#「 birth of a supernova」

[amalythea]

「 hold my hand, please, one last time.」

⤷ info: kazuha, albedo, aether, xiao, wanderer x gn!reader || angst, this is based on the prompt “can i hold your hand?” (or “can you hold my hand?”) || wc: 3104

⤷ warnings: death, this is v v angsty

⤷ extra: i wrote this a while ago back on soleillunne and decided that it was too good to be gone forever lmao

kazuha.

The battlefield was strewn with chaos, and amidst the clash of swords and the cries of war, Kazuha fought with all his might, his heart burdened with the weight of the lives at stake. He had hoped that his skills with the blade and mastery of the Anemo vision would be enough to protect those he held dear, but fate had other plans.

As the battle raged on, he caught a glimpse of his lover, a skilled warrior whose presence had always brought him comfort and strength, you. Your eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that exchange, you understood each other without uttering a word. It was a silent promise that you would find each other amidst the chaos.

But the tide turned against you, and the enemy’s forces seemed endless. Despite your best efforts, the defenders were overwhelmed, and Kazuha found himself standing back-to-back with you, defending against the onslaught.

In the midst of the chaos, an arrow found its mark. Time seemed to slow as the arrow pierced through your chest, and the world around you faded into the background. Kazuha’s heart clenched in horror as he caught you, your strength waning with each passing moment.

“Kazuha,” you gasped, blood staining your lips. “Can I hold your hand?”

Tears welled up in Kazuha’s eyes as he clutched your hand tightly, trying to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the pain. “Yes, of course,” he choked out, his voice trembling with grief.

Your hand trembled in his grasp, and Kazuha could feel your life slipping away like sand through his fingers. He could do nothing but watch helplessly as the light in your eyes began to fade. You smiled weakly at him, a bittersweet expression filled with love and regret.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sounds of battle. “I wish… we had more time.”

“Don’t speak like that,” Kazuha pleaded, his voice breaking. “We’ll get through this. I won’t let you go.”

But you knew better, and as your strength waned, you continued to smile at him, your touch growing weaker by the second.

“I love you,” you murmured, your breath becoming shallow. “Always…”

Tears streamed down Kazuha’s cheeks as he held you close, trying to shield you from the harsh reality of the world around you. He wished he could turn back time, rewrite the events that led to this tragic moment, but life was unforgiving in its cruelty.

Your hand in his grew colder, and your breathing ceased. Your life force, once vibrant and strong, slipped away, leaving behind only a lifeless body in Kazuha’s arms.

Kazuha held your hand tightly, unable to let go, as if keeping that connection alive could somehow bring you back. He cried out in anguish, the weight of grief crashing down upon him like an unforgiving storm.

In that moment, amidst the chaos of the battlefield, Kazuha felt an emptiness he had never known before. He had lost not only a lover but a confidant, a soulmate with whom he had shared dreams, laughter, and countless cherished memories.

And as the battle raged on, Kazuha clung to your lifeless hand, lost in sorrow, with a heart that would forever bear the burden of their memory.

albedo.

Albedo’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled his you in his arms. He was just about to descend from his lab on Dragonspine to meet up with you as he promised, only to see you laying on your own blood at the bottom of the mountain. He had seen you only hours prior, he’d laughed with you, but now, all that remained was a sea of sorrow, the bitter taste of loss overwhelming his senses.

He looked down at the face that he had cherished so dearly, now drained of all warmth and life. Your eyes, once filled with light and love, now stared back at him with a haunting emptiness. Albedo’s hands trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.

“Can you hold my hand?” a weak voice whispered, barely audible amidst the sounds of grief and despair that surrounded them. Albedo’s heart wrenched at the sound, and he quickly took your freezing hand into his own.

Tears streamed down Albedo’s cheeks as he clutched your hand tightly. “Yes, of course,” he choked out, his voice breaking with pain. “I’ll hold your hand for as long as you need, my love.”

He brought your intertwined hands to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the once-warm skin, now cold and lifeless. Memories of your time together flooded his mind – the laughter you shared, the dreams you nurtured, and the love you built with each passing day. Now, all that was left were shattered hopes and dreams.

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo whispered, his voice filled with regret and guilt. “I couldn’t protect you. I failed.”

You weakly shook your head, mustering a faint smile. “No, don’t blame yourself,” you managed to say. “You… you brought me so much happiness, Albedo. Please, don’t forget that.”

Albedo’s heart ached at the words, realizing that he had to find the strength to carry on without you. But it felt like an impossible task, as if the very essence of his being had been torn apart.

“I don’t know if I can,” he confessed, his voice trembling with sorrow. “You’re my everything.”

You fingers tightened around his hand as if trying to hold on just a little longer. “You’re strong, Albedo. Stronger than you know,” you said, your voice barely audible. “Promise me… you’ll keep going… for both of us.”

Albedo nodded, his tears falling freely now. “I promise,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ll live for the both of us. But it won’t be the same without you.”

Your breaths became shallower, and Albedo knew that your life was slipping away. He leaned closer, trying to memorize every detail of your face, never wanting to forget.

“I love you,” you whispered, your words fading like a gentle breeze. “Always.”

“I love you too,” Albedo replied, his voice choked with emotion. “Always and forever.”

And with those final words, your grip on his hand slowly weakened until it was gone completely. Albedo held onto your hand a moment longer, pressing it against his heart as if trying to keep your love alive within him.

As grief consumed him, Albedo felt a mix of emotions. Sorrow, anger, and a deep longing to see his lover again, even if it were just for a moment. But he knew he had to continue, to honor your memory and the love you shared.

Albedo gently laid your body down, closing your eyes with tender care. He stood, feeling the weight of loss heavy on his shoulders, but also the weight of your love, and your belief in him, pushing him forward. Though his heart was shattered, he would carry your love with him, always.

And as he walked away from that place of sorrow, he knew that the pain would remain, but so would the memories of a love that would never truly fade away.

aether.

Aether’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled his dying lover in his arms. The battlefield around them had turned into a chaotic canvas of destruction, but his attention was solely focused on the person he held dear. You were slipping away, and he could feel your life force fading like a waning star.

“Can you hold my hand?” you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the cacophony of war. Aether’s eyes filled with tears, and he gently clasped your frail hand in his own, interlocking your fingers. His touch was warm, providing a sense of comfort amidst the pain.

“I’m here,” he choked out, his voice trembling. “I won’t let go.”

Your breathing was shallow, and your once-bright eyes were now dim, but you managed a faint smile. It was a bittersweet expression, as if you were trying to convey so much in that fleeting moment. Memories of you flooded Aether’s mind, from the first time you met under the starlit sky to the promises you made to each other.

“You have to promise me,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “that you’ll keep going. That you’ll find happiness again.”

Aether couldn’t find the strength to respond, his throat constricted with grief. He knew that in a world without his lover, life would lose its luster, its purpose. But he understood that you were trying to ease his pain, even in your last breaths.

“No,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks, “I can’t bear to live without you. Please don’t leave. Not you too.”

You smiled again, a mixture of sadness and love in your eyes. “You are strong, Aether, and you will find the strength to carry on. I will always be with you.”

Aether’s heartache intensified, and he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. He wished he could freeze time, to hold you forever, but he knew it was slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers.

“I love you,” you said, their voice fading into a whisper.

“And I love you,” Aether replied, his voice breaking.

Your grip on his hand loosened, and Aether felt the last pulse of life slip away from you. He held onto your hand a moment longer, not wanting to let go, but eventually, he lowered it gently to your chest.

In that moment, as the world around him continued to rage with chaos, Aether felt an overwhelming emptiness inside. His lover was gone, and the pain of your absence consumed him. But he knew he had to honor your last wish—to find a way to live without you, to keep your love alive in his heart.

With tears in his eyes, Aether kissed your forehead one last time before he stood, facing the uncertain future that lay ahead. Your love would forever be his guiding light, and he would cherish every memory, every moment you had shared.

And as the battles raged on and the world continued to turn, Aether vowed to carry your love with him, a beacon of hope in the darkest of times. Though your physical presence was gone, your love would endure, a reminder that even in the face of loss, the power of love could transcend beyond the boundaries of life and death.

heizou.

Heizou knelt on the cold, damp ground, cradling your cold body in his arms. He had just returned home from work, when the last thing he expected to see was see you laying on your own blood in your shared home. He held you closer, your blood staining his hands, mingling with his own tears. His heart felt as though it had been torn apart, and the pain was almost unbearable.

The world seemed to slow down as Heizou stared into the fading eyes of his beloved. Each second felt like an eternity, and yet, it was slipping away all too quickly. He could see the struggle in your gaze, the effort it took to speak those final words.

