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kiwisbell · 6 months

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Las Mañanas || Chapter 5 [javier peña]

She’s a waitress in a little café. He’s a DEA agent who likes the coffee. Just the coffee. That’s all. Or, slices of life (and sometimes pie) shared between Javi and his wife, including his tireless journey to making her his wife.

series masterlist | my masterlist

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags/warnings: javi getting the fucking love he deserves, coffee shop AU if you squint really hard, reader no longer has a shitty husband(!!), mentions of sex work, soft and sweet!javi, protective!javi, grumpy!javi, simp!javi tbh, alcohol, smoking, so much fluff, nobody fucks with javi's girl, overuse of spanish pet names, poorly-translated spanish, "she" pronoun used throughout, oral sex (m and f receiving), guilt & shame, brief relationship angst, stakeouts, stechner is a dick, javi is an idiot for a while, premature ejaculation, makeup sex (actually makeup pussy-eating), chucho being peak dad, nightmares

word count: ~ 7.6k

a/n: communicate with your partners, people.

chapter five: love me until i love myself

They don't fight often. But when it happens, it's usually Javier’s fault. This time is no different.

You could hardly call them fights. Sometimes he forgets he's allowed to share things with her, that he doesn't need to stay silent and mope the way he was used to doing before they met. Sometimes he catches himself smoking by the window when she's asleep because he's woken up and can’t go back, no matter how warm and soft she is beside him. She’ll wake up, too, sensing his absence—then she'll sit by the window with him and give him a good stare until he realises he can talk. He can open up.

Sometimes he doesn't. It happens when he gets worked up, when he's been suffering through bureaucracy and red tape and evasive weasels. He doesn't want to burden her with that shit, so he buries it; he needs to feel it, to stew so he can get past it next time. But she doesn't take it.

“Be honest with me,” she said, softly, sliding onto his lap in the chair by the window. “Is there anything I’ve done to make you feel like you can't tell me these things?”

It wasn't a vindictive question. It was a real one, full of genuine curiosity. And it made him feel like a total asshole. “No, baby. Fuck no.”

She pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him there. “We're partners,” she whispered against his skin. “It kills me to see you so down, honey. I know it's the job, but I hate knowing I can't help.”

Javier crushed his cigarette and pulled her in close, flush to his chest, while he blew out smoke. “You help me just by breathing, amor.”

“Talking takes breathing,” she said teasingly, nosing along his cheek. “You can talk to me, Javier. I know sometimes you don't want to, and that's okay, but what’s not okay is you shutting me out, ignoring me. I had enough of that when I was married.”

And that gentle scolding kicked some real fucking sense into him. “Shit,” he grunted, rubbing his hand over his face. “Shit, baby, I know. I’m sorry.” He cradled the back of her head and looked into her eyes. “I’ll talk.” He pulled her in and kissed her. She sighed into his mouth.

He was a complete dumbass. He didn't deserve the way her body curved into his or her soft moans melted his bones. He didn't deserve the kindness of her reprimands when he'd been so fucking stupid. But, like she sensed his self-loathing creeping up, she pulled away and said, “I love you. Nothing’s going to change that. You’re not like him and you will never be like him. Te amo, vaquero.” She kissed him hard. “Te amo.”

This time, it feels worse. Los Pepes have him on edge, worried about when they'll inevitably turn, deciding she's a good target if he makes a wrong move. He’s in bed with narcos, while he sleeps next to the love of his life. It's the stupidest decision he's made in a long time, and it's a decision he made to keep the streets safer.

He didn't know then that digging in deep would put her trust in him at risk.

“Los Pepes will serve him justice,” says Don Berna with a mirthless laugh. “Ever in your service, Agent Peña.”

Javier sniffs. “You're in your own service.”

Tomorrow morning, Los Pepes will raid the home of Rodolfo Vargas, a trafficker recently recruited by the Medellín cartel to move drugs through his auto body shop. They're effective and efficient, and they're bloody as all hell. More violence isn't what Medellín needs, but it's what they'll get if they want any chance at taking down the cartel. It's not a rosy job, and Javier hates himself more and more for it each visit he makes with Berna.

“Got a cigarette?”

It's a bait of a question. Javier’s clearly already smoking. It’s a test to see if he’s willing to stay and chat after their exchange. He isn't, but this means Berna’s got more to say.

Javier passes him a cigarette, but he lets the man light it on his own. “That's one beautiful woman you keep on your arm, Peña,” says Berna good-naturedly.

That gruff voice of his grates Javier’s ears and incites a vague panic. But his fury rings loud and clear. “I’ve seen many beautiful women in my life,” he says evenly.

Don't you dare fucking talk about her. Leave her out of this.

Berna’s laugh is a real goddamned smoker’s laugh. If Javier doesn't quit the way he’s been talking about, he'll sound like that before he’s forty. “It’s a nice little place she runs. Good coffee.” His eyes slide Javier's way. “Don't see a ring on her finger.”

“Do you have a point, Berna?” He can pass off the tightness in his jaw as his cheeks hollowing around his cigarette. But not for much longer. He's learned his limits when it comes to her; it doesn't take much taunting talk like this for him to show his hand. He needs to manoeuvre carefully.

“No point, my friend,” says Berna. “It's good to see men like you happy. And with a woman like her”—he whistled—“I can see why you smile. Do you do this for her?”

Javier scoffs like he couldn't be bothered for such unmanly talk. “I came out here to smoke alone, you know. I do this because it's my job.”

“That's good to know.” Berna takes another drag. “Los Pepes will make Medellín safer for your girl.”

Berna knows he's in Javier’s head. He's got the upper hand with the mention of her. He must have seen them together last night. Javier took her out to dinner. “Fuck you, and fuck your threats,” he says at last. “We have a deal, Berna. Aiming threats at her is the best way to break it.”

He crushes his cigarette and leaves in his truck. By the time he gets home, it's an hour later than he promised, and his body is tense enough to saw a plank of wood in half. She's still awake, as they promised so long ago, lounging on the couch while the TV drones a telenovela. She loves them. They're the kind of mindless drama she gets sucked into. The real-world shit has burned her one too many times.

“Hi,” she says softly, sitting up and yawning. “Everything okay?”

And she isn't angry. Of course she's not angry; it's their deal that they stay awake for one another so they won't go to bed upset. It's perfectly reasonable.

So Javier, like the moron he is, grunts and leaves for the bathroom without so much as a kiss hello.

He splashes water onto his face and stares in the mirror as the seconds tick by. He turns the shower hot, hot enough to scald, and stands underneath the stream. He doesn't even wash himself. He just drowns in self-loathing until enough time has passed that he can call it a shower.

When he leaves the bathroom, she's moved to the kitchen. He smells soup, and his stomach grumbles with hunger he didn't know he was feeling. He hasn't eaten since breakfast.

Neither of them speaks until she places a bowl in front of him and sits down. “You had a hard day,” she says, looking him in the eye even as he feels too ashamed to meet hers. “I understand. It's unfair of you to treat me like I don’t.”

He knows. Fuck, he knows. She doesn't deserve this. But his brain won't let him pry his mouth open to let her in. It's like someone’s put a lock in his own head. He feels tight inside, his stomach a coil that won't snap. It’s not you. It’s. Not. You. I just can't stop hating myself and the things I do. I love you so fucking much. I need you to be safe. Know that. Please.

He can't say any of it. “Everything’s fine,” he shoves out.

Her lips purse. “You're scaring me, Javier. You're coming home late, and you're acting like I’m not here, and you look out the windows every five minutes. Is there someone coming for us? Do I need to be worried?”

“I told you,” he bites, “everything’s fine. I just—”

“Had a hard day.” She nods slowly, but that pinch of irritation in her eyes doesn't leave. “But it isn't fine. I think you know by now that I know you better than anyone. So what makes you think I’m going to leave this alone?”

“Nothing,” he says, and it snaps harsher in the quiet air than he meant it to. “Nothing makes me believe you'll leave it alone, because you never leave anything alone. You keep digging and digging and I don't want to fucking talk. Talking doesn't solve shit. So just leave. It. Alone.”

He doesn't even mean it. And he certainly doesn't mean to say it all to her. Never her. But he can't take it back, and now he sounds just like her ex-husband.

Her face crumbles. She doesn't even look angry anymore; she just looks sad. She shuts down, pulls her hand back. “I’m going to eat downstairs with Connie,” she says, her voice breaking. “She’s alone tonight, too. I’ll let you think.”

When she stands, she lifts her hand like she wants to touch his cheek the way she usually does when they stand from the dinner table. Javier chokes on every word he wants to say. He wants to stand up and grab her and pull her close, and he wants to let everything fall out while he begs her to stay. I can’t lose you.

But he lets the door click softly shut behind him.

He feels the bed dip a little after midnight. He's still awake when he feels her lips against his cheek, but he keeps his eyes closed. He's definitely still awake when he hears her sniffle quietly beside him, the sound muffled. She's facing away from him.

They wake up at the same time, their eyes meeting in that slow, groggy way until they both remember where they are. Where they are.

He opens his mouth, but she scrambles out of bed like a bomb went off and heads to the bathroom.

“You should let me drive you,” he rasps when he leaves the bedroom to see her packing her purse for work. She's already dressed, fresh-faced and ready, but her eyes are sunken.

She fakes a smile, and he notices the way her eyes don't fully meet his. She just looks at a spot above his brow. “I’m okay,” she says, too brightly to be real. “I’ll be safe. Have a—” She catches herself before she can say Have a good day. “I’ll see you after work. Love you.”

She leaves without letting him return it. Without a kiss good-bye. He deserves it all. She deserves to shove a knife straight into his chest and twist. It would dull the pain that rests there now.

“I love you,” he says to the empty room.

I’m going to fucking kill you.

Nonono. Not him. Please, take me, not him. I love him. Please.

Not her. Leave her alone. I’ll fucking hunt you down. I’ll fucking kill you, I swear.

You’ll regret leaving me. I’ll make you watch him die. Then I’ll take you back. You’ll remember that you loved me.

She jolts awake from another nightmare. Her hand comes up to stifle her cries so she doesn't wake Javier.

Javier, who's lying next to her, his face gentle and serene with sleep, lips slightly parted, naked and holding her close. The morning light turns his face golden, and he's so peaceful she can't think to wake him just because she had a nightmare. So, she slips out from under his heavy arm, from his legs which are tangled with hers, and stumbles to the bathroom. She clicks the door gently shut and sinks to the floor so she can let herself cry.

Javier wakes when he feels her warmth slip away. He shuffles absentmindedly toward her side of the bed, eyes still closed, only to pout when her body isn't there for him to bury himself deep into. For a moment, he's just grumpy, but then he blinks himself awake and starts to feel uneasy. Like something is wrong.

The bathroom door is closed, but there are soft sniffles coming from within. Javier's heart spikes and he pushes open the door without thinking.

What he sees destroys him. She's sitting on the floor with her nightgown on, knees drawn up to her chest, leaning against the vanity. She scrambles to her feet when the door opens, wiping underneath her eyes aggressively. "Morning," she says weakly, trying to smile.

Javier smooths back her hair and presses a kiss to her forehead. "Baby, what's wrong? What happened?"

His mere touch seems to set her off again. She grasps his wrists hard and sobs shudder through her body. "Bad—" She hiccups. "Bad dream. I'm sorry, this is stupid. Didn't mean to wake you. It’s late."

"It's morning, honey." He doesn't like the way the corners of her mouth pull down, the way her eyes shine with such misery. He especially doesn’t like that he put that look on her face when he refused to let her in. "Talk to me," he says softly. "¿Sí?"

She sniffles. "He made me watch you die. He killed you. I couldn't even look. I just wanted to die, too. I'm sorry. I'm..." She buries her face in her hands and begins to cry again. Javier's heart snaps.

"Ven aquí, cielito, ven aquí." He keeps on muttering to her while she wraps her arms around him and holds on tight, her nails digging into his back. He doesn't mind. "I'm here, baby," he says into her hair. "I've got you. I'm here. Not going anywhere."

She presses her face so deep into his body it's like she's trying to make them one person. “Can't lose you.”

“Never gonna lose me,” he says, kissing the top of her head. “Got a lot to stay alive for, hey?”

She sniffles and looks up at him. “I didn't deserve the way you talked to me that night.”

“No. You didn't. I’ve been a complete asshole.” He caresses her arms.

“Want to tell me why?” she offers.

The unbreachable safe inside his head cracks open when she places her hand over his heart. “Fuck, baby, I just—you’re my life.” He breathes in and surprises himself when it stings, when he feels the hot prick of tears behind his eyes. “I say it all the time, but I can't lose you. I can’t. It would kill me. And what I’m doing—it's dangerous and stupid. It's something I never should have done. But I’m in deep, and if I make a wrong move…”

He's crying before he knows it, but he doesn't try to stop. He buries himself in her, holding her close and wetting the crook of her neck while her hands rub soothing circles over his back, his neck. “Javi,” she whispers, her own voice choked with tears. “It’s okay. We're okay. I’m all yours.”

She's babbling just as much as he was, but it feels so good, uncoiling the tight wire around his heart. “I just want to know that you trust us both enough to talk to me. That you trust us to fix things when they're wrong.”

“Wanna keep you away from all of it,” he huffs into her hair, grabbing a chunk of it just because it’s so soft. “Never want you to see another fuckin’ second of pain.”

“Vaquero,” she coos. “I lived a tough life when I came here. Made bad choices. I’ve seen pain and I’ll see more. But you’re the one who brought me out. You helped when you never had to. I loved you all the way back then, and I’ll love you no matter what you have to do.”

“How…” He chokes on the words, but forces them out anyway. “How can you say that when you don’t know?”

What he’s done, what is yet to come. The laws he’s broken, the people he’s cut a deal with.

She shakes her head. “I trusted you enough to put my life in your hands. I trust that you’re good. That’s all I know, Javier. I know you’re good.”

Their kiss is wet and salty with tears, but it feels like a bridge has mended.

This is what happens when you love a person: you blame everyone in the world but them. You blame the world itself for opening up a rift between you. When it closes, you go to bed, and you rest your head upon their chest and feel the stitches where the edges were sewn back up. It will be okay.

Lying in bed with his head on her chest, he tells her everything about Los Pepes. Her stomach plummets and her lips press together, but when he's done, she keeps on stroking his hair and she whispers, “Thank you.”

She's terrified for him. But he feels strangely lighter, falling slowly asleep on her as she hums a song she used to sing to her sister. Los Pepes is a speck that he can wipe off the window. This, here, with her, is the only clarity he's ever had.

She's three orgasms in, and Javier just. Keeps. Going.

She's going to be late for work. The morning sun spills over the bed, warming her naked, sweating skin, but she’s lost track of time. She's twisting her fingers into the pillow she grabbed two orgasms ago, holding it to her face when he pulls her clit into his mouth and sucks… making her come for a fourth fucking time.

Her scream is raw and practically noiseless. She can barely see with the tears clouding her vision, but she seeks his face out, trying to bring herself back to reality. Her whole body is limp and useless, her thighs twitching as she comes down.

He looks like he's in heaven. His eyes are open, their soft brown wide and seeking, making sure she's all right, not too stimulated. His hair is wild from her grip and his fingers are going to bruise her legs, but he looks so beautiful like this. He closes his eyes and groans when he tastes her cum, lapping around her clit and licking up into her, drinking it all down. She thinks she's going to black out.

She tells him as much. He chuckles, which only makes her yelp from the stimulation at her clit as he returns to it, licking in aching circles. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she cries. “Fuck, Javi, I can't… Feels too good… Fuck!”

He just keeps working her up until her whole body is trembling, her mind lifting free of its shackles once again as she crashes into Earth like a meteor, no more body, no more bed. She floats.

She knows he's making up for the two days they barely spoke, but she can't be bothered to call him on it when she lost her ability to prod around her own brain hours ago.

To his credit, he's always loved eating her out. It's like a sport for him, an addiction. He loves making her squirm, holding her by the thighs while he sends her head soaring into space. He loves tasting her, soaking his face with her, making her cry and moan until her throat rips raw. He's obsessed with her, wants to be possessed by her. And he's so hard he's leaking a constant stream on the sheets, grinding into the mattress when it gets too agonising. This is about her.

