#when I was younger I used to think ‘when ammo dies I’ll just go with her so we’ll never be apart’… never did I imagine this

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Hey! Can you write something with Chishiya and Y/N when she almost died in game beacuse of Niragi but didn't tell anyone about this (he tripped her on purpouse or smth). Chishiya finds her up on the roof few days later really anxious+crying beacuse her visa is ending and she is scared that Niragi will come and play the same game as her and will try to do something bad. Chishiya becames really protective over her especially when he sees her bruised knees.

Here you go!

Comfort Zone | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Niragi, OC’s, Hatter)

Summary: You came close to dying due to being attacked by Niragi, and you fear it will happen again during the next game. Chishiya notices your anxiety and tries his best to prevent it from happening.

Warnings: mention of murder, swearing, blood, violence (punching)

Word Count: 3.9k

*reader is female

“Just my luck,” you groaned out, lifting yourself to your feet by using a chair nearby for leverage. “Not only am I clumsy as fuck, I’m also stuck with a group of murderers.”

Hatter had suggested you go with a few of the militants for the next game, as he wished for them to test you to see if you were capable enough to join them.

It was a hearts game called Capture The Flag. It was very self explanatory. You had to capture the opposite team’s flag and bring it back to your base without getting killed by them. The game would continue until a flag was captured, and the losing team would have their small bomb strapped to their chest explode as soon as the flag was returned to the team’s base. So theoretically, you could die at any second. And if that wasn’t stressful enough, everyone carried weapons, ranging from machete’s to revolvers, so you were on high alert.

You were on the same team as a muscular militant woman named Ren and a much younger kid (he looked around fifteen years old) called Minato. But of course, Niragi had to be placed on your team, bringing you nothing but more trouble.

The room you stood in was dark and ominous. You managed to trip over a few shards of glass and impact on the ground heavily, causing your hip to throb in pain as you attempt to recover from the fall.

You had been separated from your group. You managed to sneak off without them noticing, just rather being on your own than with others. You thought you had a better chance by yourself anyway, as no one was there to betray you.

In the Borderland, you didn’t know who to trust, so you kept to yourself.

The brightness of your game phone flashed a light green, reminding you of what colour team you were on. You had to search for a base that was illuminated by a blue light and take the flag that was supposedly meant to be there. But so far, you hadn’t seen any indication of the other team. You hadn’t even seen any of the other players now that you thought about it.

You made your way out of the empty room you had just checked, peeking around the corner down the hall before stepping out of the doorframe. The small  bomb strapped to your chest over your shirt felt heavy on your frame, especially knowing that it held your life in its hands.

You sighed loudly and rubbed your hands together to relieve the tension in your muscles slightly. You had to be close, surely. You had been walking around the abandoned hospital for ages, as if you hadn’t at least walked past the enemy’s base and missed it somehow.

Just as you were about to turn the corner to the main corridor, a whispered grunt made you stop in your tracks. You held your breath and pressed yourself against the cold wall next to you, trying to listen to any movements they make.

The sounds of rustling met your ears, making you frown. It sounded like someone was trying to find something in their pocket, moving around the objects until they’ve found what they need.

You slowly peeked one eye around the corner, making sure not to accidentally hit the wall or fall forwards in fear of the person being an enemy player. Good news, it wasn’t. But seeing someone on your team wasn’t much reassurance either, as all three of them seemed to be clinically insane.

Niragi was crouching over a dead body. A game phone was thrown to the side on the ground a few feet away, emitting a bright blue light. The dead person must have been on the blue team.

The blood pooled around the body, Niragi’s boot being in one of the puddles.

‘Why didn’t I hear the gunshots?’ you asked yourself, watching as Niragi rummaged through the pockets of the guy’s jacket. He was probably looking for another weapon or perhaps something to assist him in the game.

Your eyebrows furrowed when you noticed a slight blue tinge on the fabric of Niragi’s shirt. You turned your head the other way down the hall, eyes lighting up at the sight of a bright fluorescent blue light coming from around the corner. That must’ve been the enemies base.

You glanced back quickly to Niragi, noting he was busy with the corpse, still searching through their pockets. Perhaps you could make it if you were quiet enough.

You slowly lifted a foot while keeping your eyes pinned to the man down the hall, ready to dive back behind the wall if he decided to turn around. When your whole body had left the comfort of the darkened hallway you came from, you turned and quickly shuffled down the hall towards the light, looking over your shoulder every now and then.

When you had turned the corner, you let out a sigh in relief. “Fuck,” you rasped out, wiping your sweating brow with the back of your wrist. “If only I came with Chishiya, I wouldn’t be so cautious.”

You entered a room a few steps in front of you that had a door slightly ajar with the blue light pushing through. You squinted your eyes as you opened the door at the brightness of the light, covering your eyes and hissing lightly.

When your eyes adjusted, you felt a euphoric feeling fill your body when you caught sight of the blue flag resting against the wall. You immediately scrambled over and gripped the wood, feeling the sweet ecstasy of victory and being able to live another few days.

You walked out of the room flag in hand. But as soon as you exited the door, your game phone rang loudly, making you freeze in your spot.

“Green Team has now obtained Blue Flag.”

Your breath became lodged in your throat and you felt your fist tighten on the flag pole. If the game announced it to the rest of the players, they were going to come after you.

Your fear was proven correct when you heard loud footsteps down the hall, making its way to your position. You knew it was Niragi, but the fact that he was on your team gave you slight reassurance. He wouldn’t hurt someone he’s meant to be working with, right?

You couldn’t be so sure, so you pulled out the fairly sized knife that you had sneaked into your pocket before leaving for the game. There was nowhere you could run. Down the hall was the only exit you had.

Before you knew it, the angered face of Niragi turned the corner and you locked eyes. He glanced down at the large knife you held at your side, then at the flag. A smirk painted on his face and he chuckled cockily.

“You think you can defend yourself with that piece of shit?” he asked you, taking a few threatening steps towards your frame. Your feet remained planted on the ground, trying not to appear as panicked as you actually were. “Everyone’s going to come here, and you’re going to fend them off with a kitchen knife?”

You felt belittled from his mocking, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. “The fuck else am I supposed to do?” you asked, pointing the tip of the knife in his direction.

Silence filled the air as you and Niragi had a stare down. The grip he held on his rifle tightened whenever you shifted, never failing to make your heart skip a fearful beat.

“Princess,” he started with a sickening pet name, “why don’t you give the flag to me? I’ll protect you.” His sudden change in mood gave you whiplash and you took a step back in confusion, still holding your weapon towards him.

“What?” you muttered out, a bamboozled expression on your face. “I said, pass the flag to me. I’ll make sure we’ll be okay,” he answered while slinging his gun to his side a bit too casually for your comfort.

You watched as he fiddled with the bullet compartments of his rifle. He seemed to have been checking the ammo, making you realise what he was intending.

You shook your head, trying to sound normal, but the slight shakiness in your voice made you quite obvious. “It’s fine Niragi,” you insisted, “I can get it to our base myself.”

He glanced up at your frame as he closed the bullet compartment to his rifle. His serious expression made your adrenaline kick in and your hands began to shake, becoming obvious from the way the tip of the knife was quivering.

“Fine,” he muttered out, basically snarling at you. “I’ll do this the hard way.”

His words made your expression drop and before you could even think, Niragi swung the butt of his rifle and socked you across the side of your head, making you fall to the ground abruptly and drop the blue flag. You groaned in pain, and yet you didn’t even get a second to recover before Niragi blew another hit to your shoulder, kicking you harshly in the stomach at the same time.

You suffocated on nothing, becoming winded from his kick. Gasping for air, you attempted to crawl away from the violent man, shuffling on your hands and knees. Another hit to your lower back brought you to your stomach and you gagged at the sudden feeling.

Luckily, Niragi had quit abusing you and reached down next to your bruised body to pick up the blue flag. “Maybe next time, be careful what you say to me,” he hissed into your ear before standing up and walking away from you.

You laid on the floor for a short moment, trying to compose yourself and control your breathing once again. When you finally came to your senses, you lifted yourself up from the ground while groaning in pain. You had to find a hiding spot, otherwise the Blue Team would find you at their base and kill you.

You used the wall for support as you stood up, bones cracking and blood dripping down the side of your face. You lifted your hand and pressed against your throbbing head, wincing as the pain rocketed from your action.

‘At least he didn’t kill me,’ you thought to yourself. A bright shimmer caught your eye and you turned your head to see your weapon laying on the ground. A grumble left your body as you leant down to pick it up, admiring the way the blue light reflected off it.

You leant against the wall and slowly made your way down the hall, searching for a small cabinet or anywhere that you could hide for the next ten minutes or so. You got a wave of relief when you spotted a cleaner’s cupboard just down the corridor, stumbling towards it.

When you pulled yourself inside the dark cupboard and closed the door, you allowed yourself to slide down against the cold wall, feeling a few tears slip from your eyes.

All you had to do was wait for Niragi to get the flag back to the Green Base and you would be fine, hopefully.

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

You dragged your exhausted body towards your hotel room, your legs throbbing in pain at every step you climbed. You had decided against going back to the hotel in the car with the other militants, as you didn’t want to deal with the tension of sitting next to the man who almost killed you. Plus, the car would hold half the amount of people it left the hotel with, probably making the atmosphere more eerie.

The door of your hotel room felt heavy as you pushed it open, stumbling into the cold room. You groaned in frustration at your past self. Why didn’t you leave your heater on before you left?

You let out a deep sigh before falling backwards onto your bed, spreading your arms out wide to feel the comforting blankets underneath you. Your eyes closed in content, trying so hard to ignore the pain on the side of your head and your knees.

The blankets shifted underneath your tired frame as you rolled over, pulling the duvet over yourself in the process. You didn’t even have the energy to turn your body so you could place your head on the pillow, so you simply slipped into unconsciousness in the position you laid in, hoping for a better day to come tomorrow.

Whilst you travelled to dreamland in your mind, a short blonde man stood outside your door, knocking lightly on the wood. When Chishiya received no response, he lightly turned the silver door knob and peaked his head into the room. A soft sigh of relief left him when you saw you safe and sound, asleep on your bed. He had been worried from how you were acting as you slumped to your room, noticing that you seemed more tired than usual.

Chishiya walked into the room and quickly shut the door behind him, holding the doorknob until it was completely shut to avoid the clicking noise. He tip-toed towards your frame and admired your sleeping self, his lips curling up at the sight.

“Get some sleep love,” he whispered, running the back of his hand softly down your cheek to sooth you. “You need it.”

Before Chishiya left the room, he tucked the blanket tighter around your body so you stayed warm and gave you a soft peck on your forehead. He glanced back once more before stepping out of the room. He headed back to his own hotel room to get some sleep, feeling content that the person he cares for most was okay.

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

As the days of your visa grew fewer, your dread grew bigger. Thoughts from your last game bounced around your head, continuing to come back to you in the most random of times. Sometimes you would feel an imaginary harsh kick to your back in your dreams, causing you to wake up abruptly, covered in sweat. You couldn’t escape the fear of Niragi attempting to kill you again. If you managed to run into him again like in the last game, it would be a guarantee that he wouldn’t let you off the hook again.

Just the thought of Niragi blasting a few bullets from his sniper through your head brought you the irrational belief that that was your future. No matter how hard you attempted to shake it, it found its way back into your mind.

The stars shone in the sky, glistening against the endless ceiling of darkness and winking at you from above. It felt foreign to see such sights in the world you lived in, where everything seemed to hold some kind of darkness behind it. Even the label of ‘Utopia’ on The Beach was a complete lie.

You huffed in a stressful tone, hanging your head low and rubbing your eyes with your hands as you leaned your elbows on the railing. The minutes before the next game were becoming less and less. If only you had one more day on your visa, you could potentially avoid all the bullshit that Niragi brought with him everywhere he went.

Hatter had informed you that Niragi was taking you to another game, as he didn’t get to properly assess your skills last time. He was making you go because that night was the night your visa ended. You didn’t have a choice.

Before you knew it, small droplets of tears escaped your eyes, cascading down your face and dripping off your chin. You felt helpless and scared. You could do nothing but wait for the fire alarms to ring to indicate Hatter’s speech before everyone left for their own games. It felt like your time on the roof was lasting forever, so you tried to drag out your time there as long as you could.

You closed your eyes and lifted your head high, letting the cold air swim around your face and bring you comfort. “This isn’t fucking fair,” you stated bluntly to yourself.

It wasn’t. Why did the world think you deserved this kind of stress? You never asked to be in the Borderland. You never asked to be involved with these people. Why did you have to be thrown into this mess?

The sound of light footsteps ripped you from your thoughts, causing you to whip your head around and lock eyes with Chishiya, who froze a few metres away. Your face visibly relaxed at the sight of your boyfriend, smiling weakly as he lifted his hands in defence from your paranoid actions.

“Hey Chishiya,” you greeted him, turning your back and wiping your tears from your eyes. “Sorry, I’ll be down soon. Just give me a minute.”

Chishiya frowned at your shaky voice, approaching your frame and placing a soft hand on your shoulder. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

You turned your face to him and his eyes displayed concern as soon as they met with your teary ones. “Wait, baby why are you crying?” he asked, placing a hand on the small of your back and another cupping your cheek to make you look at him.

You shook your head and gave a fake smile, not wanting to tell Chishiya what had happened. “It’s fine. I’m just getting a bit stressed for tonight.”

Chishiya eyebrows furrowed at your answer, noticing how you bit your lip after your sentence. You only ever did that when you were lying.

His eyes glanced up towards the small gash on the side of your head. “How did this happen?” he questioned you, lifted his hand to run a gentle thumb over the injury. You glanced at him nervously as he waited for an answer.

“Oh that? It’s nothing. I just managed to trip over and smack my head on the wall during the last game. You know me, such a clumsy idiot,” you tried to laugh it off.

Chishiya didn’t buy it for a second. He moved his gaze to the rest of your body, searching for any more injuries. He had had enough of your lying when he saw your bruised knees, dried blood around the edges of small cuts from earlier when you accidentally reopened them.

“Y/N, what happened the other day? Who did this to you?” Chishiya asked in a serious tone, wrapping his hands around your neck and holding you protectively. “These look bad Y/N. I’ll have to treat them for you.”

You nodded, looking down at the ground. Chishiya lifted your chin with his finger to make you have eye contact. “You going to tell me what happened?”

You let out a big sigh, accepting the fact that you can’t hide literally anything from Chishiya. He knew you too well.

“Look, it’s fine Chishiya. Niragi just got mad at me during a game. You know how he is. I’m honestly glad that he didn’t do anything else,” you explained, watching as Chishiya’s face contorted into anger at your confession.

He fell silent, making you more tense. You knew Chishiya was really aggravated when he went completely silent.

“Niragi did this to you?” he asked scarily calmly, running a soft hand over the gash on your head again. You nodded, leaning against his touch.

“Alright. You stay with me tonight. I don’t care what Hatter has asked from you. You stick by my side and don’t let go of my hand,” Chishiya demanded you, pulling you into a comforting hug. You tucked your face into his neck, breathing in his scent.

“I love you,” he whispered out, giving you a soft smooch on your cheek. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”

You shook your head in denial. “Don’t be baby. You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

Chishiya smiled happily at your words, pulling back from the hug and giving you a loving kiss on your lips. You both held each other close, moving your mouths against one another’s intimately.

You felt safe in Chishiya’s arms and he felt safe in yours. And that’s where both of you were intending to stay as long as possible.

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

You sat on Chishiya’s small bed, admiring as the young man wiped carefully over the dried blood on your knees. He was being so careful, holding you by the underneath of your knee and making sure not to press too hard on your bruises.

You had returned from the game you attended with Chishiya. Before the game commenced, you both hid on the roof so Niragi or Hatter wouldn’t come looking for you, wanting to take you to the game. You waited until most cars had left before making your way down to the bottom floor, climbing into the last car together that only held two other people you didn’t know.

Chishiya made sure to keep you by his side the entire game, not letting go of your hand once. At some point you were afraid he was going to sacrifice himself for you, as he wasn’t acting too far from it. His protective side had kicked in and he wasn’t taking your situation lightly.

At some point you both had to hide from an attacker. Chishiya had shoved you both into the corner of a small room, shielding your entire body with his with both of his hands against the walls, keeping you trapped in and hidden. The action alone was enough to make you realise how much Chishiya actually cared, how afraid he actually was of losing you.

“All done,” the blonde announced, breaking you from your thoughts. You grinned as he glanced up at you, giving you a cheeky wink. He shifted up the bed and leant against the headboard beside you. “Are you okay?” he asked once again, his fingers lightly running along your thigh soothingly. You nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about Niragi,” Chishiya reassured you after a short moment of silence. You looked up at him from his shoulder. “Why not?” you asked.

Chishiya gave a cocky smirk and ruffled your hair playfully. “I’ll make sure to give him a piece of my mind,” he said in a monotone voice as usual.

You chuckled at his words before placing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I’m sure you will,” you laughed.

Chishiya smiled happily and turned his body. He picked you up slightly and made you lie down before placing himself next to your frame. You rolled over to face him, not even getting a chance to breath before his lips were on yours.

His kiss was passionate, running his tongue along your lips to ask for you to open them. You obliged, letting him have his way with you. You ran your fingers up underneath his shirt, feeling his warm skin shiver underneath you touch. He groaned at the feeling, pushing himself closer to you and placing one hand on the back of your neck while the other dragged lazy patterns along your bare hip.

You two held each other close, getting lost and drunk on the thoughts and feelings of one another. No one could make each of you feel the way you made each other feel. In Chishiya’s arms you felt safe and content, making all the terrible things around you disappear. And for Chishiya, you made him feel sane again. You made him remember that he was human, he was allowed to have human emotions and make mistakes.

You brought a sense of comfort to one another, and clearly Chishiya wasn’t willing to let anything come between you both.

[mirror-vicit-omnia]

Ya know what? F*ck it. DMC Heathers!AU where Dante is Jason Dean but never tries to blow up the school or murder anybody and the reader is Veronica.

Dante has an adoptive jackass dad, Big Blood Dean. Sparda is in hell and Eva is dead. Vergil is a missing person's case no one can solve. Big Blood Dean adopted him for the money and drags Dante all across the map with his shady deconstruction company.

The reader is in the same situation as veronica, it goes to canon. They get an in with the Heathers, there's probably a Martha involved.

Fight For Me. Just imagine Dante kicking ass. Those jocks wouldn't stand a chance in a million years.

I like the West End performance for all this.

Dante doesn't quote Baudelaire (if this was Vergil instead of Dante, yes he would have)

Reader: "Okay, don't just drop a snappy one-liner and then walk away! Excuse me? I didn't catch your name?"

Dante, all devil-may-care swagger: "Well, I didn't throw it."

If you think Jason Dean was a good fighter, you should see dante. He's always finding places to train with his sword and picking fights to keep sharp. Yep, he still has demonic powers and demonic heritage and a demonic sword.

He's been dragged to 10 different high schools. Now, Dante is the kind of guy who can just drop everything, pick up and go, if it weren't for the fact that he's adoptive dad sucks. Yeah, he's asking himself these days why he didn't just bail sooner.

He probably tried to run away when he was younger and the cops found him. Even young little Dante knew not to let anyone know about his demon heritage I guess. I don't know.

Anyway, enough logic!

The reader and Dante do not cause the death of Heather chandler. Maybe they think they did, cuz Dante still made the joke of poisoning Heather, and the mugs still got switched up, but later on after the entire world thinks Heather Chandler died a saint, the reader tells Dante that she doesn't think whatever Heather drank was what killed her.

Of course, the body is gone and so is any evidence that could have told them otherwise.

Meanwhile, Heather Duke rises in red and Kurt and Ram insist that they slept with the reader and did drugs.

Dante picks the reader up when they fall apart crying. He does set up the plan of baiting the jocks to the cemetery at dawn. But he's actually planning to knock them out and do some crazy embarrassing stuff with them, the kind of immature terror that only Young men can conceive of and inflict on one another.

Chloroform is involved. Dante packs his gun for safety. He's not a demon Hunter yet, but he knows what's out there, and there's no way he's walking into a cemetery without one weapon at least.

So, the jocks were probably going to wake up naked and tied up on a monument in the Town square or a landmark for everyone to see. It might even make the papers, since this town is so small. Dante would fleece them for their money, and encourage the reader to do the same.

"Hey, how about we divvy it up? One for you, one for me. One for you, and one, two for me- Ow! Fine, whatever, take what you want!"

But what was meant to be a life ruining prank goes horribly wrong. They got Ram, but Kurt's streaking through the graveyard in his skivvies.

Dante sprints after him. "Don't worry, I'll get him back!"

Funny. Kurt should be here. Dante knows how fast a human can run. He checks behind the tombstones, but the jock simply isn't here. Like he just disappeared.

There's a shift in the air. Dante stands still. Even for a cemetery, it's too quiet. Not peaceful. Tents. Restless. Dante's just trotting back when he knows. The reader feels something, too, that pricking in the hind brain that sets the hairs standing. Dante flicks back the red tails of his duster and pulls out his gun.

Reader: "Woah! Are those guns real?!"

Dante flexes his bicep: "'Course they are, babe!"

Reader: "No! I mean th-!"

Bang! A murder of crows take to the air. The only thing more unnerving than the mist and the gunshot is the cold hard gleam in Dante's eye.

And something in the tombstones growls.

Basically, there's probably some small hellgate in the area. Weak demons are leaking through.

The plot turns away from Heather's and fake suicides and mental illness into an '80s horror slasher flick in which Dante and the reader survive and work together to break the hell gate. Dante's dad might end up dead in the process, not by his hands but just because. Alternatively, Dante decides that he's turning 18 in a couple of months and soon the law won't be able to chase after him. He doesn't know what he's going to do with his life, but he sure as hell isn't letting big blood Dean drag him anywhere anymore.

Either way, it's implied that Dante finds his calling through this story.

And becomes a demon hunter.

Demons might have been possessing people or killing people and making it look like suicides so they can drain the humans of their blood when they're brought to the morgue. A bunch of lesser demons serving a relatively stronger demon.

It serves a similar effect as the sensationalization of fake suicides in the musical's plot. Only now the reader forged the suicide notes and set up the fake suicides in order to protect them both. There's no way the law was going to buy the truth.

The reader still has to deal with Heather duke, Heather mcnamara, the horrors of the hierarchy of the high school. They deal with Miss Fleming and the assembly. Is Heather McNamara from actually committing suicide, but then there's still a demon attack that they have to somehow protect both of them from. And this is taking place in the '80s, so there are no cell phones and the landline is cut.

The hellgate was dormant under the boiler room in the high school.

If Dante got possessed, we could still have some Dead Girl Walking (Reprise) and the reader shoots him but it's Dante so he survives!

Whatever was possessing him was nowhere near as good at fighting as a human.

Cherry flavored slushies. Dante drinks cherry flavored slushies, and when he sings I thought emotional part where he accidentally reveals thoughts of suicide, he tries to brush it off with humor, as always.

Still our favorite chaotic half demon.

Cherry flavored slurpees and pizza and teenage detective work that dpuble as dates. Dante doesn't give a s*** and just wants to be pointed in the direction of the fight. The reader is actually doing research and carefully trying to piece together what is going on. Dante provides whatever he knows on demons. And hell.

Dante: "Yeah, my dad is the legendary demon Sparda. My mom and brother died in a demon attack on our house and that's why I'm in foster care."

Reader: "Okay... Sounds fake, but okay..."

Dante gets shot right in the chest. Reader freaks out, but still manages to blow up the hell gate with a bomb and thermals. To collapse the whole gymnasium, which is empty.

They crawl out of the dust. Shaking, a lot to process all at once.

Then there's a whistle. And impressed whistle. The reader looks up. It's Dante, standing strong and straight and waving at dust like he's not squirting blood out of the hole in his chest. "Now, that was some fireworks! Remind me to invite you to my next birthday party."

And that was when the reader believed that he was actually half demon.

