#Infect gang rise up!!!

[hikorzik]

Yesterday we had our pauper event fire off with a whole TEN people I'm very happy, it's the most we've been yet :) Before, we were mostly 4-6 people. These days we're more around 6-10, which is awesome

I was playing Dimir infect as you can see! The list is in the alt text.

This deck is a lot of fun, and in many ways more consistent than mono green. However, here were my match ups, went 1-2 overall.

VS Bogles, 1-2. Was on the draw, lost the 1st one cause I couldn't go quick enough. Second one, I resolve a stinger, put a 5/1 sticker on it t3, opp doesn't find an answer, scoop. Miss played g3 : I wanted to get some life back and offensively used unexpected fangs on my dude. However I had forgotten about Ram Through and my creature was removed. I was not quick enough to rebuild and I lost this way. This was very winnable however!

VS Boros synth, 1-2. Here I know opp has a lot of removals : journey to nowhere post board, but also 4 bolts, 4 galvanic and 3 foundry helix (I was lending the deck so I know the decklist very well ahah). I tried my best to protect my things, however I made several slight mistakes. Similarly I was on the draw and won one game by being able to pass through my opp unhindered. Last game I had a moment of confusion and tried to protect an attacker from a krark clan shaman with Apostle's blessing. However! I had other creatures and blessing is actually a card I should use on offense! I would've been able to win if I had done it like that. Too bad but we'll, I'm learning!

VS Boros, 2-0. My sole win of the evening! Same principle as the last match BUT I had just learnt from my mistakes so I made better plays. Opp was also unprepared for infect and had a hard time adjusting to the threat. Game 2 I just kept a kind of greedy hand : no creatures, yes! But island and 2 ponders... And you know what they say, island ponder = keep! And I was able to stack my deck in such a way that I never missed a land drop, got a creature, AND godly protection. 3 Apostle's blessing and 2 dispels, as well as 2 command performance! I had everything to shrug off my opp's removal and attack without fear, which just got him.

I had a lot of fun even tho I lost the two first matches. Now what I've got to do is get more experience with it, notably with sideboarding. I have a kind of hard time figuring out how to sideboard here because I feel like I can keep my entire deck ahah, everything is relevant! I have a lot of leeway for improvement.

Thanks for reading, I hope you too wherever you are, have enjoyed some pauper recently, or plan to!!

[strawberri-draws]

shuichi posting

[thot-writes]

i just posted art of my werewolf tav & astarion so y’know what?? take this fic to go along w it. what would astarion/the gang do if u were a lil werewolf (i did not mean for it to get this long lol)

your vampire not-quite-boyfriend + the gang find out you’re a cheeky little pup (act i post-grove);

Lycanthropy wasn’t something you were born into like some. No, like most others bearing the curse you were infected with it. The transformation process was an excruciating, torturous one that is still branded into your very bones.

The bloodlust festers in you, day and night, like a splinter that’s burrowed too deep for you to dig out. It calls for you to rip, tear, dominate— kill. But you can suppress it. Mostly. You refuse to be one of the many werewolves that is controlled only by their base instincts.

But every full moon the beast blood takes you completely, and you have no choice but to transform. You never remember the night after you’ve turned back. Only brief snippets of red, pain, and fur.

Despite not tracking the stars, you can normally tell when a full moon’s coming because your body begins to ache, preparing itself to split open to birth the savage wolf that slumbers within. Usually you’d start your preparations to restrain yourself, to limit the carnage as much as possible.

But these aren’t usual times.

Three weeks ago you were captured from your home by mind flayers and infected with a tadpole, your entire world turned inside out with stranger things happening every day.

You now travel with a Sharran, a githyanki, two ticking time-bombs, a warlock, and a vampire.

One of their spawn, at least. It’s a good thing that in Faerûn, vampires and lycanthropes tend to be neutral towards each other — unlike what the romance novels would have you believe. Otherwise it’d make the regular sex you’re having with Astarion quite awkward.

You’d think that knowing all the sordid details about your travelling companions would bid you to confess your lycanthropy, but you could never find a way to bring it up.

Or, more accurately, you could bring it up you just didn’t want to. Not necessarily out of trauma, just convenience on your part. Confessing lycanthropy normally comes with questions, and the way you were turned is… kind of embarrassing, so you’re never keen to retell it.

But tonight, the moon will tell everyone for you. if you don’t get out in time.

The whole day your blood hammered in your flesh, your head splitting apart in a horrific headache and your bones feeling as if they could break and reshape at any moment. You lied to your companions, insisted you must’ve just drank too much last night at camp, and they bought it. Kind of. You hope.

You retired early for the day and whilst the others lounge about the camp you’re near biting your fingers off in uneasy anticipation of what’s to come. You need an excuse— any excuse to get the fuck out of here before the moon fully rises. You think you have an hour at most before you’re no longer you.

“My, but you’ve been looking ill all day, [Name]. I don’t recall you drinking that much last night.”

You almost jump out of your skin. Your heightened senses of smell and hearing usually help in preventing unpleasant surprises, but not today, not when you’re so on-edge. It was Astarion’s lilted voice that called from behind you. A sweet tune you’re all-too-happy to hear, in regular circumstances.

He gazes at you with that hard-to-read gleam in his eyes. The kind of gleam where you’re not sure if it’s because he knows something, is hiding something, or wants to tease you. You manage a shaky smile in response.

“You weren’t with me the whole night, Astarion. We slept separately,” you attempt.

“That night anyway,” he adds with a pretty little grin on his lips. You notice his gaze flickering over your body. “So you’re saying after I drank from you, you… what? Went back to your tent for some late-night binge drinking? Not that I’m surprised, you seem the type, but even still. Your hangover looks particularly… aggressive.”

You throw your hands up in an exaggerated shrug. “What, are you gonna throw an intervention for me? Gonna beat me up? Write me a letter about how much my drinking affects you?”

He chuckles. “Oh please, as if I care that much. I’m just saying that you seem a little sicker than alcohol would leave you.” He gasps, then presses a hand to his face. “What if you were poisoned? By someone in this very camp? How scandalous! My money’s on the gith.”

“If I was poisoned my money’s on you bitch.”

A grin. He always seems to smile so much in your presence. You wonder how much is real. You wonder if you’re overthinking it, or if you smile just as much as he does.

You’re ripped away from your thoughts as a terrible pain grips you. It takes all your strength not to double over right there— you’ve already drawn too much scrutiny, you don’t want more. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your trembling hands still as the curse makes itself known. The pain you experience in transforming is what you’d imagine childbirth to be — if you gave birth to a baby out of every pore. You’ve only had this curse a scant few years, how have people managed to live entire lives with it?

Astarion notices your struggle. He tilts his head and looks on. “You really do seem like you’ve been poisoned. Or at least I hope that’s all it is. If you’re sick then I’m afraid you’ll be sleeping alone for a while longer yet, pup. I don’t want… whatever that is.”

You grit your teeth to prevent a cry. “I’m fi—iine!” you grunt. The pain lapses for a moment, this is your chance to leave. “I just— I have—uhh— really bad diarrhoea!”

“What?”

You make a show of holding your stomach and slouching. “Oh man it’s soooo bad right now, I’m probably gonna be shitting up a storm in the forest all night!”

“Gods above, please… spare me the details. Just go.” Astarion waves you off and grimaces at the mental image you’ve conjured for him.

“Okay, I better go have violent diarrhoea everywhere in the forest now— don’t follow me! Don’t look for me! Don’t let anyone look for me! I gotta go, goodnight! Don’t look for me!”

You give him no time to answer as you sprint into the wilderness. Your heart is hammering and your pulse quickening. You feel you only have a few more minutes until…

A scream escapes you before you can stop it, your skin is starting to bulge and split, revealing [colour] fur beneath it. No— not now, you’re still too close to camp— just hold on a little longer.

You gather all the strength you have, which is more than usual with the wolf so near, and run.

-

You’re deep in the wild now. Your screams are more frequent, your body produces sickening crunching sounds as the wolf starts its escape. You collapse to the forest floor, writhing in abject agony as your body tears itself apart. Transforming like this only ever takes a few minutes, but it always feels so infinitely long.

Soon your cries morph into a pained howl, and the birthing process is complete. Your mind has now been banished to the darkest recesses of you, and in its place is a beast.

It’s a blur each time you’re turned like this. When it’s of your own volition the process is simpler, quicker— though no less painful. You can maintain control if you focus hard enough. But the forced transformations are a different experience entirely. There is no control, only hunger. Only fangs, claws, and a deep, insatiable yearning for prey.

Astarion did as you asked. He didn’t search for you, not even when he heard that first scream. The thought of walking in on you… projectile excreting was enough of a deterrent to stay his curiosity.

But hours have passed since then. He couldn’t hear you, there was only quiet. When Gale asked where you were, he simply said you had taken ill. But now Astarion was the only one left awake, and there was still no sign of you.

You had been acting off all day. He didn’t believe it was simply a hangover, he’d seen many in his lifetime but they never caused anyone to disappear into the woods. As far as he knew.

But then… what was this odd subtle tightness settling in his chest? The thought that maybe something had happened to you, and you were no longer safe?

Could it possibly be that he was… worried about you?

He shakes his head. No, of course not. You’re nothing more than a target, a meat shield for if and when things go wrong. He didn’t have any feelings towards you, and certainly not enough to worry.

Astarion stays awake. Not for you, of course— perish the thought— he just wanted to get more reading done. Obviously.

Another hour passes.

Then one more.

Still nothing.

He’s coursing with anxious energy now and gets to his feet. What if you’d been turned into a mindflayer? What would that mean for the rest of them? Because of course it was his own well-being he was concerned for— definitely not yours!

He goes to the tent nearest to him, Lae’zel’s, and shakes her awake.

She grunts and sits up. “Chk, what is it Astarion? Why have you disturbed me?”

“[Name] still hasn’t returned, and dawn’s almost here,” he answers. His voice is a little shaky, but it’s probably because he’s a bit cold. “We should try to find them.”

Lae’zel nods curtly and begins to rise. She slings her sword over her back and says to Astarion, “Wake the others. If [Name] has become ghaik, we will need to put them down.”

A knot forms in his stomach as he turns to rouse the others. He finds himself hoping you haven’t been transformed— then quickly catches himself and buries the feeling.

He wakes them and explains the situation, and the group splits off into pairs to search for you; Wyll and Karlach, Shadowheart and Gale, Lae’zel and Astarion.

One would think someone with your supposed illness would be leaving… traces. But there’s nothing. It was almost like you’d just vanished— until Karlach had found your clothes. There was no blood on them, no damage, no filth (at least no more than usual).

The search continues.

Dawn isn’t far. Just a little longer.

As Astarion and Lae’zel scout together, he catches a whiff of blood in the distance. Animal blood, certainly. But it seems like… a lot. He notifies Lae’zel and they follow the scent, only to come across a mauled boar carcass. It’s practically been reduced to a puddle with how much carnage was heaved upon it, and what’s more…

There’s massive paw prints in the dirt. Soaked in the blood of the boar. Could this creature have hunted you? Is that why you never returned?

They alert the others and follow the tracks, along the way finding great claw marks in the trunks of the trees, various piles of viscera from unfortunate beasts, and small patches of fur. Fur the exact same colour as your hair…

The tracks lead to a small clearing in the forest, and in the middle of said clearing is… you.

Well, not you-you, but the hunkering direwolf-humanoid you turned into.

You’re crouched down, curled into a ball as your mind rends itself in twain. As dawn approaches, so too do your senses begin to return, but the wolf is not ready to relinquish control — it never is. The two of you battle for dominance in a silent struggle, ignorant to the group surrounding you from the trees.

Your werewolf self is a grotesque, fearsome thing, even as you’re lurching in pain. Your fur is an exact match of your natural hair colour, as are your eyes, even though in this form they’re clouded in rage and hunger. If you were stood upright, they’d see how you reached just over nine feet tall, how your hands and paws were lined with razor-sharp claws. Even as pathetic as you are in your current state, you’re still no creature to be trifled with.

Shadowheart steels herself as Lae’zel raises her sword high, prepared to strike you while you’re distracted.

“Abomination,” she spits, venom heavy on her tongue. “Lurk in these woods no longer, you die by my hand.”

She brings the blade down in a wide crescent motion, and you barely move out of the way in time. She’s managed to cut you, but you’re lucky to have missed the brunt of the attack.

You leap away from Lae’zel only to move into Karlach’s range of attack. She strikes you with her battleaxe and you roar as it slices into the skin of your back. Your wound quickly heals, and you spin around to swing a clawed hand in her direction. Your fist meets her side, and she’s flung feet away.

The group— your group— begins their surprisingly well-orchestrated assault, and it becomes clear that, as strong as you are, you cannot hold out for long. Not against all of them. Probably not even against half of them.

But the gods sometimes grant small mercies. The sun finally breaks, the Dawnlord’s radiance has weakened the wolf’s chokehold on you, and you stumble backwards. Your body begins to rapidly decay and break apart, and the others step back and watch the spectacle cautiously.

In less than a minute, the vicious wolf you were has become naught but gore, and underneath is your naked body, soaked in blood.

“What the fuck— [Name]?! I’m not seeing things am I? Tell me I’m not seeing things!” Karlach exclaims, suddenly overcome with guilt at having tried to kill you.

Gale watches in resignation as you limp, holding your beaten and broken body. “You’re not. That’s our [Name], alright. A lycanthrope... What a shock.” Because of course the group can’t have one normal person, can it?

Astarion is simultaneously the most and least surprised at this revelation. “So you’re telling me this entire time I’ve been sleeping with a werewolf? Ugh, there’s a joke about giving a dog a bone in there somewhere, but I’m too tired to think of it.”

You collapse, exhaustion claiming your mind after a long, blood-filled night.

-

When you awake a couple hours later, you find you’re tucked in your bedroll, wounds tended to and dressed once again. How did you get here, you wonder? You leave your tent to find your friends waiting around in a circle by the long-dead fire.

Astarion’s the first to notice you. “Ah, darling, you’re finally awake! I don’t suppose you’d be up for a little chat, would you? I believe we’re owed an explanation.”

You freeze. An explanation for what? Did they find you and take you back here? Do they know what you are?

You don’t have to wait long for an answer.

“After everything we’ve been through, travelling together these last few weeks, I’d have thought we developed enough trust between us. But apparently not.” Gale pauses, then looks you in the eyes. “Why did you hide what you are from us?”

“This fuckin’ world is so fucked up,” you say, folding your arms and scrunching your face. “We got two people with bombs in their chests and a guy who drinks blood but because I turn into a rabid dog once a month I’m the bad guy, really?”

“We’re not saying you’re a bad guy, we’re wondering why you didn’t trust us!” Karlach protests. “We’re supposed to be friends aren’t we?”

You frown a little and slump your shoulders. “We are friends. But we’re already dealing with sooo much bullshit I just thought it’d be better if I dealt with it myself, y’know. I mean it’s not like you can help me with it anyway, cures are hard to find and lycanthropy isn’t as bad as tadpoles and orbs and devils.”

“I’m fine with your condition [Name], so long as you don’t transform in front of me, that is,” Shadowheart chimes. “But aside from that… that wolf form seemed quite formidable. Perhaps we can make use of it, now that we know.”

Astarion claps his hands excitedly. “Oh yes! I’d love to see that! Werewolves can be quite vicious you know, always good fun to see the hounds on a hunt.”

Shadowheart turns to him. “You’re not mad that your lover’s a werewolf, Astarion? I’d have thought you’d be more upset, as a vampire and all.”

He rests a hand on his hip and half heartedly inspects his nails. “Oh please, werewolves and vampires are just as likely to be allies as they are to be enemies. Cazador has had so many wolf pets over the years, I suppose it was only a matter of time until I got my own.”

“You’ve got it ass-backwards Astarion, if anything you’re my pet vampire,” you tease.

“How dare you! Here I thought puppies were supposed to be cute and obedient,” he cries in mock offence.

“Says the one who gets on all fours for a dog—”

Gale clears his throat loudly and claps his hands. “Ahem! Alright, now that that’s settled, I hope there won’t be anymore surprise revelations about the members of our group. Gods know we have more than enough of them to last a lifetime. Shall we get on? We have a long day ahead.”

It’s of a great relief to you that they didn’t ask too many questions, though you somehow suspect you’ll be telling them the humiliating story of your infection someday soon. In such a short time, you’ve grown fond of your new friends, and even fonder for a certain vampire…

And you’re sure you have a long, long road ahead of you yet.

[shadowy-suitcase-herring-neck]

Infection au part 4: Outbreak

the infection is no longer confined. you all get a little writing blip to enjoy as well :D pictures are at bottom. Tw blood/gore and disturbing imagery. also implied death. because of the amount of blood.

It had been several days since Dream, swap and Ink Found Cross lying on the ground. Several days since one of their enemies started pleading with them to help with something. Cross had been an emotional wreak the entire time. It almost hurt for Dream to be near him.

The panic and terror was overwhelming. Of course that didn't stop people saying this was some elaborate plan by Nightmare to do some sort of evil. Dream knew this wasn't true though. The emotions where real enough.

Right now though Dream was making his way to the room cross was in. It was really a glorified prison cell but at least it wasn't as bad as it could have been, considering Cross was a part of the most feared gang in the entire multiverse.

Dream stopped to greet the guards and was let in. The room wasn't lavish by any means but it had a bit of coziness to it, or maybe that was just his hopeful thinking. Cross was sitting on the bed picking at the magic canceling cuffs.

He looked up and spotted Dream. A mix of emotions always came from him whenever he was aware of the guardians prescience. There was an immediate sense of distrust and wariness but also a bit of reluctant hope. Even if he disliked dream he was aware that he was more likely to help than others.

"hey Cross" Dream said, his voice friendly.

Cross nodded in response. "what does the council say.."

"They still think it's a trap Cross." Dream sounded regret seep into his voice. He had to admit his story was rather hard to believe.

A look of anger Appeared on Cross's face. He looked like he was about to scream something in frustration but was interrupted by a guard opening the door. "Dream, we have reports of Nightmare and his team attacking underswap." Dream was confused. Normally he could sense the presence of his brother outside of wherever he his his base. Dream was then aware of the sudden increase of negativity in his friends au. Nightmare had never attacked such a positive au, doing so might have weakened him enough to risk capture or defeat. "I'm Coming, where is Blue and Ink?" Dream said heading to the door with a sense of urgency. Cross grabbed his arm making the guard step forward. "Dream please, Don't... just... Just you have to help Them- Don't let them get You. You can't help them if you end up infected- " The guard pressed the spear against cross's chest threateningly. He let go of dream and backed off. "Please- " Dream Nodded and left the room not fully understanding what exactly cross was asking him. The feeling of unease grew in his soul as he also felt the negativity in under swap rising. He found Swap waiting for him with Ink. The skeleton was obviously impatient to get going. the only thing stopping his was likely the fact he couldn't fight Nightmare's gang on his own. Dream made a portal and stepped through with his teammates. The terror dream sensed once he walked through was enough to make him stumble. It was so strong- "Dream..." Blue sounded shocked and fearful.. Dream looked up he wished he hadn't

btw there are more infected atm. several actually. The gang didn't stay in the castle very long after cross left this is just the first big attack. I couldn't draw all the infected currently attacking and they aren't very big to the story. The Infection has been spreading a bit under the radar.

[thedeafprophet]

Childhood infections gang rise up!!

was talking about my history of ear infections and i had to make a bad meme

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Undead Nightmare 2

~ Van Der Linde gang/Male!Reader

~ Platonic

~ 4k words

CW: Gore and disturbing imagery

I'm back !!!! I hope you enjoy :33 I have a few WIP fics I'm working on, along with the long awaited requests. I'm thinking abt making this a "series" of sorts (I <3 Undead Nightmare)

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In the ripe year of 1899, it was as if a new plague had just infected the entire nation– who knew how Nuevo Paraíso was doing. No one knew how it came about. One day, everything was completely fine. The sun rose and fell all the same. The people going about their normal lives without a care in the world. The next, everyone had some sort of illness, it seemed. The animals grew emaciated, more dead than alive, making it hard to find living food. Odd phenomena showed up, like THE walking sasquatch. Due to the rumors that they ate babies, you made sure to put them down before they could.

The dead were rising out of their graves, you were sure you saw your mama come back, right before she took another bullet to the back of her skull. People were killing one another left and right, fighting for their lives.

Dutch had kept everyone on their toes more than usual. Hardly even unpacking before trying to move to another camp. Everyone was scared shitless, as well as confused and partly upset. Surely, it was just mass hysteria. That was what you would assume, if you hadn’t just killed another walking corpse hobbling through the trees at the smell of human flesh.

“Well, what the hell’s wrong with ‘em?” You hear Dutch press gruffly, earning a confused sputter from the undoubtedly inebriated Reverend. Your eyes flick around the trees along the edge of camp warily, trying to find more of those undead freaks. Unable to find any, you shuffle a bit more inward to the center of camp, one rifle in hand, the other on your back.

“I thought you were supposed to be a priest.” Micah remarks sarcastically, as if he had any ground to stand on for morality’s sake, you roll your eyes. You weren’t too sure how it happened, you saw them die right after the Blackwater heist had failed.

Yet, here they were, young Jenny, Mac, and Davey. All tied together in the middle of camp, growling and hissing as Swanson attempts to anoint them with a flask, flicking whatever liquid happens to be inside that thing, but it’s definitely not Holy water.

“Damn, they stink..” Lenny grimaces. His eyes flick over to you as you approach the group before they return to the undead trio. “No better than you or the O’Driscoll.” Bill adds. Normally, it was a comment that would’ve gotten a chuckle, at the expense of the boy, Kieran, you learned, with whom had been practically kidnapped back in Colter.

Everyone was up to their ears in stress, really. The Pinkertons were less of a concern than the rotting bodies that piled in the streets. Add that to the list of trying to keep twenty people alive. It was pretty unanimously decided to send the women and Jack away, board them up someplace with one of the men to protect them. John just so happened to be that man..until he rotates responsibility to someone new, that is.

The gang was tighter than you’d ever seen before, despite joining not too long after Charles had. Trying to protect each other from the horrors that had become society. “Maybe we should just kill them. Get it over with.” Javier suggests, earning a side-eye from Dutch. “He’s right, Dutch. Keeping ‘em here won’t do any of us any good. They’ll only bring a horde.”

“No.” Dutch responds flatly, now outright glaring at you. “We need to stay loyal. Respect our brothers, and dear Jenny, who have fallen before us. If we merely slaughter them..like animals.. We would be no better than they themselves. Savages. Beasts. Faith, and a little redemption, is all they need, son.” You didn’t see Dutch’s point. Not in the slightest. But you didn’t push the issue, knowing chaos was unnecessary during the end of the world as you knew it.

