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runningfrom2am · 2 months

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gem of panem // LTPF

summary: introducing regulus and regan snow; son and daughter of the most powerful couple the country has ever seen. the real gems of panem.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 4.2k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: dad!coryo!! finally!!, gamemaker!reader, this time the capitol brats are their kids, also a little bit of violence in this one!! some very minor medical procedure descriptions (trypanophobia havers beware- although that's me so i was VERY vague with descriptions otherwise i would have made myself cry)

a/n: i've had dad!coryo requested for this series a few times so here's a taste of that and an introduction to their kids!! ahh I've been working on this for so long i hope you guys love it :)

series masterlist // playlist

"I simply do not have time for this. Notify my husband." You wave off your assistant as you stand over the large round table in your laboratory.

"I- uh, your husband, Doctor Snow?" The young girl stammers.

"I don't believe I stuttered, did I?"

"No, Doctor. I just... I am uncertain he will be available right now."

You look up from the scattered pile of papers, and you can see her tense up. "I understand that he's our president, but he is also a father. He is more 'available' than I am a week before the games! Now go, he shall handle it."

"Yes, okay. I will, I'm sorry." She agrees, already pacing away and out of your sight and you get back to work, resisting the urge to attempt at rubbing away your now growing migraine.

"President Snow, sir?" Coryo looks up from his desk as one of his people opens the door for your assistant.

"Serena, my wife sent you?" He asks, standing quickly. It wasn't standard that you would send her instead of showing up yourself, or even just waiting until the end of the day to tell him over dinner.

"Yes, sir." She nods, looking down at her notepad. "Her office got a call from the academy, about an hour ago. They wished to speak with her about your son, sir. In person."

Coryo furrows his brow, already standing and grabbing his red overcoat. "Did something happen?" Why would they call the head gamemaker and demand her presence a week before the games? That seems incredibly careless.

"They wouldn't tell me anything other than the fact he is safe and not injured, sir."

He nods slightly, already brushing past her out the door. "Call the school, tell them I am on my way."

Coryo gets out of the black car, pacing up to the elementary wing of the academy's campus, a building he is far too familiar with. Walking in, he watches the receptionists eyes go wide as they both stare at him. He clears his throat.

"Where is my son?" He asks flatly.

"In the Deans office, President Snow." She replies and he nods, rubbing his jaw.

"Whose decision was it to call on my wife a week before the games are set to begin?"

Her face pales. "Well, um, she is the primary emergency contact for him, it is procedure to make that call first."

"So it was you?"

"Yes, sir."

Coryo leans onto the counter that separated them. "Right, well, maybe we should work on our critical thinking skills next time if we want to keep our jobs, yes?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. It won't happen again." He smiles slightly at her response, tapping his hand on the granite counter before walking off down the private hall.

He enters without knocking, practically slamming the door open and immediately searching the unnecessarily large office for your son. "Regulus, are you alright?" He asks, approaching the boy quickly when he sees him sitting in a chair in the corner of the room.

"Dad, I'm fine..." He mutters, arms crossed over his chest as he pouts.

Coryo crouches down in front of him, examining him closely.

"Coriolanus, I was surprised to get your call." The new Dean says, drawing his attention as he stands back up.

"Why is that?" Coryo asks, turning to his former classmate with a raised eyebrow.

She shrugs, standing behind her desk with her hands in her pockets. "We called for Y/N."

"A week before the games." He nods, approaching the desk slowly. "Are you not happier to see me than her, timing considered?"

"That's a good point." Persephone chuckles.

"Yes, she was not pleased you even called." Coryo replies, knowing he didn't even speak with you directly. "So please, tell me what is so important that you needed to interrupt both of our schedules."

"Right, yes. Please take a seat." She gestured toward the chair across from her own and he sits, only because it's polite. "So," She flips over a page in the notebook in front of her. "Regulus hit another student."

Coryo's eyebrows raise, and he turns to look at his son who's still pouting in the corner. "Come here, please." He pages him, and he saunters over, refusing to make eye contact with either of the adults in the room.

"Why?" Coryo asks him as he takes the empty seat next to him. The boy shrugs, still avoiding their gaze.

Coryo sighs. "Would you mind, Persephone? What happened?"

"Apparently..." She glances at her notes again. "Another student took his pencil without asking first and didn't give it back because, quote, 'they needed it and he had plenty'." She explains, looking up at them again. Regulus was the striking image of his father, his hair in the same longer somewhat disheveled curls that she used to remember on the man sitting next to him when they were that age.

"That's it?" Coryo asks.

"He hit him on the head, he's in the nurses office now being assessed for a concussion."

"Okay..?" He chuckles slightly in response. "Why did you have to call us?"

"Because this is a serious disciplinary issue." She scoffs, gesturing to his son.

Coryo looks between the two of them. "Okay, well, he looks like he feels bad, and I'll have my staff send an apology letter to the boys parents." He says, standing up again and tucking the chair back in. "Come on, kid. Let's go."

"Coriolanus, respectfully, this is more severe than that." Persephone interrupts. "We won't allow students to go around hurting others- especially over something so menial as a pencil. Eight years is too old for that kind of behaviour."

"You know his mother- don't you?" Coryo asks, raising an eyebrow at her. "I promise you, Dean Price, this is not serious." He turns then to his son. "Grab your stuff, I'll take you home." He says, and the little blonde boy rushes back to the corner to grab his bag.

"Coriolanus." She says again, exasperated by his lack of concern.

"Oh, and please tell the other boy that theft is not tolerated in Panem. He's lucky we won't have him executed." Coryo says, feigning a genuine smile at her with a sharp nod. He knows this isn't true, that executing a child over something so petty would never be considered in the Capitol, it would just be wasteful, but maybe next time he would think before stealing from the Presidents son.

She gives up at this, sighing as they walk toward the door.

Coryo shuts the door behind them, reaching forward to ruffle his son's hair.

The boy giggles, pouting and trying to fix it. "Dad.." He laughs, looking back up at him. "You're not upset with me, are you?"

"No, of course not." He grins, leaning down and placing a hand on his shoulder as they walk. "Did you know that your Dean is a cannibal?" He whispers, giving a quick nod to the girls at the reception desk as they pass.

Regulus gasps, looking up at him. "Is she really?"

"Yes." Coryo nods. "Tell your friends."

"Ew..." His son shivers, and Coryo smiles.

"I know right? Gross." He laughs quietly as they step out into the hall. "Now, where's your sister?"

"She's in English." Regulus answers and Coryo nods, leading him up the stairs and toward the classroom.

Once again, Coryo doesn't bother knocking before opening the door to his daughter's classroom.

Everyone looks up at once and the teacher pauses, gasps and whispers filling the room.

"Daddy!" Regan smiles, standing quickly and running down the stairs to the door, throwing her arms around his waist.

"Hi, Gem." He chuckles slightly, rubbing her back as she clings to him.

"President Snow..." The teacher smiles nervously. "We weren't expecting a visit today, but we were just discussing the significance of The Hunger Games and it's depictions in literature, would you care to comment?"

"Oh, interesting!" He grins, glancing back to Regulus waiting just outside. "I would love to, but Regan's mother is really the one to speak to about all that. Unfortunately, I'm busy today but perhaps we can get her in one day to speak in one of your lessons?"

"That would be wonderful." Her teacher smiles. "Then, what brings you in?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry for interrupting, but I'll be pulling Regan for the day." He explains and his daughter gasps, looking up at him with excitement. "Yeah." He whispers to her, patting her head. "Go get your things."

"Oh! Okay, did you sign her out? Typically they would call me beforehand." The teacher replies as Regan goes back to her seat, grabbing her things and being not so sneaky about sticking her tongue out at her classmates.

"No, I just decided to grab her while I was here. Just call the office and let them know I took her." He smiles, opening his arm to his daughter again as she comes back.

Regan practically skips out of the room, super excited to be free of something she already hears about endlessly at home. "What happened, Daddy? Why are we leaving?" She asks, grabbing her father's hand.

"Well, my schedule cleared up and I just thought 'Hm... I sure am missing my favourite girl today,' and then I remembered your last report card and how incredibly well you are doing and decided you deserved a day off."

"Really?!" She squeals, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Of course, Sweetheart." Coryo chuckles, scooping her up to carry her down the stairs.

"Lux, what would you like to do today? Anything you want." He looks down at the boy walking next to them.

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Daddy, can we go see Mum?" Regan asks, looking up at him with a hopeful sparkle in her eyes. "I want to see her pets!"

Coryo chews the inside of his cheek. It's certainly not a good time, but if he would be with them maybe they could just sneak in to say hello. He found it extremely difficult to say no to her. "Sure, Darling." He nods, opening the front door to the academy.

"Okay, remember, Mum is very busy so we're just going to pop in to say hello, and if she says it's okay we can go see her pets." Coryo explains to the kids as they get out of the car outside the Citadel. "We're going to be quiet, and not touch a single thing unless I say it's okay."

Regan's blonde pigtails bounce as she runs up the stairs in front of the building, having abandoned her bag in the car. Regulus is right on her heels, reaching for her hair as if he's going to pull it.

They were under a year apart in age, 'district twins', as Ma Plinth had dubbed them when Regan was born. When you were expecting your son, the games were difficult to plan and execute. You would never admit it, but Coryo could see that the hormones of pregnancy made you almost sympathetic to the tributes and their families- you could hardly even watch the games you spent a year meticulously planning. You spent most of the time you could watch with a bucket in your lap. So when Coryo suggested you have your second right away, you were skeptical. You didn't want to go through that again right away, but he wasn't sure he could convince you to do it again if you decided to wait.

"Let's just get it over with," He had insisted. "Then we'll have our two beautiful babies and you'll never have to do it again. Everything will go back to normal." You couldn't argue with that logic.

So when Regulus was eleven months old, the Capitol was buzzing with excitement over the announcement that the First Lady of Panem had given birth to another child; a baby girl, and she was perfect.

"Gem of Panem! What do we have here?" Your receptionist grins as the three of them stroll in, eyes locked on the kids as Regan holds her head high. The receptionist is rounding the desk, crouching down and opening her arms for the little girl who happily runs into them. "If it isn't the real gem of Panem, how are you, Miss Regan?"

"I'm good." Regan giggles, arms wrapped around the woman's neck. "Daddy picked me up from school early."

"I see that." She chuckles, standing up and lifting the seven year old onto her hip as she looks at Coryo.

"I decided to let the kids have the rest of the day off today, and they wanted to come say hi to Doctor Snow." He explains. "If she has a moment."

"Oh, that's a good question..." The woman nods, gently lowering Regan back to the ground and circling the desk again, pulling up the paper schedule and scanning over it for a moment. "You know what, let me call her and just ask."

Your phone rings on your desk in the corner and you sigh, heels clicking across the floor as you pace over. "I swear to god if it is the school again..." You mumble to yourself, picking up the line. "What is it?"

"Doctor Snow, sorry to bug you, but your family is here."

"My family..." You ask, mind still set on the technical details of the almost prepared arena.

"Yes, Doctor. President Snow has brought your children by, they wish to see you, but only if you have time."

You blink, realizing what she said. "Okay, yes. That's fine. Send them down."

You can hear your kids before you see them, Regan talking away mostly to herself as they step out of the elevator into the part of your lab that held your office. You sigh, quickly removing your leather gloves and fixing the disheveled state of your hair before stepping out into the hall to greet them.

"Mummy!" Your daughter squeals, running toward you as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

"Hi, Gem..." You laugh slightly, eyes now focussed on Regulus. He's shifting on his feet, standing so close to his father's side that he's almost standing behind him.

"Lux," You let your daughter go, opening your arms to him. "Come here, darling. What's wrong? What happened?"

He doesn't say anything, eyes locked on the ground as he walks up to you and leans into your shoulder. "Are you hurt?" He slightly shakes his head and you pick him up, allowing him to wrap his legs around your waist and arms around your neck.

You look pointedly at your husband.

'I'll tell you about it later' He mouths to you and you nod, gently rubbing circles into the boys back while Regan pulls on your lab coat impatiently.

"Mummm," She whines, already stomping her foot on the ground since your attention was no longer on her. "Mum, I want to see your pets and Daddy said we could."

"I said maybe, Gem." Coryo laughs slightly.

You chew on your lip, not minding the deteriorating state of your red lipstick. You were really anxious to find out what happened with Regulus, so maybe letting the kids entertain themselves for just a moment would allow you a second to talk to Coryo about it.

"Sure, of course you can. We'll just have to be quick, Mum is very busy today." You smile, gently putting your son down as his head perks up at the idea. "Come on." You take his hand, leading them all down the hall to one particularly safe section of your lab.

There are a series of mutts under testing and development here, but in this room close to your office, it contained only small animals like mice and rats, or bugs that the kids never showed much interest in. "Don't touch a thing, okay?" You tell them as you unlock the door.

The kids rush in, running up to a tank and immediately gawking at its contents. You didn't understand why, fully, since they just looked like regular old house mice. Your kids just wanted to be involved, you supposed. The same way Regan enjoyed sitting on Coryo's lap while he gave speeches or did interviews, but Regulus had always shown more of an interest in what you did behind the scenes, not just in front of the cameras.

"What happened?" You ask Coryo quietly as soon as they are sufficiently occupied.

Coryo chuckles, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing your cheek as you keep your eyes locked on the kids. "Hello to you too."

You sigh, smiling as you lean into him. "Hi. Sorry. I'm just a little stressed."

"I know, love. Don't worry about it." He squeezes your side. "We'll get out of your hair in a few minutes."

"What happened with him?" You ask again.

"He hit another kid." Coryo states plainly and you gasp, turning to fully look at him for the first time.

"What?" You ask, searching his expression for any clue that he may have been kidding.

He shrugs. "They stole his pencil and refused to give it back."

"Oh, well, then they deserved it." You scoff. "Little brat- did you get the names of the parents?"

He laughs quietly, shaking his head and reaching up to hold your cheek. "I handled it. Don't worry about a thing." You don't have the chance to argue before he's kissing you to hush any of your concerns.

You hum against his lips, pressing a hand to his chest. "But, Coryo-"

"I handled it." He reminds you, just gently biting down on your lower lip. You can feel him smiling against you and you hum, allowing yourself to relax for just a moment.

Coryo takes the opportunity to turn to face you fully, dragging his hands down over your hips and backing you against the wall just behind you.

The kids were there, yes, but they were well used to seeing you kiss. It didn't bother either of you, and they had never known anything else. One day they may complain, but until that day came you would take every opportunity granted to you within your mutually tight schedules. Besides, the kids should know what love looks like. High expectations are good expectations, in your opinion.

The moment is interrupted by your phone ringing in your office down the hall and you quickly take a step back. With the tributes already in the Capitol, you couldn't afford to miss a call. Anything could happen- you know that story well.

"I'm sorry, I need to get that." You say and he nods as you turn to the kids. "Lux, Gem, come on. Time to go."

"Mum!" Regan whines, stomping her foot down as she always tended to do. "We just got here, can't we stay a few more minutes?"

"No, Regan. Out. Come on." You motion for them to come and they do, but your daughter in particular looks extremely unpleased as she stomps past you and out the door while Regulus follows with his hands tucked in his pockets. You turn off the light and lock the door.

"Okay, I'll see you at home tonight. Yes?" You kiss your husbands cheek and he smiles, giving you another quick kiss before you disappear into your office and shut the door behind you.

You take the call, and of course it was nothing of importance. So many things had to be run by you as head gamemaker that they felt it necessary to call and confirm the contents of what would be fed to the tributes. It never ended.

You don't even get the time to process where you had left off with your work before you're overwhelmed by voices. Your name being yelled by your husband accompanied by screaming, horrified pained screaming- which you quickly identify as coming from Regan. Your motherly instincts kick in before you even know it and you're throwing your door back open and are standing in the hall.

Coryo rushes out of the elevator with your daughter in his arms, his eyes wide as he moves quickly toward you. "It bit her! Something bit her- I don't know, I-"

You nod; there's no time for questions. "Okay, get her to the exam room." Moving as quickly as possible down the hall, you're grabbing at her little red blazer and pulling the sleeves up as she keeps screaming bloody murder.

You shove the door open and rush inside, for the first time noticing Regulus following behind you. You grab his shirt and pull him in while Coryo quickly lays her on the table. Even in the panic, you couldn't leave him unsupervised anywhere in the lab. Especially if something had escaped.

"Get her top unbuttoned, I'll need her arm free!" You tell Coryo as you shuffle around through the cupboard quickly trying to find everything you were looking for. A syringe, the antidote for whatever it may be. You don't even know. Glancing over your shoulder, her skin looks flushed with red patches showing up on her neck and face; but it could just be from crying.

Coryo's hands are shaking as his daughter continues to scream and cry in his face, making it harder for him to get her blazer off and unbutton her top. "You're going to be okay, darling. Shh, shh... Mum's gonna help." All he can think about while he pulls off her blazer and frees her arms from the little blue shirt is the time that he saw Clemensia Dovecote get bit by one of Gaul's snakes. He thought she was dead, and she walked out of the hospital wishing that she was. She never recovered- but she was quickly given treatment. Much quicker than his seven-year-old daughter, who is also significantly smaller than his friend was at the time.

"What was it? Did you see what it was?" You ask in a panic, bringing over a box and flinging it open next to her on the table.

"I didn't see it! I just saw-"

"It was a mouse." Regulus says, and Coryo turns to him with wide eyes. Luckily, you're all action and you're already filling the syringe with something that should counteract whatever effects the mouse's bite could have on her while he stares at his son. He looks calm, watching the scene with a tilted head. "It was just a mouse, Daddy."

Coryo looks away, grabbing Regan's hand and squeezing it. He didn't have the chance to tell you that whatever it was, apparently this "mouse", had been dropped down the back of Regan's shirt by her brother as soon as the elevator began to lift them. He had done it on purpose. Though, he couldn't have known what was wrong with the creature.

"This is just gonna be a pinch, Gem. Try and take a deep breath for me..." You tell her as you squeeze her arm. She makes no effort to do so, but knowing that the mice were only being designed to cause pain, it didn't surprise you.

"There you go, good girl..." Coryo coos at her as you just as quickly remove the needle, quickly disposing of it as he brushes her hair back from where it clung to her face. Immediately he can see the blood returning to her face, and she's still crying but whatever it was you gave her must have helped with the pain instantly.

"She'll be okay." You sigh in relief, rejoining his side and lifting Regan up so she's sitting. "Can you hold her? I just need to find the bite."

Coryo sits on the table, lifting her into his lap as you look over her arms and ankles. "It's on her back." He tells you, repositioning her carefully so you could see. She wasn't screaming anymore, just sniffling with eyes drooping shut.

You furrow your brow, stepping to his other side to get a look at it, seeing the small swelling area at the top of her back. You grab some disinfectant to quickly clean it before you dress it properly. "What happened?" You ask. "Did she fall?" It was unclear to you how she could have been bitten in such a place without being on the ground.

Coryo doesn't say anything, shifting his gaze over to Regulus again. He's watching you closely and how you're treating the bite, eyes trained on your gloved hands.

When your husband doesn't answer you immediately you look up at him again, and then follow his eyes to your son. "What did you do?" You ask him, plastering the gauze onto your daughter's back.

"I just wanted to know what would happen, Mummy." He says simply.

"You knew what would happen, Lux. I've told you so many times not to touch anything. That it's not safe, and one of you could get hurt." You frown, packing up your first aid kit before going over to him, and kneeling down in front of the blonde boy. "I know you're interested in what I do, and I love that, but if you have questions you have to ask. Not do experiments yourself."

You grab his arms to get him to look at you again. "Hey, I'm not mad at you." You say softly. "I just need you to be careful. You're smarter than this."

He nods, wrapping his arms around your neck and hugging you. You sigh as you hug him back. "You can't hurt your sister, darling. We're a team. Do you understand?"

