#you just gave her the chance to replace her hand with a knife and a shield are you stupid. are you dumb.

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 7: Quest for Answers

In which Danny does her best to learn more about her new living situation from a smug giant and a cheery, possessed house. Contains: ~2.2k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

Danny wasn’t disturbed the next morning as she expected to be—whether it be from Christopher coming to rectify Sam’s mistake and return her to her cage, or for her to learn what it meant for her “service” to be required. Instead, she was free to lie amongst the blankets that spanned a bed larger than anything she could have ever imagined before. She had no issues with her toes sticking out from under the covers, or rolling too far towards the edge of the bed in the middle of the night—and she certainly didn’t have any problems involving not having enough blankets to keep her warm. 

If it hadn’t been for the latent anxiety pestering her all night, she was sure she would have gotten the best sleep of her life.

She was content to lie there as the sun came up—not that she had much of a choice. She supposed she could call for Sam to help her down, but where would she go? What would she do? It was much more pleasant to submit to this small amount of comfort amidst a sea of uncertainty and fear.

As if he could sense this comfort of hers and absolutely could not let her have even this small moment of peace, she heard a set of giant footsteps approach her room, followed by a knock at the door. 

“May I come in?” 

Danny glared at the door. Asking for permission. Cute. “No.”

There was a pause, a silent moment of the giant possibly contemplating his next course of action, before the doorknob turned and the door opened ever so slightly. She rolled her eyes and flipped over in bed, facing away from Christopher as he entered. Of course he was just gonna come in anyways. Why did he even ask?

She half-expected to be picked up and dragged from under the sheets, but to her surprise, Christopher seemed to stop just before the bed, and she remained where she was.

“What do you want?” she growled, still stubbornly facing away from him.

“An apolog–ah!” Christopher’s sentence was cut off by a small yelp of pain, which intrigued Danny enough to turn around and give him an amused smirk. He seemed to be rubbing his ankle with a withering glare directed towards the rug.

He placed something down on the nightstand next to Danny—a human-sized tray of breakfast food. She looked slowly between it and the giant, narrowing her eyes in such a way that it suggested she was calculating the necessary velocity to toss it at him again.

Almost as if he could sense her intent, he took a courteous step backwards. “What I meant to say was, I brought you something to eat.” He spoke in the same stilted manner as someone who was mildly annoyed that they had a knife held to their neck.

She just glared at him silently, filling the dead air between them with the meager weight of her animosity. Silence, at least, would have the same impact on a giant as it would on a human. 

Christopher stared back at her with a much more dead-eyed expression, like she was boring him more than anything. He gave her a curt nod. “I’ll leave you be.”

He turned to exit the room, but as he did so, she found herself breaking the silence and calling out after him. “Hey!” 

He stopped in place, but didn’t turn to face her. 

She sat up in bed, crossing her arms. “Stay here for a minute. I’ve got a few questions for you, bastard.”

Sam said give him a chance, right? Fine. This is me, giving this fucker a chance.

Christopher turned around and met her eyes again, although this time, the seeming apathy was replaced with…surprise, and even a hint of amusement as a small grin crept up his face. He pulled a nearby chair up next to the bed, and sat down a respectable distance from Danny, folding his hands into his lap. “Well, I’ll try to answer as best as I can, doll.” 

“Danny,” she corrected him, already beginning to regret extending an olive branch. “First. I want to know what you did to Nathan yesterday, when he came here. He was terrified, and I’m still not buying your fucking story about him ‘trespassing.’ Did you hurt him?”

She kept her voice even, though there was enough deadly venom laced in her tone to drive an unspoken point home. 

Christopher blinked a few times, like this was an odd question somehow. “...no, I didn’t hurt him. A lot of people are…frightened of me simply due to my size, and I imagine your friend was one of them. Nathan is perfectly fine, I assure you.” 

Danny’s eyes flicked mercilessly over the giant’s face for any hint of deception, finding the inscrutable, seemingly sincere expression nearly impossible to read. She didn’t want to believe him, even if what he was suggesting was the best possible explanation in terms of Nathan’s wellbeing.

For now, she’d have to take his word on it. She could question Nathan when she got back home.

“...you say that, but you sent him off in the middle of winter, at night, alone. Not only that, but he’s having to take care of the whole house by himself for a month. How do I even know he made it back okay?” Her voice broke—speaking it aloud made her realize her fears even clearer, and it made her heart clench in fear. 

Christopher returned her worries with what appeared to be a genuinely sympathetic look. “I had someone make sure he arrived back home safely. And,” he grinned, “because I’m so generous, I’ve arranged for a small donation to be made that should tide your friend over through your absence. I’m not heartless, Danny.” 

She found the suggestion laughable. “Generous? You’re keeping me prisoner here. Why the fuck are you helping us? Isn’t this supposed to be some sort of punishment?” 

Christopher sat up a little straighter in his chair, although she caught what seemed to be a sort of weariness to his posture. “There are simply rules that must be followed. I don’t delight in torment. Only one person needs to repay the debt that is owed—there is no need to punish further than that.” 

She snarled back at him unkindly, loathing the impersonal, matter-of-fact way he spoke about punishment and rules in such a way that it almost seemed to make sense—when in fact, keeping her prisoner here for Nathan’s “trespassing” was actually insanity. 

But if what Christopher was saying was true, then she could at least put the thought of Nathan struggling on his own out of her head…somewhat. Surely, he would still be worried sick, frightened, and alone.

It’s just a month. That’s all. 

“So what am I expected to do here, exactly?” This was the real mystery to her—what, honestly, could a human even do in a place so large?

“Sam will be the one to direct you on what needs to be done. I expect they will be here shortly.” He stood up, and nodded towards her with a cordial bow of his head and a placid grin. “Until then, be well, and enjoy your breakfast.”

“Hey, wait!” 

Her protest didn’t stop him this time—Christopher turned and left the way he’d come, leaving her alone with the tray of food nearby. She regarded the door he closed behind him curiously, somehow more confused about the giant than when she’d first sat him down to ask her questions. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

She hoped that she’d finally get some answers from Sam, who rolled into the room a while later as the same cart from yesterday once she’d finished her tray of food. “Hey, Danny, good morning! How did you sleep?” 

“I’m…fine, thanks, Sam,” she grumbled. “So you’re gonna tell me what I’m supposed to be doing here, right?” 

“Well…look, Christopher’s just a little old-fashioned about that whole ‘working off your debt’ thing. It’s just a formality. My advice? Just ride it out for a month and then you can, y’know, be on your way and everything.” 

Irritation bristled across her skin. “So I’m not even supposed to do anything? Are you serious? Nathan’s going to be on his own for a month while I just sit here?” 

The rolling cart almost shrugged with the way its metal handle bent inward. “I mean, I guess I could have you clean something if you really wanted to, but I’ve kinda got things covered. We could do something fun instead.” 

“Fun?” she scoffed. “Yeah, sure. And what is there to do for fun around here, exactly?” 

“Well…” the cart moved a little back and forth, like someone rocking on the balls of their feet. “There’s all kinds of stuff in this house that the family’s collected over the years. Most of it’s just gathering dust now, but I’ve had plenty of time to familiarize myself with everything. I could show you around the place!” 

Danny wasn’t sure how something without a face or limbs could seem excited, but the cart seemed to give off such childish glee at the idea that she couldn’t stay irritated for long. She sighed. “I guess that wouldn’t be so bad. Sure, Sam.” 

Before she knew it, Danny was riding on top of the cart as it wheeled around the house, going down seemingly endless corridors as Sam gave Danny a personal, very detailed tour of every single painting, bust, and random piece of furniture they came across. Danny didn’t understand half of what Sam went on and on about, but she couldn’t find it in herself to interrupt their enthusiastic narration. There was something almost…calming about it, in a strange way.

Halfway through a monologue about a fancy fruit bowl’s significance in belonging to the ruler of a now-dead civilization, Sam stopped themselves. “Sorry,” they mumbled sheepishly. “I know I’m going on and on. I just haven’t had anyone to talk to like this in a while.”

Danny chuckled lightly. “No, you’re fine. I guess this beats cleaning floors.” She chewed idly on her bottom lip as she considered the rest of what Sam said. “Have you and Christopher…really been alone here? He doesn’t, like, invite people over or anything? No family?”

The cart began to roll down the hallway, although it moved at a much more somber pace than before. “Christopher’s parents died a long time ago. He doesn’t have any other family. And, well…you can imagine how hesitant most people are to visit the home of a giant.” 

The wind that whistled quietly outside sounded eerily like Sam sighing. “He’s been alone here for a long time.” 

“Sounds lonely as fuck,” Danny muttered. Sam didn't reply, but she could feel a silent weight to the air that felt like agreement. 

Her face scrunched up in confusion. “How did that even happen, anyways? Him being a giant? How does he like…get out and walk around?”

“Uh…somewhat complicated to answer, but the long and short of it is that Christopher can’t leave the house. It’s a…spell. The same one that makes it look small from the outside.”

Danny didn’t think she was going to get a better answer on why there was a giant living out in the middle of the woods. Her thoughts turned to something almost bordering sympathy—thinking of how miserable it must be to be stuck out here by yourself, not even able to leave your house. Even if your house was this massive and full of so many comforts most people could never dream of. From her perspective, already dwarfed by the smallest of things in it, the mansion started to seem…lonely. 

Her mind then turned to how such a thing would work on a practical level. “How does he get food, if he can’t leave the house? Do people, like, deliver stuff here?” 

Sam’s next pause somehow seemed a little more awkward than the ones before. “The kitchen is actually magically stocked. But, uh, giants don’t really need to eat food like most people do, so it’s a little useless unless we have guests. Like you!” 

So I’ve been eating…magical grapes? She shook her head, almost distracting herself from a stranger revelation. “He doesn’t need to eat at all?” 

“Nope.” 

“...huh.” Danny wasn’t exactly learned in science, but something about that notion didn’t make sense to her. “How is that even possible?” she asked the temporarily sentient trolley cart who she was riding on through the massive hallways of a magical, giant mansion. 

The cart shrugged as much as such a thing could. “Don’t ask me. That’s just how it works.”

After that, the conversation diverted to much more mundane things, and Sam became much more interested in explaining things not related to giants—like the identity of a heavily mustached man in a painting further down the hall, and the fabric that the rug beneath them was made of coming from some far-off land, and actually it was quite a funny story how the family came into possession of it, and it all started with a dispute over chicken ownership—

Danny listened along, even though she couldn’t help but feel as though there was something in the conversation earlier that Sam had tried to avoid—she just couldn’t figure out what. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

Sam's not done with the tour yet! Do you think they'd pass up an opportunity to force Christopher and Danny to interact? Just wait for next week's chapter 8, Judging by the Cover!

Thank you for reading!

#cursed cravings #itwom #itwom au #beauty and the beast au #gt writing #gt stories #vore writing #vore stories #gt vore #sfw vore #nonsexual vore

[rorywritesjunk]

Let's be one another's present tense

Buggy 'rescues' you from an abusive situation, and after a less than stellar introduction, he has you audition for his crew to keep you safe. You want safety, security, and joining a circus seems like the best idea. Rating: R-ish for now. Warning: First chapter has bruises and talks about abuse (not from Buggy), though Buggy has his explosive moments. There's an asshole much older ex-husband in this story. Swearing. Nose bonks. A/N: This has been sitting in my head as I worked it out for an Anon's request. I have been really intrigued by this and wanted it to be just right. Also, it gave me the chance to ask my circus obsessed friend about different routines and we bounced some ideas off each other. This is also a touch different than other things I've written, which is why I've been taking so long to work on it and get it posted. Enjoy! Title comes from "Crater Lake" by Lady Lamb.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 (NC-17) + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13

Chapter 1

“So we have a deal then?”

“Yes… yes, we have a deal.”

The clown pirate grinned at the old man sitting across from him. Buggy cheerfully cut a chunk out of the apple in his hand with his knife, tossing it into his mouth before he suddenly slammed the knife down onto the table, letting it stick into the wooden table top. The old man jumped while you flinched as you stood beside him. The bartering to keep the town safe from Buggy and his crew had finally finished and now it was just an uncomfortable time to be in the room.

Buggy looked at you and winked before he retrieved his knife, turning his attention back to the old mayor. “That your daughter there? She’s cute.” 

“No, she’s my wife.” He replied; Buggy had just taken a bite of the apple only to spit it out across the desk at the man in mock surprise. The man did his best not to react while you covered your mouth with a look of disgust on your face.

“Wife?” Buggy chuckled. “You have one foot in the grave and you’re married to someone who looks young enough to be your daughter?” He shook his head. “And people think pirates can be disgusting. They don’t really care what their local politicians are up to, do they?” Buggy took another bite of the apple, giving you a once over before he grinned. “Throw her into the deal.”

“I-I suppose we-” The mayor started but you cut him off.

“No, I’m not going with some disgusting pirate like you!” You snapped. “Who knows what you would do to me!”

Buggy locked eyes with you in that moment, the playful attitude gone and replaced with something you couldn’t quite figure out. He stood up and approached you, knife in one hand and apple in the other. The mayor just sat and watched, trembling in his seat, refusing to do anything to protect you. The captain smiled at you as the knife cut into the apple; you could hear the fruit cracking from the force of the knife, saw the juice spill over his fingers, soaking into his gloved hands.

“What did you say about my nose?” He asked, voice eerily calm as he tossed the bit of apple into his mouth. 

“I didn’t say anything about your nose.” You spat as you looked him up and down, crossing your arms. “Though I doubt I could say anything about it that you haven’t heard before.”

He smiled at that before raising the knife up and throwing it into the wall behind you. You turned to see where it landed but his hand was on your throat, backing you up to the wall and next to the knife. Buggy held you there for a moment, the smile disappearing as his hand tightened its hold on you. 

“You’ve got quite the mouth on you.” He murmured as you grabbed his hand with yours, trying to pull him off you. Buggy suddenly smirked and let go of you. “You’ll fit in with my crew. Though, I should warn you, every time you mouth off I cut off a bit of your tongue.”

You rubbed your throat, breathing heavily as you turned to your husband. “You’re… you’re just going to let him take me?!”

“He’ll destroy the town if I don’t!” The mayor wailed. “I can’t allow that to happen! Sa-Sacrifices have to happen!”

“I’m not a sacrifice!” You exclaimed as your hand went to where Buggy was just touching you. You felt… weird from that, never having been touched in that manner before. You were used to aggression, pain, fear. His touch was… strong but there didn’t seem to be malice, but more of a performance. He caused you discomfort but there wouldn’t be a bruise left on you from him that you could tell. You shook your head and looked back at Buggy. “What do you plan to do to me?”

“Target practice, maybe.” Buggy shrugged. “I got this new thing I wanna try where I cut off a volunteer’s clothes with my knife throwing, y’know. Getcha right where the seams of your clothes are and see if I can cut through them.” He looked you up and down as he reached out to touch the fabric of your blouse. “Though, this is nice fabric, I don’t know if I want to risk damaging it.”

You slapped his hand away before turning to slap your ‘husband’. He recoiled at your touch but you didn’t care. He had no issue giving you up to some dirty pirate like this. Sacrifice? You were not some animal to be led for slaughter, you were a person, and you would take out Buggy and his crew even if it killed you. As you turned to face Buggy, he was already at the door of the office, but a hand was in front of you, holding a small red ball. With a squeeze, red smoke burst out of it and everything went dark.

~

The rope around your wrists was tight, scraping and irritating your skin. You were groggy as you came to but you were on a soft surface, fabric rubbing against your cheek almost comfortingly as you tried to get your head to stop spinning and for the nausea to cease. It took a few minutes for you to recall what your last moments were. Slapping a hand, your ex-husband, and some kind of smoke. 

Oh shit you were captured by a pirate. A clown pirate with a bright red nose who was sensitive about it.

You moved your tongue around in your mouth, relieved that it was still whole. He didn’t cut it out yet, but was that empty threat or was he really going to do it? And what was he actually planning on doing with you? Stories often went around about pirates and what they were known to do to their prisoners, and you had heard many of them to give you some idea what to expect. Would he kill you after he was done with you, or would he kill you first and toss you into the sea to be food for the fishes and sea kings?

Heavy footsteps were approaching your room. You shut your eyes, hoping whoever it was would see you were asleep and would leave you alone. 

Except that was expecting too much. 

“Get up.” Buggy said as he walked over to the bed and grabbed the rope, pulling you into a sitting position. You glared up at him and he smirked, patting you on the cheek just enough to emit sound without the sting of a slap. “Rise and shine, cupcake. We need a new freak out there and you gotta earn your keep.”

“I will do no such thing.” You snapped as he pulled you up to your feet. Your body was still feeling the effects of the smoke and when you stood up you were off balanced, falling into him. To your surprise, he caught you, steadying you on your feet before he led you out of the room and down a walkway to another. You didn’t want to follow him, choosing to let your legs give out and falling to the floor. He stopped and turned to look at you.

“Really?” He shook his head and picked you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “You haven’t even had one performance and you’re already acting like a diva.” 

“Excuse me?!” You wriggled around, trying to get him to drop you, but he laid his hand over your back, steadying you as he walked. “Put me down now!”

“You seem to think you can tell me what to do, cupcake.” He chuckled as his hand slid from your back down to the top of your ass. Without warning he gave you a pinch, causing you to yelp in surprise. “You may have been that loser mayor’s wife, but here? You’re just another freak like us.”

He set you down in a chair and stood behind you. There was a mirror in front of you with lights all around it. You didn’t want to be looking in the mirror right then, seeing the bruises on your face, the black eye that was healing, or the cut on your cheek that was scabbing over. You shut your eyes and took a deep breath. What was this clown playing at?

“Now, we both know I didn’t do that to your face.” He murmured as he put both of his hands on your shoulders and leaned down towards you. “That old man did, didn’t he?” He touched the cut and you jerked away. “Weird, he seemed scared of you back there.”

“He was scared of you.” You hissed as you opened your eyes to glare at him. Buggy put his hand on your other cheek and you flinched, jerking backwards and nearly headbutting him. “Don’t touch me!”

“Cupcake, I just gotta do your makeup.” He told you calmly as he moved just in time from getting a bloody nose. “Cover up your battle scars, y’know. Can’t have the audience thinkin’ we rough up our performers here.”

You jerked again in your seat, trying to get out of reach of him. You didn’t want him touching you, speaking to you, or being near you. You didn’t want to go home but you didn’t want to be here. Why did this happen to you? 

“Red lipstick would look wonderful on you, y’know.” He murmured as he leaned forward, looking at your face. “Or maybe I just throw you out there and let me and Cabaji practice our knife act on you.” He grinned. “I don’t want to waste makeup on you if you’re going to start crying out there.”

“Fuck you!” You spat as you threw your head forward, colliding with his nose. He reared back, swearing loudly as he clutched it while you slumped in the chair, dazed. You didn’t think it would do anything but he fell to the ground on his ass, stomping his feet in pain from the hit.

“Agh, you bitch! Why there?!” He shrieked, covering it with his hand as he tried to breathe through the pain. “Fuck, is your head a cannon ball? It felt like being hit by one!”

You lifted your bound hands to your head, rubbing your forehead. You could say the same thing about him, but then again you didn’t make it a habit of headbutting strange men. Your head felt a little rattled from the attack and the sharp pain in your forehead was throbbing.

“I didn’t think I’d hit your nose!” You shot back as you shut your eyes in pain. “Fucking asshole!”

He gave your chair a kick before getting to his feet, cursing you, headbutts, and noses before storming out of the room and leaving you by yourself. Your head was still hurting and you wondered if you were going to have a new bruise to add to the collection, but at least this one was from self defense, and you'd do it again to him if you had the chance. 

“Fucking clown.” You sighed as you leaned back in your seat. You needed to figure out what was going to happen next.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc

[thewalkingwillowtree]

Safe Haven

Series Part Listing Found Here

Neteyam x Original Na'vi Female Character

Summery: Seeking refuge, Xilä and her father venture to the lands of the Omatikaya clan, in the hopes that the Toruk Makto would be generous in allowing them to stay. This is her story about not only finding her strength, but finding love. 

Warning: This story contains smut, violence & abuse (please don't read if these topics will affect you)

Some characters have been aged up. Neteyam in particular is 24.

Xilä is my own creation.

Warning! This part contains sensitive topics (one mention of miscarriage (not Xi) & Non-con touch)

~

Part 16- Li'ona

Scanning the interior of their home, Neteyam felt sick to his stomach. His eyes burned, prickling at the sight of its ransacked state.

It was almost disbelieving at first.

But reality slowly sank in with every passing glance as he stayed frozen at the threshold.

When bile finally threatened to make its way up his throat, he forcefully tore his gaze away from the crimson pool on the tapestry covered flooring. He didn’t want to think about where the blood came from- what caused it- or more importantly, whose it was.

None of it was real…right?

Please, Eywa.

Arriving back at Home Camp in an already frantic state, Neteyam had instantly noticed a change in the air. The energy was off- fear and panic replacing the usual calm peace of the Omatikaya clan. Ignoring it, along with the abnormal flurry of activities surrounding him, he’d hurriedly made his way straight for his tent, bypassing the clan members who lingered outside of his home in worry.

The sight he was greeted by caused him such utter distress, he almost collapsed, catching himself on a beam at the entrance- a heartbreaking cry of anguish falling from his lips.

Their mainroom was a scattered mess consisting of strewn cushions and blankets, torn and shredded tapestries and decor hangings, broken knickknacks that Xi had once carefully littered around their home. Baskets, chests, cracked clay bowls, pots and food sacks were all haphazardly knocked over- their contents either spilling out or completely missing.

Their personal food stock and quite a few other possessions were obviously stolen. The grand bamboo stand that housed his wide collection of weapons ranging from knives, daggers, specially crafted arrows and spears- was a splintered heap of broken pieces- all gone now, save a few smaller daggers.

And the bedroom- fuck…He wished he hadn’t mustered the strength to enter the space.

Their bedroom was just as bad- worse in his opinion.

It reeked of blood.

His little tech setup in the corner was completely destroyed- tiny parts smashed as if someone had a personal vendetta against the human-made devices.

And when he spotted the shredded strips of blankets stained crimson with a blood coated dagger abandoned between the sheets, his legs finally gave out- knees colliding hard with the floor beneath him.

Body shaking uncontrollably, a sob escaped him.

Why?

Tears of fury slowly stained his cheeks as his chin trembled.

Why?

It was too much.

Why?

He couldn’t do this.

WHY?

He was breaking- on the verge of hysteria.

WHY?

His mind screamed blame. It was all his fault.

Why did you leave her?

The knife.

What have you done?

The blood.

Look at all the fucking blood!

All him.

Why didn’t you kill him when you had the chance?

Gone.

She’s gone.

Xilä.

She needed you and now she’s gone.

He jumped when a hand of comfort squeezed his shoulder- breaking him from his spiralling thoughts.

“Come on son, up you get. Let’s- let’s take a breather from in here,” Jxo’s gravelly voice soothed.

Helpless, Neteyam allowed the elder to pull him to his feet, staggering in a daze as they made their way through the shambles of his home.

Once outside, he sucked in a much needed breath of fresh air. Air that wasn’t suffocatingly stifling him with its coppery fumes.

He collapsed again, sitting heavily this time onto the last of the stone steps- physically unable to make it any further. His head fell into the cradle of his palms, elbows digging into the tops of his thighs.

He sensed his father-in-law’s presence near him- knew he was probably giving him a moment to pull himself together. Neteyam felt it though, the worry and anxiety rolling off of Jxo in waves.

But how could he face the man? He’d failed his daughter- he’d failed Xilä.

“Jxo,” he eventually croaked, hands falling away as he tried to formulate a sentence. He swallowed hard to stifle another incoming sob. “Jxo, tell me she’s not- I- ” chin trembling, he shook his head in disbelief.

Was he going crazy?

Was this all some fucked up nightmare?

He made the mistake of looking up. Jxo’s distraught expression was all the confirmation he needed. The elder looked ragged and seemed to have aged even further in the short span of time Neteyam had last seen him.

Gaze softening, Jxo squeezed his shoulder again, crouching down to his level to face him head on. “Kid, listen to me, okay? We can’t fall apart, not right now. Our Xilä…she- she needs us,” the elder said, almost as if he were trying to convince even himself of his own words. “Yeah?”

“Y-yeah…yes, sir,” Neteyam nodded. He needed to hear those words. Jaw clenched, he forced himself to get a grip on his emotions. But the clear head he was searching for only intensified the swirling rage inside of him.

He wanted to scream.

To lash out.

To kill.

A voice calling out his name made them both get to their feet, expectantly. Jake strode towards them, brushing past a few onlookers- Gwuyle flanking him. The second-in-command barked at the growing crowd, making them clear the area, for which Neteyam was grateful.

He didn’t miss the subtle head shake Jake sent to Jxo however. He guessed that meant they hadn’t found his mate yet.

“Son are you-” The Olo'eyktan’s speech was cut off when his eldest shrugged his arm off, not wanting to be touched. Jake was expecting the reaction. The hurt and betrayed glare Neteyam sent him was justified. Lo’ak had already prepared him for the wrath to come. “Son I get that you’re upset, but-”

“Upset? Upset? Oh no, I think I'm more than goddam upset! She’s gone dad! My mate is GONE!” he screeched hysterically. “Tell me, exactly who’s bright fucking idea was it not to call me? Huh? Huh?”

Jxo pulled him back from advancing any further.

But Neteyam was too far gone.

He gestured to the open flap of his home, “Did you have a good look for yourself? Did you see? You must have seen what I saw…I don’t get it, sir. The moment you saw this you should have called me! You should’ve-” Neteyam sucked in a deep breath, wiping his palms down his face in not only frustration but utter despair.

His father-in-law murmured soft words that fell on deaf ears to the other two men, calming his temper in a way Jake wished he could in that moment.

He felt pained as he stared at his son, it was a parent's worst nightmare to see their child so distraught. It hurt him to see him so broken- unhinged to the point of feral. He exchanged an uncomfortable glance with Jxo who stood by Neteyam’s side. The elder was never in agreement with him, keeping Neteyam in the dark about Xilä.

“It was my call,” Jake admitted, owning up to his fault. “But you need to understand, there was a palulukan attack…two males managed to make it past the southern border- it seems they were leered. By the time we had it handled and found out about Xi, I- I thought we’d find her…you’re right, I should have called you. I know.”

His son’s shoulders slumped- the fight leaving him as he absorbed his father’s explanation. “Well shit. An attack? Was anyone hurt?” he asked, albeit a bit distractedly.

“At least twenty severely injured, a couple others not as bad…three deaths as far as we know. The healers have their hands full right now.”

Silence filled the atmosphere.

All four men internally digested the reality of the situation- the echoing of Jake’s words lingering in the air.

Neteyam pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes. “Okay. Okay- um, where are we with the search, sir?” He felt a stab of guilt for glossing over the attack, but there was only one thing on his mind right now, and that was finding his wife. He’d have to process everything else some other time.

“We’ve got twelve units still out searching- your mother has a team headed to the Hallelujah Mountains. Each of the border points are being covered as every tent, shack, shed and lab gets inspected- every nook and cranny will be searched. Lo’ak’s with Norm at the labs as we speak. They're checking the inferred maps hoping we could pick up on any unusual activity- the bad news with that is it only covers our territory. We’re trying to find some sort of trace for the direction they went before we move the search past the borderlines of the forest. Messengers were also sent to the nearest clans to keep a lookout.”

“Li’ona. That’s where he’s taking her. That’s where we need-”

“We don’t know that for sure, do we?”

“Exactly and why would he even go there? Don’t those savages want them dead?” Gwuyle frowned.

“Yes, but T'shteyo has threatened to take Xi back to Li’ona with him- she said he wants to return to his title.”

Gwuyle, Jake and Jxo shared matching grim expressions.

“What?” Neteyam asked, reading their body language all too well. “What are you not telling me?”

“You know Stephan right?”

“The weird techie?” Neteyam frowned at his father.

“Yeah…he’s missing, well his Avatar body that is. And so too that old RDA aircraft he used to fiddle around with,” Jake admitted uncomfortably. “It’s not like him to be gone for so long… We believe T'shteyo may have taken him hostage. Max is trying to get communication running with the ship to confirm.”

Neteyam scoffed disbelievingly. He wanted to cry all over again. “Are you saying…are you saying they’re flying in an aircraft as we speak….and you’re only fucking telling me this now?!” he seethed, taking a step forward, shaking off the Jxo’s hand from holding him back.

“Watch your tone son,” Jake snapped.

“Look, Teyam, we don’t know this for sure, okay? But we will find out…I thought he was just a primitive bastard, it seems we’ve all misjudged T'shteyo. I know I have,” Gwuyle said, trying to ease the tension. “I’m going to head back and see if there’s been any updates. Call me if you have any news, Jake.”

When it was just the three of them left, Neteyam hung his head. “I should have killed him. I-”

Jake stepped forward and hugged his son. Neteyam resisted at first but it didn’t take much coaxing before he sagged against his dad, accepting the much needed comfort.

“I can’t begin to understand what you are feeling right now, but I need you to know, we are going to do everything possible to get Xilä back.”

~

“Neteyam. Jake,” Max greeted when they entered the link shack. The scientist sent a respectful nod to Jxo when he saw him follow them in as well.

“Anything yet? Stephan?” Jake asked, eyes immediately locking with the link unit that housed Stephan’s human form.

“Unfortunately no. Since the assumption is that he’s most likely piloting, we don’t want his Avatar shutting down right now. His vitals are all over the place though- he’s injured,” Max informed them, showing them the rapidly moving numbers and lines on the clear glass screen bedside the bed, “head wound, probably concussed.”

The room fell silent as they all took in the scientist's information.

“Well shit,” Lo’ak said, breaking said silence as he and Norm made their way over to the group from the connected lab.

“GPS? Where are we with that?”

Max grimaced. “It’s definitely busted. Greta over there is trying to see what she can do, and Phillip here, is trying to reactivate the chip that was once embedded in all the Avatars- if all else fails.”

“Chip?” Jxo frowned.

“Microchip. We can track Stephan if we’re able to reactivate it-”

“What is taking so long then?” Neteyam asked impatiently. He hated standing around. He felt like they were losing time. “I know where they are going already! Back to Li’ona, I don’t see why any of this matters. Why can’t we just go?” he asked his father for the second time.

“I can maybe answer that,” Norm replied quickly as glided on a wheeled stool. “Come check this out you guys,” he said, furiously typing on a keyboard.

A large holographic map appeared and Neteyam instantly recognized it as the same one Norm had shown him and Xi before.

“Li’ona is massive okay? Not the clan per say, but the land they occupy. It’s called D’asanii I know,” he said, nervously glancing at the menacing looking, arms folded Jxo, who was looming over him, “but we named it Little Aussie- as in it’s almost the freakin’ size of Australia,” he emphasized, widening the map so they’d see for themselves. “But the Deadlands in particular is where we have the trouble.”

