#The fact that I don't know how to draw hearing aids and I said to myself 'oh I'll look up a reference when I line it's and forgot until I

[the-halfling-prince]

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Character info under the cut

This group of six recent high school graduates just wanted to go on a road trip before they all went their separate ways for college. Yeah that didn't work out very well.

1- Vanja Tsui. 18. She/Her. Third generation Chinese American. Planning on majoring in literature. Deaf (wears a cochlear implant). The coolest person you'll ever know.

2- Rebekah Rothschild. 18. She/Her. Jewish. Plays the violin. Probably knows math. Gay disaster.

3- Tristán Serrano. 18. He/Him. The one with a driver's license. Doesn't know how he ended up best friends with five weirdos. Still loves them all.

4- Aleksanteri Rinne. 17. He/Him. Transmasc. Classic loser boy. Soon to be art student. Childhood best friend with Tristán.

5- Eugénie Perreault. 17. She/Her. Has a band where she plays drums. Has ten pairs of tinted sunglasses. Is color blind.

6- Mick Santinera. 19. She/Her. Plays guitar and sings in Eugénie's band. The worst™. Short. No one knows what Mick is short for. Michelle? Mikayla? Whatever.

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Found You- Part 5

Summary: Nearly 10 years ago, you left home after a bad incident with your parents, Rick and Lori Grimes. In that time, you married a redneck down south and started a family. But it all came crashing down when the dead started to walk.

Pairings: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 12.4k

Warnings: language, violence, blood, death

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 - PART 4

Rick sat on the edge of the bathtub while you knelt in front of him cleaning the cut on his hand with disinfectant.

The horde of walkers had surrounded Alexandria, but for now, the walls were holding. So, you took the time to help him since he refused to go to the infirmary.

The kids had been relieved to see their father and grandfather. Rick quickly checked on Judith who to your own shock had slept through the entire thing in her crib.

"Are you hurt?" Your father questioned, speaking for the first time since you dragged him away from the kids and sat him down in the bathroom.

You looked up at him in confusion to find his eyes glued to your bloodstained shirt.

Oh, right. The blood.

"It isn't mine." You answered, thinking back to the woman you had tried to help. "I'm fine."

He shook his head, "you're not."

"Yeah, well, seeing those attackers butcher and murder people will do that to you." You responded with a shrug. "But I'm fine. I have to be."

"I'm sorry."

"Dad, it's not your fault."

"I took most of Alexandria's fighters away from here." He pointed out.

"And if you didn't, that entire horde from the quarry would be at our doorstep instead of just half. You did the right thing." You reassured, putting the cap back on the bottle of disinfectant before you grabbed the roll of bandages from the kit.

Rick didn't say anything as he stared down at his hand while you gently began to wrap the clean bandage around the deep cut on his palm. How he managed to cut himself like that was a question you didn't want answered.

"There. That should do it." You announced a minute later once the bandage was secure.

Rick clenched and unclenched his hand in a fist testing it out and you were about to tell him not to do that before he started to speak.

"I don't know how long those walls will hold."

Hearing the fear in your father's voice was something you hated. Rick was always so strong, always the brave one, but right now he was terrified and the fact that he was showing this emotion in front of you was rare.

"The walkers are spread right around the community. They’re not all pushing against one spot, right? So, it'll be fine." You insisted with fake confidence.

You had no idea if those walls would hold either, but Rick needed some kind of reassurance right now, so you were going to give it to him.

"We keep people inside the community quiet, so we don't draw the dead to one part of the wall. If we do that, those walls will hold long enough for Daryl and the others outside to come back and lure them away. That's the plan."

Your father nodded, "okay. That could work."

"It will work." You corrected, reaching forward and resting your hand on his knee. "Now you need to go out there and speak to the community. Deanna isn't in the right headspace at the moment, you need to be the leader."

"Let's go then." He said, standing up from the edge of the bath.

You quickly packed away the first aid kit under the kitchen sink before dashing upstairs and grabbing your weapons belt. You took your handgun from the back of your waistband and secured it in the holster attached to the belt before double checking that your hunting knife was in the sheath and once you were satisfied that everything was in place, you went back downstairs.

The boys were waiting by the front door for you. Rick already walking down the street with Carl holding Judith following behind him.

"Is there really walkers surrounding our home?" Dean asked.

You nodded, "there is. But dad and Uncle Merle will draw them away with the car and bike soon."

The boys both nodded, seeming satisfied with that answer and weren't too worried about the giant herd of the dead outside the walls which was a small relief, because you did not have time to handle one of them if they had a meltdown about it.

You and the boys made your way down the street, following Rick and Carl, and to your surprise most of the Alexandrians were already by the front gate, well, the Alexandrians that were still alive anyway.

They all looked panicked, terrified while the growls of walkers came from past the gate.

"You can hear it. Some of you saw it." Rick began to say, addressing the group of people in front of him. "They got back here, half of them. Still enough to surround us 20 deep. Look, I know you're scared. You haven't seen anything like this. You haven't been through anything like this. But we're safe for now."

The confidence and strength in your father’s voice was finally back. The worried and fearful tone from earlier completely gone and replaced with his inner Police Officer voice that he used to get people to listen, and it seemed to be working.

Everyone was staring straight at him, they were all scared, but were looking at him for guidance.

"That panel the truck hit seems intact. We reinforce it just in case. Either way, the wall's gonna hold together. Can you?" Rick asked, looking around at everyone. "The others, they're gonna be back."

"They're gonna be back." Rosita nodded, backing him up.

"Daryl, Merle, Abraham, they have vehicles. They're gonna lead 'em away, just like the others. And Glenn and Nicholas are gonna walk back through the front gate after. They know what they're doing. And we know what we need to do. We keep noise to a minimum. Pull our blinds at night. Even better, keep the lights out. We'll try to make this place as quiet as a graveyard, see if they move on."

"This place is a graveyard." One of the civilians spoke up.

You glanced over at her to find a few others nodding in agreement.

"The quarry broke open and those walkers were heading this way. All of ‘em. The plan that my father put into place stopped that happening. He got half of them away." You suddenly said, speaking loudly for everyone to hear. "We lost some people today, yes. But we fought and took back control of our community from those attackers. We can do it again."

Rick glanced over at you, giving you a grateful nod while your boys stood either side of you and nodded along to your words.

"I was out there recruiting with Daryl." Aaron began to say. "I wanted to try to get into cannery and scavenge, and Daryl wanted to keep looking for people. We did what I wanted... and we wound up in a trap set by those people. I lost my pack. They must've followed our tracks. Those people who attacked us... they found their way back here because of me."

"That is not on you." You stated sternly, not wanting him to blame himself.

Daryl had told you about that incident and the second you saw those W's on their foreheads earlier, you knew who those attackers were.

"Deanna? Deanna?" Someone called out.

You glanced over your shoulder to find the older woman walking away from the group without a word, but none of you tried to stop her.

"I can take first watch on the platform." You said, looking back over at your father who nodded.

"Can we come with you?" Ricky asked, looking up at you.

Guess there was no harm in the boys joining you on the watch platform.

"Yeah, come on."

The others in Alexandria got to work cleaning up the aftermath of the attack. They buried the bodies of the dead, cleaning up the street while you stood on the watch platform with the boys overlooking the horde of walkers surrounding the community.

A few civilians began to write the names of the fallen on one of the walls like a form of a memorial, and you hated that they included Glenn's name among them. Glenn couldn't be dead. He was too smart to die out there. He would be back, you knew he would be.

"How many do you think are out there?" Dean asked, drawing his slingshot and firing a rock at one of the walkers.

You watched proudly as the rock pierced the walker straight through the forehead before it dropped to the ground, dead permanently.

Ever since they got those slingshots the boys had been nothing but trouble, but you were surprised at how good they were both at aiming with them. Daryl had clearly taught them well.

"More than what we can kill." Ricky answered, flicking his slingshot and taking down one of the other walkers. "It's good practice though."

"Your father would be proud." You smiled, watching the two continue to kill the walkers.

It was barely making a dent in the large herd, but like your eldest said, it was good practice for them, and it was silent, so there was no harm in doing it.

"When is dad coming back?" Dean asked, glancing up at you.

You sighed, staring out at the sea of the dead unsure how to answer that question. Truth was, you had no idea if Daryl or Merle or any of the others were even alive. They were leading the other half of the herd away and it was a dangerous job, anything could go wrong.

Daryl might be dead, and there was nothing you could do.

"I don't know, baby." You admitted, but you weren't going to tell either of them that their father could be dead. They didn't need to be worrying or stressing over that, not yet.

"He will be back soon. Dad will save us." Ricky reassured, patting his little brother on the shoulder. "C'mon, let's go collect more rocks for ammo."

Ricky gave you a small smile before he climbed back down the ladder of the watch platform, Dean quickly following after him. You looked back out along the horizon hoping, praying that Daryl's motorcycle would appear down the road.

He had to be alive out there.

He had to be.

-

"You should go home and get some rest."

You flinched at your father's voice not expecting any company at this hour at night. You glanced over your shoulder just as he climbed up the ladder and stood beside you.

Carol had taken Ricky and Dean home, reassuring you that she would cook them dinner before making sure they went to bed at a reasonable hour while you remained on watch duty.

The sun had long ago disappeared over the horizon, the bright full moon now taking its place in the starry sky above you.

"You need rest too." You reminded, looking back at the walkers below.

"I'll get someone else to take over watch duty. Go home, kiddo." Rick said, resting his hand on your shoulder.

You let out a deep shaky sigh, resting your hand over your fathers as you continued to stare at the walkers below. You weren't even sure why, but you could feel tears burning in the back of your eyes and Rick seemed to sense it.

"Come here." He said, gently pulling you into a hug.

Everything that had happened today. The blood, the death, the destruction, Daryl and Merle possibly dead... it all suddenly hit you like a freight train and you couldn't stop the emotions that you had been holding back all day from finally spilling out.

"Shh. It's okay. I got you. I got you, baby girl." Rick whispered, holding you against his chest as you started to cry in his arms. "I got you."

You buried your face against your father’s chest and squeezed your eyes shut in effort to stop the tears from falling, but it was pointless.

Rick kept whispering soothing words as he held you and for the first time all day, you felt safe while in his arms and allowed yourself to let your guard down while you cried.

"It's going to be okay."

You shook your head against his chest and pulled away, "you don't know that."

Rick smiled sadly at you before he reached up and brushed the tears off your face with his thumbs.

"We've come back from harder things. Daryl will come back. They'll all come back." He reassured, dropping his hand down to your shoulder. "The Dixon brothers are too damn stubborn to die out there anyway, you know that."

You chuckled wetly, but nodded in agreement, "ain't that the truth."

Rick smiled, "go home and get some sleep. It's a new day tomorrow."

You nodded, looking at the walkers one last time before you descended down the ladder and made your way back to your house.

To your relief, the house was quiet as you entered.

Carol and Michonne's bedroom doors were shut indicating that they were asleep and after quickly checking upstairs your boys were fast asleep in their beds in their shared room. You peeked your head into Carls room, but he wasn't inside, so you went back downstairs to the other bedroom where Judiths crib was and found your brother passed out on the chair beside his sisters' crib.

You grabbed a spare blanket from the closet and silently stepped into the bedroom, draping the blanket over Carls body before glancing in the crib at Judiths sleeping form.

All the kids were safe and asleep.

You made your way back out into the main room of the house before collapsing down onto the couch that was facing the front door. You pulled your scoped rifle from over your shoulder and laid the gun across your lap while you stared at the front door on high alert.

-

You must have eventually fallen asleep because the next thing you knew, you were blinking your eyes open to find daylight now streaming in through the gap under the front door.

Someone was tinkering away in the kitchen, but the rest of the house was still quite so you figured it was fairly early in the morning.

Throwing the rifle back over your shoulder you stood up with a stretch and made your way into the kitchen to find Carol pulling out two pieces of toast from the toaster.

"Oh, good, you're awake. Just in time." She greeted with a smile. "What do you want on your toast?"

You weren't hungry in the slightest and the thought of eating anything made you feel nauseous, but knew you needed to eat since all you had yesterday was a pancake and coffee in the morning.

"Whatever you're having." You replied.

Carol nodded before spreading honey over the pieces of toast and cutting them in half.

"You slept on the couch?" She asked, although it was clear she already knew the answer.

"Yeah, just wanted to be ready in case..." You trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence but she hummed in acknowledgement, knowing what you were trying to say.

"Eat. You need it."

You took one of the halves of toast and ate it without arguing, Carol doing the same while she started to boil water for coffee.

Coffee was definitely something that you needed.

Suddenly, the front door opened, and Rosita walked inside.

"Here." You said, holding out the plate with your other half of toast sitting on it.

"Thanks." She smiled, taking the food while Carol grabbed an extra mug to make her a coffee too without needing to ask. "So, I was thinking about doing a training session today with anyone who wants to learn how to use a knife or machete."

That was actually a good idea. There were Alexandrians that would want to learn how to fight, especially with the walkers surrounding the community at the moment. They would want to know how to protect themselves.

"That's great. Do you need help?" You asked.

She shook her head, "no. I'll be fine. I was coming by to see if your boys wanted to join in? I saw them yesterday up on the platform with their slingshots, they're good. Do you want them to participate in the training?"

"It definitely wouldn't hurt." You nodded. "Daryl and I have taught them the basics with hunting knives, but they could use a refresher. Thanks."

"Here." Carol said, handing you both mugs of coffee. "It's good for people to be prepared. These civilians need to learn how to fight, even the other kids in town too. I'll spread the word and convince people to join."

Rosita nodded taking a sip of her drink while you drank yours too. The three of you fell into silence for a few minutes enjoying the coffee while you could.

"Has anyone seen my dad?" You eventually asked, putting the empty cup down on the table, but they both shook their heads. "I should go find him, see what he has planned for today. Carol can you-"

"I'll watch the kids. Don't worry."

You smiled, "thank you. I'll see you guys later."

You made your way outside, heading straight to the front of the community to check on the wall that the truck had crashed into. Maggie was up on the watch platform keeping an eye on things and no doubt waiting for a signal from Glenn.

You walked along the front wall, inspecting every post and metal sheet for damage, but it was still holding. Rick and Tobin were reinforcing the part where the truck had hit it.

"Need a hand?" You called out watching your father hold a wooden board steady while Tobin hammered it into place with nails.

"Actually, yeah. We wanna build up a brace here just to be safe." Tobin explained motioning towards the damaged part of the fence. "Are you able to run to my place and grab more nails? They're in the garage. My house is number 32."

"Of course, I'll be back in a sec." You said, already turning around and making your way back down the street.

Your eyes scanned the houses on the side of the road because you had no idea which one Tobin’s place was as you looked at the numbers on the old mailboxes until you found the right one.

It wasn't hard to find the packet of nails that were sitting on the workbench inside his garage, and you hurriedly made your way back towards the front of Alexandria to help them build a brace.

"Spencer! Hey, Spencer, get back here!" Your fathers voice shouted in the distance.

Without looking, you knew whatever was happening was bad just by the angry tone of your dad’s voice. What the hell was Spencer up to?

You jogged in the direction of his voice to find your father standing on one of the lookout points along the wall, staring at something outside the community.

Wait, was Spencer outside the walls?

"Spencer!" Tara yelled, matching your fathers’ anger.

Tara and Eugene were standing up on one of the other lookout points which was closer than where your father was further down the wall, so you hastily climbed the ladder up to them to see what was going on.

Spencer had apparently thought it was a good idea to use a grappling hook because he was currently crawling upside down on a rope tied between the wall of Alexandria and a nearby building with the mass number of walkers directly below trying to reach up at him.

Oh, that was a terrible idea.

"Shit. This isn't going to end well." You muttered under your breath, already climbing over the top of the wall to get a better view.

You used the beam on the outside of the wall for stability before you pulled the rifle from your back just as the hook at the end of his rope gave way. Spencer held onto the rope for dear life as it swung him back, his body slamming into the wall of Alexandria before he toppled to the ground amongst the dead.

Your father was shouting at Spencer to climb while you raised your rifle and frantically started to shoot the walkers closest to him.

"Eugene, have Maggie and Rosita fire their guns out from their posts." Tara hurriedly said.

"Why?"

"Just do it!" She ordered, already climbing over the fence beside you with her handgun drawn to help take out the walkers.

Spencer quickly grabbed the rope again and started to climb up it while your father grabbed the other end of the rope, using all his strength to haul Spencer up to safety.

You worked the bolt on the rifle before lining up the next walker by Spencers legs and squeezed the trigger, but nothing happened. The weapon made a faint clicking sound, but that was it.

The magazine was empty.

"I'm out of ammo!" You shouted, throwing the rifle over your shoulder just as Tara’s pistol made the exact same clicking sound.

"Shit. Same." She hissed.

It didn't matter though because Rick had managed to pull Spencer back up over the wall with Tobin’s help. Spencer was safe. Tara sighed with relief before she climbed back over the top of the wall.

"Tara! You almost died once for these people!" Rick yelled at her from the other platform. "What the hell were you doing?!"

Tara looked over at your father with her mouth agape in shock before she flipped him off and you rolled your eyes before shuffling back up the beam to follow Tara over the wall.

"And Y/N, what the hell-"

Whatever Rick was going to say died in his throat when your foot suddenly slipped out from underneath you and you only just managed to grab hold of the top of the wall with one hand, the rest of your body dangling rather dangerously above the walkers.

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking, fuck.

"Y/N!" You heard your father shout, but you were more worried about trying to find a nail or bolt against the metal wall to jam your boot into for support because your hand was starting to slip.

"Give me your other hand!" Tara shouted, leaning over the top of the fence and holding her arm down towards you.

The top of the metal wall was cutting into the palm of your hand, but you gritted your teeth and dealt with the pain as you threw your other arm up towards her which she quickly grabbed.

However, if you let go from the top wall Tara wouldn't be able to hold you up on her own, let alone pull you to safety.

Shit.

Michonne's head suddenly popped up beside Tara's and she quickly grabbed your arm with Tara and tried to pull you up, but you knew it was pointless.

You glanced down at the walkers below. Their rotten hands were stretching up towards you, desperate to reach your feet as you tried to pull yourself up with the one hand still on the top of the wall, but you couldn't.

The metal slicing through your palm was really starting to hurt and one look up at the top of the fence, you could see blood dripping down your arm from it.

"Y/N, hold on!" Ricks voice shouted in the background and a few seconds later your father appeared beside the two women and frantically reached down and grabbed your wrist of the other arm. "Let go of the wall. I got you, I promise. Let go of the wall."

Every bone and muscle in your body was screaming at you not to release the wall, but you trusted your father. He wouldn't let you fall.

Reluctantly, you released your grip against the wall, the pain in your palm subsiding instantly and to your relief, Rick and the two women hauled your body up and over the wall in a matter of seconds.

You collapsed to your knees on the wooden platform back in the safety of the community and sucked in a few deep shaky breaths as the shock of nearly dying hit you.

That was close. That was too fucking close.

"Hey, hey, look at me." Rick instructed, kneeling in front of you. "Did you get bit? Y/N?"

You shook your head and held your bleeding hand up, "not bit. Just got a matching cut like yours."

"Jesus Christ." He sighed with relief before pulling out a rag from his pocket and wrapping it around your palm. "Don't you ever do something so reckless like that again, understand?"

"Spencer would've been breakfast for the walkers if I didn't."

"And you were nearly their breakfast because of it." He hissed.

"Rick, she's okay." Michonne reminded, looking down at the two of you. "They're all okay."

Rick nodded, taking in a deep breath to calm himself before he stood up and looked over at Spencer on the other platform.

