#LAST NIGHT I DREAMT I WAS TRYING TO KILL YOU. I WOKE UP AND I WAS TRYING TO KILL YOU | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avastrasposts · 8 months

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The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 27

First of all: look at this beautiful banner @i-own-loki made for my fic! It's amazing, I love it and she is my saviour since I cannot figure out Canva! I'm going to go back and update all the previous posts so this will now be the official fic banner.

Also, chapter 27! I've been looking forward to this one for a while and I hope you enjoy!

Series Master List

Chapter 28 - Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10k

Half the morning passes before you stir, only moving because Frankie slips away to the bathroom. When he comes back you stretch, yawning widely as he wraps around you, his hand running down your side.

“I woke up wondering if I’d dreamt that Will was back,” he mumbles, “I can’t believe you found him, couldn’t fucking believe my eyes last night.”

“Imagine my face when I saw him, they put a hood over my head and Will pulled it off, he’d recognized my voice and I was just dumbstruck, started crying straight away.”

“You’re in good company, I’ve never seen Benny that emotional before, except,” he hesitates “except with Hannah, at the end.”

“That was hard, telling Will about Hannah,” you sigh,” I wonder if Benny told him the whole story, all the details, or if maybe he wants to spare him that? I’m not sure I’d wanna know, it can’t be changed.”

“I’d wanna know,” Frankie says, shifting in bed so that he can look at you, “It would fuck me up, but I’d wanna know anyway.”

You shudder, shaking the thoughts off you, “I don’t wanna think about it, I’m happy Will is back, I wanna leave it at that.” You go to push yourself off the bed but Frankie grabs hold of you, his hand behind your neck, and pulls you down to his lips in a hard kiss. There’s an edge of desperation in the way he grips your neck and holds you close to his mouth while his tongue licks into you, all teeth and urgency.

“Yesterday, before you came back,” he says, pulling back a little so that he can look at you, his eyes almost black, “I imagined what I’d do to them if they got even close to doing what Myers did to Hannah. I’d wanna know every detail, because I would do a hundred times worse to them.” His tone is rigid, harsher than you’ve heard from him before, and the intensity behind his words makes you frightened, not for you, but for him.

“Don’t go down that route, Frankie, please,” you say, taking hold of his hand, “don’t even think about it, it’s not a good head space to be in.”

“I can’t help it, the thought of that happening to you…” he trails off, you feel his fingers flexing around the back of your neck, “I just wanna fucking make them-”

“Stop, Frankie,” you cut him off, “I don’t want you thinking about it, and if anything was to happen to me, I don’t want you doing anything,” you take his hand from behind your neck, putting the other one on his cheek. “If I go missing, come find me, please, tear the world apart if you have to, I’ll do the same for you. But don’t lose yourself to revenge, I don’t want that for you.” Frankie’s eyes soften at your words as you run your thumb over his cheek, “You’ll break my heart if you let hatred take over, I want you to be my sweet Frankie, even if I’m not here.”

“Please don’t talk about not being here,” he says, his voice thick, “that thought fucking kills me, that’s what scares me more than anything.”

“Being without you scares me the most too, Frankie, but promise you won’t wreck yourself trying to get revenge if something happens to me.”

He takes in your worried face, your eyes searching his for assurance. The very thought of someone hurting you, or worse, makes his heart stutter, his first instinct is to think of all the ways he can bring retribution. But your pleading eyes, your hand on his check as you beg him to promise you a different path, makes him squash it down, he can’t deny you anything, even this.

“I promise, cariño, I promise I won’t lose myself.” His kiss is gentle this time, his arms wrapping around you, as you cup his face. You let yourself stay wrapped up by him for a few, quiet minutes, breathing in his warm scent, his soft lips and hands on your skin.

“We should go downstairs and see the others,” he mumbles, still close to your lips, “see what Will has to say about the smugglers.”

You nod and pull away a little from him, taking his hand and tugging him off the bed. It’s a couple of quick showers for the both of you and then you go downstairs. Will and Benny are on the couch as you walk in, Pope making coffee in the kitchen.

“Morning, sleepy heads!” Benny greets you, he’s got a wide grin, looking happy and relaxed next to his brother.

“Morning,” you say as Will pushes off the couch and comes over for a hug.

“Did you sleep ok?” he asks, tilting your head up to check on the cut his men left on your cheek.

“Out like a light,” you say, and it was true, you hadn’t even had a nightmare. “You ok?” you ask in a lower voice and he catches your meaning, giving you a nod and a small crooked smile.

“I’m good, it’s surreal to suddenly have breakfast with you guys like nothing changed, and about Hannah…” he shakes his head a little, “I always hoped, a little at least, that she was still ok. But to know that she was alive until just a few months ago…that’s gonna take some time to process.” He shrugs and you nod, leaving it at that for now.

Will, Benny and Pope have obviously been talking before Frankie and you arrived and they fill you in on the details while you have breakfast.

“So, the thing with Conway yesterday,” Will says, “had been brewing for a while. The guy’s an asshole, he was only part of the crew because he had good connections when we first started out. He’s been pushing for us to start smuggling and trading drugs, opiates mainly, but I’ve said no to that from the beginning, not happening.”

“We heard that from Jodie Graham, she said you guys wouldn’t sell any to her,” you say, refilling your coffee mug.

“Jodie’s good to trade with but that was always our disagreement, but she was fine with it, didn’t push it.”

“So what’s the plan for your crew now?” Frankie’s looking over at Will, “We talked about approaching you guys and working together before but now,” he glances over at you, “I’m not gonna trust them, they attacked us and we’ve taken out a lot of your guys, there’s gonna be bad blood.”

“Yeah, the idea of you joining my crew died when you killed Conway’s brother in the warehouse,” Will says, shaking his head. “They had orders to scare you, ‘bit of intimidation, not kill you, but that obviously backfired.”

“Ok, so collaboration is out of the question,” Benny says, “then what the fuck do we do? Take them out?”

Will sighs and leans back against the counter, uncrossing his arms to rub one hand over his face. “I don’t think that’s gonna work, I mean, yeah we can take them out, we can handle them, no problem. But first off, I don’t wanna, not all of them are bad like Conway, and I’ve been working with some of them for years, I don’t wanna turn around and kill them, or give them a reason to kill me. But,” he shifts on his feet, crossing his arms again, “the guys who you’ve killed, they had family, and friends, in this QZ. And I’m not saying you did the wrong thing when you killed them, they attacked you,” Will’s holding up his hands as both Benny and Pope start to object. “But, as a result, the guys in the crew are out for your blood, and as they start spreading the word about who killed their friends and family, we’re toast, we can’t stay in this QZ.”

You breath out a low fuck….and sink your head into your hands. You’ve just settled in New York, you just fucking got here, and now you’re all stuck with either leaving, or watching you back at every step.

“Great, back into no man’s land,” Pope growls.

“We should’ve just come to you straight away, Will,” you say, looking over at the other three guys, “We were being fucking stupid.”

“I’ve been keeping a low profile, and my guys wouldn’t have trusted you, you’re new in the QZ, unknown, too risky. And,” Will shrugs, “what’s done is done, and the Conway situation would’ve blown up anyway.”

“So we need to leave again,” Frankie says, seemingly shaking himself out of inactivity, “when, how and where to? We need to figure out where the fuck we’re going this time.”

“I think I can answer the ‘how’,” Will says, “I talked to Jodie in private the last time I saw her. She was willing to let me sail with them up to Dartmouth, outside Providence. They trade up there. Their ship is big enough for the five of us, and them, so as long as we pay our way, they’ll take us.”

“That gets us a long way away from New York,” Pope says, “sounds like a good idea. And getting to Orchard Beach is no problem, we’ll just have to be extra cautious and avoid your guys, Will.”

“And then what?” you ask. “Is there a QZ in Providence?”

“Yeah, there is,” Will nodded, “Jodie says it’s small but decent, might be good to check out, if not, the Boston QZ isn’t much further north and that’s a big one.”

You look over at Frankie who nods at you, “I’m in, if we have to leave, that sounds like a solid idea.”

“I’m in too, and sailing sounds like a really nice way to travel,” you look back at Will, nodding your agreement.

“Alright, if everyone’s in, I’ll get in touch with Jodie, set it up. In the meantime, we need to lay low,” Will says and everyone agrees.

The next few days are spent collecting supplies and going over the resources you have while trying to stay out of sight. Frankie and Pope do a short trip outside the wall to clear a cache they’ve got stashed. You pace the apartment while they’re gone, glancing out through the window every time you hear a noise. When they get back you breathe a long sigh of relief, pulling Frankie in for a long hug. He tangles his fingers in your hair as he holds you close, letting his solid body under your arms sooth you.

You choose to leave just after the curfew comes into effect at six pm, jogging through the empty QZ until you get to a tunnel you rarely use because it’s broken up and slow going. Slipping into it, the five of you stop just inside the entrance, waiting for anyone who might’ve followed you. After fifteen minutes you continue on, nothing moves behind you. You get through to the other end without any issues and quickly make your way through the Bronx towards Orchard Beach. Nothing stirs in the night and it’s almost worse, you’re expecting something to happen, something to go wrong, but you arrive at the beach with plenty of time to spare.

You camp out on the side of the beach, waiting for Jodie and Damon to show up. You’re nervous while you wait, pacing back and forth until Frankie stops you by pulling you to the side and wrapping his arms around you. He doesn’t have to say anything, you just bury your face against his soft flannel shirt, and let him rub his hands up and down your back.

By the time the ship sails into the bay, a thin new moon has risen over Long Island and there’s a steady breeze. Jodie comes in with the small dinghy and gets you all out to the ship, it takes two trips to get you all and your bags onto the sailing vessel. Once you’ve climbed onboard and look back towards the shore, you feel your shoulders relax, leaving New York QZ and the exposed world outside the walls behind. Damon and Jodie get the sails up, helped by Pope, the only one of you with any kind of sailing experience, and the ship starts moving north. Damon sets a course that takes the ship out through the Long Island Sound and as it widens the shorelines on both sides disappear from view.

“I’ll take the first watch,” he says, “Jodie will take the second one so you’re all welcome to sleep in the bunks below deck, might be a bit cramped though but there’s plenty of room to sleep on deck.”

Benny, Will and Pope disappear beneath deck and you poke your head down too. There’s two bunk beds set up on either side of the narrow hull. At the aft of the ship there’s a small bedroom where Jodie and Damon sleep.

“I wouldn’t mind sleeping up on deck, what about you?” you ask Frankie, eyeing the one single bunk bed available.

“Sounds like a very nice idea,” he smiles, “Will snores.”

“I do not,” Will grumbles in reply from the top bunk he’s climbed into, already inside his sleeping bag.

Frankie chuckles and pulls you back up top. There’s plenty of room on deck and you roll out your sleeping mats, cushioning them with a few thick pillows Damon offers you, and zipping your sleeping bag together. The night air is cool but fresh and salty as Frankie pulls you close, your head on his arm as you both look up at the sky. The stars are impossibly bright out here on the water and in a low voice Frankie points out the different constellations, showing you the north star, a bright light in the sky.

“It’s less than one degree away from the north pole, so if you see it, you always know where north is.”

“Did you ever use it to navigate with?” you ask, tilting your head to get a better look at it.

“Several times, it’s a quick reference when you’re moving at night.”

“You’re such a boy scout, Francisco,” you tease him, “Big, scary, Delta Force boy scout.” You giggle as he growls into your ear, his fingers finding the soft skin at your waist and tickling you.

“If we were in a bed I’d show you how I got my knot tying merit badge,” he chuckles as you squirm under his fingers.

“Pretty sure we’ve already done that,” you smile as his hands return to their soft caresses over your skin.

“Pretty sure you really enjoyed it too,” Frankie smirks, the memory of several occasions when he’d used his one tie to restrain your hands making you squeeze your legs together. Something to remember for when you’re next in a safe location and on your own. Right now you’re getting sleepy and you turn, your back pressed up against his chest.

“Sleep well, hermosa, te amo.” Frankie nudges his nose against your neck as he gives you a soft kiss.

“I love you too, my sweet Frankie,” you mumble, his arm a warm weight over your body.

Damon and Jodie make sure the ship sails safely through the night and when the early morning sun wakes you, the ship has already passed New Haven. It’s another full day of sailing before you reach Dartmouth according to Damon and you’ve already agreed to spend a second night on the ship so that you can disembark the next morning in daylight. A whole day on a sailing ship turns into what feels like a well deserved holiday and you’re starting to think Jodie and Damon really have the best idea about how to live in the apocalypse.

“Do you ever see other ships out here?” You ask as Damon brings out the fishing rods after breakfast.

“Not much anymore,” he says, “in the beginning there were a lot of boats around, both sailing boats and motor ones, nowadays we only see sailing ships but even they are rare. Might get one passing on the horizon.”

“Do you ever approach them, see if anyone is alive?” you ask as he hands you one of the rods and a tub of homemade bait.

“Sometimes, depends on how badly we need supplies or gear. We follow them for a bit, see if anything stirs, most times the ships are empty or have infected on them. In the past year we’ve only come across two other ships with people on them. Trade with one of them, the other one wanted nothing to do with us.”

You cast out, following Damon’s instructions, the other guys are also casting out around the ship, Frankie’s next to you, he’s been listening to Damon speaking.

“Do you ever go ashore?” he asks, “For supplies?”

“No need any more, we trade for what we need most times, scavenge ships for the rest.”

“And eat a lot of fish,” Jodie sighs from the steering wheel, “I used to love eating fresh fish, now I’d be happy if I never ate fish again in my life.”

“I’ll see if I can catch a burger for you, Jodie,” Will jokes from the stern and everyone laughs, it’s a nice relaxed, holiday feeling on deck. Frankie insists on you wearing his cap as he sees you squinting at the sun, it smells like him and you give him a grateful kiss on the cheek. The sun has already given him a deeper tan and more freckles and he looks irresistible as he pulls off his t-shirt, he catches you staring and winks at you with a grin.

“You look like a snack, Frankie,” you whisper into his ear as you kiss his cheek again and he smiles, turning his head and kissing your lips.

“Never thought I’d be getting a tan in the apocalypse.”

Between the six of you fishing, you catch plenty, more than you need. But Damon has figured out how to extract salt from the ocean water, and shows you all how he preserves the fish by drying and salting it. He gives you plenty of what he’s already dried as extra rations, and prepares what you’ve caught while the best catch gets grilled straight away.

None of you have eaten fresh fish in years and it feels like a feast and even more like a holiday when Damon serves up what you’ve just caught. You stuff yourself, tipping back on the deck after lunch with your hands on your belly, groaning at how full you are. Frankie smiles down at you from above, his unruly curls waving in the breeze as his eyes crinkle at the corners with a smile, sunlight filtering in and out between the sails and lighting up his tan skin. You’re suddenly hit with a pang of nostalgia, a memory of your first date with him, lying back on his blanket in the park, your belly full of tacos and smiling up at this gorgeous man who’d just taken you up for your first helicopter ride.

“Do you remember when we had tacos in the park?” you ask and put your hand up to his curls, running your fingers through them.

“How could I forget,” he smiles, “our first date. I fell asleep on your chest and if you keep doing that I’m going to fall asleep again.”

You smile up at him and rake your nails across his scalp, always his favorite thing. He drops down and puts his arm over your waist, head on your chest just like he did in the park and it doesn’t take long before you can hear his soft snoring. You catch Will glancing over at the two of you with a smile but when he turns away it slips off his face, replaced with something more doleful. He turns and looks out over the empty ocean and you see his hand curl, white knuckled, around the railing and you know what he’s thinking about. You blink back sudden tears as you look up at the blue sky, dotted with little white tufts. You’d give anything to have Hannah safe on this ship with Will too.

By the time the sun slips under the western horizon, you’ve reached Dartmouth, the old town dark but still relatively unbroken by the looks of it. Damon takes the ship out further into Buzzards Bay and anchors up. You’re sleepy and relaxed after a day in the sun when you curl up next to Frankie on deck, falling asleep almost instantly as the ship gently sways on the waves.

The following morning the fog is thick over the bay, but Jodie and Damon have sailed here many times and they easily navigate to the shore, bringing you in at Nonquitt Beach outside Dartmouth. Jodie rows the dinghy in, bringing Pope, Frankie and you in last.

“Thanks for everything, Jodie,” Pope says, as he unloads the last of the bags. “Safe sailing, we’ll try to get word to you about where we end up.”

“Take care of yourselves now,” she gives you all a final wave before pushing off the shore again.

“Ok, back on dry land,” Benny says, looking over across the beach, towards the residential area behind it, “What does the map say, what route?”

“We head north up to route six, follow that to Taunton River, route six crosses it but if that bridge is out, there’s another one just to the north,” Pope says. “After that it’s a straight stretch into Providence.

Will looks over Pope’s shoulder and points at the neighborhood beyond the beach, “I suggest we try to get through this area and then go inland up to route six. Less houses when we’re away from the coast here.”

Pope nods in agreement and pockets the map while the rest of you ready your guns. You’ve got three rifles between you now, and you’ve each got a handgun. In silence you all start moving across the beach, Pope in the lead, Will bringing up the rear. It’s not fast going but the neighborhood is empty and quiet. Jodie and Damon had left you here because it was a regular spot for them to meet traders and the area was regularly cleared by people who moved through it and it shows. The buildings are empty, looted, and nothing stirs.

Finding route six is easy and then you turn west, following it to the river. The trek takes most of the day, a few detours necessary to avoid infected and by the time you see the river, it’s too late to go further, but at least your first day off the ship has been uneventful. Finding a safe looking building to stay in for the night, Pope, Will and Benny go through it, making sure it’s empty, before you make camp in the top apartment. You all divvy up the watches and despite being outside the wall in an unknown city, you sleep fairly well after your watch, and the night passes quietly. You wake up on your side with Frankie’s arm around your waist and his solid body pressed up against your back, by the sound of his heavy breathing, he’s still sound asleep. Desperate for a pee, you carefully move away from his arm and step into your boots. Will is on watch, the final one for the night, and he gives you a warm smile as you step out of the apartment after a quick bathroom visit. He’s standing at the top of the stairs and you lean against the window ledge next to him.

“All quiet?” you ask in a low voice, not wanting to wake the others still sleeping inside the apartment.

“All quiet,” he confirms with a nod, “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, it felt pretty safe here, and having you four around helps,” you smile, “It’s really good having you back, Will,” you give his hand a quick squeeze and he smiles again.

“It’s good being back with you all too,” he says but then hesitates, falling silent for a minute while you watch his mind work, and you reflect over how Will was always more like Frankie with his words, never speaking just for the sake of speaking, they always consider what they want to say before they speak.

“It’s good being back with family,” he offers eventually, “and not just Benny. You, Frankie and Pope too. I had people I trusted to a certain degree in New York, mostly because I had to trust them. But they were never friends, never family. I’d forgotten what it feels like to be with family.” He looks over at you again, “I missed it more than I realized.”

“I’m sorry we didn’t find each other sooner. We heard rumors about a guy who sounded like you in the months after the outbreak, but we didn’t think it could be you because it was all the way up in New York.”

