#she's done killing guys she just wants to live a peaceful farm life now

[84773ry4c1d]

DO WE FW FARMER V2 !!?

aka my stardew valley ultrakill AU

[thetragicallynerdy]

Hi, I'm here from the tealoranges tag! Fic title meme: Are You Going to Scarborough Fair?

Alright alright, I finally had the brains to think about this and write something! (For those who haven't heard of it, this meme is that you send me a fic title, and I sketch out the fic I think would match it. I am not accepting further prompts for this meme at this time.)

I know that this one would go really nicely as a like, farmers market au, but hear me out: post-war au and farmer’s market au. Because the canticle aspect of Simon & Garfunkle’s version of Scarborough Fair always, always makes me think about war (because, y’know, it’s about war). But, because it’s Jim and Olu, and I really wouldn’t ever write an actual war type fic, lets go with “Canon time - Jim, returning from their holy mission, and Oluwande, who sells his wares at the market.”

When I started typing this I was going to say it was more vibes than plot (the Vibes being an exhausted Jim who’s killed a whole lot of men and then returned home to find that they’re still not at peace, and then they meet Oluwande) but now there’s like 1000+ words of plot so here u go:

Jim never made it to Nassau as their first stop in their mission. They don’t meet Oluwande, and they instead spend ten-fifteen years tracking down every last member of the Siete Gallos. Alfeo de la Vaca is not their first. He’s closer to their last, which is the main reason that they keep at it so long – a) there is no one to encourage them to stop, and b) they haven’t killed the one that matters yet.

Somewhere along the way, they have exactly one run in with Blackbeard and Stede, who we can presume are still doing their romance off to the side. They see a handsome Black man with a teal earring on the crew who catches their eye – but then they forget about him.

Oluwande, meanwhile, got out of Spanish Jackie’s for other reasons, about the same time as he would’ve in canon. He finds Stede, and has a rather successful career in piracy before he finally settles down and buys a home. He learns how to make jewelry, and sells it. Tiny trinkets, that sort of thing, to keep his hands busy. For some reason, he really liked St. Augustine the last time they were there. He settles down.

Jim finally finishes their hit list. They return to St. Augustine, scarred and hardened and hoping to find some semblance of peace, because all they feel is a hollowness in their chest and a bone-deep weariness. They come home to a home that’s still empty and ruined, overgrown after decades of neglect.

Whether or not Nana is still alive is up to you. If she is, her exuberance over Jim being done their mission grates against the disenchantment they’re feeling. If she’s not, there’s a point of grief over ‘she was the one I was doing this for, and she’s not even here to see it.’

Either way – Jim is not doing great. They try and fix up the farm, but mainly fix up the house enough to live in, and wallow. The Beautiful Life they were promised afterwards hasn’t happened, and everything feels like dust. Very ‘returning from war and finding yourself at odds with the world’ type vibes.

But then they wander into the market one morning when they’re coming in to, I dunno, buy food, and they happen across a tiny stall, run by a beautiful man with a teal earring. He sells jewelry, and it feels so frivolous, so unnecessary, but they can’t help but stop and look at it. Jewelery isn’t even their thing, but they can’t help but reach out and touch the intricate little earrings.

Oluwande recognizes them. And, in true Oluwande fashion, blurts out “holy shit, I know you.” This is not immediately a concern. Most people in town know them, by rumour at the very least, of the Jimenez child who lived. It’s a small place. However, then he says “we met on uh – The Gentleman Pirate’s ship, you killed that guy –“ and Jim gets very defensive very fast. And maybe runs away a little, wondering if they need to just pack up and go because they don’t really want people recognizing them for all the blood they’ve spilled.

(And then they remember the handsome man with the teal earring, and kick themself a little for not being able to place him immediately. He's still just as handsome, all these years later.)

Later that day Oluwande shows up at their door, with an apology on his lips and a small earring in his hand. “Didn’t mean to scare you off,” he says sheepishly. “I just got excited. Not many people here that know what I used to do.”

Jim reluctantly lets him in, and offers him a drink. They talk. Or, Oluwande talks, and Jim listens.

It’s not love at first meeting. But so many people in town avoid talking to Jim, and he doesn’t seem to care about the blood they’ve spilled. Hell, he was a pirate. He’s spilled just as much. So a tentative friendship is born.

They start seeking him out. Wandering to the market just to talk and pretend to browse his wares. They keep the earring he gave them, but their ears aren’t pierced, so they don’t do anything with it. They start bringing small food treats that they pick up at the market, so they have an excuse to sit and share it. Oluwande brightens every time they show up. He starts having tea or something else to drink ready every time, to share with the food.

Jim keeps trying to fix up the farm. But every time they do it just feels pointless, and makes them sad. They don’t really need a job for the money, but they’re starting to get restless, like they need something to do.

They take up whittling instead. It’s hard, and they cut themself more than they have since they first learned how to handle knives. Their first clumsy attempt at a bird gets given to Oluwande. So does their second, their third. A few more become toys, given to the family down the road. It takes time, but they get good.

“You should let me sell these,” Oluwande muses, running fingers over an intricate crocodile. “They’re really good.”

Jim shrugs. “I don’t really need the money.”

He raises an eyebrow and nods at his jewelry. “Neither do I. Why do you think they’re so cheap?”

Jim lets Oluwande sell their carvings. It’s a good partnership.

Eventually they kiss him. Of course they do. He’s handsome and sweet and the only person who makes them feel like a person again, and not the assassin they’ve become. The only person who teases them about their hat and their long coat and tells them they’re not as scary as they think they are.

And it’s good. It’s so good, this little romance. Easy, in a way very few things in their life have been.

A few weeks, maybe months after they add romance to the mix, Jim admits, late one evening, how much they hate living at the farm. How they still think about leaving, all the time.

“Could move in with me,” Oluwande whispers, voice just audible from where Jim is plastered to his back. “I’ve got the space.”

Jim leaves the next morning and tells him they need to think about it, promising they’re not running away, that they just need time to think. They go, and sit on their farm, and then disappear into the woods like they did as a child. When they come back two days later, it still feels just as empty and barren and broken as it did when they first set foot back in St. Augustine, just as lost as it did when they were a child. The healing they were hoping for is happening, but it’s not happening on this farm.

So they pack up all of their things (there aren’t many), and walk to the village. The sun is just setting, and there’s a candle already burning in Oluwande’s window. There’s no hesitation before they knock.

Oluwande opens the door, and sees them, and their bag. He smiles and holds the door open wider.

“Welcome home.”

That’s it! Look I will never actually write this, so if anyone ever wants to write the thing, have at! (Just give me credit for the idea, and please for the love of god send it to me so I can read it XD)

Anyway thanks for the prompt anon, this was fun!! Sorry it took me a while XD

[onceandfutureoshainspector]

- this looks more like a mob than a courtroom, but i’ll make it work.

DiMA: My long walk is over...

- DiMA may not have the best decision making skills, but he can do the math. he knows there’s a good chance that whatever happens, he won’t be coming home.

Avery: What's this about? DiMA: People of Far Harbor. You know me. We have lived peacefully together for years. We have come to trust each other, in our way. But I've betrayed that trust, and I've kept the truth from all of you. Early on during Acadia's founding, I murdered one of your own. I replaced them with one of mine. Avery: What? Who?

- she doesn’t know. that’s something i did not expect. now i’m really glad i didn’t push her.

DiMA: The identity of my... agent, must remain hidden. They are as much a victim in this as anyone. They will do you no further harm. I am the only one to blame. Cat: Go on, DiMA. DiMA: I wanted to prove that humanity and synth could co-exist. That we did not have to fear each other. But I went too far. I see that now... I only ask that you judge me, and not what we've built together. Allow the peace between Acadia and Far Harbor to last beyond this. Allen: Peace? You call murdering one of ourse "peace"? I say we end this bastard and then burn his whole god damned Acadia to the ground!

- man, shut the fuck up! i’ve about had it with your jingoistic bullshit!

Avery: Allen, enough. DiMA will pay for his crime. But not Acadia. This path you want leads to murder. Cold blooded murder. Allen: We leave them be and we'll never know if they're killing and replacing us one by one. No, we kill every last one of them just to be sure. Who's with me?

- oh fuckyeah, i do actually get to tell him to shut the fuck up! hell yes!

Cat: Every time you open your damned mouth, Allen, the whole town suffers. Shut up.

- [Hancock liked that] [Old Longfellow liked that] [Piper loved that] [Valentine loved that] FULL HOUSE BABEY!

Allen: Why... you... I ought to... Sandra: Don't listen to the Mainlander. My brother knows what we got to do! [dammit] Mariner: See the Hull? That's thanks to the Mainlander. A true friend of the Harbor. [fuckyeah!] Teddy: You going to listen to Allen's hate-mongerin'? You even remember who did the Captain's Dance? [fuckyeah!!] Cassie: Mainlander cleared my farm. Avenged my family! More than the rest of you ever did for me. [fuckyeah!!!] Bertha: What's Allen really ever done? Cause trouble. Remember who cleared the Lumber Mill. Remember who's given us a new chance to take back our Island. [fuckyeah!!!!]

Andre: I owe my very life to the stranger. We should listen now. [wait, who’re you again- oh yeah, you’re my guy who was dying of the symptoms when i first got here. fuckyeah!!!!! also dude wtf have you been doing sticking your face in a fire pit?] Mitch: My uncle's safe and alive. The stranger's always steered us right. [fuckyeah!!!!!!] Allen: Enough. I'll... back down.

- man, am i glad i finished off those sidequests before confronting DiMA! (i’m guessing that’s what’s happening here - all the ones speaking up in my favour are the ones that i helped. i must’ve missed a quest from Sandra or something).

Avery: Allen, the Harbor's spoken. So this ends here. DiMA. Murder's a serious crime. There's only the one punishment for it.

- sentenced by his own victim, unknowing. sigh. man, i was really hoping i could get him out of this. like, definitely kick him out of any and all leadership roles, but maybe keep him around with like several hundred years’ community service or something. :(

Avery: If you have any last words... Now's the time. DiMA: I'm sorry...

- yo wtf???? they just blew him away right here and now???? i thought there’d be a hanging or something. i guess to a place like Far Harbour justice is justice, whether you stand on ceremony or not.

Avery: Every homestead, town, and people has a dark side. But if we're ever to know peace - we don't let the worst of us define us. So justice has been done. And I expect everyone to respect the peace between us and Acadia.

- case closed. :(

[dixonsmonroe]

Near To You

Summary: Daryl and Rick had everything, until they didn’t. But when Daryl meets Jesus, he learns that there are always second chances when it comes to love.

Pairing: Daryl x Rick, Daryl x Jesus

Word count: 4k

Author’s notes: i actually found this in my google docs other day and apparently i wrote this 2 years ago so enjoy!

Warning: mentions of smut (18+), fluff, pining, canon level violence, i will never stop loving desus

Daryl hadn’t taken kindly to Rick right away. He didn’t like him when they were still at the camp and Rick had a gun to Daryl’s head, and told him in his best ‘good-cop’ voice, “We don’t kill the living.” It was like that for a while; anytime Rick started off on his pep talks, Daryl wanted to knock him in the teeth. The longer Merle was gone, though, the pep talks became less annoying and even kind of comforting.

After they left the CDC and ended up at the farm, Daryl still kept his distance, but did whatever Rick needed him to. He actually enjoyed being around him, and working in a group as a team. He felt useful around the farm; it was work he knew how to do. He also noticed the only time he was ever annoyed at Rick anymore was when Shane was around. Shane would make some dumbass remark, Daryl would antagonize him, and Rick would keep them from fighting. Shane would leave and Rick would just look apologetically at Daryl, who would shrug it off and assure everything was fine.

Nothing had ever happened until the prison. They had been there for a while, and after Lori died, Rick had started to come back to them bit by bit. He was currently in a peaceful farming phase, which was plentiful for the group, but still a little out of character.

Rick met Daryl in the guard tower for first watch shifts after everyone went to bed.

“The place is lookin’ good,” Rick looked out over the whole prison, over the crops they had grown and the reinforcements around the walls. “We really made this place home.”

“Took a lotta work, but it was worth it.” Daryl replied, smoking his cigarette, “You got us all here.”

“Couldn’t have done it without my right hand,” he smiled. Daryl stifled a grin and looked away, trying not to let Rick see him blush.

They had been together like this a thousand times, just the two of them, hanging out. They were best friends, they were family. But sometimes Rick would laugh a certain way or he’d get all focused and solemn or he would push his hair out of his face and Daryl would freeze up. Rick was a strong leader, and a good friend. He had Daryl’s full loyalty.

“How’ve you been doing?” he asked.

“Much better. Rick nodded. “I know I lost it a little bit, but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and I’m figuring things out.”

“You need anything, lemme know.”

Rick stared out the window in silence for a few moments. “There might be something.”

Daryl glanced at Rick, who was now looking at him, albeit a bit nervously.

“What’s that?”

Rick looked hesitant now, like he was mentally backing out of whatever he was going to say. He leaned closer to Daryl still, until their hands were touching. Daryl glanced at Rick out of the corner of his eye. He could feel Rick’s body heat so incredibly close, and it made him shiver. Rick finally took his hand and held it as they looked out across the yard. Daryl fought back a grin and gave Rick’s hand a squeeze, leaning against him.

Nothing more had happened until about two weeks later. In those two weeks there had still been plenty of secret hand holding, stolen smiles and glances, the like. But one day after an especially tolling run, Daryl had made his decision. It had been rough out there; it was him, Rick, and Maggie, the car had stalled and they almost got taken out by a hoard. Daryl watched Rick almost get bit and he felt like he was about to lose everything he cared about. He had thrown the walker off of him after stabbing it and helped Rick up. He patted Daryl’s shoulder and nodded towards the car.

The moment they knew they were completely alone back at the prison, Daryl kissed Rick. The best part was Rick kissed him back, as if this was normal, as if it was how it had always been. Rick’s hand went to Daryl’s cheek and they leaned their foreheads together.

“I—“ Daryl started but Rick cut him off with another kiss.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I wanted to do it first, but I couldn’t find the right time.”

“Me too.” Daryl replied. “Figured you almost dyin’ was as good a reason as any.”

Rick chuckled, leaning back a bit, thumb running over Daryl’s cheekbone.

That was how it was after that. They didn’t tell anyone, not Glenn, not Carol, not anybody. There were nights where they would sneak off to an abandoned cell or hallway and just take their time, take in every bit of each other.

One night was different. Rick still had Daryl pushed up against the wall, still inside of him as they came down, slowing their breathing.

“I love you,” Rick breathed out so quietly, Daryl wasn’t sure he’d heard it right. He just turned his head around his shoulder and kissed Rick sweet and soft. Rick’s eyes were a little wide, pride and ego slowly melting away.

“I love you,” Daryl said finally. Of course he did. He always had.

It was like that for a while; sneaking off to fuck after everyone went to sleep, spending guard shifts paying attention to their job, but also pausing to make out like teenagers or just talking about everything. It was bliss Daryl had never experienced in his life, and it was with his absolute best friend.

The day the prison got broken into, Daryl left with Beth and there was no sign of Rick anywhere.

He and Beth had been through some shit, Daryl had gotten drunk and acted like a total asshole, and Beth was nothing but understanding, even though he may not have deserved it. That night, they sat on the porch of the house they had found, having a heart to heart. Beth, even with her naive nature that made Daryl have hope but also made him a little bitter. He’d never had the option to be optimistic in his life, always on high alert.

“You wanna know what I was before all this?” Daryl asked softly. “I was no one. Nothin’.”

Beth looked sad for a moment, but nodded for him to keep going.

“Until I found Rick and the group.” He continued. He had never told anyone about him and Rick, never ever. But Beth was understanding, and as much as she talked or sang or whatever, he knew he could trust her. She and Maggie felt like the younger sisters he never had.

“Rick and I—“ he took a breath before he spilled all the things he had never told anyone. “We were together. We’ve always been close, always been his right hand. But at some point it was more than that.”

Beth grinned dreamily. “Do you love him?”

He nodded, a small smile on his face thinking about it. Everything was shit right now, but despite everything he’d said when he yelled at her earlier, he knew they had to find Rick and their family.

“We’ll find them again,” Beth reassured. “We’re going to.”

He had lost Beth. He was alone, until he found the Claimers. He missed Beth, he missed having someone he trusted and who kept him sane. These guys were brutal, they were guys he knew not to cross.

The night they had found the guy Joe was looking for, Daryl heard a voice and immediately knew who he was.

Daryl heard Joe threatening Rick, so he stepped out of the shadows.

“Joe!” he said, causing him to turn towards Daryl. “You gotta let these guys go. They’re good people.”

He made quick eye contact with Rick, careful not to give anything away but screaming on the inside because Rick looked both terrified and relieved to see him. Michonne looked angry, but also so fucking scared at the same time.

He argued with Joe, he really tried.

“Hey, you want blood. I get it.” Daryl put his crossbow down and held his arms out. “Take it from me, man.”

The blows started almost immediately. The other Claimers just started wailing on him as hard as they could. He was praying he didn’t crack a rib or get kicked in the face or fucking die.

Joe’s voice was barely audible to him, Daryl’s heart pounding in his ears. “First, we’re gonna beat Daryl to death, then we’re gonna have the girl. Then the boy. Then I’m gonna kill you.”

Daryl knew he had to get up, he had to fight back, he had to save them. He had seen a man drag Carl out of the car and throw him on the ground, holding him down and unbuckling his belt. Oh, fuck no.

He listened to Rick plead with Joe, pleaded with him to let his son go, just let him go.

A gunshot rang through the air. The men stopped beating Daryl, and he got up to fight. It was rough, and he saw Rick stagger against the noise, and when Rick seemed almost incapable of fighting any longer, he looked Joe in the eye.

“What are you gonna do now?” Joe taunted, before Rick bit down on his neck and tore out his jugular.

Daryl couldn’t believe what he just saw, Rick unhinged and willing to do anything to protect his own.

They killed the other men, left them in the road and rested until morning.

Rick was sitting on the ground, back against the car, still covered in blood. Daryl poured a little water on a rag and handed it to him.

“We should save that to drink.” Rick said.

“You can’t see yourself, he can.” Daryl nodded toward Carl in the car. Daryl sat down next to him while he cleaned his face. “I didn’t know what they were.” he said sadly.

“How’d you end up with them?”

Daryl looked down at his lap. “I was with Beth. We got out together. I was with her for a while.”

There was a pause of silence until Rick asked if she was dead. Daryl shook his head and said she was just gone. He told him how he ended up with the Claimers, how they were looking for some guy, how he’d almost left them, but didn’t.

“That’s when I saw it was you three, right when you saw me.” His voice was sad and low. “I didn’t know what they could do.”

“It’s not on you, Daryl.” Rick took his hand. “You bein’ back here with us now, that’s everything.”

This was the first bit of physical contact they’d had since the prison. Daryl finally felt warm, even with how much he hurt after being beaten half to death, Rick’s hand on his was everything he needed right now.

“I love you,” Rick said quietly. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

Daryl nodded, and gave his hand a squeeze. Rick said it, but Daryl could tell he was still shaken up.

“Hey, what you did last night; Anybody would’ve done that.” he said reassuringly.

“No, not that.” Rick replied. Now he looked like he was trying to hold himself together. Rick had gotten violent before, but it was always to protect someone. His family was in danger and he saved them. “It ain’t all of it, but that’s me.”

Daryl knew how sad he looked, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re a good man. You protect your own,” Daryl lowered his voice a bit. “You’re the person I fell in love with, no matter what you do.”

Rick leaned into him until his head was resting on Daryl’s shoulder. Daryl kissed the top of his head and squeezed his hand.

They made it through Terminus. They made it through Grady hospital. They had most of the group back.

They lost Beth.

Daryl barely spoke the entire time they walked towards Washington. His family was there for him, and gave him enough space at the same time. Now that they had more people, Rick was busy leading all of them. Daryl knew it wasn’t his fault, but they began to drift apart. Things were rough, until they found Alexandria. Rick became constable, and had been making friends --and enemies-- all over. Most people respected him, but Daryl felt so out of place.

Rick had spent two nights at Daryl’s house, making sure to not draw attention to themselves. They had sex that night, but it was different. Rick was there with him, of course, but it almost felt sad. Like it was the last time they would be like this. They fit together so well before, but after all this time apart and everything they went through, they were different people.

The next night, they didn’t even fuck. They physically slept together, but that was it. Daryl had been wanting to have this conversation for a while, but he obviously didn’t want to do it after sex.

“Are you good?” Daryl asked as they lay next to each other.

Rick had his elbow on the pillow and rested his face in his hand as he turned towards Daryl. “I’m good. Are you?”

Daryl shrugged. “Feels like things are different. With us.”

Rick nodded solemnly. “I’ve had a lot goin’ on. I’m sorry I haven’t made time for us.”

Daryl shook his head. “Don’t feel bad. You’re doing so much good for everyone.” Daryl sat up then, wrapping his arms around his knees. “I know you’ve been eyeing Jessie. I noticed it almost the moment we got here.”

Rick sat up and put his hand on his shoulder. “I would never, ever do anything to hurt you. Nothing has ever happened with her.”

“I know,” Daryl said sadly. “But I get it. I ain’t the last person on earth.”

“Daryl, I know there’s still people out there, but I made the choice to be with you, you’re not just some guy.” Rick said firmly, but Daryl heard his voice falter. “You’re not just some option.”

“I love you,” Daryl said quietly. “I’ve always loved you and I always will. But I don’t want to hold you back. I’ll always be here for you when you need me, I’ll always do anything for you.”

Rick’s voice cracked. “But?”

Daryl finally looked at him and took in the heartbreak on his face. “But I need to let you go. I want you to be happy, and I’m not what makes you happy anymore.”

Rick looked like the wind had been knocked out of him, but after a moment Daryl could tell he was done denying the truth.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I never wanted to make you feel like you weren’t important. I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Daryl took Rick into his arms and kissed the top of his head. “At least stay tonight?”

“Of course,” Rick said. “Anything for you.”

It took a few weeks before Daryl’s heart stopped feeling like it was going to fall into his stomach every time he saw Rick. He knew Rick had kissed Jessie, and he knew that it never turned into anything more. He stayed on the edges of Rick’s life, trying to keep a little bit of distance so he didn’t die from pining after his lost love.

When they did end up going on a run together, it felt like old times. Not like nothing romantic had ever happened, but that comfort he felt whenever he was with Rick. He missed his best friend, and he was starting to be okay with that being all they were.

That’s when they met Jesus. Daryl was annoyed with him immediately, but he fought back this nagging feeling of attraction. He didn’t trust the guy, and he certainly didn’t want him around his home. But little by little, Jesus started to grow on him. Before Daryl knew it, they were working together a lot more, and they worked together well. He hadn’t felt this way ever; his feelings for Rick were completely different. Jesus was not only charismatic and caring, but he was out and proud. Daryl had had one sexual relationship with a man who was openly gay, before everything went to shit, but it was still before Daryl had come out. He pushed his feelings to the back of his mind, not wanting to think about what another heartbreak would do to him at this point.

The Hilltop was bustling with activity. Everyone was doing some sort of work; laundry or farming or building something. Daryl was making new arrows on the Barrington House porch, and Rick was beside him lacing his boots and waiting for Maggie to come by. She and Rick had some sort of business to discuss between the two communities.

“First nice day we’ve had in a while,” Rick said, pushing his curls out of his face. “You goin’ hunting before the party tonight?”

“Yeah, gonna try and bring back something big.” Daryl nodded. “I don’t know what you mean, though. ‘S fuckin’ hot.”

Rick laughed. “Maybe if you didn’t wear a leather vest everywhere.”

Daryl rolled his eyes and went back to his arrows. He eventually felt Rick nudge him, and when he looked up he saw Jesus and Maggie down the street walking towards them.

“Y’know, I think he likes you.” Rick said.

Daryl looked at him and scoffed. Rick was trying to wingman for him now, great.

Daryl looked back in Jesus’ direction. He did actually have a little bit of a crush on the guy; he was a good goddamn fighter, but still a gentle, caring person. He certainly wasn’t hard on the eyes, either.

“Hey,” Jesus greeted them as they walked onto the sidewalk.

“Rick, you ready?” Maggie asked.

Rick stood up and patted Daryl on the shoulder. “Ready. Hey, Jesus, you busy today?”

Jesus shrugged. “No, not really. Do you need something?”

“Yeah,” Rick said, the smile undeniable in his voice. Daryl knew exactly what was about to happen, fuck. “Daryl’s goin’ huntin’ today. Trying to have enough food for the party tonight and then some, couldn’t hurt to have an extra pair of hands.”

Jesus smiled. “Yeah, absolutely.”

Rick nodded and walked off the porch and off with Maggie.

“Bye, Daryl!” Maggie threw Daryl a smirk over her shoulder. This was a goddamn conspiracy, Daryl knew it.

“So, when were you planning on heading out?” Jesus asked.

Daryl cleared his throat and pushed his hair out of his face. “Probably twenty minutes? Gotta finish these arrows and then I’m ready.”

