#shelters must be so fucking packed right now

[twistedsickopath]

okay but a thing i think about every time we have one of those few day periods where the weather is not fit for even a dog being outside is how the hell are homeless people surviving this. like i said in a previous post it's currently -40 degrees with the windchill and i honestly cannot imagine how someone who does not have a place to go inside and spend the night is supposed to not freeze to death. it makes me upset every time the temperature drops like this, i cannot imagine how many homeless people will be frozen to death in the next 24 hours if they somehow haven't already. the fact that there are hundreds of empty houses sitting there empty with totally functional heating while people are DYING from the cold on a street corner makes me SO FUCKING ANGRY while at the same time my heart is breaking in pieces for them. rest in peace to every poor person who will not make it through the weekend. i am so sorry.

[greatooglymooglyyy]

The Last Ride Chapter One (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: cussing, family issues, arguing, bickering, emotional manipulation, 2.3k words

a/n: so fucking nervous and excited for this series guys. love ya so much. this is crazyyyy

series masterlist (reading the prologue is v rec'd)

******************

“Irresponsible-”

“Dad-”

“Wreckless-”

“Dad. I’m-”

“Inconsiderate!”

I sigh and close my eyes, letting my body slouch down in his office chair. I thought the fact that he sent me upstairs last night without a word meant he was going to be calm and collected this morning, but nope. I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes while he’s been ranting and raving at me, not even giving me the chance to defend myself.

“Dad,” I say when he pauses again and stares at me. “I get it okay. I fu-” I clear my throat, wincing at the look he gives me. “I messed up. I’m sorry.”

He walks around his desk, takes his seat in front of me, and studies me for a second. When he speaks again, his voice is free of anger and instead just full of sadness. “I don’t think you are. Do you understand that you and your friends set production back three weeks on the warehouse? Construction was supposed to start Monday but now I have to tell the crew it’s been delayed. Do you care at all about that?”

I scrunch my nose up in annoyance and confusion. “Okay? It’s just a few weeks, Dad. I’m sure they’ll be fine. Look, can I go now? I broke my nail last night and I really need to-” He slams a hand down on the desk, startling me into silence.

“Y/N! Be quiet!” He pinches the bridge of his nose, attempting to regain composure. “Three weeks can be everything to someone who needs a job. But it’s my fault you don’t understand that. I’ve spent your life trying to make sure you had everything you ever wanted but I should have been teaching you what it means to work for it.” He takes a deep breath and then stands, crossing his arms and nodding as if deciding on something. “But that’s about to change.”

I stare back at him, my mouth slightly ajar still from the shock of his tone. He’s never been this angry with me before and I don’t know how to handle it.

“What do you mean?” I ask cautiously.

“I’m going to pay my crew for the time that they’re missing. And you,” he gestures at me theatrically “are going to pay me back every cent. I’m sending you to your Uncle Buck’s ranch to work off your debt.”

I stare at him blankly and tilt my head, thinking I must have heard him wrong. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“Dad!” I laugh with incredulity. “You want to send me to work in Nowhere, Louisiana? That is so not fair.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “That town is where I was raised. It has a way of teaching you lessons that you clearly need right now.”

I square my shoulders at him, a defiant twinkle in my eye before I give him a strong “No.”

“Wasn’t a question, darling.”

“No!” I say, standing now. “You can’t make me.”

He narrows his eyes at me and then takes a step back. “You’re right about that. You are eighteen now so I can’t make you. But that means I can cut you off completely. No car. No money. Nada. And that’s exactly what I'll do if you don’t go.”

My eyes widen and I blink profusely at him gauging his seriousness but he’s as earnest as I’ve ever seen him. Tears threaten to spill from my eyes but instead of standing here crying, I just storm out of his office and run up the stairs.

“Good idea.” He calls behind me. “You should pack. Your flight leaves in 22 hours.”

*************

My dad puts the car in park and looks over at me but I refuse to meet his eye.

"I cannot believe you are doing this to me.”

He sighs, placing a hand on my shoulder. “This isn’t something I’m doing to you, honey. This is something I’m doing for you. I love you but I don’t know if I like this person you’re becoming and I don’t think you do either.” My eyes start burning at this and I snatch away from him, hopping out of the car to grab my luggage. Dad meets me at the trunk, silently pulling out my suitcase and placing it on the ground.

I finally lock eyes with him and give him a hard look. “I am never going to forgive you for this.”

He winces slightly but sets his jaw stubbornly. “That’s a chance I’ll just have to take. I’ll see you at the end of the summer.”

I don’t respond, just grabbing my luggage and heading into the airport.

When I get through security, I have a seat in my section and pull out my phone to check the time on my boarding pass. I get a new message and sigh, finally filtering through the bullshit my friends have sent me.

Jace 🥵

hey baby are you okay? my bad about the party. you know i get on that shit. but never again, ok?

u up? i’m so fucking horny

Lydia 👯‍♀️

OMFG GIRL! Thank you so much for not telling your dad I was there. My mom would have literally canceled my Dubai trip. I love you FOREVER. Call me so I can tell you what Dylan said last night!

Brielle 💋

Hey. I’m so fucking sorry for leaving you. It was so shitty of us. Please let me know you’re ok?

I scoff at my phone and block them all one by one before turning my phone off. Maybe a couple of months away won’t be such a bad thing after all.

*************

On second thought? No. It absolutely is. I look around in horror at what must be the smallest airport in the United States. There’s not even a baggage claim. I literally have just to wait while some guy brings out the luggage one by one.

When I’m finally outside, I look around for the car my Uncle was supposed to be sending but all I see is pickup trucks and dirt. I pull out my phone to call Dad when someone speaks up.

“Y/N?”

I look up to see a boy around my age looking a bit impatient. He has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen, crystal blue like the early morning sky. He’s wearing a simple flannel shirt, some well-worn Wranglers, and a trucker hat. When I bring my eyes back up to his face, he gives me a look that says I’ve been quiet for too long and I snap out of it.

“Yes! Thank god. I thought they forgot about me.”

“Nah. Your uncle sent me. I’m Chris.” He says around the toothpick hanging out his mouth. Chris reaches for my suitcase and I let him take it, following him to the car. He moves quickly and I rush to keep up. Kind of rude for a driver.

“Don’t you guys usually have a sign or something?” I look him up and down before adding, “And dress a little less… dingy?”

He stops looking over his shoulder at me and I stop in my tracks before I can slam into him.

“Excuse me?” He says, clearly offended.

“I just mean, in LA at least, chauffeurs are usually-”

“Chauffeur?” He cuts me off with an abrupt laugh. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

I look around the parking lot for emphasis. “Well, what else am I supposed to think? You’re picking me up from the airport!”

“Damn girl, you really are out of touch. I’m doing your uncle a favor. You’ve never picked a friend up from the airport before?” He tosses my suitcase in the bed of his Ford F150 and heads around the truck as I feel myself reddening. I open the passenger door and pause, noticing how grimy the interior is and not wanting to get my skirt dirty.

Chris watches me with unconcealed amusement. “You can walk if you’d like. It’s only a cool 25 miles. I’m sure it’ll be a breeze in those shoes.”

I roll my eyes and hop in, mentally adding ruining a Coach skirt to my dad’s list of sins. Chris cracks up the car and to my surprise, instead of country music, a rap song starts up. I look over at him impressed. “You know LUCKI?”

He rolls his eyes and takes off his hat, scratching his head. “We have the same internet you do.”

“Not with that shirt you don’t,” I mutter under my breath, turning to look out the window. There’s nothing to see but fields, dead grass, and the occasional horse grazing so I turn back to Chris.

“Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot.” I start, but he interrupts me.

“Nah. You’re exactly what I expected.”

I narrow my eyes at him, sitting back in the seat. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He counts them off, tapping the steering wheel as he does. “Entitled. Bratty. Unprepared.” He says the last one with a pointed look at my outfit.

I laugh without humor and clap. “Wow. All of that in ten minutes, huh? Okay, let me try." I tap my finger on my chin pretending to think. "You’re a backwater hillbilly whose idea of a vacation is driving out to Texas. You had big dreams of leaving this piece of shit town, but whoops! You’re still here.” I glance in the backseat, spotting a booster seat, and go for the kill shot. “What was it, hm? Babymama drama?”

Chris scowls at me, his eyes full of distaste. “You shouldn’t speak on shit you have no idea about. That seat’s for my sister. But thank you for proving my point. Why don’t we add judgy to that list?”

I snap my mouth shut and avert my eyes mutter a quiet, "Whatever." before reaching for my purse to popping in my AirPods. From my peripheral, I see Chris smirk and turn up the radio. When I’m sure he’s not looking, I chance a glance at him. He’s rapping the words of the song softly, bopping his head to the beat. I trail my eyes over his jaw, noticing the stubble lining it. Chris flicks his gaze over at me and I immediately look away, chastising myself.

He might be cute… Who am I kidding? He’s gorgeous. But he’s not worth a minute of the trouble. I sigh deeply and let my head fall against the headrest, closing my eyes and letting the music take over.

*************

I sigh in relief when we come to a stop in front of my Uncle’s house. It’s been years since we’ve been back here, I was only eight the last time, but hardly anything has changed.

The land still seems huge to me, stretching out several hundred acres; which is beyond impossible in LA. The house is beautiful, even though it’s clearly old, a rustic-style home with red shutters and a wraparound porch. My dad told me once that my grandpa built it all by himself as a wedding gift to my granny. My heart tugs a bit at the reminder of them and I push it away and hop out of the truck.

Chris is already pulling my luggage out of the bed when I come around and I go to take it, muttering a quiet thank you, before I hear my name being called.

“As I live and breathe, if it isn’t my bunny!” My Aunt Birdie calls from the screen door before stepping out onto the porch. I grin at the old nickname and drop the suitcase, running up the few stairs to hug her. She nuzzles me into her arms and I can’t believe how much I’ve missed these hugs without knowing it.

“My my. Aren’t you as pretty as a magnolia in May?” She coos when she pulls back, pressing a palm to my cheek. I beam at her and she calls over her shoulder for my uncle.

She lets me go, moving past me to speak to Chris.

“And thank you, darlin', for getting her for us. You know how that truck of ours likes to kick up a fuss somethin’ fierce.” She says, placing a hand on his shoulder as he walks past her carrying the luggage.

“You know it’s no trouble.” He says politely and I scoff, causing both of them to look at me. I cover it up with a cough and shrug, finally stepping into the house. Uncle Buck comes around the corner, grinning from ear to ear.

“Y/N!” He’s freshly up from a nap, sleepiness evident in his face, but comes over to wrap me in a hug. “How was the trip? Hope you and Chris hit it off.” He says, throwing a smile his way.

“Oh, yes sir. She’s…” Chris hesitates. “somethin’. That’s for sure.”

I glare at him and he shrugs, turning back to my aunt and uncle. Uncle Buck takes a seat in his rocking chair and gestures for me to sit on the couch.

“Okay, honey. I’m gonna give it to you straight. I know you don’t want to be here.” He raises a hand when I try to interject. “Now, let me finish. I know you don’t want to be here but you are. Now what we do here is honest work. This is work you can take pride in. And that’s what I expect from you. Good honest work. Are we clear?” He says, his voice as stern as he can manage but I see the cracks in his facade. I nod anyway, not wanting to give him any trouble.

“Good!” He says, his good-natured smile returning. “Cus’ Chris, here’s a tough cookie. He’ll keep you on your toes.”

My eyes widen at this and I look between my aunt and uncle’s faces in horror. “What?”

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” My uncle asks. “Chris here is our lead farmhand. You’ll be reporting to him this summer.”

There’s just no way this is happening. I drag my eyes to Chris reluctantly and find him giving me the most shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen.

He tips the brim of his hat sarcastically and chuckles.

“Welcome to the crew, city girl.”

Oh. I’m so fucked.

taglist: @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind

[gabessquishytum]

Regency/forbidden love idea!

Omega hob is being presented to society. Of course, everyone tells him he’s lucky he gets to debut at all. His family is new money and hob isn’t exactly seen as a traditional beauty. While he has a pleasing form, good childbearing hips, he’s beat up alphas who thought he’d be an easy lay and now he has a reputation.

Omega dream is the jewel of the season, the beautiful third sibling of the richest family in town, the endless and everyone is vying for his hand. He is bored as hell with alphas trying to impress him, expecting him to swoon into their arms. He’s known as an ice prince and the prize everyone alpha thinks they can have.

But they don’t know that dream is in love already.

He didn’t expect it. He didn’t ask for it. He was set on being a good omega and doing his duty. And then he met hob. The minute he saw him Dream’s senses came alive. He’d never thought he was attracted to anyone. But hob’s smile, his scent, his warm laugh—Dream realizes maybe he’s never wanted alphas. Maybe he is meant to love an omega. and hob is no better. He catches a glimpse of Dream and it’s over, his heart is dream’s.

The first time, they’re on holiday together by the sea—no need for a chaperone when they’re both omegas— and dream can’t help himself. He steals into hob’s bed, heart in his chest and hob is already awake, like he was waiting for him. He kisses him like he’s a starving man.

Hob spreads dream out and eats him out until dream comes screaming and then dream fucks him until he’s sobbing into the mattress. And they swear under the sheets and stars that they will elope. As soon as they have enough money and a plan.

