#she just needs a poncho and giant boots

[furiouskettle]

playing NV for the first time and im having a blast so far

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 9,067 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: The prison Warnings: mentions of anxiety, language Summary: Y/N falls ill on a run and Daryl worries about what's wrong.

Your name: submit What is this?

You leaned back against the chain link fence as Daryl pulled out the bolt cutters and cut the chain around the gate. “Okay. Umm… canned pears,” you said, glancing over at the archer. He peered up at you through his curtain of wavy brown hair.

“Pears? Nah. Peaches.”

You straightened up as he heaved the gate open. “I prefer pears.”

“Canned pears are disgusting,” he said, raising his eyebrows at you.

“Fine! If we find some, more for me!” you said. He slung his crossbow back over his shoulder in a well-practiced habit and started to lead the way toward the building. You followed just slightly behind him, fingering the hilt of your knife.

When you reached the small loading dock, Daryl gave you a serious glance and set down his duffel bag. He pulled the bolt cutters out again. You nodded and he banged them harshly on the closed overhead door. You both strained your hearing after the metal rattling ceased. Nothing. It was silent. You grinned at him.

“Well, that’s good news,” you said, relaxing slightly.

“There could still be some in there stuck somewhere. Don’t let your guard down,” he said, clipping the lock off the mechanism keeping the door shut.

“You know I don’t let my guard down,” you countered.

“Mmm,” he hummed, focused on the task at hand. He replaced the bolt cutters in the duffel and checked the magazine of his pistol before sliding it back into the holster at his side.

“French-cut green beans,” you said suddenly.

His blue eyes shot back up to your face. “Green beans?” he repeated. “And what the hell does ‘French-cut’ mean?”

You laughed. “They’re, like, thin sliced lengthwise. Julienne cut.”

Daryl just kept staring at you like you were nuts. “Juli-what? Green beans,” he said again. You grinned. “I love canned green beans! Maybe even more than fresh ones… although I don’t think that’s true anymore since you can’t find fresh anything these days…”

He let out a scoff of a laugh and shook his head, turning back to his crossbow and fitting a bolt into the flight groove. “Yer nuts, ya know that?”

“You like it,” you said, lifting your boot and poking the toe into his butt. It elicited the exact response you wanted, which was a look he meant to be stern, but the crinkles at the corners of his eyes gave away his mutual amusement.

“Sometimes,” he said, straightening up.

“Well, what are you hoping we find in there? Besides canned peaches.”

He shrugged. “I dunno.” He reached for the door latch, getting ready to heave it open.

Your hand shot out and landed on his arm, stopping him. “Nuh uh! That’s not a good answer!”

He sighed, taking in your insistent and expectant expression. “How ‘bout a giant jar of garlic dill pickles?”

You nodded, pleased with his answer. “Much better. Okay. Ready,” you said, unsheathing your knife. Daryl took in the playful light that lingered in your eyes as you readied yourself for whatever you were about to find inside.

He heaved the overhead door open and the two of you stepped into the dim shipment receiving area, shoulder to shoulder. You both clicked on your flashlights and swept them over the room. Daryl led the way to a door in the far wall. “Bet this goes to the storage area,” he said quietly. You nodded, a little anxious, shifting your weight from one hip to the other.

Daryl knocked loudly on the door and again you both strained your hearing, listening for the tell-tale moaning and clawing of the dead. It was intensely quiet. You and Daryl exchanged a look and he reached for the door handle. You gave him a nod and he pushed into the next room.

You were hoping to find the stock of emergency supplies that had been put together shortly before the outbreak became all-consuming. They were to be sent as hurricane relief. But instead of the hoped-for stockpile, you found a mostly empty stockroom instead.

“Shit.” You stepped farther inside and kicked at a piece of discarded shrink wrap on the floor. “I guess someone else heard the same tip we did,” you said, shining your light over the empty shelves.

“Mmm. Or got real damn lucky,” Daryl said, his crossbow still raised. His light illuminating a nearby doorway into the main store area. “C’mon. Let’s just check out here.”

You followed behind him with your flashlight up and you hadn’t moved too far into the room before a wall of horrendous odor hit you. “Oh my God,” you said, pressing a hand over your nose and mouth.

Daryl’s light landed on the decomposing scattered bodies of walkers. “Somebody cleared the place out,” he said, crouching down to look at the inflicted wounds. “They’re all shot.”

“Oh, fuck,” you murmured, gagging at the smell. You doubled over and heaved a few breaths, struggling to stop the bile that was suddenly churning in your stomach.

Daryl glanced back at you over his shoulder, climbing to his feet when he saw how pale you looked. There were beads of sweat across your forehead. “Ya alright?” he asked, rushing over to you, overwhelmed with concern. He gently rubbed your back.

You were afraid if you spoke you were going to vomit so you waved a hand at him and did your best to steel yourself. When you felt like you could talk, you tried to straighten up. “I’m fine. I’m fine. Really. It’s just the smell—Ugh, it hit me hard. I think I just need some air…”

Daryl was staring at you with a deeply furrowed brow. “Ya sure?”

“Fine. I’m fine.” You felt another wave of nausea and shut your eyes against it. “I’ll be outside… Just finish looking around in here and I’ll—I’ll meet you out back,” you said. Daryl sweetly grabbed your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. You met his blue eyes and saw they were darkened with concern. “I’m okay.”

The archer watched you retreat out into the fresh air, puzzled over the situation. He’d never seen you react to the smell of rotting bodies or gore that way. Hell, he’d seen you open up a walker’s stomach to check for meal contents. He’d seen you put down countless numbers of dead ones with an unhesitating knife to the skull. Just then he heard the unmistakable sound of you retching outside.

“Y/N?” He rushed outside to see you doubled over on the pavement a short distance from the door.

You straightened up at the sound of his bootsteps, your knees feeling a little shaky.

“You’re sick,” he said, a shadow growing on his face. “We gotta go. Get ya home.”

You looked miserable. “It’s just a stomach thing. It’s not a big deal,” you said, pulling out your water and rinsing out your mouth.

“Maybe it’s somethin’ ya ate. What’d ya have this mornin’?” he asked with anxiety.

You shook your head. “Can’t be that.”

“Food poisonin’? Why not?”

“Because I didn’t have anything,” you said, shoving your canteen back in your bag. “Did you finish up in there?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Nah, but don’t matter. I’m sure whoever put down all those walkers cleaned it out. Ain’t nothin’ gonna be in there anyway. C’mon. Let’s just get ya home,” he said, taking your pack from you and slinging it over his shoulder.

“Daryl, we came all this way. Don’t you want to—”

“Nah. What I want is to get ya home. You’re sick. C’mon,” he insisted. His face was clouded with worry as you wiped a shaky hand over your brow, surprised at the clamminess of your own skin.

You nodded. “Okay. Alright.”

You were still a little nauseous the whole drive back to the prison. You had the window down so the fresh air was on your face which helped some, but the churning in your stomach never really stopped. Daryl kept glancing over at you the whole time he was driving, checking the color of your face, watching carefully for any sign that you were worsening.

He reached over and rested his hand on your knee. You caught his blue eyes and smiled weakly. “Don’t look so worried. It’s nothing. Probably just the stagnant air in there or something,” you said, trying to reassure him.

He wasn’t convinced, but he nodded.

He felt better as soon as he had you back behind the safe walls of the prison. His hand rested lightly on your lower back as you both headed up toward the main building. Daryl spotted Hershel and Carol in the yard and stopped short. “Hey—I’m gonna grab Hershel to come take a look at ya. Go on and lay down,” he said, inclining his chin toward the building.

“I’m fine,” you said for what felt like the hundredth time. “You’re really making too much of this,” you said.

“Maybe. But better safe than sorry,” he said.

You gave him a weak smile and nodded, conceding to his sweet concern. “See you in a few?”

He nodded, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze before he jogged off toward Hershel.

It wasn’t long before he arrived at the space the two of you had claimed, Hershel and Carol in tow. You were laying on the mattress with his poncho draped over you. You looked tired, but Daryl was relieved to see that some of the color looked like it had come back into your face.

Hershel pulled up a chair as you sat up. “Feeling a bit under the weather? Let’s see if you’ve got a fever. After having kids, every parent turns into a human thermometer,” he said. He pressed a hand to your forehead. “No fever. Any other symptoms? Headache? Weakness? Feeling dizzy?”

You shook your head. “No. A bit tired. And just had some nausea.”

“She was pale and clammy before,” Daryl drawled, watching with worry. “She looks better now.”

Hershel nodded. “I see.”

“Really, I think it was just the smell of those rotting walkers. The air in there was heavy with decomp. It was like I could frickin’ taste it. Ugh, it was horrible,” you said. Your stomach turned again a little as you thought about it and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Hershel nodded. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything to worry about,” Hershel said.

Daryl shifted. “Ya sure?” the archer pressed him.

“I’m sure. Why don’t you go on and help Rick with that new water line? We’ll just get her some water and something to eat. Make sure she rests. But I don’t think there’s anything troubling.”

Daryl considered you for a moment and you gave him a smile. He seemed to feel reassured and he nodded. “Alright.” He crossed the space to you quickly and leaned down to place a kiss on your cheek. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he said, giving you one more parting glance. You smiled at him again and watched the wings on the back of his vest disappear down the stairs.

“So, I’m okay?” you asked, adjusting Daryl’s poncho over your lap. You watched Hershel and Carol exchange a look. You stomach twisted. “What? What is it?”

“It was the smell of the walkers that set off the nausea?” Carol asked.

“Yeah…” You stared at the two of them, perplexed. “What, you’re surprised that a bunch of rotting corpses in a closed-up store with no ventilation made me puke?”

“Well… a little, to be honest,” Hershel said gently.

You gave him a questioning look and then stared at Carol.

“We’re not saying that isn’t understandable. It’s just that you have never reacted that way before. And we’ve all seen you deal with rotting corpses before plenty of times,” Carol said. “You’ve never gotten sick.”

“I don’t get what you’re driving at. So, maybe I have a little stomach virus or something?” you said. “Is something wrong with me?”

“No. No, honey,” Carol said, grabbing your hand. She took a breath, her eyes searching your face. “Y/N, could you be… pregnant?”

You froze, a sudden, struck expression on your face. The doctor and Carol watched your eyes go a little round and wide, flitting back and forth as your mind whirred, like you were searching for the answer in the air over their shoulders. “Oh my God.”

Hershel and Carol watched your reaction carefully. You were as still as a stone statue.

“Oh my God,” you said again. “I didn’t even—” You shook your head slightly. “I didn’t realize, but—” You pressed a hand to your mouth. “Between never having enough to eat and the constant stress, I didn’t even notice that I—I mean, it’s not like we’ve been trying.”

“So, I’ll take that as a maybe,” Hershel said nodding. There was a spark in his eye as he peered at you kindly. “We’ll see about getting you a test.”

You looked back at Carol, your mouth dropping open and your eyes a little frantic. “Carol, what do I—? Daryl… He—" If it was true, you had no idea how the archer would react. Hell, at that moment you didn’t even know how you would react.

She gave you a concerned smile and squeezed your hand between her palms. “Let’s just take this a step at a time,” she said gently. “Okay?”

You gulped and nodded, suddenly reeling with anxiety. “Okay. Okay…”

Hershel climbed to his feet. “You rest. Carol and I will figure out getting a test for you. Probably just ask Glenn to make a run.” He read the anxiety on your face. “Either way this goes, it’s your decision what happens next,” he said gently. “Daryl is a good man. Try not to worry,” he said.

You nodded. “I know. I know… Okay.”

Carol followed Hershel out and you laid down on the mattress, pulling Daryl’s poncho up over you and curling your fingers into it, pressing your face close to the fabric and breathing in his smell. You laid awake for a while with your mind spinning, wondering how he would react to the news. It was always easy to picture your future with Daryl, even during what was seemingly the end of the world, but you’d never thought about the details beyond the two of you being together. And with the history of his parents, what he had gone through, you didn’t know what he would want as far as a family… That had never mattered to you before, but now that you were staring the possibility in the face you were suddenly wrecked with nerves.

Sometime later, the archer arrived to check on you, approaching the space you shared in the lofted area of the cell block quietly, expecting you to be sleeping. But he was surprised to see that, although you were in bed, your eyes were open and you rolled over at the sound of his quiet steps.

He was sweaty and coated in dust and mud that was in various stages of drying. He set his bow down beside the bed. “Ya ain’t sleepin’?” he drawled.

You shook your head.

“Why not?”

You shrugged. “Just couldn’t.”

His brow furrowed. “How are ya feelin’?”

“Fine. Just a little tired.” You smiled at his dirty and somewhat disheveled appearance. “Come here,” you said softly.

He glanced down at his mud-coated clothes and arms, and looked back up at you like you were nuts for that request. “M’filthy,” he said.

“I don’t care,” you replied. “Come here.” You moved over to make room for him to lay down beside you.

Daryl gave you a look, his blue eyes soft, and bent down to at least pull off his boots. He laid down facing you and his heart leapt as you moved into him closely, your arm draping over his waist. You moved your leg until it was tangled between his. He happily breathed in the scent of your hair.

“Ya okay? Really?” he asked, his deep voice a little heavy with gravel—the result of his concern.

You pulled back from him just enough so you could look into his handsome face. “Mhm. I’m fine. Really.”

He nodded and seemed to relax some, draping his arm over you, mirroring your position. You nuzzled into him again and for the first time since Hershel and Carol had left you alone, your mind quieted.

You felt him place a kiss in your hair and you smiled reflexively.

“I need to clean up. I’m gettin’ our bed all muddy,” he said. You felt the rumble of the bass in his voice.

“Can I come?” you asked softly. “I’ve felt gross since the run.”

He glanced down at you and nodded. “If I ever say no to that, ya can assume I’ve lost my damn mind.” He gave you a fond look and smoothed your hair gently. “Ya sure ya just don’t wanna sleep?”

“Mhm. I’m sure. Besides, I won’t be able to sleep unless you’re right here anyway.”

Daryl smiled, feeling a swell of affection for you and the way you always made him feel wanted and needed. “Alright. C’mon then.”

So, the two of you made your way to the showers and slipped into a private stall. Daryl pulled you into him under the stream of water and kissed your bare shoulders and up your neck, his arms smoothing over the curves of your sides and landing on the angles of your hips. You scrubbed away the mud from his skin and he smoothed the soapy lather over yours, loving the way his fingers glided over the shape of you. When you were both clean, Daryl shut off the water and wrapped you into him with his big towel causing you to laugh. “Gotcha,” he drawled.

“You do.” Your hand landed flush on his strong chest, your fingers splayed out, and you looked up at him, the corners of your eyes crinkled slightly in a smile. Daryl’s heart jumped every time you looked at him like that. He leaned forward and left a kiss on your nose, watching as your eyelashes fluttered closed.

You looked up at him again as he grabbed your towel for you and you both dried off before pulling on some clean clothes. Daryl watched you running a comb through your hair and studied the graceful movements of your hands. “Hey,” he said softly, drawing your eyes to him immediately. “Ya know I love ya, right?” He still looked a little bashful every time he said it. You didn’t mind.

Your face lit with a gentle smile and you closed the space to him in an instant, clasping his face in both of your hands. “I know. And you know, I love you, right?” you said.

Daryl’s lips found yours and you sank into each other for a moment. “I know,” he said when you broke apart. “C’mon. Ya need somethin’ to eat and then sleep.” He laced his fingers with yours and pulled you toward the cell block.

After a quiet supper with the rest of the group, the two of you wandered outside into the evening air to enjoy the stars for a few moments before heading up to bed. Daryl sat down on the soft grass and tilted his head at you, beckoning for you to come sit up against him. You sank down in front of him and leaned back. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder.

One thing Daryl always loved about you was that you didn’t need to fill every silence. Just being close to one another filled each of you up in ways that idle chatter never could. But when he did want to talk, you listened intensely, really listened to him in ways he wasn’t used to. “I’ve been thinkin’,” he said softly, pausing to anxiously chew his bottom lip for a moment, “if the outbreak hadn’t happened, you and I probably never would have even looked at each other.”

“Hmm. How do you mean?”

“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking about how best to explain what he meant. “I was too busy runnin’ around bein’ a piece of shit with Merle. And you—we were in different worlds, ya know. We probably never woulda even had the chance of brushin’ elbows. But if we did,” he shrugged, “I don’t think ya woulda looked at me twice.” He ran his hand down your bare arm, relishing the feeling of your soft skin. “Hell, I didn’t think ya would look at me twice even now…”

You turned and looked over at him, a sad but thoughtful expression on your face. “It’s hard to know, and maybe you’re right, that we would have never met… but if we did, I think I would have seen you just the same way. It’s impossible not to see you, Daryl.” You clasped his face and stroked your thumb along his strong jaw.

His eyes were flickering between yours and he felt that familiar bloom of warmth starting in the center of his chest, right between his lungs, and growing outward. He nudged his nose up at you, in awe of you always, and you acquiesced happily and kissed him. “Let’s get some rest,” he drawled when you finally broke apart. “C’mon.”

Daryl stood and pulled you up, keeping your hand captured in his, his thumb smoothing over the back of your hand as you made your way up to bed.

_ _ _ _ _ _

When you woke up the next morning you could tell it was much later than you usually slept in. And the fact that Daryl wasn’t beside you and that you hadn’t woken up when he stirred was also unusual. You were a light sleeper, and the two of you generally woke and got up around the same time. This sent your anxiety whirling again.

You got up and threw on some clothes, heading down to the lower level of the cell block and finding Carol and Beth sitting at one of the tables with Judith.

“Morning, sleepy head,” Carol said with a smile.

You rubbed your eyes and sighed. “Yeah, geez. What time is it? I don’t even know when I last slept in this late.”

She nodded and gave you a pointed look.

Beth only smiled up at you. “You must have needed it then,” she said kindly.

“I guess so…” You glanced around but the cell block was empty. “Where’s Daryl?”

“He’s on the fence with Rick. Little herd piled up overnight,” Carol explained.

“Mmm,” hummed in acknowledgment.

“Maggie and Glenn ran into town for some supplies,” Carol said, shooting you another meaningful look.

You nodded. “Great. Okay.” You anxiously bit the inside of your cheek.

“You want some breakfast? There’s some oatmeal we made,” Beth offered.

You shook your head. “No, I’m alright. I’m gonna go see how things are going on the fence I think.”

“Y/N, you should eat something,” Carol said.

You waved her off, already headed toward the door. “I’m fine! I’ll eat something in a bit!” Truthfully you had no appetite at all. This waiting, the not knowing, was agonizing.

You stepped out into the bright sunshine and set out toward the two figures on the perimeter fence. There was a group of walkers still clawing at the chain link, but it looked like Rick and Daryl had it under control. You grasped the interior chain link and hollered at Daryl and Rick over the mawing and growling sounds. “Best way to start the day?”

They both spun and you grinned at them. They were sweaty and splattered with walker blood, each clutching a metal rod in their hands, the end covered with a bit of gore. You felt a spin of nausea and avoided looking at the crimson dripping from their weapons.

“Morning exercise,” Rick said with a smile. He turned back and continued the task.

“Yer up,” Daryl said with a smile. He came over, wiped his hand on the red rag he always had in his back pocket, and then rested his fingers over yours, which were poking through the fence on his side.

“You should have woken me up! I can’t believe I slept in this late,” you said.

“Nah. Ya needed it,” he drawled. “Ya were out cold. Didn’t even move when I got up. Besides, we’ve got this handled. Ain’t no reason ya need to be out here.”

You nodded. “I see that.”

“Should be a done in a bit,” he said, glancing back over his shoulder at the growing pile of dead ones on the other side of the fence. Looking back at you, Daryl thought you looked a little pale. “Ya feelin’ alright?” he asked, his brow furrowing a little.

You nodded. “Mhm. Fine. I’m gonna just go see if Hershel needs help in the garden,” you replied. “See ya in a few?”

The archer nodded and watch you start to turn away. “Hey—just take it easy, alright?”

You laughed. “I think harvesting cucumbers is about as easy as it gets!” You gave him one more wide smile and headed for the vegetable garden. “Hey, Carl,” you said, as you came through the gate and passed him. “What are we harvesting today?”

Hershel glanced up at you and gave you a small smile. “Cucumbers. Peppers. Those tomatoes could use some weeding if you’re up for it,” he said. He surveyed you carefully and, like Daryl, did think you looked a little pale. But you seemed otherwise bright and alert as you set about your task.

But you hadn’t been working in the garden long when you started to feel a bit dizzy. A cold sweat broke out at your hairline and on the back of your neck and you knelt heavily in the soil a little suddenly.

Hershel noticed immediately. “Y/N?” He got up and moved over to you. He watched you wipe a shaky hand across your forehead. “You alright?”

You heaved in a deep breath and forced it out slowly. “Just feel sick all of a sudden. I’m okay. I’m fine,” you said, straightening back up. But as soon as you tried to stand your knees felt weak.

Hershel grabbed your arm to steady you. “Whoa. Easy now. Alright.” He turned to Carl. “Carl, go run and get Daryl.”

“No. No, I’m fine… Don’t bother Daryl with this. It’s nothing. I’m alright. I’ll just head back inside and rest,” you argued.

“You sure? It’s no bother to Daryl to come look after you,” Hershel said, giving you a pointed look.

“I’m fine. Really. I guess I do need some rest. It’s nothing,” you argued.

Hershel reluctantly released his gentle hold on your arm and you made your way back inside. Carol stood up when you came in and you read concern on her face at the sight of you. You let out a wry laugh.

“Wow, do I really look that bad?” you said, wiping at the sweat on your brow again with the back of your hand. Beth glanced over and she too looked worried after studying you. “I’m okay. Just gonna go lay down. I must just be a little sick... Caught some virus or something.” You climbed the stairs and collapsed back into bed, again grabbing Daryl’s poncho and cuddling up to it.

You dozed in and out for a while but woke when you heard hurried steps on the stairs. Looking up you saw Daryl in front of you, his blue eyes narrowed and obvious worry on his countenance. You leaned up on one elbow as Hershel came into view behind him.

Daryl sank down on the edge of the bed next to you and pushed your hair out of your face, smoothing it gently. “Ya are sick,” he said.

“I think she might be a little anemic,” Hershel said. “She needs iron. Red meat would be best.”

Daryl glanced over at him and nodded. “Alright. I can do that,” he said, grateful for a task that would be helpful to you when he was feeling helpless. He looked back at you. “I want ya to stay in bed today. Rest,” he said softly, his eyes flitting between yours. “Ya gonna be alright if I go out and hunt?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

He gulped. “Alright. Promise you’ll stay in bed?”

You looked up at the sweet worry on his face. “I promise. Promise you’ll be safe out there?” You hated the idea of him going out and hunting alone.

“I promise. I’ll come back to ya.” He smoothed your hair again and then leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes briefly at the sensation.

He shouldered his crossbow and look at Hershel. “Thanks, doc,” he said. You watched the wings on the back of his vest disappear down the stairs.

You glanced up at Hershel who set a glass of water down next to the bed for you. “You really think I’m anemic?”

He nodded. “I do. Fits all your symptoms. All of them except you getting sick yesterday.”

“Oh… okay.”

Hershel gave you a kind look. “Glenn and Maggie should be back any minute now. I’ll come and check on you in a bit.”

You dozed on and off for a while until you heard some activity down the stairs and you sat up in bed. Quiet, steady footsteps on the stairs approached and Maggie came into view with a small bag for you. “Got what you needed,” she said.

You sat up, your stomach churning nervously, and accepted the bag from her. “Thanks,” you said. She hovered for a moment.

“Do you know what you’re hopin’ for?” she asked.

You shook your head and glanced up at her. “Not really…”

She nodded. “Well, either way it goes, we’re all here for you. And I know Daryl is too, no matter what.”

You gave her a small smile and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks.” You stared back down at the bag in your hand. “Well, better get it over with I suppose,” you said, standing up and heading for the bathroom.

A short while later you were back in the space you and Daryl shared, the pregnancy test sitting on the chair next to the bed. You couldn’t stop switching between sitting and anxiously bouncing your leg and pacing along the side of the bed wringing your hands. You were obsessively checking the time and it felt like it had decided to move like cold molasses. You were a bundle of nerves, but finally it was time to check the results. You forced a nervous breath in and out and picked up the test.

Positive. It was positive.

You felt like your knees were about to give out and you sat down on the bed hard, staring at that little plus sign.

Your heart was racing, and even though you were terrified, and so nervous wondering what Daryl’s reaction would be that you thought you might pass out, you broke into a teary smile as you stared at the results.

You replaced the test on the chair beside the bed and flopped backwards onto the mattress, staring up at the gray concrete of the ceiling and watching the shifting light and shadows. Whether it was simply from the relief of knowing or a result of the stress leading up to it combined with the toll on your body, you fell asleep not long after, cuddled up to Daryl’s poncho.

_ _ _ _ _ _

It was almost sunset when Daryl came back from his hunt, hauling a small deer over his shoulder. He had told himself he wasn’t coming back until he had some meat for you and everyone else (but mostly for you…) and he had succeeded. Usually hunting or tracking quieted his mind, but the whole time he was outside the prison fences he had been worrying about you. Before the outbreak, it wasn’t a big deal to get the flu or some random virus. But now, without access to modern medical care, something simple could turn into a big fucking problem real quick. You’d never had a problem with anemia before, if that’s what this was, and he didn’t really understand why you suddenly would. But he also knew that you were the type of person who would choose to go without a decent meal so Beth or Carl could have a second helping. He made a mental note to ask Maggie and Glenn about whether they saw any place on their run today that might have meds or supplements. Better to search out what they could before you needed it desperately.

The sun was low and sinking fast beyond the tree line as Daryl nodded to Carol as she closed the gate behind him.

“That’s a good find!” she said enthusiastically, looking at the deer slung over his shoulder.

“Yeah. How’s Y/N?”

“Hershel’s been checking on her. She’s been sleeping all afternoon,” Carol said.

Daryl nodded. “Good. I was afraid she’d be up tryin’ to help on the frickin’ fence or somethin’. Stubborn,” he drawled. He started up toward the prison and left the deer outside to be butchered. He wanted to see you before he did anything else.

It was quiet in the cell block. Most of the group was winding down for the evening, sprawled out with a book or busying themselves with some quiet activity. Rick gave Daryl a nod as he came in and continued bouncing and shushing Judith.

Climbing the stairs to your shared space, Daryl could tell you must still be asleep. Normally you’d have been calling out to him already with some greeting, or you’d be waiting at the top of the stairs with a one of those smiles that killed him every time.

He smiled as you came into view on the bed. You were partially curled up on your side, cuddled up to his poncho tightly, your fingers curled into the fabric and your cheek pressed to it. He pulled off his vest and tossed it on the chair beside the bed, debating about whether or not to wake you up and ask how you were, when he heard something clatter to the floor.

He bent and felt around under the chair and his hand closed on it. Straightening up, he finally looked at what was in his hand. Even Daryl knew what that little plus sign meant. He glanced back over at your sleeping figure.

This was—was this—suddenly, everything made sense.

The archer rushed down the stairs and toward the exit. Rick looked up and frowned at his urgency. “Daryl?” But the archer didn’t even stop to look at him.

Outside, he grabbed his crossbow from where he had laid it down by the deer, shouldered it, and let himself into the alley between the fences, running toward the vehicles waiting on the outside.

Carol saw him and her stomach immediately twisted. “Daryl?” She rushed toward the fence, but by the time she got there he was already slamming the driver door of the SUV and peeling out, the tires scattering gravel behind the car. Carol gripped the chain link fence so hard her knuckles were white and stared at the taillights disappearing into the dark beyond the lazily drifting cloud of dust. Her stomach dropped.

She ran the whole way back up to the prison and met Rick on his way out. “What’s going on?” Carol asked desperately.

“I was just coming to ask Daryl that same question,” Rick said, his eyes searching the yard and perimeter fence for his broad-shouldered frame. “He just went hurrying out of the cellblock.”

“I saw! He just took the SUV and peeled out of here,” Carol said, her eyes wide and worried. “It’s dark! Where could he possibly be going right now that couldn’t wait?”

A shadow darkened Rick’s expression. He shook his head and shrugged, meeting Carol’s eyes again, at a complete loss. “Better ask Y/N.”

Carol suddenly realized—like a flash of lightning. She nodded to Rick. “Let me go talk to her.”

Carol climbed the stairs to you and Daryl’s space in the cellblock. You were fast asleep on the bed and she gently touched your shoulder to wake you. You stirred and glanced over at her through sleepy eyes. You must have read something on her face because you shot up in bed immediately. “What? What is it? Is Daryl okay? Is he back?” You could tell by the lack of slanted light coming through the high windows that it must be dark.

