#boys have got tough roads ahead of 'em

[chromatic-lamina]

Episode 1089

[yemilnisu]

INCORRECT HAIKYUU QUOTES FROM BUZZFEED UNSOLVED

nisu entries:

i got this idea from @memekingofwwiii and some of it are theirs 🙇🏻‍♀️ thank you for letting me add it here 😊 it’s a mixture from buzzfeed unsolved supernatural and true crime 👀 i really had fun doing this!

warning: swearing, mentions of death/murder/killing/blood/weed

「part 2」

Tendou: i did have a neighbor who had an overhang of a lime tree, and it was great because i could go pick a little lime.

Ushijima: did you ever think about killing your neighbor?

Tendou: when he didn't give me limes, yeah.

Ushijima: oh, okay; all right.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Matsukawa: this is my bridge now, if you want it back you’re gonna have to kill me.

Oikawa: he did throw someone off the bridge once.

Matsukawa: fuck you, goatman!

Oikawa: Jesus Christ.

Kunimi: *behind the camera snickering as mattsun taunts the goatman much to oikawa’s dismay*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Matsukawa: hey demons, it’s me, ya boi.

Matsukawa: if you want to eat my heart, turn that light on. If you want to eat oikawa’s heart, turn that light on...

Oikawa: don’t drag me into your shit, mattsun.

*torch turns on*

Oikawa: *screams*

Matsukawa: *laughs hysterically as he continues to lie on the pentagram*

Kunimi: *actual wheezing*

Matsukawa: i think this demon’s a wimp.

Oikawa: he’s out of his fucking mind.

Kunimi: *having the time of his life*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Oikawa: every human's capable of murder if you push them enough. i just don't know if this is enough of a push.

Iwaizumi: okay.

Oikawa: it's true!

Iwaizumi: is that so?

Oikawa: yeah.

Oikawa: i bet you you would murder me if I pushed you enough.

Iwaizumi: yeah, probably.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tsukishima: …

Tsukishima: so, you're telling me, at nine years old, you don’t go to church. the first time you cross the threshold into holy ground,

Nishinoya: *makes noise and imitates blood coming out of his nose*

Tsukishima: blood expels from your nostrils?

Nishinoya: yeah, yeah. they ran outta tissues! mopping that up.

Tsukishima: …

Nishinoya: it was wild!

Tsukishima: it sounds wild.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kuroo: i think it was the neighbor. look, i’m a simple man. i see a trail of blood going to someone's house. even if they didn't do it, come on; you're going to jail.

Kenma: i think it might've been a random person.

Kuroo: all right.

Kenma: it just seems too obvious.

Kuroo: okay.

Kenma: there's a paper trail of their feud. why the hell would he be that dumb?

Kuroo: rage, you know? lust, rage. rage just- just building up, bursting out.

Kenma: well, i've never really gotten that angry. i don't really have that capacity.

Kuroo: it's building. it's building inside you. everyone sees it; we all see it.

Kenma: that's great. oh man, i can't wait for krakatoa then.

Kuroo: *shuddering* oh- oh- i shudder.

Kenma: hope no one's in the way 😺

Kuroo: …

Kuroo: scary.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Daichi: he allegedly chased his mother with an axe when he was 19.

Asahi: not great.

Daichi: (wheeze) no? not off- off to a bad start?

Asahi: no good. i’ve never done that. you didn’t do that did you?

Daichi: no! i didn't- what- is there anything to suggest that I would chase my mom with an axe?

Asahi: (inhales) not outright i feel like if you peel the layers back.

Daichi: you think if you peel the layers back from this onion, you'll see something you don’t want to see?

Asahi: yeah. i think you wear a mask sometimes 😅

Daichi: mm-hmm i think you should keep digging and maybe see what happens 🙂

Asahi: uh no i'm good 🧍🏻‍♂️

Daichi: *staring at asahi*

Asahi: 👁👄👁💧

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Osamu: my takeaway is people from chicago are weird.

Atsumu: the- this does not represent chicago. this is people and go "ey! chicago tylenol murders"

Osamu: (laugh) home with the beam, the cubs and the chicago tylenol murders and of course our nation's greatest tragedy, miya atsumu.

Atsumu: that- that's not me.

Osamu: i read it somewhere 🤷🏻

Atsumu: no, you didn’t, you probably wrote it.

Osamu: yeah.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Suna: i’d love to be an heiress.

Kita: (snickers)

Suna: i know she’s probably gonna disappear or something.

Kita: so you wanna be a trust fund baby?

Suna: i’d like someone to give me a lot of money for doing nothing. but i want-

Kita: and then you wanna disappear?

Suna: yes. i want to get a lot of money and then vanish from the face of the earth.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Ennoshita: her family believed that when she left at 11:30 am, she had as much as $30 in her purse, which in today’s dollars would be more than $750.

Nishinoya: holy moly!

Tanaka: that’s a lot of quiche—

Nishinoya: yeah.

Tanaka: that’s a lot of quiche.

Nishinoya: thirty bucks going that far in 1910.

Tanaka: i don’t even have $750 in my bank account.

Nishinoya: i’ve never had $750 in my pocket! i rarely have had $30 in my pocket.

Ennoshita: well i don’t really carry cash anymore-

Nishinoya & Tanaka: who does!?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Yaku: stop number one, mothman statue.

Lev: it looks very ornate.

Yaku: *shocked that lev knows that word*

Yaku: you’ll be able to stare at it eye to eye.

Lev: what’s that supposed to mean?

Yaku: it means you’re eight feet tall, it’s a tall joke. get it?

Lev: 🧍🏼

Yaku: 🤦🏼‍♂️

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Akaashi: any... any thought in that so far?

Bokuto: (fart sound) nope. what year is it, ‘66?

Akaashi: ‘66.

Bokuto: few teens out there probably smoking a few funny cigarettes.

Akaashi: you could say weed. it’s 2018.

Bokuto: ...some grass.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kageyama: so my guess is the couples were somewhere around here, maybe on that road over there.

Hinata: yeah.

Kageyama: and i'm not sure of the exact location but this is where they saw him stumbling around.

Hinata: they just… saw him kinda shambling?

Kageyama: yeah.

Hinata: big shambling man. kinda *shuffling his body*

Kageyama: i- i don’t know, maybe he was just taking a walk, i mean, what's it to you?

Hinata: why would you take a walk if you had wings?

Kageyama: he's a fucking creature, he can do what he wants.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kuroo: but all im saying is that what you need to gather from this is that he has an effect on people's psyche.

Lev: this mothman's a complicated character.

Kuroo: what does he sound like? what does he sound like?

Lev: he sound like the blood bird.

Kuroo: …

Lev: flappy spookster.

Kuroo: …

Kuroo: that's- come on.

Kuroo: *glances over to lev's notes*

Lev: the winged wretch. did i already say that?

Kuroo: this just says fright terror.

Kuroo: *throws away the notes*

Lev: you know, just call him batman, why is that hard? 😩

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(howling)

Goshiki: what the fuck.

Shirabu: well those are coyotes… or dogs. Or a large pack of something.

Goshiki: holy shit.

Shirabu: just some coyotes.

Goshiki: are you not fucking alarmed right now?

Shirabu: are you scared? (laugh)

Goshiki: dude wait- this goes beyond belief, that was a pack of, whatever the fuck that was.

Shirabu: it was coyotes!

Goshiki: is that our cue to leave? i think maybe. we've been out here for quite a bit.

Shirabu: yeah, i don’t know if were gonna find anything tonight.

Goshiki: i don’t wanna be in the mouth of some coyote later, that's not how i want the picture wrap on old tsutomu to be.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Atsumu: air force one? they filmed air force one here?

Atsumu: air force one actually, now that i think of it, remember the reason they hijacked the plane is to release for the-

Sakusa: i’m gonna go ahead and cut you off right there 'cause i don’t give a shit.

Sakusa: we’re gonna move over here.

Atsumu: …okay.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Kai: four people in a cell, that's a lot

Kuroo: i mean, you put any normal people in a room that's too small. like if you’re in a dorm in college, if you hate your roommate…

Kai: it's tough business

Kuroo: listening to music too loud when i'm trying to study

Kai: hwfrrrrr…

Kuroo: cookin' uhh… top ramen in the microwave when i'm trying to sleep

Kai: you got some axes to grind?

Kuroo: no.

Kai: oh

Kuroo: fuck you, daishou.

Kai: daishou?

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

(distant thud)

Yamamoto: what the fuck?

Kenma: :3

Yamamoto: is all i have to say to that.

Kenma: they didn’t like the thumb talk.

Yamamoto: you didn't like the thumb talk? was it too much thumb talk? i thought we went about two minutes long on the-

(distant thud)

Kenma: they don’t like the thumb talk.

Yamamoto: *looking around in shock*

Kenma: *stopping himself from laughing*

Yamamoto: uhhhh… holy fuck. holy fuck, holy fuck. if you’re one of the people that had that thumb thing to happen to you, that sucks. what was it like?

Kenma: what do you think you're gonna get right now? 😑

Yamamoto: i feel like we should go see what that is, to be honest.

Kenma: *shakes his head*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tsukishima: we’re walking over to the source of the disturbance.

Hinata: hello? (sigh) i’m gonna lose my mind. so, it did that twice within the span of 10 seconds but nothing else?

Tsukishima: but, we can confirm that it did sound like this right? *slams the cabinet door*

Hinata: yeah.

Tsukishima: that was the sound.

Hinata: do you think the wind’s gonna do that twice?

Tsukishima: *blows on the cabinet door*

Tsukishima: not moving 🙄

Hinata: well, shit.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sugawara: oh there it is. it’s that. *pointing to where the sound was coming from*

Asahi: what?

Sugawara: there’s a logical explanation for you.

Asahi: ah! okay, there it is. well, there you go, there you go.

Sugawara: but, if we hadn’t seen that...

Asahi: if we hadn’t seen that we would be fooled 😅

Sugawara: no, we wouldn’t have been fooled. you would have been telling me for months.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

*inside the prisoners of ohio state penitentiary*

Kageyama: this is fucking terrible.

Tsukishima: it’s the opportunity of a lifetime to be here.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Tendou: i’m separating from the group.

Semi: it’s the ideal time to kill him.

Tendou: yeah i mean, if i were gonna die in camera it would be a pretty noble thing.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Osamu: I don’t understand what’s wrong with atsumu sometimes.

Atsumu: what was that?

Osamu: i didn’t say anything.

Atsumu: you sure you didn’t say anything, ‘samu?

Osamu: now go back and set ‘em off to make sure they work.

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Sakusa: *inhales*

Atsumu: *inhales*

Sakusa: you need to back up from me. i can feel your air intake. it’s like a gross nasal jet, i don’t know.

Atsumu: *takes a step towards sakusa*

Sakusa: uh no *takes a step backwards*

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Futakuchi: latch yourself onto my soul, come back to hollywood with me, and destroy the lives of all my friends and coworkers.

Koganegawa: a little hard to follow, but i like where you’re going.

Futakuchi: kogane’s family has a little-

Koganegawa: ey! ey! do-! do-! don’t!

Futakuchi: -dog named mickey.

Koganegawa:*trying to stop futakuchi*

Futakuchi: real good. you wanted me to give it my all. i’m throwing stuff on the table.

Koganegawa: insults, not personal information. you’re giving him a dossier on my life!

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[leuiesroom]

      The most important part of leaving the cooler was the ride home. It was about 4 hours from the Oklahoma State Reformatory out in Granite back to Tulsa, Curly didn’t know why they didn’t send him somewhere closer to home, but he didn’t complain. The rides home after Tim picked him up were always the best. See, Tim wouldn’t say he missed Curly, that ain’t tough speakin like that, but he does miss his kid brother when he ain’t around, so the 8 hour drive is worth it to him, sure gas costs a shit ton, but he always takes Curly out to lunch after picking him up, get some real food in that boys system, not that cooler crap they served in slop dishes. And he gets to talk to him- that’s Curly’s favorite part, gettin caught up on all’t happened without him. (Gossip might be a chick thing, but it’s important to know who whipped who and who’s going with who and who got arrested for what in his absence.)

     It was real crushing being told he wouldn’t be picked up right away, “gotta wait another day kid”, the guard had said. A whole nother day...Tim was never late, not for him, or Angela neither, that isn’t how it is, you don’t just leave your guys in jail any longer than you gotta. It straight ain’t fair to ‘em. 

     Curly was waiting in the lobby, bag packed with his personal clothes on waiting for Tim when he arrived to sign him out. He was broody, walking Curly out to the car, didn’t say hello or nothing when he arrived. Tipping Curly off something was wrong.      “You didn’t come.” It was point blank, accusatory, he’d better have had a real good reason for abandoning curly like that. Tim’s knuckled were white on the steering wheel, he hadn’t even turned the key yet, they just sat in the parking lot. He wouldn’t look at Curly, he just stared straight ahead, like he was driving or somethin, only he wasn’t.      “You hungry?” Tims voice was summat quieter than Curly could remember, not soft exactly, but it was almost gentle. Tim Shepard was never gentle, and his voice wasn’t gentle unless something was really wrong. None of the Shepard’s voices were- you could hear them a mile away with their nasally yells and high, barking laughter, like a hyena.      “Why didn’t you come?” Curly was scared. Last time he’d heard Tim like this was after the fight with the Tiber Street Tigers. It should have been just chains, nothing rough, but someone cracked a bottle over one of Tim’s guys head and he dropped. It was real sudden and bloody. This was the voice Tim used to comfort his guys when something went wrong, when they were dying.      “Tim, why weren’t you here yesterday?”      “There was a funeral.” A funeral.      “Who’s?” Curly’s voice cracked, if Tim missed his release it had to be someone important, “..-Angel-” “No!” Tim barked, “Don’t even talk like that Curly.” He was serious too.

     “It’s a long story.” Tim said as he started the engine and pulled out onto the street, Curly was quiet.      “You know that Curtis kid you hang out with?” Curly nodded     “Ponyboy, yeah?” Was it him? Fuck he was young... Tim blew through a red light, pulling onto I-40 E. (Curly knew the roads home by heart now. He knew the interstate system real well too, only thing he was good at in school was geography. He could tell you the capital of every state real well- but that was besides the point right then.)     Tim’s silence was scary, and looking at him Curly noticed what he hadn’t before: He looked like hell. bags under his eyes, he looked older too, with greasy hair, and not the tuff slicked back kind neither, real greasy- like he hadn’t showered.     “Tim what happened?”     “He and his friend killed a soc.”     Curly paused, confused. Why was Tim making such a big deal about some bourgeoisie asshole in training from the other side of town?     “That’s it?” He was incredulous,     “No...” Tim swallowed, his eyes looked glassy. Tough as nails Tim was on the verge of tears. “It ain’t really my story to tell, but after he and Cade killed him they ran away. They hid out in one of Dallas’s old spots.” Tim and Curly were the only people who got to call him Dallas, it was somethin’ special. Dal and Tim had been friends longer’n anyone. Even the Curtis’s. “I guess the hole they had burned down, something about little kids, I don’t fucking know.” He took a deep breath, “Those dumbasses ran right in y’know. I don’t know what it is with those boys and always having to be a hero. You know if you’re ever in a situation you don’t go in- you let someone else do it, or let those kids burn. They got themselves into it anyway, it ain’t your problem. What is your problem is keeping your fool self alive,” The for me was unspoken. Tim had been through more than he should have been, tough streets aren’t any place for a child, it was an unspoken fact in the Shepard household that Curly and Angela were his lifeline. He provided them a place to live, and food, and they provided him a purpose. “They died? That’s what your torn up about?” “No, well. yes. Its more complicated than that. The Cade kid died,” Tim didn’t need to say why he upset for that. Everyone knew Johnny, it’s an unspoken rule in a lot of greaser gangs, but you just don’t hurt a kid like that. He gone through to much, much to young, he was burdened with pain when he should be having fun.      “What about Pony?” Curly was surprised how scared he was for the youngest Curtis, sure’d been friends, but he felt his heart pounding with panic, “What about Ponyboy?!” He yelled after Tim didn’t answer. “What about him-” Tim spat, bitterness lacing his voice, “It’s his fucking fault. Too damn immature to take a hit when he deserves it- gotta run away and get Johnny and Dally into this mess.” Tim was shouting, he was speeding too- a danger of being passionate while you drive, but neither of the boys noticed. (Nor would they have cared.)       “Dallas...?” Tim swerved onto the side of the road, stopping and just slammed on the horn and yelled a little bit. “Tim stop it!” Curly had never seen him so broken up about anything before, “Tim!” He calmed down as quickly as he’d sparked up, and when he wasn’t angry he just looked dead...and sad. He had tear tracks on his face.       “Dallas is dead, Curly.” Three words, four if you count his name, and the world just stopped. Tim pounded his palms against the steering window for a moment, agony obvious,  “He-” His voice broke and he just stopped, quiet and scary as he ever was. Cool as day, if it weren’t for the redness of his eyes, and wetness of his cheeks. But Curly didn’t hear him, his blood was pounding in his ears, so loud he could feel it, and his ribs were breaking.

     ‘Oh god,’ He though, ‘I can’t breathe.’ He pushed the car door open and slid out onto the side of the road, on his hands and knees. (He was almost glad, after, that the reformatory was so far from home, so no one saw him break down.) Bile rose, hot, in his throat, and he just threw up. Right there, underneath some fucking billboard advertisement, good old Dallas was gone.     Tim waited silently in the car, letting Curly sit there until he could breathe again, or think, or move, or whatever it was he wasn’t doing. When Curly stood up finally Tim gave him a hand, pulling him into his seat. It was a little slimy, a combo of the shoulders dirt, and Curly’s upchuck. He just wiped it on his jeans, he’d almost thrown up when he heard too.      It wasn’t like this wasn’t expected, everyone knew Dallas would die young, but Tim guessed they’d all assumed he’d make it out of his teens. At the very least. That boy had been like a brother to him. He appreciated Dal more than he ever let on, he knew when he went out on benders it was Dallas who dropped food off on the porch to keep Curly and Angela fed. Not that they couldn’t fend for themselves, but the two of them, tough as they were, didn’t think kids should have too. Or at least Tim didn’t, and Dal didn’t argue with Tim. 

     “How’d it happen?” He was broken out of his reminicence by Curly, his voice sounded so childish in that moment, broken and young.      “How do you figure it happened kid? Same way we all knew it would.” It was so violent...Tim didn’t want to even say it, but he had to tell Curly summat and better he hear from him than someone else. “Shot.” He said, “Cops,” He could barely manage full sentences, “suicide.” Curly nodded, he got the picture, he still looked sick, “If you’re gonna puke again roll down the window,” Tim said. Curly rolled down the window, but he didn’t puke or anything, he just stared.

     “How many times?” Tim had asked that too,      “14.”      “Holy shit....” Curly rubbed the side of his neck, just under his jaw. He had a hand drawn tattoo there, from Dally actually. 1312, in his handwriting. How fitting, “Bastards.” He murmured and Tim agreed.      “All of ‘em. Bloody fucking bastards.”

[hysterialevi]

His Name Was Isaac - Ch. 12

Fanfic summary: During a mission to avenge his mother’s death, Isaac hunts down the men responsible for her murder and kills them off one-by-one, only to discover that his last target is taking refuge among the Van der Linde gang. In an attempt to kill them, Isaac attacks the gang and unknowingly becomes enemies with his own father, who is in the process of fighting his own battle for redemption.

Point of view: third-person

Previous chapter | Next chapter

This story is also on AO3

THAT EVENING

NEAR OWANJILA LAKE

“What do you mean Joe’s dead?” Dutch asked, his tone sounding more feral with every word.

“I mean Arthur killed him!” Bill reiterated. “Shot him right in the face when no one was looking.”

The other man glanced at Micah, watching as the man rested on a nearby bedroll.

“And Micah?” He asked.

“Isaac attacked him as soon as Joe was shot.” Bill explained. “Cut him straight through the eye. Micah nearly killed the boy after that. Almost drowned him in the river, but Arthur managed to pull him off. Gave him one hell of a beating. Then, he sent me back here.”

Dutch looked at him with bewilderment. “And you just left?”

Bill threw his hands in the air. “Well, what else was I supposed to do, Dutch? You know Arthur. That man’s a beast. You raised him, after all. As for his son, let’s just say the apple don’t fall far from the tree. He ain’t nearly as strong as his pa, but he’s goddamn crazy. I’d have been killed if I stuck around.”

Dutch sighed in frustration and turned away from Bill, annoyed at the dead-end he suddenly found himself facing.

He knew Arthur wouldn’t be easy to take down -- that was no surprise -- but the fact that he killed one of his men and nearly beat another to death sent Dutch into a state of panic.

If Micah, Bill, and Joe couldn’t bring Arthur back by themselves, what the hell were they supposed to do now? Their gang was short one man, and Micah was in no condition to be going after anybody at the moment.

Dutch would have to find Arthur himself. He may have been sick, and he may have been dying, but he knew that man better than any of these fools. He knew how Arthur thought.

It was going to take more work than he initially anticipated to bring that man down, but Dutch was sure he could do it.

He just needed more time.

“So?” Bill questioned. “Where do we go from here, Dutch?”

Dutch brought his focus back to Williamson, his cold eyes seemingly gazing straight through him.

“We wait. Now that the three of you have alerted Arthur, he and the boy are gonna have their guard up. So we’ll give ‘em some space to breathe for now. Let them think that we ain’t a threat no more. In the meantime, we’ll allow Micah to recover from his wounds, and think of a plan. We’re gonna need it. Men like Arthur don’t just give up.”

Bill offered no objections. “Yeah, well... neither do you, Dutch.”