Shuffling off, you spot Hosea sitting on a short stump, staring blankly at the crowd hovering over the trio of undead. “Any ideas?” you inquire, to which he shakes his head with a dissatisfied hum. “It just don’t make sense, Y/N. They aren’t supposed to… y’know.”

You nod as you kneel down next to him, feeling the pressure get taken off your aching feet and back, down onto your knees as they nestle into the grass. Resting one of your firearms on the ground next to you, the other remaining strapped to your back. Despite all the chaos amok, nature still felt the same as it was. You wondered if the trees would remember, only to be pulled out of your thoughts with a sigh from Hosea.

“I sent Sean out with Arthur to find information. Hunt down the nearest school or something..” He mutters, causing you to quirk an eyebrow in confusion. “Arthur and..Sean..? You know he can’t–” You start. “I know.” Hosea cuts in, his eyes flicking away from the crowd to look down at you instead. “Sean can’t read. But, Arthur is the best gun we have, even if he isn’t the most literate. Keeping Sean around camp is a death wish to us all. Like a hyena in a lion’s den.” He explains calmly, earning another curt nod from you. That was the best way to describe ol’ Sean MacGuire. A hyena.

“What’d you want me to do?” You ask, feeling a bit useless just standing around and pondering what to do with Jenny, Mac, and Davey. Hosea hums, reaching into the pocket on his vest and pulling out an old pocket watch. “Maybe you should check on the women with John.. Bring ‘em some food. Find game for Pearson while you’re at it.” He suggests, putting the watch back into its designated pocket.

The thought of leaving camp made you uneasy, but it had to be done. Pushing yourself to stand, you pick up your rifle. Silently dismissing yourself from camp, just as anyone had done before any of this started, you make your way over to the hitch rails and to your horse.

It whinnies as you approach, only growing more wary with the apocalypse, a sentiment you could understand. Holding your hand out in a placating gesture, a small ‘shh’ leaving your lips. The palm of your hand comes to rest on its nose, while the other moves to unwrap the reins from around the rotting wooden rail.

Just as you adjust to step up into the stirrup, you hear someone calling your name from behind you. Turning around quicker than you meant, you spot Charles approaching, Taima in tow. “You need help?” He asks. While you wouldn’t admit it, it’d be nice to have him around. Especially for Hosea’s request of finding game for Pearson, you were a lousy hunter. Ironically better at killing humans than animals. Maybe that was just empathy’s game.

“Sure.” You muse, pushing yourself to mount your horse, swinging your leg up and over the saddle and taking a seat. Slipping one of your rifles into the carbine scabbard on your saddle, the other remaining strapped to your back, not even daring to come down. You need to be ready at all costs, especially with such limited ammunition being passed around. Gunsmiths all got raided God knows when. “‘sea asked me to switch with John, check up on the women ‘n Jack. Bring ‘em a bit of food and bring game back to camp for Pearson.”

Charles merely gives a small hum in acknowledgement, silently mounting Taima alongside you before gently pushing his heels into her flanks, with you to follow suit, allowing Charles to lead you out of camp.

“How you feel ‘bout all this?” You ask, but it’s a bit of a stupid question. Of course Charles wouldn’t feel good about it. No one in their right mind would. “Terrible.” He replies monotonously without missing a beat. “Just feels cruel, I guess.”

“You wonder if they’re suffering?” You inquire. A quick snap of the reins and a small click of your tongue causes your horse to speed up with a small huff. You keep your eyes focused on surrounding land. Watching for both predators, live prey, and those damn freaks.

“Maybe.. But- I’m not them. Ain’t too sure.” Charles sighs, doing the same to be riding alongside you, just heading East and staying away from the streets. Who knew what kind of monstrosities could lie in the cities. You didn’t even want to imagine what Saint Denis was like or how bad it smelled..worse than usual.

It was simple idle conversation, which often happened out on the longer rides, but it made it that much easier to bear. Sometimes sitting for hours at a time, riding down from Annesburg, to Saint Denis, to the middle-of-nowhere New Hanover and back to camp..all in time to make it back for Pearson’s stew in the evening.

Yet, even so, the rides were often longer than you’d like. This one in particular just felt agonizingly slow. It was one of the only times you’d left camp since this whole debacle began and you hated it. Instead of being on edge for lawmen or rival gangs, you were on edge for the growling mob of the undead. Some were slow, some ran after you like their asses were on fire. Some were dumb and brutish, while others spat acidic bile. Truly terrible. Though, the plus side is that they made noise, unlike Pinkertons.

Currently making your way across the tracks separating New Hanover and the East Grizzlies, Ambarino. Out towards a little known cabin Arthur has dubbed ‘Martha’s Swain’. When he first showed it to you, in a desperate attempt for the gang to find some place to hide the women and little Jack, there was one of those rat bastard walking corpses inside. Though, you had little time to assume if she was Martha before she was shot in the face by Arthur. After burying her outside, the cabin was deemed safe and hidden.

As you and Charles approached the cabin, after a damn too long ride, the silence in the air was concerning. Normally, that would be a good thing. Finally a moment to stretch your legs and relax. But now, that was the last thing you wanted. It was suspicious. Charles gives you a side eye with a small nod, pulling his bow out from around his torso and carefully dismounting.

Not wanting to make a ruckus, nor waste ammo, you leave your longarm in its scabbard on your saddle. Instead, unsheathing your knife and hopping down onto the grass with a small huff, your rifle weighing heavy on your back.

You silently follow after Charles, the pair of you half crouch-walking to avoid being seen by anything in the probable vicinity. Your eyes blown wide with caution and your heart racing in your chest, you’re sure your ears are ringing. Rapidly scanning your surroundings as you approach the cabin door. No sign of any threats yet..except for a bear. Your mind flashes with a split image of getting mauled by it, only to shudder instinctively.

Turning your head back to the door as you hear it creak open. Your grip on your knife tightening as Charles pushes it open, bow drawn. The two of you don’t share a word as you follow Charles inside.

To your horror, there’s one of those undead freaks trapped inside the cabin, feasting on someone. A short gasp leaves your lips in surprise, causing it to raise its head just enough from the body, allowing Charles to let go of his bow string, sending an arrow through its deflated, maggot ridden, left eye. Due to the force, the zombie is knocked backwards, dead once again.

“Where the hell is everyone?” Charles asks gruffly, to which you shake your head in uncertainty, already making your way over to the body. You’ve seen a lot of fucked up things in your life, but this takes the cake. The poor sod was still breathing…barely. His blood seeped into the cracks of the cabin, his eyes were wide with terror.

“Help- ..me…” He chokes, and you wish there was something you could do. Several bite marks and infected scratches cover the man’s body, already flushing the skin an unsightly gray-blue, slowly clawing up the man’s insides as the infection travels through his blood stream, though his pulse is slow. Skin was missing from the man’s body, his abdomen punctured and organs ruptured, leaking blood, pus, bile, and, undoubtedly, his bowel contents all over his clothes and the floor underneath. It’s sad– revolting… but every man for himself.

You felt a hint of guilt, sure. Raising your knife above your head with both hands before plunging it down into the middle of the man’s dirty forehead. You can feel bile climbing your throat, forcing you to swallow to hold it back down. It wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before; the man’s skull just split in half like a goddamn onion. Brain matter leaking out of the bowl-shaped-skull, barely getting snagged on the optic nerve before it paints your boots. But, at the end of the day, your conscience was eased. He was put out of his misery, and there’s less of the undead crawling around.

“Gross..” You mutter, your lip curling in disgust as you stand back up. Wiping off the flat of your knife onto your denim clad jeans. Your eyes linger on the man, a sick image burned into your retinas. But, upon further inspection, the man is wearing a green vest, hardly able to be seen underneath the blood. Torn up by the undead’s mangy claws.

“O’Driscoll.” You point out to Charles with a gesturing nod of your head. Charles, uninterested with the scene, steps past you and further into the cabin, searching for where John had taken the women and young Jack.

“Maybe he had something to do with it.” You mutter, sheathing your knife, heading into the opposite side of the cabin to do the same. “Maybe.” He muses flatly, rifling through the many different belongings atop Martha’s rotting wood table. Accidentally toppling over a vase, swiftly picking it up before it could create noise.

Turning the knob of one of the back doors, you use your shoulder to push it open, finding a nearly empty bedroom as well. Nothing of value to be taken. But, abandoning that thought, you move into the room. Your boots squelching against the unknown substance covering the floor. Pushing forward, you make your way to an end table. By the looks of it, it’s already been robbed. You could only guess it was the gang’s doing. Regardless, you pull open the drawer in search for a letter or a sign. Nothing.

Not bothering to close the drawer, you shift to check the mattress. Patting around the edges, feeling for a ripped seam, the wood slats inside creak in agony as a protest to the movements. You could only imagine how old they were. To your shock, you find a hidden letter inside one of the cracks. Internally groaning, you slip your hand inside the mattress, pulling it out, along with whatever insides the mattress had to spare.

Slipping the letter into your other hand, you shake your hand free of the yellow dust that coats it. “Dear Mr. Kilgore–” it starts, but you don’t get much further. Hearing a “you find anything?” from Charles in the other room.

“Yeah!” You call back, walking back through the door, your eyes briefly scanning over the letter. Charles rushes up to you, faster than he meant to. “What’s it say?” He inquires. “From the gang.” you mutter quietly, flipping the page over to check the back of it before turning it over again to read aloud.

“Dear, Mr. Kilgore. Your grand-nieces have just been lovely, it’s truly an honor to have met them. I appreciate you letting us borrow your cabin for the weekend, but I regret to inform you that we must be headed off now. There’s no shortage of adventures to find in the great state of New Hanover. I hear Flat Iron Lake is just lovely this time of year, lots of good fish to eat! Especially from that lovely dock you mentioned that is oh, so near Flatneck Station.

I do hope you would grace us with your presence once more, but we understand if it would be a burden to request such a thing so soon after your return home from France. Do wish your brothers the best from us, will you? Good health is always important to us, you know. Yours truly, Mr. and Mrs. Van Winkle.”

With a small click of your tongue, you hand off the letter to Charles, who accepts it without missing a beat. Even if you weren’t being actively chased by Pinkertons, it was still easier to lie about your identities. You watch his eyes reread everything before you walk right past him, headed for the door. It’s pretty damn clear where they went. Though, a thought lingers in the back of your mind. What chased them off? It had to have been something they couldn’t kill. John was a coward, but he was stupid enough to stand his ground when protecting the vulnerable..right?

“Back to New Hanover, then.” Charles remarks, following you to the door, slipping the letter into his pocket.Though, as soon as you reach the door, you pause. A familiar growling heard from the other side..just barely. Holding up one of your hands, you silently tell Charles to wait.

Leaning forward and pressing your ear to the wood to listen outside. Only for the door to swing open as someone, or something, forces its body weight against the wood, knocking you down in turn. Pinned underneath one of the heaviest undead you’ve come across, you struggle to reach your knife.

Several gunshots ring out inside the small cabin, making your ears ring. You hardly had time to register what just happened before it slumps forward with a hiss, oozing something akin to blood all over you. It smells foul. You could hardly keep yourself from vomiting, gagging and swallowing down the puke that manages to make its way into your mouth with a small shudder.

You completely forgot about Charles until he kicks the hefty zombie off of you, causing the twice now corpse to roll off and onto the floor. “You alright?” He asks, oddly calm as he extends a hand down to you, holstering his gun with his other hand. He hated using it, but sometimes it was more than necessary.

With a slow nod, you place your hand in his own, allowing yourself to be helped to your feet. Your legs feel foreign underneath you as you stare down at the dumb brute that had attacked you. But, you don’t have any time to process it. With a pat on your shoulder from Charles, he finally heads out the wide open door with you following close behind.

Letting out a loud whistle from between your teeth, not exactly wanting to stick your fingers in your mouth after wrestling with that undead brute. Your eyes flicking around your surroundings, hearing the sound of hooves approach. No doubt your horse and Taima got scared of the monster. That or something different.

“You’re quiet.” Charles states bluntly, looking you over, It’s not a judgmental comment– the opposite. He’s concerned. He’s used to your thoughts leaving your mouth before you had a chance to stop it. Though, he could understand. Naturally, anyone would be a bit shaken up. He was confident you would get through it. “Ain’t you always?” You retort without batting an eye, earning a dry chuckle from Charles. “You ain’t wrong.”

Your eyes dart over to movement in the treeline, growing a bit tense at first, only to relax at the sight of Taima’s nose, a hint of a smile crosses your lips at the sight. Nodding towards her as Charles approaches her, whispering a small praise under his breath. Walking past him, you spot your own horse just down the hill, slowly making your way down to it with Charles just on your tail.

Your horse whinnies as it sees you, it’s tail swishing back and forth. “Easy..” you coo, reaching up and gently petting its mane. Getting closer and stepping up into the stirrup, further heading down the hill, expecting Charles to follow suit, which he does.

“There was another letter inside.” Charles mumbles, riding alongside you. You glance over towards him, silently asking for an elaboration, before facing forward again. Both of you heading right back down from Ambarino and back into New Hanover. “From the owner’s husband. He was in the Confederacy.” He explains, a hint of distaste in his tone.

You nod silently in understanding, remembering the skeleton you and Arthur had buried not too long ago. You hardly even registered the sight of the setting sun until it shines right in your eyes, humming with discontent as you squint. Your posture straightens as you focus more and more on the sounds around you, until you follow Charles further into the woods, finally having a bit of respite.

It’s unfortunate, really. Not finding any sort of live animals..or any at all, really. The plains were oddly silent now, more than before. Undead animals haunted the fields, attacking anything in their sights with the intention to infect further. The remaining, living animals were all emaciated. The disruption to the food chain was detrimental to the entire ecosystem…clearly.

All seemed well on the long ride to Flatneck station, until you hear gunfire echoing loudly in the distance. Much to your dismay, Charles races forward, leaving you to follow behind in a huff. Coming across the small, abandoned trading post, you damn near sigh in relief. John is the one firing the gun, getting frustrated with Abigail and readjusting her hold on a rifle to properly aim a half broken beer bottle resting atop the railway tracks.

“John!” Charles calls with a hefty sigh of relief. John tears his gaze away from Abigail and over towards you and Charles. You were sure there was a small smile on his face out of relief. “Uncle Charles! Uncle Y/N!” You hear Jack call before the door to the small building flies open and the boy comes running out. You couldn’t imagine how scary it must be for him.

Both you and Charles dismount at the same time. Jack nearly tackles your leg into a hug, allowing you to ruffle his hair. “We didn’t find any food on our way.” Charles informs, to which John shakes his head with a heavy sigh. “We got a couple rabbits on our way out..ain’t much at all.” “Better than nothin’?” You offer, to which John offers a half-hearted shrug. As Jack lets go of you, you follow after him inside the small building, mostly to check up on the other women. It’s incredibly cramped as you step inside. Five women, excluding Abigail, with Jack and yourself. But beggars can’t be choosers.

Molly is staring at her reflection in the small mirror, gently pulling at her skin. Karen, Mary-Beth, and Tilly are quietly whispering amongst themselves. Though, Karen seems shaky and jittery. You can only imagine what her lack of alcohol is doing to her body.

“Y/N.” Susan greets with a curt nod, sitting just by the door, her shotgun laying over her lap. A terrifying sight on its own. “Miss.” You reply with a nod of your own. Gently nudging Jack away from you and further inside into protection.

“How y’all been holdin’ up?” You inquire. Stealing a wary glance over your shoulder to make sure Charles, John, and Abigail were fine just outside, before returning your gaze back down to Grimshaw.

“As good as we can be..” She sighs. Her weathered hands idly feeling over the metal firearm. “I imagine y’all saw the wreck the cabin was left in?” You nod, earning a pleased hum from Susan. “O’Driscoll showed up and tried to rob us when John went out for food. He brought a damn.. horde with him. We handled most of ‘em, had to leave when we started getting overrun. Barely had time for Mary-Beth to write that letter.” She explains.

It made sense. A bunch of kick-ass outlaws wouldn’t just..abandon their safehouse for no reason. Leaning back against the doorway, you let yourself slide down it until you’re finally sitting, just relaxing. Resting your eyes with a heavy sigh, you’ve had enough to do with today. Just in desperate need for a nap. Yet, you know you can’t sleep yet. Especially not here. But Gods.. you want to. You definitely need to. You’re not sure how long it’s been since you last slept.

“Y/N.” Charles calls. With a small hum of acknowledgement, you force your eyes open, looking up towards him. “You head back to camp.. I’ll stick around here.” Nodding along blankly, you force yourself to stand up again. Yawning widely as you step fully out of the trading post, passing John and Charles, giving each of them a pat on the shoulder and a small nod to Abigail, shuffling back to your horse and mounting up, setting off into the night.

The lingering burden of finding food for camp weighs on your mind. But, as you slowly trek through the dark forests, you find nothing. You could blame it on your exhaustion or the dark..or some sort of noise, but there’s nothing around. Not a soul except you. It nearly snaps you awake, feeling a chill creep down your spine and the feeling of eyes on you. Clicking your tongue off the roof of your mouth, commanding your horse to speed up. You don’t want to be out for any longer than you need to.

But, as you come back to camp, the ride feels shorter. Dismounting your horse with an exhausted sigh, hitching up the reins to one of the rails, right next to Gwydion, Trelawny’s horse. Not feeling like dealing with the magician at the moment, your eyes flick around camp until you spot Hosea on his bedroll. You offer him a shrug, signifying you didn’t find anything, earning a solemn nod in response.

Hearing the growls and hisses from young Jenny, Mac, and Davey, your day ends just as it started. Laying down on your bedroll, your muscles aching and your skin slick with sweat. Though, unlike last night, you allow sleep to claim you and hope that, at some point, things will be okay again.

.....................................................................................................................

[nynyhaha]

Phantom troupe going to the dentist

-Shizuku: Forgets to brush her teeth,forgets dentists exist and forgets appointments when she has them.When her teeth start hurting she usually goes to Machi who takes care of finding a dentist nearby.Doesn’t mind the process,one time she fell asleep during it.Forgets to keep her mouth open.

“Don’t eat until three hours have passed.”

*goes straight to McDonalds 

-Machi: Wasn’t happy to learn how teeth and caries work but accepted it and follows recommendations.She’s glad to have accessible medicine.Respects dentists.

Tells other members stuff like not to bathe in blood cause it’s an infection bringer,explains that she can’t heal teeth and they have to seek out a dentist.

Either forcefully gets the whole troupe to a clinic or suggests to kindnap one dentist and have them in the hideout checking everyone’s teeth.Everyone promises to take care of it on their own when needed.

-Pakunoda:Does what Machi tells her,doesn’t have many problems.The dentist thinks she’s an ordinary customer,she’s mature enough for it.

-Kalluto: His parent’s concern it is.Has a sweet tooth like Killua and Alluka,not as bad as Killua but well

-Feitan: Doesn’t go there unless he really needs to because yk HE is the torturer,not backwards.Doesn’t say a thing during the process but if something hurts he glares at the dentist enough for the poor guy to shit his pants,so much bloodlust is there.

Won’t bite without reason,but likes to imagine activating rising sun at the dentist.

He finds the tools interesting,might ask what they’re called or steal them for his own use.Might pay with stolen money,might not.Yk what’s more likely.

“No we don’t need a toy,don’t kill the doctor Fei”when he goes with Phinks or Chrollo.

-Phinks: Only agreed to go because Feitan threatened to take care of his tooth himself.Doesn’t like it,argues with the people in line,the doctor and the nurse.

Fights anyone who says he’s scared,he’s all tough man and definitely NOT scared.

-Chrollo: If it has be done there’s no use in resistance.He doesn’t like the pain but even if it’ll hurt it won’t compare to all things wrong with the world.And a gang leader doesn’t fear torture.Takes a book to read while waiting,during the procedure he thinks about the meaning of life.Gets along with the dentist just fine,will pay if he has money on him.

-Shalnark: He hates it.He pretends that he’s not scared but will avoid it at all costs.

-Uvogin: doesn’t believe in caries,but his teeth are healthy and hard(he bites skulls)

The way he might actually damage them is by consuming acid or having some ultra stable material break his tooth.Will do something about it only when biting starts to hurt/doesn’t work anymore.

Dentists wonder how his teeth are so healthy when he doesn’t take much care of them.Dislikes procedures and stuff like those things they put on you to protect your clothes.Seat is too small for him.Doesn’t mind the process.

-Nobunaga: similar to Uvogin,except he doesn’t fully leave his teeth without attention.

Might try some natural samurai medicine/toothpaste.Doesn’t like acknowledging his tooth is hurting.Will ignore it if it’s on mission but will be in a bad mood and start fights with everyone around him.

-Bonolenov: He is used to injuries and pain and sees it as part of life.On the upside of growing up in a tribe,he knows natural medicine quite well and tells the others what plans to use to ease the pain if they’re out in the wild.He’s not scared of dentists but he doesn’t like it either.

-Franklin:Someone who had his fingers cut off doesn’t fear dentists.They fear him,tho

-Kortopi: Doesn’t mind treatment for his tooth if it hurts but is suspicious of medical staff since they might look at him weirdly.Usually has someone else go with him.

[elucienweekofficial]

Elucien Fanfic Crossword Answer Key- Multi Chapter Modern AU

How did you do? It's our hope through this week of puzzles that folks are able to find an existing fanfiction that speaks to them! Consider these a small masterlist filled with recommendations from the community itself. Below you'll find every fanfiction recommended attached to the author who created it, added in the order they were submitted! Fics were also categorized to their best of our ability. Check them out below!

playgirl by @damedechance

Under the anonymous screen name witch_hazel, Elain Archeron has been moderating the chatroom of rising OnlyFans creator, swiper-no-swiping (Lucien) for a little less than a year. When he comes to Velaris from out of town, they agree to meet up, and the unspoken attraction between them reaches a boiling point.

I Can Wait For You At The Bottom by @missfckingfortune

Elain was going to make him say it. She was going to pry the answer from him, from deep inside in that place he kept the things he was not always ready to admit. “Because I still l-” Lucien faltered under her caustic glare like a coward. He could not fully own up to what he felt, what he never stopped feeling, even for a single second. “I still care for you, Elain.” “Weird,” She mused, tracing her elegant fingers around the rim of the tequila bottle. “Because in a lot of those songs, you make me sound like the villain."