Dream is pretty sure he can put off an engagement. Death is helping. She’s got their parents convinced that no one has offered a high enough bride price. So far no one is good enough for dream.

Hob isn’t worried for himself. He doesn’t expect anyone to make an offer for him. But he lives in fear of some alpha making a claim for dream. Everyone wants him.

Finally they have enough. Dream’s estranged brother has offered to shelter them. Dream writes to hob with the good news and packs a bag. That night, he goes to wait in the woods, where hob knows to meet him.

But hob doesn’t show up. Dream waits hours, heart pounding, suddenly sure that hob never meant to come, that hob doesn’t love him. until suddenly their friend Matthew comes running out of the night.

“He isn’t coming,” he gasps out and dream feels his heart shatter (it must be true then, dream must be unlovable)— “he was caught,” matthew continues. “They’re arranging his match now, he is being mated in the morning. They’re looking for you too. I’m sorry, dream, you have to run. ”

Holy shit!! Amazing romance novel material right here!!

I totally want to see Dream launching a rescue mission (with Matthew). But in the short term, he really does have no choice but to run. If they're both caught then things will be even worse - he needs to get away from this place if he's going to rescue Hob. So he reluctantly flees via the mail coach, biting the back of his hand to stop himself from screaming in anguish as he gets further from his love.

Meanwhile, Hob is having NONE of this imprisonment in his room and forced mating thing that his family have planned. He's been locked in, and the windows are barred, but he does have the time to develop a plan. And to sharpen the little knife that he normally uses to open envelopes to a very sharp point.

He acts submissive and ashamed when the alpha he's been given to is brought into the room. A quick transaction was made overnight - there are lists of alphas waiting for mates, it wasn't hard to find one at short notice. Hob clasps his little knife and he waits.

He doesn't murder his new alpha, although he thinks he'd be entitled to - forced mating is technically illegal. Its self defence for Hob to slash at the alpha's face when he tries to mount Hob. Self defence for him to run down the stairs, brandishing his knife. To flee through the kitchen, steal a horse, and ride away at top speed.

He wouldnt make it very far if it wasn't for the fact that Dream is waiting for him with money, falsified papers and a plan. Hob finds him waiting at the first coaching inn on the road to London, and they immediately head north as fast as possible. Hob is still wearing his bloodied shirt, and Dream is ashamed to admit that he finds it rather sexy. Hob just smells so good with all his wrath and vengeance on display.

After that, it's bizarrely easy. Hob cuts his hair, Dream starts dressing a little more conservatively. They move to a nice little hotel by the seaside, with Hob pretending to be Dream’s companion. Two omegas living a quiet life and sharing a room is far from a scandal. They even go abroad and finally get to travel like they always dreamed of. And oh, they make love at least 3 times each day. They simply can't keep their hands off each other. Hob wakes up each day and nuzzles his way down to eat his beloved out - the very best way to say good morning. And when the heats sync up, the pleasure is unmatched by anything.

Death and Matthew both visit them when it's safe to do so, and even they can tell: omegas or not, those two were made for each other. They'd find each other in any universe - it's fate!

[terramythos]

I decided to play a game of Rimworld on the mechinator start, I wanted to try the robot minion mechanic out so whatever, sure. You start with one character and 2 robots in this scenario. I spawn into a temperate forest, start building a shelter, all the standard stuff.

First pop up/event of the game comes up. The ONLY character in the colony immediately gets Malaria. And has 0 medical skill. I have her use medicine to treat it anyway and it looks like she will live, the immunity is progressing faster than the disease. Cool.

A few minutes pass and I get the second event of the game. Now she ALSO has the fucking Plague. Keep in mind I'm still on the first day of the game. This is some insanely bad luck, diseases almost never spawn right away. This is not good. I tend the Plague, too, but it's progressing much faster than the Malaria.

Long story short, after a point she collapses. Because she's incapacitated, she can't use medicine. and since she is the only pawn in this colony, and neither of her robots can rescue her, she lays there and dies of the Plague. Or maybe the Malaria. I get a game over notice, but opt to keep the map running.

Events spawn in, some people crash in a shuttle, and with no one to rescue them, bleed out and die. A pack of manhunting guinea pigs spawn in, scream for a few days, then leave. With their master dead the robots go feral and join a mechanical hivemind. I wait for a while watching random events play out. FINALLY, a new pawn wanders onto the map, and I can play as him.

Fuck it, I'll keep the game going.

Meet Thamas. His backstory is he's some dude's spare clone that escaped by joining the military, which he then deserted. He's not terribly smart, or good at anything but planting stuff and punching stuff, but he's got the spirit. He hauls out the rotting corpse of my starter character, whose name I no longer remember, and takes over the ruins of her base.

Thamas is horrible at construction, but construct he must. He fails often. When he doesn't fail, he builds awful quality furniture. Thamas also sucks at cooking, but cook he must, or he will starve. By some miracle he only gets food poisoning one time.

Two and a half seasons pass and winter is approaching. I have a stable supply of potatoes but Thamas, who is bad at construction, can't build any temperature control items. So there's the distinct possibility of frostbite if I can't get enough firewood, and I can't refrigerate the potatoes so they might rot.

Sometimes we get attacked but Thamas punches everyone to death and hasn't been downed yet (an instant wipe, in this situation). A feral cat bites off his pinky finger. He manages to capture one raider and to try and recruit him, because at this point I'm desperate for someone to do even just basic stuff so Thamas can catch a break.

It's going OK, but it will take a while to recruit this guy and I'm one bad raid or manhunter pack away from a wipe. That's when I get it. THE event.

A notification pops up. Someone's shuttle crashes LITERALLY right next to Thamas' shoddy house. Cool! Her name is Midori, and she will immediately join the colony if I rescue her. Great! But she has paralytic abrasia for 30 days so can't move. Huh. Well. I'm probably gonna die soon anyway I might as well try and keep her alive.

Then I read it. The final line.

"Midori has a relationship with a colonist. She is Thamas' ex-wife."

[iboatedhere]

Thank you @henryspearl @suseagull04 @orchidscript @cha-melodius @lemonlyman-dotcom & @jmagnabo92 for the tags!

I hit the lower limit for my @aroyallybigbangrwrb fic this week!

--

It takes him almost forty five minutes to go less than three miles but he doesn’t mind it. He sits with his head against the window and watches the city pass in jilted starts and stops, his breathing getting easier and deeper the further he gets from home.

The shelter is packed, but it’s easy to spot Henry behind a long row of tables, scooping steamed corn and carrots onto plates. 

He smiles warmly at everyone who steps in front of him, dressed in an orange volunteer shirt, a red apron, and a hairnet. 

Alex feels like a complete fucking asshole standing there in his designer leather jacket and hundred dollar shoes. 

He thinks about cutting and running, but then Henry lifts his head and spots him, pinning him in place with a smile. 

Alex tries to smile back, but whatever he manages to do with his face must be worrying because Henry’s smile fades and he tilts his head with concern.

Alex really wants to run now but his feet carry him forward instead of away and soon he’s standing in front of Henry.

“Are you all right?” 

“I’m fine.”

Henry raises his brows.

“Seriously, I’m good,” Alex tells him. “Just put me to work.”

Henry looks him over then nods. “Go see Donna,” he says, “she’ll tell you where to go.”

Donna, the recreational coordinator who takes Thanksgiving very seriously if her pilgrim hat and light-up turkey necklace are anything to go by, throws an apron and a hairnet at him and sets him up at the beginning of the line, handing out rolls and prepackaged pads of butter.

It helps to take his mind off things. Having something to do with his hands and people to talk to. 

When the line ends Donna pushes a full plate of food into his hands and tells him to enjoy. 

He finds an open seat and doesn’t look up when Henry sits down across from him with his own plate.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Alex says. 

“I didn’t say that you had to.”

“I know, but the way that you’re looking at me….”

“How do you know how I’m looking at you? Is it projected in your cranberry sauce?”

Alex heaves a sigh and lifts his head to meet Henry’s ocean blue eyes. 

“You’re looking at me like that.”

“I’m afraid it’s just the way my face looks.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” He pokes at his food then groans. “I left,” he admits. “My parents had been at each other's throats all night and then June got into it with them and I couldn’t take it so I left.”

“That seems like a valid response.”

Alex scoffs. “How? I left my home.” He taps his finger against the table. “I ran away like a little kid. I’m thirty three years old.”

“And I still think it was a very mature thing to do. You were in a situation that made you uncomfortable and instead of engaging or making things worse for yourself or others you left. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“You really are best friends with Dr. Okonjo, aren’t you?”

“The bestest,” Dr. Okonjo says, appearing at Henry’s side as if he’s been summoned. He’s stolen Donna’s turkey necklace—or maybe he has his own—and his hair is a rich auburn, perfect for fall. “What are we talking about?” 

“How you’ve rubbed off on Henry.”

“Never,” Dr. Okonjo, says brightly, “but I do try to be a good influence and please, Alexander, if we’re going to be friends we’ll need to drop the formalities. Call me Percy, darling, or better yet, Pez.”

“Then call me, Alex, please. Alexander is reserved for my mother.”

“And how is your mother?” Pez asks. “Your lovely sister mentioned that all your parents were in town for the holiday.”

“They were alive last I knew. Slight chance my sister has killed them by now. Maybe she let my step dad survive or maybe she thought it would be better to leave no witnesses. She and Nora might be on the run.”

“How exciting,” Pez says without missing a beat and Alex laughs. “I assume you came here to have plausible deniability of any wrongdoing.” 

“Yeah, that sounds a lot better than just running away.”

“At least you only crossed town to get away from your family and not the Atlantic,” he says with a significant look toward Henry who rolls his eyes.

“As I was telling Alex, sometimes the mature thing to do is leave.”

“Indeed,” Pez agrees. “It’s important to take care of yourself. No guilt, love.”

“Just the dread of having to face them again.”

“That can be difficult,” Pez says, suddenly serious. “And you can’t hide from it forever. If you ever need to talk, my door is always open.”

“Thanks,” Alex tells him, feeling overwhelmed by the support. “That means a lot.”

“Anytime,” Pez answers easily while Henry presses his knee against Alex’s beneath the table. 

--

Tagging: @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @porcelainmortal @fullsunsets @sunshinestrand @maxbegone @oxfordslutphase @inexplicablymine @anincompletelist @accol-fics @youcancallmekathyp @bitbybitwrites @cricketnationrise

[definitelynotstable]

Frozen [Gaz x fem!Reader]

AN: Hello! This one's for my Gaz girlies. Gimme a comment babes – lemme know how I’m doing xoxoxox

Synopsis: You and Gaz are stuck in a safe house and – oh shit. Is that a single bed? Word count: 1.1k Warnings: none (i don't think.) Gaz x fem!Reader (callsign, Ace): Single bed trope ...kinda. Slight hurt/comfort? Gaz is a silly boy and nearly freezes to death.

———

Price had lied. Or maybe he’d been given false intel. The safe house was not a house but a shack. A cold, uninsulated shack with a small fire place, a wooden bench and a single mattress pressed into the corner. A single mattress. 

“Fuckin’ hell.” Gaz grumbled, closing the door behind you, the wind still seeping through the cracks.

“Fucking hell is right.” You nod. “This is barely a shed.”

Gaz slung his pack from his shoulder and leant it against the wall by the door. There are snow flakes in his hair, you notice, caught amongst the curls.

‘I’ll get some wood,” you say, dumping your pack next to his and pulling your gloves back on. “You can set up in here, yeah?”

He nods, sweeping some dust away with his foot. “Don’t be too long – it looks like it’s packin’ in.”

“Yessir.” You tease, the door clicking behind you.

———

Christ, Gaz wasn’t lying. It’s become a full blizzard now, snow stuck to your lashes as you squint. You managed to find enough wood for a couple of fires and you curl over it in an attempt to shelter it from the snow. The shack materialises through the snow and you kick the door open with a grunt, a couple of logs tumbling to the ground. 

“Shit, Ace,” Gaz clambers to his feet and shuts the door behind you, and picking up the wood you dropped, “I was about to go lookin’ for you.”

“Got a bit carried away.” You grin, making a pile next to the fireplace Gaz has cleared out while you were gone, “Thought I should grab as much as I could in case we get snowed in.”

Gaz kneels at the fireplace while you peel off your damp jacket. “We better not get snowed in,” he sighs, striking a match which catches the fire-starter and flares to life. 

“Yeah well, can’t hurt to be prepared.” You say, pulling off your boots and setting them next to Gaz’s, “Exfil said they’ll come once it clears, hopefully won’t be too long.” 

You immediately regret taking off your shoes. It’s bloody freezing. You share a couple of MREs for dinner and Gaz whips out an aeropress to make a coffee; claiming first watch.

You settle into your sleeping bag, having pulled the mattress away from the wall so it sits in front of the crackling fire. Gaz settles down, his lower back leaning against it slightly. You accidentally kick him as you shuffle around to get comfortable. He shoves your legs gently over and leans back, his elbows pressing into the mattress. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, the fabric pulled in tight under your nose. 

“’S’alright, just get some sleep, Ace.”

You take his advice and feel your consciousness slip away to the sound of the flickering fire.