Plot twist a faculty member opened the hell gate and it's Miss Fleming the hippie.

I wanted to feel more 80s than it sounds here, and other than that that's all I've got.

Edit 8/20/21

The reader wears the blue Heathers uniform. Short grey skirt and all.

Or if you don't like skirts, then trousers. Tight, flattering trousers. Dante loves to watch how they pull in all the right places.

The two of you are hanging out upstairs in his room, talking about the deaths. The read is worried, fretting over the mystery, flipping through pages in their notebook; Dante sprawls next to them, half hanging off the bed, head in their lap, yawning. The front door opens and bangs shut. Dante springs out of his seat. Suddenly, he wants to get out if the house.

"Hey, do you want some ice cream? Dairy Queen, strawberry sundae, you and me. C'mon!"

Big Blood Dean stomps upstairs. "Dante! Get yer worthless ass in gear! We gotta a job, you gotta go on a supply run-"

Dean barges right on in. Looks at Dante. Looks at the reader. "You got company."

"S'there a problem?" Dante sounds cool. Too cool. He's on his feet and wandering about the room, like he's bored. The reader tenses. Dean is huge, but he somehow looms beyond his size.

Dante does his careless waltz. The reader can't take their eyes off Dean. Like a frightened animal. How can Dante expose his back like that?!

But by getting up, he's put himself between you and his adoptive parent.

"Get rid of them," orders Dean.

Shrugging, Dante pats your knee. "Alright, c'mon, babe." He leads you by the elbow to the window. You still keep an eye on Dean. He's glaring.

Dante throws open the window and bows. "After you!"

"Um, the front door is...?"

He's not serious.

"Go on!"

He's serious.

Hesitant, you stick a leg through and let him push you the rest of the way out. Then he slips out, too

"You come back here, boy-!"

"See ya, old man!" Dante slams the window shut.

"Is he going to lock you out?" You ask as you shimmy down the drain pipe.

"He can't. You broke my window lock."

Dante buys two Sundaes because he doesn't want to share; after he polishes off his, he's snatching bites of yours.

He used the "Nevada account."

(Update 9-20-21)

And this whole story would be even better with JD!Virgil instead.

Virgil didn't have time yet to harden from the demon attack before Big Blood Dean adopted him.

This is all much the same as with JD!Dante, except that Virgil gets darker (not that Veronica!Reader knows how bad it is; they didn't accidentally murder Heather together) carries a gun and everything.

In the big final fight, Virgil runs out of ammo. Demons have cornered him. It's the house, his Mom, Dante, all over again.

One blink later, the demons are all dead, slashed open. Virgil shakes as he yanks on the handle in his grip, and pulls out the blade from a soft belly.

Yamato. How did it get here? These demons are unrecognizable, like dead carrion at a butchers. Did I do this? He thinks, distant and fuzzy, as he watches his hands like watching a film as they flip his sword.

Humans are weak. Humans are wretched.

The reader's smile passes through his mind.

... Perhaps not all humans are... Deserving of death.

They're just weak. Virgil flicks gore off the sword, and heads to his house, looking for Big Blood Dean.

He didn't like the way Dean had scared you with the "Norwegian in the Boiler Room" talk, anyway.

(Spoilers: Dean doesn't live. And Virgil loves you, but this was mostly for him. It's the tipping point, and afterwards he chooses his demonic heritage over humanity. But less "kill them all" and more "purge those who dare cross our path- but don't tell Reader, they get upset easily." What they don't know can't hurt them- and you have Virgil to thank.)

You two definitely run away together at the end. Off to explore knowledge of demons and Hell and whatever else.

You want to seal off the Hellgates that are being all over the world.

Virgil wants to level-grind.

It's couples-time, really.

[bravo-four-seal-team]

One Unit, One Life.

Co-Written Series with @disasterfandoms​

 Tags: @galaxysanduniversesinmymind​  @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @mrsmarvelous1995 @disasterfandoms @jasonbabymama @velvetcardiganbucky @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @pinkrockstar19 @softi92 @thelovelyleo23 @itsonautopilot @supervalcsi@abby-splace​ @theysayitscrazy​

Part Two 

Trigger Warning: Injuries, swearing, blood, attacks. 

It's never easy, war is never easy. But yet here they were, after an HVT known for selling weapons. The op was aided by Marines, which allowed more cover, only thing Trent and Metal both had an issue with? Ashley had failed to mention it was the unit she worked with, helping them. While she was level-headed in the field, cracking jokes, making smartass comments at people, Trent never wanted to have to treat her for an injury. Things went south quickly though, from no combatants to multiple coming from all sides, Marine Unit firing back, providing the SEALs time to get what they needed. Ammo began running low, Trent patched up Clay the best he could.

"Grenade!" Clay shouted diving to the ground, knocking Trent down with him, Ashley didn't think, she just reacted, throwing herself at the device, taking the majority of the blast. 

“HAVOC it’s gone! Goat Rope out here!” Ray called over the comms, firing soon ceased, they weren’t sure if it was because the enemies were reloading.

Trent hadn't registered who it was, after a few blasts, from other grenades thrown, things calmed and fell silent, teams shouting for a sound off, Metal moving towards Trent and Clay “Shoulder is out of place” Clay informed Metal, who frowned “Pop it back in” Trent hissed, looking around, Metal and Clay shared a look, but did so, other people were checking on each other when he noticed the Marine Medic just standing “Clarkes! Move your ass and help!” he yelled but he didn’t get a response. 

“Sitrep!” Jason called out, as people reported how much ammo they had left. “Man down!” Clay shouted, moving to where the marine lay. Clay had moved towards the form, carefully checking for a pulse "Got a pulse but it's weak!" he called out, then rolled them on their back, sucking in a breath "Oh fuck" he muttered seeing the injuries, Trent frowned "Come on, open your eyes" he muttered snapping the smelling salt to activate it, holding it under her nose “Clay gonna need you to be my hands!” Trent stated, still not receiving a response from the injured, as the younger man moved forward, taking Trent's medical bag. 

“Clarkes! Hey! You need to get to work!” someone shouted at the Marine medic who remained to stare unmoving from his spot, he never moved, it was like he had decided to bail out of his own body. Bravos medic glared at him, then his gaze, focusing on instructing Clay on what to do.

"How bad" Gunnery Sergeant Cole asked.

 "Gonna need a CASEVAC." Trent states. 

"Oh fuck" came from Metal, Alphas master chief staring at the bloodied form "pass me the bag of O neg, it's a universal donor," Clay muttered. 

"Bravo 4, I'd prefer our medic to work on my guy" Cole said. 

"Not happening, he hasn’t reacted, Clay, give her the blood, shit, apply pressure to the wound at her neck and pack it” he stated. 

“Gunnery Sergeant Cole, I’ve alerted base to our situation, but... the last er last time something happened she didn’t have next of kin listed” One of the rookies whispered "I'm aware of that private” the tut that came from Trent as he worked went unnoticed.

"Trent," Jason said "CASEVAC is 5 mikes out," he said about to continue speaking when Trent spoke up "Not fast enough, she's bleeding internally and externally, sounds like she has a collapsed lung on the left side, pupils are active but respond sluggishly" 

"Head trauma?"  Jason asked

"Possibly, can’t remove her helmet, too risky" 

It was hell, multiple wounds needing packed, it came down to him to keep her alive “The hell was she thinking doing that” Ray asked from his watchpoint, Clay snorted “She probably wasn’t Marines are paid to act not think” Sonny muttered, Clay focusing on getting a saline line running. 

“Shut up” Trent snapped “If all you are going to do is complain go somewhere else, this isn’t the time for jokes” he muttered, using the scissors to cutting the material away from her side “Fuck, Clay, focus here” he muttered. The left side was coated in blood, it wouldn’t stop flowing, the lower abdomen was torn up from the blast she took. “Pack the wound and prepare for CASEVAC.” Trent said to Clay, who moved round to do so. 

“Trent, she’s stopped breathing”

“You need to intubate”  

“Craig, what do you think?” Cole asked, pulling the medic to the side, “You think she’s gonna make it?”

“Quite frankly. No. She might survive to base, but the injuries? What is he trying to treat? They aren’t gonna be ones to bounce back from” he said, looking back over, watching as Trent tried to stop the bleeding. “Why are you asking him?! He doesn’t know jackshit, he’s just stood there, don’t even think about taking over, she’s my patient” Trent warned. 

“Can’t get it in” Clay said, “Trent, gonna need you to intubate” he stated, handing over the equipment to their medic, who moved quickly, being careful, watching what he did, soon “I’m in” was heard “I’ll start bagging” Trent stated, moving to do his job “No pulse” he told Clay who moved quickly “beginning compressions” he informed them. 

“Havoc this is Bravo 2,” Ray said “Good Copy Bravo 2” Blackburn responded as Ray filled in TOC on the situation to relay to the casevac, as he helped Trent “Trent, I got it, for now, take a second,” their 2nd in command said.

“Can’t, I have experience with these types of wounds, she’s gonna need me” Trent said, blood coating the glove as he held pressure on the neck wound. “CASEVAC inbound” Sonny called from his spot.  

From that moment forward everything moved quickly, both Jason and Metal ordering Trent to go with Ashley and be checked out, then it became a matter of counting minutes, watching the medics work on his sister, he had to focus, keep calm, he needed to shut down any panic or thoughts, right now, in front of him was just another sailor. Who needed to survive. 

The second they landed on base, everything just went fast, he never saw where they took her. He was checked over, then sent to quarters, by the time sunrise came, the team was back with mission success. 

“Trent” Metal said, as he approached, looking at him, Trent knew what he wanted to know “They flew her out, they can’t treat the wounds here, they’ve sent her back stateside...I called Amelia to let her know what happened” Metal nodded listening to Trent, other members of Bravo approaching, followed by the Unit Ashley worked with, Trent got up, moving forwards grabbing their team medic “The hell were you thinking!?” he snapped “Freezing like that, it kills people!” 

"Now hang on!" Clarke snapped, shoving Trent's hands off his tactical vest "You shouldn't have been Messing with the injured! They are my responsibility!" he growled, both SEALs and Marines coming to a stop and turning to watch the two. 

"You would have killed them! The fuck is the matter with you!?"

"You're a SEAL, your priority is dealing with injuries on your team! Mine is to deal with those who will survive! You were working on someone who won't survive!" It wasn’t a secret that Cole and Clarkes disliked having any woman on their team, so finding an excuse to get them moved was always a go-to, or they would class them as their property, depending on how the females of the team were. 

"Are you stupid?! Your teammate would have died if I had waited on you to work! You're a piss poor excuse of a medic! You work on anyone no matter what team they are on!" Trent stated, Sonny and Clay grabbing Trent and pulling him back. 

"Bravo Four, get yourself under control" Cole snapped, the look Jason shot at him would be enough to stop anyone saying a word, but Cole didn't care as he continued "I don't see what your issue is about how my men acted. Or why you're pissed at Clarke. He's already said she won't survive" 

"Not like she has a family" Another person laughed, as they headed off to put their gear away. Missing the look Metal and Trent gave them. 

"Trent, go cool off" Jason ordered, watching their medic walk away. The rest of Bravo stood watching, not sure how to react. They still had two days before they could fly out home. 

Metal frowned “I would let him continue to chew him out” he stated, following the others to the equipment room “Can you believe they would just let her die there?” Clay said, frowning “the hell kind of people are they to do that” 

Metal was sorting out his equipment “Gonna need to report it, can’t have someone like him out there with us if he's gonna freeze” he stated, Ray nodding “I agree, we’ll say to Blackburn” 

It wasn’t long before everyone was going to either get food, get drinks or go get some sleep, Trent was sending messages to Amelia to let her know everyone was back unharmed. But to keep them updated on Ashley when she got brought in.

---

Stateside, Location: St Samuels Hospital

Nurses were rushing to help doctors prepare for the incoming injured Marine. 

The O.R being alerted, specialists being filled in about the condition of the patient. 

The plane was 4 hours out, medics in the air alerting them to any changes when Amelia came in. 

"Nurse Carter, I don't recommend you being here" one of the doctors stated, the people who worked with Amelia knew Trent, Metal, and Ashley, the minute they had got the name they didn't want their friend/colleague to be there. 

"Not going anywhere," Amelia said. 

No one sat still, which made the time pass a little quicker. Doors opening and a gurney being pushed through, someone was shouting out the patient's status. Ashley still hadn’t regained consciousness.   “Patients name is Ashley Sawyer, age 29, injuries to the left side, possible head injury, has yet to regain consciousness, allergic to morphine and co-codamol, blood type is O+” the medics informed the Doctors and nurses who would be taking over care. “Heart stopped for a minute, in field, intubation was in field”  Amelia watched as her friend, was wheeled through the double doors, she was to close to this one to work and help, but she would be there until Ashley woke up.

----

“Gentlemen, get some shut-eye, we’re in the process of getting tomorrow's mission greenlit” Blackburn informed Bravo “Best to rest up now. Trent, a word,” he says, as others move off to go sleep, Jason and Ray looking back at their teammate, seeing Metal hanging back to wait on Trent. 

“We got word that the Marine you treated has arrived stateside” Blackburn informs. 

“Thanks for letting me know” Trent sighed, Blackburn raised an eyebrow “doesn’t take a genius to figure out that marine is related to you,” he stated before leaving.

[moonprincemulti]

You Are Always Mine - Chapter 8

- 17 July 2021

- eighth chapter of a series (YAAM)

- catboy/shapeshifter hyunjin x music producer chan

- top chan x bottom hyunjin

----------

Chan awoke slowly, being in a feverish state. He tried to find out what was the last thing he could remember, but the harsh lights above him brought him back to reality really quick. His eyesight was somewhat blurry, and he felt like every sense was getting in way too much information. He turned his head, looking around for the one person he could think of. Hyunjin. The younger male was right there, still in the same spot as before, his eyes closed as he had no choice but to give in to their current fate. Chan took a small breath in order to speak, whispering the male's name. Hyunjin's eyes shot open, his head turning towards the older. "Chan! Chan are you okay? Are you in pain?" Hyunjin was relieved the older was awake again, having been nervous for a side effect from the hybrid dna. He had seen others die because of the first injection of the dna, as their immune system was too weak or their body seemed to reject the dna, causing a complete shutdown of all muscles, even the heart. Hyunjin struggled against his restraints, wanting to comfort Chan. "Answer me, are you in pain?" Chan shook his head slightly, not being in pain. He felt terrible though, and he wished he could sleep it off, but he knew that wouldn't be the case. "No, I'm not. I just feel horrible. Feverish.. all of my senses are.. ah.. it feels like everything is ten times bigger, louder, harder.." Hyunjin hummed and sighed. "I know.. your senses are adjusting to whatever dna they gave you. I'm sorry, really sorry. This shouldn't have happened to you."

Chan took a deep breath and looked at Hyunjin, smiling gently at him. "I'm glad you're alive. You don't want to know how many times I have grieved your disappearance.." Hyunjin pouted slightly. "I know how much you missed me. I've seen you cry before. I.. I'm sorry that I couldn't remember all of this earlier." Chan closed his eyes, already being tired from just talking and listening. "Is this.. is this what you felt like too? How many times.. did they do this to you? You must've been in so much pain.." Chan couldn't imagine how much poking and prodding Hyunjin must've endured during his years in this lab. Hyunjin bit his lip as he thought back to his time here, having flashbacks of painful procedures and strange tests he had to do. "They've done too much to me. That's why I feel so bad for you now.. I don't want you to go through the same thing." Hyunjin struggled against his restraints one more time, but he knew fighting was useles. The door of the room then swung open with a loud creak, Chan flinching as it sounded like metal scraping right next to his ear, his sense of hearing having been heightened. The doctor smirked as he saw Chan's current state. "You haven't died, good. How're you feeling, hm?" The doctor checked Chan's heartbeat and breathing, humming contently as he knew Chan's body was taking in the dna well. "You'll become a wonderful hybrid. Just stay strong, okay? I'm sure Hyunjin can tell you all about the pain that is waiting for you." Chan balled his fist and glared at the doctor. "You are a psycopath. I never gave consent to this." "You don't have to. You're our lab experiment now. Your human rights went away the moment we gave you that first injection of dna." ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶ A few days after Felix and Minho had reported their two missing friends, the police was busy preparing a raid of the laboratorium. Other previous lab experiments had escaped and slowly uncovered a big part of the secret operations of the doctors there, and the police wanted to take the whole organization down. Felix and Minho had been invited to be a part of the raid, as the police wanted them to find Chan and Hyunjin since they were the only ones that knew what the two males looked like. On top of that, Chan was the only person that had been taken without a good coverup, making Chan the perfect case to arrest the doctors for abduction and mutilation. Felix was pretty nervous as the police instructed them on what the raid was going to look like, while Minho just looked around with big eyes. Guns, ammo, weapons of multiple sorts and bulletproof vests were being handed out to the police officers, and Minho felt like he was in the middle of an action movie. As the head of the raid finished his explanation, Felix and Minho got handed bulletproof vests to ensure their safety during the raid. Felix gasped as he felt the weight of it, wondering if he was even able to carry it around the whole day. "It's so heavy.." Minho chuckled and put his own down, helping Felix to put the vest on. "You'll get used to it quickly. And if you get sore shoulders after all of this, I'll treat you to a massage." Felix smiled and looked at Minho. "I'll make sure you keep that promise." Minho hummed and put on his own vest once Felix's was on. "Sure, lixie." The head of police ordered everyone to take place in the guarded vehicles, ready to depart. The whole convoy of police vehicles raced through the city, but kept their lights and sirens off so not to let the doctors at the laboratory know that they were coming. Felix felt his anxiety increase as they came closer and closer to the lab, all sorts of thoughts running through his head about what could've happend to Chan and Hyun. What state would they be in when they found them? Could they be.. Felix was pulled from his thoughts as Minho placed a hand on his thigh. "Calm down. Let's not think ahead of what we might find and be grateful that we atleast get to join this raid. We can tell others we played a role in saving our friends." Felix nodded slightly and placed his hand over Minho's. "You're right." Minho and Felix smiled at eachother, holding hands the whole way there. As the convoy stopped in front of the lab buildings, the policemen got out of the vehicles, just as they were trained to do. Minho and Felix followed instructions they got from the policeman that was guiding them, making sure they wouldn't get in the way of the plan. As the head of the raid was busy breaking into the laboratory, they could hear a siren going off inside of the building. A warning sign for everybody inside. Luckily, police had surrounded the buildings and checked for any exits further from the buildings, so anybody who tried to escape, would walk right into the arms of the police. Minho watched the policemen do their job, the front door of the lab crashing open, walking inside to start doing what needed to be done. ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶ As the siren went off, Chan was about to get injected with a second dose of dna. They had been in the lab for a more than a week now, and while Hyunjin was pulled away for testing and 'cleaning of information of the outside world', Chan was being experimented on just like any other victim in the lab. Chan had been in pain the whole time, as either his senses were overloaded, or the experiments they did with him caused his body to ache. Chan had no chance to fight back, as they were intentionally kept weak and chained up, only having eaten a few hundred grams of food over the course of the time they had been in the lab. He had only seen Hyunjin a few times, just to be tortured by the doctors as they treated Hyunjin in such a way that it made Chan beg them to stop, tears streaming down his cheeks. Chan had already thought about wanting to give up on live several times throughout their stay, and he couldn't imagine how Hyunjin survived years in this place. Now, the siren rang through his whole body as his sense of hearing was highly sensitive, and the doctor that was holding onto him let go in surprise. "No, no, not an evacuation." The doctor quickly put the injection needle away, cleaning up his stuff in an attempt to cover up their illegal deeds. Chan wondered what was happening, because an evacuation could mean several things. Either there was a fire, or they were attacked by something.. or someone. Chan bit his lip, kind of grateful that the siren had stopped the process of getting more dna, hoping it would help even more than just that. Every employee of the lab was frantically trying to hide either experiments, victims or equipment that would be an obvious sign of illegal activities. The police infiltrated the building more and more, arresting doctor after doctor and rescueing every person, or animal, that they could find. Minho and Felix looked around in astonishment as they were lead through the lab, seeing the filthy conditions and horrible surroundings that these people had been living in. Felix held onto Minho's hand tightly, Minho getting more worried about what Chan and Hyun must've endured in their time here. Then, as the front of their group had broken into another room, a figure ran down the hallway towards them. Coming closer, Felix immediately recognized it. "Hyun!" Felix let go of Minho, walking towards the taller male. Hyunjin had been able to fight against the employees that were transferring him, and had escaped and ran towards the nearest exit. As he saw the policemen and his two friends, he picked up his pace. He ran into Felix's arms, trembling with fear but also sighing of relief. Felix held onto Hyunjin tightly, bringing him into the safety of their group before studying him to see if he was hurt. Hyunjin was littered with bruises and small cuts, but it seemed like that was all. Hyunjin looked at them with curiosity, wondering how they had gotten into the lab. "How? Why? Are.. are we safe? Have you found Chan yet?" Minho shook his head. "Not yet. This is a raid Hyun, the police have forcefully entered the building and are arresting every doctor right now and saving all the victims." Hyunjin nodded and took a deep breath. "We have to find Chan. Please, he's in a lot of pain." Minho nodded. "We will. Come on, let's-" A gunshot. Loud and clear. The sound echoed through the hallway, as suddenly everybody had gone quiet. Hyunjin had made himself small on the ground, holding onto Felix's legs. Minho looked at the man at the end of the hallway. The doctor that had 'treated' Hyunjin and Chan was standing there. Gun in hand, unconscious Chan at his feet. Minho balled his fists, as the gunshot had only been a warning shot, but he knew the doctor meant business. The policemen of their group all pointed their guns at the doctor, who smirked evilly. "You won't get to this boy without a fight. You'll have to take him from me with violence and I can't promise it'll be without blood being spilled."

[reddogf13]

Scarlet marks ch5

Pennywise x Beverly

summery: who knew she would end up here? Beverly, having started her work in fashion as a young bright secretary under the older tom Rogan. now forced to sexually serve slimy old politicians under toms vicious grip for power and money. forced into following toms political flock to Derry. she runs into a familiar face, wearing a silver clown suit, out on a special hunt. (mainly smut

status: In progress

rated: M - fowl language, gore, and sex scenes ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

previous chap: Scarlet marks ch 4

next chap:  TBA

_____________________________________

~ch:5 Twisted confession~

“Grey! Grey put him down! Stop!” Beverly repeated as she pulled on his arm, unable to budge his tall figure.

He let out a deep growling snarl before dropping Tom to the floor. Beverly taking the chance to separate the two. Leaving grey standing on the porch as she half dragged the coughing Tom into the living room.

“tom, let me go with him for tonight.” she whispered to him, getting in all she could before he would regain his breath and tell her to shut up. “we need the money right? I can get enough from him to last us a while. We can also use it for another business party. Let me go for tonight.”

his breath having been caught up, he glared at her before speaking roughly. “fine. Drain the bastard for all you can. Tomorrow I am calling in a favor to get him out of my town!”

she nodded with a sigh of relief. Rushing off to meet grey on the porch to close the front door and rush him down the steps away from the house. “you shouldn't have done that!” scolding him along the way.

“why not?!” he questioned. “you shouldn't have even stopped me. Why have him stay alive?”

“because I need him to take care of me!”

“HA! He hardly does that!”

“better then nothing and being left for dead on the street. I don't have anyone else in my life!” she heard him huff behind her on their way to his car. She assumed it was from out of annoyance that she didn't let him eat tom. Their talk going silent to heavy rain fall having them rush into the car. Beverly brushing her hair out of her face and straightening the wet locks the best she could to look somewhat nice after being drenched.

The drive was short to a lovely restaurant where they sat at a table warmed by a nearby fireplace. Their night starting with a nice wine and simple starter a large charcuterie board to share. She took most the fruit and cheeses while he ate the meats.

“why wont you leave Tom?” he interrupted the relaxed mood between them.