Wishing On Dandelions by @separatist-apologist

When Elain is gifted a castle from her late Uncle, she expects it to come with bats in the attic and ghosts in the halls.

Not a grouchy English Lord hell bent on pushing her out.

Things I Can't Give Up, Not Even For You by @iambutmortal

Elain has no interest in the family business. Leave the crime to her sisters, she’s content to teach middle school biology at the same school she attended. But when rival gang leader Hybern endangers her life, her sisters decide she needs protection in the form of Lucien Vanserra their annoying, albeit attractive, associate. Elain’s determined to get rid of him. Too bad Lucien’s determined to stay.

tangled cable car wires by @thelovelymadone, @thehaemanthus and bennyslavabuns

Elain Archeron is about to start her two week staycation away from her rival, and co-worker, Lucien Vanserra. What could possibly go wrong?

back to december (all the time) by @poisonivy206

They are old friends, you could say. In the way that people who grew up in the same small town in the English countryside are. In the way that people who’ve known each other for longer than they haven’t are. In the way that people who’ve seen each other grow and change and fall apart are. But they’re not those people anymore. The Elain and Lucien standing here now haven’t known each other for years.

Lucien is always searching. Elain is afraid to be found. When life happens, they have to find themselves before making their way back to each other. Eleven years of twists and turns, hard decisions, old dreams, and new hopes.

Vanserra Wildlife Rescue by headcanonheadcase

Lucien Vanserra runs a wildlife rescue and rehabilitation center. When his mother sets him up on a blind date, he agrees. But on the night of the date, a call comes in about an injured fox. With no one else around to respond, Lucien cancels the date and goes out to help. Meanwhile, Elain Archeron was on her way into town to meet someone for a blind date when she accidently clipped a fix with her car. She wants to sit and wait with the injured animal to comfort it, but the man from the wildlife center asks her to wait in her car for him to arrive. What will happen when Lucien and Elain meet?

Neon In The Nighttime by @separatist-apologist

It's the end of the word as we know it. A west coast baker and the drummer of a metal band team up in Boston, MA thinking they're one of the last few people left alive after a viral outbreak turns those infected into blood hungry monsters.

Their destination: Los Angeles, California- the last place Lucien's eldest brother was living while gearing up for a presidential run. Lucien is desperate to escape the memories of his past life and what he had to do when his wife, Jes, became infected. Elain wants to try and reclaim the fractured pieces of the life she remembers before everything went to hell.

my true love gave to me... by @howlingcaptaincommando

Dear Elain (the note reads),

I know it’s not Christmas yet; you have very strict rules about when Christmas begins, after all. But consider this the first of twelve presents coming to you, from today until Christmas Eve. If anyone deserves to have the holiday properly celebrated, it’s you.

Xx A Secret Admirer

Or, the story of how Elain is wooed for four weeks by a secret admirer, and finds herself torn between the mysterious stranger who becomes more and more dear to her by the day, and the friend she's been half in love with for almost a year. How could she ever choose between them?

Turn Your Ghosts Into Mine by @highladydawn and @separatist-apologist

The Archeron women have been considered witches in their little Massachusetts town of Velaris for centuries and Nesta, Elain, and Feyre are no exceptions. After witnessing a love spell gone horribly wrong, the three young girls create a spell for their perfect man, vowing they will not love until they meet this man.

That, of course, all goes out the window when adult Feyre meets Tamlin Angelov. When Arizona detectives Lucien Vanserra, Rhysand Windhaven, and Cassian Sidra arrive on their doorsteps looking for the missing man, all three Archeron women will be forced to reconcile who they are and their place in Velaris.

Practical Magic AU

Sweet Nothing by @wilde-knight

When Elain loses her career-driven job and her presumed boyfriend in one devastating moment, her fall from grace is anything but graceful. In a desperate move to pick her floundering life up off the floor, she agrees to take a temp job working at a family-run farm over maple season. Can she make the wayward brother melt with the winter snow? Or will she remain frozen in defeat forever?

Around the World by @lucienarcheron

Elain’s night ends with an unexpected twist when she meets a handsome stranger at a bar. Eluien Prostitute/Client Modern AU

The Locker Room Pact by @king-maven-calore

Lucien Vanserra will soon find out that his transfer to play as goalkeeper for the historically rival football team entails many more responsibilities than he bargained for. Or: The one time Elain tries to have a casual hook-up goes spectacularly wrong.

Only On My Mind by @shadowriel

Everything in Elain’s life seems to be going wrong — from one failed relationship after another to the listless, draining hours she spends working in biotech. When Lucien, her former flirty, yet infuriating lab mate, joins the company and gets assigned to the same project, Elain can’t help but think that things will get so much worse.

A Elucien romcom inspired by Ali Hazelwood’s Love on the Brain

Don't Blame Me by @separatist-apologist

They say she's gone too far this time

Elain Archeron is certain Graysen Lockhart is the love of her life. She'd stake her life and her reputation on it, and could not be swayed…until visual proof of his constant, unrelenting cheating is sent to her in the undeniable form of pictures and screenshots. Humiliated and angry, Elain vows revenge the only way she knows will get under his skin.

She decides to sleep with his arch nemesis, Lucien Vanserra.

come a little bit closer (you're my kind of man) by @howlingcaptaincommando

When the summer gets too hot for comfort, the only thing for it is a pool party...with some very pretty boys.

or, Elain in her hot girl summer era, and Vassa encouraging every minute of it.

Holy Ground by @separatist-apologist

I don't wanna dance if I'm not dancing with you.

Elain Archeron thought she had it all until she catches her fiancé sleeping with another woman a week before they're supposed to be married. Forced to re-evaluate her entire life in the city she'd always dreamed of living in. Blind sighted when her ex-fiancé informs her he's taking his mistress on their honeymoon, Elain decides to move back in with her dad in his countryside home just until she's back on her feet.

Lucien Vanserra swore he was done with Elain Archeron when he learned the news of her engagement. Setting aside his childhood crush, Lucien gets on with his life, makes new friends, and starts a good job in the town he'd grown up in. The black sheep of the Vanserra family, Lucien tries to keep a low profile despite his elder brother's constant meddling. He's not looking for love.

When Lucien and Elain reconnected on the dock behind her childhood home, sparks fly instantly and Elain is forced to reconsider what she wants out of her life, and if there's a place for Lucien in it.

The Thin Lines Between Hate and Love by @thelovelymadone

it takes thirteen good interactions to forget one bad interaction. how long does it take to fall out of a negative view and in love? pretty quickly. but how do you fall out of trained habits? it’s suppose to take three silly weeks yes?

plant your story by @thelovelymadone

What do you get the “nepo” baby that has everything?

She has everything. Fame, fortune, family—name it, she has it. But after Hybern nearly gets her family under a conservativeship and dealing with the fallout of a failed engagement, the paparazzi have been hounding her front door nonstop. Frustrated, she tells a white lie—and now she’s got a camera in her face 24/7. Can she survive this? Or does she fall for the wrong guy again?

What do you get the child of a heart of gold that has nothing?

He has nothing. Not a cent to his name, his heroic deeds are classified, and his “found family” wants nothing to do with him. With the exception of one member: Feyre Archeron. He’s determined to get back on his feet and put that ex-Secret Service and Stunt Double training as a favor: be a bodyguard to the spoiled Elain Archeron. Should be easy right? Unfortunately, scaredy cat Princess tied their fates together and he can’t go through with this—or can he? He’s not going to fall in love with her, right?

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Something That Wasn't There Before by @thelovelymadone

Attorney Lucien Vanserra use to go into the Cauldron Brew for the occasional early morning or late night for a pick me up. But ever since law student Elain Archeron has taken over the counter, Lucien finds himself drawn to her. And he can’t explain why.

empty true promises by @thelovelymadone

Lucien Vanserra is your best friend. He’s the one to get you the guy you like to notice. Or he’s your teammate who kicks the soccer ball for you to score. He’s in the background in everyone’s life—including his own. A perfect, tight fit.

That is until one game of seven minutes of heaven will change his world forever—gone is the fox wearing a bunny mask. In his new place, he might get the starring role in his own life after all.

Even if he knows the female lead will not choose him in the end. For the female lead gets the guy and he gets to be her best friend, in the end.

[verdemoun]

sad macsummers hours where one of them gets sick and has to stay in hospital but will like recover becuz im watching my neighbour totoro where the mum is in hospital and idk it made me sad

I've been toying with the idea of the gang having some lingering complications from how they died so this is perfect.

Lenny suffers a spontaneous pneumothorax that is further complicated by post-surgical infection. Not only is Lenny being in hospital an ordeal on Sean in itself, but due to chest tubes, oxygen and other supportive medication Lenny can't talk to him.

This is a problem because 1. Sean is a nervous yapper and is slowly going insane not being able to have Lenny respond 2. Sean just doesn't understand the doctors. The staff are obviously geniuses and Lenny is getting the best care but they cannot explain what they are doing in a way Sean understands and Lenny can't talk to translate for him.

Sean feels as helpless as he would be in a different country to Lenny. He doesn't know what's happening, he doesn't know how to help, all he knows is that Lenny was meant to be going home after 6 days, and they were both smiling and laughing, and then Lenny was sick and struggling to breathe again and throwing up and feverish and sicker than he was when he first went in.

He does not leave Lenny's bedside, and the first thing Lenny says when he has the tubes removed for a second time and can talk again is 'I love you but you need a shower'.

Sean also holds Lenny's hand so tightly he almost breaks it.

Lenny tries his hardest to pretend everything is okay for Sean's sake because Sean is ruined seeing Lenny get sick, being afraid he's going to lose him because for Sean it's the first time he's gone through the grief of seeing Lenny so close to death, but eventually Lenny has to break too.

Sean, after weeks of feeling helpless, at least knows how to comfort his husband while Lenny goes through the terror of it sinking in that life is as fragile as it was in canon era.

--

Plus some canon era for a different flavor

Sean isn't okay when he is brought back to Horseshoe Overlook. Lenny helps him off Boaz and immediately knows it's not going to be bouncing back to normal Sean, despite the grin Sean has. He's running on the relief of being rescued and the adrenaline of being held upside down helpless during a shootout.

His arms are too thin. His skin is unnaturally warm to the touch. It takes every puppy-eyed boyfriend stare just to get Sean to sit down long enough to process the number of injuries. To notice the missing tooth and immediately force himself to stop staring at it. The healing black eye.

Second the adrenaline wears off, the pain sets in. The fever climbs. As much as horseback would be faster Lenny insists on the mercy of taking the wagon, with Sean laying in the back instead of trying to sit upright.

None of them are potentially fatal injuries. Sean is going to be okay, Lenny knows that. Sean knows that. But it's more than the gang can handle right now. Lenny is relieved to know Sean will be in the safety of a doctor's office.

Except Sean loathes doctors. And it doesn't help that the doctor in Valentine just seems like a shifty, nervous, feller. The number one thing Sean needs is rest and sleep, and Lenny knows Sean struggles enough sleeping without being in the creepy attic clinic of a doctor's office.

When he's asleep, Lenny lets it sink in how terrible Sean looks. If it wasn't for how thin he is, and how obvious the rise and fall of his chest is in his sleep, Sean would look like a corpse. He doesn't want waking up alone to be the final stress Sean can't cope with.

So begins weeks of battling Sean on Sean's behalf. Sean wants to be fine, he wants to be back with the gang and he does not want to be laying in bed all day being told to stay still so he can recover when the process seems heinously slow regardless.

That doesn't mean Sean has much fight. He puts so much energy into pretending to be fine, and arguing he's ready to go home to the gang and back to robbing, he sleeps 18 hours a day. Or sometimes he wakes up and admits his entire body hurts, and he's too nauseous to eat, and just looks out the dirty little window miserable.

Lenny stays as often as he can. Constantly, after catching Sean having snuck out and staggered to the bar before passing out on a stool. They play cards on goods days, Lenny reads to him on bad. The gang move on to Clemen's Point, but Lenny stays behind. Sean isn't ready.

Sean regains his strength on cute little dates walking around Valentine, getting excited over candy bars at the grocery store and beef stew at the saloon that they both think is better than Pearson's cooking. Sean's burned feet result in a bone infection, with the pain in his ankle lasting months. He uses a cane on bad days, and then realizes he quite likes using it as a weapon even on his good days.

By the time Sean is well enough to head back to camp, he actually dreads the lifestyle. He's gotten used to a physical bed, and the sheer concept of privacy. He likes having Lenny to himself too much - fake coughs and jokes he has an infection and needs to stay a few more nights. They both miss the gang too much to leave, but the thought crosses their minds.

Then - they get to Clemen's Point and there's no one there. No note. Just a quickly dug grave with no name. They realize they're on their own. They're alone, except for each other, no way to find the gang on their own. They're free. They're nobodies enough to slip through Tall Trees. They go back out West. They live happily ever after.

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part IV: colter

originally posted on 8 march 2023

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 14k

summary: you and the others ascend into the mountains with the law hot on your tails. A nasty storm picks up, making matters worse for everyone. You're bed ridden and ill, trying to heal both your physical ailments and your mental ones.

a/n: this chapter is huge, and important! Firstly you all voted and decided that reader should have a nickname given by Arthur that all the gang members call her, and that comes up in this chapter. Plus we get some really good fluff between reader and Arthur. Thank you to margowritesthings for always rising up to the massive chapters I've been throwing at her.

warning: wounds, gore, mentions of past trauma and post traumatic stress

SERIES MASTERPOST

The wind whips through the air, chilling everyone to the point of numbness as you all ascend the mountains in hope of some form of sanctuary. John and Micah are still out scouting ahead, and Arthur’s now been sent out too, in search of a place to hole up. Everyone is hungry, frozen and afraid. Who knows how close the rest of the Pinkertons are, or if they were bold enough to follow you up into this hellstorm. You have no idea how many days you’ve been traveling, two or three? To be fair, it's been hard to keep track in your state. 

Your back is resting against the wooden slats of the wagon, curled up to fend from the whipping blizzard. The canvas on the conestoga-style wagon provides little defense from the storm. With everything going on, the girls are huddled around you, keeping you covered in blankets while fighting your protests. Your skin is icy to the touch, but youre so hot. Cold sweat runs down your forehead, covering you in a sheen. Your eyes are red and sunken in as you shiver and groan. The sewn up shot in your thigh is swollen, red and oozing. It's infected, and if Grimshaw doesn’t get you some help soon… Well, you’ll be on the pile with Jenny and Davey. 

You peel a blanket off of yourself, groaning, mind foggy from your body fighting to stop the infection. You’re so hot, it's torturous. Immediately, Tilly covers you back up with the blanket. 

“Please- I'm so hot.” You moan, whimpering at the throbbing pain that is shooting down your entire left leg. 

“I know, I do, but if you take this off you’ll freeze to death.” Tilly argues, and you know she’s right.

The wind is loud, but even through it you can hear Dutch yelling. He’s driving the wagon with Hosea, and both are praying for some shelter. 

“Arthur! Any luck?” Dutch hollers over the wind, and you perk up at the familiar name. All the girls, wrapped in blankets and coats, huddling around Jack and you, glance in the direction of Dutch. 

“I found a place where we can get some shelter. An old mining town, abandoned. It ain’t far. c’mon!” Arthur yells back before spurring Taima in the direction of your sanctuary. Everyone in the caravan lets out a breath, relieved at any kind of hope. 

The wagon continues on while you fade in and out of consciousness, the fever too much for your body to handle at times. The closer you all creep towards the mining town, the more Grimshaw’s anxiety grows. She doesn’t know if you’re gonna make it much further, but by god she won’t let anything happen to you. They’ve lost too much. The wagon comes to a stop, and you blink your eyes open, watching as everyone files out of the wagon. 

“Miss?”

It’s Dutch, he’s come around to the back of the wagon, extending a hand out to help the women and Jack get into a building. Despite your best efforts, you can’t bring yourself to move. Your muscles strain, but the pile of blankets is too heavy and you’re too weak. 

“I can’t-” You whisper, pissed off that you’re incapable of handling your own at the minute. Asking for help isn’t exactly your specialty, but the cold sweat running down your forehead combined with your heavy, flushed and swollen eyelids prove enough that you’re unwell. 

Dutch places his hand on the floor of the wagon, pushing himself up into the back. He peels the blankets away from you to find your once white shirt from however many days ago drenched in sweat and dried blood. You’re practically gasping for breath, panting in the frozen air, it doesn’t appear that you’re winning the battle against your body. 

“Oh, miss… Here, let’s get you down.” Dutch whispers before taking your arms and helping you to climb down. It hurts like hell, climbing out of the wagon. Every muscle in your body twitches and aches, and the wound in your thigh throbs and oozes, it’s awful. Eventually, with Dutch’s help, you manage to stand in the calf-deep snow. He supports all of your weight, which you’re begrudgingly thankful for. Truthfully, he’s the last person you want help from right now, but without it, you’d be dead in the snow already. Slowly, you both shuffle through the damp, icy snow, trying to ignore the way it soaks your pants and freezes onto your eyelashes. You can see, foggily, the lantern lights of other gang members that are filing into a large, abandoned wooden building. You whimper at the idea of shelter, shuddering and tripping as the frozen air wars with your fever. 

“Almost there..” Dutch whispers to you before yelling towards the building, “Miss Grimshaw, Mister Pearson! We need help!” 

Dutch’s arm is tight around your waist, and the other holds a lantern in the air as he guides you through the door of the building. You’re struggling to stay awake, vision blurring as Dutch guides you to an old, makeshift cot off the main room. The warmth is immediate. There's no fire in the keeper yet, but the protection from the wind alone is noticeable. You’re not sure if you should be thankful for the shelter, or upset that the warmth worsens your fever. A few people rush over, standing around you as he lays you down.

“I am not losing anyone else! You get her patched up. I don't care what it takes!” Dutch hollers, pointing to you for emphasis as he glances at the miserable, frozen faces around the room. 

You hear the slip of a knife, the shred of denim as Susan cuts away the patch of denim from your thigh to get a better view. She makes a noise of distaste, one that worries you. The skin around your stitches is red, and hot to the touch, with pus leaking from the suture holes. You arch your back against the wooden cot, gritting your teeth and groaning as she prods at your leg. 

“We’re gonna have to redo these, I'm afraid, and you need dressings for this once I'm done. Abigail! Bandages!” Grimshaw orders around. You nod, a tear slipping down your cheek. 

“Am I- You think I’m gonna be alright, or…?” Your voice is barely audible, like a breath on the wind. You’re not ready to die, not before you’ve even lived. 

“You’re gonna be just fine.” Grimshaw says with a tight lipped smile, grabbing Strauss’ medical kit once again. She’s lying, both for her sake and your own. She has no idea if you’ll pull through this. Infections are bad, and in these conditions, with no supplies? Well, your chances aren’t good. Jack is quietly crying in the corner, wrapped up in his momma’s arms, and next to his cries you hear large boots thumping against the wood, someone has entered the building. The footfalls grow quicker, rushing into a light jog approaching you. You force your eyelids to part, providing a thin view. 

“Shit, Grimshaw? What’s going on?! She okay?!” Arthur growls, skidding to his knees at your bedside to help. He’s covered in snow, cheeks bright pink from wind whip, and his black hat is covered in a thick white dusting of ice. He’s suddenly more awake than he’s been for the last three or so days, and despite his lack of sleep, there is nothing but clarity and fear on his face when he sees the state you’re in. You look so small on the bed, so frail.

“I’m fine, Arthur.” You whisper, hand snaking down the mattress to rest on top of Arthur’s. Your lie doesn’t faze him at all, and he runs his eyes down your hip and thigh to where Grimshaw is cutting open your stitches, squeezing your hand as he does. Your nose wrinkles at the pressure and pull of Grimmshaw’s hands on your thigh. 

“Mr. Morgan, she needs medicine and she needs it now. Got a bad infection. I’m afraid she can’t wait much longer.” Grimshaw states, looking up to your pale, sickly face. Arthur rests the back of his hand against your forehead, and you grimace, head pounding from everything that's going on. 

“You’re burnin’ up real bad,” Arthur’s stomach turns with anxiety as he glances between your eyes and Grimshaw’s hands, “I’ll find some medicine. I will.” He growls, as if making himself a promise.

You know he may not be able to keep it. It took days to find this place, and he won’t make it far in the storm. John and Micah haven’t returned yet, and the chances of him finding medicine is low. If he leaves now, he might as well sign his death certificate along with yours. 

“No- please don’t go out there, Arthur. The storms too bad.” You protest, hanging onto Arthur’s hand with every bit of strength you have in you, little as it may be. Arthur squeezes your hand, kneeling down to look into your eyes. 

“I'm not just gonna sit around and watch you die. I'm goin’ to find you medicine.” There’s no room for debate in Arthur’s eyes. Begrudgingly, you nod your head, terrified that your illness is going to get more people killed. Once you nod, he leaves go of your hand. You wince, gripping the corner of the cot till your knuckles turn white as Grimshaw pulls the ruined sutures out of your infected thigh.

“I’m going too. Anywhere that has medicine could have food or supplies too. And maybe we’ll run into John or Micah on the road. Who knows where they are in this storm, I just hope they’re okay.” Dutch says, cracking his knuckles through his thick black gloves as he steps over to you. 

You don’t try to protest as they head out the door, and you're thankful for Grimshaw’s stitching, as the pain keeps your mind off the fact that four of the gang members are out in the storm of the century, two are buried outside, and two are missing. 

—

You drift in and out of sleep, eyes fluttering open and closed as the girls take shifts holding cool rags over your forehead, helping you sip cool water and changing your bandages. You have no idea how long you’re out, but at some point you wake up, once again surrounded by the frozen wind. 

“W-what?” You whimper, eyelashes fluttering in the snow as you attempt to come to your senses, despite the pain that radiates through your entire body, and the fog that clouds your mind. There's a solid strength under your knees and your neck that you can't place. But it's warm, soft and strong. The chilly wind feels ethereal, and you want to cover yourself in its blissful coolness that soothes the fire blazing through your body.

“Takin’ you to your cabin. Miss Grimshaw got it fixed up. There's a real bed in there, it’s warmer, be better for you to heal.” A familiar, gruff, voice says. Despite the freezing, howling wind, there is a warmth against your side, radiating and wrapping around you. You want to push away from the heat, already too hot from your fever, but as you weakly pull away it only wraps around you tighter. You're too weak to fully protest, fighting to stay awake as your head becomes light and your senses begin to slip away to darkness again. You succumb to the blackness, and the howling, screaming wind grows further away as you lose yourself to sleep once again. 

— 

A cold, red hand shakes your shoulder lightly, rousing you a little as you groan. 

