#and Omar just looks like the source of light

[lovelierbitsoflife]

Omar, Edvin and Nurbo on Angela BD Nakitende’s instagram post

[heliza24]

@megfeiny left this comment on one of my posts:

“If you're up for it, I'd love to hear your thoughts on the Lucia scene in S1.E5. Simon's exasperation combined with his inability to resist Wilhelm's vulnerability is so powerful. And that hug!!! Oh my god. I have no words. It's just beautiful.”

So I thought I’d write a little installment of my intimate scene analysis series about this scene. (You can find the other posts in this series here, here, and here). I was especially interested to revisit it because I know some people really love it, but I haven’t really thought about it separate from the other things going on in that episode before. So let’s dive in and see what we can discover. 

The atmosphere of this scene is really off the charts, isn’t it? Sometimes I feel like a broken record talking about the beautiful lighting in all of the intimate scenes but it’s incredible here. I like that there are some candles lit on the windowsill of the classroom, giving an in-universe light source so it feels natural. But there’s also no way just a few candles could create such a soft, golden effect across the entire classroom. So hats off to the cinematographer for making the lighting feel both realistic and heightened at once. I love the way it transforms the classroom, which has often been a place where the differences between Simon and Wilhelm are reinforced (think about Simon realizing he has to basically bribe the teacher to give him the same grades as the rich kids) into a private sanctuary where they are equals.

I think it’s worth pointing out too that this scene isn’t without its strife; I think you can tell that Simon especially feels conflicted about Alexander taking the blame for the drugs. But as @megfeiny points out, Wilhelm’s total emotional vulnerability is what allows Simon to still connect to him, despite those conflicting feelings. And the way that the classroom feels out of time, separated from the rest of the school, reinforces that this is the only place that Wilhelm feels like he can be that vulnerable.

The image of both boys in their Lucia gowns is also really striking. They look like angels, which reinforces the idea that they’re in their own sacred world. White is also the color of innocence, and the gowns have very childish looking collars.  This is the last moment of innocence that Wilhelm and Simon have together before the video. I also think it’s significant that everyone is wearing a Lucia gown in this episode except August. I am not Swedish and am not super familiar with the Lucia tradition, but I know it’s about bringing light in the long, dark winter. That’s a thing that Wilhelm and Simon are both about to need, and August is the one causing the darkness in their lives. 

I’ve already written about the needle drop used here, Samurai Swords, in my post about the music in the show. But I love how it seems to apply to both Wilhelm and Simon and August, and how its melody really captures the sadness and desperation of the scene. 

I also think one of the reasons this scene is so effective is the editing. The way it cuts back and forth between Wilmon and August uploading the video creates a sense of urgency. These two events are happening at the same time, and we can feel Wilhelm and Simon’s time together running out. I also love how Sara and Felice both have significant scenes in this sequence as well (Sara seeing August, Felice giving Sara the role of Lucia). This is one of the moments where all five characters feel perfectly balanced. (Another editing/camera thing that I love, that isn’t about Wilhelm/Simon: the slow push into Sara watching August upload the video through the door of the library. It lets us feel the emotional and physical distance between Sara and August in that moment, but also captures her curiosity and his feeling of doom at being caught).

I also just have to shout out Edvin and Omar’s acting in this scene. The way Simon sighs with frustration when Wilhelm says that Simon is “the only person here he can actually talk to” even as he stands up to embrace him, and the way that Wilhelm is kind of shrunk into himself from all the stress, is just so well done. And of course the way they’re hanging on to each other for dear life in that hug is so affecting.

I think those are all of my thoughts! If you have another scene you want me to look at in more depth, my ask box is open.

[simplegenius042]

OCs as aesthetics for the entities

Tagged by @inafieldofdaisies

Tagging @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @strangefable @deputy-morgan-malone @adelaidedrubman @derelictheretic @g0dspeeed @jillvalentinesday @wrathfulrook @poisonedtruth @voidika @ec-10 @minilev @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @a-rose-in-a-garden-of-weeds @snake-in-the-garden @shallow-gravy and @strafethesesinners

Will be doing a menagerie of characters from The UnTitledverse, Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, Life, Despair & Monsters and Wings And Horns. You can find the post here and similar posts on @sagamemes tumblr in general.

Joaquin Cobalt

i.  THE BURIED.   weighed blankets.  drowning.  the comfort of a loved one’s weight.  soil and sand piling on top of you.  hugging so hard it hurts a little.  cramped hiding spots.  letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool.  walls pressing in on you.  not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little.  dragging the last second before you have to inhale.  lonely subways.  feeling like one with the earth.  a layer of dirt on you.  looking for something below.  cardboard boxes and tiny pillow forts.  hands calloused from digging.  knowing that your purpose is just below the surface.  entering your final resting place before it kills you.  a storm drowning you out.  dust and sand speaking to you.

Paul Yellowjack

ii.  THE CORRUPTION.   insects.  a close imitation of the natural course of life.  an illness in a community.  a rag that dirties more than it cleans.  an untreated wound.  containment.  breaching containment.  unbreathable air.  fungi.  one with that you love.  one with what loves you.  a corpse unfit for a glass case.  hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings and legs.  honeycomb patterns.  an ecosystem within a person.  a curse passed on.  the hubris of a scientist.  an ugly death where a glorious one is owed.  blood on a handkerchief.  parasites.  something pushing up the sewer.  a mask to keep something out.  trypophobia.  knowing you belong.  death weeks after impact.  fever.  food that’s gone off.  pandora’s box.  death behind a glass.

Kara Darling iii.  THE DARK.   shadows.  lights that turn off by themselves.  the feel of cold marble.  a beaked creature in the night.  the difference between seeing darkness and seeing nothing.  touch of something you can’t see.  hiding under a blanket.  white, clouded eyes.  months without going outside during sunlight.  pouring dark.  unscrewing lightbulbs.  black matter.  light sensitivity.  a starless night.  time before light was created.  a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to.  withering plants.  a world without a sun.  footfalls in an empty house in the night.  a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should.  desperate reach for a flashlight.  clothes that hide your shape.  staying unperceivable.  winter months in the north.  an empty church

Silva Omar iv.  THE DESOLATION.   senseless pain.  warmth of faith.  wax where skin should be.  a blazing fire.  heat without a source.  the third or fourth tragedy in the family.  losing everything you’ve ever held dear.  so much to live for, gone so soon.  the smell of gasoline.  touch that scars.  coffee cup that never goes cold.  scorch marks on wood.  inescapably warm air.  a child born in fire.  death of a loved one.  a candle without a flame.  an altar in the middle of the woods.  animals with burnt fur.  plastic explosives.  burning hot metal.  sweating in an interrogation room.  never touching a loved one.  disfigurement.  a kiss that ruins you.  the scent of burning fat.  a tattoo that terrifies its viewer.  the agony of hellfire displayed as art.  auburn hair.  little clothing in cold weather.  a ripple in the air.  trying to cool down in vain.

Mario Emmett v.  THE FLESH.   body horror.  factories.  a hunger for something more filling.  never quite happy with how you look.  the terror of an animal waitng for slaughter.  a very good meal.  the liquid of a perfect steak.  fighting your worst survival instincts.  a twisted bone.  long nights working out.  more than one heart.  appearance that shapes like clay.  a bag of bones.  bone broth in a pot.  knowing to fear pigs.  the butcher’s shop.  plastic surgery.  something alien inside your body.  a hunger in the gaze laid upon you.  unwitting cannibalism.  forgetting what you used to look like.  being admired for your appearance and appearance only.  teeth marks on skin.  scars from wounds that should’ve killed you.  cooking in scarcity.  fenced in with one way to go.

Corvus Targaryen vi.  THE END.   the last page of a book.  nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares.  a skeletal hand.  the grip of the grim reaper around your throat.  existential pain.  ivory dice.  flatlining in a hospital.  gambiling with death.  as old as the universe.  soul and spirit tied to an object.  a dream where you die.  closing your eyes for the last time.  the plead of a dying one.  knowing the fate of someone you know and being unable to prevent it.  a thousand cords tugging you towards your end.  skin that’s freezing to the touch.  an act of desperation.  someone’s life for yours.  an eternity spent alive.  the cost of your selfishness.  watching your own burial.  causing your own burial.  the smell of death.  numbness to fear.  words from someone gone.  meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe.  multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

Gavin Turquoise vii.  THE EYE.   googling something you shouldn’t have.  eureka moments.  the unforgiving lens of a camera.  witness reports.  hidden libraries.  eyes of different colours.  feeling of being watched.  a death recorded in tape.  a tragedy you can’t watch away from.  endangering yourself for knowledge.  truth.  analog records.  a symbol of an eye.  a watch tower.  compulsion to document.  turning on recording devices without thinking about it.  saving the evidence before the person.  extracting information.  truth or dare, without the dare.  a thirst for knowledge.  books that speak to you.  coordinated shelves.  cataloguing systems.  voyeurism.  police report you can’t put down.  reasoning your way out.  smell of old papers.  books that read you back.

Sonya, "The Apex" viii. THE HUNT. sharp canines. sore calves after a run. the scent of blood. an adventure for the journey’s sake. the adrenaline right before the kill. a whistle’s echo. the woods. the doe eyes of a prey animal. your own breath in the air. sharpened claws. being tracked. fear of someone knowing your every movement. hunting down monsters. hide & seek. running away only to end up where you started. staying alive purely because the enemy enjoys seeing you run. a set of footsteps behind you. blood dripping from bare hands. barks & growls. focused eyes. a victim going limp under your hands. a mouth full of fresh blood. catching the scent of something monstrous. perfecting your craft. peering into the dark & running after it.

Malcrum Darling ix. THE LONELY. an apartment too small for a double bed. completely vacant streets. waking up to see everyone gone. fog. point nemo. a house too big to hear your family members in. alone in a faceless crowd. a mask with nothing behind it. separated cubicles. a deafening silence where joy should be. a blinding spotlight. the least missed in your friend group. streets without lights in the windows. isolation. not truly knowing your friends. your friends not truly knowing you. need for silence. fear of crowds. staring into space knowing nothing is looking back at you. a ship alone at sea. depression. knowing your friends are better off without you. talking to someone only to realise they’re gone. a family too large to notice you there. safety in being alone.

Azriel x. THE SLAUGHTER. a game of tag. senseless violence. a true crime hobby. improvised weapons. blinding rage. intent to kill. a horrific day in a quiet community. a medal of bravery. holding on to what validates your anger. history books that spare no details. an injury you want revenge for. war. counting kills. songs of soldiers. a knifeblock on the counter. a pool of blood. shellshock. unspeakable horrors. anger pushing you forward. unimaginable pain. not seeing who will hurt you but knowing the pain is coming. a fully human monster. an authority sending its lessers to their deaths. kill or be killed. unedited wartime memoirs. a weapons collection. not knowing the names of who you kill. too many to remember. loss of hope. there’s no heroes in war.

Calvin Dearing xi. THE SPIRAL. sleep deprivation. corridors you can get lost in. maze puzzles that loop back on themselves. losing possessions. losing people. losing your sanity. corkscrew curls. rows of funhouse mirrors. optical illusions. a separate reality. walking through the wrong door. delusions. not knowing what your hands are doing. blank spaces in documents. hallucinations. wrong proportions. a nameless thing. a place that has never existed. doubting your own mind. blind faith. losing track of names, labels, categories. distorted sound. an imperfection in a glass that twists the view. loss of time. a garish colour. doors that open to nowhere. lies. an unnatural laugh. jokes & tricks. illusions. a doorway. a sculptor with a wild imagination. limbs in impossible angles. doing what’s fun, not what’s sensible. fractals you can get lost in.

The Court King xii. THE STRANGER. wax figures. a close approximation of a human face. a borrowed appearance. a strange smell. glass eyes. furs & pelts. a dance. a song of a choir. the uncanny valley. stitching yourself together. the colours of a circus. a puppet with no strings. mannequins. glitter & sequin. a stranger you’ve always known. someone strange in the place of someone you knew. stolen identities. stolen skins. a machine imitating humanity. the anonymity of a service worker. hiding in plain sight. uncomfortable to look at. a faked accent. concealing. forgetting who you are. forgetting who others are. a replacement no one notices. images that look posed. the only one seeing the false face of someone.

Haoyu Anabuki xiii. THE VAST. open spaces. carnival rides going up & down. fear of heights. endless infinity around you. your insignificance in an universe. stomach turning at a drop. fear of not the crash down but the moment you slip. the sway of a cable car. an adventure holiday. losing track of where the surface is. miles & miles of nothing around you. staring at the sky & feeling like you may fall into it. loss of control. a fall that doesn’t end in death. glass floor to the view below. terminal velocity. the sound of wind in your ears. a reach over the railing. a jump from the top of the building. falling into nothing. feeling your feet let go of the ground. a leap of faith. motion sickness.

Zachariah, "The Orchestrator" xiv. THE WEB. undecipherable code. a puppeteer holding the strings. power over the weak—willed. strings of fate. manipulation. an arranged accident. a hundred minions doing your bidding. cobwebs. spiders. a laid trap. never voicing discomfort. outwitting a cheater. doing things without realising it. red string across a corkboard. finding something lost where you were sure you checked. power over the unreliability of chance. watching others dance for you. an entangled death. a thousand tiny legs & fangs. shady forum threads. something important gone missing. suspiciously disregarded case. a missing witness. connections. the world wide web. power of victimhood. gullibility. no control over your own decisions. an invisible leash. mass psychology. a horror film in the making. scapegoat. never remembering to ask for a name.

Urijah Callaghan + THE EXTINCTION. the end of an era. apocalypse movies. the alarms of warning systems. a desolate landscape. end of the world cults. nihilism. the last written history. a changed world. no survivors. old prophecies. a thousand predicted ends. a new chapter. an end with no escape. catastrophes. a calendar counting down. breaking point. overindulgence.

[avaliveradio]

JVLY’s New Single ‘Tacit’ featuring Canadian Singer Una Mey

The power of music to change your mood cannot be underestimated…

Music has the ability to evoke emotions and transport us to different places and times. It can be a source of comfort, motivation, and inspiration. Whether you’re feeling happy, sad, or somewhere in between, listening to music can have a profound effect on your mood.

When we listen to music, our brains release dopamine, a neurotransmitter that helps to regulate our mood and emotions. This is why music can be so effective at boosting our mood and making us feel more positive.

Australian artist JVLY has the kind of music that changes your brain. The music is atmospheric with elements bring ethereal sounds together that inspire focus. The relaxing melodies and captivating movements relax your mind providing a mental escape for the listener.  

JVLY’s new single ‘Tacit’ (feat. Una Mey) has a soothingly uplifting sound that plays well with guest vocalist Canadian artist Una May. Her sound is warm and entrancing. She’s the perfect partner for this talented music creator giving the production a sweetness. Love it. 

Music Review by Jacqueline Jax 

JVLY - Tacit (feat. Una Mey) Music Genre: R&B/Soul, Alt-pop Vibe: happy Located in: Newcastle, Australia Sounds like: Tom Misch, Charlotte Day Wilson, Omar Apollo

JVLY (pronounced “July”) is a project from Australian singer/songwriter/producer Kayle Butler, who has been crafting a unique blend of R&B/Soul music with indie-dance and alternative-pop influences. Kayle has been busy working on a collection of new music which he’ll be sharing with us throughout the year. He kicked thing off last month with a beautifully soulful treat called ‘ambien’ that has since collected over 40k streams on Spotify alone and received airplay on Triple J’s Home & Hosed program. JVLY is coming back to use this week with his next offering which is an elegantly soothing single called ’tacit’ (which means: understood or implied without being stated) that features a special guest appearance from Canadian artist Una May, who also featured on his 2018 single ‘milk&honey’. “tacit’ touches on that strange, unspoken knowing between people. It’s a story of rekindling or reviving something if you look at it directly, but what I found most interesting, and what I was trying to shed light on, is the instance where two humans can have a complete understanding of each other’s thoughts without a single word exchanged. That can’t just be based on history or knowing someone either, because it can happen with strangers, so there’s some sort of inexplicable language that happens with the eyes. It’s wordless but a lot is said and heard. So that’s what this one talks about, and Una and I really wanted the soundscape to capture the feel of that moment of instant understanding.” ~ JVLY

‘tacit (feat. Una Mey)’ is available everywhere now!

Stream:

https://bfan.link/tacit

JVLY:

https://soundcloud.com/jvlyxx

https://www.facebook.com/jvlymusic

https://twitter.com/jvlyxx

https://www.instagram.com/jvlymusic/

https://www.tiktok.com/@jvly___

Una Mey:

https://soundcloud.com/itsunamey

https://www.instagram.com/itsunamey

https://www.facebook.com/itsunamey

https://twitter.com/itsunamey

Credits: Written & Produced by Kayle Butler Guest vocals by Una Mey Mixing & Mastering by Jack Prest Press Photos by Bruno Stefani Artwork by Kayle Butler

[shortyisweird9]

'Lonely ghost serie'

"Babysitting is hard when you ,yourself, are a gremlin, baby"-part V

Tw⚠️: swearing, angsty vibes ( I think)

Your body moved in distress, turning the sheets all over as you left out a gasp of terror, your face clenching in pain. You have a nightmare, a usual occurrence that happens when you are stressed. Having such a big imagination, your dreams/ nightmares came vividly, with excruciating details. You could see them in colour however the images were blurry, hazy almost.

This nightmare was about Fatima, the sketch artist from up top. She was a senior here and usually the person in this block turned for guidance, relief and peace. She was from the South part of Sudan, fact that she lets it known by her traditional style fashion, her food and her drinks and the occasionally loud conversations she has with her folks back home. A peaceful artist with beautiful brown skin with yellow undertones, an oval face with a big smile plastered on it and shinning black orbs. An angel in disguise that you often seek when the world proved too much for you. Fatima never really showed her own worries and fears but you were one of the privileged few who did see her at her lowest, an experience that motivated you , scared you and hurt you. The amount of times your heart clenched those times matched with how many tears left her orbs.

You were ejected vertically on your bottom as your mouth left a silent scream, tears dropping from your eyes but you didn't have time to think it over since loud noises came from upstairs,Fatima's room. In your paranoid state you didn't question the musicality of the sounds ,chosing to ran out the door ,slapping it shut and jumping two steps each time till you reached her door.

Fatima was enjoying her second favourite types of music, Afro-Latina songs when a storms of pounds hit her door. Confused and terrified, she grabbed the nearby mop before she opened the door. It was just you.

You stood there in black shorts made from former leggings to long for your short legs, white ripped shirt stained with old paint from when you helped her renovate and messy long hair and tear filled puffy eyes.

"Y/n! My girl ,what happened?"

There she was, with a long white fit dress that ended in a curve at the start of her feet and silver grey hijab wrapped around her head. She look energised despite being 5 in the mornina Most importantly she was Most importantly, she was safe, unharmed and happy.

Your noise picked up the aroma of her handmade mix of tea that filled the textile of her dressing where now your head rest as your body convulse in a breakdown again. Shocked and confused, she wasn't stopped however from showing you the comfort your soul may need.

She caressed your long hair and rubbed your back as you two sat on the white tiles of the entrance. The door long close by her other roommate, Catherine Blank - a 26 years old from Dublin.

On Fatima's commends, the red haired freckled woman brought you a knitted blanket and a cup of water. Her hands found their way on your cheeks when you finally calmed down,rubbing them on your wet skin as you drank the water. Your eyes fell down in shame for disturbing them.

You didn't know why it happened. Just two hours ago you finished talking with Corpse and went over your notes one last time.

You seemed fine, too busy for any bad thoughts to bug you or anything such as. Yet here you are.

"Jesus ,girl. You scared us." Came the heavy accent voice of Catherine.

You looked at her standing in black leggings and a black top, skinny hands on round hips and a scowl of worry on her square face. Green eyes softening when they met yours.

"I..um..."

"You don't have to tell us right now, sweet girl. Come, let's enjoy each other with some select songs."

You all three burst in laughter at the ridiculous pompous tonality Fatima chose to express herself with.

You followed, grasping the extended hand of Catherine as Fatima rearrange the blanket around your tattoos covered body.

————————————————————

It was morning when you finally return back into your apartment. The door closed itself with a heavy thud that resonated within the insides of your shaky lungs. You calmed down significantly since that explosive outburst of fears and terrors.

You cleaned your eyes as the light of the morning painted you in a sick look: eyes blood shot, red nose, puffy face and pale skin. You looked like you died and came back alive, well maybe a fragment of your sanity died tonight who knows? Your shredded sigh echoed in the empty apartment ,the others already gone to work/university. Essentially you were alone. Again.

You cleaned your eyes as the light of the morning painted you in a sick look: eyes blood shot, red nose, puffy face and pale skin.

You looked like you died and came back alive, well maybe a fragment of your sanity died tonight who knows? Your shredded sigh echoed in the empty apartment ,the others already gone to work/university. Essentially you were alone. Again.

