#don’t touch me nothing can hurt me if I only think about ranchers

[shepscapades]

I don’t have a clever caption but. Man. Something about Tango who is very new to guilt, and something about Tango who just absolutely cannot comprehend Jimmy’s complete lack of android understanding and the unashamed kindness that comes from it

#dbhc #DBHC RETURNS #android tango #tangotek #tango #jimmy solidarity #solidarity gaming #solidaritygaming #team rancher #hermitcraft dbh au #double life smp #dlsmp #solidango #art escapades #don’t touch me nothing can hurt me if I only think about ranchers #they are so sweet #jimmy is so so so kind to tango and tango just cannot begin to comprehend it #love that for them #ranchers #dbhc tango #dbhc impulse #dbhc jimmy #dbhc art

[bokettochild]

Apples the Pink Bunny

Did someone ask for this? 

No.

Did I have an anxiety/emotionally overloaded evening?

Yes.

For this reason I am awake at 2:44 am on a school night to write myself a 13 page comfort fic. So, enjoy or don’t enjoy, but here’s Legend being a soft bunny with the chain for 6,268 words.

(Inspired by this and this.)

 There is a bunny on the edge of camp.

 It crouches in the shadows, eyes glinting gold and red in the firelight, nose twitching as it watches them.

 Wind watches it back.

 He doesn’t think that the others have seen t, no one’s said anything, and they all know how Warriors hates rabbits. So, he doesn’t say anything, not to them, he only wanders around the camp casually before settling down close-ish to where the bunny hides.  

 There aren’t many wild animals in his Hyrule, aren’t many animals at all, but Four’s taught him how to convey that he’s friendly to the minish and some of the forest life, so he tries to employ that knowledge now. He doesn’t look the rabbit directly in the eye, but he does force his ears forwards towards it, letting them flick away here and again, fingers rubbing softly as he glances casually as velvety pink paws.

 He waits until he can see the rabbit watching him before he begins to whisper soft and quiet. “Hello, hello there lil’ guy.”

 There’s a huff from the bunny, but it takes a single agonizingly slow step forwards, body stretched out and nose twitching as it watches him, ears pricked up curiously. When Wind doesn’t do anything different, just keeps speaking low and soft, the bunny lops its way over, ears up and attentive as it stops beside him, eyes turned up to stare into his own with a surprising amount of boldness for a creature close enough for him to smash in one blow.

 “Hello.” Wind murmurs softly, moving slowly as he raises his hand over the rabbit, only to find himself starting as the bunny simply stares at him with the most unimpressed expression on it’s fuzzy face. Even Wolfie, who is strangely intelligent even for a dog, or so he’s heard has never looked so unimpressed with something, and the sailor finds himself lowering his hand sheepishly as if scolded, meeting the rabbit’s eyes and starting when it doesn’t flinch away, instead watching him intently with shivering nose and twitching ears.

 “Hey Wind, watcha got there?” The rancher calls over, drawing the attention of the rest of the camp and making the sailor’s heart race.  

The bunny’s going to be startled! It’s going to run away! All that work to get it to come over and he won’t even get to touch it!

 But the rabbit doesn’t move, or rather, it doesn’t bolt away. Soft lavender eyes stare across the camp, unusual in their shade but lovely to gaze into as Wind finds himself transfixed with watching the silky sheen of the petal-pink fur and the glimmer of stars in lavender and golden eyes.

 “Wind?” The rancher’s voice rings with concern, and the sailor snaps bac to attention, a warm smile easily falling over his face as he turns to the camp. “It’s a rabbit.” He says quietly, careful not to startle the beast. “Twi, do you think it’ll let me pet it?”

 The rancher’s brows furrow as he looks over, markings shifting with the rest of his face as he stares at the rabbit warily.

 To their surprise, and apparently the rabbit’s too, the tiny animal freezes in place for all of a second only to have the slight tilt of Twilight’s head sending it diving into Wind’s lap, startling the sailor enough for his to blink in surprise, but not so badly that his hands don’t instantly bury themselves in the pink fur.

 And oh! It’s softer than he thought it would be! It’s nothing like Wolfie’s rough pelt or the feathers on Wild’s winter gear. The bunny’s fur is like fine down, or maybe silk, or- He runs his hands through it again, eyes widening with every stroke as the rodent shivers in his lap, eyes fixed on Twilight and ears pressed low as he huddles in the space left between the sailor’s legs as he sits criss-cross on the ground.

 “I guess that’s a yes.” Twilight chuckles, low and deep. It’s a sound that makes warmth flow through Wind’s chest, but the rabbit only shivers, huddling lower the longer Twilight’s gaze rests on it.

 “I think you’re scaring him.” The sailor hums softly, gently pulling the rabbit into his arms with an ease that comes from years of cradling his baby sister when she was small. The rabbit nestles close, eyes still on Twilight as it seems to shake itself, bt its doesn’t struggle against him, and Wind takes that as his cue to pull himself gently to his feet and cross the camp towards where Time and Wild sit playing a card game.  

 The champion is explaining the rules for the nth time as Time chuckles low and soft, purposefully asking questions that Wild’s already answered and earning pointed stares in return. The sailor’s approach lands just as Wild looks instants from pulling out his hair, and instantly cornflower blues are locking onto him with a strained smile, the champion apparently desperate to escape the game he’d asked for in the first place. “Hey, Wind, watcha have there.”

 “A rabbit.” He replies, moving one arm to let lavender eyes peek out and stare at the champion, who’s eyes fall open in awe as his cards spill from his hands.

 “It’s...you’re...” Wild’s eyes sparkle with awe as he looks from Wind to the rabbit in his arms. “How did you catch it?”

 The rabbit shuffles closer to Wind’s chest as the words are spoken, and the sailor has to settle a hand on it’s back to calm it again as it edges away from the cook’s glimemring eyes.

 “It was on the edge of camp.” Caution leaks into the pirate-hero's voice as he scrunches up his nose. “You better not ask if you can cook it.”

 Blue eyes shoot wide as Wild shakes his head violently, earning a soft laugh from Time as his apparent orrer at the idea. “No! It’s-” Wild’s fingers twitch. “I couldn’t- Can I hold it?” The second-youngest's eyes travel up to stare up into Time’s leadingly, wide and innocent and so terribly like Aryll’s face when she’s asking Granny for another bowl of soup or piece of bread that Wind can’t help but giggle as he gently scritches the rabbit’s ears.

 “That’s up to Wind.” Time answers gently. “But I don’t see why not.”

 Softly glowing blue turns to meet his own as Wild stare up, pleading, at him. “May I?”

 “Sure” He giggles, crouching low in front of the champion. “Have you ever held a baby?” Wild’s brow furrows, considering for a moment before shaking his head. “Okay, how about a kitten? A pup?”

 The champion only shakes his head, and Wind finds himself frowning as he looks first at the bunny in his arms and then up at Wild, who’s face is quickly falling to one of disappointment.

 “Here,” Time offers, gently arranging Wild’s arms properly. “It’s like this.”

 Between the two of them, they get the bunny situated in Wild’s thin arms, and within seconds the champion’s free hand is dragging through plush fur as awe shines across his face, Time and Wind both laughing fondly as they watch and occasionally reaching out themselves to scritch the rabbit’s long ears.

 Between them, there are eight heroes, and as of late, a rabbit has joined the mix, slung easily in Sky’s sailcloth as they travel.

 The creature didn’t seem keen on leaving, and while it’s in no way fond of Twilight, the others find that they can’t resist sneaking to the back of the group to gently scritch it’s ears, or laugh as it hops about exploring the land around them when they stop for a break.

 The Hyrule they’re in isn’t one that anyone recognizes, the forests strangely rich and the land both better kept than Wild’s while still more wild than the others. Fights in this world are intense, and only their two wanderers seem to be able to battle the insane variety and numbers of monsters with anything resembling ease.

 It’s strange too, having to hide the rabbit whenever battle comes, but the creature is smart, darting away when battles come, a scowl in its fuzzy face as it burrows beneath tree roots or into the brush, waiting until the battle is over to re-emerge, hopping slowly across the blood soaked ground without trepidation, not once blinking at the blood and grit that gets in its fur as it hops from one hero to the other, eyes flickering between violet and lavender as it analyzes them, chirring angrily at any of them when they try to hide wounds, and nestling in the laps of the younger hero’s with a put upon look when Warrior’s has to stitch something up.

...

 “He needs a name.” Wind declares after the second battle, his good hand petting the rabbit’s long ears while Sky helps to wrap the sprain in his wrist.

 “Isn’t bunny enough?” Warriors eyes the rabbit disdainfully. “You didn’t give the wolf anything fancy.”

 “He’s not just a bunny though!” Wind protests with a well-placed pout. “He’s our bunny-friend!”

 “And the wolf isn’t your wolf-friend?” Twilight cocks a brow, something like hurt flashing through his eyes before he actually winces, hissing softly as Warriors continues to stitch him up.

 “The wolf comes and goes. Besides, he’s a wild thing, so it’d be wrong to name him like a common dog.” Wind explains, shrugging lightly but stopping when Sky pushes his shoulder back down with a whispered reprimand for moving. “The bunny stays with us though,” Wind continues, holding still this time save for the hand that continues along the bunny’s pelt. “He needs a real name.”

 “Agreed.” Wild sounds, shuffling over with a leafy vegetable in his hands that their rabbit friend takes with a pleased chirr, glancing up at the champion appreciatively before setting his sharp teeth to the plant, earning a smile from the champion.

 “Any ideas?” Time starts, glancing around camp and earning a flick on the ear from Hyrule, who’s still trying to clean a wound on the man’s face.

 “Seriously Time?” Warriors protests, but it’s too late, the others are already musing quietly and beginning to consider ideas.  

 “Petal?” Sky tries, glancing down at the rabbit in Wind’s arms. “Like, cherry blossom petals?”

 “Cherry!” Wild gasps, eyes glimmering hopefully.

 “Pinky.” Warriors snorts distastefully, earning an angry chitter from the rabbit, but the captain only glares back at the animal, as if it had just insulted him, mimicking the chitter pathetically and drawing laughs from the others.  

 “It’s a boy, right?” Twilight questions, cocking a brow, and the others exchange looks. “I think so? I’m not sure I want to check....”

 “Nothing too feminine then.” Sky nods slowly.

 “Floor.” Four suggests solemnly. “Floof the Poof.”

 Eight sets of eyes, including the rabbits, turn to stare at the smithy disbelievingly. Red glimmers in his eyes for all of a second before he starts and flushes. “Sorry,” The smith rubs at his neck nervously, red blooming over his face and down his neck. “I was thinking aloud, Intrusive thoughts, you know?”

 “What about Apple, for apple-blossom?” Time speaks slowly, eyes still on the smithy as he speaks, concern but fondness in his eyes.  

 The rabbit in Wind’s lap looks up, staring at Time and munching in a way that almost looks considering, violet eyes fixed on the eldest hero’s single one, the two locking gazes, neither blinking until Warriors sighs and snaps his fingers, startling them both.

 “Aaaand, that’s a yes for Apples.” Warriors rolls his eyes. “No angry chitter, no arguments against.” The captain’s gaze levels them all. “Unless anyone has any objections?”

 “Nope!”

 “I think it sound’s cute?” Sky chuckles, patting Wind’s arm to signal that he’s finished and scratching the newly named Apples behind the ears. The rabbit huffs in his rabbit way, but they've all grown too used to the grouchiness of the animal to do anything other than laugh at it.

...

 Apples is a wonder, and they are so very happy to have him.

 There is nothing so convincing to make Sky finally relax than to have a pink mess of fur barrel into his lap and force heavy eyes to close under the soothing feeling of fur on his fingers and a small warm body pressed against his own.

 Sky’s restless sleep and eternal exhaustion ease with every night and Wind giggles as each evening after dinner the bunny climbs resolutely into Sky’s lap, glaring pointedly up at the Skyloftian until long fingers are dragging through his fur and crystal blue eyes are falling shut contently.

 When Sky shoots awake at night, there's a rabbit there that presses tiny paws to his chest, dark eyes staring up into his face in the darkness as ears flick and a tiny nose twitch, worry in the rabbit's expression as Sky sighs, a light smile on his face as he raises a hand to run through long fur. “I’m good, Apples, it was just a dream.”

 The rabbit always snorts, scowling lightly and buffeting Sky’s chest with its head, but the Skyloftian only chuckles lightly, wrapping the bunny in his arms and shifting to lie on his side, the rabbit held close as he fades back into sleep.

...

 When Time broods, brows low and frown lines pulling at his features and aging him by decades, most of the others know not to disturb him. They let each other have their space and they never press. Wolfie will, at time, curl up at the old man’s feet or sit at his side, allowing callused fingers to run through his thick fur as Time sits and stares at the ground, mind a world away where none of them ever wish to see, if the pain and sorrow in his gaze is to be read properly.

 Perhaps a rabbit cannot be expected to understand this law of privacy though, even if he is unusually intelligent.

 Time’s hair falls into his face as he perches on a stone on the edge of camp, gaze fixed on Lake Hylia below them as his elbows rest on his knees, face downcast and frowning as pain glimmers in his single blue eye.

 Apples, who had been stretching his legs after being carried in Sky’s arms during their traveling that day, pauses, ears flicking up and towards the old man, paws freezing just off the ground as he watches, nose twitching.

 The heroes watch, Wind darting up worriedly as the bunny lops closer to Time, but he freezes when the pink ball of fur pulls himself up next to Time with surprising agility, head butting carefully against their leader’s armored thigh as a soft squeak break through the air. Time doesn’t stir, not at first, but then the rabbit settles next to him, one paw on the old man’s leg, eyes following Time’s down to Lake Hylia.

 Scarred hands twitch before finally landing in silky pink, pulling through the long fur as tension bleeds from Time’s shoulders, a breathy sigh escaping their leader before a soft tune begins to drift through the air.  

 The rabbit gently settles down, head resting beside his paws as Apple allows Time to pet him slowly.

 The others are to far to understand the words, but Time’s soft murmurs break the silence, Apple’s ears twitching while an intelligent bunny face stares up at the tear-streaked face of the hero of Time.

 When Time rejoins the rest of them for dinner, it’s with Apples nestled in his arms, a sad sort of peace in the hero’s gaze as he settles down to join in the meal, never once releasing Apples while they eat and joke, and by the time the meal is finished, the pink bunny is soundly asleep in Time’s arms.

...

 It’s Four that seems the most curious about their little friend, and while the rabbit doesn’t seem particularly playful, the smith will occasionally catch up the animal, laughing s Apples sighs in an almost reluctant manner, and carry him off into the woods near where they are.

 The Minish love Apples, and Four himself delights in diving amidst the pink fur or the first time while the bunny looks at him in utter shock.

 Air enough, it was unlikely that Apples had ever seen a Hylian shift into a Minish before. But at this size, Four can enjoy Apples’ fur far better than as a Hylian, and it’s delightful to lead the rabbit around, chattering lightly as Apples lops along behind him, ears pricked and nose shivering as they move through Minish towns and groves, exploring the tiniest nooks and crannies they can find and having all sors of adventures.

 Of course, there are dangers to being smaller than a rabbit, and the first time a spider attacks them, freakishly big and easily big enough to rip off Four’s head, it’s Apples that darts to his rescue, chirping and scolding in his rabbit way as he thumps his feet and pins back his ears in a strange imitation of Wolfie’s growl.

 The spider is in no ways eager to give up her prey, and Four finds that, despite killing monsters on the daily, he has to turn away in disgust as Apples tears the spider apart, eyes flashing with gold as the seemingly harmless pink rabbit unleashes mass destruction on not only the one spider, but also her sisters that emerge from the burrow beside them. Long legs and venomous maws stretch over the top of him, reaching out to grab the Minish Hero, only to have a rabbit dart over, teeth flashing and harsh chatters sounding as legs and bodies are torn asunder.

 When the spiders stop emerging, the small patch of grass is full of the remains of spiders, and Apples is rubbing at his nose and sneezing softly, absolutely covered in the remains of the monstrous insects.

 “Thank you...” Is all the smithy can breathe out as Apples’ eyes meet his own.

 He’s replied to with a sneeze.

 Four shifts back as soon as possible, carrying his bunny savior back to camp and carefully helping to clean the rabbits long fur, murmuring softly and thankfully all the while. And if he shares a but about his previous adventures, and Ezlo, who while being a hat shared some things in common with the grouchy rabbit, well, it’s not like Apples will be able to tell anyone!

...

 It’s Wild that seems the most enraptured with their new little companion. Always asking the older hero’s questions as he sorts through his inventory, offering all sorts of foods and treats to the rabbit and cooing in delight each time something is accepted. No one knows what it is exactly what it is about watching Apples eat has Wild so happy, but there’s no denying that the easy grin that steals over his face is better than the solemn frown and sad thoughtfulness that takes over on occasion.

 The first time they see Wild go into a memory, it’s Apples that catches their attention, the rabbit shrieking worriedly as he bumps against the champion’s still hand, concern filling his violet eyes as he stares up at the champion, paws raised to press against the hero’s stomach while ears and nose twitch and shiver worriedly.  

 Apples doesn’t even panic when Twilight steps over, although he does shrink back, wary as the rancher gently shakes Wild’s shoulder before sighing and sitting next to him. The rabbit mimics the motion, but on the other side, eyes flicking from Twilight to Wild with nervous concern and wariness, but when neither move he contents himself with gently rubbing against the champion’s limp hand.

 When Wild blinks awake again, eyes darting too and fro to take in his surrounds and breathing harsh, Apples jumps up, paws settling on the kid’s thigh and catching his attention, making the young hero still and stare. Tears well in cornflower blue eyes, and the rabbit doesn’t even sigh when Wild scoops him up, burying his face in Apples’ fur and sobbing quietly.

 Were their hearts not aching for their brother, soft chuckles would have sounded around camp when Apples had freed a paw to gently pat the champion’s cheek.

...

After the first few weeks and a few more switches, Sky will come to find Apples every time that bedtime draws near, scooping the bunny out of the lap of another hero with a chipper “My turn now!” as he almost skips over to his bedroll, bundling both himself and his emotional support bunny into his sailcloth with a smile as Apples rolls his rabbit eyes and presses his paws to Sky’s own blue eyes, pushing them closed before settling against the Skyloftian’s chest. The Chosen Hero is always asleep within minutes, sleepily singing Zelda’s lullaby between snores as Apples’ violet eyes watch the rest of the camp.

 When Time need space, the rabbit will follow, gently resting a paw on his leg and sitting with him, eyes filled with an understanding that is ridiculous in a rabbit, but somehow believable as Time’s callused fingers work through pink fur, songs and stories drifting from tired lips as long ears twitch ever so slightly to catch the words.

 When Wind is playful, he’ll dart up and after the rabbit, who will always sigh in his rabbit way and either dart away or give chase, running the youngest hero ragged until Wind collapses, giggling and breathless, with Apples hopping up on his chest to bat at his face, as if to say “I win, I beat you, you lost so give me pets” and Wind does, eventually hauling himself up, and inevitably knocking Apples over before administering thankful ear scratches and pets until Apples springs free and continues going about his rabbit business.

 Hyrule, though quiet, will often be found with the rabbit beside him, sometimes with Apple’s pushing his nose against the traveler’s hands and guiding them to better hold a knife while he’s carving, or a needle while he sews. It’s strange to see a bunny of all things unroll a bandage and offer it to the healor, but be it Hyrule or someone else that’s injured (provided it’s not Twilight) the rabbit will be springing over with his bunny brows furrowed as he scolds and fusses, nudging things over to Hyrule before the traveler can even ask someone for them, and climbing into bags and pulling out potions when the Hyrule’s healing glow begins to fade.

 Sleeves are tugged at when the Traveler is exhausted, unreleased until Hyrule agrees to rest, and when they eat the bunny will chitter and fuss and kick up a riot until Hyrule will humbly ask for seconds or Wild will offer them, stern indigo eyes following the travel’s movements until his bowl or plate is empty.

 When Wild is cooking, the rabbit will sit at his side, watching the process and chittering or nipping when the champion goes to add something dubious to the food, or begins to spice it too much for the younger ones to handle. Wild only ever laughs, offering bits and bobs of food as he works, and chuckling with delight when the bunny accepts them, Apple’s sharp teeth working away at leafy greens as stern violet eyes watch the young hero work.

 And when memories strike, harsh and horrid and often sad, the bunny climbs his way into Wild’s lap and sits until the hero stirs again. Apples’ fur is drenched time and again with tears, and every time, without fail, tiny paws gently pat the Wild’s head, lavender in normally violet eyes as a tiny nose nuzzles against a reddened and drooping ear.

 Four delights in exploring with Apples, and whether it be carrying the bunny off with him and chattering, or shrinking down and riding on Apples’ back, the two never fail to find something interesting to do.

 Through all of it, Twilight will gaze sadly at the rabbit who avoids him like death, and Warriors will scoff and roll his eyes, although fondly, as the younger heroes all fuss over their new friend.

 It’s only so much time before the captain breaks.

 It’s a nightmare, blood and blades and shrieks of two little boys and many trusted friends echoing in the captain’s mind, making him start awake with tears in his eyes. Warriors shivers in the night air, drawing his scarf around his neck and wrapping himself in his arms as he moves towards the fire.

 To his surprise, Apples sits before the flames as well, ears flicking towards the captain’s movements but gaze fixed on the flames with an almost sad air.

 The captain merely snorts and dismissed the rabbit in his mind, but with ever second the world around him presses closer and Warriors becomes more and more agitated. And still, the rabbit doesn't move, doesn’t look at him, Apples only sighs deeply as he stares into the fire, and when Warriors shoots the rabbit a confused look he starts when he sees what looks to be tears in lavender eyes.

 “You too huh?” Exhaustion loosens his tongue as he hunches before the fire, watching the flames dance. “Bad hunt? Lost mate?” The rabbit chitters something unintelligible, tiny body stiffening almost like Twilight’s does when he gets defensive. It draws a laugh from the captain’s throat, barking and bitter as his gaze rests on the burning remains of a log. “I feel you there, didn’t expect a rabbit to have trauma though.”

 An unimpressed glare is leveled his way, this time drawing a genuine but startled laugh from the captain. “So it’s like that huh? Too tough to talk about it?” 

 One ear twitches Apples wrinkling his tiny nose before stomping one of his feet agitatedly and huffing a short and sharp little breath at the flames.

 “I hear you.” Warriors laughs, a little broken and a little teary, eyes returning to the coals, shimmering with the ghosts of memories as screams echo in ears too used to their calls.

 Apples twitches, hesitant, ears flickering and feet stomping grouchily for a moment, before Warriors finds himself with a lap full of rabbit as the pink bunny pushes his head into Warriors’ hand, nearly demanding to be pet.

 “Oh,” Warriors scoffs, voice wet and harsh. “That’s how it is, huh? All your other Hylian’s are asleep, so because I’m awake from nightmares and goddess darned trauma, you figured I was available to pet you?”

 Another insistent nudge, and Warriors is rolling his eyes, pushing his hands through long fur with a sigh.

 It’s like silk, he muses to himself, blinking in surprise and running his hands through again. Like the finest of fabrics in the castle, like Artemis’ dresses that she wore when the war was over and they celebrated with dances and feasting and speeches of honor to the dead. Apples’ fur is like glinting red hair, oiled and brushed every night before bed. It’s like baby’s hair, impossibly soft and delicate.