"I do. It was just a mouse, I didn't think it would be that bad. I'm sorry." He agrees quietly, eyes still locked on his sister as his dad cradles her gently in his arms. She's passed out against his chest, holding her as close as he possibly can.

He shakes his head at his son, trying to display his clear disappointment. It would quickly be noticed if his daughter, the President's daughter, fell ill, and he knew he would have to jump through hoops to cover up her recovery and that the very reason for it was her own brother.

Regulus Snow was his mother's son, and Coriolanus didn't believe his apology one bit.

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adventuringblind · 3 months

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The Wolf, The Bunny, and the Muppet

Carlando X Reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: Carlos makes plans, Lando doesn't follow them, and punishment ensues. She's just trying to look cute, is that really so hard?

Warnings: Mildly dark Carlos, Denial, Overstimulation, Bondage, Degradation, Praise, PinV, Marking, Heavy subspace, Lando being a pain, BDSM, unprotected sex (not condoned), crying, anal with mild prep,

Notes: So... this is a thing. I fell in love with this towards the end. Dark Carlos is my new favorite thing. Hope the requester appreciates my effort because this was A LOT. Jk, kinda, but I do hope you like it!!

Side note: feeding my praise kink fuels my motivation to write. I am lacking that currently.

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not often Carlos makes a pre-planned effort to put a scene together. He's calculated, sure, but he can also go with whatever the situation calls for.

This weekend is different. He has something he wants to try and has made his partners aware of the plan. It's not often he gets to delve into non-sexual domination. The kind that builds up into something more.

He'd been very clear about the rules after getting them off on Thursday. Hopefully enough to satisfy them (Lando) until Sunday night where he would tear them apart and put them back together.

Lando has always been the trickier of the two. She does whatever Carlos says. Lando can but chooses not to.

Needless to say, that if Lando breaks any of the rule's things will become significantly more difficult for everyone involved. Mostly for himself, but Carlos also doesn't really want to put that much effort into doing something different.

Friday is easy. Lando isn't pent up, both are dressed in outfits he'd picked out, and haven't complained about it. Not that he's expecting it. He's not going to put them in something they aren't comfortable with.

Friday practice goes well. Enough for Carlos to have the energy to tease the pair. He leaves them wanting more, for obvious reasons. There is something so satisfying about having to people who love and trust you, begging for anything you give them. Carlos loves this feeling; addicted to it like a drug.

The climate they are racing in is warm enough that Carlos can comfortably have the female wear a dress that barely brushes the tops of her thighs. It's skimpy, and he loves it. He loves the attention she's getting and how people are gawking at her. There is a primal satisfaction deep down because he knows full well she's his.

On the other hand, he had to wrestle Lando's hoodie away from him. The risk of overheating left Carlos is a predicament. The result being a grumpy Brit who wants to die of a heat stroke but complied regardless.

He manages through qualifying fine. Knowing he's going to find his girl in the garage waiting for him. Carlos gets through media with a PR approved smile. Still eyeing Lando and the fact that he is back in his sweatshirt.

Carlos edges him for hours when they get back to the hotel. His precious girl sits right at his feet, waiting patiently for direction. Eyes glazed over at simply being made to watch and wait.

Lando is sweating horrifically. Carlos left him in the sweatshirt, making him regret his earlier misdemeanors. The Brit is slobbering on the sheets, begging for some reprieve. Carlos helps him take a cold shower when he thinks Lando has learned his lesson.

He makes the podium on Sunday. He's elated, walking on cloud nine. Satisfied with his adrenaline-fueled kisses to his lovers in a back corner before he heads to do media.

It's back in the garage when Charles starts laughing at an Instagram post. It draws Carlos' attention. He looks over to see what's on the screen, only to clench his jaw in utter disbelief.

Lando, is openly flirting with Oscar. His smug look says he knows exactly what he's doing. Of everyone, it had to be Oscar. It could've been Max for all he cared. Oscar just grates on his nerves with the way he looks at Lando.

He ends up having to stay later than expected. Lando had said he was heading back to the hotel to order dinner for them since he was done. Maybe try to make amends for his earlier stunt.

Carlos takes his girl with him. He watches her shudder as he praises her for being all weekend. Not like he expected anything different. Carlos broke her a long time ago. He's still breaking Lando.

He keys the room open, expecting to see food on the table and Lando sitting patiently. What he hears instead is Lando moaning. The sheets shifted around underneath his writhing body.

Carlos just stands and watches for a minute. Lando is clearly aware he's is but making no attempt to stop. The sounds he's letting out are exaggerated and whiny. Terribly desperate for something Carlos won't give him.

"Mmm - Oscah..."

And Carlos snaps. Any semblance of self-restraint disappears. The stoic facade he was trying to keep dissolves into a fiery anger. Red hot and boiling in his stomach.

Carlos storms over to Lando and flips him without any difficulty. He pins him with one hand and undoes his belt with the other. "What a fucking brat. You can't be a slut for one second can you?"

Lando is whining underneath him. It's a pathetic noise, and Carlos soaks up every bit of it. "Desperate little thing." He wraps Lando's wrists in his bet and tightens it. The Brit lay bare and vulnerable at the mercy of Carlos' decisions.

Carlos spares a glance at the female. She has stripped her own clothes and is kneeling by the bed. He wants to drown in the sight and ravish her until neither of them can breathe. "Must you ruin my plans, Landito?"

"Just wanted to feel you."

"Yeah, you're going to feel me for weeks after I'm done with you."

Carlos motions for the girls to come to him on the bed. She crawls to him, big eyes clouded with want. "You're so perfect, amour. I'm going to reward you for being so good this weekend. Lando will watch and take notes."

Lando whines as Carlos rolls him onto his back. Rough and calloused fingers grip at Lando's hips. They tease the sensitive areas where Lando needs him most. Cock achingly hard and dripping.

"Stay put and I might let you cum tonight."

Carlos moves closer to the angelic female, looking at him like he is the only thing in the world. He strips off his own clothes and pulls her body closer to his. The skin on skin alone has her eyes rolling back.

He pushes her head lower. Her mouth opens to receive his cock with no hesitation. She wraps her lips around him with such skill that Carlos can only get lost in it. Hand buried in her hair if only to worship her. There is no need to guide or hold as he bucks his hips up and hits the back of her throat.

It's impossible for him not to take advantage of her mouth. It is harder to stay away from the edge of ecstasy. But he manages, he pulls her off him and slams his lips onto hers.

His fingers slips into her cunt with ease. Wet from the weekend of waiting. The anticipation of feeling him finally comes to fruition.

"Sir, please - I need you." The brg falls from her lips like it's her first language. All she knows is him; drowning in the way his fingers rub against her g-spot. "Need to be filled by you."

Carlos can't deny the girl anything. He burries himself in her. Eye's burning holes into Lando's as he snaps his hips at a relentless pace. "How does it feel knowing this could've been you?"

Lando whines and pouts, hips bucking towards the spainard to find the friction he needs. Carlos grants him nothing but a handprint on his ass. Tears spring into his eyes at the sting. It grants Carlos a sick kind of satisfaction.

His girl pants his name. Her tongue sticks out of her mouth in search of him. The only satisfaction she gains is from being good for Carlos.

He feels her tighten around him, alerting him that she's on the edge. "Wait for me, I'm almost there." He whispers against her skin. She scratches at his back as he picks up the pace. Her own way of claiming him, it sends Carlos' head spinning.

She's begging for it but waiting so patiently. The control he has over her is intoxicating. He could keep her like this forever, but she's been good and deserves a reward.

"Cum for me, you've been so good princessa." She tightens around him, walls refusing to let up. Her body jolts in the pleasurable waves of dopamine and serotonin.

Carlos finishes with a few sloppy thrusts, painting the inside of her white. The only thing left is their heavy breathes as they bask in the high.

Carlos praises her as he pulls out. She whines at the loss of him, so he places a hand on her hip to ensure she knows he's present while in a vulnerable headspace. It's endearing how she needs him.

"See that Lando? Do you think you can be good? Can you listen to my words like the good boy I know you are?"

Lando is sobbing. Putty in the hands of Carlos. Broken and beautiful. Just the way he should be.

Carlos takes pity on him. Places Lando in-between the girls' legs. He waits, unmoving inside of his perfect girl.

He drips lube all over his fingers and takes care in opening up the Brit, but leaves him right enough to ensure a bit if a sting still.

Lando is keening. He's trying so hard not to move; to be good for Carlos.

Carlos takes his time sinking into the Brit. Each movement sends him further into the warmth of his Carlos' perfect girl. Lando is sobbing now, begging for anything Carlos is willing to give.

Carlos finally gives in. He show the two of them to mercy. Teeth clamping onto Lando's neck to mark him and fingers pinching the girls nipples causing her to shreik.

Perfect for him.

His.

All his.

Carlos fucks them into overstimulation. He's relentless and refuses to let the moment go to waste. Not when they are sobbing in pure ecstacy.

They chant his name, and he feeds off it. He could live in this place. Only hearing them worship him for the rest of his life.

Finally, he slows. He pulls out gently and whispers words of encouragement and praise. He kisses up and down their bodies and worships them because they are completely his.

He cleans them up with gentle hands, let's them know how much he loves and adores them.

Carlos cuddles them to sleep. The feeling of their hearts beating on either side of him only sends him further into the chasm of adoration for the two.

Hearts that are beating with his in tadem.

Hearts that beat for him.

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starfinss · 8 months

Note

Thanks for answering my ask!😊 i do have request/suggestion involving Cyno haha, what about a 🍋 scenario where Cyno, Al Haitham and a character of your choice get accidentally hard from having their S/O innocently sit on their lap? They try to hide it but they fail.. 🙈 if that would be alright with you!

This has been in my inbox for literal months, I am SO sorry.

I’ve been planning a trip abroad, plus I’ve had no ideas for this prompt until like an hour ago when I was playing Genshin and thinking of story ideas. Anyway, sure, I’ll write that. The character of my choice will be Lyney, because I’m working on his build right now and I’ve been sort of drafting a fic for him while I’m writing the Jing Yuan fic.

As always, let me know if any of you want full fics from this.

—𝘚𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘓𝘢𝘱𝘴, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘜𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴.

— 𝘈𝘭𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘮

— Unless you’re at home together, I doubt Alhaitham would let you sit on his lap for this very reason.

— Alhaitham is a man who lives my the rules of logic, and while I won’t say he hasn’t fucked you on his desk at work, he’d call those ‘momentary lapses in judgement.’

— Not that he didn’t enjoy them, though.

— He’s the type who likes to do things where the chances of being caught are low. He likes to draw things out, doing everything he can to make you feel good. And so, he prefers to engage in activity like this in the comfort of your bedroom.

— So, in instances like this, if you were to convince him to let you sit in his lap while you waited for him to finish up his work after everyone was home for the night, he might give in, just a little bit.

— Really, you just wanted to be close to him, maybe close your eyes for a while. He loves closeness as much as the next person, being near to the one you love is always nice.

— The risk of being seen in such a compromising position is low, which is a plus, and he gets to feel your warmth against his body as he finishes what he has to do for the day.

— But then you shift forward, nuzzling closer, and your body rubs against his just right, and oh Archons, he doesn’t have time for this.

— The way your body settles so perfectly over him makes his mind scatter to anything and everything besides work. The friction as you rearrange yourself against him is enough to make him feel like he’s going crazy.

— He hides it well, though. Alhaitham is good at keeping a blank face.

— As casually as he can, he shifts you back so you’re away from his growing erection, because he has to finish this paperwork before he leaves, and you’re so maddeningly distracting.

— But that doesn’t go unnoticed. You look up at him quizzically, and when you’re met with a blank stare, you shift back to where you were most comfortable, just to see his reaction.

— He sets his jaw, breath catching as he stiffens, unable to hide the way his body reacts to yours as you realize why he moved you away.

“Did I make you hard?” You whisper, a little surprised, “I didn’t even do anything.”

A quiet scoff as he looks at you fully, his self-restraint beginning to fray. Damn you for always having this effect on him.

“It’s kind of hard not to with you practically grinding against me.”

A sly smile overtakes your face, the innocent desire to hold him replaced with something much more lascivious.

“Would you like some help with that, Mister Acting Grand Sage?”

— Lips collide, and you end up bent over the desk as he holds you in place by your hips, the office filled with the sound of skin on skin and his low, pleasured groans as he fucks you, deep and hard, just the way he knows you like it.

— Needless to say, that paperwork didn’t end up getting done that night.

— 𝘊𝘺𝘯𝘰

— Like Alhaitham, I don’t think Cyno would really allow such a thing unless the two of you were alone in your own home.

— He doesn’t like breaking rules or doing things that could be seen as unbecoming, especially not in public.

— It’s because of the fact that he most likely wouldn’t engage in that sort of thing in public that I also doubt he’d try and hide it.

— In his eyes, things tend to be rather black and white, and he separates your sex life together from everyday life. He associates you sitting in his lap with other more improper thoughts that he shouldn’t be distracted by when he’s working or out of the house.

— It doesn’t change just how much he loves you, and even in daily life he expresses that in other ways.

— This is getting long winded and stupid but I want this to be interesting and not just “he’s reading a book and you’re in his lap,” which I could very easily do.

— I sure am a writer. Also this idea is stupid, but it’s also fun. I will probably write a full fic for it.

— But, anyway, the point I was making is, if you were to accidentally end up in his lap, then because of that association between you being that close and sexual activity, he might end up getting hard rather easily.

— While tracking a fugitive scholar together, the two of you end up being forced to fight when a group of Eremites come through, and the ensuing scuffle catches the attention of a herd of Sumpter Beasts.

— You and Cyno are confined into a small hiding space, and because of the limited amount of room, you’re forced to straddle him.

— You, of course, are wriggling around, trying to get comfortable in the awkward position, and it’s when you finally settle down onto his lap and he catches you by the waist to keep you from fully resting against him that you realize what has happened.

— He’s not meeting your eyes, simply looking out through the gaps in the rocks to watch the herd of beasts go by, but you can see his jaw tighten when you shift forward and out of his grip. When you move your hips down, a hand shoots out to still you with a grip that is nearly bruising.

“Stay still.”

— You’re a little surprised, he’s usually able to keep that sort of thing under control fairly well, but in retrospect, you can’t really blame him with all the moving around you were doing.

“Sorry,” you croak, suddenly mortified, “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” he says, “my body simply responded to the stimulation. It is always a possibility in such close quarters. Just stay still, please.”

— The rocks are digging into your knees, and despite his warning, you still try and shift for some relief, as slowly as you can, but he’s getting harder, and you can feel his hands scrambling for a grip on your hips and waist, and when he looks at you, the glint in his eyes is equal parts pleading and haggard.

— Slowly, teasingly, you roll your hips, and his head falls back against the wall of rocks behind it, eyes fluttering closed as you grind against him, the way he’s holding you so flush against him making the friction ever better.

“We shouldn’t,” he says, though his own protest sounds unconvincing as his voice drops several octaves lower, rough with lust, and especially so when his hips rise to press you even closer.

“Then why aren’t you stopping me?” You ask, wanting so badly to kiss him, and instead of answering you, he catches the back of your head, crushing your mouth against his.

— The buttons of your shirt are undone, his mouth is on your breasts as you fumble for the front of his shorts, struggling to get your own off, and he simply moves your panties aside after you’ve wrestled out of your clothing before yanking you down, stuffing you full of his thick cock.

— Your cries of pleasure are lost among the hoof beats of the Sumpter Beasts on the path above, and you share heated breath as you ride him, his hand on your waist to guide you along the length of his cock.

— His head dips down to watch where he disappears inside of you, and you feel his grip tighten on your body, feel him twitch inside of you, making you whimper.

— He’s sure to make you cum first, his thumb on your clit, muttering sweet filth into your skin as you come undone above him.

— You end up in that ravine longer than you excepted, if you couldn’t tell.

— 𝘓𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘺

— Unlike the two others, I don’t think Lyney would be as private.

— A conversation with my good friend Paprika made me realize that Lyney is probably the type of guy who goes for what he wants, and if he was interested in someone, he’d likely just show that interest without beating around the bush.

— So I wouldn’t be surprised if he invited his s/o to sit on his lap, just casually, no matter where they were.

— It’s not even sexual, really, he just likes being close to the ones he loves, and you’re no exception. He loves holding you.

— He’s very romantic, too, I’d say. He knows just what to say to get you all weak in the knees. He loves you so much. The poor guy doesn’t have many people in his life who have shown him the love that you have, and he absolutely cherishes you.

— He’d even buy out all the seats in one of the upper boxes of the Opera Epiclese, just to have you all to himself, able to hold you close and tell you just how much he adores you in the dark of the grand auditorium.

— But he’s only human, and if you were to move just right while sitting in his lap, he’s going to have a reaction.

A soft chuckle tickled your ear in the silence, and you felt Lyney’s hands on your waist, gently holding you in place.

“Stay still, please, darling.”

— He wouldn’t really try and hide it, it’s kind of hard to when you’re right there.

— He’d bite back a gasp as you shift again, almost teasing him, shooting you a warning look.

“Can I help with that?”

A soft laugh, slightly strained. “And how would you do that?”

You pressed a kiss to the curve of his jaw. “Can I show you?”

He kisses your forehead. “As long as it’s quiet. We wouldn’t want to disturb the other patrons, would we?”

— You slip down from his lap and to the floor, where you kneel, between his knees. He’s seated in the farthest chair in the box, well hidden from sight if anyone were to look his way. You wouldn’t even be visible from that vantage point.

— He realizes what you’re doing and shifts his legs farther apart to accommodate you, and when you palm him through his slacks, you get the pleasure of watching the way his jaw tightens, breath drawn in sharply through his nose.

— You make short work of his belt and zipper, and he shifts his hips to let you tug his underwear down just enough to free his dick.

— He curses quietly when you wrap your hand around him, and when you begin to slowly stroke, his head tips back against the chair.

— When your mouth presses against his tip, you feel one gloved palm against the back of your head, urging you forward, lacing into your hair when you take him into your mouth.

— You feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth as you begin to bob your head, slow and steady, almost teasing, and you can hear him gasp softly above you, see him clamp one hand over his mouth as you watch him through your lashes.

— His grip tightens on your hair, groans muffled by the hand over his mouth, and you squeeze your thighs together, letting yourself moan around him, low and soft, and that’s enough to make his hips buck against your mouth. You know you’ll pay for that when you got home.

— You speed up, and his hand fists into your hair, desperate for any kind of purchase at all, and you hardly mind, especially when it leads to him shifting forward in his seat, forcing you to take more of him, gently guiding you back, only to fill your mouth once more.

— You loosen your throat and let him take control, using your mouth as he pleases, simply content with watching the way his face twists in pleasure, teeth digging into his knuckles as he tries desperately to stay quiet, and you can tell he’s close from the way he’s leaking into your mouth, his thighs shaking, grip growing borderline painful.

— He cums hard, gushing down your throat, and it’s a wonder he stays quiet during his climax, the effort of it all clearly taking a toll on him as you watch involuntary frustrated tears bead at the corner of his eyes and catch in his pale lashes.

— You pull off as he softens, licking your lips and making a show of swallowing, something he watches with heavy-lidded, hungry eyes.

— Cheekily, you settle back into the seat with him after he tucks himself away again, careful to avoid bumping against him.

— Yeah, you didn’t end up getting much sleep after you got home that night.

The fact that this took as long as it did haunts me and I am so sorry.

ALSO I GET TO SEE PAPRIKA IN PERSON THIS FALL YAYAYAYAYAYAY!!!! I’m so excited, and I will probably cry.