———

You wake up mere hours later, frozen and stiff. There is something slightly heavier than the sleeping bag draped over you and your eyes hidden as you realise Gaz has pulled both your jackets over you. The man in question sits slumped over, arms crossed over hs standard issue black shirt; gun in lap with his legs stretched out in front of him.

He must be freezing.

“Gaz,” you whisper, nudging him with your foot. He startles slightly and you notice the slight tremor in his hands. “Gaz!” You whisper again, harsher this time, “You’re gonna freeze to death like that!”

The man shakes himself awake – sleeping while on watch is not like the Gaz you know. He turns to you and you notice the blue tinge of his lips. 

“Christ, Gaz.” You fling the sleeping bag off you and pull the M4 from his lap, giving the safety a quick check before leaning it against the wall. You roughly yank his arms into the jacket that he laid on you as you slept, the sergeant complying; arms floppy like a dummy.  

“Come’re,” you say, pulling him to lie on the mattress, unzipping the sleeping bag and rolling him into it. He blinks up at you in a daze as you zip it up to his chin. 

You glare back at him, shivering slightly now that you’e traded places. The fire has died down and you quickly build it up again with enough wood to last the night before settling down with the M4 between your legs. 

“Idiot.” You mutter under your breath. A hand curls around the wrist of the arm you have leaning into the mattress behind you. You startle slightly as you are pulled around. Brown eyes meet yours. 

“Ace,” Gaz murmurs, “You’ll catch your death.”

You laugh, pulling your wrist from his grip and wrapping your arms around yourself. “Trying to sell me my own advice now, are we?”

The hand grips your upper arm now, firmer. 

“Ace.” He pleads. 

You round in him, angry now. “What do you want me to do Gaz? You’ve nearly frozen yourself solid – someone responsible needs to keep watch.”

His brows furrow, slightly hurt. “‘M’sorry, you were shaking. I couldn’t just let you freeze –“

–“What? And so you freeze instead? The logic isn’t quite there, sergeant.” You scoff. Deep down you know what he’d done was sweet, but the mans lips were blue. Your slight discomfort wasn’t worth him getting frostbite.

He tugs on your sleeve this time. “Exfil will be here soon – Price knows where to find us, we needn’t keep watch in this blizzard. The chances of someone unwanted finding us are slim.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You know he’s right but you’ve gotten all worked up now. “I’m still angry with you.”

He smiles a little. “I know you are.”

“I’m going to stay angry till you’ve been checked by a medic.”

“Ok.”

You sigh, turning to look at him. His hand has curled around your elbow now, his thumb brushing across the sensitive skin in the inside of your arm. He pulls you again and you relent, sinking down to lie beside him. He unzips the sleeping bag, and tosses it over the both of you like a duvet. 

“Come’re.” He echoes you from earlier and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. 

“Gaz!” You gasp at the sudden movement. He chuckles, hot breath fanning across your face. He smells a bit like peppermint gum, his solution to the lack of teeth-brushing supplies on missions. 

“Don’t argue,” he says, nestling further into the mattress, “it’s warmer this way.”

He’s right again, the bastard. 

The fire has licked at the new wood you fed it and it crackles happily in the background; you feel it’s warmth against your back.

“Fine.” You mumble, relaxing in his hold. “But just because you almost turned into a popsicle.”

He chest rumbles against you as he laughs. 

“Whatever you say, Ace.”

———

Masterlist

[mammonsturtle]

Chronicles of a Fallen Warrior

You Get What You Deserve Pt. 2

The last fic I published was back in January that’s really sad

Apologies for not writing anything, again, university has been killing all inspiration to write anything. My writing might be rusty, so this might just be a bit of a warm up into getting back into writing!

With the Chronicles of a Fallen Warrior series, I guess this is a follow up to this fic, even if I said there wasn’t going to be a follow up to this. Not proofread, but it’s whatever I guess. D:

CW: Mentions of physical and verbal abuse, blood, mentions attempted murder, bodily harm, character deaths(non canon characters)

The House of Lamentation stood in complete silence as the wind blew furiously at the brothers through the broken window. Courtesy of Mammon after his outburst and the realization as they would never change themselves for him. As if the skies were outraged with the rumble of thunder and an impending shower started to fall upon them, all the brothers do is let those words sink into them.

“If I knew this was the family I’d have after we fell, I would have never followed you Lucifer.” “Maybe if you’d all let me die, I’d be lucky enough to go back to the Celestial Realm. And never see any of you again for as long as I live.”

It was a betrayal to their brotherhood, they had treated him like they would with the lower demons. Worst than that, they treated him like an animal, with disregard to how he felt and how they had treated him over the years. Mammon suffered in silence and never fought back, all for the brothers to thrive in their literal hell. He forever loved them, even with his body, heart, and soul, his very being was beaten down by them over and over again. But yet he still put his brothers first.

They failed their big brother. Mammon had sacrificed his well being to make sure they had it good. He was the one who tried to keep them together and safe from the new dangers of the Devildom. He was the one who had decided to take on the challenge in raising the raging ball of wrath that was Satan. Mammon’s favor towards his brothers was why they got to live it up. At the cost of his own happiness, even if he gave them the world.

He failed his favorite little brother and his right hand. He may have been a gleeful sadist and never outwardly showed affection to his brothers as the Avatar of Pride, but now it was his sin that brought his brother down. Mammon had kept the family together while he grappled with their fall and the deal with Diavolo about Lilith. How could he have repaid Mammon back in kind with such cruelty and Mammon stilled called them his brothers, his family?

Demons they were, but the bond between the brothers were supposed to be stronger than anything else in the universe. Yet the bond must have been at breaking point if Mammon of all demons had gotten so outraged by them. Did he even want to come back to them even if they would be kinder to him?

Such wishful thinking. 

Mammon is the fastest demon in all of the Devildom, it is a known fact. Not even the most powerful demons, Diavolo and Lucifer could match his speed. And even in his weakened state, Mammon knew he was leagues ahead of his brothers if they chose to foolishly pursue him.

The rain had turned into a downpour and hindered Mammon from heading towards the casino districts where he’d feel more at home. The constant thundering gave way to lightning that danced across the dark night, not wanting to get struck by the elements, Mammon flies into an abandoned warehouse near the district. 

Crashing through the worn down windows, glass shatters as Mammon crash lands into a pile of cardboard boxes and into the old and worn packing peanuts. He groans as he groggily lifts himself out of the pile and hobbles to the closest wall and leans against it, at least he was sheltered from the rain with a conveyer belt hanging overhead.

“Fuck me man...” The Avatar groans as he feels over his wounds, he grimaces as he still felt the wounds still healing. The wounds were healing, thanks to the work of Satan or Lucifer. He closes his eyes as the thoughts, along with the tears started forming.

Would his brothers treat him with more kindness now that they almost lost him? What if it happened again? Was he worth the trouble? Was it worth the insults and the physical torment from his brothers? Why did it take near death for them to realize that they could have lost him forever?

Maybe if they did, all their troubles would just go away. The perpetual burdens that he shouldered upon them, the shame and embarrassment that came from him; that the brothers would rather pretend that he didn’t exist. His constant sin of greed was always punished, whereas his brothers were barely acknowledged. Maybe a slap on the wrist for them while the more crueler punishments were always reserved for him.  

He knew one thing, he was tired. So tired of being the designated stress ball, punching bag, and the target of their problems. Since when was it decided that he was the whipping boy for everything that went wrong in this family? Did he deserve it though? If he died instead of Lilith, would the brothers have acted the same?

Oh god Lilith.

If Lilith was here instead of him, they wouldn’t have all the problems that Mammon brought with him. No one would be complaining of their belongings going missing and the complaints of Mammon just being himself and his sin, all their troubles would have just disappeared. Maybe he should have died instead of her, everyone would be happier. The thought itself was almost too tempting to fulfil for the needs of his brothers.

Would that solve all his brothers’ troubles once and for all?

He screams loudly at the thought, the sound echoing through the empty warehouse, soon being muted by the loud sound of thunder boomed up high. The Avatar soon found sleep with his thoughts as the sound of the rain soon lessened over the hours. He must have made a decision then, a set frown gracing his facial features.

Morning came as the storm had subsided, leaving the Devildom streets slick with rainwater dripping down from building signs and puddles formed on the sidewalk. The citizens could have sworn it was Lotan who caused the storm last night as the day before was a bit of a dry heat.

Things seemed normal as everyday folk went on with their day, a crowd gathered around some dead bodies that stuck out in a nearby alleyway. Mangled limbs that had been tossed around like rag dolls, the rain had washed away the blood. Of course there wouldn’t be a case if there wasn’t enough evidence on who committed the act. The passerby-s would glance and continue on their way and made their comments on such a sight and the bodies were either eaten by the gluttony demons or claimed by family. 

It was the way of the Devildom as demons would either kill or be killed to survive.  

Mammon walked past the scene as he headed down into the Devildom slums, the last place any of his brothers would find him. Knowing them, they were desperately looking for him in the casinos or the horse racing downs. He scoffs and wryly chuckles, as if his brothers would actually go out and find him.

If anything, the thought of his brothers looking for him and wanting him to be home with them was laughable. If something like this happened to Lilith, they would have dropped everything just to have her safe and home with them. Him though? They would have waited days, maybe weeks after and then wonder where he was, and then they’d act on finding him.

As the glittering streets of the Devildom soon turned into the dirt cobblestone pathways, Mammon looks up at the less than stellar housings and the lesser demons who stared at him as he walked through the neighborhood. Some stared with raised eyebrows, others with forced reverence for the Avatar, and some acknowledged his presence before going on with their business. It’d be the perfect place for him to reside in, after all, what better place to house a scumbag like himself?

A raven caws and lands onto Mammon’s shoulder and nuzzles against his head, reprieving him of his thoughts. Mammon gives the familiar a small smile and strokes the raven, it caws lowly before cooing into Mammon’s ear, “Really now? They said that?” He shakes his head as he continues on his way.

His brothers? Kind to him? Back then maybe when they were little cherubs and little demon, but right now? It didn’t seem likely now, and maybe not in the future.

Stopping in front of one of the housing projects, Mammon knocks on the door, his ring clinking against the worn down entrance. Silence at first, but the sounds of footsteps shuffling to the door soon came as the occupant opens the door slightly ajar. “Who is it?” A demoness’ voice quivered on the other side as she dared not look out.

“It’s me Prislea.” Mammon answers as he remains where he stands before hearing the frantic fumbling of the door locks coming undone. And Mammon yelped as he was dragged inside before the door was locked back up once more.

The small dwelling where Mammon was pulled in was common for the lesser demons of the slum as he stood in what was more or less a living room. As Mammon groans and rubs his arm and turns towards the demoness, giving a small smile. “Ya look well, I mean, what happened last night and all.” Mammon starts as he gives the latter a once over and frowns as he rubs the back of his head. 

The pale demoness rubs her arm and nods as she wrinkled her nose at the white haired demon. Her ebony locks contrasted greatly against her pasty skin as Mammon could see bruises from the night before on her arms and wrists. Bright topaz eyes shyly looked up at Mammon as she lets out a sigh, the smell of blood wasn’t lost on her despite the healing spells from his brothers. “Yes, thanks to you of course.” she replies before going quiet and gives the Avatar a weak smile, “You didn’t have to go and do that Lord Mammon.”

Mammon shakes his head and shrugs, “Listen dollface, it was nothin the Great Mammon couldn’t handle. And whaddaya mean? Course I had to do somethin. I wasn’t about ta leave yer boys without their ma now.” He gives her an equally weak smile as he plops down on the worn sofa, dust popping off as he sat, “And consider ya account with them demons closed, ya ain’t gotta pay money to no loan sharks now.” 

“Where are tha boys anyways?” he asks as the demoness turns her head towards the sound of footsteps coming from the other room, “Speak of the Devil-” “Mamma! I’m hungry!” Out from the back bedroom were two demon boys, little carbon copies of their mother, but with citrine orbs, though just as equally bright as her’s.

“Mr. Mammon!” the boys chirped loudly with joys as the jumped onto where Mammon was and let out a squawk as they piled on him. “Ay! Easy now boys!” he cautioned, even with his wounds healing, they still felt tender. The second born lifts the older boy off him and chuckles.

“You beat the bad guys, didja Mr. Mammon?” The younger boy asks him as the older one tries to get a hold of Mammon’s attention, “Course he did! That’s why he’s here!” Mammon was in a fit of squawks and chuckles as he tried to pry the boys off of him and Prislea shakes her head. “Come on boys, get off Lord Mammon, he’s still recovering.” The boys groan as they did as they were told and Mammon gives the boys a half smile, “Of course!~ There ain’t nothin the Great Mammon can’t do!” 

Mammon ruffles both boys on the head, “How’s about the Great Mammon treat ya to some lunch? On me!” he offers as the two boy light up as they turned to their mother.

“Can we Ma?” The younger one asks as he bounces around her, and the older one nods fervently and tugs on her hand, “Please Ma!? Can we get some real food this time?” Shooting Mammon a look of ‘look what you did’, Prislea sighs and relents to the pleading eyes of her sons, “I suppose if it’s Lord Mammon’s offer, we shouldn’t decline it.”