It doesn't stop the wet, hot sensation underneath him as he sucks her clit into his mouth, a familiar shuddering crash knocking down each knob of his spine. He grunts, hips jerking into the bed.

She comes for a sixth time before she taps him frantically on the hand and he lifts his head, resting his cheek on her thigh. Her eyes are staring up at the ceiling, her mouth open, chest heaving. She's sweating and her hair is a halo around her head. She's a vision.

He shifts, crawling up the bed and rolling them over so she's on top of him, knowing she can barely support her own head. She hums on his chest but frowns when she wiggles her hips up against his.

“You…”

“Yeah.” He pulls her in and kisses her hard, helping her centre herself in the world again.

He came on the bed sheets. Without her touching him.

“Mi vaquero,” she mumbles, kissing all over his face, her lips grazing every square inch from his jaw to his temples. “So good to me.”

He hushes her at that, grabbing her jaw and kissing her on the mouth again. He doesn't want to hear that. He's been terrible, fucking awful to her. But she's different this morning, already visibility lighter as she chirps about the bedroom, pulling on a sundress. He's old enough that his refractory period isn't what it was as a teenager, but his cock is already growing interested again as he watches her move about, her ass a beautiful sight in that dress. When she walks close to the bed, he pulls her back down on top of him.

“I’m already late!” she laughs, playfully smacking his chest. He rolls over and pins her down, naked atop her. “Aye, viejo. You’ll hurt your back.”

“Don’t give a shit,” he murmurs, kissing down her jaw, throat, and collarbones with sloppy caresses of his tongue. “My fucking beautiful girl.”

She shrieks as his hands leave her wrists to drag down her waist. “Tickles!” She tangles her fingers in his hair and lifts his head up, grinning down at him with flushed cheeks. “Honey, if we don't get up now, we're not getting up at all.”

“Mmm.” He sinks his teeth playfully into her throat.

“Vampiro,” she huffs, but he can feel her getting worked up, rolling her hips against his naked cock even though she’s already come six times. They roll again, and she's on top. A soft growl sounds through his throat when he sees his precum stain the front of her dress. The friction is fucking good. Javier’s mouth falls open and he loses his grip on her involuntarily when she pulls down the straps of her dress and exposes her breasts to him while she rides. “You can come like this, can’t you?” she pants, grinding against him.

He’s nodding frantically, but he can’t even hold his head up once she starts rolling her hips harder. “Sh—shit,” he whispers, reaching out for her hips to help her along. She whimpers. “Fuck, baby. Fuck, keep going. So good. Shit, sweetheart…”

Her head falls back against her shoulders, and he admires the smooth column of her throat as her mouth drops open and she cries out. Freezing on his cock, her whole body shudders, and she comes. “That’s it,” he bites out, “take what you need, amor.”

She’s grinding on him again before she comes down all the way, planting her hands on his chest. It doesn’t take long for him to come, too, baring his teeth and barely choking out, “Coming.”

She slides down his body and takes his cock in her hand, pumping until he begins to spurt his cum over his chest. He slams his hand down on the mattress and twists the sheets in his hand, eyes squeezing shut. They fly open immediately once he feels her hot mouth wrap around his cock and take the last few spurts down her throat. The sight alone prolongs his orgasm until his cum spills out of her mouth, dribbling down her chin. She swipes it up with her thumb and swallows it all down. Even softening, his cock still twitches in her hand.

He swallows. “Christ.” His voice is raw. “I’m late.”

“We were late when you made me come the fourth time.” She kisses his cheek. “C’mon, viejo. Drive me to work—I’ll bring you something to eat on my break.”

She does. Javier is still looking down at his typewriter when Murphy cheers, lifting his coffee mug into the air. He’s on the phone. “Empanadas! Can I have some, sweetheart?”

Javier rips the receiver out of his hand. “Baby, why'd you call Steve instead of me?”

“You weren't answering your phone,” she says sweetly.

“My phone hasn't rung.”

“Maybe I just wanted to bug you.” She’s grinning wickedly from the sound of her voice. “I’m talking with Penny if you wanna see me.”

He really does. He tosses the receiver back at Murphy, who keeps on talking to her while Javier makes his way downstairs to the front desk. She's in a different outfit because he stained her dress when he finished on it: a pair of jeans that show off her ass in a way that makes his eye twitch and one of his polos, tucked into her waistband. He's surprised he manages to refrain from pouncing on her like a cat when he reaches her.

“Mi amor,” he whispers in her ear. “Long time, no see.”

She bites her lip, still holding the phone to her other ear. “Yeah, Steve. I’ll tell him. And you're both invited to dinner Saturday night. Yeah. No, no, don't worry about it. Yeah. Bye, Steve. Say hi to Connie for me.”

Javier holds her around the waist when he greets Penny, pushing his sunglasses down his nose and winking. The middle-aged receptionist blushes at him like she always does. His girl kisses him on the cheek and hands back the receiver to Penny. “Thank you, honey,” says the receptionist.

She hands Javier a paper bag that's warm to the touch. “Yeah,” he says lowly, kissing her because he can, “thank you, honey.”

She looks up at him with doe’s eyes. “I’ve got an hour.”

That's what he likes to hear. Javier takes her hand and guides her upstairs, hoping to find an empty conference room for the pair of them to eat away from prying eyes.

“Aren't you two a pair.”

Bill Stechner wanders out of the men’s bathroom and blocks their path down the hallway. She curls up close to Javier and wraps her hand around his arm. He's told her about this asshole. “Stechner. I've got lunch to eat.”

He doesn't budge. “So this is the infamous Señora Peña. Well, not yet, but I’m rooting for you. If only he would just get on with it, right?” His good-natured smile has a predatory gleam to it.

She smiles politely. “Mr. Stechner.”

No Nice to meet you, the way she usually greets people. The man doesn’t look at Javier, keeping his eyes on his girl instead; it’s enough to heat up Javier’s blood a couple degrees. “I’d like a word, Mr. Peña,” he says.

“Told you,” he bites out. “Busy.”

“Wasn’t a request. The pretty lady can manage five minutes alone, right?”

Javier feels his eye twitch.

“Honey,” she says, “I think I’d like a kiss.”

And she pulls Javier down by the back of his neck, kissing him hard enough to bruise, right in front of Stechner. She pulls the sunglasses off his nose while their mouths are connected and places them atop her own head. Lost in the addictive sweetness that surrounds her at all times, Javier slants his mouth over hers and slips his tongue past her teeth. It takes an obnoxiously loud cough from Stechner for her to break away, smiling up at him like she's innocent, like she didn't ride the soul out of Javier this morning.

“Your word with my husband can wait,” she tells Stechner. “I’m here on my lunch. Have a nice day, Mr. Stechner.”

She slips by him as he watches her with a vaguely amused sneer. Javier follows her, but Stechner claps him on the shoulder. “Good woman,” he says quietly. “Knows what's best for you. I’ll see you in my office when she's gone, yeah?” He walks down the hallway in the opposite direction, repeating the words “good woman” under his breath.

Javier scoops up her hand and takes her into the closest empty conference room he can find. “Javi,” she says softly, “your nostrils are flaring.”

“Yeah.” He barely gets the word out before he's on her mouth again, a bruising kiss that lets him push all his need, all his desperation and tension, into her lungs. He wants to consume her. His brave, strong girl. The whirlwind. The calm when the gale dies down. She's everything, and he kisses her like it.

He's devouring her, messy, sucking on her tongue and slipping his hands underneath her shirt. She stumbles against the table and he lifts her up onto it, staggering himself as he tries to find something to hold onto and chooses her instead: her face, her throat, her hips.

He only pulls away because she's panting, desperate to suck in air, and he won't have her struggling for breath just yet. “Shit,” she gasps, prodding her lips with her finger. “Shit, honey, I didn't know you liked other people watching us that much.”

He nudges his nose against her cheek. He can't move away from her; he just keeps shifting closer, one leg between both of hers, his torso flush to her chest. He wants to become part of her. “So fucking good,” he mutters. “Making him look like an idiot. Showing him who I fuckin' belong to.”

“Mmm.” She drags her nails up the base of his neck and he bares his teeth against her skin. “You like that, vaquero? Kissing me in front of that asshole?”

He shifts his hands to her thighs just so he can squeeze her. “Yeah, I do. Most beautiful fucking thing I’ve ever seen. And all mine.”

“Siempre, Javier,” she breathes into his cheek.

He grins, biting her jaw. “Don't think I didn't catch that, baby.”

“Catch what?” she asks coyly, sending blood rushing to his cock.

“You called me your husband.”

“Did I?” She shrugs, wiggling against him and pulling him closer, somehow. “Oh, well. Felt like the right thing to say.”

He cannot cope with the amount of love inside him. It breaks him in two, cleaves him open at the chest and pulls his beating heart right out of it for her to see. To touch and hold and keep forever. He doesn't know how to tell her she owns the part of him that keeps him alive, so he kisses her again. “Mi amor,” he mumbles. “Mi esposa. Gonna marry you and keep you with me forever. Everyone’s gonna fuckin’ know it's you, baby.”

She giggles, a bit drunk from kissing him and bruising her lips. “Better work on that proposal, then, cowboy. My hour’s running out.”

“Not here,” he says. “I’m gonna do it properly. Romance you.”

She lifts a brow and places a hand on his chest. “Can’t do that on an empty stomach. Eat.”

They sit next to one another at the table and dig into her empanadas like they've never eaten a day in their lives. It feels true, given they missed breakfast to fuck. Her feet up on his lap, he rubs the bone of her ankle with his thumb. “He's a dick,” she says out of the blue. “He's entitled and he's dangerous. He's got too much power over you, Javi.”

He squeezes her ankle. “So do you, baby, but you don't see me complaining.”

She gives him a hard look. “I don't have anything to do with your job. He does.”

They can’t talk about Los Pepes here, not with the chance someone could overhear. But he knows her code, the way she knows his. Javier cups her cheek and traces her bottom lip with his thumb. “Wanna know what I know?” She nods, looking up at him with her softened, buttery eyes, the eyes that make his brain spout any nonsense as long as it makes her happy. “I know I don’t have shit if I don’t have you.”

She bites her lip to stop her smile. “Don’t let any of those guys out there hear you say that.”

“Those guys…” He leans forward slowly only to grab her thigh and pull her onto his lap. “… don’t have you. Don’t know how fuckin’ crazy you make a man.”

She hums, grasping his jaw in her hand. “Just one man.”

It makes him feel manic, primal, his head buzzing with desire. His blood is hot and his fingers squeeze her thighs hard enough to leave indents. He shifts to wrap his arm around her waist possessively. All of him feels possessive—he’s crawling with the itch to keep her close to him, bury himself in her, never let the world touch her the way it has before.

He breathes into her neck like it’s oxygen and he’s drowning. “Need to… Fuck, need…”

“Javi,” she says gently, her touch a cooling balm to his heated skin as she slips her hands under the collar of his shirt and presses down on his shoulders. It grounds him here, with her. “I need it, too, Javi. Need you all the time. But I have to go back to work.”

It’s a perfectly reasonable excuse. Her hour’s almost up. So he reacts reasonably: he shoves his face into her hair and huffs like a grumpy old dog. She laughs, exasperated. “Drive me back.”

“It’s a block away, baby.” He’s still grumbling against her, the need for her so intense he refuses to peel himself away.

She lifts a brow at him like she can’t believe he would dare to refuse her offer. “Drive me back,” she says again, “and take the long way around.”

He perks up, the dog who knows he’s going to the park. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says, sliding off him and offering her hand. “I forgot to wear panties.”

He’s certain every single person in the building knows why they’re leaving together, but he doesn’t give a shit. He keeps his hand on her lower back and when they find a side street, he spreads her across the bench of his truck and buries his cock deep inside her.

“Javi, your dad’s on the phone.”

He walks out of the shower with his hair still damp and shakes it over her when he meets her at the table. She yelps, smacking him on the shoulder. He just gets onto his knees so he’s at eye-level with her tits, on display in her unbuttoned blouse, and she has to grab hold of his hair to keep him away from them.

“No, Chucho, he’s just got out of the shower. Of course he wants to talk to you!” She grins into the receiver. “No, he hasn’t done it yet. Of course I’m going to say yes; él es el amor de mi vida.” She looks down at him and winks. “I’ll put him on for you.”

He sits his ass on the floor so he can rest his cheek on her inner thigh, happily sandwiched between her legs and deliciously close to her lacy panties. “Hi, Pop,” he says, grabbing a cigarette off the table while he wedges the phone between his ear and her thigh, close to purring with the way she brushes through his hair with her fingers.

“Tu amor sounds more and more beautiful every time I talk to her,” says Chucho. “It’s a shame I barely know what she looks like.”

His father has been pressing Javier like an embosser on paper to take a break, visit him in Laredo. He wants to meet his future daughter-in-law so badly he keeps saying it’ll kill him. Javier lights his cigarette. “Pop—”

“There's plenty of room on the ranch,” he cuts in. “I’ve got the guest room made up.”

Javier lazily meets his girl’s eye. Guest room, he mouths. She bites down on her lip and shimmies a bit, her tits shaking against the silk of her shirt. He elects not to look away. “Yeah, Pop,” he says vaguely. “We're gonna visit. Make a vacation out of it.”

She leans down to speak into the receiver. “Make sure you put him to work, Mr. Peña.”

Javier’s too busy taking the opportunity to take a nipple between his teeth to retort. She huffs, smacking him gently upside the head. “Why do you think I invite him?” says Chucho.

Javier asks about the calves and the crops (all thriving), and he asks how Chucho’s back is doing (about the same; back problems run in the family). She stands to make dinner while they're chatting about Laredo (the sheriff’s department's latest drug bust, the gossip about Chucho’s next-door neighbour a mile down the road and his latest affair). Javier follows her into the kitchen like a puppy, tucking the phone between his cheek and shoulder while he chops tomatoes. He’ll hand the phone to her when his father wants to talk to her, which is most of the time.

What's for dinner, mija? How’s your mother doing? Do you know how to milk a cow?

Javier smiles. They've been making friends with one another since the first time Chucho asked him to put her on the phone. She’s it for me, Pop.

Gonna give me grandkids?

He’ll just laugh and say, Talk to you next week.

It's not that they haven't talked about it. They have—at length. But if they're going to try, it won't be while he's working against the most dangerous people in Colombia.

When he sets down the phone, she slides her hand across his stomach. “That shirt,” she mutters.

He looks down at her, lifting his brow. “This shirt,” he prompts.

She slides her other hand up his arm, a ghost of a touch, and it's enough to send blood to his interested cock. It doesn't take much from her. “So sexy,” she hums, fisting the yellow polo by the collar.

She has a unique appreciation for his wardrobe. Always says he's stuck in the ‘70s, that he owns one too many loud patterns for his own good, that he sticks out in his tight jeans. But Christ, she likes it. “Sure it's not the body, baby?” he asks, low and deep, abandoning the cutting board to slide his hands beneath her silk blouse and pull her mostly naked body to him. “Worked hard for it. Running over rooftops all day.”

“Oh, it's the body, all right.” She lifts up the hem of his shirt. “You’re so handsome. So strong. All mine.”

He's putty in her hands when she tells him he's handsome. She can shower him with affection and words and he'll melt, butter, pliable as she has her way with him. He likes it: knowing she sees him as strong, good, capable. Sees him as someone she wants to bee seen with all the time.

And right now, she needs it. He's more than willing to give. She's hands and lips, feverish in the way she pulls his shirt up over his head and shucks her own blouse off. He has to brace his hands on the counter just so he doesn't keel over from the blood leaving his brain when she begins to kiss, lick, nibble all over. From his neck to his chest, all the way down to his stomach until she’s licking his aching hardness over his jeans. “Fuck,” he hisses, slamming his palm down on the countertop. He won't guide her. He wants her to take him the way she wants. But even like this, he's leaking, making a mess of himself. He goes white-blind for a moment when she takes his zipper between her teeth and tugs it down.

