#Joseph would never have been able to handle her as a niece

[blissfulalchemist]

Siberite 👑 (FFXIV) // Lizette 🌻 (FC5)

Clio 🏍 (TWC) // Tia 🏜 (Bloodlines)

Tagged by the lovelies: @confidentandgood @belorage @florbelles @dihardys @blackreaches @shellibisshe @indorilnerevarine @leviiackrman to make some ocs in this picrew so have the crop top club and one born too late girl. Tagging: @shallow-gravy @adelaidedrubman @strafethesesinners @heroofpenamstan @jackiesarch @chyrstis @themarcspector and anyone else that wants too!

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

A Letter from Home: Utivich x Fem!Reader

Requested by @jiejie-eonni-onee-sama

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tammykelly @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182 @marlenemarauders @what-the--curtains @taikawho @spookybearlandtaco

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

************** April, 1943 ************** The basterds had been a team and off the grid for nearly a year. Still, those months seemed like a lifetime, being so far from home, and without even a letter or phone call to make their days a little warmer. It had been a harsh winter, but the snow was clearing away now. In its place came the spring and its rains. The basterds missions were successes. Day in and day out, they were the best soldiers no one had heard of. They were changing that. Soon, the nazis would shake just from hearing their names. But, there was a name that Smithson Utivich had yet to hear, from a letter that was accepted only by fortune's hand. 

The boys were sneaking through a small town at the edge of France, where Aldo was receiving top secret documents from a nameless, faceless contact from the OSS. "Oh and uh," the agent held up a small envelope between his two fingers. It wasn't sealed anymore. It had been opened, its contents examined through lines of top agents, just to make sure it was safe. "This is for one of your boys. Utivich." Aldo raised an eyebrow. He didn't think they could get letters all the way out there. The agent nodded once, confirming the thought. "Just this once, lieutenant." Aldo nodded, and looked down at the papers in his hands. Men had been killed for that information. There was no indication that would stop. Before Aldo even had the chance to give the letter to Utivich, shots were fired. Nazis wanted those classified documents, and they were willing to do anything to get them. Smitty turned around, "O-OMAR!" But he wasn't quick enough. He wasn't able to push his friend out of the way before a bullet hit him. By the time it was all over, the basterds had been able to rush to one of their hideouts, and Wicki was able to stitch Omar up. Smitty was standing outside, under the rusty tin roof as water dripped from the roof, and the sun set behind the gloomy clouds. "Got sum' here for ya, son." He was startled at first, then confused. "A letter? But-" "I know, I know. Must be important," Aldo handed it over. Smitty studied it. There were blots of raindrops still drying out. It got a little crumpled up in all the commotion. And...it wasn't sealed, but he understood why. He turned it around, and his heart skipped a beat. He recognized that handwriting. It was from you... He loved you, and missed you with all his heart, but what could possibly have been so important that the OSS allowed him to get the letter? "What'cha got there?" Donny stepped outside, slicing up an apple with a pocketknife, followed by Hugo, Wicki, and Hirschberg. "It's a letter. It's from Y/n." "Y/n? Ain't that your girl?" Hirschberg chuckled as he pulled up a chair and sat, watching the rain slow and the night set in. Hugo frowned, not having received a letter from his wife, he wondered if the rules had changed. "Why'd you get a letter?" Wicki sighed, "Well, give the kid a chance to read it at least." He read it. He read every word as if it were the last thing he'd read. He could almost hear your voice. He missed it, more than he ever thought he could possibly miss anything. But, now he'd realize there was something else he missed. Something he didn't even expect. The letter was three months old by the time he got it.

"I'm..." "Well shit, son, si'down!" Aldo basically kicked Hirschberg off the single chair they owned, and carefully pulled the pale, panicky Utivich down. "C'mon! What's it say?!" Hirschberg at least wanted to know why he'd been kicked off the chair. Donny took the letter and skimmed it. "Fuck a duck..." But it wasn't the letter that had knocked Smitty down. It was the picture he was still looking at intently, trying to memorize every detail, the glimmering eyes, the smiles... He hadn't been able to breathe since he saw it. But he hadn't stopped smiling since. "That's your girl?" Hirschberg peeked over his shoulder, shocked that Smitty could do that well. "Hey cute kid! Wh....WAIT A MINUTE. IS THAT-" Smitty nodded, smiling, still in shock, "That's my son..." He never wanted to let go of that picture. He thought he only had one reason to go back home. Marrying you was something he'd dreamt of from the moment he met you, way back in high school. But now, he had two. His baby boy, and you. His name was Joseph, but you called him Joey. You had to name him on your own, and you hoped Smitty liked it. He couldn't wait to tell you he loved it. The basterds loved it too. Donny, frankly, was already planning on teaching the kid how to be the best damn batter anyone ever saw. Wicki laughed and said, "The kid's gotta learn how to walk first, you know." They didn't have champagne and cigars to celebrate, but rationed cigarettes and stolen beer was the best they could do. They didn't have something special to drink to very often, but this time, this letter, this photograph, was the exception. But to Utivich, it was more than that. Late that night, it was his turn to keep watch, and keep an eye on Omar. Smitty was standing by the entrance, gun at the ready in one hand, but his eyes, and mind on the picture in his other hand. "Smitty?" He cleared his throat and quickly slipped the picture into his chest pocket. "Sarge?" "You're uh, gonna have to stay awake plenty now that you and the missus got a kid at home. I'll take over." "Ah, Donny, you don't have to. I uh.." "Hey, what's the matter, kid?" Donny frowned as he sat by his friend. "I uh," Utivich shook his head, "I just never seem to be where I need to be." "Hey, kid," Donny sighed, and set his hand on Smitty's shoulder, "Don't worry 'bout Omar. He's fine. These things happen." Donny knew Smitty had a lot to think about in a single day. He was sure Smitty was worrying about you, how you'd handled it all alone. Donny had a niece, and he remembered how worried his sister was, "Hey, I mean...From what you told us about Y/n, she's doin' fine. Her and Joey are safe cause of guys like you, alright? You'll be home some day." Smitty nodded, wondering when some day would come. ******** 1945 ******** The basterds got their medals of honor. After all this time, it felt strange to go their ways, but it was still a wonder they made it so far. Utivich ran to you the moment he saw you. He held on tight for what seemed like forever. When he finally did pull away, he opened his eyes, and saw the face of his son for the first time. You were holding Joey, he was two years old now. He was a shy kid, maybe even a little scared. All the fireworks, all the photographers' flashes of lights, all the crowds probably played a part. When Joey cried, it broke Smitty's heart. "Hey, " Smitty thought he'd cry himself for a moment, "Hey Joey..." Your son looked up at his father for the first time.  "It's ok, Joey..." Smitty let go of you slowly, and wrapped his arms around his boy for the first time, and picked him up. Joey stopped crying, and even smiled after a bit. He recognized the man in the uniform. He'd seen the picture every day, after all. It was the only picture of Smitty in uniform that you had. It was by the radio in the livingroom where you and Joey sat in, every evening. He didn’t pay attention much, but you listened carefully for any signs or clues about Smitty’s whereabouts.   "Dad!" That was when it hit Utivich. He teared up a little, his hug got a little tighter. He glanced at you, and murmured, "I'm a dad..." You nodded, as you held Smitty and Joey. Your cheek rested on Smitty's, "You're a dad." By the time you flew home, it was well past Joey's bedtime. Smitty put his duffel bag on the ground of the apartment he'd never been in. It was the place you and Joey had called home for two years. It was small, but it was enough. Utivich looked around, having dreamed of marrying you, bringing you to a big house. Things didn't go exactly his way, but for now, this was more than enough. He'd sleep in a real bed. He was surrounded by family, not enemies. He wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night to an alarm and boots on the ground, but you did give him a fair warning that Joey was an early bird, and would probably waltz into the room along with the sun. Smitty was ok with that. Still, he only watched you give Joey some juice, give him a bath, and help him into his pajamas, and tell him a story. Smitty felt like he was behind a mirror, far from you and Joey. He worried for a moment that there really was no place for him. As he settled back into life outside of war, that feeling would chase him. After some time, he'd realize only you and Joey could help him outrun it. "Smitty?" He snapped out of it, and looked at you. You recognized those eyes, though they were clouded with worries that were unfamiliar to you. You walked toward him, your hand rested on his cheek, and he felt his heart slow down for the first time since he was deployed. He took a breath, and your kind smile warmed his heart as you whispered, "Joey wants you to tell him a story." "M-me?" You took his hands in yours, and laughed as you reassured him, "He's getting a little bored with mine!" Smitty laughed as he sat by Joey, "Boring? Your mama? Never!" Joey smiled a little, though he wasn't very talkative with Smitty yet. "Once upon a time, there was a group of friends who went on adventures, and saved the world. There was a bear, a little man, an Apache, and-" As he told his son a story, Joey's eyes lit up, he smiled, and then the long hours reeled him in and carried him off to sleep. You kissed Smitty on the forehead, "You did it." He nodded, though you could tell he still nervous when you both stood at the door. Smitty was an only child, he never really had younger cousins to look after either. Taking care of a kid was brand new to him. And on top of that, after the war, after all the blood and the scalps, he didn't know if he could really handle something so small, so fragile. "I haven't been where I needed to be, Y/n. I'm sorry." "No, no..." You shook your head, and held him. "You have always been where you had to be." Your hands rested on the side of his face, and he sighed with a soft smile. Your hand rested on his chest, over his medal of honor, "If you weren't, the war might not even be over now. But it is. It's all over now. You're here... you're home." "Home..." He smiled, and he meant it. He hadn't seen you in years, and he'd never known his son. He knew what he did in France changed history, but his story would never have been the same without you. You and Joey were the only reason he was still alive. He'd never been in that apartment before, but he'd seen you and Joey in his dreams every night. Wherever you were, it was the place he'd call home. And now, as he kissed you, he knew he was exactly where he needed to be.

[ma-sulevin]

Chapter two is here! I did say it’s a slow burn, right?

Pairing: Sharky Boshaw/Female Deputy Rating: E, but mostly for swearing Warnings: Canon-typical violence, but nothing particularly explicit I don’t think Word Count: 4717, chapter two of twelve

Read it on AO3 instead and say nice things.

---

She hasn’t spent any significant time in the Whitetails since moving to Hope County. The area is -- was -- mostly controlled by a handful of park rangers with the deputies only called in for the occasional problem too big for the rangers to handle, and Mattie hadn’t had enough time off to make camping in the mountains worth it.

It is beautiful, though. If she hadn’t been walking through the woods on the side of the road in someone else’s shoes, she’d be happy to be up here, maybe looking forward to a three-day weekend to relax after a hard few weeks at work.

Now she’s had a hard week and no rest in sight. She’s had the hardest week and no rest in sight, the evening she spent passed out in the abandoned trailer notwithstanding.

She and Boomer fall back into their habits from Holland Valley, sneaking through the trees that line the road and hiding from pickups carrying a handful of peggies to whatever peggie business they have to get up to, mostly staying out of trouble even after stealing another little car that had been left abandoned on the side of the winding mountain road.

When hunger makes itself known and jerky and old granola bars won’t cut it, she stops at the dock to poke around. She finds a fishing pole, like she hoped she would, and spends a couple hours fishing from the end of the pier with Boomer sleeping at her feet. It’s almost peaceful, if she ignores the occasional helicopter flying overhead and the occasional fast pop pop pop of automatic gunfire from deeper in the mountains.

She catches two salmon and cooks them over a fire, eating one and giving the second to Boomer when she can’t finish it. She curls up inside the boathouse and falls asleep to the gentle lapping of the water and Boomer’s heat against her back.

When she wakes with a pain low in her belly, she’s afraid for half a second she’s given herself food poisoning until she remembers how long it’s been since the last time she woke up with pain low in her belly (29 days, maybe 28, the dying has made it a little confusing) and then she’s sneaking to the closest gas station to see if she can loot any Tampax, guilt at taking from dead shop owners long forgotten.

Dutch passes along a mayday from the FANG Center while she’s drinking a warm Gatorade and waiting for her stolen Advil to kick in, a message from a man she hasn’t met because she never bothered to go see the local attraction, and she heads that way as directly as she dares. Boomer seems excited by the direction they’re going, sniffing the ground with his tail going fast enough to blur as soon as she abandons the car.

Boomer hears it first, head tilting first to one side then the other in adorable canine confusion. After careful consideration, he takes off at speed, leaving Mattie to just curse and follow him, pistol in hand, head low.

She recognizes Staci’s voice before she recognizes his words, and she freezes in place even though none of the peggies are looking even in her general direction, cold horror slithering up her spine and lodging deep, deep in her brain.

“I never wanted any of this to happen. I was brought here under false pre-- pretenses and fed lies about Joseph Seed and his family.”

He stumbles over his words. She’s never, ever heard him sound like that. She’s heard him slurring his words, drunk out of his mind; she’s heard him crying, mourning the loss of a lover; she’s heard him happy and tired and cocky and being a general little shit.

She’s never, ever heard him sound so… broken.

“Oh, Staci.”

She kills every peggie in the FANG Center without a moment of hesitation, without a moment of guilt. She punches a white wolf in the face when it bites her weapon hand, then shoots it between the eyes.

She doesn’t feel bad about that either.

She doesn’t die once.

---

Boomer and Cheeseburger get along better than she was expecting. They took a minute to sniff each other once the last of Jacob’s men died under their combined efforts, then Boomer licked the bear’s face and they took off running together.

She accepts having a bear as a companion (she can’t think of Cheeseburger as a pet, despite the collar and the way he asks for belly rubs) easier than she would have before Everything Went to Shit, and it’s nice having him around to chase off wild animals and keep her warm as the nights turn cold.

She doesn’t even mind when Dutch radios her again and tells her his niece is in trouble at the lumber mill, just heads over that way as soon as she finishes the rabbit she managed to catch and skin for lunch.

She hasn’t been to the lumber mill either, doesn’t quite judge its location right on her map, and she sees it from the top of a hill to the west. She sits on the rocks and watches through her pilfered binoculars for a while, watching the peggies walking around and listening to some bullshit about culling the herd playing over the speakers.

She’ll have to knock those out first. She’s already tired of his voice.

In the end, she’s happy she has Cheeseburger with her. Almost no one notices her sneaking around to kill the alarms when there’s a fucking bear roaring on the other side of the compound. She only has to snap one guy’s neck and gets two more from farther away with her sniper rifle and then… she’s done, the lumber mill is out of the cult’s hands and she’s able to walk around letting people out of the cages they’d been put in.

People.

In cages .

She doesn’t even feel bad for the lives she took. They fucking deserved it.

She wasn’t expecting to round the corner and run right into Jess Black, wasn’t expecting to find such an angry woman staring back at her, wasn’t expecting to suddenly find herself tongue tied and in the middle of what her college friends had called gay panic, but she did and she is and that’s the only thing she actually feels guilty about, especially when Jess starts explaining about the Cook and delves right into a thinly veiled story about her own life.

Mattie decides not to ask Jess about the scars, just follows her silently through the Whitetails, killing peggies and liberating normal people who should never have been put through what they’ve been put through. She tries not to show it outwardly, but Jess’ description of how human meat smells like pork makes her stomach turn.

She silently resolves never to eat pork again.

She doesn’t feel bad for killing the Cook, not even when Cheeseburger rushes in at the last minute and bites the man’s throat out.

Man? He’s a monster . He’s as much of a monster as Joseph and his siblings.

Jess looks miserable when she says, “I thought I’d feel better. Dutch was right.”

Mattie’s instinct is to reach out a comforting hand, it always has been, even when she was little. Joey and Staci had teased her relentlessly about her need for human contact, how she was always in their personal space, but when she took their words to heart and tried to hold back… they’d complained. They liked it.

Jess doesn’t. She steps away, offers to help fight back against Jacob whenever Mattie needs her, then… she leaves.

As soon as Mattie’s alone, an unfamiliar voice crackles over her radio. 

“There's someone out there pretending to be a soldier. They are killing our brothers and sisters and putting this project in jeopardy . ”

Mattie stares up at the paint on the exposed side of the mountain that says SACRIFICE THE WEAK and makes a face. She wonders if Jacob can see her, if he waited for her to be alone specifically to harass her with his unique brand of Seed bullshit.

“I want this coward to know they have my attention.”

“That’s me,” Mattie mutters, a half smile on her face despite everything. Boomer blinks up at her and lolls is tongue out; she scratches him behind his ear to thank him for laughing at her joke.

“My hunters are coming for you,” Jacob continues, heedless of her interruption. “There's nowhere you can run.”

Her radio clicks as he signs off.

Okay?

She’s still rifling through the pockets of the dead peggies for cash when a sharp pain lances up her leg and she looks down to see a whole-ass arrow sticking out of her thigh. She barely has time to wrap her fingers around the shaft when her vision sparks around the edges and she collapses.

Fuckin’ bliss.

---

She wakes up again tied  to a chair, groggy, nauseated, with pain radiating up from the arrow wound in her leg and the still-healing bite mark on her wrist. Wherever she is absolutely stinks, it smells like piss and sweat, and she’s coughing and gagging before she realizes it.

A cold hand touches her face, briefly, a caress of familiarity that’s gone before she can fully register it. It calms her down though, no threat in it, and she blinks her eyes open to see Staci standing in front of her.

For half a second she thinks he’s untying her, but…

No.

He’s making sure her bonds are secure.

“You shouldn’t have come for me,” he says, and what the fuck does that mean, of course she was going to come for him, was she supposed to let him stay up here by himself? After what she heard at the FANG Center?