“Cool, I’ll grab my stuff and meet you back here?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, that works.”

Jesus walked toward his trailer and Daryl watched after him the whole way. Jesus definitely liked him as a friend at least, they had started staying closer to each other during missions, often opting to work together. They made a good team, and Rick definitely noticed, putting them together on jobs a lot more recently.

It had been a good hunt, Daryl and Jesus hauled back a deer and a few squirrels. When they were done there was about an hour before the party started. They started walking toward Barrington House so Daryl could get changed and Jesus and Maggie could catch up on the day.

“Y’know, I’m kind of excited for tonight.” Jesus said optimistically. “I never used to be the party type, but this feels more...I don’t know, comfortable, I guess.”

Daryl nodded. “Parties are different when they’re with family.”

“I don’t know, you seem like a total party animal.” Jesus nudged him and Daryl smirked back at him.

They walked into the house and said hi to Rick in the foyer.

Jesus started heading up the stairs and turned to Daryl. “I’ll find you at the party later.”

“See you then.” Daryl said back, and watched Jesus disappear into Maggie’s office.

“Hey, you’re gonna get drool on the floor if you don’t stop now,” Rick teased. Daryl snapped out of it and turned toward him.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” Daryl huffed.

“Yeah, you do.” Rick smiled. “I know that look on you, Daryl. Remember?”

He shook his head and laughed under his breath. “Shut up, Grimes.”

The party was really, really nice. Everyone was gathered around a bonfire and there were tables of food setup all around. It was homey, and full of community. Daryl leaned against a tree and looked out over the crowd.

“Hey,” Jesus walked up to him then. He looked nice with his hair down as opposed to the bun he put it in when they were hunting. Even with the bun he looked good, which annoyed Daryl to no end. You couldn’t look that good all the time, it wasn’t fair.

“Hi,” Daryl replied. “How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good, it was nice to shower after today. It really is too hot for that trenchcoat.” Jesus shook his head.

Daryl shrugged. “Could just get a vest.”

Jesus smiled. “Maybe. Yours does look pretty nice.”

“I bet it’d look nice on you,” Daryl smirked. “Too bad we’ll never know.”

“Harsh,” Jesus nudged him.

They joined the party once more, until the kids started to go to bed. The adults stuck around for a while, and everyone was still drinking and eating and having fun. After drinking a good amount of whiskey, Daryl and Jesus had a slight buzz going on. They were laughing together, maybe even flirting a bit, which Daryl didn’t normally know how to do, but with Jesus it was just easy.

Jesus turned to him at one point, and it was like everyone else fell away. He saw Jesus look at his lips, then look away quickly.

“Wanna go drink some more at my place?” he asked. Daryl would’ve been nervous, but the liquid courage helped with that. He was pretty sure he knew what this meant, why Jesus wanted to be alone with him.

“Yeah, I do.”

Back at the trailer, Jesus got two cups and poured some more whiskey for them. He handed Daryl a glass and took a sip of his own. They sat on the couch, Jesus sitting against the arm so he could face Daryl.

“That was pretty fun,” Jesus said. “Felt...normal.”

“Whatever that means,” Daryl sipped his drink. “But yeah, it was nice.”

“I’m glad you’re around more,” Jesus said after a few moments. “It’s really nice getting to see you.”

Daryl blushed and drank a good amount of his whiskey and put it on the table.

“I like bein’ around.” Daryl’s voice was low and gravelly, the alcohol relaxing him. “I like bein’ around you.”

Jesus was the one to blush now, but he seemed a little more confident. They were sitting closer together now, one of them could easily lean in to close the space. Jesus did, after a second of contemplating, and his lips were as soft as Daryl had imagined. Daryl pushed back a bit more, deepening the kiss, and one of his hands instinctively went to Jesus’ hip. Jesus put his hand on the back of Daryl’s neck, holding him there. Jesus pulled away first, putting his forehead against Daryl’s as they breathed each other in.

“Thank god,” Jesus laughed under his breath. “I wasn’t sure if that was going to go well.”

Daryl raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes at Jesus. What was that supposed to mean? Did he expect the kiss to be bad?

“No! I mean—“ he put his hand on Daryl’s cheek and looked sincerely into his eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you liked me back. I didn’t know if you’d want me to kiss you or if it was going to freak you out.”

Daryl couldn’t fight the small grin on his face. “I’m glad you did. I didn’t know if you wanted it.”

“Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page now.” Jesus smiled, and for the first time in a long time, Daryl felt like something was going right.

[blissfulalchemist]

Chance/Faith - ‘  what  did  you  dream  of?  ’

Hello there once again! I do hope that you enjoy this short piece!

tw for drug use and mention. also for my dumb tongue in cheek jokes.

just under 2k

There’s something to be said about the peace that comes with sitting on the roof of some building. Hell just being up high always had its appeal to Chance, it was the coming down that left him sick. Maybe not the act of falling itself, that also provided some peace, but finding yourself back on the ground. The reality of being present, alive, stopped being fun the moment he had nothing but coming to his knees at the mere thought of them….of all that he had lost. Being grounded was overrated. Being grounded was pain. Being grounded was accepting the truth….something Chance had never been very good at.

To be high, in the sky, drunk enough to no longer keep steady on the ground….that was freedom….happiness. Even if it was set to kill him sooner than people wanted. 

Catching the black smoke rising in the distance he smirks, giving a shake of his head, it’s the fourth one he can spot looking over the border of the Valley and Hebane. The gunfire Chance can just barely make out in the distance has him leaning back letting the sun warm the skin he’s sure is starting to look red rather than sunkissed. He probably should have stuck to the drinking after being arrested, he probably would have gotten another year of life. He definitely wouldn’t be in the middle of some war he never wanted to start or even end if he was being honest. 

He takes a deep breath catching the hints of memories from when he was a teenager dying in the tight black clothing on this same roof in the height of summer. Back then Chance was just starting to experiment with drinking more and smoking weed while he dated some daughter of a successful real estate agent from New York, her hair the same color as Rachel’s. The eyes were a straight blue and her voice was a bit too gruff, she blamed it on always yelling for a taxi in the big city, and she was too self centered. It was only her hair that he liked.

Chance huffs, sitting up as he pulls out the stolen joint letting it find a place between his lips, testing the lighter once before he settles himself more. According to Hurk the joint was filled with some of the best weed in the world and how he saved it before some guy named Jason burned the whole farm down. Of course Jason was someone that Hurk met while out in Malaysia and really Chance should have been there to take down some guy that could almost rival Joesph in the crazy department. The exaggeration of the story Hurk had weaved for Chance still makes him chuckle, even now as he takes a drag letting the smoke sit in his lungs and envelop his tongue for a minute. 

He let’s the smoke circle around him, closing his eyes, the high kicking in almost as fast as the Bliss does. “At least you’re right about it being some of the best,” Chance mumbles, bringing a knee up to rest his arm on while he watches over the activity he can’t really see. He’s about halfway through the joint when he feels someone watching him from below. Chance leans over catching the glimmer of her light brown hair, golden in the afternoon sun, before her blue-green eyes smile at him. “You’re pretty far out for just some casual stroll, don’t you think?” 

He smirks as Faith rolls her eyes playfully, “Could say the same about you, Chance,” she tilts her head, looking to the stairs of crates leading to the roof, “Mind if I join you?”

Chance shrugs, letting out the latest drag, “Long as you can promise Jarhead or Gaston Wannabe aren’t waiting in the treeline to take me in.”

Faith begins the climb up the crates shaking her head, “Now why would I do that?” She smoothes out the skirt of the white lace of her dress, sitting next to him, taking the joint from his fingertips, “I don’t really like sharing you as it is.”

He watches her for a moment, taking in the way her hair shifts from brown to blonde at the whims of the breeze blowing, how her lips curve in a small smile as she inhales the smoke, and her eyes closing for a moment before handing the joint back to him. His heart tugs towards her, the suspicions he’s been having coming to the forefront of his mind. She can’t really be the same girl, there was no way. Tracey didn’t know Rachel like he does….did. Like he did. Seeing Faith like this though….Chance can’t help but see an older version of Rachel from that high school photo when she was a freshman, the last picture anyone had of her. He shakes the thoughts from his head, it was all probably a lingering hallucination from Bliss. Why wouldn’t it be possible for it to show you someone that you really wanted?

“What are you thinking about,” her voice pulls him back to the roof, the smile she wears before laughing, “Anyone home up there?”

He laughs in return, “This stuff really does live up to the hype it was given.”

Faith hums, leaning back on her hands, “So what did it make you think about?”

“The past,” Chance mutters, flicking the ash off, “This place brings back too many memories.”

“What kind of memories?” She asks sweetly.

“Summers up here, people I’ll probably never see again,” he says, balancing the joint between his lips as he searches for his phone, “Nothing special really.”

He lets out an a-ha finding it in his pocket, “Those people you think you’ll never see again,” Faith starts, Chance giving a nod for her to continue as he searches through the playlists, “Can I ask who they are?”

Chance settles on a song by Ghost, letting the music fill the silence while he takes what will be one of the last drags of this joint. He mulls over the answer as the smoke fills his lungs once more, passing the rest of it to Faith. “A girl.” Faith slides her gaze towards him slowly, “One of the few reasons I would have the possibility of being more comfortable with this place.”

“She an old girlfriend?”

“No,” he shook his head, “Just an old pipe dream.”

The silence falls quickly, Chance letting it stay for the length of a song, gripping for something lighter to talk about with her. She lets her head rest on his shoulder, fingers becoming entwined with his, “We’ve heard rumors about you, Chance.”

His heart rate slows after the initial surprise of her touch, his free hand closing over her chilled fingers, “If they’re from Gossip Girl, take it with a grain of salt.”

She laughs, giving a light slap on his chest, “Be nice. John’s not that bad once you get to know him.”

He rolls his eyes, “I’ll keep that in mind next time he’s got me strapped down and a knife to my throat.”

“But seriously though, many of the locals say that this wasn’t your first choice of a career.”

“I don’t think being the pawn in some supposed prophecy is anyone’s first choice in a career.”

“You’d be surprised actually,” Chance arches a brow at her response, “Again though can you let me finish?”

“Don’t I always?” He smirks, ”Thought you said that was my best quality.”

Faith groans, “Chance! Focus,” she takes a deep breath shifting to better lay against him, “What did you dream of being when you were younger?”

“Pfft, you seriously want to know that?” She nods, “Why?”

“Curiosity,” she states.

“Will you tell me yours?”

Faith thinks for a moment, tracing the tattoos on his hands, “Only if you tell me the truth.”

Chance lets out a sigh, keeping his eyes focused on the open space before him, “I wanted to be like Dad,” Rachel would have known that. “Your turn.”

“We didn’t have any dreams,” she giggles, the tone contrasting with the weight of what she’s just said, “What was the point when there wasn’t a chance we’d get anywhere close to them.”

“Something to aspire to,” he offers, “Keep you going. Keep you living.”

“Do you still have that dream? Wanting to be like your father?” Her voice flows almost like a song, drawing him in each time. There’s some resistance from him today as it feels almost inappropriate with their conversation.

“Sure. I was on my way once before,” he shrugs, “Why couldn’t that happen again?”

Her eyes are big, taking in every movement in his face and eyes, there’s a tingle along his skin the longer she stays looking at him like that. It doesn’t feel bad, but it also wasn’t the one he wanted to be feeling with her this close. Finally she blinks slowly, the shadow of her smile persisting as she looks at him now with such care, “Then why haven’t you felt like living in a long time?” 

Chance jerks away, staring her down, heart pounding in his ears, “The fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m not suicidal.” He moves away from her shaking his head, jaw tight, “I just like to have fun. That’s it.”

“No one doubts that, Chance,” she stays in place, not even attempting to reach for him like she’s done before, “There’s just this….emptiness inside of you. We can feel it. Can understand it.”

“So?” She’s finally positioned herself to have the dark evergreens as a backdrop for her face.

“You can be helped and we can do that, Chance,” she urged softly, “You took help once before, what makes taking help from us so different?”

“Hilarious. I’ve given you multiple speeches on why that is.” Why is she being so pushy all of a-, A flicker of light dances just above her hair, much like a firefly and easier to see with the darker colors against her, Of course. He exhales sharply, “I’d remind you once more but,” Stupid. I knew she’d never have been this far out, he thinks, readying himself to leave, “ghosts don’t really remember unless it suits them anyway.”

“Chance wait,” they call out, crawling across the roof once he’s jumped down from it, “Come back. We can talk again. Just you and me.”

“Nice try!” He barks out, eyes cast down as his fingers work to untangle the headphones enough to get him back to the road, “I’m not coming back. Not going to fall for it again.” He finally has the earbuds in place, turning to point at the figment of his desire, “Not today Siren! Not today!” The woods are replaced by the screams of a man who’s fallen for someone he shouldn’t have. Her lips….my poison….How stupid could I be trying to pursue her?, He ground his teeth, nails digging into his palms as he mouthed the lyrics, I can’t even tell when she’s real….Just like they planned her to be. 

That was the worst part of being sucked into the hell hole of Bliss, you saw who and what you wanted and they were always idyllic, making it too tempting to stay. Chance slowed, seeing a field of white coming straight at him. Tracey had said she and Faith were friends once upon a time and maybe they were or maybe, just like with him, the drugs made her think it was her old friend. Someone long dead and gone to her. It just makes her look like how Rachel probably would. Nothing more. The one person that could make Hope County more bearable for him….The one mistake he could have fixed after all this time.

[sammisweets143]

A New Family Member (OC x Hunter)

Summary: The Bad Batch and Jedi General Sienna Nellock have just gotten off of the Ordo Moon and are in Hyperspace. Sienna is having difficulties coping with her place amongst the batch since she no longer has the Jedi (her family) and she feels out of place with the clone squad. Hunter decides to make her an official member and act on his feelings toward her.

Pairings: Hunter and Sienna (My OC)

OC Description: Sienna has several braids that are pulled into a ponytail fit for any Viking warrior (think Lagertha from Vikings). She also has the same plastiod armor the Clones and Bad Batch have, hers of course are the slate grey/black. She no longer uses her lightsaber, instead she uses a blaster and a knife, just like Hunter.

TW: Wholesomeness, Steamy kiss scene, feelings of not belonging, *I think that about sums everything up*

Notes: I am still learning the steamy/love scenes between characters if any creators have advice I’d love to hear it!

There was a quietness on the ship after take off from the Ordo Moon. Sienna rather enjoyed it.

It was the first time in awhile she’d actually gotten to meditate without interruption from anyone. She sat in the copilot’s chair, releasing a calming breath as she centered herself.

The force flowed through her almost immediately, letting her feel the entire ship’s energy in her grasp. From Omega’s bubbly and energetic spirit to Echo’s hard yet kind spirit, everything was in her grasp again and that made her feel better. It was hard not letting the force in due to the fear of being discovered by the enemy. What if someone knew she was still alive and came for her? For the Bad Batch?

No sooner had she began to feel at peace, a presence she was all too familiar with entered the atmosphere. With her heightened senses she heard him coming first then when he entered the cockpit she smelled the familiar clean yet smoky fragrance he had to him.

“There you are, I was wondering where you’d gone off to,” Hunter’s smoky voice reached her ears as he sat in the pilot’s chair. “You’ve been unusually quite.”

There weren’t many places she could go to unless she released herself out of the airlock. No matter how hard she had tried, Sienna had managed to lose her grip on her control with him. He was forbidden fruit and she wanted nothing more than to have him. For several days now they’d been flirting, they even flirted when they first met, everything was innocent of course, up until recently. Their desire for each other was growing, and Sienna ached for the one thing she’d been told all her life she couldn’t have, attachment to someone.

When she had first met Hunter and the group it was when they were going on a covert mission to the Cyber Center and then to save Echo from Skako Minor. There was an instant connection, almost a magnetic pull between them. They both did their best to ignore the feeling, each having their loyalties set on their duties as Jedi and Clone Trooper.

What didn’t help them was when he’d kept her steady with his hand on her back or waist, or when the shuttle went down and his arm locked around her and she was pressed against his front. I got you, I got you. He repeated in her ear as if it was a promise, he wouldn’t let her go even if it killed them.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Hunter pressed on when she didn’t respond to him the first time.

“I shouldn’t have left Saleucami with you. I should’ve got on that shuttle like you told me to,” Sienna said, before she could even stop the words from spilling out of her mouth. When she uttered them it felt as though they hit him right in the face.

“I thought you wanted to?” His features hardened. “You fought me on this and I-“ he stopped as he could sense she wasn’t acting right. “Hey, you are just as important as any of us.” He knelt down in front of her.

“I’m not one of you, I just don’t feel like I belong.” She said. “I’m not a clone, I’m a Jedi. What use am I?”

He nodded as he looked at her. “Okay.” He stood up. “Stay.” He pointed at her and went to retrieve something from a cabinet. He came back and sealed the cockpit so it was just the two of them. “Come here.” He knelt down again and pulled her closer and turned her so her shoulder was to him.

“What are you doing?” She asked as he was grabbing her and moving her.

“Quiet.”

“Hunter.”

“Sienna, I said be quiet. This takes concentration,” he looked at her with a hint of playfulness in his eyes. She rarely got to see that look from him anymore.

He opened one of the container and it was white paint. “Don’t move,” he ordered as he began to paint on her pauldron.

She did as she was told and didn’t move, so she took the moment to look at him, really look at him. The side of his face that wasn’t tattooed had a light dusting of stubble, the other side did too but this side was visible. His lashes were long, and when he blinked they’d dust across his cheeks gently.

As her gaze swept over him she seemed to fall deeper into the trance that was Hunter. All caution was out the window now, anything could happen. And anything did. She found herself reaching up gently to stroke his cheek as he focused on painting, the tiny stubble barely poking at her finger tips. It was one of the most simplest, yet intimate things both had experienced that they let the quiet moment consume them for what seemed like forever.

“Tell me about your tattoos on your back,” He finally said, needing a distraction. “What’s special about them?”

She cleared her throat and took a breath. “I got them because on each planet or moon was where I learned something.” She said.

“Tell me about your favorite one.” He prompted her.

“Sorgan.” a little smile graced her lips as she recalled the memory. “The children there loved to race and play, they were part of this family that owned a farm,” she began. “The mother was so kind and she had a new born with her but she always managed to be doing something strenuous and that benefited her family and community with the child strapped to her.”

“Sounds like quite the woman.” He nodded. For a brief moment he pictured her doing the same thing. She rarely rested since she’d been with them, and she doted on Omega. She never let that girl out of her sight if she could help it, much like himself.

“I also just fell in love with the planet itself. They say it’s just some backwater planet but it’s so beautiful. I’d live there if I could.”

Another picture pushed its way into his mind, of them on that little plant in the middle of nowhere with a farm of their own, a couple of kids running around, maybe his brothers not too far away. He quickly pushed that thought down so not to get ahead of himself. Hunter chuckled some. “Tell me another.” He coaxed.

“Kashyyk, I learned how to shoot a crossbow,” She smiled and bit her lip. “Very fun, and I met several force sensitive Wookiees.”

“Really, interesting.” He smirked as he dipped the brush into the paint again. “A Wookiee with a lightsaber seems unsettling. Could be just like Wrecker with a lightsaber, imagine.”

Sienna let out a small laugh. “They’re very skilled with weapons surprisingly. May I continue sergeant?”

“By all means, General,” he all but purred that statement before resuming his painting.

“Kamino, like I said is where I learned friendship, thanks to 99.” She said. “Well and Rex and the rest of the guys.” She shrugged a little.

“Don’t-” he grabbed her shoulders and chuckled some. “You’ll make me smudge it.”

“Sorry,” She laughed. “Um, let’s see, I actually was dared by Echo to get Endore on me but since it’s a forest planet I didn’t mind.”

“Seems to be your theme, forests and oceans.”

“They call to me the most,” a sigh left her lips, but it was a sigh of relief. “I often wonder if that’s where I’m from, someplace with a forest or water.” She said

“You don’t know where you’re from?” The lines on Hunter’s face settled into a deep frown as he asked her that question.

“I was a toddler when I was given to the temple, I wasn’t told where I was from.” Her voice became gentle, as if she spoke too loud the memories of her past may break. “I’ve come to peace with it.” Her opposite shoulder rose into a shrugged. “Not knowing where your home is I guess is good, so you don’t know if it’s a bad place.” She bit her lip. Sure she said she came to peace with it but occasionally there was a part of her that yearned to know her parents, her home. All the trivial things that many great Jedi were willing to part with.

When Hunter looked up at her he realized she was watching his face. He set the brush down in the container and held her hands. “Your home is with us, you are Sienna Nellock of Squad 99.” He said. “You’ll never be told differently.” He released her hands and then cupped her face being as gentle as he could. “You are here to protect Omega, be a role model for her. You are here to reassure Wrecker that eventually he may be able to blow things up or beat someone up. You are here to make sure Echo isn’t a grump to everyone since he favors you, and to give Tech something new to talk about besides manuals and random plants. Most importantly, you’re here to keep me sane, drive me wild, and make me strive to protect this squad even harder.” His voice was soft as he recited his speech, stroking her cheek with his thumb after each declaration.

Sienna’s pulse jumped as he held her face and spoke to her in the gentlest of ways he’s ever done. “That’s one of the best things that’s come out of your mouth ever. Thank you, Hunter.”

He smirked and pulled her closer. “You have such a way with words,” his voice got slightly huskier as his lips brushed against hers. He was taking a big risk doing this, but he wanted Sienna to know how important she was not just to the squad, but to him.

When his lips touched her’s, that caused her brows to furrow as her eyes closed. This was unexpected but she welcomed it none the less. They weren’t what she expected, his lips, she had expected them to be dry from constantly wearing a helmet but they were actually soft. Returning the kiss was almost instinctual for her, as if she’d done it hundreds of times before. She gripped the back of his neck and pulled him close, causing him to let out a low, hungry grunt, at that point it was the most attractive noise she’d ever heard and she didn’t care about anything else.

Hunter pulled away, wanting nothing more than to keep kissing her but their need for air plus his need to keep a handle on everything took precedence. “So, that’s what it’s like to kiss a jedi?” He smirked.

“You know, I imagined kissing a clone would be weird, like I’d be kissing a friend since you all are the same-” She began.

“But?”

“I suppose since you are genetically defective that might make you better at kissing.” She joked and smiled.

A chuckle escaped his lips as he picked up the paint brush again. “Almost done with this, be still,” He said as he moved her chair so she was turned to the other side.

“Yes sir.” She said as she rolled her eyes. They sat in a comfortable silence as he finished painting her other pauldron and he leaned back, admiring his work.

“Alright, have a look.” He said and smiled.

The excitement built up in her as she looked down at her right pauldron and it was the Jedi crest but adorning each peak was the skull of Clone Force 99. Then on the left was the signature skull with 99 below it. “Hunter,” Sienna smiled. “I love them, thank you.”

“You’re a certified member of the Bad Batch now,” Hunter smirked. “This armor definitely suits you even more than before, I’ll be the first one to admit that.”

Sienna laughed and smiled. “Hunter,” she shoved him playfully. Before she could go anywhere he grabbed her hands pulling her against his chest.

“Would you prefer it if I said I’d rather see it on the floor?” A smirk grew on his face.

“Well, it wouldn’t be the first time something like that came from you,” she mimicked his expression as she pulled him closer. “We’re alone for at least another hour-” she reminded as she stared at him with a new found desire in her eyes.

“Say no more,” he silenced her with a kiss and picked her up, securing her legs around his waist tightly.

A breathy laugh escaped her lips as she pulled away momentarily for air. This was the first time she was able to touch him, memorize his facial feature, run her fingers through his silky, dark hair, and look into his eyes without the feeling of being watched by an audience. He gave her very little time before he pulled her back and hungrily kissed her, letting his tongue explore her mouth. He kept a firm grip on her thighs, keeping her as close as psychically possible. Occasionally, he’d give them a squeeze to make sure this was real, she was real. Like her, he felt like this was their chance to do anything they wanted, no interruptions. The final question, where was he going to start?

[jonahintwstmchybridau]

“I’m not a chicken!” *insert Donald Duck grumbling here*

Jonah the Avian

-Basic Information-

Name: Jonah Argentum

Age: 16

Gender: Male

Date of Birth: 31st October

Status: Alive

Hometown: Leaf Village

A small town underneath the Spring Cherry Mountain. The place is rich with green, luscious trees and the soil is perfect for ranching. The villagers living in this place are quite friendly and very welcoming. Jonah lives in a small vegetable farm three hours away from farm. Despite the hospitality, the villagers isn’t fully on-board with hybrids. As long as hybrids hide their traits, the villagers will tolerate them.

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-Hybrid Information-

Hybrid: Avian - Duck wings

You're a chicken. If you fall, you can glide to safety and you run slightly faster than the average human. However, you need to sleep in high places (so your home is a birdhouse) and you are bound to veganism.

Additional Power: Hasn’t discover anything new yet.

Weapon(s) of Choice: He wouldn’t consider his farming tools (axe, hoe, sickle, hammer) as a weapon. As the story progress, he found a bow and started using it, practicing as the archer.

