#unless ofc i somehow get back into stranger things

[donutcats]

thinking about that one stranger things slasher summer camp au I never finished…. it could’ve been so good…. it had steddie and ronance and characters I disliked dying…. even characters I liked dying… it could’ve been great. but now it will always stay a wip

#personal crap #unless ofc i somehow get back into stranger things #but nothing will be my brief obsession of summer ‘22 #it really was going to be good I wrote so many parts I was proud of…

[briarrosescurse]

🔪👑🎵🔫💧💙🌪🌠 I NEED ITFOR MY XIANG AND ROZA COLLECTION NAOWWWW

OH MY GOD HI YES OFC??? 🥺🥺🥺 LETS ROLL VYVY

🔪 KNIFE - how do they react to injury / misfortune befalling their loved ones (significant other, family, friends)? do they put themselves at blame?

roza would feel devastated if any of her loved one suffering from injury or misfortune. especially if she is to blame, too. although, she wouldn't let herself wallow in guilt and instead take it upon herself to fix the situation in any way she possibly can. she might even go overboard and it gets obvious she is trying to compensate for the heavy guilt that is weighing her down. still, her intentions are of upmost kindness.

xiang, on the other hand, hardly feels rattled by such things. he knows that one way or another, especially depending on what you're up to (and in his case, fighting and using deathly weapons), it is inevitable. he doesn't go out of his way to particularly blame himself, though he would admit it if he did mess up somehow. still, he remains for the most part unfazed; not entirely heartless, but as always, it's no use to cry over spilled milk.

👑 CROWN - what does your oc want to be remembered as? why?

of course roza wants to be remembered! don't we all? she doesn't feel urged to be remembered by the entire world for some legacy or anything, but she does want to be remembered by the people she treasures the most. she wants to be remembered for her efforts! for her love of a world that is like a stranger to her! just simply, roza. that's all she needs.

contrary to what most people might assume of xiang, he doesn't feel urged to be remembered greatly. or even in any detail, that is. truthfully, what even is there to remember of him? his promiscuous little adventures? his wits and skills? it's fine for him to be simply remembered as a cool guy. there's no gain in lingering in the past.

🎵 MUSIC NOTE - what is their playlist like? their favourite artists? do you associate a particular song with them?

only recently has roza's playlist shifted into something more typically modern and pop-related genre. before that though, she often listened to differing pieces of the classical genre...? listen, i doubt she really had often, if any at all, internet access, so... nonetheless! a song i associate with roza is yume miteta no atashi by daoko. the soft, dreamy tunes, along with the light voice and all the emotions - not to mention the lyrics - it all really, really suits roza!

honestly, xiang puts anything in his playlist that gets the mood going; be it typical party music or anything hype to get your gears going. i'd like to think he specifically enjoys curating workout playlists to have a beat to go along with. a song i associate with xiang is actually oops! by yung gravy. but if you're looking for something more emotionally charged, then it'd be all for us by labyrinth.

🔫 PISTOL - do they trust people easily? how easily will they turn their back to someone? have they been backstabbed before? will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?

as naive and clueless roza can be, she doesn't trust as 100% freely as assumed; only if her mistrust in you is warranted, she believes that your actions are done in good faith. she refuses to turn her back on anyone unless there's nothing else left to do and it only seems to be the viable option. it's hard to reason with her in that sense, sometimes, because despite all, her idealistic hopes win and she wants to firmly believe that no one is really so through and through evil and ill-spirited. she hasn't been backstabbed in that regard ever before, really, but it's not uncommon for people to play with her naivety and trick her. but most of the time, she tends to see through their actions around the second or third time...

xiang is far from being someone who trusts anyone freely, let alone at full capacity. while he never gives the impression of someone who is very guarded, considering his outgoing nature, he knows how to carefully select his words around certain types of people. sometimes, he of course does slip up, but it doesn't take too much of him to recover. while it usually depends on the person, xiang tends to weigh out his options if it ever comes down to turning his back to someone and leave them to be the one dangling. he thinks rationally, so he does whatever benefits him the most under usual circumstances. his trust is hard to ever be recovered either, once you've betrayed it. he never really experienced any grand betrayal, though.

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

though roza herself never really addresses it (unless asked), she is fully aware of her potentially shortened lifespan. in fact, she gave it a lot of thought, especially during her isolation. she doesn't really mope about it by any means, though it does add a certain, unconscious stress factor; any signs of particularly strong fatigue for example get ignored, because she doesn't really desire to deal with it at all times. she just wants to live in the moment, for once, without being reminded of her circumstances. deeming it as a waste of time, roza refuses to fret too hard over it; but it's hard to ignore the sinking feeling of discomfort of any 'casual' reminder.

xiang's relationship with his family is in reality rather strained, despite the absence of his father, who used to be one of the biggest, if not the defining reason, why xiang had a troubled homelife. even though he deeply cares for his mother, she disapproved of xiang's recklessness and at times, scolds him harshly for his behavior. to xiang, it does feel as if she hadn't ever acknowledged the trouble his father had put them through. to this day, xiang and his mother never addressed it. similarly, xiang gains a lot of disapproval from his older brother as well. they're simply rather conflicting personalities, who tend to clash regularly. both of them find it rather troubling to find heart to heart with each other. xiang really doubts that the relationship to his family will ever significantly improve - and honestly? he kind of gave up on it, anyways.

💙 BLUE HEART - do they miss their s/o easily? how do they act when their s/o isn't around?

there isn't an hour that goes by where roza doesn't whine about how much she wants to see her s/o. while small distances are no trouble to her, she does seem rather huffy and puffy if she doesn't get to see them for several days for whatever reasons. she'll try her best to contact them as often as possible, even texting them about the most mudane and simple things. she doesn't change much without her s/o around, but she does seem to sigh a little more often than usual.

xiang doesn't really bother and feel bothered, really. he doesn't enjoy dwelling too hard on the absence of his s/o, so he finds other means to entertain himself. of course, it'd be even greater if his s/o were by his side, but he'd hate to mope about it. makes him feel so ridiculous. so basically, you're really not getting that much of a grand reaction out of this guy.

🌪️ TORNADO - what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?

for roza: i changed her from a self-insert to a regular oc! it definitely improved her writing by a margin as i tried things out i wouldn't have by keeping her as a self-insert! she developed into a fun direction, as a result.

for xiang: i think... it's the way his personality got a bit more broader and fleshed out? he's definitely more of a greater genius than first intended + i added some kind of vulnerabilities to xiang which he deep down has but ultimately, chooses to deal with in his own way. so basically, a lot more fleshed out! but also now less of a twink LMAO

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

the curse would be non-existent, 100%. roza wouldn't want or need anything else in the world. she'd just like for herself as well as for her family to have some form of peace at least. but she also wouldn't mind a cotton candy paradise. and world peace. world peace achieved through cotton candy paradise.

though for xiang, i think he doesn't have any particular wish? i feel like that if anything, he'd wish for a good amount of cash, but other then that? whatever would be of most convenience right now. it could even be just some new sneakers. a cat toy for dàn. some cut up fruit. would it be a waste? maybe. but it would be moreso a waste to wish for nothing.

#HI THIS GOT LONG BUT I HOPE IT WORKS #twst oc #[my writing] #rozalina von dorimé #yu xiang #oc emoji asks

[okay-j-hannah]

Hii hannah!! It's me, the mysterious anon and I'm officially done with not just my exams but highschool! I got my results back few days ago and im surprised i almost got all As because during the last three exams I was literally reading will turner and lotr fanfictions more than my textbooks lmao 😭

And can I just say you're so so sweet and ilysm !!! tysm for accepting my request, can't wait to see how you are gonna write them! although, do remember to write it with your own pace, you don't have to feel obligated to finish it and post it asap (and this goes to all the requests you've gotten) we know you're a human being too with your own things in your daily life and ofc we acknowledge and respect that, that's the least we can do when you actually take time out of your life and accept to write our requests <333

I know I said it in the last ask I sent you but thank you so so much for accidently introducing me to will turner, remember how I fell down the rabbit hole? it seems i am still falling, but now in another rabbit hole named lord of the rings; yes I joined the lotr fandom! i was lookin for more orlando bloom movies and found out he played legolas and I started the series just for him lol,, really though the lotr universe is so beautiful!! ive always loved fantasy universes but was too lazy to actually start something classic like lotr but now that i've done it im feeling the hyperfixation literally running through my veins!! I ordered silmarillion and im like this close to ordering all the books in Tolkien legendarium even though im nearly broke lmao. and my bi ass is in love with everyone, especially the elves, came just for legolas but staying for all the tolkien elves and faramir, eowyn, sam and aragorn 😭 really though, I have barely read silmarillion yet i am in love with elves like ecthelion and glorfindel too 😭

i can't wait read more of your lotr work, so far, I've only read haldir fic (it was so cute!) and hobbit/doctor who one and im in love with that one!! i spend so much of my time thinking what if I were to accidently end up in my current hyperfixation universe. will I survive actually? Will I even be able to make eye contact with my comfort characters, or speak to them? unless somehow I get some kind of superpowers or immortality, i would likely die in the first fifteen minutes for sure haha. can't wait to read the second part of that story and how doctor fits into the story! Also mgime trope is actually so fun to read! after this one, I went to ao3 for more and im so in love with this trope im thinking about writing one myself! 

Just realising, It's funny thing, joining new fandom tbh ; i remember scrolling through your page in March and i had no idea who any of the lotr characters or potc characters were but now im in love with the lotr&potc universe and its all i can think about. do you mind, if i ask you how do you balance fandoms thing? you're in so many fandoms and i always wonder how you love them/give them time equally even after having so many other fandoms. in recent years I've joined many fandoms but every time I join a new one, i start loving the new one so much i  completely stop even thinking bout the old one. and it's incredibly silly i know but I feel like I'm betraying/cheating my old fandom and my comfort characters in a way by hyperfixating on whatever my current fandom is. 

Speaking of hyperfixations, also so so excited for David tennant in the 60th specials!! And donna n wilf!! I too will have to finish 13's episodes before November though. btw did you see the bts pictures of 15 and the new companion Ruby? It seems like we're gonna get good history episodes with the new doctor !! 

Oh also!! It's been officially a year since I started reading your fics! And today 29 May actually marks the day(technically night ig) I read the last parts of dying girl series. I still remember that day, I had finished watching stranger things' then new episodes, I was already crying because of The max and vecna episode and I decided to torture myself more by reading the series and cried more lmao.

Ahh cant believe its been a year, i remember being anxious to send you my request and all those asks and now I am actually talking to you! I am so glad I decided to check out your blog last May, one of the best decision ive made! If it werent for you, i probably would've never further watched doctor who, or started potc and lotr/hobbit series and just Tolkien's work tbh. Ik I've said it a lot of times but really though, thank you so much for introducing me to all these movies, shows, books and ofc, your writing. I've loved every single second I've spent on your blog and while watching these tv and movie series, idk how to exactly word this because english isn't my first language, but the time spent on your blog and while watching the shows/movies really is best time I've spent in my boring life, I've felt more alive doing that than I actually had while living my "life". 

Oh and I'm glad you had fun writing my domestic fic request! I would also love to read about the reader and doctors' in between adventures, hope you write about it and honestly, I'd love to read whatever you write, even if it isn't full fics, just random stuff like headcanons or draft ideas you had! And I would request bout it but I've already requested two fics and honestly, my brain feels too disconnected from the fic to give you ideas kinda stuff for the fic. I guess, its time to reread the series ; I hope I can get through it this time without crying though 😭

I still haven't finished watching all the potc movies, only two or three because I got into lotr, but more will turner content from you? So excited!! And yeah It is surprising that I haven't watched the movies because they are classic! but they actually came out before I was born/when I was really young so I didn't get to watch them at that time, plus movies, especially from outside my country weren't as accessible so my brain focused on what I had, the barbie and disney movies and tv cartoons.

Sometimes I honestly can't believe that all the movies/TV series I'm hyperfixating over came out so long ago and that I am watching and obsessing over them after like 15-20 years, that really is a lot of time! but tbh, I feel like this is how it was meant to be, yknow? I was meant to love these movies and characters rn, because maybe I needed them now more than I did back then. And as I said, I was barely a kid and didn't even speak English language, even if I did get to watch all the movies I don't think I'd even understand them lol. 

Oh and I too love the pen pal things we have going, it's fun, isn't it? Really sorry for replying months late though, i wanted to write earlier but I have executive dysfunction so it's really hard to do even the simplest of things😭 next time i'll try not to be months late lol.

I just realised I wrote a lot lol, Thank you for reading the whole rambling, I hope the whole thing doesn't seem too diorganised to read . And yeah, Bye! hope you have good day/night or whatever time of the day you're reading this at<333

Hello mysterious anon!

I think our trend will now be just randomly replying to each other every few months because 100% we both have busy lives.

I feel weirdly proud to have instigated some of your new fandom hyperfixations, I am so obsessed with too many. It is really hard to spread all my love/attention to so many.

I think I look at it like phases. I will always return to my old loves, but depending on my mood or phase in life I'm drawn to a certain fandom. I started rewatching Criminal Minds a while ago and got so reinvested in the show that I started writing a series with Spencer Reid {it's like 21k words right now and I haven't decided if I'm posting it or not}

And I started watching The Crown, so I've fully entered another time period phase and I want to watch all things Jane Austen. I read Sense and Sensibility recently because of it. I think I'm going to watch Little House on the Prairie for the time period drama. I might watch Poldark or Outlander or Vikings for the same reason.

I agree it's hard to move on to another fandom when you feel you're neglecting the others. I try to refresh my brain of my old favorites, like I remember the day I mixed up Death Eaters and Dementors and I felt so ashamed that I reread the whole Harry Potter series just to remind myself.

I guess I just do my best to acknowledge all of them and then be patient when I'm fixating on only one in particular. I find a balance when I'm writing fics about them because I'll rewatch something so I can get a feel for the characters before I write about them. But sometimes it is hard to write a request for a character that I am not currently obsessed with.

I'm glad you passed your classes and are hopefully moving on to bigger and better things {I know you are fandom wise}. I haven't been writing much the last year, but I do still check my activity frequently. We'll see what and when I'll decide to post next.

But for now, I wish you luck in life and hopefully the comfort you'll get from your new potc and lotr friends will get you through some of the tough times.

💜 Hannah

#okay j hannah #okayjhannah #fandomfantasia #hannahbeartalks #okayjhannah answer #okayjhannah question #anon ask okay j hannah

[magpie-to-the-morning]

Insatiable - Part Two

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x Frankie Morales x OFC

Word count: 2.5k

Tags: Wolf shifter AU, Supernatural AU, Slow burn, Mating bond, Canon typical sex and violence, Attempted kidnapping, Blood, Injury, Hurt/comfort, Eventual smut

Summary: You’ve travelled the world looking for home, but what if it finds you?

Author’s Note: I promised more would be here soon. 😘 Thank you @acrossthesestars​ for the very necessary edits!

Missed part one? You can read it here. 

Moodboard by @acrossthesestars

“Looks like a mild concussion so you’ll need to take it easy for a few days. Ever had a migraine? Treat it like that.”

You nod, though the doctor’s words weave in and out of your still blurry focus. You’ve been conscious for a while, more or less - aware of the bright fluorescent lights, worn turquoise pleather, and tired white walls of the clinic, all bathed in that sickly, intense glow most medical centers seem to share. 

Grasping onto a single coherent thought with relief and a renewed sense of your own capabilities you ask “Can I sleep when I get home?”

The doctor (or nurse? You’re not quite sure) frowns. “I’m not comfortable releasing you on your own. Unless one of your friends is going home with you…?”

Her question startles you and it’s only now that you realize there are two men standing behind you, both vaguely familiar though otherwise strangers. They’re of age, dark haired and dark eyed with varying shades of light brown skin and you can’t help but pick up on a current running between them, a sense of kinship that makes you wonder if they might be related. But no, that’s not it. Looking closer, you can see the features that set them apart. 

The man closer to you is slightly shorter, his upright bearing and watchful eyes commanding. Standing straight in dark jeans and a black t-shirt that set off his compact, muscular frame, there’s something about him that gives off an air of quiet, steady competence. He’s not someone you’d want to mess with but he also seems… approachable, his quick eyes and generous mouth hinting at good humored intelligence.

His partner is taller, rangier. His shaggy brown hair is a little untidy and his facial hair is slightly patchy. He looks a bit softer around the edges, though no less capable than his friend. He’s not missing a beat either but he stands slightly to the side, his arms folded, looking somehow less at ease. 

Your gaze meets his and you feel a jolt, placing that concerned look. He’s the man who’d knelt to check on you while his partner ran to-

“Is she ok? The girl, I mean.” Your pulse kicks up, adrenaline surging through you once more as memories of the past hour come flooding back.

“She’s fine,” the taller man reassures you. “Found a cousin in the crowd- she said thank you, by the way.” His voice is soft and he moves to stand a bit closer, uncrossing his arms and jerking his chin towards his companion. “Santi got the guy to the authorities, you don’t need to worry about him, either.”

“Santi” shoots a look at his friend and mutters something you can’t catch about names.

“As I was saying,” the clinician says with a pointed look at her clipboard. You jerk back towards her with a guilty start, realizing she must have other patients to attend to.

“Right, sorry. So about going home?”

A sigh. 

“Do you have someone who can look after you?”

In your cheap vacation apartment in a city thousands of miles from anyone you know? You force your features into neutrality and away from the ironic eyebrow raise you can feel tugging at your stitches.

Stitches? Shit, another thing to think more about later.

Before either of the guys at your back can open their mouths to say they’ve never seen you before tonight and blow your cover, you nod. 

“Yup, my friends here can take me back to my place.” You cut them a significant glance, hoping they’ll play along. Your body is aching with bruises you know will flower overnight and you want nothing more than to go back to your own place and crawl into bed with a few bags of ice. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, we can do that.” The taller man shifts from one foot to another, pointedly not checking in with his partner, who rolls his eyes skyward. This time, you catch something about “picking up strays.” 

Pasting on a bright smile, you turn back to the clinician. “Great, that’s all sorted, then. Thanks for the patch up, I’ll be out of your hair now.”

Sent on your way with a few more instructions and a follow-up appointment, you make for the exit before anyone can change their mind.

Rushing out into the cool dark you breathe in, out, letting the fresh night air fill your lungs and carry away some of the tension still lingering in your body. Everything has happened so quickly and while you wait for the guys to catch up, you take stock.

Your head feels like it’s about to split open, though that’s not much worse than the headaches you sometimes get. Gingerly, you run a finger over the numb tightness above your eye. There’s a pad of gauze there, covering the stitches you’d guessed at earlier. One of the kicks must have split your brow, you realize with a wince. You have a few other minor hurts and abrasions but all things considered, you got off pretty lightly.

“Thank you,” you say when Santi and his partner reach you on the pavement outside the clinic. “For playing along back there and, well, you know. You’re off the hook though, I can get back to my place just fine.” 

“You sure that’s the best idea?” Santi reaches out to take your arm- pulling back when he sees you tense up. “Easy, I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice is a little deeper than his friend’s, though you wonder if he’s pitched it that way to lend weight to his promise. He looks you over and you wince, knowing you’re not exactly the picture of world-traveling independence you normally present. Clearly coming to some decision, he continues “Let us walk you back to your place, at least. You really shouldn’t be on your own right now.”

“I can take care of myself,” you shoot back quickly, defensive and less convincing than you’d like. 

He cocks an eyebrow, a smile tugging at his lips that puts your back up but it’s his friend who answers first.

“Would it make you feel better if we showed you some IDs?”

Santi groans. “Fish-“

“What? We’re strangers- she’s just being cautious.”

“She,” you butt in with a significant glare at both of them, “is tired and just wants to go back to her place after a seriously weird day. But yeah, that’s not a bad idea, all things considered.” 

The three of you swap proper introductions at last, and the guys show you their IDs- Santi with a little more reluctance, though you don’t really blame him. His partner hands his over easily after thumbing it free from a well-worn wallet and when you see the name on his license, you tilt your head playfully.

“Francisco, huh? I was just starting to get used to Fish.”

He chuckles a little shyly, dodging a pointed look from Santi as he slips the card back into place. “It’s sort of a nickname, but you can call me Frankie, if you want. So what are you doing in Cartago, anyway?”

You let the quick, evasive change in subject slide. You’re not one for getting too personal too quickly either, so you share the pared down version of your own bio as the three of you head for your apartment.

“I’m a travel writer. Well, blogger technically. I started off this trip in San José but I wanted to see more of the country than just the capital, you know?”

You share a few anecdotes of your recent travels to pass the time, working in a few subtle questions about their own presence in Costa Rica. Judging by their accents, they’re Americans like yourself, at least some of the time, though all they’ll say is that they’re on vacation after a nearby job. They do open up a bit more after a couple blocks, trading a few of their own lighthearted travel stories along with some recommendations for local spots to check out, some of which you hadn’t heard of yet and note in your phone for another day.

By the time you reach your door, you’re feeling more at ease with Frankie and Santi, finding them surprisingly easy to talk to. As much as you love your job and the lifestyle that comes with it, getting to know some new people is… kind of nice, actually. 

Reaching the steps to your building along with a decision you hope isn’t entirely driven by your recent head trauma, you turn to them and ask “You guys want a drink or anything?” 

After having one of those silent conversations that only people who’ve known each for ages seem capable of, they nod and follow you up the stairs. You wonder again at the nature of their relationship. Are they friends? Lovers? There’s some undeniable bond between them that’s obvious even to an outsider and it tugs at you. What would it be like to know someone that deeply? That well?

You banish the thought as you fit your key into the lock of your rented apartment, it’s temporary nature reminding you that any connection you make is sure to be fleeting at best and shallow at worst. Most of the time, you don’t mind it, not really. It comes with the territory. Tonight though, part of you longs for something to cling to, to shelter in when you feel as vulnerable as you do after the day’s events.

The overhead light you switch on by recent habit is far from forgiving and you squeeze your eyes shut to ward against its harsh glare, waving a vague hand towards the kitchenette. “I don’t have much here, sorry, but there’s fruit juice and beer in the fridge.” 

“I’ll get it.” Santi vanishes into the kitchenette and you can hear him rattling through the fridge and cupboards. By this point his distant grumbling (likely directed at your near total lack of food, beverage, cup and utensil offerings) is almost reassuringly familIar.

Frankie follows you to the threadbare couch, hovering at your elbow in case you prove unsteady on your feet and you realize he’s kept close the whole way back, likely for the same reason. It’s sweet, if a little old-fashioned. 

Santi joins you as you’re lowering yourself onto the worn couch cushions, wordlessly placing a large glass of iced mango juice, already sweating in the closed up room’s stifling heat, and a bowl of crackers in front of you. Frankie moves to open the shutters, letting the night breeze waft in over a rickety balcony, and swaps the glaring, artificial light for the soft glow of the moon and the city lights while Santi ducks back into the kitchen, returning with a pair of beers for himself and his partner. It’s smooth, co-ordinated, and while ordinarily you’d bristle at strangers moving so confidently through your space, they manage it without being overbearing or condescending, their easy motions and casual care seeming natural, effortless, rather than forced.

It also gives you another moment to yourself to take a breath. You tip your head back against the couch while they talk amongst themselves for a moment. You lose track of time and the next thing you know, Frankie is laying a tentative hand on your shoulder. 

“I don’t think you should sleep just yet,” he tells you, almost apologetically. 

“Right. Concussion,” you say, as if you need the reminder. You look around the apartment, searching for something, anything, to keep you busy. By some miracle, there’s a dusty stack of board games tucked into the bottom of one shelf that you hadn’t noticed before, left behind by forgetful guests or a thoughtful host. 

“Who’s up for a game?”