His face is bruised and bloody, and part of the smell in the room is coming from him, and she doesn’t really want to cry right now but the residual bliss in her system is making that hard. He looks like he’s been beaten within an inch of his life, and if it wasn’t for the look of absolute sorrow in his eyes, she’d be convinced he fully abandoned the county in favor of the cult.

“You should have run.” He tightens the rope holding her left hand down so much that her fingers start to tingle, blood cut off, and then he looks over her shoulder and scurries away.

The light in the room goes off, something clicks beside her, and there’s a picture of a dead deer on the wall.

Jacob Seed starts in on his bullshit again, about how the world is weak and soft. There are two other people in the room with her, tied to other chairs, staring at the wall as the deer becomes a wolf and Jacob walks into view.

She jerks in her chair like she’ll be able to kill him right now, and… oh, that’s probably why her ropes are so goddamn tight.

Jacob stands in front of the room, looking for all the world like a college professor on the first day of class, and Staci stands on the other side of the screen like the world’s unhappiest TA.

She’s not watching the slides as they click from one photo of wolves to the next (and, okay, fucking slides? A slide projector? Is this the 70s? What the fuck?); instead, she stares at her friend. He stares right back, hands clasped together in front of the belt buckle he was so proud of, shoulders bowed.

She mouths his name. He shakes his head imperceptibly.

Jacob notices anyway and makes his way to her with steady steps, not pausing in his lecture. This is not the first time he’s given this lecture, in this room, in front of this slideshow.

He leans down so his face is level with hers, rests his weight with his hands on the arms of her chair, fingers bruising over her wrists. If he was any closer, she could headbutt him. She’d probably die for it, but at least she’d go down breaking his nose. He doesn’t move closer.

“The Collapse is upon us,” he says, and he says it just like that, like the C should be capitalized, like it’s the name of an event that will change the whole world. “And this time, the lives of the few outweigh the lives of the many.” She tries to kick at him, an aborted movement that lets her know her ankles are tied up too. His eyebrow quirks in what might be amusement, but it doesn’t break his concentration. “And when a nation that’s never known hunger or desperation descends into madness… we’ll be ready.”

Fuck him and his high horse. God damn fucking fuckface.

There must still be bliss in his system, or she’d be saying all this outloud. Consequences be damned.

Jacob stands and picks something up, winding it up in his hands. “We will cull the herd. We will do what needs to be done.”

He opens what turns out to be a music box and she fucking loses it. It hurts. It hurts more than the arrow and more than the bite and she howls with it, her head splitting apart. She loses Staci, she loses Jacob, she loses her own goddamn self.

What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the f

She’d prefer falling into the painful black-white-red that comes after she dies than this , that same song playing, Jacob’s voice crooning in her ear every time she clears a room, killing militia member after militia member in an attempt to escape the hotel.

Why are they attacking her?

Is that Pratt’s voice saying cull the herd I’m gonna fucking cull him what the fuck what the fuck what th

---

She’s still tied to the chair when she wakes up, but she’s tipped over on her side like she’s fallen over. There are two other bodies, also tied to chairs, and she wants to call for help but her throat is raw. 

Someone’s checking the bodies. Someone’s checking her body, wholly convinced she’s already dead, and he’s so startled to see her looking back at him that he drops her and her already aching head cracks against the floor again.

She’d swear, but she’s too tired.

She passes out as soon as it’s convenient and lets the men carry her wherever they want.

Who the fuck cares.

---

She leaves the Wolf’s Den as soon as she’s able to walk around without feeling like she’s going to faint. Jacob didn’t have her in the cage for that long, but she was running on not enough food anyway. The extra couple days of starvation made her feel… awful.

She’s still waking up with Staci’s face behind her eyes but she doesn’t know what she can do about it.

She needs more help.

She turns east as soon as she can, heading back toward the center of the county, maybe towards Faith’s region. She’s heard there are some survivors over at the jail, maybe she can get some of them to help her fight Jacob?

Christ. She needs someone who’s better at strategy than she is.

She’s been an adult for years but she’s still not ready for this.

She gets a somewhat frantic call on her radio as she gets closer to the eastern edge of Jacob’s region, has to slow her liberated ATV to a stop before she can really make out the words over the staticky line. Once she parses out the message, she almost turns her radio off and keeps heading for the bridge. Dealing with anything coming from Hurk Jr. is going to involve dealing with Hurk Sr., and she’s not sure she’s emotionally ready to handle the Drubmans today.

Boomer whines, though, panting by her side, and she figures that at least helping Hurk will earn her enough favor to borrow a car, or something. She’s been to the property before, and they have more than enough to spare one.

She scratches Boomer’s ears and adjusts her course, heading for the (very nice) house on the lake. It’s beautiful, too beautiful for someone like Mr. Drubman with his general shittiness to deserve, but she pulls into the drive anyway and steels herself for whatever’s about to happen.

She’s survived this far, right?

---

Okay, so liberating a modified campaign vehicle wasn’t really what she was expecting, and Mr. Drubman is exactly as awful as she remembers him being, but Hurk is so goddamn cheerful that she can’t bear to tell him to stay behind with his dad. Even his stories of traveling in India are sort of uplifting instead of irritating, and so she drives the campaign car and lets Hurk sit shotgun while Boomer stretches out across the backseat.

There’s a roadblock at the bridge leading from the Whitetails into the Henbane, but there’s enough of a space between two of the trucks that she doesn’t hesitate to push the accelerator to the floor and fly right through it, ignoring the screams and bullets whizzing past them, laughing along with Hurk when he starts cheering.

He tosses a grenade out the window back toward them and whoops from the moment it lands (miraculously) square in the middle of the bed of bliss flowers to the moment it explodes, taking the flowers and the truck and at least one cultist with it.

“That was fuckin’ awesome, I tell you what.” He grins at her as he hauls himself fully inside the car and settles heavily in the passenger seat. “Those assholes deserved it, too, trying to take those fuckin’ flowers over the river.”

Mattie eases off the accelerator when no more peggies appear in front of her, dares to take one hand off the wheel to turn the oldies station on low. “That was a great toss. I might need you to give me lessons; most of the time I throw something, it goes pretty wide.”

“Oh, man, well, mostly it was a lucky shot, I guess,” he says, apparently embarrassed, but when she glances over at him he’s absolutely preening under her compliment. “I can try to help though; we can probably find some baseballs or rocks or somethin’ that are about the right size for you to practice with, when the peggies are leavin’ us alone at least.”

She nods at him and rests her right hand on the gear shift, fingernails tapping to the beat of the music. “I haven’t done anything to Faith yet, so hopefully they won’t know me as well over here. Seemed like I couldn’t get anything done in the Whitetails without tripping over some of Jacob’s Chosen.”

“Sure, sure. You just gotta look out for the bliss fields over--”

Mattie’s radio squawks to life and cuts Hurk off mid-warning, shutting him up almost as effectively as the hand she holds up to silence him.

“ It’s Adelaide at the marina, honey, ” says the voice, and Hurk lights up with recognition. “ The peggies are all over us! I don’t know how long we can keep these sonuvabitches out! ”

The transmission clicks off. Mattie and Hurk sit silently, the only sound the low rumble of the engine and the almost too-quiet music coming from the car’s speaker, and then they both burst into action at the same time.

“Holy chimpanzee butts, they’ve got Mama’s marina too!” Hurk sounds a little panicked, leaning forward to grab the dashboard as Mattie grabs the steering wheel with both hands and accelerates again. “Deputy, we’ve gotta do something. We’re almost there, it’s just--” He points straight ahead, then to the right, then waves his hand helplessly. “We gotta help her!”

“It’ll be okay, Hurk,” Mattie says, already settling down into that headspace she’s created since Dutch pushed her out of his bunker, the one that lets her kill without remorse and jump into situations she shouldn’t, just because she’ll wake back up before them if something does go wrong.

Their smiles are gone.

Hurk switches off the radio.

The drive really is short, just a few more minutes and they round the last curve before the marina comes into view. Mattie’s been here once or twice, always on official business, but she’s been wanting to come out once Adelaide finishes the cabins she’s building on the property. That might not happen now, but Mattie refuses to think about it.

Now’s not the time.

She parks the car a little ways away, just off the side of the road, and climbs out. Boomer jumps from the back when she opens the door, and they meet Hurk up at the front. He’s holding a RAT4 over one shoulder and, while Mattie’s not sure that’s the best weapon for close combat, she can’t bring herself to care. Her 1911 is on her hip, her knife is on her thigh, and her AR-C is in her hands. 

This is as good as it’s gonna get.

“If you keep an eye on Boomer, he’ll let you know where peggies are hiding. Otherwise, good luck, don’t get shot, try to take out the radio towers before they call for backup, because that’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Cool, cool, very cool, man,” he says, basically bouncing in his eagerness to run ahead. “Can we, uh…” He trails off, eager but polite, and Mattie nods at him. He takes off, running straight ahead without any sort of subtlety -- but what was she expecting, really? -- and she takes the opportunity created by his distraction to sneak around the other side to yank some wires out of the radio towers set up to broadcast both Faith’s music and instructions from outpost to outpost.

The first thing Hurk makes explode earns him the attention of every goddamn peggie in the area, so she breaks the first radio without anyone noticing her, and the second radio is broken after only killing one peggie with a clean shot through the skull before he manages to get his fingers all the way around the mouthpiece.

It’s disgusting how easy killing is now. She doesn’t even flinch when she has to touch the splashes of blood on the radio to disable it. 

She hates what she’s become.

Almost the second the last peggie falls, the marina starts spinning around her, a sickening case of vertigo that has her leaning against the closest fence rail for support. A breeze tickles her face, pushing sweaty hair back from her forehead and cheeks, and it almost feels like a caress.

“I see you searching. Oh, you look lost.”

She sinks to the ground, still holding onto the post, as a woman’s voice she doesn’t know rings in her ears. She wobbles but doesn’t fall, twisting to see who’s speaking to her -- it doesn’t sound like Adelaide, doesn’t sound like anyone in particular, but… 

“When I was younger, I spent years searching. I was a rat in a maze always chasing the same rancid cheese. The Father was the first person to help me realize there’s a life beyond the maze.”

No. No. It can’t be… Faith?

“Hey, Deputy, buddy, I want you to meet my mama!” Hurk’s voice, always too loud, cuts over whatever Faith is saying, making the ringing in Mattie’s ears get louder as the vertigo spins faster. “She’s the best real estate agent in the whole county, probably the world, and -- hey, you okay, man?”

“Are you hurt, honey?” Okay, that’s Adelaide’s voice, closer than Hurk’s, close enough for cool hands to cup her face. Mattie lets her turn her face from side to side but doesn’t open her eyes, still hearing Faith’s voice under everyone else’s overlapping chatter. “Hurk, baby, help Xander get the Deputy to the office so she can sit down. I don’t think she’s bleeding, but we need to check her out.”

Two pairs of hands grip Mattie’s forearms, lifting her to her feet and then slightly higher so she doesn’t have to bear her own weight. She struggles a bit, then more as Faith’s voice drifts away and her head starts to really clear.

“ ‘m fine, I swear,” Mattie says, then repeats herself in a firmer, more official tone once the world is done spinning and she’s reasonably sure she won’t throw up if she has to move under her own power. “Hey, I said I’m fine , I just got dizzy.”

The boys don’t listen until she’s safely deposited in Adelaide’s desk chair, though, not until she has a glass of water in her hand and Adelaide’s full attention. Adelaide is sitting on the edge of her desk, one booted food resting on the chair by Mattie’s thigh, her hands pushing Mattie’s hair out of her face once more.

“You look like you just got blissed, honey,” she says, not without sympathy. “You sure you’re okay?”

She feels like she’s been blissed. She must have been blissed, because what else would explain fucking hallucinating Faith’s voice in the middle of Drubman Marina?

Maybe this whole goddamn thing has been one big bliss hallucination. Maybe she and the rest of the officers got dosed trying to leave Joseph’s compound, and none of this is really happening, and she’ll wake up completely fine soon. She’s pretty sure her insurance covers mental healthcare.

That’s kind of the ideal scenario, here.

“I’m fine, promise. Probably just got grazed by a bliss bullet, or something. That stuff always makes me feel sick.”

Adelaide nods. “Good, because those peggie shitbirds took my Tulip.”

“Your what now?”

“Mama’s helicopter!” Hurk is back in her space, bumping up against Adelaide and resting his cheek against her shoulder while she pats at him absently. “She’s the best helicopter pilot in the County.”

Mattie blinks at them both, silently adding up what Hurk has said about Adelaide. So far, he’s said she’s the best realtor and the best helicopter pilot in Hope County, but she’s getting the suspicion that Hurk would say Adelaide’s the best anything she tries to do.

“She’s the nimblest goddamn bird this side of Montana, and I’ll be goddamned if those fucktrumpets are going to take her from me. I won that bird in my divorce fair and square!”

Mattie blinks again and listens silently as Adelaide finishes explaining the problem (track down her helicopter out of three options, don’t crash it, kill the pilot) with Hurk hanging off her every word. This is slightly more in line with her technical job role, something she’d be expected to do as deputy regardless of the cult situation -- they’d probably send her out with Pratt to track it down, and Pratt would leave her alone in the cruiser so he could fly it back to the marina. He’d come back to the station and complain about Adelaide flirting with him and Joey would say he should take her up on it because no one else wants in his pants.

Christ. Shit. Joey’s locked up tight in John’s bunker, unwillingly the star of some fuckin’ creepy commercials. Staci’s up in Jacob’s compound, brainwashed and barely hanging on. Burke is with Faith, probably, blissed out of his mind, and who the fuck knows where Earl is. 

And what’s she doing? Sitting in a comfy chair in the marina, like she’s on a vacation, resting on her ass while they’re fighting to stay alive.

“I’ll see what I can do about your helicopter, ma’am,” she says. She tries to stand, too, puts the water down on the desk and pushes up on the arms of the chair, but Adelaide gives her a sharp look and clucks her tongue.

“You don’t have to go right now, honey,” she says, sounding absolutely motherly for once instead of flirtatious bordering on sexual harassment. “It’s late, you should sleep here for the night. Let me, let me get Xander to make you something to eat, okay, sweetheart?”

Mattie wants to say no, wants to move as fast as she can to save as many people as she can, but… the temptation of food is too much, and she gives in before she can do more than draw a deep breath to argue.

She’s so tired.

[jrubalcaba]

Good Night, Sleep Tight - A CHFIL/SlayerSoldier series crossover story

Good Night, Sleep Tight - A CHFIL/SlayerSoldier series crossover story

author: jrubalcaba

warnings: none except seeing superheroes in tears

rating: so fluffly it’ll rot your teeth. oh, mentions of smut, but no actual smut.

words: 3876

I hope you guys all enjoy this. I certainly enjoyed writing it!

“But I don't wanna go to bed!” Evie heard Robby whine as Steve carried him and Sarah upstairs, one under each arm. She looked over her shoulder and laughed as her mini-me started to kick and scratch at his dad, trying his best to get away.

“Robert, it's time for bed. End of discussion,” Steve snapped. He was still irritated from bath time when the kids decided to see who could make the biggest waves and soaked the entire bathroom, Steve included.

Normally Evie did both bath and bedtime, but since their fight, Steve has been doing every little thing around the house so Evie could relax more. He felt guilty for slacking off on his daddy duty, hence why he was wet, but not in a good way.

Evie sighed as she continued reading her book, when a wild Robby appeared, running through the house towards the Barnes’ side. A streak of pink with blonde on top raced by after as Sarah chased her brother.

“Man, those two are fast,” Steve panted as he entered the living room. Evie grinned.

“Just like their dad,” she replied. He rolled his eyes.

“How do you handle them both every night?” he asked, clearly at his wit's end. She giggled.

“Awww, what's wrong? Can Captain America not keep up with his two demons, I mean, darlings?” she teased with a wink. He sighed.

“Yes I can, but they're just so…..” he trailed off.

“Stubborn? Gee, I wonder where they got that from.” Evie smiled at her husband, laughing when he went Sad Faced at her comment. “We have a routine. I noticed that you get restless when your own bedtime routine gets messed up, so I got them into their own and it works wonders.” Steve's jaw had dropped, as she had neglected to mention that little detail to him.

“Well, you need to tell me more about it so I can do it too,” he snapped at her. She mulled it over for a bit.

“I guess I could,” she answered. Suddenly, voices in the hallway caught their attention as Alice and Bucky walked in, looking unamused.

“Can someone explain why the twins interrupted Becca's bedtime story, just to say goodnight?” Bucky asked, clearly pissed. Evie grinned at Steve.

“Well, Daddy is in charge of bath and bedtime, but it looks like fighting off bad guys is so much easier than putting his kids to bed,” she teased, causing him to roll his eyes again.

“Okay, I'll admit that I slacked off a lot, but this is hard work,” he said in defense. Evie scoffed.

“Yeah, if you haven't done it every night for the past five years.” Becca was tugging her parents forward more and more as the adults talked.

“Momma! I wanna say goodnight to everyone too, just like Robby and Sarah!” she whined impatiently. All three adults looked around in confusion while Evie's eyes grew wide.

“Ohhhh boy,” was all she said before following her niece upstairs, the other three right behind her. Once they all made it to Robby's room, they stopped at the sight that met them.

The three kids were standing at the wall that Robby had dedicated to all the heroes in his life, each of them replicated in action figures that may or may not have been commissioned especially for him.

“Look! Daddy and uncle Steve!” Becca cried as she saw the two figures (Robby refused to call them dolls) on the nightstand. The Steve one was identical to the real Steve, right down to the beard that covered his face. The Bucky one was also identical to the real Bucky, complete with fully movable Vibranium arm (that was specially made in Wakanda).