Your soul long desired the touch of another: to be grasp tightly and lovely by their hands, to be enveloped in their smell as they whisper sweet nothings into your ears, to have their warmth dry your tears, to bring comfort to your pain. You resigned years ago that you were never meant to experience this sessions, merely observed them. But your heart craved them and craving it did, as you watched in fake disgust the romantic displays in Ace's romances.

Right now, after crying your eyes out, your burns needed that comfort, needed that care and love but again you were denied of them, you can only thank yourself for that.

The cup was slapped in foolish fury as you tossed some hot water in it. The tea bag falling towards the end of the cup.

Three knocks were heard at the door and you curiously turned, cup left forgotten.

Opening the door, Omar was standing there with a little albino boy with clear big blue eyes and curly locks. He was wearing a red blue and white checkered shirt with beige church pants. He smelled nice ,his cologne hitting your your long narrow nose immediately after opening the door.

You raised a brow as he sheepishly smiled.

"Nice kid."

"Thanks."

Then silence.

You continued drinking your tea,staring at the man who finally realised that you didn't know the motive of his visit.

"Alma didn't tell you?"

"What?"

"She said you agreed to watch over Tj today."

Wait.

Your panicked grew was your eyes turned to the calendar to the right of you. There in bold yellow numbers the day of 5th November was left clear with the exception of being circled over with a gold marker.

"Shit ,it was today? I mean ...fuck. Sorry, Omar. It totally slip my mind."

The man laughed ,his brown eyes were warm and forgiving, no offense taken by your skip of mind.

"It's fine,Y/n. So it's alright if I leave this little guy with you for a bit?"

"Y-Yeah. But I don't have-"

As Omar entered the hallway, a grey bag you previously not seen was by the door , you picked it up before going to the living room.

He sat the kid dressed in a sailor white and navy blue stripped t-shirt and light grey sweatpants on one of the sit of your 1970s floral printed sectional sofa.

The kid was making sounds and hand gestures ,wanting to be picked up again by his father who was busy speaking with the 159cm tall woman.

"Tj here is a big of a love bug, get him to like you and you can't go anywhere anymore. Just like his mother I suppose. "

"Does he have any..um..food preference I should know about?"

"Um...Wait, Alma left you a notebook, ah well not you but me. Here ,it should have anything you will need. Again,thank you so much for doing this Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it." You said ,flipped the pages of the hard back notebook. Luckily Alma had a neat writing.

"Well, I need to go now. Be nice, little guy. "

Omar bent down to kiss his son's forehead, a sign of goodbye. The child stared at his father with a confuse look as he bubbled nonsense. His tiny hand reaching for the leaving figure.

Omar left soon after ,waving bye-bye to his son and almost kissing your forehead as a habit he picked up since he got together with Alma, their form of goodbye.

You stood there, staring at each other as the kid started to laugh and throw his toy at you. You caught it, he will throw it again and so forth.

You were tired however and knew the boy with too much energy will not be easily manipulated into sleeping. Opening the TV to the kid's cartoon channel , you settled on the opposite couch ,eyes falling victim to tiredness.

----------------------------------------------

You must have been asleep 2 hours and so begore the loud crys woke you up.

Crys? Shittt! The kid.

Shooting out of your crouched position, you ignore the stirring pain of your sudden movement. Your legs' thud brought the attention of the crying mop of hair.

A wrenches smell filled your nostrils as your dread grew when you realised where its source came from. Looks like it's time to change a diaper. Oh ,man!

With a mask over your nose, hair tied behind your back and gloves you started changing the boy in the bathroom, you cleaned and washed him and brought him back on the layed blanket on the couch. Your disgust grew as you cleaned the sink and disinfect it.

You groaned as you threw your equipment in the bin, a bing didn't let your stomach cringe at the memory of the smell. It was a message from Corpse.

'Hey :)'

You smiled, quickly texting him back.

'Hey!"

'Up to play something today?'

'A new stream? You just finished one tomorrow, I don't want you to burn yourself out.'

'<3 But no, I mean to play together in private, just the two of us.'

You wanted to text him back, teasing him with the proposition of a date but the sounds of broking glass was heard from the living room.

With a scream , you quickly typed out :' Cant baby in troble.!'

The kid was fine thankfully , grinning and laughing at your panicked state. What was not fine was the white porcelain vase with blue florals Sabrina brought for her collection. She wouldn't be mad per say but she wouldn't be happy either.

The kid ,now standing to ran around the room ,using the coffee table to his advantage, your legs screaming from the workout. Luckily the broken vase was behind you away from the child.

Unfortunately, your phone started to ring. Who the fuck would call me now? Oh! It's Corpse. Wait..Corpse!

"H-hey Corpse ! What are you - come here you little block of swiss cheese."

The man laughed as the phone's speaker vibrated on your right ear where you lodged it.

Tj laughed innocently as you grabbed him and hold him to your left hip. Your hair,nerves and mood all a mess.

"A-Are you okay?" Corpse asked after recovering from the fit of laughter.

"Me? Oh ,sure. I have a gremlin here who's more trouble than his worth. Hey! Stop that!"

The happy face of Tj turned in a cringy crying one as he wailed. Apparently you wanting to stop him chewing on your white banda, tightly nicely on the top of your head ,was too much.

"Sounds like trouble. By the way, you called me?"

"I did?"

Your eyebrows clenched as you look at your calls history,you did actually. The icon of the call must have been press on accident or that it was a sign from the universe that you are in dire need of assistance.

"Y-yeah. Look, Corpse l-I gotta go. I will call you-"

And you stopped, your breath becoming more fast as your nose flared.

"Um ghost? Are you...Are you there?"

"Stay on the line,Corpse. This kid just pissed on me."

With that another wave of laughter hit the man as he thrown himself into the chair.

----------------------------------------------

Finally, you changed the damn brat after cleaning him again and taking a shower yourself. You left a breath as you watched the chil playing with his blue rocket toy.

"Babysitting is much harder than the films makes it out to be." You grumbled, pouting as you listened to Corpse's chuckles.

They managed to calm you enough to turn the intimidating glare you had plastered all over your face into a more stern one.

Your body dressed in a clean pair of white jeans short, black tank top and blue checkered shirt over, leaned on the frame of the door. You were waiting for the milk to heat up, luckily the boy was only a month away from being an year old so you could give him cow milk without worrying.

"Babysitting is hard when you ,yourself, are a gremlin, baby." He said ,his voice making you visibly tingle.

You sighed, placing the phone near the wooden bread box and grabbing a cup. By now the milk should have warmed up.

"Um...goofball?"

"Yes,Corpse?"

"You...you are not wearing your voice changer. I..I am sorry, I should have told you from the start but I like the s-sound of it ,I didn't want it to stop."

You could hear the beads of his bracelets as he played with them, nervously waiting for your response.

"I-It's okay, Corpse. You don't need to be sorry."

You swallowed, this day really came for your neck. Your eyes stung as you fight them off, no reason to make Corpse's day shittier by being pathetic.

"You are not fine ,are you goofball?"

The kind and worried tone of this wonderful individual you became to take a liking of was enough to cause everything in you to break loose.

"N-No ,it's not. Everything been so fucking stressful and I-I don't know what to do Corpse. I try my might to fight these thoughts but everytime they resurface stronger and more disturbing. I can't keep them in control, Corpse. I just CAN'T. A-And I keep worrying about losing all: my friends, my belongings and my family. I feel like I will drive them away especially if I can't bring my share to the table. I don't even know why I tell you these to be honest, I don't want to scare you away but in the same time I ... FUCK!"

Your fists hit the table you been resting on hard , scaring the child in the living room. His cries only angered you more.

"Ghost. Ghost! Ghost! Gho-"

"WHAT?"

You instantly regretted shouting at him,stopping from your pacing too.

"Calm down,buttercup. I know how you feel and going down a warpath or an abyss of sorrows ain't the answer. Come, let me help. "

"You still want to?" Your voice came out timidly and shying away in fear, shielding your eyes in shame despite him having no possible way of seeing your face.

"Of course, you goof. Now let's see what we do with that kid."

You swiped a tear out of your right eyes ,smiling and nodding before remembering he couldn't see, just hear you. That made you more anxious now that you realised that he knows a close guarded information.

————————————————————

A smile ran down your face as you watched the child all wrapped up in his dark blue blanket struggle to jeep his bright eyes opened as his ears and energy were captured by Corpse's singing. It's was a lullaby about moon and love, being in Spanish you only understood unfortunately the words close to your mother language.

You almost lost yourself to the gentle hums , stringing of a guitar and over all wholesome cozy atmosphere when loud voices and thumbs came from the apartment near Fatima's.

An idiot called Tudor who plays the bass part in Sergiu's band lived there, he and his boyfriend Micah. Two assholes who had a bone to pick with everyone, well more like Tudor had ,Micah was a follower.

The sense of protection enveloped you as you caressed the child's hair and kiss his right temple, letting him with Corpse to fall asleep.

Your grey flippers cracked against the stone stairs harshly and quickly. Your glare being as cold as the staircase room.

You knocked furiously on the door, hurting your hands by the metal indentations carved into the door. Your ears picked up footsteps approaching the door in a lazy manner, the two making jokes about what kind of bitch could be bothering them.

The smirk on his long face vanished when his pale blue eyes meet your fiery dark ones. He puffed a lock of dirty blond hair , saluting you in a cocky but intimidated manner :

"I wonder why the Red Riding Hood is paying us a visit? What do you think ,Micah?"

He leaned back to let his dark skinned boyfriend take a look at you. His eyes showed fear but he continued the masquerade in order to please his scumbag of a lover.

"I don't know, babe. Maybe she wants a threesome."

Tudor laughed like then pig he is, Micah lipped an apology to you, his black gems cowering in shame.

Micah wasn't a bad man , he was just naive and a people's pleaser, with no sense of stern morals but even awareness to know he is the wrong. You never understood why he wasted his breath by staying at the side of this buffoon of a dude. You ignored his half-cocked insults, knowing they didn't really had a backbone to them.

"I will appreciate if you could tone it down a little. No one needs to know you two are making a sex tape."

This seemed to anger the taller white as mayonnaise man who dismissed his boyfriend with a wave of his painted hand and moved forward to you. The red door of his apartment shutting up with an echo.

You two glared at each other, not one of the other backing down. Your breath was forcefully calmed down by your anger , last thing you needed is for him to know he was affecting you by coming too close. Your hands shook in their tight grip and you were pleased you cut your nails earlier.

"Just because Sergiu lets you come with us when we play, doesn't mean you and I are friends. Got it, girly?"

His rough tone only displeased you.

"And just because you can string two cords and not sound like a dying cat doesn't mean you are a great singer either, buddy."

"Fuck you." He said that to you in a clasped breath, his teeth biting on his lower lip as his face appeared more furious.

If this motherfucker puts his hands on me ,I swear I will...

"Y/N? Y/N!"

It was Sergiu.

The man in a punk style leather jacket ran quickly up the stairs, his armored black boots clicking away.

His face was twisted into a fearing expression before turning into a more pissed off one. He knew of Tudor's dislike towards you and knew that the both of you won't hold back if this turns physical. He needed to be smart about this.

"Man, come on. Leave her alone."

He moved to come between you ,Tudor's movement of hand stopped him.

"Nah,man. This bitch thinks she come here like she owns the fucking place and tell me what to do? I am sorry, princess, but you got another thing going. "

"TUDOR ISAAC POPESCU!"

A female voice caused his blood to ran cold and you to smirk.

Behind Sergiu, a petite woman in her mid fifties glared at him. Her greying hair caught in a bun,her olive wrinkled face was in a madden frown as her blue eyes shield by fuchsia framed glasses stared at him. The madame in green suit pants and white and black blouse was his mother.

His mother, a teacher at your University, was a lioness of a woman, never detour from the right path of doing things and more importantly never afraid to tear down anyone if they being dickish. Not even her loved son.

Sergiu grabbed gently you without a word as you two left the mother and son quarrel in peace, a part of you already starting to feel bad. You hate when you argued with someone but your anger sometimes got the better of you. Today truly has been an exhausting day.

————————————————————

You are in your room,Corpse still on the phone with you. You already explained what happened and know you enjoyed just talking with him about everything and nothing at the same time,trying to not fall asleep for how calming his voice was.

"You sure you don't want me to end the call. You must be tired from all the noises. "

You stirred, cleaning the droll of your left wnd of your lips. Your head ache as you saw that night has befallen.

"Wh-What?"

"Goofball,I was talking if you wanted me to let you rest but you already beat me to it."

"T-Tj?"

"Your friends said they will take care of them. They were so surprised to find me singing to him, though."

"Ah,shit. Sorry Corpse."

"Nothing to be sorry about, pumpkin. "

"Pumpkin, seriously?" You asked ,snuggling back into the comforter.

"Yeah, why not? The fall season is still up for a month or so."

"Hmm, I prefer goofball better."

"If you say so, princess. You *yawn* you sure you don't want me to let you sleep?"

A panick arised into your soul as you quickly told him no.

"P-Please stay."

"A-Alright."

He began to continue the story one of his subscribers send him as your eyes shut. A smile on your lips at last.

————————————————————

Hey,guys!💖

Hope you enjoyed the fifth part of the serie. It was a roller coaster to write.

Anyway, stay safe!💗

Tagged💖:@moolujk @magenta-skyline @yikesyikesyikes95 @simonsbluee @cherry-piee @yoyoanaria @gaysludge @mythicalamphitrite

[kiki-is-writing]

the beginning and end of everything UPDATE!!!

DISCLAIMER: This is my original work. I choose to share my work here and here specifically for my comrades in the writing community. Plagiarism in any form will not be tolerated. 

HI EVERYONE! I FINISHED MY NOVEL! Whooo hoooo!!!

It’s actually sort of surreal, I started it in June of 2020 and now it’s 2021 and it’s over! Ty, Jude, Ada, Dorothy, and Madison have been living in my head since October 2019, and less than a year and a half later, they’ve been brought to life! Crazy!!

A summary in case you forgot/are seeing this and don’t know who the hell I am:

Ty Kassisieh has no direction. He’s just graduated college with a degree he doesn’t care about and no clue what to do with his life. Per his parent’s request to be more like his genius twin sister Ada, he picks up a job at a local library to save some money. There, he meets his coworker Jude, who’s stuck in a position not too far from his own, and Ty immediately sees the potential for companionship. But after speaking to him, Ty discovers Jude is everything he isn’t: he’s cold, introverted, aloof, and worst of all, humorless. Soon, Ty forgets all about his initial goal and becomes determined to crack Jude and see what makes him tick. 

Ty’s journey of self-discovery is uprooted completely as what begins as an investigation blossoms into a friendship, and then into something more. Ty is forced to confront the feelings he’s been pushing down since high school and come to terms with himself, his family, and the relationships he thought would never change. It’s only when he befriends a young library patron, Madison, that he finally begins to see the world for what it is and figures out how to pave his own path.

Here are some stats!

Word count: 65,900 (it’ll get at least 20k words longer)

Genre: Romantic comedy

POV: third person limited, present tense

Characters: Ty, Jude, Ada, Madison, Dorothy, Diane, Omar, Paul, Uncle Hubie, Ethel

Chapters: 15

Font: Times New Roman (sorry)

This was my second novel, but the first novel where I actually knew what I was doing, at least a little bit. And holy shit, I learned SO much about my writing process:

1. I cannot pants for the life of me. I have no idea what I’m doing without an outline. But sometimes, the outline doesn’t know best. I added a ton of subplots and off-the-cuff scenes halfway through that have no set up, gave up on subplots that weren’t working halfway through, it’s a disaster of a plot. BUt the important thing is that I know how to make it perfect. I know what the story needs and how to get that.

2. Why can I only write in bursts? I wrote like seven chapters, half the novel, in the month of July. There was a day where I wrote almost 5,000 words. And last night, I wrote for 6 hours straight, without eating, drinking, or going to the bathroom (because frankly, I forgot those things existed) and I cranked out a chapter and a half in a DAY. I had such a headache and was very hungry by the end, but it was SO REWARDING. 

3. I noticed while drafting is how often bits of my real life bled through. Little anecdotes, arguments, dynamics and experiences. Those who know me particularly well can probably pick out little allusions to either some of my past works, my friends, and myself.

It was 1:00 AM when I finished, and I live on the east coast of the U.S. so we’d just had a huge Nor’easter (New England for blizzard) and I went outside in the middle of the night, in my pajama pants and my uggs, and stood in my backyard and looked at the trees and processed the fact that wow, I just wrote a novel. It was cathartic and beautiful and I 110% recommend standing in snow up to your knees by yourself in the middle of the night. Very peaceful. 

As exciting as it is to be done, it’s kind of weird to be ending it. I started this novel from Ty’s first person POV, and he was just kind of another goofy, dorky character that shared my own sense of humor as well as my sense of perfectionism. But as I wrote, not only did I realize that third person worked so much better, but I started realizing how much of me and my own journey as a queer person had gone into this. It turned from a light-hearted, silly rom-com with little depth, a fun summer project to keep myself busy, to the most self expressive story I’ve ever written. I didn’t expect it to come out with much deeper meaning, it was summer and I was on a light-hearted rom-com kick, and life was carefree and silly and I wanted a book that reflected it. And then, school started, and life just descended into absolute chaos, and it was November, and it was NaNoWriMo, and I was writing my novel while watching CNN for a week straight. (But it all turned out great! New president!)

I can’t remember exactly when I started to incorporate my own struggles growing up as a queer kid, but somehow they bled through in the second half. The last scene of the book is (no spoilers) an incredible breath of fresh air for Ty. It’s something I can only wish for every queer teenager, that moment where you can finally be unapologetically and authentically queer without that nagging worry in the back of your mind. I’ve struggled over this past year with my identity, and as Ty found his place, I found mine as well. 

Seriously, writing this book was one of the best experiences I’ve had. Yes, the entire time I had a separate document open, writing down every little thing that needs to change, but I legitimately feel excited for draft 2 and continuing working on this project. I think about how much this book helped me, unconsciously creating the story that I needed to hear, and how maybe, in ten, fifteen years, some queer teenager will be wandering around a bookstore and pick up The Beginning and End of Everything. Maybe just because the cover is pretty. Maybe they like the F. Scott Fitzgerald reference in the title. Maybe they heard about it on Twitter somewhere. But they pick it up, and see themselves in Ty, or in Jude, or in Madison. I know every book that gave me that feeling, I cherish them so deeply, and all I really want is for someone to get that feeling from something I wrote. To see themselves in the pages and know they’re not alone. It’s cheesy, but it’s true, and it’s important. 

I think one of my favorite themes in the novel is the whole ‘someone’s got your back’ thing. I 100% did not mean for it to go in the way it did, but I was writing this as I was going through some Stuff, some stuff in which I realized that having someone, just one person in your corner can mean the entire world, if only for that moment. And if there’s no one in your corner when you need it, you can be in someone else’s when they need it. Frankly, I love how it plays out throughout the novel. There was always that theme of Ty and Madison sort of being there for each other, but as I found myself in the first semester of the school year building new friendships with incredible, smart, funny people (albeit most of that being online) and strengthening old bonds, it worked its way in, and it fits perfectly. It adds depth and strength to the story I couldn’t have done consciously. 

Essentially, it is still the romantic comedy I intended it to be, but it’s also a coming-of-age (except much older than the traditional coming-of-age). Watching some of my close friends and family graduating college and continuing to struggle with their identities and places in the world I think is what truly carved out this idea. Because not everyone has everything figured out as soon as they graduate, and I feel like, as a teenager, that’s something my friends and I really need to get through our heads. A lot of us expect to have everything figured out as soon as we turn 18. But, we’re 18. There’s a lot of life ahead of us, and we can’t possibly know what we’re going to do so young. So I think that was my main source of inspiration for this novel, and I’m really proud of the way that fleshed out. Of course it needs lots and lots of work, but. I like it. The way my personal life bled through and strengthened the story is incredible to reflect on. Honestly, I really, truly, cannot wait to start working on draft 2.

taglist:

@alicewestwater @august-iswriting @lottieiswriting @phiwrites @jennawritesstories @chloeswords

[scullyy]

Birthday Boy

Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: It's AJs' birthday! The kids have gathered around for another rockin' hootenanny!

A/N: brUH I’ve been working on this for agesssss and it’s finally dooooneeeeee ~~and it’s still not my best but I TRIED and perfection doesn’t eXIST-~~ it’s a VERY belated birthday gift for @bluebutterfly1 cause she’s been wanting this foREVER. SHE'S AMAZING OKAY-

so yeah this is based off a deleted scene from TFS where it was AJ’s birthday and what not anyways ily and enjoy x

-

It was hard being a kid sometimes, not having the words to describe how you're feeling, not even knowing what it is you are feeling was also a bummer. AJ had hoped he would know when he got older, especially by Clem's age. He would know so many more words and feelings and extra stuff about the world. He had already learned so much just from Aasims' teachings.

But Aasim hadn't taught him why everyone was giving him strange looks this one particular winter morning.