Carol didn’t know how to tell you this. “He’s fine. He came back with a deer. And then—all of a sudden he just barreled out of here again. He took the SUV.”

You suddenly realized that Carol was sitting on the chair where the pregnancy test had been. Your heart plummeted into your stomach. “Wait—where—where’s the test? It was—it was right there where you’re sitting,” you said.

Carol shook her head. “I didn’t see it. There was nothing here when I came up. Just Daryl’s vest over the back here—”

Carol took in your wide-eyed expression. You jumped up off the bed and starting searching around the floor, reaching under the mattress. “It was right there. I set it there.” You stood up, frozen, one hand clutched to your head. Shit. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Daryl came back, and you were asleep, and he must have seen the test and— “He—He came back and I was asleep and he saw it,” you murmured. “He must have seen it and… he just ran off?” There were tears stinging in your eyes now.

Carol stood up and gently grasped your shoulders. “Try not to jump to any conclusions.”

“Carol, it was positive.” You just stared at her, your eyes still wide. “It was positive! What else am I supposed to think? He came back and he saw a positive pregnancy test and he just—he just left?” Your voice was desperate.

The only thing Carol could think of doing was to grab you tightly and hug you. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay! Don’t panic!”

Part of you knew Daryl would never just leave, but another part of you knew this was completely uncharted territory. You honestly didn’t know how he would react to the news… You couldn’t stop cursing yourself for leaving the stupid test out like that and letting yourself fall asleep. Anyone could have walked up and seen it, and of course it had to be Daryl. You snatched his poncho off the bed and started toward the stairs.

“What are you doing?” Carol demanded.

“I’m gonna go wait,” you said. “I’ll be in the east guard tower…And Carol—Please don’t say anything about this to anyone… Just—not yet. Not now.” You breezed past Rick on your way out, ignoring him calling your name.

Carol met him at the bottom of the stairs. “What’d she say?” Rick drawled.

Carol shrugged. “She was sleeping. Maybe—maybe Daryl is worried about her being sick and decided to go look for supplies,” she offered weakly.

Rick let out a disbelieving sigh. “At night? By himself?”

All Carol could do was shrug.

“How is Y/N? And where’d she just rush off to?”

Carol nodded. “She’s alright. Worrying about Daryl now obviously. She wanted some fresh air and to watch for him so she headed up to the guard tower.”

The worry creases on Rick’s forehead didn’t ease. “What the hell is he thinking going off by himself at night?”

Carol shook her head. “He probably wasn’t.”

Up in the guard tower, with Daryl’s poncho swaddled tightly around you, you sat out in the open night air and stared at the road that led up to the gate. A few times you even tricked yourself into thinking there were distant headlights approaching, but when you looked again everything was just as still and black as it had been a moment before. You heard the door creak open behind you and Hershel stepped out.

He sighed and looked up at the inky blue-black sky, dotted with innumerable stars. “Ah. It’s nice and cool out here now,” he said, leaning back against the wall of the tower. He bent and set a bowl of some noodles and vegetables beside you. “You better eat something,” he said.

“No appetite right now, funny enough,” you said.

He could see the rigid tension in your shoulders and he sank down next to you with some effort, adjusting his prosthetic leg with a sigh. “I can see you’re getting ahead of yourself,” he said gently. “Trying to guess the answer before you can even ask the question.”

You finally looked over at him, an anxious expression on your face. “Did Carol tell you?”

“No. She didn’t have to. I can guess well enough,” he said, a small smile on his lips. Hershel turned his gaze out over the yard. “You know there was a time, back at the farm, when I wasn’t sure about Daryl. You can imagine this old farmer was a little skeptical of his rough-around-the-edges, hot-headed biker attitude,” he chuckled to himself. “But time and time again, he came through for me and my girls. He watched out for all of you and he kept us safe even when we weren’t his to care about yet. He certainly saw Shane for what he was before anyone else.” Hershel breathed in a deep breath of the cool night air and let it out slowly. “And I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he’d do anything for you.”

You could feel tears burning in your eyes again, and you adjusted the poncho around your shoulders.

“Whatever reason he had for tearing out of here like he did, I promise you that he will be back,” Hershel said strongly.

You wiped one tear that leaked onto your cheek and sniffled, trying your hardest to blink away the rest. You nodded. “Yeah. I just—I don’t know how to—how to do any of this,” you said. “And we’ve never even talked about it so I don’t know what he wants. What if—”

Hershel chuckled again. “What ifs can lead you down a dangerous road of thinking. Let’s just wait and see, hmm?”

You gulped and nodded, staring back out into the night. “You don’t have to wait with me,” you said.

“I’m going to sit here until you eat something. Doctor’s orders.” You could hear a smile in his voice and you begrudgingly picked up the bowl he had brought for you and picked at the food. Hershel smiled.

When the bowl was empty, Hershel took it from you and pulled himself to his feet again. He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Everything is going to be just fine. You’ll see.”

You felt like you had been waiting up there for days, but it was really only a few hours. You were reeling with worry, but this time when you thought you saw headlights and looked again they were still there.

You jumped up and stared as the SUV came into view and stopped at the gate. Turning on your heel, you started to rush toward the stairwell but you suddenly froze. What the hell were you going to say? What the hell was Daryl going to say? You were gripped with anxiety again as the multitude of what ifs you had been fighting since waking up suddenly traveled through your brain in single file at light speed. You were frozen, staring at the door for… you didn’t even know how long when it suddenly started to open.

You startled and jumped back with a small gasp of surprise. Daryl’s broad shoulders emerged through the widening gap. “Y/N?”

You gulped and stared back at him, anxiously chewing the inside of your cheek.

He stopped just inside the door and took in your wide eyes and obvious distress. His brow furrowed heavily, casting a shadow over his narrowed blue eyes. He gulped and stepped closer to you.

You cleared your throat, hoping your voice wouldn’t come unnaturally high or strangled sounding despite the constriction in your throat. “You’re back,” you said softly. It was the only thing you could force out.

Daryl looked puzzled. “Of course I’m back,” he said, stepping closer. He drew his bottom lip in between his teeth and worried it between his teeth for a moment. You watched as he reached in his back pocket and pulled out the pregnancy test.

Your heart was pounding.

“I, uhh—I found this. Ya were asleep and—” He gulped. “It’s positive, right? Means you’re pregnant.” It really wasn’t a question.

Daryl could see your chest heaving a little with your nervous breaths. You nodded.

Daryl stared down at it for a long moment before he looked back up at you. “What do you wanna do?” he asked.

You stared at him. He looked so calm while you felt like you were spinning. “I don’t—I don’t know—I—” You forced in a breath. “We’ve never talked about what you want. Hell, we’ve never talked about what I want either…”

“I know what I want. I want you. That’s more than I could ever ask for,” he said, stepping closer toward you again. “But this? This is your decision. And whatever you decide is fine by me.”

You were almost overwhelmed with emotion immediately, just hearing him speak those words. Daryl saw it and he couldn’t resist breaking the buffer of space between you any longer. He clasped your face in both hands as the tears finally broke free of your eyes and traveled down your cheeks. “Hey. S’alright,” he murmured to you. He wrapped you up in his arms and pulled you against him tightly. “M’right here.”

You pulled back just enough to look up into his eyes. “You’re really okay with… either way?” you asked him, uncertainty still plain in your eyes.

He nudged his nose up in a nod. “Ya. Promise.” He smoothed his hands over your back.

You leaned your head against his chest for a moment and listened to his strong and steady heart. Daryl gently stroked your hair, enjoying the feeling of you against him and the silky strands of your hair under his fingertips.

You squeezed your eyes shut, part of you still bracing against some worst-case scenario you knew would never come, but that nagging doubt wouldn’t be completely silenced. Your voice was soft, but Daryl still heard it as clear as day. “I think—I want to do this. With you.” You pulled back slightly and looked up, meeting Daryl’s waiting blue eyes. You had barely gotten the words out before he had wrapped you up again and picked you up off your feet, hugging you so tightly he squeezed a little air from your lungs. You let out a surprised laugh as he set you back down, about to speak again, but he clasped your face and kissed you feverishly before you could start. It was like a warm shot of bourbon or that first warm day of sunshine after a long winter. It was urgent and soft at the same time, pleading and needy but affirming, his fingers in your hair.

When he finally pulled back there was a smile crinkling the corner of his blue eyes as they flickered between yours. You were sure you had a slight look of shock on your face still despite the bewildered smile you were now wearing.

“We’re doin’ this?” he asked, not releasing his gentle hold on your face.

You nodded. “We are.” Your heart was pounding. “Oh my God, we are…”

Daryl kissed you again and you sunk into it deeply this time. His hands came to rest on your hips and you stared up at him, still feeling a little like you were spinning. “I didn’t know how you’d—because of your life growing up…” you trailed off.

He nodded. “I know. But I ain’t my dad,” he said forcefully. “You’ve shown me that more than anyone.”

“I woke up and Carol said you just went running off and I—I didn’t know what to think when I realized the test was gone and that you must have seen it,” you admitted.

Daryl’s brow furrowed and he shook his head as he looked at you. “Ya thought I would leave ya?”

“No! No, I didn’t—but then—I just—I guess I got scared… This whole thing is a little overwhelming.”

“Hey. C’mere,” he said, wrapping you up in his arms again and pressing you against him. “I ain’t never leavin’ ya. Never. You’re—you’re my everythin’.”

You breathed him in for a moment before pulling back. “Well, then where did you go?”

One corner of his mouth twitched up and he laced his fingers with yours. “C’mon. I’ll show ya.”

You followed him down the stairs and back into the prison to the cellblock. It seemed that everyone was already asleep except for the two of you, satisfied once Daryl was back that they didn’t need to wait up worrying anymore like you were. When you climbed the stairs into your space, Daryl bent down and pulled a duffel bag out from under the bed. It looked like it was stuffed full. He knelt down beside it and unzipped it.

You stared down at the contents and then met his blue eyes. “This is what you were doing?”

He nudged his nose up at you in a nod, pressing his lips together a little nervously. Now you were the one who grabbed him and kissed him desperately.

The bag was full of things you would need during a pregnancy and for a baby; pre-natal vitamins, bottles, pacifiers, blankets, diapers. Your heart swelled as you looked down at it and then back at Daryl again. You shook your head. “You just—you amaze me,” you said.

He shrugged, still a little bashful when you directly complimented him even after all this time. He reached back under the bed and pulled out a second bag. You gave him a questioning look. “What is that?”

“In case ya decided the other way,” he said. “S’mostly just some random things ya like. Books and…” He shrugged again.

“So—Baby was Plan A?” you asked him as he climbed to his feet.

“You were Plan A. Ya always were and ya always will be.”

You looped your arms around his neck and his hands reflexively landed gently on your lower back. “But—you were hoping—?”

He paused thoughtfully for a moment and then nodded. “If ya woulda asked me a week ago I don’t know what I woulda said. But as soon as I picked up that damn test up and looked at it… And then I looked at ya just layin’ there asleep, all wrapped up with my poncho the way you were… I knew what I was hoping for. But I mean it when I say that anything you decided would be fine. You’re the one who as to do the hard part.”

You arched up onto your toes and kissed him again, sliding your fingers into his hair and feeling calm and happy again for the first time since you had sent out for the test. “How’d I get so lucky finding you?” you asked him quietly. Daryl felt his heart skip a beat and electricity zipped up his back. You always did that to him. Easily. Still.

“I ask myself that all the damn time,” he drawled. “Now c’mon. Ya need rest.”

You nodded and realized that despite sleeping most of the day, you were exhausted. Anxiety will do that… “I suppose you think this means you’re gonna be able to boss me around now?” you joked, settling into bed.

“Damn right,” he said with a smirk, pushing the duffels of supplies back under the mattress. “Gotta make sure ya take care of yerself and the little one. I’m gonna boss ya around all the damn time.” He kicked off his boots and slipped into bed next to you, immediately moving until his body was pressed against yours and he could wrap an arm over you. You slipped your fingers between his. “Gonna tell Hershel he can boss ya around too,” he joked. “And Carol. And Rick. And Maggie. And—”

“Alright, that’s enough,” you laughed.

Daryl smiled to himself and kissed your neck. “We’re doin’ this,” he said softly.

You sighed contentedly and nodded. “We are.” And that night you had no trouble sleeping.

[ratsoh-writes]

My curiosity got me, so here is my submission for a match up.  Sorry it’s so long!  I look forward to seeing your reasoning.

PERSONALITY TRAITS:

MOM FRIEND:  I’m the friend that is almost over prepared for any situation and is protective, usually keeping others out of too much trouble or danger, but not stopping them from doing that stupid thing.  Some people will only learn from doing it and so long as it won’t seriously injure or kill them, go for it.  And I mean I am seriously prepared for most situations:  I have fluffy throw blankets and pillows in my car for those who get cold, extra towels just in case we somehow get wet, umbrellas/ponchos for those who need one, snacks/water just in case someone gets hungry/thirsty, first aid kit for small injuries, etc. Ironically, I am the only one without a kid so far.  

Extension of this would be my habit to act as the friend “nurse.”  Willing to spend hours taking care of a friend who isn’t feeling well and give platonic cuddles if needed.

Another extension of this is my need to feed anyone who comes over.  I think my love language is acts of service after typing all this. 

I’M LISTENING:  Always willing to offer an ear, even if I don’t believe I can council you.  Plus, for some reason, people just end up splurging life stories or something that is bothering them to me.  My life is mostly spent as that Naruto meme: “I have no clue what is going on, but I’ll pretend that I do.”  But I’m responsible about it, I won’t offer advice I’m not sure about and will usually refer you to someone else I feel is up to the task.

PATIENT:  Earned after years in customer service dealing with toddlers disguised as customers and also with friends who far exceed my energy levels.  It takes a good bit to anger me or very specific things to set me off, such as when I have asked you to please stop bringing up that stressful memory of mine again and again. 

I am told I am terrifying when I’m actually pissed.  Most times I don’t remember much when I actually snap, just that it happened, but details are fuzzy.  

CHILL:  My counselor once told me if I “Was any more laid back, I’d be on her floor.” And to a point, she is correct.  My house was on fire and my reaction wasn’t panic at the time, it was this odd calm that even when I reported the fire to my sister and authorities, they didn’t believe me until I showed them said fire.  I am reserved with those I don’t know well or are not comfortable around.  Once I trust you or you get me on a topic I love, I’m surprisingly passionate and animated.  

I feel this fits under here, but I also tend to do things at my own pace.  And not much can change that pace, but I will get what I set out to do done.

WHY ME?:  Too many people tell me I’m a natural leader, even got awards for it, but I never volunteer or want to be the leader in anything.  Usually, I just end up in that role somehow, some way.  Most times because I hate disorganized messes and those times the people I am with have trouble making concrete decisions and need some guidance to work out what they really want to do or the pressure to actually make a decision.  I may be an unwilling leader, but I will step up if needed.

WHIMSICAL:  Sarcasm, dry and sometimes cheesy humour, and an attitude to boot, but it’s rarely to be mean.  Most times it is me being playful and if I’m teasing you, that usually is a sign I like you and enjoy your company.  Plus, sometimes people need a little laugh or a spark of different emotion to get them out of a funk.  

INTEGRITY:  I could absolutely despise someone, but like hell I’m going watch them suffer.  In the same sense, if I take a job, I will do it right and not half ass it.  And far too many times I’ve had to step in and explain certain concepts in order to disperse negativity or help others see from another perspective to avoid adversity.  

CUDDLE BUG:  With people I am comfortable with, I am a cuddly person and do not mind a lot of skinship.  I am used to friends hanging all over me.  Plus, sometimes I just want to curl up someone as well.  

  STRENGTHS:  

Observant

Good communication skills & honest

Responsible & reliable

Full Size Human Heater.  I am ridiculously warm and always putting off heat.  Friends and coworkers alike use me as a portable heater.

Surprisingly good at being sly and collecting information if needed, like getting a shoe or ring size without tipping the person off it’s for a gift.  If they manage to call it, I always fess up and playfully make a fuss they ruined the surprise.

  WEAKNESSES:  

Terrible at lying, so I tend to simply keep my mouth shut instead

Willfully oblivious to flirting and absolute flustered mess once I am forced to recognize said flirting

Vast open waters terrify me

Tendency to keep my troubles to myself and try to solve problems on my own (don’t want to be a burden)

Can become despondent if I feel useless at times

  HOBBIES:

ART:  I’ve dabbled in several different medias, but my favorite is just a pencil or pen and any paper I can get my hands on.  I love drawing figures in dynamic poses.  Second favorite is sculptures built from wire.

COSTUMES:  I love Halloween, since it is the perfect excuse to make and wear my homemade costumes.  It also lets me challenge myself by making more complicated pieces like hooves, horns, and even chain mail.

BAKING/COOKING/CANDY MAKING:  I’m the cook in the house and I love it.  Seeing people enjoy my food is my favorite part.  Just don’t ask me for a recipe, I literally don’t have any and I won’t remember what I did.  

ORGANIZING/CLEANING:  I love puzzle games like Tetris and Catherine, and I love a challenge.  Combine the two by having me organize and rearrange a space to make it work and I am in heaven.

STORYTELLING:  When a story needs to be told, I am the one asked to tell it. Specifically I have such an entertaining way of telling it according to others.  Animated and colorful language, plus a few pit stops along the way with some side stories.  

  PET PEEVES:

CONTRARY:  Do not tell me to do something while I am doing it.  That will kill any motivation I had to do it.

BACKHANDED COMPLIMENTS:  It is possible to compliment someone without insulting them or others at the same time.  It just makes the compliment feel empty and negative.  And I tend to just hum and not reward that behaviour.  

TOO MUCH ATTENTION:  I don’t mind attention… from people I trust and are comfortable with.  Feel free to cuddle and coddle away.  But vast amounts of attention from those I feel are strangers or acquaintances will unnerve me (I have literally left functions immediately  where I walked in and was bombarded with shouts and attention aimed at me-sensory overload I guess).

  ODD HABITS:

NESTING:  No, I don’t think I have enough blankets and pillows.  Yes, the giant stuffed animal is needed and his name is Snuffie.  

CRUSH ME:  I’m serious, some days I need one of my friends or my bf to just lay all their dead weight on top of me.  It’s just oddly therapeutic.

NO, I’M NOT PREGNANT:  Just cause I ate that jar of olives in one sitting or suddenly was craving jalapeno juice and crushed ramen noodles.  There are never enough pickles and yes, I am determined to try every kind–I may have a vinegar addiction.

IRONY:  I bake some of the tastiest, sweetest desserts and make pralines and caramels, YET I myself do not favor sweet things. 

HANDS:  One thing I tended to do with nearly every boyfriend and guy friend I had was play with their hands and put their hands on my face/head.  I lived for being pet and having people play with my hair.    

NONVERBAL MOMENTS:  Sometimes words are just too much, so I instead make sounds.  Can be anywhere from a growl to a cat like noise, or the reliable “Nyeh.”

NO NOs:

I think I listed a few as I went through everything else, but ignoring boundaries is the main one.  If I tell you I’m not comfortable with something, do not make me repeat myself.  And usually that something is given a pass the first few times it is done before I say something and explain why I’m not comfortable with it.   

Example:  I have thick, curly hair, a product of my mixed heritage.  Well, sometimes I like to straighten it and I did just that one day.  Well, a coworker decided to make a backhanded compliment, stating I should stick to what works: straight hair over my natural hair.  I had gotten on him about it, but I decided to vent to a friend about what happened as well.  She proceeded to constantly repeat those hurtful words and while I knew she meant it playfully during those times, I had to stop her and sit her down, explain I don’t find it funny cause the words are linked to a hurtful, possibly racist memory that I didn’t want brought up again and again.   Thankfully she understood and stopped.  So, I don’t snap immediately and I understand sometimes a sit down needs to be done.

Ok first of all I gotta say that I absolutely loved reading your matchup!!! It’s so well organized, detailed, and the descriptions are pretty creative!!! Do you do any writing yourself, because you should!!! alright, geek out moment over.

i’ve got three guys you’re perfect for, but let’s go for the obvious one. HONEY!! 

You’ve checked off everything on honey’s list: caring, organized, laid back, and good for cuddling. Now here’s what he has to offer to the table: he will cuddle you back. This guy is the ultimate cuddle slut. You’ll never feel unloved with him. Honey is also a very thoughtful and appreciative guy. He likes caring for his partners. You may be the mom friend, but he’ll do his best to return that love as well.

Honey is a little awkward, but he’s also sensitive and empathetic to how others feel. If he puts his foot in his mouth, just tell him and he’ll never bring it up again. Plus this guy is just so honest and genuine that backhanded compliments aren't really a thing with him. 

Also you like costumes!!! He’s always wanted to try cosplay or theatre. You just might be the person to give him the courage to finally stick to one. 

dating honey includes:

cuddles upon heaps of soft things. He has his own collections of ridiculously soft blankets and pillows that he’ll happily add to your collection. Honey is also a master at pillow forts. 

honey is a good listener. He’ll be happy to just sit back and enjoy the stories you tell. There is start though, who is also the storyteller of the underswap home. Any funny story you give about your time together will be rewarded by star with a funny story from his and honey’s childhood, much to honey’s embarrassment

if you don't really like sweet things but love baking them, then honey and star will happily finish them for you. People are usually surprised about how just how much skeleton monsters can pack away. 

he’s a picky eater and will give you the wtf face when you fufil your weird cravings though lol 

Oh! Also if you’re wondering, the other two would’ve been either oak or coffee

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT drabble: It’s... probably a phase

((Had this silly idea a while ago, but I was suddenly inspired to write it out for funzies. Hope you all enjoy! ^v^))

No matter how many times he saw it, Mikey was sure that he was NEVER going to get tired of seeing the Hidden City. The unique architecture, the bright colors, the dragons and giant birds flying all over the place - it was AMAZING!

Not to mention all the various locations that he still had to see and explore - like the Hidden City Mall! Maybe for any other teenager, a mall would have been mundane - boring, even. But not for Mikey. Not when he had been given permission to explore the mall by himself as long as he remembered to text his fam every few hours, and especially not when it was so different than the malls he'd see on TV. In a way, it was like some of the shōtengai (or commercial districts) they had in Japan, according to their dad. Rather than being confined into one building, it was instead a long stretch of road that was covered with tiles on the ground, had large and open entrances and exits onto the street, and a curved roof above (making it seem a bit more 'indoor' than a marketplace or the Pirate Bazaar down by the docks).

"Coooooool~!" Mikey grinned, his pace increasing as he walked inside. There were plenty of different shops to browse through, from the specialty to the common. Some sold food and pharmacy others while others sold clothes, toys and knick-knacks. There was a shop full of scrolls and tombs, a shop for crystals and mystic gems, and even a pretty neat antique shop! But, as Mikey began heading towards a stand-up noodle bar for a quick lunch, a store that seemed to be covered in shadows quickly caught his attention instead.

The walls of the shop were painted black, with only covered candles providing any sort of life. The letters above the shop were written in Yokai-ese, but just based on the blood red color and the way they were written, Mikey could still tell that the shop was going for a 'hardcore' vibe. A bit intimidating maybe, but also interesting - interesting enough for him to walk inside, the orange of his bandana and the colorful stickers on his chest instantly making him stand out against the racks of black and dark colored clothing and the silver, spiky jewelry on display.

...Huh. So the Hidden City had goths and punks. Who knew?

Since the shop didn't have too many customers at the moment, it was that much easier for the two employees currently on duty to notice him. "Uhhh, you lost, kid?" one of them - a grey-furred hound with a pretty wicked nose ring and a black poncho with several chains hanging off it - asked, raising an eyebrow at the young box turtle.

"Oh, no," Mikey said, giving him a friendly smile, "I'm just browsing."

The other employee - a snake girl with purple scales and red highlights in her slightly spiked hair - chuckled. "You sure this is the store you wanna be browsing in?" she asked him, sticking her tongue out a bit, "There is a kimono shop just a few stores down that seems a little more... your style."

"Already saw it," Mikey replied, "And yeah, they were really nice! Really colorful too - but wayyyy out of my price range." He picked up a couple shirts, looking them over before putting them back. "But hey, this stuff is really cool too!"

"Hmph, oh really?" the hound asked dryly. Great, another poser. Just what they needed. "And just what is so 'cool' about it?"

"Lots of things!" Mikey grinned, "Though, I guess what I really enjoy about the goth style is how you guys are able to use a limited palette to not only express yourself, but still make something really unique and memorable! Don't get me wrong, I LOVE all sorts of bright and warm colors, but expressing yourself with only one or two colors that really mean a lot to you, and being able to focus on just them while still being able add so much style to that one palette is pretty impressive! And pretty cool too, if I do say so myself! I really love the way you guys use metals and stuff to catch the light and catch people's attention." He picked up a spiked collar, admiring it. "Plus, it just looks really sick."

"..." The two employees shared a look before smiling at each other. "Huh... I guess when you put it that way, it is pretty cool," the snake agreed, actually looking sort of touched by Mikey's comments, "I mean, for record, being goth is about wayyyyy more than just the fashion. But, hey, I can hang with someone who can respect and appreciate the aesthetic without being shallow about it."

"Yeah, and you know... if you like the style that much, I think you could pull it off," the hound added.

Mikey's eyes went sparkly at that. "Really?!"

"Sure, kid! We've got some stuff that would look great on you!" "Aaaand, I think we could let you use our employee discount too. Since you're, you know, cool."

"Sweet!" Mikey grinned, pumping his fist in the air, "What are we waiting for? Let's make me over! Goth style~!"

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

Splinter had been planning on texting his youngest during the next commercial break, but before he could even reach for his phone, he heard Mikey call out from the lower level. "Hey, Pop! I'm home!"

"Oh good, I was just wondering when you would get back," Splinter replied, "So, did you have fun shopping?"

"Yeah, it was great! You wanna see what I bought?"

Splinter chuckled. "Oh, I suppose." That was enough to make Mikey race towards the TV room, his steps quick and obviously excited. Sitting up a bit, Splinter wondered what it was his youngest could have bought. Some fancy and fun new hat, maybe? Orange did always like playing dress-up. All of his boys did, really. They must have gotten that from him. Or maybe it was something in his favorite color? Or maybe-

He heard a small grunt behind him as Mikey lifted himself onto the second floor. "Tada! Take a look at me!"

"Okay okay, let's see-" Splinter looked over his shoulder, and his eyes nearly bulged right out of his head. He sputtered a bit before finally managing to shout, "Who are you and whAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY BABY BOY ORANGE?!”

Mikey tilted his head at his father. "Huh? Dad, it's me. I just got a new look"

Splinter narrowed his eyes a bit. It certainly sounded like his Orange, but...

Mikey's mask had been dyed completely black, only the tips of his mask tails remaining orange. He was wearing a black tank top with a spiked collar and long, fingerless black gloves. Hanging over his shoulders and shell, covering up his bright yellow spots, was a black trenchcoat. His dark cargo pants had been spray painted with orange at the bottom of each leg cuff, almost looking like flames, and heavy black boots tied it all together.

"Come on, Pop! Don't I look great?" Mikey asked, holding up a 'rock and roll' gesture. ...Or, at least he was trying to. It was sort of hard to do with only three fingers. "I saw this goth store in the Hidden City, and I just HAD to give it a try! Don't you think it looks cool?"

"Er, w-well, ah..." Mikey frowned, disappointment starting to creep on his face.

...Well, that settled it. He may have looked very VERY different, but this was no rebellious phase or sudden change in his otherwise cheery attitude. He was still his son - still the same box turtle Splinter knew and love. "I think you look very, ah, unique!" Splinter told him, "And, uh, veeeeery fashionable and cool!"

Mikey grinned. "Awww, thanks Dad!"

"Hey, are you guys screaming in he-WHOA!" they heard Raph say from the atrium, “Mikey? Is that really you?!”

Mikey laughed, amused at his oldest brother's expression. "Yep! It's really me, baby!" Thankfully, Donnie and Leo didn't seem as shocked, though they were still mildly surprised.

“Huh… You know, out of all of us, I thought for sure Donnie would be the one who’d have a goth phase,” Leo said.

His twin shrugged. “Eh, my natural aesthetic is more high school prep meets cyberpunk.”

As Mikey ran off to give his brothers a closer look at his new goth duds, Splinter gave a small sigh. He would always try to support his sons and give anything that they cared about - whether it be likes, hobbies or even fashion - a chance, and he would continue doing that for the sake of his boys and their feelings... But a small part of him couldn't help but hope that Mikey's 'goth phase' didn't last TOO long.

Later that night, he received a text from Draxum - and surprisingly, this one wasn't some complaint or request. From the Baron's perspective, it was actually positive!

"Lou Jitsu - I know we don't always agree, but for the record, I also approve of Michelangelo's 'new look'. Very intimidating... A good starting point for a young warrior... Plus, all the black fits in with his ninja side. A win-win as it were, right?"

