#Like... It's good that the chapter came out during the winter break

[amirasainz]

The beginning

This is the first part of the "Sunshine behinde the camera" story. I hope you all enjoy reading this and I'll try to update as soon as possible. Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for the next chapters, let me know. I'll try to include them. Have funy and enjoy!

-XoXo

Summary: After the winter break, Lando and Oscar get informed that they will get a new team photographer. However, despide being only 18 years old, the drivers are both impressed with her work. After meating her, Isabela immediately worms her way into their hearts.

All the relationships are platonic!!!

“So, we believe that if we keep including fun games and other drivers, like Charles or Fernando, in our activities, our follower count will increase by 43 people per day,” concluded Charlotte, the head of McLaren’s Media team, with a confident smile.

It was the first day back from the winter break and the very first meeting of the 2024 season. The meeting room was bustling with energy and anticipation. Mechanics, PR personnel, factory workers, test drivers, managers, and more filled the space, eager to kick off the new season. Of course, the four most important people were Oscar, Lando, Andrea, and Zak, who sat at the front, ready to lead the charge.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you heard it. We have a promising outlook for the new season. To finally end your suffering, we wish you all the best and a good start to the new season,” joked Andrea, eliciting laughter and lightening the mood in the room.

Neither Lando nor Oscar could go far before Zak called them over. “Boys, Andrea, Charlotte, and I will need you for a few minutes. Please wait in meeting room C for us.” Before the drivers could ask their boss about this “secret” mini-meeting, he moved on to speak with one of the mechanics, leaving them curious.

“What do you think this is about?” asked Lando, walking with his teammate towards their destination. “I have no idea. Maybe one of us messed up on social media,” replied Oscar, seemingly unbothered by the private meeting.

After entering the room and waiting for a few minutes, the other three adults joined them. “Sorry for our tardiness, boys,” apologized Charlotte, always the considerate one. “No worries,” assured her Oscar.

“Boys, we have some big news for you,” began Andrea. “As you all know, Steve, our team photographer, and his wife were expecting a baby at the end of the season. During the winter break, Steven called me and informed me that it wouldn’t be possible for him to continue his job as our team photographer,” continued Charlotte.

Charlotte went on, “He said that he wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life as much as possible, and having to travel a lot during the year is neither helpful for his wife nor something he desires. So, we came to the conclusion that Steven would become the new McLaren factory photographer, you know, to give our fans some behind-the-scenes insights.”

“This means we were put in a position to find a new team photographer. Someone who isn’t bound to one place,” added Zak. He shared a relieved smile with Andrea before turning his attention to the drivers. At this point, both racers were sitting on the edge of their seats.

“Her name is Isabela Ferreira. She is a lovely young woman from Brazil, and her work is incredible,” Charlotte said, handing out folders containing samples of Isabela’s past work. “Wow, these look really good,” muttered Oscar. Both he and Lando wore impressed expressions.

“Not only is she a pro with the camera, as you can see for yourselves, but Steven also approved her work. In fact, he was the one who recommended her to us. To be honest, without his recommendation, we probably wouldn’t have hired her,” said Andrea.

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, what do you mean by that?” he asked, glancing at Oscar, who shared the same puzzled look. The three adults exchanged glances, silently agreeing to be open with the drivers.

“Well, even though her work is phenomenal, she is still very young,” started Zak hesitantly. “She turned 18 a few days ago, which makes her the youngest member of the team,” he continued. Both racers had surprised expressions. “But that means she’s still a baby,” stated Lando. Both drivers were trying to absorb this new information. All in all, it wasn’t actually a big problem for the team to employ someone so young; it was just unusual in the Formula 1 world. Typically, people started working for the teams at 24, drivers excluded.

Zak continued, “We understand that her age might raise some eyebrows, but we believe in her talent and potential. Steven’s endorsement was a significant factor in our decision. We are confident that Isabela will bring a fresh perspective and innovative ideas to our team.”

Andrea added, “We also plan to provide her with all the support she needs to succeed. She will be working closely with our experienced staff, and we are committed to ensuring a smooth transition for her.”

Oscar, always the pragmatic one, asked, “What about her travel arrangements? Will she be able to handle the rigorous schedule?”

Charlotte responded, “We’ve already discussed this with her, and she’s fully aware of the demands of the job. Isabela is excited about the opportunity and ready to embrace the challenges. We will also make sure she has the necessary resources and support to manage her responsibilities effectively.”

Lando, still processing the news, said, “Well, if Steven believes in her, that’s good enough for me. I’m looking forward to working with her.”

Oscar nodded in agreement, “Same here. It’s going to be interesting to see her in action.”

Zak smiled, “That’s the spirit, boys. Let’s give her a warm welcome and make sure she feels at home with us.”

“Look, we know this is a surprise for both of you. Trust us, we were surprised as well. But that doesn’t change the fact that she has incredible talent. We just wanted you both to be prepared for when you meet her,” reiterated Zak, his tone serious yet reassuring.

After a moment of silence, Charlotte continued, “Let’s be honest. She is an 18-year-old girl, very far away from home. She doesn’t know anyone here and will be working closely with both of you most of the time. We ask you, no, we three ask you, to keep an eye on her. This is something completely new for her, and she will need support and reassurance from us. And let me tell you, she truly is a ray of sunshine. Trust me, you’ll fall in love with her the minute you meet her.”

“It’s true,” confirmed Andrea. “She walked in here with the biggest smile anyone has ever seen,” eliciting chuckles from those in the room. “Well then, I guess it’s time we finally meet this lovely girl,” stated Oscar. Charlotte let out a relieved smile before beckoning the drivers to follow her. “She’s currently at the practice track, trying out some new lenses. Oh, I can already see it. The three of you will cause chaos around the paddock,” she smiled like a proud mother. Behind her back, the papaya boys shared an amused smile.

As they walked towards the practice track, Lando and Oscar exchanged curious glances. “I wonder what she’s like,” mused Lando. “If she’s as good as they say, we’re in for a treat,” replied Oscar.

When they arrived at the track, they saw a young woman with a camera, intently focused on capturing the perfect shot. Her concentration was palpable, and her passion for her work was evident. Charlotte called out to her, “Isabela, come meet the team!”

Isabela turned around, her face lighting up with a bright smile. She approached them with a confident stride, her camera still in hand. “Hi, I’m Isabela. It’s so nice to meet you all,” she said, her voice warm and friendly.

Lando and Oscar introduced themselves, both impressed by her professionalism and enthusiasm. “We’ve heard a lot about you,” said Lando. “Welcome to the team,” added Oscar.

“Thank you! I’m really excited to be here and work with all of you,” Isabela replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

As they chatted, it became clear that Isabela’s youthful energy and fresh perspective would be a valuable addition to the team. The drivers felt a sense of protectiveness forming. The only 18 year old girl already wormed her way into their hearts like she did with the other people she met before.

“So, you’re into photography. How did that come about?” Lando inquired. He, Oscar, and Isabela were seated in the cafeteria after Charlotte had sent them inside. According to her, it was far too windy outside for them to spend time on the track. Thus, the trio decided to warm themselves up with some tea and coffee.

“Well, to be honest, my Avó Berta introduced me to photography. After my parents divorced, my father had to work tirelessly to support both me and my grandmother. We had nothing; we lived in the favelas of Rio. That’s why my father juggled three jobs, ensuring we always had food on the table and a roof over our heads,” Isabela began.

“Wow, that must have been tough,” Oscar commented, his eyes wide with empathy.

“It was,” Isabela nodded. “Because of that, us girls were often alone at home. But after a few years, my Avó Berta fell ill and became bedridden. I always loved recounting my days and all the new things I saw to her. However, after some months, she began to forget the things I told her about and what they looked like. So, for seven months, I saved up all my money to buy a camera. Mind you, it was only a cheap one, but it immediately printed the pictures,” she said, laughing lightly. At this point, both Lando and Oscar had somber smiles on their faces.

“That’s so sweet of you,” Lando said softly. “It must have meant a lot to her.”

“It did,” Isabela replied. “So, the next time I told my grandmother about the latest adventure my friends and I had, I was also able to show her the pictures. And if she forgot after a few days, the photos helped to jog her memory.” After a moment of hesitation, she continued.

“Sadly, my grandmother passed away that same winter, so she never got to see the new camera my father bought me for my birthday,” she murmured. Oscar placed his hand on top of hers, causing Isabela to look up. “Your grandmother sounds like a real badass,” he told her, eliciting not only a laugh from the girl but also from his teammate.

“She really was,” Isabela agreed, her eyes shining with fond memories.

“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what about your mother?” Lando asked hesitantly. “Lando!” Oscar looked shocked at Lando while kicking his foot under the table. Isabela laughed again before continuing. “It’s alright, Oscar. Lando’s just curious. Well, my mother left us when I was two. One day she was there, and the next day she wasn’t. She just packed her bag and left us. No goodbye letter, no SMS. Nada. Which is also the reason why my grandmother despised her.”

“That’s harsh,” Oscar said, shaking his head. “How did you cope with that?”

“Well, to be honest, I don’t really remember much about her. The only thing I know is her name and what she looks like. The only thing I have from her, besides my looks, is a letter that she sent me on my 16th birthday,” Isabela explained.

“Did you ever try to find her?” Lando asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I thought about it,” Isabela admitted. “But I realized that my life was full with the people who stayed. My father, my Avó Berta, my friends, and my passion for photography. They were enough for me.”

“Wow, I’m honestly… impressed,” said Oscar. “After everything that happened, you turned your passion into your profession. That is something nearly no one achieves,” whispered Lando. His heart felt heavy. How could her mother ever leave this sweet girl? And then, after 14 years, only send a letter? Isabela could only muster a small smile for her new friends.

“Thank you, guys. It means a lot to hear that,” she said, her voice filled with gratitude.

After that day, the three of them only grew closer. The drivers understood what their boss meant when he said Isabela was a ray of sunshine. Each morning, she greeted everyone with a smile that rivaled the sun. Her cheerful demeanor and genuine interest in others quickly made her a beloved figure at the factory. Sometimes she spent time with the PR team, assisting them in devising new challenges. Other times, she conversed with the engineers and mechanics, inquiring about the new McLaren. They were always more than happy to indulge the young woman, often going out of their way to explain the intricacies of their work.