Clem was the first, she wasn't as good of a liar as she thought she was. There was this...odd smile on her face. AJ recognised it as the same smile Louis makes whenever he tries to get out of trouble. Ruby, Violet and Aasim had immediately zoomed off into the school once breakfast was done, only running out to share little whispers with Clementine. Omar was cooking something in his special big pot, more focused than AJ had ever seen, but he refused to tell the kid what it was.

He hadn't even seen Louis! Not even during breakfast! The only other person outside was Willy, still stationed at the watchtower. AJ's curious mind and talkative nature tried to squeeze as much info out of the young boy, but he was able to keep his mouth shut for once.

It all led him to sit beside Clementine in an unusual silence for the two, one that didn't sneak past her. Nothing AJ did - or in this case, didn't - could slip by her radar. "Why the long face kiddo?" Clem bumped her elbow into his shoulder, attempting to steal his attention.

AJ picked at a speck of dry skin on his hand, sporting a very obvious pout. "Did I do something wrong?"

That caught her off guard. Her leg trembled from both the cold and her deeply-bundled nerves. Keeping a secret, especially one she knew AJ was going to love, was tougher than she thought. "What makes you think that?" Her eyes moved rapidly from AJ and the school doors, keeping her crossed fingers hidden beneath her thigh. The other kids better be done soon...

"No one is talking to me. Like when I shot Marlon and everyone got mad at me. I didn't like that and I don't like this." He kicked at the air, his little legs still too short to touch the ground.

"I'm sure everything is fine-"

As her hand reached out to hold him, he pulled himself away, jumping straight to his feet. "Don't say that! I know you're lying!"

His desperation near broke her heart. She could never say no to his cute face, damn him. Heaving a sigh of defeat, she gave in. "Okay fine, follow me." The other kids would surely be pissed at her for letting on too early, but she would rather that than an upset AJ.

And boy did that remove the frown from his face. He bounded around her as she got her crutches in order, kicking up sparkling snow behind him. "Where are we going?"

"The music room-"

The young boy had bolted off before she could finish, reminding her of another young boy she used to know when this all started. "Slow down, kiddo! You're not the one on crutches!"

His eagerness outweighed Clem's command, which was usually his law. He could hear muted talking from within Louis' music room, a few giggles here and there too. He crept closer to the door, utilising his amazing ninja skills. His tiny hand gripped the tinier doorknob, opening the door just a crack to find...huh?

The doorknob was set free from his hand, which had now fallen loosely by his side as he took one quiet step into the room. "What's this?" AJ disturbed the other kids, finding them in compromising positions. Louis was on his very tip-toes, tying some blue tinsel around the fireplace, Aasim and Ruby were lighting the last of the candles as Violet was gently moving the gramophone back into it's original place.

It was a real life record scratch moment.

"Oh shit," Louis broke the silence first, drawing everyone's line of sight to the intruder. He chucked the last of the tinsel up onto the mantle in a careless manner before throwing his hands into the air. "Happy birthday AJ!"

The other kids all dropped what they were doing, raising their hands in line with Louis. "Happy birthday!"

Said child stood there with his mouth hung wide open, taking in the sight. "What?" It was the only word racing through his mind.

Louis kneeled down to his level, sporting one of the biggest smiles AJ had ever seen. "It's your birthday little dude, gotta celebrate it big time."

"My...birthday?" Whatwhatwhatwhatwhat-

Willy tugged on the thick tinsel that ran from the fireplace to Louis' piano. "We managed to scrounge up some decorations from the drama class."

"And we re-used the banner from the party back when these guys got kidnapped." Ruby pointed to the banner above the doorway. The original message 'We're getting them back' had been scribbled out and somehow replaced with 'Happy birthday Alvin Junior'.

AJ spun around, his eyes bouncing between all the bright decor; the flickering candles, the weird fuzzy stuff on the piano, it was all so new. "You did this..for me?"

A slightly puffed Clementine finally made her way into the room, smiling with pure glee at how well her friends decorated the space. She stood beside her boy, trying to decipher what he was feeling. "What do you think AJ?"

"It's awesome!" He threw his hands up into the air.

Louis looked between his friends, all of them sharing evil little smiles. "So, who wants to go first?"

"First in what?" AJ questioned, nearly vibrating at wondering what else they could have planned.

Clementine gently nudged him forward with her crutch, pushing him into the centre of the room. "Gift-giving."

"Gifts?" He continued to question. So much new knowledge in such a short span of time.

Louis dead-panned, merely wanting the festivities to begin. "If you keep asking questions we're going to be here all day. Of course, we got you gifts! It's a thing you give someone to show appreciation or celebrate, and today little dude we're celebrating you."

"I'll go first since my gift is the coolest," Violet was guided over to AJ by Ruby, her smile never wavering. From behind her back she presented a roll up parchment, the corners slightly ripped.

AJ pulled it open and blinked rapidly, taking in the faded faces and text. "Green Day? What's that mean?"

"They were a really cool band, before everything happened," Violet nodded to the outside world. "I figured you could hang it up in your room. If I ever find one of their records, you'll be the first to listen, little man." Slowly guiding her hand to the curve of his shoulder, she gave him a gentle punch.

AJ was still hung up on why a day would be green but appreciated the thought from Violet nonetheless. "They look cool...but what's on their eyes?"

Green Day was a rare source of joy from Violet's sordid childhood, a fleating sense of nostalgia washed over her as she came to realise it'll do the same for him.

Ruby skipped closer to AJ once Violet took a seat on the piano stool, thankful that she got to go next. "I figured since you've become an A+ gardener, you could have this little guy," She brandished from behind her back a small pot, with an even smaller plant inside. "If you take good care of it, he'll grow big and strong."

"Just like me!" AJ was near bursting at the seams; the flower was rather dainty, small and barely purple, yet ready to flourish.

She gently pinched his cheek, gushing openly. "Just like you," Ruby bounced away on her feet, feeling another sense of pride at impressing the tot. She patted Aasim on the back, which turned more into a push when he didn't catch onto her actions. "C'mon, it's your turn now!"

Aasim shuffled over, not bothering to hide his gift. He cleared his throat before passing it to AJ. "Here dude," In his grasp laid a tightly bound book, his name carved into the leather cover. His precious journal that he guarded so dearly the night they first met.

AJ took it gently, treating the book as if it were made of glass. "But it's yours?" He questioned, remembering their first encounter. How times had changed.

Aasim shrugged, unsure of what to say. Dammit, he had this all planned out beforehand! "It's ours. Think of it as 'Ericson's History Volume One', you can finish it off if you like."

"This is cool, I hope I can write as good as you." AJ was so captured by his friend's neat handwriting, he didn't notice Aasims' sincere smile.

"My turn!" Willy yelled, pushing Aasim out of the way in the process. His gift was the only wrapped one, albeit it was wrapped in old textbook pages. A tear in the paper revealed a small piece of wood shining through. "It's a slingshot! Mitch and I used to hit walkers with them all day, now we can!"

AJ hadn't even finished tearing the paper away, but his heart still soared. "That's cool, I wish Mitch was here." He added quietly.

Willy lowered his head, gently fidgeting with his own fingers. "Me too."

Their friend's passing left a forever space in every room, an unnerving emptiness that will never go away.

"Okay Willy, my turn," Omar butted in, wanting to steer the conversation back to the joy. He handed AJ a wooden spoon with a neat little bow wrapped around the handle. "It's my best spoon. You can use it to help me cook dinner tonight."

Louis whipped his head to Omar, shooting daggers from his eyes. "You never let anyone help!"

Omar kept a strong smile as he turned to his friend, unphased. "No, I don't let you help because unlike you the kid actually listens to instructions."

"I listen, just like to take a more...casual approach to cooking." He shrugged, finding a sudden interest in his shoes.

"If by casual you mean undercooking the fish, then sure."

Louis poked his tongue out at his friend before sauntering over to AJ, ready to present the greatest gift of all fucking time. "I figured it's time for an upgrade, say goodbye to that crusty knife," Louis whipped out a small bar stool from behind him, holding it out in front of the boy.  "I present...Stoolio! Get it? Cause it's a stool."

"Nope!" AJ beamed brighter than Clem had ever seen, despite the joke flying way over his head. Louis just had that effect on people. The stool was heavier than it seemed, as it immediately hit the floor when AJ took ahold of it. The faded wood declaring the weapons' age, AJ traced the deep cracks with his fingers. "I think I'll call it CJ, Chairles Junior, like my name."

"That's a much better name. It's strong like you too. It defeats monsters, protects people and looks super cool." He purred, selling the gift as only the best of the best.

AJ looked between his new weapon and Louis, letting the weight of it settle in his small palms. It was stronger than his little knife, though not as easy to hold as his gun. But if Louis could do it, so could he. "Sounds more like you."

Clementine noticed the hitch in Louis' breath, both their hearts thumping from the young boys' sentiment. Louis could feel his heart slip up into his throat, thumping faster than his breathing could keep up. "Uh, wow, thank you. It's both of us."

If only AJ was aware of how much his statement meant to Louis, how he would hold onto it during his weakest hours. If that kid could believe in him, he must be doing something right.

Louis cleared his throat, choking back a quiet sob as his heart settled back down. "There's one final surprise, from all of us." He hopped over to a box beside the ladder, dragging Omar over with him.

The boys reached into the box and began to lift something of great weight, as they struggled to keep a tight grip. "Just don't ask how we got it." Omar heaved, forgetting just how little muscle he truly had.

From the box emeregd something AJ could only imagine in his wildest daydreams. A...giant...Disco Broccoli!

The tot stood in pure disbelief, his jaw hanging wide open. "Is that-"

"Oh hell yeah it is," Louis sneered, maybe just a little more excited than AJ.

The boys set it down besides the dusty fireplace, with Omar wiping his brow. "You like it?"

AJ wandered closer, getting a better look. It was certainly Disco Broccoli, despite there being a hole in his cartoon hand. He had the cool glasses and everything! But he looked...funny. "What...what is it?"

Louis clasped the tots' shoulder, it was always a fun venture showing him something from the old world. Seeing the wonder in his wide eyes, made the hassle Louis went through to get the damn thing worth it. "It's a pinata, bro! You hit it and stuff is supposed to come out."

Omar tapped the side of the pinata, being greeted by a soft echo. "There's nothing in it, but it's still fun to hit."

"You can use Chairles Junior there." Louis was nearly bouncing at the idea as he handed the stool leg to the birthday boy, ready for the absolute carnage he was about to witness.

AJ gripped his new(ish) weapon tightly, eyeing down the funny looking Disco Broccoli. "Awesome."

Clem watched from the piano as AJ tried to lift the stool above his head, nearly tipping over from its' weight. Her thoughts drifted to a dream she had, Lees' words at the forefront of her thoughts. "Wanting to give him a childhood, but knowing what it takes for him to survive."

"You okay, Clem?" Louis bumped his shoulder with hers, breaking her away from her memories.

Nodding slightly, Clementine hoped he couldn't notice the tears in her eyes. "Yeah, thanks for this. It's amazing."

"No problemo, it's good to see him smile."

Clem continued to watch AJ laughing with his friends, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "He's been doing that a lot since we've arrived here."

Louis continued to gaze at her, despite her not noticing. "You both have."

-

Just as it had always been, Clem and AJ sat side by side together on the steps of the courtyard, appreciating the rare beauty of the sunset. The sky a gallery of purely blue and purple. Clem disrupted the silence first, after having spent a lengthy amount of time remembering Rebecca and Alvin, wondering if they would be proud of their young boy. "Can I admit something?"

AJ curiously turned to her, awaiting with an eager tap in his foot.

"I don't actually know if today is your birthday," She pouted. "I know it's at the start of winter, but that's it. There were no calendars, no way to check the date. I just kinda had to guess every year. I also don't know how old you actually are." If she had to guess, either six or seven. Without access to a calendar, all these years trying to keep track of the fleeting months grew tiresome and redundant. Each day was the same, a date made no difference. Hell, she wasn't even sure of her own age anymore.

"Maybe I'm a thousand years old!" He bounced like the truly giddy child he was.

Clem laughed openly into the chilly air. "Sure thing, Grandpa." She pushed at his shoulder before looking back at the sky, knowing deep within her gut that Alvin and Rebecca were smiling with her.

They remained in a balanced silence for a while, until AJ turned back to her. "I don't think it matters. I get bigger and stronger every day, no matter how old I am I'll always protect us."

Clementine wrapped her arm around him, pulling him in close the same way she always had and the same way she always will. "I know you will, forever," She pressed a firm kiss to the top of his head, smiling into his thick hair. "Wanna know what we're having for dinner?"

"What?"

"Beans with apple slices."

"BEANS!"

[kazbrkker]

Chapter 9: A Witness and Witless

Chapter summary: A realisation for Alexis, kindly dished by Captain Price. Meanwhile, danger is the gift that keeps on giving. (3284 words).

Warnings: N/A. 

29 October 2019, 0500 "Alexis" and "Alex" | Codename Aces CIA with SAS and Urzik militia Sakhra, Urzikstan

   Having her forehead split open had its benefit. Okay, maybe that was arguable, but Alexis was mildly grateful that the unbearable stings stirred her awake. It saved from her reliving a gauche situation: sleeping limbs entangled with her best friend, who she almost kissed, again.

They were practically squashed together, her head pillowed against his firm chest. Seeing how paranoid and sharp to his surroundings Alex was, his iron grips were challenging to snake out of it, good thing she had practice.

Here, at 5 am, while others were desperately chasing some sleep, Alexis was too engrossed in her own thoughts. The past 24 hours happened like a flash, and the Wolf was her highlight, making her fidget uncomfortably just at the thought.

You should have fought harder, been stronger, not falter at his baseless threats. Alexis had no one but herself to blame for allowing the Wolf to escape. The guilt her mistake carried fuelled the fire inside her, with revenge as additional gasoline to the mix.

The Chinese had a saying: "for what you do upon me, I'd unleash it ten times worse." Omar Sulaman would regret ever threatening her.

Seeking refuge under a dying tree at the residence's courtyard, she brooded in reflection. At least she figured out an end goal for the Wolf, but the friendship between Alex and her was shaky, at best. Alexis released an exhale of pent-up frustration, fingers weaving her chocolate locks into a braid. So immersed with overthinking, she almost failed to catch Price's approaching footsteps.

"No rest for the wicked, eh?" He arched a concerned brow at her stitches.

Alexis cracked a smile, "'Course." Patting beside her, she gestured for Price to take a seat with her on the patch of dried grass. "Please, don't be a nanny. Just sit down."

"Fantastic. I'm in no mood for that either," Price replied. His face briefly caught silvers of golden rays, accentuating the eye bags and fine lines that revealed just how much Price had aged since their last encounter. Even without the combat vest, his broad shoulders remained permanently slouched.

Alexis smelled smoke before the wisps floated past her. Witnessing how it relaxed Price, she shuts her mouth. "Something wrong?" she guessed, feeling the passing smoke layer her tongue with a woody fragrance, suddenly feeling the need to spit.

"The Butcher... Bastard didn't even spare a kid." Price took another deep inhale.

Alexis sighed, "We'll make him pay."

"Damn right." The price of war was a hefty one. And Alexis idolised John Price for his unwavering tenacity. By far, he was the most unbreakable person she'd ever met.

"So..." Alexis steered the topic, "What cover story did you tell Maddox and Forbes this time?"

Price scoffed lightly, a light-hearted undertone in his words, "Ah, I didn't bother. Bloody bitch about it, is all they do." Though Price, Maddox and Forbes all knew each other, Alexis always questioned what kind of Doomsday loomed over the world for a SAS Captain, Task Force Black's commander and a CIA handler to cross paths. Candidly, it made her excited to know why.

"Something going on between you and Alex?" Price questioned abruptly.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She confidently lied, ignoring the tingling sensation on her lips.

"For your sake, I hope you lie better when you're on the job," he mocked. Did she develop a tell? How did Price always know?

"Ah, it's just a bunch of gossips, don't feed into it."

"It's a reliable source," that piqued her curiosity.

"Kyle," she deadpanned, twisting her body towards Price. "Call MacTavish, I'm gonna skin Kyle alive."

Price hummed, giving her an amused look, "That'd be a waste of talent. So it's true, you two dating?"

She didn't even know the answer herself, so she replied with something safe, "We're friends, always have been." Her gaze averted to the small wildflowers blossoming under the base of the tree she leaned on. Chrysanthemums, its deep red petals swaying gently against the wind currents, almost like a greeting wave. Alexis scratched her head at the timely symbolism.

"Don't get stupid, you know better than most that nothing lasts forever," Price chided with a distant look in his eyes. "That boy looks at you like there isn't a war waging on."

Alexis sighed, twirling the stalks of red chrysanthemum hesitantly, "That's the problem. Wars are happening, it's selfish."

The Captain huffed almost disappointedly, "There's always a war. You see something you want, you best hold onto it before something blows it up."

"Shouldn't you advise me against fraternisation, Captain?" She smiled.

Staggered smokes escaped when Price let out a short laugh, "Whoever tries to boss you around is an idiot. Do I look like one?"

"No, no you're not," she chuckled, always finding wisdom in Price's words. So when he told her the way Alex looked at her wasn't platonic, she believed him. Not like it was unbelievable or anything. The way he tirelessly searched for her in a crowd every few moments—then smile when their gaze meets. With ample practices over the years, she'd successfully ignored how much he burned her insides with a simple look.

Now, maybe she didn't need to.

Alexis was always more of a spy than a soldier—at least, that was what Maddox always said about her. A natural God instinct to read the room, practically able to smell the changes like a bloodhound. Yet she was slow to pick up on the change in their friendship.

Slow, and a little reluctant. Now that she opened the floodgates that she guarded for so long, every possible feeling punched their way to her heart.

She was still in love with Alex. A chilling sensation ran over her spine when she inwardly admitted that. It puzzled her if it was relief or nerves? Either way, it jolted a new kind of excitement in her. Every exhale felt lighter.

"And what about you and Laswell?" Alexis retorted smugly, enjoying the rare stunned expression that slipped onto her mentor's face. "C'mon, give me some credit. The most impressive agent you've ever come across, right? I read your debrief about me from the Caucasus mission."

At his threatening frown, she held up surrendering hands, "Alright, alright! I'm done here."

Price ignored her teases, stubbing out his cigar at the base of the tree. "The Caucasus... That's what, 7 years ago? You just made JSOC back then."

Alexis cackled at the memory, "Back then you didn't have this glorious moustache. Remember when I pulled a knife on Mactavish?"

"Scared the lad shitless. Didn't show it, but sure as well saw it," Price continued, a smirk present on his face.

"I sure as hell felt it. Mactavish's pulse was jumping." Then she paused, realising Price purposely dodged her questions. So she tried again, "Don't avoid my questions, I'm a great matchmaker!"

He shot her a look, "Says the oblivious fool."

"Touche. But still-"

Luckily, Hadir spotted them, sliding open the residence's glass door and jogged up to them. "Oh, Hadir! Thank goodness you're here, Price was about to murder me."

Hadir squinted in confusion. "Ignore her," Price got to his feet and dusted the grass off his camo pants, sending the gleeful agent a hard glare. "Lass hit her head too hard, she's spewing rubbish. Careful, Hadir." He patted Hadir's back and started to head back to the house.

"C'mon mate!" Alexis yelled after him with a butchered English accent. "I said I'm sorry!" She laughed at Price's slightly gapped mouth.

"Did I mention?" His hands steadied against the sliding door, "You're benched!"

With that, Price slid the glass door closed, wearing an amused expression as she yelled pleads after him with no avail. "Petty old fellow."

Hadir sat on Price's previous spot, gracing her with a chocolate bar. Unlike commercial ones, military chocolate hardly tasted edible—for somebody who hated chocolates, it was a torture to sink her teeth into the hard cocoa blocks. "Hadir, you couldn't find anything else?"

"It's chocolate!"

"You think."

His enthusiasm didn't die down as he chowed down his own energy bar, but after a few chews, Hadir promptly stuck out his tongue in disgust, earning a burst of hearty laughter from Alexis, "People eat this?"

"Dumb soldiers do. But the smart ones..." Alexis pulled out a packet of biscuits from the side pocket of her pants, wiggling in front of Hadir. She snatched the cup of hot water from him and dunked the biscuits in, much to his protests. Seconds later, the biscuit softened to a texture that resembled a sponge cake. Alexis urged the wide-eyed Hadir to take a bite.

Hadir was sceptical until he tried it, pleasantly surprised. He praised, "Finally, some food fit for humans!"

"Genius, right?" He nodded in agreement, passing her the cup to share. "And I can see that look in your eyes that you want to ask if I'm okay, so answer your question: I'm fine, although I'm sick of people asking me that. Thinking about tattooing the answer across my forehead, wanna help?"

"Horrible idea... Count me in. But no, not your injuries, here," he pointed at his heart. "You feel bad for letting the Wolf go, I know. It's not your fault, Alena– Alexis," he corrected. "Your names are confusing."

