 1937 – The Courier

That 3-month-old cougar Clark Gable brought back from Arizona is so mean he even snapped at Carole Lombard.

March 4, 1937 – Des Moines Tribune

Clark Gable, leading a 60-pound cougar cub around the film lot on a leash Thursday, offered a strip of movie film and the testimony of eye-witness Dr. Franklyn Thorpe, Mary Astor’s former husband, to support “bring ’em back alive” story of the the wild Kaibab forest in Arizona.

The screen star, ardent huntsman, related: “We found a huge female cat with two kittens on Saddle mountain. I got within 15 feet of her and filmed some swell shots. We tried to rope her but she picked up one kitten and ran. Our dogs treed the other cub and roped it. “Our cub broke its chain that night and got loose. Next day we followed the mother’s tracks and lassoed the other kitten – and here it is.” 

Offered the cub as a house cat, Carole Lombard refused with thanks. 

March 9, 1937 – Salt Lake Telegram

Clark Gable’s career as a “bring ’em back alive” hunter suffered a rude setback today. Finding out that the baby mountain lion captured by the star wields a wicked claw and is a lot tougher than was at first supposed, the MGM studio has given Gable 10 days to get rid of it. Pending a permanent disposal, they have impounded the animal in a cage on the lot. 

What alarmed movie executives most was the news that Gable had brought the lion back to Hollywood in the rumble seat of his car and that he carried it to Carole Lombard’s house and to other places in the same manner. Now they have instructed him not to even go near it. So if anyone wants a baby mountain lion that was captured by Clark Gable, just apply to the MGM studio.

March 14, 1937 – Detroit Free Press

Carole Lombard either will have to be amused by somebody else or amuse herself while Clark Gable goes off on a hunting trip. Perhaps she can take an extra vocal lesson a day. She is astonishing everybody by singing gloriously in “Swing High, Swing Low,” her latest picture.

March 19, 1937 – Pittsburgh Sun Telegraph

Carole Lombard now has a fan letter she prizes highly, since it came from Addis Ababa, from the Count Eduardo Bassi Di Allanno, a lieutenant in the One Hundred and Tenth Regiment of the Imperial Guard there. I believe it is a proposal, since he doesn’t seem to have heard that Mr. Gable is head man in those quarters.

March 19, 1937 – Dayton Daily News

Sweetie-Trading Latest of the Hollywood Fads 

If psychologists ever decided to select a Utopian center for the well-balanced mind, Hollywood would never be seriously considered in the voting. To all appearances Hollywood is crazy, as most of the world will agree, but a thorough look behind the cogs of it, its gigantic exploitation machine might disclose that it is only crazy like the fox. 

Almost every move Hollywood makes is carefully planned in advance.  Occasionally someone will go out on a shooting tangent, others will forget starving relatives and still others will keep diaries, but those remote occurrences are never countenanced by the publicity machine. This machine attempts to censor as it operates, but it thrives on eccentricities. … 

But the latest bit of idiosyncrasy to be fed into the machine is more difficult than most to fit into classification. It concerns the growing tendency on the part of name players, particularly the feminine stars, to lend their boy friends to rivals. … 

Only recently Barbara Stanwyck, whose romance with Robert Taylor has been aired in the public prints for more than a year, consented to Bob’s accompanying Jean Harlow to the President’s Ball at Washington. Of course, that was a studio order for a publicity coup, and Barbara got Bob back…. 

About the only going-together stars in Hollywood who haven’t consented to one of these temporary trading propositions are Clark Gable and Carole Lombard. In the first place, both are important enough to draw plenty of publicity without resorting to that sort of thing; secondly, they seem too fond of each other’s company to chance even a brief change of companionship. 

March 20, 1937 – Salt Lake Telegram

Romantic couples in real life are being given their chances as companions in reel life, a survey shows. It has been discovered, film producers say, that motion picture audiences are anxious to watch screen performances of a couple who are known to be in love off the screen as well as on. 

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, whose romance in real life is at present a favorite subject among film fans, are to be brought together in a film soon, if plans materialize. 

March 21, 1937 – Harrisburg Sunday Courier

Clark Gable will not only star in “Saratoga” but be property man as well. First, he loaded his race horse, Beverly Hills, for the picture. Then the horse trailer Carole Lombard gave him for a birthday present. For good measure, Clark added several horse blankets two saddles, a bridle and other racing equipment. 

“It’s a pleasure, Clark grinned. “At last Beverly Hills is going to win a race. Says so right in the script.” 

March 21, 1937 – Hartford Courant

If Clark Gable and Carole Lombard were at the race track the other day, they doubtless bet on Clarcarole, named after them… 

March 21, 1937: Victoria Advocate

Carole Lombard’s intimates don’t know whether to credit Clark Gable, her boy friend, or Mitchell Leisen, her director, but they all agree that Carole has shown more development as an actress in the last year than any other star in Hollywood. 

March 22, 1937 – The Atlanta Constitution

Clark Gable has been spending his free evenings at the Garden of Allah hotel. There’s a certain lady living there of whom he is quite fond. And her name is not Carole Lombard… 

March 30, 1937 – Pittsburgh Sun Telegraph

Life is just about complete for Carole Lombard… She now has a three-picture-a-year contract and Clark Gable. 

March 31, 1937 – The Sacramento Bee

It is a shame to spoil Clark Gable’s fun, but Carole Lombard is a friend of mine too and I think she should be warned that Clark has just purchased that two-wheeled carriage they used in Parnell. Whenever Gable purchases one of the gags for his personal use it usually turns up in Carole’s swanky front yard with a goat tied to it or something. In fact, I hear Clark is dickering for an old thin nanny right now. 

March 31, 1937 – The St. Louis Star and Times

The Brown Derby was packed. … Clark Gable was whispering in one of Carole Lombard’s pretty ears.

[redrobin-detective]

sleep like the dead

“And now, I, Technus, shall finally have my electronic vengeance on you, ghost child and conquer this puny human world!” Technus shrieked, exiting the portal in a suitably dramatic fashion. The various weapons around the lab shook and trembled from his power and static from his core crackled, raring for a fight with his favorite enemy. Only the Phantom didn’t appear.

“Hmm, maybe I wasn’t loud enough,” Technus mused before starting up again. “Pathetic Phantom! You can only hope your miniscule half human strength will be enough to take on my squiggling mess of the tangled wires of terror!” He threw back his head and cackled loudly, waiting for his nemesis to show and the battle to begin. His laughter petered out after a bit and the lab became silent once more.

“Well, now he’s just being rude,” Technus fumed, floating up through the ceiling. “Don’t ignore my threats, child. I know you’re here, I can feel your cold core.” He stopped once he reached the ghost boy’s human lair, hovering a few feet from the bed where his rival was sprawled out, sound asleep.

“Come ghost boy, it’s time for fisticuffs! I have some new moves and some great catchphrases I’m ready to try out on you!” The technology ghost exclaimed in excitement, miming some punches. Phantom didn’t answer, just kept laying there barely moving save for his soft, shallow breaths. Technus watched as his breath fogged with each exhale, his core’s ghost sense but it still didn’t awaken him. “Child? Have you expired?”

He leaned forward and gently poked the boy’s cheek. It was squishy but firm unlike a ghost’s exterior and he could feel the dense bone underneath. Phantom didn’t so much as twitch. Technus drew back his hand, unsure of what to do. He’d surprised the child while he was in bed before but he always woke up and they fell into the usual routine. But now he’d changed the script and if there was something ghosts didn’t like, it was change. He flew back down to the portal and sped into the Ghost Zone at top speed, searching for someone who would be able to help him understand. 

“Wow, baby pop whooped your butt that fast? Either he’s getting better or you’re getting more pathetic, my bet is the latter,” Ember teased as she strummed to herself from a floating rock near her lair.

“The ghost child won’t wake up and fight,” Technus said in a rush. “I went to the human world but no one answered my challenge. I went to his human lair and he was just lying on his bed thing and he wouldn’t move, even when I touched him.”

“That’s not like him, he’s usually more hopped up and ready to fight than a groupie on coke,” Ember frowned, setting aside her guitar. “Well come on, sparky, lets go check the kid out.” 

They developed something of an entourage making their way back to the human portal. A few of the locals had heard that the infamous half ghost child was behaving differently and well, curiosity didn’t stop when the cat was killed. Skulker chuckled menacingly under his breath, Youngblood bounced around the adults. Johnny and Kitty had been going to the real world anyway and decided to tag along. 

“Were his folks or Jazz home?" Johnny asked, riding his cycle slow enough to keep pace with the group. 

“Who?” Technus questioned, “er no, the annoying children always with him were not around for once.”

“Annoying yes but they don’t live- uh occupy the same lair as the brat,” Johnny explained. As a younger ghost who’d held onto his humanity more than some, he had a better grasp of human culture. “His parents, the crazy ghost hunters in the blue and orange jumpsuits. Or his sister, Jazz. She has red hair and is kind of a know it all. They’re his family, they live with him.”

“Oh those weirdos,” Youngblood said wrinkling his nose. “Always loud and shouting about ripping apart ghosts. They’re not even good hunters.”

“Obviously, they haven’t noticed they got a ghost living with ‘em,” Ember added with an eyeroll.

“It’s a very stressful situation, Danny was worried about what they’d do if they found out,” Kitty frowned before sticking her tongue out at Johnny. “Danny’s a good guy, at least he talked to me about things that mattered.”

“Good target practice, you mean,” Skulker declared as they entered through the portal. Instinctively they all looked up to where the ghost boy’s core was humming but sensed no movement. “Alright, I will admit that is weird. Let’s see what the whelp’s up to.”

It was a bit cramped, the five of them crammed into the small room especially when they were keeping their distance from the room’s only living occupant. He had not moved since Technus had last been in here. At their entrance, his breath fogged again and he shivered for a second before settling back down. 

“Well, he’s alive at least,” Johnny shrugged before leaning in close to examine him. “Kid looks wiped though.” He picked up the boy’s bony wrist which had been dangling off the bed, his fingers brushing the floor and held it up before dropping it. His knuckles rapped against the ground but he didn’t stir.

“Johnny, leave him alone, he’s trying to sleep,” Kitty hissed, yanking her boyfriend back by his ear. 

“Come on, I’m not doing anything bad,” Johnny defended. “But, come on, how often are we gonna get a chance like this?”

“Hmm is human sleep that interesting that the ghost child would ignore all of us?” Technus asked, floating over and laying himself down on the bed. He laid there on the bed next to the boy for a few moments. “I do not believe I’m doing this correctly.”

“Nah you gotta close your eyes and go off to dreamland,” Youngblood said, grabbing a sock off the floor and then some papers from the desk and began stacking them on the half ghost’s head. The boy still didn’t react in the slightest. 

“Is dreamland close? Another pocket dimension like the Zone?” Technus, ever the scientist, asked curiously.

“No, you idiot,” Ember sighed before tentatively reaching out and laying a hand on Phantom’s chest. “Yow, man that’s weird.”

“What?” Skulker asked, having been mostly content to watch until now. Youngblood had now piled several more items on the ghost boy’s head but he slept on, unawares.

“It’s just,” she scrunched up her face as she looked for the words, “I know what ghost cores feel like and I’ve been around enough humans to know the signs of life but he’s got both at once. His core flares and fades opposite his heart beat. It shouldn’t work but it does, somehow.”

“He is a most curious specimen, I rarely see Plasmius in his human skin so it’s hard to compare,” Skulker commented. “Of course Plasmius I can understand. He acts like a ghost, thinks like one. But the child, he’s certainly a ghost but he’s also decidingly... human.”

“That’s why we should be leaving him alone,” Kitty frowned, plucking Youngblood out of the air and moving him away from the sleeping teen. “If Danny isn’t waking up with all of us causing a racket then clearly he’s exhausted. We bother him enough, let him rest and fight him some other time.”

“But I wanted to fight now,” Technus whined, rolling over on the bed and resting one arm over the ghost boy’s body. “The Phantom surely wants to hear my latest monologue on how I’m the supreme ruler of everything electronic and beeping.”

“I know I don’t,” Youngblood shrugged.

“Me neither,” Johnny scoffed.

“Or me,” Ember muttered, putting her hands on her hips.

“Just let him rest,” Kitty said shooing the others back and gently brushing some of the kid’s hair out of his face revealing sallow features and dark marks under his eyes. “It’s hard enough being human much less a ghost on top of that; between fighting us and trying to have a normal life I bet he hardly gets any sleep. The least we can do is give him a break before he breaks.”

“I suppose it’s not sporting to kill a sleeping prey,” Skulker pouted. “And it’ll make his defeat more meaningful if he’s well rested and not uh,” he gestured to the Phantom’s general state of disarray. 

“Better appreciate it,” Ember sulked for a second, kicking away some pajama pants from the floor. “His stupid human life. I’d give anything to sleep again, just for a minute.” 

The ghosts sat in quiet contemplation for a moment, the dead looking enviously and curiously on the silent, sleeping boy, on a world they could only watch but not engage in. The moment was shattered by the front door slamming open.

“DANNO WE’RE HOME AND WE BROUGHT CHINESE!” Resonated through the house. Startled awake, the ghost child leapt out of the bed and hovered about a foot above it for a moment before sinking back down.

“Darn it Dad, I was napping,” Danny grumbled before he opened his eyes and saw several of his ghostly enemies standing awkwardly in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Technus lounging on his bed. “What the-”

“Oh good, you’re awake!” Technus tittered happily, leaning into his personal space. “Ready to hear my spiel?” The temperature in the room dropped rapidly as his core ramped up and spilled over into his eyes which were no doubt glowing a fierce green.

“Get out of my room!” He shouted, reaching over to grab his emergency under the bed thermos but a sock falling from his hair into his face distracted him.

“Hey, just stopping by but we were just on our way out, sleep well, Danny sweetie!” Kitty said dragging the whole group through the floor. His core thrummed in agitation until he felt them cross the portal into the Ghost Zone. He sat there for a moment, shaking and panting from the adrenaline rush before he decided he really didn’t want to know. He flopped back onto the bed and reached over on his nightstand for the bottle Jazz had given him the other day.

“The heck is in this stupid sleep aid?”

[phonkscribes]

Half-Alive; PART ONE.

You're not dead, not yet anyway, but you're not fully alive either. This poses quite the surprise and alarm to your new survivor friends. Especially when they're keen on you turning against them one day in your endeavors to make it out of this mess alive. Louis somehow managed to convince Bill, Francis, and Zoey to not blow your head off. Which you're very grateful for!

Louis

The way that he met you was through the accidental separation between himself and the rest of the squad when a Tank threw a car that blocked his path.

While the Tank went after the gang, he was left to fend for himself. Not that it was any of your business, but you couldn't help but watch the whole thing go down from on the top of a rooftop you like to camp out on when avoiding the zeds down below.

Taking it upon your sickly self, you hop down, to his aid when the roar of a hunter echoes down the alley way he was walking across. The second it goes flying, he's too late to spot it nor react.

This is where you step in. With a roar of your own, you deal with the scratches of those sharp claws and struggle of the Hunter in your death grip. One jerk to the right and he goes limp.

Louis has his pistols in hand, about to open fire, but a little dazed from being saved by you to start shooting.

"You alright?", you croak in a raspy tone, it's been awhile since you've had anyone to talk with.

"Y- Yeah! Uh.. thanks", he answers sheepishly.

You make a "follow me" motion with your equally clawed hands and he trots along like a lost pup. You know this area like it's the back of your hand, so if anything he really would get lost. Besides, the company ought to do better than the dead trailing behind you guys, eager to sink their teeth into the fresh meat.

Louis is pretty chatty, which you don't mind of course. He starts talking about his friends and how they were setting up shop somewhere to hunker down at.

That sounds nice, and one look at your sad face lets the other know how much you miss that. He offers to invite you there since you've been so nice with guiding him from place to place, but you know deep down that if he brought you to his friends, they'd fill you with enough led to make you sink.

"I'm sure they'll understand once we meet 'em! They might not look like it, but they're really nice people!"

His optimism sickens you, but in a good way.

The first night in venturing to the other half of the city is spent in one of your makeshift safe-houses. The apartment is run down, but you've barricaded it enough to keep out the prying undead eye.

He's impressed with your decor and interrior, even picking up some of your comics laying about and flipping through them.

"Hey! I used to read this one as a kid!", you can't help but to smile as he beams at them.

It dawns upon you that you have nothing of substance to feed him for the night... damn it. He pulls out a sad looking dinner too, a can of soup he knicked off a street on the way here but the stove in your pad works just fine and he's eating it so...

Louis wonders what you eat, given your sentience and all of that. You tell him that he doesn't want to know, but you're quick to assure him that it isn't people! Those are hard to come by anyways.

In truth, you eat the flesh of the decomposed, because its easier and helps out with the survivors as disgusting as it is.

When he gets nice and sleepy, you watch him, eating your zombie jerky in silence as he passes out. It's not like you sleep much anyways or need it.

He tosses and turns, no doubt it being nightmares. You feel bad, because as much as you'd like to comfort him, he'd probably think you're trying to eat him.

You pat his bald head, grumbling a "there there", and miraculously it appeases him but now he's cold because you're cold, because you're half dead and lukewarm.

Damn.

More blankets to wrap this idiot up in, the rest of the night is spent watching him and keeping an eye peeled for any infects that might try and crash your shabby little home.

At some point you got bored and started stalking things on his head. Dice mainly, then pencils, but as he shifted in his sleep, they all came crashing down and he woke up.

You try to hold in your laughter as the surrounding items fall at the sides of his head and he can't help but to laugh with you. But now he can't go back to sleep so you two trade shifts.

You're a very interesting sight, he thinks. You sleep very odd.

You curl up into a tight ball, like a cat on one of the recliners you've stolen from someone else's home. When you sleep, it's very stiff and still, and he has to wonder how that could be comfortable for anyone.