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vaguely-yandere · 2 years

Text

i feel like there aren't enough sensitive yanderes.

the ones who observe you from more of a distance, not minding it. they prefer it this way, actually. they have issues... controlling themselves around you. it's hard to, when you're just so perfect. they'll make they're move when they can stop the intense trembling and sweating and panting that comes from getting too close. for now, they'll have to stick with exposure therapy.

exposure therapy started off, well, small. as it should. at first, it was taking a drink out of a public trashcan when you were done with it (you're so perfect, you don't even litter when you think no one is there. im there, of course, but you don't know that. not yet.) and just holding it. the cup was still warm from your heat... and probably the fact it was a warm drink but it was probably your heat. your heat. that alone was enough to make their knees shake. they just couldn't help it!

next was going into a store and trying on the exact clothes you had tried on only moments before. they couldn't actually get the clothes on but they could smell just a faint whiff of you. they spent the next hour in the dressing room, just smelling the clothes until they could memorize your scent. pin point what deodorant you wore that day. (are you out of shampoo? i can't smell it around the neckline. but that does give me an idea for my next therapy session..) they bought the clothes. they didn't really have any use for them other the fact they vaguely smelled like you and, well, they assumed you wore them at some point so that made them valuable. they sit folded next to your discarded drink, which was covered in kiss marks and dried saliva.

next exposure session was a lot easier than the others at first but the end was.. overwhelming. they bought your exact brand of shampoo and conditioner, deodorant, perfume/cologne if you owned any, everything that carried a scent. makeup products, laundry detergent, air fresheners, candles, everything and anything to make their house smell like yours. at first, it was euphoric to inhale and smell what they assumed your home must smell like... but your home wouldn't smell like a bath and body works candle. or air freshener. or your laundry detergent. it would smell like human. sweat, dust, dirt, skin cells, it would smell like you, why doesn't it smell like you, they bought all of this stuff and it still doesn't smell like you! how do they replicate the smell of you without you? (i can't- i can't get it right, it's not right, nothing smells right, it doesn't smell like me or like you, why doesn't it smell like you, i tried so hard, i was sure i got everything right and it would smell exactly like your home but it doesn't, i know this isn't what your home smells like, i can't bring you home to something that smells so.. WRONG!) they ended up crying into the week old clothes they bought, desperately trying to smell you and failing, which gave them the motivation for their next "session".

they needed some place to get close to you without drawing attention with their excessive sweating, panting and desperate whines from overwhelming feeling of pure love but they also needed to be close enough to smell you. now, what better way to accomplish those things than to get something of yours? their plan was perfect. simple. just open your window to get a whiff and be on their way! (just a whiff, i promise) but.. you wouldn't be home for a while.. they were right there, they could just pop in really quickly, maybe take some pictures? nothing big! just some pictures and a sniff! (ill be so fast, i won't even be there long enough to leave footprints!) but. the smell. the warmth left behind. the pure feeling of you surrounding them, it was too addictive and they felt like they were overdosing. shaking, panting, whimpering, legs pressed tightly together as they gently touched your bed (still so warm.. you did leave just recently. did you know how cold i was feeling? is this a sign..? you did this for me, right?), feeling the fabric under their fingertips, completely entranced by the way it moved and folded under the slight pressure. it felt like you were holding their hand, luring them into bed for just a quick snuggle, just one quick snuggle and then you'll both leave, right? they wiped their mouth, taking a deep breath to steady themselves. it didn't work but the black dots that had been playfully floating around the edge of their vision faded. they raised their phone and started taking pictures. unsteady, shakey, slightly blurry pictures but they didn't need to be exact, they just needed to be able to see your room layout so they could memorize your style, what things brought you comfort, how you organized things so that when you eventually moved in, it would be less stressful and they're sure you won't miss this old shirt under your bed or these strands of hair or this pair of underwear at the bottom of your laundry basket or this pencil or this hair tie or this bit of dust or this small decoration. (you didn't even notice i licked your toothbrush or kissed your pillow.. in fact, you seemed to sleep even better tonight.. do my indirect kisses relax you, my love? ill be sure to give you more.)

#yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere #vague yandere #sensitive yandere

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alornights · 1 year

Text

⟢ sleepovers and treatments

➜ in which ! kyle enters the world of lush and beauty.

💌 ﹫kyle broflovski.

✩ 🎸 warnings﹗none.

🍓 ⟡ notes — i need to get my lush life together tbh

kyle never was that interested in skincare or beauty if we're being real here, seriously guys, be honest.

of course he takes care of his hair but, very minimal.

so when he starts dating you and is invited for a sleepover at yours, he's beyond shocked at what he witnessed in your bathroom.

"Why do you have so much stuff." He murmured in disbelief, jaw dropped at the sight of your bathroom.

You laughed pulling out two face masks. "It makes me feel good, I feel accomplished and it makes me feel pretty."

He rolled his eyes, "I don't think you need all that though."

"Probably," You joked pushing him so he was sitting on the toilet, walking between his legs to start putting on his face mask, "But it's fun, it's cool, and it's trendy. And you feel like you aged down 50 years so I say that's a win."

"Oh really?" He questioned, his arms dragging you closer to him by your waist, giving you a kiss on your collarbone. "We'll see about that."

and see he did.

usually he would just, not do this. like he would just refuse.

but something about the way you just lit up whenever he let you do something had his heart melting.

so he let you put all kinds of products on his face, and tbh, took note of what might work, for research purposes ofc.

you even managed to get him to realize how bad his hair is and how he needs to bring it to its glory. lord knows how much he needed your advice on that one.

one of the main reasons he let you do this though, was because of how close you would get to him.

he loves you. which means he loves being around.

so the fact that you're so up and close to him most of the time sends butterflies to his stomach and almost gets him to giggle.

if you're standing while he sits, he'll let his hands rest at your hips to circle them or draw/write things into your skin.

extra points; he kisses any skin he sees to make you flustered.

extra extra points; you sitting in his lap so whenever he wants hell just start kissing your neck, whispering sweet nothings.

this whole ordeal lasts fucking hours. let's say you start at like 7, this shit will take up until 11 or 12.

why? either you two get distracted talking about gossip or kyle is being dramatic and refuses to do something.

"Do I have to?" He questioned with a raised eyebrow, watching you take out your nail equipment.

"Yeah, your nails are horrendous to look at. You have some hot hands, they can be even hotter with good nails." You explained with a smirk, "And it's not like I'm going to color them unless you want me to."

"... What colors do you have?"

ended up not doing any color nail polish sadly, one day you'll get him though. don't worry, time is unlimited.

"All this... for a bath." He uttered turning to you in shock seeing what you had laid out for him.

He tilted his head as he watched the bath continue to steam up. Looking to the end of the bath he realized there was a stool with a few things on it.

For one, his favorite drink was in a wine bottle. Ice and mini umbrella included. Then there was a radio with old classic hits playing, some grapes, a lit vanilla candle, and a bunch of different varieties of bath bombs.

All this, for a bath.

You simply smiled, "Welcome to the lavish life."

he will be doing this at home any chance he gets.

or he'll just go over to your place. either which works.

you tried for funsies to try and do his makeup and he simply refused knowing it would somehow get passed around.

but, he wanted to do your hair to see if he was any good (totally not bc he wanted to do it for you every day in case you didn't want to). and how could you deny your boyfriend?

you started off with braids and he was surprisingly good at it for his first time. a few mistakes but overall pretty good.

this is just a silly lil thing but i imagine the two of you listening to barbie, specifically can you keep a secret while doing your routine.

NO ACTUALLY I LIED, IT WOULD BE FABULOUS, SHARPAY EVANS. JUST IMAGINE DANCING TO THAT SONG IN FRONT OF MIRROR OH LORD. KYLE GOING ALL SASSY-

by the end of the night, he feels like a new man.

he's never, and in his words, "felt so clean"

"So...." Kyle murmured climbing onto the bed to lay his head on your chest.

You smiled immediately letting your hands play with his curls, "Hmm?"

".... When are we doing this again?"

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader

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sunshinescribes · 8 months

Text

Tomorrow

Pairing: Donquixote “Corazón” Rosinante x Fem!Reader (can be read as gender neutral!)

Rating: NONE

Summary: Rosinante is no fool, no matter what his brother or the family might think. He knows pain when he sees it, and he hates that he’s the cause of yours.

Warnings: ANGST, established relationship, fluff, comfort (I just wanted to write something bittersweet y’all), Pre-Rosinante and Law

You know you don’t have much time.

It slips by far too fast, precious hours reduced to what feels like mere minutes when Rosinante is with you.

You try to cherish them, to swallow the plea that wants to crawl up your throat in the silent hours when you’re wrapped in his arms. You try to find solace in the fact that he’s safe. For another hour, he’s safe from his brother—from the world that despises his celestial blood.

Here with you, he can let down his shield and smile as if tomorrow might not be his last. It’s a small comfort, but it’s enough to stop you from being selfish.

You want him to stay.

You always want him to stay.

It’s torture—months spent without him. Your world stands still, grows so quiet that all you hear is the beat of your heart ringing in your ears, ticking away like a timebomb. You wait for the explosion, for the day that Rosinante doesn’t come back, and you finally shatter.

But today isn’t that day, so you cling to him a little tighter. Speak to him a little softer.

You know that kindness is not something Rosinante finds in his brother nor the company that he keeps. He tends to his bleeding heart well and masks himself in silence so as not to draw their attention to his true motives. It’s a dangerous game, one you’re terrified he'll lose.

Rosinante had told you what Doflamingo did to their father—an ill-fated, tender-hearted man whom his oldest son could not forgive. The image of Rosinante at the end of his brother’s gun has haunted you ever since.

"You’re shaking."

Amber eyes stare down at you, concern clear in them as they take you in.

You hadn’t noticed your hands trembling against him or the subtle shake of your chest. You don’t even notice the tears turning your vision blurry until they fall.

"I’m fine," you lie, but it does nothing to assuage his worry. He cradles your jaw in his hand, tilting your head upward as he uses his other hand to wipe away your tears—he knows.

Rosinante is no fool, no matter what his brother or the family might think. He knows pain when he sees it, and he hates that he’s the cause of yours. Rosinante would stop coming back if he knew which was less cruel—letting you go or staying with you for as long as he’s able, even if he can’t promise you tomorrow, or the next day, or the next.

He can put on a good act, though, for your sake.

"Don’t worry about me sweetheart," Rosinante grins, sitting up in bed. His blonde curls are disheveled, making him look gentle and boyish and so different from the man he calls brother. "Those fools don’t suspect anything. It won’t be long now before we catch them."

You try to smile. You want to believe him. You know he’s doing everything right—everything he possibly can. It’s Doflamingo who worries you the most. He won’t spare his baby brother if he finds out, and you know Rosinante won’t fight him.

"My act has them completely foole—" Rosinante's voice trails off as he tips over the edge of the bed, falling to the ground with a soft thud.

You laugh lightly despite yourself, crawling over to the edge to glance down at him. Rosinante stares up at you with his lips caught in a soft grin.

"See? I fooled you too."

You snort and roll your eyes as he shifts to his knees. Even while on the floor, his height is imposing, forcing you to sit up just so he doesn’t dwarf you.

"There’s that smile," he sighs, leaning close enough that you feel his breath fan over your lips. "Still the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen…"

Your heart flutters as his lips find yours. His kiss is tender, a soft declaration of love as he holds you close. Rosinante never rushes. Never takes more than he needs.

Your nature is different.

You thread your fingers through his golden tresses, pulling him closer. You tilt your head, kissing him with a kind of desperation that leaves you both breathless when you pull away.

"I…don’t want to lose you, Rosi."

You don’t look at Rosinante as the words pass your lips, barely above a whisper.

You hear the wind blowing outside your window and the crickets chirping to the pale moon. You are both so still, frozen in a moment that feels like eternity.

Rosinante stirs suddenly. He reaches for your trembling hands, bringing them close to his lips. Your eyes finally lift to his as he brushes his lips across your knuckles tenderly, trying to soothe the ache in your soul.

"Okay," he says. Then again, and again, and again.

Each kiss is an oath, a declaration that he has every intention of returning to you.

"Just a little while more," he promises.

You nod. You let the promise settle in your heart, allowing yourself to be hopeful.

Rosinante shuffles back into bed with little grace, drawing you close once more. You lean into his warmth and listen to the soft patter of his tender heart. You try to fight sleep—try to hold on to him for as long as you can. You know when you wake up in the morning, he will be gone, back to doing the bidding of his older brother.

Rosinante whispers something you can’t quite make out as fatigue finally finds you, and you sink further and further way.

At least you dream a pleasant, calm dream of a tomorrow where he stays.

#sunny.fic #donquixote rosinante x reader #corazon x reader #corazon x you #rosinante x reader #x reader

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cheesecakethots · 7 months

Note

I saw you wanted more chrollo thots and I’m hyper fixated on him rn so I’ll give you a few and if you wanted to write one or a few I’d rly appreciate it bc your writing is AMAZING

Chrollo with a darling who:

-loves romantic books/films

-loves to bake

- tried and fails to give him the silent treatment bc he bugs them so much

- is really sarcastic

Chrollo situations:

-buys them lots of clothes and makes them model them

-makes them a ‘classic candlelit dinner’

-Tried to replicate the men in the romance films darling watches

-They play 21 questions

Sorry if this was a lot but I rly love your writing and even if you don’t do any of these just know that I love your blog ♥️

RGHDUDHDH THANK YOUUU!!! <3 <3 <3

with a darling who bakes i have this idea of like. you hate him because he’s so PERFECT at everything. it’s fucking infuriating. oh yeah and he kidnapped you. that sucks too.

but you swear every time you sit down and do something, whether it be a puzzle or even just understanding the ending of a book he’s brought you, he’ll be right there just to go “well, you see…”

he’s a mansplainer lets be real.

but ask him to get you some ingredients so you can bake, and suddenly when you start on it he’s following you around like a lost puppy. he finds enjoyment in asking a million and one questions on every little thing you do, so it takes away from your own enjoyment at the fact that you know how to do something that he doesn’t.

also he most definitely tries to replicate the men in romance films you watch. might even get a little jealous of them at times. you had to refrain from bursting out laughing or cringing when he tried copying some lines from howl in howl’s moving castle, after you’d watched it together.

but ok. it’s cringe. but. i can imagine him saying stuff like that to irk you, or just to be a bit of a little shit.

you’d managed to escape the hotel you were both currently staying at. he’d left you alone for a couple hours, probably off to kill someone or steal something, most likely both. you’d found yourself smashing off the door handle with a chair leg, and before you knew it you were running down the hallways and out of the main lobby, to the dismay of the workers.

you didn’t really have a plan, god you didn’t know where to go or who to call, but you figured that your friends, family and the nearest police station would be the first places he would check.

you now find yourself in a little alley, back against the wall and mind racing. you got out, but now what? is there truly anywhere where he won’t find you? your panic quickly settles. you’ll find somewhere. you’ll never stop until you do.

after calming yourself down enough, you straighten up, turning towards the end of the alley and back into the street.

“that was fast.”

you freeze. footsteps from behind you draw near until he’s right next to you.

“you didn’t get very far, though. i can’t help but say i’m a little disappointed, [name].”

“go away,” you mutter, your knees shaking.

you hear an amused huff to the side of you. a hand reaches out, grabbing onto your chin and turning your face in his direction. you squeeze your eyes shut. you can feel his minty breath against your face.

“look at me.”

you really don’t want to, but the danger creeping into his tone has your eyelids slowly opening.

he smiles at you, and it causes nausea to form in your stomach.

“that’s my girl.”

from the twinkle in his otherwise dead grey eyes, you know that you’re in for a very long night.

#very nice thots thank you!!#tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere #yanderecore #yandere chrollo #yandere hxh #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere hxh x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere chrollo x reader #tw kidnap mention #tw kidnapping

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wifey-ohara · 8 months

Note

Yooo

Could I request a Hobie x gn reader where they're roommates and both can't sleep and just kinda catch eachother snooping in the kitchen at 3 am and then decide to cuddle until they fall asleep?

(Have a nice day/night!)

Ok this is funny asf bc i can imagine one of them elbow deep in some bag looking at the other like a deer in headlights while the other is "👁👄👁"💀😭

And they were (are) roommates

Hobie brown&gn!Reader

notes: fluff, could be read as platonic or going-to-be-romantic, hobie is the best raccoon out there, cuddles! We love that, author forgot how to write snackes,does he plural end in "es" or just "s"? Just ignore it, not proofread, written on the spot

You couldn't sleep. It was a simple fact, yet so fucking annoying

Dropping your gaze from the ceiling you looked at the clock beside you

2:17am

With a goan you turned around on your side, taking your cover with you and tried getting comfortable in the bed

And kept doing that for the next hour

Finally you gave up sitting up on your bed and glaring at nothing in particular

"if i ain't getting no sleep at least i can eat" you whispered, kicking off the cover with your legs as if it assaulted you

Standing up, you made your way to the kitchen quietly, you didnt want to wake hobie up, at least one of would get some sle-

Too much for that...

You stared as you tried to hold in your laughter, doing your best at a poker face attempt as the sound of something moving inside a bag stopped as your roommate , hobie, snapped his head towards you and stared at you, as if he was a raccoon you caught eating your food

Giggles started to escape your throat as the thought crossed your mind, pressing your lips together to contain your wide smile

"ay, whacha laughin'bout!?" he barked out, a frown on his face yet a smile making it way through

You couldn't hold ot any further, you threw your head back, eyes squeezed shut and howling with laughter, shoulders shaking and arm holding you up right by grasping a wall nearby

You didn't see him rolling his eyes at you and continuing to ravage through the bag he has in hand

With a more steady breath you calmed down, at least enough to talk and understand talking, giggles still bubbling up in you chest

"you couldn't sleep too huh" hobie asked, glancing at you going to the fridge

"yup" you answered "stuffing my face with food was next best option"

"fair" he agreed, noticing how you grabbed a handful of snacks, an idea popped up

"how bout we go and put on a movie, grab more snacks and make this into a movie night? -day? Eh whatever" he thought

".. Yeah that sounds good, you go, put something on and I'll grab the snacks " you answered, and he groaned

"ughh, you know i don't know how that crap works" he grumbled, going to do it anyway

You chuckled, grabbing more snacks and following him, plotting yourself on the couch and watching him trying to work out a streaming service, you're still confused on how someone (as cool as him) can't do something as simple, especially since he was your age

After a couple of tries he succeed and throws himself beside you, leaning to get the blanket on the other end of the sofa

"get closer, the blanket's too small" he reminded, you always said to replace it but you never did

Scotting closer you leaned on him and he dropped the blanket on both of you and laid down, focus drawed over to the screen in front of you

An hour in you noticed the he stopped reaching out for the m&ms on the coffee table and that his breathing slowed

Glancing up you saw he was fast asleep, features relaxed and peaceful

You decided to join him so you cozyed up to him and closed your eyes, letting his breathing, and steady heartbeats drive you to a peaceful slumper too

#spider man: across the spider verse #hobie brown x reader #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie x reader platonic #hobie brown

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saksukei · 10 months

Text

ushijima love letters au

masterlist | suna love letters au

you laughed as you read the crinkled letter with messy writing, in your hands,, how long had it been? eight or nine years? time had gone by so quickly,,,

you distinctly remember the first time you ever received ushijima’s cute little notes.

you had come back from the chemistry lab,, and found a piece of paper on your desk saying “i hope you had breakfast.”

assuming that it was a silly prank, you just tossed the little note alongside some papers in the depths of your school bag,,,

till you received another one the next day,, saying “morning runs are healthy. so maybe go on one sometime?”

and you were like (─.─||) is this person trying to say that I've put on weight??!!! DO THEY KNOW IM HUMAN AND ITS NORMAL TO PUT ON WEIGHT

you threw the note in your bag again

and then, the same happened the next day

except this note said,,, “sorry about the last chit. my friend told me I sounded rude. how was your day?”

you were like ??? can this person not make their mind up??? hello??

and so you kept on receiving them,, they ranged from “hope you did your math homework” to “carry a spare water bottle” to “stay safe when going back home”

and you got so used to receiving these notes that your day sort of felt incomplete without them,,, and you thought that you wanted to find the culprit behind them

and so,, you hid behind your class door,, to check who would come in to leave the little notes on your desk,,,

someone did come into class and it was not the person you expected. it was tendou. you figured you should confront him, it was now or never.

