#found out i could do that on our way to a snow cabin with my family like 2 years ago. maybe more | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nsharks · 2 years

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part five —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.5k tags: death. blood. zombies of course. lowkey cannibalism implication. reader menstruates. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn. enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: I’m really going for the slow burn sorry

The days are difficult to keep track of.

You don’t have a calendar. Instead, you begin making mental markers of events in your head. 29 days since you left your old camp. 22 days since Ghost nearly killed you. 10 days since your face became the potential meal for another human.

10 days since Blue disobeyed her skull-faced father.

He hasn’t sent you away yet. You figure the two of you are in the clear. Still, you have found yourself avoiding his dark stare even more than before.

“Don’t worry,” Blue had told you the second night she came to gently anoint your arm. “I was careful about it. I memorized the way the tube was in the kit, and I’m putting it back exaaaactly the same. I used to sneak some extra Nutella from our storage and Ghost only caught me in the beginning. I’ve gotten better at sneaking past him, okay?”

All you could do was cling to the little piece of trust you shared with her. Ten days later, the memory of it has now congealed into a thick, baby-pink scar, just like the one beneath your ribs. The pain has softened to tenderness. You used your knife to clip off the stitches.

This morning, the usual soft-tailed alarm wakes you up. A bright grin hovers above your head.

“Special day today,” Blue announces. Lazily, you rub your eyes. Yesterday was the first day you managed to kill a deer. You hung the meat up over a fire to smoke it for preservation. For once, the feeling of a stuffed stomach sang you into a deep sleep.

“What?” you ask, blinking away your slumber as you touch a hand over your abdomen. You can still feel where last night’s dinner is nestled.

“It’s my birthday,” she says. Grim flutters over your arm as she sits down beside you. Naturally, your legs move over to allow just the right amount of space for her. You’ve grown used to this guest in your shed.

“Your birthday?” You sit up. “What day is it today?”

“February 19th,” she recites. Of course. Ghost probably keeps track.

Then, her hand slips something into your palm. Something small, hard, and wrapped in plastic. You flicker your gaze to the smuggled good— a little sweet. When you look back at her, she sheepishly reveals to you the other three she has in her pocket.

“I’m only allowed to have four on my birthday,” she explains. “Thought you would want one to celebrate.”

“Thanks.” Your lips etch up at the corner. “Happy birthday.”

Even tiny offerings like this can make you nervous. They aren’t nearly as lucrative or important as antiseptic. In the hall where their bedroom doors and the bathroom are, you’ve spotted a fourth door at the end where they dip in and out for stored food. They have nonperishables. Their rabbits will always breed. Ghost can always hunt. But pharmacies won’t restock their shelves.

Still, you instinctively crane your head forward to peek out the door of your shed, searching for her father’s shadow.

Blue notices.

“He’s making breakfast. Don’t worry.” Then, under her breath, she adds: “Besides... it is mine to give if I want to."

You pop it in your mouth.

“Fuck— wow,” you sputter, and Blue giggles. The sugary taste is even stranger than the fullness in your gut. You can’t remember the last time you ate anything that wasn’t stale, foraged, or killed.

Here in the small shed, the two of you suck on your candies for a quiet moment before breakfast. The pretty snow outside has melted, but the Northern air remains cold and bleak. Bare soil and scattered twigs lay under your boots when you finally head to the cabin.

Despite your fat dinner from the night before, you indulge in an equally heavy breakfast of smoked venison. Your body still has some catching up to do. Ghost and Blue’s breakfast consists of Grim’s sister, apparently. She gives at least three apologies to him for it.

You’re not sure what Ghost manages for Blue’s birthday. You can’t recall how you celebrated that last birthday of yours - the one before the world ended. You never bothered celebrating anymore of them after that even though Paul used to keep his own calendar going. It seemed pointless. When your nephew was still alive, you tried putting effort into his. You’d find a twig for each of his years and stick them in the ground for him to blow the flames off of. You would make a little crown for him out of flowers. It was enough to make his eyes light up, even if only for a day.

But he died at age seven. Then, there were no more birthdays celebrated.

To your surprise, Ghost fishes something out of his pocket after breakfast. Metal that clanks and sings. Car keys.

So it really is a vehicle back there?

“C’mon, kid. Get your coat.”

“She’s coming, too, right?” Blue’s eyes flicker to you as she stands from the table.

Come where?

The masked joints of Ghost’s jaw clench with a spark of irritation. Avoiding him has been easy. He usually doesn’t talk to you, anyway. Your interactions have been kept to asking him for rags and soap to bathe with and him watching you braid Blue’s hair.

But now he gives you a brief stare and mumbles plainly, “Thought we might just put her in the trench while we’re gone.”

An audible, sharp breath floods your ribs.

“He doesn’t mean that,” Blue is quick to assure you with an uneasy smile before she gives him a pointed look. “It is my birthday and I am inviting her, okay?”

This is one where Ghost doesn’t put up a fight.

So it is today that you see what resides under the tarp behind their cabin. Ghost lifts it back to reveal a faded-black pickup truck. Your irritation from the sight only swells when you see that there is a kayak in the truck bed. Another part of his emergency plan, maybe? What doesn't he have?

Ghost opens the door, lowers the front seat, and sends you to the back. Blue gets the passenger side.

As her father wraps around the hood to get in, Blue looks over the seat and chimes, “Cool, huh?” You nod. “It’s only for emergencies, you know. But we go for little drives sometimes so it doesn’t stop working. Right, Ghost?”

He hums a low response as he sits in front of the wheel.

You touch your hands over the cracked leather seat beneath you. The inside smells like faded bourbon and ash. You notice an old cigarette tray in the front. This feels like a snapshot of Ghost’s old life, perhaps the one outside of the military. Maybe whatever version of him used to drive this car actually used his real name and wore an exposed face. Maybe he used to put an infant-version of Blue in a carseat in the back. For the first time, a small wonder of who else could have sat in here with the two of them - the parent that is missing - touches your brain, but you are quick to swallow it. That history isn’t worth the risk that could come from asking about it.

The engine awakens with a few coughs and you notice that the reader on the dash indicates that the fuel is just below full. What you are finally willing to pry about forms as a question under your breath.

“How did you get all this?”

Dark eyes flick to meet your gaze in the rear-view mirror. Swallowing, you hold his stare for only a moment before Blue is the one to answer you.

“Ghost knew about everything before the rest of the world,” she explains, furrowing her brows. “I thought I told you that already.”

“What?”

“You know,” she waves a hand around, “Military? Special Air Service? He knew.”

You didn’t even think of that. The rest of you knew nothing and suffered. Ghost knew ahead of time and could prepare.

He stops her from continuing by giving a gentle nudge to her shoulder. “Gonna pick out the music or am I doing it?”

You shake away the thoughts. Your ears perk up. Music?

“No.” Blue instantly flies her hands to the glove compartment where a small stash of CDs slips out. “I’m picking! It’s my birthday.”

It is almost dizzying, how unfamiliar this is to you. Adrenaline, hunger, grief— you understand these well. Listening to the CD that Blue pops in the tray as Ghost starts driving? This is weird. You don’t know what it is you feel. Loud drums and sharp guitars fill your ears along with the hum of the truck. The tires slowly snap over twigs on the ground. Blue merrily sings - screams, even - along to the song. Can you remember it? You search through the crevices of your brain. Of course. Nirvana.

It is a short drive.

Ghost’s gloved hand lazily steers the wheel through a routine path in the trees. He must follow the same one every time they do this. Blue rolls down the window and sticks her head out so the light wind can dance with her hair.

She feels safer to look at. She always does. She is the one who wants you here; he probably brought you only because he doesn’t trust you alone at their camp. So your eyes settle on Blue. Your fingers thoughtlessly slip under the sleeve of your shirt and pick at the healed scar on your arm. You watch her beam and act like the child she is. You listen to the music. You don’t know when you will ever get the chance to again.

The drive only lasts two songs. Ghost may have to get the car going a bit, but he is not willing to waste precious fuel. He goes in a few circles before driving to the pond. He helps Blue out. He almost forgets to lower the seat for you. Blue has to remind him with a hissed "Dad" and a tug on his hand.

The pond is quiet and all liquid now. There hasn’t been another growling visitor here since the one Ghost killed. You’re not sure what he did with the corpse of the man, but it was gone shortly after that day.

Ghost lifts Blue up into the truck bed, right next to the kayak. You find a tree stump to sit on a few paces away. He slips out two cans from his pockets— you squint and make out tuna and peaches. They must be favorites of hers saved for her birthday because she eats them all by herself.

“Eleven, huh?” Ghost leans against the side of the truck as she snacks. He pretends you aren’t there. He ruffles her hair. “Big year, kid. Feel different?”

“Not yet,” she says with her mouth full. Her porcelain cheeks flush as she looks at him. “Did you feel different at eleven?”

“Can’t remember,” Ghost mutters lowly, but you can hear him. You try not to look. “Long time ago.”

"Soooo long ago, huh?" she smirks. "Old man."

"Come off it," he says, but amusement hides under the gravel of his voice. "Don't call me that."

"Why?" she pokes further. There is room for it here. He is not scolding. Her voice turns hushed. "Do I have to respect my elders?"

"Bloody fuckin' hell," he groans.

He makes a move to take away her canned peaches. Blue holds it up and scoots away. Ghost could still get it if he wanted. He's not really trying.

You decide to look at the dirt before either of them catches your staring, but when their bickering ceases, Blue points a question in your direction.

“Hey... Do you remember being eleven?”

You lift your head up, suddenly thrown off. You feel two sets of eyes on you now as your brain searches for some answer, knowing well that it is one Ghost will hear.

You can barely remember what Nirvana sounds like. Age eleven? The memories are stored in fragments under all the mud. Your old school. Your sister. Your friends. That house in Norbury. The yard where you stopped playing in the dirt because you suddenly grew interested in boys, instead. You try to fit all the pieces together, but it doesn't feel like you who lived through it all.

“I remember…” you rub one hand over the dry knuckles of the other and fight the brief moisture that threatens your eyes. You are not willing for Ghost to see a tear slip.

“I do remember feeling different.”

That is all you say.

After some more of their banter and the quick drive back to camp, Blue stands up against the tree she likes to play in. You never noticed until now, but there are little knife marks in the bark— five of them. Ghost adds another. It is quite a bit higher than the previous year’s.

Along with her dinner that night, she sucks on the last two of her candies. You try to be present as she talks about the memories from her past five birthdays— all basically the same as today. She doesn’t mention any of the ones from her previous life.

But your mind drifts as you listen.

You keep thinking about Ghost’s truck. You think of all he has— their medicine, changes of clothes, guns and ammo. You don’t have these things. At your old camp, you had the bare necessities. Paul managed to get the most commonly-used antibiotics and some alcohol to clean wounds. But you didn’t have time to grab any of it during your escape.

You don’t know how long you will be here and you don’t know what the future looks like for you, but you know you can’t risk Blue sneaking you more medicine. Ghost might not notice a little ointment missing from a tube, but too much and he will. God forbid you ever need antibiotics. Taking pills from a bottle? He definitely has the exact numbers memorized.

It is not until his cockney accent rumbles low that you are grounded back in the present.

“Want your gift now?”

When Blue eagerly nods, he stands from the table and leaves, only to return with something in his hand covered in a scrap of cloth. Another bout of curiosity finds you. What could he possibly gift her? You watch Blue lift up the cloth to reveal a handmade, wooden figurine.

She exhales a smile. She doesn’t seem too surprised by it but is still elated, taking the gift in her hands and smoothing her finger over the whittled shape.

It’s a squirrel. You can see it better as she looks over it. A squirrel with two circles carved around the eyes. A pair of glasses?

“He’s perfect,” she tells her behemoth of a father, who bends down to her level and strokes her hair.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says. “Just how I imagined him.”

This is the final tradition you learn about today. The wooden squirrel is part of a collection, she explains. You’ve never been inside Blue’s bedroom. You are not allowed, of course. But she shyly admits that she has her own village going on in there and that more wooden residents are added on each birthday and holiday. She seems hesitant to tell you too much about them in the same way she was hesitant for you to hear Ghost call her Baby Blue.

The eleven-year-old brave enough to rebel nibbles her lip as she speaks, clutching her gift.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you find yourself quietly saying, looking between her and Ghost. “We all have things we like to keep to ourselves. You don't have to tell me, you know."

You feel his thick presence, the way he seems to stifle the room even in the lull of these moments where the reality of your stay here can be ignored. You give a small smile, just for her, anyway.

“It sounds cool, though," you add.

She blushes and slips away to put the squirrel in her room.

And then the last piece of Blue’s birthday is not a tradition. Instead, it is all you have to offer to this girl who has your back.

You do her hair.

You try for something a little different this time.

Half-up with two smaller braids that join together.

As usual, dark eyes watch from the couch.

That whole deer feeds you for more than just a week.

Despite this, you decide to go out into the forest and practice your aim. You recall how your failed shot at that man’s head resulted in snarling teeth snapping at your flesh - you want to get better. Each day, a new tree stands victim to your practicing arrows. You have to carve some more of them with the knife Ghost gave you to replace the ones that break from penetrating the tough bark.

You feel like you own more strength now.

A pillow to sleep on, bountiful protein, and properly healed wounds have offered some back to you. You don’t feel so fatigued. Your thoughts seem easier to find. You have a new marker to make the days feel less blurred together— Blue's birthday.

It must be March 1st today, then.

When you decide your practice is done for the afternoon, you make it back to camp. You ask Ghost for a wash rag to clear your skin of the cold sweat that has collected. He is preoccupied with a game of Monopoly with Blue but begrudgingly retrieves one for you. Though, it is thoughtlessly tossed to your face. Blue apologizes on his behalf.

You don’t have it in you to care.

Because today is the first day your gaze doesn't pry away when it finds your reflection in the mirror. The face that stares back at you - the one he threw the rag at - is one you think you can recognize. The cheekbones do not stand as angular and lean. Your lips have some color and fat to them. Not as much as Blue’s rosy pink ones, but some.

It is also the first day that an old friend returns to you. When you glide the damp rag between your thighs, blood collects. Except for this time, it is not incited by a caltrop or knife. You don’t panic with the thought of how it will be patched up and stitched and kept clean. Rather, you almost groan with the realization of what you need to ask of Ghost.

The hunger and stress of fleeing led you to almost forget about it. Your period is definitely weeks late, but now it is here again. Perhaps, another piece of health your body has been given back.

With wet hair and your dirty clothes shucked back on, you find the two of them still on the rug. They have moved on to Battleship.

“Ghost.”

Both of them look at you. Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you dig your nails into your palms.

“I need another rag.”

“What for?” His voice arrives in an edged drawl. “Just bathed, didn’t you?”

“Are you okay?” chimes Blue, frowning. She sits up.

“I’m fine,” you say slowly. “I just need another one.” You meet the clouded eyes you prefer to renounce, set behind the more frightening skull this time. “A dry one.”

Although Blue’s nose remains scrunched in confusion, he seems to understand.

Wordlessly, Ghost finds you another. This rag is not offered to your face. Instead, he murmurs a “here” under his breath and gives it to your hands. In this brief exchange, you detect the familiar heat that is emitted from his brawny form. It is so different from the bucket of cold water you just bathed with.

Despite the enigma and tension, there is some of Ghost you understand. He is willing to give you small things. A rag for your period. A little bit of thread for your stitches. An outdoor shed to sleep in. A pillow and blanket they don’t even use.

What he is not willing to give is anything that he deems too valuable, and anything he decides poses a risk. His trust included.

This is why you must find a way to take care of yourself. So it is today, with your body showing you signs of its regained health, that you decide you finally need to figure out the journey to get supplies of your own.

taglist: @savagemistresss @morganvoorhees @dinsverdika @cated18 @lolszass @jeswiii @all-good-things-have-an-ending @alternatealt @uvoiid @underatreedrinkingtea @ramadiiiisme @crissteetee67 @lexi-zsy09 @spikespiegell @littlezarp @rebel-soldat @4headkissess @mckenzieriley69 @moxxiestar @palomaxaxaxa @msjaeger @galacticstxrdust @anubiseqq @l-0-v-3-r-z @kakashiislut @a-queen-blr @random0lover @hehatesmati @ghost-with-a-teacup @konigbabe

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #call of duty #fanfiction #zombies

1K notes · View notes

silentglassbreak · 2 months

Text

Fragmented

Noah Sebastian x OFC

I’M BACK BABY.

You didn’t actually think I wasn’t going to write Noah and Leena’s wedding, did you?! What kind of monster do you think I am?? LOL I hope you enjoy.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing @malerieee @jilliemiw86 @thisbicc @xx-like-a-villian-xx @diabolicdiatonics

Epilogue

Who decides what a flower is named? Who looked at a flower and said ‘rose’, or ‘tulip’, or ‘daisy’? Whoever was in charge of that was a strange individual.

These thoughts ran through my mind as I stared at a bundle of black pansies. Thats what I mean; who the fuck named these flowers?!

It was easier to think about that, than feeling the pitting fear in my gut. The last six months had been dream-like. Leena agreeing to marry me, and being over the moon and showing her ring off to everyone. She had been so busy during this time, planning and preparing for Laura to have the baby (which she did last month), I felt as though I only saw her in blurs.

She was always running, but what made it acceptable was that she was no longer running away from me. When the days finally relaxed, that’s when she found her way home, into bed, where no one else had her attention but me. She spent her free time gushing about the wedding plans, and making sure everything was perfect.

She had near complete creative control over the wedding, given that was her day anyway. I just wanted full planning control over the honeymoon. She had hesitantly agreed, but I knew she wouldn’t be disappointed.

We would spend a week in a cabin in Denali, AK, during the season where there is just enough sunshine to melt the snow. We would do whatever she wanted while we were there, but the cabin would be fully stocked in case we didn’t plan to leave. Isolated. Off the grid. A whole week, buried in the woods with her. Hiding from the rest of the world.

It sounded surreal. Like the best case scenario I could ever dream of.

Addie would stay with her Dad for the week in Seattle. The only part I had to really play was completed and set, so I felt a small lift of relief.

That is, until I realized it wasn’t the only part I still had to play.

There were no second thoughts or concerns. My feet were as warm as they could possibly be, and everyone knew that. I wavered none.

Mileena was my endgame. She was everything I would ever need. The woman had me so far under a spell of need and desire - pure unfiltered love and devotion. It was supernatural. A phenomenon very few get to experience in their lifetime. I would do whatever I could to ensure she was mine until our last breaths.

My nerves, however, persisted through the excitement and set in a deep-rooted anxiety. What if I screwed up? What if I still wasn’t good enough? What if she realized that a pathetic, unstable, foolish wretch like myself had captured her light, and ran?

I’m no fool; I know I’m a good man. I just know that she’s better, and that’s terrifying.

I was pulled from my thoughts when a large hand clapped me on the shoulder.

“You alright over here, mate?” I turned to see the long, dark-haired Brit staring at me, a contagious smile on his face.

It was ironic, given that I was once foolish enough to be concerned and jealous of him.

“Hey Oli.” I gave him a calm smile. “I’m good, just a little anxious.”

He nodded, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

“Well, fuck yeah you should be! You’re getting married!”

Letting out a hard breath, my eyes glanced around the room. People were filing into their seats and stopping to say hello to me and the guys, who were properly lined up behind me.

I looked back at Oliver, taking note of his black, jeweled suit. “I’m glad you came, man.”

He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side.

“I wouldn’t miss it, brother. You and Mileena are the closest example of real love I’ve seen in a while. You’re a lucky man.”

This made my teeth show with how wide my smile stretched. “You’re absolutely right.”

“I’ll see you after the ceremony, alright? Just breathe, remember your lines, and cry if you fucking can, man. They love that shit.”

I cackled, slapping his arm. “Will do.”

Every passing second was painful. We were lined up, ready and willing as ever to witness her show her face. My palms were dampening at an alarming rate, and I continued to swipe them across the thigh of my tuxedo.

“Calm down, Noah. It’s almost time.” Nick’s voice directly behind me whispered, and I felt the lump in my throat form. “You’ve got this.”

My eyes looked down at my shoes, shiny and black, exactly how they should be. The carpet I stood on was a deep crimson, off-setting the white accented patterns everywhere.

The first notes began to play, and my eyes squeezed shut.

This was it. This was where we finished it. This was forever.