When you roll over, he can see your cute face... and you've never seemed more dead in that moment that he starts to worry if you've finally passed.

When the sun rises, he's poking your face.

"Louis", you start, a little annoyed but happy to know that he didn't try to shoot you

"[Name]", he finishes with a small smile, "Just makin' sure you're doing okay"

"... I'm.. you know what, thanks Lou. I appreciate it", he gasps at the little nickname you've given him as he starts to pack up for the next leg of the trip.

"You're welcome", he responds while stretching a little, "You ready for this?"

God, is this what it's like to know a morning person? How can he be so full of energy like that?

"Yeah let's go", you're gonna miss when you have to say goodbye, strangely.

[drabbles-of-writing]

Adopted AU

Same anon as before, let us see that post of Hunter and King as brothers

Eda pops in with a very traumatized child who may have left Belos at 11, but was still covered in physical and mental scars, and puts him in the same general area as a three year old demon with a napoleon complex. cue Hunter occasionally sneaking up behind King and curiously poking him until the demon gets annoyed and starts trying to grab him and Hunter scurries back to the corner to hiss at him, meanwhile King just wants to know Who The Weird Witch Is. its like trying to introduce cats but you forgot they gotta smell each other through the door first.

more under the cut

Hunter was very much Not on board with King calling him a minion or a subject, because you know, Belos trauma with him feeling like a lesser pawn in his plan, and after yelling at the itty bitty boy a few times and King feeling kind of bad when Eda scolded Hunter for doing so since King is Young and Hunter has no other idea how to express his emotions since he had no real healthy outlets at that point, King settled on calling him "the vagrant witch who remains in my kingdom but at a Price" and that price is the two of them teaming up to steal cookies, stuffed animals for King's kingdom, and hiding in small impossible spots around the Owl House which ends up in Eda whacking them with a broom to get 'em out. Hunter may have used King as a stuffed animal to sleep with in random spots around the house before he realized he had an actual bed now and King may have been forced to put up with it. kids went from mortal enemies to best partners in crime in the span of like 6 months. Hunter I imagine also would've felt he and King could bond over the fact they both have scars, Hunter's being literal and King's being his broken horn. he assumed King never brought it up because it was hard for him like how Belos was a tough topic for Belos but by the time he was like 13 he realized King just. didn't know

King also grew up with Hunter having night terrors and some ptsd. kids messed up as all hell and has had moments where he wakes up freaked out or starts suddenly shaking and falling to the floor seemingly out of the blue. took him a few years until he stopped getting terrified if someones voice raised even a little at him but even at 16 he still gets visibly nervous and his hands can shake sometimes. King didn't understand what was happening when those happened or why Eda looked so scared for him. first few times were a nightmare, and Hunter would curl up in the furthest corner where nobody could reach him and shrink away from everyone. King could almost always get to the same places as Hunter, so eventually he just started. crawling up to Hunter. wouldn't touch him, but he'd sit there quietly until Hunter calmed down or decided he Did actually want to hug the fluffy demon. King never really completely understood it because he only ever asked when he was like 4-5 and Eda has no idea how to explain to him that Hunter went through a lot of shit. so she best explained it as that certain things scare Hunter more than others because he had a bad experience with them, and thus he needed some help with it. worked enough for King. its also due to this and Hunter's aversion to any topics on Belos that King doesn't know Eda or Hunter's backstory. He grew up believing that most witches were like Hunter (not all, but a good few) and would go out of his way to not do certain things in public or to other witches he knew that upset Hunter. he thought that Hunter's scars were normal and that they were the coolest thing, because they meant he'd been in a lot of battles and he had to be really powerful to get that many scars. and he told Hunter as such, and it helped, just a bit.

Hunter and Luz have a 'god you annoy the hell out of me but unfortunately we also bond over similar things and I love you' sibling bond whereas Hunter and King is a 'we don't understand a thing about each other but we work well in crime and doing our best. also mildly bullying each others failures' sibling bond. King was more than a little shocked to learn that Emperor Belos was Hunter's uncle, and was 100% ready to dethrone him on the spot when he realized Belos was the cause of his trauma. he absolutely claimed that Hunter clearly must've beat Belos hard to come out alive after getting all those scars and Hunter wasn't going to dispute him. Hunter also didn't much get why King was so insistent on finding his father, what with Hunter having a pretty iffy bio family, but it was important to King, so he added research on demons like King to his never ending list of things to study for hours on in the dead of night. don't even get me STARTED on when King legally changed his last name to Clawthorne.

[philicheesecake]

(U. L.) Feral

Synopsis: Eli is sent on his first mission.

Warnings: Unwilling soft vore, hard vore, fatal vore, implied fatal vore, intense violence and gore, strong language

Word count: 2597 words

Rest of the stories can be found here:

The following days were met with lots of growth pains. Warren was very slowly

beginning to heal. The Legion members did what they could to help Warren heal

faster, but it would take some time, even with the help of alchemy, to get him well enough to introduce a prosthetic.

Meanwhile, Eli seemed to be growing restless. Skinner got what little information he could out of the giant, before moving on to the more important mission. Learning from the other giants.

Eli's eyes studied all the refugee humans from a distance hungrily. It had been a while since he had any real food. And recovering from his recent injuries from the cave giant wasn't helping. All he could think about was grabbing one of those tasty human refugees and swallowing them down. He hated how hungry he felt. And he was still stuck in camo.

He was almost relieved once the familiar red headed Collector approached.

"We're ready for you to be of use," Skinner said.

"Does that mean I'll fucking finally get that antidote?" Eli grunted impatiently,

“Once you're a safe distance away from us, yes."

“Thank the fucking stars,” the giant groaned.

Skinner cocked his head to look sideways at the giant. “Don’t appear so relieved. We haven’t even discussed your mission yet.”

“Then spill."

Skinner sighed and motioned for the giant to follow. Eli was brought into the biology classroom again, which was being used as the UL command headquarters at this point. Hunters were commonly seen entering and leaving that room for briefings, bringing in weapons and such. They were using Olivia’s skills with alchemy to help arm the hunters for future missions.

The classroom was full of several other hunters once Eli entered. They seemed to be discussing things and arguing. Some of them fell silent once Eli entered, glaring at him with a mix of wariness and distaste.

“What is that doing here?” One of the hunters spat.

Eli felt Skinner’s hand grip Eli’s shoulder. “This is Eli of the Arawn clan. He has agreed to be our spy.”

The room suddenly went into an uproar.

“You can’t be serious, Tyler!”

“This is too risky!”

“There’s too many ways this can go wrong!”

“That thing can’t be trusted! He’s just going to report back to the giants and they’ll come back here for an all-you-can-eat buffet!”

“Shut UP tinies, will ya!” Eli shouted.

“You can’t tell us what to do.” A hunter hissed.

“Maybe not.” Eli grunted. “I don’t like ya humans, but I hate the other giants more. Their plan is stupid. It fucks up everything that kept my kind alive for centuries. If humans are wiped out, that’ll throw the wood giants onto the bottom of the food chain. Believe me. I don’t give a rats ass about their plan. I want the world to be simple, not all fuckin’ chaotic and shit. If that means I’ll have to sell out the other giants, well screw them,”

“You expect us to believe that bullshit?” East narrowed his eyes.

Eli rolled his eyes with a huff. “Ya can believe whatever ya want. But if you want a human’s word for it, fine. I got four who would vouch for me.”

“Bullshit.”

“They’re right here, too.” Eli said. “You can just ask ‘em. Olivia Heartstrong, and Warren, Rebeka, and Liss Pace. I ain’t arguing with ya more beyond that, ‘cause y’all would rather simplify me to be something that thinks with my stomach more than my noggin.”

East scowled, not seeming to buy it.

“Annnd, let’s steer ourselves back on topic.” Skinner spoke again. “East, fetch the Arwen’s references.”

East opened his mouth indignantly, before clenching his jaw with a scowl and stormed off.

“In the meantime, you’re here to be briefed on our mission. Riley?”

A tall woman perked up as she was addressed. “R…right…” she frowned, then stepped over to the whiteboard where there was a rough map drawn of the surrounding area.

“So after scouting the area and I was able to locate where the wood giants have been gathering over the ridge here.” She pointed at the map, “They appear to be under the command of some sorcerer. We have no knowledge of who this sorcerer is, where they came from, and what their next plans will take place. All of the giants under their command exhibit extremely aggressive and reckless behavior, unlike anything we’ve seen before. They all seem to be borderline feral, no matter how many people they consume. We aren’t sure what caused this behavior either.”

“So what do you want me to do about ‘em?” Eli frowned uncomfortably.

“We need to know who this sorcerer is, and what they have planned next. They attacked Autumn Ridge with a full-scale attack and took out our surrounding cell towers. This was planned, and we need to know where they will strike next. That means exact numbers of what will attack where, what their plans of operations are, exact times and dates this will occur, and anything of relevance,”

“Simple enough,” Eli said. “When is this spy thing happening?”

“Soon,” Skinner said. “We’ve begun to see them move out, so we’ll have to move fast.”

Eli sighed. “Thank the stars. I’m fucking sick of being stuck here in camo.”

“Don’t thank them yet,” Skinner said. “We’ll still be having a way to keep a tight leash on you.”

He looked to one of the Legion members, who stepped forward, drawing a piece of yellow ice out of their bag. Skinner took it and held it up for Eli to see. Eli quickly swiped his hand at it, eager to be cured, but Skinner held his hand higher.

“Not so soon, giant. This ice is special. It slowly releases the antidote into your skin over twelve hours, then will revert you back into camo after that time. If you try anything against us like escape instead of reporting back, you’ll be in the midst of giant territory while being stuck in human form. And I know that will not end well for you.”

Eli’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like this.” He murmured.

“It’s either that or being collected from or falling prey to your own kind. It’s your choice how this will end.” Skinner said.

Eli groaned. “Fine.”

Skinner grinned. “That’s the spirit. Come. Let’s get you on the road, then.”

~*~

A Jeep was Eli’s escort to the location. Skinner, East, Riley, and two other Legion members accompanied Eli as they rode down the darkening mountain road. Eli was seated uncomfortably between two hunters giving him the death stare during the entire drive.

They arrived well outside the city where the roads grew rougher and more winding within the mountainscape. Skinner parked the car along the road, and everyone loaded out of the car. East kept his shotgun aimed at Eli the whole time, who appeared more annoyed than threatened.

Skinner held up his knife towards Eli. His eyes were sharp and alert. “Alright, Robin?”

One of the UL members from before hesitantly stepped forward, taking out the ice and tossed it to Eli from a small distance. Eli caught it with his hands. Immediately, he was struck by a cold shiver and his bones cracked and stretched. He began to grow. The UL members unanimously stepped back. East’s grip on his shotgun tightened.

Eli eventually reached his usual height, gritting his teeth from the unpleasant sensation. His eyes were squeezed shut as he recollected himself. The instant he reached his full height again, he was stabbed by the strong, appetizing smell of his prey beneath him.

Golden animalistic eyes shot open. His lips curled back into a snarl.

“Eli. Stand down.” Skinner’s voice was distant.

Suddenly his claws dug into two of the hunters in each hand. His fists clenched within the organs of their ribcages and they weakly coughed up blood from their hollowed-out insides, quickly going still. Gunshots blasted through the clearing. Blood splattered out of Eli’s shoulder. He let out a feral roar.

He couldn’t think. All that filled his senses was the appetizing… pulsing… pouring… human blood… he needed all of it. He needed to devour every one of them. It consumed every atom of his being. His claws retracted from the two downed Legion members and he lunged for Skinner. Skinner narrowly skidded beneath the giant’s swiping claws, and he leaped into the Jeep.

The engine roared to life just as the window shattered and Eli’s hand went to grab for Skinner. His hand was stopped just as East stabbed the giant in the knee. Eli let out another feral roar, shifting his attention to snatch East and lift him off the ground by the throat, tearing East’s knife out of his hands.

Skinner took this opening to speed away with Riley barely managing to get in in time. East was left alone and prone, and there was only one place he was going.

Eli’s jaws unhinged and clamped around his upper torso, biting down just enough to draw blood. The taste was sweet, metallic, delightful. It was all he could focus on. Though that wasn’t enough. He wanted more.

He hungrily gulped down the hunter, each swallow following rapidly after another. The monster had lost all control. His hands pushed the hapless human in deeper with more force. His ribcage stretched as his squirming prey began to pass through. It all happened so fast that he could barely register the last taste of the human passing his lips when they were now pressing into his middle and filled out inside his stomach. The taste receptors in the stomach lining were filled with ecstasy, causing the muscular walls to flex around its prey excitedly. East writhed and fought frantically within the tight confinement, though it did nothing but send a shiver of pleasure down the monster’s spine.

It wasn’t enough. The sweet smell of blood still invaded his senses. The two prone corpses of the UL members laid before him and he lifted up one, biting down on the legs with a sickening crunch and gulped them down piece by piece. East’s struggles grew once he was reunited with his comrades’ remains.

Eli was barely able to finish the two remaining corpses, though biting them into smaller pieces helped them fit better. Even then, he finally stopped on his knees, gasping once his airway finally cleared from his feast and massacre. He ran a hand over his full stomach in admiration. It felt amazing. He missed this. Stars, he missed this so much… it had been three years since he had a proper meal he deserved… human flesh. He had forgotten how good human blood tasted within him. The pleasant cracks of bones beneath his teeth.

The bullet wound in his shoulder almost didn’t hurt. It was nothing compared to the invigorating bliss that coursed through him. He gradually pulled himself to his feet, putting both hands to his stomach to support the added weight, then lumbered off into the forest to sleep off his meal.

~*~

Skinner and Riley returned to the shelter, numbly stepping out of the car and stumbled inside the building. The Collector ordered Riley to write a full report of the mission, then began to head back towards the biology classroom.

A Legion member approached him once he entered, questioning where East and the others were.

Skinner glared at the member with the fury of hot coals. “Get Eli’s references. Olivia Heartstrong, Warren Pace, Rebeka Pace, and Liss Pace.”

The member gave Skinner a look of slight confusion, before nodding and left.

Warren was confused once he was summoned to the Legion’s point of command. He was still learning how to use his prosthetic leg rather poorly, though Rebeka offered help to him as he walked.

Skinner sat on the desk and gestured for them to take a seat. They obliged.

Skinner looked between all of them scrutinously, before sighing and glanced at the other Legion member in the room. “Dexter, why is there a child here?”

“That’s Liss Pace. You asked for her.”

Skinner let out a scoffing laugh. “That is Liss Pace? Christ, she is a fortunate child. Well, I won’t censor this for her. This is the apocalypse, and she’ll need thick skin.”

Rebeka glared, seeming defensive over her little sister. “What is this about?”

Skinner twirled his knife between his fingers, sweeping his eyes over each of them once more. “It’s about your giant friend, Eli Arawn. He went missing after he killed three Legion members.”

Warren gasped, leaping out of his chair, though almost immediately fell over. He gripped the side of his chair and gritted his teeth. “That can’t be possible! He hasn’t killed anyone in three years!”

Skinner was unmoved. “Well he just broke his streak. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Warren stared in disbelief, lost for words. Rebeka reached out for Warren to help him into his seat again. Liss spoke up behind them. “But… Eli saved us. He can’t be evil. He curses a lot, but he’s a good person.”

Skinner narrowed his eyes, stepping closer to Liss. “No. He’s not even a person he’s a monster. He eats humans, whole, or crunched into little pieces. I’ve seen it. Then they’re digested, and gone forever, and he feels not a single grain of remorse.”

Lisa’s eyes grew very wide, then they narrowed again. “You’re wrong.”

Rebeka held out a hand with a glare. “For god’s sake, leave her alone.”

Skinner finally stepped back with a sigh. “Very well. I just have you four to thank for my mens’ deaths, since Eli said each of you trusted him, and now that I can see clearly. Now you have two options. The first is that you’re banished from the Legion from connections with a monster and you’ll be thrown out of the shelter and likely fed to the monsters,”

Warren paled. Rebeka leaped to her feet with fury. Olivia sipped her coffee.

“Calm down, miss Pace. I haven’t told you your other option.”

Rebeka was still fuming, ready to throw punches. But she let him continue.

“You will find Eli and bring him to us, dead or alive. He’s a liability since he could tell all the other giants about our location. He needs to be out of the picture.” He looks to Warren with a smug grin. “He was your first mission, wasn’t he? Perhaps you can finish it this time.”

Warren opened his mouth, but he was lost for words.

Skinner’s eyes swept back toward Olivia and Rebeka. “But perhaps that’s too much to ask from a cripple. Surely you can fulfill the task. Better you than Little Liss.”

That’s when Rebeka’s fist flew, landing right in Skinner’s jaw. Blood splattered his lip. He gripped Rebeka’s arm and locked it into a hold that put pressure on the joint, threatening to break it.

“Yes, you’ll do nicely,” Skinner grinned, licking the blood off of his lip. Rebeka grit her teeth with fury, though her stance shook with pain from the hold.

“If I may, Skinny,” Olivia spoke the first time. “Edward cares about Wilfred. I have no doubts that Winston can safely retrieve the giant if he’s sent out for this mission. There is no need to send Rachel or Lucy.”

Skinner focused on Olivia, then on Warren. “It’s your choice,”

Warren hesitated. He looked at his sisters. Rebeka grit her teeth. “Warren, don’t. I swear to god—“

Warren bit his lip, then finally summoned his voice. “I’ll do it,”

[demonologist-in-denim]

The Unknown Benefactor

Hunter gatherings were no longer a rarity. They happened often now, and included hunters as well as witches and demonologists and supernatural scholars and occasionally members of the non-human community as well. They were full of conversation and comfort food, the telling of tall tales and the occasional conflict. Lore was shared, spells copied, and valuable weapons exchanged. There were homemade goods on offer, sometimes give freely, sometimes at a price: spell ingredients and blades forged in backyard smithies, and the like. There was laughter and drinking and the mourning of lost friends and the training of those new to the life. And everyone came away with new stories, new resources, some with new bruises.

