#i hope abigail gives us another moment like this

[davinaclaires]

KATHRYN NEWTON as Claire Novak, SUPERNATURAL (2005-2020) Millie Kessler, FREAKY (2020) Lisa Swallows, LISA FRANKENSTEIN (2024)

[vaguely-concerned]

I have seen people question whether dios apate minor really needed to happen the way it did. it's the 'this could have been an email' of htn. 'augustine this did not have to be a threesome', I hear people saying. and boy do I have an obnoxious amount of things to say to protest this perfectly sensible assertion so here we go haha

1) yes it absolutely had to be like that. It says so on this piece of paper *hands you a piece of paper that says "because I said so and also it's narratively and thematically Sexy"* in my half-legible handwriting. seeing tamsyn muir describe harrow the ninth as a book about being a kid and realizing your parents probably had sex has given me such validation, I am unstoppable now. (to be serious for a moment, harrow the ninth is essentially a bildungsroman, and the threesome scene does a whole lot of thematic heavy lifting around harrow glimpsing elements of adulthood, relationships, and sexuality she clearly finds at the same time repulsive, bewildering and fascinating, and around opening her and especially our eyes to how much john is just a man with human longings still, under the god stuff. dios apate is crucial plot- and character-wise too -- it's a loadbearing threesome in terms of delivering the clues you need to piece together the mystery plot of the book, which is simply delightful -- but even more so thematically. and then the scene at the end where they confront john gives gideon some of that same opportunity to peek into adulthood and go '...well shit I guess', as a sort of mirror, just without the french kissing that time and more murder. the things magnus and abigail model for the girls about love and adulthood? mercy and augustine are providing the opposite-day batshit insane version of that fhdskjfa, you know, for contrast and spice)

2) listen... it gets lonely out there in deep space with your 'legendary unamorous' brother, two infant pathetic baby kitten sisters who you'll probably have to kill one day when you take another stab at god if they don't manage to get themselves killed along the way on their own, and the two people you've spent the last ten thousand years having separate yet connected married & divorced arcs with and also btw one of them is god... honestly a threesome over the dinner table is probably The most well-adjusted reaction one might hope for under those circumstances

3) on a characterization level I think Augustine is actually doing something incredibly deliberate with it: he's presenting John with yet another chance to admit what he did. which is notable especially since the deal he and mercy agree on as a condition for the threesome to happen at all seems to be that they're going to give the ol' godslaying another game try sooner rather than later. (I get the sense that it's not so much that he disagrees with her ultimate goal so much as that he thinks she's being dangerously indiscreet and hasty going about it, before. “though I think it will be the death of us,” huh.)

notice how he's structuring the whole thing: he's invoking the intimacy and love in their strange little threeway relationship and how long it's been by truly playing along with john's 'we're a happy family really when we're at home! :)' delusion (helped along by lowered inhibitions via enormous amounts of alcohol and what I've previously described as a joint mercy/augustine leyendecker themed thirst trap. ah, a classic). he brings up alecto and what happened to her -- or rather, he is clever enough to make john bring up alecto and how she is totally dead, right?? by seeming to make a careless statement that leads there and then acting contrite about it after. he (helped along by mercy, who I think realizes exactly what he's doing -- this is very much a two-man con) brings up how much they all loved their cavaliers, and wow funny how that's been haunting us for ten thousand years now huh :) wow, a lot of our other lyctor friends slash family sure are super dead in the name of some unknowable greater reason neither of us quite grasp and that you won't fucking tell us, aren't they. these are all the main grievances he and mercy confront john about at the end of the book, but put forth much more subtly and not phrased as an accusation -- he's baring his and mercy's vulnerabilities as bait, essentially. if john had, say, a conscience where his conscience should be instead of a black hole, it probably should have stirred something in him.

(also let me just say... the way augustine just takes a pneumatic drill to the TWO tender spots g1deon seems to have and then has the audacity to be like 'oh dear. did that upset him. ooof my bad *loooong dead-eyed slurp of his wine*' is just sooo... he's such a bitch!!! he's the only person who could ever have held their own in a ten-thousand-year bitch-off with mercy and I love him so much. well even if it wasn't all to get g1deon into murder range for harrow I think he wouldn't enjoy sticking around for the 'getting our tongues on god' part of the evening so maybe it's a kindness, really, and totally not pent-up aggression from the last twenty years or so breaking through)

he is all but shaking john by the lapels begging him to just... come clean about it already, to stop thinking he's still kidding everyone else along with himself. it's clear throughout the book that augustine knows exactly what john is at this point -- and all of the most cynical things he does say about it turn out to be distressingly right. john is always less sentimental than you'd think. john wouldn't forgive mercy, he will abandon in a heartbeat anything that isn’t necessary to him anymore, whether emotionally or in some other way. and still he seems to hold out some desperate absurd hope that the man he wants, the man he thought was there, is in there, somewhere deep deep down, if he just gives him the chance to show himself.

(mercy definitely has her own side of this whole thing, I'm just focusing more on augustine because this evening was like. his idea in the first place and I feel like we can Read Some Things into that fact lol. now that we have both ntn and htn to go from I sort of have this sense that the things augustine wants from john are more... personal? more interpersonal? they both love him equally, but mercy's love seems tinged slightly more towards the religious (augustine accuses her of knowing 'only worship without adoration', which like... also the eight house's entire Vibe lol) -- mercy at the end of that book is totally a person breaking up with GOD, not just with john -- while augustine's vibe is more like a man in the last not-with-a-bang-but-a-whimper days of a marriage that sort of felt like it could have been something real and good once but all your illusions about it have since been taken from you and trampled underfoot into the mud and you've had the divorce papers signed and ready in a drawer for over a year now, hell, as it turns out, is other people etc. lmao)

having a threesome over the dinner table with god is one thing, having a threesome over the dinner table centered on the one man and god who has yet again let you down in a way so fundamental it can barely fit into words and who you both still love in a way anyway, miserably, and also just reaffirmed your joint resolution to murder (all under the pretense that it gives your baby sisters the chance to murder your brother of ten thousand years yeah that's why this is happening no other underlying aching emotional motivations here haha)... listen mercy and augustine are simply on a different level, theologically. they've added horny shrimp colours to the religious spectrum. who else does it like them

[harleehazbinfics]

Home is where my Heart is.

Chapter 11: Hello Abby!/Hello Rosie! Table of Contents | Profile

Word Count: 2100+

A/N: AAAAAAAA one more chapter to goooo I want to draw them... if i have time...

“So, how was your.. trip..?” I ask them, holding a tray of apple pie by the door only to have Charlie rushing past me and into her room. "Do you want to take this apple pie?!"

“Is she okay?” I ask Vaggie who enters late.

Vaggie sighs and drops the luggage on the floor before she slumps on the couch. Not a moment later, the rest join us. Angel taking a picture of her first before asking, “How’d it go?”

“Horrible, absolutely horrible. Not only did they support our case but..” Vaggie drifts off looking upstairs.

“Well? Spit it out!” Husk asks losing patience.

“Charlie found out I’m a former exorcist,” she confesses guiltily.

There was a heart pause before they screamed and tackled her. Bombarding her with questions. I mean.. I did kinda think of it, but it was still surprising. I hand them the pie before setting my eyes on the bag they brought with them move from the loud noise.

“Uhh, Vaggie dear. I think your bag just move,” I alerted her.

“Did you smuggle some puppies?” Niffty asks excitedly.

“God, I hope not,” Husk grumbles.

Vaggie lets out a groan before getting up from the floor and zipped open their bags. We were greeted to the sight of fluffy feathery wings instead.

“YOU BROUGHT A BIRD!” Niffty shrieks trying to pick it up. However, it wasn’t as small as we thought it was when a head popped up from the ball of feathers, making Niffty scream and hide behind Angel startling him.

“Uhh, hi?” the person greets awkwardly trying to smile.

“What the fuck?! Why is there an angel in our bags?! How the fuck did you even squeeze in there?!” Vaggie screams holding the girl’s shoulders. “Oh shit, we’re gonna be in so much trouble.”

“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop shaking me first,” she responds with a laugh dizzy from from Vaggie’s actions. She shakes her head comically to clear her head and replies, “I heard that Heaven let in some folks from the Devildom, and I wanted to talk to you! So, I waited but then you arrived all angry, so I just hid in your luggage instead.”

Vaggie makes a face trying to comprehend the girl’s train of thoughts that led her here, with a hand in the air as if trying to say, ‘That doesn’t sound logical.’

The girl sighs and confesses, “Truth is, I wanted to come down here and find my parents. I’ve searched heaven for years and I didn’t find them. So, I took my chances here.”

Then at realization, I drop and knelt in front of the girl turning her head to face me. With tears in my eyes, I whisper, “It is you. It’s you! I missed you so much!”

“Mom!” she cries burying herself in my hug.

Around us another round of scream’s echo in the room unable to process the series of events that happened back-to-back. After calming everyone down and settling them down on the couch while Vaggie, Abby and I stood in front of them, somewhat like a class presentation.

“You’re a former exorcist?” Angel starts.

“Where’s your wings?” Niffty asks.

“I don’t have—”

“Did you ever think maybe she's sensitive about her lack of wings, just like her lack of tits?”

“Yeah. Where are your tits?” Niffty asks tugging at her shirt.

“sigh Any other questions?”

“Who’s the kid?”

“I’m Abigail Calliope. Daughter of Alastor and Miledy Calliope, and I’m not a kid!” Abby huffs.

“How old did you die anyway? You look pretty young though.”

“20. I got into an accident while volunteering,” she explains.

“Figures how you got into heaven. Kinda crazy how that batshit crazy radio demon has a daughter though,” Angel gestures with all four hands.

“You said it,” Husk murmurs downing a bottle of whiskey.

“Well, I did a lot of convincing,” I answer brushing Abby’s hair off her face. “I don’t regret a single thing.”

She gives me a smile before we see a green flash coming from upstairs. ‘My crazy husband did it,’ I thought in awe, getting the princess of hell to get a deal with him was surprising given that she was so on-guard around him.

“Who’s that?” Abby asks turning to me.

I give her a grin and answer, “Your father.”

Her eyes lit up finally getting to see her father after decades. Charlie and Alastor comes down and finds Abby. Surprised that an angel was here by herself.

“Who is—?”

“That can wait. I think you guys have something planned, we’ll talk on the way!” I say pushing Charlie out the door, Alastor and Abby behind us. I look behind me and find Abby being shy looking away from Alastor, while Alastor was eyeing her intently still not recognizing her.

“Wait! We can’t have her walk around the city with that look!” Charlie stops us, then turning to Abby. She casts a spell changing her clothes into a blue dress that was trendy these days along with demon horns headband.

“Your wings, dear,” I tell her which she immediately hides away.

“Sooo, who is she?” Charlie asks with Alastor next to her.

“When you came back from your trip, this little troublemaker slid into your luggage and travelled to hell here with you,” I say nipping Abby’s nose. “This is our daughter, Abigail.”

“Pleasure to meet you! Quite the please!” Abby greets with his father’s cadence shocking the both of them.

“I just went through a massive sense of déjà vu,” Charlie says holding her head before shaking Abby’s outstretched hand.

“Goodness! Sunshine! Look how much you’ve grown!” Alastor exclaims lifting Abby in his arms. “You’ve grown into such a beautiful lady.”

“Dad! I missed you so much,” she excitedly screams hugging her father which he welcomed with a gleeful laugh.

“Youuuu have a daughter???” Charlie drawls in shock pointing at Alastor who put down Abby.

“Is it that surprising?” Alastor says petting Abby’s head.

“YES!?” Charlie yells.

“How about we head to Cannibal Town now. We’re kinda wasting time now,” I say leading them down the road. “Isn’t this fun? We look like family!”

“What? Why are we going to cannibal town?” Charlie asks, Abby looking around confused and disturbed by the sights around her, before we arrived the quaint little town.

“There’s a friend of mine I think you should meet. It’s also a good opportunity to introduce Abby to her too!” Alastor says escorting Abby and leading in front of us.

“In Cannibal Town? But it’s, it’s… surprisingly nice here,” Charlie says changing her mind.

“Right? We actually have a residency here. We try to come by when we can. Reminds us of home,” I explain to the girls.

“Isn't it though? and it's all thanks to a very special someone,” Alastor says opening the door for us.

We see Rosie attending to her costumer before she notices us by the entrance, “Oh, my, stars! Do my eyes deceive me? Alastor. Alastor! Where have you been??? These halls really lost some of their sparkle without your lively presence and—," she notices me and says, “Miledy! Sweetheart! You haven’t called me in weeks!”

She glances the girls beside us and comments, “Oh. Who's this ya brought with you? Come now, Alastor, she's much too young for you! Oh I'm just kidding. I know you're an Ace in the hole.” I coughed a laugh at her, which she appreciated that someone got her joke.

“A what now?”

“But where are your manners mister? Introduce us why don't you?”

“Ahh, yes. Charlie, Abigail, this is Rosie, the most darling, delightful and dangerous Overlord this side of the Pentagram!” Alastor introduces Rosie.

“Oh! Always such a charmer.”

“And Rosie, it's my pleasure to introduce you to princess Charlie Morningstar. Daughter of Lucifer and heir to the throne of Hell!” Alastor pushes Charlie, then Abby, “and last but not least, this is Abigail Calliope, Miledy and I’s pride and joy!”

“How do you do?” Charlie greets nervously with a wave, while our daughter happily returns their high energy.

“Well, well! isn't this a regal surprise! Come in! Come in! Can I offer you somethin' to eat? I'm sure I have a leg around here or somethin'. Oh, what am I thinkin'? Small thing like you? You're probably watchin' your figure! How bout some nice pinkie fingers instead?” Rosie offers a box to the pair.

“Um...No. no, thank you, though,” Charlie says refusing for the both of them.

“Oh look at you!” Rosie gushes patting both of their heads, “so polite! Alastor, you could learn a thing o' two.”

“Well, sit down. Sit down. Tell Auntie Rosie what she can do for you. Ya know, Alastor. I got a premo-connect on a guy with about eight blocks of territory and not enough goons to run it. Prime pickin's for a deal to be made, my friend.” Rosie tells Alastor making a gesture.

“What does that mean, mom?” Abby asks me while we stood behind Charlie as they talked.

“Here in hell, demons grow their power by accumulating deals, these deals could be anything but the ultimate price they pay is their souls,” I explain to her, “I’m sorry you have to go through this, Abby. I know how drastic of a change this will be, so if you decide to go back to heaven, we’ll help you.”

She hastily shaking her head, refusing the suggestion, “As fun as it is there. It didn’t have you or dad,” she replies sincerely making me let out a sigh of relief then hugging her.

---later

“Now, fair warning. This group sticks together. So, in order to convince any of them, you'll need to convince all of them. And there's one in particular—" Rosie pauses thinking of the appropriate word.

“Uuuugh, Susan,” Alastor states in distate.

“Susan, who's a bit of an... uh—”

“Ornery old bitch?”

“That! She's tough, but win her over and the rest will be easy as pie. Ready?”

“I guess.”

Charlie goes off into an unenthusiastic speech, making me internally cringe paired with how the cannibals strongly reacted against her.

“FUCK YOU, YOU OLD BITCH!” Charlie screams flipping Susan off.

“Welp. Okay everyone! We’ll be back after a brief intermission!” I call over the microphone while Rosie drags a huffing Charlie backstage. “Any song requests?!”

While I was singing for the crowd while Charlie and Rosie sorted themselves, in the corner of my eye I see Alastor and Abby talking.

“I almost forgot how wonderfully mom sang,” Abby states looking at her mother in awe.

“Definitely one you grow to love even more with each and every song,” Alastor adds.

“Absolutely! I kept every recording I could get my hands on,” Abby replies enthusiastically.

Alastor laughs and tells her, “I heard you also kept old recordings of my radio shows.”

Abby blushes and confesses, “I was still young when you left so, I got every recording I could find just to remember how you sounded.”

Alastor sighs and give a small smile and pets her head, “I won’t go anywhere this time.”

Abby smiles and hugs his dad. Just then Rosie and Charlie come back looking better. I stand with my family while Alastor hands her his microphone. While we watched her sing more confidently than earlier, catching everyone’s attention. Abby looks at her amazed how she got them to join her.

“They're dancing along. They're singing her song,” Rosie sang her hands clasped together.

“Surprised? Why, I knew she could do it all along,” Alastor and I sang together.

“She's bound to pass the test as Princess of Hell. Like her Daddy she is madly power-fell!” we sang and danced together, making Abby gush at how we blended our voice together.

“She's filled with potential that I could guide,” Alastor looks at Charlie sinisterly.

“I concur!” Rosie and I sang slinging our elbows with Alastor.

“Stick with her, you'll be on the winning side.”