Splinter could only groan.

[spmcomic]

Theia and Gaia

Cover

Chapter 1: (part 1 | part 2)   Chapter 2: (part 1 | part 2)

Chapter 3: (part 1 | part 2)   Chapter 4: (part 1 | part 2)

The next days dragged on longer than any of the thirty voices could remember. Every conversation with Lazarus’ fellow porcelain monsters was held in clipped, halting small-talk. The assertive voice in Lazarus’ little crowd approved; this ragtag band of Leporids knew better than to betray their anticipation. The voices treasured those short moments of storytelling more than ever. The routine masked Lazarus’ nerves, and the stories gave them something to ruminate on, to distract themselves.

But at last they had to convene on the plan, as Lazarus hauled its packages down the ravine wall and through one of the Dimensional Doors.

Will Head Merlock make its move in the morning or evening? Does it matter? The more battle-hardened voices growled in response. The sun barely spends two hours shining directly into the ravine each cycle. If Head Merlock expected to navigate without power, wouldn’t it need to be during that window of natural light? Or, does it have some kind of lantern- would it prefer to work in as dark conditions as possible, to slow down everyone else? Where will the students be? What of their controllers, should they prefer to give orders first and ask questions later?

Where will Head Merletaph be?

The voices cut off as Lazarus stumbled, one of its legs snagging in the tough material of Optym’s pathways. The more cautious voices swam and spun across the space. The robots wouldn’t stand a chance against the Artificers.

Head Merlock is not concerned with saving the current robots. It only wants to prevent future robots-

Something was speaking to Lazarus. It received a firm pat on the side, on the casing over its hind legs. With a startle, it peered down at the Artificer. This one was tall, and Lazarus could just resolve wrinkles under its shallow hood, but it had drab robes. Low rank. What did it want?

“Did you hear me? I said the Scrying department is waiting for its lenses to get to the R.P.C. in Underside. Hurry up!”

Lazarus picked its way across the walkway toward the Dimensional Doors, too occupied to catch everything the creature muttered behind it. Distraction was the enemy. Better to focus on the present. Here, the sun’s light was just poking into the ravine. It would be past noontime in Underside already. The voices mulled over how quickly they could scramble to the R.P.C. to perhaps free up a moment for a story.

The Dimensional Doors stood on their own platform, the open metal panels glittering in the early light. Lazarus could see Underside through the center door, and as it passed through it felt only a slight resistance, like pressing into the surface of the water- walking into a headwind- pushing aside a skin hung as a curtain-

As it was crossing the bridge across Underside’s wide ravine, the lights across the city flickered and died. The thin light from the geothermal backup lit up across the buildings behind it, casting weak spotlights onto the carved buildings at its destination. No shattering glass heralded this outage, and the lights did not return, so the voices came to a quick agreement. They clawed along the path to the Soul Intake building, looming over the city like a great needle, all the way up the ravine wall and stretching down nearly to the world’s mantle. The bridge was not crowded, and the Artificers flowed around it in a bubble of space as usual. It was eerily… normal. As if Lazarus simply hurried to a late task, and nothing more.

Eurydice stood on its bulky arms at the front door of the facility, along the widest layer of the walkway. “Do you know what the plan is?”

Sentry’s voice crackled distantly from a speaker inside the front room. “Head Merlock was vague on the details. I think she didn’t want any of us to give away the plan if Merletaph demanded information.”

Lazarus watched down one side of the walkway, then the other, observing the shorter Artificers continue their business in the ravine’s deep shade. Some grew uneasy and stopped to look about as the darkness stretched on. Taller ones with the more adorned robes began moving against the flow of the crowd. Perhaps the other robots had caused enough trouble with the generator for a whole team of them to repair.

“It appears we are expected to wait here until the deed is done. Someone has to watch the door,” Lazarus finally said.

The two robots lingered for a moment, before Sentry’s voice returned. “She’s having trouble getting to the controls. The elevators are still down. I’ll tell you if you need to move.”

Lazarus hopped between its spindly legs to stay alert and moving, clacking their metal against the ground and sending hard shudders up into the joints. “What kind of opposition did Head Merlock expect, Sentry?”

“I know you want logistics, Lazarus. I don’t have anything for you besides what I can see, but it’s very dark. The upper-classmen just found the circuit breaker, they don’t yet know what… Oh.”

Lazarus shuddered to a stop. “Sentry? Where is the problem?”

But the speaker had gone silent. Eurydice turned to Lazarus on its great pillar-arms. It flexed its fingers against the ground and looked out at the crowd of Artificers. “That doesn’t bode well.”

The voices itched to step inside the door and check the speaker, even though they knew it would do no good. The head turned one way and another. “It’s suspicious to stand outside. They still don’t know anything is out of the ordinary.”

“That won’t last much longer. We don’t have much room, inside…” Eurydice clicked its toes as it considered.

“We need to have the element of surprise. If they can see us as they come, they will have their controllers ready.”

Lazarus clambered through the doorway. It shrugged off its bag of lenses, letting it drop to the ground with a flat clatter. Some of the voices took note of ambush spaces- of the positioning of the door compared to the bench, and the lamps, and the carpeting. The room was quite cramped; hopefully small enough to get at any Artificer before they could point their controllers.

The two waited in a heavy silence, watching the thinning stream of Artificers move to and fro out the window. Dim light from the other side of the ravine filtered through the glass.

“Did Head Merlock speak of any kind of… signal? When the task is completed?” Eurydice didn’t turn away from the window.

Lazarus shook its head, the joints and motors faintly whirring in its neck. “Will it sound like… like the Power Cores when they shatter?”

Eurydice only shifted its weight.

All at once, a cluster of Artificers charged for the doorway. Eurydice stepped to the side and watched Lazarus as it readied its wrist blades, tucking them close to its body.

The first one stepped through the door, already pulling out a controller. Lazarus snapped out a blade to swat it out of the scientist’s hand. Eurydice swung one of its mighty arms against the Artificer and shoved it back through the door to bowl over the students behind it.

Forward, press forward! Lazarus clawed out of the doorway to chase down the last creature left standing as it fled, paying no heed to whatever Eurydice was doing back in the room.

The small Artificer whirled around, its robes dragging on the floor. It drew up a pale, slim hand, perhaps in a futile attempt to defend itself. Lazarus knocked it against the wall and pinned its robe to the ground under a blade. The Artificer thrashed against Lazarus’ weight and its hood fell back.

A small, wide-eyed creature stared up at the space, panting, hand clutched to its chest. It had a blunt, pinched nose with a round face. Stringy hair fell in white locks around its tiny head, like a Leporid’s mane. This was…

This beast was hardly an adolescent.

Kill it, don’t let it escape! Bryagh’s voice roared above the others. They were swept up in his momentum and Lazarus raised its free blade.

Wait! Another voice called, even louder, surging above the wave. I will not kill this creature. I refuse. The voices buzzed and the blade trembled.

Time seemed to halt, as the voices screamed at each other. It’s just going to go on to keep committing these atrocities, Bryagh’s voice snarled. We have to take out as many as we can, while we can.

They will not be able to hurt us after this. There is no reason to execute a child, Ishani’s cried in return, clamoring for those words, for the clarity that Bryagh wielded. Merlock will destroy the Reel. There is no future in which they continue this project.

The voices floundered, split between their two choices. The creature in front of them shook, curled up with its eyes squinted shut.

Hesitantly, Fu’s voice joined Ishani’s. Then Divya’s, and Satriya’s, and Masala’s. Their chorus grew stronger, drowning out the old warrior’s, as more voices came to their decision.

Lazarus put its blade to the ground, to support its weight. Then, it lifted its other blade off the creature’s clothing. The Artificer stared at Lazarus before scrambling to its feet and fleeing into the shade.

The city lights flickered back on. Lazarus turned to look for Eurydice when a rough, giant hand closed around its neck and thrust its bulk to the floor.

The dazed voices had only a second to glimpse the pillar arm in front of them, from their angle against the ground.

“Eurydice?” Lazarus’ voice flickered weakly. Something in its neck must have gotten disrupted. Two boots stepped into view behind the other robot.

Lazarus’ body went rigid, and Eurydice released its neck. Without the voices’ permission, the body stood and faced its assailant. Eurydice stepped aside, revealing the gold-adorned poncho of the other leader, holding up a single finger, golden eyes narrowed to slits.

“Merlock really is an idiot. The Dimensional Doors are powered from Karchner’s side.” Its gaze focused on Lazarus. “Guard the door, won’t you? I’m afraid our friend has outlived her usefulness.”

Lazarus had no voice to cry out its wrath and hatred as its body joined Eurydice’s at the door and bowed while Head Merletaph strode into the facility. Its limbs stood frozen in place as the voices railed against their prison, as they imagined Eurydice’s did the same, as silence fell over the ravine.

The smaller- younger- Artificers had vacated the walkways in front of them. Only one scientist stood guard over the two frozen robots, wringing its hands and looking up at the great needle behind them. The voices screamed out at it, but Lazarus’ voice remained unresponsive.

Its eyes could only stare out past the walkway, across the ravine. And, after a short while, a distant figure in glittering silver fell past and down out of view, toward the planet’s mantle.

Sentry’s voice broke the quiet stillness. “Get back to work,” it said, hollow and toneless.

And their bodies had to obey.

-

Previous | Next

[clownsgobeepbeep]

Did you eat all of the chocolate

Phew, this was a bit longer than planned ^^ But have a hopefully nice fic about Jelly and Lennie taking their latest grandkids to Disney huehue

One could have said it was just another one of those days for the three siblings Cordelia had brought into her family months back, but it really was not just one of those days.

As they came into the family, the three learned that the family was actually rich. Perhaps a bit influential as well. And with money and very caring and generous relatives came the spoiling.

“Is there a third park we could go to!?”

“In this area, there’s only two. There are other parks, but they’re for different companies.”

“Can we go to those too!?”

“How about we enjoy these for now? We are going to be here for three days. We can go back on the rapids ride tomorrow, and without ponchos this time.~”

“Yes!”

Margaux, Felix, and Damian walked down the brick pathway that was placed between the two entrances leading to the parks their grandparents Jelly and Lennie offered to bring them to, to spend some quality time and have fun. To Jelly, one park was not enough, so they were now hopping on over to the titular one.

“Does this one also have a water ride?”

“Yes it does.” Jelly nodded, letting go of Felix’s hand so that she could present all of the tickets before everybody was allowed into the park. “It’s called Splash Mountain and it’s a thrill ride. Pretty sure you’d enjoy it.”

“Great!” Felix jumped in the air, the only thing preventing him from jumping high being Jelly’s hand that he once again held. On Jelly’s other side was Margaux’s, the little one tightly holding her plush mouse in her other arm.

“Calm down partner.” Jelly chuckled to herself, finding Felix absolutely adorable in his Woody costume. She would have never expected that to be his Hallowen costume, but she loved it just like the ones his siblings wore.

“Can we go to that one!?” Felix continued before Jelly looked over at the pair that was beside Felix, her husband who was dressed in a bear onesie and the eldest of the siblings who was dressed like a gangster. A gangster weasel to be exact.

“What do you guys think? Splash Mountain is a tad bit far.” Jelly commented.

“Whatever the kids want really.” Lennie shrugged, then looking up at Damian who held a map of the park.

“Maybe we should go to...Tomorrowland…” he blinked at the name, then darting his eyes down at Lennie who was quite occupied with a colorful concha in his hands. “What kind of a name is that?”

“It’s the land of tomorrow. The future.” Jelly shrugged with a smile before motioning over to the left after they had all walked through Main Street. “Any ride catches your eye?”

“Pick a rollercoaster! There has to be a rollercoaster!” Felix exclaimed, watching his brother continue to read the map. “Damian!”

“Okay, okay.” Damian shushed him, then turning his attention up as he noticed there was a ride his brother would enjoy despite not being full-on thrilling. “How about that one?”

The rest of the group led their gaze to the side where Damian was pointing, a corner with a sort of antenna with rings around it. On both sides that made up the corner read BUZZ LIGHTYEAR Astro Blasters.

“Buzz Lightyear!?” Felix gasped at the sight, his eyes merely out of control as he scanned every inch of the building that even had a large sign featuring the mentioned character. “Is Buzz Lightyear in there!?”

“Kind of.” Jelly made sure to hold his hand tight enough so that he wouldn’t run off. “But, you probably won’t like him very much.”

“Wha-” Felix’s expression dropped, now looking at Jelly in pure disbelief before she leaned down to whisper.

“Won’t like him as much as the real Buzz Lightyear who walks around here.~”

Immediately, Felix’s eyes widened as did his smile.

“What are we waiting for? Let’s get on the ride so we can meet Buzz afterwards!” Jelly tugged on Felix’s arm, practically watching him vibrate with excitement before he attempted to run off to the queue line. “Hold up little cowboy, remember we have the fast passes.”

“Right!” Felix jumped around, allowing Jelly to talk to the employee before everybody was allowed in. However, Lennie stopped Jelly before going any further. 

“Jelly-Bean, how about I hold Margaux’s hand for now?” he offered.

“Oh I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“I insist.” Lennie quietly laughed as he looked over at the jumping cowboy. “You might need the help.”

“Okay, okay.” Jelly giggled. “Margaux, come on over here and have some time with your grandpa. You guys are sitting on the ship together.”

Margaux briefly nodded, eventually being startled by a loud gasp from Felix.

“It’s Buzz!” he pointed at the animatronic that was apparently giving instructions for the mission on a giant Etch-A-Sketch. 

“Settle down Felix.” Damian called from behind, seeing that others in line were giving Felix a few looks.

“Damian, let him have fun. It’s okay.” Jelly pet Felix’s head after his cowboy hat flew off. “It’s Disneyland.”

“I guess.” Damian shrugged as he followed behind Lennie and Margaux, Felix and Jelly being right at the very front as they did a bit of line before soon enough finding themselves at the loading station.

They watched as the “ships” constantly moved in their line, Felix becoming more excited as he and Jelly were led to one. He immediately hopped inside and made space for Jelly, the latter turning around to see Damian in the ship behind them so that Lennie could keep an eye on him from behind as he sat with Margaux.

“So what do we do!?” Felix clenched his fists in thrill, soon feeling as the front part of their ship came forwards and he got a closer look at the galactic looking guns.

“Take one and shoot the bad guys.” Jelly grinned, taking one of her own before showing him how to hit a target, immediately getting points. “Let’s see who can get the most points in the end.~”

“I’m gonna beat you Damian!” Felix laughed behind himself, his brother slightly smiling while rolling his eyes at the comment.

“Whatever you say Felix.”

And after taking a ride through the galaxy with Buzz Lightyear, Felix could say that he did beat his brother Damian. But that didn’t make him the one with the highest score.

“Wow! Ranger first class!?” Felix exclaimed at the scoreboard he and his family looked at after his sister had told him the total score of points she got after shooting all the bad guys. “That’s awesome Margaux!”

“Thank you.” the child played with her feet, hugging Mr. Jingles close.

“Me and Damian are…”Felix examined the board. “Planetary Pilots! So close to Space Scout! I still beat Damian though.~”

“You sure did.” Lennnie pat Felix’s back as they all made their way out through the exit of the ride, already having collected the codes to buy pictures of them on it later. “Where to now?”

“There was...a ride I noticed.” Damian commented. “The white one-”

Damian was soon interrupted by yet another gasp from his brother, his boots clicking against the ground as he managed to escape from Jelly’s hand and ran over to what was revealed to be the store.

“It’s Buzz! And a Buzz jacket! A-And the little green men! And Zurg! And an actual Astro Blaster!” Felix fawned over all of the merchandise, especially the Buzz Lightyear toy. “Aww! I wish I had this guy…”

“Felix, honey.” Jelly carefully took the box, looking down at the price. “The toy costs thirty-five dollars.”

“Oh…”Felix’s smile dropped, disappointment filling him.

“That leaves more than enough money to get something else. Do you want the jacket too? What size are you? I can even get you a pin or we can look at other things throughout the day.”

“Are you serious nana!?” Felix immediately lit up as he watched Jelly pick out a hooded sweater that made the wearer look like they were dressed as Buzz.

“Is she serious?” Damian blinked at the sight, having asked Lennie who gave a shrug and laugh.

“She loves to spoil the grandkids, and she said she never wanted to become a grandmother.” Lennie turned to look up at Damian. “What was the ride you wanted to go on?”

“Oh. It doesn’t matter.”

“If you don’t tell me right now, your Mama Coral’s gonna ask you and you don’t want that.”

Damian stared at Lennie for a moment, then darting his eyes over at Margaux who gave a shrug.

“It’s the white building next to the rocket, I think that’s a pizza place. The ride seemed interesting. Space or Galaxy something.”

“Oh, Ghost Galaxy.” Lennie nodded. “Yeah, it’s actually called Space Mountain but it’s Ghost Galaxy during the Halloween season. That one’s an indoor rollercoaster. It’s nice.”

“R-Rollercoaster?” Margaux hugged her mouse tighter.

“You don’t have to go on it. Either me or Coral can stay outside with you, don’t worry.” Lennie reassured her, giving her hand a comforting squeeze before they all looked at Jelly and Felix. “We can go on it after we meet Buzz Lightyear.”

_____________

“Man, false advertisement!”

“What do you mean?” 

“I barely got wet!”

Jelly and Lennie laughed to themselves as they all walked out of a ride that was not in Tomorrowland, for they had moved away from that area and into New Orlean’s Square. Here, they had decided to go on a rather tame ride despite having a bit of a drop that was tolerable even by Margaux.

“You still got a few drops. Nothing in your boots, right?”

“Not even a snake in here.” Felix joked, eventually giving a loud laugh at the thought of it and his costume. “That was good.”

“Do you really want to be getting your costume wet though?” Jelly tugged at one of Felix’s sleeves.

“I don’t mind!”

“I mean, if you really want to get wet, have I got the place for you.” Jelly waved around the park map. “Unless you want to eat first.”

“I could really go for some nachos right now.” Felix stated, until he heard terrified screams that made him look past some tall trees that surrounded a mansion he currently did not care for. “What was that?”

“Come over here.” Lennie motioned to the three kids, bringing them over to an area where there was a fence, and beyond it was a pile of scary-looking thorns. “That’s what it is.”

All three of them looked up at what was a funny-looking mountain, right in it was a black hole from which a stream of water fell. Watching intently, they saw as a log slowly appeared, and then a person sitting in it. Soon enough, the entire log came into full view before it slid down the water stream at full speed as screams were heard at the same time.

“Oh my god.” Felix started. “Punpa. Nana. We HAVE to go on that!”

“We don’t have to go on that.” Margaux shook her head.

“That is true, we don’t have to.” Jelly rubbed her shoulders. “Lennie, how about you take the boys on Splash?”

“You sure? I don’t mind staying with Margaux.”

“You stayed out for Space Mountain, it’s my turn.” Jelly nodded. “We can always come back here and to Space Mountain and take turns.”

“Well, if you say so.” Lennie let go of Margaux’s hand, Jelly now taking it before she handed a backpack over to Damian.

“The ponchos are in here, just in case you don’t want to be getting wet.” Jelly pat his arm. “And make sure you don’t let go on that ride. Especially you Felix.”

“Thanks.”

“But why not!?”

“Okay, okay. You can let your hands up if you sit in the front.”

“That’s exactly where I planned on sitting!” Felix stated as he got into a marching position, ready to head off before he was followed by his brother and grandpa after exchanging a few more words with Jelly.

“So Margaux, what would you like to do now?” Jelly rubbed her thumb over Margaux’s knuckles with a warm smile. “Maybe go on another ride while we wait?”

Margaux pondered to herself for a moment, glancing over at Mr. Jingles before placing a hand on her stomach. As if on command, her stomach gave a growl that made Jelly give a bit of a giggle.

“So, first we eat, huh?” 

_____________

Lennie had called Jelly, telling her that he and the boys were done with Splash Mountain, Felix speaking loud in the back of course. Considering how Jelly had decided she wanted to take Margaux over to Fantasyland and already having reached the location, she suggested that he and the boys go on the ride again or at least the nearest roller coaster which was another mountain.

“W-What’s the name of the o-one they’re on?”

“It’s Big Thunder Mountain. Cowboy-style stuff.” Jelly informed her as she playfully swung around her hand that held onto Margaux’s. “But let’s let go of that stuff for now and talk about princesses, yeah?”

“I like princesses.” Margaux nodded, the tiniest smile present on her features as she looked around the area that was filled with cottage-looking buildings. “Where are they?”

“They’re over at the fair, but we can meet them later. Would you like that?”

Margaux replied with a nod of her head, soon taking a good look at Jelly who noticed.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes.” Margaux whispered, her eyes fixated on Jelly’s dress. 

“Margaux…”

“I j-just really think your dress is pretty…”she let go of Jelly’s hand to softly run a hand over the dress which was half blue and half pink. “My Gam Gam is a Disney princess.”

“Oh Margaux, it’s just a cos-” Jelly spoke but then stopped herself, then twirling a lock of her golden hair. “I mean, I do sleep a lot. And I have little fairies, except there’s twenty-three of them.”

“What?” Margaux silently gasped. 

“Uh huh, and they’re all pink. They look like little jellyfish who float all over the place.”

“Even around Grampy? Like the fairies and Prince Philip?”

“Oh definitely.” Jelly nodded as she led Margaux through the crowd, bringing her over to a building near the carousel. “Your Grampy even defeated a big bad dragon that took me away.”

“He did?”

“Of course. He’s so brave and courageous.” Jelly giggled to herself. “Then he gave me a big kiss.”

“And he woke you up?”

“Yup!” Jelly gave another nod, eventually stopping as they now stood in front of the building that read Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique.

“What’s this?” Margaux blinked up at the building, heart racing at the sight of beautiful crowns carefully placed on display behind the large window near the entrance.

“This is where princesses get their outfits.” Jelly released Margaux’s hand, now placing both of hers on the child’s shoulders. “So what dress does the princess want?”

“Dress?” Margaux examined the area after she was brought inside by Jelly, looking around at the displays of princess dresses that were all on small mannequins. “Oh my.”

She hugged Mr. Jingles against her chest, shifting as she looked at all of the dresses and crowns, a small smile forming on her lips.

_____________

“Nana! That ride was insane! Well, both of them were! And the second one was so crazy it basically dried our clothes up after Splash Mountain!” Felix ran towards Jelly and Margaux, soon gasping as he skid to a stop so as to not crash into them. “Is that a churro!?”

“Yes.” Margaux responded before taking a bite out of her churro, letting Mr. Jingles take a bite out of it.

“Just got a churro and some gingerbreads for Margaux and Mr. Jingles. I bought some chocolates for everyone too.”

“Gam-Gam even got a little Mickey Mouse hat for Mr. Jingles.” Margaux mentioned as she showed off the tiny hat. “Now he’s the Doormouse and Mickey.”

“Hey! That’s like the ones Dami-wait! Did you eat all of the chocolate!?” Felix cried out before feeling Jelly pat his head.

“No sweetheart, we haven’t opened up the chocolates yet. Would you like one?”

“Totally!” Felix made a grabby motion with his hands, immediately taking one of the squares Jelly offered. “What’s this one have?”

“It’s a s’mores flavored one.” Jelly replied before offering some to Lennie and Damian, the latter shaking his head no thank you before the box of chocolates was put away.

“So! What are your guys’ plans now?” Jelly asked the three kids, the brothers looking at each other before Margaux tugged at Jelly’s dress. Jelly turned to look down at her, seeing as Margaux motioned for her to come down. So, the former kneeled down before having Margaux whisper into her ear.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.~”

“Which one?” Felix poked his head into the conversation, watching Jelly stand up before looking over to the side where there was a good amount of line behind some victorian-esque fences.

“Margaux wants to go on the Haunted Mansion Holiday.” Jelly pointed to the building where a music box was heard. “You guys wanna go? It’s usually just a Haunted Mansion, but now it has characters from The Nightmare Before Christmas.”

“Let’s go! Let’s go right now! Right now!”

“Okay, just don’t run off.” Lennie advised as he trailed behind Felix, turning around to take a quietly excited Margaux’s hand. That was when he noticed that Damian had stayed behind. “You okay, bud?”

“Yeah. I just thought I could take a break.” Damian looked between Jelly and Lennie.

“Oh, sure. We can all take a break.”

“No, you guys go ahead. I can stay and sit outside.” Damian slightly shook his head, then hearing as Jelly approached him.

“Jelly, you go on ahead and take the kids. I’ll stay with Damian.”

“I can-”

“Nuh uh young man, you are not staying out here by yourself.” Jelly lifted a finger, then waving her hand at Lennie. “Just go ahead. I’m still full from eating and wouldn’t want the motions getting me nauseous.”

“If you say so.” Lennie chuckled as he waved to his wife, leading Felix and Margaux to the line of the Haunted Mansion Holiday.

“You...didn’t have to stay.” Damian turned to Jelly who shrugged. “You could have gone in with them. I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

“I know, but sometimes people need someone with them.” Jelly ruffled his hair. “Not that I don’t trust you, I had a few of my escapades when I was your age.”

“I wasn’t-”

“I know you weren’t. I honestly just wanted to spend some time with you Damian.” Jelly admitted. “Now, how about I buy you a pretzel of some popcorn? Maybe some fries?”

“I...a pretzel sounds nice.” Damian shrugged, then following Jelly as she took him to a stand with a variety of salty snacks.

Once purchased, Damian was handed the pretzel which he began to eat, still walking behind Jelly before feeling his free hand be held. In that moment, he froze, panicked. My god, he was shaking with wide eyes at the realization of his hand being held by Jelly’s.

“You okay?” Jelly stopped walking, looking behind at Damian who swallowed the bit of pretzel in his mouth as he stared down at the ground. “Damian?”

She blinked at Damian who nearly squeezed the life out of his Mickey-shaped pretzel, vibrating as his eyes refused to move from the ground.

“Damian? Are you okay?” Jelly let go of his hand, realizing that the boy’s face had become flushed. “Damian?”

“Mmm?” he finally lifted his head to look at Jelly, meeting up with her concerned expression. “Yes?”

“Are you...did I do something wrong?”

“No.” Damian quickly replied, the color ever so slowly draining from his face as he blinked quite awkwardly. “Cold.”

“You’re cold?” Jelly made a weird face at him, knowing that that clearly wasn’t the issue.. “Because you turned red. I don’t think that means it’s cold.”

“Hot?” Damian practically wheezed, his mind either a mixture of panic or absolutely blank. 

“How about we go into this store? Maybe that’ll help with your...temperature.” Jelly gave a bit of a chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood before being followed by a stiff Damian. “Look, there’s even a blanket in here. Do you want it?”

“No.” spoke Damian, finally clearing his throat. “N-No thank you...mémé…”

In an instant, Jelly turned around at the sound of that name. Knowing French, she already knew what it meant, and it no doubt delighted her on the inside despite being the word she did not want to be called. For some reason, it being in a different language just sounded better.

“Okay. That’s okay.” Jelly nodded before gasping and taking a nearby item, soon removing Damian’s gangster hat to replace it with what she had found. “What about this then?”

Damian, finally back to his normal self, felt Jelly’s hands on his shoulders as she turned him so he could face a mirror. Once he saw his reflection, he realized that he was wearing one of the popular Mickey Mouse ear hats.

“I...it’s…”

“Aw, you look so adorable Damian!” Jelly nearly squealed as she popped her head from behind to get a better look at the mirror. “Such a dashing, young man with Mickey ears.”

Once again, Damian felt as a heat rushed up to his cheeks. Thankfully, he hadn’t reacted the same as he did the last time when Jelly held his hand.

“It’s..it’s fine.” Damian slowly removed the hat, turning in place to hand it back to Jelly. “I don’t need it.”

“Maybe, but you want it.” Jelly spoke in a singing tone. “So I’m buying it.~”

“Wait-” Damian whipped around, seeing as Jelly stood in place and gave him a sly smile, so he decided not to protest it.

“Is there anything else you’d like? There’s this zip-up hoodie that had Jack Skellington on it. All black. It seems like something you’d wear.” Jelly made a motion with her hand so that Damian could follow as she brought him over to a section with Nightmare Before Christmas clothes. “Surprises me they don’t have any of the costumes, but then again, this is Disney.” 

“I mean, I’d rather get a Roger Rabbit shirt. With, Jessica.” Damian cleared his throat as he averted his gaze.

“Aw, shoot.” Jelly’s smile fell. “Damian, I’m sorry to say this, but they don’t sell Roger Rabbit merchandise here anymore.”

“I...oh.”

“I mean, we can definitely go on the ride later though. That’s a promise.” Jelly patted his shoulder as she grabbed one of the hoods she had mentioned before, trying one on in front of Damian to check for the right size. “Just as I promise to find you the perfect shirt when we get back home. I know people sell those things online and if I don’t find something, I’ll talk to my brother Pepper. He’s the real life Roger Rabbit and is bound to have something in his house.”