“so you're the one that's been sending me chits?!” you ask, and tendou jumps, not expecting you to be there.

“uhh–” he trails off, scratching the back of his head.

“sorry, I don't mean to put you in an awkward spot but I wanted to thank you for–”

“it’s not me, I'm only the messenger,” tendou interrupts. “he’s going to kill me if I tell you this–but it's ushijima,” tendou explains. “he likes you but he doesn't know how to say it so I suggested this way would be more better.”

and you were like (╯°□°）╯︵ ┻━┻

“yOU MEAN USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI THE VOLLEYBALL TEAM CAPTAIN AND ACE LIKES ME????”

“sheesh no need to yell,” tendou retorted,,

“sorry, force of habit,” you smile sheepishly. “is there any chance you could get me to talk to ushijima?”

“as long as you don't reject him too harshly–then yes.”

tendou leads you to the captain who is practicing his spikes in the gym.

ushijima stares blankly when he sees you entering, despite his heart going fifty miles per hour. why were you here? you never visited the gymnasium.

he had in fact first seen you in his math class when you sat near the window and he was sitting behind you, watching you draw doodles on your textbook. eventually, it became a routine, where he'd chuckle at your little drawings of your math teacher.

he started looking for you during lunch hour, just having your presence around was enough for him. he never found it within himself to have the courage to talk to you. you were so nice, so kind and so out of his league.

it wasn't until tendou suggested this little idea that ushijima thought he might finally get to interact with you.

“hi, ushijima can I talk to you?” you ask, shyly and tendou nudges ushijima towards you, who manages to stutter out “yes you may,” following you outside.

“i saw tendou leaving the small chit on my desk,” you confess, and while ushijima has never been hit by a volleyball on the face, he sure feels like it would hurt less.

“i–i don't mean to embarrass you or anything!” you clear out, witnessing his spiral. “i wanted to say thank you, the notes were really sweet. And I was actually wondering if you'd like to go out on a date.”

youve never seen such a stoic man get red so fast. “i’d like that a lot yes.”

and while it's been years since school ended and you two have been together forever, he still leaves you the cutest notes.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu!!#ushijima scenarios #ushijima wakatoshi imagines #ushijima x reader #ushijima headcanons #ushijima hcs #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #ushijima x y/n

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fleet-of-fiction · 5 months

Text

Jake Kiszka // Female Narrator

Part Two

After a blinding light eradicates mankind, you're left in a desolate and empty world. A year of solitude eliminates all belief that anyone else was left behind. Until a chance encounter on the side of the road. Jake is injured and fighting for his life, but his presence brings a renewed sense of hope. Touch starved and lonely, you need him. And undoubtedly, he needs you too.

"It would be the last man on earth that would end up being mine..."

Explicit sexual content Sex (penetrative & oral) /Foreplay /Blood / Injury / Hunting. / Intense emotions / Death.

Day 396 ~ Amelia

His preferred it when I called him Jake. Whenever I had cause to use his name. He began to move around on his own on the fourth day, stumbling into my side tables and clutching his ribcage with each tumultuous step. Like a fawn on trembling newborn legs.

It was somewhat endearing. The way he smiled through the pain and sat with me at the kitchen table eating vegetable soup and crackers in the silence within which we had both become accustomed to. An impenetrable veil between us that didn't seem to want to come down.

We shadowed one another. His eyes averting to the ground whenever I stole a glance. My concern for his healing injuries something I didn't want him to confuse with mounting interest. Even though I had begun to actively consider him, despite my inward protests that he would one day want to continue his search for others.

He was a gentle enigma. My fear that he might gain enough strength to hurt me dissipated with each passing hour. When he didn't sleep he would sit by the fire with a book, his gaze easing up from the pages whenever I had reason to pass. Sometimes he would smile, other times he would just follow me with his eyes before reverting back to his story.

I didn't want to come to rely on his presence. I had made my choice to stay at the cabin and try to survive. I had driven across the country and seen nothing but desolate emptiness. The hopes of my family sitting on the cabin porch waiting for me dwindling with every mile I'd reached.

I didn't want him to become necessary to me. Even though I suspected that I had become somewhat necessary to him, if only whilst he was still recovering. I prepared myself for the day he would stand up and announce that he was leaving. That day drawing unflinchingly closer by the second.

"Amelia." He said, the sound of my name on an unfamiliar voice sending an unrequited chill down my spine.

There was nothing nefarious in his tone. He sat, quite pleasantly, on the chair which he had commandeered for reading and placed his book on the coffee table by the fire.

"Are you in pain?" I replied, shooting up from my place at the kitchen table where I'd been peeling carrots. "Can I get you something?"

The easing of a joyous smirk curled within the corners of his mouth. As if he was amused by me. Shaking his head as I stood in the open space between the kitchen and the den. Feeling a little foolish for rushing to him like that for no particular reason at all.

"Nothing a little whiskey couldn't fix."

He knew better than to ask for a drink whilst on the course of medication I'd put him on. He was staring at me with a mischief that would usually incite me to join, but I'd tried to keep a professional distance. He was my patient, not my guest.

"I had to put you on a course of antibiotics for the wound to your head." I explained, "I didn't want there to be a risk of infection. If you need some pain relief, I can grab you some tylenol."

His shoulders slumped. And he forgot himself for a moment. Hissing back a stab of pain as he eased back into the chair. He was a terrible patient. Pain didn't sit well with him, despite the fact that I had noticed two major scars running up either side of his left forearm. They were neat and perfectly stitched, no doubt from surgery rather than an open wound. I had meant to ask him about them, stopping myself when I realised that I shouldn't get to know him.

"Forgive me." He sighed, "Sometimes I just need a little something... to forget."

He was bored. I'd seen boredom before. When people who could barely stand would fight to get out of bed just to shift their perspective a little. Nights in the hospital when I'd catch my patients trying to inch their arms up the vending machine to retrieve snacks simply because there was nothing else to do. Nothing good ever came of boredom and he seemed to know this, his gaze shifting around the room looking for something else to do.

"Would you like to help me peel these carrots?" I offered, knowing that it was better than him hankering for a drink.

I pulled out a chair for him as he limped over, seemingly grateful for the distraction. It was still early in the afternoon, but the sun had already dipped below the surrounding trees and it felt much later. I switched on the oil lamp in the centre of the old rustic table, the remains of knives that had been sunk into the old wood scattered the grain. And he noticed.

"Peeled many carrots at this table?" He asked, running his fingers along a particularly deep divet.

What I could offer him, I would grant him. The way he asked so sweetly meant that I couldn't ignore him. My manners were still in there, somewhere. I handed him a peeler and a bunch of carrots encrusted in mud and bade him peel.

"My grandparents didn't believe in waste." I replied, driving the blade down away from me a little more aggressively than I'd intended. "I don't remember a time where this table wasn't here."

He nodded and began peeling a little slower than I would have liked. Taking his time to shave each side meticulously in careful hands so that he didn't cause himself unnecessary pain. Sitting at a strange angle on the admittedly uncomfortable dining chairs.

"It's a nice place." He surmised, "I feel like time stopped here a long time ago and never really caught up."

I quite liked that analogy.

"I guess so." I agreed. "Coming here always felt like I was a child again."

Perhaps he sensed my unease. He didn't say much else for a while, sitting with me in that comfortable quietness as we peeled and chopped and prepared another batch of soup for the coming week. Every now and then he would look up from what he was doing as if to check my mood. To make sure that I was even tempered. And I would try to meet his gaze with something reassuring. Even if I felt like my space was being inadvertently invaded.

"You see places like this in movies." He mentioned, breaking a tension that had seemed to come from nowhere. "Old cabins in the woods. Cosy little fireplaces. Beaten up old furniture and appliances that have no business in the modern world."

I quite liked that analogy, too.

"Well, I think that was the whole point." I shrugged, taking the peeler from him as I took the pot over to the sink. "I don't think my grandparents wanted anything to do with the modern world. They liked it out here. They liked the steady pace. My Dad used to say that they were waiting for the end of the world. Seems a little like a prophecy now..."

I'd said too much. I didn't want him to reel me in, I didn't want him to know me any better than I wanted to know him. The need for conversation had been somewhat diluted with him spending most of his time asleep. But now he was wide awake. Asking questions and spending time with me. And I was terrified of it.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Amelia." He said softly, turning in his seat to face me despite the fact I knew it hurt him to do so. "I'm not going to do anything to hurt you. You saved my life."

His debt of gratitude was misplaced. I'd had no choice in the matter. If I had walked away from that smoking wreck I'd have damned myself regardless, even if faith was something I'd long since abandoned. There was still a part of me that hoped for salvation. I just hadn't known it would come the way that it had. And it was true. I was afraid of him. But perhaps not in the way he perceived.

I was certain that he wasn't going to try and force himself upon me or steal anything. There was a softness to his demeanour that I had picked up on almost the moment he'd regained consciousness. I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was which scared me so much. Other than my intense reluctance to have him become detrimental to me. It didn't really have a name.

"I'm sorry." I faltered, letting the sink run a little before filling the pot. "I've just been alone for so long..."

"As have I." He replied without hesitation. "I've driven north and south, east and west. Towns and cities and country. I've slept in cars and trucks and houses that didn't belong to me. Eaten food out of a can and burned shit to the ground just to stay warm. There's nobody else out there. If there was, I'd have found them. I mean, I did...I found you."

The way he lingered on that last word made me not want to look at him. He was sitting on the edge of the chair, as if he was about to get up but couldn't. I turned away from him and filled the pot with water, doing anything that meant I didn't have to turn back around.

But I knew he was watching me. The kitchen was small, the window above the sink overlooking the woods outside. The gravel path leading up to the cabin winding down into encroaching twilight. I could see my reflection staring back in the dim lamp light. And I knew he could see the pain etched on my face through the glass.

"I'm just one person." I reasoned, "I'm not people."

All his belongings had been burned in the car wreck. He'd been wearing some of the shirts and slacks I'd found at the back of my Grandmother's wardrobe since his arrival. Clothes that were ill fitting and didn't suit him at all. He wasn't comfortable in them and I could see that when he rose from his seat. Not just in pain, but conscious of the way he looked as he appeared in the glass behind me.

"Together we are people." He said, keeping his voice low and soft. "I don't know about you, but I'm just glad to know I wasn't the only one left behind."

I did find some comfort in that. It wasn't something I would ever deny. I found the courage to meet his gaze in our reflection, both of us standing at the window and looking out whilst looking in.

"That's what I'm afraid of." I confessed, swallowing thickly on it as if it was trying to choke me. "What if we weren't left behind? What if..."

There was something in his face that let me know I was safe with him. Enough that I'd let my mouth run away with my thoughts again. Made him listen to me, understand me.

"It's ok." He said comfortingly, touching me for the first time with a careful palm to my shoulder, leaving me breathless where I stood. "Everything's going to be alright."

Day 12 ~ Jake

The grid gave up. I only realised when I reached Detroit and every house I broke into had no power. Every single street light failed to come on. Every single TV wore a blank screen. I couldn't cook a meal or enjoy a hot shower. Nowhere to keep me warm. It was as if everywhere was just giving up. Every last trace that mankind was ever here slowly slipping away.

I weaved through cars on the interstate that had been travelling when it happened. Whatever it was, the thing which had left cars with no drivers barrelling down all four lanes. I didn't want to give it a name. To name it would give it too much power and I knew I wasn't ready to search within myself for emotions that could overcome it, yet.

Dogs were roaming freely in the city, now. Calling out for their masters who would never come. I'd found a few dead ones in houses I'd passed through, unable to free themselves to go hunting or find food and water. Cats, too. The ones roaming free were slowly turning back to their primitive states. Others, dead behind locked doors.

I couldn't seem to find anywhere I wanted to stay around too long. The urge to keep moving ever prevalent. There was a fire in my belly that burned so fiercely I couldn't sleep anymore. Determined to find just a shred of humanity left in the world.

And I wouldn't rest until I had. Even the bones of where people had been were paper thin, echoes long since dimmed. I was losing all sense of time. Each day seemed to merge into the next until I found myself sitting on a curb outside the Detroit motown museum. A place where I had been so many times before. A landmark I could put some familiarity to. Only to feel more lost than I ever had before.

I missed my family. My girlfriend. I couldn't erase the sounds of their jovial laughter on Christmas day. Making the most of our cherished time together, which came so seldomly. The look on my parents' faces when we dropped our luggage at the door after months apart. My brothers and my sister all under the same roof we'd grown up in with our partners and our pets to celebrate for just a few precious days.

I couldn't move past it. The way I'd looked to the sky and thought, at first, it was a shooting star. Only for it to evaporate my senses and render me a prisoner within something I couldn't see. Blinded by the whiteness of it. Replaying it over and over for it to still make as little sense as it had on that very first day.

I sat on that curb and I roared. I let the tears come. The anger and the confusion. Waiting for just one voice to respond to my madness. To just ask me if I was ok and if I needed any help. To just let me know that I wasn't completely alone. To no avail. I was screaming into the ether for none to hear it.

Was I left behind? Or was I spared? Where had they gone? Were they taken or did they go willingly? What had I done to deserve this? What had they done to deserve this? If God had done this why did he forsake me? Or was I so beloved by him that I'd been left behind for a purpose not yet known to me?

I pounded my fist into the concrete. Until it was bloody and I could finally feel something. Aching for a resolution that simply wouldn't come. There was only me.

"Don't be fucking stupid, Jake." I told myself, gathering my bleeding hand into the folds of my t-shirt as I tried to figure out what my next move would be. "Nobody's coming."

That was the moment I realised I couldn't survive if I didn't keep moving. That I would die if I stayed in one place. Where there was nothing but memories and slowly decaying homes and I knew I had to tread through these places like a ghost until I found something that resembled another human being.

I thought I had a kinship with the open road. I had travelled it long and hard. But always with my brothers. Their camaraderie and company had been with me all the days of my life. And I knew that there was no music without Josh. There was no song in my heart without my twin. Only a gaping wound that bled for my counterpart. My soul cried out for him in ways that I never thought I'd have to endure. Of all the people I had loved the most, he was the most fundamental to me.

I'd walked through life with Josh, our paths weaving in parallel lines no matter where our feet would take us. Me with my guitar and him with his voice, knowing that we couldn't make it on our own. We didn't fit. There was nowhere for either of us if we were alone. I missed my little brother and my little sister. I missed our parents and I missed the woman I'd chosen to spend my life with. The echo of her laughter woke me from fitful sleep whenever my body gave in to it.

But it was Josh who left me feeling as if my being there was some grave anomaly. That wherever he had gone, I should have gone too. We came into this life together, surely we must go out of it together? I could still feel his presence in the corner of my eye. The outline of him at my side, faded whenever I turned my head to look. And the sadness of knowing I would feel his absence for the rest of my life was a burden I packed into my car and took with me wherever I would go.

That day it was the new centre one mall. I prized the automatic door open and stood in the empty atrium, my own footsteps too loud for me to tolerate. I couldn't bear the reverb of my boots on marble floor.

I didn't linger. I gathered enough supplies to last me a few weeks, not giving too much thought to what I would need. A winter coat and a few clothing items to replace the ones I'd hastily left behind. I grabbed some pain meds from the pharmacy and a few pouches of tobacco. Loading it straight into the back of my jeep, I felt the creepy chill of the empty mall still climbing up my spine as I sped away. Determined to put as many miles between me and civilisation as I could.

I didn't want to be reminded of it. I hit the road and left the city behind and didn't stop until my palms bled.

Day 2 ~ Amelia

I had to know.

Staring at the blurred outline of myself in the morgue fridge doors, I hesitated. I could feel the palms on both my hands grow sweaty against the cool chrome.

The morgue itself did not appear to look any different than any of the other white washed, sanitary rooms. Except for the slab behind me and a row of handles that once opened would reveal a truth I wasn't certain I was ready for.

I wondered which of the outcomes would give me the most grief. If I opened the door and found nothing there I would know that I'd been forsaken. But if I opened the door to find frozen corpses resting in body bags did that mean only the dead were meant to be left behind? Was I meant to be dead, too?

It did not make sense to linger. Although almost paralysed with the fear of what either outcome would be, I held my breath and gripped the handle tightly with sweaty hands that almost slipped right off.

The lump in my throat threatened to choke me. All I knew was the dragging sensation of my stomach as it dropped. I almost wished that I'd stayed upstairs. On the empty wards where I was none the wiser. Where my ignorance was truly bliss.

There, the shape of what I knew to be a corpse laid motionless inside the bag. Unable to take my eyes from it, I could feel the bile and panic rise in my chest. My mouth filled with saliva and my head spun with a thousand reasons why I should run.

I promptly turned on my heels and vomited into the paper bin by the clinical desk. The contents of my stomach being nothing but water in the last 24 hours. There was nothing but yellow bile in my retch, but I couldn't stop myself. My body ached to purge what I had just seen.

What I knew to be true felt like a nightmare I couldn't wake from. I spat the bitter taste in my mouth out as I went to shove the trolley back where I couldn't look at it.

“Our Father, who art in heaven…” I whispered, never having had much faith in God, I wondered if the prayer would make a difference. "Hallowed be thy name..."

I recalled the prayer from memory. The damned thing etched on my brain from school where I'd been forced to recite it until the words bled on my tongue. Prayer seemed a little futile now, and I was angry with myself for reciting it.

Tears of desolation began to build at the futility of a life that had lead up to this. All those years being taught that the rules of society are absolute. We must pay our taxes and stay in our predetermined lanes. We must adhere to the morals expected of us and dress appropriately for the occasion or the weather. We must respect those above us even if they have little to no respect for us. One of the greatest lies we tell ourselves is that we will be happy if we have a good job and find a partner to share life with and buy a house to live in and drive a good reliable car and have children that meet every expectation once put upon us. Happiness is guaranteed if we can just obtain these things.

In my fury, I grabbed the fridge handle again and pulled out the trolley, a little more aggressively this time and without hesitation I pulled the zip down on the body bag to reveal the crimson and blue face of a young man who had sustained a fatal head injury. I knew it was wrong, but who was going to know? I looked at his peaceful face and countered that he had not been dead for very long. Only a matter of days. He had a look of complete serenity and had it not been for the color of his skin I might have thought him sleeping.

I didn't know his name. His job. If he was married or if he was gay or straight or neither. I didn't know his favorite color or what he liked to do on the weekend. I didn't know a damn thing about him other than he was still here. Where all others had vanished, he and I... we remained. And in that, I found the most soul crushing realisation that I, too, wished that I was dead.

When I put him away there was a sense of loss that I had not expected. A desire to crawl inside there and just fade away like every one else had.

"Rest easy, friend." I sighed, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

I hadn't left the hospital since I'd picked myself up off that cold, hard floor. I'd wandered the corridors and the wards, meandered down into the morgue fuelled by my own morbid curiosity. The dead were still here. And without knowing what that truly meant, I ran until I was out on the eerily empty street.

And it hit me for the first time. Truly. I was alone.

Day 399 ~ Jake

She gave me a room to sleep in. A small, low beamed space that was at the end of the hallway. Served with only a set of pine drawers and a bunk with only the lower bed made up with floral sheets and a knitted comforter. She'd even taken the liberty of leaving me a few clean towels on the end of the bed. Perhaps an insignificant gesture on her part, but to me I almost broke down in grateful tears.