The smirk on her face faltered slightly. Though it quickly returned, Hadir already saw the cracks in her smile. Then she decided not to bother with the facade. "I should have fought harder. I imagine there are people who should be alive right now if not for me."

"Like I said, not your fault. In all my years, you got my sister and me closer than we've ever been to end this war... We've lost many brothers and sisters to get to this point. Between Barkov and the Wolf, I'm not sure which of these dogs are worse." His words had a certain edge in them, reminding her how much this war changed Hadir. "But they are not careless men. Why did the Wolf keep you alive?"

"Said he wanted to watch me suffer," Alexis answered honestly, hesitantly taking another bite of her dessert. "Jokes on him. I'm gonna crush him. We're gonna fucking crush them."

Hadir pulled his legs closer to his chest, returning a small smile when she rested a comforting hand on his knees, "With a big enough stone, right?"

"Damn right."

━━━━━━

Even with the miraculous arrival of a second chance, it doesn't mean Alexis made it easy. Now was the perfect example for his argument.

"Maybe you did hit your head too hard—look in the mirror and tell me if you see a large cut across your forehead, because I might be seeing things." He pinched his nose bridge in distress. Price had tasked the very injured Alexis to sweep houses with Bravo Team, take it easy and all.

Alexis wore a polite smile and calmly said, "Fuck you."

"How eager," he retorted, knowing just the way to irk her.

She threw up her trusty middle finger, "Hard pass."

Really? She thought, playing hard to get is so 2002, Alexis.

"Really?" He moved closer, and except for a hardened face, Alexis did nothing to stop him. Trapped between Alex and a table, she breathily observed the blue flecks in his irises, avoiding his alluring pink lips that was definitely calling to her. "Trouble breathing?"

Alexis swallowed her nerves, "The only trouble I'm having is my lack of personal space."

"Ouch..." His head fell defeatedly on her shoulder, chuckling. "Lexi, honey..." he gilded, eyes boring into her own. She kept still and bit her tongue at the pet name, watching his gaze travel down her face, maybe her lips.

Alex pressed more of his weight against her, "Be a good girl for me. Consider I said please."

Her heart quickened, sparing a quick glance at the wide-open door full of Marines who stood oblivious to their actions, but if they continued standing in this position, it was just a matter of time. "You're adding to the rumours..."

"So everybody thinks we're dating, big deal." He slammed the door shut to prove a point.

Are we? What is this between us?

She tasted the words on the tip of her tongue. Alex's flirting had become painfully obvious that she wasn't the sole player of this game anymore. And instead of addressing it, her wickedness took over—lightly chewing down her lips just to confirm her suspicions again.

A knowing smile slowly builds when he took the bait.

Alex blinked rapidly, retreating instantly. His attempt to clear his throat was pathetic, voice throaty as he said, "You're going with Bravo, no arguments."

"Like hell. The medic cleared me!"

Alex paused thoughtfully, rolling up his sleeves up his forearm. If this was his sly attempt to distract her, it worked. Reasons beyond her, his tattooed arms were incredibly attractive. "Was that before or after you threaten him?"

He didn't... Alexis recalled the easily convinced medic. Sue her for having a way with words. She smiled sweetly, refocusing on packing her combat bag, "You have no proof."

"Tell that to your face," he rolled his eyes. "Babe, come on, there's not enough time for me to tie you to a bed."

She'd admit to almost choking at his unexpected comment. Like a good spy, she hung a scowl at his charming smirk—refusing to play into his trap. Then, she internalised his appearance, styled hair, in the middle of a war. Still so vain. Probably trying to impress her, cute.

"Number one, you're god damn shameless–"

"I call it honesty," he shrugged.

"Outrageous, not to mention scandalous-" she corrected.

Alex huffed, throwing his head back briefly.

"Number two, I'm pretty sure Wade outside there, who was shot in the thigh is still on the mission. Talk about a double standard."

Usually, this danger zone was when Alex would back off. But today, she was convinced he had an intensified case of a stick up his ass. Still, he brazenly took the loaded magazines off her hands. "I'm trying to not treat you any differently from the boys, if that's what you're implying. I just don't want anything else to happen to you, Alexis."

"But I am different, Alex! I'm not the boys," the menace in her voice was hard to miss, a stark juxtaposition to the playfulness, "I don't want to be one of the boys. Read my damn resume, you really think this injury will be the one to do me in?" Her neck craned upwards to meet him, "I'm still standing. I can do this."

Alex finally uncrossed his arms and nodded, "Okay."

She cast a suspicious sideways glance, "That's it?"

Alex hummed– actually hummed this time. Her eyebrows shot heavenward, which amused him. "You expected a few more rounds, didn't you?" At her nod, "I trust you, that's all."

"Huh... Usually, you'd try harder. Say something melodramatic like: No, Alexis! You'll quite possibly die, bleed out to death–"

"Defamatory, I do not sound like that," he insisted upon her dramatic pause and casual dismissal of hands.

Alexis poked accusingly into his chest, "Something's wrong with you." He smirked like he knew something she didn't, and ironically, she did. You're not that slick, Romeo. Two can play this game.

"Funny. Here I thought a master profiler like yourself had better skills."

Part of her questioned if it was a double meaning, but shook it off. Grabbing her stolen magazines from his grasp, "Come on, we have a war to fight."

She wondered if Alex's blood had always run so hot when she reached over to grab his arm, surely she wasn't the only one who felt that. But Alex remained silent and allowed her to push him towards the door. They were about to step out until her satellite phone sounded. The two shared looks of caution at the odd notion, her phone hardly rang. Alex was the designated communication channel, and with Price's arrival, he carried that responsibility.

Unless it was an emergency... She quickly accepted the call. "This is a secured line, identify yourself and how you got this number."

"I have my ways. Good to hear you're still breathing."

Her shoulders relaxed, "Ruddiger. Why wouldn't I– Did something happen?"

"Saint, listen carefully, I don't have much time."  She mumbled a quick apology before kicking him out the room.

"Okay, I'm ready."

"After you left, we got a tip about Valhalla's safe house. It was a scam to draw our attention away from Boucher." Her stomach clenched at the ominous feeling. "He's dead. Someone got to him."

"In the Hostel? That's not possible." The whole point of a Blacksite was that it didn't exist.

"It's true, Saint. I saw his body with my own eyes. We found a tracker—plastic polymer, explains why it didn't show up when we wanded him." He continued when Alexis didn't reply, "This shit gets worse. They got a list... Of everybody who's on the op."

Her heart stopped right then, "No fucking way. Where are you now? And wait, this is high-level intel, how do you-"

"I'm officially CIA, thanks to your glowing recommendation. So technically, I'm also here to say I owe you one. The welcoming committee sucks, they're putting us in safe houses. All except you."

Then Alex burst through the doors, signalling it was time to move, but paused at her ghastly face. She held up a shaky hand, "Well, fuck, mon sauveur, huh? Thanks for the intel, but you do know you just broke protocol?"

From the anxious rubs on her face, Alex knew something was really wrong.

Ruddiger laughed on the other line, "Consider it my gratitude for your olive branch. I gotta go. Stay safe, Saint. You'll never know how far Valhalla can reach."

"I'm in the middle of a war. He'll never find me here," she braved through the unsteadiness in her voice. When the call ended, she remained on the chair, still profoundly dumbstruck. She didn't know which was worse: that someone managed to infiltrate a Level 10 CIA blacksite, spooking Valhalla, or that her name was sitting somewhere on a hit list.

Another question bagged her, was it her real name? A thousand worries crashed down onto her. Why haven't Forbes or Maddox called?

"Hey," Alexis jumped at the touch, instilling more fret in Alex, who kneeled before her chair. "You're shaking. You okay?"

Alexis knew Alex wouldn't stop until he got an answer. Yet she couldn't give it to him, she'd put him in danger.

"Always," she mustered the biggest smile she could. And because of that, Alex saw right through her. But there wasn't time to dig further, they had a war to fight. Besides, for all she knew, she was safe, for now.

If Forbes or Maddox haven't called, it meant she was still safe. She'd focus on that.

When she wordlessly slung her rifle and holstered her guns, there was a heavier feeling bubbling inside her. Alexis didn't have a good omen, but she couldn't pinpoint if her gut was referring to today's war, or the brewing one.

Ah fuck, is there a difference? War is war.

War is war, was her final thought as she got ready to start a day full of tragedies.

Alexis should have listened to her gut.

‧͙⁺˚*·༓

a/n: taking a minute to say thank you to all of you!! i never thought Killer Instinct would receive so much love, but here we are, thank you lovers!!

taglist: @flyboidameron @wanderlustgiant @captain-pikas-world​ (wanna be tagged? lmk!)

[scorbleeo]

Élite Season 3 | TV Show Review

Watch Élite Season 3 trailer here.

When three working-class teenagers begin attending an exclusive private school in Spain, the clash between them and the wealthy students leads to murder.

Source: https://www.imdb.com/title/tt7134908/

With the shocking revelation and the breaking tension between students in light of the exposed culprit behind Marina's murder, only one question remains. Will there be another incoming tragedy at Las Encinas? yes. Find out who is responsible for Polo's death?

Source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elite_(TV_series)

I’m in Love with This Show!

The first season seemed so far away now that we are actually on the third season. Reminiscing the past (barely two to three years ago), I did not expect to fall completely in love with everything Élite. Despite not adoring the entire cast initially, I’ve grown to love the faces of Élite. And not surprisingly, I absolutely love the way the show takes its time to build up to the mystery that was first slammed into our faces in the first episode, every single season. That right there, is originality in terms of structuring a TV show. Kudos to the team who created Élite and made it possible.

Now, let’s get on with the review of Élite Season 3. Truth to be told, by the end of Élite Season 2, I utterly hated Polo. I remembered falling head over heels for Polo’s (Álvaro Rico) looks in the first season but was downright disappointed with how his story arc ended up. I was on the side where we hated Polo and thought he deserved death; like when he laid down Marina’s sentence in the first season. It turns out, this show is extremely capable in twisting plots and character arcs to the point where I hated him in one episode, pitied him in the next and got my heart broken during his last breath. I do realise now that from the very second he struck that trophy on Marina’s head (inadvertently causing her death), the choices he seemingly made were not choices of his own deciding. As powerful as Polo is–in terms of wealth–he is one of those who, unfortunately, gets manipulated easily. Said manipulation need not be bad but he would always be easily manipulated nonetheless.

Just like back in season 2 when I finally understood Carla’s predicament, I finally understood why was Polo the way he was. After all, not everybody gets their character development in the very first season like Guzmán and Ander did. Although, I gotta add, Guzmán’s character took a pleasant turn in this season. I really enjoyed watching his scenes. As for Samuel, he’s a slightly different story there.

When I first found out who murdered Polo, I was seriously confused. I did not know why and how. Honestly speaking, that person was the last person I would ever suspect. However, as I watched on, I understood why and it was at that second right after he was stabbed that I truly forgave Polo for all that he did in season 2. The fact that he understood where his murderer was coming from, his “I know”–that reassurance, at that very moment, I saw the genuine Polo. The entire combination, strength and vulnerability, vindictiveness and kindness, and his achilles heel: his undying loyalty. The one who scolded his mothers into making sure they kept the scholarship going. The one who saved Carla from going a step further into a dangerous obsession. Sadly...Polo actually deserved better. He was only in so much trouble because of Carla’s father.

Seriously, the parents are the villains in Élite. All except Nadia and Omar’s parents, and Ander’s mother. Lu and Valerio’s father who simply ditched them because he was not good enough of a father to teach them the right values. Guzmán’s parents who really only care about face. Rebeka’s mother who’s constantly trying to pull her into the illegal business. Samuel’s mother who seemed to care about Nano more than Samuel. Carla’s materialistic parents. And Polo’s one-minded mothers...

There, I’ve finally said it, the parents are the roots of so many problems among these children.

I am very much aware that this review seemed to be very character-centric, and seemed to look more like a discussion rather than a TV show review. I don’t know about the rest but when I watch this TV show, it’s not for the plot but the characters. Their growth, their struggles, their choices, their actions. Hence, my character-centric review. I have so much more to say about the other people but as I begun writing this review, I realised I really only wanted to discuss Polo. The rest...maybe someday I will talk about it on Twitter, but they need not be here.

I’ve heard rumours that although seasons 4 and 5 are already in the talks, the main cast will not be returning for them. With the end of Élite Season 3 the way it is, I can see how the main cast will not be returning. However, is Élite really Élite without the main cast? Let me bring you back to a paragraph ago when I just said (in my opinion) this is a show heavy on character arcs, and not storylines. I am hoping for someone crucial to the team behind Élite to come across my review or at least just this last bit. We need them. I can name what we need in each of them but I know we needing them is impactful enough. So, please. Don’t disappoint.

Rating: ★★★★★

[ericsonclan]

A Crown of Gold

Summary: Clementine is left alone in the greenhouse and decides to make a flower crown for Louis.

Read on A03:

Clementine sat on the floor of the greenhouse peeling vegetables for dinner. A pile of Jerusalem artichokes lay at her feet. Ruby had mentioned the other names for the plant as they were digging the roots up: earth apple, sunroot, sunchoke… it was interesting how the same plant could have so many different titles, especially when the part they were eating simply looked like a particularly lumpy potato. The flowers that bloomed on the surface revealed the true source of the sun-based names. Their bright yellow petals and orange cores reminded her a little of the sunflowers her mother grew in the backyard. She quite liked them. It was a shame they had to uproot them in order to eat.

“Everything going alright in here?” Ruby asked as she dragged a tub of vegetable peels that had been composting outside back into the room. “Nothing happened while I was gone?” “

No, Ruby, nothing happened in the three minutes you were gone,” Clementine hoped her tone hadn’t been too sharp. She knew Ruby was just looking out for her, but after weeks of mandated bedrest with constant visitors and everyone hovering about her when she stepped outside, Clementine had appreciated the few minutes of peace and quiet. She couldn’t be afforded privacy for long though: not when her freshly healed stump meant a wandering walker could overpower her if they ever crossed paths.

Ruby’s eyebrows dropped as she offered a sympathetic smile. The annoyance had bled through Clem’s words after all. “Oh, Sug, I know you’re antsy. It’s no fun being cooped up when all ya want to do is roam around freely. But I promise you this isn’t what every day will look like. Eventually we’ll have you back up on your feet and raring to go,”

Clementine sighed. “I know, Ruby. And it’s not like I don’t enjoy spending time with you, it’s just… this is a big change for me. For all of us,”

They both looked down at her bandaged stump. The pain was still there, hovering beyond the limb almost as if it was only injured, not missing. Ruby called it phantom limb pain. After a few days, Clementine had stopped bothering to mention it. She was already on a regimen of the strongest medicine they had. There wasn’t much else that could be done.

Ruby tutted. “To think that I’m letting you sit on this dirty floor when I shoulda marched you right out to the picnic benches and brought the tubers to you…”

“Ruby, it’s fine. I wanted it this way,” Inside here, she didn’t have to worry about running into any of the other kids and making small talk. She didn’t have to keep one eye out for A.J. to plaster on a smile as soon as he skipped over to her side. It wasn’t that company wasn’t pleasant; she just needed a few minutes to herself where she could sit with her stump and not wonder what those around her were thinking.

Ruby looked unconvinced at Clementine’s words, but let her be. She pulled on her gardening gloves and began separating the compost and spreading it throughout the planters. It hadn’t even been a month since they’d reclaimed the greenhouse and already Ruby had breathed enough life into it for them to be harvesting and replanting their crops. She and Clementine settled into a peaceful silence as they resumed their work. Once the bin was empty, Ruby looked toward the door, worry etched on her face.

“I’m not going to break if you leave me alone for ten minutes, Ruby,”

“I know that… Louis would have my hide though if he found you in here alone,”

“Louis? C’mon Ruby, he’s a teddy bear! Besides, dusk’s not coming for another half hour at least. You’ve got time,”

“Well… alright. I’m steppin’ out for just a few minutes to fetch some more false Solomon’s seal I saw growing by the dormitories. Don’t move, y’hear?”

“Mhm,” Clementine mumbled noncommittally. Not like she had the energy to escape this room anyway. She’d probably go to sleep as soon as dinner was done. The door clapped shut behind Ruby as she stepped out and Clementine was left on her own.

Now what? She’d already finished peeling all the Jerusalem artichokes. There were still things to be done about the greenhouse, but Clementine wasn’t well-versed enough to take the lead without fearing she would mess up Ruby’s hard work. Should she just sit in silence till Ruby came back? It wasn’t the worst idea in the world. Clementine rested her head against the planter behind her, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath. It smelled nice in here: earthy, like how the world was after a fresh rain. It was nice to just sit back and take it in.

She felt something poking her leg and opened her eyes to find one of the sunchoke stems had fallen nearby her. Clementine picked it up, twirling the stem around through her fingers. The flowers reminded her of a home long abandoned, but they also made her think of her new home here, the warmth and love she’d been given. They especially reminded her of one freckle-faced boy in particular and the mischievous smile he always threw her way. Clementine smiled to herself, tracing her finger along the outside of each individual petal.

This thing that she and Louis had was so new, yet so intense. Perhaps if they’d been living lives in the old normal ways things would have progressed more slowly. But every second of every day was a gift when death loomed around every corner. There wasn’t time to waste on pleasantries in the midst of utter chaos. To think that only a few weeks ago she hadn’t even met Louis… now here she was smiling like a fool because a flower reminded her of him.

She wanted to do something for Louis, something to thank him for all he’d done for her. How he’d carried her through the night, frantically trying to get her home as her blood seeped into the seams of his trench coat. How he’d kept watch at her bedside, unwilling to sleep until he saw her eyes open again. How he’d helped with the bloody bandages, the crutches, the nights when she couldn’t stop crying because of the pain that simply would not cease. Theirs was such a young relationship, but it had already been tested and tried with stakes far greater than most would willingly take on.

Clementine took another sunchoke in her hands, examining it carefully. The stems were thick, but if she was careful she bet she could slice through them successfully, just enough to interlock another stem without breaking the chain. She hadn’t made a flower crown since kindergarten. She wanted to try though, to give Louis some small gift to show her affection. Maybe it was a silly thought, but that certainly wouldn’t stop her. So she set forth on her task, pulling out her pocketknife and digging into the first stem.

The waning light coming through the greenhouse windows let Clementine trace the passage of time as she worked on her flower crown. Some stems broke, too frail to retain the needed shape. Others had flowers with mangled or missing petals. She wouldn’t have that. Clementine wanted perfection. As the crown began to take shape, Clementine tested it out on herself. It was a good fit, but would that hold true for Louis? How big did those dreadlocks make his head? She would simply have to give it her best shot. With a determined huff, Clementine got back to work.

By the time Clementine was about finished, the light outside was shifting from rich orange tones to the cool blue of night. She hadn’t really noticed, so absorbed in the task at hand. Some scuffling noises from outside captured her attention though.

“What the fuck, Ruby? You left her alone in there?”

“I didn’t mean to! I was only gonna be gone for a second. Then Molly broke out from her paddock and A.J. and I had to corral her back inside. I sent Willy to go sit with her, but then he got roped into some dinner prep by Omar-”

“I don’t want excuses! The greenhouse has been overrun before. What were you thinking leaving her in there instead of helping her sit out on the benches? Clem? Clem?” Louis busted through the greenhouse door, his brow furrowed. He immediately locked eyes with Clementine, crouching down and wrapping her in a tight hug. “Oh, thank god!”

Ruby popped up behind him, looking worried. “Thank goodness! Clem, I am so sorry! I swear I thought Willy was heading over to be with you over twenty minutes ago!”

“Don’t worry about it, Ruby. Nothing happened. The time alone was actually nice,” Clementine offered Ruby a reassuring smile. “I’m OK, really,”

Louis pulled away to examine her more closely, a hand cupping her face as he took in her every feature. “You’re sure? You don’t have any pain? When are you due for more medicine?”

“Not until bedtime. I’m alright, Louis, I swear,” She looked toward Ruby. 

“Seriously, I don’t need anything. You can go if you’re needed elsewhere,”

“OK… I’m gonna help Omar with dinner. But if anything and I mean anything happens and you need me, you just holler, OK? I won’t be far,”

“Thank you, Ruby,”

“Ruby,” Louis started, turning round slightly. “About what I said..”

Ruby lifted her hand to silence him. “Don’t think about it. You were right to be worried. I’dve been the same way in your boots. I’ll see y’all at dinner,” The door clacked shut behind Ruby again and the greenhouse fell silent.

Louis returned to his examination of Clementine. “I swear, I never should have let Aasim talk me into hunting today,” he muttered as he fiddled with a stray piece of her hair. “To think that on the first day I go out something like this happens-”

“Louis, seriously, stop. Everything is fine. There’s no point freaking out about something that didn’t even happen,” Clementine ran a hand along the lapel of his coat, straightening it. “Where’s that smile I love so much?”

The words clearly threw Louis off guard. He blushed, lowering his eyes before cautiously lifting them, a small smile playing across his lips.