We lead the Cannibals to the hotel where we meet up with Vaggie who brought the weapons with her.

---later

We take Abby to our room where she immediately notices the forest, “Oh! This looks like the cabin we had.”

“Well, a replica of it,” Alastor says taking off his coat and putting it on a hanger in a closet.

“How was your first day here?” I ask her, pulling her to sit with me by the fireplace.

“It was definitely something,” she laughs off nervously, “But aside from the vulgarities, it seems like fun. And, I want to work here, at the hotel. Though I’m... different, I want to help sinners redeem themselves and reach heaven. Is… that okay?”

Alastor and I share a look before giving her a smile, “Of course it is, Sunshine. Why wouldn’t it be? We want you to do whatever you like, you’re free to do so. We’re family.”

Tears form in her eyes and drip down her cheeks, we gave her a big hug to comfort her. Finally, a family again.

TAGLIST:

@marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich

[the-hexfiles]

A Village Romance (Hunter x F!OC) Ch 1: Strangers

Chapter Rating: 16+ for one suggestive comment made towards the end, and the overall tone further chapters may have -- If I choose to write further chapters.

Content: Fluffy intro to what I will hope to be a friends to lovers romance. Teacher OC because we all know Hunter would love a partner good with kids. First person narrative cause I'm lazy lol.

Wordcount: ~1580 because I haven't written in months and I need to ease back into it.

A/N: Hi friends, I've been gone a while but decided to jump back into ff. I want to start working on other creative pieces but I have Clone Brainrot so ff it is I guess. I haven't been writing at all so if it sucks, I know.

Song: Down by the Water by Abigail Lapell

The first night Hunter and I spent together, we were strangers.

Heavy storm clouds had swallowed the sun hours ago, and the draft through the schoolhouse in town sent chills through all of my students. By the time all of my students were gone, the rain had begun and my speeder bike was already soaked. The air got colder and the wind picked up the further I made it up the mountain. It was drizzling, the raindrops turning to ice on the leaf litter and my jacket. The wind ripped through the trees, shaking the limbs directly above me, and howling through the greenhouse. The windows on the greenhouse were frosting over, the tarp covering my firewood thrashed, and my potted crops tipped in the garden, splattering mud everywhere. I rushed to secure everything.

I was kneeling in the mud, trying to salvage one of my plants when I heard a branch snap on the edge of the clearing that made up my yard. I paused and looked around, but didn’t see anything. I scooped up the plant and brought it to the greenhouse. I didn’t see the faint shadow cross the windows inside, or the door. As I came around the corner to walk inside I almost walked directly into someone, which is horrifying when you live alone on the side of a mountain. He was broad-shouldered, half a skull painted on his helmet, and a full head taller than me. He had also startled me so badly, I’d apparently dropped my plant, since he was standing there holding it with mud splashed on his armor. “Sorry,” we said simultaneously. And we stood there for a moment, in the rain, staring at one another. Like morons. A little girl’s voice called from the other side of the cabin, “Hunter?” Little footsteps ran closer until they reached the doorway, “Hunter did you – oh. Hello!” I looked at the little blonde and smiled, then back at who I then knew was Hunter: “Can I have my plant back?” I asked, pointing to my sad little potted crop in his hands. “Oh, yes,” he said, handing it back to me. I walked into the greenhouse and tried to quickly stabilize the crop so I could gather the remaining plants outside. “You’re the pretty teacher! The one in town! Miss Tala!” The little girl said excitedly. “Omega!” Hunter scolded her. I looked up at them with some surprise, “And you’re my…stalkers?” I said with a raise of my eyebrows, half joking. I did recognize them from the market square. Some whispers had gone around of some clones that settled on Pabu and were working with a couple of traders. “N-no! We’ve been working for Mr Tanaka, he told us who you were,” I could hear the embarrassment in Hunter’s voice. Omega looked up at him, giving him a knowing smirk. “We were just passing through when we came across your cabin.” “You wouldn’t happen to know where to find these, would you?” Omega showed me her data pad, a familiar sight on the screen: Storm mushrooms. “There are some that pop up nearby, but you’re running out of time. Come help me with this, and we can go.” I nodded towards the door. Omega helped me carry the last of my crops inside while Hunter secured the tarp over the wood. Hunter walked over to us as we locked up the greenhouse. “We didn’t properly introduce ourselves, I’m Hunter, that’s Omega.” He held out his hand towards me. I took it, “Tala.”

We walked single file down a game trail towards a set of downed trees, whose trunks were sparkling with the bright blue mushrooms. I took out my knife and sliced off a small one, cutting it into three pieces. I popped one piece into my mouth and handed Omega and Hunter the other two. “Why are these considered dangerous?” Omega asked, snacking on the piece I handed her. The three of us started slicing away mushrooms and tucking them into Omega’s satchels. “Inexperienced foragers underestimating how fast the weather changes up here,” I replied. “A few have died in the past or gotten very close to it. Now most people who hire foragers usually have shelters and cabins near sites so there’s a safe place to weather the storm after harvest. I didn’t know Mr Tanaka had a cabin this far up.” I looked at the two of them, and to find them looking at me a little dumbfounded. Hunter and Omega looked at each other, “We’re staying in town,” Hunter said. The drizzle turned to rain, a few snowflakes fluttered down with it and Omega was doing her best not to shiver. “Well, lucky for you I know a place,” I said, quickly slicing away at the mushrooms.The wind almost ripped my back door off its hinges when I opened it. The three of us shuffled inside as the first inch of snow started to cover the ground. I pointed Omega to the refresher to start getting out of her wet clothes, and Hunter towards the fireplace to stoke up the fire I’d prepared, while I ran upstairs to find clothes. He was looking at some photos on the mantel when I came downstairs with clothes for him and Omega. I set her clothes outside of the bathroom door, and walked over to him. His helmet sat on the kitchen counter, and his scarf had ended up bundled around Omega’s head on the hike home. The fire was still low, casting a soft light over his features. I had seen him before, multiple times, but I’d never really got to appreciate him. His wide shoulders made his waist criminally small. His bandana, and thus his hair, was slightly disheveled, and he looked tired. In the forest, I’d missed an opportunity to watch him work with the knife he carried, but I watched as they rested on his hips and moved to pick up different photographs. Not wanting to get caught ogling, I walked up and handed him the dry clothes. He looked down at them, a frown briefly flashing across his features. “Your husband going to be okay with me borrowing these?” I snorted, then upon realizing I snorted, I laughed, “Sorry. That’s probably one of the many reasons I don’t have a husband. What made you think that?” “These are a man’s and you got them from upstairs,” he gave a short laugh of relief. “It’s not an unreasonable assumption.” “Those are my brother-in-laws, and no he won’t mind.”

Omega stepped out of the refresher, bundled up in a set of my pajamas, looking clean and quite content. She settled under some blankets in a chair by the fire, while Hunter and I split off into different refreshers to clean up and warm up ourselves. When I came down the stairs, Omega was curled up in Hunter’s lap asleep on the couch, and he had his head tilted back with his eyes closed. His bandana was off letting his wet curls flop wherever they pleased. The fire crackled, warm light flickering across their faces as they dozed, faces so relaxed and peaceful. I sat in my armchair and admired the pair for a moment; until Hunter’s eyes opened and immediately found mine. They were a warm gray in the firelight, and very tired. “We left you some room over here,” he whispered. “We’ll be warmer together.” “I don’t sleep with strangers,” I said as I grabbed my book off of the end table. When I looked back up at him, his cheeks were flushed and he averted his gaze. “Right. Sorry that was forward of me.” “It’s nothing against you–” I said, moving my head into his line of sight to get his attention. “No, I understand,” he said, still looking away. “I don’t really sleep much anyways, strangers or no strangers.” He looked at me again from the corner of his eye and gave me a half-hearted smile. Snuggling into the couch he wished me a quiet goodnight, leaned his head back, and fell asleep.Omega stirred early, while the end of the storm was blowing through. Hunter awoke to the smell of breakfast. Well, more accurately, to Omega burning half the breakfast and the two of us giggling about it. Maybe my staring should have told the both of us at the time that I was at least attracted to him. But he was too busy smiling at Omega’s tragic attempt to make eggs to notice my ogling. He looked so warm to the touch, standing there half-asleep in wrinkled sleepwear, smoothing Omega’s unruly curls while she made another attempt to cook breakfast. I stopped staring and joined them, and eventually the three of us had something edible. The rest of the morning was spent playing card games together. By the afternoon the storm had passed, and they were dressed to leave. Omega gave me a hug before she bounded down the front steps of my cabin, leaving Hunter and I alone for a moment on the porch. He held out his hand, “Thanks for all your help.” I took it, “Anytime. See you around town then?”

He gave it a short shake and nodded his head with a soft “yeah” as he turned to leave. Before he reached the last step I said his name, making him turn back to me. “Don’t be a stranger,” I said. And a hint of color came to his cheeks.

[yeehawbvby]

FAWY Minis | Ch. 5 (Magnus Rasmodius POV)

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Notes: This one’s during the flower dance chapter, as well as 18 and 19!

I never really considered Magnus’ inner dialogue much, mostly just focusing on magicky stuff with him, so I wanted to play around with that. I feel like he’d be a bit insecure, maybe even anxious, when it comes to fitting in, romance, etc. He’s just good at hiding it. I tried to portray that a bit.

Btw, g/n = grandpa’s name. Wasn’t sure if y’all would want a named grandpa or to insert your own grandpa in there, so I kept it customizable to be safe!

I hope you enjoy x

[If you're new here - hi! Please see chapter 18 of the main story (below) for a visual reference to the wizard - I refer to a modded version throughout the fic!! I do recommend you read at least up to chapter 31 of the main story before reading this though, so as to avoid spoilers.]

Falling Away With You (main story)

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

It’s her.

It’s… it’s actually her.

I’d overheard the discussion of a new resident moving onto Mooncrest during one of my periodic visits to Gus’ kitchen. I’d heard the assumptions — which I now know to be true, given her appearance — that it was going to be (g/n)’s granddaughter. 

How could I not have foreseen how significant she would be to me, though?

Oftentimes the spirits give me somewhat of a hint, a little spark of my senses to let me know if something important is happening. Something worth looking into. Something like this, damn it. A wee reminder to not only be more aware of the world around me outside of my work, but to perhaps take the time and effort to foresee what’s to come in my near future.

I feel a subtle vibration in my fingers. 

Are they toying with me? Is that what this is?

Feeling the zaps of their rebuttal through my limbs, I come to the conclusion that they are. 

But… why wait..?

More tingling. 

That was rhetorical, you obviously can’t answer m—

One last buzz, and I feel the spirits’ presence fade. Sigh.

Cheeky little phenomena, they are. I can only hope to ever commune with them in a plane of existence where we can see one another. For now… I might as well be a loon, telepathically speaking with invisible sprites that communicate through touch above all else.

…As though this scenario as a whole — now paying particular attention to not just my potential daughter, but my soulmate as well, all from a row of particularly bountiful bushes — makes me any less of a loon.

I shake the feeling that I’m being strange and that this is probably unnecessary , and I focus on the task at hand. I still am keen on determining whether or not I’ve any relation to Abigail. No use giving up now that I’m here.

My eyes flit to the girl, her hair as vibrant as my own. She’s laughing with her friends, tentatively sipping the punch I saw Pamela spiking with cheap liquor earlier.

I wish I could get close enough to see if there’s any bit of an arcane link connecting us. I desire answers, damn it, not to spend every chance I get contemplating my lineage while hiding just out of view.

I shut my eyes, rubbing them with a thumb and forefinger. 

Just when I believe I can calm my high emotions, my mind wanders to another circumstance that’s haunted me for years. Not nearly as many, but I digress. 

For Abigail to be friends with Sebastian was not exactly improbable, but it is funny, in an ironic way.

Of course Abigail would befriend my former apprentice. One I was rather fond of, at that.

I observe him for a moment. It’s rare to see him in anything brightly colored, aside from occasions such as this, where it’s a requirement. He looks quite handsome, if I do say so.

Is it silly of me to wonder if he’s ever thought the same of me? Is this just another instance of my insecurities controlling my thought process? Or is that a normal thing to think about, and I’ve merely forgotten, given how long it’s been since my last romantic endeavor?

That’s unimportant, I suppose.

Although… he must’ve had some reason for abruptly halting his apprenticeship with me. 

Perhaps to him I was no more than some wretch living in a tower, far from Pelican Town’s main population for reasons unbeknownst to him. He could have asked, of course, but I wouldn’t exactly put it against him to keep his opinions to himself. I mean, look at me. I don’t resemble any of these townsfolk, do I? And of course here I am, spying on them rather than partaking in their activities firsthand, and I spend most of my time in my home when I could be out here socializing, and I’m sure my lack of socialization with non-elementals could be off-putting.

Sure, those who know of me don’t typically enjoy my presence, but…

I don’t know.

God. Now I’m a loon who’s spying and in a vicious pit of self-hatred that I buried myself in from the outskirts of the event.

Lovely.

Perhaps I should go… I’m not being very productive in my research anyway.

I chance one last look towards our newest farmer. I feel another tingle. A pull to her that’s far too tempting to succumb to. As though I want to just leap onto the field and say something to her. Anything.

How do I even go about getting closer to someone I’ve no reason to commune with? Marie worked at a shop, so it was quite easy to befriend her. The others… I had nary a clue where they were or what they were doing. This is an entirely new situation for me.

The farmer’s eyes flicker to mine. I feel the same thunderous commotion in my limbs and my belly as I did when Marie and I first met. God above, this girl has the same bright flush to her cheeks, the same gentle yet piercing gaze… which is… on me…

Oh. 

Shit.

My eyes widen, as do hers. 

She appears to be just as compelled to gravitate to me as I am to her. She takes half of a step forward before looking around at the townspeople and securing herself back in her corner. Thank goodness. If she were to come over here, it would only draw more suspicion as to why the resident recluse in the woods is staring at all these people…

“I know that look, Mag.”

I let gaze shift to Linus’ as his words resonate in my head and can practically feel my irises’ change of hue. I’ve been caught by him as well. Thank the spirits he’s a friend — he knows why I’m here.

“You do indeed.”

“So, (y/n), huh?”

Is that her name, then? It’s lovely…

“Yes,” I answer.

“Is it an attraction, or do you think she’s..?”

“Absolutely. Both.”

“Better get going before you freak her out, then.”

“As if I haven’t already, you know damn well she’s looking at me right now .”

He grins huffs out a silent chuckle before turning to face the dancers once more. “I’m just saying, you could be a tad bit more subtle, boy. Go.”

I sigh. I can still feel (y/n)’s eyes boring into me as I teleport back home, feeling morose rather than embarrassed.

Later in the evening, I succumb to my desire to more formally meet her and go through the lengthy, exhausting process of searching into the future. 

I’m overjoyed to learn that she’ll come to me. That is far less pressure. It gives me time to prepare, too. To look more presentable, or clean, or… I don’t know. I know I can’t prevent the inevitable, but I don’t want to make the process unenjoyable for either of us, obviously. 

When (y/n) eventually does arrive, I’m delighted to learn that not only is she an absolutely lovely being inside and out, but she’s magically inclined as well. I use this as a cover for her impulses to visit my tower:

“One may grow connected to the elements — hence, why you were so heavily drawn toward my abode over time,” I tell her.

It’s not entirely deceitful, and the last thing I want to do is scare her by proclaiming that our destiny brought us to this very moment. 

I lean into being “old” and “wise” as well, referring to her and other townspeople of roughly her age as “young.” I overdo it though, I believe, as she calls me out on it. I don’t take any issue in revealing my true age given I’d likely be closer to her age — maybe a decade or so older — if I were a human. 

I catch her staring a few times throughout our first meeting. I’ve no way to discern whether it’s due to attraction, or if she’s merely judging me, but it piques my curiosity either way. I probe her thoughts a few times for good measure — which (y/n) calls me out on as well, so I know now that I must show restraint. It’s mostly habitual, and I say that much. She understands.

She seems exceptionally sweet and caring. Awfully curious, for sure. A little strange too, but who am I to judge? I’m rather strange myself. And she’s funny, to boot, unless it’s my own giddiness leading me to assume so.

When she leaves, I’m sure to give her a proper send off. Perhaps it’s dramatic, but I’m inclined to believe she enjoys how eccentric this situation as a whole has been. She seemed awfully giddy herself, at times.

“There are many adventures ahead for you and I,” I project before she wanders too far. “I truly look forward to your company, (y/n).”

[someloserjay]

Concerts and Tequila PT.2

Tw!! NSFW mentions of drinking

This is the first smut I’ve ever written and writing from a different genders POV wasn’t a great first choice any constructive criticism is highly appreciated.