The three of you settle on Trivial Pursuit after rejecting Uno for being too cutthroat and Monopoly for being too dull. It turns out to be a great choice, allowing you to unwind and laugh over bits of half forgotten knowledge. You discover that the three of you are evenly matched when it comes to geography, though the guys have you beat on any sport other than hockey. You trounce them in entertainment and literature, though Frankie is a dark horse when it comes to films, and Santi’s knowledge of music rivals your own. 

The sounds of the city waft through the open window, distant car horns and music a soothing backdrop to your game. As the moon rises, you settle into an easy groove of bantering and teasing, until even Santi is trading barbs and laughing at your jokes. Your glass never runs empty and when you groan about a third refill, they just remind you of your orders to hydrate. 

Once the game is over, you’d won, but barely, your eyes start to drift closed once more. You lean against Frankie, sitting on the couch beside you while Santi looks on from a nearby chair. He rouses you gently once more and, noting the pained expression on your face, asks if you have any painkillers he can get for you. 

“I ran out the other day,” you mumble, exhaustion weighing heavier on you. “Migraine.”

“I’ll go out and get some.” Santi heads for the door before you can tell him that he’s already done enough, both of them have. 

Frankie sits stock still, your head on his shoulder, as though afraid any movement will startle you. When a lock of your hair falls against your tired face, he tucks it gently behind your ear. “Keep talking, ok? It’ll keep you awake. How did you get into travel writing? Did you always want to see the world?” 

Fighting to keep your eyes open, you give him the sketched out version of your life: foster homes and bookworm binges, using stories as a way to escape- especially ones that took you far, far away. Maybe it’s the late hour, or the way your head is pounding, but your usual defenses are down, and you tell him about wanting more than the world you knew, to make a name for yourself, to blaze your own trail. He’s a good listener, quiet but interested, asking questions whenever you start to doze off. 

Eventually though, you can’t hold out anymore, too exhausted to stay awake any longer. It’s probably fine, you reason with the last bit of conscious thought you can muster. The doctor wouldn’t have let you leave if you were in any real danger, and they hadn’t actually said anything about not sleeping.

Before sleep pulls you under, your body softens against Frankie’s, and you mumble a sleepy “thanks for taking care of me” that he has to lean closer to make out. If he replies, you don’t register it, already slipping into a soft, welcoming darkness. 

____

When you wake in the morning, you’re laid on top of your bed in the next room, the covers folded over you and a bottle of water on the nearby nightstand. You fumble for it in the gray dawn, sunlight just beginning to filter through pulled shades. There’s a bottle of painkillers next to it and a note reading simply “Cuidate. Take care of yourself.”

They’ve both signed it, though there’s a postscript crammed into one corner that you have to turn the note to read. 

“Restocked your fridge. -S.”

You turn the note over, hoping for a phone number, an email address, any way to get in contact with them- if only to thank them properly. 

It’s blank. 

Next

#Santiago Garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #Frankie Morales x F!reader #Frankie Morales x Reader #Frankie Morales x You #Fic #My fic #Insatiable

[katierosefun]

hey cron! hope school is treating you nicely <3

for autumn asks (if they haven't been asked yet): amber, and maize please!! :D

hi nessa! i hope the same of you! thanks for the ask! // from these asks

amber - share an unpopular opinion that you may have.

hm...idk how unpopular this is, but i think fic writers should purposely write fic for fandoms that are dead or literally have only a handful of readers. builds character! also, it helps you readjust/recalibrate into remembering why you like writing fic. do it, coward. write a fic for a show where there's literally two other readers. write a fic for a fandom that's gone dead for like 4 years now. do it, even if it gets like 12 hits.

maize - share the weirdest encounter you’ve had with a stranger on the street.

oh...i wouldn't say this is weird, but my last encounter with a stranger on the street was actually kind of surreal but also very nice, so i have to share it--but i was waiting for the bus, and there was this old guy sitting a little ways down for me on the bench. here i am, just trying to cram in my groceries into my backpack, and then this guy offers to help. i politely decline, but we get chatting anyways--and somehow, the conversation shifts over to him asking me what's on my hand ("do you forget things easily?").

so like, i've gotten into this habit of writing things on my hand now--not to-do lists or anything, but just simple phrases. they're usually in korean because lollll i don't expect people to understand the writing unless they're korean themselves. but anyways, i had written something in korean on my hand that morning, and ofc i brace myself because what if this dude is a creep, but then i tell him what it means anyways, and it was the most awkward thing ever, because looking back, i really should have just made something up on the spot--but after i tell this guy what i'd written (살고 싶다), he smiled and told me he was glad i was alive.

so. that was definitely weird, because i don't think it's very common to be told i'm glad you're here, i'm glad you're alive after conversing with someone for maybe two or three minutes, but it was still rather sweet. i awkwardly thanked him (while trying suddenly very hard not to cry), and then we switched topics (as one does). thankfully, we didn't have to talk too long after that--the bus came shortly after, and i was feeling a Very Certain Kind of Way for the rest of the day (week).

#answered #nessa? uh nessa? #strangers are weird but also sometimes they are good

[synchlora]

I heard apocalypse AU? 👀

YOPOOOOOOOOOOO YESYEZYEZTWSDAGAVZGX

Yes

PARTICULARLY for the bench trio and wilbur :]] this was literally all sparked bc I saw an au where ranboo dies and I got so viscerally upset over it that I went through. so much effort to make an au where he lives. christ

SO :D

(so so many warnings abt graphic medical shit, infection, necrosis, Pain, medical malpractice, just. bad things, please be Careful)

tommy and tubbo r childhood friends. they run into one another quite soon after separating from their families. tommy ran from his family after his parents killed his sister, tubbo ran when his family told him to save himself and he blames himself for not saving them.

RANBOO. shows up half fucking dead lmao. many bites, definitely infected to become a zombie, arm is. very necrotic. and what else do tommy and tubbo do when they see another kid their age slowly becoming zombified?? take him home ofc <3

they live in an old rv out in the woods and ooh its shit but its something. ranboo is like. doing a little better??? bc hes not Actively starving but he is also still Infected and struggling w his arm. so tommy and tubbo have got to figure something out w all this

they decide to raid a nearby abandoned hospital for supplies and after taking a lot of medical equipment and drugs they Do Not Understand, they run into wilbur wandering the halls. they r obviously v defensive but wilbur is very curious, especially abt why they are taking basically Useless medical equipment unless they know how to use it

after some talking and deliberation, they learn that wilbur is (or rather was) a med student who was working an internship at the hospital when the apocalypse happened. no clue what happened to his family, they don't live nearby and there's no way to contact them

after long discussion between the two of them, tommy and tubbo decide to risk bringing wilbur back to see if he can somehow help ranboo. yeah its risky as hell to bring a stranger back to their most vulnerable friend but they're desperate as shit and wil seems to at least have Training lmao

so wilbur helps getting the equipment set up and he takes one look at ranboo and is just like jesus christ ive got my work cut out for me. BUT they get shit set up and start shit <- very technical language /s

tommys good at the tech shit, wilbur has the medical knowledge, and tubbo has the nerves of steel. and oooh boy those will come in handy becauseeeee

they have to amputate ranboos arm

basic details (BIG BIG WARNING FOR GROSS MEDICAL SHIT, BE CAREFUL): wilbur instructed, tubbo performed, tommy monitored ranboo Very Closely (hes on so much fucking pain killers its unbelievable. no general anesthetic, they have access but itd be too risky. they do have localized anasthetics though). applied tourniquet to upper arm around bicep area. pinned ranboos arm so he can't move it too harshly and cause unwanted damage. tubbo cut carefully and didn't shake a bit, ensuring to leave a skin flap of healthy, live skin for sewing and wilbur cauterized the blood vessels and major nerves as they went. obviously, as there is no general anesthesia, ranboo is fucking Screaming and also unable to sit still. that's tommys job, to monitor vitals and also literally keep him from yanking so hard he messes tubbo up. tubbo cut through muscle quickly and had a bonesaw to cut through the bone. hardest part of the entire procedure was smoothing down the bone at the cut. ranboo ended up passing out from pain and despite himself, tubbo was relieved at the lack of screaming. tommy was worried as shit at ranboo passing out but he closely watched to ensure he was still breathing and Alive. tubbo finished up and, with more of wil's instruction, covered the wound with the sewed skin (he would have left it open to monitor, but it was too much of a risk with how high-stress it was for ranboo already) left some drainage tubes, put on heavy antibiotics, and dressed the wound with clean gauze. ranboo took several hours to wake up and awoke screaming once again

it is overall fucking Awful and incredibly traumatizing for all involved

ranboo is Very weak at this point, both from the amputation and the steadily worsening yknow. zombification and shit

so the trio looking after him are scrambling around to do something Anything to treat him and try and save the guy

surprisingly, the amputated arm is doing well??? it does not have its own separate infection and the skin is actively healing, albeit quite slowly, around the wound. they've got enough supplies from the hospital to last a while for clean dressings and medications. jesus fucking christ did I mention how many pain killers hes on????

doesn't mean it doesn't hurt but its like. not entirely hellishly unbearable. only agonizing most days

anyway, through all this time theyre monitoring infection signs closely and wilbur is helping adjust doses of a cocktail of antibiotics and antivirals and even antifungals, just fucking Everything man

and.. things start to change

the sickly green tinge to the skin around his lymph nodes starts turning a more natural pink, the darkened veins start to lighten to a more human shade, the glassy fog over his eyes slowly begins to clear

and holy fucking shit did they just cure an infected person?????

hes been sick since they met him and now he's finally starting to get.. better?

dont get me wrong, hes still struggling and in so much pain and my god the dependencies hes got on a Lot of painkillers oough man, BUT. he is alive

and its an ordeal but. he starts to recover. the infection subsides. his arm is fully able to heal now that his body can focus energy to do that. he starts to actually be able to be himself and by god it really made it all worth it

AND THEY ALL FOUR LIVE HAPPILY EVER AFTER NO FUCKINH DEATH FUCK THAT THEY GROW OLD TOGETHER ND HAVE A GOOD TIME :]]

#thank you tahnk yous tahstaigsahsysj THAMK YOU for asking abt this ohmygod #sosoosos many thoughts abt this au....... #this is very graphic so i do apologise i just #biggest pet peeve is simplified/romanticized medical shit. like no its not easy this is literally Hell. modern medicine is Complex #and i wanted to make something w some (and oh boy do i stretch it) medical accuracy #answered #awesamhimbo #apocalypse au where ranboo lives and its all happy and good and wonderful #medical tw #ask to tag

[strawberriestyles]

Chapter 17

(Banner made by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles​)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: FINALLY HARRY SPEAKS A LIL. This chapter is a bit different but I hope y’all enjoy it anyway. Please, let me know! When you’re finished reading, please consider donating to the Black Covid Relief Fund!!! Black people are often disproportionately affected by medical emergencies. If you can’t donate, find some petitions to sign or another way to continue helping! Xx

Harry had barely slept. He watched the sun rise, painting the west wall of Melody’s room in rich pinks and golds, unwilling to leave the bed. He didn’t know how she’d feel if she woke and he wasn’t next to her. In fact, he didn’t know how she would feel when she woke and he was.

The answer came not long after he began to wonder.

Melody blinked her eyes open, facing the wall beside the bed. Her head felt weighted, like she’d had too much to drink. And she probably had, now that she thought about it. She usually rationed herself with wine.

The memory of wine triggered the memory of the events at dinner’s end. Melody had hoped, at first, that she’d had an incredibly vivid nightmare. But the wine was still sweet on her tongue, and the blood spattering the restaurant’s floor was not something that would come in dreams. She blinked again at the wall, dreading the day. But eventually she turned onto her back.

Harry was studying the marks in the ceiling when Melody shifted beside him. She watched his eyes begin to drift toward her face before snapping skyward again. He stiffened, wondering if she would speak to him. Wondering if she might climb right over him and pretend he didn’t exist.

“How could you do that?” she asked, the first words of the morning. Her voice was soft. Harry was suddenly grateful that this conversation had not taken place the night before.

“I...” Harry closed his eyes. It was ironic that now the pull of sleep threatened to keep them shut, when he needed to be alert. He fought to stretch them open and then looked down at the bruises dotting his knuckles. “I didn’ do it to upset you,” he finally answered. “Can yeh believe that?”

Melody sighed. “I believe that you don’t try to hurt me intentionally, yes.”

“‘M frustrated. I’ve already told yeh that, but ‘s like there’s this buzzing in my whole body and I can’ get rid of it unless I hit someone.”

“Sean is not some stranger you can knock around, Harry.” Melody sat up, bending her legs to hug her knees. “He doesn’t deserve that. I don’t deserve this. You accused me of sleeping with him. And I know that it was just a fucked up excuse to fight, but what if I hadn’t? What if I hadn’t known that? Do you understand how it feels to hear you say that?”

Harry’s heart leaped. Out of place, somehow, closer to his stomach than in his chest. He shook his head slowly. “I didn’ mean it,” he murmured.

“You keep saying things you don’t mean, Harry.” Melody released a short laugh, but it was the most humorless sound Harry had ever heard. “Do you think there aren’t consequences for that? You’re sorry for it after, so it’ll just go away? It doesn’t go away. I still remember you saying those things.

“And I keep forgiving you,” Melody continued, looking at the west wall, which was fading into a magnificent yellow as the sunrise ended. Her voice cracked and Harry worried that she was close to tears again. “And my heart fucking aches every time you do something like this without thinking about me, about how I might feel. Because I do think about you. I think about you in almost every single thing I do. And it’s not fair.”

Melody wiped the silent tears from her cheeks, relieved by her own honesty, apprehensive of Harry’s response.

Harry rubbed his eyes. Melody looked fully at him for the first time this morning and noticed how tired he appeared, the dark circles rimming his eyes, the drawn look of his face. She almost sympathized, remembering his gentle caresses when she had trouble sleeping.

“‘S not fair,” he agreed, swallowing thickly. “‘M so sorry, Mel. If I could take it back this time, I really would. And not just so yeh wouldn’ be angry. I fucked up.”

“I’m not angry, Harry,” Melody said, turning away when he looked back at her. “I’m not. I can’t be angry anymore.”

Harry struggled to pull himself up, leaning against the windowsill. His heart hammered within his chest as she avoided his eyes again. This felt like anger.

“Well, I am angry.” Melody’s gaze finally flickered to meet his. He found that he couldn’t hold it. “I’ve been angry for a long time and I don’ know how to let it out any other way. It shouldn’ have been Sean, but—Christ, at least he can hit back.”

Melody watched him lift a hand and prod at the edges of his nose. She pressed her lips into a thin line. “He shouldn’t have to hit back, Harry. You are out of control.”

“‘M not just—”

“You need a therapist,” Melody said, and Harry fell very quiet. He waited a few breaths to absorb what she’d said.

“I don’ need—”

“You do,” she insisted, sitting up straighter, as if it might lend her words more weight. “This is the most you’ve talked to me since I’ve known you, Harry, and it didn’t come until after you attacked Sean, after you said...what you said.” She drew in a deep breath. “You need to work out whatever’s going on in your head, and you won’t let me help. I’ve tried. So you need to talk to someone else.”

Melody watched Harry’s expression close off. She glanced at the greenery above his head and noticed the brown edges protruding from one of the pots. Her favorite plant was dying and she hadn’t noticed because she’d been so caught up in everything else that had been going on around her.

She waited for another minute, allowing Harry to form some type of response. But the silence persisted. And when she grew sick of waiting she unfolded her legs and lifted herself over him to leave the room.

***

“So Harry, what brings you here today?”

Harry still had his jacket on, zipped to his chest, prepared for a quick getaway. He scratched at the leather of the armchair he sat in with one fingernail, a nervous tick. Nervous was not an emotion familiar to him.

“My…my girlfriend,” he answered, low in his throat.

“What’s her name?”

“Melody.”

The therapist smiled, scribbling over the notepad she held in her lap. She glanced up when she’d finished, watching Harry scratch and tap at the arm of his chair, bounce the ball of his foot on the floor.

“Did Melody ask you to come?”

Harry nodded, now drawing his ankle up and over his other knee. He glanced out the window and watched the light at the next intersection shift from red to green, listened to impatient horns sound.

“Would you like to tell me about her?” the doctor prompted. Harry had already forgotten her name. Bidel or Beetle, something like that.

“What about her?”

“Well, how did you two meet?”

Harry breathed out a dry laugh. He pressed his lips together, but fought the part of him that wanted to keep silent and launched into a retelling of middle school, the bullies and his brother and Melody, and his first boxing class.

“You’ve been dating since sixth grade?” she asked. Beutel. Her name was Dr. Beutel.

“No, tha’s just when we met. I met her again a little over a year ago.”

Dr. Beutel scribbled feverishly. “It’s hard for me to believe you’ve lived in the States since you were that young. Your accent is rather distinct.”

“I moved back,” Harry informed her. “We moved back to Cheshire that year. I got kicked out of school.”

The therapist frowned, laying her pen down flat on her notepad. “For fighting,” she said, unquestioning.

Harry nodded.

“Do you fight professionally?”

Harry’s lips puckered. “Not anymore.”

“And how did...” she gestured to his face, scabbing cuts and yellowing bruises.

Harry sighed. “Uh, tha’s why she wanted me to come here. I kind of fought Sean. He’s my...my friend. Well, he was my trainer, really. And now he’s not. Now he’s her trainer.”

“Melody’s.”

“Yeah.”

Dr. Beutel shook her head almost imperceptibly. She stroked the pendant on her necklace once and then crossed her legs, pulled her notepad closer.

“Okay, how about we start from the beginning? Your family.”

Harry drew a hand over his face, carefully avoiding his nose. “Not my favorite subject.”

“So I’ve guessed.” She smiled wanly. “You’ve talked a little bit about your brother. Half-brother, right? What about your parents? Do you get along?”

“With my mum. Haven’ talked to my dad in almost six years.” Harry was surprised at his own bluntness.

“And why’s that?”

“Because he doesn’ give a fuck about me. Instead of protectin’ me he let Colton live in our house.”

“And do you think Colton would hurt you?”

Harry barked out a laugh. He’d forgotten that this woman didn’t know about the strangest parts of his life yet. She only had snippets.

“He shot me last year,” he deadpanned, “in the head.” He pulled back the hair brushing his left ear to reveal the pockmarked scars in his scalp. “And I was in a coma all summer. Sorry, I should’ve led with that.”

Dr. Beutel froze, staring at him, her fingers hovering over her pen.

“Oh, also my mum has brain cancer. She’s been in and out of hospitals since we moved back to Cheshire.”

Harry waited while his therapist began to reconcile this with what she already knew about him. The seconds ticked by. She wrote in her notepad without speaking another word to him and then she glanced at her watch and gasped.

“Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. We’re over time for today. Can you come back next week?”

Harry sighed. He didn’t want to come back. Today had felt like a joke. It didn’t make him feel any better, it hadn’t even tapped into the restlessness sizzling just beneath the surface of his skin. But he nodded as he left.

“I look forward to seeing you,” Dr. Beutel said as he closed the door.

***

A week and a very meager amount of progress with Melody later, Harry sat in the same chair, somehow more relaxed. Melody had barely spoken to him since the morning after her birthday, not that he blamed her. But if he felt lonely before, now even Bea paid him the slightest mind. And Josie was still pissed that he’d put her leftovers at risk.

“How are you doing?” Dr. Beutel asked.

“Peachy.”

“You sure you didn’t mean cheeky?”

Harry grinned for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He tipped his shoulder up. “Not completely sure.”

Dr. Beutel smiled back. She slid her feet to one corner of her armchair, twirling the pen she held between her fingers.

“Just before our last session ended, you told me about your mother. She has recurring cancer?”

Harry nodded, his smile slipping faster than the changing traffic light outside the window.

“Are you close with your mother?”

“Well,” Harry began, stalling for a moment to ponder the question, “I guess yeh could say that. I haven’ seen her in almost two years but I talk to her a lot.”

“Has Melody spoken with her?”

Harry felt his own face contort. “Uh, no. I call my mum when she’s not around.”

“Why is that?”

He huffed out a thoughtful breath. “I dunno, really.”

Dr. Beutel began to write. Her pen twisted slowly across a clean page of her notepad. “Do you think,” she asked, without looking up, “that it might be because you separate your life into two categories?”

“What?”

“Your life in England, your family, I think that you might compartmentalize them. Separate from Melody, I mean. And even boxing. I think that Melody feels outside of that space for you, and that might be why it bothers you so much—her fighting and you not. It might seem like she’s bleeding across the borders that you’ve put in place.”

Harry didn’t know how to respond. He glanced down at the ugly scabs that spotted his knuckles, still pulling at his skin every time he stretched his hand.

“You live with Melody?”

Harry nodded, still not meeting the doctor’s eyes. He was worried what else she might see if he were to look fully at her.

“And did you live with her before? Before your injury, I mean.”

“No.”

From this angle, he could still see Dr. Beutel nodding to her notes.

“So, Harry,” she began, piecing together the information that she’d gathered, “did you have any girlfriends back in England?”

Harry shook his head, clearing his throat. “No, ‘m not really one for relationships.”

“Well, maybe you weren’t before, but I think you are now.”

“What?” He looked up at last and Dr. Beutel was smiling at him, her head tilted.

“Melody asked you to speak with a therapist. Would you ever have done that before? Would you talk about yourself this much with a stranger if it wasn’t for her?”

Harry was quiet again. This was something that had worried him for nearly a year. Half of the things he’d done since he began seeing Melody, he never would have dreamed of doing before her. This wasn’t the person he’d grown used to being.

“I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you,” the therapist said, when he didn’t return the conversation. “You’ve experienced a lot in your life. A lot more than most people could claim to have experienced in an entire lifetime, but I think you’re in a good place right now. It sounds to me like Melody cares very much for you. And even if it hasn’t been a conscious thought, you feel like you don’t deserve it.”

“I don’!” Harry nearly shouted. He paused and sat back in his chair, collecting his emotions and lining them up. He knitted his fingers together over his stomach. “I don’. It was her fuckin’ birthday and I hit her trainer—”

“Your friend,” Dr. Beutel corrected. She hadn’t even flinched at his outburst. “You hit Sean, your friend. These two areas of your life—fighting and Melody—they’re blending and he’s a large player in that mix. Do you think you don’t deserve Melody because you picked a fight with Sean, or do you think you picked a fight with Sean because you feel like you don’t deserve Melody?”

Harry’s mind spun. “What, you mean like ‘m tryin’ to fuck up on purpose?”

“Perhaps,” she answered with a nod. “Perhaps some part of you is trying to find a way out.”

Harry sighed and sifted a hand through his hair, fingertips brushing his scars. “What should I do?”

The therapist laughed gently and shook her head. “I mean, I’m not a fortune-teller, Harry. I don’t know what will help you patch up your relationship and I don’t know what will let you out of it. But I do think you need to put in some positive effort if Melody means something to you. Try to redirect your aggression. Maybe go to one of her matches?”

The suggestion was quiet, soft, a mere idea. And Harry’s heart ticked uncomfortably at the sensation of being seen. Would anyone else have been able to untangle the complex knots of his life with the information he’d given Dr. Beutel? Would Melody? Harry wasn’t sure, and he didn’t know if he wanted anyone else to examine him this meticulously. But he said his thanks before he left, anyway, and the entire way back to the apartment, he felt like he was studying his own thoughts from a new perspective.

Chapter 18

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles imagine #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x ofc #harry styles au #boxer!au #boxer!harry #harry styles ferocity

[squishitude]

My guess as to what will happen to the love interests in season 2:

Lila- turns out to be some kind of villain, it’s just the vibes I’m getting especially since she shows up on the trailer a lot, maybe as a commission agent or part of some other organization. I don’t think she’d be completely bad, maybe having to do thing she doesn’t want to but doesn’t have a choice or smth? I can see her becoming part of the main cast whether she does some bad things or not. I feel like she probably doesn’t have many attachments in the sixties so when they inevitably leave she goes with them.