“Yeah, Benny told me about it, I don’t think I would’ve believed it myself.” He shoulders the rifle and comes to stand next to you, leaning back against the window ledge. “I...I feel guilty for not trying harder to get back to Hannah, to Arlington. Things might’ve been different if I had.”

“Or you could’ve died on the way there, there’s no point in thinking you could’ve changed anything. We did what we thought we could do.”

Will stays silent for a few minutes, you turn to glance out through the window, down at the street, it’s slowly getting lighter now. As you turn back you hear him exhale slowly.

“Benny told me about Lucía, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to Frankie about it yet,” Will says, his voice even lower, looking over at you. “I’m really sorry, Ben told me it got pretty bad.”

“It did, we were at Denny’s cabin after and he shut off, barely even spoke. I…I had moments when I wasn’t sure we’d make it, it would’ve been so easy to just stop trying to survive. Frankie didn’t seem to see a reason to live either, I had to keep him alive.”

“What got him out of it?”

“He got kinda jolted out of it when we got attacked on our way to the Franklin QZ, we were attacked by raiders, we got separated but Frankie killed them, burnt their place down and got us out. But what he had to do…to Lucía…” you trail off, exhaling slowly, “He’s…there’s something darker in him now, it changed him.”

“I think we’ve all changed, forced by circumstances,” Will says, keeping an eye on the open door to the apartment down the hall, “but that kind of trauma would break anyone, and Frankie had been through a lot even before it.” He looks over at you again, “He’d be a lot worse off if it wasn’t for you though, you know that right?” Will gently nudges your shoulder with his own, “You were good for him from the start, before the outbreak, and anyone can see now how you ground him, keep him centered.”

“I hope it’s enough,” you sigh. Frankie’s darker moments were less frequent after the years he’d spent getting help from Herb, but you’d seen them flare back up when things got heated. The anger was closer to the surface than ever, never directed at you, but always present if he perceived a threat to you, or the violent thoughts he fell into when he thought of revenge.

“Morning guys,” Pope comes out of the apartment, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, “all quiet?”

“Yeah, we’re just catching up,” Will says and you push off from the window ledge.

“Morning, Pope.”

“Morning, hermana,” he gives your shoulder a quick squeeze, “Please go wake Fish, he responds so much better to your morning kisses than mine.”

“Tonto del culo,” you smirk at him and he chuckles.

“He really is only teaching you the bad ones.”

You find Frankie still sound asleep and you almost don’t want to wake him, he looks peaceful and younger, splayed on his belly with his arm as a pillow, the other one thrown over where you’d slept. Benny has stirred across the room, sitting up and scratching his chest.

“Is it morning?” he asks, his voice drowsy.

“Yeah, the others are up, I’m just gonna wake Frankie,” you whisper and Benny nods, pushing back his sleeping bag. You sink down on your side, next to Frankie, and run your fingers through his curls, pressing your lips to his scruffy cheek. His nose twitches and a low rumble comes from his chest.

“Keep doing that, hermosa,” he mutters, his voice rough with sleep and you smile into his patchy beard, your nails scratching across his scalp.

“Time to wake up, love,” you whisper and he grumbles again, his arm coming up to wrap around your waist and pull you closer, his nose buried against the soft skin of your throat.

“Despiértate, el pececito,” Pope says, coming into the apartment again, grinning at Frankie’s grumbling.

“Don’t fucking call me that, I’m bigger and older than you,” he mutters, rolling over on his back as you sit up.

Coffee and breakfast is quickly done and then packed up before you all head down to the street again. Route six leads right up to the river’s edge, but that’s where it stops, the huge six lane bridge has been wiped out by the bombing after outbreak day. The twisted blue girders lay rusting in the water next to the USS Massachusetts.

“Alright, plan B,” Pope says, pointing north, “there’s another bridge about two miles upriver.”

“I wonder if anyone thought to make camp on the warship,” Benny says as you walk past it. Nothing stirs and it looks uninhabited but also like it would make a regular fortress with a few guards.

“Probably, but I prefer Jodie and Damon’s idea,” Frankie says, “be far out on the ocean, away from everything, that’s how I’d like to do it.”

“Wish I could sail,” he adds in a lower voice so that only you can hear, “then that’s what I’d do, take us out there, maybe find a small, uninhabited island down south for shelter during the winter.”

“I’d like that, Frankie,” you whisper back at him and he gives you a quick wink, before he turns forward again.

“ ‘Veterans’ Memorial Bridge’, how appropriate,” Benny says as you approach the smaller bridge, “But it doesn’t look too good.”

“Looks like it should hold though,” Pope says, “Let’s get a closer look.”

The bridge is low and flat and used to open in the middle to let ships through, the center section splitting in two parts and standing straight up. Most of the bridge is still in place and looks solid, but the part that opens hangs below the bridge, as if the two movable slabs have collapsed and sunk lower than their hinges should allow. You all walk up to the edge of the bridge and look out over the tilting road surface. The opposite side of the bridge sits lower than the eastern side, you have to jump across and down to get to it but it seems doable, even to you.

Benny takes a cautious step onto the part of the bridge that slopes downwards, it doesn’t move under him and he tests it by bouncing on his feets, as if he was on a trampoline, finally jumping up and slamming his boots down onto the surface. The bridge doesn’t budge and Benny looks up at the rest of you.

“Seems solid enough,” he says, bouncing a few more times.

“What’s our option, Pope?” Frankie asks, eyeing the gap at the end.

“Next bridge is twelve miles north of here,” Pope replies, “Doable, but it takes us a long way away from Providence.”

Will steps out on the bridge next to his brother and does a few test jumps, moving further out from the solid section.

“It’s not moving an inch, I say we go this way, the jump at the end is easy enough.”

“Ok,” Frankie agrees, “But let’s go slowly and carefully, I don’t want a fucking bridge collapsing under me.”

“Too many arepas, fishsticks,” Benny taunts and Frankie flips him off.

Slowly you all move down the sloping road surface, it remains solid, even when you get to the end of the section and look down at the jump.

“That side tilts a bit more, be careful when you jump, Benny,” Will says, eyeing his brother as he gets ready to jump.

“Nothing to it, Ironhead,” Benny says and takes a gigantic leap, overshooting the gap by several feet and slamming down onto the road surface with a grin.

“Beat that, bro!” he calls, flexing his arms, posing for imaginary cameras.

Will chuckles and backs up, “Watch me, Benny boy.” Will takes a running start and launches himself over the gap, landing a clear foot further than Benny who scowls.

“I didn’t have a running start, that doesn’t count.”

“Yeah, whatever, big bro beat ya, kid.” Will smirks and dodges Benny’s playful swipe at his head.

“I’ll jump first, you follow me, cariño, ok?” Frankie says, “I’ll catch you when you land.”

“Ok, but it’s a tiny jump, I’ll be fine, Frankie,” you smile and he gets ready to jump, he’s not going to take part in the Miller brother’s pissing contest. He takes a few steps back and clears the gap, landing just in front of Benny who whoops.

“Still in the lea - oh fuck!”

The bridge groans and drops, the section screeching further down towards the water, the angle suddenly sharp.

“Grab the railing!” Will yells, yanking Benny towards the side while Frankie scrambles to find purchase on something.

“Frankie!” you yell, you see his boots scraping across the asphalt as he slips down the road. “Will!” Pope shouts, “Grab Fish! Grab him!”

“Take my hand, Benny!” He grabs Benny’s hand in an armlock and Benny hooks his other arm around the railing, Will reaching out towards Frankie.

Your heart threatens to jump out of your chest as you watch Frankie scraping along the road, slipping further down as he tries to get to the railing and Will’s hand. You can hear him cursing as his boots slip and he skids down closer to the edge. The bridge groans again and Frankie stumbles, at the last second launching himself forward and grabbing hold of the last part of the railing, his boots dangling over the fifty feet drop.

“Pull me up!” he shouts, “Pull me the fuck up!”

“I got you,” Will calls, scrambling down the railing, using it as a ladder, “I got you!” He hangs on with one hand and reaches down to Frankie, grabbing hold of his wrist and pulling him up. Benny manages to hook his arm around Will’s waist and together they get Frankie high enough so that he can get his feet up on the railing too.

“Climb!” you yell, “You’ve got to get off the bridge!” You can hear it groaning under them. Benny is already scrambling up the railing, Will makes sure Frankie’s got a good grip and then they both start climbing, rushing as the bridge section slips lower. It’s hanging at almost ninety degrees now and the screech of the metal hinges makes you and Santi yell at them to climb faster.

Frankie heaves himself over the ledge, Will and Benny holding on to his arms, dragging him up. They scramble to their feet and run backwards as the section rips loose and crashes into the water below.

“Fuck…” you hear Benny gasp, Frankie’s bent double, his hands on his knees as he looks over to the other side where you and Pope are now stuck.

“How far did you say the next bridge was?” you ask Santi, your eyes still on Frankie.

“Twelve miles, four hour hike if we don’t run into trouble.” He gives the guys on the other side a wave, “You guys ok, no injuries?”

Frankie shakes his head and Benny gives a thumbs up, they’re both standing up now, a safe distance from the ledge.

“Pope!” Will calls from across the bridge, “what’s the name of the next bridge?”

Pope pulls out the map, “Berkley Bridge, twelve miles north,” he calls back, “Follow the one thirty eight, along the river. There’s a high school next to the bridge, on the west side.”

“Alright, we’ll meet you there,” Will calls back, “we’ll leave markers if we get there first.”

“See you there, stay safe!” Pope calls back, giving them a wave. Frankie’s eyes meet yours and despite the distance you can see the anxiety, you know you’ve got the same look.

“Pope!” he calls, and Pope cuts him off.

“I know, hermano, I’ll keep her safe, I’ll get her back to you, don’t worry about it.” You feel Santi put his hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze, pulling you back towards the eastern shore. You raise your hand to Frankie, and he does the same.

“Stay safe, Frankie, I love you.”

“Te amo, mi vida. Stay safe!”

Pope and you head back to the eastern shore, you feel your legs shaking, the adrenaline leaving your system and you stumble slightly. Pope reaches out and grabs your shoulder, holding you steady.

“Take it easy, hermana, you doing ok?”

“Just a bit shaky after all that,” you say, “that was way too fucking close.”

“Yeah, it was,” Santi gives you a squeeze and keeps walking, “thank fuck Will and Benny were there too.”

“I wish I could be as cool as you guys in situations like that, and then just brush it off and keep going.”

“We had years of training, remember? And it didn’t always do us a lot of good, trained to do some fucked up shit but no one taught us how to deal with the aftermath.” Pope pulls out the map and scans the street for any landmarks. “We basically just need to follow the river but it curves around a bit so I’m gonna try to not get us too lost.”

Off in the distance you hear the tell tale sound of infected and you both freeze in your tracks before Pope grabs your arm and pulls you into an alley. Skirting around, moving slowly and carefully, it’s slow going for the rest of the day. You end up spending an hour hiding inside a building while a horde of at least fifty infected shamble past on the street outside.

“It might’ve been the noise of the bridge falling that attracted them,” Pope says, peeking out through the window at the last infected stragglers.

“I hope there's no more heading this way,” you say, it’s already been three hours since you left the others at the bridge and you’ve still got a long way to go. At this pace you won’t get the next bridge before nightfall.

Together you carefully leave the building and move quickly away from the horde, checking every street corner and blind spot before you move on. You manage to move a few more miles, but then a chilling screech goes up close by and Pope pulls you down behind a car, crouching down. It’s in the nick of time, four runners stumble out of an alley across the street.

“Fuck, they’re everywhere today,” Pope breathes. Glancing behind you he motions you backwards, into a shop, “In here, we need to get off the street.”

It looks like a small mom and pop dry cleaning business inside, you see racks of empty coat hangers behind a counter as Pope scouts forwards and finds the door to the second floor. The door opens up with a small tap of his boot and you both make your way up the stairs slowly. Whoever ran this shop clearly lived on top of it, the stairs leading to a small landing with a closed front door. Pope pushes it open without resistance and quickly scans the small hallway that it opens to. He motions for you to close the door behind you and it shuts with a soft click. Nothing stirs and you quietly follow Pope towards what looks like the living room. You’ve both got your guns out, Pope in front as he steps through the doorway and sweeps the room. He spots the man a split second before the butt of a rifle comes down on the side of his head and he’s thrown to the floor. The crack to his skull disorientates him but he manages to hold on to his gun, rolling onto his back and aiming at the man now advancing on him, a shotgun raised and cocked. His head throbs and he blinks rapidly to clear the fog threatening to envelope him.

“Lower the gun or your girl gets hurt.” The growl comes from a second man, holding you firm, your arm twisted up behind your back and a large hunting knife pressed against your throat. He’d grabbed you as Pope stumbled to the ground, twisting the gun out of your hand as he yanked you into the room and bent your arm painfully up behind your back. You can feel the cold blade press into your throat, just shy of nicking your skin.

You see Pope quickly scan the situation, the determination in the two men, the knife against your throat, and he drops his gun, sliding it across the floor..

“Check him for any other weapons and tie him up,” your captor orders the man with the shotgun. “On your belly, hands behind your back,” he tells Pope. You see the anger in Santi’s eyes as he rolls over, gritting his teeth. The man holding you doesn’t relent his grip, your shoulder is screaming, another half an inch and he’ll dislocate it.

“Please, my shoulder,” you whimper, “you’re breaking it.”

“Don’t worry, darlin´, as soon as he’s secured I’ll loosen my grip.” He’s still got the blade tight against your throat, forcing your head back, his voice is close to your ear and the deep drawl of his rough voice makes your skin crawl.

The man with the shotgun quickly secures Pope’s hands with a cable tie, patting him down and stepping back.

“He’s clear, Joel, now what?”

He looks over at the man holding you and your brain goes into overdrive, putting the face of the man in front of you, older now, more worn, together with the deep Texan drawl of the man behind you.

“Miller!” you gasp, your throat scraping against the knife as the man’s eyes snap to yours. “You’re Tommy Miller! We met, fourth of July, at Denny’s cabin.” You feel the man behind you tighten his grip on your arm, bending it just a little bit further back and you sob, “You’re Will and Benny’s cousins!”

“You’re Frankie’s girl!” Tommy blurts out, his eyes suddenly wide with recognition, “And you,” he looks at Pope, still belly down on the floor, “you’re one of the Delta Force guys.”

“Yeah, I’m Pope, get these fucking things off me, man,” he spits. Tommy takes a step forward but Joel barks.

“Tommy, wait! What the fuck are you doing, we can’t trust them!”

“C’mon, Joel, we know them,” Tommy says but he stops in his tracks.

“Yeah, we knew them, for a weekend, six fucking years ago!” Joel snaps back, Now the-”

“We’re with Will and Benny,” you interrupt, moving your head back as much as you can from the sharp blade. “We got separated this morning, they’re on the other side of the river, we’re trying to get to the next bridge to meet them.”

“Will and Benny are alive?” Tommy’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and he shoots Joel a hopeful look before he quickly schools his face back into neutrality.

“How do we know you’re not just lying? Who else is with you?” Joel growls from behind you.

“Why the fuck would we lie about that?” Pope growls right back at him from the floor, “We’ve been with Benny since Arlington, at the beginning, and we just found Will in New York about a week ago.”

“Frankie’s with us,” you say, “It’s just us, Frankie, Will and Benny.”

“Joel…” Tommy says, “We can’t walk away from this, we gotta see if they’re telling the truth:”

Joel remains silent behind you, you can see Tommy’s eyes on him but his grip on your arm is still firm. It’s like the two brother’s are having a silent conversation, deciding your fate as your shoulder screams in protest.

“Fine,” Joel finally spits, “but if they fuck us, it’s on you, Tommy!” He removes the knife from your throat and releases your arms. You collapse forward, stumbling away from him with your arm cradled to your chest. Tommy kneels next to Pope and cuts his ties and Pope gets to his feet with a grumbled thanks.

“Lead the way then, you two in front,” Joel says as you glance back at him. He’s changed more than Tommy, a bit more gray around his temples and on his jaw, but it’s his face, the expression in his eyes that’s made him almost unrecognizable. The Joel you knew for a long weekend six years ago had a friendly, warm face. You still remember his belly laughs when his daughter and Lucía brought him down with tickles, a friendly giant who didn’t even protest when Lucía lay flat across his legs with Sarah over his chest. The man scowling at you now looks dangerous and feral, angry lines carved into his face and a hard set jaw.

“Sure, I’ll take the lead,” Pope says, accepting his gun back from Tommy, much to Joel’s dissatisfaction. “Let me just check her shoulder first, you twisted it pretty hard by the looks of it.” The sharp tone in his voice isn’t lost on Joel and he only answers with another low growl.

Pope gently prods your shoulder and you wince under his touch. “Feels like the muscle has been torn, like a sprain,” he says, “I’ll make you a sling when we get to the others, keep your hand hooked into your jacket for now.” He briefly cups your cheek with his hand, “You ok, hermana?” he asks in a low voice and you’re reminded of how similar his eyes are to Frankie’s when they share the same look of concern.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you say, giving him a small smile and he smiles back.

“Ok, we’ve got about two hours I think, to the bridge,” he says, looking over at Joel who gives a curt nod. “We good to go?”

“Yeah, take the lead,” Joel says and motions to the door.

Pope quickly finds the back door of the shop, scanning the narrow alley before stepping out. You stay behind him, then Tommy, with Joel covering the rear. You move as fast as possible through the streets, eventually coming out into the countryside and cutting across fields. Twice you have to hastily hide from groups of infected, still moving south towards the broken bridge but after the second group has passed you see no more. By the time you see the river again the sun has just sunk below the horizon, it’s taken you almost the whole day to cover the twelve miles and you’re exhausted. As the Berkley Bridge finally comes into view you’re dead on your feet, hungry and thirsty and your shoulder aches.

“Hang in there,” Pope says to you in a low voice, dropping back and giving your uninjured shoulder a squeeze, “the high school is just on the other side of the bridge.”

“I can’t wait to just lie down and sleep,” you reply, “I really hope the others got there ok.”

Pope nods in response and steps forward again, taking the lead as you all step onto the bridge. It’s in one piece and you breathe a sigh of relief when you’re across it. It doesn’t take long to reach the high school and Pope quickly finds a marker carved into the gate post.

“Back door,” he says and leads you around the building. It’s fully dark now and it’s slow going, but you finally see a half open door to a smaller section of the school and as you approach you hear the sound of a weapon cocking.

“Stop, identify yourself!” you hear Frankie’s low voice, stern and commanding, he’s expecting two people, not four, and he’s raised the rifle, aiming at you through the darkness.

“Catfish,” Pope calls, “stand down, it’s us.”

You see Frankie lower his rifle a little bit as the four of you come out of the gloom, his finger is still near the trigger and he doesn’t put the safety on.

“Who’s with you?” he asks, his eyes landing on Joel and Tommy behind you.

“Joel and Tommy Miller, Ben and Will’s cousins,” Pope replies and you see recognition flash across Frankie’s face before his eyes widen. .