“Can I hold your hand?” you whispered, your voice getting lower with each word.

Tears streamed down Heizou’s face, and he gently clasped your trembling hand with his own, intertwining your fingers. He felt your warmth slowly waning, and he held on tighter, as if he could somehow will life back into you with the strength of his grip.

“You don’t have to ask,” Heizou choked out, his voice breaking with sorrow. “I’ll hold your hand forever.”

You managed a faint smile, your strength visibly waning. “I… I love you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too,” Heizou replied, his voice trembling. “You’re my everything, my reason for living.”

As the commotion outside your shared home began to get louder, the people having noticed the blood stains, Heizou’s focus remained solely on you. The world outside ceased to exist for him, and he poured all his love and energy into holding you, trying to be your anchor in this storm of pain and suffering.

In your last moments, you clung to each other tightly, as if afraid to let go. Heizou’s heart ached as he felt your life slipping away from him, the person who meant more to him than anything else in the world. He wished he could have done something, anything, to save you.

But in the end, all he could do was be there, holding your hand, providing them with comfort in their final moments. Heizou would carry the weight of this loss forever, the memories of you etched into his soul.

Even as people left you two alone and the world moved on, Heizou remained on that cold, damp ground, cradling the body of the one he had loved and lost, his heart forever scarred by the pain of that fateful day.

xiao.

Xiao knelt on the damp ground, his heart pounding with anguish as he cradled your shaking form in his arms. The battlefield around you was silent, the chaos of the battle having retreated, leaving behind only the echoes of suffering and loss.

Your once bright eyes, now dulled by death, stared up at him, and Xiao couldn’t bear to look away. Your hands, once intertwined in a promise of eternity, now lay limp and still. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

“Can you hold my hand?” your voice was a faint whisper, barely audible amidst the devastation surrounding them.

Xiao’s heart shattered at those words, but he gently took your hand in his own, holding it with all the tenderness and love he had for you. “I will always hold your hand,” he choked out, his voice breaking with grief.

You managed a weak smile, the corners of your lips lifting slightly. “Even in death,” you murmured, your voice barely reaching Xiao’s ears.

“I’ll follow you anywhere, my love,” Xiao vowed, his fingers trembling as he clung tightly to the hand that was growing colder by the second. “Even to the ends of this cruel world.”

Your breathing grew fainter, and your grip on his hand loosened. Xiao felt his heartache intensify, knowing that he couldn’t change the cruel fate that had befallen you.

“Thank you… for loving me,” you whispered, your voice a mere thread of sound.

“Thank you for making my life meaningful,” Xiao replied, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m grateful for every moment we shared.”

Your eyes locked for a final time, and in that fleeting moment, a lifetime of love and memories passed between you. Xiao wished he could freeze time, to hold on to this moment forever, but life had other plans.

As the last breath left your lips, Xiao leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Rest now,” he whispered, his voice breaking with sorrow. “I’ll carry you in my heart. Until we meet again.”

He remained there, holding your lifeless hand, as tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with the blood-stained soil beneath you. Xiao knew that a part of him had died that day with his beloved, but he also knew that your love would live on, eternal and undying, no matter the circumstances.

wanderer.

Wanderer knelt on the ground, his heart pounding in his chest as he cradled you in his arms. The world around you seemed to blur, the noise of battle fading into an eerie silence. The battle had been brutal, and he had fought with all his might to protect the one he loved, but fate had dealt them a cruel hand.

Your once vibrant eyes now glistened with pain, and a weak smile graced your lips. Blood stained your clothing, and Wanderer could feel your life slipping away.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t have much time, do I?”

Wanderer choked back a sob, clutching your body tightly. “Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. We’ll get you help.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips, but it quickly turned into a cough. “You can’t lie to me, my love.” you managed to say, your breath shallow.

Tears finally streamed down Wanderer’s face as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry if I didn’t say it often. I can’t bear to lose you.”

You trembled in his grasp, and gazed into his eyes with a mixture of love and sadness. “Can I hold your hand?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Wanderer nodded frantically, intertwining his fingers with yours. He held your hand close to his heart, hoping that somehow he could transfer strength to you.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, tears pooling in your eyes. “I don’t want to leave you.”

He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and full of affection, reserved only for you. “You won’t have to. Just hold on a little longer, and we’ll get you help. We’ll face this together.”

Your grip tightened weakly on his hand. “You’re my light, my love, my everything,” you murmured. “You always have been. Promise me you’ll keep shining, even when I’m gone.”

Wanderer could feel whatever was left of his heart shatter with your words. “I promise,” he choked out. “But you can’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.”

Your breathing grew shallower, and your voice became softer. “You’re strong, my love,” you said. “You’ll find a way. Remember me, but don’t let my memory hold you back. Live your life to the fullest. Find happiness again.”

“I can’t imagine life without you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “How am I supposed to go on?”

Your only response was a brief smile, and he squeezed your cold hand tightly. “I’ll never let go,” he vowed. “Not even when you’re gone.”

Your breathing slowed, and your eyes locked with his one last time. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice fading away.

“I love you too,” he whispered back, his voice cracking.

And then, with your hand still clasped in his, you were gone.

Wanderer held your lifeless form closer, his tears falling like rain. He knew that life would never be the same again, that a piece of his heart had been taken with you. But he also knew that he had to keep the promise he made. With a heavy heart, he stood, carrying your memory with him as he faced the world without you, knowing that he would always carry your love and light with him.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[imsmallfry]

Chappell Roan as Aphrodite! <3

[tenth-sentence]

If anomalies in the abundance of ²³⁵U (measured relative to ²³⁸U as ²³⁸U/²³⁵U) are found that can be related to ²⁴⁷Cm decay, then it becomes possible to use the ²⁴⁷Cm-²³⁵U radioactive decay system to date the timing of the last supernova event and evaluate its role in triggering the birth of our solar system.

"Chemistry" 2e - Blackman, A., Bottle, S., Schmid, S., Mocerino, M., Wille, U.

[moonbells-draws]

magical girls! for a story im working on and also 2 ttrpg campaigns!

7.21.2022

[adrianl4u]

Death and Birth of stars together in the cosmos. Westerlund 2 and its surroundings, photo by Hubble Space Telescope.

The image’s central region, containing the star cluster, blends visible-light data taken by the Advanced Camera for Surveys and near-infrared exposures taken by the Wide Field Camera 3. The surrounding region is composed of visible-light observations taken by the Advanced Camera for Surveys.Credit:

NASA, ESA the Hubble Heritage Team (STScI/AURA), A. Nota (ESA/STScI), and the Westerlund 2 Science Team

[goatzillart]

Starbirth

[rageof-gaia]

{The universal law of balance🌌}

-Can be explained in simple terms as the same if not similar process of {Ctrl/Alt/Delete|RESET}

[rkmgallery]

Cosmic Vortex

This mesmerizing abstract piece shows a swirling vortex of cosmic energy. Vibrant hues of fiery orange, deep blues, and glowing yellows converge into a radiant central point. The dynamic whirlpool of colors suggests the birth of a star. It also signifies a supernova or a swirling galaxy forming in the vast expanse of space. The fluid brushstrokes evoke a sense of motion and depth, drawing the…

[entity56]

I'm collaborating on this writing project with a few other friends right now. Most of the gods have these elaborate and poetic origins. And then the sun goddess is just. Boom. There. Quite literally. (For context, the king of the gods is the god of the stars.) So basically, it's just King: (existing) King: King: King: (a star above his head randomly fucking explodes) King: oh what the fuck Heliodora, crawling out of the remains: Hi daddy! King: OH WHAT THE FUCK

[mitfloya]

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

₊˚⊹ ᰔᩚ luminous nexus — ⊱ interactions

๋࣭ ⭑ ಇ. supernova's resonance — ⊱ announcements

₊˚ʚᗢ nebula's musing — ⊱ Felsha's ramblings

₊ ⊹ જ⁀➴ constellations of stars — ⊱ reblogs

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ 𖤐 nebula's artistry — ⊱ fanarts

⊹₊ ⋆ ఌ︎. event horizon unveiled — ⊱ spoiler warning

₊˚ʚ ;༊ a stellar birth — ⊱ writing

Property of @mitfloya

[nasa]

Love Letters from Space

Love is in the air, and it’s out in space too! The universe is full of amazing chemistry, cosmic couples held together by gravitational attraction, and stars pulsing like beating hearts.

Celestial objects send out messages we can detect if we know how to listen for them. Our upcoming Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will help us scour the skies for all kinds of star-crossed signals.