"Spencer, what the hell was that?!"

"I was trying to help. I wanted to get to a car, draw them away." The guy tried to explain, but your father wasn't having any of it.

"You ever make a climb like that before?" Rick questioned, the anger in his voice from earlier now amplified after you nearly died. "You want to help? Don't make us come running to save you. You got an idea, you come to me!"

"Would you have listened to me?" Spencer asked, raising his eyebrow already knowing the answer.

Rick glared at the other man but didn't offer up any form of reply before he looked back down at you and held his hand out which you took with your right one, still clutching the rag to your bleeding palm in your left.

"C'mon, I'll take you to Denise to get that checked out." Tara said, nodding over her shoulder for you to follow.

You nodded going to follow her before you paused and pulled out the packet of nails from your pocket and held it out to your father who took it with a small grateful nod.

Denise wasn't impressed with your injury to say the least, but you just joked and said it was good stitching practice for her which she also wasn't impressed with. She cleaned the wound though and stitched it together which hurt like a bitch, but you bit your tongue and dealt with it.

Tara sat beside you watching Denise work and before you knew it, your palm was secured in a white bandage, and you were walking out the infirmary.

There was definitely something going on between Tara and Denise, but you kept your mouth shut about it. Frankly, it was none of your business and you figured the women would tell you about it eventually.

"Mama!" Dean shouted, jogging down the street towards you, Ricky right behind him. "Rosita taught us how to fight with knives."

The over excitement and eagerness in your son's tone was pleasing but also concerning. He was still just a kid, and you hated the fact that they needed to learn that kind of stuff.

"Did she? Did you learn how to use them safely?"

They both nodded and pointed to their new knife sheaths attached to their belts with a knife secured inside. Rosita had given them both knives. You made a mental note to thank that woman later because you had been meaning to hunt down extra knives to give to them.

They might still be kids, but they were old enough to know not to be stupid with weapons. You trusted them both to never use them unless absolutely necessary, so you weren't worried about them carrying. It was for their safety.

"She was a good teacher. Taught us the best ways to cut through bone and everything." Ricky grinned, clearly enjoying the lesson as much as his brother did. "But she taught us safety too. We will be careful, won't we?"

Ricky glanced over at Dean who quickly nodded in agreement, and you smiled at your boys before they noticed the bandage around your hand and frowned in sync.

"It's just a little cut. I’m fine." You reassured, knowing one of them was about to ask about it. "C'mon, let's go see if Grandpa needs a hand reinforcing the front wall."

The three of you wandered back down the main street towards the front wall where you could see Rick and Tobin back at work trying to build up a brace before Dean suddenly stopped in his tracks and pointed to something in the sky.

You looked up to where he was pointing and frowned in confusion when you saw the cluster of bright green balloons floating up high in the sky.

Suddenly, it hit you.

That had to have been Glenn.

Only he would have thought to send up a signal like that. Glenn was out there. He was alive.

"Maggie!" You shouted, jogging down the street towards her where she was still standing up on the watch platform.

She glanced over her shoulder towards you, and you pointed up at the balloons for her to see. She quickly followed your line of sight and froze when she saw the balloons.

Rick and Tobin had stopped working on the wall and had walked over to where you and the boys were standing in the middle of the road, staring up at the balloons in shock just as Maggie raced down the watch platform and sprinted over to you.

"That's Glenn!" She exclaimed happily.

You opened your mouth to respond when sudden loud creaking echoed across the community.

You snapped your head away from the balloons and looked towards the unusual noise and your face paled when you saw the tower outside of Alexandria start to fall.

It all happened in slow motion and there was not a single thing you could do about it as you watched the tower collapse down against the front wall, breaking through it completely.

A cloud of dust erupted as the wooden building shattered on impact and as the dust began to settle, the sea of the dead entered Alexandria.

Oh, dear God.

"Everybody, get back! Get into your houses, go!" Rick shouted over his shoulder at anyone within earshot.

You pulled the rifle off your shoulder, relieved that you had stopped by the armoury on your way to the infirmary to get more bullets before you began to shoot at the walkers as they entered the community. However, after the fifth shot, it was clear that it was pointless.

You took one walker down and five more took its place.

There were too many.

Ricky and Dean had followed your lead and were shooting their slingshots at the walkers too, but by the panicked look on their faces, they knew it was a losing battle as well.

The next few minutes went by in a blur.

One minute you were shooting at the walkers and the next you were running for your lives trying to get to shelter away from the herd. The boys were by your side without having to be told and kept up with your pace as you dashed down the street in the direction of your house when suddenly you heard Maggie's voice screaming.

You stopped in your tracks and turned around, the walkers were following you down the street but what caught your attention was Maggie trying to climb up the ladder of the watch platform while walkers grabbed at her shoes, pulling her down.

"Mum, we need to go!" Ricky shouted, drawing his handgun and taking out the walkers that were getting closer.

"I know." You responded, raising your rifle and lining up the walkers below Maggie through the scope.

You managed to take out enough of them for Maggie to get her leg free and she climbed up onto the top of the platform just in time before the ladder broke away, trapping her up there.

She frantically looked over at you, hearing your gunshots that had saved her, but you had no idea how to help her now though because she was stuck up on the platform with the herd of walkers between you.

"Just go! I'm fine up here. Go!" Maggie yelled, waving at you to run.

That was all the encouragement you needed before you turned back and continued running down the street. You slowed your pace slightly, so Ricky and Dean were running in front of you, putting yourself between the walkers behind you and your boys.

"Y/N!" Your fathers voice suddenly shouted.

You spun around to find Rick, Carl, Michonne, Father Gabriel, Deanna and Ron further down the road, but they were becoming surrounded by the walkers.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"Boys, shoot!" You yelled, raising your rifle again before you frantically started to shoot at the walkers surrounding your family and friends, clearing a path for them to run out.

"This way! I have Judith!" Jessie shouted, opening the front door of her house and motioning for you all to come.

"Inside, go!" You ordered, pushing your boys in Jessie's direction before you went back to shooting at the walkers near Rick, slowing them down as the others sprinted past you into the house before you hurriedly followed and slammed the door closed behind you.

Deanna was bit.

Judith was screaming in Carls arms.

Sam was playing music from upstairs.

Walkers were banging against the door.

So much was happening, you couldn't focus properly as your mind raced a million miles a minute.

"Boys, help me pull the curtains over the windows." You ordered, pointing at the various windows around the house.

Damnit, why did this stupid house have so many windows?

Ricky and Dean snapped into action and frantically pulled all the curtains shut while you raced around the house and secured all the doors. You locked them all, and pulled pieces of furniture in front of them for extra support because it wouldn’t be hard for a group of walkers to break a wooden door open.

Once you were satisfied that the house was as secured as you could get it, you returned to the main room. Carl had managed to get Judith to stop crying as he rocked her in his arms and Jessie's youngest son, Sam, had turned off his music from upstairs.

"Where's Grandpa?" You asked, looking over at Ricky and Dean who were now sitting on the other couch.

"Kitchen with Jessie." Ricky answered.

You nodded, walking down the hall and into the kitchen but froze when you saw the two of them kissing by the table. They both quickly pulled apart when they heard you enter, Jessie smirking a little while your fathers cheeks turned a light shade of pink.

"Y/N, we were-" He started to say before you cut him off.

"None of my business. I was never here." You hurriedly said, turning around and stepping back into the corridor.

Well, you were not expecting that.

You leant against the wall of the corridor waiting for Rick to come back out so you could focus on the actual matter at hand.

Ron walked out the main room and stormed straight past you before disappearing down the corridor with Carl quickly following.

"Judith?" You asked, watching your brother walk away.

"Ricky has her. I mean, Rick." Carl answered, quickly correcting himself with your son’s name.

And wow, after everything that had happened over the last 48 hours, you had completely forgotten that your own son wanted to be referred to as Rick from now on. Had you called him Ricky by accident since? You hoped not.

Suddenly, your father rushed out the kitchen but stopped when he saw you leaning against the wall, clearly waiting for him.

"So, Jessie, huh?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. "You know she isn't that much older than me, right?"

"This conversation can be discussed at a later date, don't you think? Or maybe, never. Yeah, never works." Rick responded causing you to snort softly. "Status of the house?" He asked seriously, a moment later.

"House is secure. Doors are locked and barricaded shut. Windows are covered." You informed and he nodded before glancing over your shoulder towards the main room where Deanna was laying on the couch with Michonne kneeling beside her. "How is she?"

"Fever's settling in. She doesn't have long."

You nodded, "so, what's the plan?"

Rick opened his mouth to respond before loud crashing and banging erupted from a room down the corridor. What the hell?

"Carl and Ron." You whispered in sudden panic.

Ricks eyes widened before he sprinted down the corridor and stopped at the door to the garage where the loud commotion was coming from.

"Carl! Let me in! Carl, open the door!" Rick shouted, banging on the door.

It was no use though because that noise inside sounded like fighting and the door to the garage was locked, but it wasn’t by you. Carl or Ron had locked it from the inside.

"Ron!" Jessie shouted, rushing over to you.

"Back up." Rick ordered, pulling the hatchet from his belt before he slammed the sharp blade down at the lock, snapping it off and the door swung open.

You rushed past Rick into the garage to find Ron on the floor while Carl was using a shelf to hold the walkers back that were trying to push through the glass door that led outside.

"Carl, come on!" You shouted, pointing at the open door.

Your brother glanced over his shoulder at you before looking at Rick in the doorway who was shouting at him to run. Both boys frantically sprinted out the garage and you hurriedly followed as the walkers knocked the shelf down and staggered into the building.

Rick slammed the door shut behind you, but with the lock broken he couldn’t secure it.

You pressed your back against the door and put your foot up on the wall opposite you, using your body weight and strength to keep it shut just as the walkers started to bash against it. Carl and Ron quickly followed your lead, pushing the door shut with their hands.

"The couch. Get the couch to barricade it!" You shouted over your shoulder at Rick who hesitated, not wanting to leave you and the boys alone with the door. "We got this. Go!"

Rick nodded before him and Jessie rushed down the corridor while you, Carl and Ron held the door closed. The growls and snarls of the walkers were loud against the door, and you didn’t even want to think about how many of them were inside the garage right now.

Rick and Jessie returned with Gabriel and Michonne carrying the couch before bracing it up against the door vertically. You quickly shifted off the door and pushed your back against the couch instead, your boot digging into the wall across the hallway to help.

"We need more, and we need to be quiet." Rick ordered, pushing against the couch beside you.

"I'll see what I can find." Michonne said, already disappearing down the hallway.

Gabriel nodded, "me, too."

"I'll help." Carl joined, turning to go with them before Rick spoke up.

"Hey, hey, what happened in there?"

"We were looking for tools and knocked over a shelf."

That was a clear lie and Rick knew it too.

"We heard yelling." Jessie informed, catching onto the obvious lie as well.

"Yeah, Ron saw them break through the gates. We had to move. That's what happened." Carl insisted, sticking with his story.

You glanced over at Carl before looking at Ron, not liking that Carl was trying to cover up the fact that the two of them had been fighting. Why were they even fighting in the first place?

"Carl, there's nightstands in my mum's room. We can brace the couch with them." Ron suddenly said.

"It sounded like you guys were fighting." You pipped up, not liking how Ron tried to quickly change the topic.

"Yeah, but we were fighting them." Carl reassured.

Another lie.

Ron looked between you all but didn't say anything else before he went upstairs to get the nightstands.

"Carl? It's okay?" Rick asked hesitantly.

"It's okay." Carl nodded before he jogged after Ron to help him.

You glanced over at your father who met your gazed with a troubled look, but he kept quiet while the two of you held the couch against the door. The walkers continued to push against it, but the boys returned with the nightstands and with the bookshelf that Michonne and Gabriel dragged across, it was enough to hold the door shut.

The group of you barely had a chance to catch your breath before the barricades you had put up on the front door started to give way. You all tried to save it, but the walkers were now breaking through the windows too, there wasn’t enough of you to hold them back.

"Everybody get upstairs now!" Michonne shouted.

Oh, this wasn't good. This was really not good.

"Get the other couch to block the stairs!" You yelled, dashing over to Judiths crib and picking her up before you ushered your sons up the stairs, hoping that one of the others had grabbed the couch.

"Jessie, where are we going?" You asked, following the woman upstairs.

"My bedroom, it's the biggest." She answered, opening the door to her left and you all hurriedly followed, but Rick and Michonne weren't with you.

"Here." You said, handing your baby sister to the other woman. "I'll be back, you guys stay here."

You were out the bedroom before anyone could say anything and you rushed over to the stairs to find Rick and Michonne pulling a dead walker over the top of the couch that was now blocking the stairs.

"What are you guys doing?" You whispered, not wanting to make any more noise than necessary.

"We’re gonna use it's insides to mask our smell. Then we can get out of here and go to the armoury. We get the flares and use them to draw the herd away from Alexandria." Rick answered, dragging the body up the stairs. "I need you to stay here. You see anyone squeezing through, kill them and you get me."

You nodded, drawing your hunting knife from the sheath on your belt as you stood at the top of the stairs and stared down at the walkers trying and failing to get past the couch.

It wasn't long before everyone was wearing makeshift blanket ponchos covered in walker blood and guts. Jessies sons were both freaking out, Sam more so than Ron and while the other woman was busy reassuring her sons that this was the only option, you were silently proud of your kids who were getting their hands dirty and helping their grandfather cover the blankets in guts.

"You boys good?" Rick asked, glancing between his grandsons once they had their ponchos on.

They were scared. You knew they were, hell, so were you, but they were both putting on a brave face as they nodded.

"This plan will work." You reassured, kneeling down in front of your sons. "Now when we're out there, I want Dean to hold onto my hand and Rick you hold onto your brother's hand and don't let go, okay?”

"What if we get separated?" Ricky asked a little nervously.

"We won't. But if we do, you blend in with the herd of walkers and go towards the front watch platform. Maggie is up on the platform, she will keep you safe until I come find you."

Ricky and Dean both nodded before you looked around at the others who all seemed to be ready to go. Carl had Judith tucked under his poncho securely and you hoped like hell, that she didn’t decide to start crying while you were out there.

"Y/N?" Rick asked, looking over at you with a questioning look.

"We're good, let's go." You nodded.

It was easy enough to slip in amongst the dead. With the grime covered ponchos, you were invisible to the walkers. It was the perfect cover.

Rick led the way out the house and once you were outside amongst the herd, you all linked hands. You ushered your children in front of you and Ricky grabbed hold of his grandfather’s hand with his free one, the other holding Deans.

You squeezed Deans other hand gently for reassurance and glanced over your shoulder to Carl who was close behind you. He was unable to hold your other hand because of Judith under his poncho, but he was holding onto Jessie's hand with his free one and the others were all linked together like planned.

It was slow going through the herd. You had to blend in and weave your way amongst the dead carefully.

The sun was beginning to set along the horizon when Rick managed to lead you all off into a small pocket of the community where the walkers weren't, allowing you all to stop and breathe.

"Alright, new plan." Rick whispered, glancing amongst you all. "Flares from a few guns aren't enough. Too many walkers, too spread out. We're not going to the armoury. We need our vehicles back at the quarry. All of us drive. We'll need to round 'em up. We leave, we come back."

You nodded at the new plan, not bothering with a verbal confirmation as your eyes darted around your surroundings at the nearby walkers who were oblivious to your conversation.

"Okay. But Judith to the quarry and back..." Jessie trailed off, but you all knew what she was thinking.

There was no way that baby would stay that quiet for that long. It was too much of a risk and by the look on your father’s face, he was well aware of that.

"I'll take her." Father Gabriel whispered, speaking up for the first time. "Keep her safe in my church until you all lead the walkers away."

"Can you do this?" You asked sceptically.

"I'm supposed to. I have to." He nodded, looking over at you before focusing back on Rick. "I will."

Rick hesitated for a moment before he nodded in agreement and pulled Carl in closer so he could hand the baby girl over to the priest. You and your sons quickly stepped forward using your bodies as human shields to block Judith from any walkers that happen to look your way while Carl tucked the girl under Gabriel's poncho quietly.

"I'm going to keep her safe." Father Gabriel reassured, looking back at Rick.

Your father nodded, "thank you."

You watched on nervously as Gabriel wandered back amongst the sea of the dead in the direction of his church with your baby sister before the rest of you all linked hands once again and continued through the herd.

Once the sun has disappeared over the horizon, it didn’t take long for it to get dark. The moon was still relatively full providing just enough light for you to see your surroundings.

Out of nowhere, Sam suddenly stopped walking. The kid just stood frozen in the middle of the street with wide tearful eyes frantically moving from one walker to the next.

The boy was about to freak out.

Shit.

This was not good.

Carefully, you shifted around so that you were standing between Sam and your sons, not wanting them near him in case he had a meltdown. Because a meltdown right now would be suicide.

"Sam. Sweetheart? Come on. You can do it." Jessie encouraged, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to pull her son along, but he wouldn't move.

She continued to whisper to him, Ron now helping as well, but then Sam started to cry and within a blink of an eye, a walker bit down on the little boy’s shoulder, another one biting his forehead.

"Mum!" Sam shrieked out in pain, but it was too late.

You stepped in front of your own sons blocking their view from the horror before you, but you couldn’t tear your own eyes away as the walkers teared the little boy apart.

Jessie was crying now, her hand still holding onto her dead son. But her cries were going to draw in more unwanted attention.

"Jessie. Jessie. Come with us." Rick whispered, trying to get her to move. "We have to go."

She wasn't moving though. Her feet were glued to where she stood, her eyes zeroed in on her little boys mangled body and she sobbed quietly.

You opened your mouth to try and say something, but very quickly shut it again when three walkers attacked Jessie right in front of you. The woman let out a pained scream as the walkers practically tackled her to the ground, her pained screams dying out within seconds.

She was dead.

You quickly looked over at your father. His wide eyes were shimmering with unshed tears as he stared down at the walkers on top of Jessie. Whatever the two of them had going on between them was clearly something if Ricks reaction was any indication.

Shit.

Holding your sons behind your back with one hand, you reached over and grabbed your father’s shoulder with the other, forcing him to turn to face you so he wasn't looking at Jessie. Rick's blue panicked eyes locked with yours and you held his gaze.

"We need to go." You whispered, giving him a small encouraging nod and he nodded back ever so slightly.

"Dad." Carl’s voice suddenly grunted in an urgent tone.

You both snapped your heads over to Carl to find him trying to yank his arm free from something. You took a step forward to get a better look and your eyes widened in shock when you realised that Jessie's hand was still grasping Carls tightly and he couldn’t get free.

Oh, no.

Rick reacted quickly and pulled out his hatchet, not thinking twice before he raised the weapon and slammed it down against Jessie's wrist, again, and again until he finally broke through the bone and cut it clean off.

Carl fell backwards once his arm was free, landing on the grass and you carefully stepped over to him. You helped your brother to his feet with your free hand while eyeing the walkers around you cautiously, but most were too distracted by the fresh dead bodies to notice you.

Ricky and Dean were still behind you, Dean's hand grasping yours for dear life and you knew Ricky was holding his brother’s other hand like instructed.

You wanted nothing more than to comfort your children right now because you knew they would be absolutely terrified after what they had just witnessed, but you knew now was not the time.

You glanced back over at your father to make sure that he was okay, but he was just staring at something behind you with a frown like he couldn't quite believe what he was staring at.

Sudden dread filled your stomach as you turned around to find Ron standing a few metres away with a handgun drawn and aimed directly at Carl.

"You." Ron snarled, glaring at Carl. "You."