“Well, duh. Those two are the best, so of course they're gonna be right next to my bed, Becca!” Robby said snottily. Evie and Alice looked to their husbands and saw them both tear up at being called ‘the best’ by their son/nephew.

“That is adorable, but what did Becca mean when she said ‘say goodnight to everyone’?” Alice asked quietly. Evie turned to her and grinned.

“I think it's best if you three each take a kid and find out,” she replied. Each of them shot her a puzzled look as they walked into the room and Steve picked up Robby, Bucky took Becca, and Alice got Sarah. Robby reached up and grabbed the Ironman figure.

“Good night Uncle Tony,” he said, kissing and hugging it before handing it to Becca. “Good night Aunt Pepper. Good night Big Papa Howard and Big Mama Maria in the sky,” he added, tilting his head back and speaking to the ceiling. As if on cue, Steve, Bucky, and Alice all looked over at Evie, jaws dropped in shock and awe.

Something Evie caught on camera, as she was finally able to record Robby doing this.

One by one, each figurine was taken down, told ‘goodnight’ three times, and given three hugs and three kisses before being put back. What was even sweeter was the fact that each one was called by their real name, not their superhero one. Those who were deceased also got told goodnight, affectionately called ‘Uncle Pietro’, ‘Big Uncle Yondu’, ‘Big Uncle Odin’, ‘Big Auntie Frigga’, all the ‘Auntie Valkyries’, ‘Big Uncle T'Chaka’, ‘Big Uncle Ben’, ‘Big Grandma Sarah’, ‘Big Grandpa Joseph’, ‘Big Grandma Winifred’, ‘Big Grandpa George’, ‘Big Grandma Elizabeth’, ‘Big Grandpa Kevin’, ‘Big Auntie Becca’, and ‘Big Auntie Maggie’.

After all the figurines were placed back in their holders, the kids all squirmed down from their adults and ran to the nightstand. Robby grabbed the picture frame from it and began to kiss each person in the picture, telling Uncle Simon, Auntie Maggie, Auntie Kerry, Cousin Riley, Auntie Gail, and Cousin T'Zari goodnight before handing it to Becca and Sarah, who did the same.

Once everyone had been told goodnight, the kids each hugged Steve, Bucky, and Alice, bidding them goodnight as well, hugging and kissing them extra hard before running to Evie and doing the same thing. Once Robby was tucked in bed, the two girls and four adults left the room, and Evie made sure to capture the tears on her husband, sister and brother-in-law’s faces as their parents had been included by their children.

Out in the hallway, Evie downloaded the video to FRIDAY's server before sending it to every member of the Team, all of the Defenders, to Wakanda, and to the Benatar, wherever the hell it was.

After Sarah was tucked in and the Barnes family left, she and Steve laid down for bed. Steve was silent for quite some time before he finally spoke, his voice cracking.

“You told them?” was all he said, to which she nodded.

“Of course. Sarah wanted to know who she was named after, so I sat them both down and told them about your parents, Bucky's and Alice's. Then, they wanted to know why T'Challa's daddy wasn't here but his mommy was, and they wondered about Thor and Loki's mommy and daddy, so I just explained everything to them. They took it all in, eager eyes and everything.” Steve was silent again for a while.

“Howard and Maria?” That was the trickier thing to explain.

“They know that a guy who looks like Uncle Bucky hurt Howard and Maria and made them go to sleep forever, and that's why Uncle Tony isn't very good friends with Uncle Bucky.” Steve stared at her for what seemed like hours before speaking.

“That's….probably the best way you could have explained it. Good job,” he said, squeezing her.

“Thanks. Those kids are so much smarter than you think. Robby knew we were having that fight, and he understood that Daddy had said some things that hurt Mommy, but didn't mean to. That being said, I don't think the concept of brainwashing is something a five-year-old would understand, but I could be wrong. I'd much rather wait to explain it to them properly until they're older.” Steve nodded in agreement before snuggling into Evie's side and they both fell asleep.

***********

Shuri pulled up the video file from Evie and read the accompanying text. She then went to find her brother, sister-in-law, nephew, mother, and Okoye to show them as well.

“This is a video that I just received from Evie, and this is what she wrote: To brighten your day and to show how much you mean to us.” She then played the video for them.

“Okoye, are you crying?” T'Challa asked incredulously after the video was done.

“Absolutely not. I just have...something in my eye.” The General wiped her eyes as she turned away. Gail giggled.

“Oh, I must tell Evie and Alice that,” she said before pulling out her phone and sending a message to them.

“It is good to know that we are never forgotten by our friends,” T'Challa said as he hugged her.

“Mama! Tell my cousins I say good morning to them!” T'Zari exclaimed brightly.

“Of course my darling,” she cooed as she sent yet another text overseas. “That did brighten our day.” They continued through the palace, wanting to spend the day together.

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

“Hey assholes, we gotta incoming message from Terra,” Quill shouted over his shoulder to his fellow Guardians. Groot, Rocket, Drax, Mantis, Gamora, and Nebula all joined him at the holoscreen and read the text.

“‘To brighten your day and to show how much you mean to us’? What the hell is that suppose ta mean?” Rocket grumbled. Quill shrugged.

“How would something brighten our day? Is it a light of some sort?” Drax asked.

“I am Groot,” came a reply from the back.

“Peter, just play the video,” Gamora sighed.

“Alright. Oh, it looks like it's from Evie, Captain America's wife.” At this, Rocket perked up.

“She gives the best head scratches,” he said with a longing sigh.

They all chuckled as the video began to play. Once they saw Robby grab the Quill figurine and hug and kiss it so tenderly, they all began to tear up as their own were given the same loving treatment. Quill burst into tears as Yondu was also told good night, as it had been years since the man had died.

“That was...the cutest thing I've ever seen,” Gamora said softly after the video was over.

“I am Groot,”  Groot said, wiping what looked like tree sap from his eyes.

“I've never been called Auntie before,” Nebula said quietly from the corner. Gamora walked over and hugged her.

“Me neither. It felt pretty good too.” Loud sniffles were coming from Rocket and Peter, who both appeared to try and hide their emotions.

“Who do those little gargoyles think they are, calling us all ‘Uncle’ and ‘Auntie’ like we're all some big family?” Rocket grumbled angrily as he wiped tears away. Gamora scratched his head and he turned away, walking to the sleeping quarters muttering about ‘family and how it felt good to have one’.

“I can't believe they remembered Yondu,” Quill stammered as he cried. Gamora came to comfort him too, patting his back.

“How did that brighten our day? All that did was make me feel happy,” Drax said from right next to them.

“It made your day better, right? Well on Terra, ‘brighten your day’ means ‘make your day better’,” Quill explained, his voice muffled as he cried into Gamora's shoulder.

“Oh. Well, then yes, that did brighten our day,” Drax said loudly as he too walked to the sleeping quarters.

The rest of the Guardians all stood in silence as they came to terms that they had a family again, after losing their own so long ago.

***********

“Sam! Come see what Evie just sent us!” Kerry called from their room. A few moments later Sam walked in, ready for bed.

“What is it?” he asked, kissing her sweetly.

“It's a video to ‘brighten our day’,” she replied, pressing play. They watched it in silence, both of them tearing up when they and their unborn baby boy were mentioned.

“Oh my god. That is the cutest fecking thing I've ever seen,” Kerry said shakily once the video was done. Sam nodded, unable to speak.

“It's good to know Riley is already so loved before he officially gets here,” he said after a while. The expectant parents snuggled in bed, smiles on their faces as they fell asleep.

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

“Hey everyone, Evie just sent us a video. Let's watch it!” Peter called through the Compound. The Team assembled in the common room, ready to watch. FRIDAY began to play it, and Tony was a mess within the first five minutes, unashamedly sobbing into Rhodey's shoulder as his parents were so affectionately wished goodnight.

Thor and Loki were the next to choke up as their mother and father were mentioned, followed by Natasha. She was used to being called Auntie Nat by the kids, but to see them send her such love was enough to crack her tough exterior.

Wanda burst into tears as her brother was also wished goodnight, as she missed him terribly. Peter and Aunt May were there, as May and Bruce were still dating. To hear Ben be mentioned brought tears to their eyes as well, Bruce included.

The video was done playing, and everyone sat in stunned silence.

“Yeah, that just made everything that we do worth it. Those kids look up to us, and I'll be damned if I let them down, “ Rhodey declared, patting a still sobbing Tony on the back. Everyone nodded their agreement, then slowly, one by one, they all went to sleep, sweet dreams aplenty.

#

The next morning, Evie woke to her phone going off, the notification tone repeating every few seconds. She grabbed it and unlocked it, looking at all of the messages on the screen.

“Steve, wake up,” she urged, grabbing her husband's shoulder and shaking him. He snaked his arms around her and pulled her close, throwing a leg over hers.

“Five more minutes,” he mumbled into her neck before covering every inch he could reach in kisses. He began to grind his hips into hers, his arousal growing by the moment.

“Steve…” she trailed off as his left hand came up to cradle her face while he kissed her deeply. He took advantage of her distraction to climb over top of her, grinding his erection into her even more. Evie wrapped her arms around his back, reveling in the way his muscles moved under her fingertips. Her hands slowly made their way to his pants, intent on removing them as her earlier preoccupation was forgotten as they continued kissing.

“Uncle Steve! Get off Auntie Evie! You're gonna hurt her!” came the outraged cry from the doorway as Becca ran into the room. Evie jumped, causing her teeth to nick Steve's lip. He quickly got off of her, sitting up in bed as Alice and Bucky entered soon after their daughter, bursting into laughter as Steve's blush covered his upper body. Evie quickly sat up as well and swung her legs over Steve's lap to help hide his erection from their niece.

“Becca! What have we told you about coming into our room without knocking?” she scolded the little girl. “What if I or your uncle were getting dressed? We don't want you to see us naked, so you have to knock first.” Becca bowed her head.

“Sorry, Auntie Evie. I was just so excited to tell you about what Auntie Gail said about Miss Okoye,” she replied. Evie sighed before holding her arms out for her niece.

“It's okay, but that's one of the rules, remember? We all have to knock before opening someone's door,” she said as she hugged the little girl.

“Becca, she's right. You wouldn't want her or Uncle Steve to just walk into your room while you were getting dressed, right?” Bucky asked his daughter. Becca's eyes grew big as she understood the issue.

“No. Okay, I'll knock every time, I promise.” Evie hugged her again before kissing the top of her head.

“Good deal. Why don't you go hang with Sarah? I'm sure she's awake.” Becca was out the door before Evie got the whole sentence out. Once she was gone, Steve got out of bed, holding a pillow over his crotch as he walked past Bucky and Alice as he headed to the bathroom.

“Why the hell are you hiding it from me? It's not like I don't know what one looks like,” Bucky directed at his brother's back.

“Yeah, well my sister doesn't need to see it though,” he shot back over his shoulder as he threw the pillow at Bucky, shutting the door. Alice shuddered as she climbed up next to Evie.

“Yeah, I really don't need to see him like that,” she agreed. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“What? We're all adults here,” he argued. It was Evie's turn to roll her eyes.

“Yeah, but you wouldn't want me to see you like that though, right?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well no, but we're related.” Another eye roll from the doctor.

“They are too, because of us, so it's the same thing, moron.” Bucky flipped her off before calling over his shoulder.

“Having problems in there, Stevie?” Evie couldn't hear her husband's response, but judging by the blush that covered Alice's face and Bucky's laugh, it was pretty filthy, even for Steve. “I think we're gonna go hang with the little monkeys so you can go help him out.” He stalked to the bed and swept Alice into his arms and walked out.

Taking that as her cue, Evie went into the bathroom, walking up behind Steve, who stood in front of the toilet. She grabbed his hands and turned him towards her, the tent in his pants quite noticeable

“Here, let me,” she said as she sank to her knees.

**********

Evie followed the voices of her kids and niece downstairs, finding them, Alice and Bucky in the kitchen, eating breakfast.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked teasingly. Evie smiled at him.

“Oh yeah. You know better than anyone about that super soldier stamina, so we had to take care of his issue a few times,” she replied with a wink, making Alice blush.

“Eww. So anyway, we didn't know that you had sent that video to everyone last night,” she said, narrowing her eyes at her sister. Evie shrugged.

“What? I thought that everyone would enjoy it. Sorry for not asking before I sent it.” She set about making a cup of coffee for herself and a glass of milk for Steve.

“Thanks, baby,” he said as he walked in and grabbed it from her. He wasn't a fan of coffee, so it was milk or water for him.

“Welcome, babe.” She kissed him sweetly before walking over to Becca. “So, what did Auntie Gail say about Miss Okoye?” The six-year-old grinned brightly, her father's smile copied perfectly into her little face.

“Auntie Gail said that Miss Okoye cried when she saw your video, Auntie Evie!” she exclaimed. Evie looked around at the other adults in shock. Making Okoye, the General of the Dora Milaje, cry over a video was an impressive feat.

“Uh, wow. That is pretty amazing,” Evie replied in a daze. Becca nodded enthusiastically.

“Yep and cousin T'Zari said hi to us too!” All of the adults were glad the super kids would all grow up so close. Steve had opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted when the front door opened. The four adults went to see who their unannounced visitor was.

“Brighten our day?! Tug at our heartstrings is more like it!” Maggie cried as she stomped in, followed by Simon, Kerry, and Sam.

“Yeah, that was pretty heavy-handed, Evie,” Sam said, closing the door behind him. “Kerry woke up crying a few times over ‘how fecking cute’ it was.” Steve and Bucky grinned at the thought of Sam having to deal with a pregnant partner and the accompanying mood swings.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to make her or Okoye cry,” Evie apologized.

“Wait...Okoye cried?! Wow,” Simon exclaimed, impressed.

“Apparently.” Her phone dinged again and she looked at the messages. “Oh yeah. I was going through the responses I got when someone distracted me,” she said, glaring at Steve.

“What? I had needs, and you took care of them,” he answered with a shrug. “What did everyone say?” Evie scrolled through her notifications, her smile growing with each one.

“So Okoye cried, so did Quill and Rocket. Tony sobbed, and Thor and Loki got choked up. Oh my gosh…..Nat cried. I made Natasha Romanoff cry.” Evie honestly didn't know what to say. She didn't mean to make anyone cry with the video. She just wanted to show everyone how much they meant to the kids.

“Simon cried too, Evie. Good job,” Maggie congratulated her. The offended look on the burly man's face was priceless as she sold him out. Bucky, Steve, and Sam burst out laughing, while Kerry and Alice smiled sweetly at him.

“Awww, Si. I've made you cry, and now Evie has. Did you cry when Gail got married? Will you cry when Kerry gets married?” Alice asked. He scowled at her.

“Shut it, Al. For the record, I wasn't crying last night, I just had….allergies,” Simon explained.

Which, in the presence of a doctor, probably wasn't a good idea.

“Do I need to prescribe you something for those then?” Evie said, slipping into Doctor mode. He stuttered at being caught in a lie.

“Yeah, some time to hang with all of the kids so he's not such a fecking moody bastard,” Kerry quipped, making all of the adults laugh. “Oh. Riley must want to play too.” She rubbed her belly, looking uncomfortable.

“Everything okay in there?” Evie was on edge. She couldn't exactly diagnose anything with Riley or Kerry, as obstetrics was out of her league. The redhead sighed.

“Yeah, he's just over eager to get here. I'll be so glad when he does though.” Sam rubbed her back soothingly as she took some calming breaths.

“Alright. Just don't go into labor yet. He's not done cooking and there's no one here that's qualified to deliver him,” Evie warned. They all gave her the same look. “What?”

“You are the most qualified person here,” Alice insisted. “None of us have gone to medical school and only two of us have given birth.” Evie's eyes grew big as she realized her sister was right.

“True, but let's leave me as Plan Z. You'll be at the Compound when you go into labor I'm sure.” They all nodded in agreement. They've had enough excitement to last them a lifetime.

“Okay, enough chit chat. I've got a nephew and some nieces I need to see,” Simon declared, pushing past them all and heading towards the kitchen. Evie chuckled as they all followed him. If he's this whipped before fatherhood, then he'll be a downright puddle of mush when he and Maggie have a baby. 

Evie hung back and watched everyone in the kitchen, happy to see all the love and affection they all had for each other.

@suz-123 @avenger-nerd-mom @aglarelen @amaranthuspetals @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @bad-wolf87 @bolontiku @brighterlightss @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @buckyywiththegoodhair @caplansteverogers @captainradicalpassion @caramell0w @celeb-fess @delicatecapnerd @doloreschanal @donnaintx @earinafae @etts21 @ghostssss @girlbehindthecameraposts @gramaeryebard @jhangelface0523 @kimistry27 @liz-pbnz @loki-god-of-my-life @magellan-88 @marvel-trash07 @pegasusdragontiger @punkfrog @ruinerofcheese @ryverpenrad @sarahp879 @silver-starburst @the-real-kellymonster @4theluvofall  @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety  @stars8melanin  @getinmelanin011  @honey-bee-holly   @lostinspace33  @dustycelt  @avengedqueen26 @amandarosemire  @diinofayce  @sillinessinseattle @lookwhatyoumademequeue  @jewels2876

[rainythefox]

Nightfall (Resident Evil WeskerxClaire fanfiction, CH3)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling upon dark secrets. She can't call the law; Wesker is the law, and she can't tell Chris. She is trapped...ClairexWesker. Slight ChrisxJill. (An old FF.Net multi-chapter fic of mine that I’m revising and publishing to AO3)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17794784/chapters/41982563 (Chapters 1-3 are up, Chapter 4 coming soon)

Chapter 3: Blood in the Snow

Chris glared at the two women. Their giggles sounded roughly at the same time, grins wide on their pretty faces. Luckily, the Christmas music drowned their laughter out where other people couldn’t hear them as Chris held on for dear life.