“Jesus,” he groans to himself. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

He tries not to let his eyes cross. He really does. But she takes him into her wet, hot mouth after shucking his pants down his thighs like they owe her money. And he chokes on his own tongue with how fucking good it feels, his hips stuttering and his hands white-knuckling the counter.

She slides her tongue around his head while she takes him down to her throat, licking along his veins and swallowing around his length. She sucks his cock as if she needs it to survive, and he just might die.

Her hands caress his thighs as she moans around him, and then they migrate to his balls, reaching around to squeeze his ass just because she loves to, because she knows he’ll let her do anything when he’s this far gone. His head is fuzzy and he can't form a sentence; he just curses and says her name and curses some more. She keeps her eyes on him so he keeps his on her, and they become the only two people in the world.

His hearing comes back in a rush, like emerging from underwater, when she takes him down to the base, her nose brushing the hairs at the base of his cock, and chokes in her excitement to swallow, to make him feel good.

The word good isn't in his vocabulary when it comes to this. This is ecstasy. Javier shuts his eyes and even stumbles a little when he comes. She holds onto his thighs, keeping her mouth locked around him as he spurts every drop of his cum inside her. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Mmmhmm,” she groans, eyes watery, mascara dribbling black tears down her cheeks. He reaches out to tangle his fingers in her hair just to hold onto something so he doesn't fall over. He just keeps coming until her cheeks expand and she pulls off; the last of his cum drips out onto her bruised lips.

He wants to drop to his knees and propose right then and there when she opens her mouth to show the mess he made of her mouth, clearly awaiting his instructions. He collects himself enough to do two things: firstly, he remembers he cannot propose to her while her mouth is full of cum; second, he croaks out a barely-audible “Swallow.” She does.

“Fucking…” He squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again, hoping to clear his vision. “Fucking… baby, I—”

She shakes her head and kisses his softening cock gently. It makes him twitch, but he's too spent to go again. “I know,” she says, her voice a bit raspy and ruined. She leans her head against his thigh and sighs happily.

He helps her to her feet, tucks himself back into his jeans, and kisses her hard. He pants against her cheek when he's done nibbling at her lips. “What did I do to deserve that?”

“So handsome,” she whispers, like it's a sufficient answer for her. “Just love you so much.”

“You're so”—he kisses a path along her cheek to her jaw—“fucking”—he bites down on the curve of her throat—“good to me. So good to me. Fuckin’ love you, mi alma.”

Usually, she's a giggling mess when he bites her like this. Mi vampiro, she'll say, indulging him with a hand at the back of his head. Now, she moans, body curving up against him. “Javi,” she breathes out. “Want you to watch me.”

“Shit. Shit, honey, is it my fuckin’ birthday?” He slips his hand around her waist, but she pulls back and smiles wickedly.

“You can't touch.”

And there's the kicker.

He pouts down at her, and she presses her fingers to his lips before she slides them down her body, sweet and slow. It's rare they make dinner on time during nights like these. Tonight is no exception.

When Javier proposes, it's private.

He does it in their apartment because she doesn't like spectacles. Neither does he. It's just for them: the dinner he cooks, three courses he only knows how to perfect by being with her; the lilies he bought in bulk just to spread them around the place because she loves them so much; the way he tells her to close her eyes and she does, even though she's got a giddy grin on her face and knows what he's up to.

She opens them and begins to cry nonetheless, seeing him on one knee at her feet.

From the moment he walked into the café, he fell in love with her. He gained a friend and a partner in that little window of time that was only for them. He trusted her before he trusted himself. He feels like a teenager when he's with her, so excited to be in her company and giddy with the simplest touch; and he feels more like an adult than he ever has, knowing she’s the most important part of his life and he needs to cherish her, protect her. He loves her smile and her laugh. Her voice. Her eyes. Her kindness and her patience. Her smart mouth. The way she knows him long before he's figured it out himself. The way she can calm the storm in him with a whisper and a touch. He's difficult and grumpy, and she chooses him every time. He loves her so much it hurts.

He tells her all of this. And then he asks her if she'll marry him, since it's customary. Even though they’ve been organising their documents and ensuring everything is in order for months, he still asks. She deserves to hear him ask.

She says yes.

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storiesbyrhi · 7 months

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Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Before death. 3170 words.

1986

Led Zeppelin.

Talking Heads.

Public Enemy.

The Grateful Dead.

Brian Eno.

The Clash.

Metallica.

New Order.

N.W.A.

The Cure.

Tori Amos.

Black Sabbath.

Cat Stevens.

Patti Smith.

Fleetwood Mac.

There were a lot of cassettes in your car. Eddie looked through them with interest. Some were store bought, their original sleeves intact, and some were mix tapes you’d made yourself.

“This is the more modern stuff. It’s easy to fall behind when you live so many lifetimes. So, I try to update what I’m listening to every decade. This is mostly 1970s and 80s,” you told him.

“Where shall we begin?”

“With hair like yours… Metallica?”

Key turned in the ignition, you ran the car and pushed the cassette into the player. Fight Fire with Fire began, the first few bars melodic and calm. Then, it kicked in. Eddie flinched at the noise, surprised but not alarmed.

He leaned forward, like he was trying to decode something hidden deep within the music. Slowly, a wide grin crept across his face. He snapped to face you. “What is this?” he demanded in pure delight.

“This is music,” you replied with a casual shrug. “Specifically, this type is called metal,”

“I like it.”

Eddie looked like he was going to cry when For Whom the Bells Tolls played. Like the guitar riff and gothic sound effects were going to heal the undead body he lived in. Fade to Black made the vampire melt into his seat. He laughed then held a hand out to you. You took it, letting him thread his fingers through yours.

“I do not know what happened to me. But if it was the only path I could have taken to being here in this… car… with you and this music, then I am glad I took it,” Eddie said, closing his eyes before you could respond with expression or word.

You watched him for a moment. Something about him like this – relaxed, weird, beautiful – made you want to squeeze him. Dig your nails in. Bite to test for firmness. It was muscle memory, you realised. Your mind didn’t know Eddie, didn’t remember him, but your body acted as though she’d been by his side forever. It was too easy.

“Since we’re already in the car, should we go get you some more appropriate clothes? Maybe some other supplies too?”

One of the large neighbouring towns had a Walmart that had just been built, and it boasted 24/7 opening hours.

Eddie opened his eyes and cocked his head. “Little witch, are you attempting to court me?”

You laughed. “Are you asking me if I’m asking you on a date?”

“A date,” Eddie repeated. He was a quick study. “Little witch, are you asking me on a date?”

He expected you to blush or groan with denial. The anticipation of your reaction was written all over his face. You’d not play into his trap so easily. Instead, you shrugged and casually replied, “What if I am?”

Eddie couldn’t control his face entirely; his eyebrows shot up and he smiled. “Then ask,”

“Eddie the unhexed, my mortal enemy, will you accompany me on a date to Walmart?”

…

1587

At the age of twenty, Edward felt old. Although he had only graduated from his teenage years days earlier, as he stood on The Lion’s deck face to face with the Atlantic Ocean, he was weary.

His mother had died in childbirth, which was not uncommon. The world hadn’t begun to record statistics on such occurrences, but all things averaged, eighteen of every hundred women would perish before the birth day of their baby was done. Likely, it was much more.

Edward’s father looked at him like he was the murder weapon of his wife, life-taking and constantly reflecting a bloody image back at him. He treated his son worse. Not as a loaded pistol or sharpened axe, but as a contagion. The plague or measles. Typhoid or smallpox. Something that elicited disgust, a disease to rid himself of at the very first chance.

Edward was sold to a farmer at age seven, destined to a life of hard labour and loneliness.

However, Edward was a fighter. He fought the conditions of his gory birth. The miserable childhood. And the farmer’s distrust of him around his daughter, Lizzy.

He didn’t have eyes for Lizzy. He kept his head down, tended to the animals, worked the land, and waited to be released from his workman’s contract. For eleven years, the farmer underfed Edward. He staved off malnutrition through the kindness of the farmer’s wife, the only person the farmer treated worse than Edward.

He was beaten and broken in, the subject of the farmer’s displaced rage at not fathering any sons of his own.

On the morning of his eighteenth birthday, Edward stood at his post expectedly. The contract was done. He had earned his freedom. Perhaps there would be an offer of legitimate farm work, which Edward would decline regardless. Perhaps a parting gift of a letter of recommendation. Perhaps simply a nod of acknowledgment. But nothing came.

He knew better than to go inside the family house, but by mid-morning, Edward couldn’t shake the feeling something was wrong. Slowly, quietly, he crept in. Lizzy had grown up and left the farm, but there still should have been the noise of the wife.

The quiet was worse in some rooms than others. Edward followed the silence to the study.

The farmer was sitting in the corner of the room, curled up as if he weren’t the God-fearing iron-fisted master of the house. His rifle was held under his chin, ready for suicide.

The wife was sprawled out on the floor, eyes open and fixed on the ceiling, bleeding from somewhere Edward could not immediately see.

“Is she dead?” the farmer asked.

Edward didn’t move.

“This is your fault, boy… Look what you made me do.”

It didn’t matter that it wasn’t Edward’s fault. A second dead mother would haunt him.

The gun went off, Edward flinched, half expecting to feel the bullet pierce through his body. His eyes were screwed shut and he was terrified to open them. He stood in the void of unknown for an entire minute. He counted the seconds in his head, one… two…, while he tried to imagine how he could have been the catalyst for the violence.

The sight of the farmer, face torn off and entirely limp, was seared onto the lens’ of Edward’s eyes forever.

On the desk was the contract signed when he was seven. His father’s signature had faded, the sign of cheap ink. Other documents were strewn around, including some that indicated to Edward that it was a possibility the farmer had no intention of honouring the contract’s end.

Among the papers, Edward found the key to the safe that was hidden beneath the staircase. Inside was what he considered to be a small fortune, but to the farmer it was pocket money. Edward took the cash, knowing he was incriminating himself, and returned to his post. He slung his one bag over his shoulder, took a horse, and never returned.

For days, weeks, and months after, Edward sat on the cusp of calm, always expecting to be hunted down and hung for a double murder. After a year, he slipped from the cusp and into a sense of normalcy.

Edward found work in Plymouth, the port city home to enough taverns and underground establishments that he could choose between the kitchens or the brawling rings. He could butcher a pig as easily as he could take a punch. Ultimately, he earned the most when he picked up the lute and made music.

Despite landing on his feet, Edward lived in solitude, afraid that any woman he loved would meet an early death, and any man he trusted would turn on him for no reason. He went by the name Wayne, simultaneously distancing himself from his past while tying himself to it. Edward had only met his Uncle Wayne once. He had come for him when he was four, claiming that he could care better for his sister’s son than Edward’s father ever could.

When Edward was free from the farm, he considered trying to find Uncle Wayne. His father has ensured he knew nothing of the man though. He wouldn’t have known where to begin. Taking his name was all he could do.

For two years, Edward eavesdropped on the comings and goings of sailors, pirates, and kingsmen. In June of 1586, he heard of the return of ships from somewhere over the sea. They had run out of provisions. The attempt to colonise had been a failure. Next year. That’s what he had heard. Next year, they’d try again.

Edward felt, for the first time in his entire life, that he knew where he should go. The Lion’s manifest read Wayne Munson, birth 1567, and set sale on May 8 1587 with Governor White at the helm.

Sea travel was horrific. Edward was violently ill with motion sickness, his skin itched as the salt water dried on him, and he spent more time picking splinters out from under his nails than doing almost anything else. When, after two and a half months at sea, The Lion dropped anchor on the east coast of what would be come to known as North America, Edward could have kissed the earth. However, he was trying to maintain a low profile.

That is exactly how he came to learn that the violence he had been running from was an unstoppable force. In all his hope, Edward had underestimated the British’s capacity for it. When weapons were thrust into his hands at the turning of a war against the Native people of the land, Edward swallowed the stomach bile that had burst its way up into his mouth.

His mother’s death weighed heavily on him. The farmer’s wife too. Edward wasn’t a passivist, he had earned coin by beating men bloody, but he was not a killer. Certainly, he would not unjustly kill.

He thought maybe he could lie to the kingsmen, weave a story of priesthood. Here, in this new place, he would bring the holy word of God. A task the Queen herself would find more than noble. A task that could not begin with red on his ledger.

Alas, a colony of only a hundred would rely on each other. He had not the economic or social currency to show weakness. So, he fought.

Edward volunteered for any role that would take him out of the offensive lines. He went on reconnaissance trips and kept watch as others slept. He learned how to offer the most basic of medical aid, and how to sneak away from action without being missed.

It was on one of these secret trips that Edward came across a Native American who looked equally as surprised to see him. Edward had wandered off into the woodland that surrounded the colony, his weapon slung lazily over his shoulder, and his attention on the strange mushrooms growing along the forest floor.

The two men saw each other at the same time and froze in almost mirror positions.

Edward watched the man’s eyes flick to the weapon, then back to his face. He could tell he was reading him. Assessing what kind of White man Edward was. Slowly, Edward opened his hands and held them up, palms showing in a sign of submission.

“Peace,” Edward said softly.

The man took a step forward, a steely expression held firm. Edward tried not to flinch, instead offering a nod. The man came closer and closer until he could really see him. Neither of them wanted to cause the other harm. Edward knew that his individual intentions were irrelevant. He was part of a brutal regime.

In the distance, a gunshot echoed, startling both men. They ran in opposite directions, like two same-sided magnets repelling apart.

Edward told nobody of the encounter.

Just over a month later, the colonists were in a tense sort of truce with the Native Americans, but their resources were diminishing faster than they could be regenerated. They moved up the coast while the British fleet prepared to leave for England.

“If this is to be a true settlement, not a failure like Lane’s, we need provisions,” Edward listened to one of the colonists beg Governor White. It was a town meeting of sorts. “Return home. Tell them it was a mistake to come without a proper show of force. We need help.”

The fleet disappeared over the horizon near the end of August.

Within days, the knocking began.

Knock, knock.

When the sun set, a low mist would bleed out from the woodland. It came over the ocean, crossing the beach to get to the colony. Somewhere deep within it, something knocked twice, as if at a door asking for entry. They knocked on the hour, every hour until sunrise.

Knock, knock.

At first, the colony responded with a British stiff upper lip. They ignored it. They swallowed their fear. Then, when the cause for concern couldn’t be contained, they blamed the Native Americans. Except, it wasn’t how the Native Americans operated, and they hadn’t seen anyone but their own since the ships left.

Paranoia and dread set in. Superstition followed.

“What ungodly force has come for us?”

“Could it be the witches? They’re all over this land, you know!”

Edward listened to the unraveling of the people around him, but never offered his own theories or fears. Instead, one night, when the mist came in and the colony locked itself away, Edward found higher ground and watched. The mist was alive. There was simply no other conclusion to draw. It moved too quickly and appeared to have no relationship with the weather. It had a purpose. It licked around the settlement like it was hunting for something. Someone. Anyone.

Knock, knock.

Come morning, the colony’s livestock were slaughtered. Edward had stayed up all night, but he hadn’t seen it happen. There had been no devils in the mist.

Knock, knock.

The children cried and the women kept themselves busy with work. The men burned the animals’ bodies, too afraid to eat any of the meat.

Knock, knock.

The next night, Edward took his perch again. And the next. And the next. Until, a week later, they came from the darkness.

He knew that they wanted to be seen. They knocked on doors, rapped knuckles on axes left in stumps. They knocked on trees and rocks, riding the fog in.

Edward saw them and there was nothing to be done about that. He saw their human forms wear human clothes but make inhuman movements. He saw them dancing, dragging animal carcasses behind them like royal capes. He saw them, and they saw him.

The colony was ripped apart. Men, women, and children all treated with equal brutality. Edward stayed positioned in his higher ground perch, witnessing evil while he held his breath and tried not to scream. Bodies limp like rag dolls. Blood drip drip dripping into buckets when neighbours were hung from trees. Horror. Carnage. Damnation.

It almost felt like mercy, Edward thought, the moment the warmth bloomed across his neck and down his chest. He stumbled as he stood from his hiding spot. The vampire was watching him curiously. Edward held a useless hand over the bite. It was mercy that he hadn’t seen the monster coming. He hadn’t felt the pain of the injury. He could just die, easily, simply, finally.