"Ron, wait-" You began to say, taking a step forward partly in front of Carl and raising your arm towards the teenager about to try talk him down.

Suddenly Michonne speared her sword through Ron's back just as he squeezed the trigger.

Bright hot pain suddenly burst through your left shoulder, and you bit down on your tongue to stop yourself from screaming. You looked down, but you couldn't see anything from the poncho covering your body, but you could feel it.

Ron had shot you in the shoulder.

That little fucker.

"Dad." Carl's voice hesitated from behind you.

You turned around and you felt like you were going to be sick when you saw the bullet wound across your brother’s eye. Deep crimson blood was already dripping down his face and you watched in pure horror as he fell to the ground.

The bullet had gone straight through you and had hit Carl.

Rick rushed over and scooped Carl up in his arms frantically while Michonne began to slice through the walkers that were trying to get to them. Your brain was short circuiting as to what to do as you stared at your brother in your father's arms.

Was he dead? Was your little brother dead?

"Mum, we need to go!" Ricky's voice suddenly said, bringing you out the haze.

Your sons now had their knives out and were helping Michonne fend off the walkers from getting to Rick and Carl.

Seeing your boys killing their first walkers was enough to snap you into action. You drew your own hunting knife with your good arm, not wanting to use your gun and attract more attention than what was already on you.

Everything happened in a blur.

One minute you were fighting off walkers and the next you were rushing through the front door of the infirmary being met with Denise, Aaron and Heath who helped you inside.

You made sure the front door was locked before you grabbed the desk closest and started to drag it across the floor to block it. Ricky and Dean were quick to help, and they pushed the other end of the desk until it was secure in front of the door.

"Thank you. I am so proud of you both." You sighed with relief, glancing between your two sons making sure they were both unharmed before you rushed across the room to where Carl was laying on a hospital gurney.

"Save him." Rick's voice wavered as he stared down at his son’s unconscious body.

"You need to move out the way." Denise said to Rick while she fired off orders to the others in the room to collect equipment and supplies. "Rick."

His entire body was trembling, but he seemed unable to move as he stared down at his son in terror.

You rushed forward and grabbed your fathers arm pulling him away and to your relief, he didn’t try and fight you, but he kept his eyes glued to Carl.

"Dad. Dad, look at me." You ordered, lifting your good arm and grabbing his chin, turning his head to face you until his tear-filled eyes met yours. "Carl is going to be fine. He's strong. We will save him, but you need to give us space to work."

"O-Okay." He whispered, taking a small staggering step back.

You threw your poncho off your body, hissing at the burning pain radiating through your shoulder at the sudden movement. You spared a quick glance down at your shoulder to find your shirt stained bright red from the shoulder and all the way down your side.

Yeah, that wasn't good.

Carl was the priority right now though. Your shoulder could wait. You had to help save your brother.

"Denise, what can I do?" You asked, walking over to Carl on the gurney.

"Here. Hold this." She instructed, motioning towards the towel she had pressed against Carl’s eye. "We need to keep pressure on the wound. I'll go in and sew up any lacerations. I'm going to clean and close this, so I need you to keep following me with the towel."

"Got it." You nodded, pressing your hand down on the towel while she got her tools ready.

You watched intently as Denise got to work. Michonne held a lamp down, angling it just right and you watched as the flow of blood slowly reduced after each suture Denise did.

It was working.

"Grandpa, what are you doing?"

"Grandpa?"

You glanced over your shoulder to find Rick pulling the desk away from the front door while your boys stood back and watched on in a mixture of confusion and worry.

"Dad, what are you- No!" You shouted when he reached for the door handle and yanked the door open. "Dad, don't!"

The front door slammed closed behind him a second later and you stood there with your mouth hanging open in shock.

What the fuck was he doing?

"Rick's out there. I need to help." Michonne frantically said.

"Hold on. Just one more suture." Denise muttered, concentrating on her work.

"But he's out there. He needs our help."

"This is his son. Give me a second." Denise instructed.

You glanced back over your shoulder at the front door anxiously before focusing back down to Carl.

"He's taking them all on." Aaron informed from where he was looking through the window.

"Damnit." You swore under your breath before you grabbed the lantern from Michonne. "Go help my dad. Go!"

Michonne nodded, not needing to be told twice before she sprinted out the infirmary with her katana in her hand, Aaron, Heath and Spencer right behind her.

You held the lantern with your injured arm while holding the towel with the other as you watched Denise work carefully. Her fingers were trembling a little, but she kept her head down and focused on the task at hand.

"Okay. That's it. I need bandages and that IV drip Aaron set up." She ordered.

You were about to let go of the lantern to collect the supplies before Ricky and Dean suddenly rushed across the room with said supplies already in their hands.

"Bandages." Dean said, holding them to Denise.

She smiled at the boys and took the bandages from Dean before she glanced up at you.

"Do you know how to start an IV?"

That was probably the one thing you were actually good at. The number of times you helped the doctors in the nursing home set up IV drips was too many to count.

"Yeah."

You rolled up Carl’s sleeve before grabbing the IV bag from Ricky and within a minute, you had the IV needle in and held the bag up high to allow gravity to do its job. Denise finished with the bandage that was now wrapped around Carl's head before she took the bag from you.

"I got it from here. Go help your dad." She instructed before her eyes widened only just noticing the blood on your shoulder. "Wait, are you shot too?"

"What?!" Ricky questioned in panic, his eyes following Denises and widened into saucers when he saw it.

"It's just a graze. I'm fine." You lied.

"Y/N-" Denise started to say, but you cut her off.

"You can patch me up after. Right now, I have to help the others. Boys you stay here with Denise-"

"No. We can help." Dean argued.

Ricky nodded, "we can kill walkers. We know how."

You wanted to point out that they had only just killed their first walkers in the last 20 minutes, but you kept your mouth shut as you looked between you sons, unsure of what to do.

"Please, mama." Dean begged, his big hazel eyes looking up at you.

"We will stick by your side and help fight. We can do it." Ricky insisted.

Reluctantly, you nodded, and your boys went to reach for their knives before you stopped them.

"No. Use slingshots. You still got rocks in your pockets for ammo?" You asked and they both nodded. "Good. Use the slingshots. You kill the walkers from a distance and only stab them with your knives if they get too close. Understand?"

"Yes." They both agreed, pulling out their slingshots from their back pockets.

With that, the three of you ran out the front door, but you paused for a split second when you saw what was happening.

The whole community was fighting together.

Everyone.

Alexandrian civilians that you had never seen pick up a knife before were out there with Rick and the others taking down the walkers as a team, and it was working.

You and the boys were quick to join in, taking down the walkers with your knife while the kids used their slingshots, shooting rocks through the walker’s heads like knives through butter.

"Is that a truck?!" Dean shouted above the growls of walkers.

You spared a quick glance in the direction he had pointed to find what looked to be a fuel truck parked near the water pond in the middle of the community.

Where the hell did that truck come from?

Suddenly a figure stepped up onto the roof of the truck and there was no mistaking that angel winged vest from anywhere.

It was Daryl.

He was holding a large weapon that looked awfully like a bazooka and aimed at the water before he squeezed the trigger.

Oh, it was definitely a bazooka.

The entire pond blew up in flames a second later and it wasn't hard to put two and two together to figure out that the fuel from the truck had been dumped into the water making the whole thing highly flammable.

The walkers around you were instantly drawn towards it like moths to a flame.

"That's fucking genius." Ricky muttered in awe.

You wanted to tell him off for the language, but instead you let that F bomb slide because he was right, that was fucking genius.

You continued to take down the walkers nearby, but within a few minutes, the whole herd were staggering to the fire, killing themselves.

You let out a sigh of relief as the adrenaline soaring through your veins began to subside now that the threat was gone. Without the adrenaline though, you could really start to feel the pain in your shoulder from the gunshot.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

Your head started to feel a little fuzzy as you blinked a few times trying to snap yourself out of it.

"Uncle Merle!" Dean suddenly called out, and you spun around to find the eldest Dixon running down the street while slicing the heads off any remaining walkers with his arm knife.

"Look at you boys! I knew those slingshots were a good idea." Merle grinned jogging over to the three of you as he stared at his nephews proudly before he glanced over at you. "What the fuck happened here?"

"It's a long story." You sighed, sheathing your knife with trembling fingers.

"Wait, are you shot?" Merle questioned, looking down at your bloodied shoulder.

"It's fine. Just a graze." You reassured, but as you went to take a step forward, the world around you suddenly tilted and if it wasn't for Merle quickly grabbing your arm, you would have been on the ground.

"Just a graze, my ass." Merle grunted in pretend annoyance, but you could hear the concern in his voice.

Ricky and Dean suddenly grabbed your sides to help steady you while Merle kept his grip firm on your arm which was probably for the best, because you were really starting to feel lightheaded now.

Maybe you had lost a little more blood than you thought.

"Y/N?" Daryl's voice suddenly shouted.

You looked over Merle's shoulder to find your husband rushing across Alexandria towards you after noticing the commotion.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." You insisted, although you were starting to doubt that.

A second later, Daryl was in front of you beside Merle, his bright panicked blue eyes looking you up and down before pausing on your injured shoulder. He quickly pulled out his rag from his back pocket and pressed it against the wound causing you to hiss in pain.

"Shit, sweetheart. The hell happened?" Daryl questioned, keeping pressure on the wound as he looked down at the boys either side of you.

"Mum got shot." Dean supplied, like that part wasn’t already obvious.

"It's a long story." You answered, blinking the blurriness from your eyes. "What happened to you?"

"Longer story."

"Denise can help mum. She's in the infirmary with Carl." Ricky informed, pointing back to the building behind you.

"Carl? Why is Carl- ain't important." Daryl shook his head before focusing back on you. "Can ya walk?"

Probably not.

"Yeah." You said instead because you were a Grimes and a Dixon, and you were stupidly stubborn.

Merle raised his eyebrows at you knowing that was a total lie before he let go of your arm and took a step back with a look that said, prove it.

Daryl hovered beside you anxiously, also coming to the same realisation that you were probably lying which was a good thing because you barely made it a few feet before your weak legs buckled out from underneath you.

Daryl rushed forward and caught you just in time before he lifted your good arm over his shoulder and helped you the rest of the way to the infirmary while Merle trailed behind with the boys, reassuring his nephews that you were going to be okay.

"Don't you pass out on me, sweetheart." Daryl muttered under his breath.

"I thought you were dead." You whispered, dropping your head down against his shoulder. "I thought- I thought..."

"Shhh. Save your strength."

You nodded against his shoulder ever so slightly before your eyes began to drift shut and the last thing you heard was Daryl shouting your name before everything faded into darkness.

-

You awoke sometime later to a dull ache in your shoulder.

"Ouch." You mumbled, blinking your eyes open to find Denise leaning over you.

She was securing your arm in a sling which had you frowning in confusion because what did you need a sling for?

Oh, right, the gunshot.

"That's what you get for hiding your injury." Denise replied, standing back up as she looked down at you with her hands on her hips. "You better heal quickly because you're kinda the only other person in Alexandria with medical training. I need you."

You smiled weakly, "thanks."

Denise smiled back, "I'll let Daryl know you're awake."

She walked out the room a moment later and you glanced around realising that you were in the back room of the infirmary. You still felt a little lightheaded, the impact of blood loss still affecting you as you glanced down at your shoulder to find it heavily bandaged beneath the sling.

"Don't ever do that again." Daryl's voice suddenly said.

You looked up to find him leaning in the doorway, biting at his thumb nail as he stared at you worriedly.

"I'm fine." You insisted.

"Ya nearly died from blood loss. That ain't fine." Daryl muttered, pushing himself off the doorframe before he walked over to your bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. "How are you feelin'?"

"Good. All things considered." You answered honestly before a thought suddenly hit you like a truck. "Carl, is he-"

"Denise said that he'll be okay."

Instant relief washed over you at those words. Your brother was alive. He was going to be okay.

Thank goodness.

"Where are the boys?"

"With Merle and Abe. They're worried 'bout ya. But they're fine." Daryl reassured, reaching for your free hand before lacing his fingers together with yours. "I thought I was gonna lose ya, sweetheart."

"I'm still here." You whispered, squeezing his hand gently. "I thought I had already lost you."

“Nearly did a few times out there to be honest."

Your head snapped up, “what-"

"I'll tell ya later. It ain't important right now." He briefly explained and you nodded. "The boys told me what happened. All of it."

You thought back to everything that had happened in the last 24 hours. The attackers invading Alexandria. The tower collapsing. Jessie and Sam getting torn apart right in front of you, Carl getting shot... all of it.

"Are you okay?" Daryl asked gently, and you knew he wasn't talking about the gunshot wound.

"It could've been one of our boys that died. Sam was about their age, it could've been them." You whispered, hating the fact that you could feel tears stinging your eyes.

"But it wasn't." Daryl reminded, squeezing your hand gently. "We taught our sons how to protect themselves. We taught 'em how to be brave 'n now look at 'em. They were helping defend this town and kill walkers."

You smiled softly, "when did they grow up?"

Daryl suddenly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bundle of what looked to be old polaroid photos. Why did he have random polaroids?

"Here." He fanned out the photos before turning them around for you to see.

They weren’t just random polaroid photos, they were your polaroid photos.

"How... when... what..." You trailed off unable to form a single coherent sentence as you stared at the family photos in utter shock.

"Merle 'n I did a trip a while back. Went to the old house, it had been scavenged pretty hard, but managed to find these." Daryl explained, like it wasn’t a big deal. "Was gonna save 'em for your birthday as a surprise but figured you could use the pick-me-up now."

The photos were mostly of the boys from when they were younger, even a few baby photos too. There were some of Daryl and Merle with the kids and a few of them separately. A couple were family photos that Merle had taken of the four of you. They were a little blurry because he was a terrible photographer, but they still looked decent.

There was even an older polaroid of Rick and Shane in their Deputy uniforms. You had forgotten you kept that photo all those years ago.

"This my favourite." Daryl said, holding up the photo of Merle and Ricky who were both flipping off the camera.

You chuckled remembering that day like it was yesterday.

"I can't believe you grabbed these." You whispered, silent tears falling down your cheeks as you stared at the family photos. "Thank you."

Daryl smiled, leaning down and placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

"Hope I'm not interrupting." Your fathers voice suddenly said.

You looked up to find Rick hovering in the doorway with Judith in his arms.

Judith!

Thank goodness she was okay. How could you even have forgotten about her?

"I should go check on the boys anyway. I'll give you two a minute." Daryl said, leaving the family photos in your lap before he stood up and began to walk out the room.

Rick patted Daryl's shoulder as he walked past before your father entered the room and sat down on the chair beside your bed. His eyes flashed down to the family photos, and he smiled softly at them.

"Carl's gonna be okay. Thanks to you."

You looked away from the photos and stared at your father in confusion.

"Denise said that if you didn't slow the bullet down, Carl might not be here."

Oh.

"Glad I didn't get shot for nothing then." You responded, trying to make light of the situation, but by the glare your father sent you, it clearly didn't work.

"Why didn't you tell me that the bullet hit you too?" He asked, glancing down at your bandaged up shoulder. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"You had bigger things to worry about, dad. Carl was the priority."

Rick sighed, "you still should have told me."

"You were freaking out over Carl. I didn't want to give you something else to freak out about." You admitted, thinking back to the aftermath of the gunshot.

"So, passing out from blood loss was your plan to stop me from freaking out?"

"Surprisingly that was not part of the plan. No."

Judith giggled happily at your words despite not understanding a single thing, but it caused your father to snort in amusement which you were going to call a small victory.

Rick glanced down at his youngest daughter in his lap before looking back at you, his eldest.

He opened his mouth to say something but didn't get the chance before Merle suddenly walked through the door, a flash of relief washing over him when he noticed that you were up.

"Ricky, Dean, come here! Your mother is awake." Merle called out.

"It's Rick." Ricky voice corrected from outside the room.

Merle looked back out the door, "but Dean just called you Ricky like 30 seconds ago."

"Only he gets to call me that." Ricky stated, walking through the door with Dean before they both rushed over to your bedside. "Uncle Merle is being annoying." Your eldest grumbled.

"Uncle Merle is always annoying." You pointed out, glancing between your sons before looking over at your brother-in-law who was standing in the doorway.

Merle rolled his eyes, "glad you're awake, Y/N."

"Thanks, Dixon." You smiled before he walked out the room and you turned your attention back to your sons.

"You're okay?" Dean asked, eyeing the sling sceptically.

"Totally okay." You reassured just as Daryl walked back into the room and wandered over to your bedside, ruffling Ricky and Deans hair.

"Boys, come look at these photos." Daryl said, picking up the polaroids from your bed and handing them to the kids while steering them across the room to give you and Rick some privacy.

You sent Daryl a grateful smile and he gave you a small nod before you glanced back at your father to find him watching Daryl and the boys with a warm smile spreading across his face.

Neither of you said anything for a few minutes while you watched your husband and sons across the room before Rick let out a deep exhale and turned his attention back to you.

"What is it?" You asked, knowing that he had wanted to say something earlier before getting interrupted.

"I'm proud of you, Y/N."

You blinked in surprise thinking that you must have heard him wrong.

"What?" You asked dumbly.

"I'm proud of you." He repeated, smiling softly as he stared at you before nodding back towards Daryl and the kids. "You used to be their age. You used to be my baby girl, and now you're this strong, beautiful young woman who has her own family. You kept them alive through all of this. You kept me alive too, not just today, but on many occasions. And I'm proud of you."

Hearing those four little words from your father was something that you hadn't realised you needed until now.

"I'll always be your baby girl. Well, I got some competition now." You fought back tears and smiled looking down at Judith in your father’s lap.

"Grandpa, come look at these photos! There's one of me with my first rabbit." Ricky suddenly called out.

Rick chuckled softly, wiping his own tears from his eyes before he leant forward and placed a gentle kiss to the side of your head.

"Bring the photos over here. Let's look at them together with your mother." Rick instructed and a second later, the boys were jumping on top of your bed before laying out the Polaroids over your blanket to show Rick.

Daryl smiled gently, watching them as he sat down on the side of your bed and wrapped his arm around your good shoulder, pulling you into his side.

"Everything okay?" He whispered, noticing the tears in your eyes.

You nodded, wiping them away as you watched your family in front of you happily.

"Everything is perfect."

-

PART 6

-

MASTERLIST pinned to profile.

Commissions open! Link in bio & DM for enquiries.

A/N: Sorry this new part was a little delayed, but I hope you all enjoyed it.

More parts might be added in the future, but until then stay safe everyone and have a great day ❤️

[randomgentlefolk]

CPC CHAPTER 168

I'M GONNA. I'M GOING TO.

Oh thank goodness Frederick has a cat-like flexibility. No but fr tho. The fact that he can fit in small places and just, fold his body??? He's a cat.

OH I AM SO DOWN TO GWEN, AURELIA, THE POSSUM, AND THE RAT PROTECTING FREDERICK LET'S GOOOOO. Also The possum and Gwen's sharp teeth and Aurelia's spit? Heck yeah. AND THEN AURELIA PROTECTING GWEN!! I'm so glad she had a redemption arc :')

OH. OH. I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. Do you understand the amount of time I've been thinking about Frederick throwing a book at his bullies and Leland to the point I want to draw it but give up midway due to unable to draw anatomy of a person throwing a book? Yeah. And Frederick calling Leland a doofus LOLLLL.

Curtis not being able to see shit but still defending the aid kit station pretty well? That's what I call true skill. I mean he's really fighting multiple soldiers with armor and spear, and he's winning. But man his hand tho. I'm guessing those are from splinter and maybe some sorta swelling from holding the broom too long (idk how to describe it) or smth? Those has got to hurt...