And something more.

It started small, nearly unnoticed. Someone would mention they were low on rock salt, and driving away from the gathering the next day, find a bag of it in their back seat. Or someone would mention how a Wendigo had ripped their favorite hunting jacket, only to find it the next morning, on the peg where they’d hung it before bed the night before, perfectly mended. Days, even weeks, after the gathering, hunters would find charms or protection spells at the bottoms of their bags or pockets. A weapon that had been for sale and admired, but determined too costly, would be amongst their gear, and no one the wiser as to who had actually purchased it.

Eventually, one hunter asked another about a roll of cash he’d found stuffed into the toe of his boot. Wasn’t me, said the other. But you know, last time I was at a hunter’s gathering, I made mention I’d forgotten my kid’s birthday, I’m out on the road so much. Couple days later, I get a call from my kid. Apparently I’d mailed them a present, the very toy they’d been hoping I’d bring ‘em home. Now how the hell do you think that happened?

No one knew. But it kept happening.

Always it was something desperately needed, even if the recipient hadn’t known it right away. Something that might save a life, or make this hard scrabble life just a little easier. Sometimes it was an old cassette tape of country music love songs. Sometimes it was the last serving of pie from the party. Sometimes it was all the empty beer bottles and fast food wrappers missing from their car, a pine-scented air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror.

Sometimes it was just a note, taped to the steering wheel: somewhere out there, someone is alive because of you.

It didn’t happen at every hunter’s gathering, but enough that word spread. From the Canadian border in the northwest, down to the coven of white witches in Sedona, along old Route 66 and the old Men of Letters’ bunker, from the sea wind-blasted tip of Nova Scotia to the old French Quarter down in New Orleans. It became part of the legends hunters told themselves about themselves, a piece of their world, strange and unknowable, that rare something full of grace rather than ugliness or malice. Something that brought them joy. Something that helped them keep on living.

An unknown benefactor, hunters said. And whenever they got together, they’d laugh and raise a drink in honor of anonymous generosity.

Always on the outer edge of every gathering, dressed in their hunter attire, still learning how to be a part of this community, Castiel and Crowley would glance at one another, and smile.

The two always raised their glasses to the toast of the unknown benefactor, sipped at their drinks, silently shrugged off the appreciation, ignored the praise. They refused to make eye contact with Dean, who suspected, and avoided the inquiring looks from Sam and Eileen. Neither the reformed demon nor fallen angel wanted the gratitude. It was never about that.

The hunters and demonologists gave and asked for nothing in return. They risked their lives and their families and their souls for the greater good – and just as important, they gave of themselves to each other. In the open comfort and safety of their homes, in the long nights of storytelling and heaping platters of plenty and buying yet another round. In patching up physical wounds, and tending to those of the heart and mind. In the making and sharing of goods and spells and resources, in the creation of a community at these hunter gatherings. And they counted Crowley and Castiel among their number. Made them family. Gave them somewhere to belong. It was the greatest of gifts.

And so, in their own quiet way, the unknown benefactors gave in return.

***

Stories about “unknown benefactors” are rather common in communities during times of increasing social and political strife. I heard a number of them in Eastern Europe and then again in rural China, sometimes as memories of older people who had lived through one world war or another, some from younger people struggling through the aftermath of sectarian fighting. The stories were always like the ones told in the supernatural hunter community – someone, or more likely many someones all trying to take care of each other – would leave small gifts or do unexpected favors, without seeking recognition or thanks. Often, these stories included the storyteller saying that it was those small kindnesses that kept them going. Not because they hoped to benefit from it themselves, but because it reminded them that there was, in fact, as much good in the world as there is bad. It is only that we must look for it in ourselves, and offer it up to others. I was thinking about this again recently, and thought it made a nice little ficlet for a Crowley & Castiel team up as members of Team Free Will 2.0.

[thevoilinauttheory]

survivin’

[ FFxivWrite 2021 Prompt 8: Adroit ]

The Five Part “In the Dreams of Ashley” series is done! Go read the others here! {Prelude} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Wind} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Fire} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Water} {In the Dreams of Ashley: The Earth}

[ HEAVY HEAVY CONTENT WARNINGS: implied child abuse/assault, detailed suffocation, detailed burial while alive, heavy grief and regret surrounding death ]

[ video has lots of moving colors ]

Dreaming about being buried alive is very frightening and is a warning that all of the things in your life that are causing you anxiety and despair should be thrown away. You have let things build up to a point that you are no longer able to control anything and now you risk being completely destroyed.

==

Ashley was forced into a uniform with little knowledge as to why, having just woken up with a raging headache and handcuffs on. Confused was an understatement. “Y’good?” There was a soft voice that addressed him, a soft voice that belonged to a large man. His hand set on his shoulder, some level of comfort and grounding while he gathered his bearings. “Wh-What’s goin’ on?” “Y’don’t know?” “Pretty sure the knot on th’back o’ my head answers that.” The man let out a laugh, then nodded. “Guess so. Yer bein’ conscripted.” “Conscripted? How in the hells!” Ashley pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh… he should have been more upset about this, but honestly, it felt like the worst kind of inconvenience. Still, he didn’t fight it, worked with the flow of everything as he usually did. “Guess I’m stuck here.” “We all’re, friend.” “What’s your name, friend?” He snorted. “Hunter. Ya’?” “Ashley.” “Nice t’meet ya’ Ashley, too bad it ain’t on better terms.” He nodded in response.

-

“Yer gonna get caught.” Ashley chuckled. “I never get caught. That’s the thing ‘bout growin’ up in Ul’dah.” “Mm.” “Hand me your rations.” “Are y’kiddin’? I ain’t givin’ y’anythin’!” “Sure? Thought y’wanted to get out o’ here, same as me. N’if y’do, you’re gonna have t’give ‘em to me.” “Why?” “Uh… food to last us until we get home?” “N’how ‘bout the energy they’re makin’ us use t’fight?” Ashley snatched Hunter’s rations from him, stuffing them into a tight and inconspicuous corner with the rest of all of the little items he managed to get away with - some string, blades, pins, badges; even things like hair-ties and pens. Anything he could get away with shoving in his pocket, he did so. He bumped his elbow back into Hunter and lowered his voice. “Get somewhere else, someone’s ‘bout to come in.” “Eh? How’d’y’know?” “I’ll tell you later, jus’ get or we’re gonna get caught.” Hunter backed off, going back to his own belongings to check them off; leaving Ashley to slide a sizeable block of concrete in front of the hole in the wall, covering it completely. “Tucker!” “Yes, sir!” “What are you doing on the floor, get your arse up now.” “Sorry, sir! I dropped my badge.” He stood up, adjusting the collar of his uniform with a small pin on it.

-

“How are we going to get past them? Did you even think that far through?” The Auri woman that had joined along prodded at him while he was thinking. “Will you shut it?”

Four of them clamored and cramped in the vents, waiting for a good time to drop out of them. They were dressed in different uniforms, to match those of the area they were about to infiltrate. When an opening arose, he dropped out of the vent, brushed off his clothes, then pretended to idly look at the schedule board that was on the wall. Well, he was looking at it, but also waiting for another good time to signal another body. He tapped his chin, stretched his arms above his head as the last person in the hall walked past him - he held up a signed “C”, and waved his hand. That let the other two know to let Colette drop down first, she did just the same - brushing out her uniform before striking up an uninteresting conversation about the schedule.

They waited for the hallway to clear again. She held her thumb and forefinger together and waved, signaling Ruta to come down next. As the next crowd came through, she pretended to be scolding them. It cleared, Ashley waved, and down came Hunter. Hunter always came last - he wasn’t the best actor or liar, so they made sure that he could be ready to move immediately. They walked down the hall, past many unsuspecting soldiers and medics, until they were able to escape the facility they were locked up in. “Oh, thank gods.” Hunter let out a sigh of relief at the fresh air, no matter how cold it was. “Sh. We ain’t there yet. There’s still the entire damned city. Make sure your bags are on tight, n’if not, fasten them. I mean it. Y’gotta be ready to book it once we get through.” “What are we going to do after?” The question was, thankfully, vague enough to not alarm anyone they were passing by; but Colette anxiously gripped the shoulder belt to her bag. “Hoof it.” “On land? All the way back?” Ruta folded her arms over her chest. “I’ve worked it out already, trust me.”

-

“How in the hells did you manage that!” Ruta laughed as she ran across the snow, outside the metal confines of Garlemald. “It’s cold, but kami, it’s free!” “I came prepared.” “Is that why your bag is larger than ours.” “Yeah. Managed to snatch a few uniforms and some blankets. We’ve got a long way to walk - most of it’s dead here. No life whatsoever, just snow. Ruta, yer on the way back first.” “Wait… is that why we’re walking?” “Aye. Othard connects here - stowing away on a ship or airship would skip over you entirely. So prepare t’get intimate with one another, ‘cause we’re gonna need a lot of body heat.” Ruta stopped and blinked at him. “...Thank you.” “You can thank me when y’get home. After Ruta, we’re going to stowaway on a merchant vessel - it’ll look more Garlean than Hingan, but it’s goin��� to get hijacked by pirates from Limsa. Which is how we get Hunter home. After that, Colette n’I’re gonna hitch a ship back t’Vesper Bay, and I’ll walk her back home.” They all seemed… shocked. Appalled, even. That this stranger would go out of his way to know so much about the way back, and that he’d help them even. “Where’re y’goin’ after that?” Hunter pat Ruta’s shoulder to get her moving again. “Mm. Back home, maybe. I dunno. Maybe I can get a job like this.” He laughed.

==

“Mister?” “Mm?” Ashley looked up from his book, pipe hanging loosely from his mouth as his eyes caught a young girl standing next to him. Her face was red from crying, and looking over her clothes brought back memories and images he wished he didn’t have.

“...Need help?” His voice lowered, to not draw attention. She nodded, and he stood up from his seat to pull off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders - it was obviously too large, but that was the point. He pulled a hair-tie from his pocket to tie back her hair, so that its general style was different at a glance. He lifted her up to sit in the chair, having her hold the book up as if she were reading it. He placed his arm on the back of the chair, talking random nonsense about words in the book to the girl as his eyes caught a glimpse of several people walking in, looking around for something or someone. When he noticed the girl’s grip on the book tightened, he figured those were the people she was hiding from. He placed his hand on one of hers, holding the book up as well - and he kept his voice just as low.

“Relax… don’t show any tension. If they see white knuckles, they’ll get suspicious.” She did just that, nodding slowly. “Okay… uhm.” She was afraid her voice would be recognizable if she spoke, so she kept it low. “What’s this word mean?” “Eh?” He looked back at the book, noting she was just pointing at the word “the”, to which he smiled - she was trying to play along with him. “That word? Oh! That’s a name, sweetheart. I know, all them Elezen got such fancy names, y’could swear y’saw ‘em in a dictionary.” They kept on like that until he saw all of those same people leave. “There y’go. All gone. Need someplace safe t’stay?” “Mm..” She didn’t trust like that, and he noticed. He laughed, waving one of his hands. “Not with me. I have a friend who takes care of children goin’ through what you are. I can make sure y’get there with no problem. Unless you’ve got a place? I can take you wherever you need most.” She smiled a little bit, nodding. “Someplace safe… sounds nice.” “Good! Now up y’get. I’ll look inta these people that hurt you, okay?”

==

He stared down at those graves, the ones he made; carved up of nothing but rocks and dirt, with desert blooms laid in place. All the thoughts welled up there - what he could have done, what could have gone better. Memories of all the times they had, wondering why he never said more. A lot of things were left unsaid - Ruta never got to propose to Colette, they never got to choose the colors of their wedding, or what flowers, what food and drinks; they never got to dance, and the last sight of each other wasn’t even a damned smile!

He cursed himself silently.

Hunter never got to go on about his newest niece, never got to tell the unheard stories of his family, never got to see the world as much as he dreamed, never got into a bar fight with a pirate; that the last he’d see of him was a damned smile! He never got to tell him-- He never got to tell them…

Ashley stared at the graves and knew…. this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

He sat down in the dirt in front of them, offering some vague notion of a smile. “Y’won’t believe me. I know it. But… helped someone out today. Didn’t turn ‘em down. Didn’t make any snarky comments or nothin’. ‘Member that time out in the eastside of La Nocsea? It was like that, unfortunately. But, despite their faults n’corrupt nature, got the Blades t’clear ‘em all out after trackin’ ‘em to wherever they were hidin’.”

He let out a soft sigh. “...I miss y’all. So much. Y’meant so much to me. I was jus’ s’posed to take y’all home… n’y’stayed with me. You were my family… everythin’ I had. N’I… n’I jus’...” He shook his head. “I wish I could’ve done more. I… I… I love y’all, with all I could. Each n’every one o’ya’. I… never got t’tell you that. I hope… wherever y’are now… you know that. I’ll keep livin’ on, keep y’strong. Yer memories aren’t wasted, aren’t gone. Not yet. I’ll be damned if your story don’t get heard, though.”

He closed his eyes for just a moment

He snapped awake, not upright; he laid flat and stared at the pitch darkness in front of him. The bed below him was hard - it felt more like a floor. Wasn’t he in the dirt before? He could’ve sworn he was outside but a few seconds ago. It must’ve been a bad trip, lost all sense of time and ended up wherever he was now. All he had to do was find his stuff. He tried to sit up, only to slam his head on a short ceiling. “Augh… ow…” He tried to rub the spot he hit, only for his arm to scrape a wall right beside him. What was going on? He placed his hands flat on the shallow ceiling, feeling around - it was wood - he tried to find some means of escaping. There must’ve been a latch *somewhere*. One hand lowered to his pocket… most, if not all, of his gear and possessions were stripped of him; though he pat around to find an assortment of objects in the corners of his prison. When his hand landed on a lighter, it immediately lit up.

A coffin. Was he dead? Had they found him and buried him with his family? Did he… even want to be dead? The response of him slamming his hands on the lid and screaming for someone answered that question. There must’ve been a mistake, he wasn’t dead - he wasn’t! There was no way, none of this could be real. Dirt fell in between the cracks of the splintering shell he was incased in, no one was going to come. No one could hear him. He could feel the tears at his cheeks, the deepest recesses of his mind coming forward.

He didn’t want to die. He wasn’t ready to join them. “Gods, please… please…” He hoped some entity would come forth to dig him up and let him breathe. It was getting hot, he could barely catch his breath; like something stuck in his throat. He tried to cry for help again, met with the same silence. He could feel the blood rushing to his head, settling on his mouth and face and numbing his skin while he choked on nothing. He slammed his hands against the wood. Maybe there was just a small bit of air, if he could just get out. He dug his nails into the splinters and chips, tearing back his fingernails for just a *chance* at being able to dig his way to freedom. He was getting tired, though, exhausted. His chest hurt, and he could no longer hold up his arms. He stared at the darkness above him. Regardless of whether he wanted it or not, he could feel his vision fading - he tried to keep his eyes closed while gasping for the air that didn’t exist.

==

Ashley snapped awake, upright, this time; eyes forced closed by the brightness of the sun reflecting off the walls of the city - still in front of the graves of his family. He panted heavily, head reeling from the nightmare.

A nightmare.

Just a nightmare.

He was never so thankful for knowing it was just a dream.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Home Bound (Part 2)

Summary: With some help from Samson, Dean makes it back to the bunker and starts to process everything that’s happened...

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, angst, injury, mention of character death, mourning, supernatural events

A/N: Written entirely in Dean’s POV. Enjoy!

______

“Morning,” said Sam as I groggily sat up. He was cooking in the kitchen, humming a happy tune to himself.

“God, it’s barely seven in the morning,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

“I’ve already been up for an hour,” he said. “Eggs?”

“If you’re offering,” I said, stumbling over to his bathroom. I changed back into my clothes, yawning as I sat down at the table. He put down a cup of coffee and plate of scrambled eggs along with some hot sauce. 

“You got any money to get by?” he asked, standing at his counter eating.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, wolfing down my food. 

“Here,” he said, pushing an envelope towards me. I leaned over and grabbed it, opening it up to find a wad of money. “It’s about five hundred. S’all I got laying around the house. That enough to get you home?”

“Samson I can’t accept this,” I said, putting the envelope back.

“I wasn’t really asking,” he said, setting it down on the table next to me. “I’d let you take my car but I need it for work.”

“Sam, it doesn’t look like you got much. I’m not taking your life savings,” I said.

“I have a bank account, jackass. It’s not my savings. Don’t worry about it. Go home, take care of what needs to be done and yourself. You’re getting closer to popping. Pay it forward some day,” he said.

“Thanks,” I said, drinking down the last of my coffee. I tucked the envelope in my pocket and he set his mug down.

“I’ll drive you to the bus station,” he said. I put on my boots by the front door as he rummaged around in a closet. He pulled out a black winter coat and held it out to me. “For if you decide you need a walk again.”

“Write down your address,” I said, handing him back the envelope.

“Alright. I don’t want any money or the jacket back. Send me a Christmas card or something,” he said. He returned it after a moment and grabbed his keys as I slipped into the coat. “Better?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Thanks man.”

“S’no problem. Let’s get you home.”

36 Hours Later

My hands were shoved in the fleece lined pockets as I walked up the dirt road to the bunker. The ice storm in Colorado had followed me all the way back to Kansas but the hooded winter coat made all the difference in the world. I couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and curl up in bed with one of Y/N’s blankets. 