There is no greater sorrow than the memory of love, and the knowledge that it is gone forever. But I felt some warmth walking into that room, despite the pain of climbing the stairs and not really knowing how to properly thank her without spooking her.

"This is the kids room." She explained, "I would have made up the main guest room, but I don't rate the mattress in there. This ones a single, but much softer. I hope it's alright for you. You can use it for as long as you need to."

She lingered in the doorway. I wanted so much to tell her that I had no intention of leaving. That I wasn't a threat to her nor did I intend on ever doing anything that might cause her harm. But the words meant nothing if she wouldn't receive them.

"Thankyou." I managed, "You've been very...hospitable."

Her chin wobbled a little before she smiled. As if the very action of it was a duty to placate me. She would keep me at arms length. And although I didn't blame her, I was curious about her. I couldn't help it.

I'd been out there, suffering. And she'd been here the whole time, not only surviving but thriving.

"Do you need anything else?" She asked, sounding eager to be gone.

I shook my head. "No, this is more than enough."

"Well then, I'll bid you goodnight." She replied sweetly, raising one last smile before she closed the door.

It felt like the entire cabin was a cave of wonders I'd yet to explore. As I slumped down onto the mattress, I noticed a toy chest at the side of the drawers with the name Charlie carved in an ornate font on the top. There were a few children's books piled on top, old and worn spines where they had been lovingly read over and over with a few of them with covers missing entirely.

I was a stranger here. These were her memories, her ties to those who had disappeared. I was a passenger, hitching a ride on everything she had built here to keep alive. If her resources couldn't stretch to accommodate me, it stood to reason that she would want me gone.

A part of me ached to stay, still. The thought of another night alone filled me with a dread I hadn't yet begun to process. If I couldn't go home, then where did I belong? Not here. Not out there, either.

I was thinking about Josh again as I closed my eyes. His infectious, toothy grin and his unflappable optimism. I wanted so much to hear his voice and have him feed me some wisdom he'd learned as he so often did on his spiritual journey. Sometimes I'd agree wholeheartedly, other times I'd roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of the thought but now it all seemed so trivial.

Josh would have been far better suited to being left behind. He'd have found some comfort in the event, no matter how deeply traumatised it had left him. I was the darker entity of our whole, a little more tortured than he was. What a cruel twist of fate to be the one to walk the earth where he had once been. There was no doubt in my mind that Amelia would have felt much safer in Josh's company than whatever I had to offer.

I fell asleep with his voice in my head. For the first time, I managed to drift away without too much of a fight. The closest thing to comfortable I'd been in so long, eventually I slipped into a sleep so deep not even dreams could penetrate.

Her screams did, though. The silence of the night broken by the terrible sounds of a banshee crying out into the darkness. I hit my head on the top bunk as I rose, cursing myself and forgetting for a moment precisely where I was.

Pain ripped through me as I shot out of the bed, tearing down the hallway towards the door at the top of the stairs. With one arm wrapped around my chest, the other lingering on the door handle. I could hear her screaming and crying, her voice unearthly and afraid.

If I had left her to her nightmares, she would have greeted me in the morning knowing that I'd heard her. If I went to give her comfort, would she reject me in fear that I would hurt her? Either way I was damned to my need to respond. I couldn't hear those sounds and not go to her.

"Amelia?" I hedged inside quietly, only to find her thrashing in the bed sheets. "Amelia, wake up..."

She violently tore through me as I reached for her. My healing bones taking a pounding as I wrapped my arms around her body. The gentle hush seemed to break the spell. Although not enough to bring her to full awareness. She breathed heavily against my chest. Her hair drenched in sweat. I swept it back from her face, holding her as tightly as I could.

"I told you, everything's going to be alright." I soothed, letting her calm in my pained embrace. "I'm here, you're not alone anymore."

I was consciously aware that I wasn't dressed. My boxer shorts were enough to conceal the most intimate parts of me. But she was pressed against my bare torso, legs entwined. The darkness of the room shrouding any mounting humiliation in our position.

"It was just a bad dream."

I couldn't be certain if she was still lost to dreams, or awakening as I held her. She stayed so still, like she was locked in a purgatory I couldn't follow her into. All I could do was hold her and pray that she didn't hate me for it.

She was wearing nothing but an old t-shirt and underwear. Her hair all knotted and damp. I could feel the erratic thrum of her heart in each breath she took. My own fluttering uncontrollably at the close proximity of our bodies. She felt like velvet against my skin. All warm and soft, tender to the touch. Eventually, her breathing evened out. And I was gripped with a genuine fear that I'd have to let her go.

"Ever since it happened, I've had nightmares." She said quietly, not daring to move. "Like I've forgotten something and my mind wants so badly for me to remember it but I refuse."

Here in the darkness she could lie in my arms and speak her truth. I would dwell in darkness if it meant that I could keep her. She made no attempt to lift her head, staying firm against me as she let me know my presence was wanted.

"What did you see?" I asked, caressing her with my free hand, sweeping it over her warm cheek.

"Nothing but white." She replied, allowing me to covet her in the only way I knew how. "And that's all I see in my dreams. I'm always back there, blind."

She would speak to me as if I were a stranger in the cold light of day, but here in the middle of the night I knew this was where we truly existed. Every single real thing I had ever known had happened at night. She unravelled in my arms, whether she wanted to or not. Her vulnerability I held like fine china, stroking the side of her face as she continued to calm.

"I saw it too." I replied, trying to keep myself together in the no mans land of how good it felt to hold her and the pain shooting through every single nerve ending.

There was a shaft of moonlight spilling in through the gap in the curtains. A silver shard, like a sword to split the room in half. It illuminated a part of her as she was curled against me. Dark and almost blue, I could see our bodies intertwined. Nothing had ever felt more necessary.

"It never goes away..." She began sobbing, her body vibrating against mine. "It's always there, like it still wants me..."

I searched within myself for a reason to put her aside. To comfort her from further away now that she was settled. But she curled her fingers around my hair, dragging it down against her tear stained cheek.

"Amelia, I..."

What could I say? That I wanted to hold her until dawn, until she was ready for me to slip away? That it had been so long since anyone had touched me that I just wanted to lay there with her and drink her in?

I couldn't say any of it. The moon drifted in and I was beholden to it. To her. To the way she had saved me, not just from the wreck. But from the ruin of a loneliness that was on the fringes of ending me.

Instead I kept my thoughts to myself, giving her only what I thought she could tolerate.

"I'll stay with you, until you tell me to go."

She looked so weary in the light of the moon. Rising from my chest, leaving me cold where she had kept her warmth. Staring at me in the darkness, the whites of her eyes twinkling as she regarded me.

"You would do that. For me?" She asked, the veil between us somewhat torn.

"Of course." I replied, "Whatever you need."

I thought, perhaps, that she would tell me to go. I could see the struggle in her lip as bit it nervously, her chin doing that little wobble that betrayed her desire to smile. I almost cupped it between my thumb and index finger, in a move that felt so natural and yet I had to stop myself.

She propped herself up on the pillow beside me, untangling herself from me. Taking her essence. She remained close, but not enough for me to feel her heartbeat anymore. But I didn't mind. I could see her face in the blue moonlight. Finally it was serene.

"I don't want you to stay if it isn't what you want." She said, her flushed cheek resting in the palm of her hand.

"Are we talking about here in your bed, or are we talking about something else?" I needed the clarification.

She considered it for a moment. Her gaze lowered, she pulled the blanket up towards her chin and offered me some to cover myself.

"Here. In my bed." She replied softly.

I took the blanket that was offered and leaned back into the pillow behind me, propped up against iron bed rails. I covered my lower body, but kept my top half exposed. Rubbing my hand across my ribcage to ease the strain.

"I don't think I could move right now, even if I wanted to." I tried to jest, realising that I'd sounded entirely the opposite to how I truly felt. "Not that I want to... I'm where I want to be. I promise."

Day 399 ~ Amelia

So many nights my screams had rung out unheard. My nightmares gone uncomforted. I would always wake with the same feeling that I couldn't quite put my finger on. That something was trying to make me remember it. And I would always be fighting against it. My bed sheets a mess, tangled in them and my hair pressed to my forehead feeling as if I'd been completely outside of my body.

I wanted so badly for him to remain indifferent to me. But how could I deny this man when he had come to me like that? Without a care for himself. Gathering my shivering body into his arms and holding me when all the other nights I'd fought this battle alone.

He felt so good. Relief surged through my veins, rushing out from the space between my chest and my stomach in waves of heat and yearning for another human's touch. It made me want to stay right there in the crook of his arm, where his hair rested against his shoulders. It made me want to tell him how I felt.

But most of all it made me want him to stay so completely that I found myself relenting to him. Taking a piece of his hair and moving it through my fingers, anything to keep his body attached to mine.

But not if he didn't want it, too. Not if this was just some misplaced sense of duty to go running to my aid.

"I don't want you to stay if it isn't what you want." I told him, dragging myself away from him just enough to gauge his reaction.

He would stay, though. In my bed. In the cabin. I dared to look into his face as the moon shone in through the window. Aspects of it becoming familiar to me in ways that still gripped me in fear.

"I'm where I want to be, I promise." He said, his jaw flexing as he prepared for my response.

"Me too." I replied, turning to catch the first flurries of snow as it danced across the crack in the curtain.

Part Three

@thewritingbeforesunrise @takenbythemadness @katuschka @its-interesting-van-kleep @lvnterninthenight @writingcold @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @edgingthedarkness @velveteencatch @lyndz2names @nina-23-45 @itsafullmoon @vikingisthenewsexy

#greta van fleet #jake kiszka #fanfic #josh kiszka #greta van fleet fan fiction #fanfiction #gvf #gvf fanfiction #jake kiszka fanfic #jake kiszka x reader

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roo-bastmoon · 7 months

Text

Last time I'm gonna get into this...

Within the past 24 hours, there have been FIVE attacks on Weibo with paid hashtags against Jeon Jungkook.

JK has been accused of cheating on a blonde girlfriend, leaving a string of broken hearts, getting a girl pregnant, inappropriate behavior at what looks like a club or karaoke bar, and sexually harassing female staff. These accusations are being systematically criticized and debunked when errors are pointed out.

Clearly, there is a smear campaign coinciding with the release of 3D.

Now look, I cannot promise you that all the "evidence" is manufactured. But it's definitely being weaponized. So I'd ask you to just keep an open mind, use your critical thinking skills, and be patient, because this isn't the first time rumors like this have exploded and it won't be the last. Sometimes it takes a while for the truth to come to light.

You'll never catch me in these streets acting like a cult member. I'm not going to sit here and draw up schematics and comparison photos in some desperate attempt to convince the timeline of anything. Nor am I going to say someone rented a similar apartment, staged it with mood lamps and a doberman, and then had an actor wear a mask to set up JK (more likely, it's a random couple that got filmed without their knowledge). I won't delve into conspiracy theories about companies or competitors or comebacks or cosplayers or any of that.

If later it turns out that Jungkook has a partner other than Jimin, I really hope all the members of this community join me in quietly accepting that and calmly wishing him and Jimin well. The vast majority of people here do not ship them because they are pretty dolls to play with, but celebrate them because they are wonderful human beings with a unique, decade-long relationship that makes us light up inside.

Their bond and their characters speak for themselves. And until they tell us otherwise (or, sadly, until REALLY CONCRETE evidence is leaked--which will be hard to prove in a post-fact world full of AI and deep fakes), we can theorize all day long about their behavior and what it means for their personal lives, but only the Tannies ever truly know what the Tannies are going through.

And as frustrated as we are with not knowing, they have a right to keep it that way.

So please get out of my ask box and instead refocus your energy (she said lovingly). The ajumas are most definitely planning a last minute crazy-cakes push on idolplus and the gap in votes is nowhere near safe for Jimin. It's all hands on deck!! We have less than two days to get the only remaining BTS member his end-of-year award before he serves his country, so please make accounts and VOTE.

Also please stream and buy the new releases to the best of your ability, of course.

And finally, if you have the energy, take a moment to lift someone else up today. Even if it's just a kind word in their inbox. Be a good human and do something gentle and nurturing for yourself while you're at it.

Chins up, my puppykitties. We gotta pull ourselves together.

We are ARMY, and we have battles to win.

Plus, tomorrow begins Jimtober. You guys remember Jimin? Here, let JK help you out with that.

Okay, byyyyyyeeee.

P.S. I love you guys.

#jikook #jungkook #jimin

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feyhunter78 · 1 year

Text

Dearer than I?

Description: You must choose between betraying your dear friend or your dearest love. Got bored during my last half hour of work, and that TikTok audio has been stuck in my head, so here's my attempt to purge it from my mind. Enjoy!!!

His hand is outstretched, patient but pleading, his eyes, dark and intense, but somehow still soft as sunlight settling on the ocean floor.

Your arms are wrapped around yourself, tight and desperate, attempting to keep yourself from metaphorically spilling onto the sand, a bloody mess of grief and regret, of anger and loss.

“Please in yakunaj.” His voice is a whisper, breaking at the end, and it feels as if someone has taken a spear and jammed it through your chest.

You want to look away, you’re desperate to, but cannot. His eyes always draw you back, he need not open his mouth to sing, you were ensnared by a single glance, by the kaleidoscope of warm colors weaved within his eyes.

The invisible thread that exists between you and him keeps you pinned in place. “I would be betraying Shuri, she is my friend, I owe her my life.”

“You would betray me, instead?” He asked, voice still soft, as if it would pain him to raise it.

You wished he would yell, scream, rage, do anything, be anything, but this soft broken K’uk’ulkan that stands before you.

You swallow hard, blinking away tears, your lips move but no sound escapes.

The waves crash on the shore, the nightbirds sing, the wind swirls between the two of you, and you take a step forward. Towards him, the man—the god—the mutant—whatever the hell he is, and he takes in a quick breath, chest expanding as you draw closer.

“I love you.” You manage to utter, your heart in a vice grip, the pressure of the choice you must make weighs so heavily upon you, and you wish to collapse, to drown, rather than make it.

“Then take my hand, burn the world with me.” He pleaded, the moonlight bathing him in her soft glow, shining off the gold he adorned himself with.

All his focus is on you, every flicker within his eyes, every rise and fall of his chest, every syllable that passes through those perfectly formed lips, is for you.

“I would be betraying Wakanda, the very country I left my home to protect, the one who embraced me even though I did not bear her blood.” You stressed, praying he would understand, that somehow, he would make the decision for you.

“And you believe Talkon would not do the same? That they would not welcome you with open arms, that my people would not rejoice in the fact that I have found my queen?” His fingers twitched as if he wished to take your hand, to press it to his heart as he often did when making silent promises.

“I didn’t say that—”

The anguish is clear in his low voice as he cuts you off. “You are mine, my queen, you have stolen my heart and held it captive within your chest. I cannot retrieve it without cracking open your ribs and ripping it out, and to do so—to do so would end me. I cannot fathom harming you in reina, do not force my hand, I beg of you.”

Tears slip down your cheeks, your heart pounds against your chest so strongly for a moment you think that perhaps he is right, his heart resides beside your own, for your heart never possessed such strength. “If I could return it to you, I would, K’uk’ulkan I would never wish you pain, never wish to force your hand.”

His tone is angry now, words sharp as the weapons his people favor, but his eyes remain swirling pools of grief. “I do not want it back, it is yours. I want you. I want the woman I love by my side, where I can protect her.”

You’re on the brink of sobbing, of falling to the sand and crying until your tears flow, so heavily you become one with the sea. “I cannot betray them; they are dear to me.”

His fingers curl inwards, slowly, mournfully. “Dearer than I?”

You shake your head, mind a whirlwind of choices, of answers, of guilt and grief, and want.

You want to be with K’uk’ulkan, you want to ease his pain, to smooth out the furrow of his brow, to sit by his side and be his queen. You are both immortal, if Talkon remained hidden, you would rule together for eternity.

“No, no one is dearer than you.” You admit, half-adoringly, half-helplessly.

You are helpless against the torrent that is your affections for him, helpless to the call of his heart to yours. He’s wrong, his heart does not reside within your chest, beside your own, for yours has slipped between the cracks of your ribs and into his own. He carries your heart as you carry his.

“Then I do not under—”

It’s your turn to cut him off. You take his hand, unfurling it, and bringing it to your cheek before you kiss him. Fervently, desperately, wishing to drown in him before your grief chokes you. “No one, there is no one dearer than you.” You assure him, willing your heart to return to your chest, to free him from this torment.

Your heart gives no answer except beating in time with his, two drums of war echoing each other’s call.

He cradles your cheek, his free arm wrapping around your waist, crushing you against him. “In reina, in reina, in reina.” He whispered over and over as he brushed soft, grateful kisses to every inch of your skin. “I love you, only you, I am yours.”

“I am yours, your queen.” You echo, letting him take you under, the world muffled by the sea.

You would not face Shuri, would not return to Wakanda until she was long dead, perhaps then you could seek forgiveness from her grave.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @starlady66

#namor x reader #namor x you #k’uk’ulkan #k'uk'ulkan x you #k'uk'ulkan x reader #tenoch huerta namor #mcu namor #meg's writing #ok I feel like this was poetic af and I love that for me #mutant!reader #healer!reader #let's just say I'm always making the reader a healing mutant bc it's easier #unless I had like a request for a different type of reader then obvi I'd follow the request #namor imagine #namor fanfiction #i love when men are in anguish over their love #it's just *chef's kiss*

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spiritedscorpio · 1 year

Text

When they find out that you're jealous (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Warning: Slight smut

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Atsushi:

Honestly, for the most part the two of you have a pretty healthy relationship, you both wanted nothing else but to make each other happy and he often told you how much he appreciated everything you did-- regardless of how small it may have been

However, his extremely friendly nature occasionally posed problems. You normally were pretty good at not thinking anything of it and while you knew he'd never do anything to hurt you, it sometimes came off in a different way, especially when it came to his friendship with Lucy

You noticed she had feelings for him but the fact that Atsushi either was oblivious to them or just wasn't entertaining them removed most of your worries-- until today when she asked him to help her strengthen her ability

Atsushi being eager to help people as always agreed, clearly thinking the offer was innocent but to you it was clear that she was considering it a date. You weren't sure whether he agreed because he was interested or because he had no idea, leaving you fairly distant the rest of the day. Whenever he initiated physical contact you didn't return it leaving him concerned however he decided to bring it up when you two were alone

When you reluctantly told him what was wrong, he initially was shocked to hear about Lucy's feelings but was quick to reassure you that nothing was going on

He says something like: "Oh, I'm so sorry I worried you, if you want I can tell her I'm busy"

The sincerity in his tone completely washes away your worries and you tell him you're okay with him going

Even though you say you're fine now, he makes a point to spend as much time with you as possible and tells you how much he loves you even more than before ❤️

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Kunikida:

His ideals both benefited and hindered your relationship, some of his actions seemed to be forced as it was what "a proper boyfriend would do" but he also constantly told you that being insincere about his feelings isn't something that an ideal boyfriend or even man would do

Normally this kept your relationship in balance-- that is until you found him and Yosano drunk in her office. Kunikida didn't drink much so you figured it was her idea but that didn't excuse what you saw

As you walked by her office, you saw her on top of him, in a position that made it look like they were kissing-- at the very least. You left without drawing attention to yourself and waited at home for him to explain himself

He came home many hours later, looking exhausted. "Sorry I'm late y/n, I got drunk and passed out at the office" Your expression remained stern and uninterested. After explaining why you were angry he was clueless for a second before remembering what happened

He told you that after getting drunk Yosano went on a rant about his hair and how he should change his haircut. He further explained that she ended up sitting on him and pretending to cut the areas of hair she felt should be altered but nothing actually happened

After apologizing he says: "What kind of scum would I be if I cheated on my loyal partner?" He tiredly rants about how morally wrong that would be and promises to make it up to you

The next day he surprises you with a huge bouquet of flowers on your desk❤️

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Dazai:

While he overall treated you well, his very promiscuous past often left you worrying and insecure. Also, with his looks, it wasn't uncommon for women to approach him. While he never accepted these women's offers, his response somewhat bothered you

He would often say something like: "While I'm very flattered, I am seeing someone currently so I have to decline" You understood that he was likely just trying to them let down easily but you couldn't help but see it as him being slightly disappointed that he had to turn them down

Later that week you, Dazai, and Ranpo were investigating a case and the guilty one turned out to be the ex-wife of the victim. She had long black hair, blue eyes, and was fairly thin but curvy. In attempts to get out of her punishment, she began flirting and getting all touchy with Dazai as he was the one who was attempting to handcuff her

"My, aren't you a flatterer? But..." He managed to get the handcuffs around her second wrist. "That's not getting you out of this" You, being quite fed up with him acting this way, stormed off leaving a smirk on his face. He was enjoying your reaction and made a point to tease you later for it.