The vampire’s face broke out into a gleeful smile, its teeth off-white and sharp.

“Filius,” it hissed. Son.

The vampires had come for misery, mostly, but they had been watching the colony. They had watched the violence leveled at the Native Americans. They picked out their favourites, like children at a petting zoo. Favourites would be turned.

Edward had never been anyone’s favourite anything, until then.

When he dropped to his knees, the vampire was crouching before him. It reached out and patted Edward, watching his skin’s colour fade. Then, it pushed him onto the ground, leering over him.

Edward could feel himself dying. It was a strange sort of fading, unlike falling asleep, and nothing like he’d have expected. His senses were somehow still sharp. The sounds of the colony being bled and burnt. The smell of death and fire. He could see it all then, when the vampire bit down hard on its own wrist, tearing a gaping wound.

“Pótó,” it said to him.

Edward didn’t understand Latin, but he knew what it was saying. Drink. He held his lips together tightly. He would not follow at the heels of a monster. Whatever it wanted with him, he would not abide.

At first, Edward’s resistance amused the vampire. It let its blood drip and dribble onto his face. It grew bored quickly, clutching Edward’s head in its hands, its nails digging in, ready to pry his jaw open.

It was a blur. A weapon. Not enough to kill a vampire, but enough to send it tumbling away from Edward’s body. He felt strong arms wrap under him, pulling him up. Someone was dragging him away, yelling in a language he didn’t understand. There was fire, arrows dipped in it. Then, there was blackness.

Edward dreamed one last time.

The mist, it had still set itself upon the colony, but it wasn’t vampires. It was the witches. They looked like his mother and the farmer’s wife. Like the girl who could carry more pints at once than anyone else in the bar. Like the kid who lived on the streets that Edward would spare more money for than he could really afford.

The witches came with spells to heal and potions that tasted like warm honey, and reminded him of something he couldn’t place. They told stories to the children and baked enchanted bread with the women. For the men, there was nothing, but they watched from the sidelines with humility.

When Edward woke, the magic was gone.

He roared in pain, shooting up and panicking when his body was entirely out of his control, raging in agony, thrashing. Hands held him down, a voice doing its best to soothe him. It wasn’t enough.

Edward’s body felt hollow, like all his organs had shrivelled up, the blood lost through the septic wound in his neck. And, like any bones left inside him had shrunk too, turned brittle and too small to let him move as he wished. His flesh burned as if he’d been roasted on a spit. Everything was pain. There was nothing else.

It took only minutes for Edward to collapse again. He was vaguely aware of his own consciousness. Vaguely able to tell he was in some sort of cave or tree hollow. Something naturally formed and sheltered. Vaguely aware of a face he recognised hovering above him. As hands tried to stop the bleeding, Edward’s eyes closed.

End Note: For the anon that suggested it - 1986 Eddie listening to metal for the first time.

A huge thank you to @jo-harrington, who models exactly what it means to be a thoughtful writer. You help me navigate the writing world.

So... Did you ever think you'd get an Eddie origin story?

Fic Taglist: @paranoidmunson @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

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#Mine #Burning Yarrow #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson x You #Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson/You #Eddie Munson/Reader #Vampire!Eddie Munson #Witch!Reader

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whatawonderfulexistence--blog · 1 year

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Mistletoe Mini One Shots!

Primo:

Primo, surprisingly, was all about kissing you under the mistletoe. He would always joke about how he was an old man now, his days of being rambunctious and partaking in such a childish activity we're far behind him. That being said, he never missed an opportunity to kiss you. He would grab you by the waist and pull you to him. "Belissima, I hope you know how much I cherish spending the holidays with you." He would always mutter something cute and meaningful to you. Yes, being his Prime Mover meant you had duties that needed to be filled, but to Primo you were so much more than that. You were this man's earth, moon, and stars and he would never let you forget that. You two would exchange hushed I love you's before Primo would capture your lips in a tender kiss, neither of you able to stop the smiles on your face.

Secundo:

Secundo wasn't the most festive person but he was more than willing to participate in something silly if it meant making you happy. "My dove, you've kissed me a thousand times before, what about kissing under a plant makes you so giddy." He would chuckle at your excitement."

What? Do you not want to kiss me?" You would tease, grin growing as you held your hands behind your back and meandered closer to him

He clicks his tongue at you in response, "Tesoro, there is not a single second of the day that I wouldn't want to kiss you." He slides his hand gently across your cheek, thumb softly stroking your skin. "Is this what you want my dove? Would it make you happy for me to kiss you under the mistletoe?" The low, gravelly tone of his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

"Please..." Was the only word you could mumble out. He lets out a small laugh at your doe eyed expression.

"I love you tesoro." Despite Secundo's cold exterior there was an undeniable warmth in his eyes as he looked down at you.

"I love you Papa." You return his warm gaze, both of you leaning in to share a sweet kiss.

Terzo:

You let out an excited shriek as Terzo grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him, peppering your face with kisses. Unlike his brothers he was very enthusiastic about the holiday season. "Cara mia, don't you just love this time of year?" It has become a yearly tradition for you and your husband to get bundled up and go look at the decorations around the Abbey. Unlike his brothers, Terzo was all about celebrating the holidays. He loved cuddling with you by a warm fire, baking Christmas cookies, and going ice skating. Terzo was something straight out of a postcard this time of year, you loved getting to spend the holidays with him. "Is that mistletoe I see?" He asks with a devious smirk. You giggle, holding his face tenderly in your hands.

"Mistletoe or not, just kiss me you idiot." He happily obliges your request, lips crashing into yours in the skilled yet clumsy kiss you had fallen in love with. He holds you by the waist, lifting you from the floor and spinning you around as he kissed me.

"Ti voglio bene cara mia." He holds your chin gently between his fingers, allowing your gazes to linger on each other.

"Ti amo di più Papa." He holds you close, lips catching yours for another kiss.

Copia:

"Amore mio, could you come here for a second?" You rose from your position on the sofa, where you were currently reading a book, to answer Copia's call from your shared bedroom. "Do you remember where we put my Santa costume? I have some gifts to bring down to the children's wing and I'd like to dress up for the occasion." He turns to you with a big smile, one of Copia's favorite traditions for the holidays was to deliver gifts to the children of the Abbey. You join him in the cramped closet to help him look.

"We definitely had a box of Christmas stuff in here somewhere from that photoshoot." You kneel next to him, digging all the way to the back until you find a box labeled X-Mas. You lugged it to the front and tore it open, Copia retrieving the Santa suit from the top. What lay underneath the red sea of fabric is what caught your eye. A single sprig of mistletoe, the same one that you held over your head last year to get him to kiss you for the first time. You lifted the plant gingerly from the box, holding it high over your head and looking up at Copia with wide, innocent eyes. He was saying something about how happy he was to find the suit, pausing halfway through when his eyes landed on you. His hand caressed the side of your face, lifting your chin so your eyes could meet his.

"You never fail to take my breath away with how beautiful you are amore Mio." The compliment came out shaky and nervous, a straight you had grown to find rather adorable from your Papa. You smiled as Copia's lips found yours, your arms wrapping around each other in a tender embrace.

Sodo:

You couldn't stop the laughter that left you as Sodo held up what he was hiding behind his back. A plastic frog with a nerf bullet tied to its back with red ribbon. Sodo looked confused, his eyes switching between you and the frog. "What? Swiss told me to kiss you under the missile toad!"

"Mistletoe babe, the plant." You take his face in your hands, peppering his cheeks with kisses. "You're adorable, you know that?" The Ghoul blushes at your compliment. He suddenly pulls you to him, lips crashing against yours in a clumsy kiss. The missile toad later became an ornament for your Christmas tree.

Aether:

You and Aether had been together for a couple months, your relationship still relatively new. Throughout the entire time you've been dating Aether's always been pretty shy about PDA. When you got caught under the mistletoe with him as you walked the halls of the Abbey he became incredibly flustered. "Aether, you don't have to kiss me if you don't want to." You reassure him, his cheeks burning.

"It's not that I don't want to kiss you baby, it's just… are you sure it's okay for us to kiss in front of all of these people?" He asks you nervously. You take his hand in yours.

"I'm incredibly proud to say you're my boyfriend Aeth. I'm glad all these people will see us together, that way they'll know you're all mine." You nudge him playfully, the two of you sharing a smile.

"I guess one little kiss couldn't hurt." He holds you tightly by your waist, lips joining yours for a short, sweet kiss.

Swiss:

If there was one thing Swiss loves this time of year, it was mistletoe. He almost always had a sprig of the plant somewhere on his person. He'd walk you back to your dorm, having you flustered and giggling the entire way. "It was really nice getting to see you today." He'd grin widely at you, bending at the waist to be eye level with you.

"Careful, you'll have me thinking you have a crush on me or something." You wink at him, a teasing grin playing at your lips.

"Maybe I do have a crush on you or something." He shoots back the same smirk. Retrieving the mistletoe from his back pocket and holding it between your faces. "Wow, would you look at that mistletoe, how did that get there?" He says in a monotone voice. 'Would it be okay if I kissed you?" You nod with a giggle, the two of you slowly leaning in closer to each other. Swiss' lips ghosted over yours, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. After a few mind numbing seconds of him being just out of reach he finally deepened the kiss, gently cupping your face with one of his hands. The two of you separated with a breathless fit of giggles, both of you blushing messes. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

Rain:

Getting caught under the mistletoe with Rain would be an absolute accident. This accident however just happened to coincide with the fact that you had a huge crush on Rain and he had an even bigger crush on you. Neither of you were aware of the other's feelings. But both of you had been dying to know what it would feel like to kiss each other. "Oh, hey, would you look at that?" Rain would clear his throat awkwardly, running the back of his neck.

"Do you want to, um…" you trail off, not brave enough to outright ask him. Rain takes a deep breath, one arm finding its way around your waist as the other slides into your hair. He crushes his lips against yours, causing you to stumble back slightly but he had a firm hold on you. You melted into him, arms sliding up his torso to wrap around his neck.

"That was nice." He mumbles after your kiss broke. Your face was on fire, so was his from the looks of it. "Would you… would you want to go on a date with me sometime?" He asks, finding a sudden boost of confidence. You nod, smile growing on your face.

Mountain:

Your nose was cold as you wandered the garden, side by side with Mountain. You were in the midst of getting the garden set up for the Abbey's annual Yule market. "He said there was a display of kissing balls that needs to be put up."

"Kissing balls?" Mountain questions, the term obviously foreign to him.

"They're balls of mistletoe, two people are supposed to kiss when they are underneath one together." He lets out a solitary hum as the two of you continued on. It didn't take either of you long to find the display that needed to be set up. Mountain helped you hang all the kissing balls once you got to the upper rung of the rack. As you handed him the final one he looked between you and the plant. He places one finger under your chin, tilting your eyes up to meet his. He held the kissing ball in between the two of you, a smile growing on your lips. Your first kiss with Mountain was sweet and gentle, a nice contrast to his huling appearance. "You know, if you wanted to kiss me you could've just asked."

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whatsaninterestingplacethisis · 5 months

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Clingy

Imagine

Nico Hischier x Latina!Reader

Synop: Nico comes home after rough practice, all he wants is to do is never leave your side, literally

a/n: great amount of cheese 🧀 (fluff) + moody Nico + it kills me to use pet-names but it seems fitting for the story + Google translate for German (also I’m aware Swiss german is different but to make translations easier we are going to disregard the inaccuracies)

This one makes me cringe but maybe people will like it

+++

Y/n was almost done with dinner, just in time as Nico gets home. His hockey bag makes a loud thump as it hits the ground.

“Nico is that you?” Y/n asked but it was obvious that it was her man.

He didn’t answer, in fact he would always announce his presence but he was silent. He walks around the corner to enter the kitchen. He eyes his girl and shuffles over to wrap his arms around her waist and hug her.

“Hi” he mumbles into her neck.

“Hi baby” she smiles, Nico being affectionate was to die for, every time.

“Dinner will be done soon.”

“I’m not hungry.” He mumbles again.

“Really? What did you eat?”

He didn’t say anything and buried his head more into her neck.

“Right, that’s what I thought” she laughs

“Cmon baby, I have to finish here and if you shower now the food will be ready.” His beard tickling her neck made her shift under his touch.

He groaned if not whined, “what if you join me in the shower?” He picked his up and looked over her with a smirk.

“Nico, I’m busy and hungry so no.” She stated.

His grip went limp and a dramatic sigh was to be heard.

“I guess you don’t love me.” he slowly shuffles out of the kitchen. He was obviously joking but being a big baby.

Y/n snaps her head at the man child, “is there something wrong?”

He just shrugs with his hands in his hoodie’s pockets.

Y/n examines her boyfriend in concern but also thinks ‘is he serious?’ She turns the burner to low and walks to her man and wraps her arms around his waist and looks up to him.

“How was practice?” She asks softly, examining his eyes.

“I played like shit.” He said defeated with his eyes closed

“Neeks it’s only practice. You know you get better every time you practice.” Y/n tried to comfort the tall man.

“I guess.” He leans down to fully hug y/n because he much craved for it.

She hums in his warmth,

“Baby you’ll feel a lot better if you take a hot shower and have a plate of hot food waiting for you.”

“I only want you right now.”

Gosh he was making this hard. Y/n pulled away to look at him and pulled his back in for a slow kiss.

“I’ll be here after your shower and after you eat.”

“More kisses after too?”

“Always.”

He goes in for what was meant to be a chaste kiss but slowly turns into a quick make out.

“Okay! Go shower, you’re going to burn the food!”