“I do not see the issue here. Our lands are far larger, what about the Metkayina, they own most of the seas, no? You have found them easily before, and even other clans, your lot have done hundreds of studies on Pandora for Eywa sake! What is so different? Are you honestly telling me that none of our people know how to find their clan?! Do we have all this technology for nothing?! How about our elders? Have none of them ever ventured that far?”

Norm made a noise in the back of his throat as he shifted his feet uncomfortably. “Bud. I get it, and you’re right. But unfortunately we don’t have that information right now. I did thorough research when I was investigating the rains. We just don’t have it…Xi couldn’t even point out where on the map her clan could possi-”

“They are not her clan!” Neteyam roared.

“No- no, of course not,” Norm pacified quickly, nervously shooting Jake a pleading glance.

“Neteyam-”

“I’m sorry. I'm sorry. Just- just finish what you were saying,” he said tiredly, forefinger and thumb working at his temple.

“Look, all I’m saying is, I get that we’re in a time crunch here. I do- but…we don’t even know where to begin to start looking. If we can just wait to get a ping from either the GPS or the Microchip- we’d have something to work with instead of blindly going past the borders to search.”

“It would help yeah but technically we wouldn’t even need it,” Lo’ak pitched in. “If Stephan wakes before then, he could easily tell us what we need to know…what we’re up against.”

“Sure but do we even know for sure if it’s Li’ona they’re actually heading t-” Max caught himself, swallowing deeply before muttering a quiet apology when Neteyam cut him with a glare.

“I told you all already…it’s Li’ona! He’s taking her there. Why do I feel like I am the only one thinking logically right now?! You’re all fucking over complicating things!” Neteyam barked, patience wearing thin. “Standing around and spewing a shit ton of jargon that’s not doing anything to help the situation. Let me and a team head out for now, you can always direct us from there and we’d have covered significant grou-”

“No.”

All eyes turned to the Olo'eyktan.

“Neteyam. I know this is the last thing you want to hear,” Jake said, eyes pleading for his son to understand, “but they’re right about this. We need to be smart about the moves we’re making right now. We need intel.”

“Think about Xilä, bro,” Lo’ak chimed in, trying to help out, unaware that his words did more harm than good.

“Don’t you dare,” Neteyam seethed. “She is all I am thinking about!” he hissed. “I need-” he stepped back, the faces of the men gathered around turning blurry. “None of you could possibly understand what I am going through right now…none! And I am this close from blowing my fuse. So I am going to step away before I say, or do something I regret.”

~

“Listen you barbaric lunatic, I am telling you, if you do this, they’ll kill you, alright? Jake and Neteyam won’t let you get away with this. You're as good as dead. Just-” Stephan sighed tiredly, “just let me drop you off somewhere, dude. I’ll take Xilä back and convince them not to come after you. Can you- OWW shhhiiit!” The man’s speech was cut short when he was clobbered on the back of his head.

The junk of a ship they were currently being flown in, dipped, rocking shakily before it stabilized once more when Stephan scrambled to adjust a few settings on the holographic dashboard.

“Jesus fucking Christ! You fucking psycho! I am trying to safely fly us in an already unstable aircraft right now! An aircraft that requires not one, but two goddam pilots! Do you really want to kill the only person on board who can operate this hunk of junk! Hit me again. Hit me, I dare you, fucker. I swear to God I’ll crash us right now!” Stephan threatened, tail thrashing angrily behind him. “I'm pretty sure I’m already concussed from when you knocked me unconscious.”

T'shteyo, “the fucker” who had hit him, paid the dreamwalker no mind. “You talk too much,” he complained, dropping himself into a seat with a pained grunt.

Fiddling with a small pouch of highly scented medicinal herbs, a needle and thread and a damp strip of fabric, he began to tend to his still bleeding shoulder.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Stephan who shot him a smug look. “Xilä fucked up up real bad, huh? Broken nose, face scratched to shit, and icing on top of the cake- stab wound.”

“Quiet!”

Stephan snorted with a shake of his head. “Your own daughter stabbed you…don’t you think that’s messed up?”

“I said, SHUT UP.”

The silence lasted barely five minutes before Stephan was blabbering again- although he did specifically wait until T'shteyo had begun to sew himself up.

“So, I get that you want to go back to Li’ona, but uh, why? The rumor mill said you were a wanted dead man over there. Why the change of heart?” the Avatar asked, trying to gain as much information from the man so he could report back if he had the opportunity.

He grinned at the pissed off look on the Li’ona male’s face. “Come ooon dude. You’re going to kill me anyway right? Who am I going to tell?”

“Do you ever stop speaking?”

“I promise I will…if you answer me. Scouts honor,” he said, holding up three of his four fingers, confusing T'shteyo even further. Stephen found it somewhat amusing that the bastard was now staring at him as if he were the lunatic.

“I am going to reclaim my title.”

Stephan stifled his surprise that he actually got a response. “Cool, cool, cool. Leadership shit. I get it……But see not really, why not just go? I mean, why’d you have to drag your kid back with you?” he pushed again, mentally crossing all his fingers and toes.

“She gets me the title.”

“Oooo-kay…how?”

“Su’ko wants her.”

“Su’ko?”

T'shteyo begrudgingly told him about man, and all the while Stephan had to hide his disgust over the fact that was another psychopath out there just like the fucker, next to him.

This had him shifting uncomfortably now. Quickly glancing at the man seated in the pilot's chair beside him he hesitantly asked, “So this Su’ko wants her?” he swallowed. “Wants her for what?”

“His whore or slave…whichever.”

The Avatar clenched his teeth to keep from saying something he’d regret- to keep from messing up the progress he’d made so far.

“What’d she ever do to you?” he couldn’t help asking, voice far softer than the faux carefree one he’d been forcing before. “Why would you do this to her? She’s just a kid.”

“Enough!” T'shteyo roared. In a flash the tip of his knife met Stephan’s throat, threateningly sinking deep enough to draw blood.

Stephan froze, both hands held up in surrender. “Alright! Alright. Chill out man, I’m done.”

“Show me again!”

“I will just- will you drop the fucking knife, I can’t think.” He released a loud breath when T'shteyo sank back into his seat.

“Show me!”

“Okay, hold on, I’m getting it…Here- see, still on track for Li’ona,” the Avatar said, pulling up a screen on the dashboard that showed the small diagram of a map of Pandora and the illuminated coordinates they were currently heading to.

He was damn sure T'shteyo couldn’t read an ounce of English or even “human numbers” but it didn’t mean he was stupid. The asshole had enough sense to explain where he wanted to go, even showing him on the map what routes to take.

“Good,” the psycho grunted.

Stephan let the silence run for well over an hour this time before he tried to speak again.

“So that last question I asked- about Xilä…that was my final question. I swear I’ll shut up if you answer...colour me curious as to why a father would do this to his own blood…To what would drive a man to such decisions.”

T'shteyo unseeingly sighed as if he were a mother dealing with a petulant child, it was almost comical, given the situation. “What does it matter to you, why? I am going to kill you anyway. It serves you no purpose.”

“Well,” the Avatar laughed depressingly, “all the more reason right? If I’m dead, who am I going to tell? Think of it as my death gift.”

The Li’ona male stared out at the flashing sea of greenery below them as he considered the man’s question. He surprised Stephan for the second time when he actually responded.

“She is the product of hate…Xilä is- she is a constant reminder of the woman I once called, my mate…she,” he inhaled, “looks exactly like her,” he whispered, “beautiful, fair…but poisonous.”

“Poisonous?”

T'shteyo grunted a yes before continuing, “Muiä.” He snorted, “fair…Odd that she was nothing like the meaning of her name. There was nothing fair about Muiä besides her appearance, I suppose.”

“What was she really like then?”

“She was a coward…and before that, she was a constant nag…and a whore. Nothing ever made her happy- no matter what I did…Her father was Olo'eyktan before me. I fought. I won. It was me!

“Me, who claimed her. Me who claimed my rightful title. But it was she who was my downfall… She, who loved another…I never had her heart. I tried, I did everything…anything! But in doing that, she made me soft, weak.”

T'shteyo’s face turned stony, darkening at whatever memory haunted him.

“And then I found them. Together….Still? Even when she was already mine! They were planning to run away together,” he laughed maniacally, “....so I killed him…I killed her fucking lover. Strung him up for all to see that I was not to be trifled with. After that she learned her place, or at least I thought so.

“She behaved for a few years…and then Xilä eventually came along. I thought I did good, I thought she was finally happy. We were a family. But no. Even a child didn’t make the bitch happy……She still left. She still left me. Muiä’s out there, probably cursing my name as we speak. I should have strung her up with her lover…missed opportunity I suppose,” he mused.

Stephen, who was silent the entire time, too stunned to speak, swallowed deeply. Feeling disturbed, he adjusted a few settings on the dashboard, before responding shakily.

“So,” he cleared his throat, “so, you’re punishing Xilä…because- because you couldn’t punish your wife? Xilä has to pay?” Stephan frowned, not understanding, angry at himself for feeling a sliver of pity for the psychotic man next to him.

T'shteyo shrugged lazily. “If you put it that way…Now shut up. The next time you speak, I cut off your tongue.”

~

When Xilä had first woken to find herself curled in a corner of a strange, rocking room, she was a loopy, drooling mess. It took her almost two hours to gain her bearings and sit up, and another one to even stand on shaking legs.

The small rocking room had a large window. When she’d finally made her way to it, she released a ragged choking scream.

It was all coming back now.

The attack.

The stabbing.

The syringe.

The screams.

LI’ONA.

She was already scared and confused, but now- finding herself being flown away…she began to hyperventilate.

Li’ona! Her father was taking her back to Li’ona.

No!

Thumping steps alerted her that someone was coming.

Xilä turned feral the second T'shteyo entered the small space. With what little strength she had, she clawed and lashed out at the man who had taken her from her home- the man she called father.

It was no use however, one hurtling blow had her crumbling into a whimpering heap once more.

In a daze, she barely felt herself being dragged through a short narrow tunnel, until she faintly heard the furious and raged shouts of an unfamiliar voice.

“No! You’re going to kill her! If you give her that amount, she’ll be dead in seconds, you sick fu-”

Xi most definitely knew she imagined the howl of pain from her father being struck by someone else- the rocking room spinning the world away- body sliding along the cold metal flooring.

A muted scuffle of two blurring blue shapes played out before her while a trickle of liquid slowly flowed down her cheek, drops tickling the corner of her mouth.

“Blood,” she vaguely thought when the droplet found her tongue.

She didn’t fight when her father came near- she didn’t fight when he pricked her neck with another one of those lab darts- mind swimming as she felt that floating feeling again.

And she didn’t fight it when she felt herself sink into the darkness- head lulling until she went still.

~

“How’s Sal?” Neteyam asked hoarsely, eyes avoiding the abandoned meal in his lap. His mother had forced it into hands two hours ago and yet, it remained untouched. He couldn’t eat.

How could he?

He felt like a shell of a man.

Practically numb- void of feeling anything but simmering anger.

“Not good,” Jxo replied. “Wrecked. There’s no consoling her right now...D’av-” he cleared his throat, “D’avi’s with her, doing what she can.”

How could Neteyam possibly respond to that?

“You know, she’s always wanted another child…damn near almost did…three times. It wasn’t meant to be I suppose…But then you came that night, told us all about Xi, said she needed a safe place to stay, and I knew- I saw it in Sal’s face that night. And when you brought her the next day, well, that just sealed the deal. She was going to be ours, no matter what.”

Neteyam stared at Jxo’s profile. “I remember you told me that I had no clue what I did for Sal…”

Jxo nodded. “You brought home our second chance- a daughter. I don’t exactly know how to explain it, or if it even makes sense at all or if…but I felt it. I feel it in my soul. Not at first- not like Sal, but over time, some days I’d look at her and I’d- I’d feel the same way I did with my D’av. It felt like she was mine. My kid.”

“It makes sense, Jxo. It does…She felt it too, you know. It scared her. She didn't want to get attached. She’d- Xi told me once she pretended sometimes. Pretended you and Sal were her parents…she’d laugh it off and say she was just being silly. Then I’d see the three of you together and I knew she didn’t have to worry. She didn’t have to pretend.”

Jxo released a hushed laugh, covertly brushing away an escaped teardrop. “Ah that kid…” he cleared his throat. “She’s coming home, son. She is.”

Neteyam nodded mutely, head falling backwards, landing with a THUMP against the metal railing of the Link Shack’s staircase. He was reclined on a step, mindlessly staring out whatever he could see of the clan.

He’d been seated there for probably hours now. No one had disturbed at him at first except his mother. The others were too scared to be on the receiving end of another one of his outbursts he supposed.

Upon her arrival back from her search, Neytiri tenderly kissed his forehead, sad eyes conveying all meaning as she handed him a simple wrapped meal before heading through the door behind him.

Jxo came out a half hour ago to keep him company. Both sitting in silence until Neteaym had broken it by asking about his mother-in-law.

“How are you holding up, son? And don’t give me that bullshit you’ve been giving your mother. I want the truth.”

A small smile graced Neteyam’s lips, falling away just as fast. “The truth…”

“Can’t keep it all bottled up. It’s going to eat you alive.”

“I think I’m falling apart, but I know I need to hold it together…I’m pissed…and angry…at everyone. She needed our help, and we weren’t- I’m mostly angry at myself though…If I had just been here, Jxo. If I hadn't left…” he squeezed his eyes shut. “And now,” he continued, puffy, red rimmed gaze peering at his father-in-law, “we’re doing nothing. Nothing, just- just sitting here while she-”

Fists balled on top his thighs, Neteyam shook in fury- emotions rolling and changing in waves.

“Li’ona, we need to head for Li’ona and no one is fucking listening to me! We’re wasting time, Jxo. Anything could be happening to her right now. I try not to let my imagination and fears run wild, but God-”

He rubbed his face, head bowed in distress.

“And they won’t let me leave! They won’t let me try! Why won’t you let me try? It’s been so long now, Jxo. I- I just want her home. I want her safe…So, no. I’m not holding up at all,” he finished.

Almost six hours ago he had tried and failed to make his way out of the clan. When he’d left the labs after his last outburst, he’d had enough. He was tired of waiting. He was going to get his woman dammit.

But Gwuyle had stopped him at the border- had called his father as if he were some rebellious teenager trying to sneak out.

And they did come for him- Jake and Jxo, both saying words of comfort or maybe trying to tell him it was dangerous and why he shouldn’t go alone- that it wasn’t safe- he didn’t know. He didn’t hear a lick of it.

So now here he was.

Waiting.

After another hour of sitting in silence with Jxo, a cry of, “Holy shit!” got their attention. Both men scrambled as a commotion of chatter and activity echoed behind them.

Inside, the link shack, and the open floor of the labs it was joined with, was a frantic mess of human, Avatar and Na’vi bodies, and there, surrounded, was Stephan.

He was awake. Sat up on his open link unit, the scrawny human man with slightly greying hair and an odd mustache was choking back water as if he were dying of thirst.

Neteyam hadn’t had very much interaction with the technician before. He knew the man could be a bit…much sometimes, knew he was an eccentric, “curses like a sailor”, herb smoking genius.

Making his way to the front of those gathered, he tried to tame his impatience. Just when he was about to launch into questions, Stephan beat him to it- turning the room silent as he spewed words a mile a minute.

“That fucker is a goddam, motherfucking psychopath! He’s got me flying to Li’ona of all places. We’re stopped for the night right now near the Johkadah crater. I managed to get him to stop under the guise that the ship was overheating- which it was, piece of crap,” he muttered, “It’s going to be eclipse soon though and the dummy still wants us to push through- he’s lucky we even have the fuel,” he said, reaching for the tablet in Max’s hands, punching a few buttons.

“You guys should thank me, call me the asshole whisperer if you will. I got that idiot to tell me shit you’d never believe. He told me where their village is- two clicks from the border of the Dead Forest- north east. That’s where we’re heading. He’s got a hoard load of shit with him too- food, weapons, medicine.”

His eyes met Neteyam’s amongst the people surrounding him. “He’s trading her- Xilä, for his title…this Su’ko fucker or whatever- leader of the savages who overthrew him- he’s giving her to him…It’s not good.”

Neteyam clenched his jaw, suddenly unable to speak. He felt his mother’s arms wrap around him as he processed the techie's words.

“Xilä?” Jxo asked. “Is she injured? There was blood all over the place.”

The scrawny man nodded, “I tried, but he won’t let me go near to check on her…from what I’ve seen, she’s banged up but the good news is, I’d bet most of that blood you found was T'shteyo’s. She stabbed him, broke his nose…she did real good. Real badass, if you ask me. When she woke up for the first time, she fought hard- but he drugged her again, stuck with a sedative. I had to fight him when he…almost overdosed her.”

The link shake grew quiet.

“He drugged her? Where’d he even get that shit?” Lo’ak asked, wide-eyed. “The labs?”

“Nah, took ‘em off the Doc who tended to him after he got the crap beaten out of him. Apparently they had to keep him under most of the time.”

“Stephan, can you stall him where you are right now? We can make it to the crater in a day or two,” Jake interrupted.

Stephan nodded. “I can try, but I don’t think it’ll do any good. I pushed him too far I think, he’s been wanting to cut off my tongue,” he shared with a shudder. “I can’t stay too long. I don’t think he knows I can communicate with you guys, but I also don’t want him to figure it out if he tries to wake my Avatar and thinks I'm dead. You lot need to hurry the fuck up and come get us, yeah?”

“That’s the plan,” the Olo'eyktan responded in agreement.

“Oh right, wait there’s something else,” Stephan mumbled as he quickly began to stuff his mouth with the meal an assistant handed him. “The ship keeps sending me these warnings…the place we’re headed to, the heat readings are off the fucking chart. So, if I can’t stall- if we end up there…prepare yourself. Loincloths or a Tee and cargo shorts,” he said, gesturing to Norm’s Avatar appearance, “aren’t going to cut it.”

“Okay, good to know, thanks. Max, Norm talk to him- I want that GPS up and running,” Jake ordered. “You’re doing a hell of a job brother, thank you,” he said before stepping away from the crowd as he paged Gwuyle, immediately giving instructions for their warriors to assemble.

When Stephan was finished and began getting ready to lay back into the machine, Neteyam approached him before Max could close it.

“Stephan…thank you, for-”

“Hey man, nah, it’s no biggie…your girl, she’s real tough shit…she’ll be home soon.”

Neteyam nodded. “You too brother.”

“I’d call dibs to kill T'shteyo, but something tells me there’s a line,” Stephan joked.

Neteyam followed his gaze around the room, finding Jxo, Lo’ak and his mother who were in deep conversation- plans being set in motion. Spider was there too, now showing Norm and two lab technicians something on a map as they all seemed to be nodding in agreement.

Gwuyle strode in just then, flanked by a fierce looking Leati and two council members.

“There’s a line alright,” Neteyam nodded. “Keep an eye on her for me, will you?”

“I’ll do my damn best,” Stephan assured just before the link bed closed shut with a beep.

Lo’ak made his way over. “You ready, bro?”

“Fuck yes…my lucky dagger suddenly has a date with two pieces of shit.”

“Two?”

“Oh yeah, I also want the one they call, Su’ko.”

~

Xi squinted from the harsh, red tinged glare when the door of the ship opened. She huddled further into the blanket wrapped around her when the sting of the brutal weather hit her.

Li’ona.

It had only taken them a few days of constant travel by the human-made flying contraption.

She frowned at a tied up and unconscious Stephan whose body slumped in his seat. T'shteyo had knocked him out with a heavy handed swing and Xilä prayed that he wasn’t dead and was back home, safe.

“It’s not too late to leave…please don’t do this,” she pleaded when she saw T'shteyo’s fleeting pause of hesitancy as he stared out at the vast lands- his lower face completely hidden by cloth.

“Don’t,” her father hissed, tugging on the end of the rope that kept her hands bound- making her cry out as the ties sank deeper into her skin. “One more peep out of you and I swear I’ll rip your tongue out…Understood?”

She nodded mutely, head bowed in submission.

With another forceful jerk of the rope, he led them onwards- towards the empty ruins of a land.

She had no choice but to begrudgingly follow- hissing the moment they stepped onto the dry land. The ground was scorching beneath her booted feet. Even T'shteyo released a surprised grunt when his own covered heels left the cool platform of the ship.

Xi didn’t know if it was because she’d been gone for so long or what, but somehow it seemed worse than before. The air was sweltering- blisteringly sweltering. It was almost difficult to breathe through the cloth covering her mouth and nose.

T'shteyo’s long strides forced her to practically sprint to keep up.

The journey was long and grueling. Xilä cried silent tears the further they travelled. She wanted to go home. She wanted her husband.

Sweat soaked her head to toe, parched lips begging for water. Whenever she began to lag, her father would pull on the tie, causing her to trip a few times, uncovered palms burning painfully when she tried to catch herself from falling face first on the scorching ground.

Xilä couldn’t tell whether it had been minutes, hours or days. She followed blindly, feeling somewhat feverish and delirious- and not just from the heat. Whatever foreign liquid he’d pierced her skin with, she was sure had left her with lingering effects.

Travelling through the barren lands, uprooted painful memories she thought she’d successfully stifled. She had failed though, because it was when they’d finally come across a familiar and horrifying landmark, her eyes began to water again.

That high and sharp jutting rock not only meant that they were near their destination, but it was also a reminder of the danger she was in- of the savageness of the people here- savageness far worse than her own father.

Kayoanaska was what they called that place. It was where they’d string up the treacherous- anyone who betrayed or were disloyal to the clan were strung up and left for dead. And with roaming, wild deadland beasts- not even a corpse would be left.

When they drew closer to the settlement that was once called her home, Xi’s brows puckered in confusion.

Where were the guards? Where was…anyone?

Entering the village was like walking through a shadow of the past. What was once a busy but suffering village- was now empty…abandoned… eerie.

Poorly constructed structures were either half collapsed or completely disintegrated- the brutality of the dust filled wind and weather having done great damage to what was left.

Xi wished she could have felt an ounce of sympathy for those who suffered here, but like she had told Neteyam so long ago, there was nothing left in her heart for them. They’d brought it upon themselves.

T’shteyo spun in a circle as he too seemed to be looking for signs of life. He snarled at the ruins of his home. What had they done to it?!

They didn’t have to wait very long before life soon found them. Both stilled when the ground suddenly began to shake. For a split second Xi thought it may have been a land quake, but then she spotted them.

Just in the distance, clouded by a storm of red dust, was a group of hooded figures. Cloaks flying behind them as they rode fast on their massive and terrifying beasts- the beasts who she knew reeked of decaying flesh.

Xi grew tense when they pulled to a stop some feet away. She gulped when the armed, hooded figures from her nightmares dismounted their skeletal, half dead creatures with ease.

They closed the distance on foot.

It was easy to recognize Su’ko. He was front and center, flanked by ten others. But it was the faux grand spear he wielded that told her exactly who he was. That spear had once belonged to her father when he was Olo'eyktan.

Four men broke away, rounding behind Xi and T'shteyo, effectively blocking them from any form of escape.

“T'shteyo…you actually returned,” Su’ko sneered in mock fascination from beneath the cloth covering his face- soulless piercing eyes crinkling with mirth. “You are far braver than I gave you credit for, fool…I admit…I have lost a wager then,” he snickered, making a few of the others chuckle in amusement also.

“Su’ko,” her father grunted in greeting, glare set on the man who’d cost him his title. “What have you done to my clan? My village! Where are my people!”

“Ahhh…so many, My’s. You forget they no longer belong to you…but fret not. They are safe. Sheltered. Loyal to me now since I did what you could not do, brother. I did what you were not willing to do.”

“Enough!” her father roared.

Xilä knew he hated to be undermined more than anything. Being perceived as weak was indeed her father’s greatest weakness.

“Fine then,” Su’ko agreed with a nudge of his head. “Why don’t you show us the gifts you’ve brought with you?” he gleamed, head tilting to roam over Xi’s hidden form appreciatively.

T'shteyo dropped the overstuffed sack he’d been painfully carrying to the ground- dust momentarily clouding around their feet before clearing away. “One of many,” he said, “food, clean water, weapons, medicine…just like you asked.”

Su’ko gave an ordering hoot, and at once, one of his men stepped forward to inspect the loot. He offered a fat water skin to his leader, who jerked his head at the man.

Picking up on Su’ko’s hesitation, Xi’s father growled a deep angry snarl. “It is not poisoned! If I wanted you dead I’d go about it very differently!”

But the leader was not deterred, glare still fixed on his underling standing in the center.

Hesitantly, the man uncapped the skin and drank, and drank…and drank. Xilä knew that feeling all too well- that first taste of clean fresh water. The sweet sweet, tear jerking taste. She remembered waking up in Mo’at’s tent like it was yesterday- her first time experiencing it. She remembered wanting to beg for more…but she never had to beg.

“That’s enough!” Su’ko roared, grabbing the waterskin away. He released the cloth from his lower face, baring his teeth in a sinister smile before drinking his full until the bag went empty. Grin wide and happy, he said, “You did good T'shteyo, very good…where’s the rest of it?”

“No. My title,” her father demanded. “You don’t get anymore. The rest is mine. I decide who gets what…don’t make me repeat myself.”

Su’ko raised a brow at his tone but said nothing.

A stifling silence filled with murderous glares prolonged until Su’ko broke it with humored huff. There was absolutely nothing funny to laugh at however, especially when his attention turned towards Xilä.

Despite the unbearable heat, a cold sweat rippled through Xi’s body as her breathing became erratic.

“Have it your way then, brother, if you must. But won’t you at least show off the most important thing you’ve got hiding behind you?” he asked, making all eyes focus on Xilä now.

“Did you not hear me? I want my title!”

“Now, now T'shteyo,” Su’ko said in a mocking tone, “The deal was, I get the girl and you get the title…so unless we no longer have a deal…” he sang, lips twitching tauntingly.

“No wait…wait…” T'shteyo tugged hard on Xi’s bindings, causing her to stumble forward. “Your whore…as promised.” He tossed the end of the rope which Su’ko caught with ease.

With a pleasurable groan, he yanked Xilä towards him, cupping her throat to give her a warning squeeze when she tried to resist him.

“Aww, be calm Petal,” he cooed as he pulled down her face covering. “She is wounded,” he spat in fury, gipping her trembling jaw tightly to twist her head to his liking. “I told you to deliver her unharmed!”

“Yeah, well the bitch put up a fight. You have her. She’ll heal,” T'shteyo said nonchalantly, making Xilä whimper in defeat.

“Ahh, I see…So she’ll need a bit of training, hmm? Doesn’t know how to behave just yet,” he cooed again, scarred face stretching into an ugly grin.

Xilä grimaced, holding her breath when he pulled her up onto her toes to lick a stripe across her uninjured cheek, putrid breath clogging her senses.

“Mmmmm, even better than the water,” he whispered for only her to hear. “Oh yes…yes, yes, yes. She will do just fine,” he said, releasing her, binding the end of the rope to the sheath tethered to his hip.

T'shteyo cleared his throat, jerking his head at the spear in Su’ko’s free hand, expectantly.

“Ahhh…the title…hmmm. Here’s the thing, old friend. There’s a little hitch in the plan,” he sang in faux sadness, eyes still roaming over Xilä’s petrified face.

She whimpered, struggling against his hold when he pulled her close to openly inhale her sweet scent, nosing along her hairline, down her cheek, tucking into her hood to sniff along her jaw and neck.

“No- don’t, please don’t,” she whimpered, tears stinging her eyes when his hand pushed through her cloak to trail up her hip, rough fingers palming at the exposed skin of her waist.

“What fucking hitch?! We had a deal you bastard!” T'shteyo roared, bringing Su’ko’s attention back to him.

“Did we?” Su’ko pondered sarcastically, “Hmm, either way-” he continued calmly- his cool tone contradicting the tense moment, “I thank you for your generous gifts, but you see, I seem to have had a change of heart. I have decided that I will be keeping the title.”

T'shteyo howled angrily, expletives rolling off his tongue as he advanced towards Su’ko, knives drawn and ready to strike.

But he did not get very far…

Su’ko laughed at his actions and turned away without care, storming back in the direction of the beasts that were waiting for them, dragging his prize along by the rope tethered to him.

As he refastened his face covering, he called out, “You may kill him now!”

Xilä pulled on her bindings, looking back in horror to watch as four men advanced on T'shteyo. He fought hard against his attackers, but they were quick to overpower him. Guttural screams echoed through the empty air as they brutally began to beat him.

“T-traitors! Cowards! Ev-ery fucking one of you! Weak b-bastards!” her father cried in agony.

“Wait!” Su’ko ordered, making the warriors cease their vicious actions. “I changed my mind…He does not deserve a quick death.”

The hooded men hooted in delight.

Su’ko peered down at a sobbing Xilä, “What do you think, Petal? How should we kill him? Hm?”

Without making her respond, he instead grinned at the sight of the crumpled heap of a man who was rocking and wailing in pain.

“It is settled then…Kayoanaska awaits. We string him up instead!”

~

The sound of retching filled the air and the putrid stench of bile caused Su’ko to grimace at his newly acquired gift.

A few of Xilä’s braids had gone loose, strands of hair sticking to her sweat slicked face as she doubled over for another heaving round, completely draining the contents of her already empty stomach.

Her father was dead…well not yet, but he was as good as. It was only a matter of time. Whether it was the heat or starvation…or the deadland beasts who’d most likely get to him first.

She’d seen them do it. Seen them strip him of his weapons before binding him to the jagged high rock, feet dangling in the air as he sobbed and begged for mercy. She’d heard his gut wrenching cry for her to help him as she wrestled and fought against the hold of her new capturers.

But he’d done this to them.

There was nothing she could do, and Xi hated him for it. She hated herself for still not wanting him dead. And as much pain and hurt he had inflicted upon her all the years of her life, as much as she still loathed him in that very moment for releasing her into the hands of monsters, she could never- Stop.

He deserved it…didn’t he?

“Disgusting shit! Send in someone to deal with this mess. I was promised a woman to fuck, not this infected, disease bearing flea!”

Su’ko sent her one last scornful glare before storming out of the small alcove he had shackled her in.

They were underground- a short ride’s journey from where the village once was. It was a dim, low ceiling cave which had probably been created overtime due to the many quakes the land had experienced. Or at least she thought so-

Xilä hadn’t gotten a proper look of it yet- she was too busy trying not to fall as Su’ko dragged her by the wrists through a sea of onlookers- clan members hissing and cursing at her as he paraded his new whore around.

They’d reached out cruel hands- hands that yanked off her hood, tugged at her braids and queue and snatched off the boots that covered her blistered feet. Her now exposed face showcased her frightened tear filled eyes and stained cheeks which only made them laugh in glee at her weakness.

She had tried to make eye contact with someone- anyone who'd show her a hint of compassion…but they all wore masks of evil- bared fangs, wild grunts and cruel words.

It wasn’t until she was tossed into an alcove, did all the events and bodily pain finally catch up with her, making her hurl and heave whatever little was left in her stomach.

A few moments after Su’ko left her, an old, shriveled water skin was chucked at her feet, along with a frayed rag and a small chunk of half rotting bark.