HAHAHAHHAHAH I can't believe I didn't expect she would say that LMAO. Also she looks so goofy in the second image HAHA.

Nah the commander really went for Laverne too... Did Leland even agree on that?

Omg....Lorena catching Suzie....Lorzanna....

Leland's strength continues to terrify me. He just broke stair railing that seems to be made from marble, WITH HIS BARE HAND. I swear the Pastel palace is gonna need LOTS of renovation after all of these end.

"You don't decide what you want" oh bull I say, bull. Boooo Leland rotten tomatoes rotten tomatoes boooo nobody likes you go home boooo rotten tomatoes.

Eugh I'm surprised Frederick hasn't broken AT LEAST a bone with how much he got slammed and thrown hardly. The door broke bro the door broke. His spine...

Now that I think about it never have i ever with syrah would probably be wild XD

Okay at this point I am the most glad that frederick told cpc because otherwise many bad things would happen...

Wait a minute. What happened to spider Prez? I can't seem to remember...Did she pass out after breaking the door?

Wait so the Plaidypus isn't the royal plaid army?? Wait cause I'm kinda confused now :') if someone can explain it to me that would be great.

OH CRAP OH NO.

Shit, Frederick fr need a doctor asap. All those tossing around, the dusts, nah...

Okay this is sad and all but Syrah with the long nose made me giggle.

THANK YOU PRINCEL-WHOSE-NAME-HASN'T-BEEN-REVEALD!! Blaine really missed like ¾ of the war lmao.

I swear cpc is responsible for me learning new vocabularies daily.

OH??? BLAINE?? BLAINE??? I don't, I really don't know how to start.

First of all, there's a new meaning to this. So what I'm getting here, Blaine wants to be at the top because if he gets all the attention, Lance and Frederick won't be in trouble because he thought Leland wouldn't notice him much then. I suppose what's in Blaine's mind is, it's better to be neglected by your shitty parents rather than being noticed and verbally/physically abused by them?

Okay, I'm starting to get it. I'm the youngest sibling so I don't know if I'm getting it correctly, but this is what I get: "I will take all the abuse from our father so you, my younger brothers, can live a happy life without being notices by him."

Older siblings, amirite?

So, Blaine has been trying to protect his brothers but because Frederick keeps upsetting Leland and then making him proud, Blaine's plan keeps on being in shambles?

One thing I'm confused about though. Hear me out, Blaine most likely has golden child syndrome right? So how do we draw a line between which act is because wanting to succeed due to believing that's all his worth, and which act is from protecting his brothers?

Oh but he still owes Frederick and Lance lots of apologies though. Don't think I can forget what you said to Frederick in the dungeon, Blaine. That chapter broke me. To Lance, well, to be honest I don't exactly know what he should apologize about, but I feel like Blaine still has to? Sorry, I'm not making sense. Maybe apologize due to not talking to Lance and Frederick about his plan?? Oh man someone help me–

Imagine this tho: Blaine apologizing to Lance and Frederick for letting them get hurt by father, but then Isolde came and assured him that what Leland do isn't his fault. Haha I love to analyze this guy's mental health.

I hope he goes to therapy after this is all over. The plaid princes really need a lot of therapy. Actually the whole plaid family need therapy.

Okay say goodbye to my professionalism for awhile.

OABDUANSUAKSBW BLAINE??? PROTECTING FREDERICK?? THIS IS LIKE A DREAM COME TRUE. LAMBCATTTT THANK YOU LAMBCATTT!!!!

Frederick looks so amazed and I won't blame him cause I WOULD TO. IF I WAS ABOUT TO DIE, And someone suddenly came to save me, then proceed to throw the bad guy and himself out of the window by breaking the window and letting the damn sun rise view come in. I. I would look like that.

Blaine looking at the sunrise and realizing the true meaning of life and contemplating what he has done. I love him so much you got this bro.

Also Blaine turns out to be strong! I remember headcanons of him being the weakest out of the three. I mean that could still happen, but the fact that he carried Leland in which who knows how much he weights, and threw him out of the window. Damn.

But they're still falling though, that's not good. I doubt Blaine will die for that matter. It would be wasteful. He barely had his redemption arc. I'm thinking either he uses Leland to break his fall, or Nell's premonition about the tent save him. But the forest is a little far though... Oh! Or maybe, because the pastel kingdom is full of hills, they would fall and roll down towards the tent! That's a possibility!

SHE'S WEARING RED. I REPEAT, SHE'S WEARING RED!!!! YOOOO I WONDER WHAT SHE DID?? I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER...which is in 20 minutes lmao

That's it for now. See ya next chapter!

Mono out! (But still in to hear your thoughts. Please actually tell me your thought on this because I NEED answers and theories. Also psychology analization will actually make me go insanely happy)

[otomefiend]

Victor

Story Event: Luxury liner invitation

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

~~Part 1~~

Viscount Morris: ".....What?"

Victor: "What's going on, Morris? Did something happen?"

Viscount Morris: ".... let's keep this between us."

Viscount Morris: "It looks like -- there is a murderer aboard this ship that the police are after."

(What!?)

The police had been chasing a murderer known as `the mole` for a long time.

During their investigation, the trail went cold but they received a tip he might have boarded this ship.

Victor: "I see. We have to catch this man before he does something bad."

Viscount Morris: "But....I have no clue where to begin."

Kate: "That's..."

Viscount Morris: "Neither culprit's name nor his face are known. The only established fact is that it's a man."

Viscount Morris: "He's said to be a collector who's extremely obsessed with jewels."

Victor: "So, in other words, he's a man who's committed numerous murders to get his hands on them."

Viscount Morris: "Argh... why is he on my ship? What if something happens to the passengers?"

Victor: "-- Viscount, will you let me solve this case?"

Viscount Morris: "I know you are capable as the Queen's aide. But you are also an esteemed guest --"

Victor: "This ship has sailed from England and will return there as well. I want to nip the evil in the bud before we reach our destination."

Viscount Morris: "... thank you, Victor. Just try not to overdo it, okay?"

~~Part 2~~

Victor waved his hand at the Viscount as he was walking away with a worried look on his face.

Victor: "Evil seems to love us a little too much, don't you think Kate?"

Kate: "Heh, it really does."

Victor: "Still, I brought you here because I wanted you to spread your wings."

Victor: "That's why, I'll make sure that man --"

Kate: "Hey, Victor, may I join you on the case?"

Victor: "...."

(Victor is the exeptional aide to the Queen called the Grim Reaper)

(I'm sure he'll be able to solve the case brilliantly without me, but...)

Kate: "There has to be something I could help you with."

Kate: "Besides, I am a fairytale writer. If something happens, I have to be there to witness it."

Victor: "...."

Victor: "I understand where you're coming from."

Victor: "I must find and condemn the evil that has come aboard. May I ask you to assist me in this task as a fairytale writer?"

Kate: "Yes, of course!"

(... I'm so happy when he relies on me)

Kate: "But how will we identify this man whose face and name are unknown?"

Victor: "I have an idea. Will you hear me out?"

~~Part 3~~

Viscount Morris: "Attention, everyone! We will now begin the dance contest to celebrate the maiden voyage of the Orellus."

Viscount Morris: "There are ten pairs who entered the competition. The pair that impresses the audience the most will receive a special reward from me!"

Viscount Morris: "Here's the first pair! Victor and Lady Kate."

Victor: "Hello, thank you."

Kate: "I look forward to the competition."

(Ugh... people's stares are painful!)

*flashback starts*

Victor: "I have an idea. Will you hear me out?"

Victor: "There are two possible reasons why he boarded this luxury liner. First, he wanted to escape from the police."

Victor: "Secondly, he's planning to steal the jewels if the opportunity arises."

(... There are many aristocrats who board the luxury passenger ships)

Victor: "That's right, Kate. The blue diamond shining on your chest is the key."

Kate: "Do you want the necklace to be the bait...?"

Victor: "Just so. Of course, I'll guarantee your safety. How's that sound?"

Kate: "I'm not worried. I believe in you, Victor."

Kate: "But we need to somehow draw attention to this diamond, don't we?"

Victor: "Then leave it to me. I'm good at standing out."

*flashback ends*

(-- That's why he asked the Viscount to hold a dance contest)

(I can't believe so many people are here..!)

Most of the passengers gathered on deck and gave us cheerful looks.

Victor: "Kate, look at me."

~~Part 4~~

(-- That's why he asked the Viscount to hold a dance contest)

(I can't believe so many people are here..!)

Most of the passengers gathered on deck and gave us cheerful looks.

Victor: "Kate, look at me."

Kate: "...?"

When I looked up, I saw Victor smiling happily as usual.

Victor: "If next to you is someone invincible, what should you do?"

(What should I do)

(What Victor always tells me to do)

Kate: "To enjoy this occasion to the fullest?"

Victor: "A great answer. As expected of the fairytale expert of the Crown."

He smiled, and the musicians began to play a cheerful dance tune.

Victor: "Kate, take my hand."

Kate: "Right!"

Young female aristocrat: "Oh, look at those two. Hehe, they appear to be having a great time!"

Young male aristocrat: "Indeed. It makes me want to dance too."

We were thus chosen as the best couple, partly due to the Viscount's discretion.

As planned, when Victor was interviewed,

He naturally spun the story that the blue diamond shining on my chest was a `one-of-a-kind illusory necklacklace`,

Still, he wanted everyone gathered to know.