Well fuck. Mammon left the house without his DDD and his wallet of course. His mouth always did find a way to get him into trouble and this was no different. Well, there was no time to turn back as he followed Prislea and her boys to a small cafe just outside the slums.

As the boys skipped ahead of the grown ups, Prislea noticed how quiet Mammon was as she nudged the Avatar, “Something wrong Lord Mammon? You don’t have to do this for us.” The demoness looks ahead to keep an eye on her boys before turning back to Mammon.

“Wha-? Oi. Of course I gotta, gotta make it up to ya after last night. Yer boys got the scare of their lives of course...I couldn’t let ‘em lose ya. I mean...They ain’t got a papa around..Sooo...” Mammon trails off as the demoness comfortingly puts a hand on his arm.

“You’re uncharacteristically kind for a demon Lord Mammon.” she comments as she chuckles, “It seems your angelic traits haven’t been lost even after your fall. Your brothers are lucky.” She hears her boys call for her and Mammon as she shakes her head and continues on her way.

Mammon shudders, the early years in the Devildom was quite the troubled times for the angel turned demons. Not only did they had to transition into demons, they had to deal with the ball of wrath that was Satan. Mammon did what he could to keep his family together. He tried so hard to protect his younger brothers, though Lucifer seemed to come in time to steal the thunder from him. 

All Mammon did was for the good of his family, so why was it he was paid back in pain and suffering? Mammon couldn’t remember Lucifer punishing any of his younger siblings with the severity dealt on him. 

Satan and Beelzebub’s penchant to destroy and consume, Asmo’s partying and revolving doors of lovers brought to the house as his brothers looked the other way, Leviathan’s constant cursed games from his Akuzon purchases causing trouble for the boys, Belphegor using the baby status of the family letting get away with just about anything and everything, and Lucifer. Dear god, if this is what he got for loyally following his big brother to the depths of hell, then maybe he might as well quit while he was still ahead. 

It was only fair that they got what they give. 

“Mr. Mammon!” The younger of the boys called for him as Mammon shakes his head and catches up with them. The younger one leans forward and squints at Mammon as he tilts his head, “What’s the matter? You ain’t hungry? You still hurt?” 

Mammon chuckles as tussles the younger’s hair, “Nah. I’m a’ight. Ain’t nothing the Great Mammon can take!” The older brother nods as he pushes the door open, “Of course he is! He’s the Avatar of Greed, he’s the second strongest, he’s tough!” 

Mammon chuckles as the family heads on in, though it dies down as he’s left outside for a moment. The title of the ‘second strongest’, it didn’t really mean much to his brothers, did it? They were lucky he never unleashed what he was truly capable of was onto them for all they did to him. He could easy wipe the floor with them, and maybe put up one hell of a fight with Lucifer if it came down to it.

‘Tough huh. I’m tough. I’m so tough I can handle anything...Except my own damn brothers.’ Mammon shakes his head as he heads on in.

“Jus put it on my tab!” Well damn, his mouth struck again, but he wasn’t going to heave this on Prislea and her boys. Mammon said he’d pay off the tab if he could just get his beloved Goldie. He had assured the staff at the cafe that he’d return with payment if they’d give him a chance to head back to the House of Lamentation.

Mammon dreaded coming back to the House of Lamentation, especially with his brothers being there, probably planning to be all sweet and kind to him. All he needed was his DDD plus the charger, and his wallet. He’d never step into the house again.

Mammon crept over to where the window to his room was. The window looked like it was untouched, perhaps unlocked even. Perhaps it was a trap to lure him in and his brothers would get him then.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

Stepping into his room, it was surprisingly clean and organized, nothing like it was normally was. He had been expecting Leviathan to trash it, in the search of the figure he never stole. Or Satan coming in to trash his room as well, it’d be understandable that the fourth born would trash the room since last night?

And now was the part where his brothers jumped him, right?

Yet there was silence as Mammon silently shuffles around to gather his essentials. Reaching for his wallet and the phone charger, he frowns at his beloved Demonio 666 Lexura. How the hell was he supposed to get that out of here without his brothers knowing he was here? He huffed, some sacrifices had to be made.

The House of Lamentation was no longer a home to him if he was the only one singled out for his sin and inappropriately being punished for it. For so long he had to endure the punishments so Lucifer didn’t punish his little brothers. And in turn, his little brothers followed Lucifer’s footsteps in abusing and insulting him. Lucifer always called Mammon his favorite brother. Favorite brother to take out all his frustrations and to get off on his sadistic pleasures. By now he was sure he wasn’t even considered a brother if they’d continue this treatment of him, it was easy to cut his losses now.

Mammon takes what he needs as he lets out an exhausted sigh, and he heads towards the window. Not before a warm and familiar wind gently engulfs him what he figured was a hug. 

 “I’m sorry Lilith, I just can’t do this anymore.” 

And with that, Mammon leaves the familiarity and safety of the House of Lamentation. Since then, the crows and ravens that hung around the house were no longer seen or heard. The House remains silent as Mammon’s absence was felt, the brothers could go on with their business, yet there was a gaping hole that they’ve tried to cover up. One that always tore open if the second born was ever mentioned. 

Another sibling lost to the brothers’ actions, and one that could have easily avoided. But then again, they got what they deserved, didn’t they?

-Fin

A/N : So it’s been awhile since I wrote anything, this was mostly to see if I could back into my writing, so this might not be the best thing I wrote. Hated how I ended it but I didn’t know how to end it.  Still, I might bang out some other fics when I get back into my writing groove. Thanks again for reading!

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

Dick & Rachel and the Invisible String theory (part 3)

Let's continue with season 2! (You'll find part 1 and part 2 here) Good news is, I fixed the problem of the image limit (silly me didn't know I can put up to 30 images in a post on my laptop). Also good news — season 2 has so many clues that I had to give ONE ENTIRE EPISODE a separate post!

Season 2 is interesting when it comes to the Invisible String because it all seems to be very chaotic and all over the place, which is kind of reflecting the state of both of Dick and Rachel's minds this season. Dick, quite literally haunted by his past, is fighting hallucinations of Bruce Wayne, while Rachel is trying and failing to rein in her newly upgraded powers and struggling with her sense of identity. Their problems are pulling them in different directions, making them deal with stuff separately rather than together. The String becomes frayed and loses some of its integrity. Until, finally having enough of the bullshit, it takes the matters into its own hands (ropes?), so to speak.

And in episode 2x11 "E.L._.O.", sends Rachel a dream.

It's a blaring alarm. A wailing siren. Code Red, it screams, he's doing something really really stupid and it's going to get him killed. It urges her to go, now, before it's too late.

But first a little reminder how we got there.

Dick revealed the truth about what really happened to Jericho. Mad that he kept it a secret and blaming him, everyone (including Rachel) leaves him and goes their separate ways — except for Kory, who leaves to deal with her own stuff but promises to be back, and Gar who ends up the only one staying at the Tower. Dick leaves as well, packs a bag and goes to visit Jericho's mother. After a confrontation with her and Slade, he heads for the airport, a plan to go somewhere remote and away from everyone on his mind. But once he's there, he experiences something like a psychotic breakdown, gets himself detained and sent to prison, being convinced that this is what he deserves for all his fuck ups and mistakes.

Rachel originally goes with Donna but ends up ditching her as well and finds her way to a homeless shelter, where she meets a girl named Dani. Dani invites Rachel to an abandoned house where she and her friends have their place, and tells her she can stay with them. This is where Rachel has the nightmare.

It's all very symbolic this time. A cemetery, a funeral, a gravestone with Dick's name on it. Rachel's reaction to it is heartbreaking to watch. Then Dick appears behind her, dressed in a suit and tie as if attending his own funeral, and begs her not to give up. On him? On Titans? Rachel grabs his hand to look into his mind and find out what's going on but all she sees is some place called Elko diner in the middle of nowhere, which at the time doesn't make much sense. She wants to ask, but a sword is driven right through Dick's chest, Slade standing behind him, and she watches in horror as Dick chokes on his own blood and dies. She wakes up screaming, tires to call him, but his voicemail box is full.

When she doesn't leave immediately, the String tugs at her again. Dani gives her a reading from Tarot cards and the reading is terrifyingly accurate:

"Your past. The Tower. Upheaval. It leads to a period of darkness." — fighting amongst the team, Titans breaking apart.

"Your present. The Moon. The realm of dreams. Your unconscious knows the way back to the light. You have to trust your intuition. It will guide you to your purpose." — THE REALM OF DREAMS!!! GUIDE YOU!!!! TO YOUR PURPOSE!!!! Do I even have to explain?!

"Your future. The hanged man. Brutality is coming your way. You must prepare to make a great sacrifice or... suffer a great loss." — explains the meaning of the vision and predicts the future. The hanged man is Dick, his life is in danger. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Rachel gets another scary vision:

Something insane hit me while I was rewatching this scene and making these gifs. Something that made my jaw drop to the floor.

Dani could be the personification of the Invisible String.

She's only in this one episode, we never see her again. Rachel doesn't get the vision of Dick's death until she's at her place. Her only purpose seems to be to have this scene with Rachel, read her from the cards and help her understand this dream. She's literally guiding Rachel on the right path, a path that will take her back to Dick.

Rachel leaves right after that and heads for the bus station. This is another example of the String working in mysterious ways, because it's a direct callback to the moment from the pilot where Rachel decides to go to Detroit. This time it's a little more intentional — Rachel picks Elko because she recognized the name of the diner from her dream — but the two scenes are done nearly shot for shot to remind us that neither of the instances is coincidental. Just like the previous season, the String is leading her to Dick.

On the bus she has another dream. She's in the same cemetery, sees Dick standing over his own grave. Deathstroke emerges from behind the trees with his sword in hand and Rachel tries to warn Dick but she's unable to move and he can't hear her. Deathstroke kills him again and Rachel jerks awake just when she's about to miss her stop.

Meanwhile, weird things start happening with some of the others. Donna gets a strange call from Rachel, but the static cuts off her voice. Kory, who ended up in Vegas, sees a commercial of the Elko diner on TV. Dawn hears Rachel's voice on the radio as she's driving. All three get the same message: get to the Elko diner.

When they get there, though, Rachel is actually shocked to see them all there and claims she didn't do anything. Then none other than Bruce Wayne walks in and has a nice little chat with them. (Btw Bruce is preaching in this scene. Amen to these words!)

He gives a speech about putting the gang back together despite all the hurt that broke them apart, then simply leaves. Kory, Donna and Dawn aren't too convinced, the latter two deciding to leave. But before they do, a small TV in the back of the empty diner turns itself on and shows news footage informing that Dick is in a nearby prison and apparently helped two men escape. Convenient, right?

All of this is so weird, isn't it? So random. You watch it and immediately claim it "shitty writing" because the way these events happen is so goddamn ridiculous. It feels like it doesn't make much sense.

Or does it?

Because it's not really Bruce. Because in the season finale, when Kory thanks Bruce for coming and his advice, Bruce tells her he doesn't know what she's talking about because he was never there.

But if it wasn't Bruce, who or what was it?

At this point, Dick is having hallucinations all the time. While locked in solitary confinement, he has no one but his mind's projection of his adoptive father for company. They talk, they argue, even fight. Bruce has been appearing to him throughout the entire season, most of the time uninvited (as hallucinations do) and Dick couldn't get rid of him. But the one time when Dick actually does want Bruce to appear, he doesn't.

Bruce doesn't show up, but a large bird appears in a window of the cell and catches Dick's attention.

The only way I can describe Dick's face when he sees it is relief. Man nearly looks like he could cry. He immediately jumps to his feet, eyes never leaving the bird, and softly calls to it, but the bird flies away and doesn't come back even when Dick is shouting after it. Left alone again, Dick hangs his head and drops back to the floor, where he curls, crushed and defeated, as if the last glimmer of hope he had just died.

Bruce comes back shortly after that, and at the question "Where did you go?" he ominously replies that Dick needed to rest, and then changes the topic.

Okay but why pay attention to some bird? It's just a random bird, right? Wrong.

It's Rachel. Her "soul self" as she calls it in season 4. Still linked to Dick's subconscious even after leaving the dream, she "borrowed" Bruce's projection to bring him to the diner and sent the Raven as a replacement. Even Kory and Dawn came to a similar conclusion in the finale:

What's more, Dick must have recognized her in the bird. Otherwise, why would the bird catch his attention? Why would it cause such a range of emotions on his face? The bird doesn't stay for long, it flies away almost immediately, but I'd say this way Rachel now knows where to look. The bird comes back, the tv turns on and now they have the location.

One extra clue that proves it is that the scene in the cell happens right after the scene at the diner, which implies that the two moments might be happening at the same time.

How did Rachel do all of that? Found her way to some random diner in Nevada, brought the girls and Bruce together, sent out a projection of herself to Dick and did it all unconsciously ? Is it her powers or is it the String pulling her forward? Or both? It could be her instinct, her fear, her helplessness and desperation because she's just a kid and she's alone, and she just had a premonition of Dick's death. There's not a lot of time and she needs help. Outside of the diner, she's begging Donna and Dawn to stay, tears shine in her eyes and her breath hitches while she explains to them how she saw Dick die, but ultimately only Kory stays by her side. She gets some of the help but not all, and Dick eventually finds them before they get to find him, but all these weird things didn't stop happening until the threat of Dick dying went away.