"I fail to see what’s so amusing!"

Jill tugged on Chris’s arm. "Chris, it's just ice skating!"

"Yeah…it's skating, you know…on ice!"

Chris's legs wobbled and slid on the ice as he held onto the railing of the ice skating rink. Claire stood graciously next to Jill on the ice in her skates, arms crossed and breaths coming out in puffs. And even Jill had the audacity to stand on one leg so she could fix the tongue of her skate. The rink was moderately full with people ice skating, but not near as what it usually was. There was plenty of room to skate around; meaning Chris had plenty of room to crash.

The Christmas lights casted a magical glow around the trio. The snow glowed under their aura as music played in the park. The smell of food from nearby food vendors lofted in the air. It was the closest thing they were going to get to a Winter Wonderland in the middle of Raccoon City.

"The guys will never let me live this down if they see me doing this!" Chris huffed. "How the hell did you two talk me into this?"

"Because," Jill stated, looking over her pitiful partner as he was glued to the rail. "You said you’d ice skate with us if we went over to Barry's house with the guys to watch the football game."

Claire folded her arms with a smirk. "Which we would have gone anyways.”

"Don't be such a baby, Chris!” Jill’s attempts at pulling Chris away were futile. He wasn’t budging. “Look, I know you have more balance than that!"

Claire elbowed Jill, and then leaned in to whisper in her ear. Chris looked between them with a warning glare, immediately suspicious of their mischievous grins as they whispered. His fingers dug into the railing even harder, if that was even possible.

"Don't even think about it!"

Claire and Jill grabbed Chris and worked together to tear him away from the railing. They pushed him towards the middle of the skating rink. Chris looked like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide, arms out and waving and legs slipping and sliding as he fought for balance, desperate gasps and profanities spewing from his mouth. Claire and Jill cackled at the sight, skating out towards him. Finally, Chris was able to get a grip on his balance and worked at getting himself to go forward without face planting first into the ground.

"Whoo! I'm doing it!" He sounded like a gleeful child.

"They grow up so fast," Jill joked.

Claire and Jill skated behind Chris as he practiced and tried not to crash. Raccoon City Park was full of excitement and good spirits under the starry sky. Outside of the rink, kids made snowmen and snow angels with their parents. There were even a few families decking it out with a snowball fight.

Claire thoughtfully looked over at Jill. "So…I was supposed to be sneaky about this, but I know it won't do any good. I’m just gonna be upfront. Chris is going crazy trying to find you a Christmas gift. Is there something you want he can get you so he’ll shut up?"

Jill laughed, shaking her head. "He doesn't have to get me anything."

Her smile, though amused, shaped more into an affectionate up-curve of her lips. Her cheeks had been rosy from the cold, but now they seemed extra-rosy to Claire.

"Oh, but he does…badly. Please, you gotta help me or I’ll have to deal with his whining the whole time I’m here visiting."

Jill was quiet, and Claire hoped she was thinking of something. "Well, how about something practical like a new toaster?"

Claire gave her an unamused glare. "C’mon Jill, a toaster? Really? Who wants a toaster for Christmas?"

Jill shrugged. "I really wouldn't want Chris spending any kind of money on me."

"Oh, how about that really nice sofa back in that store we checked out earlier? That would actually look really nice in your living room."

"No way! That thing was like $500!"

"Yeah, you’re right." Claire sighed, thinking. "Hmm…how about a hat? You like hats!"

"A hat sound simple, cheap, and easy. I'm all for it!"

Claire was relieved. "Glad that's over with! So, do you need my help deciding what you’re getting Chris?"

Jill waved her off. "Nah, I ordered his nearly two months ago."

"What? Really? What is it?"

"Well, I went to Robert Kendo's gun shop and had him customize a brand new issue Samurai Edge with a steel slide and a silver-glided trigger just for Chris. It’s a one-of-a-kind gun, made just for Chris. He had one, but it got blown up, and that fucker Irons wouldn’t pay for a replacement."

Claire gave a baffled look. "Blown…up?"

"Don’t ask. Long story. Basically, while dealing with a terrorist, one of the STARS vehicles got blown up with Chris’s gun inside. Everything turned out good in the end, but he sure was upset that his Samurai Edge was destroyed. It was the gun he won that last marksmanship trophy with. He's been using an old Glock instead for awhile."

"Wow, he never told me about that. How much did that cost?"

Jill looked away, mumbling. "Oh, not important."

"Jill!"

"Alright! It cost $780."

Claire’s jaw fell agape and then she glared at her friend. "I'm totally telling him to buy you that sofa and a hat…and a toaster."

"You better not! Don't tell him the gun cost that much. I'm gonna lie and say that Wesker convinced Irons to issue him a new one."

"And what if Chris asks Wesker for that story?"

Jill bit her lip. "I…uhh…I'll tell Wesker to go along with it! Besides, Chris wouldn't dare ask the Captain for the truth!"

"Maybe so," Claire said. "But if you do that, then Chris wouldn’t know it was a Christmas gift from you. He would think it was a Christmas gift from Wesker…sort of."

Jill slumped her shoulders. "Yeah, you're right. I suck at coming up with stories."

"I won't say anything about the gun, but you should really tell him the truth when you give it to him. He deserves to know it’s really from you. And, just so we’re clear, don't be surprised if Chris buys you something just as expensive."

Jill heaved a defeated sigh. "Fine."

"Hey, kiddo!” Chris hollered. “Check this out!"

He was skating on one foot, grinning and proud of himself.

Claire covered her forehead, groaning. "He called me a kiddo…how embarrassing.”

Jill cupped her hands over her mouth, her breath coming out in white puffs. "Pretty soon you'll be an ice skating champ, Christopher!"

"Don't call me that!"

Jill shook her head. "Why does he hate being called Christopher so much?"

"I have no idea."

Chris yelped, and a crash followed. They saw Chris slowly sliding across the ice on his stomach, arms and legs spread out. Claire and Jill skated over to him while laughing and helped him to his feet.

"I think that’s enough ice skating for one day," Chris said, feeling his lip with a finger. "I think I bit my lip!"

"Alright, we better leave anyways if we’re going to get over to Barry's in time for the game," Claire replied, holding back a laugh.

Barry Burton lived with his family in eastern Raccoon City in a safe, quiet suburban community. They lived in a large, two-story house with a built in garage and large backyard. The Redfields and the Burtons went way back. Claire had known Barry and his wife, Kathy, since she was a little girl. She considered Barry’s two young daughters, Moira and Polly, as her nieces. It was the Burtons who helped look after Claire after her and Chris’s parents died, and he was forced to enlist into the military to take care of Claire. It was Barry who eventually helped Chris get hired on at the RPD as a member of STARS. They considered each other family.

While over watching the football game, they enjoyed the good company and the home-cooked food and drinks. Barry's house was full of snacks, good food, drinks, and off course friends. Claire and Jill were just as into the game as the men were, cheering for their home team. Barry left just long enough to put Moira and Polly to bed for the night. Claire wasn't surprised that a few of their STARS teammates were here to enjoy the game and visit as well. Joseph Frost, Forest Speyer, and Richard Aiken cracked jokes and stuffed their faces while the football game went on. Even Barry’s good friend, Robert Kendo, came over to watch the game and have some drinks.

Afraid they would wake his daughters from their rowdy banter, Barry slapped Joseph with a rolled up newspaper and told them to keep it down. However, when the home team scored their first touchdown, the scolding was forgotten as all men jumped to their feet whooping and cheering, Barry included.

The game lasted a couple of hours, and they rejoiced as their home team won the game, clanking beer bottles together. They helped the Burtons clean up for a short time before departing for home.

By the time Chris and Claire got to Chris's house, she was beat. She had cheered just as much as the men, and probably ate just as much too.

The Redfield siblings weren’t home long before going to bed. Chris would be returning to work in the morning, and Claire would to have to take him in because Jill’s shift started earlier.

They got up early the following morning to have breakfast downtown before Claire dropped her brother off at the police department. He grabbed the door handle of the truck and turned to her before getting out.

"Be careful if you go anywhere. We’re supposed to get more snow later," Chris informed.

The sun was rising on the icy morning, but dark gray, overcast clouds warned of more winter weather to come.

"Will do. I think I’m gonna hit the hike trails and run a mile or two before going home. I feel fat from all that good food last night."

Chris rolled his eyes. "You women. Can’t you just run at the track in town? That’s kinda far."

"It’s closed, remember? Besides, I like the scenery out there better."

"I dunno, Sis. Anything could happen that far out by yourself. Might get hurt and no one be around to help. Hell, there might be crazies out there right now."

It was Claire's turn to roll her eyes. There were times Chris’s brotherly protectiveness got on her nerves. "Chris,we’ve taken the Arklay Hiking Trails lots of times and never had any problems. If there is anyone out there, which I doubt from the weather, I bet it’ll only be that old couple Mr. and Mrs. Willow and some of those good looking track guys from Raccoon University."

"Good looking track guys? Now wait just a damn minute, I-"

"Oh c'mon, Chris, I was just joking! I knew you would freak out as soon as I mentioned hot guys!”

“Well, just run a mile around my house.”

"I’d look like an idiot running around the house."

"Fine, whatever. Just don’t take too long and please call me when you get home, alright? If I don’t hear from you in a few hours, I’ll come searching. I mean it!”

"Yes, sir!" Claire stated sarcastically and stuck her tongue out at him.

After her brother got out, Claire drove the truck away from downtown Raccoon City and took the main highway out of the city’s limits. Dreary clouds snuffed out the early morning sun. Claire knew it would snow again soon, probably before noon. It was cold and snowy, but Claire felt the jog would do her some good. She had neglected her exercises since arriving to visit Chris on her winter break, and knew it would also be nice to get out of the house and clear her head for awhile.

Claire smiled. Yes, it was a good day for a jog.

The Arklay National Forest was a vast wilderness that surrounded the city with mountains and rivers for miles around. It was a popular tourist attraction within Arklay County. There were several camping and hiking locations throughout the county, but the more popular ones included the Arklay Hiking Trails to the northwest of the city, off Route 6. They explored Arklay Mountains and provided beautiful sightseeing, rock climbing, and breathtaking vistas.

Claire parked the Dodge truck in the parking area of the hiking trails. The small forest center stated the hiking trails were closed due to the weather. Claire had never seen something like that before, as closing the national forest to people seemed far-fetched. She saw other vehicles in the parking lot, so figured the sign was forgotten about from the ice storm a couple weeks ago.

She climbed out, bundling up in her parka and gloves. She wore dark pants and snow boots and a scarf around her neck. The forest around her was quiet, only the soft cracks of snow falling off tree limbs could be heard. Claire took a good look around. The snow had transformed the forest into a winter wonderland. And though Claire was more of an autumn person, she had to admit that the snow made everything seem mystical.

As she walked over to the start of one of the scenic trails, she noticed the other vehicles parked in the lot, just a few slots down from her truck. She was surprised to see them. In this biting cold and snow, only the determined came out here to walk or hike the trails. She didn't recognize them either. The older couple see saw often drove a Ford car, and they also didn't belong to the track guys from the university.

There were three of them parked side by side, and the models surprised Claire. There was a brand new black Jaguar XK8 that caught her eye. Luxury cars weren't uncommon in Raccoon City, thanks to the booming economy and high-paying jobs from corporations like Umbrella. The Jaguar wasn't one of those more commonly seen though. Whoever owned this car had a lot of money. The other two cars were not near as stunning as the Jaguar, but also were high dollar luxury cars. There was a silver BMW M3 sedan, as well as a dark green Mercedes-Benz S320. The cars were mostly clean save for some dirty snow and mud caked up under the fenders.

Well, it looks as though we got some rich buddies going for a stroll. I hope one of them is good looking!

She laughed inwardly at her own joke, shaking her head and moving on. She was sure whomever owned these cars were not her type and were probably much older. Claire picked the trail that she and Chris would go on all the time, wondering how the snow and ice had changed its beautiful scenery from the spring and summer seasons. She pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail and did a few warm up exercises before starting to jog along the trail.

The scenic trail she took was the one of the longer ones, but Claire knew she could always turn back if she started to get too cold. She jogged along the snow-covered path, careful not to slip on any ice. She took in the sights as she followed the trail. Icicles hung from tree branches, thicker branches held snow. The wind whistled as it whipped through the forest, picking up dusts of snow. There was even wildlife nearby. She could see and hear birds as they flew from branch to branch, tweeting and singing. A few squirrels were out, their tails twitching as they chased each other through the trees. A red fox that watched the snow for a mouse saw her and vanished into the woods. Not far from the trail, Claire saw a small herd of deer and stopped to watch them. They ate the bark from the trees, and there were even does with fawns. A buck turned his head towards her, mouth chewing and tail flicking.

I wish I had my camera!

Suddenly, the deer turned and fled deeper into the forest. Disappointed, Claire carried on, but decided to walk for a bit to further enjoy the vibrant wildlife that surrounded her. Her lungs burned from the biting cold and running, and came out in white puffs as she caught her breath. She walked the trail deeper into the mountains, still seeing wildlife here and there.

The deeper she followed the trail, the more it became deathly silent and unmoving. Then it was gone. There was no life whatsoever out here anymore. Even the wind had died down, and so not even the tree limbs groaned or cracked in the distance. Claire's nerves twitched, and she felt a knot growing in her chest. The kind of knot that told her it was time to turn back. Something wasn't right at all, and she suddenly remembered the three cars back at the entrance by her truck.

I should’ve seen somebody by now…

She halted on the path. She looked all around her, that feeling in her chest getting worse. Something bright and red caught her peripheral vision, and Claire looked down onto the snow-covered trail. A few feet away from her was a couple of quarter-sized blood splotches. The sight of the blood itself was enough to make hers curdle. She noticed the other flecks of blood, and even a trail. The dark red spots had melted the snow into a thick syrup-like substance, and were fresh.

Did someone get hurt?

A sharp, pained cry hit her ears and startled her. Her heart jumped to her throat, nerves sizzling as she backed away from the sound. Claire swallowed hard, frozen in place. Her gut urged her to turn back and flee, but she couldn’t just leave without making sure someone wasn’t hurt or dying out here.

The snow crunched quietly below her boots as she followed the blood drops along the path. There were footprints here other than hers, and grooves in the snow that looked like there had been a struggle. Voices carried through the trees, and her breath caught in her throat with a shaky sputter. She went off the path to hide behind a thick, large oak tree. She took a deep breath to steady herself and looked around the trunk into an opening not far off from the trail.

Claire saw a man, maybe in his forties, with graying five o'clock shadow on his knees, wincing in pain. Blood stained his shirt, and his face was welted and bruised. The blood on the trail had to have been his. Claire’s pulse rose as she realized the man's arms were tied behind his back. There were two other men, and they stood in front of him.

One of the men was thin, handsome, and looked to be in his mid-thirties with dirty blond hair, blue eyes, and five o'clock shadow. He wore a coat with a white shirt and a sloppily tied tie and dark slacks. Claire didn't recognize him. The other man was one she recognized all too well. Her eyes widened, heart catching in her throat as she recognized Albert Wesker. The leader of the Special Tactics and Rescue Service wore his dark uniform, the same one she saw him wear the other day. He had a handgun aimed at the bleeding man.

What the hell?!

The man beside Wesker rolled his neck, yawning as if he was bored. "C'mon, Finley, we don't have all day."

"Fuck you, William. I'm not telling you two anything!"

“This is a strange spot to board the Ecliptic Express. The train doesn’t stop out here, unless of course you bribed the engineer because you were trying to avoid us.”

“What?! You’re crazy!”

"You had a contract, Mr. Finley. You are obliged to tell us what you know," Wesker said coolly, the gun unwavering near Finley’s face.

The battered man glared at the STARS Captain. "Yeah, I did have a contract. But not to you, Albert! Just because you killed Crawford doesn't mean I have to answer to you."

"Well, that's too bad," William stated, smirking. "I guess that means we’ll have to resort to other measures, isn't that right, Al?"

"You two are fucking insane! I’ve kept up my end of the deal. I didn't do anything!"

"On the contrary," Wesker interrupted. "You informed a different party about the change in the Tyrant Project as well as gave out crucial information on the Golgotha. That is quite a problem you’ve caused for Spencer and Umbrella, and well as for us."

Finley spat blood from his lips. "You have no proof!”

Wesker bashed the pistol across the man’s face and he yelped.

“William and I do not like our time wasted. The longer I have to play pest control, the less desirable your fate will be.”

“I’m not scared of you.”

“Well, you never were very bright, Fin,” William retorted with a chuckle.

"William, how about we head over to Finley's house to dispose of his family and make him out to be the killer who shot himself?"

"You always come up with the best plans, Al."

"W-Wait, n-no! Not my f-family! I'll tell you everything; just leave my family out of this!"

Wesker purposely put the barrel close to the beaten man’s eye. "Then where are the disks?"

Finley took a deep breath, his body shaking, but Claire doubted it was from the cold. "I-I gave them to S-Steve Morgan."

"Oh, for crying out loud," William groaned. "Steve Morgan? You’re siphoning information to the Ashfords?! I should kill you where you stand!"

"He’s still in town! You can stop him! Besides, you can’t kill me! Spencer won’t allow it! I demand you two to take me to him!"

Wesker lowered the gun, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips. "Of course, Finley. I won’t go against Spencer.”

"R-Really?" Finley gasped.

William rounded on Wesker with wide eyes. "What?!” Then he suddenly calmed, clearing his throat and smiling. “Ohhh. Right. Sure, Fin. Whatever Al says, goes.”