Isabela’s presence had a noticeable impact on the team’s morale. Her positivity was infectious, and she had a knack for making everyone feel valued and appreciated. The cafeteria staff adored her because she always took the time to chat with them and compliment their cooking. The security guards looked forward to her daily greetings, which brightened their long shifts. Even the usually reserved IT department found themselves smiling more often when Isabela was around.

But her favorite moments were those spent with Oscar and Lando. Oscar, with his calm and thoughtful demeanor, often shared stories about his racing experiences and offered advice on navigating the competitive world of motorsport. Lando, on the other hand, was the life of the party, always ready with a joke or a funny anecdote to lighten the mood. Instead of only spending time at the factory together, they watched movies at each other’s flats or went out for dinner. One time, they even went grocery shopping together, which ended with a half-new wardrobe for Isabela, 7 liters of milk for Lando, and a new TV for Oscar. How that happened, nobody knows.

During those few weeks in England before Testing, Isabela had the pleasure of meeting Lily, Oscar’s girlfriend. The two of them became best friends instantly. When Lando and Isabela arrived at Oscar’s flat for another movie night, it was also the first time the girls would meet each other.

Instead of the uncomfortable “Hey, I’m… Nice to meet you,” Isabela and Lily ran to each other for a hug. “Oh my gosh, hi! You look so pretty,” Isabela gushed while the girls still held each other. “Girl, you’re one to talk. You literally look like a goddess. I love that shirt,” Lily complimented her, making the Brazilian girl spin. “Really? I wasn’t sure if it was the right one for tonight. I didn’t want to be overdressed,” the younger one replied shyly. “Love, listen carefully. You are never overdressed. The people around us are just underdressed,” Lily assured her while leading her new best friend to the sofa. The girls sat so close to each other, practically sitting on each other’s laps, while talking about the newest paddock gossip.

Lando and Oscar only looked at the two with bewildered expressions. “What the…” “Just happened?” After another moment, their silence was interrupted by Lily, who ordered Oscar to “bring this cutie pie a refreshment. Oh, and Lando as well.” The only thing Lando could do was laugh so hard that tears started streaming down his face.

As the evening progressed, the group settled in for a movie. “What are we watching tonight?” Lando asked, still chuckling from earlier. “How about a classic? Maybe something like ‘Back to the Future’?” Oscar suggested. “Oh, I love that movie!” Isabela exclaimed. “It’s been ages since I last saw it.”

They all agreed, and soon the movie was playing. During a particularly intense scene, Isabela leaned over to Lando and whispered, “Do you think we could ever build a car like that?” Lando grinned, “With the right team, anything’s possible.”

@mclaren

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 3 673 297 others

Ladies and Gentlemen, we are haply to introduce you to our new team photographer, Ms. Isabella Ferreira. We are happy to have the 18 year old from Barsil as part of our family.🧡

tagged: @isabelaferreira, @landonorris, @oscarpiastri

Comments have been disabled

____________________________________

@mclaren & @isabelaferreira

liked by zakbrown, maxverstappen 2 650 385 others

2024, here we come 🤜🧡🤛

Comments:

@user1: OMFG they look so hot

@user2: Wait, those pictures look really good

@user3: this new photographer does an amazing job

@user4: "this photographer", girl he'd name is Ms Isabela Ferreira

@user5: I don't get why everyone is hyping up the girl. I mean, she just took some freaking pictures. That's bot so hard.

@user6: mate, stay jealous

@landonorris: let's goooooo

@oscarpiastri: 😸👍

@user7: LMFAO

@isabelaferreira: 🧡

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k words

warnings: explicit language, brief mention of being drunk, we kinda end on a bit of a cliffhanger in this one and i'm already so sorry about that 🫶🏾

summary: a night of meeting steve’s parents and trying to make a good impression and agreeing to something that you probably shouldn’t

CHAPTER SIX | ❝𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆❞

Fall Semester 2015

You spent most of the morning replaying everything that happened last night. Most of it came back to you in fragments— you and Eddie leaving the obnoxious frat party and you actually ending up in your own dorm room for once because your roommate was already gone for Winter break.

But the kiss was immediately vivid to you. 

It had ended just as abruptly as it started. Eddie’s lips were against yours for only a second before you two were getting bumped into again by a random person and subsequently pulling away from each other. 

But, as brief and short as it was, it still happened, and all you could think when you woke up was that it had to mean something. Right? 

Maybe this was finally the moment that you’d been waiting for. The perfect time to be honest and admit how you felt about him. 

You both had been too drunk to talk about it properly last night. After the quickly interrupted kiss, you were once again saying that it would probably be best to leave and Eddie was nodding, hand finding yours and leading you out of the house and away from the party.   

But you were, for the most part, sober now— the only lasting effect from last night was a dull headache— and you surprisingly didn’t feel all too scared to talk to him. Therefore, you were heading across the hall and knocking on his door before you could think better of it. 

“Hey,” Eddie said when he opened his door, smiling at you. He had on a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants and was sporting the messiest bedhead that looked very cute to you. “I didn’t expect to see you until later. I thought we’d both be dead for most of the morning.”

“I can’t sleep. My head’s pounding, but I don’t feel like throwing up anymore so that’s a good sign,” You told him as you mindlessly played with a loose string on your t-shirt that looked just as wrinkled as his. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I can’t really sleep either,” Eddie answered and opened the door further so that you could step inside his room. 

You sat at the foot of his small twin-sized bed and folded your legs under you, looking down at your hands instead of at Eddie walking over to you. “So, last night was pretty insane, right?”

“Yeah, I think we can both agree on no more frat parties,” He responded as he sat next to you. 

You nodded. “First and last time.”

“Also, I barely remember anything that happened, so we should also agree on no more drinking whatever punch is given at parties.”

Instead of once again nodding and agreeing, you turned your head to look at him. “Really? Nothing?”

“I remember us getting there and then eventually leaving. Most of the stuff in between is a blur, honestly,” He shrugged. “What about you?”

That time you weren’t hesitating to nod along. “Yeah, same here. It’s all kinda blurry.” 

He didn’t remember. 

He didn’t remember the kiss. 

He barely remembered the party at all. 

For some reason, it felt easier to simply let it stay like that rather than inform him of something that his mind clearly told him to forget. 

“I’m still driving you to the airport tonight, right?” Eddie asked, changing the subject and pulling you out of your scattered thoughts. Going home for the rest of the month until the start of the Spring semester was the farthest thing from your mind right then. 

“Oh, yeah,” You sighed. “I completely forgot about that.”

“I’ll take that as you’re not excited to see your parents?”

“Not particularly, no,” You shook your head. “And I’ll just be seeing my dad during break because my mom is on a trip with her new boyfriend.” 

“That sounds fun?” 

You let out a laugh. “Once again, not really, no.”

He smiled at you. “You can always come hang out with me in my hometown during break. My uncle would be fine with you staying with us.” 

“I really wish I could say yes to that.”

In a perfect world, you would’ve said yes to Eddie’s suggestion; canceled your flight, and spent the month with him in his small hometown. And in an even more perfect world, you would’ve still talked about the kiss with him even though he didn’t remember it. You also would’ve told him how you’d been feeling for the past few months instead of now feeling like you were right back to being stuck at square one. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

“Remember on game night when you said that you’re good at making people like you?” You abruptly asked Steve, and when he nodded in answer, you continued. “Well, I feel like I’m the complete opposite. So tell me everything that I need to know about your parents on this hour-long car ride so I can make sure they like me.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Steve said, shaking his head, and before you could protest his words, he kept talking. “But, okay, do you want me to be a thousand percent honest right now?” 

“Will I want you to take me home if I say yes?” You asked as you smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle on the dress you were wearing; a black dress that buttoned down the front and stopped just above your knee. You hoped it was a good enough choice for meeting Steve’s parents.

“Maybe.”

For a second, you considered telling him to not be honest with you— because maybe in this situation ignorance would actually be bliss— but you ultimately decided against it. “It’s fine, whatever, be honest.” 

“They probably won’t like you because you’re not the daughter of one of their rich friends.” 

“So this is a lose-lose situation no matter what?” 

“Kinda, yeah,” He responded with a shrug. “But, it’s not like they’re gonna force me to break up with you or something. They’re just happy that I’m finally in a “serious” relationship, and that’s all that really matters.”

“Honestly, that makes me feel a little bit better,” You said as you leaned back against the passenger seat and actually became comfortable for the first time in the past ten minutes. “Okay, so what lies do I need to know? Like, what story did you tell them about how we got together? Or do we need to come up with one right now?”

“They won’t care about that.” 

“Okay…” You responded, not exactly believing that a question as simple as that wouldn’t be asked, but you went along with what Steve was saying anyway. “So, any other lies? Things I should make sure to say to them, or things that I definitely shouldn’t say?”

“They don’t know about my History minor, so avoid mentioning that.”

The obvious follow-up question to his words sat on the tip of your tongue, but you hesitated. You wondered where the line was— the line that defined what you two were— and which side of it the question you wanted to ask him lied on. One side of it was obvious, two people pretending to date each other for their own reasons, but the other side still confused you a bit; this weird group project analogy that was still stuck in your head and felt nowhere close to a friendship because you still didn’t know that much about him aside from the basics.

The question you wanted to ask him was definitely more of a question that you’d ask a friend and you weren’t sure if it truly mattered for the fake dating side of things, but you decided to test it anyway because you wanted to know the answer.

“Why haven’t you told them about that?”

Steve hesitated too, just for a second, and in that quick moment you wondered if you shouldn’t have asked that question, but then he was answering you. “They would think it’s dumb and a waste of time so it’s easier to just not talk about it with them.”  

“If they’d hate you for having a History minor, they’ll definitely hate me for being an English major who wants to teach.”

He took a quick glance at you. “You want to teach?”

“Yeah, I think about it sometimes,” You shrugged. “I’d really love to write, though. And yes, I know exactly how pretentious that sounds.”

Steve shook his head. “It doesn’t sound pretentious.” He paused for a second. “Actually, yeah, it does, but coming from you it’s in a good way.”

“Thanks, I think,” You responded, laughing a bit.

He smiled at you. “You’re welcome, I think.”