As for Dick's end of the String, it kind of only makes a cameo. In his last hallucination, after Dick and Bruce exchange a few kicks and blows, Dick finds himself standing in front of several screens showing some important, pivotal moments from his life, moments that shaped him into who he is. There's many different things here: Robin's violence, his parents' killer's death, cutting Bruce's tracker from his arm, Jason falling from a building — and two memories of Rachel. The first meeting in Detroit and the moment she appeared in Trigon's dreamscape to save him (which also proves something I'll be talking about in season 3, so remember that detail).

And honestly, I can't think of an explanation to this other than the String's mere presence. It doesn't do anything — the scene's purpose is for Dick to figure out a clue left by Jericho. But I find the choice of picking not one but two important memories of her for this scene a really interesting and thought-provoking detail. Especially that the way this entire section is constructed draws your attention to it. We hear Rachel saying "It's you, you're the boy from the circus" in the background and her voice doesn't drown in the cacophony of others from different memories, but it's distinct, standing out from the rest — we as the audience are meant to hear it and recognize it. All the memories on the screens change, some appear on different screens at different times, but everything, from the camera angle and blocking, to editing and effects, made sure these two memories were seen at the same time. They're not the focus of the scene of course but you can tell there's been a lot of thought put into making sure they end up where they ended up.

You know, it's funny how I used to not take this episode too seriously — like most of the fandom — because of all the stuff at the diner and how there's seemingly no explanation to it and it feels so random. Because of how stupid some of the characters decisions seem. We always blame it on the writing, shit on the writers for leaving plotholes and making retcons, and 99% of the time we are right to do it. But maybe we just have to look deeper. Maybe we're supposed to look deeper. Because after looking at these events through the perspective of The Invisible String, this episode will never not make sense to me again. It's not dumb anymore, it's not random. It's actually fucking brilliant. I think it speaks of something that I had to give it a whole separate post to explain it — and that was something I did not plan when I sat down to write this theory.

Now we move to seasons 3 & 4. And check out Part 4!

[aryanightshade]

IV.

This Episode of Stranger Things is Called: Floor Is Lava

-

{you have four new messages}

“Hey, Eddie. It’s Wayne. Your Uncle Wayne. I was surprised to hear from you. It’s been a while. I, uh, you didn’t leave a number to call back, so I asked around town about you. Heard you’re renting a place from the old sheriff. Thought that was a little funny. You know, with how much you gave me the runaround as youngster. … I hope you’re doing okay, son. If you wanna talk, you know where to find me.”

- - - -

Eddie doesn’t puke from nerves, but it’s a near thing.

It’s Wayne.

Checking in.

It’s an immediate upset to the already delicate emotional equilibrium he’s managed to achieve after freaking out Steve’s porch, and it makes him spin in circles, frothing with panic, like an animal with its leg caught in a steel trap, drawing blood from his own panicked movements.

Wayne.

Wayne found him. After Eddie had made it so goddamned difficult, too. After he gave Wayne a virtual middle finger when he vanished into the night without a word with nothing but big dreams and his own teenage arrogance.

Damn that stubborn old man.

Eddie steps out onto the porch, hovering under palter shelter offered by the eaves from the summer rain, and sucks down cigarette after cigarette until his fingers are frozen and shaking and his pack is empty.

I hope you’re doing okay, son.

Wayne found him. He called.

Down across the yard, the Harrington house is still and lightless. They must be out and about, playing in the water. Eddie flicks his last butt away, watching it spin in lackadaisical circles in a puddle before vanishing between the boards of the porch. Why did Wayne call him back? He doesn’t owe Eddie anything. Anything at all. Eddie was only ever a nuisance, dumped on Wayne’s porch by Indiana CPS when his dad got arrested for his umpteenth DUI or whatever other shit he was involved in that week. Growing up, Eddie spent more time in Wayne’s trailer than not, and those months not being ping-ponged between shitty apartments in Indianapolis were definitely the most stable stretches of his life by a long shot.

Until now.

He sort of owes Wayne a response, doesn’t he?

That being said, Wayne and Eddie are two people astonishingly ill-equipped to have an emotionally probing conversation about anything.

Oddly, Eddie finds his conversation with Steve ratting around the inside of his brain, clattering like loose change in a dryer. About staying here. In Hawkins. About toughing it out. About this being worth it.

He makes toast for El, then a piece for himself, turning the nauseating idea over in his mind. If they stay here, in Hawkins, for longer than a few months, and that’s a big fucking if, then Eddie has to deal with this. He can’t just keep pretending Wayne doesn’t exist.

Eddie knows Wayne cares about him, deep down, under all the tough love and gruffness. He’s not stupid, but a little part of him, the part that’s a total fucking coward always looking for the easy way out, was sort of hoping that maybe Wayne had given up on him completely and they would never have to have this conversation. The whole sorry I disappeared and got a girl pregnant even though I’m a flaming queer and got then got addicted to heroin after she died because I didn’t know how else to get it to stop hurting conversation.

Yeah.

That.

Right.

Eddie shoves the rest of his toast into his mouth. It tastes like glue.

Read on Ao3

[faeflowerz]

Happy Birthday Riddle Rosehearts 🌹🌹🌹

No, I'm not late. I didn’t get caught up in Enstars. I didn’t forget to write this. I am also ignoring the characters I missed until their birthdays roll around again. also am not upset that i don't have his first bday outfit. Got his union thoooo ayyyy~

So I already knew I would love Riddle when I started playing. I'm not even a Wonderland fan (Neverland all the way babeyyy) but that lil tomato makes me tingly inside. What can I say? He's small in size but big in taste! 

And have yall seen prototype!Riddle??? Uhm?!?!? Hello?!?!?!?! Can I have both?!?!?!?

Let's get to it. 

So what has changed about the tiny tyrant? He was the first chapter and he ushered in the series with his Mommy issues. He's the best foot forward. I'm serious. Chapter 1 is solid compared to the others. It's my favorite chapter (1,6,3,4,5,2) and everyone sets the setting well. 

I think he's also up there on the most substantial change in characterization. While he's still got a stick in his ass, it's not as deep. He's showing more of his empathetic side and putting forth patience that the QOH isn't known for. A good queen must be fierce, but she also is fair in her deliverance of justice. She tends to her subjects and holds them to reasonable standards. Well, I at least think so. He's a palatable leader. 

Something I've started to notice about Riddle is that he's naive. But his naivety also gives him courage? While he has been sheltered most of his life, Riddle is sure of his skills. He's willing to fight Malleus if the fairy ever tries to come for his spot. Now, if he would win is not the point. The fact that this little boy is willing to say it to Mal on his birthday speaks volumes. He would probably lose if he challenged him as is. That's his naivety/confidence. Now, if it was like, after a year or something, he would go down swinging for sure. That's his talent and skill. He's also interested in the duel being a learning experience which is a mature way of viewing a dorm leader battle. I would say every battle is an exp but the stakes are meaningful in a leader duel. 

Speaking of which, it's cute that he would go there. Sure, it's to balance out the other picks, but Riddle would flourish in Diasomnia. He's packing a lot of power despite his size and if he learned how to keep his temper on lock, god. He'd be a big deal. Also he's good at fire magic for some reason like, is he an arsonist in training? Also the rose thorn motif on him sounds kinda hot. His OB uses thorns soooo.

Uhm, let's talk about his pick for a brother. 

You know…he's probably hiding the real reason why he wants Jade. Think about it. Riddle is the one who told Trey how Jade controls everything. Riddle shares a homeroom with Jade. He experiences him as much as he sees Silver and Sebek (maybe more depending on when they meet for clubs). He's right that Jade is seemingly polite and seemingly compliant with rules and shit. He's surreptitious with his power. That's what makes him efficient and dangerous. Riddle wants someone like that on his side. That's what he's not telling Azul. Hell, Riddle even admits that he's not fond of Jade's other traits.

As his younger brother amuses me too. His naivety is at work. I'm an only child but younger siblings won't always listen to you. Jade's too independent for any of that. He could probably be a better big brother since he steps back when he knows someone's gotta learn a lesson. Jade gently tried to offer to nip the Leona issue in the bud in chap 3. Azul foolishly barreled forward with his plans regardless. Azul fucked up and Jade knew it. So he let his bestie learn. So in Riddle's case, Jade would be a better older brother than little (bc Jade will deprogram his naivety). But I think he's got a better option for a little brother: Epel.

I was torn between him or Jack but I think Epel could benefit from Riddle's brand of micromanagement. Vil is strict, but Epel doesn't listen to Vil bc as we saw in chap 5, he was out to fix Epel. Vil does care and wants Epel to grow but the ulterior motives muddied their relationship. With Riddle, they both get to have a brother. Plus, size matters. A lot. Riddle, as I said before, is small but a powerhouse. From their interactions and voice lines, they seem fond of each other. Riddle is firm and he will get Epel to show more formality and respect but since he's the same height as him, Epel will be more receptive to what he has to say. And notice how Riddle always tells people to speak loudly and be 💯 instead of mumbling? That trait needs to be preserved in Epel. 

Riddle wants to do good and be a good mentor to his peers (imma talk about his career goals in a sec) so if Epel were to be taken under his wing, they would be fond of each other while also seeing Epel reach new heights that wouldn't be impeded by negative relationships. Plus Riddle is a little feminine (bc he emulates a queen too) so Epel will still unlearn toxic masculinity. 

Okay, so Riddle wants to be a doctor. A doctor. That's…unexpected. Well, not entirely. He has a classic doctor tiger mom (more on that later I promise) so I can see this being a "carry the legacy" type of thing. But as we can see, Riddle is clearly great with students. 

In his element, Riddle can educate upperclassmen as well as underclassmen. He's extremely smart and I think helping people in an educational setting is significantly more beneficial to his potential. Professor Rosehearts sounds super hot. He's firm yet gentle, and when he asks you to see him after class, you've got butterflies. He's handsome and when he talks, you're hooked on every word. You know he's scolding you for being so scatterbrained and distracted, but you can't help it. You're in love with him even though you know he wouldn't regret it if he would just take you and pin you to his desk-

So Riddle's mom is pretty…rough. I see people making jokes about her, usually projecting their own mama onto her. I personally think Riddle's mom wanted him, as in, he was a planned pregnancy. It only makes sense that they would only want one and then go to painstaking lengths to raise him "right". But unfortunately parenting is trial and error. I'm curious about how their family life has changed since he’s around other kids. I'm assuming he was homeschooled? Do we have any information on that? Anyway, school is usually when kids start finding their own identity and I wish we could get updates on how the OB gang is doing in specific areas where they were struggling. Since Twst is overloaded with characters, you gotta do your research on them rather than get main story satisfaction. 

So what do I want for Riddle going forward? I unno, he's perfect. And I stand behind that. He's working on himself and that's all I can ask for any of these characters. Each of them are sentimental to somebody in the fandom and as long as they continue to mature and develop through the series, I'm content. So to round out the last of the birthdays with the one who started it all,

Happy Birthday, Riddle! ❤🌹

[spooky-spaghetties]

It must have been, I don’t know, the past 15-20 years, but the proliferation of “no-kill shelters only” has really fucked over cats and lead to situations where government animal shelters straight-up will not take surrendered or stray cats because they’re jam-packed at all times, relieved only by a trickle of adopters and the better-funded, also no-kill SPCA, which comes in to take all the cutest most adoptable animals periodically

Like, I have a colony of 20-ish feral cats in my yard and the city animal control reaction was “not our issue, SPCA can tell you how to TNR them.” So now I’m trying to TNR a huge amount of cats, spending at least $100 a month on it because no city service exists to handle it.

TNR would work, over years, to reduce the population by attrition if not for two factors: there are not enough appointments for me to get them all sterilized faster than they have more kittens, and the presence of a huge number of cats encourages dumping more cats and keeping indoor/outdoor unsterilized cats. I’m bailing out my rowboat on the ocean of kittens with a teaspoon, and and every spring there’s a rogue wave.

And of course despite offering FeL/FIV testing, the clinic I go to will not euthanize on a positive test, because — well, maybe the cat won’t be a vector, and they could still live a full life for a while, huddling under my neighbor’s shed, eating garbage, and dodging cars before cancer or infections kill them. They still have quality of life! Just trap them again when they’re sick and hiding somewhere, then we’ll consider euthanasia!

As soon as i learned this I thought “this is going to be a huge problem,” because I don’t want to re-introduce vector animals into a population that gets one-time vet care when I manage to catch them in a trap. And I was right, because finally, cat #5 came back FIV+ — and there is no vet in town that wants to work on a feral, even those willing to euthanize a colony cat for an FIV diagnosis.

It looks like literally the only clinic in town that would euthanize a feral under these circumstances was the monthly PETA clinic, and they lost the lease to the building.

The point of colony management is to reduce the colony and try to improve their situations somewhat, not keep dozens of outdoor pet cats. It’s an alternative to culling where culling is illegal or somehow otherwise not possible. Feral cats in a colony aren’t in the same circumstances as indoor pet cats and shouldn’t receive the same medical advice.

[casspurrjoybell-28]

The Alpha's Addiction - Chapter 30b

*Warning Adult Content*

Risk - Part 2 -Koa

"I am your mate, Koa."

"But you have a whole betrothal going on now."

