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thescarletwriter-414 · 1 year

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Thank you for taking care of me

Summary: Reader is having a terrible period and Steve takes care of you.

Warnings-talks of periods and period pain, afab reader. I think that’s it but if I missed something let me know

I was having one of the worst periods of my life a few weeks ago so I wrote this. Hope you enjoy :)

Word count: 1300

You had been laying on your and Steve's couch unable to get up. You’d been in the same position since you got home after your boss sent you home from work, due to the stabbing period cramps you had been dealing with all day.

Your periods usually always sucked, but this was the period from absolute hell. Even your boss noticed. You had never been more thankful for having an understanding boss.

You kept doubling over in pain from the cramps, not being able to hide the pain you were in. After the third or fourth time your boss asked what was wrong and you told him. “It’s just my period, I-” He stopped you right away, “Ah, I don’t need to hear the details, just take the rest of the day.” You tried to tell him you’d be fine, but he quickly dismissed your protests and gave you the look that told you he wasn't buying your bullshit. “It’s not a request.” You sighed, but quickly thanked him and went to the back of the store to grab your stuff.

“Do you want me to call that boyfriend of yours to come and pick you up?” You smile at the mention of Steve. “No, it’s okay.” You told him as you tugged your jacket on. “The walk might do me good.”

It didn’t do shit, but you at least got some fresh air.

When you got home you called Family Video right away to tell Steve he wouldn’t have to pick you up. You usually always got off work after him on Thursdays, so he’d swing by the record store you worked at and pick you up.

The phone only rang twice before you heard Robin’s raspy voice on the other end. “This is Family Video; how can I help you?”

“Hey rob, it’s me.”

“Oh, hey y/n/n. What’s up?”

“Will you tell Steve he doesn’t have to pick me up tonight?”

“For sure. Is everything okay?” from the tone of her voice you could tell your anxiety riddled friend was worried.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just having a really bad period day.”

“Okay, I'll relay the message to your boy toy. Feel better y/n/n.”

“Thanks rob.”

You then plopped yourself face down onto the soft cushions of your and Steve’s couch. You stared at the blank tv screen unable to muster up the energy to get up and turn it on.

You must have dozed off at some point because you woke up to a very pretty man crouched down in front of you, petting your hair. Even with your half-lidded eyes you could tell he was freaking out at your state.

You also hardly ever took naps, so coming home and finding you asleep at 5;30 definitely worried him.

"Baby, what happened?" His hand fell from your head as you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Robin told me you came home early from work." he got up from his crouched position in front of you and moved to sit next to you, immediately reaching for your hand. "Are you sick or something?"

You smiled at me sleepily. "No, I'm okay baby."

"Well you're obviously not okay, baby just tell me what's going on." He says, reaching out and cupping your check with his left hand, pulling you to face him and slowly stroking the soft skin of your cheek with his thumb.

"I'm just on my period." You tried to reassure him. "I was having really bad cramps all afternoon, so Tony sent me home."

"Oh baby I'm sorry." He looked genuinely heartbroken at the fact you didn't feel good.

"It's okay Stevie I prom- " You doubled over in pain. Whoever it was that was using your uterus as a stress ball decided that was the perfect moment to interrupt you.

Steve arms reaching out immediately, his nerves jumping through the roof. He hated seeing you in pain.

“Baby?” His voice had a slight shakiness to it. You mustered your best smile, trying to reassure him.

“I’m good.”

“You are in no way ‘good’” His hands rub up and down your back until the cramp subsides a little.

You slump back into the couch, Steve moving to lay next to you. His hands traveled down to rub your tummy. You put your hands on top of his and press down. Steve got the message right away and pressed his hands onto your stomach, the pressure bringing some relief to your aching stomach. Steve had done this for you before. You get cramps with every period, so at least once a month you and your loving boyfriend lay together with his warm hands putting pressure on your lower abdomen.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” He looks so sad. He knows you’re okay, it’s just your period, you’re not dying he has to remind himself. But it hurts him so bad seeing you in pain.

“I could go for some mint chip ice cream.”

“You got it.” He shoots up from the couch and jogs over to the freezer looking for both of your favorite snack. But there was none left.

He walks back over to the couch. “We’re out, but it’s okay cause I’m gonna run to the store to grab some and maybe burgers and fries. Does that sound good for dinner?”

You smile at him, your first genuine smile of the day. He always knew exactly what to do to make you feel better. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

“Cool.” he grabs his keys and wallet off the coffee table then leans over you to give you a kiss. Your hands grab the side of his face pulling him in closer to you. “I’ll be right back okay.” he tells you, trying to pull away, but you grab at the front of his shirt and pull him back down and give him another deeper kiss. “Baby, you gotta let go if you want ice cream.” he giggles, prying his lips from yours and smiling down at you.

“But I don't want you to leave me.” you pout, still not letting go of him.

Smirking at you, he asks. “Do you wanna go with me?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to get up.”

Without missing a beat, he scooped you up into his arms. “You don’t have to.” You wrap your around his neck snuggling your head into his chest. You let out a content sigh. God, you loved this man.

He carried you outside and placed you gently into the passenger seat of the car.

You waited while he ran into the store then you got the promised burgers and extra-large fry on the drive back home.

Plopping back onto the couch with a handful of fries you watch Steve rummage through your vhs’s looking for a movie to put on. You didn’t ask him too; you didn’t say a word in fact. He just knew you and knew what you needed.

He popped it in and sat on the couch pulling you into his chest, you both facing the tv watching the opening credits play.

His left hand wrapped around your waist and his right moved to rub your tummy. You felt his shoulder nudge you and you turned to face him. His mouth hung open waiting for you to feed him some fries. A smile grew on your face as you stared at him with such adoration and love in your eyes.

He catches you staring and blushes. “What? Do I have ketchup on my face or something?”

“No.” you giggle. “I just love you so much.” he blushes even harder. “I love you too.”

You lean up kissing him gently. “Thank you for taking care of me.” you say pulling away.

“Of course.” he smiles back at you. “I mean it is one of the job requirements,” he jokes.

“Oh really. And what exactly is the job?” you ask.

“Being your soulmate.”

You smile again then wince, another cramp hitting you hard. He pulls you closer into him, kissing the top of your head. “I got you baby.”

Your heart feels so happy despite being in pain. This boy loves you so much, and you’ll never understand why he picked you, but you were so glad he did.

#stranger things #steve harrington #fanfic #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fanfiction #fluff #fanfiction #hurt comfort #comfort fic #steve stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve Harrington is a caring boyfriend

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steve0discusses · 3 years

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Yugioh S5 Ep 18: A Series of Ecological Disasters

Booting up ye old Yugioh, booting up a new aesthetic playlist to type to. (today’s playlist is webcore, which would feel like such a damn fake aesthetic, if it weren’t that every single one of these -core aesthetics are pretty damn fake and everyone knows it.)

Anyway, it’s been so long that, I’ll be honest, I thought I booted up the wrong episode:

I usually skip the anime intro, but I try to watch it once each arc, cuz the intros change, and this arc was like “screw it, here’s all the other villains, just pretend this arc isn’t happening.” They had Pegasus, they had Marik, they have Bakura (who is kind of in this shot as well, you can see him phasing in there.) And like...I guess they’re hiding the villain of this arc or something because that was it. Alexander the Great got just nixed from this villain list and that’s a shame.

Just a real weird choice, but since apparently this arc didn’t air in Japan they probably had to outsource this anime intro and whatever studio in charge of it just cobbled together stuff from every other season and then a couple of shots of capsule stuff.

Speaking of capsule stuff: get a load of how many freakin lines the animators have to deal with every time they draw Grandpa.

Bro saw this and was like “oh yeah, this is a Shonen Jump” and yeah. The hair does give those vibes. We got a good look at what Vegeta would look like if he really let himself go.

(read more under the cut)

Sorry, my playlist started playing a song where every single line of the song is “Adrien Brody” and it took me like a few minutes to realize I was listening to “Brodyquest” completely seriously.

Damn it, webcore, don’t betray me like this.

Anyway, this arc does something super surprising: Yugi actually hugs somebody and doesn’t look like he’s going to pass out standing up.

It is pretty fitting that the good Yugi hug would go to Grandpa.

And, as night falls, Joey Wheeler has gotten hungry, and there is nothing to eat but his new best friend and spirit animal, baby dragon. Unfortunately he shares life points with the dragon, and I think if you eat it that just instakills you.

And directly underneath him--since this world is like 100 feet wide and things just conveniently happen--Tea has told everyone that they needed to stop worrying about Joey. Which is a lot coming from Tea, because her worrying about Yugi/Yami getting hurt is most of what occupies her headspace in this series.

But even Tea was like, screw Joey, I guess.

Who kinda just falls directly into them upside down, and shows us what Joey’s hair looks like when it’s sticking straight up.

For reals, admire how long Joey Wheeler’s hair is. If Tea were upside down, she would have the same length of hair.

Also speaking of Vegeta, I am low key concerned that Joey has what appears to be a significant amount of male pattern balding going on for a teenager.

Apparently getting set on fire many, many times did have an effect on Joey, and this massive pompadour he wears is a combover. Poor baby.

Holy crap, if this is what card stress and getting killed multiple times did to Joey Wheeler, can you imagine what’s going on under Seto’s bangs? That’s probably why his bangs ride so low, Seto likely wears a freakin toupee.

Guys, Joey’s gonna lose his hair at 25 at this rate. Those locks just aren’t long for this world. Poor baby.

After Joey rejoins the party, he immediately eats all of their food. Not sure why they can’t just have Baby Dragon eat like...whatever Baby Dragon naturally eats...and then transform that into shared Joey Wheeler life points, but it’s not clear exactly how much of a life-connection they have with their Yugioh monsters. Not like it matters because Joey Wheeler is default starving all the time anyway.

Tristan has decided we should start laying blame, I guess because Duke Devlin isn’t here anymore to be the local kill joy. This doesn’t seem to be important at any point, and most of the characters are just ignoring Tristan because like...once you’re in the haunted game in a haunted tomb in a random part of India--it’s kind of moot to argue about who’s fault that is, youknow?

Joey reminds us that he found this quest item in a treasure chest under a secret waterfall. No one says “that was convenient that you landed there after getting chased through a ravine by man-eating birds after you got your dragon from when you got your crotch injury from getting spliced by that tree.”

Which is when Tea says “Wait! We haven’t had a plot thing happen in like 4 seconds! Wait!”

Hey what degree of “I don’t trust nature” do you have to be to assume that all the flowers are trying to eat you?

Like what level of anxiety is Tea where she not only is like “pretty sure the flowers are going to destroy us?” but also...she’s correct? Like she’s not wrong.

They set the dog flowers on fire, but unlike the Jungle Book this doesn’t solve any problems (which apparently got taken off the Disney+ kid’s menu so...yet again, I make a Disney reference in these recaps that future generations will not understand because so much of the Disney library has been banned from the vault. It’s almost like Disney should let go of that copyright they held on for like a hundred years, because what they’re holding on to is only going to get more racist with time. But nah. Gotta hold on with their greedy mickey mouse gloves.)

So instead of using fire, Tristan used his monster to electrocute the air (?) and blind the dogs. Wisely, the animators quickly jumped to this other scene so we wouldn’t have to analyze why it’s suddenly daytime or why that plan would even work.

Joey and Tristan do a lot of buddy buddy stuff this arc. Usually we see a lot of Joey and Yugi’s bottomless friendship, but we don’t get this much Tristan/Joey love. So shippers rejoice, these two seem to have several coordinated dances and songs...and I’d say that teens don’t typically do that, but I went to summer camp, there are situational places where teens will sing the entire vacation and make coordinated dances.

Weirdly, since Joey and Tristan share so much time together, this also means Tea and Yugi actually sit next to eachother for a lot of this arc, almost as if they were a couple. Mind you, they’re chaperoned closely by Grandpa, but youknow...that’s a different energy than I’m used to seeing.

That and like, they can’t have Tea dance with them because last time she did a dance, it was like a DDR fight and she elbowed some guy like it was a fisticuffs situation. Like there was some sort of dance war going on behind the scenes of Yugioh’s card war, and it came up once and I guess Tea resolved it and the dance fights haven’t come back since.

Overall, if they did a dance with Tea, they would get kneed in the face, so that’s probably why they insist on doing cancans as a duet and not a trio.

After Joey and Tristan freak out over having no food, Tea decides to just start eating in front of them.

and like...didn’t Joey eat that food yesterday? Like last night? The short term memory loss on all these fools.

Immediately after this we realize something weird in the water. That’s right, it’s a massive head.

Yugi seems to have forgotten they lit this turtle on fire and electrocuted the entire sky the night before. Not that it mattered.

There were like...nesting birds on those trees on that island. What the hell? They just killed so MANY of those man-eating dogs that are flowers.

Seriously are land turtles allowed to just...dive underwater for long periods of time? How does that ecosystem even work? It’s like...That’s wild to think about.

Inside the temple, they have to fight a genie or something.

In case you were wondering, the only reason Tea and Grandpa got iced is because they were the closest to the door. The two who were actually standing out of harms way were the closest to harm the whole time.

Bro tells me this is also what will happen to you if you are in the front or the back of the party while playing Cthulu D&D

Anyway, Pharaoh decides to disclose that his big problem of feeling guilty all the time and taking all the blame, which he did all of last season...is still a huge problem he will probably never tackle.

Straight up, don’t be fooled by my caps, everyone else has completely forgotten about Alex, who is still running around that temple up there. They haven’t even asked Grandpa “hey is this your protege? Is this your mentee you never told us about?” Nah. They already forgot.

How wild is it that Pharaoh thinks this is all his fault when he was the only one who was like “YUGI IT’S A TRAP DON’T GO IN THE- well...OK I guess we’re doing this, fine.” Is he upset he didn’t take control from Yugi and walk back to the plane? Because that’s the only way he could even be partially responsible, He was the only guy who was like “I see the end from the beginning on this y’all, and it’s the massive pyramid in India.”

Speaking of forgetting, they came across this language Pharaoh has decided to have nothing to do with.

This was actually a riddle and it was like...it was a riddle, sure, I guess.

And so Joey Wheeler does not hallucinate his dead wife from a previous incarnation and get on the back of his Baby Dragon to sail away into the sunset. Instead they’re just gonna walk.

Too bad Tea’s orb covered in wings only seems to hover a bit. Every single wing on that weird orb is absolutely useless.

And then Pharaoh’s pokemon is just a fire--which is hard to sit on--and Celtic Guardian...who would allow it, sure, but probably doesn’t fly (I think. He might fly)

And then Tristan’s Pokemon kinda seems like if you sit on it, you will get electrocuted. It can probably fly though. It’s very round. Seems like an anime thing that the more round your mascot character is, the more likely it can at least bounce a good distance.

So, next time, I’m just going to assume that we are going to do even more camping. And youknow, if you told me exactly HOW MUCH CAMPING was in this card game show with super future tech, I would not have believed you. But like...a lot of this series is set in the woods right? Like a lot a lot? I have grown to appreciate the woods.

Anyway, as always, if you just got here, this is a link to read these in chrono order:

https://steve0discusses.tumblr.com/tagged/yugioh/chrono

See you next time!

#yugioh #yu-gi-oh #recap #photo recap #S5 #Yugi muto #yami muto #grandpa muto #tea gardner #joey wheeler #tristan taylor #baby dragon #Ep18

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cherrybombusa · 3 years

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GROUP ONE - CCU THEATER. SUCCESS.

PLAYERS:

THE GOLDEN BOY - Harvey Hargrove. THE HEARTBREAK KID - Casey Russell. THE BABY - Casey Russell. THE FALLEN ANGEL - Alice Alder. THE WANNABE - Virginia Ann Virginia.. THE CLASSIC - Libby Logan.

PERKS EARNED:

SELFLESS BITCH: A drunken Virginia Virginia sacrificed herself for her friends! Aw. Maybe she does have a heart underneath all those boobs. Due to her efforts, Virginia has earned the right to remove herself! If the gang ever gets caught in a sticky situation, any lasting effects will not apply to Virginia. This can save her from broken bones, getting in trouble, or even death - but beware! This perk can only be used once.

MEMORABLE MOMENTS:

-LIBBY WAS TAKEN BY THE KILLERS. -VIRGINIA SACRIFICED HERSELF TO THE KILLERS. -CASEY INJURED A KILLER. -RORY WAS HIT OVER THE HEAD.

THE NARRATOR: It might not have been a quiet night, maybe not even uneventful, but the Gang found themselves grateful, at least, that the Candy Girl hadn’t shown her face. It was nearing midnight now, and with only Paulie Virginia checking on the kids before they fell asleep on the sand, and Lucas Bright left straggling on the beach with the Gang, they were sure to turn-in soon.