First, Laura came down, Addison’s small body in her arms. Her beautiful, tiny black dress flowed, her hair braided and adorned with deep red roses. Laura approached, bringing Addie to me so I could kiss her cheek and give her a quick nuzzle to her nose. She smiled brightly at me, few teeth shining. An unbelievable image of her mother.

Taking her place on the other side of the altar, the music quickly changed, and I watched as Angel, black bow tie on his collar, came down with a white felted box in his teeth.

Uniform as ever, he marched proudly between the rows of seats, and came directly to Nick as he called. My best man took the box, and sat Angel directly next to him. He took a quick second to remove both rings, and stepped across the stage to hand Laura hers. He placed a swift peck on her lips, and patted Addie on the head.

Then, the Officiant stepped forward.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the bride.”

Standing quickly, everyone’s heads turned toward the end of the aisle, and my eyes instinctively dropped to the floor. I had to breathe. I had to keep my composure. I couldn’t slip now. It was fucking showtime, and I never got nervous.

Hearing the crowd gasping and cooing signaled she was coming, and I couldn’t fuck this up now.

Taking a half of a second to will my breathing to steady, I swallowed my stress, and glanced upward, hands tucked neatly behind my back, and legs shoulder width apart. I was ready.

Except that when my eyes caught her, I almost toppled right then and there.

Make no mistakes, Mileena was stunning in every form; made up, dressed down, straight out of a shower or sick as a dog. Didn’t matter. She was breathtaking - always.

But right here, in this very moment, my knees were going to buckle at the sheer sight of her.

Long, midnight hair hung in large, loose curls down her shoulders. Slender streaks of deep red strands hid within the curls. That was new. The stark white dress she wore flowed loosely below her hips, but was impossibly tight around her rib cage, black lace wrapping her midsection in a harsh corset. Her dress was modest, a high neckline coming to wrap around her throat. Lace black sleeves covered the length of her arms, and in her hands she held a variety of black pansies and roses.

All that was lovely, but what made the air rush from my lungs was her eyes. Staring directly at me.

These people, the nearly one hundred bodies all staring at her as she flowed effortlessly down the aisle, holding her Dad’s arm for support, were lost on her.

She could only see me.

Mileena’s eyes were not what I expected. Fear? Nerves? Second thoughts?

None.

They were sure. They were steady. They were all for me.

My chest began tingling, my hands beginning to fidget in anticipation. I wanted to get my hands on her. I wanted to touch her face, feel she was real.

“Who gives this woman to this man?”

Her dad squeezed her hand, smiling down at her.

“I do.”

He kissed the back of her hand before giving me one last, stern look. Taking his seat, I took her fingers in mine and led her up to me. Her lips were turned up in a smile that I had never seen. I couldn’t place what it was, but it was blinding.

The words being spoken about our gathering, and why we were here were mute to me. I couldn’t stop looking at her, hands in mine, and admiring how absolutely perfect she was. No flaws. No hesitation.

How the fuck did I manage this? How did I get this fucking lucky?

“Noah, your vows?”

It occurred to me that I was being spoken to, and I had to pull myself from the bubble I had built around her and I.

Realizing what was expected, I smirked, nodding my head. “Right, sorry.”

There were small giggles in the crowd.

I cleared my throat, and regained eye contact with her.

“Mileena Jane,” Her face softened, fingers squeezing mine. “You would think that given my profession, I’d be good at this kind of thing.” She raised an eyebrow. “But I’m not, so please, forgive me if it’s awful.”

Rolling her eyes playfully, she squeezed m my hands again encouragingly.

“I met you during the darkest time of my existence. I was a drunk, disgusting mess when you found me. Although I had never expected anyone to be willing to put up with me long enough to fix me, you still picked me up, and put me back together.”

Her expression turned to some kind of surprise. I kept breathing, working my way through it.

“You’ve given me everything I could ever ask for, and I admit, I’m greedy enough to accept all that I can. You are my absolute light.”

Her eyes were welling up, and I felt slightly proud.

“So, today, I make these vows to you. I vow to protect you at any and all possible consequence. I vow to be faithful, to be fair, and to always bear the weight of our burdens. I vow to never let anyone or anything come between this love we’ve found.”

The tears began slipping down her face.

“I vow to be yours, until the last breath I take…” I let a smirk pull my lips. “even if you’re the one taking it, because I forgot to switch over the laundry.”

A harsh laugh choked out of her, and she brought one hand to her lips.

It took her a moment to compose before the Officiant turned to her.

“Mileena?”

She was wiping a single tear from her eye, working hard to not smear her makeup. She giggled.

“I should’ve gone first, because I straight up do not know how to follow that.”

The crowd laughed, and I grinned brightly at her. Her hand rejoined mine and she sighed loudly.

“Oh Noah,” She shook her head lightly, a knowing look on her face. “I don’t think, throughout this time we’ve spent together, you really understand how much you’ve healed me. Having our love, and this life we built, is the only reason I breathe. The only reason I am here today, is because you busted your way into my life, and pulled me from the reclusive shell I had hid in for years. For that, you will never understand how grateful I am.”

The familiar sting began in my eyes, and I remembered Oli’s words. I would let them fall. She deserved to see every last vulnerable second.

“Noah Sebastian Davis,” I inhaled, waiting. “today I make these vows to you. I vow to be your rock. Your ground. The voice that brings you down when the fame goes to your head.” She smirked at me, and the crowd laughed. The first tear fell from my eyes.

“I vow to be your absolute peace. I vow to be steady, never wavering from this place as your partner. I vow to do my best to keep you sane, despite the way I know you’ll fight me.” I squeezed her hands, tears now streaming. “I vow to always be yours, and nothing less. Until my dying day, I vow my life to you.”

We had less than five minutes until the reception started, and we had to make a grand entrance. However, Leena had plans that had to be attended to before we could go anywhere.

She had me pinned up against the wall behind the door of the reception hall, lips attached to mine in a passionate, heated kiss. Her hands were gripping the lapels of my tux in a death grip. My arms were wrapped around her waist, savoring the feeling of her body pressed against mine.

“Do we skip out and head to the hotel? I need you so fucking bad.” Her mouth breathed against my neck as she spoke.

As much as my cock loved that idea, stirring from its place inside my boxers, I gripped her arms, separating us slightly.

“How badly I wish we could, my love. But Laura will murder us both if she doesn’t get to make her speech.”

She groaned, pressing my leg between hers.

“Worth it?”

I chuckled, brushing a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Let’s go, baby. I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

Making our way into the reception, guests applauded as we walked to our table.

The speeches were first. The champagne toast (sparkling water for Leena and I), was complete, and we gave our own speeches seamlessly.

It was time for the first dance, and I smiled at Mileena.

“Ready?”

Her eyes scanned the small stage. “I am, but where’s the DJ?”

The stage was vacated, only a few stray instruments laying across it.

Mileena had planned for our first dance to be set to ‘If I’m There’, played by the DJ. However, unbeknownst to her, I had other plans.

“Oh, he’s on a break. I asked someone else to help us out.”

She raised her eyebrows at me, clearly annoyed that I had changed the plan without her knowledge.

“Where’s my happy couple?” The accented voice rang through the speakers, and her head snapped over to see Oliver stood on stage, suit jacket discarded, and smiling at us. “Ready for your first dance, love?”

Her mouth fell agape.

Nick, Jolly, and Folio climbed the stage, grabbing their respective instruments.

“What is this?”

“I thought you’d like to dance to your real favorite song.”

She was stunned. “What do you mean? If I’m There is my favorite.”

I grabbed her hand, leading her out of her chair. “It’s your favorite Omens song. It’s not your favorite song of all time.”

I could see the gears turning in her head.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you for the first time, Mr. And Mrs. Davis!” Oli’s voice rang out and the guests cheered.

I pulled her onto the floor, and I could see the look of adoration on her face as the guys began the opening chords, Oliver’s voice melodic as ever.

“My head is haunting me, and my heart feels like a ghost. I need to feel something, cause I’m still so far from home.”

When recognition hit her face, her eyes teared up again. Wild of her to think I didn’t know her favorite song.

I pulled her body in close to mine, eyes meeting hers, and smiled warmly.

“Cross your heart and hope to die. Promise me you’ll never leave my side.”

She sniffled. “Noah, I can’t believe you did this.”

“Show me what I can’t see when the spark in my eyes is gone. You got me on my knees. I’m your one man cult.”

Leaning down to speak directly into her ear, I whispered. “I would do anything for you.”

“Cross my heart and hope to die. Promise you I’ll never leave your side.”

She swayed with me, eyes glancing over to Oliver every so often. Her own private performance entrancing her.

“Cause I’m telling you, you’re all I need. I promise you, you’re all I see.”

Leena’s Dad lead Laura out onto the floor. Andy pulled Juliet. Matt pulled his girlfriend Sarah. All of the couples beginning to join us.

“Cause I’m telling you, you’re all I need. I’ll never leave.”

A fierce smile broke out onto her face as the song crescendoed.

“So you could drag me through hell, if it meant I could hold your hand.”

Our bodies kept up with the tempo.

“I will follow you, cause I’m under your spell. And you can throw me to the flames.”

“I will follow you. I will follow you.”

Her head came to rest on my chest, breathing into the side of my neck.

“I love you so much, Noah.”

I smiled, leaning my cheek against her head.

“I love you too, Mileena.”

So you can drag me through hell, if it meant I could hold your hand.

I will follow you, cause I’m under your spell.

And you can throw me to the flames.

I will follow you.

#bad omens #noah sebastian #fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #bad omens cult

58 notes · View notes

mjolnirswriststrap · 9 months

Text

Haunted

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 977

Summary: Part 5/6. The knock at the door isn’t who you expected.

Warnings: None.

“Friday, what’s our eta?” Steve yells out, too anxious to control his voice. “Five minutes.”. That wasn’t fast enough for him. Two days ago he was fighting his best friend on a bridge, now some intern is saying he’s in Austria. How did he get here so fast?

“Calm down, we got this.” Natasha gives him a reassuring look. “I know, but it’s Bucky, he acted like he didn’t remember me, what if I can’t get through to him?”

Natasha feels for her friend, but she can’t imagine what he’s going through. The guy Steve described couldn’t be the winter soldier they’d come to know. Something was afoot but they just don’t have all the pieces yet.

“I haven’t been here since I lost him, it hasn’t changed.” He says looking at the snow capped mountains. They see the clearing they designated for landing just ahead of them. Steve squeezes Natasha’s hand giving her one last terrified look.

They land and it was like any other mission, Black Widow and Captain America working perfectly in tandem. Steve swept the woods east of the helicopter, while Nat wordlessly cleared the west side. They met in the middle, facing south, Steve cocked his head towards the tiny clouds of smoke coming from behind a wall a trees.

You can’t even hear their foot steps in the snow as they sneak their way towards the cabin. You and Bucky didn’t hear a thing as you huddled low in the kitchen, it was the closest you’d been to him, maybe it was his military experience telling him what to do, or it was his natural instinct to keep you safe from whatever was outside.

You tightly held on to Bucky, your face buried in his shoulder. “He found me! I knew I shouldn’t have called Darcy.” You begin to cry, why couldn’t you just be free. You hear a knock at the cabin door and your body freezes. Bucky has his right arm tightly wrapped around you, keeping you close. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”.

You look into his icy blue eyes and you know what he said was a promise. You nod to him as he lets go of you and stands. He cautiously walks to the door, peering out of the window. All Bucky can see is two shadows through the frosted glass. He opens the door, holding his breath, waiting for a fight.

When he’s greeted by the face of his nightmare his heart skips a beat, which is odd, he hadn’t really felt it since he woke up in the snow. “Steve?”, he looks between his friends squinted eyes.

“Buck?” Steve sounds like his heart is breaking. Bucky watches as his eyes soften, this isn’t the Steve from his dream, he wasn’t out to kill him. Without another word Bucky crosses over the threshold, bear hugging his best friend. He doesn’t let go, even when the red headed woman beside them clears her throat.

You waddle to the front door and peak your head around the corner. It wasn’t who you expected. Bucky was squeezing the life out of Captain America, while Black Widow stood there looking utterly in shock.

Steve finally returns Bucky’s hug, understanding this isn’t the same man from the bridge. Bucky releases his friend for a second to say, “I thought I’d never see you again.”.

You never seen two grown men cry before. But here they were, Bucky sobbing into his friends shoulder while Steve stood there letting the tears fall down his cheeks. “It’s really you Bucky?” Steve can’t believe it.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Bucky relents from the hug. Steve looks into his teary eyes, “You don’t remember fighting on the bridge?”.

“My last fight was with you, on the train. I’ve been here ever since.” Bucky feels his heart again, but this time it’s racing. What could Steve possibly be talking about? He’d never fought on a bridge.

“You need to come with us.” The red headed woman said, pointing between you and Bucky. Your eyebrows raise, how were you getting out of this one?

“She’s not going anywhere.” Bucky finally looks away from his friend, now keeping his promise to you. He gives the black widow a murderous look. “There’s the winter soldier!” She says, taping Steve and pointing at Bucky’s face. She was done with today, this was not what she expected.

“Not funny, Nat.” Steve says, giving her a shameful look. He leans past Bucky, into the house. “You really do need to come with us, we can explain on the flight back.”.

With orders from Captain America you’re nodding your head. You couldn’t fight him on this, whatever he had going on was far more important than your disgust for New York. You grab your phone from the kitchen counter, pulling on your thick winter jacket. “Yes, sir.”.

Bucky gives you a look, silently asking if this really was okay. You give him a small smile, this was out of your hands now, you were just along for the ride.

You all packed into the helicopter, no words were exchanged between you as you lifted off from the ground. Your head was spinning, this might be too much for you to handle, but you had to push through, you couldn’t imagine how weird this is for Bucky or Captain America.

You lean your head against the window, letting your eyes close. The adrenaline is gone, leaving you exhausted. Right when you feel yourself drift off to sleep, you hear the woman say “Where did he go?” You look around the small cabin, Bucky’s seat was empty, no indentation showing that he was even there.

You look between the two Avengers, they looked to you for answers. “Did I mention to Darcy that I think he’s a ghost?” You say, scratching the top of your head.

#avengers fanfiction #bucky barnes #avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #fanfic #mcu #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #Steve Rogers #captain america #black widow #natasha romanoff

81 notes · View notes

howlingday · 4 months

Text

Seuqcaj

What if Jacques Schnee was... Well, what if he wasn't Jacques Schnee?

Winter: My father had a stroke years ago.

Willow: He didn't really. Weiss just says he did to excuse his behavior.

Jacques: Did you know that the peanut is neither a pea, nor a nut?

Ironwood: ...So, I understand you were once a huntress?

Jacques: Oh, wait... It is a nut.

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

Lisa: I hear you can you say your name backwards. Is that true?

Jacques: Seuqcaj!

Lisa: And what is your favorite food in the whole wide world?

Jacques: Seuqcaj!

Lisa: ...

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

Weiss: Mother! Have you seen Whitley?! I think I lost him!

Willow: When was the last time you saw him?

Weiss: Last night, when I took him on his first date.

Jacques: I remember my first date~!

Jacques: Your mother never looked lovelier~.

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

Willow: Well, I think Whitley looks dashing, and if you won't go to the gala with him, then I will~!

Jacques: What about me?

Willow: I was going to give you some rubber bands to play with, but if you insist, you can come.

Jacques: Oh... I could have had rubber bands...

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

Willow: Thank you all for coming tonight. Now, we all know why we're here tonight, don't we?

Jacques: To see those keeno nitro rockets! Vroom, vroom~!

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

Winter: I'm at a loss... I don't know if there is a way to fix Penny.

Willow: Your father is working on an experiment of his own. Perhaps you two can collaborate?

Winter: (Walks into Jacques' study w/ Willow, Sees convoluted contraptions at work)

Jacques: (Looking through a microscope)

Winter: And what is the... purpose of this experiment?

Jacques: I'm developing the world's very first fish-powered death ray! It'll make Roman Torchwick's version look like a joke~!

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

Jacques: (Standing next to a snow-woman) Winter, your man troubles are over because I found you the perfect mate~!

Jacques: His name is Ken and he lives in Malibu. He has a girlfriend named Barbie, but she's not much of a lady. More plastic than person, if you know what I mean.

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

Weiss: Father, I'm in love with two people, and I don't know who to choose between them.

Jacques: Oh, that is a tough one. I had gone through similar travails when I was with your mother.

Maybe in the past?

Jacques: (After beating a man senseless) I punch like comet, then drink 'til I vomit, I'm Jackie the Sailor Man~! (TOOT! TOOT!) Agh agh agh agh agh!

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

Willow: Weiss! Jaune! I'm so glad you could make it!

Jaune: It's wonderful to see two people together after thirty years.

Jacques: (Stabs Jaune with a fork)

Jaune: OW!

Jacques: Oh! He is real~!

Weiss: ...Ugh, not one of his better days.

Willow: I'm afraid it is. I just don't know what to do; our marriage has never been this shaken and Jacques just isn't the man he used to be.

Jacques: (From the very top of a high pillar, Dressed up as) NANANANA! BATMAN~! (Swings down, Choking out a server) BATMAN~!

Klein: (Sighs) Very good, sir.

Clerk: ON STRIKE!

Jacques: Excuse me, my good man, but I could put you through with a man who can help. A man named... Batman..

Clerk: Er, that won't be necessary, sir.

Jacques: Oh, yes, it will! (Chops in the neck) BATMAN~!

Willow: (Sighs) Not every bullhead is on strike, are they?

Jacques: (Looks around, Sees Icarus Flights)

On said flight...

Jaune: I guess I could help, but I'll need a babysitter for Adrian.

Willow: This- This flight is dreadfully bumpy!

Jacques: I'll go have a word with the captain. (Enters Captain's cabin, Gasps) A pig?! (Grabs Six Swans bottle) And he's been drinking!

Pilot: (Pig Faunus, Burps)

Jacques: Wait a second... Pigs can't fly... PIGS CAN'T FLY! (Bullhead nosedives)

In the middle of the ocean...

Willow: (Reaching for an oar)

Pilot: (Grunts unintelligibly)

Jacques: I don't care how many stewards and stewardesses you bagged; you're still a lousy pilot!

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

Weiss: Not to worry. I know just the man for the job; my father!

Later...

Adrian: (In a car seat, Giggling as he bounce) I love monster truck show~!

Jacques: (Driving monster truck) Hm? What show? (Continues crushing cars in the street)

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

Weiss: Father, are you sure you're up for this?

Jacques: Weiss, it's only headmaster. Could I do any worse than Ozpin, or Ironwood, or Lionheart, who sold out his huntsman to Tyrian Callows for protection from Salem?

Whitley: Hm... Maybe he is cut out for this.

Jacques: Of course I am! (Pulls on face mask) Now let's rob that bank!

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

Lisa: Our candidates are entering the stage now. Atlas Headmaster James Ironwood, Happy Huntress Robyn Hill, and former Councilman of Mantle Jacques Schnee. Councilman Schnee, an opening statement?

Jacques: As the first Faunus female head of the human supremacy group, I'd just like to say Atlas SUCKS!

Adam: This might actually hurt us more than it helps us.

Lisa: And Councilman Schnee, what would you do in the event of a Grimm invasion?

Jacques: (Cooking at podium, High-pitched) Then, you sprinkle your chicken liberally with old spice~!

Willow: Oh, Jacques, what can we do to save our darling son?!

Jacques: Not to worry, Willow, my darling wife. I have friends in high places who can help us!

At Atlas HQ...

Ironwood: Jacques. Always a pleasure.

Jacques: General Ironwood, my son is being held hostage in Menagerie, and I need you to save him. I've funded Atlas Academy for years, and I've never once asked for anything in return!

Ironwood: You asked to be made councilman of balloon doggies.

Jacques: I never asked to be made councilman of balloon doggies, the balloon doggies demanded it of me!

Jacques: (Holds up balloon doggy) Isn't that right?

Jacques: (Falsetto) "No!"

Jacques: Quiet, you!

Ironwood: Oh, Brothers...

#rwby #the critic #jacques schnee #willow schnee #winter schnee #weiss schnee #jaune arc #whitley schnee #lisa lavender #james ironwood #adam taurus #klein sieben

29 notes · View notes

jujumin-translates · 10 months

Text

Sakuya Sakuma | [SSR] An Oni Protecting The People | Spirit・Snow Demon - Part 2

Kazunari: So that’s what that was all about…

Izumi: You scared us…

Sakuya: Sorry I startled you. I just want to experience what it’s like to be in a place like that so I can better understand how the snow demon felt…

Kazunari: I getcha. I wonder if they’re still doing that one thing this time of year~.