He giggles and finally heads to the bathroom.

~~~

Like promised y/n had his and hers plate ready in no time. She sat in her seat, scrolling on her phone waiting for Nico to join her. Nico with damp hair stepped out the bedroom and promptly sat next to her. He leans over to kiss her,

“Thank you baby”

Before he starts digging in he notices his love’s seat a bit too far away for his liking and with ease slides her chair over closer to him.

“Wow.” She says and he just grins at her like a big goof. Soon enough they fill their bellies with deliciousness.

“Okay now let’s cuddle.” He demands as he picks y/n up and they plop onto the couch.

She shrieks, “Nico we still have to clean up!”

“Nuh-uh, that can wait and you promised.”

Nico is usually the big spoon / the one being snuggled into but he needed the affection tonight so he snuggled into y/n torso and placed her hand on his head to play with his hair. Something he always loved.

“Ich liebe dich.” he says against her body. She recognizes the German because he says it all the time.

“Te amo querido.” He smiles because she says it all the time too.

#nhl imagine #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier x reader #latina!reader #jells🪼imagines

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onedaughterofman · 1 year

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Sun (Papa Emeritus x g/n reader)

Summary: Papa casts away the demons that haunt you tonight and stays with you until sunrise.

Tags: Rated T. Any Papa you want. Mentions of depression and/or non specified mental illness, self-esteem issues and self hate. Hurt/ comfort. A bit of fluff. Papa being soft.

A warm embrace in a cold night, a desperate attempt to soothe the emptiness inside your guts.

You count.

One.

Two.

Three.

Papa doesn't let go. Inhaling deeply, the air burns inside your lungs. It lacks oxygen, substance. No matter how much your abdomen moves with every breath, nothing fills the void.

Not even his warmth, no even his heartbeat in your ears.

"It's starting to get bad again, Papa," you whisper out into the night, a shameful, bitter confession full of fear and anger. Things were getting better, or so you thought. Maybe it was just a lie you repeated to yourself until it was easier to mistake it for the truth. "It's getting really bad again."

The restlessness, the voices inside your mind, the untamed chorus of self depreciation and hate... All is coming back to meet you at the edge of the abyss, ready to push you back at the bottom.

"I know, amore. I know. Mi dispiace tantissimo, dal profondo del mio cuore."

Papa's voice is a whisper, thick accent coating the words. Like a blanket, they weigh over your body, caressing the cold skin. You bury in them, desperately searching for any heat. His heartbeat is loud, so loud. You count.

One. Two. Three.

Four. Five. Six.

Through the window, the first rays of the sun peak over the horizon bathing the grass in a golden shine. The morning dew rises, mist coating the plants and lingering over the earth before dying in the new light.

Papa doesn't let go. Arms tight on your body, he squeezes so hard until, if only for a moment, the emptiness in your ribcage subsides. That chronic black hole between your heart and stomach never dies, thought. It doesn't matter what you feed it, it's always there, walking side by side with you, consuming and devouring your essence to the very core and leaving an empty shell behind.

Nothing kills the emptiness. Friends, family, money, food, TV shows and books, new obsessions... It's all useless, nothing but a temporary distraction that will allow you say you're actually getting better this time.

But it's just that. A lie.

You're a liar.

And still, Papa doesn't let go. Gloved hands caressing your hair, he whispers sweet nothings on your scalp. His warm breath hits your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His voice is soft, matching his words, and he shushes over your babbling with ease.

"No need to apologize. Ti amo così tanto, e ti amerò per sempre, no matter what."

As sweet as they are, those words feel like daggers in your chest. You don't deserve him, a voice says in your mind. He deserves someone better, someone stable, happier.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with me, Papa. I don't deserve you," you confess, like a sin. The tears are salty in your mouth, cold on your cheeks. His gloves clean them off, hot palms cupping your face as his thumbs caress over the bone.

"Ma dai! There's nothing to be sorry about, don't say that. I'm here because I want to be, si? Not even death could do us apart, for I'll call your name forever."

The sun rays sneak through the thick curtains, hitting your eyes and falling on his face. Under the golden shine, Papa looks ethereal, magnificent and full of love and devotion towards you. His fingers linger on your face, holding your head steady as he leans to plant a kiss on your forehead.

"If you can't take a step forward, stay right were you are. I'll meet you anywhere, amore. And when you're ready to continue, I'll gladly be your guide into the dark. You'll never walk alone." Papa continues, words whispered into your hair. His embrace is soft, just like his promises of eternal love.

Breathless, you nod. Closing your eyes, your nails dig on his shoulders and back as he sways his body slowly, rocking you with him.

One step, then two. You count.

One, two, three,four.

Papa's arms sneak down your back, clasp around your waist.

Five, six, seven, eight.

Gradually, through an aching heart and weak limbs, you inhale and let your body go limp on his, allowing him to pull you towards the bed. A heavy blanket is placed around your torso. It smells of incense and perfume, just like him.

Nine.

The sun is high on the sky when you close your eyes, tears coating your lashes. Papa is still whispering in your ears, humming the melody of a long forgotten song.

Ten.

When the night dies, allowing a new day to take over, you drown in his warm embrace. The emptiness is still there, dormant, but at least for today you find solace in the promise of a new sunrise.

PD: I'm going through it and wrote this mostly to myself, but it might bring at least a bit of comfort to some of you too. I hope you are doing well <3

Asks are open if you wanna say something. Sorry if this is not that good, I wrote this in my phone at midnight.

#ghost bc #ghost band #ghost band fanfic #ghost fanfiction #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus ii #papa emeritus i #papa nihil #cardinal copia x reader #papa terzo x reader #my writing #my fic #Fluff #hurt/comfort

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 6 months

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I read Clementine Book Two so that you didn't have to: an in-depth review from a fan of the Telltale games.

Rating: 2.5/5

Spoiler free review: While better than Book One, it’s still not great.

“When is it safe to fall in love? After another brush with death, Clementine and her new friends are rescued by an island community led by an enigmatic doctor named Miss Morro. But, just as Clementine’s scars are finally beginning to heal, the safety of the island is called into question and Olivia reveals a shocking secret. With her world falling apart, Clementine must choose—keep running… or dig in and fight?”

Some things are improved with Book Two, and some things are worse.

The art style looks nicer, particularly with the establishing shots and environments. It’s cleaner without losing the grunge that comes with a post-apocalypse. The characters look better, even though they still sometimes have potato heads. Once again I wish this was done in color because I know how great Tillie Walden is with her coloring, but this is the walking dead and color would be too hopeful, I guess.

The pacing is better, but still not good. I had an issue with pacing in Book One where it dragged, then it gave me whiplash in the last few chapters. It was all over the place. This feels smoother, yet it’s the same issue as before: chapter seven feels like whiplash as everything spirals, then we go into a slower ending.

The dialogue is still awkward in a lot of areas; sometimes it tries to be whimsical, which is something prominent in Tillie Walden’s other works where it lands, but here in this setting it feels cheesy and unnatural.

There are a lot of flaws with Clementine’s writing, though, but that’s a given when you’ve played the games. If you haven’t and you don’t have context for her established character there, then I think this will feel like a natural progression from Book One.

The new cast is likable, but I have a few issues with Miss Morro’s role in the story. Olivia gets some much-needed development, but not all of it necessarily for the best.

The romance between Clementine and Ricca progresses, taking up more of the spotlight than it did in Book One. I went into Book Two with an open mind about clemricca. I can set aside my bias for clouis, I can tuck violentine, gabentine, and any other Clementine ship away to give clemricca a chance to show me it’s a good relationship. Except I don’t think it is. I have a lot of problems with it.

As for the actual plot, I enjoyed the island setting and the community, but it feels like a massively missed opportunity. The ending is… a lot.

My full detailed review is below. I give a quick recap of Book One and spoil everything for Book Two.

A Quick Recap of Book One

You can read my full review of Book One here, but to summarize:

Clementine left Ericson because she was unhappy. She felt like a liability to the group, so she’s traveling on her own when she comes across a group of Amish survivors. While there, a doctor treats her leg and gives her a new prosthetic, as well as some other supplies. Out on the road again, she meets Amos, an Amish boy set out on his Rumspringa to help build houses in the mountain in exchange for a ride in a plane.

Clementine and Amos become buddies by the time they make it to the mountain. There they encounter the twins, Georgia and Olivia, and Ricca, another survivor looking to help with this building project. Clementine decides to stay and help, too, since she’s untrusting of the twins and wants to look after Amos. They build in terrible, snowy conditions. Clementine, Amos, and Ricca form a little friend group all while Amos and Olivia grow close… apparently, it’s barely a thing but it’s important to know.

Clementine and Ricca also grow pretty close. Ricca confides in Clementine that her vision is worsening, and she fears she may not find another pair of glasses that work for her. She has some past trauma with her sight given her brother broke her glasses so that she had no choice but to rely on him, and once she found a new pair, abandoned him to set off on her own.

When Ricca falls into a pit on a trip to get a generator, Clementine reveals that she named her new leg Kenny. Ricca climbs up out of the pit and promises to look for help, but Clementine decides to explore and gets surrounded by walkers. Luckily, she’s saved by a man named Tim, who gets bitten. Tim gives her some encouragement about building a better world, and she leaves before he can turn.

Georgia and Olivia get into a fight, but everything else seems well and good: they got the lift working with the generator, and Olivia tells Clementine that she plans to leave with Amos. But then Georgia pushes Amos off a cliff, and then tries to kill Clementine and Ricca.

From there, everything goes to shit and they manage to overpower Georgia. With her and Amos gone, that leaves Clementine, Ricca, and Olivia as the survivors. They go back to Olivia’s place and it’s revealed that her mom was actually a walker this entire time and building the houses was pretty pointless. Good thing Olivia knows how to fly a plane, though—the three escape via plane. That leads us into Book Two.

The Plot: I'm on an island of grief, surrounded by an ocean of disappointment

Before I dive into individual characters, the romance, and other thoughts, I want to go over everything that actually happens in this book.

We pick up only weeks after the events of Book One; Clementine, Ricca, Olivia, and their cat, Dr Barnwell, survive crashing the plane they took... somehow. From what I can tell, there were no injuries due to that so props to Olivia for not only knowing how to fly a plane, but crash land it good enough to not die.

They've landed somewhere in Canada, which is where Ricca's originally from. The three girls and their cat are on what looks to be a roof, talking about how they need to get to the coast since Clementine feels they're getting closer to something. Then we get the first inklings of romance in the air with Clementine being a little optimistic, and Olivia telling Ricca it's because of her.

This leads into the section of pages that was teased prior to release. They're going over their multiplications when they see a rabbit. Ricca chases after it because of course you want to send the person with the worst eyesight to catch dinner, but I suppose if she didn't go, then Clementine and Olivia couldn't talk about how not okay Olivia is.

Which makes sense; her twin sister, Georgia, murdered Amos, her... boyfriend? Honestly I don't know if we can even call him that, the Amos and Olivia "relationship" in Book One was underdeveloped and practically non-existent... yet it has great consequences that we'll get into... oh boy, will we get into it, ugh.

But Olivia's feeling like the screw up of the group; she's worried that she'll ruin Clementine's plans; "I'm bad luck. I'll... just hold you two back." / "Georgia and Amos are dead. I keep waiting for them to be next to me when I wake up, but every morning they're not there. There's no place in the world that will make that feel okay."

Clementine has no time to comfort her as Ricca's lost the rabbit to a herd of walkers that chases them into this little shack. They grab a walker and begin smearing its guts all over themselves.

The manage to escape. It's raining as they try surviving off dandelions and acorns, and they're out of willow bark, which is the stuff Rabby gave Clementine in Book One to help with pain. "Kenny" has felt so uncomfortable since the plane ride, and I've been uncomfortable ever since Clementine decided to name her prosthetic after Kenny, of all people.

But never mind that, it's time for Clementine and Ricca to share a moment in the rain. On top of her leg hurting and Olivia struggling, Ricca's eyesight is getting worse.

And then Olivia gets grabbed by a couple of men. They demand that Clementine and Ricca drop their weapons, and Olivia asks them to not hand over the hatchet since it belonged to Tim... this is the last mention we ever get of Tim.

And they get away from them super easily.

These men never come back and have zero impact on the story.

Our three protagonists take refuge in an abandoned home where we see them bandaging their wounds. And this is where cheesy dialogue that might sound better in another work sounds less great here:

Ricca: Why is every day so hard? Clementine: It won't be like this forever. Ricca: The world might not give us a choice, Clem. Clementine: Then I'll change the world.

...Right. Also, take note that Clementine and Ricca's hands are touching. The build up of the romance isn't terrible, honestly... I just wish the actual couple wasn't Clementine and Ricca, but I'll get more into that later.

They're getting closer to the ocean when they hear other survivors above them... and just like that, Clementine's feverish. She can't get up from the ground, her leg looks terrible, and she starts blacking out. It's jarring how out of nowhere she's suddenly in terrible condition. I think we're to assume that the lack of rest, being stuck in the rain, and being covered in walker guts made her condition decline, but when you realize just how bad it is... it doesn't make a whole lot of sense.

Ricca and Olivia do their best to carry her. Ricca begins singing a Jewish song about angels, and they make it to the beach. There's a boat in the distance that they have to flag down if there's any hope in Clementine surviving.

This is very dumb on their part. Olivia just runs into the ocean screaming, Ricca goes to help, and they leave Clementine on the beach with the cat... bad idea.

And we get our first dream sequence.

When I said I wanted Amos back, I meant that I wanted a big reveal that he survived the fall and was back for revenge, but nope! In Book One, we had Lee showing up in these bits, but he doesn't make any appearance in this book. Neither does AJ.

My extreme disappointment aside, Ricca and Olivia scream at the boat for help. But the waves are strong, and Clementine ends up swept into the ocean... dreadful sorry, Clementine. Who could've seen this coming?

Don't fear, though, she gets grabbed and pulled into the boat... and we fast forward to a month later. Yes, really.

Clementine wakes up in a new room, a comfortable bed, with a lovely view of the cliffside and ocean. She's been in a coma for a month... a month! Olivia's been feeding her and changing her bedsheets the entire time which... I don't think that's how that works?? You can't just spoon feed someone who is in a coma? You need feeding tubes? Which she wasn't connected to any! And with the way Morro explains her condition later, by all accounts, Clementine should be dead!

But why did she black out and fall into a coma, you ask? Her leg had a massive infection. I guess she wasn't cleaning it properly.

Whatever, Clementine still maintains her protagonist powers, so she's awake and well. Suspension of disbelief, y'know.

They're in this place that isn't actually given a name. It's made up of five little islands that almost connect, but they only use one. They farm, compost, build; every week there's a list of chores that everyone signs up for, they all have their own little houses and areas. They don't have to worry about walkers too much, other than when they wash up on shore from the water. It's a pretty damn nice set up... sure hope nothing bad happens to it.

Olivia's happy to see Clementine when she wakes, but they can't get Kenny back on. Clementine's rolled out of the house in a wheelchair to go to a birthday party. At this party, Clementine and Ricca reunite with a hug, and we're introduced to our new group of eight survivors:

Emi - She picked Clementine, Ricca, and Olivia up in her boat as she's the only one not afraid to go out on the water and fish. John - Morro's son. He does a lot of work on the island, like building walls and taking care of the cow. Amir - A young boy who lost his arm when he was bitten by a dog and his father didn't believe him. Shu-Fen - but they mostly call her Fen. She's quiet and keeps to herself. Ginette and Giles - a old, married couple who only speak French. Mercy - a young girl that Ginette and Giles take care of. Morro - she's not at the party, but at this point we learn she's in charge of things around here. Also, she's a doctor.

It's a lot of characters thrown at you all at once, but they're fairly easy to pick apart and remember. Definitely easier than trying to keep track of Georgia and Olivia in Book One.

So, what's the deal with this birthday party? Not everyone in this group could remember their real birthdays, so they decided to make one new birthday for everyone. There's cake, games, little party hats, all around good time.

But Clementine's not convinced. She's uncomfortable, she's asking a lot of questions, and this is where we start to see some tension between her and Ricca.

Y'see, Ricca really likes this place, and wants to settle here. Remember, while Clementine was in her coma, she and Olivia have lived here; they've already settled in nicely. They live in the house that's on the highest cliff and is deemed quite safe.

But Clementine is naturally suspicious of everything and is looking for something to be wrong, like that there's only one boat- one escape. This is an ongoing thing where Ricca wants to act like everything is fine, everything is safe, this is what they were looking for to begin with... and Clementine doesn't want to ignore any possible red flags; "Everything is fine until it isn't."

Clementine can't sleep and takes her wheel chair outside for some fresh air, and there she meets Miss Anne Morro. It's actually a well done interaction where we see these two poke and prod at each other the way two strong, leader-like personalities would butt heads. It's also just a little... unsettling. Morro's got that vibe, y'know?