 There’s a small body curled in his lap, and Warriors’ hands run over it curiously, stroking impossibly soft fur as he becomes lost in the wonder of the color, in the texture. Screams and blood fly from his mind as the captain’s fingers trail through the fluff, and warmth floods trough his chest when he takes Apples’ face in his hands and rubs at the rabbits' cheeks, laughter bubbling in his chest, warm and bright as the bunny scowls up at him.

 The next morning, when the heroes awake, its to find Sky shaking his head as he looks down at his usual sleeping companion held tight in Warriors’ arms, a blissful smile on the captain’s tearstained face. Apples scowls up at them, but he’s curled close to the man’s chest, with ample room to escape, and no one believes for a minute that he’s there against his will.

 The jabs and eye rolls continue from both parties, but on long nights, when the others are asleep and rabbit and soldier both find themselves awake, Warriors will scoop the bunny into his lap, losing himself in Apples’ fur before drifting off again.

 Wild has the pictures to prove it.

...

 Twilight sulks the entire time, the sadness in his eyes turning into a full-blown pout as he tries time and again to win Apples’ affection, earning teasing from all parties, but especially Wars.

 “I didn’t even want the thing, and he insists on climbing all over me!” The captain jests. “Yet you court him with more care than a knight with a lady he favors and he still rejects you!”

 The rancher’s scowl and accompanying growl always sends Apples closer to whatever other hero is nearest, the rancher’s eyes narrowing as he huffs out retorts that go from being teasing to being genuinely hurt. The captain stops after a time, apologizing, but Twilight blows him off, excusing it as teasing while clearly looking hurt.

 No matter what he tries though, food, cuddles, gentle words and careful movements, nothing will win the rabbit over, and when they again land in a world that none of them recognize, it’s too late to keep trying.

...

 Ravio blinks down in surprise as the rabbit that sits in his living room. It’s raining wildly outside, and the animal is positively soaked, so he can hardly deny it access, but even so, it’s not every day that woodland creatures are entering the house.

 …..Alright, not anymore. Not with Mr. Hero having gone missing.

 Only Sheerow flies about the house, chirping and singing as he helps Ravio with the housework and keeps the merchant comfortable, and while he doesn’t ind in the least being with only his bird friend, he does rather miss the constant presence of birds outside the windows and deer wandering in from the forest to graze in the front yard. Mr. Hero never minded them, claiming that the beasts kept the grass short, but Ravio knows his friend, and he’s seen Mr. Hero dozing while surrounded by woodland creature enough times to know that the affection the animals feel for his friend is mutual.

 Even so, Mr. Hero isn’t here, so there really shouldn’t be any forest creatures flocking into his house, especially not one that’s going through his things.

 “Hey! Stop!” The merchant protests, darting forwards and scooping up the creature in his arms, only to be met with familiar violet and golden eyes staring back at him. “Mr....Hero?”

 The bunny squeaks something that sounds like it might be in the affirmative, and Ravio stares.

 “How did you...” He’s leveled with an unimpressed stare that is all he needs to see to know for sure it’s his friend. “Were you cursed?”

 There’s a firm nod in return, and concern bubbles in his heart as the merchant holds his friend a bit tighter. “Can you reverse it?”

 Violet eyes roll, but Mr. Hero isn’t panicking, and he even points towards the chest in the corner where he keeps most of his adventuring things, which itself is enough reassurance that one of his many items (some of which are Ravio’s own handiwork) will do the trick to turn him back.

 “Oh good.” Ravio sighs, sagging in place and taking In his friend properly. Again, Mr. Rabbit Hero points at the chest, and he’s getting the idea that his friend wants him to let him go so he can change back but...

 Soft fur rubs at his fingers and the feeling of a small body held in his hands is just so pleasant!

 “One minute, please? Just one?” He pleads, turning on all the power he can as he aims a sorrowful look at his friend. “Your fur is so soft and I- can't I pet you for just a little bit, before you change back?”

 Mr. Bunny Hero sighs, but the huff and nod are easy to read and Ravio clutches his friend to his chest with a cheer. “Thank you Mr. Hero!”

...

 “Apples? Apples?” Wind’s voice is breaking by now as he calls out into the underbrush. The last switch had them all separated, and while the heroes have successfully regrouped, they’ve failed to be able to locate their fuzzy ninth member.

 “He’s got to be here somewhere!” Wild whispers, scratching at his scars worriedly and prompting his mentor to gently push his hands back down again, it does no good, the habit that died with fur to play with reappears in its absence, and Twilight’s pelt is too cumbersome and heavy to be carried and stroked while they walk.

 “Apples?” Sky chokes out, staring at the path before them, but nothing can be seen except a lone traveler who stalks along stiffly towards them.

 “We’ll ask this traveler.” Time sighs, eyes heavy with worry as he pushes to the front of the group, raising a hand in greeting. “Ho there.”

 “Ho.” The traveler returns, sharp violet eyes staring at them all from under pink and rose-gold bangs that peek out from beneath a blue cap. “What brings fighters like you into these parts?”

 “we’re looking for a rabbit.” The captain says, taking no consideration for how ridiculous he sounds. “Normal size, but as pink as a cherry tree, you can’t miss him.”

 Hopeful gazes turn to the stranger, who’s gaze darts away for a brief moment. “Sounds like my boarder’s pet.” There’s a strain to the man’s- or is he a boy?- voice as he speaks. “He disagreed a few months back and only came back yesterday. His-His owner was delighted.” The stranger speaks slowly, flushing slightly as he meets their eyes with an awkward attempt at a smile.

 “He...he already had a family?” Wind and Wild both droop, and the other’s all sigh in collective disappointment as the stranger shifts before them, the light catching in the hilt of the sword on his back.

 “Yeah... Sorry if you got attached.” The stranger winces, incredibly awkward as his eyes dart over them all, as if desperate to find anything else to talk about. “Why so heavily armed, just to look for a bunny?”

 “Monsters.” Sky answers softly, eyes downturned as he twists his cloth in his fingers.  

 “Aren’t those for heroes and soldiers to bother with? Not common folk?”

 “We aren’t exactly common.” Time explains. “Monster fighting is sort of our job.”

 “Uh huh.” The stranger shifts back on his heels. “Last I checked, the only person the royal family was hiring to get rid of monsters was me, and I don’t recall hearing any changes about that recently.”

 “Why you?” Wild tilts his head to one side, curiosity mingling with his sadness as he takes in the stranger.

 “Hero’s duty.” The other drawls,, scowling slightly as his nose scrunches up, wiggling the tiniest bit in distaste.

 “You’re a hero?” Warriors deadpanned, disbelief tainting his voice as he looked from pegasus boot clad feet up to red and green tunics, fluffy golden hair and sharp violet eyes. Said eyes stared back with an intensity that was strangely familiar, irritation glinting in their depths.

 “Unfortunately, yes.”

 And just like that, the Hero of Legend joined their group.

...

BONUS

 Twilight blinked down at the pink rabbit in front of him in shock. “Apples?”

 Apples- Legend? -The pink bunny- shuffled his feet, ears twitching as violet eyes flickered from the rancher's blue eyes and back down to the ground. “Um...chances that this is kept a secret?”

 Disbelief pained the Ordonian’s face. “Do you know how much they’ve missed you?”

 “I was right there.”

 “And you never told them?”

 “Well, you never owned up to being Wolfie, not last time I checked!” The bunny hero shot back, nose shivering in frustration.

 “They don’t need to know about that,” The rancher dismissed. “That sort of power isn’t something I feel comfortable sharing.”

 “Well newsflash,” Legend scowled. “I didn’t either. And it’s not like I could change back to prove myself or something, I was cursed! Anyways, can you imagine how absolutely off the hook crazy I’d sound if I just waltzed up to you and said ‘hey I’m the Hero of Legend and I’m also the bunny that’s been with you for the last two months.  was cursed but now I’m not, want me to join?’”

 Twilight scowled. “Fine. Valid. One question first.”

 “Deal.” Legend groaned.

  “Why did you never let me pet you?”

 “I’m sorry, what?” Violet blinked up at the rancher in confusion.

 “Why did you never let me pet you.” Twilight repeated simply.

 The veteran bunny stared up at him, blinking slowly. “You are a freaking wolf. Did you not notice? I may not have known it at the time, but do you think a rabbit can look at a wolf and go ‘hey look! New friend’?” At the wolf shifter’s silence, Legend scoffed. “Yeah. That’s why.”

 “Okay, valid.” Twilight nodded. “But one last thing, why didn’t you never talk?”

 “Cursed.” legend rolled his eyes. “The nature of this one is different, I’m just my soul's reflection, not an actual animal, there’s a difference, and it’s one I’d like to not have to worry about for much longer. Now, how do I change back?”

 “Well,” The rancher offered a weak smile. “We’re gonna have to ask Sky for help.”

 That night, rather than sitting by the fire until he drifted off, Sky settled down next to Legend, pulling the hero into his arms happily as the vet had put up token protests before snuggling against him. Sky hadn’t slept as well in months, and Twilight took no small amount of joy in being able to play with the vet’s silky hair all through his watch.

#bunny legend #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu time #lu twilight #lu wind #lu wild #lu warriors #lu sky #lu hyrule #lu four #lu ravio #bunny legend my beloved! #fluffics #cuz I'm sad so I love on Legend #defensive legend #idiot writes fluff #hugs legenda

[gotnofucks]

Sweet Tooth

Paring: Lee Bodecker x Reader

Summary: Sheriff, you and his sweet tooth.

Words: 2.2k

Warning: Smut, weird smut, mushy smut, 18+ ONLY

A/N: Goddamn you all! I didn’t know I’d be writing another Bodecker after finishing SMS but damn are you all relentless. Here is your soft!chubby!sheriff. Combining two requests here. Hope you Hoe-deckers like it.

MASTERLIST

+++++

You drove to your fiancé’s house, smoothening the dress once you got out. You had put a lot of time in styling your hair today. Lee would be meeting your parents for the first time, and you were already nervous about it. Your father had not been happy to know that you were marrying a man who didn’t even bother to ask his permission. Things only went south when you pointed out that the only permission he needed to marry you was yours.

You were hoping your mother would mediate the meeting tonight and were glad your brother couldn’t make it, because that meeting would have spelled disaster. You were only doing this tonight because it was customary to do so, and because you couldn’t put it off anymore. Earrings dangling in your ear, you bounced inside the house.

“Lee, I’m here.” You said. You loved his house, with the fluffy rugs and candy wrappers between the couch cushions that crinkled when you got handsy over them. This would soon be your home too; you’ll be moving in your stuff in the next few weeks. Navigating the hall, you reached Lee’s bedroom and saw the door ajar. He was standing in front of the mirror, looking at himself. You don’t think he had even noticed you walk in, so intensely did he stare at his reflection.

“Honey?” You called and his eyes met yours in the mirror, sadness floating in them.

“Why are you marrying me?” He asked.

You tilted your head, not knowing what was going on.

“Lee? Hon, what’s wrong?” You asked as you saw him looking in the mirror again. You had never seen him look so vulnerable, and the look in his eyes tugged at your heart. You set your bag down on the table and joined him in front of the mirror, holding his hand. His face was flushed, and you felt like he was seconds away from breaking down.

“Why are you marrying me?” He asked again and you breathed deeply.

“Because I love you.” You answered him, putting a hand on his cheek. He leaned into your touch, nose bumping your palm.

“How can you love me? I mean, look at me!” He exclaimed, pushing away and spreading his arms, showing his body. “You deserve someone handsome, someone who doesn’t have a lump of mass hanging on his front.”

Your exhaled, finally understanding the situation. It was not the first time his insecurities had come into play, but so far, they had been well hidden and rare. You’d see him tighten his hold on your hand when you’d walk across other men in parks, or how he would tighten his belt more than necessary when meeting your friends. You would see him throwing away his chocolates and candies, trying to be like ‘other men’.

You knew you would have to deal with this delicately because Lee was a proud man. He had a hard exterior that shaded his soft inside, and one wrong move could bruise his tender ego. Pursing your lips at him, you deliberately moved into his space, letting your body rub against his soft belly. Yours arms wrapped around his neck and you pulled him down, letting your mouth meet his in a deep kiss.

“Lee Bodecker, you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. I love you because you carry a blanket in your car because you know I get cold easily. I love you because you massage my feet after I remove my heels. I love you because you carry me in your arms wherever I wish. I love you because you kiss me in a way that gives me a taste of heaven. I love all of you Lee, including this mass of lump as you called it because its you.”

He sagged against you, heart right below your ear as his arms circled you, pulling you harder into him and his head resting on yours. You let your hands run through his hair, caress his head then back and in the end squeeze his butt. That got him to laugh a little, and if he sniffled you didn’t mention it.

“You love me then, even if I eat enough candies to stick my teeth together?” He asked.

You looked at him with a smile that made his heart flutter like an excited butterfly.

“I love you for it. I’d much rather you eat those sugar lollies if they keep you from the bottle. Not to mention you have by far the most deliciously kissable lips in this fucking town.”

His lips began twitching, eyes returning to their mischievous glint that you loved. He bent down to give you one of those delicious kisses, his mouth tasting of chocolate. You moaned and ground yourself against him, his bulge hardening against your thigh. Pulling away he growled, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip and you squealed, the taste of him and blood filling your mouth.

“What will your papa say when he knows you’re marrying a man who’s had you in every possible position before marriage, eh?” He teased and you pulled on his collar to lick his neck.

“Don’t worry, we’ll tell them we’re marrying because I comprised your virtue.”

He started laughing, a happy laughing that made his belly jiggle. Kissing your nose, he cupped your face, running his fingers through your now ruined hair.

“And what if your mommy finds me…lacking?”

You could feel how much it bothered him, the thought of your parents. He had been trying to learn everything about them, to earn their approval despite you telling him it didn’t matter. But you would be damned if you let anyone make the love of your life feel inadequate.

“Lee, I’m marrying you, not their opinion. They can pronounce you the Devil and I will sin the rest of my life away so I make way home to hell and you after I die. I love you my dear, with every last part of me.”

Love and passion rose in you like a giant wave and you impulsively tossed away your earrings. You neared him, his face a look of awe.

“You know what, we’ve put off this meeting for months. Maybe a few more days won’t hurt.”

He kissed you hard, humming in agreement and picking you up by the waist and carrying you to his bed. Your bed.

“How can I ever thank you for being in my life” He murmured, and you smirked.

“You can start by worshiping the lumps of flesh on my body” You said, letting your dress fall away to reveal your bare body. His eyes darkened and he unbuttoned his shirt, unveiling what was to you a body made to provide comfort and pleasure. You fondled him, carefully, softly, teasingly. He worshiped you and later that night you showed him how much you appreciate him.

+++++

You writhed, moaning as Lee’s tongue weaved magic between your legs. Whoever said marriage got boring after a while had never met Lee Bodecker. The noises he made turned you on almost as much as his tongue thrusting in your heat and you clawed at your husband’s back, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Oh god, oh fuck Lee!” You shout and fell off the cliff, heat bursting from you. Lee lapped at your juice, slurping like a man thirsty in desert. You panted with a satisfied, completely sexed up look on your face. His chin was dripping with your essence and you clenched around nothing.

“Fuck!” Lee suddenly exclaimed, looking with wide eyes at your still drenched pussy. You jumped up, wondering if you got your period but found no blood on your thighs.

“What?” You asked and Lee stuttered, running a hand through his damp hair.

“I uh, I lost the jolly rancher.” He said and you blinked.

“What?”

“I lost the jolly rancher. Inside you.”

You struggled for a moment to understand what he said before screeching. You jumped off the bed and started bouncing on your toes, trying to dislodge the candy from your cunt.

“What the fuck Lee! Why would you put a candy in me? Get it out. Get it out!” You shout and you husband paced around you, trying to bend his head and see if it fell out of you.

“I like the taste of it on you!” He said in defense and you growled in anger. He looked at your helplessly, watching you jump and bounce until he finally took your hand and tugged you to a stop.

“Lay back on the bed, let me search.” He said and you shot him a look before doing as he said. Spreading your legs his fingers probed your entrance, wiggling inside you. You suppressed a moan, reminding yourself that this was not for pleasure. Your spongy flesh within quivered at his touch and you ground your teeth, curses hissed at him from between them.

“How deep are you?” He asked in frustration, eyes level with your most intimate part. You almost suggested he should go get his flashlight when his fingers brushed against a small object inside you. Carefully plucking it between his thumb and finger, he pulled out the wet candy and showed it to you triumphantly.

“You bastard, what if we didn’t find it? Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would have been to ask a doctor to remove it!” You complained but Lee didn’t give a fuck. His eyes heated over, becoming almost liquid as he pinned you down with his stare. You whimpered pathetically when he placed the candy before his lips, tongue coming out to swirl around it and then popping it in his mouth, licking his fingers clean of the remaining juice.

“They can make as many new flavors as they want, but god if the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted is you.” He bent over you, mouth meeting yours and his tongue transferred the candy to you, the flavor of it mixing with the natural musk of you and Lee’s lips. You moaned indecently, anger dissipating as heat bloomed between your legs again.

God bless the moment you agreed to marry this horny bastard.

+++++

You thought you were being sneaky, but your husband was not a Sheriff for nothing. He could smell a lie from miles away, and as he glared at you with folded arms you felt like a child being scolded.

“Did you steal from me?” He asked again and you shook your head like before, widening your eyes in a show of innocence. He raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.

“I’m sure you must have forgotten.” You commented and Lee banged his fists on the table.

“You know I count my candies! You stole them. I left 9 in the drawer, now there are 6.” He accused and you stood up, mimicking him and banging the table too, angry as well.

“You can’t prove shit! What’s your evidence?” You countered and Lee growled. He came around the table and tugged you to his chest, eyes gleaming dangerously.

“I know that when I leave home you drink my juice and top the rest with water. I know when you tamper with my secret stash because you fucking left bite marks in the chocolate bar. You are a shitty criminal my wife.”

He glowered at you and you finally pouted in surrender. You hugged him, letting your ear rest over his heart. One finger tracing patterns on his chest you peeked up at him, eyes wide and innocent.

“You always eat them alone. I want some too, but you are bad at sharing.” You said. Lee looked down at your thoughtfully, a snort escaping him and he nuzzled your head. Rocking you in his arms he lifted you on the table, grabbing your knees and spreading them apart, stepping between your open legs.

“You insane woman, I’m sharing my life with you. If you wanted my candy you only needed to ask.” Saying that he brought out a candy from his pocket and unwrapping it popped it in your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked on it, a moan escaping you at the tangy taste and Lee’s eyes darkened with lust, knowing that expression from when you suck on him. It was stupid really, but he felt jealous of the candy in your mouth. He licked his lips as he watched you suck, pants tightening.

It was like you could read his thoughts and you giggled. Pushing the candy to one side of your mouth so your cheek bulged out, you pulled Lee into a kiss, his tongue quickly sweeping inside to lick at the sweet.

“You don’t need to be jealous Sheriff. These candies may be tasty, but lord knows my favorite lolly lies in your pants”

+++++

Drabbles Masterlist

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker #soft!lee bodecker #fluff #body postivity

[queenxxxsupreme]

In the Lamplight (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

A/N: This has really no plot except I got upset because of what Arthur can say when he looks in a mirror and it makes me just wanna hug him and kiss the sad cowboah away. Also, I’m trying out Arthur calling his S/O pumpkin instead of the usual ‘darlin’. Here’s another Arthur Morgan fluff if you wanna take a look at it:)

Warnings: self image issues, Arthur having issues with himself as a person??? I don’t know the right way to word it, self conscious!Arthur Morgan, shy!Arthur Morgan I think?, sad but fluffy ending, very fluffy 

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: Arthur has issues with himself, but you do your best to make sure he knows just exactly why you love him. 

**picture isn’t mine**

The light from the oil lamp flickered, casting ominous shadows across Arthur’s face. 

He stood in front of the mirror in just a pair of jeans, studying his features with a scowl etched into his face. He was in the process of changing when he caught sight of himself on the reflective surface. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t look, but he couldn’t help it. 

He could see more wrinkles by his eyes than he recalled from the last time he had looked into a mirror. For as long as he could remember, he had a few sunspots on his face. It came with years of working outside, of being out in the elements and exposed to the sun. 

Scars littered nearly every inch of his skin. Some were big and nasty looking, while others were small and barely visible. 

A hand on his side made him blink, pulling him from his trance-like state. 

You were peaking around his shoulder, peering up at him with your brows knit together. 

“Is everything okay?”

“Just fine, pumpkin.”

“Then why were you starin’ for so long?” You looked to the mirror, rubbing your hand up and down his side. 

“Just cause.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Why’d you get outta bed? Ya aren’t wearin’ any socks. Your feet are gonna get cold.”

“I called your name twice. You didn’t answer.” You kissed his bare shoulder. “Had me worried.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“M’thinkin’ about tomorrow, pumpkin. We gotta long trip ahead of us. Gotta make it to camp before sundown. Don’t wanna be travelin’ after nightfall.”

You nodded and moved to get into bed, pulling up your chemise so you could climb into the bed. 

“How many scars you reckon I get a year?” Arthur asked, unbuckling his belt and shucking off his pants. 

“Just depends on how many reckless and stupid decisions you make in a year.” You pulled the blankets up over your legs. 

He barked out a laugh, but it was short lived. 

You watched Arthur as he sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He let out a heavy breath, running a hand over his face. 

“You ever…. You ever think ‘bout anyone else?”

You drew your brows together, tilting your head to the side.

“What kind of question is that, Arthur?”

He sat back, rubbing his thigh as he locked his jaw for a moment. 

“At the saloon earlier…. That fella that was gettin’ chatty with you…. Who was he?”

You were quiet for a few moments, carefully reading Arthur’s body language. He was rigid and tense, and he sat on the opposite end of the bed from you. It was like he was trying to put space between you two.

You knew how insecure he was about himself, though he rarely vocalized it. He hated how he looked and he hated himself. It hurt you to know how poorly he felt about himself. 

“A rancher. Didn’t catch his name.” You answered, glancing down at your hands. You brushed your fingers over the top quilt, tracing the stitching to keep your hand occupied.

The man he was talking about was some stranger who had tried to get friendly with you at the saloon in town earlier in the evening when you and Arthur stopped in for drinks. Arthur stepped out for a moment and when he returned, there was a man, maybe ten years younger than him, in his seat. You didn’t flirt with him and Arthur knew this, but the voice in his head had been getting louder and louder all evening, demanding that he address the situation. 

“I wasn’t interested in findin’ out.”

“Why not?” Arthur didn’t look at you. He was too busy staring at the floor in front of him. 

“That’s a silly question. Because I have you.”

He cleared his throat, shifting in his spot. 

“Do I-I hold you back?”

“That’s another silly question. Where is this coming from?” You looked up at him. 

“I’m just…. I don’t know. Just thinkin’.”

“Well you better stop all that thinkin’. It’s not doin’ you a lick of good. You don’t hold me back from anything, Arthur.”

He said nothing, keeping his eyes on the floorboards in front of him. 

You wanted to lay down, to tell him that you both needed the sleep, but you knew he just needed time.

You stayed sitting against the headboard, eyes flickering around the room for a while. You didn’t want to fall asleep without him. 

“Be honest with me, pumpkin.” He murmured quietly, his eyes still avoiding yours. He messed with his fingers now, picking at his nails. “Tell me something that you don’t like about me.”