She closed her eyes to gain some mental energy for the argument ahead. Swallowing the current bite of food she had chewed through. “like I said, he takes care of me. I cant just up an leave either.” wanting the conversation to end there.

“why?”

“what do you mean why?”

“i can take care of you.”

his statement had her letting out a awkward chuckle. Dropping the smile on her face at seeing how serious his was. Staring at her unblinking in an expression of confusion mixed agitation. “... what about when you get bored?”

“what?”

“what happens when you get bored of me?” repeating her question. “What if I get too tired to do what you want? what happens if you find another girl you like more?” she continued. “When what you want changes, what will happen to me?” taking a sip of wine. “this is all thrilling … for now, but what about when a month passes? Or three? This isn't the first time I've had promise's of “being taken care of” by someone other then tom. You'll move on to do something else and I'll still have Tom. That's how my work goes, that's my life and nothing changes.” shrugging it all off to continue eating.

He didn't say much else after that, however his actions were speaking louder. Flooding the table with fancy orders that Beverly wasn't sure to do with. She ate from a few of the dishes as he kept up that locked on stare with a wide smile. Her eating slowed as her discomfort grew. She thought on why he was doing it. “hoping I'll runaway with him or showing off?” not thinking too long on it.

Full of good food they left together with another bottle of wine. Rushing back to the car through the lightly pouring rain. Beverly taking time to straighten out her hair again in the car. He turned to her with a smile “love the dinner? Want to go relax somewhere else before returning to the wagon?”

“sure, but where?”

“the peak, park up there and enjoy the view with our other bottle of wine.”

“heh, sure, clown.” chuckling in doubt that they were going there to enjoy the view. Relaxing the whole drive up to the lonely parking lot topping a steep hill. Looking out to the lights of Derry shining through the falling rain tapping along the car. The ferris wheel still spinning brightly as it wasn't yet time for the fair to close. Grey giving her a glass to pour the freshly opened bottle of wine into. Sipping their glasses in relaxing in the car. Both deciding to sit closer in the back seat wrapped closely together in greys jacket for warmth.

“so why was Tom in such a snippity mood today? If I offer high enough he just accepts my offer.” sipping on some wine. “Someone cancel today?”

“the political hunting trip took a nose dive when a bear came along.”

“oooh, sucks for them.” he snickered.

She thought to herself. “what extreme bad luck.” all those men taken out by one bear. “left food around and didn't see the bear coming?” she wondered. “they don't tend to walk without younger help though. They must get tired hoisting their guns and ammo around the forest.” taking a sip of wine. “my costumers seem to always have the worst bad luck. All disappeared over time after I arrived. Pennywise killed that one group a week ago. Now this group was eaten by-” her mind linking together that these events may not have such different circumstances.

Peeking at grey pouring the last bit of wine in his glass down into his wide open mouth. “no, couldn't be him the whole time.” she thought. “he started visiting me a while after my flow of customers slowed.” but his words from when they first started meeting came forth. “he'd been scanning the streets for a while. And only seriously as of recent.” but why? Her mind brought up. “because I arrived?” sipping some wine in thought.

“grey.” she spoke his name to catch his attention. “how long did you know I was working the streets?”

he swallowed down his mouthful of wine. “about as long as you've been here. I see practically everything, including all the ones you've served.” he gloated with mild aggression at the mention of past men being with her.

“you watched me work and got interested yourself?”

“oh yes, I couldn't pass up the opportunity.”

“must have been hard with how full my schedule was.”

“ah, wasn't too hard. Your schedule opens up … eventually. … they'll stop coming. … eventually.” his words starting strong then turning to a dying mumble. Turning his attention away from her to pouring another glass.

“that's not entirely true. Tom will always have friends to schedule at the house for me.”

“like who?” pausing his glass of Chardonnay at his lips.

Beverly didn't say immediately any names. “he has a huge book of contacts somewhere. Probably endless.” she tossed out. Going over how earlier today he subtly asked who was vising. She gave the groups specific names and what they were doing that day. Right before he left and the group died shortly after.

He laughed. “oh, with how old all his buddy's are they'll pass soon enough. Accidents happen all the time.” resuming his drinking from the glass.

“i guess.” she replied. Thinking over how it all seemed too strange to be just accidents. Had he been killing since she first got into Derry? Why? To have her 24/7? did he really want her that much? To pluck everyone off to make it so he was the only one? “surely that wouldn't work. He wouldn't make a plan like that. Too much work for me to be available for a few hours.” she thought as she drank her lovely wine. Glancing at him drinking his every now and again.

Looking between the lights and high above highlighted rainclouds from their seats. The quiet time again bringing to mind the circumstances between her, Pennywise, and her dwindling customers.

“you remember those men you ate a week ago? Were they the first you killed to keep away from me?”

“yes, why?”

“did you kill those hunters? It wasn't a bear, was it?”

“what, no?!” denying the accusation.

“a bear couldn't kill ALL of them. They each probably had a gun to shoot it. At least the bear would have been found dead to.”

“they're scrawny old men who need canes. They would have been a free meal to anything in the woods.”

“awfully convenient for them to be eaten. Same as that one business meeting being canceled when one suddenly crashed their car. Or all the ones before who went missing eventually.”

he huffed. “your overthinking it all. They're old and dying. As for everyone else, maybe they just ran out of money.”

“i don't think your being honest. You killed them all to free up time with me? Don't tell me I am overthinking it. Why do all of it?! I don't need you brushing me off, acting like Tom.”

something inside of him snapped at the accusation of treating her like Tom. He pinned her to the back seat and loomed over. Disguise shedding to reveal his silver suit and clown looks. Getting extremely close to speak at the side of her face, into her neck. “fine, you want to know why?” he began.

“You had all those males coming for you, getting in my way. Yes, I got rid of them all. Those when you first came, that crashed car, those dumb partyers and hunters. One by one so that only I could have you. And I'll keep doing it, even if I have to kill every male in Derry if I have to.”  his confession freezing Beverly in place. Grin stretching full of sharp teeth. “I stopped hunting children because, for a while I've been doing a different kind of chase. I've been looking for a mate and I chose you.” her Skin chilling as her face warmed from a strong blush. Speechless as she felt like she was floating in air.

“me?” was all her mind could bring forth. His hands squeezing her shoulders grounding her again to keep listening to his confession.

“the only one getting in my way is that thorn in my side, Tom.” the growl he let out vibrating through her chest. “you keep choosing that male over me when I've been giving so much more. You say you want to stay with him, but I know better.” taking a deep inhale at her neck, he continued speaking. “All those rounds together to break you away from that spineless fool to become mine. your body's accepted me already, I can always smell it on you, The heated lust for me to bed you.  I can even smell it on you now.” he growled deeply.

Flustering her to heavily swallow from nerves. Burning a bright red that had her face feel on fire until the cool touch of his hands brushed her face. “does my female want me to knot her down right here?”  he breathed hotly at her neck. That sweet smell flowing off him to intoxicate her body. Heightening her want of him to take over already.

She shifted her hips against his with a quick nod. “yes.” she quietly spoke out. Permanently quieted with a deep kiss backing her into the seat. Giving into him stripping them both down in seconds. His hips pinning hers back with each firm thrust. His arms crossing past her head to claw into the leather. Growling and drooling excitedly over the pleasure coming over them. Slipping out for a moment to change positions. Flipping her down into the seat before thrusting back into her. Her legs already quivering under the pleasuring thrusts he wildly gave her. Biting into her neck and shoulders to leave more reddening marks.

She whimpered and moaned out as the towering male above thrusted her down. Clawed hands gripping her shoulders to press his weight down. His thumbs rubbing deeply into her shoulder blades for minor relief from what little pain he was causing. Holding her steady for each firm thrust sliding himself deeper. She could feel his length twitching and squirming the whole way to its goal. Beverly could hardly open her eyes under it all. Submitting to his domination of fully claiming her again like he did not long ago.

He didn't take long to ensure his knot was locked deep down into her. Not lessening his pace between the loads he spilled. Her hand gripping into the seat they were spread out upon. Not wanting him to ever stop, to keep going as long as he wanted until he filled every part of her. Struggling underneath his grip to rile him up further. His hands gliding down to wrap his arms around her waist. She rose up to shiver in her new position on hands and knees. Legs feeling like jello as her body threatened to collapse under the reoccurring waves stunning her body.

She kept wanting to say something, but the words could never escape her. Breathing in his sweet scent or moaning out in shivers. Almost collapsing again by him filling her with his hot seed. She wanted more from him with the words finally able to come out. “m-more, I want more.” skin prickling at the base of her neck from his hot breath.

“I'll give you a lot more.” letting out that deep guttural purr that had her collapsing back down off the heavy vibration. Losing her voice below him to non stop moaning through the hours he kept up the joyful ride. When he stopped she tiredly looked up to him, exhausted after so many hours but wanting far more.

He grinned down to her and helped her up. “lets get back to the wagon. Lot more comfortable there then in a back seat.” causing her confusion on how exactly he was going to drive with them stuck together. He got most their upper ware on to move them both to the front seat. Buckling them together with her stuck on his lap for the drive. He needed to wipe the window clear the steam they caused was so thick.

Beverly thought it was both hilarious and thrilling to drive this way. Hopefully a cop wouldn't pull them over before reaching the wagon. Getting in and out of the car was a small mission in itself. Soon as the door closed behind them it was right back to what they were doing earlier. Across every furniture he could steady her on before making it to where the bed was.

Biting to marking across her in his wild claiming of her on the bed. Him taking full control as Beverly relaxed for him to do so. When she felt his cum spilling over to flow down her thighs did she feel satisfied in gaining enough. Knowing her body was ready for sleep he lessened his motions to nest them both down into the bed. Resting over her to lick at the scratches he caused. Calming Beverly into a blissful sleep for the night.

The next morning she woke without him sleeping over her. Gazing around she found him not too far, standing naked cooking something at the stove. “morning.” she yawned with a stretch, hissing at her sore muscles protesting.

“morning. I am making us a nice hearty soup.” he smiled.

“sounds nice.” she smiled back. Blushing at feeling the apparent sticky slickness coating her legs.

“he-heh, want a bath before breakfast to get all that off you?” teasing her.

“yeah, but I'll need help to the bathroom.” holding out her arms as he came over to help.

Carrying her to a nice hot bath covered by rose petals. “I'll come back after I fix up the bed.” leaving her to relax in the bath.

Alone she lathered up with some flowery scented soaps. Thinking back to all that happened last night. His confession of killing every male that planned to be with her. Destroying all of toms connections and that the only reason tom's really alive is because shes been choosing him. Somewhat glad, but also disappointed that pen was holding back on toppling Tom because of her. “do I want him to?” she thought in questioning herself. He was leaving the choice, to join him, to her but would she rather he just kill Tom despite her protests?

“does he really want me?” was her next thought. “tom started the same. All the gifts, fancy dates, then when he finally had me-” sickened at the thought. “maybe its best I stick to Tom.” thought process broken when Pennywise entered to help her from the tub. Getting her dried and wrapped into a towel.

“muscles feel any better?” giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

Joking with a return kiss. “yeah, I can probably pick up a spoon without an arm cramp.” hugging his shoulders as he carried her to bed. Settling back on the fresh clean bedding he changed. Watching the lovely view of his shifting muscles from him walking back to the cooking food on the stove. Shifting in stirring the hot food on the nearby stove. A tempting idea filling her mind to call him over. “pen, come here for a sec.”

[thewalkingdead-fan101]

In This Hell Daryl Dixon X Reader Part 5/??

Hey everyone! Part 5 is now here! I hope you all like it :)  Thank you all for the support! Warnings- General walking dead stuff, Gore, descriptions of blood, Swearing, death. 

After another sleepless night, I found myself being the first of our group to wake up. I walked out of the front door and onto the porch, making sure that the door closed softly behind me. Pulling the sleeves of my sweater down over my hands, I crossed my arms over my chest, looking over the grassy field. I could feel the warmth of the sun slowly creep onto my face as the night faded away, leaving the pink and orange hues of the breathtaking sunrise to illuminate everything in its path. A gentle breeze coursing through the trees, it was one of the most beautiful sights I’ve seen. “It’s real beautiful out here, especially this time of the morning.” I jumped, turning around, seeing Patricia standing in front of the door behind me. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” “No, it’s fine, i’m fine.” I softly laughed. “Otis and I, we used to get up this early to watch the sunset, it’s our time together… Well it used to be.” She smiled softly. “Patricia, I’m so sorry for your loss. I have heard Otis was an amazing man.” “He was, he put that boys life above his own, it was the lords plan… This is how it was meant to be.” “He was a hero…” “He always was… Even when no-one else knew it, he was my hero.” She chuckled softly. I looked over to her as she sniffled. “I should get going. I have to collect the eggs.” “I can come with you and help if-“ “Its okay, I will be fine, thank you.” She shook her head. I watched as she left. Taking a few moments to myself, I take in a deep breath and sigh. Looking back over the field I watch as the sunrise finally dissipates. I can hear the others start to wake up inside. The door behind me opened again. “You’re awake already?” Maggie asked. “Hey, yeah. I don’t sleep much anyway.” I smiled “Maybe you should've been a farmer.” She joked

“Maybe I should have.” I laughed. “I heard you last night.” “Pardon?” “The nausea. You aren’t sick are you?” “I’m not sick…” I smiled softly. “I just don’t understand why they call it morning sickness when it hits at any time of the day.” I chuckled. We stood in comfortable silence. “Thank you.” I broke it. She raised her brow at me. “For the hospitality.” “It’s the least can do.” “No, really, thank you.” I smiled. “You’re welcome.” She smiled back at me, shaking her head slightly. “How long have you had the farm?” 

“The farm has been passed down in our family for generations.” “Is it something you’ve always wanted? The farm?” “When I was younger it was all I wanted. Then I grew up and went to college, Dad needed help, so I came home.” “Then this all happened?” “Yeah.” “And it has just been you guys?” She nodded. “Sorry to cut the conversation short, I have some work to do.” She smiled “Of course, sorry to take your time.” “It’s okay.” She chuckled before making her way down the front steps. I closed my eyes as a small gust of wind blew against my face. Sighing, I opened my eyes, turning towards the door, entering the house. I softly laughed looking over to where Glenn and T-dog were still asleep sitting on the two seater lounge, heads back, mouths open. “You think we should wake them?” I turned to see Rick staring at the two. “Maybe.” I laughed along with him. Once the soft laughter between the two of us died down I looked back at Rick. “How’s Carl?” I asked “He is still asleep.” “He will be okay. He will be up again before you know it.” I smiled. “You’re right. Thank you.” He turned back towards the door. “Rick?” He looked back at me. “Can we do something for Otis? For Hershel and his people?” “Its a good idea, whatever they need.” I nodded, before softly nudging Glenn’s leg with my foot, doing the same to T-dog. Glenn slightly stirred before going back to sleep, resulting in a more harsh nudge. “Guys. Time to get up.” Both guys opened their eyes and stretched. I walked to the kitchen and seen Hershel sitting at the table, looking as though he was deep in thought. I turned, not wanting to bother him. “You can stay.” “Oh, thank you…” “Take a seat.” I sat across from him and smiled as he looked over me. “The boy is in recovery.” “Thanks to you and your people…” He nodded. “If you need help around the property we can do it, whatever you need let us know and we will pull our weight.” “That won’t be necessary. Thank you.” He stated as he left the kitchen. Once everyone was awake, we made our way outside, with Patricia, Maggie, and Hershel’s youngest daughter Beth long with her boyfriend Jimmy… excluding Rick, Lori and Hershel. We followed them to the tree-line and helped collect stones, placing them into a wheelbarrow. We collected stones for about 15 minutes until I heard a noise in the distance, making the others cease movement. My face broke into a smile as the sound of a motorcycle became more clear. I turned and looked at Shane, Glenn and T-dog. “They’re here.” I smiled T-dog left us and went to retrieve Rick and Lori. We all made our way over to the house and waited for the rest of our group to join us. I watched as the RV, Hyundai and motorcycle drove towards the house, pulling up as the front door opened. Everyone stood looking at one another. “How is he?” Dale broke the silence. 

“He'll pull through, thanks to Hershel and his people.” Lori responded.

“And Shane. We'd have lost Carl if not for him.” Rick added. Dale embraced Rick in a hug.

“Thank god. We were so worried.” Carol rushed forward hugging Lori.

“How'd it happen?” Dale asked

“Hunting accident. That's all, just a stupid accident.” Rick spoke. I looked around, checking to see if they had found Sophia. I made eye contact with Andrea, who in return shook her head, knowing who I was looking for.

Andrea hugged me after hugging T-dog. “How have you been feeling?” She whispered. I nodded. “As good as I can be.” I smiled. “I think someone’s waiting for you.” I turn around and see Daryl staring at me. “I’ll talk to you later.” I smiled. “Go.” She softly pushed me. I walked over to him and smiled softly. “Hey…” I sighed. “Hey.” He nodded. I moved forward and wrapped my arms around his middle, resting my head against his chest. After a moment he wrapped his arms around my frame, leaning his chin on top of my head. “We have something we need to finish.” I look up to see Shane watching. I pulled away and grabbed Daryls hand, pulling him along as I made my way back where the stones were.

We all helped Hershel and his people build a memorial for Otis with the collected stones. Standing around the Mound of stones, we watched as Beth placed a stone on the pile. “Blessed be god, father of our lord Jesus christ. Praise be to him for the gift of our brother Otis, for his span of years, for his abundance of character; Otis, who gave his life to save a child's, now more than ever, our most precious asset. We thank you, god, for the peace he enjoys in your embrace. He died as he lived, in grace. Shane, will you speak for Otis?” Hershel spoke. “I’m not good at it. I'm sorry.” Shane responded. I looked at my brother dumbfounded.

“You were the last one with him. You shared his final moments. Please. I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning…” Patricia cried

“Okay. We were about done. Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. It was bad. Ankle all swollen up. ‘We've got to save the boy’. See, that's what he said.” He paused, shaking his head. “He gave me his backpack. He shoved me ahead.” He paused again. “‘Run’, he said. He said, ‘I’ll take the rear. I'll cover you’.” “And when I looked back... If not for Otis, I'd have never made it out alive. And that goes for Carl too. It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death, ever had meaning, It was his.” He finished, placing the last stone on to the pile. Standing between Glenn and Daryl, I watch as Shane walks back to where he stood before. “Thank you for speaking Shane.” Patricia nodded, still softly sobbing. We all stood in a moment of silence before all walking back toward the house.

“No Sophia?” Glenn asked Daryl. “We searched for a few hours last night.”  “Wait, we?” I stopped. “Me and Andrea.” He nodded. “Was there any sign of her?” He shook his head. “Who is Sophia?” I turned to see Maggie walking with us. “She is one of our group, she’s Carl’s age... She is missing.” “I’ll ask dad, see if we can help.” She smiled. “Thank you.” She nodded. Maggie left the group and entered the house, to talk to Hershel I’m assuming, Glenn following her inside. I look over to Daryl who is scanning the farm for any threat.  “Are you okay?” I ask. “What?” He shook his head. “Are you okay? After last night?” “I’m fine. Why are you asking?”  “Because I know that you being out there searching for that little girl, meant that you were out until at least 4am still looking. I know you.” “I’m fine.” He mumbled. I look over the the front door which opened, revealing Hershel and Rick, Daryl and I followed them as they walked toward the Cherokee, Shane and Andrea already standing by. “How long has this girl been lost?” Hershel asked. “This'll be day three.” Rick answered.Maggie joined us, spreading a map over the hood of the car, placing small stones on the top two corners and on the middle bottom. “County survey map. Shows terrain and elevations.” “This is perfect. We can finally get this thing organised. We'll grid the whole area, start searching in teams.” Rick nodded looking at the map. “Not you. Not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out.” Hershel told Rick, pausing to look at my brother. “And your ankle, push it now, you'll be laid up a month, no good to anybody.” He looked at Shane.  “Guess it's just me. I'm gonna head back to the creak, work my way from there.” Daryl nodded, heading off. “I can still be useful, I'll drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back.” Shane stated. “All right, tomorrow then. We'll start doing this right.” Rick nodded.  “That means we can't have our people out there with just knives. They need the gun training we've been promising them.” Shane spoke up.  “I'd prefer you not carrying guns on my property. We've managed so far without turning this into an army camp.” Hershel shook his head. “All due respect, you get a crowd of those things wandering in here...” “Look, we're guests here. This is your property. And we will respect that.” Rick paused looking at Shane as he surrendered his gun onto the map, Shane following. “First things first: set camp, find Sophia.” Rick continued. “I hate to be the one to ask, but somebody's got to. What happens if we find her and she's bit? I think we should all be clear on how we handle that.” Shane asked.  “You do what has to be done.” Rick answered.  “And her mother? What do you tell her?” Maggie asked. “The truth.” Andrea responded. Shane took his gun from the hood of the car, re-holstering it. “I'll gather and secure all the weapons. Make sure no one's carrying till we're at a practice range off site. I do request one rifleman on lookout. Dale's got experience.” He added.  “Our people would feel safer, less inclined to carry a gun.” Rick agreed. Hershel nodded. “Thank you.”  Shane walked off. “That stuff you brought, got more antibiotics, bandages, anything like that?” Maggie asked  “Just what you've seen.” Andrea replied leaving “We're running short already. I should make a run into town.” “Not the place Shane went?” Rick asked.  “No, there's a pharmacy just a mile down the road. I've down it before.” She nodded. “See our man there in the baseball cap? That's Glenn, our go-to-town expert. I'd ask him along just to be cautious.” Hershel thought for a moment, before looking at Maggie and nodding his head in Glenn’s direction, as she started to walk away.

I had been walking around the farm for a little while now, collecting thoughts. Watching Shane and Andrea sitting, cleaning guns on a picnic bench, Shane looking as if he is instructing. I see Maggie talking to Glenn and Dale, I can pretty much see the blush on Glenns face from where I am. I almost rounded the corner, until I heard Rick yell out, making me stop completely. I know that it’s wrong to listen into a conversation, but I couldn’t help it.

“Daryl. You okay on your own?” “I’m better on my own. I'll be back before dark.” He responded. “Hey. We got a base. We can get this search properly organised now.” “You got a point or are we just chatting?” I softly hit his arm with the back of my hand. “My point is it lets you off the hook. You don't owe us anything.” “My other plans fell through.” Daryl stated as he left. I thought for a moment of what that meant. Then it hit me. Daryl was planning on leaving.  He and Merle, they were just going to leave. No hesitation… He was never going to stay in the first place.

The door to the house slammed shut as Hershel walked down the front steps. “We could give you more space. Set up over by the barn.” Rick offered. “No, no need for that. Better you stay close to the house. I don't say this easily, Rick. We don't normally take in strangers. I can't have your people thinking this is permanent. Once you find this girl and your boy's fit for travel, I expect you'll move on. We need to be clear on that.” Hershel answered. I watched the older man walk away, Rick just standing with his hands on his waist, looking at the barn before leaving.

Out of the corner of my eye I see T-dog and Dale over at one of the well’s. I slowly make my way over to them. As I arrive T-dog was pumping the water, already mid way through a conversation, smiling at me when he noticed my presence. “-Everyone kicks in, does their part. Am I right? Do your part, don't complain.” He paused, scooping some water out of the pail. “That's what I always-“ The ladle was hit out of his hands.

“I wouldn't drink that if I were you.” Dale warned, looking between the two of us. “What?” I asked “Look at this.” We both followed Dale to the well, it’s planks busted as though something had fallen through, which Dale points into.

“We need to tell Hershel and his people.” Dale stated. “I’ll go get the others.” I turn around to see T-dog running to find the others. It’s snarls and growls grew more loud. The others joined us, standing over the top of the well.