“Holy shit, what are the odds of that?”

“Pretty high I’d say,” Tommy replies, stepping forward and extending his hand, “Good to see you again, man.” Frankie shakes his hand and then Joel, who, a bit more reluctantly, grabs Frankie’s hand as he extends it.

“Come inside, and we’ll bar this door for the night,” Frankie says, stepping to the side and motioning the men towards the door before he turns to you. His eyebrows knit together as he sees your arm, still hooked into the opening of your jacket to support your shoulder.

“You’re hurt, what happened?” He shoulders the rifle and steps forward as gently reaches for your wrist.

“It’s my shoulder, Pope says the muscle is torn a bit. He’s gonna make me a sling.”

“How did it happen?” he asks, moving his hands up to your shoulder, his eyes searching yours for any discomfort.

“I’ll tell you later, I just wanna get inside and sit down, I’m exhausted, Frankie.”

“Of course, c’mere, I’ve got you,” he leads you inside and helps you off with your pack as Pope and Tommy shut the door and slide a heavy iron girder in place.

“We’re just a bit further in, we found a room with shuttered windows so we can have some light.” Frankie leads you all down a hallway and turns right, pushing open a door he steps into a classroom. The desks have been pushed up along the walls and in the middle Will’s got a couple of camper stoves set up, the smell of food making your stomach growl.

“Look who we found,” Pope grins as he waves Tommy and Joel in through the door. You can’t help but smile as you see Will and Benny look up, confusion on their faces at first and then, almost simultaneously, shift into huge smiles as they recognise their cousins.

“Holy shit, what the actual fuck?!” Benny whoops and jumps to his feet, grabbing Joel into a bear hug, “Where the fuck did you come from?!” he says as he tries to pick Joel up off the floor under loud protests.

“Put me the fuck down, Benny,” he laughs, slapping him on the back. Will and Tommy hug, big grins on both men and then Benny pulls Tommy into another bear hug, laughing as Will embraces Joel. It’s good to see the tension melt away from Tommy and especially Joel. He’d been guarded the whole way, not quite trusting that Pope and you were telling the truth. But now, seeing the four Miller cousins hug it out with big smiles, even Joel looks less intimidating.

Frankie gently takes your uninjured hand and leads you over to where his sleeping bag is rolled out, helping you sit down. You sink down gratefully and lean back against the wall, finally relaxing.

“Let me get your boots off,” he says in a low voice, the Miller boys still catching up and laughing behind him. You nod and rest your head against the wall, closing your eyes. Your shoulder is throbbing, you’re going to have to dip into your small supply of expired painkillers soon. Frankie pulls your boots off, and your damp socks, gently rubbing the soles of your feet as you sigh and shoot him a pleased smile.

“Thanks, Frankie,” you mumble.

“Anything, hermosa,” he smiles back, letting go of your feet. “But I need to check your shoulder, might be less nice.”

“Do what you have to do as long as I can have food afterwards, I’m starving.”

“You took a long time getting here, what happened?” Frankie asks, making you sit up so that he can slide your jacket off.

“There were infected everywhere, we had to stay hidden for long periods of time. Pope thinks maybe the noise from the bridge collapsing attracted them.”

“Yeah, we saw some on our side of the river, but not that many. How does this feel?” He gently prods the joint of your shoulder and you wince as he carefully moves your arm.

“Hurts and feels very stiff,” you say, glancing down at it. There’s a dark bruise forming and you can see the swelling around the joint..

“If we had an ice pack I’d put it on,” Frankie says, “But for now, keep it still, I’ll get you that sling.” Frankie steps over to his pack and rifles through it, coming back and setting your shoulder more comfortably against your chest. You watch his deft hands as he works and when he’s done you lean in and capture his lips in a soft kiss. He hums against you, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb caressing your skin.

“I’m so happy you’re ok, Frankie,” you whisper, “Did you get hurt on the bridge?”

“Just a few scrapes,” he says, his mouth still close to yours as he turns up his palms and shows you a few angry looking lines. “I had to clean them with alcohol, that fucking stung,” he chuckles, “but they’re fine now. How did you hurt your shoulder?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?” you say, pulling back a little so that you can see his face clearly and he frowns at you.

“What happened?” His eyebrows come together in a frown, his body stiffening under your touch.

“We, Pope and me, had to hide in a building when a group of infected surprised us.Turned out Joel and Tommy were already in there and they grabbed us, Joel twisted my arm behind my back. But they didn’t know it was us,” you say hastily as you see Frankie scowl and look towards Joel. “Frankie,” you pull his eyes back to you, “they just did what we would’ve done if someone unknown walked in here now.”

“Yeah, ok,” he relents, his face softening again, “Let me get you some food, should be done now.”

As Frankie stands up Joel comes over, he’s got a bowl in his hand and as he crouches down he hands it to you.

“How’s the shoulder? Sorry ‘bout it,” he says, looking at the makeshift sling Frankie’s put together.

“It’s sore, but it’ll heal, don’t worry about it,” you reply, gratefully accepting the bowl of stew and rice.

“Alright,” Joel responds, clearing his throat, “Good, and thanks for…” he waves his hand over at where Benny and Will are deep in conversation with Tommy, going over what’s happened in the six years since they last saw each other. “It’s good seeing them in one piece.”

“I’m glad we were able to bring you guys together,” you say as Joel gets to his feet again, nodding to Frankie.

“Good to see you too, Frankie.”

“Yeah, same, Joel,” Frankie replies as Joel turns and begins rolling out his sleeping mat.

Frankie grabs a bowl for himself and sinks down next to you, you’re almost done with the stew, wolfing it down.

“Got you some painkillers too, cariño,” he hands them to you with his water canteen and you gratefully swallow the two pills. Once they kick in you slip into your sleeping bag, drifting off as Frankie helps Ben take care of the dishes. You barely wake as he slips in next to you, careful to not disturb your shoulder, but you reach for his hand as he puts his arm over your waist, turning your head towards him as he places a soft kiss on your cheek.

The dull throbbing in your shoulder wakes you early next morning and forces you to get up, just to get some relief. There’s thin slivers of light shining through the shutters, giving you enough light to move around and pad out into the hallway in your socks. You’d missed any talk of having a watch roster last night but it seems you were allowed to sleep through the night. Tommy is sitting on a bench close to the door you came in through, playing cards with himself, a rifle next to him.

“Morning,” you greet him and he looks up.

“Hey, how’s the shoulder?” He scoots over on the bench, making room for you as you carefully move your arm.

“Sore and swollen, it’ll take a few days to get better, but don’t worry about it,” you say as you see his apologetic face, “you did what we would’ve done in the same situation.”

“Yeah, I suppose, we all have to assume the next person we meet is either infected or the enemy.”

“Not much trust going ‘round these days,” you agree, watching him gather up the cards and shuffle them.

“I wanted to ask you,” you begin cautiously as he starts dealing. “Joel’s daughter, Sarah?”

Tommy nods, his hands stopping as he looks up at you, “She didn’t make it, she died that first night,” he says, his voice low and you sigh and close your eyes.

“Fuck...I’m sorry, Tommy,” you look up at him again as he leans back against the wall. “I didn’t wanna assume but when she wasn’t with you, I had to ask.”

“Yeah, of course, just don’t mention it to Joel,” Tommy tilts his head so that he can look over at you. “He’s not one to talk about it.”

You nod, rubbing your hand over your face, “I get it, more than you think.”

“Frankie’s girl?” Tommy says and you hear the question in his voice.

“A few days after the outbreak, she got infected.”

Now it’s Tommy’s turn to breathe out a low Fuck as he drops his head back against the wall again. “I’m sorry, for you and for Frankie, she was a great kid.”

“So was Sarah,” you say, giving Tommy a weak smile, “Lucìa wouldn’t stop talking about her after we got home, she was bugging Benny to invite you guys over as soon as possible so that they could meet again.”

Tommy chuckles softly, “Yeah, I remember them thick as thieves at Denny’s, Lucìa following her around like a puppy.” He absentmindedly shuffles the deck of cards in his hand as you both stay silent for a few minutes, the soft snores of the still sleeping men coming from the classroom.

Tommy suddenly laughs softly, keeping his voice low, “I remember how annoyed Frankie got when I flirted with you that weekend, he got really possessive, those hickeys the next morning,” he grins and you feel your cheeks getting red at the memory, even all these years later.

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” you say and Tommy nods.

“Poker? I promise I won’t suggest the strip version,” he grins, dealing out the cards again.

You play a couple of rounds until you hear people stirring in the classroom. Frankie pokes his head out of the door and comes over when he sees you.

“Morning, sweetie,” you smile up at him as he bends to give you a kiss.

“Morning, cariño, you sleep ok? How’s the shoulder?” He lets his kiss linger a little bit longer than usual, his hand cupping the back of your head, before he pulls back and sits down on the bench next to you.

“Sore and swollen,” you say, shifting it a bit.

“I’ll get you a better sling today, just need a piece of wood to support your arm.”

“What’s the plan, down to Providence?” you ask, “I don’t know if you guys made plans after I fell asleep last night.”

“Not Providence,” Tommy says immediately, “we were on our way there but the QZ’s fell, overrun by infected.”

“Shit, what happened?” you ask, “We heard it was fine just a few days ago.”

“Not sure, but we ran into a survivor a week ago and he said FEDRA got challenged by another group when FEDRA kept cutting rations. FEDRA took out the other group pretty harshly, imposed martial law and people tried escaping or rebelling, it had been going on for a couple of months.” Tommy gathers the cards up and shuffles them before putting them back in the box. “The survivor we talked to didn’t know how it had happened, but infected got in, or someone who was infected slipped through the checkpoint, it started spreading on the inside anyway. FEDRA lost control and started executing everyone, so riots broke out and FEDRA left, just took the last working trucks and just took off.”

“Did you get to Providence, what’s the situation like there now?” Frankie asks, leaning forward to look at Tommy.

“We didn’t get to the gates, got told to not go anywhere near it, too many infected.” Tommy glances up towards the door as Joel looks out.

“Morning, Joel.”

“Morning, coffee’s ready if y'all want some,” he says and you can smell it wafting through the hallway now.

“So what’s your plan then?” Frankie asks as you go back towards the classroom.

“Boston, I think,” Tommy says, “It’s the nearest QZ from here, big enough.”

You sit down next to Will who gives you a quick smile and a mug of coffee, Frankie sinks to the floor next to you too.

“Thanks, Will,” he says, taking a second mug. “So what’s our plan then, if Providence is a no go?” He looks over at Will and Pope, “Boston for us too?”

“I don’t know about you guys,” Benny says, “but I think we should stick together, with Joel and Tommy I mean.”

You see Pope frown, he hasn’t warmed up to Joel after yesterday, and by the way Joel stiffens and scowls at his coffee mug, you know he’s not all for it either.

“I think it’s a great idea, Benny;” Tommy says, glancing over at Joel, “You guys are family and we know you and Will consider the rest of y’all as family too, we can trust each other.”

“What do you say, Joel?” Will asks, he can sense that Joel’s not totally onboard and the older man looks down at his coffee, jaw working as he seems to go over the options in his head.

“Yeah, might be a good idea,” he says eventually, but there’s still hesitation in his voice, “there’s safety in numbers and y’all are ex Special Ops, and like Tommy says, we can trust each other,” he says the last thing looking over at Pope who holds his gaze for a few seconds before nodding.

“Yeah, we can trust each other.”

Joel nods to Pope, the two men seeming to come to some sort of silent agreement.

You think it seems like a good idea, it makes sense. You can’t see Will and Benny just walking away from their cousins now, even if they’re maybe not the same people they were six years ago. And like Joel said, there’s safety in numbers and it’s forty miles to Boston, lots of bombed out suburban landscape to cover. You shudder at the thought, your shoulder aches, you’re in no shape to take on anything and the thought of having to cover forty miles on foot makes you miserable. Frankie notices your body shiver and slips his arm around your waist.

“What’s up, hermosa?” he whispers softly in your ear as he leans his chin on your good shoulder.

“It’s a long way to Boston,” you whisper back, looking over at him with worried eyes, “I’m scared, so much can go wrong.”

“We’ll go slow, be cautious, and not let Benny jump on bridges.” The last thing he says with a crooked smile, nudging your nose with the cool tip of his own.

“No more bridges please,” you say, giving him a small smile.

“Maybe I should lay off the arepas,” Frankie chuckles softly, his hand now rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. “Amor de mi vida,” he whispers after a while, “I can’t promise everything will be fine, but I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, I promise that.”

“And keep yourself safe,” you add, “you’re the love of my life too, Frankie.” He gives a little nod before his soft lips press against yours. You’re still sitting next to Will, right by the camping stove, but you’re in a bubble of your own with Frankie. The others talk about Boston, the route and possible dangers. You don’t notice Joel watching you with a frown, his fingers tapping on his thigh, before he glances down at the broken watch on his arm.

Chapter 28

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radicallxser · 5 months

Text

HEIR.

(this is a demo) based on an au that was based on transformers prime. anyways, peepaw and reader's love child's name is romeo. he's so supposed to be like 16 but he might not come across that way. peepaw highkey evil in this but he's also a simp so it's okay. reader is gn, but is called 'momma' and mother so idk. (e/c) is eye color, (h/c) is hair color, (h/t) is hair type/texture

You had always known you weren't the greatest mother. You couldn't provide as much as you needed to for your son.

But it was still so heartbreaking when he left.

He had left in the dead of night, he didn't even leave a note. You cried about it for days.

The last person you loved had left. Just like everyone else did.

You denied for so long, searching desperately for any sign of a potential threat.

But there was nothing.

The house was so much colder. The food didn't taste as good. You closed your eyes and saw his bright eyes and gorgeous markings.

You took on more duties for the village, trying to find something to keep your mind off of your boy.

You really just were the worst mother.

Romeo had loved his mother more than anything in the world. She was smart and beautiful and kind.

But he had to know.

He found the letters that his mother couldn't herself to burn. He found confessions of undying love from Leonardo Hamato, his father.

He had to know.

So he left. He was so sure it would break his mother's heart, but the man in the letters sounded so kind and he had money and power.

Leonardo Hamato, his father, could help them. He could make life easier, and he loved Romeo's mom.

So that led Romeo here, standing outside the biggest structure he'd ever seen.

Was this what the castles in those stories looked like?

He approached slowly, stalking forward and observing. Men were standing near what Romeo assumed was the entrance to the fortress.

He noticed the slight shock about them. Nothing uncommon for a mutant turtle. The men broke from their stupor, drawing their weapons.

"And who the hell are you?!"

"I am the son of Leonardo Hamato."

Leonardo was strong, smart, cunning.

But all that was out of the window when he had met them. They were wonderful, beautiful, smart, kind. He loved them. He had almost married them.

But he was dragged away too soon.

His father, Baron Draxum, had threatened to kill them, Leo's love. So he was forced to leave. He ended up killing his father for this reason, but he never found his love.

After years of searching, he had to stop before his heart broke further.

Leo used to say that he thought about them every day when he woke up and when he went to sleep, but he dreamt of them too.

When he fought in battle, he imagined how enamored they'd be to see his face coated in blood for them. The thought made him smile.

Suddenly, the doors to the throne room were thrown open, two men dragging a mutant in. The dropped the mutant at his feet, then saluted him.

He raised a brow and rolled his wrist, a gesture for them to continue.

"Master Leonardo, this boy claims he's your son."

The mutant tilted his face up from where it was pressed against the steps.

The blood dripping from this nose and brow were the same stark red as the crescents over his eyes. His eyes were a bright (e/c). His hair fell in (h/c) (h/t) locks.

Leo was convinced.

"Hello, Father", the boy croaked before his head hit the step and he was out.

#future leo x reader #rottmnt x reader #rise leo x reader #future Leo #vee writes #idrk #TMNT au

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spicysix · 1 year

Note

bestfriend!steve and reader are working at fv and it’s extremely slow, so they pass the time by playing a cute game of MASH. Reader starts picking names, locations, & pets and when the game’s over, Steve reads back his ending result (example: Steve gets to live in a house with Robin and they own a pet flamingo in the North Pole) but when he says your results it’s like the life he’s always wanted with you. (Example: you’re married to him in a house with six kids in Ohio with a pet dog) I hope this makes sense because at the end he mumbles some shit like “I’ve dreamt of this life with you” and the reader is like “same” and then they have their first kiss or something IDK it’s up to you

(If this doesn’t make sense that’s super embarrassing and forget i said anything LOL)

a/n: that did make sense, babe, don't worry! HOWEVER ksksksk i had no idea what MASH was and even though we have a similar game in brasil, i don't remember how to play it and was too lazy to try and learn MASH. so i changed it to fuck marry kill. hope you don't mind it, hope you like the fic anyway! ♡

warnings: just some cursing and, you know, the general theme of hypothetically fucking or killing people hah. and an absurd use of italics. otherwise, pure fluff

word count: 1.7k

↳ requests are open!

fuck-marry-kill

Tuesdays were slow days. No one stops by to rent out movies at the beginning of the week, movie nights are reserved for the weekend. And even though Monday is the beginning of the week, Family Video doesn’t open until Tuesday, so. Not a lot of incomes and most of them were returns, a five-minute-tops interaction and that was it. Anyway, Tuesdays were slow days.

Tuesday afternoon shifts were with Steve. Your schedules - yours, his, and Robin’s - always intertwined with each others’ because you all have bribed off Keith, threatening to expose him and his growing stock of porn he’d casually borrow from the job and never return. He had no choice but to make your shifts as to have at least two of you, together, most days of the week.

And Tuesdays afternoons, you’d spend with Steve.

He was a little fidgety today, you’ve noticed. Steve’s not a fidgety guy. He’s sturdy, reliable, steady. And not like anyone would’ve noticed Steve’s fidgety behavior, no, not anyone. But you’ve noticed. Because you knew him so well.

You knew Steve was not the best guy at opening up, but he was trying his best after a lecture you, Robin and Dustin had gave him about him having friends, and that he could and should open up to his friends, he wasn’t a burden, he was loved and wanted and blah-blah. You think it did got into his head, slowly. But he was still best at opening up with Robin, because they were two halves of the same soul.

So you didn’t meddle in. If he wanted to open up about his fidgetiness to you, he would. If not, he would probably open up to Robin. That’s okay.

“Kay, I’m done with the rewinding,” he showed up by the counter, where you were so busy doodling in a forgotten receipt. “Work’s done, I think we should be able to leave.”

You snorted, looking at the clock in the wall behind you. It was two forty five PM. You had been there for the insane amount of fifteen minutes.

“I wish,” you answered him, and he jumped up at the counter and sat directly behind your drawing - a DeLorean Time Machine, just like the movie. You guys have had a Back To The Future marathon that weekend.

“Looks good,” he complimented, and you hummed in appreciation, finishing off the last details, uncurling your spine and handing Steve the doodle before jumping to sit beside him.

Who cares if you were standing with your backs to the door? The store had a bell for that reason.