“I noticed.” Damian gave a nod. “And…”

Jelly’s eyes left the hood, glancing over at Damian.

“I appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem, kelpcake.”

“Kelpcake?” Damian lifted his head at Jelly.

“You’re my kelpcake.” Jelly ever so softly pinched Damian’s cheek. “Speaking of real life characters, did I ever tell you that your Uncle Davey is basically a real life Jack Skellington? That boy never noticed his feelings for your aunt, or her own of course.”

“You’re joking.” Damian squinted his eyes at Jelly who laughed with a shake of her head.

“Harper and Benjamin literally told him to his face after he saw Ally go on a date with another guy.”

“That’s...hilarious.” Damian looked around the store.

“Oh yeah, your aunt Lily even suggested that they dress up as them. They did one time, even had Peggy dressed as Zero. It was adorable.”

“Huh.” Damian walked behind Jelly as she looked at a section with plush toys from the Haunted Mansion and Nightmare Before Christmas. “Speaking of Peggy, and the axolotls, where did they come from?”

Jelly’s hands stopped searching through the plush toys as she froze for a moment, eventually turning to Damian with a smile.

“Well, we have a rehabilitation center, your grandpa and I, and we’re constantly on the lookout for new species or at least ones that need help.” Jelly resumed her searching. “The axolotls happened to be one of those discoveries.”

“From where?”

“The sea.” Jelly answered in a heartbeat. “We have some boats. Even your uncle Davey has a ship of his own. We’re constantly on the sea, and we just happened to come upon the axolotls. Mana and Kala at least, and then they eventually had their pups and on.”

“How long do they live?”

“That’s something we haven’t quite figured out just yet. Your grandpa has an idea though, it’s best you ask him.” Jelly faced Damian now, holding a funny looking plush that was meant to be a vampire teddy bear. “How do you like this little guy?”

“They look funny.” Damian poked the toy’s large and toothy grin.

“Great. They’re going home with you.” Jelly grinned before heading off to the cash register. “If there’s anything else you want, tell me now. Or you can tell me if anything catches your eye later.”

“Alright.” Damian now stood behind Jelly, watching as she paid for the three items she was getting just for him. “I wanted to ask, how are things with you and Pop?”

“Oh, as perfect as ever.” Jelly then received a bag with the merchandise, taking out the plush before handing it over to Damian who accepted it and took a better look at it. “I mean, we’re obviously here taking you and siblings to Disney and California Adventures. Other than that, just been working at my aquarium like usual, the park. Spend as much as time with all of you kids as much as possible, especially with Davey and Ally popping out more grandkids.”

“How many do they have now? I don’t see them too much, but I thought it was four.”

“Four indeed. Your aunt Ula and her husbands have six in total. Though Dahlia makes it feel like more.” Jelly laughed, taking notice of the funny face Damian made at the thought of his troublemaking cousin. “Speaking of your cousins, how have you been getting along with your cousins?”

“It’s going well.” Damian sighed at the thought of everyone he had met. All different from the other. “But Flora,”

“What about Flora?”

“She’s, really welcoming.” Damian squeezed his plush as she and Jelly continued walking, now finding an empty spot to sit at as it started to grow dark. “I really appreciate it. She tries to help me a lot and she’s very sweet.”

“Flora is like that, she just knows things.” Jelly placed a hand on Damian’s back, rubbing circles on it as he slightly shivered at the touch. “I’ve been meaning to ask, how are things with Basil?”

“Basil?” Damian rapidly brought his head up. “Well. It’s all well and okay.”

“Yeah? He’s not causing you any problems?”

“No, no. Of course not.”

“What?” a loud laugh was heard from behind the pair, both turning to see none other than Felix who was waving around a paper. “Basil always scares you!”

“Shut up Felix.” Damian glared at his brother.

“You guys are back.” Jelly felt as Felix slipped in between her and Damian, then seeing Lennie and Margaux stand in front of them. “How was it?”

“It was fun.” Margaux turned to Lennie who agreed. “And kind of cold.”

“They do that on purpose.” Jelly laughed before looking at Felix. “Sweetheart, don’t interrupt your brother, okay?”

“Okaaaay.” Felix slumped his body, but immediately jumped back into a straight pose to show off the paper he had received. “I got this though! Punpa asked for me and Margaux and we got Death Certificates!”

“That’s so nice.”

“Can we go again!? The ride got stuck like two times.”

“Yeah.” Margaux agreed before glancing over at Damian. “And Damian should come with us too.”

Jelly turned to Damian who remained quiet.

“Come on Damian, let’s go see Sandy Claws.” Jelly rubbed his shoulder after Felix hopped off his seat, Damian now looking at Jelly. “Then we can go on the Roger Rabbit ride right after. I promise.”

“I guess.” Damian nodded before he and Jelly stood up, soon turning red as Jelly linked her arm with his.

“But you have to promise to sit in the Doombuggie with your mémé.” Jelly smiled, then giggling as Damian gave a shaky nod while squeezing his vampire teddy bear.

[oneofyatosfollowers]

One of a Kind- Chapter 8

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20191861/chapters/52293733

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13360973/1/One-of-a-Kind

Yukine unbuckled his seat belt and stood up in the middle of the ship. He started at Hiyori from next to Yato, who looked like he was just slapped across the face. Hiyori was going to ship them off? Back to Earth while she hunted for a missing bottle with crummy dirt in it?

"So, what? You're just gonna wonder around the ship by yourself? With all the Secur-T looking for you?" Yukine took a step off the ship, anger threading his words. Hiyori looked a bit taken back, but remained firm.

"I'll be fine. But Yato has been labeled a real threat to public safety! He can't stay here! And I can't go with you. I have an objective here. A mission for the good of all the passengers. I swore an oath!"

"You said you didn't believe the stuff that jerk said!"

"I don't!" Hiyori shouted. Yukine narrowed his eyes at her, but backed down a bit. Hiyori took a deep breath.

"But for now, everyone on the ship does, including all of the Secur-T. I need to focus on finding out what happened to the plant," she said. Her last words sounded like a plea, a hopeless plea.

"You think someone took it." Yato spoke from the transit. His words weren't a question, but rather, an observation. Yukine looked back at Hiyori, who didn't say anything. Her lip-biting confirming Yato hit the nail on the head. After a moment, Yato walked off the ship, his boots clicking against the hard floor. The Eve looked back at him, pinning him with a serious expression.

"Yato, you know how important this is to me."

"I know. That's why we're going to help you." Yato stated. Yukine nodded in resolve, coming to stand closer to the Wall-E. Desperate frustration bubbled up in Hiyori.

"I can do this, but it's become dangerous for you. I-I can't protect you and find the plant, I can't-"

"-I don't need protecting." Yato's voice was strong with certainty. He spoke with such conviction that the room fell silent, no argument possible.

"You'll need our help," Yukine piped up, "please, we're here for you. We're not going to leave you to do this alone." Hiyori looked up, glancing between them with wet eyes. She settled on Yato, who smiled as he always did. Her chest felt lighter and took a breath to say something. Behind her, the keypad made a couple bleeping noises, and the door unlocked.

Quickly, Hiyori rushed to click the lights off while Yukine shut down the shuttle. They both then shoved Yato behind the rack of space suits. Yukine ducked behind some boxes. Hiyori huddled behind the white oxygen tanks. The door opened and the LED lighting of the hallway streamed through, casting a shadow over the large figure. The trio held their breath, the face of the co-pilot coming to mind. But once the lights switched on, they were shocked to see the Go-4 standing there. The group stayed hidden as his bulge-y eyes suspiciously scanned the room. When he didn't find anything, he made his way to the control pad, one hand coming out from under his poncho to mess with the controls.

Yato made eye contact with Hiyori and Yukine, the latter closest to the door. On cue, Yukine looked towards the door, then turned to his friends with a desperate, pleading eyes. Hiyori shook her head, hold her palm to him, telling him to stay still. She did the same to Yato who became distracted by the whirling of the engines starting back up again.

The Go-4 made his way to the open door of the ship, stopping just where Yato once stood. Bending over, his other hand emerged from under his poncho, holding a small brown object. Hiyori's opened wide like saucers while Yato's narrowed sharply. The Go-4 exited the ship, the plant in the glass bottle, sitting perfectly in the center. Hiyori glared at the cyborg as he made his way back to the control panel and shut the shuttle doors.

"Self destruct sequence: activated." The feminine robotic voice announced to the room. Hiyori sucked in a breath, it took everything not to jump out and reveal their presence. Another sound came from the Go-4 who glanced at the screen on his forearm, the face of the Auto could just be made out.

"Kugaha, is the plant in position?" Kouto asked.

"Yes sir," Kugaha hit a large yellow button, "I just shipped it off." The ship doors slammed shut and the individual ship was fired from Heaven's Sun like a cannon ball. The walls slammed shut behind it, quickly vacuuming shut.  

"Good. Come back to my quarters for your next instructions, that Wall-E cannot continue to roam my ship any longer." The Auto cut the feed and Kugaha made his way out, turning the lights off as he went. Once the doors slid shut and the room was silent, Hiyori and Yukine jumped up.

"The plant!" The screamed in unison. Hiyori ran to the control pad, trying to bring it back or stop the destruction sequence.

"Uh, Hiyori?" Yukine chocked out from behind her. She did a double take over her shoulder at his horrified expression. The Eve followed his eyes to the screen above her to see the video feed from inside the shuttle.

"Yato!" She shrieked. The Wall-E was sprawled out on his back, neck bent up against the door. In one hand the glass bottle, the other rubbing his head. At her call, he sat up and blinked rapidly.

Yato scrambled to his feet and looked out the back window to see the ship getting smaller and smaller in the distance. He let out a curse and made his way the transport's control panel, this one seeming much more complicated than necessary. In front of him, a screen turned on and showed the equally panicked expressions of Hiyori and Yukine. Yato hit a small button with a microphone on it.

"Hello! Hello? Can you hear me?" Yato shouted

"Yes, we can hear you! What were you thinking, you idiot?" Yukine leaned in close to the camera and shouted back. Hiyori nudged him aside.

"Yato, listen to me- stop hitting buttons that's not going to help! Yato, behind you is the emergency exit." Hiyori spoke calmly but her voice still shook. Yato doubted her training covered Wall-Es flying in a bomb with a inflatable boat on top and a broken parachute flapping behind him.

"I don't have a helmet! My filter only works if there's oxygen!"

"Under the control panel is a helmet just like Hiyori's." Yukine cut in. He continued giving Yato instructions on how to get it and put it on while Hiyori tried hitting more buttons.

"Self-Destruction set for one minute." Both the ship and the launch room echoed at the same time. Yato's heart soared to new heights, he threw himself against the exit and tried pulling on the curvy red bars.

"Uh, uh, I-I, how do you open this thing!" Yato's eyes darted frantically over the foreign writing, his sensors on overdrive from the stress and lack of knowledge. One thing was familiar, fancy looking boots that matched his helmet.

From the ship, Hiyori clicked a button on her helmet and ran to a garbage shoot. The inside opened up, the pull of space vacuuming out the air.

"Wha-Hiyori! What are you doing?" Yukine shouted in alarm as Hiyori put her hand on the side button.

"I'm going after him. You tell him how to get out."

"But-!" It was too late. The trash door was shut and the vacuum tube ripped Hiyori out of the ship and into the blackness of space. Hiyori flipped her boots on the highest setting, she rocketed faster than her suit could adjust. The frigid atmosphere hit her nervous system causing her teeth to grind.    

"Faster Hiyori! You got ten seconds!" Yukine's frantic voice sounded from her helmet. Hiyori couldn't even formulate a response, her mind only on one track. Go faster. Please go faster. Yato was in there and he needed to get out. She needed to get him out. Yato needed to be out here with her.

The indivdual spaceship was starting to look less like a star and more like a moon. The red hazard lights were turned on making it look like a giant baseball. The insides were red too, illuminating the Wall-E swinging his compactor into the thick glass window. Hiyori zoomed closer as the count down started from three.

The pod exploded. Like a dying star, light stretched soundlessly from a ball of fire. Hiyori scrambled to a stop, floating alone in space. Her brown eyes reflected the glare from her helmet, darting over every inch of the scene.

"No." The Eve whispered like a breath. The pieces of the ship floated out in all directions, not one of them the body of a cyborg. Hiyori numbly tapped her helmet and asked Yukine if he had anything different. She didn't receive an answer. The blonde teenager was balled up on the floor behind the control pad, hand trying to contain his hyperventilating, eyes screwed shut.

"No, Yato. No, no, please." Hiyori said a bit louder. She kicked her boots back in high gear, rocketing towards the fire her sensors warned her to avoid. A couple tears leaked from her eyes. She should have kept a better eye on him. Yato was clever, but he followed her out of his element. He was just trying to help her fluff her arrogance so humans could go back to a planet that had no hope of sustaining them! She tried to protect him. To warn him that she wasn't strong enough. Hiyori chocked back a dry sob.

"Yato," Hiyori morned.  

"Hiyori!" Yato's voice sounded directly in her head. She stopped, heat of the blast just warming her body. The Eve looked around for the source of the call, trying out his name again. Her helmet crackled again.

"Hiyori! Down here! Or is it maybe up?" Hiyori looked towards her feet to see Yato floating some meters away. His new white spacesuit was stark against the black background and his eyes shown just like the stars that surrounded him. He was floating upside down- from Hiyori's point of view- and had his legs out towards her.

"Yato!" Hiyori cried in joy, flying towards him with a bright smile.

"Hiyori!" Yato laughed, her excitement contagious. He held his hands out to her, then fired on his own boots, sending him further away. Yato's surprised face was priceless. Hiyori laughed and flew past the former ship after him. Yato bent his knees and tried the boots again, this time sending his body forward. Hiyori's face morphed into one of playful fear, she held her arms out and leaned back.

"No, no, no, Yato! Wait!" Hiyori let out a puff of air when Yato crashed into her chest, laughing. They were sent spinning like a wheel, cheering as they clung to each other, helmets clanking together. The spinning slowed, their space shoes off leaving only their laughter and gasps of breath.

Once they calmed down, Hiyori pulled back to look him, smile so wide her cheeks hurt. Yato looked the same, when her hands came to hold the sides of his helmet, he returned the action. Yato's thumb moved against the glass, subconsciously trying to wipe the water filling her eyes.  

"You're okay." The Eve's voice was sweet and she blinked away the would-be tears.  Yato's smile was still wide and it crinkled his bright, bright eyes. He nodded and held her gaze, that same feeling from their first meeting bubbling back up. It felt the same as it did now, floating in warm nothing, ignoring everything that surrounded him except her.

"Yeah. I'm okay," Yato said like a secret just for her.

Hiyori felt it too. She never felt this before- maybe a brief moment during their movie night on Earth- but not this deep. It was real, she felt heavy and light at the same time, warmth spreading across her cheeks. Her arms moved to wrap around his neck and her smile softened. Yato followed her lead, arms just barely wrapped around her waist, resting on top of the gun. Their hooded eyes dropped close as they leaned in and pressed the glass of their helmets together. Contentment evening out their breaths.

"Yato! Are you okay?" Yukine sounded from both their helmets. Hiyori jumped back from Yato, who tried to do the same but ending up spinning around. They laughed and Hiyori clicked the microphone button over her ear.

"Yes Yukine, Yato is just fine!" Hiyori reassured him. Yukine sighed in relief over the speakers.

"Thank the stars! I'm so sorry, I didn't want to look or-or to hear but I saw you hug him and I thought-"

"Daw," Yato cooed from his own helmet, copying Hiyori's method, "You do care!" Hiyori giggled and listens to Yukine's responding tangent. She agreed with his point on Yato being an idiot and sneaking in a bomb.

"Oh come on! I'm still in one piece! You did a great job with the instructions!" Yato grinned from his now upside-down position. Yukine practically steamed on the other line, pride ruffling his hardy agreement. Yato suddenly jolted, catching Hiyori's attention.

"Speaking of." Yato flew back towards the still-exploding wreckage and plucked his compactor out of the stars and swung it towards Hiyori. The cube opened up and allowed a plant in a bottle to roll out.

"Yato!" Hiyori gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth.

"Ta-da!" Yato presented with wide arms and an even wider smile.

"The plant!" Yukine cheered. Yato folded his tool back and put it away. Hiyori reaches her hands out with wide eyes and grasped the frail object carefully.

"Yep!" Yato crosses his arms, proud. Hiyori squealed again and flew into Yato's arms, which were ready and waiting. All three of them let out breathy laughs and the Eve blinked back tears.

"Quick, bring it here!" Yukine said.

"What? Why?" Yato asked, separating again from Hiyori.

"Cause there's no air in space, idiot!" Yukine chided. The two outside the ship jumped at the realization. After some failed attempts, and a lot of giggling from Hiyori, the two flew back towards the ship.

"I didn't know you knew stuff about plants, Yukine." Yato said, looking towards the speaker. He sounded impressed.

"Well, uh, yeah. I, uh," Yukine stuttered in the speaker, "have a friend in the agriculture department." Yato and Hiyori gave each other a look like someone just told them cats were lethal to elephants.

"A friend! My kiddo has a friend? That's wonderful news! You should invite them over for a sleepover! Did you hear that Hiyori? My prickly peach has a-"

"Shut up idiot! I've been friends with him longer than I've been your kid, so!" Yukine hissed from the transport room. The two reached Heaven's side and the flat door where the individual ship once was. Hiyori put the plant back in the shoot she came from and told Yukine to reverse the pull. When she went to step inside too, Yato held her back.

"We'll catch up with you later, kiddo! No use getting your friend in trouble helping three fugitives." Yato said floating away from the ship, winking at Hiyori who's blush returned full force. Yukine pathetically tried to deny he was a fugitive, then demanded they meet him in the cleaning closet in an hour.

"We will! I'll make sure, I promise." Hiyori said and drifted away from the ship as well.

"Okay. Be careful." Yukine clicked off the control panel. Hiyori turned around to Yato, only to see nothing but empty space. Movement above her to the right caught her eye. She looked up to see Yato twirling across the ship like a ballerina. He stopped when he felt her looking at him, smiling.

"Come on, Hiyori!" Yato pushed off the ship and flew like Superman. The Eve laughed and gently levitated towards him.

"I see you got the hang of those boots." She remarked. Yato was now on his side, like he was about to be drawn as a French girl.

"Yeah, I hooked them up to my computer and tried to update. It was a bit complicated, and my system's a bit out dated, but it's still ones and zeros in the end. I mostly got the settings and commands." Yato scratched the back of his helmet as he rambled. Hiyori was, nonetheless, impressed.

"You hacked a system more advanced and converted it to match yours?"

"Uh, kinda?" Yato made a face like it was hard to explain.

"I couldn't do most of it, I've only been at it for a couple minutes now, but that basically the gist," he puffed out his chest, "but lucky for you I'm a master hacker!" Yato reached up to rub his finger under his nose only to bonk it against the clear glass. Hiyori laughed at his antics, Yato laughing along with her.

"I didn't know you knew programming, Yato?" Hiyori said.

"It was one of the things you had to learn in cyborg academy." Yato explained. He then faced the front of the ship and tucked his legs in, looking to the side at Hiyori.

"In fact," Yato smirked at her, "I bet I can kick these babies up a notch faster than yours." He took off towards the front of the ship in a blur of white. Hiyori cranked up her own boots and clicked on her audio.

"Oh you're on!"

[thornbolts]

Shootout at Steeltusk Saloon

((Trying something new with writing. I’d like to get more into action scenes. These action-heavy adventures will be featured under the tag: barking irons.))

tw: blood, violence, firearms

"I'm lookin' fer a whiny shitstain of a shot and cowardly arsonist and murderer by the name 'a Theodorick Thackeray, who's so stupid that if he had brains fer dynamite, he couldn't blow his nose."

The entire saloon halted at the undead's entrance,  The flapping doors grated, letting in a sharp beam of Badlands sun behind the lone undead as she sized the whole room up with a dry yellow eye.

The ragtag assortment of disheveled outlaws squinted at her all at once.

A taller, stubbled man rose from his seat at the back bar, lips widening to reveal black tobacco-stained teeth. He gently pinged his spur into the metal barstool leg.

Pistols, shotguns, rifles drew. All muzzles pointed toward Remington. She leaned her hat backward, sweeping her gaze across the bar's now hostile denizens.

"I'm gonna give you another chance," the stubbled man's tone dropped lower, goading the undead. "What did you say about Theodorick Thackeray?"

Remington doffed her hat, laying it on the adjacent window's sill as she faced back toward the group. "I said I'm lookin' fer a whiny shitstain of a shot and cowardly arsonist and murderer by the name 'a Theodorick Thackeray, who's so much of a dumbass that if his brains were leather, he wouldn't have enough ta saddle a scorpion." She stared right back at the man as she splayed her hands out with a cocky grin. "And if yer him, ya really are so stupid that ya couldn't piss outta a boot with instructions written on the heel."

The stubbled man shook his head, facing back toward the bar and taking another seat. He raised his hand, an index finger extended up before pointing at Remington.

The saloon lit up in a frenzy of gunfire. Bullets tore through the undead's sandy poncho. The salvo lasted near fifteen consecutive seconds of non-stop shooting. Glass shattered under the hail of projectiles, scattering all over the wooden floor as spent cartridges and shells joined them and clinked against the shards.

Gunpowder and the hot hiss of glowing muzzles were all that remained after the thundering cacophony of lead.

Yet the forsaken still stood, her hole-ridden poncho revealing the bent ghost iron plating shielding her torso. Fragmented and blossomed bullets trickled down the armor in a jingling rain.

She smiled. "Like I said: Stupid."

The gunslinger drew her pistol in a blur of motion as a goblin to the left began to reload. She squeezed the trigger before he could swing back the grimy cylinder back into his revolver, shooting a hole between his bloodshot eyes.

KA-CHUNK. The sound of a shotgun rattled behind her. "HURK!" The ogre brandishing the weapon heaved a giant poker table up like a shield, cards fluttering about the gunsmoke.

BANG! Remy dove behind an upturned table, the blast shredding the hat rack behind where she previously stood in a hail of wooden shrapnel. The undead clutched a preserved cat's paw within her cold palm. She sprang out from the cover, squeezed the paw, then raked her claws horizontally across the air.

Four thick red stripes slashed through the poker table across the ogre's torso with an unseen, sinister force. The ogre collapsed in a quickly-bleeding heap, two stubby arms covering his belly to keep his innards within.

"Make yer piece, Theo," the forsaken growled as she twisted her cat's wrist. "Ya ain't got much time left."

The force was hungry for blood, and this den of outlaws was the perfect grounds to sate its appetite. The tauren lifted as the vengeful presence snarled, twisting his bones in unnatural directions with a slew of sickening snaps and breaks.

Remington swung her claws toward Theodorick himself.

It was the perfect way of subduing without rope or manacles. The force threw the tauren like a ragdoll, crumpling over the human and knocking the wind out of his lungs with cracked ribs.

The forsaken swung her gaze to the rest of the den.

That momentary distraction was all a troll needed. He gritted his teeth against his tusks, sweeping low with a curved blade the size of Remington herself.

He was fast, but Remington was faster. She leaped up over the vicious blade and swung her fist downward, muttering a discordant incantation as her feet touched the bar counter.

The force followed the movement, smashing the troll's entire figure into itself like a crumpled tin can. Red splattered out from the display, staining, rendering the remaining four living combatants scarred.

The undead marked her targets.

A gnome fumbling about with her shotgun, struggling to load shells into the loading dock. The weapon much too big for her height.

Another human, his fingers shaking and unable to load more bullets into the chambers of his six-shooter, likely his first shootout.

Two half-elves peeking out from below the windows outside. The first tossed knife after jagged knife toward Remington. The other raised her palms, a fiery boulder welling up between her hands.

The gunslinger raised her pistol, smacking down the hammer of her weapon after each shot, sending a volley of bullets at the flying knives.

PING! PING! PING! PING! Bullets collided with blades in mid-air as the projectiles harmlessly clattered to the bloodied ground.

Remington twisted the cat's paw-holding wrist again, hopping off of the counter.

The snarling force levitated the first half-elf up, twisting his head and body in opposite directions before dropping him like a broken doll with a dull thud.

The other elf's eyes widened, losing her composure with the giant fireball between her palms. The magic went wild, unstable flame coalescing and condensing before it exploded in a great blaze, obliterating both the elf and a third of the saloon porch.

The gunslinger shielded her gaze, though caught the gnome finally raising her shotgun in the her direction.

BOOM! Remington took the blast of buckshot to her ghost iron plating. She swung her fist out.

The unseen force rammed into the gnome, sending her crashing into the rickety wooden shelves behind the bar and toppling them on top of her.

With a shaky grip, the remaining human trained his sights onto the lone undead. He squeezed the trigger repeatedly, sending wild shots around her figure.

Undeterred by his poor aim, Remington walked forward, spurs clinking as her hard leather soles stepped through blood and glass

He yelped as she gripped his pistol and wrenched the barrel into the underside of his chin.

Remington forced his trigger finger down.

BANG.

"Theodorick Thackeray," her voice chuckled through the saloon. "Wanted fer the arson of an elderly couple's homestead after ya threatened them fer not housin' yer outlaws. That was after ya were wantin' ta lay low after ya killed a band 'a innocent whiskey merchants when a robbery went wrong."

Theodorick whimpered, unable to muster any words as he cowered before the figure looming over him. He could feel the heavy weight of the tauren's corpse crushing him, cracking his ribs and compressing his lungs. His breathing was shallow as he reached a weak hand up toward Remington.

"M-Mercy," he wheezed.

"Ya don't deserve it.” Remington snapped back. “Besides, yer bounty’ll be payin’ my folks ta eat fer one more month.”

She slid her pistol back into its holster and pocketed the cat's paw. No, she wouldn't waste ammunition on him. Remington slid her oak-handled hunting knife out from her boar leather sheathe. She punctured the man's cheeks between her clawed fingers, holding him in a vice grip. The undead hovered the tip of the weapon just before the human’s eye.

"So why don't ya be useful fer once in yer life and give me yer head, Theo?”

[thetakenpokemon]

Unavoidable Bar Brawls

[Location: Woodbranch - Small Town located on the edge of Evolutia] [PoV: Grace - Member of Night Warden team: Dark Bane]

I can feel the eyes of many people watching us as we walk through the small town, many of them suspicious.

I’ve heard of many ill things of the town of Woodbranch, how it’s run by aggressive families and gangs who dwell in...unsavory businesses. We’re not here to deal with these people however, since we’re here for...information.

We’ve been searching for an Ultra Beast - specifically a Guzzlord. There’s been reports that some of the people of Woodbranch have seen it, thus the purpose of our visit.

“Aight, I’m gonna go and ask the boss of this place so we can get the hell out of here.” Nina says in a somewhat impatient tone. “Kinda wanting to get this mission over with.”

I glance at the Lycanroc, my eyes slowly drifting down to the giant clawed gauntlets on her hands. The sharp claws glint menacingly in the sunlight, the sight giving hints on what they’re capable of.

I look at another party-member, one I’m a bit more concerned for - Pythia.

The Alakazam is currently looking at the surrounding people anxiously, from the way she’s muttering I can tell that she’s doing some sort of mental exercise to keep her nerves under control. She never does well in crowded areas, especially in places that has a rather...hostile environment.

Seeing the rather unfriendly faces of the townsfolk? Definitely rather...hostile.

I slow my pace to match Pythia. “Are you holding up well?” I ask, knowing the answer that she isn’t really. The point of this question isn’t to point out the obvious though, it’s to show concern - something I hope would at least partially put her at ease.

She glances at me, her muttering stopping. Pythia looks at everything except my eyes, as if avoiding to make eye-contact. After a long time she finally does meet my gaze - only to break it a second late.

“S-Somewhat...” She mutters quietly, her hands burrowing into the pockets of her robes - probably to hold onto her stowed spoons. “I...don’t like this place. Very stressful and....unwelcome.”

I nod my head understandingly. “I agree. Thankfully we won’t be here for very long.”

I try my best to smile reassuringly, but I didn’t do very well. The attempt didn’t go unnoticed at least, seeing the tiniest smile I see on her lips.

More satisfied that she’s calmer, I turn my gaze to the next teammate that I should feel concerned for: Flint.

The Gardevoir is currently glaring at the surrounding townsfolk, his exposed arm currently pulling up his bandanna to cover the lower-half of his face. Despite the shadows that his long-brimmed hat is casting over his eyes, I can tell that he’s looking for something due the way he’s glancing around.

As we continue to walk I notice that we’re passing a sort of bar, and immediately Flint speaks up - albeit quietly. “I need a drink.” He mutters before immediately breaking off from the team, walking straight for the bar.