We learn that Morro used to be a pathologist who performed autopsies, but she knows enough to help the living. She says she surprised that Clementine survived given she was nearly septic and she didn't have much in meds... if Clementine was nearly septic and in a coma, she should be dead but it's fine. She just really wanted to survive, I guess. That's what Morro believes it was; "You must've really wanted to stick around." / "You held on like some one with unfinished work."

Morro asks Clementine if she's going to stay as a lot of resources went into keeping her alive, and Clementine points out that was Morro's choice; "Don't pin your regrets on me."

Morro tells her that, while trustworthy, Ricca and Olivia are depressed, and insinuates that Clementine probably is, as well.

Morro smirks, and tell Clementine she'll be expected to work, and that work is everything before leaving Clementine to watch the sunrise alone.

We then get another time skip. Amir shows up on his bike to tell the girls that walkers breached the wall at Borgot. The three of them agree to go help, but they've all got issues; Clementine's been off her feet for weeks and Kenny's not fitting right, Ricca's vision isn't great and it being so gray and rainy doesn't help, and Olivia's been throwing up all week. But it's fine.

They get down there and meet up with Fen, who is surprised Clementine's there to help. Clementine snaps at her that she's been dealing with this shit just as long as she has and can handle a few walkers. She's just gotta get her sock that Ginette's knitted for her first. Ginette also gives her a new hat, the one we see her wearing on the cover of this book.

There are a lot of walkers by the time Clementine gets there. Ricca can't see anything, so Clementine tells her to go to safety... and I want you to really keep in mind how much this book tries to hammer in that Ricca can't see, okay?

Once the walkers are dealt with, we learn from Emi that all of the walker bodies are dragged to Morro so she can "deal with them." Emi thinks it's a waste of time given she's the one who provides the food for everyone, I'm sure it's annoying for her to know what Morro does. John and Fen are too busy helping Morro to help gut fish, so Clementine volunteers Olivia to help with that.

Clementine goes to find Ricca in this little shed where she's working on a project. Clementine tries to comfort her, but Ricca says she just needs to wallow for a little bit and clear her head while she works. She won't let Clementine see what she's working on.

Clementine asks Ricca to meet her on the docks at sundown, and I'm forced to roll my eyes because the miscommunication is exactly what you think it is; Ricca assumes this is a date, but really, Clementine wants to check out Morro's place to see what she does with the dead.

We get Amir's backstory behind his amputated arm: He got bit by a dog, but his father thought it was a walker bite and he was too little to stop him. His father drowned right before this boat crashed on the island. He and Clementine has some cute banter about how she grew taller and waited for her stump to grow, too.

Then we get to know Fen a little bit more- She's originally from Taiwan, but her family was on vacation here with the apocalypse hit, and she's been trying to piece together a world map so she can make it back home. Emi's helping her build a boat but she's still unsure. The map's... well, it's inaccurate.

That night, Ricca and Clementine meet up. Ricca's clearly cleaned up for a date and expresses her disappointment when it's an investigation instead... Clementine's oblivious to this. Truthfully, I feel sorry for Ricca here. I mean, it always sucks when you're excited for something, like a date, only to show up and oh... it's not what you wanted.

Emi comes to pick them up in her boat, and Ricca asks Clementine what it's going to take to convince her that they could be okay here.

But here's Clementine's concern- She's liking the island, but not enough to settle yet. Ricca's eyesight is bad, her prosthetic isn't great. Olivia's depressed. What if there's more out there for them, like an eye doctor or schools? Something even safer?

Ricca isn't satisfied with that answer. In fact, she's kind of hurt with the way Clementine said, "I don't want us to miss out, make the wrong choice."

They go to Morro's place, who is annoyed at being interrupted and tells Clementine her suspicion is tiresome. Turns out Morro's just doing autopsies on the dead. Doesn't matter how degraded they are, she examines each one, takes note of defining details, items on their person, etc. They're assigned a number and buried. It's a lot of work that Clementine questions.

Clementine: Why? Why spend all this energy on them? Morro: They are people. They deserve to be remembered. Clementine: They deserve to be thrown back in the sea. Each of these "people" has maimed and killed who knows how many others... Morro: And? Clementine: And!? In case you hadn't noticed, that corpse and ALL the others are the reason our parents are dead and the world is a pile of garbage. Morro: On this young man I found a medical bracelet. He was allergic to penicillin. I also found a ring in his pocket. Older style. Perhaps it belongs to his mother. His first death was a bad one. Burns, from what I can tell. Anywhere else, he'd decompose and disappear. But instead he washed up here. Kind of like you and your friends.

...okay, we're doing this, I guess. I don't think I need to say that TFS did it better with James and his viewpoint on walkers; how it was deep rooted in his trauma from time with the whisperers, and was meant to make the player think about what actually happens when you become a walker... Are you truly gone? or is there still a piece of you inside that walker? And it showed how far James was willing to go for his fucked up vision of "peace," but it made sense with his character.

This is meant to show how Morro is older, doing autopsies used to be her job, and so she has a different view on the dead. Clementine, however, was raised in this world and has no other view outside of "they're monsters."

But here's the deal, I don't believe Morro's intentions are purely about doing what's "right" for these people. It's about ignoring the real problems on the island and trying to make herself feel like a better person... which I don't think she is. I mean, did'ja see that final jab at Clem? Morro's kind of a passive aggressive ass, and believe me, it's going to get worse.

But Emi shoos them out, and they meet up with John, who is also working this late at night. Ricca steps away from the group and asks Clementine what's out there since everything's fuzzy. It's the graves where all the walkers are buried. Ricca admits there's something off about Morro, and that maybe she's missing something about this place. Maybe it's not safe, but she's scared to start over again, scared of waiting for Clementine to figure out what's wrong and they'll have to leave.

Then Clementine tells her they can stay.

...what?

When I say that I think Clementine's a little fickle with Ricca, this is what I mean. She's watching everything on this island like a hawk, looking for something to be wrong, worried that there might be something better out there... and then she does a 180 like "Okay, we can stay. Didn't realize this was wearing on you."

But that stance isn't going to stay the same! She goes back and forth on things, then we get this:

Ricca: You can still surprise me, Clem. Clementine: I'm sorry that it took me a while. That I made you wait. Ricca: Oh, come on. You know I'll wait for you. Clementine: I know you will.

Put a pin in that exchange; it's important and makes me upsetti spagetti.

Speaking of upset, by now we're at Chapter Four... this chapter makes me unhappy for so many reasons.

The group is waiting for dinner, and we see Clementine's learned how to knit. Amir comes in and tells everyone that the boat is at the beach but Emi and Olivia are no where to be found. He looked everywhere for them but it's so foggy that he couldn't find them. Something's wrong, but Morro is weirdly against sending out a search party... and we see the way she treats her son.

Uhm, first of all, rude. Second, it's gonna get worse.

The group goes searching. Clementine and John talk about Morro, and he says that she's only a jerk to him. She wasn't always that way, but after his sister's bite, she changed.

His sister, Sarah, snuck out one night and came back with a tiny bite. This was back when they didn't know what that meant, so Morro bandaged it up and they went to bed... only for her to turn and eat nearly everyone: his dad, his other sister, Fen's parents... but Morro was able to save him and Fen. And even though all of that happened, they still live in the inn because Morro told them they need to face it.

How funny given Morro doesn't want to face certain things later.

Then Clementine guesses why she does autopsies on the walkers: if Morro looks at each one, then she'll never miss another bite.

That makes no sense.

They're already dead. It doesn't matter if they're bitten. Pi and I were talking about this the other night; wouldn't it make more sense for Morro to be obsessed with checking the living for bites? Every night, they're to report to her office so she can examine them for any bite before they're allowed to go? Who gives a shit if a walker has a bite? What's that going to do for you? Everyone else on the island wants to burn the dead and not waste that much time, but Morro just doesn't listen.

Again, this is why I don't believe her intentions with it are pure. Morro made a mistake that wasn't even her fault, and she lost most of her family because of it. That's traumatic, and this is probably her way of working through that, of "atoning," but she's neglecting the living because of it.

Also, she treats her only living son like shit, so honestly? Fuck her. John doesn't deserve it. I'm team John, he's chill.

He then goes on to explain the backlog of walkers behind the graveyard.

...an entire community of walkers backlogged, you say? And Morro keeps putting them off? I'm sure that won't be the downfall of this group, Anne.

John and Clementine eventually find Emi and Olivia in the lighthouse. They go there to chill after fishing, and Olivia's upstairs getting some air. Clementine rushes up there and we get the first big twist. Are you ready? I bet you're not.

Olivia tells Clementine she got bit.

Except she didn't.

Olivia: I got bit. It's over. Clementine: What? You- show me, Olivia! Where? I'll cut it out! Olivia: I don't know what happened! Clementine: Where!? We have to hurry! Olivia: You can't cut it out, it's inside! I'm starting to turn already, I feel it! Clementine: It's... inside? Olivia: Something moved in me, it's the start of it. I'm becoming one of them. You know, I really liked being alive. Clementine: Olivia, show me where it moved. Olivia, clutching her stomach: Here. Clementine, sobbing and hugging Olivia: Okay, okay, don't worry... it's not a bite.

I... have so many feelings about this.

Just in case you don't get it, Olivia's pregnant. With a baby. And she thought it was a bite.

Remember how I said Amos and Olivia's "relationship" was important? Apparently they had sex in Book One and now she's pregnant. With a baby.

But... why?

I will tear into this more in Olivia's section, but know that I am unhappy. And so is Clementine. She goes off by herself, climbs a hill to overlook the backlog of walkers and just starts screaming at them.

....she says as if this is a new concept to her?

And y'know... given she already raised a baby- you remember Alvin Junior, yes? AJ? Yeah, the kid she left at Ericson? That one, she raised him from when he was a baby, so you'd think she'd bring that up in all this anguish.... but she doesn't. Which is bizarre. This paired with the fact that there are no mentions of Lee makes me think we're moving farther and farther away from the games, trying to establish this as its own thing. Which is fine for those who haven't played the games, but it's a glaring issue for those who have.

Anyway... dream sequence. This time Clementine and Ricca are on a boat that has a bed. It's snowing, Ricca tells her to come sleep, but there's a walker in the bed. It's so... honestly, the only way I can describe the imagery is it's so Tillie Walden, and that's a positive thing, that's a compliment.

The next morning, Olivia doesn't want to talk about her pregnancy. She's going down the "la la la I'm not ignoring this except I totally am la la la I'm going fishing" route, and storms out. Clementine tells Ricca about it, we learn Ricca tracks their periods, and Clementine asks if you don't have a period when you're pregnant... I think Kate must've missed that bit of info when she was giving her the talk in ANF.

Clementine mentions she saw a baby born but blocked it out because it was so scary... either she's talking about Christa, or Rebecca. Christa's the only one we know she was there for since for Rebecca's, she could either help Kenny or help the group, but she wasn't actually there for the birthing process... she was likely watching Sarah get eaten alive, assuming she lived that long.

But that's not important because Ricca's upset again.

Ricca: Do you regret all this? Staying? Clementine: No! No. We'd have problems like this anywhere. It's more that... I've been distracted. I know we've been, like, um... and I want to do stuff, but I need to make it safe first. Once everything is safe, then we can, um... Does that...? Ricca: Oh. Clementine: Ric? Ricca: I think Olivia had the right idea. I'm gonna go. Clementine: Ricca, I didn't mean- Ricca: You did mean it. Go fight your battles. They'll keep you company. Clementine: I- [interrupted by Ricca slamming the door]

What the fuck, Ricca?

I'll be honest, the first time I read this, I had to reread it, like, ten times because I didn't understand why Ricca was so pissed. But just wait, we'll get it to. I keep saying that, but I need you to trust me on this.

So Ricca storms out because reasons, and Clementine goes to talk to Morro about the backlog of walkers. Morro doesn't want to deal with the walkers right now, even though she knows they have to be dealt with eventually. She believes there are more important things that need done first; "Summer is precious here. There's grain to harvest, fish to cure, wood to store. If this isn't done, winter will end us. On top of that, we're behind on herb collection. We're behind on the sea walls. We're behind on laundry."

Gee, I bet y'all wouldn't be so behind if you spent less time on autopsies and more time helping out, Anne.

But Clementine's not having any of it, nor should she.

She knows there's no secure way to hold walkers, and can't wrap her head around how adults can read, write, and know so much that she doesn't and yet still not grasp the way this world works now. So, she'll take care of it.

What could possibly go wrong?

Clementine recruits John and Fen to help her build a tunnel with a door that'll let them control how many walks come out, that way they can deal with them slowly but surely. John's pumped about getting to help so that he can show his mom that he's not a screw up. Some time passes, they build the tunnel, and Morro tells Clementine to be careful that she doesn't lose herself in her work.

This book's definitely making Clementine and Morro character foils, which I like.

On the beach, Clementine and Olivia show just how much they know about pregnancy and their bodies... as in very little. Morro told her "some wild stuff" about the cervix and uterus, and then Olivia's like "she kept asking me about my last period, and I was like, um, why?" She doesn't even know why her period is important! This sweet summer child! How did she and Amos even figure out how sex worked!?

It really showcases how young Olivia is, though. Apparently the baby will be here in about four or five months. It's so... casual? I don't think the whole group knows, but Morro and Emi do and no one is like... "hey, there's gonna be a baby, we should probably prepare for that."

I guess we don't have time for that, though, because we have more clemricca drama to deal with.

Deep breath... okay. It's raining. Clementine's in her wheelchair. She goes to the little shed Ricca's used for her secret project. She won't let her in, by the way, even though it's pouring and they're both getting drenched. This is the conversation:

Clementine: I, um... Ricca: What? Clementine: I don't want you to think that anything is more important to me than you. Ricca: That's kind of how you made it sound. Clementine: What I meant to say was that I want this island safe for us. We can't do anything if we're dead. Ricca: What do you mean "do?" Kiss? Date? Talk about how we actually feel? The dead decide when that can happen!? Clementine: ... Ricca: I love you. And I'm pretty sure you love me, too. But you're not making me feel loved. You're making me feel like you just want to protect me or... Clementine: But I do want to protect you. It's all I think about. Every minute of every day. Ricca: I don't need saving, Clem. I need you to love me. And I need it to be always. It can't start and stop. Clementine: ... I... Ricca: Oh my god, maybe this has all been in my head-- Clementine: Ricca-- Ricca: I get it, okay? Clementine: If I let... if I let myself... Ricca: Forget this. Clementine: You said you would wait for me! Ricca: That's not fair. You want me to wait for the impossible!? Clementine: No, I-- Ricca: I'm done, Clem. Clementine: Ricca, don't go in yet, please, we can talk more-- Ricca, going back inside: What else is there to say? [slams door]

I..... hate this.

Again. We will dive into it in the Ricca/clemricca section, just know that I hate this so much... but wait, there's more coming!

So Clementine's left in the rain, crying, and I'm trying to keep my composure over all of this. Then we cut to her sitting on the beach, presumably the next day, where Giles and Ginette find her and Clementine breaks down crying in Ginette's lap.

We've made it to chapter six; they have the walker tunnel built, they're stabbing the walkers through it, and they're taking the bodies to Morro because of course she's still doing her autopsies. Fen tries to talk to Clementine about Ricca but she's not having it.

Morro's grumpy about this whole situation. When John offers to help her, she's just an asshole to him. She's going off about how this and that needs to be done, and Clementine stands up for John.

It doesn't go well.

And Clementine snaps at her with, "Your daughter getting bit really didn't convince you how dangerous walkers are? But I guess you didn't take that situation seriously, either."

Not gonna lie, I applaud Clementine with that one. But Morro's not going to just take that sitting down. She tells everyone to get out, and poor John is gripping his head, wide eyed, crying...

But Morro, suddenly calm, adds, "Oh, Clementine, I'm sorry to hear about the little break-up. My marriage didn't work out. My only regret is not leaving him sooner. I suspect you might be like me. We're just not suited for love. Better to realize that while you're young. Some things about yourself, well... you just can't change."

Ma'am, you are an asshole.

John is literally right that, and you just casually drop that you wish you'd left his father sooner even though he was eaten by walkers, eaten BY YOUR DAUGHTER who turned, and that you're not suited for love like??? Is that why you treat your son like shit??

Oh, but you're suuuuuuuch a good person for doing these autopsies and burying the dead, right?

Also, this is the second time someone's questioned Clementine's ability to love in this series. The first was Georgia before she was killed: "You've never loved anyone, Clementine, I can see it. You have no idea... how far I'll go... what I'll do..."

Hey, speaking of Book One- hard cut to a dream sequence with Amos and it makes little sense. Clementine's asking him how he and Olivia made their relationship work, they made it look easy and never seemed scared but like..... what relationship?? I have read Book One 10+ times! The relationship was practically nonexistent! He made a comment about her bright eyes and she invited him behind the curtain with her! Then suddenly she wants to go away with him back to his town!