What happened after...I wasn’t going to be able to put off later for much longer. Now that I was home though, I could let go and get my head on straight in the morning to figure out what had happened.

With a deep breath I stepped down to the door and opened it up. The heat had been left on and the hallway was cozy. I stepped through to the other door inside and found the lights were on too, exactly as they were when we’d all headed out. Just in case, Y/N said. She didn’t want to come home to a dark house.

I headed down the stairs and cut into the library, the space feeling far too big for just me.

“I miss you,” I said. I pinched my nose and heard a creak behind me. I spun around, eyes wide.

“Dean?” said Sam. My Sam, the one that must have died, must have, was right there, in pajamas and with a bowl of chips in his hand.

“I die and now you eat the crap, Sammy?” I said. He set the bowl down and rushed over, giving me a hug. “I’m getting you all wet.”

“Don’t care,” he said. He squeezed me hard and I let out a tiny gasp, Sam giving me some room after that. He looked confused though and shook his head. “How…”

“Was gonna ask you the same thing,” I said.

“I didn’t die. You pushed me out of the way,” he said.

“I don’t remember that,” I said. “You were right there. Since I woke up I assumed…”

Sam was smiling at me still but the hunter in him finally kicked in. I nodded to the cabinet where everything he’d need to test me was. Three minutes later he was hugging me too hard again.

“Relax, Sammy. Gonna pop my shoulder back out,” I said. He immediately released me and I cradled my arm. “I fixed it already.”

“Still. You should wear the sling Y/N bought,” he said. We wandered over to the infirmary and he dug around in a drawer until he pulled it out.

“Is she…” I said, taking off my jackets and slipping it on over my head. Sam shook his head and I sighed. “You don’t know that for sure. Up until five minutes ago you thought I was dead too.”

“True but, you know,” he said. I nodded, staring at the floor. “Cas is alright. Billie got him back from the empty. He’s up in heaven trying to help keep that going. They’re trying out this new method or something.”

“Not your memories?” I asked, heading for the kitchen.

“No. I mean kinda. More like, collective afterlife? It uses a lot less power I guess,” said Sam. “They’re doing small test groups right now he said. I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“How’s he alive again?” I asked.

“Billie brought him back,” he said as we walked over to the kitchen.

“How’s Jack?”

“He’s doing okay. He got pretty hurt during the fight. I took care of him for a few weeks before he headed out. New God and all. He’s still learning.”

“He bring me back?” I asked.

“He doesn’t know how to do that yet. He says he feels like he will be able to someday, like it’s in his bones but he doesn’t know quite right now how to pull it off,” said Sam.

“So how am I back?”

“I honestly have no idea,” he said. I took a seat at the table, catching Y/N’s mug sat at the end in her usual spot. “We gave you guys a hunter’s funeral. There’s a little marker up in the woods a ways, in that clearing you two used to go have dates in.”

“There’s no body then.”

“No. Where’d you wake up?” he asked, taking two beers out of the fridge.

“Middle of nowhere Colorado,” I said. “Any idea why?”

“No, not really. Any place we ever hunt?”

“No. I met a guy. Samson, apparently dad and I saved his folks back in the day while you were at school. But they didn’t live there. I never...I never met the guy,” I said. “He knew who I was but he’d never met me.”

“You think he was lying?”

“He was nice to me when I was an ass. I don’t think he was playing at anything. How would he know what I looked like though?”

“It’s possible I suppose that he reached out to other hunters and learned more about you? I mean the girls got pictures of us. Maybe Eileen?”

“Maybe,” I said, shaking my head. “Shit, Sam. How’s-”

“She’s good,” said Sam with a small smile. “She’s over in Lawrence at the moment actually. She’s looking at houses for us.”

“You guys deserve to finally be together,” I said. “She’s good for you.”

“I know.”

“Gonna stop hunting?”

“I don’t really need to anymore. We kind of turned them all human,” said Sam. I cocked my head and he shrugged. “The hail mary? It worked. No more monsters.”

“That’s great,” I said, forcing a smile. Great. I couldn’t even bury myself in hunting to feel slightly less crappy. I was worthless.

“I’m heading out to meet Eileen in a few days. Come with me.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna intrude or-”

“You can have some space but you’re not staying here alone,” he said.

“Y/N’s dead. I have no job now. I’m not gonna be the brooding mope sitting at the end of your couch when you finally get to be with your girl.”

“Dean,” said Sam as I stood up.

“I really want to shower and sleep, Sammy. I’m cold and exhausted. Please,” I said.

“You’re gonna come with,” he said. I clenched my fist and glared over my shoulder. “Y/N wrote you a letter for if she didn’t make it back. It’s in your room. When I thought you both...I read it in case she wanted something to be done after she was gone. You know the only thing she said? You need to go live your life. She loves you and wants you to be happy.”

“Easy for her to say. She’s not here,” I said.

“Dean. I know this is raw for you and I’ve had four months to deal you didn’t. Don’t disrespect what she wanted.”

“Oh fuck you,” I said. I stormed out, pausing around the corner. I heard him behind me and slumped my shoulders down. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” he said.

“She was supposed to live, not me,” I said. “Cause she’s stronger than I am and I can’t deal with her not being in that bedroom when I go down this hall.”

“Dean. Grieve. Please. For the first time in your life, grieve properly. When you’re ready, you and me will go out to Lawrence. I’m gonna call Eileen and make sure she finds a place where you got a big room and your own bathroom and garage and all that. Until then, I’m gonna stay here. Ignore me, yell at me, whatever. I’m staying. Alright?”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I want a pool too.”

“Dean.”

“Hot tub.”

“We’ll put one in.”

“Fine,” I said. He ruffled my hair and I headed down to the bathroom. I slipped out of my clothes, pulling out the envelope with a few hundred dollars left. “Sammy.”

“What?” he called back.

“Figure out who this guy was,” I said, holding the envelope out the door. “That’s his name and address.”

“Whiltiston,” said Sam, making a face. “You sure this is his name?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You wouldn’t know. About two months back, the Whiltiston family was in the news. National news. They’d been reunited with their daughter who was kidnapped as an infant. She was safe. The people who took her pretended to be her parents. They were real sickos. I’d hunt ‘em down if they weren’t already dead,” said Sam.

“So this guy’s her brother?” I asked.

“Yeah, there was a brother Sam I remember mentioned at the press conference. They didn’t show anyone but the dad but they were all really happy to be back together,” he said.

“Still doesn’t explain how he knows what I look like.”

“They said the girl has a sketchy memory of certain things. I mean they were bad people, Dean. It’s possible we worked her case and didn’t know?” he said.

“See if you can dig up a phone number for me too,” I said.

“Yeah. I’ll see if...you know, we’ve been in the national news before too. It’s entirely possible that one of his parents saw us on the news and told him that was you.”

“Oh. That’s...a lot more likely,” I said, frowning to myself. “Forget about it. Could you just slip in some extra cash in there for me? I’ll send it back along with the coat. The guy didn’t have much.”

“No problem. I’ll get you the phone number too. I know you’ll drive yourself nuts if you don’t know for sure.”

“Sam,” I said as he started to leave. “I’m really happy you’re not dead.”

“Me too. Take your shower. I’ll put out some pajamas for you.”

I nodded and shut the door, resting my head against the back of it. After a moment I went to the shower and turned the water on, forgetting about the prickly heat until my skin turned a slight pink and started to warm up. Somehow I got through with washing myself before I saw Y/N’s shampoo staring back at me in the cubby. I swallowed and picked it up, flipping open the cap and taking a deep inhale.

It took awhile and one concerned knock at the door to realize at some point I’d sat down with my knees in my chest, Y/N’s shampoo sat on the ground beside me.

“Dean? You okay? You’ve been in there for an hour,” said Sam. I buried my head down and heard the door creek open. “Dean? Answer me or I’m coming in.”

“I’m fine,” I said, voice raw and cracking with every syllable. Sam didn’t open the door anymore but he was still there.

“Turn off the water,” he said. I reached up and hit it off, wiping the back of my hand across my nose. “You have one minute to dry off and put on a towel.”

The door shut and I forced myself to get up. I patted myself off and got a towel around my waist, trying to wash my face off before Sam saw me.

“I’m coming in,” said Sam. One look at him said more than enough and I looked away. “I told you to grieve.”

“Her freaking shampoo bottle,” I said. Sam looked over to the shower and saw it on the ground, running his hand through his hair. “Why can’t I shove it down like every other time?”

“You know why. There’s no chance of you getting her back and she wouldn’t want you to do something stupid. You loved her. You’re always gonna love her. Dean, I’ve been there with Jessica. It’s gonna fuck you up real good for a while. I thought I’d never be happy again, not like that, and then I found Eileen. It feels like the end of your life but it’s not,” he said. “It’s not going away if you shove it down so just feel it.”

“Yeah,” I said. I brushed past him and went to my room, shutting the door to change. I left it closed and sat on the edge of the bed, catching his shadow under the door. It moved away after a minute and I let out a sigh. The room smelled musty which I appreciated. It was something different to focus on. 

I rolled over to Y/N’s side of the bed and saw the letter Sam had mentioned on her nightstand. I ripped it off and found it wasn’t as long as I’d expected. She probably did it last minute.

De, I love you. I’m always going to love you. I need you to try to keep loving and not shut the world out. Find some happiness again or I’m gonna haunt you like I’m your own personal Casper. Okay? You’ll get there someday. My big green flannel is in the closet if you need it. Be safe (I’ll keep an eye out for you though, promise).

My head glanced up and over to the closet, staring before I stood and opened it. At the end was her big oversized green flannel. She’d stolen so many of my clothes over the years she’d decided to get something of hers I could take for myself.

I pulled it off the hook and brought it back to bed, tugging it on before I lay back on the mattress.

It too was a little musty but there was the faint scent of her shampoo again filling the air. 

“Fuck, I miss you,” I said. I shut my eyes and turned off the light, hoping exhaustion would put me to sleep quickly.

_______

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

[basilhearsanoise]

Guardian Angels - Chapter 1

A Memory Formed, Then All but Wiped Away

Dean Winchester was born on a cold January morning in 1979, when the sun had not yet risen. He wouldn’t hear his name for a few years after that, though. You see, when Mary, Dean’s mother, found out she was pregnant, her husband John said, “We should name the kid after your folks. Always talk about how you miss ‘em. Be a good way to keep ‘em alive,” and Mary liked that idea very much.

So when the doctors told them they were going to have a baby girl - because doctors like to play god in these situations almost as much as God does - Mary knew that she would name the child after her mother. Deanna was a beautiful name, after all. It was only a few hours after they got home from that visit, however, that their two sons burst in from over 30 years in the future, and brought the preamble to the apocalypse with them. One of whom, they’ve seen before - as a hunter on a case, as a car enthusiast. As a man. Who says to her, “It’s kind of hard to believe. I’m your son.”

Mary doesn’t get to remember her son’s face for very long, because angels are meddlesome creatures and time travel doesn’t usually rest easy on the human psyche. But she finds herself thinking of the strange hunter who was there that night with the yellow-eyed demon. He’d really been trouble, but he’d tried so hard to help. Her memory of him became more sentimental, somehow, without her even really noticing the change. She wonders if that hunter was some kind of spirit, a ghost sent to warn her about that night. The night she tries to not ever think about, but yet, always comes crawling back to the front of her mind. It all seems to have so much - so much meaning, something more that she can’t quite put her finger on. Suddenly, she feels a cosmic presence in her life, and she knows, deep down, it’s because of her baby.

“I’m tellin’ you, this kid is gonna be somebody,” she says to John as she dotes over their newborn. “Isn’t that right?” She coos. “That’s right! You’ve got angels watching over you!”

—

“No. Dean,” Dean corrects his mother, chocolate melting in his tiny three-year-old hands. It’s all over his face. Some of it’s in his hair, too, like tar stuck to a bail of hay. His voice is garbled, a toddler unable to properly enunciate to save his life, but still, alarmingly clear and concise.

Mary, exhausted, at her wit’s end, holds the dress out to him for the millionth time. “Deanna, pl—“

“No!” Dean is more hurt, now, and the tantrum is well on its way. “I won’t! I don’ like it!” The rest is mostly unintelligible screaming. Smearing his chocolate all over the dress, he turns and runs, crying.

John tries to pick him up and cradle him but he kicks and yells and punches. They have to have a talk about violence after that, that it’s not nice to hit and scream. It’s the first and last conversation on the topic Dean will ever get from his parents.

Not long after that, the preschool calls, says Dean has “caused a scene in class.” They tried to separate the boys and girls for a game, and he went with the boys. When they tried to stop him, he threw a fit and had to be excused for the rest of the day. And then the next day, and the next, and the next.

Mary and John are at a loss. Their son is insisting he is their son, but like any parent, they are having trouble believing it. Mary thinks about the hunter from that night more and more now. What did he say his name was again? There was something so familiar about all of this, almost like Mary was back on an old hunting case. But no, she gave that up…she couldn’t call any of her contacts and see if they know anything about her kid…could she?

…Ring, ring.

“Hello Mary,” Missouri answers, the grin already apparent in her voice.

No matter how many times she did that, it always freaked Mary out, just a little. But at least you knew she was the real deal as soon as she picked up the phone.

“Hi Missouri, it’s good to speak to you.”

“Mm. I don’t think it is. At least, the subject matter doesn’t seem like it will be good.” Missouri twiddles the phone cable around her finger. “John’s not going to like it. You’ll warm up to it though. I’ll be over soon.”

Click.

Laughing, but mostly out of shock, Mary puts down the receiver. After all this time, you’d think she’d stop being surprised by how good Missouri is. But that level of psychic ability is uncanny enough to throw anyone through a loop. Better make sure John would be gone that afternoon. She was not ready to explain this to him.

When Missouri walks in, she throws her arms around Mary warmly. “Now,” she asks, looking around. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you Mary, I haven’t even met your boy. Go and fetch him, I want to meet him before we get down to whatever nasty business you called about.”

Mary pulls the sides of her mouth back in a gesture that could only be interpreted as: yikes.

“Missouri, I…I don’t quite know how to say this, but our…” The words feel strange in her mouth, but what’s really strange is that…she thought they’d feel stranger. “….my son…is what I called about.”

Missouri raises an eyebrow.

“Is there something wrong with him? I haven’t sensed any evil presences in the house.”

Mary still doesn’t quite know what to say, stutters a little.

Perplexed, but intrigued, Missouri says, “Well go and get him. I’ll see for myself.”

With a shrug, Mary goes to the kitchen. “Honey…put down your toys, Mommy wants you to meet a friend.”

Dean waddles into the living room, still clutching his favorite toy car. He clings to his mother’s skirt, but waves at Missouri, who looks him up and down from his dirty shoes to the top of his baggy overalls.

“What have you got there?” She asks.

“Vroom!” Dean answers, showing her how the car shoots forward when you wind the wheels back on the floor.

Missouri laughs heartily in agreement. “Yes, sweetheart. What a lovely toy. It’s nice to meet you, Dean.”

His little eyes shimmer up at her, his face slowly peeling into a wide, wide grin. He giggles and keeps playing with his car.

Mary stares at Missouri in disbelief, opens her mouth to speak, but can’t find words. She slowly sits down on the couch. Dean follows his car back into the kitchen and can be heard vrooming about the house. For a moment that’s all the noise there is, until Mary can finally gather herself enough to say, “Missouri, I…I don’t understand.”

Missouri walks over and sits next to her, gently takes her hand. “Mary, you know that there are things in this world that are not easy to understand at first, but that doesn’t make them any less real.”

“Well, yes,” Mary replies, flustered, afraid. “Ghosts, ghouls…but you’re not saying he’s a monster, are you?”

Missouri’s expression darkens a little. “The world will surely tell you he is one. But nothing could be further from the truth. People like Dean have always existed, just like people like me have always existed. It’s perfectly natural. Most people just don’t believe we’re real.”

Mary is still completely at a loss. Missouri squeezes her hand. “Your son is transgender, Mary,” she continues gently. “I can see into his soul and see that he’s a little boy, just like any other, except he’s in a world that can’t see him the way I can.”

It’s as if someone took a needle and jabbed it into Mary’s brain. Flashes of Dean’s adult face begin to swim through her mind.

“I’m your son.”

Could these memories be real or was she going mad? It was all so overwhelming. She throws her arms around Missouri and begins to sob. Missouri can sense that something in her mind has opened up, that had been locked tight, and it unnerves her to think what could have turned the key. She holds her dear friend close until she can recover enough to catch her breath.

“What do I do?” Mary whimpers, looking towards the kitchen, towards Dean.

“You love him,” Missouri replies. “You respect him.”

“H-…how?”

“Well…” Missouri tries her best to be matter-of-fact. “First you have to talk to John and get him on board.” Mary’s eyes roll a little. Getting John to change his mind about anything was going to be a hassle. “Then…you call the school. Tell them to call him by the right name. Tell your friends to call him by the right name…not much else to it, darling.”

“But…what happens when…he grows up? How will…”

“I have some friends who might be able to help you,” Missouri says warmly. “But you can cross that bridge when you come to it. It’s all about doing what’s necessary now, and simply listening is the most important thing when children are young. Follow his lead, honey. He knows what he needs.”

Dean runs into the living room again. “Mommy, sammich?” He beams.

Mary can’t help but laugh as she wipes away her tears. Dean notices and instantly hugs her knees. “Don’t cry, mommy,” he pleads. “I love you.”

“I love you too…Dean,” Mary shakily replies, rustling his hair the way she always does.

Dean looks up, his face somehow happier than before. He reaches up to her in the way all toddlers do when they want to be held, and she scoops him up into her arms. Missouri smiles at the sight.

“You want a sandwich?” Mary asks her, still processing, but trying to inject some humor into the situation now.

“That sounds lovely,” Missouri answers. “I think I’ll have mine with the crusts cut off, too. That’s your favorite, isn’t it, Dean?”