“Clean yourself up,” snapped the voice of a woman.

Xilä recognized it- it was Vhin, a middle aged Na’vi who Xi had come to despise over the years. She used to be a friend of her mother’s.

With a slew of curses, the woman began to clean the pool of vomit Xi had made. From a quick glance around, Xilä guessed this must have been Su’ko’s private space she had defiled.

“Better do as told, girl,” Vhin warned when she saw that Xi hadn’t moved from her slumped position on the dirt floor, crumbling rocks loosening beneath her. “The Olo'eyktan wishes to claim you after the feast.”

“I cannot be claimed, Vhin,” Xilä rasped as she levelled a glare at the vile Na’vi before her. “I am a mated woman. I am already-”

The older woman cut her off with an unimpressed noise. “It does not count…Su’ko makes the rules here now.”

“I am a claimed woman. I was bonded to my mate before Eywa-”

“Ha! Eyyyywaaa…” she drawled sarcastically, “Where was the Great Mother when we her people needed her? How many years- decades has it been since she’s shown her presence? We live like vermin! What has she ever done for us? Su’ko is Olo'eyktan now and his word is worth more than the mighty Great Mother. You’d be wise to remember there is no Eywa here anymore. He will take you as he wishes.”

Not wanting to discuss such a revolting topic any further, Xi steered the direction of the conversation.

“If you don’t have the Great Mother, there are other ways- there were other things that could have been done. Did you know help has been offered by the Omatikaya. If only my father was not so stubborn- Your Olo'eyktan, the people can choose differently. We did not have to live this way- you still don’t have too. My clan can help! You have a choice now, Vhin. All the people of Li’ona do. My mate,” Xi said, tearing up from just calling his name, “his father, Jakesully- Toruk Makto can save-”

“Quiet!” Vhin hissed, “You have been gone far too long, Xilä. I see your head has been filled with fruitless lies. Our people take care of their own. Remember?”

Xi scoffed bitterly, causing her ribs to ache. “No, they are too proud to accept help. Or maybe just too stupid.”

Vhin squinted at her as if seeing her for the first time. “You are different, girl... No longer the whimpering mess you used to be.”

Xi ignored her, choosing instead to break off a small piece of the cleansing bark near her feet. It was stale, but it aided in settling her rolling upset stomach and removed the rancid taste from her mouth.

“It is a good thing, Xilä. We need strong women in our clan, there are already far too few of us. Why do you think Su’ko was so eager to claim you? We will have a chance at a new start.”

Lip throbbing from talking so much, Xi said, “There is no us. I will not be here for long.”

Vhin laughed, amused, “And just where do you think you will be going?”

“Home. My husband will come for me,” she replied defiantly.

The woman shot Xi a pitying glance. “Oh you poor silly girl. Oh to be young and stupid again.” The harsh lines of Vhin’s face crinkled when she smiled, making her look much older than she truly was. “Clean yourself up. I will be back to ensure that you have. Don’t make me have to punish you,” she threatened.

Xilä released a sob once she was alone. Giving herself a moment to react to the situation at hand she wept as quietly as possible, muffling the sounds into her blistered palms.

She was terrified.

Not only had they left her father out for dead but Su’ko was planning to claim her- to mate her. She wept harder at that thought. She knew Su’ko would take her against her will, he was not one to reason with.

‘Please hurry Neteyam,’ she prayed.

All she wanted at that moment was to be held by her husband and to be far away from this wretched land.

Sobering up, she began to take note of her injuries, wincing when she touched the corner of her bottom lip. The dried blood on her cheek felt tight and itchy. Running a knuckle along the torn flesh, she felt relieved that it was only a shallow cut.

Her throat was still sore of course, it hurt to swallow her own saliva. She shuddered at the memory of her father’s hands squeezed tight around her neck. Xilä thought she was going to die then.

Sipping the water Vhin had left was a bad idea. It was murky and tasted more like slosh than anything- she spat it out instantly and tossed it away. She wouldn’t even use it to clean her palms, or cheek. Who knew what infections it could cause.

Xilä’s eyes trailed to the rusty old chain around her ankle. It was human-made of course. Probably looted from an old RDA turf. Xi noted that much of the contents of Su’ko’s space held several foreign items that Xi had never noted in Li’ona before.

It puzzled her because it was a punishable crime to have possession of such items.

Glaring at the chain that held her prisoner and unable to run, Xi grimaced at her poor ankle- it swollen and almost mangled looking. Angry harsh marks tinged in blood circled her cyan skin. Su’ko had been quite rough with her when he’d tied her up.

She had already tried and failed multiple times at releasing the bindings on her wrists. So, attempting to slip her foot free again, she wailed in frustration when she failed yet again. It didn’t even budge.

Over and over she tugged and pulled and yanked- trying to break free.

But nothing.

Slumping in defeat against the wall of rock she was held in, Xi prayed to Eywa to give her strength.

~

It had been an hour since two men dragged her from the alcove and tossed her at Su’ko’s feet.

Xilä stifled the need to cry again, she refused to let them see her tears.

She was tired, hungry, thirsty. Her injuries were no longer numb from a rush of adrenaline or maybe it was the muted effects of whatever drug her father had most likely overdosed her with- but she was in pain.

And then here she was as well, on display for the entire clan to see.

They’d stolen her cloak a few minutes ago- a soft blanket really. The faint lingering scent of home had been roughly ripped off of her and was now wrapped around some other woman who’d brutally beaten the one who’d stolen it from her.

Animals.

All of them.

Xi watched them all now from her perch between Su’ko’s thighs. She stayed eerily still as he played with her hair, occasionally breaking away from his feast of smoked fish and squashed yovo fruit, to nuzzle at her neck, deeply inhaling each time.

She felt revolution from his touch and naked in front of the clan.

Unlike the other fully covered women in their poorly sewn, weather appropriate- long ugly dresses, Xilä was probably a sight to see in her revealing tubed top and short skirt.

Men stared and women sneered. Su’ko on the other hand was downright delighted.

Xilä watched the faces staring back at her. They were gaunt, pale, sickly. Savages who fought each other over the food “Su’ko” had provided for them- the food her father had stolen.

Eyes roaming, she realized she’d been right. The cave was dim, low hanging so that taller Na’vi had to watch their heads while standing at full height. And while it was still hot, it was definitely not as blistering as the outside. Members were now free to reveal their faces or shrug off their outer threadbare cloaks.

“Pretty little thing,” a nearby member complimented his leader, grunting through a lisp- half his teeth missing. “You will share her, no?”

“But of course,” Su’ko purred, tongue darting out to lick a bead of sweat off her temple. “What precious gift we have here.”

Hoots and cheers echoed around the cave at the man's words.

“Oh, Petal. I am going to have so much fun with you.”

Xi felt herself shutting down. She screwed her eyes shut, blocking out the world around her.

“Come on Xi. You can do this. Let’s go again. Ready? Breathe in… out… In… out. Focus on your breathing…clear your mind before trying to find her.”

Xilä’s nose wrinkled as she tried to focus. “Ugh, it’s not working, ‘Teyam. I can’t do it.”

“Bullshit. Yes you can. Again.”

“It’s too hard, let’s go back to-”

“No.”

Xi pouted. She realized he’d crumble to her will lately- especially if she played it right.

He glanced away, nose flaring, sharp jaw clenched as if denying himself temptation. When he stared at her again, she felt breathless…she felt seen- as if she mattered.

What was he doing to her lately?

“Alright, fine. Come here then, let’s try another way.” He gently tugged her towards him, unlinking his legs as he helped her settle against his chest.

Xilä bit her lip, head tilting forward to hide her furious appearing blush as his thighs caged her in. He was doing this a lot now…touching her. It was innocent enough but she felt the hidden more- she liked it.

His palm covered the entity of her stomach, applying a small amount of pressure. “Breathe with me Xilä, feel how I do, okay?” he said quietly, pressing her flush with his chest.

“Okay.”

He whispered in her ear this time, puffs of warm breath tickingling her. “Breathe sweetheart. In…out…In…out…In…out…Clear your mind…in, before you sharpen your thoughts, out…In…out. What do you hear? In…out. What do you feel? Make the connection, Xi……Feel it?”

“Yes.”

It was indescribable. Since starting this particular lesson, it was the first time she’d felt it- the first time she connected with Eywa without Tsaheylu with the Tree of Souls. The Omatikaya were a spiritual people. Eywa was their way of life.

And now it would be hers too.

Neteyam linked his pinkie with her index like they always did of late. He nudged her with his chin playfully. “See? How was that?”

“Good…Beautiful. I didn’t think I could do it,” she admitted.

“Why? Don’t you see? There is nothing you cannot do, Xi. I want you to start believing in yourself like I do,” he said, lips brushing her flickering ear.

“I know. But this in particular…I thought Eywa would want nothing to do with me- it’s stupid.”

Thick arms circled her, hugging her close. “It’s not stupid…do you want to talk about why you would think such a thing?”

“I don’t, not right now anyway. Maybe another time.”

“Fair enough. Do you want to try again, or call it a day? Your choice, sweetheart. I’m feeling generous today,” he joked.

Xilä turned to peer up at her friend- gold clashing with silver. She felt that tickling flutter in her stomach again. The one that would sink lower into secret parts of her- parts that tingled and dampened. The same fluttering she’d feel whenever she stared at his sweat slicked abs or arms when she watched him train with his team. The one that made her weak at the knees when he called her “sweetheart”.

“Xi?”

She blinked, a beam growing on her face. “Yes, I want to try again.”

“Alright,” he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as they settled into the position again. “Ready?”

Breath in…and out…In…out…in…out.

Xilä opened her eyes- piercing gaze fiercely glaring into her lap.

The memory did something to her.

It sparked the fire she needed. Hearing Neteyam’s voice relit the hope she knew was slowly dimming.

If he were here with her, he’d tell her she was strong. He’d tell her she could get through this. He’d tell her to think, to plan, to be smart and to strike when they least expected it.

Xi could do that.

She refused to accept defeat.

She refused to let them break her.

~

So all of that just happened...My heart breaks for Xi and Neteyam rn.

This took a darker turn than expected...we'll see what happens in the next part...

I know that this chapter is a month over due, so again, I'll spear yall my sob story. I really do hate having long stretches of no update, really sorry lovelies.

Not going to lie but this chapter was a strugggggle to write. It's not my favorite and I'm not entirely sure I'm happy at all with the final result...but it's done, so *shrugs*

Special shout out to Tori who's idea's helped immensely. As well as those of you who would have sent an Ask. It honestly helped A LOT!

Feel free to share your suggestions of course and as always please let me know what you thought, since you know I love hearing from you all :)

Ps: Curious of what you all think of Stephan's character. Lol

Tags: @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @granddearduck @riatesullironalite @strawberri-blonde @earthling55 @innercreationflower @duckworthbean @gyuventure @btsiguess-kpop @blkmystery @neteswife @luvteyams @isnt-itstrange @erenjaegerwifee

If you'd like to be tagged or I forgot you by accident, please let me know.

#neteyam #neteyam x oc #neteyam avatar #neteyam fic #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam sully

[creepling]

hii idk if you’re comfortable but could i request just any headcanons of stockholm syndrome johnny slaughter x fem!reader? would he ever come around to being “gentle” after corrupting the reader of a relationship? would he ever let the reader see her family? just give me any details you brainstorm 🫣

this became more of a drabble but it encapsulates everything i'd except from johnny with a captive with stockholm syndrome. he'll be overthinking, he'll be insecure, and he'll take it out on you. then act all boyfriend material so you don't question it. he's such a joy to be around lmaooo

tags: can be read as gn. stockholm syndrome, knife as threat, near death experience, abusive relationship

Johnny’s tactics proved to be worthwhile the more you eased yourself into the role of a captive, viewing your surroundings as a home since you had no escape to go to your own. It surprises him how quickly you succumbed to it, offering to take up chores. He was suspicious of you at first until he let you out in the junkyard to gather scraps. The cattle grid off, the gate open, you had every chance of escape. Your footing stayed planted on the soil, bare feet in the dry dirt, humming a tune as the sun beat down on you. You acted as if you were at home, taking your time, comfortable in your surroundings. You were the first of its kind in Johnny’s eyes.

Sometimes he caught you gazing at the pressure gate. Looking beyond the road to the horizon, deep in thought. Johnny would keep his eye on you, his hands busy with the car he was fixing up. Then you would sigh and look away, getting back to work. Johnny needed answers, he had to know what you were thinking. A dream, an opportunity? Are you kidding him?

“You ever thought about running away?” He would ask. You never gave a direct answer, your words were always like “I like it here”, “I have everything I need”

It did not calm his nerves. You can’t leave, you can’t defeat him. You cannot be convinced of anything except your devotion to him, otherwise all his work has gone to waste. He had to test you again, break any thought that crossed your mind.

He ambushed you in the quiet of the night, snuffling your screams with his hand, and pressing his knife to your neck. You only screamed once, resting when you saw Johnny, calm under his knife as you gazed into his eyes.

“If you ever think about leaving,” Johnny warned, “Goddammit- I’ll kill you. I’ll fucking kill you.” His words were insecure, his vowels broken. Masking his frustration with fury.

He shifted his hand to grip your hair, giving you a chance to speak. Your docile face gazing up at him, forcing a smile to appeal to him.

“I love you, Johnny… I do, I really do,” your calm words failed as he tensed his shoulders, pressing the knife closer to you. “But… I have a family. They’ll be worried sick about me. At least let me write to them, I’ll tell them that I found you, and I’m happy here. Please…” You weren’t necessarily lying, but there was still an inkling of what life was like before. Your whole life was ahead of you, letting you navigate the paths of life. You went down this one, longing for the possibilities there were before. You refused to admit defeat, mustering a fond smile.

It seemed like Johnny was thinking about it, but he was only steadying his knife, debating on slitting your throat. The spill of your blood flashed before his eyes before he made the split decision to replace the knife with his hand, closing your airflow.

“You have a family,” Johnny spat, “We’re your goddamn family. Got it?”

You nodded to the best of your ability, gripping his wrists, calling surrender. He lets go, scoffing at your pathetic coughs for air.

“You’re smart, so I suggest you start thinking smart thoughts,” Johnny’s remark was worse than his knife. You turned on your side, burying your face into the pillow to get back to sleep. Your eyes are wide open, tense under Johnny’s arms wrapped around you. He kisses your temple, soothing your head, as if nothing happened.

#johnny slaughter x reader #tcm game #johnny slaughter #texas chainsaw massacre #drabble #request #anon #cw abuse #cw knife #cw stockholm syndrome

[spookychick78]

Final Girl

Janie’s Got A Gun

Michael Myers X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Violence/Gore, threats of SA

Word Count: 1,753

He had been up since the beginning of dawn watching. He hadn't seen any signs of movement since the night before, but finally something gave. The man in the mask strode out of the house. He walked slowly towards the edge of the trees and disappeared within them.

He knew he had to be sure he was gone and wouldn't return any time soon. He didn't want to risk his plan being foiled. A few hours had passed before he decided the masked man wouldn't be returning any time soon. His chance was now.

"It's time for you and I to spend a little quality time together, (y/n)," he said as he checked his pistol's chamber one last time.

Her eyes were just beginning to open. Her hand went for the spot where Michael’s had been, but couldn't find it. She looked to find he was gone. She let out a sigh and decided maybe she would just sleep until he returned, not thrilled with the idea of being in an empty house all day again. She heard the front door fall and felt a little excitement in her stomach, maybe he hadn't left after all. She sat up and listened to the footsteps coming down the hallway and her excitement was slowly replaced with a sinking feeling. They weren't Michael's. She had grown accustomed to his gentle footfall, his slow pace and the sound his heavy boots made on the floor. These were unfamiliar and menacing.

She shot out of the bed and looked to Michael's usual spot on the floor but nothing was there. He had taken his knife. The footsteps drew closer. She frantically scanned the room for anything she could use to defend herself if needed. Her eyes fell upon a curtain rod that rested in the corner of the room. She ran to it and held it like a bat in her tight grasp. The intruder's familiar form made it's way into the door frame. Her stomach churned when a smile spread across his face.

"Daniel," she said through gritted teeth.

"Long time no see," he said, that wicked grin still hanging about on his face.

"It hasn't been long enough," she replied.

The smile finally fell and was replaced with a hateful glare.

"No, no, no, I disagree," he started as he moved closer, she raised the curtain rod in defense and he held up his hands, "in fact, you've been out here breathing for far too long. You didn't give my brother that same curtesy, did you?"

"He got what he deserved," she spat back, "you will too."

"That what you think? Are you gonna do it?" He teased, "Or, let me guess, lover boy with the mask is gonna come save you."

She didn't gratify that with a response, she only held the rod tighter.

"I don't think he is," he said in a dark tone, "tell me something. You didn't have the guts to kill him, did you? You got your knight in shining armor to do your dirty work."

"I may not have killed him, but I sure did love watching him die," she said with a taunting grin.

"You bitch," he sneered.

She chuckled, "It's funny, he said the same thing before he died."

He lunged at her and she swung the rod as hard as she could. He toppled over but quickly managed to grab hold of her foot. She fell onto the wood and it knocked the breath out of her. He pulled her far enough away from the rod, but she swung her arm back to punch him. He pulled his gun and held it to her head. She glared up at him hatefully.

"Do it," she said calmly.

He pushed it harder against her head and laughed, "You think you're getting out of this that easily?"

He stood up, gun still aimed right at her, "No, I don't think so. You're gonna beg for me to kill you, (y/n)."

"Try me."

He reached forward and grabbed a handful of her hair. He pulled her up by it and forced her head back with the gun against her jaw. He let it drag down her neck and down to her chest, he used it to pull her shirt down. She pulled back, but couldn't get out of his grasp. He chuckled.

"Still keeping up the good girl act, are we," he said in a husky voice that made her skin crawl.

He forced his lips against her ear and she closed her eyes in disgust, "We both know you're just a little whore."

Her knee shot up and got him just above where she wanted to, but it was enough to get him off of her at least for a moment.

"You're just digging you're grave deeper," he sneered before he backhanded her with as much force as he could manage.

She fell back, wincing as her fingers felt the blood coming from the side of her mouth. Her hatred was bubbling over at the thought that she wouldn't be able to overpower him. She closed her eyes when she heard the sound of him undoing his belt. Her heart dropped.

"Now, why don't you give me a little taste of what you've been doing for that masked freak to keep you around," he tossed the belt to the side and began to undo his jeans, "what was his name again?"

She opened her eyes and smiled. He already seemed so small in comparison to her 'lover boy' standing behind him.

"Michael."

He chuckled, "Well, you won't be screaming his name anymore after I'm done with y-"

His sickening words were cut short by the blade in his back. She cherished his pained expression as Michael lifted his stunned body into the air. With one hand, he pushed him off his blade and allowed him to fall to the floor in front of her. Somehow, he was still alive, but barely. She tried to stop him as he grabbed the gun he'd dropped and aimed it at Michael.

"No!" She cried as she watched him unload his pistol into Michael's chest.

He stumbled backwards through the door frame and his body fell. She ran to him and her tears fell like rain onto the blue cloth of his coveralls. She tried to shake him back to life, but it was no use. He was still. Her heart had never ached so badly, but her mourning was interrupted.

She heard Daniel pulling the trigger of the empty pistol he had aimed at her, as if he was imagining her death before his overtook him. She took Michael's knife out of his hand and stood up. He continued pulling the trigger as she stood over him.

"I think I'll make you beg now," she said.

She grabbed the pistol from him and stuck it in the back of her jeans. He was truly defenseless. The fear that was building up in his eyes was fueling her. It was like she had a second chance to complete the mission she had previously had. She felt invincible. She pressed her foot firmly down on his shin and the crunch it made filled the silent house along with his screams. He looked down in horror and then back up at her. She wasn't even sure how she had done it. She smiled back before she pressed down further. The sound of bones breaking beneath her was almost addicting. His life ending only added to her growing strength. He let his head fall back with a thud and she allowed him a moment while she decided what she would do next. He weakly lifted his head back up and fear filled his eyes once again. It was more than before this time and he wasn't looking at her. She turned to see Michael had stood back up. He was alive. She was in complete shock.

He walked past her and grabbed the man's throat and lifted him off the ground. He held him up high as he squeezed tighter and tighter. The man clawed at his grip, but it was no use. His kicking and fighting began to slow as he started to give in. To truly finish him off, Michael lowered him back down so the man could see him. He tilted his head, then swiftly turned the man's jaw and snapped his neck. The crack echoed off the walls.

Then silence. She backed herself out of the room and against the wall of the hallway. Her mind was racing as she watched him stand over yet another kill that should have been her’s. On top of that, he had been shot six times. She saw him die. She glanced over his chest to see that he had indeed been shot and she hadn't imagined it, but there they were. Six bullet holes clear as day in his clothes. She was too stunned to do anything but sit there and stare.

Michael grabbed the man's limp arms and dragged him down the hallway and out into the night. As he walked, he was having an internal war. He cursed himself for ever having left her in the first place. Had he been here, the body he was dragging wouldn't have made it into the house. He knew it had awakened that need in her again. He saw it firsthand this time. The way she fed off his death. She was changing or maybe that darkness in her had always been there, it was just overlooked. It made him want to kill the man over again for revealing that part of her.

He found a small dip in the ground and decided he would leave him there. When he kicked him in, something fell out the man's pocket. It was a piece of paper. Michael picked it up and read over the article carefully. It was about her, about the murder. It was like the monster was determined to torture her from the grave. Or maybe he was torturing Michael. If she wasn't already becoming more like him, this would seal her fate. He decided he couldn't let her see this, it would only worsen things. He laid it down near the body, but covered it up with some dirt just in case.

He didn't want to look at the man's face any longer, nor did he want to think of her any differently. It was done. She was safe. For now.

#Michael Myers #michael audrey myers #michael myers x reader #og michael myers #slasher #slasher fandom #slasher fanfiction #slasher x reader #slasher fucker #horror #horror fiction #horror fan #horror fanfiction #the bogeyman #the shape #Halloween #halloween 1978 #Spotify

[juliaxhart]

Hii can i request Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll Their Eyes this time with Colten Gunn please🩵

Of course! I changed the title to a different lyric, but it’s still the same story I just didn’t want anyone to be confused! I also replaced Danhausen with Mark Sterling so they aren’t too similar :)

Slight Tw: the word murder? Swearing? It gets a tiny bit spicy

Cut the headlights, summer’s a knife

When Ethan invited Colten and Y/n to a toy hunt, Colten immediately said no. However, after way too much persuasion from his girlfriend, he gave in. They pulled up to the store, the pair standing behind Austin as Ethan did his YouTube intro and introducing everyone. Right before they went inside, Colten quickly pressed a quick peck to Y/n’s lips, making her smile for a second before they heard Ethan screaming like he just witnessed a murder. “THANKS GUYS NOW I HAVE TO EDIT THAT OUT!”

“Shit you filmed that?” Colten said through laughter that sounded more like a dying horse. Ethan glared at him and they walked in with Mark leading the group. Austin, Mark and Ethan were all looking around, occasionally picking up an item or two to purchase. Y/n was trying to look around, but Colten wasn’t having any of that. He was craving her attention, doing anything for her to notice him. He grabbed her hand, pressed kisses to her cheek, her neck, her lips, anywhere. Nothing. She didn’t want to mess up Ethan’s filming anymore.

“Babe. I’m trying to look at the funko pops, that is the third time you’ve kissed me in the past two minutes.” She smiled at him. She wasn’t annoyed, she thought he was being adorable, but she really didn’t want to mess up Ethan’s video. “He’s not even filming over here darling, he’s on the other side of the store.”

Only a few moments later, Colten had Y/n pressed against a mostly empty shelf, their lips crashing together as her hands tangle themselves in his hair. “Holy fuck guys- I’m not trying to get demonitized.” Ethan yelled when he turned the corner along with the rest of the group. Colten quickly pulls away, his face was a similar color to the bright red color of the walls. Turns out, Ethan had rounded everyone up to do an outro before they left, but they couldn’t find Colten and Y/n.

They left, Mark took his own car but the Gunns and Y/n drove with Ethan. Colten and Y/n got the backseat, Ethan started driving. “Do you guys have any plans for tonight? I was thinking we could go out for drinks.” Colten immediately cut Austin off, not giving Ethan or Y/n a chance to speak. “Sorry Austin, me and Y/n definitely have some plans later.” Ethan groaned and started driving just slightly over the speed limit to get rid of them faster.

#wrestling fanfiction #aew fanfiction #colten gunn fanfic

[friedbaekhyunandeggso]

Reason ~ ch. 14

Pairing: Female OC x Levi Ackerman

Tropes: Instructor x Cadet, Strangers to Lovers, Male MC falls first

Warnings: angst/slow-burn, strong language, upcoming smut(18+ readers only for those chapters pls 🙈), physical assault/violence, mentions of scars

Brief Summary: This story takes place a few years after the Fall of Shiganshina. Devon Alba is in her final year of the 101st Training Corps (844-847), due to her success as a cadet she gets the chance to meet Captain Levi. She doesn’t think too much of him until he catches her in the midst of doing something that she isn’t entirely supposed to be doing. But surprisingly, this leads to something unexpected...

Chapter 1 [...] Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15

Imada walked out of her last class of the day. Although today’s lesson was interesting she hadn’t slept well last night so she was tired. She knew her class ended later than the boys so they were probably at the Infirmary already. She adjusted her backpack strap before heading there as well.

Suddenly one of the Garrison officers that assisted with training stopped her, “Imada! Captain Levi wants to speak to you in his office.”

A few cadets nearby glanced at her.

Imada blinked. What?

“I’ll head there now, sir.”

The officer nodded before walking further down the hallway.

Why does he want to see me?

She ignored the cadet’s stares and headed towards the direction of his office. To be honest, she wasn’t even sure where his office was. She didn’t even know he had an office. But she knew where Chief Shadis’s office was so she assumed it was nearby.

She swallowed, her mind involuntarily drifting back to the day she’d first spoken to him...

Imada stared at Devon’s body with tears in her eyes. She was unconscious, wrapped up in several bandages that were slowly becoming stained with red from blood loss. She knew the nurse would be back soon to replace them.

This was the most vulnerable she’s ever seen her best friend look.

She squeezed Devon’s limp hand, “You better wake up, fool.” she said, her voice shaky.

Devon had been missing for the whole day yesterday until Instructor Zameer had found her this morning. He’d managed to find her blood trail and track it to the sinkhole where her body was left–or hidden, no one knew. But creepily enough, Zameer had also found a bloodied cadet uniform and stained rope behind a bush near the sinkhole.

Everyone was a suspect, since there wasn’t evidence to accuse anyone. But she was sure it was Carter. It had to be. He was the only cadet who openly despised Devon. And she was especially sure after seeing the Instructors pull out Devon’s pocket knife from his pocket during the body searches.

There was no way on earth he’d ‘accidentally’ just found that. The few things Devon owned, she kept close.

Suddenly the curtain was pulled aside and she turned her head to see Captain Levi enter.

She quickly blinked her tears away before addressing him, “Captain Levi.”

He merely nodded in greeting before walking to stand near the foot of her bed. He kept his distance but she saw something flash over his face when he looked Devon’s body up and down.

He crossed his arms, “Do you have any suspicions as to who did this to her?”

“I do, sir,” she said, “I think it was Carter.”

“Carter? Ah-that boy she beat in hand to hand combat.”

“Yes, him,” she said before adding, “He had her pocket knife on him.”

“I heard.”

“She wouldn’t ever lose that, sir. It’s the only thing she has from the Underground.”

“Underground?”

“That’s where she was brought up. It’s the only thing her Mother gave her. It’s a family heirloom. She would’ve told me if she lost it.”

“Is that so.” he said, flatly.

She stroked Devon’s hand in hers, “I know she would’ve.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Other than him, is there anyone else with the motive to do this?”

Imada looked down at Devon’s current state with a small frown, “No. Not that I know of.”

“Hm.”

Imada glanced over at him, taking in his profile. Despite his height, his presence still intimidated her. There just was something about his demeanor that made her so sure that she never wanted to get on his bad side.

But—to her surprise—after an up-close examination, she could see that he was rather attractive. His sharp jaw, narrow eyes and straight nose…they were all features to be admired. But she couldn’t imagine who would want to admire them, especially with the aura he exuded.

“Imada.”

His gravelly voice startled her, “Y-yes?”

“She never mentioned feeling threatened by anyone did she?”

She shook her head, “No, sir.”

He uncrossed his arms, “Thank you.”

Then he left the room.

Imada entered the Infirmary and greeted the nurse at the desk with a warm smile.

“Hi, Imada, dear.” she glanced at the watch on her wrist, “You’re here early.”

“My class ended early so I thought I could-.”

The nurse waved her hand, “Oh, I know. I know. Go on, see your bestie.”

Imada giggled before heading over to Devon’s bed. Just as she lifted the curtain to Devon’s area she saw Captain Levi standing by her bed.

She couldn’t believe the sight before her eyes.

His dark gray eyes gazed down at Devon with such warmth it made her breath catch. His knuckles brushed her cheekbone with utmost delicacy; it was almost as if he were afraid he’d break her.

What is happening?

Suddenly, Levi sharply withdrew his hand from her face and his usual unwelcoming expression returned when he spotted Imada.

“Imada.”

She struggled to reign in her shock before meeting his gaze, “Captain Levi.”

He stared at her expressionlessly and she suddenly wished she hadn’t come to visit Devon at this time. But then she wouldn’t have seen…

Instructor Zameer suddenly rushed to Captain Levi’s side at that second.

“Captain Levi, Chief Shadis wanted me to update you about her-” he glanced down at Devon’s unconscious body, “-case. He said you wanted to deal with the culprit?”

“I do.” Captain Levi’s monotone voice rang, his eyes still hadn’t left hers. She managed to keep her poker face intact.

Instructor Zameer glanced over at Imada—as if unsure whether to continue or not with her here.

“I can g-“

“Stay,” Captain Levi ordered before finally breaking his stare to look at Zameer. “Go on.”

“It was reported that our staff and cadets spotted bruises on Carter’s face,” he gestured towards Devon’s scarred hands. “We all know she didn’t go down without a fight.”

Zameer continued, “The bloodied clothes I found are his size as well.”

“Where is he?” Levi’s tone was so flat it made her question if he was bored.

“He should be in the middle field of the barracks, sir.”

Captain Levi didn’t waste a second as he stalked out of the Infirmary. Zameer rushed to follow him.

Imada contemplated following them but hesitated, she wasn’t sure if it was her place. But what shocked her more was the oddly placed ball of fear that was suddenly growing inside of her.

What is he gonna do?

She knew the last person she should be concerned for was Carter but-despite the disinterest leaking from his tone-she saw the flash in his eyes when Zameer dropped Carter’s name. She knew at that moment all he’d seen was red.

Suddenly a shrill scream of pain ripped through the air and Imada was on her feet. She ran out the Infirmary to the origin of the noise and saw-right in the middle of the barracks-Levi standing over Carter’s crumpled body.