(I hope the culprit will be lured by this)

~~~

-- and then night fell on board of the ship.

I was standing alone in an empty and silent corridor.

-- To be a decoy, of course.

(The killer would most likely target me when I was alone)

(But will it really go according to plan .........?)

~~Part 5~~

No doubt Victor was prepared for any eventuality.

(I have to trust him. I'm sure it'll be all right)

???: "Lady, what are you doing here all by yourself?"

Kate: "...!"

Startled by the voice coming from behind me, I turned around and saw --

(this guy......)

*flashback starts*

Red-haired crewman: "Lady, I'll take care of your luggage."

Kate: "Oh, thank you. If you'd be so kind."

Red-haired crewman: "That's some nice dress and necklace you wear. Hope you have a good trip."

*flashback ends*

There he was, still dressed as a crew member, with a crooked smile on his face.

Kate: "You are the mole who commits murder to steal jewels."

The mole: "Tsk tsk, how does a little girl like you know about this?"

The mole: "No matter. I'll just kill you, take your stuff and dump your body in the sea."

His composed demeanour made it clear that he had taken countless lives.

Kate: "...why are you doing this?"

The mole: "You mean killing? Because getting jewels is more important to me."

Kate: "...!"

My former self would have been frightened here.

But now I understood.

That evil without reason also existed in this world.

The mole: "What's with those eyes? Damn you, I'm gonna kill you."

The mole: "But first, give me the necklace."

Kate: "...!"

The moment his hand reached for my chest --.

Victor: "Here I come!"

Victor: "Who is the naughty boy causing trouble on this lovely ship?"

Chapter 3 Premium

Chapter 3 Bitter

[caw4brandon]

The Three Conditions (Lore)

It's been a while since my last post and I would like to take this opportunity to show a fun bit of lore that will play an important role in the < Murder The Crow > series.

For a simple rundown. My characters; Sadie mac Lir, Jamie Ann Robyn, and Hector James Dagger don't look human at all. In fact, they always have one offset feature found on their head area.

These features are known as; The Three Conditions also known by its other name; Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil.

- Eyes, Ears, Mouth, and Nose? -

First, let's get down to the basic details.

How did the conditions come to be?

In the universe, the Conditions are an after-effect of being under the atmospheric influence of The Burning Core. Which mutated the said humans of this fictional world; Kingshaven developing highly sensitive conditions to aid them in this once hostile and dangerous world.

These conditions help increase a certain trait but also overamplified the individual to require external aids or accommodations to make their lives tolerable. As a quick rundown, here are the names of said conditions.

Elvenlead - Elf ears with the perk of heightened hearing, and temperature sensitivity. This Condition however comes at the cost of overstimulation to the slightest peak of sound and temperature.

Hollowaye - Darken eyes with the perk of night vision or being able to see through hidden things. This Condition comes with the drawback of light sensitivity.

Grimmjaw - A Venus Flytrap-like mouth with the perk of a strong grip and a uniquely sensitive tongue. This Condition removes the need for teeth and leaves the person vulnerable to all airborne bacteria.

With that said, there are ways to combat the discomfort respectively. Elvenleads found the solution of noise-canceling headphones or earbuds to lessen the stimulation and earmuffs on hand in case of terrible weather conditions. Hollowayes use special sunglasses to help adjust their eyes to light. Grimmjaws learned to use facemasks to cover their mouths thus, protecting themselves.

- The No-Evil Monkeys -

When I originally set out to design my characters, I made the mistake of giving Sadie elf ears but that mistake lead to this peculiar idea of making none of my characters look normal which re-ignited this memory of seeing the monkey statues on display.

My characters and this universe, in general, reflect the phrase; Hear No Evil, See No Evil, Speak No Evil. Which is indeed a part of the inspiration. In an ironic way, these Conditions ultimately reveal the evils found in each sense. Sadie hears all, Hector sees all and Jamie tastes all. (in some way, feels all)

Despite this, for the Conditions. Sadie, Hector, and Jamie are still human in a sense. Peculiar humans if you will but humans still. Said Conditions are categorized as a Dominant Mutation that is bound to appear as one or the other based on the child's gender.

For example, should an Elvenlead mother and Hollowaye father produce a child. The daughters will obtain Elvenlead traits while the sons will have Hollowaye conditions. Under another scenario, if a Havenite (resident of Kingshaven) reproduces with a Normie (human with no Condition) the mutation will follow based on the Havenite parent regardless of gender.

- Do You Know The Muffin Man? -

While I have talked about this very subject in the past, the intention of this post is to lay AN OFFICIAL RULE as to what the Conditions are and provide a colorized version of said subjects because the doodles in the past are all in black and white.

Something I hope to share more after this post is to share more about the respective character's profiles as I am in a bit of a joking mood recently. I've been hinting at the dynamics between these three and I feel confident that I can achieve a lot more for this coming month, despite the fact that it will be a very busy month this coming April.

While drawing this, I was suddenly reminded of the video of about three housemates asking about a certain [Muffin Man] because...I'm just kinda random like that. hahaha~ With that said, that is all for now about the Three Conditions. More to come surely.

Thanks for reading

- Caw4B -

[blackjackkent]

Ooh, Aylin has more to say!

"There you are. I have awaited your arrival with great anticipation. Come closer."

Step closer.

"Feel my voice rattle your bones as I proclaim our victory!" She raises her hands towards the sky, and he does indeed feel it resonate through his whole body as she speaks, crying out into the heavens.

"Moonmaiden! Selune! Hear me! Ketheric Thorm, traitor, apostle of Myrkul, is dead at last! My mate most high, darling Isobel, is safe and well. Safe and well and returned to my embrace!"

She drops her eyes to Hector, the intensity of her mother's moonlight radiating out of her gaze. "Blessings upon the slayer of the wicked one!"

He is starting, very slowly, to grow used to speaking with her, to the strange balance she strikes between god and mortal. To the fact that her mother is Selune herself, and that nevertheless she treats Hector as an equal, someone to be respected and fought alongside. But it still, on some level, punches him in the gut anew every time.

"I couldn't have done it without you," he murmurs humbly, his eyes dropping to the ground in front of her.

"We are a powerful party indeed," she says, with a sort of otherworldly approximation of cheeriness. "Faerun trembles at our touch! My darling Isobel says we will stay allied at your side. I am pleased to hear it."

He nods vigorously. The Guardian said he must find allies, and he could certainly do a lot worse than Aylin and Isobel.

"There's... still a great deal about you I don't know," he says cautiously.

"Pray, ask, and I will tell," she says, and waits expectantly, her eyebrows slightly raised.

Might as well address the elephant in the room. "Are you really Selune's daughter?" he asks.

"Do I not radiate with my mother's brightness? Her glory?" Aylin says with overwhelming gravitas. "There can be no doubt. I am of her silvered flesh, her celestial womb."

Hector blinks rapidly. I'll take that as a yes.

"Would...your mother be willing to aid us in the fight against the Dead Three?" he asks, and his voice cracks only slightly at the enormity of the request.

"Why, she already has. She has brought her sword to your side! Dame Aylin! So mighty are her wonders, her great wisdom. Together, we will set this fair land free of tyranny and murder."

Hector raises an eyebrow very briefly at that. It seems less a gift from Selune to have Aylin, and more random chance - but who is he to dispute the assertion?

"How did you come to be trapped in the Shadowfell?" he asks instead.

Her jaw works and she looks away from him, staring into the middle distance with a baleful gaze. "Hm. Ketheric Thorm. Father of my one and only love. Enslaver of Dame Aylin. Ketheric Thorm never did trust me, even when he worshipped the Moonmaiden. He was threatened by my love for Isobel. By her love for me."

Her expression twists with sudden pain, and she looks towards Isobel, standing nearby, as if to reassure herself of the other woman's presence. "When she died - curse the day, the hour! - we each of us mourned bitterly. But Ketheric's pain could be touched by no aid, no boundary. He turned to wretched Shar, the Lady of Loss, for relief. And she whispered into his ear, poisoning his mind."

Rage begins to overtake any other expression as she looks back on her imprisonment. "He and his loathsome advisor Balthazar lured me into the Shadowfell, claimed they'd found someone in need of my aid. There they trapped me in their infernal cage. I was killed, murdered, made dead, over and over by Justiciars of every make and kind! I was reborn, for it is my nature. And Ketheric fed upon my immortality all the while!"

Her voice has lifted to a shout, drawing the attention of all those standing around the camp. And she raises a fist into the air, crashes the other against the chest of her armor, and her voice rings out over them all.

"But lo! The brute is dead! And we, we live!"

[pink-flame]

FRIEND! For the sacred romantic prompts, can I request “ i don't know what i would have done if you weren't here." and/or "can i hold your hand?" for Juke? Can't wait to see where you take this! 💜

Clearly I’ve been watching The Wilds but also I would be remiss if I didn’t mention my other inspiration which is not Lost but Flight 29 Down another children’s show I was obsessed with despite not being the target audience when it aired. 😂

ENJOY MY FRIEND! 💜

"I told you I'm fine!"

Luke watched Julie's expression flare into anger, her eyebrows drawing together, her eyes flashing in a way that reminded him of the passionate look she had always worn when performing. Back when they had been two normal high school kids. Back when they barely knew each other.

"Just...just leave me alone. Please."

Luke stared after Julie as she whirled away from him and stomped away from the glow of the group's fire.

Maybe Julie was wishing they still barely knew each other.

"Just give her some space," Alex offered from the other side of the fire. "She had a big shock."

"Yeah, she doesn't mean it," Reggie said with a half hearted smile.

"She might," Carrie said with a shrug, earning her a glare from the rest of the group. "What? She sounded pretty convincing."

"He did save her life," Kayla pointed out. "Maybe she's just processing the fact that she was almost like...a ghost."

“We’ve all almost died 50 times in the last few weeks,” Carrie insisted, pushing her dirty and slightly wild hair over her shoulder. “Or did you all miss that?”

“Imagine if we were all ghosts,” Reggie said a little too eagerly for the scenario he was describing. “We could just float all the way home.”

“That’s not…ok,” Alex sighed.

The group descended into overlapping chatter but Luke could barely take in anything they were saying.

He knew that they meant well, or at least most of them did, but he couldn't stand around listening to them breaking down the situation when he was all too aware of what had happened.

Their families had all signed them up for some weird retreat meant to solve all of their issues. Only their plane had crashed on the way leaving with them with…significantly more issues. That was an understatement bordering on the ridiculous given that their plane had crashed, some kind of wild cat had tried to eat them, and just that day Julie had almost fallen to her death trying to retrieve the first aid kit from where it had somehow ended up precariously close to the edge of a cliff.

Luke could still feel the way the dirt had felt under his sneakers as he slid across the distance between them, almost tumbling over himself in his eagerness to reach her. He could see her pinwheeling arms, her wide eyes, the moment her last attempt at maintaining her balance failed and she tipped backwards toward oblivion. He could still hear his ragged breaths and his echoing heartbeat as he reached out to grab her arm, their sweaty skin almost refusing to offer the needed friction.

Then his hand was finding purchase and he was yanking her back, every single one of those muscles he used to take such pride in straining and protesting until finally she was safe, pressed against his chest for a blissful moment.

Of course she had only rested there for a moment before pulling away, brushing off everyone’s cries of shock and worry, refusing Luke’s attempts to help her back to camp, stomping ahead of all of them despite her twisted ankle.

Luke hadn’t meant to spend the three hours since that incident asking her if she was ok roughly every three minutes it was just…he remembered exactly how it felt and looked and sounded to almost lose her.

Enough.

Luke pushed himself to his feet and stepped away from the light of the fire and the voices of his friends, following the path that Julie had taken down the beach.

It didn’t take long to find her much to his relief, she hadn’t wandered far. Just beyond the view of their camp she was perched on a small, rocky outcropping extended toward the water, low enough that his heart didn’t skip a beat for fear she would fall again. Of course, when he caught sight of her, bathed in moonlight and gazing out at the sea, his heart skipped a beat for entirely different reasons.

He crossed the distance between them and pulled himself up on to the rock carefully, easing himself down next to her, half afraid that she would tell him to leave.

She didn’t.

“I grew up around the beach,” She offered instead, her voice quiet but clear. “I’ve spent so much time looking at the ocean but it never really hit me just how big it is. Until now.”

Luke forced his eyes to leave her face just long enough for him to gaze out at the seemingly endless water.

“Inconvenient, isn’t it?” He joked earning himself an approximation of a chuckle from the girl beside him though it faded away almost instantly.

There was another long moment of quiet before Julie spoke again.

“Listen…Luke…I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful. I am. Really. It’s just…I’m not used to…ugh,” She trailed off with a frustrated groan.

“My mom died last year,” She started again, a forced sort of calm taking over her tone.

Luke nodded, careful, nervous, determined not to scare her into clamming up again.

This wasn’t news to him. Even if he and Julie hadn’t exactly been close back in the real world it was hard to have missed the way the best singer in the school was suddenly hit with a massive dose of stage fright. Especially given the fact that he had been nursing a massive crush on her for years.

“I’m sorry,” He finally told her gently, prompting her to nod this time, the motion jerky and betraying nerves of her own.

She sucked in a short breath before continuing, her body stiff and compact as if taking up as little space as possible could ease the conversation somehow.

“And it was…hard isn’t even the right word. It was like it was the end of everything,” She explained, shaking her head as Luke fought the urge to reach out and touch her shoulder, her arm, her hand…any part of her at all.

“Friends, school, music,” She said the last word with a little extra emphasis that Luke understood instinctively. “I couldn’t see how any of it mattered anymore. How it could ever matter again. And the only thing that kept me going was deciding I was going to take care of my dad and my little brother.”

“Family is important,” Luke said, because he figured he was supposed to, because he did believe it even if the images of his last conversation with his own family were flashing through his head in quick, painful succession.

Julie nodded jerkily again, barely seeming to register his words. Luke figured she was trying to force herself to keep talking before she lost her nerve to talk at all.

He got that.

He really got that.

“At first my dad was more than happy to have me help take care of things. Find his keys. Make sure Carlos got to baseball practice. Organize the bills and make a family calendar and pack up Mom’s stuff. I don’t know when things changed. Maybe my aunt pulled him aside and I’m pretty sure my friend Flynn texted him worried about me…maybe he just felt guilty. All I know is suddenly my dad wanted me to stop looking after things, to be…normal.”

She took a shuddering breath and reached up to wipe harshly at her eyes. This time Luke gave into the urge to reach out, placing his hand lightly on her knee.

She didn’t push him away.

“When I couldn’t do that he decided this retreat would be a good idea, let me reset or something. I didn’t want to go, we had our worst fight ever about it and now…now we’re stuck here, on this dumb island, where everything wants to kill us and I still don’t know how to rely on anyone else,” Julie said in a rush, her voice tight with obvious emotion, both anger and despair.

Luke squeezed her knee and scooted a little closer until their sides just barely met, her shaky breaths traveling through his skin and sending his heart racing.

“I know keeping track of my dad’s phone or grabbing the first aid kit or whatever dumb task I’ve given myself can’t fix anything. But being in control is the only thing that has made me feel remotely safe since my mom…since my mom. I don’t know how to be part of a team.”

“What about a band?” Luke asked without fully thinking through the thought.

Julie’s head turned slowly to face him, what he could make out of her expression in the moonlight more open than he had seen it since they crashed there.

“I mean…a band is kind of like a team right? Just better,” He explained. “Cause you have to know what you’re doing but you still need everybody else too.”

Julie smiled slightly at that.

“So basically…a team,” She teased.

“But with guitar solos,” Luke said proudly, earning himself another smile. “So it’s obviously superior.”

“Obviously,” She agreed through that same knowing smile. “Don’t you find it hard to leave your art partially up to other people? How does Sunset Curve make things work?”

Luke stared at her in a mix of amazement and pride.

“You know about Sunset Curve?”

Julie nudged her shoulder against his.

“Of course.”

Luke tucked that information away to process later.

“Sweet,” He said, feeling his first real grin in so long stretch over his face. “But anyway, it’s not that hard. The guys and I just trust each other. We’re family.”

Julie’s face sobered again.

“There’s that loaded word again,” She sighed. “I love mine so much and I know they love me but…”

“But loving someone doesn’t mean you know how to deal with each other?”

Julie let out a humorless chuckle.

“Exactly.”

She tilted her head slightly, considering, and he struggled not to duck his head under her scrutiny.

“You speaking from experience?” She asked.

Luke swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat and considered.

As a rule he didn’t like to talk about it.

Or more accurately as a rule he didn’t talk about it.

But this was Julie, and she had just trusted him and his hand was still resting on her knee and he liked her so much, had always liked her so much and they might die on this stupid island and…

“My parents signed me up for this thing too,” He blurted. “I mean signed up doesn’t really cover it. My mom literally had some big dude show up to make sure I got in the car. I didn’t know this retreat was a thing until I was already on my way. Apparently sneaking out all the time for gigs was the last straw as far as she was concerned. Felt the need to save me from heading down the path of rock and roll and everything she assumes comes with it.”

“Wow,” Julie said, an eyebrow shooting up in surprise. “That’s intense.”

Luke laughed, surprising himself when he realized it was genuine.

“Yeah, that’s kind of my mom in one word. Intense.”

“To be fair you’re kind of intense too,” Julie observed, a smile undercutting any possible offense. “In a good way.”

Luke tried not to let on how much havoc that “in a good way” was unleashing in his mind.

“You’re not wrong,” He agreed. “Honestly the longer I’m here the more I’m realizing how much we’re actually alike. Stubborn…”

“Passionate,” Julie supplied.

“Obsessive,” Luke continued.

“Creative,” Julie said, her voice showing no trace of her former distress.

“You don’t even know my mom,” Luke pointed out, biting his lip as her compliments washed over him.

“I just have a feeling,” Julie shrugged with a smile. “I’ve always been a little psychic.”

“Reggie will have a lot to say about that,” Luke laughed. “He’ll have you trying to contact ghosts.”

They both laughed before falling silent for a long moment, just resting lightly against each other and watching the waves.

“Do you think we’re going to make it home?” Julie finally asked, her voice soft but steady.

“I think we have as good a chance as anybody,” Luke answered honestly before glancing over at the girl next to him. “Better. Because we have each other.”

Julie turned and their eyes locked, the moonlight reflecting in her gaze.

“Friends who trust each other,” She said. “Family.”

Luke nodded, his hand slipping off of her knee to find her hand.

“Julie the psychic and her deserted island full of phantoms.”

She grinned and Luke felt himself mirroring her expression.

And suddenly, just for a second, he hoped rescue didn’t come too soon.

[waiting-on-a-dream]

𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐜𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐰𝐬𝐭 (𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲)

Author's notes:

The SD picrew has limited choices, so the pictures aren't very accurate to what I have in mind. :P

In true Xenon fashion, he has some insight into the prisoners' crimes and gives them nicknames based on their motive and/or feelings towards said crime. There's a clue of you guys~

Ichiro ♡

Other names:

Cuttlefish (Floyd)

Monsieur Unbothered (Rook)

Calcite (Slyvan)

Lover (Xenon)

Homeland: Rose Kingdom

Dorm: Ignihyde

Family:

Unnamed mother

Unnamed step-father

Appearance

Eye colour: Denim blue

Hair colour: Light brown

Race: Human

Uniform: He chooses not to wear makeup and his dorm vest. He wore his blazer at first, but lost it after a while and started wearing a cardigan instead. He also tried to wear his tie properly at first, but found it too tight and uncomfortable, so he wears it loose all the time now. He finds his red sneakers perfectly fine for a school setting and wears them everyday (even if some people might disapprove).

School information

School year: First

Class: 1C (Student no. 4)

Best subject: Art

Club: Board Game Club

Fun Facts

Dominant hand: Left

Likes: Keiko (his stuffed koala bear), watching clouds, lo-fi music

Dislikes: Being ignored, his stepfather, not being able to draw the picture in his head clearly

Favorite Food: Mochi

Least Favorite Food: Mint candy

Hobby: Drawing

Talents: Spacing out

Unique Magic: Pop up - He can conjure the non-living things he draws (up to scale) into existence for a short period of time. This works for food and drink as well, delicious taste and all.

Trivia

He keeps Keiko (stuffed koala) in his school bag, so he carries his bag with him wherever he goes.

He would have joined an art club if there was one, but there isn't one, and he isn't interested in founding a club.

He can't play board games that require strategy or critical thinking because they're so much work. As such, Idia is often his board game partner during club meetings.

Akane ♡

Other names:

Pufferfish (Floyd)

Mademoiselle Peppermint (Rook)

Garnet (Slyvan)

Justice (Xenon)

Homeland: Land of Pyroxene

Dorm: Savanaclaw

Family:

Unnamed father

Unnamed mother (diseased)

Appearance

Eye colour: Sienna brown

Hair colour: Robin egg blue

Race: Human

Uniform: She wears her signature red hairband and forgoes makeup. Her uniform is surprisingly put together despite her rough personality, ironed neatly with everything in its proper place. She chooses to wear a long skirt and knee-length black socks, keeping most of her skin covered because she claims she feels cold easily.

School information

School year: Second

Class: 2C (Student no. 16)

Best subject: Ancient Curses

Club: Horse-Riding Club

Fun Facts

Dominant hand: Right

Likes: Woolly sweaters, patterned band aids, helping others

Dislikes: Feeling cold, getting angry, people who look away

Favorite Food: Red bean bun

Least Favorite Food: Baguette

Hobby: Watching action movies

Talents: Tiptoeing (So quiet even she can't hear herself)

Unique Magic: Avert your eyes - She can direct the attention of her target to a (physical) thing. She can take on multiple targets at once. A small amount of blot accumulates every time she activates her UM and for every second she uses it.

Trivia

Her horse is a reddish-brown mare she named "Poppy".

She got angry the first time she met Floyd and reminded him of a pufferfish blowing itself out to look more menacing, hence the nickname. How ironic, since pufferfish are her favourite animals. Not that she would ever tell Floyd.

She gets along with Silver well because he's one of the few people she knows that don't piss her off. Well, its not like anyone could be on bad terms with someone as sincere and considerate as him.

[cqsuanla]