Sakuya: ? What are you looking up?

Kazunari: Found it! What about something like this?

Sakuya: A mid-winter test of courage…?

Izumi: Huh, I didn’t know they even had tests of courage around this time of year. Ooh, and it’s got a story and everything.

Kazunari: Yeah, yeah! Right now it seems like it’s a story about the spirit of a person who died alone in a cabin on the mountain and wasn’t able to move on to the afterlife.

Kazunari: I know you’re not technically playing a spirit, SakuSaku, but aren’t the situations like totes similar? Y’know, like being in a cabin on a mountain in the dead of winter?

Kazunari: So I think if you do the test of courage and go through the story ‘n stuff, you might be able to relate to the feelings of the role you’re playing better!

Izumi: No way, maybe you can be calm like that because you’re you, Kazunari-kun…! Any normal person wouldn’t be able to analyze things that much in a situation like that!

Sakuya: But I wanna go! I might be able to get something out of it if I do.

Kazunari: That’s our SakuSaku! That settles it, us three are SO going. When are you both free, SakuSaku and Director-chan?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: --We made it!

Izumi: It was kind of a hike to get here…

Kazunari: And it’s still cold as ever~.

Tsuzuru: Well, it’s both night and the middle of winter, so of course it is. By the way, how’d you even find out about this test of courage?

Sakuya: Kazunari-san looked into it! Thank you so much for tagging along, Tsuzuru-kun!

Tsuzuru: I told you I’d do whatever I could to help, didn’t I?

Tsuzuru: So this test of courage is the kind where people go around in pairs and solve the riddles together, right?

Tsuzuru: I had a part-time job at a haunted house once, so I have some experience that I can maybe put to use.

Kazunari: That’s my man! MPV Tsuzurun over here!

Sakuya: That’s reassuring!

Izumi: Fufu, let’s all do our best. Well then, here goes.

Staff: I’m going to give you each an item now. It is up to you to decide where and how you’ll use the items.

Staff: You should work with your partner and share your ideas in order to reach the goal.

Kazunari: Well then, let me and Tsuzurun kick this thing off ♪

Tsuzuru: Got it. Well, let’s go.

Izumi: Good luck, you two!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Kazunari: Hmm… maybe put this here?

Tsuzuru: Ah! Maybe don’t use that one just yet…

Sakuya: Huh, that light…

Izumi: Eh?

Tsuzuru: UWAGH!!

Kazunari: Eh!? Tsuzurun, where’d you go!?

Izumi: (Just how scary is this test of courage? If someone who has a high tolerance for horror, like Kazunari-kun, is making a sound like that, I can’t help but wonder…)

Sakuya: Director, are you okay?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Choose!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 1: I’m okay.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: I’m okay. Kazunari-kun and Tsuzuru-kun’s voices just surprised me a little bit.

Sakuya: It startled me too. I wonder what that was about.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 2: I’m kind of scared.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: To be honest, I guess I’m a little scared. I can’t help but wonder after hearing those reactions come from Tsuzuru-kun and Kazunari-kun.

Sakuya: Yeah. It makes you wonder what else there is if it’s that scary so early on…

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: Anyway, let’s go and see what’s going on. Just standing here and listening to them scream is only going to make me more unsettled.

Sakuya: Right. It’s about time for us to get going too. Let’s do our best, Director!

Izumi: Yeah!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: …I can’t see Kazunari-kun or Tsuzuru-kun anywhere.

Sakuya: Yeah. Maybe they’re up further ahead than we thought they’d be?

Sakuya: That light… I wonder if I was just imagining it…

Izumi: Oh yeah, you did mention something like that earlier. What was that ab--?

Ghost: It’s so dark… and lonely… I need the light…

Izumi: AHH!?

Sakuya: UWAAH!

Ghost: The light… give me the light…

Izumi: What does it mean by “light”...?

*Rustling*

Sakuya: Director, could it be talking about this?

Izumi: Ah, a candle! Is that one of the items we got at the entrance?

Sakuya: Yeah! Now where to put it… Ah, there’s an indent in the wall of the entranceway. Maybe it goes in there…

Izumi: But it looks like there are two indents… I know. What if I use my candle too and we put them in together?

Sakuya: Okay. On the count of three. One, two, three…

*Lights flick on*

Sakuya: Ah, that sound… seems like the front door unlocked.

Ghost: …I didn’t have to split you two apart like the last two.

Sakuya: Eh!?

Kazunari: Ah, there you are, Tsuzurun!

Tsuzuru: Jeez, that scared me… I can’t believe I was dragged off into the dark like that when I put one of the lights in…

Izumi: …I guess it was the right choice to put them in at the same time.

Sakuya: Seems like it.

Ghost: Aah, I can feel the warmth of humans through the lights. I had forgotten this warmth…

Ghost: Please melt my lonely, frozen heart.

Sakuya: …Got it. Leave it to us.

Sakuya: I’m sure there are a lot more riddles to be solved around here somewhere. Director, let’s go save everyone!

Izumi: Yeah, let’s do it.

Izumi: (It’s like his urge to save everyone outweighs his fear.)

Izumi: (I can’t wait to see how today’s experience will affect Sakuya-kun’s performance.)

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

#a3!#a3! translation #sakuya sakuma #kazunari miyoshi #tsuzuru minagi #// this backstage was made for the keysmash poly enjoyers (me and like one other person)#‘what the hell is keysmash poly’ so glad you asked *pulls out my powerpoint* so— (i am dragged off stage)

32 notes · View notes

layce2015 · 1 year

Text

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Dead Man's Blood

Masterlist

"Well guys. Not a decent lead in all of Nebraska. What've you got?" Dean asked us after he folds up the newspaper while we sit at a diner. "Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota. Here. A woman in Iowa fell 10,000 feet from an airplane and survived." Sam said. "Sounds more like 'That's Incredible' than 'Twilight Zone'." I said. "Yeah." Sam said while Dean smirks.

"Hey you know we could just keep heading east. New York. Upstate. We could drop by and see Sarah again. Huh? Cool chick man, smokin'." Dean said then he whistles. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?" He asked. "Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday. But in the meantime we got a lot of work to do, Dean, and you know that." Sam said to him. Yeah, all right. What else you got?" Dean asked.

"Ahh, man in Colorado, local man named Daniel Elkins, was found mauled in his home." Sam said and my head shot up as I look over at Sam. "Daniel Elkins is dead?!" I asked, shocked, and the boys look at me. "You know him?" Sam asked and I nodded. "Yeah, he is...or was...a hunter. He taught not only my dad but John as well." I said as I look down then back at Sam.

"W-What happened to him?" I asked and Sam looks back at his laptop. "Well...Sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now, they've found some signs of robbery." Sam replied and I start to get up. "Well, let's go then." I said and the boys follow me and we head to the Impala.

After driving through the snow-capped mountains, we come up to this cabin and run up to the door. Sam starts to lock pick the door and opens it while Dean and I hold up a flashlight. Inside, it looked like a fight broke out as things were thrown across the floor and things were knocked down as well.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today." Dean jokes as I look down at the door and see a familiar white substance. "Hey, there's salt over here. Right beside the door." I pointed out to them and Sam looks it over as well. "You mean protection against demon salt, or oops I spilled the popcorn salt?" Dean asked.

"Oh ha, ha." I said, sarcastically. "It's clearly a ring." Sam said as we go over to Dean and see him flipping through a journal. "That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's." Sam said. "Yep, except this dates back to the 60s." Dean said.

Seconds later, we move into the other room and shine our flashlights around the destruction, including up at the hole in the roof.

"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one." Sam said. "Looks like he put up a hell of a fight too." I said, sadly, as I look around. "Yeah." Sam said as he gives me a worried look. I look at him and nodded at him as if to tell him that I'm okay and we continued to look around.

Dean crouches to get a closer look at the floor. "You got something?" I asked him. "I dunno. Some scratches on the floor." Dean said. "Death throes maybe?" Sam said, shrugging. "Yeah, maybe." Dean said as he grabs a page from a notebook, places it over the marks and rubs a pencil lead over it to get an outline. "Or maybe a message." He said.

Dean peels up the paper then he hands the paper to us. "Look familiar?" He asked us. "Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box. It's a mail drop." Sam said. "Just the way Dad does it." Dean said

After going to the post office and getting a letter, we sit in the Impala and look at the envelope. "J.W. You think? John Winchester?" Sam asked us. "I don't know. Should we open it?" Dean asked when there was a knock on his window

Dean gasps, rears back, and automatically raises his arm, fist clenched, while Sam and I jumped to look out the window. It was John Winchester. When John sees he had shocked us, he smiles.

"Dad?" Dean asked as I scoot over to let John sit. "Dad, what are you doing here? Are you all right?" Sam asked once John gets inside. "Yeah, I'm ok. I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could. I saw you three at his place." John said to us.

"Why didn't you come in, John?" I asked him. "You know why. Because I had to make sure you weren't followed....by anyone or anything. Nice job of covering your tracks by the way." John said and Dean starts to look a bit proud of himself. "Yeah, well, we learned from the best." Dean said, proudly.

"(Y/n) told us that this Elkins guy taught you and her dad alot about hunting but you never mentioned him to us. Why is that?" Sam asked John. "We had a...we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years." John replied then he gestures to the envelope.

"I should look at that." He said and Dean hands him the letter and he opens it. "If you're reading this, I'm already dead..." John reads then he looks through the letter before he lets out a sigh. "...that son of a bitch." He mutters.

"What is it?" Dean and I asked. "He had it the whole time." John mutters. "Dad, what?" Sam asked and John looks up at us. "When you searched the place, did you, did you see a gun? An antique, a Colt revolver, did you see it?" He asked us. "Ah, there was, there was an old case but it was empty." I said to him.

"They have it." John sighs. "You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean asked as John started to get out of the car. "We gotta pick up the trail." He said. "Wait. You want us to come with you?" Sam asked him. "If Elkins was telling the truth, we gotta find this gun." John said.

"The gun -- why?" I asked him. "Because it's important, that's why." John said, roughly. "Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet." Sam said, slightly annoyed. "They were what Daniel Elkins killed best: Vampires." John said and the boys and I look at him, confused.

"Vampires?" Dean said, confused.

"But...dad told me they were extinct." I said to John. "I thought so too. But (father's name) and I were wrong. Most vampire lore is crap. A cross won't repel them, sunlight won't kill them, and neither will a stake to the heart. But the bloodlust, that part's true. They need fresh human blood to survive. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late." John said and the boys and I share a look of worry.

"Sam, Dean, (y/n) let's go." John said to us, later that night as we were sleeping in a motel room. John slaps our feet to wake us up and we slowly sit up. "I picked up a police call." John said as he grabs his jacket.

"What happened?" Sam asked as he rubs his eyes. "A couple called 911, found a body in the street. Cops got there everyone was missing. It's the vampires." John said. "How do you know?" Sam asked. "Just follow me, ok?" John said as he leaves the room.

"Huh, vampires. Get's funnier every time I hear it." Dean mutters as he sits up and Sam gets up and grabs his jacket and I get up and get ready as well.

Later, John finishes talking to a cop on the scene and starts walking back to us as we waited by the Impala. "I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him." Sam said to us, sulking. "Oh don't tell me it's already starting." Dean grumbles. "What's starting?" I asked just as John comes up to us.

"What have you got?" Dean asked John. "It was them, all right. Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour." John said.

"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked, suspiciously. "Sam..." Dean said, exasperated, and Sam turns, sharply, to Dean. "I just wanna know we're going in the right direction." He said. "We are." John said.

"How do you know?" Sam asked as he turns to him. "I found this." John said and he hands Dean something. Dean takes it and holds it up and I could see that it looked like a sharp tooth.

"It's a....a vampire fang." Dean said. "Not fangs, teeth. The second set decends when they attack." John said then he turns to Sam. "Any more questions?" He asked Sam, who looks away and stays silent. "All right, let's get out of here, we're losing daylight." John said and we start heading for our respective cars.

"Hey Dean why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it." John said as Dean looks down at his car. I frown towards him as Sam looks at Dean with a told you so look on his face. Dean grimaces and we get into the car.

"Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten. Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks." I read as Sam drives the Impala, following John, and Dean sits in the passenger seat. "I wonder if that's what happened to that 911 couple." Dean said. "That's probably what Dad's thinking. Course it would be nice if he just told us what he thinks." Sam said, grumpily.

"So it is starting." Dean mutters, annoyed. "What?" Sam asked him, angrily. "Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year. Now we're not with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?" Dean yells. "Hmph. No. Look, I'm happy he's ok, all right? And I'm happy that we're all working together again." Sam said. "Well good." Dean said.

"It's just the way he treats us, like we're children. Even (y/n), who's not even his kid." Sam said. "Oh God." Dean growls. "He barks orders at us, Dean, he expects us to follow 'em without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal." Sam said. "He does what he does for a reason." Dean said.

"What reason?" I asked him. "Our job! There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right? That's just the way the old man runs things." Dean yells. "Yeah well maybe that worked when we were kids but not anymore, all right. Not after everything we've been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line, and letting him run the whole show?" Sam asked as he looks at Dean, challengingly.

Dean gives him a long look before he starts to say. "If that's what it takes." Sam shakes his head as he continues to drive.

"Yeah, Dad. All right, got it." Dean said into his phone, minutes later, then he hangs up. "Pull off at the next exit." Dean instructs Sam. "Why?" Sam asked, angrily. "Cause Dad thinks we've got the vampire's trail." Dean replied.

"How?" Sam asked, anger rising his voice. "I don't know; he didn't say." Dean said. Sam then guns the engine, while Dean and I look at him like he's crazy. Dean turns to look at John's truck as Sam overtakes it and passes it.

Once in front, Sam slams on the brakes, causing the Impala to swerve sideways in front of John's truck, making us stop. "Oh crap. Here we go." Dean mutter as Sam gets out of his car. "Sam!" Dean and I said as we follow out of the car.

"What the hell was that?" John asked Sam, angrily, as he walks out of the truck and walk towards Sam. "We need to talk." Sam said. "About what?" John asked as he and Sam get face to face. "About everything. Where we going, Dad? What's the big deal about this gun?" Sam asked just as Dean and I come up to Sam and we try to hold him back.

"Sammy, come on, we can Q and A after we kill all the vampires." Dean said. "Your brother's right, we don't have time for this." John said. "Last time we saw you, you said it was too dangerous for us to be together. Now out of the blue you need our help?" Sam said then he starts to yell at John. "Now obviously something big is going down, and we wanna know what!"

"Get back in the car." John orders.

"No." Sam said, firmly.

"I said get back in the damn car." John growls.

"Yeah. And I said no." Sam said to him.

"Ok, you made your point tough guy. Look we're all tired, we can talk about this later." I said to Sam as I hold his arm and try to pull him away from John, but he doesn't move. "Sammy, I mean it, come on." I said, calmly, as Dean grabs Sam's other arm and we pull him back toward the car.

Sam moves but he still stares at John then he turns around. "This is why I left in the first place." Sam mumbles. "What'd you say?" John asked and Sam turns back to him. "You heard me." Sam yelled. "Yeah. You left. Your brother and me, we needed you. You walked away, Sam." John shouts, angrily.

"Sam..." Dean and I said as John gets into Sam's face. "You walked away!!" He yells. "Stop it, both of you." Dean shouts. "You're the one who said don't come back, Dad, you closed that door not me. You were just pissed off that you couldn't control me anymore!" Sam screams and Dean and I get in between them, I push Sam back and Dean pushes John back.

"Listen, stop it, stop it. Stop it!!" Dean yells. "That's enough!!" I yelled at the two men as they continue to stare at each other over our heads. "That means you too." Dean said to John as Sam gets into the Impala and then John turns back to his car.

Dean and I stand in the middle, and we look from one to the other. "Terrific." Dean grumbles as I shake my head. "Maybe we should look into putting your dad and Sam into counseling." I said and Dean scoffs as we head back to the car. "You kidding? It would be a warzone in that room." Dean said and I nod. "Good point." I said and we get into the car and we head off.

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean x you #supernatural dean #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural fandom #fantasy #dean winchester x female!reader

90 notes · View notes

sp00kycrumpet · 1 year

Text

When Our Paths Cross Again. (Part Two)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: E

Tags: Soft!Joel; pre-outbeak up till end of Season 1; no use of y/n; sometimes Ellie is the adult in the situation

Warnings: swearing; character death; spoilers (if you haven't watched the series/played the game)

Word count; 5,534 out of 22,020

Will also be posted on my AO3

Part One

After a few days, you could tell Joel was getting frustrated. In the snow, everything everywhere looked the same. You could have walked in circles and never known. He squinted at his map in the dying evening light, Ellie dozed off slumped against your side like a dead weight.

"We'll figure it out Joel. Don't worry." You offered softly, Joel sighing and giving a nod as he carefully folded the map back up.

"I think I know where we are anyway. We just gotta find the river." He lightly pinched the bridge of his nose before pushing himself to his feet. "I'm gonna keep watch, you should get some sleep. Ellie will talk your ear off again tomorrow." Before you could argue, he'd picked up his gun and moved to find a vantage point where he could sit and keep an eye on the surroundings as well as the two of you. You watched him quietly before adjusting the blanket draped around Ellie and closed your own eyes to try and sleep for a little bit. It wasn't exactly comfortable huddled up in what was basically an abandoned shed but it was shelter for now.

When you woke up the next morning, you found yourself alone. Momentarily you panicked they'd abandoned you or something had happened. Until you spotted Ellie's joke book by your feet, a note scrawled on the back page explaining they'd gone to a cabin nearby to see if it was empty or if they could get directions but would be back soon. You groaned and pushed yourself up, grabbing the granola bar Joel had left. You ate it and gathered your things, you weren't sure how long they'd been gone so you decided to go check it out for yourself. Once you had everything, you headed out into the snow - burrowing your face into the collar of the jacket. It was way too big but when it was all that was available, you couldn't exactly be picky. At least it was warm. You followed some footprints across the snow, careful to keep quiet as you picked your way across the open area. You spotted the cabin and quickly moved closer, your heart almost stopping as the door swung open to reveal Joel and Ellie heading out. Ellie stole one of the rabbits hanging by the door as they left, you could hear Joel scolding her as you approached. Suddenly Joel grabbed at his chest and took a moment to lean against a fencepost. You darted over as Ellie babbled at him.

"If you're dead, I'm fucked. We don't know where we're going without you. Joel, what's wrong?" Ellie sounded panicked as Joel tried to wave her off. You had no idea what was going on, but Joel didn't look good.

"I said I'm fine." He snapped, looking over his shoulder at Ellie.

"Hey Joel. Just breathe, okay? It'll be fine." You said softly as you reached to gently cup his face in your hands. He watched you for a moment before pulling back, saying it was just the cold air. You and Ellie exchanged glances before the three of you continue your journey, Ellie telling you about the old couple in the cabin, how the woman made them soup - which Ellie had tipped some into the empty thermos for you - and they'd given directions for where to go from here.

"So we just have to find Tommy and the Fireflies. It's easy. All we have to do is cross the river of death." She muttered, a frown twisting her face momentarily as she tried to explain what the couple had said to her and Joel. You listened to her but kept an eye on Joel the whole time, his moment back there had you concerned. You just needed a moment with him to check in without Ellie overhearing.

You walked for hours, the quiet unnerved you slightly. Conversation dwindled as everyone started to get tired. Eventually the sound of running water broke the silence, you'd finally found the river.

"The river of death… scary." Ellie muttered, staring out at the dark water.

"Don't start. It's getting dark, there's some caves across the river we can set up camp in." You nodded in agreement as Ellie muttered about stealing two rabbits as the three of you headed towards the caves.

"Come on, just a bit further and we'll stop there for the night." Joel muttered, leading the two of you over to a cave where you could set up camp for the night. He set to skinning the rabbit and preparing it to eat while you and Ellie set up a sleeping area. Ellie wandered off to find water so everyone could wash up before eating - her muttering about not wanting to eat with the image of Joel's bloody hands in her mind.

"Hey. You okay?" You asked softly, Joel pausing before shrugging a shoulder and continuing cutting the meat into chunks.