Raymond- gets left behind in the sixties at the end of the season. He seems like a very pragmatic person. I feel like Allison would want him to come with her in the end, but he’d choose to stay to continue his work in the civil rights movement, and he’d understand Allison has to go. Especially if he knows about her daughter. It’d be a v bittersweet parting. I hope not though, I want him to stick around

Sissy- I don’t think she’ll turn out to be a villain who manipulates Vanya, because that would just be rehashing the S1 plot point with the same exact character, and I just don’t think it would bring anything new to the table. I would say she’d die, but she has a kid which complicates things, so I think that’s unlikely. Her kid just complicates a lot in general, as I can’t see her getting too deeply involved with a lot since it would put him in danger... unless he is kidnapped somehow (by her ex husband maybe?? He could be a villain) which then forces Sissy to get involved. In the end though, unless smth horrible happens to her kid (doubt), she’d stay behind in the sixties too

Wild Card:

Dave-

I know he probably won’t show up outside of flashbacks this season but consider:

I just get a vibe that he’ll show up again at some point and it’ll have something to do with the commission. They’d revive and use him as bait to get rid of Klaus (I figure they’d probably see him as a threat after he and Ben took out all those agents pretty quick at the end of S1, and he may become an even bigger threat depending on how his S2 powers go), and either use him as a hostage or maybe make him an agent too? And ensuring he had no memories of Klaus or most of his life prior.

OR OR they kidnap 1963 Dave, whose alive and has never met Klaus, to use against him. And he might escape, with help or on his own, and Klaus is just a stranger ofc so Dave hates him right off the bat for getting him mixed up in this mess and wants nothing to do with him. Can you imagine the pain that would bring. Not only would Dave not know Klaus, he’d HATE him.

I just think that Dave will become relevant outside of flashbacks at some point, if not in this season then the next. There’s just so much potential with him, so I can’t see the writers not using that at some point.

Eudora-

Of course she won’t show up in S2 outside of flashbacks but she could be in S3? I mean come on, they’re time traveling. If they go back to 2019 before the apocalypse it would likely be before she’s killed; or them being in the 60s means Klaus was never kidnapped and she wouldn’t have died at all.....and wouldn’t have met Diego either.....

I hope this was coherent goodb—

#the umbrella academy #tua #tua s2 #season 2 #tua season 2

[springday-aus]

Tuxedo Mask!AU with Seokjin

moodboard link

Group: BTS

Member: Kim Seokjin

Genre: fluff, romance

Type: Bulletpoint AU 

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I’ve been binge watching Sailor Moon and became a weeb for this entire au idea........... 

Tuxedo Mask is a known superhero around Asia

he goes around, saving people with his roses and lecturing people about right and wrong

(he’s lowkey known to be kind of preachy lol)

but goddamn

he is attractive, even with a mask covering a portion of his face

I mean, he’s tall and he’s got those broad shoulders that could land a whole ass plane

and the suit

goddamn the fucking suit y’all

it showcases those long legs, the shoulders, and that small waist

and the amount of times the villain attacking the city will be like

Damn, who are you???

it happens nearly every time and it’s hilarious

bc like Sailor Moon would be fighting and he’d appear for backup and the villain will be like 👀 hold the fuck up

speaking of which

people think he and Sailor Moon are in love

but it’s really just a partnership thing at most 

it works, especially since she needs the additional help

(plus she’s like 13??? 14??? years old and that is very gross for them to be…….. involved)

he gets along well with the other sailor guardians too

you know…….. as well as he, a grown ass adult, can with a bunch of middle schoolers

he often helps Mercury with her homework

Jupiter and him like to swap recipes to try out 

Mars helps him often with his luck at the temple

and he often sees Venus at the gym, practicing her volleyball

anyways

other than the sailor guardians, no one really knows his true identity

unless a villain found out, in which they would be destroyed after...

Tuxedo Mask is also Kim Seokjin, a model citizen from Korea

(well, most of the time)

honestly, he didn’t really think he would be getting away with this whole secret identity thing

it’s been like five years since his first transformation and he has yet to get legitimately caught

he can’t remember much from the first time he changed 

but there was a massive headache and a gust of wind and then…

poof, Tuxedo Mask was born

he thought the costume change was nice

but he also thought it was stupid

like who was he going to fool???

apparently, everyone

who knew the power of a mask?

(no wonder no one has discovered Superman yet) 

anyways

he really likes this whole secret identity thing because when he walks around after saving the say...... 

it kind of feeds his ego bc half of it is about how handsome and heroic and just he is

and he likes hearing a third party describe how he was during the whole fight 

it makes him sound a lot cooler than what he was actually doing 

(which is beating the villain down with his stick and poking them with his roses)

while he could have liked a more normal life, this whole double life is kind of nice

because he gets to help others when they need it

and by the end of the day, that’s all that matters to him 

anyways, other than the whole transformations

Seokjin is just an average guy

and he likes the way things are, even with the craziness his second life leads him into 

so where do you come in?

you came into his life when you walked out of your local grocery store

and into him 

okay, not exactly into him 

but you…. basically witness him transforming back to Seokjin in the alleyway 

the thing is tho 

he doesn’t notice you 

at least not at first 

but when he looks up and walks out of the alley…….. 

Seokjin: “how much did you see?” 

You: “all of it” 

Seokjin: shiiiiiiiiiiiitttttttttttttt 

yeah…... it was all very awkward for both you and him 

you’re just a civilian…….. 

so what does he do know? 

on the other hand, you will admit he’s just as handsome as people say he is 

with and without the mask 

you understood his appeal

Seokjin: “uhhhh, so do you think you could like, not say anything about this?” 

You: “I figured you wouldn’t want me to say anything” 

Seokjin: “.....are you a villain? monster? trying to take over the world???” 

You: “even if I was, would I really even tell you?” 

Seokjin: “probably not, right?” 

You: “right” 

you both kind of stand there, rocking on your toes, not really knowing what to do next 

You: “well, I’m going to leave now bc I have ice cream and it’s melting” 

Seokjin: “do you need help carrying those?” 

he gestures towards your groceries and you have to say no 

bc even tho he’s technically a superhero person, he’s still a stranger

and who knows what he’ll do, considering the fact that you just found out his secret identity 

You: “no, thanks—I’m good, have fun saving people or whatever” 

and you walk off towards your apartment 

Seokjin just kind of watches you leave 

he can’t really do anything so…….. 

at the end of the day, he’s laying in his bed, feeling apprehensive 

even tho you don’t know his name, you know his face 

(and lbr, he’s got a face no one can forget) 

he feels indebted to you and he……. is not a fan of it 

somehow he wants to make it up to you

that doesn’t mean he does anything drastic but 

he’s a bit more on the lookout for you and any issues you might have 

nothing happens for a bit 

and you almost forget that you found out about Tuxedo Mask’s identity 

until you are attacked by a monster 

ah yes, the day had some that some monster had some absurd reasoning 

it said something about energy and some grandiose speech and you weren’t really paying attention bc you were fucking terrified 

next thing you knew, everything went black 

Seokjin managed to catch you before you fell 

Sailor Moon and the other sailor guardians came and fought off the monster while Seokjin took you away from the scene

they all do their thing and then the energy is restored into your body 

when you wake up, you’re in an unfamiliar place and Seokjin is right beside you 

Seokjin: “oh, you’re up—are you feeling okay?” 

You: “yeah, I’m fine, I’m still a little tired tho.. what happened?” 

Seokjin explains that some monster tried to take your energy for an evil plan, you knocked out cold, the energy was restored when the monster was destroyed, etc. etc. 

and then he took you back here bc he didn’t know where you lived and didn’t want to leave you in the park 

you know he’s just a stranger, but he also did kind of save your life 

(more or less bc the sailor guardians kind of did most of the work but still) 

so you rest there for a bit 

he lets you chill and makes you food and all that good stuff 

y’all have a lil moment together 

it’s a good time 

and it’s like you’re in your own little bubble away from the world

you even take this as an opportunity to ask him the questions others can’t 

he tells you how he can tell someone’s in trouble 

the powers he has (even tho it seems like Tuxedo Mask doesn’t have any) 

and he also clarifies the relationship with Sailor Moon……………. 

it’s nice for him bc he finally has someone else he can talk to about this 

he obviously can’t tell any of his friends 

and the sailor guardians are literally like 14 year old girls 

it’s nice to unload this to someone else 

and it’s a bonus that you’re cute 

after a couple of hours, you’re sure that you’re feeling better 

so you basically set up to leave 

but before you do………….. Seokjin asks for your number………… 

Seokjin: “we should do this again sometime” 

You: “like a date?” 

Seokjin: “like a date” 

dating Tuxedo Mask!Seokjin is just like dating Seokjin 

I’m talking the fun cooking dates, the bad jokes 

all the good stuff

it’s only every once in a while, he’ll have to abruptly leave a date to save someone 

while you are upset sometimes, you understand 

it doesn’t happen often tho—he tries very hard not to do that often bc he feels really bad 

on the bright side, he does make it up to you immediately afterwards 

there was one time he showed up at your place and he forgot to transform back 

so you woke up and he was just there… in his suit 

the moonlight hit him and he looked……… ethereal 

anyways 

Seokjin is very goofy, like in general 

and that’s a good thing bc it’s what makes your dates so fun 

every once in awhile he gets serious 

it’s during the late nights when it’s just you, him, and the tv

you would talk and 

for a couple of moments, that’s when you see his inner Tuxedo Mask coming out 

he talks about justice and doing what’s right, for yourself or the better of society 

it’s endearing as to how he gets about making the world a better place and all that good stuff 

he may not have chosen the life, but he doesn’t mind it 

speaking of which, you got to meet the sailor guardians (unintentionally of course) 

they insisted on meeting you and you kind of put two and two together 

bc you should be heavily concerned if your boyfriend is hanging out with middle schoolers and they aren’t related in some form 

anyways it was super cute 

they all get along with you super well and keep you up to date with things 

like if they have to go on a dangerous mission 

or travel to another dimension 

and things to look out for 

ofc Seokjin keeps you updated on that sort of thing, but he also doesn’t want to worry you so 

it’s cute 

moving on 

Seokjin in general is just a cute boyfriend 

he’s very domestic and a part of you melts everytime you see him in his lil apron 

whenever he’s with kids 

another part melts 

you just keep melting bc he’s absolutely adorable and he just tries so hard to make you happy and support your dreams just like you support him 

**cue him blowing kisses at you**

I just love Seokjin okay

#admin grandma #grandma aus #aus #fluff #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop aus #bts #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts aus #kim seokjin #kim seokjin imagines #kim seokjin scenarios #kim seokjin aus #tuexdo mask!au #tuxedo mask!seokjin #group: bts #member: kim seokjin

[losille2000]

Hoot and Howl, Chapter 3

TITLE: Hoot and Howl CHAPTER NUMBER: 3/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 CHARACTERS: Actor!Chris Evans/OFC GENRE: Paranormal Romance (more on the magical realism side?) FIC SUMMARY: Chris goes on a camping trip to calm the noisy anxiety in his head, but it ends up leading him into his own messed up version of a Disney movie. When he said he wanted to be a Disney prince as a boy, this was absolutely not what he meant. Especially considering that the princess is also, well… about that… RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS:  Nothing. AUTHORS NOTES: Sorry for the wait... and thank you all for reading!

Previous Chapter - Also available on Archive of Our Own!

Chapter 3

A hand on Chris’ shoulder shook him awake. It took a few seconds to fully come to, but once he did, he immediately noted how dark the room was. The dying embers in the fireplace barely illuminated the silent woman hovering over him from her spot standing behind the couch. She smiled silently, like the Cheshire cat, and stood back while he tried to pull himself into a sitting position. However, a heavy Navajo blanket of woven rust red wool impeded his movement.

 He remembered, vaguely, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders after Dr. Bird had shown him back into her house. Not only had it immediately warmed his shivering body, but any remaining tension in his muscles loosened. Somewhat—and almost deliriously—he remembered thinking that it felt like a hug. And not like any old hug. This was like a mom hug. The type of hug his mom gave him every time he got on a plane for work, like she’d never see him again and wanted to fill him with all the love she possessed in case something happened.

 It made him feel completely and utterly at peace.

 So at peace, in fact, he’d passed out.

 It was unlike him. He was always on alert, always dealing with the persistent worry rippling through his head. He took pills and did some hard core meditation to find this kind of relaxation at night, unless he was so physically exhausted he couldn’t keep his eyes open. Otherwise, he suffered extreme insomnia from the need to be on guard.

 “Hi,” said the woman softly, her alto voice soothing.

 Chris blinked a few more times, forcing himself to pay attention to the hypnotic black eyes that stared back at him. He finally succeeded in shifting to a sitting position, rubbing his face, waiting for the blood flow to return. He yawned. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I passed out like that. How long—”

 “Three hours,” she replied.

 “Why did you let me sleep?”

 The strange, beautiful woman shrugged. “The storm blew in off the mountain and it wasn’t a good idea for you to leave when I finished with Dodger, so I let you sleep. I’m not surprised you fell asleep—you were pretty keyed up earlier. That takes a lot of energy out of you.”

 “Where is Dodger?”

 On cue, the canine hobbled around the couch and limped over to him, awkwardly jumping into his lap. The bandage—purple in color—encased the paw and most of the leg. Dodger threw himself against Chris’ chest and released a long-suffering sigh. Chris hugged him close, burying his nose in the dog’s fur. He smelled terrible from the ordeal, but it still somehow smelled like Dodger, and that was all he wanted. Everything was right with the world.

 “The leg will be fine, by the way,” Dr. Bird said, coming around the back of the couch and finding a seat on a lumpy armchair. She reached over and flicked on a lamp, flooding the room in light. “The staples need to come out in a few weeks, and he’ll take a course of antibiotics and have a pill for pain management.”

“So I freaked out over nothing?”

 Dr. Bird shook her head. “It wasn’t nothing, and you did need to bring him in quickly. You’re just a concerned dog parent.”

 “Do they teach you how to handle crazy people in veterinary school?” he asked.

 She let out a whooping laugh. “I learned that particular skill on the job.”

 Chris looked down at Dodger, who was half asleep. “He’s sleepy.”

 “It’s the drugs. I gave him the good stuff,” Dr. Bird replied. “He’ll be a little drowsy when you give it to him, as needed. Also, you need to keep the bandage dry. Going back out to your campsite probably isn’t the best idea, especially as the nor’easter is finally here.”

 “Nor’easter?” he asked.

 She cocked her head to the side like an inquisitive bird. “The one they’ve been forecasting for the past three days?”

 Because of course something else would have to go wrong on this ill-fated camping trip. Clearly, he and Dodger were headed home after they got done here and packed up camp. The weather had been unusually cold and rainy since they made camp, but there hadn’t been anything in the forecast when they left Boston days before this.

 No… wait. Had he even looked at the forecast? If he did, he hadn’t paid attention as he hastily packed his gear and hightailed it out of town to get away from a nagging girlfriend.

 “You mean to tell me you went out into the wilderness without having some way to check the weather?” she asked. “What kind of idiot does that?”

 “This idiot, apparently,” he mused dryly. “Let’s just say I had other things on my mind when I left Boston. And people have been camping for eons in the middle of blizzards. This will just be a little cold rain.”

 “Those people were prepared for it, though. Did you bring gear for a nor’easter?”

 Chris pursed his lips. “Well, no…”

 “My point?”

 “True.”

 “I’m not letting you go tonight,” she said. “And I don’t mean that in a creepy psycho killer type way. I don’t want you to go out there and have something happen to you or Dodger. I like Dodger too much.”

 He appreciated her no-nonsense attitude. Most strangers changed their entire demeanor around him, though it wasn’t always because of his celebrity. Sometimes it was simply because they thought he was a somewhat attractive guy. He was so tired of being forced to read the situation and between the lines to understand the other person he was talking to. It was utterly exhausting. She was a breath of fresh air. What’s more, he agreed with her. He usually liked Dodger better than himself most of the time, too.

 “Normally, I would object, but I would appreciate it,” he said.

 “Good,” she replied and stood up from the chair. “I don’t mean to be an ungrateful host, but you need a shower. You’re a mess.”

 He lifted his arms and looked down at himself. Yep, nothing had changed since he’d arrived. Except the blood and mud had dried completely and began cracking and peeling off all over her couch. “Do you have something for me to wear?”

 “I can find something,” she said. “Let me show you to the bathroom.”

 Chris followed her obediently after moving Dodger to another couch cushion, wondering why he was following behind her like this. He certainly liked meeting new people, though staying in a strange person’s home was something else altogether. Dr. Bird’s no-nonsense attitude or not, he’d seen enough horror movies to know it probably wasn’t wise to accept an invitation to stay in an isolated farmhouse in the middle of a nor’easter without any ability to contact the outside world. He didn’t even know where he put the keys to his truck—they were probably still in the ignition, but he couldn’t say for sure. No matter how upstanding she seemed as a veterinarian, he couldn’t ignore the fact that everything about this place was strange to him, from the cat receptionist to the hugging blanket.

 “What’s wrong?” she asked as she stopped in front of a door down a long hallway.

 “I was just thinking that this is a set up for some sort of horror movie,” he said. “You’re not going to fatten me up and eat me, are you?”

 She threw her head back in laughter, but even with the mirth, he sensed a bit of tension in the tone of it. “I’m a terrible cook. So unless you can be fattened up with a frozen pizza, you’re in the clear.”

 “Frozen pizza?” he asked.

 “Pepperoni,” she said. “And a beer?”

 He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until that moment, and his rumbling belly let them both know that. “Sounds amazing.”

 “Good. Now, the towels are in the cupboard in the bathroom,” she explained. “Use any of the soaps. I’ll find some clothes and leave them out here by the door while I pull dinner together.”

 “Thank you, Dr. Bird,” he said.

 She grinned. “It’s Nascha.”

 Nascha… Nay-shaw. He repeated the name a few times in his head; he’d never heard a name like it. Somehow, though, it fit her. Strange and unique, like everything else he’d encountered.

 “You can lock the door if you’re worried about me turning into Norman Bates,” she teased, nodding at the door and turning on her heels to head the other direction.

 “I am locking it!” He called back, “But not because I think you’re going to murder me.”

 Nascha laughed. “I’m not going to jump your bones, either. You’re safe.”

 He couldn’t help but wonder, as he shut the door and flipped the lock, if he was safe. But, surprisingly, the anxiety that would usually be clawing its way out, stayed locked in its cage.

 ----

 Nascha puttered around the kitchen, wondering what in the actual hell she was doing with a strange guy in her house. And not just any strange guy. A strange guy who was a very real temptation in so many ways. She could so easily reach out and take what she wanted from him. The energy and vitality coming off him was a beacon—a strong magnet—and resisting its pull was exhausting. It was too easy to slip; she barely held on during her daily clinic appointments with her clients. Spending a whole night alone with someone under her roof? That was another story entirely.

 It wasn’t like she could just run off to an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting when she felt the urge to consume. They didn’t have SEA—soul eater’s anonymous—even though she wasn’t technically one of those, anyway. The old medicine woman who took her in as an orphan was the closest thing she had to a sponsor, and she had long since departed her earthly existence. Since then, she’d hidden out here in the woods and made friends with the local community of the magically-minded, but their magic operated differently than hers.

 And when someone must kill humans to survive, it tends to make that someone an outcast.

 The other magical folk in this town were all perfectly capable of horrible outcomes in their own practices, but none of them were forced to take human lives just to live their own. Even though they accepted her into the community, they still regarded her with suspicion. There were no open arms here. Going to one of them for help would yield nothing but a cold shoulder.

 Sometimes she wondered if staying on the reservation wouldn’t have been the better idea in the long run; at least there, she was an accepted part of the tribe. A feared part, sure, but still a part of it. And there were others like her.

 Nascha, the bear and his cub are here. I heard them arguing outside.

 Nascha startled at the intrusion to her thoughts, popping her head up to look at Ash. The cat sat on the kitchen counter in front of her, flicking her fluffy tail in agitation. Nascha patted her pockets for her cell phone, wondering why the motion sensor hadn’t detected the new visitors, but it wasn’t on her.

 See! Called the Southern-drawling dog from his spot on the couch on the other side of the large great room. There was a bear!

 She certainly did not need a visit from this bear, either. Not with her houseguest. The houseguest for whom she had not yet found clean clothes because she’d been so caught up stressing about him. 

Her front door burst open with a force too great for the wind. In stomped a boy of thirteen, dark shaggy hair hanging in his eyes and a curled, angry lip.  The boy threw his backpack on the floor with a flourish that sent it skidding to a halt across the room against a wall. He kicked off his Vans and promptly went to the couches in front of the television. Once there, he threw himself down next to Dodger with an overly dramatic flop of teenage angst.

 Then he said, “Alexa, turn television on.”

The television glowed to life.

“Nice to see you, too, Adam,” Nascha called out to him as she stepped from the kitchen into the living room, hands on her hips. “Where’s your dad?”

Adam didn’t bother to look at her. “Alexa, find Twitch.”

 “Adam!” growled the new male voice at the front door. “Turn the damn television off.”

 Adam ignored his father. Said father was a giant of six-foot-five and a wall of solid muscle with a mean look on his face and a gun on his hip; such a visage was nothing in the face of Adam’s bad attitude.

 Adam’s father walked over to the television and pulled the electrical cord from the wall. Adam let out the most epic groan and rolled his eyes. He sounded like Gollum freaking out over Sam Gamgee’s cooking. “Just let me watch TV!”

 “No. You need to do your Algebra homework!”

 “When am I ever going to need that bullshit, anyway?!” Adam yelled.

 Adam’s father took a step forward, his giant paws curling into fists. His square jaw tightened and a muscle just under the jagged scar by his left eye jumped. “You will do your homework, or so help me, you won’t see the light of day until you turn forty.”

 Dodger, who had been sitting silently on the couch, ungracefully stood and walked the short distance over to the teenager and laid across Adam’s lap, as though to protect him. Then Dodger said, Aren’t you gonna do somethin’, Doc?

 Nascha sighed heavily. She hated stepping between these two in family arguments. It wasn’t her place, no matter how much both men tried to insert her into their lives. But it needed to be done and Erik needed to leave.

 “Alright, you two,” she said, finally. “You both need to calm down.”

 “He started it!” Adam exclaimed.

 Nascha shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “What’s going on, Erik?” she asked the father, whose face had turned purple with rage.

 “The storm,” Erik grunted, waving his arm toward the open front door. “I have to go set up the command center because our new recruits can’t handle it, apparently.”

 “Okay…”

 She let the word fade as though she expected him to elaborate about how that involved her, but she knew what he meant. Since she’d moved into town, Erik had been the most welcoming and accepting of her peculiar magic. Some might even call him a friend, insomuch that he came around every so often to say hello, brought her venison steaks from his latest hunting trip, or helped her clean out the rain gutters. Sometimes he brought in injured wildlife he encountered, though all the park rangers and the other emergency services in the area usually did. Erik, however, stuck around for more than she was ever willing to give him, and it evolved into her occasionally being a place where he could leave Adam with an unpaid babysitter. She didn’t mind it, much. Adam was a fun kid when not in the throes of hormones.

 What Nascha didn’t like about the whole situation was Adam’s mother—the feeling was mutual between both women—and Erik’s complete disregard for that fact. Or that, just maybe, she wasn’t able to be an emergency mom when Erik’s ex-wife was too busy to take care of their son. Nascha did not relish facing the wrath of Brenna when she found out that Adam had spent another night at her house.

 “He needs to do his homework and then he needs to go to bed,” Erik replied. “Will you please see that this happ—who the fuck is he?”

 Nascha frowned. Behind her, a rather… damp… man stood in the hallway with a towel wrapped around his trim hips. For a minute, her brain short-circuited as her eyes traveled down the sculpted muscle of his torso to the cut of his hips that disappeared into the towel. She knew he was built; all she had to do was look at him to understand that. She had not expected this, or the fact that her feminine interest would be so strong.

“It’s a long story,” she said.