They were gathered around the bonfire, talking and laughing - almost even letting their guards down - but the screech of three white vans pulling up to the shore interrupted every little conversation taking place around the bonfire. They didn’t want to think anything of it at first… College kids in this town were wild, and they were all piling back into town this week, after all. But when a group of masked, hooded figures with baseball bats, and kitchen knives galore began making their way out of the vehicles, and onto the beach - what were they supposed to do but worry?

OFFICER PAULIE VIRGINIA: “Hey! Stop right there!”

THE NARRATOR: It was almost instinctual for the rookie to go right into barking cop voice, even with no back up - stupid, of course - but another ‘Candy Girl’ stunt was the last thing he was going to let happen on his watch. The man reaches for the taser in his belt, just like he was trained to do, but just as he gets it free, the blur of a body rushing forward - Lucas Bright - distracts him for a split enough second to fumble.

Paulie almost yells for Lucas to stop, but before he can get the words off of his tongue, the Bright kid nearly runs headfirst into one of the masked figures' fists. It’s shocking how hard he falls - makes Paulie wonder if he’s okay - but before he can wonder too much, he realizes too late that one of the hooded figures has gotten the jump on him. He’s half expecting the figure to reach for his taser - the oh shit moment of the century - but when Paulie feels a baseball bat connect with his ribcage… He almost wishes he had been tased. Might have hurt less.

CANDY GIRL: “Hello, my little freaks and geeks! Did you miss me and my little friends? Because I think tonight is about to get a little more fun.”

THE NARRATOR: ...Uh oh. Maybe I spoke too soon about the Candy Girl not showing her face.

It doesn’t take long to get the gang tied up - not with the threat of knives, and Paulie’s discarded taser at the hooded groups disposal - and the ringleader of this little group, the one bouncing around telling everyone what to do, seems absolutely giddy with her capture. What else are you supposed to expect from faceless psychos, though, right?

CANDY GIRL: ““Here’s the game tonight, losers! We’re gonna split you up and see if you can pass our little trials. Those who do? They get to go home tonight! Those who don’t…. Well, you might end up closer to Lux than you thought you were before.”

THE NARRATOR: Candy turns toward one of the other masked figures - one that seems like her Helper - flicking her chin toward the Gang. It’s a cue, and that much becomes clear when one-by-one, each of them has a hood slipped over their face, obstructing their view nearly completely.

CANDY GIRL: “But first, we’re going on a little trip!”

THE NARRATOR: It’s hard for the Gang to know just how they’ve been split up, but as they’re pushed forward toward the parking lot - the sound of Paulie’s and Lucas’s far-off groaning in their ears - they know one thing. They’re completely fucked, and there’s nothing they can do about it with their hands tied behind their backs… Especially not when they’re about to be shoved into the back of those fucking vans.

Nobody’s really sure how long they’ve been driving - they’re all too terrified to try and keep count - but by the time the van finally slows to a stop, they’re all dragged right back out onto solid ground, and into… some old building. Just where, is the question.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE BEEN TAKEN BY THE CANDY GIRL TO CCU FOR A NIGHT OF FUN. DON’T DIE!

THE NARRATOR: Maybe it’s the way they had to file between cramped rows, bumping into seats that left bruises blooming over their thighs; maybe it’s the echo of their footsteps, bouncing off of the walls like music. Either way, those who had ever stepped foot into the CCU theater - nearly all of them, considering every field trip they had been to to watch some semi-professional production of Bye Bye Birdie - know right where they are at that moment.

It’s a comforting place for some - one that induces only stress, or indifference to others - but it’s hard to imagine that it won’t be a place that brings anxiety after tonight; just as tainted as the boardwalk, or even walking along Lux’s and Harvey’s block might be. Now is no time to think about how they might feel in the future, though -- if they even make it that far. No, they’re going to have to make it through tonight first.

They’re led onto the stage like prized pigs, ready to be blue-ribboned - but once they’re situated, the hoods that cover the gang’s faces come off; they even cut the ropes off from around their wrists. It might be stupid, but the knives, and baseball bats manage to keep everyone in their place; hearts racing in anticipation of what might come next.

The theater is mostly dark, save for a couple of spotlights that shine down onto the stage, highlighting the Gang like the stars of Candy’s show. There are props scattered about - sets, hanging sheets, costumes! It almost looks more like a storage closet than the grandiose CCU theater, but as they try to get their bearings, the two figures heading the circle - Candy and her supposed assistant - jolt them back into reality with a clap of their hands.

CANDY GIRL: “Like I said, we’re gonna play a little game tonight, boys and girls! But, you’re all oh-so-familiar with games, aren’t you? Especially after our special little stunt at the boardwalk.”

THE NARRATOR: Her voice could almost be considered familiar, but nobody in the room really knows where to place the memory of it. Did she actually sound like that recording on the beach? Was she someone they knew? The gang just looks at each other from any angle that they can; making eye contact at whatever cost, as if it might help them all jog their memory to know they’re on the same page. They don’t get another chance to listen, though, as the other figure - leader two - begins speaking.

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “She’s written some riddles!”

THE NARRATOR: They pull a sheet of paper from their pocket.

CANDY GIRL: “And you’re going to solve them! Don’t worry about the doors -”

THE NARRATOR: The movement is clearly rehearsed as a number of their captors - five, if you’re counting - head toward the row of carved, flourishing doors at the back of the theater. Three of them leave, but the other two begin looping chains through the antique handles, locking them into the auditorium with absolutely no escape.

VIRGINIA ANN: The last however many minutes Virginia had been captured were maybe the worst moments of her life. They were just supposed to have a fun bonfire but of course a fun bonfire turned into watching her brother get hit with a baseball bat, be captured by a bunch of weirdos, and end up at the theatre as another "fun" game. She wanted to get up and leave, but someone would stop her, wouldn't they? "Why the hell are you doing this?" Was what Virginia first asked. She doubt she'd get any sort of answer and hey, maybe they'd sew her mouth shut for even speaking. "We didn't do anything."

ALICE ALDER: On any other given day, if she were to be having a conversation — or even just be stuck in the same room with Virginia! — hilarity would be bound to ensue (in one of the worst ways, but nonetheless…). But this? What was this? Her almost bestie… betraying her again! “Dude, what the fuck?” A futile question that would get no answer — but asked on instinct! “The 'beach bash' wasn’t enough?”

RORY COLLINS: It was happening again. She had gone white as a sheet when she saw the masked figures on the beach, and hadn't managed to regain any color yet. "Guys, I really don't think they're going to answer," she swallowed hard and tracked the psychos' every movement. Rory hesitated. "They didn't last time."

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “--God, can you people shut up for two minutes? We’re kind of, like - in the middle of something!”

THE NARRATOR: Candy’s little Helper interrupts the conversations with an annoyed tone, as if they’re the ones inconveniencing her night. It’s strange, how nonchalant it is, but Candy just huffs in annoyance as she looks at her ‘assistant.’ Shoulders dropping a little as she breaks character to reprimand her.

CANDY GIRL: “Jesus christ, can you just say your fucking lines? It’s not that hard,”

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “They’re -”

CANDY GIRL: “Seriously?”

THE NARRATOR: The masked figure hesitates.

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “Fine! You need three keys, and three, exactly!

CANDY GIRL: “Or you’ll spend the night -”

THE NARRATOR: Maybe it’s the fear of the moment that kept all of their eyes focused on the two masked figures interacting with them - tunnel vision, of sorts - but it only makes the loud squish of blade entering flesh even louder than it should have been. The group of them flinching before Candy even has a chance to start shrieking through the pain of the knife in her side.

It was almost unbelievable that it had happened at first - did it even make sense that the Candy Girl’s henchmen were turning on her? - but the blood splashing against the stage floor had to have been proof enough that it wasn’t just some fucked up group hallucination. This was an attack - one that hadn’t seemed expected by either the Candy Girl or her little helper.

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

THE NARRATOR: Fair question. And the attacker should have heard it, as loud as the second-not-so-in-charge-figure shrieked - but the knife-wielder didn’t even flinch as he dragged Candy toward back off of the stage and toward one of the many staircases that led to the balconies; blood pouring from the wound in her side all the while.

The other mask - Candy’s little helper - almost considers running for it, throws the note from her hands in anticipation of getting the fuck out of there… but she hardly gets a chance when her own attacker - the other one of the maniacs who had chained the door - comes from behind her and squeezes their hulking arms around her fame. They have their own knife; one that plunges directly into her chest, but the Gang doesn’t have much time to watch as they drag her off in the same direction.

What.

The.

Fuck.

There’s only a moment of hesitation - it had all happened so quickly - but the gang wastes no more time before fleeing to opposite sides of the theater. The sound of both of the women’s dying screams echo across through the space, shaking all of them to their core… but they all know one thing: they need to get their hands on that riddle.

If they’re locked in, then it might be their only way of getting out.

MAKE A CHOICE: ALICE, VIRGINIA, AND LIBBY ARE HIDDEN IN THE WINGS OF THE THEATER. HARVEY, RORY, AND CASEY ARE DUCKING BEHIND A ROW OF SEATS.

CASEY RUSSELL: All bad things seem to come in threes. And if it wasn't solely going to be a black eye that would be the highlight of his evening, it was going to be this. He calls it survivor's instinct in the scramble when he ambles over behind the seats, even though he's pretty sure he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. For a moment his gaze lands solely on Harvey. It's been ages since they've played on the same team. But... somewhere between life and death, they surely had to put some degree of their differences aside right? "Do we have any ideas?" He whispers, "I don't really fancy ending up being like whoever the fuck that was."

HARVEY HARGROVE: Once upon a time, in the distant remains of the far-off evening that had been only a few hours before, Harvey had assumed this wasn't going to happen. But here they were and here was... Whatever the hell this is. Joy of joys. It wasn't easy pulling his focus from Libby and Rory, where his eyes seemed to stray automatically in an attempt to find reassurance that wasn't coming. He did though, and turned to Casey. "We can't go at once. There's too many of us, we'd be noticed far too quickly."

MAKE A CHOICE: HARVEY IS RIGHT. SOMEBODY IN THE WINGS MUST RETRIEVE THE RIDDLE. IT IS THEIR ONLY HOPE OF GETTING OUT: WHO WILL IT BE?

LIBBY LOGAN: Libby can't hear either of her friends cramped into the rows of theater seats, but as her heart races in her chest - as the alcohol pulses through her veins - somehow, she knows it's up to her to retrieve the riddle on center stage. That had been the way out of the whole Carousel Cove situation, right? She doesn't even say anything to Virginia or Alice as she darts forwards, fingertips outstretched. Libby just hopes she can get back without alerting the killers upstairs.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS!

THE NARRATOR: Every step sounds too-loud, even masked by the sound of screams, but somehow they manage to make their way back onto the stage where the riddle was thrown by Candy’s little Helper. They get their hands on the blood soaked paper; the breath leaves their lungs as the sound of screaming begins to die - no pun intended - out. It’s not completely obvious what they should do next, but they make eye contact with their friends hidden in the wings; those hidden in the seats.

They’re never going to make it out of this without each other, so they better think fast.

They hear the sound of the killers beginning to stir from the steps near the balconies, and just like that a plan forms in their freaky little hive mind. Someone needs to distract the killers while everyone else gets upstairs. But who will it be?

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEBODY MUST DISTRACT THE KILLERS WHILE THEIR FRIENDS GET UPSTAIRS. SHOULD THEY THROW SOMETHING ACROSS THE ROOM [PROBLEM SOLVING], SNEAK ACROSS THE ROOM AND KNOCK SOMETHING OVER, [BRAVERY] OR SHOULD SOMEONE TRY MESSING WITH THE LIGHTBOARD? [PERCEPTION]

HARVEY HARGROVE: He turned his head, locking eyes with Libby at center stage. A slow nod of the head was the only sign he gave before he stood up and began to move as quietly as he could towards the other side of the theatre. There was always shit offstage in these places, right? Surely there would be something over there that could get the focus off of Libby (if it didn't, he'd rain hellfire down, that he promised himself). Each step brought him closer and closer to the vague shape of a light and when he was beside it, he turned back, grinned at his friends as best he could, picked up the light, and threw it.

MAKE A CHOICE: FAILURE!

THE NARRATOR: It was a long shot, but as soon as the stage light crashes against the floor, only one of the killers turns their head to investigate. The other? Well, their gaze lands directly on little Libby Lou.

It’s hardly a split second before they cross the theater toward her, and as hard as Libby tries to fight, it’s no use - the threat of the knife, and the feeling of it’s handle knocking against the side of their face is enough to give the killer the upper hand… At least they have time to throw the riddle in the general direction of their friends before they’re dragged away toward the balconies staircase.

It’s enough of a distraction to get everyone else safe, if even for a moment. They have to get the hell out of there, and save Libby... if there’s even time. They all book it as fast as they can, and somehow they manage to make it into the dressing rooms beneath the stage - one of them even manages to grab the riddle, silently hoping it wasn’t Libby's last gift to them all.

At least it might actually save them.

Their hearts are pounding loud enough in their chests that they might swear they could all count each other’s heartbeats. Now is no time to check up on each other, though - not as they lay the first riddle out in front of them.

If you want the key, you’ll have to find Me,

I’m a keeper of the law, you see.

I might be a pawn - I saw Pepper get diced,

Are you feeling naughty? Then here’s some advice:

I’ll name a story, no I’ll name three -

All from the Bard,

So be careful with thee.

A tragedy I’m not,

In love? I could be.

Pick only one…

Pray it’s the right movie.

MAKE A CHOICE: ALICE HAS BEEN GRABBED. DO YOU TRY TO SAVE THEM?

CASEY WAS SUCCESSFUL IN SAVING ALICE. HE INJURES THE KILLER, AND THE GANG RUNS TO HIDE IN THE AISLES.

MAKE A CHOICE: RORY IS RETRIEVING THE FIRST KEY.

RORY COLLINS: "I'll go," Rory balls her trembling hands into fists at her side. They have to save Libby, so she's going to do whatever it takes. She creeps towards the band pit as quietly as she can, and lowers herself in to look for the key.

THE NARRATOR: Rory runs with all of her might, the gang all sneaking close behind to watch her back, but with the correct location, it’s not hard to find the key taped against the wall of the orchestra pit, along with the next part of the riddle. With the sheet of paper, they make it back to their friends, and lay out the clue to get to the next key.

If you want to get out, don’t Twist and Shout,

It’s not the Candy Man locking you out.

If you feel Clueless, then here’s your clue -

You can find Me behind door number two.

How to know you’re close? Just think of the times,

The 90’s are ending, but oh, how it thrives!

Once you’re through, don’t look any further -

Your key can be found in the one with no murder.

CASEY RUSSELL: "Okay... I think I've got this." Was that more for the group's sake or his own? It's with a deep breath after they work it out that he readies himself for the run to the prop closet before taking off. He may be drunk beyond belief, but he's determined to reach their key as he runs.

THE NARRATOR: Casey and the gang sprint hard toward the prop closet, somehow managing to duck past the killers to get a good look in the massive room. It takes a minute or two, but soon Casey has the key and another little sheet of paper.

It should be easy to get back to his friends now that are waiting in the wings, but before he can even turn around, he feels hands grasping around his limbs and yanking him back toward the staircase. He has to fight, but he can't do it alone.

MAKE A CHOICE: DOES SOMEBODY WANT TO SAVE THEIR FRIEND, OR LET THEM DROP THE KEY?

RORY COLLINS: She doesn't even think when she sees the masked figure grabbing Casey. She just moves. Rory sprints forwards and hits the attacker as hard as she can.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS!

THE NARRATOR: It’s a great effort, and though Rory doesn't manage to do much real damage - and gets hit over the head hard enough to draw blood - she's still successful in getting her friend the hell away from that monster. The whole group is terrified, but they’re quick on their feet as they move somewhere else that could be deemed even semi safe within the madness to solve the next riddle.

Here’s your third key - you’re almost there!

Unless you can’t take a bit of a scare.

Your key can be found with the killers that hunt you

Hand someone over, and we’ll hand over ours too.

There’s no getting out of it, there’s no bargaining here,

You must sacrifice someone, someone so dear.

Will they die, will they live? Only we know.

But if you don’t choose, then all of you go.

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEONE MUST SACRIFICE THEMSELVES AND ALERT THE KILLERS TO GET THEM TO DROP THE THIRD KEY. CHOOSE WHO.

VIRGINIA ANN: If you had told that Virginia that five hours ago she'd be running onto the stage to present herself to a bunch of murderous assholes, she'd probably laugh in your face. Maybe if she lived this would be a funny story to tell her kids one day. Not even bothering to deal with telling the group of her decision due to the five vodka mixed drinks in her body, she ran up the stage and yelled, "Hey bitches, I'm here!"