I need more mediocre gfs please!! Maybe like Reader getting hurt in an attack like I’m curious how she would act

sure but i didnt rly do that bc nothing serious ever happens in the mediocre gfs verse<3 welcome to the circus babies<3

edit: thanks to @seera-li for the clint bit

Your relationship isn't public in the sense that neither of you thinks it's particularly wise to advertise to Nat's long, long list of enemies that she fostered any sort of positive emotion towards any specific member of the general public. It isn't particularly wise to advertise that Nat experiences any emotions, really, since unpredictability is the name of the game. But it's okay if people know she, perhaps, might like her coworkers because her coworkers could kill someone accidentally by, like, breathing too hard or something. You, on the other hand, are entirely normal. Maybe not well-adjusted, mentally at least, but you're not an alien with super-strength, nor are you a mutated superhero borne from unethical scientific experimentation. Just normal human you.

Her friends and family know, obviously, since Nat is as unrepentant and shameless as they come. She likes to flex the fact that she's not emotionally stunted enough to not be able to bag a girl, basically. You're glad, at least, that you don't have to stop yourself from throwing yourself at Nat during house parties.

Nat also likes to lounge on an armchair with you perched on her lap, looking like the cat that got the cream; she said, one time, that it makes her feel like she has a huge cock. You had rolled your eyes at that, arms looped around her neck, and assured her that her cock was, indeed, quite large. She had smirked and kissed your neck and said in that insufferable tone: "I know." And Clint, who had been sitting on a nearby couch, had made a noise of revulsion and reached up to pop the battery out of his hearing aid so he didn't have to put up with Nat and you being so annoying. The two of you were a joy, to say the least, at Avengers dinner parties.

So, it comes as a surprise to both you and Nat--and your superhero friends when they hear about it afterwards--when you're shoved into a crummy alley by gunpoint because no one is supposed to know about your relationship to her outside of your inner circles. It's also a surprise because, you know, there's a gun pointed at you by a really menacing looking dude.

You're supposed to be safe. Everyone made sure to keep your relationship under wraps. How did they find you?

He's shouting at you, but you're too panicked, fumbling with your bag and backing into the wall, to really process what he's saying. Nat, who had been on a call with you, is also yelling at you in alarm through the AirPods Pro she had gotten you as a gift. You don't know what the fuck is happening. Maybe you shouldn't walk around the city with the noise-cancelling function on.

Suddenly, she goes quiet, and you glance at your phone, seeing the call has been dropped, and so too, then, does your stomach. A heavy feeling of dread sinks into you, and you find yourself shaking.

The barrel of the gun waves closer to your face, and you let out an undignified squeak, and then the man is wrenching your phone away with a curse when he realizes you had been on a call. Now, you are paying lots of attention to the man with the gun.

He is a mugger. You are being mugged.

"Oh, thank god," you let out in a rush, basically hurling your AirPods case at him. "Here. I-I'll get my wallet, too. It's- It's in my bag."

He is taken aback by your change in attitude, clutching the case like his life depends on it. "What- Hey, lady. What the fuck?"

You nod rapidly. "Yeah. Yeah, don't worry about me. Well, you can. I mean, don't shoot me. I have to get my wallet, okay?"

"...Okay?" The gun lowers. Dark eyes blink at you through his ski mask in utter bewilderment. "I mean-" He draws the gun back up with a scowl. "Just give me the bag."

You frown now, too. You had bought Nat a sandwich. It's in there. "But..."

"Give me the fucking bag!"

"Right! Yeah! Jesus, okay," you yell out, shoving the bag towards him and flinching away when the gun once again comes too close to comfort. "I just want you to know that my girlfriend's going to be so mad at you."

He ignores you. Why would he reply, after all? He's a mugger. You're his victim blathering on about your girlfriend. Your totally regular girlfriend.

Your girlfriend, whom you have yet to spot swinging off the roof and onto the fire escape above. Until, that is, her boots hit it with a loud clang, and both of you jerk up to look.

Then, it's over for him because Nat comes down swinging with a furious look on her face, utterly silent aside from her grunts when she lands on him and throws him upside down into the dumpster. A gunshot rings out, hitting the wall far enough away from you that you don't immediately piss yourself, but it's still a gunshot, so you still jump away with a screech.

You fall into the wall, dropping your bag, and scramble on your ass towards the main street. By the time you've gotten your bearings, Nat's straddled the mugger, gun kicked far into the alley and is midway through her third punch into the guy's face.

"Nat," you gasp out, pulse racing, throbbing, really, in your temple, "Nat!"

Your cries fall on deaf ears. She's still giving this guy hell, questioning him in a tone so cold you're glad you never have to face her for real. She seems to be under the impression that he's a neo-Nazi terrorist or something.

Quickly, you crawl over, scuffing your knees on the sidewalk, and place a hand on her back. She stills, still glowering down at the crumpled mugger beneath her. But then you put your other hand on her back, and you slide them onto her shoulders, and you cling on with a shuddering sigh.

She feels safe. She feels warm and solid and real. It hadn't felt real these past few minutes, you realize belatedly, and you cling on tighter. Suddenly, there are tears in your eyes. You feel a bit stupid for them since this is something that happens every day in the city, and Nat's faced worse, and here you are, about to sob your eyes out.

In relief, though. Relief. Sweet relief in the arms of your equally shaken up girlfriend.

She plants a hand on the guy's head, forcing his nose into the cement, and slips her free arm around your hiccupping shoulders.

"It's okay," she murmurs into your hair, a strangled note to her voice. "I'm here. It's okay."

"He-He was just mugging me," you manage, stilted, and so very much in love with Nat. Acutely aware of your love for her when you feel her relax and then stiffen up and then relax again once she's registered what you said. You keep blubbering on: "You crossed four blocks in as many minutes because I was getting mugged."

"Well." She sniffs, pressing him harder into the ground and disregarding his pained moan. "Yes."

"I love you," you say around a ragged breath. Your tears are subsiding.

Nat stiffly pats your back and glances down at him. "Yes."

"You should probably call off whatever national security agency you contacted," you say after a moment.

Both of you pay the mugger's squawk no mind. Nat just nods and says, again, "Yes." She releases you to pull her phone out of her pocket, face entirely unreadable, as she does as told. "You should also apologize to Carol."

"Me?" You make a face. Shuffle closer on your knees. "Why?"

"She, uh," Nat starts, then stops with a grimace. Rolls her eyes. "There's a war happening. Like, a few galaxies away."

"Galaxies," you repeat.

"Yeah. She's probably halfway here already."

"Galaxies."

"Yeah, baby," she says into her phone as she taps away. "She says that she's glad that you're all right, but you owe her a round of drinks."

You yank her arms closer to you--or, rather, she lets you pull her phone to your face. "She says you owe her drinks."

"We owe her drinks; that's what I said," Nat says. Finally, you see the wobble of her lips. Up and down, and up again. "You... You're okay?"

You smile softly, wiping the dampness from your cheeks. "Yeah. What about you, honey?"

Nat just nods. Then, she looks down at the guy under her and gets up with an out of place grace. He instantly tries to get up and run, but Nat just steps on his back, and he goes down again.

You pry your AirPods case out of his grip and get to your feet to pick up your bag. You put your stuff back in and shuffle back to Nat, who's palming her forehead and staring at the sky.

You curl your fingers around her tense forearm, rubbing a thumb into her skin until she turns to look at you.

"I love you," you repeat.

Nat lets her lips slant upward, and she cups your cheek. "Me too. About you."

You lean into her, nosing at her shoulder with a sigh. "How did you even get here?"

Nat lets out a breathy laugh. "Breaking and entering, and parkour on top of rooftops."

"Thank you," you say after a beat.

She shakes her head, hand pressing harder into your face. "Don't thank me."

"This is, like, cute and romantic, but I think you broke my ribs and my nose," says the mugger who has since dragged himself up to sprawl against the dumpster.

"Shut up," Nat snaps. "You should be glad I didn't break more."

He huffs and crosses his arms.

You wrap your arms around Nat's waist, smiling widely into her jacket. Nat can tell, of course, because she always knows. She tangles her hands in your hair, cradling you close to her chest, as fond of you as you are of her.

"Oh," you remember suddenly, "I got you a sandwich."

The cops find the three of you like this: Nat munching on a club sandwich with you draped over her side and the mugger looking awfully put out opposite you guys.

That night, and in the days following, Nat refuses to let you leave her sight. Very awkward to wash your hands in front of the bathroom line that had all seen a stoic Nat barge her way into your stall. You wouldn't change a single thing about it.

[jaeminscoffee]

Colours | X. Dj

Pairing» Xiaojun x f!Reader

Genre» Angst, Fluff, Smut (suggestive)

Warning(s)» Friends to lovers trope, Xiaojun kinda loses his temper but that subdues, heavy makeout session, groping, public sex, fingering, implied sex towards the ending (open imagination since the request was kinda vague), steamy, our boi dejun get's flustered by Y/n's bubbly personality. I think that's about it. Lmao not proof read, so it will contain a hell lot of mistakes.

Wc; type» 2.06k ; oneshot

Red.

All Xiaojun could see is Red. 

To have the person who dragged him all the way to some stupid reunion party against his will to abandon him in the first five minutes with the pathetic excuse of "I'll go grab us some drinks" only to never return back to his aid had Xiaojun boil with anger. 

To have you smiling and laughing, clinging and grasping at a man he's never seen before is Infuriating. 

To see you so smitten by a guy other than Xiaojun had him seeing crimson with comically visible smoke coming out of his ears, arms shaking, jaw set rigid with palms growing moist from all the clenching and unclenching. 

Xiaojun felt yellow. 

He felt insecure at how the man before you just seemed to be much to your taste. 

He felt unsure of whether or not he should risk walking up to you and talk the talk he'd wanted to let out since the day you stood up for the lad. And inevitably, and much to his pleasure, stood by him in the process till date. 

He felt that maybe, just maybe, he's not worthy of having a girl as astounding as you. And all that sliver of hope he'd held onto only seemed to be slipping away from his grasp. 

Xiaojun felt blue. 

The dreading feeling that he'd lose all that the two of you built until where your relationship stands today with a single mistake bubbles inside of him. 

Watching you from afar with a man potentially your dream guy just made him feel blue. Numb, and as though a part of him was slowly chipping away. 

The immense feeling of sheer sadness had him want to turn on his heels and back out to what he thinks "get out of your way" and to prevent further breakage of his heart. 

Until he saw red again. 

Watching you throw yourself at this stranger, arms tightly wrapped around the bastard's waist, hips joint, with his hands running through the soft curls of your tresses, "who does he think he is?" 

How entitled must this man think he is to expand the white between the two of you? You and Xiaojun were meant to be and he'd only flick your head and call you stupid if you ever said otherwise. 

Eyebrows furrowing as Xiaojun followed each of your actions. How your chin tucks and you hide your face in this 'dream bastard's' chest, arms idly resting on his torso, your hair covering your face from all the moving around. He kept watching you;

Until your gaze met. 

Time seemed to stand still, in a much cliché fashion. Seeing the expressionless look on his face seemed to have clicked the power on button somewhere in your head.

You'd unintentionally abandoned the man you promised you wouldn't. 

Almost as though Xiaojun could see the wheels turning inside your head, he sneers at you, immediately turning around to walk into a corner the moment he saw you approaching him through the crowd filled with hookers, stoners, and people too bored for their own good. 

"Jun, wait up!" 

He could hear your shrill voice call out to him the moment he rounded a turn. He didn't turn, however, mind clouded red, crimson and ebony with jealousy, envy and all mixed emotions, he felt dizzy. 

You catching up to him only seemed to worsen his dizziness, "Jun! I-i'm so sorry i forgot about you, it's just my b-" 

"Forgot about me, huh?" Xiaojun's voice comes gruff, hoarse from the inadequate usage. He doesn't bother turning around to look at you, wouldn't have done much anyways, the lighting of the area so dim, he can barely make out your silhouette. 

Besides, his vision is clouded with black, wouldn't have done much anyways. 

"No no, not forget forget about you! I just got caught up with my b-" 

"boyfriend? Y/n, are you oblivious to not know how  I feel? Am I vague? Oh I'm sorry, am I not obvious enough?" Through the darkness, you could see Xiaojun's shoulder shake, his tone strained, his head hung low, avoiding your gaze the closer you got. "Jun, what are you talking about?" 

You seemed to be feeling grey, confused. 

"Your boyfriend, Y/n." 

"Jun, boyfriend-!" "I like you damn it!" you flinch as he abruptly turns around, the red building inside him so rapidly that it inevitably ends up exploding.

"You know I like you, no, I love you. Why else would you have been waltzing around acting like a pliant, docile girlfriend?" The grey intensifies within you the faster Xiaojun talks quick strides towards you. 

Your silence and the unconscious stepping back seemed to plant a seed of yellow within him again. "You led me on. You seemingly ignored my feelings. Because you obviously know I like you, don't you?" The red appears again, mixing with the intense yellow, blending into a terrific orange as Xiaojun closes the space between the two of you with newfound confidence. 

"You like me.." you whisper, your palms pressing onto the greasy wall behind you where Xiaojun had you cornered, your eyes shaking in ecstasy. He likes you, no. He loves you.

"You need to a whole 'nother level of airhead if you think i view you merely as a friend-" Somewhere in your head, you know he's talking to you, but his voice seems to numb out in the beautiful crimson that's taking over your heart, with a slight mix of elegant yellow and purple so faint it could come off as violet. "You like me!" you look up at him. 

"-Yes, Y/n, keep up god damn! But do you care? Of course not! You go get yourself a boyfriend while i wallow in self pity-" 

"Oh god you like me!" you bounce with all the vibrant colors swirling inside you, your arms lifting up to wrap around the lads neck, who jumps at the unexpected action, looking down at you with a mixture of confusion and slight fury.

"Does it matter, Y/n? Your boyfriend's probably looking for you now-" 

"Jun, what are you talking about? I don't have a boyfriend!" you pull him down to be leveled with you, looking him intensely in the eye as you watch the familiar grey dominate his irises. 

"Th-Then, that man you were all over..? You cannot possibly tell me he's not your boyfriend" he seems to be fighting to hold onto the red fury as it slowly turns into a rosy flush. "The man I was all over..?" you question seemingly to yourself, as the wheels turn  in your head once again until the entire process comes to an abrupt halt at the realization hitting you. 

"Jun, that's my brother! My cousin!" 

The look on the lad's face is so incredulous that you break out into a cheshire grin, "you were jealous of my brother?" you giggle, as you playfully punch at his chest which deflates as he radiates bright crimson, skin heated. 

"o-okay brother. brother, alright. Though, I still don't stand a chance, do i?" Xiaojun questions, stammering with embarrassment while being overcome with a sudden sense of blue. Sure you didn't have a boyfriend, doesn't change the fact that you're way out of his league. 

You stare into his eyes, hoping that would somehow convey the answer to his question, but the more you just look at him, the more the light in his eyes seems to dim out. 

Offering him a soft smile, which he doesn't seem to notice, you catch him off guard when you lift his head up, tilting it while pressing your lips onto his ever so gently. Providing a soft peck as you sigh in ecstasy. 

You let your lips linger a little longer, silently pouring out your heart into the soft action of affection before hesitantly pulling away. 

"Does that answer your question?" your gentle voice pulls Xiaojun out of his haze. 

You kissed him. You like him. He stands a chance with you. 

That seems to snap the last bit of self restraint in him as he captures your lips once again with much fervor. Molding his lips with yours, all signs of softness thrown out of the window as his hands circle your hips, pulling you flush against him. 

The feeling of your heat encircling him makes him groan into the kiss, making a wave of shock run through your spine. The hairs on your hand standing proud as you play with the hair at the back of his neck, pulling at it. 

Biting down on your lips, Xiaojun positively earns a moan from you. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into yours, easily dominating your tongue as you slowly, subconsciously start grinding against him, making him squeeze tight at your hips. 

"I.. Love you.. Jun" you say in between the kiss as his hands travel further south, groping at your ass, pulling you in, supporting your grinds on his crotch.

"Fuck.." he sighs at the words, slithering wet kisses from your lips to the edge of your lips, moving onto the jaw before choosing to nip at the skin, "say it again, doll" he rasps onto your neck, while his hands sneakily makes its way under the flimsy material of your skirt, thumbing at your growing wetness while staring intently at you, silently asking for the green flag to proceed.

"I.. I love you. I love you, Xiaojun!" you nod at him while pouring all your adoration onto the lad, you'd waited too long for the two of you to take it slow from now on forth. 

Xiaojun moves your panties to the side, immediately finding the bundle of nerves, pressing nimbly onto your clit, basking in your little whimpers and shakes. 

He wastes no time to draw figure eights onto the sensitive bud, cooing at you while marking his territory on your neck, your jaw, the naked skin of your shoulders and collarbone, exposed by the off shoulder top you'd chosen for the evening. 

"I love you, too, princess. You've no idea how long I've waited for this moment." he moans onto your neck while sliding in a slender digit into your wet cavern. 

You grow frantic, soaking in all the emotions Xiaojun is pouring onto you with his actions and words, being pulled close to your high, embarrassing faster than you'd appreciate.

"You've no idea how many times I'm imagined taking you until all you can remember is my name, not even yours" he starts moving his digits after fitting in another one of his long fingers, the slick pouring out of your cunt pooling onto his palms as your moans come out as squeals. Your brain is hazing with a pleasant pink, blue and red. All of the emotions overwhelming you.

"You look gorgeous, doll face" he kisses softly at the side of your lips when you start clenching around his fingers, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap.

"J-Jun.." you sigh, face flush with content, legs shaking, your form only being held up by his strong grip, his intense gaze making you feel so small, so vulnerable, all the tell-tale signs of your orgasm nearing you present as he accelerates his fingers, clearly catching onto the fact that you'd come undone any second. 

"You gonna come for me, pretty? Am I making you feel good?" he grunts while nibbling at the lobe of your ears, digits moving so fast inside your calls that you can hear the squelching obscene voices of your walls over the loud music playing in the background, his palm constantly rubbing against your clit. 

"Feel's so g-good, Jun.." You grip onto his forearm to keep you grounded as your orgasm washes over you. Your jaw slacks as you convulse around his fingers. Xiaojun cooing praises into your ears as he helps you ride out your orgasm, pulling you into a kiss as you push his fingers away when he slowly drives you into overstimulation. 

"Fuck, you're perfect." he stares at you with adoration while you catch your breath. Forcing yourself to step out of your daze. You smile shyly until it turns into a sly smirk as you move your hands to grab at his painfully evident dent, slowly rasping out as you move closer to him,

"Your place or mine?" 

The red never felt so satisfying to Xiaojun until now. 

[summercourtship]

i absolutely love your amanda writings! the lack of amanda fics anywhere makes me so sad. if possible could i request something mega angsty with her 🧍🏻‍♀️ i love angst but i know not a lot of people do so totally okay if you don't want to take this one! (if you take on this request it does not have to be dbd related)

Thank you!!! She def deserves more fic- I love her so much and think she’s such an interesting character to explore.

Quick question for all y’all: do you think it’s more interesting when Amanda’s s/o is also a Jigsaw apprentice or when they don’t know about Amanda’s involvement in the murders? I can’t decide which intrigues me more!

also taking this moment to plug my amanda playlist again

last night.

Amanda Young x Reader | warnings: character death | word count: 1077

“Hey, can we talk?”

Amanda slammed the drawer she’d been rummaging in, tossing the first-aid supplies on the counter. She hadn’t heard you, opening another drawer and starting to shift through its contents.

You’d only realized that she was in your apartment when you’d heard your front door slam shut. Though at first you had thought it was someone coming to kill or kidnap you, but when you’d crept into the living space, the kitchen light was on and Amanda was standing in front of your junk drawers, clearly out of it.

“Amanda!” You say, louder than you’d have liked for this time of night. But it got her to finally look up at you, her eyes wide and frantic. It took her a moment to recognize you, bringing her mind back to the present moment and away from whatever she had been preoccupied with.

You take a moment to really look at her, how different she was from the last time you saw her. Something had clearly happened, and you feared the worst. Amanda was no stranger to relapse, but every time you thought about her falling back into her dangerous habits your heart broke. Seeing her frantically searching for something in your kitchen when you’d been presumed asleep didn’t help your suspicion.

You didn’t know which was worse: her trying to find valuables to pawn for drugs or something to numb the pain and distract her from her cravings. Neither of which were going to be in your kitchen drawers, most of them filled with random wires, take-out menus, and batteries.

“I’m worried about you. I rarely see you anymore, and you seem... really unlike yourself.” You move towards her, and you notice just how tired she looks. Her hair is messily tied back into a ponytail, strands hanging out and sticking to her face with oil and sweat. The bags under her eyes are prominent, her eyes hazy and somewhere else. In short, she looks like she’s been having the roughest day possible.

“I’m fine.” Even her voice is tired, flat and grating on her vocal chords.

“You clearly aren’t.” You place a hand on her arm, relieved when she doesn’t throw it off. “You can talk to me, you know. I’m always here for you.”

For a moment, she relaxes at your touch, before she catches sight of the supplies she’d thrown on the counter. It seems to set her off again, and she yanks her arm back before throwing open the next drawer.

“Do you have any anesthesia?” She doesn’t even look up at you as she asks, as if it was the most common question in the world to be asked at 1:00 AM in your dinky kitchen.

“What?” That was not what you were expecting.

“I said, do you have any anesthesia?” She looks up at you now, her jaw clenched. But she’s on the verge of tears, something that she’s obviously trying to hide. But things like that don’t escape your notice, not when it comes to Amanda.

“No, of course not. Amanda, what the hell is going on?”

“If you’re not going to help me, then shut the fuck up and go away.”

All you can think is that you need to diffuse the situation, and try to keep her with you and not out in the world doing who-knows-what.

“Okay, but you’re in my apartment. I don’t just have medical supplies hidden away in my kitchen.”

“God! Are you always this annoying?”

Ouch.

“I just wanted to help.” You say, stung by her harsh words.