"Hey… hey can you sit up a little for me? It's Arthur." 

You squint, eyes fluttering open once again. Your surroundings are unfamiliar, a wooden cabin similar to the one you were in previously, but this one is smaller, cozier. You're laying in a real bed now, a decent sized one, with a thick pillow under your head and a heap of faded serape blankets pulled up over your shoulders. 

"Mmmm.." You moan, wincing as your head pounds and your skin boils with a heat that you can't seem to shake. Your hair is soaked through with sweat, and your clothes cling uncomfortably around your body in their wet state. The hand on your shoulder shakes you a little harder now, coaxing you to sit up. 

"I- I don't feel good, Arthur." You whimper, feeling unusually weak and vulnerable, but knowing you're not strong enough to do anything about it, "God, everything hurts and I'm so hot." You whisper, tears forming in your eyes at the unbridled misery that you're feeling. Every bone in your body aches, your muscles twitch and cramp from both a lack of food and the infection and it's miserable. 

"I know… I know, here. I'll make it better, I'll make it go away, just please- sit up for me, alright?" Arthur pleads with you. 

You nod, doing your best to sit up, wincing at the pain it sends through your body. Arthur helps you, placing his hand on your back to help you adjust as you lean up a little and rest your head against the old cracked headboard. 

"Good girl… real good. Here." You finally manage to open your eyes and see Arthur holding a little metal cup up to your lips. It's the one that he keeps in his satchel for coffee, but the smell that's arising from the little silver cup is god awful. You're too weak to fight Arthur's cold hand as he presses the metal cup to your lips, tilting it so that the majority of the liquid slides down your throat. You cough lightly, as some of the medicine travels down the wrong pipe, and Arthur uses his thumb to wipe away the tonic that has dribbled down your chin. After a few coughs, and a whimper of misery, the tonic is all down. 

"You got me medicine…" You mumble, partially a question and partially a statement. You glance up to Arthur with red, bloodshot eyes and see the worry that lines his face. 

"Course I did. I told you I would." Arthur whispers back, placing the metal cup onto the dusty wooden floor. He's kneeling on the hard floor, knees digging uncomfortably into the wood. There's no chairs in the room, but he's not leaving you here alone. 

"Scooch over, I'm comin in. Floors tearin' up these old knees." Arthur chuckles, helping you adjust closer to the wall under the heavy mass of blankets. After he's situated you, leaving just enough space for him to squeeze in, he sits down on the bed. He doesn't bother to kick his boots off, resting his feet up on the lower side of the mattress. 

"There." He whispers, looking after you with concern, although he's less worried now that you've managed to drink down some tonic. 

Your eyes have slipped closed once again, but you aren't sleeping, just resting as your fever has you by the neck. Arthur's body is solid beside you, gentlemanly of course. He brings his black hat down over his eyes in hopes of getting some sleep.

It only takes a few seconds for you both to succumb to sleep. For Arthur, it's the first he's gotten in days. And for you? All you've done is sleep. You'd be irritated with yourself if you weren't too sick to care. Quiet snores and slow breaths pass through the room as the two of you catch up on sleep and heal beside another.

Many things begin to change tonight, shifting the course as they do. The snow turns from a heavy downpour of ice, carried by the raging wind, to a slow sprinkling of fat, light snowflakes. They land on the roof, melting together and dripping chilly water down through the cracks until they splash against the wooden floor just feet away from you and Arthur. The snow and ice outside begins to melt away, just a bit, but it's an improvement from the blizzard.

Your fever breaks, and the red hot blaze that was dragging you closer to the brink of death with its fiery grasps turns to an even, cool temperature. The tonic spreads through your veins, starting the process of mending your leg back together. There will be a scar, a constant reminder of what happened here, but gone will be the pain. As the fever breaks, your sleeping body becomes more aware of the cold, subconsciously wrapping the blankets tighter around your small frame, begging the inanimate comforter to provide you with warmth that it doesn't hold. 

And the last change; the one between you and Arthur. Something settles between you two, like two magnets feeling the first waves of force pulling them together. There's something there. There's hope with Arthur, there's friendship and compassion, companionship, and something more, you both just have to find it. 

Your eyes flicker back and forth beneath their lids as you sleep, mind lost on a world of stars and flowers. The smell of fresh lilies and wildflowers surround you as you laugh, biting into fresh strawberries under the moon in a field of tall grass. The stars shine so brightly that you're sure they could fall out of the sky and land in your lap. The night is young, the world is beautiful. It's familiar, it's safe and it's good.  

…and then you wake up. 

Gone are the lillies, the warm night and the breeze. They are replaced by a cold cabin, by a chilly wind that howls outside and water that drips down from the ceiling. You roll onto your back, looking up to see Arthur still beside you. His hat is still resting over his eyes and nose, protecting him from any distractions that may prevent sleep. Your eyes linger on him for just a moment longer, taking note of the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of his broad shoulders, and his beard that has grown a bit since you've fled Blackwater. You sigh, feeling the residual ache in your thigh. Reaching down, you lift the blankets to peek at the wound. You peel back your bandage some, wincing as you assess the damage.

The red ring around it has gone away, and Grimshaw did a nice job on her stitch work. It no longer oozes, but it's still a messy wound. You sigh out of frustration, fixing the bandage and pulling the blankets back over yourself. With the fever now gone, you've gone from one extreme to the other, shifting from an unbearable heat to a terrible chill, and you can't shake it. After a few moments of your teeth chattering, the solid mass of a man beside you begins to stir.

"You alright over there?" Arthur asks, ever the light sleeper. His voice is deep and gravelly from sleep as he takes his hat off of his eyes and places it onto the floor below. He notices your teeth clacking together, and the light shake of your shoulders as you curl into yourself under the blankets.

"Y-yeah, fevers c-comin' down is all." You stutter, trying to restrain your jaw from shaking in the cold night. 

Arthur leans in towards you to press the back of his hand over your forehead. His hand is so warm, and you lean into his touch, chasing after the heat that never seems to leave his body. He assesses that your fever is gone, and his worry shifts from you dying of infection to you dying of hypothermia. Your skin is like ice as you shiver and writhe under the blankets, searching for any kind of warmth you can grasp onto. 

"Shit, you're freezin'. C'mere." 

Arthur snakes his hands under the blankets, pulling you into the crook of his side so that you're partially laying against him, and partially on top of him. Immediately, his body heat wraps around you, as his hands run up and down your arms to create warmth. You shudder, leaning into him as much as possible to chase after the ever giving fountain of warmth that he gives off. 

"If I'm makin' you uncomfortable, just say the word and I'll move. Just don't want you freezin' is all." Arthur whispers. He tells himself that this is solely to warm you up, that he would do this for any of the girls. But as much as he tries to convince himself, he knows it's a lie. The feeling of your small, cold hands gripping onto his shirt is one he never wants to forget. Having you so close, he knows he'll likely never get this chance again and he wants to soak up every moment. 

"No- no, this is nice." You whisper against him, truthfully. He pulls the blankets over you both, and you're surrounded by his scent under the confines of the blanket. You focus on keeping warm, on getting better, trying not to think about being pressed this close to Arthur. Already you can feel his body defrosting your own, melting away the ice that resides in your fingertips and the chill that shivers up your spine.

You want to distract yourself, to get away from this vulnerable feeling because it's dangerous. You think about what happened with Lenny and Jenny, what happened to the good people who let their guards down and what they lost. You won't allow yourself this, and as soon as you're warm enough, you plan to move back to your side of the bed. He's only in here because there's not enough space in the other cabins anyways, you lie to yourself. 

Desperate for a distraction, you think of a topic to bring up. Arthur's hand running up and down your back is far too consuming and you have to find something else to focus on.

"What happened while you were off lookin' for medicine anyway? You were gone a long while." You whisper against his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart beating against your ear. It's beating a bit quick, and you try not to think about why that is. 

"Well we ran into Micah. He got separated from John and we still haven't found him…" Arthur pauses for a moment, concern tracing his words although he would never admit to worrying over his bastard little brother, "We found a big farm up north from here. Seemed like a good place to look but it was overrun with O'driscolls. They started threatenin' us so we took em out and-" 

You interject Arthur with a furrow in your brows, confused by the mention of a name you haven't heard before. 

"O'driscolls?" You ask, thinking back and deducting that you've not heard of these folks before. 

"Guess you ain't been with us long enough to run into them yet -well we've been out further west than them for a while too- They're another gang, big bunch of cruel bastards run by Colm O'driscoll. He and Dutch go way back in a proper blood feud. Bad business…" Arthur says the last line with a particularly dark edge, and you make a note to ask about it at some point in the future. A breeze shakes the little cabin, and you burrow in tighter against Arthur, shivering lightly. 

"They had a woman holed up in the basement, it was her and her husband's house. I can't imagine what they did to her. We found her husband shot outside, and then Micah got the goddamn house burned down. It was a right mess." Arthur says quietly, lightly shaking his head as if recounting the day with distaste. You rest your chin on his chest, looking up to see the remorse on his face, knowing he is punishing himself for an act he's not responsible for.

"And the woman…? What happened to her?" You inquire, fearing the worst for this girl. If the O'driscolls are as big and nasty a group as Arthur described, then you can only hope that she's okay. 

"We brought her back with us, just till she gets on her feet again… y'know Dutch weren't too happy about finding O'driscolls up in these parts. He wants to hit them first thing in the morning."

You nod, resting your head back on Arthur's chest, glancing up through the cracks of the roof to get an estimate for the time. Your watch, the one you stole off of your current pillow and personal heater, was abandoned in Blackwater. The moon filters through the broken down roof, signaling that it's very early in the morning. You sigh, tracing the moonlight that trickles through until you see a few flickers of light. It's the stars, shining brightly now that the fog of a storm has passed. Arthur is seemingly eyeing them as well, as he speaks. 

"Y’know you're like my little star." Arthur whispers, voice gravelly against your ear. You crane your neck to look up at him, pulling your eyebrows together. He doesn't look down to you, feeling too vulnerable to make eye contact. 

"Everything that's goin' on, all the chaos, and you're still burnin'." His thumb rubs slow circles on your back as he talks. 

"Shinin', bright, beautiful, but'll burn your ass faster than you can blink." Arthur chuckles, not even realizing what he's just said until he feels your breath hitch against his neck. You move your eyes away from the stars to rest your chin on his chest, looking up to him once more. 

"You think I'm beautiful…?" You whisper, trying to hide your smile at Arthur's flustered state. His cheeks turn pink and his jaw falls slack as he stutters and avoids your eyes. 

"I- I didn't mean nothin' by it, I was just- didn't mean to say- I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry-" Arthur rambles, cursing his damn big mouth and his thoughts for getting him in this situation that he's digging himself deeper into. You laugh at Arthur's quick embarrassment and self reprimandation. You move to lay on your back so you can better see the stars, still nuzzled tightly against Arthur, with his arm under your head, and his thumb tracing back and forth over your shoulder.

"Y'know my momma used to call me Star before she passed." You whisper, pushing down the emotions as you think of your sweet mother and her all too early fate. 

Arthur squeezes you just a bit tighter in a show of comfort when he hears your sniffle. He lost his momma at a young age too. No matter how old you get, or how long it's been, the ache is still there. 

"Well I think it's a fittin' nickname for you, considerin' how much time you spend lookin' at em." Arthur smiles, glancing between you lying beside him, cuddled into the crook of his arm, and the twinkling stars that are peeking through the abandoned cabin's splintered roof. 

"Star… I think that's gonna stick." Arthur adds, adjusting himself a little and crossing an ankle over the other at the bottom of the bed. 

"God Arthur, isn't it just beautiful?" You whisper, awestruck by the stunning, shimmering lights in the sky. They peek down through the cabin's cracks, causing your eyes to fill with them and sparkle as well.

"So beautiful…" Arthur whispers, but his eyes are not looking up. No, Arthur's eyes are fixated on you at his side, until he forces them to pull away on account of decency. He pulls you closer to him, savoring every second and cursing himself for being selfish enough to allow himself this moment. 

"You warmer now? Comfortable?" He whispers, so close that you can feel his warm breath on your ear. You try to convince yourself that this is normal, that snuggling tightly in a bed with your best friend is normal. 

"Toasty warm, mister." You reply, looking away from the stars to lay back on Arthur's chest. He holds his hand out in the air, waiting for you to situate yourself before resting it on your back, swallowing thickly at your actions. 

"Try to get some sleep." He says. It takes only minutes for you to slip into slumber. Arthur on the other hand? He doesn't sleep the rest of the night. 

—

"Honey?" A voice calls to you through your sleep. It's far away, beckoning you to join the realm of the living as you come to. 

"Hmm?" You respond, too tired to form a coherent answer. 

"I brought you some bandages, figure those are gonna need to be switched by tonight." 

It's Abigail, and once you realize it's her, you finally perk up. She's standing beside your bed, placing a little roll of fresh bandages on the broken bedside table. You watch her hand release the roll, and notice the little fluttering paper beside it that is being held down by a glass bottle of tonic. 

Arthur is already gone, he's been swept away by Dutch to go raid the O'driscolls. It's a foolish move. The gang is barely on its feet. The miniscule supply of food that had been brought from Blackwater has already dwindled, and while people here starve and freeze to death, Dutch is off with the strongest boys on a merry chase. When Arthur had woken up, only a few hours after he'd held you back to sleep, he had brushed a hair out of your face, pulled the blankets up for you, tucked you in and left you a note on the table. Unfortunately for you, when Arthur left he also took his warmth with him. 

"Abigail? Could you help me get to the main cabin? It's mighty cold in here and I'm afraid my leg ain't lettin' me put much weight on it."

Abigail turns back to you, smiling. 

"Course', c'mere." 

She takes your hands, helping to pull you up to your feet. The weight on your leg aches something fierce, but at least the fever is gone. 

You step towards the little table, eyeing the paper and tonic. You recognize the paper, the texture and torn edges tell you that Arthur has ripped it out of his journal, scribbling to you with his beloved charcoal. 

Star, I've gone after these O'driscolls with some of the boys, should be back by nightfall. Drink the rest of this tonic to keep from getting sick again- Arthur

You pick up the delicate paper, smiling at Arthur's nickname for you. Folding it, you place it in your pocket before reaching for the medicine.

"Star?" Abigail questions, peeking over your shoulder, curious of the note you've been left. 

"Yeah, little nickname Arthur came up with. Well, my momma used to call me Star too. Been a nickname since I was a girl, but I haven't heard it in awhile. It's nice." You explain, grimacing before you drink down the few swigs of tonic that are still left in the dark glass bottle.

The note stays tucked in your pocket as Abigail tosses your arm around her shoulders so that she can take some weight off your leg. 

"Arthur told me about John last night… I can't imagine what you must be goin' through. I'm sorry Abigail. John is tough though, he'll be okay and we will find him." 

Abigail is quiet, nodding her head lightly with a slight wobble to her lip. 

"I hope so, Jack would be- what would he do without John?" 

You know she's projecting a bit, as Jack is surely not the only one who would be lost without John. There's tension in Abigail and Johns relationship, something likely happened before you joined the gang, but it doesn't change that Abigail loves him. No, love isn't conditional like that. 

That's all that is said, all that needs to be said as Abigail helps you to limp outside. Your leg is getting a little stronger but it still hurts like a son of a bitch to fully support yourself, something you'll have to get used to sooner or later because you'll be damned if you have to be helped along everywhere. 

The snow is still thick on the ground, but the heavy downpour of snow and ice has stopped almost completely. Instead, the sun shines, finally having escaped the confines of the clouds. Eventually, after some struggling, you both make it to the main cabin where most of the gang is residing. 

When you push the door open, the relief is immediate. It's much warmer inside, and you notice that someone already has a fire going in the fireplace. 

"Just set me down over here, I'll be fine." You whisper to Abigail, nodding towards an empty bench on the left side of the wall. She gets you situated down on the bench, checking that you're comfortable before heading over towards Jack. 

It's a boring day, and you're frustrated on account of your uselessness. Soft cries can be heard throughout the cabin, of friends and lovers who have lost their other halves. You crane your neck to glance out the broken window, sighing and wincing at the sight of two freshly dug graves that are marked with wooden crosses. The one closer to you, separated only by the cold, foggy glass, is marked with a 'J'.  You've been repressing the emotion, repressing the memory, not allowing yourself to feel or to grieve. For just a moment, your mask slips down and a pain stabs your heart from the loss that you endured just a few days ago. But quickly you pull yourself together, wiping away the unshed tears and forcing yourself to bottle up like you always do.

You need a distraction, a vent to keep your mind busy so that it can't pull you down into the dark thoughts that threaten to eat you alive. You've been sitting here, not busy for far too long and it's starting to eat away at you, slowly creeping into your mind. You need to do something. 

Charles enters the cabin with a pail filled with chunks of meat, and you stand up, putting most of the weight on your right leg as you walk over to him. He sets the pail on a wooden table off the center of the room, next to a decent sized stove. 

"Charles, let me." You say, wiping your hands on your coat before taking in the ingredients in front of you. The pail of meat is fresh, likely just butchered. It appears to be venison, and it'll make a nice, gamey stew. 

He rests against the table, eyeing you up and down quickly before cocking his head, as if unsure. 

“You sure it's good for you to be standing for so long? Why don’t you go sit, its no trouble for me to-” Charles starts to rebuttal before you interrupt him. 

“Please- all I've done since we got here is sit, and I need to do somethin’, I need to keep busy. What's good for me isn't sittin’ down and thinkin’ over all the shit that just happened.” You plead. There is understanding in Charles’ eyes, he knows exactly how you feel. Your eyes then travel to his hand, and you remember that he’d been hurt too. You’d seen the burn on his hand when he and Jenny carried Davey out of the boat. Now it's wrapped in clean gauze, pale against his skin. 

“Sides’, you’re hurt too. What happened to your hand? Looked like a burn when I saw you on the boat...” You whisper, taking the meat out of the bucket and putting it into a pot, even though Charles never explicitly told you that it was okay for you to take over. 

Out of reflex he stretches his hand a little, putting some pressure on the throbbing pain. 

“When that oil barrel got shot I was standing too close, had my hand on a metal rail when everything went up in flames, burned me pretty good, but I’ll be fine.” Charles explains, glancing towards the sound of whimpering sobs. You follow his gaze to a woman you’ve never seen before, presumably Mrs. Adler. She’s wearing nothing but a chemise and a coat, her blonde hair is dirty and her freckled face is red and puffy from her cries that haven’t ceased since arriving. Slowly, you bring your eyes back to Charles, checking inside the stove to make sure the fire was still lit and hot. You poke the burning coals and wood with an iron prod that was sitting beside the stove. 

“Charles when I went in there… everyone was-” You pause, looking around at all the miserable faces in the room, pausing on Jack and deciding to choose your words carefully, “I saw all the people, what the hell happened?” You ask, thinking back to the passengers on the floor, dead, and the ones cowering in the corner. Charles purses his lips as you take the pail of water that he’d brought in earlier and pour it into the pot. Steam rises from the simmering pot, along with the first mouth watering scents of real food.

“Dutch, it's like he lost his mind in there. Once the boat caught on fire, he was gone, he started yelling, he shot a girl in a bad way. I haven’t been with him long but… it was unlike him.” Charles whispers, distaste coloring his face, and a scowl that matches your own. You nod, thinking over the hell that has been the last few weeks. Nothing can really be said about it, what is there to say? The silence is comfortable as you stir the pot. 

“Thank you, Charles. I’ve got this from here, why don’t you go rest, you’ve done plenty.” You thank him, and he dips his head lightly, resting his hand on your shoulder as he steps past you.

The meat simmers in the pot, and the water begins to boil lightly. Amongst your ingredients on the table are a carrot, salted offal, two apples, an onion, rosemary, thyme and a whole lotta rum. It's apparent that Pearson’s priorities were not with grabbing the gang food, but rather fueling his own addictions. You sigh, taking the carrot and pulling your knife out of its sheath. You chop it into slices and add it to the pot, just as you do with the onion and herbs. It's a simple stew, but it's still going to be delicious. The savory aroma begins to fill the room, and soon the hungry bellies of the gang begin to rumble. 

After some more stirring, and some additions of more herbs thrown into the pot, you deem the stew done. There are enough metal bowls on the table for everyone in the room, and you fill them almost halfway. As much as you’d like to hand everyone a  full bowl, there isn’t enough and you need to ration it. The boys will be hungry when they get back, and you make sure there is enough for everyone.

“Alright everyone, stews ready!” You holler, wiping your hands on your coat once more and watching as a huddle of cold faces light up at the mention of warm food. 

Karen and Tilly come up together, arms linked to stay warm. Both are swaddled in coats, and Tilly has a scarf wrapped over her head to protect her ears. 

“It smells so good, this’ll be the first meal any of us have eaten since Blackwater.” Tilly sighs, excited and hungry. Karen nods, taking two bowls, one for her and one for Mary-beth who is reading on a bench by the door. 

“Thanks for cooking, Star!” Marybeth giggles from across the room and your jaw drops with a chuckle. 

“Y'know gossip spreads around this place faster than the goddamn plague.” You laugh. Apparently, Abigail had told the girls about your note from Arthur, and the nickname that he had signed onto the top of the paper. 

You sigh, shaking your head and handing out stew bowls to the people waiting in line. You thank Grimshaw for all her help with her leg as you hand her a bowl. Reverend Swanson, who is mostly unfamiliar to you, mentions that he’d expected you to have coins on your eyes when he’d seen you coming out of the wagon. Miss O’shea takes a bowl with a wicked scowl on her face, and Hosea thanks you, wishing you well with your leg before taking his bowl and resigning back to his cabin. Everyone who is there comes up, except for Abigail because Jack is sleeping in her lap.

Once everyone has gone through you turn around and see that Mrs. Adler hasn’t gotten a bowl. You bite your lip, toying with it while deciding to take some to her. Maybe she’ll want nothing to do with you. Maybe she’ll see your place in this gang as no different than the O’driscolls who took everything from her. But you won’t know until you try. Throwing caution to the wind, to take a bowl in hand and carry it over towards her. Her knees are brought up to her chest, and her arms are wrapped around them as she sobs into herself. Once you are in front of her, you hesitate. She hasn’t noticed you in front of her yet. 

“Mrs? Do you- Are you hungry…?”  You ask, extending the bowl of stew towards her. 

Her head snaps up at you, and the glare she sends your way is ice cold. 

“Could you eat if you were in my situation?” She hisses with a thick Texan accent. You nod your head, pursing your lips as you begin to turn on your heels to head back to the table.