Celestial Conversation Hearts

Communication is key for any relationship – including our relationship with space. Different telescopes are tuned to pick up different messages from across the universe, and combining them helps us learn even more. Roman is designed to see some visible light – the type of light our eyes can see, featured in the photo above from a ground-based telescope – in addition to longer wavelengths, called infrared. That will help us peer through clouds of dust and across immense stretches of space.

Other telescopes can see different types of light, and some detectors can even help us study cosmic rays, ghostly neutrinos, and ripples in space called gravitational waves.

Intergalactic Hugs

This visible and near-infrared image from the Hubble Space Telescope captures two hearts locked in a cosmic embrace. Known as the Antennae Galaxies, this pair’s love burns bright. The two spiral galaxies are merging together, igniting the birth of brand new baby stars.

Stellar nurseries are often very dusty places, which can make it hard to tell what’s going on. But since Roman can peer through dust, it will help us see stars in their infancy. And Roman’s large view of space coupled with its sharp, deep imaging will help us study how galaxy mergers have evolved since the early universe.

Cosmic Chemistry

Those stars are destined to create new chemistry, forging elements and scattering them into space as they live, die, and merge together. Roman will help us understand the cosmic era when stars first began forming. The mission will help scientists learn more about how elements were created and distributed throughout galaxies.

Did you know that U and I (uranium and iodine) were both made from merging neutron stars? Speaking of which…

Fatal Attraction

When two neutron stars come together in a marriage of sorts, it creates some spectacular fireworks! While they start out as stellar sweethearts, these and some other types of cosmic couples are fated for devastating breakups.

When a white dwarf – the leftover core from a Sun-like star that ran out of fuel – steals material from its companion, it can throw everything off balance and lead to a cataclysmic explosion. Studying these outbursts, called type Ia supernovae, led to the discovery that the expansion of the universe is speeding up. Roman will scan the skies for these exploding stars to help us figure out what’s causing the expansion to accelerate – a mystery known as dark energy.

Going Solo

Plenty of things in our galaxy are single, including hundreds of millions of stellar-mass black holes and trillions of “rogue” planets. These objects are effectively invisible – dark objects lost in the inky void of space – but Roman will see them thanks to wrinkles in space-time.

Anything with mass warps the fabric of space-time. So when an intervening object nearly aligns with a background star from our vantage point, light from the star curves as it travels through the warped space-time around the nearer object. The object acts like a natural lens, focusing and amplifying the background star’s light.

Thanks to this observational effect, which makes stars appear to temporarily pulse brighter, Roman will reveal all kinds of things we’d never be able to see otherwise.

Roman is nearly ready to set its sights on so many celestial spectacles. Follow along with the mission’s build progress in this interactive virtual tour of the observatory, and check out these space-themed Valentine’s Day cards.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[bluerosefox]

To Protect Them

Another DPxDC idea with twins Danny and Damian.

'He knows.'

That was only message Danny received before he felt like he had dropped in freezing cold Arctic waters naked and felt if he remembered to breathe at this moment he would see his own breath, even though he had an ice core and no longer felt actual cold anymore, and for a moment the world around him faded into nothing.

No sound, no touch, not even smell.

Nothing.

Then like a supernova, everything around him exploded.

Everything was too loud, to strong, his skin felt hot and cold at the same time somehow. The feeling of dread crawled up his body.

He needed to go.

Run.

This message was his only warning. The only thing his birth mother could send him in regards of help. He knows it, he knows she can't do anything else but this. He also knows she wants to do more but in order continue to be the eyes and ears inside of the hellhole he once called home, a place he both hated and feared yet somehow still loved if only for the memories of his mother and brother, she could not do anything more.

"Hey Dann-o! Anything good in the mail today!?" Came the loud voice of Jack Fenton, his adopted dad, from the doorway. The same man who took one look at a muddy, dirty, tense, untrusting, almost fully feral little six year old Danyal al Ghul who held onto his only daughter hand when she dragged him home after finding him behind the Nasty Burger looking for food, and decided point blank that he was now a Fenton. That Danny, Daniel was his son as if he always was.

Danny could feel his lip tremble when he realized if he ran, if he booked it out of Amity now, the people he loved, the people he would happily die for, would be targeted. It wouldn't matter if he faked his death, or just left with no warning and never contacted them ever, ever again.

They would be killed for just knowing him.

For their deaths would be his punishment.

Danny could feel the rest of the mail in his hands, the ones he had went outside to get before breakfast cause his mom asked him to, fall out of them, the only one staying was the message from his birth mother. He took in a shaky uneven breath and turned around.

His face no doubt was pale, paler than it normally was, and his body trembled, and Danny had no doubt that despite all the training he had learned when he was in the League that even if he brought it out and pretended he was fine, his dad would be able to tell something was wrong.

Because his dad's happy cheerful face shifted to a concerned worried frown, a frown Danny hadn't seen in a few years, a frown that was common when Danny would wake in the middle of the night screaming, begging, or cursing in his native language or when he would be spooked enough to reach for a knife. But even with those moments the man never ever found fault in Danny, instead he would lower his voice and speak softly to Danny, waiting until he calmed down before asking if it would be okay to touch or hug him. Then he would sit with Danny for hours, keeping his normally loud and booming voice soft as he talked about random things, like family fudge recipes and how they came to be.

"Danny?" Jack asked softly as he took a small step forward, one of his hands lifted up as if asking permission to reach out.

Danny wanted nothing more than to rush into his dad's arms and hide in his large frame. Hide from the world around him but Danny knows he didn't have time, none of them did.

He took in one more breath and could feel his body stop shaking, his mind no longer chaotic, and his nerves steeling up. For the first time in a long, long time, he wasn't Daniel 'Danny' Fenton anymore.

He was Danyal al Ghul again.

"Dad. Get mom and Jazz into the GAV. Now." Danny ordered, his eyes narrowing as he clutched the message in his hand tight.

His dad knew something big was going down.

And he trusted Danny enough to do so quickly.

Danny closed his eyes as his dad ran into the house, yelling for Maddie and Jazz to get into the GAV. Danny opened them when he could feel the message in his hands slowly being covered in ice and knew his eyes were now glowing green.

He didn't have a lot of time. He needed to get his family, Tucker, and Sam out of Amity.

He needed to get them someplace safe.

He needed backup. More than his family and his friends.

He needed-

Danny nearly jumped when he realized who he can call to help.

In a flash he took his phone out of his pocket and quickly dialed a number he barely liked calling but needed to do so at this moment.

He waited, it felt like ages and it was agonizing, before the person on the other line finally picked up.

"What do you want-" came a somewhat same but rougher sounding of his voice but Danny cut him off.

"Dan, he knows." was the only thing Danny needed to say because he could hear the sharp intake of breath.

"Get them here now." was the order.

"Already on it. Is Ellie and Vlad with you?"

"Yes."

"Good. We'll be there shorty. Keep them safe."

"And then what?" Came the gruff question.

"Then... Then we'll prepare and call in Father and Damian. We need all the help we can get."

".....He won't be happy... About everything. Our... your fake death you know."

".... I know. But hopefully Father and the rest of his batclan will keep him from lashing out too much, especially with civilians and innocent lives on the line."

The two, Danny and Dan fell into a silence for a moment. Danny could hear his dad trying to hurry his mom and Jazz into the GAV despite their questions

".... Explaining all of this is going to be a shit show isn't it." Came Dan's voice after a couple of minutes.

Danny winced because yeah, not only explaining his actual past as Danyal al Ghul to the Fenton's, Tucker, Sam, and to Ellie, and Vlad but also having to explain his new life to his birth father and twin brother, a brother who thought he was dead, was going to be a hell in a handbasket.

"Yeah... it will be." Came his only response as he heard the GAV starting up and the garage door opening. Dan must of heard it over the speaker phone and said "Get Sam and Tucker and get here soon. No stops. We'll fortified Vlads dumb place in the meantime."

Dan didn't wait after that and instead just disconnected the call. Danny removed his phone from his ear and quickly pull up the group chat he had with his friends, sending them a quick message to meet him now. He used the code they had set up incase the Fenton's didn't take to him being Phantom well, he never had to use it since they took the news good, well as good as one could be after finding out their invention had half killed their son and that they had been hunting his ghost side down, but since this was important he needed them to be ready now.

He frowned as the Fenton GAV pulled up towards him and knew that what happens next would be...

Stressful.