“Well, you’re doing a shit job of it.” The slam of the drawer makes you jump, unnaturally loud in the quiet night. But you barely even hear it, her words echoing in your mind. She snatches the few supplies she had been able to find- mainly gauze- and sweeps out of the room and apartment without even a second glance back at you, leaving you confused and hurt. But more than that, you were scared for her and worried about whatever she had gotten herself into.

___

You stared at the tiny cubby that had been Amanda’s bed. The place smelled awful, and it broke your heart to think of her spending her time here when she could have been with you.

The investigators had taken everything that was of any legal worth, leaving behind what they deemed to be useless. But you saw its real worth- drawings and notes, her blankets and clothes. It was all her, the only sign that she had been a living human being.

You’ve replayed your last conversation countless times since it happened, wondering if there was something-anything- you could’ve said to get her to stay. But you knew that her devotion to you was second to her devotion to John- to Jigsaw.

It hurts even more when you think about what he did to her, and how she had somehow convinced herself that it was good and right. You’d never have the opportunity to tell her that she didn’t need a near death experience to learn to appreciate life, what she had needed was rehab and someone who cared about her. Someone who actually cared about her, as she was. Who wanted to help her without giving her more trauma on top of what she had already been through.

Shuffling around the gutted space, ignoring the suspicious stains on the floor and the amount of tools left behind, the razor wires and gears and shards of glass, you think once more on the conversation in your kitchen. If you had known that that would be the last time you spoke to her, that that was her last day on Earth, would you have tried harder to get her to stay? You haven’t forgotten her venomous words or the look in her eyes when she left your apartment, but your newfound understanding of her life brought clarity to the day.

You’d be questioned, more so than you already had been. The Jigsaw murders had shaken your city, and the idea that a survivor of Jigsaw became his closest accomplice would only further rattle it. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that, or the fact that you might somehow be implicated due to your association with Amanda.

All you could bring yourself to do was grab one of her blankets and some of the papers off her wall and head home, your mind silent.

[fanartfunart]

Time and Time Again

A little fic about if Ocarina of Time was a big time loop instead of splitting the timeline. (& if Link met himself)

-

The sky was a hazy orange in Hyrule. The sun was a glowing pale orb behind the clouds of smoke. It choked his lungs... It was nothing like Termina. Unfortunately, it was exactly like his memories. Link stared up at the sky, fiddling with the edge of his backpack.

He glanced in the direction of the Korkiri forest. He hadn’t been back for 7 years... Guilt pricked at his chest and his throat. But he couldn’t go back now. He didn’t want to know what would happen if he did anything to change things from what he remembered. It hadn’t worked out well when he was still a child, why would it now? He sighed. Shaking his head, he walked towards Kakariko village.

He didn’t know why he was here, really. To confirm he didn’t leave Hyrule on it’s own? That it wasn’t some elaborate dream?

He reached into his bag. His old childhood tunic was tucked deep down into his backpack, full of sewn up holes and threadbare patches. Instead, he’d been dressed in a tunic from Termina. (Actually a blue vest that he'd stiched together, unused to the shorter shirts that Hylians so often wore) He imagined that’s maybe why no one in Kakariko recognized him.

He layed out some of his bottles of spring water from Termina in a row. He frowned as he looked through his bag, the Ocarina of Time missing. He glanced at the Fairy Ocarina, taking it out with the rest of his supplies. A few curious people wandered over, watching as he pulled out food. He smiled and waved.

An old man wandered over to him, "What a cute little display."

Link rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. The old man picked up an apple with a smile.

"Oh, I haven't seen one of these in a while, how many rupees?-"

Link shook his head and pushed it towards him, "All free. I'd just prefer to keep the bottles."

"Very kind of you, young man." The old man smiled and gave him a hearty pat on the back. Link coughed from the strength of it. He gave him a small smile in return as the old man walked off to do his advertising for him.

He sat back, playing the Fairy Ocarina, watching as people hesitantly took what they needed. ...He resolved to collect more things later.

-

The sky had slowly shifted to a more peaceful blue as the night edged closer. It was quiet. He sat on the roof of Impa’s house, dangling his feet over the edge.

He saw them walk into town. He felt time in the town slow with their entrance into town. He didn't really notice it when he was young; the gentle aid of the Goddess of Time. He assumed a lot of those magical things were normal (they were certainly explained to him like they were). He saw it now, though. Like a overly familiar, comforting blanket. His past self's presence, however, was like a itch at the back of his neck.

He didn't plan on talking to him. Or drawing attention to himself. He imagined it wouldn't help. Not worth the potential dangers.

He should have guessed Navi would notice a strange person on a roof. The fairy flew over to him, curious. His younger self turned to watch, straining to see what she did. She picked up speed. Getting closer than he expected she would. (Did she always use to hover this close to strangers when helping him talk to people further away?)

Navi stared at him, and...smiled. Soft.

She recognized him.

A falling sensation flipped his gut. He nearly genuinely fell, gripping the edge of the roof to ground himself. She actually recognized him. Any voice he had before was gone. Replaced by the fact that she recognized him.... By how much he missed her. A carved out hole in his chest.

She turned back as his younger self walked up to the building, tilting his head.

"What are you doing up there? Are you stuck like him?" His younger self called. He pointed at the roof the strange man had always been on.

Link swallowed and shook his head.

Navi spoke for him, just like she used to when the world was too big and too much. "No... I'm just watching the world go by."

"Oh! Okay! Have fun!"

"W-Wait!" Link called, voice cracking. He was getting the strangest version of deja-vu. Except everything was reversed.

He used to think this age... this ambiguous age he wasn't quite sure the actual number for was anymore- meant he was an adult. He didn't feel like an adult now. He couldn't imagine how young he actually was back then.

The green clad boy looked up at him, waiting, just as he was asked.

Link took a moment to gather his thoughts. "You... You're a child of the Forest, right?"

"...How did-"

"Never mind that, you'll... find out."

He could hear his voice echoed, memory and present blending in strange harmony. (Did he really sound like that to other people? He could've sworn his voice was deeper).

Link took a breath, "Um, make sure to tell your friends, hi. Give them a big hug. For me. I used to know some of them."

"Oh, really?! What's your name?"

Link picked at the shingles of the roof, frowning, "You can call me Grasshopper... One of my friends used to call me that."

The young boy tilted his head, then shrugged. "Okay Grasshopper!"

"And kid? ...Don't forget to be young again every once in a while... It'll be over before you know it..."

"...Ookay?" His younger self muttered, clearly confused. Link guessed it was a reasonable response....

His younger self looked exactly like he did now. They looked the same age. And yet... He was so young. It was just an illusion of maturity. He wondered if there was any older version of himself looking back at him now and realizing he was just...so young.

He sighed, "Stay safe out there, okay kid? ....If you need any tips about anything, come find me."

"Uh...I'll try. Er. Bye!" His younger self waved and Navi hovered next to Link for a quiet moment longer, keeping an eye on the retreating boy.

"Navi," Link said, in a hushed voice. She looked at him. His voice slipped from him once again.

"I know." She whispered back. She bumped his shoulder and he smiled a little.

"Mn..." He cleared his throat, hoping to clear the block on his voice with it, "You better make him rest more often... my sleep schedule is still wonky."

"You and I both know how hard that is. Once you have a goal in mind, it's hard to stop you."

Link laughed, shrugging, "Can't help it, I guess."

She shook her head, part exasperated, part fond. She tapped his head, "It seemed you turned out fine... I guess I better help that happen."

Link snorted and glanced towards the retreating boy. "Yeah... goodbye, Navi." He muttered, feeling a weight lift from his chest as he uttered those words.

She nodded, "Goodbye, Link." She zipped away, bopping his younger self on the head when she got to him. Link guessed probably in response to whatever bad plan he'd already begun concocting.

Link felt something wet leak down his cheek as he watched them leave. He really had said goodbye to his childhood now, hadn't he? He flopped onto his back, looking at the stars.

He frowned, blinks of memory drifting up into his the forefront of his mind. "Oh by the Golden Goddesses, now I got to stay in town for a year so he can come ask me things don't I?"

[pedropascalssimp]

Hoth

Boba fett x bounty hunter reader

Summary: y/n is a skilled bounty hunter who works for jabba the hut. But even jabba knows that y/n has her limitations, so once jabba sends y/n on a particular hunt, he makes sure that boba is there to assist much to the man in beskar dismay....

Warnings: language. Slight Violence. Boba being grumpy and a bit of an asshole. And fluff.

|Got bored and made this|

The room was full of small chatter, men gathered to watch jabba's women dance, and the women that strayed in eyeing the bounty hunter who walked in with a struggling qaurry hungrily. It was no secret to everyone in the galaxy that boba fett's reputation didn't always revolve around the fact he was the most dangerous man in the galaxy, a skilled bounty hunter who put fear in everyone's core from just a glimpse of his beskar. But he also upheld the reputation of being quite the lady's man, every woman he came across seemed to be wooed by his voice, his word's, his aura. And the man was a tease, he was Arrogant, stubborn and a hard ass. At least that's how most viewed.

Walking to be stood in front of jabba's throne, boba kicks the man he had restrained in the back of his knees, making him fall with a whimper.

"jabba! I - I was going to pay you! I really was! But -

Boba cuts the man's words short by pressing his blaster pistol to the back of his head. "save you're lies for someone fool enough to believe them" his accent couldn't be masked through the modulater in his helmet as he spoke to the qaurry.

Jabba laughs joyfully at the sight of boba fett's triumph, catching the thief who was dumb enough to still from him. "well done fett! You must be rewarded for you're victory! Name a price or take you're pick" jabba motions towards the women chained to his side.

But boba simply shakes his head, "I'll take whatever credits you offer and another job" boba spoke while watching jabba chuckle.

"ah, ready for another hunt? I'll give you you're reward and another job... But that's for tomorrow, now you rest boba fett" the disgusting fat creature said just as you walked in. Two men cowering away as you had them in cuffs.

This draws boba's attention, for he doesn't remember quite seeing you before. Now standing beside boba and his qaurry, you shoved the two men by your side down onto the ground harshly. Boba only watches, intrigued by your heavily armed self and beauty.

"ah! Y/n! You're back earlier then expected!" jabba happily announced, you try hiding your disgust with the looks of the creature, the slob before you. Who had women chained to his side, you hated jabba, hated the way the women looked at you with begging eye's to free them, oh how you wished you could...

"it was an easy job, to easy in fact" you spoke his native tongue while resting a hand on your hip. Not even bothering to glance over at the man who's gaze burned into the side of your head.

"then how about I give you a job more challenging? Would that satisfy you?" jabba asks and you simply nod your head confirming you'd like that. "it's to big of a job for you to handle alone my beautiful little hunter... So I'll send boba fett here to aid you" you lift a brow at jabba then glance over at the man beside you, his t-shaped visor already looking right back at you.

Like hell you'd let this man help you on a hunt, you knew boba fett, heard the stories people told of him. How he was a flirt with the women, how he was a stubborn hardass. You didn't want to work with him.

"I work alone" you and boba both said at the same time, looking at one another you roll your eye's at him.

Jabba laughs, "you two are the best in you're profession, it's only smart to send my best two for the job at hand" he said while looking at you and boba.

"and what is the job at hand?" boba asks before you could, his voice rolled out of his helmet smoothly, like soft dark velvet. You find yourself wanting to listen to him speak more, but you quickly shake that thought away.

"I want han solo, he owes me money... His payment has been overdue for months now" jabba says and starts eating something you wouldn't even poke. You grimace at the sight and look away, boba snickering at your disgust quietly but you heard and glare at him.

"when I said give me a harder job jabba, I didn't mean impossible!" you point out the logical fact han solo was a tricky bastard and hard to catch.

"that's why I'm sending my best hunters for the job, with the two of you looking for him it's possible!" jabba spoke with a mouthful nearly making you vomit. "I'll be rewarding you both generously" you sigh and start considering taking the job, even if it does mean working with boba fett.

"we'll do it" boba tells him not even letting you speak for yourself, this makes your anger surface fast.

"what the hell do you mean we? What if I don't want to do the job?" you say speaking your own language while jabba chews away at whatever the hell it is he's eating.

Boba huffs before crossing his arms, you can't help but flicker your gaze down to admire his strong arms. "you'd be a fool not to take it girl, it's a good paying job" he said making you look back up at his helmet.

"it's a useless hunt... I mean, I don't doubt my strength for a second nor my skills of hunting but I'm no match against a wookie!" you argue with the man, "I honestly don't think you could even take the big fur ball in a fight!" you chuckle dryly. But he scoffs and simply shows you the braided wookie scalps hanging off his shoulders. You look at him surprised, not expecting that. Sure boba looked strong and skilled enough to handle his own well, but he was also shorter then most men you've met and never thought he'd be able to slay not one but two wookies. But you was wrong obviously.

"you were saying princess?" he smugly replied making you tense your jaw and bite your tongue. Speechless. "we'll take my ship and do the job and you won't have to deal with me again..." boba said making you nod, looking away from him and up at jabba.

"have you both settled on a agreement?" jabba asks, watching how you kept your eyes locked on his yellow ones.

"were taking the job... But don't expect me to work with anyone else again jabba, you know I work alone" you say in his language once more, voice dripping with venom as you glare at him. he only chuckles, looking at you wickedly.

"don't ever speak to me with such hostility, for I could always use someone with you're beauty in my collection, I have a spot saved for you..." he threatened you, putting at the empty caller and chain. You look at the spot and back at jabba with a stoic expression, hiding your disgust and fear.

"forgive me for my ignorance then jabba" you say more calmly and rush out of the room, boba bidding jabba bye before following you.

Once out of his palace your greeted with the burning heat of the twin sun's and the scorching sand, practically jogging away from the palace you head toward the town, in dire need of a drink. Hearing footsteps behind you, you simply scoff.

"why are you following me?" you snap, angry with jabba and this stupid hunt you had to prepare for. The cantina comes in sight making you nearly relax at the thought of drinking something, your mouth feeling dry.

"because I'd think you'd want to discuss the upcoming hunt" he said now walking beside you matching your pace.

"well I was hoping I could relax a little in the confines of this dump but obviously that's not gonna happen" you huff and walk through the door of the cantina with boba.

"let me buy you a drink and we'll discuss it here" he offers, and you could never refuse a free drink, so accept his offer reluctantly and slouch in a booth.

Slave I was a pretty neat ship you'd have to admit, you was seated in the co-pilot seat messing around with buttons. Fascinated by the different types of buttons in many colors, you peek over at the mandalorian man who was focused on flying the ship rather then your insistent poking around at the ships controls. Ever so curious you click a red button making a light flicker on, catching the attention of boba. You quickly placed your hands in your lap as if you didn't do anything and he eye's you suspiciously.

"stop playing with things... You act like a toddler" he muttered, watching you shake your head in denial.

"I didn't do anything!" you lie with a innocent smile, but he saw right through it.

"don't lie princess, I saw you out of the corner of my eye. Now keep you're hands to yourself" he scolds you while looking back over the stars that zoomed by.

You sigh deeply and Lean back in the seat, you was bored. Hyperspace not taking you to your destination fast enough in your opinion. Looking over at boba you decide to ask him so questions, what else was there to do?

"so boba... Do you ever take the helmet off?" you ask the question that's been brewing in your mind the moment you saw him. For the first few seconds he's silent before sighing.

"yes" he answered briefly, making you nod with a little grin.

"why don't you take it off now. It must be hot under there" you say, eager to see his face. You'd be lying if you didn't say you wasn't attracted to the mandalorian man before you, he was intriguing, your infatuation with him growing by the second as you traveled with him for only four hours. But damn was boba fett really slithering his way into your thoughts, plaguing your mind as you basically kept your gaze glued to his strong build. His strong arms and damn nice thighs -

"because I don't want to" he spoke snapping you out of your straying thoughts. You only nod and think of another question to toss at him.

"why not? I'm curious to see the man who was ignorant enough to take this job" you tease him with a grin, his helmet tilting in your direction slowly before he scoffs.

"because it's just killing you to see my face, I don't think you've earned that privilege yet though princess... But there's ways you can change my mind" he trailed off with a smug tone. You could hear the smirk in his voice making you shake your head with a chuckle.

"I'll survive without seeing it then" you said with a cheeky grin still. Although your mind began wondering to the ways you could change his mind....

"suit yourself then girl" he shrugs and leans back in his seat, relaxing some before the big hunt.

You smile at him with amusement, so far boba wasn't really that bad you thought. Sure he was smug and grumpy, but other then that he seemed like someone you could get along with.

Until you arrived at hoth, your destination where han and his wookie was supposedly at. This whole situation you found yourself in made you realize that boba fett was indeed, an asshole.

You sat in the ice cave shivering, teeth chattering together while you had your back pressed against the ice wall while hugging your knees to your chest. Small Fur blanket and jacket not nearly enough to keep you warm on this planet. Even the damn fire you made not enough to warm you.

But boba? He seemed fine, his warm under clothes and beskar enough to keep him warm as he laid on his fur blanket by the fire. Arms crossed behind his head as he laid on his back trying to rest some.

You look at him with doe eyes, "b - boba... I think it'd be b - best if we cuddled" you point out the obvious, for you was freezing to death and needed extra body heat.

"I don't cuddle princess" he states, brushing your chattering teeth and shaking off as he tries getting sleep.

You huff, a cloud caused by your breath wafting into the air as you scoot closer to the fire nearly on top of it. "if you wa-wake up and I'm dead... It's y-your fault" you stutter from the cold, nose and cheeks red as you sniffle. Maker this planet was hell.

"you act like you've never experienced I little temperature drop girl, toughen up" he grumbled while making himself comfortable. If you wasn't freezing you'd kick his ass....

"I'm used to planet's like tatooine dickhead" you muttered angrily, Glaring at the man. He only chuckles and shakes his head. That really got on your nerves.

But instead of shooting him or stabbing him in his damned thigh like you desired, your take your fur blanket that hardly covered your whole body, your legs uncovered sadly. You curl up into a shivering ball by the fire and try to sleep, hoping that while your sleeping you can forget the unkind coldness biting at your very being. Closing your eyes you try and lose yourself to sleep, but your shivering kept you awake. Body feeling numb from the cold.

Boba looks over at you with a little frown behind the helmet, hating to see you so cold.... He knew his beskar would be cold to the touch so he reluctantly stands up with a huff, stripping of his beskar leaving him in his underclothes. You peel your eyes open at the clatter of each piece hitting the icey ground, that's when you seen him take his helmet off, revealing a grumpy expression and dark brown eyes looking at you with annoyance. His dark hair short yet soft looking as he strides over with his blanket slung over his arm.

"you're going to die if you don't stay warm" he spoke, his voice even more intoxicating without the vocoder you always heard mask it. You feel your heart melt at the fact boba laid behind you, spooning you from behind as he wraps you up in his big arms, chin resting on your shoulder as he pulled you flush against his chest.

You sigh at his warmth, he felt warmer then the damn fire in front of you. Your shivering slowly subsides as you relish in his warmth, his touch. His and your fur blanket keeping the cold out as he held you.

"thank you..." you murmur, heart fluttering steadily in your chest as you never want to leave this man's arms again. It was comforting, a feeling of pure safety. And it was, he kept you safe from the cold.

"I can't have you die on me now, we still have a bounty to catch" he he whispers in your ear, warm breath fanning over your skin making you shiver for a whole different reason. His large hand finding yours as he held it, letting you cradle it against your chest.

"and here I thought you wanted me dead" you snort with amusement, referring to how you've basically annoyed him through this whole trip. He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest.

"it would make this hunt far easier, but unfortunately it would also make it dull" he whispers, this time his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. Sending chills over your skin. He noticed and smirks, "besides you still haven't earned the privilege to see my face..." he lightly nibbles at your ear making you gasp at the abrupt action, heart pounding.

Damn boba sure knew how to warm a woman up, you was instantly feeling a warmth spread over your cheeks painting them red. "but I've seen you're face -

Your words was cut short as boba chuckles and takes his hand from yours making you nearly pout until he cups your cheek turning your head to look at him, dark eyes seemed darker as he leans down, lips ghosting over your lips now.

"yes... But now you gotta earn it" he pressed his lips to yours, your eyes shutting as you relish in the kiss.

Boba fett wasn't that bad after all. In fact, you hoped that you two would be going on more hunts together in the future.....

___________________________________________

A/n: and I oOp.

[another-dr-another]

hm hm wonder if tsurugi is done with otori now? let's go visit him!

Maeda, narrating - I... I like Kobashikawa, but I don't know much about him...

Maeda - So! I want to avoid upsetting him, but need to find out more to better understand what happened here...

Maeda - Time to chat with Ōtori.

~*~

Ōtori - Hey, Maeda.

Maeda - Hello, Ōtori. Can we talk?

Ōtori - Jeez, you sound so formal, compared to what's normal for you...

Ōtori - And I would say yes, but I need to stay here and play translator for Kobashikawa.

Tsurugi - Oh! Kobashikawa, are you okay to tell me about what happened.

Kobashikawa - Mhm, ready whenever you are.

Maeda - ...What about your whiteboard?

Ōtori - It's a lot nicer to sign, sort of like... talking with someone you're close to,

Ōtori - Versus applying for a job when you've already made a really bad first impression.

Maeda - That makes sense...

Tsurugi - Oh!

Tsurugi - Then Kobashikawa, why not just sign! Ōtori doesn't need to translate for me.

Ōtori - I don't?

Tsurugi - Oh! Oh Oh Oh!