Steve carefully folded the doodle and placed it on his back pocket, like he’d do with every drawing you gave him. You gave him every drawing precisely for the fact that he kept them all - you saw them, once, when you drank too much and passed out in his couch after a get together. You woke up in his bed, all your drawings glued to the wall beside some Polaroids of your friends and the children you babysat - barely children anymore, but whatever.

You didn’t mention them once you went down the stairs and found him, Robin and Eddie in a huge hangover in the kitchen. But you could tell he understood the fondness in your eyes.

“We should play a game,” he said, after a few minutes of silence. He always did that, you were just waiting for the suggestion to come.

“Which one this time?”

“How ‘bout, Fuck, Marry, Kill?” you sneaked a sideways glance at him, not missing the smirk on his lips.

“Feeling naughty, Stevie?”

“Shut up,” he snickered. “Okay, you first since I came up with the idea. Michael J. Fox, Tom Cruise, Jude Law. Go.”

“You came up with that way too fast,” you joked, and he shrugged, not looking at all embarrassed. “Okay, I’d fuck Jude Law, I mean, have you seen him? Michael J. is the marriage kind, so dreamy! And I’d kill Tom Cruise, I’m not into military propaganda.”

“Valid,” he answered, laughing a little bit. “You also came up with those answers way too fast.”

“What can I say, I’m a made-up-mind kinda gal. Okay, your turn: Molly Ringwald, Carrie Fisher, Jennifer Grey.”

“That’s a hard one,” you nodded in agreement. “Uh… Fuck Jennifer, she probably has the nice flexibility thing to her body. Marry Carrie, she’s the nicest one ever. I’d have to kill Molly. Sorry, Molly. She reminds me of Carol too much, so I don’t actually feel that bad. Not into the preppy girl type anymore.”

You both laughed and continued the game for a few more rounds. You had to chose between names such as Van Halen, Bowie, Sting, John Taylor, Keanu and Ralph Macchio; and made Steve chose between Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, Geena Davis, Kate Bush, Olivia Newton-John and some others.

It was fun. Steve Harrington was a fun guy. He’d always come up with ways for you to spend time and make it pass by faster in your Tuesday shifts, and you were always thankful for that.

“Okay, I’m going nuts now,” he announced after a quiet time. “How about… fuck, marry, kill: me, Eddie and Jonathan?”

Your eyes almost poppet out of their sockets.

“Stephen! I can’t answer that, ew, no!” you screamed, and he laughed at your antics as you got out of the counter.

“Why not, C’mon, don’t be a coward!”

“I’m not being a coward, but you’re all my friends, I can’t choose! Even less in front of you!” you were only 50% freaking out, the other 50 was finding the whole thing kinda funny.

But you really couldn’t answer that. Oh, no, that would turn the conversation into a completely awkward one.

“Oh, so if it was Robin or Nancy asking, you would’ve answered?” he accused, in a knowing tone, smirk playing at his lips. Bastard.

“Well, yeah, maybe okay? Don’t look at me like that!” you pointed a finger at him and he put both his hands up as if in surrender. “It’s just, it’s a basic sleepover play, yeah?! We’ve all been there.”

“So you’ve played this already at a sleepover, is that what I’m hearing?” he cackled. “Did you answer then?”

“Doesn’t matter, Harrington, if I answered it then, ‘cause I’m not answering it now!” with crossed arms, and fighting not to let a smile out, you stood your ground.

“Okay, you’re a coward. Okay,” he also jumped off the counter, and leaned into it, hands on his hips - his usual mom stance. “Okay. I’ll go then! Between the three of you-”

“STEVE! I don’t wanna know!” you all but yelled, you should leave, really, afraid his answer would actually harm you, but you couldn’t because you also wanted to know.

“I DON’T CARE!” he yelled back, laughing. “I’d kill Robin, obviously, I can’t pick any other choice, I’d fuck Nancy-”

There it was.

“Ugh, you’ve already fucked her multiple times, it doesn’t count,” you murmured, rolling your eyes, suddenly all the humor in you evaporating.

“Woman, listen to me, I’d marry you!” he came closer, his hands in your arms in a firm but soft touch. You almost didn’t notice, but he was shaking, just a little bit. “I would marry you.”

Suddenly, he wasn’t joking anymore. I mean, yeah, there was still a gleam of humor in his eyes, but there was also… honesty. He was being painfully honest.

Your arms uncrossed all by themselves, standing loose on your sides, your eyes wide and your mouth dry.

“What are you saying?” you asked, teary-eyed, afraid you were misunderstanding.

“I’m saying I would marry you, because I know you, and I wanna get to know you even more, because I l-like you, and I wanna grow that feeling, because I can see a future with you by my side and I’m sorry if that’s way too forward, but I wanna be honest here, and I’m sorry that was the only way I could come up with, with something to break the ice first, but. That’s what I’m saying.”

His cheeks were flushed, and you connected the dots between his love marks with your eyes, and you connected the words he said to the way he was looking at you, all tenderness, as if you hung the moon all the way up in the sky, and he was beaming - beaming like the fucking ray of sunshine you knew he was, and Steve. Liked you.

He liked you.

Feeling like walls were tumbling down inside of your chest, you couldn’t help but throw yourself into him, hugging him tightly by the waist and he wasted no time before tangling his fingers in your hair and kissing your forehead with the gentlest of touches.

“I like you too, Stevie. Didn’t ever wanna say it, afraid you wouldn’t say it back. But you light up my Tuesdays. And all my days,” you were saying it pressed to his Family Video vest, the smell of laundry softener and expensive cologne and hairspray and the smell of Steve invading your senses. “Thank you for being braver than me and saying it first. I don’t wanna be nowhere else but beside you.”

You could swear you heard him sob, but you closed your eyes before you could check it, giving space between you, just enough space so you could cradle his face in your hands and kiss him. He tasted faintly of strawberry, and you knew he used just a little bit of ChapStick every morning to keep his lips moisturized - and, goddammit, it worked. He had soft, velvety lips that wrapped around yours gently, savoring the kiss as if he was savoring the most delicious of meals. His hands now in your hips, holding tightly, not willing to let you move, to let you go. He shouldn’t worry about that. You weren't planning on going anywhere.

You kissed for what felt like ages, making up for the lost time, for all the time you had been his, he had been yours, and you both had no idea about it. You only split up when a car seemed to stop outside - you remembered a Xanadu tape, scheduled for return that day. You caressed his cheek and opened your eyes, foreheads touching, catching your breath, and he was looking at you with so much adoration in his eyes you could’ve sworn you were melting.

“Who would you fuck, after all?” he asked, probably understanding the implied answer that you would marry him too. You chuckled, giving it a thought.

“Hm. Jonathan.”

“WHAT?!” he was scandalized, you laughed even harder. “No, no, Jonathan is a marriage guy, okay, you have to fuck Eddie!”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #lui writes #i'm on fucking fire with these requests y'all should send me some more

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pynchkilledme · 1 month

Text

One Day at a Time ✧ Yunho

✧ Pairings: Jeong Yunho X fem!reader ✧ Genre: angst; ✧ Word Count: 3.3k ✧ CW: established relationship; major character death; mentions of suicide; depressive thoughts; ghost encounter (kind of); ✧ Synopsis: When an accident changes the course of your life forever, your husband takes his last days on Earth to make you love life again.

[Author's Note]: Hello! It's my first time posting my work here so I hope you appreciate it. This oneshot started as a simple writing exercise, but I fell in love with it and decided to share it with the world. If you find any typo or you think something more should enter the content warning section please let me know.

The poorly lit road that leads to your summer house in the mountains always made you apprehensive, but on this rainy night, you couldn't stop your hand from sweating and every little thing made your tension grow.

The lampposts half hidden by the forest, the foggy windshield, the radio buzzing without signal, the heavy raindrops on the car hood; all these made you lean over the panel, trying to predict any abnormality on the road, even though it wasn't your turn to drive.

Yunho, behind the wheel, seemed perfectly calm. Almost like he had prepared himself through all his life, just to drive old cars on stormy days.

“Hey… chill out” he said while passing his right hand on your thigh between gear changes “,we are almost there!”

And that was the last sentence before that curve. The last words before a sudden flash blinds you.

“Hello, how are we feeling today?” the blonde woman inside your computer screen promptly asks as soon as you open your camera, but your sunken eyes give her the answer she needed. “Dreamt about the accident again?

It’s been 9 months and 18 days since the accident. 9 months and 4 days since you woke up in a hospital bed just to find out you would never hear your husband's sweet voice again.

“I know I said I was getting better and almost never had nightmares, but in the last 3 days…” you begin to describe in detail what makes your dream more and more real, waking you up out of breath every single morning.

Your monologue follows for a couple more minutes, remembering the sensation of Yunho’s arm holding your body against the seat instinctively. The doctors said the seatbelt would already prevent a fatal impact in your case, since the collision happened in the driver's side, but for you, that single gesture had saved you.

“Sometimes I wish I didn't come out alive” you dropped without thinking twice. After all, that’s what the two therapy sessions a week were for “I could be with him now, wherever he is!”

“I’m pretty sure that's not something he would want, Y/N” something in that soothing voice made you want to cry and you could already feel a lump up your throat “it’s a long process, painful and irregular, but…”

“You know, I think at this point he doesn't have to like anything” your crooked laugh mixed up with the teardrops flowing discreetly by the side of your face “It’s all too quiet, too boring, too empty!”

“And how is your adaptation to your medication?” Susanna referred you to a psychiatrist around 3 months ago and you were finally out of the sickening phase of the medication.

“Well, I didn’t kill myself yet!” acid humor was your way of dealing with all this situation, but of course your therapist did not approve 100% of your methods “I think it's finally stabilizing in the right dose, I’m already quitting the complementary medicines!”

“It’s awesome to hear that, Y/N! Soon you will be able to see everything more clearly” looking down, your therapist took notes. ‘You just need time to do its work’ you completed in your mind. Damn time. “Our time is up, see you on Thursday at 3pm?”

You nod your head yes and kiss her goodbye, going back to your loneliness as soon as the video call disappears from the screen. Seated there, in the kitchen of the house you bought together with such hard work, the feeling was overwhelming. You even thought about moving out, but leaving your memories behind didn't seem right to you.

Whether you want it or not, Yunho was in every detail of that house. The colors on the walls that you chose together; the funny food illustrations hang in the kitchen; the office in a mix of games, books, Spider-Man (his obsession) and sad movies' posters (your obsession). A penetrable structure of everything that you were together, everything your love conquered and dreamed of conquering. Structure that, despite being packed with all sorts of things, each day felt more abandoned and lifeless.

Without anyone humming made up songs; without anyone laughing out loud of a video they just sent you; without almost ineligible messages in the fridge door and without anyone pulling you to dance to the cheesiest songs ever written. It was an endless list of things that were and would never be again. Things that only made sense because of Yunho and that had gone away with him.

The thoughts were so suffocating that you didn't even realize you were standing there for 15 minutes, in front of the notebook screen, screen that was already black due to the lack of interaction. It was when you finally gathered your strength to stand up, closing the notebook on the kitchen table and going to the sofa.

Your days were mostly like that. Sometimes laying down in your bed when you couldn't get up, other times you could at least drag yourself to the sofa, changing the atmosphere a little.

Your friends started a rotation where at least one of them called you every day, but you couldn't keep a conversation for too long anyways. It always ended up in tears and you didn't like to be a burden to them, so you started making up things to do, be it an imaginary food in the oven or an hypothetical postman ringing your doorbell. Not that they believed you, but they decided that it was better to give you space.

About 3 weeks ago Susanna asked you to do a "homework" for the next session, a request that became more and more latent in your head as Yunho's birthday approaches. You couldn't convince yourself to do it, not when the exercise to deal with the grief involved writing a letter to your husband. One he would never read.

The estrangement also came from the fact that it didn't seem natural for you to write letters. The last letter you wrote was telling how your vacation was in 2006, on the first day back to kindergarten classes. 'Does email reach heaven?' you thought, giggling. If Yunho was here, he would probably suggest the simplest way possible to solve this. 'Send me a SMS' would be his first advice. 'If you have no data you could try via messenger, honey' he would say mockingly, but it would be solved.

Without a second thought you searched for your cell phone under the blankets. In your lockscreen a picture of the day you decided to take the train to the other side of town, just to visit a library that someone told Yunho sold coffee and a corn cake fit for the gods. After a few seconds of contemplating, you unlocked it and the screen opened directly on the bright wallpaper of Yunho’s chat. You had done that a billion times before, but you could never go past the last message. A picture of his passenger seat covered with 8 boxes of your favorite candy and an audio right above.

It was a 13 second audio and even so you couldn't press the play button.

'You just need a little courage…' your thoughts were interrupted by a weird noise in the back of the house, and you got up to search for it. The backdoor was locked, so you unlocked it just to take a peek out there. But there was nothing besides overgrown grass.

The sound of a door slamming and someone laughing broke the silence of the house.

‘Honey, you won't believe…’ that sound was enough to make everything around you stop in time. It was his voice. ‘I got into this store and your favorite candy was on sale!! Buy 3, get 1 free!’

The screen of your phone was bright on the sofa, showing the audio that just played. You didn't understand how, but while your tears flowed you just wanted to hear it again. And that's what you did. Over and over again.

In the audio before that, Yunho apologized for forgetting to fill the water bottles, but promised to reward you with kisses. All you wanted most was that everything got solved with the shower of kisses that Yunho always gave you when he got back from work, but it was impossible and in your subconscious you just wanted to scream.

“Why did you leave me here?” you said softly, against your impulses. When you closed your eyes, you tried to control your breathing, before all that ended up in crisis.

“I swear I tried to stay, Y/N” said the sweetest voice you’ve ever heard. The voice that made you shake with nervousness when you were just getting to know each other, and the voice that made you cry from happiness when proposed to you. A voice that only existed in your head and in the 2G of memory that your chat with Yunho occupied in your cell phone. Or at least you thought.

“But I’m here now…” this time the voice sounded almost real and a shiver went up your spine. An inexplicable fear of opening your eyes and realizing it was only your fertile imagination. “I was always here!”

You couldn't believe the trick your head was playing on you. Yunho, with his 1.85cm, was standing in front of you. His brown hair parted in the middle, falling over his tired eyes; the long sleeved white shirt you ironed in the morning of the accident was intact, fitting perfectly on Yunho’s body.

You couldn’t believe it, but you wanted to. Your body relaxed, leaning on the sofa. Your shaking hand inevitably covering your mouth, as if any uttered word could make it all disappear. That man, who you knew by the back of your hand, kneeled in front of you, his eyes sadly smiling, like someone who mourns.

“Are you going for a ‘Ghost’s’ remake?” you said jokingly, still unsure of what was all that. Yunho seemed exhausted, as if he didn't sleep for days, but he gave you a crooked smile showing he understood what you were talking about.

“Are you saying I’m as pretty as Patrick Swayze?” his hand on his chest showed he was flattered. Of course he was pretty. Even prettier than the actor and his answer made you laugh a little, releasing all the tears you were holding back.

You raised your hand to reach him, but they trembled as if electric shocks ran through your veins. He brought his hands under yours and you could see how your hands were smaller next to his, but you couldn't feel anything. This just intensified your cry, because all you wanted was his touch.

“I’m sorry that we can’t feel each other,” he said quietly, getting closer to you. - “I wish I could wipe away your tears and say that everything will be fine”

You didn’t know what was happening, but the voice that had always the power to soothe you wouldn’t have a different effect now. Your breath slowly returned to normal and you used your wristband to clean whatever was running from your nose. So many questions in your head, but for a while you just wanted to absorb every little detail of what was in front of you, just like the first time you saw him.

“I found out that you needed to talk to me,” Yunho jokes. Your mind was quite funny today.

“Well, it wasn’t- how are you even here?”

“I was always here, Y/N” tilted his head to the side, closing his lips in an almost unnoticeable smile “you just couldn't see me”

“And why now? A-am I dreaming?”

“Well, you can see me now ‘cause I kind of convinced the ones up there to let me help you. My time here is almost over and I started to feel a little desperate because nothing I did was actually working and-” the way he started to babble was too real even for a creation of your mind.

“How come… it wasn’t working? What were you doing here?”

“Uhm, I kind of couldn't let you here, not when everything around you was so gray. They said I couldn't be here past my birthday, ‘cause that would bring me problems and then I passed the last 9 months trying to push you out of bed, opening the windows so the sun could come in,'' now Yunho was the one crying and it was impossible to ignore the pain in his voice “it's been so hard to show you how life is still pretty… how there's a lot of things to live out there!”

It had become evident to you a long time ago how life wasn't worth it without Yunho in it. And well, it came to you way before he couldn't actually be there.

You remember like it was yesterday the path your bare feet made through the white clover lawn. A simple altar in the end of a corridor of mismatched chairs reunited the most important people of your life. On the sides your friends, the family life gave you, and in the middle your soulmate. The one on the other side of your red string and from that moment would be your forever.

You could see through your wedding veil how Yunho was beaming from ear to ear, his eyes resting on his red cheeks. You felt like running to the altar, so you could be by his side as soon as possible, but you held back as you smiled at your few guests, mostly from your families, who smiled at you with teary eyes.

When you finally got to the altar and raised your dress a little, Yunho looked at your dirty feet and laughed. And when he lifted your veil, your eyes connected just like when the two of you first met at college, as if there was a new constellation of possibilities. “You look like an angel” Yunho whispered tenderly and then you turned so the ceremony could follow.

“But I miss you. I miss you ‘cause you are in absolutely everything. Your smell is in the clothes hanging in the closet, your smile is all over the pictures on the walls. I hear you when I turn the radio on your favorite program and I see you when I wipe the mirror clean. My mind is always bringing you back to me as if it tortured me with your absence, as if it reminded me all that time that I can’t have you.”

He didn't say anything, just stared. His wrinkled forehead and lips so tight they turned white, denouncing the pain you both shared.

“There’s so many things I should live with you, so many places we would visit. It 's not fair! It’s not fair that the sweetest person I've ever met is not here to appreciate every second of the most banal things in the world…” the venting went out of your mouth like a thunderstorm. You wanted to scream and cry, but also wanted to utter the most beautiful words ever created.

Yunho wanted to touch you. Wanted to feel your soft skin one more time, caress your face and wipe away your tears. The ache he felt seeing you suffer was bigger than any physical pain he had ever felt in his 28 years of life. It felt like his heart was being crushed and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“We will never-” your voice fails with the thought. The matter that hurts you the most every time you think about your future. A dream that will never come true, at least not in this life. “I will never know what it would be like to have a family with you…”

“But we were a family, love! Nothing will ever change that”

“But I will never know what it's like to be a mother, Yu! I will never know what it is to look in the eyes of the purest form of love we could create. I won’t see you become a father and I won’t know how your eyes and my nose combined would look like in this little being.”

And suddenly he didn't know what more to say. He knew how much of a dream that was to you and how that specific wound would never heal with time. He knew that even though you could deal better with his absence one day, your heart would never get used to the impossibilities of the future. The part of you and of your dream that would go away with him, leaving a bitter taste behind.