Shane handed Dale a flashlight. He turned it on and directed the light down the well. I look down and see a bloated walker, it’s face swollen with blotchy discoloured skin. “Oh, that’s disgusting.” I say staring at it. “Looks like we've got us a swimmer.” Dale speaks. “Lets get this cover off of it, not that it’s covers much now…” I spoke up, grabbing one side of the wood. “Hey, put that down. You’ll hurt yourself.” Dale scolded, grabbing the otherwise. “He’s right, put it down.” Shane warned me. “But-“ “No buts.” Dale added. I sighed in defeat and put it down. “Its not even that heavy.” I muttered, causing Shane to glare at me. “How long do you think it's been down there?” Glenn asked. “Long enough to grow gills.” Andrea replied. “We can't leave it in there. God knows what it's doing to the water.” Lori spoke up. “We got to get it out.” Shane shook his head. “Easy. Put a bullet in its head. I'll get a rope.” T-dog offered. “Whoa whoa, guys. No.” Maggie responded. “Why not? It's a good plan.” Glenn nodded. “It's a stupid plan. If that thing hasn't contaminated the water yet, blowing its brains out will finish the job.” Andrea spoke. “She's right. Can't risk it.” Shane added. “So it has to come out alive?” T-dog asked. “So to speak.”  “How do we do that?” Glenn asked. For a moment we all look at each other, trying to come up with an idea on how to get it out. I watched it, trying to claw the sides of the well to get some sort of sustenance. “Guys.” I paused.

“What? What is it?” Lori asked. “Are you okay?” Glenn asked. “Yeah im fine, I have an idea.” “Well, what is it?” Dale asked. “Food… All they want is food.” “And? We know this. Get to the point.” Shane said crossing his arms. “What if we bait it? Put something on the end of a rope.” “You want to feed it? It’s not a damn pet!” Shane snapped. “I know its not! Let me finish!” I snapped back. The others looked at me. “As I was saying, Bait it, then drop a lasso around it, pull it out.” I finished. “Thats actually a good plan.” Dale nodded. “We just need something to use as bait.” “Leave that to me.” Maggie nodded, running toward the house. I made eye contact with Shane, he made the come here motion. I move around the well, standing next to my brother. “What gave you that idea?” “I don’t know. It just came to me.” “It’s a good idea.” “Thank you.” I watched as Maggie ran from the house back to the well. “Will this work?” She breathed out. “We have to try.” I shrugged. We opened the canned ham, wrapping fishing line and hooks to it. We connected it to the makeshift pole, lowering it toward the walker. The spam just dangled infant of the walker, who was blatantly ignoring it. “He's not going for it.”

“Maybe 'cause a canned ham don't kick and scream when you try to eat it.” T-dog spoke.

“He's right.” Lori paused, kneeling over the well. “There's a reason the dead didn't come back to life. And start raiding our cupboards.” She finished.

“We need live bait.” Andrea stated, looking at Glenn. “I’ll do it.” Glenn slightly nodded. “No I will.” Glenn looked at me and shook his head. “No, its okay. I’ll do it.” He persisted. “It has been decided Glenn is doing it.” Shane stated, glaring at me. “Glenn shouldn’t have to do this.” “(Y/n/n), its okay. I can do it.” Glenn tried to calm me down. “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you should.” I shook my head. It was silent until Glenn finally breathed out.

“Lets get this over and done with.” We set up the rope to make a pulley system, to hold Glenns weight, and when it comes to it, the walkers. I grabbed onto the rope. “Woah, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Please. Let me do this Shane, I know you want to protect me, but let me help.” I paused. “Look, All im going to do is help feed through the rope and pull when I need to.” I finished. Shane looked at me, hands on his hips, head down. “Fine. You can help.” I smiled as he left. I watched as Shane helped Glenn with his makeshift rope harness.

“Have I mentioned that I really like your new haircut? You have a nice shaped head.” Glenn said looking at Shane.

“Don't worry about it, bud. Hey, we're gonna get you out of here in one piece.” He responded. 

“Living piece. That living part is important.” He said, taking the rope for the walker, putting it over his arm. Shane got up, walking over to join us, ducking under the rope, grabbing it to help pull. “Nice and slow, please.” Glenn spoke.

“We got you.”

“Oh, you people are crazy.” Maggie shook her head.

“You want to get it out of your well or not?” Shane asked. Not letting go of the rope I slightly turn my head to see Shane, shaking my head when he looked at me.

“Give us an eye there, Maggie.” Dale asked. Glenn looked up at Maggie and she slightly shook her head, watching him slowly ease his way down. She stood above the well And looked down.

“Doing okay?” She asked. “Yup, doing great.” I heard the small echo of Glenns voice.

“Little lower. Little more.” Maggie helped instruct us. We slowly lowered the rope. Something felt wrong… I heard a creak, before the pump fell toward me.

Everyone behind me yelling. Choruses of “Get it!” And “Grab it!” were being called as I kept hold of the rope, which was now slipping.

I could hear Glenns screams, making me fight harder against the rope. The pump flew out of the ground, headed straight towards the well, dragging me with it. Everyones screams were going quiet, the heavy sound of my heart thumping draining out the surrounding sounds. I look up to see everyone with their arms behind T-dog, pulling him. T-dog has hold of me, pulling me away from the well with the others, I look down and realise that I was holding the pump. My legs pushing against the well, pulling the rope as hard as I can. I screamed as I pulled, suddenly hearing the screaming of Glenn and yelling of the group. “Glenn!” I heard Maggie yell. “Pull him up!” I shouted

“Pull him up! Pull him up!” “Get me out of here!” Glenn screamed. “Lets go! Pull!” Shane yelled. “Pull him up!” We were further from the well than I last remember, I see Shane and Lori both standing and pulling the rope up.

Dale pried the pump from my hands and slowly helped me stand up, T-dog helping, pushing me up. I look over to see Shane grabbing Glenn as he jumped out of the well, Glenn making straight for the ground. “Are you okay?” Lori asked I stumbled over, softly patting his back across from her. He panted.

“Back to the drawing board.” Dale sighed. Glenn looked up, shaking his head, standing up.

“Says you.” He handed him the rope, patting his shoulder as he walks past. Dale grabbed the rope, and walked toward the well. We all surrounded it again, only to see the walker caught in the rope. “Okay… Time for a new plan.” Andrea looked at me. I looked over to her. “Really?” I looked around for a moment, before stopping on Maggie. “What?” “We need a horse…” I sighed. She looked at me. “We can use the horse to help lift the walker out of the well.” She nodded, heading for the stables.

“Quick thinking.” T-dog spoke. “What?” “Grabbing the pump cylinder like that, Are you okay?” “Yeah. Im Okay.” I smiled. Maggie brought the horse over, tying the rope to her horses saddle. “Okay. We slowly bring this thing up.” Shane called. I stood with Maggie and her horse, helping calm it. T-dog was directing the speed of the rising walker. “Come on guys! Pull!” He encouraged. We pulled the rope slowly, making sure that the horse was okay. The walkers discoloured face had now risen above the wall of the well. The further the walker came out, the more its stench had spread, its eyes bulging out of its decaying skull.

I moved from my spot at the horse, standing behind Andrea, helping pull the rope.

The walker was caught against the well, proving more difficult to pull.

We pulled again, the rope gave way. The walker’s body had torn in half. Intestines, and bile spilling everywhere as its bottom half fell into the well. My stomach instantly churns as I stare at its upper body writhe on the ground. “We should seal off this well.” Dale nodded. “Yeah, might be a good idea.” Shane answered. “So what do we do about…” Andrea started, until T-dog cut her off, brutally bashing the walkers skull with the ladle.

The sound and smell was unbearable, I felt even more nauseous. “Good thing we didn't do anything stupid like shoot it.” He sneered when he finished.

I shook my head and walked away, making my way toward the house and the to the RV. I ran into Carol at the RV. “What happened to you?” She asked, softly grabbing my arm. “What do you mean?’ I ask, softly shaking my head. She sat me down onto the picnic bench near the RV. “Show me your hands (Y/n).” She said looking at me. “My hands?” I asked. I looked down to see angry red, blistering burns over the palms of my hand. “Oh, I didn’t even realise…” “What happened?” “There was a walker in the well, we tried to remove it…” “Are you okay?” “Yeah. I just didn’t realise that this had happened. It must’ve happened when the pump broke.”  “What?” “The pump broke and Glenn almost fell further into the well, I grabbed the rope and fought it as it slipped. I grabbed the pump.” “We need to get this cleaned up, it could get infected if we leave it untreated.” She stood up, making her way inside the RV. She returned with a little bit of gauze and ointment. Carol carefully wiped down my blistering hands, applying ointment to the gauze, wrapping both hands up. “Thank you…” She nodded, pulling me into a hug.

“Carol. You ready to head out?” I look over to see Shane and Andrea waiting by the car. “Ill be right there!” She called out. “Ill see you soon.” I nodded my head, as she smiled softly. She stood up, making her way over to the car. I found my tent and pitched it up with the others. I look over to see Glenn and Maggie already on the main road on their horses. “Hey Lori.” I called. “Yeah honey?” She looked up. “Im going for a walk… ill be back soon.” “Hang on, I’ll come with you.” She stood up. “No, its okay, goto Carl. He needs you… I will be okay.” I smiled. She looked weary. “I won’t go far, ill stay on the property.” “I don’t know…” “Please? I just need some air.” She looked around, then nodded. “What do I tell the others?“ She asked. “That I’ll be back.”

I followed the path around the property, coming across a dam. I sat down along the edge and looked over the water.

It was beautiful, peaceful. It felt as though the world hadn’t turned to shit. The cattle had broken through one of the fences, and were all at the damn, drinking, grazing the grass. Looking to the sky, I see the soft purple glow make its way over the horizon. “Shit.” I muttered under my breath realising that I lost track of time. Standing up, I make my way toward the path. I look across one of the paddocks, seeing the RV on the other side. I slip through the wire, deciding to take the shortcut. I walked through the grass, the sky now settling on the burnt orange and purple tones. I looked over to see Dale waving at me on the top of the RV. I smile and wave back as I walked toward him. Abruptly, I stop, my body hitting the ground underneath me as my foot falls down a hole. “Shit!” I hissed out, sitting up, pulling my foot out of the hole, examining it.

I look up to see a figure rushing toward me. “I’m okay.” I called out, pushing myself off the ground. I take a step forward and buckle slightly, a pair of arms now holding me steady. “I uh, I fell down a rabbit hole.” I chuckled slightly.

I look up, Daryl looking less than impressed. He didn’t say a word, just ushered me to walk back to camp with him. I hobbled slightly behind him. “Any luck on finding Sophia?” He shook his head, now walking faster. I sighed, trying to keep up. Daryl stopped, realising that I wasn’t with him now. “Hurry up.” He snapped “I am going as fast as I can.” I responded sourly. “I’ll meet you there.”I finished. He made his way toward me, lifting me up bridal style. “I can walk.” “Too slow.” He shook his head. Once we arrived to the camp, he sat me down and took off my boot, examining my ankle.

“It’s a little swollen.” “Thank you.” He nodded, walking off grabbing some food and bringing it back for us to share. We sat in silence. “I’m sorry.” He looked at me. “For?” “Your plans falling through.” He looked down, then around to see if any one else could hear us. “You ‘eard that?” “Yeah..” I spoke softly. “I know that You and Merle were moving on… Im sorry that you guys couldn’t.” I finished. “My plans didn’t fall through ‘cause of Merle.” He paused.  I looked down at my bandaged hands. “They fell through, ‘cause of you...”

Series Masterlist Next Part

[margoshansons]

Desperate Measures: 11/?

Masterlist

Summary: Worried about the people she loves, Y/N retreats inside of herself. Meanwhile, Raven and Bellamy do something unforgivable.

Warnings: swearing, ANGST, violence, intrusive thoughts

Notes: based on episode 1x11 “the Calm”

The Ark had gone silent. Ever since Unity Day. Not even a whisper or crackle of the radio was heard over the next few days.

Everyone she loved was dead.

Marcus, Vera, Abby, Kyle, Sinclair….

They were all gone and the few people she trusted on the ground were already at each other's throats. Footsteps trailed behind her as she continued work on the walkies, knowing exactly who they belonged to.

"You okay?" Bellamy asked gently placing his hand on her shoulder.

Y/N sniffed, wiping her nose as she shoved everything she was feeling behind her brick wall. It had taken some time to rebuild, but she was ready. "Yeah," She spoke, feigning the happy tone in her voice, "I'm fine."

"Y/N--"

"I can’t focus on that right now Bellamy," She cut off, refusing to turn to face him, "Not when we have grounders on their way."

Bellamy eyed her up and down, knowing there was more behind her wall than she let on, but thankfully he let her be.

She exhaled, relieved as his footsteps dissipated, the clanging becoming quieter as she turned to face Monty.

"You know he cares about you right?" The other engineer asked rhetorically. She nodded before gesturing back to the task at hand, "get back to work."

Raven came barreling in at breakneck speed, tension still rife from their previous conversation. "These are great, but without the proper wiring and transmitters we won't be able to talk long distance."

She knew Raven Reyes better than anyone, and that meant knowing her coping mechanisms as well. She was upset about Finn, but unlike some other people, Y/N let her be, knowing how she felt. She needed time to cope.

"What does that mean?" Monty asked.

Raven shot a resigned look at Y/N, "It means we have to dismantle the radio."

"No!" Monty stopped the mechanic from moving any further, "We need this to talk to the Ark"

"Monty get out of the way--"

Sparks flew behind them as Y/N snatched the radio free, stomach lurching as she did. It was over. Everyone was gone. She needed to accept that.

"Thanks" Raven's eyes narrowed in surprise as she began to break apart the very device they had rebuilt from the beginning.

"What the hell Y/N?" Monty asked, crossing his arms, "Do you not want them to find us?"

"They're dead Monty" Her breath hitched as she spoke, trying to prevent the tears from spilling out, "We need to use every part we can to survive."

The silence that fell over them didn’t last long. Soon the air was peppered with cries of a fire, causing Y/N to abandon the walkies to deal with the commotion outside. She watched in shock as the meat tent went up in flames, and she showed up just in time to see Murphy lunge at Del.

"hey!" Y/N called, storming between the two, "That's enough" She pulled Del off of Murphy, "I said Enough!"

Bellamy joined the commotion, "What the hell happened?"

Murphy wiped his nose, "Del built up the fire because your sister told him not to."

Y/N rolled her eyes in annoyance. "None of this is salvageable" She announced turning toward Bellamy, "We need to go hunting."

"I want one gunner in each group!" Bellamy called from the front of the dropship, "Use the spears and blades for hunting, bullets are for grounders only, we can’t spare the ammo."

Y/N tried to hide the involuntary smirk on her face as she continued to wire the speaker into the walkie talkie. "You're good at that" She responded, picking through the parts.

"Good at what?" Bellamy asked, joining her at the workbench.

"Ordering people around," She commented, "Leading."

He shuffled his feet, gaze scanning her body as her brow furrowed, creasing her beautiful features into a concentrated expression as she began to work with the walkie. "So are you" He decided on saying.

She scoffed, a small chuckle escaping her, "No I'm not, but thanks for the ego boost, god knows I needed it."

"Y/N--"

She turned to her side, facing him as his arm threatened to keep her trapped against the table. She wasn’t ready to talk right now. "Go, your people need you."

He swung his hand as he left, pulling at each finger before exiting the dropship. Relief flooded her body once again, upset with herself for pushing him away again. He was only trying to help.

But not today.

No one could help her today.

Night had fallen by the time she had finished the second walkie, Raven taking her leave long after Finn and Clarke had disappeared with Myles on the hunt. She wanted to reach out, to say something, but she also knew Raven had a very specific coping mechanism and she didn't want to intrude on that.

Y/N would hate if it happened to her, so why should she do it to Raven? They'd been burying their feelings since they were kids. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

"Y/N!" Octavia ran in breathless, "Have you seen Finn and Clarke?" She asked, green eyes growing wide.

"Not since they left for the hunt, why?" She asked, creasing her brow in worry.

Octavia hestitated, her mouth opening and closing until she spat out the news, "All the other groups have returned. All except them and Myles."

Y/N inhaled sharply, leaving her work abandoned on the table before her. "I'll tell Bellamy, we'll wait until he gives the okay, then we go to find them."

Octavia nodded, picking at her fingernails, "I'll see if anyone else has seen them."

Anxiety tickled her stomach as the two women parted ways. Clarke and Finn were fine, she told herself, they had to be. Clarke had faced worse than grounders. She brushed her hands together as she approached Bellamy's tent, pulling open the flap.

"Bellamy! Clarke, Finn, and Myles haven’t come back yet so we--"

The sound died in her throat as realization struck her. He wasn't alone.

Raven sat on the edge of his bed dressed in only her shirt and underwear, the mechanic froze as she was pulling on one of her socks. Her gaze wandered toward Bellamy, who was hiding the lower half of his body underneath the blankets they had found in the depot, his torso bare.

Y/N Franco had words and ideas for every situation, but as she found herself staring at the frozen pair, her mouth refused to work as she stuttered out a series of filler words.

Everything came crashing down at once.

Pain shot through her heart, spreading across her chest and lighting her body on fire. Every emotion she had ever felt toward the two of them culminating in the mantra that she had abandoned.

Love is weakness.

Except this wasn't love. This was betrayal. This was confusion. This was humiliation. This was anything but love.

She spun on her heel, walking away from the tent. Away from the scene that permeated her mind. Away from the numbness that took hold.

"Y/N," Miller asked, concern lacing his features. "Are you okay?"

She could only shake her head as she sat down slowly, staring deep into the fire as the other campers stared at their leader, having never seen her like this before. Bellamy called after her, the muffled sound crashing against her brick wall.

Disgust filled her body at the sound, her anger joining the emotions to create a sick concoction in her stomach as Miller watched his best friend tear herself apart.

She had trusted him. Let down her walls for him. She had cared for him, told him things she had kept from others her whole life. She had loved him and he had thrown it back in her face.

She grit her teeth, anger cutting through the numbness to fuel her. There were people waiting for her, people who needed her help. Clarke and Finn were out there.

"Y/N--" Miller cut through her thoughts, silencing himself as he saw Bellamy approach the firepit. He stood up, putting the pieces together as he caught the regretful look on the soldier's face. Miller felt rage stir in his stomach at the thought of him hurting his best friend and he clearly wasn't the only one. Octavia had joined him as they faced the older leader.

"Don't even think about it" Miller shot at the older guard, placing his hand on Bellamy’s chest.

A pleading look crossed Bellamy's face. "Please, just let me talk to her."

Miller refused to budge.

"There's nothing to talk about" Y/N's cold voice rang from the firepit as she stood up, her icy gaze landing on Bellamy's pleading one before turning toward Octavia. "Grab your things, we're headed after Finn and Clarke."

The younger girl nodded, grasping Bellamy by the arm before he could run after her, "You've done enough." She spoke, leaving him alone in the middle of the camp, watching in baited breath as Y/N disappeared inside the dropship, the familiar numbness taking hold.

"Is everything okay?" Monty asked, watching as the engineer finished the last walkie talkie with more force than she'd usually use.

"Yeah" She spoke, lying through her teeth, "Grab your stuff we're headed after Clarke, Finn, and Myles."

The smaller kid nodded, pausing as footsteps made their way up the dropship, Y/N growing tense at the sound of Raven's voice.

"Hey did you guys get those walkies fixed--" She stopped when her eyes met Y/N's.

Tension filled the room as the two girls stared at each other, Monty wishing he would disappear.

"Y/N listen I didn't know--"

"Shut it Raven and stop lying," She cut the mechanic off, drawing a surprised look from Monty. "Besides, There are more important things at stake here than hurt feelings."

Y/N whipped around, facing the mechanic with a cynical smile on her face. "You know other people exist outside your bubble Raven, but I suppose that would get in the way of using sex as a coping mechanism, wouldn't it?" She moved forward pressing a radio into her chest, "Don't worry, I fixed your damn walkie."

She stormed out of the dropship, gun in hand as they began to search the woods.

"Anyone see anything?" Monty's voice rang through the walkie as the ground crunched underneath their feet, rifles at the ready.

"Not yet" Raven whispered into the walkie, an unsure look drifting toward Y/N as the two women drifted through the forest. Octavia had insisted on talking with Bellamy and going with him, which only left Raven and Y/N together.

"I just want to say I'm sorry." Raven brought up, causing her to tense up. "It was a stupid mistake and you were right. I was using him as a way to cope instead of dealing with my feelings."

She remained silent as they stalked through the forest.

"Y/N please," The other woman grasped her wrist, pulling her back. "You have to believe that it didn't mean anything,"

"That doesn’t make it okay Raven." Y/N ripped her wrist away, "You can't just sleep with someone to make yourself feel better," She snapped, turning around before pausing. She faced the mechanic again, "You could've talked to me. I would've understood."

Raven was speechless until Monty's voice came over the radio once again.

"Is anyone else hearing the exodus black box signal right now?"

Y/N grasped the radio from Raven's hand before responding to Monty again, "If you hear it again, you get out of there okay Monty?" Her voice was desperate, pleading for him to survive. 

"Keep the moon on your left," Bellamy's voice ordered, her stomach stirring in anger as the sound came through the speaker, "You should be able to find us then."

A low moan was heard from the bushes and the two women clicked their guns in place, the barrel staring down the moving bush. They crept forward, ignoring the tension that existed between them, ignoring the silence that now draped itself across the forest.

The groan filled their ears once again and Raven nodded before Y/N pulled the bush apart, pointing her rifle at a shaking kid.

"Myles?" She asked in disbelief, lowering the gun as she stared at the pale bloodstained face of the younger delinquent.

"Bellamy, Monty" Raven's voice spoke through the radio, "We found Myles, he needs to get back to camp immediately."

"F-Finn and Clarke" Myles squeaked out, his trembling fingers wrapping themselves around Y/N's shoulders.

"Where are they?" She asked, eyes growing wide in urgency at the thought of Clarke not making it.

Myles gulped, one word falling off of his lips. "Grounders."

Bellamy and Octavia joined them a little while later, the siblings staring in shock at the shaking kid. "Where are Finn and Clarke?" Octavia asked, unable to tear her eyes away from Myles.

"Grounders took them," Raven explained.

"We won't be able to find them in the dark." Y/N clenched her jaw at the sound of Bellamy's voice, "Besides we need to get him back to camp."

The other two nodded as they leaned down to carry Myles back, Y/N fingering the walkie before calling Monty.

"Monty, we're headed back, do you copy?"

Silence.

She creased her eyebrows in fear.

"Monty, I repeat, do you copy?"

The only response was the crackling of the radio in her hands. The walk to the camp was silent, Bellamy and Y/N refused to even look at each other, while Raven and Octavia placed Myles down in the dropship.

Without saying another word, she marched to her tent, throwing the rifle to the ground before she zipped it up behind her.

Monty was gone. Finn was gone. Clarke was gone.

She held her head in her hands as her thoughts drifted upward. She wished her mother was here, wished Wells was here, she even wished Marcus was here to tell her what to do. All of her anger faded until she was left with nothing but pain.

Pain at Raven's betrayal. At Bellamy's betrayal.

Was it even a betrayal if there was nothing there in the first place?

But there was something there. There had to be. He had become her reason for living, her reason for surviving. Who was she if she didn't have that down here?

Like she said, he was all she had left, and now she didn't even have him.

She had trusted him and he betrayed that trust by ripping her heart out like it was nothing. Like it was second nature to him. And now only pain remained in that hollow cavity.

The unzipping of her tent made her freeze, wiping what little tears had spilled out from under her eyes before facing the intruder, pulse racing as she saw who it was.

"Leave me alone" She uttered coldly.

"Y/N please let me explain--"

She whipped around, heart melting at his pleading gaze. But her wall was up and this time nobody would get past it.

"No" She snapped, moving toward him, "You don't get to explain, not after what you did." She directed everything she was feeling at him until he crumbled.

Bellamy began to beg, hoping to reach the part of her that had fallen for him. "Please, I know I fucked up if you just gave me a chance--"

"I gave you a chance Blake" She snarled back, "I gave you a hundred chances! And I would've given more until you decided to sleep with one of my closest friends."

Silence sat between them, the tension pushing them further and further apart.