"I'm fine." He mumbled, wiping his knife on the grass when he was done. You sat beside him, looking up at him.

"Joel…" You reached to place a hand on his arm, Joel glancing at your arm before looking up at your face.

"I promise. I'm fine." You sighed softly, knowing he wasn't being completely honest, he placed his hand gently over yours though. His thumb gently tracing along yours, you studied his face for a moment as your heart fluttered in your chest. Your moment was interrupted by Ellie coming back.

"How long till dinner? I'm starving." She said as she came back and dropped to sit down, Joel quickly snatching his hand back as you looked up at her.

"Not long." He muttered, moving to put everything into his little camping pan once the fire was hot enough. You caught the way she looked at you both but was glad she didn't say anything.

After dinner, the three of you just sat around the fire as it got dark. Ellie flicking through her book of puns while you went down to the river to wash up. When you came back, she was at the entrance to the cave with her eyes on the sky.

"Look at that."

"Northern Lights." You breathed, looking up as Ellie looked at you in amazement. "C'mon." You grinned and held out a hand to Ellie, leading her around a few rocks to try and climb higher while Joel stayed by the fire.

"Aurora borealis." She muttered, the two of you standing on a high rock as you stared up at the sky in amazement. You chuckled softly.

"You know the fancy term. Do you know how it works?" Ellie shrugged a little.

"Not really, I read about it forever ago but thought it was one of those urban myth things."

"If I remember rightly… it's caused by electrically charged particles entering the Earth's atmosphere at a super high speed. I'm sure there's a proper in-depth explanation but that's all I remember." You chuckled, Ellie looking at you in awe. "I was a bit of a nerd in high school." Ellie laughed as she nudged you lightly.

"Damn. Course I get stuck in an apocalypse with a nerd." You pulled a face at her, glancing down at Joel from the vantage point. Seeing him rummaging through his bag for something. You looked back at saw Ellie looking at you.

"He's talked about you before y'know." She muttered. "I thought he was lying, someone would willingly spend time with his grumpy ass? But you're cool." You smiled softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and hugging her briefly.

"I'm gonna go check on him, you wanna stay here for a bit?" Ellie nodded, waving you off and her attention was back on the sky. You climbed down carefully and headed over to Joel as he pulled some tape from his bag. He glanced up at you as you smiled.

"You gonna tape up the leftovers?" You teased, Joel snorting softly.

"No leftovers, Ellie ate every last bit. My boots got a hole, just gonna tape it till I can find more." You nodded, holding out a hand for the tape.

"Let me help. You should relax." Joel eyed you for a moment, a declining argument on his tongue before he just relented and handed the tape over. You knelt by his feet, taping up the worn boot and making sure it was secure. You worked quietly, feeling Joel's gaze never leaving your face. Once you were satisfied, you patted his calf and handed it back.

"It'll hold for now." Joel thanked you and shoved the tape back in his bag. "I got a little something, hang on." Joel watched you curiously as you dug into your bag and fished out a little hip flask. "It's not as good as the stuff we used to sell at the restaurant but, it'll do." Uncapping it, you took a swallow of the whiskey and offered it over, Joel paused before he took it from you with a thanks. He took a sip then glanced up as he realised Ellie had climbed higher. Joel whistled to get her attention, telling her to get down. Reluctantly she did as she was told, sitting across from you both as Joel took another sip. Ellie watched him, glancing at you then back to him.

"Can I have some?" You chuckled, Joel swallowing and shaking his head.

"No."

"Just to warm up, c'mon." You nudged Joel gently.

"One sip won't hurt her." You grinned, Joel glanced at you then sighed and offered it over. Ellie practically beamed as she took it from him and took a tentative sip. Her face screwed up a little, handing it back pretty quickly.

"Yup. Still gross." You laughed loudly, taking the flask from Joel and having another sip before putting it back in your bag. You leaned back against the rocks behind you, feeling the warmth from the fire on your face as your gaze wandered back to the sky as a quiet settled over the three of you.

"So. I've been thinking, let's say we find the Fireflies, it all works. They draw my blood, put it in their fancy machines and make a cure…" Ellie started, getting both of your attentions again.

"Okay…" Joel replied, curiosity in his tone.

"Then what. What do we do?"

"There's we." He teased and you couldn't help but smile, you loved seeing the playful banter between them even if Joel tried to keep a straight face.

"Okay fine, whatever. You. You can do anything you want. Where are you going, what are you doing?" Joel paused as he thought about it.

"Never been an option. Maybe, an old farmhouse. Some land. A ranch." You looked over at him, you could imagine him doing that. Maybe he'd let you stay with him, pick up where you left off all those years ago.

"Cool. What kind?" Ellie's voice broke your thought bubble.

"Sheep. I would raise sheep. They're quiet, do what they're told." Joel perked one eyebrow slightly, a dig at Ellie again as you laughed.

"Yeah, yeah okay. So just you and a bunch of sheep. Romantic." Ellie glanced at you, you just glanced at your hands.

"What about you? Were you gonna go?" Joel asked, Ellie taking a moment to pick through her thoughts.

"It's probably cause I grew up in the QZ, behind you is the ocean, ahead of you there's a wall. Where else to look but up? I've read everything I could in the school library. Neil Armstrong. Buzz Aldrin. Jim Lovell. You know who my favourite is?"

"Sally Ride." Joel answered without missing a beat, you nodded a little.

"Sally. Fucking. Ride. Best astronaut name ever." Ellie grinned, her eyes on the sky.

"I used to want to be a teacher… maybe I'll find a settlement somewhere. See if they'll have room for a teacher. Domestic bliss sounds nice honestly." Ellie smiled a little, disappearing into her thoughts for a moment. "You good?" You asked, nudging her foot with yours gently. Ellie looked up, studying the two of you for a moment.

"It'll work right? The vaccine." Her voice suddenly sounded so small, nervous.

"It's a little late to start wonderin'." Joel muttered, folding his arms over his chest as he glanced at you then back to Ellie. She pursed her lips a little.

"I tried. With sam." You blinked, watching her.

"Tried what?" You asked gently, leaning forward slightly as her voice sounded so soft.

"I knew he was infected. And I tried to rub some blood into his bite. I know, I know. Stupid but I wanted to save him." You reached out and took one of her hands in your own, gently rubbing your thumb over her knuckles.

"Ellie… I'm sorry." You said softly, Ellie wrinkling her nose like she was on the verge of tears but refused to let them fall.

"I reckon its a lot more complicated than that. Marlene, she's a lot of things but she's no fool. If she says they can do it, they can do it." Joel said, determination in his voice. You nodded a little.

"There's gotta be something to it if they are so determined to get you there and make this cure Ellie. I've heard so many stories about Fireflies but, I've seen their scientific knowledge is strong. They managed to recreate the cancer drugs that helped save Sam. They can do this too." Ellie nodded, squeezing your hand tightly. You smiled at her, shuffling over to hug her against your side. She leaned into you, her cheek against your shoulder.

"You wanna take first watch or second?" She asked Joel after a moment. Joel rolled his shoulders.

"I'll do both. Get some sleep, dream of sheep ranches on the moon."

"Joel…" You said softly, he just shook his head and adjusted how he was sat. You knew he was determined to be the protector. Maybe his moment earlier in the day had shaken him more than he would care to admit.

Eventually you both dozed off, only for you to wake a few hours later when the fire died down. A shiver woke you and you realised your blanket had slipped off. You sat up to find it in the dim light, glancing over to see Joel had fallen asleep. You chuckled to yourself and silently got up, carefully draping your blanket over him as he slept. You couldn't help but admire him for a moment. Even in a shitty world with an impossible task on his hands, the fates had somehow led you back to each other. It seemed so childish to dwell on it but you couldn't help it. You'd fallen hard for Joel so long ago, it was the last time you'd felt good. Being with him in a tiny coffee shop, squeezing into a tiny booth side by side, his hand holding yours as he laughed and told you some silly thing Sarah had done that day. It was so long ago but still so vivid in your mind. You carefully pried his gun from his sleeping hand and draped it over your shoulder, moving to do a quick check around the perimeter before taking a spot by the entrance. You yawned quietly, your hand covering your mouth. You were tired but determined to keep a lookout. There'd been no sign of anyone around here for a while, no tracks other than your own so you weren't too worried. Hearing a noise behind you, you spun around and saw Ellie heading over, rubbing her eyes tiredly. She glanced at Joel and shook her head.

"He's such a stubborn old man." She whispered to you, pulling her hat on her head with a smile. You nodded, leaning against the rocks beside you.

"He just cares. Joel's never been great with expressing himself. Must be a man thing." You joked, Ellie muffling her laugh into her gloves. You glanced over at him, hearing him stir and mutter.

"He does that a lot. Sometimes it's just noises but sometimes he talks." The corners of her mouth tugged downward slightly, you nodded a little.

"Stress can do that. We don't know what Joel went through before he met us." Ellie nodded, wrapping her arms around herself.

"It's been rough but… I am glad I bumped into you both. Got me out of Kathleen's insanity and finding more joy in things." Ellie smiled at you.

"Nerd." She teased but still smiled as she kicked at a stone. You knew she meant well and was clearly happy for more company. "I saw you two earlier. Holding hands." You felt your cheeks flush a little, clearing your throat.

"I was just making sure he was okay after earlier. Besides I hold your hand a lot too." Ellie opened her mouth to say something else but just nodded a little.

"That was scary. What was that?" She asked, her eyes on Joel. You shrugged a little.

"Could be exhaustion. Could be a panic attack. Could genuinely have been the cold. But we'll look after him between us, okay?" You smiled at her, Ellie nodding before glancing at you.

"Can I have the big gun? Joel never lets me hold it." You snorted softly, Ellie was always so quick to change subjects. But you didn't mind.

"Okay but if he asks, I suggested it so he doesn't nag you." She beamed at you as you carefully draped the strap over her small shoulders and showed her how to hold it properly and use the aim.

The two of you kept watch as the sun rose, taking it in turns to check the surrounding areas. You excused yourself to find somewhere to pee once it was light enough to see around yourself properly. Ellie saluting with a grin before you went.

As you came back, you could hear voices. Joel had woken up in a bit of a panic after realising he'd fallen asleep and his gun was gone.

"Wake me up next time." He scolded as he held out a hand for the gun. Ellie handed it over reluctantly.

"But Joel she was…" She paused as she gestured towards you then sighed. "Yes sir." You fastened your jacket back around yourself as you watched Joel.

"C'mon Joel. You need to sleep sometimes as well, I'm not going to just let you do everything yourself. I know that's what you're used to but, you have me here now okay?" You nodded, Joel watching you for a moment before he just nodded.

"We'll have the last of the soup for breakfast then move out." You and Ellie exchanged glances, she rolled her eyes at his grumpy mood and trudged back inside to pack her things away while you helped get the fire started again. Ellie went to get more wood as you looked at him.

"She's a good kid Joel. She means well." Joel grunted in response as you placed a hand on his arm. "I know it's not easy. But have a little faith in her, okay? Between the three of us, we'll be fine." You smiled at him, reaching to gently brush some dirt from his cheek. His eyes flickered to your hand before back to your face, studying you quietly. You pulled away after a moment, not wanting to make him uncomfortable as you finally got the fire started and moved to pack your things away. Completely aware of Joel's eyes watching your every movement, you smiled to yourself as you finished and used your bag as a seat while you poured the small amount of soup into the camping pan to warm up and share out between you. You glanced up, your eyes meeting Joel's over the fire. Something flickered in his eyes, your heart fluttering as those old feelings bubbled back to the surface and almost past your lips. Stopped by Ellie's return, Joel hiding back behind the emotional walls he'd built around himself almost immediately.

The three of you followed the path Joel had mapped out after the couple had pointed it out, Ellie interjecting the silence with questions or her admission she didn't know how to whistle - prompting you to playfully tease her as you whistled a few songs and tried to teach her how to do it. Unsuccessful but it killed time, you could see Joel relax a little, clearly amused by your interactions. After a few hours you came to a dam, one used to conduct electricity if it worked properly.

"Damn." Ellie said, breaking the quiet and making you laugh out loud. She looked proud of herself as she turned to Joel. "So that made electricity?" Joel glanced her out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't ask me, I don't have a clue." Ellie groaned, throwing her hands up as she carried on walking.

"You coulda made something up, I would have believed you." You snorted softly, nudging Joel lightly with a smile as you passed him. "What about you? Do you know?" You shook your head.

"I don't know. Witchcraft?" You teased, laughing as Ellie just huffed about neither of you being helpful. You glanced back, catching a hint of a smile on Joel's face that warmed your heart. You got closer to the goal, pausing by the river - Ellie insisting on calling it the river of death again as the three of you hid behind a small mound for a moment to look for any signs of life. Joel fired off a shot to see if there was any response.

"For the river of death, it's pretty quiet." She muttered, Joel shaking his head before the three of you headed out into the open land. You were so close now, you only hoped you'd find Tommy and he would help you get Ellie to the Fireflies. The peace was broken by a rumble, Joel instinctively reaching out an arm to put you and Ellie behind him. Your hand instinctively went to your gun as people on horses surrounded you, your heart hammered in your chest as Joel spoke with them. A man ordered you and Ellie to step away and separate. Joel hesitated before telling you to do as they said, that it would be fine. You nodded, squeezing Ellie's hand before stepping away. You looked around at the group, their faces all hidden and guns trained on all three of you. You didn't escape Kathleen or the hoard of infected to be shot dead by some wannabe bandits. Joel tried to reason with them as a man stepped forward with a dog, the apparent leader explaining how she was trained to sniff out infection and how she'd rip any of you apart if she smelt it. Fear crawled up your spine as you thought about Ellie's immunity and the bite hidden on her arm. She may be immune but maybe the infection just lay dormant in her system. The dog sniffed at Joel then moved to you, sniffing at you before growling and heading to Ellie. Your eyes glued to the girl as she glanced at you then the dog. With your hands up, there was no chance of snatching up your gun and protecting her. You held your breath as the dog sniffed at Ellie before welcoming her with a lick to her fingers, Ellie giggling at the feeling before crouching down to pet the dog confidently. You exhaled slowly, glancing at Joel before looking back at the man that spoke. A woman came through a small opening in the group, eyeing Joel as she asked his name. There was something in her eyes as he gave his answer, she turned to the man beside her and said something in his ear. Reluctantly he called everyone to lower their weapons, making a few of them double up so Joel could ride a horse then you and Ellie could ride another. You sat her in front of you, your hands holding the reins and keeping her close.

"That was close." You whispered in her ear once you all got moving.

"Yeah but we don't know what happens now. She seemed to know Joel. Did you see her reaction to him?" You hummed in agreement.

"I got you. Don't worry." You muttered, Ellie leaning back into you in agreement.

The ride was pretty quiet, Ellie unnaturally quiet as she took in her surroundings and took note of everything going on. She was young but experience had made her wise beyond her years at times. You almost envied her sometimes. You were taken to a huge gate, the woman who'd spoken got someone to open it and you were led inside. To a whole town hidden behind these enormous walls. You breathed out, in awe of this little wonderland sprawling before you. Houses, shops, restaurants and all sorts. Kids playing in the snow, families walking around, friends chatting and enjoying the day. It was like a haven that the virus hadn't managed to get to. People were working together, existing peacefully and content with their little home here.

"This is incredible." You muttered, feeling eyes on the three of you as you rode through town. Ellie nodded quietly, the group pausing momentarily.

"Tommy!!" Joel suddenly yelled out, a man a few feet away on some scaffolding stiffening before turning and spotting Joel. Joel slid off of his horse as Tommy came over instantly, the two brothers embracing tightly. Joel laughing a little as tears shone in his eyes at the joy of finally seeing his brother. The men looked at each other before embracing again. Ellie glanced over her shoulder at you as you smiled softly.

"We found him. Side quest complete." You muttered to her before sliding off of the horse from behind her. Joel glanced over as he heard the snow crunch, Tommy following his gaze before he laughed.

"No fucking way." You grinned as you approached.

"Funny, that's exactly what I said when I first saw Joel a few weeks back." You laughed and wrapped the man up in a tight hug. Tommy shook his head as he patted your back, pulling away after a moment.

"C'mon, let's go get you three fed."

The restaurant was lovely. Reminiscent of a log cabin in it's decor and wooden walls, it had a warm atmosphere and the smell of food made your stomach growl instantly. You followed Tommy and the woman from earlier - after introducing her as Maria - to a table, she asked one of the girls working there to get food for the three of you.

"How do we pay for this?" You asked suddenly, Tommy chuckling.

"Call it a welcome gift." He grinned as he sat back in his seat. You nodded a little, glancing around. It felt surreal to be in a restaurant with Joel and Tommy Miller, like the world hadn't changed. Except it was Ellie between you and Joel instead of Sarah. Tommy explained to Maria about how you had met him and Joel, working every shift ever and constantly looking after them like they were royalty.

"Man I lost track of how many freebies you'd sneak us or how you'd use your staff discount when no one was lookin'." You grinned and shrugged.

"You guys became some of my best friends! How could I not treat you well?" You grinned, Tommy just giving a playful smirk - choosing to omit the details of you and Joel going on dates or the cupcakes you made. When the food came, silence fell over the table as you all ate like starving prisoners. It was so nice to have a home cooked meal, which Ellie exclaimed - Joel scolding her to mind her manners. Ellie looked up and over your shoulder, seemingly spotting someone as she yelled out to them.

"She's was just curious. Kids around here don't look or talk like you." Maria said softly. Ellie just shrugged.

"Maybe I'll teach em." She bit back, you could see Joel was rubbing off on her - instantly defensive when she felt on edge. You nudged her under the table with your foot, she glanced at you with a 'what?' expression before turning back to Maria. "And I want my gun back."

"They also aren't armed." Maria answered softly. Tommy cleared his throat a little.

"Y'know I think y'all got off a little on the wrong foot." He said, glancing between the three of you.

"She was gonna have her guys kill us." Ellie scowled, you swallowed and said her name softly to try and get her to calm down.

"We gotta be real careful about who we let in this place. But it's all bark, we just wanna scare off those who might try us is all." Tommy explained, hoping to keep the peace. You nodded in understanding as you put your fork down for now, sipping your tea.

"Well you got a couple of ninty year olds out there shitting themselves."

"Ellie." Joel scolded.

"They said you leave dead bodies around." You sighed softly, pinching the bridge of your nose after shooting Maria and apologetic look, Joel constantly trying to keep the peace.

"Those are the people who tried us." Maria answered, still calm and level as always.

"A bad reputation doesn't mean you're bad." Tommy added.

"Not always at least." Maria interjected, shooting a look at Joel that had you feeling irritated now. You put your cup down and fixed her with a look, opening your mouth to say something when Joel stepped in.

"Ma'am. We're grateful for your hospital and all, but it'd be nice to have a moment here just for family." Joel replied, you exhaled slowly as you swallowed back the comment on the tip of your tongue, Tommy shifting in his seat as he slid his hand into Maria's.

"Well. Maria is family actually." He replied as you spotted the small wedding band on her finger.

"Oh shit. Congrats." Ellie said, Joel just staring at his brother with an unreadable expression on his face. You congratulated them as well before Ellie stared at Joel.

"Joel. Say congrats." She hissed, Joel frowning for a moment before nodding once.

"Congrats." The couple shared a look before Tommy forced a smile.

"How about a tour?" He suggested to break the tension, you nodded in agreement as you pushed your empty plate aside.

"That sounds wonderful. Thank you." You said softly, wiping your mouth before leaning back in your seat. Ellie glanced at you while Joel still stared at Tommy with that unreadable expression still on his face. You exhaled slowly, excusing yourself to use the bathroom before you left. It felt weird. This little safe space, the relaxed atmosphere of everyone around you, how Joel had gone from emotionally ecstatic at finding Tommy to cold and unreadable so fast. You took a moment in the bathroom to splash some water on your face and have a second to yourself before rejoining the table. You stacked the empty plates together and tided the table out of habit, glancing up when you felt eyes on you.

"Old habits really do die hard, huh?" Tommy teased with a laugh as you chuckled and realised what you'd done.