“Arthur-,”

“Don’t go telling me that nonsense ‘bout how you like everything about me. That’s horseshit.” He cut you off, but he never raised his voice. “Be honest with me.”

“You want me to be honest?”

He nodded, eyes closing as if he was  preparing himself to hear the worst. 

You pushed the quilts off of yourself and shifted around to sit on your knees. 

“Come here, Arthur.” You spoke his name softly, patting the space on the bed in front of you. 

He hesitated, blue eyes flickering from your hands to the bed, then up to you. 

He stood up and moved around the bed, coming to sit on the edge next to you. He was being stubborn and not facing you, so you climbed into his lap. 

Instinctually, his hands came up to hold on to your backside. 

You reached up to cup his jaw, fingertips brushing along his scruff. He leaned into your touch for just a moment. You wished he did it more often. 

You let your index and middle finger create an imaginary line along his jaw to his chin. From there, you went down the front of his neck. Your eyes followed your touch, admiring every little scar that tried to hide beneath his growing beard. 

He swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing beneath your fingers. You smiled a little. His eyes fluttered shut. 

“There is so much to you, Arthur Morgan.” You whispered. “So much to admire and to love about you.”

Your touch traveled down to his collarbone. You found a scar from a knife there. The skin was jagged and much more pale than the rest of him. 

You recalled hearing about how it was from one of the O’Driscolls. He’d run out of bullets and ended up in a knife fight with another man. Lenny recalled there being three O’Driscolls in all, but Arthur never went into detail about it. 

Arthur watched you, the way your eyes examined the scar carefully as if you’d never seen it before. He was just about to open up his mouth and ask you when you leaned forward to kiss it. 

Goosebumps broke out across his skin and a wave of heat rushed through him. 

He expected you to pull away, but you didn’t. You kissed the front of his neck and then nuzzled your nose against chin, gently coaxing him to tilt his head to the side. 

He was a little confused, but he followed your silent instructions, bearing his neck to you. He felt exposed and naked, more so than he did when you two were intimate. You were kissing his neck. Your hand was creeping up his chest, your featherlike touch trailing up along the opposite side of his neck that you were kissing. 

He let out a breathy gasp when your teeth scraped over his pulse. His hands tightened around his hips. 

“Hell are you tryin’ to do to me, Y/N?” He rasped.

“Just lovin’ up on you.” You teased lightly, doing your best to hide the smile on your lips. 

You pulled back, looking up at him. He held your gaze for maybe a split second before looking away. You caught his chin, holding him in your hands, and turned his head to you. 

“My least favorite thing about you, Arthur Morgan, has got to be the way you think so poorly about yourself. How…. how you think that after all we’ve been through, I’d leave you.” 

“‘Cause I know there’s men better suited for ya out there.” He mumbled, pulling your hand from his face. “I know I ain’t the greatest choice-,”

“You are for me, Arthur.” You cut him off. “You are the best choice for me.”

He shook his head, muttering a few incoherent words of disagreement under his breath. 

“Arthur Morgan, you stubborn man.” You sighed. “What makes you think you aren’t the best man suited for me?”

“‘Cause I look like an old sack of shit, goin’ round stealin’ and killin’ and…. And you- You’re just…. You’re fucking…. Can’t even find the words to fit you, pumpkin.” 

“I ain’t no show pony either, Arthur. I’ve done my fair share of sin. Shit, how the hell do you think me and Hosea met?”

He shook his head again. 

“I love you, Arthur Morgan.” You leaned forward to kiss his chin. “Even if you have your doubts about us.”

“I don’t doubt us.” His hand slipped around to the small of your back. With ease, he pulled you closer to him. “If I doubted us, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

“You doubt me. That I’m going to stay.”

“That’s ‘cause…. ‘Cause everyone always leaves eventually.” His eyes drifted down to your chest, finding a scar where your collarbones met. “No one ever stays. I always push ‘em away. Either with my overly charmin’ personality or the whole career criminal.” He tried to make a joke to lighten the mood but you didn’t laugh. Now wasn’t the time for jokes. “Just tryin’ to prepare myself for when you do leave, pumpkin.”

“The only way I am leavin’ you, Arthur Morgan, is when I die.” You took hold of his jaw with both hands, tilting his head up so he had no choice but to meet your eyes. “I’m here and I’m not goin’ nowhere.”

His blue eyes watched you carefully, gazing into your own as his hands on the small of your back tightened a little, drawing you closer.

“I happen to like your personality. You’re a kind man with a big heart, and a funny sense of humor that not everyone gets.” You leaned forward to kiss the space between his eyes. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into you, resting his forehead against your chin. This made talking a little difficult, but you made it work. “And I’ve got a record as long as yours, Mr. Morgan. I don’t think I can use your criminal history against you. Actually, I think mine might be longer than yours….”

His broad shoulders trembled a little as he chuckled. 

“I know you haven’t had good luck in the past, Arthur.” You gently pushed him away so that you could look at him. You wanted to be able to see his eyes. “And I know every time that Linton girl writes a letter to you, it reopens old wounds, but you are more than her. You are more than just the gang. You have a big heart. You’re a good man and she’s an absolute jackass for making you think otherwise.”

“But…. how do you know that?” He asked quietly. 

You brushed your fingers through his hair, letting out a soft breath. 

“Let’s get comfortable in bed.”

You climbed off of him and clambered across the bed to settle underneath the blankets. Arthur followed behind you, getting comfortable too. You scooted as close to him as possible, hooking your leg up over his hip and resting your head on his shoulder. He slipped his arm around your back to hold you to him. You put your hand on his chest and began to trace shapes into his skin. 

“You don’t kill for fun, Arthur. You try to save as many people as you can when we do jobs. You go out of your way to help others when we’re out. You remember that mom who lost her son outside of Strawberry? You helped lead the search and even after everyone gave up, you kept looking for him. And you were the one to bring him home. Or how about how when we pass someone on the street who needs money, you give them enough for food? Arthur, you would give the clothes off of your back to a complete stranger in a blizzard to keep them warm if they needed it.”

“I guess so.” He muttered.

“You’re a stubborn man, Arthur.” You kissed his chest. “I guess it’s a good thing I get to spend the rest of our lives reminding you why you’re a good man.”

“The rest of our lives?” He repeated, looking down at you with raised brows. 

“Mhm.”

“Jesus.” He groaned, though you knew he was just teasing you. 

“Don’t worry, cowboy. With our lifestyle, we never know how long it’ll be. That’s the thrill of it all.” You smiled a little and closed your eyes.

Silence fell between you two for a little bit and just as you were about to fall asleep, you felt Arthur kiss the top of your head.

“Good night, pumpkin.”

“Night, Arthur.”

If you want to be on my taglist, just go here :)

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 fic #rdr2 fic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fic #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x reader fluff #arthur morgan fluff #queenxxxsupreme #oneshot #rdr2 oneshot

[sery-chan-13]

Childish

Niragi Suguru

So, a recent comment left by someone made me realize that there isn't many stories where the reader has a little space. I mean, I've noticed it as a person with one, so... yeah!

A quick explination for those of you that don't know what a little space is: A little space is when a person age regresses due to trauma. This could be situations from abuse to having to be an adult when you were a child. People use it to cope with all sort of trauma however(yes, being in a car crash, near death experiences etc. Etc.) When they age regress it can be to any age as well. Although a lot of people age regress to smaller ages (personally, my friend's little spaces (gave me permission to share) are of the ages of 4,5,7, and 3. I, of course, did research on how others experience it, but am mostly going off of how I personally experience my little space!

Warnings: blood, weapons, swearing, harassment(none done by Niragi towards the reader), soft Niragi things because I can't write his character canonly for the life of me-

Side note: there's a whole headcanon thing from I think @aceofspadegrass ? here on tumblr where there's pancakes on Fridays only and everyone goes nuts over it? Yeah, that inspired a section of this-

Niragi didn't know why he felt protective over you. You were just another girl at the beach. But he was protective over you since the first day he met you. It was a quick attachment on your side as well, feeling safe and protected around him. Although, you knew of his interest in you, you didn't want to bring attention to yourself. You already did by accidentally regressing in places around the beach. Or maybe being a bit to childish for your age. It wasn't your fault. You couldn't help it. And Niragi understood. That's why you were with him most of the time. He didn't mind your clingy or childish nature. No, he told you he thought you we cute for needing him so much. And you liked it when he called you cute. You felt safe.

You sat in the small field behind the beach, picking up dandelions and weaving them together into a crown. You kept humming quietly to yourself as you did. "What are you doing there princess?" You heard someone ask from behind you. It was Niragi. You knew his voice, you knew him. And you would never ever mistake his voice for someone else's. It was impossible. You smiled widely, showing him the bright yellow flower crown. He nodded, crouching down besides you. "Don't you have games tonight?" You questioned him, placing the flowers on his head. He looked at you, and up at the crown now placed on his head. He went to grab it off, but you grabbed his hand, interlocking your fingers with his. You pouted at the fact he was going to take it off, and he kissed your hand, muttering an apology of sorts into your hand. "Yeah. And so do you," he whispered. Neither of you wanted to be separated for the games, but you also didn't want to be in a game where there could only be one survivor. Of course, you didn't get to decide when you two would oand wouldn't play together, but it was so hard to not want to leave his side, but also not want to be the one left alive after a game. He had told you before that if it was a game where there could only be a sole survivor, you would be leaving. And that scared you. You couldn't think of life without Niragi caring for you, or giving you sweet words. After he met you, he started hating the fact he knew what others felt when they were waiting for their partners to get back. Now, you two had never really established what you two were, but you were really hoping he felt the same, because confessing was already stressful enough for you. You didn't want him to leave you alone.

"Niragi-"

"(Y/N)-"

You both spoke at the same time, making you laugh. "I'm going first. Because...yeah. You're mine, right?" He asked, looking at you. His dark eyes met your own, and you looked down. "W-whadya mean by that...?" You questioned, still looking away. He tilted your head to the side making you look at him. "You're mine, right? Mine means mine," he repeated. You understood what he was saying. "I'm yours, pinkie promise!"

You whimpered, clutching onto his shirt in pain. "Owie...  hurts," you whined. "I know sweetheart, I know," he whispered into your ear, glaring at all the people who looked at you weird as he carried you up to his room. More like your shared room, because you slept in there more than in your actual room.

You had gotten hurt during the game. This time, Niragi was there to help you. Some asshole had tried to use you as a shield, and you ended up getting hurt. Niragi quickly got rid of them, making sure to protect you.

He sat you on the bed, and watched you to make sure you didn't get hurt. " 'Shiya can help, can't he?'' You said, hissing in pain when you tried to move your leg. "No. That bastard isn't putting his hands on you. You're my princess," he stated. "Yours, I pinkie promised!" You reminded. You kicked your leg on reflex, and almost screamed in pain. "It hurts... pwease get 'im?" You begged, giving him the puppy dog eyes. He scowled, and then reluctantly nodded. "I would much rather you go to Ann though," he said, kissing your forehead. "But she has dead bodies down there... 's scary," you explained. "Yeah yeah.... I know sweetheart. Still... can you try and be brave?" He asked. You thought for a second, before nodding. "I can be brave!" You shouted. "But only for you," you mumbled.

It was your favorite day if the week. Not only was it Friday, and you got pancakes for breakfast, but it was also suply run day. At leat you got pancakes this week. Last week you gave them to Aguni because he helped you with one of your plants that was dying. Niragi was very confused on why you were crying over a plant, until Aguni gave him the look. You know, the dad look? The scary one when a boy goes home to pick up the daughter, and the dad is just giving the the look? Yeah, that's all it took for Niragi to leave it. And the week before you gave them to Last Boss because he got Niragi during one of your panic attacks. So that was no pancakes for two weeks. You were hoping nobody would guilt trip you or threaten you about you giving them your pancakes. It had happened before, and it would definitely happen again.

Niragi usually took you with him, unless they were going to a place he thought you would be in danger. Along with spending the day with Niragi, not having to wear a skimpy bathing suit, and eating pancakes, Niragi let you take some things back. Most of the times you picked out a stuffie, or a fluffy blanket. He also made sure you had suckers or jolly ranchers. Kuina had even once joked that his room was like a little nest for you.

"What do you mean a nest Kuina?" You questioned tilting your head to the side. "Hmm... have you ever read... no, I probably shouldn't tell you about that... like a bird's nest. The pair build a nest out of things they like so they feel safe and at home. And in the other thing I was going to mention... the... usually it's a girl, so I'm going to go with that. The female builds a nest out of clothes and things that smell like... her partner for neutrality's sake," she explained. You thought about it, and nodded slowly. ''I guess you could say that. I like the things that smell like him. Make me feel safe 'n warm," you giggled.

"Am I going with you today?" You asked him, having your fingers crossed behind your back. He nodded.

''You are st-"

"Staying right by your side or within arms reach. I know!" You interrupted, giggling at his worry. Although he wouldn't outwardly say it, you knew it was worry. "Good girl. Such a smart girl you are," he cooed. You smiled at the praise hugging him tightly. "Gi-gi..." you muttered. "Hm? What's up?" He asked. "Thank you."

You fell asleep on the way there, making Niragi be twice as much on edge. He was in the passenger seat, and you were in the back. Of course, you looked cute as always, but that's kind of what was the problem. He kept glancing back to make sure you were still there, and nothing was going on with you and the other people in the car.

"She's Niragi's girl, I wouldn't do that," he heard someone whisper in the back seat. He glared, glancing back for a second. "I don't really care... no rules, as he likes to say," he heard the other whisper back. This made him scowl in anger. You were his. And no one would dare fucking touch you. How dare this person try something while he's right in front of them. "S-suguru," you whined, still sleeping. He turned back, and glared at the person besides you. Their hand was on your inner thigh, high above where it should be. It shouldn't even be on you. "Hands off her. Now," he growled, his hand twitched trying to not reach for his gun and shoot the person. The other stared back defiantly, their hand going higher. He heard you whine his name again in your sleep. At least you were dreaming of him. But he was going to have to deal with this person. While they were next to you, he couldn't do much, as he didn't want to dirty your clothes. You had picked them out specifically for today. Specifically for him. And your beautiful face would get blood on it, he didn't want that. You looked too cute to get ruined by this person's blood all over you. "Stop the car," he told the driver. They did so, knowing that Niragi was not one to spare those who angered him. Especially when he was already pissed off. "You, out. Now. Since you think you're so good, come out here. If you're so confident, you'll be fine, no?" He asked, scowling at the man.

You stirred in your sleep, making Niragi cautious of what he did. Sure, you knew he had killed, and would continue to do so, but he never did it in front of you. If you happened to be in the room, or space, he would tell you to shut your eyes, cover your ears, and sing a little song until he came back. And you did. You were always pretty good about doing so, not wanting to trouble him with a possible panic attack. (He never minded helping you through them, and wished you would understand that.) But right now, you were asleep. And he couldn't tell you to do that.

The person got out of the car, staring at the gun. "Like that's fair," they muttered. Niragi rolled his eyes. "Life's not fair, get over it," he groaned. The person cracked their knuckles, and Niragi laughed. Like they could hurt him, he had a gun.

Boy was he wrong.

Of course, by the end, the person was no longer an issue. Dead most likely. And if not, to suffer from now until their slow, painful death. Niragi had not gone unscathed, however. The person had gotten in a few punches, making Niragi bleed.

"Fuck..." he groaned, wiping away the blood. The driver started driving again, and he heard you start to wake up.  He turned in his seat, seeing you yawn, and strech. "Mornin' " you muttered. "Good morning sweetheart," he said. You rubbed your eyes, and looked at him.

"Gi-Gi! You're bleeding! You ok? Hurt? What's wrong?" You panicked, reaching out to touch him. He pushed your hands back. He didn't want your hands dirty with that disgusting person's blood. "I'm fine, you worry about yourself for now."

You held onto his hand, swinging both his and yours arms back and forth as you two walked through the abandoned mall.

"And... that's the last thing on we needed. Which shop do you want to go to now?" He asked you. You smiled widely, tugging at his hand. "Stuffies stuffies stuffies!" You giggled. He laughed, "Alright, alright. Calm down first, and we'll see what we can find."

He was always kind to you. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't make him feel alone. The fact that he didn't want to be seen as a monster by you, even if he knew he was. He could pretend. He could pretend this was back in the normal world, and that the borderlands never happened. That he had really met you at the coffee shop he went to every morning, and not during a game where you almost died. He could pretend and lie to himself that he was a good person when he was with you. Because if you left him, or even worse, you died... he knew he would go back to being alone.

And you felt safe around him. Maybe it was the fact he saved you during the game you two met in. The fact he wasn't weirded out the first time you had regressed. You loved him. Even if you knew of all the people he's killed or the things he's done. He hadn't left you to die. He hadn't hurt you, and something told you he wouldn't. He trusted you, and you trusted him. And as long as there was the feelings of love, saftey, understanding, and trust, you'd stay. This meant you'd always be with him, because there was not a doubt in your mind those feelings would always be there.

Yay, first one done! I hope you enjoyed, and please always remember to stay hydrated, and eat because you deserve it! ♡♡♡♡

#alice in borderland #niragi #×reader #fluff #🎶please don't kill me i just want to include diverse things in my writing🎶 #i will write more for the rest after work tomorrow #promise

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Our Nightly Confidant 5

Four steps in my shoes

Four feels strongly.

In general, as a rule, but also in this specific situation, where sweat sticks his hair to his forehead and the pegasus boots chaff from constant overuse. From the slight burn of his arm muscles that nonetheless keep swinging the Four Sword.

Amazingly, the emotion at the forefront of his mind cannot be easily and neatly assigned to one facet of him. Annoyance isn't exclusive to any one side of him, quite the contrary. And the 'you can go die!' disdain is a taaaaad too specific as well.

White paws sweep at him and barely miss the top of his head. Would have hit Ezlo, if this had been his first adventure. The pang of nostalgia doesn't help his focus much.

Small bursts of magic and swings of his boomerang sting enough to keep his enemy on the backfoot. Behind him, a few roots twist enough for an opening beneath the trunk. If he can just...

The paw slams inches away from where he was standing a second earlier.

Urgh. It had to happen after they marched all day in search of civilization, didn't it?

Well, nothing to it, Four adjusts his sword and glares back at the slitted eyes trailed on him.

Which is when the loudest, most thunderous bark he ever heard rips the air in half and hammers in his eardrums. The white monster (cat) yowls in fright, fur straight up in horror, back arched, and it sprints right up a tree.

Wolfie is a familiar sight, and a welcome one at that.

But some instinctive part of him that is more Minish than Hylian can't help grip the Four Sword tighter.  From this perspective, Wolfie has more in common with Wild's divine beasts than a regular animal. His claws look about as tall as Four himself. And at the moment, the wolf is displaying a mouth full of fangs that promise a painful death.

He doesn't blame the cat for scampering. He's seen what those fangs can do to a throat. Or a wrist. Or an ankle. Not, really, he thinks the cat shows great wisdom in getting the hell out of Wolfie's range.  

But, because he is a Hero of Courage, he flips the sword in his hands, sheathes it and waves his arms.

“Twilight!”

The shift is instantaneous, and a little amazing to witness. The ears perk up, the posture straightens from its crouch, the teeth all disappear behind the black lips. It's a flip of Pacci's cane, a turn on a rupee, and there's the big beast their group loves.

“You okay there, Smithy?” Twilight asked, sniffing him for signs of injuries.

It's strange, hearing Twilight's voice coming through the sort of mental-bond-language of the Minish. Useful though. He's not certain he currently possesses the patience for some games of charades with a wolf.

“No injuries.” He puts a hand on the damp nose even as a burst of hot air washes over him. “Just a bit out of breath.”

“Right.”

It's not a doubtful tone, but there's some Time-patented exasperation in there.

“I would have been fine, you know?” says the part of Four that is a bit younger. “I dealt with lots of monsters even at this size.”

(Not Wolfie size though, that he thinks might be beyond him when shrunk.)

The flat look he receives makes him want to squirm.

He's too controlled for that.

“Yes, yes, I know.” He waves off the implied question. “I thought the innkeeper's cat was still inside.”

“He was. But after he mewled a bit, his owner let him out. And when I didn't see you... I had a feeling.”

Four wants to hit his head against a tree. Animals always were more aware of the scent of Minish magic. Many eyed him curiously when he walked through town. He should have known the cat would want to stalk after him. Probably thinking he knew where a village was hidden. He's going to have internal arguments about this all night.

“Cats are all bastards.”

To Four's amazement, Twilight's tail curls between his legs, his ears drooping. He rather looks more the guilty dog part than the majestic beast he insists he is.

“... But they're so cuddly.”

“When you're bigger than them, maybe,” Four deadpans. “Sneaky little shits.”

Twilight's whine is absolutely ridiculous and enough to make him snicker.

“Fine, fine. I'm not deaf, I hear what they say. Not as bad as cuccos, though.” Twilight's gaze wanders off to a faraway place. “Nothing is as bad as those psychotic birds.”

They lose a moment reliving their trauma over the feathered fiends.

Twilight shakes it off first. He lies down, his body like a hill of dark fur before Four, and hints at his back. Any protest Four might have had before dies in the face of his aching legs. He can fight off monsters at this size, but it's unreasonably more complicated. And he is not in the mood to stab spiders in the face tonight.

The fur is silky under his fingers, which is comforting but also a bit of a pain. Climbing means parting the coat of dark hairs and finding grip against skin. Sometimes, the body under him flinches or trembles, like Twilight is fighting off the urge to roll over. Four imagines it's quite similar to tickling. So he hurries up and makes his way up to the top of Twilight's head. Between the ears and roughly around the markings on his forehead.

Satisfied, Twilight stands, and the whole world blurs like he's still using his pegasus boots. A few more steps are needed before Four's body adjusts to the speed, and then he can relax. Twilight's safe.

And, he notes, not heading straight for the inn.

“We noticed the looks, you know,” Twilight says, because he's one of those busybodies that can't help mother cucco everyone around him till they are 'right as rain over a spring'.

“So?” he replies, even, practiced.

(Zelda had questions, at first, then orders that were swiftly obeyed, when in her sight. He hasn't told her that yet.)

“... How many of them do that?”

Do what? He wants to ask. The inn's owner had been quite polite, very careful in avoiding certain words around Four. Indeed so careful that Four could feel their syllables get more and more defined by the innkeeper's silence.

“Whisper?” he settles for. “A few. I'm weird, I know. Shorter than some kids, but can lift a hammer to forge. Own my business outside Castle Town, only shows up for groceries, talks to myself sometimes and stares at empty spots on shelves. I don't know, I suppose they expected me to apprentice beforehand, but there was a kingdom to save and what did that matter then?”

He punches the ground next to him before remembering too late it is Twilight's head.

The growl doesn't last. But the first few words he says are a bit more bitten out than the tone implies.

“There's a kid in my village. Younger than you. Couldn't lose the baby fat in his face for the longest time.” Twilight snorts, and his tail wags a bit. “And he's smart, really smart, a lot more mature than his older brother too.”

Four has a feeling that's partially due to the older brother's personality, but holds his tongue.

“People whispered behind his back. 'That boy is so creepy.'”

“Fey-touched,” Four says before he can hold back the red in him.

That one hurt. He's picked up habits from the Minish, he's aware. Little things like leaving keystones lying around for other kids or tiptoeing minish rings in the grass. But for those differences to matter so much, he hadn't expected until the first time the words had been floating around him.