[yeyinde]

the morally questionable relationship between John Price and the darling little starlet he picks up off of the street during the golden age of Hollywood would be such a treat.

because producer!John Price is known as the best of the best in Hollywood. He has an eye for talent, they say, and a keen ability for spotting the diamonds amongst the rubble.

And of all the stars in the world, he sets his sights on you. Pretty little thing. Bright and blinding—Betelgeuse glimmering on the precipice of a supernova. All you need is a little push. A backer. A chance. And he gives it to you. Ushers you into stardom with a crooked grin around the butt of a cigar and a wicked gleam in his eyes that you—in all your artless, sheltered naivete—chalk up to pride.

The problem with sweet little darlings like you is that they all sing the same song. Yearn for the same thing. And it's so easy to mistake his interest as fatherly when the name on your birth certificate reads John Doe. And when he tells you his name is John Price, well—

It's fate, isn't it?

He told you he's been married once but had no children, and the longing in his eyes must be for the family he's never got a chance to have. So, you promise to give it to him.

Problem is: the devil lives in Hollywood and drinks his whiskey neat. You told him you'd be his family, giving him the one that left him behind. Signed your soul to blue eyes for the big screen.

Not that you'd know this, of course. To you, John is a sad widower with a heart of gold. Your overprotective bear who snarls at the directors and actors who get a little too handsy with you on set. His darling little star.

It's easy to wave everyone off when they express concern about these blurring lines between employee and employer. Boss and—

Father figure.

They just don't know him like you do.

And how funny, you tell him one evening with a wry twist to your lips, eyes swimming with sheltered mischief. They thought we were lovers, Mr Price. Isn't that just the damnedest thing?

This little quip has the opposite effect, and if only you looked a little bit closer at the gleam in his eye, the clench in his jaw, you might have seen the storm gathering on the horizon before it hit. Instead of laughing with you at the director's gall, this hilarious joke, John feels you slipping through his fingers just a little bit more. And that simply won't do.

You want a father figure? Then fine. That's what he'll be. Convenient, of course, because he's been thinking about fatherhood a lot lately, too. It's only natural that he decides to cash in on that promise you made all those years ago to make him a proud dad.

[shellshocklove]

red moon risin' | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x female!reader – post breakout & no ellie AU

summary: in the aftermath of the raiders, you and joel struggle your way to jackson.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni!!! canon-typical violence, age gap (reader is mid to late twenties), swearing, canon-typical violence, guns, panic attacks, angst, blood, wounds, suicidal thoughts, smut, unprotected sex, no use of y/n

a/n: this is the third part to this. i know it's taken me 100 years to post this and i'm sorry about that. i've somewhat settled into my new job, but i have much less time to write now than i used to have. this story will be finished tho!

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3 / playlist / fic updates

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

Under him, Joel felt the way the mare's muscles moved as he rocked back and forth in the saddle. She was a good horse, young, but trusting; always letting Joel take the lead. It made the job easy, the patrolling, knowing his horse could read him just as well as he read her. Softened thuds left horseshoe prints behind as they rode down the tired path for the fourth time this month.

A quiet day.

The snow had given way to the sun a few weeks ago, and when the last patch of rotten snow had finally dried up, the world had flowered with spring. Birds chirped, the days had gotten longer, and a hint of what some people would call hope was in the air.

But Joel wasn't 'some people'.

Under his padded leather jacket sweat dripped down his back as the sun warmed him from behind. All day it had bothered him – it was just too bright, and all the squinting had a headache brewing behind his eyes.

Behind him, Joel could hear the hoofs of Tommy's horse and his voice muffling praise to the stallion. His little brother. The one he'd spent his whole life protecting and worrying about, had now settled down with a wife and a child. Joel was happy for him, he truly was, but it also reminded him of all he'd lost.

Joel squinted up at the empty sky, and found himself wondering what would happen if he managed to shoot a hole in the sun. Would it fizzle out like a balloon draining of air? Maybe the hole would crash in on itself and explode in a supernova like he remembered reading in one of Sarah's old science books a lifetime ago.

The death of a star, and the birth of a black hole.

It seemed fitting. A black hole. That's what he was. A monster. Your words. A killer. Someone who destroyed everything in his path; destroyed every single thing that was good in his life. The reminder of your words, of that night all those months ago had an invisible hand wrap its fingers around his heart. His breath quickened and that familiar pressure started to build in his chest – the pressure that seemed to push him down more and more.

Fuck.

His hand moved on its own, loosening the reins before it tightened into a fist over his heart, pushing against the pressure. He tried to remember to breathe but it was like his throat had tightened into a pinhole.

C'mon now, Joel told himself, just breathe you stupid old man.

When the world started to blur at the edges something black and brightly orange fluttered before him. Joel had to use all of his energy to focus his eyes where it landed on his fist over his heart.

Slowly retracting and widening its wings, the butterfly rested over his fist. Watching it with widened eyes the pressure in his chest fizzled away, and suddenly with a shaky breath Joel could breathe again.

It's okay dad, he heard in the wind, it was her voice, his babygirl's, a voice he was so afraid of forgetting, you're on the right path.

Joel studied the wings, the bright orange against the intricate black lines, and he was reminded of the butterfly he'd seen in the woods with Arthur when he'd first arrived at the farm. How it had rested on his knee, calm and unafraid of the winter to come– a winter that had taken everything from him.

He wasn't on some right path, he'd steered off it the day she'd died and he'd never found his way back. Every waking hour for the last twenty years he'd lost another part of himself to violence, to the sound of a neck snapping, a gunshot echoing, or flesh breaking open underneath his fist.

Why pretend he could ever find his way back?

Joel figured he could live with all the blood on his hands, and all the nightmares reminding him of all the lives he's taken. They had all blurred together by now, all the red, like how you could get lost staring at a Rothko painting.

Shifting his weight in the saddle, the strap of his shotgun dug into his shoulder and rubbed at where he ached. The wound had healed up now, finally, but he'd wished it had taken him. Infection might've been the cruelest way to go, but didn't he deserve it after everything he'd done? To die painfully?

The only solace he could find in surviving was that you were finally safe. He didn't care that he was alone or that you hated him, you were safe– that's what he'd told you.

Down the barrel of Joel's gun your body shook, visibly, with widened eyes full of fright and your hands above your head. They were shaking too, your hands. To your left, inches from you, the man's lifeless body spilled red, feeling nothing as the life of him pooled in a steady stream at your knees where it stained your jeans. The wood drank greedily, feeding the foundation of the hunting cabin, turning fat and gluttonous from Joel's generous offering.

The way your eyes met his, terrified and disturbed, pulled him from the trance that had clouded his mind with fire smoke. Dropping his gun, he moved with haste, falling to his knees to take your head in his palms. Joel didn't realize how cold his hands were until they met your warm cheeks, but the way you flinched at his touch yanked at his heart.

"Shh," he cooed, "You're safe now, angel, you're safe," he told you, almost desperate.

"H-he's d-dead," you stuttered, "J-Jonah's d-dead."

He tried to soothe you, rubbing his fingers over your skin, but still you trembled under his touch. Worse, you didn't meet his gaze, instead your eyes stared a hole in his shoulder. Or maybe it was the bullet from the man bleeding out beside you?

"Y-you're b-bleeding," you muttered.

When Joel's own eyes found his shoulder he realized his mistake. Maybe it was the adrenaline leaving his body, or the way your terrified eyes looked at him, but the ache in his shoulder intensified into an excruciating pain.

Gritting his teeth, Joel had to pull himself together before answering, "I'm okay, angel, I'm okay." He emphasized every word with a rub of his thumb over your cheek, but what he'd meant to be a soothing action, instead, smeared blood in thumb sized streaks over your skin.

Fat wet tears mixed with the blood, and lines of salty rivers cut through the iron stains. The look on your face hurt more than the open wound and awakened the beast inside of Joel who screamed at him to protect, protect, protect.

"It's okay," he told you again, "you're safe."

Like repeating himself would do the trick, like if only he said it enough times it would come true, like hearing it again would convince him that the world wasn't broken.

More tears streamed down your cheeks, the drops wetting his fingers where they pooled over the ridges of his skin. You were shaking as you watched the blood pour out of his wound, or maybe this time it was him that was shaking? Joel couldn't tell – Joel didn't want to know – he just needed to feel you close, and know that you were real.

His nose pressed harshly into yours as he caught your lips in a rushed kiss, and he melted against you as all borrowed adrenaline-fueled energy seeped out of him and into your kiss. In his hands your body finally relaxed, the shocked stiffness of your muscles fading you away into a puddle of a woman – the water of you soon to run through his fingers.