THE NARRATOR: It’s hard not to feel the weight of the gang’s fear like a punch in the gut, radiating through the room. They can hear Virginia's drunken voice call out - the sound of her scream, and her struggle as they’re dragged her up the stairs, just like the others had been.

When the sound of chains dropping from the door handles echoes through the room, though - followed by the scurry of sprinting out of the theater - they almost think to breathe a sigh of relief. Could that really be it? Could it be over?

They don’t move for nearly an hour - or maybe it just feels like an hour - but when they finally decide the coast is clear, the group of them - or what’s left of them - sprint out of the theater, and the hell out of CCU as quickly as they can. Maybe it’s a betrayal to not even look for their friends… or maybe their bodies. But how are they supposed to stomach the thought of it? How are they expected to stick around with those… killers still on the loose?

Are their friends still alive? Who knows. They just know they need to get the police down here to help their friends as soon as they can, even if it means getting the hell out of there.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED YOUR PLOT EVENT.

#bio rp #town rp #oc rp #skeleton rp #small town rp #secrets rp #gossip rp #gossip girl rp #90s rp #classic rp #college rp #secret rp #lsrp #small rp #small group rp #event 002 - ccu theater.#plot event 002 - the bonfire.

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diabloindigo · 3 years

Text

Are you the person to open a box of cereal just to get the toy inside? As a kid yes. Right now, I don’t buy cereals with prizes anymore. Do they even stuff toys in cereal these days?

Do you get scared easy? If it’s in the anxiety induced variety, yes.

What was one of the stupidest things you cried over when you were little? Not sure, it could have been anything from not wanting to wear a fancy dress or dress shoes to a party or a broken toy.

Have you ever drank milk from the carton? Despite having a working dishwasher and plenty of glasses, I “waterfall” milk and juice from the containers.

Juice or milk? I go both ways, leaning more towards juice. Apple or orange.

Do you ever turn off your computer properly? Once in a while.

Do you wish you were a fish? Not really, though I kinda envy the blue Dory (Doctor Fish?) in the tank at my gynecologist’s waiting room. It likes to swim to the bottom of the tank and ride up to the top on a bubble jet. That damn fish has probably had more fun than I have in the past several months.

Who’s your favorite super hero? Invincible (Amazon Prime). Along with Spider-Man (2002) and the Big Hero 6 movie, that character/series is a rare superhero show that makes me feel strong and vulnerable at the same time.

Who’s your favorite super villain? Slade Wilson/ Deathstroke as seen in “Teen Titans: The Judas Contract” animated movie and the 2003-2006 “Teen Titans” cartoon series.

Spiderman or X-men? Spider-Man. Tobey Maguire and Peter B. Parker from Into the Spiderverse.

Movie theatre or stay at home movie night? Theaters. Alamo Drafthouse. I love ordering boozy milkshakes and finger foods.

Do you have a Blue Ray? I have one of those external drives for my Mac though I never use it.

How about HD television? Yeah

Do you think HD television is kind of a waste of money? No.

Do you get why people get so frickin’ freaked out during football season? I do not, and living in a state with a hard-on for (American) football makes it weird when I tell people that I do not have a favorite football team/player.

Do you ever sneak scraps to the dog even though you’re not suppose to? I don’t sneak him food. If I cook or order too much to eat, then I scrape a couple of cup’s worth of leftovers in his bowl. He’s probably got only a year to live so let him live it up a little.

Are you reading a book right now? If so what? A friend gave me a copy of “The Only Good Indians” but I can't get into it so I’m reading “Full Throttle” by Joe Hill.

What was the last book you were required to read for school? It’s been so long I can’t remember.

O donuts or jelly filled? Whipped cream filled. I love Krispy Kreme’s whipped cream filled donuts with raspberry filled donuts as a close second.

If I’m feeling bland then I do like crullers.

Do you like your ice-cream in a bowl or cone? Bowl unless it’s a tasty cone.

Marshmallows in your hot chocolate or no? I could go either way unless it’s a tiny cup of chocolate.

Do you like cherry coke? Hell yes. I love going to Sonic for a cherry-vanilla-lime Coke or this greasy little 1950s type burger joint for their cherry cokes since they load the cups with several cherries.

Do you really think diet Dr. Pepper is the equivalent of a cupcake? No, it tastes artificial. Like a bastard child of a soft drink that wants to pass for cherry soda.

Do you snore in your sleep? Drool? Talk? Snore and talk (I’m pretty stressed out).

Have you ever sleep walked? no

Are you a morning person? I am now.

How do you wake up in the mornings? by alarm during the work week, naturally at 6-7 on vacation days.

Do you think guyliner is hot? What is that?

Is variety the spice of life? yeah

Do you think strawberry milk is disgusting? I like it.

Have you ever drank after anyone? Like sharing a cup/bottle? Yeah, loads of times.

Have you ever drank after anyone you don’t know very well? No.

Do you have any limits on who you drink/eat after?

If we’re talking about sharing, then I will share food/drink with family and friends. If someone offers me bite-size pieces that are individually wrapped or can be torn off the main portion, I’ll eat it, but only from co-workers or acquaintances.

Would you eat a sucker if someone already ate some of it? No.

Would you chew somebody else's gum? Hell no.

Do you know anyone who’s going to die of mono because of that? No.

Do you enjoy school? My English and psychology classes.

Are you a teacher’s pet? no

Do you have a job? Yes.

How did you get to and from school? Parents drove me or I walked for elementary through high school. I drove when I went to college.

Do you have a bedtime? And if so what is it? I’m in bed between 11-12 a.m.

What time do you get up? 6 am so I can walk/exercise before the sun boils the earth in full force.

Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? Yeah in college.

What’s more important? Beauty or brains? brains

Do you believe in yourself? Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don’t.

Did you ever want to be an astronaut when you were little? No. Being a veterinarian or scientist were my highest ambitions as a small kid.

How about the president? Never.

What did you want to be when you were little? Veterinarian, scientist, cartoon character.

Did you ever want to be a super model? no

Do you believe you’re attractive enough to be a super model? No.

Have you ever had an X-ray? Several in the past few months for pre-surgery and dental work.

What’s your favorite guy’s name? What’s your favorite girl’s name? Guys’: Shane, Mark, Tadashi, Austin, Cade, Trip.

Girls’: Quince, Sienna, Amy, Kit, Lizzie (Elizabeth), Raven.

Who’s your second cousin’s, grandparent’s, sister? The fuck...

Do you laugh to yourself whenever the ketchup bottle farts? No, in fact, I get annoyed when other people hear it and ask me if I farted.

Do you have any real guns in your house? I have several.

Do you know how to use nunchucks? No, I bought a pair at one of those Asian imports emporiums, but I donated them since I never learned to use them. They were these crappy foam padded ones with dragons printed on the handles.

Do you know anyone who can use nunchucks? No.

What do you want to be next Halloween? In better health and not shitting bricks about using up my paid time off to go to doctors’ appointments.

Did you ever consider getting a job as a mall Santa? No. I’d rather be one of his elves or a reindeer.

Are you the one responsible for taking out the garbage? Yes. Grosses me the fuck out sometimes with smelly discarded poultry trays or rotten food, but somebody’s gotta do it.

Do you recycle? My city has the blue recycling bins, but I heard that since we’re an ass-backward community, “recyclables” and trash all go to the same place. I just place recyclables in the blue bin to help clear up space in the trash bin. Maybe I’m wrong and this city does recycle? Can’t hurt.

When I was 11, I’d collect empty soda cans to take to the recycling guy since back in the day, they’d pay for aluminum cans. That’s how I scraped up funds for dollar movies and hot dogs.

Are you a pyro? Yeah. I carry/collect Zippo lighters but mostly because the “click-click” is satisfying to hear since I flip the lids open and closed to relieve stress. And I burn a lot of old bills and letters with sensitive info on them.

What was the last word/thing you wrote down? I was researching high fiber foods that are also low in carbs to make a grocery and dinner meal plan.

Sleeping or eating? After my surgery, sleeping.

Are you overall a positive person? I try to be realistically positive, if such a thing exists. The world will never be all sunshine and My Little Ponies, but I try to find some comfort and positivity when my world is a shit-show. Filling this survey out kinda helps.

Do you hate hypocrites? Yeah, especially the “do as I say, not as I do” types.

For instance, a certain family member is pushing good diet and health habits, but it aggravates the hell out of me if I see him drinking high sugar iced tea or eating ice cream. Or Door-Dashing Burger King, even if it is a Beyond Whopper with a diet Coke.

Do you like to prank people? Yes, but I do benign pranks like leaving dirty riddles and meme drawings on their front doors.

What was the worst prank you’ve ever done on anyone? I tried fucking with a telesolicitor but I could not stop laughing.

Have you ever jumped on a trampoline in the ice? I don’t own a trampoline.

Have you ever ice skated? No. I tried once after a local minor league hockey game. I got the skates on, but my ankles were bending/bowing out so I changed my mind.

Ever water skiid? No.

Is vacuum spelled funny? Yes.

Democrat or republican? I don’t associate formally with either party, but I hitch my pony a little to the left.

Who’s the biggest asshole you know? My former boss circa 2013. Very unprofessional and a veritable loudmouth and a poor (shit) showman wannabe.

Pen or pencil? Gel-ink pens.

Should all paper have holes? nope

Speaking of holes. Swiss cheese, what’s the point of that? Fewer calories? Spinning slices in my hand like a TV cowboy spinning his revolver in the trigger guard with his finger?

Have you ever been in a helicopter before? No.

Own any airbrushed tshirts? Nope, not even in the nineties.

Have you ever been suspended? No.

Have you ever been in a fist fight? A few playground fights as a kid.

Ever said something to someone that you didn’t mean to say? Yes.

Do you forgive too easily? I don’t think so.

What are you listening to right now? The AC running.

Have you ever seen any of MCR’s music videos? Nope.

Are you tan? No.

Have you ever been in a tanning bed? No. I have no desire to look like a Cheeto or woo skin cancer.

Have you ever played water volley? Once at my uncle’s neighborhood swimming pool.

Ever had a sunburn? Yes, from neglecting sunscreen re-applications or underestimating the sun.

How about wind burn? It hurts….. Nah, I don't live in a cold enough climate for that.

What was the first word you learned how to say? I think it was “mama.”

#random monkey shit #survey #ask #bored #Q and A #long post

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easnuppa · 5 years

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Secret feelings

Chapter 6

Seven weeks had gone since they arrived at the colony called Haven, and they had not gotten any closer at coming up with an escape plan. They had silently, and thanks to Rosita and Abeˋs effort, settled down at the colony. She could easily see how more relaxed Daryl had become lately, hard labor and hanging out with the guys now and that made his shoulders less tense and it didn't drive him up the wall to be cooped up in the hotel room with her all the time. Their life together had become somewhat of a routine also, in the morning they slept together, then Daryl went to work, while she ate breakfast at Rositas before she helped Rosita out with her son. Laundry, cleaning and what not, in the afternoon they ate dinner together, in silence, before they either played cards that Abe had provided for them, or she read her book for the umpth time and he helped out maintaining the hotel. Then when it was time for bed they slept together again before they both exhaustedly passed out.

Savannah knew she had no reason to complain, this was what she had dreamed of with Daryl. It was almost like they really were together, except that she knew they weren't, and she knew Daryl had no feelings for her other then the friendship they had formed back with the other group. It felt a bit weird now, they were hardly speaking together, Daryl never looked her in the eyes and she hated forcing him to be trapped with her like this. She stood in the bathroom and stared into her own reflection in the mirror. She pulled the wet washcloth over her face and neck, as she was about to run it over her shoulder and down her arm, she stopped and looked closer. Two dark red spots could be seen on her neck and shoulder and she remembered how Daryl had sucked hard down on her skin as he came this morning. She felt the same familiar flutter in her stomach as she thought about him, god she just could not get enough of the man. She continued to wash herself off and then dried her damp skin with a towel, she then glanced back into the mirror, she had really put on some weight lately, her breasts were fuller, her cheeks where rounder, well at least she was eating more healthy now. She retracted her gaze away before she pulled on her clothes, as she straightened up she was hit by a dizzy spell and had to grab the sink to steady herself. This was the third day she had felt weird, dizzy, exhausted and the nausea that came and went. She shut her eyes and breathed slowly to ride off the wave of nausea. If only they could manage to escape this place, find their own people, then things could go back to how it was at the prison. Maybe then Daryl could find happiness with his true love, Beth. Oh god, she thought, Beth..... How in hell was she gonna be able to look the girl in the eyes after sleeping with Daryl for nearly seven weeks now? It was a nightmare, then another thought popped in her head that made tears well up in her eyes, maybe he was fantasizing about Beth while sleeping with her, maybe that was why he always seemed so ready. Oh god, she felt her heart shatter in her chest, never had she ever felt something like this, something that could only be described as a bottomless sorrow. She stumbled out to the mainroom and crawled into the bed, where she buried herself under the covers and wiped her eyes.

Savannah swatted the annoying hand away that was shaking her and making her mind spin and her stomach to turn, she grunted.

"Savannah, you have to wake up, are you not feeling well, hon?" she recognized Rositas voice. She tried to open her eyes and focus but then she felt the nausea roll over her again. She leaned over the bed and luckily Rosita was fast enough to see what she needed and shoved a trashcan in front of her. She dry heaved into the can before she shakingly laid back on the bed, a cold washcloth was placed on her forehead and she looked up at Rosita and gave her a weak smile. Rosita sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Hon what's the matter?" Savannah pushed her palms over her eyes to stop the tears flow.

"I think I might have food poisoning or stomach flu or something," she said and then shakingly told Rosita about the swine flu epidemic that had happened in the prison a couple of weeks before the governors attack, and how it had killed off a lot of their group before they could get their hands on some antibiotics, Rosita pursed her lips.

"Do you have a sore throat or any flu like symptoms?" Savannah shook her head.

“Has Daryl been puking his guts out these past days?" she shook her head again. Rosita patted her shoulder.

"Then we can at least rule out stomach flu, swine flu and food poisoning, because you and Daryl eat the exact same food," Savannah sighed.

"Then what the hell is wrong with me?" Rosita gave her a warm smile.

"Ok, take a deep breath," Rosita told Savannah, " you told me that you and Daryl are sleeping with each other on a regular basis right, the guards are doing the same with you guys, like they did with me and Abe right?" Savannah blushed slightly and nodded.

"Ok, thought so, how long is it since you had your period?" Savannah bit down on her lip and shrugged.

"I don't know, it has been pretty irregular after the outbreak and all that you know, lack of food, the stress and all that," Rosita nodded and understood what she meant.

"But you have been eating more healthy now, and your daily routines makes everything a little less stressful for you," Savannah frowned up at Rosita, why was her friend talking in such riddles?

"What are you getting at?" she asked a little annoyed and Rosita giggled.

"I think maybe it is time to have a check up with Dr Pete, I think maybe you are pregnant," Savannah blinked and stared at Rosita, she could not be serious, her thoughts from this morning came crashing down in her head, Beth, Daryl. Oh god, what if she was, what would Daryl say, it would ruin his chances with Beth if they ever found their group again. Tears started welling up in her eyes again and she could not hold back the sob.

"Oh god no, it can't be true, I can't be pregnant," Rosita frowned.

"What's the matter honey, I thought it would make you happy? You and Daryl are having a baby, isn’t that what you hoped and dreamed about, you told me only last week, you love him," Savanna angrily wiped the tears away.

"Yeah exactly, I love him, and of course I would love to have his baby, if this whole shit charade was real," she whispered angrily and jumped out of bed and started pacing on the floor. Rositaˋs frown grew deeper.

"What do you mean?" Savannah turned towards her and threw her arms out in frustration.

"Me and Daryl aren't married, we aren't even a couple, we have been buddies in a weird way, best friends at one time back at the prison, then hunting partners at the most, we escaped the prison together so he was stuck with me until we found the rest of the group. There is another chick in our group that Daryl was crazy about, a blonde petite angel called Beth, everyone adored her, she had a heart of gold, gawd, you should have seen him each night, how he would stare longingly at her, or when she was walking Judith, Rickˋs daughter, out in the yard, his eyes was literally glued on her. She too had a thing for him, she always blushed when he was mentioned," Rosita held her hand up to stop Savannahˋs ranting.

"Beth, the one you told me about earlier? The same Beth that was only 18? She might be an angel honey, but Savannah, come on, how old is Daryl? 34-35?" Savannah sighed.

"He is 33," Rosita nodded and got up from the bed.

"Exactly and what can a little innocent, naive 18 year old offer a 33 year old man? A man like Daryl? Iˋve seen how he looks at you, how he watches out for you, honey you have nothing to worry about, he is totally into his hunting buddy, believe me!" Savannah scoffed, what did Rosita know? She did not know Daryl like she did, she had never met Beth.

"Now come on Savannah, there is no point in waiting any longer, I'll take you to dr. Pete and then Iˋll go and get Daryl so you two can sit down and talk," Savannah pulled on her boots and scoffed again.