“Sorry,” he said. “You didn’t leave the clothes out for me and…”

 “No, I’m sorry,” Nascha said to Chris, stepping away from Erik toward her guest.

 Erik grumbled. “Nascha?”

 “Just give me a minute!” It came out more testy than she had hoped; Erik was the last person she wanted angry at her, but in her defense, she was a little stressed and he’d just have to deal with it.

 She scooted by Chris at the entrance to the hall, careful not to touch him, but would have been lying if she said she hadn’t readily inhaled the scent of cedarwood and sage that smelled heavenly on his clean skin. “I’ll bring you the clothes, you can wait in the bathroom.”

 Chris nodded his head and turned to head down the same narrow hallway. He did so carelessly, his naked torso accidentally grazing her uncovered arm. Every hair on her body rose to attention, gooseflesh prickling her skin. The unforgiving sexual awareness tightened her breasts and her nipples pebbled into hard sensitive peaks against her bra.

 This was the very last thing she needed.

 She glanced to her side, seeing if he had any reaction, but he was already stepping back into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. “Get your head on right, Nascha,” she muttered to herself. Focus. She needed to focus.

 Inside one of her spare bedrooms was a trunk of old things she kept from the previous owner of the house; when the old doctor had asked her for her help and given her the house in repayment for it, he did so because he had no relationships with his family. Still, though, she had packed his clothes and personal belongings into some boxes and kept them in storage should someone show up one day.

 It had been five years. No one had shown up.

 Every time she thought about it, it made her morose. What was the point of suffering in this life if you didn’t have someone there at the end to mourn? Not that she’d ever have anyone like that, considering how her life had turned out, but it was still a shame for humans to not have a legacy.

 She found an old cable knit sweater and a pair of sweatpants with a drawstring at the waist that still smelled reasonably fresh in the depths of the third box she hastily dug through. Perfect for a few hours, at least, while she threw his other clothes in the wash.

 The torn flannel was going in the trash, though.

 When she emerged, she heard Erik and Adam arguing again. It was time for Erik to go. Adam usually always did what she asked, but that was because she had patience. True to Erik’s ursine nature, he was quick to anger and once there, it took him ages to calm down.

 “Chris?” she asked when she neared the bathroom door. He thrust an arm out through a barely opened door. She handed over the garments and walked back to the living room.

 “Adam,” she said softly, “did you have dinner?”

 “No,” he replied.

 She nodded. “Go put the oven on to 425, please.”

 “Nae...” he moaned.

 “Go!” She pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “And you,” she turned to Erik, “outside.”

 She thought for a minute that Erik wasn’t going to comply, however, after a few seconds of hesitation, he followed her out onto the front porch.

 When the door was shut, she turned to Erik. “I thought we talked about this, Erik! You have to call me first to see if it’s alright.”

 “I did call!” he snarled. “You weren’t answering your cell.”

 “I was a little busy,” she said.

 “Clearly.”

 Nascha scoffed. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

 “Like I didn’t just see a naked guy walk out of the bathroom?” One of Erik’s dark eyebrows rose in challenge. This brow had one of the other prominent and jagged scars that adorned his otherwise handsome face. He always looked menacing when it lifted.

 “He came in with an emergency. His dog fell in the river,” she said. “He went after the dog, he was covered in blood, and I told him to take a shower. And I’m forcing him to stay here tonight instead of going back to his campsite because of the storm.”

 Erik regarded her for a silent moment that stretched too far to be entirely comfortable. “What campsite?”

 “I don’t know, the dog didn’t say. But he swears there was a bear out there,” she said. “Were you out patrolling this afternoon?”

 His nonreply was enough of an answer.

 “Well, I guess I owe Dodger an apology.” There certainly may have been one there in the trees, but it still wasn’t the thing that had ultimately caused Dodger’s injury.

 “You need to be careful, Nascha,” Erik said. “You don’t know this guy. He could be bad news.”

 Nascha snorted and shook her head. “Good thing I can protect myself.”

 The front door burst open again, this time with Adam rushing out and shutting the door behind him. He was dancing around wildly to get her attention, like he was about to burst from pent up energy. “Nascha! Nascha, Nascha, Nascha…”

 “What is it now, Adam?” she asked.

 “The dude!”

“What dude?”

 Adam gesticulated toward the door and inside the house. “That dude.”

 “What did he do?” Erik growled, his hand on his gun holster in a millisecond, ready to take matters into his own hands. Never mind that he could rip any man limb from limb with little effort and bare hands.

 “He didn’t do anything!” Adam said breathlessly. “Nascha, do you know who that is?”

 Nascha pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. He had seemed familiar to her, but other than that—

 He got close to her, leaning in to hiss-whisper, “That’s Chris Evans!”

 “Who?” she asked. The name didn’t particularly ring a bell, but she supposed he was someone noteworthy out in the real world. Probably a Youtube gamer, if Adam knew him.

 He was louder and exasperated. “Chris Evans!”

 When that still didn’t elicit a reaction from her, he groaned and shoved his hands in his hair. This was clearly stressing him out. “What am I doing with all you old people?! I swear to god… you are useless!”

“Who is he?” Nascha asked calmly. She hadn’t realized that Erik had gone silent, and that the other man in question was now standing in the doorway; he was fresh, clean, and—this time—fully clothed. Pity, that.

 With his hair slicked back, still damp from a shower, and really taking a good look at him, it hit her like a ton of bricks.

 Well, shit.

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fan fic #chris evans fan fiction #hoot and howl #somseries

[thegeminisage]

the tornado story

ok so what happened was there was a tornado in georgia & i got a warning for it on my phone & i was like “lol thats weird who cares about a tornado in georgia we’re not in georgia” except a bit later like RIGHT after we left my brother’s house (he’s in greenwood & we were visiting for mom’s bday) my phone went FUCKING BANANAS lit up with warnings like “torando warning we’ve laid eyes on it take shelter NOW” thats just how fast the goddamn thing was

& my mom was like, it’s totally calm out here, it’s 70 frickin degrees, im still smoking, we already left (we were like...stopped at a gas station just a few blocks away), she wanted to go home, and i (having an anxiety disorder and having also seen twister) was like HAHA NO? & she was like “look if u dont want to drive let me drive” & i was like “u can drive but i am not going on a bigass long road with a tornado on the ground in the DARK i am staying here at this gas station & i will somehow find my own way home after there is no longer a tornado u can take my van but i am a grown adult i will not move my body” and she thought i was being STUPID and i had to like really start letting my panic slip thru to get her to believe i was serious AND THEN

my brother, a real g, called & he was like, my & SIL’s phones just went apeshit there’s a tornado come back to our house & wait it out and so that’s what we decided to do

except we’d spent all those precious minutes ARGUING about it.

i should note that like as soon as mom mentioned how still and calm the weather was it turned pleasantly breezy, and then windy, and then started to drizzle, then rain - it had been overcast all day ofc raining on & off but it like then it really started to RAIN rain

so we drive back to my brothers house, again only a few blocks away, and im like apologizing to my mom bc its her bday celebration & i know how bad she wants to go home etc etc etc and believe it or not lads 

we fucking drove almost right through it

the rain was so thick and so fast that i could not see how to drive my van. i had my headlights on, my hazards on, my wipers going, etc - i’m no stranger to extremely heavy storms, i live in the southeast, i’ve been to florida, strong storms don’t scare me, but jesus FUCK...i cannot do justice to just how pants-shittingly terrifying it was to look out from the windshield and see nothing but this...horribly violent and turbulent grayish wall of water

and like the rain hitting the windows was DEAFENING but even through that you could hear the wind doing this weird...low...it sounds like a train and i only ever hear wind do that in hurricanes. sometimes you can almost feel it in the ground, that frequency - and you could hear not only the thunder rumbling but like things cracking and breaking - tree limbs, my best guess, we were lucky nothing hit the van

and i could feel the wind pulling at the car like i had to fight to keep it going straight and i want to emphasize again that i COULD NOT SEE i don’t mean low visibility or even extremely low visibility i mean i COULD NOT even a LITTLE bit see!! my van might as well have been in the bottom of a lake my windows might as well have been covered in blackout paint i mean there was NOTHING...i was inching along and every once in awhile caught sight of a landmark through a gap in the water or the silhouette of one when lightning flashed (which it did frequently)

and my mom thought i was overreacting the ENTIRE time. like my atheist ass was out here mentally reciting the lord’s prayer just to keep my mind on something so i didn’t go into a blind panic and she’s like “meh, weather” - we got back to my brother’s house and parked in front and she was like “eeeehhhhh idw get wet let’s wait it out in the car” & i was like (nicely) “are you fucking kidding me” so we went in but the little groove next to the sidewalk ur supposed to park in was just like FLOODED so when i stepped in it (not being able to see) i dead ass got soaked up to my ankle. i had to drive home in my socks. my shoe is still sodden

we stayed at my brother’s house a good 45 minutes but as it turned out i fucking DROVE through the worst of it lol also i kicked his butt at tetris while i was there he was really nice though like my mom wasn’t taking me seriously and i was trying to impress upon him that he nearly just lost both of his living family members 1996 style & he like turned on the ps4 while i was talking and put a controller in my hand and then before i knew it i was fine

anyway the tornado was supposed to head from greenwood straight over to clinton (where i live) which meant that it was supposed to run along most of the road i would have driven home on so we stayed there until it had passed even clinton, & called my aunt to make sure she was ok (she was fine)

and on the way home we passed like...so many places that were just. dark. like certain intersections (there’s no freeway out to greenwood unfortunately so u pass a few major intersections) they were just...off. the stores, the stoplights, everything. multiple times we saw two cars almost run into each other bc the stoplights werent working and nobody could agree on who had the right of way (if you didnt know, intersections w/ no power are supposed to work like 4-way stop signs). tree limbs & shit on the road, cars in ditches & police & ambulances out w/ flashing lights being the only light you COULD see at all aside from headlights, it was already COUNTRY dark out there so it was so spooky, and even on the way home it was still POURING and the wind fought with the car, we had a little lightning and thunder, it was fucking post-apocalyptic

but the creepiest part is to get home u have to cross a bridge over lake greenwood and its a bigass bridge and on one side of the bridge the power was on but on the other the whole lake (which is normally lit up and pretty) was just totally dark. and i dont mean. hard to see. i mean it was DARK. it was vantablack. u couldnt see the horzion unless lightning flashed. it was like the void

we have power off on the intersection closest to our house too but thankfully it’s on here...but it’s out in places all over town & there are tree limbs EVERYWHERE

we got home safe and sound (i had left my WINDOW open) & all the cats & the dog are OK, altho i know they had to be scared to death bc the dog hates storms and some of the cats do too. i dont normally mind them but that one really got me

and to think we talked all day about how nice it was that the high was 74 even in january. mother earth is trying to KILL us

#personal #i don't believe in reincarnation or anything right #but if i did i would suspect that whoever i was in my last life died in a tornado #im not scared of storms and im not scared of hurricanes and even turbulence on airplanes doesnt bug me #but say word one about a twister & we take it deadly serious in this house #i used to have recurring nightmares about tornadoes as a kid #if reincarnation is real past me DEFINITELY ate it in a twister #any no one has 2 read this it's long but jesus fuck

[mychemicalficrecs]

Have any good killjoy fics? Thanx :)

Hi Nonny!

So the truth is: I don't read a lot of Killjoys fic.However. Going through the tags, I saw familiar names here and there. So this is a list of long-ish, finished Killjoy fics by authors I've enjoyed!

Killjoys Fics

we are not afraid (and we are not ashamed) by Trojie, Frank/Ray/Gerard/Mikey, 27k, Explicit. An ordinary skirmish in the desert with dracs leads to Frank taking the brunt of a new weapon - and ends with him pregnant, furious, and freaking out. When the shit hits the fan and he gets kidnapped and taken back for interrogation by Korse, and forced to listen to the contents of the Traffic Report, something in him snaps. This fucking dystopia has gone on too long.

Time Travel 'verse by ladyfoxxx, Frank/Gerard, Ray/Mikey, 79k, Explicit, General Audiences. In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019.

Born to Motorbabies by jjtaylor, Frank/Gerard, 12k, Mature. Here's the thing with having a crush on a mysterious DJ; it's kind of an inconvenient place to hang your affections.

Kiss Me, You Animal by dear_monday, Frank/Gerard, 5k, Explicit. It totally wasn't his fault, okay? Frank would like that on record. Because it wasn't. An exploration of the complex dynamic between... oh, sod it. This is SHAMELESS KILLJOY PORN. \o/

Hold Your Heart Into This Darkness by tuesdaysgone, Korse/Gerard, Frank/Gerard, Ray/Mikey, 90k, Explicit. A Danger Days: True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys AU

Keep Running by silentdescant, Frank/Gerard, 25k, Explicit. The Killjoys love doing as much damage to BL/ind as they can, and until now, they've been lucky enough to avoid getting caught by Korse and his draculoid followers. But Korse's mission isn't to just kill them, it's to hurt them—hurt Gerard. And to do that, he uses Frank. After a traumatic, death-defying escape, Frank sets out with the guys to get revenge. In between the car chases and the gunfights, Frank has to let himself heal and figure how to return Gerard's feelings.

Ghost and Dust by Gorgeous Nerd (gorgeousnerd), Bob/Gerard, 28k, Explicit, General Audiences. Bob Bryar - also known as Spit Fire, the fifth Killjoy - should've died in the desert after Korse shot him in the head. But death isn't permanent in the zones, and rescue's nearly as ugly. When the fate of the resistance rides on Bob's shoulders, can Bob stop the mysterious enemies who anticipate his every move and cope with the mess Better Living Industries made of his life?

The Ballad of the Kobra Kid by romanticalgirl, Gabe & Mikey, 16k, Mature. You might be gone, but out here in the desert, your shadow lives on without you.

Empty Spaces by Ischa, Show Pony/Hayley Williams, Show Pony/Party Poison, 9k, General Audiences. Roughly five years in Show Pony's life. From his first love at 14, over his vow to never fall in love again to meeting Party Poison and then some more. “So, I hear you like words?” Poison asks out of the blue. Pony gives D a betrayed look. D has to fucking know that Pony isn't keen on being friends with Poison. He isn't even keen on pretending to be civil for god's sake!

Killjoys by greedy_dancer, Frank/Gerard, 7k, Teen And Up Audiences, Explicit. Gerard hasn't looked at himself properly in a while.

Bright white noise by Ischa, Party Poison/OFC, Party Poison/Pete, 12k, Explicit. Young Party Poison trying to find out who he wants to be. Ditching his fourteen year old brother, hooking up with dangerous women and catching rides with strangers. This is NOT a how Gerard became Party Poison fic. He knows that he's being a dick to her, but he feels restless and no one heard from Doctor D in weeks. It's not unusual, but Poison worries. Fuck, he thinks, he didn't worry when he was on the road and shooting at Dracs, letting Pischer fuck him and slept curled up in the backseat of her car. He misses the smell of the desert. This here isn't the desert. This is domesticated desert. It's not the same as being out there in the zones that could kill you just because you dared to step on the sand.

The Edges of This Map Have Been Burned by snarkydame, Frank/Gerard, 10k, Mature. The Killjoys took to the oceans, instead of the desert, and raid the BL/ind supply lines with only tenuous contact with the Zone Runners on land. When Gerard is lost, and taken by S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W's top captain, Korse, the crew of the Neon Angel have to get him back. Whether or not they'll get him back whole. . .

Keep The Car Running by inlovewithnight, Gabe/Mikey, 27k, Mature. Disaster Boy and the Kobra Kid: a love story.

A Spark Set to Flame by turps, Gen, 15k, Teen And Up Audiences. Gerard may be free, but he's discovered freedom costs. He's holed himself up in a room that's falling apart, he's lost the man he loves, and his brother is slipping away.Now Gerard's on the verge of losing himself, unless he can somehow find the strength to fight back.

War by akamine_chan, Korse/Gerard, 7k, Explicit. Korse doesn't usually see a need to go out into the field himself, he has his Draculoids and the S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W teams for that. But sometimes there's no way to avoid it.

Better Now Than How It Used to Be by Sena, Fun Ghoul/Kobra Kid, 9k, Mature. Kobra's life is mostly stimulants and science projects -- radios and water filtration systems being the two most important. He's got his projects and his pills, has his brother and the woman whose bed his brother warms, and that's more than enough for him. He doesn't even notice the way he makes room for Fun Ghoul until it's done, until there's a spot just for him that would be cold and empty if Ghoul ever walked away.

descend!verse by corruptedkid, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison, 133k, Teen And Up Audiences. Better Living didn't keep Party Poison alive as a kindness. "Rehabilitation," they called it. Slowly eating away at his identity, removing all the pieces they didn't like, then filling in the gaps until he was a normal, healthy citizen. But while they could silence his mind, there would always be music in his heart. There would always be a spirit that couldn't be crushed by pills or empty words. Even if Poison wasn't Poison anymore, he couldn't stop fighting if he tried.

Lost & Searching by wakingup, Lindsey/Laura Jane Grace, 10k, Not Rated. The Zonerunner pushed up into a sitting position, long legs bent in front of them. She couldn’t see their face because of their motorcycle helmet—a red anatomical skull painted on the side of it—all she could see was long brown hair spilling over their shoulders. Over the mouth of the helmet was painted “DEVOUR” in the same bright red. Lindsey felt goosebumps rise along her spine.

#fic rec list #killjoys #danger days #frank/ray/gerard/mikey #frank/gerard #ray/mikey #korse/gerard #bob/gerard #gabe & mikey #show pony/party poison #party poison/pete #gabe/mikey #fun ghoul/kobra kid #fun ghoul/party poison

[txladyj-blog]

Chapter 13 - This Time Around

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 20/?

She could see the light of the moon reflected in his eyes as she stared at him on the porch of his house. It was the middle of the night and she should have been asleep in her fairground fortress but instead, she was standing before Daryl wishing the fury was not fixed on his face as stubbornly as it appeared. Her heart was hammering and her palms were clammy inside her gloves.

“What the hell did you just say?!” He demanded.

Her throat dried up and her words came out as a mere croak, she couldn’t speak properly, couldn’t think straight. He wasn’t asking her to repeat herself, he’d heard her perfectly well, his question was one of disbelief if anything else.

“It-it’s me…Jess.” She whispered. She slowly removed her hood and lowered her mask, finally revealing her face and stepping closer, further into the light from the living room window.

Daryl’s face only grew angrier and more twisted with hurt and betrayal and Jess felt as though her stomach were harboring bricks. She wanted to backtrack, to tell him that it was all some elaborate hoax but that would have made him equally as irate. He inched closer to her, squinting and letting his eyes drag down her body and back up to her nervous face. She swallowed hard.

“What the fuck?!” He spat “All this time…all this time?”

“Yes.” She uttered.

“How could you do this to me?” He asked quietly at first, but with every word, the volume of his voice increased as did Jess’s anxiety “Huh? You think you can just come clean n’ I’ll just forgive ya for bein’ a fuckin’ liar?! Just like that?!”

“I-”

“You bailed! You bailed on me, on all of us and now I find out you’ve been walkin’ ‘round here in this damn Halloween costume the whole time!”

Jess tried to speak, tried to reason with him and explain that she hadn’t planned any of it. She hadn’t planned to find him in the woods with follow him to Terminus, she hadn’t planned to arrange to bring them back here and she also hadn’t planned to be unable to stay away from him. She needed to keep one eye on him, because she still cared about him. So many things to say emerged at a small whimper as tears stung her eyes.

“We were ‘sposed to be friends, Jess.” He stated, now with a calmer rage than before. “But you ain’t no friend of mine. Not after ya left n’ then lied to me when we had a chance to go back to how we were.”

“You’re not innocent either.” She tried. “Please, just let me explain.” She begged.

“Ain’t nothin’ for ya to explain. When ya took me for a damn fool, ya only proved you’re more stupid than ya thought I was. Stay the hell away from me.”

With that, he flung the door open and Jess winced when it was slammed in her face, leaving her alone on the front porch. A loud sob wracked her body, her shoulders sagged and her knees gave way, her body thudding onto the wooden surface. Her hands covered her face, tears pooling around her fingers before racing down her hands, more and more of them pouring from her eyes while her mind flashed back to the Quarry. He threw her a pack of Pens from the RV. He taught her to kill a Walker. He implied her cared about her when she asked him why. With every memory came yet more salty tears and somehow, she wasn’t on the porch anymore. She was thrashing about in icy water, her arms flailing around her and trying to gain some traction to keep her head above the surface. On the shore she could see Daryl, still and watching her. Beside him were baskets of clothes for washing and beating against the rocks. There was a slope, an RV parked at the top. Her lungs filled with water when she began to tire, splutters and coughs did little to alleviate the pressure in her chest.

“D-Daryl” She gasped.

But she was sinking, the Quarry was gone and so was Daryl all that was left was the bottomless blackness and tremendous fear as the last breath of air left her lips.

* * * * * * 

Jess jolted up from her pillow, her hair stuck to her sweat covered face and her chest rising and falling rapidly. She scanned the room in a panic, her hands shooting out and grasping at the sheets either side of her legs. They were real, it was all real and she was alive. She’d been dreaming. Just a dream. Her skin was burning with the adrenaline that was charging through her veins but also from the heat of the room which was acting like an oven. She figured it was considerably later than she usually woke and the sun was much higher in the sky. She raked her fingers through her hair, removing the strands stuck to her face with perspiration.

“Oh, hot damn.” She panted “It’s hotter than a preacher’s knee in here.”

The Morning light slithered through the gaps in the boards on the windows. The sun was unforgiving from mid-morning until well into the afternoon and she preferred to have been out and well into hunting by now. If it hadn’t been for Rick’s group showing up and Daryl walking back into her life, Jess would have gone back to the boat to spend the summer there. A vacation she thought she deserved but would now not be able to take. She sat herself up in bed and picked up a knife from the wooden, vegetable crate nightstand and turned it over in her hands, admiring the glint of the metal when the sunlight hit it. The knife Daryl gave her at the quarry. The knife she used for her first Walker kill. It held so much sentiment, so many memories and with those, a sense of desperate despair for something she lost but never really had in the first place.

She hardly ever used the knife anymore. It lived in her utility belt but was rarely brought out into the light of day unless she had no other choice. She leaned across her bed, dropping it onto her pile of clothes. She would wear it that day, the same as every other. But this time it would feel like it was burning a hole in her belt. It could be the crux, the thing that could spur her on to tell Daryl the truth. Or so she hoped. But if she decided against it, she didn’t have to use it. Her dream had set her back and made her doubt her intentions. There was every possibility that Daryl would react in the worst possible way and a niggling voice at the back of her mind told her that she deserved no less, that it would be a disaster and she was better off sneaking off into the shadows and staying out of his way. In her subconscious, she clearly thought that his anger would be justified and she was on the path to losing him forever.

But the idea of telling him the truth wouldn’t leave her mind, even as she went about her morning, getting dressed and making black coffee. She needed more powdered milk. Maybe she would see Daryl if she went to the pantry, maybe she wouldn’t. Should she seek him out, or leave things to fate? Fate hadn’t always been kind to her but surely, she’d earned a break.

* * * * * 

As luck (or fate) would have it, Jess came across Daryl on her morning hunt. She caught sight of one, toned, bare arm through the trees and crept forwards until she could see him sitting on the floor with his back against a fallen trunk, a cigarette resting between his lips while his hands checked over his crossbow. It was starkly obvious he felt more comfortable outside the walls and he appeared pensive, deep in thought, maybe even sorrowful. She stepped out of her hiding place and he quickly raised his crossbow, the mechanism inside clicking with the movement. Jess held up her empty hands in surrender.

No one spoke as she stood over him but eyes were connected and she liked that he no longer become as hostile towards her, despite her sometimes standoffish attitude. She hadn’t had a weapon pointed in her direction by him for some time and concluded that was a triumph in itself. He got up and dusted his jeans down before collecting his crossbow.