For the most part, that was how the rest of the drive went. You asked whatever question came to mind involving his parents that felt important to ask to make sure that tonight went well enough, and aside from that, things stayed quiet. 

Somehow, it wasn’t until you were standing outside of his childhood home— which was huge and you tried your hardest not to admire it so obviously— that you realized that you didn’t even know his parent’s names, and Steve was answering you with a quick, “Tom and Anne,” before you two were walking inside.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“So, I’d love to know how you two met.”

Your eyes immediately met Steve’s across the table and you gave him the briefest “I told you so” look before turning to his mom. 

You took a moment to think about how to answer her question— how elaborate the story should be and what exact lie you should say— but then you decided to simply say the first thing that came to mind. “Steve’s in a class with one of my friends. He thought we’d be a good match, so he introduced us.”

It wasn’t that far from the truth so the words easily fell from your lips.

Anne smiled at that. “Oh, that’s nice.”

You smiled back because it felt like the right thing to do and then looked back down at your food, silently willing the next hour to go by faster.

The initial meeting had been easy enough. There was a quick hug with Steve’s mom and a handshake with his dad, and a forced enthusiastic smile on your face to mask your nervousness. You were reminded of when you met Eddie’s Uncle Wayne, and you only thought about it because that had felt like much more of a chill and fun introduction. 

But as the night went on, Steve’s parents seemed to actually like you and it was hard to tell if that was completely true or if they were just really good at pretending; both options seemed equally plausible to you. Even though Steve had basically said that there was no point in trying to make his parents like you, you still couldn’t help but try to make sure that things went well. 

They’d asked you so much about yourself that it felt as if they were interrogating you or that you were interviewing for their approval; approval that truly didn’t even matter, but you still weirdly found yourself wanting it, for some reason.  

You did a lot more lying than you had expected to do— and you’d later wonder if it was dumb to not expect that— but the lying mainly consisted of a lot of pretending and acting like you knew stuff that you didn’t. This night only further proved to you that you really didn’t know Steve at all. You learned that he used to play basketball in high school and even Freshman year of college, and apparently, he had been really good at it. His dad randomly mentioned it and you figured that that was something that a girlfriend would’ve already known about so you simply nodded along when he talked about Steve’s many past accomplishments with the sport.

You also nodded along when Anne said, “Has Steve told you about his cousin’s wedding that’s coming up soon?”

“Oh, yes, he mentioned it to me a few times.”

“Great, so you already know that it falls perfectly on your guys’ spring break this year,” She said, and you continued to nod, pretending as if this wasn’t completely new information to you. “You should come to it too.”

You didn’t get the chance to even think of a response before Steve was jumping in. “She can’t come.”

Anne looked at him just for a second and then looked back at you. “Are you sure you can’t? We’ll pay for your flight and everything.”

“Oh, um…” You trailed off, unsure of how to say no in the nicest way possible. You knew why Steve had immediately tried to shut this wedding thing down— because spring break was weeks after you two had planned to stop fake dating— but you obviously couldn’t use that as the reason to say no to his mom right then.

“She already has plans for that week,” Steve said, saving you. 

It wasn’t that good of a save, though, because Anne persisted on, eyes still on you and a smile on her face. “Oh, I’m sure plans can be changed. This wedding is gonna be a great trip, and wouldn’t you two want to spend spring break together?”

The question sat in the air for only the briefest of moments. 

“Yes, I’d love to come,” You blurted because it felt easier to say yes in this moment instead of continuing to try to decline the offer since Steve’s mom was seemingly not taking that for an answer. You still had no idea where exactly this wedding even was, and you decided that that would be the first thing you’d ask Steve once you two were back in his car. “If you’re sure it’s not really short notice.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Tom and I will handle everything. We just need to get you a flight. You can obviously stay with Steve in the room that’s already been booked for him at the resort.”

Hearing the mention of a resort should’ve helped you narrow down the potential places this wedding was set to be, but it only further confused you. However, you smiled and hoped that masked all of your bewilderment right then. “Sounds great. Thank you so much.”

You looked away from Anne and your eyes met Steve’s just for a second. It was the briefest look shared between you two that said everything and nothing all at once. And then you were looking away and finishing what was barely left on your plate so that this night could end sooner rather than later— before you somehow accidentally agreed to spend Thanksgiving with them in nine months.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“I’ll try to get you out of this stupid wedding thing,” Was the first thing Steve said to you when you two finally left his house and got into his car. 

You’d barely known his mom for two hours, but the thought of that actually happening felt pretty impossible to you.   

“Do you really think that you can make that happen?”

He sighed. “Probably not.” 

“It’s not that big of a deal,” You told him, and you were honestly surprised that you were able to be so normal about this because it actually was a bit of a “big deal.” And then you realized that you were attempting to convince yourself that this was fine as much as you were trying to convince him. “We can change the rules a little and just end things once spring break is over instead of when we originally planned to end it. What’s two extra weeks? Unless you’re already sick of me and are counting down the days until all of this is over.” 

Steve didn’t say anything in response, but he did quickly glance at you, giving you the most deadpan look you’d probably ever seen. Which only made you laugh until you remembered something.

“Where is this wedding even gonna be?” 

“Mexico.”

“I guess I’d be an idiot if I gave up a free trip to Mexico.”

“You’re underestimating how annoyingly intense my family is. This isn’t going to feel like a vacation.”

“Cool, great, now I’m a little scared,” You said, only slightly joking with your words. “But, it’ll be fine, and this will just further prove to your parents how “serious” we are.”

After a second, seemingly processing your words, Steve nodded. “Yeah, that’s true.”

It started raining then— soft pelts hitting against the windshield and the wipers turning on automatically— which felt like a sign of something, but you had no idea what. 

“I also don’t have to go if you don’t want me to,” You said, and things probably would’ve been a lot easier if Steve just said exactly that and if things stayed exactly according to what you two had decided on a week ago.

“It’s not that. I just really think you’re gonna hate this whole thing.” 

“Tonight honestly wasn’t completely terrible,” You told him. “Stressful? Kinda, yeah. But, if the trip is pretty much just gonna be a repeat of this dinner, I can deal with that.” 

You hadn’t even processed what exactly you were signing up for— a weeklong trip in a different country with a guy and his family you didn’t know. It would hit you a lot later; mainly once you mentioned it to Robin, Vickie, and Talia, and then also Eddie. 

“Okay,” Steve said and you wished that you could actually see him right then because you felt as if there was a lot more being said with the simple word. But then you were realizing that even if it wasn’t dark and rainy and even if he was looking at you, you still probably wouldn’t be able to successfully read him. After all, you’d only known him for a little over a week. “Feel free to back out at any time, though.” 

“Got it,” You said, but you wondered if your mind would change and if you’d want to do that. “Why do you think she even wants me to come?” 

“She likes you.”

“Actually likes me or is pretending that she does?” 

“Honestly, I can’t really tell.”

The rain only got harder as Steve continued driving, which you were actually glad for because the sound of it helped drown out the silence that began to sit between you two and it made the quiet feel okay. But, that feeling was very short-lived because the random storm started making things entirely too complicated. 

“I can just take you home and bring your clothes some other time,” Steve suggested. The rain was pelting harshly against the windshield as the two of you sat in his car in the parking lot of his apartment building. 

“That would be great, but I can’t think of any sort of story that would make me coming home in completely different clothes make sense.”

Earlier, when Talia asked what you and Steve had planned for the night, you made the mistake of saying that you and him were going bowling— it was the first thing that came to your mind and you regretted it immediately but couldn’t find a way to backtrack. Because of that mess up, you knew that you couldn’t leave the apartment for the pretend bowling date in your “meeting the parents” outfit, so you changed at Steve’s place instead and your original clothes were still there.

“Also, we’re already here now, so I should just do it.” 

“Okay,” He said, but neither of you made any move to step out of his car, even though he had already turned it off. Somehow, it was silently agreed that you’d wait things out for a second longer, and maybe the skies would miraculously clear. 

“I still can’t believe that you said that we were going bowling.” 

“I have no idea why that was the first thing that came to my head.” 

“Are you any good at it?”

“Not at all,” You didn’t hesitate to answer. “But, skee-ball, on the other hand. That’s a completely different story.”

“Those two games are not similar at all.” 

“If you squint, they kind of are.”

“Barely.” 

“Shh, just let me have this one,” You said, and Steve let out a laugh as he held up his hands in mock surrender. 

Things became quiet for a moment and you both continued to listen to the rain, which didn’t seem as if it was letting up anytime soon. 

He turned to look at you. “Should we just make a run for it?”

You wanted to say no but decided against it when you realized that you two would probably be sitting in Steve’s car all night otherwise. “Yeah.”

There was no countdown, and instead, you both abruptly stepped out of the car and then ran the short distance to the entrance of Steve’s building, still getting soaked in the process. 

Once you were inside his apartment, you toed off your shoes by the front door before heading to Steve’s bathroom where you had left your clothes earlier. 

“You want a towel?” You heard his voice through the door and at first you were simply nodding as you started unbuttoning your dress before realizing that he obviously couldn’t see your answer. 

“Yes!” You opened the door a little bit and his arm poked through, gray towel in hand, and you grabbed it from him. “Thanks.”

When you emerged from the bathroom— changed back into your jeans and dark sweater— you saw Steve in the kitchen, leaning back against the small island and eyes on his phone. He was also out of his wet clothes and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. 

You walked over to the windows and noticed just how insane things still were outside. “It would be dumb to drive in that right now, right?” 

You kind of hoped that he would disagree with you, but he didn’t.

“Yeah, we can wait it out for a bit if you want.” 

“Okay.”

You found yourself on his couch and he joined you moments later, suggesting that you two watch something for the time being and you agreed because there wasn’t anything else to do. 

It was a moment that was objectively normal, probably one of the most normal things that you two could and had ever done with each other, but doing this wasn’t a part of the normal that you and Steve had created. 

Conversations with him came easy if you two were talking about this whole fake dating thing and the random details and tidbits that came along with it. If there wasn’t anything to say involving that, you two simply didn’t talk. Once again, the group project analogy felt even more valid at this moment. 