“Ah,” Twilight says, followed by a whole lot of nothing.

Crickets around them sing. He can almost see some Minish putting a collar on the bugs to bring them home for a concert. Moving from behind stalks of grass, praying to the moon and the goddesses.

Then, Twilight says: “That takes me back.”

Four stumbles through the fur, his hands grasping on some new strands, but he can't tell if his unbalance is due a jolt in their steps or to the enormity of the idea. Twilight, the stereotypical rancher, seen as an outsider?

He tries, but all his brain conjures up is a much shorter version of Twilight dragging goats by the horns. That and dancing (badly) to the melody of a grass whistle.

Even from his spot atop Twilight's head, the eye roll is obvious despite being out of sight. “The only Hylian in a village of Humans?” he drawls. “Found as a toddler lost in the woods? Hardly able to speak for a while?”

Oh, Four thinks, that'd do it.

“They don't have the right to say that to you,” Twilight growls. “You're their hero.”

He could bask in the warmth. Lets himself lie down on Twilight and forget all about the events of tonight.

Curiosity wins, or well, violet does. “What did you do?”

“Nothing special? Just stayed the same and let them talk.”

Four's eyes bug out. “That's it? Nothing? How does that change anything?”

“When you're you, Four... When you're a good person regardless of rumors and whispers... Idiots don't stop talking, but the ones that are worth it stop listening.” A wolfish grin breaks out on Twilight's face. “Besides, you should have seen their black eyes after Rusl heard them say it to my face. After that... well, they could have called me the King of Evil and it wouldn't have mattered. Knowing you got someone in your corner's better than hollow praise from idiots.”

Four blushes.

He forgot for a bit, and he'll apologize to Zelda when he sees her, but it's true. Whenever he recalls that moment, the guard's words aren't ever the same. The phrasing lost all its power, outshone by the impassioned defense and the sheer anger wielded by his friend.

His back straightens. And he allows himself some childish pride in having the Princess of Hyrule in his corner. What do they have to beat that?

Twilight rumbles a laugh. “So... yeah, ignore them. Put them in their place if you want, the goddesses know you have the strength to do it, but that won't change their minds about anything. If you want some peace of mind, discard the idiots.”

Companionable silence falls between them. Four doesn't feel the need to speak after that bit of reassurance. They circle the woods, avoiding Hylians late on the road and monsters alike. Twilight's seemingly content just taking him on a ride, and Four's loath to admit he wants the moment to last a little longer.

They're not too far back from their starting point when he decides to ask: “About that kid?”

“Malo?”

“Yeah, him, how does he deal with it?”

Twilight does not answer right away. He first jumps over some large, gnarled roots and growls at a fox that seemed a bit too curious about the smell of Minish magic. Four's grateful for the time to calm his pounding heart.

“Well, Malo just stares at them until they get uncomfortable. Then he asks them what they're looking for. It never seems to affect him too much.” – discomfort hits at that, and Four can't tell why – “But, well, it also happened in front of me, you know? And I take after my Pa. So I might have knocked a couple of heads together in Casle Town. Followed by a strong talking to. Not that Malo appreciated that I ran off some of his customers.” A sigh. “That kid, I swear.”

Four grimaces. That type of 'customers'. Will think they bless his forge with their presence, praise him to all ends, then turn around and whisper. “I'm sure he's grateful inside.”

“Eh, I hope so, but it's his call in the end. Can't live his life for him.” Some muscles roll, and Four gets the impression of a shrug. “Speaking of, what do you want to do, Smithy?”

The question takes him by surprise, and it's silly that he didn't expect it.

He knows that Twilight would spend the night outside with him if he asks. They're no strangers to outdoor camping and the woods of his era are less dangerous than most. Wolfie would intimidate most if not all the creatures that live inside it.

But it would be illogical to sleep in the woods when they have more than enough rupees to pay for some rooms in a local inn.

Four is reasonable. It's one of his trademarks as a Hero. Mature for his age. Calm. Collected. It's how he's taken seriously as an adventurer. Why would he shatter an illusion that useful? Over some mild ostracization?

'Serve it cold,' says one quarter of him.

Another sides with Twilight. Their big brother made a good point. They couldn't be bothered by every single ungrateful person out there. They'd always exist, so let them stew in jealousy and paranoia and fear. He has the favor of the Princess, his best friend. What does he need anger for against a countryside shop owner?

But, the blue in him counters with an hammer-like argument: 'No, the best revenge is both.'

The others would be a little mad, he thinks. A little.

He's usually mature enough not to get in trouble. He's due for some insanity and explosions. Wild would back him up here. And it might be his voice in his head that pushes the words out of his mouth.

“So, not that I haven't listened to a word you said, but, hypothetically, if I needed help knocking heads together...”

“How many heads? Wars mentioned an interesting technique he learned from his sparring with some Sheikah general the other night. Though, if you'd rather, I can say, without boasting, that a lot of grown men weep at this form. It's embarrassing for everyone, I tell you.”

Four snorts, struck by mischief. “We're going to need to find a stump. I might have a plan.”

Yes, Four contemplates, the glint of wolf fangs under the moonlight is just as terrifying as he figured it would be. He can't wait.

                                                        ***

Legend is silently debating with Sky over the right to punch the innkeeper in the face. It's a fierce debate communicated entirely through raised eyebrows, scrunched up nose, muted snarls and meaningful looks.

The others' patience is steadily fraying at the edges. It's especially noticeable with their youngest. There are fireworks going off on Wind's face. The knife cutting his slab of meat to pieces steadily stabs into it every time the innkeeper's mouth opens.

“And where are you fine young men traveling to?” he says with a customer pleaser smile.

'Fine young men'. Ah! There's a thing he didn't say about Four. The fucking nerves of this man.

“Far,” Time replies, his tone even, but his expression thoroughly unimpressed.

“Ah, yes, of course...” the innkeeper says agreeably. “You, huh, you'll be going with the, ahem, with the boy, I imagine?”

How dare he sound hopeful? And 'boy'?! This man's livelihood is owed to the smithy! And he doesn't even have the excuse of mind control!

A hint of shame tickles the back of his mind, when he had first heard the innkeeper talking. He had sounded nothing like the ones from his era, who sometimes refused him entry outright on the basis of old and false accusations.

This current attitude was, technically speaking, a strict improvement over that.

But does the man have to come alive and become so at ease serving them food whilst the Hero of this land take a walk outside? Alone, at night?

Legend grunts into his mug. The rancher left after the smithy, so that ought to solve the 'feelings' question. A bit of a stick-in-the-mud he might be, but Twilight's one of the few he would trust to help navigate difficult feelings. He's got the patience for it, unlike a lot of them who tackle everything the way they do a dungeon, with reckless abandon.

Yet, in the cozy warmth of the fire in the hearth, over the hesitant plucking of the minstrel's chords, a howl suddenly calls to the moon.

They, alone, do not tense.

The howl echoes a second time, much louder. Closer.

The innkeeper shoots them a desperate look, but Legend suddenly realizes that he is blind, and possibly deaf. He has no reason to stand up, much less draw his sword. And, would Farore look at that, his condition is contagious!

The hinges creak as they inch open.

If Legend were not so experienced, he might have been nervous. But he's better than that. He leans back in his seat, places a hand on Hyrule's shoulder, and sips his ale.

There in the doorway, cut in shadows with the moon as backdrop, riding on a large grey wolf, Four raises both arms high in the air.

“Fear my unnatural power,” he says with as ominous a voice he can produce.

Warriors snorts, cheeks reddened by alcohol, and he gives a thumbs-up to their smith, despite the owner's pale complexion.

The mugs left on the table begin to shake. Oh, this is gonna be good.

It starts with a pair of squirrels and a owl, neither obeying their instincts in favor of swooping inside the inn. Followed by a handful of moles, fireflies and stray dogs.

In a flash of white, the inn's cat bolts inside the inn, meowing, till it reaches its owner's legs and climbs onto him. It perches itself on his bald head, seconds before the first deer bounces inside the building.

Epona breaks the first table.

But the three raccoons lunging after his cat are what make the owner scream.

Legend guffaws in his ale.

#Linkeduniverse #Linked Universe #LU Twilight #LU Four #LU Wolfie

[ordonianhero]

Dawn of a new Adventure

A Linked Universe fan fiction. No real warnings needed other then a bit of language. its 2,408 words. Angst/fluff. Little bit of everyone involved. 

Synopsis: The weather get really bad and they just need to find shelter. However the more they journey the worst their moral and mood get. Things get testy. will they find shelter?

Authors note: this came about with our own stormy winter weather blasting through where I live. I hope you enjoy. feel free to create art from any of this or any of my other writings. I would love to see what stuck out to all you creators out there. I love the whole family platonic like bond like thing...so for the life of me don’t go turning this in to LINKCEST or anything NSFW.  The Creator Jojo has requested so and I am with them on that. thank you. Now enjoy. 

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

Wind: dang we missed the before the story stuff.

Hyrule: well someone had to take their time.

War: excuse me?! I can’t just go walking out in plublic in nothing but lounge wear.

Legend: SHHHHH shut up you three. the story is about the begin.

-silence-

loud popcorn crunching comes in the direction of Wild. Everyone angrily looks at him. Twilight take the bowl away.

story begins- loud sounds of Hyrule entertainment played by kudzus, by fairies. Time having to swat them away. “Enough!”

 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  "It's raining sideways!" grumbled the Veteran. The rain blasting at them all as they trudged through a storm. The hair dripping and sticking to their faces. "Surprised its you who is complaining and not our Captain." The smith stated, his hood over his head. The heroes all had experienced unwelcoming weather. However it never makes for an easy journey. The leader of the group was equally not in a pleasant mood with such weather. The cold temperature and soaked clothing seeped into his sore joints from old injuries. He kept his mood to himself, however I knew they best find some sort of shelter. Cloaks did nothing to protect them with the wind blowing harshly, and Rain blinding them with every step they took. Their boots muddy and soggy. If they didn't find shelter soon, they were bound to catch a cold from it.

 They all halted under some Trees for some cover after some time. The rancher blew into his hands attempting warm part of himself up. The wind picked up again, the Trees creaked and moaned. The rain pounding ever hard. This was some storm that had happened. It being winter, that'd be expected. The leader of their group rubbed his sore joints. "So do any of you know which Hyrule we are in?" asked the captain, attempting to ring out his royal blue scarf. Pointless really. They all looked at each other. None of them knew. The young sailor seem to cling to Sky, as he shivered. "only if we had a map or something to show us a place for shelter." The smith stated shaking out his boot. Wild has been quiet, he had done on his warm doublet and his hood, however now even those were failing him.  The rancher shook out, rain water getting ever, a useless thing to do. however it helped him at least be able to see things better. The water droplets had started to form on his eye lashes. "I am sure if we keep moving we will find something." He then suggested. Standing around getting more soaked wasn't going to fix their situation. They all nodded. "so would you like to take the lead then?" suggest the Leader. Rancher looked over at them and then over the rest. "I can take over." He replies, adjusting his sword and pelt. The leader came over and placed his hand on his shoulder. The rancher could tell the Old man was hurting bad. The rain was starting to slow down enough. "Okay, let's get going then." he states as he turned to lead them down the path more. He wasn't very comfortable taking lead. The captain stuck closer to the old leader then, while the wild one and traveler joined the rancher in the front. ********  They had wonder for hours it seemed, as the rancher lead them through the dense woods. It only provide them with some protection from the raging storm going on. The mood in the group had started to get very unpleasant. Some grumbled under their breaths, some whined, and some just stayed quiet. Their mind filled with images how much a warm bath would be nice or a warm fire, with a warm drink. A bed for comfort. It's amazing how weather can make one romanticize little things other's take for granted. Even Wild, who enjoyed the outdoors was thinking about the comfort of a good shelter. His Hyrule always being unpredictable with the weather. The rancher even was thinking how much he would give anything to have a bowl of warm soup. That also reminded him of the time he visited the yetis. Dunking warm baked bread in to a bowl of soup. All their minds were swimming with wishes and images of comforts. So much so that they were all so lost in thought. As the rain once more came down hard. Big, hard, Fat rain drops. "Okay, Could Hylia please let up on us for once." Grumbled the Veteran and in a what would of been comical moment, they all seem to slip and fall like dominoes in the mud. The young sailor sat up and slammed his fists into the puddle he fell in and sob, "I can't do this. This is fucking miserable. I would take being flung out of a canon then this." Sky came over and helped the young sailor up and held him. The captain helped the Older leader up. "probably best we find a cave or something." he tried gently suggesting. "too bad the wild child's stupid slate cant bother work or we wouldn't be this stuck." the veteran angrily says trying to get some of the mud off his tunic.  

 Wild looked down, his wet hair covering his face. Rancher turned and snapped, "Hey, that aint his fault. We're all in this. Sorry we don't have some 'magical' tool that will just go 'hey, there's a good shelter over there!' " his finger pointing out in some random spot. He bore a face which the veteran has never seen. the rancher rarely snaps and is often more comforting or stern. However never snippy or angry. If he was, he never let it on or turn on other. The veteran now felt guilty for lashing out. The rancher was often protective for sure. he knew he picked the wrong person to go after. "Okay let all take it easy." said the Older leader, rubbing his side he fell on. "Getting snappy won't get us anywhere. we got to just got to keep a look out."  They all stood quiet for a bit, the young sailor was still buried into sky, softly sobbing and shivering.

 The rancher turned and closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh. His breath could be seen in the cold that was creeping in more. He placed his hand on the back of wild and rubbed it gently before moving forward. The other's then followed in step. It was only when they walked a few more miles, they all saw in the distance, illuminated by light among the dark woods. "A CABIN!"  Squealed the Traveler. "wonder if anyone live there?" questioned sky as they all made their way towards it. "who'd want to live way out in the middle of nowhere in thick forest?" stated the Captain. The older leader stayed quiet. "some just do." replied the rancher. The veteran snored, "right." As they approached there was a sign that sated, "Traveling camp cabin."

 "oh! it like the cabin's I came across in my hyrule. It's a place for travelers of all sorts to take shelter in." wild explain. "Is that so?" said the smith. "Yeah. see- they have a place where you can even house your horses." they all looked. "well that mighty nice." the rancher said with a smile. They opened the cabin door. The room was semi large. a single bed, a old wooden table where a leather book laid open. A fire place with cooking pot and kettle hung. Wood off to the side of it. It looked unvisited for some time. the room floors creaked and the building smelt of smoke from previous visitors. A few spiders had made their home there in the odd corner of the building. Rancher tended to making sure Epona was set up in the side horse stall with fresh water and food. Dry bedding and a warm blanket over her back. After he dried her off. He then brought in everyone's packs. Wild had gotten a fire started.

 The group respectfully left their muddy boots by the door. Then they each shed their soaked clothing and put on dry ones. Placing the soaked ones to hang on a well placed wire. One of them brought in some water from the nearby stream, placing some off for cooking and the rest was to wash the mud and grime. it wasn't a warm bath, but it would do in the mean time. They had all agreed the Older leader could take the bed. The rest placed their bedding off to the side for when they would go to sleep. Wild made work on making some hearty soup and Traveler went about making tea. They stayed quiet for some time. some took to doing a bit of work on their items. Such as patching up hole in their clothing, placing new chainmail links and removing damaged ones. Traveler came around handing them a nice herbal tea. To sip on while food was still being work on. The Moment the warm liquid touched their lips, there a unison sigh from everyone. The tea hit the spot in helping in warming their cold bodies up and the warm fire heating up the space.

 The smell of the food wild was preparing was also welcomed. Just a simple soup of creamy meat soup. which consisted of whatever meat wild had on hand, milk, herbs and vegetables. There was a little rack above it for warming bread, which he did. The Rancher had his blanket over his head as he stared down at his chainmail and made work with getting all the broken rings off and putting in new one. The young sailor looked over his shoulder and watched in awe. The Veteran also doing so. The Captain, Old leader and Smith worked on their weapons. Sky stuck with Traveler and Wild, helping where he could. When the rancher spotted the little Sailor watching him, he motioned them to sit beside him. He asked if they wanted to learn how to work on chainmail. The sailor nodded. There was a soft chuckle that came from the Veteran. Rancher paid no attention be then gently started teaching the young one the trick. then hand his chainmail over to them. The nervously looked up at the rancher, who placed a hand on their shoulder. The sailor then fidgeted be felt unsuccessful, so the rancher shifted his sitting spot and placed his hand over the sailors and helped them till they finally were able to do it on their own. in which the rancher praised them. The room filled with warm laughter when the sailor enthusiastically whooped that he did it. The fact they were out of the rain, warm shelter, and food on the way improved everyone's moral.

  Once food was ready, they each got a bowl with some honey wheat bread. "MMM. I am so going to food coma after this." Moaned the Veteran. "Oh please do. Think we had enough salt for the day." the Captain joked, with a mouth semi full of soup and bread. "Zing. One point for Captain. what you going to do about it Vet?" laughed Rancher. with a dead pan look at Captain and replied. "Throw salt at them."

"Oi, no thro-" The Old leader was about to say.

 The Veteran placed his bowl of food down and leaped across to tackle the Captain, who had to quickly put his own food down before he was toppled over. "OOF." Everyone in the room chuckled. "Ah now I get it." said Sky, softly chuckling. "wait- were you like the old man and thought he was going to literally toss salt?" questioned Traveler. "well you never know in this group. Sometimes it takes a bit to realize things- like the Old man's horrible dad joke." chuckled the Smith. The room erupted in laughter. "I think my jokes are rather dadtastic." the old leader said with a gently laugh. "okay, say that when you're around your wife next time." The Vet teases as he was getting off the caption and returning to his own food. There was another roar of laughter from the group. Once after several helpings of soup and all of them had finished their food, a few helped with clean up.

 Bed rolls were laid out ready for sleep. The old leader took to reading a few letter his wife sent. The more younger members took to watch as Captain was once again losing to Rancher in a game of poker. "I for the life of me have no idea how you do it." captain said smiling back at the Rancher. There was a smirk on the rancher's face as he shuffled the deck. "He just that good. You maybe a strategist in this group, but he is the one to read through you bullshit talk and look." Sky chuckled. "Oh is that so, country? predicting my moves are you?" the Captain smirked with a flashy smile. The Rancher didn't reply but handed out the cards again. Then he just smirked once more up at the Captain. The played at least one last round. Which resulted in the Captain fling his cards at Rancher and everyone chuckling.

 Wild made some warm honey and cinnamon milk to help the younger ones to fall asleep easily. Which they drank and fell in to warm milk drunk sleep stage. Everyone else crawled into their bed roll and laid down to sleep. a few snuggled up with certain members. The rancher was last one up. He tossed in two more logs to keep the fire going a bit more before heading to his bed roll. He then caught the eye of the Older leader, who quietly motioned him over. He quietly made his way over. The old leader shifted and motioned for him to sleep beside him. Rancher joined him and curled up in their arms. Soon falling asleep in their arms. "I am so proud of you." whispered the old leader as looked over his blood. Then softly fell asleep himself. The only sound left, was the sound of the heavy rain falling, soft breathing of nine sleeping heroes and the crackling of the fire. Safe and Sound, snug and warm, and forgotten memory how the day first was. *****  When they woke, the warm sun streamed through the window. The fire was out, but the ambers still smoldering, and could be seen dancing in the light. The resident birds chirped. Only a few still not woke. Not shockingly sky being one, but the Old leader and Rancher. Who were known to be early birds in the group. by habit. The Captain suggested to let them sleep in a little more, while getting sky to wake, but grudgingly not ready to get up. Wild set to work making some breakfast. Veteran and Wind went about feeding Epona and giving her some attention. The Traveler Stretched and lout a yawn. "A Dawn of a new day. New adventure awaits us." -Fin.

#linked universe #linked universe au #Lu everyone #Legend of zelda #linked universe fanfic #Creator Content #fan content #loz #linked universe fandom

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Could you do 5: “ Why do you hate me? ” with Arthur and his crush because I live to suffer

Oh my God, how many weeks ago were these requests sent in? Well, here it is! For once, it turned out shorter than I imagined! 

Request sheet here

Read all my works here on AO3

You finish cleaning the last of the laundry for the day. It’s nearly sunset and the tips of your fingers have been rubbed raw from the washboard, but you ignore the slight burn. Your hands have been getting tougher the last few weeks, calluses developing on your once soft skin. Your entire body is growing firmer living here with this wild bunch. 

You’ve been with the gang just a little over a month now and your life couldn’t be more different. You spent most of your life with your parents until they both died years ago in a drowning accident near the banks of Blackwater. Since you weren’t quite an adult yet, you were sent to live with your uncle. He was a pastor for the local church, but he was as far from Godly as he could be. 

For the next few years, your life with your uncle was horrible. Your uncle, despite his preaching to be good, clean people, he constantly got drunk and beat you. There were a few times he even touched you inappropriately, and when you tried fighting back he’d beat you even harder. He dragged you to church every Sunday and you’d have to sit through his sermons and hear the hypocrisy spill from his mouth. How you hated hearing him tell everyone else to be kind and patient, to give charitably, to avoid excessive drinking and to be as much like Christ as they could be. How dare he say those things when he was doing such terrible things to you behind closed doors? 

When you got to be older, you tried many times to leave, to run away, but he seemed to have a sense of when you’d try and break out. It got to the point he started chaining you to your bed at night, and sometimes left you there for days, bringing you just enough food to stay alive. When people mentioned your absence, he’d wave them off by saying you were visiting a cousin and would return shortly. He also brushed away any visible marks he left on you by stating you were a wild child, falling from horses and running through the brush, but that he wouldn’t try to curb your active nature. 

Finally it all got to be too much, the beatings, the rape, the lies. The hungry nights chained to a bed. One night at the table, he started getting drunk and you could see the telling signs he was preparing to attack you. You armed yourself with a large knife and when he rushed you, you shoved it into his throat and killed him. It was only a day or two before people discovered him, but you’d already fled town. Everyone knew it was you and you heard rumors they wanted to hang you for killing the preacher. 

A week after killing your uncle, you were in desperate need of help as you knew nothing of living outdoors and on your own. You had no food or any kind of shelter. All you had was your horse and a few sparse supplies. You didn’t even have a gun. 

You went to Blackwater, where no one was looking for you. You became a street beggar, but with little success, so you started pick-pocketing people when you could risk it. One day, you picked the pocket of a tall man with black hair and a thick mustache. He caught on quick and dragged you down an alleyway where he was met by another man, thin and grey-haired. 

You thought these two men would shoot you, and for a moment they seemed to think they might. Then they surprised you by suggesting you come with them, join their gang of outlaws. You took their offering. 

Not long after you joined, the Blackwater heist fell apart, forcing you and everyone else to flee and leaving a couple of the others scattered or dead. A young girl close to your age named Jenny was killed and another man named Mac was shot. He died on the way to a frozen town named Colter. 

Now, here in Horseshoe Overlook, you and the others are settling in. You’ve become quite close with most of the others. You work with the other three girls, Karen, Mary-Beth and Tilly. They welcomed you with curiosity and friendship. They helped teach you how to survive in this gang, how to pull your weight to keep an old crone named Grimshaw from getting after you. 

When you first arrived, you were horribly afraid of a man named Swanson as he was a drunken reverend. It didn’t take long though to realize that he was completely harmless and he never showed interest in attacking anyone. In fact, he was more prone to hurt himself instead of any of the others. He was a man of God who’d just fallen on hard times. 