“Yes!” Dean gurgles happily as Mary places him at the kitchen table.

“Alright, three sandwiches, hold the crust, comin’ right up,” Mary laughs. Later, she knew things were going to get messy. But for now, they could all sit down and enjoy a nice snack.

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

Blame Me - Chapter 5

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Specified gender: Female

Word Count: 12K

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader,

TW: Canon typical violence, canon divergence, gore, murder, mention of past child death, mention of major character death (OC), Daryl and Aaron bonding time, Daryl and y/n bonding time, major character death

Genre: Horror ig?

Series: Blame Me

Requests: CLOSED

Masterlist

A/N: Okay, this is probably my least favourite chapter, but I can’t wait to write the next chapters. Chapter 6 and 7 are gonna be painful y’all so good luck. Enjoy!

<i>Daryl was quiet, Beth noticed. He was always quiet, but not like this. He hadn't been like this since after he'd lost his girl. Not that anyone knew that except for his asshole older brother. Beth was worried, about everyone, but right now, she was worried for Daryl most of all. Any time he <b>did</b> open his mouth, something sarcastic, cold or cynical came out. It wasn't like him. Maybe in the early days, but definitely not now. He couldn't stop thinking about everyone they'd lost. Not just at the prison, everyone they'd lost along the way. Even who he'd lost before. He didn't have much to lose before, but the people he had, were everything. She was everything. But she was gone. Probably dead. He was just holding out hope on another pipe dream. But even despite that, he couldn't bring himself to remove his ring. The cool metal almost burnt his skin whenever he thought about her, or anyone else he'd lost. Like a reminder of his failure. Since the prison had fallen, every day with Beth felt like a blur.

He shouldn't dwell on it, he knew that, but he couldn't help but wonder how many people died. How many people got out. If anyone other than him and Beth did. Part of him thought that it didn't matter.  Hershel was dead because he didn't kill the Governor when he had the chance. He owed it to the vet to protect his daughter. And somehow, that had ended up with them in some old shed, something similar to what he and Merle would have lived in once upon a time, in the middle of the woods. Somehow, he'd ended up playing a dumb game, like some damn teenagers. At least Beth wasn't too far off. He took a sip of the moonshine as she started explaining, clearly slightly tipsy from her first-ever drink.

"So first, I say something I've never done and if you have done it, you drink, and if you haven't, I drink. Then we switch. You really don't know this game?" Beth raised her eyebrows in surprise, not deterred by his so-called "intimidating" stare. Daryl moved the hand that was in front of his face, shifting his position slightly.

"I never needed a game to get lit before."

"Wait, are we startin'?" She asked, and while her face stayed the same, Daryl picked up on the teasing lilt in her voice, eyes shining slightly.

"How do you know this game?" He questioned, using his pinky to point at her

"My friends played. I watched," She shifted slightly before lightly shaking her head "Okay, I'll start. I've never shot a crossbow. So now you drink."

Daryl reached forward to the glass of water and lifted it to his mouth, looking just as unamused as before "Ain't much of a game."

"That was a warm-up. Now you go," Beth insisted but Daryl just stared back at her for a second, shrugging.

"I don't know."

"Just say the first thing that pops into your head," She shot back with a small smile. Plenty of things popped into his head, but they were too personal to share with Beth. Too much about his girl. He didn't know if he was ready to tell her yet. Daryl knew Beth wouldn't care, not really, but just thinking about her made his brain and chest hurt. An aching he couldn't get rid of.

"I've never been out of Georgia," Was the answer he settled on. He was gonna leave Georgia, right after his hunting trip. Leave early, fly to South Carolina and surprise (Y/N) and her ma. But it never happened. Dead made sure of that. Beth's eyebrows rose slightly. He was an outdoorsy guy, a hunter. She thought he'd have been all over.

"Really? Okay, good one. I've never... been drunk and did somethin' I regretted," She stated after taking a sip of her drink. Beth knew she was starting to push the line slightly. Knew his fuse was slightly shorter after the prison. But he didn't bat an eye, just reached forward and had a drink.

"I've done a lot of things," He replied, keeping his gaze on the table. Yeah, like leave his girl behind. Didn't even go looking. What kind of husband didn't even try to find his wife when the world ended? "I never been on vacation."

"What about campin'?" Beth questioned but Daryl shook his head immediately.

"No, that was just something I had to learn to hunt," Because, his family were shitty people, and didn't even think to go looking when he went missing as a kid. Not that he added that.

"Your dad teach you?" She asked, and she knew that the line was getting toed here. She'd never asked about his dad, but from interactions she'd overheard with Daryl and Rick, sometimes Carol or even Carl, their relationship hadn't been pretty. Daryl released a hum of agreement.

"Alright... never have I ever been in love," Beth said, and she saw Daryl's eyes flicker down to the ring she still wore from when she was still with Jimmy. She didn't really expect much, but it was the only thing that came to mind.  His eyebrows furrowed slightly, bristling at the implication behind her words, and he found himself spinning his own ring with his thumb, absentmindedly.

"The hell ya implyin'" He snapped, eyes narrowing slightly, and Beth looked slightly alarmed by how defensive he got and how quickly. She'd seen his explosive temper before but she'd never been at the brunt of it. But Daryl didn't back down, even as she showed him her scared eyes. The damn girl had no right prying. He'd played her stupid ass game, given her some stupid ass answers. But then, he swore he saw (Y/N) in the corner, giving him that disapproving look that made him swallow any anger he'd had right up, and he looked to the floor, taking a second to breathe.

"Ya ain't ever been in love?" It was clear Daryl was asking about Jimmy and Zach. His brain wandered to Zach, asking him every day without fail about what he did before the apocalypse; getting bitten on the way out of that store; getting crushed by the helicopter. Having to deliver the news to beth, who didn't even react.

"I loved Jimmy sure, but I wasn't in love with him. Zach neither. Meant a lot to me, both of 'em but, never loved 'em like that. I only married Jimmy because I thought we were the last ones left," Beth explained, and to anyone else, it would have sounded cold. But Daryl understood. This world did weird shit to your brain, and it didn't surprise him that she'd latched to Zach and Jimmy. While he was thinking, Beth watched his expression. She noticed the look of despair that crossed his face quickly, and how it hardened a second after. And finally, after over a year of them being in the group together, she saw his ring, as he brought his arm to rest on his knee so his other hand could twirl it. He hadn't even noticed he'd done it. He bit his lip, deep in thought, before he looked up and saw Beth's expectant eyes.

"Did you have to kill her?" If that didn't get under his skin he didn't know what would. No disapproving look from his not-there wife could stop the rage bubbling in his chest. It boiled up his neck, to his face and he just knew he'd gone slightly red. Almost immediately, he saw regret on Beth's as he stood up.

"I'm going to take a piss," Daryl snarled, picking up one of the empty jars on the table and smashing it as he made his way over to the corner of the room. He heard Beth's breath hitch in a suppressed gasp of surprise.

"You have to be quiet!" Beth hissed, and that only pissed him off more. He knew there were walkers outside, knew he was being stupid, but she'd started prying. Drunk or not, she'd gone too far and he'd had enough.

"Can't hear ya! 'M taking a piss!" He yelled back, to which Beth shot back some response about being quiet, as he unzipped and started doing his business "What, are ya ma chaperone now?"

Daryl zipped himself back up but didn't bother to do his belt up, and it clanked against his button. He knew this would be a good place to drop it since she had gone silent, but she'd taken a dig at him. One way too personal. One that involved <b>his</b> family. One she had no business in. So he whirled around, voice much louder than it should have been.

"Oh, wait. It's my turn, right? I've never-never eaten frozen yoghurt. Never had a pet pony. Never got nothin' from Santa Claus," He slammed his hand against the cluttered table he stood next to, as the emotions that had built up over the past few days finally poured out. Beth looked scared, but there was anger dwelling behind her eyes too "Never relied on anyone for protection before. Hell, I don't think I've ever relied on anyone for anything."

Daryl had started pacing, and he narrowed in on the blonde, tone sharp and cold. He knew he was lying at that point. True, he'd never relied on anyone for protection. But he'd relied on his girl for so much that he didn't even know where that list started or ended. She just swam in his head, and she could see those disapproving eyes again. Normally they were directed at Merle, but now they were directed to him, real or not, it stung being at the end of her contempt. And that only pushed him over the edge. Beth tried to stop him with a call of his name, but now he'd begun there was little that would stop him.  

"Never sung out in front of a big group out in public like everythin' was fun. Like everything was a big game. Never got to say goodbye to ma wife. Never got to know if she was alive, dead, turned, murdered. I sure as hell never cut my wrists looking for attention," Beth didn't flinch when he brought up her failed suicide attempt. But when he mentioned (Y/N), that sad look was there again, and the anger in her eyes faded.

Daryl hadn't meant to say it, but he was so furious, so sad, so frustrated, so mad at the world, that it had slipped out, in a rare moment of vulnerability. He sprung the walls back up as soon as he'd let them down.

A crashing at the door and the growling of walkers made his head snap to the door, so fast he swore it should have snapped. And he couldn't stop. The seething, burning feeling was eating him up.

"Oh, sounds like our friend out there is trying to call his buddies," He tripped over the pans and pots and various other shit on the floor, making way too much noise. If he wasn't so angry, he would be cursing himself out now. He was sure he'd do that later.

"Daryl, just shut up," Beth begged through gritted teeth, but Daryl just turned around and pointing, a sharp smile playing on his lips. If Merle were here, he'd tell him he looked just like their Daddy. And he did, as much as he hated it. If his girl were here, she would be screaming at him. by now. She would have stopped him by now. But they were both gone. Just like everyone else.

"Hey, you never shot a crossbow before? I'm gonna teach you right now. Come on," Before he'd fully processed what he was doing, Daryl had grabbed Beth's arm, dragging her to the door and kicking it open. "It's gonna be fun."

"We should stay inside! Daryl, cut it out! Daryl!" She protested, screaming out as she tried to fight out of her grip but he wouldn't let her go.

"Dumbass. Come here, dumbass," Daryl whistled and the walker stumbled over, before he put a bolt in its shoulder, pinning it to the tree behind it. "You wanna shoot?"

"Daryl, I don't know how!" She exclaimed, fighting as Daryl pulled her in front of him, holding her in place with one hand as he got ready to shoot with the other.

"Oh, it's easier. Right corner," A bolt landed in the walker's leg and Beth finally broke free, turning around to face the redneck as he stepped away slightly, so he could pull the string back into place.

"C'mon it's fun," He was being fueled by unbridled rage and adrenaline now. A tiny voice in the back of his mind, that sounded suspiciously like Rick told him he'd regret this later but he pushed it away. Instead, he pulled Beth back into the previous position and shot the walker right where it's dead, rotting heart was.

"Kill it!"  Daryl let go again as he stormed ahead to the walker.

"Come here, Greene. Let's pull these out. Get a little more target practice," Beth had decided that was enough, and with an annoyed huff, she sped ahead of Daryl to plant her knife into the walker's forehead "What the hell you do that for? We was having fun."

"No! You were being a jackass! If someone found your wife-" She growled back, and Daryl's glare burned into her but it didn't deter her, even as he got right into her face.

"Don't. That ain't remotely the same," Daryl shot back, rage burning through every vein, every organ, every muscle. But Beth knew she'd gotten to him, even if it was just a little bit.

"Killin' them ain't supposed to be fun!" She said, her own eyebrows coming into a glare and Daryl stepped even closer.

"What do ya want from me, girl?"

"I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap about anythin'! Like nothin', we went through matters. Like none of the people we lost meant anythin' to you. It's bullshit!" Beth finally yelled back, frustration making tears build behind her eyes but that only seemed to rile Daryl up more, even if it had been toned down. Didn't give a shit? She really thought he didn't care? He'd damn near died for his people. He'd killed for his people and she thought he didn't give a shit?

"Is that what you think? Huh?" The only thing he could think as he heard himself were the words he'd said to his brother years ago, that was coming back to bite him in the ass. You really are our Daddy's son.

"That's what I know," Her words were instant, and Daryl could tell from her tone that they'd been building up for a while. But his mouth moved before his brain could fully process the thought.

"You don't know nothin'," He hissed, looking away for a second, as his voice wavered slightly.

"I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl. I'm not Michonne. I'm not Carol. I'm not Maggie. I've survived and you don't get it 'cause I'm not like you or them. But I made it and you don't get to treat me like crap just because you're afraid," Hell, if that didn't make him stop. His chest heaved as she spoke, his body taking a moment to recover from the anger that had made him shake. Been a while since he'd been that pissed off. But those final words, made his eyes narrow again, just as they'd softened.

"I ain't afraid of nothin'," Daryl stated, leaning in again. Beth had a look in her eye, telling him she didn't believe him. And she was right. He was scared every damn day. Every single damn time he thinks he's the most scared he'll ever be, some new herd, some new asshole, some new loss takes its place.

"I remember. When that little girl came out of the barn after my mom. You were like me," Daryl couldn't meet her eyes. He had been like her once. When he left for a hunting trip he never came back from. Then, he got stuck with his piece of shit older brother and became that asshole again. Then his brother was gone, and he had a new family. He wasn't who he had been with (Y/N), didn't know if he ever would be like that again, but it had been a start. Until the governor took that from him too "And now God forbid you ever let anybody get too close."

Every time someone got close, they died. Or put at great risk, or went missing, or got bit.

"Too close, huh? Ya know all about that. Ya lost two boyfriends, ya can't even shed a tear. Yer whole family's gone, all ya can do is just go out lookin' for hooch like some dumb college bitch," It was a low blow, but he was so drunk, so angry, he was struggling to get his words out like they were getting stuck in his throat.

"And your wife is gone and you don't say shit! Your brother died and you closed off! At least I talk about the ones I've lost instead of pretendin' like nothin' happened or like they didn't exist!" She snapped back, and the second the words left her mouth, she looked like she wanted to take them right back. Daryl stopped right there, frozen like a deer in headlights before turning around. Beth tried to reach for him but he shrugged out of her touch.

"Y'ain't got the right," He huffed out, the last of his anger dissipating, and he felt that void opening up again. The one that haunted him anytime he thought about his wife for too long. His shoulders deflated, and his gaze fixed on the back of the shed they'd found. Beth was hovering behind him, he could feel it. "The Governor rolled right up to our gates. Maybe if I wouldn't have stopped looking. Maybe 'cause I gave up. That's on me."

"Daryl-" Beth tried again, sympathy lacing her voice but he just shook her off once more. She watched as his shoulders tensed, and she prepared for him to rip into her again but instead, they started shaking lightly. Everything was crashing down on him all at once and he couldn't shake the thought of his girl alone, trying to survive on her own. Or his girl, eyes milky white and lifeless, feet dragging and body acting like dead weight as her pale, rotting skin peeled off.

"And ma girl? Maybe I could've done somethin'. Maybe I could've helped her," His voice cracked, the emotions finally crashing over him in a wave, and this time he didn't stop Beth as she wrapped her arms around his middle, head pressed against his back. He didn't stop the tears or the sobs that escaped him.

"I get why my dad stopped drinking," Beth's voice broke the peaceful silence that had fallen between them. Crickets and the wind brustling the trees were the only sounds as Daryl looked over to her, sat on the porch in the pale moonlight.

"Ya feel sick?" He asked, twirling his knife on the wooden panels beside him, glancing over dark eyelashes.

"Nope. I wish I could feel like this all the time. That's bad," She responded. Her hands were playing with the loose threads on her jeans, and she had this happy look in her eye. Too happy, but he didn't say anything. Not this time.

"Yer lucky yer a happy drunk," Daryl felt that stab of guilt again, as he thought back to the argument earlier. The one he could've dropped, but instead he blew it out of proportion and turned into Merle. Into his daddy.

"Yeah, I'm lucky. Some people can be real jerks when they drink," Beth gave him a pointed look, eyebrows raised slightly, but there was a small smile on her face.

"Yeah, 'm a dick when 'm drunk," He stabbed his knife into the wood and he let out a small huff before reluctantly opening his mouth again "Merle had these biker friends. Real buff, stern assholes. Didn't give a shit 'bout nobody but themselves. One day, he dragged me along with 'em to this back alley bar. Real dodgy place. Was barely 10 and we were all wasted. Merle was high. There was this girl with her friend and the guys wouldn't stop runnin' their mouths. Especially Merle. Never knew when to quit. Turns out, girl had heard everythin' they'd been sayin' 'bout her and her friend. She comes stormin' over, face red, lookin' pissed as all hell and starts gettin' in this guys face. Merle decides it's a good idea to grab her ass, and she goes for him, punches him right in the eye. Gave him one hell of a shiner."

Beth let out a small giggle as she took a sip of her moonshine and Daryl's lips quirked up slightly. His fingers worked to spin his ring around again and again and she watched it with a glimmer of shock that still hadn't faded away.

"I tried gettin' between and she shoved me away. But one of Merle's buddies, he don't like that. So, he pulls out his gun and raises it over ma shoulder to her face, right here," He points to the gap between his eyebrows, watching as Beth's own eyebrows rose "And this bar goes dead silent. C'aint hear a damn thang, but she just glares back. His buddy starts threatenin' her, sayin' how he's gonna do all these things to her and she don't say anythin'. Just looks back at him. All that because she stood up for herself," Daryl couldn't help but smile at the memory, despite how much it had freaked him out at the time. Only time he didn't get pissed at someone for hitting his brother. Fool deserve it.

"How'd she get out?" Beth asked, leaning forward slightly like she was on the edge of her seat.