The man nodded at that, patting Bill on the shoulder. “You’re goddamn right about that, son. I ain’t givin’ up anytime soon. And Arthur’s gonna learn what it means to betray our family. I just need you and Micah to be with me, and I need no more mistakes. Are we clear on that, Williamson?”

Bill was clearly still hesitant to go against someone like Arthur, but complied nonetheless.

“We’re clear, Dutch.”

“Good. Then if you’ll excuse me...” Dutch began strolling away, “...I have got some thinking to do.”

~~~~~~~~~~

MEANWHILE

DAKOTA RIVER, NORTH OF DIABLO RIDGE

Trudging along the rocky path, Arthur and Isaac rode side-by-side as they followed the current of the river, slowly making their way up to the Grizzlies West.

By now, the sky had transformed into a soft shade of purple and was highlighted with wispy streaks of orange clouds, painting a beautiful contrast above them.

There were no other silhouettes dotting the dark horizon or distant gunshots to fill the air, and so far, everything had gone smoothly ever since their violent encounter with the Van der Linde gang.

Unfortunately though, they still had one other problem to deal with.

And this one wasn’t so easily ignored.

Throwing a silent glance at his father, Isaac felt a tight sense of worry clutching his chest as he watched the man let out another chain of coughs, his breath growing more ragged with every outburst.

Arthur kept insisting that he was fine for the moment and showed no signs of deviating from their plan to head up north, but Isaac wasn’t sure that wandering into the cold was the best idea right now.

Every fiber in his being hated to admit it, but Isaac knew his father was dying. He recalled Micah mentioning something about Dutch being sick not too long ago, and Arthur’s symptoms didn’t seem that different from the old man’s.

Isaac really had no idea where else he could’ve gotten it from or what the illness could’ve been, but one thing was clear to the boy. 

Sooner or later... he was going to lose Arthur. 

The outlaw was going to disappear from his life faster than he jumped back into it, and it made Isaac want to scream at the world for taking yet another one of his parents.

He had just started the process of finally moving on from Eliza’s death, and now, it was as if things had been reset.

Isaac was witnessing the death of his father now -- same as before -- only this time, it was going to be far more painful, and far more drawn out.

 Why was the world doing this to him?

“...It ain’t polite to stare, boy.” Arthur remarked gruffly, causing Isaac to avert his eyes.

“...Sorry.” He replied, his tone firm with anger. “I just... well, never mind.”

The kid didn’t even have to explain what was on his mind. Arthur could already tell.

“Don’t you go givin’ up on me yet, Isaac.” He reminded. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere anytime soon. It’ll take more than a cough to scare me away.”

Isaac gazed at the lively river beside them, his eyes downcast in sorrow.

“I know you’re tough, Dad. You made that pretty clear when you beat Micah to a pulp...” the boy rubbed his neck in remembrance. “But will that be enough?”

Arthur sighed, not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer. “It’ll have to be.”

Falling into an uncomfortable silence, the two of them decided to leave the matter alone for now and trotted quietly down the road as the sky continued to darken above them, instilling a sense of fatigue in them.

Before either of them could go nodding off however, Arthur suddenly felt the need to bring up another topic that had been bothering him and turned to Isaac, hoping to comfort the boy somewhat.

“Hey, Isaac,” he called out, “about what happened earlier with Micah...”

The young man raised a brow. “Yeah?”

Arthur’s face sank with regret. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I know we was in a tough spot back there, and we didn’t really have much choice, but still... I shouldn’t have lost myself like that. Not in front of you. That ain’t the kinda man I want you to be.”

Isaac didn’t appear to share the man’s remorse. “Bastard had it comin’ to him. He betrayed your gang and nearly strangled me right after interrogating me. S’far as I’m concerned, Micah’s lucky he only got away with a wounded eye after all the shit he’s pulled.”

“Isaac!” Arthur scolded. “Look, I know that man’s rotten to the core. He’s always been a rat since he first joined our gang, but we’re better than that. You’re better than that.”

The boy scoffed. “Am I? I’ve robbed people. Killed ‘em. I poisoned an innocent man just so I could get revenge on some sorry fool who had already forgotten me by the time I found him again. From where I’m standing, I’m no more of a saint than any of the people we’ve fought.”

“Now you know that ain’t true.” Arthur replied. “We’ve all done bad things. Myself included. But you’ve got a kind heart, Isaac. That much is clear.”

Contrary to what the older man expected, that only seemed to annoy Isaac more.

“What good is a kind heart if it just gets everyone around you killed in the end? Micah may be rotten, but at least he knows how to survive. He knows it ain’t worth it tryin’ to get close with people. I wish I knew better.”

The other man blinked in confusion. “What’re you talkin’ about? Survival’s fine and dandy, but there’s more to it, Isaac. You gotta have a reason to survive. And if you don’t have anyone to care about, well then, frankly I don’t see��a reason.”

Isaac scowled at that. “Yeah, you wouldn’t.”

Arthur found himself at a loss for words. “What’s gotten into you? One minute you’re askin’ me if we should kill Micah for everything he’s done, and the next, you’re sayin’ you wish you were more like him? That ain’t like you.”

Isaac shook his head in irritation. “How would you even know what ‘I ain’t like?’ We were practically strangers when I was a kid. You was always runnin’ off with some gang, or doing a job that was more important than us. You don’t know the first thing about me. I’ve had horses in my life longer than I’ve had you.”

The older man stopped in his tracks at that and lowered his voice, glaring directly at Isaac.

“...Watch your mouth, boy.” He warned sternly. “Now listen, I don’t know what the hell’s goin’ on with you today, Isaac, but you better shape up. I know we’re both still stressed from the fight this morning, but we are tryin’ to survive out here, and the last thing I need is for you to be pushin’ against me like this. So get your head straight or I’ll straighten it for you. You hear me?”

Isaac hardly seemed fazed by Arthur’s words and simply tapped his horse’s reins, walking ahead of the other man.

“Yeah. Sure.”

Watching Isaac solemnly trot further down the trail, Arthur decided to put some space between them for now and followed the young man from behind, confused as to why he was acting like this all of the sudden.

It was obvious Isaac was upset about something, but what? He seemed perfectly fine this morning, even after their fight with the Van der Lindes, and Arthur knew it took more than a beating to get Isaac’s spirits down. So what was going on with him?

Perhaps all the memories of his childhood were just starting to come back? Because as annoyed as Arthur was with the boy right now, he couldn’t deny that Isaac had a point. 

He was hardly ever around when that man was still a child. He made an effort to be near him every few months or so, but Isaac never had a reliable father figure growing up. Hell, the closest thing to a father he had back then was Shay... and he hated him.

Maybe Isaac still hadn’t quite forgiven Arthur for being absent all those years. He could act tough all he wanted, but the older man knew how much that boy really cared about his family. So it was no surprise to him that Isaac would be standoffish about losing him. Arthur just didn’t understand why these feelings were coming up now.

He supposed Isaac would tell him when he was ready. If that kid was anything like his father, then Arthur assumed he wouldn’t appreciate being pushed to open up about certain things.

Still, Arthur couldn’t deny that he was worried. This was the only chance he had to do right by his son, and so far, it seemed like everything was going wrong.

He just hoped he wasn’t pushing the kid away. Being a father was turning out to be much more daunting than he expected, and the last thing Arthur wanted to do was guide his son down the same path that he took.

Isaac had the potential to be more than that. He just couldn’t see it.

~~~~~~~~~~

ONE HOUR LATER

WEST OF WALLACE STATION

Sitting on a short stump, Arthur gazed out at the sea of trees dominating the horizon as a bundle of stars began to light up above them, giving the sky a soft, pale glow.

At the moment, he was drawing in a new journal that he had purchased at Wallace Station and was working on a sketch of the landscape, hoping to escape his worries for the time being.

Meanwhile, Isaac got some rest next to the campfire and slept on a bedroll, allowing his incessant dreams to carry him away as Aldo stood protectively nearby.

The two of them hadn’t said a word to each other ever since their little spat earlier, and were taking some time apart from one another. The boy appeared to be just as irritated as before, and Arthur -- being the inquisitive man that he was -- couldn’t stop wondering what it was that he did to make Isaac so upset.

He let out a sigh and began scribbling some words next to his drawing, trying to get his thoughts in order.

“Oh, Hosea... I certainly wish you was here right now. You wouldn’t believe what’s happened in the past few days. You remember Eliza? That waitress I used to be with all them years ago? Well, I found our son again. I found Isaac. Turns out he’s still alive, and he seems to be doing okay, if a bit troubled. I think you’d like him.”

“Problem is, I don’t know the first thing about being a parent. That’s why I wish you was still around. You and Dutch -- the two of you always seemed to know what to do with me. It felt like you always had the answers.”

“But me... it seems like with every attempt I make to protect the boy, the worse things get. We got Pinkertons chasing us down, the Van der Lindes trying to kill us around every corner, and I’ve started to develop this cough that won’t go away. I think I’m getting sick, just like Dutch.”

Arthur set his pencil down and dragged a hand down his face, taking a breath before continuing to write.

“What the hell am I going to do? I love Isaac more than life itself, but... things are getting heated between us. I think the boy’s angry at me. He’s started pushing me away all of the sudden, and the worst part is, I can’t even say he’s fully unjustified. I know I didn’t do right by him as a kid. I was always too occupied with our gang that I left Isaac alone. I wasn’t there when he needed me.”

“But I don’t plan on making the same mistake twice. Even if Isaac comes out of this hating me, I still want to be the father he deserves. I want to be the father that you were to me, Hosea.”

“I just wish I knew where to begin.”

Shutting his journal closed, Arthur decided to call it a day and stood up from the stump, rolling his shoulders as he strolled back to the campfire.

It looked like Isaac was out cold for the night and didn’t even twitch when Arthur stepped near him, but even then, the older man could see the grip of a revolver poking out from underneath his hand.

Part of him wanted to wake the young man up and set things straight between them, but Arthur knew he’d probably just end up aggravating Isaac even more if he did that.

So, instead, he simply made his way over to his own bedroll and tried to get some shut-eye, preparing himself for the long road ahead.

Tomorrow would be the start of the toughest part of their journey, and if things went according to schedule, Arthur expected they’d be wandering into the colder regions of Ambarino before long.

He wasn’t eager to go back into the snowy mountains that killed Jenny and Davy, but if they could cross the border, then they’d finally be free men.

The goal of their journey was drawing near, and now more than ever, Arthur was fervent in protecting Isaac. He may not’ve had much time left in this world, but he was going to see to it that the boy made it out okay.

If anything happened to Isaac, well... Arthur didn’t know what he’d do.

That kid was everything to him now, and he suspected he wouldn’t be able to bear it if he lost him a second time.

He’d never forgive himself, and neither would Eliza.

[billie-ford]

The Day Will Come When You Won’t Be

1

“I am going to beat the holy fuck, fucking, fuckity fuck outta one of you sorry fucks.”

Those crude words had been the last Billie had heard before looking between her family; kneeling in the hard gravel, sweating, illuminated by the yellow head lights of the heavy duty trucks surrounding them and shaking from the unrelenting cold. It was the cold - or it was the fear. Billie had given Maggie her coat, but even the fur lined denim couldn’t seize the quake of terror in her bones. Her eyes, wide and glossy, didn’t follow the man as he paced in front of her group, only catching the reflective glint of barbed wire as he passed her by. She wanted to look at him. To square her shoulders like the ginger brute to her left and stare with an unwavering anger before standing, fighting them all off like the hero in all of those action movies.

But she wasn’t their hero. And she was so, so scared.

His pacing continued, his boots kicked gravel into their laps and he waved his weapon of choice frivolously while uttering:

“Eenie, meenie, miney, mo..”

Maggie, hunched over in pain, searched the gravel to her left. Her hand found Billie’s and she gave it a tight squeeze, somewhere between fear and comfort. She heaved and whimpered, snot and hot tears and sweat dampened every inch of her face and the hand she so desperately grabbed was an anchor to keep her from completely doubling over - preparing herself for the worst. They were out here for her, warranting her safety, now she couldn’t ensure theirs.

“-and you...are...it.”

The rapid beating of her heart reached her ears, blocking out all other sounds as if she were suddenly thrusted underwater, hands around her throat. Drowning and choking. It was heartbreak she was feeling. Maggie gripped her hand tighter and her breath drew sharply.

“You can breathe. You can blink. You can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doing that.”

The first crack of bat on skull met her ear. So vivid and echoing that she questioned if she had been the one to receive the blow. But as the blood splattered on her clothes, on her sweat soaked skin, and she listened to the repeating squelch of brain matter and cracking skull she felt nothing but dread. Unfortunately, she was not the one taking the blows. Now she had to watch as her older brother’s head was beaten into an unrecognizable pulp.

1991

Little feet stomped along the carpeted hallway from the stairs to the dead end. “Abraham? Are you awake?” The seven year old’s shaky voice couldn’t have been louder than a mouse as she knocked carefully on her older brother’s bedroom door. Another sharp crack of thunder caused the child to yelp, banging on the door this time and yelling his name.

The door creaked and with a hand scratching at his curly red fro, Abraham was half awake and staring down at his kid sister. The paper she had taped to his door within the year said it all - B.F.G.

He was looming - all six foot two of him - but his smile was soft, and as another crack of thunder startled the child he guided her into the room and let her bury herself beneath his multitude of quilts.

“Aren’t you too old to be scared of thunderstorms, pup?” 

He was already in bed, eyes closed and half muffled by his pillow before she could unveil herself from the quilt. She wormed her way in the crook of his arm and laid staring at the shadows that danced on the ceiling, her arms crossed evasively. “No..”

“What’s so bad ‘bout ‘em anyways? I think they’re calming..”

“It’s so quiet..then it’s so loud. Like scary movies.” She wasn’t a big fan of scary movies.

“You shouldn’t be watching scary movies.” “But I watch them with you.” “Well I ain’t your daddy.”

Another crack. Despite his teasing, Abraham’s arm instinctively tightened around his little sister and a calloused paw - good for catching a football or starting fights with the other college students - stroked her wild curls.

“I would beat those storms up if I could, ya know. And I’d tell ‘em Big Bad Billie sent me. Maybe I’d let you get a good few kicks in too.” This got a smile from the child. She believed him.

“I wish you could always be around..”

Abraham sat up, his head in his hand and frowned down at the child who glowed dark blue in the moonlight. There was a melancholic air to her naturally, perplexing for someone her age, and that cloud of sadness only seemed to grow heavier with the days counting down to his return to campus. He could see it now; their father holding the back of her shirt tightly as he pulled out of the driveway in his beat up hand-me-down truck. She’d scream and cry and kick and eventually break away from his grasp before running after the truck yelling over and over, “take me with you! just take me too!”

He would just have to keep driving or else his rain cloud would burst too.

“I’m always here for you, pup. Even when I ain’t here.” “That doesn’t make sense.”

He chuckled. “I mean I ain’t never gonna leave you forever. Think about it; I’m only gone for a few weeks until the next break then I’m right back here. When I am gone I call you every night. I send you those little cards from campus. When I’m gone, off to school or work, I’m always thinkin’ aboutcha. When I come home I don’t leave your side. You know I’m always here for you, pup. That means I’ll always protect ya. You know that right?”

“Yeah..” “Y’know you’re tough too right?” “Guess so..” “Betchu didn’t even notice the storm died out.”

Like a dog hearing the mailman she perked up and looked outside. No thunder, no lightning, not even a sprinkle of rain. The trees now danced slowly with the wind and a branch just beyond the glass waved at her lazily. “I didn’t even hear it stop..”

“‘Cause you ain’t all that scared. It’s just all in your head, pup.” “Can I still sleep in here then?” “Well yeah. Or less you done woke me up for nothin’.”

2

Dawn had broke more than an hour ago. The truck was filled with uneasy silence. Faces were dried with blood and tears and breaths were ragged. Sasha sat in the back seat, stroking Maggie’s still damp hair as her head rested, exhausted, in her lap. All three women were emotionally and physically drained. Sasha stared blankly at the back of Billie’s head, every so often attempting to open her mouth and speak but the only sound that managed to come out was a strangled gasp. She drove in stunned silence. Never looking at the two women in the back seat. Her muscles looked lack, spent, as she loosely gripped the steering wheel and her tired eyes brimmed with sadness while focusing on the road ahead. At least she looked to be focused, Sasha had grown use to the far away look that overcame Billie from time to time; when she had switched into autopilot and let her muscle memory guide her to where she needed to be.

“How are you?” Sasha finally croaked after what felt like hours of silence.

“No better than you.”

Sasha had only been dating Abraham for a handful of months, but she had known him for much longer. Loved him for much longer. She loved him like she had known him her whole life and in terms of before and after - she almost did. In his final moments, she had been the only one to receive his recognition - maybe Billie too - but Sasha wouldn’t look away. Only until she had to. Only when the sound of his brutal death made her lunch churn in her stomach and rise to her throat did she find the gravel beneath her. A simple hand gesture, a trademark peace sign, was all Abraham had to send one last goodbye to the two he loved the most.

“Are you going back?” “I have to make sure Maggie’s a’right first.” “What about Rosita?” “She has the others.”

Sasha fell quiet with a nod. Billie was lost, that much she could see. That thousand yard stare usual came with a silent racking of her brain. She didn’t say another word the entire drive, turning her attention back to Maggie who was now looking up at her through half-lidded eyes.

3

“You were out...out here for me.” “We still are.”

Billie followed Maggie on wobbly legs. She was sobbing, Billie’s last statement only making it worse. She reached out for her, her hand brushed off as Maggie kneeled in front of what remained of her husband, the father of her unborn child. Glenn Rhee. The pizza boy that convinced Billie to join him and his group when she was on her own. 

She owed him everything.

“I can make it now, I need you to go back. I can’t have you out here - I can’t have you all out here I need you to go back.”

Billie crouched down beside her, hands squeezing comfort into her trembling shoulders. “I’m not leaving you out here alone,” her voice cracked. “I’m here for you. We’re all here for you.”

Billie hurt for Maggie. Maggie hurt for Billie. They hurt for everyone and everyone hurt for them.

“I’m taking them. I’m taking you too.”

4

Hilltop opened their gates upon recognizing the face behind the wheel of the pickup. Looks of confusion morphed to frowns of sorrow when Billie emerged from the truck, revealing the headless bodies laid in the bed with the simple muttering of, Negan.

She assisted Sasha in bringing Maggie to her feet and led her further into the compound. “Get her to Carson.” Billie croaked. “You go with her, Sash. Make sure she has a familiar face to wake up to.”

“What about them-” “I’ll handle it. Please go.”

She was apprehensive, staring at Billie with worry and only beginning her trek to the infirmary when Maggie’s weight slumped over on her. “Anything we can do to help?” A number of Hilltop members surrounded her. Those who have been so kind to them all, dead and alive, before this.

“Show me where I can bury them.

[caspers-chibs-imagines]

Redemption

Summary 

Riley Teller and her son move back to Charming. When Riley returns however, she is faced with the fact that she had to take on her responsibilities as a mom better than before when they are apart of The Sons. Allies are made and maybe a little something more with a certain Scotsman.

____

Chapter Nineteen

"Where the hell were you guys?!" Clay shouts down his phone. "And you just... No, you wait there! You've done enough damage today." He flips his prepay closed and shoves it into his pocket.

"What?" Jax asks him.

"Bounty hunters, just picked up Tig." Clay grunts back.

"The hell for?" I ask as I frown.

"Didn't stop to say. Half-sack is tailing them." He replies and moves back over to his bike.

"Jesus Christ. How does tha' happen?" Chibs asks. I knew Tig was a maniac, but I didn't think he had any bounties out on his head. I groan and hunch over as a pain shoots through my ribs again. The others keep arguing about whether we are saving Tig or not. I keep my head on my handles as I wait for the pain in my chest to stop.

I briefly glance up when there's a scraping of metal and concrete to see that Clay had dropped his bike. His arthritis is getting worse by the looks of things. He storms off with Opie close on his tail and Chibs and Jax pick up Clay's bike.

Jax looks back over to me and frowns when he looks at my hunched position.

"You alright?" He asks as he helps me sit up. I nod my head and he huffs a laugh at me.

"I'll be fine Jax." I tell him and groan again at another sharp pain coursing through my ribs.

"Lass, ya ain' fine." Chibs says as he crouches down besides me and puts a hand on my arm. I look over to him and I could feel Jax's eyes burning holes in the back of my head.

"We're already one man down." I grunt and sit back up, doing my best to ignore the dull ache. "I'm not giving up yet." I smile up at Jax and he rolls his eyes at me and ruffles my hair up.

"Let's go get Tig." Clay announces when he walks back over to us and we all set off.

***

When we pulled up on the side of the road, Chibs made sure to be very close to me. It felt nice having him be this protective over me, but I would have to make it clear that I could survive little bumps like this.

Piney and Sack pulled up and Sack came over to us from his bike.

"They got Tig maybe two miles down the road in a motel. There's four of 'em." He relays his information to Jax as the rest of us listen. I curse under my breath as I look up at Jax and he meets my eye line.

"We gotta do something." I tell him and he nods his agreement. Clay and Piney come over to join us and Jax informs Clay of the situation.

"Why did they stop at a motel?" Clay turns his attention to Sack.

"Don't know. They beat the shit out of Tig, and the motel was the next stop." Sack replies and Clay shakes his head.

"That crazy prick must have provoked them." Bobby cuts in and exhales smoke from his cigarette. "Can't bring him in beat up to a pulp."

"So, they're patching him up." I conclude and Bobby nods.

"All right, let's go handle this." Jax declares but Clay has other plans as he shakes his head again.

"If they hit a motel, they got a long ride ahead of 'em. They're going to be there for a while. Call up the run, tell the boys from Tacoma to get back down here." He orders Opie – his new obedient dog.