"When you worked in the food industry as long as I did, you can't not do the little things to make other servers' jobs easier." The little joke seemed to ease the tension slightly as everyone gathered their things and headed out. Tommy and Maria showed you around, pointing out the different buildings and how they kept everything running. The dam helped give them power and hot water. Your eyes lit up at the mention, the dream of a hot shower had almost died months ago when the hot water had been shut off in the city. They explained how everything worked as you walked towards a little holding, Ellie's face lighting up when a flock of sheep trotted past in a field beside you.

"Hey look Joel!" She grinned over her shoulder at him, imitating the noises the sheep made as they ran past. Maria led you to the stables, introducing Ellie to the newest horse, Shimmer. She cooed over the horse as Joel and Tommy stood back, you glanced over at them - your gaze lingering on Joel to check in before looking back at Ellie. Maria suggested she show you and Ellie around a little more so the men could catch up. Tommy agreed and led Joel away.

"Ellie, best behaviour." He warned, glancing at you. "You'll be okay?" You waved a hand, smiling at him.

"I think we'll be fine. Go." Joel nodded, watching you before turning to follow Tommy. Maria had a questioning look on her face once you turned your attention back to her but she never said anything, instead showed you both around a little more. Introducing you both to the stable hands, showing you the pigs and a little fat barn cat that was lounging on a haybale. After walking around for a while, Maria offered to take you both back to hers for a tea and a shower. You agreed, Ellie shooting you a look before just shrugging and following you both.

(Part Three)

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #tlou #joel and ellie #ellie williams #ellie tlou #joel tlou #no use of y/n #joel miller x you #soft!Joel

28 notes · View notes

potter-puff007 · 2 years

Text

The Night the Hammer was Dropped

Summary: Thor is wanting to surprise you with a snowcapped getaway for some uncapped fun.

Warnings: Smut; 18+ ONLY Minors DNI; Sexual Language; Fake Dating.

Are you almost ready to go Y/N? Thor is very anxious about taking you on this trip up to the mountains for a wintery getaway. Yes I am almost ready to go, you say in excitement because you have no idea where you are going on this trip; He is being very secretive to the point of blind folding you on the way. Ok, I am ready—let’s go! Wait one moment my queen, said Thor with the upmost serious look on his face, what are you supposed to address me by now that we are leaving for our trip? You look at Thor with hesitation, I am sorry let’s go my sex king. You were so embarrassed to call him that, but he insisted on it, so you go along with his silly games. That is right my love slave, he said with such a confidence that it was sickening. You get in the car to head to the mysterious location for your getaway and before you can say anything he puts the blindfold over your eyes. Do we have to do the blindfold… seriously? Yes Y/N we do. I want it to be a surprise where we are going. You comply with the blindfold, and you start moving. You had been driving for over an hour and start to get curious and take the blindfold down just for a peak and Thor catches you peaking. He takes the blindfold and pushes it back up on your face and next thing you know he is pulling over. Why are you pulling over, you ask in curiosity. I am pulling over to take care of your nosey intentions. He then pulls out handcuffs and cuffs my hands to the handle on the door. So, I just sit there waiting to be at our location and then about twenty minutes later the car comes to a complete stop again. Why are we stopping now Thor? We have made it to our destination. He was so excited, but tried his best not to show it because he doesn’t want to hurt his image. He takes off the blindfold and you start to look around and see this beautiful scenery you never imagined would be real. There was this breathtaking snowcapped mountain in the background and a cabin sitting right in the middle of it covered in a blanket of snow itself. It was perfect! You get out of the car and start looking around at all the marvelous wonders and Thor comes to you and starts leading you inside. The cabin is nothing of what you expected. It was larger in size on the inside than the outside and had a beautiful lofted overlook staircase with a cozy little family room with fireplace in the center of the room. My love slave head to the upstairs area and look at our bedroom, said Thor awaiting your reaction to what surprise was waiting. You walk in and the room is very cozy with a wood log bed and to the side of the room there is a huge bay window overlooking the mountains and the snow falling. You thought “at this point how could he top that” you turn around and see rose petals all over the room spelling out your name Y/N and a full bath already run for you with bath salts and petals in the tub and soft music playing in the background. What do you think my love, said Thor with hopeful eyes. I love it Thor it is perfect! You literally thought of every little detail thank you for this trip, you said with such excitement. You were both exhausted from the drive up and decided to take your bath and go to bed for the evening. The next morning arrives and you look out the window and to your demise there is snow completely covering half the house. You are snowed-in!! You start to panic some “what will we do; we are trapped in this cabin; how are we going to get out” You start to calm down and look over and Thor is nowhere to be found. Wondering where he is, you head downstairs looking for him and he was downstairs fixing the fire and smelled as if he was making breakfast. Y/N did you sleep well, Thor asked you as you came down the stairs. Yes, but did you happen to look outside? Yes I seen that we are snowed-in today. How convenient is that, Thor said with a very mysterious look on his face. You thought, “what is he up to?” You go in to start eating breakfast and you look over and see Thor bent down putting firewood in the fireplace to get it started. The fire was already going and the warmth of the fire was casting a glaze look on Thor’s chiseled physique. You started to get a little warm, but was it the fire or Thor’s unbridled body calling your name. Thor sees you checking him out and gives you a look, are you enjoying the few my love slave, he says with the deepest sound to his voice like he had lowered it on purpose to make you want him more. Yes, I am enjoying the view are you enjoying yours? He looked over at you and saw you sitting on the counter with your legs twisted in a way where he could barely see your pussy peaking through. I am definitely enjoying my view; I would enjoy it more if you would spread those flood gates Y/N. You start to blush a little from what he said and he starts to walk towards you. I have an idea, says Thor. What could that be, you say wondering what he could be wanting to do. Have you ever played strip twister? You look confused as to what he is talking about so, you ask him to explain further. Strip twister is like regular twister, but the only difference is whenever someone causes you to fall and lose the game an article of clothing has to be taken off. Whoever loses all their clothes first has to give themselves up. So, you want to play, Thor asks with a look of anticipation hoping you will say yes. Ok, I will give a try, but don’t feel bad if you lose, you say with a little bit of a competitive edge in your voice. Believe me I wont feel bad when you lose. You start playing and whenever your right leg has to go on green you fall. Ok, my love slave you have to take off clothing, but the catch is I get to choose and take it off for you! Thor was excited about this part. So, he starts to remove your pants first very slowly. A few rounds later and you are completely naked. Guess what that means Y/N, says Thor with a very mischievous look on his face. I believe I know; so go ahead and take me. He comes towards you and grabs your waist pulling you in very tight to his waist. You feel a hardness that goes from waist to thigh. You are awfully happy to see me, you say. I will be even happier inside you, says Thor as he throws you on the couch. He starts caressing your breasts ever so slightly and goes slowly down your torso to your pussy. He starts chasing his fingers through your pussy lips getting you on the rise. You start to get excited and as he notices, he starts to push even harder. Thor, please don’t. He keeps going and you start to moan out his name. What are you supposed to call me, he says with a stern look on his face and you say my sex king. So, you start to moan, oh my sex king don’t stop. He proceeds to pick you up off the couch and gently lay you on a soft cozy blanket on the floor facing the fireplace. He covers you and himself in the blanket to bring you closer together. You start to grab his dick and he stops you. You are not worthy to just grab a hammer that does not belong to you, he says with confidence. You look him in the eye with a seductive stare and say, you want to know how worthy I am, then give me the hammer and I will show you. He lays over on his back and you climb on top of him to show him the proper way to nail someone. You start thrusting back and forth and he starts to enjoy himself. He looks at you with this hungry look in his eyes like this is not enough for me. He throws you off him and says, you are not worthy of my dick, but I am worthy of your pussy. So, he throws you up against the wall and starts pounding you and harder he goes the more his muscles contract showing off his physique. You start to moan louder and louder the faster and harder he goes. I am going to cum my sex king, you yell out to him. Then cum for me my love slave, Thor says with the most seductive sound to his voice, which makes you melt in his arms further. You are at your climax and you both release at the same time. After the release you both fall to the floor in exhaustion and pleasure. Did you enjoy that nailing you got my love slave, he asked with a smirk on his face. Yes I did enjoy it, you said with a smile. If you enjoyed that nailing wait until later the Hammer will nail you again. You laugh and look forward to the evening…

I hope you like this post!! There could possibly be another part in the works...

#thor #thor odinson #thor smut #thor x reader #thor x yn #thor x reader smut #thor x yn smut #@sailorholly #@simplyholl

72 notes · View notes

magicxc · 11 months

Text

Hills and Valleys

Synopsis: Legend has it that Halloween is strictly for the scares. With ghouls and goblins, vampires and werewolves, witches and broomsticks, who could disagree?

However, all this friend group wanted was a little trick or treat. Sprinkle in a few party favors, loud music and a cabin in the woods, the myth was bound to come true.

Lurking around the corner is danger like never before, eager to bring this night to a bloody finish.

So join these friends as they fight to make it through a Hallween they’ll never forget.

Word Count: 3506

Warnings: murdaaaa, tha big reveal

Chapter 6 - Jasons POV

A/N: this is legit like my 5th attempt at uploading this damn fic. From the warnings to the word count to the moodboard to the story all the way down to the fucking tagsssss 😩 I am TIRED. Almost turned my phone into jello over Dumblr. So please, enjoy; cause tears def went into this.

Series Masterlist

“What’s with the scrutiny all of a sudden?” Emery challenged. “You know I could say the same for you Jason, the same for all of us really; cause where was anyone when our friends were fighting for their lives?” she sniffled. “All we have to do is sit here til sunrise and we can’t even do that.”

As annoying as I find Emery, she made a decent point. Where was I? Where was anyone and how did this manage to happen unheard? Do I actually believe Lorenzo did it? Not really. He’s lost arguably the two closest people in his friend group, cradling Stephanie in his arms for God knows how long. For a second I almost believed he’d break through the window if it meant he could reach out and hold Julianna much the same; his behaviour eerily composed, reminding me of the calm before the storm - and what a shit storm it’s turned out to be.

Serving in the military, I was taught to survive in extreme atmospheric conditions; training to fight in places as scorching as the desert and as icy as the snow. Our exercises also saw us in unsturdy places such as the choppy currents of the water, arms linked together as we floated on the surface for hours. The sky was no exception either, learning to parachute from altitudes so high the air was all but limited. It wasn’t my dream to fight for this country but, life happens. And while it did come with its perks, I wouldn’t recommend any sane person to join. I’ve scraped so many bodies off the battlefield and sent so many others to meet their maker, I’ve become somewhat desensitized to death - learning to keep calm during the most chaotic and life threatening moments because it’s only then that I was able to live to tell the tale. And that’s what I’ve been attempting since we all found ourselves locked in this place - surviving, lending out my experience to the team who quite frankly doesn't deserve it at this point. All I can do is stay calm long enough to see this night through.

“I think we should waterboard the fucker.”

And here the fuck we go. I’ve never pegged Lynn for such a firecracker but I get it. After all, this night is drawing all sorts of emotions from people: showing our true colors when the universe dangles something so priceless before us.

It's been said that about 1800 people have jumped from the golden gate bridge, yet only 35 have survived the fall. And each person that’s survived has explicitly stated that they regretted jumping halfway through the fall, realising, in the face of imminent danger, just how solvable all their problems seemed. Much like tonight, in what happened to be a party gone horribly wrong, recovering bodies littered around the house like candies during an easter egg hunt, only then do you realise how desperately you want to live. Many people are familiar with the term fight or flight, but what goes most overlooked is a secret third thing - fear. Fear so intense it freezes you to one spot like a deer in headlights, too afraid to move from the oncoming beams of tragedy. But another emotion fear pulls from us is survival, an emotion so fierce that you’d find yourself doing just about anything to have it; even going as far as to commit interrogation tactics of torture.

“Exactly which fucker are you referring to?” Emery questioned.

“Whoever the fucker is responsible for this mess.”

“Go ahead and point them out for us since you know every damn thing.”

They’re on their own with this one. I can't deal with the bickering. I'm used to organized and thought provoking responses in such situations; my irritation rising the more it sinks in just how wet they are behind the ears.

“Lorenzo, you’re one more insult away from me socking you in the face.”

“Whatever Lynn, what you should hit is the books you dumbass,” he retorts.

Throwing her shoe at him, it just barely misses his face; Emery stepping in to call them both childish.

“So help me God if you don’t get your shit together, I’m gonna whoop you like your parents should have.”

“Fuck you Lenny, at least my parents were active enough in my life not to let me get raised by the help.”

“Parent,” Lorenzo enunciated. “Had your dad been able to afford the help, maybe your mom would’ve stuck around you motherless bitch.”

Well shit.

“Jason, do something!”

“Right, uhhh all shoes in the middle of the floor,” I instructed.

“Asshole.”

I don’t know why Emery insists on calling me out. Everyone, despite tonight’s circumstances, in this room is responsible for their own actions. Yet she expects me to jump in the middle of their bullshit every time. I don't know what kind of savior complex they have going on, but I won’t be a part of it. I barely want to be with sugar at this point.

“Lenny you motherfucker, two parents plus the help and yet no one taught you what it means to have common decency; no wonder women can’t wait to get rid of you.”

“Well if it isn’t the whore of Babylon here to teach us a lesson about keeping partners. Tell you what, you teach me how to keep a woman and I’ll teach you how to get rid of the clap.”

“Sex shaming is not cool,” Emery criticized.

“And neither is half the things that's been flapping past Lynn's lying ass lips,” Lorenzo retorted. “If you’re gonna be biased, do so from the corner of the room, cause you’re at about arms length right now and that’s not good for you.

“Would you seriously hit me?” she ridiculed.

I would.

“Are you surprised Em, this is the same piece of shit who yanked Julez arm so hard, it left bruises.”

“You dramatic whore, no the fuck I did not.”

“And that was in front of an entire crowd, who knows what you’re capable of behind closed doors huh? Drowning? Slicing?”

“Sounds like you’re in the mood to find out.”

“Tell me their last words to you as you watched them fight for their lives you piece of shit.”

“YOU GUYS PLEASE.”

Oh my God.

“Shut your mouth Lynn.”

“Tell me every horrifying detail about what fucked you up so bad that you’d turn on your own friends in such a way.”

“I won't ask you again.”

“Steph probably begged you to finish her off didn’t she? Eager to get the hell away from you and your perverted advances.”

For a big guy, Lorenzo’s pretty damn swift. Maybe it’s because all those drinks are still sloshing around in my bloodstream but my cat like senses wasn’t quick enough to catch him.

Angrily lunging toward Lynn his hands are tightly wrapped around her throat, arms trembling from the forceful hold. Beads of sweat drip down his forehead, while spittled foam gathers at the corners of his mouth. Blinking away tears, thick veins line the surface of his neck, incoherent mumbling tumbling past his lips.

Sugar desperately beats at his arms, struggling for air he refuses to give her and my anger shoots through the roof, their foolishness pissing me off for the final time. It takes both me and Emery to tear Lorenzo away from sugar, his grip firm and unrelenting. For a second I feared that he actually intended to kill her. Once we finally manage to drag him away, it takes me putting my full weight on this man, using one of my hand to hand combat moves to lock him into place.

Pinned beneath me, I scream to Emery to grab anything strong enough to tie his arms together. She brings me back one of the kitchen towels and I roll us sideways so that she can wrap it around his hands.

“I - I can't do it, he won’t stop thrashing his arms.”

“For fucksake Emery TRY, there’s only so much I can do right now.

With lots of wiggling and flailing, Emery manages a decent enough knot for me to turn him over and reinforce it. Sugar finally catches her breath before storming into the kitchen.

We sit Lorenzo in a chair while Emery tries to coax him into comfort. Standing up, he head butts me in the face, my nose immediately leaking blood from the impact. My fist returns the favor, knocking him back into the chair. Emery harshly tugs on my elbow, begging me to stop, and it takes everything in me to do just that because this fight was about to turn real unfair, real quick.

Dragging my arm across my face, I look about the room for anything to tie down his legs to the chair, coming up with some loose cloth, which undoubtedly was a part of someone’s costume.

“Fuck all of you,” Lorenzo screams.

“No Lenny, fuck you,” sugar screeched, thumping back to the room; a pitcher full of water cradled between her hands.

“Woah, woah, woah LYNNLEY. Are you fucking serious?”

“As a heart attack.”

“This is Lenny, the same Lenny we’ve known since middle school.”

“People change Em and I'm about to show you just how much.”

“Sugar, maybe we should-“

“Shut up, all of you.”

“I know there’s been a lot said tonight, some things in particular we can never take back,” Lorenzo sighed. “And I know tensions are high right now, but are they so high that you’d all sit there and watch me die.”

“Lorenzo, no one’s gonna kill anyone man.”

“It’s WATERBOARDING, you of all people should know that it can very well get fatal.”

“Enough of this.”

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, she pulls his head back, pouring enough water on him to drench his clothes, before being snatched away by Emery.

It's not nearly enough to kill him, but it does make for some discomfort, much like accidentally snorting a noseful of water once you dive inside a swimming pool. It burns but that's about it.

Coughing through his discomfort, I listen as sugar and Emery go back and forth over the severity of it all; and I briefly contemplate killing myself if it means that I won't have to deal with their nonsense. I honestly don't know if I can make it to sunrise like this and by the looks of it, neither will they.

Their bickering finally subsides, them agreeing only to question the man and nothing more. Of course Lorenzo detests it, that for no other reason than a hunch he’s guilty and lowkey he’s right. But then again, I'm not inserting myself into their madness. They’ve made it this far in this fucked up friend circle, they can make it the rest of the night.

“So lemme get this straight, you went upstairs to find cell signal and somehow found yourself next to a knife stricken Steph?”

“Lynn, ask your damn question.”

“How did you end up there and why?”

“My phone fell out of the window and I was looking for someone elses to use. It just so happened that Steph was the first person I found.”

“I think we should stop asking who may have done it, but why?” Emery proposed. “I feel like if we can figure out who had motive, we can narrow it down.”

“Well this is a pretty fucked up way to narrow things down. I'm literally tied to a chair.”

“That's because you choked me.”

“And I’ll do it again, you’ve been out of pocket since this whole thing started. How do we know you’re not the killer huh?

“Because I’m holding back from killing you now,” she shrieks.

Spitting, the thick glob lands directly on her chest, sugar all but emptying the contents of the pitcher onto his face; angrily clomping back into the kitchen to no doubt fill it again, but not before slapping him across the cheek.

Wet and stinging, that's quite the combination. I fear this has gone on long enough and it's only escalating. As much as I wanted to stay out of it, I think I better intervene.

Following sugar into the kitchen, I try to talk her out of this crazed state, her dazed pupils letting me know that she’s too far gone for reason. Pushing past me, she heads back into the living room where we see Emery struggling to untie the knots off Lorenzo, his violent coughing trying to dislodge the water that seeped into his lungs.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

“The hell does it look like I'm doing Lynn, this is mad and it needs to stop now.”

“Not until I get some answers.”

“People who talk, talk after their first contact with water,” I bargained. “And he’s not talking.”

“All that means is we have to get him talking then.”

“OR, it means he didn’t do it. You pour a bucket of water over someone’s nose and they’ll tell you whatever you want to hear if it means you’ll stop.”

“And yet you did it anyway,” she glared.

“There was a time where I would’ve died for all of you. I found a family in you guys and it filled a void I didn’t even know I had. And in one night, one measly fucking night I lose it all,” Lorenzo whimpered. “My best friend gets murdered without us ever properly mending things between us. I had to watch the love of my life die in my arms. And now, my other friend is actively trying to kill me, disregarding our decade long friendship all in the name of anger.

“Lorenzo, you did this to yourself!”

“LYNN, how fucking cruel can you be?”

“It’s alright Em, I’ve been known to be a bit of an asshole, though I’d like to think I meant well,” he bitterly chuckled, snot trickling down his nose. “Do me a favor and survive this fucked up night, cause God only knows who Lynn will turn on next. Not to mention that fucker over there,” he says, head nodding toward me. “Ain't it a little odd how all of this starts happening the moment he shows up? Yet I'm the one you helped him strap down to a chair. They ask what would you do for a klondike bar, but you better start asking what would Lynn do for a piece of dick, cause apparently it’s kill for it.”

“Lorenzo, I'm actually on your side. The only reason you’re even tied to that chair is because you attacked two people in this room,” I defended.

“And what's the reason I'm being waterboarded huh? Who weaseled that thought in her mind? You say you fight for your country? Motherfucker you can't even fight for the people in this room, but you like what’s happening huh?