"Yeah right, Daryl hasn’t said more then two words to me the last seven weeks, itˋs like he went all caveman on me after we started sleeping together. Only a nod, a frown, a scoff or a grunt, that's all I’ve gotten. He will not be thrilled by the news, believe me, he will freak out, you do not know him like I do," Rosita hooked her arm with hers and pulled her out of the room and down a floor until they were standing outside of dr. Peteˋs office door, waiting for the man to open.

Daryl hammered the last nail into the roof he had been working on the last weeks when he was called down by Abe, when his feet was on solid ground he turned to see why he was called down and with Abe stood Agatha and Gregory. Fucking hell what did those dipshits want with him now? Then the anxiety claws gripped around his stomach and his blood almost froze to ice in his veins. Something had happened to Savannah. He looked around to see if he could spot Rosita, he knew how close Abeˋs wife and Savannah had gotten. He forced his feet to walk over to them.

"What?" he asked and looked at Abe, but the man who he had started to consider a friend, just shrugged, he then directed his stare at the council members. Agatha was the one who spoke up first, with a huge smile she reached out a hand to him.

"It seems like congratulations are in order, Mr. Dixon. Pete just officially confirmed the happy news," she said and Daryl just stared at the woman. Had she just hit her head or something? He heard Abe sigh and cut in.

"Thank you both, Agatha and Gregory, Iˋll take it from here, I’m sure you both have more important things to see to, I will help him with the move," Agatha smiled and patted Abeˋs arm.

"Thank you Mr. Ford, we appreciate everything you do for this community. Show Mr. Dixon to cabin five, will you?" Abe nodded and watched the two walk away before he turned to Daryl. Daryl frowned and looked at Abe quizzically.

"The hell was that woman talkin’ about?" Abe placed an arm around Darylˋs shoulders and steered him in the direction of his and Rositaˋs cabin, he pushed Daryl down in one of the chairs out on the porch before he went inside and got his secret stash of whiskey before he joined Daryl. Daryl continued to stare at Abe as a bottle of whiskey was shoved into his hand and coaxed to take a swig.

"Has Savannah said anythin’ about bein’ sick? Have ya seen her being sick?" Daryl felt all color drain from his face but swiftly shook his head.

"Is she sick? Why would those asshats congratulate me if sheˋs sick?" he hated being this confused, Abe just shook his head.

"Nah sheˋs probably fine, well nothing serious at least, just the regular stuff like morning sickness, dizzyspells, you know the delio that follows when a chick get pregnant," Daryl felt like the breath had been kicked out of his lungs and he had to grip the arms on the chair to steady himself. Savannah was knocked up, how the hell had that happened? He shook his head, he knew how, christ he wasn't an ignorant teen afterall, but how and why the hell had this happened now? They were gonna escape this place. He grabbed blindly at the whiskey bottle and tilted his head back as he took a large swig. He felt the liquor burn down his throat, this was a disaster, she didn’t wanna be burdened with his offspring, the Dixon blood and the Dixon curse did not need to be passed on to yet another generation.

"Looks like the sky just fell and crashed in your head there, buddy" Daryl got up from the chair and started pacing back and forth on Abeˋs porch.

"Cause it ain’t fucking good news, now sheˋs fucking stuck with mah sorry ass! She ain't wanna be stuck with a Dixon kid!" Abe sighed and grabbed the bottle of whiskey that hung loosely in Darylˋs hand as he walked by him and took a long swig.

"Well looks like the damage is already done here bud, and you better get your shit together before you go and meet her. One thing I know is how fragile pregnant women are," Daryl suddenly slid down onto the floor like his feet had been kicked out from under him.

"I’ve been a total shit to her for weeks," Abe nodded and handed over the whiskey.

"I know bud, Rosita told me," Daryl glared up at Abe through his bangs, his friend just shrugged.

"You know how chicks talk,"Abe inhaled, "well you can always change that, the woman is crazy about you and I bet my nuts that sheˋs happy that sheˋs gonna have your kid," Daryl scoffed and glanced over to the forest that surrounded their home. Abe got out of his chair and helped Daryl up on his feet.

"Well, we better get you guys installed in cabin number five. It’s going to be dark soon. And Iˋm not gonna miss out on dinner with my girl and kid."

Savannah and Rosita stood in the middle of the room in her and Darylˋs new home, here it was a small kitchen, two bedrooms and a small living room. It was sparsely furnished, but plenty for them to live comfortably. This was all so overwhelming, she had tested positive on the pregnancy test given by the dr, then a guard was summoned to take the news to the council. Although Rosita had offered to go over to the building site to inform Daryl, but was brushed off by immediately, that was not how it was done at the Haven, it was the council's duty to congratulate the father. She had had a sinking feeling in her stomach ever since, she knew Daryl was upset with her and she dreaded when the time came to be alone with him. Rosita had gotten the heads up from the council to show her to her new home. Daryl and Abe had already picked up their few belongings from their room at the hotel and moved it back to the cabin, now they were sitting outside on the porch drinking coffee. The sun had set about an hour ago, and Rosita turned towards Savannah.

"Are you going to be ok on your own now?" she asked and Savannah forced back the tears and hugged her new friend tightly.

"Thank you for supporting me today," she whispered and Rosita gave her a warm smile and squeezed her hand.

"Of course, honey, that is what friends are for," she said before she walked out to her husband and her son. Savannah sunk down on the couch and a tear slipped. As soon as she heard Daryl walk in the front door she hurried to wipe it away before she rushed over to the kitchen.

"You’re probably hungry, Iˋll start on dinner, the council sent over some supplies earlier," Daryl grunted his usual response. She poured some pasta in a pot and put it over the oven, and then she poured some tomato sauce in another pan. She stirred it a bit harshly and drops of tomato sauce splashed on her shirt, she wiped it away with her finger which she stuck in her mouth to suck clean. It did not take long until the food was prepared and she filled two plates and placed them at the table and slid down to her chair, suddenly feeling exhausted again. She hid a yawn with the back of her hand as she picked at her food, Daryl shoved his mouth full as usual, nothing could kill his appetite, it was adorable. She sighed, was better to get this over with, they needed to talk. She knew, well at least she needed to.

"Iˋm sorry Daryl, I didn’t mean for you to find out like that, I swear I didn't know until this morning either, I just thought it was food poisoning or a stomach flu or something," his fork froze mid way up to his mouth, he continued to stare at his food.

"S’ alright," he said and continued eating, she sniffled slightly, he was clearly not happy with any of this.

"Yeah I guess youˋre right, it will be alright, we just have to make the best of it, afterall we fixed the Judith situation just fine back at the prison," she said and a scoff could be heard from Daryl as he finished off his plate. She inhaled sharply, his response hurt her all of a sudden and she cursed the damn hormones inside of her. She stared through blurred eyes onto her plate, she placed the fork down and pushed her plate over at Daryl. This caught Daryl's attention and he looked up at her with quizzical eyes.

"I’m not hungry," she explained, the lump in her throat to big to get any food past it.

"Ya gotta eat Savannah, gotta think about," he paused, "ya know, the kid an all," she just shook her head and got up from her chair.

"Just leave the plates, I'll get them done in the morning, I'm gonna go lay down," she said before he could stop her and briskly walked into the bedroom, sunk down on the bed and buried her face into the pillow so that Daryl would not hear her crying.

Daryl sat on the chair in the dr’s office, his eyes were glued to the floor, he could not look at the sleazy drˋs hands poking and prodding at Savannahˋs now very visible stomach. This was about the eighth check up, Daryl knew it was only a matter of weeks until their kid was born. Where had the time gone? He had really screwed shit up with Savannah, their relationship had not gotten any less strained since the day he found out she was knocked up. Now he wasn’t even sleeping in the bedroom, he did not eat any meals with her at all. He usually stayed out working until past dark, then to just return home, scoop up any cold leftovers and pass out on the couch. He knew that his behaviour was taking a toll on Savannah, it was visible in her dull eyes, silvery eyes that used to sparkle when they were out hunting. It was like he killed her inner light. The reason for his behaviour was guilt, plain and simple. He felt guilty for ruining Savannahˋs life, for tainting her with this thing that grew inside of her, the thing had his blood. He could hardly look at her belly any longer, it was a reminder of his yet again failure.

Every night he woke up panting, a loud yell trapped in his throat, drenched in sweat. Each night he had the same dream, or nightmare was a better word for it. The thing clawing and biting its way out of Savannahˋs stomach, Savannahˋs lifeless body laying on the bed in a pool of crimson red blood. He could hear his dadˋs taunting voice, that the thing was the spawn of satan, that's what the Dixon blood did to you. Savannah had tried to ask him what was up, but he just ran from the questions, how could he explain that the thing inside of her would most likely be the death of her and that it would be his fault? He had tried to talk to Abe about it, in a drunken state, but the ginger haired man had just burst out laughing and told him it was just the first baby anxiety. Everything was going to be fine, he just needed to wait and see. Giggles and laughter interrupted his thoughts and he from better judgement looked over to where Savannah was laying flat on the back on the bed, her shirt pulled up and her stomach. He could clearly see how her stomach was moving, and the bile started rising in his throat. Daryl got out of the chair and swiftly walked out of the door.

Out in the hall he leaned against the wall, gasping for air. His heart was racing, his pulse beating like drums in his ears, sweat dripped into his eyes. He rubbed the heels of his palms in his eyes, if only this was just a part of a very bad dream. One of those dreams that started all hot and heavy and turned into some kind of a twisted sick nightmare, if he could just wake himself up, he would be back at the prison and everything would be back to normal. And he would keep himself as far as possible and his tainted blood away from Savannah. He forced his legs to start working and he more or less stormed out of the hotel and over to the building site. Abe looked at him as he started to climb one of the ladders.

"How did the check up go? " he called out to him, Daryl froze midstep.

"Fine," he growled and continued up to the roof of the second cabin they had started on, he knew he should not be too hard on Abe, he was dealing with his own shit. Their second baby, a little girl had been still born, and because of complications during birth Abe had convinced the council to give his wife some time to heal before they were forced to try for a third baby. Daryl knew that Abe and Rosita were running out of time, life at the Haven was fucked up. How was he supposed to deal, why could not things be as simple as it had been in the prison? They survived, they were happy, or at least content. Now everything was twisted and scary. He was scared shitless, the only good thing about the whole fucked up situation was that the guards left them alone, it gave Savannah her much needed space from him. How she had endured screwing him twice a day for over a month was beyond him, his stomach turned again, and the guilt filled him yet again. He had enjoyed it, he could not lie to himself, he had actually looked forward to each time he could bury himself deep inside of her, touch her and taste her. He cursed himself, he had turned into his sick horndog of a brother, Merle, getting a hard on with just a glimpse of her pale skin. Another proof that he was just as sick as his olˋman and brother. He needed to be ready for when the thing was born, ready to kill it before it could kill the only good in his life, the only other person he actually cared about, Savannah.

"How are you holding up, honey?" Rosita walked into the cabin, Savannah had just finished cleaning up after yet another breakfast she had eaten by herself. She was propped up on the couch with the pillow that Daryl had used the last eight and a half months, his blanket draped around herself. Her lower back was hurting something fierce and her stomach cramped up, but she had felt somewhat of the same type of pain the last three months, so she just reckoned it was normal. She rubbed her stomach as it cramped up again and got rock hard, she had felt her child move around something awful all night, kicking her bladder and spine every five minutes. She just gave Rosita a smile.

"I’m doing just fine," Rosita sat down next to her on the couch and placed her hand on Savannahˋs stomach, it had become a ritual of theirs ever since Rosita had lost her little girl, her friend had taken comfort in Savannahˋs pregnancy. Rosita had given her full attention all through the almost nine months, something Savannah was indescribably grateful for, since Daryl could not seem to stand being in the same room as her.

"Are you sure, sweety?" Rosita asked with sorrow filled eyes, both Rosita and Abe knew of the struggles between herself and Daryl, Rosita had also forced Abe to have a little talk with Daryl, but as usual, the man was as closed off as ever.

"It’s stupid, really. I should be the happiest woman in the world, I’m expecting a baby with the one I love," Rosita sighed and brushed a strand of blonde hair behind Savannahˋs ear.

"No sweety, its not stupid, he is the one acting stupid, one thing is nerves for everything going good, from what you told me happened to Judithˋs mother and what happened to my daughter, but Daryl takes this to a whole other lever, avoiding you, running out of a check up, that is not only nerves," Savannah nodded, what had she expected really? That Daryl would come to terms with her pregnancy and suddenly declare his undying love for her? She scoffed, that shit only happened in fairytales, and this was definitely not one of those cute disney movies. Savannah struggled to push herself off the couch. Damn this was getting difficult, she had gotten so big, Rosita had not been this big on her last month, but the dr had told her that the babyˋs growth was just as expected. Rosita jumped to her feet and supported her side.

"Do you want anything to drink? I made carrot juice this morning," Rosita nodded.

"I can get it sweety, just sit back down," but Savannah shook her head.

"Nah, Iˋll get it, I need to stretch my back. My legs and lower back keeps cramping up, it's starting to get so annoying," and Rosita giggled and nodded knowingly.

"I know sweety, the last months are no walk in the park," Savannah joined in on the giggle.

"I wish the guys could feel how it was," Rosita giggled while Savannah filled two glasses.

"Think of all the cursing and complaining if our guys went through the same thing, can you imagine Daryl and Abe being in labor?" Rosita bursted out into a full laughter and it was so good to see her friend finally smiling so genuinely, but then a soaring pain went down her spine and her stomach cramped up worse then she had ever felt and she could feel something hot and wet pulling down her thighs. She dropped their drinks and the glass shattered around her feet and she had to grab the counter to steady herself, she whimpered from the searing pain. She then turned to Rosita who was carefully stepping over the broken glass on the floor to rub her back.

"I think I just pissed myself," Savannah mumbled, feeling her face heat up in embarrassment, Rosita kept rubbing her back and it felt so nice she could have moaned.

"No sweety, I think your water just broke, I guess the baby is coming," Savannah gasped, her eyes wide in terror.

"No it canˋt be, Iˋm not ready!" Rosita shook her head apologetically.,

"Iˋm sorry to say sweety, the baby doesn’t care if you are ready or not, he or she will come when they are good and ready, and he or she seems to be ready now. Tell you what, I will help you into bed, then I will go fetch Pete, then I will run over to the building site and let Daryl know. Iˋm gonna kick his ass over here whether or not he wants to, he needs to be here when his kid is born," Savannah just nodded and let Rosita lead her into the bedroom and up into the bed. Rosita propped her back up with huge fluffy pillows and helped her out of her sweatpants and panties, Savannah was blushing through it all, she was not used to letting others see her naked, it felt awkward and weird.

The pain had gotten worse as the dr rushed into the room, Rosita was right behind him. Savannahˋs eyes went expectantly to the door, waiting for Daryl to come through it behind Rosita, but as she waited she saw nothing, no Daryl. She looked a bit panicky at Rosita.

"Did you tell Daryl?" she asked, her voice high pitched and at the end it broke from another wave of pain. The dr placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back against the pillows.

"Lay back mrs. Dixon, I need to see how far along you are, how long have you felt the pain?" he asked, Savannah breathed heavily through her gritted teeth, annoyed over the fact that Rosita had yet not had answered her question,

“It started last night," she panted, both the dr and Rosita stared at her a bit stunned.

"The contractions started last night? Did you tell Daryl?" another contraction rolled through her body and she literally howled out her pain.

"Pfft" she said finally, when she was able to breathe again, "he ran like he had the devil up his ass at the last check up, do you really think I’m dumb enough to tell him I was in pain? Besides, I thought it was one of those regular things I’ve felt through the last trimester. I had no clue it was contractions! Now where the hell is Daryl?! Did you tell him or not?" she turned her furious eyes at Rosita, who crawled up on what should have been Darylˋs side of the bed.

"Yes, sweety, both he and Abe are on their way, I told them to wash up first, don’t need any filth around the baby," she said and Savannah nodded and was once again pushed back at the pillows. After the dr had given her a quick but thorough check up, he smiled at her.

"This certainly will not take long at all, you are almost fully dilated, if I did not know any better I would think you had done this before," Savannah scoffed, then she felt the urge to get out of bed, the cramps in her back was killing her, she pushed the dr aside and scooted her legs over the edge of the bed.

"Rosita, go get me one of Daryl's shirts, I'm not gonna stand here bare assed for the whole world to see," Rosita hurried out of the room, the woman knew very well where they had their clothes after months helping out with laundry and cleaning. She came flying through the door with one of Daryl's shirts in hand, she helped Savannah get into it. She could not button it up because her stomach was too big, but at least it covered her ass, and she could lean on the windowsill without flashing Rositaˋs husband if he were tempted to peek inside the room.