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-Appearance-

Eye Color: Black

Hair Color: Cocoa-red with a bit of dolly-yellow on a few strands.

Hair Length: Pretty long, even the braids still reach just above his hips. He also has an ahoge on top of his head.

Skin Tone: Brown

Height: 157 cm

Weight: 51 kg

Wardrobe: Despite being a farmer, Jonah looks more like a pilot. He wears a white shirt with camouflage long-sleeve underneath a marigold-yellow short-sleeved jacket, along with camouflage pants. Around his neck is a cocoa-red scarf with a single with line and a tan goggles on top of his head.

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-Personality-

Jonah, at his core, is a nice guy, however he has a hard time to showing it after years being told to be careful around humans. He’s hot-headed and would argue even when he doesn’t understand the full detail of the problems. He wouldn’t back down without a fight and would always believe in what he thinks is right, making him a bit stubborn in nature. 

Contrast to what people believe, Jonah is a good listener. While he tried his best not to get to close, he’s willing to lend an ear and listen to people woes. Bonds is a very precious and fragile thing for him.  He doesn’t want to be called clingy, but he adores touches. Physical affections like hair ruffle or just a simple pat on the shoulders, he adores them. In exchange, once you’re close enough, he would often cups his hands around someone’s cheeks and gives praise. When he got very attached to someone, he would be the most loyal person you could ever find. When the time comes, he’s willing to fight anyone who dare to bother those who he cares. He isn’t the type to seek revenge, but he won’t forget what they had done.

He also has an insecurities inside him. He’s sometimes see himself as something less, especially being an avian among the others, more powerful hybrids. He might feel useless from the lack of special talent and afraid of being the burden in the gang. He hates it when he can’t do anything during the battle because of his lacking fighting experience. That’s why he tried to get too attached. It would hurt less if one day the gang decides to kick him out.

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-Background-

Jonah is born from the pair Benjamin Argentum (human) and Dinah Goldstein (avian hybrid). Benjamin’s parent weren’t the most accepting with hybrid, so the two young lovers often meet in secret. It was until one day Dinah showed up without her duck wings, claiming that she was willing to give up her duck wings in order to be with Benjamin, Thus they got married and moved away to Leaf Village.

However, it seemed that the pain of the wing cutting resurface, leading Dinah to her death after giving birth to Jonah, who grew feathers on his back. He’s also a hybrid, an avian. Benjamin raised Jonah as a single father, calling him ‘little duckling’. They’re always wary when going to the village despite them being nice. Jonah had been taught to not ever show his wings when he go to the village. Because of his avian trait, which means he can’t eat meat, Jonah was taught how to farm and cook by his father.

However, one day, when his father went out to chop some wood, a storm hit and a tree came crashing down, killing him. Jonah was an orphan. Even when the village (who still doesn’t know about his hybrid blood) offer him a place to stay, he decline, saying that the farm needs someone to take care.

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-Relationship-

Benjamin Argentum

Father and son. Jonah is very close to his father who raised him by himself after his mother died in child birth. His father taught him everything. He was destroyed when his father died, however he quickly pick himself up and take care of the farm, his only inheritance. 

The Villagers of Leaf Village

Close acquaintance but Jonah learn not to get too close, afraid that they will find out his wings. One day, he heard some town folks gossiping their disdain to hybrids, which made Jonah wary as he is an avian. He isn’t that close to the kids his age because of that and only come to the village when he need to stock-up or festivals

The Hybrid Kids Gang in General

Partner in travel and his second family. He’s very comfortable with them despite being the only two boys there. Relaxed that he can spread his tiny wings without worrying of getting shun at. Though sometimes, he felt ashamed how the girls can fight better than him. He personally request one of them to teach him in archery, so he ca fight along side them.

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-Like & Dislike-

Like:

Trees

Jonah loves climbing tree despite being a duck. He would often take a nap up in the tree, not really worry about falling down because he can just slow-fall/glide .

No-Mayo Potato Salad

Potato salad is his comfort food and would eat at least once a week every weekend. Because being an avian means he’s a vegetarian, he can’t eat mayonnaise. 

Swimming

He’s a duck, being in a pond is a basic need for him. In addition, his wings has the characteristic of duck wings so it can’t get wet.

Dislike:

Being Useless

Jonah would often try to do something. He just can’t stay silent even for a minute. It make him feel useless and a burden.

Meat

Just don’t eat meat in front of him. It’s very disrespectful.

Being called Chicken

And just don’t call him chicken. He’s a duck, dammit!

.

.

-Trivia-

Because his lack of fighting skill, he make it up as the (future) emotional support of the team and travelling-cook.

When he’s angry, his voice become higher and sounds more like Donald Duck.

When he’s going out from his house, he would be wearing a cape to hide his wings.

He found the bow and arrow when the gang were once again chased, deciding to learn how to fight.

In the middle of the story, he cuts his hair, symbolizing his want grow in defending himself, not wanting to be a burden to the team and learning to trust people.

He’s pretty content with his life before the start of his story, however as he travels, learns new things he never thought of before, and bonds with the others, Jonah doesn’t really want to go back to the silent, albeit peaceful, times. He still wants a peaceful farm life, but he wants to share it with his friends. It wasn’t so lonely now. So, he doesn’t mind if they go on another journey as long as they’re together.

[lovespelt]

Okay this is the last part with all the endings and after endings I’ve made up for this madness of Nomu Neito cause I’m crazy

Good ending: AFO and Neito duke it out and in the end of it, AFO is gone for good and Neito gets his memories back. The hero class makes up and they all welcome Neito back with open arms and many tears

After Ending: So years pass as Neito catches up with Izuku Hitoshi and Mei to become a hero like they said they would and he makes his name as the Phantom Angel now. He was absolutely fine refusing Eri’s offer to revert him back to how he used to be. It’s all fine but Neito still feels like there’s something he’s missing in his life and doesn’t know what it is until he finds a trafficking ring with kids in tow and just acts out. He finds the hole he had filled when he sees these kids smiling at being saved and can’t help but care for each one of them. (Totally not Neito becoming a dad to like 20 kids and being Aizawa 2.0). And he finally feels complete when he sees the poor kids he saved that he saw himself in finally get the lives they wanted and become heroes just like him.

Neutral Ending: AFO is defeated, but it costs Neito his memories completely, including his memories as the Wicked Angel vigilante. He wakes up at the hospital not knowing a single thing and it’s then that they all see this as almost a second chance for him, but still hurting to know that he’s lost for good.

After ending: In his time in the hospital he got to know each of his friends again and even class A. Eventually he’s cleared and decides that he wants to live a simple life outside the city, leaving behind the dream he had with Izuku Hitoshi and Mei about being heroes for a smaller community. He pretty much makes a living on a farm and taking care of the children around and has his friends visit him from time to time. It still hurts them though knowing Neito will never come back to them fully, but they choose to endure it because he’s finally getting the peace that he deserves after the hell he went through.

Bad ending 1: This ending, AFO manages to get control of Neito one last time and keep his grip on him so much that they really do lose Neito from there. None of them want to face the truth but they know that it would help Neito in the end. And so Neito dies by their hand and AFO is defeated. But none of them feel victory since it cost them the one person they had hoped would come back to them.

Bad ending 2 because I’m a monster: So with AFO having difficulty getting a hold onto Neito, he breaks out through some means and gets together with the Doctor to take him again. And it’s this time they don’t hold back and they just turn him into the typical Nomu that is more of a deformed human. But in the last rush of whatever individuality he has, Neito fights back and kills AFO for good before the last of his life fades from his eyes. And all right before his friends arrive to see his body collapse and never come back up again.

After ending for both: So by now, years have passed since Neito died and everyone is now heroes. They’ve all had their moments where they couldn’t handle being too slow to save Neito and they’ve since then made up with each other to cherish their friend. But it’s one night that Hitoshi is out with Izuku that they find a small boy in an alley. He sees the two heroes and gets slowly coaxed out and he reveals that he’s afraid of his quirk (will get to that later in this post I promise) and he brings up a name neither of them thought they’d hear again

Neito

So as they’re bringing this boy to the station Izuku and Hitoshi start telling about their own friend Neito who had a weird quirk like his own and eventually found out this child really has nowhere to go and so take him with them to their shared place with Mei.

And when little Neito is cared for and sleeping he wakes up and happens to see a certain figure on the balcony that simply comes to him, kneels down, ruffles his hair and says...

“Keep an eye on them for me, ‘kay Neito?”

And before the figure walks out he says one last thing.

“Oh, and make sure to tell them: the Phantom Thief will always be watching you guys.”

And takes off, not being seen until much later for little Neito.

The morning comes and little Neito retells the story as they’re all in shock. And with the words from last night he asks if he can be a hero with his quirk, like the Phantom Thief. To which the 3 of them hug him like no tomorrow and say that he can.

The years pass as little Neito gets adopted to be Neito Midoriya-Shinsou Hatsume (cause she insisted he take her name since she was the last to meet him). His first birthday with his new family consisted of his 3 parents and 19 close aunts and uncles and 2 old retired great uncles. Little Neito becomes the Puppeteer Hero: Reap known by most as a savior for the children. Over the years he was always told of the different stories of Neito Monoma and eventually found out the ghost stalking him when Yanagi wasn’t around was him. The ghost eventually did leave one day with a simple parting and an affirmation that he’d do great, and since then visited the grave of the great Phantom Thief. And eventually comes the time when Reap becomes the best hero when Izuku Mei and Hitoshi all retire, all of them knowing Neito will do great things

And after all is said and done, the 3 find themselves somewhere where in the light, stand their long lost friend that simply says...

“You guys kept me waiting you know. I was so bored I had to keep busy by visiting that kid from time to time!”

It’s a reunion filled with tears and swollen hearts as they cry their eyes out. And when all is done, they hold each other’s hands and walk to the light, the story of 4 friends finally ending the heartbreak and suffering.

(You can see I put favoritism to this after ending)

Okay but here’s little Neito’s quirk for reference

Quirk: Possession. User can hop into another person’s body and control it as though it was their own or as a puppeteer and their puppet. The host must be conscious though for the user to take control of the body. The grip on the body is much stronger than if the user were to pull them with their physical body and are much faster when taking hold

[askintothevoids]

Writing for the First Time and Realizing My Life Sounds Like a Movie

TW: Death, dead animal, hateful feelings toward a person, bad feelings, sex mention (there’s like one), talking about cancer, and cheating on a spouse

It’s been a long year. I’m not super sure how old I am now. Roman and Remus were born 26 years ago, so… I was about twenty four when that happened.. So 50 something, I’ve never been good at math.

Yeah, god, the boys are 26 years old. I was sent into the void when they were about 14, I can’t even imagine dealing with secondary school after losing your mum. I know I couldn't have done it. I missed so much of their lives. I miss when life was simple.

My parents always urged me to get married, even if it wasn’t my soulmate. So one day I did. I married my friend, Jose, he was also gay. I didn’t find out that I was a lesbian until like around the time Agnes passed away. No, but, I really miss him. I knew him from kal, he was the only one who made it bearable. Jose was actually the one who got me into boxing, he was a really good guy. We got married, did the naked tango (neither of us cared for it) because we both wanted kids, I got pregnant with Roman and Remus, and then Jose got cancer.

Well, technically, he had it for a while. He got lung cancer from secondhand smoking, from an Aunt that lived with him. He didn’t know, he just thought that maybe he was just super allergic to something. It was awful. I saw my best friend deteriorate in front of me, he didn’t even get to meet the boys. They were born a week after he passed. Probably the hardest year of my life.

I remember I married Roman, my now ex-husband, on the same day my sons, Roman and Remus were born. He was just a guy friend from the gym, he needed a marriage to satisfy his parents, so ya know.

Life sucked for the next year, as much as I love my little prince and duke, they were a handful as babies. I dug myself out of my grave, I started to do farm work, I picked up Opera once more. Life picked up a little, I made money from my talent, and helped keep up the farm. It was great taking care of the boys. Roman loved the musical arts as much as I did, and Remus loved punching things as much as I did.

I remember that I helped out with one of the cows who were giving birth. I brought Roman in afterwards, he was about 5 or 6 at the time. I introduced him to the calf, she was brown and white I think. Bubs was currently obsessed with the Little Mermaid, and he named her Ariel. I didn’t let my husband kill the heifer when she grew up, Roman really loved that cow. I swear that thing was more dog than cattle, she might still be alive. I know they can live like 22 years.

Remus and I would go hunting for Cane Toads. We both hated the damn things, after all we are Australian. Obviously he was a little older so about 11, 12 when we went, I taught him how to shoot a bow. I know it sounds brutal, but you don’t hesitate to kill a bug, right? And things are like cats, they kill anything they can get their hands on. He was named after my buddies, Remus O’Malley and Johnny Drummond. Remus Jose John Douglas Rowe, I’d say it’s a pretty alright name, of course, a smidge long but we did long names in the Mejia-Cortes-Rowe household. No, but, my little duke was a good shot, and he probably still kills Cane Toads to this day.

Those days were so nice. I miss them so much.

Of course, I loved Agnes and Johnny with all my heart. They were some of my best friends. When it happened, I just shut down, Verrill died not too long after her. Jannie and O’Malley were in one of their spits around that time, so Janus left the group. All I could think of was getting revenge. I fucking hated Abigail. I despised her. I wanted her dead. I wanted to hurt her badly. I know it was unfair, but at the time I did not know.

We never got along. She and I just did not mix. She was cynical and rude, and looked down upon me like gutter trash half the time. She had some kind of superiority complex, I swear, I bit my tongue though. I don’t like to judge people, but it’s human nature to in some ways. She always pushed my buttons, I found it hard to respect her. I knew she was in tangos with a married guy, and it wasn’t an open marriage or anything. It was a poor woman who was being cheated on by this canadian jackass who spoke like the weird French skunk cat harasser.

I think I only got along with her once. She was doing research on everyone’s family trees. Abigail wanted to recognise void ticks, symptoms, patterns, etc. She was smart, I'd give her that. The project interested me, so I didn’t say anything. I kept peace most of the time, because the others seemed to like her. Her daughter and grandson were pretty nice people though, I don’t know how that happened (Well, maybe I do, I think her daughter was raised by an Aunt or something, and the grandson was some other couple).

But now, looking back I don’t know if I don’t regret anything.

I don’t know.

I think my life is still incomplete. I know why. I still haven’t met her. I want to meet her. I’m getting older, and my friends are dying. I kinda wish my grandson, Kenzie, had at least two abuelas. I think most people desire that kind of companionship, I just want what the straight have unfortunately.

I thought writing this down would help. I always meant to go to therapy but time got ahead of me. And now, I have a different job. I gotta watch over some people, and I would like to meet Jannie’s sister, oh, and Beetle too.

Welp, probably gonna sing love songs over and over, and sob into my ukulele. Uh

Peace.

[dilliebar]

Scraps: A Dillie Fic

Hey guys! I’m happy to announce that I’ve finally posted the first chapter of Scraps (aka “The Farm Fic”). This one will be multi-chapter, and I’m looking at 5-10k words per ch so hopefully that’ll be worth the wait. Anyway, here you are, hope you enjoy!

Months after Joel's death, and a couple months after the confrontation in Seattle, Ellie and Dina find themselves moving out of Jackson and to the farm: a place where they hope to start their new life and family. But even though their lives were spared, not all is well. Ellie still struggles with her inner-demons and the pressures of the ghosts that haunt her, and with how her mind wanders, she's not sure how long the peace will last.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25317292/chapters/61382233

Sunday, May 9th, 2038

The dark, dingey atmosphere and cold air biting at Ellie's nose told her exactly where she was. She'd lived it only once, but had seen it a million times before in her darkest memories and worst nightmares. But this was no dream; she was convinced by every small detail of the rustic mansion- every frosted pattern on iced glass, every crack in the layer of paint, and every anguished cry from the bottom of the staircase- that this was real. He was down there, in the basement. Joel was down there, and she had to save him.

She ran down the stairs as fast as her feet could carry her. Each step seemingly took years to pass, the fear and sheer panic coursing through her veins and making her skin hurt. After what felt like a painful forever she reached the basement door, throat dry and lungs gasping for air. She wrapped her fingers around the cold door handle and turned it with her very last ounce of energy, only to be denied by the lock. She tried again and again and again, each time making the panic set deeper and deeper into her bones.

"Ellie!"

Joel's strained voice called from the other side. Dammit, she was trying. She was trying like her life depended on it, but the door wouldn't budge. Hot tears rolled down her cheeks as another tormented cry of her name filled the silence between her sobs.

Suddenly the door gave way after what felt like the thousandth turn, her heart dropping at the sight in front of her. The room was empty except for Joel's still, bloodied and beaten body lying motionless on the hardwood floor. The smell of iron filled her lungs that were previously desperate for air, only to find herself begging for them to empty again. She watched as his lips parted slowly to mutter their final words.

"Ellie!"

All she felt now was a pair of hands gripping her shoulders. All she saw was red. All that her rapid heartbeat pumped through her veins was adrenaline and agony and rage. The voice that called her name didn't register. She pushed away in desperation. She had to get to Joel. Maybe she could still save him.

"Get the fuck off me!"

But her captor wouldn't budge. With sheer distress she pulled their hands off of her shoulders and went to push them away, only to be quickly met with two soft, familiar hands cupping the sides of her face.

"Ellie," the voice said, softer and calmer. It was familiar, too, yet she couldn't quite place the sweet sound. She grabbed their wrists tightly in an attempt to pull them off of her as the red began to fade from her vision, but stopped as she processed the girl sitting in front of her.

She was met with two big, concerned, dark-brown eyes; the pair that she always associated with not hate nor violence, but both gentleness and a tender touch; the warm-toned skin that felt soft underneath her fingertips; the near-black hair that smelled of life and lavender. Dina. Her presence alone made Ellie’s heart rate slow.

Confused at the sudden change of scenery, she took a look around the room. The walls were a faded eggshell white, with one window directly facing the bed, allowing the moonlight to cast a pale glow on the scene. Cardboard boxes- most sealed and unopened- were labeled and organized in stacks on the wood floor; linen; Ellie; Dina; decor and some unmarked. She looked back into the shorter girl’s eyes.

“We’re home, El,” she whispered softly, “do you remember?”

Gentle thumbs brushed the skin of Ellie’s face as her heart and breathing slowed. She didn’t quite recognize the room. Not as her room in Jackson, anyway. She looked to the window, and to her surprise, didn’t find the suburban-like view of the town outside. Instead she saw a field of long golden grass, the tops of great pines, an old, rusted fence…

“The farm,” Dina confirmed, “we moved a couple weeks ago.”

Ellie’s memory came flooding back at her girlfriend’s words.

The couple had been mulling over living in town since they left seattle. They knew they’d want to stay near family, or more so Jesse’s parents considering the baby, but how could they live in Jackson after all that had happened? How could they walk past Joel or Jesse’s old houses without feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt? How could they rebuild their life there at all? They needed peace. They needed a home. They needed a new beginning.

Of course, Jesse’s parents were completely against the idea of moving away from Jackson. They had a right to be concerned, but after all, the farm was only about ten minutes or so outside of town, close enough that if there was ever an emergency they could get help as needed. Ellie had her own concerns, too, like how they would deliver the baby with only a blanket and her 7th grade health class military prep, but Dina assured her it would be fine, and Ellie believed her. As long as she was with Dina she knew everything would be alright. 

And life back in Jackson county so far had, in fact, been alright. But what wouldn’t stop picking away at Ellier were these constant nightmares. Each one made her feel as if she were living it again. As if the blood splatters across frosted glass weren’t illustrated by the depths of her mind. As if she wouldn’t wake up again, that she would die in that basement and never see Dina or Tommy or Maria again. This was the fourth one she’d had since they arrived in Jackson. Ellie thought the move would help, that the absence of reminders of Joel would help ease her anxiety, but alas, she had woken Dina up in the middle of the night for the fourth time.

Ellie let go of Dina's small wrists and leaned into the tender touch of her girlfriend; she was the only thing in the world that seemed soft anymore. The only thing that seemed solid. Her body sighed as Dina lifted her thumb to wipe away a tear that Ellie didn't even realize had welled.

"Did you have another one?"

Ellie hated when Dina had to see her this way. She hated being vulnerable. She hated how she kept interrupting Dina's well-deserved and needed rest. The mental toll her own mind was taking on her was overwhelming, but she wouldn't allow it to affect Dina if it was the last thing she did. After all the unnecessary hell she went through just to be there for Ellie, she was convinced that she shouldn't have to deal with this, too.

She nodded, "I'm okay."

Dina looked unconvinced.

"Ellie, your hands are shaking."

She shook her head and clenched her fists into the sheets.

"I said I'm fine."

Ellie kept her gaze down but she could feel her girlfriend’s eyes on her, examining. She prayed that Dina would just let it go, that she would go back to sleep and forget that this ever happened.

The smaller girl's hand found its way under Ellie's chin, tilting her head up to look into those beautiful emerald eyes.

"I'm here for you, El."

Dina closed her eyes and leaned in to place a tender kiss on auburn hair before moving back to the right side of the bed and tucking herself back under the covers.

Ellie hesitated for a moment, watching the girl settle back into the clean white sheets. She studied how they fit around the curves of her body, and how each strand of dark hair contrasted against the pillows. Sometimes, or more like all the time, Ellie wondered how someone like herself could end up with such a beautiful soul. She'd killed how many men? Taken how many lives? She had almost stopped at nothing to bring down one measly person, and despite the fact that the bitch still made her blood boil, the innocent part of Ellie couldn't find herself wanting anything more than this girl lying next to her. Not even vengeance. 

But the hardened part of herself wouldn't leave her alone. It didn't just want blood, it wanted to be the one to spill it.

Ellie took a deep breath and turned over on her side, reaching an arm around the smaller girl's waist and pulling her in to fit their bodies together. She brought her pointer finger up to her girlfriend's arm, gently tracing patterns on soft skin until she slowly felt the bad thoughts melt away one by one. She did her best not to bother the sleeping girl, and continued on to draw her finger on her neck, and then down to her shoulder, until she saw it.

The scar.

It was about two inches long, and ran along the back of Dina’s right shoulder. It had healed for the most part, but the line was still red and angry.

“Almost done.”

Ellie noticed Dina wince as the needle pierced her skin again. She was trying her best to stitch up the arrow wound as steady as possible, but with one broken arm, it was proving to be a difficult task whenever the smaller girl would flinch and she wasn’t able to hold her still. 

“How’s Tommy doing?”

Ellie looked behind her to where Tommy was resting on his backpack and one of the old leather sofas.

“Should be alright, the bullet didn’t go too deep.”

As much as it brought back bad memories, with everyone’s current condition there was no way they’d be able to leave the theater and make it back to Jackson alive. It was already going to be difficult enough with Dina being pregnant and all, but on top of that, she had also lost a lot of blood and probably had at least a minor concussion. Tommy’s right eye was shot to fuck, and he’d barely been able to walk ever since the confrontation. If that weren’t bad enough, Ellie had this broken arm to show for it, too. She wondered how they would even get back at all with the little medical supplies they had.

 Ellie leaned forward and bit off the excess string.

“All done.”

Dina sighed and relaxed her shoulders.

“Thanks babe.”

The pair had tried to pack light, so extra clothes weren’t really a priority when they left Jackson, but they were able to scrounge up some ones without blood on them from around the place. Most of the clothes- or costumes- were fancy dresses or black-tie attire, but the last guy who set up camp there left quite a bit of things behind, too. Ellie grabbed a black tee for herself and a blue hoodie for Dina, which she helped to slip over her arms amidst pained groans.

The memory of the night before still haunted her. It used to be Joel’s face that lurked in her mind, but now it was Dina’s. The arrow through her shoulder. The sound as her head banged against the floor. The knife held to her throat by a muscular arm. It only made her more hungry for blood, but she also knew that she had a responsibility to Dina, Tommy, and Jesse that she had to fulfill. 

“Ellie?”

She sighed and packed the rest of the medical supplies away as the tender voice broke through her tortured thoughts.

“Hm?”

Ellie’s muscles relaxed as Dina stood and wrapped her arms around the taller girl’s waist from behind, leaning in and resting her head in the crook of her neck. She was grateful; god, she was so grateful. But something still didn’t sit right for Ellie. They had come all this way, gone through so much hurt and for what? For the father of Dina’s unborn child to die? For Tommy to be permanently injured? Sure, they had killed some of the people associated with Joel’s death, but not the one to give the final blow. It was like starving, finally finding a meal but settling for a side. Unsatisfying and disappointing.

“I can’t go back there.”

The shaky words tugged at Ellie’s chest. They had so many great memories in Jackson. It was where they first met. Where Ellie first played a video game. Where she first watched a movie. Where she got her first tattoo. Where they first laughed and hung out together, and where they’d first kissed. They’d had a semi-normal life; one like Joel had described. One where people roamed the streets, no one was struggling to survive, and there was a sense of both community and safety. Jackson was their home, but it had also been Jesse’s, and Joel’s, and they both knew that they wouldn’t be able to escape the guilt as they saw their ghosts mingling at the bar or dancing and laughing under string lights at the winter dance. It was too much; at least for now.