“That’s it,” Clementine leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I made something for you,”

His eyes brightened. “Really? What?”

“It’s not much, but…” Clementine raised the flower crown between them. “I thought it would suit you,”

Louis gazed at the crown in wonder, his fingers following the braided pattern Clementine had weaved. “Holy shit, you made this?”

“Mhm. The flowers were left over from harvesting the Jerusalem artichokes and when I saw them, well, they made me think of you. May I?”

Louis nodded, inclining his head so she could place the crown on his head. 

“How do I look?” His face was shining with newfound excitement. “Damn, I wish there was a mirror in here,”

He looked beautiful. The way the softness of the yellow petals interplayed with the coarseness of his dreadlocks… there was something majestic there. Clementine smiled. “You look gorgeous,”

This time it was Louis’ turn to lean forward for a kiss. As their lips met, Clementine felt her heart pounding in the exhilaration of the moment. She wanted to stay here like this with Louis in this pure, distilled moment of happiness. A moment where nothing mattered but-

“Clem!” Willy burst through the door, eyes wide. “Do you have those Jerusalem artichokes? Omar needs them? Sorry I forgot about you earlier by the way,” His eyes fell on Louis’ flower crown. “What’s that?”

“This is a flower crown that Clementine made lovingly for me,” Louis answered pointing at his head. “And this was also a beautiful moment that we were sharing between ourselves before you so rudely-”

“Can’t talk! Omar needs these potatoes!” Willy exclaimed, leaping forward and seizing the bowl beside Clementine’s feet. “Thanks, guys!” And with that he was gone.

Louis and Clementine shared a look before chuckling to themselves.

“Well, on that note,” Louis stood up, grabbing the crutches that were resting by the door. “Ready to head out?”

She’d rather stay here with him, but Clementine’s stomach betrayed her, letting out a pronounced growl.

“That answers my question then,” Louis laughed, kneeling to pick Clementine up and set her on her feet. “Shall we, my lady?”

“But of course,” Clementine quipped, making her way out of the greenhouse. The crutches made her underarms ache and her stump had begun to dully throb. “Let’s get this over with, then it’s off to bed for me,”

“Off to bed for us, you mean,” Louis smiled at her, the flower crown slipping further down on one side. “Don’t worry. I won’t keep you up. I just want a few minutes seeing as we’ve been separated the entire day,”

“Who am I to say no to my flower prince?” Clementine paused to adjust the crown. “It really does suit you,”

“I’ll treasure it forever,”

“Better put it in some water then,”

“Once you’re asleep,” Louis strode forward. “I want you to be able to appreciate it in its full grandeur for as long as possible before I take it off,”

Clementine giggled. “Alright then,”

“I’m totally making one for you tomorrow,” Louis circled back around to her. “That way we’ll match,”

“Sounds fun,”

“I’ll teach A.J. to make one too,”

“He’d love that,” They paused in their walk to the tables. Louis leaned forward, barely a fraction of an inch away from Clementine’s lips.

“Guys, dinner’s getting cold!” Aasim called. “Hurry up!”

Louis rolled his eyes as he pulled away from her. “Well, Aasim will not be getting a flower crown tomorrow after that move,”

Clementine chuckled. “He’ll be heartbroken,”

“That’s the price he pays for ruining a perfectly good kiss,”

“Guys, c’mon!”

“Coming!” Louis shouted back in annoyance. “Your flower crown privileges for the next month are about to be revoked, buddy!”

“What does that even mean?”

“Oh, you know what it means!”

As Louis strode forward, Clementine followed easily behind him. Her smile refused to go away, and that was thanks to everyone around her. That and a certain golden crown.

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

sit with me a while

Requests: Can you do a sequel for Write to Me? / Can you write a fic about Willy mourning Mitch? We didn’t get to see much other than the beginning of episode 3... / I know you said you wished we could have gone to Mitch’s funeral, so maybe you could write a fic about that?

[Thank you for the pic, Pi!]

Read on AO3

---

The water’s freezing, the cold soaking into his bones as he kicks his feet at the passing fish. 

With the sun peeking over the horizon, barely lighting the lake or the trees, one would think the air is just as chilled. It’s the opposite- warm and heavy with the scent of summer, something sweet and floral. The perfect temperature. 

Willy’s cheeks flush crimson as if he just finished an hour-long run, or if he were running a fever. Scooting closer to the edge, he sticks his long, lanky legs further into the coolness, soaking the ends of his shorts. Mud squishes between his toes as he digs them in deeper. Something wiggles against the soles, perhaps a worm or even a snake, but he’s not too worried about it. 

He slips further into the water until fully engulfed. The contrast between hot and cold burns his flesh in an oddly pleasant way. Willy remains beneath the surface for a long time, the pressure in his ears or the need to breathe not a pressing issue or even a concern. 

No, if anything, the only things that hurt are his eyes. They’re sore, heavy, and somehow dry even when submerged. He can barely keep them open to admire the beauty within the water. Schools of tiny colorful fish, bright blue crabs crawling among the moss and iridescent rocks, seahorses whizzing around each other as if playing a game of tag. 

Willy wants to watch it all, wants to swim out there and join the underwater creatures, but he can barely see. 

He can’t remember the last time his eyes hurt this much. 

Hell, the last time he cried like this-

There’s laughter.

It’s muffled, deep. 

Willy squints through the pain, searching the water, but the source of the laughter isn’t down here. 

Of course not, he thinks. Fish can’t laugh. 

The water breaks and he takes a gulp of fresh air. He spits, blowing his nose and shaking his head, droplets spraying from his sopping locks. 

The laughter is clear now. 

“Oh, c’mon!”

The crash of a can.

High-pitched whimpers. 

Willy rubs at his eyes, wincing. 

“Really?!”

A voice responds, something gargled like if a walker tried to talk. 

It’s enough for him to pull forward, clinging to the land and climbing up, still rubbing his eyes on his arms and blinking away any blurriness brought on by the water. 

Frantic, exuberant barking. 

His eyes- his ears- they’re lying to him. They have to be. 

Royal purple adorns the front of Louis’ shirt as a man- someone unrecognizable- flings a paintbrush at him. Rosie jumps and barks with excitement as she chases after it. 

Willy becomes rigid, half stuck in the cold water at the sight before him. He blinks several times, but nothing changes.  

Louis dodges to the side, the paintbrush smacking against the side of the house-

The house?

Willy hurts his neck cranking it back to try and see the top of the half-painted house- no, not a house- half-painted mansion but all he sees are clouds. Big, fluffy, gray clouds high up in the orange and lavender sky hide the rest of the building, and for the first time since his growth spurt, Willy feels small. 

Small, cold, weakened, dumbfounded, a little terrified- a cocktail of emotions boiling in his belly. 

The mansion towers over everything; over the trees, over the lake, over the whole world. Old, metal ladders press against the side, paint cans, rollers, and brushes spread out across the healthy grass, and plastic protects new pristine windows. The double doors are missing from the front, laying against the staircase leading up to their future placement, glossy from a fresh coat of white paint. 

Rosie barks again, Willy's gaze darting away from the doors and back to her. She buzzes with radiant energy, bouncing and howling for attention. 

There’s something heavy and sour in his throat as he watches Louis pick up a paint can and move it over to the ladder, whistling for Rosie to follow. She’s close behind, her tail wagging gleefully and her tongue hanging out the side of her mouth. 

“Rosie…” Willy covers his mouth as liquid warmth spreads behind his sore eyes. He tries wiping them on his sleeve again, but the material’s soaked, only making it worse. 

Louis calls out something more, but being so far away, the words are like soft murmurs hidden in the breeze sweeping the area. 

The man- Willy tries to get a look at his face, but can’t- shakes his head and walks away with an endearing little grin. Louis calls after him, holding up the paint can for emphasis. 

“Louis…?” The name feels strange on his tongue, like one that hasn’t been spoken in a long time, nearly becoming foreign. 

He continues to speak, more so to himself and Rosie, and perhaps Willy could hear him better if his heart wasn’t beating so damn hard in his ears.

Burying his face in the grass, Willy allows darkness to overcome his sight as he counts to five before looking up.

“No, no, that’s-”

It’s still Louis kneeling down to adjust the ladder, and it’s still Rosie sitting beside him, so he does it again. 

Still Louis, chuckling about something the man said as he pours paint. 

Still Rosie, leaning forward to press her snout against the grass. 

She finds a clean paintbrush, picking it up and sitting patiently with her little tail wagging in the grass. 

Louis chuckles, patting her head and taking it from her. 

“Good girl.”

If there was ever a distinguishable laugh ingrained in Willy’s brain, even after all these years, it would be Louis’, and it brings a heartbreaking nostalgia that bubbles over in his stomach up into his chest.

A shaky breath passes his lips as he yanks himself fully out of the water and stumbles to his feet. Whether it be due to the physical weight of the water in his clothes or the weight in his mind and chest, he struggles to stay standing. Stumbling, practically crawling on his hands and knees, he gets closer. 

The closer he gets, the more clear Louis’ form and words, the more panicked his gut becomes. 

That’s when Willy realizes that he’s not just speaking- he’s singing. 

“...I wish I had something more to give you...”

Willy stops. 

Rosie softly howls with the song as if to sing with him. 

“Good girl,” Louis laughs. “...You've been feeling bad this time of year...”

That night- 

It hits him quick, like a flash in his brain. 

The last image he had of Louis prior to this moment. 

That night they brought everyone home. 

“...If I could I would drive out to see you…”

Well, almost everyone. 

“...Take it from me, I'd be lost without you…”

Clementine, AJ, and Tenn were still out there, lost in the chaos of the delta explosion and Louis refused to stay put. Aasim tried to get him to stay, said it was too dangerous for him to go out there alone, said they needed his help to take care of Omar and Violet, said they would go out for them in a group once they’ve rested, but he didn’t- he couldn’t. 

“...I try to run away, but you're running up on me faster, and I could barely breathe, I couldn't even turn around…”

The last time Willy ever saw him was when he ran through the gates and out into the woods. 

That’s it. 

Can’t even remember the last thing he said before he left. Willy didn’t think about it at the time- he was too busy sorting through the supplies he stole off the rafts. 

“...I only hope we make it home safe and sound…”

The next morning, AJ wheeled Clementine up in a wheelbarrow, both of them covered in walker guts and Clem missing her leg, barely holding on.

Tenn was missing. 

And Louis was dead. 

“...Safe and sound…”

Eaten alive.

Nothing left of him.

When they had his funeral, they buried his deck of cards. 

Clementine wouldn’t let them touch the piano, not even to break a piece off to bury, too. Even in her weakened state, she still threatened Aasim when he suggested it. 

No one said it, but they all thought ‘no one is going to play that piano anymore, so why not lay it to rest with him?’

But, they weren’t going to fight with her on it, not when she had to drag herself out on crutches to attend- against Ruby’s concerns- and could barely stand through it. Willy had to bring around a chair for her to sit down, and Ruby covered her with a heavy blanket before she collapsed. 

They weren’t wrong, though. 

No one has played that piano in five years. 

The only one who goes in the music room anymore is Clementine, and when she’s in there, no one else is allowed in- AJ’s rule. 

He doesn’t know what she does in there, not really. He knows she sits at the piano with the wooden cover placed over the keys, and he knows she sits there and writes stuff in some notebook. 

He spied on her one night through the crack in the door. He wasn’t trying to be creepy, even though AJ thought he was and banned him from the music room forever, which was a little harsh. He just wanted to make sure she was okay. 

Willy feels a chill that starts at his muddy feet and travels up his calves, along the shirt clinging to his back and shudders his shoulders with every step he takes closer to the mansion.

Louis begins singing a new song, which excites Rosie as she begins yapping at him and howling along. 

He looks... 

What’s the word Willy’s looking for?

Bright? Carefree? Buoyant? ...Real?

...Alive?

“...So we'll find a mountain path on down the hill... C’mon, Rosie! ...Meet me where the snow mount flows...”

Willy can’t even remember if he cried at Louis’ funeral. Surely, he must have, didn’t he? 

Did he?

Was that the last time he’s cried this much…?

No.

Willy forces himself to stand. 

No, that would be Mitch’s funeral.

After Willy had lashed out at Tenn, shoving him to the ground and threatening him until the other boy ran away, Louis went after him. 

He got down to his level and forced eye contact. In his fit of heated rage, his heartbreaking despair over the loss of the most important being in his life, Willy swung and pounded his fists against Louis’ chest, not even bothering to hold in his tears and enraged sobs. He remembers Ruby telling him to stop, but more so he remembers Louis grabbing both of his wrists to pull him into a hug. 

When he closes his eyes, he can still hear Louis telling him it’s okay that he’s upset, to let it all out, get it out of his system. 

Eventually, he calmed down and Louis helped him carry Mitch to the grave Ruby dug. 

Willy never forgot that.

Not a single detail- Mitch’s bloody face, his lifeless eyes, Clementine’s promises, Louis’ warmth and comforting hug, Tenn’s shame and guilt-ridden, downcasted gaze, Ruby’s muffled sobs- was forgotten. 

If he closes his eyes, he can see himself standing before the freshly dug grave where Ruby covered Mitch with shovels over dirt until he was gone. Gone and never seen again, nothing left of him. 

The only thing Willy to remind him of what Mitch looked like was a school picture of him when he first got here. The one he keeps tape up on his desk next to Mitch’s favorite knife. 

The funeral was over quick- they didn’t have time to mourn him. Not really. 

They had raiders to kill. 

Willy finally approaches them, close enough to that what he’s seeing is true. 

Rosie’s head bolts up, her ears straight and amber eyes alert. She scans the area, sniffing the air.  When she sees Willy, he holds her stare just as he holds his breath, waiting. 

There’s barely any time to react or gasp out when she bolts towards him. Falling back to his knees, Willy opens his arms to her as she leaps at him, lapping at his face and whines. 

“Rosie!” Willy sobs into her warm fur, holding onto her tightly for fear that she’d fade away. “Oh, it’s you! Good girl! Good girl!”

A shadow falls over them. Willy pulls the eager dog away from his line of vision to see Louis’ wide, curious eyes peering down at him. There’s paint dried to his cheek and hands, but his skin appears bright and so… alive. 

“Louis?”

Something registers within him, and Louis grins. 

“Willy, I thought it was you,” Louis chuckles, sitting down beside him and pulling Rosie off from her attack on his face. “It’s been a while.”

Rosie barks, refusing to be ignored, pressing her wet nose into his neck. When Willy goes to pet her again, he notices that all of the white and gray hairs are gone from her muzzle and around her eyes. No more deformed lumps scatter across her sides and hips, no more broken teeth or bent whiskers, no more blood caked to the fur around her bum or tail. 

She’s young again, perhaps a little older than a full-grown pup. 

“How ya doing, buddy?” Louis’ tender voice interrupts his thoughts. 

A ball of dread plops down from his chest into his stomach, something that nearly jerks him back to reality- or rather, whatever this is. When he touches her face, he expects her to fall cold, maybe become old again, but she doesn’t. 

“With everything, I mean,” Louis adds. “Heard it’s been a tough week.”

He ‘heard?’ What did that mean?

“I know what happened,” Louis answers without him breathing the question, something Willy would’ve immediately concluded as physic, telepathic superpowers, but since Rosie’s here in the first place... Of course he knows. 

“I… I don’t know.”

Louis nods, sighing as he looks back at the mansion. 

“I used to worry about it, you know,” he says, “What it would do to everyone, especially you and Tenn since you both grew up with her.”

Rosie snuggles herself into Willy’s lap, playfully nipping at his fingers as he pets her neck and face. 

“I ever tell you I had a pet turtle?”

“No,” Willy shakes his head. “But, Clem said you did.”

“Geoff,” Louis beams. “I loved him. He was small and slow, but he could devour one of those huge strawberries in seconds. It was awesome.”

“Why a turtle?” Willy asks. “Why not a dog? Or a cat?”

“Mom was allergic to a lot of furry animals, and Geoff was anything but furry,” he laughs, reaching out to rub Rosie’s belly. “When I got sent away, I wasn’t allowed to take him with me. He had to go stay with my grandma and I never got to see him again.”

“Oh...”

“Well,” Louis smirks, “until now. Geoff’s in charge of the garden in the back. He’s strict and a little grumpy, but he grows the best damn strawberries you’ve ever eaten.”

Willy bursts into a fit of giggles. “What?”

“He does!” Louis insists. “Strawberries, raspberries, corn, carrots, blueberries! And, he just planted some apple trees, too. Best damn garden turtle I could’ve ever asked for.”

Willy can’t help it, he’s almost choking because he’s laughing too hard. Rosie sits up, curiously watching the boy with her tail moving at top speeds. 

Louis laughs with him, and when that laughter dies down, he places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

 “It’ll get better,” he says. “I promise. Shit like this always hurts like hell at first.”

“I know.”

“If it makes you feel better, Rosie misses you guys just as much.”

Rosie barks in agreement, and Louis chuckles. 

“See?”

Willy tries to smile, but can’t find it in himself as he scratches Rosie’s ears, studying her youthful face. Those are nothing but vibrant amber, a contrast to the bloodshot black that she had in her final moments.  

“She loves it here.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just-” Willy sighs, “it sucks. It really, really sucks.”

Louis studies him a moment, his hand absently running along Rosie’s back. She’s calmed down, her large head resting in Willy’s lap again as her eyes droop shut. 

“How’s everyone else doing?”

“They’re okay, I think. AJ and Tenn drew this big picture of her with all of us there with these treats laying all around for her to chew on. Aasim helped me make a big cross to stick in the grave and I carved some cool designs in it. We bur- um, we buried her between you and Marlon.”

Louis nods, smiling. 

“That’s a good place.”

They’re quiet, enjoying the humid breeze that rustles the grass and watching the golden sun continue to rise. 

Willy glances over at him, wondering if he should continue.

“Clementine did it,” he says slowly. “Put her down, I mean. Aasim was gonna do it but… looking at her just- none of us could, so she stepped in and...” he trails off. 

“Took care of her,” Louis continues to nod, though his smile falls into a thoughtful look as his hand travels to Rosie’s chest, scratching the one good spot that always got her leg kicking. “Of course she did.”

Willy’s chin quivers, but he takes a deep breath to calm himself down, sighing, “We didn’t want her to suffer anymore, y’know?” 

“I know.”

Louis gets to his feet, rolling his shoulders as if to relieve some tension. 

“Well, Willy, it’s good to see you again, but I have a feeling I’m not the one you really wanted to talk to about this, or that you’re here to help me with my project,” he jerks his thumb back at the mansion. “Five years and I’ve only got about two-hundred of the floors built.” He shakes his head, hands resting on his hips. “Turns out, nine-hundred and fourteen is a lot. Go figure.”

“Nine-hundred and fourteen?” Willy looks up at the never-ending mansion. 

“I told Clem it’d take me a long time to finish this thing. Then again, I am damn proud of the two-hundred I have now. Besides, it’s going a lot quicker with the others helping out more recently.” 

“The others?”

Louis nudges him with his foot, saying, “C’mon.” 

Willy takes his hand, letting himself be pulled up as Rosie groans, disturbed of her rest. They stare out over the lake, now glossy and glimmering with the rising sun.

“Over there,” Louis points. 

It’s the largest oak tree Willy’s ever seen- one with a tire swing attached and what looks like a treehouse under construction. Hell, the biggest damn treehouse he’s ever seen, too. Perfectly placed in the middle, it almost looks like someone built the base of a house, picked it up, and plopped it up in the tree only to find out it’s the perfect fit. 

How did he not see that before?

Louis wraps an arm around his shoulders and guides him closer, Rosie following close behind. 

“Looks pretty good, huh?” 

“It’s huge!” Willy marvels. “Did you build this, too?”

“Nope.”

“Geoff?”

That gets a loud laugh of out him. “No, not Geoff.”

There’s movement, a shadowed figure passing by one of the unfinished windows. Boot heels click against the wood above them, accompanied by unintelligible grumbling. Something metal drops, clanking against something so familiar- a toolbox?

“Shit!”

Willy comes to an abrupt halt at the curse, lips parting in a hitched gasp. He stares up at Louis with wide, bewildered eyes, questioning his sanity more so than ever now. Just to ground himself again, Willy grabs ahold of Louis shirt- it’s really there, the fabric in his hands- as he waits, gazing up at the treehouse. 

More footsteps, then the pounding of a hammer. 

“He put his heart and soul into this,” Louis says. “Keeps pretty busy up there most days.” 

“...Really?”

“Yeah,” Louis grins. “He won’t admit it, but he’s been hoping you’d come visit for a while now.”

Willy goes to speak but finds his mouth dry and tongue heavy. 

Regardless, Louis gives him a knowing look and pulls his arm back, leaving Willy’s shoulders feeling much colder against the wind. 

“You shouldn’t keep him waiting. He could use the company, I think.”

With that, he turns to walk back as panic shoots through Willy’s spine.  

“Wait, Louis?” he calls after him. 

“Hm?”