The winter wind howled like a clown, laughing at Joel's attempt at orientating through the endless dark wilderness. The knee-deep snow clung to his jeans with every step, and made them stiff like they had been starched. If he'd been of clear mind, and with a gallon more of blood running through his veins, they'd stayed at the cabin until you'd gotten the bleeding under control. But his mind wasn't clear, and with each step Joel took he felt the life drain out of him.

You'd patched him up with shaky hands– twirled strip by strip of a torn cotton t-shirt around his shoulder, but the wound gushed blood with every movement Joel made. He didn't know where they were going, only clearing a path in the snow for you in the opposite direction he'd come from after he'd finally found you.

There was a town, a commune, something, somewhere– he remembered you'd told him one sparkling day when the sun had shone. A place where Tommy might be, where you'd been supposed to take him come spring. But Joel's dream of spring was as fruitful as a thirsty man's dream of water in the midst of a hot desert.

When night came, the branches seemed to rustle like living things as the wind picked up its pace whipping flakes of snow in your faces. Joel dragged his feet after him, and the weight of the gun tipped him to the side. Behind him, you'd been quiet all day– the only reason he knew you were still with him was the sound of your feet through the snow and the rhythm of your shaky breath.

Joel didn't know when you'd stumbled on the river, but the wind blew harsher here, biting through his body. The snow grew thicker and wilder, and soon the only thing Joel could see was a sea of white. He knew you couldn't continue like this– you needed a place to camp and ride out the storm.

When you happened upon the cliffside along the river bank, the wind hid behind the mountain wall, and the snow didn't feel like a thousand icy daggers no more. It was a relief, but without shelter Joel knew the night would be long.

"Joel."

Your voice was quiet, but firm nevertheless. “We need to stop.”

“It’s not much further,” he said through gritted teeth, blinking hard in an attempt to dispel the spots dancing in front of his eyes.

“To where? You’ve been saying that for three days now– but not once have you told me where we’re going,” you told him desperately, “I'm freezing, starving and I'm tired– you can barely stand straight... we need to stop and find shelter.”

A sharp gust of wind blew your voice away, and Joel felt the earth crumble underneath him before a pair of arms locked around his middle.

“T-Tommy?” Joel managed to stutter out.

“Joel,” you sighed again, but there was something hurtful hiding in the lilt of your voice.

In your arms Joel swallowed hard as he felt a wave of nausea sweep over him while the beat of his heart thumped through his poorly bandaged wound. In the darkened winter he searched for your face, but the moon had abandoned him behind the clouds that spat wild and icy snowflakes.

“I think I saw some caves on the cliffside when we were walking earlier... not perfect, but–” he thought he heard you say as you locked your arms tighter around him before you started moving.

Joel's feet somehow moved on their own as you dragged him along. He tried his best not to lean too heavily on you, never wanting you to carry the burden of him on your back – but once again he had failed.

This wasn't supposed to have happened.

The gun shot should've never had happened.

It had been so easy. He'd found their tracks quickly, fresh in the snow, like breadcrumbs to follow, and once he'd found the scout, a darkness had taken over Joel's body. Every pull of the trigger was just a means to an end, just a body standing in the way of the only light in Joel's world. But when he'd kicked down the last door he'd been blinded by you, and just for a second the time had stood still while a wave of relief had washed over him.

You were alive.

The man’s finger on the trigger brought Joel back to the moment in the blink of a gunshot, and the world that had moved in slow motion sped up. Joel's own finger on the trigger was quick, methodical, sending a bullet right between the man's eyes.

You were safe.

When you reached the inside of the cave, Joel stumbled out of your hands before he felt himself sink through his knees. Catching his breath he rested his head against the cold stone wall for a moment before he closed his eyes as exhaustion finally took over his body, the pain somehow intensifying as he struggled to keep his stomach from turning.

A rustling sound pierced through the pain and had him opening his eyes. He could barely see you where you moved about the hard stone floor of the cave, crouching down and searching around the ground with your fingers.

“No,” he croaked, shaking his head feebly, “No fire.”

“We’ll freeze to death,” you told him matter of factly, continuing to search for twigs and placing them on a growing pile.

“If anyone finds us, we’re gonna to wish we did,” he managed, but Joel’s eyes were starting to get heavy despite all of his efforts, and his body sank to the floor. He opened his mouth to rebut you, but instead felt his consciousness start to slip away before he could say a word, staying alert only a moment longer to hear your voice speak quietly.

“I’ll take my chances.”

Joel dreamt of darkness and a cold that made his hackles rise. It penetrated through him, through muscle and fat and deep into his bones. Nothing burned like the cold, and nothing was as blinding as the darkness.

When Joel regained consciousness, it was because of the pain.

Blinking his eyes open an angel leaned over him. The flickering flames of the fire contorted your face – casting strange shadows. Joel felt your hands on him, saw how they shook as you fiddled with the poorly bandaged wound, and then he felt it, spikes of hot red pain scouring through his body. There was nothing to hear except his own cry echoing against the cave walls.

"Shh," you hushed, your eyes glued to his wound.

"Angel," Joel muttered, breathlessly, while his hand searched for you, for something to hold on to. Under his fingertips you tensed, your whole body twisting away from his loose grip to get a better look at his wound.

In his chest, Joel's heart cracked – a pain stronger than the hole in his shoulder. His hand fell to the cold rock, and Joel couldn't look at you. He'd been so strong for so long now, but the blood loss and tiredness had drained the last remaining drops of strength from his body.

Instead, his head fell back and his gaze fell on the cave ceiling – to how the shadows seemed to dance on the walls. They contorted against the ridges of the stone walls, flicking flashes like splatters of blood. When the shadows shifted into faces, haunting him with hallowed expressions and dead eyes Joel wished to forget, he shut his eyes tightly.

He let you fuss over him, tie the makeshift bandage across his chest again, and sucked the melting snow from your fingers. It didn't take long before his body shook from the cold, but inside he felt like burning up.

You didn't say much, but he felt your eyes on him where you'd laid him down close to the fire. Joel tried to stay awake, he didn't know why, he knew it didn't look good for him. It seemed like the night was forever, and Joel couldn't stop shaking. You sat watching the fire, lost in your own thoughts.

Joel tried to focus on you, on memorizing every inch of your face, how the lines of you curved, how your hair looked, and he knew he wanted you to be the last thing he saw before he died. He'd been ready for so long, ready to die, but now he couldn't let go. So, he forced his eyes open and watched you as you fed the small fire.

His angel.

When it seemed you'd had enough, you crept closer and laid down before him. Reaching out your hand, you hesitated only for a second before he felt your arm around him and all the tension in his body fell away.

"You should get some rest, Joel," he heard you whisper, but to Joel no rest would come easy knowing it might be the last time he'd ever hold you.

The day blinded him and the harsh white of the snow burned his eyes as Joel struggled to keep them open. Every step he took felt heavier than the last– even with your arm around him helping him with each step. From the sky a thousand butterflies flickered like blinking stars, and Joel felt his mouth stretch into a smile at the sight…

"Please," he heard a voice say, but it sounded so far away it couldn't possibly be important, "Help me, please, Joel."

Shimmering wings landed on Joel's arm and the glint of them caught in the deepest depths of him. Another set of wings landed on his arm, and another, and another, and soon he felt heavy with the weight of a child on his back. Small fingers dug into his jacket, and he felt the ghost of a kiss to his cheek.

Joel laughed.

"Joel," he heard the voice again, cutting through the warmth of his memories, "Please," it cried, but Joel just laughed.

The beat of drumming thunder surrounded him, circled him, and the weight slid off his back in a stream of red. It coated his fingers and his clothes, stained him in crimson. When he looked down at his hands his vision tunneled slowly, and for a small moment Joel frowned.

"No," he muttered, "No, babygirl, no-no-no."

Joel felt himself fall to his knees as a darkness enveloped him, the intensity of the blackness making his head spin…

Dad?

Joel perked up at the word, one he hadn't heard in a long time. Stumbling to his feet, Joel could move mountains with the strength it took to walk into the pitch black. There was something there– something bright and peaceful at the end.

Deeper and deeper he walked while muffled voices he couldn’t interpret hammered at the walls surrounding him. They didn’t matter, he felt safe in here– like he was finally where he belonged.

The closer he got, the clearer everything became. A smile crept over his features when he spotted the wooden door, and he didn't hesitate as he pushed it open. In the blink of an eye the darkness vanished, and Joel was stood by her bed.

Sitting down at the edge as quietly as he could, Joel let his hand rest over the back of his sleeping little girl. Her body rose and fell in a calming rhythm and his palm warmed at her touch as he brushed it gently over the fabric of her sleep shirt.