Levi’s shirt was stained with streaks of blood but it seemed he wasn’t done because he was drawing his leg back for another lethal kick. The sound of something snapping echoed through the air.

The pain-filled howl that left Carter’s mouth made her shiver.

“Did you have fun hitting a woman?” Levi demanded before bringing his leg down once more.

Another abnormal snap filled the air and the other cadets watching gasped. This time Carter didn’t yell out.

Imada stared down at Carter’s lifeless form on the ground. His legs were bent at an unusual angle and a growing puddle of blood seemed to surround him. His nose was completely mutilated and his jaw hung open as if he couldn’t close it.

She knew she’d see that sight every time she closed her eyes.

Several instructors and medical staff ran towards his direction but it all felt like white noise when she met Levi’s gaze.

She felt his eyes on her before she’d raised her gaze to his. His posture was rod-straight, his hands at his sides were smeared with blood. Blood dripped from the ends of hair and streaked down his face. His expression was solemn but the dark look in his eyes made her truly realize he was different.

She couldn’t register how he’d done so much damage within the last twenty seconds since he’d left the infirmary.

What did Devon get herself into?

#levi #leviheichou #levi headcanons #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi angst #attack on titan #aot #levi x reader #levi x oc #levi scenarios #aot fanfiction #levi fanfic #levi ship #levi fluff #captain levi #attack on titan smut #attack on titan hot #levi smut #attack on titan scenarios #levi x fem!reader #levi imagine #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi x petra #levi hot #aot smut #levi x mc #attack on titan! au

[ducknotinarow]

[Big Mama @ Raph - Big Mama’s Boy AU]  “I get it, you’re brave. But, don’t do that, again.”

| Protective Starters

At best Raph's job was just him needing to step in to give a scare it tended to do the trick on its own for the giant, bulked-out, six-foot turtle. Yeah the mere sight of him alone was enough to get people to step down and fall back in line if they dared to go against his mom. You had to be dumb to even think you stood a chance in the first place with that. Big Mama to Raph may be the most amazing person in the world, his hero because she was the one who found him and took him in. Gave him home, she was his family. When he fell and scraped his knees she picked him back up, wiped his tears, and bandaged them up. She gave him everything he could ever wish for and things he never asked for. A room that was full of toys that he could play with all day. She took time out for him despite being the busiest Yokai in all of the Hidden City. From the Battle Nexus to her hotel or the trains even and well everything! She was his mom, she was the most powerful yokai in the hidden city. Heck, all the other yokai were scared of her. But a few thought they could be sly so it became his job to handle them. But sometimes giving just a mean mug wasn't enough. Sometimes Raph had to fully step in.

Her bellhops normally were very loyal to her and followed her every word. But she had to get after one of them they hadn't been falling in line exactly as of late and cause trouble so as the boss of course his mom needed to take action and correct the guy. Raph tagged along just in case and he's glad he did. The bellhop even when Big mama stared down at him surrounded by all the others. They all knew he made a mistake a very dumb one. But she was willing to not cause any harm his way just remind them of her influence and power. The Yokai sat on the floor trembling in fear the whole time. But, it was an act of thinking that Big mama was somehow weak when in her human guise. They pulled out a knife they had on them and lunged at her. Raph may be big but he was fast as he rushed in handheld out letting the knife sink into his skin it did take a lot thanks to how thick it was. But he still did flinch, the room fell silent. As Raph pulled back his arm holding a moment as the pain seem to ring out throughout his arm. Gritting his teeth trying to take in the pain before narrowing his gaze at the bellhop. That Knife was meant for his mother! They would have.. his breaths started to become staggered trying to take in slow controlled breaths of air.

But soon a red aura formed around his hand that didn't have a knife stuck in it, eyes near glowing with the same color as he locked his gaze on them. "You just made a big mistake!" Was all Rapheal yelled out before he swung landing a hit squarely into their face, throwing his whole weight in against his punch. Even with the aura, he could feel it connect with their face. Sending them flying across the room, as Raph stood their aura slowly disappeared so he could grab back onto his injured hand, as he yanked the knife out not letting it drop to the ground. Looking down he could see blood seeping out from the cut but he was pretty sure it would be fine? setting his other hand over it to keep pressure on it just in case. Before he looked over his shoulder at his mother. "Sorry Ma' I know you can handle yourself but I couldn't risk you getting hurt by him." he offers a slightly pained smile her way. but she doesn't seem to buy into it. Worry and concern are quick to replace her usually grin.

“I get it, you’re brave. But, don’t do that, again.”

Raph just looked at her blankly for a moment before turning around to her, out of instinct showing her the wound on his hand so she could look him over. "What'a mean don't do it again Ma? that guy was lookin' ta hurt you! So Raphael did what he does best!" He not yelling just raising his voice a bit to get his mother to understand. She protected him his whole life now that he could do the same? What did she just expect him not to? "You look out for me I look out for that how it is Ma you taught me that. Besides if he had hurt you then what would do?" his voice crack a little at the mere thought, Raph didn't have anyone else but his mother after all. "So no I will do it again it's my job to make sure no one messes with ya!" He states letting his lower beak hang a bit before dropping his head feeling like he yelled at her just now. "I'm not sorry. I'll do everything to protect you ma'."

#madamkezzie #aflockoffeathers #[ poor soul in the spider web aflockoffeathers] #[ big mama’s boy au] #protective starters #meem answers #stayed qeued #((big mama please he can't lose his only family ;3;)) #muse| hamato raphael

[adventures-of-the-creeping-bam]

NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM,  BOOK TWO: ONE COLD TRAIL - CHAPTER 28

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Book 2 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT:  Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT:  ART

Fuck, this shit’s going south fast.  I don’t even bother to stand as I just throw myself forward, diving headfirst through the gap between the closest balustrades.  I twist in the air as I start to drop, and I roll forward as my feet hit the ground, taking the jolt out of the landing before the momentum can snap my ankles.  I’m already drawing my new sword as I start to come up on the other side of it, and I start dashing forward immediately, slipping the corresponding long knife out as I close the distance on one of the newest arrivals.

Through the corner of my eyes and the edges of my awareness I take in what’s going on around me – Kesla’s still battling away with that creepy pale bitch, the one I imagine to be Vandryss, the one we been seeking.  She’s good, clearly, Kesla’s keeping up with her but I can see she’s using every trick she can think of to keep from getting overwhelmed. Seeing that’s almost enough to make me break off my intended attack and rush to her aid, but I know if I do there’s a danger we could be overwhelmed by this sudden influx of new enemies.

Gael’s jumped into the fray, I see, setting about with her staff, and I just catch sight of her whipping the feet out from under one of ‘em as I go in for my own attack. Motion on the other side causes me inward alarm, but I realise it’s Dumoli joining the fight, swinging his massive hammer while charging in with a great bellow.  Thel’s close on his heels, her battleaxe clutched low but ready as she runs, and there’s a look of pure murder in her eyes.

My intended target registers what’s coming in the final moments and they turn to intercept me, their shortsword already out as they’re trying to palm a handaxe free from their belt.  They give up as I close in and take a stab at me instead, but I duck aside and swing my knife at the same moment to turn their sword aside, and they’re still trying to recover, eyes going wide, when I ram three quarters of Shay’s former longsword through their chest.  I extend as far as I can on the lunge and they buckle with it, so when I whip it back quick to withdraw the blade again they’re already falling.

Ain’t the first time I used my new sword in anger, it already served me well yesterday in the Round, but I’m only now starting to really appreciate this weapon’s superior killing power compared to my old one, before it was broken. It’s got four inches more reach than that blade, and while it’s also heavier it’s not much more of a handful, I’ve taken great care to adjust to it in the weeks since Shay gave it to me to replace my old one.  It’s still a light, slender blade, ideal for swift cut-and-thrust such as I been trained for, and it hasn’t taken me long to perfect its use.  In a way it’s actually better than my old sword …

As they crumple I round on my next opponent, who I realise has already sensed the threat and they’re pre-emptively coming at me.  I jump aside so the downward swing of their handaxe misses me by bare inches, and as I spin past them I sweep my sword across, aiming for their neck. They dodge in time and my blade whips harmlessly over their head, but their movement is desperate enough they don’t have a chance to attack me before I finish my recovery.  Instead they jump back two big steps and hunker low, their shortsword held out in front of them to dissuade me from making another attack too soon.  A cannier fighter than the last then.

Taking a breath, I look ‘em over, keeping my blades held out at my sides as I weigh the options.  I get the feeling they’re doing the same, dark eyes studying me the best they can in the dim light.  They’re about of a size with me, lean and wiry, and I suspect they’re good and flexible too, but they’re human … might be enough, that.  I cock my head as I look out from under my hood, and while they follow the motion they don’t quite meet my eyes.  They can’t see me any better than Kesla’d be able to without her fancy goggles …

So I feint right, and they react to the movement, so I know I got ‘em as I twist at the last while I whip my sword up, and splash the water that’s been accumulating on my previously flat, still blade into their eyes.  They hiss as they stumble back, and while they’re not exactly blinded I don’t need more than a split-second’s distraction right now. I sweep in on their blindside as they shake their head, and by the time they’ve blinked their eyes clear enough they’re too late realising I already got ‘em because I’m ramming a full foot of steel up under their arm.  They stiffen instantly, drawn up to their full height for a moment even as their legs give out and they start to topple sideways, and I’m already whipping the blade away after a little twist to open the wound a little more.  Dancing away on fleet feet.

Another portal seems to open from outta nowhere over the other end of the courtyard, and this time it’s to a dozen of them all drop out at once, all already drawn when their feet touch down.  Shit!  What was that Gael said about it probably not being a warlock this time?  Then a great hulking shape lumbers past me, already dropping to all fours as they start to charge at the group while they’re still orienting themselves, and people throw themselves out the way best they can to avoid getting trampled as Big Man goes for the newcomers.  The ones lucky enough to spot him coming scatter the best they can, shouting a warning to the rest, but those who aren’t quick enough just start screaming, only to stop quick enough again once he starts laying into ‘em … fuck, this is turning into chaos already.

Then I catch another momentary flash upstairs, somewhere in the right hand corner back towards the front entrance, and I realise another portal’s opened up there too.  More coming.  Damn it, whoever that wizard is, she’s more on the ball than we expected.  Is she here?  Or is she just directing all this remotely?  I cast about while I still have an opportunity, but between the rain, the foliage and the sheer chaos going on around me I can’t tell much of anything.

Another hood seems to get themselves together enough to see me close by and I’m barely quick enough to react as they charge me, so their longsword misses me by an inch as I skip aside.  They’re a good deal bigger than me, a lot more solid, and I see amber eyes starting to darken to red under their hood so I realise this one’s another half-orc. Okay, he’s definitely got me way outmatched in strength, so I better be faster instead.

He recovers quickly from the near miss and I’m still righting myself as he turns again.  He tightens, low, sword gripped in both hands and cocked up towards me as he squares his shoulders, taking a breath.  I edge back a step and extend my sword arm, pointing to his face in a cautious, ready ward, and set my jaw as I breathe in through my nose.  He blinks, quick, and I lunge as I see his eyelids shift.  He moves as I do, turning my sword aside as I charge.

If I’d intended to hit him with that thrust he might’ve fouled me, but instead I flick my sword as he turns it and instead I catch him across the back of his right hand as I’m dancing past him.  He snarls a curse and pulls away as if he can escape the pain, but that simply opens him up for a split, which is all I need to pull in close on his side.  I take a risk and my boldness barely rewards me so I can ram the length of my long knife through the side of his hood.

It's not a perfect target, if I wanted to puncture his throat like I prefer I’d run a good chance of missing since I can’t make it out through the wet black wool of his hood, so instead I aim for what would be the centre of that mass, hoping I don’t foul the blade on their thick jawbone.  Instead I meet the barest resistance past the hood, something that pops and gives way easy enough, so I just jammed the knife through his ear.  He lets out a winded rattling sound as I keep pushing and there’s a moment of greater resistance before I manage to shove it the rest of the way through to the hilt, which I suspect is the skull on the other side yielding to my strength … I can’t help shuddering as he just starts to sag, that weird, discomfiting death rattle wheezing out as I yank the blade free again and the body just drops, and I realise that’s a sound’s gonna be with me for a while.

For that long moment I’m so focused that I almost miss another one rushing me on my left, I’m starting to react when they suddenly go flying at a completely oblique angle as a flash of something bright blue strikes ‘em in the side. They tumble through the air like a ragdoll and I almost go down as I wheel round, half of me wondering what the hell just happened while the rest realises I almost got killed.  Then Gael comes running up as the crystal in the tip of their staff blinks out dull again, and I make the connection.  Their look is a mixture of stricken panic and dawning relief.

“Art, you idiot!  Get it together!”

“It’s a bit fucking crazy out here right now, ain’t you noticed? That’s kind of a tall order!”  I don’t mean to snap so hard, but I doubt they even notice.  “And thank you.  Of course.”

“What the hell are we doing?”  They’re gripping their staff tight in both hands, holding it close to their breast as they cast about, looking at the shambled excuse for a skirmish that’s unfolding around us.  “Do we even have a plan now?”

“Gods, I don’t fucking know …”  I see Kesla still locked in mortal combat with Vandryss, the two of them currently prowling in a circle around each other, swords held low and very ready, seeking out an advantage or rethinking their tactics, I really have no idea.  In truth I’m amazed they’ve fought this long without one of them gaining the upper hand, they’re clearly so well matched.

Tulen’s fighting with a sword, which takes me a little by surprise.  As I watch her she cuts one of the shadows converging on her down with an impressive sidestroke that has them stumbling back as they fight to keep their guts from spilling out.  Then she rounds on another as they try to press an advantage while they think her distracted, parrying the stroke of their lunging shortsword before ducking under the reactive hack of their offhand axe and cutting them upwards from the side.  I find myself straightening up as I watch her move, it’s incredible to watch.  “Bloody hell …”

“What … oh, yes, well Tulen always was a lot better at that stuff than I was in the Academy.”

Blinking at her words, I tear my attention off her and look the other way, spotting Thel and Dumoli fighting back to back as another half dozen hoods attempt to swarm them.  He’s smashing them down as soon as they get close, though, the way he swings that hammer almost makes it seem like he’s just holding on and letting momentum do its work but somehow he’s managing to keep his feet planted while he does it.  Thel, meanwhile, cuts two down at once with three impossibly deft moves that actually make my jaw drop, then locks up with a third before simply pushing them back and swinging her battleaxe overhead as they stumble back.  The blade catches ‘em right between the eyes while they fight to right themselves.

“Okay, so … what do you wanna do, then?”  I venture after a moment.

“Well I … I don’t … um …”  They cast about again, still seeming rattled.  I can’t blame ‘em, there’s too much going on at once in here.

Another two come charging towards us and I push Gael aside before they’re impaled on the outstretched longsword, which I batter down hard with my long knife before jamming the sword through the front of the attacker’s throat before they can check their momentum.  They stumble immediately and I try to pull the sword free but it’s stuck a little too tight and their feet suddenly start to skid out from under them on the soaked turf, and as they go down it wrenches my wrist hard.  I choke back a yell as I’m forced to let go of the sword before it breaks my arm, and then the one behind ‘em closes the gap too fast and I realise I’m gonna get run through before I can recover enough to counter …

Then something slams into their back a little before they reach me and they twist awkwardly, fumbling their shortsword but at least retaining their axe as they stumble, and I don’t try anything fancy, I just roll aside.  As I come up I twist, swapping my knife to my stronger hand as I turn to fight, only to see my would-be attacker skid down to one knee as they try to reach for the arrow sunk deep in the middle of their back with their empty right hand.  Realising I got a moment spare to breathe I turn to the balcony again in time to see someone jump down from it, recognising Shay as she tosses Kesla’s bow aside in mid-air, already going for her sword as she lands and drops into a roll.

She ain’t alone either, more figures are jumping down behind her, black-clad all – five, no six … no, seven, although the last one crumbles before they can quite make the leap and instead they just fall over the railing, dropping limp over the side with two arrows through them.  Shay saved my life before making her escape, but now she’s about to be surrounded again.  Shit …

Wanting to end this fast, I step up to the fumbling hood as they try in vain to pull the arrow from their back, and before they quite realise what I’m doing I yank back their hood and cut their throat.  As they look up at me while their hands go to try and stem the dark gush of red from the great gash, I realise they’re just a boy, human, downy blond attempt at a beard only visible because of the wet.  Bright blue eyes that can’t quite focus in the gloom somehow still manage to find mine for a moment as they start to collapse, and I gotta look away when I realise the poor bastard’s even younger than I am.

“I won’t thank you for that one, you daft oaf.”  Gael growls with clear annoyance, and I can see they’re somewhat muddied now, hefting their staff with white knuckles as they join me again. “That hurt.”

“Not half so much as a sword through the guts would’ve.”  I growl right back, not in the mood for placation right now. I see more movement behind them now … no, not movement, it’s a flicker of something, but something less seen than not seen, and I recognise one of those weird portal spells opening and closing now.  As two more new arrivals come into focus through the driving rain.

One’s a tall, slender figure in a long robe and deep hood, with an even taller, slightly twisted staff in one hand.  A woman, and my mind immediately says mage, which means this is the hedge wizard, or Order stray, or warlock, whatever.  The one we’ve been hearing about.  Whoever she is, she sways for a moment, taking up a two-handed grip on her staff to steady herself as she wobbles after the landing, and the reason behind it makes sense to me immediately.  She was clearly carrying quite a load with her on that jump.

Granzun is as intimidating a sight as I remember, maybe a little more scarred up but this just seems to add to his potency now.  He’s as big and scary as I remember, certainly, almost as broad across the shoulders as he is tall, although it’s more down to the way he holds himself.  He’s traded out his Guild suit, but the suit he wears now is no less impressive, a little more stylish but the same kind of well-fitted thick black leather plate, with his short cloak and hood sewn right into the shoulder-pieces.  The little plaited beard’s new too, but I’m not too surprised seeing it, he always did have an inflated opinion of his own style.

His sword may be lost now, but he’s certainly made up for it with more well-made steel that’s clearly come from his own personal collection.  The battleaxe is new, heavy enough that most would need two hands for it but he hefts it comfortably just in his right, while he’s carrying a nasty looking mace in his left.  It’s thick and heavy, the dark steel head bristling with big spikes, and I know full well that despite its crude appearance he can wield it deft as a sword, although it’ll do far uglier damage if he hits anyone with it …

“Shit …”  I mutter under my breath but Gael picks up on it all the same, turning to follow my gaze. Her eyes widen, but less with shock than a certain dread recognition.

“Oh … that’s the orc.”  She gives me a quick sidelong glance.  “So … is that you friend?”

“Ain’t sure I can call ‘im that anymore.”  I look round at the rest of … well, everything that’s going on right now, hoping for some kinda backup, but everybody’s busy right now. Damn it … this is down to us, then. Except …  “Gael, I want you to go help Shay, yeah?”

“What?”  They look at me like I’m crazy, and I don’t I blame ‘em.  “Art, there’s no way I’m just backing off from this.  That’s a Silver Order wizard over there, at least after a fashion, what are you going to do to her?  I have to deal with her myself.”

“That big bastard ain’t gonna let you get close enough to try anything, Gael.”  I try to fix her with the hardest stare I can, but it don’t feel any more convincing than I suspect it looks.  “That’s a fight you won’t be able to win.  And I don’t wanna see you get hurt.  Not again.”

Gael just blinks at that, I suspect I managed to stump ‘em for a moment. I really should just break and make a charge for Gran and the wizard now, while I got ‘em flummoxed, but I can’t bring myself to leave as their expression starts to soften.  They reach out, hesitant, bringing their hand close to my face, but stopping short.  “Oh, Art … I …”  Then their eyes lift, widening as they look past me to the new arrivals, and I turn fast to catch what they’re seeing.

The wizard raises both hands, staff held high in one, the crystal screwed into the top of it glowing such a bright white that everything around her’s lit starker than midday.  I can almost make out a face under that deep hood now, ‘least enough to catch her lips moving as she says … something, I don’t hear anything but I feel it pass all the same, recognising it’s a spell the same time she throws her free hand forward towards the other end of the courtyard, and something seems to pass us by, something I can’t see.  It’s heavy, though, suddenly we’re buffeted by what feels like a mighty wind and the grass in the path of this unseen force is torn aside in a great swathe.  Right up to Driver 8.

Who’s hurled clean through the fucking AIR like he’s caught a speeding boulder from a trebuchet right in the chest.  The force strikes him so hard I actually see it, like some massive bubble just bursts around him and all the rain that was falling around him just blasts off in all directions at once.  I don’t see it actually inflict any damage on him, I suspect it’d take a whole lot more to so much as scratch that insane armour he’s essentially made of, but he still folds up as the force of … whatever it is hits him and he whips off like a tossed stone.  For a blink he spins through the air, then he hits the front wall of the building and the ancient brick and mortar are no match for what’s hitting them as he leaves a fifteen foot hole in it.  Not to mention a great cloud of dust that even this much rain can’t disperse.

“Fuck me, what …”  All I can do is look at that hole in blatant shock, watching broken pieces of brick and shattered mortar fall away.  The rational part of me’s partly just impressed the wall’s still standing after that, but mostly I’m just wondering exactly what that could actually have done to Big Man.  I saw how fast and hard he was flying – even after hitting that wall I doubt he got slowed down much, he must have kept on flying a lot further than that …

“Down!”  Hands shove me off my feet and I’m still so surprised I don’t even think about fighting it as I’m tossed to the ground.  Something hot and bright sizzles over my head an instant later in the same moment that a fairly modest weight lands on top of me, and I feel ever one of my hairs suddenly stand up while it’s blazing over us.  An instant later there’s a thunderclap and another, more localised bright flash as something explodes near the entrance, and then the air down there is full of splintering wood and fire that’s quickly snuffed in the rain.  The weight shifts a beat after and I recognise Gael as much by their smell as anything else as they push off me, but keep crouched as low as they dare.  “Stay down!”  they hiss at me now, tone lower but still urgent.

I do as I’m told, only moving me head now as I turn it enough to look back in the direction of the wizard, the clear source of whatever the fuck that was. Gran’s still waiting at her side, and I get the impression now that he might actually only be here to protect her, make sure nobody else makes a play for her.  So … that’s interesting.  Might be something to that …

“Minerva …”  Gael mutters as they peel off their gloves, stuffing ‘em in the first pocket they can find. “Mad bitch, using lightning in this kind of weather.”

Another flash somewhere off to the west lights everything up blinding for a moment and the thunderclap sounds almost right after, and I see the wizard lifting her staff again as the crystal starts to flare.  Okay … “Gael, she’s doing something –”

“I see it.”  they mutter as they spit across one hand and rubs ‘em together, their staff now stuck up in the turf.  They weave out another sigil, fingers dancing fast, and it must be completed at the same time the wizard fires another lightning bolt at us because Gael pushes both hands through the sigil and then spreads them out wide.  That same weird, translucent amber dome starts to spread out in front of us as she does it, and it forms just in time to catch the bolt.

The impact is loud as any of the thunderclaps that preceded it, and for a moment I almost think we’re both dead anyway, the heat is awesome and I almost bury my head under my arms.  Only my curiosity stops me as I watch the bolt smash apart and crackle across the face of the dome, several new arcs lancing off and blasting in various different directions, most exploding with similar force when they strike whatever winds up in the way.

One of the hoods is unlucky enough to be in the way of one of these rogue branches, and for a moment I see him dance through the air, jerking with spasms as whatever this terrible, hot force is runs right through him.  I never really understood lightning, or this strange scientific stuff I’ve heard rumours of called … I dunno, eclectic?  All I do know is this stuff does spectacular amounts of damage to whatever it meets.  Even so, when he seems to just … burst a moment or so later, like he’s just turned into a great cloud of gritty dust, that’s a little more than I really expected.

“Fuck …”  I can’t help muttering it under my breath seeing it.

Gael lets out a winded grunt and I see them starting to waver just a little, but they’re gritting their teeth as they keep the dome up, and then the wizard cuts the bolt and they drop it at right after, sagging a little as the strain’s taken off.  I scramble up now, putting my shoulder to their back to push them upright as I realise I’m somehow still holding my blades, and they shake their hands violently as if they’ve just been burned.

“Damn it … guess we gotta deal with this shit instead, then.”

“Didn’t you say the orc would –”

“Just port straight to the wizard soon as you’re clear.  I’ll deal with Granzun.”  I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice, and Gael turns to me now as they retrieve their staff, looking me in the eye, suddenly a good deal more concerned.

“What are you –”

I don’t give ‘em a chance to stop me, just walking forward with purpose as I shove the hood back from my head with the pommel of my knife.  “GRANZUN!!!  THAT YOU, YOU UGLY FUCKING CUNT?!!!”

Even in the relative dim and driving rain, my eyes are sharp enough I can make out those amber eyes clear enough as they turn my way, narrowing immediately. A frown creases his heavy, shelf-like brow as I approach, spreading my hands wide and my blades with ‘em, keeping my eyes locked on his now even though there’s so much going on around us.  It takes a moment, but when recognition hits his eyes widen again and he straightens up a bit, taking a hesitant step forward before checking himself.

“Art?”  I barely hear his mutter, but I got good ears.  He steps back again, and now he’s almost shook.  “It … can’t be … what the fuck are you doin’ here?”

“These are my friends, Gran!  I want you to fuck off an’ leave ‘em alone!”

“What are you …”  His face hardens now, shoulders tightening as he starts to lumber forward, still moving slowly, seeming unsure of himself but starting to resolve now.  “I can’t do that.  This ain’t your business, Art!”

“Fuck you it ain’t my business!  I told you, these are my friends!!  You need to leave here now, before it costs you!”  I quicken my step, starting to tense up as I do it, and I tighten my grip on both my blades as I move.

Granzun doesn’t answer me this time, he just squares his shoulders and starts to rush me, his face tightening into a snarl as he lets out a clipped, controlled bellow.  I simply break into a full run too as my answer.

We didn’t used to spar much, back in the day.  Given how very different we both were in physicality, even when we were still growing, his sheer size always made it impossible for me to ever meet him on an equal footing in a fair fight.  The first time we tried it he came close to killing me, it was only by virtue of my own speed and the careful watchfulness of our teachers that I escaped getting killed.  After that, on the few occasions we ever matched up again I always tried to fight his unstoppable brawn through my own agility and quick thinking, and even then most of the time we’d come to an uncomfortable stalemate with no satisfied victor.  I never really worked out the key to beating him, because while he’s powerful as his massive bulk suggests, he’s got impressive speed and he knows how to move, partly through the intense drilling of our teachers but mostly down to natural talent.  But he never quite got a handle on my speed either, or the fact I could just move in ways he could never dream of doing.

Once I’m in range he doesn’t bother trying anything fancy, he just winds up the mace good and fast and brings it down with terrifying speed and so much sheer force I can hear it tearing through the air.  And he ain’t shooting for where I am either – he’s going for where he judges I will be.  By rights he should squash me like a bug right there.

Instead I’m gone, ducking sideways round the stroke and already aiming for the gap between his legs, winding up a thrust to ram deep into his crotch as I close the gap.  Except he’s already caught on to what I’m doing, so I just stab thin air as he sidesteps and I keep going past him.  I hear his grunt as he drags his mace free from the turf he’s just smashed it into, so I just throw myself forward as he swings it round after me, trailing a great swathe of torn muddy earth in its wake that barely misses me as I drop into a forward roll.

As I come up on the far side and see the wizard I realise how close I am now, and if I was less mindful of the threat right behind me I might even try for her anyway.  Then that increasingly familiar poof of displaced air hits me in the face as Gael’s portal opens right in front of me, and it seems they were ready coming out the other side because they just blast the bitch before she has time to react. Except she’s got tricks of her own, although it’s something I seen Gael use a few times too, their force-blast just smashing apart ineffectually over some kind of invisible shield she must throw up purely by reflex.

After that I got no choice but to turn my back on this latest brewing fight, instead turning into another roll to the right that barely saves me from getting cut in half by Gran’s big battleaxe.  I start to open ground between us the moment I’m up, dancing out in a rough circle around him while still seeking open ground behind me, and he doesn’t just charge right at me this time, instead coming after me at an angle as he starts to flank in the opposite direction.  He's watching me with cold determination now, our few matches likely flashing through his mind now as much as they are my own, so he’s remembering how tricky I can be.  I know him too well, I know he’s not stupid, he’s as smart as any other orc, and while he’s just as hot blooded he had years of training to teach him to counter his own temper and fight smart instead.  Not to mention whatever murderous unpleasantness Yevnik drummed into him after …

“Just remember, I gave you a chance, you stubborn little shit.”  His growl’s bitter, more regret than warning, but there’s still danger in his low rumble.  “You could’ve just left.”

“Yeah?  You just forgot what friendship means, you dumb thug.  Otherwise you’d know I can’t abandon my friends.”

A dark shape surges out of the shadows behind him on the left, drawing a sharp line low across his side, checking him before he can go for me.  If Granzun wasn’t even tougher than his thick leather plate that might’ve hurt him, but instead all the blade does is score a deep groove without ever meeting flesh and bring a deeper frown to the orc’s face.

Zuldrad turns at the end of his run, close on my left now, his right-hand dagger still cocked and ready as he inspects the damage.  When he sees just how ineffectual his attack actually was he simply frowns, a little perturbed maybe, but nothing more.  Certainly his voice is still calm and level as he simply mutters:  “Damn. That went different than I expected.”

“What’d you expect?”  I find myself growling back  “It’s gonna take more’n that to even dent him.”  Looking down at my sword and long knife, I see the rain’s essentially washed both clean of blood as I’ve been fighting.  After a moment’s thought I give my sword a quick whip and then ram it home into its scabbard again with a single swift motion before it can get wet again, then do the same with the knife.  They might not be the best fit for this fight as it is.

“What you thinking, then?”  Zul gives me a quick sidelong glance, wary of taking his eyes off Granzun as he regards us both, slowly adjusting his grip on his weapons as he squares his shoulders and sets his feet.  Mostly he looks fit to kill us both, but there’s a sliver in there, something that might still be a little reluctant.  Like he’s remembering … well, us.  He’s remembering who he was before Yevnik, before it all went to shit. When he still had us.  The only family he’s ever know.

It's just a flicker, and he���s fighting it.  But it’s there.  It could be enough.  I just wonder if I might actually be up to taking advantage of it …

Thing is, I really ain’t got a choice right now.  As I watch him something just … goes off behind Granzun, something that makes him twitch a little but nothing more, despite the fact it makes the whole place shudder.  It’s a loud cracking boom, accompanied by a great plume of bright blue smoke that bounces off the briefest flash of a big dome of aquamarine light.  Gael and the wizard are hurling everything they got at each other, and I got no idea how that’s gonna go, which terrifies me. So I have to fight my friend, maybe kill him.

Reaching up between my shoulder-blades, I slip my new knives free. This is gonna be close and dirty work, so I need the best I got.  “Stab, don’t try an’ cut.  Wear ‘im down, go for the gaps.  We gotta fight smart, not hard.”