"Why did you do it?" Her voice quivered as she asked the question, "How could you do it?"

Bellamy moved closer, his jaw clenched, "She came to me, she was the one who wanted it."

Y/N shook her head incredulously, "Don't you dare try and pin the blame on her, she owned up to her mistake, you haven't. You had a choice and you chose wrong."

"You wanna know why I did it?" Bellamy asked, his tone growing darker as he moved closer, Y/N pushing herself backward. "You shut me out" He blamed, "You left me alone in the camp while you went to go blow up a bomb, you refused to talk to me about anything regarding the Ark. You pushed me away. You pushed me toward Raven because I was trying to forget about you."

She stepped backward, caught off guard at the admission, sucking in her breath sharply as guilt wracked her chest, the back of her thighs against the worktable, stuck against the working area as Bellamy moved closer, eyes scanning her for a reaction.

"Your safety is all I think about. You are all I think about. Before I go to bed, when I wake up. Before I even consider the others I always have to ask whether it's safe enough for you. I can't get you out of my head!" His gaze flickered down to her lips, pondering the movement for a second before speaking softly, "And I don't want to."

She flicked her gaze upward, tilting her chin to meet his, silver bracelet digging into her skin, three words dripping venomously from her lips. All too reminiscent of the last time she stood in this position. 

"Love. Is. Weakness."

Bellamy's face crumbled, his mouth trying to form words but being unable to. Pain swirled in his eyes as he stared down at her.

"Now get. out." She commanded.

He clenched his jaw, nodding weakly as he turned on his heel, ignoring the lump forming in his chest. Bellamy disappeared and Y/N collapsed, leaning against the leg of the table as saltwater hit her cheeks. She couldn't stop the sobs from coming any more than she could stop the grounders from marching.

Her tent flew open and she scrambled atop her bed, not wanting anyone else to see her like this. "God, can you not take a hint?" She snapped at the intruder.

"Not down here apparently," Miller's soothing voice called to her and she dropped her walls. "Don't worry, no one else knows."

She collapsed into Miller's arms, his heartbeat keeping her grounded as her hysterical sobs rang through the tent. "Why couldn't I let him stay? What did I do wrong? Why did he leave?" She whispered her doubts into Miller's chest as he ran his hands through her hair and up and down her spine, the calming effect not nearly as powerful.

Because as much as she loved Miller, there was one thing he wasn't.

He wasn't Bellamy.

Ugh this one hurt. Don’t worry, like I said it will all get resolved by the end of the season.

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[whumpiary]

post-facility; a few weeks after this drabble, though you don’t need it for context.

[content warnings: this drabble is set in the lead up to sex, during foreplay. expect an appropriate tiny smattering of spice. briefly implied incest in the form of a very bad taste joke. referenced drug and alcohol use]

-

“So you’re telling me you had a totally normal life. Mummy and daddy? Two and a half kids? White picket fence? The whole shebang?”

Cass nuzzles at his date’s neck until they tilt their head up, give him space to lay lazy kisses along their jugular.

“Yep.”

His date groans deep in their throat, fingers tangling loosely in his hair as they pull his head to the side to plant a kiss on his lips. Cass catches them there, distracting them with his mouth expertly until they hum a gentle protest, make some distance between them again with a tilt of the head.

“I don’t believe you,” they murmur against his lips.

Cass grins and shifts to straddle them, hands trailing down their chest and back up as he looks down at them through heavy lids.

“Well let me take your pants off and I’ll see what I can do about convincing you”

They snort a laugh and shove softly at his hands, pushing palm against palm.

“You’re not taking anything off until you tell me something about yourself”

“I already told you plenty”

“You told me a pile of horseshit”

Cass rolls his eyes and leans down to kiss up his date’s stomach. Usually if he starts at their belly and works his way up their chest, they’re ready to stop talking by the time he gets to their mouth.

“Truth’s boring,” he mumbles.

“So’s the nuclear family”

Cass hums as he circles his tongue around the birthmark on their ribs, a little brown smudge of dark pigment against olive skin. His date gives a little sigh and leans into his touch minutely, their fingers scratching gently at the back of his head, tangling in his hair.

“Okay, so was it like… I dunno. Were you a foster kid?”

Cass kisses the line between the birthmark and their nipple.

“Nope.”

A flick of his tongue is met with a tiny moan, the sucking of air in between their teeth as his date struggles to compose themself.

“Group home?”

Cass smirks against their skin as their spine arches up, pressing their body towards him as he splays his fingers wide over their ribs.

“Nope,” he murmurs, low and deep, delighting in the goosebumps that meet his lips as he does. He moves up along their collarbone, ready work at their neck again, only for them to tilt their head in his way, catching his jaw in their hand.

“Cult?” they ask, with a little smirk. Their eyebrow’s curling up like it’s a joke, eyes are piercing into him like it’s not. Cass sighs, leaning his cheek into their palm so he can plant a little kiss on their wrist.

“If I say yes, do I finally get to blow you?”

“Depends,” his date shrugs, letting him kiss down the inside of their arm.

“On what?”

“If it’s true”

Cass groans and rolls off of them with a huff, lying flat on his back. He stares at the cracks in the ceiling of his date’s shitty little apartment before flopping an arm over his face to cover his eyes.

“Why does it matter?”

He listens to the crinkling of the sheets as his date turns to face him, propping themself up on one arm.

“Because”

“Because why?” he grunts

“I like to know things about the people I’m dating”

Cass snorts, moves his arm a little to squint up at them.

“We’re hardly dating”

They roll their eyes, withdrawing their hand with a little sneer.

“Fine, then. I like to know things about the people I’m fucking, alright?”

“Yeah? How much did you know about that girl at TinTins on Thursday?”

His date smirks at the memory, gives him a little jab to the ribs. Cass squawks and returns the favour, and his date lurches in a peal of laughter. They’re so responsive to touch. It’s part of what makes this fun. He could spill his breakfast across their belly and they’d shiver with anticipation.

Cass takes advantage of the moment to abuse his date’s ticklishness until they’re squealing and writhing away from his hands. They’re just as wirey as Cass but taller and quicker and he has to duck a few times to miss a rogue elbow to the teeth as they try to wrestle out of the attack. It’s only a few moments before they’re straddling his hips, pinning his wrists, forcing Cass into a grinning surrender.

“You know what I mean,” they say, sobering a little even as laughter still bubbles out of them. They trail their fingers down along his arms to rest on his chest “I’ve told you stuff about me. Like I know that was… I know I was drunk and it was different but it just…”

They trail off with a little frown, tracing nonsense shapes into his sternum. Cass props himself up on his elbows to get a better look at their face.

“I dunno,” they continue, voice low and husked our “It just like… feels like you’ve got all this ammo on me now. You know? And like. I don’t know shit about you”

Cass tilts his head to the side, brings their hand up to press a kiss to their knuckles.

“I’m not gonna use it as ammo,” he says gently.

It’s the right thing to say. They smile something sad at him before leaning down to kiss him properly, pulling him towards them until they’re both sitting, legs tangled around each others’ waists. They stay there for a few minutes. Kissing. Tracing the shape of each other’s faces with light finger tips.

And the intimacy is foreign and soft and gentlly horrifying and they can both feel it so even though it’s fucking lovely Cass is kind of unsurprised when his date pushes him away gently with an impish little grin, a new thought clearly having hit them in the quiet.

“Oh my god, were you a Bergen Boy?” they tease. Cass feels his heart drop through his stomach like a stone through oil. “Did you have to wear the little outfits?”

He mustn’t flinch like he thinks he does because his date is still smiling, smoothing out an imaginary shirt collar that Case can feel starched and choking against his throat. He pushes his date’s hair back from their face, watching the way they tilt their head back into his hand a little. Their turn to kiss his wrist.

“Yeah, you nailed it,” he says, letting his face curl into a smile. Enjoying the joke. “My favourite was the blue one”

They pause in their ministrations to pull the appropriately dramatic impressed face, “Ooh with the silver buttons?”

Pewter buttons actually.

“Mm-hmm,” he says, nodding his head enthusiastically “And the, um… God, what do they have? Fuckin’ silk slippers?”

His date snorts a laugh and kisses at his neck with a little hum. Cass closes his eyes and tilts his chin up. He hopes his heart isn’t beating too hard. Or at least if it is, that his date would just misread it for arousal. That’d work. Technically the shoes they’d worn were only silk lined.

“I’m serious,” his date pushes, fingers gently exploring Cass’ throat as they kiss along his jaw “What’s your family like?”

“I dunno,” Cass shrugs. What would he even fucking say at this point? “Normal”

His date rolls their eyes and shoves off him in annoyance.

“What is that meant to mean?”

Cass sighs, leans back on his elbows as he tries to figure out a way to talk out of this whole thing. He’d just wanted an easy fuck. They were usually dangerously easy. Eager, even. So what the fuck was with the ninth degree?

Why was everything that used to be easy getting tangled and hard recently?

“I’m not asking for your whole backstory,” his date says, pushing harder now “I just wanna know something about you. We’ve been doing this for like two months and I don’t even know your last name”

Cass shrugs. What is he meant to say? What do they want him to say? And even as he thinks it he can feel the truth, the truth, the truth, but he’s not fucking giving them that so what’s he meant to fucking say?

“What do you wanna know?”

“Well. Like. What’s your mum like?”

Cass lets out a huff of air and looks down at the galaxy patterning on the doona cover. He traces a little solar system with his forefinger as he thinks.

“I dunno. Maternal,” he mumbles. His date rolls their eyes again, shitting back on their heels. Cass tries again “I dunno… she's… nice, I guess. Loving. Good cook”

“I don’t believe you”

“Fine, then. I never met her,” he snaps “She died in childbirth or she got hit by a truck or she got abducted by the fucking goblin king or something. Do you like that story better?”

His date clenches their jaw and he almost wonders if they’re going hit him before they fire the next question.

“Dad, then?”

“Porn star,” Cass smirks “Suuuuper famous one”

“You’re being an asshole,” they say, and there’s a little bit of hurt there now. Cass can feel an apology sitting under his tongue, ready for him to use if he wants, but it tastes bitter and the interrogation is putting him in a shit mood so he swallows it and shrugs again.

“I don’t like talking family”

His date scoffs, and Cass vaguely registers the way their hands are curling into fists around the sheet, the way their breath has shifted low and heavy the way people do when they’re trying to decide if they’re gonna slap you or not.

“Alright then,” they try again, shifting tacts “Where’d you go to school?”

“I didn’t”

“Piss off, I’ve seen you debate socialist theory tweaked to hell. You went to school”

Cass grunts, “Fine. I was homeschooled, then”

“By your porn star dad?”

“Yeah,” he drawls, feeling mean and petty as he lets his eyes slide down their body “He taught me pretty well don’t you think?”

Their flinch backwards is so tiny it’s almost non existent. But it’s there.

“That’s not funny,” they whisper

“Not if it’s true, no”

There’s a second, a moment, half a moment where they nearly believe him. Cass watches pity turn to rage as they decide they’re not going to.

“Siblings?”

A sharp intake of breath. Huff of laughter to disguise it. Cass smiles like his mouth isn’t full of glass.

“I’m done talking about this. Are we gonna fuck or not?” he says. His date smiles victory.

“That’s a yes then. Brother or sister?”

“I said I’m done talking about it”

“Younger or older?”

“Drop it”

“Or were you the middle child?”

“Fucking leave it”

“Is that why you don’t like talking about your family? Did mummy and daddy forget about you?”

“I said drop it, Henri!”

Everything stops.

Cass slams his jaw shut and his eyes closed and his heart stops beating but the name has already left his mouth and the air between them is frozen and on fire both at once.

He hears his date scoff.

Probably fair enough.

Now would be a really, really good time to remember their name.

“Henri, huh?” they mumble. Cass doesn’t open his eyes “That your brother? Or your ex?”

Cass lets all of the air out of his lungs in a low, burning exhale.

“I’m leaving,” he mutters, reaching for his shirt. He doesn’t look at his date’s face. He can see their fists curling and uncurling in the sheets again. They’d feel better if they hit him. He knows they would.

For a second he thinks about suggesting it.

“Is anything you’ve told me about yourself true?” they growl at him as he finds his socks

“Probably not”

He doesn’t need to look at them to know that they’re shaking with anger and hurt and embarrassment.

“Is Harley even your real name?”

Cass snorts a laugh as he pulls on his shoes. He’d forgotten he told them that.

“Nope,” he says. It’d seemed funny when he was high as fuck and chatting up a stranger in a club six weeks ago. It doesn’t really feel funny anymore.

“You’re not even gonna say sorry, are you?”

Cass doesn’t look at them. Doesn’t acknowledge the tears clogging up their voice, snagging in their throat. He claws around for his phone.

“Nope”

He doesn’t listen to them sniffing. Doesn’t see them wiping at their face with a rough, angry hand. He’s glad, actually, that he can’t remember their name. Not his fucking fault they caught feelings.

Cass pulls on his jacket with one hand and grabs his bag with the other as he makes for the exit.

“You’re a fucking cunt, do you know that?”

Cass pauses for a moment, halfway out the door. He gives his date one last once-over. Then a tight grin, a tiny salute.

“Yep.”

[siribear]

somehow, their mattress survived the bombs. the bed frame? not so much. with codsworth’s help, she drags the splintered wood out of the house. other than that, she can’t bring herself to remove anything else from the house. not the ruined stereo, the blasted television, the broken kitchen chairs. codsworth had two hundred years to clean up the glass and wood and dust, but other than that, her home remains untouched.

two centuries ago, she stood in shaun’s room with her husband. played with the mobile above shaun’s crib that’s only shattered bits of plastic and string, now. she doesn’t move that, either. just moves the dusty old books back to their ruined shelves.

she changes into the leather armor in her old bathroom. doesn’t look in the mirror for fear of what she might see.

back in her room, she lays out her new guns and ammo. codsworth hovers nearby, reminding her how to clean them when she misses a step. she replaces her supplies in her pack, hides nate’s wedding ring in a pocket near the bottom, and shoves it in a corner.

claire lies back on her old mattress. she expects to sleep, but doesn’t. every time she closes her eyes, she sees the dead raiders. the ones she tore apart.

instead, she spends the remaining daylight finding beds for the others. it feels strange, looting her neighbors’ houses, but she ignores the feeling the best she can. in the ruins, she finds enough beds for the longs, for mama murphy, and sturges. at the back of one of the houses is a basement, and there she finds a sleeping bag and a store of food that can last them a few days.

she unloads a duffel bag in the house across from hers, and the group divvies up the food. when preston pokes his head in, she unrolls the sleeping bag and apologizes.

he shrugs. ‘i’ve slept on worse. thank you, though.’

she does find a broken water pump behind another house, as well as a small garden plot with the remains of two fruit plants. when she shows sturges, he assures her he can fix it.

preston catches her still wandering the neighborhood long after the sun goes down.

‘can’t sleep?’ he asks softly.

‘just trying to pull this place back together.’

he nods. ‘i can’t either. i keep thinking more raiders will come in the middle of the night.’

‘you can’t defend the others if you’re dead on your feet, you know.’

a chuckle. ‘i could say the same to you.’

‘that’s - okay. that’s fair.’

the smile he gives her is genuine, understanding. ‘look, i know i kind of forced you to help us - ’ she gestures in the negative, but he continues. ‘ - but i didn’t really expect you to stay and help us... rebuild. so, thank you. again.’

it’s her turn to shrug. ‘i wanted to help.’

‘that’s the thing. we’re not - i’m not used to that. not anymore.’ he sits on the curb of the worn down road. she sits cross legged next to him. ‘at the museum, i mentioned the quincy massacre.’ he takes a steadying breath. ‘we were betrayed. first, a minuteman, clint, joined the gunners. they attacked quincy, and would have taken over that night if not for colonel hollis. we fortified the town, held our own for the days that the gunners attacked, but clint returned. he wanted us to surrender.

‘colonel hollis called for reinforcements, but no one came. too many politics over the line of succession after the former general died, i guess. we didn’t last another night. twenty of us made it out of quincy. thirteen of us made it to concord. now it’s just us.’

‘and you’re the last minuteman,’ she concludes.

‘but it doesn’t have to be that way!’ his change in tone startles her. ‘the commonwealth - i think it still needs the minutemen. we can do better. defend the people we actually swore to protect. but i - i don’t know if i can - ’ his previous enthusiasm dies just as quickly as it came.

claire mulls it over, tapping her chin. ‘you’d have to rebuild that trust as well. i can’t imagine quincy endeared the minutemen to anyone.’

his shoulders sag.

‘so, preston.’ she stands, grinning. ‘where do we start?’

‘wait, really?’ he jumps to his feet. ‘you’re going to do this?’

‘i haven’t been here long, but i can see having more people like you in the commonwealth can’t hurt,’ she reasons.

‘haven’t been here... where did you come from, anyway?’ he looks to the pip-boy on her wrist. ‘a vault?’

she blanks. no one would really believe she’s two hundred years old, right? she wouldn’t believe it if anyone tried to tell her that. so she lies. ‘oh, no. i’m from out west. i’m looking for someone.’

‘mama murphy mentioned that. and you think they came to the commonwealth?’

claire kicks a rock on the road. ‘it’s the only lead i’ve got, so far.’

preston hums, thinking. ‘well, i can’t help but be grateful for your timing.’ he looks over at the house across from hers, where she had shown him the sleeping bag. ‘i think i might actually sleep easy tonight.’ when claire doesn’t move to leave, he says, ‘if you still can’t sleep, there’s a settlement over the hill. it’s a farm, run by the abernathy family. i.. remember they requested help from the minutemen, before we fell apart. maybe you can talk to them?’

‘a farm? we could definitely use some food,’ she says, mostly to herself. ‘yeah, i think i’ll do that. thanks, preston.’

‘no problem, uh - ’

again, a name. she makes a decision, in the moment. ‘alice. just - call me alice.’

preston smiles. ‘no problem, alice. and i can’t thank you enough, honestly.’

‘thank me by getting some sleep, preston. i’ll be back soon.’

-

codsworth joins her on her way out of sanctuary. dogmeat, surprisingly, follows her across the bridge as well. alice scratches behind his ears as the trio stands on the edge of the bridge.

‘mum?’

‘yes, codsworth?’

‘i heard you speaking to mr. garvey. i think helping the minutemen is an honorable cause.’ she hums in agreement. ‘and i heard you say - your name is alice, mum?’

she doesn’t respond.

‘would you like me to adjust my settings?’

‘that would be best, codsworth.’

‘of course, miss alice.’

dogmeat whines. they continue toward the red rocket gas station, veering west as night settles around them.

-

post-war commonwealth is quieter, alice notes. no sound of cars in the distance, no sounds of the city. just the wind, the crunch of leaves under her feet, and the putter of codsworth hovering alongside her. a pair of - and she shouldn’t be surprised - giant flies attacks them as they pass by concord’s water tower, but they’re taken care of quickly. codsworth calls them bloatflies, alice calls them dead, and dogmeat calls them forward.

ahead, a wooden building appears over the hill.

‘that’ll be abernathy farm, then.’ she breaks into a jog.

dogmeat runs up to a small pen and begins sniffing around the fence. alice slows and whispers to codsworth, ‘what is that thing?’

‘that is a brahmin, mum. mutated after the war.’

brahmin. she stares at what should be a cow. or, it would be, if it only had one head.

‘you’ll step away from her, if you know what’s good for you,’ threatens a man from the porch of the towering house. he approaches slowly, a shotgun pointed at her chest.

alice takes two, slow steps away, hands up to show she means no harm. ‘i’m just here to trade for food.’

‘right,’ he draws the word out, eyeing the trio: a curious dog, a mr. handy, and a woman in bloodied leather armor. alice imagines they make quite a sight, even for the commonwealth.

‘it’s late, i know. i’m sorry.’ earlier, her pipboy read just before midnight. ‘i’m new to the commonwealth - killed a group of raiders this morning and helped a group of refugees settle in sanctuary over the hill.’

‘that was you?’ he lowers the shotgun an inch. ‘we heard the gunfire, but couldn’t get involved, not after - ’ he seems to catch himself. ‘anyway, fine. i was just wrapping up for the night. what are you looking for?’

‘any extra food would be great. some seeds would help us be more self sufficient, too.’

‘ever been a farmer?’

‘ah - no, but i’m willing to learn.’

the man, blake abernathy, he says, gives her tips on farming. she types in the notes on her pipboy. after, he disappears into the house. inside, alice can see a small light flicker on, and when he returns its with a younger woman in tow.

‘my daughter, lucy.’

‘nice to meet you!’ she holds out a hand, and alice shakes it. ‘you’re not one of the usual traders.’

‘i’m not from the area.’ she shrugs. ‘i’m actually with the minutemen. we’re trying to establish ourselves up in sanctuary.’

in the pipboy light, blake frowns. ‘you didn’t say you were with the minutemen.’

‘is that a problem?’

‘some people don’t take kindly to the minutemen. not after what happened at quincy.’

alice lets out a small, ah. ‘i’m sorry to hear that. oh,’ she takes the handful of seeds and produce from lucy and stuffs them in a pocket of her backpack, ‘what do i owe you?’

lucy must see the blank look on her face when blake tells her some amount of ‘caps.’ ‘do you not use bottle caps where you’re from?’ before alice can respond, lucy, thankfully, barrels on and helps her count out the caps from the pouch preston gave her. ‘it’s easy. just one-for-one.’

‘thank you,’ alice says, earnestly. the new currency will take some getting used to. cap-italism enters her mind, unbidden, and has to wave off blake and lucy’s confused looks when she begins to laugh. ‘just different is all. sorry.’

‘right. anyway, just watch out for raiders.’ blake’s voice shifts to a low growl. ‘they only know how to take what isn’t theirs. no matter who tries to stop them.’

‘daddy - ’

‘mind telling me what happened?’ alice ventures.

he does, pain evident in his voice. parents burying their child. he must hear some echoed understanding in her own voice when she asks what she can do to help. ‘mary had a locket, it’s been in connie’s family for generations. if you could get that back...’ a thought crosses his mind. ‘well, maybe we’ll reconsider our thoughts on the minutemen.’

alice nods. ‘it would be my pleasure.’

lucy grabs her arm when she turns to leave. ‘daddy, honestly, she looks dead on her feet. we have a spare bed upstairs. the locket can wait until the morning.’

blake seems to agree, because he doesn’t stop them when lucy hauls alice into the house.

‘i will guard the area, mum!’ codsworth calls as she crosses the doorway, and dogmeat follows in after her, tail wagging.

[jaehoneey]

Trigger

» series: secret relationship au

» changbin x reader

» angst, slight fluff 

» setting: modern Korea

» warnings: mentions of guns, blades, and death

The fourth time you fell in love, you wished he pulled the trigger.

This lifetime was different from the past three; you were in a place you didn’t want to be in. You stumbled upon trouble without looking for it, and  you really wished that you could just get out.

When you were younger, your dad was always out, and your other dad was never around. Whenever you asked your dad about him, he would stop what we was doing, tell you to go to your room, and when you’d fallen asleep, he’d go to you, and kiss your forehead, whispering a quiet I’m sorry. When you got older, you understood why.

You didn’t choose this life, this life chose you. Your dad was a known mafia boss, and you just happened to be his only child, therefore making you the heiress to the empire that he was building. And he was so close, so close to finishing his job when someone finished him.

And that’s why you’re in the situation you’re in now; tied up to a chair, a gun pointed at your head, and yet, you didn’t feel any fear.

“Kill her,” the woman said, “son, just kill her.”

“But mom,” the boy retorted, “she’s pretty.”

You stiffened upon hearing those words-- maybe it was a flashback from your lifetime with Chan, maybe because you didn’t like how it came out in this context, maybe it was both.

The woman hummed and you brought your eyes up to her from the floor.

“She is, isn’t she?” She chuckled. “What do you plan to do with her?”

The gun was pulled away from your head and you swallowed the sigh of relief that wanted to come out, your stomach free from all the jitters; yeah, you weren’t scared, but you were nervous as fuck.