"Managed to get between 'em. Guy punched me in the gut. I puked. They all started laughin' and started patting her on the back. 'Balls of steel', Merle said to her. She thanked me for gettin' between them and asked how I was. Walked her and her friend back to her car. And I don't know if she was tipsy or what, but she asked ma name. Asked if we could have a new introduction 'nother day or somethin. You want to know what I was before all this? I was just drifting around with Merle... doing whatever he said we were gonna be doin' that day. I was nobody. Nothin'. Some redneck asshole and an even bigger asshole for a brother. Got better when I met her. (Y/N) made us better," Daryl's eyes flittered down to his ring this time, looking at the grime and dirt that accumulated and pulled it off to wipe it on his shirt.

"You miss him, don't you? I miss Maggie. I miss her bossing me around. I miss my big brother Shawn. He was so annoyin' and overprotective. And my dad. I thought- I hoped he'd just live the rest of his life in peace, you know? I thought Maggie and Glenn would have a baby. And he'd get to be a grandpa. And we'd have birthdays and holidays and summer picnics. And he'd get really old. And it'd happen, but it'd be quiet. It'd be okay. He'd be surrounded by people he loved. That's how unbelievably stupid I am," Tears had formed in Beth's eyes, but she laughed through them. But she couldn't shake that image of her Dad, the governor stood behind him.

"That's how it was supposed to be," He grumbled. Beth was naive, but she wasn't blind. She could tell he wasn't talking just about her dad. He was talking about the life he had with his wife, a life he could have had. The life he deserved to have. Subconsciously, she couldn't help but be slightly jealous that she never had something like that.

"I wish I could just... change," Beth responded after a pause, and Daryl's eyebrow raised, slightly confused.

"Ya did."

"Not enough. Not like you. It's like you were made for how things are now. Sounds like ya girl was too."

He didn't say anything, biting his cheek lightly as he slid his ring back on. It was his comfort, she was his comfort. Maybe she was still out there. Maybe.

Maybe she was dead in a ditch. </i>

It still felt like a dream. He was still sure that if he gave himself a hard pinch she'd disappear right from his grasp. Everyone had dispersed thanks to Aaron and Carol's shepherding, but Daryl didn't miss the way (Y/N) watched after Carl and Judith, like she was scared something would happen. She didn't let go of him, not for another few minutes, that felt like seconds to him, and he would never complain. It didn't feel real.

There would be questions later, enough to bombard them back into hiding. He didn't care. Nothing mattered. She was here.

Eventually, Daryl managed to clear his head enough to pull her into the house his family had now evacuated out of. It felt alien, holding her again. Seeing her. Actually seeing her, not imagining her in some drunk or fear-induced frenzy. They were huddled together, in the corner Daryl had taken the night before. He couldn't let go, not now. There was something different about her. She'd changed. The apocalypse did that to you, he supposed but, this was different. There was guilt like she was hiding something from him. She'd done something, and he wanted to find out what it was.

"How the hell'd ya get here?" He asked, voice low and a grin rose on her face, which made his eyebrows furrow in confusion "What?"

"Ain't nothing. Just didn't think I'd hear your voice again," (Y/N) responded, her grin widening when he took her hand and started playing with her ring. "I was with mom when it started. Started travelling down to Georgia to find you and Merle. Met some people along the way."

She suddenly went quiet, her smile falling, and Daryl knew that look. Seen it on everyone's faces after camp; saw it on Carol, Beth, Maggie and Hershel's faces after the barn, Glenn and Maggie after the governor, Beth's after the prison; Rick, Carl and Michonne's the night with the claimers; everyone's after Terminus; Sasha and Gabriel after Bob and Tyreese. His, Maggie's and Glenn's after Beth.

"What happened?" If anyone else had walked in, they'd probably have never believed it was his voice. He didn't believe it. Merle would be giving him hell for it. Her eyes darted to his, and her grip on his hand tightened.

"There were this married couple, Andrew and Oliver, and their kid, Anna. Real sweet, curious. Never wanted to leave me and the other leader Kai alone. Some twins, Danica and Ben. Danica and Andrew were hotheads, reminded me of Merle, just less bigotted," They shared a chuckle at that. Daryl didn't need to say anything to her for her to know her brother-in-law was gone. She'd seen it on his face when she mentioned him earlier. After all this time, she could still read him like a book. "Kai was my best friend. Felt like a sibling. They were military, stopped me and mom from going into the city. We were gonna keep looking for you but Anna got sick. Really sick. For three weeks, we went out looking for medicine and she'd go through it in days."

Hell, he'd almost forgot about the disease that spread through the prison. Nearly killed Glenn. Awful as it seemed, it didn't that important anymore. Pretty much everyone that was sick died to the governor anyway. Didn't matter. Not really

"When she didn't get better, her dad's asked me to put her down. I was going to do it in the evening, in case she passed, but I decided to wait until morning. Died in her sleep. Turned quickly. We lost Andrew and Danica," Daryl squeezed her hand but she didn't respond. Her eyes were unfocused, but he saw the sadness flickering in them. The shame and guilt. That's why she was watching Carl and Judith earlier. "We were in the woods for a while. Me, mom, Andrew, Kai and Ben, lived that old Dixon lifestyle," She teased, in a poor attempt to lighten the mood. But he saw past it. She was holding something back to stop him from worrying.

"Then what?" She just shook her head, and Daryl pulled her in, tucking her head under his chin again. Not yet. He'd wait as long as she needed. They didn't need words for him to understand. (Y/N) let out a small sigh of contentment and Daryl resisted a smile. He'd lost hope in finding her. Thought he'd never get to hold her like this again. And before he knew it, he was telling her everything. But when he got to Terminus, she froze and pulled back.

"You were at Terminus?" (Y/N)'s voice was laced with concern and confusion, and it took Daryl half a second to connect the dots. His eyebrows rose into his hairline, which made (Y/N) laugh slightly."I was there for three days. Fuckers tried to kill me but I put up a fight. That freak Gareth locked me in a room so I didn't 'scare the newcomers'. An explosion and some walker's guts got me out."

"Ya gotta be shittin' me, right?" Daryl laughed, genuinely laughed, and he swore he'd never seen so much elation on his girl's face. "Carol set off that explosion, got us out."

(Y/N) leant her forehead on his shoulder, smiling at the ridiculousness of the situation. The whole time, he thought she was so far away, or that she was gone, or dead, or bitten but she was right fucking there at Terminus. If he'd paid more attention, maybe he could've found her. Fucking idiot.  

"Hey, where ya goin'?" Daryl asked, catching (Y/N)'s arm as she started to climb out of the sleeping bag they'd been sharing. It'd taken a while for Daryl to convince the group to let her stay with them. They didn't trust her, and he couldn't blame them, but he wasn't going to be separated from <i>any</i> of his family. Neither her nor them. Eventually, Rick had nodded, despite Sasha and Abraham (mostly - Rosita and Carl hadn't exactly been happy about it either).

"Aiden and Nicholas want to take Glenn, Tara and Noah on a dry run, I gotta go with them to make sure they don't do something dumb," (Y/N) replied, pulling on her jumper but Daryl narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Careful, (L/N), that's ma family yer talkin' 'bout," He shot back, sharper than he wanted. However, she was taking a dig at his family when she barely knew shit about them. She just chuckled and rolled her eyes, coming closer to press a kiss on his forehead.

"Not your family, dummy. Nicolas and Aiden. They both hate me because I called them careless. Among other things. And they are. They don't know anything about life out there. If these walls hadn't come up when they had, those boys would have died long ago. Almost everyone here would have," She replied. He watched her carefully, giving her a look that she couldn't recognise. He was still getting used to this new version of her. Trying to get to know her again.  She wasn't that different, not really, but she was slightly colder towards others and seemed to have a shorter fuse where unbreakable patience used to be. Well, unbreakable unless you were Merle. Some undying rage never left her eyes.  She was still her old self, but she'd changed. It made him wonder what she'd been through. What she wouldn't tell him the day before.

"Why'd ya stay if this place ain't secure?" Daryl asked, pulling her slightly closer. Then he saw it. That look flashed across her face. It was gone almost as soon as it came, but he'd caught it. Guilt was ripping through her, despite how much she hid it. Why was she guilty? What was she hiding?

"Why'd you?" (Y/N) responded quickly, and even with this new version of her, he still knew her well enough to know she was changing the topic. And she did too, as evident from her heavy sigh. "I had a promise to keep."

There was more to it than that, Daryl could see it so clearly it was practically slapping him in the face. But he knew pushing wouldn't get them anywhere.

"People here are weak. Carol and the kid think it too. Hell, I do.  Glad yer goin' with 'em," He gave her a quick kiss, running his thumb over her ring. "Keep an eye on 'em for me."

"Of course," (Y/N) smiled back, and from the surprise on Deanna's face when she walked in to check on them, not that he'd cared enough to notice at first, it wasn't something that had happened often while she was here.

"And you keep yourself safe, ya hear?" Daryl demanded, and while it was firm, (Y/N) saw the glimmer of fear in his eye. Can't lose her again. The words went unspoken but she heard them. A hard squeeze of his hand and a kiss on the cheek, and she'd wandered out the door, Glenn, Tara and Noah trailing close behind.

Time seemed to drag out while they were gone. It'd been around an hour, and he knew it shouldn't be too much longer before they returned. It was only a dry run. He'd finally showered, if only for his girl's sake than anyone else's, and he couldn't stop pacing. Carol had tried to employ his help, but he shut her down. With no news on a job from Deanna, Daryl couldn't stop himself from getting lost in his thoughts and drowning in his worries. His girl had said that the boys were careless. What if that cost her? What if him asking her to protect his friend meant she did something stupid? What if she didn't come back? What if he lost her again? For good, this time?

His worries were cut in half when the creaking and scratching of the gate broke through the air and he immediately jogged from his place on the porch to the gates, seeing the group come back in. They all looked pissed, and none of them more than (Y/N). She was walking in front of Glenn almost protectively, and he just knew something had gone wrong.

"You three need new gigs, you're not ready for runs yet," Aiden snapped from behind, making the four turn on their heels. Daryl felt himself moving forward when Aiden got close to (Y/N) and started pointing "And I'm gonna talk to my mom about getting you a new job."

"Yeah, pretty sure you got that backwards," Glenn shot back and (Y/N) gave him a grateful look. They set off again but were pulled back by Aiden grabbing both her and Glenn's arms.

"Hey, we've got a way of doing things around here," Aiden tried, making a poor attempt of establishing his authority, which deflated when she scoffed.

"Yeah, ones you don't tell me about apparently," She grumbled. There it was. That short fuse. That undying rage. Daryl slowed to a stop as more people started to gather at the noise. She looked over to him, telling him with a glance that he might have to step in if it got too far.

"You tied up walkers," Glenn shot back, and that set Aiden off. Nicolas bounced between each foot awkwardly, like he didn't know what to do with himself.

"It killed our friend!"Aiden shouted "Look, I'm not having this conversation. You obey my orders out there."

"Not when they put our people in danger," (Y/N) stepped closer, almost chest to chest with Aiden, and Daryl smirked slightly. That was his girl.

"If that's the case, we're just as screwed as your last run crew," Glenn agreed, putting a hand on (Y/N)'s shoulder to get her to back off. They shared a look, and she reluctantly took a step back. Glenn was trying to keep it peaceful, but he wasn't Aiden get away with this shit. Neither was (Y/N), except Daryl wasn't so sure about the peaceful part. Aiden shifted at Glenn's words, and Nicolas narrowed his eyes. Daryl took a step closer, shooting the latter man a warning glare.

"Say that again," Aiden stated, lightly shoving Glenn's chest. He brushed off the warning words of Noah and Tara, and both Glenn and Daryl could see that (Y/N) was barely holding her rage back. Glenn squeezed her shoulder lightly, clearly seeing it too. She was waiting for the right moment, but she was going to break any second. "C'mon tough guy."

Glenn just stared back at him, raising his eyebrows ever so slightly, and the expression pissed Aiden off even more. (Y/N) had to bite back a laugh. "No one's impressed, man. Walk away."

Someone had clearly alerted Deanna to the situation because she came running out, and (Y/N) rolled her eyes slightly at the woman. It was pretty damn clear she didn't like her. However, her expression softened slightly, and some of her anger dissipated when she saw Enid join the newly formed crowd, with Carl not far behind her.

"Aiden, what's going on?" Deanna asked, running over. Daryl saw Rick slowly making his way over with Michonne, and they were both observing too. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut and it felt stifling.

"These two have got a problem with the way we do things. Why did you let these people in? Why didn't you kick her out?" Daryl's eyes furrowed, and his glare settled. This asshole was really trying to get them thrown out? After the shit he'd just heard?

"Because we actually know what we're doing out there," Glenn immediately answered and he barely had time to dodge as Aiden swung for him, while Deanna shouted his name. However, (Y/N) immediately shot into action. The fury she'd been suppressing exploded out all at once, and she didn't hesitate to land a punch ride to Aiden's nose. She'd hit him with enough force to cause his nose to bleed, and Daryl felt a twisted sense of pride in his stomach.

"(Y/N)!" Enid yelled, and (Y/N) looked over to her in panic, scared someone had lunged for her. But while she was distracted, Nicolas had managed to get a hit in on her side, making her fall backwards slightly. Her eyes darkened and she went to attack him, but two arms latched around her waist and yanked her away from the fight. At some point, Aaron had come running towards the commotion and had snuck up behind her. He was trying to talk to her, to calm her down but she only saw red.

However, while the people had been distracted with (Y/N), apparently well-acquainted with her outbursts, no one had thought to stop Daryl. The second, Aiden lunged for Glenn, he was running at them, anger boiling inside of him, but then Nicolas dared to lay a hand on his girl and he felt like that day in the woods with Beth. When he couldn't stop his anger. It just flowed through him, and soon Nicolas had been pinned to the floor with Daryl's arm to his neck. Rick sprinted to them, shouting at him, but Daryl had tuned him out, eyes focusing on the son of a bitch below him. He felt arms yanking him away and he growled something (he couldn't even remember what he was so damn pissed) to, who he assumed was, Rick. Aiden stood up and went to walk towards (Y/N), which made her struggle slightly in Aaron's hold, until Michonne stepped in front, pushing him back.

"Back the fuck up, asshole," (Y/n) shouted, pulling in Aaron's arms, and Michonne narrowed her eyes at Aiden.

"You want to end up on your ass again?"She warned, staring him down until he backed up. After another minute, Rick finally made Daryl let up and Rick pushed him away slightly just for good measure. He was practically vibrating with anger, but he backed away, picking up his crossbow before walking to his girl. Aaron let her go hesitantly, and Daryl wrapped an arm around her waist, both to ground himself and to prevent her from going anywhere. He could feel the heat radiating over, and how pissed off she still was as she and Aiden glared at each other. Deanna stared at her for a minute, a look filled with scorn that nearly set Daryl off again. Aiden had taken the shot first, she couldn't blame his girl for shit.

"I want everyone to hear me, okay? Rick and his people are part of this community now and always as equals. Understood?"She shot a pointed look to her son, who looked away in shame as he wiped his nose, getting blood on the back of his hand. Daryl hid a smirk, despite the anger still stirring in his stomach. "Everyone turn in your weapons. Then you two come talk to me."

Deanna pulled Rick and Michonne to one side, and the pair watched for a second, as Glenn walked off with Maggie. Then, Daryl turned his girl to look at him, inspecting every inch of her to make sure she wasn't badly injured.

"Y'alrigh'?" Daryl questioned softly, placing one hand on her cheeks, which she leant into affectionately. It made his stomach do flips, and he was sure he was blushing but if he was, she didn't say anything. Made him feel like a damn teenager again. She placed her hand over his, touching his ring with a small reassuring smile.

"I'm all good, Dixon. Might have a bruise on my ribs, but I'll live," She replied and Daryl turned to look at Nicolas with a dark look. They were so caught up in themselves that they didn't notice Aaron watching them with a curious look. He was smiling softly. He hadn't been able to get much out of his friend when talking about her husband. She'd let a little slip when she, him and Eric got drunk during her first week, but she'd never told them his name, or anything deep. If she had, maybe he would've been able to reunite them sooner.

Everyone dispersed, with Aiden and Nicolas following Deanna back to her house. (Y/N) watched after them, glaring holes into the back of their heads.

"(Y/N, I know you're pissed off, but you have to quit the fighting. Deanna's going to kick you out if you aren't careful," Aaron warned, folding his arms over his chest, and Daryl's head snapped over furiously. However, (Y/N) turned to him with a face that told him she'd heard this a million times before.

"Fucker went for Glenn first. She just defended him," Daryl murmured and Aaron let out a deep sigh. Guess it wasn't just (Y/N) he had to watch out for now.

The next day, Daryl and (Y/N) had been moved into their own house, and while she was hesitant to leave Eric and Aaron, neither she nor Daryl could deny how nice it was to have their own privacy. It almost felt like life before the apocalypse. Well, besides the fact that this house was worth more than they ever could have afforded before the world went to shit. And they were missing a certain loud-mouthed idiot. Enid also technically lived there, but she was always in and out. One thing both he and his girl knew, was that he was suffocating in here. He hated not being out there. So when she suggested he go hunting, he was out of the door quicker than she could blink. He felt guilty leaving her behind, but she could manage her own, and she had her own jobs to do. Besides, Enid could keep her company. She'd be fine.

The bushes rustling made his crossbow shoot up. Daryl narrowed his eyes, trying to pick out if it was a person, walker or animal, but he quickly realised it was a human and his guard went up tenfold.

"Come out! Now!"He snarled, placing his finger on the trigger as the person began to emerge. Aaron. Son a bitch scared the shit out of him. Not that he'd admit it. He lowered his crossbow with a huff upon seeing the recruiters alarmed face. "Ain't ya supposed to be in Alexandria with Eric?"