You get along with pretty much everyone, and most of them seem to like you. Or at least they’ve accepted you. There is one exception though: a man named Arthur Morgan doesn’t seem to like you at all. He’s pretty much ignored you this whole time and he only spoke with you once when you first arrived. He did nothing but ask your name and your story and when you finished telling him, he wandered off and said nothing more. 

A few times, Dutch and Hosea, the patriarchs of the gang, have suggested to the other girls that you go with them and learn how to do some proper robbing. Whenever Arthur heard though, he’d come over and tell them you were the worst choice to go out and do any work like that, you simply couldn’t handle it. 

There’s been other instances where Arthur seemed to think you were too weak to handle yourself. Sure, you grew up in a luxurious life, but you were willing to learn. Arthur just didn’t want to let you for some reason. In fact, he seemed to think you didn’t belong here. You wondered many times why he disliked you so much. It unsettled you a bit how you often found him staring at you, and when you looked at him, he’d look away. The other girls said that Arthur had an extremely tough exterior but he possessed a good, soft heart. They could always depend on him to protect them when they needed it. You just couldn’t see how that could be. 

Grimshaw comes over and tells you to stop working, that the day’s chores are done and to get yourself some dinner. You go over to Pearson’s wagon and scoop yourself some of his stew onto a plate. Most days, this is what Pearson makes, but on occasion, he’ll mix it up with some cornbread or fresh vegetables. Of course, he always has cans of food and other provisions available at his wagon. You take a can of peaches before heading to the round table to eat. 

Just as you’ve sat down and begun eating, Arthur walks over and sits down across from you. You don’t know why he does since he clearly doesn’t like you. He’s done this a number of times, sitting near you at the fire or coming to listen when you’re chatting with the others. He never says anything and you can’t read what he’s thinking from his face. You swallow heavily and debate on whether or not to leave. After all, he’s a high-ranking member of the gang, directly underneath Dutch and Hosea. You’re just some dumb newbie compared to him. But you decide to stay, not wanting to seem rude and give him a reason to like you even less. 

The two of you sit at the table and eat, not speaking. He glances up at you every so often, making you feel incredibly small and pathetic. As you finish your meal, Pearson walks over. 

“Arthur, can you go to Valentine tomorrow? I need some supplies picked up from the store.” 

“Sure,” Arthur says and Pearson hands him a list. 

“Oh, and can you stop at the post office too?” 

Arthur nods and looks at the list. “Guess I’ll need to take someone along. Quite a list, Mr. Pearson.” 

Pearson looks at you and points in your direction. “Take Y/N here. Sure she can handle it just fine.” 

“No,” Arthur says, returning to his plate of stew. “No, she needs to stay here. Stay where the others can keep an eye on her.” 

Your heart sinks. You’d been hoping you could go to town, you’ve been cooped up here for weeks. You’re tired of seeing the same trees, the same people. Pearson sighs. “Just take her, Mr. Morgan. What’s the worst that can happen on a shopping trip?” 

Arthur throws him a look as if to say Pearson didn’t know how dangerous a shopping trip could be, but then he shrugs his shoulders. “Fine. Y/N, I’ll be leaving early. Be ready.” 

“Yes sir,” you say quietly. 

He throws you a curious glance but then he gets up and takes his empty plate over to the wash barrel. He doesn’t say anything or even look at you the rest of the night. You know he’s only taking you because Pearson twisted his arm. 

In the morning, you get ready as soon as the sun is up, but Arthur doesn’t even stir from his cot until the sun’s well up. Even then, he doesn’t leave immediately. He gets himself some coffee, chops some wood and then has a quick discussion with Dutch. You stay ready to go at any moment though, not wanting to give him a reason to get angry with you. 

Finally, Arthur calls you. “Let’s go,” he says. You rush over and climb into the wagon. He sits down next to you and you stiffen up. He lights a cigarette and then grabs the reins. 

“Know anythin’ ‘bout drivin’ wagons?” he asks. 

“A little,” you say. “My dad taught me the basics when I was young.” 

He hands you the reins and you drive the wagon to Valentine. Nothing happens on the way there, but you’re happy to see the little, muddy town. Other people mill about, most looking like ranchers and farmers. You drive the wagon down the main street and stop near the stables, not too far from the store. 

Arthur hops down without a word and throws the butt of his cigarette into the mud. He hands you Pearson’s list. “I’m gonna go check the post office,” he says and walks off. 

You go into the store and hand the clerk the list. He snaps at a shopboy who begins piling items into a box. You help him carry the boxes out to the wagon and start sliding them into the back. Arthur comes back after a short period, his hands empty. Post office must not have had anything. 

When the shopboy’s done loading up the wagon, you both climb up into it. You’re about to grab the reins but Arthur takes them and whips the horses into a steady trot. You wait for him to say something during the trip, but he doesn’t. He seems tense, anxious. You are, too. Why does he dislike you so much? Sure, you’re extremely inexperienced, but he won’t give you the chance to go out and learn. It’s not that you’re unwilling, you’ve even begged Dutch and Hosea a few times, but Arthur wins them out, pointing out that something is surely to go wrong. 

When you get back to camp, you start unloading the wagon when Bill and Lenny come up to you. 

“Y/N, you ever rob a stage before?” Bill says. 

“I’ve barely robbed anything before,” you say. 

“She’s perfect for the job!” Lenny says with a smile. He explains that the stage he and Bill want to rob will have drivers that are heavily suspicious of being robbed. They want you to go and stop the stage and pretend to be lost. Since you have no experience robbing, you’re the most innocent person in camp. 

“It’ll be easy,” Lenny finishes. 

“Just make sure you get into cover as quick as you can if they start shootin’,” Bill adds. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Arthur says, attracted by Lenny’s excitement. Lenny tells him the plan and Arthur lowers his brow. “Absolutely not. You ain’t takin’ her nowhere. She’s gonna stay in camp, work with the girls.” 

“But she’s perfect, Arthur!” Lenny pleads. “You’ve robbed this company before, you know how quick they are to draw fire.” 

“Exactly my point! She don’t know nothin’ about robbin’, ya ain’t takin’ her!” Arthur says. 

“Mr. Morgan!” you say sharply. “I want to help! People keep asking me to help with jobs and you won’t let me! Dutch and Grimshaw are always saying that everyone needs to earn my keep, now let me do my part!” 

“You ain’t goin’ and that’s final!” he snarls. You hold your ground. Arthur turns to Bill and Lenny and orders them to get someone else. When they turn away, muttering, you glare at Arthur. 

“Can I talk to you? Alone?” you ask. 

He sighs. “Fine.” 

You lead him into the trees and then round on him as soon as you’re out of shot from camp. 

“What is your problem with me?” you demand. 

“I ain’t got a problem-” 

“Yes you do, Mr. Morgan! Ever since I showed up, you haven’t liked me for even a second. The others want to teach me how to do work and I want to learn, but you always get in my way! I can learn, I’m a fast learner. I know I don’t know much now but that’ll change.” 

“You ain’t goin’ robbin’, Y/N. You ain’t right for the job!” he says. 

You stand there for a second, your anger rising. This man has done nothing except make your life even more difficult than it is, given the situation. You can see now he’s arrogant and prideful, and he doesn’t want you taking a share of the profits. 

“Why do you hate me?” you demand of him. 

“What?” he says, clearly taken off guard. 

“I said why do you hate me?” 

“I don’t hate-”

“Bullshit, don’t lie to me, Mr. Morgan! You haven’t liked me from the start. I don’t know what I said or did to piss you off, but you’re being an ass! All the other girls keep telling me I’ll see that you’re a nice guy, but you’ve done nothing to prove them right!” 

He sighs, his mouth in a tight frown. He looks down, his eyes hidden beneath the brim of his hat. “I don’t hate ya, Y/N. Farthest thing from it, actually.” His voice is soft and rough. 

“Then why are you doing this?” You put your hands on your hips. 

“Because I… I’m afraid for ya. You’ve been hurt a lot by that awful uncle, I just want ya safe.” 

This is the last thing you expected. Safe? Why would he care for your safety? Then you begin recalling all the arguments you’ve heard him have with the others when it came to you going out and working. He’s always mentioned that something could go wrong and you might get hurt, but not that you’d be the one causing it to go wrong. 

“I’m sorry if I’ve come off coarse,” he continues. “It’s just I… when I first met ya I…. I just wanted to… just wanted to protect ya.” 

He rubs the back of his neck. You take a step back from him, confused still. 

“Protect me? But you seem to be unhappy that I’m here.” 

“I’m not. Y/N, I don’t dislike ya. Maybe that’s the problem. I…. I really like ya. Been wantin’ to talk to ya for weeks, just didn’t know what to say.” 

“You say hello. You ask me my favorite color, for God’s sake, Arthur!” you say a little more harshly than you meant to. Is he being serious? Has he been so stern about you doing work because he wants you safe because he has a crush on you? That can’t be right. You’re a nobody and he’s, well, he’s Arthur Morgan! When you first saw him, you noted how tall and broad he was, and how lovely his eyes were. 

“I know. I been doin’ this all wrong,” Arthur says. “I just didn’t think you’d want to talk to me, big ugly bastard that I am.” 

You frown at him a bit. Those are the last words you’d use to describe him. “You always assume things when you meet someone new?” you ask quietly. “Don’t you?” he says. “I’m real sorry I came off that way, Y/N. Do you mind if maybe we start over? Try to get off on the right foot?” 

You sigh. “Sure, Arthur.” 

He smiles and it brightens up his face. “Thank ya. By the way, what is your favorite color?”

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #writing prompts #awkward asks

[toomanysurveys9]

How many times have you ever ridden an elephant? once. we went to a circus once when i was younger and we rode one. Do you like cobblers? eh. they’re not my favorite, but i like pies. i’m weird i guess. What do you think about lord of the Rings? i love it. i have all of the hobbit and lord of the ring movies. What kind of cup did you last drink out of? it was a glass borderlands cup. Do you currently have any cuts or scrapes? not that i can think of. i have a bruise on my thigh though.

Did you like Barney as a child? i was obsessed with him once upon a time. lol. What color vacuum do you use? it’s white and blue. Do you have a lot of clothes hangers in your house? yeah. there’s a lot of people in this house. Have you ever been in a Latin class? nope. Have you ever had bubble gum stuck in your hair? i’m pretty sure it happened at least once as a kid. Is there any pet hair stuck to your clothing? alll the time. What do you smell? nothing right now.. Have you ever watched The Gremlins? i have not. i kind of want to though. What is your favorite type of seashell? conch shells. Do you love 3-D movies? eh. i prefer 2-d i think. Have you ever used Proactiv? i have not. Is your cell on charge? it is not. i haven’t really used it much today. Do you like dirt or sand better? sand. When’s the last time you had a hamburger? last night. Do you own an iHome? i do not. Do you own a BEST FRIEND charm or figurine? i do not. What do you think about rainbows? they’re pretty of course! Are you wearing anything on your head right now? i have a hair tie in my hair. that’s the closest thing. Are you watching cartoons? nope. i have the training going in the background. Do you own a pet spider? i would never have a pet spider. Do you like mouthwash? no. not even a little. Have you ever used a Ped-Egg? no. Do you like Olay products? i don’t use their products. Have you ever gone on a cruise? nope. Do you use green pens? they’re not my favorite, so not usually. Do you own anything that has a striped pattern on it? well, yeah. Do you watch Wheel of Fortune? not usually. i have though. Are there any fake tattoos on you? nope. just real ones. Can you roll your belly? no. When’s the last time you saw your grandpa? i saw one like an hour or two ago. i saw my other grandpa a week ago or so. Is there a rocking chair in your house? nope. Do you call your animals “baby names”? kind of i guess. Why does George Lopez say “I GOT THIS!!” in that voice? i don’t know. Do you have homework? i have coursework to do. but it isn’t really homework exactly. Have you ever gone to a Monster Truck show? i have not. might go next year with wyatt though. Well, have you ever seen the Nutcracker? on tv. Where did you get your bed sheets? my mom bought it. probably from walmart. Do you always use manners? for the most part. Have you ever been stood up? i guess so. yeah. Are your lips chapped? not right now. Have you ever been kicked in the throat? yeah. accidentally by my kids. lol. Do you own a fishtank? not anymore. When is the last time you were sick? last week i had a headache and felt just blah for a couple days. Do you like the song “Barbie Girl”? i guess so. more the memories of growing up though. What do you usually order from Taco Bell? cheesy gordita crunch. If you have a cell, is it touch screen? it is. i think most are these days. Do you own a feather boa? not since i was a kid. lol. Are you allergic to peanuts? nope. Do you wear ribbons in your hair? i do not. Did you get into the Livestrong bracelet kick? kind of, i guess. How many pictures are on the wall of the room you are in? none. Do you use cheat codes on video games? i did if my brother put them in for me. lol. Have you ever gone mudding on a fourwheeler? nope. Is there a rolly chair in your bed room? nope. What is your favorite flavor Jolly Rancher? probably watermelon or green apple. Who is your favorite super hero? star lord and deadpool. && who is your favorite Villan? the joker. and probably loki. Have you ever been to a church camp? yeah. we used to go almost every year. Is there a trampoline in your back yard? nope. erin wants one but i’m too worried about the kids getting hurt at this point. Have you ever played Dance Dance Revolution? yeah. i used to love it. Have you ever swam in a creek? i have not. Do you enjoy running? it’s not my favorite. lol. i need to do it more. How long has it been since you last slept? i might have dozed off on the third to last coursework videos. it was repetitive and boring. i still passed the quiz. What are your thoughts on Myspace? i used to be obsessed with everything about it. finding the perfect background, and the perfect sound, and top 8 friends. and if i was anyone’s top friends. i’m kind of glad it’s dead. lol. What is the last thing you dropped? i don’t remember. How many nickels are in your possession? probably a few. Is the sound on your laptop or computer turned off? it’s turned up. i have a coursework video going. How many items do you have in your “favorites”? i don’t know. nothing that i know of. Would you ever slide down a razor blade slide into a pool full of alcohol? probably not. the only way that would happen would be to save my loved ones. but i can’t imagine that ever being necessary. lol. What is the last infomercial you saw? i don’t remember. How many magnets are on your refrigerator? quite a few. How many keychains do you own? a couple. Do you own anything with a peace sign on it? not anymore. Have you ever been to Johnny Rocket’s? i have not. How many stuffed animals are in your room? quite a few. they belong to the kids. Look up, then to the right. What do you see? the curtains. Have you ever done the “Cupid Shuffle”. i have. we did it way too many times at our wedding because the little kids kept requesting the same songs over and over. lol. Do you know how to do the Solja Boy dance? i do not. When is the last time you wore shorts? this past summer. Do you like elevators or escalators? escalators. if they break, you just walk up or down it. Have you ever layed on a tampur pedic? i have not. i bet it’s lovely though. i can’t even tell you the last time we had an actual new bed. Have you ever been in Karate? i got to take one lesson. but we couldn’t afford it so we didn’t get to keep it up. What color is the nearest lampshade? i don’t even know. Is there anyone in the room with you? not right now. because i’m supposed to be doing coursework. i keep going back and forth. this one doesn’t have a test about it. How long has it been since you’ve eaten a Reese’s? it’s been a few weeks. When is the last time you went to Walmart? the beginning of the week. Do you own any body glitter? i do not. i used to love that shit . What brand of hair straightner do you own, if you own one? i don’t own one. erin does if i wanted to use one. What is your favorite brand of chips? i don’t know. i really like the honey wheat pretzels. What time was it 20 minutes ago? 3:07. When is the last time you pet an animal? today. Do you own anything from Aeropostale? nope.

#survey #surveys #personal #question #questions #random

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

47 and 57 with slime rancher au? Like, the first time reader find Anti or Shawn or any of the other boys?

Ooooo yes! I’ve been wanting to write something for Tarr!Shawn so hope you enjoy this!

47. “I know you’re scared.”57. “I’m only here to help.”…….

At this point, you were surprised that nobody had given you the title of “[Y/n], the Tarr Exterminator” by now. 

Over the course of the many months you’ve lived on the Far, Far Range, you have gone out of your way to make sure Tarr outbreaks came to a stop before their infectious goop could reach your precious Slimes.

So far those dark, monstrous creatures have been nothing but nasty and cruel, sometimes laughing as they tried to pull innocent, panicking Slimes into their mouths.

Of course, that didn’t mean you didn’t feel bad for them sometimes. After all, Tarrs were once normal Largos who accidentally ate the wrong type of plort. It wasn’t entirely their fault, as they were only trying to find the closest sources of food.

That being said, you started wondering if all of them were just feral, mindless creatures like zombies…or if they could be so much more than that.……..

One night, you were just exploring, searching for Hens and Silver Parsnips. As expected all you found were simple carrots, but you figured any food was better than no food for your Slimes.

But when you approached a cave, you were surprised when, on the outside walls, there were black splatters that looked like….an arrow?

“Hmm..I’ve never seen this before.” You examined the drawing, recognizing it to be made of tar.

Surely, it had to be some kind of trap, although you remembered you had a full water tank so you were instead curious about the arrow. You followed it into the cave, discovering another drawing of what looked like a sad Tarr and some stacked Slimes fleeing from it.

Your heart sunk. It seems your previous suspicions about Tarrs were correct.

Maybe they still had feelings-

“Shaa…”

Startled by the noise, you turned and aimed your Vacpack nozzle, eyes narrowed when you saw an old, torn, and tar-covered Stego Buddy toy roll out in front of you.

“Who’s there?” You demanded. “Come out and show yourself.”

Soon enough, a Tarr did, indeed, come out and reveal itself to you. Much to your surprise, instead of having a rainbow coloring like other Tarrs you’ve been, this one had black, sepia-brown, and white markings. “Shhaa..AH!” It jumped back when it saw the nozzle pointed at itself, as well as the water tank on your back. Then it hopped into a corner, taking the toy with it as it whimpered.

You lowered your Vacpack, realizing that it wasn’t going to hurt you. “Hey..” You whispered softly, smiling as you cautiously approached it, before kneeling down. “I know you’re scared. But it’s okay. You..aren’t gonna hurt me, right?”

The Tarr shook its head, using one of its tentacle-like appendages to gesture to the wall. You gazed back at the drawing for a second or two, before glancing back at the creature. “You don’t wanna hurt other Slimes either? You just like drawing?”

It nodded. “Shhha..”

“..alright. If you don’t hurt me or Slimes, I won’t hurt you. I’m only here to help. Must be pretty lonely here, huh?”

Your question made it whimper again. And in that moment, you found yourself making a big, risky decision.

“Do you…wanna come home with me? I might be able to find you a little cave where you can make more art.”

The Tarr’s mouth opened in surprise as it stared up at you. But a few seconds later, tears bubbled in its eyes, before it hopped closer to you. With a smile, you nervously patted its head, realizing that the material he was made from was thicker than most Slimes, but it was cool and squishy at the touch.

“I’ll take that as a “yes”,” you chuckled. “But…I oughta give you a name.”

“Shhhaaa…?”

“Hmm..Sha…Shakira? No, no that’s terrible. Shade…Shadow…hmm…nah those are too basic. What about….Shawn?”

“Shh…Shhhaw!” The Tarr smiled, bobbing up and down in excitement. You laughed gently at how happy it–he seemed now.

“Alright. That’ll be your new name from now on.” Standing up, you grabbed the Stego Buddy and stowed it away into your Vacpack. “I’ll wash off your toy when we get to my ranch, okay?”

With that, you began the trek back home as the sun started to rise, with Shawn not too far behind you.

Never did you think you would encounter a lonely, docile Tarr, but as it turns out a lot of interesting things can happen on this planet.

#clanask #anonymous #slime rancher au #shawn flynn

[aschenink]

SUFFOCATE ||| 🎶 by COLD 

↳ Got a random flash of inspiration and came out with this, a post-Eosophobia Viktor/Jackal drabble… oneshot… thingy.  Hm.  It’s fairly long for a random piece, clocking in just over 4,100 words, so just a heads up ^^

Also, this is written in a non-linear fashion, as in there are flashback/memory scene thingies! They are italicized, for easier differentiation. 

Content Warnings: Lots of strong language and a tiny bit of incredibly vague sexual referencing.  Just two morons who can’t communicate and Nadege who communicates maybe a little too forcefully.

Suffocate: to smother, to asphyxiate, to stifle.  My hand on your throat.  I swallow metal: the taste of our kiss, the chain’s rattle when you shift your ankles.

“Oh, God,” you plead.  You’ve never prayed before.  You, and the blood smeared at the corner of your lips, the swollen mil-dots of bites on your shoulder.  Your oil-spill hair swimming atop the sheets, curled with sweat.  You don’t pray, but you do beg.  “God, p-please.”

“Yes, darlin’?”

“Please,” you sob.  Somewhere between laughter and cracking, equally desperate. Your fingers scratching up my back, carving angel’s wings.  Pulse trembling under my fingers. Your eyes open, spilling at the edges.

Your eyes don’t seem so broken.  Like rain falling in reverse, the morose clouds stitching themselves back together.  Were you sad, when I met your kisses with bites, your pleas with bruises?  Am I just callous, having worn out this memory, the emotional cogs grinding against each other in nightly repetition?

“Please.”  But you know I’m the kind of deity that listens to prayers only to shatter them.  ‘Sides, I’m torn between prayers of my own.  Between Don’t let this end, let me have this, let me suffocate in this memory, and begging you to Break, break, break.  I want to feel you crumble.  Just once, just this time–I want you to break, want to feel your shards slicing under my fingers as I piece you back together.

Your fingers curl into my hair.  Pulling me closer. “Viktor.”

Please, I pray.

God takes a page from my book–wraps his hand around my throat.  Plucks me right from the only memory I still have of you that doesn’t taste like the shrapnel of my heart.

Memories of Jackal spiral nonsensically from that first conscious ache when I wake up, spidering out along my body, coating me in the sticky webbing of cold sweat.

Remember that? the memories taunt.  Or the time in Pistol Beach, with the ocean salt still in his hair, the endless abyss in his eyes?

Funny thing, really. Pistol Beach wasn’t so far from Ashland, where the whole wreck started.  Like we hadn’t gotten anywhere at all.  Like we’d only been a dinky tornado spiraling towards the sink drain, a disaster that doesn’t spin far at all.

Pistol Beach, the memories coo, where I woke up with no blood circulation to my arm because of his damn heavy head, where his eyes were sticky and overcast, where I kissed him and kissed him and–memories spiraling nonsensically.  Where I said “I’ve wanted this since the moment I saw you,” where he laid on the sheets and traced the rose thorns printed on my throat, where everything was rushed and possessed and tasted like blood and morning rum and blurred together, still half-drunk and blinded by the dawn-light.

“Start as you mean to go on,” I chuckle.  I swallow ash in the silence that answers.

A shower, lukewarm and rattling the motel pipes, washes away the cobwebs. Brandy, a self-medicating dose, washes away the taste of ash.  Nadege stumbles out of the motel room next to mine, wrapped in a tattered pink hoodie.  The midmorning sun glares down while I smoke, daring us to speak.  Dege only hands me the carkeys and waits for me to unlock the truck so she can clamber into the passenger seat and ignore me for the next fourteen hours, arms crossing over her chest when I climb in, only breaking her silence to assure me that she’s still pissed as hell.

“You’re a dumb, selfish bastard,” she snaps.