The second he did this I see my fourth teammate step near me - Shiro.

The Gothitelle hybrid looks at me, the direction of the sun casting a shadow over his pale-white bird-like face. The appearance looks very...menacing, especially with his glowing purple eyes. His vine-like arm clenches, the tendril-like ‘fingers’ twisting and writhing. “Keep an eye on him.” He tells me in a low tone. “Knowing him, he’ll cause trouble. I’ll stay with Nina and Pythia to make sure that everything is in order.”

I nod my head, feeling my eyebrows furrow slightly. “Understood.” I respond before also breaking from the party, following the Gardevoir into the bar.

Upon stepping to the place? A bad feeling started welling in my gut.

A lot of very...questionable figures are around the place, either drinking or gambling. Soft music is playing in the background, but that doesn’t really help with the atmosphere.

I see Flint walking up to the bar, as well as...all of the eyes that are on him. At one point every Pokemon here stopped what they were doing to glare at him, their gazes showing clear hostility.

When he sat down they slowly began to return to whatever it was they were doing, although the tense atmosphere never left.

I knew that approaching Flint at this point would do nothing, so all I could do was ‘wait’.

I quickly walk down the bar, my current destination being an open table in the corner. I can feel several eyes on me as well, although some are suspicious, the emotion from them is definitely ‘different’ due to the lust in their eyes.

My figure seems to attract a lot of looks like that, but thankfully my hybrid appearance tends to make most have second-thoughts on making any advances towards me - specifically the two giant ‘spiked shell-like shields’ that are attached to my arms.

Upon reaching the table I sit down, and...I watch.

Although I can’t hear anything from my current position, I see Flint order a drink. The barkeeper begrudgingly pours an amber liquid into a small glass before sliding it into the Gardevoir’s exposed hand.

The biggest thing about Flint is his attire - and how...much it stands out.

He’s dressed pretty much exactly like a Human cowboy. His long-brimmed brown hat, his dark poncho, his light shirt underneath his dark vest, his dark pants, and his boots. The only thing missing is the gun.

Cowboys are...not very well-received in Evolutia, most especially because of the fact that they’re associated with guns since they’re commonly depicted as...gunslingers in Progrian media.

Guns have a massive negative stigma in Evolutia, nearly every Pokemon dislikes or outright hates them. Although I don’t necessarily share that ideal, I know that countless others do.

And that combined with the fact that we’re in a shady bar where everyone obviously doesn’t want us here? It’s very clear on why Flint wanted to be in this place.

He’s looking for a fight.

Right on queue I see one of the large Pokemon sitting near him - specifically a Pangoro - get up and start talking to Flint. I still don’t hear what they’re saying, but seeing the Pokemon’s expression? It’s very clear that he’s probably saying something along the lines of ‘we don’t want your kind here’ and ‘leave before we hurt you’.

Flint responds to this by taking a sip from his glass, seemingly ignoring him. This only pisses off the Pangoro more, in which he promptly tries to slap the glass out of his hands.

In a flash, Flint catches the Pangoro by the wrist with his other arm - the one that the Gardevoir kept concealed under his poncho.

The dim light of the bar glints off the metallic surface of the arm. Although it seems like a prosthetic, in reality it’s actually an elbow-length gauntlet. With a twist he slams the Pangoro’s face right into the bar, causing a crunching noise that even I can hear.

Flint then throws the Pokemon back, causing them to stumble back before collapsing - blood pouring from their now broken nose.

Immediately several Pokemon around the bar stand up, murder glinting in their eyes.

Yup...

Here we go again...

I watch as a fight breaks out between Flint and the countless Pokemon. As several of them charge, Flint intercepts the first one by grabbing their body. Twisting his waist he uses the Pokemon’s momentum to throw them at another charging individual, sending them both sprawling on the ground.

The battle then quickly turns into a brawl of fists - something that Flint is very accustomed to. He ducks and weaves around the assaulting blows before delivering precise punches of his own, either breaking the nose of attacking Pokemon or knocking their wind out with a blow to their gut. This goes on for a little while before I notice a Bisharp standing up, his blades unsheathing from his arms.

Well...guess it’s time I intervene.

As the Bisharp charges Flint from behind, I leap from my chair. Just as the Pokemon is about to blindside my teammate, I step in front of the blow and turn myself to my side so that the ‘shield’ on my arm blocks it.

A loud ‘clinging’ noise is heard throughout the chaos as metal meets metal, and the Bisharp glares at me.

“So the hybrid whore decides to get involved.” He spits, his eyes narrowing. “Although I thought you were sexy at first, I should’ve known that a Bisharp freak like you will-”

I could’ve let him finish speaking, but I didn’t see a point since he had nothing intelligent or beneficial to say. With a swing of my arm I let my shield smash into his face, sending him crashing into one of the nearby tables.

At this point pretty much every ‘patron’ is standing and charging us, whatever weapons in their possession already drawn.

It quickly descends further into chaos with me and Flint in the center. Despite the overwhelming numbers, our skills in combat laughably dwarfs whatever ‘skills’ these thugs possess.

I easily block any attacks that are aimed towards me with my shields before swiftly responding with a swing of my own, either flattening a Pokemon’s face or leaving deep gash with its spikes. Flint on the other hand continues to rely on his fisticuffs, ducking and weaving before delivering a blow or throw. This seems to go on for several minutes, the count of unconscious bodies of our assailants growing higher and higher.

A loud scream of anger draws both of our attentions. When we both turn we see a Lucario glaring at us with rage, a sphere of swirling energy between her paws. Not a second later she throws it at us.

Without wasting a moment I throw myself into the direction of the sphere before crouching down and having my arms press my sides. This action causes the two shields to clamp together, completely encasing myself in what can only be described as a cocoon of metal.

Although I’m now completely surrounded in darkness, I feel my body shake heavily from recoil as the Aura Sphere explodes upon my frame with a loud booming noise.

With the attack absorbed I unclamp my shields and stand up, prepared to deflect another shot if need be.

The Lucario already has her paws close together to create another Aura Sphere, but she never got the chance to conjure it.

A bright shot of energy streaks past me and hits her straight in the shoulder. As blood starts gushing from the newly created hole, she starts screams in agony before falling to her knees, grasping the wound.

I look to the side to see Flint with his gauntlet arm outstretched, his finger pointing at her with the tip glowing with the same-colored light as the bolt. It’s clear that he was the one that shot her.

“Recommend stayin’ down, girl.” He says, loud enough for the Lucario to hear. “I don’t intend ta’ shoot three times, after all.”

At this point there’s no more people standing - except for the barkeeper, who is looking at both of us with a mixture of anger and fear. The entire bar is a wreck now, most tables and chairs being shattered as well as the floor being scorched black from the explosion of the Aura Sphere.

Flint turns and walks over to the mostly damaged bar and grabs his still intact drink. With one motion he downs the rest of the liquid and sets it down. Pulling a few dollars from his belt he places them beside the empty glass and then tips his hat at the barkeeper. “Thanks for tha’ drink.” He says to them.

“Get the hell out of here.” They respond back, their teeth grinding. It’s obvious that he wants to wring Flint’s throat, but they know better.

Flint responds with a snort before turning and walking towards the door.

I follow after him - taking care to not step on anyone. After we fully leave the place, I glance at him with clear irritation.

“I hope you’re happy.” I say quietly, making it clear that I am not in fact happy with occurrence of recent events

He merely smirks at me before pulling up his bandanna to cover his face. “Yep.” He responds back. “Sure am.”

[lethal-chiralium]

Honestly | {p.p.}

A/N: okay so this is freakin cute and I love it sm ❤️❤️ this is for @spectacular-spiderboy’s 600 follower celebration!!!! Congrats btw!!!!!!

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Prompt: “Spoilers.” (its bolded and underlined)

Word Count: 4481

Warnings: sass, cussing, cold, hypothermia, blood??? there’s fluff if you squint

Summary: so basically they’re arch nemeses and they have to go on a mission together and stuff happens and (spoilers ;))

(GIF’s not mine!! It’s @starksparker ‘s!!)

“Little Stark.” Peter Parker welcomed you coldly as you sat in between MJ and Ned at your lunch table, you roll your eyes. “Webslinger.” You snark, setting down your lunch tray and backpack, you pulled out your book and began to read. MJ snickered, shaking her head as she read over your shoulder, Ned sighed as he continued to explain something to Peter. “You know, just because memes are a viral language doesn’t mean you have to spew them from your mouth 24/7.” You say blankly, and Ned snickered. Peter snorted. “I don’t talk in memes, Y/N, for your information. Keep reading your stupid book.” “Reading Agatha Christie is stupid, really? She’s the best, that’s the tea.” “I’m gonna kill you.”

You and Peter Parker weren’t exactly friends, but you were arch nemeses. You hated each other, but not enough to kill each other, but both of you were very competitive. Sure, you’ve tried to strangle him but he was lucky your father was there to save him. You both fight each other to be the best in your father’s eyes, even though he thinks both of you are the best, but he won’t stop you. You know that he finds it funny, but that won’t stop you; that little Spider-Prick is trying to steal your spotlight. Tomorrow was Saturday, and that meant a mission for you. You figured it would be a perfect time to show how strong you are to your father and his colleagues; you were ready for tomorrow. You were accompanying Steve, Bucky, and Tony to Siberia to locate and destroy old Hydra bases; something easy since the Avengers had just killed off the rest of Hydra two weeks ago. You had fought in the battle with Bucky, and unfortunately, Spider-Man. You hated him with a burning passion, you wanted to squish him just like one of his spider-kin. That was your only goal as of then.

*** “Shit, it’s cold.” You muttered as you glanced over the temperature on the Quinjet. It had displayed the temperature around the grounded jet to be two degrees Fahrenheit, and you were suddenly regretting your begging and pleading. “Regretting being with the big leagues, Y/N?” Peter joked from across the Quinjet, and you rolled your eyes. “I was with the big leagues before you even knew about the Avengers.” You mocked him, rubbing in his face that you knew them longer and better than he ever will. You glanced over your shoulder to Peter, who rolled his eyes as the three adults were unbothered. Tony was getting set up to leave, you were swatting away your nervousness about the cold. The sun was due to rise in an hour, and yet everyone was quiet, Tony was nervous about you going but you assured him time and time again that you were going to be fine. He was in his suit, while you were in your leather suit; it mirrored Natasha’s since you’ve been training with her since you were ten. She was (and is) your best friend, you’ve always wanted to mirror her. Steve and Bucky were ready to go, and so was Peter. He was just waiting for your father to lead. “Alright, let’s get a move on. We’ll be in two groups. Barnes, Steve, and I will be going in first and we’re going right, you two are to go to the left. When we get at least a hundred feet away, you are to start patrolling. If you find something, call me. If you’re in trouble, call me. If you can’t find us on the map, don’t call me. Just come back to the Quinjet. We are to meet here by dusk. Is that clear?” Tony’s voice was harsh, commanding, and you nodded. So did Peter, he glanced to you before looking to your father, you scoffed. You didn’t backtalk your father, you knew better. You just questioned his sanity with putting you and your arch nemesis on the same team. He glanced to you, giving you the ‘don’t be a prick’ glare he always does before he pulled on his Iron Man helmet, its lights coming to life with a flash of white light. You get up from your seat, and you grabbed your backpack that sat near your feet. You slid your bag onto your shoulders, then you walked towards the massive open pantry where your white, fleece and wool poncho hung. You grabbed it and pulled it on, just in time, seeing that Tony had now began to open the back of the Quinjet. You felt the absolutely frozen air hit you in the face and you shivered, only to pull up the hood on your poncho and place your hands in its giant pocket. It was basically a massive sweatshirt without sides and was amazingly warm, but it still felt like you got hit in the face with a bunch of ice cubes. You fished out your own mask, one that encapsulated the front of your face except for your forehead, and placed it on your face, hearing it automatically click onto your leather suit underneath. Your hand slid up the right side of your head, pressing the small button twice to power it on. A bright light flashed, and now the dark outside was green, but you could see everything. You could see some screens of your health and locations of Tony, Steve, Bucky and ‘Spiderling’, as well as their health statuses. You had this because you were the most trained medically, other than Doctor Strange and Bruce. But on this mission, you were playing first responder. Your boots sounded heavy against the metal, seeing that you were the last one aboard. But, you were walking down the ramp right after Bucky, who was in a Bomber Jacket. As long as you’ve known the secluded assassin, you’ve had the common ground of hating any temperature below sixty degrees. He was now catching up to Steve and Tony, who were almost fifty feet ahead, while you slowly felt the first crunch of snow underneath your boots. You were now three feet away from the ramp, and you looked to your right to see Peter glancing around. He was only a few feet away, but he was admiring the view through his glowing masked eyes. You shook your head, as you heard the ramp begin to close, leaving you and Peter alone in the unforgiving cold. Peter coughed slightly, before he looked back down to you. “Are...Are you ready to go?” You shrugged, the wind nipped at your nose and cheeks. “I’m ready to patrol with an actual Avenger.” He scoffed, you could hear his eyes rolling. “Whatever. They’re almost two hundred feet out, we might wanna head our way.” You shook your head again, and you turned towards the left, starting to walk towards the snow-blanketed forest. The crunch of snow began to double as Peter followed you, and he soon caught up to you, walking step by step with you. “So, what are we even supposed to look for?” Peter asked, and you scoffed. Of course he would forget. “We’re looking for any buildings that look like they’re rundown, it’s one of the main ways to camouflage. Dad and Steve and Bucky are going North, there was more of them up there. There was only one or two on the map that I saw around our location.” You spoke through the comms, blinking widely to look around the forest. Sunrise was due in an hour, so it was still severely dark in the forest, but your night vision made it perfect to see everything. Spiderling had half-night vision, since his eyes are too delicate to use a higher rate of night vision like you and your father can (Aka, you and your father spend days in front of computers, it’s not surprising). “Do you want me to get on the trees and look for the buildings?” Peter suggested, you rolled your eyes. “I’m not climbing up a tree to fix a broken wrist, you’re staying on the ground with me, you fuckin’ weirdo.” You barked harshly, yet quietly, as not to alert anyone in the vicinity. “Wow, don’t have a better insult?” Peter giggled, and you rolled your eyes. He always riled you up. “I will put your night vision at full max and kill your vision.” “Woah woah woah, kids, don’t kill each other yet.” You hear Bucky’s voice in your earpiece, and you growled in distaste. “We’re getting snow up here, just a flurry. I’ll contact you if it get worse.” You huffed, cradling yourself even tighter to keep your cold body warm.. “Okay, be safe. Going offline, emergency contact will reach only me.” “Good luck, kids. Call us if you need us.” Bucky’s voice then disappeared, as you shut off your signal. You looked to your right at Peter, he cocked his head to the side. “Turn off your signal, dude. They’ve got signal readers for a reason.” You rolled your eyes before looking ahead as you walked through the freezing forest. But that’s when you saw movement. “Shit.” The air around the two of you tensed, as you see a figure appear around a tree, and you bolted forwards. Your hand went straight to your waist, where your weapon belt was concealed by your poncho. Peter was right on your heels, both of you were quick and agile, taking down the Hydra bases would be a piece of cake. But, you had be faster with this guy, it felt like he was already a mile ahead. “This guy’s fast, take to the trees, Spiderling.” You commanded, and Peter yelled a short, “You got it!” as you heard the rustle of trees and a deep crunch of snow. Your hand grabbed the small cylinder that was strapped to your belt and you yanked it down, and your fighting stick, as you called it, was ready to beat someone’s ass. It was made out of Vibranium, it was a gift from Princess Shuri in Wakanda. And it was your favorite weapon by far, since it only took a few hits to take Peter down (he was taking it easy on you, but you didn’t need to know that). Your hand gripped it tightly as you followed the man, but you always checked your surroundings. You kept your eyes on him as you followed him through trees, until you both reached a massive clearing that extended down the Belukha Mountain and into the Atlai Mountain Range. It was like a path, like going down a hiking trail with a path. It was just snow, down a winding, wooded path to the massive valley. The guy had looked back to you for a split second, slowing down, and you gained at least three feet towards him before he sprinted down the mountain. You sprinted after him, down the dangerous path. It was slick, and you knew you were going to break a bone if you didn’t land right. But you pressed on, sliding down some of the path and cutting every curve of the path through the trees. He was closer now, he was growing tired and you weren’t; your stamina was higher than Natasha’s, you could run a lot longer than Sam or Tony. You were ready to pounce on this guy, but you didn’t see the gun he was pulling from his waistband until he turned a sharp corner into the forest, while you almost hit a tree. Your feet slipped and your head almost hit the stump of the tree, and you let out a sharp growl in shock. You looked towards the direction he was going, only to growl in dismay. Your hand went to your mask, and you pressed the communication button that went to Peter. “Fuck, I lost him.” “Where are you? I lost sight of you ten minutes ago.” Peter’s voice was a little distorted, and you began to breathe heavily from the sudden stop. “I don’t know, I’m down the mountain, there’s this winding path. Where are you? Your comm sounds distorted.” You sighed, placing your hand on your hip. Peter sighed. “Is it snowing there?” You looked up and around, seeing the daze of massive snowflakes, slowly falling to the ground. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, why?” “It’s like a fucking blizzard here, I’m webbing away and I think I’m close to the path you’re talk about. Stand in the middle of it, I shou-” You didn’t hear him after you suddenly heard gunshots, and you bolted forwards, out of the forest and down the mountain again. You didn’t even look back as you heard a flurry of bullets zip past you, you ran fast and hard, cutting curves and through the trees. You wanted to stay and fight, but you’d rather not get shot...again. Last time, it was hella painful. “Kinda can’t do that!” You squealed, as you grabbed onto a tree to swing yourself around a curve. “Got someone shooting at me!” “On it!” Peter answered sharply, and you kept running. The bullets kept coming and coming, your heart was in your throat and your head was pounding. You held onto your staff tightly, as you looked around as you sprinted through the trail. You couldn’t see buildings, anything other than trees. “Keep running, Y/N, I see ‘em. Don’t stop ‘til I tell you, yeah?” “Whatever keeps me un-shot!” You screeched, before diving through a wall of trees and back into the obstacle of the forest. It was only twenty feet until the cleared area of the path was placed, but you could hear the gunshots suddenly stop. You kept going, though, your feet were growing tired but you kept going until you heard Peter say, “Stop running, Y/N. You’re in sight.” You slammed to a stop as you jammed your staff into the snow, slowing you down immediately. Your hands gripped the staff so tightly, you could feel your pulses in them. In fact, you could feel your pulse everywhere, but mostly on your side. You let out some heavy breaths as you heard Peter’s footsteps and his commentary, “Shit, the snow’s coming. I was up there a few minutes ago and it was turning into a blizzard, that means Mr. Stark- Shit, you’re bleeding!” You looked to Peter, a confused look on your face. “I’m not fuckin’ bleeding-” You looked down to your white poncho, only to see that red was seeping through on your right side, and that was when the pain hit you like a train. It was burning, but yet it was freezing due to the blast of cold Siberian air. “Oh fucking fuck, come on!” Peter didn’t laugh, he only moved forwards and grabbed your shoulders, making you look to his mask. He moved you backwards to a tree, and forced you down, you let out a loud squeal in pain. He mumbled his apology as he pulled back your poncho to see how bad it was. But he looked back to you, then towards the gray mountain. It was supposed to be sunrise in half an hour- “Shit, the storm’s coming in.” Peter muttered before he looked at you. You were breathing heavily, your staff still in hand, seeing that he forced you to drag it away from where you stabbed it into snow. “I-I looked on the map before I found you, there’s an abandoned warehouse down a little ways. It’s not Hydra, it was cleared a couple weeks ago, the bases we’re looking for are farther up but I’m not taking you into the storm.” You growled, glaring at him through your mask. “We need to get back to the Quinjet.” “But we can’t. We could get ambushed or get separated. That wound needs attention in somewhere where it isn’t almost twenty mile per hour winds. Can you stay here alone for a bit?” He spoke harshly, and you kind of bit your tongue. You knew you couldn’t argue, so you nodded. He sharply nodded back before saying, “I’ll be back in less than ten minutes.” And he looked up, shot his webs, then he was gone again. You sighed out a pained breath, placing your poncho closer to your body. You moved up against the tree, remembering that your backpack was still strapped to your back as you moved against it. You growled in pain, looking around to see if anyone was coming after to you. But, you didn’t have to wait long when you saw the red and blue suit appear in front of you once more. His hands pulled you from your spot, and carefully into his arms. You hissed in pain, wanting to punch him for picking you up but you know he was doing it to protect you. *** After Peter had patrolled the warehouse, he was back with you at the backwall of the massive warehouse he had found. It was as tall as a two story house and was as long as three houses, give or take. But, you sat at the backwall, cleaning the graze with some alcohol pads you had in your first aid kit. He was watching you bandage yourself up, and holding your flashlight for you. You both were silent, as you cut the bandages with your Swiss knife, and placed the excess and your knife back in your backpack. You looked to Peter, who sat only two feet away from you. Your back was against the wall, pain running through your body, and you wanted to curl into a ball and cry, but you wouldn’t let Peter see you weak and vulnerable. Peter cleared his throat as he turned off the flashlight, now the only light left around you guys was the glowing snow outside. It was like a hurricane of snow, a white blanket was on every window and the wind howled against the warehouse. “Karen says that you’re getting colder, didn’t you bring some clothes with you?” You nodded, and Peter grabbed your bag from you, only to pull out the small blanket and sweatshirt you brought. He sighed. “I know those looks, Y/N, but I can’t let you get hurt or die. I’m being nice because we are alone and we have no contact with Mr. Stark. I’ve been trying to call them but it won’t get through, so we’re on our own.” Peter huffed sharply. “So, quit being a bitch for a few seconds, would you?” You blinked at him, then you rolled your eyes before reaching for your bag. The pain began to flare up and you winced, falling back to the wall. “Whatever, you fuckin’ prick. Gimme my bag.” You snarled softly, but your voice wasn’t as intimidating as it usually was. Peter pushed the bag to you with his foot, and you looked at him, seeing your hoodie in his hands. “And my sweatshirt. I had to take the top of my suit off, gimme my sweatshirt.” He tossed it to you before he turned around, giving you the chance to take off your poncho and you slid on your sweatshirt. You dug into your bag and grabbed your thin pair of sweatpants, and you took off the rest of your suit. You slid on your sweatpants with some difficulty of moving your butt up from the ground. After you were settled in some clean clothes, you placed your poncho on your legs as you sat Indian style. “You can look now, I’m in my clothes.” Peter turned back to you, and gazed at you for a moment, only to say, “Do you have any food?” You raised an eyebrow. “Why?” “I checked the radar and the snowstorm is gonna last a day or two.” He sighed, and he pulled his mask off, his hair now shooting out in fluffy curls. His eyes met your’s and your heart sunk. He looked scared. The both of you went silent, now you could hear the wind grate against the warehouse. You shuddered, looking to Peter, who was looking anywhere else but you. He looked like he was shivering a little bit, his hands were on his arms. You both sat there for a few moments, and you felt a little guilty. You were in new clothes, you had something to keep you warm while Peter had his suit; that was it. You sighed. “You can sit by me, I’m not gonna bite. We both have to stay warm.” You pat the spot to your left, to make sure your injury wasn’t irritated. He looked at you hesitantly, but you shrugged, giving him a soft look before he gets on all fours to crawl over to you. He settled a few inches away from you, but you didn’t mind. Back home, you would’ve been trying to strangle him by now; now, you’re glad that he saved your life. Your eyes were growing heavy, and you sighed. “Did you make your signal send to Dad or one of the supers?” “Yeah, Karen’s sending it every ten minutes-” “Ms. Stark, your core body temperature is getting close to 95 degrees Fahrenheit.” You hear Karen from Peter’s suit, and you grumbled. How were you this cold already? The two of you have been in this place for an hour, and you had layers on- Oh yeah, there is a severe draft coming from somewhere. That and your leather suit doesn’t do shit for keeping you insulated. “Shit.” peter muttered, before he turned to you, looking softly. His eyes met yours and you swallowed the lump in your throat from being so close to Peter. “My suit has a heater.” You narrowed your eyes. “And?” It wasn’t long after that when Peter leaned forwards and hugged you to him. He used one arm to pull the poncho over both of you, and he scooted down to lay on the floor. He pulled you with him, letting you lay on your left side as he grabbed the blanket and draped it over the poncho, trying to keep you warm. His one arm was underneath your left side, as your cheek was pressed onto his chest, your leg awkwardly across his, and your arms were awkwardly around him. You wanted to go jump off the mountain, but, you did see how gentlemanly he was being. Trying to keep you warm, saving your life… Silently flirting with you. Oh yeah, he thinks you haven’t noticed the winks or casual flirting, but this… This makes you feel weird. You didn’t know why but it felt… right to be like this. You banished your thoughts for the rest of the night, as you drifted into slumber. *** “Y/N, come on, get up.” Peter shook you awake as gently as he could, and you mumbled, “Why?” as you softly sat up from your position on top of Peter. Your side burned and ached but it was dull, your mind was spinning and you felt very cold. “Your temperature’s getting too low. You’re gonna have to wear my suit.” He says gently as he sits up in front of you, and you feel a cold chill run up your spine. Your mind was spinning still, but you hazily nodded as you let Peter help you stand. His hand were gentle as they turned you around so he could change, and you looked up and stared at the rest of the empty warehouse. It was dark now, the snow still blanketed the windows and you wanted to curl back up against Peter. Woah woah woah, I don’t like Peter like that- Don’t argue with yourself, bro, you have to admit that he’s cute. He’s not cute! He’s a lazy prick- “Y/N, here.” He grabbed your hand, which made you jump, but you didn’t turn around. You could now feel the soft suit in your hand, and you softly gripped it. “I’m turning around now.” You began to strip, only to question Peter. “What about clothes for you?” “I’ll just wear your sweats and hoodie. I’ll be fine.” “You’ll freeze.” You bark softly, as you took off the sweatpants, only to place your left foot in the suit and you instantly felt the heat. “Doesn’t matter to me.” You pulled the suit on your legs and on your arms, pulling it on your shoulders. You pressed the Spider emblem, which when encased you in its warmth. You grumbled as you threw your sweats and hoodie over your shoulder, bending down to get them made your body ache. “It should, Peter. You shouldn’t just give me your suit, I’m your enemy outside of the Avengers. We hate each other. We’ve never stopped hating each other, and I’m sure it’ll never change.” Peter didn’t speak after that, he only tapped you on the shoulder. You turned around and he didn’t look at you as he laid back down on the floor, you followed suit. You laid back down on his chest, your leg wasn’t over his, your arm wasn’t over his chest. Only your head was there, listening to his racing heart. “It’s  true, Peter.” You say softly, gazing at your sweatshirt on the boy. Peter took a deep breath. “I wish it wasn’t.” Your eyes widened, but you didn’t move to look at him. Your breath hitched, you could hear his heart pound as he continued. “I wish we could’a been friends, Y/N. I hate fighting with such a wonderful person, I wish I didn’t have to be such a dick to you. I fucking hate being such a dick to a girl so smart and awesome like you.” He half chuckled. “Here’s some fuckin’ spoilers, I like you. I like you a fuck ton of a lot and I know you hate me with your stone cold heart, so let me just say that I’ve liked you ever since I’ve met you and now, I can’t let you get hurt because it hits me like a train, because spoilers, I love you, okay? I fucking love you and I hate hating and fighting with you and I just want it to stop, okay? Can we just stop being enemies and be on good terms? Can you get that through your brain?” You couldn’t feel anything in your body. Your breath hitched when he said the ‘L’ word and you wanted to scream into a pillow. He just cussed you out, restarted your relationship with each other, and confessed his feelings for you? You felt like you hit your head too hard, but you were on Cloud Nine because your heart was racing too. Your head moved from his chest and you hovered over him, eyes almost glazed with tears as you raced forwards, smashing your lips to his without a second thought.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe starting something good would be better than trying to kill each other.

[novodust]

My Original Characters MasterPost 3

its a bit long and i dont wanna scroll a whole bunch whenever i go past this so its going under the cut

Old ones I sometimes draw

Alex- Non binary- they/them- square glasses- video games

Koko- Cis Girl- she/her- loves flowers

Ones I use currently

Sam Harris- Cis Girl- she/her- Pansexual- half Japanese half American- can speak spanish (learned in school)- she’s short tempered and cause of that keeps on getting into fights for really dumb reasons like sam honey no you fool! also she keeps on cutting off the sleeves on her clothes cause she thinks its ‘cool.’ this dumbass also swears a lot- Dating Hannah- Bakugou

General appearance description: Sam is light complexioned and is the shortest! she has a short haired neon blue undercut of wavy hair. its shaved off on both sides and a bit on the back. she has sharp teeth and always wears winged eyeliner. She wears black piercings on both ears at the bottom and two silver piercings on the top of her left ear. she generally wears tank tops and ripped jeans or shorts with sneakers. sometimes she wears fishnets, black miniskirts, leather jackets or jean vests with badges.