Then, a shout, a garbled voice he barely recognized.

Shaking his head at the noise, Joel laid down next to his daughter. She was so small – curled up into a little ball with her legs tucked up under her. Wrapping her up in his arms, Joel remembered when she'd just been born; how small she'd been as she'd slept so peacefully on his chest.

Another shout, this time clearer. His name.

Joel’s head moved to look, his eyes squinting down the darkness of the tunnel, seeing nothing. Then, a strangled wince startled him, and he looked back, only to watch as Sarah started gasping for air.

No, no, no, no.

The ground underneath him dug into his knees as he turned to sit up. Beneath him, his babygirl panted for breath.

Okay… Joel acted on autopilot. You're okay. Move your hand, baby. Move your hand.

“Joel,” the voice floated through his head, an echo like the grating of rocks against each other, his temples splitting with pain as he tried to focus on Sarah, “Stay with me, Joel.”

I know, baby, I know, I know, I know, I know. I know it hurts. Stay with me, Sarah.

Her blood gushed beneath his fingers, and the sound of her labored panting had a coldness run down Joel's back. He had to do something. The sound of her pained yelps chipped away at his heart as he gathered her up in his lap.

Come on, baby. You're okay, you're okay. You're gonna be okay. All right… baby, baby, baby, listen to me. I gotta get you up, okay? I got to get you up. All right? You come on.

Joel could feel her clammy arms dig into his shoulder as he moved her. Burning tears pushed at the back of his eyes as he tried to stop the bleeding.

No, no, no, I know, I know, I know, I know.

"No," he muttered, his mouth forming around the words sluggishly, his frown deepening, "No, babygirl, no-no-no."

"Joel."

There it was again, that same voice. It hooked itself at his neck and pulled Joel away, further and further from Sarah as she laid, dying, in his arms.

“No,” he muttered, before something surged through him, a strength he didn’t know he had, “No! Sarah!”

He was shouting now, he was sure of it, the force of his voice reverberating through his throat as he felt the vague imprint of hands on his shoulders, pulling him out of the darkness.

“No,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he felt hot tears push behind his eyes, “Please... Sarah.”

Through the welling of his tears a face swam into his vision, a face he hadn’t seen for a long time, a face he had longed to see.

Tommy?

A surprising wave of relief washed over him, picked him apart and put him together again. Joel wanted to speak, but the words felt too heavy, and he found himself somehow unable to form the words with his lips.

"I'm here– I’m here, brother."

Brother. Brother. Brother.

The word bounced around in Joel's brain as his vision tunneled again, this time darkness creeping around the edges, growing and growing until eventually, Joel felt himself slip, falling backwards into the abyss, mouth open in a silent scream as his mind went completely dark.

In the silence of the blackened darkness Joel moved deeper and deeper into the blinding emptiness. He didn't know what he was searching for, and he couldn't feel his feet move, but he knew something was wrong with him.

Something was very wrong with him.

Still, even if he knew what was wrong it wouldn't matter anyway. Nothing had been right in a long time.

Lies.

The voice echoed against the walls of his brain, like the voice came from within and not from the depths of the darkness. It didn't frighten him, it felt familiar in a way he couldn't put his finger on, a voice he'd heard thousands of times before. Joel kept moving.

Lies, lies, lies.

Her face bled through then, and Joel felt a smile pull at his face. A rift opened in front of him, and in the blink of an eye he was back in their apartment, in their bed with her arms wrapping around him.

"Hey," he rumbled, his voice stained with sleep. Her arms tightened around his torso, and his own hand found hers. It was warm and bony, and Joel felt himself relax into her.

"Hey," Tess whispered back, "Sorry, did I wake you?"

"No," he answered back, "impossible to get a second of shut-eye when FEDRA's blastin' that alarm every half hour."

"Yeah, fucking Robert," she cursed, and Joel could feel her breath against the back of his neck.

Then a curious feeling of deja vu flickered in the back of his mind, and he knew he'd had this exact conversation before. In a second Tess would tell him that she'd spoken to Bill and that they'd have to delay their planned delivery drop for the month. It was too risky after yesterday when one of Robert's guys got busted by FEDRA and most likely had ratted out their current routes.

Joel didn't want to admit how jittery the thought of going a month without the pills made him. At least he had his whiskey, but he couldn't sleep without the pills– he needed them to dull his dreams.

And Tess knew. She always knew.

Slipping her hand from his grip she sat up and pushed him onto his back. Joel let her do it, they both needed it just as much as the other. Pushing the blanket away she fumbled with the buttons on his jeans, and when he felt her hand wrap around him, Joel couldn't help but let out a breathless sigh.

She pumped him a few times before she sat up to pull at her own jeans. Joel watched her undress for him while he pumped his cock, spitting in the palm of his calloused hand to make the glide easier. When she moved to remove her shirt, Joel reached out to stop her.

"Joel," she only said, wisps of her hair falling in front of her face like a curtain fall, "let's not kid ourselves."

Tess held his gaze for what felt like an eternity, a conversation passing between them he wasn't sure he understood. It wasn't love, they both felt it, but it wasn't not love, either. Instead, it was a need. A need for companionship; a need for someone to understand who he was and not flinch away.

She helped him out of his clothes, and when she straddled him naked as the day she was born, Joel's only thought rolling around in his brain was of how beautiful she looked above him.

With one hand resting her weight on his chest, and the other guiding the head of his cock to her entrance, Joel let her use him like she wanted. A deep grunt escaped him when he felt the walls of her wet cunt pulse around him, and his hands slid up the thick of her thigh to grip dents into the skin around her hips. When she started to move her hips, Joel held her down, eyes closed for a moment longer just to feel the warmth of her this close.

His back ached when he sat up, bringing her with him as he leaned back against the headboard. Her lips tasted like whiskey, but her soft moans sweetened the taste. Tess rode his cock like the world was ending, and it had, so many years ago. She kept a steady pace; let Joel touch her how he wanted as she chased her own pleasure as well as his own. It was animalistic, both of them caught in their own worlds and thoughts.

Joel watched her face, how her mouth hung open, and the way the skin around her eyes crinkled when she shut her eyes tightly as Joel met her hips with his own thrusts. He loved to watch her like that– a side of her she'd only show to him. It turned him on, to watch her take what she wanted from him– to know he gave her pleasure. When her legs started to shake and he felt her cunt tighten around him, Joel felt his own orgasm quickly approaching. Wrapping his arm around Tess' waist he flipped them around. Taking his cock in his hand Joel hovered over her as he pumped his cock, coaxing forth his own orgasm.

"Come, Joel– come for me," Tess ordered, her eyes locking with his. With a deep grunt and a tug of his cock Joel came hard, painting her stomach and tits in ropes of hot cum.

In the aftermath Joel wiped her clean, wet cloth in soft hands, as Tess looked at him in the way only she could– like she knew all his secrets. Crawling back into bed, Joel felt Tess' arm wrap around him again– like they'd held him so many times before.

"Try and get some sleep, Joel…" she said, words unsaid lingering between them, words about his dreams, about remembrance, and about remedy.

Closing his eyes, the room faded out into black, and when the rift opened again it was morning. The sun through the yellow curtains stained the room in sepia, and in his arms an angel slept. Joel thought nothing of it as he dipped his head to breathe in the intoxicating scent of you.

Something inside him missed you, something inside him always missed you; he missed you even when he held you in his arms, it was never enough.

You stirred, heavy eyes smiling at him as you took him in in the morning light. Then the smile spread to your lips and you hovered above him, pressing light kisses to his eyelids. Whatever was wrong with him didn't exist anymore when he was with you, or it was like the thing that was wrong with him was also wrong with you, like when two puzzle pieces from two different puzzles fit together.

"Joel?" The voice was like a rock tossed in a still lake, making ripples in Joel's heaven.

No… no, no, no.

Blinking open his eyes, Joel glimpsed a figure to his right. Everything was clouded in fog, and when Joel tried to move a sharp pain shot from his shoulder and ran through his body making him wince.

"Joel!" The figure suddenly moved closer, and through the fog Joel could make out the face of his little brother.

"Where…" Joel tried, his throat dry like sandpaper and his voice not above a whisper.

"What are you sayin', brother?" Tommy squeezed his hand.

Looking around, Joel could make out what looked like a faded hospital room. The walls had yellowed over time, and in places he could see where the paint had started to peel.

"Where… is… she?" Joel tried again.