But in this dream sequence, Clementine asks if she's too broken for this romance with Ricca, asking why she's so scared and shit, and just-

Clementine: Am I too broken for this? Amos: You think Ricca isn't broken, too? The only difference is that she isn't ashamed of her scars. She wants to face her fears with you. Not for you. Clementine: She deserves more... so much more than me. Amos, holding a baby??: She deserves the world. And that's you, Clementine.

I'm at a loss for words, I am so tired...

Ricca and Olivia find Clementine passed out in front of Ricca's shack. Fen told them what Morro said and apparently Ricca threw a plate at her head. Finally, she does something I approve of.

Ricca finally lets them in her shack to see the big project she's been working on- a synagogue; "It's like a church, but for Jews."

It's actually a really nice set up she's made, and it feels like Ricca's the only one who has the baby in mind since she's still trying to figure out a crib. She made groves in the floor so that she can move around even when she can't see. She talks about how this is a place for all of them where they can celebrate holidays, rest, pray, sing', etc. She's hoping to have a bat mitzvah one day, so the girls suggest they have one right now for the three of them.

So they gather together, light a bunch of candles, wrap themselves in blankets and put flowers in their hair. Ricca starts by reciting what she can remember from the Torah, and translates what she can for them; "Some of it is peace and God and stuff, then rest I really don't know. I just know that saying the words makes the ground feel... deeper. And it makes the sky seem so much higher up. I guess what I've learned is that I'm actually really lucky. To be here, right now. To have found you guys, this island. The mountain."

Now this is some development with Ricca I like. We've gotten snippets of Jewish culture with her character throughout these two books but this is the first time we've actually explored it and what it means to her.

Olivia goes next; "'It's not gonna be easy, it's gonna be really hard.' It's from a book we read in Vermont. Oh, and my favorite word from the dictionary. Speckle. It means 'a small part of something.'" She shares that she's thought about how everyone starts out as a baby and someone kept them alive without them even asking, and she's thought about them being super little when they had nothing to worry about... I'm sure this is all coming from the fact that she's soon to have a baby.

Now it's Clementine's turn to talk, and she asks to see what Ricca wrote down. It's a paper of words and phrases, symbols, and such that she could remember, and Clementine focuses on, "May there be abundant peace."

And this makes her realize that she does love Ricca.

....wait, what?

My head hurts. Breathe, CJ, breeeeathe.... It's fine, it's only Clementine apologizing even though she did nothing wrong. It's only us ignoring the fact that Ricca was out here pulling the, "I guess you never really loved me" guilt-trip because Clementine wasn't moving at her pace, it's fiiiiiiiiiine.... I'm not upset, I swear.

So... Clementine and Ricca confess they love each other and are officially girlfriends now, and we get more cheese from Clem; "Making it right between us... it feels like the whole world's been saved."

Oh boy. The girls talk about how they feel more adult after their bat mitzvah.

From here, we get into chapter seven where shit hits the fan. The problem I had with Book One had to do with pacing where it had this slow beginning and middle, and then crazy shit happened all at once toward the end... while the pacing for this book is a little better, this is where we just into that whiplash, "what the fuck, how did this happen??"

The girls fell asleep and now it's night. Everything seems chill as they deal with a stray walker and talk about Morro, and we get this line from Ricca, "Anyone who is mean to Clem is dead to me." which I find hilarious since that's literally the attitude the twdg fandom has. But the irony of that aside, shit's going down because they're surrounded by walkers.

The backlog of walkers got out.

There's hundreds of them.

Dr Barnwell, the cat, is back at the house so Ricca offers to go get him while Clementine and Olivia go to Morro's place where they assume everyone's held up... Remember that- Ricca, the one who can't see in the dark, is the one to go get the cat. They plan to meet at the docks.

Ginette, Giles, and Mercy are dead, being eaten by walkers outside of Morro's place. John's also dead inside, having been bitten. That's FOUR off-screen deaths, and lemme tell you, I'm pissed that John's dead. Morro's just standing there while while Emi watches the door and Fen holds a sobbing Amir.

Morro's still an asshole even when her son's dead, she's like, "My sweet, dumb boy." Lady, you were awful to him this entire book!

It turns out John was so upset last time we saw him that he convinced himself he could take all those walkers on, so he made the tunnel bigger for more to come through. He got overwhelmed and couldn't shut it down, got bit, panicked, and ran to his mother. Then he died on the floor. Just like that.

I..... am so upset about John, y'all.

The group plans to take Emi's boat and get outta there, but guess what? Morro's not going; "I'm not leaving my son."

She knows he's going to turn and doesn't care, AND this action of hers indirectly gets Amir killed. I'm serious. She's staying, so Amir starts throwing a fit that he wants to stay with John, too.

Before they go, Morro tells them to get to PEI, since years ago she traded with an herbalist named Saa who could potentially help them.

They leave, and a crying Morro goes to John while walkers break through the windows. She's dead.

Can't say I feel bad about that one, Anne, got gonna lie...

But then Amir gets killed when he continues to scream about going back to John. He gets away from Emi, goes back to the house and opens the door to find John as a walker. Walker John attacks Amir, killing him.

Characters are just dropping at this point, and we're not done!

Emi's crying out in distress, Clementine has to hold her back, and they all gotta make a run for it. They make it to the docks and Ricca's not there. Clementine refuses to leave her behind, and they get overwhelmed... and Emi saves Olivia, but gets bitten. Emi grabs a bunch of the walkers and drags them all down into the water with her... and she's gone.

I need to stress this... everyone except Fen from this new group is dead now, all killed in a SINGLE CHAPTER. This isn't like S2 where everyone from the cabin group eventually dies; that happened over the course of the season with each death hurting more and more until it all ended with Luke's death on the lake, and by then you're so numbed by the loss... this is just boom boom boom, DEAD.

And guess who shows up. They try to fake us out by making us think Ricca's a walker, but no. She's fine, and she has the cat.

Tell me... how the fuck did Ricca navigate the island in the dark to grab Dr Barnwell and make it to the docks in time when she can't fucking see anything??? HOW??? This book has hammered home that Ricca can't see. She can't see in the dark, she can't see in bad weather, she can barely see in the light! You expect me to believe she did all of this without getting chomped? That she made it back in time? UGH.

John's dead. Emi died to save Olivia. Amir's dead. Giles, Ginette, and little baby Mercy are dead....... but somehow, somewhat, Ricca managed to survive, I'm.......... I'm not saying I want her dead, I'm saying I'm upset laughing right now.

Anyway... that bullshit's over. Chapter eight, three weeks later, they're in this community looking for Saa. Their boat got stolen, they're living off rotten potatoes, and they still haven't found Saa. Clementine and Fen wander around until someone can point them in her direction, and they find Saa and Derrick.

Saa's a woman in a wheelchair, both legs amputated from before the outbreak, and Derrick seems to be her right-hand man.

Saa has Derrick get them a supply bag and lets them on her boat. She's planning to leave town and shows Clementine and Fenn her world map. Remember how Fen was trying to piece together her own map? Yeah, she gets overwhelmed when she realizes just how off her map was. Taiwan's farther than she expected, so she leaves believing she'll never make it home.

By the way, I am happy Fen survived. I think she's a neat character and I'm interested where Book Three takes her character.

Saa's quite likable for a character introduced so late in the book. She talks with Clementine about how amputees existed before the dead rose, and Derrick comes back with a box of supplies. We learn that Saa wants to go to Greenland since she got a letter from a friend who went there, and Clementine's surprised that letters are a thing.

Also, Saa's crew might be dead. She doesn't believe they are, but Derrick does. This gives Clementine a lightbulb moment, and she offers her group to be Saa's new crew.

Saa: Woah, woah, we need five experienced hands, not two kids. Clementine: Olivia is experienced! She knows boats! Saa: Are there five of you? Clementine: Yes! Saa: Are you lying to me? Derrick: Definitely. Clementine: No! No, it's just... Only four of us can help. One isn't born yet. Derrick: Oh my. Saa: No. No.

But don't worry, Clementine sells the group well enough that Saa reluctantly agrees. I guess we're going to Greenland in Book Three.

They camp, and in the morning Clementine drags Ricca and Olivia to this person who takes polaroid photos... because there'ssomeone who just does that, I guess. Then they head to the boat. They set sail, it's a grand ol' time.

Then Clementine and Ricca have their first kiss.. and we head into chapter nine.

I think everyone's heard of chapter nine by now, but whether you've heard of it accurately is another story. Do you know how many comments I've read on reddit about this chapter that are just... false?? Spreading misinformation?? It's ridiculous.

Clementine and Ricca have sex this chapter, but there's no sex scene. It doesn't even show any kissing. It's literally a fade to black. It's not explicit, and no, reddit, it's not like 50 Shades of Grey, you dumbasses.

They're laying together in what I assume is their room on the ship, talking about scars, and this is how conversation progresses:

Clementine: Back in Vermont when we’d bump into each other in that tiny cabin… my whole face would feel hot. Ricca: I remember. You were hard to reach, then. Clementine: I remember. Ricca? Ricca: Hmm? Clementine: Have you had sex before? Ricca: Yeah, have you? Clementine: No… I’m still not totally clear on what it is… Ricca: A lot of it is instinctual. Clementine: Bullshit, maybe for you. Ricca: I’m serious! You and the other person respond to each other. Clementine: Stabbing walkers in the head when they’re trying to kill you is instinctual. This… this is… so overwhelming. Ricca: Doing anything for the first time is… Think about the first time you shot a gun, or started a fire. Clementine: I remember my first walker… I was so scared that day. That year. Ricca: You were alone? Clementine: I was. But I’m not now. I don’t have to figure this out myself. You’ll show me everything? Step by step? Ricca: Of course. We can take our time. Clementine: Doesn’t it feel like… like we have to hurry? Do everything we can as soon as we can? Ricca: Why would we need to? I’m not going anywhere. And we are in the middle of the ocean. Clementine: I know, I know, it’s not that, it’s… Whenever I feel happy, when it’s peaceful like this, it always seems to get cut off. I want to make this feeling… this night… last. How do I do that? Ricca: You mean… How do we stop time? Clementine: Yeah. Can you teach me that, too? Ricca: Hmm… Clementine: I’m not asking for much, just for tonight to last a little longer. As soon as the sun comes up, there’ll be so much to do. Ricca: For you, Clementine. I’ll have a word with the sun… and ask for a little more time.

Clementine wakes up the next morning to the sunlight pouring in through the window with tears in her eyes.

The end; to be continued in Book Three.

That's the whole plot. That's everything that happened.

It's a lot. Book Two's longer than Book One, but I found myself enjoying it a little more... but with that comes even more disappointment than before. I can see a good, solid story here but it wasted a lot of opportunities. I hate that it introduced a new cast of characters just so it could kill all but one of them off in a single chapter, that hurt. The romantic subplot is bad because, in my opinion, the couple involved shouldn't be together. There's stuff to like, hence why I've given it a higher rating than Book One, but it's bogged down by some major flaws.

But let's get into the character's now.

Dreadful Sorry, Clementine...

The best way I can describe Clementine is she's incredibly inconsistent with the game's depiction of her, but she's consistent between both books. Ignoring the games, this feels like a natural-ish progression of her character from Book One.

I believe I mentioned this in my review of Book One, and if not there I've said it before, but this Clementine is like if we skipped TFS. Book One felt like we picked up right after ANF, except Clementine decided not to go after AJ and instead went off on her own, that's how angsty she was... even though that doesn't make sense because we know she was at Ericson and AJ was the one to cut off her leg. It's a regression you won't notice if you haven't played the games, but most of us have. That's why people call her Tangerine. We're backtracking to tell the same character arc in a different, less compelling way.

There were more points in this one where I feel the real Clementine peaking through, though, usually when she's sassing Morro. But the rest of the time it's just a shell of who she once was.

I will say that I find the approach to Clementine's knowledge... interesting? She's definitely dumbed down a little, but it feels like a situation where the book needs the reader to know something and uses Clementine to get that information across, resulting in her looking dumb. Remember when she didn't know she needed to wash her leg in Book One and everyone threw a fit? It's like when you're watching a movie and a character pulls the, "As you know," out; if the character already knows, why are you telling them? You're not, really, you're telling the audience. It's the same vibe; we need to know she needs to clean her leg.

But here we get to also look at Clementine's lacking in educational knowledge. I've already read some people being grumpy that she struggles with reading and writing her name, and fair enough... but remember that Clementine's education stopped at first grade. I think these books are trying to tell the story of someone who grew up in this world... as in Clementine's not exactly practicing her reading and writing every day the same way an average student does in the modern world. She's going to struggle. That's something the games just ignore and make her read super well, and they did the same thing with AJ. No five-year-old can read that well, especially if taught by another less educated person, c'mon now.

Also, y'all crack jokes about how Clementine has a first grade education and can't do math and shit but then the comic presents that in a more realistic way than the games and suddenly you have a problem? Mmhmmmm.

I like that Clementine airs that frustration with Morro about how adults know how to read and write and they know all these things she doesn't understand, but she has the knowledge of how to survive in this world better than any adult because she grew up in it and has little knowledge prior to this life.

She's also paranoid for a lot of the time on the island, which makes sense. She's witnessed enough community failures to be wary of things seeming too good to be true. Plus, she was in a coma. She has every right to wake up unsure about everything, and it's annoying that Ricca and Olivia never stop to consider that they've had a month to settle in and get comfortable, Clementine hasn't. She's trying to catch up. Ricca especially gets annoyed that she won't just hurry and feel safe already and that's a whole can of worms I'll get to.

This book hones in on Clementine becoming an adult after growing up in this world...whatever that means. By now I think we're to assume she's 18, and it gives us two growth scenarios where Clementine has a birthday and a bat mitzvah, which I think is supposed to show a "new chapter" in her life, so to speak.

This book also tackles her falling in love like it's the first time... which I guess means we're dealing with a single Clementine from TFS. I mean, if we have to do this, I'd prefer that. So y'know... anyone acting like this series made Clementine a "cheater," that's inaccurate and you know it, you're just trying to make everything worse than it really is.

I just wish Clementine fell for someone who didn't twist things to be her fault or guilt her into moving at a pace she clearly wasn't comfortable with. Then the book acts like Clementine had to have an epiphany that she does really love Ricca as if that's growth like.... stop. Stop trying to tell Clementine she's incapable of love as if romantic love is the only valid love that everyone has to learn to have. Clementine did love. She loved Ricca and Olivia as friends in this shitty world; she loved Dr Barnwell; she loved Amos enough to dream about him in order to seek his comfort, like... this Clementine is capable of love.

She apparently didn't love anyone at the school enough to stay but ahem not the point-

I can tell that Tillie Walden's not as comfortable writing for a character that's already established versus her original characters. It's so easy for everyone to throw around "this is just fanfiction!" like it's an insult [how ironic given the fandom tends to thrive on fanfiction but sure lets use it as an insult when convenient] but let's be serious about that for a moment.

There's a certain skillset in writing what's considered "good" fanfiction; I believe anyone can write fanfic, but tastes will always be subjective as not everyone will agree what's in character or not, and not everyone finds the same prose enjoyable. There's always room to improve when you're writing fanfiction, but not everyone will like your stuff.

I've read a lot of what I'd consider bad fanfiction in my time; clunky and awkward prose, unnatural dialogue, unappealing storylines and decisions, characters behaving in ways they never would in the source material. We all know how the thought of "They wouldn't say that," can take you right out of the fic you're reading.

When writing, the source material is a helpful tool that I encourage all fanfiction writers to take advantage of. The characters already have an established voice that you have to mimic, mannerisms and facts of their life to consider, and there's a lot of interpretation at play. Based on what you know of them, how would they react in this situation, or that one? If you're familiar enough with the source material and have the dedication, you can create some amazing stories.

I don't think Tillie has the right "toolbox," if you will, for fanfiction. She's skilled in writing her own characters and stories, something that's impressive as not everyone can do that, but she clearly struggles with Clementine. She's played the games [yes, I believe her when she says she played them, keep your snark in your lip] but she hasn't played them the way fans and fanfiction writers have. She's not using the source material the most effective way, and that might be on purpose, honestly. She only uses enough to remind us that this Clementine's originally from the games, but not enough to make her convincing.

All in all, Clementine's the most developed character in these books, obviously, but she's not as great as she could be. She's definitely more tolerable in Book Two than Book One.

Oh, Miss Morro, how you've disappointed me...

I don't like her.

I got beef with Anne.

I so desperately hoped she was conducting science experiments on the walkers. I wanted her to sew body parts onto walkers to see if they functioned; to see her create monstrosities for the sake of science or whatever other bullshit.

But no, she's just an asshole doing autopsies on walkers to make herself feel better while ignoring the big problem that eventually lead to their downfall. She mistreats her son even though he does most of the work around the island.