“I am so sorry, honey. And I know that nothing I say will make this hurt stop. And it's gonna be tough, almost impossible, for a long time, but one day it will be less painful. And the next day less and less, till a day it will be just a little piece of your heart” the words barely came out of Yunho’s mouth and you already imagined how it would be to not feel anything at all. Never feel the thrill of a joyful day again if it meant you wouldn’t feel not even a second more of that pain.

“If you can't do this for you right now, please, do it for me. Live one day at a time, holding to the monotony of a routine till everything gets more tolerable,” you could see his hands caressing your thigh. “You're so strong, my love! One of the strongest people I've met. You gave me the best days of my life without much effort! Your smile brightened every moment, even when everything around was cloudy. My life was the most beautiful and the most complete with you and, despite being short, I wouldn’t change a second of it to live more if it meant not having you.”

At this point you tried to hold back your tears and a huge knot clung to your throat. Would you be able to do it for him? One last request that only you could fulfill?

“Promise me that you will try and I promise to meet you again. I promise to follow each of your steps regardless of how long it takes. I promise to find you in our next life, even if our thread gets tangled and the path becomes longer. I promise that this won’t be the last life we share,” you closed your eyes pondering if you could keep that promise. “Promise you will live everything you can live, always remembering I will be by your side”

Yunho raised his hand so he could place it over your heart. He didn't want to go, but he needed to. He just needed you to promise.

“I-I promise I will try” your voice was like a whisper and your fists clenched, your nails marking the palm of your hand as if it could remind you that this was real.

With your eyes closed you could feel soft lips touching your forehead. “I love you forever, Y/N '' this time his voice sounded like a thought.

When you opened your eyes, your living room was empty again. The wall was yellow with a small beam of light coming from the window. It looks like it's just you once again. The cell phone vibrated by your side and you picked it up to see the notification, but there was nothing. When you unlocked the screen and the white wallpaper of your chat lit up your face, you could see the selected message from 1 year ago.

[Yuyu]: I LOVE YOU FOREVEEEEER!!!

You were not alone and would never be. “Love you more, Yu” you thought while you brought the phone close to your heart. Maybe you could even live.

One day at a time.

#jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho angst #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez oneshot #jeong yunho x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez fic #yunho oneshot

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the-one-who-lambs · 5 months

Note

how many cotl related dreams have you had by now?

Oh my god all my new followers are gonna have to get caught up to speed huh? So if I rotate something in my brain enough, the likelihood of me thinking about it as I'm falling asleep makes my chances of dreaming about it astronomically higher. Most notably, every other month or so I've had like.. a lucid dream where Shamura and I are just vibing in what seems to be their library. (This is why Pura drew me the Shamura profile picture actually.) Results have varied.

I'm just gonna copy and paste directly from my dream log document I have in the notes section of my phone.

-Shamura Lucid dreams. What have we done... Just chatting, talk about fears and shit, gave them a bubble tea (didn't go well), hug (not super comfy but it was nice anyway).. mostly just talk. They suck at jokes. They are literally so sweet and CONSTANTLY DEPRESSED BUT their presence is so comforting I don't know how else to describe it. Such a friend fr. Looked through their library.. I didn't understand anything but it looked cool but also felt like if I looked at anything wrong I'd set myself on fire by accident. Idk. most recently I talked to them about Gender Thoughts™ and just asked them how they knew they were nonbinary and they hit me with a "Well how did you know YOU were nonbinary ::)" motherfucker you are ten steps ahead of me right now. Forget the trans allegory of trying to "crack the egg." They put it in the microwave and tried to fucking explode it.

-Heket was my wife and we went swimming

-Shamura ran a Mexican restaurant, made good nachos

-Abstract dream, saw all five bishops. Just kind of observed stuff from the outside rather than interacting with them but nothing was super clear, other than them reuniting

-dream that lasted like 2 minutes, Shamura with a little Narinder. I think I was like watching an animated short tho, they weren't actually there. (Note: I still want this so bad)

-I was the Lamb and I went crusading and when I was done Leshy gave me a reward. I don't know why. I chose having a new scar (love that getting injured was my reward) and another choice was like .. the bishops had stronger weapons to fight me with?

-Kallamar (I'm pretty sure from @meatcatt's Redo AU. Great I'm dreaming about AUs of friends now.) was in his Gaming Hole™ and I went to say hi but I startled him and he like... Broke his mug or something and the noise woke me up at 4:45 in the morning.

-Choose ur starter pokémon (Bishop). They were all little and lying down on a table. I wasn't able to pick just one so I made some fried rice instead?? Also I was moving into a house with Ryan (note: my younger brother. I'm the first of 4 kids, he's the second of us)

-I was immediately transported back to 6th grade with all the knowledge I have now and started making predictions about the future that were all correct because I had lived it. One of the things I predicted was some sort of apocalypse that involved a red fungus taking over the world. All of the Bishops were responsible for this, and I distinctly remember Kallamar in a spaceship.

-Leshy disintegrated in front of me???? I think I killed him with my mind I'm SO SORRY LESHY

-Saw Shamura on 3 separate occasions on one night. One they were helping me win a competition to win a house but the house was boobytrapped and haunted and I had to get through the boobytraps to win it wait how were they helping me exactly?, second we were farming together I think in that exact house and we had like so many vegetables I couldn't fucking move and third we were selling ice cream together.

-I saw Narinder!!! Finally!! I was in some. Sermon thing. And he was giving a speech about peace for his followers. Idk (oh wait I didn't remember I had dreamt about him before)

-Had a dream that I became Heket's vessel. At the end of the dream, she turned against me and tried to reclaim her crown. I didn't see that one coming, somehow. Also, the fight took place in my parents's bathroom.

#hannah's rambles #cult of the lamb #so basically ive just been like this since august 2022 #if this shows you anything abt how much ive thought about this game

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istumpysk · 10 months

Text

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

TWOW: Mercy (Arya)

She woke with a gasp, not knowing who she was, or where. The smell of blood was heavy in her nostrils… or was that her nightmare, lingering? She had dreamed of wolves again, of running through some dark pine forest with a great pack at her hells, hard on the scent of prey. [...] She took a breath to quiet the howling in her heart, trying to remember more of what she'd dreamt, but most of it had gone already. There had been blood in it, though, and a full moon overhead, and a tree that watched her as she ran.

A full moon, with Bran watching, how sweet.

Allow me to revisit an old theory from AFFC.

In 2014, George confirmed Jeyne Westerling will make an appearance in the prologue of The Winds of Winter. I speculated that it seems highly plausible that the tension-filled escort to Casterly Rock will serve as the focus of that chapter.

In case you weren't here for Jaime VII, AFFC, there is significant emphasis placed on how critical that escort is, and what a disaster it would be if Edmure and/or Jeyne were to escape.

Lord Beric may try to free Edmure before they reach the Golden Tooth. Jaime did not want to have to capture Tully for a third time. - Jaime VII, AFFC

"Show them in." At least the girl did not vanish too. - Jaime VII, AFFC

When Edmure and the Westerlings departed, four hundred men rode with them; Jaime had doubled the escort again at the last moment. - Jaime VII, AFFC

"We don't know where the Blackfish is," Jaime reminded him, "but if he can cut Edmure free, he will."

"That will not happen, my lord." Like most innkeeps, Ser Forley was no man's fool. "Scouts and outriders will screen our march, and we'll fortify our camps by night. I have picked ten men to stay with Tully day and night, my best longbowmen. If he should ride so much as a foot off the road, they will loose so many shafts at him that his own mother would take him for a goose." - Jaime VII, AFFC

"Good." Jaime would as lief have Tully reach Casterly Rock safely, but better dead than fled. - Jaime VII, AFFC

"—the Young Wolf's widow," Jaime finished, "and twice as dangerous as Edmure if she were ever to escape us." - Jaime VII, AFFC

The problem is, Lady Stoneheart is undermanned and not well positioned to intercept, and the Blackfish is one man against four hundred, so how could Edmure and/or Jeyne possibly escape?

Well, it just so happens that as we progress through Jaime's chapters, we get frequent updates on a certain pack of wolves.

The next day Ser Dermot of the Rainwood returned to the castle, empty-handed. When asked what he'd found, he answered, "Wolves. Hundreds of the bloody beggars." He'd lost two sentries to them. The wolves had come out of the dark to savage them. "Armed men in mail and boiled leather, and yet the beasts had no fear of them. Before he died, Jate said the pack was led by a she-wolf of monstrous size. A direwolf, to hear him tell it. The wolves got in amongst our horse lines too. The bloody bastards killed my favorite bay." - Jaime VII, AFFC

Hundreds of the bloody things!

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

If you are, scroll up, and reread the intro to Arya's first TWOW chapter.

Doesn't it feel like we're being offered a brief glimpse into the events of the prologue?

+.+.+

Half-light filled the room, grey and gloomy. Shivering, she sat up in bed and ran a hand across her scalp. Stubble bristled against her palm. I need to shave before Izembaro sees. Mercy, I'm Mercy, and tonight I'll be raped and murdered. Her true name was Mercedene, but Mercy was all anyone ever called her…

Get it, get it??

"Some call her that. Some call her other things. The Silent Sister. Mother Merciless. The Hangwoman." - Brienne VIII, AFFC

"Mycah." Arya stepped away from him. "You don't deserve the gift of mercy." - Arya XIII, ASOS

+.+.+

The air had grown chilly… and a good thing, else she might have slept all day. It would be just like Mercy to sleep through her own rape.

You know how they made Bran emotionally detached, and socially disconnected?

I'm being totally sincere when I say that's how I would describe Arya in this chapter. It's unsettling, and difficult to read.

+.+.+

Dipping a rough cloth, she washed herself head to heel, standing on one leg at a time to scrub her calloused feet.

At least she's bathing.

If you look hard enough you can still find remnants of Arya.

"Syrio says a water dancer can stand on one toe for hours." Her hands flailed at the air to steady herself. - Eddard V, AGOT

+.+.+

After that she found her razor. A bare scalp helped the wigs fit better, Izembaro claimed.

Arya following in the footsteps of Cersei and Daenerys.

+.+.+

One of her stockings needed mending, she saw as she pulled it up. She would ask the Snapper for help; her own sewing was so wretched that the wardrobe mistress usually took pity on her.

Again, if you look hard enough you can still find remnants of Arya.

+.+.+

Last of all she threw her cloak across her shoulders. It was a real mummer's cloak, purple wool lined in red silk, with a hood to keep the rain off, and three secret pockets too. She'd hid some coins in one of those, an iron key in another, a blade in the last.

What's the key? To the sanctum?

One passage was closed off by a heavy iron door. The priest hung the lantern from a hook, slipped a hand inside his robe, and produced an ornate key. - The Ugly Little Girl, ADWD

If it is, I don't think she's supposed to have one of those.

+.+.+

Most days she preferred to go the long way, down the Ragman's Road along the Outer Harbor, where she had the sea before her and the sky above, and a clear view across the Great Lagoon to the Arsenal and the piney slopes of Sellagoro's Shield. Sailors would hail her as she passed the docks, calling down from the decks of tarry Ibbenese whalers and big-bellied Westerosi cogs.

Is the harbor your favourite spot, Mercy?

+.+.+

The long way also took her across the Bridge of Eyes with its carved stone faces.

How could this not have something to do with Bran?

+.+.+

She heard a cat yowl plaintively. Braavos was a good city for cats, and they roamed everywhere, especially at night. In the fog all cats are grey, Mercy thought. In the fog all men are killers.

Same in the riverlands.

Behind it sat a woman all in grey - Brienne VIII, AFFC

but the woman in grey had eyes only for the pommel - Brienne VIII, AFFC

The woman in grey gave no answer. - Brienne VIII, AFFC

The woman in grey hissed through her fingers. - Brienne VIII, AFFC

The other girl in grey.

+.+.+

Mercy passed an old man with a lantern walking the other way, and envied him his light. The street was so gloomy she could scarcely see where she was stepping. In the humbler parts of the city, the houses, shops, and warehouses crowded together, leaning on each other like drunken lovers, their upper stories so close that you could step from one balcony to the next. The streets below became dark tunnels where every footfall echoed. The small canals were even more hazardous, since many of the houses that lined them had privies jutting out over the water.

You'll be fine. I trust you in dark tunnels, child.

+.+.+

Izembaro loved to give the Sealord's speech from The Merchant's Melancholy Daughter, about how "here the last Titan yet stands, astride the stony shoulders of his brothers," but Mercy preferred the scene where the fat merchant shat on the Sealord's head as he passed underneath in his gold-and-purple barge. Only in Braavos could something like that happen, it was said, and only in Braavos would Sealord and sailor alike howl with laughter to see it.

The Merchant's Melancholy Daughter and the Titan had me thinking this is somehow related to Sansa and Littlefinger, but I have no idea how.

+.+.+

When Izembaro had first dubbed himself the King of the Mummers, the company had taken a wicked pleasure in it, savoring the outrage of their rivals from the Dome and the Blue Lantern. Of late, though, Izembaro had begun to take his title too seriously. "He will only play kings now," Marro said, rolling his eyes, "and if the play has no king in it, he would sooner not stage it at all." The Bloody Hand offered two kings, the fat one and the boy. Izembaro would play the fat one. It was not a large part, but he had a fine speech as he lay dying, and a splendid fight with a demonic boar before that.

This play is sounding a bit familiar!

+.+.+

Izembaro was telling everyone that he expected the Gate to be packed to the rafters this evening, despite the fog. "The King of Westeros is sending his envoy to do homage to the King of the Mummers tonight," he told his troupe. "We will not disappoint our fellow monarch."

I doubt Tommen is alive at this point, I'm guessing they haven't received the memo. I could be wrong though.

+.+.+

Every mummer's troupe had to have a dwarf. He [Bobono] was theirs. When he saw Mercy, he gave her a leer. "Oho," he said, "there she is. Is the little girl all ready for her rape?" He smacked his lips.

There's a dwarf in this play! I wonder what role he'll play.

+.+.+

The King of the Mummers ignored the brief commotion. He was still talking, telling the mummers how magnificent they must be. Besides the Westerosi envoy, there would be keyholders in the crowd this evening, and famous courtesans as well. He did not intend for them to leave with a poor opinion of the Gate.

The Westerosi envoy is Harys Swyft, master of coin, and Cersei Lannister's new (old) lapdog. The keyholders are five officials from the Iron Bank.

That seems like a promising sign for Queen Cersei.

+.+.+

And Bobono's cock was indeed flopping out. It was made to flop out, for the rape. What a hideous thing, Mercy thought as she knelt before the dwarf to fix him. The cock was a foot long and as thick as her arm, big enough to be seen from the highest balcony. The dyer had done a poor job with the leather, though; the thing was a mottled pink and white, with a bulbous head the color of a plum. Mercy pushed it back into Bobono's breeches and laced him back up. "Mercy," he sang as she tied him tight, "Mercy, Mercy, come to my room tonight and make a man of me." "I'll make a eunuch of you if you keep unlacing yourself just so I'll fiddle with your crotch." "We were meant to be together, Mercy," Bobono insisted. "Look, we're just the same height."

Even his manhood was ugly, thick and veined, with a bulbous purple head. - Sansa III, ASOS

This play follows canon better than Game of Thrones.

+.+.+

He is teasing me, Mercy thought. He's not drunk tonight, he knows the show perfectly well. "We are doing Phario's new Bloody Hand, in honor of the envoy from the Seven Kingdoms." "Now I recall." Bobono lowered his voice to a sinister croak. "The seven-faced god has cheated me," he said. "My noble sire he made of purest gold, and gold he made my siblings, boy and girl. But I am formed of darker stuff, of bones and blood and clay, twisted into this rude shape you see before you." With that, he grabbed at her chest, fumbling for a nipple. "You have no titties. How can I rape a girl with no titties?" She caught his nose between her thumb and forefinger and twisted. "You'll have no nose until you get your hands off me." "Owwwww," the dwarf squealed, releasing her. "I'll grow titties in a year or two." Mercy rose, to tower over the little man. "But you'll never grow another nose. You think of that, before you touch me there." Bobono rubbed his tender nose. "There's no need to get so shy. I'll be raping you soon enough." "Not until the second act."

"I always give Wendeyne's titties a nice squeeze when I rape her in The Anguish of the Archon," the dwarf complained. "She likes it, and the pit does too. You have to please the pit."

Honestly, what compelled George R. R. Martin to write this?

+.+.+

Daena recognized some Gate regulars in the crowd, and pointed them out for her; the dyer Dellono with his pinched white face and mottled purple hands, Galeo the sausage-maker in his greasy leather apron, tall Tomarro with his pet rat on his shoulder. "Tomarro best not let Galeo see that rat," Daena warned. "That's the only meat he puts in them sausages, I hear." Mercy covered her mouth and laughed.

Hide the rat!

Not that it matters, but I'm a little thrown off by a Braavosi mummer having a Targaryen name.

+.+.+

The Sealord had never visited the Gate, but Izembaro named a box for him anyway, the largest and most opulent in the house. "That must be the Westerosi envoy. Have you ever seen such clothes on an old man? And look, he's brought the Black Pearl!"

[...]

"They should call her the Brown Pearl," Mercy said to Daena. "She's more brown than black." "The first Black Pearl was black as a pot of ink," said Daena. "She was a pirate queen, fathered by a Sealord's son on a princess from the Summer Isles. A dragon king from Westeros took her for his lover." "I would like to see a dragon," Mercy said wistfully.

Be careful what you wish for.

I still don't understand the purpose of all this Black Pearl x Targaryen backstory.

+.+.+

"Why does the envoy have a chicken on his chest?"

Daena howled. "Mercy, don't you know anything? It's his siggle. In the Sunset Kingdoms all the lords have siggles. Some have flowers, some have fish, some have bears and elks and other things. See, the envoy's guards are wearing lions."

It wouldn't be an Arya chapter if she wasn't struggling to identify a sigil.

+.+.+

There were four guards; big, hard-looking men in ringmail, with heavy Westerosi longswords sheathed at their hips. Their crimson cloaks were bordered in whorls of gold, and golden lions with red garnet eyes clasped each cloak at the shoulder. When Mercy glanced at the faces beneath the gilded, lion-crested helm, her belly gave a quiver. The gods have given me a gift.

Uh oh!

Dunsen, Polliver, Chiswyck, Raff the Sweetling. The Tickler and the Hound. Ser Amory, Ser Ilyn, Ser Meryn, King Joffrey, Queen Cersei.

+.+.+

"What of him? Do you know him?" "No." Mercy had been born and bred in Braavos, how could she know some Westerosi? She had to think a moment. "It's only… well, he's fair to look on, don't you think?" He was, in a rough-hewn way, though his eyes were hard. Daena shrugged. "He's very old. Not so old as the other ones, but… he could be thirty. And Westerosi. They're terrible savages, Mercy. Best stay well away from his sort."

George thinks calling the westerners savages one time is going to save him from criticism.

Every time a young girl calls 30-year-old men old, I smile.