Part two to my other fan-fiction under the same name

Sebastian POV

Looking at her hazey eyes makes thoughts run through my head, hell my head is spinning. Doing anything right now isn't okay though, right? I ask myself. I mean we’ve both had so much to drink. No, I can't do anything. I'll wait. I have too. I realize I’ve just been looking over [Y/N]’s face as I’ve been stuck in my own head thinking. Before I can make another coherent thought a pair of warm lips collide with mine. The hand that had been on her chin falls as the lingering smell of tequila and some sort of fruity chapstick flood over me and I’m frozen for what feels like years before my body takes over and my hand moves to rest on the back of her neck. My eyes close and I relax into the kiss letting my mind forget its worries for this moment. Her hand tangles in the back of hair. Before I can even realize I’ve pulled her into my lap as the kiss continues, my hand gently holding onto her waist just under her hoodie. Her hands tangle themselves deeper in my hair, one of my hands hesitantly, creeps up her skin following the shape of her. She’s warm between the alcohol, the hoodie, and I’m sure because of the situation. My hand stops when it reaches just under her breast. I remember the conversation I had just had with myself and run my hand back down to where it had been. Eventually we pull away for some air, we rest our foreheads against each other as we breathe.

“I’ve waited so long to do that. Sucks it took 20 cc's of liquid confidence.” She says under her breath with a laugh, yoba I will never get tired of her laugh. Her voice is still horse and going in and out from screaming but it’s still the prettiest thing I’ve heard. I fall back into the bed, my head spinning a smile plastered on my face now, [Y/N] promptly climbs off my lap and lands beside me, her head finding its home in the crook of my neck. My hand finds itself gently rubbing circles on her waist.

“I didn’t know you felt like that.” I say trying not to watch her facial movement, I'm totally failing. I’m definitely staring.

“I didn’t want to mess anything up that we already had.” She mutters as she plays with a strand of my hair. I watch her eyes dart around my face waiting, no, begging for confirmation that her boldness hasn’t ruined our friendship.

“[Y/N], I’ve had a thing for you since we talked at the beach that night.” I say, her eyes light up the drunken haze still coating them. She yawns, it has been a long night, I glance at the clock. Shit it’s practically two am.

“Let’s get to bed.” I say standing up to go turn the light off and double check the door is locked. Sam and Abigail are sneaky bastards, but I owe them. As I turn I see [Y/N] climbing under the covers of the bed we had just been laying on. I can’t help but to smile. A big goofy drunk smile, yoba I’m going to feel so sick in the morning. How does [Y/N] drink with us on Fridays and just get up and do farm work. The thought bogs my mind as I walk back to the beds and without a second thought I undo the covers beside [Y/N]. She gives a very tired smile. She turns to be in bed and rests her head onto my chest, I slip my arm under her head. Can she hear my heart racing, I really hope not. I watch as she falls asleep, placing an very gentle kiss on her forehead, not not to wake her before going to sleep myself.

[Y/N] has the worst alarm sound, why did she pick the worse one, my head hurts. I groan as I sit up, I was right I feel like I got hit by a bus. Speaking of i have to ride one today. I toss my legs over the side of the bed and stretch. Before I know it, we’ve all checked out of the hotel and are climbing into the rental car to go return it and catch the bus.

“[Y/N] how in Yoba’s name are you so chipper?” Abigail asks as she closes the car door and gets passed the aux cord.

“Working the farm makes you a morning person, what can I say?” She says with a smile on. She puts the car in reverse and we get on the road. The three of us are dealing with different hangover symptoms except her. How is she fine? I know if I ask it’ll just be something like ‘farmers don’t have time for hangovers.’

The bus finally pulls into the stop at town and everyone hobbles off. Everyone says their goodbyes as Abigail and Sam head back to their houses.

“Well I better get back and check on the animals.” [Y/N] says

“Wait, uh, about last night?” I ask my confidence left when the hangover hit me.

“Yeah, you uh wanna come by later this afternoon and we’ll chat over some prairie king?” She asks as she tosses her backpack over her shoulder.

“8?” I ask and she nods, turning on her heel towards her farm.

——8pm——

I take a drag from the freshly lit cigarette, blowing it out as I glance up at the clouds covering the sky. [Y/N] should be happy rainy days are good for the farm, quieter at least. The walk is nice and quiet. It gives me time to think what am I going into? We both confessed our feelings. I’m confused and nervous about what’s going to happen. Are we going to pretend nothing happened? Before I know it I’ve arrived at the farm and my cigarette is finished making my nerves a small bit better. I make a straight shot to the door and knock the door while shoving the burnt out cigarette butt into the pack. I’ll toss it later, I think to myself. T my he wooden door creaks open as a tired [Y/N] stands in front of the door with a huge smile. She ushers me inside, on the coffee table sits a pizza box from the saloon and some jojo colas. She has pillows set on the floor to sit on and controllers set beside each side. She closes the door behind me as her cat comes over to rub against my leg before curling beside a space heater in the kitchen.

“So uh.” She says breaking the silence as we sit, the theme music for prairie king softly playing in the background

“I didn’t think it would be this awkward sober.” I say laughing out a breath, my hand rubbing the back of my neck.

“Look things don’t have to get all weird between us, if you don’t want to move forward anywhere that's totally fine. I get it completely. The friendship we have is great and if that’s all it’s going t-“

“You’re adorable when you ramble you know.” I say trying to not let on that I’m just as nervous as her. She begins stuttering over words trying to put a sentence together.

“Seriously, I like you [Y/N], and I want to move forward on that.” I say my hand moving to rest on hers. She smiles and I set my free hand on her cheek, gently pulling her forward until our lips meet. This kiss is much gentler, the passion is still there, it's not the same. It’s better. The food can wait, same with the game. As if it’s muscle memory, one of her hands rests on shoulder and the other finds its way to my hair. I pull away just for a moment.

“Do you want to?” I ask, my eyes meeting hers.

“Right now, more than anything.” She says before reconnecting the kiss. That’s all I needed as I guide her back onto my lap as I did last night. She straddles me as my hands find themselves exploring. They find the hem of her shirt, I start to lift it when it reaches her arm we break the kiss to let it slip off her head. My eyes drop

“I’ll be honest, I didn't expect anything to happen.” She says with a laugh a plain bra matching her skin tone faces me.

“I don’t care what it looks like.” I say grabbing the hem of my own top and pulling it off, tossing it with hers. She places her hands on my chest and the other on the back of my head. She pulls me forward back into a kiss, my hands trail up her spine until I hit the back of the bra pushing the two sides together, the clasp falls. Both of our breathing is unsteady as she pulls the straps off her shoulders. I’m assuming it lands near our other clothes. I’m quick with moving my hands to her front, she’s so warm. I feel a bit bad, I know my hands are cold, they always are, she doesn’t seem to mind. I have one hand reach to hold her breast as I rub circles around her nipple with my thumb. Her hips buck forward in response to the touch, and a quiet moan was added to the kiss. My own body is very well aware of the situation. I start to fiddle with the strings on her sweat pants until the bow she had it tied in comes loose. I’m cursing my jeans for being tighter than I want at the moment. She pulls away, breathing heavily

“Ugh, did you want to go to my room?” She asks as she slowly works the button on my jeans.

“Do you?” She nods, standing helping me up as she leads me to the bedroom. The door clicking shut behind us. She quickly steps out of her pants, her underwear falling with them. She climbs onto the bed as I’m kicking off jeans and boxers. My cheeks flush, she’s sitting against the headboard. She pulls me back in for a kiss before my nerves can catch up to me. One hand is beside her hip steadying myself, with the other I start to gently rub her thigh, quickly move up to tease her entrance. She gasps and whines, her hips push down towards my hand. I understand and slowly push two fingers in, starting them at a steady comfortable pace. I put my head in the space between her neck and shoulder being as gentle as possible as I bite and kiss at her neck leaving marks down to her breasts before kissing down her stomach. She gasps as my tongue presses against her sensitive bud. Moans slip from her lips as her hands rush to my hair pulling gently towards herself. After a couple minutes of this her thighs push together against my head slightly and I pull away.

“Not yet sweetheart.” I say in a borderline growl in her ear as I pull her down so she’s laying under me she yelps as she’s pulled from her sitting position. She smiles at me with lust filled eyes as I line myself and slowly push myself into her until our skin meets.

“Fuck…” I mutter as Im fully inside the woman underneath me now. Her legs wrap around my waist and pull me down from my neck into a kiss. I start at a quick but steady pace. I pull away from the kiss and look at her as she moans under me and holds on to my shoulders for some sort of handle on things. It’s not long before her thighs tighten around me and try to keep my stationary as she rides her peak out.

“I love you.” I say wiping some hair from the side of her cheek as I keep thrusting throughout her orgasm. I push myself up so I can see her fully under me, my hands going to each breast playing and gently tugging. I quickly pull out the warm liquid landing on her stomach and thigh. I touch my forehead to hers for a moment, before reaching over her to the tissues on her nightstand carefully cleaning her off. I toss them in an trash can she has in her room before laying beside her. We’re both panting as she cuddles beside me.

“I love you too.” She says smiling.

“Why don’t we get cleaned up, eat the food you have ready and play the prairie king.” I say sitting up, she nods and sits up with me. I think I'm starting to love Pelican town. And of course [Y/N].

[fayeriee]

Different

and so i did 

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fandom: the quarry  relationship: none? slight nick furcillo x reader if you want  genre: angst(ish), then a bit of crack warning/s: violence, blood, nick being touchy and then rude, coarse language word count: 2.2k (whoops) notes: gender neutral reader. only one use of ‘Y/N’. no physical descriptors used (it is mentioned that you have hair, though). sorry bald friends ♡

more notes at the end (i explain some stuff that I didn’t want to spoil here) i hope you all like it and thank you to everyone who replied to my original post ♡

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The night had gone badly extremely fast. A sputtering minivan engine had caused you and your fellow camp counsellors to stay at Hackett’s Quarry for another night. At first, Chris Hackeett’s (your boss for the summer) panic over it had seemed like an overreaction - but after Nick and Abigail were attacked by “some kind of animal” and Jacob showed up briefly to say that he had run into some kind of hunter, you were beginning to understand. 

Things took another turn when you stood outside with most of the others (Jacob had left again to try and find Emma), looking down at the pool you’d been using all summer, that now served as Kaylee Hackett’s final resting place - turning the clear water around her body red. 

You gasp, and take a stuttering step backwards. Your shoulders knock into a firm chest, and before you can turn to see who it is, long arms are wrapped around your waist and pull you into a warm - hot - body. 

A face lowers into you neck, hot breath hitting your skin in heavy pants. 

“N-Nick?” Abi mutters, looking at you awkwardly. Your eyes widen. Nick? What is he doing? Didn’t he and Abi…

“Fuck off, Abigail,” his accented voice grumbles, close to your ear. 

Your eyebrows furrow and you begin to try wiggling away from his grip. 

“Nick, let go,” you demand sternly, hyper-aware of everyone’s eyes now locked on to the two of you. 

“You smell so good,” Nick mutters, pressing his nose further into the junction of your neck and shoulder. His arms go from firmly holding your waist to curling around your stomach like vines, his chest pressing against your back. 

“Nick, I’m serious! Get off!” you exclaim, fingers digging into his forearms as you attempt to pry him away. You could feel the fast beating of your heart in your throat. Nick’s behaviour is not just uncomfortable, it’s extremely out of character. 

“Hey, man…” Ryan mutters from beside you, shotgun still in his hands as he looks at you worriedly. Nick’s arms tighten around you in response, and you swear you heard him growl. 

“I want to taste you,” Nick hums, you can feel his lips moving against your skin. 

Heat rushes through you, and you can’t tell if it’s from some kind of indignity or… something else. 

“Woah,” Dylan mumbles, his eyebrows raised high. 

Abi lets out a small, sad sound, and Kaitlyn places a comforting hand on her shoulder. You look at the two women desperately, your fingers finally getting between Nick’s arms and your body. 

You don’t want to be too brash, Nick is injured - probably in shock - but then there’s a sharp and sudden pain just above your collarbone. 

You let out a screech, mostly from surprise, as your skin gives way and is punctured.

Your body reacts instinctively, any friendly favour lost as you roughly rip Nick’s arms away. 

Dylan would tell you much later that you looked like ‘a ninja’, but all you can feel in the moment is your body stepping and turning away from Nick before you lash out and push him. 

You watch in horror and disgust as Nick falls backwards into the pool with Kaylee’s dead body. 

It’s silent for a long, worrying moment before Nick finally surfaces, yelling and screaming like the water was actually acid. 

But as pain throbs through your neck, you can’t find it in yourself to feel bad. 

“Did that fucker bite you?!” Kaitlyn yells in surprise as she takes a step forward to comfort you - Ryan and Dylan awkwardly pulling Nick out of the pool. 

“I-I think so, yeah,” you stutter, shaken by the whole thing. Your hand rises to the spot on your neck, and you immediately hiss as the stimulation causes the pain to blossom brighter. 

You pull your hand back, surprised by the amount of blood coating your fingers. 

“Are you sure? The marks aren’t… blunt,” Abi notes worriedly, assessing your wound alongside Kaitlyn. Before you can think properly about what she means, Dylan is piping up. 

“Uh, Nick is really cold. Like, freezing.”

Ryan nods in agreement, but still regards Nick’s shivering body with caution. 

“Let’s get inside the poolhouse. Nick can get dry and I’ll try and find something for you,” Kaitlyn instructs, looking at you as she finishes. You nod in agreement, and concede yourself to her care. 

*** 

Nick was laying alone on the floor with a space heater while you and the others sit in a corner to discuss what had just happened (including finding Kaylee’s body and the lady with the eyepatch). 

Your wound had gone from simply being painful to… Burning. 

From your neck, it felt like you were being burnt from the inside out. And it had started to spread throughout your entire body, like the bite is the fuse and your body is the bomb. 

Your senses feel focused. You can smell… A lot of iron. Blood. Yours. Nick’s. Dylan’s. Even Abi was bleeding slightly from a scrape on her arm caused by an outreaching tree branch. 

You hear a call of your name by a gruff and trembling voice. You look over, Nick looking back at you pleadingly. 

“C-could you come here? Please, I-I want to apologise,” he rasps. You hesitate, taking a quick glance at the others. Kaitlyn and Dylan shrug - not seeing the harm, Ryan stares at Nick intensely - clearly waiting for him to do something, and Abi looks very concerned - not wanting you to get hurt again. 

You sigh as you get up and go to Nick hesitantly, eyeing his every movement. From the dark veins that cover his face, to the slight shudder of his chest as he breathes. 

You kneel next to him, pushing the space heater away for your own comfort. He didn’t seem to be wet anymore - definitely didn’t smell wet - but even if he was, you already feel like you’re about to melt from the inside out, and the heater is not helping. 

“I-I’m sorry… For before,” Nick mutters, looking up at you from his spot laying on the ground. You look away awkwardly. 

“Uh… Yeah. Y-You were probably just in shock… right?” you chuckle nervously. You want him to nod and agree, because up until about fifteen minutes ago you had liked Nick. He was a sweet, funny guy that was always soft spoken and gentle with the kids. He’d even remembered that you disliked certain foods when he cooked for you and the camp. 

You can hear Nick swallow. 

“Y-yeah… C-can I ask you something?” his voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him clearly. 

“Sure,” you shrug, wanting him to keep talking to distract you from the sizzling heat in your veins. It’s getting worse, and your joints are beginning to ache like you’re being stretched out, spread thin. 

“Do you like me?”

You blink, surprised. Does he mean…? No, surely not. Literally everyone has been talking about how Nick and Abi like each other - and he’d chased after her during truth or dare. 

You come to the conclusion that he was using ‘like’ as a general term. 

“Sure! You’re nice, and thoughtful, and-” he cuts you off. 

“That’s not- ugh… that’s such- such a copout answer,” he scoffs, and even in the low light you can see him roll his eyes. 

Heat burns your throat. You’re angry. More than you can ever remember being. 

“If that’s what you think,” you snap in annoyance, your arms still aching as you cross them against your chest. Nick’s eyebrows furrow. 

“You’re not really very smart, are you?” his lips are beginning to curl, snarling with each word. 

“Excuse me?!” your voice is gravelly, and it almost comes out like a bark. 

Kaitlyn, Ryan, Dylan and Abi have gone quiet, looking over at the two of you. 

“You’re so dumb, honestly. The most clueless idiot,” Nick sneers, dark eyes glaring up at you. 

You make a move to stand up, and an insult dies on your tongue when Nick grabs your biceps roughly to stop you. His skin is as hot as yours - you’re sure that if you were in a cartoon you both would be steaming like a kettle. 

You both stare at each other, wondering who will be the first to do something. It’s Nick. He tugs you roughly towards him, moving lithely to get his legs under you. He springs you away with a kick, and your senses explode when your back makes harsh contact with the wall. 