Willy finds he can’t hold his gaze, instead choosing to peer down at the caked mud stuck to his feet. 

“You… you’re not-”

“I know, Willy.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”

“Who cares how long it’s been? I still feel sorry that it happened. I just…” Willy finally looks at him. “I wanted to tell you that Clem- Clem really misses you,” he murmurs. “AJ, too. And Tenn, he still draws pictures of you and Clem together... here, I think. I don’t know, but he really misses you, too, and so does Violet, and-”

That glow Louis had about him dulls, just a bit, as his expression becomes darker, sadder. He blinks several times in an attempt to compose himself, to hide that gloss to his eyes. 

“I know, buddy. I miss you all, too,” he finally says, offering a genuine, but dejected smile. “Now, go.”

“Yeah, yeah I will.”

He claps, gaining Rosie’s full attention. 

“C’mon, Rosie! You’re slackin’ again! This place isn’t going to build itself! Hop to it! We’ve still got seven-hundred floors to go!”

Rosie barks.

“Excuse me! Seven-hundred and fourteen! Can’t forget the fourteen! Clementine will have my hide if we forget the fourteen!”

She peers up at Willy one last time, panting and licking her lips. Willy moves back down to her, hugging her to him as she whimpers.

“You’re the bestest girl in the whole world,” Willy tries to keep his voice calm, but it comes out as more of a croak. “Goodbye, Rosie...” He presses a kiss against her forehead, which she returns with a lick on his cheek. 

Willy lets her go, watching her trot off after Louis.  

Together they get back to work on the mansion. 

Willy lingers to soak in that image of Louis to replace the real one he had, the one that was a blur, and to remember Rosie as a dog with nothing but youth and love coursing in her veins.

“Shit-” 

His hands cover his face as he takes long, shuddering breaths. 

The hammering above him grows louder. 

Willy sniffles, mumbling, “Stop it, stop...” 

He’s not a child anymore. He can’t go up there like this. No, he needs to get his shit together and show that he’s grown up now. He needs to act his size. 

One deep breath after another, Willy calms his heavy, racing heart and faces the treehouse again. Thick planks of wood secure against the trunk of the massive tree create a ladder to the opening beneath the structure. 

With another heavy inhale, Willy begins his climb. While this isn’t the longest tree he’s ever made his way up, it’s still the biggest. He didn’t know a tree’s trunk could grow like this. The ones surrounding Ericson are twigs compared to this monster.

The pounding of the hammer is close, nearly vibrating through the wooden pieces. Once he reaches the top, Willy cautiously peeks over the edge of the opening. 

It’s...

It’s set up to resemble the basement, with a workbench and several cases with shelves adorning various tools, toys, books, weapons, and other supplies. However, unlike the basement, it’s bright and open with plenty of space to move around and work in. The glassless windows let in the morning sun to heat the floor and illuminate the center of the place. When he pulls himself up more, he spots a couch with a brand new guitar pressed against it, and posters of various bands and movies cover the walls, all with graffiti smeared over them. 

The hammering stops as a string of incoherent grumbles hum behind him. 

Willy’s breath hitches when he turns. 

Down on his hands and knees in the doorway of the treehouse, Mitch checks the sturdiness of the frame, grasping and giving it a jerk. When it doesn’t move, he nods to himself and moves to the other side. 

Willy’s hands shake violently, even when he balls them into fists. Scrambling to his feet, careful to mind the opening as he moves in closer. 

“Mitch?”  

The hammering stops again. 

Neither of them moves. 

Willy can see Mitch glance at him from the corner of his eye. Then, he slowly turns on his heels to face him. 

He’s exactly how Willy remembers; fair skin adorned with various freckles, dark hair that falls around the nape of his neck and hides his forehead, broad shoulders and long legs, a dimple in his chin, a scar along his right hand...

It’s even the same shape and color, crossed around the back of his hand and up his wrist. He got it when one of Willy’s traps malfunctioned, nearly dropping a log on him before Mitch yanked him out of the way. The force of it sent them flying back into their supplies where one of the arrows sliced up his hand. They were lucky it didn’t go through, but it still brought on overwhelming guilt every time Willy looked at it, no matter how many times Mitch said he’d rather have a fucked up hand instead of the alternative. 

Yet another thing Willy did to hurt him...

“Holy shit,” Mitch breathes out. 

He stands, letting the hammer drop to crash against the wood. 

Willy’s eyes burn as he swallows the lump in his dry, sore throat. He has to bite his lip to still his trembling chin, screaming in his mind to hold himself together. 

Mitch steps closer into the warm light, eyeing him up and down in disbelief, gaze widening and brows furrowing. 

 “Holy shit…” he repeats. “Look at you.”

When he’s close enough, Willy realizes that for the first time he can look Mitch straight in the eye without any trouble, a jarring contrast to five years ago when he would jump on the furniture and pretend he towered over him and everyone else.

Mitch smirks.

“Told’ja you wouldn’t be small forever.” 

Willy smiles wide enough to cause a strain in his cheeks, barring all of his crooked teeth. 

“Yeah, you did,” he shakes his head. “Should’ve listened to you.”

Willy tries to memorize everything he can of Mitch’s face but looks away when heat begins to threaten his eyes again. He twitches, wanting to throw himself at Mitch and hold him, sob into his chest like he did when he was little, when the world ended and they were abandoned. 

He doesn’t- can’t.

Instead, Willy holds out his trembling hand. 

“I- I’m happy to see you.”

Mitch cocks a brow at the gesture, but takes it silently, giving a firm shake. 

His skin feels real, his warmth soaking into Willy’s and it boggles his mind. He tightens his grip, shaking back. 

Mitch chuckles, rolling his eyes. 

Before Willy can question it, he’s jerked forward and enveloped by Mitch’s arms around his shoulders. Stunned, he stands there as Mitch presses a hand against the back of his head, smoothing out his hair, and grumbling, “No need to be so formal, old man. I’m happy to see you, too.”

“...You hate hugs.”

"You’re an exception.” 

With that, Willy allows himself to wrap his arms around Mitch’s waist and hug him back tightly. 

When it’s time to pull away, he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want Mitch to see the tears threatening to spill over or the quiver in his chin. 

“C’mon,” Mitch pulls him out the doorway and onto a porch. “Come sit with me for a while.”

 The sun’s higher in the sky now, burning orange within the lavender sky, illuminating the world much more than before. From out here, they can hear Louis and Rosie singing again. 

They sit together at the end of the porch, letting their legs dangle over the edge. Willy peers down, realizing just how high up they are. Not that he’s afraid of heights of anything, but something about being this close to falling makes him nervous, so he scoots closer to Mitch.

“Rosie hit you pretty hard, huh?” he asks. 

Willy’s quiet, watching the dog in question bring Louis a new paintbrush. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he sighs. “When she showed up here, we were all worried about it, about you and Tenn and AJ and whatnot. Didn’t know how you’d take it.”

“We didn’t have a choice.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s better this way, though, and I know how shitty that is to hear right now, but it’s true. Keepin’ her around in the state she was would’ve been cruel.” 

“I know.”

“You’re gonna be okay.”

“I know.”

“Willy.”

He meets Mitch’s eye. 

“...What else?”

“What?”

“You’ve got more on your mind than Rosie.”

 Of course, he does, how could he not? 

Mitch- real or not- is there beside him for the first time since the delta attack so long ago. 

Willy’s glance falls down to Mitch’s throat. There’s no wound, no blood, not even a scar as if what happened to him was only a nightmare. 

Like Louis, Mitch has another worldly glow about his skin, a light in his stare, something so real that Willy finds himself at a loss. He wants to believe that he’s here- actually, physically here- and that everything around him is true. 

Except it’s not.

“When we were saying our goodbyes to Rosie, I kept thinking about you,” Willy starts. “Kept telling myself not to cry because you wouldn’t. You’d be strong and pull through it, just like you used to whenever we lost someone. But, I couldn’t keep it in.”

He looks to his hands in shame. 

“I thought I was done crying... done being small.”

“You’re not small anymore.”

Mitch stretches out one of his legs, nudging him to do the same. Their legs reach out the length, almost. Actually, comparing them this way, Willy’s reach is farther. 

“Somethin’ always told me you’d outgrow me,” Mitch mumbles. “Damn.” 

“Really?”

“Really,” Mitch grins. “So, stop callin’ yourself small.”

“Can’t help it. Still feel that way, like I’m not doing everything I can for everyone. They’re all sad, but Aasim’s still taking care of the rabbits and Ruby’s still running the greenhouse. Violet’s damn near blind and Clem has no leg and they’re doing more than me.”

“Willy, that’s bullshit. You’ve stepped up a lot, fixed a lot of things I never got the chance to, made things more secure for everyone. I always knew ya had that in you. And the shit with the delta? Who built that bomb? You did. You helped kill those fuckers and stop them from ever bothering our home ever again.”

"...I did do that.”

Mitch chuckles. “Felt that explosion from here, y’know.” He knocks his fist against Willy’s shoulder. “Hell of a bomb, kid. Couldn’t’ve done it better myself.”

Something swells around Willy’s heart, something comforting.

“Seriously,” he adds.”I wasn’t right about everything and I said and did some stupid shit, but I wasn’t ever wrong about you. Yeah, Rosie’s gone and that sucks, but you know what? You’re gonna be sad for a while and then you’ll be better. Thing’s’ll get back to normal, just like they always do. You’ll get into that flow again, building traps and making weapons, just like how I taught you.” 

The words sink in slowly just as something bubbles in Willy’s throat. He turns to Mitch again, studying his serious face. It’s the same one he used to make whenever Willy beat himself up over messing up a trap or whenever he missed a shot while hunting. The face that said, “Don’t sweat it, you’ll get better.”

“...What do you know? You’re dead.”

He doesn’t mean for that to slip out, or for it to be so harsh, but the effect on both of them is instant. Mitch’s frown deepens, his brows furrowing as his eyes become dark, slipping shut as he takes a deep breath. 

"Yeah,” Mitch nods. “Been dead for a while now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m talking about or that you shouldn’t listen to me.”

“It means you’re not really here.”

“So what?”

“So, none of this is real. Not you, not Rosie, not Louis, not the sun, not the treehouse, nothing. You’re dead and I...”

Mitch grabs his wrist, squeezing tightly. 

“Then pretend it is and hear what I’m telling you. You’re better than this. What happened to me wasn’t your fault, or Tenn’s, or anybodys. Hell, if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” his shoulders slump, defeated, “realized that one a little too late.”

He loosens his grip.

“Left you a lot sooner than I ever wanted to,” Mitch admits. “Always said I’d be there, y’know. Told’ja I’d make sure nothing ever got you, that you’d always have something to eat and wear and fight with-.”

“Why?” Willy interrupts without thought.

“Why what?”

“Why’d you do all that? Why were you always so nice to me?” Willy asks. While he knows this isn’t real, he still finds himself desperate for an answer. “I was just a weird kid who did stupid, gross stuff. You never had to take care of me, but you did. I should’ve been better than that.”

“Willy-”

“I should’ve done more so that I wasn’t slowing you down or wasting your time. If I was stronger then, or smarter, or faster, I could’ve helped save Tenn and then you wouldn’t have died!” With each breath he takes, the words come faster and angrier. “Then, we could’ve made that bomb and blew those assholes up together!”

The tears finally overflow, dripping down his cheeks and onto his shorts. Wiping his nose on the back of his hand, he twists himself around and leaves the edge of the porch, struggling to his feet.

Chirps of passing birds catch Mitch’s attention for a brief second, his face falling before he rushes from the porch to follow Willy back inside the tree house. 

“Hey-”

“No,” Willy shakes his head. “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to be a burden, Mitch, and now you’re gone and I can’t even- I can’t even thank you or tell you I’m sorry or how much I miss you-”  

The chirping grows louder, the birds landing outside the door and looking in. Mitch turns to glare at them, hissing out, “In a minute!”

The floorboards beneath Willy’s feet suddenly feel unstable, like one wrong move and he could fall through. The weight of his our head is too heavy for his shoulders, falling forward for him to drip his tears, staining the wood. 

“Willy,” Mitch’s voice is softly melancholic. “It’s time to wake up.”

“I- I know.”

“Listen, I-” Mitch pauses, gaze falling to the ground as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I never got to say this because, uhm, y’know... Shit, Willy, you weren’t just some kid I looked after, you know that, right? You have to know that.”

Willy says nothing. He doesn’t think he can.

“I had a lot of brothers, you know. Real ass hats. Didn’t miss them for too long after everything went to shit... but I had you.”

Fingers grasp his shoulder, and he’s being turned around. Once again, blinking back tears he stares straight into Mitch’s eyes, his vivid green eyes that hold an eternity of life in them. 

“I never cared if you were weird or if you did stupid shit. I was weird and did stupid shit, too. You were fun and silly and I liked talking with you and I liked the way you used to follow me around like- like I was some sort of hero. You just- you were so little and scared out of your mind and I knew I had to step up and help you, because if I didn’t, you wouldn’t’ve made it and I couldn’t live with myself if you ever got bit or killed or whatever. You meant too much to me.”

Now he holds both of his shoulders, never once breaking their locked gazes. 

“You were never a burden, Willy. You were more of a brother to me than my own blood, and I’m sorry that I can’t be there for you anymore. But, I need you to take care of yourself and the others, okay? I need you to grow even taller than you are now, and live until you’re eighty-years-old-”

“Eighty?”

“At least,” Mitch chuckles. “Think you can do that for me?”

“...What about after that?”

“After you hit eighty?”

“Yeah.”

“Then... then you and I can build a nine-hundred and fifteen-story house across the lake, just to piss Louis off.”

Through his tears, Willy laughs, sniffling and asking, “What color?”

“Up to you.”

Willy’s vision becomes spotty, colors fusing together around black blobs. 

“Orange,” he says. “Let’s paint it orange.” 

“Orange it is,” Mitch sighs, smile falling in sorrow. “If... if you ever need to, come see me again. We can hide out here and sit and talk, or carve some shit. Or, y’know, it wouldn’t kill ya to write...” He grumbles that last part.

“What?”

“Nevermind,” he shakes his head. “Time to go, Willy. You’ve got morning watch.”

Willy takes a step towards him, throwing his arms around his shoulders and giving him one final hug. Mitch doesn’t hesitate, holding him back.

“Thank you.” 

“Make me proud, okay?”

“I will,” Willy sniffles. “Sorry I yelled at you. And cried.”

“Don’t be.”

Willy clings to his shirt. 

“Goodbye, Mitch...”

He lets go.

Willy watches him through sore, teary eyes as Mitch moves to the doorway, stepping into the light.

“Love you, kiddo,” Mitch murmurs. “No matter what, remember that, okay?”

With that, he fades away. 

[mydarlingvioletine]

“Getting Better at Being Romantic” - A Violetine Ficlet

Media: The Walking Dead Game (Season 4)

Pairing(s): Violet / Clementine, with some background Ruby / Aasim

                 Violet's never been one for those cutesy pet names.

She glanced over Ruby and Aasim’s heads to Clementine, who was also watching the new couple exchange some sappy lines. Clem met Violet's eyes and smiled shyly, the fire they were sitting around illuminating her soft features. Violet responded by pretending to gag at the overwhelmingly cute couple, to which Clem giggled.

           Ruby's head immediately turned to face Violet, her signature pout forming as she saw what Violet was doing.

        "What's the matter, Vi? Jealous of how cute we are?" Ruby asked, tilting her head and sending Aasim into a blushing fit.

"Pfft, no. Just kinda reminds me of how Marlon talks to Rosie." Violet snarkily replied, earning an angry "hey!" from Aasim. 

       Ruby rolled her eyes, cupping Aasim's embarrassed face in her hands. "You love something, you make damn sure it knows."

Clementine glanced at them, a thoughtful expression across her face. Her expression quickly shifted to a mischievous one, one that Violet was all too familiar with.

           Clementine stretched her arms out and yawned, a smirk on her face as she raised her arms over her head. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, and raised an eyebrow at Violet.

"C'mon dear, we've got lookout duty in a bit." As soon as the word left her mouth, Louis perked up his head from his book, a huge annoying grin on his face.

          Violet blinked a bunch, face reddening as Ruby and Aasim joined in on the giggling. Clementine proudly looked at Violet's blushing face, easily spotted due to the warm light from the fire.

                   "Aw, Violet. Don't be mad, we can go on some cheesy double dates together!" Ruby chirped up, "Oh! Have you guys ever been to a drive-in? Man, I miss going to those. Every Saturday night, my dad would take us out to one. I'd sit up on top of the car roof and just watch whatever was on for hours. Didn't have to be PG. Hell, they didn't even have to be English. I loved 'em all. My big sis went on a couple dates there. Sat in the back of her pickup truck with blankets and pillows, and just snogged with her boyfriend..."

   Ruby continued to be engulfed in her memory, not even noticing that Violet had begun walking away, head low and one arm seemingly holding the other one to her side. Louis and Aasim wistfully recalled their own memories, giving Clementine enough cover to follow Violet without being noticed.

Violet sat down next to Rosie on the steps, one hand fidgeting with the bottom of her jacket, and the other gently petting the top of Rosie's head.

        "Hey, what's up?" Clementine sat next to her, leaning against her and snaking an arm around her to pet Rosie.

Violet looked up, gave a small smile and gently placed her hand on top of Clem's. "Nothing. It's just kinda weird."

  ��                                                   "What is?"

        "It's just.. Uh.. I've never been on the receiving end of that cutesy shit. The PDA. It's weird." Violet quietly admitted, a stray piece of hair falling from behind her ear, casting a shadow helping to hide her awkwardness. 

             "Not even with Minnie?" Clem asked softly, to which Violet snorted and shook her head. 

    "Well, we've gotta get you used to that, honey bun." Clementine almost cringed herself from the sappiness of the title, but was taken aback by a blush covering Violet's face, which she then buried into Clem's sweater.

A squeaky muffled voice from Violet went "stop", but Clem could feel the smile through the thin, worn fabric. 

Clementine wrapped her other arm around her, pulling her into a close hug. Placing her chin on top of Violet's head, she looked over at Louis and Aasim listening to Ruby. "So... no pet names?" Clem whispered, locking eyes with Louis, who gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. At first, Louis had tried to be subtle about his support, but he was incapable of keeping his happiness to himself.

                                             "No pet names."

                                          "You don't like them."

         "I don't like them. Gross. Disgusting. I am absolutely repulsed." Violet's warm breath tickled Clementine's neck. A giggle escaped from her, which she quickly tried to smother, but it was too late.

       "Riiiiiight, okay." Clem sneered, glancing up to see Mitch and Willy descend from the tower and start heading towards them. "C'mon, it’s time."

Clementine stood up, watching as Violet scratched Rosie's head, getting a slobbery lick on the face from Rosie as thanks. Violet immediately reeled back, grabbing at the handkerchief that her grandmother had given her, and tried to wipe the slobber off her face. 

                                       “Gross... Gross! Bleh.”

              “Vi, I’ve watched you smear walker guts all over yourself. Rosie kisses are a gift that one must accept with open arms.” Clementine giggled as Violet threw the soggy handkerchief over her shoulder.

“You let her slobber all over you then.” Violet retorted, trying and failing to tug Clem towards the source of the slobber. “Come on, I’m sure she’s a better kisser than you are.”

                                            “Oh, yeah?”

                                                “Yeah.”

“Your turn, dorks.” Mitch greeted, crossing his arms and looking down at the two. “Make sure you take breaks when you’re smooching up there. At least actually do your job for... I don’t know.. 10 minutes out of your 4 hour shift?”

       Clem snorted, as Violet ignored Mitch and kept petting Rosie. "Shut up, dummy." Clementine elbowed Mitch, while Willy giggled uncontrollably.

  Clem rolled her eyes and ducked down to whisper to Violet. "Let's go, sweetie."

Violet immediately sprung up, startling Rosie. "You motherfuc-"

           "Swear!" AJ shouted at the top of his lungs from across the courtyard, pretty much deafening Tenn beside him.

       Violet lunged after her girlfriend, but she narrowly escaped her grasp, smiling wider than Violet had ever seen her.

                                      Violet does not like pet names.

        It was around 3 in the morning when Omar rushed inside to tell everyone about the herd of walkers making their way towards the gate. Clementine, tired and disheveled, stumbled out the door and into the front yard, almost tripping over Rosie.

"About time you got up." Violet giggled at the sight of bed-head and droopy-eyed Clementine, her weapon of choice slung over her shoulder. "Full of energy, my ass."

          The playful flirting was interrupted by the loud screech of the gates being pushed open by Marlon. "Let's get this shit over with so we can all go back to sleep," Marlon grumbled, picking up his bow. "Clem, you're with me, Aasim, and Brody. While Vi and Lou protect the gates and take out the ones in the front, we're going to make our way behind them and start slicing through them. Y'know, sandwich style."

Violet shot a worried glance towards Clementine, then reached out to grab her hand. She was always taken aback by how soft Clementine's hands were, despite everything. "Be careful, okay?"