Ellie turned around and pulled Dina into a loving embrace. 

“I know.”

Crisp air whispered through the towering firs, grass rustling underneath Ellie’s feet as she whisked herself into the woods. She left while Dina was still sleeping, hoping they wouldn’t have to talk about last night like she knew her girlfriend desperately wanted to. She felt bad, knowing that all Dina wanted to do was help, but they were both grieving in different ways, and right now Ellie didn’t know if she could bring herself to even think about the subject more than her mind forced her to. So she left a note, so hopefully Dina wouldn’t worry, and assured her that she’d be back for dinner, hopefully with something other than canned tomato soup to eat.

Ellie held the notch of the arrow up to the string, making sure to keep it ready in case any critters decided to show themselves. Fall was beginning to fade into winter; the air was starting to turn chilly and frost made an appearance on the grass in the early morning before melting away under the semi-warm, overcast sun. Even as the cold air bit at her nose, Ellie found herself at peace deep in the tall trees. Maybe it was the quietness of it all; how calm everything seemed to be, with nothing but the chirping of the warblers and the sway of branches filling the autumn air; maybe the openness, how any and all structure was overtaken by the brush and roots of the forest; but most of all it was the familiarity. Though her and Joel had spent so many days and nights meandering their way in and out of cities and small towns, most of their travel was spent in the wilderness, which was something she'd always admired and appreciated ever since she left the QZ. 

She solemnly dug through the memories of setting up camp after a long day of hiking, where she would gather the wood for a campfire while Joel scouted the area and set up traps. She remembered vividly each tiny detail and sidetrack he fit into his stories of his life back in Boston, and sometimes, but rarely, of his travels and life before the outbreak. She remembered back then how she had so many questions. It pained her to think that over the past few years she had distanced herself too much to ask more. Now his answers and stories were all she wanted, but instead she was left with nothing but a flat grave and her own imagination.

A rustling from the brush beside her caught her ear and pulled her from her thoughts.

Ellie crouched down in the grass to make herself less visible and nocked the arrow, keeping a keen eye in the direction of the noise. She watched for any and all movement, a tactic that had grown to be second nature to her over the years. She waited patiently until she saw it: a small rabbit peeking out from above the grass. She raised the bow and pulled back on the string, holding her breath to take aim. For a split second before she released the arrow the little creature turned its head in her direction, its black eyes meeting hers. She felt a tinge of mercy in her chest before hands began to shake and she released the arrow, missing the animal and sending it running by mere inches. She cursed under her breath before standing to retrieve her arrow and continued into the quiet depths of the woods.

“We got everything?”

Dina helped Ellie slip her backpack over her shoulders before turning to give Tommy a small nod in response. It had been a couple weeks since the confrontation with Abby. Everyone was still in a world of hurt, but the tension between the scars and the WLF was growing day by day, and supplies were becoming more and more scarce. It was only a matter of time before they were blocked off from leaving Seattle completely, and without any means of travel other than their own two feet, making it back to Jackson in one piece would be much, much harder; they had to move, now.

“Should be it, unless we want to bring sparky from the roof along with us.”

Despite the tension in the air Ellie released a small puff of laughter, earning both of them a glare from Tommy’s one good eye. Ellie knew he didn’t want to leave Seattle. She didn’t want to, either. But he couldn’t fight, she couldn’t fight, and Dina’s condition was getting worse day by day. They had already lost one of them, it would be irrational to keep running after this girl and lose another, right?

The trio made their way out of the front door, making sure to keep an eye on the nearby buildings and cover. There was no telling what, or who, was lurking in the shadows anymore. Any fight at this point was a death sentence.

“Main gate’s this way,” Tommy noted, opening the map, “though we best sneak out the east jus’ like last week.”

“Still no guards?” Ellie asked.

“Not as far as I heard over that radio.”

Ellie shrugged and nodded. The main gate would be impossible to get through with all the trouble they had to go through just to get into the QZ. She began to follow Tommy before she felt a tug on her good arm.

“El’s?”

She turned around to meet a pair of sad brown eyes, brimming with tears sparkling like polished glass. As much as they wanted to leave, they also wanted to stay. Not just for the vengeance of Joel, but for Jesse now, too. Ellie wanted it. Dina wanted it. Tommy wanted it. But it wasn’t about them now. It was about their child; someone who would carry on the legacy of that brave friend and father; it was about their family. They were a family now, no matter what, and anything outside of that would have to wait.

“What’s up?”

She watched as Dina blinked tears away from her eyes.

“Can we stop for him?”

Ellie felt her heart ache at the unevenness of her voice.

“Of course.”

They had wanted to bring Jesse’s body back to Jackson, back to his parents, back to where their child would grow up. But frankly without a horse there was no way they’d be able to, not to mention the trip would take maybe a month or two. Having to see his body like that wouldn’t be good for any of them, or for him out of respect. The least they could do was give him a proper funeral somewhere nice, somewhere he could rest, where when they buried him, he would still be the man that everyone remembered so dearly.

They buried him along the same route Ellie and Dina had taken to Seattle, off the side of the main road by the overgrown bus stop where the sunlight broke through the trees and would be easy to find if and when they came back to see him again. They marked the fresh mound by lining it with rocks, and neatly folded up his bloodied jacket, slipping it into one of the clothing bags from the theater and setting it underneath one of the bigger stones at the head of his grave. It wasn’t fancy, but Dina, having a decently vast knowledge of her religion, was able to send Jesse off the best way she knew how.

They stopped at his grave again as they passed through the area to head back to Jackson, at Dina’s request.

Ellie watched as Dina leaned down and took some of the freshly-turned dirt in her hand, squeezing it gently before letting it fall through her fingers. Her breath remained shaken as she took the rock off of the garment bag, unzipping it and bringing Jesse’s coat to her chest to feel his presence one last time. Ellie listened closely as her girlfriend began to whisper a small prayer under her breath in a language she couldn’t understand.

At first when Dina had described her religion in the synagogue, Ellie found herself intrigued. She didn’t just want to know how something as simple as a string of words to someone unknowable could help, but she desperately wanted it to. She had even tried it a couple of times; she tried it on their first night in Seattle, when she found out Dina was pregnant and she said poisonous things and she prayed for everything to be okay; she tried it after she killed Nora, when she was begging for forgiveness to anyone who would hear her; she tried it after she killed Mel, a pregnant woman, which was something she could never forget or forgive herself for but maybe a higher, more perfect being could. At first it did make her feel better to know, or at least make herself think, that there was something greater than all of this bullshit out there. But then, after seeing Dina’s bloodied face and body with a knife held up to her neck, she came to the conclusion that any “perfect being” would never allow that bullshit to happen.

But she wouldn’t tell Dina that. Not when it was the only thing she clinged to for hope.

When Ellie got home it was around mid-afternoon, and she could see smoke coming from the chimney. Despite how dark her mind was, she couldn't help but feel her heart warm at the thought of having a place to come home to, a person to come home to. It was something she'd always wanted but also thought she'd never have the chance to get, especially after they left Boston. The more she thought about it as she approached the front door the more guilty she felt.

What if I was that person to him?

A chill ran down her spine and all that warmth that previously filled her heart began to fuel her guilt. For the last year that Joel had been in her life, she had barely acknowledged that he even existed. She had been his home. For the longest time, he had been hers, as much as her angry self hated to admit it back then. All of the stupid dad jokes, his fatherly, protective demeanor, their unbreakable bond; all of that was taken away within minutes, and not a year later, here she was, attempting to start over and forget that it ever happened or that he ever existed.

I don't deserve her.

When Ellie walked in she immediately noticed her girlfriend on the couch, beautiful as ever with her little baby bump and frazzled head of hair.

"Hey," she greeted with a sweet smile.

Ellie set her backpack down by the door and leaned down to place a fragile kiss atop Dina's head.

"Sorry, I was gone a bit longer than I planned."

"You're alright, I was just taking a break from dishes," Dina paused, attempting to read her girlfriend with concerned eyes as the mood shifted, "everything alright?"

Ellie knew what she was referring to. It was the reason she'd gone out in the first place. She didn't want to talk about it then and she didn't want to talk about it now.

She shrugged it off as she untied the couple squirrels she caught from her bag.

"Everything's fine, just needed something for dinner."

Even with her half-hearted response Ellie could still feel the smaller girl's eyes on her. They were pressing, piercing, and probing every emotion she had left in her. But like she said, everything was fine. She just needed more time.

"You sure?"

Ellie shook her head to herself, her walls going up as she tried to avoid the conversation yet again.

"I'm fine."

Dina shifted on the couch.

"I know you don't want to talk about it, and that's fine, but-"

"Dina."

Her tone was calm but firm; enough to tell her girlfriend to take a step back but tender enough to let her know it wasn't personal. Frankly Ellie hated telling Dina to back off, because she knew she was lucky to have any sort of support at all, but this was the one thing she felt too guilty and pained about to ever bring up to anyone when she needed care the most.

Ellie stood up, squirrels in hand. She made her way to the kitchen before turning back to the girl on the couch.

"I'm gonna go work outside,"

Dina looked up, meeting her girlfriend's eyes just briefly before nodding in response.

Work life on the farm was pretty dull, but relaxing for the couple. Ellie had settled on doing the majority of the manual labor or most work outside, really, like making sure the sheep were well-fed and that the crops were growing as they should. Dina would always do her best to help, although with how the pregnancy had been affecting her body, most days she'd end up doing some of the household chores and preparing anything that Ellie happened to bring home when she went out hunting. The rest of the day they'd spend together, whether they were cuddled up under the stars or dancing in the living room, just as they'd always wanted to be, now and forever.

Working the garden didn’t take too long since they only really grew enough to sustain themselves, and even then the plants were just little saplings considering they’d only been there for a little over a week; for now they mainly relied on non-perishables and the little fresh vegetables they’d brought from Jackson, and the food that Ellie brought home of course. It didn’t take long for her to round up the couple of lambs Maria was willing to spare, either, and by the time she was done the sun was just setting.

And so Ellie finished up, brushed off her jeans and wiped the mud off her shoes before making her way back inside the kitchen where her beautiful, exceedingly patient girlfriend had dishes in the sink and the squirrels she’d caught on the cutting board. She felt a tinge of pain in her heart as she thought of how she’d snapped earlier. Ellie didn’t want to push her away. She knew Dina didn’t want her to push her away. They needed each other more than anything, but Ellie could barely think of Joel without breaking down, let alone talk about him.

And yet, despite everything, Dina stayed by her side.

Ellie felt her body warm as those brown irises met her own, bright and sparkling as ever. There was something different about them; something different than before that day in Seattle. It was the absence of the carefree, fun, glowing light behind her eyes. The one that put everyone at ease, yet so on-edge at the same time. Instead of being sharp and direct and sarcastic, it was soft, and concerned, and forgiving. 

She walked up behind the smaller girl and wrapped those strong arms around her waist, pulling her in and planting a kiss on that soft neck of hers.

“I love you,” Ellie said, just above a whisper.

Dina closed her eyes and leaned back into her girlfriend’s touch, allowing herself to revel in the rare softness of the hardened girl. Before Abby, Ellie had always been shy but always so warm. And in all fairness, she still was, but the grief and trauma over the past couple months had overcome her like a thick ice. No matter how much Dina tried to dig at her, she wasn’t revealing any of the water below, and it was both frustrating and disheartening to see her not just ice out the people of Jackson, but herself as well. They had always been close, ever since the day Ellie arrived in Jackson. But now Dina felt like they were a million miles apart, and she had no idea what to do about it.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she said calmly, “but don’t leave without telling me like that.”

She felt the taller girl release a sigh against her shoulder, contemplating for a moment before speaking.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Dina turned around in Ellie’s arms and moved her hands up to cup her girlfriend’s face with a tender touch. She studied those deep-green emerald eyes, searching for any sign of the emotional openness Dina had been looking for since they’d left Seattle. Something was there. It was an understanding; a glimmer of hope in that mossy ring; something that told her that the innocence and goodness Ellie once had was still in there somewhere, hiding underneath, but still very much there.

She leaned up on her tip-toes to plant a brief kiss on her girlfriend’s soft lips before pulling back.

“Tommy and Maria mentioned they wanted to come over for dinner,” Dina switched the topic, “kind of like a house-warming thing.”

Ellie groaned.

“Doesn’t the fireplace warm it enough?”

The shorter girl playfully rolled her eyes and pushed her girlfriend away from her. “Go wash up, you look like Todd out there.”

Ellie scoffed as she turned to head out of the kitchen.

“Alright, but you didn’t just kiss Todd so I’d like to think I’ve got something on him.”

“You wish.”

It took them nearly twice as long to get back to Jackson as it took them to get to Seattle. Ellie was fairly mobile and her arm was healing nicely, but breaks had to be much more frequent for the sake of Tommy and Dina. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d stayed up with the pregnant girl, comforting her in any way she could and helping her to keep water and food down. Tommy’s gunshot wound appeared to be healing just fine, but his leg still wasn’t managing to function as well as it used to. As much as she hated to think it, it was very well possible that the damage was permanent, but all that mattered was getting back to Jackson in one piece.

It was the fourth week, second afternoon of their trip when they finally saw the lights of Jackson appear over the grassy Wyoming hills.

Almost in-sync, the trio stopped side-by-side, looking down on the settlement which used to be their safe-haven; their serenity; their home. For Ellie, it was a curse in disguise. A seemingly perfect community where all of the troubles of the outside world would melt away suddenly became a barren wasteland that led her family- her father- to his demise. For Dina, it was the place that had raised her since the age of twelve. She had seen the horrors of the outside world, but now she had seen the pure darkness behind it. Now all she saw were four walls filled with distractions; things to keep everyone’s minds off the fact that there were people out there suffering while they wasted away in front of their televisions and danced along to music of the old days. All Tommy saw were his broken hopes and dreams. Jackson was supposed to be a second-chance; a place for people to redeem themselves and finally live a rare, peaceful life. Now he realized that the only place for redemption was outside the wall, where vengeance could be taken and revenge could be had.

Ellie felt a soft hand grip her calloused one, and she turned her head to see a teary-eyed Dina.

“I’m not ready.”

The taller girl felt her heart ache at the three words. She squeezed the small hand reassuringly.

“Me neither.”

The three of them made their way down the hill, past the old gas station, through the brush and through the golden grass. They took note of the fresh horse tracks, signaling the first friendly presence they’d seen in months. Ellie continued to squeeze Dina’s hand as they made their way past the last line of trees, and took a deep breath as the main gate came into view.

“Open the gates! They’re back!”

As they approached the wall Ellie kept her eyes down, not out of sadness but out of shame. How could she look Jesse’s parents in the eyes and tell them he was gone? All because she decided to leave; all because they hadn’t been more careful; all because Ellie couldn’t help but make one last swing at the woman who killed her father.

She had no clue, but she would have to do it sooner or later, for Dina’s sake.

The gates opened, and Dina was the first to be bombarded by warm embraces from Jesse’s mother and father. Tears rolled down red cheeks and sobs were heard among them, but all Ellie heard was a muffled ringing in her ears. She could feel their sad, grieving eyes on the side of her face, begging for an answer that told them their son wasn’t gone. Something that could give them hope. But she couldn’t. All she could muster was a pained “I’m sorry” as his mother’s cries grew louder.

The next to appear by the gate was Maria, but unlike Jesse’s parents, stayed there, waiting for Tommy to approach her. Ellie looked to him, seeing the pain ridden on his face as he went to take his first limping step forward, but she stopped him.

“Tommy,”

Ellie shook her head as he looked up to her. She thought for a moment, pondering what she would even say to him. They had left for one purpose and one purpose only: to seek vengeance, and not only had they not accomplished that, but they had even more of a reason to seek revenge now more than ever. 

Slowly she brought her eyes up to meet him.

“I’ll make her pay.”

“So how’s it been out here?” Maria asked, “Farm life been treating you two nice?”

Dina smiled as she set the portions down on the table in front of them, taking her seat down next to Ellie.

She poked at her food as Dina and Maria went back and forth about the ins-and-outs of their life so far on the farm. In all honesty there wasn’t really much to talk about. Since Jackson sent out patrols every so often there wasn’t really any issue with infected around the area, and even if there was a straggler or two they weren’t two difficult to get rid of silently.

And then they went on about Jackson, how everyone was doing, how Jesse’s parents were. And of course the conversation shifted to the inevitable topic of Dina’s pregnancy. Since they had gotten back to Jackson she had been doing much better, especially now that they had access to medicine and heat and decent amounts of food. But the further along she got the more Ellie realized that there was one thing she wouldn’t be able to do.

Ellie couldn’t help but notice how quiet Tommy was as he sat across from her, barely even sneezing at the plate of food in front of him as the tension in the air grew more and more thick. She knew he was antsy to get back out there; to go find Abby yet again, and she was, too. But she had a family now. She had a responsibility to Dina and to Jesse. She couldn’t just up-and-leave. But no matter what, she would never place the blame for that on Dina. And she’d make sure Tommy didn’t put that pressure on her, either. Certainly not in their home.

“We’ve been talking about names,” Ellie finally interjected, “any suggestions?”

Maria pondered for a moment.

“Well I’ve got a few, but just in case, I think I might save those for myself.”

Ellie waited and gave Tommy one last chance to not be a dick before deciding to include him in the conversation whether he wanted to or not.

“Tommy? Any suggestions?”

She watched as he visibly scoffed before crossing his arms over his chest and looking up to meet Ellie’s eyes. There was a tangible frustration in his eyes; like he knew that this quest for revenge was coming to an end. She held his stare, silently daring him to make a snide comment towards Dina.

“So you’re keepin’ it, huh?”

The blood boiled in Ellie’s veins as she pushed her plate aside and leaned forward on her elbows.

“Yes. Is that a problem for you?”

Dina leaned forward to place a calming hand on Ellie’s shoulder, lightly attempting to pull her back and de-escalate the situation. But as far as Ellie was concerned, no one was going to come into their house and talk to the mother of her child like that. 

Tommy stood from his chair, loudly scooting it back and practically throwing his fork down on the table.

“You want some names? I got plenty for ya.”

Ellie stood up to meet his eyes along with Maria, who already had two hands on him and was gently pushing him towards the door. He turned to her and brushed her hands away, then heading out the front door.

“I’m already goin’.”

At first the three of them stood in shock, appalled by the suggestion that he’d just made. This was their child. It was Jesse’s child at that. Even if Jesse were alive, it was completely Dina’s choice as to what she wanted to do, and she wanted to keep it. And if that’s what she wanted to do, Ellie would be there for her every step of the way, and would support the hell out of that kid as if they were her own, because they were a family now.

Before she knew it, Ellie felt her feet carrying her outside while Dina called out for her to stop, but she couldn’t feel or hear anything over the rage and blood coursing through her veins. 

“You fucking asshole.”

Tommy turned from the knot in his horse’s lead to respond.

“Right, I’m the asshole,” he shook his head, “I’m the asshole for keepin’ my goddamn word? Is that it?”

Ellie shoved her hands against his chest, full-force.

“Don’t you fucking dare-”

“I’m not the one out here tryna forget the man who raised me ever walked this goddamn earth.”

The mention of Joel shook her, and she took a step back.

“But what’d I expect?” he scoffed and deepened his tone, “He raised one selfish child.”

And then she saw his face; the last time she’d ever seen him.

Without thinking Ellie cocked her fist, fully intending to deliver a well-deserved punch to the good side of his head before she felt two soft hands pulling back on her shoulders. She kept her eyes locked on the asshole in front of her even as her girlfriend came into view and held both sides of her face, trying her best to distract her.

“Ellie? Ellie.”

She watched as Maria stepped in front of Tommy, telling him quietly to back off. When he was out of view she brought her eyes back to Dina, who was looking at her with a deep sense of concern and worry. Her heart rate began to slow, but she was nowhere near calm. 

Ellie scoffed and pushed back from her girlfriend’s grip, stomping her way back inside and up the stairs until she got to their room, slamming the door behind her and sitting herself down on the white bedsheets. She leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, face in her hands as tears began to brim at the corners of her eyes.

As much as Tommy pissed her off, there was an aching in Ellie’s chest that told her he was right; that she hadn’t kept her word; that everything she did was for nothing, and to stop now would be an insult to Joel and his memory; that she didn’t deserve this seemingly perfect life with Dina and their soon-to-be child. No matter how many times Dina told her it wasn’t her fault, she still couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt.

She still saw their faces. She saw Joel’s face, battered and bloodied, as the lids of his eyes parted one last time for their eyes to meet before that bitch brought the club down. She saw Tommy’s face, unconscious and helpless as the scene played out in front of their eyes. She saw Jesse’s, one of the best friends she’d ever had, lifelessly splayed across the theater floor with a bullet wound through his cheek. And she saw Dina's face, the love of her life, seconds from death, who if she lost she would lose her mind and her life along with it.  

Ellie looked up through glossy eyes as she heard a soft creak from the bedroom door. 

“El’s?”

Ellie wiped the tears from her eyes and attempted to slow her breathing as they continued to spill. She didn’t want Dina to see her like this; so helplessly lost. But the smaller girl sat next to her anyway, rubbing a comforting hand on her back.

“He didn’t mean it,” she whispered, “it’s just a lot right now.”

Ellie shook her head and hid her face in her hands.

“He’s right.”

Dina’s heart ached as her girlfriend’s voice cracked. It pained her to see her like this, but she would always be there for her in any way that she could. Slowly Dina brought her hands to the sides of Ellie’s tear-struck face and gently turned it to look at her.

“Hey,” she said, looking deep and genuine into those emerald eyes, “You’re allowed to be happy.”

That’s when the dam broke, and every bad thought and emotion that Ellie had been withholding came flooding through the gates in the form of anguished sobs. She let Dina pull her into her chest, allowing herself the only emotional release she’d had in months.

“I miss him.”

“I know.”

She told herself she didn’t deserve this, that she didn’t deserve her girlfriend’s warmth, but she was crying so hard she didn’t think she would be able to stop even if she really wanted to. Everything that built up to this, every slit throat, every harsh word, every cruel thought didn’t release her anger or grief. It was this. The few times, this being the first, that she allowed herself to be vulnerable to the one that she loved. At the end of the day, maybe she didn’t deserve it, but Dina chose to stand by her anyway, and after everything that happened, Ellie decided that she would never aim to take advantage of that ever again.

They stayed like that for a while, Dina rocking Ellie back and forth as she let her emotions flow, as the tears soaked into the smaller girl’s shirt and her girlfriend’s body grew less and less tense until the tears stopped. Ellie gave in as Dina pulled the warm covers over them, and they held each other as they drifted off to sleep.

But before Ellie let the exhaustion overtake her, she let her mind wander. Usually it took her to the darkest of places, but now she could see something a bit brighter; a future in which things weren’t so grim after all. 

[love-bokumono-fics]

Tage Tuesday - Angst!