“Not at all man.”

“We get it, I'm a dumb hoe, but you’re about to be a dead one if you don’t fess up.”

“And then what? You’ll let me go free?”

“Jason, please help me untie him,” Emery pleaded.

“Em don’t you fucking dare.”

Lunging toward her, hands get tangled into hair and nails get scratched into skin before I can get between them. It takes more strength than I care to give to hold Emery back, both she and sugar throwing around insults.

“Lynn I swear, you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Lorenzo taunted. “YOU ARE THE CUM SHOT YOUR MOTHER SHOULDVE SWALLOWED. It would’ve saved your dad a lifetime of headaches and your mother the embarassm-“

Lorenzo’s words get cut off by the splashing of water, his gurgling noises buried under the guzzling of the pitcher. Emery goes wild, hitting my chest repeatedly and I toss her to the ground, jetting over to the scene behind me. Slapping the pitcher from Lynn’s hands, it's on the verge of empty, nothing but a trickle left inside as it splatters to the floor.

Lorenzo’s body furiously thrashes around, his chest caved in and head hung over with water spluttering from his mouth in an attempt to rid it from his body.

“Shit, Lynnley what the fuck did you do,” I screamed.

Emery is struggling to undo the knots, but all she’s doing is pulling them tighter together. I race over and lean the chair forward, hoping for gravity to expel some of the water from his airway, his body jerking about minorly.

“Why are you just standing there, find something to cut him loose.”

Scrambling into the kitchen, I hear dishes clinking and slamming together before Lynn comes running out with a knife, slicing through the cloth as best she can. The kitchen towel, since it was the thickest, took the longest and by the time we got him out the chair and on the floor, his fits has ceased.

Getting into position, I lock my hands together and press down on his chest, 30 times just like we did in training.

“Emery, once I count to 30 I need you to tip his head back and blow two big breaths into his mouth okay.”

“And what do I do?”

“Stay the fuck over there, I doubt he’d want your help at this point,” Emery yelled.

We do five sets of 30 compressions. The CPR forces out some of the water but Lorenzo is still unconscious.

“Why isn’t it working?” Emery wails.

“Em-“

“Why are you stopping, keep going.”

“Stop.”

Pushing against my chest, Emery restarts CPR.

“The lungs are about 9 inches in height, that's a little under a foot.”

“Nobody cares, just fucking help me.”

“The pitcher that Lynn poured over his face looked to be about 64 ounces and she did it twice. That was enough water to fill his lungs three times over.”

“We can do it, I know we can,” she croaked.

“There's no amount of CPR that can expel that much water. And his lungs are so heavy they’re actively swelling as we speak.”

“We won’t know unless we try Jason, you get the mouth and I’ll get the chest.”

“Blowing air into his already expanding lungs won't help Emery.”

“Am I supposed to just watch him die then?” she chided. “Isn’t there a way to drain it?”

“I'm no doctor and neither do we have the tools or the sterile space to do that.”

“Fuck a sterile space!”

“Not only would you infect him but stabbing anything in his chest to ‘drain it’ will only make him bleed out. We would need a very specific and precise needle.”

“No, we can do it,” she answered, starting the compressions again.

The splattering of liquids on the floor lets me know that Lynn has just emptied the contents of her stomach, but I'm in no mood to comfort.

“The body works in 3’s. Three days without water, three weeks without food, and three minutes without air. It’s been about seven now.”

“Shut up.”

“Lorenzo’s lungs are so heavy they’ve probably detached from his windpipe. That, coupled with no oxygen to his brain…at least he was unconscious before it happened.

“Jason either you help me or you leave,” Emery threatened, fat teardrops rolling down her face in droves.

There’s five stages of grief and they’re at the first one. Back against the furniture, I hold my head in my hands, listening to sugars light whimpers and Emery's ragged breathing.

She tires herself out with compressions, fists flying to his chest, pleading for him to wake up. Hands clutched over her ears, sugar rocks back and forth, mumbling out apologies, expletives, and frustrations; guilt no doubt eating her alive.

Hands dropping to my pocket, I rummage around for anything I can chew on, ready to get out of here and never see these people again. Fingers slipping free with the peppermint goodness, I unwrap it and pop it in my mouth.

Some minutes pass by, how many I don't know and the night grows quiet. As tragic as it’s been for everyone, this minute's peace brings about a small sense of tranquility. There’s the occasional sniffle and I watch as the sky transitions from pitch black to a pale pink, the telltale sign of the sun about to rise.

“At least his parents will be home soon right?” sugar questions.

“Yep, right in time enough to see their only son sprawled out on the floor and his friends scattered across the property. So much for the new owners, their home just turned into a crime scene.”

“Do you have any more gum?” Emery asked, voice sore from crying.

Tossing it in her direction, she catches it, face upturned once she removes the wrapper.

“Eww, Jason what the fuck, who the hell buys brown gum? What kind of flavor even is this?”

“It's peppermint,” I answered, popping a bubble.

“Still weird, I haven’t seen this shit since-“

The words die on her tongue. She looks up to me, revelation fresh on her features, which slowly etches into panic, as a sinister grin makes its way onto mine.

#Emmy Writes #Emmy Tries #Halloween Kills #Halloween Series #Halloween #Hills and Valleys #Original Story and Characters #Horror #the big fucking reveal #did you guess it right?#have you known all along?#tell me your thoughts

13 notes · View notes

calamity-aims · 1 year

Text

high mountain gothic

(I wanted to try to write one of those gothic posts that people keep making, so this is all based on my experience haha. All respects to Daniel Lavery (formerly Mallory Ortberg of the Toast)

These Harsh Winters Have Shaped Our Souls In A Way Those Soft Tourists Could Never Hope To Understand

They Dredged The Lake For A Lost Kayaker And Found Four Bodies Wearing Concrete Shoes Instead

Careful Looking Up At Night - The Sight Of the Milky Way Can Induce A Deep Existential Crisis

We’ll Have To Wait For The Snow To Melt To Recover The Bodies

There Are Only Two Seasons: Nine Months Of Winter And Three Months Of Road Construction

In The Summer The Water Is So Cold It’ll Kill You; In The Winter The Air Is So Cold It’ll Kill You; The People Are So Cold They’d Kill You Anytime

The Video Store Remains

Keep Active - Don’t Stay Still For Even A Minute, Lest You Start To Feel An Emotion

How Is It That Bears Hibernate But We Must Experience Every Waking Day

The Lake Has Claimed Another Victim. The Mountain Has Claimed Another Victim. The Highway Has Claimed Another Victim.

Well The Roadside Motel Blew Up On Account Of The Meth Lab

Best Not To Go Hiking Alone In The Desolation, They Say Those That Do Never Come Back Quite Right

Sometimes The Eerie Howl Of The Coyotes Is All You Can Hear, Echoing Endlessly In Your Eardrums. Join Them. Join Them. Run Slavering Through The Forest And Live Forever

The Family What Built This Log Cabin All Died Tragic Deaths But What A Cute Museum It Makes

Maybe There’s A Reason The Native Americans Didn’t Live Here Full-Time

The Almighty Snowplow Shall Decide Your Fate

Are Those Avalanche Cannons, Gunshots, Or Did The Denny’s Explode Again

Death At The Ski Resort

The Finest Meal To Be Had Is The Steak At Sizzler’s, Unless You’re Too Good For It

Brisk 10 Mile Hikes Are The Only Therapy Anyone Needs In This Town

Look Ma I Found A Machete!

The Lake Doesn’t Have A Monster, Silly; It Has A Layer Of Perfectly Preserved Corpses Floating In The Freezing Depths, And Isn’t That Scarier?

Wildfire Will Take Us All, One Day

Stay Out Of The Abandoned Mines, Says The Radio. Stay Out, Stay Alive.

#high mountain gothic #location gothic #cw death #cw corpses #calamity writing

26 notes · View notes

noelle666 · 6 months

Text

Ship/Kiss Challenge - Aloth Corfiser/femWatcher (pale elf)

Original post with all options

15. ... passionately

Note - I am not fluent at any type of English dialects (which could be a solution for Iselmyr's speech), so she will speak, well, normally. But I'll try something anyway (try to use all the info I can get about Hylspeak too).

Note 2 - yes, all my female characters have a name "Noelle" and they all have the same temper but may have different appearance.

Note 3 - There might be some spoilers and some OOC.

"Oi, lad, yer thinkin' too loud, y cannot sleep. Stop it. Ye only do is thinkin' an' thinkin'. Where's the action?"

"When the proper moment comes. When I am ready!"

"Ye never be ready, lad, covered with all the books ye have. That lass is waiting for ye. Get yer arse up and go to her cabin. Now!"

"She is probably sleeping already".

"Ye know she's not, ye can see a light. And ye know she, for sure, is busy with somethin'. Prolly with some scrolls or notes. Ye two bookworms! I'm surprised one of ye was initiative enough (and, course, 'twas her. She's braver than ye!)"

"Stop. Right. Now!"

Aloth was lying on a bed within a belly of a ship which was swinging steadily on the waves. His mind was swallowed by thoughts about one person - about The Watcher, the young woman who, it seems, found a key to his heart. Her white hair, the colour so pure even the clearest snow can be envious, her grey eyes, her pale skin which sometimes looked like a pearl when sunlight gently touched her face... It was difficult not to look at this precious being when she was near. And even harder not to embrace her, to touch her and...

The elf shaked his head to get rid of innapropriate (as he thought) ideas but the other soul within him grabbed this thin thread and starded pushing him towards expressing feelings and making real actions. Otherwise Iselmyr would've taken control over his body and bring his "sorry arse" herself to the Watcher's cabin. After figuring out this confrontation might've ended up into a physical fight and waken up the whole crew, Aloth gathered all his will and made his decision.

The wizard quetly came closer to Noelle's cabin and looked in: the elf woman was sitting at her table covered with books, notes and scrolls. She was reading a thin book which cover was almost destroyed and making notes on a piece of paper. Aloth nocked at a wall.

"You cannot sleep? Feel sea sick?" - pale elf woman looked up from book and smiled to her night guest.

"Oh, no, no, I merely saw a light and thought, well..."- the wizard rubbed his neck nerviously and smiled in responce, - "I thought if you stayed up this late maybe you are busy with something which may need some help. So here I am".

"Oh, this? Nothing serious. I am trying to sort all what Eder and me saved from Caed Nua and find if there are any foliants which could be useful for our hunt for Eothas. But I've found nothing important so far, we already know everything what is written in these books. Only Eothas himself may provide the information we need. And other gods, although..."

"What's the matter?"

"I would prefer to limitate my interactions with them".

"Understandable. Especially knowing they are not gods at all..."

The Watcher stood up from chair and started streching her stiffed neck and back. She then sat on her bed and invited Aloth to sit nest to her with gesture.

"Can I speak freely with you?" - she asked.

"But of course!"

"I... don't know what to do. You know I was a priestess of Eothas. Well, at some point I still am. I believe in compassion, I believe there is always hope for everyone and everything. I believe every person has a light but some hide it or switch it off because they lost their way. As a faithful servant of him my goal would be to go with him and help. But knowing what he is supposed to do... I want to understand him. I want to stop his plan, yes, but I feel the first thing I must do is to understand. But the more questions I ask the closer it bring us to the conclusion of Eothas' work. Something tells me that there is more hidden in his thoughts, maybe there is a way to convince him, but the others... They want him to be destroyed. And I..."

Young woman looked lost: being the Watcher, being killed by the god she worshipped, even by an accident, being the one whose role is to stop this rogue god... Wasn't it enought for one small mortal, who merely wanted to have a peaceful life? Noelle chuckled.

"Forgive me, Aloth. Here I am, sitting on a ship, whining about my life. An interesting and bright life, some may say".

The elf took Noelle's hand; he wanted to say something but words couldnt form into his mind. The only thing he could do is to embrace her.

"Thank you. Your company brings peace to my soul".

Aloth looked into woman's grey eyes.

"I am alway happy to help you if you need it".

"Lad, what did y told ye?"

An annoying voice appeared again in the wizards head making the elf squint and sigh.

"... Iselmyr?" - Noelle was familiar with Aloth's behaviour when the old soul of Iselmyr, the most ferocious elven woman she ever met, manifested herself. They were familiar, and after the feelings betwween Aloth and Noelle appeared, the elven wizard warned his beloved that she may act as an intrusive neighbour. So far she was a silent observer and haven't interrupted their conversations. Tonight was something different.

"Sorry, me kind wif, needed to remind tis wee bookworm 'bout somethin'. Now off y go!" - said Iselmyr with Aloth's mouth.

"Forgive me! And her..."

"Don't apoligize. If I hadn't knew you both..." - Noelle chucked.

"Well, it seems I helped you to get rid of heavy thoughts. Ahem, "we" helped you. So... I guess it is time for me to come back and for you to sleep at least a little".

"Thank you, Aloth, for taking care about me", - Noelle softly kissed the wizard and ran her fingers through his long dark hair.

The elf stood up and made several steps towards the exit but stopped; he squinted again, not because his "neighbour" showed up again, but because he didn't want to leave. Noelle told him some time ago she won't demand of him anything, knowing how difficult it is for someone who spent the most part of his life alone and hid some details of his past and, more importantly, his Awakening... but no more. Aloth turned around, he noticed the Watchers' questioning gaze; the elf once again sat on Noelle's bed, he pulled her towards himself and kissed. Such action was unexpected, but the pale elf woman, surprisingly did not pushed her beloved. The wizard embraced the woman, he put all the passion, all the feelings into a kiss but still remained careful not to scare or not to squeeze her too tightly. After they lips separated, Noelle looked into Aloth's eyes.

"Iselmyr, is it you?"

The question was not nesessary and the Watcher already knew the answer, but decided to ask anyway.

"It. Is. I".

Noelle pulled Aloth closer, and then they both ended up lying on a bed trying to be more opened to each other.

#pillars of eternity #aloth corfiser #fanfiction #fanfic #poe watcher

3 notes · View notes

bomberqueen17 · 2 years

Text

stressy

so today we got up, and i drank some coffee and made some plans for the day, because huzzah, no work today due to driving bans still in effect also the parking lot at work has not and cannot be plowed.

First order of business was to shovel out the driveway though, so I ate half a granola bar and girded myself in snow gear and out we went. We own a small snowblower, which has a mouth that can take up to about twelve inches of snow. Given that the total for our area was around 49″, that wasn’t gonna work. But what we could do, was use the snow shovels and a garden spade to shovel out a patch, and then chop the snow drifts into that patch and run the snowblower over that patch again and again, to take the snow and fling it up over the very high snowbanks.

So we did that, Dude and I, for an hour and some change. And at the end of it, we had busted the huge drift that was blocking us off from the street.

So we came inside and had toast for breakfast, and congratulated ourselves. and then I set to work on cleaning the house. Farmsister and her family are staying here on the night of the 1st, and the guest bedroom is full of my clothes and the living room is full of all the debris I never unpacked from various trips back and forth and back and forth to the cabin.

First thing I did was fasten some adhesive hooks to the wall where my coat rack fell down last year; I’ve been keeping my coats in a pile on the floor ever since because if I put them into the closet I lose them forever. That was a great start, but then I... think the stress of the last couple of days weeks months really caught up, and i spent the next several hours wandering fretfully in circles. I did get a lot of tidying done but in tiny intervals, cycling among tasks in little microbursts of activity that, while productive, were not in any way organized.

I did make a hearty lunch-- we have no milk in the house, so when I made box mac n cheese I had to use sour cream-- and we had a few lil smokies sausages left, so what I did was that I browned an onion for a very long time in butter, then threw the lil smokies in, chopped, and then deglazed the pan with some pasta water, and stirred in the sour cream to that and then added the cheese powder and then the cooked macaroni and voila, gourmet, bone apple teeth. We needed something substantial after all that shoveling.

Dude caught on that I was stressed, and asked what he could clean. i asked him to clean off the bathroom counter. He spent two hours on this, which is fantastic-- removed every item, considered it, and threw it out if it wasn’t still good, and put it back if it was still good. Now that counter is presentable. The floor is not, but he did the tub last week, so it’s almost like grown people live in this house.

I found my long-lost kindle, which had slipped into a drawer in the sewing desk in the living room. i also de-silted the sewing desk, so I could set up my new electric spinning wheel there. Am very excited about that. Also excited because my mother gave me an enormous bag of beautifully prepared wool from Battenkill Fibers, a gorgeous silky longwool of some kind, pin-drafted, just off-white, suitable for dyeing.

I wanted to write. I’m so so so close to an update for Awakening. And I’m not like. *far* off from an update for Golden Towers. I want to finish both by the end of the year, know I won’t manage it, but at least I might finish the first one. I have so many ideas; I put a bunch of little things into the Wanksmas round, and some will wind up being in the main continuity and some will not. I wrote neither smut nor really to any of the prompts, but I did manage drabbles, and really it’s just nice to be involved in something.

(One thing I wrote, I left on anon by adding it to the anonymous collection. Wonder if anyone will guess which one it was!)

Anyway, we hiked over to Dude’s mom’s house again, where she had prepared christmas dinner for just us. A twelve-pound ham, split three ways! but there was nothing to be done, no room for the whole thing in the freezer. We couldn’t get Dude’s aunt there, due to the driving bans; she’s not quite spry enough anymore to walk that last tenth of a mile in the deep snow, and her oven isn’t working well enough to have her host it (Dude’s mom could probably make the walk and we could’ve picked her up, but it wasn’t worth the logistical hassle and, to be fair, it is rather a difficult walk.)

oh i forgot to finish this entry. Well, I’ll post it this morning. We had a lovely dinner of Too Much Ham and some very decadent potatoes and of course the variant on greenbean casserole that his family eats. And we helped her clear some snow from shrubberies in her front yard, and had intended to help clear her driveway but her neighbors had already done so. No plows have been by so there’s not much point doing more.

I’m terribly sore now from shoveling and moving boxes to clean the house. I’m glad I did as much as I did heavy lifting-wise yesterday. Now it’s morning and I’ve awoken before 5 to discover that yeah I’ve mildly fucked up my back, so that’s awesome. But I have had many healing cat snuggles and also like a handful of ibuprofen so I have some hopes of the situation resolving itself.

I can confirm that about four more inches of snow fell overnight but it looks to be fluffy so we’ll be fine.

#about the author #real life #blizzard of '22

38 notes · View notes

writereleaserepeat · 1 year

Text

Blood of the Sun - Chapter Two

Previous // Next

CW: hypothermia, frostbite, blood mention, scar mention, drugging

“Clear off our bed, and get the spare blankets,” Percy instructed as he carried the human into the cabin. Jasper gave a curt nod before darting up the wooden stairs that led to the loft.

“Don’t die on us now,” Percy whispered to the body clutched in his arms as though it could hear him. It was nothing short of a miracle that they had made it back to the cabin with the boy still breathing. Whether he would make it through the next twenty-four hours, well, that was another question entirely.

Percy made his way carefully up the creaking steps, taking care not to jostle the frail human body too much, and entered the master bedroom. Jasper had already pulled back the blankets and pillows so there was a flat surface to work on, and Percy wasted no time in getting down to business.

Once the human was laid out on the bed, Percy began to remove the clothes he hastily pulled on to the naked body just forty minutes earlier. In the bright lights of the master bedroom, and out of the dark haze of snow, the severity of the boy’s condition became apparent.

Fang marks littered his paper-thin skin, each wound in a different stage of healing. The ring of purple around his neck spoke to where his former keepers preferred to drink, but the deep gashes across his thighs demonstrated a more eclectic taste. Percy’s stomach churned as he continued his inspection, noting the severe frostbite on the boy’s fingers and toes, and he observed the signs of nascent infection in one of the deepest wounds.

“We need to get him warmed up,” Jasper said with urgency, and Percy was pulled out of his momentary stupor. When he turned to look at his companion, he saw a mound of blankets clutched in Jasper’s arms, the fleece and down stacked in billowing folds.

“Right.” He stood to help, and began by pulling a downy quilt up to the human’s neck. Jasper followed with another blanket, ensuring that the body was covered evenly, so as not to warm the extremities before the core.

“I’m not sure we can save his hands,” Percy said as yet another blanket was laid on the body. It was much too early to know definitively, but from the scent of tissue death that clung to the back of his throat, and the blackened blisters that extended to the boy’s wrists, the prognosis was grim.