         "I'll be alright. See you in a bit, babe." Clem grinned and quickly kissed Violet’s cheek. By the time Violet had time to register the interaction, Clem had disappeared into the herd with Marlon. Violet shook her head, keeping her eyes on the walkers ahead of her so she wouldn’t have to face Louis and his big dumb grin.

                                                        “Don’t.”

                                                                  “Wouldn’t dream of it, Vi.”

“How does Rosie know to look into our eyes? D’you think she knows the function of our eyes and can connect it with her own? I haven’t seen her ever look in a mirror. That’s weird.”

               “Clementine. I have patrol duty first thing in the morning. Please, for the love of Omar’s cooking, let me go back to sleep.” Violet groaned, wrapping the pillow around her head to try and drown out her girlfriend’s 2 AM discoveries.

                      “Mmm, I can’t sleep either.” Violet heard the clunk of two feet hitting the floor, then softly walking towards her. “There’s a draft above my bed. Scooch over.” Violet sighed, lifting her sheets so Clem could slide next to her. Clementine was warm as hell, but Violet didn’t say anything. Clem was like her own personal space heater, which was helpful for nights like this one.

Violet buried her face into the back of Clem’s hair, dropping the ‘I’m annoyed’ facade to cuddle her girlfriend. Sleepovers between the two had become a much more common occurrence lately, since Tenn and AJ insisted on sleeping in the same room to draw and play action figures until they passed out when they both had the next morning free. 

        Happy with her victory, Clementine relaxed her muscles, practically melting into her girlfriend’s arms. The gentle happy humming coming from Clem was enough to make Violet forget all about her morning shift, only a couple hours away.

Clem’s soft, sleepy voice broke the silence.

                                                   “G’night, Vi.”

Violet squeezed her arms around Clem’s waist, earning a happy squeak from her girlfriend. Violet didn’t consider herself a sentimental type, but damn, something about Clementine stirred something new in her. Kinda like gratefulness, but kinda not. It was moments like these where Violet just imagined that Clem was the only thing in this world. That nothing existed outside that door. No walkers. No murder-hungry ex girlfriends. No danger. No morning patrols. Nothing that could ever take Clementine away from her. She was absolutely head over heels and love for the dork in her arms who licked salt lamps when she thought nobody was watching.

                                           “Goodnight, beautiful.”

As soon as the word left Violet’s mouth, she wrenched her arm out from under Clem and cupped it over her mouth, as if she could shove the word back in. 

Too late.

Clementine gave an exaggerated gasp, sat up and turned quickly to face Violet, a dorky smile on her face that almost rivaled Louis’. A rush of heat crossed Violet’s face, as her girlfriend beamed down at her.

                                           “Heard that!”

“Dunno what you’re talking about.” Violet retorted, throwing the blankets over her face to hide her blush. “Go back to sleep.”

Clem snorted, lowering herself to plant a kiss on Violet’s exposed forehead. “Whatever, dork.” She lifted the cover over herself to push up against Violet, placing her hand across her chest.

                            Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum.

“Don’t even think about telling Ruby.” Violet whispered, placing her hand atop Clementine’s. When Clementine didn’t immediately reply and resumed her low humming, Violet squeezed her hand. “Please? I’ve got a reputation to keep.”

                                                                      “Wouldn’t dream of it, Vi.”

[eretzyisrael]

The most important element of the story is the fact that two American congresswomen shunned a bipartisan congressional delegation to Israel to go on an independent trip to Israel sponsored by vicious anti-Semites. Another important element of the story is that, as of today, the mainstream media have whitewashed Omar and Tlaib’s vile associations.

Writing yesterday, the Washington Post said that “Omar and Tlaib’s trip to Jerusalem and the West Bank was planned by Miftah, a nonprofit organization headed by Palestinian lawmaker and longtime peace negotiator Hanan Ashrawi.” The New York Times described it as an organization “headed by a longtime Palestinian lawmaker.” In its editorial, the New York Times editorial board identified it as a group “that promotes ‘global awareness and knowledge of Palestinian realities.’”

This is a whitewash. Thanks to a Twitter thread from the Washington Examiner’s Seth Mandel — who pointed to multiple additional sources — I started looking at the articles and views published on the Miftah website, and it was like peeling an onion of evil. There was layer upon layer of vile anti-Semitism.

First, the group actually published blood libel, posting an article that accused “the Jews [of using] the blood of Christians in the Jewish Passover.” When pro-Israel bloggers condemned the article, Miftah first claimed that the attacks against the piece were part of a “smear campaign” and minimized the reference to blood libel as merely “briefly addressed.”

It was just a light sprinkling of blood libel. Move along, nothing to see here.

The organization later issued a more complete apology, but we’ve barely gotten started with this vile group. It’s also published an American neo-Nazi treatise called “Who Rules America: The Alien Grip on Our News and Entertainment Media Must Be Broken” (archived here).

[maybemitch]

I LOVE YOU

DESCRIPTION: I love you.

WARNING: Events of episode 3.

WORD COUNT: 1319

Just a heads up, I have never wrote a ship oneshot before, so this is new to me. So i hope you enjoy it.

[the sections which have the song lyrics before them are flashbacks. the ones which the bolded first letter at present] - the song is i love you billie eilish

━━━⋆☆⋆━━━

The music room was dim. The only source of light was the green painted jam jars with tea lights in them. Louis had two of the jar illuminating his piano, allowing him to see which keys to press.

Aasim sat on the couch in the music room, his journal open in his lap, the pen in between his teeth as he thought of something to write. He hummed along to the tune which Louis played on the piano. The song had grew to be one of his favourites, especially considering the way which Louis played it. Louis added his own little twist, making it more memorable for him.

Louis ended up pressing the wrong key, an awful sound messed up the song he played. He let out a small huff as he looked down to the keys in disappointment, before he started to play the song again from the beginning.

Aasim quickly looked up from his journal, his eyes lingering on the back of Louis. He smiled at the male. Louis had been through recently, losing his best friend, being kidnapped, having his tongue cut out, but he was still always optimistic and full of joy. Delta never took that away from him.

Aasim sighed contently as he watched Louis, his journal forgotten. He allowed his mind to wander, to the memories which he shared with Louis over the years, some where happy and some were sad. Yet, they all meant something to him.

Maybe won’t you take it back?

Say you were tryna make me laugh

And nothing has to change today

You didn’t mean to say ‘I love you’

Louis’ shoulders shook as he laughed, his chair leg swinging at his side. His mouth was held in a permanent smile as he watched Aasim walk in front of him, shaking his head at another ‘stupid’ joke.

“Come on,” Louis spoke in between laughter, watching the back of Aasim’s head, “That joke wasn’t that bad.”

Aasim quickly looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the male, “That one was worse than the badger joke you told me two days ago.”

Louis took a small jog up to Aasim’s side, grinning down at him, he punched him playful with his free arm, “You love my jokes, Sim. Don’t lie, everyone knows you love my jokes.”

Aasim scoffed as he shook his head, continuing to walk down the trail. He looked up to Louis, a small smile forming in his lips, “Some of your jokes are good. Then some of them don’t even make sense,” he paused as he came to a stop so he could look at Louis properly, “And some of them are about me, which I find rude at times.”

Louis tilted his head, “I don’t joke about you,” he was confused, he never joked about Aasim and he wouldn’t dream of it. Louis frowned, “You know I love you right? I wouldn’t dream of joking about you.”

Aasim didn’t say a word to him. He was too busy processing the fact that Louis had told him that he loved him. It was never clarified on how Louis loved him. Louis was only saying it to make him laugh right?

So, rather than speaking, Aasim nodded his head. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself and say he loves him back, in case he faces pure rejection. And also, he didn’t want to lose his friendship with Louis.

Louis smiled as he playfully punched Aasim, “Glad to know that you know how I feel about you then.”

The smile that you gave me

Even when felt like dying

Aasim physically felt his heart drop in his chest when the gut-wrenching sounds of Louis being tortured stopped. He could feel his throat clenching, hurting whenever he gulped. He felt a tear trickle on his cheek, causing a hand to swiftly move up, rubbing it away. Aasim didn’t want Omar to see him cry.

Louis’ cell door swung open, Dorian left, shaking her head as she moodily locked the door back up. She spat insults out about the teenage boy, before making her way down the corridor, sending an evil glare in Aasim’s direction.

Aasim waited until he couldn’t hear Dorain anymore, before he clung to the rusting door. His forehead rested up against the bars, his eyes clenched shut as he composed himself. He didn’t know what to expect.

Aasim opened his mouth, a small shaky breath leaving it, as he tighten his hands around the bars, some of the rust began stabbing his hands. “Lou?” he whispered.

He kept his eyes shut as he lifted his head. Aasim pushed himself up on his tiptoes, trying to see further into Louis’ cell. “Lou?” He whispered again in more desperation, a tear rolling down his face as the nickname rolled from his tongue.

Aasim frowned when Louis’ head popped up at the door. The male in the other cell, pulled himself up, revealing the blood which surrounded his mouth. A gasp left Aasim’s lips, his heart breaking even more. “W-what? I-I’m sorry, Lou.”

Pain glistened in Louis’ brown eyes, a force smile made its way to his lips as he watched Aasim. Louis was trying to be strong, yet Aasim knew it was a façade.

Aasim breathed, shaking his head at the boy, more tears falling, “I’m so sorry Lou. I’m sorry.” He cried quietly.

Aasim closed his journal slowly as he stood up. He placed it gently down on the couch before walking up behind Louis. Placing a gentle hand on Louis shoulder he smiled, Louis slowly turned his head, to look at Aasim’s hand.

Louis stopped playing the song as he slide up the bench. His hand patted the wooden seat for Aasim, urging him to sit down with him. Aasim sat for him. Louis looked at Aasim’s hands and then to the ivory keys. Aasim knew what Louis was saying, he wanted him to join him.

“You know I can’t play piano, Lou,” Aasim chuckled. Louis raised an eyebrow at him before pointing to the key which Aasim needed to press. “Press all the keys you point to?”

Louis nodded his head as he pointed at the key still, smiling when Aasim finally did it. He moved to the next, and Aasim pressed it. Louis held a grin on his face as he watched Aasim play the piano, he might not be the best at it, but practice makes perfect.

Aasim kept chuckling to himself as he watched Louis point to a new key all the time. He never expected this was the way he’d learn piano.

“Lou?” Aasim whispered when they finally stopped with the piano for a moment. Louis turned to look at him, a questioning look on his face, “Do you remember when we was hunting together? And you told me you loved me?”

Louis slowly nodded his head. Louis remembered that day quite clearly in his head.

Aasim gulped as he played with his hands, “W-well... Did... did you mean it?” His eyes were down, he was nervous to find the answer out.

Louis placed a finger under Aasim’s chin, brining their eyes to meet. Louis once again slowly nodded his head. Louis did mean it. He did love Aasim.

“You did mean it?” Aasim asked again as Louis nodded his head at a faster rate. Aasim smiled.

Louis frowned before pointing at Aasim.

You? Aasim was confused.

Ignoring the confused expression, Louis kept doing what he planned. He made his hands into heart.

Heart. Love? Aasim knew where this was going.

Louis ended it by pointing at himself.

Aasim smiled, ‘you love me?’ was what Louis had asked him.

He slowly nodded his head, Louis watching his every move. “I think so. Yeah.” Louis raised his eyebrows, he wanted to hear him say it in the correct way. Aasim sighed, “I love you too.”

[ciaragorgeous]

My ideal Child’s Play (2019) (WARNING: LOADS OF TEXT)

I enjoyed the film unlike most people, but it could’ve been better imo

Here’s what I’d do if I directed the film.

Loads of changes, controversial or not, ahoy!

============================

* The film is at least two hours, the hour and a half runtime we got is my biggest issue. There’s also a ‘director’s cut’ that’s 30 minutes longer.

* Andy’s friends are friendlier and interact with him and Chucky more. They weren’t handled well in the actual film and the runtime wasted any potential for extra character development.

* Chucky’s design was good for the most part, but it does look pretty eh in some scenes. I’d change his design so he looks cute for the first half but as the film progresses he becomes less so and more like that one shot in the film where Andy’s screaming about Shane.

* Karen is Andy’s sister instead of his mom and they have more interactions. She feels more like a sibling to Andy than a mother and, being a reboot of Child’s Play, would work well as something different.

* Isn’t Mike supposed to be Omar’s dad? I’m pretty sure he is, and I’d have them interact more. I’d also make Mike a more serious character during the second and third acts as he begins to figure out who he thinks is doing the killings.

* Omar is presented as a nicer character who is under the bad influence of his other friends who are utter douche bags. We see character development for him as he slowly begins to side with Andy’s friends.

* More emotional scenes with Chucky during the first and second acts to show that he’s becoming more aware of his surroundings. Instead of leaving Chucky to hug the bear, Andy comforts him and warns him again not to hurt others (while making some accidental, indirect comment about bad people being an exception). Another scene shows Chucky struggling to connect with Kaplan’s products and being upset over it. Finally, there’s a scene where Omar’s douchebag friends harass Andy and kick Chucky.

* More kills, which get more sadistic and gruesome as the film progresses. Omar’s friends are killed by Chucky after Gabe (thrown out of a window, necks slit with Kaslan drones, etc), Doreen’s death is pretty much instant and inspired by the crash at the beginning of The Descent, lots more kills during the ZedMart scene, etc.

* Like Omar’s friends, kids aren’t safe from Chucky either. During the ZedMart scene we see some kids being murdered by Buddi 2 dolls.

* Andy’s friends help out during the final battle, destroying Buddi 2’s left and right. They, Andy and Mike (seemingly) destroy Chucky in a contrasting callback to Chucky being deactivated.

* Karen dies. I found it odd that she was hung for that long but somehow survived. How this would work, I’m not sure, but having Andy cry over her death with his friends by his side (another additional callback to the Chucky deactivation scene - instead of walking away they comfort Andy as they interacted with/cared for him too) in a similar vain to Bill finding Georgie’s jacket in IT.

* Chucky doesn’t swear until Omar’s douchebag friends first appear and encourage him to stab the unicorn toy. This is because Andy doesn’t swear that often until the second act when shit gets real.

* Stronger language is used, specifically “cunt”. Why? I don’t know, just to make the film ‘unique’ since the word is rarely used in movies. How Chucky starts using it? Not sure, but I’d want it to be his common swear word to show that he’s no longer the innocent, cute doll that wanted to make Andy happy.

* Chucky doesn’t go for Andy’s friends until after they deactivate him. He doesn’t really go after them in the film.

* Lots of ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ scenes of Gabe stalking or ‘hands in his pantsing’ to Karen to show how much of a unsettling, sick fuck he is. It’s also much more fucked up since Karen is younger here.

* The film has a more consistent tone, starting off slightly dark before going into a comedic and ‘family-friendly’ tone for the first half of the film. The emotional scenes gradually frequent by the end of the first act and are mixed fluently with the horror and black comedy during the second and third acts.

* LOADS of POV shots from Chucky, the film was lacking those and they could’ve been utilised well during the kill scenes and during the scene where Omar’s friends bully Andy and kick him.

* The soundtrack includes more emotional pieces and, like most elements in my ideal idea for this film, starts off bouncy and fun before gradually getting darker.

* The film’s ending is much more bittersweet thanks to Karen’s death and Chucky being alive in another body is given more foreshadowing. Other than that, it’s pretty much the same.

* Loads of little foreshadowing nods to the film’s climax (like Karen ‘hanging’ herself in the actual film) or one of Andy’s drawings (which is shown for a split second compared to the others) being a bear disembowelling a man.

* Other nitpicky details I won’t get into.

Those are the changes I’d make to Child’s Play (2019) if I were the director (or co-director).

Again, while I enjoyed the film and have it as my second favorite Child’s Play film behind the second one (Brad Dourif is a legend in that film and that climax!!! ❤️), the runtime, Andy’s friends and Chucky’s design (the latter being a minor issue) were kind of a let down.

————————————————————

One more, controversial idea.

Child’s Play (2019): DARKER CUT

========================

Obviously, a much darker, edgier (I hate saying that word) version of the film (my ideal idea for it, I mean, not the actual movie).

* It starts off like the actual film, but instead of sticking to a darkly comedic tone throughout it simply becomes more bleak and disturbing by the final act.

* Chucky speaks lesser as the film progresses.

* The kills are NC-17 level, very sadistic and gory with little to no comedy whatsoever. Lots of focus on the injuries.

* The film’s atmosphere goes from colorful and child-like to eerie and gritty.

* Despite Chucky’s increasing sadism and mute voice, he keeps his child-like design to show that despite his actions he’s still the Buddi doll that was once Andy’s friend.

* The latter half of the soundtrack takes cues from horror films such as Sinister. Specifically Sleepy Time ‘98 (Aghast - Sacrifice).

* The film’s ending is extremely dark, shuts down any potential for a sequel and cements its status as a stand-alone film.

Basically, Chucky succeeds in killing everyone but Andy. This includes his friends, his sister and Mike.

We’re treated to eerie, slow panning shots of Andy’s city, various buildings and their interiors, Andy’s apartment complex, schools, hospitals, the police station, other stores... all of which have dead bodies strewn everywhere. The obvious implication being that the Buddi 2s have escaped and killed everyone.

This is all set to Aghast’s Sacrifice, making the eerie shots all that more unsettling.

The final shot is of Andy (who went into a ‘PTSD’-like state thanks to seeing everyone including his friends dead) in the darkness of the now abandoned ZedMart with Chucky hugging him, his blue eyes being the only source of light as they illuminate Andy’s face.

As the camera slowly zooms out, Chucky’s eyes close, leaving him and Andy in complete darkness as the soundtrack fades and echoes out and the credits silently roll. The end.

————————————————————

So yeah, what do you guys think? I don’t normally post on here but I thought I’d share my ideas for this film.

[rainbows-fanfics]

New Goodbyes

Clementine's P.O.V.

The  sun was starting to set by the time we reached a road. I'm exhausted  from running. As the sweat falls from my forehead, I can feel my eyes  stinging and my throat burning. A cramp was starting to form in my leg,  so I sat down and rested it. When I looked up, I found Louis and A.J.  standing in front of me, out of breath and hunched over.

"Shit." Louis hissed through his teeth, peering at the setting sun just over the horizon. "We went farther than I thought."

"We had to. They were on our tail. We had no choice." I reminded him.

"Clem?"  A.J. approached me, hugging my side and shutting his eyes. "There were  so many...I couldn't keep up. Louis had to carry me."

I went to  thank him, but he wasn't paying any attention. He was focused on the  dimming sunlight, his eyebrows pinched together and his eyes narrowed.  He straightened himself and crossed his arms, kicking some nearby  pebbles and throwing his arms into the air exasperatedly. I can tell  just from his posture he's as tired as I am.

"Well, this is just   great. I have no idea where we are. We're farther than the safe zone,   that's for damn sure." He looked down at the dirt and frowned. "Looks   like everyone else got lost, too."

"We'll find them. They can't  be any farther from us." I looked around in search of any anyone. "A.J.?  You still have those binoculars?"

He took them out of his  pocket. "Yeah."

"Use them to look around. See if you find Willy, Tenn, or...anybody."

He  nodded and held them up to his eyes, standing on the road and looking  around. Louis sighed and plopped down beside me. From the corner of my  eye, I could see he was looking at my leg. I was clutching it in fear of  making the pain any worse. As much as I wanted to get on my feet and  look for our friends, I can't do anything but sit here until the aching  goes away.

"Sorry for losing it a bit there." He rubbed the back  of his neck. "I'm just a little worried since, you know, we've been  losing everybody lately..."

"I understand. We just got them back  but the herd was still big. We didn't know except to run for our lives.  It didn't help we were getting gunned down, too."

"To be honest, I have no idea how we all made it in one piece. Speaking of which, are you...okay?"

"Me? Yeah." I glanced down at the leg I was holding. "I must've strained a hamstring or something."

"Oh, shit. No wonder you kept slowing down."

"It'll pass. I just need time to...rest." I clenched my teeth just moving it a little. "What about yo-"

"Clem! I think I see someone!"

We  both perked up as A.J. alarmed us, passing me the binoculars and  pointing somewhere to my right. When I looked through them, I found a  small figure signalling with their arms. From this distance, it looked  like Omar. I smiled as I removed them and handed them back to A.J.,  going to get up but stopping once I felt my leg swell.

"Ah..fuck!"

"Here. I'll carry you." Louis offered, getting up and leaning to my level. I looked at him incredulously.

"Me? Are you serious? I'm heavier than A.J. is."

"Not like you have a choice, sweetheart."

Those  were the only words he said before picking me up by using one hand  behind my shoulders and the other cupped just under my knee. I was  brought up to his chest with ease. I heard the slight groan he made once  he was holding me, but when he got a better grip, he smiled. A.J.  started to lead us and he followed after, walking slowly and as close to  the road as possible. I was left staring at his face in awe, still  perplexed at the newfound knowledge that he can actually carry me.

He noticed my stare and chuckled. "You're looking at me like I just solved world hunger or something."