He later burst into your office, trying to be affectionate but you ignored him entirely until bringing up what happened earlier. "Aren't you grumpy today! I truly hope it isn't because of that woman, after all, I didn't initiate anything"

You tried to remain unfazed but he kept poking at you. "Hmm, I wonder what it was about her that bothered you. Did you feel inadequate next to her? Or is it that you don't want another woman to lay her hands on me?"

You glared back at him "And what if I don't?"

"I never said there was anything wrong with that" He sat on your desk. "But that is oddly possessive of you, I like it" He makes sure to prove that you're the only one he has eyes for later

In the bedroom.

He says something like: "See y/n? Do you think I'd be fucking some random woman this well? You think I'd be telling anyone but you how pretty they look as they take my cock while I spread them open? While his words were somewhat reassuring, it wasn't like you could form complete sentences anyways-- the only word that left your mouth was his name

A smirk formed on his face. "That's right, you're mine" His expression slightly softened "Just like I'm yours"❤️

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A/n: I really enjoyed writing this so let me know if you have any scenario suggestions!

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #atsushi nakajima #atsushi x reader #bsd atsushi #atsushi x you #dazai osamu #dazaibsd #dazai x you #kunikida x reader #kunikida x you #fanfic

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lilyevanstan1325 · 3 months

Text

❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Chapter 9

My head hurts like a bitch.

My breath rises laboriously down my throat, coming out in trembling sighs from my ajar mouth.

I've been locked in Dale's RV for hours now and I don't plan on going anywhere, not until I'm sure Carol is okay.

Just as I am certain that my friend will never be okay again.

Never again.

A deafening silence surrounds us.

With my arms folded over the small table and my head resting on them I cast yet another worried glance in Daryl's direction.

The man is sitting on the sink counter, right next to the vehicle door.

Our eyes meet for a fraction of a second then he drops his gaze on the rifle he still holds in his arms.

We've been going like this for hours.

It's as if he feels guilty and can't keep his gaze on me, it's as if he fears seeing the disappointment in my eyes towards him because he feels personally responsible for what happened to Sophia.

I can see the anger and the pain eating him up from inside.

Even if only partially, I understand what he is feeling.

Daryl poured his heart into this research and now he feels like all this failure falls on his shoulders.

Sophia's death was a heavy blow for everyone.

Carol continues to sob and with each sob my heart breaks more and more.

Out the window I can see the others at work.

Some are digging holes while the others are moving the bodies.

I bury my face in my crossed arms again.

Old pains inside me seem to awaken, making my guts twist in a painful way.

It's as if in a fraction of a second, in the infinitesimal time that that damned bullet ended Sophia's life, all my demons resurrected from the dark place of my heart where I had buried them.

Even though I didn't have the time to get to know and love that little girl, I feel like I've lost someone important again.

Her death broke another small portion of my heart.

Nothing will be the same.

Carol will never be the same again.

Daryl will never be the same again.

And I know how selfish it is of me to worry about something like this but her death will inevitably change my relationship with these two people.

I feel like I've lost a mother for the second time.

A soft whistle makes me lift my head.

Daryl is looking at me intensely, in his eyes a concern that goes beyond human comprehension, in his eyes there is perhaps too much pain for a single soul.

“Ya good?” he whispers, his voice hoarse, speaking to me for the first time since he joined Carol and me in this RV.

I shrug weakly before immediately returning my attention to the woman in front of me.

Carol sitting on the bed and looking out the window doesn't even seem to notice our presence.

Her gaze is fixed and absent as if her mind is light years away.

And I feel fucking helpless.

Helpless in this such immense pain.

I think back to my mom, I think back to the day I had to say goodbye to her.

The knowledge that I will never see her smile again, that my ears will never again be able to enjoy her sweet laughter, hits me with such violence that it makes me breathless.

I think back to the last time I saw my father, I think back to the fact that I couldn't say goodbye to him...

A wave of tears gathers in my eyes forcing me to hide my face in my arms again.

Trying to hide the sobs shaking my chest, I bite my tongue until it bleeds.

A hand brushes my shoulder and then a strong arm wraps around them and I find myself with my face pressed against the archer's chest.

“Shhhhh.Everythin’ will be fine, sunshine” Daryl whispers in my ear, trying to gently silence my crying.

I feel terribly guilty.

What right do I have to cry?

Who gives me the right to suffer when in front of me I have a woman who has lost her little girl?

I feel like a monster and this only makes my sobs increase.

I try to suffocate them forcefully by burying my face in the man's chest and crumpling the fabric of his shirt between my fingers.

“Hey” he murmurs in a faint strangled voice, also wrapping his other arm around me, drawing me towards his body and taking me into his arms, he makes me sit on his lap.

I'm sorry to make him worry about me too but I can't help but feel happy for his closeness at this moment.

I should be stronger and be the one ready to console but in this moment all I can offer to Carol is just my presence, I can't do more.

I finally look up at Daryl's face who, despite being destroyed by pain, gives me a small smile, just a corner of his lips raised.

“Hey” he repeats cupping my face in his big hands.

“It will be fine.Now we have to be strong, alrigh’?”

I nod imperceptibly before his lips caress mine with such sweetness that it makes me tremble.

A light knock on the door makes us jump while Carol on the other hand doesn't even seem to notice.

After a few moments the door of the RV opens and Lori steps in.

The woman looks exhausted, her swollen and red eyes rest on me for a moment.

She doesn't seem surprised by my closeness to Daryl as she sketches a shy, tired smile in our direction after which she lets out a shaky breath as she lowers her gaze.

“They're ready.Come on” she exhales as if these few simple words had drained her of all energy.

I know what her words mean.

And God only knows how much they hurt.

My attention immediately shifts to Carol.

The woman shakes her head slightly without moving her tormented gaze from the window.

“Why?” she whispers.

Her voice brims with resignation.

Daryl beneath me shifts slightly, tightening his grip on me.

“’Cause that's yer little girl” he replies softly as his worry-filled eyes move to the woman.

Finally Carol's gaze turns towards us and the harshness I see within them scares me.

“That's not my little girl.That's some other…thing” she says, choking on her own words.

Then she lowers her gaze again, looking back at the field outside the RV.

For a moment no one speaks, perhaps too shocked by the cynicism of her words.

I can't understand her.

I didn't see my mother turn into one of those monstrous beings but I'm sure that even if it had happened, I would have wanted to witness her burial.

I would still have given her a last final goodbye.

“My Sophia…” Carol whispers in a breathy voice.

“My Sophia was alone in the woods.All this time I thought…” her words are just a quiet murmur as she fights her own tears.

“She didn't cry herself to sleep.She didn't go hungry.She didn't try to find her way back.Sophia died a long time ago”

I can feel Daryl tense up.

The resigned words of our friend crumbled the man's last bit of self-control.

I can feel the anger, the anger at not being able to find Sophia in time, boiling under his skin and crashing in waves all around him.

Lori, head bowed, steps back out of the RV.

I need to do something so without thinking twice I get up from my little safe haven and join Carol with a couple of determined, almost furious strides.

The man's determined footsteps sound behind me but when I turn around he is no longer there.

All this is definitely too much for him and, rather than bursting out and threw up all his disappointment, he has decided that it is better to let it go.

I stand in front of the woman, my hands resting on my hips and a thousand words that continue to boil into my head.

I breathe in and out slowly trying to calm my heartbeat.

“Carol, you can't be serious” I begin, trying to keep my emotions in check.

Now it's not about me but about her.

And I care enough about her to stop her from doing something I'm sure she'll regret in the future.

The woman doesn't even look at me, her stubborn gaze far from mine.

She shrugs as if to tell me who cares.

Softening my gaze and my posture I sit on the bed next to her tapping my knee on hers.

Slowly and with a sigh she turns in my direction, her large shining eyes making my stomach tighten in a vice.

I don't think I've ever seen so much pain reflected in the eyes of another human being.

Losing someone you love is always painful but losing a daughter...

I don't think there is a greater pain.

No one should ever feel such sorrow.

I lost my mom, my dad, my life...yet I survived.

Yet I still fight.

But Sophia…she was her flesh and blood.

Every breath she takes hurts right now and will do so for every single day she lives.

Even though she will be surrounded by people who love her she will never love anyone else like she loved her sweet little girl.

And it is precisely for this reason that Carol must give her a final goodbye.

“Carol I won't pretend to understand how you feel right now, really.But you have to do it.You have to get out of here and say goodbye to your little girl”

The woman shakes her head, a few tears escape her control sliding down her cheeks.

“Listen to me.That may not be your little girl out there but her spirit is still here.Give her the peace she deserves.Sophia deserves to rest in peace and she will never be able to do so if her mom doesn't let her go”

The words get stuck in my throat but I continue undaunted, even ignoring the woman's sobs which slowly grow in intensity.

I grab her hands and squeeze them in mine.

“You're not alone, Carol.You have Daryl.You have Rick.And Dale, and Lori, and Glenn.We are all here for you.I'm here for you.You have me”

I lift her hands still clasped in mine to kiss her knuckles softly and stop fighting my own tears.

“I am here.I know that nothing will ever fill that void but I'm here.Maybe you don't even care but if you give up...I need you Carol.If you don't say goodbye to your sweet little girl today you will lose yourself...I will lose you”

A sob shakes both of our chests at the same time.

I sniffle, wiping my tears against my own shoulder.

“If it wasn't for you maybe I would still be tied up in that stable or Shane would have already broken my neck.You are all I have left.Please Carol…I've already lost my mom…I can't lose you too”

I know it's sound so fucking selfish.

I know I should think of her best.

But…but I've already lost so much that I don't know if I could get through this too.

By now we are both crying without any restraint.

Both heartbroken but for two completely opposite reasons.

Then through tears and pain Carol nods.

I smile at her weakly through tears.

“I will be with you, step by step.I'll stick so close to your ass that you'll end up hating me.But you will never be alone.Never” I tell her, drawing a light laugh from her which is immediately suffocated by yet another sob from her.

I let go of her hands so I can hug her.

I hold her head against my chest, stroking her hair.

Carol presses her face against me and I let her vent, welcoming all her tears, all her pain, hoping to make it a little mine and lighten this painful load on her soul.

When we arrive near the trees where the holes were dug for Sophia and Hersel's family, there is no one left.

Hesitant Carol approaches the smaller mound of earth, kneeling in front of it.

Without disturbing her, I kneel next to her, stroking her back in a reassuring manner.

Carol lowers her head, sinking her hands into the freshly loose dirt, crying all her tears, giving vent to all her pain.

“It's okay, honey.It's okay” I try to reassure her when the tears seem to take her breath away.

Footsteps come from behind us.

Daryl clears his throat before dropping to one knee alongside Carol.

In his hands he holds a small bouquet of Cherokee roses.

I smile at his sweet gesture.

“Do ya want…”

Carol shakes her head vigorously, interrupting the man.

“Would you do it for me?” she croaks in response.

Daryl doesn't have to be told twice and, standing up, places the flowers on little Sophia's grave with unprecedented delicacy.

When he stands up, his gaze rests on my face for a moment and then immediately lowers it and turns his back on us.

Even though the contact between our eyes was brief, I managed to catch the glimmer of his tears.

Making sure Carol is okay, I get up, brushing the dirt off my knees with my hands and with a hesitant step I approach the man's back, placing a hand on it.

Daryl gasps violently without turning so determined to respect his wishes I don't look for his gaze.

I just hug him from behind, intertwining my fingers on his abdomen.

His chest rises and falls rapidly.

He is crying.

And for the umpteenth time today my heart breaks.

I rest my cheek on his back trying to offer him the only thing I have at the moment.

My love.

Because yes, it may be crazy, but I feel like I feel something for this man that goes far beyond the simple attraction.

Because, surrounded by all this pain, I understood that if I had been the one to lose him, I wouldn't have tolerated it.

Today with the discovery of Sophia's now dead body I clearly understood that I cannot lose him.

“I'm here, big boy.I'm here" I whisper kissing him between his shoulder blades.

In response, his calloused fingers intertwine with mine and his breathing slowly slows, his body relaxes.

Daryl Dixon is all I have and I will always protect him.

I will forever protect his pure and tortured soul.

Behind us, a rustle of clothes followed by a timid voice brings us back to the present.

I slowly release my hands from the archer's and focus on Carol again.

A sad smile flits across her face as she stretches her arms in my direction.

Without having to tell me anything I give her what her eyes are asking me.

I hug her and even though I'm shorter than her I welcome her head against my chest.

Her arms envelop me while her voice, made hoarse by her tears, murmurs a small thank you.

Carol raises her head and waving a hand behind me she whispers “Come here, pookie”

After a few moments, Daryl's chest is pressed against my back.

All three held in one embrace.

All together as a family.

Because now we are a family.

We may not be connected by blood but something much stronger unites us.

We chose each other and we will protect each other as long as we have breath in our bodies.

After making sure Carol was okay, I begged Daryl to never leave her side and to come find me if there were any problems.

“Hey, I can handle her.Go” murmurs the archer, squeezing my upper arm with his hand and after kissing my forehead he moves away and sits a few steps away from Carol who is kneeling again in front of her daughter's tomb.

I really want to stay here and not leave her but I need to go check on Rick.

The desperation painted in his eyes after he pulled the trigger haunts a part of my brain.

His lost gaze wandering aimlessly as it fell on every person gathered around him is seared into my mind.

With a determined step I head towards Hersel's big house.

When my feet touch the first steps of the porch I feel a shiver shake me.

The house seems quiet when I walk through the door so looking around I head towards the kitchen but halfway I bump into a figure who quickly tries to reach the back door.

“Ouch” I hiss, running my hand over the bandage over my eyebrow as Glenn wraps a hand around his nose, his eyes bright from the impact.

“Where are you going in such a hurry, buddy?” I peep, pressing my fingers over the white gauze, underneath I can feel the slight pulsation from the stitches.

Glenn moves his hand away from his face, sniffing.

“Sorry Sum.I'm catching up with Rick.We're going to look for Hersel” he replies, trying to dodge me to reach the door.

I follow him, following his every step.

Hersel?

Why?

What happened?

“Glenn!” I get his attention by grabbing his hand.

The boy stops his run, finally resting his eyes on me.

“Beth seems to be in shock and we can't find Hersel anywhere.Rick and I are going to the bar downtown to look for him”

I nod once.

“I'll come with you” I offer immediately.

Even though a big part of me is screaming at me to stay here, to protect Carol, to stay by Daryl's side, I know I can't do it.

A little voice in my head keeps telling me that right now I'm an outsider and that I can't intrude on these people's pain so any distraction is welcomed.

And looking for the vet, being able to move away from here, seems to me to be the most suitable solution.

Glenn shakes his head as he grabs a rifle from on top of an old coffee table.

Before he can argue I place the flat palm of my hand against his mouth.

“I'm not asking your permission” I wink and, watching him while he snorts resignedly, I follow him through the back door.

Once outside we find Maggie leaning with her back to the wall and her arms crossed in front of her chest.

Smiling at her I leave them alone as I approach Rick.

The former officer doesn't even look at me but I can see a corner of his lips lifting into a sly smile.

“I bet you'll join us” he murmurs with a nod towards the car.

“Obviously.In fact, I'm offended that you didn't come looking for me.Do you really think I would have let you go alone?” I reply in a light but serious tone, giving him a playful shove.

Rick chuckles under his breath.

“Do you have a weapon?”

“I have my knife”

“Take this” he replies handing me a gun which I accept without replying.

I know that the use of guns must be strictly necessary due to the noise but nowadays it is better not to be caught unprepared.

“Does Daryl know?”

His question catches me off guard, making my gaze move from the weapon I hold in my hands to his face.

His clear blue eyes are focused behind me.

“He's not my fucking nanny” I huff, following the direction of his gaze.

My lips curve upwards.

“They're cute, aren't they?” I chuckle, returning my attention to the man next to me.

Rick smiles and then directs his glittering gaze of mischievous into mine.

“Yeah.You and Daryl are cute too.This is why you have to tell him where you're going because I don't want to catch an arrow up my ass”

I blush at his statement but intending not to show it I put on a cooky smile.

“Your ass is safe, cop.Let's go” I urge him, getting into the car while Glenn joins us with his shoulders down.

Rick sits in the driving seat while Glenn sits next to him, I sit in the center of the back seat so I can have a good view of the road and the men in front of me.

The journey proceeds in silence.

None of us speak perhaps too lost in our mental ruminations.

Too many things happened today and all too quickly.

Shane lost his mind.

We have all lost it.

Heavy words were flown and after all this I don't know if the group will ever go back to how it used to be.

Glenn continues to fidget on his spot.

Rick sends me worried looks through the rearview mirror, looks to which I respond with constant shrugs.

I honestly can't understand what's going on in my friend's head at the moment.

When the outlines of the buildings in the city appear on the horizon Glenn breaks the silence that surrounds us.

“Maggie said she loves me” he suddenly blurts out, turning his gaze towards Rick.

I smile radiantly.

“That’s great, Glenn” I laugh, leaning forward and placing a hand on his shoulder.

Glenn looks back at me but his face is serious.

Too serious.

Wait.

“That's a good thing, right?” I ask now unsure.

I certainly didn't expect such a detached reaction from the delivery guy.

If I had been in his place, if Daryl had said he loved me, I think I would have jumped out of my own skin.

The thought makes me blush and I chew my lower lip.

Glenn lets out a nervous laugh.

“She doesn't mean It.I mean she doesn't.I mean…well…she…she's upset or confused.She’s probably feeling like…” he exclaims, speaking hurriedly, the stuttered words rolling off his lips quickly.

“I think she's smart enough to know what she's feeling” Rick interrupts, eliciting a confident shake of the head from Glenn.

“No, no!”

Rick and I smile amused by his reaction.

“No it does not.You know what?She wants to be in love, so she's…she needs something to…to, like…to hold onto” continues the boy undaunted.

I can understand him.

Nowadays, becoming so attached to someone, even falling in love, is always a big risk.

We may never live long enough or even worse we may helplessly witness the death of those we love.

I understand why he tries to push away her feelings.

After all, how long has he known Maggie?

He knows her just a few days longer than I know Daryl.

I understand how the magnitude of such a huge, sudden feeling can catch you off guard.

But that doesn't mean it's right to reject it, on the contrary we must live it as much as we can because if Sophia's death has taught us anything it is that nothing lasts forever anymore.

Then it's best to bask in what little love we have left in the little time we have left.

“Glenn, it's pretty obvious to everyone Maggie loves you.For everyone except you of course, you stupid hassole.And not just because you're one of the last men standing” I encourage him, resting my chin on the seat where he sits.

Rick nods as if he agrees with every single word I say.

“I mean what's the problem?” I add softly.

Glenn looks out the window as if he's trying to coax the right words into his confused head.