+.+.+

"If the Snapper comes looking for me, tell her that I went off to read my lines again." She only had a few, and most were just, "Oh, no, no, no," and "Don't, oh don't, don't touch me," and "Please, m'lord, I am still a maiden," but this was the first time Izembaro had given her any lines at all, so it was only to be expected that poor Mercy would want to get them right.

Good lord.

What do we know about this play? We know a dwarf playing Tyrion is going to rape the maiden Mercy is playing. Any guesses who that might be?

I know what you're thinking, but it's probably not Sansa.

Mercy, I'm Mercy, and tonight I'll be raped and murdered.

Sansa wasn't murdered, and she'd have more lines.

+.+.+

"Seven hells, this place is damp," she heard her guard complain. "I'm chilled to the bones. Where are the bloody orange trees? I always heard there were orange trees in the Free Cities. Lemons and limes. Pomegranates. Hot peppers, warm nights, girls with bare bellies. Where are the bare-bellied girls, I ask you?" "Down in Lys, and Myr, and Old Volantis," the other guard replied. He was an older man, big-bellied and grizzled. "I went to Lys with Lord Tywin once, when he was Hand to Aerys. Braavos is north of King's Landing, fool. Can't you read a bloody map?"

Is that George R. R. Martin trolling his own fanbase?

+.+.+

"How long do you think we'll be here?"

"Longer than you'd like," the old man replied. "If he goes back without the gold the queen will have his head.

In case you missed ADWD's Epilogue, that is a pretty blatant spoiler sitting in plain sight.

Harys Swyft wasn't to travel to Braavos until after Cersei's trial, an event where there's a possibility she'll be executed.

Now he finds himself in Braavos, facing the prospect of losing his head if he doesn't retrieve gold for a queen. Doesn't sound like Margaery Tyrell, does it? Looks like Cersei Lannister managed to survive!

We're now forced to ask ourselves why Margaery Tyrell (Queen), Mace Tyrell (Hand of the King), Randyll Tarly (Master of laws), Paxter Redwyne (Master of ships - not currently in King's Landing, but I'm making a point), and the High Sparrow (High Septon of the Faith of the Seven) are suddenly granting Cersei Lannister the authority to do anything at all.

I have a theory: they're dead, she killed most of them at the trial.

+.+.+

"Longer than you'd like," the old man replied. "If he goes back without the gold the queen will have his head. Besides, I seen that wife of his. There's steps in Casterly Rock she can't go down for fear she'd get stuck, that's how fat she is. Who'd go back to that, when he has his sooty queen?"

For some reason, we're getting additional information about Harys Swyft's unknown wife. That tells me we might be seeing both her and Dorna Swyft in King's Landing soon (Kevan's funeral?).

"Hardstone has cleared the broken men from Darry castle," he replied. "Lancel's bride awaits us there."

"Will your lady wife (Dorna) be joining you for the nuptials?" - Cersei III, AFFC

"Your wife … do you mean to bring her to court?"

"No." Dorna was a gentle soul, never comfortable but at home with friends and kin around her. - Epilogue, ADWD

That should please Cersei.

+.+.+

When the dwarf appeared suddenly from behind a wooden tombstone, the crowd began to hiss and curse. Bobono waddled to the front of the stage and leered at them. "The seven-faced god has cheated me," he began, snarling the words. "My noble sire he made of purest gold, and gold he made my siblings, boy and girl. But I am formed of darker stuff, of bones and blood and clay…"

By then Marro had appeared behind him, gaunt and terrible in the Stranger's long black robes. His face was black as well, his teeth red and shiny with blood, while ivory horns jutted upwards from his brow. Bobono could not see him, but the balconies could, and now the pit as well. The Gate grew deathly quiet. Marro moved forward silently.

A mummer playing the Stranger appears behind Tyrion?

This brings me immense joy.

+.+.+

So did Mercy. The costumes were all hung, and the Snapper was busy sewing Daena into her gown for the court scene, so Mercy's absence should not be noted. Quiet as a shadow, she slipped around the back again, up to where the guardsmen stood outside the envoy's box.

Again, if you look hard enough you can still find remnants of Arya.

+.+.+

On stage, Bobono was bargaining with Marro's sinister Stranger. He had a big voice for such a little man, and he made it ring off the highest rafters now. "Give me the cup," he told the Stranger, "for I shall drink deep. And if it tastes of gold and lion’s blood, so much the better. As I cannot be the hero, let me be the monster, and lesson them in fear in place of love."

Bargaining with the Stranger? No damnit, hold firm, Stranger.

What is this drinking deep? Cersei and Jaime poison things? Joffrey's cup? I don't understand this.

Also, that last line sounds like something Daenerys might say.

+.+.+

She studied it carefully, to be sure. Am I too young for him? she wondered. Too plain? Too skinny? She hoped he wasn't the sort of man who liked big breasts on a girl. Bobono had been right about her chest. It would be best if I could take him back to my place, have him all to myself. But will he come with me?

He'll want me or he won't, she thought, so let the play begin.

Fuss and feathers, Mercy thought, they only know the Common Tongue. That was no good. Give it up or go ahead. She could not give it up. She wanted him so bad.

Are you having fun yet?

+.+.+

Mercy looked down at her feet, so shy. "Izembaro said to please the lords," she whispered. "If there is anything you want, anything at all…" The two guardsmen exchanged a look. Then the handsome one reached out and touched her breast. "Anything?" "You’re disgusting," said the older man. "Why? If this Izembaro wants to be hospitable, it would be rude to refuse." He gave her nipple a tweak through the fabric of her dress, just the way the dwarf had done when she was fixing his cock for him. "Mummers are the next best thing to whores." "Might be, but this one is a child." "I am not," lied Mercy. "I'm a maiden now." "Not for long," said the comely one. "I'm Lord Rafford, sweetling, and I know just what I want. Hike up those skirts now, and lean back against that wall."

"Not here," Mercy said, brushing his hands away. "Not where the play is on. I might cry out, and Izembaro would be mad."

Isn't this awesome?

+.+.+

He grabbed her wrist. "I'll do the teaching. Time for your first lesson." He pulled her hard against him and kissed her on the lips, forcing his tongue into her mouth. It was all wet and slimy, like an eel. Mercy licked it with her own tongue, then broke away from him, breathless. "Not here. Someone might see. My room's not far, but hurry. I have to be back before the second act, or I'll miss my rape."

She's so incredibly badass, isn't she?

+.+.+

"Mercy," he said. "My name is Raff."

"I know." She slipped her hand between his legs, and felt how hard he was through the wool of his breeches.

"The laces," he urged her. "Be a sweet girl and undo them." Instead she slid her finger down along the inside of his thigh. He gave a grunt. "Damn, be careful there, you —"

Mercy gave a gasp and stepped away, her face confused and frightened. "You're bleeding."

"Wha —" He looked down at himself. "Gods be good. What did you do to me, you little cunt?" The red stain spread across his thigh, soaking the heavy fabric.

The creators of Game of Thrones would like you to cheer now.

+.+.+

"Mother have mercy, girl. A healer… run and find a healer, quick now."

"There's one on the next canal, but he won't come. You have to go to him. Can't you walk?"

"Walk?" His fingers were slick with blood. "Are you blind, girl? I'm bleeding like a stuck pig. I can't walk on this."

"Well," she said, "I don't know how you'll get there, then."

"You'll need to carry me."

See? thought Mercy. You know your line, and so do I.

"Think so?" asked Arya, sweetly.

Raff the Sweetling looked up sharply as the long thin blade came sliding from her sleeve. She slipped it through his throat beneath the chin, twisted, and ripped it back out sideways with a single smooth slash. A fine red rain followed, and in his eyes the light went out.

There's Arya! Doing Arya things.

Earlier:

"You could be a mummer, if you wanted," she told him, as he pressed her up against the wall of the playhouse.

"Me?" The guardsman snorted. "Not me, girl. All that bloody talking, I wouldn't remember half of it."

"It's hard at first," she admitted. "But after a time it comes easier. I could teach you to say a line. I could."

Annndddd much earlier than that:

"Can you walk?" He sounded concerned.

"No," said Lommy. "You got to carry me."

"Think so?" The man lifted his spear casually and drove the point through the boy's soft throat. Lommy never even had time to yield again. He jerked once, and that was all. - Arya V, ACOK

Rest in hell, Raff the Sweetling.

+.+.+

"Mercy, Mercy, Mercy," she sang sadly. A foolish, giddy girl she'd been, but good hearted. She would miss her, and she would miss Daena and the Snapper and the rest, even Izembaro and Bobono. This would make trouble for the Sealord and the envoy with the chicken on his chest, she did not doubt. She would think about that later, though. Just now, there was no time. I had best run. Mercy still had some lines to say, her first lines and her last, and Izembaro would have her pretty little empty head if she were late for her own rape.

Make trouble for the Sealord and the envoy? Is the Iron Bank going to be forced to give Harys Swyft money to make up for this? Cersei Lannister, you never lose. Lol.

Anyway, notice how the author intentionally made that impossible to enjoy? Apparently David & Dan didn't.

Final thoughts:

And so, we reach the end of the last Arya chapter, a character who holds a special place in my heart.

Before we proceed, I'd like to take a moment to express my gratitude to someone without whom this reread project wouldn't have been possible.

Thank you, friend. We'll meet again someday.

Next chapter: Arianne II

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #twow #mercy #arya i

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coolwali · 11 months

Text

I dreamt last night that Naughty Dog released Jak and Daxter 4: Recollections. It came out on a Febuary for some reason. The premise was that Jak was in therapy for all the messed up things that happened to him and he did. He’s taking with the therapist. I don’t remember much of what he said. I do remember one line where he said “I don’t even like hoverboarding that much tbh. I only do it because I have to”. Daxter is sitting around and eventually gets bored. Saying he’s heading out to grab some snacks. As soon as Daxter leaves the office, the therapist then attacks Jak. The game drops the plot twist that the therapist is actually a future/alternate timeline Jak from a future/alternate timeline where Daxter died so there was nobody to help Jak onto the right path to being a hero so he’s become more villainous. His plan is to kill present Jak and pretend to be him so he can reunite with Daxter.

The game is then a bossfight where you control present Jak vs future/alternate timeline Jak. I remember this bossfight being really annoying because future/alternate timeline Jak’s gimmick was that he mimics everything you do only better. For example, when I used present Jak’s “Turn into Light Jak and slow down time” power, future/alternate timeline Jak also did the “Turn into Light Jak and slow down time” power. Only his was more powerful than mine so he’d be the one slowing down time overall and giving himself the advantage. When I used the shotgun to try blasting him, Future/aternate Jak pulled out his shotgun which had more range and damage than mine. I believe the solution was to try going through your moves as fast as possible so by the time he mimics one you’ve already switched to another and hit him with it but it was really hard and I woke up before I made much progress.

#dream #posts from a weirder timeline #i dreamed a dream #jak and daxter

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teddybasmanov · 20 days

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Lily of the valley, snow-white lily of the valley

Pairing: Dimi/Malenkee

TW: nightmares, mentions of death, mentions of firearms, implied nudity.

Word count: a bit above 750 (but since I decided to be weird and give translations instead of writing everything initially in English it's closer to a thousand).

Notes: Title from a poem by Tsvetaeva that is being sang here (there's also a full translation - for once not mine). This is absolutely not canon compliant in any way. I made up a patronymic for Dimi (it's from a book/movie character). I use they/them for the listener, but in direct speech in Russian I use he/him (which you wouldn't have known unless I've told you or you know Russian well enough).

They wake up in the middle of the night shaken by a nightmare they can barely remember - something with odd masked men. Their new friend breathes quietly by their side and they slowly sit up and put their feet on the floor - they need to go to the bathroom to calm down and they're afraid they cannot cry silently enough not to wake up the person right next to them. They pull Dimi's jacket from the chair beside the bed to put it over their naked shoulders - the apartment is chilly especially at night - and feel the weight of the gun still in their pocket. (If they weren't so distressed they would have though that it's just like that one scene from "Diamonds for the Dictatorship of the Proletariat", except they aren't trying to shoot their bedmate.)

They stand in front of the mirror for a bit, before turning on cold water and getting their hands under it before putting them on their cheeks. They feel stress tears starting to gather at the corners of their eyes and they let them spill - it's okay, definitely crying quieter than the running water. That's how Dimi finds them - dutifully wiping the tears off their face with cold water.

He leans on the door frame and they notice him in the mirror and promptly drop their eyes to the sink.

"Что-то не так, Дмитрий Юрьевич?" [Something's wrong, Dmitry Yurievich?] they ask quietly, their voice flat.

"Это я должен спршивать, что не так," [It's me who's supposed to be asking what's wrong.] he takes a step towards them.

"Всё в порядке, прошу прощения, если я Вас разбудил," [Everything's alright, I'm sorry if I woke You up.] they still aren't looking at his reflection.

He takes another step forward and gently puts a hand on their shoulder, "И именно потому, что всё в порядке, ты плачешь в ванной?" [And exactly because everything's alright, you're crying in the bathroom.] he says softly, not really a question.

"Всё правда в порядке, просто приснилась какая-то ерунда," [Everything's really alright, I just dreamt some nonsense.] they try to give him a smile, but it not very convincing.

He sits on the edge of the bathtub, getting to their eye-level, and pulls them onto his lap and they don't resist, leaning against him as they feel their shoulders starting to tremble and the tears coming out for real.

"Шшшш, мой маленький, я здесь, я с тобой," [Shhhh, my little one, I'm here, I'm with you.] he wraps his arms around them and whispers almost directly into the top of their head, "Что же тебе такое приснилось?" [What did you dream about.]

"Я не помню," [I don't remember.] they shake their head somewhere into the crook of his neck and their mind helpfully reminds them of an image from the beginning of the dream, "Только помню, что Вас убили," [I only remember that You were killed.] the last words of the sentence get drowned out in sobs.

"Ну что ты, маленький, из-за меня так убиваешься," [Oh, little one, and you're so upset about me.] he gently strokes their back, while they calm down again.

"Вы из-за меня жизнью рискуете," [You risk your life for me,] they say seriously finally lifting their eyes at him, "а я даже не могу вам ничем помочь". [and I cannot even help you.]

"Ох," [Oh,] he cannot help but give them a somewhat lost smile, "но, маленький, ведь я бы и так рисковал жизнью, только теперь мне есть за что - вернее за кого," [but little one, I'd be risking my life anyway, just now I have something - or rather someone to do that for.] he puts his hand on their cheek and it covers almost half of their face. They lean into it and drop their gaze again.

"Мне нечего ответить Вам на такое, и всё же я чувствую себя виноватым, что я подвергаю Вас опасности," [I have nothing to answer you for that, and yet I still feel guilty for putting You in danger.] hey put their hand on top of his and slightly turning their head kiss his palm.

"Ах ты глупенький, опасности значит он меня подвергает - да я может безопаснее, чем с тобой, себя в жизни не чувствовал?" [Oh, you silly thing, 'putting me in danger' - maybe I've never felt myself safer in my life than I do with you?]

"Если это так, то я скажу, что из нас двоих глуп не я," [If that's so, then between the two of us I'm not the silly one.] they finally return his smile and he pulls them in for a kiss. They wrap their arms around his neck and his jacket starts slipping from their shoulders.

He catches it, wrapping it around them again, "Пойдём спать, маленький, у тебя же и так глаза слипаются". [Let's go to sleep, little one, your eyes are already closing.]

They hum affirmingly, but before they make a move to get off his lap, he picks them up and stands up.

"Дмитрий Юрьевич, пожалуйста, не врежьтесь в стену, Вы же без очков," [Dmitry Yurievich, please, don't bump into a wall, You're not wearing your glasses.] they say almost half-playfully, while he carries them back to bed.

"Я могу ходить здесь вообще с закрытыми глазами," [I can walk here with my eyes completely closed.] he retaliates setting them on the bed and taking the jacket off them to put it back on the chair.

They settle in bed, he wraps his arm around them as they cuddle up closer to him.

"Спокойной ночи, Дмитрий Юрьевич," [Good night, Dmitry Yurievich.] they whisper into his chest.

"Спокойной ночи, мой маленький". [Good night, my little one.]

#jimち asmr #jim asmr #writing #?#when I decided to google how to properly transliterate Yurievich it hit me that 'Dmitry Yurievich' gives anyone #who spent any time on russian internet a very obvious association - but I assure you that was an intended outcome #it's from above-mentioned Diamonds for the Dictatorship of the Proletariat

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writersmorgue · 9 days

Text

the bnha x atla fic i dreamt in my sleep last night (vague details bc i forgor)

-I was midoriya in this POV- i was trying to get zuko to eat dinner with me and mai even though they were dating and i was in love with zuko

-i bought some super weird pear-flavored green glowy gin that looked like a potion but had no significance to the plot other than it took me a good amount of time to pick out (i promised zuko rum, they did not have any)

-the bartender checks me out and makes a quip and refers to me as the avatar to which i am like "yes this makes sense"

-i usher my group into a table outside and we drink for a bit. i forgot every detail during this conversation other than me pining hopelessly.

-suddenly: whales.

-i'm not kidding they get called to an emergency and midoriya gets attacked by a giant squid and turned into a whale. also three people die but that's not really important

-there's a moment in there where mido sees todoroki on an ice sculpture and he's like "zuko?" because i guess todoroki doesn't exist in his world but it literally is just todoroki with long hair and the same scar.

-it is not deku POV now, don't ask whose it is idk.

-there's a flashback because vaguely i am aware of thousands of people showing up out of the blue with different quirks (atla universe i guess) and someone makes a comment about midoriya missing out on new quirks

-midoriya is now just a whale and we're trying to find him. We do this by sending Jim and Pam from the office to the back of a whale watching boat and having them talk about how they fell in love. so then Deku!whale breaches and we're like "ayo beach yourself" so he does and now I'm laying on a sidewalk and there's a GIANT whale next to me and we're like "wow we missed you" and i think bakugo was there for this part i'm not sure. anyway all he needed to turn back into a human was to do it. so he does. now he's human again

-an undisclosed amount of time passes and midoriya is like "why are people being weird about me and unstanning me on twitter" and someone is like "cuz we don't know how those girls died when you all went underwater"

-mido is like "i promise they were evil and essentially killed themselves" and police r like nah we can't believe you

-we rp the entire beginning of this dream as ourselves, but now with added trauma because whoever i was in the second half of this almost drowned.

-i woke up when we got to a roller coaster with an chorus narrating what we were doing which made sense in my head but truly i do not know how to explain it

#and there you have it #whatever that is #my dreams #bnha #atla

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snax-writes · 2 years

Note

hi! thank you for taking the time to write requests! I’d love to read your take on Aaron being happy but a little jealous of how well the reader and Jack get on. maybe he feels like the 3rd wheel 🤣

[thank you for the request and i hope this is what you imagined!!! i saw your request yesterday and ended up staying up until 1 am working on it because it was so much fun.]