When Zul growls this time, it’s just a wordless grunt, under his breath, he clearly ain’t too happy with this plan.  I hate it too, but there’s no choice.  He still tenses up, ready to spring, and I find myself doing the same. And Granzun sees us doing it, making him tense up too.

Then he stumbles to the side, twitching as he growls low, starts thrashing around, and it takes me a couple moments to work out why.  Two tiny figures are scrambling over his massive form, or at least they’re definitely significantly smaller than he is, and they’re moving fast as they stab him with their blades.  I’m another moment realising who it is that’s attacking him, though, until I catch a flash of bright yellow eyes and see one of them’s trying the best he can to jam his shortsword into Gran’s shoulder. It’s Brung, swinging savage, but the sudden, desperately wild thrashing of his target turns out to be enough to foul his aim, the sword barely managing to scrape a surface gouge across one of his pauldrons.  The other’s Darwyn, trying her best with one of her knives while she’s desperately clinging to leather plates with her other hand, but it’s little better than beestings to an orc Gran’s size.

“What d’you wanna –”

I don’t give Zul a chance to finish, I just growl:  “Just do what you can!”  and charge.  This is a fucking stupid idea but right now it’s the only one we got …

TO BE CONTINUED ...

#never split the party #The Creeping Bam #the adventures of The Creeping Bam #book 2 chapter 28 #fantasy fiction #original fiction #original fantasy fiction #to be continued

[milliedazzledust]

In Loving Memory (Bucky Barnes imagine)

Request: @missroro the reader is steve twin and she married to bucky after the blip, she had enough of the 'new captain america' thing shes really mad, so when walker and his friend start talking about joining forces she snap like she pull out a gun and pointing right at them, also sam ofc dont forget about sam. Sam trying to stop her while bucky "nah let her do her fun"

Words: 2021

Warning: !!TFATWS SPOILER!! without context - violence

A/N: wrote this today, it basically follows the events of ep3 of fatws but without context. I have a couple of exams this week so I won't be able to post until next saturday. Until then, enjoy

"You shouldn’t have gave him the shield"

Sam frowned, turning back to look at Bucky.

"I didn’t gave him the shield" He defended himself, making a point.

"Well, Steve definitely didn’t" Y/N ironically answered back.

He gave her a pointed stare. They had had this conversation countless times and Y/N never missed a chance to remind him of what she thought was a huge mistake.

"You are the reason this is happening, Sam. You chose to take on my brother’s legacy and threw it out the window"

The man didn’t reply and pursed his lips. He knew she didn’t mean any of her harsh words, she was angry and still mourning. If taking it out on him could make her feel better, he would let her.

"Y/N, stop" Bucky took a step toward his wife, clasping her hand in his metal one. He had hoped the physical contact would be enough to calm her down.

"He abandoned me, Sam" She continued, her voice filled with emotions. "He was gone and all I had left was memories. I chose this life for him, I fought with him, I believed in everything he represented. I looked up to him, to Captain America. And today, even those memories are gone, taken by the same government you and I were up against, mocked by clowns pretending to be heroes, all because you gave up"

The Falcon closed his eyes and dropped his head. She couldn’t see his point of view, or share his opinions when her judgment was clouded by so much pain. He wished she could understand the dilemma, the duality that represented the shield for him.

"Y/N, please, that’s enough" Bucky whispered next to her ear.

She turned her head toward him and as usual, his heart broke when he saw the torment in her eyes. She didn’t need to speak, she was an open book to him. They both had lost so much and yet were all each other had left. They were collateral damage, their own team against a world that wasn’t theirs anymore. She silently nodded, assuring him she was fine. Sam watched Bucky kissing her forehead and he furrowed his brow. He would never admit it but he was glad they had each other, because no one could carry that much pain alone without crumbling apart.

Before any of them could add anything, soldiers in blue and red erupted in the room, bursting through the door of the apartment where they were hiding in Latvia. Bucky instinctively grabbed Y/N and forced her body to move behind his. The two man stood in front of them, tall and proud, a smug smile on their lips.

"Alright, that’s it, your time is up" The man calling himself Captain America announced, the shield in one hand, the other pointing at the three avengers. "Tell me where Zemo is"

"We know you’re hiding him" His sidekick added.

"I’m ordering you to turn him over"

Sam eyed them up and down.

"Let’s be clear, the only thing you’re running here is your mouth" The Falcon firmly replied, crossing his arms.

"I gave you a chance to work with us" He mentioned.

" ‘For us’ is the correct way to put it, tough guy. And we said no." Y/N reminded him, her face showing how much she was annoyed.

"You’re obviously in over your head so I suggest you turn back and go" Sam argued.

"You really want this conversation to go there ?" The hero threatened.

Bucky straightened up when he felt Y/N tensing. He knew she was already on the verge of snapping. One wrong word from the man she hated and this could go down to hell.

"Should I put down the shield ?" He continued to challenge Sam. "Make it fair?"

The woman groaned and when John Walker dropped his weapon, without a second thought, she grabbed the nearest knife and threw it right at his face. The man had barely enough time to move back and his eyes rose in surprise when the blade stuck itself into the wall with force.

"Sorry, it slipped" She ironically explained, shrugging.

"You don’t want to play this game with me" He tried to intimidate her, tilting his head to the side.

She smiled, pleased he was giving her the opportunity to smack his face. Bucky clenched his fists when he saw her walking in front of Walker. Without tearing her eyes away from his, she seized her knife and pulled it out of the wall with a sharp movement.

"I think someone should teach you a lesson, Walker" She told him in a low tone.

"Are you offering ?" He challenged her.

"Don’t tempt me"

"You’re lucky you’re his sister" He grinned. "But don’t push it. This Captain America is not as lenient as the previous was"

Bucky swore under his breath. It was too late now. And just as Sam looked at him with concern, Y/N threw her fist in a curved punch at the soldier. He used his forearm to counter the blow, but she was faster and had far more experience. Using the momentum, her foot rose up and kicked him in the face. The man was thrown back, shaking his head in confusion.

"We should do something" Sam advised the former assassin.

"No. Let her have her fun" He crossed his arms, harboring a small smirk.

The soldier tried to hit her back, but even when he took the shield she blocked his attack. His sidekick soon joined the fight and distracted her for a second, just enough time for Walker to punch her. Immediately, she felt the taste of blood in her mouth, but no pain. She was passed that, far too pissed to feel anything.

Another blow on her chest send her to the ground and Hoskins hold her down while his friend was about to hit her with her brother’s shield. He raised it in the air, with every intention of beating her, but a strong metal hand stopped him in his movement. A very infuriated Bucky stood before him, his blue eyes darkening with anger. He firmly took the weapon, knocked Hoskins out with it and threw it across the room.

"If you wanted to make it fair, you shouldn’t have chosen to hit my wife" His tone was terrifying.

Walker didn’t seem as confident anymore. Bucky looked imposing, brute force ready to strike. His metal arm clenched in a fist and, without warning, it collided with the soldier’s jaw, sending him a few feet away. He strode to the man on the ground and grabbed him by the collar of his uniform

"This is all easy for you, isn’t it ?" Walker spoke with venom, staring at Bucky. "All that serum running through your veins"

With a swift movement, Y/N took the shield and launched it with power right on the soldier’s chest. The blow was so violent his body crashed into a door before landing on the floor. She was furious by his statement and he could see it with every step she made toward him. She grabbed the gun attached to her thigh and pointed it at his face.

"Lesson number one: learn when to shut up. Especially when you don't know what you're talking about" She was fuming but had not intention on killing the man, despite the sheer desire to do so.

She didn’t realize Sam was next to her until she saw his hand lowering her gun.

"This isn’t what Steve would want." He calmly expressed. "Remember, there’s always another way"

Her lips quivered and she closed her eyes, remembering how many times her brother had told her that. She let him take the weapon and looked up at him. The conviction and kindness in his stare were enough. He didn’t have to say anything. Every words she needed to hear, he spoke them in silence.

She turned back to Bucky and he cupped her face, inspecting the bruise on her skin. He seemed ready to go back and beat the man down. Y/N softly smiled and clasped her hands around his wrists. He stroke her cheek and pulled her toward him before carefully kissing her lips.

"Good ?" He asked in a soft voice he only used with her.

"Good"

It was something between them, a single word they spoke every time they fought. Wherever they were, whomever they were up against, if one of them asked, the other had to answer. It was their intimate way to always know they were alright.

Later that day, Sam and Bucky had decided to go talk to the leader of the Flag Smasher, Karli Morgenthau, while Y/N had been charged to follow Walker and Hoskins. As soon as she had seen they were going after the young super soldier, she had warned her friends about the danger. She knew enough about the new Captain to guess he had no intention on arresting Karli. He wanted to make justice himself. She pitied his sidekick. He seemed like a decent man with good ideas struggling to find virtue on the wrong side of the battle. He was Walker’s collateral damage.

She wondered what Steve would think of all that if he could see them fighting both super soldiers and Captain America. He never cared for the star and stripes, never used his shield to harm. His heart was with the people he defended. Even when it had been against Tony, he pursued what he believed was best. Was that what Walker was trying to do ? She couldn’t know. But she was sure of one thing, the man had nothing in common with Steve. Pride, ego and selfishness were never traits anyone would have used to describe her brother. She couldn’t bear for him to be replaced, especially to a man that didn’t share his morals or any of his opinions. The shield he was carrying wasn’t just a weapon, it was her brother’s symbol of hope, a symbol he had fought so hard to forge. The man made the uniform, not the other way around. That’s what Walker didn’t get. Up until that point, people had not been following Captain America, they had been following Steve Rogers.

Standing in that public square, she didn’t realize she was crying until she felt Bucky entwined his fingers with hers. She couldn’t avert her eyes from the horrific scenery. Powerlessly, she watched a man she didn’t know being executed. His opponent was merciless, striking with determination and rage, using the only piece of memory she had left of her brother to bring terror and death. Frozen on the spot in the middle of the crowd, she could see the fear in all those strangers eyes and it felt like grief coming in waves, a shard in her guts that would never leave. It felt like this particular moment was choking the breath out of her body, short circuiting her mind. What was whole once completely shattered and she couldn’t find the strength to be angry anymore. All her brother had built had fallen apart in the split of a second and all the world had left was a bloodied image of his symbol of hope. A symbol that was no more.

“Sam...” She called him, almost like a scared child.

“I know...”

Both men looked worried. Y/N felt Bucky’s hand trembling and she squeezed him harder. She could easily guess how he felt. Steve had saved both of them, he had gave them a purpose, had allowed the former assassin to be more than the weapon Hydra had made of him. Pieces by pieces, he had brought their family back together. And as they both stood there, witnessing the horrifying end of his legacy, Bucky realized everything his bestfriend had fought for was turning into dust.

"I’m sorry" Y/N whispered to Sam. "But there’s no other way now"

Her husband dropped his head, trying to regain a sense of control over his emotions. Wordlessly agreeing with her, he turned to their friend.

“He has to be stopped”

Tags: @taina-eny

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky x reader #the winter soldier #the winter soldier imagine #the winter soldier imagines #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier imagines #winter soldier fanfiction #tfatws #fatws #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #sam wilson

[enchantestuff]

hatred - Charles Leclerc

I think I might make this into a mini series with an enemies to civil with each other to friends to lovers kind of vibe but I'm still not sure, anyways here's Charles x reader wanting to rip each others throats but instead end up ripping each others clothes off

gonna dedicate this to the lovely @yungbludz​ happy birthday <33

GIF NOT MINE

warnings; smut as per usual, Charles being very egotistical, choking, language, enjoy <3

2k words 

part two

It was safe to say you and Charles hated each other. You knew hate was a strong word, but you also knew that you felt nothing but hatred for the man. You hated his cocky smile and the fact that everyone seemed to be obsessed with him. You also hated the fact that you had to spend the whole weekend with him.

You worked for Ferrari, meaning that, unfortunately, you had to spend a lot of time with Charles. You were actually excited when you first got the job of being Charles Leclerc's PR manager. You had admired the driver and couldn’t wait to work alongside him, but that all changed once you actually met him and realised what an ass he really was. Everyone else loved him, of course, because he seemed to be nice to every single person on the planet except you.

You and a select number of the Ferrari team had been invited to a special charity event taking place in the ballroom of a luxurious hotel. You had all decided to check into the hotel the day before the event, in order to save time and familiarise yourself with the venue. Of course, according to your job description, you also had to run through the possible questions Charles could be asked with him.

Although Charles loathed you, he had to admit you were good at your job and managed to prepare him for every possible scenario, which is why he hadn’t begged Mattia to fire you, at least not yet.

You sighed as you reached the check in desk, all you wanted to do was flop onto the hotel bed and sleep until the morning. You gave the lady behind the desk your name and watched as she quickly typed on the computer in front of her. “Ah yes, Y/N and Charles, room 506”

Your eyes widened at her words as you shook your head. “No no, that can’t be right” you pleaded as you leaned your arms against the counter.

“Im sorry ma'am, but the booking is for the both of you” she explained with apologetic eyes as she handed you the room key.

“Take your time, Y/N. Not like we aren’t all exhausted from our long trip” you heard Charles scold from behind you. You quickly turned around and shoved the room key into his chest.

“Politetly, go fuck yourself, Leclerc” you muttered as you shouldered past him and walked straight to Mattia on the other side of reception. Mattia sighed once you walked over and gestured for you to begin arguing with him, he knew it was going to happen.

“Why? Why would you stick me in a room with that-that imbecile!” you snapped.

“Listen, Y/N, i know how much you dislike him and vice versa, but everyone had to be paired with someone and I thought this was the best option for you both” he explained with a soothing voice.

“Why do I have to be with her?” you heard Charles ask from behind you. You felt small standing in front of him, his broad frame practically trapping you between him and Mattia.

“Y/N is your PR manager, it's her job to prepare you for this event” Mattia once again calmly explained

“And she couldn’t do that over breakfast?” Charles inquired, you could feel his tense gaze on the back of your head and you whipped around scoffing at him as you placed your hands on his hips.

“Don’t act like this was my idea! Not everyone wants to share a room with you Charles, get your head out of your ass”

Charles opened his mouth to throw a rude remark your way but Mattia stopped him before he got the chance. “The both of you are sharing this room, whether you like it or not. I think everyone would prefer if you took this time to sort out your problems instead of bickering like children. I’ll see you both at breakfast. Goodnight,” he scolded as he walked off with his luggage in tow.

You felt your cheeks redden as embarrassment creeped up your shoulders. “Are you trying to get me fired?” you accused Charles as you grabbed your own luggage and made way for the elevator.

He shrugged in response, “Wouldn’t be the worst thing” he muttered, stepping inside with you. You pressed your floor number and sighed in frustration. “Can you stop breathing so loud?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“It was a sigh, dipshit.”

“Trust me, i don't want to be near you as much as you don't want to be near me”

“Glad we're on the same page” you replied, stepping out of the elevator and storming to your room, which in hindsight was a foolish idea as Charles had the key and you had to wait for him as he took his sweet time walking up the hallway.

He unlocked the door with a smug look on his face and stepped in before you, dropping his luggage on the floor as he surveyed the room. “You have got to be kidding me” he complained once he saw the double bed in the middle of the room.

“Oh what is it now, Charles?” you asked as you shut the door behind you “is the carpet not to your liking? Is it too bright? Are there no chocolates on the pillow” you continued and slipped off your shoes, “do you want me to - oh shit” you cursed as you saw the predicament you both were in. “Looks like you're sleeping on the floor” you shrugged whilst walking towards the bed.

“I am NOT sleeping on the floor,” Charles complained.

“What? And you think I am?” you argued, once again placing your hands on your hips.

“I don’t see why not,” he commented, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I am not sharing a bed with you, Leclerc! So you,” you jabbed a finger at his chest, “are going to have to step off your mighty throne and take the gentleman approach and sleep,” jab “on,” jab “the floor,” you snapped.

Charles raised his eyebrow as he stared at you. You could cut the tension between the two of you with a knife, it was almost unbearable. You had never fought this long, somebody had always interrupted you both before you got the chance to really push each other's buttons. “I'm going to say this nice and slow, sweetheart,” Charles growled, taking a step forward, you in turn took a step back as you removed your finger from his chest, “I’ll take the high road, we can share the bed just this once, as long as you stop acting like the spoiled princess that you will never be” he continued to walk towards you as he spoke and you were eventually trapped against the wall.

Charles moved his hand to lie on the wall next to your head, the distance between the two of you becoming smaller and smaller by the second. “I might be ready to step off my throne but are you ready to be a good girl and step off yours too?” he concluded. 

“Bite me, Charles” you retorted and something in the both of you snapped as you grabbed his face in your hands and he roughly grabbed your waist. Your lips violently pressed against his as your tongues practically fought against each other. You almost moaned at the force of his kiss, but refused to give him the satisfaction.

Charles pulled away, giving your mouth a final short kiss before he moved to mark your neck. “Come on, princess. Stop being stubborn for once in your life and let me hear the noises that you can make''

You however kept your mouth shut, Charles smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “If that's how you want to play it,” he smirked before gently grabbing your breast and slipping his hands into the waistband of your leggings. He rubbed circles on your clit as he pinched your nipples. “I want to hear you, sweetheart,” he grunted.

You rolled your eyes back in pleasure and involuntarily let out a moan. Charles felt his dick twitch in his pants and cockily grinned as he kissed right under your nose. “Good girl,” he whispered. It wasn't long before his trousers were discarded as well as your own leggings. You hadn’t moved however and were still pressed up against the wall. “Are you sure you want this?” he asked and although you felt your heart skip a beat you rolled your eyes at him and nodded.

“Yes, please just - just hurry up” you squirmed against the wall. That seemed to be all the validation he needed. He slowly put a condom on before easing into you. You scrunched your eyes at the uncomfortable feeling and tapped him to move. Your lips parting on their own accord as the feeling was replaced with pure pleasure. Charles forcefully grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, providing him with a better angle for both himself and you.

“O-oh shit” you moaned as you scraped your nails down his shoulders to his arms, which left harsh red marks in their wake. Charles moaned at the feeling and you were almost aroused by the sound. Almost.

One of Charles hands were digging into the soft flesh of your thigh while the other moved to wrap itself around your neck, his signature pinky ring digging into the flesh of your skin causing you to mimic his actions and let out a moan at the pain.

“You like that?” he grunted as he continued to thrust into you, lightly placing some pressure on your throat, not enough to suffocate you, he didn't hate you that much, but enough for you to enter a state of pure bliss.

“I hate you, Leclerc” you found yourself muttering but you certainly did not hate him at that very moment.

“Feelings mutual, love”

You continued to scrape your nails across his back, desperate to pull more moans out of him. Charles however, didn't like being the only vulnerable one and removed his hands from your throat, he grabbed both of your hands in his own and shoved them upwards, beginning his assault on your chest.

Your toes curled as he hit all the right spaces, you knew you were close but you really didn’t want to be the first one to let go. Charles could feel the clenching of your walls and smirked into your chest. “Are you close, princess?” he asked, bringing his mouth to your lips and for some reason you found yourself kissing him back.

“No” you blatantly lied.

You moved your head closer to him when he pulled away but he refused to connect your lips once more and you found yourself pouting at the lack of attention. God, how pathetic had you become.

“Now, i knew you were a spoiled brat but i didn't take you for a liar as well”

“Glad to know your ego has no off moments, Charles” you scoffed and were about to start an argument before he began slowly pounding into you, his precise thrusts made it extremely difficult to formulate a sentence let alone hold onto the knot in your stomach. So, against your brain telling you not to, you let go.

You would have fallen onto the ground if it wasn’t for Charles' strong grip trapping you against the wall and his own body. The noises that he made as he reached his own high caused your heart to flutter in your chest and you began to wonder if having sex with him was a bad idea.

“Are you okay?” he asked after he had pulled away from you. You nodded your head as you furrowed your eyebrows

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you asked.

You were surprised the both of you were capable of having a normal conversation, but you supposed nothing could be normal between you after that.

Charles gently ran a finger across your neck and by the look on his face you knew you looked worse for wear. “I kind of lost myself in the moment, I’m sorry if I hurt you. Really I am” he clarified.

“Its okay” you sighed as you rubbed your neck, “lets just go to sleep”

“I’m still not sleeping on the floor”

“Just stay on your side of the bed, Leclerc”

#Charles leclerc #Charles Leclerc imagine #Charles Leclerc smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #forumla 1 imagine #f1 #formula one imagine

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

Let Me Love You (Jeong Yunho and Song Mingi)

Pairing: Jeong Yunho × Plus sized! Reader (Female) × Song Mingi

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst

Summary: After finding out their girlfriend has been feeling insecure about her body, Mingi and Yunho take matters into their own hands to remind her that she is beautiful.

Word Count: 4.5+K

Warnings: Body insecurities (remember you are beautiful just the way you are), poly relationship, oral (female receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms (female receiving), unprotected sex (always use protection). (This was utter trash)

Taglist: @little-precious-baby @multidreams-and-desires @galaxteez @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @brie02 @deja-vux @couchpotatoaniki @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny @nanamarkie @minhyukmyluv @yunsangoveryonder

Special requested by @monbaebes

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Watching her favorite boys play around on the seashore, Y/N chuckled softly as she returned her gaze on the fruit in front of her. Picking up a small knife, she carefully began peeling some of the mangoes, apples and other of the juicy produce they had brought with them. Meanwhile she focused on making sure they had something to replenish their energy with, one of her lovers was concentrated on building a rather complicated architecture with the sand under his feet. Slowly but surely, the castle was beginning to take form and the man couldn't be much happier or pleased than seeing his masterpiece come to life.

"Mingi, think fast!" The other tall male shouted as he tossed the beach ball he was holding in the other's direction.

Mingi's naturally small eyes widened significantly as he witnessed his creation crumble down due to the impact of the beach ball colliding on top of it.

"Oops! Sorry bud!" The culprit grimaced as he saw the result of his little trick.

Immediately standing up, Mingi began chasing after his friend.

"I'm going to kill you Yunho!" He threatened, Yunho running and taking cover behind the oblivious girl who saw nothing that took place.

"What in the world?" She looked back and forth between the two guys.

Pointing an accusatory finger at him, Mingi let out a huff.

"He destroyed my sand castle that I was working so hard on!" He exclaimed.

"I didn't mean to." Yunho defended himself.

Not wanting them to get into a silly fight during their vacation, Y/N began to calm them both down.

"Come on you guys, you're making a scene over things kids would argue over. Seriously, this is why we hardly go out."

Hearing her displeased tone, the boys quickly straightened up their act and decided to just let it go. Seeing the delicious fruit in front of them, the young men sat at opposite sides of Y/N and dug into the food. She was grateful she opted for packing plenty of fruit given how much her boyfriends ate. She sometimes wondered if it was because they were so tall or because their stomachs were a bottomless pit. She decided a long time ago that it was probably a combination of the two.

As they enjoyed their snacks while enjoying the view in front of them, Y/N's wandering eyes soon locked themselves on the two women sitting not far from them. Although she wanted to look away before any negative thoughts clouded her mind, she couldn't help but admire their long, slim legs, their small waists and flat tummies. She envied their shape that they confidently showed off in their revealing and sensual bikinis, making more than a few heads turn in their direction to rake their eyes on their glamorous bodies. And there she was, feeling too big in her cami top and shorts.

Looking away with eyes falling on the strawberry she was holding, Y/N suddenly felt an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Losing her appetite, she tossed the fruit back in the container and just sat back, unable to hide her uncomfortable face which Yunho noticed right away.

"Honey, is something wrong? Do you not feel well?" He asked which immediately sparked the attention of the other male.

Although she didn't feel well indeed, Y/N didn't want to cause any alarm or have them fret over her behavior and decided to make up an excuse.

"I guess maybe I'm just exhausted after spending so much time out in the sun. I think I'm just going to go back to the hotel room. You guys stay here if you want."

Plastering on a reassuring smile, she gave them no chance to argue or say anything else as she quickly got off the beach towel and started heading back towards the hotel that was just in front of the beach. Her arms were crossed protectively in front of her chest, head lowered to avoid eye contact with the young men who were heading in the opposite direction. She shut her eyes when she heard them snicker behind her, no doubt making fun of her figure. She just wanted to lock herself in the room and crawl under the covers of the bed, just her alone with nobody else.

But the sudden calls for her from behind let her know that it wasn't going to be the case.

"Geez, couldn't you at least wait for us baby?" Mingi pouted as he linked an arm around her.

"Sorry, didn't want to cut your playtime at the beach short." She felt even more bad knowing they decided to follow her back.

"It's fine darling. It was getting too hot anyways. Besides we can have just as much fun in the hotel room as we do in the beach." Yunho added, leaning his face so he could whisper in her ear.

"Or maybe even more fun." He snickered suggestively, which made her blush and cling closer to the male on her right, who simply let out a small snort.

"Don't tease her Yunho. You know how shy she gets with these things." Unable to hold back from making her even more flustered, Mingi's hand that was on her waist dropping to slightly pinch her butt cheek.

"And it makes me want to eat her up even more."

With a soft huff, she shoved his hand away from him and simply walked faster to hide from their vulgar teasing that had her cheeks burning bright red.

"She's so adorable." Yunho chuckled, to which Mingi agreed with. Taking advantage of the fact she couldn't hear them, both of them started whispering a few things amongst themselves, huge grins plastering on their faces as they planned out how they were going to spend their night with their lovely girlfriend.

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Staring at her reflection in the long body mirror, Y/N cringed at the sight. She knew the guys were waiting outside in the hot tub for her, no doubt aching to see her in the dark blue bikini they had picked out for her, a color Mingi aggressively shoved into Yunho who wanted to go instead for a more baby pink choice, but eventually caved into the other's choice. She didn't feel up to going out in it though, she felt it unflattering and unsuitable for someone her size. Stripping out of it, she tossed on a tank top and shorts once more, wanting to be as covered up as much as possible. Feeling satisfied with that, she quickly came out of the bathroom, not wanting to make the boys wait any longer.

Hearing the glass door of the room slide open, the young men excitedly looked over hoping to see their gorgeous girlfriend in a swimsuit they bought her, but their faces fell flat when they saw her clothing choice.

"What happened to the bikini we bought you? Oh god! Please don't tell me we got the wrong size." Mingi groaned, already beating himself up for an imaginary mistake.

"No it fit fine, I just.... I just prefer being like this." She replied as she slipped her body inside the hot water, setting herself in between both of the men, who wasted no time in drawing their bodies closer to her, effectively trapping her.

Looking up from one and then to the other, Y/N knew by the smiles on their face that they were up to something else and it wasn't particularly pure. Taking the lead as he usually did, Yunho brought a hand up to trace the outline of her jaw.

"So pretty..." He muttered as he bent his face down to hers.

Starting off with small pecks, Yunho eventually pressed his lips deeper into hers, hand still cupping her jaw so his thumb could draw circles around her cheek. Y/N moaned when she felt his tongue dart forward and infiltrate her mouth. She gave in and allowed him absolute control, moaning louder when he pulled her tongue inside his own mouth and briefly sucking on it. For a few minutes they were lost in their little world until the third person in the relationship reminded them of his presence.

"Ok you got your turn, now let me make out with my baby."

As soon as Yunho's mouth was detached from her lips, it was quickly replaced by Mingi's, who unlike the other male, was more fervent and rougher with his kisses. Whereas Yunho preferred a lot more tongue action, Mingi enjoyed nipping at his lover's lips. Indeed he made sure to get her lips as swollen and red as possible. His teeth endlessly tugged at her bottom lip, a smirk appearing on his features each time he drew out a gasp or whine from the girl in front of him. Her sounds intensified when she felt Yunho's lips occupying themselves on her shoulder and neck, leaving small love bites on the visible patches of skin. His large hand dove underwater to clasp at the end of her top, rising it up slowly so he could take it off her.

Feeling her insecurities rise up once more, Y/N quickly withdrew his hand off her body, ending the makeout session with her other boyfriend in the process.

"Baby did we do something wrong? Did we push it too far?" Yunho immediately worried that they hurt her in any way. Mingi was also mirroring the same feeling his friend was bearing.

"No, it's not you guys...it's me."

Both of the men looked at each other in confusion.

"Are you sick? Is that it? Why didn't you say something before." Mingi brought a palm over her forehead, attempting to figure out if she had a fever or not.

Shaking her head, Y/N took a deep breath before she went any further.

"I'm not sick I just hate my body ok? I hate being chubby, it makes all the clothes I wear look ugly on me. I wish I was skinnier like some of the female idols you guys see almost on the daily. Maybe then I'd be more attractive for you guys.."

Her confession broke them to pieces. They couldn't believe she felt that way and they cursed themselves for not noticing earlier on about their girlfriend's insecurities.

"But darling, you are very attractive just the way you are." Mingi spoke up, though they could tell his words didn't have much of an effect on her.

Joining in to make sure she felt loved, Yunho tilted Y/N's face so she could clearly see his sincerity at his next words.

"Listen to me, your body is very gorgeous just the way it is. You may not believe it, but trust me when I say Mingi and I are absolutely crazy about your body. It makes you more irresistible and we wouldn't have you any other way."

His words lightened her mood just a bit, a hint of a smile starting to form on the corners of her lips.

"And we're not the only ones who think so. There were some assholes who were shamelessly checking you out while we were trying to catch up with you back on the beach." Mingi added, face frowning as he recalled the way they heard the group of men talking about their girlfriend in such a lewd manner.

"What? N-no, I'm sure you got it wrong. They were probably making fun of me." Her theory however was quickly shut down by Yunho.

"No baby, we heard them clearly as they went on and on about how hot you look....among other things that weren't exactly family friendly." Although he tried to hide it, Yunho couldn't keep his teeth from gritting against each other in a jealous manner.

"And we saw how their faces kept turning to stare at your ass." Mingi recalled rather unhappily.

Y/N felt even more embarrassed now, her hands coming up to hide her reddened face, which continued to stay hidden even when she felt both males press themselves into her.

"But if that still doesn't convince you, how about you let us demonstrate how much we adore your figure?"

Peeking out and uncovering her face, Y/N took in their hungry gazes that were awaiting for permission to devour her. Although she nodded slightly, it wasn't enough for them.

"Darling use your words please. We'd much rather hear you say how much you want us as well." Mingi deepened his voice enough to cause an effect on her.

Biting down on her lip, Y/N's voice shyly spoke out.

"Please.... touch me." She gulped before uttering her next words.

"Make love to me."

Finally hearing the magic words, both men stood up, their bodies drenched and pouring water. Taking hold of Y/N, Mingi brought her out of the hot tub as well and sat her in front of him on the wood extension of the hot tub. Reaching for her shirt, he quickly peeled it off her body and moved it somewhere else while Yunho took care of her lower half, removing her shorts and equally discarding them somewhere else.

"Fuck, she looks so damn pretty." Yunho marveled at the sight of her bare, soaked body right in front of him.

Snaking his hands down her torso, Mingi gripped the top of her thighs so he could pry them open, letting Yunho gaze into her exposed heat. He let out a chuckle at his friend's star struck expression.