I don't know about you guys, but I do love me some sweet, sweet angst. And I know the fandom does because Angst is the 4th most popular tag on AO3 😂 Let's take a look this week at some of the fics that feature the heart wrenching angst we all love so much. lives, lived - by nayt0reprince; Complete, 1/1, 2k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: Gen Fandoms: Friends of Mineral Town Characters: Kappa, Grandfather Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Character Study, Character Death, Mild Angst Summary: as always, a cucumber lands in kappa's lake. but this time, it's different. Ember - by CottonCandyMareep; Complete, 1/1, 1.6k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: F/M Fandoms: Animal Parade Relationship: Hikari | Molly/ Ignis | Harvest King; Characters: Hikari | Molly, Ignis | Harvest King, Sephia | Harvest Goddess Additional Tags: Tragedy, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Death Summary: His blaze would always burn, eternally bright; in contrast, her warmth would gradually fade away, a fleeting escape reminiscent of the last few dying embers of a once brilliant flame. The Mineral Town Tales Collection - by AccidentallyTheWholeFanfic; Complete, 10/10, 9k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: Major Character Death; Categories: Multi, Gen Fandoms: Back To Nature, Friends of Mineral Town Relationships: Anna/Basil, May/Stu, Jack/Mary, Lillia/Zack, Ellen/Greg, Sasha/Jeff, Duke/Manna, Louis/Bees; Characters: Anna, Kai, Gray, Barley, Pastor Carter, May, Stu, Sasha, Jeff, Jack, Mary, Lillia, Zack, Rick, Popuri, Duke, Manna, Doug, Kano, Greg, Louis, Harris, Won, Thomas, Gotz Additional Tags: General, Romance, Drama, Angst, Character studies, prompt, One-Shots, Family, Friendship, Alcoholism, Marital Strife, Humor Summary: A series of prompt-based shorts about the people of Mineral Town, with a focus on some of the more underappreciated characters. Each short is written in a half-hour or less, based on selected words suggested by the readers. Clarity - by BabyChocoboAlchemist; Complete, 1/1, 1.3k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Categories: F/M, M/M Fandoms: Trio of Towns Relationships: Ludus/FeMC, Mentioned Wayne/MC, FeMC/Ford; Characters: Ludus, Female Protagonist Additional Tags: Angst, Romance, Unrequited Love?, Love Triangle Summary: Elena of Happybell Farms has been leading a peaceful, happy life with her brother Bradley. Farming, making friends with the wonderful townsfolk, and bearing the biggest crush on Doctor Ford has all made for some pretty awesome adventures-but she finds out she's been completely oblivious to a very precious friend's feelings. Summer's End, a Letter, and Three Months - by Crazy_Pairing_Person; Complete, 1/1, 2k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Categories: Gen, M/M Fandoms: Friends of Mineral Town Relationships: Kai/Rick, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Gray/Pete | Jack, Popuri & Rick, Pete | Jack & Rick; Characters: Rick, Kai, Popuri, Minor Characters, Gray, Pete | Jack Additional Tags: Bisexuality, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Letters, Love Confessions, Love Letters, Oblivious, Feelings, Emotions, Ambiguous/Open Ending Summary: One summer, the summer after the new farmer Pete arrives, Kai arrives, just as always. And just as always, he leaves at the end… But this time, he leaves behind a letter, and a promise to Rick that he will have three months to consider his response to what is written within. Messages In a Bottle - by MOcarina; Complete, 1/1, 2k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/M Fandoms: Friends of Mineral Town Relationship: Claire/Rick; Characters: Rick, Claire Additional Tags: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Family, Pregnancy Summary: Ever since Rick's father left, he wrote him letters and sent them to sea. Sugary sweet, trope-y goodness. The Game - by Lunetta_Lolita; WIP, 11/?, 69k Rating: Teen And Up

Audiences; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Categories: F/M, M/M Fandom: Story of Seasons Relationships: Mistel/Minori, Klaus/Iris; Characters: Fritz, Lillie, Agate, Raeger Additional Tags: Romance, Drama, Fluff and Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Minor Violence, Jealousy, Some Humor, Inappropriate Humor, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension Summary: Mistel wasn't too happy about it, but he couldn't help but to be infatuated with the new farm girl. Everyone knew it, even his sister. Apparently Fritz was oblivious, as always, and had kissed the girl-and Mistel seen it. Now she was acting unlike herself, flirting with him as she had never done before. Was this just a game to her? Was she trying to break his heart? Mistaken - by Mewsea; WIP, 4/?, 11k Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: M/M Fandom: Story of Seasons Relationship: Fritz/Raeger; Characters: Raeger, Fritz, Other(s) Additional Tags: Romance, Fluff, Too much fluff, Shit-ton of fluff, Enough fluff to kill you, some drama, Some angst, Some Humor Summary: Fritz has grown quite fond of Oak Tree's most renowned chef, Raeger, and would like nothing more than to be with him. But... There are always complications when one is in love... And more often than not, it can all be very, very confusing... I Am Worthy of Happiness - by sailorstars; Complete, 1/1, 6k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: F/M Fandoms: Animal Parade Relationships: Gill/Hikari Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, anxiety attack, Minor Character Death, Fluff, Romance, Recovery, Children Summary: When Gill's mother died he thought his life was completely over. His best friend and hero had left him forever. His entire perspective of the world, along with his heart, had shattered. He spent his days depressed and longing for a life that was not his own or no life at all. However, when the new rancher Hikari came to town, Gill realized he wanted a true happiness he thought he was no longer able to obtain. But no recovery is easy and with Hikari there to lend a helping hand, Gill learns to stand on his own two feet again and beat the traumas of his past. musings of a dog - by dreamnants; Complete, 3/3, <1k Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: Gen Fandoms: Trio of Towns Character: Woofio | Wanta-tan Additional Tags: yes i am woofio trash, i'll be in the trash can if needed, oh right actual tags, Angst, spoilers for Woofio's events in all of these Summary: Small, innocent ones or dark, life-changing ones, those are the natures of the secrets people hide from others. Woofio the dog-costumed animal trainer is an individual of the latter category.

[prosopopeya]

New Year’s Meme

this survey has been a tradition among my friend group for YEARS, but i haven’t filled it out since 2015 apparently. i’m not entirely sure why except 2016 was the year a lot of stuff changed for me, namely in that i finally got out of school in some form and started a new job, but i also had a few health problems that kept plaguing me (thyroid medicine being off, vitamin d) and my anxiety was all over the place. so here we go i’m doing it again and feel free to do it too if you want!!

1. What did you do in 2020 that you’d never done before? tried on wedding dresses. taught virtually. dealt (poorly) with drunk teenagers. performed in a pep rally. wore face masks all the time. i’m going to lump in living with someone. jon moved in october 2019, but i don’t think i did this quiz last year so. taught ap.

2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions and will you make more for next year? i don’t really like resolutions. they put too much pressure on me and i am a fragile person when it comes to setting expectations and living up to them. i did want to try to read more this year, and i maintained that until the pandemic, and then just kind of gave up requiring myself to do anything but live.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? i don’t think so. a coworker did.

4. Did anyone close to you die? jon’s cousin committed suicide in march or april. the circumstances were pretty upsetting. um. andy died in february, very suddenly. andy was my high school boyfriend for four years with whom i had a very... he scarred me in a lot of ways when it comes to sex and consent. it’s taken me a long time to unpack all of that. and i struggle with how much any of that was his fault or just bc he was a stupid kid too. our mutual friends had nothing but nice things to say about him on fb. anyway. he would guilt me into saying he’d kill himself if we broke up, and jon’s cousin killed himself over his girlfriend. so that was a complex part of the year.

5. What countries did you visit? none. literally the week before the quarantine, we went to asheville to visit jon’s cousin.

6. What would you like to have in 2021 that you lacked in 2020? maybe a different job? or at least some peace at doing mine.

7. What date from 2020 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? march 13 we cancelled classes and had a technology training day; the 15th we had another one, and then we were virtual the rest of the term. it was such a sudden shift and while i so loved working from home tbh, it was such a relief after a supremely shitty january/february work-wise, i still had a lot of keyed-up, stressful days centered around transitioning to being the senior upper school spanish teacher. i hate it!

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? writing 50k in the month of november. i have literally never done that before and actively reject nano as being typically unhealthy for how my mind works, so it was nice to do it entirely by accident.

9. What was your biggest failure? mishandling the drunken teenagers on that field trip in january.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? i sit crosslegged in my virtual teaching chair and i did it so much that my ankle hurt for the entire summer.

11. What was the best thing you bought? we put a deposit on our elopement in ireland. jon’s wedding ring. (i didn’t buy my wedding dress.)

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? my best friend at work who keeps me sane and is represented by benny in my au, which other than the fact that he is not my sidepiece, is perfect he is crucial to my survival at work and i love him so much. (also he is gay and the french teacher so the benny parallels just keep coming). everyone who tore down a statue in virginia (and other places, but especially monument avenue). everyone putting their lives on the line during this pandemic.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? guess! but aside from all the obvious, i found out a friend of mine at work voted for trump. my work bff and i had been trying for years to sway his politics, but that had us both deciding to give up on him.

14. Where did most of your money go?  food, ALCOHOL. god., our savings account. i did a pretty excellent job saving this year, though a good deal of that is because jon moved in and makes more money than me, and also we split all the bills.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? my wedding dress but strangely only when i went to try it on after it came in bc after the purchase i was so sure i’d made every mistake possible. my wedding band. wellbutrin changing my whole life. and, last but certainly not least, the gay angel and the bi(lingual) hunter. i wouldn’t have survived nov-dec in school without that distraction. the election.

16. What song(s) will always remind you of 2020? the entirety of taylor swift’s oeuvre this year, maybe specifically “this is me trying”

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:  i. Happier or sadder? happier, i suppose, perhaps contrary to what should be the case, but wellbutrin is a hell of a drug. ii. Older or wiser? wiser. ii. Richer or poorer? richer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? reading. cleaning. exercising.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? stressing. chaperoning.

20. How will you be spending Christmas? so, an update; last year was the first year i didn’t go to my mom’s for christmas. i was supposed to see her for thanksgiving last year, but she basically told us not to come bc she wasn’t feeling up to it (cool!), and we went to jon’s for christmas and my mom’s for new year’s. 

this year, obviously we couldn’t go to my mom’s. instead, we rented a little cabin by the lake. it was perfect; it was really really nice inside, the beds were SO SOFT, the pillows were the best things i have ever laid my head on, like i took off the pillowcases to try to find the brand. we had a little tiny christmas tree with tiny ornaments from walmart that we decorated. the 23rd, we went and picked up our wedding bands. we slept two nights in the (cold) back bedroom so i could wake up and look out at the lake. it snowed for christmas. :)

we opened presents on christmas eve, per jon’s family’s tradition. on christmas eve, we also went to his family farm and sat outside and hung out a little. every year his family does like a secret santa sort of thing and i got my first present in that exchange, which is notable bc jon and i are not yet officially married. i got a remote control car -- jon’s idea bc i couldn’t think of anything, and he was so delighted to hear that i loved playing with rc cars when we went to the beach as a kid.

christmas morning we facetimed my parents and opened some presents together. then jon and i marathoned mandalorian (after spending the previous few days watching several die hard movies), and then we watched wonder woman 1984 which was a bad movie.

21. How will you be spending New Year’s Eve? ok LAST year for new year’s, we were in a hotel room, so that was nice, bc it meant minimal stress with my parents. i had always wanted to go to this restaurant near us that has a special new year’s menu, so we did that. the night before or after i think we went to cheesecake factory, which was also amazing.

this year currently i’m tumbling and he’s playing pokemon, and in a bit we’ll try to time it so we finish schitt’s creek in time for the new year.

22. Did you fall in love in 2020? i re-fell in love with supernatural so that was nice.

23. How many one-night stands? 0. i submit we should randomly change question 23 each year to something more relevant to any of our life experiences.

24. What was your favorite TV program? what did i even watch this year. schitt’s creek. mandalorian. i mean obviously we know supernatural. the circle. are you the one (the queer season). pose. unsolved mysteries. we’re here! perry mason. watchmen. oh maybe that mcdonald’s monopoly fraud documentary. avenue 5. i’ll be gone in the dark. of those i think my favorite maybe is... pose or we’re here.

OKAY UM. on my 2014 version of this there were a bunch of questions about tv shows that i’m putting back in if only for the memories:

25. Which TV shows did you start watching in 2020? the haunting of bly manor, which we still need to finish. derry girls.

26. Which TV shows did you let go of in 2020? HERE’S WHY I WANTED TO RESURRECT THESE. here was my answer in 2015: “supernatural. goodbye, my sweet prince.” CAN YOU EVEN FUCKING BELIEVE

27. Which TV shows did you mean to get into but didn’t in 2020? Why? so far, queen’s gambit and that one on hulu with catherine the great. EVENTUALLY. 28. Which TV shows do you intend on checking out in 2020? fleabag. queen’s gambit. 29. Which TV show do you think you might let go of in 2020 unless things significantly improve? idk i drop things pretty regularly if they don’t entertain me 30. Which TV show impressed you least in 2020? GUYS HERE’S MY ORIGINAL 2015 ANSWER: “supernatural. :(”

anyway back to the rest of the quiz:

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year? every person who refuses to listen to facts and information.

26. What was the best book you read? killers of the flower moon: the osage murders and the birth of the fbi, or the his dark materials series.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? well i knew about tswift so i’m not going to count her albums. i will count this song that jon played for me once in the car that got stuck in my head for two weeks straight and led me down into a great related-songs spotify playlist: through the roof ‘n underground.

28. What did you want and get? a wedding dress and a very specific kind of wedding band. a gay angel. a christmas getaway. animal crossing.

29. What was your favorite film of this year? idk i don’t know how many films i saw this year. maybe mucho mucho amor: the legend of walter mercado

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? i was 32. we went to an escape room with a BUNCH of people -- work bff, my old work bff and his wife (old bc he quit and we’ve fallen out of touch :(), the cool new physics teacher and his fiancee, and the aforementioned trump voter and his wife, before we knew... we went out for brunch/lunch after. it was pretty great!

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? not having to chaperone that school trip in january. dean being bi in english as well as spanish. cas just ilke, appearing in 15x20. not having to physically go back to work this fall.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2020? no! real! pants!

34. What kept you sane? jon. supernatural (in a way?). animal crossing for a while. wellbutrin! i haven’t really been able to detail this yet, but finally i did something about tumblr and my therapist making me think about adhd. my doctor gave me wellbutrin (bc i lack any official diagnosis and was on anxiety meds anyway, and he was like let’s try this!) and it’s fucking. it’s a fucking godsend. surprisingly enough, my students. trying to provide them a safe space has been a calming thing for me.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? jensen ackles’ silence. misha collins again, i guess.

36. What political issue stirred you the most? the summer was so fucking intense. i guess though it was me trying to exert my influence in a responsible way with my students without trying to try to make them feel uncomfortable but then one kid was a vocally upset trump supporter after the election and i had to try to defuse that situation.

37. Who did you miss? my old work bff. several old friends that i’ve fallen out of touch with bc i have no object permanence.

38. Who was the best new person you met? people i met through the spn resurgence!

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2020: if you manifest it in an au, it will come. no really though. maybe that expectations are only as important as i make them out to be.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: usually i have a hard time coming up with anything for this and i default to looking at my most played songs of the year. my most played song of the year received each and every one of its plays within the month of november and you can guess why. anyway see if this works

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Take me back to the night we met - the night we met, lord huron

[mylordshesacactus]

Jo. Jo. I'm going to go to an early grave, and I want you to know that it's 300% because of your writing making my heart and brain fucking explode.

Okay see the main issue is that I’m not totally sure about where the main plot goes after that incredibly vivid “pilot episode” in my head. There’s some Vague Impressions of varying solidity though!

Our Hero has to run for it at some point; the natural recourse for the false avatar is to discredit the real one, until she can be killed. Take refuge in audacity and say she’s the fake. This wouldn’t be a “series”-long conflict ie ATLA, the Fire Nation isn’t the bad guys here.

I’m actually not convinced the FIRELORD is even in on the deception; there’s absolutely someone in the palace, probably a sibling, who genuinely believes their brother is the Avatar at first.

(Either a younger sibling, highlighting the idea that birthright is not a real thing and leadership should go to the person best suited for the job, or else an older sibling that the false avatar was trying to leapfrog in order to inherit the throne.)

Heroine, while on the lam, does need a mount of some kind. Breaking with Avatar tradition this is not her animal guide--it’s very probable that her animal guide is, in fact, Red the roosterdog, but if so it’ll be a long while before she knows that. The poor kid assumed that the animal guide thing was, you know....a ritual. As part of Being The Avatar, “they” (whoever “they” are, you know, the sages or whoever) give you a magical companion. That’s not an option for her, which just ties into the idea that she’s not a real Avatar.

(This is her main character arc, I think. It’s not like with Aang--it’s not avoidance, it’s not that she “doesn’t want” to be the Avatar. It’s just that she’s no one special according to her, and she had to keep her bending quiet for the sake of the people around her, she doesn’t know how to live the kind of life the Avatar is supposed to lead...she doesn’t know how to think of herself as important. And because of that she doesn’t know how to see that she’s already doing it.)

The mount is a stolen Fire Nation war rhino. It’s a very sweet animal who stays with her until the third act, when I think it actually does get killed off.

Somewhere, there is a dragon with her name on it.

The Firelord’s son isn’t stupid; he could never have sold this deception if the next Avatar in the cycle was due to be an earthbender. Our Hero is passing herself off as a simple, untrained earthbender because that’s the genuine extent of her self-taught earthbending skill.....because she was a firebender first.

By rights, the Fire Sages would have helped her bond with a young dragon.

By rights, a young dragon would have bonded with her. Both of them were robbed of that bond--but she has Red, and the dragon who might have been hers will never miss what he never had. No one has a destiny set in stone, and there’s no such thing as “the One”.

The Firelord’s son has a dragon.

It’s young, exactly the right age for the “Avatar”. A great, black serpent named Blackflame, golden-eyed, the terror of the Fire Nation. Rarely is the Avatar seen riding him; the sages and the Palace say that that the creature is so powerful that merely by flying over the countryside it would devastate the surrounding area, and so the Avatar “keeps the peace” by holding such terrible power in reserve against nothing but dire need. Rumor is less kind, and whispers that the beast is so vicious and unstable not even the Avatar has been able to tame it yet.

Dragons are not fools. Whatever was done to the poor creature, it is not there willingly. This part...I’m not certain. Perhaps they have hatchlings, or children, or dragon eggs held hostage; perhaps the dragon’s golden “armor” collar has some kind of dark spirit magic to it. 

I suspect the dragon isn’t controlled at all--but rather chained in the spirit world. Invisible from our plane of existence--by all appearances the dragon is just standing there, but from the spirit world it’s obvious that he’s bound by every limb with heavy chains that prevent him from escaping and sell the illusion.

Don’t worry. The true Avatar is going to find that out. She names him Lotus, cuts the spirit chains, and he flies free again. 

This is likely also the moment she realizes Red is her animal guide--in all likelihood, the highly risky journey to the spirit world was planned because the whole “thing” for this girl is trying to reclaim the power of the Avatar despite never having known ANYTHING about ANY Avatar traditions except through vague misconception and hearsay. They know she should have an animal companion, and they know about the black dragon, and they learn he’s bound--and assume this is it, this is Our Hero’s missing connection, they have to rescue him. Once he’s freed, she asks if he was meant to be her guide--and he rests his forehead lightly against hers and silently, mournfully indicates that he can’t help her.

After some brief despair something happens, she’s placed in danger in the spirit world, and instinctively--devoid of bending, after all--she calls her dog--and Red answers.

At some point after the heat gets turned higher but before everything goes tits-up, Our Hero spends quite some time in the capital city doing some Robin Hood shit to try to help people.

OBVIOUSLY Team Avatar has some transes. I’m feeling one of them is the airbender.

Team Avatar’s obligatory waterbender is a male healer who’s a history nerd and only SOMETIMES dead wrong.

At some point during this whole thing and probably at the point where Our Hero has revealed herself and REALLY has to run for it, she and the little sister get split up. I think she hands the kid off to the girlfriend before the big reveal and tells them both to leave now and keep their heads down, so as to shield them from being openly associated with her.

This, implicitly, places immense trust in their community--a single word from anyone on that farm would kill them both, but one fugitive travels faster and more securely than three, even with a dog...and her sister is five.

It works--for a while.

Black Lotus comes back for the finale.

[riviae]

so anyway... did anyone ask for a regis-centric character study set during his time in beauclair in ‘lady of the lake’ ft. angouleme? no? well i wrote it anyway lol:

Beauclair was a fairytale place—that much Regis was certain of. However, even fairytales bore monsters, gave blood and bone to things that were better off not existing at all. And, more often than not, fairytales gave birth to monsters in the shape of men. 

The land was an illusion of peace, a mirage of vineyards and bustling cities that fed the monsters that thrived there. Where there was peace, there would also be strife. Where there was laughter, there were also tears. Where there were innocents, so also were there those who sought to spill blood. Regis had not spilled blood in a long time, but some of his more... tumultuous memories resurfaced during the full moon, the urge to fly high above the castle battlements and walls giving way to more long-repressed desires. 

He wanted to fly. He also desired a drink—though this wasn’t confined to full moons. He settled on walking and humming the melody of some tawdry ballad that Dandelion had composed when they reached the Sansretour Valley. Regis could have misted through the cobblestone streets as a barely perceptible fog—in fact, it was how he had favored to travel before his encounter with Geralt and his rag-tag hansa—but his time spent traipsing the narrow pathways of Beauclair with his companions had made him oddly nostalgic. Walking at a human’s pace allowed him the chance to reminisce, to commit the sprawling array of shops and houses to memory. 

To his right, he saw a row of apartments painted a soft peach, dark green ivy climbing over an overhanging trellis and up the façade of the building. In the mornings, there was often an elderly woman that sat on one of the stoops with her cat. She had a faint Nilfgaardian accent and spoke animatedly with Cahir, who, to Regis’ surprise, smiled and laughed brightly. Regis could count on one hand the number of times Cahir had laughed in his company, which was only once more than Geralt. 

Without the winged helmet and cape, Cahir looked almost boyish, his tan, freckled skin and dark hair giving the impression of someone who worked hot summer days on his parent’s farm. In truth, with just his sword at his side, Cahir did not look like a soldier or even a knight. It was only in his most basic mannerisms such as the way he postured himself as he walked, the subtle way he mapped a room with his gaze, his back always pressed to a wall, that betrayed his years of service as a soldier. War had not yet taken the kindness from his eyes or the gentleness by which he spoke to Milva, Angouleme, Regis, Dandelion, and, at times, Geralt. So, along with his politeness, it was only natural that he would be popular with the older generations. 

Regis stopped in front of the elderly woman’s door, his eyes shining silver in the flickering lamplight. In the dark, he could see that she did not choose to close her window, the drapes within the first-floor bedroom moving almost imperceptibly due to the mild draft.

In a fairytale, a monster would materialize from the shadows to crawl through the window. It would approach the woman’s bed, its rows of teeth poised over her, only to have its head lobbed off by some kindly knight. 

The vampire approached the window. He could hear her snoring loudly, heard her shaky intake of breath and then a brief stutter. It was a moment where she had stopped breathing, but Regis was not worried. Most sleep apneas were generally harmless and he did not hear any other telltale signs of more serious ailments such as excess fluid in her lungs. In fact, her lungs and even her heart seemed strong. It was likely nothing more than apnea brought on by the muscles of her throat relaxing, something that could be treated by learning to sleep on her side or abdomen. 

Quietly, and without difficulty, he misted into the room. He locked the window and closed the drapes before disappearing again, this time the dark fog of his incorporeal form crawling underneath the space between the stoop and the door. When he reappeared, he was human-shaped and he suddenly felt the lateness of the night tugging at his eyelids. Sleep was not always necessary for his kind, but it was a luxury he had been spoiled with ever since coming to reside in Beauclair castle. 

It had become a habit thanks to Angouleme’s insistence on sleep being a ‘good fucking elixir to any ailment’—her diction taken, more or less, from Regis, but sprinkled with her choice of vulgarities. It was quite endearing. And it also explained why he spent some afternoons in the shared common area within their wing of the castle, tome in hand, dozing now and again on a wide chaise lounge while the flaxen-haired girl snored in his ear. Sometimes even Milva would join them, though she took to the adjacent sofa and either played cards with Cahir or sharpened her arrowheads. Geralt, on the exceedingly rare days where he wasn’t tangled up with Fringilla Vigo or taking on a contract, sat in the armchair and scribbled in his own personal bestiary, gazing now and again discreetly at his dozing company with an expression that could almost be described as tender. 

Perhaps he truly was getting old even for vampire standards, he thought, returning to the present. Giving a very human yawn that he covered reflexively with his palm, Regis turned away from the apartment and immediately met the gaze of two teenagers. One of which who had brandished a small, curved hunting knife. 

If they had seen Regis reappear from a spindle of smoke, neither teen acted as if it mattered. As if all he had done was but an elaborate parlor trick, as evident by the way that more muscular teenager pressed the blade silently and fervently to his neck. The vampire allowed himself to be pushed into the nearby alley and against a brick wall as the blade pressed deeper into his skin. 

A few beads of red dripped down the knife, splattering onto the ground in a star-like shape. The pain barely registered to the vampire, though his nostrils flared at the scent of sweat and alcohol. The teenager with the knife to his throat was sober, though possibly high on fisstech if his dilated pupils were any indication, but the other boy, lean and dressed in black with a sabre at his side, had definitely been drinking. He smelled of cheap beer and blood—many people’s blood. 

“Looks like you’ve caught us a meddler, Boris,” said the boy with the sabre. He pulled a metal flask from his belt and took a swig, wiping the excess with the back of his hand. “Listen here, grandpa, we’ve been casing this place for weeks. So instead of worrying about some elderly wench, you should focus on yourself.”

Boris flashed a grin that sent a sinking feeling to the pit of Regis’ stomach. It was a wholly familiar grin. One that he had given long ago, so long ago that it felt like he had dreamed it. “This guy looks like a fucking tax collector, doesn’t he? Hey, gramps, you’ve got any coin on you? You must, it’s Beauclair, after all.” 

“I’d bet he has more coin than common sense. Only a senile old coot would walk around alone at night, ” the other boy added, snickering. “It’d be almost a mercy to kill him.”

It was, disturbingly, like looking into a mirror of his youth. The jeering, the recklessness, the utter lack of respect or dignity for life—they were young, stupid, and thought the world owed them something. Something that they had no qualms taking violently. 

This is what I was like before, he thought to himself. I only cared about myself. I lived to drink—and died for it, too. How pitiful.  

His inner thoughts were interrupted by a swift strike to his cheek. Boris had dropped the knife in favor of using his fists, one hand curled around the vampire’s throat while the other prepared to punch him squarely in the jaw. Regis fought the urge to snarl, settling on a frustrated huff. If they realized he was not human, he would likely have to kill them. He did not want to—bloodshed no longer suited him. At least that was what he kept telling himself whenever the option for violence arose. 