Your vision is overcome by grey static, the room falling away as you writhe on the ground. All you can hear are your own screams of pain as it feels as if you’re being torn apart, limb from limb. 

A hand is placed on your shoulder, intended to be comforting, but it just burns brighter against the inferno of your body, making you scream louder and jerk away from the touch. 

Then, your mind goes completely blank. 

“Ohoh~ you’re quite different, aren’t you?” 

An old lady’s voice floats through your head. You can’t exactly think straight enough for words, but every thought is a question mark. 

“Hm… Maybe you could be of use. If you kill to protect those friends of yours…” 

She pauses with a small hum, like she’s thinking something over. 

You’re hungry. You want to run. 

“Yes, protect them from those wretched hunters. Murderers! That’s you want to do, isn’t it. We can definitely use this to our advantage…” 

Her voice fades and everything comes back into focus. 

Your body doesn’t hurt anymore, and while you’re still relatively warm, it doesn’t burn anymore. 

A scream pierces your ears, and you turn to complain, only to see Abi being held up against the wall by… Something. 

It stands on its hind legs, seven or eight feet tall, with elongated limbs that end in razor sharp claws. Its face is mostly teeth and tongue, which are snapping in Abi’s face as she cries and tries to push it away. 

Anger fills you at seeing your friend in danger, and, with bravery not entirely your own, you leap forward. Instinct drives you, and before you really know which parts of your body are doing what, your jaw snaps down onto the thing’s arm. Using your leverage, you push against the ground to pull the creature’s arm away from Abi. 

She falls to the ground when released, and quickly scrambles across the ground to regroup with Kaitlyn, Dylan and Ryan. 

The thing turns its focus on you, trying to pull its arm free. A growl rumbles in your throat, and your teeth clench harder before you shake your head harshly, the muscle under your teeth ripping. 

The taste of blood fills your mouth, and a very quiet voice tells you that the creature you’re attacking is Nick. 

You let go, and the creature doesn’t look for a further fight, crashing through the window and running away with a howl. 

You watch the window for a few more moments. Even though you hear the retreating footsteps, you need to make sure it doesn’t return. 

“Is that a fucking dog?!” Dylan’s voice exclaims from behind you. 

You turn around to look at your group of, fortunately, safe friends. But they’re all looking at you strangely. 

“It’s way too big to be a dog,” Kaitlyn scoffs, but she doesn’t look away from you. Confusion fills you, and you glance over your shoulder to try and find said ‘dog’, but there’s nothing there. 

Oh, there’s a tail. 

Upon noticing it, it starts to move, shaking from side to side. It’s large, and very fluffy. 

“Like a dire wolf!” Dylan chirps, sounding excited. You look away from the tail to watch him, and he meets your eyes with his own wide ones. He still smells like blood, but it's not as fresh as before, which is slightly reassuring. 

“Like from Game of Thrones?” Abi asks, still looking nervous. 

You go to take s tep forward, wanting to comfort her and reassure her that Monster-Nick is gone. 

But as soon as you do, everyone edges backwards - looking scared. 

“Guys?” you try to question, but all that comes out is a drawn out whine. You go silent quickly, eyes wide. 

“Aw,” Abi softens, holding her hand out towards your face. When you go to slap it away (insulted), however, you see your hand. That is… Not quite a hand anymore. A very large fucking paw is what you’re moving instead. What… the fuck?

Turning around, you realise the interesting tail from before is, in fact, yours. 

Ah, fuck.

“Um, guys… Where did Y/N go?” Ryan asks, looking at a spot on the ground just behind you that was covered in blood and fur that looked to be the same colour as your hair. 

Things are beginning to add up for the others just as they have for you. 

You’d let out a little bark at the sound of your name, getting everyone’s attention. 

“Are… you…?” Dylan is the first to entertain the thought, looking at  you in amazement. Everyone lets out a sound between a laugh, a gasp, and a groan when you nod your head up and down. 

“Then… the thing that attacked Abi… Was that Nick?” Kaitlyn asks, looking unsettled when you nod again. 

“So… why are you a friendly, fluffy… ‘wolf’, while Nick and those… other ones are… not?” Ryan asks awkwardly. You try to shrug, and while it doesn’t feel entirely right, they seem to get the point. 

You all stand there for a moment, looking at each other in disbelieving silence. 

You’re interrupted by a knock at the door. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

HEHEHHE thank you for reading! 

A few things for clarification! 

So, when Nick bites you, he has sharp teeth like Emma does just before she turns (if she’s alone in the storm shelter and infected). In this story, Nick’s turning was delayed by his dip into the water, which is why you both turn at the same time. 

With the reader and Nick being really hot, that’s taken from when Max is turning, he says that he’s really hot and asks Laura if she’s hot. 

We also know that it’s possible to become infected if someone who is infected bites you even before they turn, since Ryan still gets infected and heals when Laura bites him (before she turns) to save him. 

The old lady voice that you hear is Eliza (the tarot card lady you see between chapters). She calls you different and the reason behind that is... whatever you want. Maybe you had fluffy!werewolf ancestors, idk. Maybe you’re the chosen one, I don’t care, don’t question it. 

I didn’t want to specify how tall you are, so I couldn’t put in any comparisons (like, after you turn you’re taller than (character) because what if you’re already taller than them before turning? that wouldn’t make any sense). But basically I made you kind of hilariously large. You look like a normal wolf, your fur being the same colour as your (natural) hair (sorry, i wasn’t really envisioning a pink wolf), but you’re roughly the size of a polar bear (please google it those fuckers are huge) 

OKAY ENOUGH EXPLANATIONS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT IT WAS REALLY FUN TO WRITE I MIGHT EVEN DO A PART TWO IF ANYONE WANTS IT???? ♡♡

[sapphirefallschronicles]

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Welcome to Sapphire Falls - chapter 24 ❜┊˚̥۪͙۪◌

Basketballer!Chris Evans x Abigail Syverson (plus size!ofc) & Farmer!Syverson x Livia Darmandi (Asian ofc)

Summary: Abigail and Chris finally talk, just like Sy and Livia have a heart to heart.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: None

The Advent Calendar (a.k.a. the masterlist)

After the debacle at the Christmas fair, I go straight to the place that brings me comfort. The demonic goats. It still baffles me how Sy thinks they are truly demonic, but that might be because I have set them up against him. I should start talking nice things about him to them, because they can’t give him a hard time once I leave this place. 

But first I need their advice. 

Once again.

‘Do you think Chris and I can be together one day?’ I ask as I scratch Honey behind her ears. She bleats loudly before jumping off to annoy her mother. ‘You’re no help,’ I tell her. ‘Why is the universe so set on ruining my chance to be with him? You’d think three times is a charm, but we have almost kissed three times now. And every time we got interrupted. Maybe we aren’t meant to be together after all. Maybe I should give up,’ I sigh. 

Honey comes rushing back, begging for more scratches. 

‘You think I should give him another chance? I don’t know if I can do that.’ Tears start to form in my eyes, and I feel like such an idiot. ‘What’s wrong with me? Why do I always have to be second best? I cannot live a life where I feel like the ex fiance is always around the corner.’

All of a sudden I hear someone scraping their throat behind me. Quickly I turn around, to see Chris. 

‘How long have you been standing there?’ I ask, wiping away the tears. Apparently I had not heard a thing in the last few minutes, because I see his truck parked in our driveway.

He walks closer to me, but I hold up my hand, needing space between us. I need room to think, but I can’t do that with him so close to me. 

‘Abi,’ Chris says, ‘that text, it was Bethany telling me she had cleared my house from her stuff.’

That was unexpected. ‘What?’

‘She’s gonna leave. I told her we’re never gonna work and that she needs to get her stuff out of my house.’ He smiles and says: ‘She’s blocked. She’s banned from my life. Forever.’

‘I don’t… I don’t get it.’ I’m having a hard time comprehending what is happening. Is he saying what I hope he is saying?

‘She is gone. She finally understood I don’t want her in my life, and she only texted me to tell me she had collected her stuff from my house and left the key.’ Chris slowly closes the gap between us, and I let him. 

‘Because all I need is you, Abigail Syverson.’

I have always hated crying in front of people, therefore avoiding it like hell, but I can’t help myself right now. Tears stream down my face, not sad tears, more like I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening-tears. 

‘Really?’ I choke out. Chris is now in front of me, only an inch between us. He gently removes my hands from my face, and takes them in his. 

‘Yeah,’ he says softly, placing his hand on my cheek, wiping the tears away. 

‘Why?’ 

He barks out a laugh, and pulls me even closer to him. ‘I confess my love to you, and you ask why?’

‘I mean, you can be with someone like Bethany, why would you want to be with me? I’m not her, I don’t even remotely look like her. I’m not in your world, I bet there are other girls who are. Who fit in.’ I see a look of hurt in Chris’ eyes, and while I don’t want to personally ruin the moment I have always dreamt of, I have to express my concerns. 

I have loved Chris Evans for so long, and now that I can get him, I start wondering what life with him would be like. I’d have to go with him, to Chicago, which I would love. But do I fit in that world full of superstars and supermodels?

‘Stop that,’ Chris says, he places his other hand on my face as well, and makes me meet his gaze. ‘You are nothing like her, because you are so much more. You are funny, kind, caring, sweet, talented. And you are so beautiful.’ He presses a kiss to my forehead. ‘Your smile lights up a room, your eyes are my favorite color.’ A kiss on my nose. ‘And I can talk for hours about what your body does to me,’ he ends, his voice darkening. 

He presses his forehead against mine, and we stand like that for a moment. My tears had stopped, and I wrap my arms around his neck. 

‘So, you think you like me back?’ Chris softly nudges his nose against mine. 

‘Ever since you held my hand in third grade,’ I chuckle and I close my eyes as he leans in, his lips hovering inches from mine. 

‘I’ve been wanting to do this for so long,’ he whispers, his voice low and husky.

‘Me too.’ My own voice barely above a whisper.

And finally we closed the gap between us. After all these years, after all these attempts, we finally kiss. It is everything I hoped for. My entire body is on fire, and I feel like I’m flying. 

Chris’ hands are everywhere, and so are mine. His hard body is flush against mine, and before I know it a moan escapes my mouth. 

And the sound he made following that, sent shivers down my spine. ‘‘Maybe we need to go somewhere, you know, private,’ I whisper in between our kisses. 

Chris hums in response, still pressing kisses on my jaw, neck, cheeks, lips. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’

I’m about to agree, when I suddenly realize something. ‘Fuck, no. Sy’s home, I think.’

Chris stops kissing my neck, and grabs my hand to pull me with him, out of the barn. ‘We’re going to my hotel. I mean, if you want to?’ He waits for my answer, and when I tell him yes, we make a run for his truck. 

●・○・●・○・●

A few hours later I wake up next to Chris. In his hotel room. In his bed. With my head on his naked chest. Am I dreaming? 

I realize I am not dreaming, but am wide awake. A grin as wide as possible forms on my face. If you’d told me a month ago that Chris Evans and I would express our love for each other, I would have laughed in your face. 

But now, I feel a happiness I never felt before. Slowly I draw circles with my finger over his tattooed chest. Mine. 

He stirs a little, and I feel him placing his hand on the swell of my back. The sun is slowly disappearing, painting orange and red strokes on the wall. 

‘Hi baby,’ he hums, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. He sits up a little bit, so we’re eye to eye again. I definitely can get used to this. 

A smile forms on my face, and without hesitation I lean forward to peck his lips. I never felt comfortable enough to do so with previous partners, but with Chris? It feels like it was meant to be. 

‘You look beautiful.’ He wraps me in his arms, and we lay like that in silence for a moment. 

‘Would you come to Chicago with me?’ Chris breaks the silence. 

‘Is it weird if I started packing my bags mentally already?’

‘Please tell me you’re not bringing all your plants with you,’ he laughs. ‘I doubt I have the space for that.’

I smile, but think about his question in the meanwhile. Yes, I want to go with him. Yes, I would love to go to Chicago. But what would that look like? Will I move in with him immediately? I don’t think I’m ready to go from nothing to basically married. 

‘Chris?’ I say.

‘Mhm?’

‘Can we take it slow?’

Chris props himself up on his elbow, to get a better look on my face. He smiles softly, and nods, encouraging me to elaborate. 

‘I just want us to take our time to get to know each other like this. Enjoy every step of this way.’ I place my hand on his face, and he presses a kiss to the palm of my hand. ‘I don’t want to rush into this.’

‘As long as I get to spend time with my favorite person, you. I will take all the time you, we, need, okay? There is no need to rush things. We have a lifetime ahead of us.’’ He pulls me in his arms, kisses me tenderly, and we won’t leave the bed till the sun rises again.

I don’t know how much time went by, but my arms feel sore by the time I actually take a break. Maybe I’m not fuming anymore, but damn I’m still pissed. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so angry. That idiot and my Liv left the bar.

There had been times where I was angry, maybe even jealous when someone else spoke to her, but I could be rational about it. But this is different. Fuck, this was totally different.

‘Is there a reason, Caleb Syverson, you’ve been ignoring my calls?’

Her voice. 

‘Sorry,’ I mutter, without looking up. 

Footsteps come closer and she stands in front me. Her black platform boots are covered in sand and a little bit of mud. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Do I look okay?’

‘Want an honest answer?’

I finally look up, only to see her looking serious and her default state of sadness still present. ‘Go for it.’

‘You look like shit,’ she tells me. ‘And for that I’m sorry. That was my fault, Ian’s fault.’

I stand up and tower over her, even with a few feet between us. ‘Why did you even go with him?’ I ask her, my tone a lot harsher than I intended. ‘You just told me he was your ex and all of the sudden you’re taking him to the doctor?’

Livia blinks her eyes, almost like she’s confused by what I said. ‘Well duh,’ she says. ‘Of course I had to check whether or not he had an internal bleeding. It’s you versus him, Sy. Do you really think I have to check on you, when you didn’t even have a scratch and I had no idea if he was vomiting blood or if it was his lip leaking?’

Okay, she makes an excellent point.

‘You know,’ she continues, ‘after I took him to the doctors and it turned out he was completely fine, just peachy, I told him we’re over. That he and I never worked and that nothing could ever change my mind.’ 

‘Oh.’

‘He understood and we’re over.’

We both don’t say a thing, however she’s the one who breaks the silence.

‘I wasn’t lying, you know,’ she continues. ‘I really wished we didn’t spend so long apart. I hate how you didn’t have me forever.’

I clench my jaw, but that’s mostly because I have know idea how to respond to this. Back at the bar I knew, I wanted to further elaborate once we were talking, but then Ian happened.

And now words just don’t flow. 

‘You know, I hate myself everyday for not coming back,’ Livia says. ‘Because while New York City was great for me and my writing career, I never was truly happy. I set foot in Sapphire Falls and I realize that you have always been my reason for happiness.’

My vocabulary has been reduced to zero percent, because I still have no clue what to say to her and this revelation of hers. 

‘It’s always been you, Sy,’ Livia says. ‘The reason I never said that to you, is because I didn’t want to lose the greatest friend I’ve ever had. The things you and I could discuss, that meant so much to me. I saw how my parents’ relationship barely worked and I was afraid I was too much of a Darmandi and would end up like them. That I would screw up whatever we had.’

‘Liv,’ I manage to say, finally finding my voice back, ‘you know you could never screw up. Come on, if someone had to do that, it would’ve been me. We’re talking about me.’ I rub my hand over my short hairs.

‘But don’t you see that I have always been the one to hold you at arm's length?’ Livia sighs and says: ‘We kissed, prom night happened and what not. I had a taste, but every time I thought about getting closer, developing a real relationship with the one I truly loved, I backed out. I was scared.’

Livia runs her fingers through her hair and I can see she’s gently pulling it, before she does that one thing that tells me how uncomfortable she is: she pats herself on the head again. 

I hate seeing her in distress like that. 

She chews on her bottom lip and whispers: ‘Sy, I’m so sorry.’

‘Why are you sorry?’

‘Because I yet again screwed up.’ 

I detect some tears collecting in her eyes. 

‘Come here,’ I say, pulling her gently in my arms. Livia, always our little and tiny Livia, buries her face in my chest and whispers soft apologies. ‘Stop that.’

‘What?’ she asks. ‘Stop crying? How do you think I can just do that?’

Realizing I phrased it wrong, I whisper: ‘No, stop apologizing. You have nothing to feel sorry about and there is no need to feel sad and cry. It’s always been you too, Liv. I… No woman is ever good enough, not when I know there is you.’

She places her chin on my chest and through her tears looks at me. ‘You waited eleven years for me?’ she asks. 

‘Yeah, I guess I did.’

‘Damn you, Sy, that’s the sweetest thing ever.’ She wiggles herself out of my arms and wipes away her tears. ‘How do I compete with that?’