Hannah- Cis Girl- she/her- Lesbian- can also speak spanish but better than sam (learned from home more)- really chill and helps Sam not be such a dumbass all the time, like no Sam, cutting off your shirt sleeves will NOT impress me for the millionth time!!!- Dating Sam- 

Hannah is Jirou.,.,., maybe with a bit of a Wendy vibe now that I’m thinking about it,.., but mainly Jirou. No wait I just related Sam’s relationship to Carey and Killian from TAZ, Carey is Sam and Killian is Hannah! I love it,,..,.

General appearance description: Hannah is medium complexioned and of average height. she has a wavy long haired purple side shave. Its shaved off on the left side and comes down past her shoulders. she generally wears a black tight sleeveless crop top with a small rainbow with blue, yellow, and red in the middle. She also wears grey jeans with rips at the knees, purple boots or white sneakers with maroon laces, a choker sometimes, and a maroon long sleeve top around her waist that i would draw as flannel if I had the ability to.

Kate- Cis Girl- she/her- Asexual Lesbian- a real sweetheart who lives for the aesthetic side of life, also the only one with natural hair and no undercut (yet...)- Uraraka

General appearance description: Shes light complexioned and is a little taller than average. She has rose gold hair long wavy hair to below her middle chestish. She wears either a blue jean jacket over a pink long sleeve up to her elbows with a long white tutu skirt with a black elastic and white shoes with pink laces, or she wears a yellow t-shirt with a blue cassete tape print on the middle with dark pink jeans and yellow sneakers.

Fitz- Cis Boy- he/him- Bisexual- made of sarcasm and saltiness, lives on coffee, he needs sleep!!- Shinsou

General appearance description: Fitz is light complexioned and the tallest! Hes got a neon yellow undercut of short hair with a floof on the left and giant bags under his eyes. He wears a white collared shirt with an orange fluffy jumper on top with the bottom of his shirt sticking out the bottom. It’s usually paired with some black jeans and yellow sneakers.

Sol- Cis Boy- he/him- Asexual Aromantic- conspiracy theorist. hes really quiet and your like oh wow he must be the mature one of the group and then he hits you with such a dumbass conspiracy theory out of nowhere and your like.. i couldn’t have been more wrong. has a healthy interest in aliens and cryptids- Todoroki

General appearance description: Sol is light complexioned and tall. He has a white sideshave with black shaved sides, it has a floof on the right. Its shaved on the back and sides. He wears black jeans with red sneakers and a white sweatshirt with blue arms and a blue and white stripped collar. I kinda wanna change his outfit though.

Aza- Gender fluid- pronouns varies frequently, when in doubt they prefer they- Questioning- i dont really know their personality yet jbbjfajbbjfbajf but they’re really nice and kinda bubbly!- Hagakure i guess??

General appearance description: Aza is medium complexioned and average height. They have a green undercut its shaved on the left side and its goes over their face on the right side a bit. They wear very baggy ponchos in lotsa colors with black leggings.

Coral- Demigirl- she/her- Lesbian- shes always really excited! whats she excited about! not sure!! but she sure is excited!!! a bit childish. likes stuff toys cause they’re cute!!! you wouldn’t hate a stuff dog would you!!- Ashido

General appearance description: Coral is medium complexioned and short. She has a pink undercut with all the floof leaning on the left, its shaved on both sides and the back. She usually wears shirt with a round collar with a light yellow thin sweater on top of it. And she also wears light blue jeans and pink sneakers.

Ones im still designing

Oliver- Trans Boy- Pansexual- goofy prankster! best bros with vasu- spiky hair but i dont know what colour yet- Kaminari

Vasu- Cis Boy- Gay- Indian - solution to any life question, Duct tape. oliver and him are best bros- undercut black or maybe dark blue hair- Sero

Corey- Trans Boy- Questioning- glasses maybe?- such a normal friendly dude it reaches weird levels, like come on dude! so NORMAL!!!- curly hair of some colour with maybe an undercut- Ojiro

that girl with the dreads- (shes really smart!) and that girl with the afro- (shes really sweet and bubbly)! also the kiddo with the red afro undercut hair!!  im working on those in the background sorta! also somebody with red tinted glasses! and a girl with a ponytail and dark skin! 

I’ve related all my characters to a my hero academia character for their personality type cause i have trouble with personality interactions- feel free to ignore it

[lucifer-lacroix]

Strawberry Chapter 5 (edited)

It's 1898 and Arthur decides to leave the gang for a bit to go on a hunting trip. He stops by the village of Strawberry and meets a caravan of wealthy ladies. The famed Rosalyn Bush is in town, and he starts planning a heist on his own but discovers Isabella Morningstar. His former girlfriend and famed bounty hunter "The Devil in Red." is protecting them.

It didn't feel like morning, with the wind howling outside as rain pounded against the glass. There was little light in the room as the fire had gone out and the lamp on bedside table had run out of oil. Arthur Morgan found himself face down in a mass of soft pillows and sheets which tangled his naked body up. The cotton sheets soft against his skin at the smell of lavender perfume filled his nose. He reached around the bed hoping to grab hold of the woman he went to bed with, but no one was there. That was when the pound of a headache forced him awake, and he groaned lost for a moment in pain. Arthur peeled his face off the sweet-scented pillow and spotted a glass of water. He reached for it after sliding himself across the bed and untangling himself from the comforter. He sat on the edge of the while he chugged down the water. "How much did I drink last night?" He asked himself as he pursed his lips. His mouth tasted like an ashtray, and the water did little to wash away the dryness in his throat. He was replaying the previous night in his head needing a minute to remember how he ended up in this room.

"Poker game, cigarettes outside, Rosalyn's room... Strawberry jam."  No one was inside the room but him, the bed was empty, and his clothes gone. Through the arrangements of techniflavoured jams on the counter were still there except the jar of Strawberry which was split on the ground next to the bed with handprints across the base of the bed. "I remember now," Scanning empty room he searched for where he had left his clothes and was sure he dropped his pants at the foot of the bed, but they were nowhere in sight. His gun was still on the stool where he left it, but his shirt, pants, vest and undergarments were gone. "Izzy." He said with a snarl as he put his boots on and grabbed his gun belt. He looked around the room and spotted a black silk housecoat with purple trim. It didn't look like any regular house coat since it had orange dragon embroidered in it and long cuffed sleeves. It must have been some Asian garb, but it was the only thing in the room that would fit his shoulders.  With a long heavy sigh, he put it on and covered up before leaving the room. Storming down the hallway in search of the devil who stole his clothes. As he crossed the hall to the stairs he passed so many people, the storm had locked everyone in, and now he had to walk across the hotel dressed as a woman to an audience. Gasps followed snickers and giggles as not everyone found his display amusing but rather audacious. Holding the opening of the housecoat closed he kept his hand on the grip of his gun as he headed to the yellow lounge. Once he passed through the curtains, he noticed the tables filled with the same gaggle of ladies from the night before but this time had company. They all stopped and stared at him, some in snickers some full belly laughing, but he did not care. His eyes immediately feel on The Devil. "Izzy," Arthur scowled angrily as everyone's eyes quickly darting to the back of the room where Isabella sat to breakfast with Rosalyn who had her back turned. Isabella had a big old smirk on her face as she watched Arthur come into the room. Sat next to her on the table was a well-folded stack of clothes inside a potato sack. Izzy stared at Arthur with a victorious grin on her face as Rosalyn turned to see what she was smirking about to spit out her coffee immediately. The blonde gasping for breath once she looked at him. "Why are you wearing my Kimono Mr Callaghan?" Rosalyn asked shocked and one of the only people not amused by the situation. "Izzy... my things." Arthur cleared his throat and spoke darkly not amused in the slightest. "I don't know what you're talking about I've been on guard all right. I did find this outside are they yours?" Isabella said and opened the bag revealing his clothes folded and neatly for him. Arthur's eyes narrowed as Rosalyn got up and walked over to him grabbing the stack of clothes and shoving them into Arthur's hands. "Do you know how expensive that is, take it off immediately." She said bitterly to Arthur in a hushed tone to not embarrass him further before turning back to give Izzy an icy glare.   "You happy now?" Arthur asked Izzy as the pair of them scolded her with their eyes. "Delighted... you know you have something in your hair right?" Izzy said pointing to a glob of Strawberry jam caked on the side of his head. "Oh, you tried my jams? Which one was your favourite?" Rosalyn asked as her tone flipped and Arthur just marched away with no response. Arthur stormed back to his room where he fished the key out of his pants, crossing the same crowds of people who wanted to comment but he responded this time. 

"Take a damn picture it will last longer. Now get outta my way!" He spoke loud and bitterly, instilling fear with his march despite his outrageous attire and the crowds stepped out of his way. Once he slammed the door behind him to his room, he wanted to rip the Kimono off but spotted himself in the full-length mirror seeing his reflection. He looked himself up and down and just started laughing. He looked ridiculous, but he had worn outfits worst then this. Arthur's muscular frame filled out the Kimono rather nicely as it draped over his skin delicately. He could tell how expensive it was as he brushed his fingers over the sleeves touching the silk fibres and the small beads sewn into the dragons shaping its scales.  For a tiny moment, Arthur wanted to keep it. 

"No, I will never live it down if Hosea or Dutch saw me in this." He chuckled to himself and delicately took it off. Rosalyn was the only one who sympathised with him, and as she said before, it was best not to force bad luck on those who do nice things. He folded it up to bring it back to her checking to make sure he didn't get anything on it. He got dressed in his clothes and put on his last clean shirt which was a red and brown checkered casual button up. He also scrubbed the jam from his hair using the grooming station water bowl and towel, finally packing his things to leave once he pulled himself back together. "Time to get outta here." He said and searched through his satchel to grab something to eat. Instead, he noticed something else was missing, and he feverishly searched the bag unable to find it.  

Since Arthur had left to change Rosalyn returned to the table where Isabella sat rather proud with herself. The glaring blonde down at the smug red-head with arms crossed and furrowed brows. "What?" Izzy asked. "What are you doing to that man? First, you sleep with him then embarrass him in front of the whole town on top of making it look like he slept with me? Hence embarrassing me at the same time and you have a smirk on your face?" Rosalyn asked. "Hey, that's not what I was." Izzy started, but Rosalyn put her finger up to silence her, and she did. "That's what you did. Your intentions don't matter; it's your actions that speak. You think poking bears in fun?" Rosalyn in front of everyone started to scold her. "Rosie come on." "Don't Rosie me! I'm not going to sit here and let you act like a careless bitter loser who resorts to childish antics instead of acting like an adult. Do you want to come with me to the frontier? Then you will apologise to Mr Callaghan and return everything you took from him. " "Apologize! To him! He should apologise to me! Also, I gave back everything I took." Izzy stood up and threw her chair back "Oh really? Where is his room key?" She asked "In the left pocket where I found them." "So you went looking for them?" "N-No." "What did you do with his keys?" She asked. "Uh..." Izzy went quiet knowing if she kept talking Rosalyn would catch her in a lie. "Give it to me," Rosalyn ordered holding out her hand. When Isabella didn't move, she stomped her foot and shouted. "Now!" "Okay fine!" Izzy said and took out a leatherback journal from her bag and handed it to her. "His diary? that's low." "His journal, whatever. I just wanted to check something." "Sure, Now go find your dog and hunt something for dinner." "It's pouring rain out!" "Take a poncho then," Rosalyn ordered and walked off with the journal headed towards Arthur's room. "Fine! I'll go, I was gonna go anyways." Izzy said and groaned storming out with her bag.

Rosalyn got a few steps out of the room and slowed down a bit, tapping the binding of the journal in hand. Looking around she whistled innocently to herself and checked to see who was around while stepping into an empty lounge. Once Rosalyn was alone opened the book to a random page. Glancing over it she saw a drawing of a racoon sitting on a stump roughly sketched like it was in the middle of grooming. Another sketch was on the page as well of a small songbird and a deer lying in the grass. She scanned each drawing carefully before flipping the page. This sketch was of a giant bison in the snowy hills that took up two pages in the book. "Whoa." She whispered turning the book to get a better view of the well-drawn picture. She flipped it again this time more towards the latest entries skipping the text until she saw the sketch of the gate to Strawberry. "This is what you find worthy of a page?" She asked wondering why he would sketch such mundane items — flipping the page again where she saw the portrait of herself in the book. Rosalyn rested her hand on her heart and was taken back by how accurately he captured her likeness in such a rough sketch. Though next to it was a better-drawn picture of Izzy, and she scowled a little bit. "Lady Rosalyn?" A voice called to her, and she folded up the journal and tucked it under her arm in panic. "I'm in here." SHe responded and stood up to turn and see Arthur of all people headed her way. Fully dressed this time with all his belongings in tow. "Mr Callaghan!" She said caught red-handed. "Have you seen Izzy? I believe she still has something of mine." He said as he handed back the folded Kimono to her. "Oh? What on earth did she take." Rosalyn asked as she clutched the journal behind her back. "Something I can't leave without, can you point me in her direction please?" Arthur asked skipping details. Rosalyn finding herself in a precarious position. She hesitated, knowing that if she gave it back, Arthur would surely brave the storm and leave after everything that happened. "I told her to go hunting," Rosalyn said briefly. "Shit, I better get to her before she leaves," Arthur said and spun on his heels and took off without hesitation towards the stable. "Wait!" Rosalyn said quietly after him and stood dumbfounded he just took off in the middle of a conversation. Once she regained her senses, she ran after him, but he was already out the door. "Oh, That rude son of a! Ugh I shouldn't have done that. No, it's fine they will just run into each other at the stable. He'll come back" Rosalyn said Arthur stopping on the patio watching him walk.  He calmly headed for the stable as Rosalyn looked to the kimono in her hands. "I should put this away." Rosalyn ran upstairs and into her room and quickly drop off the Kimono and get dressed in something cute. "He likes cowgirls fine. I got pants here." She pursed her lips and shuffled through the mess of clothes on the floor. Rosalyn emerged from the mess wearing dark riding pants, a dark blue blouse and Chocolate brown leather jacket. Her riding gloves in hand and rifle strung over her shoulder. "See I'm tough! I'll go after them. I know how to scavenge berries and ride a horse." She talked herself up in the mirror and grabbed her riding bag and stuffed the Journal into it as well as the stable chip for Princess. "I rode her yesterday." Rosalyn triumphantly walked down the stairs and headed out in the rain. "Ms Bush! Where are you going? It's going to thunder again; you should stay inside." William ran up to her wearing his casual shirt wet all over from cleaning the floor. "Oh, I know! I need to go pick up from berries for my pies. I'll be back in an hour or two. Honey will take care of things while I am gone and I'll be back so we can get cooking as I promised." She said in one breath and pinched his cheek and took off out the door before he could stop her.  Down the muddy road towards the stable as she saw Arthur riding away on Duke. "Fuck!" She cursed and ran towards the stable. As she reached the stable Arthur was out of sight, and she stomped her feet. "Dammit! Quick Give me the horse!" She yelled and shoved the chip onto the stableman's hands who was at the gate about to close it. "Ms Bush! I'm sorry Ms Morningstar already came and took Aristotle out hunting." "Not the Mustang the Arabian!" "Oh! The white one! I dunno miss she's been rather panicked this morning, the storm is scaring her something fierce I would wait till Ms Morningstar comes back with Aristotle." "I can't wait! I need to go now! Just saddle her up I can handle her!" Rosalyn said exasperatedly. "As you say, miss." The stableman took her chip and went off to prepare Princess for her, and she stood there tapping her foot stubbornly. Her thoughts were spinning revolving around Arthur and Izzy in the forest alone. "Whoa! Okay, calm down Rose. It's just a book. He's going to go out there, she's not going to have it, and again I'm going to get her laid. Ugh. He's not even that good looking, and this whole thing is stupid, I'm wet. I'm tired. My room is disgusting, and she's going to pay for it, and now my Kimono from Toyko smells like sex. It wasn't even with me" She sighed heavily and crossed her arms over her chest. Alone in the rain now able to let out her frustrations. "Stupid Arthur and his stupid leather sketchbook. See. It's just childish doodles." She ripped it out of the bag and started angrily flipping through it. "Just a bunch of cute little animals what kind of man doodles..." As she was flipping through the pages, she stopped at a ledger marked with a string. She turned it open to the page and glanced it over. There was a list of numerical entries of various dollar amounts in a column, next to it a sketch of a city layout and an x circled by a red dot. A treasure map next to a ledger recording all the savings held by a gang in Blackwater. Dutch Van Der Linde's name among the list. "Uh oh." She said nervously closing the book slowly as the colour from her face disappeared leaving her white as a ghost. "Miss. The horse is ready for you now." The stableman called out to her as she waved to him nervously as he leads the horse to her. Princess who was dragging her hooves in the dirt complained loudly as the two strangers handled her. Rosalyn made a squeak like sound while staring at the horse who seemed a lot bigger than the last time she rode her.  With a deep breath, she shoved the journal into her bag and took the reigns he handed to her. "Alright girl calm down! We have to go!" Rosalyn said holding onto her dominant voice picturing the red-heads face in the eyes of the horse. "You are going to listen to me okay! We gotta get out there fast and come back in once piece alright!" Attempting to bargain with the horse who looked her over and calmed a little bit. "Hey, it worked." She said when Princess shoved her back with her nose and tried to bite the lead and rip it out of her grip. "No!!" Rosalyn shouted holding the reigns tightly and tangled it around her wrist so the horse couldn't pull it from her grip. "Okay! No more Ms nice lady." Rosalyn huffed and yanked the reign down making princess's head bow down. Rosalyn then grabbed the horn of the saddle and climbed up onto Princess despite her jaunting as the stableman assisted in keeping her still. "Are you sure about this!?" He asked when the horse reared a bit. "Okay. Off we go." Rosalyn tapped Princess's sides with her heels and clicked her tongue as the horse immediately set into a fast trot instead of a walk and took off down the road going the wrong way. "Whoa! Whoa, Princess!! Slow down!" Rosalyn panicked horse stomped through the puddles, and she held on desperately. The horse was leading her as people watched he ride in circles, hoping to see her thrown.  Once Princess got her burst of energy out Rosalyn took control and turned her around to go down the road after Arthur. "I got this!" She cheered to herself as they flew down the trail out of control.

Arthur and the Duke were trotting at a quick pace following a trail in the mud left behind by a heavy horse. The rain had cleared the path of all the other travellers, and the single set of hoof prints lead him deeper into the forest headed into a groove. They rode slowly as The Duke manoeuvred around the tightly packed trees with ease. "Well Duke, if she went hunting this would be a good spot to go. " Arthur said out loud stopping the mule as the tracks merged with a second. He dismounted from his Mule to get a better look at the prints. "You think she took it on purpose to lead me out here Duke?" He asked the creature after he fed him common bulrush plant which he lazily chewed. "Yeah sounds rather stupid, why would she embarrass me like that if she just wanted to shoot me? Does she want to steal her money back from us you think?" He asked Duke out loud who kept munching nonchalantly.   "Yeah, she should have just taken the map, not the whole journal, of course, I would notice it gone." He knelt next to a set of paw prints next to the hoof prints. "This must be her... big dog," he said and put his hand next to the paw print which was filling up with water and the size of his palm. He stood back up and grabbed the lead of his mule and walked alongside them to follow the path keeping quiet as they travelled into the forest. "I'm going to need your help to get the jump on her." He rubbed Duke's neck as they climbed over the roots of a large oak tree.

Deep within the trees, the rain was light since the leaves above sheltered the forest floor. On such a stormy day many creatures stayed within their shelters but not everyone. A wild boar was roaming about looking for truffles, his loud snorts pinpointing his location. The beast had stumbled upon a groove of mushrooms and was feasting on his own until a loud crack of a rifle echoed in the trees. The birds flew away, and a deer went scampering off, but the wild boar fell dead on the ground with a mouthful of half-eaten fungi. Izzy who was laid out under a shelter of leaves and brush cocked her rifle which smoked from the last shot she fired. A perfect bullseye on the hog's skull. "Piece of cake." She smirked happily. "She can't be mad at me now. Everyone loves bacon. Why is she so fucking mad at me anyway." She asked her rifle before reloading it. As the bullet punched into the chamber, she noticed in the distance a Mule break through the brush on its own. He was saddled and headed straight for the groove of mushrooms where she had just shot the boar. "Who's a fucking mule is that?" She asked herself and put her scope up to her eye to get a closer look. The creature slid down the muddy slope into the grove and happily started eating the patch of half-eaten mushrooms the boar had found. Izzy looked around to see if the owner was close. "Some bastard trying to steal my kill?" She said out loud hesitant about whoever was its rider was. Fifteen minutes went by as Izzy remained still in her hiding place, the Mule just grazing the entire time. The mule had fed over to where the dead hog laid and started to climb on top of it stomping his feet on the pig which was blocking a patch of mushrooms. "Oh shit!" Izzy said and jumped out of her hiding spot and headed down to scare the Mule away before it ruined her kill. "Hey shoo!" She yelled and ran up to the beast before she heard a gun cock to her left. She slid to a stop and cursed under her breath. "Stupid. Okay, you got me." She shook her head and turned to see Arthur Morgan of all people standing on a fallen tree with a Carbine Repeater pointed at her. "I thought you had a sense of humour Arthur." She shouted and raised her hands her rifle still in one of them. "Hilarious as that morning prank was, taking my things is not. I guess that's on me for trusting you." He said and started to approach her. "Haha yeah, that's why I gave em back. I'm not interested in robbing you. That's your thing." Izzy said and lowered her arms but kept her rifle pointed away from Arthur, but did point it at the Mule. She whistled twice and readied her gun at the Duke. "Hm, you think I wouldn't have noticed you pinch my journal." He asked quickly glancing around him wondering where the dog was since it was not with her. "Yeah I thought you would, so I gave it to Rosalyn to give back to you," Izzy said also looking around for her dog as well but raised her gun to the Mule to stop Arthur from approaching her further. "Don't shoot my Mule, and don't lie. Give it back, and we can go our separate ways" Arthur said with narrow eyes. "Excuse me? I think I deserve the right to take away one of your beloved pets. Besides I'm not lying, go talk to Rosalyn she has your Journal." Izzy said before whistling again a little more desperately, this time hearing a twig snap in the distance. "I did, she told me you were out here," Arthur said and fired a warning shot at her which hit the rocks at her feet and made Duke sprint off. Izzy was going to shoot when Arthur cracked a second shot closer to her feet making her jump. "Hand it over!" He ordered when a dog barked to his right. Before he could change targets, a colossal dog leapt out of the bushes and tackled him. Knocking the Repeater from his hands and taking him to the ground. He was expecting to get mauled, but instead, the giant dog started licking him. She had a squished face with floppy ears and a brown and beige coat of fur. The dog was massive and weighed at least 200 lbs currently centred on his chest. "Hey, Bijou, who's a good girl. Arthur this is Bijou." Izzy said and readied her gun at him as Arthur drew his pistol from his belt and was ready to shoot the dog. "Are you sure it's a dog and not a bear?" He asked with his finger on the trigger, but since it wasn't biting him yet lovingly licking him, he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger as she slobbered all over his face. "Bijou, Bijou get off I got it," Izzy said her rifle now pointed at Arthur on the ground.  Arthur grabbed the dog's neck and pointed his pistol at her head. "Fuck off Arthur! Don't you fucking dare!" She said bitterly. "Give me back my journal!" Arthur yelled as the dog started to growl against his grip. "Bijou No calm! I don't have it. Arthur let her go don't scare her!" Izzy tried to stay calm but in the distance, and ear piercing scream broke through the trees. They both stopped recognising the tone of the voice as a female. Bijou was ready to bite Arthur, but at the sound of the scream, he let go and let the dog jump off him. "Rosalyn told you she didn't have it?" Izzy asked her gun still training on him. "She said you went hunting. I... stormed out after that." Arthur said as a second scream was heard this time an English accented voice calling for help. "She didn't come with you did she?"Izzy asked with wide eyes. They both stared at each other for a second. "Shit." They said, and unison as Arthur got up from the ground. Izzy was holstering her rifle on her back heading back for her horse. "How the hell did she get out this far? I have the only riding horse." "I think she took Princess," Arthur said as he whistled for the Duke. "You mean my Arabian?" Izzy said and ran up the hill to a black Mustang horse hitched out of sight from the groove. The muscled horse had a majestic long raven mane and stood proud saddled with a gator skinned set up lined with gator fangs. A turkey already tied off in the saddle off his left flank. "First off, That is a nice horse. Secondly, I thought you didn't want my horse?" Arthur said and saddled up on his Mule waiting for her. "Who would, she's a skittish coward. I went to take her out this morning, and she wouldn't come near me. How could Rosalyn get on her? She's afraid of horses." Izzy climbed up on Aristotle and turned him around towards where they heard shouting. "She didn't mention that yesterday when she was riding her, the road is back that way lets head up by cutting through the trees to see if we can get in front of them before they get lost," Arthur said and scanned the trees. "You know, I wish I never met you," Izzy said sourly ignoring his suggestion and taking off back the way she came. "For Pete's sake, Hold on just one minute. I thought we were getting along just fine last night, what the fuck happened?" He asked. "Now? You want to talk about it now?" Izzy asked. "Yes actually! What the hell is the matter with you? I thought we had sorted things out?" Arthur asked abandoning his plan and following Izzy and Aristotle. The Duke was having a hard time keeping up with the stallion forcing Arthur to shout.

"Becuase we slept together while you were drunk!? HA! Nothing has changed Arthur. You're still an outlaw, a degenerate and a thief!" Izzy shouted back as they dodged around the trees, Aristotle having to go around the obstacles the Duke could squeeze through. "Then why go along? Why lead me on like that? For revenge? To give me a taste of my own medicine?" Arthur demanded, catching up to her. Izzy went quiet as they broke out of the trees and onto the main road. She scanned the ground and noticed a sporadic set of prints charged through not long ago. "Well!?" Arthur finally caught up as the Duke let out a wail having been pushed so hard to follow. "I'm thinking hold on!" Izzy yelled and checked which way the prints headed. Another scream was echoing ahead. "This way!" She called and took off. "Izzy!" Arthur yelled after her and looked to the Duke. "I'm sorry boy. Yaw!" He gave him a hard kick, and the Mule jolted off behind the Mustang. Unable to keep up with Izzy who had launched her stallion into a full gallop after Rosalyn and the runaway Arabian.

[theaspiringwanderess]

Packing For The West Coast Trail; Essentials, Clothing and Food

Return to My WCT Story | Booking: Reservations/Transport | Clothing, Essential Items, Recommended Items, Optional Items, Food

You Don’t Need The Kitchen Sink - Trust Me

Packing is a BIG deal for the WCT. It’s a lot to pack and there’s the pressure of not getting caught without the essential gear while keeping it all at a manageable weight. My first WCT trek I vastly over packed a 53lbs bag! It killed my hike and was hard on my body and most of the extra was food I hated, which was the worst. My second time I managed 38lbs and it went down dramatically as I ate! I packed everything on each list below (minus the book which i forgot and the GPS which I didnt bring) and still kept it at 38lbs including my food. Always opt for the lightest version. Cut size where you can, even the smallest items eventually add up (ex. some people cut off tooth brush handles, I have a rain shell instead of a full jacket, a double foam sleeping mat is much lighter - but bigger- than a blow-up mattress, an ultra light single unit stove, etc)... One spork for all and all for one spork!

Clothing

The proper clothing is a key factor in keeping you dry, warm/cool and happy. It’s important to keep it light weight but you also must be certain it’s functional for your needs. In 2016, my sister brought a rain jacket she tested and thought was waterproof. A full day of beach hiking in pouring rain later, not only did she learn the hard way it was not, but poor girl was cold, soaked and shivering too hard to do anything but shiver. Be 100% sure about your gear. You also want to be selective about fabrics. Avoid cotton, which retains moisture, and feather/down which loses its loft (heat trapping ability) when damp. Merino wool is a great bet to stay warm and dry and is the best option for socks and sweaters. Synthetic, sweat-wicking active wear is light weight and dries quickly for the daily hike. I also prefer my leggings and shorts to have a zip-up pocket or two. 

I pack my clothing in a waterproof stuff-sack, and I put tanks in one small ziplock, underwear and bras in another, and pjs in a third so they stay dry, clean and easy to find. I keep a safeway bag for dirty clothing and my lesser used items at the bottom (towel, bathing suite).