Regis did not fear many things. He did not fear fighting or war or even death, really. But he also knew that there were many fates worse than death. He feared returning to the habits and mindset of his youth, of losing the respect he had for others that had taken centuries to come to fruition. Regis was not naturally kind; kindness did not come easy to him. But he was naturally good at learning through observation and, like any skill, kindness could be cultivated—even in the worst of people if given the time to change. Or so he believed.

“Listen to us when we’re talking to you, old man,” Boris hissed none too kindly, this time reaching to tug at Regis’ greying hair. “Vinny, let’s just kill the guy already and go rob that wench.” 

“No,” Vinny replied, his tone almost playful. “I’m just starting to have some fun.” 

The words echoed loudly in the vampire’s ear, alchemizing into a voice that he recognized as his own. 

“I’m just starting to have some fun,” Regis remembered himself saying as he rose from the barstool, lips pulled into a sneer. In a blink of an eye he had crossed the entire distance of the tavern to seize a drunken man by the scruff of his neck. 

“Now, now, there’s no need for tears, my good fellow,” he said calmly, pulling the man closer. “We’re just having a party and need your… contribution.” Fangs met flesh then, the man’s outcry cut short as Regis dug his teeth cruelly into his neck. The vampire rolled the body away from himself when he was done, barely sparing it a second glance. He was already thinking of where he could get his next drink now that the last human patron of the tavern was dead, adding to his morbid pile of bodies. 

Back in the present, the lean, dark-haired teenager had traded places with Boris, choosing instead to point his sabre directly at the vampire’s Adam’s apple. 

Again… must I always have swords pointed at my throat? 

Vinny blinked, dark eyes widening in surprise. “Huh, well I’ll be damned. The old man’s got a sense of humor.” 

Regis, who had not realized he had spoken his previous thought aloud, hid his own shock with a hum of agreement. “Amongst other things,” he said, voice calm and polite. “Anyway, I’d be more than willing to part with some of my coin if you would be so kind as to lower your weapon. I am not in any mood to fight.” 

“But what if I’m looking for a fight?” Vinny goaded. 

Regis sighed. Perhaps he couldn’t talk his way out of a confrontation. He was tempted to use hypnotism, to simply have the pair fall into a drunken slumber beside the nearest gutter, but there was no guarantee that they wouldn’t prey on some other innocent citizen the moment they awoke. “I’m sorry,” Regis began, tone and expression severe, “But a fight with me is equivalent to courting death.” 

“This old fuck must be on something…” Boris muttered, a full-body shudder wracking his muscular frame at Regis’ tone. “Let’s go, Vin. Something doesn’t feel right about all this.” 

Before Vinny could respond he was cutoff by a distinctly raucous laugh from the mouth of the alleyway. “Hey, uncle!” a familiar voice chirped. “Need a hand?” 

“Angouleme?” Regis breathed, watching as the teen approached, both hands shoved casually in her pockets. 

As she approached, her grin grew even wider. It was an expression that very much reminded Regis of a feline who had gotten its claws hooked into a canary. “Oho, now look at what the cat dragged in! Vinny and Boris, it’s been awhile, you whoresons.” 

“Angouleme,” Boris greeted, giving a nervous look to Vinny. “What are you doing all the way in Beauclair? Thought the Nightingales didn’t travel this far south.” 

“They don’t—I’m not a part of their shit gang anymore. They’re also all very, very dead.” At this, Angouleme flashed another wide grin, giving the two boys a wink. “So maybe don’t bother my Uncle Regis anymore if you don’t wanna end up in the ground.” 

“Fuck this,” Vinny groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He lowered the sabre from Regis’ throat with a frown and stepped away. “Ang, we were just casing some house when your uncle or whatever showed up.” 

Regis took the brief interlude to fix the collar of his shirt, smoothing out the creases in the dark fabric. His gaze then returned to Angouleme who had now stepped in front of him, acting as a barrier between him and the two teenagers as much as her petite, lithe frame would allow.

“I’m sure you were,” Angouleme agreed. “But y’know what else I think, Vinny? I think you’re just out looking for someone to kill. Steal from whoever, I don’t care—but watch your blade. Too many murders in one area and people are bound to notice.” 

“Almost sounds like you’ve gone soft, Angouleme,” Boris said, tone neither accusatory nor playful—as if he was only stating a very obvious fact. 

“Almost sounds like I should’ve let Uncle Regis kill you two,” Angouleme replied icily. Her right hand twitched, ready to reach for the blade she kept hidden in her boot—a gift courteous of Milva after she had lost her own. “No one’s going soft, especially not me. Go find some drunk in a ditch to rob if you must and then get the fuck out of Beauclair.” 

“And what if we don’t want to leave?” Vinny asked with obvious bloodlust. “What’ll you do then, Ang? Because I don’t believe for a second that your geriatric, grey-haired babysitter could even throw a punch before I have him gored on my sword.” 

Angouleme cackled, a feral glint in her eyes. “Since uncle doesn’t like resorting to violence very much and I’m feeling particularly nice tonight, I’d be sure to kill ya both myself. And since we used to run in the same circles, I’d make it a quick death too. You’d both be bleeding out before you even had a chance to piss yourselves in fear. Call it a friendly discount—two quick, painless deaths. Hell, I’ll even bury your bodies so the birds don’t dine on your insides.” 

“Now there’s the girl I remember,” Vinny said, whistling appreciatively. “You always had a way with words. You were all bark and bite. But now I wonder if you’ve been muzzled; why else would you be traveling around with a man who looks like a bank teller?” 

“If I may interject?” Regis asked, raising a hand politely. Angouleme whipped her head back to shoot the vampire a confused look. 

Regis cleared his throat. “I think there’s another way we can settle this. Without bloodshed.” Not waiting for a reply, Regis turned his gaze to Vinny and Boris, sighing. He addressed the dark-haired man first. “Vinny, was it? You like killing, don’t you?” 

Vinny nodded, tone expressionless. “It’s fun. I like hearing ‘em scream. Why do all these people get to live cushy, painless lives here in the city? What’d they do to deserve a good life? Nothing. I’m just here to settle the score. Be the monster all these rich folk told me I’d be growing up. It’s a bonus that I enjoy it.” 

Boris gawked at the other teen. “What the fuck? Why’re you admitting all that? Have you gone fucking mad?” 

Regis continued, ignoring Boris’ outcry. “So you feel that you have some right to kill? Because you were wronged in life?”

“Yeah, I do. I’m good at stealing and killing. It came with practice. Do anything long enough and you learn to develop a taste for it.”

“I see…” Regis trailed, now turning his attention to the other teen. “Boris. Why do you follow Vinny? I can tell that you have less of a stomach for murder than him. Though it seems as if you are fine with violence… within reason. ” 

“He’s a right bastard but he’s also my only friend. I can’t abandon him no matter how much I want to sometimes. He likes getting into trouble—starting brawls, drinking till he pukes, murdering when he doesn’t have to, racking up as many bounties on his head as he can without it being chopped off—and it’s up to me to keep him from going too far. From getting himself killed.” 

Regis smiled sadly. “You think you’re helping him. But in actuality, you are enabling him. I don’t blame you, however; it’s often difficult to tell the difference.” 

“So what’re you gonna do with ‘em, uncle?” Angouleme piped up, eyes wide with admiration for the vampire. “Wish you could teach me how to hypnotize people… seems like it’d come in handy,” she added, kicking at a loose stone. 

“Hmm… well, I’ll actually leave that to you, Angouleme. You know them better than I do. Do you have a solution? We can’t just leave them to their own devices.” 

At this, Angouleme paused, brows furrowing. She deliberated for a few moments, tilting her head from side to side until she snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! Keep ‘em still for a second, uncle.” 

Regis nodded, focusing on keeping the two teens in place. 

Swiftly, and without any preamble, Angouleme landed a solid kick to Vinny’s right arm, relishing in the loud crack that followed. The teen howled then, the pain freeing him from Regis’ influence. 

“Fuck!” He cursed, falling to his knees to curl up into a ball. His outcry was jarring enough to snap Boris from his own trance, panic flooding the teen’s face at the sight of his friend curled on the ground. 

“Hey, Boris,” Angouleme drawled casually, smile curling even wider at the way the larger teen steps back instinctively in fear.“ Do me a favor, will ya? Take Vinny and get out of here. Help him heal and teach him how to control his anger. Not everyone in the world is out to get ya; you don’t need to take a swing at every person you come across. So if I hear about you two causing any sort of ruckus I’ll make sure to break more than an arm. Got it?” 

With a shaky nod, Boris helped Vinny back to his feet. In mere moments the pair had disappeared, skittering out of the back alley as fast as they could. 

“Thank you, Angouleme,” Regis said, smiling in his own gentle way, the tips of his fangs peaking out from beneath his lips. “You were able to defuse the situation rather brilliantly—with no bloodshed. Impressive.” 

At the genuine praise, the flaxen-haired teen looked away, embarrassed. She didn’t want Regis to see how her cheeks had reddened at his words. Praise was rare; before joining Geralt’s hansa, she had only been praised for her prowess at killing and stealing. This was different. She wasn’t doing something because she wanted the praise or attention or the safety that came with being stronger and more dangerous than her peers—she was simply doing what she thought was right. 

As they walked back to the castle, Angouleme gave a contented sigh, tilting her head up towards the full moon. 

“It’s a nice night, isn’t it?”

“It is, my dear Angouleme. It certainly is.” 

Angouleme smiled, gaze softening. “Think we’ll get more nights like this?” 

“I hope so,” Regis replied, voice thick with something akin to melancholy. 

At that, Angouleme snickered, nudging the vampire’s shoulder playfully. “Heh, you sounded so sentimental there. Don’t tell me you’re gonna miss going on long walks with a brat like me. ” 

“…I’m going to miss a lot of things about Beauclair. Mostly, though, I think I’m going to miss all these fragile moments of peace.  I know even good times must end—we still have a quest to complete, after all. Geralt’s ward is still in danger. But being here was nice. And I especially enjoyed our walks, Angouleme.” 

Together, they walked the winding road back to the castle. Home, Angouleme thought a moment later. They were going home. It was the first time that she had ever thought of a place as home. There had been houses, small huts and backwater inns that she had lived in, sure—but home implied belonging. She had a place where she belonged with the friends she now saw as family. 

And if Regis noticed the few stray, happy tears that brimmed in her eyes, he politely didn’t mention it.

He too was busy reminiscing--his life had changed the moment he decided to follow Geralt, to join his company and work to save his ward. Even if it amounts to nothing but ash, Regis thought, I won’t regret my choice. Here, with everyone, is where I know I belong. I don’t know if this story will end like a fairytale or a nightmare, but at least I won’t be alone. Not anymore. 

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

The OTHER Members of Eve’s Coven

Me and @lilmissrantsypants couldn’t fit all the coven in as cameos in chapter 3, so here’s a rundown on the members who didn’t make an appearance. I added some of the stuff that inspired us into making the characters, My wife just went crazy with descriptions for her characters.

Aleister & Tantomile Deering: A pair of twins who were orphaned during WWII. They had to scrape by to survive, with Tantomile whoring herself out for drug money. They were turned when Aleister begged for help as his sister was overdosing. They were plagued by psychic visions as mortals, their powers awakening fully when they were turned. They are practically inseperable nowadays.

Power: Aleister and Tantomile have innate psychic abilities, activated by touching someone. Tantomile can see into a person’s past, while Aleister can see multiple outcomes the future could hold and then latch on to the most likely scenario. Their vampiric power is a twin link that allows them to experience the emotions the other one does, as well as keep them connected.

Inspiration: The psychic cat twins Tantomile and Coripocat from Cats 

My wife came up with the basic concept and we workshopped them together from there; it’s a joint effort. She does Tantomile, I do Aleister.

Bartholomew Comstock: An overly aggressive puritan who was despised by his fellow townsfolk, he was banished from his New England home and forced to start a farm on his own. He nearly perished in the winter before Eve turned him. His hatred at being a disgusting, demonic creature such as a vampire is only ameliorated by his knowledge that Eve, having once been the angel Samael, ‘confirms’ his beliefs and allows him to eternally punish those he views as sinners.

Power: He believes his power gives him great strength against sinners, allowing him to inflict pain upon those who have done foul deeds. In truth, it is actually his own sins that give him strength, though his power does weaken as he exerts himself or runs low on blood (he cannot become unstoppably powerful).

Inspiration: The dad from The VVitch

Beatrix Cullen: Beatrix Cullen was a happy woman once, a skilled seamstress in the 1950s who simply loved the act of creation. She had an adoring boyfriend, and the two were set to be married, with Beatrix making a gorgeous wedding dress for her special day. But on that day, her groom never arrived, as he had been killed in a car accident on the way. Stricken by grief, Beatrix was easily convinced by Eve to join her coven, with the promise that perhaps her power could help her bring her husband back some day...

Power: Beatrix can imbue any object such as a sculpture or statue with life, essentially making golems without a magic scroll. Her most trusted golem is her mannequin, Manny, who often tries to steal her wedding dress. Her ultimate goal is to use her natural skills and her power to bring her husband back to life, stitching a Frankenstein monster of him and pieces of sleazy men who hit on her into a perfect flesh golem.

Inspirations: The bride from the Haunted Mansion, Kill Bill, Frankenstein, that one Tumblr post about 50s housewives fighting zombies with chainsaws, La Pascualita, Pegasus from Yu-Gi-Oh

Blanche Atterton: Daughter of Lady Drusilla Atterton, she grew up wanting nothing more than her mother’s love, though her mother was often far too preoccupied with “other things” (which she later learned was all of her plotting and planning to ensure her riches).When given the choice for vampirism, she excitedly vowed her loyalty to her mother and Eve. As she was only 15 at the time and children would not survive the turning, her mother waited until she turned 21 before turning her.Blanche does everything for her mother’s attention and love. She doesn’t hesitate to do her bidding in hopes of her mother praising her for it. She’s misguided, not evil, though her mother’s praise has given her a superiority complex and she’s a bit of a narcissist.

Power:  Blanche’s power gives her a powerful, painful scream. Those within 5 feet of her screaming will suffer from temporary deafness for 5 minutes. Whether they fall deaf or not, bleeding from the ears is very common, especially among mortals.

Inspiration: Drizella from Cinerella

Dee Comporre: Giorgio Nero’s faithful, somewhat obsessed bodyguard. She quite obviously has a crush on him due to her hatred of any woman who so much as interacts with Giorgio, though Giorgio just sees her as being a bit overprotective. She has a shaved head, and paints her face to look like a skull.

Power: She can secrete and spit a powerful corrosive acid that can melt through even metal.

Inspirations: D’Compose from InHumanoids

Dorian Ferris: A serial killer known as “The Ferryman,” who always leaves coins over his victim’s eyes. As a mortal, he had far too many close calls, and was nearly caught several times, particularly during a bout in a town back in 1999. He tends to target wicked people such as domestic abusers, rapists, crooked cops, and so on, sending them down the River Styx ahead of time to make the world a better place. He willingly joined the coven to escape punishment. More than anything, he just wishes to live a quiet, peaceful life.

Power: Has luck manipulation, which can allow him to do everything from dodge attacks by near misses or turn his surroundings into a Final Destination movie for opponents. He tends to activate a particular mode based on the whims of a coin toss. 

Inspirations: Jinx from Teen Titans, Final Destinatiin, Two-Face, Yoshikage Kira

Elizabeth Bathory:   The Blood Countess herself. After evading death in the 1600s thanks to Eve, she became a loyal follower of the demon, and was recruited into the Order of the 1800s. Dracula and Rasputin managed to defeat her and supposedly kill her, but Bathory is notoriously hard to slay. True to her infamous reputation, she tends to “Feed” by bathing in the blood of her victims. 

Power:Bathing in blood gives her an insane power boost; the longer she soaks, the stronger she gets. She can also absorb blood through her skin, though she can’t absorb the blood of supernatural beings this way.

Elvis Rey: Growing up near the border, Elvis always wanted to be like his hero, Elvis PResley. He obsessively watched the man’s performances and learned his every move. When the man died, he vowed he was going to become the greatest Elvis impersonator that ever lived. The 80s weren’t too kind to him, and drinking, gambling, and overeating left him looking like chubby later-years Elvis. With debt collectors crawling down his neck, he turned to Eve, and became a powerful vampire.

Power: He is capable of replicating any non-supernatural ability he sees. For example, if he watched a martial arts movie, he would be able to pull off those moves. Think the comic book character Taskmaster. 

Inspirations: Elvis (Presley), Elvis (God Hand)

Giorgio Nero: Giorgio Nero was a member of Cosa Nostra who attempted to retire from this life due to his wife and child. However, his past would eventually catch up with him, and his child was nearly killed, which lead to Giorgio accepting an offer he had once rejected, but now couldn’t refuse: vampirism and joining with Eve’s coven. Despite everything, he is an honorable man who dearly loved his wife and adores and accepts his child.

Power: You know Magneto? Like from X-Men? Imagine that but instead of a Holocaust survivor it’s an Italian guy. Boom.

Inspirations: Magneto, Risotto Nero from Vento Aureo, Metlar from InHumanoids

James Wilson: James was born in 1812 as a slave. When he was 8, he was gifted to the man one of his master’s daughters married, along with 13 other slaves. As his former master’s name was Wilson, he took that as his surname. He worked as a stablehand until he became a farmer at age 12. After a rather brutal beating when he accidentally dropped a bag of freshly picked potatoes at age 25, James encountered Eve. She promised to help free him. She turned him into a vampire (1837). He lived on the run until the Emancipation Proclamation was issued and went into full effect in 1863. James used to speak in thick, Gullah speech, but over time, it has lessened as he acquired modern language.

Power: James’s power gives him the ability to summon and play with water. He can use it however he wishes: to drown someone, to create a small unnatural pool to swim in, or to cool someone off with a quick sprinkle. This comes from his silent love for water, though he wasn’t ever allowed to swim or play in it.

Inspiration: Splash Mountain

Juno Nero: The child of Giorgio Nero. They tend to wear long black coats, masks, and facial bandages to hide their face and body due to extreme anxiety. They are mute as well, and communicate via sign language. They are nonbinary.

Power: They can stretch their body like rubber (think Elastigirl, Rubber Band Man, Plastic Man, you get the idea).

Inspiration: Tendril from InHumanoids

Lady Drusilla Atterton: Born in 1852 in England as Drusilla Graham to a middle-class family. She grew up idolizing the wealthy and decided she would do whatever it took to become wealthy herself.Met Josiah Kipling, a 28 year old man, when she was 22. He fell madly in love with her. She was overjoyed as he was quite wealthy. They married in 1874 and had two daughters together (Katharine [1875] and Blanche [1877]). However, after 8 years of marriage (1882), Drusilla (now age 30) fell out of love with him and secretly laced his food with rat poison, ultimately killing him. As they had personal chefs, it was deemed to be the fault of the chef, who was arrested and charged with the crime. As his widow, she inherited a share of his wealth.Over the next 10 years (1882-1892), Drusilla married 8 other wealthy men from all over the country, all who mysteriously died less than a year later in what were deemed to be unfortunate accidents.

Donald Thompson, married in 1883, died in a carriage accident.

Maurice Parker, married in 1884, died of a laudanum overdose.

Timothy Edwards, married in 1886, died by drowning

Christopher Watson, married in 1887, died by falling out of a second story window

Nathaniel Harris, married in 1888, died of apparent suicide

Bernard Carter, married in 1890, died of a hunting accident

Percy Clarke, married in 1891, died after being attacked by a burglar

Timothy Atterton, married in 1892, died in bed (cause unknown)

She met Eve in 1892 shortly after marrying Timothy Atterton. Eve had heard of her reputation as the Cursed Widow (but knew full well her husbands’ deaths were her doing). As Eve was extremely weakened, Amon turned her. With Eve’s assistance, she killed her final husband by scaring him to death by introducing him to Eve. Drusilla vowed her loyalty.With the knowledge of how to turn another from Eve (as Amon refused to tell her how), Drusilla offered the gift of vampirism to each of her daughters. Katharine ( refused and cut herself off from her mother, instead choosing to live a full and honest life. Blanche, on the other hand, being so keen to be accepted and loved by her mother vowed her own loyalty to both her mother and Eve. When she turned 21, Drusilla turned her as well (as she was informed that youth would not survive the turning).

Power: Her  power allows her to paralyze her target with a simple cold stare for a full 5 minutes.

Inspiration: Lady Tremaine from Cinderella

Lord Gordon Ruthven: A rich, aristocratic vampire who enjoyed luring in and preying on young women. He was part of the Order of the 19th century. He is currently a severed head, as his body was destroyed by the Silverwings.

Power: Can exude a charm aura that makes women more susceptible to his commands and desires, though it only works on women capable of being attracted to him (it would not work on lesbains, for instance).

Mabel Lockhart: A sickly young girl whose father made a deal with Eve to keep her from dying. Her dad is currently missing, and she is unsure if he’s even alive.

Power: She has the ability to absorb energy, such as steam energy, electrical energy, etc and gain boosts and power depending on what type she absorbs. For example, absorbing electrical energy would allow her to to shoot lightning. She can also absorb a person’s energy, but at most she can make them very lethargic and gets little else from absorbing that sort of energy.

Inspiration: Loosely based on the Pokemon Magearna

Maddox Hinton: Maddox was born in 1863 in a small town in England. He doesn’t talk much about his past, but he does boast about how he and his father were valued hypnotists in their small town. He was his father’s apprentice, learning how the art of hypnotism worked, though he wasn’t quite as successful as his father. This was what Eve used to convince him to turn to vampirism. It occurred when he was 25 and preparing to take over the family business.His power helped him convince his customers that they were actually under the effects of hypnotism. His father simply believed that taking over the business helped him tap into his true potential. 

He continued this way until Eve demanded his help. He lied to his dad, telling him he was going to travel abroad and spread their business, causing his father to take over the business once again.Maddox served Eve for a few years before she told him she didn’t need his help anymore. It was likely this that irritated him so much that he eventually became loyal to Amon while under the very convincing facade he’s loyal to Eve.

The rest of his past is unknown. All he will often tell people is he traveled all over the world, performing great feats under fake names as “world-renown hypnotists”. Maddox is a wild card. He does things for the fun of it or for his own pleasure, often without any sympathy towards others.

Power: Maddox’s power allows him to take control of another (similarly to Gabby’s). However, he can take control of up to two people at once. Instead of physically puppeteering them, he simply suggests they do something and they do it.

Inspiration: Vex from Lost Girl

Margaret Derwin: Margaret was born in New York City in 1902. She grew up with a love for music, particularly singing. She had dreams of becoming a famous singer.When she was 18, she pursued these dreams. She got a job as a dancer at a speakeasy with hopes of, eventually, being able to become one of their singers in time. It was there that she met Elizabeth, one of the other dancers. They secretly fell in love (which answered Margaret’s confusion about why she wasn’t interested in men). Eventually, they decided to run away to California together. They made plans and prepared for this, but on the day it was to happen, Elizabeth never showed up. Margaret later discovered she had changed her mind and, instead, was going to marry a man she’d met at the speakeasy.Eve found Margaret heartbroken and wandering the streets looking for a new job after quitting at the speakeasy (as it was too difficult to continue working there when Elizabeth was still there). Eve easily wooed her to her side. Though, as Margaret had good intentions, Amon had eventually been able to convince her to assist him instead as he wanted to ensure Eve would stop preying on innocent people like herself.

Power:  Margaret’s power involves her voice. Through singing, she can influence one’s emotions depending on her intentions (anger them, seduce them, calm them down, soothe them to sleep).

Nora: Nora’s memories are very faded. She knows she was born to a very poor family in Ireland. She knows she was sold as an indentured servant at age 13 in exchange for her tickets to America, board, and food. She knows she worked for that American family for 7 years. She knows she caught influenza and was promptly fired by the family for fear she’d infect them all. She knows she was near death, wandering the streets alone, when a massive black snake promised to save her. At the time, Nora believed it was just an illusion. She found out the next day, however, that it was not. She’d been saved by the gift of vampirism.Nora lived a long, long time as a homeless woman. She watched as America grew into a country of its own. She preyed on any she could find in order to survive. Eventually, she took residence in an abandoned house on a street. Over time, rumors spread that a ghost lived in the house on Blackwell Street. Her appearance and her power did much to add to this as well, as did the occasional mysterious deaths of those who wandered into the house hoping to catch a glimpse of the ghost.

Power: Nora’s power allows her to become visible or invisible on command. She can only switch from one to the other every 10 minutes. She often uses this to frighten mortals and uphold her identity as the Ghost of Blackwell Street.

Tony Sugar:  Tony Sugar is the owner, spokesman, and iconic figure of the Lost Paradise Candy Company. With the help of Amon, he became one of the first successful Black candy makers in America. He’s very flamboyant, campy, and charismatic—essentially a black Willy Wonka. He is pansexual because, in his own words, “everyone deserves a little Sugar.” He is also an avid beekeeper.

Power:  He has the power to “mellify” corpses, filling them with a honey-like substance and turning them into zombies.