Tommy shifted in his chair and leaned forward in his seat like he couldn't find a comfortable position. His brother wouldn't meet his eyes, they looked past him, flickering to the wall behind him before he got up to push the chair even closer to Joel's bed. Squeezing his hand tighter, Tommy's front teeth caught on his bottom lip as he ignored his question, "How're you feelin'? The bullet caused you a pretty bad infection and you ain't out of the woods yet–"

Shaking his head Joel couldn't listen to any more of this, it wasn't important, "Where is she?"

Squeezing his lips together, Tommy finally looked at him. There wasn't a time when Joel couldn't read his brother, how he bit his bottom lip when he was nervous, the glint in his eye when he was teasing, or the barely there smile of gratitude he'd gotten so many times when they were kids and Joel had taken the blame for something Tommy had done.

"Tommy," Joel begged in only the way a man on his deathbed could.

"She's… she's alright brother… she's safe– she's sleepin'," Tommy told him with a friendly squeeze of his hand.

She's safe.

The words had a soothing relief spread through Joel's body and he sunk back into the bed. Knowing you were safe was like a switch had been turned off and Joel could finally relax.

He'd found his brother and you were safe. Joel could rest now.

His eyelids felt heavy then, and for the first time Joel noticed how awful he felt. The wound ached with every breath he took, and he felt somehow both like he was burning up and shaking cold at the same time.

"What happened man?" he heard Tommy ask, "You show up here– half dead and both of ya covered in blood. She won't say a thing, not to me, not to Maria… What am I s'posed to to think here, brother? That poor girl's traumatized."

Traumatized? No, Tommy said she was safe.

The word was like a trigger, taunting that thing inside of him that needed you, that thing that barked and howled to keep you safe, to protect you from everything cruel in the world.

"I need to see her," Joel said, moving to sit up. Unknowingly, he leaned his weight on his injured shoulder, sending a blinding shocking pain through his body. Gritting his teeth, Joel yelped in pain.

Tommy's chair screamed against the floor, and it hurt Joel's ears as he fell back against the pillows. Through his heavy eyes Joel watched his brother's face multiply and slowly fade away into black.

Traumatized…

No… happy.

You were happy.

Sitting across from him at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of coffee in your hand, you looked happy. Maybe a little tired, but tired in that drowsy Sunday morning way where the hours pass on their own.

Joel flipped the page of the newspaper in his hand, and in the corner of his eye he felt your gaze roll over him. The letters danced before his eyes like they'd been tossed randomly across the page. Squinting his eyes he tried his best to put them back together again.

"Forgot your glasses, old man?"

Joel could hear the laughter in your voice, and when he looked up at you you’d raised your eyebrow playfully at him. Behind you the early morning Austin sun streamed in through the kitchen window and stuck to every surface.

"Who you callin' old man, huh?" Joel teased and folded the newspaper, "Ain't what I remember you callin' me last night, angel."

Letting out something between a snort and a laugh you hid behind your coffee cup for a beat before you placed it gently down on the table. "Careful now, honey," you leaned forward on your elbows, "You don't want your daughter hearing you talk like that, right?" you whispered as you nodded towards the ceiling.

"She's sixteen– Ain't no way she's awake before noon on a Sunday, baby," Joel leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest. 

He'd done it on purpose, and couldn't fight the smirk spreading on his lips as he noticed the way your eyes trailed over his biceps. When he cleared his throat playfully with a raise of his eyebrow, your eyes found his. Something like pride bubbled up inside him then, pride at having caught you checking him out.

When you realized you'd been made, you rolled your eyes at him and stood to your feet. With slow steps you rounded the table, stalking towards him with a curious glint in your eyes.

"So we've got what? 2 hours of alone time to kill?" You stepped between his spread legs, and Joel couldn't fight his hands from finding your waist.

"Somethin' like that," he smirked, looking up at you with moony eyes as your hands threaded through his hair. A wave of emotion washed over you suddenly, like a needle had popped the balloon of your happiness and your lips started to quiver.

"Don't leave me," you begged him, "Please don't leave me, Joel."

Outside, rain started pouring down heavily, drumming harshly against the windows. A panic started to bubble up in Joel's chest and he quickly stood to his feet to pull you into his embrace.

"What’re you talkin' 'bout, angel– I ain't leavin' you," he tried to wipe away the tears starting to stain your cheeks.

"It's too bright," you started to babble, "The light is too bright– don't go," you cried.

Joel tightened his arms around you, but the closer he hugged you the more it seemed like everything fell apart. The walls of his home crumbled around him, brick by brick tumbling down as they fell away into darkness. His hands clung to you tightly, but in his fists you sifted through his fingers like sand.

Traumatized…

The room was darker when he woke again, only lit by a small candle close to burning out. Turning his head slowly he watched how the wax had spilled out onto the weathered wood of the bed side table while the flames flickered shadows across the walls. It triggered a memory in the back of Joel's mind of a cave wall and your arms around him.

A crack in the door invited a line of light to cut through his bed. It was harsher than the candle, and it blinded the drowsy sleep from his eyes. Sitting up in his bed his head felt clearer now and Joel started to remember.

He remembered the cabin, and what he'd done. He remembered how the snow had blinded him, and the people he'd killed to save you– what he'd done to keep you safe. It all came back to him in flashes. He remembered how you'd taken care of him in the cave, and the face of his brother.

"… there are clearly things you don't know about Joel…"

Down the hall Joel heard echoing voices, and he could've sworn he heard your voice answer. Swinging his feet out of bed, the floor was cold underneath him. The pain in his shoulder had dulled to a small ache, but it wasn't important anymore, only you were– he needed to see you.

"… so then you understand my concern?""

Pushing the door open, Joel felt a smile tug at his lips when he spotted you down the hall talking to a woman with a baby in her arms. Joel tried to be quiet, to not disturb your conversation, but the woman with the baby noticed him quickly out of the corner of her eye. Following the woman, you turned your head towards Joel and when you finally locked eyes, a smile spread over his face.

"Joel?" you said, almost stunned, and stepped a little closer, "You shouldn't be out of bed."

Joel couldn't care less if he shouldn't be out of bed, especially not when you were finally walking towards him, the real you this time, not some twisted dream version of you that would fade away.

The woman with the baby called out your name, and with a quick look over your shoulder you stopped dead in your tracks. "We'll wait outside for you– ten minutes is enough time, right?"

Ten minutes? What was this lady talking about?

"Okay, Maria," you said with a nod, and finally closed the space between you. Joel watched as Maria vanished around the corner, finally giving you some privacy.

"Hi," he said, reaching his hand out to touch you, his voice deep and gravely from no use.

"Um, hi," you said, your eyes not meeting his as you ignored his hand, instead your hand found his back, pushing at him to go back inside the room.

"You need to get back into bed, Joel. You were really sick– you lost a lot of blood and the bullet caused an infection. We didn't think you were gonna make it," you told him, but your voice seemed far away like they'd been rehearsed.

"I'm okay, angel," he told you, sitting back on the bed, "I'm alright–"

"No, you're not, Joel," you cut him off with a strain to your voice.

It sent a jolt through Joel's body, it perked up his senses and he could finally see you clearly. The way your shoulders seemed to hike up over your ears as you crossed your arms around yourself. It should've been his arms around you– his arms to sooth you.

"What're you talkin' 'bout?" Joel forced himself to say.

"Nothing… I– I've been staying with Tommy and Maria– that's his wife," you informed him as you started to pace back and forth, "you'll get your own house when you're better–"

The way you moved about the room had his head hurting, he wanted you to sit down and look him in the eye the way you always did– he wanted you to look at him like he was a good man.

"You mean we are?" Joel asked, eyebrows pinched together as he tried to process all this new information. He figured they'd finally made it to Jackson, that you'd been rescued somehow out in the cold– his brother had been there, he remembered.

"No."

"Why?" Joel's voice was quiet and hollow, and finally you stopped your pacing.

With your back turned to him, Joel watched you take a deep breath, and the seconds that passed before you finally spoke felt like hours.

"Because…" you turned around and Joel could see tears push at your waterline, "I don't even know who you are anymore, Joel." A tear broke loose and ran down your cheek, "I didn't want to believe the things they told me about you, but they're all true…"

Joel's eyebrows met in a furrow as he stumbled to his feet, "Who're 'they', angel? What things?"

"Please," you sighed and stumbled backwards, "please don't call me that– don't call me that anymore."

Joel froze to the ground. You'd stepped away from him and he felt like a bad dog who's leash had been yanked. There was no reason for this, no reason for you to be afraid of him.

"I don't…" Joel trailed off as he sat back down on the bed.