“Mornin’.” he grumbled.

He shot her an uneasy look, as if he didn’t know what to say, his greeting rendered a lie by the tone of his voice. While he wasn’t hostile as such, she could tell that he was put out by her mere presence and that she still annoyed him. She gathered she’d intruded into what was his thinking time. He turned his back, dirty angel wings ready to vanish into the trees.

“Morning. How’s the hunt?” She asked.

“How’s it look to you, Robin Hood?” He snapped, stopping and standing sideways. “Every time I turn around, ya there. Can’t even think without you showin’ up. You keep to the left side; I’ll keep to the right.” He finished his cigarette and flicked it into the undergrowth.

Jess flapped her arms by her sides. It seemed on that particular morning he was still hostile and it was apparent that she could never actually be sure which Daryl she would get on any given day.

“You and Merle are two peas in a pod” She sighed under her breath as she whirled around and made tracks to the ‘left side’ of Alexandria, her ‘side’ that meant he wouldn’t have to see or speak to her while they hunted. At least she would be able to keep an eye out for Enid and maybe even Carl if he was still chasing girls through the woods. It looked as though her knife would stay in its sheath for another day, Daryl’s mood was not one she wanted to worsen and she was more than aware that her revelation might do just that.

“The hell did you just say?”

His voice shot through her head like a bullet and after an initial split second of wondering what he was referring to, her legs suddenly felt like jelly and her stomach filled with bile. It was the same question from her dream…and she had just mentioned his brother’s name. Something she never would have known if she really was a stranger to him.

SHIT.

Her eyes focused on the muddy ground before her, the faded footprints from Daryl’s boots where he’d trudged through earlier than she’d arrived. Her vision lifted to the dense trees ahead and her eyelids slowly closed. She tried to take a breath but her entire chest began to shake, the simple act of an inhalation was now ten times more difficult than usual. She was drowning, just like in her dream.

“Hey!” he shouted. “I’m talkin’ to you! How d'ya know my brother's name?!”

It wasn’t a dream. It was a premonition.

Inch by inch, her body rotated and she found herself faced with a furious and baffled expression that made her panic. He’d closed some of the distance between them, now nearer to her than she’d expected. She searched the corners of her mind to try and come up with a way to deal with the situation in the calm and collection manner she’d become accustomed to. Time passed, she didn’t know how much but Daryl was appearing increasingly annoyed at her lack of response and she concluded that ultimately, the only way out of this was to come clean and to do it with some semblance of confidence. She gradually swept her long coat to one side, revealing her knife holster on her belt. Her fingers plucked the fastening open and she took hold of the blade, flinching when Daryl’s crossbow swept up and he aimed at her head. Jess’s brain went into overdrive.

Say you just knew his brother from somewhere. No, that won’t work. He will want to know how you know it’s Merle. You can’t tell more lies. More lies mean falling deeper and deeper into this deception and it will only get worse. But he’s going to hate you. Not that he cares about you anyway. Or, does he? Do you care about him? Of course, you do, or you’d be at the boat right now. You have no choice. You’re backed into a corner. Do it. Tell him.

She held up her free hand, signaling that she meant no harm and that he should let her continue. Evidently, there was still little trust between them because Daryl lowered the weapon but didn’t disarm himself completely. His finger was still planted firmly on the trigger as he held the bow at his side.

She slid the blade from the leather and her fingers clasped the cool metal of the sharp edge. Holding it aloft, she felt her eyes begin to sting.

“Do- do you remember this?” She asked with a croak. Any attempt to appear composed and confident was fading and fast. What she felt inside was a world away from the boldness with which she wanted to present herself. Below the surface, she was a scared little girl about to confess to the biggest lie she’d ever told to a person that had become important to her regardless of him treating her heart as though it was as empty and worthless as yesterdays can of beans. Whatever her reasons for such a deception, her dream had been a warning of the chance that Daryl would never forgive her.

His brow furrowed as his eyes zoned in on the knife’s handle. He instantly recognized it. Jess could tell, it was written all over his face when it crumpled and he blinked a few times like the sight would morph and change and it’d all be a big mistake.

“I told you an old friend taught me how to fight. He meant a lot to me.” She confessed.

She reached up and pulled her mask away before pushing her hood down. The sunlight hit her hair like a heater, the rays gracing her face and lighting up her skin. It was the first time she’d revealed her true self to anyone since she’d arrived, aside from when Carl had guessed and even then, she kept her disguise in place. It had to be Daryl. He had to be the first to see the face behind the mask because she wanted him to.

She could see the penny drop as he recognized her, his body recoiling in defense and his mouth dropping open.

“Hi” She uttered. “Stinky.”

Her voice was carried on the breeze and now he could hear her as clear as the day. It was Jess’s voice. The woman stood before him wearing elaborate, modified and impressive body armor, the woman who was abrupt, harsh and unapproachable, the mystery woman that he couldn’t get out of his head… was Jess, all along. He’d thought about her every day since she left. Even all those months later she still occupied his musings and he had no idea that she was right in front of him since he left Terminus.

“J-Jess?” He croaked

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Fuck.” He spat upon the exhalation of a breath of disbelief “Fuck.”

Jess swallowed hard when it occurred to her that his reaction was the one that she’d expected the least. She re-holstered the knife that had started it all. The first weapon she’d acquired in the apocalypse and the one that got her through the woods and on her way to her city apartment. The knife he’d given her and made her keep. He blinked rapidly through bloodshot eyes and began to scan the ground, stepping one way, then the other before stopping altogether. Jess held her breath.

Oh, lord.

He ran at her, crashing into her body and forcing her to take a stabilizing step back. A cloud of dust kicked up from the ground where his boots had skidded along the dirt. She thought she felt the exact moment when her heart snapped into two, useless pieces; it was when he whimpered against her shoulder and held onto her so tightly it was as if he was convinced that she would dissipate into nothing in his arms. Initially, she froze and her whole body turned to stone. But the more he clung to her the more her arms lifted slowly and she wrapped her fingers around his shoulder and bicep. Touching him for the first time.

“I thought…” she heard him breathe jaggedly “… thought you were dead”

Unable to speak, she said nothing but felt everything so vividly, the guilt was choking her. She closed her eyes, pushing tears from under the lids. They streamed down her face. She kept telling herself that he led her on and hurt her and that he was lying to her the whole time at the quarry, but it did nothing to quell the biting regret she endured for leaving it this long to reveal who she was.

“Ohmygod” he rasped into the shoulder of her coat. His grip on her was so tight she could feel the desperation seeping from his body into hers.

His fingers were holding her hair in a fist where it pooled in her hood and he was doing the same with a handful of fabric from the back of her coat with his other hand. He had her in a vice like, white knuckle grasp and in that moment, she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He dropped his arms, lifting his head and looked right at her, tears staining his own cheeks as he furiously bit down on his lower lip. She heard his breath catch in his throat and he stepped back, then forward again and rested his head on her shoulder. She reached up, threading her hands into his hair on either side of his head as she watched his body convulse with each breath. She had never touched him this much before, never felt his arms around her and never been able to get so close. It didn’t feel alien, like it was an out of place or new experience. It felt right. As if it was the right thing to do.

Suddenly he tore away from her, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands. Seeing him cry was like taking a razor to her own throat, unbearable guilt and pain raged in her chest.

Stop crying. Please. I wasn’t expecting this. I can’t take it.

His back was facing her and she quickly rid her face of her own tears with the back of her glove. She waited without a word for him to pull himself together, because as something clicked in her head, she realized she knew exactly what he was doing. She prepared herself for the point where relief turned to rage.

“You been lyin’ to me all this time” she heard him mumble before he tilted his head to the sun, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “So, you just bail with no goodbye, then show up over a year later with this cloak n’ dagger shit n’ ya don’t think that maybe I’d wanna know it was you?!”

“I’m telling you now.” She uttered.

“I been here for six fuckin’ weeks, Jess!” He shouted, whirling around and glaring at her with a fury she had anticipated with dread. Jess wasn’t even worried about the potential danger from nearby Walkers attracted to the noise, figuring that Daryl would probably welcome it as a way of venting some of his frustration. She could also use an outlet of some kind. “You been talkin’ to me as if ya don’t even know me! You think I’m some kinda fuckin’ idiot?! Huh?!” He yelled.

“No” she shook her head. “That’s not what-”

“-Ya owe me an explanation here, this is fucked, Jess. It’s fucked!”

“I don’t owe you shit” she hissed out of nowhere. Her own anger was now presenting itself and her defenses were well and truly up. In her dream, she’d done nothing but let him vent in front of her as the Quarry camp Jess would have done. But she’d changed, evolved and built herself up along with constructing her own kingdom and methods of surviving.  

Daryl scoffed and shook his head at her, unable to believe what he was seeing and hearing. The sweet girl from the quarry camp was right there in front of him. The girl he’d thought about every day since she left. The girl he tried to find on two occasions. She was there, only she wasn’t. Not really.

“Who the hell are you? You ain’t the Jess I used to know” he spat.

“I guess all the bullshit just made me stronger.” She mumbled, the confidence she’d tried to display at the start now creeping back. “I didn’t mean to deceive you like I did.” She began to move off, away from him, mapping her escape. “I’d appreciate it if you let me tell the others, in my own time”  

“Fine. I’ll keep your secret. But I deserve to know what the hell happened with us n’ why ya just left me” He demanded.

Jess raised both eyebrows and blinked slowly at the prospect of explaining everything to him. Figuring that if he didn’t already know what he’d done, she wasn’t about to spell it out to him.

“There was no ‘us’ and I didn’t leave you, there was nothing for me to leave.” She reminded him.

“We were ‘sposed to be friends.” He pointed out

“No, we weren’t.” came her stern correction.

She swiped at another stray tear, lifted her hood and mask and removed herself from the situation, leaving Daryl with his rage in the woods.

He didn’t return to Alexandria until dusk that day, staying out in the wilderness to gather his thoughts which were marred with questions and confusion. He couldn’t make sense of any of it. She was the only person that he ever felt a connection to, he still didn’t know the reason why but the fact that she’d been running through his mind for so long, even during her absence proved that she meant something to him. Now, she was different. Her eyes were the same and so was her voice but her body had changed, she was stronger, leaner, more agile. He wondered when her soul had changed, why he was no longer important to her. If he even mattered to her in the first place.

* * * * * 

When the sun was going down, a single flare floated up into the sky, leaving a thin trail of red smoke behind it. Jess heard the crack from inside her diner abode where she had spent the day raging at herself for being unable to stop crying and thinking of nothing but Daryl. How she’d hurt him. How he’d hurt her. She supposed they were even, if it worked that way. She didn’t want to think about how stoic she’d have to seem when she next saw him, especially if it involved other people.

The noise startled her. Loud, almost like a gunshot but right above the building. She checked through the gap between the board and window frame, nothing. A regular, early evening rustling of the trees and a darkening of the woods beyond the fairground. She padded across the room, her bare feet sinking into the thick rug and unlatched the many locks on the door. She ducked her head out of the doorway, squinting up at the sky.

What the hell is…?

Her shoulders tensed and she breathed a deep breath. Alexandria was in trouble.

It wasn’t until the carnage was over that Jess found out what happened behind the walls. Someone had died in their home, turned and managed to break free, infecting everyone they came across and spreading death faster than anyone could have predicted.

Barreling through the gates, she took in the scene before her. To her left, Deanna and some of Rick’s group were ushering the townsfolk into the church to keep them together and safe. People were screaming and crying, holding onto their families tightly and shielding their eyes from the dead people wandering the street. To her right, Abraham was slashing his way through three Walkers with nothing but a metal pipe and a cigar clenched between his teeth. Ahead of her, Rick and Michonne were working together to kill everything dead that emerged from between the houses. Glenn was behind them, tackling his own assailant. At the opposite end of the street, Jess could see Carol, checking the houses for anyone hiding and shining a flashlight through windows. She sprinted ahead, passing Rick and giving him a quick nod with her bow aimed and ready in her hands. She slowed and took heed of the numbers around her. Three with Abraham, three emerging from each side with Michonne and Rick, one with Glenn, none with Carol. Deciding to sweep the perimeter, she ducked down a walkway at the side of Ricks home. Wishing the light was better, she crept along in pursuit of a snarling noise and when the smell hit her, her throat tensed. It was close. She backed against the house, edging closer to the corner where the Walker was dwelling. As she flung herself around the corner and went to release her arrow, she was beaten to it by a bolt flying in her direction. It hit the dead female with a splat and floored her instantly.

Daryl was striding at her, grabbing her arm and bundling her back around the corner. His fingers dug into her arm which would have caused a certain amount of pain had she not been clad in Kevlar.

“You OK?” He asked.

“I’m fine. I just got here. How many more are there?” She said, peering up at him in the shadows over her mask.

“You shouldn’t be here. Go stay with the others in the church.” He ordered, quickly craning his neck around the corner of the building and checking the coast was clear.

“Oh. I see. Now you know who I am, I must need saving. Just like before.” She remarked.

“What? No. It’s just…we got this. You don’t need to be here.” He reasoned.

Jess stared at him, unable to fathom how she automatically had to be vulnerable and in peril because she was the fat nerd from the quarry camp. He’d seen her fight, he’d seen the change in her, yet he had dropped into protective mode nevertheless.

“How noble of you. Protecting the poor, incapable nerd.” She spat.

“What?” He asked. Not only because he didn’t hear her, but also because his attention wasn’t on her, it was on Carol, Rick and Michonne in the street, putting down the last of the Walkers.

“You didn’t hear me? I said fuck you.” Jess proclaimed. She ripped her arm from his grip before charging off and following the dark path around the wall.

Having to stop and calm herself after her confrontation with Daryl, she sank against the side of Deanna’s house and tilted her head up to the sky, closing her eyes and attempting to regain some control over her breathing. She knew she’d overreacted as soon as her heart rate began to settle and her body loosened up. But she still couldn’t believe how he’d jumped straight into protective mode when he’d seen, first hand how she could handle herself. It was like he still saw her as the old Jess. The ‘Little, fat chick’ as Merle had named her.

She was shoved off balance, saved only by her leg stomping on the grass and preventing her from plummeting to the floor. Hands grappled with her body, clawing feverishly with bloodied teeth gnashing at her throat. Her hands quickly raised, grabbing the dead man’s throat and pushing him back with all her might but the warmth in his skin told her he was recently deceased and therefore, stronger than some of the other Walkers. She recognized the crazed face and the cloudy eyes that gawped at her with such hunger. It was the man that lived next door to Aaron and Eric. He had two teenage sons. Having to think quickly, she heaved at his throat with all her might, letting out a loud grunt. He stumbled back long enough for her to snatch the knife Daryl gave her from her belt and slam it into his temple. The noise was sickening, an almighty crack that echoed from the towns walls and the side of the house. The man slumped forwards, pinning her to the wooden slats of the wall and dribbling blood down her clothes. But Jess didn’t care, she tugged the knife out and stayed there with the Walker laying on her, her knife at her side, pooling blood on the floor while her chest rose and fell and her forehead glistened with sweat.

When Alexandria finally became quiet again and Rick was sure there were no stragglers, he re-grouped everyone outside his house. Daryl stood beside Carol and flickered his eyes up to where Jess stood, thinking she wouldn’t notice his subtle observations. But she felt every glimpse like it was a sledgehammer. She knew he’d picked up on the blood on her clothes and hands due to a lack of gloves. Jess remained indifferent and on the sidelines, she was neither a part of Rick’s group or Alexandria’s. She marched to her own band now but decided to stick around and see if she could be of any more help.

Surprising everyone by not being present in the church with everyone else, Carl ran up to his father from inside the house and flung his arms around him. Jess wondered how Rick kept his temper with such a spirited and adventurous son to keep safe as well as a baby.

First I find him outside the walls and now he’s not even in the church. Like hollerin' down a well telling this kid what to do. Jess thought.

“I’ve asked Deanna to keep everyone on lockdown until we can move some of the bodies.” Rick announced after briefly scolding his son for disobeying him.

Carl caught Jess’s eye and mouthed something to her. She knew what it was, there was no mistaking it. 

‘Tell them. Please.’

Keeping up an act was already becoming exhausting and emotionally taxing and that was without Carl’s stubborn streak. Daryl also knew now and that meant her anonymous days were numbered. She hated the thought of no longer being a silhouette without an identity, it was what had kept her alive for so long and allowed her to throw away her old misgivings and fears and become a survivor. She could stitch her own wounds and alone, by herself and in the kingdom she created for herself.

The universe had a funny way of putting things in her path. First, it was dead people that got back up again. Then, it was Daryl. After that, it was the desire and drive to be alone and work hard to better herself. Alexandria was next and it paved the way to her letting a select few people back into her cold and lonely life. Daryl appeared again after that and it just had to mean something. But he’d not shown up alone. The group of people around her turned up again too. Some of them were gone, replaced by new people but every one of them was undoubtedly loyal to the core.

Daryl agreed to keep her secret, to let her carry on living as she was. But he was right, she’d lied to him and after over a year of being alone, she knew she was no longer going to be able to deliver the apology he deserved. Instead, she would cease trying to say the words and use her actions to free him from the constraints of secrets and lies.

Her gaze lingered on Carl’s pleading face and try as she might, she could not ignore him.

She said nothing as she pulled her mask from her face and pushed her hood back.

Daryl was the first to notice her during one of his secret glances. He did a double take and realized that she wasn’t going to make him bear the burden of keeping such a huge secret from the people he cared about. Everyone was about to find out the truth and she felt her stomach grow heavy when he shoots her the most heartbreaking, confused and relieved look. She didn’t know if she could take seeing him cry again and so, hoped with everything she had that he would not do so in front of everyone else.

I wish you never left.

Carol’s eyes swept around the group, eventually landing on Jess. For a moment, she blinked and leaned to the side for a better view before her eyes grew wide and her hands flew up to her face.

“No…it can’t be.” She gasped

Faces turned to her, all of them, all at once. She felt like she was on a stage under spotlights, totally naked and being made to sing the national anthem. Not a shadow any longer, her name was being muttered between everyone.

“Jess?! Is that you?” Carol asked.

“Hi Carol.” Jess whispered.

“Oh my god!” She cried, slapping Daryl’s arm. “Daryl, It’s Jess!”

Daryl’s head was low, his eyes moving from the floor to her face intermittently. His expression was downcast but she could see a glimmer of gratitude when he looked at her.

“I know” He mumbled.

“Wait, you know?” Carol questioned.

“Found out this mornin’.” He told her.

Carol set off, weaving around Michonne and Rick, gently placing her hands on either side of Jess’s face. Her skin burned from the touch as if she was a demon being held by a priest. Physical contact was not something she was used to and she was still reeling from Daryl’s desperate and intense hug in the woods from hours before.

“Oh, Jess.” Carol says “look at you, you’re so different. So…so different.”

Jess didn’t speak, offering only a small smile before she shied away and stepped out of Carol’s embrace. Rick slowly walked around them, rubbing his chin and staring at her in disbelief.

“Hi, Sheriff.” She smiled at him.

“It was you, you helped us get out of Terminus. Helped with the dogs on the road. Got Aaron to bring us here?” He asked.

Jess nodded still feeling like a performing monkey and wanting to shrink away into the darkness and run back to her solitary home at the fairground. But she couldn’t get away, especially when Rick wrapped her in his arms, kissed the top of her head and held her there. She wanted to scream at the contact but appreciated his reason for doing so.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” He uttered before releasing her. “My son, my daughter, all of us. We’re safer because of you.” She could feel her cheeks still burning and wondered if she was blushing or just extremely uncomfortable.

“I couldn’t just leave y’all out there.” She mumbled quietly.

The others presented their own greetings but kept their distance, having never met her officially before and Jess was grateful that she didn’t have to hug anyone else. Everyone swapped glances and Carol took a quick look over her shoulder at Daryl, who was looking at Jess with glassy eyes. He swiped at his nose with the back of his hand and turned on his heels, crashing into the house behind them and slamming the door in a mirror image of his exit in her dream.

“Where have you been?” Glenn wanted to know.

“Around.” She replied, her eyes briefly registering Carl, who was beaming at her from the steps of the front porch. Rick followed her gaze, noting the unsaid message that had passed between them.

Are you satisfied now, kid?!

“Did you know about this?” Rick asked Carl.

Carl shrugged “maybe.”

“Um…” Jess began after clearing her throat. “It wasn’t my intention to deceive anyone. I just want to be left alone. Regardless of how we know each other, the same rule applies. No one is to go near my property without my permission.” She said to Rick, who by now was hanging on every word and was totally shocked at the change in her. “If there’s any more trouble, you can signal me with a flare, just like tonight. They’re kept in the armory. Aside from that, I’d appreciate it if you all just… kept your distance and refrained from discussing my true identity with anyone else. The people here don’t know my name, where I’m from or anything about me. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Of course.” Rick agreed. “Thank you for your help tonight.”

“No problem. I’ll come back in the morning and help get rid of the bodies. Looks like hell with everyone out to lunch in here” She said, motioning to two lifeless Walkers at the side of the road. Then, she calmly walked away, raising her hood again and positioning her mask over her mouth.

* * * * * 

Inside the house, Carol found Daryl in the kitchen, braced against the kitchen counter at the sink with his head low and his hair obscuring his face. She sighed at the sight. Daryl rarely opened up to anyone and when he did, it was always her, the two of them having shared similar backgrounds and understanding what it was like to fight, even before the world went away. Carol understood his inner conflict like no one else and as a result, knew how to handle him when he was showing signs of lashing out or distancing himself from everyone.

His hasty and dramatic departure had been witnessed by the rest of the group and they all knew without having to be told that Carol would be the one to deal with the simmering archer. She moved further into the room, taking a glass from the cupboard and approaching him, reaching around him to access the tap. He moved off like an angry animal that was being disturbed in its lair. Carol filled the glass and brought it to her lips, grateful for the luxury of having running water after such a chaotic evening.  She could see he was reeling despite already having found out about Jess that morning. She observed him wander the length of the kitchen island before he stopped and met her eye. She offered him a sympathetic look.

“Quite the bombshell.” She pointed out.

“Yep.” He grunted, crossing his big arms over his chest.

“Especially for you. Are you alright? She wanted to know.

He didn’t know the answer to her question. He wasn’t sure if he was ‘alright’ or not. His head was still spinning and his chest was still tight, the confusion was still present and only worsened by her decision to tell the others the truth. He expected to have to carry the burden of such a huge secret for much longer and on the one hand he was grateful to her for him not having to endure it. But, on the other, he was furious at being lied to.

“I dunno.” He admitted honestly.

Carol took another sip from her glass and climbed up onto a stool at the island. She delicately placed the glass on the surface and kept her fingertips poised around it.

“Talk to me. Tell me how you feel.” She urged with the knowledge that unless she asked him directly, he was unlikely to disclose much at all. Since the beginning, there was no doubt that he was more forthcoming with his feelings, but he was still very much a closed book and unless he was encouraged in the right way, he would only retreat into himself until he boiled over at someone unsuspecting and undeserving.

“I’m pissed. I’m real fuckin’ pissed.” He confessed.

To her surprise, he also settled on a stool opposite her and leaned his elbows on the marble countertop with his hands clasped together. It was almost like he was telling her that he didn’t want to discuss it, but he needed to.

“Understandable.” She replied.

“But I’m happy she’s alive.” He continued “Seein’ her again…the way she is. It’s weird. She ain’t the same.”

Carol half smiled at his obvious observation of Jess’s evolution and his complete ignorance of his own. He had matured, developed a better handle on his temper, used his logic and intuition to help Rick make some tough decisions and earned the respect and trust of everyone in the group. She was proud of his journey and wished he could see it as she did.

“Neither are you. Neither are any of us.” She reminded him.

“You saw her.” He argued with the flick of one hand “She’s got Jess’s face but that’s it.”