Finley looked between them, pale and sweaty. “G-Good. Now take me to him.”

Wesker rubbed his chin. “Then again, I hate snitches.”

Finley barely got a plea out before Wesker aimed the gun and pulled the trigger. The gunshot pierced through the woods like a cold dagger.

Claire almost screamed when she saw Finley's head explode. The body fell limp to the ground, blood gushing out onto the snow. Claire covered her mouth, not trusting herself to make a noise at the sight. Her breath became shallow gulps, her heartbeats quickening in fear.

William sighed. "You made a mess…again.”

"I'm running late, William. I'll call Sergei and make him send a group out here to clean everything up and dispose of Finley's car."

"Fine. Next time, let's try to move them somewhere a bit more private. I know he was coming back from the express, but someone could’ve been walking the trail, ya know? Not everyone listens to those closed signs."

Wesker shrugged. "We weren't expecting Finley to pull a gun on us, now did we? He was ready for us. It’s why the train stopped out here instead. He knew I killed Crawford and we were coming for him next. This did not go according to plan. He has been in contact with somebody other than Morgan. We should look more into this.”

"Agreed," William replied, kicking Finley's limp leg. "Goddamn rat."

Claire slipped behind the tree again, her heart pounding so fast, it was about to burst from her chest. They were heading back to their cars! There was no way Claire could get back to the truck and leave before they saw her. And she knew Wesker would recognize Chris's truck. She was in a very bad position. She couldn't believe that Wesker, the Captain of the STARS force and one of Raccoon City's Finest, was a dirty cop.

They were talking about something big, she knew. The Umbrella Corporation was one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world, and had actually played a big part in the building of Raccoon City. Besides that, between the pharmacies, facilities, and warehouses, Umbrella gave more than 25,000 jobs for the city alone.

Claire desperately thought on what to do. She couldn't make a run for it without them hearing or seeing her. Wesker obviously had a gun and was not afraid to use it. If she remained in hiding, Wesker would recognize Chris's truck, and would either be back on the trail to hunt her down, or heading back to the police station to confront Chris and possibly lead him into a trap like they did with this poor fellow out here. At this point, Claire had no idea what Wesker was capable of. She always heard that he was one of the most honored and respected men at the RPD, with a prowess like no other. Now it seemed he was a two-faced traitor that used his position in law to his advantage.

"Wait a minute. Look at these shoe prints, Albert!"

Claire froze, the rough bark of the tree digging into her back. She dared not to look around the tree. They sounded right on the other side of it on the trail.

"Woman, size seven and a half. Interesting," Wesker commented.

You've got to be shitting me…

"Alright, little lady, come out! Don't be shy! We know you’re here! We promise we won’t hurt you!" William said, his tone friendly and comforting, but Claire knew better. She then heard him whisper to Wesker. "I knew this was a bad idea! We're going to get caught! I blame this on you!"

"Shh!" Wesker hissed.

They went silent, further antagonizing Claire. She was so terrified, she felt she had frozen herself with the tree and become one with it. Her mind ran a million miles a second, trying to come up with a plan, and fast.

"The footsteps go towards that tree. Stay here," Wesker said.

William scoffed. “Psh! Yeah, better you than me!”

SHIT!

Claire could hear his footsteps heading in her direction off of the trail. She looked down, hoping to God she could find something to use as a weapon against the both of them and escape. All she saw near her feet was a rock twice the size of her fist. She bent over to grab it up, making not even a peep. She struggled to keep her throat from letting a cry out. Why did she have to leave her gun and knife in the truck? Chris always told her to carry them, and the one time she didn’t, she needed them.

Wesker’s footsteps neared the tree, and so she braced herself. Maybe if she was able to knock Wesker out and take his gun, she would be able to get away. William didn't seem much of a threat, but Claire didn't want to take any chances.

As Wesker came around the tree, Claire swung the rock. Wesker barely evaded it, his reflexes quick and nimble. He grabbed her arm, twisting it around her back and slamming her into the tree. It made her drop the rock. Claire yelped, fighting his hold, but he tightened his grip, threatening to break it, and she gave in with a cry.

"Well, well, well, this is quite a small world. Wouldn't you agree, Ms. Redfield?" Wesker greeted, sounding amused as he let her arm go.

Claire turned around with a glare. She tried to push past him, but Wesker shoved her back into the tree and held her there. It didn't take long before William came around to where they were.

"You two know each other?"

"Chris Redfield's younger sister. He’s a member of STARS," Wesker answered simply. Those sunglasses focused on Claire once more, and his grip tightened on her shirt just above her breasts as he kept her in place. He used his free hand to take of his sunglasses, pocketing them. A dark smirk formed on Wesker's lips, his gray-blue eyes piercing her and making Claire's bones freeze. "You better have a good explanation for this, dear heart. I'm just dying to know why you are here."

[lacrossepapi]

Curled Up

Thank you so much to the mods for making this banner and running this awesome event! I’m so excited to see everyone else’s works! @steterweek

Day one: Alpha Peter or AND Creature Stiles

Ao3 Link

“Uncle! I’m home!” Cora sang as she loudly barged into the once quiet house.

“Ah my favorite niece has returned from prison.” Peter said with faux cheer making Laura elbow him hard in the gut.

“I don’t know why you expected for that to go over well.” Derek chuckled from the dining room table.

“I am your alpha and this is how you treat me? I never!” Peter crooned, a hand placed dramatically over his heart.

Saturday nights with nieces and nephew around him and a book in his hand was not the way he had envisioned spending his adult life, but Peter wouldn’t trade his boring life for anything. His parents had died when he was twenty-three leaving him an alpha, and his sister a grieving mess. Talia had handled her grief by hitting the road; her husband had left to go find her, yet neither had returned. Laura had been six at the time and the only one that still has memories of Talia and Joseph. Every year the kids got postcards and presents for their birthdays and Christmas, but each year the gifts only seemed to highlight the emotional and physical distance between them and their parents. Peter considered himself a great surrogate father, but those first few years had been incredibly hard. Laura had blamed him for Talia and Joseph’s absence; Derek asked every morning and every evening when his parents were coming home, and Cora had been just a baby at the time. Peter had only thought vaguely about having his own children when he suddenly had three to take care of all on his own.

Looking back now, past all the struggles and hardships, Peter was almost glad Talia and Joseph had left him with the precious gift of their children. These kids had changed him into a much kinder man, one that lived a quiet happy life, and Peter was forever in their debt for the joy they gave him.

“Oh cool a snake!” came Cora’s excited voice from the patio, alerting Peter that he had approximately two seconds before Derek and Laura were going to freak out.

Peter clapped his hands to his ears and shot off the couch in time to miss Derek’s full bodied tackle and Laura’s ear splitting scream as she too launched herself in the direction of where Peter had been sitting.

“Now children! Calm down!” Peter shouted over the yelps of the eldest Hale children as he sent soothing thoughts down their pack bonds.

“Oh shit. Uncle come here! I think it’s hurt!” Cora’s voice was frantic, yet wet like she was already about to cry.

His sweet, kind hearted bad ass niece couldn’t stand when animals were hurt and it made his heart warm and break everytime she cried over an innocent creature. He left the quietly panicking young adults and made his way out to his brave Cora-baby and the wounded snake.

He froze as his eyes adjusted to the light and he saw that the snake was curled in Cora’s lap and blood was covering her legs where the poor thing was laying.

“I’ll call Deaton. Can you tell what type of snake it is?” Peter said calmly.

“Uncle, I think he’s a shifter.” Cora breathed.

“What do you mean he’s a shifter?” Peter asked as her stepped closer to sniff the air around his niece and the snake.

“He isn’t acting like a normal snake. He let me pick him up and look at his wounds, he came out of the woods and headed directly for me. He hasn’t hissed at me once. And the way he’s looking at you makes me think he knows you’re an alpha.” Cora’s words were calm and her body didn’t move at all just in case she was wrong and really did have a wounded animal in her lap.

Peter yelled for Laura to call Deaton before crouching down to look the snake in the eye, “Can you flash your eyes at me, sweet thing?”

Peter had never met a weresnake before and so he expected either beta orange or the more yellow-orange of the only other shifter he’d met who was a coyote, instead he was greeted with a gold like burnt honey. He gasped in the face of that bright beauty before he collected himself and slowly reached a hand out to touch the snake’s small body. The wounded creature did not move away or try to strike out, but instead slowly, painfully, lifted its head to meet his hand. Such a beautiful, strong little thing. Peter felt himself drawn to the strength and intelligence he saw in the snake’s gaze.

“It’s called hypermelanism.” Cora’s voice jarred Peter from the almost trance like state he’d been.

He made a questioning sound as he finally gently placed his hand on the beautiful scales and started drawing out the poor thing’s pain.

“His scales. I have been searching the internet while you two were communicating or whatever, and I’m pretty sure he’s a chocolate morph California Kingsnake with hypermelanism. The chocolate scales with only a splash of copper on his belly that gives him that metallic look is very distinct so it didn’t take long to figure it out.” Cora explained.

Peter hummed an agreeing sound, too caught up in the tidal waves of pain he was draining to speak.

-

“I did not scream.” Laura demanded with a childish stomp, “Besides, he’s a person! I’m not scared of a shifter.”

“So you admit you were scared of a snake?” Derek asked with a smirk.

“I remember you jumping around with your underwear in a twist with her nephew dear.” Peter reminded him from the kitchen.

Derek flushed a bright red, mumbling “Well at least I'm not a snake nerd that figured out the breed and morph before the vet even arrived.” before crossing his arms and making his exit.

“Such a spoilsport.” Cora laughed.

Peter hummed in agreement before asking, “Do you still have all the snake stuff from the last time you found one?”

Cora nodded before she ran up to the storage room, that had once been the master bedroom.

“Can you manage to go buy this guy some mice? Deaton said he has to be with an alpha to help the healing, but he’s going to need some food soon. I can’t take him with me to go hunt.” Laura gave him a disgusted face, “Fine. I’ll get your baby sister to do it so she can mock you for being a scaredy wolf again. Your call darling.” Peter knew Laura would fold under the threat of more ridicule, and she did.

“I feel weird about putting him in the tank, he is a person too.” Cora said as she entered the kitchen again.

Peter looked at the sleeping creature in his lap and sighed, “I know baby, but he’s injured and the last thing he needs is to get trampled by one of us because he can’t move fast enough to get out of the way. He blends in with our floors, so we’d never see him and you know that. We don’t have to put the lid on it though since he isn’t a normal snake. We’ll set him up on my desk by my bed so he stays close to an alpha through the night, but other than that we have to treat him like a regular snake until he’s healed or shifts back.”

He reached out a hand and gently rubbed a circle on Cora’s back before continuing, “He’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to him Cora-baby.”

-

A weird fluttering motion on Peter’s cheek had him cracking open a tired eye to look into the snake’s smiling face. Peter hadn’t even known snake’s could smile, maybe they can’t but it sure did look like a smile.

“Good morning little one.” Peter’s voice was a low grumble and the snake squeezed his arm in greeting.

He had no idea how he hadn’t woken up when the little devil snuck out of his tank and wrapped himself around Peter’s arm.

“How are you feeling?” Peter asked knowing the snake couldn’t verbally reply, but hoped it could make some kind of body motion to tell him if the poor thing was still in pain.

The snake squeezed once again, which Peter took to mean he was feeling better. Good.

Peter tapped one thick finger on the snake’s head and said, “You shouldn’t have exerted yourself by sneaking out of the tank you little devil.”

The snake pulled it’s head back and tilted it as if asking “How could you accuse me of that?”

Peter snorted and rolled his eyes, “Come on, I bet you’re hungry.”

“Jesus fucking christ!” Laura shouted, dropping the rag she had been drying her hands on.

“Nope. Just Uncle Peter, but thanks for the warm welcome, Laura-darling.”

“Oh shove it Peter.” Laura grumbled under her breath, earning herself a light punch to the arm as Peter passed her.

Peter grabbed one of the mice from the cage Laura had brought in and placed it in the sink before gently guiding the snake onto the counter.

“Jesus. Fuck. I didn’t need to see that this early.” Derek groaned from the entrance to the kitchen, his hair still standing up ridiculously.

“Contrary to popular belief I’m just your Uncle Peter. Good morning to you too, nephew dear” Peter smiled at his sleepy nephew and offered the boy the mug of coffee he’d poured for Derek.

At the sound of thundering steps coming down the stairs Peter lifted the lunch box, that he packed Cora’s breakfast and lunch into, and the purple thermos full of coffee into the air, only to be snatched out of his hands immediately.

“Thanks! Gotta go! Love you!” Cora called over her shoulder as she raced out of the house, followed by a chorus of “love you too”s.

“Thank god we aren’t in highschool anymore.” Derek sighed, leaning his head onto his sister’s shoulder as he sleepily ate his pancakes.

“Do either of you work today or are you just going to laze around the house?” Peter asked, one eyebrow raised in judgement.

“We get it Uncle Peter.” Derek sighed.

“Yeah, we know.” Laura frowned, faux irritated.

Brother and sister joined forces to say, “When I was your age I was raising three kids on my own and trying to write a novel!” dramatically and in sync.

Peter just waved away their playful mocking, “If you can repeat that back to me then the meaning should be clear by now. I just want you two to find your passion and run with it. We have the rare privilege of being able to chase our dreams. Don't waste it my loves.”

Almost identical faces nodded solemnly at his words, their minds wandering to questions of the future.

“Well we know what Cora will be doing at least.” Laura said with a fond smile.

“Ah yes. Speaking of our little veterinarian in the making I need to go check on our new friend.” Peter remembered the snake he’d left on the counter to eat his breakfast.

“That's my cue to leave.” Laura said hurriedly as she pushed her chair back and rushed to the door.

“Have a good day Laura-darling. Love you.” Peter called from the sink, Derek yelling something similar.

They heard the faint “love you too" Laura yelled from the driveway before getting in her car.

Peter had been slightly worried that the snake would be too injured to handle live prey, and was relieved to see him curled happily in the corner of the sink, swollen where the mouse was digesting.

-

“Uncle! I’m home!” Cora sang as she barged into the once peaceful house.

“How was jail?” Peter asked from his place on the couch.

“Hi home, I’m Derek.” Derek called out from the kitchen before giving a loud snort of laughter at his own joke.

“Fucking nerd.” Cora mumbled as she set her bags down by the door.

“It seems our little devil missed you.” Peter said with a smile as the chocolate snake that was curled around his forearm began slithering up his arm and across his shoulders to flick its tongue out in greeting.

“Hey there little guy. How ya feelin’?” Cora murmured to the pleased snake.

The snake slid up onto Cora’s outstretched hand and curled himself around her arm.

“He’s physically healed by now, so when do you think he’ll be okay to shift back?” Laura asked more likely out of a desire to not see a snake every day than concern for the creature’s well being.

“He can shift back whenever he wants. He should’ve finished healing earlier today.” Peter informed with a shrug.

Cora laughed as the little devil let out a quiet hiss in Laura’s direction before moving across her shoulders to watch Laura haughtily.

-

Peter woke up wrapped too tightly in the blankets and burning up. He cracked his eyes open and was met with messy brown hair and pale skin instead of his navy comforter. His brain was instantly running at normal speed, shaking off sleep quickly. The snake had finally shifted back, but was it on purpose or did he shift back in his sleep? If Peter spooked him he could easily shift back and remain a snake until he was comfortable again.  

Peter decided to slowly wake him up and try to keep him as comfortable as possible. The boy was completely wrapped around Peter; one leg hiked high on Peter’s hips, the other was hooked around Peter at their ankles. He had one arm across Peter’s chest, his hand gripping Peter’s collar bone, and one arm curled around Peter’s arm that was between their bodies. The boy’s head was resting on Peter’s chest and tilted away from view, so Peter still had no idea what he looked like or how old he was.

Peter slowly reached with his free hand and started rubbing slow circles up and down the boy’s arm before he mumbled lowly, “Little devil. Wake up my little demon. It’s time to get up honey.”

The most gorgeous boy Peter had ever seen blinked sleepily at him and let out a questioning hiss, giving Peter a wonderful view of the boy’s pouty mouth and sensuous tongue behind pretty teeth.

“You shifted back Little devil. Can you talk yet?” Peter murmured lowly, still rubbing slow circles on the boy’s arm.

The boy blinked again and looked down at his pale arm that still rested on Peter’s bare chest. He slowly looked back up into Peter’s eyes, amber meeting oceanic blue, before letting out a yelp and shooting off the bed.

“Oh god I’m so sorry!” The boy started panicking, his heart beat loud in the once quiet room.

Before Peter could try to calm the boy down his bedroom door burst open and a frantic, half awake Cora was in his doorway shouting, “Is everything okay? Why are both of you freaking out?” a pause as her eyes caught up with her mouth, “You shifted back! Hello! Did Uncle freak you out?”

The boy didn’t even have time to blame Peter before Cora was hitting him on the shoulder with more force than necessary.

“I haven’t done anything. Our guest here has only just realized he shifted back in his sleep.” Peter explained calmly, standing up to put on clothes.

“How did you hear our hearts?” the boy inquired, his panic giving way to curiosity.

“Our Cora-baby here has the best hearing, but she apparently didn't have the frame of mind to recognize that two human hearts were racing.” Peter answered, raising one eyebrow at Cora for not realizing the snake had shifted and that was why he was panicking.

Cora gave a weak, awkward laugh before mumbling, “Well I’ll leave you two alone to talk alpha to snake or whatever.”

Peter smiled at the closing door before tossing the boy a shirt and a pair of basketball shorts.

“You can put those on if you want.” Peter sat on the bed before continuing, “What’s your name sugar?”