Inspirations: Tony Todd’s Candyman, Ruby Rhod, the song “Sweet Bod,” the myth of the mellified man

Walter Sherman: Formerly a college professor and devoted family man from the dawn of the 20th century, Walter was a good man known for always thinking forward and being able to accept new changes in the world. However, when a freak accident claimed the life of his wife and child, he couldn’t handle it and attempted suicide before being saved by Amon. He’s mostly in the coven out of loyalty to Amon.

Power: He has the power of adaptability, allowing him to easily adapt to any situation. For example, using lightning against him would make him adapt lightning resistance.

Inspirations: The Carousel of Progress

Wayne Nicol: A formerly friendly clown who was forced to witness unspeakable horrors during WWII. He survived the horrors, but was left fundamentally disturbed by the nightmare he had lived through. He joined the coven hoping to find some sort of safety, but as it turned out, Eve had other plans.

Power: Has the power to control and manipulate a person’s fears to weaponize against them.

Inspirations: Scarecrow (Batman), Pennywise, Freddy Krueger, The Day the Clown Cried

[pulpwriterx]

BEN SOLO ALL THESE YEARS

Rey decided to stay on Tattoine.

The desert, after all, was her home.

Poe went back into the spice business, and even branched out to include good booze and cigarillos.

Finn joined him in yo ho, you ho,  a pirate's life for me.

And in their business?

They needed a good scavenger.

A year or  so went by.

Finn and Poe bought themselves a posh bachelor pad in Anchorhead, but Rey preferred solitude.

She knew that that both of them would have been willing to give her a shoulder to cry on, and the benefit of a man's company.

But after the way Ben died in her arms, Rey wasn’t ready to hold a man, again.

The old Skywalker farm didn’t look like it, but it was a nice place to live.

It had been Ben’s home, after all. 

He had left the outside looking run down and desolate, like no one lived there, but past the blighted door in the dusty courtayrd, it was a different story.

Typical Ben.

When you took off his mask, he had another mask on beneath that, and beneath that was a big story, a tall tale, and a pack of ever-evolving half-truths and outright lies.

He had restored the old farm, on the inside, and underneath, where the farming equipment and tanks had been, he kept a smuggler’s treasure trove.

Tunnels filled with all kinds of swag, from booze and cigarillos to old Rebel Alliance and Imperial Uniforms, and less innocent cargo like crates of blasters and pallets of coaxium.

There was also five years of food and supplies, and one of the tanks had even been converted into a vault. It was full of credits, black molded chests of Imperial gold coins, money from all over the Galaxy.

Ben had left the farm, and all it’s contents to Rey Skywalker.

He had also left the Millenium Falcon to Rey, but she hadn’t the heart to fly the ship she loved so much.

With both Ben and Han Solo dead, neither with a final resting place?

The ship was like their tomb.

The Falcon, and Ben’s secret refuge, with it’s hidden treasures; they were all, in some strange way, his legacy.

When Rey wasn’t whizzing around the stars with her friends, she led a peaceful, solitary life as the guardian of the legacy of the family that gave all for the peace that finally broke out in the Galaxy.

Besides, she wasn’t wholly alone.

Poe always let BB8 go with her, to keep tabs on her, and Threepio and Artoo were glad to finally get to go home.

It was a special place for her.

In the two years between when she and Ben killed Snoke, and when they killed the Emperor?

They used to meet at the Skywalker Farm.

Their bonds remained unbroken, even after she had rejected his offer to join him,  and they had grown closer, not just through the talks, and the laughing, and the stories, most of which were lies.

Yelling.

Pointing fingers.

Sneering.

Cursing.

Stamping feet.

Breaking things.

Throwing shit about.

Lightsaber duels.

Even the bad times, even the shit times were precious to her, now.

Rey would sit, quietly, watching the twin suns, and think about the past.

Like the time they had a horrible fight through their bond, and called each other vicious names, and threw things at each other, and smashed up their own gear, in a rage.

But then Ben had said.

“I need to see you in person, Rey.”

“Why? What can we do in person that we can’t do through our little talks?”

“We can make love. Don’t you want to? I do.”

“There is nothing like love between us, Kylo Ren!”

Ben had given her the Solo shrug.

“Then we can fuck. I'd rather fuck. I was just trying to be chivalrous.”

And somewhere in their laughter, they had agreed to meet at the Skywalker farm, on Tattoine.

Rey had no idea that Ben had a home, and it became their refuge.

Rey would lie there, in Ben's big, brass bed, and close her eyes and think about when he was there, beside her.

Those stolen days and nights where they would laugh, and fight, and screw, and cuddle under the fur blanket in the cold desert night and plan for a future they both knew would never happen.

Sometimes, she could almost feel his big body, lying there beside her, and she could smell his scent.

Hear his voice.

Feel the way her little body had moved under his big, strong hands.

Of course she would also lie there and think about their lovemaking and take care of her business.

She could have had Finn, or Poe, but Ben was like an animal, like a man in the state of nature; he had been born without shame, and he had unchained a passion in her that Rey had never known she possessed.

Not that she had been a prude, but her interest in men, and her occasional dealings with them had been, well, ordinary.

Now who the hell would she find to satisfy the unchained, shameless desire that Kylo Ren Ben Solo had awakened in her?

Rey often cried, bitter tears.

But that was life.

Love is death, life is pain, and somehow you muddle through.

***

In the second year since Ben died, Rey was walking down a busy street in Anchorhead when she saw Chewie.

They hugged, and Rey was truly happy.

She took him to Poe and Finn's and they tried to get information out of him, but Chewie would only say he was working.

As he left, he asked Rey a very honest question.

“Are you happy?”

“I am content, Chewie. I have friends, work, a place to live, enough money, and I have peace.”

“But are you happy?”

“No. Happiness died with Ben. A lot of things died for me, with Ben. Love. Hope. Any interest I had in men, poor Poe, and poor Finn. But I still have life. And I can still enjoying being content with it.”

***

A few nights later, Rey had a dream about Ben.

It was a wild, sweaty, deeply pornographic wet dream that she woke up from in the throes of the kind of an orgasm women could only have in their dreams.

Or, if they were lucky, with bad men like Ben Solo.

She sat up, throwing the blanket off.

“Rey.”

Rey's heart sang an aria.

“Ben! You found your way back? When will I be able to see you?”

But there was no reply.

Leading her to believe, alas, it had only been a beautiful dream.

***

When he had come to Oneness with the Force, Ben Solo found trouble in Paradise.

Master Yoda thought he was ready for the next step.

Master Obi Wan argued that he was too young, and had resolved none of the conflict that had brought him to ruin.

Master Anakin was more direct.

“Though a man, he is still a child. And his life has been suffering and tragedy. He is young, he has found love, and we should not cheat him of the life he has fought so hard to win. Send him back. Let him be Ben Solo, and live his life. He has many years to find the New Path.”

Ben tried to speak, to say what he wanted,  but found he could not.

“Young though he is, yes, but what life for him? Redeemed from Kylo Ren in our eyes. But what of the material world? If return he does, atone he must. But a bullseye on his back there will be!” Yoda insisted.

“That is a problem, Anakin.” Obi –Wan agreed.

“Then we will send my grandson back without healing his body. It will be broken. He will atone with his suffering.  We will send him to a distant planet to make his recovery, alone. Dependant on the charity of strangers he once oppressed.  Then let him make his way to more familiar planets, back to his identity and his home.” Anakin suggested.

“That sounds reasonable. We will give my namesake a test. But, Kylo Ren is dead. Ben Solo should not have to pay for his crimes. Then we will make it so the memory of his mask is preserved in the minds of all. But not his face. “ Obi-Wan suggested.

The others agreed.

“Speak now you may, young Skywalker. Until you find your way back, Skywalker shall you be called. Well? Back do you wish to go?” Yoda asked.

“Yes, Master Yoda. Back I wish to go.”

“Humor you have. Need it, you will.”

“But will I have to endure doctors? Needles?”

“Fear in your face, I see? Tortured you were, young Skywalker? Then your fear you must overcome.  Back you still wish to go?”

“Yes, Master Yoda. I will face my fear.”

“And Ben? No cheating? If your women, strong in the Force as they are, happen to find you? Or your family? We won’t keep them away. But if you call to them? You forfeit this chance.” Anakin told him.

“Wrong that is! In his sleep, will young Skywalker’s soul cry for help! No. Also must we use the Force to interrupt his bond. Until his test is finished. Though he will call? No answer will we allow to come.” Yoda decided.

“I agree. Only by doing the evil that Kylo Ren might have done will you forfeit your chance. Good luck, Ben.” Obi-Wan said

“I have always been with you, my grandson. If you need my strength during your trial? I will answer your call.” Anakin assured Ben

Then, Ben  fell into something like sleep.

***

He had a horrible dream, of waking up bloody and bruised on collapsing Exegol, limping or crawling out of the cave he was in, and then escaping in the still flyable remains of a crashed X-Wing

He woke up in a bacta tank, and panic seized him.

He started banging on the glass walls, screaming through the breather in his mouth.

The noise brought a Rodian in a white coat.

“Hey! Hey Dan, the big guy is awake! By the Force, he looks terrified.”

A guy his age with a moustache rushed into the room.

“Then let’s get him out. It’s OK, big fella. You’re safe. You’re in a Resistance hospital. There’s no more First Order. Nobody’s going to hurt you, here. Hurry up, Needo, help me, before he cracks the tank!”

The machine Ben was suspended from pulled him out, and he ripped all the wires off of his body, and crashed to the ground.

“No! No doctors! Get away from me!” he shouted.

Reduced to crawling away.

But there was nowhere to go.

“Its OK. There’s no torture droids here. You don’t have to get any injections. We're not going to bring you to the point of death, then put you in a bacta tank to fix you up, and then do it again.”

“You know about that?”

“The Empire did it to me the first time. I have a scar like the one on your other leg. But mine is only a few inches long. You must have really suffered.” The grey haired man said.

“I did. Where am I? Who are you? How much longer will this plexi-cast be on?”

The Rodian came with a long orange smock with the Resistance symbol on it, folded on a wheelchair.

“I’m Dan Antilles. I’m your doctor. You crash landed here, on Hoth. And you need another three weeks with that cast. Let me help you up. Now you might want to put this smock on, big fella. This is the size we usually use for Wookies.”

The Rodian helped Ben put the smock on.

It had long sleeves and it was fleecy and soft on the inside.

“I know you want crutches, but the break in your femur was bad. So, if you like being in the shape you’re in, and you want that leg to hold you up, later? Wheelchair. Nobody has to push you if you’d rather wheel yourself.”

Ben sat in the wheelchair, lifting his leg onto the platform for it.

“I can wheel myself.” He said.

“Good. I’ll show you around the place, and back to your bed.”

“Do you have a name, Big Guy?’

“Ben. Ben Skywalker.”

“Are you a Skywalker from Tattoine or a Skywalker from Arkanis?”

“Both. My grandfather was from Arkanis. His father died, and his mother became an indentured servant on Tattoine. We’re free, now, though.”

“Yeah, my family are from Corellia, but most of by father’s war buddies were from the Outer Rim. Tattoine, mostly. OK, Ben. It’s good to have you back. You scared us a little; we thought you might leave.”

“Me too.”

 ***

Snow.

Watching it snow.

Lying propped up on pillows, leaning against the wall, last cot on the ward.

A cot with a big “W” on it.

For Wookiee.

Techanically, Ben was a Wookiee, when Chewie became his godfather, he was adopted into Chewie’s clan.

Ben was thinking about Kashyyyk, actually, while watching it snow.

Thinking about how he might still be welcome, with Uncle Chewie.

Trying to get his spoon under the cast, to scratch his leg.

Watching it snow.

Blanket up to his chin, one knee up.

“...so, what happened was, there was like, a reason why Ben Solo killed Kylo Ren. More than just, you know, the war. Ben Solo and Kylo Ren, they were at the Jedi Temple together. They were friends. But they had a lightsaber fight over either the Force or a girl. I hear different things. And that's’ why Kylo Ren wore the mask because Ben Solo cut his nose off and scarred up his face...”

“Zak, can you stop talking about men? Why do you think I have my blanket pulled up?”

“You thinking about your nurse?”

“Can you stop talking to me? Forget it.”

“Sorry, Ben.”

“It’s not your fault, Zak. It’s this place.”

He looked out the window again.

Snow.

Snow.

Snow.

“I think about your nurse, too. She’s a big girl. She has to be six feet tall. And, like 200. But it’s in all the right places. And she’s a Twi’lek.” Zak said

“I’d like to jump into that girl and drown. Why isn’t she your nurse?” Ben asked

Zak shrugged.

Ben heaved himself off his cot and into his wheelchair.

“Well, I think I’ll go try to take a piss without pissing all over myself.”

“Good luck, man.”

***

The days bled into each other.

Ben finally looked inside the chest, under his bed, on the ward.

In the chest was his lost lightsaber, the blaster Uncle Lando had given him, his blaster belt, his lucky Sabacc dice, a couple of pair of coveralls, his boots, an X-Wing helmet, a money belt for under your clothes that had 500 credits in it, and a mess kit.

The X-Wing helmet had a number on it.

His Uncle’s.

“Humor you have. Need it, you will.” Ben muttered.

The plexi cast on his left leg came all the way up to his balls, and his leg always itched like it was on fire.

Meanwhile, no one asked him if he was related to  the Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.

When two weeks, and then two more passed and no celebrated persons came to claim him, people assumed that he was some distant relation.

They didn’t release him until after the cast came off, in another week.

Nobody had come for him, and he didn’t call for anyone, so he just left on his own, on a transport with hundreds of other displaced men and women with nowhere special to go.

***

The tiniest hint of a fly in the Force Ghosts’ ointment came around the time that Ben was leaving the Resistance Hospital.

General Leia-Organa Solo, also Senator Leia Organa-Solo, returned to her office on Coruscant as Senate staffers were packing up her things.

One boy almost dropped a picture of her, and Han, and Ben, and Leia caught it.

“Don’t look so frightened. I’m not a ghost.”

“But you’re dead, Senator?”

“I’m a Skywalker. We don’t just die, like other people. We have many deaths and many births, and live many lives inbetween? Less philosophically? I have too much to do to die just now. Maybe in another forty years, or so.”

The next day, after her first appearance in the Second Republic Senate, to announce that she was running for Prime Minister, Leia had an unscheduled visit in her office from Wedge Antilles.

“This had better be really important, Wedge.”

“I think it is. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I was talking to my son, last night. He saw your broadcast and it made him think of a patient of his. A man his own age that hasn’t been far from his mind. A big guy, about two meters, nearly six and a half feet tall. Long dark hair. Dark eyes. Had lots of battle scars. This kid landed a burning X-Wing on Hoth, came out of it with his flight suit in shreds, dragging a broken leg, raving about Exegol, killing them all, and finally being a free man. Spent three weeks in a Bacta tank, recovering from a whole slew of injuries, and another three weeks in a cast up to his nuts. The patient said his name was Ben Skywalker, that his father was a Corellian starpilot and his grandfather was a Skywalker from Arkanis who grew up on Tattoine. As soon as the cast came off, Ben Skywalker got on a transport with a bunch of other kids with nowhere to go and no one to see, and left the planet. And it wasn’t until Dan saw your broadcast that he made the connection, and called me about it. Does that sound like anybody you know, Leia?”

“It does. I’ve been sitting here all day, full of blind, stupid hope. Thinking that if I’m alive, then Ben might be, too. Waiting for that call.”

“Who the hell else would it be?”

“I don’t know, Wedge. But it sounds like he’s running.”

“You need help chasing him?”

“All I can get. We need to find this Ben Skywalker. But if he is my Ben? What the hell do we do, then? Poe Dameron and Rey spread it all over the Galaxy that Ben Solo fought and killed Kylo Ren and the Knights of Ren, and then he died and became One With the Force. And the smart little bastard wore a mask, most of the time.”

“Let it go, Leia. Any way you slice the pie? Kylo Ren is dead. If Ben Solo isn’t? Give him a chance. He killed Snoke. And the Knights of Ren.  He saved Rey. He saved you. And he helped Rey kill Palpatine. I think he deserves it.”

“Well, Chewie will be happy. I’ll talk to him, first.”

***

As soon as the transport landed, Ben began his wandering.

At first he figured it as a kind of  penance, for his many crimes.

He stopped wearing shoes, or cutting his hair and beard, and all he wore was a black hooded robe, closed with a belt from which hung a metal bowl and cup, a holstered knife, and his lightsaber.

At first Ben just begged, and wandered, changing his robes for coveralls and working on freighters for his passage from planet to planet.

But as time went on, he slipped into a lonely madness.

He took to standing on streetcorners and preaching about the evils of the old world.

“Stop and look at me! I am the mistakes of the past! My mother’s brother tried to murder me, and I murdered my father in turn! With these hands! These hands! This creature you see before you was once a man! Envied by Men, desired by Women! Who desires this creature, now? Who envies this wretch, now? Who?”

By this time a small crowd would have gathered around the very tall, very gaunt man, with wild eyes and a booming deep voice inside a nest of black hair and black beard.

“It was not the Force that did this to me! No, it was the order than we tried, for centuries to put on it. Dividing it, and ourselves into Dark and Light. Jedi and Sith. Empire and Republic. First Order and Resistance. It was this blasphemy against the balance and unity of the Force that brought our Galaxy into three generations of interplanetary war! And this Second New Republic is built on the truth! The truth there is no Dark, or Light. Jedi, or Sith. Only the Force, United. As it lives in all of us, and everything! As we find the balance, within ourselves, in accordance with our form and our nature. But I know there are those that preach the old heresies. When you hear them, think upon me!”

That’s when he would unbuckle his belt and take off his robe, showing them all his scarred, gaunt, filthy body.

Ben had even made the scar of the wound that Rey healed in the ruins iof the Death Star appear in his flesh.

“Stop and look at me! I am the mistakes of the past! My mother’s brother tried to murder me, and I murdered my father in turn! With these hands! These hands! This creature you see before you was once a man! Envied by men, desired by Women! Who desires this creature, now? Who envies this wretch, now? Who? Look on me and know it is time for old things to go. You must let the past die! Kill it, if you have to! Look upon me, and remember my words.”

Sometimes they would throw money in his bowl, sometimes throw things at him.

He hoped that a crowd would martyr him, but no one ever took him seriously enough to kill him.

He slept in alleys and doorways, stowed away on ships, and felt less than human.

Ben’s will to live left him as his madness spiralled out of control. He hardly ate and hardly slept, and his starving body devoured fifty pounds of his flesh, leaving him wiry, rawboned and gaunt.

He hardly felt human, or even humanoid, anymore, because  he was hairy, and smelly, and filthy, and he scavenged through garbage to eat,  like some wild animal.

At the end of a year, he ended up on Tattoine, intending to make a grand end to it.

He would give his sermon, throw off his robes and slit his wrists and his throat with a dirty piece of glass from the street.

But another vagrant warned him that the city fathers of Anchorhead had recently hired a former First Order officer as their chief of police, and although the new Chief understood smugglers were the lifeblood of Anchorhead, he was cracking down on street crime, con men, muggers, preachers, pushers, unregistered whores, and so on.

Ben quietly wished his former comrade well, and gave up the ghost.

But life clung, annoyingly to his skeletal frame.

He lay in the same doorway for three days, and three nights, and on the third night he knew that he was near death.

“Ben.”

He saw  a bluish light in the cold, dark desert night, and rolled his eyes upward.

The face he looked into was very much like his own.

If not for the fair hair and light eyes, it might have been his face.

Ben knew his rescuer, immediately.

“Grandfather. Have you come to take me home?”

“No, Ben. I have come to comfort you, in your suffering. I understand suffering. I understand the peace that comes from enduring suffering, and triumphing over it. But I want you to live. You have suffered enough. I release you from the restraints that we have put on your bond with Rey Skywalker. Call for help. I will wait with you, until she comes. Rey will take you home.”

***

“Rey. Rey, I need you.”

Rey sat up in the dark, and knew this was no dream.

She saw and heard Ben; she saw him through their bond.

But what she saw and heard was horrible.

His face was drawn and filthy, and the hand that reached to her looked skeletal.

He was swathed in a filthy robe, lying in a dirty doorway, in a back street of Anchorhead.

“I see you, Ben. I hear you.”

“Help me, Rey. I want to come home.”

Rey jumped out of bed and threw on her clothes.

“I’m coming, Ben. Wait for me. Don’t leave me, again!”

*** 

Rey stopped her speeder by the dirty doorway and was surprised to see the tall, broad-shouldered hulking Force ghost of Anakin Skywalker.

Gently, he picked up his broken, emaciated grandson, and carried him to the speeder.

“Master Anakin!” Rey gasped.

She watched him wrap Ben in the blanket she had brought, and gently lay him in the back seat of the speeder

“Take my grandson home. And don’t let him out of your sight until he’s well, again.”

“But I don’t know anything about healing! I don’t know who to call! I don’t know what to do! Someone has to help us!”

“There’s an old man living in my friend Ben Kenobi’s old shack. He claims to be a Jedi Healer. I will go there, now, and send him along to the Skywalker Farm. I am sure that he will be able to help you.”

Anakin Skywalker walked off towards the moonlit desert, and dissappeared into a little whirly of wind-driven sand..

***

Rey sped home, in a hurry.

Threepio helped her to carry what was left of Ben Solo into the house.

“Shouldn’t Master Ben have a doctor?”

“No, Threepio! No doctor! No medical droid! No bacta tank! No needle!”

Ben was terrified, but it was the first time he had spoken.

Rey was glad that he was alive enough to speak

“Alright, Master Ben. No doctor. Master Rey, what about the man in the kitchen.”

“He’s not a doctor. Master Ben hates doctors. Don’t talk about doctors! Help me get Master Ben into the bathroom, and tell that man to start doing...whatever it is he’s going to do. Have Artoo heat up some batha broth for Master Ben. Then you and Artoo go back to the shed. It’s too much for you.”

Rey slammed the door on the dithering droid, and went through the bedroom and back into the bathroom.

Ben had managed  to get his robe off and get into the bathtub.

He was covered in bruises and scratches, and you could see his ribs and his hipbones.

What was visible of his face out of the rat’s nest of tangled hair and beard was suffused with all the misery the human race had ever endured.

Rey turned the water on.

“Let me die, Rey. Now that I’m home. I don’t want to live.”

“I want you to live, Ben. This is my miracle, not yours.”

“Grandfather wants me to live. Do you? Really?”

“Yes, Ben, I do! I love you!”

“Then maybe I will live a little longer.”

He lay quietly in the warm water as she scrubbed the dirt off of him, and didn’t protest even though she had to wash his hair and comb the tangles and rats out with oil  several times, and then wash it, again.

It was either that or shave his head.

One of the Skywalkers had left his straight razor there, and Rey had polished it and sharpened it; why she wasn’t sure, but now she carefully shaved the filthy, matted beard away from Ben's gaunt face.

“Don’t shave it all. Kylo Ren didn’t wear a beard.” Ben told her.

It was the only thing he said, but his sad eyes watched her movements.

She helped him get out of the tub, and dried him.

“Thank you.” Ben said.

Ben leaned heavily on her as they made there way into the bedroom; he was still much larger and heavier than her.

But Rey didn’t complain.

She propped him up with pillows, and fed him sips of milk and sips of broth.

“Glass.” He said.

She handed him the glass of milk, and he gulped it down.

“Don’t, Ben, you'll get sick!”

He reached for the bowl, and sniffed it, like a dog, then put it back down.

“No. Meat.”

“You’ll get sick!”

Ben slammed his fist angrily on the nightstand.

“I’M DYING! MEAT, GODDAMN IT, GIVE ME MEAT!”

Bellowing  like an angry Wookiee.

A Wookiee.

Chewbacca was Ben's godfather; he had been adopted into Chewie’s tribe, and had a Wookie name.

Kallaurra.

Angry Wild Warrior.

But she didn’t know where Chewie was and Han and Leia were dead.

“Alright, Ben. Your Uncle Chewie taught me how to make a Wookiee stew. I’ll fix you some meat.”

Rey went out into the kitchen.

She felt helpless and alone.

I don’t know him. I don’t know him, at all.

Rey closed her eyes.

And she called to Master Leia.

As usual, there was no response.

Then she called to Master Luke.

“I’m right here. I told Ben Kenobi, and Master Yoda. Make sure Ben is with Rey. Father agreed with me. They didn’t listen.”

Rey opened her eyes.

Master Luke was sitting at the table.

“No matter where I go? I always seem to end up, right back here. On Tattoine. Now I’m here in the same house.”

“You’re the JedI Healer? When did you come back?”

“Right after I thought I died on Ahch-To. I got the same treatment Ben did. It wasn’t my time. I wasn’t ready. Next thing I knew, I was alive and well, and back on Tattoine. In Ben Kenobi’s hut.”

“I wish I would have known you were so close by.”

“I wish I would have told you.”

“Master Luke, did you ever take care of someone in Ben’s condition?”

“I don’t know what Ben’s condition is.”

Rey explained.