“You don’t know that, Daryl. She’s protecting herself. She’s been doing that for a long time without us now. She might come around if you talk to her.” She suggested with a strong desire to see him try and build a bridge between them. It was no secret that he was devastated when Jess left the Quarry, his pain and determination to find her was plain for all to see and if there was even just a small chance that they could mend their tattered friendships, then she thought it was well worth it.

“Doubt it. She fuckin’ hates me” He scoffed.

“What? I’m sure that’s not true.” She expressed

“She lied to me for weeks, Carol. Weeks. She could have told me who she was. Instead, she acted like I was some stranger.”

His behavior was now considerably more subdued and his aggression was now translating to a sadness that Carol couldn’t stand to see. During a long pause in conversation which was more a chance for the both of them to collect their thoughts than anything else, Carol remembered the incident in the woods when Jess found herself at the end of a gun held by Daryl.

“No wonder she was so calm when you pointed that gun at her.” She mentioned.

“What d’ya mean?”

“She knows you. She knew you wouldn’t just shoot her like that. Not without a reason.” She concluded.

Daryl reached into his jeans pocket and retrieved his lighter. It clicked and clinked as he turned it over between his fingers, lighting it over and over as he attempted to clear his head. Carol watched on, growing slightly concerned when he began to run his fingers through the flames and letting them linger there a little too long.

“Daryl” She scolded lightly. His eyes shot up to hers and he flicked the lighter closed, enclosing it in his fist.

“Wish she never left” He muttered.

Carol proceeded with caution, now he was really talking and such an event couldn’t be forced or it would never present itself again. The conversation would be over and any chance she had at getting him to expel his real feelings would be long gone.

“Daryl, you know better than most that in his world, we adapt or we die. You and I adapted. Jess adapted, very well by what I can see. Give it time. Be patient. What is it that you want to say to her? What do you want her to know?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“I do.” She smiled bravely, all the while hoping deep down that he would trust her enough to answer her. He peered at her through his hair, his eyes questioning exactly what she thought she knew, but she kept quiet and patiently sipped her drink.

“I dunno if I did somethin’…or didn't do somethin’ when I was ‘sposed to” He said, his voice barely a whisper. When she looked back at him, his eyes were cast down at the countertop between his forearms. “Liked havin’ her around, y’know? She just…made stuff easier. I aint no idiot, I know I was a shitty friend. But I thought about her every day since she bailed.”

There it was, what Carol had been waiting for. It wasn’t the precise words she knew he really meant, but it was as close as he was going to get and she had enough to work with.

“That girl meant something to you. We all saw how badly you took it when she left. You could have died looking for her. I might even be as bold as to suggest that you had feelings for her. Feelings that went beyond friendship and you just didn’t know it at the time. I think…” She trailed off, gauging his reaction which so far, was still collected and subdued. “…I think you should tell her that you missed her.”

“That ain’t gonna happen.” He quickly dismissed. A feat too tall for his withdrawn and quiet personality.

“It will. Like I said, give it time.” She remarked with a knowing smile. As he observed her confidence in her beliefs, the corner of his mouth quirked up at the thought of her always being right and how she reveled in it.

“Whatever.”

* * * * * 

Jess made herself scarce from Alexandria for the next two days after offering to fetch some supplies from the nearest town which boasted a large gardening store. She borrowed a truck and found that once she’d filled it with everything on Deanna's list, she had little desire to return anytime soon. She settled down on a luxurious, swinging chair with deep padding and enough room for her to stretch her legs and gently swayed from side to side, watching the high, industrial ceiling swing from left to right. Aside from two Walkers outside in the lot, the entire store was empty and the silence was only broken by the subtle squeak of the chair’s hinges.

The group knowing who she was did nothing to calm the rampant inferno of confusion that seemed to grow with each though of Daryl that passed through her mind and she was still conflicted, torn between hearing his side and ignoring him altogether. The look in his eyes, his intense embrace and the soul shattering whimper against her shoulder was urging her to try talking to him, but she didn’t know if there was a point or if she would ever be able to forgive him for proving her insecurities to be correct. She wasn’t anything to anyone, she was just a girl.

It was dark when she woke, her bones weary with the heaviness of sleeping during the day. She groaned and rubbed her eyes as she sat up. Her backpack contained items she wouldn’t be without no matter what the circumstances, one of those items was a flashlight. She quickly found it in the pitch-black bag and clicked it on, shining it around her, over the shelves and into the gaps between aisles. Luckily, she still appeared to be alone.

She got to her feet, flung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the smashed bottom pane in the main door. Ducking outside into the lot, she noticed the numbers of walkers had increased to around a dozen. She stilled before any of them saw her and slowly crept towards the waiting truck which was around 500 yards to her left.

Walkers acted like dominoes, when one noticed movement the rest tended to follow with a knock-on effect that could be catastrophic. The nearest walker to Jess, only a few feet away reached out and took hold of her backpack, slinging her backwards and colliding her with the asphalt. Her flashlight skittered over the ground and adrenaline shot through her. She quickly grabbed her knife from her belt as the Walker loomed over her, blobs of sticky, lumpy blood precariously hanging from its festering mouth like fruit from a tree. One of which dropped with a splat onto her forehead. She jabbed the blade at the Walkers head only to find that it appeared to dodge out of the way. It’s growls and bubbling throat and chest made her stomach flip and she rolled over, breaking free of its bony fingers on her shoulder and managing to scurry up onto one knee. It surged at her, snapping its jaws and dislodging a front tooth which rolled out and tinkled on the ground beside Jess’s knee.

“Ew” she breathed as she readied her knife again. With all her might she plunged the blade into its skull, surprised at how spongy it was. This one had to have been dead for a while, the longer they wandered around as corpses, the softer their bones became until eventually their limbs gave out and they had no choice but to crawl. The Walker dropped to reveal five more that were closing in on her. She scrambled backwards, the heels of her boots propelling her across two spaces of the lot.

Shit. Ohshitohshitohshit.

She leapt up and scooped up her flashlight just in time to avoid the grasp of more undead fingers while she dashed to the truck, throwing open the door and climbing inside, finally able to put a barrier between her and the Dead ones.

Jess could handle herself but being in such close proximity to walking mounds of rotten flesh still gave her chills. Especially when she considered that they used to be just like her. With working lungs and hearts and brains. With families and friends and lovers. Ok, maybe not exactly like her but five out of six wasn’t bad. It was sad, but it also made her nauseous and she was certain that if she was ever cursed with the trauma of being bitten, she would sooner shoot herself in the head than become one of them.

She started the truck to the sound of the Walkers hammering on the glass and groaning at her. She put the vehicle in gear, flipped them the bird and raced off into the night.

* * * * * 

Not a lot of things were convenient in the apocalypse. Food was scarce, as were weapons, ammo and medicine. The seasons were harsh and Walkers roamed all of the potentially fruitful spots for supplies. Humans were becoming more depraved and even more dangerous than the dead and those that failed to evolve with the harsh changes of the world, perished. No, nothing was convenient, except Daryl being on gate duty just as Jess rolled through in her truck filled with gardening supplies.

Two days had passed and he’d not seen a hint of her since she’d revealed her identity to the group. Carol’s words stayed with him, her suggestion that he should try and talk to her, give it time and she might come around. He was mad at her, there was no question about that. But, more than anything, he just wanted some answers.

He closed the gate behind her as she climbed from the truck, her mask and hood were up but he could make out blood smeared on her face and his chest swelled with concern. Now he knew who she was, he couldn’t help but care no matter how much he didn’t want to.

“Hey.” He called out as he approached her. She leaned against the closed door of the truck and fiddled with her gloves, tugging them off and stuffing them in her pocket. He noticed in the light of the solar bulbs that lined the street that the knife he’d given her was also coated in dark blood and had stained her tight, faded, black jeans. She looked up at him over her hood, her blue eyes meeting his. “Y’alright?” He asked as he motioned to the smeared blood on her forehead.

“Yeah. Just Walkers.” She dismissed casually.

He nodded, temporarily glancing at the ground while he thought out how out of the blue his questions might sound. But she was there, in front of him in the middle of the night with no one else around. If he was going to ask, now was as good a time as any.

“Where ya been, Jess?”

“At the Garden store a few miles west.” She mumbled back. He didn’t notice until he raised his vision but she was checking over a list in her hand.

“I mean before. When ya bailed.” He corrected.

Jess’s eyes lifted and she side glanced at him, looking him up and down and wondering why he’d decided to ask her such questions there and then.

“Around” she replied, the same, standard answer she’d offered the others. She pushed herself from the trucks door and wandered around the side, rummaging through the full flatbed and checking things against the list.

“Why won’t ya talk to me? Ain’t seen ya in, what…over a year?” He asked sadly. His voice sent guilt through her heart like a spear and she fought not to cry again.

“Eighteen months” she corrected. “And I don’t know what you want me to say.” She turned to head back to the truck cab but he stepped in, blocking her path. She huffed in irritation and stared at the toes of her boots.

“Get out of my way.” She uttered.

“Take the mask off.” He requested. “Please.”

“No.” She refused.

“Ain’t nobody here. Just you n’ me. Take the mask off. Just for a minute.”

He needed to see her, needed to be able to see that it really was Jess he was talking to because everything about her screamed that she’d discarded her old life and personality entirely. Little did he know that she was still there, deep down, terrified of exposure and rejection. She agreed that he deserved an explanation, she just wasn’t sure if she was up to offering one at that point. She needed space and time to think things over and decide what she wanted. Being forced to communicate was only making her more anxious. But what she could do, was afford him this one small request. She moved her mask down to her neck and peered up at him. His face seemed to soften at the sight of her own and she saw his shoulders drop.

“Why’d you go?” He croaked.

It was akin to the moment he’d whimpered against her shoulder. Emotional, sincere and hurt. She wasn’t expecting it and it hit her like a train. She needed to leave before she broke down and she resented him for it. For a year and a half she’d learned to stop crying, that crying got a person nowhere when she had no choice but to suck it up and carry on and in the last week all she’d done was cry. That was Daryl’s fault.

“I can’t talk about this right now.” She whispered.

“But you will, right?” He asked

“I don’t know.” She pulled her mask back up. “Please, step aside.”

“Jess-“

“-Get out of my fucking way.” She spat, her eyes filling with anger.

Shocked and frustrated, he simply moved to one side and let her storm past him and get back into the truck where she held back tears until she was far enough along the road and around a corner to let them escape.

* * * * * 

When morning came around once more, Jess walked through the gate carrying a plethora of small animals and the key for the truck she’d borrowed the day before. After dropping the animals off at the pantry, she made tracks to Deanna's front steps where, to her surprise she found Carol sitting at the porch table with a plate of cookies on the surface in front of her. Jess paused when she noticed her, mid way up the steps and awkwardly positioned before she carried on and slowed when she reached the door. Carol’s face was displaying a bright smile as she slid the plate from the table and held it out.

“Cookie?”

Jess hadn’t seen a decent looking cookie in a very long time and her stomach, although reasonably full from breakfast, vibrated slightly at the thought. She almost accepted before she remembered that enjoying that simple pleasure would mean removal of her mask and the potential for passers by to see her.

Clever. She thought. But not clever enough.

“No, thank you.” She politely declined. “What are you doing here?”

“Just got out of a very nice meeting with Deanna. She told me to come and go as I please, so I’m doing just that. Care to join me?” She said breezily.

Her manner was a little too happy for Jess’s liking and she immediately became suspicious of some kind of trap.

“I can’t. I have shit to-“

“Oh, just sit down, Jessica.” Carol scolded through her teeth.

Feeling like a child that had thrown a tantrum and been told off using her full first name, Jess sheepishly sank down into a chair. Even though curiosity had killed the cat, it had got the better of her this time. Across the street, Daryl approached Rick who was busy hauling fertilizer around the vegetable patch. Jess looked up and clocked his presence, quickly diverting her eyes and licking her lips at the plate of cookies instead. They appeared tinted red and purple and she wondered what could possibly be in them to turn them that color. Berries of some kind?

Cherry, maybe? Mmm, Cherries.

“He said you won’t talk to him.” Carol blurted out but with a quiet confidence that snapped Jess out of her food daydream.

OK, we’re really going to sit here and talk about this?!

“I don’t have anything to say to him.” She retorted.

“Jess, you were best friends.” Carol reminded her which only served to prod at her temper and she sprang up from her seat, slapping a hand on the glass tabletop.

“Were we?!” She hissed, “Where was he when I needed him? Hmm?”

Carol was taken aback but such an aggressive turn in Jess, but wasn’t afraid. She’d evolved just as much as the woman before her and was sure that if pushed she could be just as cold and distant herself.

“He’s different now. Just like you. It’s like he was a child before… now, he’s a man.” She noticed Jess glance over her shoulder at Daryl, who was now helping rick by carrying a heavy bag of soil over his shoulder. When she moved her gaze back to the porch, her eyes fell back onto the table and to the plate of cookies. “Give him a chance. You’ll see he’s changed. Please.” Carol added.

“It’s complicated. You don’t know anything about it. I appreciate what you’re trying to do but you’re wasting your time. It’s not just black and white and I’ve worked hard to keep my life as simple and pain free as possible and what have you put in those cookies to make them go that color?”

Carol was confused, her train of thought thrown off with Jess’s bizarre question.

“Uh… beets.” She stammered.

“Huh. Beets. Right.” Jess replied. She reached out, took a cookie and in a split second she had vanished into Deanna's house.  

Standing in the empty hallway with her back to the front door, she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She knew in her heart that she had to face him at some point. They were practically neighbors with her fairground abode less than a mile away and their similar skills meaning they were bound to be put together for hunting, supply runs and the like by Deanna. Jess didn’t really know what to do past hiding in her home and burying her head in the sand, but she was smart enough to accept that civility might be the least that could be expected of her. She had no plans to pick up a friendship ever again, her solitary lifestyle proving more than ideal both for her physical safety and her emotional stability. But the sting of loneliness succeeded in distracting her during dark, cold nights and every single time she thought of Daryl. Maybe if she just spoke to him and tried to clear the air, things would be easier overall.

* * * * * 

Daryl had just passed Judith back to her father after a brief spell of her sitting on his knee and looking utterly compelled by everything he said to her. He told her about his first truck, how his brother had taught him to fish and drink shooters for hours in bars. He told her that one day, if Rick would let him, he’d teach her to fish too. He figured that hunting information was a little too much for a soul so young and figured he would leave it until she was at least old enough to hold a crossbow without falling over before he taught her how to kill a deer.

It was becoming a nightly habit. He would sit quietly with Judith and think about the day. Sometimes he’d read to her, sometimes he’d just talk quietly. He knew it was more than he would ever say to any adults, but Judith didn’t judge or answer back. She listened with such interest that he sometimes wondered if she would remember what he told her when she grew up. He liked having a kid around. Carl was getting older and more independent, thinking he knew everything yet still being vulnerable enough to need looking after. He was at an age where he could easily repeat things he heard, but Judith didn’t.

He lit a cigarette and reclined in the squeaky chair and watched the smoke expelled from his lungs billowing up into the night. The stars were out, bright and twinkling. If it wasn’t for the snarling beyond the walls from the nightly encroachment of Walkers, it would have been a peaceful and visually appealing night.

He was halfway through his smoke when movement in the night caught his eye and he did a double take at Jess, who stood at the bottom of the porch stairs with her hood and mask up. Her eyes glistened under the light of the single bulb which flowed above the door. She seemed to manifest out of nowhere and by that point, he’d figured that it was one of her most honed skills. She was silent as the night, until she wasn’t and that was only when it suited her.

“Hi” She said quietly at the same time as fiddling with her fingers and dropping her gaze.

“Hey.” He grunted.

Daryl wondered what she was even doing in the same proximity as him, but he wasn’t about to ask. He considered Carol’s advice once more and decided he may as well give in to his curiosity and see what she was doing at the foot of the steps to his house after dark.

“Do you have a minute?” She asked.

“What’s it look like?” He snapped without thinking. When the words left his lips, he immediately regretted the tone, hearing it laced with anger and bitterness. “I mean, I ain’t exactly busy. Have a seat.” He corrected his inconvenienced emphasis and nudged his head up at the empty seat across the table from him.

She hesitated, one foot on a journey to accept his invitation and the other rooted to the ground. Telling herself she wouldn’t have to stay long anyway, she accepted and slipped into the seat.

“There’s something I should tell you.” She started. His eyes lifted from the now almost finished cigarette between his fingers. “I found Merle in Atlanta.”

He glared at her. She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. His brother told him where she was. His message through Michonne urged Daryl to go to the City and find Jess. It said more than that too, but he was not about to let on that Merle had given away anything other than her location.

“I know.” He responded bluntly.

“He found you,” she stated with a nod of understanding.

“Yeah. He found me.” He echoed.

Merle obvious absence spoke volumes, as did Daryl’s downcast expression at the mere mention of his brother’s name. He wasn’t there for the same reason some of the others from the Quarry were absent.

“I’m sorry, about whatever happened to him.” She offered sincerely.

“Don’t be. Ain't your fault” he told her. He stubbed out his smoke in a glass dish in the centre of the table. His snappy demeanour apparently vanishing as fast as the smoke in the air.

She felt the need to explain how she’d found him, for some reason thinking that information volunteered would somehow make things easier for him. It was still there, she still cared about him.

“I found him in a camping store in the city. Almost bled out. Delirious.” She began “Took him in and stitched him up. He always said he would leave when he could, to find you. He wasn’t the best house guest and he certainly had no manners.”

He raised an eyebrow before sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and nibbling on it.

“Ya didn’t have to help him.”

“Couldn’t just walk away and let him die.” She admitted. “I knew how much he meant to you.”

The last part of her sentence was unintentional and she’d aimed to think it instead of actually say it. But there it was, as plain as day. If he didn’t know she cared about him before, he certainly did now.

“Thank you” He expressed as he tried to make eye contact. Jess avoided his attempt and swallowed hard, staring down into her lap.

“No problem.” She whispered.

A long silence proceeded to engulf them both in an almost unbearable awkwardness that felt like a lifetime when it was merely a few minutes. Jess remembered the days when they could sit side by side in quiet understanding without having to fill the gaps with unnecessary chit chat. So unbearable was it that Jess was seconds away from springing up from her seat and leaving.  

“He told me where to find ya.” Daryl informed her.

“Huh. Of course, he did.” Jess scoffed knowingly.

“Said I should go after ya. I found your apartment. Why the city?” He wanted to know.

She realized there and then that he went out of his way to track her down in the city from Merles information. She knew he might, but knowing he actually did still surprised her and made her question everything she thought to be true. It was months between Merle leaving and Jess abandoning her apartment, even longer since she left the quarry camp. She couldn’t be sure if he got her note or not, but he was definitely looking for her after a considerable amount of time had passed.

“Um, well… all the people left, so it belongs to the Walkers now. Learn how to deal with them, use them to your advantage and the city is your oyster. Everybody leaves so suddenly; it means there’s supplies everywhere. Eventually, a group came through that I didn’t like the look of, so I left and stayed in the woods. Lived on a boat for a while. Then, I found the fairground.”

It was the most she’d said to him since she appeared in his life again and the sound of her voice through her mask was so different it was like talking to a stranger. She’d not only felt the need to hide her voice, she was also hiding her personality, her sense of humor and the essence of who she really was. That was, if there was anything left.

“You can fight now. How’d ya get so good?” He asked.

She wasn’t expecting to still be sitting with him at all, let alone having to answer questions. But he was probing for a good reason, she was aware that he was interested in her time away and how far she’d come. She just didn’t think he cared enough to ask about it.

“I can fight Walkers.” She corrected, making him aware that she wasn’t proficient in the art of grappling with live humans. “It was me and them, for a long time. A city full of wandering corpses makes for great practice. Then there’s the hunting and general survival skills I knew I had to have if I were ever forced to move out of Atlanta. There’s a lot of reading material in abandoned bookstores. I learned a lot while I was there.” She explained, hazarding a small glimpse of him and seeing his eyes dragging over her clothing and weapons.

“Turned up lookin like Rambo too.” he mentioned.

Now, she looked at him properly, their eyes meeting across her mask. He hadn’t changed much, not that she could see. He was more mature, more grounded but still Daryl. Still with the same sense of toeing the line and making fun of her. She found herself trying not to laugh, holding back a huge part of herself that just rushed out when she saw the corner of his mouth quirk up.

“Can kick your ass like Rambo if you don’t find someone more feminine to liken me to.” She quipped.

His lips curled further into a smile and behind her mask, Jess fought not to mirror him.

“Still got ya attitude” he pointed out.

It was news to her. Apparently, she did and he was the one to bring it out in her

“You still have yours too.” She shot back as she got up and walked back to the steps, her heavy boots clunked along the wooden flooring and she struck quite the intimidating figure, but Daryl knew the girl inside and he hoped that some semblance of her was still there.

“Goodnight” she uttered as she descended the steps and walked off into the darkness.

“Night, Jess.”

Now, he could use her name. The girl under the disguise.  

* * * * * 

Glenn perched on the trucks hood, picking berries from a tree branch and shoving them into his mouth. He wasn’t taking a risk, Daryl had been forthcoming with ensuring the group only ate what he said was safe, and everything in moderation. Jess leaned against the wheel arch with a map open in her hands after traipsing through an entire town looking for Veterinary Hospital that didn’t seem to exist. Their fruitless trip so far had been nothing but a major inconvenience.

“You sure you saw it?” She pressed as she craned her back at him and held a hand above her eyes to shield them from the sun.

“A hundred percent. I just can’t remember where.” Glenn confessed as he threw the last of the berries into his mouth and threw the stick away.

“Helpful.” Jess murmured. “I’ve never ventured out this way before. Too many people, not enough animals.”

Glenn squinted down at her as she flapped the map in her hands, straightening its corners.

“People?” He asked

“Undesirables.” She murmured. “We have to be careful.”

“Oh. Sure.”

She circled an area of the map with her finger, mainly to herself and only half interested in Glenn’s attention. “Should check here. It’s the only area we haven’t covered in a five-mile radius. It’s got to be there.”

Glenn agreed and began checking over his gun, making sure it was fully loaded. Jess turned her body and leaned her elbows on the hood, re-strapping her gloves and pushing her hood down for the time being. With it only being the two of them, her worries about revealing herself were now non-existent and Glenn knowledge of who she was had given her a huge sense of relief. Being able to go on a run without the worry of him figuring her out was a new and enjoyable kind of peace.

“Where did y’all go? When you left the Quarry?” she asked out of the blue.

He hesitated before answering her, the answer backing up in mind as he rifled through all the things that they’d been through since the Quarry, the people they’d lost and the terrible ways they’d died. It wasn’t easy and sometimes he wondered how they’d got so far but over time and through their shared trauma, they’d become a family. He’d become something else too, one half of a pair with Maggie. The woman of his dreams and he couldn’t help but smile when he remembered how she’d propositioned him in the middle of an abandoned store and ever since their relationship had grown into something he never would have anticipated.

“We tried the CDC. That was a disaster.” He said “One guy left and he blew himself and the building to pieces. Then we stayed on the Greene’s farm. Maggie’s dad owned it. Herd came through, pushed us out of there. Then, we ended up at a prison. We were there for a while. Until some psycho came along and tried to take the place. A lot of people died. We all got split up and that’s how we were reunited…in the worst way, at Terminus.”

Jess held his gaze for a few moments as she contemplated how their numbered had depleted but were replaced by new faces and yet they were still such a tight-knit group. She figured they had Rick to thank for that after witnessing the way he led his people through the gate of Alexandria for the first time with Daryl at his side.

“You guys have been through a lot” She stated.  

“Guess we have, Yeah.” He agreed thoughtfully. “But then again, everybody has, right? You have too.”

Jess didn’t think she’d fought anywhere near the kinds of battles Rick’s group appeared to have survived. She wasn’t without her own difficult memories, but most of those consisted of being alone and having to adapt to fighting Walkers and avoiding detection by other survivors. She’d faced more of an internal war than a physical one, born out of using stealth and cunning to avoid having to engage in actual fighting any more than was necessary. When she did kill the living, it was inevitable and got shoved to one side to enable her to carry on with life at the end of the world.