Another contraction ripped through her body and she cried out loudly, gripping so hard on the windowsill so her arms were shaking. Rosita and the dr placed themselves on each side of her and held her up. When it felt like her legs where giving out underneath her, heavy running footsteps could be heard out in the hall, and Savannah turned her head just in time to see Daryl burst through the door, his eyes looked wild and haunted, his hand was tightly wrapped around a hammer, so tight his knuckles were white, she pushed her hair behind her ear.

"What you doing with that hammer Daryl? Are you planning on beating your kid out of me?" she said and glared at him. His eyes went down to the hammer in his hand, then he looked up and met her eyes again, before he could answer Abe was there, pulling him out of the room.

"Thatˋs right Dixon, do what you do best when I need you the most, fucking asshole!" she yelled after him.

Abe pushed him hard into the wall, and had his shirt balled up in each fist on his chest.

"What the hellˋs wrong with you, bud? Stormin’ in on your woman in labor with your kid with a goddamn hammer, get a grip on yourself!" Daryl just blinked up at Abe, the man was taller then himself.

"Gotta be ready for when that thing comes," Abe slammed him into the wall again.

"What are you talking about, thing? For fucksakes, it is your kid, not a fucking thing," Abe took a breather and let go of Darylˋs shirt and forced the hammer out of Daryls death grip. Another scream went through the silence of the cabin, followed by a string of loud curses directed at Daryl. He slid down against the wall and pulled his knees up, Abe let out a short laugh.

"You better polish that nutsack of yours to get back in to her good graces, bud," Daryl looked up at Abe, he shook his head.

"I screwed up, she ain’t never gonna forgive me," he mumbled and he felt Abe sliding down next to him, nudging one of his knees,

"From what I’ve seen of Savannah, sheˋs a good woman, reasonable even, if you lay the shit out for her, I’m sure she will forgive your stupid ass," The door to the bedroom flew open and Rosita ran out of the room, hurrying over to their bathroom, both of them looked after her with worried eyes, she was running back after only a couple of minutes later with a bucket of water and a load of towels. Daryl looked frantically at Abe and Abe took the hint to call after Rosita before she disappeared into the bedroom again.

"Gorgeous, are everythin’ alright?" Rosita turned and glared at them.

"Yeah, peachy," she said and blew Abe a kiss. Daryl leaned his head back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut as another wail reached out to them. He couldn't believe what an idiot he was, then suddenly a weak cry reached them, it was not Savannahˋs voice. Daryl snapped towards the bedroom door and he was up at his feet in an instant. His legs moved on their own and he found himself standing in front of the closed bedroom door, but he couldn't get himself to open the door, Abe was at his side and placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Sounds like your kidˋs got a healthy pair of lungs, congrats, bud," he felt Abe squeezed his shoulder. He didn’t know what to say or think. His kid was born, and it was alive, the kid was alive, but what about Savannah? He strained his ears, but could only hear the kid crying, the panic was back, was she dead? Had she died like Lori? He felt his legs buckle beneath him and felt Abeˋs arms around his shoulders steadying him, he heard Abeˋs voice, saying something to him, but he could not make out the words in the haze. Then the door opened and the dr walked out. He stopped in front of Daryl and reached out his hand

"Congratulation Mr. Dixon, itˋs a boy, healthy and strong," Daryl just stared at the outreached hand, but did not attempt to reach out his own hand, he was in shock, he had a healthy boy, but Savannah was gone. Had the dr ended her or was it Rosita, or did they leave that for him to do? How could he, he knew what he had said in the past, but this was Savannah, the only person that had been there for him through thick and thin. She was by his side when he had to put Merle out of his misery, she had silently given him her never ending strength. Then Rosita was in front of him, giving him a trying smile, he had no clue where the dr had gone, but he was lost in his own head. "Do you want to come in and meet your son, Daryl?" he heard Rosita ask, and Abe gave him a little nudge forward, but he placed his hands at the doorframe and shook his head.

"I canˋt, I canˋt do it," he stuttered frantically, he could not go in there and see Savannahˋs dead body laying in a pool of fresh blood, watching her turn into a walker. He didn’t have the strength to end her, if she went then he would join her, he would let her corpse sink its teeth into his flesh. He did not deserve to still be here when she was gone, where was that fucking hammer when he needed it? Somebody needed to bash his head in.

"Get your stubborn ass in here, Daryl, and meet your son, I swear to god if you don’t..." the threat was left unsaid, but he heard her voice clear as day, walkers didn’t talk. She was alive. He almost ran over Rositaˋs small frame on his way into the bedroom. He hurried over by her side and sunk down on his knees as he grabbed her warm hand and pressed it against his cheek, burying his head into her side, mumbling over and over "yer alive, yer alive," he heard her snort a short laugh.

"Course I am, youˋre not the only stubborn ass, Dixon, I thought you knew me better," she pulled her hand out of his grip and brushed his hair out of his face. He looked up at her, her face was red and she looked exhausted, her forehead and neck sweaty, her long hair a mess sticking to her forehead. She was wearing his shirt, although it was open, she was still covered by bundle laying in her arm, close to her chest. He felt Rosita lay a hand on his arm, he glanced up at her, but his eyes went straight back to Savannah.

"Take a seat and Iˋll hand him over to you," he met Savannahˋs now sparkling eyes, the light was back in them and he felt the fear that had filled his inside evaporate. She gave him a nod and he slid onto the floor against the wall, and watched as Rosita lifted the little bundle out of Savannahˋs arms and moved over to him. She squatted down next to him, she carefully placed the featherlight bundle in his waiting arms and pushed the blanket aside so the little face appeared. His blue eyes were glued to the little thing in his arms, he remembered the feeling holding Judith for the first time, but this was different, this was more of an earthmoving feeling. His heart was filled with an unrecognizable feeling, it warmed his insides. The little bundle opened his eyes and stared up at him, his eyes were the same shade of blue as his own, he let his thumb run along the soft skin on his cheek, and pushed the blanket further back, brown hair as soft as silk could be spotted on his son's head. He was definitely his son, not that he had ever doubted the fact. The little bundle started squirming in his hold, his little mouth started to search for food, when he could not find what he was searching for and did not smell his mother he let out a frustrated snort, and Daryl could not hold back the happy laughter that bubbled up his throat. Oh yeah, he was definitely a little Dixon. Rosita was there in an instant, lifting up the little bundle.

"Looks like the little fella needs his mommy," he watched as the little woman expertly placed his son against Savannahˋs breast. He crawled closer to the bed, mesmerized by the sight of Savannah feeding their son, he had never seen anything so peaceful, something more beautiful. He did not register Abe and Rosita taking their leave, but Savannah as always was on top of things and waved to them, before she choked back a yawn with the back of her hand. He saw her nudge her head against the empty space next to her on the bed.

"You can come join us up here Daryl, you donˋt have to sit on the floor, just take those dirty boots off, I doubt I’ll have time to change the sheets on the bed the next few days," he did not have to be told twice and he kicked his boots off as he crawled up onto the bed. They sat in silence watching the little boy, it did not take long until the little boy was sound asleep. Daryl cleared his throat that suddenly felt thick, and he noticed something wet on his cheeks, he dragged his hands over his face before he looked over at Savannah.

"I’ve been a real asshat, haven't I?" he didn't exactly need to ask, he knew the answer to the question, Savannah hummed agreeingly.

"I could have used your support throughout these months, it has been pretty lonely, especially since I didn’t know why you were acting like that," Daryl felt his ears heat up and he started chewing on this thumb.

"I was shit scared to be honest," he then admitted, "every night I had nightmares of the kid dying and turning inside of ya, killing ya, I just..." he let his breath out slowly, "I was just so scared that what happened to Lori, would happen to ya too," he felt how Savannah slid down and leaned her head against his shoulder, another yawn and she sighed.

"I’m fine Daryl, as you can see for yourself, all I need now is my friend back," she said before her eyes closed and she fell asleep. He watched her sleep for a while before he carefully pushed her head back against the pillow, he brushed a stray blonde hair from her forehead and leaned down and kissed her now cool forehead. He carefully lifted the bundle of his son out of Savannahˋs arms and scooted off the bed and took the two steps over to the crib that was placed in their bedroom, he carefully placed down the little boy. He stood still and just stared at the sleeping form of his son, then he sighed.

"I haven't really been there and helped yer mama through these months, so the least I can do is give ya a name, and don't worry, ain't gonna give ya a hick name that the other kids gonna tease ya about, itˋs bad enough that yer last name will be Dixon. Lucky for ya, ya got yer moma's blood running through yer veins too, prolly what’s gonna save ya, cause yer moma, she’s somethin’ special. Yer one lucky lil guy, ya know that? So I was thinkin maybe Dean is a good name for ya, Dean Dixon, that has a good ring to it, dontˋcha think?" he kept his voice to a low murmur not to wake the now two most important people in his life, his mission in life now was to protect these two with his life, even if Savannah only saw him as a friend and hunting partner.To him she was his queen, and he would spend the rest of his days on this earth to serve her.

@of-storms-and-sadness

@jodiereedus22

#twd fanfiction #daryl fanfiction #slow burn #au #angst #the walking dead imagine #hurt/comfort #daryl x oc #daryl dixon/female oc #daryl dixon

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honeylikewords · 6 years

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hey can i request a peter maximoff x f!reader? where its during apocalypse and kinda follows their realtionship through it, from when he saves her from the x mansion. obviously im not expecting a long ass thing lol just small snippets or something! thank you!!!

hey anon? this is so darn cute, thank you SO much! (you phrased this so politely and i 100% adore and appreciate polite anons who are aware that i’m a busy gal :’) you’re a sweetie! also, thank you for specifying the pronouns and gender, that always helps!)

plus, i’ve been itching to write more peter stuff as of late to branch out a bit, so let’s try a few of these out! it’s been a hot minute since Apocalypse came out, though, so please be lenient if i forget some of the finer details of the plot!

(btw i know you said you weren’t expecting anything long but i got carried away! also, i know this deviates a little from what you probably had in mind, but i wanted to tie it in with my larger peter narrative!)

I think Peter would probably not have a girlfriend before or during the events of Apocalypse-- at least not in a conventional sense. He was pretty defeated and reclusive after Days of Future Past (aka “That One Time He Broke A Murderer Out Of Jail On A Dare And Said Murderer Nearly Assassinated The President And Destroyed The White House And Oh Also? That Murderer Is His Dad”) and kept to himself. A self-described ‘loser’, Peter just didn’t want to bother with people any more: he felt like he’d let everyone down.

That’s why I always imagined that if Peter was going to be in a relationship with someone, he’d have to know them as a close friend who has been in his life for a while. I think he’s prone to flighty crushes based on the way someone looks (he doesn’t ‘fall’ for them, but rather flirts with them until he gets bored), but he finds that, deep inside, what he really needs is someone to keep him in line, call him out on his bad behavior, and remind him of what really counts, and what really makes him a hero: protecting other people and doing his best for them.

So, I argue that Peter’s best friend would be the one who loves him and who he loves, but that they never clarified their emotions to one another, and then Peter became a recluse and shut-in after the incident with freeing Erik, so neither of them is aware of how the other feels. After all, Peter felt personally responsible and horrified to know that his actual, biological father was... that kind of person, so he was already an emotional mess just trying to sort out the fact that he is the son of a very dangerous, very unstable man. But at the same time, he was desperate to find Erik and know if his father knew about him, to understand him better, to see where he, himself, came from.

I imagine that Peter’s friend would try to talk him out of it on the basis that Erik is a clear and present danger to people and would probably not sympathize with Peter’s plight (”He blew up the White House, Peter!”). But, since Peter is such an obstinate, bull-headed young man, he pushed on, insisting that he could find something out about his father.

Maybe it’s because, deep down, Peter worries that he, himself, is the bad guy; he worries that this kind of violence, these kinds of mistakes, this failure, is bred into his bones. His mom’s a drinker, his dad’s a terrorist. One’s a little worse than the other, but it still bothers him to think that maybe he is the result of pure dysfunction. He needs to know if that bitter kind of blood runs in his veins, too, or if he can change his fate.

So, knowing that Peter is going to run headlong into danger like he always does, his friend comes along, citing that he’ll need someone to “yank him by the ear when he does some dumbshit stunt”, inevitably.

Peter ran from D.C. to the X-Mansion in the film, so if he brings his friend with, he’ll likely have to carry her (and take periodic breaks so she doesn’t get motion sick or whiplash), all the while trying not to let his hands wander too much, nor to let himself stare at her and watch as she clings to him and her hair bounces in the breeze his speeds creates. She looks so pretty as she blinks, her lashes kissing together... He then makes himself look away so he doesn’t build his hopes up too high.

I think Peter really severely considers himself a complete and total loser, fluke, failure, and mistake, so he doesn’t think someone as sensible, pretty, and kind as his friend could ever love him. He’s happy(ish) to just stay her friend if that means keeping her in his life. He just wants something constant, something familiar, something stable, and she brings that to him.

As they arrive at the X-Mansion, he feels something’s off, and the moment he looks at the place, he gets that itchy feeling all up and down his spine that says “something’s wrong”. He sets his friend down at a safe distance from the school and makes sure to slow down to her speed so she can see him as he says “I gotta go for a sec. You wait here.”

He tucks the Twinkie he’d picked up at the gas station during their last break into her hand and zips off to handle the explosion and save as many students (and dogs eating pizza) as he can. Once they’re safely removed, he returns to his beloved and stands between her and the explosion, wrapping her in a tight hug and tucking her in so that if any part of the blast rattles them, she’ll be safe in his arms. He slows down and the world returns to normal, his friend clinging to him.

“What did you DO?!,” she shrieks.

“I just saved everyone’s lives, that’s what!”

“You BLEW UP the SCHOOL?!”

“NO, someone else did that! I got everyone out! Jeez, someone’s not grateful to her hero, huh?”

But she pauses for a moment, cupping her hands on his cheeks and noticing he has a few smudges of dirt and soot from the burning air in the mansion. She strokes a thumb over the harsh line of his cheekbone, smearing the dust on his face. He grows very quiet as his heart runs even faster than normal, its beats shaming the fluttering of hummingbird wings.

“You’re a mess,” she murmurs. “Someone’s gotta look out for you, big hero.”

“That’s why I’ve got you,” he replies. “To look out for me.”

She nods and gently squeezes his face, and he can feel the tips of her fingers brush against the long ends of his silver hair, barely a ghost of a touch. He still shivers.

In the background, stones collapse and timbers creak, letting out almighty groans and snarls as the oxygen gets eaten up by ravenous flames. Peter shivers again, but for a different reason: there’s real destruction happening before him. Hundreds of people could be dead if he hadn’t intervened, and she could have been among that body count if he hadn’t been careful.

From there, Peter realizes the severity of the situation. It’s no longer fun and games, no longer hide-and-go-seek with an absentee father. It’s life or death stakes. And he doesn’t want her involved in any of this.

Peter intentionally hides her away before he makes his break to go find Erik, insisting that she stay clear of all of this. She tries to fight him and come with, but he grips her arms and looks deep into her eyes, a strange kind of gravity in his demeanor. Peter is normally never so serious, but as he looks at her and squeezes her, she knows, things are far from normal for him.

“I need you to stay here,” he stresses, emphatically shaking her. “You cannot get into this with me. I’m not gonna let that happen.”

“Peter--”

“No. This is my problem. This is as far as I’m letting you go with me.”

“But--”

“I’m sorry, okay? Just... don’t miss me too much. I’ll always find a way back to, ya know, drive you crazy.”

He leans forward, and kisses her brow, quick and light. The gesture could almost be mistaken for something fratenal, had both their hearts not leapt and their eyes fixed on each other. His hand lingers on her a touch longer than it ought to for a platonic moment, and as he walks away, he casts another glance over his shoulder. She looks into his deep, dark brown eyes, and smiles at him nervously.

“Hey! You... you come back home to me, alright?”

Peter takes a deep breath and flashes her his biggest, toothiest smile.

“You bet your pretty little ass I’m gonna.”

She flips him off, laughing (though he notices her eyes remain tight with worry, and he blows a theatric kiss towards her, trying to seem goofy and playful despite the growing knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He wants her to feel relaxed, and to see him confident. After all, he thinks grimly, this may be the last time she sees him.

But he can’t imagine not seeing her again. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to think about her living a quiet life without his racket, without him there to bother her, to annoy her, to love her, whether silently or out in the open.

When he’s captured, Peter begins to despair and panic, though he masks it under his usual layers of humor and sarcasm. Though he’s quippy outside, inside, he’s riddled with worry. He might die here, in a metal cage, surrounded by freaks, and never get to tell the girl he loves that he cares about her.