"I know what you did Joel–" The way your face twisted with hurt, he knew exactly what you were talking about. All the blood on his hands, what he'd done to survive all those years ago when the world wasn't worth living in. "–I know it's true, a-and the worst part is that it could've been me and you know that– it could've been me and my family."

"I know, ang–" Joel stopped himself before the pet name slipped from his lips, "but you gotta understand I did what I had to do to survive… I ain't that man no more."

"But you are," you almost shouted, "I-I saw it with my own eyes– you k-killed all those people and you didn't even blink… like some kind of–"

"Monster."

Joel finished for you, and the poisonous word stained his mouth.

i hope someone liked this? i'm very curious about what your thoughts for the last part will be, so if you have them please leave a comment, reply or an ask. they are always super welcomed, and they make me super happy <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

next part -> here!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[bellherald]

While reading, I noticed something incredibly intriguing about Law's departure from Sabaody during the Marineford arc. The snails had been reporting on everything and showing the audience gathered around the visual den dens on Sabaody history unfold until this moment.

We see the supernovas reacting to the news, commenting on the ludicrous accusation handed out by the Navy and the censorship of the war. Whitebeard is legendary because he doesn't sell out his men, they are his treasures and why this war was started in the first place. They begin to disperse, the show is over after all, but very specifically we see this at the end.

Law is the last part of this scene and he's already departing the island.

Why Law decided to intervene in Marineford has long been a curious topic, especially since the man does not give any conclusive answers on the matter himself, but this made me consider something new. Luffy and Ace's family history had already been aired to the world, two D.'s of notorious lineages that have had world shattering effects already now are the center stage. Law did not act yet. Only here is Law motivated into action.

Law set sail to Marineford because the government was cutting the feed and controlling the flow of information. Now, I wonder why Law specifically might’ve had irreconcilable issues with misinformation and a fake narrative being perpetrated to justify killing swathes of people? Law hates the World Government for lying about Flevance and blames them for killing all of his family, so to see the Navy doing the same thing again?

Recklessly as the D.'s can be, Law charges his ship and crew straight into the fray. Law saved Monkey D. Luffy's life. Saved Jinbe too, who did not have the D. and he did not just see oppose the god's by punching a Celestial Dragon in the face. Law made sure neither of them died and even went out of his way to care for them the next couple weeks.

Law went against their flimsy pretense of justice and claims that someone deserved to die because of their birth; that because of something they do not control and are instead victims of through circumstance that means they don't deserve to live. That executing them would be justified for the good of other people.

Law was the type of person that he wished stood up for Flevance and intervened to save his home over a decade ago.

[trappolia]

── MY SWEET VILLAIN, MY DARLING GOD

nanook. your aeon lover begrudgingly celebrates the day of your creation.

Nanook's birth was a fiery thing; a light piercing through the clouds like golden death, scorching the world once known as Adlivun. Their birth preceded the collapse of an entire universe, one that had somehow persevered through the Emperor's war and was strengthening their defenses against the coming of the Swarm's march. The old towers of this already dying world had crumbled as the sun rose for the very last time in Adlivun, marking the coming of Destruction incarnate.

But for all the chaos and death their birth brought upon, the day they came into being is of no real importance to Nanook. They do not remember the constellations shining upon their home when they first ignited, nor do they recall whether or not the heat remained or if the cold dark was the first thing they felt, for Adlivun was long gone by the time their golden irises illuminated what was left of the world.

It is a curious thing; for all they have discarded and forgotten of their birth, they remember yours.

What is a god? Certainly not immortal, that is for sure. Pantheons have collapsed with the passage of time, forgotten in the seas of lost religions. Aeons are just as susceptible to death and collapse as the universes they traverse and conquer. On the same spectrum, the birth of a being as powerful as an Aeon is an anomaly felt by the entire universe, a single ripple that results in the violent waves of a turning tide. Such concepts are merely specks of dust for them. What use do they have for such worries, when their lives are mysteries in the known worlds, tipping the balance of the scales simply by existing?

Nanook’s fascination with you could be dismissed as another consequence of the butterfly effect. They should have nothing else on their mind beside righting the worlds’ wrongs, ridding the universe of the cancer that emerges from the boundless stars to taint civilisations. War. Death. Destruction. Finality. Nanook is a jagged puzzle made up of the gods and mortals they had killed, universes scorched from existence like a supernova; and yet, you fit into their life like you were meant to be there all along.

“My sweet villain,” you whisper into their ear, saccharine sweet and painfully loving in all the ways they do not deserve. “My darling god.”

No, they want to say. They are a villain, yes — your sweet villain, if you continue to insist — but a darling god? No, that mantle has always rightfully belonged to you. For a being whose existence has been dictated by their status as Avatar of Entropy since birth, Nanook finds that everything seems to come together when you press your lips against theirs, your taste sweeter than ambrosia.

You are their most infuriating distraction, they think as you sit together amongst the stars of a universe that has yet to die, clinging onto their last rays of sun and hope before Nanook ends it all. it is their sweetest punishment, to have to sit here with you in their arms, so easily drawing their thoughts away from their duties and ideals— and for what? Looking at the stars together? How pathetic.

Pathetic, in the way they recognise these stars, these constellations. It is rare to come across any two galaxies that have the same formation of stars, as likely as to find a needle in a haystack, as mortals say. But here they are, their eyes dragging over the stars glimmering in the abyss. They know these patterns. They know their stories.

They remember the day.

“It is your birthday,” they murmur. Even in this soft tone that Nanook only ever reserves for you, their voice is a booming bass that reverberates throughout the galaxy. Somewhere, another star dies out.

“Hm?” you say cluelessly, looking up at them with eyes that shine brighter than the golden ichor that drips down their arms.

“A mortal custom,” Nanook replies gruffly, feigning nonchalance even as a shiver runs down their spine at the touch of your fingers upon their skin. “The stars are the same as they were the day you came into being.”

“Ah. So they are,” you say when you finally look at the constellations.

It is a strange thing— a humiliating thing; the way Nanook can barely breathe when you are near, and how the air grows stale when you aren’t. It’s as if the Aeon of Destruction is utterly dependent on your attention, your love. How pathetic. How miserable.

how true.

The aeon may have only ascended recently, the youngest of all known paths, but they have made their mark on the universe already; whether it is with the presence of the Antimatter Legion, or the existential crisis brought upon by Nanook’s very life. With their birth, one could no longer deny that destruction is the inescapable destiny of all the known universes; expansion, fusion, and then annihilation. It is the same for Aeons; the survival of the fittest, to destroy or be destroyed, to absorb or be absorbed. For as long as people still walk on the path of destruction, Nanook will continue to aim for the complete devastation of this tainted universe. They alone are the sole being who truly understands what a mistake the birth of this universe was. Each ship and planet may follow a different path, but what civilisation does not speak the common tongue of war? What universe does not know death, pain, destruction?

“What universe does not know love?” you would ask them in response to that. Your hands come up to cup their cheeks in your palm, and Nanook is undone. “Even you know love, my violent delight. Why else would you have remembered the position of the stars the day I was born?”

Would you like your death day to be on the same day as your birth?” Nanook questions you without any real malice, their voice breathless as you drag your thumb over their bottom lip.

You laugh, and Nanook hears the stars sing with you.

Why is it that mortals bother in the struggle of survival? they think. Nothing lasts forever, not even the great Aeons themselves. Civilisations rise and fall, galaxies materialise and collapse. For a new beginning, the book must end. It is simply the way of things. Nanook knows this. Nanook has always known this.

And yet, in these moments with you, they cannot help but cling onto your immortality. They cradle you close, because if the Aeon of Destruction — of all things lost to violence and death — cannot kill you, then what can? If Lan of the Hunt shuns Yaoshi of the Abundance for loving the living too much to the point of cursing them with immortality when it is too heavy of a burden to hear, then it is only a matter of time until they realise that Nanook is a threat to the balance as well. What is life without you? Merely the act of existing, rather than living— chasing a goal, without ever stopping to see the stars and consider the stories behind them.

in death, Nanook will be remembered as many things, and the Antimatter Legion will carry out their legacy just as all the previous Aeons’ factions do in the present day. Even if they must continue Nanook’s ideals in the shadows, the Aeon of Destruction will shadow the known universe for all of eternity— for what civilisation exists without the pain of violence and death? Destruction is a concept as sure as life and death; immortal, even if its Aeon has long since passed. That is Nanook’s goal, their sole purpose of living.

But on this day, Nanook allows themself a singular moment to hope that when they die, the universe will know them not only for the destruction they had reigned upon the universe, but for the fact that they did it in your name— for they had loved you above all else.

© trappolia 2024