“Stiles.” The boy answered quietly as he pulled the shorts on.

“Hello Stiles. My name is Peter and I am the Hale Alpha. Do you have a pack or family I should contact?” Peter asked, getting the formalities out of the way.

“No.” This reply was quieter.

“Okay, love. How old are you?” Peter asked finally turning to look at the now dressed boy.

“I’m twenty.” Stiles replied, this one at least was a normal response.

“So you’re in between Derek and Cora’s ages. That’s good. Why were you hurt?”

“A werejaguar hunted my family, and I was the only one able to escape.” The words a whisper in the quiet room.

“Why would it do that?”

“My father is a sheriff and had connected her to several homicides. She killed him first. My mother and I were on the run for two years before she found us two towns over. I’m harder to track and fight when I’m shifted so I ran after she-” Stiles broke off as tears began falling down his face harder than before.

Peter approached the boy slowly and pulled him into a tight hug, one hand softly rubbing circles in the boy’s back. He didn’t know who this boy was, who his parents had been, but he was going to end his suffering so that the boy could have peace and justice for his parents.

“You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” Peter mumbled into the boy’s hair, gently rocking them side to side.

Stiles slumped further into his arms and sighed “Werewolves are so warm.”

Peter smiled and continued to comfort the boy until he realized the boy in his arms was asleep.

“Well that’s one way to calm down.” Peter chuckled to himself before swaying them over to the bed and laying Stiles down.

-

“As long as he doesn’t get his weird snake body on me I am happy.”

“Oh shut up. He probably doesn’t even want to touch you to begin with.”

“Children. Please.”

“I’ll be happy to have him Uncle Peter.”

“Thank you nephew dear. Girls?”

“You know I’m in Uncle!”

“Yes Peter.”

“Good. Now if you’re finished listening in, Stiles, please join us.”

Shit. He’d been caught. Of course he’d been caught they were werewolves, and he knew that at least one of them could hear his heartbeat across the house in Peter’s bedroom. Stiles hung his head guiltily as he entered the living room where the four werewolves had been discussing something about him. He hoped they were discussing keeping him, not eating him or something.

“Hi.” was all Stiles could say as he sat down next to Peter in the only available seat.

“Hello Stiles.” Cora chirped with a cheery wave.

He smiled at her before turning to look into Peter’s very handsome face. He tried to push down the memory of Peter’s stirring dick against his thigh when he’d awoken and realized he was naked and sprawled atop Peter’s only slightly more clothed body. When he was shifted he knew he prefered Peter’s heat and arms to Cora’s, but both human and snake had always been a fan of thick meaty arms. It’d been so long since Stiles had been able to actually think about love and sex and ending up in Peter’s lap, literally and metaphorically, had been a blessing because the man checked every single one of Stiles’ boxes.

“I didn’t hear much.” Stiles mumbled, unable to look into Peter’s intense eyes.

“That doesn’t bother me sugar. Listen to anything you want. We hear everything anyways.” Peter used two fingers to lift Stiles’ face to look at him properly before continuing, “I have something to ask you sweet boy.”

Stiles immediately flushed as ideas of things he wished Peter would ask him flashed through his mind.

“Shoot.” was all he could force out without risking saying something embarrassing like “Yes I will go down on you.”

“Would you like to join our pack? We can protect you and I can help you get justice for your parents. I want to help you Stiles, and my pack has agreed that we want you.”

Stiles was speechless. All thoughts of sexy time with Peter were drowned out by the wave of grief he felt at the mention of his parents deaths, but then that too was replaced with bright, shiny hope as he realized just how much protection he could have if he was surrounded by four grown werewolves. Peter was giving him a boon and Stiles was floored by his generosity.

“You don’t have to reply right-”

Stiles cut Peter off by hurriedly saying, “Yes! Yes Alpha Hale please accept me into your pack.”

“With pleasure sweet boy.” Peter’s grin was so blinding in its beauty that Stiles almost didn’t hear the happy words the Hale betas were saying to him.

-

“Thank you Peter.” Stiles knew it was the fifth time he’d thanked his alpha, but he honestly wasn’t going to be stopping anytime soon so he didn’t feel bad about it.

“Anything for you my sweet boy.” Peter spoke lowly, his voice a rough whisper across Stiles cheek as his hands came up to cup Stiles’ face.

“You’re so good to me.” Stiles whispered, closing his eyes against the intensity of Peter’s gaze.

“You’re good to me too, love. Have been since that first night. I sleep better with you in my bed. I breathe better with you in the room. I am better with you in my life.” Peter’s confession left his lips and wrapped itself tightly around Stiles’ heart much like the many times he had wrapped himself around Peter.

“You’ve saved me.” Stiles breathed out his eyes still shut tight against his and Peter’s feelings.

“I will always make sure you’re safe. You’re mine, little devil” Peter only used the name he’d give Stiles all those months of pining and sexual tension ago when he was just a nameless injured snake that Peter had protected.

“Will you be mine, Alpha?” Stiles asked, finally opening his eyes to look at Peter’s blood smeared body, knowing it matches his own, and his heated gaze.

“Whatever you want my sweet little devil.” Peter whispered before closing the gap and kissing Stiles beside the cooling corpse of his parents’ murderer.

[glowwormsmith]

Joseph seed fanfic please?

Sorry,this is late anon! I wish I could write faster, but I hope you like thisregardless.

 So,since you didn’t specify what type of story you wanted anon (except to have itfocus on Joseph, hooray), I just went self-indulgent as hell and did aplatonic, semi-AU with my OCs that may lead to a fix-it fic of ND, oops.

 Imay continue this, depends if you all like it or if I have any motivation/timeto do so (motivation what motivation? Also, I’m a grad student, there is notime anymore). Hope you guys enjoy!

 Warnings:Some language, some gore/violence, child endangerment

Everythingthat had led up to this point was a blur. The only clear memory was the finalstand between him and the Deputy, where he had fallen. The day was beautifuland clear, the air still. No wind, no animal cries. And then the sirens wailedand the bombs fell. He knew The Collapse had arrived in all its fury andrighteous fire, and only he knew of it. There was panicking, disbelief, cryingfrom all around him, except from him.

Hehad been shoved into a car, everything was red and ash and heat. He was betweenthe two girls, the younger one trembling like a leaf and the older screaming,eyes widened in shock as her shouts ranged from how they would all die toyelling for her aunt to keep driving. The Deputy was in the driver’s seat,driving erratically, the only sound from her were erratic mumbling of how hewas right and heavy breathing. Her superior was in the passenger, givingfrantic directions to the bunker.

Andthen they crashed. He awoke and let out a cough, the environment making itharder to breathe, his thoughts jumbled but forming faster as he looked around.The old sheriff had gone through the windshield, half his body still inside andthe rest on the hood, his skull split open and eyes glazed over. The driver’sseat was empty, the door open. He looked over. The older girl was unconscious,but alive, head bleeding and breathing slow. He heard a whimper to his rightand saw the little one curled up, eyes wide and form trembling hard as sheregarded him.

Therewas no sign of the Deputy, corpse or otherwise.

“Areyou alright, child?” he said, his voice soft and raspy from the ash. She didnot respond and he offered a weak smile. He saw the bunker in front of them. Heturned back. “We will head there. I will carry your sister and you’ll ride my back.We cannot stay out here long. Alright, Fern?”

Hespeaks gently to her. He knows she is the soft-spoken one, the one who will bemore likely to trust him. She nods, but does not speak. He crawls to the frontand exits the driver’s door. The world is on fire and the air is toxic. Itstings, the sky is black and it hurts to even look around. He has no time towaste.

Heopens her side and lifts the older girl—he remembers her name, Hazel—up withease, putting his weight to carrying her limp form. He goes to the other sideand Fern opens the door. He leans down, prepares his weight and she climbs ontohim, wrapping her arms around his neck. She dangles like a rag doll, but herlegs are useless and he struggles. He marches on. He wonders where the Deputyhas gone. Perhaps she has already entered the bunker, but it didn’t feellikely. She would have brought her nieces in and left him outside if that werethe case.

Hewas able to make it to the doors despite his struggle with the two bodies he wastransporting. He briefly put Hazel down and opened the bunker doors, slowly asthey creaked open. He could already hear the old man who had hidden away herecalling up from within. He helped the girls into the top steps and closed thedoors shut, muting the destruction outside and putting things in the dark.

Heturned to Fern, huddling close to her sister. “I’ll be right back, my child.Keep close to your sister.” It hurt his heart to see her timidly nod andshuffle closer to her sister, but it was better that she didn’t see what he wasabout to do.

Therehad been a struggle, but the old man had gone down quickly, even with hiscurrent state. All it took was a distraction from Fern’s cries to turn hisback, and Joseph swung a wrench down on his head, bringing it down a few moretimes.

It was for the best…he would nothave let me stayed otherwise. He looked around thesmall bedroom for anything useful. Among the supplies he found were a pair ofhandcuffs and the tattered remains of the Deputy’s worn uniform in a pile. Hegrabbed the cuffs and pocketed them as he moved.

Hesaw Fern stroking her sister’s hair as Hazel was coming to, emitting low groansand head lolling, but not regaining full consciousness.

Hepicked up Fern first, who let out a few cries of confusion and she begins toflail in his arms.

“It’salright. I’m taking you to a room where you will be more comfortable. I’llbring your sister soon.”

Shegave him a troubled stare but didn’t struggle as he brought her to the infirmaryand placed her on a cot. “Would you like a blanket? Some water? I could grabyou a book, though I’m not sure there’s much here that you would like.”

Shestayed quiet, but shook her head. She used her upper body to pull herself upand drew her legs to her, huddled close as her eyes looked around. “Where’sUncle Dutch?”

“Hewasn’t here.” She gives him a hard look before looking away, downward. He letout a soft sigh and began to head out. “I’ll be right back with your sister.”

Hethen went back to Hazel, lifted her up and checked her vitals. She had a minorhead wound and small lacerations from the crash, but nothing he couldn’t treat.He walked to the infirmary and placed her on a cot. After securing her wristswith the cuffs to the bed post, he treated her wounds.

“Why’dyou put handcuffs on her?” Fern said, an edge in her tone.

“Theminute she wakes up, she will no doubt attack me. I need her to listen firstand when I feel she won’t harm herself or me, then I’ll remove them. I won’t doanything to hurt you or her, I promise.”

Hethen left the room briefly to handle the old man, disposing of the body bybriefly opening the doors and then immediately throwing it out. He glancedbriefly outside, at the world he knew was coming, that the Lamb of God hadwrought…who had seemingly vanished into the flames.

Heshut the doors and headed for the small bedroom where a radio sat on a table.He observed it and began to see if there was anyone out there. Once the sevenyears were over, there would be no need for these machines, but for now he hadto make sure some members of his flock were safe. He had very few things leftand to think on it anymore would drive him mad.

Heheard the emergency broadcast system, but nothing else.

Itwas when he heard the distant rattling of the cuffs and Fern’s voice to hersister that he headed for the infirmary. He saw a struggling Hazel shiftingupward as she pulled on the cuffs and she turned to glare at Joseph. “Where’sAunt Layla and Dutch, you sonuvabitch!? Where are they?!”

“I’mglad you are awake, my child. We have much to discuss, the three of us.” Hepulled a chair forward and sat facing the girls, worry and fury on twoindividual faces. “The Collapse has come. The world as we know it is over. Weshall reside in this bunker for seven years and then step into the New Eden,the Paradise I had prepared my family for, and start again.”

“Saveyour fuckin’ prattling for your braindead sheep, I don’t give a fuck if youwere right!” Hazel shouted, eyes ablaze. “Where’s Dutch and Sheriff Whitehorseand Aunt Layla!?”

Josephclosed his eyes and swallowed his ire. These were children, confused and hurt.They needed guidance and care, otherwise he’d never reach them.

“SheriffWhitehorse was already dead in the car crash. Your friend Dutch…would nothave let me stay otherwise, so I removed him. As for the Deputy…Layla…Idon’t know what has happened to her.”

“Bullshit!Just a few hours ago, you held us hostage and fought with everyone! You killedDutch; who’s to say you didn’t kill the sheriff and Aunt Layla, too!” Hazelscreamed, tears brimming on her eyes as she fought against the cuffs, making anawful clamor.

“He’snot lying, Hazel.” Both Joseph and Hazel’s eyes turned to Fern, small and meek,looking at the sheets and picking her nails. “I woke first. Things were blurryand my eyes stung, but I saw Mr. Whitehorse…through the windshield. Josephand you were unconscious, I tried waking you, I thought you were all dead. ThenI saw Aunt Layla wake up…I called out to her and tried to reach for her. She,she just stared at me, didn’t say aword, and we stayed like this for what felt like forever…and then she ran outof the car and, and I couldn’t see where she went! She…I screamed for her!”Her strained voice suddenly began to break into a hysterical high-pitchedvoice, tears and sobbing threatening to spill over, “then Joseph came to a fewminutes after that. She…she just…”

Theair was heavy with tension with only Fern’s sobbing breaths the only noise asshe struggled to gain it under control. Hazel had stopped moving, and Josephcould have sworn she stopped breathing or blinking with how still she became.The fire in her eyes were extinguished, her very soul crumbling as her facefell with the realization that she may not trust Joseph’s word, but she couldtrust her sister’s. Any excuse or explanation would fall flat at this point andthere was only one thing to accept: Layla Rook had abandoned her nieces, notcaring if they were alive or not.

Josephstared at these lost lambs, realizing that everything that had unfolded waseverything that the Voice had told him would happen and yet he could feel thesame emptiness that these children felt now. He had waited so long for theprophecy that God told him would be fulfilled. He had prepared his family forthis and now his brothers, his Faith, and perhaps all of his flock were ash. Hefelt no victory or self-righteous over this, even if he did how could he gloatto these girls? They had lost their mother, a man—his older brother—whom theymight have called father, they had been thrown into senseless bloodshed, theirentire world had been cleansed by God’s fury, and now their aunt has abandonedthem, to her sworn enemy.

Itwas then that he saw a new purpose laid out of him, right in front of his eyes,now that the Voice had gone quiet with the prophecy fulfilled, as he awaitedthese seven years to leave the bunker and into New Eden. He knew God always hada plan; he had sacrificed his own daughter so many years ago to prove hisloyalty to God and to reward him, God had come full circle to give him thisgift, to begin anew.

Hisstoic face became warm, a soft smile gracing it as he drew closer to them.Hazel did not notice, too lost in her own thoughts, head bowed as herdisheveled light brown hair covered her face. Fern had settled down to noticethe change in him and her gaze looked warily on.

“Thereis no need to fear now. I am not going to hurt you. The sins of your aunt andof the Resistance against my family have nothing to do with you. You’re all Ihave left now. You’re my family. And when this world is ready to be borne anew,we will step into the light.”

Fern’sgaze widened with horror and realization while Hazel barely looked at him, hairrevealing her dark eyes as she gave him a tired, despair-ridden glare. Bloodwas drawn from her mouth as she bit into her lip and her fists were heldtightly together. Fern was trembling again, soft hiccups coming from her mouth.It would take much work to get them to trust and love him like a father, butJoseph Seed did not become the Father without putting any work into it. Heleaned back in his chair with a content smile, a newfound peace settling overhim after all the angry and despair the recent events had brought him.

“Iam your Father…and you are my children. And together, we will march to Eden’sGate.”

[punktylerrjoseph]

ofrenda

The last picture, dark and blurry, sat crammed in between two pages of his favorite book. It was from an old film project his friend had done. The negatives were long gone, but one grainy picture remained. It had been there for almost a hundred years, long forgotten, but well protected within the lines of verse.

Tyler died on the first day of October.

When it happened, it much less of a big deal than he thought it would be. He was seventeen, hit by a car his best friend Jackson had been driving. It was a freak accident- it was in the middle of the day, and both of them were sober.

But Tyler was still dead. His neck had snapped and he was gone instantly, with only a sharp burst of fear.

It wasn’t a loss of life, persay- it was more of a transition. On to the next world, the new beyond. the next world had started with a line. Hundreds of people waited in front of a single window. Surrounded by endless grey walls, Tyler had slowly made his way to the back. Some people hugged their knees and sobbed. Some muttered and stared off into space. One woman had run up and down the line, frantically asking questions. “Where am I?” She’d shrieked, eyes wild with fear. “What happened?”

She had been met with shrugs and vacant stares. She was not the first, nor the last.

The line took ages. There was no way of telling time- it could’ve been a year or an hour. But when Tyler had finally reached the window, he’d asked the question many screaming and terrified people had asked. “Where am I?” He said to the woman behind the window, who had been busy typing something into archaic computer system.

“You’re dead, honey.” She muttered, not looking up. “Tyler Joseph, correct?” He’d nodded, not sure what else to do. “Hand,” she’d instructed, holding out her own. Once he’d placed it in hers, she turned it over, palm facing down, and stamped the back.

It was a triangle, thick and black. Tyler’d looked back up to ask where he was, or where to go, or what was next, but the window was gone. So was the line when he turned around. Instead, he was in a small room. White walls and a white bed stared back at him. A bookshelf sat in the corner, empty and sullen. 

Next to it was a small, black desk with a lamp.

“Hello?” He’d asked to the walls. No one answered.