"That's going to take hours. We got to do this now." Jax cuts in and steps forward.

"He's right." I back up my brother and step forward. "We don't know how long-"

"This is the way we stay off the radar, right? We're going to be doing runs up here every two weeks with a blanket full of guns." Clay interrupts me. I bite the inside of my cheek at how he is being blind to the fact Tig could get hurt or thrown away from this.

"And bringing five more guys into the mix is going to make it low-profile?" Jax questions Clay and glares at him.

"We wait until dark. They go out for food-"

"We don't know if they're going to still be here!" It was my turn to interrupt Clay. Earning myself a glare as he steps forward and points his finger at me.

"You heard Bobby. They're armed to the teeth! We got not idea what kind of firepower they're sitting on. We got handguns." He exclaims. Jax moves to be slightly in front of me and Clay turns his attention to him.

"We got surprise." Jax presses but Clay ignores him and looks back at Opie.

"Call the guys."

"Call a vote!" Jax demands. Clay looks back at him and pushes him back.

"You don't call a vote!" He shouts at him.

"You don't lay your goddamn hands on me!" Jax yells. I'm quick to grab onto my brother's arms as Chibs grabs Clay. Bobby moves to stand between the two and holds his arms out. The others watch and get ready to jump in if needed.

"You two, come on! Everybody's fried, and it's my fault. I got Tig hurt. Stupid sh1t. But everybody has got to calm down. Have a smoke. Take a walk. Everybody, clear your head." Bobby tells everyone.

I let go of Jax and follow him as he walks away from Clay. He shakes his head and huffs in frustration before I notice Piney pulling the pick-up around to us.

"Where are you going?" I ask him. He reaches for something on the other side of him and holds out a shotgun towards Jax.

"You wanna get this done, jump on." He tells us. We share a look before jumping onto the back of the truck.

"Chibs, Sack, come on!" Jax yells as we pass the others. Chibs looks up and sees me on the truck and is instantly moving his way with Sack just behind him.

"What's up?" Happy calls as he walks over.

"Shit kicking!" I shout back and he grins before hopping on with the rest of us. I stand between Jax and Chibs as Piney drives us to the motel to rescue Tig.

"This your idea, gorgeous?" Chibs asks as he puts an hand on my back to keep me stable.

"This is all the old-man." I smile up at him. "I'm simply helping out a brother." He laughs at my response and then we focus on the road ahead of us.

Pulling up to the motel, I look to Jax and he looks back down at me.

"We got a plan here?" I ask as I pull my handgun out from the back of my trousers.

"Ask the old man." He laughs back at me. I roll my eyes and then Piney pulls up in front of the motel room.

"Hang on ladies!" He shouts and we all turn around and sit on the flat bed.

"Shit! Arm up ladies!" Chibs yells. I pass Sack the handgun from Jax's kutte.

I take a deep breath as the truck is then reversed full force into the wall of the motel. We come crashing through and I'm quick to my feet. The adrenaline pulsing through my body, keeping the ache in my ribs at bay as we all jump up and point our guns at the four men in the room.

"Don't move!" Jax yells and I jump down with Happy to free Tig from his binds.

"Or we'll blow your balls off!" Chibs yells as I pull the tape off from Tig's mouth.

I back up and keep my gun trained on one of the men as I help Tig up onto the flat bed. Once he was up, I jump onto it myself and the others follow suit before Piney floors it out of there.

The adrenaline begins to wear off a bit and I collapse next to Tig.

"You alright there, doll?" He asks me. This catches the attention of Jax and Chibs again as my hand comes up to my ribs.

"Yeah, Bobby owes me a few new ribs though." I laugh and Tig chuckles at me.

***

After getting back to the others and getting Tig into the truck with Piney, I walk back over to my bike. Jax is quick behind me and I smile up at him as we clasp hands.

"You did good, sis." He smiles at me and I huff a laugh at him.

"I'm a natural, what can I say?" I ask him. We share a small laugh together before Opie comes over to us. All the tension that had been building between us had came back with full force, causing my smile to fall. Jax seemed to feel this way too as he leads Opie away from me to talk.

Bobby comes up to me with a concerned look in his eyes.

"You alright, sweetheart?" He asks me. "I know you flew off your bike 'cause of me."

"I'm fine. Just banged my ribs up." I reply and he frowns at me. "Honestly Bobby, I'll be alright." I assure him and he puts a hand on my shoulder.

"You're a tough little woman." He laughs and I push him slightly and smile. "Glad to see that you've got a level head on your shoulders too." He sighs and looks over to Jax and then Clay. I follow his eye line before looking back at him.

"Where are you with this?" I ask him. I needed to know that the club would be supporting Jax in this time. Clay needed to see sense and listen to Jax more.

"I just think they need to sort out whatever it is between them." He replies and looks back at me. "And fast." He leaves me to return back to his own bike then. I frown and look down.

I knew that I needed to have Jax's back through this all. It was the whole reason I was in the club in the first place. After reading through the book that my dad had written, I began to see through the cracks that were splitting this club apart. A main factor was Clay and his leadership. He was leading this club right into the ground.

But there was something else. Something even Jax hadn't told me yet and it felt like it was the main bridge that separated him and Clay. I had to figure out what that was before anyone else got hurt.

***

We pull up to the Tacoma boys and cut our engines before Clay talks to the leader of them. It was a quick exchange before we handed off the blankets to the others. I got a few glances come my way and I knew it was because clubs don't usually patch women.

The post-ride party was in full swing. Jax introduced me to some of the Tacoma boys and they were shocked at first to see me with a prospect kutte on. I was soon welcomed in as the little sister and handed a bottle of Jack.

I sat at one of the tables alone for a moment. I had chugged some of the whiskey to act as a numbing agent against the ache in my ribs. But I wouldn't be drinking all night because I needed to be in one piece to pick up Tommy tomorrow.

"Riley!" I turn my head to see Chibs calling me over to join him at a table with Sack, Bobby and Opie. I roll my eyes playfully at him before walking over and crashing down onto the seat next to him.

"Miss me that much, Scotsman?" I tease him and he rolls his eyes at me.

"Aye, lass." He throws his arm around my shoulders and gives me a gentle squeeze. Bobby was preoccupied with rolling up a joint for himself and Opie had resumed his glares at me – to which I ignored.

"Easy there, darling." Chibs says as he turns his attention to the croweater sat on Sack's lap. "Tha' one's got a glass ball."

"Allows me to see the future of my penis." Sack says with a cocky grin on his face.

"How's that working out for you?" I ask him with a raised eyebrow. The croweater on his lap then proceeds to put her hand down his trousers.

"It's looking pretty good." Sack smiles. Chibs and I laugh at his reaction before turning to Bobby.

"You roll a shitty joint." Opie states as Bobby finishes up rolling his joint. He holds it up as though it were an art piece and smiles.

"A masterpiece." He smirks and I laugh at him. Taking a mouthful from the bottle of jack in my hands before passing it over to Chibs to swig.

"We get back, going to lock Jax and Clay in a room. Got to work this shit out." Bobby says as he watches Jax and Clay. I look over to my brother and he gives me a slight nod before walking off.

"It's more than that." Opie grunts. "Jax just needs to get over his dead daddy shit."

At his words I turn to look at him. My eyes narrowed at him and my lips pressed into a thin line. Bobby looked towards Chibs and I knew why when I felt his hand on the back of my arm. I pull out of his grasp and stand up, my chair shooting out from under me.

"The fuck is your problem?" I snap at Opie as he takes a sip from his beer. I grab the bottle from his hands and throw it to the floor. He glares up at me as my heart pounds in my ears.

"You need to get your head out of your ass, Ope." I tell him. He stands up and moves to be right in front of me. The others stand up but don't move towards us yet.

"You're just as bad as your brother." He grunts. "You both have some twig up your ass's, and you need to realise that this is about the club." He then looks past me to Chibs. "Hell, you need to stop sleeping around with them."

At this point I see red. My palm meets with his cheek and his head snaps to the side. My body was shaking with rage as he turned his head back towards me.

"Donna would be sick to see you like this." I growl at him. Before he gets the chance to say anything else, Bobby grabs his arms and I walk past Chibs to get away from him before I hit him again.

[walls-dmc5]

Walls - 5th chapter “Back To Red Grave”

Words: 6,9k

Warnings: canon-typical violence

Hope you enjoy! 🌹

Cara looked after the truck that brought her as close to the city of Red Grave as possible as it drove away again, leaving her alone in the city again. This probably has been the last favor she could ask of the guys at the military base she worked at, but nonetheless she was grateful that they brought her here.

Everything looked absolutely horrid. Everything was broken, burnt, crumbled. This city looks like it has been subjected to a war and was bombed until it was only ruins. She really hoped most people made it out of this after all.

The tree - Qliphoth - stood high and threatening in the distance, roots spreading from it, red clouds and fog of blood engulfing the crown. Without disturbances it would take a few hours to reach it, but approaching it without a plan of attack, without a strategy would only end in all of their deaths. While Cara had a very simple idea, which was all she found and could come up with after meeting V in the library, she needed to talk to V about this again. He seemed like he could either confirm or deny that theory.

But first she would need to find him.

It was still the middle of the night, and she knew it was way too dangerous to wander the demon-invaded streets of the city on her own. But until she really got to the town centre she would still need to walk a while. And then she would stay hidden until the sun rose. Fighting demons in the night was of course possible. But a town where electricity was barely functioning anymore, where demons lurked in every shadow… it was a risk she simply could not take.

She would meet up with Nero and Nico at the same place she would hopefully meet up with V. He said he’d be waiting at the church square, so she passed that info on to Nero in Fortuna (it was a good idea to ask for Nico’s phone number four weeks ago after all).

Cara pushed the sleeves of her thin black coated jacket up to her elbows and adjusted her backpack on her shoulders and made her way towards Red Grave.

This is it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Nero watched in satisfaction as the ugly houseplant demon disintegrated into dust and only left a puddle of blood behind. A surge of electricity surged through his right prosthetic arm, leaving a tickling feeling behind. He would have to get used to that one. But he couldn’t deny how his body was almost aching for testing it more, for beating up more demons, just to see what this thing could do.

He was back in the game.

Nico drove up to him in the van now that the road was clear of demons and they could continue driving into the city.

“Hey, tough guy. That’ll keep ‘em, but not for long,” Nico said leaning her arm on the open window of the van.

“What do you mean?”

“Soldier boy said city’s goin’ to hell and back, taken over by the underworld. Not just here, but everywhere.”

Nero didn’t reply to her. His brows furrowed and he almost instinctively reached for his right arm, placing his hand right above the metal that now covered his stump. All of this was caused by his arm. By Yamato. By that demon that stole it.

Nero’s eyes glided over the burning street, the destroyed cars and buildings, the roots of the tree spreading everywhere…

… none of this would’ve happened without his arm.

“Yamato did this,” he whispered into the early morning, as memories of that fateful day a few weeks ago flashed through his mind.

He remembered the man appearing in his garage, remembered the glow of his arm, remembered the groaning and coughing of the man, remembered the man’s voice, remembered the pain as his arm was torn off effortlessly, so much pain… and blood… there was blood everywhere… He remembered seeing Yamato through his dizzy mind, a rift… then darkness. Nothing but darkness as the pain and blood loss overcame his body and shut it down.

And when he opened his eyes the next time he was looking into V’s face entering his bedroom through the window, telling him about helping Dante, that he knew who took his arm and that they all needed his help…

All of this had led up to this.

“Hey, stop dreaming, boy. Get a move on.”

Nero looked at the woman still leaning out of the van through the window, one of his eyebrows raised, his lips pursed. He made a waving motion with his hand but got into the van. Not a snarky remark, no comment, he just sat down in the passenger seat and stared ahead as Nico started the engine again.

Time to meet up with V and Cara again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cara sat down on a heap of debris when she was sure no demon was around anymore. She placed the Kama back into the sheath around her left thigh. She sighed when she stretched her legs and allowed herself the moment of rest in the early morning hours; by now at least the sun has risen. The distant sounds of demons screeching and growling were probably something she would need to get used to while being in Red Grave City, but at least no threat was around anymore. She stayed on her guard though. She was in a street without any side roads. And while it was risky because she could get approached by demons from both sides, the street was broad enough for her to get past them if she needed to escape.

She used this moment of rest to pull out her notebook and pen. It was something for her to cling to. Gathering all this info here in the city now for her to study in more detail and use for her work later.

Later.

When all of this was over.

When the tree was taken down.

And when she corrected her mistake.

She started scribbling down notes what she observed and figured out about the demons she encountered so far. There was nothing new to observe about the Empusas, same went for the Hell Cainas. She was pretty sure she saw some  flying demons looking like bats as well, though she couldn’t tell from a distance what demons they were exactly. Maybe Pyrobats… but she would need to encounter one directly to pinpoint it exactly. And if she could avoid it she would stay away from them because flying enemies were the worst kind of enemies she could take on by herself. But still, she wrote down everything she figured out. Attack patterns, movements, eventual strategies, mostly in words because she couldn’t draw to save her life; all the while keeping one eye and ear on her surroundings, paying close attention whether or not a demon may be too close for comfort.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I turn my eyes; and pensive as I go

Curse my black stars and bless my pleasing woe.”

The words drifted through his mind, entangling his soul in such a beautiful net of delicate images and captivating words that a notion of delight scraped against his ribcage, begging to be let in and to wrap up his heart in the same confinement.

The flaps of Griffon’s wings broke the spell of the book before the words even had a chance of penetrating his chest.

The blue demon landed next to him on the remains of a broken wall, shook his feathered body and craned his neck, ridding himself off dust and the exertion of his investigation of the area. Shadow lying by V’s feet looked up at the noise, growling softy, her markings lighting up, illuminating her shiny black fur in a pink and lucid glow.

“Alright, Shakespeare. It seems the youngster has arrived. He’s at the hotel we’ve been to a few days ago. Oh! I also spotted that soldier girl nearby. Guess she really showed up, hu?!”

V closed the book in his hand and put it back beneath his vest, close to him and safe from unwanted hands before he grabbed his cane and rose from his position.

He assumed the woman would show up. Everything about her words and actions back then in the Devil May Cry and even in the tree spoke of genuineness. In the library her questions and replies were sincere, no dishonesty in her eyes, nothing about her body language suggested she would not be here at this day.

He couldn’t say the same about her motives however.

If she had some ulterior motives she hid them well, and V had no idea about her lying capabilities. Nor about her morals in doing so. She could be an honest person as much as she could be deceiving them for all his experiences in the past with strangers taught him.

And until he had a clear answer, until he had the confirmation that her words and motives have always been genuine he would keep her at arms length and feed her the portions of the truth and story she needed for him to keep her on this track.

They needed all the help they could get.

And she has proven herself to be useful.

He would see where her story went in this ordeal.

“I suppose we get going then,” V spoke, the hints of a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. He assumed the boy would be able to take on the demons by himself. Even without his arm he still was a descendant of the Sparda bloodline, it should grant him enough potential to oppose the hordes of darkness and cruelty that were thrown upon them.

Shadow returned to him, dissolving into black smoke and particles, her markings appearing on his body again, while Griffon stuck close to him, the flap of his wings a familiar sound in his ears as he walked down the destroyed streets of the city.

The woman was on alert the moment as soon as he stepped into sight and earshot, shoulders tensed, she jumped to her feet, one hand on her weapon; no doubt she’s been caught up in precarious situations before. Though when she really saw him her body visibly relaxed again; she didn’t see him as a threat. And still he hasn’t gotten the impression from her that she trusted him. She has seen through him in the library, easily deducting that he knew much more about Urizen than he told her.

Impressive, he knew about his rhetorical skills, he knew one could not see through him if he did not want them to. A smirk tugging on his lips, a stern glance in his eyes, a confident stance; people believed him and did not question him if he fed them information.

“Haha, at ease, soldier! It’s just us,” his avian companion floated around her, a chuckle leaving his parted beak, his yellow eyes gleaming with faint mockery and amusement.

“I wasn’t expecting to find you so soon,” she said focusing her gaze on V. The right corner of his lips twitched upwards the slightest bit, a gesture barely noticeable but he saw her blue eyes following it still.

Griffon chuckled again.

“Sweetie, what do you think these eyes are for?”

“Are they meant for more than to dodge people attempting to put you in an oven?”

V actually smirked at that. There was an ounce of respect for every person that managed to counter the demon’s attempts to mock and belittle someone, for every soul that did not hold back because he was a demon and because a flap of his wings could turn a human into ashes blowing away with the wind. And he certainly did find amusement in such banters. A little spark of joy and fun in the midst of obscurity and hopelessness that kept him in a bruising hold for years.

“Ohooo, how feisty.”

“We should go.” V interrupted the little banter as entertaining as it may was. They should make some progress and meet up with the boy. While he could deal with the demons himself they did need to meet up. There was no way to emerge victorious out of this situation without him.

And by now he definitely was ahead of them.

He heard her quick footsteps behind him after he turned around to walk away to catch up to him.

“V,” she said and V only looked at her out of her peripheral vision quickly, but she was observant enough to notice that she had his attention, even though he kept his gaze focused on his environment to look out for the demons swarming the city.

“A few weeks ago you said that the Qliphoth was a tree. I tried to look deeper into it, and there’s info to be found on that tree or how to take it down. So I researched demonic plants generally a bit more. And...”

He looked at her again though did not say anything, just signaling her that he was still listening as she made a pause. In the back of his mind he realized how she not only listened to him in the library, she also believed him and used that new knowledge as the base of her further research. From the way she was talking and the sound of her voice he could tell there was almost a sense of excitement awakening inside of her. As if the words and thoughts have been stuck on the tip of her tongue and just waited to be set free.

Has she been waiting to tell him about this the whole time?

V did not know what to make of that thought. Hard to fathom, hard to believe, not to mention that there has not been anyone who has been waiting for him since he was a little child, so there hardly was a chance of the situation being different now.

“Can’t we just try to chop it down? As huge as it is, but from what I’ve gathered it still is a demon plant and these almost have the same weaknesses as well, normal plants.”

“An interesting thought,” he commented, and he noticed her face lighting up with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes. She definitely knew how to do her research. While V knew about the Qliphoth, about Urizen and how that entity worked and came into existence, he did not know about ways to take it down. One must beat Urizen in battle to gain the fruit, but was there a way to make it easier? To maybe take the Qliphoth down without fighting him? That was the theory he also came to the library for that day.

“And not too far from what we will have to do,” he told her. She looked at him and even without returning her gaze V knew she was silently asking him to elaborate.

“We will have to exterminate the roots of the Qliphoth. It may take a while but as it is, it’s our only chance of weakening the Qliphoth.”

Weakening the Qliphoth meant weakening Urizen. And no matter how fragile the chance was that it would weaken him enough to make a difference when the boy fought him again, it was at this point their - his - only hope. He did not want to fail. He could not fail. He was not ready to face the consequences of that.

Urizen had to be beaten.

“That may take days,” the woman said after a longer pause of thinking.

“Indeed.”

They would have to deal with that issue later when they reached the boy and that young hunter was apparently rather busy in dealing with a rather huge demon on top of the still standing church right now. V tilted his head as he watched the scene from a distance as they got closer to the church square. He assumed that church wouldn’t be standing for that much longer.

“Woah!” the woman called out as she noticed what was happening and she walked a few steps ahead of them to catch a better look at the battle.

He recognized the demon’s giant body and its dark brown fur pretty soon.

“Goliath. Interesting to find him here,” Griffon said, flying a bit lower to avoid being seen, though the battle seemed to have both fighters engaged rather well.

“Goliath?” the woman asked, turning to them for a short moment.

“A powerful demon, but not really intelligent,” V simply explained. Goliath surely had an interesting ability but nothing that should be hindering Nero or giving the boy some trouble.

They stopped walking when they reached the edge of the church square, staying behind piles of debris and rubble that were bigger than them but with a small passage to still enter the square without issues. A good hiding and waiting spot for them until the battle was done.

An ear-deafening sound of breaking stone filled the air. Marble crumbled, stone broke, metal bent, waves of dust filled the air as the church collapsed under the attacks of the giant demon.

V barely moved, he just watched as the old architecture was turned into ruins as the battle continued, now right in front of them.

The young woman cowered behind the walls of debris in front of her, covering her eyes from the slowly settling dust before she turned to him.

“Does he need our help?” she asked. V shook his head once, strays of black hair obscuring his eyes for a moment. He saw her swallow. There was a conflict all over her as if she didn’t know what to do. She was human, that V knew, so there was hardly anything she could do against Goliath and she probably was well aware of that too. However, if all her words about correcting her mistake and making up for it were true, then her conscience did its best to persuade her. This was a battle of the mind and soul and in her attempt to stay rational she turned to him.

“He can handle this for now.”

“Yeah, would be pretty pathetic getting killed by such a no-brainer,” Griffon mused landing on some rubble near to the ground.

She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, but she nodded. V watched her as her backpack hit the ground and she threw her long brown hair over her back, before she turned around and climbed a bit onto the pile of debris until she was completely leaning onto it and could peek over the edge of it and watch the fight.

V’s eyebrow rose barely visible at the little scene but his gaze stayed on her back for a moment longer. She was dressed for the occasion. None of her clothes were restrictive in movements, the materials looked fitting(Griffon would give him a run for his money if he heard V talking about being properly dressed for battle…); that woman surely had experience in field operations. She has done this before.

V did not regret his decision of involving her when he told her to come alongside them into the tree.

He pulled out his book and sat down; waiting until the boy would beat Goliath so that they could make their move.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cara watched completely intrigued at the battle happening in front of her. She has never seen such a demon before. Aside from its sheer size and that very peculiar ability with the mouth on his belly, he also had fur. There were barely any demons which had fur and she had a hard time coming up with any other demon like him in this instant.