Tsurugi - Wait I love getting to do this I just never get the chance…

Ōtori - …What?

Tsurugi - I can’t thing of a joke to make… so whatever.

Tsurugi - I’m Hard of Hearing, my JSL isn’t perfect, but it’s definitely conversation level.

Ōtori - W-wait, for real?

Tsurugi - Well, of course I’m better at KSL, I’m Korean!

Maeda - That’s not… what he was getting at.

Tsurugi - Oh, I know. Just had to have some fun with this.

Tsurugi - But yeah, I’ve got a hearing aid and everything- took it out for the pool, obvi, and once it’s out for the day,

Tsurugi - I tend to not really bother with it, but I’m… kinda surprised you didn’t notice it earlier.

Kobashikawa - …Singular?

Tsurugi - Singular! It’s my right ear that kept getting damaged…

Tsurugi - But we're kinda straying off the important topic to something that isn't as fun to talk about.

Kobashikawa - Got it... not to doubt you, but reply in JSL for me? To make sure this’ll work

Tsurugi - Oh!

Tsurugi - Yeah, of course!

Tsurugi - I may be… a bit rusty, but even if there’s some words I don’t know, we can just use the alphabet, right?

Kobashikawa - Right!

Kobashikawa - Ōtori, your translation services are no longer needed!

Ōtori - H-huh?! He's not even fluent!

Kobashikawa - Just for this one conversation, you're free to go talk with Maeda now~

Ōtori - I… yeah, that makes more sense.

Ōtori - ...Tsurugi, did you see the shit Kobashikawa said that I wouldn't translate?

Tsurugi - Nah, wasn't paying attention.

Tsurugi - What did you say, Kobashikawa?

Kobashikawa - ...It happened long enough ago I can say I forgot, right?

Tsurugi - I get what you mean! Don't worry about it.

Maeda - ...We've really just been here for a few days...

Maeda - In fact, it's still August.

Tsurugi - Feels like August two years into the future...- or maybe even longer?

Kobashikawa - Just about seems that way, huh?

Maeda - ...

Maeda - Ōtori, we can talk now?

Ōtori - Yeah! What's going on?

Maeda - Can we go somewhere more private?

Ōtori - Okay, sure...

//Maeda and Ōtori go to one of the unoccupied corners of the room.

Maeda - You and Kobashikawa are decently close, right?

Ōtori - I... guess, what of it?

Maeda - Could you tell me more about his selective mutism?

Ōtori - Mhm, but why not just ask him?

Maeda - Uh... the reason I'm curious is because...

Maeda - I don't understand how he was able to call for help if he's mute,

Maeda - And I don't wanna come across as unsensitive, or upset him even more...

Maeda - It's just weird to me.

Ōtori - I mean...

Ōtori - He was an a situation that would traumatize anyone, brought back painful memories,

Ōtori - And heard help just walking by, and realized the person here he was closed to was right outside.

Ōtori - And after managing to choke out just one name- you heard how strained he was, right?

Maeda - I... I did, yeah...

Ōtori - He was left unable to communicate at all, and even now still doesn't like to do anything but sign,

Ōtori - And he draws back in on himself whenever he's not actively being spoken to.

Ōtori - Even if it seemed he had faked things, he didn't kill Mekaru,

Ōtori - And we both know he had to watch her die after trying to save her.

Ōtori - So... I don't know, but I'm choosing to follow the evidence that supports Kobashikawa, and pursue other answers.

~*~

Updated Truth Bullet: Higas Guess

~*~

Maeda, narrating - Huh...

Maeda - I don't... know a lot about selective mutism,

Maeda - But I think Kobashikawas reactions have been genuine.

Maeda - ...Then again, I did trust Inoris autopsy, so...

Maeda - Ugh, this was all so much information...

Maeda - I wanna talk with Tsurugi, to try and process everything, and see what he learned.

[Talk with Tsurugi]

[rolandtowen]

After years of courting, Sokka is still unraveling the layers of shame and guilt that Ozai wrapped Zuko in. An assassination attempt reveals yet another level of Zuko's trauma - luckily, Sokka is by his side his time to help him through the aftereffects.

content warnings: past child abuse, original character death, blood and injury, self-esteem issues | can be read as a follow-up to all the perfumes of arabia | read it under the cut!

“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”

- Mary Oliver

Sokka wakes up to the smell of burning flesh.

At once, he's out bed, grabbing his sword from it's place on the wall and assessing the situation. As he looks around, Zuko staggers back into their room, breathing heavily and gesturing for Sokka to drop his sword.

Zuko's shirt is slick with blood.

He collapses to the ground, his back sliding down the wall. Sokka rushes to him, kneeling at his side, checking for open wounds, praying to Yue that no major veins have been hit -

"It's not mine, I'm okay, it's - it's Min's." Zuko has a glassy look in his eyes. Sokka looks away from him for long enough to into the hallway outside their room. The crowd of Kyoshi Warriors parts, and Sokka can see two bodies on the ground. One, burnt beyond recognition - the other belongs to one of Zuko's personal aids, Min. He could have been sleeping, except for the mass of blood pouring from a laceration on his abdomen. Zuko makes a broken noise and Sokka's snapped back to this moment, Zuko crying in front of him.

"Zuko, what happened? You need to talk, baby. You gotta talk or you'll hyperventilate."

Zuko takes a painfully deep breath. "I thought I heard... something, and I sent Min to go check on it - and then I heard him scream - and I ran out and saw all of the blood, Sokka I never knew someone had so much blood in them - and then there was a man trying to stab me, and I defended myself." Zuko looks where his hands have fallen in his lap, trembling. "It, it was self defense right? I didn't want to, but he had just hurt Min and I was so scared -"

"Shh, shh, baby," Sokka presses a kiss to Zuko's forehead, pulling his shaking hands into a strong hold. "You did everything just right. You did everything right." He squeezes Zuko's hands, applying what he hopes is the right amount of pressure to bring Zuko down from his panic attack. "We're going to sit right here and let the Warriors take care of it."

Sokka holds Zuko in his arms for what feels like hours, until Suki taps him on the shoulder and mouths, all clear. Zuko is still wide-eyed, but he's stopped his shaking for the most part.

As Suki walks away, Zuko stops her. "Suki..." Sokka can see the tears forming in his eyes. "Did Min...?"

She crouches down next to the couple. "I'm so sorry, Zuko. It was too late."

Zuko lets out a wail of emotion, and Sokka can swear he feels flames lick out of Zuko's mouth.

"It should have been me!" Zuko's voice breaks and silence falls like a curtain between them.

"How can you say that?" Zuko can't meet his eyes. He cradles his head in his hands,  "Spirits, Zuko, look at me! How can you say that?" Zuko looks up at Sokka. His bottom lip is trembling and his eyes are damp. "Because it's true." "I don't know what monster convinced you of this," he whispers, gently cradling Zuko's face. "But you deserve nothing that happened to Min." Sokka can barely catch Zuko's whispered reply.

"Are you sure?"

"Beloved, I have never been more sure of anything in my life," Sokka whispers, pushing sweaty strands of hair from Zuko's face. "Please, let me help you?"

Zuko exhales, and then he breaks. He sobs into Sokka's shoulder, and Sokka rubs circles into his back, whispering in his good ear - it's okay, I'm so sorry, you're safe here, you didn't deserve this - until the storm within Zuko rains itself out, and Zuko is quivering in his arms.

"I'm sorry."

"Zuko, you have nothing to be sorry for," Sokka pulls away to get a look at his partner's face. There he is, eyes red-rimmed and skin pale, but still Zuko. "Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to get you a glass of water, you are going to drink it, and then we'll get ready for bed. You need sleep. And I'm clearing your schedule tomorrow."

Before Zuko can protest, Sokka waves Suki down and instructs her to find Zuko's secretary and push all of his appointments back at least two days. Zuko zones out as they talk, his head swimming with the action of the last hour. He's vaguely aware of Sokka leaving the floor and returning with two cups and a jug full of water. He can hear the water pouring out of the jug, and thinks about how badly he wants to wash his hands of the heinous act he just did - but he can't, and Spirits, Aang is going to hate him -

"Hey, come back to me." Sokka is pushing a half-full cup of water into his hands now. "I'm going to take a sip, and then you take one, okay?"

Zuko obliges him, and they sit like that for an eternity, trading sips back and forth. Zuko can feel the fog clearing from his brain, can see his surroundings coming into focus each time he raises the cup to his lips. His eyes finally settle on Sokka's face, and he's rewarded with one of Sokka's soft smiles.

"Are you back with me?"

Zuko nods. "I'm -"

"Baby, if you apologize to me, I'm throwing you to the turtleducks." Sokka shifts so that they're both sitting with their backs against the wall. "Do you think you can sit on the edge of the bed for me?" He holds out his hands, and Zuko accepts them, allowing himself to be dragged to his feet and placed on their bed. Sokka stands in front of him.

"Is it okay if I take this off?" He tugs at the shoulder of the bloody shirt Zuko's wearing.

"Please."

Zuko lifts his arms as Sokka guides the article of clothing over his head, and then disposes of it in a wastebasket. No sense trying to get that much blood out of shirt that will only bring back bad memories. Sokka grabs a few things from their private bathroom, and returns to Zuko, who looks up at him with a staggering amount of trust. Sokka checks him one last time for any injuries he could have missed, and then begins the painstaking process of wiping the blood from Zuko's arms and chest.

"Is this okay?"

Zuko nods, eyes trained on the water basin that becomes darker every time Sokka rinses his cloth. "Hey, look at me." Zuko meets Sokka's eyes. "We don't have to do it tonight, but at some point we're going to have to talk about what you said when you were breaking down."

"That I deserved it?"

Sokka nods, wiping at a stubborn spot on Zuko's right wrist. "I know you're a self-sacrificing idiot, but this somehow feels deeper."

Zuko sighs. Sokka knows about the Agni Kai. But had he ever elaborated about Ozai's casual abuse? Probably not, for the first few years of their relationship, Zuko was trying to run a country without a coup every five minutes.

"I - You know about my banishment." Sokka nods, lips drawing tightly at the thought. "But that wasn't... unusual. Ozai, he - he thought that pain was a really effective teaching tool for me."

Sokka's finished with his washing, and settled on the bed next to Zuko, gingerly taking one hand into his.

"I guess, growing up with that always hanging over me, I think it made me reckless. At some point, I just accepted the fact that I deserved to be hurt." Sokka gives his hand a squeeze.

"I'm so sorry."

Zuko rubs at his good eye, willing away the tears budding there. "There was nothing you could do."

"No," Sokka concedes. "But we can do something now. I don't know how, but I will find a way to show that he's wrong." He brings their hands up and kisses the back of Zuko's. "You don't deserve any of that. You deserve kindness, and compassion, and good tea, and, and - anything but that. You're a good man, Zuko. And a good leader. You deserve good things."

Zuko swallows, a lump forming in his throat at the affirmations.

"Can you say that?"

Zuko tries, he really does: "I, I deserve... I -"

"It's okay if you can't yet." Sokka pulls him into a hug. "I have no doubt we'll get there."

Zuko melts into the embrace. "Together?"

"Yeah," Sokka murmurs. "We'll make it together."

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 16

First time reader click here

Summary/TWs: Trouble is brewing. Canon-typical violence, graphic descriptions of wounds and Clint whump. Bad, terrible, no-good medical accuracy. Aliens. Reader is an anxious genius with low self-esteem and PTSD. ✨spicy sadness✨

From now on, chapters will be posted un-beta-ed. She's taking a lil break. 💖💝✨

I liked to think I had made peace with the fact that my boys and girls had one hell of a dangerous job. Natasha, Clint, Steve and Bucky frequently left for missions and while I missed their usual bickering in the background, it wasn't like the tower's common room became absolutely quiet. The fact that they mostly did recon-only missions helped, too, as they would come home unharmed and in one piece. The worry was there but subtle - like setting the table and including silverware for the people who were gone on a mission.

Peter's patrols went less smoothly, usually. He was small and even in his spider-suit, the boy was frequently underestimated by common thugs. Apparently, they didn't know how to read the news - it was blatantly obvious the hero was enhanced. And yet somehow, Pete more often than not sported all sorts of bruises, scratches and tears.

Tony and I routinely tore out our hair over the spiderboy's carelessness. The engineer had a funny way of showing he cared for Peter. Once I got to know him better, my brain dubbed them as Irondad and Spiderson. And it wasn't weird at all, somehow, that I was basically fucking my best friend's dad. Tony never made me uncomfortable, if anything, he went to great lengths to accommodate my whims. Tony continuously found time for me, answered my dumb questions and soldiered through the shenanigans I got up to after having too much caffeine and too little sleep.

Sitting in the quiet, empty common room was unnerving. It was shortly after dinner time - the evening news skipped their usual political debate in favour of the battle that was raging downtown, the reason for my headache and wrung hands.

I missed Tony's running mouth. The aliens the team was fighting looked quite hilarious, murderous intentions aside, and I could only imagine the way Tony and Clint would mock them. Hentai rejects. Tentacle porn knock-offs. The aliens were squid-like, about half the size of a human and very, very slippery, from what I spied on the TV.

An irritated-looking Stephen had me equal parts apprehensive and drooling - one after another, he conjured up a series of small portals, teleporting the aggressive octopods only god knew where. It would have looked incredibly badass if not for the exhausted sheen of sweat I could see on his brow, even despite the camera footage being shaky and grainy.

The news footage showed Tony - Iron Man, soaring contentedly through the darkening skies and taking out the squirmy mass of tentacles with his plasma beam repulsors. Steve and Bucky and Loki appeared too, sporadically, being well-oiled murder machines. Nothing new.

Yet, I worried. The little worm of doubt was squirming full-force. I tried to ignore it, yet pacing, sitting and playing Candy Crush got me nowhere. I pestered Friday to order pizza, the team's usual post-mission order plus a large one for me - stress-eating was better than stress-popping-molly in a tower full of superheroes. It took some courage to admit to myself I'd gotten attached enough to be this much from running away from all that in a blind panic.

And it would be the best option for them, really, because they had much sensible things to worry about than me. Yet every time, my selfishness won against even the most logical arguments I presented. I hated fighting myself but it was all I did - not only I was in love with Tony, I loved him.

Even when he forgot about my existence for five days, to emerge from his workshop with a new piece of tech that revolutionised one or another or something else. I loved him when he annoyed the ever living fuck out of everybody, me included, because I knew that it was hilarious to see people getting riled up over totally trivial shit. I loved Tony Stark when he ran away from his feelings, and everybody else's, because he never managed to run far enough. Or he didn't want to. I loved him, because he was like a multilayered puzzle, complex and captivating and beautiful.

I thought a lot about it, more than people would have noticed. For someone as selfish and goal-oriented as me, Tony lived in my head rent-free most of the time. And nobody would find out if I had the choice because let's face it, I'm a short cameo in his life. I'm a fuckin' catch and even then, I can't expect to hold his attention forever. His genius is too brilliant to settle for one when he could easily have the whole damn world.

Another hour consisted of me pacing and accompanying the pizza delivery boys to the common floor. It was hilarious - they were obviously star-struck about walking the same carpet as their heroes. I could see the faint hope of meeting one of the Avengers in their eyes, their posture. All they got was me - in my sweatpants, Tony's tee and no bra. My tits got the attention they deserved, at least.

My lounging was interrupted by a golden circle noisily appearing in the middle of the room, followed by Clint abruptly falling through it with a pained moan. I froze, the pizza in my mouth turning to ash - Strange poked his head through the hole in space, finding my eyes. He looked exhausted.

"Help him, I don't have much time," He breathed and disappeared, closing the portal behind himself.

The pizza piece flew back in the box as I stumbled, jumped over the headrest, kneeling beside Clint in no time. "Bird, tell me what hurts," I demanded. Not that I had a clue what to do. I mean, I knew basic first aid and...

"My leg," He gritted out, curling in on himself. Fear flooded me, limbs turning to lead. Hawk had a good pain tolerance, I knew he could break an arm and not utter a single syllable until he thought it safe to showcase his vulnerability. "That squid motherfucker stung me, I don't know. My whole body is on fire," His speech was slurred.

I nodded, deciding to limit the touching to only the necessary actions. The leg of his pants was torn and the wound itself was shaped like a whip mark, thin and red and angry. It oozed a yellowish pus-like substance, it smelled bitter, almost like stale water and seaweed salad. I didn't know much about aliens but jellyfish stings, I could work with. A short Google check later, I had an approximate plan.

"Friday, run diagnostics." I ordered, taking a deep breath and filing away the fear, the panic and anxiety for later.

"Mr. Barton has a wound that appears to be contaminated with an unknown chemical that is causing an adverse reaction. The elevated body temperature suggests that his immune system is fighting it. I would suggest a blood test to examine the offending specimens."

A blood draw? I could do that. I definitely, absolutely, could do that.

"Bird, Clint, did you hear that?" I gently touched his shoulder only for him to recoil from my hand, muttering unintelligibly. "Pretty bird, I'm going to help you. Let me." My bedside manner needed improvement - with brain running a mile a minute, I babbled utter nonsense as Friday directed me to the needed supplies. Getting the blood was a feat on it's own - I had to physically sit on top of Clint to get but a tiny vial of the red liquid.

A few tears escaped the emotional fortress I had to build within myself. Clint was in so, so much pain - pain I was inadvertently making worse by touching him. I sprinted to Bruce's lab, feeding the sample to be analysed by Friday, tearing through the room in a hurricane. First aid kit, IV, saline, antibiotics. Restraints, too, just in case.

"Analysis complete. The contaminant appears to be acting similarly to a parasitic infection with a short life-span. Primarily feeds on copper, iron and various metals contained in the human body. Does not appear to reproduce or multiply, my algorithms cannot determine the cause of said behaviour. Calculating..." Friday's mechanical voice paused. "I have calculated the approximate duration of Mr. Barton's symptoms. Onset of critical stage in one to three hours. Complete extinction of parasitic organisms in approximately sixty hours."

"Fri, do you think I have a chance of saving Clint before he goes crazy from pain? And have you figured out what's causing it?" My brain was all over the place.

"I have the best faith in you, miss." The AI sounded almost... Comforting? "I am still running multiple diagnostics. My algorithms suggest the organisms may be attacking the nerve endings - reason unclear."

An idea struck me. A crazy, brash, absurd idea. The pathogen was alien and we didn't have antibiotics to kill it. Even if I gave Clint some sort of medicine, it could go awry really really quickly. Besides, wasn't there a medical team for this..?

"Friday, alert the medical suite."

"Request denied. Per Mr. Stark's protocols, only Sir himself and Dr. Banner are authorized to request medical assistance in case of alien pathogen contamination."

"Fuck. Fuck, that makes no fuckin' sense!" I yelled helplessly. "Okay, do you have blood matching Clint's type laying around?" I asked sarcastically. This protocol pissed me off. What was Tony scared of? That someone would steal alien germs? Too late for that, there were plenty of samples all over the sidewalks downtown.

"A-positive, blue refrigerator, top shelf." Friday's answer was curt.

My hands shook. My whole body shook. Clint was laying in fetal position right where I'd left him and the man wasn't looking better - he became paler, dark circles under his eyes, clammy sweat breaking on every exposed part of his skin. Moving him was out of the question - Clint violently recoiled from me once I tried to touch him.

Reluctantly, I dragged the dining room chairs and piled up whatever heavy things I could on top of them, praying to every god that they would hold a trained man trash around in pain. Then, came the restraints. Belts with clips unlike one could see in a movie with a psych ward. I fumbled with them, then with Clint - very slowly, but I got both of his arms fastened and the man rolled onto his back.

"Wwhat... S'appening..?" Hawk finally slurred, cracking his eyes to see my (probably) disheveled and panicked face.

"This is going to hurt, I won't lie. A lot," I rambled, setting up the tools needed for both a blood draw and a blood transfusion. "I'm not a doctor. I'm not a scientist. You have alien parasites in your blood. I'm going to get rid of em," I announced, not mentioning the fact that I had to Google all the things I was going to do to him.

"S'okay, I trust you," Clint slurred again, moving about much more weakly than before. The tips of his fingers began to turn blue and the blood vessels on his face stood out in a pink-purple web. Not good.

My finest thinking moment: laying out some tarp around the archer and putting on gloves and a mask to minimize the possibility of getting infected. I started with the wound first, carefully wiping away the yellowish goop and immediately sealing it into a biohazard container. Some alcohol around the edges, the wound began emanating a faint wisp of smoke as Clint yelled hoarsely. I didn't even react - man, aliens and their germs were fuckin' weird.

Another biohazard container traveled next to Clint's arm. I had a disposable scalpel in one hand and my courage in another - it was now or never. The vein I was cutting was a minor one, but with Clint's body in total disarray, it was an ugly fountain of pinkish-purple liquid that spurted from it. I was no doctor but blood shouldn't have looked like that.

I stared at the timer on my phone. Twenty seconds, thirty, fifty. Eighty seconds, the blood was beginning to have more of a red hue. Clint's breathing slowed, tremors subsiding by a smidgen. One hundred and eighty seconds, the stream was a healthy deep red colour. With a swift motion, I wrapped up the wound, folded his arm, tied off the blood flow higher up his arm with a spare restraint. Clint wasn't moving much anymore; my hand that periodically checked his pulse shook but dutifully did it's job. His heart was working steady.

Compared to having to drain a friend of his blood, setting up the IV with a transfusion was a walk in the park. My mind was empty of any thoughts but for the actions needed to complete the process.

The container with contaminated blood, closed, sealed and put in a plastic bag, along with the gloves and the tarp. My own exposed flesh, meticulously scrubbed with alcohol until the skin became red and raw. All the instruments, Clint's pants, my clothes - in the bag.

The archer himself was laying still, his breathing steady and calm, face no longer looking like he was one step away from the grave. After undoing the restraints, I wiped down every surface we touched with Tony's vodka - rubbing alcohol had run out and I was too emotionally drained to go downstairs and leave Clint for too long. Whenever the booze collided with a stray drop of blood, a wispy smoke emerged. Such an interesting reaction. Part of me couldn't wait to examine the phenomena together with Bruce. The other part was considering the possibility of having a panic attack in a seafood restaurant.

"Fri, keep an eye- a sensor on Clint for me, will ya? I need a shower and some pants," I denounced tiredly, padding to the communal shower. I found respite, however brief, under the steam for a few minutes. Then I found Tony's old tee and a pair of someone's sweats - I didn't care whose. Post-stress adrenaline shivers had me feeling stark naked in the middle of Alaska despite the room being a toasty, comfortable temperature according to the digital thermostat.

Now I just had to think about what to tell the team.

Propping Clint's head on a decorative pillow and covering him with a soft fleece blanket was the least I could have done for the long suffering archer. The floor was hard but I sat next to him, running a hand through his matted hair, my brain an incomprehensible mess.

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