"(Y/N)'s watching over him. You can tell the difference between walkers and humans by sound?" Daryl just grunted in response and Aaron studied him, as he checked the string of the crossbow. He wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be. He could see it in the way he acted with (Y/N) alone, and that wasn't even beginning on the rest of his family "Can you tell the difference between a good guy and a bad guy? Rick doesn't seem to be an expert at that."

"There ain't much of a difference no more," Daryl snapped back. What was with this guy? Didn't he know when to stop prying? Wasn't none of his business. Aaron didn't miss the way he squinted at him, or how his shoulders squared defensively.

"That how you feel about your people? About (Y/N)?" Aaron questioned. Daryl tensed slightly before continuing forward into the woods.

"Why ya following me?" Daryl snapped. If it had been anyone else, he probably would've been shouting by now. But Aaron was (Y/N)'s friend. He could talk about her like that. He meant no ill will. Others don't get the right. They didn't know her. They just expected the worst because he was some redneck. Expected her to be the same.

She was so much more.

"You ride horses?"Aaron asked, trying to lighten the situation. He'd really hoped he could save that horse. The kids had been asking him for weeks. At least he wasn't suffering anymore.

"I ride bikes," Daryl responded shortly. Aaron was kind, and he could see how his girl was friends with him. Why she trusted him. They'd taken care of her. Seen that pretty clearly yesterday with Aiden and Nicolas and stopping her from killing them. But everything felt too much still. He wasn't used to being somewhere like this. Even before everything. Even with his girl starting to bring him to the right path. Everything was just overwhelming. He knew Aaron was trying to help, to get to know him,  but whether that was out of kindness or to stay on the good side of his girl, he still hadn't figured it out.

"I take it you don't mean 10-speeds," When Daryl didn't say anything, Aaron let out a small sigh. "I know you're feeling like an outsider. (Y/N) does too, even if she tries to deny it. It's not your fault, you know. Eric and I, we're still looked at as outsiders in a lot of ways. We've heard our fair share of well-meaning, but hilariously offensive things from some otherwise really nice men and women. And you should hear how they talk about (Y/N) sometimes. People are people. The more afraid they get, the more stupid they get. Fear shrinks the brain. They're scared of you and me for different reasons. They're less scared of me because they know me. It's less and less every day. So let them get to know you. You should go to Deanna's party tonight."

By that point, they'd both stopped. Daryl looked back at Aaron with disbelieving eyes. Like hell was he going to some dumb as shit party. People'd stare, whisper, ask questions. They did little else when he was around, normally.

" I got nothing to prove. I met a lot of bad people out here doing a lot of bad shit. They weren't afraid of nothin'," His eyes flashed back to Terminus. Glenn's terrified eyes. The rage in Rick's eyes. Carl's trembling in the storage container. His girl, who'd been so damn close that if he'd stopped for a second, he would have found her.

"Yeah, they were," Aaron replied, smiling at him slightly before walking past him.

"Yer goin'?" Daryl raised his eyebrows, and (Y/N) turned to smile at him. She didn't look herself. Actually no, she looked exactly like herself. But the old her. This wasn't the new, hardened, mildly terrifying new (Y/N). It felt alien. Almost wrong. But hell if she didn't look good, even if she was dressed up for a dumb ass party.

"I want to get to know your family. Besides, I need to prove a point to Deanna and her shithead sons. You sure you won't come?" She trailed over to him and admired him in the last rays of the sunset. He didn't want her to go. Didn't want her near Aiden, Nicolas or Deanna's other son, who he had the pleasure of not yet meeting. He'd only just gotten her back, and everyone wanted a piece of her. It was starting to piss him off.

Daryl just shook his head, moving some stray pieces of hair out of his eyes at the same time. "Naw. Maybe later."

(Y/N) nodded, before taking his hand, using the other to reach up and play with the ends of his hair. He squeezed her hand, a silent demand of her to stay.

"Never thought I'd see you with long hair, Dixon," She said absentmindedly and he snorted quietly. Sometimes it slipped his mind that the last time she'd seen him, he'd looked almost completely different.

"Watch yourself, (L/N)," He shot back, but there was no venom. Just a tender look in his eyes that was reserved for only her. She let out a quiet laugh and brought their joint hands up to kiss the back of his hand before letting go. Merle was right, the asshole. She did make him soft.

He watched the party from a distance, glancing through the window. Trying to get a look, trying to find the courage to go in. His girl or not, the idea of going in there made his skin crawl. Daryl wasn't a people person, it was pretty damn clear. He wished she'd stayed at home with him, but it did make his heart ache slightly knowing she was only going to try and connect with his family. She didn't get pissy about the fact he called them family, didn't judge, didn't expect them to trust her just because they were married. Just tried to connect with them

He let out a heavy sigh, cursing under his breath and turned around, beginning to head back home. Hell, he'd started calling it home now. Maybe it was being with her again, made him feel at home. Maybe he was getting used to this place. Not damn likely. As he was walking past Aaron and Eric's house, (Y/N)'s old home, the light on the porch switched on, and Aaron walked outside

"Daryl. Hey," Aaron greeted, and Daryl resisted a sigh. Sure, he was nice but it was becoming clearer and clearer that this was about him trying to get to know him for (Y/N). But thinking about it, that was exactly what his girl was doing with his family. Goddamn it.

"Thought you were going to that party over there," Daryl responded, leaning against the fence.

"Oh, I was never going to go 'cause of Eric's ankle, thank God," Aaron smiled, looking relieved and Daryl furrowed his eyebrows

"Why the hell did you tell me to go, then?"He snapped, feeling a little guilty by the outburst until he saw the amused (but oddly proud?) look the other man was giving him.

"I said try. You did. It's a thought that counts thing," How long had this guy spent with (Y/N)? Starting to sound just like her.

"All right," Daryl mumbled, pushing off from the fence to walk away until Aaron's voice stopped him again.

"Hey, come in. Have some dinner. Come on, man. It's some pretty serious spaghetti," Aaron offered. Daryl turned to face him, sure he'd see a teasing look on his face. Expecting it to be a joke. But there was a hopeful look on Aaron's face along with a small grin. Yeah, he was starting to see why (Y/N) liked him so much. He hesitated, biting his lip nervously for a second, before walking back to the house. Aaron's grin widened, but Daryl pretended like he hadn't seen anything.

Apart from a greeting from Eric, the three men mostly sat in silence, digging into the spaghetti. Daryl knew he should probably be more aware of how he was eating, he was slurping and he probably looked like a pig (if (Y/N) was there she'd be giving him hell for it), but he'd stopped caring. And while Aaron and Eric shared an occasional muffled laugh, they didn't seem too bothered. Daryl couldn't help but notice the empty two settings on the remaining chairs, and apparently, Eric had followed his gaze.

"We're still getting used to (Y/N) being gone. Enid too. She didn't live with us, but she stayed here a lot because of (Y/N). Guess we still haven't gotten out of the habit of setting their seats," Eric joked lightly, and Daryl made a grunt of acknowledgement.

"Mmm, when you're out there, if you happen to be in a store or something, Mrs Neudermyer is really looking for a pasta maker. And we're all really trying to get her to shut up about it. I mean, we have crates of dried pasta in here, but she wants to make her own or something," Eric seemed oblivious to the pointed looks Aaron was giving him, and the confused one that Daryl seemed to have etched onto his face. Eric was more bubbly than Aaron, more talkative, but still sweet. He didn't expect responses from Daryl, happy to just talk away. Maybe (Y/N)'s friends weren't too bad " I really think she just wants something to talk about, so... if you see one out on your travels, it would go a long way to..."

Finally, Eric looked over to his husband, seeing him shaking his head and his words died on his tongue. Looking awkwardly between Daryl and Aaron before settling on his pasta, a small apologetic smile on his face

"I thought it was done. You didn't ask him already?" As if she'd heard Eric's silent plea to be rescued from the mild embarrassment of the situation, the sound of the door opening made Aaron and Daryl shoot up until they heard (Y/N)'s voice following.

"Aaron? Eric? You home?" She called, sounding tired, and Aaron let out a relieved sigh, before calling her into their dining room. Daryl couldn't help but smile as she walked in. It still felt like she wasn't real. Like she'd disappear any day and he'd wake up in that barn, or on the road, starving and dehydrated. She grinned back at him, but she didn't miss the teasing wink Eric gave her. "Hey, Dixon. What're you doing here?"

"We invited him for the infamous killer spaghetti," Eric grinned at her, nudging her hip with his shoulder as she walked to stand between his seat and Daryl. Instinctively, Daryl took her hand, and she bit back a child-like grin. Aaron gave her a look, one he couldn't recognise but she clearly did as she glared back at him playfully.

"You told him yet?" She asked, turning slightly to look at Aaron properly, nodding her head towards Daryl slightly. Daryl's confusion only furthered. Why did everyone seem to know what was going on except him? Hell, he was willing to bet if Enid was here too then she'd probably know.

"Was just about to, but <i>someone</i> nearly let the cat out of the bag," Eric looked away guiltily, but it was obvious he was forcing back a chuckle.

"Tell me what?" Daryl finally spoke up, and he didn't miss the way her hand tightened around his. Her grin turned slightly mischievous as Aaron started leading them towards their garage. Aaron opened the door and (Y/N) squeezed Daryl's hand again (and if she saw his cheeks starting to go pink, she didn't say anything) while her friend flicked the light on.

The garage was stuffed with spare parts and something that looked suspiciously like a motorbike beneath a piece of huge sheet. (Y/N) let go of his hand, opting instead to lean in the doorway, smiling softly at the excitement that flickered in her husband's eyes, even if his face stayed stoic. It'd been so damn long since he'd seen something like this, and while it reminded him a little too much of Merle's biker buddies, this also felt like home. He felt like a kid in a candy store. Aaron and (Y/N) shared a knowing look behind Daryl's back

"When I got the place, there was that frame and some parts and equipment. Whoever lived here built them," Aaron explained, as Daryl started picking up pieces, admiring them and putting them down again.

"It's a lot of parts for one bike," Daryl stated, trying to hide how happy he was, and he could practically hear (Y/N) rolling her eyes

"Whenever I came across any parts out there, I brought them back. I didn't know what I'd need. (Y/N) tried to figure it out, but it wasn't her area of expertise," There was a teasing tone in his voice at the last sentence and Daryl heard his girl mumble something along the lines of 'shut up. "I always thought I'd learn how to do it, but I get the feeling you already know what to do with it. And the thing is, you're going to need a bike."

"Why?"Daryl pulled back the sheet and saw the skeleton of a bike, with a box of tools next to it.

"I told Deanna not to give you a job because I think I have one for you. I'd like you to be Alexandria's other recruiter. I don't want Eric risking his life anymore," Aaron replied. Daryl understood that, probably better than most people in this community. (Y/N) let out a hum of agreement, and Daryl looked over as she turned to glance back into the house. She was protective of her loved ones. Always had been, and he was really starting to realise just how much Aaron and Eric meant to her.

"You want me risking mine, right?"Daryl questioned, sounding sharper than he wanted, but Aaron could tell he meant no harm by it.

"Yeah, because you know what you're doing. You're good out there. But you don't belong out there. I know it's hard getting used to people getting used to you. And I understand right now you need to be out there sometimes. So do I. But the main reason why I want you to help me recruit is because you do know the difference between a good person and a bad person, "Hell, he really had spent too much time with his girl. Daryl bit his lip in thought, but he already knew his mind was made up. Being in here all the time was killing him. Even with his girl here, he knew he couldn't stay here for long without getting antsy.

"I got nothing else to do. Thanks. I'll get you some rabbits," Aaron let out a loud laugh at that, patting Daryl's shoulder as he stepped past him, back to his girl in the doorway. She was smiling, asking him silently how he was feeling. He just gave her a tiny smile, and clearly, that was enough for her, as she wrapped her arm around his side.

Daryl couldn't help but notice how close (Y/N) had suddenly gotten with Glenn, Rick, Tara and Maggie. He noticed the way the rest of his family seemed a little more at ease with her, not exactly trusting her yet, but clearly getting on that track. Carl still wasn't sure about her, but Daryl didn't miss how he'd come and actually started conversations with her a few times, instead of avoiding her completely. Part of him was suspicious that it had something to do with his obvious crush on Enid. And while it made his heart warm that she was starting to become integrated with his family, there was always someone whisking her away now. He just wanted to spend some damn time with his wife, but he had to go out with Aaron, and she was going on another run.

And every damn thing that could have gone wrong absolutely did. It'd been a god damn trap, and now he was trapped in a car, surrounded by fuck knows how many walkers with his wife best friend. And the walkers just kept coming, pouring out of the trucks, banging on the window. How fucking long until that glass shattered and they were made into walker meat? But despite the hell going on around him, he couldn't stop a chuckle escaping his lips. It was fucking ironic. Aaron gave him a bewildered look.

"I came out here to not feel all closed up back there. Even now, this feels more like me than back in them houses. That's pretty messed up, huh?" Daryl explained, looking over at Aaron, who still had that look, but had a small, almost sad, smile on his lips.

"You were trying," Aaron said, and Daryl shook his head lightly. Wasn't exactly a choice. There were the kids, his friends, his family. Then (Y/N) got added into the mix, and that was it.

"I had to," He shot back, eyes watching the walkers that were gnashing their teeth outside the window.

"No, you didn't. Listen, I saw you with your group out there on the road. Then you went off on your own to the barn. Storm hit and you lead your people to safety. That was it. I knew I had to bring you people back," Aaron had this gentle look, and he went quiet, thinking for a second. When he spoke again his voice was thick "You were right. We should have kept looking for that guy in the poncho. I shouldn't have given up. You didn't."

Daryl went silent, pulling a cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it. He'd given up. On his girl. Given up on her, lost hope started thinking she was dead. And look at what happened.

"I didn't, because I gave up before," It didn't take a genius to figure out what, or rather who he was talking about "Hadn't seen her in two years. Thought she was dead. Found 'er. Ain't givin' up this time. I'll go. I'll lead 'em out. You make a break for the fence."

God, she was going to kill him for this.

Aaron's head snapped over, the beginning of tears in his eyes quickly disappearing as he processed Daryl's words. "No, no, no. This was my fault."

"Wasn't a question. And this ain't yer decision. It ain't nobody's fault. Just let me finish my smoke first. Promise you'll look after ma girl, 'right?" Daryl brought the cigarette back to his lips, taking a draw. He ignored Aaron' stare, his leg bouncing lightly. This'd destroy her. But, she had people to look after. And people would look after her for him. His family would be there, Aaron, Eric, Enid. She'd forget about him after a while.

"No," Aaron said sternly, and Daryl was almost taken back by the tone. Never heard him talk like that. "You don't draw them away. We fight. We go for the fence. We do it together, alright? Whether we make it or not. We do it together. We have to."

Daryl fell back into that silence, biting his lip in thought. (Y/N) would probably never forgive him if he let Aaron die. But she'd never forgive Aaron if he did. Fuck. Shit.

"Alright. You ready?" Daryl took one last drag before extinguishing the cigarette and picking up his knife instead. Hell, he couldn't believe he was agreeing to this. Sorry (L/N) "We'll go on three. One, two-"

But three never came as one of the walkers outside's guts spilt on Aaron's window, making them both freeze and exchange a puzzled look. There was no gunshot. The dead didn't kill their own. His door was suddenly yanked open, making Aaron scuttle back and lean on Daryl slightly, before he saw a guy standing there, holding a badass staff. He climbed out, followed immediately by Daryl. Everything was a blur of guts, blood and aching muscles until they got back to the gate and closed it. He was pretty sure he was just running on adrenaline at this point

"Hey, Daryl?" Aaron said breathlessly and Daryl looked over to see him smiling "Take care of her your damn self."

They got back just in time to see all hell had broken loose. The sound of shouting and screaming greeted them as Spencer let them through the gate, and Aaron had gone sprinting ahead, followed soon by Daryl and Morgan. Daryl's heart was pounding, worried (Y/N) was in the middle of it. Shit, shit, shit, shit. (Y/N) and Abraham were holding Pete down as he squirmed and glared up at them. And there on the floor, Deanna was crying, begging while she pressed against the slice on Reg's neck. Alexandrian's watched in terror, and horror as he choked on his own blood, and Daryl didn't miss the look in (Y/N)'s eyes, beneath all the fear and rage. A look he knew too well. She was reliving something. He only wished he knew what. It was then Daryl noticed Michonne's bloody katana on the floor, where Michonne herself looked at it with disgust. Rick was stood beside Abraham and (Y/N), watching Deanna with pity, but waiting for her instruction as Reg ultimately stopped moving. The air was silent, still, and he could see Aaron bouncing slightly from foot to foot, desperate to check up on his husband as Morgan watched with disdain.

One bullet, and it was done, blood splattered on (Y/N) and Abraham's faces. But she didn't even flinch. Just stared blankly. When they got back to their house, Enid, who'd allegedly been told to stay in the house but snuck out (in Enid like fashion) was wrapped under (Y/N)'s arm. She looked scared still, and Daryl had tried to comfort her, even if it hadn't been much, until (Y/N) had been relieved from the situation and took over. She was like a mini carbon copy of his girl, with the addition of teen angst, but she was easy to talk to (even when she was traumatised). His girl still had that blank look, had it since Rick pulled that trigger, and somehow that scared him more. She ushered Enid to her room, and Daryl knew she would either leave within a few minutes, or she wouldn't move until morning. But Enid didn't protest, just gave (Y/N) a quick hug and rushed upstairs.

His girl was still silent, as they reached their room, as they started changing into their pyjamas, as she went off to brush her teeth and wash the blood off her face, as they climbed into bed. It wasn't until Daryl reached out to touch her and she flinched back, did he attempt to break the silence.

"(Y/N)," He mumbled, and she raised her eyebrows to show she was listening but didn't meet his eyes. His stomach was in a knot, worry, nerves and interest as he watched her. "Hey, look at me."