‘It’s not a competition,’ I tell her. ‘Liv, know that we’re not competing for who is the most romantic. All I care about is that I never lose you again. Because I don’t know if I can handle that.’

She’s shaking and I feel so bad that all these emotions are coming out like this. All the anger I felt just minutes earlier dissolves like that. ‘Caleb Syverson,’ she whispers, ‘I love you so much.’

I never expected to hear those words from her ever again. Those important words coming from her lips. And yet, here it happens. ‘Livia Darmandi,’ I say, ‘I can safely say: I love you more.’

Despite her tears, she lets out a laugh. ‘Took me eleven fucking years to realize that.’

I take a step towards her, gently hold her face in my hands and use my thumb to wipe away the tears. I press a kiss on her forehead and she relaxes against me. ‘That’s okay,’ I whisper against her forehead.

‘Don’t ever let me go,’ she says in a pleading tone.

‘Of course not,’ I tell her. ‘How about you kiss me, Liv?’

She stands on her toes, fisting my lumberjack blouse in her hands before she presses her lips on mine. Eleven years passed, eleven years since our last kiss, but I finally get to kiss her again. I pick her up and gently place her on the nearby wooden fence, so she doesn’t crane her neck and I don’t turn into a hunchback. She locks me in between her legs and from her eagerness I can tell she doesn’t want to let go.

But neither do I.

I finally have her back. 

●・○・●・○・●

After we eventually managed to break apart our kisses, we took a bit of a walk, her hand securely in mine. We walked passed Sapphire Lake, all the barns we had and the stables, almost like I wanted to show every animal that this woman is mine now and that there is no way I would ever let her go.

We stop in front of the shed. In these last few years, I’ve taken good care of this place. Abigail often said I should rent it out, but I can’t. I can’t rent out the place with one of my most sacred memories. ‘Remember prom night?’

‘You think I could forget?’ I ask her. ‘You’re my first and the only one I care about.’

She leans against me and I press her a kiss on top of my head. I gently tug her with me, as I unlock the door. As she walks passed me, for a second I’m back years ago. Almost like she never left, as she makes herself comfortable on the bed. Smiling, at ease and so beautiful.

I plop next to her and she smiles. For the first time in forever, I don’t see her anguish, her sadness. 

She’s serene. 

‘Are you happy, Liv?’

‘Happiest I’ve ever been in my life. I realized I’ve done nothing but chase hopes and dreams, when all I had to do was to chase you.’

I give her a kiss on her forehead. ‘It was worth the wait,’ I tell her. 

‘Sy, can you promise me to never let me go?’ she asks in a soft tone, nuzzling her face in my chest. ‘There is a one hundred percent chance I can’t live without you.’

I shake my head, wrapping my arm tightly around her. ‘I’m never letting you go, ever again.’

●・○・●・○・●

[talktomeinclexa]

Eternity In Your Arms

By: TalktomeinClexa

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Biting and Blood (I mean, it's a vampire story...)

Status: WIP (1/2)

Summary: How far will Clarke go to save her dying brother? Will she dare make a deal with a creature of the night as beautiful as she’s ancient?

***

Chapter 1: The Monsters Come At Night

“Get out of here,” the large man yelled, his rubicund face red with anger.

He didn’t dare to grab the girl, too afraid of catching the plague decimating her family one member at a time. His tone, however, would have made a weaker soul cower — someone who still had something to lose.

“Please,” the maiden begged, the resolve in her eyes contrasting with her voice weak from lack of food. “Winter is almost here. We need blankets, furs, anything that will protect us from the cold.”

The merchant stepped forward, using his superior size to force her back. “To hell with you! You’ll scare away the customers. Leave before my whip finds your skin.”

Defeated, the young woman fled the stall and its heartless owner. She hurried down the village’s dirt roads, her head low and a shawl covering her blond hair as best as possible. Stubbornly, she refused to let her tears fall, even when children recognized her and threw old tomatoes at her to chase her away. She endured their parents’ contempt and fear-rooted hatred without flinching; those ignorant little monsters were nothing to her.

Once she was out of Arkadia, the glares and threats mercifully ended. The villagers rarely went out once the sun began to disappear behind the trees, and none ever took the narrow path leading to her hut.

Clarke headed for the forest first, her stomach growling under her thin dress. She hadn’t eaten anything since a handful of roots for supper the night before. Another day like that, and she would collapse, too exhausted to continue.

For a moment, she considered lying on the cold ground, face turned toward the sky, and closing her eyes. Bending under the weight of her sorrows and finding the eternal respite she craved. The rest she deserved after taking care of her sick parents for months, after all the efforts she put in only to bury her father and then her mother. If God had any mercy left, He would reclaim her soul quickly and without pain, pulling it from under her gaunt face with a strong gust of wind.

“Not yet,” she growled, forcing herself to take another step between the trees. She couldn’t give up, not when one person remained, counting on her.

Fate wasn’t done with her, it seemed. A dead rabbit lay in the snare she had placed in the morning. A small gesture, but enough to feed the two Griffins and give her the strength to get up the following day. Foxes and wolves abounded in the forest, and she untied the carcass and pocketed it before they came to fight her for it. She repositioned the trap with care — hopefully, there would be another rabbit in the morning — and returned home.

They hadn’t always lived in the crude hut. Long ago, when her parents still drew breath, they owned a house near the center of Arkadia. With her father working as an architect and her mother as a healer and a midwife, they had enough to be comfortable. Everyone knew the Griffin family could be relied on, and their neighbors didn’t hesitate to visit them often. Until Jacob Griffin caught the plague while working in the city.

Her mother did everything in her power to stop or slow the disease, to no avail. Soon, Abigail became sick, too, leaving Clarke to care for both of them. And when Jacob died and the news of their affliction spread, they became pariahs. Shun by the village, the young woman and her brother had no choice but to move to that abandoned cabin at the edge of the forest.

They buried their mother two weeks later, away from the grotty habitation, hoping to rid themselves of the disease. Alas, their precaution wasn’t enough.

Keep reading

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 69)

Free

Here I come to give you another chapter before disappearing off the face of the earth again! 

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

We'd been travelling through the night. Neither of us had slept in over twenty-four hours but it didn't matter, we just needed to create distance, and figure out exactly what to do. Our best plan was to head west and hope things had calmed down enough since Blackwater, there was no guarantee of course, but that was better than heading in literally any other direction. We weren't fit to survive out in the freezing cold of the Northern mountains, just the two of us, it was way too risky in the East, what with everything that had happened there, with how many people were after us. 

So we kept riding, our horses pulling a wagon which Arthur and I sat atop; it was full of all our things, just like every other time we'd been on the move. Only this time, it was just the two of us. We'd all gone our separate ways, parting with haste below the light of a full moon, saying goodbyes that were far too hasty, though necessary. And most importantly, not forever. That's what we all kept saying, at least. I hoped it would be true.

-

"You ready?" Sadie asked me, approaching with a sorrowful aura that I hadn't seen since I first joined the gang, when she'd been fresh from the hell of what happened to her and her husband out in the snow.

"I guess so. Just waiting for Arthur. What about y'all?" I replied, and followed her gaze to where she cast it towards John and Abigail; who'd packed so little that it fit into saddlebags, just the same as Sadie. They had to pack light, where they were heading.

"Yeah, we're ready," she nodded, then sighed. "It's been real nice knowing you, it's been quite a ride, huh?" 

"Yes it has," I chuckled quietly, then stepped closer, into the arms she immediately opened for me. I squeezed her tight, rubbing her back as she patted mine. "We'll write each other, you know what to do."

"Of course," she nodded, pulling back and smiling at me. Her eyes shined. 

We'd all discussed a plan to keep in touch. We'd all have mail sent to Strawberry under various alias' and have them forwarded to wherever we found ourselves settling, once the timing was right. None of us knew when the timing would be as such, it could be years. But it'd happen eventually. We'd all been through far too much to part ways and become mere memories in each others' minds. 

John and Abigail approached then, with Jack propped on Abigail's hip, his sleeping head resting on her shoulder. 

"Arthur's coming," John said, nodding towards the road behind me, and I turned to see him and Jet emerging from the distance, cast in blue light from the moon. I took a shaky breath and quickly turned to John. He hadn't said much when Sadie and I arrived back at the camp and informed everyone of what had happened. He and Lenny hadn't been around when Dutch had died, and he seemed to remain in a state of disbelief from the moment we described the incident. 

I still felt incredibly guilty. 

"How're you feeling?" I asked them both. Abigail shook her head, as if to say that she didn't know, and I could understand. I was numb besides guilt. 

"Lucky to be alive, after everything," John said frankly, exhaling a small, empty laugh. 

"And what about what happened… you know–" 

"About Dutch?" John cut me off, getting straight to the point. I nodded. "Well, it was gonna happen some way or another. I sort of wish I could've been there to see it, to see how he finally got taken out."

"You ain't mad?"

"Mad?"

"Well I know we ain't all been his biggest fans just lately but, he was still someone important to y'all," I mused, glancing back and forth between Abigail and John. 

"He was as good as dead to me already. He would've killed one of us if he had the chance, I'm willing to bet money on that. He went so wrong, got totally twisted, he weren't the man I used to respect no more. I don't know if he ever could'a come back from it neither," John explained, glancing at Jack, "besides, there's far more important folk in my life who didn't leave me to rot in a jail, and people who gotta depend on me now. I couldn't go on like this and still have anything to do with that man. I guess it's… maybe it's better like this." 

Abigail nodded in agreement, kissing Jack's forehead. 

"I just can't believe after all he did, this is what finally did him in," she scoffed, shaking her head. "A damn horse."

"My only regret is we couldn't take his ass in to claim his bounty," Sadie snorted, trampling through any trace of delicacy in the conversation up until then. My lips parted, unsure of how to respond, and the others also remained silent for a few painful seconds. "Little bit too far?" Sadie questioned. 

John allowed himself to laugh and shook his head. "Maybe a little further than I'd dare take it, but I can't hold it against you," he admitted, patting her shoulder.

Arthur arrived then, swinging his leg over to dismount and heading immediately our way. He glanced between the four of us, assessing the mood, and it was Abigail who spoke first.

"How're you doin' Arthur?"

"Well I'm about as alright as the rest of you I'm guessing, this ain't exactly how I expected things to go today when I rode out to them oil fields," he said distractedly, hands going to his hips. "I uh… I buried him. Took him out to the Cumberland Forest, figured it was a quiet enough spot, didn't wanna hang around for too long."

"You did a good thing Arthur, burying him after what happened," I told him, and when he met my eyes he seemed to not believe me. 

"I wouldn't say it was a good thing, I just dug a whole in the ground and put him in it, I didn't say no words or prayers for him. What I did was the bare minimum. Anyway, we're ready?" He said, rolling straight into the next topic, not hovering around Dutch any longer. I swallowed down the nauseous feeling it gave me and nodded. 

"We're ready."

"You folks are leaving?" A new voice spoke, and we turned to see Lenny approaching, Miss Grimshaw by his side.

"I guess so," John nodded.

"Mr. Morgan, I tried to stop her from going to those oil fields but she wouldn't hear sense–" Susan began but Arthur just shook his head, lifting his hand dismissively.

"It don't matter now," he said.

"I can't believe he's really gone," she said, shaking her head, her eyes full of pain. I understood that Susan had maintained a somewhat positive relationship with Dutch up until the end, only really seeing him for who he was in the clarity after Micah's demise. No matter how angry she was with him though, it was clear she would mourn for him. And perhaps even Arthur would; all those years of loyalty, they wouldn't exist free of emotion even after all that had happened.

Nobody said anything in response to Susan's statement, there were just a few shared glances and a long stretch of silence. 

"Lenny, you got everything you need?" Arthur finally asked. 

"I think so, all that's left is to shake all of y'all's hands," he said.

"You ain't going anywhere with just a handshake, kid," Arthur responded, and waved him in for a hug, patting him firmly on the back as he chuckled. "You take care of yourself, stay out of trouble. Make something of yourself, I know you will," he added.

"I'll do my best," Lenny chuckled. "I've had enough trouble to last me a hundred lifetimes."

They parted and Lenny proceeded to hug the rest of the group, giving John, Abigail and Jack one big collective hug before moving onto the others, and finally myself. 

"Don't be a stranger, keep in touch," I told him. "I wanna hear all about Washington."

"I gotta get there first," he chuckled, and despite his obvious skepticism over the path he'd decided to take, there was a vibrancy in his eyes that assured me that he would be alright. He was a smart kid, with what he was willing to put in I was confident he would find a way to land on his feet. 

"Safe travels, Lenny," I told him as we broke apart from our embrace. 

"And to you." 

"I don't wanna see no more about you in the papers Mr. Morgan, alright?" Miss Grimshaw barged forward, wagging a finger before pressing forward into Arthur's chest and open arms. 

"I'll do my best," he promised.

"Yes you will, this is over now, 'cause I said so," she said, then turned to me for a hug. 

"And you look after him, you hear?" She told me, and I laughed. 

"I thought he was supposed to look after me," I teased. 

"We both know what these men are like," she muttered playfully, then said her goodbyes to the others. Arthur sidled up to me, his fingers hooking subtly with mine where our arms dangled abreast, just our pinkies entwined. 

Saying our final goodbyes, I hugged Abigail, kissing Jack's temple before I pulled away, and finally John. I felt my emotions rise dangerously close to the surface, and I knew I would cry if I gave even a little bit of slack to the rope I was keeping them tightly bound by. I took a deep, slow breath as John and I parted ways. 

"It's been real nice knowing you," he said, in that hoarse voice of his that still managed softness in times like these. I scoffed out a laugh that loosened my control enough to fill my eyes with tears, though they didn't quite spill.

"What happened to keeping in touch, John?" I balked, noticing that I wasn't the only one taken aback by his comment. He grimaced and laughed, shaking his head.

"That ain't what I meant, shit, 'course we will. It's just a, uh, an expression," he back-pedalled, knocking a knuckle beneath my chin. "Been nice living alongside you, then. That better?"

"I suppose," I smirked.

Then there was a pause. We all looked amongst each other, lips arched into sad smiles, until we couldn't delay any longer. Things were too dangerous, we had no idea who could be coming for us, if anybody. At this point, our bodies were tired and we couldn't afford to fight anymore. We had to move on. 

And so we did. And that was that.

-

I sighed as I went in circles reliving those moments in my mind, adjusting my position on the wagon seat by rolling onto my other hip. My backside was completely numb and probably bruised at this point from the bumpy road and the unforgiving wood. My new position put me close to Arthur, and he looked at me, gathering both reins into one hand and then the other, stretching out each of his sore palms.

"Want me to take over?" I asked. He must've been in control for the past couple of hours and it was probably my turn again by then.

"No princess, I'm okay. Besides, it gives me something to focus on," he said. 

I planted my hand on his knee, rubbing it softly in circles. 

"You ain't said much for a while," I noted.

"Neither have you," he retorted, though it wasn't with any sort of abrasiveness, there was a vague impression of a smile rising the corner of his mouth.

"Yeah you're right."

"I guess I'm just exhausted. I'm sure we'll talk about what happened eventually, and I ain't exactly avoiding it. I just…" he paused to sigh, "I ain't got the energy."

"That's okay," I told him, squeezing his knee once. 

"We'll be able to stop soon I reckon. We're past Strawberry, headed towards the Great Plains. It's a little closer to Blackwater than I'd like but I fancy getting too close to Tall Trees even less. Some nasty folk been hanging 'round there lately I heard. I'd rather take my chances with lawmen than the Skinner Brothers."

"Yeah we should stop," I agreed, suddenly feeling the fatigue hit me once the idea of stopping to rest was planted in my mind. 

We rode for another hour or so, and it must've been something like two or three in the morning when we finally stopped. We picked a remote location on the plains, by some trees, simply for a focal point so we didn't feel so exposed. There was no chance of us building a proper camp with a tent, so we just rolled out our bedrolls side by side and made a small fire to bring us some comfort as we ate canned peas to fill our bellies.

Once again, there were few words shared between us. We were both so bone-weary that neither of us even attempted conversation. Small talk felt pointless and anything else was far too heavy for either of us to bear the weight of just then. Instead, we finished our peas and laid down under the stars, pistols under our pillows. Arthur curled his body around mine from behind, settling me close to his chest in a protective embrace that made falling asleep that much easier. Though, my body didn't have it in it to put up much of a fight against the rest it so desperately needed.

-

We slept well into the afternoon and wasted no time in getting moving again once we rose and realised the time. We stopped by Manzanita Post, where we stocked up on some food a little more substantial than peas and had ourselves a proper meal with bread and meat kindly shared with us by an elderly hunter. The man could barely walk with a left foot almost entirely consumed by a wolf back in '78 – he'd told us the story twice in the time it took us to eat, bless his soul – but he could still hunt. Full and feeling much brighter than we had in days, we set off again. 