Steve started playing an episode from a random season of a show that you both had already seen before and didn’t mind rewatching until the rain calmed down. You were only ten minutes in when your phone started ringing in the back pocket of your jeans. 

You pulled it out and stood up from the couch, seeing Robin’s name on your screen. 

You walked back over to the windows, the rain still had not let up in the slightest, and then answered the call. “Hey.”

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“At Steve’s place,” You answered. “I’m gonna head home soon, though.”

“Don’t,” She said, and before you could ask why, she continued. “We just lost power here because of the storm so you should just stay at Steve’s for the night.” 

“Are you guys good there?”

“Yeah, we just lit a bunch of candles,” Robin told you and then laughed. “It’s feeling very witchy in here right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if Talia suggested doing a seance.” 

“Please don’t do that,” You immediately responded. “I’d rather not come back to a haunted apartment.” 

“I can’t make any promises. Talia can be very persuasive,” She said. “Anyway, see you tomorrow. Have fun, but not too much. And use protection!”

You groaned. “Robin.” 

“Bye!” She hung up before you could say anything else.

You pocketed your phone in your jeans again and started heading back over to the couch. 

“Everything okay?” Steve asked, turning to look at you. 

“Yeah, it was just Robin. She told me that the power just went out in the apartment,” You told him, and then you were in the middle of thinking about how to tell him that you needed to stay here for the night when there was a sudden crack of thunder and the power abruptly went out, leaving his apartment pitch black. “Wow, perfect timing.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick

[koshkamartell]

No One But Me

masterlist

previous

chapter warnings: unhinged! Joel, mentions of PSTD, nightmares, drugging, forced captivity, mention of pregnancy.

Beau Henley was on night patrol at the front gates of Jackson that night. He didn't enjoy the shift; it was boring and uneventful and seemed to stretch on forever, the minutes ticking by slower than molasses in winter time. Because he wasn't properly trained as a sniper shooter yet, he was posted on the inside of the gates on the ground more often than the lookout points, which were a hell of alot more exciting than pacing back and forth in the snow with the same unmoving view of the town.

Beau hated it but he couldn't argue with Tommy and Maria about the roster when he was still a junior ranger. Beau had to suck it up and pay his dues, do all the boring shit like check the inside perimetre and stand around during the tedious night shifts guarding the gate. There was so much more to keeping Jackson safe than just riding around on horseback with a loaded rifle like the heroes in the cowboy comics he used to read as a kid. It wasn't all fun and games and action, like the young generation seemed to think it was. There was protocol to follow and a heirchary of roles that had to be exercised, and unfortunately for Beau he was stuck at the bottom in the chain of command.

He couldn't wait to rise through the ranks. Once he had a few more accomplishments under his belt then he could patrol outside more often, which is what most junior rangers dreamed of. Beau loved the thrill that came with patrolling outside the community and the possibility of running into infected or raiders. He also loved the weight of a gun in his hands, how it was seen as a symbol of authority and power. He hadn't had the opportunity to shoot anyone yet but his finger itched to pull the trigger on his rifle. Goddamn, he couldn't wait for an excuse to blast someone's head off with a clean shot.

For now all Beau could do was try to stay out of trouble and demonstrate his potential as a patrolman who would one day take over from the likes of Joel, Troy and Tommy. He tried, but his hot headed nature and egotistical persona occasionally got him in the shit with his superiors. Beau could usually weasel his way out of someone's bad books with a manipulative, charming pretence of good manners and what seemed like sincere apologies. He knew just how much humility to exhibit before he started to look like a kiss ass. The older men could see how strong and eager he was and would let him off with a light warning. Women were easier, though. Beau found his golden boy good looks worked particularly well on women of all ages, so all he needed to do was flash a smile or do some bullshit gentleman thing like hold a door open for them and any grievance was forgotten.

Except when it came to that teasing bitch, Rhi. His cheeks still redden at the memory of Joel Miller reprimanding him for simply jesting with her. All Beau had been doing was showing off to his friends while shooting his shot, silly stuff that guys sometimes did when they were looking for a fuck and being egged on by their guy friends. It had been harmless. But whatever. One day he would rule this fucking town and he could have some glory for himself, including all the pussy he could dream of.

Beau stood at the checkpoint at the gates that night with a rolled cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth, idly fantasising about the latest girl he had flirted with at the Tipsy Bison. He was about to take a piss break when he spotted the black silhouette of a large figure on horseback approaching the check point. There looked to be a small cart attached to the horse as it clopped through the snow.

Now what the fuck do we have here?

Beau's eyes squinted curiously as the figure advanced, the features of their face shroud in shadows and unidentifiable from a distance. He took one last long suck on his cigarette and then tossed it on the ground by his boot.

"Whose that?" Beau called, smoke exhaling from the side of his mouth. The figure did not reply but continued to approach him, mysterious and forboding in its dark anonymity. He threw a quick glance at the guard at the lookout point at the top of the gate above him, who just shrugged in return. 

When the figure ontop of the horse finally came close enough for the lamplight to illuminate their face, Beau's mouth fell open in shock and confusion.

"Joel?"

Like an almighty general prepared to go to battle, Joel Miller looked formidable and tyrannical sat atop his horse, Tex. The greying curls of his hair were unruly and the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than usual, yet his orbs were steely and distant; he looked simultaneously exhausted and wired, a disconcerting combination that made Beau feel anxious.

Beau stuck out his chest and stood straight in an attempt to appear assertive, but he couldn't quite disguise the tinge of fear that came creeping into his voice when he spoke.

"Joel, uhm, sir. What can I--"

"Open the gate." Joel demanded simply without meeting Beau's eyes.

"What?" Beau was utterly bewildered by the situation. No one had ever passed through the gates alone or outside of the scheduled duties - it was unheard of and certainly an unprecedented occurance. He had no clue what to do but wondered just what the hell Joel was up to. "Where are you going? I mean, what are you doing? You aren't on patrol tonight. You can't just leave the town."

Joel's jaw ticked once before his head tipped down to glare down at Beau with icy hatred. Joel Miller was an intimidating man at the best of times but when he was displeased he appeared downright frightening; his eyes looked almost black and a dangerous energy radiated from his being, punctuated by a snarl on his lips and a flare of his nostrils. The single gaze from Joel made Beau made gulp involuntarily and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Open the gate." Joel commanded once more, gritting his teeth in aggravation. "Now."

"Joel, I mean sir, you gotta fill out the log book, you gotta record the reason you're leaving," Beau blabbered. "We can't just let anyone go out without permission--"

Without breaking eye contact Joel slowly reached into his coat pocket and produced his pistol. Beau's words immediately died in his throat at the sight of the weapon and when he heard the threatening clicking of the hammer being pulled back, his stomach clenched and his blood turned cold. Although Joel hadn't pointed the muzzle directly at him the warning was still loud and clear.

Whatever the fuck Joel had planned, there was no mistaking how serious he was. Beau held up his lightly trembling hands and nodded vigorously.

"Okay, okay, hold on, I'll tell them to let you out." His head snapped up to look to the guards at the top level of the wall above them. They were already peering down and intently watching the interaction, concerned yet not daring to aim their own guns at the infamous Joel Miller. Beau hurriedly signalled for them to open the gates.

The wooden infrastructure creaked laboriously as the massive fortress like entrance gradually unfurled. A sudden blast of frosty wind rushed through the gap, a prompt demonstration of just how unforgiving the fierce wilderness could be outside the commune. Only somebody crazy would go out in such conditions, Beau thought. If that was what Joel wanted to then he really is as fucking crazy as they say.

Steeling himself against the wind Beau folded his arms tightly around his chest and trekked backwards a few steps, giving a wide berth to Tex and the cart. Joel rode passed him without speaking a word, the pistol still held tightly in one of his gloved hands. Aside from the dim moonlight and twinkling stars in the sky the landscape beyond the walls was devoid of light. Beau watched silently as Joel departed through the gateway and out into the ominously black wilderness, the cart rolling behind Tex like a faithful old dog trailing after it's owner.

Beau stood frozen on the spot until the entrance to the outside world was folded back and sealed once more. He frowned and shook his head, not knowing what exactly to make of the surreal situatikn that had just occured. It had been like a dream, too peculiar for Beau to fully process. He was suspended in the trance like state until the uncomfortable throb in his groin reminded him that he needed to empty his bladder. He whirled around and marched over to a nearby bush tucked into the shadows along the gate.

"Fucking psycho," Beau muttered to himself.

If Joel Miller wanted to go outside Jackson in the middle of the night, who the fuck was he to stop him? And why should he? He hated Joel; why should he give a shit that the old man was going against community rules and acting like a crazy person? It wasn't any of his business, and so he wasn't about to sound off any emergency sirens.

Fuck the Millers.

The idea had been significantly less challenging to execute than Joel had originally thought. It had not been something he wanted to do so soon and with so little preparation, but he felt he had little choice right now. After the confrontation with Ellie had essentially shattered Joel's world, his ability to employ logic and critical thinking had been shattered, too. His main reasoning for surviving these years now despised him. There was no coming back from that. How could she ever forgive him? When she spat those cursed words at him, Joel's fight or flight had been activated and all he wanted to do was flee.

Leaving Jackson had just been a fanciful notion until now. A distant desire kept tucked at the back of Joel's mind that subconsciously spurred him to collect and stow away bits and pieces for the future venture. If he had more time to adequate prepare, he would have done so methodically to ensure the safest possible journey for you both. There were so many facets to consider for survival, after all.  But time was not on Joel's side; he didn't have as many supplies as he wished, but he had the basic neccessities and they would have to suffice. You would have to learn to get by.

He had been quite convincing in his explanation to you. He told you Ellie had blown up at him over something and then he had a panic attack, but things were okay and he just needed to go back home and rest. You seemed to understand, and even looked a little sympathetic. When you made your nightly cup of tea and left it to steep in the kitchen while you went to the bathroom to get ready for bed, Joel worked quickly.

He retrieved the sleeping pills from the box in the closet then returned to the kitchen. Using the handle of a carving knife he methodically crushed the pills into a powder, then swept the dust into his palm. He sprinkled the pile into your mug of tea and stirred it until completely dissolved.