He’d found out later- hours later- that the door was unlocked. Outside, there was a single potted plant next to his door. He touched the leaves, breathing in the stale air. They were plastic. Fluorescents reflected off of white walls as he walked down the hallway, searching for another soul. There was a common room about fifty doors and three turns down from him. When he went out the hallway on the other side, there was an identical hundred doors and common room. He sat down in a puffy chair, mind overwhelmed. Emotion had left his body. He wanted to feel anything- scared, excited, nervous, lost, angry- but all he felt was empty. As empty as the rooms around him.As time passed, he saw other faces. None he’d recognized. Initially, he’d hoped he would re unite with lost family members and friends, but it was quickly apparent that that would never happen. He would never find them. He could talk, but no one was interested. Once you talked about your life, there was nothing really left to speak about but the uncertainty that plagued every soul in the place. Where were they? What was next? Was this hell?

It wasn’t really hell as much as it was boredom. The bookshelf had every book you could ever want, and endless paper appeared on the desk. He tried to keep himself entertained, but the endless walls and fluorescents shot daggers into his creativity. It turned out the bed wasn’t for sleeping- it was so he could lay down and stare at the perfectly white ceiling.

He did a lot of that. There was no food to eat, no shit to shit. He probably could have had sex, but finding other people was the last thing he wanted to do. He just sat and stared, not knowing how or when or if time passed.After re-reading a random book for the third time, Tyler decided to try to kill himself. He wasn’t sure if it was possible, because he was as already dead, but he could definitely try.

He’d begun to try to fashion a length of paper into a noose when fresh air caught his nose. It was bright, warm, and it danced into his brain, lighting up parts that hadn’t been touched since he’d died.

It was coming from under the door. Slowly, trying not to scare the hope away, he crept towards the door. The air was intoxicating.

Emotions sprung to his chest for the first time since he’d gotten in line. Dry pine smoke and bird cries flew in on the air, bringing promises of a forest. Was he hallucinating? Was it a dream? Had he finally killed himself? He touched the handle, fingers shaking. It was electrifying, the feelings that filled him. He felt alive again.He opened the door to a forest, lit by softly flickering candles. 

Sobs echoed through the needles, carrying to his ears. His saw his friends, hugging one another, and his mom sobbing into the shoulder of his father. Sitting on a table was a picture of him, smiling on top of a mountain. Tyler had just walked into the anniversary of his death. Being back in the real world filled him to the brim with long- lost emotions. Life danced within his eyes, as transparent as he was. He found out quickly that he couldn’t communicate or interact with anything- he could only watch. And when he stared at his hands, he could see the fire-lit carpet of pine needles beneath him. He ached to speak to his mother, his friends, but even complete silence was better than the room. 

Anything was better than the room, the four walls and the plastic plant guarding his door. Anything.The worst thing in the world, even worse than the room, was having to return to it. On Halloween, the last day of the month, he was running around after his cousins, laughing as they shoved handful after handful of candy down their throats. Earth had become heaven, and the room had become a distant, angry spark. 

But on Halloween, the room became larger in his mind. Brighter. It took over, fighting off the real world and forcing Tyler back to his prison. He felt the ground leave his feet as he was thrust back into the four walls, the life leaving his chest as quickly as it had come.It felt like being socked in the stomach with the force of an entire lifetime. But worse, because he couldn’t cry about it. He couldn’t cry about anything. Everything- the joy, sadness, nostalgia, content- left his body in a snap. He was left in the room again, with the hallway beyond the door. He couldn’t even feel upset. He could just sit on the bed and wait. He waited for another year, only living for the time that the forest would sneak in under his door. Sometimes, he feared it would never come back, but there was nothing he could do. So he just waited. Re reading books, walking the endless halls. There was something to look forwards to. He didn’t want to kill himself. He wanted to go back.He continued going back for a decade, and then another. Slowly, morning of his death became smaller and less widespread as his parents died. His picture still existed in old family photos and friends’ diaries, but memory of him slowly dropped existence. His siblings died with his friends, his nieces and nephews. Every year he went back it seemed another friend was gone.

Pictures kept getting lost or destroyed- thrown away by accident, or torn in broken picture frames. Slowly, his and his friends’ great descendants died and gave way to his best friend’s great great nephew, Andrew, who had the last remaining picture of him. 

It had been almost a hundred years since Tyler had tried speaking with anyone connected to him. He’d never been able to find any of them within the long halls of the Place- but he almost never left his room, anyways. The only time he stepped outside the door anymore was when he went back to earth, when he felt the grass beneath his feet and the sun in his hair.

Tyler knew, from seeing his hallmates disappear, that when no pictures of him existed he’d never be allowed to go back to the real world. He’d also leave the Place, but no one knew what was in the Beyond.Tyler, when he could feel emotions, was terrified. The last picture of him sat in an ancient book of poetry, on a bookshelf in the attic of Andrew’s house. Jackson, his best friend, had kept the picture of Tyler when he died, cried with it even when Tyler had been gone fifty years. He’d kept the book with his treasures, a ratty red cover covered in dust. Almost no one had touched it since he’d died.

Andrew looked like Jackson. Tyler found himself following Andrew around in October as much as he followed his own descendants, hoping to catch a glimpse of his old friend in the dark curly hair and patchy stubble. Andrew was as forgetful as Jackson- he’d leave his wallet on the counter, or forget the dog was outside. Tyler laughed, even though it was Jackson’s forgetfulness that had cost him his life. Watching Andrew was almost like talking to his old best friend, and his lapses in memory were endearing.Then, one day, Andrew forgot to put out a candle when he went to bed. He’d set them up for a date, but the girl had stood him up. Tyler wanted to comfort him, but he just sat on the couch and watched.

After crying and eating almost an entire tub of ice cream, he’d blown out most of them and headed up to bed.

All except one. One, hanging by the curtain, greedy flame licking at the fabric. Tyler stared at it. Watched as it grew, caught climbed up to the wall. There. It had to end there.

But it didn’t. It grabbed the wall, expanding up and around the window. Tyler glanced at the fire detector. Surely, it would go off?

But it was silent. Another unlikely event. Tyler was getting nervous. He tried to touch the fire, to stop it, but of course his hands went straight through. He tried fanning the smoke to the detector. He grabbed for the phone, tried to shake Andrew awake. Nothing was working. Flames greedily ate up the living room and expanded to the upstairs, finally waking up Andrew.He screamed and called 911, trying to make his way out of the house. 

Tyler watched, hopelessness building within him, as Andrew jumped out of the window and broke his foot. 

The firemen arrived, but it was too late for Tyler. The fire had reached the attic and ate away at the bookshelf, the ragged red cover, and finally, the picture. Tyler looked down at his shaking hands, the black triangle starkly contrasting the flickering light behind it. Shouts echoed through his mind along with the smell of smoke, but the world faded. 

Tyler was back in a room, but not the room. It was darker, grimier. Fear jumped in his stomach at the emotions that still swelled within him, the heat that held in the air.Red hot pain suddenly lanced through his back, ripping a scream out of his mouth. He bucked as the pain forced its way into his mouth. His entire body felt like it was on fire, lines tracing and crossing over his skin. Tyler arched his back, where the pain was concentrated, heat searing his skin. He shrieked as if it would never end, because it felt like it never would. It only got worse. His forehead erupted with slicing agony. Collapsing to the ground, he held his head, wishing for death. Wishing it was over. Wishing he didn’t exist.

As quickly as it had come, the pain left. He laid on the ground, whimpering as his muscles unconstricted.

Flinching at every sound, he waited for the agony to come back. Minutes dripped by. It didn’t come back. He was sore, his body didn’t feel like his own. But he wasn’t being hurt.  Slowly, he stood. When he looked down at his hands, the black triangles had multiplied, spreading over his skin. His veins were black and pronounced over thick, corded muscle.His tongue prodded the long teeth that stuck over his lips. Fangs. Tyler had fangs. His fingers shook, fear pounding around his mind.

He tried to run his hands through his hair, but something stopped him. Big, bony horns curled out of his forehead. They were solid and sharp at the end, and he cut his finger as he ran it over.

A shard of glass on the floor caught his eye. He glanced at it slowly, scared at what he would see. Dipping around the side of his back were wings, heavy and black. He reached back to feel them, wincing at the pain that started through his body. Blood dropped to the floor from his cut finger.

By the door rested an iron pitchfork, tips covered in blood. He shuddered as he felt his wings, now hyperaware, brush against the ground. “Mr. Joseph?” A voice called as the door creaked open.

Another demon, freakish and unworldly, stepped through the door. He was tall, powerful, with long black horns and a mane of thick, flowing hair. A pencil rested behind his ear, and he held a staff in his left hand. Leaning against the stone wall, he looked Tyler up and down.“Where am I?” Tyler asked, knowing full well what the answer was.

“Well, Mr. Joseph,” the demon laughed, tapping a pencil against his sharp teeth. “You’ve got a triangle on your hand. If you have a circle, you get to go up there,” he pointed to the black ceiling, “and live in eternal peace.” He laughed, lip curling into a mocking snarl. “Here, though, we are not brownnosers. We do not believe in peace. We wage war where we see fit, defend ourselves and those we love. We are honest about what we want. We have dignity, courage, and pride. “ the demon smiled, tossing his pitchfork to Tyler. It glinted in the low life. “Welcome to Hell.”

[writinanon]

Country Skies

With the help of @wafflii I have fallen into another AU. Expect another chapter of Reverberations and possibly Covenants soon. I want to find the right creepy atmosphere music for Covenants before I delve deeper into it. Also I’m not very good with timelines and there’s a bit of confusion for FC5′s timeline so I’m just going to wing it.

Stella belongs to me but Tammy belongs to @wafflii she’s a sweet heart.

  The tender age of 10 was the last time that Stella saw her Dad. He’d just come home with burns on his face and had trouble adjusting. Her mother couldn’t handle it and filed for divorce. An incident with him having night terrors had been all she needed to gain sole custody of Stella. They talked on the phone for a while, her Dad calling almost every night but it slowed to a week, two weeks, a month, once in a few months, and then finally on her 13th birthday was the last call he made to her. Stella had been crushed, had wondered if something was wrong, he didn’t sound well. Her mother wouldn’t let her go and see him. A small part of her hated her mother for that. Stella would never forgive her for completely cutting her Dad out of her life or for forcing another man into it. She never called James ‘Dad’ or ‘Father’ she always called him James. He never really seemed bothered by it but it bothered her mother and they had many fights about it.

  Stella hadn’t thought much of her Dad for a while now, she’d tried to find him, still tried around Father’s Day and his birthday, but she had a life now and couldn’t spend all of it chasing Jacob Seed. She transferred into the Sheriff’s Department of Hope County because they needed a new Anthropologist to figure out if bone remains were human or animal, and once properly identified if they were Native American and for her to go through the proper channels. She was 23 and while she was still working on her master’s degree she had all the necessary skills to identify bones and knew the proper channels to connect to in case it was a disturbed Native American grave site. She was given the title of Junior Deputy Sheriff, which she felt was a little much, Deputy Sheriff would have been fine. She vaguely recalled hearing about a Joseph Seed running a cult but it hadn’t come up in the last few months. Until today. Today a US Marshal had shown up with an arrest warrant for Joseph Seed. And since Stella had no experience running the radio Nancy would be staying back and she would be going with them to arrest him. The Sheriff looked contrite. Stella didn’t really understand why until she walked into the church. Her eyes had scanned over the congregation, looking for weapons, before she skimmed over Joseph Seed. He was shirtless and had many tattoos and what looked like words carved into his skin. But she almost froze in shock. Just behind him to the left was her Dad. His face didn’t hold any recognition.

 “Rook.” The Sheriff said and she glanced at him before looking over at Joseph Seed. His face was determined and he didn’t know who she was either. Why would he? They had never met even though she knew all about Joe and Johnny. Her Uncles that her Dad wanted to find again. She placed the handcuffs on him. She was duty bound, it was her job to arrest him.

  Jacob couldn’t shake that he knew the young Deputy that had handcuffed Joseph. Her eyes had been on him the whole time and he swore he knew them and her face. John was grumbling about her escape from baptism as he looked through the files.

 “Ah here she is. Junior Deputy Stella Jean Rook.” Jacob felt like he had been hit with a brick and he snapped his attention to his youngest brother.

 “Jean.” He stressed the French pronunciation. Because he had wanted to name her after little Johnny but didn’t want to name her Jane. John looked up confused. “It’s supposed to be pronounced like it’s French. Her mom had a thing for French.” He lied easily.

 “Brother?” Joseph asked carefully, looking between him and the photo of the young Deputy, piecing it together.

 “She was born November 15th, 1994. Hell, of a snow storm that day. She was born Stella Jean Seed.” He looked at the picture of her, smiling brightly labeled as Sinner. His daughter was a Deputy Sheriff. His daughter had come to arrest his little brother. His Little Star was Public Enemy Number One against Eden’s Gate. He recalled her eyes back in the church. They hadn’t left him once, until the Sheriff called to her. She looked so shocked and afraid, worried about him.

 “I’m a horrible uncle.” John said and looked crushed. Faith patted his back lightly.

 “Joseph was going to let her die in the helicopter so I think that makes you even.” Jacob rubbed his face reminding himself that not even he had known exactly who she was. He looked back down at her picture. Ellie was doing well for herself. He’d have to pull any remaining information out of that Deputy that his Hunters had snatched up. Staci Pratt.

  Stella huffed and settled into the bushes as she heard a heavy vehicle coming her way. She had stopped a few of the Reaping Trucks now. After checking on Rae-Rae and finding her dead and Boomer alone Dutch had let her think over what she was going to do. She wasn’t sure, she didn’t know what to do. Should she free her companions? Wouldn’t her family think she’s siding with them? Should she side with her Family? She missed her Dad so much. Boomer nudged her side and whined softly. She ran a hand down his back.

 “Thanks boy.” She smiled faintly. Now was not the time to get distracted. She took aim and blew out the front tires of the truck. The Peggies scrambled, calling for bliss bullets but she took them down with a few well-placed kneecap shots and shoulder hits. Once she was finished she opened the truck only to find one frightened looking woman there.

 “Please I wanna go home!” She cried, tear tracks of makeup down her face.

 “Okay. I’ll take you home. Where is home?”

 “You aren’t with them?” The shock and suspicion in her eyes made Stella want to cringe but she stepped up and offered her a hand.

 “Deputy Stella Rook.” She introduced herself. “I’m with the Sheriff’s department.” The woman blinked before launching herself at Stella and hugging her tightly.

 “I thought I was gonna die.” She was rambling about how they would probably have hidden her body and Stella patted her back awkwardly before helping her down out of the truck. The woman was a little over half a foot shorter than her. “Thank you for saving me.”

 “Don’t worry about it.” Stella rubbed the back of her neck and smiled a little more genuinely as they headed down the road. Missing the Peggie recording her escorting her latest rescue. “So, it’s a little dangerous to run around on your own, mind if I walk you home?”

 “Yes, please.” She clung a bit and Stella nodded, patted her head and slipped free of the warm gentle grasp. “Sorry. Oh, right I’m Tamara Zoey Barnes.” The pair shook hands and headed toward Tamara’s house.

  Stella took refuge with Dutch, still afraid to face the people of Hope County knowing her family was causing them so much grief. He shook his head and clicked his tongue at her, treating her small scrapes as she handed over more information and stolen weaponry. Boomer gave a happy bark as she tossed him a scrap of beef jerky.

 “Well kid I gotta say you’re makin’ ‘em scared of grabbing people down here that’s for sure.” He looked at the few Reaping movements that had thinned out considerably. Stella smiled a bit and looked at the map. Her eyes stuck to the top of it. The Whitetail Mountains were her Dad’s Domain. So far, she had slunk around on the fringes of Holland Valley and the Henbane River. Dutch knew about her family, he hadn’t turned her over to them because she told him she wasn’t like them. And she wasn’t. She didn’t want to be part of a Doomsday Cult. But she missed her Dad and she remembered all the stories of her Uncles that he would tell. She didn’t remember him ever mentioning an aunt but maybe she came later? She looked younger than John. Her radio crackled to life and both stilled.

 “Hello Stella!” John sounded cheerful as ever. “I have that new friend of yours, the raven haired one, and we’re going to baptize her! If you’d like to join us for a do over you know where we’ll be.” Usually John tried to talk to her about sins and about how only family understood the plight of duty. He always tried to coax her out and to try and get her to come and see his ranch. She frowned as she tried to remember anyone that had black hair and then she realized he was talking about the girl she’d rescued a few days prior.

  Tammy looked around at the men with guns around her. All she had wanted was to come home from studying, maybe relax for once since she hadn’t been able to afford this trip in a few years. The tall man with intense blue eyes was staring at her with a weird smile on his face. They were standing next to the Henbane and he had been talking about sin and washing things away and honestly Tammy was too freaked out to pay much attention. He had apparently asked her a question though and she blinked at him.

 “What?” He chuckled and waved his hand over the river.

 “I was asking if you’d like to be baptized and begin atonement? No time like the present to pull out all those nasty pervasive sins.”

 “What sins? I don’t have any sins! What are you talking about?”

 “Everyone has sins, even my darling Deputy Niece could stand to atone.” He scanned the horizon as he said this, looking for someone. Tammy hoped it wasn’t that girl that had saved her the other day. “I’m sure you aren’t nearly as aggressive in your sins…” A somewhat familiar dog snatched a gun out of one of the men’s hands. Then two of them were taken down with arrows to the chest.

 “I don’t have any sins I haven’t even had sex.” She muttered still shocked. This caused the man to turn and look at her sharply and allowed the dog to make off and distract more of the men. The man was suddenly pushed away from Tammy and a hand took hold of hers.

 “Run.” It was the girl from the other day and she was half leading half dragging her away while she whistled and the dog came to run along side them. The redhead threw something over her shoulder that caused an explosion and blocked anyone from pursuing them further. They made it to a pick-up truck and the girl shoved her inside, followed by the dog, before climbing into the driver’s seat and peeling out driving off the main road and onto the back roads swiftly. “Gotta get tree coverage, John’s got air support.” She muttered more to herself and Tammy gripped the door handle tightly. To think all she’d wanted to do was come home.