It took her a minute, but reluctantly, she dragged her eyes up to meet his and he saw it. Guilt, anxiety and trauma all wrapped in one.

"Talk to me," Was all he said, and that was all it took. It was spilling out of her before she could stop it, and her hand found him desperately.

"After Anna, Ben, Andrew, Kai, Mom and I were chased out. Moved camp every day. Didn't know where we were going, just kept moving. One night, we were distracted. Ben was talking about smoke or something, and Kai started sayin' how we should go towards Washington. Said it was one of the few places that might have civilisation. We let out guard down," (Y/N) hesitated again, and Daryl squeezed her hand tightly, prompting her to continue. Every word she spoke, the sadder her eyes grew. The guilt kept building and building, and Daryl felt his own pit of dread in his stomach. She was in pain and there was nothing he could do about it. "Some assholes come out of the woods, demand our supplies. I said no and they... they shot Kai. Then Ben and Andrew. Started going through our stuff, held me back as they murdered my family. Then they grabbed mom and-"

Daryl didn't hesitate in pulling her in when her voice hitched and she stopped again. He held her so tight, he was almost certain it was hurting, but she didn't voice any complaints. She just curled into him before continuing.

"Those bastards slit her throat. I had to put her down when she turned. Left me in the middle of the woods. When Reg... I just saw mom. It was like I was back there, reliving again and again on repeat. And I can't help but think that if I'd stepped forward, maybe Reg would be alive," She whispered, fingers clutching onto the sleep shirt he wore. He shook his head, placing a kiss on her hair.

"And you'd be dead. Ain't yer fault. None of it. Not yer ma and yer family. Not Reg. Weren't nothin' you coulda done. Ya cain't blame yerself for it," Daryl said, and while his tone was gentle, the words were firm but they seemed to do nothing to ease her, she just held on tighter. "I know that ain't everythin'. What happened?"

"We lost Noah. He was right there. We had him, and then he was just gone. Glenn and I, we held onto him so hard, but the walkers they- they got him. Pushed him against the glass. We had to watch-" It was then Daryl felt her pull back and she adjusted so her arms were wrapped around him, tucked under his chin again when he pulled her close.

"I'm sorry," He didn't know what else to say. Noah was gone. That kid was something else, annoying sometimes, sure, but he brought this hopeful light to the group, even when they were damn near dying on the road. He found his brain starting to ache and a weird feeling in his chest. Daryl was well acquainted with loss, everyone was now, but it never got any easier. Not when the losses kept coming, and to the people who deserved them the least. He couldn't imagine how terrifying it must have been to watch. What it was like for her. He didn't want to. The thought alone was enough to give him nightmares. So he just held her tightly, even as he felt a wet patch seeping through his sleep shirt. Even as she shook. Even as she drifted off, exhausted and hurting, and he laid awake for hours after. He couldn't make it okay, even if he wanted to. And hell he really did. He couldn't bring Noah back, couldn't wipe the memory from her or Glenn's mind.

The only thing he could do was be there for her, comfort her, help her out of that place whenever she went there.  However, the only thing he could do, right at that moment, was hold her and not let go.

TAGS: OPEN

Tags (for this series): @graniairish @fuseburner @gloomystorm @bxxbxy @browneyes528 @hoemadegrace @reichelhache​

[zhaozaipalooza]

Your Weekly Insight into SA Culture Horror! - Chandramukhi

A breakdown of a cultural icon, and this 🤏🏾 close to a love letter to @crookedmouth-mountainbones, mod for the event and enthusiast of both Zhayu and horror. (There’s been… almost seventeen Chandramukhi films? WHAT?)

First things first, we’ll knock the mythology out of the way. Last week we looked at the ocean, otherwise a Hinduistic dive into La, your beloved Koizilla. I snuck in a subtle hint that Tui was next… Chandra, meaning “bright, shining, glittering”, is the moon god. Yes, he’s gay for Agni (no, please, from what I’ve read he’s pretty straight 😭).

Two stories of interest when it comes to this ladies’ man. He fell in love, illegitimately, with the star goddess Tara, ending in a declaration of war: gods fighting on Tara’s husband’s side, and asuras fighting on Chandra’s side. Oof. The guy went on to have many other consorts, representing the 27 closest constellations to the moon (aww). He was devoted to Rohini the most, and when the rest of his 26 wives got cranky enough to snap, dude got cursed.

^ Rohini, for one, is the personified star Aldebaran, brightest in the Taurus constellation. Her designation is therefore Alpha Tauri.

Another fun story (further highlighting this dude’s terrible luck): the Hindu tale behind the moon phases! Ganesha, the absolute icon of an elephant god, was returning from a hearty feast, certainly full after gorging on his favorite sweets, modaks (google for mouth-watering image results). When a snake slithered onto his path, the animal he was riding on spooked and turned tail, and Ganesha fell hard on his stomach… and all that sweetness came right back up.

Chandra, witnessing this, busted a gut, causing Ganesha to break off one of his tusks in fury and chuck it at the moon’s face. Then he cursed him (again) to never be whole… the reasons for waxing and waning, and the large crater on the moon, visible even from earth.

Okay, so where the heck were we? Horror? 😂

Well, somewhat relevant! Chandramukhi combined comedy with thriller-horror elements and racked up half a billion rupees in the box office, going on to win about eleven awards from different film-honoring associations. Two actors were awarded the Kalaimanami, the highest honor a Tamil Nadu citizen can receive, and it was the first Tamil film to be dubbed in German as “The Ghost Hunters”... okay, okay, point made.

Chandramukhi, if you’ve already guessed part of the name, means “moon-faced” or “as beautiful as the moon”. The film itself was a HUGE hit. I remember being a kid and going cold at the sight and sound of her: rattling anklets and bugged-out eyes, an unhinged, murderous voice… The movie has everything: haunted mansion, twisted-up love affairs, a mysterious and harrowing origin story for a spirit out for vengeance, things unexpectedly breaking and catching fire, poisoned coffee, a pushed fish tank, strange singing in the night… exorcisms! And split personality disorder! (Though, like James McAvoy’s performance in Split, a poor representation of the actual condition.)

The famous “Raa, Raa” track came out of the film - meaning “Come, Come” - and so did the “Lakka lakka…” sound Chandramukhi makes, goading her prey to her (popular among children! I might recall schoolmates chasing me around with this… I hated it 😂). The line uttered by Prahbu to the protagonist, translated to “What atrocity is this, Saravanan?” is used sometimes to the effect of irony and surprise. We can meme, too! With the best of ‘em!

Now, Chandramukhi’s actual story is a bit sad.

A tear-jerker of an explanation here. A hundred and fifty years ago, the woman as beautiful as the moon was a dancer in the city of Vizianagaram. This city was visited by the king Vettaiyan, who was immediately bewitched by her, and brought her to his palace by force… where she lived the rest of her life under his ownership. She provided royal entertainment, yet refused to reciprocate his advances, already in love with a dancer named Gunasekaran. When the king discovered she was meeting her lover in secret, he had Gunaeskaran beheaded and Chandramukhi burned alive in front of his court. Her spirit became bent on vengeance in the afterlife, and after Vettaiyan’s many priests and sorcerers were finally able to tame her, was locked in a corner of the palace and guarded by a king cobra.

Ganga, the character in the film who transforms into the newly-possessed (-ive?) Chandramukhi, exhibits “split personality disorder”, in that her actions as a crazed murderess are distinct from a loving and oblivious young woman. The iconic “tie bell anklets around her feet to hear if she sleepwalks, confirming Ganga and Chandramukhi are one and the same” scene is branded in my memory. Spooky!

Shine bright! Catch you next time ;p

[heliosthegriffin]

The Tarasque

On the night before the finals of the Vytal Festival, we find Jaune Arc. He leaned over the railing of the roof where he trained with Pyrrha, they hadn’t trained tonight, she needed to be in top shape for tomorrow.

Jaune didn’t though, and Jaune had come up to think dressed in his baby blue onesie. Smoking a cigarette in hand and breathing out the smoke into the clear night sky.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, letting the warm smoke fill his longs, holding it till it lost it’s warmth and expelled it. He spoke out into the night sky, “I’m really going to miss this place again, aren’t I?” There was no one to hear him question.

In his unoccupied hand was his scroll, a message ready to be sent to a group chat. Jaune looked at the scroll his expression mixed, his finger hovering over the send button. One press would be what it takes to summon his friends, they’d deserve an explanation at the very least before he left. He still hesitated before pressing the button, then he signed. “It’s never going to be any easier, is it?” Silence was his answer.

Several minutes passed before Pyrrha showed up, her normal, fake, smile still up, something was bothering the girl. He knew what Orville the poor child to due, and it only added to the list of grievance he had with the man.

“Jaune? Why are you calling everybody?” Pyrrha asked, her face full of worry. 

Her mind obviously wondering he could no longer take the guilt anymore, he’d nip that in the bud now.

“I’ll tell you when the rest get here. It’s more than what you think it is.”

The tone of his voice got her attention, but she nodded.

She had yet to notice the cigarette in his hand.

The rest came in the pair of Ren and Nora, and then the Team RWBY who came out in a dogpile on the roof. He snickered, he would indeed miss their antics.

The seven of them formed a semi-circle around him seeming to wonder what Jaune had to say. Jaune said nothing for a long second, taking one last long drag of the cigarette before exhaling.

That got Weiss’s attention, “Since when did you start such a repugnant habit, Arc?“ She asked with disgust.

Nora before Jaune could answer, “Oh, oh, oh, can you blow smoke rings Jauney, and hey wait, when you start smoking? I never smelled any  on you before?”

That got a small murmur going through the group of teens, bring a smile to his face.

Yang broke the silence, “So, what’s up VB? Come to have us look at you model your onesie?” She said with a snicker.

A sad looking smile came to Jaune’s face, he let the bud drop to the roof where he ground it under his slippers.

“I’m leaving Beacon, tonight.”

Any words that were about to come out froze in the seven teens mouths, not one had been expecting him to say that.

A series of ‘Whats?!” ‘Why’ ‘Are you for real?’ and so on and so forth, it all blended together to white noise.

It hurt him see his friends look so pained and shocked, but he needed to do what he needed to do. They were weights.

He clapped his hands, infusing his hands and arms to strength them, and then further empowered the shockwave as it left the hands causing a explosion of noise.

They all jumped up in shock, but Ren’s eyes narrowed at him, clearly noticing the aura trick he did.

He smiled softly at him, then at all of them. “I just want to say, thank you, thank you all, you’ve made the last hellish nine months in this place actually pleasant.”

Blakes eyes narrowed at his choice of words.

“I have had more fun here in my time with you seven, than I have had in the last couple centuries.”

NPR and RWBY’s eyes shot open, and before their eyes Jaune disappeared.

“I suppose you’re all curious what that means, but, I don’t have time to explain it all to you, I’m on a schedule you see, and you’re better off not knowing too. You seven have too bright future together, to change the world, to be dragged down into a shadowy conflict. Focus on your life and goals, not the mysterys in the dark. It’s been a pleasure, Ruby, Weiss, Yang, Blake, Pyrrha, Nora, and Ren.”

Crocea Mors in hand, Jaune grabbed it by the sheath and handle pulling it with speed that not even the eyes of hunters in training could follow hitting Ruby in the back of the head before her aura went up.

Ruby hit the floor with a nary a sound, looking for the world like she just fainted.

Weiss and Yang stood to either side of Ruby, with Blake at the end of the semi circle next to Yang. Ren stood to Weiss’s side, Nora to Ren’s side, and Pyrrha at the other end of the circle.

Crocea Mors sheath didn’t stop moving after Ruby went down, Jaune turned the strike so the flat of the blade hit Weiss’s temple, eyes went wide and then rolled up into her skull, her aura failing to come up at speed to block the strike.

In all under a second Jaune had incapacitated Ruby and Weiss, in the next ten second the other fives fell to the ground knocked out, not a scratch on the boy, and in the next second Jaune let his expression fall, and suddenly Jaune didn’t look so young and weak anymore, his face going from soft to sharp looking, still young but closer to his mid-twenties than his late teens, but his eye’s held a weight and age to them that could not be measured. It was like looking at the difference between a puppy and a alpha beowolf.

Jaune looked tiredly at his former friends, and took out his scroll and hit another message to each of his former friends, a video personalized for each one, on how to improve their fighting style, semblance, and training, along with a personalized apology.

Then Jaune hit a app on his scroll, then any trace of Jaune Arc ever existing on paper was deleted, being replaced by John Ark who tragically died in a bullhead flight tonight.

The scroll was then broken like cheap plastic and tossed away. Jaune brought up a burner scroll, and called. “I’m ready, are the pieces in place?”

Ozpin’s voice could be heard on the other end. “Yes. Are you in position?”

“No, but I will be within five minutes, tell them to be ready sooner, if all goes as planned the infiltrators will be captured and brought to the vault in less than a half hour, if not, be ready to send them in to capture or kill them.”

“Roger, message sent, I will be waiting below.”

In a blur of speed the onesie was gone revealing briefly too things, a body that was covered in scars of all kinds, burns, pock marks, slashes, bruises, acid burns, a catalogue of wounds that if saw on a normal man would cause a doctor to question how they were alive.

The second was on Jaune’s back, a large Tattoo, one of a fearsome monster that stared off of Jaunes back.

In another Blur of speed Jaune was dressed in dark blues, and blacks, Crocea Mors at his side.

“Tonight the Tarasque hunts again.”

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Jaune stood outside of the dark hall way following the aura signature to a visiting students dorm, he could feel the Fall Maiden’s power inside. He was right on the money that it was the transfer student. She was far too old to be playing pretend... Or not old enough.

He sensed the Ace Ops patrols the outside and roof, Goodwitch down the hall, The Branwan skin-changed and waiting outside the window.

Jaune focused on the aura signatures in the room, four, all sleeping.

He took out a key and opened the door, and slipped in.

They never even noticed him stalking up to the fall maiden, and grabbing her by the throat, to her credit her eyes shot open immediately, but Jaune took the handle of Crocea Mors to her head.

Her aura blocked it, but she was clearly dazed, and could barely choke out a “H-help.” In a blur of speed and force he brought the handle to her temple again and again till her aura broke and her eyes rolled up, a dark bruise forming with a blood dripping down the side of her head.

He felt the movement behind him, and the attempt of an illusion to cloud his mind. He feigned falling for it, and let her sneak up with the blades. Just as the girl swung he backhanded her in the throat, she wasn’t expecting it and her aura wasn’t up, so she went out like light.

That’s two.

The half-legs and the woman-girl stirred. He took Crocea Mor’s to their heads, a trickle of blood all the proof he needed.

He went over to the window and opened it, letting the Branwen in.

He pointed at the half-legs and woman-girl, “Grab em’“

The Branwan knew better to argue with him.

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The elevator opened with a ding, showing Jaune and Qrow with two unconcious bodies over their shoulders.

“Is that the culprit?” Ozpin asked with a thin frown.

Jaune nodded.

“Good, put her in the machine.” “No, Orville. I got a better way to do this.” Jaune said.

Ozpin raised a eyebrow, and Qrow looked intrigued. “What’s that Jaune?”

“This,” Jaune said raising his hand, it briefly lighting up the room before dimming revealing a pearlesque white hand.

Ozpin took step back in fear and surprise. “You completed it?!”

Qrow looked nonplussed, and raised his eyebrows. “What exactly is this ‘it’?” He asked with air quote.

“The highest form of aura manipulation I’ve achieve,” He shot a look at Ozpin. “When you have centuries of time on your hands, you either get good at what you do, or make plans for the future... I know what I’ve chosen.”

Ozpin let out a huff. “Well one of us has to make sure the world doesn’t explode.”

“Whatever,” Jaune said with a smirk, and then plunged his pearly white hand into Cinder’s chest.

Cinder awoke with a blood-chilling scream, her hands going to her chest, but then her body started thrashing like she was having a seizure.

“Yeah, I imagine having your soul invaded and having a piece ripped out isn’t very fun is it, yeah, well guess what?” Jaune said to a terrified Cinder. “Turn about is fair play, Amber was a good friend of mine, and you’re gonna pay.”

- Several bloody hours later. -

Ozpin looked mildly disturbed, while Qrow vomited in the corner.

“Dust, dust that was horrifying.” “Yeah, but I got the Maiden powers.”

“Are you going to do the same to Amber?”

Jaune nodded darkly. “Yes, but I’ll be much gentler with her.” “That does inspire much confidence.” “Well, excuse me if soul surgery isn’t exactly a very well explored field!” Jaune said to Qrow, then shot a look at Ozpin. “It would be much farther along if somebody gave me those prisoners, instead of sending me to kill super-heavy class grimm.”

“I find the survival of frontier villages and cities a more pressing matter.” Jaune shrugs. “Fair.” He then walks over to Amber’s stasis pod, a glowing orange ball in Jaune’s pearly hand.

It open and Jaune rams the orb into her, Amber’s eyes jumping open in pain.

It takes several screaming hour before Jaune is done.

“Well, she might be fine now.” “Might be?” “Very poorly explored field.”

Qrow looks over to the three accomplices, who woke during the soul surgeries, now looking very terrified.

“What about them?” “What about them? Their your problem now, as far as I’m concerned the only thing that’s my problem now is Amber, you two chucklefuck deal with the brats.”

Ozpin looked at the two children and Neo, “Soooo, anybody want some coffee.”

Edit: Forgot the Author’s note that would explain somethings, I kinda lost passion towards the end.

AN: This an AU where around a thousand years ago Ozma decided to do a mass aura awakening to see if it would bare fruit. Jaune seemed like he didn’t have semblance after couple years of training. But, come 80 years later, Ozma hears rumors of a lmmortal blonde... Jaune’s semblance is eternal youth.