"That means nothing to me."

"It might, one day," I shrug.

I know it's a low jab but I can't help it.

This shit has been weighing on me since I found out.

The crease between his eyebrows deepens.

"How can you say that?"

I look down, lip trembling as his hands run up my forearms, cupping my elbows.

He doesn't know why I'm like this.

How much I'm holding inside.

Zacan, my infertility, the abuse I went through... all of which cripple my ability to stand confidently at his side.

"Cyrus. I need... I need to tell you something..."

A loud, blaring horn rings out, piercing my eardrums with its intensity.

It takes one look at the change in expression on Cyrus's face to tell that something is wrong.

"Cyrus? What's going on..."

I don't have time to finish my sentence before he's picking me up and throwing me like a rag doll over his shoulder.

I yelp in surprise as he takes off in the direction of the Pack house.

I've never moved so fast in my life.

The trees and all our surroundings blur past, dizzying me combined with the blood rushing to my head.

I close my eyes, burying my face into his back and scrunching my eyes shut.

I'm scared.

I don't know what the hell is happening or why Cyrus is sprinting like a madman and holding me in an iron grip.

He doesn't stop until we're through the doors of the Pack House, which is in chaos.

There are warriors everywhere, suited up and equipping their weaponry alongside those who have already shifted into their wolves.

Civilians and pups are being ushered into rooms and sealed in.

Cyrus bolts up the stairs and nausea overcomes me at the jarring jolts it sends through my body.

Why the hell is he carrying me like this?

I have working legs, for the Moon Goddess' sake.

"Put me down, you ass. Right now," I screech, smacking at his back as my head spins.

Only when he reaches my door does he obey.

I gasp, holding my chest as my stomach churns.

He pulls a key from his pocket and opens it.

"Hey. Why do you have a key to our room?"

He doesn't answer, only pushing me inside.

"Why Cyrus. What the fuck?"

I stumble backwards, almost falling.

"We're under attack, Koa. You must remain here. It's the safest place you can be right now."

"What? What about Oliver?"

Everything is happening so fast and I can barely process what he's saying.

"The pups at the school are always guarded by skilled warriors. There's a shelter beneath the schoolhouse with sufficient supplies that they'll have herded the pups into by now. He's safe, I assure you."

It strikes me how prepared Cyrus is, even with this attack springing up out of the blue.

My mind is whirling, contemplating so many possibilities at once but the only thing I can say is...

"I'll come with you."

"No," Cyrus immediately refuses, his tone harsh and with that I'm pissed.

"Excuse me?"

"You'll remain here, where no harm can come to you."

"But I can fight. You've been teaching me..."

"No, Koa. I will not risk you like this," he insists, voice raising but I refuse to listen to this bullshit.

"This is my choice to make, not yours."

"I'm sorry," he shakes his head and I'm about to retort that I don't accept his stupid apology when he goes back out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

I hear a clicking sound from the other side of the wood and run to the door, grabbing the handle and attempting to yank it open but it won't budge.

I realize, in fury, that he's locked it.

He's locked it from the outside with that fucking key of his.

I scream in frustration, pounding on the door.

"Cyrus. Get back here. Let me out."

No answer.

I push off from the door, fuming as I pace across the room.

All the people I care about are outside, exposed to the attack right now, while I'm in this protective little bubble.

It's not fair to them.

I cannot wait here like a sitting duck, when warriors that really have no obligation to me are risking their lives for my safety.

No, no.

I just can't let this happen.

I run to the window, pulling it open.

I know we're on the second floor but I estimate the distance to the ground, scanning for any scaffolds down the side wall of the Pack House.

I come up empty but upon looking from side to side I spot a fire escape.

Despite its rickety looking appearance, it's my best bet at getting down to the ground.

I just need to make the few feet distance to it horizontally.

I'm still in my fighting garbs from training, so I don't bother with attire.

I snatch the knife Oliver used to kill our attacker in our escape from the Blood Pack out from the desk drawer.

His blood still lingers on it, flaky and brown from oxidation.

I stuff it in my waist sheath.

I open the cabinet to grab one of my herb mixtures, a mustard seed powder that if put in contact with the eyes or inhaled can be significantly debilitating.

With nothing else to do, I climb up onto the window sill.

The venture to the fire escape is surprisingly pretty fast, with me almost falling to my death only once.

There was thankfully a ledge for me to edge myself across while I held onto a pipe nailed against the structure.

I'm shaky when I finally get down the creaky stairs of the fire scape, not completely over my almost fall just now.

Cyrus would be so angry.

Oh, I can never tell him about this.

I remind my wolf that this stays between us and he enthusiastically agrees.

Then we are off into the attack.

I will fight for this Pack.

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

The Last of us -Broken together part 7

The cold was getting into your bones. Whilst Joel waited for the home owner to.come.home you had slipped into the bathroom, pulling your shirt up to look at your wound. You'd taken a lot of care to keep it from your companions, though it had begun to heal the cold weather and the stumble you'd taken a few days before had ripped it open again. You opened the small window and packed some snow onto your wound, hissing through your teeth at the pain. Joel's voice caught your attention and you knew your host's husband had arrived home.

As quiet as possible you stepped out of the bathroom behind Joel.

Marlon sat down in his chair.

"they have girl with them too." Florence stated from her chair.

"can I come down now?" Ellie called over the balcony.

"No." Joel grumbled as she ran down anyway.

"oh-wah" the two older people laughed.

"what did I just say?"

"Joel come on they're like a thousand?" Ellie rolled her eyes.

"whose this little psycho?" Marlon asked.

"you never mind her." You growled. Joel moved into the room placing a map on the table.

"I need you to tell us where we are." He said.

"you got a map, why you lost?" Marlon asked.

"must have missed all the street signs in the enormous fucking forest." Ellie spat out.

"ho-ly" he chuckled.

Joel continued his tactics to get a truthful location from the pair. Satisfied with it he pulled you along with him and Ellie out of the small cabin. He kept hold of you as he started walking. You pulled back when you noticed Ellie wasn't behind you. Joel felt a cold panic in his chest. His head began to spin and his thoughts jumbled into white noise. He lent against a fence post trying to steady his breathing.

Your voices sounded so far away to him.

"Joel, Joel you okay?" Ellie asked moving up beside him, a white rabbit slung over her shoulder. "Shit are you dying?" She asked.

Joel shook his head, her voice coming in and out as he tried to shake himself back to reality.

"no but seriously are you cause might I remind you if you're dead I'm fucked." Ellie finished her thought.

"she's right Joel, I can't get her there alone." You grabbed his arm.

That seemed to ground him and he caught his breath

"it's just the cold air suddenly."

Ellie nodded and climbed through the fence. Joel followed her, turning to grab your hand. You grunted as you bent through it.

"you okay?" He asked Ellie turned.

"oh fuck not you too." She joked too hide her fear.

"I'm fine, I'm alright." You tried to reassure them both. "Honestly, come on, we should move quick." You brushed past them both heading into the woods.

"it's gunna be easy, all we have to do is cross the river of death." Ellie called out as she climbed the hill behind you.

You walked for hours, passing a dam until the sun started to set Joel found a rock formation that would make a good shelter for the night. He built a fire as you did a cerciut of the perimeter. When you were sure were out of sight of the other two you stopped and rested against a tree, breathing through your nose. Your vision was starting to blur. Joel's voice echoed into your mind.

"hey y/n come into he kid's sorting the food and I don't wanna die." He chuckled. You turned to look at him but all you could see was blurred colours.

"Joel." You reached out for him, other hand wrapped around your chest. He was beside instantly, holding you up.

"what the fuck, y/n?" Ellie called out when Joel carried you to the small camp. He laid you down on his sleeping bag and pulled your top up revealing the wound.

"why didn't you tell me y/n?" He growled at you, "Ellie, get your knife and hold it in the fire I need it as hot as you can." He half shouted at her. Your eyes rolled back into your head. Joel grabbed your face and you focused on him at last.

"look at me, don't fall asleep, okay you just keep looking at me. Tell me what happened."

You took some breaths trying to find the words.

"KC, the sniper."

"that was a week ago you idiot." He scolded you, "look at me, come on. I'm sorry sweetheart but this is gunna hurt okay." You nod as Ellie slips her hand into yours and Joel puts some leather into your mouth. A heat touched your skin. Your free hand grabbed at Joel's jacket as you let out a cry. Ellie squeezed your hand.

The heat stopped and you caught your breath. Joel's hands cupped your face bringing you back to look at him.

"I'm sorry I have to do it again, okay."

You nod. Bracing yourself for the second round. It didn't hurt as much the second time. When it was over your head rested back into Ellie's lap. She stroked your hair back as Joel redressed the wound the best he could. They wrapped all three sleeping bags around you and propped you up against the rocks. Reluctantly Ellie finished cooking the rabbit. Joel insisted you eat, though you felt too weak to do it yourself. He spooned some of his own, feeding you small pieces at a time.

After a while you started to drift off to sleep against the rock. Joel kept a hand on your leg for a while.

With darkness surrounding them Joel used silver duct tape to fix his boot. Ellie watched him take a sip from his flask.

"hmm, can I have some?" She asked.

"no."

"what just to warm up, come on." She begged.

Joel looked at her, the girl who had never really been a child. Her eyes held so much pain behind them. Finally he nodded and handed her the hip flask. She took a swig and screwed up her face.

"yeah still gross." She hands it back waits a beat then begins. "So I've been thinking, say we find the fireflies, it all works they draw my blood and put it in some fancy machines and make a cure."

"okay?"

"then what? Like what do we do?"

"oh it's we?" He grinned slightly.

"okay fine whatever, you. You can do whatever you want. Where are you going what do you do?"

He pondered the words for a moment. Twenty years ago the answer would have been very different

"it's never been an option, maybe a farmhouse, some land, a ranch."

"cool what kind?" Ellie pressed.

"sheep. I'd raise sheep. They're quiet and do what they're told." They grinned at each other. Ellie took the Mickey out of him for wanting sheep.

"romantic, you take anyone with you?" She asked, glancing over to you. Joel just took a deep breath.

"what about you? What are you gonna go?" He asked her.

Ellie looked up at the night sky.

"probably because I grew up in the QZ, behind you the ocean in front a wall. No where else to look but up."

Joel listened to her speak, though he didn't show it he agreed that Sally Rode was the best Aston's out there. Ellie grew quiet, looking across the fire.

"it'll work right, the vaccine?" She asked.

"little late to start wondering." Joel replied.

"I tried, with Sam. I knew he was infected, I rubbed some of my blood into his bite. I know it's stupid but I wanted to save him." She dropped her eyes. Joel shifted the flask in his hand and sniffed.

"well I reckon it's lot more complicated than that. Marlene is a lot of things but she's no fool. If she says they can do it they can do it." Joel didn't believe what he was saying but he knew he needed to keep her spirits high.

[tth-pdf]

Burning for love; JJK [03]

Contents: Smut, little bit of dirty talk, supernatural themes, romance, fluff, unedited.

Pairing: Werewolf!alpha!jungkook x omega!reader

Summary: A handsome man is hunting you in the dreams world, making every day more difficult to repress the need to come find him in the middle of the night to submit yourself to his every wish.

Requests: ON

A/N: Hello angels, sorry for the LONG wait, was so busy with school and depressing myself, but here it is, I tried to do my best and please also remember that English is not my first language be kind (😩), sorry for any grammar mistake, enjoy it and take care besties! 💖

Jungkook was insatiable, he just couldn’t seem to get enough of you, he has already fuck you senseless on the kitchen counter, the sofa, the living room floor, the restroom sink, simply everywhere, but he seem to want more and more and more, he wanted so much that you could hardly believe it.

Right now you were waking up, feeling incredibly good, feeling like everything was fine, but those emotions were gone as soon as common sense started to come back to you. Yesterday, Jungkook’s hands everywhere, that incredible first orgasm, but the one who made it happen… His scent, his bright eyes, strong arms making you feel like you can do it all, but above all the interest he had in you, what makes you feel on cloud nine it’s the way he seemed to be mesmerized by your expressions and sounds, knowing right where to touch without a doubt. Almost every space in your skin was painted by the ferocity with which he seems to love you, that marks on your skin being the carnal representation of your wonderful night but insecurities started to rise right at this moment, your mother will be mad, she will yell at you that in the pack were more suitable omegas for alpha Jungkook, the nasty glances and the possibility that some of the females in the pack may try to take what is yours, damn, the mere thought of it makes your eyes turn bright red provoked by the sudden rage coursing through your body. Immediately sensing the unpleasant feelings in you Jungkook comes out of the bathroom, wet hair and drops of water running down his body, making your mouth water, so just like magic your body and inner wolf instruct you to crawl to the end of the bed and touch him, to offer yourself to him, second thoughts completely forgotten by now so you follow your instincts and touch and admire from his hard abdomen to caressing his broad shoulders and just show him that look in your eyes, the one he knows like the back of his hand consequence of all the hours spent admiring and getting to know your body.

“Little girl woke up hungry?”