“I didn't say it back”

“Shit” Rick and I exclaim at the same time.

I rise from my position to rest my back against the soft leather seat crossing my arms over my chest.

“Oh man.You fucked up” I tease him by pushing the sole of my boot against his seat.

“Hey!” he exclaims, turning his torso in my direction.

“I was nervous, okay?I've never had a woman say that to me before.You know, except for my mom, of course, and my sisters.But with Maggie, it's different.We barely know each other.What…what does she really know about me?Nothing!We're practically strangers”

The words slip out of my mouth before I can realize it.

“So?Even I barely know Daryl but I love him anyway”

When my words hit my own ears I curse myself.

I look down at my crossed arms chewing my cheeks nervously.

Why the hell did I say that?

God, I wish right now a chasm would open up under my stupid ass and swallow me.

A loud laugh resonates in the cockpit making me blush even more, I can feel my blood rushing through my veins violently.

I risk a look in front of me, finding Glenn's sly smile and Rick's bright and attentive eyes staring at me from the rearview mirror.

“Not a word, dumbass” I mutter, making both of us laugh this time.

Rick shakes his head with an amused expression and then turns his attention to the man sitting next to him.

“Listen to me, Glenn.This is a good thing, something we don't get enough of these days.Enjoy it.And when we get back, return the favor.It's not like she's going anywhere.And…”

I can feel Rick's smile as he turns his head ever so slightly in my direction.

“Same goes for you Summer.Tell Daryl how you feel”

Determined to ignore him I refuse to meet his gaze, he's too amused for my tastes.

“We're not talking about me.Keeps driving, sheriff” I murmur with an angry frown as the man slows down, having now reached the center of the city.

I don't like this attention towards me.

After a few minutes Rick pulls over the car and looking around, making sure the road is clear of dangers, we get out of the car and go into the bar that Maggie had suggested.

The room is dark and dusty.

Under my feet the dark wooden floor, matching the chairs and tables, creaks.

Rick proceeds slowly and Glenn, after a final glance towards the street, closes the door behind us.

Hersel is sitting on a stool right in front of us, his back to us while his arms are resting on the counter, in his hands he seems to be holding a glass full of an amber liquid.

After everything that's happened, I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't like a drop too.

“Hersel?” Rick calls him cautiously.

The man doesn't flinch, he doesn't move.

He doesn't seem at all surprised by our presence.

“Who's with you?” the man asks without turning.

His voice barely holds back the agonizing pain.

For him we are only the murderers of his family, we are the people who turned his peaceful life upside down.

“Summer.And Glenn” replies the former officer remaining still.

“Did Maggie send them?”

“They volunteered.They're worried”

Glenn and I exchange a look, leaving Rick to resolve the matter.

Slowly Rick approaches.

I grab Glenn's hand and indicate with a nod to one of the tables, the furthest from the two men but the closest to the windows at the entrance, so as to be able to leave the right amount of privacy to the two men but close enough to keep an eye on the situation outside.

Rick and Hersel's words are just a low murmur so I take the opportunity to talk to Glenn.

“Hey!What happened after…” I don't finish my sentence, Glenn knows what I'm referring to.

What happened after Rick shot Sophia.

Glenn glances at the counter and then brings his big dark eyes back to me.

With a slow movement he places the rifle on the table, running his hands through his hair.

“Shane accused Hersel of knowing that Sophia was in the barn and now he wants us out of his land”

“Shit”

“Yeah, shit”

“And you?What do you think you will do?” I ask even though deep down I already know the answer.

“What do you mean?" he whispers in response, avoiding my gaze.

One corner of my lips lifts.

I gently place a hand on that of the boy in front of me.

“You know what I'm talking about”

Glenn shakes his head, removing his hand from my grip and crossing his arms over his chest.

I can feel the confusion in his mind from here.

“I honestly don't know”

“Are you sure?”

“Maggie will never leave her family”

“I know”

“And I can't leave mine” Glenn sighs heartbroken, finally deciding to bring his frightened and lost gaze back into mine.

“Glenn, we are not your family”

I immediately stop him with a wave of my hand when I see his gaze darken, offended by my words.

“I don't mean that.Yes, it's true we are a family but she is the love of your life.How do you think I can ever live in peace knowing that I took you away from her?None of us could stand it, Glenn.But she has her father, Beth, Patricia, Jimmy.They have a safe place and I...I would be much calmer knowing you were there than in the middle of that shit out there” I try to make him think while I point the way outside with a finger.

Glenn sighs, closing his eyes and leaning back in the chair, his fingers wrapping around the locks of his hair, pulling them tightly.

The situation he finds himself in is not easy because, putting myself in his shoes, I am sure that, even though the choice would make me suffer, I would choose to follow the person I love.

I would choose Daryl.

“If Daryl asked you to give up everything and everyone, would you do it?”

I nod again before Glenn finishes his question.

He looks at me with a skeptical frown, I smile back at him.

“This doesn't mean I don't care about you but I'm sure I'll never find such a great love again.How could I leave him behind?”

Glenn seems to reflect on my words even though his furrowed eyebrows indicate that an ocean of conflicting emotions is still churning within him.

Some footsteps catch our attention and when we look behind us we see Rick approach the door of the bar and open it, Glenn and I immediately go alongside him to understand what is happening.

Rick shakes his head dejectedly but he seems to think about something so he turns back to the vet who still stubbornly turns his back on us.

“So what do we do?Just wait for him to pass out?” Glenn asks on the doorstep.

“Just go.Just go!” Hersel silences us.

Rick takes a couple of steps in his direction.

“I promised Maggie I'd bring you home safe”

Rick barely keeps his calm as he tries to reason with the man who in response snorts amused.

“Like you promised that little girl?”

His words take us by surprise with their wickedness.

He must be really upset, Hersel isn't like that.

But before Glenn and I can avoid it, Rick reaches the man, his nervous footsteps sounding loud and confident on the old wooden floor.

“So what's your plan?Finish that bottle?Drink yourself to death and leave your girls alone?”

“Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm” Hersel blurts out, slamming the empty glass on the counter and finally deciding to get up and face Rick angrily.

“Your people are like a plague!I do a Christian thing, give you shelter, and you destroy it all!” he shouts while gesticulating senselessly but Rick doesn't seem intimidated by all that anger.

“The world was already in bad shape when we met”

“And you take no responsibility!You're supposed to be their leader!”

“Well I'm here now, aren't I?”

The two men are now shouting at each other.

With the tip of my boot I hit Glenn's foot, silently asking him if we shouldn't intervene before the situation can escalate further or, even worse, their screams can attract unwanted attention.

Glenn raises a hand as if telling me to wait.

In fact, after a few moments Hersel seems to calm down and regain some lucidity.

“Yes.Yes, you are” he sighs, staggering towards the stool and collapsing onto it, after which he grabs the glass and takes another sip.

“Come on” Rick urges him again with an authoritative voice but this time with a little more sweetness.

“Your girls need you now more than ever” I whisper moving closer until I reach the man, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Hersel looks at me with his deep blue eyes with a storm reflected in them.

“I didn't want to believe you” he says, dodging my hand violently but keeping his gaze fixed on mine.

“You told me there was no cure, that these people were dead, not sick.I choose not to believe that.But when Shane shot Lou in the chest and she just kept coming, that's when I knew what an ass I'd been, that Annette had been dead long ago and I was feeding a rotten corpse!That's when I knew there was no hope.And when that little girl came out of the barn, the look on your face, while you held her mother in your arms, I knew you knew too.Right?”

His words freeze my blood in my veins.

I remember that moment.

The moment I realized it was all over.

That there is no more hope.

That all hope died the moment Sophia stepped out of that damn barn.

The sweet vet's eyes are filled with tears just like mine.

Behind us Rick and Glenn seem to be holding their breath.

“There is no hope, Summer.And you know it now, like I do.Don't you?”

I put a hand on my chest trying to contain the pain that this man's words are awakening in my old broken soul.

A solitary tear escapes my control, eliciting a bitter smile from the man.

“There is no hope for any of us, Summer” he sighs, turning his back on me again.

My gaze shifts to my two friends who are looking at me helplessly while I sink into my own pain but...it is thanks to they worried gaze that I find the way back to myself.

I approach and position myself between them.

“It's not like that Hersel.Maybe...maybe a week ago I would have agreed with you.I was alone.Scared.I was ready to die alone.But then…then I found them” I murmur, smiling sweetly at the two men.

“I found friends”

I smile in Glenn's direction.

“I found a brother”

I say with more and more conviction, touching Rick's hand.

“I found love”

And I feel my heart explode thinking about the gruff man who must surely be worrying waiting for my return.

“I found a family.I have found hope again”

This time my voice sounds strong and confident around us.

“And if you can't see the beauty and the wonder and how God is so immense to still grant us these joys in this dirty, depraved world I feel sorry for you Hersel.I'm really sorry”

Glenn wraps an arm around my shoulders, leaving a kiss on my temple.

Rick squeezes my hand and then approaches Hersel in a last tired attempt to make him reason once and for all.

“Look, I'm done.I'm not doing this anymore, cleaning up after you.Do you know what the truth is?Nothing has changed.Death is death.It's always been there, whether it's from a heart attack, cancer or a walker.What's the difference?You didn't think it was hopeless before, did you?Now there are people back at home trying to hang on.They need us even if it's just to give them a reason to go on, even if we don't believe it ourselves”

Rick wearily runs a hand over his face, nerves on edge.

This discussion is wearing him down.

He believes in what he says.

He truly believes there is still hope.

And I believe it too.

“You know what?This…this isn't about what we believe anymore.It's about them.It's about Beth.It's about Maggie and Glenn.It's about Summer.It's about my pregnant wife.Now it's only about the people we love, the people we want to protect”

Hersel remains silent, visibly affected by Rick's words.

He stares at us for a few interminable seconds and then after drinking the contents of the glass to the last drop he stands up.

I smile encouragingly in his direction as Rick squeezes his shoulder affectionately.

Suddenly the door behind us creaks and two armed men appear in the doorway.

Damn.

We were so distracted by ourselves that we didn't stay alert enough.

After a quick look inside the two men focus their gaze on me making me shiver.

Glenn notices this and slowly, almost casually, grabs my wrist and moves me behind him.

“Son of bitch.They're alive" one of the two men sneers.

Both seem quite strong and this makes me suspect that they belong to a large and resourceful group.

They're basically a fucking danger.

They approach one of the tables while Glenn and I slowly move behind the counter.

Rick, feigning courtesy, approaches the table, pouring them both a generous dose of the same liquor that Hersel was drinking.

“I’m Dave” one of the two men introduces himself.

He is very tall, with short hair and a look that is too attentive for my tastes.

He is wearing an old pair of dark jeans and his arms are left exposed by a sleeveless t-shirt.

Around his neck he wears a gold chain that clashes terribly with everything else.

His fingers tighten around the butt of his gun.

His dark eyes rest on me again, looking me up and down and then winking in a way that in his fucking mind should be attractive.

I gag mentally.

In response I roll my eyes while Glenn stiffens, moving the rifle in his hands in order to get the guy's attention.

Dave continues with his rant as if nothing had happened.

“That scrawny-looking douche bag there is Tony”

Tony is a man with a stocky build, the t-shirt he wears pulls over his prominent abdomen.

“Eat me, Dave” Tony laughs, a loud, disgusting laugh.

“Hey, maybe someday I will” replies his friend, grabbing the glass and drinking, his eyes close as if he were tasting a fine liqueur and not a third-rate alcoholic drink in a worn-out bar.

I look around noticing the tight smiles on my friends' faces.

We have to find a way to get out of here without these bastards following us.

And even though none of us are visibly interested in the two of them, Dave continues to tell his story.

“We Met on I-95 coming out of Philly.Damn shit-show that was” Dave chuckles and then he goes back to staring at me intently.

From behind the counter Glenn grabs my hand and squeezes it forcefully, a clear signal to tell me to stay calm and play along.

Glenn laughs, thus diverting attention from me.

“I'm Glenn.It's nice to meet some new people”

“Rick Grimes.This is Hersel” Rick murmurs, passing a glass to Tony.

For a few moments a strange silence fills the air and then Dave's eyes are on me again, specifically on my boobs.

The man licks his lips, adjusting the crotch of his trousers in an absolutely disgusting way.

“How about you, sugar.Do you have a name?"

Tempted to respond with my innate sarcasm, I bite my tongue and count to ten.

With my face devoid of any emotion I force myself to speak but before I can do that Rick precedes me.

“She's my sister, she's got a name.And she's got a pretty rough husband.A man with a little problem of self-control, try to stay in yours, okay?”

This time the kindness is completely gone as he slowly hisses the words.

I shrug in response as Dave returns his gaze to me as he drinks the entire contents of his glass.

Him and Rick exchange a strange look, full of tension, then the man holds out his gun towards Rick.

“Not bad, huh?I got it off a cop”

“I’m a cop”

“This one was already dead” the man justifies himself even if I have the clear impression that this isn't true.

Then silence falls again.

The air around us crackles with a strange electricity, just like when the sky fills with clouds waiting for the storm that will sweep everything away.

Rick pours himself a glass of liquor too, displaying the right amount of nonchalance.

“You fellas are a long way from Philadelphia” he murmurs with his lips touching the edge of the glass.

His Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows.

“It’s feels like we’re a long way from anywhere” replies Dave.

Apparently he is the brains of the group.

His friend, Tony, simply nods and looks furtively around.

“Well, what drove you south?” Rick asks politely.

My foot begins tapping nervously on the floor as anxiety rises up my stomach.

We have to get out of here.

Glenn, noticing my nervousness, places a hand on my back, caressing it with small circular movements.

“Well, I can tell you it wasn't the weather.I must've dropped thirty pounds in sweat alone down here”

“I wish” Tony chuckles but his friend goes on ignoring him, as if he hadn't even opened his mouth.

“First It was D.C., I heard there might be some kind of refugee camp, but the roads were so jammed, we never got close.We decided to get off the highways, into the sticks, jeep hauling ass.Every group we came across had a new rumor about a way out of this thing”

Well apparently they're not doing well out there.

Right now the farm is the only safe place and we need to make sure it stays that way.

“One guy told us there was the Coast Guard sitting in the Gulf, sending ferries to the islands” adds Tony nodding absently.

“The latest was a rail yard in Montgomery running trains to the middle of the country…Kansans, Nebraska”

“Nebraska?” Glenn asks genuinely confused.

Tony nods.

“Low population, lots of fun” he adds with a wink.

“Kinda makes sense” Glenn replies.

“Ever been to Nebraska, sugar?”

I sigh in frustration, pinching the bridge of my nose between two fingers.

I'm starting to lose my patience.

“Summer.My name is Summer, no sugar.Summer” I hiss, immediately adding “Anyway, no, never been to Nebraska”

“I like you, Summer” he replies languidly and then adds “Anyway there's a reason why they call 'em flyover states.So...how about you guys?”

“Fort Benning, eventually” Rick replies indifferently even if knowing him what he passes off as indifference is nothing more than a warning.

Smart move.

Well done Rick.

Tony and Dave exchange a look followed by a chuckle.

“I hate to piss in your cornflakes, officer, but, um…we ran across a grunt who was stationed at Benning.He said the place was overrun by lamebrains” adds the latter.

Glenn and I exchange worried looks.

This means that things outside are worse than we thought.

But we can't worry about that now, our problem now is these two idiots.

“Wait, Fort Benning is gone?Shit.What will we do now, big brother?” I ask in a worried tone, turning to Rick and hoping to sound convincing enough even if my anxiety isn't entirely fake.

If Hersel is still convinced of the idea of sending us away we will be in shit.

The real shit.

Rick gives me a reassuring look.

“Sadly, I am.Oddly, the truth is there is no way out of this mess.Just keep going from one pipe dream to the next, praying one of these mindless freaks doesn't grab a hold of you when you sleep”

For a moment Dave's words seem to weigh on all of us.

Even on him.

Tony gets up approaching the counter and turning his back to us we can hear the sound of a zip followed immediately by a loud noise.

Tony is practically pissing two steps away from us regardless of anything.

Disgusting bastard.

Dave settles into the chair, spreading his legs and clicking his fingers on his gun resting on the table.

“So what…so what, you guys set up on the outskirts or something?” he asks almost with disinterest.

Jackpot, jerk.

One corner of my lips lifts.

It was more than obvious from the first moment that these two are trying to get to this point.

Instinctively I tighten my fingers around the butt of the gun I have in my jeans pocket.

I have a sixth sense that this isn't going to end well.

“That new development?Trailer park or something?A farm?” adds Tony still busy with his personal business.

We all exchange a warning look as if to imply that whatever happens we must keep our mouths shut.

The heavy silence seems to capture Dave's attention.

“You got a farm?” he asks, exchanging a long look with Rick who, without betraying any emotion, remains silent.

“Is it safe?You got food, water?” he insists with a sly look.

His dark eyes move over each of us, perhaps looking for the weakest of us from whom he can extort the much sought-after information but he is interrupted by his friend who, lifting his zip, turns towards us and exclaims “You got cooze?Ain't had a piece of ass in weeks.Excluding yours, sweetheart”

The man finishes the sentence by winking at me.

I return his gaze, filling my own with obvious disgust.

Dave scolds him with a look, a silent warning not to screw this up, and then he raises his hands in front of him with palms facing me as if he's apologizing.

“Listen, sorry my friend.City kids…they got no tact.No disrespect.So...listen, Glenn...”

Now at the limit of my patience, I come out from behind the counter, ignoring the warning glances from my friend and positioning myself next to Rick.

“We've said enough.Rick maybe it's best to leave” I say with firmness in my voice.

Rick nods slightly.

Good.

Now we have to make sure they don't follow us.

Dave stands up.

“Wait, hang on a sec.This farm…it sounds pretty sweet.How about a little southern hospitality.We got some buddies back at camp, been having a real hard time.I don't see why you can't make room for a few more.We can pool our resources, our manpower”

Rick shakes his head but before he can speak I anticipate him.

“Look, we're sorry.That's not an option”

Dave and Tony exchange a brief but significant look.

My words definitely pissed them off.

Dave puts the gun in the back pocket of his filthy jeans and then smiles at us.

“I don't see the problem” he adds, trying to convince us.

They don't know that they are playing with the wrong people.

I know this type of men, the sanctuary was full of them.

They will have no scruples.

I know how they think.

“Sorry, we can't help you” Rick's words are calm but peremptory.

There is no fucking way for what they think to happen.

“I thought, ya know…I thought we were friends.We got people we gotta look out for too”

Rick shrugs at Dave's words.

“We don't know anything about you” Rick explains simply as if this were enough to make them understand the reasons for our refusal.

Dave shakes his head and sighs.

“That's true.You don't know anything about us.You don't know we've had to go through out there, the things we've had to do”

“We too did things that had to be done, even if we didn't want to” I interrupt him, tired to play fast and loose.

I'm tired now and this makes the tension only increase.

“Oh, I know.I know, sugar.We are all the same.So come on, let's take a nice friendly hayride to this farm and we'll get to know each other”

Fucking prick.

Rick smiles.

And I swear that if I didn't know him I would shiver from head to toe.

That smile of his is dangerous.

“This is bullshit!”

Tony becomes agitated at our side while he places the rifle on his shoulder with one hand.

The man is sweating profusely, a clear sign that he is losing patience and this does not bode well.

And in fact as soon as Rick tells him to calm down the man completely loses his composure and starts screaming.

“Don't tell me to calm down.Don't tell me to calm down.I'll shoot you four assholes in the head and take your damn farm”

“Whoa” I exclaim approaching the man with the gun clutched in my hand.

Rick behind me tries to pull me towards him.

Dave also tries to calm things down by telling everyone to calm down.

I remain still in my place, feet planted firmly on the ground and the gun in front of me.