Jasper gave a solemn nod as he layered another blanket.

“It didn’t look good out there. He’s going to be in a lot of pain when he’s finally lucid, that’s for sure.”

“Not if I can help it.” Percy already had some solutions in mind, tucked away in the cabin’s medical bag, and in the depths of his own body.

“There’s no way we have enough morphine to get him through this,” Jasper said with a look of incredulity in Percy’s direction. “The kit has enough to set a broken arm or two, that’s it. And there’s no way we can get him out of here before he’s either awake or dead.”

“I wasn’t going to use morphine.”

Jasper’s eyes widened, and flicked between Percy and the boy with a sense of alarm.

“We don’t have a lot of blood here to spare. It’s another three days before Tobias is due in with the next shipment, and I know you’re hungry.”

“I’ve been hungry before, and I’ll be hungry again,” Percy growled. “Do you think I’m an animal, incapable of controlling my instincts, my desires? You should know me better than that. I have this human’s blood on my hands and I haven’t so much as licked my lips.” It was true - the open wounds had wept crimson onto Percy’s palms.

Percy was already rummaging around in his nightstand by the time Jasper made another sound of protest. Percy’s hands were hunting for the familiar leather sheath he always kept stashed in the top drawer, usually buried amongst the other personal necessities. It never hurt to have a knife within arms-reach in the Alaskan backcountry.

But before Jasper could speak again, and before Percy ever found the knife, the body in the bed let out a piercing cry.

---

Cold.

It was a word in his mind as much as it was a feeling in Shiloh’s very bones. He ached under the cold, and he worshipped it, gripped by both fear and awe the same. It was what he would have expected to feel if he had seen an angel and been forced to bow to its might.

But instead of resting with angels, Shiloh was conscious. He was staring up at timber ceilings, so similar to those of his prison, and he was weighed down by blankets. Blankets. It was a sensation he had almost forgotten.

The next thing he saw was two pairs of red eyes staring down at him.

He screamed as fangs pierced his skin. Two powerful arms held him down alongside his shackles, but Shiloh thrashed against them nonetheless. His legs fought for purchase on flesh, on cement, on anything that could leverage him away from this blood-sucking leech. All he could see were those god-forsaken wooden planks above him, his sole facsimile of a sky.

And still the monster purred in the crook of his neck, lapping up the hot liquid that dripped across Shiloh’s collarbone. He was sticky with sweat and with dried blood. He was sticky with rage, anger, molten fury that resonated with every heartbeat. But then his head began to spin, as it always did. It told him that he was soon going to teeter on the brink of consciousness, and the beast would finish its meal, leaving Shiloh’s body to replenish its stock.

“Fuck you,” he grumbled as his lucidity slipped away, merely grateful that he could curse without the leather gag in his mouth.

“With pleasure,” Griffith murmured into Shiloh’s soft skin, and then he resumed drinking.

The present returned to him, and the red eyes came into focus once more. Shiloh hadn’t seen these two vampires before. No, even among the fleeting guests among the orgies and dinner parties, these two faces were new. New was never a good thing.

He tried to sit up, but a strong arm planted itself in the middle of his chest. Shiloh found himself pinned to the bed, a soft mattress beneath his back. He couldn't remember the last time he laid on something quite so soft. His mind floated in a thousand directions at once, but he couldn’t feel any restraints on his limbs.

Focus, he thought to himself, the chills gradually transforming into body-wracking shivers. Even though there was fabric between himself and the vampiric hand that rested on his chest, Shiloh swore he could feel the unforgiving claws. This was all too much.

“Human, please,” a soft voice pleaded. It was as close as Shiloh could imagine to one of those monsters pleading, anyway. They were beasts incapable of mercy, so this was likely nothing more than their usual monstrous trickery.

“Get of’a me,” he grumbled, but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. The words came out slurred, and when he tried to grab at the hand on his chest, his arms didn’t move. He couldn’t feel his hands at all. And again his heart was pounding against his ribs, begging to be let out, pushing a thunder of blood into his ears.

“What th’ fuck’ve you done t’me,” he slurred, his voice cracking as his body was seized by shivers. Pain and cold coalesced in a cruel symphony of pain. Shiloh tried to curl his hands into fists, but there was no response. He couldn’t feel anything below his elbows, nor below his knees. Neither responded when he tried to move them.

“Young human, I can understand you’re in distress.” This was a second voice, coming from the vampire whose head was ringed in thick brown hair. The red eyes glittered like rubies. Shiloh loathed it.

“I- I’m-” Shiloh stuttered as he came up short. Consciousness was slipping away again, a sharp heat prickling across his extremities until it grew cold, and his old wounds were set alight by some invisible hand. His lungs were gripped by an unforgiving iron hold that made it impossible to draw a breath. If he could have died in that moment, Shiloh would have gone forth eagerly into the afterworld.

“Get me the knife,” one of the voices said. Shiloh’s head was spinning too severely to pinpoint which of those creatures was speaking, or to whom it made the request. Shiloh also knew that he wasn’t going to survive another bloodletting.

“This is dangerous.”

“I don’t care. It’s his best shot. He’s going into shock, and he’s going to die if we don’t do something. I’ll be fine, Jasper, just hand me the knife.”

The tears were involuntary, as were the spasms that pulsed through Shiloh’s core. The vampire holding him down was the only thing that kept him still beneath the blankets. Perhaps it would be for the best if he was still, so the knife could find its target, and so Shiloh could leave this world and find something that resembled peace.

At least I tried, he thought to himself as a flash of steel glinted in the low light. At least I outsmarted them, at least for a little while. I hope they all burn in hell.

His mouth parted in one last scream, his body no longer able to contain the pain, and arched his back with the last of his core strength. If Shiloh ever had control of his body, he had surrendered it now. The angel of death contorted his muscles and commanded them at will.

And then his scream was cut off as flesh was shoved between his teeth, blood pulsing hot across his tongue.

---

“You’re choking him,” Jasper said, his voice barely above a whisper, but the younger vampire made no move to stop Percy’s haphazard feeding.

Percy felt his own strength waning the moment he split his skin. His healing factor was already inhibited by days without feeding, but his own blood spilling into the human’s mouth weakened him instantly. Blunt teeth grazed his own pale skin, and he stared down into two wide eyes, their brown depths glittering with fear and hatred in equal part.

“He’ll be fine,” Percy said. A moment later the boy swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and his muscles began to relax shortly thereafter. The human swallowed three more mouthfuls of blood beneath Percy’s watchful eye, and only then did the vampire pull his crimson-streaked arm away.

“Get me some gauze,” Percy commanded, his eyes still transfixed on the human. The agonized thrashing had been reduced to twitching. Bright and wild eyes had dulled, eyelids slipping shut as the human was pulled towards a healing slumber.

“You’re an idiot.” Jasper’s hiss came to Percy’s ear as his partner pushed white gauze down on Percy’s pulsing knife wound.

“He’s comfortable now, isn’t he? I think that’s worth a few drops of my blood.”

“He’s unconscious, again, I might add.” There was silence, and then Jasper sighed. “Okay, maybe this was a mercy. We still don’t know if he’s going to make it through the night.”

Percy looked down at the human, now entirely limp, his limbs immobile beneath the blankets. It would be hours before the human’s core temperature would return to safe levels, even with all the blankets in the world. The next twenty-four hours would reveal just how much damage winter had done, and whether any of the decay-tinged limbs were salvageable.

“I’ll feed him more blood if I have to,” Percy swore softly. The knife wound was already pulling itself together in a patchwork of white scar tissue. In a few more minutes, it would be as though the wound was never there in the first place.

Jasper’s hands soon found their way around Percy’s waist. It was all he could do to not surrender to them entirely, to simply sink into that comforting warmth and forget the human-shaped disaster he had dragged into their home.

Percy closed his own eyes and leaned back into Jasper’s chest. God, what he would give to stay there forever, warm against his lover’s steady heartbeat. Eventually he mustered the courage to speak again.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Don’t be,” Jasper responded, a soft breath in Percy’s ear. “This is what I love about you. You are selfless to a fault. We’re going to do all we can for this boy.”

“We’ll keep him safe until sunrise,” Percy said. Jasper held him tight, and Percy could feel those familiar wisps of curls bobbing with a nod.

“Until sunrise.”

#blood of the sun #whump #whump writing #whump blog #whump community #whumplr #vampire caretaker #human whumpee #bloodbag whumpee #had so much fun writing this one - I promise I'll get to the blood lore in my world later #also buckle up because there are 32 completed chapters of this lmao #it's actually editing and posting that are the bane of my existence #65k words rn with some more to go before it wraps up

14 notes · View notes

oceanasky · 7 months

Text

This chapter goes along with my "For You, I'll Do Anything" square.

Night Two

Back when they’d travelled together, the Doctor hardly ever seemed to sleep. Although, at the time, he’d insisted it was because of his “superior physiology,” Rose had wondered if he’d been afraid of what he might dream. Even in Pete’s World, the Doctor tended to stay up late and wake up early, although he told her it was because he was keen to pack as much into his one remaining life as he possibly could.

So, when she woke up to find he was still sleeping, curled up against her, Rose smiled. It had been a long night. She wasn’t quite sure how much time she’d spent napping on the ship, but she’d held out ‘til after midnight. Knowing him, the Doctor had kept working until he could barely keep his eyes open. And, since she knew he’d want to get started fixing the ship as soon as he was awake, Rose decided she’d go get all the remaining materials that he’d asked for before Zeni had her perception filter malfunction.

Rose started to get out of bed, tensing for a moment as he moved, afraid she’d woken him up, but he just rolled over with a mumble–it sounded like gibberish to her, although she smiled as she realised it was probably some alien language he knew. Once Rose was out of bed, it didn’t take long to get dressed. She carefully closed the door behind her as she left their cabin.

The sun wasn’t up yet, the winter sunrise in Lapland hours later than she was used to in London, but the sky was starting to get lighter. Rose could see her breath in the cold morning air. She shivered, shoving her hands deeper into her pockets. Despite the cold, as she looked around at the cabins and snow covered landscape, Rose had to admit Saariselka was stunningly pretty.

She set off after the aluminium cans first. It wasn’t particularly early, so there were several other guests on their way to the restaurant as well. The building was all rustic chic, with light-coloured wood panelling and reindeer antlers affixed to the chandelier at the front. “Can I have a seat over by the bar?” Rose asked, to the hostess’ nod.

The hostess walked her over to a table that gave Rose a good view of the well-stocked bar. She perused the menu, grateful to see there were plenty of beverages on it that would come in cans. If she went around the back after getting some breakfast, she could nick several from the bin.

She’d just tracked down some tea and decided against trying the herring at the buffet, instead scooping up a generous helping of bacon and eggs to go with her toast. Then she sat back down. As soon as she took a bite, the Doctor slid into the seat across from hers. He was dressed in a dark green sweater her mum had bought for him over the holiday. His hair was still mussed from sleep.

“I woke up and you were gone,” he said, absently tapping the table with his fingers. And, although his tone was light, the look in his eyes was worried.

Rose leaned over to her hand on his. “Sorry. I hoped I’d be back before you woke up. I wanted to get the rest of the materials you needed.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Got peckish, did you?”

Rose grinned. “One thing I learned from travelling with you is to eat whenever you can. Never know when you’ll have to run. Besides, it would look a bit suspicious if I poked around in the bins instead of going inside. Now at least I can pretend to be looking for something.”

“Good plan.” He patted his pocket. “And I found some lubricant.” A hotel guest walking by their table shot him a dirty look as she heard that last sentence, pulling her child’s hand as they walked away. The Doctor’s cheeks turned pink. “Not that kind of…oh, never mind.”

Rose couldn’t help but laugh at his expression. For all that he was brilliant, he could say all manner of daft things without realising how they’d sound to anyone else. She patted his hand again. “Bet they think we’re going to have a very different sort of day than we are.”

The look he gave her was full of heat. “Well, maybe not a completely different sort of day. Not if I can get Zeni’s transportation sorted out, that is. Speaking of,” he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the sonic screwdriver below the table, “suppose I should run a scan, see if there’s any trace of what shorted out her communicator.”

Rose nodded. “Oh, did I tell you about Jake’s latest date?” she asked before launching into a story about their Torchwood colleague’s most recent dating escapade so nobody would notice the sound of the sonic. The Doctor gave her an easy smile as he ran the scan, then squeezed her hand when he’d finished.

Then she caught sight of someone walking by the window and went very still.

~*~

As soon as Rose’s hand tightened on his, the Doctor sat up in his chair. He fought the urge to turn around. “What is it?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

“It’s the same man from yesterday. The shifty one. He saw me with Zeni.”

“Has he noticed you, do you think?”

Rose shook her head.

The Doctor looked down at the sonic, thinking. From his scan, it was clear Zeni’s perception filter had gotten ‘help’ shorting out. And he wasn’t familiar with the tech that had caused the malfunction. That was the trouble with a brand new universe–he’d told Rose once that parallel worlds were like a gingerbread house, full of traps you didn’t see until it was too late. And yet, given the choice between his life with Rose in this strange new world and living on his own in his home universe, he had to admit he’d choose the gingerbread house every time.

“What do you think is going on?” Rose asked, voice low.

“I don’t know. And I really hate not knowing. Should we ask him, do you think?”

Rose’s hand tightened on his. “No. He hasn’t seen you yet. I’ll follow him while you go help Zeni. Maybe it’s nothing; he could look shifty because he’s stepping out on his partner or about to cheat on his diet. But, if it is something, then you need to help Zeni get away.”

“Rose….”

She gave him a look he knew well. It meant he was about to lose whatever argument they were having. “I’m trained for this. Torchwood, remember? And I know you could do it too, but I can’t help Zeni get home. She needs you.”

“And I need you,” he reminded her, threading his fingers through hers. This was supposed to be simple; answering a distress call, just the two of them, just like old times. He hadn’t wanted to get Torchwood or UNIT involved for once; he’d just wanted to help someone fix their spaceship and then have a romantic weekend with his wife. Splitting up like characters in a horror movie? That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Recon only, Sarge,” Rose swore, saluting him with her free hand. Then she lowered her voice again. “Remember the dimension cannon? You should know by now I’d do anything to get back to you,” she said before smiling at him with her tongue between her teeth. “Besides, we still haven’t tried out that bed.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Promise?” Rose asked, smiling wider.

“Oh, yes.”

Trying not to draw attention to themselves, Rose finished up her food before they left the table. When they passed by the buffet, the Doctor grabbed some sausages and toast as well, reflecting that Rose was right about it being a good idea to eat whenever the opportunity came up. They walked out hand-in-hand. As soon as they were out the door, he tugged her to the side of the building, heading for the bins.

Luckily, the recyclables were separated already. It was the work of a moment to get the amount of aluminium he needed. He safely stowed them in the pockets of his coat. Then he heard a noise and, suddenly, Rose was kissing him.

~*~

As soon as the back door of the restaurant had opened, Rose had acted reflexively and launched herself at the Doctor, kissing him for all she was worth. She buried her hands in his hair, making it even messier than it had been before. And, as surprised as the Doctor was by the sudden kiss, he was clearly willing to follow her lead, opening his mouth under hers almost instantly, pulling her closer with an arm around her waist.

The staff member had to cough for a second time before Rose and the Doctor broke apart. “This area is off limits to guests,” the young man said, sounding torn between annoyance and laughter. He had a full bin bag at his feet.

“Sorry. Won’t happen again,” Rose promised breathlessly, grabbing onto the Doctor’s hand and pulling him away with her. He had that glazed look she loved, the one that told her she’d succeeded in kissing him senseless. It didn’t happen often–he almost never stopped thinking with that Time Lord mind of his–but she’d figured out a few ways that always seemed to do it.

They left the restaurant area, heading back to their cabin through the trees when the Doctor laughed. “You know, if you wanted a genetic transfer so you’d have some alien DNA on you to confuse any sensors the man might have, all you had to do was ask,” he said with an exaggerated wink.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Ta. And I still can’t believe you kissed Martha and told her it was a ‘genetic transfer’ that meant nothing. King of mixed bloody signals, you are.”

He frowned. “A kiss seemed like the best option at the time, considering the Judoon and the hospital full of people running out of air. Do you think it would have been better if I’d licked her face?”

Rose gave him a look. “Licking her face would’ve been confusing in an entirely different way. Still, don’t think you’d have survived without Martha, so maybe a kiss was the right option. I just hope other you gives her one hell of an apology.”

“Yeah,” the Doctor said, tugging at his earlobe. Rose rolled her eyes again. She loved the man with all her heart, but Martha had made the right choice, leaving when she did. He hadn’t treated Martha well at all. And the fact that the Doctor had been acting like that because he’d been grieving losing her at Canary Wharf…well, Rose wished she could apologise to Martha too. And thank her. Because, without Martha, without Donna, the Doctor wouldn’t be here.

Rose swung their hands together as they trudged through the snow. For the moment, they were just newlyweds, walking through a snowy forest together on a glamorous mini-break. Which they were, of course, although her husband was planning to spend the day fixing a spaceship with a gorgeous bird-like alien at the same time Rose followed someone who might be dangerous. Just like old times: danger, exotic locations, aliens.

And Rose wouldn’t have it any other way. Especially because, unlike old times, there was the promise of sex later.

~*~

They were nearly to their cabin when Rose spoke up again. “Can you fix the ship by tonight, do you think?”

“Well,” he drawled, “I am a genius.”

“I dunno, I remember what you did to the toaster last week,” she teased.

“I made it more efficient!”

“You made it launch the toast across the room.”

“Exactly! No need to get up again to fetch the toast.”

“Good job my mum wasn’t there. Would’ve scared her half to death.”

“Nah, Jackie’s made of sterner stuff than that,” he said easily, then came to a halt in the snow with mounting horror as he realised the words that had just come out of his mouth. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

Rose grinned. “Don’t worry…I’ll save it for her birthday.”

He tugged her against his side and she laughed. “Anyway, now that I have the aluminium–”

“--and lubricant,” Rose supplied brightly, patting at his pocket, but mostly just patting his bum.

“Yes, that too,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he looked down at her, trying for a stern expression that quickly became a grin when she patted his bum again. “I’ll be able to fix the ship the rest of the way, as long as whatever took out her perception filter stays well clear.”

“And I’ll keep an eye on things here. Make sure nobody follows you.”

“You’ll call if you get into trouble?”

Rose raised her eyebrows. “Ta very much. Trained agent, remember? What are you planning to do if I call?”

“For you, I’ll do anything.” He’d loved Rose so much, he hadn’t regenerated after that Dalek had shot him when they’d found each other again–that choice was why this version of him existed at all, why he’d been able to save all of reality with Donna. And, although he hadn’t thought it was possible, he loved Rose even more now than he had back then. What would he do for her? Wrong question. What wouldn’t he do for her?

She looked up at him, eyes shining. “I’ll call if I need to,” she promised. Then she stood up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his cheek. “But I won’t need to.”

(The rest of the chapter is available at the Ao3 link above)

#doctorrosebingor2 #doctorrose #doctor who #timepetals #metacrisis doctor #rose tyler #for you I'll do anything

3 notes · View notes

queenlucythevaliant · 2 years

Text

Such a Blaze You Seldom See

Written for the Inklings Challenge 2022 ( @inklings-challenge ). Inspired by Robert Service’s “The Cremation of Sam McGee.”

January 6, 1897

Dear Lena,

Men say that strange things can happen in the Klondike. I never quite believed them till now. Now, I tremble to recall what happened to Sam and me a month ago when we crossed from Fort Yukon to Dawson in late December, a rough trip to be sure. I halfway suspect that what I saw was the strangest thing ever to happen in that frozen expanse. Whatever the case, it was a miracle.

You know better than anyone that Sam was always keen to leave Idaho. He would have liked to go anywhere else, but from boyhood his favorite notion was that he’d go back east for a fancy college education and become an engineer or an architect. Even more than that, though—more than anything, he wanted to marry you and start a family. He would have done right by you, Lena, if only he could have.

But God was unkind. Sam never went east, never got to college, and he broke your engagement, though it broke his own heart to do it.

Da was a wandering soul, you know, and he went out the door when I was ten after years of struggling to stay put. I started getting nervous fits after Da left, though I mostly grew out of it within a couple years. They hurt like blazes and I had to treat with laudanum, but I never fell dependent on it the way so many people do. I had Sam, who was carefuler and more precise than any doctor. He watched over my laudanum use and cared for me when I was hurting.