“Not really.” She disagreed “Keeping out of sight was how I lasted this long. Can’t be robbed, raped or killed if nobody knows you exist.”

“What if you’re discovered by chance?” Glenn argued.

She met his eye, a knowing look exchanged between the two of them. It didn’t need to be voiced that both of them were forced to do things they would never be proud of.

“Then you do what you have to do” She uttered.

Glenn nodded sadly before attempting a risky move.

“Why did you run? From the Quarry” he questioned.

She knew she would face such a question from nearly all of them at some point, her assumption was that it would be Daryl that was the first to ask had been correct, but Glenn being next happened a little quicker than she thought. What she hadn’t quite decided on, was how she was going to answer it. Should she be completely honest, or sugar coat the truth and skirt around the real reasons? She felt overwhelmed, pushed out, betrayed and like she was a mere burden that would never fit in.

“A lot of reasons.” She mumbled. “I ran away to save myself. I needed to lose who I was”

A spell of silence passed between them as Glenn tried to make sense of her response. Jess could feel his disagreement as if it were a weight on her shoulders. He shuffled closer on the hood and slid his gun back into its holster. A loud sigh was followed by a quick scan of the area they were parked in. All still quiet and safe enough.

“The people you loved that are gone…they helped to make you who you are. If you lose that, you lose the last bit of them that’s still around inside, who you are is gone…but so are they.” He told her, feeling her eyes locked on him, her brow furrowed as if surprised by his sudden philosophical take on things. “It’s how you lose people all over again, even after they’re gone. You honor them by carrying on, because they don’t get to”

The conversation was veering into a territory that Jess was no longer comfortable with. She didn’t want to be forced to stare her decisions in the face and dissect her train of thought and reasons for arriving at them. While she couldn’t say that Glenn was wrong, the idea that she’d lost everyone she’d loved for good due to her own actions wasn’t one she wanted to entertain. They were still there, in her heart, in her soul. Or were they?

“So, Carol got split from everyone else?” She queried, shamelessly changing the subject.

“Actually no. She was already on the outside on her own for a while. I’ll let Rick or Carol explain it themselves one day. Along with everything else that happened at the prison. But let’s just say we really appreciate what you two did. That place… was like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” He mused, the flicker of fear in his eyes evident upon his reminiscence of his time at Terminus.  “I couldn’t stand the thought of Maggie dying in that hell hole. I’m glad it was me they almost killed. She didn’t deserve to go through that.” He added.

Jess said nothing, too wrapped up in the thought of being so in love and attached to someone that you would die to save their life. It was a completely alien concept to her, except for the likes of her family, she wasn’t sure there would ever be anyone else she would risk her life for. Then, she remembered the time she spent following Daryl through the woods with a group of men she didn’t trust one, single ounce, the people she murdered inside Terminus and the ferocity of her rage which she used to demand his whereabouts. She refused to leave until she knew he was safe and then it occurred to her; she would have died at Terminus. She would have died for Daryl.

“Where’d you get all the gear? The body armor. Looks like high-grade stuff.” Glenn interrupted, scattering her revelatory thoughts.

“Uh…” She grunted, having to take a deep breath and ignore the fact that she’d just discovered the actual extent of her fondness for the man that broke her heart. “Mostly dead Cops and Soldiers. Needed a little cleaning up here and there. Found some stuff in gun stores too, most were picked clean but one or two had the good stuff strapped to the dead owners”

“Nice. It looks good.” He smiled.

“Thanks, but It’s not about how it looks. It’s got to be practical. I can move around and none of it makes a sound. So, I can hunt and travel undetected and still remain nothing but a shaded movement in somebody’s peripheral vision. If anything bites me, it’s got to have pretty sharp teeth to break the barrier too.” She informed him with a certain degree of pride in herself. It was trial and error, endless days testing fabric and different levels of armor using sharp objects and creeping around groups of Walkers.

“We could really use this kind of thing for runs. Think you could find more?” he asked

“Probably.” She shrugged. “One thing at a time though. Let’s get this equipment first.”

He slithered down from the hood and slapped the surface with a grin as he rounded the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. Jess settled beside him and frowned when he pressed ‘play’ on the CD player. Music filled the cab and she rolled her eyes, looking out at the rapidly passing houses on the side of the street.

* * * * * 

Despite their conversation on the porch of his house, Daryl’s efforts to engage Jess in any more conversation in the coming days fell victim to her insistence to be left alone. He grew more and more frustrated with every instance that he witnessed her chatting away carelessly to others. She still laughed with Abraham and even joined him on gate duty. Aaron was treated to discussions while sat on the wall outside of the armory and even Glenn earned himself an enthusiastic handshake and some kind of mocking dig that couldn’t be heard upon returning from a run with her one evening. It seemed everyone else but Daryl was allowed to be around her and it angered him so much that one night, he decided that he needed to do something about it.

After seeing her playfully slap Abraham’s big arm as they spoke at the side of the road, she bid him farewell and ambled slowly to the gate, nodding at the guard. It was early evening and the sun was going down, the time of year dictating that one minute it was light and the next, flashlights were needed to light the way and the rapid change was almost unnoticeable. The sky glowed with pinks and purples and small birds were still singing in the trees when Daryl dashed out of the gap in the gate and surged after Jess.

She walked slowly, adjusting her bow on her back and calmly glancing around at her surroundings. She liked this time of the day, much like the early morning’s it always seemed to be peaceful and still no matter what horrors were unfolding across the world. It was a nice escape, even if it was only temporary. Her boots crunched over the dirt and she began to hum tunefully to herself. A Beatles song.

“Jess”

Daryl’s voice shot out of the serenity like an arrow and shattered her illusions of an enjoyable walk back to her home. She huffed, her jaw clenching and her body turning to him slowly.

“What do you want, Daryl? Just leave me alone.” She sighed.

His trespassing into her alone time was akin to him walking right into the fairground and making himself at home in her eyes. She had admitted who she was and now she just wanted to be allowed to observe things from the fence without getting involved with anyone or anything that would mean anchoring herself emotionally. But Daryl quite obviously had other ideas and wasn’t satisfied with her terms.

“Why you gotta be such a bitch, huh?!” He snapped.

She shifted her weight and crossed her arms, looking him dead in the eye.

We’re name-calling. Mature. There’s the old Daryl.

“I am being perfectly fucking civil.” She replied mockingly, a sarcastic smile emerging on her lips behind her mask. It occurred to Daryl that if he couldn’t see her face, he couldn’t judge her reactions to be truthful.

“Take it off.” He demanded, gesturing with a hand to her face.

“No.” She refused.

“Take the mask off.” He tried once more.

“Why?” She asked.

“You n’ I, we’re gonna have a conversation and I ain’t talkin’ to no mask. Don’t make me take it off myself ‘cause I will n’ you know it”

Aggression and testing her resolve were fast becoming the only way he could get through to her and get her to comply and he wondered when she developed such a strong will and courage to rival his own. If he was honest with himself, her bravery impressed him regardless of it being so far from the Jess he used to know. She needed it to stay alive and it seemed to be serving her well, even though it meant they locked horns.

Jess gave in and opted to endure whatever he wanted to talk about mainly because she wanted it over with, but also because there was a different side to her story that she was interested in hearing. She flicked her mask down with one swift movement while the rest of her body stood completely rigid and angry. Her vision was narrowed, her eyes dark and unimpressed.

“What the hell happened to you? We were friends and now ya won’t even look at me.” He asked.

She moved closer, standing inches from his face and not showing an ounce of fear. She was defensive but challenging and he wanted to step back and observe this drastic change in her properly. She was no longer a shrinking violet, her confidence in the face of confrontation had come out of nowhere. The Jess from before would have said her piece but backed right off. This woman had a grudge and Daryl knew now that he was at the center of it.

Jess spoke clearly and deliberately her eyes not wavering from his for even a second.

“I was ‘just a girl’. I didn't mean shit to you’. Isn’t that right, Daryl?” She hissed

A flashback hit him like a bus. He was standing with Merle on the slope to the water back at the Quarry. It was dark, he could hear the waves lapping against the shore. Merle was mocking him for catching feelings. He rubbished his claims with a single sentence. One that unbeknownst to him at the time, Jess heard every word and it changed everything. Destroyed something good, something meaningful. Something he missed everyday.

She heard me. Shit. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean what I said.

He stepped away from her, sighing loudly and rubbing his eyes with his thumb and finger on one hand. Jess seethed in front of him, her hurt and pain now simmering just under the surface after the words being repeated for the first time. It all came rushing back, all the old feelings of being rejected and lied to.

“That’s what this is about?” He asked quietly.  

“Don’t you dare trivialize it.” She warned with a slight tremor in her voice. Her emotions were boiling over and cracks in her defenses were beginning to show.

“I’m ain’t…. I’m-I’m not” he quickly assured her, lifting one hand and showing her his palm in surrender.

She felt as though she would burst with all the things she wanted him to know. She wanted him to feel the betrayal and sadness she’d endured for himself, to have to live with it festering in the back of his mind like she had. Her bottom lip quivered and she sucked in a sharp breath.

“You broke my goddamn heart.” She whispered shakily.

Both of them froze at the sound of her admission. It wasn’t exactly something she wanted him to know but there it was anyway, the truth about how she felt, floating in the air between them. The air left Daryl’s lungs and his shoulders lowered. He dropped his vision, unable to look at the broken expression on her features.

She couldn’t hide it any longer, a single, salty tear flittered down her cheek and she whirled around, striding into what was now a thick darkness lit only by the moon. She was shrouded in black, protected by the night but the emotional exposure was kicking her anxiety into gear and meant she had to depart, to run away and go back to where she felt safe. She knew the way to the fairground even if she was blinded by the lack of light. It was like someone clicked their fingers and she was teleported to her destination, the route to her home a complete blur of tears and sniffles. She fumbled with the chain and lock on the gate, pausing to click on a hanging, LED light that bumped against the fence post. Her heart jumped in her chest when a hand wrapped around her wrist and she flinched away, seeing that Daryl had somehow followed her without her noticing. So wrapped up had she been in her own tears, that she’d made it home without a single care for the dangers that might be surrounding her.

“Wait. Please.” He requested, stepping under the light on the fence.

In her other hand, she still grasped the lock on the gate. It rattled when she let go and swallowed hard.  

“I didn’t mean what I said to him.” He said sincerely. “Ya know what he was like. I just wanted to shut him up”

She licked her lips, tasting the tang of her tears and roughly wiped at her face with the sleeve of her jacket.

“You didn’t defend me either.” She told him. Her voice was now akin to a pathetic whimper and she detested the sound of her own vulnerability. “If we were supposed to be friends, if I actually meant anything to you, you would have stood up for me when that fucking airhead started reading my journal. Because we both know I was not in a position to do that myself. I needed you and you walked away.”

He nodded in understanding and Jess thought he might have been expecting to hear such a thing.

“I know. M’sorry.” He said, stepping closer to her. She backed up.

“Right. Sure.” Came her sarcastic reply, her walls still raised and Daryl’s apology doing little to knock them down. It was going to take a lot for her to trust anyone again, let alone him.

She struggled with the lock, finally releasing it and noisily hauling the gate open. She stepped inside and slammed it, clicking the lock back into place and walking away. To her surprise, it began to rain. Small raindrops splattering long the path and gently playing a rhythm on the top of her hood.

“I let ‘em die.” He called out. “Both of em.”

She halted and peered over her shoulder at him, his fingers were threaded through the fence. To his credit, she couldn’t deny that he was trying more than she ever would have guessed. His determination to pursue her and make her listen was obvious. She knew exactly who he was referring to.

“How many people you killed, Jess?” he questioned.

She lowered her head and took a deep breath, not wanting to answer the question. It wasn’t something she thought should be a part of regular conversation unless absolutely necessary. Taking another human beings’ life was no menial task, nor was it something to be discarded like it didn’t matter. It was a huge deal, especially to Jess. But she kept the details and numbers locked away where they couldn’t play on her conscience too much.

“Wouldn’t be alive right now if ya hadn’t killed somebody and I know you must have put down a lot of them assholes at Terminus.” He reasoned, still gripping the fence and refusing to budge.

“Then there’s your answer.” She grunted. “A lot”

“Yeah. Me too. Those two girls? They were the first.” He revealed.

She needed to hear it. They were dead, that much didn’t need to be explained. But she wanted to know the how’s and why’s. She slowly wandered back to the gate.

“Merle told me you almost shot Sarah in the face.” She mumbled.

“Yeah. I really wanted to” he huffed “But… there was kids watchin’, y’know? Before that, before ya left, I took her to the woods and threatened to slit her throat if she bothered ya again. Didn’t know that, did ya?”  

She didn’t know, she had no idea but managed to keep her shock well hidden. Her eyes only flickering up to his.

“In the end…I watched ‘em get bit and I did nothin’ ‘cause I fuckin’ hated what they did to you. I know I was a shitty friend. But I wasn’t lyin’ when I said I just don’t have friends. I always been kind of a loner ‘cept for when I was with Merle.”

“You were ashamed of me.” She pointed out

“What?! That’s bullshit.” He exclaimed in disbelief.

She stepped closer to where he stood beyond the fence, the light illuminating them both from above enough for them to be able to read each other’s expressions.

“As soon as people started making fun of you being around me, you closed up like a clam and treated me like I was some kind of fly that just followed you around. God forbid you’d be seen with… what was it that Merle called me? Oh, that’s right, the ‘little, fat chick!’.” She explained with regret.

“Oh, c’mon, Jess!” He cried, frustration etched onto his features as he leaned closer to the fence, urging her to believe him.

“Tell me I’m wrong!” She shot back, silencing him. “Right. Because I’m not, am I?!”

He suddenly slammed both of his hands against the metal links on the barrier between them, sending a shockwave along the structure. Jess jumped slightly and moved back.

“Two weeks!” He yelled with no regard for the danger he might be attracting from the woods “I looked for you for two god damn weeks and they all wanted to move on n’ forget ya like ya never mattered!” His breathing had changed and she noticed that he was almost panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “WELL, YA MATTERED TO ME!” He yelled at her with another slam of his hands. She merely blinked but could feel the heaviness of tears building behind her eyes again. “I told ‘em, I said I wasn’t doing shit for none of ‘em until I found you.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a brown, crumpled piece of paper, unfolding it and slapping it against the fence. “Instead, I found your stupid note and I fuckin’ kept it! So, don’t you dare tell me I was ashamed of you!”

She cursed herself internally for being unable to quash the need to cry. She hadn’t cried in over a year, having learned to push her emotions away and carry on. Now, she’d hardly stopped and she hated every single second. His confession regarding her note and his actions after her departure had changed everything. She was wrong. She had been wrong for so long. He did care about her after all and it was like they’d swapped roles. He didn’t know how to show it at the time. Now, she had more in common with him than ever. He had opened up to her and shown her a side to him that she didn’t know was there. He’d more than proved he cared and she felt more guilty than ever. It was too much to take in, to be able to stand before him and keep composed and so she quickly vanished into the Diner, leaving him standing alone in the rain with her creased note clutched in his hand.  

* * * * * 

Eric and Aaron's place was the perfect show home, straight out of an interior decorating convention and cleaner than a surgical suite. Jess was often reluctant to touch anything for fear of leaving a fingermark and being banished. Eric and Aaron didn’t mind, of course, having welcomes Jess into their home with open arms and not once mentioning any house rules or cleanliness standards to be followed. She used the place like a hotel but was always grateful for their hospitality and the free rein to come and go as she pleased. She was also pretty sure that no other residents of Alexandria made spaghetti quite like them.

She stayed at the Diner for the next two days, eventually emerging and resuming her hunting and clearing duties only to find that Daryl had covered for her in both areas. The walls were clear and there was meat in the pantry. Feeling useless and still lumbered with emotions, she threw Daryl a split-second peep where he stood by the armory and raced to the other side of the street, letting herself into Aaron and Eric’s living room and slumping down onto their couch. Aaron ticked off a crossword in a wildly outdated newspaper on the opposite couch and peered at her over the broadsheet, observing her troubled body language; fiddling hands and constant sighing. She presented in such a way that he had never seen from her before. She was anxious.

He lowered the paper and zoned in on the only visible and readable part of her, her eyes. Stunned by what he was witnessing, he gradually discarded his newspaper and crept closer to her, eventually sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She looked up and he could practically feel the sadness seeping from her pores.

“OK…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.” He whispered.

“It’s a rare occurrence.” She sniffed. “Not happened in over a year. Now it’s like a fucking floodgate that I can’t close.” She stated plainly. While her eyes were watering, her breathing hadn’t changed, creating a strange and blank air around her.  It was a very odd sight for Aaron to comprehend.

“Are you here because you want to talk about it?” He pressed with a genuine desire to help. He wanted her to say yes and tried to urge her by shifting closer and waiting patiently.

“I don’t know.” She said under her breath.

“Look, I know you don’t trust anyone. But you’ve been staying in this house on and off for weeks now. You and I, we get along well. You can tell me, maybe I can help.” He tried.

Apparently, all Jess needed was a friendly face that wasn’t connected to Daryl to expel the contents of her mind to. She spent the next hour telling Aaron everything, right from the Quarry and up until that very day. She explained how her and Daryl used to be good friends and were torn apart by a number of factors, namely his mixed signals and her overthinking. At the suggestion from Aaron that her self-esteem played a part in it, a further door was opened in her head; he was completely right and it made her feel even more guilty for harboring such a huge grudge for so long. She expressed a need to make things right, but not to get too close and Aaron agreed, stating that while he thought it a good idea for now, she would not be wrong to let her guard down and give him another chance. Throughout their conversation, she cried more than once and was comforted by understanding and empathy. But when he reached out to hold her hand, she snatched it away and recoiled in discomfort. Aaron knew then not to push her too much, her refusal to remove her mask was also another telling factor that while she trusted him enough to accept his help, her face would remain behind a disguise that she used as a safety net.

“Sorry. I don’t do so well with the touching thing”. She told him.

It was the first time she’d trusted anyone with anything since Daryl at the quarry. She trusted him with her life and was left feeling like he’d lied to her. She hoped Aaron would not do the same and that his advice would help to mend the broken shards of what was left of her shattered friendship and she and Daryl could at least speak to each other without the past looming over them.

“What are you going to do?” Aaron asked.

“I have an idea. But I’m not sure it’ll work.” She replied.

NEXT CHAPTER

---  tagging as requested ---

@lilred254​

#the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #daryl x oc #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #daryl

[tdystmr]

au where werewolf!jaebeom meets grim reaper!jinyoung who somehow knows everything about him 🤩

b a c k g r o u n d i n f o 🍓

jaebeom is a half-breed werewolf. his dad was a hunter who met his mother while she was shifting and they somehow fell in love and had him

half-breeds are kind of shunned in the magic community because human blood is known as ‘contaminated blood’ hence jaebeom kind of hates everyone and rathers be alone. he has only an acquaintance at work, choi youngjae, who’s nice enough to try to socialise with jaebeom even though the older has shut everyone in the museum out

jinyoung is a grim reaper - not only for humans but for the magic community as well. it’s not common to be assigned to work for both and he knows he has to be some horrible criminal in order to be sentenced to such painful work

he only remembers bits and pieces of his past life, the main thing being a werewolf. that’s the reason why he’s been keeping an eye on jaebeom ever since he realised that a werewolf was in the same city as him.

p l o t 🍓

they bump heads, literally, on the street

jinyoung, obviously, had planned it but jaebeom was an unsuspecting werewolf who was simply in a rush to go check out an art piece the museum was interested in purchasing

jaebeom is immediately suspicious when jinyoung recognises what he is

jinyoung, being oh-so cryptic, invites him to meet at a nearby library. it’s kind of where jinyoung lives ( imagine a place like the grim reaper’s in goblin, those hidden wall kind of things )

he disappears and leaves jaebeom with a note that jaebeom decides to stuff into his pocket and ignore

but ofc he can’t just ignore it so he caves in a visits a few days after

jinyoung is waiting there for him and sneaks up on him, resulting in jaebeom reacting in self-defence and pining him on the floor

they eventually move to jinyoung’s house and jinyoung reveals that he’s actually in need of jaebeom’s help. part of being a grim reaper ( in this au, anyway ) is to not only help souls pass over but to deal with any unnatural causes of death

recently, there’s been a serial murderer of some sorts on the loose and jinyoung has reason to believe it’s a werewolf or a pack of them

jaebeom obv looses his shit because he hates anything to do with his own kind and stomps out of there

but jinyoung continuously reappears in his life until the werewolf finally caves in

*queue crime fighting duo jjp*

e x t r a c t 🍓

‪jaebeom hates crowds. it’s all skin-to-skin contact with sweaty strangers, a cacophony of noises that send his senses into overdrive. it doesn’t help that his ears or nose are more sensitive than the average human being’s, nor does it‬ help that the upcoming full moon is making him even jumpier than usual.

using his broad shoulders and strength, he pushes his way through the crowd, ignoring the curses and glares he gets. he keeps his head hung low, his messy fringe creating a curtain over his eyes. still, he pushes through the sea of people until he can finally breathe in fresh air instead of body odour and musky heat.

the building he’s looking for is about another street down, about a good five minutes away, and the sweltering heat beating down on his back puts him in a worse mood than he’s already in. still, he trudges on with his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, eyes set on the gravel below him.

of course, not looking up has it’s obvious consequences, and it’s not long before jaebeom feels the tell-tale hardness of another head collide against his.

it happens in a split second. his sunglasses slide off the bridge of his nose and to the floor, pathetically clattering against the gravel. the man looks up at him and his pupils zero in on jaebeom’s exposed icy blue left eye, sending him into a state of alarm.

immediately, he reaches up to cover it with a hand, right eye still trained intently on the man’s expression. his hands are clasped around the spine of his book, a thick leather-bound book with scraps and markers sticking out of the side. his eyes are soft and round, pink lips pursed into a light frown which confuses jaebeom even more.

“watch where you’re going,” jaebeom growls, trying to distract the man from staring even more. the man says nothing, still. he bends down and picks up jaebeom’s glasses, calmly wiping the black lenses with his clean white shirt. holding it up, he frowns at jaebeom, who frowns back.

“aren’t you taking this back, werewolf? you need it to hide that eye of yours, don’t you?” the man asks as if it isn’t a big deal, as if it’s an every day topic.

jaebeom sputters, caught totally off guard. who is this man? “what the hell are you talking about?”

the mysterious stranger nods towards his covered eye, unimpressed with jaebeom’s effort in lying. “i know what your kind looks like, though i haven’t seen one so up close in a century,”

“a century...?” jaebeom trails off, hand slowly dropping from his face out of shock. how the hell is that possible? what the heck? unless...

“what are you?” jaebeom aggressively questions. the man shrugs, annoyingly nonchalant, as he takes jaebeom’s hand and presses the sunglasses into it.

“you’ll know soon enough. when the time comes, we’ll meet again. i’ve decided it,” the man says, a small, irritatingly knowing smile on his lips. he brushes past jaebeom in his surprised daze, disappearing into the crowd that jaebeom came from.

when he snaps out of it, he’s standing alone in the middle of the pavement, hand holding his glasses out like an idiot. he quickly puts them back on, mind snapping back to attention as he slowly goes over whatever the hell that was.

glancing back, his mind races with possibilities. another half-blood? or a pure? a fey, maybe? or a wizard. maybe a warlock, seems nosy enough to be one. maybe i could track him down. if only i had something left-

it was as if the man had known jaebeom would have turned to his instincts. on the floor, lay a sleek black card embossed with silver writing.

DON’T BOTHER SNIFFING THIS.

MEET ME AT THE LIBRARY TWO BLOCKS DOWN IF YOU WANT TO KNOW. I’LL BE THERE, WHENEVER YOU FEEL LIKE IT. I’M LOOKING FORWARD TO SEEING YOU AGAIN, WOLF BOY.