"Well? Don't just stand there like an idiot. Put those long ass fingers of yours to work." Mingi told him.

Instructing Y/N to keep her legs wide open, Mingi brought his hands back up her body so they could cup her breasts. He squeezed them in between his fingers, astonished at feeling how soft and tender they were. While she was still getting adjusted to the feeling of Mingi's hands around her boobs, Yunho came up in front of her and began kissing along her collarbone, making her tilt her head back.

"God your boobs are so squishy." Mingi groaned as he pressed them against each other, thumbs tweaking at her nipples.

While Mingi's hands continued playing around with her chest, Yunho took advantage of her dazed state to brush his fingers along one of her thighs. Creeping it closer in between her legs, his thumb started slow and gentle motions on her clit. He smiled against her neck when he felt her shudder as he pressed down on her button.

"Mingi be sure to hold her steady while I finger her pretty pussy. You know how she tends to get."

Removing his hands off her breasts, Mingi proceeded to move them to her hips, knowing fully well they'd be wanting to buck into Yunho's hand. Y/N looked down and watched intently as one of Yunho's fingers slowly slipped inside her hole. She gaped with amazement as he effortlessly slid his finger out of her body and then back inside. It always amazed her how such a little action could make her so weak and pliant towards her lovers. Yunho of course knew this and loved to use it against her. Smiling ever so smugly, he inserted a second finger into her hole, his pace starting to pick up. Her breath hitched as she craned her neck back to rest her head on Mingi's shoulder, the latter taking the opportunity to plaster kisses on the side of her cheek.

"Do you like having Yunho's fingers inside of you babygirl?" He asked, lips brushing against her earlobe.

"Y-yes." She responded.

When her thighs tried to close, Mingi was quick to pry them back apart, his grip tight enough that they could leave prints on her skin.

"No babygirl, keep those pretty legs of yours open for Yunho."

Knowing exactly what to do to tip her over the edge, Yunho angled his fingers upward so they could rub at her sweet spot as he continued to wiggle his fingers inside of her. A third finger was added to the combination, which had the recipient crying out from the stretch.

"How on earth are you always so tight babygirl? It's like we don't fuck you enough." Yunho expressed, thumb circling on her nub with more detailed and faster motions.

The wet and sloppy sounds emanating from between her legs were like music to both men's ears. They enjoyed hearing how wet they could make her become, Mingi especially licked his lips as he saw how her folds started to glisten from all the arousal seeping out of her.

"Shit, her pussy looks so good. I can't wait to eat her out."

Shooting a smirk to his friend, Yunho worked his fingers deeper into his girlfriend's core, thrusting them sporadically in an effort to bring her closer to her high.

"Well just let me get her cum with my fingers and then I'll leave her in your hands..... or should I say mouth?"

Hearing them say what they were going to do to her made Y/N shudder. With eyes shut, her voice slightly broke into half cries half whimpers as she came on Yunho's fingers. Mingi's hold on her thighs prevented her from shutting her legs and thus making her orgasm feel more intense as it washed all throughout her body. Making sure to keep his fingers lodged inside until she came down from her high, Yunho gently leaned in to press a kiss on the corner of Y/N's mouth.

"Look babygirl."

Opening her eyes, she was met with the sight of Yunho's fingers pulling out of her heat. They were covered completely in her cum, leaving her surprised that she could produce that much from just his fingers. Keeping eye contact with her, he brought his fingers up to his lips and licked them clean.

"Oh Mingi, you're going to definitely enjoy eating her out." Yunho locked eyes with the other male, sending him a knowing wink.

"Then I guess I better not let her juices go to waste."

Moving her body so she could face him, Mingi layed down on his back and motioned for Y/N to move herself on top of his face, which she hesitated to do. Sensing what she was worried about, Mingi smiled at her.

"Baby, it's ok. I want to feel those thick thighs of yours on me. Now come over here and smother my face with your sweet pussy."

Getting help from Yunho who took hold of her arms, he placed her right on top of Mingi's face. Spreading her lips apart, Mingi's tongue came up to lick up the leftover arousal from Yunho's previous fingering session. Y/N couldn't help but gasp not just from the over sensitivity of her pussy, but from Mingi's warm mouth consuming her taste. Closing his eyes, Mingi lost himself in the sweetness her body had to offer. Flicking his tongue out, he made sure to pay close attention to her clit, circling the tip of his wet muscle around it. As if they had a mind of their own, Y/N's hips began to slowly grind down against Mingi's tongue movements. When she noticed what she was doing, she made an attempt to stop her motions.

"No babygirl. Show Mingi how much you enjoy having him eat you out. He told you to smother his face and that's what you're going to give him. After all, that is what he wants. Don't you Mingi?" Yunho piped up.

The man underneath Y/N responded with a muffled moan against her wetness. His hands clasped themselves on her ass, harshly slamming her down until her heat was covering the entirety of his face. Guiding her hips, he made her drag her core along his tongue over and over, slurping up every inch of tender flesh without leaving any patch dry. Y/N began panting, each stroke of Mingi's tongue making her fall deeper in that hazy state she had been in just moments ago while Yunho had his fingers knuckles deep in her. And both men knew it, they had learned and memorized each pitch of her sounds and every tick of her body to know what she liked and when she'd come crumbling down from the pleasure they gave her.

Knowing she needed a little encouragement, Yunho began peppering open mouth kisses along her neck as his fingers brushed along the sides of her waist.

"Go ahead love. Cum all over Mingi's face. Make a mess of his pretty face." He softly instructed her. A pleased grin framed Yunho's face as merely seconds later, Y/N fulfilled his command. Mingi groaned wildly as his face was smothered by her mound, her thighs trembling and clenching around his skull as another flood of her juices poured out onto his face. Making sure to lick up as much as possible, Mingi detached his mouth from her reddened folds with an audible pop, a proud smirk on his face that he was not wiping off at any moment.

Knowing she was still too worked up from her orgasm, Yunho carefully lifted her up into his arms. Gesturing for Mingi to follow, he carried her bridal style back inside their room, where he layed her down on the soft king sized bed. Stripping themselves out of their swimming trunks, the men whispered a few words amongst each other before reaching the decision of who got to have her first. The beaming look on Mingi's features answered her thoughts on who it was.

Setting himself right next to her, Mingi began stroking his already hard length.

"Come here baby. Hop your pretty self on top and ride me." He motioned for her to sit on top of him.

With hands pressed to his chest, Y/N slowly sunk herself down until his entire cock was safely nestled inside her. Hissing at the excruciatingly tight grip her tender flesh had on him, Mingi looked over to Yunho, who already had one hand wrapped tightly on his dick.

"We really should fuck her more often, she's unbelievably tight." His voice rasped out.

"Well why don't you do something about it? You're literally inside her idiot." Yunho reminded him rather agitated, anxious to get his own turn with his beloved girl.

With sharp cries, Y/N held onto the headboard in front of her as the man underneath her started pounding his hips up into her. Their moans were filling up the room, along with the slick sounds protruding from between their thighs, where they were connected. Yunho eagerly watched them, his hand working to stroke his twitching cock, making sure not to speed up in case he accidentally made himself cum. He knew he'd get his turn soon, but for the moment, he reveled at seeing the two individuals he cared about the most be so intimate with each other. He watched as their facial muscles started contorting and scrunching up with pleasure, their bodies starting to layer a thin sheen of sweat from the intensity of their love making.

Already vulnerable from the previous 2 orgasms, Y/N started to feel that familiar heat pooling in her lower abdomen, spreading under her skin and making her dizzy with lust. Mingi's pace turned slightly more rough. He loved watching as he made his girlfriend ride his cock, especially when he was blessed with the sight of her breasts bouncing right in front of him. He thought it was one of the most amazing sights to behold. Sensing that she was close given how worked out they had gotten her before and by the way her sounds grew more frantic, Mingi gripped at her sides to hold her down as he bucked his cock deep enough to have her crying out.

"That's it babygirl. Let yourself go. Cum all over me." He grunted at her, feeling himself reach his own brink from the frenetic pace he set for themselves.

With aching thighs, Y/N violently shook on top of him, vision darkening as her mind only payed attention to the sensation of her walls clamping around her lover's cock. Feeling overly constricted to the point of hurting in a most delicious grip, Mingi quickly pulled himself out of her core before any of his cum could start spilling inside her. With the help of his hand, he finished himself off by spurting drops of cum onto her thighs and stomach, some of them dripping off to land on the sheets underneath them.

"Oh my God." Mingi threw his head back onto the pillow behind him as he tried to steady his racing heart.

Finally seeing his cue to come in, Yunho fitted himself on the large king sized bed and carefully pulled Y/N off Mingi's lap to sat her on top of his own. Whereas Mingi preferred having her face him, Yunho opted to keep her facing away, pressing his chest onto her back. His voice gently shushed her whimpers as he sunk her down onto his overly endowed length. Fitting himself in her always took a little longer due to his size.

"You're doing so well baby." He cooed in her ear as he waited for her to adjust to him. Mingi was definitely right in exclaiming how tight she was, he himself was gritting his teeth at how hard her walls were squeezing at his shaft.

Knowing she was overly sensitive, clit swollen and folds puffed up, Yunho decided to go for a more slow and sensual pace. His hands gently rolled her hips to move on top of him, soft and blissful sighs being breathed out of their mouths. He made sure not to overwhelm her, and he himself wanted to enjoy the moment for as long as possible. When he heard her agitated moan, he let her relax on top of him as his hips took over. He was careful not to snap his hips too aggressively, still being gentle and precise with each thrust he shot up at her. With one hand sliding in between her legs, his fingers brushed against her pinkied clit before carefully circling around it.

"You're so beautiful my dear. Absolutely perfect." He murmured against her neck whilst his lips pressed tiny kisses on her warm skin.

Y/N gasped when she felt his pace slightly speed up, causing her body to jolt forward, which was stopped from falling when Yunho's arms held her in a tight embrace to keep her close to him. She knew she was definitely waking up sore the next morning, her thighs were already burning from cumming so much and from being bounced on top of two monster cocks that belonged to her tall boyfriends. Her 4th orgasm of the night slowly and silently crept up on her, rendering her almost numb to everything except the dull sting of her juices pouring out once more onto Yunho's cock. Even after she felt him pull out and coat her backside with his hot seed, she was still in hazy state, worn out after all the attention the two men bestowed upon them. The last thing she saw before passing out on the bed was Yunho's voice purring in her ear:

"Remember Mingi and I love you just the way you are..."

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez reactions #ateez angst #ateez yunho #ateez mingi #ateez yunho imagines #ateez yunho smut #ateez yunho scenarios #ateez yunho fanfiction #ateez yunho fluff #ateez mingi smut #ateez mingi imagines #ateez mingi fanfiction #ateez mingi scenarios #ateez mingi fluff #jeong yunho #song mingi #jeong yunho smut #song mingi smut #jeong yunho scenarios #song mingi scenarios #jeong yunho fanfic #song mingi fanfic

[therewasatale]

his scars

On Ao3.

Summary:  Each Lord had their own rules, and you have broken Lord Heisenberg's.

Note: I saw a bunch of fanarts with Heisenberg having a lot of scars, so I played with the idea.

Each Lord had their own rules. Which if their servants did not follow, they had to pay a heavy price.

Rules like that; you must not go to the lower levels of the factory alone. If Lord Heisenberg said something, you had to do it without question, especially for your own safety. And if you visited his private room, you always had to knock before entering.

You’ve always followed two of them. However, your attention slipped over the last one as you hurried out of the elevator to Heisenberg's room. At each step, you could feel the slow, rhythmic thumping of the factory from behind and below you as the various machines and tools worked non-stop. Every click, tap, or squeak has become as familiar to you as your very being.

Pulling closer the book you got from him a month ago, you tried to gather your thoughts about what you wanted to say. You'd have never thought a darker fantasy would appeal to you so much. It had a mystery, a bunch of different, but still interesting characters, and an oppressive background that the story slowly began to bring to light by the end of the first book. The ending was open for a promising sequel.

And you entered his room. Without knocking.

Inside, the smell of thick tobacco and oil rushed your senses.

"Heisenberg, I brought back the book! And imagine it's already-"

"WHAT IN THE LIVING HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?!" He yelled.

You froze in place in the doorway. The sudden shout shook you up completely and you gripped the book tighter in your hand so you wouldn’t drop it.

Your gaze was immediately drawn to the man, as he was standing by the bed.

Heisenberg's shirtless upper body was covered in a myriad of thin scars, like cobwebs across his entire body. Starting at his neck, they ran down his chest all the way to his waist, and probably continued under the pants. The scars on his arms were gnarly, from long healed injuries, which were most likely the results of fights. However, some of those on his chest were too straight and clean to come from an accident.

"Get. Out." He didn't look into your eyes. Objects trembled around him. A knife rose into the air from his desk. "NOW!"

You didn’t look back when the door slammed close behind you. Not when the elevator was already climbed up a few levels. And not even when you got to your own room and threw your back at the door. You felt like a hand was wrapped around your throat and it began tightening its fingers, ever so slowly.

Long minutes passed and yet you still felt as if your heart was trying to break out of your chest. The only thing you could clearly hear besides the beating of your heart, was your own panicked breathing.

"Shit..." you slid down with trembling legs. You had to wrap your hands around your body to try stop the trembling.

It was over.

You broke his rule. And now he's going to kill you, if you're lucky, he will make it quick.

Each Lord had their own rules, and now you have broken Lord Heisenberg's. Like a stupid fucking kid.

"Shit!"

You were aware of the fact that the people in the Dimitrescu castle disappears and got replaced very often, and you were really surprised how different Heisenberg was from what you imagined. He shouted a lot and swore even more, but he never tried to hurt you, even on his worst days, he just grumbled impatiently and vented his frustration on his machines.

He was loud, but understanding in his harsh way. Impatient, but still a good listener on his good days. He was rough, but you knew he cared about you, in his own grumpy way.

You were happy. You enjoyed living here.

But now...

Now you had to get out of here.

The sudden thought helped to clear your head with such force that you have managed to get on your feet. You didn't want to die. You didn't deserve death for a complete nonsense.

You had to get away.

Heisenberg waited while as the elevator started upwards.

He didn't even have to move his hand. The knife spun around its axis then it slammed into the wall with tremendous force, then again and again and again. It didn't stop until the blade bent from the force. His fingers trembled, bolts and gears threw themselves around him in all directions. The legs of his bed buckled as the springs in his mattress straightened, pierced trough the material and then snapped and shot themselves into the ceiling.

"Fuck!" He grabbed his dirty-gray hair and pulled it hard enough so the pain would clear his head a bit. He needed to calm down before he smashed everything around him. The bed creaked behind him, as two of its legs finally gave up and fell to the ground with a thud. Then there was silence again. This snapped him out from his blind anger.

He shut his eyes tightly. Letting his shoulder sunk, he took a step back and threw his back against the cold wall. He needed to take a few deep breaths to slow down his pounding heart.

When he opened his eyes the first thing that caught his eye, was a scar running through his forearm. He clearly remembered getting it in a fight against a bunch of lycans. Years ago, when he started constructing his factory the territory of the lycans stretched all the way to the area where the main building would be. At the time, they didn’t even know who they were facing and sometimes they ventured through the fence. That evening, Heisenberg did not expect them in such numbers, let alone that they will attach wooden spears on their arm to counteract his powers.

With a sharp exhale he lowered his arm.

Those creatures became what they were thanks to Cadou. Technically, they were all related. He took a deep breath, knowing it well that these thoughts didn’t help and were not important right now.

He gave himself a disgusted look before he got dressed. When he buttoned the last button on his shirt, only then he let his thoughts wander again. An unpleasant feeling settled into his chest.

You saw him. And now you will run away.

It was over.

He knew that the body he had to live in was utterly repugnant. The body which was experimented on by Mother Miranda, conducting studies and surgeries until she was satisfied with it. The body she put the parasite in and which cursed him with this fate. He hated her for making him this way, and he hated himself for being her child.

He still woke up time to time drenched in sweat from nightmares where he has been implanted with the parasite over and over again.

It spread throughout his body and turned his existence into pure hell. His thoughts burned away by the eruption of the unbearable pain, he felt as if his chest would open up and his heart would tear itself out of its place. However, the worst part of it all, was the realization that something was trying to subsume his consciousness. Claws tore into his brain and tried to suppress part of his being. It was almost successful, but Heisenberg held on.

And when he woke up after the procedure, he found himself in a whole new hell.

You were the only thing, along with the constant building, that kept him happy day by day, and helped suppress his raging hatred. On the worst days he still could felt the Cadou trying to making its way into his head. But you always were there to help him, or at least, you tried and he was grateful, even when he didn't say anything.

He knew full well that this would not last forever. Because why would it last? In this godforsaken horrible place everything fell to pieces and rotted apart eventually.

He took out a cigar from the depths of his coat.

He didn't want anything; he didn't ask to being like this. And yet you stayed with him. He had you. But now, you saw him.

The bitter smoke slowly rose from his lips.

Everything was over.

 Hours have passed. Night arrived, or just the tiredness told you that.

You thought about running away again and again trying to figure out how, and when you should do it. The first thing you thought was that you had to find a way to do it as soon as possible. The elevator was an option, but you would have risked running into Heisenberg, or, more dangerously, into his servants. He could send them after you at any time.

It was risky.

Or there was a ventilation system that weaved through the factory. You could use that, though you were afraid of getting lost inside of it forever rather than getting out. Escaping trough, the dumpster promised only similar chances.

You even started to think that maybe first, you should talk to the man. Or at least try to talk to him. Though your reasonable-self protested profusely against this emotional suggestion.

However, your pride also spoke up and somehow, it made you stay. You're not going to run. Not anymore. Not from him.

So, you waited.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you hoped you would have a chance to talk to him. You just couldn’t decide when to go to him. Every part of your body shivered as Heisenberg's angry voice echoed in your head. You had to go to talk to him, but you were simply unable to leave your room, at least for now.

Fortune was on your side for once.

Your door opened slowly. You felt your shoulders tense up and you swallowed dryly. You couldn’t look up at him.

"I thought you would have left already." His voice didn't sound as harsh, as you would have expected.

You glanced up at the man who was leaning against the doorframe. He folded his arms in front of his chest, his eyes were hidden behind his black sunglasses.

"Why should I leave?"

"Well," despite his words his voice sounded surprised "I yelled at you."

"You've yelled before."

Heisenberg snorted a little and rubbed his hair under his hat. This didn’t go as he thought it would. "Well yeah, but..." his words let him down.

"What happened to you? I mean your body…?" You got up from your bed. He was just a few steps away from you.

The man drummed with his fingers a couple of times on his arms. "I fell."

"Heisenberg..." you took a careful step towards him.

"Lord Heisenberg." He corrected you. "If my bitch mother is forcing this prestigious bullshit then we should keep to it." He sounded more annoyed than angry. He continued to drum slowly with his fingers, but you could also feel his eyes watching you from behind his glasses.

"I'm sorry that I didn't knock."

For long minutes, the only thing could be heard was the rhythmic thumping background sounds of the factory.

"Well...Yeah..." He scratched his graying hair slowly as he pushed himself away from the doorway. "Listen, if you want to go, then go. I'm not going to stop you, just don't ever comeback. All right? Have a nice life, or whatever. That giant trash is actually looking for new maidens," He turned around.

You managed to stand up and hurried after him stopping him in front of the elevator.

"What?" Heisenberg glanced down at your arms as you hugged him. "(Y/N)?"

"I'm sorry." You snuggled closer to his back, hiding your face in the fabric of his coat.

"For what?" His hands shook, he had to stop himself from touching your arms. The thought made him tremble a bit, but he realized that you were trembling too. You were so close to him, he could felt your body against his, your finger griped into his clothes.

"For not knocking. And not saying sorry. And for not trying to talk to you." His coat smelt like tobacco and oil, just like everything around him did in this place. For you, it felt like home.

When he didn't answer, you spoke again.

"I don't want to leave. I'm sorry."

There was another quiet minute. You were about to let him go when he finally found his voice.

"Are you sure? But you saw me." He carefully caressed your hand with his fingers. "You saw what that bitch did to me."

So, you were right, those wounds were too straight to be from some kind of accident.

With your eyes closed you enjoyed the gentle touches, as he run his fingers along the top of your hands, and then slowly moved up on your arms as well. He slowly relaxed between your arms and leaned closer to your body. Even his breathing became more even.

When he sighed, you let him out from your hug and stepped beside him, looking up at him "Come with me, Lord Heisenberg." You gently took his hand and pulled him after you. heading back to your room.

"Hm?"

"I need some rest, and you too. And I'm sure you've destroyed half of your room."

Heisenberg pulled down his hat into his eyes. Damn.

"Why would I have done that?" Oh, for the love of god, shut up you, idiot! He snorted to himself.

"Because you care about me, just as much I care about you. Come." You pulled him all the way to your bed. Turning towards him you took off his hat and glasses.

"Mh, what?" His tired eyes looked straight into yours.

"Your eyes are really beautiful."

"Oh shut up." Stepping next to you, he threw himself on the bed.

You never dared to ask why you got a bed which was big enough for two people. Whether someone owned this room in the past, or the man had some kind of plan for you. But right now, as he leaned back to the bed, you haven’t really found a reason to worry about that. Climbing next to him, you hid under his arm. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you sighed deeply.

"Well, I hope you're happy."

"Very much, thank you."

He snorted and listened quietly to your steady and calm breathing as he tried to ignore his own pounding heart. He fervently hoped you wouldn't notice this. This hope was unfortunately false considering that you were only a couple of centimeters away from his heart.

The redness spread through his face even more so than before.

He didn't imagine this could happen. You shouldn't have been here anymore. You should have gone to the village a long time ago and not looked back. You should have left everything...and everyone behind.

Instead, you were here. And you laid next to him so damn close. His skepticism struggled against the notion.

Like anything would just become magically fine after this.

"You know, you can't fix me with cuddling, right? I'm messed up in the head and even more fucked up in my body." He swallowed dryly.

"What are you talking about?" Raising your head, you looked straight into his eyes.

"I just told you." He let out an impatient huff. "You can't fix me, I'm this fucked up. And it won't go away after some warm cuddling and snuggling. Sorry to ruin your hopes."

"I don't want to fix you, Heisenberg."

"What?" Every answer of yours caught him off guard.

"Why would I want to fix you when I like you this way?" You leaned closer, slowly kissing him. His body tensed, you could feel his grip tighten on your shirt, then his lips gently kissed you back. The kiss tasted bitter, like his cigar. He pulled you closer and didn't let go until you yourself pulled back.

Looking into his eyes you smiled gently. "Besides, I've been here a long time, so I'm pretty sure I'm just as messed up in the head."

"Damn." His grey eyes almost sparkled. "God damn."

You let him pull you closer, snuggling up to his shoulder.

"So, we're messed up together."

"Pretty much, yeah. But somehow it doesn't bother me."

Heisenberg was sure by then that you could feel the pounding of his heart, but he didn't mind it now. He gently caressed your face with his fingertips from your forehead through the line of your nose all the way to your chin. He spent a lot of time under your eyes.

"Listen, I know she did something to you." You placed your palm carefully on his chest. "But your body isn’t scaring or disgust me." You gently caressed around his heart trough his shirt. "It's your body, it belongs to you and I like it. I mean it's yours and it's fine."

"Mh," he replied tellingly.

His heart finally started to quiet down. Good. He needed to think with his god damn head and not with his heart. Everything happened differently. For hours he believed, no, he knew, that you have already ran away. He wanted to give you time, that was one of the reasons he didn’t come after you for so long. And yet, deep within him he felt he can't just let you go. Who knew what he would have done if you would have told him to his face that you are leaving him? He felt as if his whole world started to tremble.

It was as if you could feel what he was thinking you snuggled closer and rubbed your head against his shoulder.

The man sighed softly.

But you stayed. You were here, and you were honest. Maybe he could be a bit honest too.

"Sometimes, I dream that I'm just a machine myself." He gently played with your hair. It was a long time ago when he touched something this soft. "That I'm lying on one of Mother Miranda's experimental tables, and when I look down at myself I see nothing but gears and bolts that work together inside me. It's not my body anymore, I lost my real one. Then I start to lose my mind as well. And she just watches me, every damn time. Calling me his son. " He rubbed his face into his hands.

Raising your head a little you laid it back on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"What are you-"

"Sh."

The man snorted, in confusion and embarrassment.

"Hm, all I can hear is your flesh heart beating in your chest. The rhythm is pretty fast but maybe because of the many cigars."

"Oh, shut up." He hid his face in his hands and tried to rub the crimson of his face away.

"All right, all right." You snuggled back to his shoulder. "Still, I'm not going anywhere."

"You can be a stubborn bastard sometimes."

You chuckled, clearly proudly and as you embraced him a smile remained on your face.

The room around you was filled with the sounds of the thumping factory. It felt comforting. Your heart started to quiet down as you let your consciousness relax from the rhythmic noises around you two. His hand drew gently circles on your shoulder.

"Can we stay like this for a while?" You asked, what he didn’t dare to ask.

"Sure." He pulled you even closer and buried his face into your hair. He seemed to relax even more. He raised a finger, and his sunglasses slipped off, levitated under his coat, and raising it up gently laid it on the two of you, before it landed itself on your nightstand with a small clink.

"Thank you." You muttered as you gently drifted towards sleep.

"Yeah-yeah." He kept his face hidden in your hair.

You won't leave him, at least not now. Maybe you will actually stay with him, maybe you were stubborn enough to do it. He ignored his worries about the future, instead, to his own surprise, he let himself be happy for once. He slowly fallen asleep with you on his side, listening to your breathing.

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil 8 #karl heisenberg #lord heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #heisenberg imagine #heisenberg x reader #reader #re village #copper #heisenberg x you #house heisenberg

[leossmoonn]

can i request a stefan imagine where bonnie locks you both into a room because you guys fight to hide your feelings, and when you're inside, you both finally talk it out and then when the next day the room is unlocked everyone makes fun of you because you fell asleep on each other

yes! this is such a cute idea :))

masterlist

warnings / includes - mild language, casual sex talk, underage drinking (you all are 18 tho), fighting, kissing, ugly crying (lol)

————

“i thought he was supposed to be the smart one,” you grimaced.

“boys are often enchanted by half-naked girls,” elena stated. “yeah, but not stefan,” you said, taking a big gulp of your beer.

“well, contrary to popular belief, stefan is like other boys. he got turned at 17, he didn’t have much time to mature.”

you gave elena a ‘are you serious?’ look before turning back to the man whom you were hopelessly in love with. it shattered your heart to see him dancing with another girl.

she was wearing a belly top with a skirt you knew that not even vicki donovan would approve of. she had her back facing towards stefan, running her hands through his hair as she moved up and down on him, obviously trying to get him riled up and fuck her in the bathrooms. meanwhile, his hands were on her waist, following the movements her body made. he had a big smile on his face, winking at her as he told her dirty little nothings.

the red solo cup crushed in your hand, beer running down your arm, some getting on your jeans. you didn’t even realize until elena started to wipe your skin with napkins, taking your attention off of the vampire for a few seconds.

“you had an accident,” elena snorted. “oh,” you frowned, helping her. “oops.”

“why don’t you just go and replace her? i bet stefan then would actually get hard,” elena suggested.

“please, it’s not like he’d even notice me. i mean, look at her, she’s gorgeous.” your insecurities took over your brain, and you couldn’t help but think of how many other pretty girls stefan could have.

“please, she’s below average, and she’s had herpes two times in the last four months. i know stefan is immortal and his body heals fast and all, but no guy, supernatural or not, wants to get involved with a girl like that,” elena assured you.

“then why is he letting her use him as a stripper pole?” you frowned. “maybe to make someone jealous?” elena raised her brow, looking at you and hoping you caught onto the hint.

“like who, you?” you smirked.

“he doesn’t like me anymore! and trust me, before we even got together, he was in love with someone else. he just used me as a jealous device,” elena shrugged, taking a sip of her beer.

“ouch. who did he love instead of you?” you asked, completely clueless. “oh, it doesn’t matter, but it’s okay. i was in love with damon, anyways, so really, it was fair. and he did love me, he just wasn’t in love with me, you know?” she asked.

“yeah, i guess there is a difference,” you nodded. “yep, and stefan definitely does not like that girl, so go and talk to him! you’re his best friend, and if you pull him aside to confess your feelings for him, he definitely won’t mind,” elena nudged you.

you looked back at him, your heart racing at the thought of you actually telling him you’re in love with him, and have been for the last year and a half. you shook your head, looking down at your shoes.

“no, no, it’s too risky. what if he doesn’t like me back? i can’t risk losing your friendship over some silly little crush.”

elena rolled her eyes, setting her drink down and taking ahold of your shoulders. she looked you in the eyes, causing your own eyes to widen.

“it’s not just a “silly little crush”, okay? you are in love with him, and it’s not going to get any better for you if you just stand here and push your feelings down. and look, he likes you, too. i know you don’t believe it, but he does. in fact, he’s also in love with you. just take a chance, y/n.”

“but what if he doesn’t like me and you guys have just been rallying me up for no reason?” you frowned.

“that’s not going to happen. now, go and be with your soulmate!” she pushed you towards him.

you glanced to her and gave her a glare, but complying once you faced stefan again. you walked over to him confidently, tapping his shoulder. he immediately turned to you, a bright smile lighting his face. oh, how you loved that smile.

“hey, y/n, what’s up?”

“i wanted to talk to you,” you prompted. “okay, sure,” he nodded. he abandoned the girl, letting you lead him to a quieter part of the grill.

“so, what’s this about?” he asked.

“um, well…” you weren’t sure you could just flat-out confess, so you decided it was best to have him confess first. “do you like anyone?”

stefan’s eyes widened, a flash of fear clouding his eyes. he shifted his weight, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.

“u-um, no. why would you think that?”

your heart fell at his response, but you kept up hope. he was probably just scared because he didn’t know you liked him back, right?

“well, a little birdie told me that you liked someone. and me being your best friend and all, i thought it would be fitting for me to know. you know, i can help by getting you and her together.” you flashed him an eager smile.

“well, i don’t like anyone. and if you don’t mind, i’d like to get back to -“

“you’re really leaving me to dance with that slut?” you cocked your brow.

“n-no, well, yeah, but -“

“c’mon, stefan, i won’t judge. just tell me who you like.” you slipped your hand into his, interlocking your fingers together.

stefan’s dead heart dropped in his chest, giving him that somersault affect your touch often gave him. he looked into your eyes, seeing the desperation and pain that they held. he knew that he should tell you that it’s you, but he wasn’t 100% sure you even liked him back. like you, the thought of losing you was too risky for him to take the leap. so instead, he deflected.

“you don’t have to know everything about me! i know you’re my friend, but i have my own private life outside of our friendship. just leave me alone and let me dance with her.” he pulled his hand away from yours, the loss of warmth and comfort disappearing from you both.

you looked at him incredulously, not believing the words that came out of his mouth. you open and closed your mouth multiple times, not sure how to respond. you didn’t even know how to feel, really. you just felt your heart break for the millionth time that night.

he looked at you helplessly, guilt filling his chest as he saw the struggle you had with choosing to leave, or choosing to stay and work it out. he hoped you would choose the latter.