She watched as Nero continuously struck the demon with his sword, splatters of blood flying through the air but the demon was surprisingly sturdy, taking hit after hit, shot after shot and it only ever made a step back before launching at Nero again. She watched as Nero used a mechanic on his arm (was that the idea nico talked about?) to latch a wire onto the demon to drag himself close to it again. She watched as the demon threw powerful punches and kicks at Nero, watched as it opened that mouth on its belly and shot fireballs at Nero. She watched full of intrigue, almost forgetting that she was dangerously close to the battle herself, almost forgetting about the man and bird behind her.

Cara turned her head around, wanting to know what V was doing since he hasn’t said anything in a while and for all she knew he might’ve left, but…

… he was reading?!

He seriously was sitting there. On some rubble. His book in his hands. His eyes fixated on the pages, a look of calm disinterest to his surroundings on his face.

Cara blinked multiple times and her lips parted, the battle for a moment forgotten.

“You are reading now?!” the words left her mouth before she could stop them and she was definitely judging him. How could he have the nerves to stay calm to read right now?!

“There’s nothing for us to do. Might as well pass the time.” he sounded almost bored, as if he was waiting for the bus to pick him up. Cara just stared at him. Did he really not care? What if Nero got in trouble after all?

Cara shook her head and turned around again.

Just in time to witness as the demon - Goliath - unleashed a new attack. Cara had no idea what happened but suddenly he opened his belly mouth and a beam of twirling flames erupted from it. The flames consumed more of the environment, pulling in everything in its path and Cara had to duck, had to cower behind the debris to not risk getting into the path of this powerful attack. She didn’t have a chance to watch, didn’t have a chance to see what happened to Nero.

And only when the sound of the flames ceased and she didn’t feel the pull of the energy in the air anymore did she look up again.

And luckily Nero was alright; already lunging at the demon once more.

Cara grabbed her backpack real quick before the battle was over and she may not get the chance anymore. She had her notebook and pen in hands immediately and leaned back over the rubble and started scribbling down notes. Details about the demon’s looks, its attack patterns, its skills, thoughts about a potential strategy; everything she could come up with right away.

“You’re writing now?!”

Cara felt as if someone caught her doing something absolutely embarrassing. She was even sure her shoulders twitched for a moment as V mimicked her earlier words and turned this situation around just like that.

He totally caught her.

He was reading but she was taking the time to write notes while a fierce battle took place.

She pursed her lips, her ears were burning, she felt like a kid that has been caught lying, but she still turned around.

V had his head slightly turned to her, a smirk adorning his face and for the first time Cara saw something almost playful glistening in his green eyes, as if for just a moment a part of his walls has crumbled down to allow this moment of jesting, to allow some genuine emotions to be visible in his deep green eyes. She was totally caught of guard by his unexpected display of a sense of humour and the expression directed at her.

“Hehehe, he’s gotcha, sweetie.”

Cara did not know if she was grateful for the bird’s interruption or if she wanted to fry him in a pan.

V’s expression dropped and he returned his gaze to the book again and somehow Cara felt her shoulders relaxing a bit. She looked at the chuckling bird instead.

“Yeah, yeah, you got me,” she made a waving gesture with her hands, granting the demon that little victory in their banter because she honestly had no response to counter that.

A painful roar could be heard along with some more stone crumbling and collapsing and Cara returned to her observation point at once.

There was the demon Goliath, thrown back by Nero, the hunter slowly approaching him. It seemed as if Nero had won. Or was about to at least.

“The fruit… is mine… I will rule the underworld, not him…!”

Cara furrowed her brows as the words of the demon reached her ears. Fruit? King? What was he talking about?

“Alright, my turn now!”

The blue feathered demon stretched his wings before he took off, flying right past Cara, swirling up her curly hair in the process. Cara watched as the bird flew around Goliath like an annoying fly around one’s head, not attacking, not saying anything, just distracting the demon and evading its arms that tried to hit him.

She didn’t even notice how V stood up and walked right passed her, his book still in hand, his eyes still locked on the pages, swinging his cane around as if he took a relaxing walk through the city. Everything about him just spoke of calm and composure, he wasn’t in the slightest worried about the situation that Cara almost envied him. She knew how to stay calm and rational in battle, it saved her life countless times, but this was the result of long and hard training.

“I curse my stars in bitter grief and woe,

That made my love so high and me so low.”

Another quote Cara didn’t recognize nor could really tell if it meant anything or if V was just being really extra when he introduced himself to people and situations.

She stayed behind and watched as he raised his cane and pointed it at the demon. Her eyes widened when wisps of smoke appeared around his arm, shiny black clouds spread right from the cane into the air, particles that looked like splatter of ink filled the air and this time she could clearly see how some of his tattoos on his arms vanished.

And before she knew it the black panther demon emerged from the cloud of black fog, charging like a bullet at the huge demon with a roar. The panther turned its body, starting to curl in midair and almost seemed to transform into a blade like from a circular saw.

Goliath growled in pain, blood splattered through the air, covering the white marble of the remains of the church in a crimson red color before the demon fell, groaning in pain and unable to move.

And it started glowing.

That same purple colored light she saw appearing around demons in the tree.

Before V killed them.

V approached him. Calmly. Slowly. Cara could only see his back but there was no hesitation, no faltering in his steps as he got closer to Goliath.

“Why… Why are you…?”

Cara furrowed her brows at that. The demon stared at V as he approached him, undoubtedly referring to him. But these words… this is the kind of question you asked someone after one figured out they betrayed them.

She stared at V’s back as he raised his cane on his eye-level, suspicion and distrust in her blue eyes. She assumed she had to be careful around him after all.

“Little wanderer, hie thee home.”

And with that the man stabbed his cane right between Goliath’s eyes. There was barely a sound coming from the demon as he had nothing left to evade this lethal attack, and when V retreated the cane again, blood dripping from its tip, the demon almost immediately started to dissolve, leaving nothing but a puddle of blood behind.

Cara didn’t say anything as she now walked closer to V and Nero who approached the man as well again.

“Thought I was gonna have to pick you out of his… tummy teeth,” Nero said and V smiled at that.

“Pardon my delay, I was catching up on some reading,” he replied and showed the demon hunter his book of poems. Cara chuckled to herself. V really seemed excited about this. The way he chose his words and emphasized them did seem genuine and heartfelt. It made Cara wonder just how distant he truly was. Neither this moment nor the one earlier when he mimicked her words indicated that he was cold in the first place.

And still Cara got the feeling that Nero couldn’t get past his shield more than this moment as well. V seemed to throw these glimpses of his sense of humor and his love for this particular book at them both, but refused to let them see anything beyond that.

“Yeah… looks like a real page-turner,” Nero kinda disregarded his statement before he turned to her.

“So you’re here too, hu? You know, we could’ve picked you up. I know you have our number at least.”

She raised her eyebrows a bit. She did have Nico’s number and she did call her a few days ago, telling her that V would wait for them right here today, but she didn’t feel like she belonged to this little group of people and since Nico didn’t offer it herself she stayed silent.

“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind for next time then,” she smiled at the younger man who simply made a ‘hmph’ sound.

“Hehe, I assume we’re just much better company than you, kid,” the bird demon chimed in floating around their heads and chuckling. Cara wasn’t so sure about that since she barely knew Nero but she also wasn’t going to deny that the time spent with them on their way here was rather pleasant. It could’ve been much worse on every level.

Nero shook his head, his brows harshly furrowed as he turned around to V who was looking at the Qliphoth in the distance.

Cara looked down at the black panther demon who sat down on the ground next to her. Black shiny fur, glowing red eyes with too much intelligence in them to be a simple animal, some deeper markings covering the body. It was a beautiful creature.

Cara crouched down a bit to be more on eye level with the panther, her fascination and curiosity with the creature getting the better of her. But she kept listening to V’s and Nero’s conversation, so she could get involved if necessary.

“So… you think Dante’s still in there?”

“If Urizen defeated him, then I expect he’s not much more than Qliphoth pollen by now.”

V for sure had a sense of humor, Cara had to hand it to him, but the implications that Dante still may have survived that fight four weeks ago was as surprising as it was interesting. But what about the other two women who were with him?

The panther turned its attention to her now. Those red glowing eyes watching her cautiously, analyzing her whether or not she was a threat in its very own mind. Cara wasn’t afraid, even though she knew that demon could end her life with just one paw. But V wouldn’t let the demon stay around if it would attack them, she assumed.

She very slowly reached out to the demon with her open palm, just testing the waters and letting the demon decide how to react to that gesture; all the while she listened to the conversation going on between V and Nero, but V was just explaining what the Qliphoth was and how they needed to exterminate its roots first before they could approach the tree directly again.

Cara smiled, a joyful glance in her eyes as the panther leaned into her hand and allowed the young woman to pet it. Demon or not, it seemed to be just a giant cat after all.

“Looks like our soldier girl has tamed the big bad kitty,” the demon bird commented the scene, leading to V and Nero turning to her again. She didn’t look at them, instead focusing on that giant cat demon in front of her that was closing its eyes and tilting its head as Cara scratched it behind its ears.

“Does it have a name?” she asked, only once looking at V quickly who was observing her out of rather thoughtful eyes. Nero just had his eyebrows raised and his lips pursed a bit.

“Her name is Shadow,” V replied. Cara smiled at him and the demon.

“You’re a good girl then, hu? Fighting big demons like that,” the demon growled just slightly but Cara was almost certain it was an appreciative sound from her.

“I’m Griffon by the way, thanks for asking,” the blue bird pouted, landing on V’s raised arm and Cara laughed. She didn’t think it was possible but just these earlier moments with this little scene managed to lift her spirit more than she would’ve imagined before coming here. V displaying his sense of humor, playfully mocking her even, this lighthearted bickering with Griffon, the new information about this giant demon she managed to gather, befriending a demonic panther apparently. She just wished V would be a bit more trustworthy. Still, she didn’t expect any of this to happen during her time here, but she was glad about it. It made this whole apocalyptic situation muss less dull and hopeless.

“V,” Nero finally spoke up after witnessing all of this and staring at the two demons accompanying V.

“What the hell are you?”

Cara thought the question was rather harsh and she only caught a smirk on V’s face, but before he could answer (if he intended to do that in the first place) the sound of an engine stopped all of their thoughts.

They spun around on their heels, mind and body on alert but relaxed pretty quickly again when a van stopped right in front of them and Nico suddenly leaned out of the window.

“I know, I know, I’m late. Shut it! The roads were all clogged. Oh, good to see you again, girl. Hey to you too, V,” Nico directed the first words at Nero alone, pointing a finger at him to dare him to say anything before she waved to Cara and then nodded at V.

Cara didn’t say anything but waved back. She has spoken to Nico once after that night in Fortuna, telling her that V said they would meet up here. There was a bit of smalltalk happening on the phone but sadly no deeper or more meaningful conversation because Cara had a feeling that Nico had a lot of interesting stories to tell and she didn’t seem as reserved as V or even the other people back then at the office where she met Dante.

“Hey, you gonna get that? Ding, ding, ding, right by your feet!”

V threw her the horn that the demon lost in his battle against Nero with his cane.

“I’m gonna make something amaaazing out of this.”

“Did you just sniff that? Do you have any idea where that’s been?”

“Up your butt?”

“Focus on the mission.”

Cara smiled at that banter between Nero and Nico. Nero was visibly agitated but he didn’t seem to take any offense to Nico’s words who just smiled unmoved at the hunter. Cara wondered for how long these two have been knowing each other. They didn’t seem as if they were related but still, they gave off this typical brother-sister vibe. Then again, it was hardly Cara’s place to ask them about this. Maybe they got the chance to talk about this stuff later on the road.

“Get in the car everyone.”

The car was more a trailer from the inside than anything. Cara was completely astonished as she saw the interior. A workstation, a kitchen, a separate room even (she assumed it was a toilet), a jukebox and even a table with some seating possibilities.

“Alright, where to go next?” Nico asked from the driver’s seat. Nero sat down on the passenger seat next to her but he didn’t answer her. Neither did Cara because she had no idea yet.

V walked past her and she noticed how Griffon and Shadow were not around anymore. But V’s tattoos were all completely visible again. She would have to ask him about it at some point. She desperately wanted to know how this worked. Especially how V managed to make these demons follow and obey him like this.

“I give you directions. It will take a few days to exterminate the Qliphoth roots. We need a place to stay for the nights.”

“A place to stay? Where? Even the hotels are overrun by demons,” Nero countered.

“Do we even have days?” Cara interfered.

“Time surely is a luxury  at this point but without exterminating the roots we cannot proceed.”

So exterminating the roots was essential but they were still running against the clock. And not pressing forward in the night was only natural with barely any lighting and having all these different kinds of demons around. This could easily be fatal even for someone like Nero (it was undeniable that something was off about him as well or else V never would’ve said that they needed him if they wanted to succeed).

“Gotcha. Tell me where to go, mystery boy.”

V ignored the pet name and Cara almost smiled at it but as she realized how truthful that pet name actually was the smile kinda got stuck, never actually reaching her lips.

After a while of hellish driving - seriously Cara thought she might get a whiplash injury from it - they certainly did not arrive at a hotel. It was a rather broad street in a residential area of Red Grave - or what’s left of it - with lots of smaller houses, some rather intact, others have collapsed completely under the weight of the roots.

V left the car first, approaching one of the still rather undamaged houses. The roof had a few issues and it didn’t look as if the door could still get locked but the walls and windows still looked fine otherwise.

Given how the apocalypse was happening outside the house looked quite normal from the inside actually. They stood right in the living room after entering. A three-piece suite with a coffee table pretty much took up the entire room and only left space to reach the other rooms. Everything was quite dusty, lots of stuff has fallen over as if an earthquake has shaken this place up.

However, there was a pillow and a blanket on one of the couches, not folden, it looked like it was used recently.

Did V stay here before?

It was the only logical conclusion in that moment. V brought them to this house on purpose, he knew where it was and for all Cara knew the man might have been living here this whole time or even before.

“What now?” she heard Nero ask as she went over to a dresser at the wall. She picked up a fallen photograph. That was definitely not V. A young couple was depicted on it but the man couldn’t have looked more different. The other photographs didn’t look like him either. She assumed it wasn’t his place after all.

“We’ll stay here for the nights. And tomorrow we’ll start extinguishing the Qliphoth roots,” V said and sat down on the couch with the pillow and blanket.

“There are two more beds upstairs,” he answered the question that hung in the room and Cara suddenly had the feeling that she really did not want to sleep in these beds. These beds have been used by strangers before, probably without getting cleaned and who knows what happened to these people. She wouldn’t find proper sleep there.

“I’ll gladly stay down here and take the couch,” she said and Nico started laughing. Probably because how Cara felt was very obvious judging by her expression.

“Whatever.” Nero just said.

“I certainly don’t mind a proper bed,” Nico grinned, stretching her arms above her head.

“Good that we have cleared everyone’s preferences,” Nero said, this time with a smirk of his own.

Cara shook her head slightly but made her way into the kitchen to see whether or not there was still something edible in there for them.

While there wasn’t a lot and more instant and microwave stuff than anything fresh it was better than nothing.

“Is this your place?” she dared to ask V after Nero has cleaned the area of any remaining demons in the late evening so they could get some hours of sleep that night. Nico and Nero have went upstairs already and Cara must admit that she was getting really tired too.

“No,” the man replied “I found it when I returned here a few weeks ago.”

“Do you know what happened to the owners?”

“Probably sacrificed to the Qliphoth. The odds that they have been evacuated in time is unlikely,” V told her, his face focused once more on the pages of his book.

Cara nodded. She just was curious about this, maybe too much. She decided that she has asked him enough for one day and that she would let him read in peace. Her eyes were getting heavy too. She laid down on the couch, her back to him and pulled up the blanket she found in the dresser earlier.

She murmured a goodnight to the man, but she wasn’t sure if he heard her. Not to mention if he said something in return.

She was glad she could fall asleep within a few minutes because she felt she would need every minute of rest she could get, and it was kinda awkward with V being wide awake on the other side of the couch...

[inconvenient-sneezes]

chapter 3 of the walking dead fic, “something wicked this way comes.” 

read chapter 1 read chapter 2

Chapter 3: The Day Will Come

Negan continued to drive and for a couple hours, it began to rain. Hard. The droplets pelted the RV’s metal roof and the resulting sound inside the trailer was nearly deafening.

He would’ve have been able to hear if Rick snuck up on him again. Negan let his mind wander and imagined Rick, tip-toeing behind the driver’s seat, raising that heavy weapon above his head until he let gravity take over, smashing Negan’s skull. He pictured his own brain’s grey and white matter splattered on the windshield and on the seat.

He let the intrusive thoughts go, determined to stay realistic. After all, he wasn’t really worried about Rick, mostly because he had locked Rick up in the back room, and Negan could still feel the key in his pocket. He wasn’t surprised when Rick didn’t put up a fight, but he was also a bit relieved. He could feel himself getting sicker by the minute and new this headcold was going to kick him on his ass.

Without taking his hands off the wheel, he sneezed loudly into his shoulder. “Hh’EHSHOO!”

The silence following was noticeable. Negan half-expected to hear Rick call out a “bless you!” 

He shook his head, as if trying to clear it, and ended up sneezing again. “Uh’SSHHSHOO!”

The second sneeze made his head hurt, and he was surprised when he heard himself audibly groan.

Thankfully, they were almost back. After a few minutes, he took his foot off the gas pedal and the trailer squealed as Negan applied the brakes.

Negan unlocked Rick’s door and sniffed, staring at him. When Rick didn’t move, Negan slammed his fist on the wall. “Hey.”

“We’re here, prick,��� he said nasally, opening the door wider. “Aw, is this hard for you?”

Rick didn’t answer. No surprise there, Negan thought. The silence pressed him to continue.

“Rick, you’ve been king for some time. It m-must have been hard to see two of your— hh’ESHHOO!” 

Negan snapped forward with another desperate-sounding sneeze and silently hoped he wouldn’t sneeze again. Weak-willed men disgusted him and having a cold made him feel… weak. There was no other way to describe it.

“It must’ve been hard to see two of your own gone, just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “Getting them clipped like that — one nut, then the other — and in front of your boy? Whew, that had to be tough.”

Negan shook his head, and took the opportunity to quickly run a finger under his nostrils, sniffling again.

“I mean, hey. That’s some fucked up shit.”

He opened the trailer’s medicine cabinet and snatched a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, smiling to himself. Oh, goody. He picked up the axe and rubbed the bloody blade on Rick’s leather jacket, smearing the innards of walkers and probably human victims on his clothes. Rick resisted the urge to duck out of his way.

Then Negan opened the bottle of peroxide and watched its contents escape as he poured the stuff all over the blade. He was grateful he was so congested, because the smell of hydrogen peroxide made him nauseous.

“Boom, boom. Well, that’s all over isn’t it? Over and done with, huh?”

Rick shrugged away from him as Negan sat down, wiping the axe off with a dirty towel. Negan did so in the quiet, until he decided to fill the space with some words of wisdom.

“But you know, you can still be a leader, Rick. You can lead a productive, fruitful life, producing for me. What’s better than that?”

Like usual, Rick didn’t answer. His blue eyes looked watery as Negan extended the now-clean axe across the table. A peace offering. Not really.

“You’ll need it,” he said, holding it out. “I just got a feeling.”

He sniffled, waiting for Rick to take it, and rubbed his nose, aggravated. “Take it, Rick. Jesus Christ.”

Rick snatched the weapon from Negan without saying a word. After a few tense seconds, Negan suddenly grabbed Rick by his collar and dragged him out of the trailer, just like before. They were surrounded by others — the Saviors, all standing in a circle staring at them — and Negan wanted a final show. He threw Rick to ground, who landed face first.

“Let me ask you something Rick,” Negan said, his sinuses prickling. Fuck. “Do you even know what that little trip was a-ahhh… about?

Rick began to pull himself out of the dirt as Negan’s breath caught again and he snapped forward with a loud sneeze. “Hih’RDSCHOO!”

Nearby, one of the Saviors jumped at the sudden sound. Rick’s son, Carl, watched his father stand, shakily.

Negan rubbed his nose on his sleeve, irritated. “Speak when you’re spoken to,” he snapped at the man in front of him.

“Okay,” Rick said, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

“We took that trip because of the way you looked at me,” Negan explained, still sniffling. 

If only his goddamn nose would stop running. “I needed to change that. I needed to change that look on your face, you know?”

As Rick looked up at him, Negan shook his head. Rick was still looking at him the same damn way as before. His spirit was seemingly unbreakable.

“Should I give you another chance, Rick? Because I’m just not sure.”

Rick nodded before his voice returned. “Y-yes,” he said, his words barely a whisper. “Yes.”

Negan smiled, flashing his teeth. “Let’s get back to it, then. It’s been a shit day, hasn’t it?”

He didn’t wait for Rick to respond. “Let’s see if it’s just going to be your shit day, or everyone’s last shit day. What do you think?”

Negan watched Rick glace around at the other’s from his group. Michonne. Carl. Daryl. Most of them didn’t look it, but they were afraid.

“L-let’s get some guns on ’em,” Negan stammered before snapping forward with another sneeze. “Huh’SZSHOOO!”

The Saviors did as ordered, and handful of them cocked their weapon and put it against the skulls of Rick’s people. Negan saw Rick’s Adam’s apple bob and Negan felt his stomach flip. There was something about seeing true fear in another man that did things to him.

Negan snuffled into the back of his hand, shaking his head. “If y’all have to fire, man. This is going to make a real big mess.”

He pointed at Carl and saw the light in Rick’s eyes disappear. “Hey kid,” Negan said, beckoning Carl over.

“Come here. Right here.” 