“Take that as a no then…” You mumble under your breath. You only make it a step away before she calls out to you, gripping your wrist and pulling you lightly so that you face her again. 

“I, wait- Im sorry.” She says, feeling regret from pushing you away so rudely just moments ago. 

“Please, sit.” The woman offers, gesturing towards the open area on the bench next to her. You extend the stew out to her, and this time she smiles before you sit next to her. You wince as it pulls at your healing thigh, but the pain is already getting better. Mrs. Adler notices, and then thinks back to when the man that had brought her in, Arthur, had asked for medicine from her cabinet.  

“You were sick when I got here right?” She asks, eyebrows pulling together slightly as she takes a bite of the stew. Her eyes slip closed for a second as she relishes the flavor. Instinctually, you run your hand down to your thigh, tracing over the bandaged wound. 

“Bullet to the leg, I’m afraid… Nasty business.” You all but whisper, once again fighting your memory in an attempt to repress them. Your eyes flicker around the room, and for the first time in a while you see a few smiles. The food has brought some hope.

“Yeah. I'm glad to see you back on your feet then. I… I wasn’t doin’ so well last night. Couldn’t hear much other than my own cryin’, but from what I did hear, you weren’t doing so hot either.”

You’re at a loss for words, not sure whether or not to respond on the matter of her grieving her husband. After a little debating in your head, you decide on the former. If something happened to the love of your life you would probably want to talk about it.

“Mrs. Adler-” You start, but she holds her hand up quickly and interjects.

“Please, call me Sadie.”

“Sadie, I’m sorry for what they’ve done to you. I know how it feels to have someone you love taken from you for nothing other than selfish greed.” You offer, thinking about your Pa. A few tears form in your eyes as you think about him. He was a bastard towards the end of his all too short life, but he was still your Papa.

She smiles, seemingly remembering something, but it falters, and forms into a deep frown with tears rimming her eyes. Watching Sadie remember her husband is like the sun being driven out by a thunderstorm. The good memories flash over her face for a moment before she realizes that they will never be anything but memories. There is no chance for making new ones now. 

“I- we…” Sadie starts, tears dripping silently down her cheeks, falling into her bowl of stew. She can’t find the words to express her heartache, or her gratitude towards you. But how could she? How can one put emotions so vast and contrasting into words?

“Jake and I, our farm-” She starts again, unable to put her grief into words. You place your hand on her knee, and she stops to look up at you.  

“Hey, it's alright. Don't gotta talk about it now, just eat somethin, yeah?” You whisper, hoping that you haven’t made her feel worse. She looks up at you with a nod, and a sincerity. 

“Thank you. You’re the first person who's actually talked to me since I got here. But I guess what could people even say…?” Sadie thanks you, taking another bite of stew. 

“It’s no problem at all, Sadie.” You go to stand, but stop when she speaks once again, embarrassed that she didn’t ask your name. 

“I didn’t catch your name.” She says, and you noticed the tears have stopped trailing down her cheeks. 

“Well,” you chuckle, and tell her your real name, “but the new running nickname is Star, so why don’t you just call me that?” 

“Thank you, Star…” Sadie offers sincerely, before letting you go. You smile at her once more before heading back to the table. Jack is still asleep, and you want to get some soup to Abigail. She hasn’t eaten either, but isn’t going to move the poor kid. He’s so young, too young to be going through all this. You pity Abigail, and how hard it must be for her to explain to her son what's going on. 

Just as you go to grab the bowl off the table, a hand gently touches your elbow. You turn to see who it may be, needing some food or to give you an empty bowl. To your surprise the person in front of you is Lenny. Your jaw falls slack a little, and your eyes start to water before you stop them. You’ve been avoiding him, because what can you even say?

“Lenny…” You whisper, and there is so much pity and heartbreak in your voice that it sounds foreign to your ears.

He smiles at you, as if everything is going to be okay before he pulls you a little aside, away from the ears of others. It’s then that you see the unkempt look about him, his red eyes and the haunting grief that hasn’t left him since those few days ago. 

“You were a good friend to Jenny… and I thank you for that.” Lenny says, glistening tears in his eyes that match your own. You hastily wipe them away, before glancing across the room, out the window to the fresh grave that is haunting you. You haven’t allowed yourself to feel it, to grieve it. You only knew Jenny a short time but in that time she was your friend and she’s gone. It took just a half-second for her life to be erased. Just a moment. If the shot had been off by a foot it would be you in that grave instead of her, and you wonder if it would be better off that way.

“She told me about your plans, about going to Tumbleweed. Lenny, I’m so sorry.” You whimper, asking yourself if Jenny’s death is your fault. They should be in Tumbleweed getting married by now. But Lenny is here with you, with tears in his eyes and a broken heart, and Jenny is buried outside.

“She- that never should have happened.” You pause, thinking over Jenny’s dying wish that she had whispered to you with the last breath of air that ever left her lungs. 

“Jenny asked me to tell her how much she loves you… I was there with her, the whole time until she- until she…” You can’t bring yourself to finish the sentence, but Lenny understands, nodding with a smile that holds so much pain.

“I thank you for that, for staying with her. We dont get many chances for love in this life. Im glad for the time we spent together. God I miss her so much already, my sweet Jenny…” Lenny mutters, before pulling you into a hug. He’s so young, just barely an adult, and he’s already lost so much. The grief in the room is almost unbearable. Everyone has lost something, and yet you're the only one who won’t allow yourself to feel. Every time the emotion bubbles up, you stomp it back down. Lenny’s arms are tight around you in a show of friendship and heartache before he pulls away.

“Thanks for all you did for her, even in the end.”

“She would have done the same for me.” You smile, although there is no joy behind it.  

“I'm sure she would have, miss.” Lenny adds before tipping his head to you and walking out of the room back to his cabin. 

As soon as the door swings back into place, and Lenny’s figure disappears behind it, you let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. A few tears and one quiet sob escape from you, but you quickly put yourself back together, wiping away your tears and avoiding the window that gives view to her grave. Just as you’ve finished collecting yourself, a little hand tugs on the bottom of your coat. When you look down, slightly startled, you see little Jack, cheeks pink from the cold as he looks up to you with tired eyes, despite the sleep he's gotten. He tugs on your coat until you give him your full attention.

“Are you okay? When I was with Mama I saw you crying. Is Lenny okay too?” Jack says, his little high pitched voice a light in the dark. You kneel down onto the ground beside him, ignoring your thigh, and once you're on the ground, he holds on to the lapels of your coat. His little chubby features are so worried. Jack’s too sweet for this life, too innocent.

“Yes, we’re just fine, little mister, I promise.” You chuckle, looking into Jack’s sparkling eyes that haven’t yet lost their childlike wonder. 

“I was meaning to ask since you woke up, you hungry?” You ask, stretching from the ground to grab a bowl of stew from the table at your back. Jack lights up, looking forwards to his first meal in days. 

“Oh yes, please! My tummy has been growling since we got here.” 

You smile, handing him the bowl of stew and leaning your back against the wooden wall, still sitting on the floor. Much to your surprise, Jack settles himself right in your lap, scarfing down the soup as politely as he can. You tense for a moment, not expecting him to have sat in your lap. But after a few seconds you relax, resting back against the wall to let him be comforted, the poor boy just wants to be coddled, which is understandable. 

“You are a very good cook! Better than Mister Pearson!” Jack says, excitedly. His bowl is almost half gone as he uses his sleeve to wipe away the broth dripping down his lip. 

“Well thank you, Jack. Maybe I'll have to cook more often.” You respond. You enjoyed cooking for the gang, even though it's quite different from your usual line of work.

“Oh, please do!”

“Can I call you my aunt?” Jack blurts out, setting his empty bowl on the floor. Abigail overhears her sometimes overbearing son and chuckles knowingly.

“Uh, I- what?” You stutter, at a loss for words. Of everything he could have said, you didn’t expect him to say that. 

“Well there's Uncle Dutch, Uncle Hosea and Uncle Arthur. I have aunt Tilly and aunt Karen… so are you my aunt now too? I asked if I could call Micah my uncle, but papa got mad…” Jack whispers, looking up to you with anticipation for your answer. With a little tap to his cherry red nose you respond.

“Well of course I’ll be your aunt, silly.” You smile at the pure joy radiating from Jack as he squeezes you into the tightest hug his little arms can manage. 

“Okay so you’re my aunt Star!” He yells out, and your jaw drops with a laugh. 

“You too? Has everyone picked this nickname up now?” You chuckle, surprised. 

“Sure have!” Jack responds, cuddling back down into your lap.

—

A few hours later you wake up to yelling. You startle awake, gasping and out of instinct you pull your knife out before your eyes are even fully open. It's a habit you’re working on stopping. When you feel that unfamiliar weight in your lap, you pause to realize Jack is still sitting on you, nuzzled into your coat. He’s still asleep, and by the dark night outside, you presume he won’t be waking up soon. 

“Abigail?” You whisper, not wanting to wake up the boy. 

“I can take him now. Thank you. I didn’t wanna wake you either.” Abigail smiles, coming over from her makeshift bed on a bench. The yelling outside ceases for a moment before it continues again, but it's muffled. Abigail’s eyebrows pull together in worry before she gently picks up her sleeping boy and carries him over to his spot. She settles him down, and you move to stand but the ache in your leg has grown tenfold and is stiff as a board. 

“Goddamnit.” You curse, realizing that you’d neglected to take the tonic that Arthur had left you that morning, and had spent all day walking on the bad leg. The lack of medicine combined with the sudden use has swollen your leg up and made it unbearable to put weight on. 

Simply put, you can’t get up. 

Anxiety suffocates you for a moment as you feel vulnerable and stuck. And yet you’re too proud to ask for help. You desperately want to investigate the noise outside, but you can't even stand on your own two legs. It’s the most frustrated you’ve been in your entire life. With a sigh, you give up, slinking back against the wall. After a while of internal struggle, you begin to drift to sleep again. It seems to be all you can do as of late, but your body is still fighting the latter end of an infection, and has been completely wracked by the trauma you’ve endured. 

Your eyes are heavy, winning the battle as you fight to stay awake. That is until a large boot nudges your own on the ground. 

“Hey you alright? Why you sleepin’ on the floor?” Arthur asks, standing above you. He looks exhausted, dark circles underline his eyes and purple bruises line his fists, which you choose to ignore.

“Just got tired and decided to stay here is all.” You lie, not wanting to ask another favor from Arthur. All he's done is help you, and you have nothing to give him in return. Asking him for more help would be just another debt to the man whom you can’t repay. He eyes you for a moment, hands resting on his gun belt before speaking.

“I'm goin’ back to the cabin. You headin’ over too?” He asks, gesturing towards the door.Your pride will not allow you this, and so you lie again. 

“Yeah, I’ll go over in a few.” 

Arthur chews on his lip, thinking for a moment before he dips his head and turns towards the door. His hands rest in the pockets of his large blue coat as he walks past the array of people who are sleeping, sprawled around the large room. He reaches the door and places his hand on the knob, but he doesn’t open it. With a small chuckle, and a shake of his head, he turns around and struts straight back over to you.

“What?” you ask, raising your eyebrow at the cowboy and pulling your coat tighter around your shoulders. One hand lightly massages the sore, tender flesh of your shot thigh. 

“You can’t get up, can ya?” Arthur asks, all too amused by your scowl. 

“I can get up just fine. Just choosin’ not to…” You mumble, avoiding Arthur’s eye contact. With a sigh, he leans down, wrapping his arm around your waist and helping you to stand. He’s on the same side as your bad leg, and he holds your arm tightly to help you along. 

“I said I was fine-” You hiss, wincing when you take the first step.

“Yeah and I’m a dancin’ girl, now let me help you. C’mon.” Arthur jokes, taking his time to help you across the room. He goes at your pace, and you force yourself not to think about his hand on your waist. Slowly but surely you make it outside, across the road, and into the cabin.

As soon as Arthur sits you down on the bed he sighs. 

“You are so goddamn stubborn, woman, you know that?” He chastises lightly, grabbing the tonic and bandages that you were supposed to use about… twelve hours ago.

“Been told once or twice.” You rebuttal. 

Arthur kneels on the ground in front of the bed, right between your knees to grant him easier access to your wound. He’s careful, slow and patient as he peel back some of the cut denim to take the gauze off of your leg. It’s quiet as he wipes away some old poultice from your wound, apologizing quietly when you wince or tense up. In those moments, when you gasp or tense, his hand immediately leaves your thigh. He doesn’t want to cause you pain. 

“Real good…” Arthur says, putting new bandages in place of the old. He glances up to your eyes every now and again to make sure he’s not hurting you, and there’s something so intimate about it. Him kneeling on the ground between your knees, his hand on your thigh as he helps you to heal makes your heart ache in an unfamiliar way and it’s so overwhelming that you have to look away and change the subject. 

“So… What was all that yellin’ about before you came in?” You ask, referring to the commotion that had woken you up earlier. 

Arthur nods, carefully wrapping the gauze around your thigh. 

“That would be an O’Driscoll.” Arthur says, irritated. 

You have to do a double take to make sure your ears are working. 

“A-an O’Driscoll?! You lot brought an O’Driscoll to the camp where we sleep? Where Jack sleeps??” You bite, eyes wide with shock and confusion. Arthur had just told you last night about this dangerous, cold gang with no morals and a leader that is as sneaky as a serpent. 

“Weren’t my idea, Star, trust me.” Arthur says, seemingly as surprised about it as you. 

“He’s a harmless feller. Dutch wants to question him for information, that’s all.” Arthur adds, trying to ease your upset. 

You nod, accepting his response for what is rather than what should be. One thing about your decision to run with a gang is that you signed up to follow Dutch. You live with his shots, that was your choice. So even though you strongly disapprove of this move, it isn’t your call. 

“Okay…” You whisper. The wind howls loudly in the distance, and as you glance out the window you see the graveyard across the way that you've been desperately trying to avoid. Of course, Arthur notices this. He finishes bandaging your thigh before he speaks up.

“How you feelin’?” He asks, squeezing your knee a little. You know what he’s asking. He’s asking how you’re holding up after everything that you’ve gone through. And yet, you have a feeling that he already knows without you ever having to speak a word. You can’t bring yourself to open up, not even to him. You’ve built walls for a reason and taking them down is hard.

“It hurts, but I'll be fine. Grimshaw says the infections already gone down, just gotta keep it that way now..” You say, feigning ignorance to the depth behind Arthur’s question.

You rub at the tender skin around the gun wound in an attempt to ease the ache. By the look on Arthur’s face, he’s not fooled, and you frown deeply, avoiding his gaze. To your surprise, he stands up and sits on the bed beside you. Even as you avoid his eye contact, you can feel him staring at you. When you refuse to look at him, afraid that the tears will  start falling, he places his index finger under your chin and pulls your gaze to his own.

“Star…you ain’t gotta lie to me, y’know. Not with me.” He whispers. 

Your eyes flutter shut and you try your damndest to hold it in, but a single tear falls down your cheek, and your lip quivers. The conversation with Lenny today was almost too much. It brought back every memory of Blackwater that you had been trying so hard to repress. Arthur wipes the sole tear away with his thumb, smearing it across your cheek before taking both your hands and placing them in his own.

“You’re tough. You’re strong for everyone around you, and you’ve always got this damn wall up. You’re-” Arthur pauses for a second, looking down to his lap in thought before looking back up.

“You’re my friend. You ain’t gotta hide around me, alright?” He whispers, bright green eyes looking straight through your tough facade and boring into your soul.

The tears just start falling and you can’t stop them. For the first time in your adult life, you don’t try to. You bring your hands away from Arthur’s, and up to your face as you sob into your palms. Immediately, Arthur pulls your hands away from your face and wraps his arms around your small frame, swaying you gently on the bed and shushing you. You cling to his blue coat with every bit of strength you have, dampening the wool as you cry.

“I- I can’t believe they’re gone, Arthur.” You sob. All of the passengers that died on the boat, then Sean, Davey and Mac, possibly John. Jenny and Boadicea…You gasp for air, lungs shaking as you release all the emotions that have been building up for far too long. 

“I know, I know…” Arthur whispers into your hair, running his hand up and down your back to comfort you. You’ve not been looked after like this in a long time. It's nice to know you have someone to bear your soul too, but right now all you can think of is the ones you lost. 

“Jenny- Jenny was my friend!” You half cry, half gasp into Arthur’s coat, clenching your fists so tight onto his coat that your hands are on the verge of shattering.

“She was- she was talkin’ to me about Lenny. They was- They were gonna-” You sob, hiccuping and snotting against him. It's not an aesthetic visual, but it's raw.

“I know sweetheart, I know they was, c’mere.” He mumbles, pulling you against his chest to hold you even tighter. 

You don’t correct him for the pet name like you did in Tumbleweed. Maybe you’re too emotionally drained to care, maybe you don’t mind it. Your sobs turn to cries, that turn to whimpers, until after a long while of crying, you're just breathing against Arthur’s chest. His grip on you hasn’t let up, but neither of you have said anything, just swaying and shushing. Your eyes begin to feel heavy again, but you push out one last whisper before they close. 

“Arthur… I'm so sorry about Boadicea…”

Arthur sucks in a deep breath, fighting the emotion that bubbles up from the mention of his former horse. 

“That wasn’t your fault. You hear me? That’s not on you.” He growls, holding you even tighter. His heart breaks to know that you’ve been carrying that weight. None of this is your fault. 

Before long, you’re asleep in his arms. Even after he hears your breathing settle, and the light snores that you make, he doesn't go. He rests his back against the wooden wall and falls asleep with you in his arms. He can’t bring himself to let go of you, even for a second. Terrified that you’ll disappear from his arms or feel the need to close yourself off or be alone again. Because you're not alone, not anymore.

—

You wake up slowly. Underneath you is a slow rise and fall, accompanied by light snoring. You smile warmly before even opening your eyes. Arthur’s arms are still wrapped around your waist tightly.

When your eyes open, you are met with Arthur’s sleeping face. His eyes are peacefully shut, and his lips are parted to allow his little snores to fall from his lips. Besides his absolutely killer morning breath, he looks as snug as a bug. You chuckle, slowly prying yourself from his grip, trying not to wake him. He needs the sleep. You crawl over him, yelping as he snores particularly loudly, shaking you with his rumbles. Eventually you make it out of the bed alive. Arthur is still sleeping, and you pull the blankets up over him.

You want to leave him a note, and pull your leather bound journal out of your satchel. You haven’t opened it since everything went to shit, and you run your hand over the cover before flipping through the pages. The last entry was from a few weeks ago, the night that you had laid under the stars and picked wildflowers. Before venturing out you had written about meeting Jenny. It was also the same day Arthur bought his journal. Oh, how quickly things change. 

You eye your last entry for a moment before turning the page, and tearing the next section out. You take your pencil and scribble onto the paper before setting it on the table next to Arthur’s hat. You go to sign your name at the bottom, signing the first letter before pausing for a moment and changing it.

Thank you for last night, really. -Star

It's short and sweet. Once it’s secured on the table, you glance back at Arthur one more time before heading to the door. Maybe it’s from the tender care he had shown you yesterday, or maybe it’s coincidence, but your leg feels much better today. You’re confident enough to head to the main cabin yourself. Your thigh is sore, but not the burning pain that had torn through you yesterday. You walk past the stables, glancing in pity towards the wails of the O’Driscoll being held captive. Some of the snow has melted from the sun, which you're grateful for, as it’s easier to navigate across the road. Still it takes you a bit longer than usual, and you curse whatever may be out there that you’re stuck in this position. 

Before you’ve even breached the door, you can hear the arguing, the crying. God, what now? The gang seems to be falling apart at the seams and everyone is shattering. Once you pull open the door, the muffled voices become clear. 

“Dutch van der Linde, it has been two days! He ain’t been seen in two days!” Abigail yells, storming after Dutch who is glaring at a very worried Hosea.

“Abigail, your John is just fine. Lost in the storm, he's probably on his way back from wherever he is right now.” Dutch rebuttals, causing Hosea to grow irritated. 

“The girl is right, Dutch. He could very well be dead out there. We barely survived here and we have walls, who knows where the poor boy ended up.” Hosea states, worried over the state of the closest relationship he’ll ever have to a son. Dutch turns, glaring daggers at Hosea, but he's met with a glare just as strong. 

“I’ll go get him.” You state, and all eyes in the room shift to you. Abigail practically whimpers, uttering out her thanks as you pull your coat back over your shoulders. Hosea steps forward, a look of pity on his face. 

“Dear girl, your leg… You’re barely back on your feet, you can’t venture into this mess.” Hosea says, gesturing to the freshly wrapped bandages around your thigh.

You pull your revolver out of its holster, squinting and looking down the barrel to make sure it's clean and fully loaded before you reholster it. 

“I have to. For Jack, for Abigail. If he's out there I gotta find him. Sides’ my leg is fine, really.” It’s a bit of a white lie that your leg is fine, but you need to find John. 

“I’ll bring him back, Abigail. I will.” You promise, hugging her tightly before heading towards the door.

“Estrella! I'm coming too.” Javier calls out, pulling a patterned poncho over his coat and grabbing a sawed off shotgun from his items. You nod, chuckling as Javier approaches.

“Estrella? I even wanna know what that means?” You laugh, gearing up with Javier. 

“It’s nothing,” he laughs, “You think we can handle this? Just the two of us?” Javier asks, holstering his gun before holding the door for you. You walk towards the barn while you think. You’re not even sure who to ask, but you’re not waking Arthur up, he needs the sleep. You chew on your lip for a second, thinking it over before you come to a decision.

“Yeah, just us. We can handle it.”

When you push the barn doors open, you see Charles, sitting in a wooden chair about ten feet in front of the tied up O’driscoll. He’s sharpening a knife, barely paying attention to the smaller man’s cries. 

You dip your head to Charles in greeting before going through the open stalls. Boadicea isnt here, and it causes that dull ache to grow a little stronger. You do see however, right next to your still unnamed buckskin, an unfamiliar horse. 

“Where’d this guy come from?” You ask, petting the skittish tobiano. 

“Oh. Arthur found him when they raided those O’Driscolls. He’s keeping him for now.” Javier says before grabbing the reins to his paint, Boaz. He leads the stallion outside, and you grab the buckskin to chase after him. 

“Can you track?” Javier asks, mounting up on Boaz in time with you. He starts off at a trot, leading you towards the main road. 

“Yeah, my Pa taught me when I was just a girl. If he was through, I’ll see. I just hope his tracks aren’t covered with snow…” You say, retaining hope that John is alive and well. 