I always pack my sleeping bag in a garbage bag every morning before it goes in my pack. In the event I fall in a creek... or the ocean?... it’ll add a level of extra water-proof protection. I also re-waterproofed my Lowa hiking boots for the first time ever... this is their second visit to the WCT after all. And, as a random side note, don’t plan to wash your clothes on the WCT. I’ve seen so many people make this mistake. Trust me, nothing that gets wet will dry. EVER. If you have a sunny day, air it out, dry it in the sun, pack it up in a ziplock.

It’s important to note everyone has different needs. You might be ok with 2 pairs of hiking socks! Or one pair of leggings... This is just what worked best for me based on the experiences of both my trips. Customize your WCT adventure-wear as you see fit ;)

3 tank tops, active wear / workout (sweat wicking, not cotton!)

2 pairs of leggings, active wear / workout (seat wicking and stretchy for flexibility and comfort with zip pockets)

2 pairs of workout shorts (sweat wicking and stretchy, w/zip pockets)

3 pairs of merino wool hiking socks

1 pair of wooly socks to sleep in (in case you get cold)

2 pairs of sock liners (major blister prevention technique)

PJs: 1 tank top, 1 merino wool sweater, 1 pair merino leggings or light weight sweat pants

1 or 2 long sleeved sweater(s) active wear / sweat wicking (to wear under your rain jacket or as a warming option in morning) *I took one, but in the event you’re sweaty or expect a lot of rain, 2 is advisable.

3 pairs of underwear active wear / workout (or merino wool if you want to splurge) *for women 7 panty liners (1 per day) to extend your underwear life.

1 bathing suite top (use a pair of used shorts for bottoms and you’ll double their use and wash them at the same time!) ... or dudes wear just your shorts of course!

Essential Items

*For your emergency kit it is extremely important to bring allergy and pain meds. Unexpected reactions and injuries happen all the time. On my Murtle Lake canoe trip, my friend had a terrible reaction to the abundance of mosquitos for the first time in her life and I myself, not having allergies, have come away from the WCT with skin infections and allergic reactions. On average 80-100 hikers a year are emergency evacuated from the WCT due to injury or inability to continue.

1 good hiking backpack with hip belt & chest strap & RAIN COVER

1 pair waterproof hiking boots high top - comfortable, already broken in

1 pair hiking gaiters (protect against ticks, bugs, keeps pants, legs and boots dry, shields mud!)

WCT Trail Map, Tide Tables (provided by parks staff)

WCT overnight pass copy (in a ziplock bag somewhere safe)

$160 minimum cash for water taxi, crab shack, chez moniques (in a ziplock bag somewhere safe)

1 pair ultra-light sandals

1 waterproof rain jacket

1 towel (very small, microfibre recommended)

bear spray

single size cooking stove (I love my jetboil flash lite)

cooking stove fuel for 7 days (2 small cans or one large 230 g can)

long handled spork (this titanium one is the shiznit!)

emergency whistle

emergency kit (gauze, medical tape, various sized bandages, disinfecting/antibiotic cream, a few tabs of common medications such as tylonel, asprin, allergy treatments like benedryl or reactin).

2 regular toilet paper rolls with cardboard tube removed (in a ziplock)

Fire Starters:

1 lighter & 1 flint striker (learn how to use it! This is a great video)

Dependable fire starter (2 or 3 tiny balls of dryer lint rolled with a small amount of unscented vaseline inside a ziplock bag work great in wet weather and will burn for 10-15 mins)

sunscreen

2 (1 litre) water bottles OR 1 bottle and a 2 litre camel back water bag

Water purification tabs (my go-to is Pristine brand). Ensure they are the 30 minute variety (not 1-3 hours). Alternatively some people use a UV light but this does require batteries and adds weight

tarp, lightweight

paracord (15 m or 50 ft)

2 carabiners, 1 that can hold 50 lbs, 1 small light (for random things)

1 sleeping bag, synthetic fill (ideally good for +5 celcius)

1 waterproof tent with rainfly (*I have a cheap 2 person waterproof coleman tent with a tarp bottom that I later bought replacement aluminum poles for. The poles made a 5lb tent a 3lb tent - impressive investment. I pack the poles and my friend the tent body = 1.5lb/each)

cell phone (I use my phone camera a lot so I brought 2 backup chargers. Solar charging is not an option given fog)

3 extra large black garbage bags and  

3 large ziplocks (for trash, as an emergency poncho, keep feet dry in wet boots, the uses are endless)

1 pocket knife

1 flashlight

sunglasses

closed cell foam sleeping pad or light weight blow up mattress pad

1 watch, battery or wind-up water proof or at least resistant - digital watches can get damaged when wet or expensive watches ruined)

1 poop trowel.. yes you read that correctly - the plastic kind

1 bug spray (there weren’t many bugs, lots of wind though!)

2 travel sized hand sanitizers (for covid & as well after nature’s call)

1 emergency blanket

1 small soap or body wash (environmentally friendly brand)

1 travel toothpaste & toothbrush [small]

gloves (fingerless mesh back type for weight lifting is best)

neck gaiter (*instead of a hat - can double as a hat)

Other Recommended Items

unscented lip balm... you don’t want to smell like a walking buffet

1 light weight sleeping bag liner to keep sand and dirt out (I prefer silk)

ball cap or foam visor *non-water absorbing (this can be worn on a sunny day or under a rain hood to keep rain off your face).

1 emergency plastic poncho

1-2 hair ties (it gets wet and windy and they double as pack ties!)

sweat band

baby wipes (good for cleaning your face, or dishes...)

a small book or time passer (don’t bring a giant novel)

Items I’d Consider Optional

rain pants (*optional as long as you have a long waterproof rain jacket. gaiters provide extra leg protection or if its warm don shorts! skin dries)

small camera with good battery life (not necessary if you use your phone)

pen and paper for notes or emergencies

small GPS or Spot satellite device

1 waterproof phone case (if you bring a phone)

1 extra light pillow (optional - i had one this time but usually use my sweater)

Food Recommendations

On the WCT you are expending roughly 3000-4000+ calories per day. That’s more than double the average 120lb marathon runner going hard for 2 hours if they ran 12 miles. You are Climbing, Hauling, Pushing, and your feet are operating at the agility level of “expert cat on steroids”. So, essentially you NEED the calories. But packing the right amount (and weight) of food is challenging. I’m happy to report this time I ate it all by the end so it was the perfect amount. If you find you are running low or forgot something, you might be able to grab it from the Nitinaht crab shack and likewise if you over pack you can leave extra food there for someone else. But please, do NOT leave garbage.

**Note, I must, must stress - DO NOT leave garbage on the trail. There is no garbage removal service. Parks staff do not remove it and with covid there are fewer staff in general. Garbage is a major bear attractant and you put others at risk leaving it behind. 2021 is a year with only Canadians allowed on the WCT and the amount of garbage was appalling.

The WCT, and island in general, is VERY humid. It’s best to bring items in individual packages, otherwise things clump or mush. On our first trip, my sister brought important medications that melted and became extremely difficult to take. My advice is to pack any daily meds you must bring in the plastic containers with individual days. This way if something similar happens to you, you can still be safe knowing the amount taken.

Additionally, I work with a very simple but effective system of ziplock bags. This keeps everything fresh, organized, and easy to find as you go. I have one large ziplock for breakfasts, one for lunch & snacks, and one for dinner. As I finish breakfast I move it to the bottom of my bear bag and put lunch/snacks on top for easy access and so on - Ta-da!

I consider lunch and snacks the same thing as we never stopped for a cooked meal mid-day. In 2016 my sister talked me into doing dried lentil dinners and it was the WORST (... for me, she loved it!). It made it hard for me to want to eat, which was a big set back. I have this vivid memory burned into my brain from our first trip of an adorable father - daughter duo whom we criss-crossed a lot. One rainy day he had her tucked up under a tree eating the most delicious looking meat and cheese sandwich and my instant thought was ‘awww, so cute... I’d kill you for that sandwich though...”. Who knew a sandwich could insight such murderous intent?!

My lesson learned was when it comes to physically demanding, multi-day hikes, pack healthy but also things you enjoy eating. I strive for light weight first and foremost. I love fruit but it doesn’t pack well, so items like fruit leathers work well. Real, individually wrapped, cheese sticks are a great too; by day 5 they get soft or oily, but they never go bad (harder cheeses like cheddar are naturally preserved), so I stick to 4 or 5 day cheese supplies. My ultra-favourite hiking snack - individual wrapped rice crispy squares! I pack 2 per day... and a couple extra for desserts! I never packed enough of each junk food to have one for every day, instead with treats I generally aimed to have 4-5 of each and mix it up. In between hikes, I also spend some time picking up and trying different types of nuts. Don’t get me wrong, peanuts are good, but after 4 days they get pretty boring. I often pop into a Winners or Home Sense store and look for enticing types of nut mixes and I’ll keep them in my car to snack on and decide if its a keeper.

Im also very careful about toothbrushing too because prolonged periods of hiking without proper dental care wrecks havoc on your teeth.

Ok! Down to the nitty-gritty! My dinner ziplock has 1 dinner for each night and sometimes a hot (dehydrated) dessert. And I have a small ziplock for items like my toothbrush, toothpaste, body wash slips, and anything else that might need to go in the bear bag. Again, I’ll preface this by saying its important to note everyone’s needs are unique and based on the experiences of both my trips, this is the food I packed.

Breakfast Ziplock

7-8 easy breakfasts (i pack 1 peaches & cream oatmeal for each morning and an extra in case we missed the bus).

coffee - starbucks via’s have been my favs! but nescafe also makes individual coffees and a fab toffee nut cappuccino option!

sugar and powdered creamer (individual pkgs) & tea in a smaller ziplock

a smaller ziplock for toothbrush/paste, body wash etc

Lunch / Snacks Ziplock

bag of beef jerky

individual (real) cheese sticks (usually cheddar, or a hard variety works best, soft cheese goes bad faster)

a few bags of different varieties of nuts (*lemon sea salt almonds, tamari nut mix, cilantro lime cashews, Dare brand Vietnamese coffee flavoured macadamia nuts)

2 bags snack sized hawkins cheezies

5 individually pkgd M&M’s chocolate & oatmeal cookies (*the M&M cookies were crumbly, the oatmeal squished but stuck together!)

16 Rice crispy squares - my ultra-fav hiking snack, individually wrapped (2 per day + couple extras)

4 fruit leather bars in a smaller ziplock

4 snack sized oh-henrys in a smaller ziplock

2 bags Stinger caffeine gummies & 2 capsules Nuune electrolyte/caffeine tabs in a smaller ziplock

Dinner Ziplock

1 dinner for each night and sometimes a hot (dehydrated) dessert

Presidents Choice brand (bagged) vegetarian chili *this was a new try for me, normally I advocate for dry only food because wet is messy, can leak, is heavy and can go bad fast. BUT! I ate this the first night on the trail so it was gone quickly, and it stood up to the abuse and was only $3!

AlpineAire potato cheddar soup (dehydrated) is my fav dinner. fast, hot, make in the bag, and tasty!

2 Stove Top brand stuffing; cut a small hole, let out the air, retape. write water and instructions on the bag. Throw away the box. (*mix with 1 pkg gravy)

1 Instant mashed potatoes; cut a small hole, let out the air, retape. write water and instructions on the bag. Throw away the box. (*mix with 1 pkg gravy) - FYI this is a BIG meal, make only what you can eat or bring a smaller amount if you cant eat the whole thing.

3 pkgs reduced salt gravy mix

1 Nomad Nutrition vegetarian shepards pie dehydrated meal.

1 dehydrated dessert hot option (maple rice pudding this time!)

Return to My WCT Story | Booking: Reservations/Transport |

[petalurn]

( scenario : five times hayeon was accidentally affectionate to jae and one time she just accidentally blatantly acknowledged that she knew what she was doing )

( “accidentally affectionate” 5+1 with jaeyeon! @lesivres )

recently, jae’s been having a hard time. hard in the sense that, she’s going to ban hayeon from the tavern. seriously, find a demon-warding charm to get her out and gone during business hours. during all hours.

she’s bad for business.

+1winter sucks. in the sense that, warm-blooded as they are, everyone is up early to get their coffee, their morning fix so they can do their work and turn in early. that also means jae has to be up early to serve early, but stay open because once she’s open she can’t close ( well she can but business ).

it’s the ass crack of day. she hasn’t bothered for proper attire just yet, but she’s layered enough that no one will really care what she’s in. even if it’s tights over tights, boots and a long fluffy poncho. she doesn’t care she’s going to stay warm and comfortable until it’s actual diner hours.

this isn’t even a diner what the fuck.

anyway, she’s pouring her next cup, pouring and pouring and yawning. yawning that she almost spills it over. she does though, let her elbow bore into the counter, chin nuzzled against her palm. she’s tired, and she’s not cute tired and she hates it. the customers laugh at it, a gentle laugh that she can’t even give  a dirty finger to. she stills gives it.

“don’t say anything if you want this next pot free of wood shavings.” so they don’t laugh and she smiles. maybe it’s because she’s won a small victory or because of the scent that fills her nose as the door opens. hayeon’s been up early, won’t say anything about it but grumbles about jae’s scent being too overwhelming sometimes. whatever. she’s awake and jae’s holding up the pot with a grin.

“coff—-” words get stuck in her throat, stuck because well, hayeon walks in and walks straight to her side, head falling in jae’s shoulder. a small silence settles over the tavern, mainly because a sleep deprived hayeon is not a hayeon anyone wants to deal with. but jae smiles, softly, ignoring the small fire under her skin at lips pressed against her shoulder. “you’re a big baby.”

“coffee.”“i am not putting a drop of anything in it.”“you’re a menace.”

oddly enough, jae could say the same. instead she detaches herself, watches hayeon slip into a stool, ignoring everyone’s stare and focus on the coffee pot. ah, so it’d been the coffee. jae smiles and pours the fresh one instead.

must be the morning.

+2winter is here. wood wood and more wood and jae is tired. if she wasn’t tired earlier, she’s tired now. tired of all the chopping, the carrying, the shedding. tired of getting pine shoved up her nose.

the kids think it’s fun so she indulges them, watches them run around with logs. watches close until her head lolls against a tree. the town likes to come together to grab firewood, they’re small so they know everyone needs to stock up for when it’s too cold to do it.

jae, never one to ask for help, curses her tavern for needing so much damn firewood. sure they have electricity but she still likes the fire. it helps the kids at night and it helps her as well. reminds her of old days. so she gathers.

gathers and groans with every log thrown into her arms. she’s bundled up well enough but that doesn’t lessen the load. and the kids, they love to mess with her, she’s the only one who allows it. her fault. but they pack on and jae tries to make it to the tavern as quick as possible before they can pile it on even more.

“noona slow down we have more.”“stay back demons, my arms will fall off.” she can handle it though, might be a little sore but she can handle it. that’s what she says as she passes hayeon for the fourth time, dumping the wood by the fireplace and dusting her hands off. the tavern is low so she can run in and out. in addition to her own set she’s been helping some friends gather. “noona hurry up! changjo’s about to level a tree!” she’s ready to run out with them when she sees hayeon beckoning her over.

“what’s up what’s up, decided to help the cavalry?” she doesn’t flinch much when hayeon’s hands reach her coat, doesn’t move when the arms slide down. there’s a squeeze on her shoulder and jae’s hissing. the squeeze becomes gentler and hayeon sighs, eyes not leaving the spot.“nope, no more lifting she-hulk.” jae tries to pout at that, tries to squirm even but hayeon squeezes again and all she does is yelp. yelp and wrinkle her nose in annoyance. because really, they’re in the middle of the tavern.“you’re a party pooper.”“you’re gonna get tendinitis.” “doesn’t make my statement false.” hayeon levels her, before patting the stool in front of her.“okay fine.” jae hops up, slightly confused but letting hayeon do what she must, if that includes hands on her skin, a little cold, unsurprisingly gentle. low as the tavern is on customers, she notices the hush. maybe she’s too comforted, by the feeling of a dull ache leaving her shoulders, and a pleasant scent warming her body. hayeon’s hands are quick but they get the job done. “alright go, big baby.” she’s back to her folder, sketches and paperwork. jae’s out the door with her arm around changjo, excited to see his tree.

+3catches, catches especially winter catches? winter catches were great. they had a guy who came around late in the week, with huge catches to share with everyone. sometimes frozen and sometimes fresh. listen, forced humanity aside, some things are too good to pass up.

giant turkey legs are one of them. and jae had to fight, fight to get her fair share of them until she realized those were to sell before they were to devour. she’s been working hard today, so hard that she doesn’t pay attention to much, like the rumble of her own stomach. smoked meat fills her nostrils, makes her mouth water each time she runs back and forth, to grill, stock, serve. some of them like to stock up their bellies before winter really hits, some of them prefer to just fill their fridge. jae often fills her fridge. she’s open during the time anyway.

everyone’s been joyous, welcoming the food and the smells of roasted anything, smoked anything. barbecue smells, chicken, turkey, pork. jae could cry. but, she’s got a job to do, a place to run. she lets their guy do his rounds through town, smiles as she sees the younger boys running with turkey legs and she sneaks one for the smaller of them. gives a thumbs up to the little girl who snags it from him.

catches are always a good day. yeah they can buy them in town, further into the city but, it’s the tradition of it. the joke of it.

so she moves quick, tuning into impatience and needs quickly. maybe she should be more in tune to herself. maybe. but she’s giddy, the smell keeping her going, nagging at her stomach as well. she doesn’t pay attention to her own stomach rumble as her feet scramble across the floor.

she does, pay attention when hayeon comes in, a turkey leg in her hand. jae cants her head towards the open stool, a platter in her hand. she’s on her way back, calls coming from every direction for her, when hayeon’s hand grabs her. there’s a slight squeak, more so for the turkey leg that’s placed in front of her lips. hayeon holds her hands out for the platter - well takes it and gives her the turkey leg. jae eats and eats and finishes it faster than intended. gives hayeon a kiss on the cheek that definitely is intended and runs off with the platter before she can say anything.

and anyone who watched the exchange, doesn’t say anything.

+4jae complains about the winter a lot, but she likes it. likes the snow and the footprints it leaves. likes the bristles against skin and fur alike. likes the icy burn of it all. and she says it all the time, how she loves it, is out there all the time. when she gets free time from the tavern, standing outside and letting snowflakes fall on her nose. it never lands right, never lands how she wants it to but it lands.

just as snowballs land across her jacket. as she runs back and forth with the kids in the town. lets them get scores before she’s after them, knocking them in the face with her own snowballs. laughing and ignoring the frost on her nose. she’ll handle it later, right now it’s war.

and it’s good. good for as long as her body heat can keep it. and she keeps it pretty long. running through the small patches of snow they get, rolling around with the smaller ones on her, hanging off her sides. with snow hitting her cheeks and her jacket. because yes she remembered to bring it and not run out here in her tavern clothes. hayeon would kill her.

speaking of hayeon, jae hasn’t seen her. the thought gets cut off by a snowball to the head and she’s running for the culprit. running and playing until her fingers get stiff and she has to rush in the tavern with the rest of them.

she’s chattering, teeth clattering and body jittery. it’s not bad but it’s not pleasant, it’ll probably go away soon, she knows that. but for the moment it settles. and she’s by hayeon’s side in an instant, flake of snow dripping off her coat. she’s up against hayeon’s side, rubbing annoyingly close with her ice-stained jacket.

“you missed out on the fun.” it’s with a snort that jae blows a snowflake from her nose.“yeah hayeon noona we beat jae in a snowball fight!”“a liar and a cheater I raised you right.”

hayeon’s quiet, but doesn’t move from jae’s incessant movement. when jae does feel her move, she turns to face her, cheeks probably turning rosy from the warmth burning past ice. her hood is being lowered and hands are touching her ears. it’s sudden and catches jae off-guard, traps words in her throat. hayeon’s fingers move quick, rubbing the icy feeling away, running jae’s ears back and forth between her thumb and index. it’s melting everything around jae in a matter of seconds. it moves down to her cheeks, jawline before the natural color comes back. darker, rosier, but back. all traces of snow gone. hands then gone and heart stuttering against her chest.

it’s only a call by the fireplace that snaps her out of it.

+5winter days are long days. naturally so. she wakes up early, works long even when she’s not in the tavern and stays open a little late from passing travelers. sometimes she even turns into a place to sleep, sometimes. jae doesn’t mind. the fatigue never really hits her. she loves her bed she does but sometimes she doesn’t miss it like she should. doesn’t think about it when she’s thinking about all winter has to offer.

new people, possible rogues, strangers, smells smells and smells that cloud the tavern. usually it’s easy to handle but she’s sleepy and she knows. knows it gets overwhelming when one of her smiles has too much teeth, when the moon’s been up and the wrong company stays up.

it’s not serious, never that serious because winter’s a mellow one. so jae remains mellow. when she moves back to the counter, falls against it after setting down the empty kegs. arm splayed out and chin resting on it. winter days will always be long and winter will always be long. long but welcomed, no matter what it brings.

ice can prickle in her skin but she can overcome it. she can. she breathes in once, twice, gets her composure. she thinks it’s her own doing, but feels hands in her hair.

“hmmm, what is with you and my ear?” the hand doesn’t stop though, and jae doesn’t move much. lets the smell settle over her again. old oak, vodka and spice. hayeon and all she is. she welcomes it and sinks into her position.“you’re not complaining.” jae can manages a shrug.“i’m not complaining.” she feels light, the words come out drawled. maybe it’s the sleep, maybe it’s the haze. all of it together. she feels irritation slip away, icy prickles settling into warm spots, dancing around her head, across her forehead, over her lips.“gonna close up soon?” maybe it’s not a question, and maybe jae had no plans of closing soon but for the life of her all she says is,“yeah.” and she finds nothing wrong with it. nothing wrong with locking eyes with someone across the tavern and watching their face turn red as they look away.

nothing wrong.

+0it’s morning again. jae doesn’t know what to expect really. just knows she can’t take anymore days like this, like yesterday, like the past couple days. she’s in a strange limbo of fighting it or welcoming it and not really knowing what the hell she’s welcoming. she takes it all yeah, hell yeah but she’s not sure what it could be. but it’s another thing when she gets these weird knowing smiles from everyone around town because - what can they know when she doesn’t even know? nothing. that’s what.

but she’s up early, groggy as she pads out the back and enters the tavern. she’s opening a little later today. mainly because everyone is full and asleep. which is what she should be but she’s awake, awake and pouring hot cocoa into her mug.

“I love winter.” she even speaks a little groggy, low and into the mug. she tries to stay satisfied with the warmth of the cocoa as it slides through. tries to focus on the feeling of the mug against her hands, that warmth. tries to remember and repeat it throughout. “i love the snow.” the snow light kisses. “and the snowball fights, i love the weird taste of it.” the easy feeling of her. “i love the catches and i love food and the smell of it all in the tavern.” of old oak, vodka and spice. jae’s still speaking, moving from behind the counter to lean against it.

“mhmm, c’mere.” and jae does, walking to hayeon’s side and settling in the embrace she gets, in the lips by her neck. in warmth washing over, overwhelming. sighs and not-so-secret smiles.“someone’s touchy.”“mhmm.” all she gets is a small nip, has jae jumping but keeping herself firm in hayeon’s hold. a hold she rarely gets to relax in. not like this anyway.“i’ve been getting looks all week like i’m the one who can’t keep my hands to myself when it’s you.”“mhmm.”“you, you it’s all you.”“mmmm.” it’s mumbled against, vibrating against skin and jae almost jumps, squirms away from the feeling and the fire it ignites. she doesn’t get far because hayeon holds her hips, but stops the movement to speak clearer. “winter air’s clear. you smell good.” and now, jae’s grateful for the position, back against hayeon’s chest, red on her face hidden. grateful that the tavern isn’t open yet. because hayeon’s hands are still moving up - when did they even get under and she’s squirming and quite offended at how sneaky it’d happened. it’s the fucking old oak and vodka. it’s always that.

but she’s not bothered. “so you admit it?” jae’s proud of herself for getting this far, still speaking with lips ghosting over her shoulder. still a little firm when they rest of her feels like jelly. feels sunken in.“admit to what?”“driving me up the damn wall.”“god i’m sorry displays of affection are such a turn on for you jae.”“shut up, oh my god.” jae turns around at that, rejuvenated in how scandalized she feels. ready to stand her ground at any given moment. but hayeon’s staring, eyes looking hooded, thoroughly calm. her fingers still hook in jae’s shirt. eyes on jae’s lips and a hand running through her own hair before she locks eyes with jae. finally.“alright i admit it.”“good.“good, so you’re opening late today.”“i hate you oh my god.” but she’s got a hold on hayeon’s hand, another mug in her hand and her feet padding towards the back room.

yeah, she’s going to ban hayeon from the tavern. it’s bad for business.

[letterstoocean]

my ocean, 

more of the story, 

They were sitting on the floor with a blank canvas in front of them.  

On one side of the canvas was a bottle of blue ink and a new bamboo brush.

On the other side, a bottle of red ink with its own brush.

The scene waited for them.

He sat behind her with his arms and legs wrapped around her with his head resting on her left shoulder, occasionally kissing her neck whenever the moment caught him.

With each kiss she would sigh and lean back into him until eventually he had all of her weight on him and it felt like she was weightless.  

Like she was flying.

He felt so alive as he was wrapped around her that she actually felt safe.

“Safe.” she sighed and rubbed her nose against his cheek as he kissed her again.

He whispered, “ready?”

She said nothing. But turned and looked at him.

Safe.

Enjoying the flight, he kissed her lips.

When the heat began to rise in her she sat up, grabbed the brush and red ink and wrote:

You might have to teach me how to love again.

You might have to show me how….

She set the brush down, she leaned back into him and he wrapped arms and legs around her again and waited for his words.

Safe......

A thousand breaths, heartbeats and kisses later, he grabbed the brush, black ink and wrote:

I will touch your tender heart with patient, distant fingertips until you are ready for more...

He sat in front of her and she wrapped her legs and arms around him, squeezed tight and rested her head on his right shoulder.

She stared at the canvass as she felt his heartbeat underneath her hands.  

The sweat that began to trickle down his back, his patience,  the  simple fact that  she was holding him and he was leaning back into her like it was meant to be, like it fit.....

The release inside of her was sudden, instant and overwhelming and caught her by surprised.

The feeling welcomed, she squeezed him tighter and stared at the canvas.

“I can't, yet.” she said, “you.”

He leaned back, kissed her on the head and crawled to the canvas, her hands running over his back causing goose bumps on her skin.

She shivers and sighs..

Safe.

He grabbed the red ink and brush:

Seeing, feeling and hearing the unattainable woman inside of you is what calls me.

The woman that never exists because she is always changing.

An incredibly beautiful, powerful goddess that most people fear.

That is what I hear, see and feel when I touch, taste and need you....

He sets the brush down.  

She grabs his hips and pulls him back to her, arms and legs wrapping him she squeezes and doesn't let go.

He leans back even more. Giving her all of his weight.

Safe....

There is a reason why it is called work…

My first job was de-tasseling corn.  Sun up to sundown.  Rain, heat, both at the same time, none of it  stopped junior high and high school kids from walking the mile long fields pulling out the tassels of seed corn.  

The fields all had to be pulled before the tassels opened, but couldn’t be pulled until they were a certain size. That was a very very small window, hence the long days.

Pop told me it was hurry up and wait work.  “You watched the corn grow.  You waited.  You waited.  You waited.  And then, awww shit, hurry up, pull those tassels before it is too late!”

The corn was wet from dew in the morning and would cut your hands.  The bugs were ridiculous and you walked field after field no matter the weather, doing the same repetitious thing you had been doing for many many hours.

Why would any one do this mind-boggling painful and boring job?  For the age, the money was good; especially in the eighties.  And only young kids could be conned into doing it.

The first day I got up at five am., was greeted by Pop with a cup of coffee, a big breakfast and a packed lunch of three bologna and cheese sandwiches, beanie weenies and a mountain dew.

As I strapped the lunch on to my back, hopped on my moped, the rain began.  Just a couple of drops, but the dark clouds said there was going to be more.  A lot more.

Pop stood in the doorway, looked up at the sky, and vanished into the house. He came back and handed me a couple of giant black trash can bags.  He told me to cut a hole in the top and drape it over me like a poncho.  

“Trust me.  It’ll help.”  He ruffled my hair and gave me a “good luck,”  and I was off high hopes of all the money I was going to make.

When I arrived, I was shown how to pull the tassel out of the corn and then me and twenty other eighth graders were let loose in the fields.  

I lost my left shoe in the mud. My hands and face were bleeding from the wet corn that sliced them up like razor blades.  My jeans and boots weighed about five pounds each from the mud and right when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, the rain stopped and then the bugs and the heat came. The blood on my face and hands called every mosquito for miles to feast on the free Christophe buffet.  That was the first hour.