Wordlessly, Carl stood up from where he’d been kneeling and walking toward his father and the man holding his father captive. He stared fearlessly at Negan.

“You use your left hand a lot?”

“What?” Carl snapped, defensive.

Negan smirked, patient. “Are you a lefty?”

“Nope.”

He nodded, examining a long, leather belt in his hand. “Alright, good.”

Negan grabbed Carl’s left arm roughly and tightened the belt around it, sniffling all the while. Fuck this stupid cold. He was making a makeshift tourniquet, whether or not the kid knew it. All that was important to Negan was that Rick knew what he was doing to his son.

“That hurt?” he asked, tightening the belt some more.

Carl shook his head. “No.”

“It’s supposed to,” he said, snatching Carl’s hat off his head and tossing it to one of the Saviors. “Alright, sit down next to your daddy. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Carl knelt on the gravel until Negan pushed him flat on his stomach, then nodded, satisfied. He felt the urge to sneeze again, but fought it off, blinking back tears.

Negan then searched the group of people until he saw the man he was looking for. “Hey, Simon. You got a pen I can borrow?”

The other man nodded. “Sure,” he said, tossing a marker Negan’s way. Negan took the marker and drew a thick, black line on the upper half of Carl’s arm.

“There we go. Perfect. Couldn’t have done it better.”

“Please,” Rick said, his voice hushed and barely above a whisper. “Please don’t. Don’t do it.”

Negan chuckled, then gasped with the sudden urge to sneeze. “H-huh! Huh’FFSHHOO! Ooh, did I get ya?”

Rick ignored it. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, voice cracking.

“Me?” Negan smiled, spitting into the dirt. “Oh, I ain’t doing shit.”

He dragged his forearm under his nose before continuing. “Listen, Rick. I want you to use that axe and just go ahead and cut your son’s left arm off. That’s it. Just right on that line I drew.”

Neither Carl nor Rick said a word. The area was silent, save for Negan’s quick sniffs.

“Okay, I get it. You’re processing what I just said. That’s fine. I still need you to do it, though,” Negan said, gesturing to Rick’s people. “Or all these folks here are going to die.”

This time, it was Michonne who spoke up. “Please, you don’t have to do this. We understand — we all do,” she told him shakily.

Negan shook his head. “No, see, you understand. I don’t think old Rick here gets it. E-ehh… excuse me for one— hh’PFSSHSH!”

He rubbed his pink nostrils before continuing. “Listen, it needs to be a clean slice. I know it’s fucked up to say, but kind of like a slice of salami. Just a clean cut, nothing messy.”

Rick didn’t move.

“We have a great doctor here,” Negan said, smiling. “The kid will be fine, probably.”

Negan saw a bead of sweat drip down Rick’s forehead. “Rick, I need this now. Let’s go.”

“Let it be me,” Rick said, voice trembling. “Do it to me. Please.”

Negan shook his head. “Uh huh. That’s not what I want. Pick up the axe, Rick.”

When Rick didn’t move, Negan grabbed Lucille. “If you don’t make a decision Rick, you’re making an even bigger decision. You really want these people to die? You’ll see every little thing — every ugly thing — and your eyes will be wide open the whole time.”

Rick moaned but it didn’t sound human. It was the noise of a broken animal. Negan slammed Lucille on the ground. “I’m counting! Three!”

“Please,” Rick sobbed. “It can be me. It can be me.”

“Two!” All this yelling was sure hurting his sore throat.

“Please don’t do this,” Rick cried out.

Negan slapped his face and grabbed his chin, pulled Rick close to him. He started into Rick’s watery eyes, resisting the urge to sneeze again. The man looked soulless.

“Rick, this is it,” he said.

Rick took the axe in his trembling hands and let out a guttural moan. Negan turned to see Carl’s reaction. He was lying motionless on the ground, watching his father. 

“Just do it, Dad,” he said. “Just do it.”

Rick raised the axe above his head, sobbing, and felt Negan’s hand on his wrist. “Rick, you’re mine. Do you understand that? You provide for me. You belong to me.”

Rick stared up at him, lip trembling and tears running down his face. “Right?”

The other man seemed frozen and Negan, fed up, grabbed Rick’s face. “Speak when you’re fucking spoken to,” he snapped, before his jaw went slack. “Hih’RRISSH!” 

He just narrowly missed sneezing on Rick.

“Yes, yes,” Rick choked out, gasping for breath.

“You answer for me! You provide for me!”

“I provide for you,” Rick said hoarsely.

“You belong to me, right?”

“Right,” he nodded, breathing heavily. Another tear slipped down his cheek.

Negan clapped. “Yes! See, that is the look I wanted to see. Right there.” He took off his red bandana and dabbed at his nose. “Everyone, we did it! We all did it, together. Even those dead guys. Shit, they did as much as any of us, right? Today was a fucking productive day.”

Negan’s voice was hoarse and he strained it, trying to yell. “I hope for all your sake that you get it now. I hope you understand how things work here. Whatever you had going for you, that was a pipe dream. It’s over now.”

He pointed to Daryl. “Hey, Simon? Load him up. He’s got guts. I like him.”

As they forced Daryl into a truck, Negan bent close to Rick. “You know why I like him? Because he’s not a fucking pussy like someone else I know.”

“And you know what? You still want to kill me?” Negan asked, shoving Rick until he lost his balance. “I’ll cut pieces off of whatever his name is — Daryl, or whatever — I’ll cut pieces off him and make you eat them. Or better yet, I’ll make you do the messy work.”

“We’ll leave you a truck and be back in one week to collect our offerings,” Negan said. “And by then you b-behhh… you better — HRRISCH! H-hih! Hh’SHUHHH! — you better have lots of goodies for me.”

***

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[yourescapetofiction]

The Tides Have Turned-Part 2

A/N:  This is my old work, The Tides Have Turned. It is a complete story that I am reposting on this blog so the work isn’t lost and can be found for those interested :)

Two

Nate’s POV

I couldn’t help but grab her hand, she looked so beautiful drifting off to sleep next to me. I was secretly thrilled when she decided to ride up front with me. It was rare to get any alone time because the entire squad was usually around, which I didn’t really mind we’re all best friends but there is something about her. She had a presence that when she was gone, you missed it.

I continued driving down the highway periodically stealing glances at the sleeping beauty next to me. We had been on the road for a solid few hours by now. I smiled as I felt her snuggle closer and rest her head on my shoulder to get comfortable. We had just passed the sign signaling our entering of Illinois when the guys started getting antsy in the back. “Hey man when are we gonna pull over, I gotta pee” Swazz asked me. “Yeah and I definitely need some road trip snacks” Johnson added. “Calm down J you’ll get your slim jims” I laugh merging over to the right hand lane to get off the exit ramp. I pull over into the rest area and the guys immediately jumped out and ran for the bathrooms and snack stands. I shook my head, “animals” I mutter. I knew it was time to wake y/n up, but I dreaded the inevitable loss of contact.

Y/n POV

My eyes slowly fluttered open as I felt a large hand soothingly rubbing my side.

“Hey baby, wake up” Nate’s voice rang in my ears. “What year is it?” I say rubbing my eyes and stretching a bit. “2015, same as when we left” he chuckled. “You’ve been asleep for hours, we’re at a rest stop” he answered.

“Omg Nate I’m sorry, did I fall asleep on you? How embarrassing…” I blush deeply pulling open the door. I slid down until my feet touched the pavement and the fresh air filled my nostrils. 

“I didn’t mind..” I heard mumbling. “What did you say?” I turned around. “Huh? Nothing” Nate said giving me a weak smile. “Ok well I’m gonna go find the guys and make em’ pay for my snacks” I wink and laugh.

I walked into the rest stop and freshened up in the bathroom. Nate was acting kind of weird, I wonder what’s bugging him. I brushed the thoughts of Nate away and walked over to the guys who were grabbing bags of chips like they were going out of style.

“Hey baby girl!” I felt strong arms wrap around me. “Hey Sammy” I grin and place a kiss on his cheek. He always made everything irrelevant fade away when I was with him. He looked at me and smiled wide, his beautiful eyelashes fluttering as he spoke.

“What do you want? Pick anything, it’s my treat” he said. “Aww Sam, you don’t have to do that. I can pay for my own shit” I laugh. He intertwined his fingers with mine and walked me over to the candy aisle-my favorite.

“Nonsense. My girl isn’t paying for her candy.” He smiled genuinely at me. I picked out what I wanted and we all proceeded to the register to pay. I glanced at Nate and he looked antsy and uncomfortable at Sam’s close contact. I don’t understand, all of the guys have been like this with me for as long as I can remember and it’s never been a problem before.

“Last one to the bus has to sleep on the floor in the hotel tonight!” Johnson screams as he takes off on a tear towards the bus. “Oh come on you guys, you know I’m not a runner!” I pout behind the pack of running guys. “Don’t worry babe I got you!” Gilinsky stopped in front of me and picked me up into a piggy back ride and took off in a full on sprint. I screamed my head off as we swerved past Kenny and Dillon, Jack tossing elbows as he moved.

“Sorry losers!” I taunt and poke my tongue out at them. We make it to the bus in second place, not too shabby. We collapse to the ground out of breath and laughing till it hurt.

“Wait! Who’s last?!” I ask wide eyed to find the sucker that was sleeping on the floor tonight. We all looked around to a pouty Sammy. “Laugh away, I thought you guys were supposed to be my friends” he says sarcastically. “You know we love you Sam” I counter and he sends me a wink. As the boys pile into the back of the bus, I assume my spot next to Nate.

“You having a good time so far?” He asked. “The best time” I grin so hard it makes him bust out laughing. Nate pulls off and continues driving for another couple of hours.

It is soon dusk as the sky is lit with colors of lavender and indigo. It was beautiful, reminiscent of a Van Gogh painting. I sigh contently as the sounds of The Weeknd float through the bus. Everyone takes turns singing a verse giving credit to those who gave it their all. Of course Gilinsky was able to belt the R&B feel flawlessly. It certainly adds to his appeal, girls love him. We cross the state line for Indiana when Nate decides to pull over to a hotel for the night.

The boys remain outside handling our luggage while I go inside to book our rooms. I book two rooms and wait for the friendly guy behind the counter to enter my information.

“You from out of town?” He asks sending me a smile as he types away. “Uh yeah, my friends and I are actually road tripping to New York for the summer” I answer. “That sounds like the life. If I weren’t stuck at work, I’d probably end up joining you” he laughs. Just then, the guys all file into the lobby and saunter over to me. 

I can see the protective looks in the Jacks, Nate, and Sammy’s eyes. “Tough break bud” Gilinsky says curtly while slinking his arm around me. “Jack…” I whisper hinting that he needs to back off. The guy meant well, I knew he was just trying to make conversation. 

“Uh here’s your room keys, enjoy your stay” he nervously says. “Thank you so much” I say kindly. I walk away, Jack’s arm still around me, and I look up at him. “There was no need for that Jack.” “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just guys suck baby girl, and I didn’t want him to try anything on you” he states matter of factly.

“I’ve never seen you like this G” I giggle. “Yeah well you’re our girl, MY girl, I’d do anything to protect you” he says, shooting me a wink at the end. His words caused flutters in my stomach.

“Alright who’s sleeping where?” Dillon’s question interrupted my moment with G. “Well Nash and Cam, and you and Kenny can go in one room” I suggest. “Jack and Jack obviously together, and Nate and Sammy in the other” I continue.

“What about you?” Kenny asked raising a brow. “Oh I don’t know, I-” I begin “Bullshit, she’s coming with us” Nate states.

“Yeah the squad has to stick together” Johnson jokes pulling me into his side.

We all file into our rooms and I get out my pjs and place them on the bed. I desperately needed a shower after being cooped up in that bus all day. 

“Hey guys I’m gonna shower first is that ok?” I question. “Yeah go ahead babe we’ll go after you” Johnson politely offers. “Or we could save water and shower together” Sam says and smirks. “Cool it Samuel” I joke pushing him back onto the bed. “Feisty, just how I like em” he says causing the room to erupt with laughter.

I make my way into the tiny bathroom and run a hot shower. Man it feels good to get cleaned up. I got changed into my pjs when I was done and emerged from the steamy bathroom. The Jacks were already passed out, poor guys. I made my way over to their bed and covered them up, placing Gilinsky up on the pillow as he was laying half off the bed. He grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze “goodnight, love you” he mutters half asleep. I chuckle to myself.

I turn around to see Nate resting against the headboard of the other bed. He was wearing nothing but his boxers and his eyes were droopy from staring at the road all day. God he looked good. He patted the spot next to him and I smile.

“What about Sammy?” I ask. “He’s fine, he’ll sleep on the floor. A bet is a bet, he has to honor that” Nate laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I get the bed with y/n next time though” he laughed. “Goodnight Sam” I state plainly. 

I crawled onto the bed next to Nate, careful not to encroach on his side too much. I’ve shared a bed with the Jacks before when we were growing up, but this was new territory with Nate. I shiver and climb under the blankets.

“Cold?” He asked. “Mhm” I mutter closing my eyes. “Come here lil mama” he extends his arm opening his side up to me. I snuggle in close and drape my arm over his chest. I aimlessly start tracing his tattoos and I hear his breathing become shallow. Maybe I went too far. I tried to sneak a peek at him through the dim lighting of the room and saw he was fast asleep. I place a kiss to his chest and drift off to sleep myself.

- The next morning

I crack my eyes open and check the time on my phone, it’s 5 am-shit. We needed to get up and get back on the road if we wanted to get to New York at a decent hour. I tried to snake my way out of Nate’s grip, but he absent mindedly pulled me back into him when I tried to get up. 

I giggle “Nate,” I say poking him. “Nate wake up we gotta get going” he groaned next to me reluctant to wake up.

“Wake up guys!” I say loudly to get the others to stir. “Ugh why are you doing this to us?” Johnson groaned covering his face with a pillow. “Do you want to get to the beach at a decent hour? Then get up!” I retort. They all grumble but make their way to get dressed and grab some coffee and breakfast from the complimentary set up downstairs.

We embark on our journey, coffee in tow, and start up a game of would you rather. This time I sit in the back with the boys, and Swazz is riding up front with Nate. 

“Alright Johnson, would you rather have a time machine that only goes back in time, or a time machine that only goes forward in time?” Cam asks. “That is like the hardest question everrrrr” Johnson groans. “Fine, forward in time because the past should remain in the past” he answers. Everybody nods their head. “Alright Sammy, would you rather have your body found in a pile of sex toys or found on a pile of drugs?” Johnson asks. We all bust out laughing. “Hmmm, sex toys.” Sam answers barely giving the question any thought. “Eww what the hell Sam?” Kenny pulls a face. “Dude….” Nash starts in before Sam can explain himself. “What?!” He exclaims. “At least sex toys aren’t illegal.” “Yeah but people would wonder what the hell you did to die there” I giggle. My statement caused everyone to laugh.

“Alright y/n, would you rather give Gilinsky a lap dance or go streaking with Cam?” Sam asks me. My eyes widen. Who would ask a lady that? Sam Wilkinson. 

“Omg Sam how am I supposed to answer that?” “Ugh I guess the lap dance, because there is no way I’m streaking.” Gilinsky wiggles his eyebrows at me and I throw a pillow at him. 

“Alright Nate this one’s for you man!” G calls up to Nate. “Oh god, alright. Hit me” Nate responds. “Would you rather sleep with y/n or sleep with a random hookup?” G asks him. I can see Nate’s grip tighten on the steering wheel. Swazz looked back at me uneasy, like he knew something I didn’t. Nate briefly made eye contact with me in the rearview mirror and I was blushing hardcore. Everyone waited with baited breath for his answer. Way to put him on the spot G…

“Dude definitely the hookup” Nate answers. Some of the guys chuckle and slap hands brushing off his comment, but I fell silent. Nate focused back on the road when I heard my phone song with a text message. It was a private message from Johnson.

J😇: I’m so sorry y/n…. 😥 Me: I’m fine J, thanks though. J😇: Gilinsky shouldn’t have asked that. It was an uncomfortable question. I’m sure Nate didn’t mean anything by it. Me: Don’t worry about it. It was just a throw away comment. I love you J ❤️ J😇: I love you too baby girl

I slid my phone back into my pocket and rested my head against the window. The game died off after that and the guys assumed their own conversations but I wasn’t in the mood anymore. I put in my headphones and drowned out the noise. Why was this bugging me so much? It’s just Nate. He’s one of my best friends, I know it didn’t mean anything. Still, I couldn’t quite forget the cold way he rejected the notion of sleeping with me. I was hurt. And now I had to live with this guy for a month in the Hamptons.

[marvel-mistress-padawan]

Camelot California

Chapter Two

Oh I'm gettin' old and feeble and I cannot work no more

The children no more gather 'round my door

And old masters and old mrs they are sleepin' side by side

Near the little old log cabin in the lane

Oh the chimney's fallen down and the roof's all caved in

Lettin' in the sunshine and the rain

And the only friend I've got now is that good old dog of mine

And the little old log cabin in the lane

Oh the trees have all growed up that lead around the hill

The fences have all gone to decay

And the creeks have all dried up where we used to go to mill

And things have changed of course in another ways

Oh the chimney's fallen down and the roof's all caved in

Lettin' in the sunshine and the rain

And the only friend I've got now is that good old dog of mine

And the little old log cabin in the lane

Oh I ain't got long to stay here what little time I've got

I want to rest content while I remain

'Til death shall call this dog and me to find a better home

And leave th' little old log cabin in the lane

Oh the chimney's fallen down and the roof's all caved in

Lettin' in the sunshine and the rain

And the only friend I've got now is that good old dog of mine

And the little old log cabin in the lane

-Will S. Hays

The song rang out cherily as the stagecoach bumped over the long and winding road. Lucas Walton wasn’t that great of a banjo player. United States Marshals didn’t need to be banjo players after all but Lucas could sing anyhow. The way he saw it, riding on top of the coach while he was transporting a prisoner on a fine day like this one, was as good a time as any to sing. Really, any time at all was a time to sing except that Lucas knew that other folks didn’t see it that way and during those times he could keep quiet for their sake. He finished off his song and heard an applause from within the coach accompanied by the rattling of chains.

“You sure do know how to sing a good tune, Marshall Walton.” Donny called out from inside.

“I do my best,” Lucas said with a smile. “You fellas ought to sing the next one with me.”

“I won’t be doing any singing.” Keith Danvers said sourly. He was the driver and only other companion on this trip. “You two go right on ahead and sing without me. I got better things to do.”

Lucas shook his head at the grisled coach driver. “Alrighty then, you wallow in in your bitterness all you like. Donny and I have some cheer to spread.”

“Cheer to spread? This ain’t Christmas! And what could that boy possibly have to be cheerful about? He’s on his way to prison!” Keith spat his chewing tobacco on the ground.

“Could be he’ll end up in prison. He’s on his way to trial though. The courts will decide what happens to him. That doesn’t mean there isn’t anything to sing about anymore. I know some sad songs too if you think that would be more fitting?”

“I think silence would be more fitting,” Keith said in reply.

“It’s too long a trip to spend it all in silence. I’ll do two more songs though and be quiet for a spell if that suits you,” he said amicably.

Keith gave what sounded like a grunt as a reply while Lucas began another song. At the end of his second song Donny applauded once again.

“How come you know so many songs that I’ve never heard before?” Donny called out.

“Well some of them I learn off of sheet music my sister sends me from back east and most of them are just newly published,” Lucas explained.

“Sheet music?” Donny asked. “You mean those chicken scratch dots that opera singers use? How do you even read that?”

“What the Marshal here is trying to say,” Keith spoke up, “Is that he has more book learning than both of us combined and that’s why his head is full of songs and turds.”

Lucas ignored this attempt at an insult as did Donny. “I only went to school for six years,” Donny said sadly. “I wanted to go longer but Mama needed my help back on the farm.”

“You should have stayed on that farm rather than taking up thieving,” Keith told him.

“I didn’t take the jewels from that lady’s purse. I didn’t!” Donny protested.

Lucas wasn’t sure if that was the truth. The jewelry had been found in Donny’s room after all. The kid’s job at the hotel didn’t pay much and there were a lot of wealthy people that came in and out of that place. Maybe the chance to send some money to his poor family back home had been too much a temptation for Donny. Or maybe one of the other hotel employees pinned the theft on Donny rather than get caught. It seemed unlikely though. Donny probably had stolen the jewels and would probably spend some time in jail for it. Hopefully he’d come out of it having learned to never try something like that again.

“I know a thief when I see one,” Keith was saying. “Good thing judge Harmon hangs thieves like he should. We can be rid of your trouble for good.”

“They’re not gonna hang me are they Marshal?” Donny sounded genuinely worried.

“That would be too harsh. No one needs to die over stealing some necklaces,” Lucas mused aloud.

“Stealing necklaces is where it starts,” Keith argued. “Then it goes on to stealing horses and money. Once they got money they start drinking and once they’re drinking they start killing people. Might as well hang ‘em and be done with it.”

“Are they gonna hang me?” Donny asked again.

“You got it wrong Keith. I don’t disagree that there are times when hanging a man is the right call. Sometimes they’ve done too much violence and are too far gone to be of any use to the world anymore. Those kind of people are few and far between but they do gotta pay for their crimes. The rest of the lawbreakers like Donny here, those ones still have time to change.”

“That’s a load of horsesh-!”

“Are they going to hang me?” Donny interrupted Keith with urgency.

“Judge Harmon is a reasonable man. If I ask him for leniency and for some more time to gather evidence, he’ll listen,” Lucas said.

“You better be right about that,” Donny said, not entirely convinced.

Lucas was about to assure him that it was the truth when a sight ahead in the road got his attention. “Hold up,” he said to Keith.