“you’re an asshole, stefan,” you spoke.

your words cut him like a knife.

“you’re right, you do have a personal life outside of our friendship, but you have always shared everything with me. you once told me that i’m the one that you trust the most, that you can tell anything that, that i’m your bestfriend. and-and what now? i-i’m only a friend? someone who you can’t even tell who you like? you told me that you liked elena, and i helped you with that. what is so different about this girl, huh?” you argued.

“nothing! i-i just… you just don’t need to know everything, is all.”

you looked at him good and hard, trying to decide if he was telling the truth or not. was elena wrong? did he really not like you, but like someone else?

“i don’t believe that,” you shook your head, speaking to yourself more than him.

“why not? you are never this… grueling.”

“because i… i just…” you couldn’t tell him that you really thought.

“you what? you think you know who i like? please, enlighten me,” he taunted.

you gritted your teeth, your hands balling into fists. you lifted your first up, ready to hit him, but bonnie and elena came over, restraining you.

“okay, let’s calm down, yeah?” bonnie suggested, pulling you back.

you started to cry as bonnie led you to a different part of the restaurant.

“you-you guys are wrong. he doesn’t like me,” you sobbed.

bonnie sighed. “he does, we swear. he just doesn’t know you like him.”

“are you serious! what is he, blind?” you scoffed.

“guys are pretty clueless, even immortal ones.”

“yeah, that’s what elena said,” you sniffled. “well, what do i do now? we can just resume being friends.”

bonnie pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. “here, let me show you something.”

she took your hand, leading you to the storage room. you went along with her until you saw stefan there.

“what? bonnie, what are you -?”

“have fun you two,” elena winked as bonnie closed the door.

you heard the lock click. you ran up to the door, banging on it and begging for your friends to let you out.

“hey! this isn’t funny! i’m claustrophobic, you know this!”

“no can do! work it out, you two!” bonnie shouted from the outside.

“here, let me,” stefan said.

you moved away, crossing your arms as you watched him try to kick down the door. he took ahold of the handle, pulling it off. he then tried to open the door, but it didn’t budge.

“well, good job. you’re a genius, you know that?” you remarked.

he turned to you with a glare. “as if you could do anything else.”

“well, maybe if you let me find something to unlock the lock, then there would still be a door handle!” you hissed.

“don’t blame me for trying to help!”

“well, it’s the truth! you always think you can fix things. just accept the fact that you can’t.”

“woah, when did this turn personal? if i remember correctly, you once told me that my determination was admirable. why the sudden change now?” he hummed, crossing his arms and looking at you like a smart ass.

you sighed deeply, your eyes filling with tears as you answered him.

“because you hurt me. i-i’m hurt, okay?”

he softened up immediately, his arms falling to his side, his smirk disappearing. remorse shined in his eyes as he tried to reach out to you.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

you stepped back, putting your head down. “it’s fine.”

“no, it’s not. you don’t deserve it.”

you turned your back to him, your eyes settling on the boxes full of kitchen supplies. you sniffled multiple times, your shoulders shaking as you tried to keep your weeping to a minimum.

you heard stefan sigh behind you. his feet dragged along the steel floor, his hand coming up to gently rub your back.

“please, look at me, y/n,” he whispered.

you turned to him slowly, the sorry pit in his stomach growing. you looked at him, your eyes drooping, tears lining your cheeks. your lips were swollen, your nose running. you sniffled once again, trying to calm yourself down.

stefan walked away for a few moments, bringing back a towel. you looked at him, heart fluttering as he wiped the snot that surrounded the bottom of your nose. he wiped your tears away, running the cloth carefully under your eyes to capture the remaining moisture. you watched him as he kept his eyes on yours the whole time. you felt yourself falling for him again.

he set the rag on a shelf, taking your hand and slipping his into it. you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. stefan smiled with you, looking at you sweetly.

“i’m sorry. you are my best friend. you are the person i trust the most. i will continue to tell you everything and anything. i just… i was just scared to tell you who i liked,” he explained.

you nodded, understanding his explanation. “no worries. i get it. i don’t like being interrogated either.”

“you didn’t interrogate me.”

“oh, please,” you snorted. “we both know i did.”

he shrugged with a little smile. “well, i know you mean well.”

you nodded, “i do. i really do.”

“i know, y/n, i know,” he reassured you.

you looked away from him, the tension in the room weighing on your shoulders.

“you know, i think bonnie also put a spell on the door,” you stated.

“i was thinking that, too,” he sighed.

“well, what do we do now? we’ve made up,” you asked, looking back at him.

“i don’t know. are you hungry?” he asked.

“no. i am tired, though,” you said. “wanna lay down? i can be your pillow,” he suggested.

you smiled and nodded. “yeah, sure.”

he took your hand, getting on the ground. he laid flat on his back as you put your head on his chest. your heart hammered against your ribcage as he slipped his arm around you, holding you close to him. you fisted his shirt in your hand, closing your eyes and breathing in deeply.

his scent filled your nose, making your mind foggy and muscles relax. he smelled of sandalwood, leather, and jasmine. jasmine was something most guys didn’t smell like, but he did, strangely. it was a sweet, yet musky smell. it fit him very well, and you loved it.

your heart stopped as you felt him rub your back. his fingers scratched your clothed skin softly.

“so, can i ask who you like now?” you hummed.

stefan laughed. you felt the rumbling in his chest, making you smile.

“what?” you looked up at him, batting your eyes innocently.

“why do you want to know so bad? i thought i told you i was done dating for a while,” he stated.

you looked away and back at your hands that held the material of his shirt. “just wondering. and we both know that you’d love to have a girlfriend. one that isn’t in love with your brother.”

stefan laughed again, making you smile to yourself as his chest came up and down in multiple breaths.

“i mean, yes, but i don’t want to just date someone to prove that there are people that like me and not damon.”

“i know, but… what if the girl you like likes you back?” you suggested.

stefan stopped breathing for a second, his hand that was scratching your back stopping to a halt.

“you sound so sure of that,” he said.

you shrugged, looking up at him, hoping he could read the look on your face. “it’s because i am.”

he looked at you, his eyes giving away his emotions. he looked uncertain, but you knew that he understood what you were hinting at. he just couldn’t believe it.

“i love you, stefan,” you spoke, sitting up in his lap.

stefan’s face shone brightly as his lips upturned into a smile. you could physically see all the weight lifted off his shoulders. the hot tension in the room filtered out, being replaced with a cool breeze of relief. he sat up, putting his arm back around you, reaching his hand up to cup your face. he looked deeply into your eyes, his pupils running into his emerald irises. your hands went up to his neck, your fingers entangling in his hair.

“i love you, too, y/n,” he spoke, as if he had said it a million times before.

both of your reactions were minimal, but spoke a thousand words. the words felt natural, right.

you leaned in, eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes. your chest heaved up and down in anticipation, your heart ramming itself against your ribacage. stefan was the one to close the gap.

tingles shot up your spine, goosebumps lining your skin. you pressed into him - no space was between you now. you kissed him quicker now, opening your mouth and taking initiative.

he caught on in an instant. his hand that was on your cheek was now on your neck, cradling your head closer to his. he pulled you impossibly closer to him, sparks flying between you two as your chests rubbed against each other. you pulled on his hair that was at the nape of his neck as his hands reached further below your lower back.

his tongue ran across yours deliciously. you explored his mouth, tasting the bourbon and fries he had eaten earlier. you took a shallow breath as your lungs were gasping for air. you would’ve passed out if it weren’t for him.

“did you really like that girl dancing against you?” you blurted.

stefan tilted his head, chuckling. “no, i did not. and also, that’s really the first thing you’re going say after our first kiss.”

you shrugged. “a girl’s gotta ask.”

“well, then, no, i did not. i was trying to make you jealous.”

“well, good job, because it worked,” you snorted.

“yeah. i’m sorry again for making you cry. that was unfair.”

“it’s okay. i now know that you were just being a scared jerk,” you smirked.

“yep, that’s me,” he chuckled.

you hummed contently, placing your head on his shoulder. stefan resumed rubbing your back, setting back onto the floor again. it only took a few minutes for you two to doze off. you awoke again to the sound of laughter.

you opened your eyes, confused as you saw your friends standing over you.

“man, i thought you two were going to have sex, but this is worse!” damon cackled.

you grimaced, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“shut up, damon. at least i know how to treat a girl right,” stefan muttered.

everyone but damon snickered. damom crossed his arms, glaring at his younger brother.

“i do know how to treat a girl right. right, elena?” damon asked.

“mm, i’m not so sure,” elena said with a shit-eating grin.

“okay, you all suck. i’m out!” damon walked out of the storage room, leaving only you two with elena and bonnie.

“so, did you two make up?” bonnie asked.

“yep,” you nodded. “and we are going on our first date tonight,” stefan added.

your head whipped up to him in surprise. “really?”

“yeah, if that’s okay with you.”

“oh, it’s more than okay,” you grinned.

“well, just don’t fall asleep on each other during the date,” elena smirked.

you rolled your eyes. “we aren’t rabbits like you and damon!”

“okay, and like damon, i am out!” elena exclaimed, walking out of the storage room.

“they’re children,” you rolled your eyes.

“so were you two last night, but i’m glad you made up,” bonnie said.

“thanks. us, too,” you smiled at stefan.

stefan returned the expression, leaning in and kissing you softly.

“ew, okay! i, three, am out. please don’t have sex on this dirty floor,” bonnie stated before leaving.

“wanna have sex at my house?” stefan whispered.

“buy me dinner first!” you scoffed. “what about breakfast?” stefan cocked his brow.

you pursed your lips in thought. you couldn’t help but grin.

“i think that would be lovely.”

————

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#stefan salavatore x reader #stefan salvatore x reader fluff #stefan salvatore x reader angst #stefan salvatore #stefan salvatore imagine #stefan salvatore imagine fluff #stefan salvatore imagine angst #tvd #the vampire diaires #paul wesley

[needleandhammer]

From Simmer to Score

Pairing: Soft!Curtis Everett x Reader

Summary: Curtis is good with his hands. And other stuff.

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit, smut, oral sex, penetration, fingering, dub con breeding, unprotected sex, breeding kink sort of, size kink, petite!reader, Curtis' fingers

Word count: 4k

A/N: This doesn't really fit the prompt i chose from @stargazingfangirl18 's 5k Soft Dark Challenge: "You hire a local handyman to help you with a few home projects." But the prompt still inspired this. I wanted to take the prompt somewhere more explicitly dark but once again my contribution to this challenge turned marshmallow soft. This is an au, non-apocalypse au, normal life au, idk. Just self-indulgent. Also, it was a struggle finding a gif of clean Curtis. Because he's clean in this and not living on a train, i swear.

“Try again. Very good. Let’s have you run through the exercises and then we’ll take a look at the new homework."

At your smile, the little girl nods and quickly turns to concentrate on coordinating her footwork on the pedals of your old Altenberg while reading the notes in front of her.

You back away, heading to the kitchen for some iced tea. You nearly forget your other guest who sits at the table.

This is the third time he’s accompanied Wendy for her lessons. For a man of his size, Curtis makes no sound except the faint swish of pages turning in his book. Like before, he arrived with Wendy, nodded a greeting at you, waited for your invitation to the kitchen, and then spent the entire hour silently reading.

You pull the fridge door open and pour tea into three glasses. You quietly slide one towards him. Curtis’ eyes flicker up to you, brilliantly blue, and he gives you a low murmur.

“Thanks.”

You’re about to return to Wendy when you hear your name in Curtis’ smooth baritone.

He nods to the notepad left on the table. “I, uh, noticed your reminder to call for maintenance. Something wrong?”

“Oh.” You tidy up the table, sheepish at being caught procrastinating house chores. “Just needed a second look at the water heater. The repair company came by and we tested things out when they were done, but the next day I had no hot water.”

You grimace, thinking of taking another cold shower.

“If you’re okay with it, I can grab my tool bag from my car and take a look,” he says.

You’re not prepared for the offer. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

He shakes his head, no hesitance. “I don’t mind at all. As long as you don’t.”

“I mean. I-I would really appreciate the help.”

Your time with Wendy ends after you review practice goals with her until her next lesson.

Curtis joins you two. “Hot water is running again.”

Your jaw drops and you skip to the kitchen. Hot water pours out of your faucet. You return, unable to resist grinning widely at him.

“Thank you, Curtis. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Curtis taught my dad everything about fixing houses!” Wendy chirped. He offers her a crooked smile.

“Do you have everything?” you ask your young pupil.

While Wendy thanks you and you help her pack, Curtis watches on with a faint curve to his lips.

“Edgar’s changing over to late shifts for the next couple of months. I’ll probably be driving Wendy to lessons again.”

You nod. “Sounds good. See you both then.”

After they leave, you enjoy a glorious steamy shower and then you settle onto your couch with a plate of leftover grilled veggies and fish.

Reviewing your schedule, you consider taking on one or two more students. It was years ago that you gave private lessons to help pay for college. Nearly a decade of moving between a few jobs, you are now in a quiet suburb working with a team of digital designers. The job allows you to work from home half the week, a flexibility you take great appreciation in. The professional stability encouraged you to return to music and to helping others develop their musical interests.

Wendy is your only student at the moment as you want to ease into taking on this additional responsibility. You smile, recalling your initial meeting with Wendy and her father, Edgar. Her father’s bubbly energy is such a stark contrast to Curtis. Edgar opened up quickly, sharing that he and Wendy’s mother were no longer together, that he would support whatever Wendy wanted to do. There was a perpetually youthful vigor to the room when Edgar was present.

Wendy calls Curtis, Uncle, and his adoration for her is clear. He barely said two words when he was here the first time. It doesn’t bother you. You get the impression Curtis purposely tries to not draw attention to himself, and you can empathize with that preference for tranquility.

_ _ _ _

It’s a windy day, heavy with rain clouds, the next time Wendy and Curtis are over.

“I saw your screen door was down. Planning on replacing it?” Curtis asks when you wrap up with Wendy.

“Nah. I was just going to look up what I would need and try fixing it myself.”

“It’s kind of heavy.”

His tone doesn’t imply any skepticism aimed at you and you’re not offended. You’re used to people calling you ‘small,’ though you’re not small so much as you’re short. You like to think you take up ample space. You also admit strength is not something you have in abundance. Your whole life you relied on family and friends for a lot of literal heavy lifting. But Curtis already helped you out once.

“I could fix it up.”

“I won’t ask you to do that.”

“It’s no bother, really. I’m happy to help out.”

He promises to be quick about it. While he works, Wendy happily practices on your piano.

“I have Oreos,” you announce.

She pauses to grab a cookie. “Thank you so much for letting me practice longer.”

“Of course, dear.”

She chats a bit about her upcoming birthday plans, as children are wont to do.

Curtis pops his head in. “All set. Do you want to take a look?”

You follow him out back. Swinging the screen door on its hinges, you nodded appraisingly.

“I suppose it passes inspection.” You look up with a cheeky smile, pleased to see Curtis’ lips twitching. “Thank you. Really, Curtis. I do wish you’d let me pay you.”

He shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Besides, you’re great with Wendy. I’m grateful for that.”

You can tell he loves Wendy just as much as if he was her father. “In that case, I shall give Wendy her next lesson for free.”

He blinks at you, trailing behind as you make your way inside and calling out to Wendy.

Curtis has resigned himself to a quiet, bare life. He doesn't think he wants anything much. He has Edgar’s loyalty, a result of the brotherhood he formed in his impoverished teen years. They survived together, looked out for each other. Once Wendy came along like a little star burning in a smoggy midnight, Curtis counted himself lucky to witness the little girl growing up. A chance to help nourish one seed.

The first time he arrived with Wendy at your home, Curtis couldn’t help listening in on the entire lesson, making no progress in his book. Your clear voice, your generous encouragement. You, light on your feet moving so swiftly. You, barely reaching his shoulders yet mighty in spirit, curvy and sensuous. Curtis had an urge to lift you in his palms to be stored safely in his pocket.

_ _ _ _

And so things follow. Wendy diligently learning and Curtis primarily accompanying her, taking his place at your kitchen table. You come to enjoy his steady, grounding presence just a couple steps away from you and Wendy.

Now and then, he’ll notice some upkeep you’re doing – a leaky faucet, a box of new light bulbs on your counter – and volunteer his assistance. You are reluctant to put him to work, sure that he spends enough of his days working and doing chores in his own home and besides these are tasks you can handle even if you find them tedious. Curtis is always gentle in his offers, always obtains your permission first. As time goes by and you grow less shy about accepting his help and he grows more comfortable in your space, you realize working with his hands is second nature to Curtis.

It doesn't take long for Curtis to admit to himself he wants to be near you.

Curtis doesn’t meddle. He doesn’t mingle. He doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. He is aware you thrived on your own for a long time, just like him; and like he has Edgar and Wendy, you have a small close-knit group of friends. Lending a hand to you doesn’t count because you are like him.

Maybe this is why he lets his guard down under your roof. There is something kindred in your calm nature that his soul responds to. Under your roof, no silences need to be filled; no pretenses forced upon him. Your invitation to rest is unspoken – he hears it and almost weeps. The more time he spends with you, like two wavelengths in tune, the stronger his urge to insert himself. To fix, or in some way leave his mark on your home. Curtis doesn’t have any interest in widening his social circle. Lending a hand to you didn't count. Until he cannot help it. He doesn’t reach out for you, doesn’t try to prove you’ll curve perfectly within his arms; but he’ll ensure your softness can curl up in a sturdy home and delight in simple pleasures.

One evening, when Edgar works later than usual, you ask if Wendy and Curtis would join you for dinner.

“Nothing fancy. I have some noodle soup and salad. Curtis, can you call Edgar to meet us here?”

Wendy sets the table. Curtis assists with the food.

He’s quick to cup your hand in his when it's nicked with a knife. You can’t help leaning into him as he runs your finger under water, wraps it in clean paper towel. He finishes with the salad, making you sit at the table.

Edgar joins you all, tired but quickly gaining energy with food and a few sips of wine. You are full and warmed by their company. While Edgar cheers on Wendy while she practices from her book, you feel Curtis’ fingers curl over your hand. His thumb brushes over your cut. You share a smile with him.

_ _ _ _

You settle into your little Toyota only to find it won’t start. It stumps you because you never had issues with this car before. You have no experience with car maintenance and don’t know the first thing to check for an engine that won’t wake.

Calling Curtis to see if you can reschedule, he insists that he can swing by to pick you up.

He had called you, his voice almost shy. He wanted to surprise Wendy for her birthday with a piano and asked for your help.

You direct Curtis to the string instruments shop in the city’s downtown area. The two of you are greeted by a sales staff upon entry. When asked, Curtis looks to you, wordless, so you do your best to describe to the salesperson what you're looking for.

There are several options of acoustic and digital instruments. You give little demonstrations on a few pianos that you consider reasonably priced.

“Curtis, check this one out.” Your hold on his sleeve is loose and propels him towards one of the upright Baldwin pianos.

“I think any of these would suit Wendy. The sounds are clear, and they don’t take up too much space. The salesperson said this one is second-hand and it’s in really good shape.” You press a few chords, then look up at Curtis with a smile.

He looks at you, gaze gentle. “I’m not worried about price. I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

That was his general response when you asked his opinion during your time in the shop: he was up for anything you recommended. Other than that, he trailed behind you so that the salesperson assumed you were the primary purchaser. Much like in your house, Curtis seemed to try hard to not draw attention. Oddly, you didn’t think anyone in the same room with him could help noticing him. Even with the dark apparel he favored, Curtis’ reserved nature can't hide all the intensity and strength just thrumming beneath the surface of his tall imposing build.

You convince him to sit beside you on the bench. He’s never played before, but humors you and tries random combinations of thirds with you. You watch his hands – clean, wide, with thick fingers – hover and slide along the keys.

He nudges you.

“Sorry. I was just impressed your sausage fingers are quite nimble.”

A half-hearted glare. “Thank you. For coming with me.”

“If I say you’re welcome, will you take a look at my car when we get back?”

He stays for dinner.

It starts raining and you have to rush out to gather hanging linens. He helps and you both run back inside. You're giddy at his eagerness to assist, resulting in damp clothing on you both.

“Oh, let’s dump it here. I’ll fold it tomorrow.” You are happy to leave the laundry in a pile on an armchair, in too good of a mood to care.

You catch him with his attention on you, a look so soft you have to look away, walk blindly a few steps. His touch is on your arm, turning you around just as you reach the piano.

He dips his head low to press chapped lips to yours, capturing your lips more, closing in to envelope you in his heat.

Curtis’ hands grip your hips with a quick jostle against the piano, prompting a slur of bright notes ringing from the keyboard that you are pressed against. And then he’s hitching you further up and firmly in his arms. His tongue licks against yours. You slant your open mouth, inviting him to taste, to devour you from the inside out. Your legs wrap around his waist like you belong there, tethered to this point in time. There’s no past or future, only Curtis, only feeling safe and real in his arms now now now.

You barely register Curtis moving, tipping you onto the couch cushions to hover over you so close. You can’t remember burning for someone like this. You can’t remember much of anything, focused on Curtis, solid and unyielding between your thighs, muscles buzzing with raw strength.

You want so badly to know more of him. Your hands wander shamelessly under his shirt, sliding up his wide back, grazing under to squeeze appreciatively at his pecs only to be called south by a narrowing of hair that leads you on until you bump his belt buckle.

You’re distracted by the tease of hot kisses he drops along your neck. There’s something sweet, vulnerable in how you allow him access to the delicate skin there. It makes Curtis bury his nose against the crook of your jaw, a long moment for him to whisper something like a prayer, before his tongue swirls and he nibbles your ear lobe. Your high pitched gasp hastens his desire. Your shirt is gone. Your bra untangled from your arms. Your breasts, oh, Curtis takes a mouthful of one fleshy breast, sucking greedily when you moan, breathless and aching now.

You claw at his shirt until it too disappears. You wriggle to help Curtis pull your pants and underwear off. Your legs want to yank him back to you, but he braces himself to allow just a bit more space between you both than before.

“Let me.” It’s almost a growl, and you want to say yes, but you want to kiss him more. You’re clinging by his neck, drinking from his soft lips, until you both part to draw breath.

His hand caresses your cheek, sliding over to slip two fingers into your slack mouth. Your tongue swipes at them, lips close to suck them in, eager to touch and taste any part of him. Jaw tight, Curtis pulls his fingers away and down. Down. His hand spans large over your curves and you hold your breath, grit your teeth. One finger saturated with saliva, sinks into your cunt. You swear you can feel more arousal dripping from you to soak his hand and he adds another finger, drawing short whimpers from you as his fingers withdraw and plunge in. God, you won’t ever tease him about his fingers again because they’re perfect. Agonizing in their quest to undo you.

His voice is husky groans, wanting so bad to feel your oh so tight cunt around his cock. Soon.

He tortures you, adds a third finger. You’re riding them, whimpering as he pumps them in you and parts the digits to stretch you. His weight slides away and you can only grasp at his hair, you’re barely glimpsing his head between your legs before you arch high when his thick wet tongue swirls and licks your folds, dialing up the white hot blooming inside you. His fingers curl just enough inside to press that patch against your pelvis that strings you tight as a bow. Pressing insistently, scratching with finger pads, until you burst and all you can do is chase more of that pulsing pleasure, humping against his face. Your hips quiver while Curtis laps at your slit.

His sucks grow gentle, thumb teasing your bud, helping you come down from the intense high.

You sigh his name.

“I’m here.”

“I want you.”

His arms wind around you, holding you tight while he kisses you. You can’t remember feeling anything better than being cradled like this as Curtis languidly kisses you.

He’s not rushed to move from you, so you cling to him and he loves you for it. Yes, he’s hard, but he wants to savor this. Already high on the sensation of your soft flesh underneath him, your thick thighs tight at his waist, your quiet hums of pleasure the evidence of his thorough work.

He ran from his past, from early years strife with despair, washing away those memories like dust and grime. He thought his life of isolation was one that moved him forward; but he has been stuck all this time.

Seeing you care for Wendy, Curtis realized he wanted that. He wanted what his friend had. He wanted you, and the precious something conceived between two souls that sing for one another. Soon. He’ll make your sweet little body his to protect, to warm through the nights.

_ _ _ _

“Thanks so much for having us for dinner,” Edgar says. He was been watching Wendy run around your humble backyard, chasing butterflies and searching for little frogs. He turns to you with a toothy grin. “And for your help with the gift. Wendy’s going to flip. I’m lucky to have you and Curtis both around.”

Your smile is just as affectionate. “Happy to have you here. Although,” your smile turns sly, “I’m a little disappointed that your special lady friend didn’t join us.”

“Curtis,” Edgar mutters under his breath. Curtis is washing dishes at the sink and pays no mind to any half-hearted curses directed at him.

Your brow arches, urging Edgar to talk as he can't help an embarassed grin.

“Well, she was traveling for work, unfortunately. But I know Wendy doesn’t mind her.”

The girl has whispered to you that Edgar’s girlfriend is beautiful and she wished she would become her new mom; this you keep to yourself, not wishing to embarrass or pressure your friend further.

“I’m happy to hear that.”

Edgar’s eyes slide sideways, quiet for a moment before he jumps out of his seat and heads to the door leading to the backyard. “I’ll just…uh…” He exits, trailing off without finishing his sentence.

You sigh and take another bite of your cake, indulging in the moist chocolate flavor. Glancing up, you find Curtis watching you. His attention is singular, a warm simmer in those bright blue eyes, causing you to freeze except for your tongue that finishes sweeping over your upper lip. His gaze narrows, grew weighty, tracking your tongue as it retreats into your mouth. He pushes away from the counter, steps close until he is able to drop to his knee beside your chair. One strong yank has your seat turning so you face him.

The door creaks open again.

“Well, the sun’s getting low so I think we’ll head home and wind down.” Edgar announces with his daughter close at his side. He has a boyish grin on his face, pulling Wendy towards the front of your house. "Wendy, say good bye.”

“Isn’t Curtis leaving too?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll leave when he’s ready.”

“Have a good night, you two,” you say, walking with them to the front. Though Edgar is still cheerfully thanking you for the meal and insisting you stay inside and not see them off.

“You go on and just have a good time, both of you.” He sends a wink your way. You shake your head at him. “Curtis! You be a gentleman now.”

Quick as he can, he has Wendy secured in the car and they are on their way.

“Huh.” You lock the front door before turning to find Curtis. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes at Edgar’s antics. Instead, he closes in on you.

“Are you worried about me not being a gentleman?” he murmurs. His fingers hook under yours loosely.

You smirk. “I’m worried about you being too much of a gentleman.”

That smolder returns to his gaze. For a second, your body shivers, overwhelmed and you side step him, if only for a moment’s relief from the heat of his eyes.

You reach out. He takes your hand.

Once you’re down a layer, he grows even hotter seeing the mesh and lace number you have on. A tantalizing tease with the hard peaks of your nipples veiled in barely-there maroon. Just daring him to unwrap you. So he does.

His mouth leaves a wet trail seeking sensitive spots on your neck, you breasts, your thighs. Even as he moves, he still covers nearly all of your body, his heat and weight drowning you in want.

Your shudder has him grazing his beard up the inside of your thigh so that you arch and plea for his touch. God, all your uninhibited responses spur the blazing hunger in him. Curtis peels the mesh underwear down, impatient for a taste of you. His mouth waters, catching wafts of arousal and then he’s sucking and lapping your wet pussy. His rumbling groan is like a physical nudge that bows your back, and you remain rigid in the air at the sensation of his thick tongue pushing into you. Wide shoulders part your legs, shifting until your thighs rest on vast muscles.

You rock against him, keen at the hard sucks. Two fingers dip into, fucking you and rubbing with a dizzying rhythm that brings you over the edge.

With little effort, he holds up your hips and you feel a pillow slide under you to angle you higher. Then his muscled arms hook under your knees and he finally lines up and rocks forward. The tip of his cock parts your folds. Your breath hitches. His cock slides in, forcing your walls to stretch, to mold tightly to his girth.

“Curtis” – your hand was going point to the little bedside table with condoms.

Instead, you’re gripping a blanket. Gasping as he withdraws and your pussy tries to hold him in.

You mumble against his lips, incoherent. “The…inside..”

And then he feeds you his length again. And again, that delicious, addicting friction.

"Yes, inside," he agrees softly. "Like this."

With every pump, the spark catches and blazes higher. Curtis rises onto his knees, thrusts harder, watching your eyes flutter open and shut. He’s panting with the pretty picture of a needy you. He grips your thighs. As if his life depends on how tight he clutches you. Concentrating hard, his eyes drop low. Fuck. He can see your pussy clench, your puffy outer lips suckling his cock. Curtis swears your little body is refusing to give him up, and you’re wet but your cunt squeezes him so tight he has to drive harder into you to avoid slipping out.

You’re not even aware of your breathy moans, so turned on by his groans, the rough thrusts he gives you. There’s no grinding. Curtis can tell he’s rubbed against your g-spot and he keeps his snapping hips angled just right, one callused thumb circling your clit too lightly. And then your breaths stutter, your legs seize, your back arches. Curtis grits his teeth, keeping the exact same pace, draws out the storm of your pleasure. It’s so consuming, you lose your voice.

Just as you are able to breathe again, able to sense the physical realm around you, Curtis speeds up, bucking hard with low grunts, powering into you.

A high gasp – you feel him flood you. He drops to press his chest to you, still pumping his release into your clenching walls; and it’s too much, his cock merciless within your sensitive channel. He can’t help it, even as your legs start writhing with his unrelenting stimulation, even as he hears your hitched whimpers.

He finally stills. His lips find yours, tongue stroking deep.

Long moments later, his name is gentle, falling from your lips. “We didn’t use protection.”

Curtis nuzzles you, rubs his nose along the planes of your cheeks. Returns to suck your bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he whispers.

There’s a soft frown upon your brow that he kisses, and then scatters more kisses on your face.

“But, what if?”

“I want you. I want everything with you.”

You’re barely able to react as he nips hard at your collarbone and then rolls his hips. He’s half-hard inside you. You’re quickly losing yourself in Curtis, overwhelmed by the combination of his hungry mouth on your skin, unyielding clasp on your thigh. His thrusts persist, pins you in place, lights you up and scorches you. You’re right where he wants you, whining for more more more.

Now with each beat of his heart, Curtis has his mind’s eye on the prize. He’ll have you over and over. And you’ll grow a piece of him inside you. You are the way forward. You are his.

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

A/N: Hurrah, this one felt like it took forever. I blame Curtis. He didn't give himself up to me easily. Let me love you, ya broody boi! Thank you for reading!

#curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #smut #fanfic #siris5ksoftdarkchallenge

[starlessea]

Here Comes the Sun: XII. Highway To Hell (Daryl Dixon/Reader)

Series Masterlist: Here Comes the Sun

Summary: Daryl Dixon scares the hell out of you climbing out of that damn creek. It takes hauling his ass halfway across Georgia and taking a bullet for him to realise that you're not half bad. He slowly starts to come around, despite grumbling about how much he doesn't like your singing, or that you can't use a gun for shit - and don't get him started on that ugly yellow tent of yours. It takes him a while before he starts to see for himself that he's found a best friend for life, and that he doesn't actually mind the colour yellow that much, after all.

Words: 7169

Chapter Warnings: Language, Violence.

You held a hand up over your shoulder and crouched down near the door, signalling for Carol to do the same behind you. Your gun was pressed snug between your palms, and your knife hung from your belt in case you needed it. Though, from the looks of the place it seemed pretty secure - if the lock you'd just busted open was anything to go by. The two of you were scavenging and had spotted a small general store, deciding to check it out before heading back to the cabin. The group hadn't eaten anything substantial in days, save for the things Daryl had been hunting. Even then, the harsh winter months made it harder for him to pick up tracks when most animals had better shelter than you all did.

It had been a number of weeks since the farm was overrun, but it almost felt like yesterday. The temperature had dropped to freezing seemingly overnight, making your fortunes that much more cruel. Even now, your breath formed clouds of smoke before your eyes, and the cold felt like it had infiltrated your bones at some point and never left. The tips of your fingers stung as they glowed red, exposed through your fingerless gloves, and you were certain that your nose matched, too. Carol's did, that's for sure.

You gave her a quick nod before kicking in the door harshly with your boot, raising your gun as you entered. The inside was bigger than you were expecting, and it took you a few minutes to clear each aisle for walkers. As you did, you noticed how most supplies were missing from the shelves, having been taken before the place was locked up. Still, Glenn had always drilled into you the first rule of scavenging: 'there's nothing good left in this world that isn't hidden.'

Sending a nod to Carol, you put your gun away in your holster before reminding her to stay alert. The two of you split up as she made her way towards the canned goods sections, hoping to find something there. Ever since you'd been on the road, you and Carol had gotten quite a bit closer. At first, she seemed sceptical of Rick and the whole situation you were forced into, as you all did. Though, after time she seemed to realise that he was the group's best shot. Most days, the two of you made dinner with anything you could find, often supplementing the things you were missing with whatever Daryl had managed to bring home from his hunt. Other times, you went scavenging together, as you did today.

At first, Rick absolutely refused to let anyone split up, and you had to abide by his rule. One time he'd caught you mocking his 'this isn't a democracy' speech to Beth behind his back and you'd had to forfeit your portion of squirrel to the greater good that evening. Daryl sneaked you some of his afterwards, however. Though, Rick quickly began to realise that there was no other choice. Before long, you'd gotten good with a gun; taking down walkers each day had that effect. Soon, you were one of the frontrunners whenever you had a house to clear - often fighting alongside him, Glenn and Daryl.

Now, he was comfortable with you leading a few runs of your own and taking Carol along with you. Glenn and Maggie often went together, too, so that you covered more ground. It wasn't that Rick was comfortable with splitting up the group, you thought; he just didn't have a choice. Lori was nearing her due date and you were all practically living on fresh air, moving from place to place quicker than you had the chance to catch your breath.

You hadn't even had time to settle things with Daryl. You barely saw the man. He'd leave first thing in the morning to look for food, and be back late at night - when most of the group had already fallen asleep. Even then, he often took watch straight after he returned. You could tell how responsible he felt for everyone and you saw the worry in his eyes daily, if the bags under them were anything to go by.

After you had kissed Daryl, back at the farm, you only had one conversation about it. It was a couple of days after you all fled, when you were taking watch with him as the rest of the group were stuck camping under the stars. It was brief, and before that the two of you had already gone back to acting as good friends, like usual. He'd told you that he wasn't good with words, and didn't want to just give you some half-assed response in the midst of struggling to survive the Georgia winter. You agreed, and it was decided then that you'd talk about it later. Yet, later never came.

It had been an unspoken rule between the two of you that everyone's safety was the priority. Though, in truth, you hadn't had a single moment where you felt safe since you left the farm. It seemed almost cruel that immediately after you'd told the man that you wanted to live, rather than just survive, you had been thrust out into the vicious world where that's all you could struggle to do. So, the two of you just existed at the moment.

Some mornings you'd wake up to sound of him leaving, and some evenings he'd be back early enough to share a meal with you. Other than that, you lived for the brief occasions where you'd take watch together, when he'd smoke a cigarette next to you and you'd sit in content silence. Though, sometimes it felt like you were frightened to say anything at all, in case you accidentally blurted out all of your feelings at once. So, the both of you barely talked - waiting for the time when you could actually talk.

You shoved some supplies into your satchel as you scoured the aisles. There wasn't much you could see that hadn't been taken already, but you picked up a few bandaids in case you ever needed them. The only thing you were able to save from the farm was your satchel. Luckily, it already had your polaroids in it and a change of clothes, since you'd been packing to move into the Greenes' farmhouse at the time the horde arrived. Still, there was so much you missed from those days.

You missed the material things, like the comfort you got just from seeing Dale's RV parked by the main camp. You missed the flimsy deck chairs surrounding it, and the big apple trees that gave it shade, and the books you'd borrow from Hershel's library to read when you had lookout duty on top of it. You missed your white dress that smelt like the washing powder that Patricia used - even though you knew it wouldn't have survived long out in these dingy, cold places. You even missed the intangible things, and felt a deep longing of nostalgia for the sounds of the leaves rustling in the breeze or for the sweetness of the air. Those days felt so far away from you now, like the images of them were slipping out of your grasp - like grains of sand before you could catch them.

The things that remained fresh in your mind, however, were the people that you left behind. You missed Patricia and Jimmy and Andrea, and even Shane. As much as that man rubbed you the wrong way, you didn't want to see him die. You didn't want any of them to die. That night was a mess. These days, you often woke up in a cold sweat from the nightmares. Except, this time it was the faces of your family replacing the walkers that usually inhabited them. You missed the people you'd lost and you missed the place that you all thought was home. You also missed Daryl Dixon.

A loud clatter sounded from a few rows over from you, immediately making you thumb over your gun as you stilled in place.

"Carol?" You called over, unable to see her from behind the tall shelves. "Everything alright?"

She responded instantly, and you felt relief wash over you as she did.

"I'm fine. I just dropped a tin." She reassured you, her voice carrying as an echo in the empty store.

You let out a small sigh before continuing with your poor haul. It was times like these that you really felt your mind wander when it shouldn't. You knew that you should always be cautious, since you promised Rick that you'd look out for Carol. Though, quite frankly, you thought that he didn't give her enough credit. That woman was a force to be reckoned with, but not many people had realised it yet. Daryl had. The friendship the two of them shared was really admirable. He'd been the one to search for Sofia, and comfort Carol after the loss of her - and Carol was equally as good for him as he was for her. She'd been able to coax him out of his shell where even you struggled to, and you could see how he'd started to accept his new role within the group because of her.

You just wished, very selfishly, that you could be with him. You understood that he had a job to do now, and how not everyone was able to do the things he did. The group had women and children and older people and a pregnant Lori. You were all running on empty, barely hanging on as it was. Yet, those nights when he'd come back empty-handed, cursing himself under his breath when he thought you were all asleep, made you want to hold him close. You never did, knowing how much Daryl Dixon hated pity from anyone, but the longing was so strong that it made your eyes sting with tears.

Although things weren't awkward between the two of you, you didn't joke around nearly as much as you used to. The atmosphere always felt heavy, as nobody knew when the next meal would come, or how long this place would be safe before you had to move again. As the nights got bitterly cold, you huddled next to Beth for warmth, or Carol sometimes. You felt absolutely no shame in it. There were only a few tattered blankets to go around, but they barely did anything for your numb toes and stiff fingers. If you weren't all family before, then you definitely were now - given how close you'd all had to become.

Some nights, the ones which were your favourites, Daryl slept beside you. You didn't think it was intentional at first. Or, maybe it was. In the grand scheme of things, it was barely anything at all. Yet, the first time almost made you cry, as it felt like he was reminding you that he still cared for you. It wasn't like you ever embraced him, or did anything remotely intimate. You hadn't ever been anything more than the brief kiss you shared in his tent. Though, it still felt intimate to you.

He'd come in late, as usual, on a particularly cold night. You'd heard him slug off his boots and throw them aside as he stripped out of his heavy winter gear. The whole time, you'd pretended to be asleep, like you normally did. After a while, he finally laid down on the ground, clambering over the sleeping bodies of the rest of the group. You usually all huddled together in one room for warmth. You'd felt the floorboards creak and shift beneath you as he settled next to you, not that you were touching, but close enough to feel his presence and hear his breathing.

Once you were sure he'd fallen asleep, you scooted backwards slightly, so that your backs were touching. It was hardly anything, but the slight warmth you felt from him was more comfort than you'd had in weeks. You were touch starved and hungry and cold. You needed something. When you'd woken up the next morning, he was already gone. He never said anything about it, but since then you'd found yourself occasionally waking up in the middle of the night to your back pressed against his, or sometimes having a hand intertwined with your own.

As you finished down one aisle, you noticed another that had been left untouched. It was a toy section, quite small given the size of the store. Obviously, the necessities had been taken first, and you thought that whatever children had survived the apocalypse probably didn't have many things left to play with - since they were all still here. You trailed your finger over the dusty shelf, feeling the glossy plastic of the boxes and the soft fur of the stuffed animals piled there.

"Looking for something for the baby?" Carol asked, popping up behind you.

You immediately jumped, and flung a hand over your chest as you shot her a look. It had been your fault for not paying attention, but she didn't need to know that.

You shook your head. "Not intentionally." You admitted, eyes scanning over the selection. "But I suppose we could pick something up."

You chose one of the bears and shoved it into your satchel. Usually, you'd have looked for something for Carl, too, but he'd recently been acting a lot older than his years. He wanted to step up and protect everyone like his father, he confessed to you one day. You had to admit, he was a pretty good shot and certainly didn't seem like a child anymore. You didn't want to undermine his efforts by presenting him with an action figure in the midst of your current situation, telling him to take a break from killing walkers to play with it.

"Did you find anything?" You turned to look at Carol, who held up her bag that didn't seem anywhere near full.

She shrugged her shoulders at you and made a face. "Few expired cans, but nothing much." She frowned. "You?"

You shook your head softly and flipped open the flap of your satchel to show her your haul.

"Some bandaids and a Freddie Mercury bobblehead." You confessed, picking it out to show her.

You held up the small figure in front of her face, pulling back its comically large head with your thumb and letting it wobble.

"Cute, right?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Carol just gave a small chuckle in reply, folding her arms as though about to half-heartedly scold a child. You shrugged your shoulders before stuffing it back into the bag. Just because Carl didn't want to play with toys anymore didn't mean that you couldn't.

Carol glanced over at the entrance of the store, before giving the shelves a final scan. "We should get going soon." She noted, her bag clanking as she readjusted it over her shoulder. "Some walkers might have gathered outside by now."

You hummed in response, distracted by the array of multi-coloured boxes. "It's fine, I'll look after you." You said, shooting her a wink as she sighed.

The woman had become used to your teasing by now, and it was a welcomed change from how tense you all were most of the time. Even though you mostly used humor as a coping mechanism, especially when you felt nervous, it seemed to lighten the atmosphere when it got a bit too heavy.

"Though I don't think you even need me." You continued, eyeing the small pistol she had tucked into her jeans. "You're getting pretty good with a gun."

Carol snorted at that, reminding you of the time she almost shot a bullet through Rick's boot not so long ago. In her defence, Rick had been a lot more on edge that day, and you'd been quite tempted to do the same.

"Speak for yourself." She spoke, after you'd tried to convince her otherwise. "You started learning after me and your aim's already on parr with Rick's."

You remembered those first days, and how hard they were. Everyone had fallen into their roles and you'd felt almost stuck in place. You didn't know how best to contribute. It had taken the neighbourhood you were all staying in to get overrun before you had the chance to test your skills. You hadn't wanted to waste bullets before that, but you'd scarcely had a choice then.

"He's a good teacher." You smiled at Carol, giving Rick praise where it was due. "And there's no better practice than being terrified and having to learn on the job." You admitted with a strained laugh.

You continued walking down the aisle slowly, back in the direction of the entrance.

"But you're right, we should go." You agreed, gesturing to the door.

The two of you took a few steps together before you stopped abruptly as something caught your attention, right in the corner of your eye. You whipped your head around to look at one of the glossy toy boxes, reading its bold letter description.

"Oh my god." You mumbled to yourself, below your breath.

Carol looked over at you, confused. "What is it?" She asked, glancing in the direction where you were staring.

You couldn't hold back the grin that spread over your face as you grabbed the box and held it in your hand. You glanced over your shoulder, at Carol, before running your fingers back over the dusty plastic.

"No fucking way!" You yelled in disbelief. It seemed like your luck was finally changing.

Carol peered over your shoulder before letting out a chuckle at your expression.

"Now that would be perfect for the baby." She smiled, staring down at it in your hands.

You shook your head at her, looking up to meet her eyes. "I actually had someone else in mind." You admitted, still feeling the smile tug at the corners of your mouth as you said it. "It's a bit of an inside joke we have."

Carol hummed in reply, but didn't press for answers.

"But I agree." You went on, making room for the box to fit into your satchel. "It'll probably get handed down to baby Grimes at some point."

The walk back to the cabin was pretty uneventful. The two of you stayed in the cover of the forest, out of sight of the main road. You'd had to dispatch a couple of walkers on the way, but nothing that the two of you couldn't handle. At this point, you just wished for another set of clothes that weren't covered in muck and dried blood. You could hardly remember the last time you'd worn something clean - that hadn't just been dunked in a creek when you came across one.

As you walked, you must have strayed slightly off the path that you usually took, since you came across an unfamiliar, old Toyota truck that had veered off road and crashed into a tree. It was covered in dried leaves and all beat up, but you recognised the model as the same one belonging to Otis, back at the Greene farm. It was always parked outside there. It was a simple, two person pick up truck that was rusty red in colour, and it instantly made you think back on the night that you were forced into driving it.

After Rick had told you and Daryl that Randall had escaped, the whole farm went into an uproar. You stayed in the farmhouse whilst some of the group went to look for him, Daryl included. It wasn't long before you spotted the horde coming your way, and Hershel's barn had started to go up in flames in the distance. After that, you could barely remember what had happened.

You'd been with Daryl at first. He shot the walkers that got too close with his crossbow, before switching to guns. You did the same, trying to give the others an opportunity to pile into the vehicles and escape. At some point, however, you got completely cut off from the rest of the group and had been forced back to the opposite side of the farmhouse.

The chaos was indescribable. It was like you'd been drafted up for war in the span of half an hour. Soon, you had run out of bullets and only had your knife left to defend yourself. So, you ran. Not able to see any of the others anymore, you sprinted for the last vehicle left - Otis' old Toyota truck. You flung the door open and clambered inside, locking it just in time to avoid the hands that smacked up onto the glass windows. You remembered how your chest heaved as your hands fumbled around the dash frantically. You finally found the keys tucked into the sun visor above your head, and almost cried from relief.

When your hands stopped shaking long enough to put it in the ignition, you turned the key only for the engine to rumble once before falling flat. You tried it again, and it gave out a choked sputter and died.

"No, no, no." You whispered, turning the key over and over to try and start the truck. "This can't be happening."

The windows had almost been completely blacked out by the number of hands and faces pressed against them, the walkers snapping their jaws at you as you panicked inside. In the rearview mirror, you could even see some start to clamber into the truck bed, and knew that it was only a matter of time before they completely swarmed you. You slammed your hands onto the steering wheel in frustration and yelled, not caring whether you attracted more.

"I can't die now, I just kissed that stubborn asshole!" You screamed, accidentally hitting the windscreen wiper stick with your elbow. You watched as the blade caught one of the walkers' flesh and smeared it over the glass.

"Fucking great." You sighed, and turned the key again.

This time, you felt it catch slightly between your fingers, and thought that perhaps the starter motor was sticking. The truck hadn't been used since Otis' death, but it still seemed to have some life in it. You jiggled the key and turned it half way, praying to every deity you could think of. You twisted it fully, and the engine roared to life. You held your breath for a few seconds, not entirely trusting it, but as it continued to rumble you realised that it had started properly this time.

Not wanting to sit around any longer, you immediately set off, mowing down the stream of walkers in front of you all while hoping that the car wouldn't flip over. You watched your mirror as the ones clinging onto the truck bed were flung off as you picked up speed, and you almost wanted to yell out in triumph - but felt like you might be sick if you did so.

The truck was hell to drive. You couldn't figure out the stick for a while and your windscreen was covered in blood and smeared guts. You knew you had to head for the highway where the supplies for Sofia were left. You'd gone with Rick one time, when he went to wait for her there at noon. As you pulled out of Hershel's farm, you gave a final glance back in your mirror to see your home burn and become entirely inhabited by the undead - and noticed your little yellow submarine trampled to the ground as you did so.

As you neared the highway, after driving on the wrong side of the road for a while without realising it, you felt a knot start to form in your stomach. You hadn't seen the others get away - you didn't know if they were alive or dead, or even if they would have waited for you if they managed to escape. Your eyes blurred with tears as you drove, still not feeling any sense of relief despite having made it out of the farm. You just prayed that everyone was safe.

When you got closer to the meeting spot, you immediately noticed the familiar vehicles from the farm, and even Daryl's motorbike, all parked up. You stopped the truck once you couldn't go any further, being blocked by the abandoned cars. The group began to approach you quickly as you clambered out and hit the floor with shaky feet. Glenn reached you first, smiling widely when he saw that you were okay.

"Is that you?" He asked, clapping a hand over your trembling shoulders. "I've never seen anyone drive that badly before-"

You didn't let him finish, instead running over to Daryl on unsteady feet. You flung yourself into his arms, which pulled you in close and held you tight. You sobbed louder than you thought you ever had before, crying into his chest as you felt one of his hands stroke softly over your back. You didn't care what anyone thought at this moment. Nothing could describe the feeling of losing your home and thinking your family was dead. You realised how close you had been to being all alone, once again.

"Hey, c'mon look at me." He said softly, trying to pry himself out of your grip.

He lifted your chin up with his finger and you knew that you must've looked quite the state. Your eyes were completely blurred with tears, so much that you could barely make out the man in front of you, and your nose ran as you struggled to hold back your sobs.

"It's a'right." He reassured you, looking into your eyes as if realising that you needed further convincing. "Yer safe."

You looked around at the group, taking in their faces and feeling your hands tremble against Daryl's chest as they clutched the material of his shirt still. Everyone looked relieved, and offered you small smiles of comfort.

You stepped back from the man a little, giving him his space. You still couldn't stop the tears from falling. It was as if your body still hadn't caught up to your mind.

"I was so scared." You admitted quietly, voice quivering as you did so. "I thought you'd all left me."

You didn't drop your hands from his chest, letting yourself feel his heartbeat beneath your palms as a reminder that this was all real.

Daryl shook his head at you. "We'd never leave ya, Teach" He grumbled, as though he couldn't believe you'd even suggest it. "Went back to look for ya on the bike but I couldn't find ya."

Maggie stepped forward, pulling you into a hug as you finally released Daryl's shirt from your grip. She stroked your hair as she brought you into her chest, and you felt tears stream down your cheeks.

"You scared us all half to death." She told you, before gripping onto your shoulders tightly as you stood back from her.

Glenn nodded in agreement, before letting out a small chuckle. "Then we spotted Otis' truck barreling down the highway." He said, pointing over to the vehicle you'd abandoned. "Thought a walker was driving it the way you were swerving all over the place."

You tried to let out a laugh in return, but it came out all watery in between your sobs.

"The gearstick-" you choked out, hiccuping as you spoke. "Had to change gears with the wrong hand." You explained, lifting your arm to give a poor demonstration as you continued to cry.

"You-" you spluttered, letting out a wail mixed with a desperate laugh. "You stupid Americans."

It was a few days before you and Daryl crossed paths in the cabin again. It was late and you'd been trying to sleep for a few hours when the door creaked open. He'd shuffled around for a bit before you heard him take over watch duty from Glenn. At first, you'd wanted to go outside and scold him for never taking the time to rest, but after a few minutes you decided on a different plan. Prying yourself out from underneath the blanket you shared with Beth, you pulled on your boots - not bothering to do up the laces. The icy breeze hit your skin and caused it to prickle instantly, making you wish you had a spare comforter to take with you. You wouldn't be surprised if it snowed soon, given how dry and bitter the air had felt on your cheek earlier that day.

You retrieved your satchel and tip-toed around the sleeping bodies, doing your best not to step on any creaky floorboards and disturb them. You opened the cabin door slowly, and shut it behind you as you stepped out into the night. Daryl was sitting on the stone wall a few feet away, and you could tell that the smoke coming from his lips was from more than just the cold. He had a cigarette lit between his fingers, and you could make out the familiar lighter that he flicked open and closed in his other hand. You approached with purposefully loud footsteps, not wanting to startle him. He didn't turn around, waiting until you came closer.

"Mind if I join you?" You shot him a smile, pulling your arms to your chest to try and protect yourself against the chill.

He hummed in response, and you noticed how exhausted he looked in the glow of the lighter flame that flickered near his cheeks. His hands were covered in dirt, as were parts of his face, and his hair stuck to his forehead and the back of his neck despite how cold it was. Though, you were sure that you didn't look any better. Your once white vest was now a grubby brown colour and you'd pulled your long hair into a bun on top of your head about a week ago and hadn't looked back since.

Wordlessly, the man shrugged off the poncho he'd found recently, and handed it to you. He had another leather jacket on underneath, but you still felt guilty. You thanked him, pulling it over your head and instantly feeling grateful for the warmth that engulfed you. He then pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his pocket, offering it over to you where he sat. You shook your head and gave him a small smile as he shrugged and stuffed them back into his jacket.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, just watching and listening to the night. Nothing was uncomfortable between you. It's just that the two of you were almost like magnets, trying to intentionally stay away from each other. You feared that the two of you might never be able to seperate if you stuck together for good. It wasn't awkward, but there was definitely unspoken tension, like you were both waiting for something that you couldn't let happen yet.

"I miss my tent." You sighed, watching your breath appear as a small puff of air against the black night.

Daryl grumbled at that. "I sure as hell don't." He muttered, taking a final drag from his smoke before snuffing it out on the wall. "Thing was an eyesore."

You chuckled a bit at his response, not really sure what you were expecting. "You loved it, really." You teased, shooting him a wink that he dismissed.

"Whatever, Sunshine." He mumbled back, but his voice sounded a lot lighter than it had for a while.

After a few seconds, you remembered your satchel, now safely tucked away in the warmth of the poncho you wore. You fumbled around beneath it for a bit, which made Daryl give you a look, before pulling out the canvas bag and setting it onto your lap.

"I have something for you." You beamed, feeling the breeze sting your sore, chapped lips.

Daryl sighed at you, finally looking over to meet your eyes.

"Ya need to stop gettin' me shit." He drawled, with no bite behind his words.

You shook your head quickly at the accusation. "It isn't from me!" You almost yelled, before reminding yourself that there were people sleeping a few feet away, and lowering your voice.

You glanced back at the cabin and pointed to it. "This place has no chimney, so he told me to pass it onto you."

Daryl raised an eyebrow at you, which you ignored. Instead, you fished around in your satchel until you found what you were looking for. You could barely contain your excitement as you pulled out the box wrapped messily in old newspapers, and handed it to him expectantly.

He took it from you carefully, as though not entirely trusting it. Though, he still held it gently in his hand, in case he was afraid to break it. You watched intently as he flipped it over and squinted his eyes at the writing on it, confusion clear on his face. You'd scribbled on it earlier in the day, having found a sharpie tucked away in one of the drawers. You'd tried to do it secretively, but almost had a heart attack when Glenn asked you what you were doing - dropping the gift and kicking it under the couch until he promised to leave. Luckily, you hadn't found any dents on it afterwards. Yet, you now found it almost comical how carefully Daryl treated the box, considering what you had done to it only a few hours before.

Your eyes scanned over the letters with him as he read them, seeing the words written on top of the newspaper in black, bold print:

'To Young Daryl Dixon,

Merry Christmas!

From, Father Christmas.'

By the time he looked up to question you, you were already watching his eyes - waiting to see his expression. At the moment, his face was still scrunched up in confusion, which made you chuckle. The man looked at you like you'd just handed him a bomb he didn't know how to diffuse.

"Father Christmas?" He asked slowly, like the syllables were foreign on his tongue.

You cocked your head to the side, looking back down at the gift and wondering if you'd made a mistake. Your eyes widened.

"Shit." You muttered below your breath, before looking back up to meet his gaze. "It's Santa Clause to you people, isn't it?" You questioned.

Daryl looked at you in disbelief, as if wondering what the hell you were going on about. You were used to that look from him by now, and continued to ramble.

"I'm sure that's what he meant." You said, nodding. "He probably was in a rush when he wrote it." You looked away from the man, trying not to giggle as you remembered the whole incident between you and Glenn.

He continued to stare at you before shaking his head.

"Yer crazy, woman." He grumbled, picking the wrapped box back up to inspect it closer.

You felt your patience reach its limit, unable to contain your excitement anymore. You shoved his arm.

"Just open it!" You ordered, and he did.

For a man so rough around the edges, you'd never seen someone unwrap a gift so gently before. He didn't rip into the paper like you would have, but spent a few extra seconds pulling the parcel tape off and unfolding it with care. Once it was opened up on his lap, you watched his face as he finally saw the plastic box inside.

You knew it wasn't the exact same one he'd told you about, from all of those years ago, but it must've been close. It was a child's sheriff kit. It had the little hat that looked similar to Rick's, and the pointy metal badge in the shape of a star. When you'd seen it in the store, you just knew you had to get it for him. He might have forgotten telling you about it by now, but you had remembered.

"It didn't come with a gun, I'm afraid." You pointed to the plastic window of the box, explaining it to him. "But we have plenty of those."

You shot him a smile as you saw his expression. It was still confused, as he glanced between you and the box in his palms, but it was a lot more shy and uncertain now. You could almost see the thoughts working overtime in that head of his, as he processed it all, and decided to stop staring at him.

"It was either this or a Freddie Mercury bobblehead." You noted, feeling your cheeks hurt at how much you were beaming at the man. "And I wanted the bobblehead."

He sat in silence, just listening to your ramblings as he usually did. His eyes were still fixated on the gift, as if making up for all the years he'd wished for it as a child. You desperately wanted to slip your hand into his, or rest your head on his shoulder - but you refrained. You didn't want to take away from this moment; you just wanted to watch it. That, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to let him go if you did.

"You said how you never got any presents as a kid." You started carefully, trying to navigate your thoughts into words. "It made me sad." You admitted, in more of a whisper this time.

Daryl looked over at you, his expression soft. It was like he was uncertain of his own words, too.

"I know it's stupid." You confessed, voice trailing off as you lost your nerve.

"Nah it aint." He interrupted, shaking his head and trying to get you to look at him. "I love it."

You thought he was being sarcastic until your eyes met his and you saw the sincerity within them, and suddenly your breath caught in your throat. Daryl Dixon gave you a smile so warm that it almost made you forget it was winter. You didn't know he could even make these kinds of expressions, and you weren't able to entirely hide your reaction. Though, his smile went as quickly as it came. He looked away from you, as if noticing he'd let his stubborn, unapproachable wall crumble down. You snorted, wondering if he truly hadn't realised that you knew him better than that by now.

"I thought that baby Grimes could play with it eventually." You suggested, and he hummed in agreement.

"But in the meantime-" you continued, taking the box from his hands and opening it.

He watched you with curious eyes but didn't say anything, just letting you carry on like you had him wrapped around your little finger. You fumbled with the box, pulling out the star shaped badge, before handing the rest back. You turned so that you were facing opposite him, and pulled on his leather jacket so that it opened.

He grumbled at you as you did it, but made no effort to pull away or stop you. Instead, you flipped open one side of his jacket and pinned the badge on the material inside, closing it again before the cold set it.

"It belongs to Deputy Dixon, as promised." You finished with a smile, watching as he thumbed over the metal concealed in his jacket. The look on his face showed just how much he struggled to figure you out.

To your surprise, he didn't remove it straight away. He just bit his lip, as though trying to think of how to respond.

"Yer too much, Teach." He said lowly, after a few seconds.

"How so?" You asked.

He glanced back down into his lap, at the box that was still resting there. "Doin' all this." He mumbled, seeming like he was holding himself back. You stayed silent, waiting for him to go on.

"You bring back comics for Carl, an' stuff for the baby." He said, looking down as he spoke. "We're all here tryna do our best jus' to survive, an' you come in with that huge beamin' smile on yer face showin' us a bobblehead ya found."

He finally met your eyes, and you could see from his look that he just genuinely couldn't comprehend it. You seemed to completely allude Daryl Dixon, and the thought of him struggling to try to understand you better made you almost giddy.

"I know it's odd." You admitted, pulling the poncho closer to your body as the wind picked up. "But just because our priority is surviving doesn't mean that we should put off living."

You bit your lip. This was the most you had spoken to the man in weeks, and as the seconds went by you found it harder and harder to hold yourself back.

"I thought you could use a reminder of that." You said, offering him a small smile. "You work so hard to try and keep us all fed and safe, I wanted to give you something as a thank you."

The newspaper fluttered in the breeze, and Daryl barely caught hold of it as a gust picked it up. You caught a glimpse of your handwriting, where he held it between his fingers.

"Santa Clause did, I mean." You corrected.

You sat together in silence for a while, but the man didn't light any more cigarettes. You felt yourself growing tired and attempted to convince him to swap his shift with someone else, but he refused. You knew the sun would start to rise in a couple of hours, so you wanted to get some sleep before then. Begrudgingly, you shuffled out of the oversized poncho and offered it back to the man before you left, immediately being reminded of how icy the weather had gotten. He shook his head at your outstretched hand, which you had already expected.

"Nah, you keep it." He said, in a way that left you no room to argue.

You raised an eyebrow at him, feeling nostalgic at the familiar situation. This time, however, you didn't fight with him. Slipping the material back over your head, you huddled it to your chest and whispered a soft 'thanks' to him. The sky was still dark, and kept you wondering whether you would start to see sleet fall in the next couple of days. You looked back over to the dilapidated cabin, with its wooden weathered walls and its roof that looked close to caving in. It was a far cry from Hershel's idyllic farmhouse, but somehow you didn't seem to mind as much on this specific night.

You slipped off the stone wall you'd been sitting on and stood up on your tip-toes to reach the man still sat there. You brushed away the hair over his face with the palm of your hand, and gave him a brief kiss on the forehead before turning to leave.

"Merry Christmas, Daryl." You told him, and returned to the house to watch the first snowflakes fall from the window.

A/N Don't you love it when the plot points you set up 6 chapters ago come back around to be resolved. It's *delicious*. I think I would actually pay to see the Christmas scene play out. There's only so much imagination can do - I want to see Daryl's shy reaction in person, too!

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