He’s spent his whole life a few degrees removed, desperate to appear so aloof and carefree, but only now does he realize how much he wanted to say and do. He swears to himself that once he’s free, and once this is over, he’s going to tell the truth. He’s going to take her home and hug her tight and kiss her ‘til they both can’t breathe and he’s going to tell her, flat out, that he’s in love with her, come hell, high water, or the nuclear destruction of the earth.

From there, things progress as they must, and, eventually, Peter does come home. But he’s hobbling on a broken leg, covered in dirt and grime, looking exhausted and sweaty. His beloved runs up to him as the plane touches down, her hands spread as tears burst from her. He falls into her, gratefully and exhaustedly hugging her close. God, she feels so good, even as she weeps into his hair and runs her hands panickedly all across his back and torso, as if feeling for injuries.

“Oh, Peter, oh, god, baby, what happened?”

He’s in her arms and halfway ready to tell her, but pauses, resting his head on her shoulder tiredly as he smiles.

“Did you just call me ‘baby’, sweetie?”

“...Did you just call me ‘sweetie’?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second... baby.”

They lean on each other for a moment before they manage to stumble towards a place to sit down and rest Peter’s leg as the emergency response teams and paramedics appear to take care of the injured. Peter leans his head against her chest and closes his eyes, hearing her heartbeat. That pulse reminds him of the promise he made to himself.

He reaches out and takes her hand, intwining their fingers and squeezing her.

“Hey, babe, I have something I need to tell you.”

“Yeah?”

“...I, uh, I was thinking about some, um, stuff. And I realized some stuff about myself and about what I care about and... I, you know, I didn’t end up telling Magnet-Head about... who I am. Because I think I realized that I don’t really need him. He’s not my family. He’s never been there for me, and I don’t need to keep chasing him to know where I’m supposed to be, you know?”

“...Peter, what are you saying?”

He takes a deep, shaky breath and nuzzles in closer, letting his tired eyes fall shut as he takes in the smell of her; smoke and ash and just the littlest hint of perfume. All her. Warm and present.

“I’m saying... the people who matter in your life aren’t always the ones who, you know, you share DNA with. Sometimes the most important people are the ones who have been there for a long time, and you realize you love them and you can’t live without them and-- oh, fuck it.”

He sits up, puts his hands on her cheeks, and looks into her eyes, smiling as sweetly as he can with all the butterflies coursing through his stomach.

“I love you. And you’re more a part of my family than that guy could ever be to me.”

“...Are you saying I’m like a sister to you?”

Peter pauses, then snorts, rolling his eyes. He lets out a playful, exasperated sigh, and presses his forehead to hers, his tired muscles groaning with relief to find solace in her.

“No. I mean that I love you. As in ‘I want to be around you forever’ love you. As in ‘you’re my best friend but even more than that’ love you. As in ‘can I kiss you’ love you.”

He gets his answer as she rubs her thumb on his small, chapped bottom lip, staring at it hungrily.

“Thought you’d never ask, you big jerk.”

In a pile of rubble, on an overcast day, with a broken leg, after the threat of nuclear armageddon, after the most taxing and painful battle of his life, Pietro Django Maximoff has his first kiss. Far from his house, far from the little world he used to inhabit, he finds his home, pressed into the lips of the girl he’s known and loved all along.

Peter swears, for years after, that the kiss healed his broken leg. She always bats his chest and tells him to check his facts and remember the full limb cast he was in for a month. Then he kisses her again and remarks that nothing could hurt him with her love in his heart, and they both laugh at the schmaltz and sweetness of the love they’ve built together.

#this got so LONG ghksfhklfdh #gif warning #messages #peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #x men #marvel #Anonymous

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 7 years

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Rise Up

Chapter Eleven

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader | Word Count: 4197 Warnings: Angst, swearing

Song: Nightingale by Demi Lovato

A week passed. Seven days of hell. Seven days in which you were slowly going insane.

You lived in a constant state of fight or flight, your adrenalin high never waning. It was like being back there, on that world where you spent months with little sleep and even less food. Where the anxiety and continuous state of on never wavered.

Elektra’s scent, the one only you could smell, had invaded every inch of the common rooms. You could smell her in the halls. The lounge. The communal spaces. Her voice, sweetly laced with condensation was aimed at all times toward Matty. If you had to hear Matthew purred in that accent one more time you were going to flip a bitch so fucking hard.

It had gotten to the point where the rest of the team walked on eggshells around you. They all knew the stress it was causing, the nightmares it was inducing. Once it had been Bucky’s screams which had echoed down the hall at night. Now, it was yours.

The first night after Steve had fed you marshmallows until you felt like one and taken you to bed where he worked off the sugar high, you’d gone to sleep happy and sated only to wake hours later, standing at the foot of the bed with blood on your hands. Someone had brought the sword to your room and left it on the sofa, but in your dream state, you’d picked it up as you had that final day when it had been covered in the blood of your sisters, and squeezed the blade so hard it cut straight to the bone.

Steve’s yell of fear had drawn Bucky and Wanda to you, to find him crouched on the floor before you, trying desperately to coax the sword from your grasp.

Wanda had jumped in and managed to bring you back to find the blade coated in red and your hands on fire with pain.

You’d lashed out, terrified and only half aware, missing Steve by a whisper when he’d jerked back, but it had been Bucky who’d reached between you and snatched the sword from your grasp, sending metal screaming across metal.

The god-awful sound was so raw, it snapped you fully into the present, and you cried when you realized what you’d done.

Steve didn’t blame you, neither did Bucky or Wanda or anyone else, but you’d insisted afterward that Bucky keep the blade.

While Steve had taken you to medical to get your hands patched up, your heart had shattered a little more for, once she thought you were out of hearing range, Wanda broke down against Bucky, her sobs ringing in your ears as she murmured over and over again, “Never ask. Don’t ever ask. You do not want to see.”

She’d caught a glimpse of the carnage in your memory.

After, Wanda had become a staunch supporter of you. She had your back in all things, and you loved her for it, even as guilt ate at you.

The worst part was, Elektra was disarming to most people. She was refined, charming, and from what others had said, beautiful. She made people like her.

Not your team, not your friends. They were all far too wary of her, knowing what she was, but you’d heard her laughing with a few of the men in different departments, claiming her innocence and how she had no idea why the resident Valkyrie had it out for her.

Matt was no better. Everywhere he went, she had to be there. He loathed to leave Elektra alone, and she hung on him when they were together. He’d brought her to your sessions with Matt, and every time you’d had to bow out, unable to stomach the smell for more than ten minutes.

Her presence in your life was like a whip, driving you onward, wielded by a sadistic taskmaster.

Add in how Loki had not returned, how you’d heard nothing of Asgard in days, and you were unravelling. What sanity you’d gained with Matt’s arrival, what control you’d learned was all falling to pieces.

She was making you crazy.

You wanted her dead.

The worst part was, she wasn’t doing anything technically wrong. She hadn’t tried to contact anyone outside the facility. She lived here relatively quietly. Matt was happy, though he seemed less Matt with her around. He’d lost some of his spark and fire when she arrived and taken over, treating him as if he were an invalid when he was one of the most capable people you’d ever met. She was friendly to everyone and, so far, she hadn’t tried to drain the life from anyone’s soul.

It was disconcerting for, though she was Sjeletyv, she didn’t act like the ones you’d face in the past. She wasn’t an automaton bent on total annihilation. Whether that was because she wasn’t Sjeletyv in truth, but a human turned into one of the hated race, you couldn’t be certain. So little was known of them.

They hadn’t been ones to make conversation, and even when you’d managed to capture one alive, a nearly impossible feat, they had been nothing more than mindless killing machines. The ljå had been much more sentient, but by the gods, catching one of those bastards usually cost more lives than the intel had been worth. They were crafty assholes, spoke in riddles and a guttural language so difficult to understand, half the time you weren’t sure what they were saying.

Even now, over a millennium later, you still had no idea if the Sjeletyv were even of that race of crazed, bloodthirsty beings, or if that race had once been something else. If they could turn the people of the world you’d gone to assist - if they could turn your own sisters - and now the humans of this realm… who was to say what they originally were.

It made your brain hurt, and you’d come outside to spend time with Hemmelighet to clear the headache Elektra’s putrid scent had given you.

He stood within the walls of his barn, wings relaxed and head down, dozing on three legs while you worked a brush over his hide. The grooming was a way to bond with him, grow closer, and gain in partnership.

It was soothing for you as well. The consistent stroking and sound of the bristles over his hair, the way his skin would quiver or tail would swing when a fly bothered him, and the scent of warm hide, dust, and straw were pleasant. Add in the quiet stillness of the barn and the chirping of the birds, and your tranquillity was assured.

The curry comb and soft body brush went back on the shelf by the door, and you were in the process of finding the bottle of oil you could scent but not locate when the forest went silent. Not quiet like when a fox was on the hunt, but silent. The kind of silence which only came when a large predator was on the prowl.

Your skin crawled. A shiver traced your spine. Warning sirens were going off in your brain, and you palmed the dagger you kept tucked at the small of your back. “Stay here,” you murmured to Hemmelighet when the big stallion stirred awake.

As soon as you stepped beyond the cool interior of the barn, you smelt her. “C’mon out, Elektra. Not like you to skulk.”

“I was curious where you were always sneaking off to. I didn’t want to intrude.”

You turned your head to the right and walked farther from the doors to the barn. “Well, that would be the first time all week, but you’re not welcome here. This is my private space.” So far, Matt hadn’t said a word to her about the Pegasus or your personal history, and for that you were grateful. What secrets you’d asked Matt to keep, he was honouring.

How did you know? You lived in a constant state of awareness when it came to the two of them. You weren’t sleeping more than snatches at night before the scent of her drifting through the air vents would send you spiralling into new nightmares and hell, and more than once you’d left Steve asleep in your bed to go up to the roof and doze beneath the stars.

That was how you knew exactly what Matt and Elektra spoke of. Yes, you eavesdropped, and no, you had no qualms or regrets about it. You were protecting your team, your family. If once or twice you’d tuned into things you didn’t want to hear, well, at least you knew Matt wasn’t one to spill secrets during pillow talk.

“A barn is your secret?” she snickered and sauntered closer with her arms crossed over her chest like she owned the damn world. “And what are you hiding in your barn, you don’t want me to see?”

“And why would anything I do be about you, Elektra?” you asked, placing yourself between her and the door. “Now, leave before I make you leave.”

“Make me leave?” She laughed. “And sending me running back to Matthew to tell him how unpleasant you are?”

“You know, Elektra, unlike you I don’t need to manipulate my man into caring for me.”

“Bitch!” she hissed, her hands falling to her sides.

You shifted your stance, drawing your foot behind you in preparation. “I asked you to go. This is my private space and my private business. You are not welcome. If you come here again, I won’t hesitate to hurt you.”

She snorted her contempt. “You keep saying that, yet all I see is a bitch with a vision problem who can’t fight longer than ten minutes before throwing in the towel. Matthew is so disappointed in you. No wonder he begged me to come and help him.”

Her words froze you in place. “What?” Was that why she was here? Had Matt been disappointed in you? You couldn’t be certain as you hadn’t started listening in until recently. Were you such a failure he had brought in extra help?

“What’s that matter, (Y/N)? Cat got your tongue?” You could hear the smirk in her voice. “Did you think Matthew was proud of your progress? That you were getting better?”

“You’re so full of shit!” you spat, refusing to let her get in your head. It was the same bullshit Garry had pulled, playing freaking mind games. “Why are you really here, Elektra? You play this part, but it’s getting old, so spit it out already! Who the fuck are you working for, and what the hell do they want?”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about,” she huffed, turning up her nose.

You made to retort, something sharp and cutting when the wind shifted and took her scent straight in the open door behind you.

Hemmelighet let out such a trumpet of rage; it seemed to come from a thousand Pegasi as he burst out the stable door to bugle his battle cry and rise on his hind legs. His wings stretched to their full span as he pawed at the air, screamed a challenge and lunged for her.

“Hemmelighet! No!” you barked, but he was in full battle fever and wouldn’t be halted so easily.

Elektra screamed, the sound ripping through the forest as she fell back, trying to escape the hooves slamming into the ground over and over. A wing whipped forward and sent her flying into the trunk of a tree with a crunch.

There was no help for it. You knew he would kill her if he got a chance, and the only way to stop that from happening was to wrestle the control away from your enraged mount. But you hadn’t ridden him, not yet. Not when you weren’t certain you would be able to use your enhanced senses from his back. You’d been nervous even to try.

Now, you had no choice.

When Elektra shrieked a second time and scrambled out of the way, you ran for the shifting hindquarters and leapfrogged your way over them, miscalculating slightly and winding up perched nearly on his neck.

He bellowed again and rounded his back, dropping his head as he prepared to buck.

You snaked your metal-clad hand into his mane and yanked with all your might, forcing his head up and his back down. “Hemmelighet! Enough!”

He paused, ears twisting and head curling to look back at you perched too high on his withers before shaking all over. He danced beneath you, hooves moving in a restless rhythm and snapped thick white teeth at Elektra.

“I know she is,” you said softly when he warned you what she was and glared at the hated creature staring at the two of you in wonder. “But her death is not yet warranted.”

He snorted, blowing hard through his nose and you knew the feeling. The stench of death wafted from her even greater than before.

“Get up. Go back to Matt, and don’t ever come back here,” you hissed at her. “Try it, and I may not be around to stop him the next time.” She did not have the claws or the reach to be much of a challenge to your mount.

She made to speak but the sound of running feet cut her off, and you took the opportunity to dart back where you belonged. The only thing to save you had been your toes catching on his wings. Otherwise, you would have gone right over him in your lunge and likely ended up under his hooves.

Hemmelighet backed away from her slowly as your knees settled into the hollow behind his wings. With your hand wrapped in his mane, you soothed him with the other as first Steve, then Bucky, then Matt and Sam ran into the clearing before the barn.

All stopped to gape at you on the back of the Pegasus, before a small whimper from Elektra drew Matt’s attention.

“Elektra!” he gasped darting toward her and causing your steed to snort.

Hemmelighet had just lost all respect for Matt, soft hands or not, and flicked his tail in contempt before kicking viciously at the tree behind him. The sold thwack was followed by a thunderous crack when the trunk snapped and fell into the forest behind him. Granted, it wasn’t like it was as big as a redwood, but it was still an impressive feat when accomplished by what was, essentially, a horse.

“What happened?” Matt asked Elektra who was letting big false tears roll down her face.

“I just came… to talk to her… and it attacked me!” she sobbed.

You rolled your eyes. “Take her and go, Matt. I warned her she wasn’t welcome here, but she insisted on knowing my secrets. Now you know, so get the hell out of here before I let Hemmelighet finish what he started!”

“(Y/N),” Matt began, exasperation heavy in his voice.

“No, Matt. Just no. I’ve done everything in my power to stay out of your business, to let her be, to ignore the instincts screaming inside me, and the one thing I asked in return was for her to stay out of this, to leave my private business alone, but no. She can’t. She sticks her nose in where it doesn’t belong. I don’t give a flying fuck if she isn’t the same Sjeletyv that I fought. Keep her out of my business!”

Hemmelighet tensed, and you clamped your knees to his sides when he reared up to bugle and paw and scream his thoughts on the matter. When he dropped back to the ground, you smiled, wicked, cold, and heartless.

“He says, “Come here again, and your head will meet the same fate the tree just did.” Pegasi don’t have the restraint their riders do. They only know the instinct. They only know a hoof to the head is an effective way of killing your kind.”

“That’s enough!” Matt barked, turning a harsh glare your way.

It hurt to have him look at you like that, like you were the enemy when the truth was so far from it. “Matty…”

“No. I think you’ve said enough. Maybe we should pack up and go, because we can’t keep doing this.” He helped Elektra to her feet. “You’re not happy. She’s not happy. No one is getting along. I don’t know what to do anymore!”

“I’m sorry, Matt,” you said softly. “But I can’t be in the same room with her. I just can’t.” You gave Hemmelighet’s mane a twist, and the Pegasus spun away, his powerful hindquarters launching him down the trail toward the bunker. The trees were too dense for him to spread his wings, but his legs were strong, and you bent low over his neck as he raced through the forest.

The feel of a Pegasus between your thighs again after so long felt amazing, and you let him run where he would, heart aching in your chest and tears streaming down your face.

It was too hard. You couldn’t put aside the past for one person. You couldn’t look at her and not see death, not when her scent permeated every part of the home meant to be your safe place. It was shredding you to pieces. Again, there was an invader in your home, stealing your peace, making you crazy, causing you to doubt and fear and despair in the same way Garry had.

Why couldn’t you just have peace? Why couldn’t you just live your life? Why couldn’t you be happy?

The crunch of gravel suddenly filled your ears as you realized you’d left the forest, and you sat up, uncertain how long you’d been wallowing in your self-pity. Mighty wings spread wide, and you were airborne between one breath and the next. The thrust of his downward stroke rocked you back, but you gripped tighter with your thighs and threaded your other hand into his mane.