“Yeah, I see it. Log in the road. You know what that means,” Keith removed his revolver from the holster. Lucas followed suit. “It’s not too big a log. I ain’t gonna get killed by no bandits today.”

“Danvers, don’t do it!” Lucas all but shouted at him. It was too late. Keith Danvers had the horses going full speed ahead. He apparently hoped to get up enough momentum to get the coach wheels over the log.

The horses jumped over the log effortlessly. The front wheels of the coach hit with an impact that broke the wooden wheels on contact. Lucas was thrown from the top of the coach and went tumbling on the ground. He felt something snap in his knee and for a moment everything went dark. When he opened his eyes again, it seemed that only a few seconds had passed. He dragged himself to feet with the help of a nearby tree branch. The coach was on its side and broken. Donny was crawling out the door which now on the top side of the overturned coach. Four gunman came into view. Keith was not in Lucas’ line of sight at all. He seemed to have disappeared, hopefully not pinned underneath the coach. A shot from one of the gunmen hit Donny in the shoulder and the boy fell back down inside the coach.

The second shot did not come from any of the four gunman but from somewhere on the other side of the coach. It had to be Keith doing the shooting. The shot hit one of the bandits in the leg and though the man gave a cry of pain he limped onward looking for cover. Lucas realized that he must have dropped his own gun somewhere during the crash. He had certainly dropped his banjo. It was lying broken not more than ten feet away. He lowered himself to his uninjured knee and ducked down behind a bush. The shrubbery provided very little cover but it did give him a vantage point to watch the situation unfold and try to plan his next move.

Two of the bandits remained on horseback and had begun circling the area around the coach, probably looking for any remaining passengers or the driver. As soon as the shooting began, they dismounted and took cover at the overturned coach along with their injured companion  which happened to be on the same side where Lucas was ducked down hiding. It was only a matter of time before they realized he was there. Lucas took a look around for something that could serve as a weapon, a rock maybe? Then he spotted his revolver on the ground right out in the open between himself and the three gunmen. He looked down at his knee. It was now pretty swollen from being twisted in the fall. Even if he could have been quick enough to retrieve his gun before his knee got all busted up, there was no way he could manage it now.

More gunshots rang out and a shout was heard on the far side of the coach before the air fell silent. If he had to guess, Lucas was pretty sure that Keith had taken down the fourth bandit. The three men began to reach around the edge of the coach and fire shots in Keith’s general direction. Something had to be done about all this. Donny was still inside that coach and was there was no way of knowing how badly he was injured. With all the gunshots headed in the direction of the coach it was only gonna get worse.

“I shoulda just been a fisherman,” Lucas muttered to himself. He had never enjoyed being a Marshal and whenever he found himself in tough spots he found himself regretting not taking a more peaceful type of employment.

Then he remembered something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bundle of fishing line with a hook attached. He liked to carry fishing line in case he got the chance to stop over at Laketown. With all the shooting going on, the bandits took no notice of his eleven attempts to hook his revolver on the ground behind them. On the twelve try he managed to hook the weapon and pulled it quickly to himself. He shot two of them in the leg before the third one realized that the shots were coming from behind. That one turned and fired straight at Lucas. The shot missed. The other two men had apparently never been shot before and had dropped their guns and were writhing in agony. The uninjured man was taking aim a second time. Lucas shot first and he didn’t miss.

Two of the bandits were dead and the other two were currently unarmed but their guns lay within reach right next to them. Lucas grabbed the tree branch and pulled himself to stand, keeping his aim towards the injured men. They didn’t fight being arrested and gave up their guns as asked.

“Donny?” Lucas called out while he tied up his prisoners. “You alive in there boy?”

Keith came out of hiding and climbed on top of the overturned coach. He threw open the door and peered down inside. “Give me that there box,” he reached two hands inside and hauled the chest out and placed it next to him on the coach. After that he pulled the kid out and lowered him to the ground.

Donny was bleeding and looked rather shaken up. Keith jumped down from the coach and set to work unhitching the horses. They would have to ride for the remainder of their journey. “That there box is the property of Wells Fargo. It comes with us. Bring it here Donny.”

Donny was shot in the shoulder and though he made a good effort, he could not lift his arms above his head. Keith watched with disgust but made no move to help so Lucas limped over and reached up to pull down the chest. It was far heavier than he expected and between the weight of the chest and the injury to his knee, the Marshal soon found himself flat on the ground pinned beneath the heavy chest. It was in that moment that Donny decided to make a run for it. He supposed he couldn’t blame the kid. Keith had told him he might be hanged and after just barely escaping the bandits with his life, Donny was panicked.

“You yellow bellied little…” Keith muttered and then worked quickly to finish unhitching one of the horses. He mounted and took off after Donny.

Lucas pushed the chest off of himself and followed after them. It took him a while to catch up due to the pain in his knee. He eventually found them, Donny looked like his nose was broken, his left eye was blacked, and he had fresh roped tied around his wrists. Keith was still on horseback and held the end of the rope while Donny walked.

The rest of the journey to the city was sullen. Lucas had done what he could for Donny’s wounds, and had made sure his other two prisoners were tied securely. There were no more songs. His broken banjo was in a bag and Lucas was in one of his rare moods where he actually didn’t want to sing. He dropped off his prisoners at the jail near the courthouse, left Keith Danvers at the Wells Fargo office, and went to see a doctor for his knee.

It was dusk when Lucas finally returned to his little townhouse on the edge of the city. There was mail in the basket on his front steps. Usually his neighbor old Mrs Fisk picked up his mail for him when he was away. And on top of the mail was a telegram message dated for the previous day.

The Bartlett Gang all killed in Davenport shootout with only Ned Bartlett taken alive STOP Sheriff Brett Williams killed in the conflict STOP Davenport renamed Camelot STOP

Lucas didn’t bother to read the rest of the mail. He went inside, took a bottle of whiskey from the pantry, and went straight out the back door into the garden. There weren’t many flowers blooming this time of year. Or maybe they just didn’t grow as well without Emilia to tend them anymore. Lucas went past the dying flowers and shrubbery. He stopped in front of a single gravestone.

Emilia Williams Walton 1841-1870, Beloved wife and mother, Edith Walton 1865-1870, Beloved daughter.

With great effort, Lucas lowered himself down to sit on the ground. The grass was well worn as he had sat in this spot many times before. “Well Emilia, at least you won’t be alone anymore. Your brother will take good care of you. He always did. Better than I could...better than I ever could...”

And Lucas opened the bottle of whiskey with no plans to go back in the house anytime soon.

[kreetthekobold]

45 - Sunrise

The path joined with another, larger and more worn that could truly be called a road, though by the time they reached it, it was deserted. They passed their first remote farmstead, the house far from the road and invisible behind the woods, but they could hear the occasional bark of a large dog.

“I grew up on a farmstead like that,” Sigmundurr said, breaking the silence that had come over them. “Rough life. You’ve gotta be tough way out here. Need a real pioneer spirit to live at the end of the line.”

Kreet smiled at that. “Or you really don’t like other people a lot!”

“That too,” Sigmundurr agreed, not realizing it was intended as a joke.

“You were a farmer? I don’t picture that,” Eilistrae picked up the conversation.

“Not really. Dad was. He kicked me out. Deserved it though. I sucked as a farmer. My brothers were a lot better than me. Hell, my sister was better than me. Plus I kept running off to the tavern and coming back drunk. And… not alone.”

“Oh! Were you popular with women when you were young?” Kallid asked.

“Whaddaya mean when I was young?! I’m still young!”

“I… mean, when you were living with your dad.” Kallid countered quickly.

“Oh. Well, no. Not really. I had to pay em.”

“Whores? Your mom and dad didn’t mind?”

“Mom ran off after I was born. Never knew her. Just Dad. I don’t think he minded that so much. Heck, he brought some home sometimes himself. But he didn’t care for me straying out of my race. I liked the exotics. One morning he caught me with a cat girl and booted me out.”

“What, is he racist or something?” asked Kreet.

“Oh, probably. But it was the best thing for me. I hooked up with some adventuring fellas and never looked back. Turns out I made a pretty good figher.”

The trees became sparser as the road continued, and farmsteads became more numerous. They met their first fellow traveler, though he was drunk and sleeping it off by the side of the road. He woke at the sound of their approach, but just gaped at them the four walked by.

“Good evening,” Kreet said, bowing to him as they passed.

“E...evening,” he managed.

Otherwise the evening was theirs to traverse in peace. They had covered many miles, with not too many stops, when Kreet asked the question Kallid had whispered to her a short time before.

“Hey, Eilistrae. Do you have any ideas on where we should stop before morning yet? Kallid’s not really ready for full daylight yet.”

She looked at the kobold, valiantly managing to stay up with the others, though the stress was beginning to show. Kreet had been travelling with ‘big folk’ for most of her life and her legs had become accustomed to a quicker gait, plus she was at least somewhat larger than Kallid which also helped in that regard.

“I do, in fact,” Eilistrae assured them. “There’s an old widower, lives not far from the road just a bit farther ahead. I think he would be happy for the company. His caretaker has left him for a day so he’s all alone. In fact, I think I’ll join you this time.”

“Oh! Even in the day?”

“I’ll help keep the house dark. Kallid won’t have any problem. Sound good?”

Sigmundurr laughed, “Sounds good Eilistrae. Do we have a choice?”

True to her word, they turned off the road and down a winding cart-path until they came to a small, poor but well-kept house. A light was on inside. A single candle could be seen moving around inside. As the approached, they could hear humming.

Sigmundurr knocked at the door. The man within was wearing an old frayed robe and was apparently going about his morning breakfast ritual.

Eilistrae whispered, “He’s a little hard-of-hearing Sig. Bang harder.”

He did so, and the old man finally took notice.

“Who’s here at this hour?” he asked, approaching with his candle held high.

“Just some travelers, seeking some shelter for the day.”

“Travelers eh? I’m just an old man. I’ve got nothing worth stealing.”

“Hey,” Sigmundurr pointed out, “We did knock! Thieves wouldn’t do that.”

“No… no they wouldn’t.  Well come on in. Let’s see what we’ve got here…”

“Oh my!!!” he cried when Eilistraee made her entrance behind Sigmundurr, “Well aren’t you a Beauty!”

“Thank you, Sir Bart.”

“Well sit your pretty self down over there on the couch. My, this is turning into quite a morning! And a couple of little kobolds too? What are you two doing out of your caves?”

“Thank you for your hospitality,” Kreet said, and he nodded back to her, then poked his head looking around outside for more.

“And polite ones at that! That all of you?”

“That’s all,” Sigmundurr said. “Sorry for the imposition, but the kobolds like to travel at night and there’s really no where else to stay before morning.”

“Oh, hell. No problem. But lady, how do you know my name? I don’t even go by that anymore. You one of those mages? Never liked em.”

“Something like that, Sir Bart.”

“You want some clothes or something? I’m making some tea. I can add more.”

“Thanks,” Eilistraee replied sweetly. “But I’m more comfortable like this.”

“What’s ‘tea’?” Kallid asked, brightening up now that he could rest a little.

“‘What’s tea?’ Why, young feller, it’s only the best drink in the world. Well, without alcohol in it. Can’t drink the good stuff anymore. Wynda - she’s my boy’s wife. Comes by to take care of me. Anyway, she says I’ll die if I drink the good stuff again.  Probably right.”

The old man left the room into another, presumably a kitchen, but the open space between the rooms in the little house allowed for the conversation to continue.

“So you live here alone?” Kreet asked.

“My, but you talk well for a kobold! Oh no. Got my cats. Not much for conversation, but I like ‘em. Don’t worry, I don’t let em in. Knew a girl once. Real cat lover. Lived for em. House smelled like cat piss. Oh it was awful.”

“I hope we’re not too much of an imposition anyway,” Kreet continued.

The old man, Sir Bart, returned and sat in an old overstuffed and worn chair slowly. “Got more water on the boil. Oh, you’re no imposition at all. Not much happens in my life anymore, you know. Basically just sit around and wait for Old Bones to arrive. Glad to have the company. So what brings you here? I assume by the kobolds you’re coming up from the Drow caves?”

Sigmundurr nodded. “Yup. This is Kreet. She was raised by humans up top. We’re looking for her home. She sorta got lost. That other kobold she’s all touchy-feely with is her husband, Kallid. And he is just out of the caves but wanted to come along. I’m Sigmundurr. Just kinda along for the ride. And this here…”

As he turned to the goddess, she rose and crossed over to the old man.

“This is the goddess Eilistraee.”

“A goddess? In my house?”

“Pleased to meet you, Sir Bart. We met once before. Long ago. You killed quite a few of my drow as I recall. Well, perhaps ‘met’ is too strong. I became aware of you.”

The old man’s eyes grew wide.

“Relax, Sir Bart. You were justified. I’m not here to take your soul.”

“Eilistraee. Can’t say I remember the name, honestly. But I’m honored you would come to my door! A goddess. Wynda will never believe this!”

Eilistraee took his hand. “No, she won’t. Maybe we could just keep it a secret? She’ll think you’re going senile.”

“I am you know.” he said, looking forlorn into the goddess’ eyes.

“You are what?” Kallid asked, interested.

“Senile. I can’t remember things. Little things now, but it’s getting worse. And I forget where I am. Sometimes I think I’m back... I’m going senile.”

“You are,” Eilistraee said, sitting beside him and stroking his head. “It is a sad thing, but it is the way of life, you know. You must make room for the new ones coming up. But you’ll not be senile while I am in your house, Sir Bart.”

“No. I’m not right now, am I? I can tell.”

“If you’d like, Sir Bart… I can call him. I can call Old Bones to come and fetch you after we leave. Would you prefer that?”

The old man’s eyes began to tear up. “It’s a temptation, to be sure.” he said, and he ran his own hand down the goddess’ flank as if oblivious to just who it was he was groping. “But even when senile, I can still appreciate beauty. I don’t want to leave yet. Not quite yet. I might just have a use still in this world.”

Kreet was a little surprised the goddess allowed such familiarity, but she hugged him to her instead and kissed his forehead before rising. He ran his fingers across her back and bottom as she walked back to sit beside Sigmundurr.

“Yes, you might at that, Sir Bart. I am sorry for your affliction”

“Could you cure it?” Kreet asked.

A scream came then from the other room causing Kallid to jump up, alarmed.

“What's that?!” he shouted, worried.

“Oh, relax little kobold. It’s just the water for the tea. I’ll be right back.”

“I could, Kreet.” Eilistraee admitted to Kreet. “But then a worse affliction would follow. Senility is a terrible disease, it’s true. His daughter-in-law sees it and it breaks her heart as he is slowly lost. But the alternatives are worse. You all must die, Kreet. There is no good death, despite what the novelists would have you believe. No one dies peacefully in their sleep. They die choking or gasping for breath or worse. Life doesn’t like giving up. Nature and Fate have decreed this is to be his end. It’s not such a bad end, as such things go.”

Sir Bart returned with two cups of tea, and Eilistraee rose to help him, taking them and distributing them to the kobolds.

“No, it’s not so bad,” he said, returning to the kitchen where Eilistraee followed to help. They returned with three more cups, Eilistraee handing one to Sigmundurr and taking the other for herself as she sat back down while the old man eased himself back into his old chair.

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it,” he said, then a thought came to him. “Oh! I’m sorry, Eilistraee. I guess you don’t really drink!”

“I can. Or not. But as long as I’m here among you mortals, I’m happy to.”

“Well, then I hope you like it! My own special blend.”

They stopped talking for a moment while they sipped at their tea.

“Very hot,” Kreet whispered to Kallid. “Let it cool down first. Will burn your mouth.” So the two kobolds just blew on the top of their cups to cool it.

“Wow!” Sigmundurr said, after having taken a sip. “That’s actually pretty good. And I don’t like tea!”

“Why thank you. Since I retired here, I’ve been growing and refining tea in a little garden out back. You’re drinking years of refining and blending of different varieties.”

“Sir Bart’s Best!” Sigmundurr named it.

“Indeed, it is. I’m glad you like it. But, hey, I’m keeping you. The sun should be coming up soon. Wait… it should already be up! Strange.”

“Oh, sorry. I should have warned you. I’m doing that, Sir Bart,” Eilistraee confessed. “If you step outside it will be morning as you know it. But the light is still tough on little Kallid here.”

“A goddess. Strange. Should I be, I don’t know, kneeling or something?”

“Probably. But don’t. I’m suppressing that anyway. No, just treat me like a mortal.”

“If I were to treat you like a mortal, you might not like it!” the old man leered.

“You get used to it… somewhat,” Sigmunder laughed, understanding completely.

After their tea, the old man suggested they go out and sit on the porch. Kallid admitted to being tired anyway, so he went back to the bedroom. It was a small room with only the one bed. After some quiet discussion, the kobolds decided to make a bed on the floor at the foot of the bed instead, leaving the bed to Sigmundurr.

“Or Eilistraee. If she’s really going to stay with us all day.”

“Let’s let them figure that out,” Kreet replied. “Are you sure Kallid? I can just sleep here beside you. I’m tired too.”

“No, you go on with them. I’ll be fine. Just wake me when you get back.”

“I will,” Kreet said and nuzzled her mate before stepping back to the common room, donning her ‘sunglasses’, and opening the door to the porch.

She shielded her eyes reflexively as the light from the sun could be seen peeking through the trees to the east. But she recovered quickly. The old man was rocking slowly on a chair with a curved bottom, while Sigmundurr and Eilistraee sat on a bench tied to the roof with rope, slowly swaying back and forth while watching a cat fumble with a moth some ways off.

Eilistraee patted the bench on the other side of her, inviting Kreet to sit there, so she did so. Her legs couldn’t reach the porch, but Sigmundurr started the bench to swinging again.

“Pity,” the old man was saying. “Sunrise is the most beautiful time of day.”

“You okay with being out in the daylight, Eilistraee?” Sigmundurr asked the goddess.

“Fine. It’s not my domain, and we gods try to keep out of each other’s way. But Pelor is happy with me for helping Kreet out, so I’m good. Sorry, Kreet, I was just telling Sir Bart that I don’t get to see the sun rise very much. It really is gorgeous.”

The old man was smoking a long pipe he had presumably lit from the kitchen stove. Kreet watched in fascination as he blew smoke rings while they watched.

“This reminds me of a my adopted father, long ago,” she said after a time of silence. “My first human. We used to sit on his porch too. Watching his cat. Evenings though. We slept in the mornings.”

“Sunset’s are fine too,” Sir Bart said between puffs. “But they always reminded me of the end of things. Sunrise is the beginning. Beginnings are nicer.”

“Speaking of which,” Eilistraee said, and Kreet felt the godess’ cool hand on her shoulder. It felt very nice. It’s good to have a friend who’s a goddess, she thought.

Then suddenly she connected what Eilistraee was implying. She looked up at the dark face in alarm.

“I’m....?”

“Two in fact. Yes, Kreet.”

“Two! Are they…”

“Tsk tsk tsk, impatient kobold. You’ll have to wait and see.”

The old man looked at them, confused.

“She’s pregnant,” Eilistraee explained. “Got two little buns in her oven.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful! Congratulations Kreet!”

“Thank you! I guess! But that means… Oh my god. The sand begins to run through the hourglass!”

Eilistraee’s face turned a bit more serious, but the smile was still there. “Yes Kreet. You have about 6 months to find your home - or make a new one for yourself.”

“Eilistraee! I have no idea how to… do this! I read some books, but they were by humans. They didn’t talk about birth! Or how to raise babies!”

She felt the cool hand stroke her and her initial panic passed as the goddess’s words of comfort calmed her. “Relax, Kreet. Your body knows how to do what it needs to do. I’m afraid as a goddess, I can’t provide much advice. And these men are even worse, so don’t look to them. Kallid will help for support, but he won’t know anything either. You’re best off to find another female friend. A mother. These men only know how to plant it. Nurturing and harvesting isn’t their forte. Just do your best. You will do fine.”

Kreet looked into the eyes of the goddess, fear apparent. Deep down, she knew she wanted this, but now that it was confirmed, she was right back with the fear she’d had at first.

“Kreet, Take comfort in that. This is coming from a goddess who knows. You WILL do fine.”