- P. J. Y.

“wolf...boy...?” jaebeom mumbles, fingers running over the neat letters. it’s slightly warm as if fresh out of press, and jaebeom wouldn’t be surprised if this PJY dude had burnt it on the spot.

a part of jaebeom - his primal, savage wolf half - tells him not to do it because it could be a trap. the other part - the ever-curious human half - tells him to go dashing to the library right this instant to look for this man and demand answers.

instead of deciding because jaebeom loves being spontaneous and doing whatever the hell he likes, he shoves the card deep into his pocket and chooses to ignore it. he trudges on despite the nerves prickling at his spine, as if someone is watching him.

better to blend in than make a break for it. calm down, you can take him if he returns. just move along and ignore it, he tells himself.

but he can’t ignore it. for the rest of the day, the new prickly feeling of the edges of the card bugs him through his jeans, but he somehow can’t bring himself to throw it away. it feels heavy, like stone, way more than a stupid piece of card stock should be.

t a g s 🍓

crime fighting / detectives

minor gore / fight scenes / blood etc.

acquaintances > friends > lovers

mutual pining

slow burn

unnatural beings / magic

angst / fluff / smut

alpha!jaebeom

backstories / hidden pasts

character death

would also like to plug my ongoing fic silver lining - wizard!jinyoung x crown prince!jaebeom ✨ look for me on twitter @ tdystmr as well eheh

#got7 jjp #jjp #jj project #got7 #got7 jb #got7 jinyoung #fanfic #au #grim reaper jinyoung #werewolf jaebeom

[orlha]

Title: Trembling Hearts, Echoing Souls (originally called Summer Blue Sky) Chapter: 9 - Academy 3 Fandom: Naruto Genre: Adventure, Family Characters: Hatake Sakumo, Hatake Kakashi, OFC Triggers(s): – Rating: T Additional Tags: Quest Fic, SI-OC, Pack dynamics Summary: Tsukimi wakes up in the hospital as a 4 year old, as a Hatake and definitely not in her world.What happens next, what she does, is all up to you.

Notes: Any choices selected by reader on Tumblr is not counted. If you would like to participate, please comment on Ao3. You don’t need an ao3 account to comment.

Ao3

To be perfectly honest, Tsukimi wasn’t very sure where she was walking to. Kakashi’s scent went towards the genin training grounds. She knew she wasn’t allowed to step foot in there unless authorised. No one wanted to be liable for a civie’s injury. While she is an academy student and is treated mostly as a non-civilian, she doesn’t have a headband and shinobi ID yet and legally is a civie. 

She’s not very certain about it. Vaguely in her patchwork memory, Tsukimi remembers a part of conversation regarding this. She remembers it being serious but not which part of it.

She meanders down the road, following her brother’s scent. Kakashi would probably smell her and find her before she gets into trouble. He’s a bigger mother hen that the comics made him out to be, bet Kishimoto— 

Tsukimi stops. 

Comic? Kishimoto? 

Her hair flutters, leaves rustling in the breeze. She turns back, taking in the scenery properly. Trees shade the pavement, buildings rising up to five or six floors line the horizon, but there aren’t that many. Not as many as she was used to.

She was Evelyn, she is Tsukimi.

Forbes. Canon. Yellow hair. Kyuubi. Sharingan.

“You!” 

She spins around in shock. It felt like she was about to hit an epiphany when the voice jolted her out of her thoughts. 

Sharingan.

The boy yells, finger pointing at her. “It’s all your fault! Ever since your ‘accident’ now all the kids refuse to talk to me.”

He stomps towards her. “You’re the one who wanted to learn the jutsu, why the hell did I get shit for it?”

His black eyes stare down at her. She recognises this person. Not quite the same as a memory, but an echo of something else but what? Hadn’t she experienced this in the dojo at home too?

Something important, very important.

Sharingan. Red eyes.

“Hey! Brat, I’m talking to you...” His eyebrows furrows, peering at her. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good. I— I think teme is over training ground sixteen— “ 

Tobi. 

A taller man with wrapped skin on one side ghosts over the boy, his black eyes flashed into red, black tomoes spinning at her.

She’s terrified. She knows that he is the villain and he can’t be reasoned with. She should run. Kakashi is in danger! She should— 

She hears a growl, a larger figure leaping forward, putting themselves between the man and her. 

“Papa.” She clings onto the back of his legs, body shaking hard. The man is going to kill Kakashi and then destroy the world. Could Papa even kill a man like that? 

Hands that are strangely comforting, pull her away from Papa. Ensui next to her, glaring at… the boy?

“I told you to stay away from my youngest, Obito,” Papa says.

“I did!

“Then what are you doing here? And don’t tell me you didn’t do anything. Because why else is she scared?” Papa’s volume doesn’t change, but there’s something chilling about it. 

“I didn’t do anything!” says Obito, stumbling away from him. “I saw her, and she didn’t look good and then you appeared! Was I supposed to leave her alone when she looked like she might faint?”

Papa whirls around; her schoolbag, that he had slung the shoulder straps through an arm, smacks Obito on the face. “Is that right, Tsukimi?” he asks. “You can tell me if he was mean to you.”

He would be a threat in the future, something seems to tell her. Tsukimi doesn’t know why or how she knows this. He’s not one yet, not now but the very existence of him could destroy the entire shinobi world. Maybe she is the reason why Obito was a black sheep in canon.

Canon, there’s that word again even though she has no idea what it means.

Her eyes dart to the boy and back to Papa. “He said it was my fault…” she finds herself saying. His eyes darken like the skies before Papa’s raiton jutsu, his lips thin but all he does is nod at her words. 

Papa hoists her up, seating her on his arm and hip. She wraps her arms around his neck and presses her face into the crook of his shoulders.

“Stay away from my family, Obito. If I have to say this again, it won’t be pleasant.”

He turns away. 

“We’ll see you in class,” she hears Chouto say as Papa leaps onto the rooftop. She looks down and sees Chouto waving at her. Ensui beside him staring at Obito. 

When a butterfly flaps its wings… Her very existence have already made changes. She don’t know for sure what they are or even what these thoughts are. Maybe they’re not thoughts but instincts? A random grasp of what the future might hold. Tsukimi is certain that these ghostly figures, the jolt of visions are the future.

That or she is turning insane. She’s not sure which is stranger — that she remembers her past life, or that she’s seeing the future. It almost feels like just as she’s about to settle down into her new situation, life throws her more lemons.

It better be some sage-good lemonade at the end of this because she’s not sure how much she can handle this by herself.

Papa doesn’t say anything until they enter the compound.  

“Little Moon, do you want to tell me what happened?” he asks. He sinks on the dining chair, setting her on the table. 

That she’s going crazy? No thank you.

She looks at her feet sullenly and Papa sighed, cupping her cheeks to make her look at him. “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me anything.”

His grey eyes frown at her. There are dark circles rimming his eyes. 

“Even if it sounds crazy?” she asks.

“Even if it sounds crazy.” he replies unhesitatingly. Tsukimi knows that she can undoubtedly trust him.

“It’s not a little kid’s feud, you know.” She looks down at her small hands. “It’s much, much bigger than that.”

“Then the more I should know, right? How can I protect you and the pack if I don’t know what’s going on.”

“I see things,” Tsukimi says as quickly as she can’t, terrified that she’d second guess her decision.

“You see things. And are they—”

“It’s… more than things,” she continues because if she stops, she didn’t think she could say it again. “There’s a bit in me that knows that it’s definitely the future. And when I saw… him I saw that he would one day destroy the shinobi countries. The man he could be. 

“I know it’s crazy and it sounds ridiculous. But I saw— I saw you on the dojo floor. A ghost of you and somehow, I knew that— that— You will go out on a mission one day soon, the third shinobi war will explode from the mission. It’ll be a mission you fail to save your teammates lives and be blamed for the war. And you’ll kill yourself because of it. What they don’t know is that the mission was rigged. The council rigged it. Whether you cleared it or failed it, it would still have triggered the war. The man didn’t want you around. He wanted— “

“Hush.” Papa pulls her into his lap, wipe off tears that she didn’t realise had been trickling down her face. “Papa will never leave you.”

“You did! You will...” she whispers. 

“I won’t.” His grip tightens around her and she rubs her against his jounin vest.

“I saw you in the dojo— “

“You saw me kill myself?”

“I saw your body.”

“If it’s the future,” he says and presses a kiss on the top of her head. “If things do turn out how you say it does, then Papa promises that he will never do it.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Tsukimi snarls, pushing away from him but he holds onto her tight.

“Papa promises on the honour of the Hatake clan and the blood of my ancestors that I will not kill myself in any way of form,” he says to her, solemnly. 

She turns her arm to her face, scrubbing her tears furiously away with her sleeve. “Don’t lie to me, Papa. A shinobi’s promise is useless if you’re already dead.”

#fanfiction #Trembling hearts echoing souls #Naruto #Hatake Kakashi #Hatake Sakumo #OC #summer blue sky

[smilingperformer]

SM074 - Thoughts

Holy cow... that was some tough ride. First it makes you laugh, then it crushes you, then it rekindles your inner light. So to speak. If you ask me, I’d say this was an episode well executed. Ula’Ula Arc continues on strong!

Satoshi is finally on Ula’Ula island Territory, and we get some others news during the scene before opening song kicks in: Alola League is being set up and both Kaki and Satoshi are fired up! We don’t have to argue about Alola League possibility anymore! : D

(Warning, I went quite analysive on this post, specifically about Sakaki and Kuchinashi. Be prepared for a really long post. lol)

I won’t like, it kinda feels hard to figure out where to start. So, why don’t we start with Rocket Gang, because well, the classmates aren’t here, and our only shots of them was from the beginning where Alola League was confirmed by Kukui, who then asked everyone to help out with setting it up. I wonder when it’ll be up for attendance!

Anyway, Rocket Gang!

While their role in this episode was more of a sideplot and to foreshadow future events, their scenes were very enjoyable and each episode of Sun & Moon makes me love them more and more. Musashi is daydreaming about Mimikkyu-Z move, and Kojiro & Nyarth are just a bit farther looking at the overjoyed Musashi, a bit bummed? Apparently she’s not letting the Z-ring up lol. Typical Musashi. When they see Satoshi the Brat Boy come to Ula Ula via Ship (this kinda reminds me of how they always used to following him on the same ship, esp. at the start of both Hoenn and Sinnoh.), they notice no classmates and immediately realise they might have a chance at winning against him. While we all know they’re doomed to fail (because they really are, nothing is confirmed but I find it hard to believe they’d win, as much as I want them to), I wish them luck! :3

We then cut to Kuchinashi, who seems to be sleepy, and wants to go take a nap somewhere else than the Police Station. It seems like he’s actually an active policeman in Pokeani. Was he in the games? Local Junsa calls him out in slacking, tho he pretends he’s on patrol and then heads back to Police Station, claiming he forgot something.

Looks like he was just trying to avoid his over a dozen Alolan Nyarth who keep on asking for food. I’m not cat owner, but apparently this is very relatable. :D This was a cute scene and all, but the next scene is the most intriquing one.

Kuchinashi receives as call, and while he tries to avoid answering it at first, hoping whoever is phoning him would give up, he eventually picks it up and oh guess who’s there:

Had I not seen the preview, I’d have been more suprised! But I did gasp at the scene while seeing it live thou.

And Sakaki is addressing Kuchinashi as an old friend? What is their deal here? I mean, SM073 already explained that the two know each other, but it looks like their relationship is deeper (And I mean more mysterious by it). Sakaki doesn’t seem to be aware of Kuchinashi being both Island King and police officer thou so... did they know each other before Kuchinashi became Island King or before he even became a police officer? Is Kuchinashi in Pokeani actually an ex-con who turned to the right side of the law? There’s more to this dialogue that makes me really curious. After small talk, Sakaki says that “he now gets it”. Get’s what exactly? He then tries to pry info out of Kuchinashi about “Kagayaki-sama“, which we localisation fans know as The Blinding One (see what’s being foreshadowed?). I didn’t know what exactly this was until later during the episode when I watched it live, but I had a hunch he might be asking about it. And I was correct. This is the first hint of an incoming arc about Necrozma, and with Sakaki being involved, a possible Rainbow Rocket arc!  I am beyond stoked and excited!

The way Kuchinashi reacts to the question is really interesting as well. I bet he does know, as we later know it is part of another legend told on Alola. But he seems certain on not letting Sakaki know, telling him he's never heard of it (the man keeps on lying to everyone, pffffft). So, I doubt he’s in league with Rocket Gang but, he might have had some past with them before. More specifically with Sakaki. What kind thou? Guess we’ll find out later this... summer? Autumn? Winter? This arc specifically? I’m finding it hard to predict future stuff for Sun & Moon, it always suprises me in different ways.

Sakaki expected a lousy answer from Kuchinashi, but like, this line has me so curious? Just what is Sakaki planning? I think he’s gonna have a big part in Necrozma arc, and Pokeani might try doing something original with merging ideas of Rainbow Rocket, Necrozma and the post-game stuff from Sun & Moon games (NOT Ultra ones, since Ultra replaced the Post Game from original games to Rainbow Rocket). Anyway, this quite intense Phone Call is finally hung up (Sakaki didn’t seem too pleased, calling his name just when Kuchinashi says he’s hanging up. He didn’t sound mad or anything, it was quite a calm and collective voice, but it was like he was trying to intimidate him? Idk) after Satoshi starts shouting outside, looking for the Island King himself. I guess our depressed Nyarth cop got off the hook, so to say? At least for now.

Maybe I should have put this part of this post as a seperate one, but... I’m not sure how to format it. If people want me to put it seperately, I can do so. But, moving on!

Well, before we move on with the plot of this episode, Satoshi gets piled up with Kuchinashi’s Nyarth, and Bevenom causes bit of chaos by shooting some... stuff, at them. Then Bevenom provokes the cats and a fight between Satoshi’s friends and Alolan Nyarth occurs. The cats won. lol Poor Satoshi. Rought start for this Island Pilgrimare.

And once again, when Kuchinashi gets asked himself as an Island King, he lies, saying Kuchinashi is his co-worker and currently on a patrol. Pfffft. He’s got some tough nerves to keep on lying to strangers. On top of it all, he tricks Satoshi into keeping company to the Alolan Nyarth “until Kuchinashi comes back“. Ruuuuude! He seems to be quite fed up with life. : D But this keeps his character interesting, he’s totally my fav Kahuna now. Sorry Lychee.

Kuchinashi does take note to Lugarugan and Bevenom specifically before tricking Satoshi into playing with the Nyarth thou. Doing a good job as Island King :)

So... Satoshi is dead from keeping company before the break time. Poor thing. These Alolan Nyarth sure are attention-hungry. (The Commercial Breaktime part is announced by Sakaki and somehow it gives me shivers lol)

After showing how exhausted Satoshi is, which is possibly because of playing with the cats for hours, Acerola shows up, searching for Uncle Kuchinashi. I have to say, the way she’s animated during this scene is so cute and gorgeus at the same time? She’s absolutely beautiful in Pokeani, they nailed here so well ♥

Well, after Satoshi explains Kuchinashi isn’t here and how he’s staying there until the “other officer“ comes back, Acerola blows the old man’s cover. Satoshi’s reaction is a lot calmer compared to Rocket Gan Trio’s, but you can see he’s a bit suprised. He’s also quite calm about Mimi-tan being a ghost. The pictures Rotom took were quite spooky... Acerola then offers Satoshi to take him to Kuchinashi, as if knowing she’ll know how to find him. This girl knows this man well, huh?

And just look at this animation, it’s perfection. The leg movement, the pose, the cuteness, the gorgeusness! That’s it, she’s my fav Pokeani character now. I’m gonna be sad when Ula Ula Arc is over I’m so sad she’s not a classmate ;_; She better appear more later on!

Back on topic, they head to the library Acerola works at, and after a small introduction to the place, Acerola brings up a book about a local legend, to which Bevenom seems to show being curious on. And so am I!

To explain it shortly, legend is about The Blinding One (Ultra Necrozma), Lunala and Solgaleo bringing light to a newly founded Alola Region, which was without a light at the time. If you want a full recap, I’ll point you to this post.

So, we now know some lore about Alola in Pokeaniverse! I love lore, and I was stoked to learn about Pokeani’s version of the Necrozma legend. It’s a bit different to the game one, where the Blinding One is a legend told in Ultra Megaopolis instead of Alola, and it’s actually about Necrozma itself instead of Ultra Necrozma. I wonder how they’ll showcase the hostile, incomplete Necrozma, who’s supposed to be in constant pain unless it fuses with Lunala/Solgaleo... hmmmmm. I’m worrying over Hoshigumo/Nebby now. Because of the Pokedex entries.

Acerola then informs Satoshi that Uncle Kuchinashi believes The Blinding One to be an Ultra beast. This bit also confirms Kuchinashi knows about the legend, and lied to Sakaki about. XD Ofc, the mafia boss didn’t believe him.

Well, what we didn’t see until the last second of the scene is that Rocket Gang is back to tailing Satoshi, and they have now learned about the tale of The Blinding One. They don’t know that Sakaki knows about it already, because they want to go and inform him right away. Weeell, they get scolded by Matori later in the episode for not bringing in new info anyway. Poor buffoons.

Small bits I like about this episode: How Mokuroh is absolutely adorable throughout it (I want to see the part where Satoshi feeds Mokuroh giffed it’s so CUTE) and Mimi-tan actually fancying Pikachu, unlike some other Mimikyu we know :))

I gotta say, the dynamic between Satoshi and Acerola is quite enjoyable. Satoshi is shown a bit restless here, wanting to go search for Kuchinashi at the Police Station, while Acerola just with proudness claims that there’s no need. Because she’s got the ultimate weapon for getting him to her: the hostage! Of his Kendama toy.

She’s adorable. How did Kuchinashi end up becoming her carer. That’s it this is my new Discord avatar. Welp. Her hostage works, because Kuchinashi comes right to her house.

I think this line confirmes Satoshi is gonna do another trial before SM077, and I think it’ll be the Ghost Trial. Maybe it’s a bit different to the games, since SM076 is gonna be Musashi’s Mimikyu VS Satoshi’s Pikachu. And they’re hyping it with different summaries, a lot. We’ll see, I’m not really having any ideas how they could portray Totem Mimikyu in the same episode. But I can see him getting the Ghost-Z Crystal. Anyway, let’s move on.

Kuchinashi denies Satoshi’s challenge, stating he can already see that he’s not strong enough to challenge them. He even tells him to go back to Melemele. Kinda harsh. Acerola convinces him to give the boy a try thou (by giving him glares and claming Kuchinashi is just finding his job a pain), so they’re gonna do a Pre-Trial for Trials. : D Which btw, is the highlight of this episode. I love how Kuchinashi seems to be unable to say no to Acerola. What a duo they are.

So, Kuchinashi uses Waruvial with the Intimidate Ability, while Satoshi uses Lugarugan, who showed interest in fighing earlier. However, we can see Lugarugan getting intimidated by this ability, and as we know, he’s got anger issues.

Btw, Kuchinashi doesn’t show a single interest in this fight. He looks bored. He knows he’s gonna win.

Well, each time Lugarugan gets intimidated by Waruvial, it gets angrier, and Satoshi notices this. He tries to calm Lugarugan, and well, so far it’s still listening, but...

None of Lugarugan’s move have an effect on Waruvial, and Kuchinashi manages to get Lugarugan trapped in a Sand Tomb. And well, this is where things get really serious.

Red-Eyed Lugarugan is back, and it’s not because of dirt, but because of not being able to control his own anger. I feel bad for thinking it was due to dirt. SM069 already kinda showed that it wasn’t related to dirt, because Lugarugan was dirty there. But let’s continue. Because this is where I start feeling ache in my heart.

Honestly, Satoshi looks terrified here. He knows what’s gonna happen. He knows already he won’t be able to control him! And he’s right!

The fight turns into Lugarugan not listening to any words Satoshi says, and it just keeps on biting Waruvial like a wild raging dog. It’s scary. It’s terrifying. And Satoshi has every right to be scared. But Kuchinashi?

He’s just being rude ass here, like he’s enjoying this scenario here. He seems so savage during this whole scene. Like he’s toying with the boy. And I sort of want to slap Kuchinashi for this, but then again, I love what Pokeani is doing with him here! We haven’t had Gym Leaders like him before, and to top it all, this is the first Dark-Type specialist Satoshi has to beat. Acerola is scared at Lugarugan here.

Kuchinashi does creepy smiles here while waiting for the right moment to counter enraged Lugarugan. You can see he’s a dark-type specialist. It sort of flows around him. Once the following scenes happens thou...

Cue the screenshot that starts breaking me. Seriously. We haven’t seen him look like this in whole Alola! He’s breaking!

And when Kuchinashi orders Waruvial to use Crunch, and it lands on Lugarugan perfectly...

Cue the most heartbreaking scene I have ever seen of Satoshi. I mean it. This is what breaks my heart! XYZ’s loss against Wurfic wasn’t enough, thou it was close! And I just had to see this similar shot of someone else in another show, so to see it this soon in Pokeani, with Satoshi, hurts so god damn much!

Lugarugan falls down, and the fight is over.

With Satoshi in disbelief. Seriously. I started crying few moments ago already. He looks so devastated. He’s lost before. But somehow this loss hurt so much more than other losses.

When he goes to Lugarugan and asks him if it’s alright, seriously, he looks like he’s about to cry. He’s at the line of the breaking point.

And he’s certainly keeping it in! He’s about to cry! ;_; And so am I hold on. I have to point out that Rica Matsumoto’s performance in this scene, and the next, is absolutely beautiful and I applaud her for a job well done.

Kuchinashi just straight up tells Satoshi that he should go back to Melemele Island. But the way Satoshi says the following line?

He’s saying it with the kind of voice that implicates that he’s so ready to cry and he’s determined on not giving up! I love this boy, and due to how impactful this scene is, I love the whole sequence of the scene, from start of the fight to the finish of this scene, whole lot!

This is the Satoshi we’ve learned to love. Determined to never give up. Determined to stay on the Island and train to become stronger, to be able to beat Kuchinashi. It’s admirable, inspiring, and I was once again reminded why this boy is such a golden one. I can’t believe I used to think lousy stuff about him years ago. I feel awful.

Anyway, Kuchinashi then tells him to do as he pleases. We then have another foreshadowing from Rocket Gang for the SM076, and I kinda explained the scene before, so, moving on! (Sorry Rocket Gang you know I love them D:)

The final scene is a good one as well. Lugarugan is sulking alone about the loss, and Satoshi goes to him, talking about how he’s frustrated, and how they weren’t able to do anything during the battle. It was very one-sided after all. He’s clearly disappointed. But then he apologizes to Lugarugan, like he seems to believe it’s his fault he can’t control Lugarugan’s anger issues. And well. He’d never blame his Pokemon. His friends. He then asks Acerola about where he could train on Ula’Ula Island, and Acerola suggests on meeting with Kapu-Bulul. Which is next week’s episode!

The end of SM074! I don’t know why I went such detail on this one. I’m blaming it on plot elements, creating my new favourite scene in Pokeani, making me love Acerola and Kuchinashi more, etc etc etc. If you guys managed to read this all, I applaud you. And sorry for sucha long post. :’D

Pokeproblem of the episode is stunning. Kuchinashi loves teasing his Nyarth.

While the preview talks about Island Kings resembling the Island Deityes by their personalities (bless the preview dialogues), we’ll be heading to the Ruins of Abudance, where Kapu-Bulul resides. And they’ll be crossing the desert to get there! Time for some slacker training!

Kapu-Bulul! Intense Slacker Training! Cya all next week!

#aleira watches sumo #i've been writing this for hours #oh my god #i keep getting distarcted because i have so much to write #i'm so sorry #pokemon #pokeani #pokemon sumo #ula ula arc #sm074 #ub arc #long post