“Why don’t you just kill me?” You asked as you snapped your head to the son. “I’m better off dead.”

“True, you dying would mean less competition,” the boy agreed, “but like I said, you’re pretty.” He then turned to his mom and answered her question with a shrug. “Ruin her. I’m sure she knows how these things work. She doesn’t follow, she gets hurt, or worse. Killed.”

You figured you had no way out as the mom and son exchanged a look. It was no doubt that the mom was pleased with how her son was dealing with things, and without another word, she and her men left the room, leaving you alone with the boy you didn’t even know the name of.

“I swear to god,” you started, “you touch me, I’ll cut your finger off.”

The guy crouched down as he sighed, and in one swift motion, instead of a gun in his hand, it was a blade. You squirmed, you never liked the way knives cut into your skin, the stinging pain lasting longer than necessary, and you hated how anything could be varied. With guns, all you needed was the gun you were used to and the ammo, one shot to the head, you’re dead. But with blades? It varied in length, size, thickness, sharpness, bluntness, and the way it was used. You could either scratch someone or fully stab them, and sometimes, you couldn’t even control it.

“Relax, princess,” he said as he slightly ruffled his hair, not meeting your eyes, “the only reason I’ll be touching you,” his hand met yours, “would be to do this.”

You felt the restraints snap off your left hand followed by your right. You rubbed your wrists lightly as he removed the restraints from your waist and legs as well, and you stood up, not hesitating to disarm the boy of his blade to point it at him. He only chuckled, not even flinching as you held the tip of the blade against his neck, slightly piercing it to draw a trickle of blood.

“Unlike you, I’m quite used to the sting of blades. Almost make me feel at home.” He said. “And the pain coming from you? You’ll see that in time, you’ll enjoy it as much as I do.”

But you never did, and he understood, Changbin understood. Even though he had freed you from your physical restraints, those were nothing compared to the invisible restraints he had on you for he also had restraints from his mom. For months, you stayed in his room, for months you had to go through physical pain in order to convince his mom that he was ruining you; it was literally the only thing keeping you alive.

And today was the worst-- his mom had come to watch.

You were dragged back to the room where you were gun-held, and his mom was just sitting there, eyeing you carefully. “I couldn’t touch your dad,” she sighed deeply, “but now, seeing my son ruin you? I’m quite disappointed that your dear daddy couldn’t see how much pain you’re going through, that’s how I could’ve hurt him, I now realize. Your dad was invincible,” she chuckled dryly, “but I can’t say the same for his little heiress.”

She turned her gaze to Changbin. “Cut her.”

Changbin didn’t hesitate, not even for a second, and soon you felt a blade slicing into your skin, deeper than you liked, deeper than you were used to. You pulled away, hissing as you turned and glared at him. His face was emotionless, but his eyes, his eyes betrayed him. With the amount of months you had been with him, seen every side there was to see, you learned to read his movements, understand his actions, hear his words, and look in his eyes-- especially at times like this. He had talked to you before today, telling you that he had to really hurt you, to the point where you could even come out limping, but he would do everything to prevent that from happening.

And at this very moment, his eyes were screaming apologies.

Minutes into the fucked up entertainment, Mrs. Seo figured that she was satisfied enough.

“Throw her out tomorrow,” she said, “I’ve heard enough of her screams and whimpers. Tonight,” she smiled sickly, “tonight, you make her moan.”

When you returned to Changbin’s room, he immediately set you down on his bed as he ran to his bathroom and came back with a wet cloth and a first-aid kit. He cleaned your cuts with soft apologies spilling out of his lips all the time, he kissed them softly before applying ointment and bandaging them up, and last, he wiped your cheeks from the dried and fresh tears that were flowing down.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered again, “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you replied, just as softly, “we do everything we can to survive, don’t we?”

He hesitated for a moment before his thumb made its way down to your bottom lip, brushing it gently. “You were just unlucky enough to end up here, with me.”

You jutted out your lips to gently kiss his thumb. He looked up at you with big eyes, blinking rapidly. “Or maybe I was lucky,” you retorted, “I’d like to think that.”

“Y/n,” he called out, “how the fuck is you being hurt physically and emotionally lucky?”

“What makes you think you’re hurting me emotionally as well?”

He slightly stood up and rested his arms on either side of you, leaning forward so slowly, so cautiously, as if he was scared to hurt you again for the hundreth time today.

“Changbin,” you cupped his cheek with your hand when he was close enough, “you could never hurt me. Ever since the day you explained yourself to me,” he leaned closer, “you could never.”

He searched your eyes and as you looked into his, you were surprised to see love and adoration glimmering in them. You and Changbin rarely had moments like these-- the most he would do would be tending to your wounds and made sure you healed properly, or warning you that he’d have to hurt you the same night he warned you.

But this, this, was different.

Without another word, he placed his lips on yours and you kissed him back without thinking twice. First, it was slow and steady, gentle and cautious, hesitant. But as the moments passed, you both became bolder; your hands wrapping around his neck as he pushed you down to the mattress. He licked your bottom lip for entrance and you allowed him in, deepening the kiss. After some time, he pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, letting out a shaky breath.

“I love you.”

The words struck you, made a warmth spread across your chest. When was the last time you actually heard those words being said to you, with such love and admiration? It was Chan. The lifetime with Chan. It was only that time.

And now, Changbin had said it.

“I love you, too.”

You knew what was going to happen next. You felt so happy and content. You knew what was going to happen next, you just didn’t know how.

All you knew was that one moment, you were asleep next to Changbin, then the next, you were being dragged (once again) in the halls of the mansion, gunshots and shouts heard. Your eyes shot open as you looked at the man who was carrying you.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” he said as he rounded a corner, “when your other dad died, I couldn’t bring myself to come back. I’m so sorry I took so long, my daughter.”

You swallowed thickly. “D-dad?”

“Your other dad, dear. I think you know how the world works.”

When you got out of the doors, your dad gently put you down, and your eyes immediately met Changbin’s. Beside him were his moms, glaring at the man behind you.

“You think you can kill my husband, and torture my daughter, and get away with it?” The man asked. “You are very, very, mistaken, Mrs. Seo.”

“Oh please,” she spat, “your daughter was only fun for a bit. We were supposed to throw her out today.”

You heard the sound of a gun clicking, and before you could identify where it had come from, both of the women were on the ground, dead. You looked at your dad in fear, the gun in his hand slowly aiming to Changbin as he looked at you.

“Is he the one who’s been torturing you?” He asked sternly, a large contrast to how he was talking to you earlier. “Is he the one hurting you?”

“N-no, dad, please,” you cried out, your heart ripping itself apart-- the scene was so familiar, so familiar, “he’s different.”

“That’s what they want you to believe,” your dad had fully aimed at Changbin and you looked at the boy, who didn’t even seem afraid, “but that’s not who they are.”

Just as your dad pulled the trigger, you pushed his hand, hoping the bullet had met the ground. But as you turned your head, your knees wobbled. It had still found Changbin, but instead of lodging itself in his head, it had lodged itself in his abdomen.

“Changbin!” You shouted as you rushed over to him. “Changbin, no.” You applied pressure on his abdomen area and his hands rested on top of yours. “Shit, Changbin, please, stay with me, stay with me.”

“It’s okay, y/n,” he said weakly, “it’s okay. I deserve it. For hurting y-you. L-look at me, please, look at me.”

Even with tears streaming down, you looked at him. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Changbin, I really didn’t mean to.”

His hold on your hand tightened. “You could never hurt me, y/n,” he smiled, “you could never.”

[theyearoftheking]

Book Sixteen: The Talisman

If there were ever the time to lose yourself in a dense, chonky fantasy novel... this is the time. I don’t want to admit how many hours were spent cuddling with my dogs and reading The Talisman this week. It was my favorite way to escape the insanity of the world right now.

To be clear, I don’t believe social distancing, and the cancelling of the entire world is insane. I’m speaking more to the people with their bunkers full of toilet paper and canned pears; stocking up on ammo, preparing to fight their governments. Just... stop. Color some pictures with your kid. Rake your yards. Have a beer and play Scrabble with your spouse. Crack open a book. Live your damn life without fear of what could happen next week! 

Ok, rant over. But seriously, keep washing those hands and social distancing yourselves. 

This was my second read of The Talisman, and it remains one of my all-time favorite books. Not just Steve books, but book-books in general. Like with The Stand, I’m going to give the most abridged, bastardized review ever... because there’s just too much to cram into one post. And I’m not ambitious enough to stretch it into two.  

Jack Sawyer (fun fact, the names of two of my favorite humans... Jack was my Grandfather, and Sawyer is my daughter) finds himself chilling at The Alhambra Inn and Gardens in New Hampshire with his mother, Queen of the B movies, Lily Sawyer. They’re on the run from the incessantly ringing phone, and constant calls from “Uncle” Morgan Sloat, who was Jack’s dead dad’s business partner. Spoiler: Uncle Morgan is a bad man. 

A word about The Alhambra... what initially pulled me into this book was the fact the old, abandoned hotel, beach, boardwalk and amusement park reminded me SO MUCH of Old Orchard Beach, Maine. When Steve (and Pete. I call him Pete) are describing the horses on the carousel, and the rickety old boardwalk, “This is where the world ends, right?” 

All the nostalgic feels of summers spend in OOB on the beach. Reading these pages, I could almost feel the crunchy beach towels, smell clam strips and fried dough, taste the cocktails I smuggle into my not-at-all suspicious Yeti mug... ALL THE FEELS!! 

And now a word about Lily Sawyer. One of the most memorable details about Lily is her “elementary martini,” which I will now describe for anyone who might need a cocktail during these challenging times. I’m pretending to be a homeschooling mom, so I’m going to take a hard pass. But we have Facetime Cocktail Time with friends tonight, so I might have to have one then. 

“Ice in a glass. Olive on ice. Tanqueray gin over olive... Then, you take a bottle of vermouth- any brand- and hold it against the glass. Then you put the vermouth back on the shelf and bring the glass to me.” 

Lily is spending a lot of time in bed, avoiding the phone, and fighting some kind of illness, which leaves Jack to his own devices. One day while Jack is out exploring, he makes the acquaintance of one Speedy Parker, the maintenance man at the amusement park. Speedy refers to Jack as, “Travelin’ Jack” which is what Jack’s dad used to call him when he was younger. But it’s more than just a cute nickname, it refers to the fact Jack can travel between our world, and The Territories, a Game of Thrones-esque medieval world. Speedy explains Laura DeLoessian, the Queen of the Territories is dying, and only Jack can save her by rescuing The Talisman. Laura is Lily Sawyer’s doppelganger, and if Jack saves Laura, he can also save his sick mother. Jack’s reluctant, but knows he has no other choice. Speedy hands him a vial of mysterious traveling juice that allows Jack to travel between worlds, and he’s off.

The journey is a long one, and filled with some of the best characters ever, as well as some of the worst baddies. And all their Territories doppelgangers. I’m not going to lie, it’s a lot of people to keep track of. No shade if you need to develop a spreadsheet to keep track of everyone. The OCD freak in me immediately regrets NOT creating a spreadsheet... 

My hands-down favorite character (other than Jack Sawyer) is Wolf, a well, Wolf, that Jack meets in The Territories. When they are under attack from Morgan Sloat’s Territories Twin, Jack flips him and Wolf into our world. Wolf does not adjust well. He hates the way everything smells, he can’t be in a confined space, and oh! I forgot to mention... he’s also a werewolf. I’ll talk more about Wolf’s character arch later on when I get to Sunshine Gardener. 

Everyone loves an evil character, and The Talisman has no shortage of them. My favorite Talisman baddies included Smokey Updike and Sunshine Gardener, 

Smokey owns Updike’s Oatley Tap, and hires Jack to come and work for him. Jack is on the move across the country, and needs some cash in his pocket for food and shoes... because he’s been wearing them out an alarming rate. Walking across the country will do that to you. But the fact Smokey would hire a CHILD to haul beer kegs, and mop up vomit in bathrooms pretty much tells you what kind of winner he really is. To add to his charm, he has Jack sleep on a concrete floor, slaps him around, and deducts room and board from the meager amount he pays him every week. And he threatens Jack with calling the cops and reporting him as a runaway if he tries to leave. Jack can’t have that happen. His evil Uncle Morgan knows he’s flipping between worlds, and doesn’t want Jack to get The Talisman, so he’s in pursuit of his quasi-nephew. Sooo basically Smokey’s got Jack as an indentured servant. He’s charming. One night, Jack can’t take the vomit coated floors anymore, and takes off into the night, with the help of Speedy’s traveling juice. Adios, Oatley! 

Sunshine Gardener... there’s a villain who makes Smokey look like someone’s cuddly uncle. Sunshine is a televangelist who also runs Sunlight Home for wayward boys. Sunshine has a sweet deal going: local cops pick up runaway boys, and the judge sentences them to a stay at Sunlight Home. They get paid under the table for adding to the flock, and Sunshine gets to write it off on his taxes every year. Or something like that. He’s obsessed with Jack, and swears they’ve met before (they have. In The Territories. But Jack isn’t about to tell him that). He (and his little band of assholes) proceed to torture Jack, and try to get the truth out of him. Jack resists. Eventually, he and Wolf are caught in the bathrooms, trying to flip over to The Territories. They put Wolf in a coffin-like box in the backyard, where he eventually transforms into a werewolf and kills (almost) everyone in a bloody rage, before he’s shot. I’m not ashamed to admit I cried as Wolf died in Jack’s arms, telling him, “I...kept...my...herd...safe...” 

Yep, I’m bawling all over again. The concept of keeping the herd safe is so important right now. I want to kill these asshole kids on spring break, wanting to live their best life ever. Stop it, you entitled little bitches! Help to keep your herd safe! Social distancing won’t kill you! As my little family is tucked in with a refrigerator and freezer full of food, board games and books on the shelves, and a full wine cellar, all I can think about is keeping my herd safe. Ain’t nothing bringing me out of my house! Except my asshole beagle, who needs two walks a day, to prevent her from eating my dresser. 

Ultimately, Jack outsmarts his Uncle Morgan, gets The Talisman, this glowing ball of light from The Black Hotel; all the baddies get theirs, and Jack heals both his mother and Laura. And they all live happily ever after. Well, until Black House. But that’s a long ways off. 

The entire book is brilliant, and exactly the escape I needed. Steve and Pete are a lethal combination; they successfully weave together horror and fantasy, making you feel Jack’s struggle as if it were your own. You can tell they’re both students of the great Ray Bradbury, they write about the echos between worlds, which mirrored A Sound of Thunder. “...it suggested that just by being over here he could be doing something terrible in the other world. Starting World War III? No, probably not. He hadn’t assassinated any kings lately, young or old. But how much had it taken to set up the echo?” 

Also, their author photo cracks me up. It looks like an IBM promotional shot from the 1980′s or something. 

There were no Wisconsin references, but the book was one, big, underlying Dark Tower reference. There was talk of trains (Blaine, y’all!). Jake and his friend Richard refer to each other as chums (lobstrosities... shudder!). A building named Rainbird Towers collapses (collapsing towers. Duh). I can’t wait to get to the other books in the series. 

Total Wisconsin Mentions: 14

Total Dark Tower References: 10

Book Grade: A+

Rebecca’s Definitive Ranking of Stephen King Books

The Talisman: A+

Different Seasons: A+

The Shining: A-

The Stand: A-

The Dead Zone: B+

‘Salem’s Lot: B+

Carrie: B+

Creepshow: B+

Cycle of the Werewolf: B-

Danse Macabre: B-

The Gunslinger: C+

Pet Sematary: C+

Firestarter: C+

Cujo: C-

Nightshift: C-

Christine: D

Next up is Skeleton Crew. We all know how I feel about short stories, but it might be a nice palate cleanser after the denseness (is that a word? Spellcheck didn’t flag it, so we’re going to go with YES) that was The Talisman. 

Long Days & Pleasant Nights, Rebecca

[afinepricklypear]

Mother’s Day and Mental Health Awareness Month

**Warning - This post talks about depression, mental disorder, and an attempted suicide. Please do not read if you are sensitive to these topics. The events described here are real and true to the best of my memory.**

I went to make a post May 1st and Tumblr was kind enough to inform me that May is Mental Health Awareness month. It isn’t without irony for me that Mental Health Awareness month occurs the same month as Mother’s Day.

My relationship with my mother is a difficult topic, it’s usually only one I can talk about with my sisters, but it’s this time of year that people most want to talk about moms. When I was younger, I didn’t know what to say when people brought up their moms and mom-like behavior in general, mostly foreign concepts to me. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned I don’t have to say anything at all, like in my work meeting this morning when our supervisor reminded us all to call our mom’s this weekend, you know, “if they’re still alive”, since most of our department are near retiring age, but I don’t always know how to feel. Here comes the guilt: do I call, do I text, do I take the risk that she’ll be in a good mood or will she turn it around, again, like the year I sent her a gift and she used my gesture as ammo to attack my “ungrateful” older sister that’s still trying to untangle her own complicated relationship with our mother. I’m ten again, twelve again, sixteen again, walking on eggshells around a house where the air is so thick with the constant fog of her misery, I can’t see farther than a minute into my future.

There were good moments, of course, like any home. She was always the more encouraging parent when it came to my writing, my father would pick it all apart – in the long run, both approaches helped me become a better writer. There was the time she was given two tickets to see Mama Mia at the casino where she dealt, and she chose to take me. We got dressed up, she leant me this white faux fur jacket and some of her jewelry, curled my hair and did my make-up, she was riding high on her emotions. She took me to a fancy dinner at the Hard Rock Café before the show. We didn’t get spoiled often, and to this day, Mama Mia and ABBA hold a special place in my heart. I always think of her singing along to the radio in the car, she has a nice voice, and maybe in another life, she could’ve been a singer.

There were moments when she was trying to be sweet and it still leaves me with conflicted emotions. Like the time the German shepherd she took off the hands of a coworker who was afraid of him violently attacked me. She bandaged me up, laid in bed with me and comforted me, it’s the most motherly I ever remember her being. She kept the dog for a while after that, I still have scars on both my arms from the attack, I’ll have them the rest of my life, just like my little sister will still have her scars from when it attacked her, and my friend who came to visit will still have the scar it gave her…my older sister was only lucky that it was muzzled when it went for her face. My mother was convinced she had a special connection with this dog, that in his heart of hearts he believed he was protecting her, so I get it, she didn’t want to get rid of something that she felt loved her unconditionally.

Sometimes it’s hard to conjure these kinder memories, they become overwhelmed with the harder, darker ones that feel infinitely more numerous. There are the moments that seem innocuous, when you could say I was acting a spoiled child, like the time I was in middle school and I wanted to keep my hair long, but my mother decided I needed bangs. My dad tried to stop it, but she had made up her mind. I cried and pleaded with her but she commanded the reluctant stylist to chop the hair off. Armed with a brush and blow-dryer, she attempted to show me “it was cute” that night and things escalated to the point my dad and older sister were stepping in, arguing with my mom to let me be. I went back to that same hair stylist with my friend who was getting her hair cut the next day, and the stylist apologized, confessed that she didn’t want to cut my hair, told me it was so healthy and beautiful too, and she felt terrible doing it. Years later, when I was an adult and decided to cut my hair short with sideswept bangs, my mother would throw this memory back in my face, “sure, now you want bangs”, still incapable of understanding that it wasn’t about her, but about me wanting to define my own body and style. She did the same to my older sister in high school, dyed her hair blonde – it took so much bleach to lighten her naturally dark hair color that the hair looked fried afterwards and we were all amazed it didn’t fall out. Never mind that my older sister never wanted blonde hair to begin with, it was antithetical to her personality, and she won’t even go near the hair dye aisle now.

There are the moments where my mom was so unreasonable that everyone felt helpless, like the day I was alone in my room, my sisters in the living room talking and watching television – doing I don’t know what – and my mom was sleeping in her room because she worked graveyard shift at this time. Suddenly, inexplicably, my mom came into my room in a rage, “how dare you call your little sister stupid,” she scolded me, she continued to berate me for being cruel and mean, even as I told her, baffled, I didn’t know what she was talking about, even as my sisters argued with her, “no one called anyone stupid. She wasn’t even in the room with us.” My mother wouldn’t listen, she knew what she heard, she grounded me and, matter settled, left back to bed. My dad got home from work not long after, and I was in my room still bawling, inconsolable and unable to work out what I’d done wrong. He asked my sisters why I was crying and they explained, and, again, my mom comes storming in my room yelling, “how dare you tattle on me to your dad!” I don’t remember much of what happened from there, my dad stepped in, they argued the rest of the night, and he would later assure me I wasn’t grounded. It was the only thing he could undo from that day.

There are other, harder to define moments. The nights my mom would argue with my dad, we’d be in bed, school in the morning, and she’d turn on all our bedroom lights, rip the covers off our beds, and scream at us to get out of her house, that she was putting us all out on the streets and it was our father’s fault. I remember vividly the fight between my parents that happened in the day, everyone awake in the house, I collapsed in the kitchen as my mother ranted that we all hated her so she should leave and we won’t have to deal with her anymore, and I cried and trembled, overwhelmed with the thought, I don’t want anyone to leave, I don’t want to lose my family. I had to get out, so I did, walked right out of the house, not sure where I’d go, and my mother panicked and raced after me, put an arm over my shoulders, coaxed me back to the house. The moment the door closed; she was yelling at us again for not loving her enough and I realized I couldn’t leave, I was trapped. There was the gambling addiction, every Christmas we would be prepared, “mom lost a lot of money at the casino last night, we might not have a Christmas this year” – we had learned not to expect anything anyways and that every gift came with a quid pro quo and years of ‘remember I did this for you’. My older sister and her then-boyfriend, now-husband, watched my mom gamble away more than a month’s mortgage and spend the entire night chasing it back.

I’m thinking about all of this more recently, I think, since I started writing some fanfics for the Bungou Stray Dogs community. One of the main characters of the show is named after and inspired by author, Dazai Osamu, a man that died prematurely from a double suicide. This is treated tongue-and-cheek by the anime and its original manga through Dazai’s many failed suicide attempts and his odd flirtation strategy of asking ladies to commit double suicide with him. I kind of like this approach to the topic, it might on the surface seem insensitive to make a joke of something so serious as depression, but humor can be therapeutic and give us an easier way to broach otherwise difficult subjects.

I was in high school when my older sister and I were allowed to be in on the conversations about my mother’s mental disorder, both undiagnosed and untreated. We’d all speculate, my father and his sister, my mother’s sister, my sisters and I, the favorite theory was bipolar disorder, but we may never know. My mom refused then and refuses to this day to seek help. There were little things about her past before marrying my dad that we were allowed to know as we got older, too. Like, how she’d been put in a hospital that wanted to keep her there for further treatment – they knew something was wrong but didn’t know what, this was during a time when bipolar disorder was unheard of and they called similar diagnoses ‘manic depression’ – and she had to threaten legal action to get released. When she was eighteen, she had married a man knowing he had a terminal illness in order to help him get his green card, he died two years later, and she still considers him the great love of her life. We’re told by the media, movies like A Walk to Remember, that this is romantic, but in reality, it’s an unhealthy fixation on a relationship that was doomed from the start. She idolizes the memory of it, puts it on a pedestal as the standard for all of her other relationships to compare to, but it isn’t realistic. It was a relationship with a known expiration date, it wasn’t a real commitment, nothing had to matter because it would all come to an end soon, and they never reached the hard parts of a marriage – children, growing old, changing bodies, financial struggles, loss and disagreement. She went through a deep depression after he died and it reached a point that her sister had her placed on a suicide watch and thus began her long and sordid history of depression.