"I didn't think you could carry me."

"If I remember right, wasn't it you  who said you look for strength in a partner? Well, I'm here to sweep   you off your feet, end of the world or not." He winked at me again. My   cheeks turned crimson.

"Wow, really? Okay, Prince Charming. You have me in your arms. But only because I can't walk right now."

"I  was bound to carry you at some point anyway. Actually, what was it they  called this again? When two people get married and the groom carries  his bride? Oh, right. Bridal style."

I was flustered, for some god forsaken reason. I struggled just getting the words out of my mouth. "Wh- when did--"

"You two look like you're having fun."

We  both snapped our heads in the direction of the voice, only to see Omar  looking at us in return. He had his arms crossed and his lips formed  into a smile, his eyes scanning us up and down. The blush on my cheeks  grew as I attempted to get out of Louis' arms, but stopped when my leg  acted up again, letting out a pained noise.

Louis grit his teeth. "Yeah, she hurt her leg, I think. Where's the rest of you guys?"

"We  found this abandoned shack. Took shelter in it." He pointed behind him.  "The rest are in there right now. I think there's a bed she can lay  in."

"Thanks." I looked at A.J. and motioned to it. "You go ahead and scope it out for me, okay, kiddo?"

"Yes,  ma'am!" He exclaimed before running off. Omar followed after him. I was  left alone with Louis, who looked a little too happy to have me in his  arms for this long. I rolled my eyes until they reached the back of my  head.

"You can put me down now, you know."

"No, I don't  think so. You sounded horrible trying to wedge out of my grip." I felt  him hold on tighter. "I'll get you inside, okay? That's the least I can  do."

I smiled and let my hand rest on his chest, moving my head so it was laying on his shoulder. "Okay. That sounds good."

I  allowed him to take me inside and A.J. found us coming in. He held the  door open for us and closed it after. It was dark and the only source of  light right now was coming from outside of the windows. Well, from the  parts that weren't boarded up. I could hear someone around us lighting a  match but couldn't make out who. When a candle was lit, I heard Willy's  voice call out in triumph.

"Hell yeah!"

I made out a bed  in the left corner of the room now that it was illuminated. Louis found  it and brought me to it, laying me over the old, scratched up blankets.  I sighed in relief when the pressure was taken off my leg. As I rested   there, I could hear the rest of the kids talking. It looked like Omar,   Willy, Tennessee, Aasim, and Ruby made it in here. But Violet was   nowhere to be found.

"How long are we going to be in here? It reeks. I think something died somewhere." Aasim waved in front of his nose.

"Just  as long as we know they aren't searching for us. The ones that are  left, at least." Ruby responded. "Could be an hour, could be a day. We  just need to make sure."

"C-Can I have some water?" Tennessee  asked. Louis grabbed a bottle from a nearby shelf and looked it over  before handing it to him. "Than-thanks."

They all conversed some more but I found my eyes shutting before I could listen. I let the   fatigue of my body overcome my mind, and before I knew it, I couldn't   see anything but darkness. I relaxed on the mattress and fell asleep   listening to all of their voices.

---------------------------------------

I  was woken up by a small pair of hands shortly after. I opened my eyes  and looked around before finding A.J. by the side of the bed. His eyes  were wide and his hands were clenching the side of my arm tightly. I  recognized that look. It was when he saw something that wasn't good. I  returned it with a worried expression of my own.

"Is everything okay?" I asked. He looked behind him and bit his lower lip.

"No, Clem, there's...there's someone in the bathroom."

"Really?" I shot up in my bed.

I  looked around and found the room empty besides Aasim sitting across  from me with a book in his hands. I curled my body up until I could  slide my legs over the mattress. The pain was as good as gone now. I let  A.J. bring me to the back of the room and opened the door that was  slightly ajar.

I could hear everyone's voices from inside and saw  them huddling over a figure in the bathtub. I couldn't make out what  they looked like but attempted to see through their arms. It was then I  heard a different voice scream, sounding shakier than anyone else's.

"GET BACK! I will kill any of you if you get any fucking closer!"

Instinctively,  they all took a step back. Willy bumped into me and turned around. I  took this opportunity to slip in between the gap that was created and  look at who was inside. The sight made my mouth go agape and my jaw hang  in surprise. I was shocked when I recognized who it exactly was.

"...Christa?" I asked, softly.

The  figure's eyes turned to me slowly. That was all I needed to see. Their  mouth hung open as they registered the sight of me. I heard her voice  again, and that time I really knew who it was.

"Clementine?"

-------------------------------------------

"Okay,  you CAN'T be telling me this is a coincidence." Aasim gestured to the  bed, where Christa was currently resting. "Clementine knew who Lily was  and now she knows who this woman is. This...this HAS to be some sort of  plan or, or something."

"It's just a coincidence." I reply in return, glaring at him slightly. "Not everyone I've known has died."

"It is a little weird..." Tennessee added. "Is-Is she good?"

I  turned to my head to look at her again. Christa looked the same, but  was different at the same time. The last time I saw her was when she was  wearing a brown jacket with a white shirt. Now she was in a torn blue  jacket with a tank top underneath, which looked equally as worn. She had  no shoes on and her pants had holes everywhere. What looked the most  different was that she had her hair down now, her long strands blocking  the sight of her eyes every so often.

She looked tired. Defeated.  Like she's been through as much as I have after we got separated. It  was hard to find the Christa I once knew inside of her - something has  changed, but I had yet to know what it was.

"Okay then, uh, Christa, was it?" Aasim continued. "Just what are you doing here? And who are you working for?"

"No one. I'm working for no one." Her voice quivered. "This is my home. At least it was until you all barged in here."

Aasim  didn't look like he believed her. I shot everyone daggers in their  directions as I came to Christa's side on the bed, moving a chair so I  could sit next to her. A.J. was watching me intently in the background,  not saying a word.

"Christa, I can't believe you're alive. I  thought...I thought those scavengers killed you." I added regrettably,  "I never got to thank you for covering me."

"You're alive,   Clementine." She looked at me and smiled. The first time she's done that  since we came. "I thought you were dead, too..."

"What are you doing out here?"

She  looked away from me and at the floor. Everyone around us was watching  in silence, intrigued in my reunion with my old guardian. I was  especially surprised to find Louis standing to the side, completely  quiet. I'd have thought he'd make a comment by now. About something. Anything. The fact that he hasn't is making me uncomfortable.

"They  got me. I tried to run, but it wasn't any use. They cornered me on a  rock and I couldn't jump. There was a river. It was going so rapid..."  Her eyes looked completely drained. "I pleaded with them not to kill me.  And they were about to until one of them told me to come with them."

She  took a breath. I noticed her hands were shaking. I placed my hand on  her knee and she smiled in return, relaxing under my touch.

"They  brought me to their place and told me they were becoming bandits. Asked  me to join them." She sniffled. "I had to. They were going to kill me  if I refused. They made me do so many awful things. Steal from people.  Aim guns at their heads." Her gaze shifted downwards again. "I even  became their leader at some point."

My gaze softened. "Christa-"

"Oh,  thank god. I thought you were going to lie about that." Aasim  interrupted, getting everyone's attention. "Says in here you were  leaving them. What brought that up?"

"You took my diary? What the  hell kind of an asshole are you!?" She snapped, standing from the bed.  "You break into my house and then you go through my shit?"

"Christa, they're with me.  They don't mean ANY harm." I insisted. When I looked at them for   approval, I was met with hesitant faces. They nodded in unison slowly,   obliging her to sit back down and take a deep breath. She looked back at  me and turned completely so we were facing each other.

"I did  leave them. I didn't want to do all of their fucked up shit for them  anymore. So I ran. Ran as far as I could and stopped when I found  somewhere to hide. Decided to make this place my home. Refuge from the  walkers. All by myself."

My frown deepened as she finished her  story, feeling my heart sink as she told it. She suddenly turned back to  me and smiled weakly, moving her own hand so it was on my knee. Then  she looked at my face and climbed her palm up until it was in my hair.  She ran her fingers through it and stopped when she felt my pigtails,  shaking her head slightly.  

"You've grown so much. Lee would be so proud you've made it this far."

I went to smile, but the guilt overcame me. Survivor's guilt.  Memories flooded of all the people in my head again - all of those who  have died at my sake. I trembled as I held her arm. I could feel myself  shaking and took a sharp breath, trying not to let myself break at the  mention of Lee. Now that Lily is gone, she might...Christa just might be  the last one to have seen him last besides myself.

"Is it okay  if we stay here? We only need cover from some raiders we're hiding from.  Blew up their place so they shouldn't be around long, but we don't want  to risk it."

She looked troubled at my question, but nodded  anyway. "Of course. You and your...friends can stay as you long as you  need." Her smile dropped. "I...I just need to tell you something later,  is all."

I squeezed her hand and nodded gently before letting go.  She returned it and rested back on the bed, turning so she could face  the wall. When I looked around, I noticed the puzzled and surprised  faces around me. I bit my lip and came forward, shrugging awkwardly.

"Well, you heard her. We can stay as long as we need to."

"Do  you think it'd be appropriate to talk outside?" Ruby glanced at  Christa's figure on the bed. "Just so it can be a little more private?  Troubled kids to another?"

"Yeah, sure. We can talk outside." I agreed.

I  followed them through the door and once we were out of earshot, they  all surrounded me. A.J. came to my side automatically, looking like he  had a lot of questions, too. I braced myself for what was about to  happen. I knew how questionable this whole thing was, considering what  just happened only an hour ago.

"Who's Christa?" A.J. was the first to ask. The rest of the kid's voices followed suit.

"Yeah,  she looks...kinda old." "She knew this Lee guy, too?" "I don't like her  one bit. Her cursive is awful." "How do you know so many people, Clem?"   "Can we trust her?" "I'm not sure what to think..."

"Guys,  guys." I stopped them by waving my hands. "I have no idea what Christa  is like now. All I can tell you is she used to be my guardian. After my  friend Lee died. She took care of me and we got separated after being  ambushed. I haven't seen her since."

"But will she, like, kill us in our sleep?" Louis asked. Before I could respond, Omar cut in.

"She  said she worked for bandits. That's a red flag right there if I've ever  heard one. How can we trust her just because she knows Clem? You guys  know what happened last time!" He noticed my look and frowned.  "Sorry..."

"She doesn't seem so bad. Kind of looks...frail, actually." Ruby added. "As fragile as a flower."

I  frowned. Christa seemed like she was in bad shape. Her eyes looked  different and she kept shaking. I hadn't even noticed how skinny she was  underneath that baggy jacket. Her hair was a mess and she reeked of  walkers...she looked the exact opposite of how I remembered her, coming  to think of it.

"We won't have to deal with her for very long if  you don't like her." I told them. "We only have to stay for a few  hours, maybe. In that time, we'll keep an eye out and make sure nothing  suspicious happens. Deal?"

Everyone nodded in return. "Deal."

--------------------------------------------------

There  were some loud gunshots only an hour after that happened. We all ducked  inside and remained as quiet as possible, hiding wherever we could.  Christa seemed unfazed at the trouble we were exactly bringing. She even  offered to look out of the window for us and let us know it was safe.  Things were tense and, as I was sitting on the bed in the other room,  all I could do was stare at the wall and hope that time would pass  quickly.

I heard the door open and turned, finding Louis in the  doorway. He closed the door behind him and approached me. He waved  weakly, managing a small 'hi'. I returned one that sounded pathetic. He  sat beside me on the bed, only a couple of inches away from me. We both  stared at the floor for a long time before he had the courage to muster  up the first words.

"So, how are you feeling about using  this place as shelter?" He motioned to the bullet holes in the wall and  the broken glass in the corner. "Looks just as good as that boat. Can't  be any better than a motel, right?"

"You'd be surprised." I had the courage to smile. "We don't really have a choice either way. This is the best we can get."

"Ah,  you're right. I forgot all about the luxurious, old, scratchy sheets  and the leaking roof and the filthy bathroom. All we're missing now is  the 5 star treatment of dead rats served on a silver platter."

I nudged his arm, laughing a little. "Can you take this seriously? We may as well be hiding for our lives right now!"

"I'll start taking things seriously when you can admit that this place makes the boarding school look like a 5 star hotel."

"Louis, I swear to god--"

"Before you hit me, just remember that I carried you here!You can't be mad at me for risking my knees for you."

Before I could retort with anything sarcastic or witty, a voice interrupted us.

"You two seem close."

We  turned at the same time and found Christa standing across from us,  wearing a tired but knowing smile. My palms grew sweaty as I attempted  to think of a response. I don't understand why I feel this nervous.  Louis teases everyone and even that still applies to me. But Christa was  someone I knew from my childhood...someone I'd consider more of a  family than I ever did with Lily.

Louis spared me the favor by  doing one of his incredibly awkward replies. "And, uh, how long have YOU  been standing there? Or are you just really quiet because I didn't hear  a damn thing when you opened that door."

She giggled, her throat sounding hoarse. "Don't worry about me. I just found you two pushing each other. I thought it was cute."

I  cleared my throat and turned to her, resting my hand on Lou's shoulder  as I tried desperately not to let the blush grow on my cheeks. "Christa,  this is my...boyfriend, Louis."

Her eyes widened. He didn't know  what to do except get up and offer her his hand awkwardly. I had to  hold in my laugh. He was so stiff it almost made me cringe. But the  tension disappeared as Christa took his hand and shook it, looking at  him endearingly and smiling regardless.

"And you are...were...um,  a close friend of Clementine?" He manages. "It's nice to meet someone  from her past that isn't a murdering psychopath."

She laughed again, except this time a snort slipped out of her nose. "You're a very charming young man. Where are you from?"

"'Ericson's Boarding School for Troubled Youth',"  He recited formally, using a weird voice. "No idea how far it is from here, but I do NOT recommend staying because we've made some changes   recently. Walker heads on sticks. Bags filled with bricks. People   wearing walker skin. The usual, really."

Another noise escaped   her throat and she had to shut her eyes. I watching this scene in   amazement from the bed. Was Louis really...making her laugh?   Giving a good first impression? I have to give credit where credit is   due. He's doing a lot better than I granted him for, initially.

"You sound just like him." Christa's voice cracked.

I  can tell by the look on his face that he was confused. And I shared a  similar look, peering at her quizzically from the bed. He leaned forward  and tilted his head to the side, as if he didn't hear her right. "-Uh, who?"

"Omid.  My boyfriend. Before he died years ago." She looked away. "He used to  crack jokes like that all the time. I haven't laughed since the last  time he was around."

"Oh." Louis looked to me for help. "I'm...sorry I brought up bad memories."

Her  eyes traveled to me and she took a step forward. I could hear her  holding her breath. "I'm sorry that you had to see that, Clementine.  When it happened, years ago."

I remembered it, now. When Omid got  killed in the same room I was in. I saw him come through the door...try  to walk to that girl quietly...before she turned around and shot him  through the chest. He never got to say any last words. Or tell us  goodbye. I still remember Christa shooting her after, sobbing and  holding his body. Asking if she could hear him.

"It's okay," I give her a weak smile. "I've seen more people die since then..."

"Um,  Clem, can I just say what the fuck?" Louis commented in the background.  I didn't pay him any attention. It was disturbing to both say and hear,  but it was the truth. Omid's death fazed me as a child, but it was  nothing like Carver's death.

"That child you're with..." Christa starts weakly. "Is he...yours and Louis'?"

My  eyes went so wide I thought they'd pop out of my sockets. I heard my  boyfriend making surprised noises in the background and answered as fast  as I could. "No! No, he isn't...A.J. was the child of...this woman I  met. With this other man. It's-it's complicated."

"Oh."

Things  go quiet. Lou comes back to sit on the bed and I notice he avoids eye  contact with Christa. Neither of them look at each other. As I went to  break this silence, she did it before I could.

"Clem, what I said  I needed to talk to you about earlier-" She noticed Louis getting up  and motioned him back down. "No, it's fine. I don't mind if you hear.  Any boy Clementine loves is someone I can trust."

He still  doesn't know what to say. She turns back to me and takes a deep breath.  "Honey, the...the reason you all found me in that bath tub is because  I...well, I was trying to end my misery."

"Misery?" I repeated.

She  rolled up her shirt and her jacket to reveal the bite on the side of  her stomach. I gasped loudly while Louis jumped completely off the bed,  edging himself away as far as possible. I was too busy staring at it to  hear him exclaim from the side.

"Holy shit!"

She  put it down and quickly looked to the door. No one decided to come in  despite Lou's outburst. I mentally thanked our luck as Christa turned  back to me. The tears were starting to escape her eyes.

"It  happened this morning. When I went to find some food. Motherfucker  snuck up on me behind a tree." She clenched her fists angrily and took  a breath. "The effects are getting worse...it's been going on for hours  and, fuck, I don't want to deal with it anymore. I don't want to turn into one of them."

Her  eyes were full of tears by this point, her body shaking as she  sniffled. I felt utter remorse for her. It hurts just knowing she ended  with the same fate I've known so many others go through. There weren't  many who have known me from the beginning. Realizing Christa will die  and possibly end anyone who has known me since I was a child...it hurt  me in a way I couldn't explain.

"I heard you and your friends  come in. I didn't want to make any noise. I thought you were the people I  left, finally finding me after all this time. I was just about to put a  bullet through my head until you all found me in that bath tub." She  looked quickly at Louis but came back to me, her lips wobbling. "But  when I saw you, Clementine, I...I needed to know it was really you. So I know you're still alive."

My mouth was still hung open. I shut it.

"If  I fire a gun now it'll just attract attention...and I don't want that  for any of you." She looked up at me sadly. "I need to know if there's  another way I can go. If-if you can help me."

"Christa, I-"

"Please,  Clementine...I know you've been through enough death as it is. I know  what happened with Lee. I-I kept that picture that flew out of your  backpack. It's in my desk drawer. I've been holding onto it ever since.  In case we ever crossed paths again."

My breath hitched in my throat. Louis was looking back and forth between us. I felt bad that he  was caught in this situation - if I'd have known what Christa was going  to ask me, I'd have told him to left the room sooner. I looked over and  motioned to the door for him. He nodded once and proceeded to leave,  closing the door quietly as he did.

"Does he treat you good?"  She asked me. I nodded. "Good...that's all I want. That he'll keep  treating you well. And that what happened to Omid won't happen to you  and him..." Her voice was getting weaker by the moment. "Clementine, I'm  begging you..."

I gave in. "Okay...I'll try to make it as  painless as possible for you. I'm sorry this happened, Christa. I'm  sorry we got separated."

"None of it is your fault, sweetie."  Her lips curled into a smile. "You can leave my body...I just want to be  with my sweet Omid again. Surviving in this world is nothing but hell."

I  took the knife out of my back pocket slowly, looking it over before  glancing back at her. I struggled thinking of the last words I was going  to say to her. There was a lot I wanted to say her. I wasn't sure which  would be worthy of being the last thing she'd hear. As she sat there  helplessly on the bed, waiting for me to do the job, I let one sob  escape my mouth.

"Thank you for everything, Christa. For looking after me...helping Lee find me..."

I  didn't wait for her response. I struck her head. I had to shut my eyes  when the blade went through her skull, in the area between her eyes and  above her nose. When I heard her stop crying, I knew she was gone. With  Omid and everyone else that left me - far away from here...

-------------------------------------------------

I  left the room and told everyone not to come in there. They were  confused but listened, anyway. Louis came up to me with something in his  hand. His face looked sad, but as he handed it to me, he wore a hopeful  smile. The one he used to let me know that things were  okay. That  there was still good left in the world. That even after I had to bring  mercy to the woman that once looked after me, he was still here for me.

I  took it from him and my heart stopped once I saw what it was. The same  picture I had so many years ago - the torn one with Lee on it from his  family photo. The one I remember having back all the way to that drug  store...gripped in my hand now. When I thought it was lost forever.

"It was where she said it was." He cleared his throat. "A little blood on it, but it's still in good condition..."

I  didn't know what to say. I heard A.J. come by my side and tug on my  sleeve. I smiled once I saw him and leaned down to his sight, showing  him the picture that I held in between my fingers. He knew who Lee was,  but he had never seen him. Would never know what he looked like until  now.

"Hey, A.J. Ever wanted to know what Lee looked like?"

"Yeah!" He took the photo from me and looked at it, squinting slightly. "He looks...cool. Like a badass."

I nodded. "Yeah. He was. The biggest badass I knew."  

He  held onto it a little longer before returning it to me. I took it and  let myself look at it again. Lee looked so happy in the photo. It was  before everything began. Before I met him after he saved my life. Even  after everything, I still remember him like this. Full of hope when I  had none. Guiding me. Saving me.

I felt a hand come into mine  and looked at who it was. Louis smiled at me and gave me a little squeeze. I tried to squeeze back but I didn't have the strength. I   realized I was crying. He did, too. He let go of my hand and frowned   before hugging me. I closed my eyes and hugged back, opening my eyes   through the tears and looking at the photo that was in my shaking hand.

Thank you, Christa...