[wildirishrosie38]

Birthday Boy

Dean woke up to the sound of singing coming from the kitchen. He pulled on a t shirt from his clean stack of clothes and grabbed his robe. He followed the sound to find his girlfriend standing at the stove. "Hey. What's got you in a good mood?" He smiled as he hugged her from behind. She turned around to wrap her arms around his neck and returned the favor. "You, of course." Emma said then kissed him. "Go grab some coffee. Breakfast is almost done." "Smells good!" Dean exclaimed and walked to the coffee pot. He grabbed a couple cups and filled them up. As Emma made up a couple plates for them, Sam joined them. "Hey guys. Emma, I took care of that phone call." Sam spoke as he went to the frig and grabbed a bottle of water. "Thanks, Sam." Emma replied as she carries the plates to the table. "There's more on the stove if ya want it." "What call?" Dean asked as he sat down to a hot breakfast of fried eggs, hash browns, and all the bacon he could eat. "Huh?" Sam asked as he leaned against the counter. He twisted off the cap of his water and took a drink. "You said you took care of a phone call for Em. What was it?" Dean asked as he dug into his eggs. "Oh. Uh yeah. Nothing. Just another hunter wanting some advice. Emma was in the middle of cooking so I took it for her." Sam answered which was a lie. But he didn't want to let on to what Emma had planned. Dean looked from his brother to his girlfriend and thought something was up. But kept it to himself. He turned his attention back to his breakfast, enjoying every bite of it. Emma sat across from him watching as he ate. She couldn't help but laugh at how much he could eat, especially bacon. She smiled as she ate her own breakfast. Sam grabbed some toast, an egg and made an egg sandwich with a few added veggies. He sat down beside his brother and ate happily. "So what are the plans for the day?" Dean asked as he finished up. "I was thinking of just hanging out, maybe grab a good book from my shelf." Sam answered. "Yuck." Dean stuck out his tongue. "Hey, you do what you want to relax and I'll do what I want to relax." Sam defended his decision. "I have to pick up those parts for my truck. Care to drive me into town?" Emma asked with a smile. "Yeah. Let me go get dressed." Dean returned the smile. "Do I get my usual payment for fixing your truck?" "What do you think?!" Emma winked at him. "Yes!" Dean pumped his fist in the air in triumph. He jumped up from the table and disappeared to his room to change. "I'll keep him distracted while you get everything set up." Emma looked at Sam. "Yes. Balloons and stuff are in the room beside mine as we speak. Cake and pie both will be ready at 3. I can sneak out to get them." Sam reassured her with a smile. "Sounds good. I can probably keep him out of the bunker til after that." Emma looked at her watch and made a mental note in her mind. "It's a plan. Get him out of here. And I'll take care of the rest." Sam added as he picked up the empty dishes from the table. "I'll take care of these as well." "Thank you, Sam." Emma was grateful for his help. "I mean it." She had to stand on her tip toes to hug him. She helped him clear the dishes to the sink before she left him. Dean put the couple boxes of truck parts in Baby's trunk as Emma slipped out of her jacket. She tossed it in the backseat then climbed in the front passenger seat. Dean slipped into the driver seat, started Baby up then turned to Emma. "So you want to head back so I can fix your truck?" Dean winked at his girlfriend. Emma slid across the seat to sit right beside him. "Let's take advantage of the sunshine and go for a drive first." Emma gave him a wicked smile. "Maybe I can pay you in advance." "Happy birthday to me!" Dean smiled as he shifted Baby into drive. Emma twisted the knob on the radio to pull in the local classic rock station. "You read my mind, Sweetheart." Dean pulled Baby off the two lane black top onto a dirt road leading to a secluded spot in the middle of the woods. He parked and wrapped his arms around Emma. He pulled her close and kissed the side of her head. They settled back in to the leather of Baby's front seat and watched as the world passed by. Sam had balloons stuck all around the map room and the staircase. Emma had a banner made up that he hung up as well. He stood on the steps to the library to check his work when the door creaked opened. He looked up to see Cas. "Sam, what is all of this?" Cas asked as he looked around in wonderment. "Hey Cas." Sam greeted the angel. "Yeah.. um.. Emma wanted to throw Dean a birthday party. She out with him so I can get everything up and ready." "Today is Dean's birthday." Cas said as he came down the stairs to join Sam on the steps. "Yep." Sam smiled and glanced at his watch. "I actually have to go into town to grab some stuff." "Need me to come along?" Cas asked. "Sure. Come on." Sam replied and led the angel back up the stairs to the front door. Time seemed to pass by slowly as Dean and Emma slipped into the back seat of Baby. Radio cranked up and playing a mixed tape of loving making songs. Emma held on tight to Dean's arms as he slipped their jeans off. Dean looked into those baby blues for permission to go further. Emma smiled and gave him the go ahead. Their rocking matched up with the beat of the music. Soon they were in the throws of love making. Dean kissed every inch of exposed skin on Emma's body which caused her to shiver and have goosebumps. Before they knew it, they had exploded together and laying side by side facing each other. Dean softly brushed Emma's hair out of her eyes. "I still wonder what it is I did to deserve you." Dean smiled at her. "I lowered my standards." Emma joked. "Funny." Dean shot back. "I mean it, Emma." "You want an honest answer?" Emma asked as she gently traced the lines of his abs. "Yes. What did you see in me that made you fall in love with a man like me?" Dean asked. "First off, I didn't fall in love with a man like you. I fell in love with you, Winchester." Emma stated as she poked him in the chest. "That smart ass smirk of yours is what caught me. You were just so damn adorable with it." "Were?" Dean acted offended. "Yes. Now you are the most handsome man I have ever known. Inside and out, Dean." Emma smiled and looked into those green eyes. She had seen those eyes hide so much pain then turn around and show so much love in the blink of a eye. "You have the biggest heart. Your care and love of others is admirable." Emma continued. Dean grinned to hear her talk about how much she loved him. He just wished he could return the favor but every time he tried, he got tongue tied and the words come out all wrong. "Your toughness, your ability to never give up even when there is nothing left. Your ability to make me feel safe no matter where we are. I know as long as you are alive, I will always have the feeling of home." Emma spoke from the heart. She wanted him to know just how much she appreciated him. She glanced at her watch a moment. "I could go on and on, but we should get back so you can get to working on my truck." "Yeah." Dean agreed as he ran his fingers through his hair. Sam and Cas picked up the cake, pie, and other food they needed. They returned to the bunker to find that Emma and Dean weren't back yet. Sam directed Cas to take stuff to the kitchen while he pulled out his phone. He quickly sent a text message to Emma. "Everything's set up. Cas is here. Ready when you are." Emma read the text as Dean turned Baby around and headed her towards home. "Heading back now. Be there in about ten minutes." She texted back to Sam. Dean noticed her out of the corner of his eye. "Anything important?" He asked. "No just a text from that hunter that called this morning." Emma lied. She didn't like to lie to him but she also knew that what she and Sam had waiting for him back in the bunker was gonna to blow him away. "Uh huh." Dean was suspicious of her. "Do I know this hunter?" "I don't think so. He from up in New England. He's the son of an old friend not my dad's." Emma lied and without realizing it looked down at her feet. She slipped her phone into her jeans and looked back at Dean. "You keep your secrets, woman. I'll get them out of you later." Dean gave her that smart ass grin. "Oh I bet you will." Emma gave him her own smart ass grin. Sam and Cas stood beside the map table to wait on Emma and Dean. A birthday cake and an apple pie sat on the table with plates, forks, and a knife. Sam had stuck a few birthday candles in both the cake and pie. "Is all of this necessary to celebrate the day that Dean was being?" Cas asked as he held the cardboard cone hat in his hands. Sam picked one up from the table and put it on. "Yes." Sam answered. "Cas, growing up the way Dean and I did, we never celebrated birthdays. So we missed out on this." Sam pointed around the room at the balloons and other decorations. He had a moment of heartache but pushed it aside. This was Dean's day. "Since Emma's come to be a great part of our lives, she has been bringing the joy of days like this to Dean and me." Sam continued with a sincere tone. "I feel ridiculous." Cas spoke as he put the hat on his head. "But it's for Dean, I'll wear it." "Haha. Yeah I do, too." Sam laughed. Just then the door creaked open and the two men looked up to see who was there. "SURPRISE!" Sam yelled as he saw his brother come to the railing on the landing. Dean was super surprised as Emma stood beside him with a wide grin on her face. "What is all this?" Dean asked as he took it all in. Emma stood on tiptoes, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and a hug. "Happy birthday, babe!" Emma exclaimed. "Happy birthday, Dude!" Sam called out as Dean and Emma came down the stairs. Dean walked around in a circle to take it all in. "Yes. Happy birthday, Dean." Cas followed suit. His voice the usual monotone when he didn't understand something that his friends were doing. "Make a wish." Sam grabbed a lighter and lit the candles. Dean laughed as Emma placed a birthday boy hat on his head. "What could I wish for that I don't have right here right now?" Dean asked then bent down to blow out the candles. He grabbed Emma by the waist and pulled her into his arms. He kissed her softly on those blush colored lips of hers. "I have everything I ever wanted already. A family."

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Ben Barnes x Female Reader: Good Night, Barnes

A/N: This is the first time ever that I write a Ben Barnes anything. I kind of struggled with it, trying to make it perfect for the birthday girl. 

Happy Brittday my sweet, lovely @benbarnesescape! I am so glad to have such a beautiful, exceptionally caring, sassy and determined friend! I hope you are having the time of your life right now! You definitely deserved it!  When you come back from your camping trip, smelling like fire and burned marshmallows, this will be waiting here for you!  I hope you will enjoy it, Britt. As do all of you, beautiful human beings. Lots of love, M. Warnings: This is my first oneshot ever, so it turned out pretty long. It’s angsty and fluffy and completely out of control - just what birthdays normally should be like :) There is also a couple of swear words... Just thought I’d let you know. And my English, which is really not that great... Let’s get this show on the road!

I told you so.

These four words are probably worse than cancer. The way their tiny little letters choke you, wrapping their curves around your neck the moment they finally get out in the open.  The way they make your eyes water, the truth in them blinding you with neon-bright accusations. I told you so is what is said, you didn’t’ listen is what is meant. As you step into the cold night ‘s air, leaving the expensive champagne, the fake laughter, and your best friend behind, you are spending your last effort on biting back tears.

Em, your wifey, had told you so. It was a fucked up idea, had been from the very start. You should not have let him get you into this. Especially not on the night of your fucking birthday.

But boy, did Barnes look good in that Tom Ford suit.

Could you really blame that Kourtney-bitch for getting a little too much to drink and throwing herself at him when he was wearing that suit?

She’s just a friend, my ass, you clutched your fists at the thought.

With a hurricane of sensations, cursing through your body, you approached the busy road in several steps, throwing one of your hands into the air.

“Taxi!” you shouted louder than you intended, relief flowing through your veins when you saw a black cab stop right in front of you.

You didn’t remember how you got into the car, neither could you recall what that cab driver Yousouf had told you about his wife and five kids. You probably wouldn’t remember even if police threatened to send you to prison, should you not give them the information. You needed to get away. From this place, from this party, from these people... From Kourtney flirting with Ben right before your eyes, and him smiling at her, feeling her hand touch his... Her mouth slamming against his own.

All the consumed alcohol making you feel dizzy, you stretched your legs in the back seat of the taxi, trying so hard not to choke on your tears.

Ben Barnes, a fantastic actor, your best friend, the only man you have ever loved... Had shown you he did not give a flying fuck about you. On the night of your birthday.

Whatever, you thought, wiping tears off your cheeks discreetly. She can have him. I didn’t see much future for us anyway.

Neither did he, apparently.

When you arrived to your loft, your house phone squeaked miserably, trying to get your attention. The light on the device shone bright red, which meant it was saturated with messages. You didn’t have to be a bloody genius to know that Ben had probably tried to reach you here, after you refused every single one of his calls on your cell.

Slamming the door shut, you turned around and leaned against it, feeling the coolness of the wood with your exposed back. You closed your eyes, trying to focus – you were tipsy. The sane, calm and cool you would never leave Ben during that fancy-ass Hollywood party. Even after what you saw. The sane, calm and cool you would ignore the sharp pang of pain in your chest, down your last shot of tequila and go home with that hot-looking Winter Soldier guy. Sebastian Stan, was it?

But you weren’t your usual sane, calm and cool self tonight. You were a selfish, possessive, put-it-where-your-mouth-is, tough and bitchy woman – and it felt good. Actually, it felt great. You had the right to be a temperamental pain in his ass for once, not the other way around.

The minimalist clock on the opposite wall was showing three am. Whatever storm of messages and rounds of explanations were hanging over your head, they all could wait until tomorrow. What you wanted now was to sleep your catastrophic birthday off and learn your lesson. You were going to be so much smarter next year. You had it all under control now.

Yet images flashing before your eyes just wouldn’t leave you alone. His lips, parted in a soft smile, as Kourney covers his hand with hers. The way he throws his head back, laughing, as she says something stupid. The memories from hours ago pierced your body like electricity, striking deep, down to the bones.

When someone knocked on the door, you first thought it was blood pumping in your temples. When you felt the wood vibrate against your naked back, you turned around and threw the door open, too tired to think.

The moment your eyes met, you felt your legs failing you, your head spinning and your heart, your disappointed, torn heart shrinking into a tiniest nubbin, causing you to endure unbearable pain.

So much for having it all under control.

You felt your thighs stiffen, as your lower belly muscles twitched. You had never noticed before how tall he actually was – Ben stood in front of you, in flesh, his toned chest before your eyes, hidden by the soft cotton of his neatly pressed shirt, his tie hanging around his bare neck with a throbbing vein, urging for your touch, the forbidden spot of this perfect, beautiful body of a destroyer, a traitor you knew you could never forgive.

He just stood there, your sweet killer, and it was excruciating to watch him bite his lower lip nervously, probably subconsciously… You didn’t want him here. He made his choice. He may have fucked Kourtney, for all you knew. And frankly speaking, you didn’t know how to deal with this mind-numbing thought, your heart shrinking into a thumbnail, your body nearly convulsing under the guilty stare of his bottomless, pitch black eyes…

You stared at him, your heart wildly pounding in agony, exploding. Biting your lip, with tears flooding your eyes, you raised your trembling hand so sharply, he could not have blocked it even if he wanted. With a loud slap, your palm landed on his face.

He looked lost and hurt, as he gasped, his head cocked to a side, his cheek burning red. He slowly brought one of his long-fingered hands to his jaw and rubbed it, facing you again.

“What was that for?...” he whispered, aghast, probably realizing how much rage you invested in that blow. “Y/N, talk to me. Please,” he nearly pleaded, watching you lower your gaze, your put-it-where-your-mouth-is attitude suddenly gone.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you murmured, still avoiding his eyes, you voice lifeless. “I’m done here. Good night, Barnes”.

His black eyes sparkling, he watched you as you tried to close the door right in front of him. He hadn’t yet realized, that was it, you meant what you said – all he knew you weren’t being fair. His head was splitting in two from the chaotic thoughts his brain was still trying to process – you didn’t even give him a chance to learn what happened and to explain himself!... He came all the way here to apologize for something he wasn’t sure he did, to tell you how he feels about you, and here you were, slapping him across his face, done and wishing him good night!

He wasn’t having it. He did not wait all these years for you to show him you cared, so you could just kick him out in the middle of the night. 

Suddenly, Ben’s judgment became clouded. From that very moment he lost control of what happens next. He wasn’t a responsible sweet best friend anymore. His cheek burned in pain, pushing him to the limit. He wasn’t going to let you get away with this.  

As you pushed the door to slam it in his face, he sharply hit it with his hand, blocking it, his rib cage crunching at the blows of his rapid heartbeats. You swore under your breath, stepping back, as the door bounced back in your direction and smashed against the wall. Before the loud bang broke the silence, reigning in the house, you heard Ben swear in pain. With your eyes widening, you saw him step inside as he closed the door behind him with his uninjured hand.

All you could do was gape at him, surprised by the mask of badly controlled temper, plastered on his face. You took a couple of steps back, just to be sure. You knew that look. That look was not that of your friend. The last time you saw this raging fire, burning in his eyes, he beat the crap out of the guy who referred to you as ‘bitch’ in a bar.

Clenching your sweaty hands together, you kept on stepping back, wondering what was going to happen next. Te thought of getting punched frightened you nearly to death, when the idea of his lips on yours seemed so outrageous. 

He was approaching you silently, his breath even, like a wildcat, ready to attack.

You felt your insides twist clockwise. 

How dared Ben-fucking-Barnes step into your apartment, when you made it clear he wasn’t welcome? He really did have some nerve, entering your haven, your world, after doing what he did – and on your birthday!...

You stopped, rooting into the floor, your eyes blazing. He halted too, keeping a relatively narrow distance between the two of you.

“You better leave now, Ben, because if you won’t, I’ll…” you warned, your cheeks painted rage-red. 

“You’ll slap me again?” he offered, his tone rigid and nothing like it used to be when you two were friends. “Go ahead, Y/N,” he was now provoking you, his eyebrows furrowed. “At least this time I’ll deserve it.”

You stared at him in disbelief, nearly choking on a wave of anger, rising in your chest. This was just about as much as you could take. You did feel guilty for slapping him, especially now, watching his cheek still burn, your handprint visible on the irritated skin. But you knew better than anyone he deserved it. You two have stopped being friends a long time ago: you weren’t the only one who noticed his lingering stares, the way he touched your body, brushing his hands accidentally against yours, giving you temple kisses... You weren’t going to play his fucking game, and a nice whack seemed a good way of showing it. The way he spoke to you, like he didn’t know what he did wrong, made you want to kick the crap out of him for behaving the way he did. For making you fall for him, and then leaving you out in the cold.

“Bravo!” you ran your fingers through your hair, brushing the loose strands out of your face so that Barnes could see the disgust, written on your face. “You're a great actor, Barnes. I, personally, would have given you a fuck you trophy for your outstanding performance tonight!...” he frowned at you in confusion, but that only made your voice grow firmer. “Simply because there’s a fine line between great actors and lousy liars, and the second category members never get an Oscar!...” before even giving your next move a proper thought, you felt your legs carry you back to the door. Tearing it open, you motioned for Ben to get the fuck out of your loft, your haven, your world. “Just like I said, Ben,” you narrowed your eyes at him, noticing him knitting his eyebrows together, feeling the fear rise in your chest yet again. “Good night”. 

Ben was now looking at you, uncomprehending. You were being sarcastic of course, knowing full well that there wasn’t going to be any sort of goodness in his life if he stepped out that door. But it wasn’t only him you were hurting – that he could take. He saw you hurting yourself – you didn’t want him to go, he could tell from the way you tucked strands of hair behind your ears, from the way your lips trembled, from the way you leaned against the door, as if you weren’t able to stand on your wobbly legs…

Instead of walking out, he slowly headed in your direction. You felt your skin shiver under his intense glare. You didn’t move. He soon stood right in front of you, his body nearly pinning yours to the door, his arm pressed against the cold wood next to your aching head…

“Good night?...” he repeated, his voice steady. “Do you really want me to show you how good your night could have been, if you weren’t trying to throw me out this very second?...”

You swallowed frantically, suddenly conscious of his closeness. You felt his words strike your core, as his breath touched your face, so hot and possessing. You slowly looked up, your neck stiff and sore, too fragile for your suddenly leaden, heavy head.

You felt his long, delicate fingers leave a lingering sensation of his touch along your jaw. He caressed your cheekbones, his eyes never quitting yours. His breath hitched as he saw you bite your lip absentmindedly. God, he missed you. He wanted you. His beautiful, flawless Y/N. Wanted to sense the scent of your skin, to feel the warmth of your naked body against his…

You both stood there, completely mesmerized by each other, lost in the moment. 

And then a small high-pitched voice rang in your head, reminding you the events from the party you left so quickly.

Get your shit together, you internally screamed, grasping his hand and tearing it off your face. If he was hoping to score twice tonight, he should have known better than coming here, out of all places. 

“Oh, smooth Barnes,” you scolded at him. “So fucking smooth. So what, I’m on your hit list tonight, too?” you commanded yourself not to cry, but hidden tears rang in your voice like tiny alarms. 

Ben stared at you in confusion, feigning ignorance.

Bastard, you thought.

“So snogging Kourtney wasn’t enough, huh? That bad boy in your pants needs more?” you spit it in his face, your mouth going dry.

Ben’s eyes grew spectacularly wide at your straightforward question, his jaw dropping to the level of his knees. He stared at you in awe of confusion and disbelief.

“Me?!...” he barely managed, “Kourtney?!... Snogging?.. What?!” he gazed at you open-mouthed, still shocked. “How could you… Do you really think we could actually?...” Ben’s bewilderment was so sincere, you caught yourself doubting what you thought you saw. You kept your facial expression unreadable, still watching him closely. “Wow,” he sounded hurt now, his right hand rubbing his chest. “That’s… well… Is this how bad you think of me? I came there with you, and you were the only person I counted on leaving with tonight,” his eyes finally met yours, his words knocking you off your feet.

You felt the weight of guilt settle on your chest, your feelings all over the place. You knew what you saw. She kissed him. You saw them.

“But I...” you bit your lip and stared down at your feet. “I saw you, Ben, I...” you looked back up, mumbling, all of your confidence gone. “You kissed her, I saw you both?”

“When?” he spoke softly now, clutching his hands behind his back, in an attempt to stop them from rubbing small circles on your cheeks. 

“Right before I left... It was dark, I know, but I swear it was you... You were the only one wearing this hideous pink tie...” you buried your fingers in your hair, tearing it hard. 

Did you just slap Ben-fucking-Barnes across his face for nothing? You closed your eyes, already knowing the truth. There was one another guy at the party wearing this kind of tie... The tie was the reason you noticed him in the first place. 

“I wasn’t,” Ben voiced your thoughts. “Sebastian Stan was wearing one, too.”

You felt the rush of warmth and tenderness towards this tall, delightfully attractive man, as you dared to face him again. Before you could whisper as much as a word of apology for everything you’d done for the past three hours, you felt Ben wrap his arms around your waist, crashing his unnaturally hot lips into your mouth, his hands traveling down your back. Closing your eyes again, you ran your fingers through his lush mane of hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Ben tasted like all those things you loved so much, all whipped in a lavish frenzy – your favorite red oranges, marshmallows, glazed in chocolate, apple pies and strawberry... Meanwhile, his hands explored your fired-up body, worshipping your curves, your shoulder blades… You buried your face in his collarbone, your lips ghosting over his Adam’s apple, your hands scratching his back with your nails. He pushed his hips against yours, his hands cupping your full breasts softly, but demandingly... 

Kissing you passionately, Ben could feel his cock twitch, ready. But he needed to know you knew what you meant for him, that he would die before calling you his friend again...

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered in your ear. “I always have. You’re everything I have ever wanted, and I have no idea how my feelings managed to escape your attention...” he cupped your cheeks in his hands, staring in your eyes, making sure his message was received. “I want you to be mine.”

You could feel your face enlighten with a blissful smile, as you gently bit his neck, hearing him chuckle softly.

“I have always been yours…” you murmured, your grip around his neck tightening, “And I always will be…” 

With his heart beating wildly, he lifted you up from the ground. 