There are a lot of fanfics in the BSD community that explore a darker tone to Dazai’s depression, to varying degrees of accuracy. I mostly steer clear of them. There is one writer in the community that I won’t name, they’re an amazing writer with beautiful technical skill, and they do an impeccable job of showing depression exactly as it is for those who live it and those who live with a person that suffers from it. I left a one-word comment on one of their stories, the only positive thing I could say, and I couldn’t write anymore without the comment turning into an emotional lecture, I don’t know that author’s personal emotional state, but I also won’t read any more from them. It wasn’t the accurate depiction of depression that turned me off from the story, but the depiction of Dazai’s depression being known by all the characters in the story, including himself, but he won’t seek treatment for it, and all of the characters are shown to enable his depression and put up with his abuses that stem from his disorder. In the story he was placed in an intimate relationship with the character, Chuuya, and Chuuya is painted as the patron saint of boyfriends, willing to overlook Dazai’s every episode, draw him back from the ledge and bandage up his scars with an endless patience and gentleness. I couldn’t move passed the romanticizing of this relationship dynamic. Chuuya is shown to be noble and celebrated for his self-sacrifice and unconditional love that compels him to stay beside Dazai despite everything Dazai inflicts upon himself and Chuuya, and more importantly, despite Dazai’s refusal to get treatment.  

My mother’s emotional state was constantly our responsibility growing up. She was sad because we didn’t love her. She was angry because we were ungrateful. She was miserable because we couldn’t see all that she did for us. If she hurt us with her words, if she lashed out at us irrationally, it was our fault, because we didn’t do everything right. Never mind that what was right could change within a minute in a day. Too often when someone in your life is suffering from a mental disorder, you’re made to shoulder the blame, either unintentionally by them as they suffer from their illness or intentionally by well-meaning individuals outside of the situation that don’t know better: you just need to give them love. If they take their own life, it’s your fault, you didn’t love them enough.

It was the Friday before Mother’s Day, I was in my early twenties, finishing up my degree in Anthropology (after changing my major, I don’t know how many times). My parents were long since divorced and my mom lived alone in the house where I grew up, still shrouded in all of those dark memories. My mother’s sister had recently left town after a short visit, she had called me a few days earlier to let me know my mother lost her job  that week and was struggling to get out of the depression. In retrospect, she’d been sinking for a while now, after the violent dog and so many other incidents like it left us all with too many scars to overlook and we didn’t know how to walk back into that house, how to feel safe there. She’d covered herself in tattoos, cut her hair short, wore different wigs to work every day, she’d gained a lot of weight and was chain smoking so much there was a permanent haze in the house. None of these things should be thought of as red flags for everyone, it should be taken on an individual basis, but for my mother they were all signs that she was spiraling. She didn’t like who she saw in the mirror and was desperately trying to cover it up, find someone she did like. I had promised her I would come over, make her a dinner for Mother’s Day, and I would take her to see a movie. I was on my phone with my aunt when I pulled up, snowballing ideas for what to do if things got serious and if we needed to think about placing her on a suicide watch, how that would work. I rang the doorbell; it was outside of the gate she put around the front yard for her dogs to go in the front yard.

No answer.

Rang it again.

Still no answer.

She knew I was coming over.

I opened the gate, went to the door, the door was cracked open, my aunt was on the phone in my ear, “what’s going on?” I opened the door fully and my mom’s dogs came to greet me. The house was in disarray, furniture toppled over, papers scattered across the floor, so many of the details are blurred out of memory, I remember distinctly a ceramic statue broken on the floor but I couldn’t tell you what it was a statue of. I could hear a low intermittent moan coming from farther in the house. I followed it down the hall to my mother’s room, into her bathroom, where she was collapsed, naked, on the floor of her shower.

I told my aunt I had to go, I hung up and dialed 911. In the moment, I didn’t know how panicked I really was, my voice unnaturally high, my body warm and shaking and electric with adrenaline. That feeling hits me again, sometimes, when I don’t expect it. There was white like foam around my mother’s mouth, her eyes stared wide and blank at the ceiling, her every breath was that guttural moan as she attempted to draw air in, an autonomic action, she was completely unresponsive. Her body was on autopilot, and so was mine. I’d been rehearsing for a long time what to do in that situation, it’s the only way I made it through everything that needed to be done. I gave the dispatcher the address, answered her questions, “I think she did something to herself but I don’t know what…no, there’s no pills nearby…no, I don’t see anything in the trash…she’s been severely depressed…she has a history of depression…”, between pleading with my mom, “please don’t leave me, please stay with me, mom,” and wrestling her dogs into the front yard and out of the house. The dispatcher told me the ambulance was on its way and asked if I wanted her to stay on the line and I begged her not to hang up, not to leave me with nothing but the moans of my dying mother, she didn’t say anything during that time, was just silently present as I talked to my mom and waited for the paramedics. They couldn’t come in until I got the dogs out back, I cursed and screamed at the unruly mongrels and felt an irrational anger that my mom never got them properly trained.

I took a seat in the kitchen, let the paramedics work and my brain shut down. I called my aunt back, told her what happened. The paramedics came to ask me questions, I tried to answer them but I didn’t know and my aunt was correcting me over the phone, so I handed her over and let her talk to them. They took my mother away to the hospital and I was alone, in that childhood house, that held so many horrible memories of my mother’s untreated disorder, and every aspect of our lives that it colored and perverted. Every Mother’s Day was always fraught with anxiety, I think it was my mother’s least favorite day, her mood was always sour, and no matter what we gave her or tried to do for her, it wasn’t enough. Even the year before, the Mother’s Day when she told us exactly what to get her. She was so happy with her present, a sterling silver ring with our birthstones imbedded that cost us all a pretty penny – I was paying my own way through college, my older sister was paying rent on a Starbucks salary, and my little sister didn’t have a job – but a week later we were ungrateful brats again. There was one Mother’s Day when I was maybe ten or eleven, we’d set her up roses and two cards – one from my father and one from her daughters. I was watching television and waiting for her to come home from work to wish her a happy Mother’s Day. She came in and years of practice had taught me to recognize she was in a dark mood, a cigarette on her lip, her posture tense, muttering under her breath about how nobody loved her, nobody cared. She stalked to the desk, ripped the cards in half without opening them and threw them on the ground in front of me without sparing me one glance or word, and stormed to her room, slammed the door behind her.

We would later find out that my mother drank antifreeze, a method that has about a 5% survival rate. She was in a coma for about a month. It was another few weeks before they took the respirator tube out and her throat recovered enough that she could talk in small sentences, and not without effort and pain. She told us she filled a cup with the antifreeze, showed us with her fingers set apart how high she’d put it in the glass, when she finished, she washed the cup and stuck it in the dishwasher, hiding the evidence. She’d always heard antifreeze was flavorless but it tasted awful – they add flavoring to antifreeze to deter people from accidentally ingesting it. She’d thought it would be quick, but it’s really an excruciatingly painful and long, drawn out way to die. She’d stripped in her deliria and taken a shower because her body felt so awful, feverish and almost on fire, as it was shutting down and her nerves fried from the chemical reaction. I wrestled for a long time with the ethical delimma of my choices in that moment after finding her, and there was a thought that stuck with me through it all: What did I get my mother for Mother’s Day? I saved her life, and it was still the wrong gift.

It isn’t noble or romantic to stay with someone who refuses to get professional treatment for their mental disorder. There is no amount of love or patience or understanding that will heal them. In most situations, the harder and braver thing to do is walk away. None of us is a perfect person and none of us should have to bear the burden of another person’s unwillingness to get help when they need it. It took me a long time to come to terms with the notion that there is no one to blame in this situation. It isn’t my fault that I can’t give my mother the love she craves. It isn’t my mother’s fault that she can’t see the love that her daughters wanted to give her. But it is her responsibility to get help. If she refuses help, no one can force it on her.

It’s been years now since this happened. My mother is now as recovered as she’ll ever be. Her mind isn’t as sharp, and she struggles with controlling her muscles and the devastating damage to her nervous system that will never fully heal. She remains undiagnosed and is not receiving any kind of professional guidance or treatment. There have been new, dark memories, added to the old ones, in those times when we tried to be supportive and “there for her” during her recovery. Episodes that remind us she doesn’t want to change and she never will. So, we keep our interactions to a minimum, answer when she texts, try to help her when she asks for it, check in every so often. She lives on the other side of the country with two cats and goes regularly to the neighborhood karaoke bar. In a weird way, she seems happier with this set up, this distance between her and all of the pain that my sisters and I seemed to bring her, that constant demand for love that we couldn’t fulfill, maybe it really was all our fault and we were the ones to blame, or maybe it’s because I’m not living with her depression anymore.

I don’t know if I’ll call my mother on Mother’s Day, but for anyone else out there with a complicated relationship with their mother, it’s okay if you decide not to call your mother either.

[batfamily-trash]

Missing You

Summary; you are/were Damian’s girlfriend and you have powers. You can fly and you also have the canary cry. You are not affiliated with Superman, Wonder Woman, or Black Canary.

Warning: Death, angst???,  language

y/n l/n. The A+ student of Gotham Academy. s/h/n. The girl that could fly. Juggling your superhero life and your normal life was a tad bit complicated. Why? Well, you were Damian Wayne’s girlfriend and the press LOVED to be all up in your face. Asking questions about your private life and what not. Damian hated it, but you were okay with it as long as they didn’t ask anything that would set him off. Which was almost impossible. But you know, you can fly away from your problems.

But, today it was Damian who set you off. He had invited you to a gala his father was hosting and it was marvelous. Chandeliers were glistening, the room was adorned with flowers from the garden, everything was just amazing. You and Damian were dancing to the music and enjoying the moment. When the song ended, Damian was pulled away by his brothers, and you were pulled away for a moment by Diana Prince and Dinah Lance. They knew about your powers and they wanted to help you train more. Basically, they wanted you to be their sidekick. But you were content being in Gotham with the Bat and his Batlings.

You declined their offer and began to look for your beloved boyfriend. Five minutes later you found him all right. You found him with your ‘friends’ all up in his face with their hands wandering around his body, and he didn’t do anything about it. He seemed to… enjoy it. Then out of nowhere your so called best friend kissed him. You took a step towards them but decided against it. You ran out of the building as tears began to build up in your eyes. Things that you have never thought before began to cross your mind now. Has he been cheating on you all this time? Was he with you just because you were useful in the battlefield? Was he just using you?

You heard Damian shouting your name as you ran further away from the gala. A moment later he caught up with you. He grabbed your elbow and pulled you towards him. “y/n, stop.”

“Why Damian? Why should I stop?” you asked while struggling to get out of his grasp.

“Beloved…”

“Don’t you beloved me!” you shouted. “Why would you cheat on me?!?”

“Y/n I… I wasn’t cheating…”

“Oh so if I go kiss Jon while dating you it wouldn’t be considered cheating?!?! You kissed my best friend!”

“Fine, you want to know why. It wasn’t working out with us,” he said abruptly letting you go. “The only reason why I was dating you was because you were of good use to me, nothing more!”

You took a step back, and let his words sink in. You wiped away the tears raining down from your face and fixed your dress. “Fine, we are over. Tell Bruce I’m out.” With that, you flew away from him and the gala.

10 years passed since you last talked to Damian with feeling. Now, every time you would talk to him, your voice would be empty of emotion. If you could you would avoid the living the hell out of him, but you were an important business woman in Gotham. Your company would help Wayne Tech come up with new ideas for technology.

It still hurt seeing Damian, but what hurt, even more, was that he had tried to apologize more than once, but you just couldn’t accept it. The feelings you still had for Damian were still alive and killing you, slowly. You missed him, and you were going to set things right.

You had a… friend who loved messing around with the timeline just to piss off people and when you told them that you wanted to go back and warn your younger self about your relationship with Damian, they agreed. They only agreed because you were annoying them. And because they hated seeing you suffer, but mostly because you were annoying to them.

They took you took you back two weeks before the gala. So exactly 10 years and two weeks. Your dear time traveling friend forgot to tell you WHERE in between those two weeks they were ditching you. They dropped you off in your old bedroom, at midnight, exactly the time you would either be arriving from patrol or leaving for patrol. So when you realized you were in your old room, you were fighting your younger self.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?!?” Mini you shouted at you.

“Maybe if you stop throwing cheap batarangs and books at me I’ll tell you!”

Mini you stopped throwing things but stayed in a fighting stance, waiting for the reason why you were in ‘her’ room. You fixed your clothes and picked up a picture that had ‘fallen’ and studied it before tossing it to mini you. “I… Batman sent me.”

“Batman sent you?”

“Uh yeah, Robin had something to do and he wouldn’t be able to join you during patrol.”

Mini you glared at you and turned on her heel and stomped towards the window. “I don’t trust you, but since I do need help I won’t complain.

”Oh thank god,” you mumbled to yourself.“

What was that?”

“Nothing lets go.” You followed yourself out of the room and flew behind her to a warehouse. You remembered that mission. Bruce had sent you to investigate an arms deal that was happening. You almost died there.

You and uh, you, landed by a window and peered into the warehouse. There were about twenty armed men and about 40 billion dollars worth of guns and ammo all over the place.

“I was thinking we sneak in, Mariah Carey they’re asses and call the cops,” younger you said with confidence.

“What do mean by Mariah Carey?”

“Canary Cry.”

“Okay… but wouldn’t it be more like Brendon Urie?”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mini you said rolling her eyes. The both of you took a step back and prepared to bust in. Since you didn’t tell mini you that you were her from the future you covered your ears to not blow your cover. A minute later glass exploded everywhere and the both of you flew into the warehouse dodging bullets.

The both of you managed to take down the majority of the henchmen. You turned around looking for mini you when you noticed that Rusty, the arms dealer for the Penguin, was aiming at her. Just as he pulled the trigger you flew towards her and pushed her out of the way.

Back home, your ‘friend’ had told Damian of your little adventure. He didn’t take it well. Oh no, he actually threatened and paid your friend to take him to the same time period you were in right now. But by the time he arrived, it was too late.

You felt the bullet pierce your stomach just as you got y/n to move. You let out a last canary cry at Rusty making him drop his weapon and crouch in pain as he flew towards the wall. y/n shouted at you as you fell to the ground. She moved you onto your back and covered the bullet wound as she yelled at your stupidness.

“Why?!?!”

“Because… I had to… If you died… there wouldn’t be a future… for me… just go… live your life… I… i’ll be fine…”

y/n stood up and looked down at you with tears in her eyes. You gave her a small smile as you covered the bullet wound with your own hand. You saw as she left to finish the mission, you also saw a bright flash coming from in front of you.

“Dami…” You whispered as your eyes closed and you fell into a deep sleep.

–

Damian stepped out of the portal into the warehouse. He looked around for you, hoping to stop you from whatever you were going to do. The minute he found you, he broke down crying. “No, no no no no, beloved I’m sorry, I’m sorry I let them all over me. I’m sorry for not really telling you how I felt…. I’m sorry….”

Two weeks later…

A tall dark figure stands in the corner of a room admiring a picture. A young Damian Wayne enters the room with Titus and Ace in tow. Damian glances up from his phone and immediately gets in a fighting pose. “Who are you?” he hissed.

The figure puts the picture down and stands in front of the boy. “You tell me.”

Damian let his fighting stance down as his loyal dogs walked up to the stranger and playfully pawed at him.

“Why are you here?”

“To advise you to not let y/n’s so-called friends near you.”

“Why?”

“Because it just might be the biggest regret you’ll ever make.” And with that, a portal opened as the figure walked into the shadows. Damian stood in his room dumbfounded by this encounter as the portal closed.

Back to the future….

Damian woke up in his room in Wayne Manor with a slight headache. He got off the bed and began to look for you. When he couldn’t find you, disappointment began to fill his head. Did he fail? Did he still let you go?

His thought were interrupted when he heard the front door open. He ran down the stairs as he heard your sweet voice. “I’m so sorry Dami, I was getting groceries right after I dropped off the kids from school and my phone died—“

You were cut off by a very passionate kiss, and a crying Damian. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”

I was gone only for an hour… You brushed it off and dropped the bags and hugged him back. “It’s okay, I’m not going anywhere…”

[trashcanband4]

Father Daughter Duo Ch.2

Chapter 1 Chapter 3  Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

Chapter Title: Traveling. Pairing: Eventual Daryl x Oc. Setting: Before the Prison, still not into the story line of the tv show. Word Count: 2,375. Warnings: attempted rape in this chapter and rape in a future chapter along with other messed up situations. You have been warned. Note: Also another crap/builder chapter.

I had always been attached to my dad. Even though I never went hunting with him or even participated in target practice. I was always around him, always there to hand him tools when he needed them or hold the flashlight as he worked on his truck, Old Red, that he tried his best to keep in good condition even though we never seemed to have enough money to buy the parts that he needed. I was always quiet and always did what I was asked. He was a hard, stern, and short tempered man, but he had his small ways of showing how much he cared. When my mother died and the world pretty much came to an end it only made his fuse that much shorter.

So when we figured out that the place in Atlanta that was supposed to be safe was a danger zone we set out together in search of living people. We found some in an old nursing home. Most of them were Mexican and were always speaking Spanish, but they welcomed us when they figured out that we weren't there to take their weapons and medical supplies. The fact that we had raided a small sporting goods store helped, because they needed all the protection they could get. We stayed there for quite a while and had I started to come out of my shy shell. I was getting to know the people. Surprisingly Dad had too, even though he had always been a bit racist.

Guillermo, the leader of the group, and I had became friends and he had even started teaching me how to speak Spanish when ever we had the time. My dad kept telling me that I needed to be learning how to defend myself and not useless stuff like learning a different language, but at that time I felt safe enough not to bother with gun lessons.

"Usted es un hombre guapo" Guillermo told me to say it so I tried to mimic his perfect accent. I guess I got it right because he flashed his perfect teeth at me in a big smile. "You're not so bad looking yourself." I blushed and looked at myself. I was nothing special. My dishwater brown hair was a mess of waves, there were a few zits on my face, and I had lost a little weight over the past two weeks, but I was still what I liked to call full figured even thought I was a little bigger than that.

I looked up at Guillermo feeling the heat on my cheeks as he put his hand on my face. The nice warmth of his skin against mine didn't last long though, because we heard my dad clear his throat from the door way of the storage room we were working in. His eyes were hard as he grabbed me by the arm and gently pulled me out into the hallway.

"Ya can't trust guys around ya like that baby girl. Yer twenty years old ya should know that men are gonna try to take advantage of ya." I shocked myself when I rolled my eyes at him. "I don't think he's that kind of guy, but still, don't be alone with him from now on ok?"

"Yeah, ok." He was about to walk away. "Hey Dad?" he turned around and looked at me with the usual hard expression he wore on his face now days. "Wanna teach me how to use this thing?" I held up the gun and he nodded. We were walking down the hallway when we heard everyone screaming. The nursing home had somehow been over run. There is no doubt that I would have died that day if it wasn't for my dad. My back was against the wall, literally, and a walker was at my front as I screamed and struggled to hold it off of me. Dad swooped in, shot the walker with his shot gun and shoved me to the back door of the building. We ran and jumped into Old Red and left the city for good. Soon we were driving through a little town that I wasn't familiar with and neither of us had spoken since we left the massacre of the old group. "Hey Dad," I broke the silence and he hummed at me letting me know he was listening. "Thanks for saving me back there."

"Yer my daughter, I'll always save ya." I was quiet again for a while.

"Hey Dad," he hummed again. "I love ya."

"I love ya too Bay." After that he started explaining everything about the guns as we drove. He taught me what bullet went with what gun and how to load and clean all of them. Though, he told me not to try cleaning the gun unless he was there to help me, because it was a bit complicated.

It took us a month of traveling to find the next group and I knew the second we were easily welcomed into the creepy church that we wouldn't be staying there for long. To say the people that inhabited the place were over religious would be an understatement. They were dead set on repopulating the earth. All the females of "eligible age", which from what I could tell was 14 years old, were pregnant and all of the men were pigs. The leader of the group insisted that I wear the same drab pastel colored home sewn dresses of all the other women and that I give my gun and knife to my father. I did as I was asked because these were, after all, living people.

It was our second week there and I was sleeping on a twin sized cot in a spare room of the church when I felt my covers move. A hand covered my mouth stifling my scream as a guy slipped into my bed. "Shush." The man who whispered to me flipped me over onto my back. The face of Matt, one of the younger men in the group who was with a woman who was seven months pregnant with his baby, was above my face. I struggled to get away from him, but he got on top of me and held me down. "Time to have some fun." He never took his hand off of my mouth. I was hitting him and pushing at him with my free hand but it was pointless. "Don't act like you don't want me. I see the way you look at me." He removed his hand from my mouth only to replace it with his mouth and force his tongue onto mine. He tasted disgusting, but the revolting taste was soon replaced by the coppery one of blood because I caught his tongue between my teeth and bit down as hard as I could. He screamed and slapped me and I took the opportunity to scream my head off in hopes that my dad would hear me.

The next thing I knew Matt was being pulled up off of me. The sickening crunch of a bone being broken mixed together with a scream and a thud as Matt hit the nearby brick wall. Dad grabbed my hand and pulled me up out of the bed then stuffed all my things into my bag and tossed it to me. We made a quick stop by his room where we grabbed all of his things and he shoved a gun into my hand. "We're getting' out of here. These people are batshit crazy. I ain't havin' some kid tryin' nock up my Bailey bug." He hadn't called me that in a long time. We snuck out of the church through the back door then once again hopped into Old Red and were on the road again.

A week later we were scavenging through a store miles away from Atlanta when we heard the bell above the door ring followed by heavy footsteps that could only belong to men. Dad pulled me down behind the cash register. I looked at him waiting to know what we were supposed to do. He looked at me with the same light blue eyes that were on my face and held his finger over his mouth. "That little red head's a nice piece of ass. What are we going to do with her when we're done?" I heard a cheerful male voice ask.

"What we did with all the rest, kill her." Another man who replied sounded completely disinterested in the question. I looked at Dad with wide eyes. I knew what the men were talking about and I was afraid that my fate would be the same if we didn't make it out of this. He held his hand out palm down and made a motion like he was bouncing a ball, 'stay calm'. I took a quiet and slow deep breath before I nodded. He looked at the gun in my hands, which I had gotten good at shooting over the days of traveling and scavenging, and raised his eyebrows. 'Are you good on ammo?' I nodded my head again and he looked around the cash register quickly taking a peek at the men then continued our silent conversation. I was supposed to shoot the man on the left and he was supposed to shoot the man on the right. He held up three fingers and began counting down. As soon as the last finger went down we popped up from behind the register and shot them both. Dad landed a shot straight to a severely plump mans forehead and my bullet hit a man with a bald head and dark goatee in the shoulder.

We hightailed it back to the truck dodging bullets from other men we didn't know were outside. It was a miracle that we got out of there unharmed. After that we stuck to scavenging random houses in rural areas. This was fine with me, because Dad being the kind to think ahead, gathered things like seeds, tools, and what ever guns and ammo he might find. I, on the other hand, gathered things like clothing, blankets and cooking supplies. I even managed to find some knitting needles and a good supply of yarn. I liked to crochet, knit and almost every thing crafty like that. Before the world went to heck I had started up my own little business selling stuff made out of duct tape. Like flower pens, purses, clutches and wallets. Everyone always thought these were useless skills that were only good for lazy antisocial people. Well, they were wrong.

Anyway, we had been staying in an abandoned farm house out in the woods for a while, because the walker population here seemed minimal and we were tired of sleeping in Old Red. I was sitting by one of the widows watching for my father when he came walking up the rotting porch steps with his newly found compound bow and two squirrels in hand. I wrinkled my nose as I walked out on the porch and he told me to be thankful for what food I got. "I am thankful, I just like rabbit better." He laughed.

"That's my girl." He smiled at me and squeezed my shoulder approvingly. "The only wild animal your mother would eat was deer." I looked at the floor missing my mom and neither of us said anything after that. Dad just skinned and cleaned the squirrel then I cooked it on the gas stove that was in the house. We had just finished eating the bland meat when Dad broke the silence. "I saw a prison when I was huntin' earlier. The place was swarming with walkers, just roaming around, trapped in the fences. I would say I felt sorry for them, but they were all inmates." I thought about what he was saying wondering how the prisoners would have gotten infected if they were all kept in cells.