Moving through the Great Plains, the air felt dryer here and it was a noticeable change after so long in the soupy climate of the Bayou. Though with the sun beating down on us, dampening our clothing with sweat and reddening Arthur's skin despite his hat providing a little shade, I suggested we stop for a while to cool off. Arthur agreed, and we took a rest beside the rapid, choppy waters of the Lower Montana River. 

As we sat by the water's edge, enjoying a breeze and some shade from the trees, I realised that the events that had occurred in the oil fields felt just far enough away that discussing it felt doable. I brought it up, unable to hold my tongue as the questions chewed my mind to mush.

"Can I ask something?" I began, prompting Arthur to look at me from his seat beside me on the soft ground, moist from the splashing of the river, "about what happened at the oil fields."

"Go ahead," he nodded, not at all seeming surprised by my curiosity.

"Do you believe that Dutch would've left us be, had things gone differently?"

"Well, for a moment I did. I thought I could talk at least enough sense into him to achieve a ceasefire," he started, speaking through a deep exhale, "maybe I did. Maybe he would've kept his word." 

He went quiet for a while, pondering his answer. Just when I thought he was done speaking, he continued. 

"But he left me for dead. I saw what he did, and I ain't so dumb as to not realise he would've been glad someone else off'ed me."

"But if you think he wanted you dead, why would you go in there alone, without Charles or nobody?"

"I didn't think he'd have the guts to try and kill me on his own, I figured I'd be safe enough and I didn't want anyone else there making him feel cornered. But I know Dutch, he can't function without a gang behind him," he answered, and I shifted my gaze to Rayna who a little ways up the river from up, drinking and enjoying the shade; and I pictured Dutch's lifeless, bloodied face again. "He'll build up his numbers soon enough, and when he does–" 

He faltered, seeming to remember something.

"If he was alive," he said, his voice strange. So that was the something he remembered… "He probably would've come for me when he could have his circus do his dirty work." 

The silence that followed stretched on long enough that I thought the conversation was over, once again. But Arthur looked at me again, and took a breath.

"So no, to answer your question I suppose deep down I don't believe he would've left us be. But I was raised by him. I guess that makes me just as yellow bellied as him, and I couldn't kill him either. Not unless I was protecting you," he gestured to me with an open palm, "and thankfully he never had the chance to put me in that position."

"You ain't yellow bellied," I assured him, "far from it. Ain't many people who could come out the other end of what you've been through with any semblance of sanity. And a yellow bellied man would have shot him in the back without thinking twice. You gave him a chance to do the right thing, at least."

Arthur took a breath and rose to his feet, taking a few steps forward and crouching by the river. He cupped his hands in the stream, and splashed his face with the cool water. When he was done, he addressed me from over his shoulder, some tension leaving his stance.

"Thank you, sweetheart, you've always had a way of making me feel less of a monster. I ain't sure it's true, but I appreciate you for it," he said.

"You're far from a monster, Arthur."

He inhaled audibly and raised a shoulder almost in dismissal, but he clearly didn't want to argue or press the topic further. I got up as well and closed the gap between us, crouching down beside him. I ran my fingers through the damp strands of hair on his forehead. When I met his eyes again, he was looking at my lips; and I took that as my cue to lean in and kiss him once, simply and sweetly.

"I'm sorry for how things ended. I could tell myself it weren't my fault and that it was just an accident 'till I'm blue in the face, but the truth is; my actions caused it," I said, looking him in the eye. I didn't allow myself to shy away from him. 

"You could also spend your life blaming yourself. But you never meant for him to die. I know that, you know that, everyone who was there knows it too. I don't feel like I need to say this, but I know you need to hear it," he said, then took my hand and squeezed it, "you're forgiven."

His words surprised me, those last ones in particular. I knew Arthur didn't blame me but I wanted to own up to what I had done; I wasn't seeking absolution. I didn't even realise for myself what I needed, but he had given it to me. Forgiveness.

He kept hold of my hand and rose up, pulling me up with him. He then held both of my hands in his, looking down at them.

"And I hope you'll forgive yourself. Because we all lose ourselves sometimes. Something happens and we're hurt, we let our feelings rule us, things get out of hand. That's what happened yesterday, and you weren't the only one there, I didn't stop you because I was hurt too," Arthur continued, and I simply listened to his wisdom, soaking it in, always eager to hear when he spoke at length; he was a smart man and nobody gave him enough credit for that. "What's done is done, ain't no amount of guilt is gonna bring him back, just like it ain't gonna stop me from ever living most of my life following him around and doing all manner of unspeakable things. So we just gotta do our best from here on out, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded.

"We've got a chance, now. It won't be easy, there's plenty of folk still out for my neck and I can't make that disappear, and I'm sorry for that, princess, truly I am," he finally met my eyes then, his looking like shimmering pools, brimming with remorse. "For now all I can give you is my loyalty, and all we've got is each other. So if you're willing to accept me the way I am, after all I've done, you ain't got no excuse for beating yourself up."

I nodded slowly, considering the logic behind his words that was inescapable. I didn't want a free pass for what I had done, and he hadn't given me that. But what he had given me, was enough reason for me to swallow down my pity and accept it for what it was; Dutch was dead and I'd played a hand in that, intentionally or not. Nothing would change it. Forgiveness for myself perhaps would come later, for now, acceptance would have to suffice. 

"Thank you," I told him, feeling some of the weight and tension bleed away from my shoulders. 

"Thank you," he shook his head, "you've done far more for me than I could ever do for you if I spent the rest of my life trying."

"All I did was love you," I told him, shaking my head.

"You say that like it's a small thing," he chuckled, tracing a line with his thumb from my cheek to my temple. He kissed me again, his other hand moving to the small of my back and pressing my body to his. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and leaned into him, working my lips with his softly and sensually. A dizzying flow of warmth cascaded over me like the rapids over the rocks, and I fed a soft hum of pleasure between his lips. 

I could've kissed that man forever. But I had to settle until the moment he shifted his footing and lost it on the soft bank, his legs skidding down from under him towards the water. We broke apart suddenly, and there was a strange moment of conflicting forces as Arthur's arms pushed me back towards the bank to save me from going with him, but my own arms reached out in a vain attempt at stopping him. We both ended up in the water with a heavy splash that frightened the birds from the trees. 

The water was thankfully not as deep as it seemed and we ended up laying on the river bed, me on top of him, up to our chests and soaked through as the water broke around us, rushing past as if we weren't there at all. An unstoppable force of nature. 

After a moment, when the shock of the cold subsided, we laughed. Like we hadn't in what felt like a lifetime, we laughed until our bellies ached and our legs were too weak to lift us back up. And we felt free.

[devil-doll13]

Sword and Sorcery

(Part 1)

Tw: Violence, Mentions of Death, Harassment

(Abigail belongs to me, Clay belongs to @rottent33th <3)

Me and t33th were shipping these two from the medieval au that was going about a while ago! (Check out the moodboard here). I decided to write a bit for them since the idea was giving me massive brainrot lol

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Clay set down his mug with a sigh, looking around the village tavern. It was a quaint little place, and cozy. A fire from the hearth provided warmth and gentle light, comforting the patrons. They spoke and laughed quietly after a long day’s work, nursing their own drinks. In the corner a bard strummed at his lute, recounting the story of Erik the Red. It had gathered a small crowd of eager listeners who huddled by the fire. Clay himself would have normally been more keen to sit down and enjoy the tale, but there were more pressing matters on his mind right now.

There had been of late a dragon terrorising the kingdom, and the creature had taken the lives of many men sent before him. The king had appointed Clay the sole member of a dragon-slaying party in hopes that he would be able to fell the beast. It was almost certainly because of his reputation in battle; a total twenty-seven of the foul serpents had died by his hand. If only he could make it twenty-eight, but as luck would have it he had run out of clues on where the dragon’s lair would be. Now Clay worried it would emerge again and cause more tragic loss of life.

“Need a refill?” Came a gruff voice behind the counter. He looked up to see the bartender, a hefty and ruddy-faced man, drying out a tankard with a towel.

“Ah…” Clay then realised how tightly knit his brows were, his thoughts darkening his features. “Uh, no thanks. I can’t be staying long.” He took another swig of his mead.

“Got someplace to be?” The bartender asked, an amused twinkle in his eye. Clay thought for a moment. It might be a worthwhile idea to ask this man, for as much as he likely passed around village gossip.

“I’m… Looking for something.” Clay lowered his voice, leaning in. “Something… magical.”

That was not a lie. Dragons were powerful magic users. It was what made them so dangerous to humans. Although what he himself was more interested in was a magical object that could help him find this one, however taboo that might be. He honestly felt he was out of options.

The man’s face fell as he placed down the mug, eyes darting around the room.

“Magical?” He whispered. “You mean… The Witch?” Clay blinked, confused for a moment. He’d never heard of such a woman. But he nodded, wondering if this could be just as useful. “Yes, the Witch… Can you tell me where she lives?”

“I…” The bartender hesitated for a moment. Clay watched as he grew pale, clearly unsettled about something. He wondered for a moment if he’d pushed things too far. Reaching into his satchel, he produced a few gold coins and placed them onto the counter. A bribe. The king had given him plentiful funds for any sort of obstacle he should run into, so it was no question of money.

The man seemed to understand this, licking his lips as he pocketed the gold. “Aye, I believe I can…” he took a deep breath before continuing. “You’ve heard of Witches’ valley?” Clay nodded. It was quite close by, a desolate stretch of land darkened by constant thunderstorms. “South of there, lies Webwood… That be where she lives.”

He shook his head, “It has long been haunted by restless and vengeful spirits. There were many killed there in a battle long ago, you see. We dare not enter for the fear of them, and for fear of her.” Clay frowned as the man seemed to shiver in fear at the thought of this woman, and for a moment felt slightly guilty for asking. At the same time, he did wonder how much fear was warranted. Had there been a history of this Witch cursing the locals?

“Ser, that’s as much as I am willing to say, no amount of gold would be worth the risk of her curses.” Clay nodded in understanding. “That’s fine. Thankyou for your time.”

Finishing off the rest of his beer, he got up and brushed off his crimson dyed cloak. He wore it for a reason; his deeds had made him a famous man, but he had no desire to draw a crowd. Especially not today, I’m not in the mood, He thought.

He’d been halfway out the door when he heard a girl squeal behind him. He immediately turned his head back, and what he saw enraged him. Some drunkard who’d been sitting in a corner had grabbed a hold of a maid’s arm and was slurring out obscene things. The poor girl looked petrified.

Within a single stride Clay had him by the back of the neck, grabbing him by the scruff like a dog. When he saw Clay towering above him, he suddenly looked very sober. From under the hood he made out long locks of fiery hair and a freckled face, darkened with rage. He immediately recognised him.

Clay’s steel gauntlets cut sharply into the man’s wrist, almost hard enough to draw blood. “Let go of her arm, now, or I’ll break yours” He hissed into his ear, blood boiling. The man let out a pained noise and relented, dropping the maid’s wrist. She quickly shuffled away.

“Hey!” Bellowed the bartender from the other end of the tavern, having finally decided to act. “I’ll have none of that, Pete, get out!” Clay shoved him away, lip curling in disgust as he watched Pete cower. He muttered something under his breath and then stumbled drunkenly out of the tavern.

The girl looked up at him in fright, “I thank you, ser!” She squeaked out, and hastily bowed her head. He frowned as he watched her scurry away to the kitchen. He hasn’t meant to scare her too. But as he looked down at himself, he knew it couldn’t be helped. He did try not to show as much outward brutality to innocents, but even his stature was enough to frighten.

With a sigh he made his way out the door himself, looking around to see the drunkard had quickly made himself scarce. Then he saw the familiar white face of Chevy, his trusty mare. She was still tethered to the post outside the tavern where he’d left her.

Walking over to untie her, he felt some sense of relief being by her side again. “Hey, girl.” He cooed softly. Chevy snorted in response, nuzzling his hand. He produced an apple from his pack, and she munched on it happily. He did dote on her, the old girl. Although he had been offered many young stallions to replace her, he wanted no other.

As he watched her enjoying her snack he thought about what he had to do next. Southward lay Witches’ valley where he could see it from the hill. Dark thunder clouds rolled across that expanse of the sky, making it unmistakable. He decided to seek out the Witch, to see if the rumours were true. If she was to help him on his quest he would gladly leave her be. If she be wicked, he would slay her.

“It’s going to be a long journey ahead…” He pulled himself up onto the saddle, patting her neck fondly. A soft caw caught his attention, and Clay looked up to see a raven perched up in the naked branches of a tree. It stared down at him with black beady eyes, then took flight. He watched it ascend and soar over Witches’ valley, as if to be his guide.

(Taglist: @slaasherslut)

[k-s-morgan]

Hello, hope you’re doing well!! I just finished Hannibal and I think maybe I missed something in Mizumono, because there is a detail that I don’t quite understand. I was hoping maybe you could give me your explanation :) So in previous episodes, Hannibal smells Freddie Lounds on Will and knows that he will betray him. So he gives him one more chance, run away with me, which Will declines and it devastates Hannibal. Then later, Will calls him “they know” and the events happen. And especially in his final scene with Will, he acts on impulse. Fighting with Jack, stabbing Will, killing Abigail etc. seems to me as something not planned. Like he’s been forcefully shed of his human skin, we finally see him as he is completely bare. And I always wondered like why did he act like he just learnt about Will’s betrayal? He knew beforehand, he planned his escape, he planned Abigail etc. But he also cries after Will and I would’ve thought he would’ve planned the fight with Jack more throughly? And another thing is that Will tells him the truth himself, warns him but Hannibal acts as if like Will choosing him doesn’t change anything, or is not enough? I can understand Hannibal’s emotions and motivation towards the whole betrayal (his hurt, sorrow, anger etc) but I don’t understand what he’s thinkig in this particular scene. I’m really curious about your thoughts, thank you!! Have a great day <3

Hello! Thank you)) I've been having a severe problem with electricity because what our authorities managed to restore after Ruzzian shelling broke down again, but today things seem to be better.

Welcome to the fandom! You asked a great question. Mizumono is one of the best episodes in the entire show, and I think it's a beautiful and fascinating reflection of Hannibal's character.

As I see it, after realizing Will betrayed him, Hannibal decided to give him the benefit of doubt. He locked away his immediate feelings of hurt and rage, continuing to function normally on the surface and focusing on giving Will another chance. He tried to hold himself together and distance himself from his more primitive emotions, just putting them aside and ignoring their existence, running on a desperate hope that Will is going to choose him.  

What happened that fateful evening is like a belated first reaction. Hannibal was finally forced to face the horrible truth: Will betrayed him. The instinctive reaction he had consciously subdued surged forward violently, shattering his human suit and making him almost mindless, making him lash out in his fury. It's like he had nothing to lose at this point, like the last link to humanity snapped.

As for why Hannibal acts as if Will choosing him at the last moment isn't enough: Will chose the words "They know" in his phone call. This was the phrase Hannibal used for provoking Hobbs into violence and killing him via Will. So he likely assumed that Will was further trapping him while Will was just being a drama queen who didn't consider all implications of this echo. After that, when Will said "You were supposed to leave" and acted soft overall, I think it was too late. Hannibal was too hurt and too angry to listen to him and process his words properly. He controlled his violent reaction at first, but once he let go, it was impossible to rein in back in.

[walker-extended-universe]

Windy 1x10 Thoughts

How this show manages to keep me guessing with every episode I'll never know

Once again, not enough time or energy for a proper review so I'm just gonna put my thoughts here real quick and then get back to my regularly scheduled shitposting.

Calian and Augustus:

You know, when this plotline first came up, I knew this was going to either end with Nascha being dead or with her being assimilated and I wasn't sure which would be worse. Now I know.

Nascha being fed a false narrative about her life and eventually giving up her heritage to fit into the world she was forced into is just...awful. Probably historically accurate (I feel a research itch coming on) but awful

Calian is torn between being grateful that she's alive and grieving the loss of who she used to be. He'd kept that hope up all these years, that he would find her and his tribe would be whole again, and it was all for nothing

I also got the feeling that Calian had a lot of barely tempered rage below the surface during that conversation and it was only the knowledge that Nascha had no say in what happened that kept him in check

"I bet your wife is proud of you" "She used to be" Okay is Gus' wife dead or is she mad at him for his career choice? Being on the frontier would mean she either had to come out with him or that he left her behind for months- if not years- at a time.

Oh boy a new chief was chosen while Calian was gone and he wants war. I'm sure nothing bad will come of this :)

The Side Step:

HAGAN'S BACK!!!!!!

Of course Hoyt chooses a bar to stay in while there's a storm.