A hand of his goes to your waist and the other caress your cheek and just like fire can light up the darkest place your senses explode inside of you and once again everything feels a hundred times more, all the textures around you, you can hear the sounds of children and women playing in the distance, even the steps of the smallest animal but his deep chuckle brings you to him again and you feel like melting. Even kneeling at the edge of the bed he is much taller than you, (like a shelter for the most difficult moments in life), warm and golden skin beneath your fingertips and the delicious beating of his heart calming all your nerves and insecurities.

You look right back at him with the same intensity, different shades of golden dancing in your eyes while his are different shades of deep purple, the connection between both of you more palpable than never, trying not to break the eye contact you turn your face to his nearest scent gland, which means is his wrist, basking yourself in his delicious aroma.

“I see what you are at puppy, but I’m afraid that I can only deal with you once before I leave”

His last words hit you hard making you feel like drowning and desperate from one moment to another.

“Are you leaving?, I thought that this days… Were for us”

He can see your teary eyes making him wish he had never said that, breaking his heart a little.

“Don’t be like that baby, I will make sure to end that meeting as soon as I can to come back to your arms but you will have to be a good girl and wait here”

You know he is in a hurry but you can not help but want submit to his wonderful hands and simply seduce him to have him eating out of the palm of your hand, have him only for yourself and memorize all his features.

“You promised it, you said you were going to make me a priority always, you lied to me”

You weren’t usually like this, but when he is around your common sense flies out of the window, so while you're throwing a tantrum and moving uncontrollably under his body he grows impatient and his alpha instincts kick in, putting with undeniably force both your wrists above your head and growls, the signal he’s giving you to submit, the air in the bedroom changing its way.

“Pretty girls know how to wait and to obey their alphas, I already told you I was sorry puppy and remember that I don’t fucking owe apologies to anyone, if I knew this wasn’t important I would have told them to fuck up, you should know your place baby, but good news for you, I’m feeling like even though you have been a little bit of a bad girl you deserve to remember me all over this pretty skin while I’m gone, isn’t that what my puppy wanted, huh?”

He manhandles you until you’re comfortably seated en his strong tights, holding his gaze you can see all the things he wants you to know, all that shit that cannot be said, all the things that are not expressed in a good way by putting them into words, so instead you will use your bond and body.

“Sit on my dick slow baby, make it hurt so you have something to remember, get yourself full of my pups”

And you do as you are told, you slip right where you belong to, starting to bounce yourself slow and hard but even though it feels like heaven you feel like you’re going to die because he doesn’t touch you, he is just watching.

“Touch me please or I’m going to hit you hard”

He laughs but you know he's holding back the urge to order you around.

“I love when my little girl turns all bossy”

You wiggle your hips not exactly knowing where to look but what makes you let out a loud moan of his name is the way he thrusts his incredible hips harder than you had planned, tip of his touching the spongy spot that makes you meet god in person.

“If I’m not gonna have you for a while at least show me that fierce side of you one more time baby, gods above, look at you, bouncing tits and pretty face with an even prettier voice filling my ears of pretty sounds, fuck puppy, turn around and see yourself on the mirror”

You tell him to wait a second because you want to remember him like this, beneath your body and that playful smirk but when you do turn a little your face to see the image that bites back at you is incredible, you even smile don’t exactly recognizing you but looking damn hot on top of your man. You can’t with the feelings so the first thing that comes to your mind is to grab a hold of some of his beautiful locks of hair and tug hard, enough for him to gain some more lustful rage and suddenly slam you in the mirror that both of you were looking a moment ago with such excitement, what brings you back to reality of the pleasure that does nothing but increase is the manly hand grabbing at your jaw, making it open slightly, enough for him to spit on it. And you fucking love it.

“That’s a good mate baby, swallow it all and show me”

All this time he hasn’t stopped that sinful hips of his so at this time it’s starting to hurt and you begin to loose all your grips but you now that he will catch you anyways.

All you are feeling is incredible, you fell full, satisfied. Your throat feels hoarse but it doesn’t matter as you held gazes once again, but it’s the whole moment, your own bubble. Watching his pretty eyes you realize that you have won in live, entirely.

“You don’t have a fucking idea of how bad I want to mount you everywhere until I know you are really pregnant, hell baby I love you so fucking much”

He is right in front of your face, both of your moths open but your not kissing, now he’s the one grabbing your hair into a fist but he can do whatever he wants with you right now and all you will say is thank you.

You’re both touching the finish lines and it’s then that you wonder if this is how it will always be, hot, sweaty and just incredible.

He kiss you right at the final, where both of you have reached the peak, smiling at each other like fools but entirely living the dream.

[...]

You know that Jungkook told you to not leave the room until he was back but you were really hungry and needing some fresh air, so knowing that maybe everyone was serving him in that meeting you dared to head for the nearest kitchen to just grab something and come back. You are happy when no one approach you on the way, focusing on the task to make you a quick drink and cut up some fruit.

You feel happy and complete, at ease with the environment despite missing your alpha a bit, but your clothes and body still smell like him so that’s something for now. That’s the same reason why you don’t hear the pretty and stealthy she-wolf approaching the kitchen, watching you closely.

“It stinks in here, you must have had a very good night young lady”

You jump a little because you are not supposed to see anybody in the sensitive state in which you now find yourself.

“Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to be here”

You murmured your words shyly so low that if it were not for the incredible senses of the lycanthrope body, the girl would have miss it.

She chuckles lightly and by her smell you know that she is a rare breed of a female alpha, but right now every smell its simply too much, almost unpleasant.

“No worries baby, no one else is here but me”

She is a little intimidating to be honest and It’s evident that she knows clearly what to do to get what she wants.

“I should… Probably go”

You try to rush towards the exit in order to feel protected inside the four walls where everything smells like Jungkook but just as you are about to walk through the door the pretty girl grabs you a little hard enough to make you let out a whimper. And it’s that exact moment that lets you know that something is awfully wrong, that you should have never left the room.

“Where are you going?, let me talk to you for a moment, I never had the pleasure of knowing you formally”

You know that she can her your heart beating uncontrollably and smell the fear mixed with nerves.

“Don’t be scared pretty thing just wanted to chat with you”

There’s something strange in her, something that you can’t quite put your finger on.

“This shouldn’t be happening, I’m sorry but I really should get back to-”

While interrupting you she is also forcing you to sit on the small benches that are situated in the kitchen only to bring you to a full state of discomfort and nervousness.

“Is Jungkook really into you honey?”

The sudden questions makes you blink twice and hold a breath, this seems like a pointless conversation, she didn’t even try to do some more small talk .

“Pardon…?”

“Oh my, was I too direct?”

You still don’t see the clarity of the conversation because to your eyes she looks like a lunatic, asking questions about of nowhere.

“Honey, it’s just… Have you never heard what is whispered around the pack, about him and the pretty girl of the Kim pack or even worse… The boy with the deadly beauty from the Park family”

You do have heard the rumors, they were too strong when you were younger and more naive.

“I’m afraid that… I can’t help you with anything, I should really go…”

She puts his body in front of yours so that both of her arms are locked on the wall behind you, blocking any way out.

“Damn, just listen to me for a fucking second, I thought that you knew what was best for you”

You sit still because her harsh words came out more like an alpha command and you just couldn’t fight your true nature.

“Good girl”

You would never imagined that such a mundane phrase would disgust you so much.

“I know you don’t like me wolfie but I have been very well aware of the second thoughts that run at full speed in your little head about the bond that you share with that man”

if you had one wish, you would ask to disappear from this awful situation, if only you had listened to your alpha…

“I don’t understand what you want from me, please just let me go, I’m not going to tell Jungkook”

The female alpha just laughs a little, like you have said to her the funniest thing ever.

“He and I are at the same rank honey and of course you will not tell him anything, I have something that might interest you.”

Your posture is defensive but when she says that she backs a little and you take the opportunity to relax only little bit, a new look of curiosity in your angelic and innocent features.

“I don’t want to upset you honey but look at yourself for a second and tell me if you see yourself as the perfect representation of a good mate for someone like him”

She can easily see the insecurity cross your features because if anything has been bothering you since you found out about the bond it is that.

“I have the perfect solution to all of your concerns baby, there’s someone far more suited to take your place. Look at your neck, he hasn’t even marked you, but really, don’t worry and don’t overthink it, he will be in good hands. I know someone who can make the arrangements, all safe and of course you will be having a far more suited alpha”

It’s really stupid, but you actually think about it, as if all the previous moments with him didn't matter. At the end of the day all you're looking for is his well-being and happiness, isn't it?

People are going to talk, that's for sure, but you could assure him better commentaries and a better future, even if it's not by your side, but what will happen with the few moments that both of you have shared?

“In case you were wondering… No, you will not remember, everything will be gone as soon as the bond is broken. Just think about it for a second, remember all your insecurities and the bad feelings while being his mate, that must be annoying, let yourself be happy, both of you”

You are deep in your thoughts so you miss the way her canines grow in size and that dangerous gleam in her eyes.

“I… I’ll do it”

Call yourself a fool, but that tempting offer was enough for you to maybe, just maybe get yourself a better life, but above all a better life and opportunities for him… Or at least that was what your insecure brain thought.

Tag list: @min-nicoleee, @in-a-way-that-i-should-not, @imluckybitches, @teresaisla, @anachikartadze, @jeonwiixard, @seagulljjk

Nexts update: ?

All rights reserved.

[thefanbasewhore]

Danger.

Summary: Din warned you not to follow him, it’s too dangerous. His instructions were clear, you stay in town while he goes to fight the Krayt Dragon, but if the baby gets to go, why can’t you? 

Warning/Content: This is short but violence, ya know the usual. Angry Din with some yelling but they make up in the end. Din sees reader cry for the first time. 

Paring: Din Djarin/Female Reader 

A loud gasp falls from between your lips as you watched another body wrapped in tan cloth is thrown into the sand only feet away, blood splatters feet away, painting your skin with effortless strokes.  The air felt thick from all of this tension, the mixture of blood and sweat filled the air. The sand was spotted with blood, the first attempt at blowing the dragon up failed, instead Mando began to fly around, distracting it, you could see him but he couldn’t see you, maybe it was better that way, but without a doubt he was right, you should not be here.  There’s a whoosh of air that knocks the Mandalorian inches from the rock you’re taking shelter behind. He must be a little disoriented as slowly lifted himself to his knees, hand out in front of him for support. 

This was a terrible idea, Din pretty much spent all of yesterday telling that you can’t go no matter how much you think you can handle it, he wasn’t putting you down, didn’t once say you’re not good enough, just more training before putting yourself out like that. Naturally, you disagreed with him. After spending a year and a few months together training, being with him but like usual Din was so right. 

 Here you are, hyperventilating against a bumpy rock that is digging so roughly in your back that there must be blood. With a light head shake of pain he looks directly at you, thank god his face is covered, not wanting to see just how angry he was.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!”  His voice is loud, snapping at you with venom. “I told you no!” His eyes dart past you, towards the dragon. “Stay here don’t move until I get back. I mean it.” 

His tone is not one to mess with, you don’t move you barely breath as the whooshing of his jet pack flies past. Peering over the rock you couldn’t help but notice Din positioning, still as he holds onto the animal but the Krayt Dragon coming right for him. 

Before you know it, your feet are running towards him, mouth opening to yell his name but the jaws of the beast take him instead. There is no more breath inside your body, throat starting to close making it hard to even think, a dull ache fills your chest as you try to rub it away.

Vision starts to blur but you wipe it away quickly as a chorus of cheers fill the air. Din is flying above that carcass of the dragon, covered in a thick, green slime but alive to say the least. 

You don’t dare move a muscle, but even if you wanted to you don’t think you can. It all flashed before your eyes, living this life with Din wasn’t much but it was better then the one you had before. Your heart is beating so fast it’s suffocating, heat filling cheeks, turning them red from either the sun or the mass hysteria that almost was. So deep in thought you don’t noticing the Mandalorian standing in your personal space, arms wrapped across his chest, his tone is displeased. “Let’s go.” 

Not saying anything you shakily following behind him. The Mandalorian does not bother to look back, at least five feet in front of you walking in complete silence. And to be honest it scared you. Sure, Din would get annoyed, grumble to himself, but never ever has he been so angry at you. With how long you have been traveling together, Din was never quiet. 

The silence last about a full half an hour, trying to calm down before speaking to him. “Din, I’m sorry.” 

Once again, nothing was said. You sigh, catching up at him, hand meeting with the leather of his forearm, closer to the skin then his armor, silently begging him to look at you. “Din, Please. I’m sorry. I - ”

“No.” He mumbles. Usually he would love your close proximity, smelling the sweet floral perfume, feeling the heat of your body he scowled away. “You don’t get to Din please me! You get no say at all right now! I asked you to stay back, I asked you for one thing.”

“Din, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thin-”

“Wasn’t thinking?!” Din’s fist clench next to his side, a force a habit really. “For putting us both in danger? do you know what I would’ve did if you’ve gotten hurt or killed?! Not only did you put yourself in danger you put me in it too, I couldn’t think straight knowing you’re there! Who would take care of you if I died?!”

Despite the situation your skin heats up quickly at his words, blood bubbling underneath. “You’re one to talk! You willingly got eaten alive by it! What if you couldn’t get out?”

Din tries to talk but you keep going. “Don’t turn this around on me! I would not be the reason you died, and take care of me? You’re so full of yourself, I bet you go around telling everyone that the kid isn’t the only one you take care of.”