You had no inkling of what Joel had done, not even when your eyelids started feeling heavy soon after finishing your drink. It wasn't long after that you slipped into a deep sleep on the couch. He had given you enough to be confident that you wouldn't rouse for several hours. You did not wake up when he carried you out of the house over his shoulder. You did not stir when he set you in the cart and bundled you with blankets and one of his coats.

You were dead to the world when Joel transported you both out of Jackson and away from everyone and everything you knew and loved.

The next morning Tommy Miller kissed Maria and his sons goodbye and walked out the front door of their home to begin his day of work. As he twisted the doorknob shut behind him he winced at the twinge of pain that was already leeching into the joints of his knuckles. With each passing season Tommy was becoming more aware of how old he was getting, how the weather and demanding physical work was impacting upon his body, how his tolerance for ineptitude was waning faster. But it was his two young children who gave him the strength to persist each day, it was their youthful innocence that motivated him to fulfil his role within the commune with a smile on his face.

Family was everything. And with that in mind, Tommy knew he had to be gentle talking with Joel today. He needed to be ready incase Joel needed his support and counsel after what happened with Ellie.

The brothers were scheduled together on the day patrol today. Whenever they were working alongside each other they met outside Tommy's house ten minutes prior to the shift and walked to the stables together. Tommy liked the unspoken routine and he suspected Joel did, too, and it seemed to help their relationship improve significantly over the past two years.

However, this morning was different. There was no sign of Joel waiting for him out the front of the house. Tommy turned his head to scan around up and down the street but could not find any sign of his brother. It was completely unlike Joel to be late or missing in action - his fastidious temperment made him pedantic about things like punctuality, and so for Joel to be missing this morning was strange.

It was strange. And it was worrying.

Tommy very quickly tried to rationalise Joel's absence, to calm the instant swoop of alarm that flashed through his gut. Perhaps Joel was sick and couldn't get up out of bed this morning? Maybe he had a late night and didn't wake up in time and was on his way right this second?

Tommy desperately wanted to believe in the actuality of these reasons, even the possibility of them, but deep down he knew they weren't going to be true. He could feel the growing spiral of dread circling inside his stomach, urging him to trust his intuition that something was definitely not right, that Joel was infact in a great deal of trouble.

Tommy bolted into the street and took off in the direction of Joel's home.

When you woke up and opened your eyes, everything in your line of vision was completely blurred. It took a good minute for all the fuzzy shapes and pools of colour to become distinct objects as your eyes gradually adjusted to your surroundings. Laying on your back, the ceiling above you was the first thing you became conscious of. It was made of a darkened shade of wood, totally unfamiliar to you. Your gaze rolled around to see the surrounding walls, bare of any decorations or pictures, made of the same kind of timber.

This isn't Joel's house, and it definitely isn't your cottage.

With great effort you slowly sat up onto your elbows, your head leaden with the sedation of heavy sleep and your body devoid of strength. You registered the feeling of warm, soft flannelette sheets under your hands and realised you were laying ontop of a bed.

A stranger's bed.

Your unfocused gaze skitted around until your eyes settled on the outline of a man's figure across the room. He had his back to you as he crouched down infront of a fire place. Your heart skipped a beat with alarm, but through your foggy vision you quickly recognised the crown of soft greying curls, the colour of his favourite Carthartt jacket.

Joel.

You desperately wanted to speak, to somehow get his attention so he would look your way, but your mouth felt too dry, your throat so parched. You rolled your tongue over the roof of your mouth, the ridges of your palate rough with lack of saliva. You parted your lips but no sound came out. It seemed to take all your effort to get the signals between your brain and your mouth to work in conjunction with one another just to form a single word.

"Joel?" You were finally able to mumur, groggy.

You watched the figure remain in the same spot by the fireplace, his broad back still turned to you, unmoving. He must not have heard you.

You blinked with weighted deliberation, trying to fight against the overpowering tug of drowsiness that was beginning to coax you back to sleep. You opened your mouth again to try speak but it stayed shut, like your jaws were glued together and unable to open. Then your arms gave way and your elbows slipped so that you lay supine once more, your upper body too weighty for you to stay elevated. As soon as the back of your head hit the pillow you once again fell into a dreamless slumber.

Unfortunately for Tommy, his premonition had not been unfounded. When he barged into Joel's house he discovered neither you or Joel were there. The silence was deafening as he searched through the rooms on both levels, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

Fuck.

Tommy rushed to the stables. Tex's stall was empty. There was no sign of the horse in the paddock.

With his heart thundering in his chest and his stomach roiling with anxiety, Tommy sprinted from the stables toward the front gates. His mind was a cacophony of dread filled thoughts.

Joel's dead.

Joel's left.

But there's no fucking way, it's not possible, right? If Joel had left then somebody would have seen him, somebody would have stopped him.

When Tommy reached the check point at the front gate Beau was leaning over the log book, pencilling his signature and clock out time.

"Who was on last night?" Tommy yelled, striding up to him with his fists balled at his sides. "Who the fuck was on watch?"

Beau turned around to face him with a timid reluctance. "Uh, me, sir."

Tommy stood directly infront of Beau, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath and quell his anxiety all at the same time. "Did you see Joel walk through the gates?"

"Well...." He puffed up his cheeks and blew out a sigh of air, shrugging indifferently. "He wanted to go out. So yeah, Tommy, I did. I let him out."

Outraged, Tommy roughly grabbed Beau by the collar of his jacket and jerked him close to his face. Beau's eyes widened and he held his hands up in a surrender pose, suddenly made speechless by Tommy's aggression.

"And you didn't fuckin' tell anyone until just now?!" Tommy roared, his teeth bared.

Beau swallowed thickly and shook his head rapidly. The smug bravado he usually exhibits had totally vanished, all the arrogance drained from his body as the senior man chastised his spineless character. Tommy wanted nothing more than to punch the young man square in the face, but the urgency of the situation granted him the restraint to stop. He cannot get sidetracked, cannot waste precious time on a piece of shit like Beau when Joel has probably kidnapped you and skipped town. No, the penalty for Beau's mistake will have to be served after Tommy sorts all this shit out.

He let go of Beau's collar and shoved him backwards, his top lip curled in disgust.

"Gutless piece of shit," Tommy spat. "I'll deal with you later. Get the fuck out of here and don't say shit to anyone."

He had to find you.

Although the log cabin was not large and wouldn't take long to warm up, Joel tried to get a decent fire going as soon as he settled you into bed.

He stared at the small flames crackling in the fireplace before him, waiting patiently as the fire finally began to swell and engulf the logs sitting in the middle. He was eager to feel some kind of heat; his body was still stiff from the journey in the freezing cold and the ache in his bones radiated in tandem with the throb of the jagged scar on his abdomen. These physical ailments were bitter reminders of his age and shortcomings, of just how mortal he was.

Joel had endured the brunt of the harsh weather as he navigated his horse through the snowy night, with the harsh wind chapping his lips and smarting his eyes. He had made certain, however, that you had been insulated from the elements as well as possible, bundling your body up in a blanket and one of his thick jackets.

The journey here had not been too far from town, for the cabin was one of the checkpoints along the northern route Jackson patrol. It would serve as a halfway stopping point for you and Joel for half a day, just long enough for him to prepare some food and clean out the supplies there. Then you would be travelling further up the state to a bigger cabin, one Joel had discovered on the last raiders mission. The raiders had used it as their base and it had been well furnished and stocked. It would make an ideal home for the two of you, one where you were remote enough to not be disturbed.

Joel thought he heard you stir, that he heard the phantom echo of your voice say his name. He turned back to check on you but you were sound asleep on the bed, the features of your face lax as you rested. His mind must be playing tricks on him. He anticipated that the sleeping tablets would keep you knocked out for atleast another six hours. But the fatigue has started to seep in to Joel now, and the longer he stays awake the more sluggish his brain becomes, his movements slowing like a child's wind up toy.

He ascended carefully from his crouched position, his knees cracking and his back aching. He had to sleep before he passed out completely. Joel lumbered over to the bed and lowered his body down beside your sleeping form, the springs of the bed frame squeaking underneath his weight. The instantaneous relief flooded over him and he groaned loudly. He would rest just for a little, just enough to recharge.

Joel wrapped his arm around you and pulled you tightly into the crook of his arm before descending into a deep, dreamless sleep.

It had been a restless night for Oscar. Another night of vivid dreams and the harrowing retelling of Elvie's final moments, a jumble of vignettes and imagery that made him toss and turn and tangle in the bedsheets.

The last dream had been the worst. More often than not, the most distressing ones were the most simple and unembellished. Usually they began with Oscar searching the woods for Elvie, eventually finding her standing at the edge of a cliff top with her back to him. He calls her name and approaches her. Elvie turns to face him, her face streaked with tears and her large eyes anguished, her hands placed over the round globe of her pregnant stomach. She shakes her head gently and outstretches her arm to show Oscar the fresh wound in her skin.

Bitten.

Infected.

She was bitten after they escaped from a clicker just hours earlier. Understanding of just what Elvie is planning to do hits Oscar with torturous clarity. He lunges to her but he's a second too late, and she topples over the edge of the cliff.

Oscar jerks awake with a loud gasp of air rushing into his lungs. He immediately sits up, panting inbetween coughing and spluttering. He pounds on his chest with his fist to try clear away the choking sensation, and it is truly distressing just how prolonged the sense of terror; it floods throughout his whole being, making his brain race and his limbs shake.

Oscar gasps as he digs his palms into his eye sockets. He waits for his heart to stop thundering.

Oh, how he longs so desperately for a reprieve from the pain and the nightmares, from the yearning and despair.

A series of knocks hammering from the front door of his cottage pulls Oscar back to reality. He somehow manages to stumble out of bed and drag a sweater over his head before shuffling to answer the door.

Oscar is surprised to find Tommy standing on his porch. Before he can say a word Tommy begins explaining the situation.

"Joel's lost the plot, big time." Tommy sighs, shaking his head in dismay. "He's taken her and left. They left late last night."

The news hits Oscar with a force that makes his heart clench inside his chest; it's a crushing pain that squeezes his very soul. "Left? What the hell do you mean? Why would Joel do that?"

"Somethin' happened between him and his daughter. I ain't goin' into details but it hit him hard, so he's not thinkin' straight." Tommy explains calmly. He knows now isn't time to deal with indignation or rage - he need to get down to business and formulate a plan as soon as possible.