Francis having debts to pay off that are now his family's responsibility is a good way to bring Lucia back. Since, yaknow, Hoyt abandoned her -_-

Kate figuring out that Hagan acted to protect her in .5 seconds is both a good way to move the plot forward and another example of how good of a detective she is

Kate and Hoyt secret scheming together my beloved

Kate: Be drunk Hagan: Already am I love them your honor

Hoyt stripping is blatant fanservice but this was better than the watering hole so I'll let it pass.

Tbh part of me wishes Lucia hadn't been in on the plan but she did very well regardless. I guess she had a good poker face after all ;)

Anyway fuck Randall and long live cattle baroness Lucia

Lucia, sweetie, you know Hoyt. I do not think putting him in charge of a bar is a good idea and you really should know better.

Kate and Hagan's reunion was my favorite part of this episode. Kate missed him, even if she was mad, and I think this episode showed how much she looked up to him. He knew about her non-heterosexuality and trusted her to run a business, likely during a time when everyone else she knew didn't trust her much at all. He's a father just as much as she's a daughter. Her tears when asking him if she could run away with him just- *heart breaks*- I'm fine. But he's right; she needs to stay put and find her footing, keep the spirit of Hagan's alive. Perhaps she'll order a hat from him one day.

Hagan's:

Tom's nightmare about him hanging from the rafters of the barn is just *chef's kiss* we love a traumatized meow meow

"What will you do when you find your brother?" "He'll get what's coming to him" I love Abby's concerned face after this like sweetie not everyone is driven by a sense of justice sometimes you just need to shoot people in the face.

"Tom Davidson and Abigail Walker seek shelter in a hotel and get love advice from a strange woman who mistakes them as a couple" is a fanfiction prompt if I ever saw one and tbh I know a few writers who would've done it better. But I digress

I love how Tom just casually drops his family-related trauma onto Abby. That's so normal and hinged of him.

Is it because no one else in his life cares about him and he's become overly attached to her since he first saw her she saved his life?

I swear I thought that woman was Teresa Davidson for a second

Tom saying he knew there was something special about Abby from the moment they first met is either really romantic or really threatening depending on the context.

Very odd woman reliving her married days and sharing memories with two strangers. Not really sure what to make of her (or her comment to Hagan) but she seems nice. I hope she's not evil.

Okay so Abby isn't afraid of Tom anymore because she knows he didn't do it. All the while Tom is becoming more endearing to her because of how he cares about Independence and the way he seems willing to stand up to his family. Kate thinks she should be careful (and I agree) but there is Something here.

If they'd left it at the Almost Kiss, I would've been happy. I would've preferred that. Abby is gaining feelings, Tom has been having feelings for some time, the Pining is at it's peak.

Aaaaand then they ruin it by killing the "will they/won't they" question by having Tom and Abby sleep together right away -_-

Aaaaaand now Kate knows and she's being extra judgemental about it (although to be perfectly fair she was the one that barged into Tom's room without warning....)

Aaaand now Shane's run off. He probably died in the dust storm.

Tom/Abby happened and it is technically what I asked for but...did it have to be this way? Couldn't we have had a few more episodes of pining before we got a kiss?

Solid episode overall but I think we could've used more of Lucia being mad at Hoyt. He deserves it.

[tatzelwyrm]

Ok, it's over. I'm good again. We will now return to regluar random blogging untinged by nostalgia.

Final thoughts for my own files:

Charles lives. \o/

There could have been more of Charles, but then there can always be more of Charles. But at least he lives and so now I can sleep peacefully again.

The Metalocalypse according to Knubbler: "Fuckers will be dying and shit."

Pickles is Mom confirmed.

Skwisgaar's role in the band is Guitar God. Toki's role in the band is "sunshine rainbow marshmallow man".

Murderface's role in the band is to suck (affectionate).

Nathan is going to only have sex with music from now on (and drink respect women juice)

They brought back the chef for the final battle. :DDD

For a character as silly as Knubbler, they managed to give his death a lot of weight.

The way they handled Abigail was good. Abigail is so good because she's so normal in a way that no other recurring character is. Also, she's the only important female character in the entire franchise apart from the whale and there was so much fandom drama about her back in the day, that I'm geniunly glad not only didn't they fuck her up, they even pissed over all that drama in a single scene of dialogue.

Speaking of the whale: I'm glad she actually did something, because I've always loved having this character that's literally a whale but also somehow a doomsday prophet, in a show that doesn't have any other animal characters. She was bizarre in a show that is bizarre. But I didn't need her to be the one to kill Salacia. Let the main characters do that, maybe? Now it looks like all that was needed for the show to be over was for someone give Salacia a little push while he was talking a stroll on the beach.

Everybody has PTSD and that never gets explicitly addressed and that's fair, this is not the kind of show for that, but it's all there in the behaviour (Toki's age regression, Skwisgaar's touch aversion).

They managed to put some good character moments in there, my favourite being Nathan pointing out "Magnus never gave us a chance to forgive him".

Still thinking about how Brendon Small once said about Doomstar Requiem that Mangus' death was supposed to be reminiscent of Judas' suicide in Jesus Christ Superstar, who was forgiven.

I have never liked Dr Rockzo, but "Toki is doing bad, so let's have Dr Rockzo here to cheer him up" is a thought Charles would have and it's the only acceptable explanation for why he would allow the clown in his church.

When Orlaag mentioned "Krakish" I was hoping we'd see some cool looking monsters like the Troll from season one, but Salacia's monster form was actually kinda boring. :((((

Spaking of Orlaag:

me: *never really cared about Orlaag one way or another*. Orlaag: I will bathe in his blood. me: 🔪🔪🔪

And right when I thought there had been surprisingly little gore, Orlaag got turned into paste. :DDDD

Other characters take their suit off to fight. Charles is built differently.

The opening was so meta what with "it's been so long and this is what you give us?", and that's fair.

On that note: The special retreads familiar themes (the power of friendship, found family, the FANS, etc. etc. etc.), there are no surprises, but, eh, I didn't expect anything else. All open plot threads get (re)addressed and tied off. I would have wanted there to be more time for general silliness, but given that this one special is all they got to finish the story, I'm happy they managed to do as much as they did.

There was a time during the 10 1/2 years since Doomstar Requiem that I thought "it's better for this to not have an ending at all than for the ending to suck" and this was definitely not that. I wasn't blown away by the special, but that's okay. There were things the special didn't do that it could have done, but the things it did do were fine.

The subtitles are consistently weirdly inaccurate when identifying who's speaking. Salacia is referred to as MMA (who isn't even in this special), Orlaag (or was it Stampington) is referred to as Salacia, the cultist holding the sermon in the church during Ishnifus' funeral is referred to as Charles. The one that threw me the most, however, was Murderface being referred to as William. This isn't technically wrong, but it feels wrong.

[writersfearofrecognition]

Ignorance is bliss

Summary: Jacob and his childhood best friend slowly realise their feelings while trying to survive the quarry.

Pairing: Jacob Custos x nameless/female!OC

Warnings: jealousy, cringe dialogue, miscommunication trope, pure ignorance

TW: none i think (i hope, please tell me if there are i will gladly tag them)

Chapter 6:

19:44

„Jacob said something weird before the van broke down. like directly asked how you could break a van down.“

„suspicious.“ „yeah. i told him one day wouldn’t make a difference between you two but he didn’t really believe me.“ „well my strategy is to stick to as much people as possible, so we can’t talk about feelings.“ i get a shiver when i say that word and she laughs at my expression.

„you’re helpless aren’t you?“ „shut up.“

„Mh…“ she thought about it, „no. miss feelings and mister himbo are best entertainment i have at the moment.“ „not mister broody?“ „broody is going after the dj man. i’m content as a lonely warrior.“ „sure.“ „excuse you? i am.“ „mhm.“

she shoves me off the bench and stands up herself to watch the view.

i sit back down and make my game plan.

well. i had no idea.

Jacob obviously wanted to talk to me before we went home.

i obviously never wanted to talk to him ever again.

well.

exaggeration.

not until we were home.

but i also did not want to be alone at night in these woods without a real adult.

because we all most definitely were not real adults.

„ugh.“

staying with them it was.

let’s see what the evening brings.

„Guess what?“ Dylan emerges from the bushes with Ryan in tow.

my mind gets thankfully distracted by sex dungeons and tree houses.

20:15

the sun had set, Jacob had lost the privileges for his favourite snack and now, we were all gathered around the fire.

i was sitting next to Kaitlyn, so Jacob was out of my sight.

maybe mean but no feelings. thanks.

„Hey Dylan can you play one direction?“ Emma suddenly asks and all eyes fall to her, „What? i was 13 once too?“ „you were a directioner?“ Abi asks and Emma sighs, „Dylan can you, or not?“

Dylan fumbles his phone, „yeah, i guess, why?“ „because i always sang one song with all the girls in theatre and yeah…nostalgic you know.“ „you nostalgic?“ Abi asks again and Emma rolls her eyes with a smile.

„what song?“ Jacob asks suddenly.

„18.“

oh.

Emma smiles and Dylan shrugs before playing it.

„louder. and don’t you dare talk during it.“ she orders us and we all listen to the song, some more hesitant than others.

Kaitlyn was shoving me the second the song came on.

the implications were so obvious even i got them.

„yes i know Kaiti, can you stop?“ „shhh.“

„sorry.“ Kaitlyn and i say at the same time.

the silence is deadly, this song is too ugh.

thank god i have my saviour from weird social interactions: nipping at a bottle.

the beer tastes like ass but what to expect in this…yeehaw county.

Emma surely wanted to start something again.

i try to block out the song and look at my…friends.

Ryan was looking into the fire, or Dylan’s hand i couldn’t tell.

Abigail and Nick were sneaking glances at each other and Emma’s eyes were darting all over the place.

but she gives me another smile when she catches me looking at her.

the song ends and Dylan clears his throat. „permission to speak?“ he asks and Emma nods with a wide grin.

„let’s…play a game.“

Dylan brought up the idea to play truth or dare and i already knew what shit Kaitlyn was going to get up to.

especially when she asks if she can make people kiss.

i give her a shove when she said that but she only grins her cheshire grin.

he starts with Abigail who gets the first awkward question but he saves her from the possible embarrassment.

because she couldn’t decide, Emma takes her turn and makes Ryan kiss Dylan, i couldn’t keep my smile contained. at least one of our gang got some love tonight.

Ryan asks Kaitlyn and she chooses Truth. „like a pussy.“ i mutter and she shoves me this time but i dodge and take a drink from my beer with a smirk.

„So you, (Y/N) and Jacob go way back, right? like, since you were kids?“

„Sadly, yes.“ Kaitlyn says and i laugh because i know she didn’t mean that. maybe if she drank enough tonight the others would meet the real Kaiti as well.

Jacob sighs while looking down.

„Lame question, bro. waste of a turn,“ i hear him, but Ryan just talks over him. Dylan leans forward and i caught a short look at him. did he have tears in his eyes?

oh shit-

i jump forward before he raises his head completely and catches me looking. that would not help the feelings conversation.

„you guys ever, ah, get down to business together?“ i smile at the memory and forget my fear of today again.

„nothing between (Y/N) and i, but when we were in middle school i made Jacob let me practice french kissing on him…but…it never went any further, cause he’s a terrible kisser…! and i was like kissing my brother. ew.“

i bust out laughing at memory of the shriek she let out after they tried that.

„still love ya, bud!“

Jacob frowns and leans back.

something was wrong.

he was so happy like 2 hours before.

„what’s wrong with Jacob?“ i whisper to Kaitlyn and she looks over for a second.

„mad cause he wasn’t picked. i’ll change that don’t you worry hunbun.“

there was her scary grin again…shivers crawl up my back and i take another confidence swing of beer, the nickname hunbun was the worst sign there was.

„Kaitlyn who do you choose?“ „Jacob.“ he lightens up and sits up straight.

„Tru-.“ „Dude, dare. dare. dare.“

i couldn’t help but smile at his hyper demeanour.

fuck. focus.

Emma giggles and my eyes wander to her, she gave me an air kiss and i catch it which makes her grin even more.

„Jacob, so you have to kiss Emma…or…“ Emma’s eyes widen and she looks away, i take another sip since apparently i would actually see them kiss now.

great.

„(Y/N).“ my eyes widen and i set off the bottle as Kaitlyn leans back to make me visible to everyone.

i swallow slowly and look in Jacob’s eyes for the first time this night.

He’s drunk.

on beer and testosterone.

my head is spinning. did i even eat anything today?

everything to distract me from this.

he grins and Kaitlyn leans back even further, visibly content with herself, giving me a last look before turning to Emma.

Jacob and i actually never kissed before. not even as practice, i heavily denied that offer back when Kaitlyn made him do it and even in truth or dare one of us always veto’d.

Jacob stands up and i’m back in reality.

„did he already decide?“

„no. i. haven’t. my dear (Y/N).“ Jacob says as he swings back and forth with every word.

„huh?“

our friends giggle and Emma leans back as well.

well she knows what’s happening again huh?

Jacob climbs over Dylan’s long legs and gives Kaitlyn a fist bump which i greatly disapprove.

„Kaiti?“ „sorry Hunbun.“ „HUNBUN!“ Emma giggles again, now her phone ready.

„Yeah Hunbun.“ Jacob mutters and i stand up, shoving my beer into Kaiti’s chest.

the minimum for what she just did.

the hunbun-nickname-feeling is spreading in my stomach like the disease it is.

i look up at Jacob only now noticing the height difference between us. „Jake…“ „shhh we have an audience.“ he teases and i close my mouth again.

my mind completely blank.

his right hand snakes around my waist and drags me closer to him, i yelp once i’m pressed flush against his body.

those damn pecks.

he laughs.

„did you mean to say that?“

his left hand weaves through my hair and lifts my head.

he looks totally cool from outside but his eyes are twirling with panic.

mine probably too.

„maybe.“ i mutter, it was too late now anyways.

„huh.“ he says and i close my eyes when he lowers his head.

our lips meet and something releases inside of me.

finally.

his fingers grip into my hip and push me even closer, goose bumps explode at the spot where his hand is and i smile into the kiss.

Jacob’s tongue breaks out and i let it in.

in my head fly by all the times where i had butterflies for him. could butterflies be described as a form of disease?

when he teased me about him finally being taller. the first time he had that stupid black baseball cap on. when he threw me over his shoulder for the first time. when he found out how good he looked with longer pushed back hair, when he saw me in my cheer uniform. during his first game. homecoming. the whole first summer after he was team captain. every fucking time he picked me up with his van. at every party. and every damn day in this stupid camp.

„fuck. Kaitlyn you were right.“

i break the kiss but don’t let go.

wait when did my arms snake around his neck?

Kaitlyn looks at me confused.

„With that?“ „him being a bad kisser?“ Emma asks, phone still in hand.

„no. No. not that. what you told me.“ Kaitlyn grins and shrugs.

„Dude?“ Jacob asks and his hands leave my body, just like my arms slide off his chest.

„She just noticed that she likes you, Bud.“

„Kaitlyn, wtf.“

„It’s the truth.“ „how about not in front of god and the world?“ i whisper-yell and Emma hold her camera full onto me.

i stare into the lens and huff.

„Emma can you fucking not?“ „what?“

„ugh.“ i storm off.

Jacob stands still like statue. „why does she always run off?“ „Well go get her, idiot.“ Emma says and finally puts her phone away.

„Kaitlyn you get my turn.“ Jacob points at his wingwoman and runs after me.

Kaitlyn hums and smiles watching him leave.

„So Emma. you to kiss…“

20:42

i come to a stop at the boathouse, but before i can walk to the dock, Jacob yells my name and comes to a halt next to me.

„hey…“

„hi.“ i say and look at his boots.

„hunbun.“

„don’t say that.“ i huff, but the smile still breaks out and he smiles as well.

„it’s a stupid name.“ „no. i like it.“ „great.“ i turn away but he pulls me back.

„we kissed.“

„yep.“

„and Kaitlyn said you like me.“ „…yep. but i…mean…friends kiss each other right?“ this was the part where he would reject me, it would be better if i just acted like…i didn’t care.

somewhat…

he stays silent and i finally get the courage to look up.

„…why are you crying?“

„do you not like me?“

„what? Jakey. i-. fuck.“

i wipe away the tears on his cheeks and sigh when i hear his quiet sniffs.

„i just don’t like to talk about my feelings,“ i mutter embarrassed. „yeah, yeah i know….but…you do. with everyone else. Kaitlyn knows you love her, all our other friends knew you liked them too, but you never…“ he breaks off and looks down at me with wobbly lips.

fuuuck i’m such an idiot…

he had cried often in front of us, just like Kaiti and i did, but this time…it hurt. really fucking hurt. 

„okay. i know…it’s just…my feelings for you are the most important ones. and i guard those…when Kaitlyn rejects my friendship that doesn’t hurt as bad. but with you…“

„huh?“

he doesn’t understand.