The rumble from his chest made you sob out a soft laugh. “Thank you,” you sighed, leaning down to hug his neck when he levelled out.

Hemmelighet was right. Here, in the sky and amongst the clouds, there was a place no one could take from you. Here was a feeling of peace you could only find on his back, and he would take you there whenever you needed it.

***

Steve levelled a stern glare toward Matt and Elektra, angrier than he’d been in some time. “You know, maybe you should leave.”

“Cap,” Sam murmured, giving him the side-eye, evidently trying to remind him of just why she was still here.

“No, Sam. No.” Steve stalked across the clearing. “How you been sleeping, Matt? Huh? Pretty good?”

Matt frowned but nodded. “Fine. Why?”

“Because my girl sure as shit ain’t! She relives the battles she fought with the Sjeletyv every damn night! I don’t think she’s caught more than a handful of hours in seven days. Seven days, Murdock! And all because you keep picking at her!” Steve turned his glare on Elektra.

“Wait, now, Captain. That’s not fair. Elektra hasn’t done anything!” Matt defended.

“No? Just being here is enough, but let’s recap shall we?” Steve sneered, looking between the two of them. “We asked you here to help (Y/N), which in the weeks you’ve been doing so she’s been succeeding in leaps and bounds. Then, she shows up. Fine. She’s your girl. We get it. You want her here and still have things left to work on with my girl, then she stays, but you need to pull your head out of your ass!”

“Steve,” Bucky called, grasping him by the shoulder.

Steve only shook his head. “She can’t be around you, Elektra. She can’t. It takes everything she is not put a blade through your heart.”

“Well,” Elektra flipped her hair back over her shoulder, “maybe she needs to learn some restraint? Some self-discipline. If she’s so out of control, maybe she shouldn’t be an Avenger.”

Red seemed to wash through Steve’s vision. It was only Bucky’s bone-crushing grip on his shoulder that held him back. “Don’t ever talk about her like you know. You don’t know. You don’t know what she went through!” Steve snarled.

She snorted. “Like it was anything worth crying over.”

It was as if she had no sense of self-preservation. None.

Steve lunged, Bucky intervened, and Matt jerked Elektra out of the way.

“You don’t know! A battle that lasted nearly a damn year and saw only a quarter of her sister come home! Over three thousand Valkyrie dead is not something to sneer at!”

Everyone froze.

Steve let out a frustrated huff and thrust his hand into his hair. They hadn’t talked about it. Not to anyone. She’d given Tony the information he’d wanted, but the rest… the blood, sweat, and tears… those were all for Steve to shoulder. A burden he would gladly carry if she would only let him.

Wanda had gotten a glimpse. She’d come to him the day after with wet eyes and a shaky smile and said she was one-hundred percent on board with whatever happened next. At this point, if they needed, she’d happily dig through Elektra’s mind. It was not an offer freely given by the Scarlet Witch. It was, in fact, something Wanda seriously disliked doing, but for her to offer… Steve knew whatever lived in his best girl’s head was far worse than he could imagine.

“Jesus… Steve…” Bucky whispered.

“She doesn’t sleep because she can’t. If she doesn’t have some form of PTSD, then I’m not a Captain.” He turned his hard gaze back to Elektra. “And all of it is because you stink.”

“I beg your pardon!” she gasped.

“Not to the rest of us, but to her you smell of death. Blood and death and battle. You want to know why she can’t train from more than ten minutes. It’s because you refuse to let her do so without being there. That’s how long she can stand before she needs to throw up. Before the memories are so goddamn overwhelming, it’s all she can do to force them back.”

“Cap…” Sam gasped, eyes wide and horrified.

“She can’t sleep in our room because she can smell you. She can’t stay in the common areas because you’re there too. This,” he threw his arm at the barn, “was just about the only place she could come and find a semblance of peace. You’ve now taken that from her as well. So don’t talk to me about restraint, Elektra. Don’t lecture me on how she’s handling things. She’s doing everything she can to hold it together because you asked her to, Matt. She’s trying to give you the benefit of the doubt, Ms. Natchios, but when you invade her space and cause her to have flashbacks of taking off four of her own sister's heads after they became exactly what you are, you make things fucking hard!”

They both stood, open-mouthed and gaping at him, but Steve was done. He was through. He couldn’t even look at them anymore. Not when (Y/N)’s heart was beating out a hard, pain filled rhythm in his chest. “Stay or go, I don’t care anymore, but if you stay, Matt goes back to training (Y/N) without Ms. Natchios supervision, and you, Elektra, are going to tell us everything you know of the Hand! All of it!”

With a hard huff of breath, Steve turned on his heel and stormed away, Bucky and Sam hot on his heels. They were nearly back to the compound before either said a thing.

“You sure that was a good idea, Cap?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, Steve. Ain’t it better to keep little miss soul sucker where we can keep an eye on her?” Bucky agreed.

“I won’t keep doing this to (Y/N). She can’t sleep, won’t eat, and spends all her time keeping tabs on them. The only peace she was finding was out her with Hemme, and now Elektra’s screwed that up, too. It’s tearing her apart, and it's only been seven days. And with Loki not back, and no word from Asgard, she’s struggling…”

The fast beat of striking hooves could be heard as the galloping horse came closer. She’d been so worried about riding again, afraid for both herself and Hemme, the Pegasus agreeing to the shortened form of his name for the benefit of the rest of them, but to see her up there on her giant steed, looking exactly as he’d imagined had stolen his breath.

She sat him like it was second nature, like she’d been born to ride. Hemme himself had looked like a war mount; his eyes shaded red and teeth bared. His muscle had rippled with his restless feet, setting the metal of her gauntlet flashing in the dappled sunlight and the blue sheen in his spectacular feathers gleaming.

When she’d turned him, and they’d raced off together, Steve had had a heart-stopping moment of concern, but she’d ducked low to his neck as the ache had started to throb in Steve’s chest.

Now, he turned toward the sound and watched the two of them explode from the forest. Enormous wings spread, lifted high, and swept down, sending them soaring into the sky. Here, again, she looked stunning, so powerful and strong and fierce on her big black steed.

He tracked their path, and when he was sure he knew their direction, Steve ran for the garage, leaving Bucky and Sam behind, both grinning like idiots. They’d gotten his bike fixed, and it rumbled into life beneath him as he took off after his girl.

Next Chapter

#Rise Up #Steve Rogers #steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfiction #captain america x reader #Avengers #The Avengers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #fanfiction #valkyrie

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melmakessprites · 7 years

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A deluge of bone hurting juice (2016-17 update)

Ahhh!!! *looks around* AHHH!!! *hides in a cave* Here. You can come in here and talk to me if you keep your voice down…

What’s been going on huh? We just finished up Rose City Comic Con. Numbers were significantly lower than last year, mainly attributed to the current local natural disasters (half of my state was set on fire) and the disaster that was this year’s layout…But that’s not what I want to write about today. Nah. We do conventions all the time now. I want to talk about ME. As some of my followers might have noticed, I’ve been a bit more…outspoken…some have even been so brash as to call me an angry woman. Well, let me tell you about all of the bullshit that I’ve had to deal with in the last year or so before you get your little panties in a twist.

I’ve been surrounded by death and loss since about April of 2016…

It was around that time that I had just broken off from an intimate relationship, and then about week after that, my mentor died in a sudden heart attack the week before my first gallery show. I was devastated from multiple angles. I thought I could handle it, but what I thought was letting go was really stuffing emotions down…That summer I got very sick when I stayed with a friend (see other update post) and fell into a very deep depression for a very long time….and then the elections happened. There were riots in the streets in my neighborhood. The protests are still going on and I no longer feel safe traveling alone sometimes, on my own streets.

Around November I had to face another fact - there were people in my life that were toxic and needed to be cut out if I were to progress with my own work, personal life and development. I found that some of my friends weren’t really my friends at all and that some of my male friends don’t know what the fuck consent is. I’m still recovering from what that implies.

In February we had a huge falling out with one of the larger shows of the year that we usually do because they lied to us and treated us like shit. We will never do a Wizard World show ever again. Fuck ‘em. They don’t give a shit about the people they work with, and they certainly don’t give a fuck about artists.

Then in April of this year (2017) I fell sick again. This time, while I was out of town at a show. Sakura Con in Seattle. I had to go to ER while I was out there. Do you know how embarrassing it is to be wheeled out through an audience of several thousand fans and cosplayers to an ambulance? Truly, a nightmare come to life! We had trouble with their staff too, but that’s posted elsewhere. As soon as I came back to Portland, I was still puking my brains out and had to go to the ER again. They did an ultrasound on me and I had a gallstone the size of a large marble that needed to be removed immediately. I barely even remember going to the hospital or being barely awake to sign the consent forms for the surgery. I was riddled with anxiety and exhaustion. And in all honesty, I was in so much pain that I just wanted to die at that moment. But I didn’t, and I woke up in the maternity ward because they were out of beds in the regular hospital so I had a nice big room with a window and a view. Silver linings I guess? I barely had time to recover as I was just getting through show 2 of 10 weeks of shows in a row. That month a friend of mine, of 15 years, totally fucked up and I had to let him go too. HOLY SHIT. Can’t get much worse, right? Riiiiight…

In May I had to deal with a creepy stalker but my friends had my back on that one so it’s resolved as far as I’m concerned. Bitches get blacklisted. If that idiot comes anywhere near me, I won’t be afraid to defend myself….which is why I’m lucky I wasn’t on this train…In late May, I did Furlandia. I was traveling via public transit. On Friday May 26th as the shuttle from the Sheraton pulled up to the airport, an alarm was sounding and a message played over the loud speaker. We were made aware that someone, no, two people had been stabbed on the train. Later on we found out that they weren’t just stabbed, they were slain. Some white supremacist crazy guy was harassing a Muslim woman and two men were brave enough to stand up to him. He slashed both of their throats, and as I would find out later on, it was never reported on news outside much of Oregon. Or at least the people from out of town I spoke to had no idea it had happened. I know that media blackout is a thing that happens, but this is just horrible. I’m so lucky to not have been on that train. Had I left when I had originally intended to, I would have been, but I stayed around another 10 minutes in the lobby to make a sale and so barely missed the death train…

Most of the summer was spent catching up on show stock arts and crafts as well as trying to recover while making sure bills and everything are taken care of. It’s been hard for me to eat. My stomach is still recovering and I’m dealing with mild to severe nausea. Going to doctor’s appointments and therapy to work everything out. Then comes this trip in Arizona…

I’ve just spent the last 2 weeks busting my ass, hand-drawing a 30 page comic just to say that I could do it and I’m looking forward to some relaxing time. However, I went far past the healthy work threshold, and between the stress, exhaustion, and mental anguish, my body freaked out again. This would be one of my worst battles yet.

I flew in, got set up, and the first day went smoothly for the most part. Then friday evening, I got sick. I don’t think I’d eaten enough…maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the reminders of where I’d come from up to that point…whatever it was, by body wasn’t having it. I won’t go into too much detail but there was multiple panic attacks and screaming/sobbing in the hotel room, uncontrollable vomiting for several days while my body wasted away, there were two trips to the ER, some people on suicide watch, a missed flight, half a week in a piss poor institution that I had no place in being, and severely lost faith in humanity. What I took from it is this - I’m never doing another show in AZ again. Their health care system is fucking garbage. I’m still getting bills that they never even sent to my insurance company because they’re so goddamn bad at what they do. And after all that? STILL NO ANSWERS. Not about me, not about my health condition. I had to FIGHT my way OUT in order to catch my flight back home in time for the Eclipse. And because I’m a sick mother fucker like that, I ended up cosplaying Griffith at RCCC because who doesn’t love getting locked up only to emerge on the dawn of the eclipse?

Coming down off of all of the meds they force fed me was hell. Trying to eat again while still vomiting for days after my return was hell. You know what eventually got rid of the nausea? Soaking. Soaking in a hot hot hot tub. Just soaking…and sipping lots of water….and not puking…and soaking…and cold showers, and soaking…oh my god, why is my body trying to kill me?

Then this month we did RCCC, and numbers are down, but that’s the least of my worries. You know what else is the least of my worries? Stupid people bullshit. For instance, man-children on Twitter telling me what not to say/post. A recently received a message from a youtuber. Not saying any names, but it rhymes with Yorgen Blundersound. The poor child had the audacity to tell me how I ought to speak. And that the regular gifts I send to my art friends were not welcome. Then he proceeded to accuse me of some sort of aggressive promo shit. Listen child, I’ve been running this shit for several years before I was even aware of your misinformed ass. I’m an award winning designer, bitch, I don’t need your help. As far as sending people things, I do that shit all the time. It’s part of what makes art life fun, giving. You know what giving back to your community looks like, right? From here you look like a whiny little kid that doesn’t have his shit together and I would never work with such a temperamental, unprofessional, arrogant little shit like yourself. Congrats on just kind of being an ass I guess. ‘\’o’y

If you’ve made it through this entire thing, thank you for reading and congratulations and understanding why I’ve given so very little fucks nowadays. My life has been full of bone hurting juice. I’m sure things will get better, but please be patient with me as I recover. And if you’re someone in my life who’s only around for the good times, be prepared to get dropped like a hot beat.

I missed the deadline for the Crafty Wonderland winter show, so I won’t be there. We will definitely be at OMSI next weekend for the Mini Maker Fair, and next month we have Portland Retro Gaming Expo. See you there!

ps. i’m adding more jewelry to the etsy shop this week and am looking for a gallery spaces to host my work. Contact me if interested. Thanks.

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cherrybombusa · 3 years

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GROUP ONE - THE LIBRARY. SUCCESS.

PLAYERS:

THE ARTIST - Sloane Salt. THE ROMANTIC - Mac Walsh. THE FILMMAKER - Zev King. THE MANNEQUIN - Lilli Montgomery. THE BITCH - Zahra Jackson. THE WRITER - Noah Russell.

PERKS EARNED:

WALK IN MY SHOES: After Jamie Dyer spilled his secret to save his friends, he’s been rewarded with the ability to put other people in his shoes! If something happens to Jamie he doesn’t like, he has the ability to switch places with any character as if it happened to them instead.

MEMORABLE MOMENTS:

-MAC GOT TAKEN BY THE KILLERS. -LILLI GOT GRABBED TWICE AND TAKEN. -SLOANE ATTACKED A MAN ON LSD AND SAVED ZEV. -JAMIE SPILLED HIS SECRET TO CLARISSA - AND THE REST OF CHERRY.

OFFICER PAULIE: “Hey! Stop right there!”

CANDY GIRL: “Hello, my little freaks and geeks! Did you miss me and my little friends? Because I think tonight is about to get a little more fun.”

THE NARRATOR: ...Uh oh. Maybe I spoke too soon about the Candy Girl not showing her face.

CANDY GIRL: “Here’s the game tonight, losers! We’re gonna split you up and see if you can pass our little trials. Those who do? They get to go home tonight! Those who don’t…. Well, you might end up closer to Lux than you thought you were before.”

CANDY GIRL: “But first, we’re going on a little trip!”

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS HAVE BEEN TAKEN BY THE CANDY GIRL TO CCU FOR A NIGHT OF FUN. DON’T DIE!

THE NARRATOR: Maybe it’s the heavy doors that give away their final destination, or maybe it’s the musty smell of old textbooks, but those who had ever stepped foot into the CCU library know right where they are at that moment. It’s a comforting place for some - one that induces only stress, or indifference to others - but it’s hard to imagine that it won’t be a place that brings anxiety after tonight; just as tainted as the boardwalk, or even walking along Lux’s and Harvey’s block might be. Now is no time to think about how they might feel in the future, though -- if they even make it that far. No, they’re going to have to make it through tonight first.

The gang is led into the room like lambs to slaughter - Jamie carried not-so-nicely over one of the maniacs shoulders - but once they’re situated, the hoods that cover the gang’s faces come off; they even cut the ropes off from around their wrists, but the knives, and baseball bats manage to keep everyone in their place. The library is dimly lit, with only it’s balcony lights shining down on the grandiose room; the bank of computers on the second floor is like a beacon, beckoning them forward. It almost seems normal for a moment, like they were just there studying after-hours, but the two figures heading the circle - Candy and her supposed assistant - shock them back into reality with a clap of their hands.

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “She’s written some riddles!”

THE NARRATOR: They pull a sheet of paper from their pocket.

CANDY GIRL: “And you’re going to solve them! Don’t worry about the doors -”

THE NARRATOR: The movement is clearly rehearsed as a number of their captors - five, if you’re counting - head toward the door. Three of them leave, but the other two begin looping chains through the antique handles, locking them into the room with no real escape but up… And we know just how well this group does with climbing.