We stopped for lunch, ate under the roof of a barn as the rain came down again and then was sent back to it.  No pity. No empathy. No sympathy.  The grown ups had done the same job when they were kids,  they survived, so would we.

With my moral left somewhere in the mud and the sun  setting, I rode home. Covered in mud, mosquito bites, cuts on my hands, face and arms, and my spirit broken, I began to cry

Pop pretended not to notice the tears as I pulled in to car park.  

Garden hose in his hand he nodded towards Old Man Maple.  “Strip em down house, hang em on the nail in the tree.”  I did as he said, too tired to even worry about the neighbors seeing me naked.

“Tub is ready for ya, haus.”

As I sat in the tub, I stared at my bloody hands and thought there was no way I could go back and do it all again the next day. But I wouldn't be able to face pop or anyone for that fact if I quit.

Pop walked in the bathroom, handed me a can of Mountain Dew, sat down on the toilet seat and smiled.  

“There’s a reason why they call it work, haus.  If you enjoyed it, they would call it masturbating.”

There were three rites of passage every boy did in Pops eyes. You were born a yard ape. You were a yard ape until some time during your puberty.

At some point, each boy was different,  you somehow earned your man card during puberty and you became Haus. You were becoming man.

And then, again it varied from person to person,  you eventually became chief. You were a man.  Equal in his eyes.  You could always digress, or never reach chiefdom. Everything depended on your character and your worth.

As I sat in the bathtub, tired sore and bloody, I realized that was the first time he called me Haus.

I smiled and even laughed a little. I really was hoping he would tell me I wouldn’t have to go back.

“Get some sleep, it will be easier tomorrow.”

It didn’t get easier, I just got tougher.  That and Pop kept repeating, “There is a reason why they call it work, haus.” inside my head.

That summer, Bruce Springsteen's’ Born in the USA album came out.   I immediately fell in love with the album.  “Born down in a dead mans town, the first kick I took was when I hit the ground…..”  If there ever was a song that felt good singing in Indiana heat, buried face deep in flesh cutting bug infested corn fields,  that song was it.  Sang it, over and over again.  

Four weeks went by and the job was done.  I was rewarded with a three hundred dollar paycheck and a “hope to see you and your stories next year.”

I spent all three hundred on four tickets to Bruce Springsteen’s. His album came out that summer, and I fell in love.  Sometimes music just comes along at the perfect moment in life, and it connects with everything. Springsteen's album did that.  And I was hooked.  Couldn’t get enough of him.

When pop found out that I spent all my money on concert tickets, I thought for sure he was going to beat the crap out of me with his one arm. I was sure in that instant I was going to go from “haus” to a “damn idiot yard ape” and stay that way forever. But he just stared for a while; smiled, and told me he hoped I enjoyed “Bob Stringbean and his Sneeze Feet Band”

Over the years I have had some good jobs and I have had some not so good jobs.  Through all of them, because someone else was telling me what to do, I would not want to do it.  All of us are like that.  “Each and every one of us has at one time taking a deep sigh, looked at some one and said, “well, I guess I better go to work.”

Now ask yourself, when was the last time you looked around,  took a deep breath,  sighed and said, “Well, I guess I better go masturbate.”

Pop was right.

There is a reason why they call it work.

I learned an awful lot that summer and I still look back on that concert with great joy. I don’t believe I would have enjoyed it nearly as much if I hadn’t worked my fingers to bloody scabs. And I don’t think I could have made it without Pop constantly telling me from a sideways glance, “There is a reason why they call it work, haus.”  

On a Friday night, in between The Dukes of Hazard and Dallas, Pop got up off the couch(sit up, sit on the edge, trademark groan, shuffle of feet for balance and another groan to grow on) and looked outside.

“I think its Christmas tonight, Haus.”  Pop walked into the den and I heard the loud click of the porch light.

The August summer night was suddenly illuminated with red, blue and green lights.  I walked up and stood beside Pop as he gazed out at the new holiday.  With a serious face he went back to the television as the theme to Dallas began.  “Some of the bulbs are burned out, Haus.  Can you change them?”

I wondered why the Christmas lights were up and just how long had they been like that but went to the garage like he asked.  I rummaged until I found the spare bulbs and replaced the bad ones, laughing as I did.  

Most people who leave their Christmas lights up year round really don’t care if they work or not; just too lazy to do it.  But in the case of Pop I imagine the last Christmas he really had before I came back was held in the memory of those lights being up. This was Pops rationale at its finest.   Don’t worry about taking the lights down, but dammit they all better work.

About a month later we were working in the garden.  The Cranberry beans were ready to be picked.  Pop preferred to pull up the entire plant, put them in the back of the station wagon and sit in the yard and shuck them.  The neighborhood always came over and helped.  Each person keeping the red ones in a bowl by their chair. The one with the most reds won; the prize decided by Pop.   One year it was a bottle of Old Spice.  The next it was a bowl of buckeyes. The year after that it was a coon skinned cap he bought from Buck Rettiker (another story for another time)

Pop sat on the tractor waiting for me to fill the wagon up which would then be transferred to the station wagon.  He lit a Raleigh non-filter, looked up at the sky, took a deep drag and nodded in approval.

“Yep, just as I thought.  Haus, run up to the house and turn the porch lights on.  It’s Christmas.”

I did as he said; then returned to finish the row of beans.

That night we all sat around the pile of beans playing the red game.  The kids trying to stay in their seats instead of wanting to go play, the adults doing what adults do when they get in a group; talk about different times.

Thelma Hood came out of her house; slowly crossed the street and told me to go in her house and bring the box over sitting by her door.  Thelma didn’t leave her house much. ��She would make the trip out to the fenced in lot where her German shepherd Lady was, petted her, fed her, and then returned to her house.  Seeing her cross the street was a Christmas miracle in itself.

Thelma was eighty to hundred years old.  I never knew. Her husband had owned the local gas station slash car dealership and had made a nice home for him and his family.  So Thelma really didn’t have to work but for years she had a beauty parlor in her basement. Her clientele were woman about a hundred to a thousand years old. All of them had white hair when they walked into Thelma’s house. Two hours later they would leave with Blue.  Robin once told me there was a ghost in the basement and whenever the ladies saw it their hair turned blue from fright. I believed him and wouldn’t go in the basement for years.  Eventually she was too old to turn hair blue and spent her time enjoying her TV shows.

I came back with the box and Thelma told me to put it in the middle of the circle.

“Carvin, I missed the last Christmas.  The one in August, but I was prepared for this one.  Merry Christmas everyone.”

Thelma was famous for her popcorn balls that she passed out on Halloween.  Every kid went to her house first to make sure they got one; sometimes even changing costumes to get a second.  And it was the first thing you ate when you got home.  The popcorn balls in the box were covered in red, green, and blue sugar that melted in your mouth, Christmas popcorn balls.  She then pulled out a copy of Goodnight Moon and Shel Silversteins “Where the Sidewalk Ends” for each of us

We all thanked Thelma and asked her to stay but with a wave of her hand she returned to her house, “Can’t stay, Barnaby Jones is on.”

Pop smiled as he watched Thelma cross the street.  He looked around at every one eating their popcorn balls and reading their books and nodded in approval.

It was the best Christmas ever.

Pop sitting in his favorite chair staring out at the  three acre lot as all of the neighborhood leaves gathered to talk about the summer and how well the tree they came from grew.

Like most people his age and of his era Pop loved his yard and garden.  He loved working on both. The three acre yard was always kept golf course short and didn’t have a single bump in it. When he was younger, pop kept up with this task with the energy of a child on Christmas.  Even with only one arm and four fingers he usually worked harder than most people half his age.  

After the kids left for college or got married, and grandma left because of the severity of his alcoholism he began to whither, the cancer that he had been fighting for ten years began to win.  

So the neighborhood bought him one of the mower rakes that fit behind his simplicity tractor.  Basically it looked like one of those baby wagons you see people pulling behind their bikes nowadays.  Only this one had a long bristle brush at the base that flipped all the leaves into the basket.  Pop could then pull up to the leaf pile, reach back and pull on a rope that flipped the whole thing over dumping the leaves in a pile.

By the time he was finished with the yard there would be a pile of red, orange, and brown leaves that extended for half of the block.  He would leave them for a couple of days with a rake propped against Old Man Maple so that the neighborhood kids could play in them.  

He would then light one end of the pile and the ritual of summer would begin with the tell tale white smoke blowing over the neighborhood.

I was reading Stephen Kings Salems Lot when I heard pop sigh.

“I guess you’re too old to play in the leaves, huh?”

I wanted to reply that you are never too old to play in leaves, but I knew pop was more or less talking to himself and not really to me.

“I’m not gonna put the leaves in a pile this year, haus.” Pop said slowly standing.  Trademark groan, shuffle of feet for balance and another groan to grow on.

“Pop, if you’re too tired, I can do it.”  I said closing the book.

“Naw, I have an idea.”

“Okay, let me know if you need help.”

I went back to reading and forgot about Pop and the yard.  I reached for my mountain dew to find it empty.  I walked into the kitchen for another one when I looked out the kitchen window to see white smoke.

“Oh shit!” I ran outside, around the garage and there was pop sitting in the side yard, beneath his favorite tree drinking a choc-ola as the yard in front of him went up in flames.

“Should have thought of this years ago.  Helluva lot easier this way….love the smell of burning leaves.”  Pop said smiling with satisfaction as he lit a Raleigh non-filter cigarette.

The next door neighbors’ dogs began to howl as the fire truck turned pulled on to our block with its siren blaring. Trademark groan, shuffle of feet for balance and another groan to grow on and Pop was walking towards the fire truck as it pulled up and two men; one young, one old,  hopped out of the truck and started to pull the fire hose out of the back.

“Hey ya piss ants, don’t put that out!”  Pop yelled waving his ball cap to get their attention.

Paul Gerring and his son, Pecker, stood with the fire hose in their hands staring at pop with a strange look on their faces. Pecker looked at the ground trying not to get Pops full attention.

Peckers name was not Pecker.  It was Drew.  But during a game of kickball,  instead of going in the house to pee he chose the bush beneath the window that pop sat by and watched the world.  Pop poked his head out of the window, looked down at Drew peeing on the bush and laughed.  “No wonder you wanna hide behind a bush.  If I had a pecker that small I would hide too.”

All the kids died laughing as Drew zipped up and stepped away from the window.  “Hell, it’s even too damn small to shake. You dribbled down your Toughskins.”  Pop said laughing as he closed the window.  

After that, every time Pop saw Drew he would give him a whole hearted, “Hey, Pecker.  Hope its growing.”

And once Pop gave you a nickname, it stuck so Drew became Pecker.  

“ Carvin, did you start this fire?”

“Hell, yeah!  And unless you and Pecker there want to rake the rest of the yard, you’ll let it burn.  Shit far, there’s no danger. It’ll stop at the road.”

Paul stood for a minute.  Then, smiling, he shook his head and started to put the hose away.  “Why didn’t you call and tell us it was a control burn?”

“Well, if I knew what the fuck a control burn was, maybe I would of.”  Pop walked back to his chair and sat down, trademark shuffle, groan and then fall back  into the seat.  “Sit down, take a load and drop it.  You and Pecker want a Choc-ola?”

Paul began to walk back to the fire truck.  “That’s okay, Carvin.  Maybe next time.”

“Deal.” Pop said. “See ya next fall.  And don’t blare that damn siren next time.  Damn thing hurts the shrapnel in my spine.”

“I guess telling you to call us in advance would be like telling you not to call Drew, Pecker?”

“That’s using that education…” Pop said as he gave them a wave and went back to watching the yard burn……………. ,

river

[myselfinserts]

Don’t be so dramatic…

Regi remained quiet during the tour. No one, not even Madame Rosine, had expected a personal invitation to be given a tour of their headquarters from Anton Perun of all people. So of course, no one declined. Most of the group seemed extremely excited, whispering among themselves trying to figure out why this had happened now. Madame managed to rework their schedule to fit the tour into their already packed weekend, and thus the plans were set for them to tour it that Saturday afternoon. It felt like a dream.

A dream Regi tried to bring back to reality as he remembered where they were.

The building was enormous, with at least thirty floors above ground and, if what Madame was saying was to be believed, about ten floors below. Though those floors were off limits, since that was where the confidential projects were handled. The inside was sleek and well lit, looking almost like the setting of a science fiction novel. The windows were crystal clear. And the floor was polished to a shine. The staff were all dressed in similar clothing; white button ups with Perun’s mark on them, a lab coat, trousers, and boots. Some had goggles on their heads, while others kept their gear on belts. Occasionally as they passed, they’d see large screens on the walls that would alternate between fine artwork, photographs, and reminders for the staff. What seemed to be the most surprising was the fact that the cafeteria, or rather food court, was its own entire floor, and there were three levels dedicated to just medical emergencies.

At least no one can accuse Perun of not being thorough.

The tour guide, a researcher by the name of Caelum who wore a strange looking watch, lead them to the top floor. It was just an entire hallway with glass walls showing two rooms on either side,  filled with items in protective cases and retired hero suit designs on replica mannequins of the heroes who sported them. A museum of the history of one of the world’s current top dogs in support.

Interestingly, it was also the only floor without any visible windows.

“And this is, for lack of better words, the company artifact storage.” Caelum nodded to the side where the costumes were. “Here we have replicas of some of the famous costumes our design teams have worked on. We also have designs that ended up never being used, but we keep on hand for inspiration. I’m sure you’ll recognize some of our more popular works. As for the other side we have props resembling items the company has made over the last several decades, and once we’re given authorization to enter the rooms, you can all go up and read about them and see footage of them in action.”

One of the students (a stocky giant from London called Baxter if Regi remembered correctly) stared at Caelum with an incredulous look. “They’re not real items?”

Caelum chuckled. “No, they’re not. We wouldn’t just keep items like these in such an open space. This floor is just for tours like this, as well as a kind of pep talk spot for interns.” He briefly turned his attention to his earpiece, smiling excitedly. “Looks like we’ve been given the go ahead-”

Étienne stepped forward, his voice slightly hurried. “Sir, your watch!”

Regi glanced to Caelum’s wrist, eyes wide when he saw it start to spark and smoke. With a sharp pop, it shut down and fell to the ground in several pieces. “Holy shit.”

Caelum’s smile snapped to a look of terror as small blue hexagons started to grow on his face. “Oh no. Oh no, no, no. This isn’t good.”

“Come on.” Rosine hurried over to him, grabbing his arm tightly and dragging him back to the elevator. “We gotta get you to the med wing.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “All of you stay put. Gladstone, you’re in charge. Don’t let anyone touch the watch.”

“Y-yes, Madame,” Regi stammered. He reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the “evidence domes” Rosine usually carries, pressing the button on top and using it to cover the watch.

“He’s in charge?” Baxter scoffed. “Why the hell is he in charge? We don’t need babysitting.”

“Idiot.” Étienne leaned against one of the walls, arms crossed. “It’s pretty obvious why.”

Baxter’s face went red. “What did you say, Allard?”

“He’s the only one here with a hero license, asshole. I’m not too happy about this either, but it’s not exactly something that needs explaining. If that confuses you, perhaps you’re in the wrong field.” His eyes darted to the evidence dome. “Curious gadget...wonder why it broke.”

Despite him clearly wanting to argue further, Baxter dropped the issue, and everyone made themselves as comfortable as possible, pulling out their phones or tablets and finding time to occupy themselves until their teacher returned. Regi kept his attention everywhere, making sure no one snuck off and tried something. Though he didn’t think they would. None of these people would risk their potential careers like that. 

As Regi’s eyes darted about, he noticed an outfit not too far from their group that looked eerily familiar. It was a full body suit in a beautiful shade of white, with red, gold, and silver detailing. It was properly padded, sleek, and came with a matching set of gloves, boots, and a mask. What stood out about it though was the hooded poncho, which had intricately embroidered vines swirling around moons, stars, and suns. Regi could just make out the name on the plate on the podium in front of it. 

“Endymion’s Bloom.” Strange name, he thought. Looks almost like Amaryllis.

After about fourty minutes, everyone started to get annoyed. Regi decided to shoot a quick message to Rosine, hoping to get an answer fast. 

He didn’t expect one so soon. 

> Everyone’s still here. Is Mr. Caelum okay?

> He’ll be fine. His body is stable now, don’t worry. Is the watch still safe?

> Yes ma’am. What happened exactly. What was happening to Mr. Caelum?

> It was his quirk, and that’s all I’ll say on the matter. I’ll be back with a replacement tour guide in twenty minutes. Anton is pissed right now.

Perun heard about what happened? Oh god. This...this isn’t good. 

Regi was about to let the others know that Rosine would be back soon, when he felt someone grab him and turn him around. He glanced over his shoulder, blushing as he saw a girl about their age. She had lovely violet eyes, with long mauve hair folded into a perfect bun. Her dress was perfect shade of blue, with a couple of frills that made her look like a doll. 

“Quick,” she whispered. “Everyone come in and hide me. Now.”

The group looked at each other with anonyed glances before shrugging and scooching in. Not enough to touch, but enough that they were closer than they’d been the last hour. Regi was surprised. Either they all knew something he didn’t, or they were just that bored. He hoped it was the latter.

“Thanks,” she whispered. “Now, say nothing, okay?”

Regi raised an eyebrow. “What do you-”

The girl interrupted him. “Hush. He’ll find me otherwise.”

"Victoire! Where did you go?!"

"Sssh."

Regi felt his entire face burn as the young lady hid behind him. The rest of the students didn't seem to mind her antics, some to the point of ignoring her existence. A man in a suit headed toward them, not even noticing how everyone clustered together, hiding their new addition perfectly from him. 

"Have you seen a young lady come this way?" he asked. "Blue dress? Violet eyes? Long hair?"

"Haven't the foggiest," Regi squeaked. "I didn't see anyone like that."

The man sighed in exasperation, running past and hurrying down the hall. "Victoire!"

The girl waited until he was far gone before coming out of hiding, giving the students a polite curtsy. "Thank you for that. Papa thinks I need a handler while I'm wandering around the lab. He's overprotective."

Étienne rolled his eyes. "You should listen to him. This is no place for a child."

The girl gave a pout. "I'm an adult. A university student even. I'm no child."

"Could have fooled me. Only a child plays ridiculous games in such a place. Isn’t it past your nap time?"

Regi wanted to snap at him, but something in his gut made him stay quiet. The girl stared at him with intrigue. She almost seemed...he didn’t want to say impressed, but that was as close to the feeling Regi could read off her.

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” she asked. 

“It’s not that hard to figure out,” Étienne grumbled. “I know who you are, and I don’t fucking care.”

“...interesting.” The girl smiled, holding out her hand to him. “What’s your name?”

“None of your business, that’s what it is.” He looked over at Regi, glaring. “How much longer are we going to be forced to wait?”

“Uh,” Regi stammered. “Madame said about twenty minutes. She’s getting a new tour guide.” 

Étienne rolled his eyes and walked over to the back of the group, where Sonya was standing. Regi let out a sigh. He hardly did or said anything all day. Even avoided his roommate when getting ready for the day. And yet, he felt like he still managed to piss him off. 

Still, he did speak up for me against Baxter. Kind of. That’s something, right?

Then again, I’m probably reading too much into it.

The girl sighed, hands on her hips as she turned her attention to the technonaut. “Is he always like that?”

“Uh...” He really didn’t want to answer that. 

“Figured.” She looked him over carefully. “You’re that hero that had the freak out on the news a while back, right?”

Just kill me. “I...I am.”

She nodded slowly. “I heard you were related to the case from papa. Something related to your parents. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” he said. “Wait...how did you-”

“Oh, papa’s the designer for a couple of heroes on the case.”

Wait. Don’t tell me this girl is-

“Victoire!”

Everyone jumped to attention, lining up so that the girl was at the front of them as their teacher returned. Madame Rosine wasn’t alone though. Behind her was a group of security guards, all dressed in black. Beside her, a man in a lab coat, with light green hair and white crosses in his violet eyes where pupils should have been.

It was him. Anton Perun. 

And despite the neutral expression, you could tell, he was fuming. 

Rosine went over to the dome, removing it and gathering the evidence in a bag before handing it over to Perun. The designer nodded, slipping it into his pocket and then looking to the girl. “Victoire, get away from there. There’s a villain in that group.”

“Yes, papa.” 

Victoire hurried over and hid behind some of the security guards, her cheerful expression now tired and lonely. With a nod, a few of the guards escorted her away to the other elevator. 

Regi wasn’t sure why, but the scene hurt. 

One of their peers (what was his name again? Regi wondered. Nicole? I think?) raised his hand. “Pardon me, sir. But you said one of us is a villain?”

Perun nodded. “At least you would be, if Caelum wanted to press charges. He insisted that I don’t. Wants this whole situation to just fade into memory.” The crosses in his eyes spun a little, becoming X marks. “As I’m sure some of you guessed, that watch was an item of my own design to help with his quirk. And it should not have broken the way it did. Now...” He looked them all over carefully. “I want whoever it is to step forward and admit it. If you don’t in the next ten seconds, you’re not going to like what happens next.” His eyes returned to their normal crosses, and after ten seconds, he sighed. “Very well then. I didn’t want to have to do this.”

With a snap of his fingers, the guards marched towards the students slowly. 

Baxter was the first to break. “I bet it was Gladstone. Technopaths like him could break something like that easy.”

The color drained from Regi’s face. “But my quirk doesn’t work like that. I can only create-”

“How do we know that’s true though? I mean, you certainly have the anger to do it.”

“I don’t-”

“Don’t try to deny it. We all saw your freak out on the news.”

Some of the other students exchanged looks, but said nothing. Regi tried to remain calm, hoping that they didn’t believe the claim. He’d never do something like that, even if he had the power to do that. 

They don’t really think I’d do this, would they?

Rosine glared at Baxter. “I’m disappointed in you, Mr. Fielding.” 

One of the walls changed from the clear glass to a video screen, showing a video of the security footage with infrared signatures over it. Everyone watched as Baxter’s image waved a hand at his side. What seemed like a bolt of lightning shot out from it, hitting the watch in just the right spot to destroy it. 

Regi looked at him in shock. “What the hell was that?”

“His quirk,” Rosine answered. “Normally I’d wonder why you would do something like this, but I’m not interested in your excuses. You can consider this your last day as my student.”

Baxter lowered his head, scowling and radiating anger. But he remained silent as the guards separated him from the group. 

Perun looked to the students, a disinterested look on his face as security escorted their classmate out of the building. “I’m going to teach you all a very important lesson today, and I want you all to take it to heart.” He waited until they settled. “Now listen close, because I’m only going to say this once. Do you understand?”

The entire group nodded.

“Good.” He walked over to the screen on the wall, pressing a button that immediately changed the image from a list of that day’s projects, to one of just names. Regi felt his stomach lurch at the number of them. Row after row of blue shining names against a black background. Many of them were of heroes and fellow designers, but there were also a few recognizable turned-villains, a few less than reputable journalists known for sensationalizing lies, and even, to his surprise, the entire branch of a Hero Association. Beside each name was a photo of their face.

And Regi almost passed out when he saw Baxter Fielding appear at the bottom of the most empty column.

“Learn from your classmate’s mistake today,” Perun said. “As you climb this industry and make a name for yourselves, do not be afraid to blacklist certain unfavorable people. The higher you are, the more weight your words and thoughts will have. And as cruel as it is for some to say you’re currently on the bottom rung, I’m afraid I’ll be crueler and tell you all the truth. You all deserve that much.” His eyes narrowed. “You’re all not even on the ladder yet. Once you graduate, you’re on the bottom rung. Get that far, and you’ll have made it farther than most. Climb the ladder. Make your voice heard.” He pointed to the screen, his voice sending shivers up their spines. “And don’t be afraid to use it.”

Regi felt his heart sink. Everything felt heavy. Like he was drowning. One of their peers just had any chance of a career in the industry shattered and destroyed in seconds. The moment people found out he’s been blacklisted by Perun, he’ll be ruined. He’d be lucky to get a job in the mail room of a half-baked D-lister. He almost felt bad for Baxter. 

Almost.

And that scared Regi a hell of a lot more.

“Don’t be so dramatic. I thought cheap, theatrical threats were beneath the great Anton Perun.”

Everyone snapped their attention to Étienne, who had just as bored an expression as Perun. 

The designer raised an eyebrow. “They are. But I draw the line when someone actively harms one of my employees. And since he asked me not to press charges, this is the only way to handle the situation in the most appropriate manner. Do you not agree?”

“I do,” Étienne said. “However, given that we waited here for nearly an hour and still have other things to do, I’d much rather hear if your employee is fine, finish the damn tour, and then leave.” He smirked. “And I’m sure you would rather be either attending to your work or to your...employee.”

Perun let out a soft chuckle, looked to Rosine. “Ésme, keep an eye on this one. I get the feeling he’s going to be a little troublemaker once he gets on the ladder. I like troublemakers.” He turned around and started to leave. “I look forward to seeing more from your remaining students.”

Perun left them with a new tour guide, and soon they were allowed to properly explore the archive. Regi didn’t move though. His mind was still trying to process everything. 

Madame Rosine put a hand on his shoulder. “Gladstone? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he assured. “Just a little tired.”

“Are you sure?” she inssisted. “Regi, you’re looking pale. Are you sure you’re alright?”

No...no I’m not.

“...Is it alright if I be excused to go back to the hotel?”

“...Sure. Just message me when you get there.”

“Thank you, Madame.”

Without another word, Regi quietly left the building and started making his way back to the hotel. It was a long walk, and by the time the rest of the group were set to return, he’d probably be asleep. So he decided to take a moment to enjoy the fresh air, stopping to pick up a quick bite to eat on the way. Food, then a good sleep. That’s what he needed. 

A good...sleep...

“I fucking hate hotels. The bedlinens they use irritate my Quirk.”

I probably shouldn’t but...

Regi let out a groan and pulled out his phone, looking for the nearest shop that sold bedding. Once he found it, he made a mad dash for it, quickly running through every fabric available to try and figure out the best possible one to get. He ended up lying to a nice saleswoman and saying that the hotel sheets were giving him a rash, and she recommended a high thread count sateen set she herself used. It was a bit overpriced for his liking, but just by the touch, he felt it’d be much better to sleep in than whatever it was they were already using. It was also supposed to be warm, and the room they were in had a pretty bad draft. 

Yeah, these will work just fine. 

He bought the set, and quickly hurried back to the hotel. Luckily the others hadn’t gotten back yet, so he quickly set to work on changing out the bedding, starting to fold the hotel’s sheets before opting to just make himself a spot on the floor. 

“Done,” he sighed, finally managing a smile. He quickly shot a message to Rosine and proceeded to get ready for bed. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Regi went over to the door. He was sure it wasn’t his roommate. Allard had a key. He figured it might be housekeeping, or perhaps Madame if she just came back with the others. 

He opened the door.

“Hello-”

A sharp, stinging pain when through his head as a fist made contact with his face, knocking his glasses off him. He heard a sharp crunch of glass, and then felt another set of knuckles catch him in the left eye. Instinctively, he raised his leg and gave a hard kick, sending his assailant into the wall across from his door. 

Only after that did he see it was Baxter. 

“What the fuck?!” Regi coughed, leaning on the door for support. “First the watch now this? What the fuck is wrong with you?! What did I ever do to you people?! Haven’t you had enough after what you did at Perun’s?! Why would you even do something like that?!”

Baxter glared at him, staggering back to his feet. “I don’t have to explain anything to you, you fucking cheat.” He spat at his feet, hazel eyes burning with rage before fading to a dull, listless ember. “Figured since I had nothing left to lose, might as well get a hit in on the kid that’s been pissing me off the most all semester before I head home.” 

Regi wanted to get angry. He wanted to lung at him. Choke him. Scream at him. Hurt him until everything went numb. Instead, he picked up what he could of his broken glasses, looking at his former classmate one more time. There were so many things he wanted to say. 

Instead, he settled on the only thing that he knew would hurt the least.

“...I pity you.”

Without even waiting for a response, he closed the door. Regi waited there in silence, counting the seconds until he finally heard Baxter Fielding walking away from the door. Once he was certain he wouldn’t be coming back, he set his glasses down on the desk and went over to his first aid kit. But as he reached for the bottle of healing water, he stopped. They still had a day left of the trip, and he didn’t have much on him, and wouldn’t get more until he got back to the dorms. Using it to heal what would no doubt be a black eye in a few minutes seemed wasteful. Especially since he would be asleep soon anyway. 

If it’s not looking good in the morning, I’ll use it. Better to have it on hand in case of an emergency. 

Regi quickly got ready for bed, curling up in his spot on the floor and allowing himself to fade into the the void of rest. 

His last thought as he fell asleep was that tomorrow would be better. 

And if it isn’t, I’ll make it better myself.