It clear Din doesn���t like what you’re saying, before you could even react he is an inch away from your face, finger rising in the air, poking your chest, it’s not hard at all, it doesn’t hurt but there to show you he means his words. “Don’t you talk about me like that. You know what I meant.. do not turn my words around on me.”

His close proximity along with the touch on your exposed chest, the heat of this planet making normal clothes almost impossible to bare made you blush, you wish it didn’t. “You can’t blame this all on me, you almost -.” 

You hate the way tears fill your eyes, throat clogs with emotion, cutting you off. Small hand meet with his chest plate, pushing it away. “You almost died.”

To say Din was stunned was an understatement, his jaw dropped under the helmet. Never, ever in the whole year since you joined him had he seen tears but man, he wish he never said a word. It made his heart sink, watching those eyes grow red, puffy with emotion as they slip past eyelashes. Emotion bubbles inside his own chest to match the loose sob that falls from your lips. The strongest woman he’s ever known.. breaking down in front of him and it’s all his fault. 

“Stop.” You didn’t mean to loose it like this, but it could not be helped. The yelling, the way his words burned against your heart. You choose to ignore his words, sniffling, avoiding his gaze at all costs. 

“Stop, please.” This time it was softer, almost like begging. His gloved hand, wrapping around your bare wrist gently, pulling you closer to him. “I’m sorry for yelling.”

Eyes are as wide as saucers as he places a soft hand against the nape of your neck, pulling gently to meet his forehead. It’s quiet for a few moments before he speaks. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“No, you’re right.” You mumble, surprised at the sudden touch of intimacy as his free hand cradles your cheek, angling your head to look up at him. The pad of his leather glove wipes the falling tears.

“That is no reason to make you cry, I’m sorry for yelling. I’m sorry for not realizing how much was at risk when I did that, I didn’t want to hurt you. I never want to.” His voice is low as he admits it, “You are the strongest woman I know, I never doubt you, you can fight, you can take care of yourself. I’m sorry for making you feel like you can’t because truthfully you care for me more than I ever did for you.”

You’re about to say something else but his words are out before you can even open your mouth. “I didn’t want you to come because I’m afraid to loose you.. you mean a lot to me and I’m too selfish to let the world have you.. for that I’m sorry.”

“Din.” Voice horse as pressing against his gloved hand, “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize for wanting to keep me safe.”

“But I never want you to feel stuck, I’m sorry I said that to you, you can take care of yourself.”

“It’s not a big deal.” You argue, “I know you didn’t mean it, besides if there’s one person in all the galaxies, I know you’ll always be there to take care of me.”

He groans, “Don’t say that cyar’ika… I don’t like how it sounds. It’s undermining you, I didn’t mean it.”

The last of the tears begin to dry, but now that Din has finally made the move to hold you, comfort you he doesn’t want to let go, he wants it to be like this forever. 

“I know I’m difficult and that you -.” He doesn’t need to finish you already know what he’s going to say.

“I care for you Din. I always have.”

He pauses, “Good, because I love you.”

This makes your throat dry, but a happy smile curls against lips. “You do?”

“Mmmm.” He agrees, hand traveling from red cheeks, curling the tips of your hair to down your arm to where his hand meets your own. He doesn’t bother to curl his fingers with your own but instead gives you the choice, “Let’s go home.”

“Only if you promise to keep calling me cyar’ika.” Smaller fingers fill the gap between his own with a cheeky smile makes him chuckle.

“Don’t push your luck..” He waits a few seconds as his boots press forward, “Cyar’ika.”

The Mandalorian couldn’t never hold a grudge for long anyways

[kassandras-one-braincell]

Abby Anderson x GN!Reader - Please Don’t Leave Me

Bad Things Happen Bingo prompt: Please Don’t Leave Me (I’m creative with my titles)

Can be found on AO3 here.

Setting: before Abby leaves to go golfing. Abby and the reader are in an established relationship.

Warning: angst angst angst, excessive usage of the f-bomb and discussions of murder.

(Y/N) replacer safe.

Word count: 1846

Fuck, she’s really doing this.

Every day since Isaac had granted the Salt Lake Crew leave to hunt down Joel Miller, you tried to bargain with Abby, tried to make her see some sense. That killing him won’t take away any of the pain she feels. The grief. The gaping hole in her heart. But she’d always brush you off, distancing herself from you, suppressing her emotions with bicep curls and crunches as per habit.

Each passing hour, a nail was hammered into the coffin of the woman you love. And this morning is the final nail.

The quaint apartment you call home is filled with a cacophony of rustling and pleas as Abby shovels supplies into her backpack, preparing for her hunt. In her mind, Joel’s death warrant is signed, the execution nigh. And God are you desperate, trying to drill some semblance of reality into her stubborn mind one last time before she embarks on a journey she’ll only regret.

“Abby, please just listen to me for one minute—”

“I need to do this.” She heads to your small shared closet, refusing to look at you from your position by the bed. You frantically try to intercept her path, knowing full well she’s much, much stronger and can reposition you with ease. But it’s worth a try.

“This isn’t going to solve anything,” you implore, clutching the wood.

“Move, (Y/N).”

“Abby, this isn’t going to bring him back. You know that.”

“Move.” Her tone is exasperated, utterly focused on packing her shit and promptly leaving. Your heart sinks to your stomach.

“That girl in the hospital. The immune one. She must have been like a daughter to him for Joel to kill a group of innocent people for her,” you plead, feet firmly planted on the floor. Searching for her eyes, those blue irises alight with a maelstrom of hateful determination. They meet yours. “Killing him will just put her through all of this.”

Abby reaches for the closet door and slowly pulls it open, acknowledging your reluctance to move, deciding to disregard it. The wood begins to dig into your back and you’re forced to step aside. “This isn’t going to end, Abby. You fucking know this.” As she folds some spare clothes and places them in her backpack, you fall gracelessly to the bed, needing to sit down. Bile climbs up your oesophagus. Shit, where was her sense of fucking empathy?

“Abby…” Once again, she doesn’t so much as spare you a glance, folding the garments in robotic fashion. “Abby, you said she was a kid. A kid.”

The final shirt is stuffed haphazardly into the bag. She grits her teeth and turns to you. “He killed dozens of Fireflies, (Y/N). Dozens. And that’s all we fucking know of. There could be hundreds of others because he’s a stone cold killer.” Her face flushes with anger, no remnants of the woman you know left behind. “No one person is worth that many fucking lives.”

You let out a breathy laugh in sheer disbelief. “But it’s not about them, is it? Not to you.” The words escaped you in a hiss, one that didn’t go unnoticed. “Never fuckin’ has been.”

Abby rolls her eyes and grabs her maps from the coffee table, iron fist crumpling the papers beyond legibility. “There could have been a cure. A fucking cure to all this.”

On the surface, her words are rational. One life for a cure that would save millions was a worthy sacrifice, that you would be foolish to deny. But the odds of developing this cure were slim, and the girl would have likely died in vain. You knew this. Abby knew this. Jerry knew this.

With a shaky breath, you cradle your arms, never before having felt the urge to cage yourself around Abby. Fingers firmly gripping at your elbows, you let the cards fold. Unadulterated truth.

“You’re in denial, Abigail.”

A tut. “Don’t you fucking ‘Abigail’ me.” Her previous efforts to maintain a steady tone have been vanquished, anger seeping into each progressing word.

She’s gone.

And it’s this precise revelation that fills your eyes with oceans. Throat closing up, nose burning with the urge to spill over, you attempt – attempt – to articulate yourself, to no avail. Seconds later, rivulets trickle from your eyes to your cheeks, and you find yourself sniffling like some stupid kid… No, not a kid. A grieving adult, bereaved by the loss of a lover. Because the other figure in the room is but a husk of the radiant soul you fell for.

“All…” You pause to inhale, deeply: a futile effort to regulate your breathing, to lay rest to the turmoil suffocating your ability to fucking think. “All that’s going to happen is… You’re going to have to—” Hiccupping, you close your eyes, praying no more tears would fall. “To live with the guilt of orphaning a kid.”

Sentence finally out, you surrender to your sorrows, allowing them to wrack your chest with sobs and heaves until it gets too much, salt freely spilling from the floodgates. You can’t…you won’t bring yourself to look at Abby – the machine in her place, one programmed to kill and kill alone.

It’s wholly terrifying.

Distress flickers in her eyes, her frown slackening for a fraction of a second at the sound of your despair. “No one is forcing you to come,” she puts plainly, as if that has anything to do with the issue at hand.

“You know this – isn’t about that. Fuck, even Owen knows this…this is a bad idea.” Too dejected to cry. Too dejected to battle the hitched breaths you take trying to force out the words.

Words that fall upon deaf ears. “That’s not what Owen told me.” She slots a Swiss army knife into her cargo pants’ pocket, headed with a canteen in hand towards the kitchenette. “He was there, (Y/N). He agreed that Joel needs to die.”

“Because he’s fucking scared of you!” We all are, nearly breaks free from your lips, but that’s not what Abby needs to hear right now. Nothing that will push her away. Further away. The reigns you have on your lover are fraying, leaving you grasping at nought but strings. Frenzied, you attempt a softer, less concrete approach. “Baby, it isn’t normal to be so…hellbent on revenge like this.”

Silence. The delicate trickle of water sounds from the faucet as Abby fills her canteen. Then, a sigh, one of frustration as opposed to defeat. “If you think calling me ‘baby’ is going to erase four motherfucking years of grief, you are sorely mistaken. You’re smarter than that.”

Patience thinning, you stand up, wading through strewn supplies across the apartment floor towards the kitchenette. “Four years and you still haven’t given yourself time to mourn properly,” you reason, deliberately obstructing her path out of the kitchen with your body again. “Maybe if you had you’d see some fucking sense.”

God, that was a mistake. Shit, shit, shit shit shit the last thing you want to do is piss her off, not with her mind in such a volatile state, devoid of all logic.

“I appreciate you’ve lived a fucking sheltered life since the outbreak,” she seethed. What?

“That’s not true—”

“And you have no fucking idea what it’s like to have someone ripped away from you like that.” Volume rising, words a mantra fuelled by detest. “And you know, maybe, just fucking maybe, this’ll be my one chance to put an end to this shit!” The fist not clutching her backpack clenches. And for the first time ever while alone in her company, you flinch.

“He fucking deserves this, (Y/N)! If I can show him a fraction of the pain he caused me—”

“Abby, you’re scaring me,” you whimper, closing in on yourself. Genuinely afraid she’d raise her hand towards you.

Had you a mirror, you’d know truly how perturbed you look in this very moment. Streamlines drying on your cheeks, eyes reddening and puffy from crying, wide with fear like a doe face-to-face with a moving car. Body subconsciously making itself smaller, reducing its surface area, reducing the likelihood for any incoming swings to hit.

She lowers her guard, colour returning to her knuckles as she unravelled her fist. Knitted brows returning to their natural place above her eyes, mouth parted as the horror of her behaviour settles in.

“You know I would never hurt you, right?” Even her previously stern voice cracks at this.

It takes tremendous willpower to not fall back as she takes a tentative step towards you.

Drying your eyes with your sleeves – her sleeves…you forgot you’re wearing her old sweater, the notion sour on your tongue – you break your mutual gaze. “You’re not you right now,” you whisper, not trusting your larynx to produce anything above a mouse’s squeak. “This isn’t the Abby I know.”

For the first time this morning, a sentiment other than bloodlust registers in her face. Hurt.

Either unable or unwilling to respond, Abby recommences her packing in solemn silence.

Shit, you have three, perchance five minutes at best to dissuade your girlfriend from leaving and doing something that will haunt her for all eternity. Yet all you can do is brace yourself against the wall and allow a second tsunami of tears to wash over you, pangs of anguish striking your heart. “Abby—”

“I’m going, (Y/N).” Firm, with a shred less conviction, but firm enough.

A violent sob tears through you as you beg, beg, the vessel of the woman you adore, “Please don’t leave me.”

For a fleeting moment, your heart stops as she hesitates in her tracks. A flicker of hope seizes your mind, that perhaps she has reconsidered, that finally some logic has entered her train of thought.

It all crashes down when she reaches for the spare rifle ammunition by the front door.

“Fuck, Abby—”

“I’ll be gone a month at most.”

Hail-Mary.

Hail-Mary.

Please.

Chest shuddering with each sob that wracks through you, you utter through violently trembling lips and hiccups, “You’re so – fucking blinded – by your hatred – right now – that you can’t – fuck, see – this will – kill you—”

The gravity of the situation threatens to make your knees buckle.

Abby plucks her jacket from the coat hanger and wades over to your crippled stance by the kitchen. A hand brushes your salt-slicked cheek as a lock of hair is swept out of your line of sight. “I love you,” she whispers in pained honesty.

“Abby…” You try to take her hand, to ground her, to remind her of the life she’s leaving behind on her relentless pursuit of this warped sense of justice.

“Goodbye, (Y/N).” She squeezes your palm and lets go, zipping up her pack as the front door to the apartment creaks open and slams shut.

Death is a word that isn’t used lightly, especially not after an epidemic takes the world by storm. But part of your spirit certainly died the moment that door closed behind her.

(I’ll leave it up to you whether she has a change of heart or leaves and scores a few hits above par.)