Jackal’s ghost sits between us, unspoken.

There’s this thing about Jackal.  The rest of us, we’ve got our pride.  We clutch our masks to our faces until they meld with the flesh, half-phantoms roaming the opera house ashes, scavenging for the things that might makes us feel human again.

Jackal, though.  He wears his pride like he wears his clothes: tightly, but he isn’t afraid to peel ‘em off if he thinks it’ll benefit him enough.

Ever seen a crustacean without its shell?  The fleshy insides, the exposure–uncomfortable to look at, impossible to look away from.  That’s Jackal–shamefully shameless.  

That’s Jackal–mine, a voice whispers. Shame and all.

No.  That boy ain’t worth the trouble, I tell myself.  Everything he’s done to you, all the killing, all the misery.  What’ve I got to show for it? No coin–only scars, and memories of prayers to Gods that despise us.

The road thumps in agreement.  Nothingness stretches forward: abandoned fields overgrown and razed by fires, roads bursting with roots suffocated by the concrete.  All that civilization from the people before Dawn, and now they’re all dead and gone, and all that’s left to show for it is this nothingness.

See–that’s our problem.  All this hurt and nothing to show for it.  What is there to gain by being with him?  Coin, at first (a clever lie, the bait of his frightened eyes, luring me on by pressing cold quarters into my palm).  Then, just trying to survive (cell bars and conspiracies, brothers who prove relation through their bloodlust). You go through that, course you’re scared to leave each other, even if you aren’t happy, even if there aren’t promises keeping you locked down.

How do you love someone you can’t take from?  Me, I take and take and take.  And Jackal, for his all his broken edges, for all the undone zippers on his pride, is only a half-concept, still digging for the pieces he’s missing within himself. How do you love someone who isn’t someone?

Not like that was the only problem.  But the rest, they aren’t worth discussing, because I, I have all my pieces, and I like them how I have them arranged.  If Jackal doesn’t like my cards (even if my cards are a little bloody, and half the deck’s up my sleeves), we can’t play the game.

The truck bounces hard over the road.  Punishing my thoughts, my defiance.  Dege shifts in the passenger seat, cherry bomb screeching out of her earbuds.  Studies me for a moment, that gentle, pitying look she has, warm brown eyes and freckles bunched together curiously.  A different kind of silence than this morning, when she was punishing me for my insolence.  This time she reaches for me.  Puts her hand on mine, where it rests on the empty seat between us.

“I miss Smalls,” she sighs.

I snap my hand away.  Fire snaps and burns on my knuckles where she touched and spoke my thoughts for me.  “He’s fine where he is.”

“He’s hopeless.  Kal survives only cos that boy acts so strangely, no one can pin ‘em down enough to get a bullet in him.”

“Maybe.”  But you can’t love someone who calls you a monster and lies about love, and I, I want love. “But you and I, least we’ve got each other.”

“Sure,” she snorts, rattling off.  “That is, till you spot another wealthy rancher and leave to drain ‘er pockets, or till you get hired off to go shoot some important fuckface.  Ah! No,” she jerks a finger at me, shuts me up before I can form thoughts, “And I love ya, Giant, but I don’t touch anything below the belt. I can’t be that for you.  Even if I could, I wouldn’t.  You and I, we’re more family than friend, more blood than not.”  She sniffs, crosses her arms back over her chest. “Jackal was family too.”

“Family loves each other,” I snap.  “Jackal is fascinating because he’s heartless.  Apathy doesn’t make a family!  Apathy makes misery.  I–I’m better off without him. We are better off without him.”

She slams a fist into my arm, the force burning, stinging, spider-webbing up my shoulder.  “We were family, and then you left him behind. Now I’m stuck here, caught ‘tween losing Neda and Kal–I’m suffocating.  I love you, Vik, but right now I’m ‘bout as close to steering us into a ditch as I am to forgiving ya. You and I, we’ve got each other just as closely as we’ve got our miseries.”

She looks at me for a moment but seems to think better of the words stacking between her open lips.  She pushes the pink bud into her ear, right back to glaring out the window.  

I think about telling her the truth.  I try.  Try to form the words, try to form them into something that might make sense.  I try to tell her that I’m tired, tired, that I wanted to stay, that I would have if only Kal had asked me to.

But he didn’t ask.  Not because he has his pride, but because he didn’t see the benefit.

Kal’s probably made the right decision, not wanting me to stay.  If you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, then you probably can’t teach a swindler to put love before profit, either.  

And I was probably right to leave.  If you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, then you probably can’t make a man like Kal grow a heart, either.

The words crack on my lips, a higher pitch than I intended. “I miss him too.”

But Dege is lost in her own world, mourning her surrogate brother abandoned far behind us.  

Let the record show that I spoke the truth, even if silence and misery are my only witnesses.

“I’m leaving.”

He looks up at me, overcast eyes still holding themselves together.  My heart runs like a Harley, heavy thrumming, ready be chewed up and spat out, trying to wriggle out my throat so it doesn’t have to leave with me.  He’s watching me and I’m here praying to Gods that probably ain’t real, to Gods that I’ve never prayed to before, praying that Kal’ll say what he’ll never say, something like I want you to stay or Take me with you.  But he shrugs, indestructible, looks back down at the scraps on the table in front of him and says “Okay.”

“I mean I’m not coming back, Kal.  I’m leaving.”

“I know.” His fingers wrap tight around the red screwdriver I got for him a thousand lifetimes ago, back when debts and brothers seemed like the problem and not us.

My heart’s already pushing on my tongue, trying to leap off.  It finds its way out in my sobs, crying, “That’s all you’ve got to say?”

He doesn’t look at me.  His curls look like smoke clouds, smothering the space between us, dizzying the thoughts.  “Always knew you’d leave.”

“But I told you,” I plead, going about this all wrong, “I told you I’d stay.”

“Yeah.” He looks, looks, stares right over my shoulder, indifferent.  “But not forever.”

“Kal.”

“I won’t make you stay. If you wanna stay, stay.  If you don’t, go.” Gray eyes catch mine.  Less like rain, more like thunderstorms, heavy, suffocating.  “I won’t be your victim.”

“I’m not asking you to be!”

“You are.”

“No!  Dammit, Kal, I’m asking you to—” to say you want me to stay, that you need me, that I protect you—that I keep you warm, keep you loved, that I and I alone have delivered you through hell, that your life is as good as mine—I’m asking you to love me, to promise, to be a victim of your heart—not mine.

I can’t say it. The words crash against my teeth. Air struggles to finds its way around the traffic jam.  

“Asking me to hurt,” Kal answers.  “And I can do that for free.”

“We could go back,” Nadege pleads.  “We could go back and take him with us.”

“We’re too far.  We can’t have wasted all this gas money just to go back.”

Her eyes suggest violence, but her hands only tighten on the backpack in her lap.  “We’re stumbling aimlessly like a kicked dog–ya kicked yourself, Giant!  The hand that feeds you is back in Dakota.  We should go back.  We’re family, and family stays together, lives, thrives, dies together.  You can’t just—just feel hurt and leave.  So your past caught up with you.  That doesn’t mean it gets to swallow ya whole, to suffocate the future!”

I open myself.  Can’t say the words I should say.  I should tell her yes, but I’ve already imagined it–crawling back.  Imagined a future where he opens the door and I plead Let me stay, let me stay, it might not be forever but it can be more than now.  But Kal, the Kal in my head, the Kal in my heart, he has no sympathy. Nor should he. Like every abandoned lover before, there are no open arms to go back to.

“He wouldn’t want me,” I grind out.  “Why would he?  I left him.  Abandoned. You and I both know how that tastes.”

She slams a hand on the dashboard.  “Yes! But what about me, Viktor!  What about me!  I’m part of this too—he’s like my brother, and you, you ripped me apart from him!”

“You helped,” I say, and I taste hysteria rising on my tongue.  Saying things I don’t want to say.  Is this how Kal felt, when he spat that I was a monster, that love meant nothing? Hysteria in his eyes, in the way his hands trembled?  “You helped.  You told him he had every goddamn reason to want me gone—”

“I did, ay!  I told him, I told the boy, told ‘em straight to the face: Viktor’s a swindler, a murderer, a fool, a drunkard, a gambler, a whorish ass who cheats everything he loves, even himself.  I told him! I told him your flaws, I ripped you apart for that boy, because I love him and he deserved to know.  If you weren’t a fool with sins longer ‘an the sun’s rays I wouldn’t ‘ve said a peep.  But listen to me! I told him, told him all the things you could never say.  I told him you loved him, you’d die for him if he asked. Each day you were free was a day you chose to stay with him.”  Her nails dig into the dash, her eyes warm, warm, burning, like gunpowder’s swimming in her tears.  “I told him love is a misery shared ‘tween hearts, and misery was what he chose.”

“That wasn’t your place,” I whisper, the steering wheel veering, knuckles white on the black leather.  “Telling him my sins when I never intended to cheat him, not by then.  He said I was a monster because of what you went around telling him, Dege!  Told me each kiss tasted like a countdown!”

She slams her palm again, a noise scraping up against her throat, pulling itself out angrily.  “And he was right!  Because you, you went and left!  If you had a sense better than a fool’s I wouldn’t have said shit, now would I?  But I, I’m not you, I ain’t such a fool.  I know how you looked at that boy!  I know how you looked at him, Giant, and it’s been a damn long time since you’ve looked at anyone like that.  Looking at ‘im like he’s more than prey, something more fascinating than a man on the other side of a scope.  You looked at that boy like he was a bottle, like you’d be scared of your own thoughts if he weren’t there when you woke up. Like your whole damn reason for living was to press your lips against him.”

“Yeah,” I swallow. “And now look.  Waking up every morning with only the bottle.”

“He deserved the truth. And then you left, ran away–I let him get one step ahead of you and you cashed out!” She shakes her head. “I ain’t saying you’re good for each other, that you’ll be espousing vows or sharing tender looks or shit.  I’m just saying, as miserable as you were together—all your sins and fears combined—you’re even more of a miserable bastard without.”

“Yeah.  I’m a monster and a miserable bastard.” The truck feels small, curling in on me. “I haven’t forgotten.”

“You whimper and whine but it was your dipshit decision to leave, and your decision to ruin our family. You are a monster, Viktor.  Doesn’t mean yer beyond love, but damn if you don’t make it harder than it needs to be.”

Jackal—the Jackal I love, the Jackal I miss, the Jackal in my head greets my wandering thoughts of what if I went back? with a rusted screwdriver and simple indifference.  “Didn’t think you’d be back,” he says in my head, peeking from around a hotel door.  His voice, the odd formation of his words, choppy and small, like a replacement for the voice of my sanity.

“Neither did I,” I’d say.  With a smile, I offer, “Guess it’s a surprise party.”

He wouldn’t think that was funny.  His fingers would curl around the screwdriver, clinging to it for comfort, half-prepared to dig it in my chest.  “Why?”

“I missed you.”  No–too simple.  “Couldn’t get you out of my head.” Better.

The way his eyes would rake up me, curious, hands loosening. “You aren’t staying,” he accuses.

No.  I don’t want to stay, to be always haunted by his rain-eyes, to only kiss blood.  But then… Yes.  I want to stay, want to taste his kiss in the morning sun, want to hear him beg, want to unzip his pride-suit and poke at his shame until there is less shame and more me.

“Nothing’s changed,” he says, and it sounds like an invitation.  If I’m still leaving then I’m still me, and if I’m still me I can go back.  Does this make sense? He and I, we circle one another, vulture and prey.  Our endings are terrified of our beginnings.

“Well, can’t say nothing’s changed.  Dege is pretty pissed at me.  Staged a coup till I came to my senses.”

“Found them at the bottom of a bottle?” He sighs, voice melting, like mist when the rain won’t commit.  He steps back from the door–a real invitation.  Something about his face is off, like I’ve forgotten the flaws in his skin, or the sound of his laughter.  What… what did his laughter sound like?  I called it music, once, if the harsh, shocking cry of a rifle and the way it melts into silence can be music.  

“Why try?” he asks me, his fingers on my chest, my shoulders, crawling up my neck. “Why?”

“Tired of leaving my heart behind.  I was born a human, not a swindler.” My hands on his, inked hands on calloused ones.  “Guess it took missing you for me to remember.”

“Can monsters shed their fangs?”

“No.  You’ll have to train me, teach me to kiss you, rather than to gnaw on your bones.”

Hesitation.  You’re a swindler, his eyes would say.  I won’t offer you anything to make you stay. I know your tricks.  I won’t fall for them.  I won’t be your victim.  This affair is just an affair—not a promise.

“Okay,” he says.  His fingers curl around my throat.  Smother, asphyxiate, stifle. Suffocate.  “You asked for it.”

Somewhere in reality, Dege pokes me in the arm.  She shouts over the music, eyes tired.  “Pull the damn truck over.  You’re weaving so badly—are you sobering up or somethin’?”

Grunt, scraping against the back of my throat, where his fingers should be wrapped, wringing me of my independence. “Tired.”

“Let me drive.” Her voice, soothing, a maternal coo. “We ain’t going anywhere in particular anyway.  How lost can I get?”

She hops out of the truck and I shuffle into the passenger seat.  By the time she pulls onto the road and meets the next bend, the cold glass of the window has already lured me away from the truck, back to where my heart always wanders, right back to you.

“You want me to hurt,” Jackal accuses.  The screwdriver in his hand trembling.  “To beg. I won’t.  Not for this.  I don’t waste breath on prayers—I won’t waste it on you.”

I don’t need you to beg mixes with Break, break, break.  Prayers and words all crashing against my mouth, riding on red waves.  Nothing comes out but pain. A gasp.  “After everything I’ve done for you.”

“No.  After everything you did before me. You’re more monster than man.  You take what you can take. Swindling and baiting. Feasting on flesh: cattle and kin alike.”

And I am, I am, I am. What can I say?  That I need him, that he completes me, that his wounds and mine mirror each other? No.  What could I say that wouldn’t sound like lies?  I know all the lies, all the falsities.  They work because they sound just like the truth—they both bleed, indecipherable. 

“I love you,” I plea, and the words that have always meant too much suddenly not enough, “You swore you loved me too.”

His lips, blood and lies, purse. “Maybe I’m a monster too.”

My heart, leaping forward.  Then let us be monstrous together.  We’ve hunted together, you and I; we’ve bled together, survived together, my freedom and your heartbeat entwined.  

But he—he scoffs.  “How could I still love you?  We precedes end.”

And he’s right.  I know me. We precedes end. But, see, even when he’s long gone, abandoned one morning in a hotel in Dakota, I’ll always remember what his pulse tastes like on my lips, how it sings under my fingers. 

But, see, that–that’s love.  Wrapping your fingers around their throat, but never daring to take all you can take.

Rain pounds against the windshield, in harried tempo to match the memory of Jackal’s pulse.  The map spread on the seat between Dege and I is marked in pink highlighter, a path going north.

“Should’ve known you’d go back for him,” I groan, pushing up from where I’m slumped in the seat.

Dege gasps, playful, invigorated.  “Not fighting?  No threatening to oust me from the truck—my truck, by the way, friendly reminder—for my decision?  My, my, old man, yer losing your stubborn streak.”

“Not really,” I sigh. The window is cool against my fevered face.  “Just tired of leaving behind the things I want to take.”

She peeks over at me, shadows crawling on her face in the evening light.  Laughter and fright mirror in her eyes.  “What sorta dreams are you having that changed your mind?”

“None,” I whisper.  Tasting blood in my dry mouth.  “Only memories.”

“Like he’s your present,” she whispers, “Can’t imagine a future without him, so now you’re suffocating in the past?”

“When’d you get so wise, Dege?”

She smiles.  Gentle.  Reaches for my hand on the empty seat, patting it softly.  “You’re just a damn fool, Viktor. ‘s why you need me around, to keep your head on.”

I know.  I know.  “A monster, a miserable bastard, a fool.” 

“So greedy,” you whisper, long fingers roaming through my hair, legs shamelessly spread open without the cuffs on your ankles.  “I’m still here.”

“I know.” Bringing your hand to my lips, kissing the tips of your fingers. “I know.  Still–I want you to stay.”

“I will,” you say.  Your eyes have that sadness again, whispering instead, I’ll stay, but you won’t.

You’re right.  I won’t. I always leave, always pick up first, always trying to stay a step ahead.  But you, Kal, you’re pondering the wrong questions.  It’s not about if I’ll stay or if I’ll go.  The question to ask is if I’ll come back.

You let me kiss you. Blood. How do you do that?  So indifferent, completely apathetic to the taste of my heart on your mouth.  I trace bitemarks with my fingers, your tired pulse thrumming under my touch.

“I love you,” I admit, half experiment, half truth.

And you.  The look in your eyes, like you want so badly to taste the truth, too.  “I know.”

You close your eyes.  Are you thinking of praying?  Thinking of the Gods we never speak to, hoping one’ll take pity, that maybe I’ll stay? Because I, I am–I’m praying to every deity I’ve ever heard the name of and praying to some others, too, covering all my bases, praying that one day I’ll wake up and your soft voice will sound less like the wind and more like the truth.

You mumble something quiet, too low to catch.  It sounds a bit like I want you to stay.

And me. The words in my throat, trying so badly to swallow down the truth, too.  “I know.”

About EOSOPHOBIA  ||  Vikal Drabbles ||  All EOS Drabbles ||  My Ko-Fi

Tagging people who have either asked to be tagged or shown a lot of interest in EOS, please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the future or removed from the list! 

@lady-redshield-writes @relevy @cogwrites @beeofwriting  @fdicenzo @writerightmegpie @homesteadhorner @authorisada @eternalwritingstudent @annabetchases @theguildedtypewriter @possibledreamswriting @maxseidel

#i've literally never used my tag list before bahahaha #i havent updated it since.. march? so i tagged a few of you who arent on it #im super sorry if you dont want me to tag you please let me know #and if you want to be removed bc that was forever ago that's totally cool #im uh. bad. at producing shareable content #also i have no explanation for this clusterfuck of a post #¯\_(ツ)_/¯ #eosophobia #drabble #vikal drabble #viktor #jackal #nadege #famine fluther #post-eos #vikal #aschenink #amwriting #my writing #currently writing #writers on tumblr #tag list #writeblr #writerblr #what the fuck else do i tag this #suffocate #eos edit #vikal edit #...yeet

[darnedchild]

Molly Hooper - (Assistant) Reanimator : Part Four

Also on FFdotnet and Ao3

With apologies to H.P. Lovecraft - A modern retelling of Herbert West - Reanimator.  Written for the 2017 Sherlolly Halloween fest.

Part Four - Six Shots by Midnight

“Christ, Molly.  Why didn’t you tell me?”  He ran a hand through his hair, ruffling his curls into the sort of disarray she would have normally found adorable.

“What was I supposed to say?” she scoffed, followed by a quick inhale that was almost a sob.  “Oh, by the way, I had a friend in uni who discovered the secret to reanimating dead flesh. Unfortunately, the process had a rather inconvenient side effect of turning the test subjects into flesh-eating ghouls.  How, exactly, should I have tried to work that into a casual conversation, Sherlock?” Molly’s was voice growing shriller with each new word; which she seemed to realize because she clamped her lips together to hold in whatever nervous noise was trying to break free.

“I see your point.”  He slumped, his head coming to rest on the back of the chair so he could stare up at the tiled ceiling.  “That’s all of it, though.  Right?” Sherlock lifted his head at her silence. “Right, Molly?”

Her skin had, somehow, gone even paler than before.  He began to worry that she was going to be sick all over her desk.  

She winced.  “No.”

Acting purely on instinct, he slid from the chair and knelt at her feet.  He grabbed both of her hands, which were far too cold to the touch for his liking.  In his most calming voice he said, “Take a deep breath for me.  Now let it go. And another one.  In. And out.  There we go, that’s my girl.”

“Your what?”  Molly blinked, her fearful expression momentarily morphed into bewilderment.

“My . . . We’ll talk about that later.”  Now that she had regained some of her colour, Sherlock sat back on his heels.  “All right. Tell me the rest.”

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

The experiments stopped after the Halsey incident.  Or, more likely, Herbert had simply stopped asking for Molly’s assistance. Not that she would have given it.

Not then, at any rate.

Molly’s father’s condition continued to worsen.  Eventually the American doctor told them there was nothing more he could do.  Her father wanted to spend his last few months in his familiar family home, so the Hoopers returned to Lincolnshire.  Molly was relieved to leave Miskatonic University (and Herbert West) behind.  

After her father died, she redoubled her efforts to finish her schooling.  Her father had told her that his greatest wish had been for her to become Doctor Hooper, and while he wouldn’t be around to see it, she made sure his wish was fulfilled.  There were some who called her heartless and cold—her mother included—because she took no more than a week off when he died, just long enough to help make arrangements for and to attend his funeral, but she had a mission.  No one understood that this was her way to grieve. Her penance for not being able to save him.

Her first job after becoming a doctor was at a small medical practice in Louth.  It took months, but she eventually came out of her shell and her old personality broke free.  She made friends with the other clinic staff and Milly at the diner.

One dreary day the next spring, she pushed through the front door of the clinic, her usual friendly greeting for the young receptionist dying on her lips at the sight of Herbert West leaning against the counter.

“And there she is,” Herbert laughed.  “I was just about to leave a note for you.”

“How-how did you-Why?“ she stuttered.

He quickly interrupted her with a sharp glance at the receptionist who was watching them, obviously hoping for a juicy bit of gossip about the newest doctor.  “Surprise you?  I thought it would be more fun if I didn’t call ahead.”

Which would have been a nice trick, considering he shouldn’t have had her number. Or her address.  She’d cut off all ties to him and nearly everyone else from the States when she’d left.

“Well, I am definitely surprised.”  And it wasn’t particularly pleasant.

“I’ve a meeting this afternoon, but how about dinner tonight?  We’ve got a lot to catch up on.”  Herbert offered a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Over a too-large portion of Shephard’s Pie that evening, Herbert told her that he’d kept an eye on her academic progress since she’d left.  He’d even managed to read her thesis.  When he had heard that one of the partners in her practice was getting ready to retire just as he was looking to make a change and leave Arkham, Herbert decided it was clearly a matter of fate.

“I’m sorry? Are you saying you’re replacing Doctor Masters?”

“Not replacing, per se.”  He set aside his own plate of barely touched food.  “I’ll be taking over his caseload over the next month or two, on a probationary basis, to see if I’ll be a good fit in your quaint little community.”

She got the impression he was mocking either her village or her boss.  Or both.

“So, why did you leave Massachusetts?”  People didn’t just drop everything and move to Louth on a whim.

“I told you, Molly, I was ready for a change.”  

She had resolved to hop on-line as soon as she got back to her tiny cottage and look for any strange news out of Arkham over the last few months, and was relieved to see nothing of note had been reported.  

Months later, Herbert had settled into the practice with little trouble.  He was extremely competent as a doctor, but had little to no bedside manner.  There were the occasional mutterings about his abrasive nature over the reception desk.

He’d purchased a small house for a song, simply because it shared a fence with the cemetery and therefore was rumoured to be haunted.  He’d hired workmen to complete much needed repairs around the long empty home and to enlarge the small cellar into a workspace.

It took a while, but Molly eventually found herself warming toward her old friend once more, and falling into old habits.  At first it was just reminiscing about their former research (while carefully avoiding any mention of Doctor Halsey’s death and subsequent reawakening).  Then it became shared meals and looking over a few notes to try to figure out where they had gone wrong, purely a hypothetical exercise of course.  And then the odd evening down in the cellar, messing about with reagents and new formulas.