And she knows there's a lot of work to be done but spends that precious time doing these autopsies despite everyone knowing it's a waste of time... then she has the gall to lecture Clementine about not wasting time. She's passive aggressive, aloof, and just... unpleasant? Even when she's being nice, you get the sense it's fake.

While she's a better "antagonist" [if you can call her that] than Georgia was in Book One, she's just another disappointment. Why not go ham with it? We're on an island that seems too good to be true, you've got this old woman who leads the group but goes off to her little shack at night to work with the dead, you've established there's only one way of escape and that's Emi's boat... make her fucking crazy!

I get we're trying to be deep and psychological with her trauma over losing her family after she disregarded a bite, but it falls flat. You can't just make her an asshole the entire time and then her son dies and she's suddenly like, "ah, my poor, dumb son... I'm gonna stay here and be eaten by walkers now, I don't want to go on."

Imagine this, m'kay? Remember how I said she should be more concerned over checking the living for bites? Say she's obsessed with doing that and everyone sees her point since they don't want a repeat of what happened... then one of them does get bitten, either by a walker or something else, and they gotta deal with it... and then it's revealed that Morro used them in her experiments when Clementine finds them as a walker with parts sewn onto them and shit. Have John be in denial that his mother's doing anything fucked until he has to face it head on! Have everyone turn on Morro! Make her dangerous!

She's not a compelling character, she's just a bitch and I don't like her... and that's the wasted potential of this book right there.

Ricca upsets me

Okay, listen... I don't like Ricca.

I don't think anyone does, but I don't think any of you understand, y'know? She isn't a bad character just because she isn't Louis or Violet, or because you're pissy about the comics existence.

There are layers to why I don't like her. This is a "you don't understand her like I do" situation, except most people use that phrase when they're up their own ass and wholeheartedly believe their interpretation of their favorite is the only correct one, but me? I'm up my own ass about this character I don't even like!

Most of y'all haven't read the comics like I have. That's why you're here. Either you've read through them once or twice, you've only read other peoples reviews and formed your opinions based on them, or you've watched a video of someone reading the comic and they've influenced your judgement.... but me? I've studied these comics! I've read them critically, analytically! I went into this with an open mind about Ricca; I gave her a chance! I gave clemricca a chance! Which is more than I can say for most of you!

And all I've gotten in return is a headache!

Let me get the good out of the way, because there are things about her character that I do like. If you'll recall in Book One, Ricca mentions that she thinks she's the last Sephardic Jew left, and in this book we see her singing Jewish songs, she builds her own synagogue, and we get the big bat mitzvah. I really like that it wasn't just a throwaway detail that Ricca's Jewish, and that we get some exploration into that side of her.

Her worsening eyesight was interesting for me as someone who also has terrible sight and needs glasses to function, but it kind of gets ruined when we've built it up for so long only to toss it out the window in the end. She's supposedly blind at night, yet she made it through a herd of walkers back to their house, grabbed the cat, and made it back to the docks in just in time leave with everyone?

Absolutely not. The only way I could see that working is if she had a way of knowing where she was at all times without her sight, like what she did in her shed with the floor. It's unclear if she's covered herself in walker guts, but that's another way she could've made it without getting bitten... but that still doesn't help that she cannot see and doesn't have a means of seeing without her eyes.

Sorry, this is supposed to be what I liked... I do like the glasses stuff, just not when it's inconsistent. Ricca also has some funny lines here and there, she's definitely a little snarky and sarcastic at times. She's hardworking, and picks up the slack when Olivia's too depressed to do anything, which I appreciate, but... that's it. There isn't a whole lot else I enjoy about this character.

Everything I dislike stems from her relationship with Clementine.

First of all, they have little to no chemistry when it comes to romantic banter. It's bizarre, though, because I believe the trio's friendship more than I believe Clementine and Ricca have some sort of deeper connection. Without Olivia there, it's awkward.

Clementine's focused on the island, determining if it's safe, looking for something to be wrong or dangerous. Ricca wants to turn a blind eye to any potential danger as she wants this island to be their safe place to settle, and gets irritated with Clementine's paranoia.

And just... it pisses me off that Ricca tells Clementine that she'll wait for her. At this point, it's pretty obvious that they have romantic feelings for one another, for some reason. But, Clementine's rather fickle about it due to fear. Ricca telling her that is meant to be this romantic notion that she loves her enough to wait until Clementine's ready for a relationship... except no! When things don't go the way she wants it, Ricca throws it back in Clementine's face and it's so shitty!

Clementine wants to protect her and Ricca acts like that's a bad thing? You don't feel loved because Clementine wants you to be safe? You don't need saving?? Girl, you DO need saving because you can't fucking see! We've spent this entire book establishing that you need help because of it! And then you use that to tell Clementine that you need her to love you always!

Ricca's so awful in this moment. Then she accuses Clementine's feelings of not being real just because she's not responding the way she's "supposed to," and that's cruel.

"I'll wait for you," is a lovely lie, isn't it? Pretty, but hollow. You don't get to say that and then when Clementine calls you out on it, throw a fit that she's in the wrong for making you wait for the impossible, as if you're a victim in all this!

Ricca, Clementine doesn't owe you shit. She doesn't owe you a relationship just because you supposedly love her. Hell, if you did love her, you wouldn't be acting like this! If Clementine isn't ready to kiss, or say she loves you, then she isn't ready and pressuring her is bullshit.

"Oh we should talk about how we actually feeeeel~!" Fuck off, Ricca, she told you why she's scared of having a relationship right now and why she wants to island to be safe.

Can you imagine if Louis and Violet behaved like this? Imagine ep2, Clementine tells them, "Hey, I like you but I want to make the school safe, we need to deal with the raiders first before we focus on us," and they were like, "I'll wait for you, Clem." Only for ep3 to come around and they're like, "That's not fair, you want me to wait for the impossible! I? I'm done, Clementine, your feelings for me weren't real!"

But Louis and Violet never did that because they respected Clementine as a person with autonomy! If she rejected them romantically, neither blew a gasket. Neither accused her of toying with their feelings. The only time something like that comes up is if Clementine romances Violet and then lets her get taken by raiders, but in Violet's defense, I think she has a good enough reason to throw that around, y'know?

Ricca's just being mean. She's intentionally trying to hurt Clementine's feelings because she's sour that the relationship isn't progressing exactly as she wants it and she's tired of waiting.

But the worst part? The book presents this as Ricca being right. At the bat mitzvah, Clementine realizes she loves Ricca and that she was wrong and I'm furious. Not a single mention of Ricca's shitty behavior, no apologies for the guilt-tripping or being vindictive, nothing! Clementine was wrong to prioritize the island's safety over her feelings for Ricca! What a lesson she's learned, folks!

How.... dare you, frankly. I hate it so much. It's acting like it's this deep relationship that's exploring conflicted feelings and handing all these emotions with care but... all I see is Clementine having valid reasons for not wanting a relationship right now and Ricca guilting her until she changes her mind. Clementine shouldn't be the one apologizing here.

I guess we gotta talk about chapter nine now.

I don't want to say all of you have blown it out of proportion, but most of you have. Clementine and Ricca have sex. It's not explicit. Nothing is shown. There isn't even any kissing. There's cheesy dialogue. It's a fade to black. I don't think it could've been done any more tastefully than that.

If it wasn't Clementine involved, not a single one of you would've batted an eye. But because y'all are white knights who put Clementine on a pedestal, her fictional honor is apparently at stake and here we are.

Look, I'm no prude, okay? I read and write Dragon Age fanfiction, and sex can be a big part of those games, for better or worse. I've read my fair share of fics with smut in them, and I'm writing a Dragon Age fic with sexual content in later chapters. I'm not here to clutch any pearls or act like exploring sexual topics is a bad thing, because it's not.

I don't love that this is in a book rated ages 14+. I don't think it was necessary, but I understand why it's here in the context of "Clementine's stepping into adulthood in a world where death forever lurks." I just wish the target audience for these books was older, like... if you're going to include sex and a teen pregnancy, your audience shouldn't be middle grade.

The reason it feels icky to me is I don't like the couple or how they got together. This isn't a good relationship. It's not built on a foundation of trust. The sex is consensual, which is good, but I can't help feeling like Clementine deserved someone who respected her more than Ricca does.

So yeah... Ricca's not a bad character just because she's not Louis or Violet. She bad because she's selfish to her core, but the books portray her as selfless and right.

And to everyone screaming "but Clementine's not 18 yet is she???!?!? UNDER AGE SEX!?!?!?!" I argue that you don't actually give a shit about ages. Y'know why? Because not one of you, not a single goddamn one of you, has had the same energy about Olivia's pregnancy. Amos was 16 when he and Olivia had sex in Book One, and I have feeling she's also around that age.

Y'all really glossed over that, didn't you? So no, you don't care about whether or not a character's old enough for sex. If you did care, you would've been just as alarmed, if not more, about Olivia and Amos... but you're not because you don't care about Olivia, she's not you're precious widdle Clemmy.

Olivia's pregnancy bothers me way more than Clementine and Ricca having consensual sex... which is a great segway into--

Olivia is my new child and that's why I'm mad that she's probably going to die in Book Three

I like Olivia a lot, actually. I'm adopting her. She's my child now, and her baby is my grandchild.

But I'm pretty sure she's going to die. It's predictable, y'know? So predictable that I hope Book Three subverts expectations and this isn't the case, but... my prediction is Olivia will die giving birth to her baby, leaving Clementine and Ricca to raise the baby.

Insert Amos Junior [AJ 2.0] joke here.

Olivia gets some much needed character development in this book. She's showing signs of depression; it's hard to get her to do anything in the beginning and Ricca has to pick up her chores. It's understandable, given her twin sister murdered Amos and then died, too. Her mother's a walker, she's lost everything.

It isn't until she and Emi go fishing together more that she comes out of her shell. I wish we got to see more of her and Emi's friendship, actually. Especially since Emi gave her life and boat to save her. She's kind and naive, a lot like Amos was but in a different way. Olivia's more aware of how shitty the world is than Amos was.

The pregnancy is bullshit. I hate it. Why are we doing this again? And with a teen pregnancy? Why are we bringing in another baby after we jumped through hoops to make Clementine leave the first baby behind? It's not going to end well. Either Olivia's going to die, or that baby is. These comics, and TWD in general, aren't above killing off kids or babies. What are the odds that both Olivia and the baby survive? That would be too happy for our nearing conclusion.

And with how little Olivia knows about sex, periods, and babies, and that Amos came from an Amish community, it's amazing that they even figured out how sex worked to begin with.

Thinking back on it, is THAT why Georgia pushed him off the mountain? Not only did she feel he was trying to take Olivia away, but he slept with her? That actually makes a little more sense! Too bad Georgia never bothered giving us that reason, huh?

It's just... this pregnancy is such a heavy thing for Book Three. Poor Olivia's doomed, and she's the only likable one of the trio.

I don't blame Tillie for this, or for anything else in this comic, since she's not the only one making these books happen. Skybound approved this, her editors approved this, everyone involved thought, "yeah, pregnant Olivia, good idea, that'll bring some tragedy." and I'm just sitting here with my head in my hands like, "noooooooooooooooo...."

These books already took my son away, wasn't that enough?

Speaking of-

Until I see a body, Amos ain't dead in my heart

We have one more book left, just let me hold out hope that Amos survived the fall and will come back as twist antagonist in Book Three, okay? Mark my words, if he comes back, Book Three will get an immediate 5/5 stars, regardless of the other bullshit.

Amos is just a vision in Clementine's dreams this time around. I miss my boy, he didn't deserve this treatment.

And now watch, the book will be cheeky like "You want Amos back? Here's AJ 2.0, that still counts!" Not what I meant!

This review's long, let's lightning round the rest of the characters since I don't have that much to say about them that I haven't already said

--I'm happy Fen survived and look forward to seeing what Book Three does with her, assuming it doesn't just kill her off or some other bullshit.

--I'm pissed John died. If we're going to kill everyone else off anyway, why couldn't Fen AND John survive? He worked his ass off on that island and his mother treated him like shit. To kill him off-screen's bullshit. Would've been way more compelling to have him survive and face the guilt of losing his mother even after the way she treated him.

--Emi's another great character that hurt to see go, but it's fitting that she saved Olivia and gave her the boat before taking the walkers down with her.

--Amir's great. Also pissed he died. Shitty way to go. Did we really need to see walker John eat him?

--Ginette, Giles, and Mercy are just kinda there. They're not too important, but it's still sad to see they got eaten alive by a herd of walkers... especially Mercy.

--I'm actually excited for Saa and Derrick. I hope they play a big role in Book Three and this isn't a Christa and Omid situation; as in they're around for five minutes and then die/separate from the group. They seem really chill and I look forward to hearing more of their backstories.

In conclusion, it's not great but it's better

Even though the clemricca romance legitimately pisses me off, I enjoyed this book more than I thought I would. I definitely had a different attitude going into it versus how I went into Book One which I think helped me have a better time. There are things to like about it if you'll give it a chance, but I understand why people aren't.

It has issues with pacing, character development/progression, and the romance. I hate that everyone but Fen from the new group got killed off. I hate that we have a pregnancy plot now. I'm disappointed with Morro as a character and antagonist.

But the art's improved greatly. Olivia's a better character now. The new cast is quite fun and likable prior to dying. There are themes and elements that are explored and done well.

The hate Tillie gets for these is absurdly gross. They're just comics. No, shut up, they're just comics. The games still exist. Tillie didn't ruin them, and in my opinion, if you truly believe she did ruin the games, that's a you problem. That's you letting these books ruin the games for you. No one's out here making you read them. No one made me read them, I chose to do that just as I chose to see them as not canon. Sending hate and threats to her and Skybound does nothing but prove what a piece of shit you are. By all means, hate the comics all you want, that's your right, but leave real life people out of it.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again: Clementine isn't real. I get that she's important to you, but she's a fictional character. She's not going to come to life and reward you for your twentieth comment on Tillie's instagram calling her vile names or threatening to find her for what she did. Clementine isn't going to like your video of you screaming into your mic about what an injustice these comics are, and she's not going to sign your petition to get the comics cancelled.... because she's not real. Go outside. Touch grass. Remember that you're only alive for a short time and try to do something of worth with that knowledge.

We only have one more book in this trilogy left, but do y'all really think it'll end there? Do you think Skybound will give a shit that fans hated the comics and will respectively leave Clementine alone? No, that's not how money's made.

I hope once Tillie's done with this series, she continues to have a great career. It's strange, like... I'm of two minds where I want Book Three to be super good in hopes that fans will just leave her alone... but then there's a little gremlin inside me that also kind of hopes she gets a final fuck you in aimed at the fandom. I'm sorry, the fandom's been embarrassingly terrible to her and they deserve it.

I hope she kills Clementine off... yeah, I said it. She won't because Skybound definitely won't let her, but it would be so good. I say kill Clementine off, turn her into a walker, let her eat AJ 2.0! No happy ending for anyone, just a middle finger!

Literally everyone else would be fuming and frothing at the mouth with shit posts on reddit about how Tillie "rUInEd" TWDG and then killed Clementine off and I would be in my corner just cackling and applauding her.

"How can you say that, CJ?? you fake fan???"

Look, my Clementine's still at Ericson, vibin' with AJ and Louis. Willy made her a new leg, she didn't name it Kenny, she named it Legolas [she still doesn't know who that is even after Aasim and Louis explained Lord of the Rings to her]. She and Violet play competitive cheater's uno every Thursday. She's living her best life.

Comic Clem's another Clementine to me entirely. If she lives, great! If she dies, oh no! Anyway-

To wrap this up... Clementine Book Two has issues, there are missed opportunities, and I think the romance is bad. But there's enough good here that made it enjoyable enough. I don't feel right about giving it a 2/5 stars, but 3/5 feels too high, so 2.5/5 feels right.

I also encourage people to actually read it for themselves. Don't just take my word for it, or reddit's, or whatever. Read it yourself and form your own opinions instead of parroting someone else. It'll make for better discussion rather than a cesspool for hate.

When Book Three comes out, I'll read and review that one, too. As of right now, we haven't heard anything about it, but I'll be sure to keep an ear out and share the news with y'all.

Now I'd like to hear from you; did you read Book Two? What are your thoughts? Do you agree or disagree with any of my takes? Feel free to send in asks or leave comments below.

Thanks for reading! 💚

#Clementine Book Two review #twdg clementine #twdg #twdg aj #twdg louis #twdg violet #long post #clementine book one #clementine book two

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