“Good. we’ll go back to the main road, try to find where he broke off.”  Javier calls back to you, pushing Boaz into a canter. You run after him, pulling your coat up over your nose to protect it from the cold. 

You cut across the river, and it isn’t long before you find a few sets of tracks. 

“Hey is John’s horse shod?” You yell up to Javier, who chuckles. 

“No. That horse is the most sure-footed bastard you’ll ever ride. Carajo, he’s more like a mule than a horse.” Javier jokes. One set of hoof tracks resembles a shod horse, and one an unshod, so you start following the latter trail. 

“It cuts across the crick here.” You yell, running across the little creek and picking up the trail on the other side. Javier and Boaz fall behind you, following as you lead the way. 

After following the trail for a bit, you come upon a gorge. It causes your limbs to tingle with anxiety, and you try not to look down and see how deep it goes. 

“Shit, be careful. There's a hell of a drop here.” You say, navigating your horse around the fault. John was more reckless, his tracks prove that his horse cantered around the gorge, cutting deep as if running from something. After some more following, splatters and drips of blood are evident against the crisp white snow. 

“Javier…” You whisper, following the trail that shows evidence of the horse spooking, and jumping around, like there was a fight. More blood is spilled in the snow the further you travel along. 

“I see it too…” He whispers, and both of you are less sure that John is okay.

“Oh no.” You mutter under your breath as a large body comes into view. You gallop towards it, sliding your buckskin into a stop as you jump down. 

“It’s John’s horse. He must have went on foot from here.” You say, glancing between the initials “JM” that have been tooled into the leather, and the disappearing trail of footprints in front of you.

You take in the poor horse before jumping onto your own. It was brought down and partially eaten by something, either a bear or a wolf, most likely the latter. 

“His tracks disappear, but we gotta keep goin’!” You holler over the wind. The cold is almost unbearable as you ascend higher up the mountains, and the snow grows deeper, making it harder for the horses to climb. 

“Estrella, the horses are getting tired.” Javier calls up, unsure of when to stop following the lost trail. 

You feel your horse’s gait getting sluggish, and feel his breaths become hot and heavy. 

“So we’ll go on foot.” You rebuttal, refusing to give up just yet. 

After cantering to the top of the hill, you hop down, grabbing a springfield rifle and enough ammo to kill whatever may be prowling. 

“JOHN!!” You scream into the wind, receiving no reply except your own echo and the whipping wind. You can barely stand the wind, but you push on anyway. 

“I don’t- we dont even know he’s up here.” Javier tries to reason, but you continue to walk away, sliding down a small slope before coming to a ridge that youll have to jump up to. Its taller than you, and you sigh in frustration. Javier notices your hesitation, and he jumps up, grabbing the rock platform and pulling himself up before extending his hand down to you. 

"I'll help you, come on." He calls down and you hesitate to take his hand, a scowl formin on your lips. 

"I don't need your help." You hiss, knowing fully that you absolutely do need his help. The platform is way taller than you. 

"Easy there tigra, I'm just trying to help." Javier placates, and you feel bad for snapping at him. You jump up as high as you can manage, gripping onto his hand and allowing him to pull you up by your arms. 

"I'm sorry. Just tired of sittin' down and askin' for help all the t-time." You explain, standing up and dusting the snow off your legs while shivering heavily.  

"I understand that." Javier smiles, leading you towards a crack in between the rocks. It's big enough for you to walk through, and you squeeze in, feeling both frozen to death and terrified by the altitude you’re at. Javier is quick to slip in after you, noticing the chills that wrack your body.

“Here this should warm you up.” He extends a bottle of bourbon out to you. The cap is already popped off, and you down a swig before handing it back. The bourbon burns down your throat, warming you as it does. 

“Thanks.”

Just as Javier takes the bottle back, you hear a voice. You can't make out what it says, but it's raspy and familiar. You and Javier share a glance before you start running to the other side of the tunnel.

"John!! Keep talkin' so we can follow your voice!" You beg, jogging after the initial sound. 

"Help!" John yells, and you dart to the left in the snow until you come upon a dip. Your leg aches, but it doesn't matter. This is too important. You run to the edge of the little cliff and look down. 

Down the cliff, John looks up at you, frozen and exhausted. There are bloody gashes in his face, markers of a wolf attack. Blood trickles down his chin, staining the snow white. Really, it's a miracle he didn't bleed to death.

"John, you look like shit." You say before whistling to the horses. Javier is only a few steps behind you, and he hops down into the hole. John groans in pain as Javier tosses him over his shoulder. 

"Good to see you both too." John says with a small laugh despite his bleak situation. 

"Brother, we were worried about you." Javier says, waiting as Boaz canters up the hill alongside your buckskin. 

Once the horses reach you, Javier helps John mount up behind his saddle. You both get on and start cantering down the hill towards Colter. 

"Your woman's been worried sick about you, y'know." You holler over the wind towards John who looks far too close to sleep for your liking. 

"Oh there will be hell to pay when I get back." 

The three of you grow quiet, too concerned with getting John back to really chat. You make it about halfway, pushing the horses as hard as you can through the snow before you hear them. 

Howls sound out from the top of the mountain, and you whip around on your horse to see five snow white wolves running down the bank towards you.

"Shit, John looks like your buddies came back to finish their meal!" You yell, pulling your rifle from the holster on your saddle. You flip the safety off, load a bullet into the chamber, aim right for the closest wolf's chest and fire. 

The first wolf goes down, and as the shot rings out, the other four falter for a moment before returning to their chase. 

You aim for the next closest wolf, but right as you squeeze the trigger, your buckskin trips on a rock hidden under the snow and you miss. The horses are galloping so fast down the mountain, and turning around makes it difficult to aim. The wolves are getting far too close for your liking, and anxiety causes you to have tunnel vision. 

You take a deep breath, and as you exhale time seems to slow down. You aim, squeezing the trigger four times and taking down all four wolves. When the last one hits the ground, your vision returns to normal and time seems to resume. 

"Fine shootin, lady." John says as you come out of your trance. It's unlike anything you've ever experienced before, and you have to shake your head. 

"Thanks." You say, tossing your rifle strap over your shoulder and spurring your horse across the river. 

Colter has come into view now, and you see the few people loading up wagons outside. So we're leaving then? 

You slow down your horses, coming into the town. 

"We need help!" You call out, dismounting and jogging to Javier's horse. 

Abigail runs out the main cabin door, and the relief that washes over her face is clear as day. But as she takes in his poor state, it is replaced by concern.

"John Marston where in the hell have you been?!" She yells, rushing over to where Javier is lifting John down. 

"Oh you know, up on the mountains gettin' eaten by damn wolves. I missed you too, dear." John jokes, wincing as they carry him inside. 

You are left alone outside the cabin, and you take the horses by their reins and lead them the a hitching post. After tying their reins up, you offer both horses an outtake from your satchel, which they greedily accept. 

Just as you're about to head back to the main cabin, the door swings open. 

"Why didn't you wake me up? I was worried sick." Arthur says, walking hastily towards you before, to your surprise, wrapping you in a hug. It lasts only a few moments, and you exhale, releasing the day's tension as he hugs you. When he lets you go, he leans down to inspect your thigh. 

"You okay? It hurt? You shoulda got me up, that was a dangerous trip." Arthur says, worry evident on his face. You raise one eyebrow at him, giggling at his 'mother hen’ state.

"Haven't you learned that I can handle my own yet, Arthur?" You ask, a little offended that he's suggesting you needed help. You know he means nothing by it, but still. 

"Oh, I know, trust me I do. But you shouldn't have to do everything alone."

The air grows too serious for your comfort, and you nod towards the main cabin before heading over to the door. Arthur is by your side as you open the door. 

"Further East?" Uncle says, getting up out of his chair, "Why don't we just run down to the city and turn ourselves in?  How you mean we're going further east?" 

"The west is blocked off, we have no choice! We go east, lay low for a little while. We can hide out and lick our wounds. And then my friends, once they have long forgotten our troop, we seek absolution out west, as far as we can go." Dutch says, addressing everyone in the middle of the room. 

You and Arthur give each other a look, not too sure about heading further east. Hosea steps up beside Dutch and looks around at his family. 

"I don't like it, but he's right. We have nowhere else to go." Hosea adds. 

"And where will we go? Do we have a spot picked out? Twenty people ain't exactly easy to hide, Hosea." Tilly points out, and as you look around the room, everyone seems to be at a loss. 

"I don't know, dear girl. We'll find it when we come across it I suppose…  

An idea sparks in your head, and you step forward from Arthur a bit.

"Actually I may know a place." You interject, and everyone's eyes land on you. 

"My daddy was a gunsmith, and every year he took us to this trade fair in Valentine. It's just down the mountain." You say, and Hosea nods, thinking. 

"Valentine… I know it, little livestock town, our kinda place." Hosea thinks out loud.

"Just off the town is an open space, hidden in the woods that overlooks the valley. It's well hidden and big enough for all of us. We used to set up camp there every year when I was a girl. 

"And it's safe? Well hidden?" Arthur asks,  stepping up towards you. You nod, craning your neck to look at him. 

"Yeah. There's trees around all sides except for the overlook. Plenty of good spots for lookouts, it's not too close to the road. And we'll have a pretty view too." 

"And this place, it have a name?" Dutch asks,  stepping forward.  

"Horseshoe Overlook." 

Dutch and Hosea share a look, thinking it over, before Hosea comes forward and places a hand on your shoulder. 

"Thank you miss- what are they callin' you now? Star?" Hosea cuts himself off. 

"Apparently." You chuckle, quickly glancing back to Arthur. 

"Well it's fitting. You're a bright girl, my dear and you may have just saved our sorry asses." Hosea pats your shoulder for good measure before turning to the rest of the room.

"As soon as Johns back on his feet we are heading out!" 

You sink back beside Arthur, looking up at him for a few moments. He knows that look. You're worried. Here you all are, heading towards yet another unknown, another situation that may hold death for everyone. But Arthur will be by your side through it all. And if even just for a little while… that makes it all okay.

[duhragonball]

Neon Genesis Evangelion 13

I was looking forward to this, because it was a Ritsuko episode, but it kind of falls flat. At least she's nice to look at.

Let's get this part out of the way. The Eva pilot kids are participating in some weird experiment where they have to sit in simulations of their Eva units and they gotta be butt-ass naked the entire time. Ritsuko says some bullshit about how they're trying to eliminate any interference in their bodies' connection to the user-interface. So they had to get super-clean and I guess even wearing the plugsuits would introduce unknown variables to the experiment.

I mean, the real reason is to do another gag where the kids are made to feel uncomfortable for the audience's amusement. It's also to write them out of the story, because they'll spend the whole episode stuck inside their entry plugs, unable to leave because of an evacuation order and their nudity.

However, the experiment has to be aborted when some sort of unknown corrosion occurs and contaminants enter the purified water that the Eva simulators are soaking in. All efforts to remove the contamination fail, and when Ritsuko tries to burn it off the simulators, its protected by an AT field, which means...

It's an Angel. I'm not clear on whether it's been inside the NERV base for a long time, and it's only now just making its move, or whether it just got here. But check this out first.

While Admiral Clownshoes gets the report from Ritsuko, Gendo Ikari just rises up from the floor like Cody Rhodes on his magic stage elevator.

Except it looks like his lower body has been cropped off. I think he's supposed to be sitting at a desk that's rising up with him, but it's the same color as the wall, so it looks really, really bad.

Gendo immediately orders that the Evas should be launched. The real ones, not the simulators. His staff point out that they'll need the Evas to defeat the Angel that's infiltrated their base, but Gendo is worried that the Evas might be compromised by the contamination. At least this way, if they lose the base, the Evas will be safe outside.

As for the pilots, they were already ejected from the simulators when the crisis began. Here, let me skip to the end real quick.

Those are their entry plugs, which are just... floating in a lake for some reason? The kids spend the rest of the episode here. I guess they could climb out and swim to shore, but...

... they're nude, and also they have no idea what's going on, or that their Evas are also outside the base. I guess in theory they could mount up and fight the Angel as usual, but this isn't your typical Angel.

It's more like a microbial infection, or an algal bloom. Somehow, it's evolving, becoming hardier and more powerful as it makes its way through the base. Briefly, the gang notice that it might have an aversion to the ozone they use to sterilize the water, so they pump more ozone into try to kill it. That works... for a little while, until the Angel suddenly recovers and flourishes in the ozone-rich environment. It adapted to its new conditions.

I think when it made contact with Rei's Eva simulator, it learned... computers? I don't know a more sophisticated way to say that. Anyway, once that happened, the Angel started moving through NERV's... computer... stuff. Eventually it got into the MAGI.

All right, let's talk about the MAGI. These are a trio of supercomputers that run all of Tokyo-3. In particular, the MAGI function as the main OS for the NERV base, but they also serve as the de facto municipal government of the city. They have elections and human officials, but that's just a dog and pony show. The real decisions are made by AI.

When the Angel infects one of the three MAGI, Melchior, it attempts to trigger a self-destruct command, but the other two MAGI overrule it. So the Angel infects a second MAGI, Belshazzar, and Ritsuko manages to halt its advance by... well, I don't actually know how she does it.

This gives them two hours to figure out how to deal with this. Misato proposes destroying the MAGI before it's too late, but Ritsuko objects, since that would mean destroying their entire base. I don't know if she means that literally or metaphorically. I mean, the Angel is trying to destroy the base literally, so it sounds like Misato's plan would just be giving the Angel what it wants.

The problem is that the Angel keeps evolving to cope with any threat, so if they can't destroy the MAGI, then the only other alternative is to accelerate its evolution until it reaches a dead end. Uh, okay?

Eventually, the Angel might "choose to co-exist with the MAGI system", if its only alternative is to stagnate and die. I feel like we're making a lot of assumptions about what the Angel is and what its motivations are.

I just assumed these things are sentient life forms, an their attacks on NERV were deliberate acts against an enemy. This particular Angel infiltrated their base and immediately went into the heart of their operation--the computer that controls everything-- and tried to activate a self-destruct mechanism. It's not trying to communicate, and it's not an emergent consciousness. It seems to know exactly what's its doing, and it's trying to kill them, just like the last several Angels that made a beeline for this base.

My point here is that I don't think it has a strong survival instinct beyond completing its mission. Given the choice between co-existing with the MAGI and mutually assured destruction, I think the Angel would choose the latter. But maybe I've been misreading these things all along.

Ritsuko's proposal is to reprogram the third MAGI, Casper to... I don't even know. She's going to do something to it. Then they'll allow the Angel to contaminate that MAGI as well, and whichever one is faster will win. If the Angel can take control of all three MAGI, it can trigger the self-destruct, so unless Casper wins, they all die.

So Ritsuko crawls inside of Casper's... uh... computer junk, to make the necessary changes to its program. Inside, they find a bunch of handwritten developer notes, which supposedly will help them reprogram this thing even faster. Wouldn't these notes have been more helpful on the outside of the computer? I get that they were going for a particular visual here, but I'm really having a hard time keeping up.

While Ritsuko works, Misato asks her about the MAGI, which... okay, this is a huge pet peeve of mine, where I'm trying to fix some complicated piece of equipment, and someone tries to make idle conversation while I need to concentrate on what I'm doing. And this is a hundred times worse than that, because Ritsuko's on the clock, and when the clock runs out, they all die.

But Ritsuko plays along, so either she's just that good at multi-tasking, or she's too polite to object. Anyway, her mother was the one who invented the MAGI technology, and she imprinted her own personality into its systems. Ritsuko says her mom set them up to represent three aspects of her personality: Scientists, mother, and woman. Ritsuko always respected her mother as a scientist, and she could never relate to her as a mother, but she hated her as a woman. Okay?

Basically, Ritsuko didn't like her mom much, but she feels a special connection with the MAGI anyway, because they carry her mother's personality and legacy. It's a lot like the deal with Misato and her dad, or Shinji with his dad. Is this a theme, or did the writers just only have the one idea?

It's a good thing Ritsuko is so hot, or this episode would be a total mess. She does whatever she does, and it works, but with less than a second to spare. The Angel is... gone? They don't really get into that, but it doesn't explode like all the others, and the contamination is eliminated, so I don't know what exactly happened to it. Maybe it really is co-existing with the MAGI system.

Oh, wow, I'm out of episode. This was the pits.

A huge chunk of this one was just technobabble, which works pretty well on a show like Star Trek: The Next Generation, but not on an anime like this, which relies on flashy visuals instead of live actors. The problem is fairly simple: An Angel got in their base and tried to hack the supercomputer. But the solution is utter gobbledygook. I have no idea what they did to fix it, or even whether the Angel was alive or dead afterward.

I'm reminded a lot of the TNG episode "Final Mission". It's about Wesley Crusher's last day on the Enterprise before he goes to Starfleet Academy, and he, Captain Picard, and a dirtbag shuttle pilot get marooned on a desert planet. Picard is injured and the pilot gets killed, so it's up to Wesley to save Picard from some weird energy sentry that's preventing them from getting fresh water. Wesley figures it out, but the climax of the episode is just him tapping buttons on his tricorder until the sentry finally just... goes away.

It's a real letdown, because the rest of the episode was really good. The problem is that normally when they solve a problem on Star Trek, you have one of the crew explain the solution to the others, and they mull it over and eventually agree to a plan. But in "Final Mission", Wesley's got no one to talk to. Picard's unconscious and Dirgo's dead, and the Enterprise hasn't found them yet. So he's stuck in the unfortunate position of having to come up with this clever solution with his tricorder, but never getting the chance to tell anyone how he did it.

A good counterexample to this is "The Enemy", where Geordi La Forge is marooned on a planet with a hostile Romulan, and they have to work together to track a homing beacon to escape. It's much more effective, because it's two characters in a collaboration, so they have to explain what they're doing. Geordi has a tricorder and his VISOR, but the planet's environment has messed up his brain to where he can't use the VISOR, and his tricorder isn't sensitive to the beacon. So the Romulan suggests he connect them together. Good idea, but Geordi can't do it because he can't see, so the Romulan does it while Geordi talks him through the procedure.

That's not what we get in NGE 13. The Angel contaminates the base, and you have a lot of panicky dialogue and characters giving status updates and issuing orders, but none of it means anything.

"Reroute the main server into the backup neurohub!" "Disengage Pipe #6!" "It's entered the Matthew vinculum! Heading for Mark, now Luke! Isolate the John vinculum, quickly!" "Execute protocols A, F, and 37." "Shut off the frammistat and bring the Longius Introspection online." "But sir...!" "To hell with the safety checks, there's no time!"

You can kind of get away with this stuff, but there has to be a balance. Technobabble is for aesthetic purposes, to establish that it's science fiction. At some point you gotta come up for air and fill in your audience on the stakes. Let them know what the problem is and what obstacles the characters need to overcome to fix it. Otherwise you're just showing people typing on computers until the alarms switch off.

The biggest gripe I have with this episode is that Ritsuko's plan worked perfectly. There was zero tension or conflict to any of it. The alternative--destroying the MAGI, as Misato proposed-- was apparently so unthinkable that it barely got any traction. So Ritsuko's plan was the only option. Ritsuko herself had no problem implementing the plan. It would have been nice if she felt some sort of inner turmoil over this. Like, maybe she could have been worried that she wasn't good enough to pull this off. Maybe she had some unpleasant memory of her mother inside Casper's inner workings, so she just has an aversion to crawling back inside. Anything, as long as it's more than just sitting inside a computer and typing on another computer.

Well, at least she looks good doing it.

[lancedoncrimsonwings]

Augusnippets Day 18

Path of Whumperless Whump + Comfort Prompt; "Infection" + "Singing" + "Feverish Caretaking" Part 3

Day 18 of @augusnippets August 2024 Whump writing challenge! (Augusnippets Masterlist)

Characters;

- POV/Caretaker: Gawain - The Green Knight

- Lancelot - The Weeping Monk

(Character Masterlist)

(Ao3 Link)

Wordcount; 752

TWs; feverish caretaking, infection, fever.

Continuation of Day 5 & Day 9

Gawain hummed softly as he tied off the last bandage across Lancelot's back, the source of his fever evident from the troublesome infection raging within several of the lashings there. For the last three days, Lancelot had lain here, battling, Gawain ever at his side.

The fever had yet to break, but Gawain knew it in his heart that it must soon; either Lancelot would succumb to this infection or he would defeat it, and the precipice of which would win out was fast approaching. Lancelot's body shuddered and quaked, the heat pouring off of him had long since caused Gawain to shed his tunic down to his undershirt and even then he still sweat profusely- though not nearly as much as Lancelot, who's drenched skin glinted in the candlelight.

"Come on, Ashman. Are you going to let a little fever beat you?"

Lancelot had fought far worse than this. And yet... Gawain couldn't help the fear that he'd been sick too long now, that it wasn't getting better. The lingering scent of sickness had grown more sinister as of the past day, now more akin to the scent of death, clinging to Lancelot like a malevolent cloud.

"I remember when Nimue was but a young girl," Gawain began, soaking the cloth again and perching on the bed next to him. "She had a fever for three days. 'Twas not long before I left Dewdenn, but I remember how she shook."

Lancelot trembled beneath his touch.

"Lenore would sing to Nimue, you know, as she slept," Gawain wiped Lancelot's brow, watching his heartbeat as it pounded furiously in his neck which alongside his ever laboured breathing had done naught but worsen over time.

"Told me that was a part of the healing, these songs. Lenore taught me them, though I suppose I've never had cause to try before..."

Gawain took a deep breath, willing the Fingers of Airimid to rise to the surface. They came willingly, swarming beneath his skin like they could feel what he was about to do. Carefully, Gawain splayed his hands over Lancelot's chest and shoulder, watching as a vine seemed to creep into Lancelot's skin, a golden leaf shimmering up over the Ashman's collarbone.

"Gang ût, nesso," The words were like invoking a distant memory as he closed his eyes and began to sing. "mid nigun nessiklînon..."

He could feel it like a steady drain of his own strength as the spell began to form. Undeterred, he sung;

"Gang ût, nesso, mid nigun nessiklînon,

Ût fana themo margę an that bên,

Fan themo bêne an that flêsg,

Ût fan themo flêsgke an thia hûd,

Ût fan thera hud an thesa strâla...

...Drohtin, uuerthe sô!"

Again did he sing the verses, over and over, until dawn had begun to break on what was now the start of the fourth day.

"Arawn uuerthe sô." Gawain whispered, falling silent, feeling the fingers of Airimid recede as they settled down once more beneath his skin. He opened his eyes to a wave of exhaustion that washed over him, quite remarkably tired now.