What doesn't get less if you share it? – a. hotchner

summary: jack has a nightmare and goes to reader for comfort. the next morning aaron can’t help but feel a little bit left out.

warnings: none

word count: 711

“Y/n?” A small voice woke you up in the middle of the night. You could feel Aaron on the other side of the bed, little snores leaving his lips. A small, warm hand found his place on your cheek.

“Jack, what are you doing up?” You sat up a bit, trying to get a glance at him in the dark.

“Nightmare.” His voice sounded like he had been crying. “Can I sleep here, momma?”

“Of course, baby.” You whispered, your voice almost giving out as he called you that. You helped him settle between you and his dad, your arm around him as he cuddled into you. “What happened in the nightmare?”

“Are you okay with being my momma?”

“Yes. Yes, of course, Jackers.” You tightened your arms around him a bit as you kissed his forehead. “Is that what your dream was about?”

“Mmh.” He nodded.

“I’ll always be your momma as long as you want me to.” You whispered as you run your hand through his hair until his breath evened out and he fell asleep. “I love you so much, baby.”

You had met Aaron about 6 months after his divorce and he introduced you to his son another 6 months later. After Haley had been killed, it was tough but you and Aaron had worked out every challenge. Now you were almost 4 years in, still going strong, always there for Jack, who you practically saw as your own. Him calling you ‘momma’, while ‘mommy’ was still reserved for Haley, meant the world to you.

You woke up again when Aaron’s alarm went off. He shut it down as fast as he could to avoid waking you up, but you were a light sleeper.

You sat up slightly, cautious to not wake Jack, who, after the last night, was still fast asleep. “Aaron?”

“Sweetheart.” He answered, his voice rough with sleep.

“Jack had a bad dream last night. I let him sleep here.”

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

You were a little taken aback at his tone of voice. “You need all the sleep you can get. I can hold a lecture with less sleep, you can’t kick criminal ass if you’re whacked because you didn’t sleep.”

“I’ll take my chances if it is about Jack.” He answered as he got out of bed and left for the bathroom to get ready as you sighed.

“Aaron, are you okay?” You leaned against the door frame of the kitchen, watching as he made himself a coffee. You had left Jack in your bedroom, letting him get some more sleep before he had to get up for school.

He turned around. “I- When Haley left- You came into my life and changed it for the better. And then she died and- It’s just sometimes- I can’t help it. I’m always at work and you have this strong bond with Jack…”

“You’re scared that he won’t need you anymore.” You stepped up to him taking his hands in yours.

“Yes.” He shrugged slightly. “And a little bit jealous.”

“I told you it was a bad dream.” You smiled softly.

“Yeah.”

“He dreamt that I would not be okay with him calling me ‘mom’. You couldn’t have done anything for him in that moment. He would not have listened to you if you told him that I love being his mom.” You smiled slightly. “Aaron, you are his hero. You know that and still sell yourself under your worth. You give credits where it's due every time someone has a positive impact on Jack, but yourself. ” You wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him. “He went to get the validation from the person he needed it from in that moment because you and Haley raised an emotionally intelligent boy. It had nothing to do with who he loves more. That will always be you. You’re his dad.”

“You’re his mom.” He settled his hands on your hips.

“And Haley is his mom. Love doesn’t get less if you share it with more people.” You answered, getting up on tiptoes to kiss him.

"Thank you for being so great with him." Aaron whispered against your lips, smiling.

"My pleasure. You know I love him like my own."

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think, send a request!

if i missed a content warning, please tell me and i'll add it!

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #haley hotchner #jack hotchner #criminal minds #snax writes

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flightlessangelwings · 2 years

Text

Don't Want to Fall in Love

Billy Russo x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 8.1k

Prompt/Summary: The women in your family can gain super powers, but it comes with a catch: you have to kill the one you love. After failed attempts, you decide to put that life behind you and live a peaceful life in New York City. But everything changes when Billy Russo walks into your life.

Warnings: smut (18+ only!), violence, death, family trauma, temporary major character death, injury, feelings, reader wears Billy’s robe at one point

Notes: After having this in my WIPs for like 2 months I’m finally ready to post! This does have heavy themes to it tho so beware of the warnings before reading. But this was fun to write and I enjoyed all the symbolism I incorporated in it. Let me know what you think! Mood board by me, and I hope the darker skin pic shows in the filter cause that bottom pic just screams Billy so I really wanted to use it!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog too to stay up to date on when I post!

Sobs filled the room as you stayed glued to your mother’s side. You were young, not even a teenager yet, and you had just lost your grandmother. She was a sweet and kind woman, and you and your mother were both very close to her. Your mother held your tiny hand in her as she wiped a tear from her eye.

“Mama?” you tugged at her arm with your little hand.

She looked down at you and you saw a brief flash of white light in her eyes and her hand felt hot for a moment. Your mother quickly regained control of herself and dropped to her knees to meet your gaze, “Everything will be ok, my dear,” she reassured you.

Even in your young age, something about her felt off, but you decided not to say anything. Instead, you turned your gaze back to the casket in the middle of the room and let yourself mourn your loss. This was the first time you had lost someone close to you, but it wouldn’t be the last. Not even the powers your mother carried within her could save those around you. In fact, they were the cause of everything you’d lost as you grew into adulthood…

You woke up with a gasp as you shot up in your bed. It took you several moments to regain your mind and remember where you were after your dream. Ever since you moved to New York City, you had dreamt of your grandmother’s funeral often, and every time it felt so real that it confused you when you first woke up. You stared at the shadowed outline of your hands before you buried your face in them as you tried to calm your racing thoughts.

Your life wasn’t glamorous, but it was calm and peaceful and you were happy with that. You lived in a cute little apartment in the city, had a good job, pleasant neighbors and coworkers, and the exciting sights of New York. When it came to your love life, you were happy on your own. It was better that way, both for you and for anyone else, and you had no intention of bringing anyone into your life.

The pressures from your mother got to be too much for you, and although you were best friends all through your childhood and young adult years, you decided it was best that you moved away from her. You never even told her where you moved to, and you haven't kept in contact with her since you moved away.

Her voice still echoed in your head often, especially when you dreamt of your grandmother’s funeral. Vaguely, you wondered if it was your mother’s attempt to get in contact with you, but you quickly pushed that thought out of your head. The longer you dwelled on it, the easier it would be for her to find you.

It had been years since you had seen your mother, and thought she wanted more for you, you were happy to live a simple life in the city. A normal life suited you, and New York had a lot to offer. Oftentimes, you would try out new bars in the evenings, and you enjoyed the time with your coworkers in new corners of the city a few nights a week.

Tonight, you were in a fun little bar with a delicious drink in your hand. You laughed with your companions as you let all your worries drift away. No problems with your mother existed, and your dark past was a distant shadow against the burning flame of the now. But, a voice next to you suddenly called your attention.

“Well hey there,” a suave, confident voice rang in your ear.

You turned over your shoulder, ready to reject any proposal on the spot, but when you were met with the darkest eyes you had ever seen, your world froze for a moment. He was the most handsome man you had ever seen in your life, and his dark eyes were framed by hair that was just as dark. Stubble lined his sharp jaw and he was tall and defined. The moment you laid eyes on him, something kindled within you that had never been awkon before.

Something within you made you drop all of your defenses and you replied with a breathy, “Hi.”

He grinned at you as he seemed to look into your soul with those deep, dark eyes, “I didn’t mean to bother you or nothin, but you’re the most beautiful woman in here, so I wanted to introduce myself,” he extended a hand to you, “Billy Russo.”

Normally, a line like that would earn a slap from you. But this time you gave him your hand and your breath hitched in your throat when his large, warm hand took yours. You gave him your name as you regained your senses, “So Billy, are you always this suave when you’re picking someone up in a bar?”

He chuckled as he looked down at where your hands were still connected, “I try.”

Your gaze followed his and you felt your skin burn with embarrassment when you realized you still held his hand, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Nah baby, you can hold me all you like,” Billy quipped back without missing a beat.

You looked back up and met his eyes once more, and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter, “I’m sorry,” you covered your mouth to try and hide your snort.

Billy joined in your laughter as he settled into the seat next to you, “Can I buy you a drink?”

You swallowed hard as you calmed yourself down again, “Sure.”

The two of you sat at the bar and talked until late into the night. All of your friends had left hours ago, and you were sure whoever was with Billy did too. You were one of the last people in the bar when you finally realized how late it was. It wasn’t often that you became so engrossed in a conversation that you lost track of the time. Yet, there was something about Billy that just drew you in.

“Well, it’s getting late…” you figgled with your empty glass.

Billy’s hand covered yours, which made you look into his eyes once more, “Wanna get out of here?”

His smooth words and soft smile made your heart skip a beat, “Yes,” you whispered.

Though you were no stranger to hookups, it had been some time. And with the most handsome man you had ever met, you were actually a little nervous. But it was more nerves from excitement as he led you to his luxurious car and drove you to his glamorous penthouse.

The two of you didn’t even make it upstairs before the passions boiled over. The moment the elevator doors closed, the two of you lept on each other as if you would burst if you didn’t kiss each other then and there. Your tongues tangled together in a heated dance as you each swallowed the other’s moans. Billy’s taste was intoxicating, and you instantly craved more of him as you clawed at his jacket.

“Just a second baby,” his breathy voice whispered to you between kisses, “There’s cameras in here. As much as I’d love to put on a show….”

Billy was a tease, though, and his hand cupped your ass as his other dragged across your collarbone. You let out a whimper as you felt his grip tighten and his eyes bore into yours. Just as you were about to protest, the elevator dinged and the gamor of the penthouse door greeted you.

“Well let’s get this going then,” you quipped back as you dragged Billy from the elevator.

“Yes ma’am,” he grinned as he let you in.

You were awe-struck at the beauty of the luxury apartment. Even from the door, you could tell the view was spectacular. But, you would have time to adbore that later. Right now, there was only one view that you cared about. And he made quick work of getting his hands back on you as quickly as possible too.

A moan escaped your throat as Billy captured your lips with his own once more. You surrendered to him as he guided you through the apartment back into his bedroom. You didn’t even look around the place as your eyes fluttered closed and Billy became your entire world.

As the two of you shuffled through the space, you tugged and clawed at the other’s clothes piece by piece. A trail of discarded clothing led the way into Billy’s bedroom until you both reached the bed with nothing on your bodies. Time froze for a moment as you each took in the sight of the other, and you swore you heard him curse under his breath.

Both of you moved at the same time, but Billy was able to grab your hips first as he spun you around and pushed you onto his bed. You bounced as you landed on your back on the plush, silky mattress.

“Billy…”

“Shhh,” he cooed as he dropped to his knees between your legs, “I want to taste you, baby.”

Before you could even form a coherent thought, he dove in and you felt his warm tongue along your folds. You dropped your head down and your hands latched onto his hair as he swirled his tongue around you. A loud scream echoed in the room as you completely lost yourself in the ecstasy that was Billy’s tongue, and no one had worked you as well as he did.

He flicked at your clit with his tongue before he alternated between sucks and licks. Billy hit every single spot that drove you wild with such precision that you vaguely wondered if you had slept with him before. But, you also knew that if you met a man like him, you would never forget, and Billy seemed to be sure to make sure of that.

In no time, you felt the rush of heat and waves of tingles under your skin and you knew you were close. Your moans grew louder and louder as you felt your entire body tense under Billy’s expert tongue. His hands gripped onto your hips tightly and you were sure if it weren’t for his grip you would have flown off the bed.

“Billy… I…” you cried out as you came hard on his tongue.

The slurping sound was obscene as he worked you through your climax. Your legs trembled on either side of his head as bursts of pleasure exploded within you. Your hands clamped hard on his hair as you tugged, but he didn’t care. In fact, it only spurred him on more and he kept going until you were a whimpering mess on his bed.

When he finally broke away, both of you exhaled deeply. Billy couldn’t even remember if he took a breath the entire time he devoured you with his tongue, but he didn’t care. He would gladly drown between your thighs if it meant your pleasure. He licked his lips before he wiped the rest of the evidence of your release from his chin while you calmed your breathing.

He leaned forward and hovered his body over yours on the bed as he kissed your forehead softly, “You good baby? You ain’t tapping out on me now, are you?”

You opened your eyes and found Billy’s face only inches from yours and his beauty almost took your breath away again. You quickly recovered, though, and you smirked, “Not on your life, Russo,” you teased as you wrapped your arms and legs around him.

Before Billy knew what was happening, you used all your momentum and flipped your bodies over so that he was face up on his back and you hovered over him. He looked up at you with wide eyes and you took almost as much pleasure at catching him off guard as when he was between your legs, “I like you like this.”

You leaned down and closed the gap between your faces once more and this time it was your turn to take his lips. You moaned when you tasted yourself on him, and the groan he let out vibrated between your chests. As you kissed him more deeply, you rocked your hips against his and your pussy rocked along his length.

He was big, but you also felt your own wetness drip onto him, and you used your leverage to tease him. Billy’s hands landed on your hips as he guided you along his cock, and you could tell he tried to lift you up so you would sink down on him. You wanted to tease him just a bit longer, though, and you didn’t allow him to take control again.

“Baby, please…” he breathed as his face flushed.

Fuck he looked so tempting like this, and you couldn’t tease him any longer. Carefully, you lifted your hips and reached down and grabbed his cock. You watched his face as you pumped it a few times and his mouth dropped open and his eyes shut. He looked lost in his bliss, and it gave you a satisfaction that you were the one who had this effect on him.

But whe he moaned your name, you knew he wanted, needed, more, and you lined yourself up with his cock and slowly sunk down. Both of you moaned loudly as you lowered yourself on Billy’s cock and he filled you inch by inch.

“Fuck…”

Neither of you were sure whose voice it was, perhaps it was both of you at the same time. The moment your hips met his, and Billy was fully sheathed inside you, you propped yourself up and slowly bounced up and down. Too eager to wait, you wanted to feel his cock as deep inside you as you could, and you wanted him to hit every spot inside you that made your toes curl. And Billy had no complaints.

What started as a slow, steady pace quickly became faster and more erratic as you rocked against his body. With every drop of your hips, you felt bursts of white-hot pleasure from deep within your core, and every moan and groan from Billy told you he felt the same.

“Baby… Fuck…” Billy held your hips so tightly that you were sure you’d be sore tomorrow, but you didn’t care.

“Cum inside me,” you whispered as you bounced faster.

With a grunt through gritted teeth, Billy’s head dropped down onto the mattress and he came hard. His relapse spilled deep inside you and it sent a shiver up your spine. Just as Billy didn’t stop right away, neither did you and you kept up your harsh rhythm until your second orgasm of the night crashed through you. Moans and groans filled the room as you kept going until you physically couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and you collapsed onto him.

Billy’s arms immediately wrapped around you and he held you close as the two of you came down from your highs. You felt his cock soften inside you, but the connection was still a comfort for both of you. His heartbeat helped you calm yourself down and you closed your eyes and rested comfortably on his chest.

“Stay the night with me,” Billy whispered into your ear.

“Yes,” you answered back without a second thought.

With a contented sigh, you blinked your eyes open, and for a moment you forgot where you were. The bed was so comfortable you could have instantly fallen back asleep, and the smell of Billy reminded you of the events of the night before. You stretched and groaned as you forced yourself up. You were alone in the bed, but the smell of coffee told you that Billy was in the kitchen.

Not wanting to wear your clothes from the night before, you went into the bathroom and found a black silk robe that you put on before you made your way to the source of the wonderful smell. When you walked into the kitchen, Billy stood at the counter as he put the finishing touches on two cups of coffee. He wore only low hanging silk pants and you had to remind yourself to breathe as your eyes traced the lines of his body.

“Good morning,” he sound cheerful as he turned around and met your gaze. He took a moment himself to drink you in, and his brows furrowed when he noticed what you had on, “Is that my robe?”

“I didn’t want to wear what I had on last night. I’m not ready for the walk of shame just yet,” you made your way to him and sat down at the counter, “Coffee smells amazing though.”

He smirked at you as he slid you a mug, “Only the best for you,” Billy paused as he stared at you for a moment, “And I hope you’re not ashamed to walk out of here,” he added with a subtle shimmy of his shoulders.

You took a long sip before you answered, “Never,” your voice was low but you knew he heard you.

Billy took a sip himself, but he never took his eyes off of you. Even when you didn’t look in his direction, you felt those dark eyes watching your every move. A comfortable silence took over the room as neither of you felt the need to say anything.

But soon, Billy broke that silence with a question that burned within him, “Can I see you again?”

Your mind raced. You wanted to see him again, but you were also scared of the feelings that he stirred within you. Something about Billy Russo was different than anyone you had been with before, and it was terrifying. There was so much he didn’t know, and so much that you didn’t want to face. But, as your inner war waged within your mind, you noticed his face dropped, and you answered before you thought too much about it.

“Yes.”

“Mama, when will I get powers like you and grandma?” you asked one night as your mother tucked you into bed.

Your mother placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll tell you when you’re older, my daughter.”

As you grew up, you asked that question more and more and it wasn’t until you were sixteen that your mother finally told you the truth. She sat you down one day and told you the story of your family.

“My daughter, the women of this family were given something special. But, we have to earn it,” she told you, “We are blessed with powers beyond anything man ever thought was capable,” she formed an orb of energy in her hand and you were mesmerized with how played with it as she spoke, “But it comes with a price. In order to gain this power, we must kill the one we love the most.”

Your face dropped. Suddenly it made sense why you never met your father, or why there didn’t seem to be many men in your family. Yet, your mother didn’t seem to be bothered by it.

“So you… Dad…?”

She nodded, “Yes, I did what had to be done. And now, the mantle passes to you, my daughter.”

Everything changed in your life overnight. While everyone else around you dated for fun and enjoyed their adolescence, you had a new purpose and a much darker goal. You were unsure of the means, but you wanted nothing more than to make your mother proud and happy, so you went along with it.

“If mom and grandma and everyone else can do it,” you told yourself, “So can I.”

You met Jack soon after that conversation, and your mother pushed you toward him after she saw you much you liked him. He was your first love, or at least you thought he was. He absolutely loved you, though. You were with him for a year when, under the guidance of your mother, you killed him. But, as much as you willed it to, it didn’t work and you never received any powers.

The guilt ate at you as you were thrust into your next relationship: Alex. But, again after two years and an engagement, that didn’t work either. Then came Sam, and although you tried your best, the ceremony failed for a third time. With every time, you felt a piece of your humanity chip away.

It didn’t seem to bother your mother, though. “It’s alright, my daughter,” she held you tight, “We can just try again. You’ll get your time.”

But, you couldn’t bring yourself to take another innocent life. So, for the first time in your life, you defied her. You packed your things in the middle of the night, and you snuck out before she woke up and realized you were gone. It wasn’t an easy decision for you, but you felt like it was the right thing to do. And during your time in New York, you had one night stands and quick flings, but you never let yourself get close to anyone.

That was until Billy Russo stepped into your life.

You refused to admit that you were dating Billy, but at the same time you enjoyed every minute you spent with him. It wasn’t the fancy cars, classy restaurants, and expensive gifts either. It was Billy himself. The two of you had forged a connection unlike anything either of you had in your lives before. Both having been closed off to the rest of the world, the two of you found comfort in the other.