I started healing, and that was when you and Sam finally got engaged. But then Ma fell sick with consumption.

Sam told me what you said when he broke the engagement: “I’ll wait, but not forever.” Those words were like some morsel of food to a starving man. He put your engagement ring on a chain after you returned it and carried it around his wrist as a bracelet: “So I can wear my hopes on my sleeve,” he would say.

Ma died last summer. I’m not sure if you know that. You were long gone by then.

Sam called it a miracle when the letter came. Dear sons, it said, If you are reading this letter, you are still in Pellton where I left you. Now I have the chance to make amends for my absence. By some stroke of luck, I was in Seattle when the news of Klondike gold came down. I have staked a claim worth six dollars a pan and begun construction of a cabin on site. Come to Dawson City and join me. Five hundred dollars advance enclosed for the trip. At the bottom of the page was my Da’s unfamiliar signature.

Of course, getting to Dawson would be difficult, but Sam and me conferred and decided to go for it. Soon as possible, we said, else Da or the gold or both might have run out by the time we got there.

Six days before Christmas, we were making our way over the God-forsaken trail from Fort Yukon to Dawson. It was freezing—"Proper cold,” Sam said, which I later found out meant thirty below. Our eyelashes froze and stuck together. The hair in our noses froze and it stung when we inhaled. Even through our parkas, the wind stabbed past our skin down to the brittle bone.

“Hell on earth,” I complained. It wasn’t an exaggeration either. “Didn’t some fellow once write that Hell was someplace frozen?”

“That was Dante, I think,” Sam hollered back, “’S not in the Bible.” I couldn’t see his face through the hood and the cap he had on over it, but I could picture the way his lip quirked up at the edge when he said it.

“Want to stay in back another turn? I can keep going,” he offered. It was near my turn to walk out in front of the sled and break the path for the dogs while Sam took his turn walking behind.

With sled dogs, someone has to go out front of the team on snowshoes and clear the way, else the dogs would waste all their energy fighting through snow that might come up past their noses. It’s hard work, being out front, but it would be harder still heading to Dawson without a good dog team.

Sam’s brows would be furrowed together in worry when he made me that offer. I could just see it, and it bothered me. Even all these years on, Sam was always fussing after my health.

“Naw, I’ll manage,” I said. I didn’t want Sam wearing himself out on my account.

Of course, a few miles later, he insisted and back behind the sled I went. I never could talk Sam out of anything once his mind was made up.

That night, we were packed beneath the snow in the shadow of the sled, which served as a windbreak. It was near fifty below, but the stars were dancing overhead in a show the likes of which you just don’t see in Pellton and I felt, if not comfortable, then at least contented. Sam turned over then, from being on his back looking up at the sky to sideways and looking at me.

“Cade,” said he, “we’ll pass near the Belle Isle Altar on Christmas day. I’d like to make an offering.”

“Mmmm. Whatever you say, Sam.” I was damn exhausted, as you can imagine.

I’m sure you’ve heard about the Altar as a legend or a fairytale, but the folks up north will swear that it’s real. I’d heard talk of the Altar a thousand times over the last few months. Once we got up past St. Michael, everyone had something to say on the subject. A tall, burly man from Oklahoma called it a miracle and a mystery. The captain of the boat that had carried us to Fort Yukon said it was the closest thing to magic that any man had ever seen. Yet plenty of people also said it wasn’t worth adding the extra hours to the long, grueling trek to Dawson.

“I’d like to offer up Lena’s ring,” said Sam.

That got me awake. “What?”

“Her engagement ring, Cade.”

No no no, I thought, You can’t!

What I said was, “It’s your token, Sam. But don’t you want to keep it so you can go back and give it to her again once you’re rich?”

Sam was quiet for a long time. “Lena’s gone, Cade. She waited, and then she left, and I expect she’s found someone else by now. And that’s alright.” Were it not for our wraps, he would have reached out and ruffled my hair.

“Now wait a minute, Sam—”

“And I’m never gonna pass by as holy a place as Belle Isle Altar again in my life, most like. I want to offer God the most precious thing I have as a sacrifice, and what better time than on the holiest night of the year?”

“You shouldn’t be so rash—”

“I ain’t being rash! Been thinking about this since we decided to come this way. If the good Lord does see fit to give me the second chance I always prayed for, then I’ll tell Lena what I did with her ring and I’ll buy her a big diamond instead of a little silver band. But if, as is my suspicion, I never have that chance—well then, that’s alright too. I’m praying for other things now, Cade.”

I bit my lip hard to keep the tears in. “You ever regret all the things you gave up to care for Ma and me?”

Sam didn’t hesitate. “Never. Not once.”

He turned a little in his snow-bed and I could just see the glint off his eyes in the starlit darkness. He was looking at me with more love than I knew how to take in.

“I’ll always wish I could have married Lena and gone east and all—but I never could have left you and Ma while either of you was ailing. Wouldn’t have been fair to Lena either, if I could only give her half my worry.”

And that was that, I guess. We dozed off, slept hard, and woke in the morning with miles and miles of frozen expanse ahead of us.

About midday, we were picking our way across the flats when a squall hit us flat outa nowhere. One moment, the horizon was clear, then an instant later an enormous cloud of silver was racing towards us and Sam was yelling “Hurry! The dogs! The sled!”

Well, we got the dogs dug in as fast as we could and dove beneath the sled before the worst was upon us. We bundled up tight in the snow and prepared to wait it out, both trying to work out in our heads how far it might set us back. The light had dwindled to little more than five hours each day and it was costly to lose any of it.

Then, slowly and then all at once, my vision lit up hot. I felt a pain in the base of my head, right in the place where my skull met my spine.

“Sam,” I said. “Sam.”

There must have been something about my voice, because Sam knew at once. “You’re having a fit,” he stated in a pitch-black tone.

Strange, that. I hadn’t had a fit in nearly four years. I’d been healthy, but somehow Sam just knew.

I nodded. When I remembered he couldn’t see me, I cleared my throat and murmured, “I am.”

I could sense Sam’s indecision. His muscles were taught and there was a grim look on what little I could see of his face. The moments lengthened and ticked by until finally, Sam let out a sigh. “Your laudanum’s in the sled, way down towards the bottom. Can you bear it?”

“Yessir,” I said, trying my best to be brave.

I don’t know how much time passed. Pain is timeless, even worse when you’re in the middle of a white-out storm. I only know that eventually, the pain got too much to take. I started screaming.

Sam was up in a flash. He climbed into the sled and got me the laudanum. Then he was beside me again pouring a measure in my mouth, and a short time later the pain began to leave me. (Or was it hours? Never can tell.)

I slept. Sam didn’t. The storm ended eventually, but we stayed put till morning.

When we rose the next day, I could tell Sam wasn’t right. Those few minutes in the storm the day before had stolen away his body’s heat and he was still chilled, even after the long rest in his hood beneath the snow. “Don’t you worry,” Sam told me, but his voice was dry and cracked like last year’s autumn leaves. He was moving real slow.

He was staggering and stumbling about before noon, muscles stiff and uncooperative. I decided to halt, but Sam wasn’t having it. “Am I in charge, or is my baby brother? We’ve got thirty miles to make today. We go on.”

“You may be older, but you’re not in charge of me. Right now, I know what’s best and I say halt.”

We halted.

I built a fire, but that blue tinge that he had all over wasn’t going away. I pulled out the extra blankets, but Sam pushed them aside. “Too darn hot,” he said, teeth chattering.

After a while, he fell into delirium. Last thing I remember my brother saying while he still knew me is, “Steady, Cade. Death ain’t such a big thing.” After that, he just clung to the sled and raved. Ma and Da, his plans for college back east, bits and pieces from Scripture, and you. “Lena, Lena,” again and again. It was all jumbled and after a while it just ran together in a long stream of nonsense.

“’S it snowing?” Sam asked.

“Not right now,” I answered.

He never moved again.

It took me a bit to realize that my brother was dead. When I touched his skin, it was blue tinged and cold as ice.

It was only then that I realized I didn’t have any way of burying my brother. The ground was frozen solid, even by the river where the snow pack wasn’t as bad. There was no way I could possibly dig a hole to fit him. I knew what he’d tell me if he could: “Leave the body and go on; it’ll only weigh you down.”

But Sam was gone, and I wasn’t going to leave my brother’s body to freeze in the snow and be food for some animal. He was a good Christian, read his Bible at night and went to church most every week. He deserved a Christian burial.

The sled had a little room free, but not near enough to fit Sam’s whole body. I thought about just trying to tie him down on top of everything, but I knew that adding him to the heap would upset the stability of the sled and tire out the dogs. Even a good team can only haul so much. For a desperate moment, I thought maybe I could somehow carry him on my back—but when I tried to lift him, I found my brother’s body a great, unwieldy block of ice. It took nearly my whole strength to pick him up at the torso and carry him all of six yards. I set him back down with a grunt and for a long moment I considered dosing myself with a little more laudanum. I wanted to be numb.

(I didn’t want to think on the laudanum too hard, else I’d think about Sam going out in that storm to get it. If I let myself think on it, the guilt would destroy me and I couldn’t let it. I’d as good as killed my brother. I owed it to him to survive.)

But wait. One of the crates on the sled was Sam’s clothes. There was no need now to bring them to Dawson anymore. I would never wear them; Sam’s a good head taller than me, and I’m not likely to do much more growing.

I didn’t want to part with Sam’s clothes. Even if I couldn’t wear them, they’d still carry his scent. But I reasoned that it was more important to give my brother a proper burial than to hold onto sentimental objects. I tossed the clothes out into the snow and chopped up the crate for firewood.

The same logic applied to most of Sam’s half of the food and the few precious books he’d decided to bring. By the time I was though, I had space on the sled big enough to stow his body.

Then, just as I was shoving him onto the sled, I caught sight of your ring on its silver chain and I remembered about Sam’s offering.

I was three days out from Belle Isle Altar. I could still sacrifice the ring for him. Even though he was dead, I had to believe that God would still honor his offering.

So, as I finished chopping the crates and packing up and I prepared to move out, my heart swelled with a new strength of determination. It was up to me now to offer Sam’s most precious treasure to the Lord on Christmas day, just like the Wise Men did. I swore I would not fail.

There wasn’t a breath in that land of death as I started away that morning. The winds let up and I made good time. Maybe even enough that I wouldn’t be hard pressed to reach my destination by Christmas. I was hopeful, at least. I had promises to keep.

I tried not to think of what the Eskimo at Fort Yukon had said: “It is good that you have each other. Only a fool ventures into this country on his own with the winter at his heels.”

I halted for the night at the edge of one of the Yukon River’s little braided tributaries. It took me two tries to get the fire started all on my own, but I managed it in the end.

When I crept beneath the snow to sleep, I could almost feel Sam sitting there above me on the sled. I must have laid there for ten or fifteen minutes, keener and keener discomfort growing in my gut, until finally I said aloud, “It’s a mighty grief not to have you down below with me, Sam.”

In my mind, I saw his eyes crease and heard him reply, “You can come join me if you like, but it'll be a tight squeeze. You’ll have to toss your own things out in order to fit!”

I chuckled softly in the silence, momentarily comforted. I talked to Sam until my eyelids drooped shut.

In the days that followed, I kept up a steady stream of talk for Sam. I crossed several more tributaries telling him what the new cabin in Dawson would be like: “Wood floors, windows facing west, and a little reading corner, just like you said. Da’ll give us anything we ask for, just wait.” As I went across the Flats, I talked about you and him as though you could still get married for real: “Oh, but she’s a beauty, your Lena Lindquist. Long dark hair down to her knees and a pretty little smile that turns big when she laughs. She’ll make a beautiful bride, and your children will be prettier still. Can you imagine, you and her with a strapping boy and a half-pint little girl?” I hauled myself over a series of toothy ridges one at a time, grouching and cussing and hearing Sam chide me for my foul language. “If you’re gonna cuss, leave the Lord out of it!”

I felt half-mad. I found that I didn’t much care if I was.

Sometime in the middle of the next-to-last day before Belle Isle, I started to sing Christmas carols. “Here’s ‘Hark the Herald Angels’ for you again, Sam!” I would cry before launching into another of his favorites. In lonely, fleeting moments when the winds blew hard, I saw Sam’s body grinning at me from the sled. “Always did love that one, Cade,” he seemed to say.

As I sat and supped that night, a kind of fierce, lonesome sorrow came over me, different from the constant ache in my chest that was Sam’s death. It was Christmas Eve and I had naught but my brother’s corpse for company. It was silly, but I guess I never really believed that anyone spent Christmas alone.

“Wish you were here,” I said. The wind whistled, but from the sled, Sam spoke not a word.

“I wish you were really here,” I said again. “Wish you hadn’t gotten me that laudanum. Wish you’d let me suffer. Wish you’d let me die, if it came to that. Wish you’d just listened to me scream and not moved a single inch.”

Sam wasn’t really on the sled. Only his body was.

“Wish you were selfish,” I said. “Wish you’d gone off to Yale or somesuch after Da left and married Lena while I was still sick and never looked back. Wish you could have had the life you wanted instead of freezing and dying in the middle of the Klondike. Wish you’d had a different brother. Wish you hadn’t had any brother!”

I was nearly yelling by this point and the dogs were getting agitated. I made myself settle and softly I muttered, “Wish I had died instead.

“You never would have let me, would you? You spent up all your life making sacrifices for your kin, so naturally you had to go and die on my account. You wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

The snow fell, and my tears fell. They froze crystal on my face. My brother didn’t answer.

I came to Belle Isle Altar after lunch on Christmas Day. It was right on the edge of the lake facing the water, closed in by a squat little stone building with a chimney on top. Out from the chimney, maybe half a mile into the air, came a continuous billow of smoke.

“Alright Sam,” I muttered. “Alright.” I climbed to the back of the sled where I’d left your ring with its chain still wrapped around his wrist. I felt for it. It was gone.

Immediately, my thoughts began racing. I remembered making the decision to put the ring back and go through with Sam’s offering. So, I figured, it had to be here somewhere.

I wrapped my arms around Sam’s torso and dragged him off the sled, then climbed back into the place where he had been. I scoured the whole area, raked my hands along every surface, but I couldn’t find it. Panic began to rise in my throat.

One at a time, I pulled every crate and box and item off the sled and piled them there in the snow. The sky scowled down at me as I carefully opened each and found that the ring wasn’t inside. My throat was closing up, somewhere between rage and despair. I didn’t know whether I wanted to scream to heaven or curl up in a ball and weep.

Finally, as I was pulling all the bits of firewood off the sled, I caught sight of something shiny and let out a whoop. I reached down for the engagement ring, but an instant later I realized my mistake. In my hand was only a broken-off piece of tarnished silver chain.

It must have gotten caught on one of the crates when I dragged them off the sled to chop them up, I realized. The ring itself was likely still lying there in the place where Sam had died, long since covered by drifts of snow.

Now I really did weep. I sat down on the edge of the sled and howled my woes out to the dreadful wind and snow. No offering. It was Christmas Day and I was at Belle Isle Altar without anything to burn.

No, wait. That wasn’t true. All my worldly possessions were there with me. We hadn’t brought much from Idaho, and less still had made it onto the sled when we left Fort Yukon, but I still had plenty of options. Surely, somewhere in that great pile I had a fitting treasure for Sam to offer. I turned and stared at the stack of crates and boxes. There was the monogrammed handkerchief that Da had once given Ma as a Christmas gift. There was the old family Bible, and all of my clothing, including my one good Sunday shirt.

There, leaning up against it all, was Sam’s body.

Bodies ought to be buried, but I remembered hearing once how some people prefer to cremate their dead and scatter the ashes.

“Here!” I cried aloud, and I wasn’t sure if I was talking to myself or my brother or to God. “Here is your offering!”

All in a rush, I stashed everything back on the sled except Sam’s stiff, frozen body. Then, with all my strength, I grabbed him tight beneath the arms and dragged him towards the squat little building where the Altar was waiting.

I blinked when I stepped inside. There were no windows, but it was brighter than the snow outside had been.

In the center of the squat, stone room stood a pillar of flame which started at the ground and went all the way up to the ceiling where its smoke escaped through the chimney. It was untended, and no fuel sat beneath it. From the untouched snow outside, I didn’t even think anyone had set foot in the place in at least a week. The Fire never grew or shrank. It danced and flickered, but never wavered. The light it threw off was bright, brilliant gold.

Yet it was a true fire; the smoke smelled like smoke, and the flame was blistering hot as I approached it. I came away with my parka singed.

It was all true. The Standing Fire at Belle Isle Altar was real, and as near to magic as I had ever seen. A miracle.

Would you take my meaning if I said that place covered up all my grief with a feeling altogether heavier and harder to bear? And yet the Fire was beautiful. Even now, I don’t really understand it.

Beside the Standing Fire was a stone slab big enough that I could have laid down and slept on it. It was far enough from the Fire that I could stand at it without turning red, but near enough that I was always aware of just how awfully hot it was. This was the Altar itself, erected, I assumed, by the Eskimos, or else by whatever fur trader first found this place a hundred years ago.

I left my offering a few feet from the Altar and returned to the sled for some wood.

I started singing again as I prepared the Altar. I started with a funeral dirge because it seemed only proper, but before long I found myself on Christmas carols again. The jolly tunes should have been at odds with the somber work I was doing, but I didn’t think Sam would have minded. Matter of fact, he’d have enjoyed it.

I arranged the kindling like I was making a bonfire, mostly because I couldn’t think of another way of doing it. Once all was set, I chose a long branch and carefully reached it to the very edge of the Standing Fire. A few seconds and it caught. I lit the kindling, and before long the flames of my Altar-fire were soaring high.

I figured there were probably words you were meant to say when you make an offering to God, but I didn’t know any of them. Then again, I didn’t think anyone had ever offered a corpse before. I was already doing the thing all wrong, so I might as well do it as best I could figure out.

“Lord, here in your presence, at the Standing Fire on Christmas Day we do bring this offering—that’s Sam and me both, Lord. He meant to give you his engagement ring, the one he’d intended for Lena Lindquist, but it got lost. I’m sorry about that; it wasn’t his fault.

“But Sam here was the best brother you ever gave anyone. I treasured him, and his body is the most precious thing I’ve got with me. If an offering is supposed to be something precious—well, I hope this is alright with You.

“But Lord, maybe it’s right that his body gets to be an offering. All his life was a sacrifice, you know. Every bit of it.”

With that, I burrowed a hole in the glowing center of the fire, and I hefted my brother’s body in. Then I turned round and fled out into the cold. I didn’t want to see him burn.

The wind was blowing hard, howling cross the frozen expanse. It was proper cold, but I could still feel the heat from the Standing Fire licking all over me. Sweat rolled down my forehead and the small of my back. I went back to the sled to get something to drink.

I made camp, melted some snow for water, and ate a little food. The stars came out overhead and I don’t know why, but they seemed prettier than ever that night. I tilted my head back in awe.

I don’t know how long I waited before returning to the Altar, but I think it was a good long while. I padded back cautiously, almost frightened—though I don’t really know what I was afraid of. I opened the door.

Sam was sitting cross legged on the Altar in the midst of the flames, cool as you please. When he saw me, he looked up laughing and called, “Close the door, won’t you? Don’t let the heat out.”

It was all I could do to stop myself lunging into the fire to grab hold of him.

“Sam?” I choked out, “Is that really you?”

“I told you, Cade: Death ain’t such a big thing.” My brother reached out his hand from inside the flame. I touched it.

Living flesh.

We laced our fingers together for a moment, and his hand was just like it always was. I could feel the calluses on his palm, the little raised scar on the back of his thumb he got making a fishhook when he was nine, the strength of his grip.

And then he was gone. The fire on the Altar burned with his ashes, and beyond it the miraculous radiance of the Standing Fire blazed on.

I don’t know what you’ll make of all this, Lena, but every word is true. Like I said: strange things happen in the Klondike. I know. I’ve seen them. I burned my brother Sam’s body on the Altar of the Standing Fire at Belle Isle, but I swear he was alive again in those flames.

#inklingschallenge #team chesterton #genre: intrusive fantasy #imagery: fire #story: complete #inklings challenge 2k22 #Leah stories #I'm very proud of this piece #let me know what you think ;)#pontifications and creations #inklings challenge

35 notes · View notes