„do you like me?“ i ask instead and stare into his eyes.

„yes.“

„Platonically?“ „what?“

„as friends or…more?“

„i asked first…kind of.“ he shrugs and i can’t help but smile.

„i don’t not like you, Jacob.“

he huffs and turns his head away.

„That’s a fucked answer.“

i sigh, „jakey…i-.“

„no, it is. dude, we never talk about this shit-.“

„this shit?“

„us. we. i dunno the pronouns.“

the corners of my mouth jump up and he notices and smiles a little before coming back to reality.

„like, dude. we’re faking it for like 15 years.“ „huh?“

what?

„uh- maybe only i was faking it.“

„Faking what?“ my voice shook with fear.

what did he mean, our friendship? did he secretly hate me all this time?

„like…the plantonic shit you said.“

oh thank god.

„platonic.“ „yeah that.“ he looks at me, waiting for my answer.

wait- so? he? what? i’m confused.

„so?“ he ask again, getting kinda impatient, something rarely seen.

„i…i’m scared you-.“

a scream was heard in the distance.

„fuck did you hear that? was that Abi?“ i immediately ask and grab his hand.

„that was not a good kind of scream.“

i give him a bitch-what look and he mumbles a sorry.

„we have to check it out.“ i drag him with me.

„uh yeah…okay…“

i run into the woods with his fingers in mine.

A/N: somehow i do love miscommunication tropes when i write them...

[thegoblinwitchqueen]

Sharper Than A Serpent’s Tooth

Chapter: 6

Arthur Morgan X OC

18+

Word Count:   3308 

Tw: Sexual assault, religious trauma, rape, ptsd   

AO3

For three days, Cordelia spent her time wasting away as she lay hidden under blankets in an uncomfortable cot that Dutch had so graciously prepared for her. Despite the way the stiff material made her bones ache, she was thankful that her father had welcomed her into his tent without question.

Still, the young woman felt regret that her presence in Horseshoe Overlook had displaced the red haired Irish beauty that typically slept next to Dutch. Her name was Molly O’Shea, and she was Dutch’s lady love and a year younger than Del.

While her beauty captivated the dark haired man, she could not sway Dutch to remove his mentality unstable daughter from her sanctuary. Del remained almost catatonic as she heard the young woman and her father argue outside the canvas tent.

“She hasn’t left In almost three days, Dutch!” Molly exclaimed in frustration to her lover in her Irish inflection. Del enjoyed hearing the melodic rhythm of her speech, even when she and Dutch argued outside the tent. An occurrence that had increased since Del’s arrival. “Has she even bathed or relieved herself? God help you if she’s ruined my cot, Dutch Van der Linde!”

“Now, Ms. O’Shea, she has done no such thing. She is recovering, and lord knows I too had days such as these after I killed my first man.” Dutch’s rich voice seemed to calm the fiery woman. For the moment, at least. “I will speak to her, Molly.”

“Fine, I expect her to be out by tonight. I can’t spend another night sleeping on the ground. I refuse.” Molly was a woman of class and affluence, and she did not enjoy sharing a straw stuffed and thin mattress with the rest of the girls. Del felt the guilt pull on her harder. She had been such an inconvenience to the gang that opened their home to her. This was exactly why she did not want to come to join them in the first place. She felt out of place, imposing, and pitiful.

Del lifted her sore body from the cot and threw her legs over the side like two weights while she removed the pile of blankets that shielded her from the reality of the world around her. She was wearing a white, cotton nightgown that Abigail Roberts had been so kind to give her and she had no intention to change out of it despite having worn it for three days already.

However, Del reluctantly decided that spending the rest of her life turning to ash in her woes and trauma was not beneficial to anyone, especially herself.

The young woman knew that returning to her normal self would be difficult, but she had to try if she wanted to survive. She had done it many years ago, and she could do it again. Someone had said that Time could heal all wounds, but Del believed the scars those wounds created would leave a constant reminder of the pain she once felt.

She was surprised that her legs remembered how to walk, and Del carried herself to the exit of her refuge. It was time for her to stop wallowing. In addition, she did not want to inconvenience Molly or Dutch much longer. She needed to pull her weight, do her part, and adapt to her new life as an outlaw.

Dutch to Del that Arthur had attempted to find the man that witnessed Del’s murder of the stranger, but the witness had long since gone. By her fathers advice, Del had kept a low profile since then, and prayed.

She prayed for her sins, prayed for Reverend Swanson, prayed for the Van der Linde Gang, and prayed for the unwanted memories to stop replaying in her sleep night after night. Del hadn’t prayed in a long time, and a part of her felt that God had long deserted her. Still, she hoped that maybe he still listened. Maybe he heard her and could change the past. All of the past.

The demon that used to torture Del at night while she slept as a young child had decided to reappear, and with a vengeance. The nights had been filled with visions of the strange man, visions of her mothers death rattle, and visions of the Man of God who took her innocence at just nine years old.

The murder had awoken a part of herself that she had believed had died.

The young woman opened the tent flap, and faced the overwhelming brightness of the springtime sun. God,  it was so bright.

“Del, child! You are awake!” Dutch exclaimed with exuberance. He approached his daughter and embraced her tightly against his chest. Del hadn’t paid much attention to the man despite sharing his refuge. She only lifted her head slightly from her pillow when she heard him enter in the late night, snore as he slept, and leave when the birds sang in the morning. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling much better…thank you, Dutch. Molly..” Del nodded to the beauty in greeting. Molly nodded back, and walked past Del into the tent. Del could hear her rummaging around as she inspected the cot for any signs of damage.

It was late in the day when she emerged from the tent. The hustle of the residents and their chores had died down as supper was almost ready. Del scanned the camp, looking to analyze the faces of her new family.

Del had learned the residents of Horseshoe Overlook by their voices. Tilly was soft spoken, Mary Beth sounded like a morning dove, and Karen was as loud as a train. She did not mind their conversations and chatter as they worked around her. Sadie carried grief in her southern drawl.

Abigail had introduced herself early on when she supplied a change of clothes, and Del had spied the small boy she mothered a few times. Jack Marston. He was curious and often poked his messy face through the entrance for a peek at Del as she slept. He was cute, and she didn’t mind the pleasant surprise.

Mr. Pearson was associated with the smell of stew and Del’s stomach growled when he called out for supper. Mrs. Grimshaw was easily distinguishable by the commanding nature of her cadence. Hosea was calming and Del enjoyed the wisdom and stories he gave to the men of the gang.

Lenny sounded young, but charming. Javier sang Mexican folk tunes to the group after supper and Del often tried to repeat the rolling words to herself. John’s voice was like a landslide, gravely and raspy. Bill was hearty and cutting. Micah had a voice that Del couldn’t place. And Kieran was nervous but kind.

And Charles…well he barely spoke. Del could only recognize him from the way his boots sounded when he walked around the camp.

Uncle had attempted to introduce himself to Del multiple times, mostly while intoxicated, but Dutch shooed him away. Del liked Uncle. His off color jokes to her through the canvas barrier made her day brighter. Swanson was safe, thankfully, and the Austrian accent of Mr.Strauss was pleasing to the ears.

All were interesting and individual to their being.

However, Del had not heard the growl of Arthur Morgan as of late. Not since her arrival. Dutch explained to Del that it was Arthur’s nature to disappear for days on end, and that if he stayed away longer than a week he would send Charles or Javier to find the outlaw.

Del could relate to Arthur’s need to embrace the solace that came with traveling.

“We were just about to sit for supper. “ Dutch motioned the young woman to the table where she had rested on the first day she arrived. Charles sat alone at the table, sharpening his tomahawk. He nodded and acknowledged the young woman as she joined him. She remembered the man’s unique features from the night at the saloon.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms.Black. '' Pearson, a heavier set and balding man, said to her as he placed a bowl of stew in front of her. Just as she expected, her abdomen cried loudly for the nourishment. “I’ve never met someone eager for my rabbit stew! Y'know, when I was in the Navy I-“

“Good lord, Pearson! She just emerged from her cave and you’re going to force her back into hibernation with your boring navy stories!” Uncle exclaimed as he joined Del and Charles at the table, a bright smile shown through his gray beard. He smelled of whiskey. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

Del only smiled and used her spoon to eat.  She was still adjusting to human interaction.

“Take your time warming up to us, but I guarantee it won’t take long.” Uncle's laugh was radiant and contagious. Del really liked Uncle.

“Let the poor girl eat! Away with you all! Except you, Mr. Smith.” Mrs. Grimshaw waved her hands at the old man and scattered the curious members. “She will make her acquaintance with you all soon enough!”

Del let a chuckle escape her lips, and she caught a smile tug at Charles stoic features.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better…” he said softly. “We were all worried, but we knew you’d come around.”

“Thank you, Mr. Smith. I do feel better, and I know I’ll be okay.” Del enjoyed the calming aura that Charles carried. The silence between them as they ate was soothing, and not at all awkward. Charles was close to her age, maybe younger. She’d ask him how he ended up an outlaw later.

“Have you seen Arthur?” Del asked as she finished her bowl. Charles took a moment to think before responding with a silent no.

“I wouldn’t worry. I’d focus on how much better the camp feels without his constant complaining.” John’s deep scars across his face surprised Del, and she forced her eyes away to stop staring. He was a handsome man regardless, but Del wondered how he had received such an interesting wound.

“Shut up, John Marston! You’re not helping!” Abigail smacked the man lightly on the back of his head. “Del, I’m sure he will return tonight. He’s been out looking for a few odd jobs.”

“Or robbing some poor bastard.” Hosea chuckled through the pages of his newspaper. “I found a few highlights on his…adventures around Valentine.”

Del remembered the thrill that used to course through her veins when she read articles of her fathers crimes in the papers. She would take the next train to wherever he was last, just hoping she’d manage to catch him before he dissolved in thin air. That proved expensive and it wasn’t until she had purchased Duchess that she—

Duchess!

“My horse!” Del practically knocked the table on its side due to the velocity in which she stood. “I left her at Flatneck Station!”

“Arthur brought the beast with him when he returned with Swanson. She’s a mighty strong thing.” Hosea’s laugh reminded Del of church bells. “She managed to carry the weight of those poor bastards all the way here. She’s been grazing with the others. Kieran has been caring for her well.”

“Thank god.” Del sighed in relief and sat back in her seat. “I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if something happened to her.”

“What’s her name?” Young Jack tugged on the corner of Del’s night gown. “She’s mighty pretty.”

“The Duchess of Strawberry.”

“That’s a funny name! Why is she named that?”

“Well, she’s named that because she looks like the kind of horse a princess rides. And I just like strawberries. And it sounded fancy.” Del enjoyed the sound of the child’s laughter. Satisfied with the answer, he bounded across the clearing to chase after a loose chicken.

Once she finished her meal, Del rose from the table and returned to the tent to gather the simple matching blue skirt and blouse from Abigail. While she did not want to change from the nightgown, she could unfortunately smell herself. And it was not pleasant. It was time for a good washing. As she entered the tent she greeted Molly’s curious gaze with a silent nod. The redhead had reclaimed her cot by removing the sheets and pillows Del had slept in.

“So, you’re Dutch’s daughter.” Molly looked the young woman up and down with an expression Del believed to be jealousy. She wasn’t surprised. Del was the product of a union before Molly, and the way Dutch opened his home and heart to the girl reflected the love he had once felt for Del’s mother. Molly had let the threat of a dead woman cloud her perception, and thus, her interactions with Del. She hoped that eventually the two would see eye to eye and establish a strong bond. After all, Dutch was important to both of them.

“Yes, Ms. O’Shea. I am.” Del said calmly as she gathered her clothes and a bar of soap. Del avoided the stare that bore down on her. “I appreciate that you opened your bed.”

“Well, it wasn’t my decision. But, you’re welcome I guess.” Molly lit a cigarette and powered on the record player. The singing of the opera performer drowned out any future attempts at conversation. Molly didn’t want Del there, and was making it perfectly clear.

Del left the tent and approached Mary Beth who was washing her delicate palms in a barrel filled with water.

“Hi, I apologize. I’m Del.”

“Oh! I’m Mary Beth. Nice to Finally meet you!” Mary Beth was beautiful and her innate kindness showed through her soft lips in the form of a wide smile. Mary Beth’s eyes drifted to the soap bar in Del’s palm. “Oh! Are you looking to wash up?”

“Y-yes! Sorry, I didn’t mean to impose.” Del felt the embarrassment rise to her cheeks.

“Don’t be! Honestly, you can use the bucket to wash up, but if you want a real wash there is a river just beyond the trees. Us girls like to take a quick bath there. “ Mary Beth pointed to a path that had been carved through the trees. Del nodded a thank you and began to make her way to the river. She was right, an actual bath sounded amazing. Del wanted to desperately wash the past three days from her mind and body, and this would be the first step. “Wait! Del! Do you need me to accompany you?”

Mary Beth hastened her step until she caught up with the dark haired young woman. “I can keep watch if you’d like!”

“That’s so kind of you,” Del was thankful that the Van der Linde clan had opened their lives up to her, and she felt sad that she had wasted three precious days in bed when she could have used that time to get to know everyone better. “But, I think I can manage.”

“Well, alright…but holler if you need anything. I’m not much of a fighter but I can send Karen or Tilly to kick a perverts ass.” Mary Beth laughed.

“I have no doubt in my mind!” Del thanked Mary Beth and walked the short distance to the river to bathe.

The river was well hidden by trees and grass that grew tall. The rain had been sparse the past week which resulted in slow waters that didn’t reach up higher than her thigh. Del looked around to verify that she was alone. After she was satisfied, the young woman pulled the white nightgown she wore over her head and entered the water to wash herself and her gown.

The river water was refreshing after she adjusted to the initial biting chill. It soothed the soreness of her back, and she laid amongst the smooth stones to allow the shallow water to run over her. It was cold but it was nice to feel something for the first time in three days.

Del sat up, and put a hand to her healing eye. The pain from the bruise had dulled and she could see in her reflection on the clear water surface that the color had begun to change from dark purple to green.

She sat for a moment, allowing her head to rest on her knees. The trees swayed in rhythm with the wind, and a few birds sang. Only once did she lift her head to observe a black squirrel that startled her as he ran out of a nearby bush.

Finally, Del washed her hair, her body, and her dress, and once she felt a new she exited the river and dressed herself. The setting sun had painted the sky an array of red and pink hues.

The day was over, but Del’s had just started.

Javier had already started his performance of folk songs and acoustic guitar from a small stool he sat in near the crackling fire. The spring chill had started to take hold of the night. Del joined the silent Mr. Smith and Hosea on the log to listen to Javier. He was talented, and She could see that he cared for his Mexican heritage from the poncho he wore.

“You seem well.” Arthur’s deep voice startled her as he sat next to the young woman. In his hands were two bottles of beer. One of which he offered Del.

“Arthur! I didn’t see you come back.” Del graciously took the beer, opened the bottle, and took a giant gulp. The man only smiled as he took his own sip.

“Sorry, Mary Beth said you had gone to clean up when I got back. “

“Where have you been?”

“Valentine, emerald ranch, Lemoyne— a little bit of everywhere I suppose.” Arthur counted with his fingers to demonstrate the vast number of places he had been in just three days. “And I almost got hit by a train saving Swanson that day.”

“A train!” Del was thankful that the outlaw hadn’t died. “It seems like you had quite the adventure.”

“Hmmm.. I suppose so.” Arthur would not look Del in the eye when he spoke to her. She figured that his inability to hold eye contact was from the bruise around her orbital bone. It was relatively unpleasant to look at.

An hour of silence passed as the duo drank their beer and enjoyed the music until Javier and the rest of the crew began to prepare for bed. Del figured Arthur would retire as well. She wasn’t sure where she was going to lay for the night, but she was also wide awake after so much sleep.

Arthur stayed, watching the fire crack in silence next to the young woman. It was pleasant, and calming.

“I saw a few wanted posters around Valentine,” Arthur began as he finished his beer. Del felt her mouth go dry as the words left his mouth. “But I took them down. “

“Thank you.”

“No, I should be thanking you. You gave up your life to save mine.” Arthur reached to touch the faded bruises around his throat. “I never got to properly thank you. “

“You’re welcome. It wasn’t something I had planned. Life is kind of funny that way, huh?”

Another few minutes of silence, and Arthur did not move.

“Are you going to bed?” Del asked while attempting to hold the eyes of the outlaw with her own. Still, he avoided her face. He only shrugged.

“I don’t sleep much. Not anymore anyway.”

That explained why Arthur’s piercing eyes and striking features were plagued by fatigue. The man hadn’t slept in days. “What about you?”

Del shrugged in a mirrored response back to the tired cowboy.

“Probably not. I did that for three days.” Del finished her beer and rubbed her sore knees under her shirt. “I don’t think I can even if I tried.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think I’m going to draw.”