NOAH RUSSELL: Of course. They couldn't have one fucking night could they? Although what more could he have expected from the masked figure who thought a funeral was the time and place to play spin the bottle. The library of all places had a chilling feel to it in comparison to the beach. Almost theatrical like every horror book he'd ever read, and he sure as hell had read a lot of them. "I'm getting real sick of these damn riddles." He started as he thought about taking a step towards the door before thinking better of it. These people had knives, bats, and while on their own that didn't have to overly intimidating, this was the same person who only too recently before had blown up an entire carousel. "Anyone opposed to taking out the windows?"

SLOANE SALT: On some level Sloane knew that this was... a bad situation. There were scary people with what looked like weapons. Extremely tall people, some as tall as the ceiling, maybe and swaying. The hooded girl's voice sounded kind of familiar, but considering the state she was in, she could hardly pin point who it was. She hadn't said much of a word on the way to the library mostly because she didn't really want anyone to know that she was feeling weird and now she was sitting on her ass, staring at her newly freed hands. "When did I paint these...?" She muttered to herself, turning her head entirely too slowly to look over at Noah as he spoke. As she took in his words, her expression quickly shifted to offence, her eyes widening and her mouth opening in fear. Those poor windows, they hadn't done anything to anyone. "No, don't hurt them!"

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “--Um, excuse me? You’re totally throwing us off our rhythm!”

THE NARRATOR: Candy’s little Helper interrupts the conversations with an annoyed tone, as if they’re the ones inconveniencing her night. It’s strange, how nonchalant it is, but Candy just just shushes her. You can't even see her face, but you can almost just tell she's rolling her eyes beneath the mask.

CANDY GIRL: “Will literally just say your line?

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: "Fine! You need three keys, and three keys, exactly!"

CANDY GIRL: "Or you'll spend the night -"

It was almost unbelievable that it had happened at first - did it even make sense that the Candy Girl’s henchmen were even turning on her? - but the blood splashing against the tile had to have been proof enough that it wasn’t just some fucked up group hallucination… One that didn’t seem so expected by either Candy Girl, or the other henchmen.

CANDY'S LITTLE HELPER: “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

THE NARRATOR: Fair question. And the attacker should have heard it - as loud as the second-not-so-in-charge-figure shrieked - but the knife-wielder didn’t even flinch as he dragged Candy toward the bookshelves; blood pouring from the wound in her side.

The other mask - Candy’s little helper - almost considers running for it, throws the note from her hands in anticipation of getting the fuck out of there… but she hardly gets a chance when her own attacker - the other one of the maniacs who had chained the door - comes from behind her and squeezes their hulking arms around her fame. They have their own knife; one that plunges directly into her abdomen, but the Gang doesn’t have much time to watch as the attacker laughs and drags her toward his own row of bookshelves.

What. The. Fuck.

There’s only a moment of hesitation - it had all happened so quickly - but the gang wastes no more time before fleeing to opposite sides of the library, Mac helping Jamie as best as he can in the struggle. The sound of the woman’s dying screams echo across the space, shaking all of them to their core… but they all know one thing: they need to get their hands on that riddle.

If they’re locked in, then it might be their only way of getting out.

MAKE A CHOICE: MAC, JAMIE, LILLI, AND NOAH ARE ON THE LEFT SIDE OF THE LIBRARY, HIDING BEHIND THE LIBRARIAN’S DESK. ZEV, SLOANE, AND ZAHRA ARE ON THE RIGHT SIDE, MAKING THEIR WAY UP THE STAIRS TO THE SECOND LEVEL.

MAC: Tonight is the first time in his life that Mac thinks he shouldn't have went along with one of Libby's ideas. How stupid of them was it to all gather in one spot in the middle of the night? They might as well have asked Sloane to paint perfect targets on their collective backs. He'd already been freaking out enough as it was, but the sound of that blade? The blood? If he made it out of here alive they were sure to be added to his ever growing list of nightmare material. A sudden rush of adrenaline as everyone begins to flee has him nearly carrying Jamie across the room, ducking under the desk, eyes searching to see if the rest of his friends had made it over unscathed. "What the fuck are we supposed to do now?"

NOAH: Even though he knew about the kind of antics the Candy Girl could have possibly gotten up to, there was a difference between knowing and seeing them first hand. Of course it wasn't the first time he'd seen blood drawn, but the blood from cut lips and faces after a brutal run in from home failed in comparison to what he'd just seen. Candy Girl was supposed to be their captor wasn't she? The one who'd been tormenting them since night one? The one who kept Lux fresh and at the forefront of their minds, unable to move on. Watching her fall to her knees, the screeches of pain that rang out behind them as they'd ducked for cover. It didn't make sense. Any trace of alcohol that had once been intruding his symptom felt faint in comparison as he hid beside the desk. "I don't know but we can't stay here. We're gonna be sitting ducks. We need to find those fuckin' keys, but looking in a library is going to be like trying to find a needle in a haystack." He added in a harsh whisper as he attempted to catch his breath.

THE NARRATOR: Split up and helpless. Fuck. Looks like they need that riddle if they're going to make it out of here alive.

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEBODY DOWNSTAIRS MUST RETRIEVE THE RIDDLE: WHO WILL IT BE?

MAC: Mac's eyes dart around the room, searching for the slip of paper he'd seen one of their captors pull out at the mention of riddles. He wasn't even sure if it would help them at this point, considering he was almost positive getting stabbed wasn't part of the plan, but it was their best option. Right? When his eyes finally land on the piece of paper his adrenaline once again kicks in, causing him to lunge across the room in an attempt to retrieve it.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS!

THE NARRATOR: Every step sounds like a symphony in their own ears, each and every movement too-loud, even masked by the sound of Candy and her Helper's screams, but somehow Mac manages to make his way back around the librarian's desk and toward where the riddle was thrown. He gets his hands on the blood soaked paper; the breath leaving his lungs as the sound of screaming begins to die - no pun intended - out. It’s not completely obvious what he should do next, but he makes eye contact with his friends behind the librarian's desk; with the few on the second level.

They’re never going to make it out of this without each other, so they better think fast.

They hear the sound of the killers beginning to stir from somewhere within the maze of bookshelves, and just like that a plan forms in their freaky little hive mind. Someone needs to distract the killers while everyone else gets upstairs. But who will it be?

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEBODY MUST DISTRACT THE KILLERS WHILE THEIR FRIENDS GET UPSTAIRS. SHOULD THEY THROW SOMETHING ACROSS THE ROOM , SNEAK ACROSS THE ROOM AND KNOCK SOMETHING OVER, OR SHOULD SOMEONE UPSTAIRS THROW SOMETHING OFF OF THE BALCONY?

ZAHRA: Zahra peered down at the half left on the floor below. Things had gone wrong so quickly and in so many ways and compartmentalising was the only way any of them were getting out of this in one piece, so she did her best to ignore the fading screams. Instead she turned her focus to her surroundings. There had to be something she could throw down to distract the psychos - there! Her eye caught on a computer plugged in near the edge of the balcony. Wordlessly, she hurried over to it and yanked out the plug. Then, with as much of a heave as she could muster, she threw it over the edge.

MAKE A CHOICE: FAILURE!

THE NARRATOR: It was a long shot, but as Zahra tosses the computer off the railing, only one of the killers turns their head to investigate. The other? Well, their gaze lands directly on Mac.

It’s hardly a split second before they cross the room toward them, and as hard as Mac tries to fight, but it’s no use - the threat of the knife, and the feeling of it’s handle knocking against the side of his face is enough to give the killer the upper hand… At least they have time to throw the riddle in the general direction of their friend before they’re dragged away toward the maze of bookshelves.

It’s enough to the rest of the gang all in place, but they know they have to get upstairs - they have to get the hell out of there, and save Mac.. if there’s even time. They all book it as fast as they can, everyone helping Jamie along the way, and somehow they manage to make it up the stairs before they’re spotted - one of them even manages to grab the riddle, even if they were silently hoping it wasn’t Mac's last gift to them all.

At least it might actually save them.

If you want the first key, you’ll have to find Me,

I’m the keeper of the scrolls, you see.

Melvil named the system, and I check it twice,

Are you feeling naughty? Then here’s some advice:

I’ll name a book, or maybe name three -

You’ll choose the one that speaks to the dream

Of losing it all, or leaving behind

That sweet, sane, little part of your mind.

Maybe they fight it, or maybe they end it,

Maybe the pick is the one your friend mentioned.

Will your gang make it out? Maybe - who knows.

But I wouldn’t count on it, unless you all know who glows.

HOODED MANIAC: THE KILLER IS HERE.

THE NARRATOR: The killer hardly sneaks up on the, but the Gang is surprised anyway - each of them gasping as Lilli is snatched up by his grasp. She screams - she's caught - but the rest of them have a choice to make.

MAKE A CHOICE: LILLI HAS BEEN GRABBED. DO YOU TRY TO SAVE THEM OR LET THEM GO?

ZAHRA: Yeah, things with Lilli had always been a little contentious but there was no way Zahra was letting her be dragged away. They'd already lost Mac and that was fucking enough. She lunged forward and grabbed Lilli as she was snatched up.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCCESS!

THE NARRATOR: It’s a great effort, and though they don’t manage much real damage, Zahra's still successful in getting her ""friend"" the hell away from that monster. The whole group is terrified, but they’re quick on their feet as they move somewhere else that could be deemed even semi safe within the madness to solve the next riddle.... Watch out though. I think the killer saw where you were going.

MAKE A CHOICE: LILLI RUNS FOR THE KEY.

THE NARRATOR: Lilli runs as fast as she can - the gang all sneaking close behind - and with the correct location, it’s not hard to find the key taped to a shelf in the history section, along with the next part of the riddle. It should be easy to get back to their friends, but before they can even turn around, she feels hands grasping around her limbs and yanking them back through the bookshelves yet again- dragging her away toward the maze of a room to… She didn’t even want to think about it. She just knew they had to fight - but she can’t do it alone.

MAKE A CHOICE: DOES SOMEBODY WANT TO SAVE THEIR FRIEND, OR LET THEM DROP THE KEY?

THE NARRATOR: The gang can hear Lilli trying to fight her attacker - her screaming echoing through the space - and though the guilt eats them alive, they know there’s nothing they can do about it. They just have to hope that the fact that the screaming gets further and further away and doesn’t just abruptly end - just like it did when those two masked maniacs got stabbed earlier - is a good sign.

The remaining members make quick work of grabbing the key and the riddle, and try to find another safe spot in the library.

If you want to get out, don’t Twist and Shout,

It’s not the Candy Man locking you out.

If you feel Clueless, then here’s your clue -

You can find Me behind door number two.

How to know you’re close? Just think of the times,

The 90’s are ending, but gossip still thrives!

Once you’re through, don’t look any further -

Your key can be found in the one with no murder.

ZEV: Zev scopes out the Librarian's desk and makes a move for it, trying to keep down and quiet as he dashes, heart pounding in his chest.

THE NARRATOR: Zev sprints with everyone else not far behind him. The key is there, taped beneath Glenda Logan's desk along with the last part of their riddle, but at the very last moment - before the Gang can warn him - one of the killers comes and hits him over the back of the head with his knife. He's got a hold on Zev, and as hard as he's fighting, he's not going to be able to make it out alone.

MAKE A CHOICE: DOES SOMEBODY WANT TO SAVE THEIR FRIEND, OR LET THEM DROP THE KEY?

SLOANE SALT: All of the running around and masked killers has mostly been Sloane moving in accordance with everyone else, eyes bugged out of her face as she tries not to trip over her platform boots. When Zev gets snatched, it's as if enlightenment comes over her and she suddenly becomes aware that one of her favourite people, someone basically a little brother to her is in danger. "Let go of him!" She screeches as she reaches for him, using all of her body weight to try and pull him away.

MAKE A CHOICE: SUCESS!

THE NARRATOR: Maybe it's the LSD, or just sheer willpower, but everyone swears they actually see the Killer flinch as Sloane screams like a banshee toward him. They groan in pain as their shoulder is pulled nearly out of place, and in fear they run as far as they can in the other direction.

The whole group is terrified, if not confident, but they’re quick on their feet as they move somewhere else that could be deemed even semi safe within the madness to solve the next riddle.

Here’s your third key - you’re almost there!

Unless you can’t take a bit of a scare.

Your clues can be found with Clarissa Teller -

But she’ll only tell you if you can impress her.

Somebody’s secret must be told.

It’s only then that I’ll give her the gold.

So, hurry along! But only choose one.

Oh, wow, oh boy!

Now this will be fun.

MAKE A CHOICE: SOMEBODY MUST TELL CLARISSA THEIR SECRET ON THE COMPUTER UPSTAIRS. WHEN THEY DO, THE LOCATION OF THE THIRD KEY TO BE RELEASED.

NOAH: The panic that had gripped his chest as the evening grew, only intensified as they read their final clue. Mac had been taken, Lilli had been taken, he'd watched helplessly as Zahra saved Zev, and perhaps the bit that was the most impossible to forget, he'd seen the Candy Girl murdered before his very eyes. And while he didn't see the life fleeing from her eyes he could picture it a little too well. "Zev you okay?" He asked, in an attempted moment of calm and partially to distract from the racing of his own heart. Waiting the moment for some sort of nod before turning to the rest of the group. "What the hell is she talking about? What doesn't Clarissa know already?" He asked, his voice soft with profound fear as he glanced around the room. The first two clues while challenging in their own right, they seemed to fall into place, but he dreaded what could possibly be meant by the third.

SLOANE SALT: Sloane was definitely riding on more than one high at the moment, one of the unidentified form, from that pill she'd taken and one from saving Zev. She was breathing heavily, leaning on the table in the study room as she looked around at everyone who was still with them. They needed to get through this, that was the only thing that mattered, even if even the furniture was kind of freaking her out. Throwing her arms around Zev, she turned her head when she heard Noah's voice. Her mouth twisted as she fought off the urge to say something, a sly smile forming on her lips. "Come on, she doesn't know lots of secrets." Her eyes widened as she emphasised the 'lots'. In the state she was in, she was tempted to just start blurting out everything she knew, but then her head turned to Jamie and she suddenly felt guilty. "What do we do?"

JAMIE: Jamie had been watching the crew from the jump, lingering behind the rest not only due to his leg but his own dwindling motivation to be part of some messed up game when two of his favourite cohorts had gone missing with no promise of survival. This was what Cherry was now, a mecca of lost, frantic young adults enslaved to the whims of someone other than themselves. As terrible as they were, Jamie didn't believe any of them deserved to be forced to admit to something they weren't ready for. That was why he'd agreed to hide the note, wasn't it?

When Sloane's desperate eyes met his, he'd already made up his mind.

"I'll do it," he said, with little fanfare. "Can someone help me up the stairs?"

By the time he was seated at the computer, his heroic resolve had diminished. Words that normally came easy for him sat bated behind still fingers as he thought of exactly what to write when he'd never allowed the thoughts to come to real fruition.

𝐝𝐲𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞: Dear Clarissa, the day has finally come where I have to acknowledge your existence but rest assured that it's not by my own volition. I have a secret to tell you that I'm sure won't come as too big of a surprise.

Last semester, I snuck in and did the SATs for Cherry High graduates who had the means to pay. My family is in debt, thanks to my father and his frivolous new wife, and I thought I'd be able to pay it off. I couldn't, but that's not the point. The point is that I enjoyed every minute of it. The studying, the acceptance, the shining accolades.

I mean, I wouldn't have to talk to you if I just went to college, would I?

THE NARRATOR: It probably feels like a punch in the gut to be selling their own secret to the local paper, but as they press send on the keyboard - as Clarissa starts typing - the power goes out, and the room goes dark. It’s terrifying at first, enough to make the Gang clutch at each other, like it might be their last moment… But when the sound of chains dropping from the door handles echoes through the room - followed by the scurry of sprinting out of the library - they almost think to breathe a sigh of relief. Could that really be it? Could it be over?

They don’t move for nearly an hour - or maybe it just feels like an hour - but when they finally decide the coast is clear, the group of them - or what’s left of them - sprint down the stairs, and the hell out of CCU as quickly as they can. Maybe it’s a betrayal to not even look for their friends… or maybe their bodies. But how are they supposed to stomach the thought of it? How are they expected to stick around with those… killers still on the loose?

Are their friends still alive? Is the Candy Girl alive? Who knows. They just know they need to get the police down here to help their friends as soon as they can... even if it means leaving people behind for now.

MAKE A CHOICE: YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED YOUR PLOT EVENT. YOUR FRIEND'S FATES ARE UNKNOWN.

#bio rp #town rp #oc rp #skeleton rp #small town rp #secrets rp #gossip rp #gossip girl rp #90s rp #classic rp #college rp #secret rp #lsrp #small rp #small group rp #plot event 002 - the bonfire.#plot event 002 - ccu library.

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