Although you never told him the secret of your family, you found that you told him more than you ever told anyone before. You had told him about the rocky relationship with your mother, save for the magical detail, and in turn he told you his own story about how he grew up.

Billy had laughed bitterly, “Baby I don’t know what it is about you, but I ain’t never told anyone this before.”

You held him close and kissed the top of his head as he rested in your lap, “I know how you feel.”

The way Billy’s dark eyes looked at you made you weak when you were normally strong. Normally, you never went on more than a couple dates with the same person, but there was something about Billy that you couldn’t let go of. And you found you didn’t want to let him go. The way he kissed you and held you made you never want to leave. And when the two of you were alone in his penthouse above the city, it truly felt like you were in the clouds…

As Billy thrust into you over and over again, your mind swam in emotions. The feeling of him so deep inside you as he filled every inch of you was unlike anything else. His strong arms held you close and you felt his heartbeat in his chest as he laid his body over yours. He engulfed you completely, and you welcome it with open arms.

Your moans flowed from your lips as Billy rested his forehead against yours while he rocked against your body. He felt so good, and you felt all of his emotions that he never put into words in his motions. As his cock hit that sweet spot within you over and over again, you felt your orgasm quickly build. And as your body burned with the intensity of your passions, you found yourself in a moment of weakness where you couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.

“Billy… I… I love you,” you moaned before your orgasm hit and you came with a loud scream.

Billy tightened his grip on you as he groaned. He thrust into you harder and faster, lost in his own mind as you came hard around him. He whispered your name over and over again until his own climax took him over and he came deep inside you. Billy kept his thrusts as long as he could as he rode out both of your orgasms until he could hold himself up anymore.

He collapsed on top of you with a grunt, and you squealed at the sudden weight on top of you, “Billy…”

“Sorry baby,” he murmured against your skin, “You ok?”

You smiled against his hair as you buried your fingers in it, “Great,” you whispered with a soft kiss.

He was silent for several moments as the two of you caught your breaths. Your body may have been exhausted, but your mind couldn’t calm down. You couldn’t believe you actually said those three words out loud. Even more, you couldn’t believe you actually felt it for real. You made a silent promise to Billy though that he would never find out your secret; you couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.

Just when you thought Billy had fallen asleep on top of you, he broke the silence with four words whispered softly in your ear, “I love you too.”

Oh no…

Being with Billy Russo was unlike anything you ever could have imagined. To actually feel love for real, and to be loved in return, was something you never considered. But now that you had it, you never wanted to let it go. He was attentive to your every need, and even when he had to be away from you due to his work at Anvil, he always made up for the lost time.

Every time those dark eyes looked into yours, you fell more and more in love with him. Billy was your everything, and you were his.

He took you out to a fancy dinner one night after a particularly long time away, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw him emerge from his bedrrom all dressed up in his best suit. When you gasped, you caught his attention, and you saw the way his eyes burned into you as he looked you up and down.

“Looking good there baby,” he sauntered over to you and rested his hands on your hips.

“Right back at you, Billy,” you whispered as you placed your lips on his.

The kiss was soft yet it burned with passions. Billy moaned into your mouth as he parted his lips for you and wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you flush against his chest and you felt like you would erupt from how hot you burned. Your own hands roamed all over his chest before you tugged at his lapels and yanked him even closer.

Billy murmured your name against your lips and grinned against you

You moaned back and broke away from the kiss, “As much as I want to keep going, we do have a reservation to get to.”

He let out a short laugh, “We’ll continue this later then baby,” Billy placed one last kiss on your lips, “I’ll have you for dessert.”

“Billy!” you shorted as you shoved him playfully.

Dinner was the perfect reunion date at the exclusive restaurant Billy had made reservations for. Although, you did notice the way he stared at you all night as if he wanted to leap over the table and devour you then and there. It made your heart pound in your chest every time you glanced up and caught the way his dark eyes seemed to look right into your soul.

Afterwards, the two of you walked along the dock hand in hand and enjoyed the breeze that hit your faces. It was a quiet night in this part of the city, and the water of the harbor was a peaceful backdrop. You and Billy were the only ones around, and you felt safe with him. Even in the stillness, you felt at peace with his hand in yours.

But all that was about to change when a voice called your name from the shadows.

You gasped as you turned around and saw your mother come towards you with open arms. Your grip on Billy’s hand tightened as your pulse raced, though this time it wasn’t in a pleasant way.

“Mom…?” you breathed out as you tensed every muscle in your body.

Billy whispered your name in a question as he noticed the way your entire body language changed. His eyes narrowed as he immediately went on high alert.

Your mother ignored the way you stiffened and embraced you without a care, “I’ve missed you my daughter,” she then turned her attention to Billy, who glared at her in silence, “And who is this handsome gentleman?”

“Billy Russo,” he said shortly.

“What are you doing here?” you redirected her attention away from Billy as you stepped in front of him, “How did you find me?”

You hadn’t kept in contact with your mother in years, and you purposefully never told her where you moved to. All you wanted was a fresh start and a chance to just live a normal life away from the pressures of your family’s curse, but that seemed to not be in the cards for you.

She caressed your face in a way that made your blood boil, “You know how much I love you.”

You hated when she used that one on you as if you were still a child. It didn’t go unnoticed how she dodged the question, but you had a guess that she had honed her powers more over the years and she somehow found a way to track you down. Her grip on you tightened as her eyes landed on Billy once more, and you immediately knew the thought that popped in her head.

“Don’t…” you warned.

“Have you finally fallen in love, my daughter?” Her voice sounded light, but there was an underlying tone of venom in her words that made your skin crawl. You were sure Billy noticed it too by the way he tried to pull you from her embrace.

“Listen, this family reunion is great and all but…” he tried to interrupt, but your mother didn’t back down.

“You can finally do it then,” she cut Billy off with a shaper tone that made you both stiffen.

Billy was silent for several moments before he turned to you and asked, “Do what?” His voice hissed as he pointed his gaze at you.

Your eyes darted from your mother to Billy several times, and you knew your mother eagerly waited for you to answer yourself. With a heavy sigh you turned back to your mother and replied firmly, “No.”

“No?” she scoffed, “You don’t get a choice. This is what you are meant for. Just do it now while no one’s around!”

“Do what?” Billy repeated in a sharp tone that he had never used towards you before.

A dark smile came across your mother’s face, “My boy, she never told you about the gift that runs in our family, did she?”

Billy seethed in anger as he dropped your hand and in that moment your heart shattered. The look of betrayal on his face broke you in a way that you never thought you could be broken. Even without knowing exactly what was going on, Billy inferred enough to know that he was getting played, or at least that’s how it looked from his point of view.

She continued, “The women in our family are blessed with power,” your mother formed a ball of energy in her hand that glowed brightly as she spoke.

“Stop, please,” your voice cracked.

“But in order to get it, we have to kill the one we love,” her eyes turned to you and cupped your cheeks, “And my little girl finally found her love and gets her gift! With every generation, our powers grow, and she’ll be the strongest yet!”

“Enough!” you stepped forward and blocked Billy’s body from your mother, “I don’t want it, mom.”

“Yes you do. Everyone does.” Something about her tone made you shiver, like she wanted more than just for you to get your powers.

But you couldn’t dwell on it when you heard Billy whisper your name in a low tone. You turned over your shoulder and the look on his face made your heart sink.

“You used me,” even in the dark you saw the tears that formed in the corners of his dark eyes, “After everything, you…” he spoke through gritted teeth. When you tried to reach out for him, he backed away, “Don’t touch me!”

“Billy please, let me explain!”

“Fuck off,” he yelled back, “I never want to see you again.”

He ran past you and clipped your shoulder as he left you in the darkness with your mother. She tried to use her powers to stop him, but you jumped in front of her and grabbed her wrist, “No,” you yelled, “Let him go.”

Your mother’s gaze pointed at you and for several moments she considered her next move. But, she concaided and lowered her arms, “Fine,” she spat, “We’ll have another chance. Come on, daughter. We have a lot of catching up to do. I’ve missed you.”

She rested her hand on your back as she led you away. But, you kept your gaze on where Billy’s figure disappeared for as long as you could as a single tear fell from your eyes.

How were you going to fix this?

You waited a few days for Billy to cool off before you made your next move. You knew that he wouldn’t want to talk to you, but it still hurt when he didn’t try to reach out at all in that time. Carefully, you avoided your mother and made sure you weren’t followed before you made your way to Anvil one night in hopes of catching Billy there.

“Billy?” Your voice was meek and tentative as you stood in the doorway of his office.

He looked up from his desk and immediately his face scrunched in anger, “What are you doing here?”

“I just want to talk,” you stepped closer, “Please Billy.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” his words stung, “You used me. Like everyone else in my fucking life, you never wanted me. You just wanted what you could gain from me.” The way he yelled was unlike anything you had ever heard out of Billy as he laid his emotions out on the table, “I loved you. I really fucking loved you too,” he grabbed his gun and pointed it at you, “I could just kill you instead. Make things easier.”

You didn’t even react with surprise when he pointed his gun at you. All you felt was sadness at his words, especially since you knew from his point of view that they were true. You didn’t bother to try and move or defend yourself. Instead, you took a step closer to him so that his gun pointed right at your chest.

“Go ahead then,” your voice was raw, “Shoot me,” you stared into his eyes as you faced him, “I don’t care if you do,” you scoffed, “I fucking deserve it,” you took a breath, “But I just want you to know that I do genuinely love you. And I didn’t care about any powers or anything. I’d take a normal life with you any day than a superpowered life without you. But if it makes things better, just shoot me right here and now. I won’t stop you.”

Billy’s hand trembled as he kept his gun pointed at you. You saw the conflict in his eyes as he took in your words. And the sincerity in your face was obvious that you weren’t lying. It was a stalemate, and neither of you made a move. Tears filled both of your eyes as you stared at each other and the tension in the room was palpable.

But, the next move was decided for you.

Without warning, a crash through the window of Billy’s office broke your stalemate and a whirlwind of energy flew through the break. You recognised it immediately as your mother as you saw her launch herself at Billy, poised to attack.

You lept into action and pushed him out of the way before her energy blast hit him. The two of you landed on the floor hard and Billy’s gun flew out of his hand. Your body stayed over his to cover him and Billy looked up at you with wide eyes of disbelief.

He whispered your name as he saw the fierce look in your eyes, “You…”

You softened your expression for a moment and looked down at him. Just as you were about to say something, you winced in pain and fell forward. Billy said your name urgently as he sat you both up. That was when he noticed you were hit, and blood soaked your shirt on your side.

“You’re hurt,” he put pressure on your wound, which made you hiss in pain. Suddenly, your argument didn’t matter anymore, and your actions spoke louder to Billy than any words could. All he wanted to do at that moment was apologize and protect you, but another voice in the room didn’t allow for that.

“Always the sentimental, my daughter,” your mother stood at the broken window. She addressed Billy, “Don’t worry, she’ll be alright. I can heal her,” she took a step towards the two of you.

Billy immediately wrapped his arms around you and shielded you, “Back the fuck off.”

Your mother just laughed, “Don’t worry, I can’t have her die yet.”

Both of you gasped and you turned toward her, “What do you mean ‘yet?’”

She gave you a fake pout as her shoulders dropped, “I guess my jig is up, huh?” your mother sighed, “You can love more than one person in your life,” she explained in an eerily calm voice, “And it turns out when you kill another family member, it makes your powers grow even more.”

Billy growled, “You would kill your own daughter? For power?”

Your mother remained nonchalant, “I killed my own mother.”

Your eyes went wide as you stared at her from Billy’s arms as you suddenly felt numb. Everything you were ever told felt like a lie. Suddenly it made sense why your mother wanted you to gain your powers so badly; she wanted them for herself. She made sure that you two were best friends while you grew up so that you loved each other, but it was all an illusion. All she cared about was her own gains, not you.

You were so lost in your emotions that you barely even noticed that your mother prepared for another attack. Billy was on alert, however, and before you even noticed the flash of energy directed at you, Billy had pushed you aside and out of harm's way. You landed on the floor again, but this time you didn’t even notice your pain as you watched Billy take the hit himself.

“Billy!” you screamed as you ran back towards him.

Your mother watched the scene with a dark smirk on her face as Billy lay limp on the floor and barely clung to life.

“Billy? Billy?” you cradled his head in your lap as his breaths became shallow. His face was scratched and his chest was covered in blood. You couldn’t stop the tears that fell as you held him close, “I’m so sorry, Billy. This is all my fault. I should never have gotten close to you.”

Billy wheezed, “Hey,” he breathed your name, “It’s ok,” his voice was weak but he repeated himself again, “It’s ok,” Billy cupped your face with his bloody hand.

“No, it’s not ok. It’s not fucking ok Billy,” you cried, “I’m so sorry.”

It took every ounce of energy Billy had left, but he reached into his pocket for his knife that he always carried on him, “Do it,” he crooked as he shoved the blade into your other hand, “Just do it.”

You gasped, “No… Billy I…”

“It has,” he gasped for air, “To be you,” Billy took another labored breath, “You can stop her.”

Time was against you as you felt the life slip away from his body. Your hand shook as you held the knife over his throat. Tears blurred your vision as you stared at Billy’s face. You knew he was right. You knew that the only way to stop your mother was if you got your powers. It meant losing Billy, but at this point there was no stopping that.

You leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Billy’s lips, “I love you, Billy. And I’m so sorry that I do.”

The moment your words left your lips, you plunged the dagger into him. Billy gasped for air as the sting of the blade shot waves of pain throughout his body. But, this pain was short lived, and within moments, he died in your arms. You sobbed uncontrollably as you held his body and whispered apologies over and over again.

Suddenly, your body glowed as you felt a rush of power through your veins. It felt as if the force of the universe flowed through you and every ounce of energy was at your disposal. Your head spun as you looked at your mother through eyes that glowed white hot. Whether it was from the sudden rush of new power or anger, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that you had to harness it quickly and use your new advantage.

“There it is,” your mother grinned widely as she harnessed her own powers, “You are more powerful than I even thought you’d be. And you’ll make me the strongest person to ever live.”

“Shut up!” you shouted as you threw a ball of energy right at her.

She dodged it and the ball of energy crashed through the other window. Your mother quickly laughed herself at you and you ran towards her without hesitation. The moment the two of you collided, another explosion of energy burst from your bodies, yet the two of you stayed locked together.

You gritted your teeth as you pushed all your energy towards her. You felt your strength start to fade, and you knew you had to act fast before she got the upper hand.

“Give it up, daughter,” she growled, “I am your mother, you can’t beat me.”

“Like fuck I can’t,” you retaliated with another push, “I’m done being your doll. You can’t control me anymore. I’m taking control now, and I’m going to kill you… for Billy!”

With that, you formed a sword out of energy and swiftly stabbed your mother right in the gut. Your mouth dropped open as a silent scream escaped her lips and her energy dropped. In a fit of rage you pulled out your energy sword and stabbed her again until she dropped to her knees.

Your mother whispered your name in a plea as she looked up at you with teary eyes. She grabbed onto you and clung as the life slowly drained from her body. As you looked down at her, you felt no remorse. She took away the one person you loved, and she spent your whole life using you for her own advantage. Any sympathy you could have held was gone the moment she turned on you.

Suddenly, you got an idea. You moved your free hand over her chest and focused all of your energy there. You weren’t even sure if this would work, but for Billy, you would try anything. You closed your eyes and imagined that you could pull the life force from your mother’s body, as if you could pull her soul out.

The delthy gasp your mother let out told you that something you did worked and you opened your eyes enough to watch the life drain from hers. “Goodbye, mom.”

The last sound she made was a croak of your name before her grip on you loosened and she dropped down to the ground. You felt a new rush as you absorbed her energy and you kept your focus until you were sure she was dead. Once all of the life was gone and her face stilled, you released your mother and all of the weight that you carried with you from her teachings seemed to let go as well.

Once your mother’s lifeless body hit the floor, you rushed over to Billy. You dropped to your knees and hovered your hands over him. You had no idea what you were doing, but you knew you had to try. You didn’t want to lose him, and if there was a way to bring him back to you, you were determined to try.

Your hands glowed as you pushed the life force you took from your mother into his chest. You concentrated and focused all of your energy as you willed your powers to go through your hands and into him. You even pulled some of your own life force and channeled it into Billy’s body.

“Come on Billy, please,” you sobbed, “Come back to me. I need you.”

A burst of light blasted through the room as you gave it one final push. You felt the energy through your hands as you pushed it through once more until your body stopped glowing brightly. Your eyes and your hands resembled a low fire as a dim glow still emanated from them. You didn’t even notice, though, as you kept your gaze on Billy. For several long, agonizing moments, you watched his body in silence.

Until Billy suddenly gasped loudly and took a big breath in. You dropped your shoulders in relief as he coughed and took several more breaths.

“Billy!” you wrapped your arms around him and covered his body with yours.

“Ow, ow,” he winced.

You immediately pulled back, “Sorry,” you kept your hands on him and stayed as close as you could, “You’re back,” you whispered.

Through the pain, he gave you a strained smile, “I knew you could do it,” Billy took your hand in his.

You leaned forward again and embraced him, gently this time, “How?”

Billy wrapped his arms around you and held you as close as you held him, “When she said she could heal, and that you would be more powerful than anyone before.”

Truthfully, you didn’t even think about her words at the time. You were too focused on Billy and keeping him alive. And once you gained your powers, you acted purely on emotion and instinct. You weren’t even sure if it would work. Though you were more than grateful it did.

“Let’s get out of here,” Billy groaned in your ear.

You wanted to take him to the hospital, but Billy insisted that all he needed was rest. Vaguely, you wondered if he didn’t want any questions about what happened, protecting you in the process. But luckily, you were able to use your new powers to heal him completely, and all he needed was rest for several days.

The two of you barely left his plush bed. Neither of you wanted to let the other go, both in disbelief that you were actually here and you hadn’t lost each other. Guilt still nagged at you, though, and you asked him one night, “What do we do now?”

Billy shifted in bed and cupped your chin to make you look at him, “Baby, you’re the most powerful person on the fucking planet. We can do whatever we want.”

You let out a short exasperated laugh, “I never wanted these powers, Billy,” you told him softly.

“I know that now,” the sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat.

You traced the scars on his face that you weren’t able to heal, “I’m so sorry.”

Billy used the leverage on your chin and pulled you in for a soft but meaningful kiss, “I love you,” he whispered against you, “And I don’t regret it.”

“I didn’t want to fall in love,” you admitted in a hushed tone, “But I do love you, Billy. And I’m just happy I still have you.”

“Baby, it’ll take a hell of a lot more to get rid of me,” Billy quipped back.

“Let’s not chance it again,” you replied, “Losing you once was enough.”

He wrapped his arms around you and held you flush against his chest. You rested your head down and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, as if you had to remind yourself that he was truly still here. In the silence, you knew that was what Billy told you too. The two of you would have to figure things out from here, but as long as you were together, there was nothing you two couldn’t do.

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