Oscar tries to process his words. There is no way you would have left Jackson on your own accord. This is your home for goddsake, where your entire life resides. Oscar pictures you being dragged through snow, whimpering and begging for Joel to let you stay.

The pain in his sternum morphs into a white hot rage that rips through his core. Tommy recognises the torrent of emotion dawning over Oscar, how his eyes blaze wide and accusing, his top lip curling with wrath.

"I know," Tommy assures him quickly but not unkindly, holding up his hands. "I only found out this mornin', otherwise I wouldn't be here - I'd be out there already."

"She would never leave Jackson," Oscar snaps. "Tommy we gotta go get her, right now, right this minute."

Tommy reaches out and plants a firm hand on his shoulder. "Oscar, I gotta come up with a plan first. Can't just hunt 'em down and demand they come back to Jackson."

Oscar exhales harshly through his nose, clearly on the verge of lashing out. "But she could be in danger, Tommy." 

"Joel ain't in a good state of mind right now. We gotta be careful." Tommy gives his shoulder a small squeeze, an imploring gesture that begs him for understanding. "The last thing I want is for her to get hurt, but we gotta do this the right way, or else it'll end up worse than this."

Oscar runs his fingers through his hair and sighs heavily. He knows Tommy is right; given Joel's history as a raider and a skilled hunter, this situation will require strategy and diplomacy, lest someone get injured or worse. Oscar cannot bear the thought of you caught in the middle of all this chaos. He cannot even allow himself to entertain the mere possibility of you getting hurt.

"I'm gettin' a group together to go find 'em. You sit tight here and I'll be back when I round everybody up." Tommy instructs Oscar. "We'll all go together. Get ready and be waitin'."

Tommy leaves Oscar's cottage with brisk, determined strides. Oscar watches him disappear down the street, most likely going to round up Troy first. It'll take some time to get a party ready, to equip themselves with rifles and horses and an official plan of action. More precious time wasted that could be finding you, Oscar surmises.

He can't waste any more time. He can't lose you. He may not have been able to save Elvie, but he was going to save you, even if it killed him.

Oscar dashes back to his room and scrambles to get dressed in his thickest, warmest clothes. He swipes his glasses off the night stand and shoves his feet into his boots. He can't be weighted down by anything more than what is essential, so he forgoes taking his sachet with him.

The only provision Oscar allows himself to carry is a pocket knife he managed to stow away from a patrol mission a long time ago. He tucks it in his jacket pocket at the last minute. His impulsively and urgency stops him from contemplating the actuality that he could run into danger; that the knife itself is a comparatively insufficient means of protection when the likes of clickers and bloaters could be roaming wild on the outside.

It doesn't matter. All that matters is finding you.

Oscar doesn't wait for Tommy to return. Ten minutes later he's saddled up on one of the horses and trotting through the front gates of the town.

••••••

The next time you wake up from the tranquilizing trance of the sleeping pills Joel slipped you, your brain is instantly more lucid and sharp and you are no longer groggy. When you sit up your vision is clear and you are able to fully process the reality around you this time - you are somewhere foreign to your usual surroundings but you are warm and uninjured. And Joel is with you.

You turn your head and see him sitting at a small wooden table near the fireplace this time. There is a disassembled pistol laying on the table top and in his hands is a rag. He's cleaning the pieces individually.

"Joel?" You speak croakily, grimacing at the dryness of your mouth. Joel glances up at you with no expression on his face; he says nothing before returning his attention back to the task before him. 

You swing your legs to the edge of the bed and rise to stand cautiously on your wobbly legs. "Where are we?"

He remains silent, still focused on the rag and the gun part in his hands. You watch him as he works the stained rag over the barrel and the muzzle for a minute, quietly observing his appearance; you note how tight and hunched his posture is, aswell as the dark circles under his eyes and the clenching and unclenching of his jaw. You have never seem him so on edge before.

"Joel, where are we and why are we here?" You repeat a little more firmly, your eyes fixed on his face.

"Cabin not too far from Jackson." He finally mutters.

You're outside of Jackson?

"W-why?" You gasp.

Joel abruptly stops cleaning the pistol and let's the part drop onto the table, the metal clattering loudly against the wooden top. You're startled by the sudden movement and automatically scoot back on the bed away from him, bracing yourself for an impending slap or harsh word. Yet nothing happens to you; Joel stays seated, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, his eyes screwed shut like he's in pain. You watch on as he exhales loudly and shakes his head, as if he's fighting off an unpleasant memory that's plaguing him.

"Ellie hates me," Joel confesses, his gravelly voice sounding thick in his throat. "I did somethin' bad. I...I hurt alotta people to save her. And now she found out and she won't ever forgive me."

The memory of Joel's panic attack from last night promptly comes flooding back to you. It makes sense that he would catastrophise an argument with Ellie, considering just how deepp he loves her. He must have needed some space away from where she was to get himself together mentally.

"Okay...," you speak hesitantly. "Why don't you just give her some time to cool down and then talk to her? I'm sure it'll blow over."

Joel's eyes flicker open but he doesn't look at you. He runs his hand over his mouth and sighs heavily. "It won't."

You sigh and shake your head a little, uncertain how to comfort him any further. You privately vow you would try your best to help mend their relationship once you get back to Jackson.

"When are we going back?" You ask, looking around the cozy cabin. "And why don't I remember getting here?"

Joel is quiet and unmoving, almost like a statue save for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. The longer the silence between you continues, the more aware you become of the sickening sense of tredipation beginning to simmer in your gut. Something isn't right. Something bad is happening.

"Joel!" You cry with exasperation. "Tell me!"

"We ain't goin' back." Joel replies lowly, his brown eyes finally rolling up to stare at you.

"What? Why?"

"We can't live there anymore." Joel says softly. "There's nothin' there for us. 'S best we just make our own life somewhere else."

Somewhere else? Where else was there? Your understanding of the world outside Jackson was very limited, but you knew what awaited outside the safety of the community; desolate place, vast and perilous, filled with monstrous beings and devoid of anything resembling purity or joy.

And that's where Joel had taken you. Away from everything and everyone you ever loved, away from safety and comfort and happiness. You would never see your friends again. You would never step foot in your cottage again. You would never see Oscar again.

Your heart races. The walls are closing in on you as the reality of the situation sinks in. Your lungs feel tight and constricted and you struggle to breathe.

"I love you," Joel confesses, his voice thick with tears, his eyes piercing into yours. "I couldn't leave you there. I can't do this without you. We can have a good life out here, I promise, I'll keep you safe. We won't have anyone else interferrin'."

You shake your head frantically, tears of terror starting to well in your eyes. "No, no, no! This is insane! I want to go back!"

You try to run but your legs are so weak and your head is still swimming; your limbs and brain aren't yet coordinated enough to allow you to move nimbly. When you stumble Joel anticipates your move and is by your side in a flash. Before you hit the ground he wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you tight against his body. You sag into his belly and begin to sob helplessly.

"I can't, Joel, please don't do this to me," you wail with your face buried in his chest.

Joel holds you against his front and nuzzles his nose into the hair ontop of your head. "You're all I got left. I'll take care of you, I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Something in his words spark a flame of anger from your very core. After all the abuse and hurt Joel's made you suffer through, the promise he speaks at this moment sounds nothing but a poisonous lie. A sweet, hope filled vow of love that inevitably eventuates into a punishing battle for domination and forced submission. That is all you and Joel will ever have. For the rest of your life, he will hold power over you until he breaks you down irrevocably, with no family or friends anywhere around you.

You cannot allow him to do this to you.

You need to escape.

You covertly peek out the corner of your eye to spy the front door. It's the only way to enter and exit the cabin. It's your only way out.

And it's now or never.

You suddenly shove against Joel's chest with all your might and rip yourself out of his embrace. Before he can grab you and pull you back, you pivot and make a run for the front dood. You grasp hold of the knob and haphazardly twist it back and forth until the door clicks open. You fling it wide and it crashes loudly against the exterior of the cabin, but you don't care how much commotion you make. You just need to run.

With your heart thumping in your chest you sprint into the open like a hare on the loose. It is freezing outside the warm cocoon of the cabin and the pinching shock of the snow on the bottom of your bare feet makes you hiss, but you push onward.

Your frantic eyes dart around the environment - you are somewhere within a forest and you can see nothing but snow and trees. You have no clue in which direction to run, but you instinctively launch straight ahead.

For a fleeting second there is a swell of triumphant energy powering you. You can do this.

You can be free.

Then it all comes abruptly crashing down; you trip over your own foot and collapse face first onto the ground with a harsh smack. You squeal in pain when your chin connects to the floor of the forest and the skin of your knees and hands scrape against the icy snow.

Joel is on you within a matter of seconds. "Fuckin' hell," he grumbles to himself. His strong, rough hands grip your arms and haul you back up to your feet. He seems to exert little to no effort corralling you back inside the cabin, dragging you like a scolded kitten being carried by the scruff of its neck.

He shoves you to the ground and slams the door shut firmly behind him. You fall onto the floor on your ass with a thud.

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Joel roars as he glares down at you.

"I'm not staying here with you!" You yell defiantly, glowering up at him from where you are sprawled on the floor.

"You got no fuckin' choice!" His baritone voice booms back at you. "You ain't never been outside Jackson since you got there! You really think you could survive by yourself? Think you could out run infected or a band of raiders?"

Joel is right. You have never shot a gun. You would have no idea how to fight for your survival, whether it be against infected or the weather or another person.

You have never stepped foot outside the gates as an adult, had never even been on patrol before. It wasn't in your personality to want to explore or venture; you had always been too soft, too traumatised as a child yet too sheltered as an adult to even want to brave the outside.

You had never been a great candidate to be a ranger physically, anyway - your body is weak and soft from lack of proper nutrition and disordered eating, unable to defend or attack. You were just one of the many shelteted residents of Jackson that were kept safe by those more powerful and capable than you, like feeble lambs watched over vigilantly by shepards at all times. Except now you felt like a lamb tricked and led astray from the security of your flock by a cunning and blood thirsty wolf.

"I want to go back, Joel." You sob pathetically. "I don't want to be here!"