“Happy birthday, my love,” he whispered to you before gently biting your lower lip. “It’s time I gave you my present, don’t you think?”

Ben Barnes was a man of his word – it was about time he’d shown you how good your birthday night could get, now that you were his...

[allthemslogans]

Army slogans or taglines help if you need to come up with a better slogan for the army of your country.

It has taken me a while to see what the “United States Army” really means. This had more to do with my own ignorance of the U.S. military system — I’m in some ways in my late 30s, after all — than an emotional commitment to the idea of armed force as the ultimate guarantor of peace and stability. But now, I’m coming around, mostly because of this: we’re at war, in Iraq and Afghanistan, and it’s becoming obvious that it’s not clear what we’re fighting for. And that’s alarming, because for a long time the argument for war has been pretty shaky.

But let’s not discuss that here.

What we would rather look into is the fact that armies around the world can make or break the countries they serve for.

And to make any country’s army stronger, you need the citizens to fully support the army and contribute to it but being a part of it.

If that is the case, you can make use of army slogans or taglines that encourage people to become part of your army.

Listed below are some of the slogans or taglines of armies around the world that you can get ideas from, including new slogans or taglines that you can modify and make use of.

Let’s get started.

Note: These slogans are generated by our free slogan generator that uses AI and Machine Learning. Even though we've trained our model to provide you with the best slogans, you may still find some that do not sound perfect.

List of Army Slogans or Taglines for Your Business:

Following are some of the best army slogans or taglines to make use of.

A cavalryman’s horse should be smarter than he is But the horse must never be allowed to know this

A safe army is better than a safe border

An Army of One

An army of principles can penetrate where an army of soldiers cannot

Army Strong

Be All You Can Be

Brave men rejoice in adversity, just as brave soldiers triumph in war

Death is lighter than a feather Duty is heavy as a mountain

Discipline is the soul of an Army

Do not forget that the armed forces are the servants of the people

Do not swallow bait offered by the enemy Do not interfere with an army that is returning home

Get behind the girl he left behind, join the land Army

He will win whose army is animated by the same spirit throughout all its ranks

I am not afraid of an Army of lions lead by a sheep; I am afraid of sheep lead by a lion

I can’t expect loyalty from the army if I do not give it

I destroy my enemies when I make them my friends

I feel an army in my fist

I Want YOU for US Army

If I charge, follow me If I retreat, kill me If I die, revenge me

I’m not a leader now I’m a whole damn army

It is fatal to enter a war without the will to win it

Lead me, follow me, or get the hell out of my way

Live for something rather than die for nothing

Look Sharp, Be Sharp, Go Army!

Neither the Army nor the Navy is of any protection, or very little protection, against aerial raids

Never tell people how to do things

None but an armed nation can dispense with a standing army

Quartered in snow, silent to remain When the bugle calls, they shall rise and march again

Service with Pride

Skill and confidence are an unconquered army

Sleep peacefully at your homes, the Army is guarding the frontiers

Soldiers generally win battles; generals get credit for them

Ten soldiers lead wisely will beat a hundred without a head

The army consists of the first infantry division and eight million replacements

The Army is the true nobility of our country

The army teaches boys to think like men

The conventional army loses if it does not win The guerrilla wins if he does not lose

The dead shall rise to become an army amongst themselves

The harder the conflict, the more glorious the triumph

The only easy day was yesterday

The soldier is the Army No Army is better than its soldiers

The supreme quality for leadership is unquestionably integrity

This is the army! Nobody can do the best they can

Those who stand for nothing fall for anything

To defend a country you need an army, but to defend a civilization you need education

To find us, you must be good To catch us you must be fast But to beat us… you must be kidding

Today’s Army Wants to Join You

Victory usually goes to the army who has better-trained officers and men

War is life multiplied by some number that no one has ever heard of

We live by chance, we love by choice, we kill by profession

Stop. Go. ARMY.

ARMY perfection at its finest

Oh my god it’s Army

Mamma Mia That’s a Spicy ARMY!

Award-winning ARMY

That’s Handy Harry! Stick It In The ARMY

Problem? The Solution: ARMY

ARMYrific

I wish I was Army

ARMY is the best forget the rest!

ARMY is a winner!

It’s the ARMY You Can See

Don’t Say Brown Say ‘ARMY’

You don’t want ARMY as your enemy!

Snap into Army!

Way to go ARMY!

ARMY – The Freshmaker!

Nobody does it like ARMY

ARMY is the best!

ARMY you’ll love it!

Worldclass ARMY!

ARMYized!!

Happiness is ARMY-Shaped

ARMY for you!

ARMY – now!

There’s only one true ARMY!

ARMY – play it!

ARMY – see the light!

ARMY – a class of its own

ARMY – a safe place in an unsafe world!

ARMY makes you sexy!

Start the day with ARMY

ARMY – Yabba Dabba Duh!

ARMY – go for it!

ARMY – as good as it gets!

ARMY the best you can get!

ARMY – it’s like heaven!

ARMY – to feel free!

Simply ARMY!

ARMY-Lickin’ Good

ARMY Making people successful in a changing world

The Sweet You Can’t Eat Without ARMY

Good To The Last ARMY

ARMY : Music to the ears

Let Your Fingers Do the Walking Through the ARMY

World’s finest ARMY

Nothing Comes Between Me And My ARMY

ARMY satisfies the need

ARMY – go for it

The Lighter Way To Enjoy ARMY

ARMY? Yes please

ARMY Is Forever

ARMY for everybody

Feel good with ARMY

Feel The Raw Naked ARMY Of The Road

Lucky ARMY

ARMY is the best

We Build ARMY

Fall Into The ARMY

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Ooh la lArmy

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Feel it – ARMY

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Happiness is ARMY -Shaped

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Get In My ARMY

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ARMY only if you want the best

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Something Special In The ARMY

Do You Have The ARMY Inside?

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You know when it’s ARMY

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Praise ARMY

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Just gotta have ARMY

Gotta LottArmy

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name_entry data-title=Start the day with ARMY

America’s Most Trusted ARMY

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ARMY empowers you

ARMY for all

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Make the world a better place with ARMY

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Made by ARMY

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I’ll show you my ARMY if you show me yours

Come See the Softer Side of ARMY

We Bring The Good ARMY To Life

ARMY whatever you want

It’s your ARMY!

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Don’t Live a Little Live Army

ARMY – when you just feel like it

Step Into The ARMY

The ARMY For All Ages

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With ARMY you’ll have no more worries!

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See the world with ARMY

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You Can On Army Can Do!

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ARMY will do anything for you

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If You’ve Got the Time We’ve Got the ARMY

Saved by ARMY

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Come One Come All To ARMY

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Can you feel ARMY?

Crunch All You Want We’ll Make ARMY

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You can’t beat ARMY

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Good Honest ARMY Since 1896

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Promise Her Anything But Give Her ARMY

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Once You Pop You Can’t Stop ARMY

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ARMY – forget the rest

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Think ARMY

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the science of ARMY

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Do The ARMY

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Say ARMY

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Passion for ARMY

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Feel the ARMY

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ARMY try it you’ll like it!

Want a suggestion? – ARMY!

Super ARMY is Almost Here

I want my ARMY

These are some of the best army slogans or taglines that you can modify based on your own needs and then make use of.

via Slogans

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: GM 48 - DAL - MOMENTS

4-1 Win

Thinking back to October this season can really drive a Sabres fan crazy. The month they normally suck was the one they were world beaters this go around. Game 6 of the season that month was a 4-0 spanking of the Dallas Stars. Now I don’t know what you think of when you think of the Stars, perhaps No Goal if you’re of a certain age, but I think of just brutally frustrating games. Most Sabres-Stars games I’ve watched are physical, low scoring affairs that do not sit well. That’s why chasing them out of town on Kids Day back in October was such a big deal: it was a fun Stars game! It was so good I proclaimed Buffalo had bDe! Not Big Dick Energy, that too but it was a play on words you see: Beat Dallas Energy! It was similarly a defensive struggle but one of the fun versions of that if you can imagine that. Two of the goal scorers in that game, Jeff Skinner and Victor Olofsson, are currently out on injury. The difference with where the Sabres are is also big. They aren’t in a playoff spot and the bye-week makes it safe to say they won’t be this month. However there season really isn’t over. They have to play the kind of defensive hockey we saw tonight from them in order to stay in it as we’ve repeated to ourselves over and over again. They can do it. They had that tight-passing, play together spark we loved so much back in October and if they can do it against Dallas they can do it until Skinner and Olofsson gets back. They certainly won’t be totally screwed as long as Jack Eichel continues to endlessly wrack up points. Hopefully once all the horses are back in formation in February they’ve held the line enough to make an honest to god playoff push down the stretch like we haven’t seen in many years. Tonight gave us the blueprint.

The first period was 4-4 in shots for the longest time. Linus Ullmark got his workout in, especially in the first five minutes, but Dallas didn’t convert on a powerplay and suddenly the Sabres came in. Then as Buffalo started to get their rushes into the O-Zone going Jack got a puck to Sam Reinhart who went in on net with Jimmy Vesey. Reino passed it to Vesey who sorta corralled it past Ben Bishop for the icebreaker. It was 1-0 seven minutes in and though Dallas controlled 5 on 5 shot share and most of the high danger chances the rest of the period looked mighty strong for the visitors. It wouldn’t be unfair to say they really had a tough nose back half of the period. They squared up for the second period with similar zeal but this time it would be hard to say they put up the same critical stats. That is time with possession of the puck went toward the home team by a 2-1 margin. Dallas also retook a comfortable 16-5 lead in shots and extended their high-danger chance lead. This is the thing when we talk about boring hockey being the key strategy in this Skinner-less stretch of January: they can take the shots as long as they play a stout defensive game. Linus Ullmark did his part in this game. When Jamie Benn got the equalizer early in the middle frame it was a convergence of a momentary defensive lapse and one of Ullmark’s painfully out-of-position moves for the tap-in. Linus certainly wants that one back, but he very much kept the Sabres in this game. The game reached a pivotal moment down the middle of the period when the Stars got some great chances and a pair of powerplay opportunities. The Sabres held the line and did what you have to do if you want to play meaningful games down the stretch: scored a goal in a stretch of game they were not the aggressor. Rasmus Dahlin took a shot threw the woods in the slot and the puck found its way in for the 2-1 go-ahead goal. Dahlin had recently taken a penalty for hooking and atoned for his time in the sin bin with a tremendously important crunch time goal. They set themselves up nicely for the third period.

If the bDe thing didn’t get me the explicit tag then this will: Sports are just as good as TV shows because they have both have FUCKING MOMENTS. These special moments that resonate immediately. I think of the moment in Psych where (SPOILER ALERT) Shawn chases after Juliet and they both decide his whole Psychic thing is water under the bridge (SPOILER OVER). The later half of the third period of this game was A FUCKING MOMENT for this Sabres team. The Sabres regained the shot-stifling defensive hockey of their first period and broke up more and more Stars chances as the period went on. They got more chances too. At one point in the last ten minutes Sam Reinhart went around behind net and stripped the puck off Ben Bishop. It didn’t result in a goal, but it jacked up the drama entering the final minutes. Then Lawrence Pilut got called for interference giving Dallas a two-minute powerplay with less then four minutes left. NHL Hockey maybe one of the most motivation-driven sports in North America. This sport has moments where you make or break you whole damn month. The win in Detroit was critical, the win against Vegas was battle, this game was the most decisive game of the month and maybe the back half of the season if they climb back into the race. The Buffalo Sabres grinded down that Stars powerplay to the point where they got breakaways into the Stars zone. The living fossil behind the Stars bench Rick Bowness pulled Ben Bishop and almost immediately thereafter Sam Reinhart and Michael Frolik are cruising into the zone covered tightly by Stars players holding onto this game with whatever they got left. The puck found its way to Frolik who shot it from the tightest angle into the empty net. I have not cheered for an empty netter so hard this season: 3-1 Buffalo! I don’t know if it will be listed as a short-handed goal tomorrow morning but right now it is. What an all caps MOMENT.

The green jerseys in the stands made their way out and as the last seconds ticked away Kyle Okposo missed another empty netter before Zemgus Girgensons tapped it in to wrap this one up at 4-1. Though this game was much closer than that October tilt in Buffalo the score is only one goal different. I’d encourage you not to look at the standings if you’re riding the high of this now three game winning streak. The Sabres are still five points back of a wildcard spot and six points back of a divisional spot. They’re not getting into one of those spots until February if they ever do. Though other teams in their division will have a bye-week next week there are just not enough point to close that gap until February. The victory of this game is not just the two points in the standings, it’s the boost this should give the boys in the room. A road win in which Jack Eichel didn’t even score a goal. A road win in which they had to fight a fight defensively against a team that wants to strike hard and fast. A road win after some mediocre times around the New Year. Every guy in the room should take time to note how this feels. This was the effort you put forward to win games even when down a few guys. This is how you win a game when you won’t go quietly into that good night. There hasn’t been a valuable March game for the Sabres in many years approaching a decade. If they play like this more often than not they might still have something to play for in March.

Like, comment and share this blog, that actually helps me carry on this blog I do just for passion; especially when the team doesn’t provide a lot of it. Tonight they did. Saturday night in Nashville there will be no NFL Playoff games to distract ourselves with. These Sabres will either build on this win and give us a good feeling going into the bye-week or they’ll make us wonder what we should expect when they get back. For now: credit to em. For needing to play boring, defensive hockey during this stretch to win, they made this one fun. The Sabres Dads are having a good rager tonight in Dallas. A rager in Nashville would be a whole other level, and not just because of the fun of the City of Nashville! Let’s Go Buffalo!

Thanks for Reading.

P.S. Curtis Lazar has earned at least a one-year deal when this season is over, right?

[pedroscurls]

Title: You’ve Got A Friend In Me

@laymetorest77 requested: Okay so since Fat Joey had died & there was that little part that Negan was saying his respects over the walkie, I think maybe there was a burial for him. What I'm thinking is the reader was his sister & she's super upset at the fact that he passed away & she visits his grave every day & one day Negan catches her (he's never noticed her before) & she's singing some song they used to sing to each other when they were kids & he's super stunned at how well she can sing?

Character(s): Negan and Reader Summary: Negan realizes that Fat Joey has a sister. Little does he know, she’s also got a voice of an angel. Word Count: 1,610 Author’s Note: I absolutely love writing a softer side to Negan, so thank you so much for requesting this! It’s such an interesting idea that I was super excited to write about it! The song I also chose was a song that my I have always sang with my brothers when we were younger! Thank you again for requesting, and I sure hope this exceeds all expectations! Enjoy! :-)

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(GIF Source: my other blog @avecxplaisir)

It had been a month since your brother, Joey, died by the hands of the Alexandrian that Negan kept locked in his cell. You weren’t the same since he passed away. You found every reason to not come into work at the kitchen. You spent every day lying on your bed, crying into your pillow.

Though, you did manage to leave your room only to visit your brother’s grave. It meant a lot to you that the rest of the Saviors decided to bury him rather than burn his body for safety measures. You never did want Joey to become a Savior, but he convinced you that it was going to be able to help you lessen your workload in the kitchen.

Today, you decided to leave your room and walk to the grave at the back of the Sanctuary. You kept your eyes focused on the ground, avoiding the solemn looks on the strangers’ faces. You hated that your brother was able to get along with everyone that when he passed, many people were shocked and sad to see him go.

Once outside, you pressed a hand to the wooden cross that the fellow Saviors had created for your brother. You noticed his name written perfectly against the wood before you sat down on the grass, sighing quietly.

“It’s really tough without you here, Joey,” you mumbled, staring at the tombstone. “I really wish you were… I wish it was me that took your place. Damn it.”

Negan suddenly appeared. He missed Joey’s burial, but he always made sure to drop by his grave. Though, he decided to remain in the back towards the building so that you wouldn’t be startled by his presence. He heard every word you said, feeling the guilt become more prominent.

“You shouldn’t have been the one that was there, Joey…”

You brought your legs to your chest and shut your eyes, reminiscing every memory you shared with your older brother. It seemed so distant, yet so close at the memories. Joey was gone and all you had left was yourself. You were used to your older brother taking care of you, urging you to break out of your shell and take a risk.

“Who am I going to sing to now?” you whispered, tears slowly falling down your cheeks. “Who’s going to motivate me and push me to become better? I don’t – It’s hard living here without you, Joey… You brought us to this place and I can’t imagine staying here now that you’re gone.”

The silence consumed you. All you could listen to was the breeze of the wind and nothing else. You expected Joey to appear and hear his voice, but you knew it wasn’t going to happen. He was gone and now you were alone.

You hesitantly glanced around the area, making sure that you were alone before beginning to sing the song that you and Joey always sang with one another when the both of you were young.

You’ve got a friend in me

You’ve got a friend in me

When the road looks rough ahead

And you’re miles and miles

From your nice warm bed

You just remember what your old pal said

Boy, you’ve got a friend in me

You sang quietly, doing your best to sing as well as you possibly could, but the tears continued to cloud your eyes. You wanted nothing more than Joey to continue the next verse, but when your eyes settled on the wooden cross, tears began to spill even further.

You’ve got troubles, and I’ve got ‘em too

There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you

We stick together and can see it through

‘Cause you’ve got a friend in me

You’ve got a friend in me

Negan slowly stepped forward at the sound of your voice. It had been a long time since he heard music that he enjoyed listening to, so when he heard you sing, he was blown away. He wondered how come he had never noticed you before.

Many people believed that Negan didn’t like Joey, but it was the complete opposite. Fat Joey was one of the few that remained loyal to him. He did as he asked without any questions and made sure that it was done impeccably.

Losing Joey made him realize how much he considered the other man his friend. Negan didn’t know why the good always left this planet while the bad were living through this nightmare.

He was taken out of his trance when he heard you continue to sing. Negan wanted nothing more than to hear you sing every day; your voice was angelic and soothing.

Some other folks might be

A little bit smarter than I am

Bigger and stronger too

Maybe

But none of them will ever love you

The way I do

It’s me and you, boy

You rested your cheek against the cross, holding onto it tightly as your voice began to echo throughout the opened space. You were glad that you were alone because you didn’t have an exact explanation about what was happening.

Many believed that you would have been able to grieve and realize that you had a job to do at the Sanctuary: to contribute, but it was difficult. You didn’t want to believe that your older brother was officially dead.

And as the years go by

Our friendship will never die

You’re gonna see it’s our destiny

You’ve got a friend in me…

You’ve got a friend in me…

Suddenly, Negan accidentally stepped on a stick that caused an uncomfortable silence to linger between the both of you. When you turned around to look at him, you immediately wiped your tears and kneeled in front of him.

“I – I’m sorry, sir,” you mumbled.

Negan sighed, dropping down to be at eye level with you. He lifted a finger under your chin and tilted your attention solely on him.

“You’ve got a really nice fucking voice… What did you say your name was?”

“[Y/N]… I was just leaving. I wanted to say hi to my brother,” you admitted.

Negan sighed, looking into your eyes. “Fat Joey –”

You cleared your throat.

“Joey was one of my top Saviors. He made sure that the Sanctuary was safe whenever I was gone. He was loyal and he had a goddamn great sense of humor too. Joey also talked a lot about you. I’m surprised as fuck that I’ve never seen you before,” he chuckled.

“He did?”

“He said that he’s doing all of this so that you would be protected. He really loved you. Anytime a Savior would comment about you, his instinct to become the protective, big fucking brother kicked in. It was a bit funny to see, given the fact that he wouldn’t necessarily hurt a fly,” Negan smiled.

“Did he – When you found him, did he turn?” you asked.

Negan shook his head. “He didn’t suffer, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“He was my best friend…”

Negan hesitantly rested a hand on your knee, patting it gently to provide some sense of comfort for you. You looked over at him and sighed, nodding to yourself.

“I have an offer for you,” he said.

“What…” you widened your eyes, thinking of the possibility of becoming a wife.

“No, not that. You’re too special to become a damn wife. I want you to sing for the Sanctuary. We can have you sing every night for two hours. Kids, families, Saviors… Anyone is welcome to attend…”

“I can’t, Negan… I – I’m not –”

“If you say you aren’t good, doll, I will lose my shit… And I’m sure your brother would too,” he interrupted.

“I’m scared,” you whispered.

“For what?”

“What if people don’t like the way I sing?”

“Well, they can’t necessarily choose who they want to listen to, can they? Your voice is fucking beautiful, [Y/N]. What better time to showcase your skill than now?”

“Joey always tried to make me go up on stage and sing in front of a crowd of people, but I was always so scared…”

Negan sighed, looking over at you. When you looked into his eyes, you didn’t see the façade of a big, bad wolf that he liked to display for the rest of the community to see. In fact, he seemed genuinely honest about what he was telling you.

“Why are you scared?” he asked.

“I don’t want to fail…”

“How can you fail if you never tried, doll?”

You bit your lower lip. Negan was right. You were always so scared of rejection, fear of being told that you weren’t good enough, but they were simply assumptions. It was your negative thoughts that managed to take over your confidence.

“I just –”

“He’ll be there, [Y/N]… Joey will be watching. He may be gone, but fuck, he’s living through you. Do you know why?”

You shook your head in response.

Negan slowly smiled, “Because you have the same look of innocence in your eyes just as he did. You look at me, you look at this new world and believe that we can bring it back to what it once was. Joey was one hell of a man, one hell of a Savior, doll, and I’m so fucking sorry for what happened…”

You wiped your eyes. You could feel the tears spilling from the corner of it. “Okay… I’ll do it…”

Negan grinned. “Perfect! You’ll sing tonight. We’ll give it a test run. Invite just a small crowd.”

“Okay, Negan…” you replied hesitantly.

“You’re going to be great, [Y/N]. I know it, and I’m more than fucking sure your brother does too.”