The little farm house was fine, but we were running out of places to scavenge and gas for the truck was getting scarce. We were constantly having to run from the dead as well as the living. Him mentioning the fences gave me an idea. "Hey Dad." He looked up from the knife he was sharpening. "What if we could kill all of the eaters in the prison and live there from now on?"

"Are you serious?" he had his eyebrows raised at me and a joking look on his face.

"Yeah from the way you talk just camping in the yard would be better protection than staying here. If those fences can hold in that many walkers it could hold them out too, right?" he seemed to think about it for a while.

"We will check it out in the morning. Right now you just go get some sleep. I'll stay and watch out for another one of those herds." I did as he said and went into the bedroom and went to sleep.

Dad woke me up around two in the morning, judging from the battery powered clock on the night stand, for me to take watch. The night went by fast in the anticipation of seeing the prison that Dad was talking about. He came out of the house at sunrise and he started putting all the stuff in the truck. "Dad what are you doin'? I thought we were goin' to the prison." I had been anticipating a hike, not a drive.

"We are. I think I know how to get there without cutting' through the woods. If I do find it we can hide the truck there and we wont have to leave it at this house and hike to it every time we need to go somewhere." I didn't say anything back. I just put my gun on the dash and got in the truck.

We drove for a good while and I was starting to wonder if Dad had gotten us lost. I was about to ask him about it when the prison came into sight. I stared open mouthed at it and I heard Dad chuckle from the driver's seat. "Ya still want to live here?" I couldn't speak.

Daryl Tags: @jodiereedus22 @mtngirlforever @zzeacat @winchester-angel@moodygrip @beegnc @hells-mistress @lighthope08 @sapphire1727@luisadontcurr @chloebabyboo @ilkaeliseb @twdeadfanfic @ravengalaxia@1lluminaticonfirmed @my-current-fandom-is @nikkiloves-bailey @coffeebooksandfandom @lonewolf471 @gruffle1 @mblaqgi @calumstuffs@beltzboys2015-blog @neontiger007  @lonewolf471 @sourwolf-sterek32 @dixonluvv @dotslabyrinth @kayln97​ @art-flirt​

[talesofhavekostca-blog]

The Spark

George Danton

January 2nd, 2015

7:36 PM

Havekost, CA

His footsteps echoed along the tunnels. So were mine. I caught up to him and tackled him and he turned to punch me but he just couldn’t and I twist his arm and kept twisting. A crack, a scream, reverbed throughout the tunnel. I screamed at him, “Tell me where the safehouse is! Tell me where Boss Tiberius is!” and he wept and blood, snot, and tears were running and mixing off his face and he starts saying something but hesitates and I punch him again and his nose goes flat and he says,” He’s five miles out, towards Dresden Falls! Oh god please don’t kill me, I got kids, they’re just babies!”

I pull out a knife. 

I don’t want to kill him, I’d hate to know about children living without a father, but my hand is forced. A couple of this guy’s goons blew up a couple of Papa’s businesses and I cut through them to get to this crying, bloodied bastard. I’ll regret it later.

I aim for his throat but I miss and I’ve caught the inside of his cheek instead, the knife goes through butter smooth and he screams louder. I’ve done this a million time but panic anyway and I keep stabbing him in the throat and when the screams finally stop, and the wet gurgles of his death rattle subside, I get up and light a cigarette to regain whatever nerves I had just shot.

“Suit up.” I tell Andre as I walk into our apartment, grabbing body I’d armor left on the table. “You got that bastard?” he says, getting up from the couch. He stretches and lights a cigarette. Andre has been my best friend and partner in crime since we were children. I probably wouldn’t be alive without him.

“Yeah, I had to chase him down to the old tunnel system in Old Town. I saw him and a few goons and I shot the goons but ran out of bullets and had to get personal.” I show him the bloodstains on my shirt and face. He’s tying up his shoes and throws me a towel to wash my face with.

“This Boss Tiberius shit is on my nerves. We should have killed him when we took out his kid at that heroin grab.” Andre says while I change my clothes and rinse off the blood. I say, “Yeah, but that was an accident. I felt kind of bad about that. But we got Baxter to plant evidence on a couple of junkies and we were in the clear. This time, his daughter and a bunch of other mob kids died and now the whole city think we did it. Now it's war all around and there’s nothing we can do about it but kill the bastard before he kills us. Maybe then things will simmer down and we can go back to normal.”

Andre scoffs while putting on his gun holster, the cigarette hanging limply from his mouth, “Dude, listen, there’s no normal for us. We kill people and that's it. That’s our normal.” His cigarette almost falls out of his mouth and he catches it and inhales before continuing, “Why can't we get Baxter to help solve this? He is a private detective for the mob. This is his bread and butter.” 

I’m cleaned up and got the vest on. I grab my jacket and say, “Because he wants nothing to do with us. He’d rather send Whites to slit our throats and bury our bodies than get involved again.”  Andre is waiting for me by the door. I put on a white, unemotional looking mask and he looks at me and says,” Well fuck that then, I hear he eats people.”

In the car on the way there, we go over our supplies. 

“Guns?”

“Check”

“Ammo and knives?”

“Check.”

“Flashbangs and tear gas grenades?”

“Yeah.”

“Badass playlist for the ride over?”

I pause and say, “Uh...my phone is dead, does it matter?”

“How are we supposed to get psyched up?” 

So we keep driving while listening to NPR and the radio host is talking about to an old man who collects novelty lunch boxes of dead superheroes and Andre’s surprisingly down with all of this and when we get there, he doesn’t let me turn off the radio until the segment’s over. When he gets out of the car he says, “I really want an Atlas lunchbox now.” I shake my head and we walk a half-mile to the safehouse.

Boss Tiberius is an older man who came into power in the late eighties. He runs a lot of Havekost; hookers, drugs, people from third world countries, guns, and mail fraud. He’s been one of the biggest and meanest motherfuckers in this town. But he’s old now and he’s outstayed his welcome.

There are guys everywhere. They have pistols and submachine guns. A lot of them have nice suits on and are chatting amongst themselves. I realize a straightforward assault wouldn’t work, too many angles to work out and the vest can take maybe two 45. Caliber shots before becoming useless, and that's if I’m lucky not to get my brains blown out. 

So we go around the ‘safe house’. It’s a mansion, three stories. White, with cream accents. Statues of angels and mythological monsters encircle a fountain. Hedges that make up a maze are well maintained. Guys here too, but there are more blind spots for them to not see us immediately. Andre works his magic and slowly, yet methodically slits the throats of every guy in our way. We hide the bodies in the center of the maze, which can’t be seen unless you were on the third story balcony, even then it's too dark to see the pile of six or seven men from afar.

Andre is a more personal killer than I am. He likes lurking through the shadows and slaying people up close with knives or a broken neck. I don’t know why, and I’m not sure he does either, but Andre’s been dubbed ‘’Acid Fox”. When we were younger, when he first met Baxter, he was given that name by him. I wasn’t there but now a lot of people know him as such. I looked into it, and I found that there was a half Japanese terrorist with the same name and that the description I read looked a lot like Douglas Baxter, our not so friendly mob detective. I, myself, used to be called “The Wolf of Havekost”, due to the wolf mask I wore as a kid when this all started. Now, it's “The Butcher of Havekost” and I’m not too sure which I liked more. But I gave someone else the wolf mask, and she’s carving her own legacy.

Inside now and most of the house is dark. We hear noises on the first floor but we move to the second to see if we can look down at everything and it turns out we could. There was a mini balcony/hallway and we could look down to the main room and there was Boss Tiberius.

He looked older than before, weaker, disheveled. He held a cane and was shaking. I realized after a minute he was sobbing and I noticed there were two open-faced coffins. One being Amelia Tiberius, the poor girl we got blamed for killing. She was burned horribly and I only knew because I recognized the framed picture that stood on an easel. Next to it was the other coffin, which held an older woman and she wasn’t burned but instead had a slashed throat that had been sewn up. I didn’t need a picture to recognize that it was Boss Tiberius’ wife Nora. 

This is a surprise. I didn’t know she’d died, and I look at Andre and he says,” Beats me, man.” 

Boss Tiberius wept and he started to curse us for killing his daughter, and he cursed his daughter for going to that party, and he cursed his wife for not having the courage to go through life without their children. Andre, under his breath, says “Ohhhh, okay. Can’t be blamed for that one then.” I punch his arm and continued to watch the old man pathetically trying to keep his shit together, but his sobs overtake him again and once more he wailed and wailed and I start to walk away. 

Andre says “Wait.” and grabs my arm. I turn back and I see Boss Tiberius pouring something on the floor and within seconds I realize it’s kerosene and he lights a cigarette and says something along the lines of, “I love you.” He takes a hit and drops it. The fire starts and roars through the furniture and Boss Tiberius, a titan of this city, a hero to his old neighborhood in his youth and villain now, got on top of his wife’s coffin and the fire spread to him and took him and he didn’t scream. 

He didn’t scream and that horrified me more.

Andre and I got out when we heard men coming in to check on the fire. When they came back outside, Andre and I shot them dead in the doorway. It was quick and anticlimactic. No one returned fire. Some of them didn’t even realize we were there. 

I felt empty and all I could say to Andre was,” Happy New Year, man.” and he nodded and we end up stopping off at Cuthbert The Carnivorous Cunt-Louse’s place for weed and downers to help me sleep. 

That night, I cry under the sounds of the radio blasting some music. I never wanted to be this.

I am only eighteen years old. 

[jeaneybean]

Since two of our players were out, we pulled out this campaign

This was a really, really long session that had some hard bits in it for me as a person because boy howdy did I give Sam a lot of ammo to use against Vera.

SO the morning after the successful bank defense the Watch are all in the watchtower recovering from the previous night’s shenanigans, where even Y’all’d’ve was allowed to drink because Al was like “I watched him kill two people I’m not telling him anything he probably needs to drink.” The next morning there’s a group outside the tower, with a lot of city members coming wanting to join the watch.

The QC looks at the group and is like “Freddy, Ken, Y’all’d’ve, who’s the most sober?” As Y’all’d’ve was trying to sleep on Sara’s arm he was out of the running. The other two were sent off to get coffee. Al and Pava started their usual ribbing of the QC and she went outside to scare the shit out of people in order to give us enough time to sober up. With the help of coffee and bright ass sunlight the squads are ready to stand behind the QC as she gives her speech. Al stands back and makes punching motions with her fists because apparently she’s going to beat them up.

The other squads get paired up with their respective newbies and squad 3 gets pulled into the QC’s office for a conversation. Long story short: Because Sieger Medvedev is being an asshole and consistently requesting the guard look into the missing ring issue (not his wife’s probable murder) she’s sending her best and brightest. Namely: us three assholes. The half elf (Al makes sure to pull her hair back so her ears are showing), the human male (Who doesn’t do anything unless he has to) and the elf boy (Who has not worn shoes in his life and isn’t about to start now.).

They head to the residence and notice a few things about the staff: All Rutish maids, no butlers, the ones that seem to be in charge are the prettiest, and everything is very nice in the house. They’re shown into a sitting room and after fucking with the maids for a bit they get served tea. Y’all’d’ve perches on the couch, Pava drags a chair over from the desk to sit on it backwards, and Al sits on the seat at the head of the area, what would most likely be the seat Sieger would take.

Sieger guesses pretty quickly why they’re there, and Al wastes no time making his day as shitty as possible. Sieger tries to be like ‘Excuse you I just lost my wife and I am heartbroken’ but rolls a literal 1 on his bluff. Even Y’all’d’ve can tell he’s lying. Al states that they’ll need to search the house as a formailty, Siger is like ‘of course, you’ll be able to search all the rooms she was allowed in’ and Al is like ‘Uh no, all the rooms’ and Sieger was like ‘lol no come back with a warrant’ and Al was like ‘OKAY’ and goes out to talk to the queen commander.

Y’all’d’ve and Pava go to search Therese’ room where Pava keeps an eye on Sieger who’s trying to get away as much as he can. Y’all’d’ve is resepectful of the room as he can be, because he’s starting to feel bad for this dead lady. He talks with a bit with her maid and asks some questions, asks what other rooms in the house she frequents. The sitting room, the drinking room, the smoking room, her children’s nursery. (Me, as a player: OUCH) She hadn’t been anywhere else besides her room that day before she left. She’d been in good spirits (probably because she knew she wouldn’t be partying with Sieger, who essentially said he didn’t want to bring her along because she was an embarassment).

Meanwhile, Al tries unsuccesfully to convince QC to give her a warrant to search the whole place and QC is like ‘We have been trying for like 60 fucking years to get into that house to search and they haven’t slipped up I hate them so fucking  much Al do you understand I have had to deal with Sieger his whole fucking life and even my husband, Geoff the literal saint, considered letting him walk free a crime’. and Al is like ‘I need in that house I need in all the fucking rooms I hate him and I want him in jail how can we knock him down a few pegs’ And the QC gets a horrible idea. 

So they swing to pick up Y’all’d’ve and Pava and head over to a small but tall house and the QC asks the Butler to tell the Dame that she’s there. They get called up to the Dame’s room to meet her, and the woman that the QC has taken them to see, whom she thiinks will be all in for fucking with Sieger, is his Grandmother, the previous head of the family, Vera Medvedeva.

Dame Vera starts out the conversation with a quip about the QC not being able to die, which is a fucking great way to start the conversation. Al and Pava can both tell it’s a quip at her, but at the same time Dame Vera is playing. (She’s been playing this game for a while) It’s at about this point that the QC imminently regretted her decision of walking into this fucking house. Al is like ‘OH HEY GUESS WHAT YOUR SHITTY GRANDSON LOST YOUR FAMILY RING’ and Dame Vera is like ‘what a fucking moron’ and also was like ‘filing that away, he didn’t tell me, fucking idiot i find out everything’

Al and QC try to convince Grandmama to be on their side of ‘let’s throw your shithead grandson in jail’ and Grandmama is all”:) do you have proof :)” and Al is like ‘I will go to the queen herself if I have to get that smarmy son of a bitch in jail for a few nights” and Grandmama is all like ‘oh ho look at that, jack booted thugs. At least this is an improvement over the old group you ran with, they’re not killing people in the streets.” And Y’all’d’v’e is like -Jim face-

(Dame Vera also made a comment about Y’all’d’ve and hsi bathing habits that went mostly unnoticed)

The Dame is basically like ‘lol come back when you got some proof’ though she does give the group some nice backstory regarding Sieger, his ‘missing’ first wife, and some bits about the new wife. (She’s young, possibly thinks herself clever, hopefully not for her own sake, we all know what happened to Akulina) She also name drops his first son and adds that Sieger forgets he exsists half the time. Mentions his daughter that left the country.

(Dame Vera thought we were all ‘delightful’)

QC is exhausted and can’t even be too happy when Pava starts telling her about how everyone fucked with Sieger and she heads off. The idiots head back to the house to find out that the Master has left, but his son is there and Al is like ‘oh fuck yes, let’s talk to him’ but first talks with the maids in secret to get on their side and learn some info. She learns that Sieger went out, bought a pig, brought it into the basement and butchered it, and apparently that’s something he does when he’s in a temper and Al’s like ‘oh fuck that pig was me.’

After that in sashays Volya Medvedev who is like ‘oh, look at you. You, are you the one who perched on the couch?’ and Y’all’d’ve is like ‘uh yeah?’ “Pleas,e show me.” “Like this?” “Now sit on the couch.” “Okay?” “Rub your butt on it. Really get on there.” “I am uncomfortable.”

Meanwhile Al is like “TAKE OFF YOUR SHIRT.” And Volya is like “OKAY” and strips off his jacket and shirt and Al goes to town looking for signs of abuse. There’s no brusing or anything, but he does have scars. Al asks him about a few and he’s like “Oh yeah, that happend -insert horrible childhood memory here-” “What about this one?” “Oh, that was -additional horrible memory here-” And Al’s like ‘what the actual fuck, also would you come down to the guard tower and make a statement’ and He’s like ‘BUY ME DRINKS’ and Pava’s like ‘AYYYY’ and Volya puts his jacket back on but forgets his shirt and it becomes A Look. Al leaves behind the quill/parchment she’d taken with her before after breaking hte quill and writing ‘eat a dick’ on the inside of the letter.

So they walk him back to the guard tower and Volya gives his horrible, horrible statement, telling horrible stories of his past. Mentions the time his dad tossed his sister down a flight of stairs. When asked about the basement that no one went in he’s like ‘YUP, THAT’S A FUCKING THING’. Straight up offers to work with the guard and go back and purposely provoke his father into hitting him. Jokes a bit about if his dad goes too far and kills him that he’ll swing and somehow only Y’all’d’ve catches that he’s not joking. Volya is literally wiling for his dad to kill him if it means Sieger dies too.

Ont he way to the bar after Y’all’d’ve is like ‘uh guys i don’t think we should let him help cuz he wants to die and that is maybe not okay?’ and Al is like ‘we are trying to not get him killed’ and Pava’s like ‘yeah he is not in good shape’ but they go out bar hopping and Volya takes them to the two bars he was with his mom with on the night she died. Pava asks around to see if anyone remembers her, and att he first one he doesn’t get much luck but the second one he does, getting some information on the last person to see Therese alive. One of her friends stayed behind at the bar to have some fun with t he barkeep and he was like ‘it was amazing holy shit’ and talked that rich lady up. pussy game strong. The one Therese left with was younger, thick makeup, odd accent.

Al tapped out for a bit to go back and talk to her contact the bluter to see if he can contact both the Medvedva butler as well as the Medvedev maids to be like ‘hey, I want some info and I’ll make sure nothing comes back to you’. She joins back up at bar 3 and that’s when Y’all’d’ve makes his move.

He slides up to Volya and is like ‘hey there my dude, you seem to want to die’ and Volya is like ‘PsssSSSShhh’ and Y’all is like ‘I don’t think it’s cool to let your dad beat you to death when you kinda don’t act like you’d come back for a resurection spell’ and they walk and talk for a bit while Pava and Al follow behin (Al sneaking, Pava just walking)

Volya admits that shit is bad, and Y’all agrees. The world is fucking awful, and horrible things happen, and they keep happening, and they don’t stop. And Volya mentions that his brother left, his sister left (Me, as Vera: OW) and his mom ‘left’, goingout by getting Sieger arrested wouldn’t be a bad way to go out himself. And there’s his dad’s new wife and the kid she’s going to have, they’re going to get treated just the same. Y’all is like ‘it’s good to want to make things better, but like, shit don’t get better when you die. it just stops getting at all’.

They stop by the canal and Al and Pava are like ‘oh my god are they going to jump in’ after they’re like ‘shit, it’s easy to forget he’s been alive a long time’. Kid elf he may be, he’s older than all three of them combined. Volya seems to back from the cliff a bit, but Y’all’d’ve sees something sparkly in the water and, true to form, is like ‘Excuse me, I’m aware that this is a serious conversation but there’s something shiny, gotta get it.” and in he goes, failing his swim check remarklably and freaking out both Al and Pava.

Al grabs Volya and he’s like OH SCORE and Al’s like ‘Get Y’all’d’ve!’ and Pava’s like ‘My girl, I can’t swim.’ and Al is like ‘ffs you get HIM then’ and shoves Volya at him and Volya’s like ‘SCORE’ and Al goes over to check on Y’alld’ve.

Y’all’dve finds the shiny thing and pops up and is like ‘hey. saw a shiny. got it.’ and Al is like ‘you are a horrible fucking gremlin’ and Pava and Volya are like ‘AWESOME JOB’. He brings it up and it’s Therese’ missing necklace, but it’s broken.

Al and Pava (And Volya) seem to think that Therese killed herself, and Y’all’d’ve is in camp ‘why the fuck this neckacle broke tho’. At one point in the night Al and Pava have a conversation about if Volya swings both ways or not. Al heads home with Volya in tow to let him sleep it off with the old ladies and talks to Ethel and has her hide the necklace Y’all’d’ve found because she does not want any of this to come back on him. Ethel is like ‘do you fucking know who that is that is the medvedev heir’ and Al is like ‘i am aware we’re trying to get his father also his granny is great’ and Ethel is like ‘bitch what’ because apparently Ethel does _not_ like dame vera.

The next morning They take watch to the park and to distract Y’all’dve Al tells him to look somewhere, and he’s like ‘there’s nothing over th- is that a squirel’ and runs over to climb a tree and catch a squirel. Al and Pava talk about serious shit for a bit while Y’all’d’ve catches a squirrel. He’s like ‘I DON’T WANT IT ANYMORE’ and throws it at Watch, who catches it in one hand. Horrified, Y’all is like ‘please take that to al’ and as Pava and Al finish their conversation he lumbers over and holds out his hand to Al, opening it to reveal a terrified squirel who promptly bolts.

At the guard tower the QC is pissed because douchebag Sieger has sent a letter being like ‘HEY HOW BOUT YOU FUCKS BE PROFESSIONAL’ and Al and the QC have another chat where Al _almost_ tells her that Y’all’d’ve found the necklace but instead is like I WAS IN THE THIEVES GUILD THE TOHER TWO HAVE NOTHING TO DO WITH IT and the QC is actually impressed she admitted that, but through other clues she’s given (Like admitting to the QC that she knew the necklace Sieger said wass on the body wasn’t there because we were the idiots who found it) that Al stole th rings off of Therese’ corpse.

Y’alld’ve and Pava go to escort Volya home and are like ‘Okay, don’t start shit’ and Volya’s like ‘Okay’ and in he goes to promptly start shit. They hear  yelling and Volya opens the blinds a bit. Then things calm down and Y’all’d’ve and Pava are like ‘I got no where else to be’ so they wait. Volya comes out shellshocked. He yelled at his father, accused him of killing his mother, accused him of killing his first wife, came out as gay, and his dad didn’t give a shit. Didn’t yell at him. Didn’t hit him. Was like ‘I don’t care’.

Y’alld’ve and Pava: oh my god he’s going to fucking murder you.

They refuse to let him go back in the house and they walk him to Grandmama’s before heading back to the station to tell Al about this development. The QC drops a hint that she thinks that Al should return the ring to sieger for the reward money and to also be like ‘hey, asshole, look what the fuck I found’ and Y’all’d’ve is like -squinty eyes- because he suspects something’s up, but they distract him with gold to count. He makes it into shapes when he forgets he’s supposed to be counting it.

They head to Therese’ friend, the one who fucked the barman, and they get her account of the night. She gives them a bit of info on the girl that Therse left with. Her name was Peach, she wore thick makeup and out of style clothes and had an accent, but it sounded like she was trying to hide it. after Pava told her about hte barman’s compliments and she was like ‘he was so appreciative, he made me feel so wanted’ and Pava wingmaned hard for him she was like ‘oh, no, her name was Plum’. They talk with Therese’ other friend that sieger had told them about but she doesn’t have much to tell them, but both women say that Sieger’s people had been there to talk to them.

So the team heads back to the Medvedev residence and ask to talk to his fiance, and Sieger isn’t too happy. Howver, team asshole is on best behavior. Al’s brought her own quill and parchment, Y’all’dve is sitting and not perching on the (new) couch, Pava’s standing up straight. They talk with the future lady medvedev, who is from rusk and has an accent and the team is like HMMMM MMM INTERESTING. And Tatiana admits she was bar hopping and trying to network and did run in with Therese and how awufl she feels because the poor woman died that night. Al and Pava are like ‘oh you poor thing, it’s all right, she just had an accident’ and Tatiana shakes at that. The group is like ‘oh shit she knows something’ but they don’t say anything because Sieger is right fucking there.

Back at the guard tower the QC is like ‘you asshole need to finish this up because I’m losing squad one tomorrow you’re going to need to get interns.’ an Y’all’d’ve is like ‘hey, can I not get the elves? They don’t like me, I’m not elfy enough fro them’ and Pava’s like ‘WE GOTTA KICK THOSE ELVES OFF THE SQUAD THEY MAKE HIM FEEL BAD ABOUT HIMSELF’