"Well congratulations, because we ain't fuckin' stayin'!" Joel shouts back, the dimple in his cheek flexing.

You flinch and bow your head, letting the sudden pool of tears cascade from over the rim of your eyes and down your cheeks. You swipe at your running nose with the sleeve of your sweater and listen to Joel's boots thunder over the floorboards as he strides over to a rucksack by the fireplace. He crouches down to retrieve something from inside it.

"Don't wanna hear another fuckin' word out of you," Joel snarls. "So I'm gonna make sure you don't try anythin' stupid like that again."

When he stands up straight again and stalks back over to you, you begin to shake with wracking sobs. He towers before you, his dark brown eyes ablaze with fury as he starts unwinding a long length of rope between his two hands.

You can't save yourself this time.

You can't fight this.

You are going to need a saviour.

taglist - @sofiparallel @harriedandharassed @kewwrites @romanarose @fan-fiction-floozy @anoverwhelmingdin @unknownsuser101 @shesarealcarpentersdream @sheeeeeppp-blog @uncassettodiricordi @axshadows @puduvallee @gossipgirl-03 @mandoloriancookie @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff @missannfairy @bean-security @missannwinchester @mrszdjarin

[luvyeni]

SEX FASHION AND GUITARS — chapter 9. five minutes until show time !

𐙚 pairings. rockstar!jaemin x stylist!reader

synopsis. l/n y/n fashion major and photographer on the side who says what she wants, na jaemin music major and lead guitar player for underground band DREAM. After yn forgets her to change her account and says something that catches the eye of jaemin she tries to ignore him — expect thanks to chenle she now works for them.

word count. 1005 words

"im here." you dragged the suitcases containing the outfits into the dressing , winter and sieun behind you holding all your extra tools. "yn they're naked." sieun said disgustingly , her face turned up. "because you have their clothes , and you're also late." chenle said. "i said get here early." he scolded.

"i know , i know , but i had a extra class i forgot about and then winter had a shift , im here now , plus its only 8:30 , the show doesn't start until 9:15." you said , pulling out all the freshly steamed outfits. "i steamed them during class." you smiled proudly. "hi guys." you finally acknowledged the half naked boys. "now let's get you boys dressed."

"okay , jeno you're good , jisoo and sieun will help you with hair and makeup." you said , he smiled. "thank you , it looks good yn , you're a beast." you laughed. "um thank you , i guess." you took a second break , waiting for the next member. "ynie." you cringed hearing the nickname. "im ready for my touch ups." haechan did a little pose. "im sure i already gave you one." you said, standing up. "im starting to think you just like when i'm touching you." you teased. "i do." he wiggled his eye brows. "can you both do that later , we're late and jaemin is missing." chenle rushed in.

"he always is , did you check a storage closet?" jisung said , handing out the microphones. "go a head , i'll make sure he get on stage in time." you said. "please hurry and find him , we have ten minutes." chenle said. "i will now go." you said , pushing them all out the door. "you all look good , i'll see you out there." you cheered. "don't worry."

it's not like you wanted to find the boy tucked away in a storage closet — doing god knows what , with god knows who , but you didn't want chenle and jisung to be anymore upset , so here you were , knocking and opening every closet in the small venue for the man. "jaemin." you shouted , his microphone in your hand. "where the hell are you?"

"you looking for me." you damn near jumped out of your pants. "jesus jaemin." you sighed. "where the hell were you." you said , looking at his disheveled look. "where does it look like princess?" he smirked. "disgusting." you muttered. "just come , chenle isn't gonna yell at me , cause you can't keep you dick in your pants." you tugged at his belt loop. "you jealous?" you scoffed. "why would i?"

"that's right, you do have haechan , right?" he said. "you seem obsessed with him." you bit back , he dryly laughed. "if you say so princess." you reached up , putting his mic on — he grabbed your wrist. "you two aren't exclusive right?" he was closer now , your noses almost touching. "that means i can do what I want to you." he whispered. "right?" you realized how secluded the place you were was.

he smirked realizing how flustered you were. "cat got your tongue princess." you pushed your hand in front of you preventing his chest from touching yours. "we still have 5 minutes left." his hands left your wrist , grabbing your belt loop. "i could still do some much in those five minutes."

you finally came to , realizing what you were here for. "yo-you have to go on stage." you said. "so will i see you after the show then? or are you leaving with him?" you were silent , he took that as your answer , smirking. "i guess next time." he said. "let's go before they think we're doing something." he finally stepped back , giving you room to finally breathe.

"fucking finally , i thought i would have to send a search party for both of you." chenle said. "where the hell were you?" you struggled to find words. "i was having trouble with my pants and she was helping , don't worry , im here now." jaemin said. "yeah two minutes late, the guys are already on stage , go." he pushed the boy. "and you." he turned to you. "winter and sieun are over there with jisung , let's go." you nodded , about to walk away , when he grabbed your hand stopping you. "yes?" he scoffed , smiling. "you think im stupid , something wrong with his belt."

"we didn't do anything , i promise." you said. "i didn't say you did , im just saying if you do , find a better lie , than his belt." he said. "and not 10 minutes before i show when i send you to look for him."

the show was amazing and the guys did well , the five of you clapping for them as they said their goodbyes , exiting the stage to the back where you guys greeted them. "you guys did great!"

"did you see me?" haechan came straight to you. "yes i did , you did good." you praised , his arms coming around your waist. "let's get out of here and go back to mines." he said. "jesus , you still have energy?" he sheepishly smiled. "jesus , just go , no one wants to see that." renjun said. "or at least go to a bathroom."

"let's go." you waved to everyone. "i'll leave the door unlocked." sieun said. "okay." you nodded. "bye everyone, good show." you took haechan by the hand, walking towards the front. "leaving?" jaemin stopped both of you. "yeah." you noticed the girl standing next to him. "have fun." he wrapped his arm around the girls shoulder. "jaemin let's go." she whined. "come hyuck." he nodded following behind you. "have fun." you looked at him , he smirked watching you walk away.

"what was that all about?" haechan said. "you and jaemin?" you turned to him. "nothing , why you jealous?" you teased , he scoffed. "no you're free to do who and whatever you want , just let me know if you do do some with him."

"why you gonna stop this with me?"

"i don't share , especially with jaemin , but i will say i will miss fucking you into the mattress."

"good thing i haven't done anything with him yet , you still can do that."

"oh trust me i am."

previous - masterlist - next

TAGLIST (CLOSED). @nominsgirl @haechansbbg @axo-l0tl @darlingz99 @hollxe1 @lostinneocity @lovebuglissas @stars4yulia @syzavxy @kgyam4 @trashx678 @jarrofkookie @fae-renjun @thisisnotjancita@irinayobitch@cloudmrk @chenlesfeetpic@iheartjayke @foxy-kitsune @kriizztin @bugcattie

©️LUVYENI

[ladykailitha]

Not All That Glitters is Gold Part 3

Happy New Year to all those that celebrate on Jan 1st! I didn't get as much writing done as I wanted during my break because my son brought home the flu and I've been sick for most of the winter break.

That said, I still have a backlog of at least a dozen chapters spread out among my WIPs.

I will still be posting Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursday just nothing will have a set day. Meaning you might get this story on a Tuesday one week, and Thursday the next. So on and so forth.

In this chapter I get heavily into gender dynamics and how sexuality would work with second genders.

Part 1 Part 2

***

Steve slid into bed with a sigh of relief. His scent permeated the bedding sending out a calming signal to both him and the alpha. He wrapped himself around the alpha and felt as he began to come out of the tranquilizer.

Dillon hummed happily. “You smell good.”

Steve chirped in response, rubbing his nose on Dillon’s scent gland. Again he sighed in relief. The actor’s scent was coming through. Weakly, but it was there. It was a dark woody scent. Like a forest after the rain.

“I’m going to take care of you, alpha,” Steve purred. “Make you feel so good.”

Dillon pounced on him and he laughed. “So eager. Take it slow, you’ve got plenty of time, sweetie.”

Steve ran his fingers up and down Dillon’s spine, causing the man to arch into his touch.

“Does that feel good?”

Dillon nodded, biting his lip.

“You don’t have to keep quiet, alpha,” Steve murmured. “No one is here to hear you but me.”

Dillon hung his head. “You don’t mind if make noise?”

Steve kissed his nose. “Did they make you keep quiet when they forced you to have sex with other alphas?”

He nodded, tears streaming down his face.

“Don’t worry,” Steve said. “You’re safe here. No one knows this address outside of Starcourt Services.”

Dillon closed his eyes and let Steve take care of him.

Over the course of the next three days, Steve found out that Dillon’s guilty pleasure was fruit leather. Not the overly processed kids stuff, but the locally sourced fruit snacks.

Steve practically cheered. It wasn’t protein bars, but it was something. He also found that Dillon would drink the shakes if Steve gave them to him, but wouldn’t chose them on his own.

By the time Dillon’s rut was over, Steve had really gotten to know him and was a little sad to see him go.

He wasn’t even told where Dillon would be going, but he knew it was for the best.

Steve showered and was dressed before Robin came back.

“Thankfully his rut didn’t last too long,” she said pulling up his schedule on his tablet, “you’ll have two days to do whatever before the charity ball for the New Yorker.”

Steve sighed in relief. “Thank god for that. First ruts are so hard.”

Robin nodded. “And it’s so rare for Starcourt to do them at all with the whole legality of it usually being alpha usually being fourteen to seventeen years old when they get their first.”

Steve sighed. “That too.”

Robin got a notification on her phone. When she checked it, she laughed.

“I just got something to absolutely make your day,” she said with a giggle.

Steve raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Tommy’s last rut servicing hit him with a mini-heat. He’s out of the game for the gala.”

Steve winced in sympathy. “Better him than me.”

Robin laughed again. “That’s why you have me, babe. If the alpha has a history of blocker breaking, they have to do a lot to convince me to let you service them. Starcourt has a perfect record of whisking away omegas that have gone into a heat as a side effect of the servicing, but I’m not willing to take that chance with you.”

“And that’s why all the other omegas are jealous you’re my handler,” Steve grinned.

“Damn straight.”

They high-fived.

“So what are your plans for today?” Robin asked, putting away her phone.

“Pedro is coming in today for a final fitting for the tux,” he told her and she added it to his schedule.