Before she knew it, Molly was pulled back in.  Rather than risk another Halsey incident, they concentrated their work on a much smaller scale, the overly abundant rat population.  Not even the entire rat.  Miraculously, Herbert’s latest serum was capable of reanimating dismembered limbs, organs, even the severed head of a particularly large rodent specimen.

“Think of it, Molly.  We could revolutionize transplant procedures.  No more wasting time waiting for a suitable organ donor to get caught in a traffic accident.  Part out a donor corpse, inject the serum, then put it all in cold storage until needed.”

His enthusiasm was infectious, but she couldn’t help but wince at his phrasing. “Part out?  You’ll need to work on your wording if you hope to ever convince the medical community to accept your work.”

Herbert rolled his eyes.  “On the whole, most of them are feeble minded sheep anyway.  Sticking to what they were taught without a thought toward innovation or advancements.”

“Be that as it may, you’ll need funding if you want to take this large scale.”  It would do him no good to alienate the people who cut the checks.

“Trust me, my dear, there will always be someone searching for the secret to immortality and willing to pay for it.”  He sighed as he stared at their latest experiment.  “There are so many variables that need to be calculated. Trials with rats won’t be enough for us to go public.  If only we had a human specimen to work with.”

Molly shook her head with a grimace.  “I am not going to help you dig up another body.  I know these people, Herbert.  I work with them, they wave to me when I walk down the main street, I talk to them at the diner.”

He sighed and agreed, a tad too quickly for her comfort.

Suddenly the doorbell echoed through the ground floor of the house and through the open door to the cellar.  They looked at each other, then up as if they thought they would be able to see through the floorboards.

“Who’s that?” Molly asked.

“Probably one of the yokels, asking if I could come ‘out to the farm and help Bessie birth a calf’, as if I were a common veterinarian.  You answer it, tell them I’m busy doing . . . anything.”  He waved her off.  Molly stuck her tongue out at his back, before trudging up the stairs.  

It wasn’t a rancher worried about his cattle.  It was one of the men who worked at city hall.  He looked nervous, and the stench of alcohol and cigarette smoke assaulted her nose as soon as she pushed the screen door open.

“Hey, Frank.”

He seemed surprised to see her.  “Uh, hello, Miss Molly.  Is, uh, Dr West here?”

Molly wondered yet again why everyone insisted on calling her by her first name when Herbert was still known as Dr West.  “He’s a bit busy at the moment.  Is there something I can help you with?”

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, then sharply nodded his head as if he’d come to a decision of some sort.  “You gotta come help, there’s been a-an accident.”

She immediately straightened from where she’d been leaning against the door frame.  “What happened?”

“At the pub, there was . . . He fell in the basement.  Banged his head up pretty bad.  There’s a lot of blood, ma’am.  I don’t know if he’ll make it.”

It was a widely known but unspoken secret that certain men from the village liked to gather in the basement of the pub and pummel themselves silly on a semi-regular basis.  She didn’t believe the injured man had fallen on his own, not for a minute.  

Molly hurried to the cellar door and called down to Herbert, “I need to head out, someone’s hurt.  I don’t have my bag with me, where’s yours?”

Herbert stomped up the stairs, visibly irritated at the interruption and the loss of his assistant.  “In the hall closet.  What do you mean, someone’s hurt?”

She quietly filled him in as she pulled Herbert’s medical bag from the shelf in the closet, including her suspicions that the injury was boxing related.  “Frank thinks he might not live.”

“Interesting. I suppose we’ll be the judge of that, won’t we?”  Herbert took the bag from Molly’s hands and gestured for her to precede him out the front door.  “Tell me, Frank.  Who is it who . . . fell?”

Frank led the way toward the cars parked in the short gravel drive.  “You wouldn’t know him, just a bloke who’s been hanging around the village, looking for work the last few weeks.  You’ve probably never even seen him.  Geoff bought him a few drinks, to be friendly.  You know.”

So drunk and clumsy was going to be the story the boys at the pub were going to tell, Molly thought as she settled into the front seat next to Herbert.  They followed Frank’s car into the village, although Herbert drove around to the alley behind the pub and parked there.

Frank had been right.  By the time they arrived, the drifter had stopped breathing; which was probably for the best as she could see brain matter through the fractured skull. “This wasn’t just a fall,” she whispered to Herbert as they examined the massive body of a man who was clearly used to hard manual labour.

He grunted in reply, then stood up and wiped his hands against his shirt, leaving a smear of blood against the white material.  “Frank, a word, if you please.”

She watched the two men move to a corner of the room.  The handful of other village men stood to the side, whispering to themselves.  Probably making sure they had their stories straight, she thought.

Minutes later, Herbert returned to her side and Frank crossed the room to speak with his friends.  Some of them gave her and Herbert a look, then the entire lot of them hurried up the stairs.

“What’s going on?”

“They’re going to their respective homes to pretend that none of this happened, and I have agreed that we will deal with our friend here out of the goodness of our hearts and to protect the reputations of several of those fine gentlemen.”  Herbert looked around and found a tarp, which he quickly laid down next to the body. “Help me roll him on to this.”

“I’m sorry, we’re what?” Molly questioned, even as she did as he’d asked and tried to help push the heavy body onto the tarp.

“We’re taking him back to the house.  If you remember, I was just lamenting the lack of human specimens to test our new serum on.  Ask and you shall receive.”

It took considerable effort to haul the dead weight up the stairs into the kitchen and out the back door of the pub.  Molly spent the entire drive back to Herbert’s house praying that they weren’t pulled over for a traffic stop, and that no one would ask to look in the trunk.

By the time they dragged the corpse into the house (literally dragged, because Molly was surprisingly strong for her size but the drifter had outweighed her by more than seven stone), they were both tired.  Rather than risk injuring themselves trying to get their burden down to the cellar, Herbert brought the absolutely necessary equipment up to the kitchen front hall where they had dumped the tarp wrapped drifter.  

“Shouldn’t we tie him up or something?”  Molly worried her lower lip as she stared at the large body splayed out on the floor. She still remembered Halsey and the damage he’d done before he’d been caught and contained.

“The rats were docile enough, I don’t think that’s necess-“  Herbert slowly stopped talking as Molly narrowed her eyes and glared. “I’ve got some rope in the shed.”

Unfortunately, the serum didn’t work.  They waited nearly thirty minutes, used six vials of the glowing liquid, chest compressions, everything they could think of . . . and nothing.

In all honesty, Molly was relieved that the experiment had been a failure.  The work they’d been doing in the cellar could someday save lives.  How many people died waiting on a transplant list every year?

But that, the corpse currently bound in rope and anchored to the radiator in Herbert’s sitting room . . . That had the potential to become dangerous in the blink of an eye.  

They’d worked hard to modify the serum’s formula.  None of the rodent body parts they’d managed to reanimate had shown any signs of aggression, not even the severed head.  She’d let their small successes and Herbert’s enthusiasm override her cautious nature.  Thank God no one had been forced to pay the price for their hubris this time.

Herbert sat back on his heels and grimaced.  “What is it?  What variables are we overlooking?”

“Herbert.”

He tapped his fingers against the drifter’s still chest and continued to think out loud. “How long would you say he was dead? Those buffoons had to stand around until one of them had the bright idea to summon a doctor.  Five minutes lost there, if I’m being generous.”

“Herbert.”

“Another thirty for Frank to get in his car and drive here, he wouldn’t have sped because he didn’t want the constable to have any reason to pull him over. Twenty-five for us to get to the pub. Then another-“

“Herbert!” Molly nearly shouted.  “Stop.”

“But don’t you see?  It’s the decomposition.  He’s been dead three, possibly four hours before we began.”  He hopped up and gesticulated wildly.  “The rats were all fresh, still warm when we dismembered them. No chance for decomp to set in before we injected the serum.”

Molly used an end table to slowly pull herself up.  Her muscles ached from hauling so much dead weight around.  “We can’t keep doing this.”

He frowned, looking at her as if he didn’t even recognize her, and then his expression cleared and he nodded.  “You’re right.  We’ve been coming at this from the wrong direction.”

That hadn’t been what she’d meant at all, but she was tired and they still had to figure out what to do with the dead man.  “Do I even want to know what you’re talking about?”

“We have to stop the deterioration of the brain matter.  I’m almost positive that is what has been causing the regression to primitive instincts.”

“And violent,” Molly felt the need to remind him.

He waved her off.  “The important thing is that the serum works.“

“We don’t really know that,” Molly quickly interjected.  

Herbert ignored her.  “Clearly, the next step is to find a way to slow down, or even stop, decomposition.”

That seemed like a bit of a leap, but if it meant no more cannibalistic half-zombies then Molly was all for it.  “In the meantime, what do we do with him?”  She nodded toward the body.

After a moment’s thought, Herbert gestured toward the tarp they’d abandoned when they first tied the drifter’s corpse up.  “I’ll wrap him up, you get the shovel out of the shed.”

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

“Considering what you told me earlier, that could have gone much worse,” Sherlock offered.

“Oh, no.  We’re not done.”  Molly rubbed at her forehead.  “Not even close.”

“Damn.” Sherlock stood up from the floor and took her hand.  “Let’s move to the sofa than.  I’m tired of kneeling.”

Once they were settled on the small loveseat, he put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close enough that she could tuck her head under his chin.  He thought it might be easier for her to talk if she didn’t have to look him in the eye.

“Herbert dug a shallow grave behind one of the mausoleums.  Half the village still treated the cemetery as if it were haunted so there wasn’t much chance that anyone would be wandering around the place and stumble across it.”  She took a deep breath and reached for his free hand, tucking her fingers between his. “For two days everything was fine. And then the Meynard boy went missing.”

“Fuck,” Sherlock whispered under his breath.  He felt her tense, and held her hand even tighter to show her that he wasn’t going to run off.  “Did . . . Did they find him?”

“Yeah.”  Molly’s voice broke.  She had to take a minute to compose herself.  “In the meantime, his mother couldn’t handle the stress and worry. Sherry had always been high strung and delicate.  Bad heart. She collapsed in a fit of hysteria, and Herbert happened to be the doctor on call that day.  He went out to their house, thinking that he’d be able to sedate her a bit, calm her down.  Maybe convince Ralph to drive her into the city so she could be admitted to hospital.  She had a heart attack while arguing with them both that she wasn’t leaving until they found her little boy.  Herbert couldn’t save her.”

She tilted her head up.  He could feel the brush of her eyelashes against his jaw as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “Ralph tried to beat the crap out of him, said Herbert didn’t try hard enough. Pretty sure the only thing that saved Herbert was the constable coming by to check in with a progress report on the search.”

She sniffled, and Sherlock knew that whatever was coming was going to be bad.  Very bad.

“Gossip being what it is in a small community, I headed out to Herbert’s that evening.  I wanted to make sure he was okay.  He answered the door with a revolver in his hand. I have no idea how he managed to get his hands on one, or how long he’d had it.  He said he had thought I was Ralph, come to finish the job.  I’d barely been there twenty minutes when someone started pounding on the kitchen door, hard enough to make it shake.”

Even though he knew the answer already, he still asked, “Ralph?”

Molly made a noise that was a cross between a choke and a sob.  “I wish.  Herbert ripped open the door, revolver pointed at his visitor.  It was the drifter, hunched over low enough that his knuckles almost scraped against the broken concrete step outside the door.  I remember thinking he looked like a gorilla. And then I realized that was because he was covered in dirt and grave moss and-and viscera.  He had, hanging out of his mouth he had-“

Sherlock rubbed his cheek against the top of her head.  “Shh, it’s okay.  You don’t have to say it.”

He felt her nod. “Thank you.  Herbert emptied his revolver into it.  All six bullets.  One right in the forehead.”

“How did he explain any of it?  Surely the others had to have said something.  The men in the pub?”

“When Frank asked, Herbert told him there were cases of people being clinically dead and then waking up on the autopsy table.  The drifter must not have been truly dead when he buried him.  And when he woke up and dug himself out, the extensive brain damage from the ‘fall’ must have made him go berserk.  Frank backed off once Herbert mentioned the incident in the pub.”

Molly sighed and sniffled again.  “Ralph laid his wife and son to rest on the same day.  There wasn’t really a need for the second casket, but they buried one anyway.”

#sherlolly halloween at 221b

[greenergrassinsafermeadows]

Chapter 19

“Aaaand That should be enough.” Clara said, setting the 2 jumbo sized bags of assorted candy on top of the refrigerator. “Most of this shit could kill both of you so no one touches it but me.”    “Jolly Ranchers can’t kill me.” “I know, that’s why I’ll save you some on actual Halloween.”    “Why do we need to hand out candy anyway?” Craig leaned against the counter, crossing his arms, “Do you really want to spend Halloween doing nothing but answering the door and giving free shit to kids you don’t know? Isn’t that what cops are supposed to discourage?”     “Payton, Is there really anything wrong with having a mildly relaxing Halloween? You don’t even want to go out and do things most of the time.” “This is different! This is a HOLIDAY which means a lot of people are out having fun and we could be out having fun with a lot of people!” He stepped forward, putting his hands on her shoulders, “Clara. Clara, Clara, Clara. If I swear to you right here and now that this is my real hair, then can we do something fun on Halloween?”      Her only response was to shoot him a glare, he continued, “Well, I mean you obviously know that, you’ve yanked on it enough times when-”     “Payton. This isn’t about last Halloween, last year wasn’t even  about  the- I mean it was that but like a part of a whole thing so it was- Look can we maybe not talk about this?”     “I’m just saying that having one shitty Halloween doesn’t mean you have to keep having shitty Halloweens. C’mon Clara, you can pick whatever thing we do ok? Is that fair?”      She arched a brow, “I can pick anything? ” “Anything other than sitting around handing out candy I can’t even eat.”      Clara considered this very thoroughly. “Borden House Bed and Breakfast.” “The what?”     “Haunted bed and breakfast that’s like 15 minutes from here. Some lady may or may not have murdered her whole family there it was like a whole big thing. That’s my pick.”     “...You know I meant like, a party or dinner or something right?” “You didn't say that and now it's too late.”     “We can go I didn’t say we couldn’t. So, what? They hold a fakey-seance and bang on the walls a few times?” Clara rolled her eyes, turning to walk down the hallway as she spoke, “That’s only if you pay extra for the gimmick stuff, I just wanna see if the place is actually haunted.” She took a seat on the couch, patting the spot next to her. Craig took it and immediately stretched his legs out over her lap.     “You do a really good impression of the main white girl in every horror movie who causes all the problems but somehow survives while all her friends get slaughtered.”    “Awww, babe how’d you know that’s what I’ve always wanted to be?” “Hey fuck off I’m not getting slaughtered.”     “I hereby do solemnly swear, that I will not let a ghost slaughter you under any circumstance.” Clara spoke with dramatic enthusiasm, placing her hand over her heart.      “That’s what they all say, you’ll regret this when I’m chopped to death in the shower by a ghost.”

   By the time Halloween rolled around, Clara hadn’t changed her mind. She’d enlisted the help of the woman in the next apartment over, Bridgette, eighty-three and almost entirely deaf, to hand out extra candy in her place and let Sticks out at around seven. Sticks, as she assured, was very respectful of the elderly and wouldn’t need to be leashed.    Craig on the other hand, was getting less and less enthusiastic about their Halloween plans. Not because he was scared, as he so insisted, but because spending the night in an old house sounded boring. This was the opinion he voiced frequently over the course of the booking, the drive there, and intermittently throughout the tour much to Clara’s annoyance. When night fell though, he’d stopped complaining, it was obvious she wasn’t going to drive him home. Instead he’d turned to his phone as a distraction, which had worked perfectly well up until going to bed. Now, with nothing to take his mind off the fact that a woman murdered her entire family in this house, Craig found himself scooting closer to Clara with every creak of the floorboards. A particularly loud groan from the ceiling pushed him over the edge.     “Psst-” He hissed, reaching out to shake Clara’s shoulder, “Clara- Clara are you still awake?” She heaved a sigh, rolling over to face him, “Yes Payton, I haven’t fallen asleep in the ten minutes since you last asked me that.”      “Oh. Great! Wanna talk?” “About what?” He couldn’t see her in the dark room, but knowing Clara she’d raised a brow at him.      “I dunno? Feelings or some shit? You like pretending to be a therapist right?” She snorted out a laugh, draping an arm over him. “And what are your feelings at the moment Payton? Is one of them ‘Scared enough to not let my girlfriend sleep in case of ghosts’?”     “No! That’s dumb Clara, you’re a terrible therapist.” “You do know therapists aren’t supposed to date their clients.” She said, beginning to retract her arm before he grabbed it back, slightly panicked,     “Fine no psych 101 shit just don’t go to sleep yet!” “Ok, ok, I won’t sleep yet.” She slid closer, putting her arm back around him and cupping his cheek with her free hand, “Look man, I’m sorry, I didn’t know this would freak you out so much.”     “I’m not-” Craig started, but the creak of the pipes in the wall cut him off, and proved him wrong. He jolted slightly, curling in on himself and closer to Clara, “Fine ok, it’s a little creepy! How the fuck do you not think this is creepy??”    She only shrugged, hugging him tighter, this didn’t seem like the time to bring up her fever dream of a near death experience last year. “I think it’s creepy, I just don’t think anything bad’s gonna happen.”      “That sounds like something someone about to get murdered would say.” “I’ve made you watch way too many horror movies haven’t I?”      “...Maybe. That’s not the point though. This isn’t a movie, real people died here.” “Babe historically speaking a real person has probably died on every square foot of the planet.”      “What the fuck?” “Personally,” She continued, “I don’t think ghosts can hurt people, because then they’d just be getting ghost murdered all over the place.”      “Clara-” “I mean we’d just be dropping like flies Payton, think about it, you wouldn’t be able to walk down the street without tripping on a dead body or seven.”    “Clara this is horrible why are we talking about this?” “Sorry,” She leaned forward, kissing his forehead, “My point is we’re gonna be just fine, but if you really want, I’ll stay up until you fall asleep ok?”     Craig hesitated, considering Clara’s ability to punch out a ghost if need be. “Ok.” “And no more haunted hotels, I promise. You can pick next Halloween’s thing.”

#Chapter 19 #GGISM

[ourholly101love]