“Take it easy.Nobody's killing nobody" Dave exclaims, placing a hand on Rick's shoulder and then leaping over the counter.

I don't move an inch, I just lower the barrel of my gun and look behind me where I see Dave placing the gun on the counter and ducking behind it in search of something good to drink, continuing to repeat that no one will die today and that we are friends.

Yeah, kiss my ass moron.

Rick's hand twitches towards his gun.

An imperceptible movement but I can see it.

Without being too dramatic, I turn towards Hersel who, with a small nod of his head, lets me know that he is fine.

Glenn, on the other hand, appears much more agitated.

His haunted gaze moves quickly among everyone present and then settles on mine.

I'm good I mimic with my lips and a bit of tension seems to leave his rigid shoulders.

“You gotta understand” Dave sighs as he pours himself a glass of liquor.

“We can’t stay out there”

“I miss the part where this is our problem” I hiss giving him my full attention.

The man doesn't seem irritated by my words, in fact he smiles.

“Listen man the farm is too crowded as it is.I'm sorry.You'll have to keep looking” Rick tries to mediate, throwing at me a hard gaze, imploring me with his gaze to keep my mouth shut.

Dave nods.

“Keep looking” he murmurs with his lips pressed against the rim of the glass, taking a moment to swallow the amber liquid.

“Where do you suggest we do that” he finally replies, placing the glass in front of him.

“I hear Nebraska's nice” I respond immediately with a toothy smile.

Dave laughs in response, throwing his head back.

“Nebraska.You're so feral, I like you” he chuckles and in the blink of an eye he grabs his gun but Rick is much faster than him exploding a shot straight at the man's head.

Without thinking twice I turn my back on Rick, leaning it against his and without even aiming I fire two shots at Tony's chest.

The man doesn't even have time to react, his awkward movements in grabbing the rifle to try to defend himself were fatal.

The shots ring out like rolls of thunder within the walls of the bar.

The man's enormous body collapses to the ground while two patches of crimson red spread across his white t-shirt, adding to the dirt that adorned it.

With an empty head I let my arms fall lifeless to my sides, the gun slipping from my fingers and falling to the wooden floor with a dull thud.

I watch as if hypnotized as the blood spreads.

It's the first time I've killed another human being.

I shot my mom but she was already dead...

My hands are shaking wildly and I ball them into fists trying to keep them at bay.

When I was at the sanctuary I never had to kill anyone.

He never allowed it.

For him I had to remain clean from this point of view for as long as possible.

He never wanted me to stain my soul with one of the most atrocious acts in the world, that is, taking the life of another human being.

When I ran away, on my long journey, I was lucky enough to meet few people and I always managed to avoid them without being discovered.

But now I had to do it.

I had to.

I couldn't let anything happen to my friends.

In the fog of my thoughts I can hear the sound of Rick's boots coming alongside me.

Then another shot.

And now Tony's face is also covered in blood.

I killed a human being.

“Summer?Summer, are you okay?”

Rick's warm, reassuring fingers touch my cheek and when I force my gaze to move from the lifeless body in front of me to him I don't know what he's reading because a moment later his arms are wrapped around my shoulders.

I can feel the sound of his voice through his large chest.

“It's okay” he whispers gently without loosening his grip on me.

I feel lost.

It's as if I wanted to cry but I no longer had a soul in my body.

I killed a human being.

A living person.

I weakly push my hands against Rick's chest.

His blue eyes observe me, a wrinkle of concern furrows his face.

For a moment I see Tony's corpse in front of my eyes and a wave of nausea overwhelms me, forcing me to close them.

Stunned, I tighten my fingers around Rick's shirt.

Other steps reach us and now Glenn is also at my side, I avoid his gaze as I delicately move away from his light touch.

I feel dirty and I don't want him to get dirty by touching me.

His soul is still pure...

Mine...

I feel like I lost mine the moment I pulled the trigger.

“I…” I croak, not recognizing my own voice.

“Rick…I…”

The worried look of my close friend softens and the worry wrinkle between his eyes smoothes out.

“Is your first time?”

I nod with a shy nod, lowering my eyes to my hands that are crushing the faded cotton of his shirt.

Rick's lips rest delicately on my forehead.

I'm still waiting for the tears but they don't come.

I want to cry, wash away my sins with my tears but they just don't come.

No matter how hard I try my eyes remain empty and dry.

It's as if my own body is punishing me for my reprehensible actions.

You killed another living being, you deserve to suffer by keeping it all inside.

Moving away from everyone, I head towards the door, deliberately ignoring the blood of the man lying at my feet which slowly spreads across the floor in a large dark and dense puddle.

I reach the door observing the outside.

In addition to our car there is another, certainly the car of the two unfortunate people who are now lying lifeless on the floor.

The devastating silence roars loudly in my ears until the vet's voice snaps me out of my horrible thoughts.

“Let's head back”

And although until a few minutes ago I wanted nothing more than to go back to Daryl more than anything in the world, now the very idea terrifies me.

How will I be able to look him in the eyes?

How will he still see me as the wonderful person he saw in me until this morning?

I feel like I should stay here.

My place is here in the midst of death, the same death I feel in my heart.

Behind me I hear my friends' footsteps approaching but before they can do anything else I see lights across the street.

A car.

“Car.Car!Get down” I exclaim lowering myself while the others imitate my same gesture.

After a few moments the car stops and parks right in front of the bar.

The sound of the doors opening is followed by the sound of footsteps.

“Dave?Tony?”

Shit!

Someone came looking for those two bastards.

They were right after all, they were not alone.

“I'm telling you.I heard shots”

“I saw roamers two streets over”

From the voices it seems to understand that there are three of them.

Damn.

I exchange a quick glance with Rick and Glenn, both of whom are on the opposite side of the door while Hersel next to me squeezes my shoulder with his fingers.

The three men talk to each other trying to find out the whereabouts of their friends.

We clearly hear their footsteps along the sidewalk as they argue with each other, ordering each other to be quiet and continue searching.

Rick gets up peering from behind the curtain then, remaining crouched, we approach each other.

“Why won't they leave?” Glenn asks in an agitated tone.

For the first time I look him in the eyes again.

“Would you?” I ask him.

And even if my friend doesn't answer me I know what he's thinking because it's the same thing we all have.

None of us would ever leave the others.

“We have to leave, we can't stay.They will find us.Let's head out the back and make a run to the car”

Nodding we try to move but sudden shots stop our every movement.

“What happened?” asks one of the strangers outside.

The answer doesn't take long to arrive.

Walkers.

Shit.

The situation seems to get worse moment by moment.

The men outside continue to argue until they come to the conclusion that their friends will definitely be in the bar and so a moment later their footsteps inexorably get closer.

Rick and I immediately point the gun at the door and when it opens Glenn rushes towards it, closing it, pressing his back against it.

Now they know we're here.

“Yo, is someone in there?Yo, if someone in there, we don't want no trouble.We’re just looking for our friends”

I shake my head vigorously at Rick.

We must remain silent and wait for them to go away.

If we engage in any kind of discussion with these people we already know how it will end.

And even if my hand trembles I already know that I will do what I have to do if necessary.

“We don't want no trouble.We're just looking for our friends.If something happened tell us.This place is crawling with corpses.If you can help us not get killed, I'd appreciate it” the man repeats once again.

Rick puts his hand to his forehead, fighting against himself, but in the end I can see the moment he gives in.

And then he speaks.

“They drew on us!” he screams.

The footsteps outside are getting closer again.

“Dave and Tony in there?Are they alive?”

No, they aren't.

Despite the darkness, my eyes immediately find the man lying on the floor.

The man I killed.

I killed a human being.

I close my eyes trying to ignore the turmoil stirring inside me.

I can't distract myself now, not now.

I will have time for this, now I have to focus on the present.

We need to get out of here and possibly do it alive.

“No” Rick replies.

Outside the voices are agitated, talking to each other.

Some want to leave while one of them doesn't.

“They drew on us!They give us no choice!I'm sure we've all lost enough people, done things we wish we didn't have to, but it's like that now.You know that.So let's just chalk this up to what it was.Wrong place, wrong-” Rick shouts again but without being able to finish because a hail of bullets hits us.

The windows above our heads shatter, forcing us to step back.

Rick quickly gets to his feet, shooting through the broken glass and telling us to run away.

I grab Hersel's arm and, remaining crouched, we follow Glenn towards the back.

Hersel and Glenn take cover behind the counter while I get stuck behind a column when a bullet whizzes past my ear, splintering the wall protecting me.

I'm panting heavily as I check the magazine of my gun, I only have four shots left.

The gunfire around us seems to stop so I lean forward trying to figure out where Rick is and if he's okay.

I find him loading his rifle.

“Hey!” he shouts outward.

“We all know this is not gonna end well!There's nothing in it for any of us!You guys just...just back off, no one else gets hurt!”

When no one answers Rick nods at me and I know my time has come.

Without wasting time I rush towards the back door and enter the back of the bar.

The old stairs creak under my boots, making my heartbeat skip a beat.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, I approach the door that would signal our salvation but the silhouette of a man appears from behind the glass and a moment later the door handle moves.

Instinctively I shoot, sending the glass shattering.

Three more bullets.

“Summer!Summer!” my friend's worried voice reaches me from the other side of the room.

Keeping the gun pointed at the door I assure them that I'm fine.

Nothing seems to be moving abroad.

Maybe I scared him and he ran away.

Or maybe you killed him.

You killed another human being.

A noise behind me makes me snap like a spring.

I turn around with the gun drawn in front of me and find Glenn with his hands raised.

Behind him Hersel.

Glenn moves my gun from in front of his face.

I exhale deeply.

“Shit, man.Sorry!Sorry!”

I close my eyes trying to calm down.

My goodness, I could have shot my friends!

“Rick wants me to try for the car”

I shake my head.

No.

I can't let Glenn go out there.

“I'll go” I exclaim, ready to stop any protest from him.

I load my gun, trying to block out the two men's animated protests from my head.

I have three shots, I can do it.

I have to do it.

“Summer!”

“No, Glenn!We will talk about sex discrimination another time.I don't give a shit if you feel like a gentleman right now.You will stay here, protect Rick and Hersel.End of the story”

Before I can open the door I feel someone grab my wrist.

When I look at Glenn's face, his eyes are two hard and unreadable mirrors.

“Don't bullshit.Don't be the hero.You get the car and come back here.If things go to shit, run away.We'll find a way”

“Glenn…”

“Just…Just don't die, okay?”

“I won't” I promise him solemnly, leaving a quick peck on his cheek and disappearing out the door.

Outside at the moment everything seems to be quiet so I cautiously walk along the sidewalk that runs alongside the building but I don't have time to walk even ten steps before a shot rings out behind me.

I take cover against the wall and when I turn around another shot rings out in the air.

Glenn shot my attacker.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as with a shaking hand he lowers the rifle.

The man on the ground scream in pain and if we don't silence him he will immediately attract his friends but I can't stop now so I move forward hiding behind a dumpster.

After a few moments I hear Rick's voice.

“Summer?Are you hurt?”

“No.No.I'm good” I whisper.

The man reaches me crouching next to me.

“It's all right.The car's right there.We're almost home”

“Okay”

My voice is shaking, I try to clear my throat but to no avail.

That ball of anxiety and horror is still there weighing down my chest.

We're almost home.

Yeah.

I want to go home.

I want to see Carol again.

I want to see Daryl again.

Only at the thought of him my tears seem to return.

Because I need him.

Daryl was right.

As long as we are together everything will be fine.

Daryl will help me with my pain, he has already healed my soul once.

I'm sure he will do it again.

And again if I need it.

I just need him now.

I sniffle trying not to make too much noise.

Rick wraps his long fingers around my shoulder squeezing it hard.

“I'll take you home, little sis”

The shadow of an amused smile on his lips.

It's absurd how naturally he passed himself off as my brother to protect me.

“I know, big bro”

The man on the ground continues to scream in pain.

Too loudly.

Too fucking loudly.

“Let's go” he urges me but as soon as we get up other shots reach us forcing us to retrace our steps and hide.

Suddenly a car stops on the other side of the road and the man behind the wheel starts yelling that the place is quickly filling up with walkers and that it's best to go.

I lean forward a little to understand who he is talking to and I notice that on the roof of the building opposite there is a boy with a rifle, he must be just over twenty years old, who, invited by his friends, jumps from the roof and disappears from my sight.

Immediately afterwards an inhuman scream reaches us and the car skids off.

“Get Hersel and Glenn” Rick orders me, running towards the screams.

A group of walkers is approaching so shouting at my friends to follow me we run in the same direction as Rick.

The walkers don't follow us too busy devouring the man Glenn shot.

After a few moments the screaming stops.

Making sure the two men are following me I catch up with Rick.

When I arrived, the scene that appeared before me was terrifying.

The boy has impaled his leg on a metal spike, his screams make me shiver while his desperate crying only attracts other walkers.

“We have to go now!” Hersel shouts.

The boy cries even harder.

“I'm sorry, son.We have to go” Hersel murmurs with a heartbroken look towards the young man.

“No, no, don't leave me, please”

His plea tears my heart apart.

It's not his fault that he ended up in this mess.

Nowadays we are willing to do anything to survive, even joining a violent group.

I know something about it.

And in this moment I understand Rick's hesitation in wanting to help the boy and Hersel's determination in wanting to leave.

I can't choose and I can't take sides.

“We have to go!” Hersel reiterates as Rick shakes his head.

“We can't leave him here” replies the latter.

Glenn fidgets next to me.

“Rick, this guy was shooting at you!”

I am struck by his words.

“Glenn, he's just a boy”

But my friend doesn't even give me an answer.

Nervousness arises around us pitting us against each other.

“This place is crawling with walkers!” Glenn shouts while in the distance we can hear the walkers approaching.

Every minute is precious.

“Hersel, what chance do we have of saving him?” I ask the man, ignoring Glenn's almost betrayed look.

I know he is convinced that we are wasting precious time but too many people died today.

If we even have a chance of saving him we have to try.

“The fence went clean through.There's no way we can get the leg off in one piece.We're not gonna get that leg off without tearing the muscle to shreds.He certainly can't run.He may bleed out”

Shit!

Thing Summer, thing!

Meanwhile, Rick and Glenn tell the boy to be quiet, trying to calm his scream.

Then an idea.

“Hersel, can't we just take the leg off?”

At my question the boy begins to scream even louder.

I approach him pointing my gun at his face.

“Listen man, do you want to live?” I spit the words between my teeth, angrily.

I'm tired and out of control.

The boy is terrified by my crazy expression, so he whimpers and nods weakly.

“So shut the fuck up!Do you understand?”

With my eyes fixed on the boy I try to soften my gaze by trying to be at least a little kinder.

"It will all be fine.We won't leave you here just hang on, alright?”

He nods but his gaze remains haunted as Hersel lists the steps to take to amputate his leg.

The man takes off his shirt, knotting it as if it were a tourniquet around the boy's leg.

Rick joins me, pushing a hand against the boy's chest to force him to lie down.

Around us the grunts are getting closer and closer.

Glenn and I exchange a knowing look, splitting up to cover both sides.

He is the first to shoot and I follow closely but having only three bullets there is very little I can do.

“Rick!We have to move” I shout at him.

“I'm out of ammo.Glenn, how's it going?”

The delivery guy fires a couple more shots.

“I'm almost out of ammo” he replies.

Shit!

“Rick!”

I catch up with him while he and Hersel try to cut off the boy's leg.

“Hersel do it now!” Rick is yelling at him but the man shakes his head in defeat.

“There is no time” the vet replies.

Rick, after shooting a walker behind us, drops his rifle and, grabbing the boy's leg, forcefully removes it from the fence.

After an inhuman scream the boy faints.

Rick and Glenn put him in the car.

Hersel and I sit with him in the back seat periodically making sure he's breathing.

The journey continues in a surreal silence and when we reach the farm it is already morning.

I don't remember much about the return journey, it's as if my mind has turned off, excluding any sound, any word, anything that happened in the previous hours.

I feel numb, in my body and in my mind.

And it is with the same state of mind, with the same numbness, that I watch Rick and the others get out of the car.

The man hugs his son and his wife.

In their hasty and excited gestures I can see all the worry evaporate and be replaced by a love so immense, so tangible that it takes my breath away.

I see Maggie run to the car and throw her arms around Glenn's neck as Hersel instructs Patricia on what he needs and what she needs to prepare.

And I…

I sit next to Randall.

That's his name.

I watch his chest fall and rise slowly as small gasps leave his lips.

I look at my hands, placed in my lap, dirty with his blood.

The voices outside the cockpit are just confused murmurs but among them I can clearly hear heavy footsteps until the door on my side opens.

“Ya good?”

His voice unleashes a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within me.

When his fingers touch my chin I move away, turning my head the other way, focusing my gaze on the boy's mangled leg.

The blood continues to soak Hersel's once white shirt relentlessly.

“Summer?”

My name rolls from his lips wrapped in a spiral of worry but despite this I can't look him in the eyes.

I don't feel like myself and I don't want him to see me that way.

Daryl doesn't push any further, just crouches beside me waiting for me to be ready for him.

From the other side of the car someone approaches to take the boy away.

I don't have the strength to look who they are and after a few minutes they all disappeared inside the big house.

Everyone except me.

And Daryl.

The man doesn't let out a breath, he remains motionless at my side.

After minutes or hours I find the strength to speak again.

“You should reach the others” I murmur, lost of any emotion, of any feeling.

The words come out in such a soft whisper that I'm afraid he didn't hear me.

But I know that's not true.

The archer remains motionless at my side.

Not a breath, not a word.

I feel his eyes boring a hole into my face, even though I can't see him I feel his eyes on me.

I peek in his direction and it's just as I imagined.

His beautiful blue eyes are there, intently staring at me.

In his face there is not even a shadow of what I had imagined.

There is no anger, no disgust, oh no...in his eyes there is only so much concern but also so much relief at me coming back.

Come back to him.

And all this kills me.

I would have preferred for him to yell at me, for him to scold me for my recklessness, for disappearing without telling him anything.

I would have accepted anything but this.

Not this.

I feel like I don't deserve his gentle soul.

I look back at my hands, Randall's blood coagulated between my fingers.

The same fingers that pulled that trigger.

The same fingers that marked the end of a life.

I killed a human being.

With a sudden movement of my arm I push Daryl angrily, forcing him to stand up and make room for me while I get out of the car.

Shocked and without a specific destination, I walk away from the car and head towards the opposite side of the house.

The hill that leads towards the trees at the edge of the property extends in front of my eyes and so without having really decided my feet take me in that direction.

“Summer!” the archer grunts trying to reach me.

I snort, speeding up my pace.

Why can't he understand that I want to be alone?

His large hand grabs my wrist, forcing me to stop.

He stays behind me, granting me at least this.

I don't want to see his eyes and he understood this.

“Wha’ happened?”

“You should reach the others, Daryl”

My voice cracks as I say his name.

The same name that until a few minutes ago kept me away from my own demons now seems to push me further and further towards an abyss from which I can't see a way out.

“Wha’ happened, my sunshine?”

My heart skips a beat.

My sunshine.

He thinks about me as his.

And I want to be his.

But…but I feel so dirty…

I killed a human being.

“Wha’ happened?” he repeats but this time letting all his desperation towards my stubborn silence shine through his words.

What happened...

Happened that I love you and I feel like I don't deserve you.

Here's what happens.

But I will never tell him this.

Never.

Daryl Dixon is all I have and I will always protect him.

Even if it is from myself that I will have to protect him.

“Mind your fucking business, Dixon” I hiss angrily, yanking my hand from his grasp.

Daryl lets me go like he's burned himself and when I start to walk away I don't hear his footsteps following me.

I don't have the courage to turn around.

Because even though this is what I want, I can't handle the pain in his eyes.

I'm a monster.

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