“I have seen men as sick as Ben, and I’ve tried to heal them. Some get better, Rey, and some don’t. They have to want to live. But I’ll do everything I can for Ben. Before I founded the new Jedi Temple,  I studied Jedi healing. I wanted to save lives to atone for the hundreds of thousands I had taken. And I have taken care of Ben when he’s sick.  And I also know how to get him to take medicine. You make something he likes and put it in his food.”

“But we don’t have any medicine.”

“I brought some.”

Master Luke reached into his pocket and got a white cylinder, which he put in Rey’s hands.

She opened it.

It was full of capsules.

“What are they?”

“No. The green capsules are vitamin pills. The orange ones are bacta. Just pop them open and put them in the stew I’m going to show you how to make. It’s a Wookiee recipe that Ben likes. Chewie showed me how to make it.”

Master Luke made a stew with bantha broth, vegetables, a whole nerf tenderloin, and potatoes.

He showed her also how much of the pills to put in.

“Don’t let him gobble it. Feed him a spoonful or two, and wait a half hour, to see if it makes Ben sick. If not. Let him eat the whole bowl. Don’t give him any more tonight. If he’s not sick, tonight, he can have three of these big serving bowls, tomorrow. It’s not too much. Ben’s almost the size of a Wookie, so he eats like one. If his stomach is still alright, tomorrow, then he had have some bread, too. And don’t give him anything to drink but blue milk. If his stomach gets upset, crack one of these purple capsules into some blue milk, and get him to drink it. Make some more of the stew after this pot runs out. After a week, Ben should be able to eat normally. Don’t expect him to gain weight all at once. And don’t overfeed him. The bacta and vitamins should make him well in about a week. But it might take a couple of months before he gains his weight back.”

“REY! WHERE THE HELL IS MY FOOD! MEAT! DYING!” Ben roared.

“Is that a good sign?” Rey asked.

“I think so.  Don’t tell Ben I was here. We’re still not on speaking terms.  I’ll come back to check on him, another day. Oh, and one more thing. As soon as he feels better, he’s going to want to make up for the time you two were apart. That’s not going to happen for him, with his body in the state it’s in. Tell him to be patient. When he’s healed and gained some weight? I’m sure everything will straighten right out.”

“I wish Ben had a Jedi healer to stay with him, tonight.”

“He has one. You are a Jedi. And you have healed him, before. But be careful, Rey. Ben’s life force is at a low ebb, and he’s very sick. You can try to ease his pain, but don’t try to heal him, entirely. It would drain too much life out of you.”

Master Luke got up.

“This is the no fun part, Rey. Ben needs you, now.”

“I don’t mind at all, Master Luke. Ben is alive. I still feel better than I have for a long time. I have hope.”

“That’s good, Rey.”

Luke stood up, as if to go

“Uncle Luke? I know you’re there. I feel your presence.” Ben called out

They both froze.

“I’m sick, Uncle Luke. Are you a Force Ghost, or are you the Jedi Healer that Grandfather was going to get to come here and help me?”

“I’m the old hermit down the road, Ben. Do you want me to come to your room? I know we didn’t part on good terms. But Rey’s nervous about being alone with you, tonight.”

“Would you mind staying with me, Uncle Luke? Everybody else is dead.”

“I don’t mind at all, Ben. I’ll stay here as long as you want me to. I remember where my room is.”

 ***

As Master Luke had suspected, Ben wanted to gobble the food.

His instinct to live and his hunger had overwhelmed his will to destroy himself.

“No, Ben.” Master Luke said.

More patiently than Rey would have, as he moved the bowl away.

Ben tried to grab at it.

“No means no. Don’t get grabby with me.”

“But I’m hungry!”

“You can’t gobble the food up, Ben. You’ll be sick, and that might kill you!” Rey told Ben.

It was a very long half hour.

Ben kept trying to get the bowl, and Master Luke gave it to her and she had to move away from the bed.

He cried.

“Don’t cry, Ben. If you feel alright, you can have the whole bowl, soon. And another glass of blue milk.” Rey assured him.

“I’m hungry! I’m fucking hungry, and I’m  too weak to get out of bed and take it! Where’s my mother, Uncle Luke? Why won’t she talk to me?” he sobbed.

“Your mother is...always with you, Ben. And you’ll get better. Rey and  I will make sure.”

The half-hour passed and Luke gave Ben the whole bowl of food, and a glass of blue milk.

“Eat slowly, kid. You start gobbling, and I’ll take the bowl away.”

As he ate, slowly, for once, Ben told them what he had done for the past year.

“Why?” Rey asked.

“Rey! Don’t ask why. Ben is suffering. He doesn’t need a reason.” Luke told her.

“I have one. I was asleep in a bunkhouse, with a bunch of other men on this freighter. And I realized that killing Snoke, and his troopers, and all his toadying fucking followers I killed on my way to slaughter the Emperor didn’t make up for killing my father. Sure, Snoke influenced me. Told me to do it. But I had a choice. And I chose to kill him. I killed my father. Whenever anyone would say that to me, that killed my father? I would just think, no, Snoke made me do it. But I did it. I did. I killed my father. I loved him more than anybody in the world, even though he was kind of a shitty father, and sometimes I hated him for it. And I killed him. In such a way that he doesn’t even have a grave. When I realized all of that? It broke my mind.”

Ben snapped the wooden spoon in half.

“Just like that.”

He handed Rey the bowl and the empty glass.

Luke took the spoon, and put both halves in his hand, and closed his palm.

When he opened it, the spoon wasn’t broken.

“Your mind will heal, Ben. Just like this And before this year is out? You will see Han and Leia again. I don’t know how. But I know you will.”

“I did see Dad. He forgave me. I just can’t forgive me.”

“Ben, you saved me. You saved the Galaxy. Without you I could never have defeated the Emperor. You’re a hero. Han is proud of you. So is Master Leia. Stop torturing yourself.” Rey begged.

“Ben, you said it was time to let old things go.You’re not taking your own advice.  This is how the Sith broke you. You don’t have to break yourself. You’re free. You won.” Luke told him.

“I’m tired. I think I need to go to sleep. I had better try to get to the bathroom, first. Rey already has to take care of me like I’m a baby. I don’t want to piss the bed like one.”

Ben managed to totter into the bathroom.

Rey wanted to hover over him, but she knew he was humiliated that she was seeing him like this, at all.

She waited.

He made his way slowly back to the bed and lay down.

“I’m going to go, now Ben.To my old room.  I’ll be back when you wake up  to see how you are.” Luke told him.

He put his hand on Ben’s forehead.

“Sleep, now. And have good dreams.”

Ben fell asleep.

Rey walked back to the door with her Master.

“Will he die in his sleep, Master Luke?”

“No. Sleep will heal him. We’ll let him sleep as long as he wants to. I think I’ll go say hello to my droids. Let them know that they’ll be coming with me, when I go home. I could use the company. And you have Ben, now.”

“They’re your droids, Master Luke.”

Master Luke opened the door and walked out into the courtyard, and beyond.

She watched him, retreating into the setting suns, heading for the old shed.

He wanted to help Ben, but also?

He was glad to be home, in spite of himself.

Rey understood.

***

She went back to the bedroom.

Rey got undressed and got into bed with Ben.

She pulled up all the covers, so he would be warm.

He woke up, for a moment.

“I haven’t slept in a bed since I left that freighter. And I haven’t slept in my bed, here, for what seems like an age. I think I might sleep for a long time.”

“As long as you need to, Ben. I’ll be here.”

Rey stayed awake until he was asleep, and for a hour afterward, making sure he was just asleep.

But then she fell asleep, too.

 ***

Ben slept all through the way through another day, until the morning after that day.

Rey kept checking on him, and so did Master Luke,  but he moved around in his sleep, and he snored, and once he got up and drank some water, so she knew he was just sleeping.

That morning he walked stiffly into the kitchen, dressed in a baggy cream tunic and brown trousers.

He had a cloth belt wrapped many times around the waist so that the clothes, although they were the right lengths for him, didn’t fall off him.

“Ben, those are my father’s clothes.”

“I know. They were still here, when I came here. I wear them, all the time. The desert preserves things.”

He had bathed, and dressed but he hadn’t shaved.

“I’m growing a goatee. To distinguish Ben Solo from Kylo Ren.”

“Everyone knows that Ben Solo killed Kylo Ren. Nobody’s going to come after you, Ben. You’re a free man. You earned it.” Master Luke told him.

There was a weird sense of calm, and dignity about Ben that she’d never seen in him, before.

He thanked her politely when she gave him the serving bowl of stew with the serving spoon.

Rey had gone out and bought the most fine, expensive loaf of rich, black, seeded bread that she could find, and put it on the table.

Ben snatched up the heel, and turned it over in his hands, and then he put it under his nose and sniffed it.

“I don’t remember the last time I had bread that wasn’t stale. Or mouldy.”

He ate the slice of bread, slowly.

Rey wanted to cry.

There were tears in Master Luke’s eyes.

But she didn’t want Ben to become hysterical.

So she carried on eating her cereal and blue milk.

“Have another piece. With your stew.” She encouraged him.

“Chewie used to make this for me. When I was a kid, and I’d get sick. It’s a Wookie recipe.”

“I know. He taught me how to make it.” Master Luke told Ben.

After he ate, Ben got up and walked out onto the hot sand, barefoot.

Rey supposed he was used to it, by now.

But he came back.

“I have to get used to boots again. I still have mine.”

 ***

Ben didn’t like to stay inside, too long.

He got restless.

And when he slept at night, it was like he was dead.

After a week, Luke was right, he was much better and he had gained some weight.

Before Master Luke went home, he brought Obi-Wan, to talk to Ben while Luke was giving him a final once-over.

Their Master returned and brought Obi-Wan with him.

He spoke with Ben while Luke was examining him.

“Were you seeking a vision, Ben? Or were you trying to be a vision?” Obi-Wan asked.

“I was trying to be a vision. I wanted to spread the word about the New Path. And the Force United. And to warn people not to go back to the old ways. I wanted to use my body to show them. So I made all the old wounds and scars reappear.”

“You’re on the right path, Ben. But you must not use suffering to make your point. Yours or that of others.” Obi-Wan told him.

Ben nodded.

Master Luke pronounced him much better.

He took Artoo and Threepio and went home.

After that, Rey and Ben were on their own.

Ben quickly started getting his body to do what he wanted, again.

He took long walks in the desert.

After two weeks, he was running, in nothing but a pair of shorts, running over the burning sand, barefoot and mostly naked.

But he stopped being antsy when he was in the house.

***

Rey had to go buy some food, and Ben wanted to drive her speeder to Anchorhead.

When they got to the store where she bought the bread, and the old baker saw Ben, he came out from behind the counter.

“I can’t believe it! Young man, what’s your name”

“Ben Skywalker.”

“Was your grandaddy Anakin Skywalker? Son of Shmi Skywalker and Kylo Skywalker, who died a warrior on Arkanis, and that started all the trouble his family got into?”

“That’s me.”

“I knew your granddaddy, then. We were both slaves, here. The Jedi took him away to become one of them. But he wanted to be a pilot. Me, I got sold to a baker. Now I’m a free man and this is my shop. But Ani used to come here to visit his mother. You look so much like him. Is he still living?”

“No. But he became a pilot. And a Jedi. He died a Jedi, at the end of Clone Wars and became one with the Force.”

“I suppose that’s what he wanted. But it still makes me glad I became a baker. Did you go to that Jedi Temple? Out on Yavin-4?”

“I did. But it wasn’t for me. Too may rules. So I left, and stuck with what I love. The stars.”

“So, you’re a starpilot too? Good for you, son. Ani would have liked that.”

“I’m sure he does.”

***

Time passed them by.

Ben continued to fight his way back from the brink of death.

He fought so hard, and regained his physique and his strength so quickly that Rey began to suspect he was healing himself, using the Force

Ben had always been strong in the Force, but he had become both more accomplished and more powerful than before. There was a new light in Ben's dark, ancient eyes, and a new kind of power animated him.

The Force was with Ben, but in a form Rey had never encountered.

But, neither she nor Ben were thinking on that, or the New Path of the Force United that they were, arguably supposed to be making a way for.

No, the weightiest problem at the Skywalker farm was much less cosmic.

Most people did not know that Rey and Kylo Ren had been star-crossed lovers.

And no one knew that it wasn’t just one last kiss that Ben Solo bestowed upon Rey before he died.

That was the elephant in the bedroom.

“Rey?’

She was asleep.

“What, Ben? Have you been awake all night?”

“I can’t sleep. What if I killed it?”

“Killed what?”

“My cock.”

“I’m sure you’d be fine with another woman.”

Ben hadn’t heard that.

“How could I just let it go, like that? Fuck, I haven’t even jerked off for six months! I don’t even remember the last time I got hard. I killed it. I lost my mind, destroyed my body, and killed my cock. And I’m ugly again, and I disgust you.”

“Ben, you are not ugly. You have never been ugly. That’s all in your mind. Go to sleep.”

“Then why are you so cold, all the sudden?”

“I didn’t want to hurt you. You were like a human skeleton.”

“I’m fine, now.”

“Go to sleep, Ben.”

Ben swore.

He got out of bed.

“Where are you going?”

He jerked the bathroom door open, angrily so that the knob smacked into the hole it had already made in the wall. 

“Fuck it! I'm going to go into the bathroom and try to get it up for somebody I know who cares about how upset I am, and wants to try to make me a man, again! Me!”

But then?

He had a better idea.

And he got back into bed with Rey.

“Wait! I know what this is about. You think the last time we fucked, it killed me. That you killed me. Now, you're afraid if you touch me again, I’ll just die. Right?”

“Ben, I…you did die.”

“I was going to die anyway. I figured I might as well die hard.”

Rey couldn’t help laughing.

A little.

“Besides, how many times have you tried to kill me? As many times as I told you I was going to fuck you whether you liked it, or not. Funny how it always seems to turn me on when you try to kill me. And when I act like I’m going to fuck you whether you like it or not? You always like it. The first fight we ever had? I wish I knew that you almost cutting my face off with a lightsaber was foreplay. If I had? Instead of offering to show you the ways of the force, I would have told you that if you came with me, I was going to tie you to a table, again, and slide my tongue up your sweet Rebel cunt.”

In several years of very dirty talk, and horrible arguments and insults, that was both the dirtiest and the most horribly insulting thing Ben ever said to her.

She slapped him in the face, and he laughed.

“Don’t you dare, Ben Solo!”

“What? Don’t try that high and mighty shit on me. I’m the guy who fucks you. I know what you like. And you know, you never asked me what truths I brought back from the other side.”

He pulled the covers off the bed, and grabbed Rey by the ankles and pushed her legs open.

“Never gave a minute's thought to the Force United. Or the new path. But I’m not going to make the same mistake twice. I’m not gonna ask you if you want me to teach it to you. Because I know what you want from me.”

Ben put Rey’s legs around his shoulders.

“I’m just going to slide my tongue up your sweet Rebel cunt. I know you like that.”

If Ben's intent was to inflame them both?

It worked.

He rose to the occasion, and Rey felt anything but cold.

She was still in the throes of the orgasm he gave her as he was sitting up at the bottom of the bed, saying:

“Hard as beaker fucking steel. It worked!”

Yes.

It had.

“Ben, you horrible bastard, I’ve wanted you so much for so long!” she told him.

“Yeah. I know.” he told her.

***

All around the Skywalker farm you could hear the sound of a woman, screaming

And a man’s savage, guttural voice.

“Do you feel it now? Do you feel the raw power of the Dark Side?”

The woman’s screams grew louder and the man uttered a deep, dark, Satanic laugh.

He pinned her to the bed with his big, powerful body, and she locked her arms and legs around him screaming every time he thrust into her.

Faster.

Deeper.

Harder.

“Can you feel my power? The power of the Force United? Is this the way you want to get fucked, little scavenger? Fast and dirty and hard?”

More screams ripped from the woman’s throat.

“Yes! Yes! I feel your power. Your power! More!” the woman sobbed.

“My power? Who’s power? Say it! Fucking say it!” the man ordered, snarling through gritted teeth.

“Ben Solo! Oh, gods, gods, Ben fucking Solo!”

The woman screamed for joy, the man gave voice to another guttural laugh, and it resolved into a roar like the sound an angry Wookie makes before he tears your arms out and beats you to death with them.

Then, it was quiet, again.

***

Rather prudishly, Rey pulled the covers up to her neck.

In contrast, Ben lay on top of them, naked, his arms behind his head, his eyes closed, a happy,  untroubled smile on his face.

“That was worth fucking waiting. You are one hot little piece of ass, Little Rebel Girl. You had better come out from under those covers. I’m not done with you.”

“Can’t I go back to sleep, now?”

“Why?’

“Ben, you don’t understand. You were born without shame. I’m embarrassed. People don’t…I…I mean, I enjoy making love as much as, well, any woman, but…you have no idea what I am on about, do you?”

He turned on the light.

“Rey, I understand your ‘Who? Poor little me?’ act is what’s kept you alive through all these years, and it keeps people out of your hair. But don’t play it on me. I know better. I’m also the guy who fights with you. At your side and as your opponent, remember? So you can mince around Tattoine, acting like you are the little scavenger, a little war widow, just getting by, spending her life in elegiac genteel exile. Living with the memory of her lost love. But we both know it’s bantha shit.”

“Oh, really? And how would you know, Ben?”

“Rey, you slapped my face in a room full of smoking corpses and pools of blood and told me to quit fucking talking and kiss you. Then you wanted me to fuck you, on Snoke’s throne. You hardly gave me time to get rid of the mess and drape the curtains over the throne!  I mean, there I was, on my knees, with one foot resting on a dead man, and you’re pulling my hair and calling me a Sith bastard and telling me you’re going to come in my mouth, so I had better lick it up. Then, when I got up? You would have thought I poured honey all over my cock the way you went after it. You broke the zipper on my pants, getting it out. I had to hold your nose so you’d open your mouth so I could pull my cock out, because I thought if I came in your mouth before I fucked you, you’d cut me in half. I mean, I could hardly believe my luck.  I felt like the luckiest man in the Galaxy. Who knew you were the kind of girl who loved to give head and liked it doggie style on the throne of the Supreme Leader? I thought I might have been in love with you before that day. After? I was done. You had me. For the first time in my life, I was crazy in love.”

Rey bit her lip, to keep in a laugh, a scream of outrage, or both.

“I was carried away in the moment.” she sniffed

“This went on for longer than a moment. Hell, the first time I told you I could take what I wanted, you looked at me like, oh, Daddy, let’s fight first, and I might kill you later, but take me now, I’m all yours.”

“So what if I was immediately attracted to you? A lot of women have been!”

“Not when they were strapped to a table, killer. Rey, I was your enemy. I was the bad guy you were fighting against. I gave the orders that almost wiped out the whole Rebel fleet! And even after that, you came here to meet me every chance you got! And we never talked, here.  We talked when we were light-years away from each other. When we were together all we did was fuck. I was the Supreme Leader, I could do what I wanted. Go where I wanted. Nobody questioned me. I killed three generals who asked me what my business was with the Rebel girl. Those bloodless Imperial fucks stopped asking me stupid questions about my Little Rebel Girl after that. You were training to be a Jedi. You were the big hero of the Resistance. And you risked all that to come to Tattoine and fuck me out in the desert. When you had two guys, right there, who would have dragged their balls over hot coals just to get a shot at you. How long did the moment last? Two or three years? That’s a long karking moment, isn’t it?”

“It’s because I love you, Ben.”

“I love you too, Rey. But you are not a poor, meek, winsome little scavenger. You are a hot-blooded Force warrior. A two-tone, blood-glutted, cock-hungry hellcat who likes fast ships, bad men, high adventure, a damn good fight, and a real hot fuck. Be who you are, Rebel Girl. Some other guys might get turned off by that, but I’m Kylo Ren, remember? I love it when you’re bad. Hell, I killed myself at Exegol, satisfying our mutual battle lust. But I figured, what a way to go!”

“That’s why I was never going to touch another man, ever again. I killed you, Ben.”

“I came, and then I went.”

Ben laughed.

“It’s not funny! You gave me life and I took it back from you!”

“You didn’t kill me, Rey. Sheev Palpatine killed me. I knew I was going to die in that cave. I knew it before I brought you back. But I thought, hell, if I have to die, I might as well do it after a great victory in battle and a great fuck with the Valkryie I love. My Little Rebel Girl. And it’s not going to happen again, because I am now the most powerful Force sensitive being in the galaxy. Well, next to you. So do me a favor, and drop the act. It turns me off, and you’re insulting yourself.”

“Ben Solo, you are such a bad man!”

“Through and through. Did you think Kylo was the bad guy and Ben was the good guy? The best you can say about me is that I’m the good bad guy. Rey, my father was a ruthless pirate.  My grandfather was Darth Vader. I’m bad right down to my bones.”

“You wont tell anyone else about me, will you, Ben?”

“They already know. They’re just too terrified to argue with you. Damn, I have to piss.”

He got up and went to the bathroom.

Rey shifted around a little.

Thinking about what he had said.

Ben came back to bed.

He got under the covers, kissed her, and rolled over on his back and shut out the light.

Rey was a little disappointed, until Ben hauled her on top of him.

“OK, Rebel Girl! Your turn to be on top!”

***

The one thing that people all the way to Anchorhead would tell you about Ben Skywalker was that he had to be related to Ani Skywalker, because he looked just like him.

His hair and beard were black, and hsi etse were dark, but other than that, he was Ani all over again.

He wore the same kind of desert pilot’s clothes; in fact, Ben and his wife were poor; he might have been wearing Anakin’s clothes that he found at the old Skywalker moisture farm.

Young Skywalker and his wife, who was a nameless scavenger from Jakku before he gave her his had come right from the wars.

Ben had lived out on the old place for years, but during the wars, he was always coming and going. 

When he came to the cantina in the village without his wife?

Once he had a few pitchers of beer, he'd show you all his scars.

Take his pants down and everything, and the foolish boy didn’t wear underwear.

He had moods, but those scars meant he came by those moods, honestly.

He said he was a pilot, but all he seemed to be doing was getting his old wreck of a ship fixed up.

You might see him, running through the desert, barefoot, bareheaded, and slathered with sun protection, wearing only a pair of regulation Imperial exercise undershorts.

When he got to the village, he’d stop by the cantina for lunch.

“Training. I eat too much, and I drink too much, so I have to train like a goddamn Sith just to keep from turning into a big day tub of guts. That, and the Little Rebel Girl I married? She’s horny as an Askajian whore with a Twi'lek mother. She was a real killer, in the wars. If I ever quit banging her two, three times a day? She’d burn down the planet. But she keeps me in shape. Best exercise there is. Doing push-ups with girls. Before I met Rey? Hell, I had two or three women a week, just to keep me happy. Hell of a woman, my Little Rebel Girl. Better run home before she thinks I’ve got a girl on the side.”

Then he’d drink another pitcher of blue milk, finish his four sandwiches, and run home.

But what Ben was most famous for in the village was fighting a full grown Wookiee, and winning.

He made a lot of money doing it, too.

Ben Skywalker was the local character before the war was over, but taht wa sto be expected.

He was a Skywalker, after all; they were all characters.

In short?

Nobody suspected a damn thing.

***

After having lived by her wits from the time she was 14, and then becoming a Jedi, a warrior and the savior of the Galaxy?

The last thing Rey thought would make her happy was being a wife and keeping a house.

But somehow, just now?

It did.

At first Ben's moods were a problem, but when she discovered there were four of them, it became manageable.

Brooding Mystic, Wild Man, Happy-Go-Lucky Pirate, and Sexual Death Star.

Sometimes all in the same day.

And she had to admit, the fact that Sexual Death Star was a regular daily mood made it easier.

Ben naturally had a lot of stamina, and he was well endowed, but Rey always thought he had made sure to become a good lover to make it up to a woman for his moodiness.

But Ben knew himself, he had stocked his home with all wooden plates, bowls, and cups, and a stoneware pitcher that she he said he had thrown at a stone wall before buying.

So he got mad, sometimes and threw things and yelled?

It didn’t bother her.

Ben was always hungry, so he was always cooking, and there was always enough to eat.

They stayed in bed for days, sometimes, making love, and being goofy and just being together.

And she had not just a room, but a whole farm.

She and Ben had cleaned it up, and fixed everything, and even the old rusting farm machinery looked like art.

Ben worked on the Falcon, his ship now and there was a lot of work to do, because Rey had let it sit for a year.

Ben talked about getting in touch with “Uncle Chewie” he was thinking about getting back to work, with Rey as his scavenger.

He had a scheme in his heart, and that was a good sign.

But neither of them were ready to leave.

They went to the market in the old speeder, and brought fresh bread, and sometimes, when the moon was bright they had lightsaber duels out in the desert, and then they’d make love like lions, under the stars.

The stars that still belonged to them.

It was a beautiful little life, with just the two of them, but one day, the west wind from out behind Tattoine’s twin suns blew Chewbacca in to Mos Eisley, and there was a radio message from him.

He was coming out to the Skywalker Farm, and when he got there, they should be on the Falcon and ready to go.

Rey knew, then that everything was about to change.