Chase the Lightning Inuyasha Chapter 3

The stew wasn't only good it was delicious. Inuyasha didn't tell her that though but he finished the bowl and didn't complain. she knew it was good he could tell by the triumphant look on her face. she had obviously forgiven him for teasing her because she smiled as she fed him. ignoring his protests that he was perfectly capable of feeding himself. it wasn't until the bowl was empty that he wondered if perhaps she had poisoned him......maybe that was her reason for her satisfied smile. Inuyasha gave her his best and coldest glare a look guaranteed to frighten young girls and to keep anyone at a distance. but she met his gaze fully and continued to smile, and he found he couldn't maintain the icy look.there was something about the way she was looking at him that melted his determination. She had the most beautiful eyes and the milkiest skin Inuyasha had to look away. She may be Sangos cousin but under the skin she was just like Kikyo. calculating, shallow daddies little girl, running away from a horrible fate of marring a man that cant dance. you might as well call me kagome,you know you can be of great help to me Inuyasha. *(Inuyasha raised an eyebrow) you know this area fairly well I would think?. are there many unattached ranchers near edo?Unattached as in unmarried Inuyasha asked coldly, kagome nodded. is that why you are here your looking for a husband? she nodded again, yes a rancher. why a rancher? have you seen the way miroku looks a sango? sure I live here most of the time or close by anyway." I want someone to look at me that way, scince miroku is a rancher i thought." you cant go by that Kagome, i myself am a rancher first off Miroku is a lousy rancher. getting married and having a family didn't cure his itchy feet, its just that now when he gets the urge to wander he packs up Sango and the twins and  takes them with him, Bankotsu dose all the work when it comes to the ranch and I guarantee Bankotsu is not your type. I’m certain there are others?. trust me kagome sango and miroku have a one in a million marriage your more likely to be struck by lightning then to find what your looking for in edo. As likely as my taking advice from a man who managed to alienate the entire village, from what Ive heard no one likes you and im begenning to see why.Nobody likes the truth Kagome, still set on a rancher? yes Kagome answered" perhaps you can introduce me to your father."Inuyasha didn't move and his look was impassive but he was certain she knew she had touched a nerve, my father is already married and although Inuyoukai often take more then one mate without marking them my father only allows one bitch to his household. Inuyasha  didn't give her a chance to respond the shocked look on her face was enough. but she deserved it. surely she knew, surely Sango had told her at least as much as she knew. nobody knew it all exceptInuyasha and his father and a few ghosts he tried to bury. I’m sorry I shouldnt have said that Inuyasha, Its fine but from now on just leave me alone...Inuyasha...I’m"..No! you dont know me, you have no clue what its like to be hated for what you are. Kagome certainly understood that he didn't see or speak to his Father or even acknowledge him in any way. Inuyasha slowly sank onto the bed and let his mind wander back through the years. Early'st memory was his mother Izayoi his human mother and the daughter of a wealthy lord she was beautiful with long black hair and twinkling brown eyes the family fell on hard times then she met the demon lord his father. but then they were sent away and his mother was killed.he was five when his mother was shot and killed he was almost killed as well. but was pulled away from his mothers body by his older half brother Sesshomaru. So he survived and was brought here to his dads ranch. when he was told of his mothers  death he had tears in his eyes Inuyasha thought they were tears of guilt for sending them away. Toga begged Inuyashato stay but he refused he always did, he didn't realize until much later that he was trying to protect him,he had almost forgotten the lessons in life when He met Kikyo He would never forget it again. Inuyasha lay in the soft bed caught between sleep and full awareness he'd slept far to much in the past two weeks.And now even though it was night and the cabin was quiet he couldn't ease into deep sleep. His side was healing slower then he thought it should, Kagome was finally letting him eat at the table and walk around the house. Allowing him that was what she said and god help him that is how it felt to  him. it was taking  much longer for him to get his strength back as well, he must have been closer to death then he thought for his body to be so slow at healing. Kagome fussed over him all day cleaning his wound. Her hands as soft and gentle as a breeze, her touch was fatherly never lingering against his skin he couldn't understand why he was so drawn to her.WHAT Are you doing out of bed?. Inuyasha turned to see her watching him from the doorway it was a question hes was becoming accustomed to. letting in some fresh air do you approve doctor?. She didn't answer hugging her night gown to herbody theres  Storm coming," Inuyasha moved away from the window there was another long low rumble of thunder and Kagome trembled with fear. I don't like storms she said softly befor my sister Yukari married I would sneak into her room when a storm came at night. After she left home I had to wait out the storms alone, I was much to old to run to Daddy to hide my face in his shoulder as I did when I was little, she looked him straight in the eyes. unsmiling Undaunting  I should have stayed in my room and buried my head under the covers but I thought I could sit with you for awhileI guess it was a silly notion. this is a good sturdy cabin a little wind and rain wont hurt it or blow it away.I know i’m not scared. your not a very good liar but you can stay with me.The Thunder was getting closer with each flash of lightning. Don’t get to close to the window, if you have to watch move the chair back. I don't want to watch. Then Thunder and lightning were closer and kagome jumped it's beautiful though. yes bright and beautiful but dangerous.she turned and looked at him this is highly improper you know?."she said with a smile sitting in here in the middle of the night. staying in the cabin without a chaperon very improper. but this is Colorado not Philadelphia Kagome.why are you afraid of storms? I don't know its not a rational fear. Its not like i’m afraid Ill be struck by lightning or the cabin. Its just I cant control my heart beats I shiver every time the thunder crashes a loud boom sounded above like that, what are you doing? I’m closing the window I could have done that now back in bed for you she turned to leave the room aren't you going to tuck me in Inuyasha said with a wry smile.I swear a twenty five year old baby is what I've got on my handsIt seems like Sango told you a lot about me didn't you two have anything better to talk about when she visited you?.I Assure you we had many conversations about more Interesting subjects then yourself Mr Takahashi you know why I came her and my plans they don't include a...a half civilized moody..Say it Kagome, Half breed was That The word on the tip of your tongue?"...Good Night Inuyasha she turned her back and walked out of the room.Inuyasha had hardly spoken to her since the night before. He believed she had rejected him because of his demon blood.He said That not her, Truth be told she liked him, maybe more then that but how could she tell him that?, she had allowed him to believe it simply by not denying it. That had been easier then trying to tell him the truth, But what is the truth?. the truth is she was attracted to him and why not? he's handsome and she knew enough about him to see through his scowls and frowns that she was falling in love with him.Not in her plans but true none the less she was in love with him.What are you doing chopping wood?", getting my strength back. His words were Harsh his eyes were fierce, That look doesn't scare me yasha and we already have enough wood, and your not getting your strength back your sapping what little you have". now get back into the house Inuyasha glared at her and she glared back at him. It was clear he was unaccustomed to allowing anyone tell him what to do. And he didn't like it not one bit. Im fine a little exercise will do me good. NO" Inuyasha raised an eyebrow No?"he took a step forward and she took a step back no" he took another step forward and she took another step back.stop that Inuyasha, stop what? you said yourself i’m nothing but a sick weak old man. Who should be confined to a bed or is there another reason you want me in bed?, you couldn't catch me if you tried, are you sure little girl she turned on her heels and ran as fast as she could which wasn't very fast. She could hear him behind her his feet landing on the grassy earth his breathing got closer and closer she expected him to stop at any moment. But he stayed with her until she felt his strong arm snake around her waist and they both fell to the ground the very breath knocked out of her as she hit the ground.  Inuyasha covered her body with his for a moment he didn't move, Inuyasha are you alright?, I’m fine, Then your right your all better.. No you were right I cant move, I told you so you can gloat later. can you move at all are you bleeding again?. Try to take a deep breath she pressed against him and They rolled together slowly till his weight was off of her.  she was on top of him Inuyasha was strong but he still need'ed her.she could feel his heart beating against her, Sango told her that one day Inuyasha would find a girl that wasn't frightened half to death of him and heaven help them both when that happened. he didn't scare her in the least she kissed him and pulled away before he had a chance to react,she didn't know why she did it Inuyasha’s eyes flew open what in the hell did you do that for?"sorry you just looked like you needed to be kissed. They might have stayed there awhile if they hadn't heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, suikotsu was standing near the porch. I brought you some groceries miss  Higarashi I'll just leave them in the kitchen, thank you Suikotsu its very kind of you. he turned and looked at her I warned you about inuyasha he said in a low voice. I know you did but...Suikotsus eyes widened as he looked over her shoulder she turned her head to see Inuyasha approaching them very slowly, I see you can move again?, yes babe he answered to her mortification i finallygot my strength back. His words seemed to have a double meaning he reached out and plucked a long blade of grass from her hair dropping it to the ground, as he placed his arm around her. Kagome saw the buckboard disappear with a sinking heart he didn't know why he did it, why he made certain suikotsu left with the wrong impression, actually he did know why he didn't want her to marry a rancher he knew it was foolish he didn't want to see her... watch her grow fat with another mans child that thought stopped  him completely it was time for him to get away from the ranch away from edo. what did it matter who she married?, it didn't not at all but some how he already felt like she was his. you know before the sunsets on edo everybody will think you and I, I don't give a damn what they think,"During the next few days the women of edo came to the cabin alone or with guests. bringing cakes,bread and smoked meats, As well as fresh vegetables. they arrived each and everyone of them hoping to find Kagome rolling in the grass like Suikotsu had told had kagome known that is why they came was to gather gossip yes she did did she care no not really, but she charmed them all. pouring cup after cup of tea, praising every sweet pastry and loaf of bread that past under her nose, sheasked for recipes for the vegetables. Inuyasha always made brief and memorable appearances whats for dinner babe? he came through shirtless of course. sorry I Didn't know you had company Kagome had to bite her lip to keep from shouting the devil you didn't! I m leaving tomorrow he said Solemnly still refusing to step aside, his arms were crossed over his chest as he blocked her path.Tomorrow really? really Inuyasha said Stepping aside for her to brush past him, as soon as I put you on the stage.I’m not going anywhere, yes you are your going home, I most certainly am not they could stand there all day and not finish this argument. If I have to tie you up and throw you on the back of the buckboard with your bags I will he turned away from her Kagome stood in the middle of the room speechless For the first time in her life. She couldn't go home not yet.Then Inuyasha stalked into the room scowling, pulled her against him with a low curse and kissed her. This was not a kiss on the cheek, This was a kiss that locked lips to hers and held her tight to his chest she could barely breath. His mouth was strong and demanding and then something changed. He still held her but not so tightly, his lips still pressed against hers she wrapped her arms around Inuyasha’s waist then he pulled away. He had the strangest look in his amber eyes unsure of what just happened. Bankotsu stood in the doorway I brought over the buckboard as you asked you sure you don't need me to drive?, Ill do it Inuyasha said coldly. sure will hate to see you leave Miss Higarashi...Kagome stared at Inuyash, he could smell the tears getting ready to fall but she held them back. Another one of your performances you saw him coming and that is why you kissed me?" you must be proud of yourself for making me think you cared, I’m not going anywhere bankotsu she said softly if you  want to leave then leave.Ill stay in town till Sango comes back.you will be on that stage, I’m not Kagome snapped and you cant make me your not my keeper,my Father or my Husband. as Kagome stormed out of the cabin she finally let the tears fall, what ever  had driven him to go back in the cabin  and kiss her? where had the uncontrollable urge come from? he knew she believed the kiss to be another one of his plots to ruin her reputation an embrace to startle Bankotsu nothing more, he would allow her to believe that was grateful in fact that she did even if his heart was breaking this was for the best,he had no explanation for the act otherwise none at all.but he couldn't shake the memory of the kiss it was like being caught in a storm of lightning coursing through his body,the thunder in his heart he had never experienced anything like it before. The feeling of losing control his past experience with women left him void of emotion but Kagome was all emotion he only to look at her face to know what she was feeling right now.She was angry, hurt but there was a twinkle in her eyes he didn't like it not at all, she was up to something. she hadn't begged him to stay since they left the cabin, what are you up to, I don't know what your talking about what makes you think I’m up to something." your going home." I suppose eventually Ill go home but not now,thats not what i said Kagome. well what will you do ride with me the whole way? you put me on the stage Ill just get off at the first stop, will you ride all the way there with me? will you carry me to my house hand me to my father like i was some sort of criminal, what business is it of yours where I go like I said you are not my keeper.I will go where I choose, you really should go home. Thats not your concern is it,? I was a fool to think you really cared but it was all a game to you and I thought Inu had honor I guess I was wrong,  I've decided to wait at the hotel Till sango returns do you have a problem with that? they road the rest of the way to town in silence.will the stage be on time? last week it was an hour late Jakotsu answered, I wont be on it Inuyasha so give up." If you put me on it Ill kick and scream and Ill be back on the street before it can move ten feet, she was smiling when she delivered her threat. Inuyasha looked at her a ticket for the stage and a length of rope Inuyasha turned and walked away. jakotsu was concerned about what was happening are you alright? as he placed his hand on kagomes shoulder, as well as can be expected, I guess Inuyashais determined to get rid of me . why I thought Yuka replayed I mean I would just die if a man talked to me that way."why is he making you leave? because he's a pig headed bully...who’s to say why men do what they do?.outside Inuyasha was surrounded by a half a dozen men Kagome knew something was wrong as she ran towards them stop it!"she yelled as she pushed her way through, what do you think your doing?!" Kagome grabbed the rifle from the front of the buckboard let him go she screamed, now four men looked at her back off Lady one of them said this doesn't concern you, i said let him go!"come on sweetheart you know you cant use that thing, your gonna hurt someone if you not careful, yeah you if you don't let him go this is the winchester 73 a most effective center fire repeating rifle its also called the 44-40 or 44 caliber kagome dropped the lever and pulled it back up my cousin sango taught me to shoot do you feel lucky asshole. everyone paled He burned Toga Takahashis barn," I’m certain you mistaken, Inuyasha didn't burn anything. he was seen riding away on that damn black stallion of his another man yelled. it was during the storm, then I know your man is mistaken Inuyasha was with meall that night he didn't go anywhere.so your claiming Inuyasha didn't leave the cabin that night even as you slept? naraku spoke up.we weren't sleeping at all that night and i can tell you he didn't go anywhere, they didn't care if Inuyasha was Innocent or not they wanted to get rid of him, and would do so with no more regret then they might squash a bug. so your willing to swearin front of the whole town that you and Inuyasha have been living there in sin." I never said that but you believe what you want If thats what you want to believe but the only way your going to hurt him is to kill me first and how will that look for your village a heartless village that hangs innocent men on a whim and young mothers are shot down in the street you may try to keepit secret but Sango will know and it will spread like wild fire, soon she had the crowd in the palm of her hand there was only one person not swayed Naraku walked to the front and prepared to slap the horse's, what about my baby Naraku stopped the Mob stared at herthere was shock in the crowd, even Inuyasha looked down at her with an unreadable fire in his eyes if you hang him what will happen to our baby, what will Sango say,Suikotsu spoke up lets think about this now keep are wits about us if she swears Inuyasha was home that night, I have to tell you to cut him down, Naraku stepped into the wagon just cant keep your hands off the human women can you?knocked up sangos Cousin now were going to have to watch you marry the pretty little thing don't seem fair.Your crazy Kagome I'd rather hang, you know Naraku said we would be doing Sango and Miroku a real disservice if we didnt take care of this pronto preacher? you available this afternoon? the minister nodded, that really not necessary theres no hury, nonsense theres no reason to delay this" five guns were trained on Inuyasha only this time they were leading him to a much different fate Kagome paced the small room, Id much rather wait for Sango she said to no one in particular...And give Inuyasha Takahashi a chance to disappear Yuka spoke up that wouldn’t be right Kagome, it would have been right to wait for Miroku and Sango they would have known what to do but it wasn't going to be allowed might as well make the best of it. It appears the whole village will be present for my wedding she said with more then a trace of amusement" wouldn't a reception Afterward be Appropriate"?She turned questioning eyes to the women around her, Yeah something outside in the field behind the church surly we could put something together some kind of party punch and sandwiches maybe some music we'll see what we can do.THE Church was full and every man in the room was armed the front pew was filled with men their six shooters and rifles trained on her groom a shot gun wedding with the entire town in attendance shops closed down the stage was quickly hurried through even the black smith was silent was this a wedding or funeral even though she felt like a princess Inuyasha looked very little like prince charming at the moment, she could feel anger radiating from him like the heat from a fire, Inuyasha leaned over and whispered, Ill get you for this little girl the minister faltered a bit but continued, this Is your fault mr Takahashi, now be quiet and pay attention to the ceremony, Ill strangle you with my bare hands if its the last thing i do, no you wont Kagome answered him. Inuyasha? the minister Interrupted I do?...Do I have a choise? he looked at the men with the guns, I guess i do the minister repeated the oath to the bride and kagome was more responsive then her groom and then the minister pronounced them man and wife. you may kiss the bride, your supposed to lift the veil and kiss me she whispered, Ive done all i’m going to do Inuyasha stated , the room was silent as everyone waited a little kiss on the cheek will suffice and so he did he gave Kagome what she obviously didn't expect he wrapped his arms around her lowered his lips to hers and gave her a searing kiss that rocked her very soul and his as well and then her words came to him its much more Interesting to give them what they least expect and so he did the guns in the front pew lowered and still he kissed her, the minister cleared his throat and still he kissed her men in the back rose to get a better look and were jerked back into their seats by their wives and still Inuyasha kissed her when he finally released her Kagome took a breath and Inuyasha gave her a Devilish grin. Inuyasha decided his wife was right it really was more fun to give people what they least expected but he knew it wasn't the only reason he kissed her, he kissed her because he wanted to, he kissed her because he needed to, In one quick motion Inuyasha picked her up and walked with long strides away from the minister, this comes later Yasha your supposed to walk me...shut up woman you are my wife now, and you will do as i say and if i want to carry you out of the church then...I haven’t had a chance to explain my plan. plan? this is all part of a plan?Inuyasha asked  well in a way,then Naraku walked up at least let me kiss the bride he spoke up with a grin.the man lowered his face to kagome even as she tried to move away from him but it wasn't necessary before he could touch her with his lips Naraku went flying backwards and landed on his ass in the dirt he barely had time to catch his breath when Inuyasha was lifting him by the throat, touch my mate again Ill kill you he had the attention of everyone there but no one came forward, Inuyasha heard whispers Naraku tried to kiss Lady Kagome, that Naraku never had any Manners, Inuyasha took care of him good and then Kagome was by his side as she glared at his terrified face trying to decide weather to hit him herself, you can let him go Yasha he didn't mean any harm he's just an Ill  mannered oaf.

[myapplepiewasfreakinworthitposts]

you cant be against animal cruelty while paying for unnecessary harm to animals every single day ... its not even "propaganda" or everything, thats literally how it is. killing an animal simply because you like the taste definitely is unjustified abuse, you cant defend that

(For reference, I reblogged a post a few weeks back about meat-eaters and how they can’t be against animal cruelty. If I remember correctly, I said that it was an idiotic statement.)

Lmao. Sure anon, sure. Keep telling yourself that. Do some distributors partake in animal cruelty? Yes, absolutely. Those need to be shut down. Do all? No. They take care of their animals and euthanize them painlessly.

Now, let’s look long-term. I live very close to farm country. 15 minutes and I’m in the middle of farms. The number one issues a family friend of mine faces with his larger farms are the fawns that get into the crops during harvesting. 20 years ago, it wasn’t a big problem because our population was low and we had few vegetarians/vegans; now, his farm is one of the largest in the state and he’s constantly encountering fawns during harvest. Unfortunately, it’s hard to see them when you’re on your equipment and these fawns will not move at the noise. See what I’m getting at? When our vegetarian/vegan community exploded, his farm needed to expand which meant even MORE fawns. I hate to give you this mental image, but what sounds more humane? Meat eaters with painless killing, or crushing fawns to death?

So, how do we keep the fawns out? Well, there’s always switching back to humans harvesting the plants, but that’s slow, expensive, leads to outsourcing, and you run the risk of contamination (such as the carrot issue a few months back). We could also have people running and checking if there are any fawns, which is plausible for smaller farms, but large farms would find this difficult as you need to check between each and every individual crop. With the presence of predators, it’s just not safe. Finally, fences. It sounds good, but this disrupts the flow of our ecosystem and any migrational patterns nearby. Additionally, this isn’t fool-proof; even farms with fences still have issues with deer and fawns.

That’s only one animal getting crushed. I haven’t even touched on the hummingbirds, bees, wolves, coyotes, moose, and bear issues we have because of farming with the best that we can keep up with at our current rate.

Going back to the environmental impact now. When more people want to go vegetarian and vegan, what happens? I’ll give you a hint: farms expand to meet demand. Where do they expand into? There are two options, typically: they buy out residential properties, or they build on undeveloped land. This undeveloped land is typically prairie land where small rodents live underground and small- to medium-sized predators hunt. By building on this, we kill those animals by either crushing them or starving them. Occasionally someone will buy secluded forestland, but then they’re destroying a bare minimum of 100 acres of land that houses animals such as mule deer, kestrels (endangered), black bears, timber wolves, and moose.

Because of current farming practices, we’re overtilling the earth and heavily scarring it. We are not giving the soil enough time to recuperate so we’re losing fertile land. If we were to return all of the farmland in the mountains, it still wouldn’t be the same. It would take several decades at the very least for many of those sections of land to recuperate if we just stopped right now. By increasing demand, we’re only making it worse and there is almost NO presence from the vegan and vegetarian community to improve these practices. If demand is increased, what will it do to those animals? We will back them into a corner like we did the pandas. This doesn’t even address the issue of how pesticides interact with animals, but they’re necessary for higher yields and lower costs.

Before the argument of “well just replace the grazing land!” comes up, let me point out a few things. Initially, this does not destroy the soil with most ranchers. They move their livestock so that they don’t eat too much in one section. Second, the amount of space required to feed a family varies dramatically. One large, healthy cow can feed a person every day for a year very easily and requires only a large enclosure and enough room to comfortably move and graze. Pretending this is a large cow and we’re planting our corn a little close, let’s say we have 50 stalks of 6’ tall corn. Even at 50 stalks with 10+ cobbs, that will not feed this person for that same period of time. This is a high-yield crop that can be planted closely together, but others are not like this. The food availability would drop. Finally, free range. These ranchers share their grazing areas with the animals already there. They are only taking up the space necessary to house and care for their livestock and they are not damaging the environment. There’s nothing to replace there.

So I know this was long, but I want to clarify that while I respect the vegan and vegetarian lifestyle, it is not flawless. It is not perfectly moral. It is not stopping animal suffering. There are negative environmental effects along with regular animal fatalities due to farm equipment being used. I do agree that the animal farming industry needs reform, and that’s why I always buy local where I know the animals are well taken care of and I’ve seen how they’re killed.

I don’t want any animal in pain. I don’t want an animal hurting. I want animals to live healthy, happy lives and pass quickly and peacefully when it’s their time. That’s why I’m okay with eating meat and am against animal cruelty. That’s why I think this anon is also full of crap by saying that only vegetarians or vegans can be against animal cruelty because of what they eat.

[torreygazette]

beer scene retrospective

I started drinking beer about 9 years ago. My first beer was a perfectly respectable Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. I was 22 (almost 23) and I knew that I had seen a lot of other people drinking this, so I would give it a try. I was not expecting it to taste so much like grain—corn in particular—and I was like, “I'm not sure I care for this.” But you order it, you finish it.

My second beer, and the first six-pack I bought, was Sierra Nevada Torpedo. I had precisely 6 ounces before deciding that was enough and putting the bottle back in the fridge.

After that, I branched out into Long Trail and Magic Hat, because in 2010, they were reliable and recognizable New England beers. I tried a lot of different ales, and by that fall had started getting into some stouts and porters. I don't remember at what point along the way I became a hop-head, absolutely craving the bitterness provided by IPAs, but it was definitely before they became the token beer, the ones that dominate tap lineups, brewery offerings, and conversation between beer bros. At that point, you could go to a bar and there would be one or two IPAs, plus lagers, stouts, brown ales, porters, hefeweizens... I could go on. At my local taprooms, you're more likely now to find 2-3 IPAs, most of which will be NEIPA, a stout, and maybe a lager.

It was a really fun few years in my life. At that point I knew next to nothing about what I liked, so I tried tons of things. There were some flops. Back then, cider wasn't available the way it is now, so I bought Woodchuck Granny Smith thinking it would taste like, you know, Granny Smith apples—which I love. It tasted like melted apple Jolly Ranchers. I ended up making beef stew with it.

The first sour I encountered? Dogfish Head Festina Peche. I thought something was wrong with it. I just didn't know. I didn't like everything I had, but that was okay, because I was in information-gathering mode, and so I tried EVERYTHING. Including the sampler pack from Sam Adams, which even then I realized was pretty forgettable.

Restaurant beer offerings have changed so significantly in the past few years, a newer beer drinker might not appreciate how easy it is to find craft and local options on tap literally almost everywhere, even at chains.

The IPAs of the mid-2010s were almost all West Coast style. They weren't called that then, they were just called IPAs. They were by and large piney. If there was citrus, it was astringent, leaning more towards grapefruit than orange. You could see through them, in most cases. The IBUs varied, but this was before the phase of "this is going to hurt"-high IBU IPAs which would hit in the mid-2010s. It's like hot wings, in my opinion. There's a level of heat or hops at which one is no longer enjoying it. So they were heavily hopped, but not crushingly so, and you still tasted a fair amount of malt.

So in the late 2010s, when NEIPA (New England IPA) started to come on the scene, I was initially excited. I thought, hey, they're hazy, they're unfiltered, this is interesting. And I had some which were genuinely just an unfiltered West Coast IPA - I like those. But I thought the lack of bitterness in the majority of them was a bug, not a feature. And then recently I've had a couple which were bad, like, go home and puke bad. I still don't know exactly why this is happening: poorly brewed, dirty tap lines, actual bacteria, or a function of my stomach chemistry not enjoying the extra lactose. Don't know, don't care. After realizing I was never going to find a NEIPA that actually tasted bitter, I lost all interest. You can only have so many citrus juice explosions ("juice bomb" is the term you'll see tossed around a lot) before starting to miss the pine and grapefruit of yore. What's interesting is that NEIPAs have become a "gateway IPA" for many people who otherwise wouldn't touch one, and that includes a lot of women. Hashtag inclusivity. I'm not going to lie: when you say you like IPAs and you mean NEIPAs, we're talking about almost completely different things at this point.

As I'm writing this, I'm drinking a Long Trail Cranberry Gose. I've gotten into goses this summer. Sour ale, by the book brewed with salt & coriander, and usually some kind of fruit flavor. This is fine. I like acid, and this is a way for me to have a beer that isn't a massive IPA in this heat. I've gotten into ciders pretty strongly in the past year or so too - the cider scene has exploded, and they're not sickly sweet if you don't want that. (In fact, I had a gose-style cider that I'm still thinking about. It was sheer joy in a can.)

I mean, cider! Cider gets its own paragraph! You can get depressed pretty easily about some of the less-popular beer styles all but disappearing, you can miss West Coast IPAs, you can mourn the lost innocence and wonder of the way the beer scene was 7-10 years ago before it was hip to be double dry-hopped, but it's hard to not be really happy about the absolute boom of cider. With an increasing number of people choosing to forego gluten for a variety of reasons, cider is having a heyday our 1800s ancestors could not possibly have imagined. Good cider is just apples, no sugar added, and then the dryer the cider, the less sugar remains in it anyway. Whenever I have one I say "I am having a low-carb health beverage" and I mostly believe myself.

In writing this and remembering how much fun it was exploring, I'm kind of reminding myself here, but also urging you: taste some things you wouldn't normally. Most breweries are happy to let you do so provided you buy a pint or flight of something. Track everything on Untappd because you won't remember any of it anyway. Do tastings at home with friends, even if that's just 3 or 4 of you with a couple good beers apiece. Expand your palates! Demand more IPAs that don't lean on the Citra crutch! (There's another piece that could be written here about the dangers of creating a citra-heavy hop market which will lead to a monoculture which will lead to disease and then a citra shortage, but for now I'm just going to leave that prediction here...)

I recently bought another 6-pack of Torpedo. It's not my favorite, but it's still so solid. With the beer market continuing to explode in some ways and implode in others, it's too easy to get distracted by this new offering with that fancy label - never hurts to return to our first loves, the flagship beers by the industry stalwarts. Classics are classic for a reason. Happy drinking!

#Beer