  Stella managed to get them to Rae-Rae’s Farm. She had cleaned up most of the blood and herded the woman so she didn’t see the fresh graves. Boomer settled in his bed that she’d dragged into the living room, sleeping on the couch felt more respectful rather than taking over the bedroom. For the most part that girl, Barnes, didn’t look too beat up. A stray bruise or two but mostly unharmed. Her Uncle hadn’t intended to hurt her much she was just the quickest way to get Stella into the open. John and Joseph seemed to think that she was lost because she’d been told lies about them. They urged her to ‘come home’ and be back wither family. She would probably be struggling with it more, if her Dad was the one delivering those messages.

 “Thanks for saving me. Again.” Barnes said and Stella shrugged. The woman grabbed her in a hug again. “No, I mean it that guy was so weird, and he kept talking about sins and looked at me funny when I said I couldn’t have sins because I’m a virgin and…” She got lost in a tangent and Stella patted at her shoulders to try and calm her down.

 “Don’t mention it.” She said and got her settled on the couch. They’d go see Dutch in the morning. Maybe he could shed some light on things. For both of them.

[ramajmedia]

King Of The Hill: 10 Times The Show Broke Our Hearts | ScreenRant

King of the Hill isn't just a show made for Texans. It's for anyone who enjoys a mirthful, frank depiction of surburbic Texas. Fans know there's universal appeal to this series. The show lasted a whopping thirteen seasons, and every one offered insight into the blue-collared average joe. Something else people forget is the nuanced emotion. And with Arlen being set in the conservative South, there's the habit of biding or silencing one's feelings. The show captures this aspect perfectly.

RELATED: King Of The Kill: 10 Most Hilarious Hank Hill Quotes

So, in memoriam of every pang big or small, here are ten times King of the Hill broke our hearts.

10 Hank finally accepts Luanne

Luanne Platter's uncle Hank and her maternal aunt Peggy took her in when she had nowhere to go. Her mother was in prison, and her father was not in the picture. Peggy welcomed her niece with open arms, but Hank was more resistant. He always assumed Luanne would eventually leave, and he didn't see her as family for a long time. That changed in season 2's "Texas City Twister" when Hank basically sends Luanne back to the trailer park she escaped from. So while it takes the threat of a tornado to do it, Hank finally regards Luanne as family.

9 Bill and Peg's excellent adventures

The uncomfortable dynamic between Peggy and Hank's friend Bill continues in season 4's "Bill of Sales". Fans know Bill has been enamored with Hank's wife for a long time, and that's why he helps her with her new job. And Peggy needs all the help she can get because she's trapped in a pyramid scheme. The more Bill helps her, the more Peggy realizes he doesn't respond well to kindness or gratitude. She pretends to be cruel and bosses him around to the point where his feet bleed. This is a pitiful sight that makes one's heart wrench for Bill.

8 Taking care of Kahn, Jr.'s business

Hank watches over Kanh, Jr. as her parents Kanh and Minh go on a business trip in season 4's "Aisle 8A". All seems to be going well between Kahn, Jr. and Bobby until puberty kicks in for Miss Souphanousinphone.

RELATED: 10 Dark King of the Hill Theories That Change Everything

With Peggy not around, Hank handles the situation by himself despite how uncomfortable it makes him feel. He even takes her to the one aisle at the Mega Lo Mart he never thought he'd step foot in. Seeing Hank care for Kahn, Jr. at the best of his ability is the kind of slice of life story people can relate to.

7 The land of the Rising Son

The episode of the The Simpsons where they go to Japan is beloved, but King of the Hill's season 6 finale "Returning Japanese" is equally delightful. This two-parter entails the Hills visiting Japan with Hank's curmudgeonly father Cotton. Cotton was wounded in WWII, and his feet were reattached to his knees. So, Cotton's PTSD stems from his service in Japan. However, it's revealed that Cotton shares an estranged son named Junichiro with a woman he met over there. This also means Hank has a half-brother. These episodes are proof the show is good at plucking heartstrings without ever being maudlin.

6 Boomhauer or bust

Boomhauer has always been considered a ladies man. His near unintelligible, cluttered manner of speech and good looks make the women of Arlen swoon. Yet in season 6's "Dang Ol' Love", it's Boomhauer who catches feelings. He falls hard for a woman who has no interest in dating him. This causes him to spin in a way that audiences were not expecting. After all, Boomhauer was never developed to be more than a drinking buddy for Hank and the guys. Seeing the tables turn on Boomhauer shouldn't be so affecting, but it's like watching a teenager experience his first heartbreak.

5 Mommie dearest

In season 2's "Leanne's Saga", Luanne's mother and Peggy's sister-in-law is released from prison after stabbing her daughter's father with a fork. Leanne's claims to be sober now, and she's trying to patch things up with Luanne.

RELATED: 25 Twisted King Of The Hill Facts That Will Surprise Even Longtime Fans

Hank's excited over the fact that Luanne may finally move out of his house. It doesn't take long for Leanne to return to her old ways, though. She drunkenly ruins a party and attacks Peggy, who has been biting her tongue for Luanne's sake. No longer able to stay quiet, Peggy kicks Leanne to the curb and consoles her disappointed niece once again.

4 Father figure

Kahn Souphanousinphone gets in big trouble at work in season 3's "De-Kahnstructing Henry" and is fired. To save face as he searches for a new and better job, he ups and leaves Minh and Kahn, Jr. behind. This urges his neighbor Hank to step in and help them at every turn. From fixing things around their house to bringing them dinner, Hank becomes a surrogate father to Kahn Jr. and a shoulder to cry on for Minh. This situation is not ideal for Hank personally as there's too much emotion involved. Nevertheless, Hank proves to be a very good egg.

3 Breakdown alley

Bill is a troubled, lonely man whose wife Lenore left him years ago. And he never quite got over it. In season 3's "Pretty, Pretty Dresses", though, Bill really snaps. His deep-seated depression manifests in him dressing up in Lenore's clothes and pretending to be her.

RELATED: King Of The Hill: The 5 Best (& 5 Worst) Episodes

Hank is frustrated by his friend because he doesn't understand Bill has severe mental health issues that were never addressed or treated. It feels like Hank is being a jerk, but he really swoops in and saves Bill at the last second. He's able to give Bill something he was never afforded before — closure.

2 Father of mine

Up until season 3's "Peggy's Headache", Hank's wife had no idea Dale Gribble's son Joseph wasn't his biological child. It was a well-known secret among the gang that Dale's wife Nancy was having a long-term affair with her masseur John Redcorn. And Joseph is their son. Like Dale, Peggy was absolutely clueless about Joseph's paternity. It's when Hank forbids Peggy to stop seeing John Redcorn for massage therapy — legitimate massages, too — that she learns the truth. She wants to tell Dale, but she doesn't have the heart as she sees the secret would devastate him and his relationship with Joseph.

1 100% Cotton

King of the Hill did something most other animated sitcoms cannot bring themselves to do — it killed off an important character. In season 12's "Death Picks Cotton", Hank's rude, misogynistic father Cotton becomes gravely ill following an accident. Hank refuses to accept that his father is dying, and Cotton's deathbed behavior isn't making the inevitable farewell any easier. Hank tries to say goodbye to Cotton, but the WWII veteran mocks him for acting weak. Peggy steps in and sends Cotton off in a manner he deserves. In addition, she lies to Hank and said Cotton finally admitted he loved him.

NEXT: 10 Best Raunchy Animated Series (According To IMDb)

source https://screenrant.com/king-of-the-hill-saddest-moments/

[psych0chiken]

“Hehehehehe, this is great!” he said, watching as two children fled from a monstrous tower of conjointed gnomes. He’d been watching them ever since they arrived in the town. Their first day had been pretty boring, minus the times the old guy kept scaring the boy, those were funny, but the next day? Hoo boy! While he could honestly say the gnomes could barely pull off a disguise to save their lives, the fact that the girl had fallen for it until the boy pointed out something was wrong was been monumentally entertaining! He could never get over how dumb and ignorant humans could be! Of course, now it was coming to an end; the two had caught the gnome leader in a quick trap using a leaf blower(of all things!) to send him flying into the gnome construct, scattering the rest of the little forest men around the area. He laughed again as one of the little bearded creatures got caught in one of those plastic ring sets(oh how he loved those) and got carried off by a goat. It had been entertaining watching their mortal peril, but now that it was over he was getting bored again. Ah well, if today was any indication, he’d be seeing a lot more of those two throughout the summer. Heck maybe he’d get to- He heard the boy shout his twin’s name and turned his attention back to them; only to watch as the kid started to collapse next to his already unconscious sister. His eye widened as he was clearly seeing something no one else did. There were few times he could say that he was genuinely surprised, and this was one of them. “Well well well!” he chortled, “Now isn’t this interesting! I didn’t think that something like THIS would happen!” He began to float away, “To think that kind of power would emerge from them! Hmmm…” he paused to think. If they survived, their powers could prove to be a nuisance to him. Maybe he could- “Yeah! That’s what I’ll do!” He cackled, “Oh Pine Tree and Shooting Star, you’ve got no idea what I have planned for you! HeheheheHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Gravity Falls’ Bizarre Summer Episode 1: White and Black pt. 1

The wilderness of Roadkill County, Oregon could be a majestic sight to those who’d never seen it. The sheer amounts of tall trees and mountainous terrain seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, and if one were paying attention they would possibly see some of the local wildlife as they were passing by. Jotaro Kujo however, had no intention of observing the surroundings. The 29-year old man had kept his gaze forward for the entire ride, his hard and somewhat cold eyes focused forward, with his grandfather sitting in the passenger seat in front of him. The trip they were making was a sudden one, and it had all started when Joseph received a call the other day. Jotaro hadn’t thought much of it at first, but apprehension had begun to fill him after watching he watched his grandfather’s face contort from relaxed, to shocked, and then to stoic. After he had hung up, he had told Jotaro that they needed to go to Oregon, and that it was important. Other than that, he hadn’t gotten any other information from the old man; only reassurances that he’d explain more in private when they neared their destination. And so after quickly packing and boarding the soonest flight to Portland, they were off. Jotaro had his suspicions about what this was about, and they were confirmed after they landed. Their chauffeur and driver waiting at the airport had been from the Speedwagon Foundation. To the public’s knowledge, it was a thriving multinational business that had their hands in several areas in order to further humanity’s growth. Known only to few though, was the Speedwagon Foundation’s hidden operations: the monitoring, investigation and if need be, elimination, of the paranormal and supernatural elements in the world. Once in the car, Joseph had told Jotaro that they were going to a small town called Gravity Falls. For many decades, the town had been closely monitored, as it was a veritable hotspot of strange and supernatural happenings. And recently, it seemed something more was happening. Jotaro couldn’t help but think that it was similar to the events that happened a year ago in Morioh; and when he mentioned this, Joseph had agreed. He said they’d receive more information when they arrived in town though. Which was sooner than he thought, as they had just passed a sign that said with big, wide letters “Welcome to Gravity Falls”. Jotaro leaned forward, and Joseph sat up a bit straighter. It wouldn’t be long now. After about another five minutes of driving, the car pulled over and Joseph stepped out. He slowly walked over to a man wearing the clothing of the Speedwagon Foundation. Jotaro watched as the two exchanged some words and Joseph was handed a few files. After another minute of discussion, his grandfather returned to the car and they set off again. While the car had passed through the town, Joseph took the time to read through the files handed to him. Jotaro couldn’t see what he was reading though; and by the time he had finished, they pulled off on a little dirt road. At the end of that road was a wooden cabin, covered in various paraphernalia and with a large sign on the roof that said “Mystery Shack”, though the ’S’ was crooked and looked ready to fall off. Jotaro had a skeptical look on his face as he got out of the car, before Joseph spoke once more, “Don’t let this place deceive you, Jotaro. The man who owns it is someone I’ve know for over 30 years now. He’s a conman of the highest order, but he is also deeply aware of the supernatural surrounding this town.” Joseph reached into his bag, and held out a folder to his grandson.

Taking it, Jotaro looked through its contents. The folder had a picture of an old man, not as old as Joseph, but still aged. He had a round nose, with wide squared glasses and a strong beard shadow over his lower face. The man’s name was Stanley Pines, age 69. From what Jotaro could see, the man had an extensive criminal record as well, even being banned in several states across the country. While he knew not to judge people immediately(their journey in Egypt had taught him that), he couldn’t see grandfather associating himself with this man. At least, not without reason. “This isn’t a just a routine trip for you, is it?” Jotaro asked, closing the file and crossing his arms over his chest. “What happened?” “The call I received the other day was from him,” Joseph replied, the information not surprising his grandson. “His great-niece and nephew are visiting for the summer, and the other day they had collapsed. The boy was barely able to stand and the girl was completely unconscious. The reason why he called me, was that he swore he saw a something hanging over them. Like an evil spirit.” Jotaro’s eyes widened, THAT was something he was personally familiar with. Joseph nodded, “You understand then. The man I was just talking to had examined them himself. He’s someone who can see our powers and confirmed what Stan told me. I also called him after we landed; the girl has woken up, but she doesn’t have a lot of strength. The boy can get up and move around, but it tires him quickly.” Joseph began to move towards the door, and Jotaro followed behind him. “Stan Pines isn’t a direct member of the Speedwagon Foundation, but he has been keeping an eye on the happenings of this town for us. If anything major happens here, he tells us. He doesn’t have the same power we have though, and we haven’t told him about it. So I’m going to need your help for this, Jotaro.” Jotaro’s eyes narrowed. “What do you expect me to do?” “I may need you to do what Avdol did for you twelve years ago.” The man’s eyes widened. Muhammad Avdol had been the one to fully awaken Jotaro’s power when he was 17; but the process had been… less than pleasant, to put it mildly. “Oi, old man. How old are these kids anyway?” Joseph sighed, while they had encountered those far younger than them with this power, this was still too young for them to awaken like this in his mind. “They’re twins, both twelve-years old. They’ll be thirteen at the end of the summer.” “Yare yare daze…” Jotaro muttered, pulling the visor of his torn, white hat down over his eyes. “Stanley Pines won’t agree with this plan, you know that right?” “Which is why I’ll speak with him; and while I’m doing that, I need you go to them.” “And when he finds out what’s happening?” “Then I’ll explain it to him and if I have to, I’ll restrain him myself.” Jotaro merely nodded, he didn’t like this plan, but it was the only way to help them. And even though Joseph was in his twilight years, he still had good reflexes, and for the most part could handle himself. With nothing else to be said, Joseph knocked on the door…

Stan Pines was not having a good day. Actually, make that two; yesterday was pretty bad as well. It had started off well enough: he had spent a whole day ripping off unsuspecting people with his business, a tourist trap called the Mystery Shack. He’d made a good day’s profit with it, and while he had something to do before he called it a night, it wouldn’t take long and he’d be I bed quickly for another day of money making. But shortly before could take care of his errand, he heard his great-nephew Dipper shout in panic. He had ran to see what was wrong, and saw that Dipper’s twin sister Mabel had collapsed unconscious on the floor. Stan had quickly moved to revive her, when Dipper began to feel woozy and weak himself. He didn’t pass out like his sister, but he wasn’t able to move much and seemed to be breathing heavily. Stan had carried the two up to their room in the attic, and laid them on their beds before rushing down to get some supplies. When he returned, Mabel had woken back up; but much like her brother, she couldn’t move a lot and was having a bit of trouble breathing. Stan had almost been ready to write this off as maybe a bug that was just starting to spread or something, but then he saw it. He honestly thought he was seeing things at first, but when it didn’t go away, he knew something was deeply wrong. A transparent figure was hanging closely over his great-niece’s body. While he couldn’t make out much, the shadowy figure looked like it was smothering and constricting her body. Not only that, but there was ANOTHER ONE hanging over Dipper. The only difference being that it seemed to lighter in color than the one above Mabel, and that it wasn’t hindering him as much as her. It was still a nuisance and was causing visible effects on the boy, but at least he wasn’t fading in and out of consciousness like his sister. Stan had long turned a blind eye to the supernatural of the town, verbally proclaiming it as local folklore and legends. On the inside however, he knew it was very real, and VERY dangerous; so he had to feign ignorance in hopes that it would deter his adventure and mystery seeking niblings. What he hadn’t counted on, was it coming to them. Stan had spent every moment he could that night(when he wasn’t taking care of the twins) looking through the old Journal his brother had forcefully left him. He had hoped that the tome would yield some sort of clue as to what kind of creature was causing his great-niece and nephew harm, but the closest he got was a small entry on spirits and ghosts. He had thought this was it, but apparently a spirit or ghost could only perform a full possession or cause manipulative harm; nothing like the restraining illness that the twins were dealing with. With no other options, Stan made a decision that he had hoped he wouldn’t have to, at least not before finding the other two of his brother’s journals. He called Joseph Joestar. Stan had met the man some 30+ years ago, when he had tried a quick wallet-snatch on the man. While the grab failed, it didn’t end with a brutal beatdown like many would expect. Joseph instead invited him to a high-end lunch with his wife. When Stan had asked why he didn’t attack him, Joseph explained that he had met his longtime friend Smokey Brown the same way. Jojo had offered to help Stan get on his feet; but he had been stubborn back then, insisting that he’d earn his wealth on his own to prove wrong all those who said he’d amount to nothing. After lunch, the two parted on good terms, Jojo even giving Stan his personal contact information in case he ever needed something. It wouldn’t be but a few years later that the two would meet again, though not under any circumstances the two would’ve imagined…