With a glance at Lancelot he could see those harsh lines of discomfort had faded away, his breathing was deep and calm, the vein still throbbed in his neck but his heartbeat had slowed too, strong and steady it beat.

It took Gawain a solid moment to realise what else had changed.

No longer did waves of heat radiate from the Ashman, like the rest of him, it had soothed.

His fever had finally broken.

"Thank Arawn..." Gawain whispered, half to himself, daring to try to stand from the bed now and finding his legs had turned to jelly as he quickly thumped back down into his chair.

"g-Gawain?"

Lancelot's voice was weary and hoarse, and his eyes were bloodshot as he blinked blearily up at him.

"Morning, sleepyhead," Gawain hummed, with an affectionate smile. "Did you have a nice nap?"

Lancelot grimaced, wiping his hand over his face and raising a wry eyebrow towards him.

"...no. No, I did not," came the fairly understandable reply.

"How are you feeling?" Gawain grabbed his own waterskin from the side, passing it over to the Ashman, who was attempting to sit up, Gawain aided him with a steadying hand on his shoulder.

"Ugh... Like I pissed off Goliath... and he stomped all over me." Lancelot replied, accepting the water with a grateful smile. He took a deep swig, throat bobbing as he swallowed.

"So, better, then?"

Lancelot chuckled lightly.

"A little."

I sorta ran out of time to edit this one down any further, whoops. What started off this morning as a 75 word idea spiralled quickly...

The song Gawain sings is called "Nesso" by Heilung;

The lyrics are taken from the words of an ancient healing spell from early Medieval Europe that was preserved by the clerics of the Church in a passage called "Contra Vermes" from the 9th Century! The spell itself was originally to draw sickness from a horse, but works well enough for this. Translation as follows;

"Go out worm, with your nine little ones, out from the marrow to the bone, from the bone to the flesh, out from the flesh to the skin, out from the skin (in)to this arrow, Lord make it so" and I added "Arawn make it so" after the Fey Deity Arawn. Thought I'd throw in a little nod back to Gawain and Nimue's relationship in the book and a few moments from the series into this one! Thanks for reading, onto the next!.

[crowentity233]

Spare Shadows (pt. 1)

(Slow Burn Type Story)

Mako x Reader

Pt2 Masterlist

Summary: Darkness is hovering over the city. Dae is one of many struggling to survive in the city without any control. Police have exhausted all efforts to save the city. The Avatar saves Dae after being captured by Bolin and Mako. Dae, a master swordswoman, then follows the group to save her spirit friends in the city.

(No warnings, I'm attempting at a storyline that would fit into Korra. If you can watch korra, you can handle this, so rated what the show I'd rated.)

Tenzin stopped in front of Korra's door. He knocked quickly. "Korra. We need to discuss some things going on in Republic City."

"I'm not here!" Korra yelled out. She already knew what was going on. Mako and Bolin had already told her about the horror in the streets.

"Korra! This is bigger than what you think it is. You need to hear this. Jinora has heard the spirits talking about the things going on in the city." Tenzin visited his daughter this morning he had informed her of a rising problem over the surrounding area of the new portal.

Korra slammed the door open. "You think I haven't heard them too. I know I was meditating this morning like you told me too, then this spirit comes to tell me that darkness is taking over spirits, but I don't know what's causing it." She walked out, leaving Tenzin behind her.

"Korra, please calm down. We can figure this out. We need to stop and think rationally about what's going on in the city." Tenzin followed her out to the courtyard.

"Don't tell me to calm down! I know there is something dangerous out there. People are trashing the streets, gangs are flooding with new members, cars are blowing up, and the people have started doing anything they can think of to destroy the town. There are spirits out there terrorizing citizens." Korra had lost her temper. Everything around the city was being demolished by the very citizens who lived there. Mako and Bolin have become overwhelmed trying to fight the crime.

"Korra, this has to be connected somehow." Jinora stepped into the courtyard. "Some of the spirits from the northpole have told me the spirits near the new portal have become infected with dark energy." She stepped beside her father.

"I know it's connected. The spirits get their energy from their surroundings. The people in the city have become barbaric. If they stop, the spirits stop." Korra had calmed into a slightly calmer tone, but the rage was still apparent.

"How do we get the people to follow rules and become better citizens?" Jinora asked.

"I don't know. The jails are full. We could make a bigger jail." Korra suggested she placed her hand on her chin. She chewed her lip thinking.

"I don't think that's going to work..." Asami trailed as she approached. Her ship had docked both Mako and Bolin were at her side they had both helped her stay stable.

"Asami!" Korra ran to her side. Asami's clothes were tattered up. She had scratches on her body.

Korra took her into her arms, carrying her. "We have to get you to the healers room."

The group followed as Asami was placed into the water. "What happened?" Tenzin asked the brothers.

"Her warehouse was attacked. A group tried to rob it." Mako spoke simply.

"They busted in and just started taking stuff. There were so many of them. It's getting worse. The crime was just at night, but now it's all day and night, and they are just getting bigger, badder, and scarier, " Bolin exclaimed, throwing his arms out dramatically.

"We caught one of the criminals. She is locked up in the ship's cell room." Mako finished for his brother.

"Do you know who she's working for?" Jinora asked.

"It's not Shady Shin. The woman was just screaming about wanting him dead in a jumbly voice." Mako crossed his arms."I tried asking her, but she-"

"She was acting like a caged animal. She was screaming and barking like a dogbat." Bolin dramatically interrupted.

"Take me to her. Jinora, stay here with Asami and Korra-"

"No, dad. You know what this sounds like. You know that I can help." Jinora stood her ground against the protective father.

"But Jinora, it's not safe." Tenzin said quickly.

"I'm actually with your dad on this one, Jinora. This woman is dangerous, and we dont know who she is or what she is capable of. You are the best spirit guide here. We can't risk anything." Mako agreed. Bolin shook his head, too.

"I will call you down if we need your help, okay? Stay with korra and Asami. Just listen out for us." Tenzin followed the men.

"Okay." She said and stayed with the pair.

Mako and Bolin led Tenzin to the ship. "Has she used any bending?" Tenzin asked.

"She hasn't since we've seen her. We are assuming she is a non-bender. She looks like she is in her twenties. She won't say her name or anything about her life." Mako stepped onto the ship. "She's in here."

The trio stepped inside to see the cell with the girl hunched over. Snarls and low growls sounded through the room as they got closer. The girl looked up, seeing them enter the room. She ran towards the bars, grabbing them she shook her arms unnaturally hard, trying to get out.

"What do you think it is?" Bolin turned to Tenzin for wisdom.

"This certainly isn't just a normal criminal empire." Tenzin put his fingers to his chin. He stepped out from the room back to the deck. "Yes, It's connected to the spirits. That's not the woman in that cell. A dark spirit has taken control of her. Boys, you're fighting a losing battle. This is bigger than our world alone."

"Dark Spirits! What do we do for that? They're taking over the city." Bolin gasped horrified.

"We are going to have to see how we can get the spirit to come out of the woman in that cell. If we can deal with one, then we can find a way to deal with the rest." Tenzin led the boys off the ship.

"What are we going to do about the woman? We can't leave her in there, " Bolin asked.

"I'm not going in there. We need some backup before we deal with her. I need some time to talk with Jinora. Once we get the woman restrained or the spirit changes, then we will have her take a look." Tenzin and the brothers walked into the healing room. "The woman is possessed by a dark spirit."

Korra let the water fall from Asami's wounds. "That makes sense. The group didn't seem human. They were acting weird. It started out where crime was normal and just a few were acting strange but then the number of them started growing...fast." Asami spoke up, feeling much better after Korra healed her wounds they were all surface level, easily healed.

Jinora's hand fell to hip while the other rubbed her neck. She was lost in thought for a moment. "If they are possessing the people, then there has to be a reason. Spirits wouldn't just go to all that trouble for nothing."

"I know spirits will react to emotions in the spirit world," korra added.

"Yes, but here it's different. They don't react to just emotions. There had to be something that made them upset." Jinora said.

"Well, she seemed to be really mad at the mention of Shady Shin." Bolin thought outloud. "You should have seen her. she went wild."

Mako's eyes widened. "That's it. Shady Shin was planning something with the spirit world. Crime shot up in the area around the portal."

"So that made them upset, and they started taking over bodies to destroy the city like the humans that must have been destroying the spirit world." Korra finished.

Tenzin placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Jinora, we need to get that spirit out of her. You'd be able to talk to the spirit when it comes out of her, right?"

"Yeah, the spirit might know what's going on, but korra, you have to calm the spirit before we release it, or it will possess someone else." Jinora nodded towards korra.

"Calm the spirit. I can handle that." Korra stood and helped Asami up.

The group was led to the cell the woman was being held in. Jinora was instructed to stay back because her connection to the spirit was so strong. They couldn't risk her getting possessed.

"Well, I bet she is great at parties." Korra eyed the woman behind the cell.

"Maybe a rage room..." Asami spoke under her breath.

Korra's eyes set onto the woman. She used her hands to begin slowly bending the spirit. It was like the spirit was being rocked and held. The comfort led the spirit closer to the light. She shifted the energy around the woman. The woman calmed down from her position on the bars. She landed on her feet, then fell to her knees. The spirit slowly exited her body. Her back finally collapsed onto the floor as the spirit calmly hovered over her.

Jinora left her hiding place and slowly approached the spirit. Korra stepped to the side, not leaving the defense of Jinora.

Jinora whispered to the spirit. The spirit spoke softly back to her in a sweet tone. The spirit was so much better behaved than before. She dismissed the spirit, helping it back to the spirit world.

"The spirit said that there was a lot going on. She didn't know much, but there was a grave darkness taking over around the city Portal. Shady Shin has made a lot of spirits angry. She is very sorry for what she has done. There are a lot more out there and many more coming. It will infest the spirit world and will eventually hit the other portals, and the entire spirit world will darken, then the world will then become dark."

"Great, so we still don't know any possible way to stop it, and the world will parish if we don't stop it. Perfect." Korra rolled her eyes.

"That's not true. We know that we have to calm the spirit to get them out of people's bodies." Tenzin spoke up.

"Yes, but I can't bend spirit on that scale. There's too many of them." Korra added, crossing her arms over her chest.

"One problem at a time..." Asami kneeled down in front of the woman. "What are we going to do for her?"

Korra's eyes softened as her girlfriend picked the woman up in her arms. Korra helped Asami lift and carry the limp woman up to the healing room. The others stayed outside in the courtyard.

"Jinora, is there anything you know about waking her up?" Asami asked, calling her in the room.

"She needs some rest. Healing with water will help, but her mind needs rest so she can come back. Her spirit was cast to the side to give room for the dark spirit. Some people come back quickly, and others take time to wake up."

"Thank you, Jinora. Asami, do you mind if I take some time alone to heal her. I need to think about what we are going to do." The two nodded. Asami kissed korra softly before walking out to the courtyard.

Tag List:

(Just let me know if you'd like to be tagged)

[youregonnagofaar]

happy ending myth; a steve harrington story

chapter 5. just a little bit of tenderness 

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4

pairing: best friend!eddie munson, close friend!max mayfield, slowburn!steve harrington

a/n: this took a long time to post despite me having it written and edited thanks to me getting a three week sinus infection. i’m going to start releasing these on mondays from now on and i’m still not sure how many chapters this will end up being. i changed my url and have made sure to edit all links so they work properly for everyone wanting to start from the beginning. thanks again for the support and as always i do enjoy feeback ha :) 

summary: steve and you have a conversation about the night of the halloween party, max and you hug it out, the gang visits the creel house, you witness that steve and nancy do still have a tiny spark, robin does her best (as always), you have your first injury, and robin witnesses flirting behind the wheeler window.

warnings: mild violence, curse words, anxiety, an injury near an eye takes place, pls let me know if i missed anything

word count: 6,315

tag list: @evansflowers

Steve held your hand tightly as the both of you braced the chilly air outside. The sudden rush of cold felt wonderful on your body but also made you aware of all the places you were sweating. In embarrassment, you let go of his hand and giggled. “I really wish Max had warned me about how none of us are able to shower when facing these monsters.” Steve looked at you with a grin and nodded his head in agreement. Despite going through this a few times he had never remembered to just bring deodorant with him. However, over the years his smell had gotten worse. Probably due to so many punches to the nose since this, all started. The sun was just about to rise and the grass had frost on the tips. If someone had told you in High School that King Steve would be holding your hand on a morning like this, you’d laugh in their face. 

“Oh, it's been worse than this. Last time it was summer and I had a decent amount of the kids in some random car. Robin and I had just been beaten up by some Russian spies who were pissed we ruined their plans. So it smelt awful for the first few moments until my nose went numb.” Steve hadn’t realized how much he was saying until he saw your face fill with worry. There was so much you didn’t know about their past endeavors despite him feeling like you had been here all along. He placed his hands in his pockets and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry if that was too much.” It still confused him at how easy it was to tell you anything. Even though you looked at him in shock you still weren’t calling him stupid for saying so much at once. The comfort you made him feel scared him to his core. 

“No, no it’s not too much. I just didn’t realize all the things you’d been through. I am now getting the Halloween costume…uhh Risky Business!” You smirked at him big cause you were excited your brain could remember such a small detail of life before The upside down. The joke was also kinda bad since this was clearly more than risky. Thinking of that night made his cheeks warm for all the wrong reasons, but then he saw the face you made and felt a whole other warmth. It then hit him that he wasn’t sure if he had ever seen you at this party. He had eyes for only one person and drank far too much that night. What part of the night had you seen him? How many times had he already embarrassed himself in front of you? 

“Yeah, umm, what part of the night did you end up witnessing?” He was beyond nervous about your answer. Either way, it was probably a weird sight for you. He either only had eyes for Nance or was a total jerk in a terrible mood. 

You began to really think because for you the night wasn’t all that to remember. You left early because you were bored. Eddie had only shown up at the party to sell some drugs and then was ready to head out once the deals had been made. However, you did remember seeing a sad Steve getting a drink at some point in the night. He seemed upset but he looked so pretty and that made no sense to you at all. However, before you could even think of walking towards him, Tommy and Carol appeared. Not wanting to even hear her remarks about your costume you ended up leaving shortly after. “ I saw you getting a drink and looking like the saddest boy in the world.” You gave him a soft smile and shrugged. “Even if I had gotten the guts to walk up to you, it would’ve been horrible to do that in front of Carol.” You shook your head and made a noise of disgust, “She is one person I will never miss.” 

Steve let out a laugh that felt genuine and it scared him for a moment. “Well honestly, I’m glad you didn’t talk to me that night.” 

You took this moment to sit down and pat the frosted grass next to you. Steve took your cue and sat down, his shoulder touching yours, causing a warm tingle to rise in your spine. The whispers of Nancy breaking up with Steve for Johnathan were all around school after that night. It was no secret to all of Hawkins High that this was a huge blow to King Steve. The bruises and cuts on his face days after were further proof that something big had happened. Little did you know that he was fighting his own demons along with real monsters. 

“So umm, who did you dress up as that night?” Steve looked over at you with a smile wanting nothing more than to change the route of this conversation. That night no one understood your costume. Eddie had to cheer you up after he gave you a joint and finally cried about it. The night didn’t mean much to you the way it meant so much to Steve. 

“Oh, I dressed up as Ellen Ripley from Alien, but everyone thought I was just some mechanic.” You shrugged remembering the outfit that Mr. Munson had given you. It was from his old days as a mechanic and it worked perfectly. You had made your own name tag and everything, but the idea was lost on everyone there. 

“Dustin’s mentioned that movie a lot, but I haven’t been able to watch it.” Steve looked over at you and the way his eyes twinkled in the rising sunlight made your heart skip a beat. 

“Well, maybe one day I can show you the movie.” You weren’t sure if a time would ever come when the world would be calm enough to watch a film again, but the idea of showing Steve a favorite movie of your’s made you excited. You wanted so badly to curse your hormones but the way you felt around him covered you with a type of joy you couldn’t explain. 

“I’d really like that.” As he spoke the two of you just smiled a cheesy grin. A calm clouded your senses as the two of you looked into each other's eyes. Both of you were lost in the idea of how this date night would go. 

For Steve, you came out of nowhere. However, you had always known of Steve Harrington. No one who went to Hawkins didn’t know about King Steve. He was the typical pretty boy who was always going to be Prom King. You had found him to be good-looking, but the thing was, so did everyone else. He was all girls talked about and at one point in your teenage angst, you had found him absolutely annoying. The thing was, this wasn’t King Steve anymore. 

You were lost in thought until you heard the sliding glass door open from behind. Both of your bodies turned quickly as if there was something no one should see going on. The reaction caused Robin to stifle a laugh. 

“Hey, lovebirds! We gotta go! Nancy figured out that we need to go to the Creel house!” Robin's raspy voice filled the once-quiet air causing Steve and you to look at her with wide eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have drool on my face?” 

You and Steve looked at each other before rolling your eyes. “No, Robin there is no drool on your face.” You got up slowly and rubbed your sweaty palms on your jeans with a smile. “I’m going to see if Max needs me at all.” 

Steve watched as you walked away his heart feeling different than before. Maybe it was the way you listened to how he spoke or how your eyes lit up when you brought up things you liked, he wasn’t sure but he knew he was in for it. Robin was giving him a look that he knew would lead to questions he had no answers for. 

“So…what did I just interrupt?” The smirk on her face made Steve roll his eyes and wince. 

“She wants to watch that movie Alien with me. If all of this ever ends.” His shoulders slouched forward as he attempted to walk back into the Wheeler house. 

“Wait a minute, Steve, talk to me, I can see how you look at her. I see the way she looks at you. Are you actually going to make some type of move?” Robin was frustrated watching Steve aimlessly flirt with you but then she saw the look he gave her from the question and sighed. “Okay, no moves need to be made, but could you at least fill your best pal in on what is happening here?”

“I like her Robin, a lot, but Nance.” He let out an annoyed sigh and ran his fingers through his hair. Steve liked you more than he cared to admit, every time he spoke with you it felt like he was actually being heard. Yet, this was the first time in so long that he had Nancy smile at him again and that feeling sometimes overpowered all his senses. Even when he knew it wasn’t right because Nance had moved on. 

“Steve, you need to get over Nancy. She has moved on and you should too. Just like her, you are allowed to like someone else and I haven’t seen you look at someone like this before. Just do yourself a favor and try it out. Maybe Y/N is the right person for you to move on with.” Robin placed her hand on her best friend's back and smiled. “Can you just follow my advice for once in your life?” 

“Yeah, maybe I can.” He shrugged and looked at Robin with a soft smile before walking into the Wheeler household. His thoughts only on you and how badly he wanted all of this to work out. Before you, he would dream of Nancy as the mother of his children. They’d travel the world and he would raise them with love and care. Make sure that they knew they were loved and never leave them on their own for stupid business trips. But last night, he had that same dream but instead of Nance, it was you. You were in the passenger side of that big trailer as they traveled the world. He grabbed an ice pack out of the freezer and placed it on his left eye, praying that his thoughts would settle for once. 

You had already made your way down to the basement, Max had been down there for a bit just trying to plan out the mission to the Creel house. When you caught her eye she gave you a weak smile, because she knew that there was so much to explain. “Do you have a minute? I just… umm…need to talk to you about all of this.” Max felt she had pushed you into this life by just accepting your friendship. Everything felt doomed when a being with mind control could alter the course of your life in an instant. 

“Steve told me some stuff about last year in the mall. I guess he got beat up by some Russian spies?” Despite being confused, you knew that everything would not be explained. A decent amount of this was still a mystery to even the people who were deeply involved. “Max, listen you don’t have to explain too much to me. I know all of this isn’t really something that has the right answers.” You paused trying your best to come up with the right thing to say. “All I care about is keeping you safe. So wherever you go I’ll be there, okay?” 

Max almost broke down at that moment, because you were asking for nothing in return. It made her so angry that she had let you into her life. She felt she knew the risks and still allowed you to get close despite the warnings of danger. No one else was around so she quickly hugged you tight, letting only a few tears fall. “Thank you.” Her words muffled as she tried to gain composure back. 

Soon Dustin and Lucas were yelling at the two of you to come back upstairs. Max backed away, you fixed her hair and sighed. This was her typical reaction when displaying public affection. To distract her from the threat of someone seeing her vulnerable, you spoke up, “So off to the Creel house?” The Creel house was an old abandoned home that held its own lore of why it looked that way. As a child, you heard some kids saying it was because the man who once owned it, killed his whole family. Now that you had more information, it appeared it wasn’t that clear-cut. 

“When Vecna had me, I got to some area that he didn’t want me to see. I couldn’t sleep last night so I started to draw what I could remember. Turns out, Nancy has seen the door before.” As Max spoke you tried your best to connect the dots. “Oh and after all of that, we have to bring Eddie some food. He must be starving.” She rolled her eyes when bringing up Eddie's hunger. That problem seemed so small compared to the one she was facing. Of course, you agreed but you still worried about Eddie. He was the only constant in your life and this had been the longest the two of you had been apart. 

Despite not understanding everything, you nodded your head and made your way upstairs. Everyone was ready to go as they rallied into the car. You ended up being seated with Dustin and Steve in the back, in an area where most people kept their luggage or an extra tire. The two boys let you in first and you did your best to take up a little room. Once everyone settled Nancy began to drive to the Creel House. Steve had decided to take the space next to you and Dustin was sitting right in front of you. You decided to place your legs against your chest, wanting to take up the least amount of room but also to control your breathing. As you tried your best to get comfortable you tried to connect what you could. Hawkins was built on some weird fault line for the supernatural. A young girl named El was the reason all of this happened but she appeared to have never meant this type of harm to anyone. Barb and Will seemed to be the first two victims but Will managed to survive. Each year something new would emerge and it was more hostile than the creature that came before. Somehow all of it was connected to the game Eddie loved to play, Dungeons and Dragons. Despite them telling you about it all days ago due to the violent events, it was hard to understand. 

“Dustin, you sit with Eddie at lunch right?” As you spoke Steve glanced over at you. Trying to figure out what was going on in your mind. Dustin nodded and you furrowed your brows. “Did you see him with Chrissy that day?” 

“Nope, I’ve never even seen those two interact before so it was weird to hear he was with her.” As Dustin spoke you began to pick at your cuticles. This was an anxious habit that you had never seemed to break. The uncertainty of it all would randomly rise in your chest, making it feel as if it was hard to breathe. You had two big fears in life which were: the unknown and ending up all alone. Somehow it seemed the Upside Down had both those fears intertwined. 

“He must’ve met with her in the woods after school. Vecna must’ve been really messing with her if she ended up needing drugs.” Steve watched your nervous hands after being caught up in the adorable wrinkles that formed on your forehead and realized that you would end up hurting yourself. He placed his hands over your’s and it caught you off guard for only a moment. Once you looked over and saw his warm eyes and soft smile your shoulders seemed to relax once more. A soft smile soon formed on your lips just from the comfort he brought. Dustin watched with confusion but he was also very intrigued. If anyone wanted Steve Harrington to move on, it was Dustin Henderson. The curly-haired boy watched his best friend pine over many people before. It had gotten worse since Steve got a job at Family Video. So to witness the man finally make moves was a sight to behold. 

Dustin cleared his throat and began to speak trying his best to get more information out of you. “Y/N, why haven’t I seen you at the D&D campaigns?” His tone was somewhat accusatory but you could tell from his smile that he meant no harm. A new type of smile covered your face before you looked back over to Dustin. Despite hearing Eddie and his friends talk about you, you had never shown up at a campaign. You knew what he was trying to do because it was clear that he and Steve were close. From what you heard about him from Eddie and the fact that he was close with Max, it was obvious he was trying to get as much information out of you as possible.

So you smiled at the question and shook your head no. “I suck at that game no matter how many times Eddie has tried his best to teach me. However, he has yet to read a Jane Austen novel so I guess we have always been even.” Eddie was told to read Emma just once and in return, you would attempt to join the game but he could never do it. Since it wasn’t for the lack of trying, you did let him explain the rules once but you couldn’t grasp it. 

Dustin let out a laugh as the image of Eddie reading Jane Austen came into his mind. He seemed like a really nice kid and you could tell why Eddie had grown attached to him. Due to your work schedule, you were never able to meet Dustin before. To meet him now under these circumstances made you feel uneasy. Soon, Nancy had reached the Creel House causing half of the group to get out of the car. Dustin unlatched the back and made his way to Max and Lucas’s side. You and Steve sat there for a bit longer looking at the house you were meant to enter. 

“So I’m guessing this is the least terrifying thing you’ve seen since getting into this mess?” Your voice was soft as you looked at the boarded windows. 

“Umm no, this is still just as terrifying to you as it is to me.” It was some cosmic curse how comfortable you felt next to him despite all the scary things happening. His fingers ran over your’s before he spoke again. “You ready?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Steve squeezed your hand before helping you out of the back. Max had her eye on the two of you as you both walked closer to each other before standing in front of the house with everyone else. 

“Yeah, that’s not creepy…” Steve spoke up and Robin gave him a knowing look before he made his way up to the door with Nancy. As they began to take the nails off the boards on the door he looked at Nancy. “What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?” His tone was different than how it had been in the car. He sounded confused and annoyed about the situation. 

“We’re not sure. We just know this house is important to Venca.” Nancy was focusing on trying to get the boards off the door. Even though she looked tiny, she was strong. Your eyes would trail from Steve to Nancy watching as they worked together. 

Being the newest member of a group of people who had so much shared trauma was difficult. Everyone knew each other and the banter between them all seemed to flow naturally. It felt lonely, during these times you wished Eddie was around. You missed him and the way he was able to calm your nerves with his horrible jokes. You began to get lost in thought as the rest of the group was focused on getting into the Creel house. It wasn’t until you heard the loud thud of the boards that covered the door that you were sent back to reality. 

The door thudded onto the concrete, causing you to jump a bit. You watched Max as she looked at the single red rose stained into the glass. Her whole face had changed into something more serious. Steve was rattling the doorknob “It’s locked. Should I knock and see if anybody's home?” 

“No need.” Robin chimed as you all faced her. She was holding a brick in her hand. “I found a key.” She smirked before throwing it straight into the glass part of the door. The hole it created was big enough for Steve to reach in and grab the handle from the other side. As the door opened, you held your breath, unsure of what this house would look like after all those years abandoned. The group of you entered in a single file line. It was dark and dusty, typical for a house that hasn’t had a tenant in years but there was something bad about this house. You heard Lucas talk about the electricity but your mind was racing as you tried to understand why this place felt so awful. 

“Hey, guys…” Max was now in front of an old grandfather clock, her flashlight shining on the dirty glass. “You all see that right?”

Dustin and Steve answered her with a yeah, but Nancy looked at her. “Is this what you saw? In your visions?” Max only nodded her head yes in response and you got closer to her just in case. 

“I mean it's… just a clock, right?” said Robin as she began to get closer to the clock everyone was gathered around. Her hand wiped the dust off the glass. “Like a normal clock.” 

“Why is this wizard obsessed with clocks?” Steve was confused and you could see his eyebrows furrow as he spoke. “Maybe he’s like a clockmaker or something?” 

“I think you cracked the case, Steve.” Dustin was clearly being sarcastic causing Steve to give him a glare that made you smirk. 

“All I know is the answers are here… somewhere.” Nancy was sure of something and none of you could deny the feeling you all shared. Something happened in this house, something important. “Okay, everyone stay in groups. Robin, Y/N, upstairs.” As Robin saluted you nodded your head. You gave Steve a little wave before he let out a sigh that made Dustin roll his eyes. The two boys began to banter as the rest of you made your way to different areas of the house. 

As you looked around the creaky house, you felt a sudden rush of sadness. It looked like the whole family had just up and left. They didn’t even take family photos. You picked up one of the picture frames and it showed a once-happy family. Because of how you grew up, you knew what it was like to have your world shifted in one moment. Nancy and Robin had noticed you looking sad and made an effort to get your attention. 

“So, Y/N, do you still work at the bookshop in town?” Nancy’s voice caused you to break out of your sadness and smile softly at her. 

You placed the photo back where it was and turned around to face Nancy. “Yeah, I’ve been working there since graduation. I think I saw you there once, dropping off the school newspaper.” 

“Oh yeah, it’s normally…” Nancy’s voice trailed off as she began to think of her dead friend. The look on her face caused you to try and change the subject quickly. You couldn’t imagine losing the friends that Nancy had. First, it was Barb and now it was someone she sure didn’t spend a lot of free time with but they worked closely on the paper together.

“Umm… so what happened to this family? Did you get any information from that visit to Pennhurst?” The question broke Nancy out of her sad trance. If there was one thing you remembered about Nancy Wheeler it was her ability to always know more than anyone. Robin, Nancy and you were all walking up some stairs as she was about to explain Steve burst out in front of her with a look of distress covering his face. 

“Whoa, Woah! What’s wrong?” Nancy looked concerned as Steve started to dust himself off frantically. 

“There was a spider.” He was out of breath as he spoke. 

“What?” She looked both concerned and confused at the same time. Of course, there were spiders, this place had to be filled with them.

“It’s a black widow” He quickly ran to the handle and slammed the door shut. “Don’t go in there.” 

“Oh, oh. Wait just..” You watched as Nancy began to pick at Steve’s hair he was acting frantic about a possible spider in his hair. He kept moving forward and Nancy had to tell him to stop several times until he finally listened. You watched her take a web out of his now messy hair and his whole face lit up as she did so. The whole scene made you feel nauseous and Robin could tell.

“If there is a spider in there you won’t find it till it lays eggs and the babies spill out.” As she spoke, she looked over at you trying to get you out of whatever mood you were now in. 

“What is wrong with you?!” Steve said his voice filled with annoyance and Robin’s only reply was a chuckle before grabbing your arm and leading you away from the scene. 

This left Steve to begin babbling to Nancy letting her know that Robin and he were just friends. Which made you feel even sicker because if he was telling Nancy these things, it meant he still loved her. You understood if he was, it just hurt that for a moment you had actually believed he could possibly like you. When Steve and Nancy began to date everyone talked about it. The two seemed to be the perfect couple, the brains and the beauty. 

“Platonic with a capital P!” Robin who was now several feet ahead of Nancy and Steve spoke up, giving you a little poke on your side to cheer you up the best she could. She wanted to punch Steve for being such a dingus when it came to Nancy but she knew he needed to really figure that out himself.

“Yep, thank you.” His voice had never waivered still full of the same annoyance he felt earlier. Nancy was still getting the rest of the dust and webs out of his hair.

You couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation since Robin had done her best to pull you away from it. Robin could sense the uneasiness brewing inside you so she led you a little further away before finally speaking. “You know, Steve, he thinks he still loves her.” 

The words hit you with a pang in the chest. You turned to look at Nancy and Steve before looking back to Robin. “It looks like he’s pretty sure about it.”  There was no way you could get between that and maybe there was no need for you to even try. Sure, maybe he did like you but how were you sure that it wasn’t just all the excitement of meeting someone new? Yes, he made you feel comfortable but that didn’t mean it was going to be anything more than friends. 

“Well, Steve Harrington has always looked to be many things….and well a lot of it he isn’t.” Her words were soft and you could tell this was a more meaningful conversation. Robin was getting at something deeper but at the moment it didn’t quite make sense. There was far too much on your mind right now both Max and Eddie were in danger. 

“Those two have a history I can’t really compete with. Max, she’s in danger and Eddie is framed for murders. Plus I don’t want to get my hopes up.” The last words caught you and Robin by surprise. You did like Steve a lot but there was so much going on right now and if he did like Nancy maybe that’s just how this is meant to be. 

Robin was about to say something but then suddenly Max yelled from below. Since being on high alert with anything Max related, it didn’t take you long to run down the steps to where she was standing with Lucas. 

The sun had set now and all of you were now in the living room of the Creel house. The chandelier was turning on and off again as if it were a heartbeat. “It’s like the Christmas lights,” Nancy spoke and you realized there was another thing you had missed in this journey. 

“The Christmas lights?” Robin decided to ask the same question you had on your mind.

“Yeah, when Will was in the Upside Down, the lights… came to life.” Max was whispering and it caused you to feel uneasy. 

Lucas then spoke up.  “Vecna’s here…in this house. Just on the other side.” Soon the light stopped buzzing causing all of you to look around to see if anything else was glowing. 

“I think he just left the room.” Robin blurted out. The house was much darker now causing you to get closer to Steve who happened to be right next to you. It wasn’t that you were afraid of the dark, it was just this dark was something else. 

Max began to eye the room with a bit of fear. “Did he hear us?”

“Can he see us?” As Steve spoke, he got closer to you in fear of what was around him. It seemed you both felt the same way about being close. How it offered the both of you a type of solace that was hard to find anywhere else. 

“Headphones,” Lucas ordered looking over to Max. It didn’t take long for her to quickly place the headphones back on her ears and turn the volume up as best she could. 

Nancy looked like her brain was going into overdrive before finally speaking. “Wait, wait, everyone turn off your flashlights and spread out.” 

“We’re not going to be able to see if we turn off our flash… lights,” Steve muttered. “Jesus Christ.” You grabbed his hand quickly and squeeze it as if to say that you were there and it would be just fine. It caught him off guard and he was never able to settle into the feeling. 

“I got him!” Robin walked into another room that was close to the stairs. Her flashlight flashed the same way the chandelier had earlier.  “I had him!” 

Steve’s flashlight began to go off causing both of you to let go of each other's hands. However, you never left his side as you began to journey up the stairs. It wasn’t until he reached the landing that the light died back down. “Shit, I lost him”

“No, you didn’t,” Max chimed in, still able to hear everything despite Kate Bush blaring from her headphones.

Everyone was walking so closely that it was almost as if you had one mind. As everyone walked further up it became clear the source of this was in the attic. Robin was already cursing the idea of this because, of course, the creepy things happening had to be sourced from the attic. Dustin was soon muttering but curiosity took over every sense in your body. There had to be some key as to why this place showed up in Max’s trance. Even though it scared you deeply, it was far more important to keep Max safe.  The attic was dark and smelt of rotting wood, the only source of light was a giant window that made the house look menacing. This was a scene out of a horror movie and everyone had seen enough of them to know that the ending wasn’t going to be ideal. There was only one light fixture for the space and it began to turn on and off at the pace the other lights had done before. Everyone stood underneath it watching as it began to make a buzzing noise that grew louder over time. An uneasy feeling washed over you as the noise grew louder, you hadn’t been this scared since seeing Max levitating in the graveyard. Something was here but no one could see it, yet each one of you knew it was Vecna. Suddenly you heard a pop and the glass from the flashlight shattered into tiny pieces all around your face. Luckily, the sound caused you to pull your head back so you only had a few cuts on your cheeks. Max and Steve both looked at you with concern until it began to happen to the rest of the group. 

It became clear at that moment after the flashlights were broken and the light above burst that Vecna was drawing a lot of power. As everyone walked down the steps and back into the car you began to rub your flannel on your cheek. A few of the cuts stung and Steve kept telling you to keep your pressure on the cut so it would stop bleeding. Despite the group being tired each one of them noticed how he was so concerned about your well-being. In the back of the car, he took the time to check for any lingering glass that could infect the cuts. Dustin was his assistant nurse holding a flashlight up so Steve could get a good look. The way Steve was dotting on you would’ve normally caused you to be embarrassed but your body felt heavy and your mind was fuzzy. So instead you watched him in a daze as he cleaned and sanitized your wound. This reaction would’ve worried him years ago but he had suffered enough from this world to know that it left shock. The kids were too tired to enter the store so the older members except for you decided to go in real quick and grab some food for Eddie. Robin, Nancy, and Steve all insisted you stay in the car and watch over the kids.  By the time they had gotten back, the kids were fast asleep in the weirdest positions but you watched Max as she rested. 

On the ride back, everything in you began to process what had just happened. Steve kept looking at you trying his best to figure out what was going on in your head. Steve had no idea you saw the way his face lit up when he was with Nancy. He didn’t even notice his face had lit up that way in the first place. Yet, the way Robin was so sure about Steve not loving Nancy confused you. The main thing you were worried about wasn’t Steve Harrington, it was Max Mayfield. The summer the two of you met was so life-changing. For years, it felt that you were just doomed and it wasn’t possible for someone with so much damage to help anyone younger. Max had proved you wrong and you wanted to do everything in your power to keep that safe. The cuts seemed to become numb as time went on, it was possible that you just already gotten used to the pulsing pain. When Nancy finally made it back to her house everyone piled out of the car without saying a word. Except for Steve who had pulled you aside as the rest made their way to achieve some sleep. 

“Hey, are you okay? You seemed kinda lost in the car and, listen I get that feeling. This world involves a lot of shocks and you also just got some nasty cuts from that flashlight.” Steve had this habit of rambling even when comfortable. There were just too many thoughts going through his mind all at once and so little time to get them out. Taking a deep breath you looked at him, his face covered with genuine concern that made you understand how he got the title Mom from the kids. 

“Steve, I’m fine, just worried about Max. Thank you for cleaning me up in the car. Dustin and you really would make a fine pair of nurses.” As you spoke his eyes grew wide as if he was confused until it hit him and he let out a small laugh. Once he finally laughed, you giggled and smiled at him. “Don’t worry about me, I’m tough I promise” He knew that you could handle yourself, and yet he still felt the need to stand in the way of anything that could cause harm. Before heading inside, you placed your hand on his shoulder and gave him another warm smile. He watched as you walked into the Wheeler house and ran his fingers through his hair. A sigh of relief left his lips as he realized that Robin hadn’t been there to witness that interaction. Then he heard a loud bang on the window and saw Robin giving him a thumbs-up causing him to roll his eyes. 

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake said: you always shield me from the truth because you don’t think i can take it. / bell

it pained him, wounded him in a way he couldn't quite explain, to see octavia slowly growing up between every visit. to know she was living so much of her life without him. to know how many huge milestones of her early life he was missing. he had already been separated from her once before and now, again, for years. it aged him more than the harsh life he survived through behind bars. but as painful as it was, and as often as they would end up fighting during these visits it was still the highlight of his month.

they sat now, opposite one another the first time after they had both been attacked. though his injury had been life threatening, the scars were hidden under his orange jumpsuit where as the fading marks of octavia's were still a faint shadow across her features. his hand gripped the phone tightly as he studied her with dark glossy eyes, the knowledge that she had been so severely injured without him around, without being able to stop them, to protect her. it was what nearly drew him to madness being locked up.

"hey o..." he began quietly, voice ragged with barely contained emotion. he was glad to have been updated by grant and nick about the rival members who did this to her, that they'd been dealt with but god he wished he could have been the one to do it. his jaw clenched, hand reaching to the glass to meet hers where she'd already placed it. "how're.. you doing...?" he asked and though she told him she was fine he didn't believe her, how could she be fine after what happened to her? in their own place. where he should have been there to protect her. a quivered breath of rage escaped slowly through his lips. this wasn't the time to get angry, not in front of her.

how about you...? she had countered and he blinked, swallowing thickly. his recovery had been slow, grueling, painful. the scars left would be ugly and leave his skin pinched and gnarled. the stitches still pulled at his skin and ached, and he was recovering from an infection from the surgery but he was alive. he offered a tight smile, "hey, i'm fine, don't you worry about me, kay...?" he tapped the glass in a playful manner but there was no trace of a smile mirrored back at him. i don't believe you. she told him and he scoffed, shifting -- though very carefully, "well i could say the same," he countered before she continued.

you always shield me from the truth because you don’t think i can take it.

bellamy's lips pressed together at that, a tightening spreading across his chest. he could see the hurt, the fear, the anger in her eyes and he knew it all lead back to the reason he was put in here in the first place, that's where it always lead. "o..." he began, looking down at the table he leaned against as his hand closed to a fist against the glass. "it's not that," he told her with a shake of his head. "it's not that i don't think you can take it, it's that you shouldn't have to." his voice shook as he lifted his head again to meet her eyes. "you shouldn't have to deal with any of this shit. not with me in here, not---" he cut off, anger rising as his voice grew deeper with rage. he had to breathe otherwise he'd be pulled away.

"i'm so sorry, o..." he whispered, guilt and longing twisting in his expression and swirling deep in his eyes. "i want to protect you because that's what i should be doing as your big brother, it's my job and i..." couldn't. he couldn't. not trapped in here. he had to leave her safety in her own hands, in nicks and the gang. and it was so hard to do. "i know you can take it... you're one of the strongest people i've ever known, you know that? tough as nails, a blake through and through... but i just wanted you to be a kid, to not have to worry about things that you shouldn't have to. and i'm so sorry i can't be there to help make that happen..."

[citrus-blade]

Could u talk a bit about other stories you have planned or AUs?

Oof, i can do that sure! Important: ALL this are works I didn't write anything for yet except notes that are all in ONE document. I haven't started writing any of them yet! (Except infeasible)

Also, all of them are Dreamnoblade as main ship!

Infeasible Prince!Dream and Knight!Techno. Basically Dream was sent to the kindgom where Techno is a knight in order to marry the prince there. However, the prince is a horrible person and Dream knows this, but is ready to go through with the marriage to help his own kingdom. Techno is his personal knight. The two get closer and fall in love but... There will Not be a happy ending in this one!

Arranged Marriage with a Twist-AU Techno is the king of the arctic empire but his people get worried cause he doesn't have a lover. In order to remain peace with another kingdom he get to marry the princess. However, on the wedding night (after the ceromony) it gets revealed that not the princess of the kingdom was sent but the prince, Dream. In order to not embarrass himself they keep that secret. Oh yeah, also there's a twist! Not sure if this will be a happy ending or not!

A/B/O Dragon-Edition Techno works as a scientist in laboratory that expertices in dragonoids. Dragons that can turn human. When they get one of the rare male Omega dragons he get assigned to look after him. However, the dragon is aggressive and stronger than people thought. Soon it's revealed that Techno is also a Dragonoid and they try to find a way to safe the dragon, Dream. Most likely a happy ending and a shorter story!

Hybrids-AU Dream was an Enderdragon Hybrid, one of the rarest out there. Techno was a piglin Hybrid, rather common but great for illegal fightings. Both lived happily in Philza's village after being separated from their mothers. One day hunters came to pillage it and Techno lost his best friend. Years later he finds him again and has to hope that Dream remembers him Happy Ending planned!

Cat Café – AU Dream owns his own cat cafe at the corner of a small street. One day Techno finds his way in and falls for the cute owner. What Dream doesn't know it that Techno is the boss of a rather known and brutal gang and Techno didn't plan on telling him. Happy Ending or Bittersweet Ending planned!

Cardverse-AU Every few years new people were chosen to become the King, Queen and Jack of four different kingdoms. They are born with certain marks on their skin and would live in the castle to learn their duties. Each country – Spade, Hearts, Clubs and Diamonds – followed said rule and each King, Queen and Jack had their own powers. Techno was the king of Spade and grew up learning how to rule, his Queen wasn't found though. Until one day they brought him a blonde man who looked like a peasant. Not sure about the ending yet!

Dragon-Rider-AU Techno was a pure-born, both parents were Dragon Riders and obviously so was he. His grades in the academy proved that. Then there was Dream, a boy with a scholarship who had been picked up from the street, a dirtblood and – when you can trust rumors – a queer. He could never be a Rider and no dragon would choose him at the end of the first year. Or so Techno's friends said and he believed them but were proofen wrong. Meanwhile the evil kept rising to more power, wanting to get rid of non-purebloods Bittersweet Ending planned!

Futuristic-AU A serious of murders were happening in L'manberg and Techno was ordered to find out what happened. Sadly he met a certain Sexbot who seemed to have been programmed in a weird way, like he had actual characters and feelings. But he was a machine, but to Techno's misfortune he was needed to solve the case. Not Sure about the ending yet!

Dystopian Apocalypse Techno is undercover in one of the three Cities behind walls. They were built when the apocalypse started and monsters swarmed over the earth, infecting people and making them sick and turn into monsters of their own. Techno belongs to a rebellion that wants to make the walls fall so that not only rich snobs are safe. One day he gets ordered for protection to transport a possible cure that will only be used within the walls. His rebellion group attacks the escort and steal the cargo, but to their surprise there wasn't any medicine, but a human being (Dream). Now they have to figure out what to do with him. Not sure about the ending yet!

Hiraeth - Part 2 Can't say anything here due to spoiler, sorry! Except that it will be in Dream's POV! Happy Ending planned!

College-AU Techno is on Love with Dream, but Dream is on love with someone else. In order to forget him, Dream is willing to sleep with Techno and he accept it. With time more feelings happen and hearts get broken. Not sure about the ending yet, but lean towards happy ending! :]

Superhero-AU Dream works for the city, always. He really needs a break but due to being the most successful hero he rarely get one. His main enemy is Blood God who works witht he Syndicate in the hope of making the city fall. One day something happens that they need to work together, because hybrids kept vanishing and when one of Blood God's as well as Dream's friend vanish, they see no other option. (Dream eventually gets curropted here) Not sure about the ending yet!