“I’ll find out the exact time and get back to you,” she said.

“Then I’m having dinner with Max and Lucas,” Steve continued. “They just got into town this morning and wanted to meet up while they had time.”

“How goes Lucas’s law suit?” Robin asked, adding it to the schedule.

“They think it’s about to burst the NBA wide open,” Steve said with a devilish grin.

She grinned back. “It’s absolutely ridiculous to have six different sports leagues.”

Steve nodded. “Even the division between beta teams is dumb. But they’re working on one problem at a time. Get it down to two and then work on destroying first gender bullshittery.”

Robin nodded. “It’s especially stupid because that’s how it is handled in high school. If schools can handle the raging hormones of presenting athletes then professional teams can handle level headed adults on scent suppressants.”

Steve nodded back. “That’s their argument.”

“Good luck to them.”

“And then I plan on doing some shopping,” Steve finished. “Dillon’s rut depleted my stock more than I would have liked.”

Robin winched. “Well, at least your next servicing isn’t until the end of next week.”

He nodded again. “I’ve been messaging the alpha couple, they seem sweet.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “I am so grateful to be a lesbian to first and secondary genders.”

“There are so many sexualities these days it can make one’s head spin,” he lamented. “Are you an alpha that likes alphas but only alphas of the opposite sex and does that make you straight or gay?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I simplified it to ‘no dicks’, but I know it’s more nuanced than that for a lot of people.”

Steve scoffed. “Like me?” he huffed, flopping on the sofa and crossing his arms. “Bisexual first gender, but I’ve never been attracted to other omegas, so straight secondary gender. And there are a lot of people that would say I’m not queer because I prefer alphas.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “And I swear it’s getting worse with non-binary and trans people added to the mix, too. And of course the rest of the queer community is thinking they’re safe from the hoopla, when we all know these ass clowns won’t be happy until they’re back to one man and one woman betas.”

“Which has never been a thing,” Steve grumbled. “It’s ridiculous.”

She tapped her tablet. “Anything else?”

He shook his head. “Just when Pedro is coming and my day is set.”

She shot off a quick text and got an immediate response. “He says at eleven. Is that okay?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah, that’ll be fine. Gives me time to shop before dinner.”

“Done and dusted,” she said, putting away her phone and tablet. “We still on for platonic soulmate day tomorrow?”

He grinned up at her. “Always. We’re going to binge movies and eat junk food and lament about our love lives all day.”

“I’ll bring over some wine coolers and stuff to make cocktails,” she said.

He hopped up and gave her kiss on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

“Have fun with Max and Lucas,” Robin said. “Give them my love.”

“Will do.”

*

Max looked around the fancy restaurant in awe. “I can’t believe you can just walk into a place like this and you instantly get a table.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “It’s not that easy. They had a cancellation and was able to get us in.”

“I bet they canceled the other reservation to give it to you,” Lucas said.

“Ooh...” Max said. “I bet they did, too. Steve Harrington, omega escort to the stars wants a dinner reservation at our restaurant, lets boot some D-list actor so we can have him instead.”

Steve laughed again. “Really, guys. It’s not like that. I’m not some Lonnie Hansen or Roxie, I’m barely a middle of the road escort as far as how much money I make.”

Max and Lucas shared a glance before they broke out laughing.

“Guys!” Steve protested. “I’m serious. There are other escorts that make way more than me.”

Max raised her eyebrow. “Name five other than Lonnie and Roxie.”

Steve counted them out on his fingers. “There’s Nicole Jawara. Koo Sing Ma. Mirabel Diaz. Uh...” He tapped his third finger. “Um...”

“Admit it,” Lucas said. “You can’t think of any more. And the ones you have named? They’ve all been in the business for longer than you and have had time to be higher paid. You rose through the ranks like a shooting star and everyone knows it.”

Steve blushed. “Yeah, okay. I love doing what I do, though.”

“Which is why we’re fighting the NBA about Lucas’s secondary gender. He should be allowed to play in the national league regardless whether he’s an omega or not,” Max said. “As an alpha I can do whatever the hell I want and only mildly looked down on because I’m a woman. But being a male omega makes it hard to do anything outside nurturing jobs.”

“Which I’ve never got,” Steve growled. “They don’t force female omegas into those jobs, just male ones.”

Lucas sighed. “Add to it being black and I’ve been fighting an uphill battle my whole life.”

Steve nodded sympathetically. “Tell me what else is up with you two. Any chance of bonding on the horizon.”

Max scoffed. “As if. We want to get this suit over with first. Then we’ll talk.”

“What about you?” Lucas asked. “Surely there have been alphas that have offered to buy your contract. You could settle down with one. Adopt pups.”

Steve ducked his head. “I’ve had offers. But as...” he huffed trying to find the right word. “Concubines? Sex toys for when their mates are pregnant or nursing. Not actual relationships.”

Max snorted. “I bet Nancy Wheeler tried.”

“Twice,” Steve agreed. “The only thing that would lure me from my job is falling in love with an alpha. And the chances of that happening are slim to none right now.”

Lucas sighed. “It’s because anyone you do meet is just going to want sex, huh?”

Steve nodded. “It’s really frustrating. But that’s why most of my friends are from before I became an escort. It’s just too hard to trust someone now a days. People wanting to be friends only want it for the perks,” he waved around him, “and not because they actually like me. People who want a ‘romantic’ relationship are one of three categories: only in for the sex. Only in for the sex and all the perks that come with being me. Or they want to shame and control me.”

Max and Lucas share a glance and have the decency to look mildly chastised. Because, yeah they used the perks of Steve’s job on more than one occasion.

Steve sighed. “So have you guys seen the latest superhero movie?” he asked, eager to move on.

Max and Lucas took it as the life line it was and starting chatting about what movies they’ve seen.

*

Steve loved his days were it was just him and Robin sans Starcourt business. Where they could just be two lovable goofballs and talk about their love life.

“Vickie is an omega, Steve,” she whined, ripping into her gallon sized bucket of Red Vines. “She’s not going to want to be with someone who can’t help her during her heats.”

Steve scoffed. “I’ve never had an alpha service my heats, and I’m fine. If she cares about you, she’ll use toys and heat aids. And don’t discount the pleasure of your fingers, babe.”

Robin made a gagging sound. “Don’t talk to me about sex, dingus. I don’t think I can handle it.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “It’s literally my job, Robs. Like you can blow me off all you want, but you know you’re not going to get better advice from someone outside the medical field.”

“I hate it when you’re right,” she sighed.

“So you’ll ask her out this weekend?” Steve pressed.

“Yes, Steve,” Robin said, rolling her eyes “while you’re out there looking gorgeous on the arm of Nancy Wheeler, schmoozing it up with the rich people, I will be putting my heart on the line to ask a really cute girl out on a date.”

He kissed her cheek and stayed in her space. “And then when she says yes and you two are making out on her sofa, spare a thought for your poor single platonic soulmate who was soooo right.”

Robin pushed him away from her. “God, you are such an ass.”

“Yes, but it has been praised by many an alpha,” he teased, “so I love flaunting it.”

Robin threw her Red Vine at him.

He took a huge bite out of it and then grimaced. “I don’t’ know how you can stand eating these things. I think they taste like soap.”

“Just because your tastebuds are out of wack,” Robin said, snatching it away from him and munching on it, “doesn’t mean the rest of us should be forced to eat those tasteless sticks called Twizzlers.”

Steve pouted. “But I like the chocolate ones.”

“Further proof of your lack of taste, dingus,” she said. “It just means that this,” she held up her bucket, “is all mine.”

He just shook his head and grabbed the remote. “It’s a vampire romance, you ready for this?”

“Hell yeah!”

***

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

The Red Vine vs Twizzler debate was something that me and my best friend argued for years. And yes there was a period of time when Red Vines tasted like soap. They don't anymore, thankfully. But they did.

The TV show they are watching is "The Scholar That Walks By Night" a Korean drama my sister is obsessed with.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @lingeringmirth @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian @slowandsteddie @mangoinacan13

[thedgeoftheuniverse]

and i believe (because i can see) | post-outbreak!joel x f!reader

prologue — where we find ourselves

He told him how he thought that dog was going to rip her to shreds, and the only thing he could do was stand frozen in place because he’s not the man he used to be, no longer a ruthless killer who could have taken anyone and anything down in his path—he needed Tommy to understand that part. He needed Tommy to know that the only piece left of the man he once knew was the weak, aching flesh and bones sitting in front of him. He was no more capable of taking care of Ellie than he was of Sarah, but he was staring at him as though he were lying.

[ WARNINGS/TAGS ] loss of a child, angst, enemies to friends to lovers, grumpy!joel, angst, eventual smut (minors DNI!!), slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, joel miller desperately needs a good therapist and an even better hug, no use of y/n, no physical description of or named reader, shifting pov (see individual parts for warnings per chapter. please let me know if i miss anything. if any of these tags are triggering/upsetting/harmful to your wellbeing in any way, please do NOT interact.)

Winter came suddenly.

The summer had seemed to eternally endure, the heat from the sun leaving you drenched in sweat and with a constant sunburn across the bridge of your nose. The long days of trudging through woods and down back roads left your body hopelessly sapped of all energy and grotesquely deprived of proper hydration. A thin sheen of sweat seemed to permanently coat your body, leaving you feeling sticky and terribly uncomfortable; you had no intentions of concealing your discomfort, opting instead for—as your traveling companion charmingly described—incessant bitching. You've always found peace in the swaying of treetops and the warmth of the sun on your cheeks, but this was extreme, even by your standards. Nevertheless, the everlasting summer faded, as it always does, into an autumn that seemed to only last for a week or two, much to your disappointment.

Fall was stunning; a magnificent sea of yellows, oranges, and reds decorated canopies of trees, eventually falling and littering the ground and making a satisfying crunch underfoot. But then, as it always does, the fleeting autumn gave way to the bitterness of winter. A piece of you thought it came faster this year, as if the Earth was beginning to realize how far back it had fallen and desperately hoped that it could speed along the passage of time to correct some kind of miscalculation—a foolish notion. Nevertheless, you soaked up the fleeting weeks of fall with gratitude before you soured over winter. The harsh weather nestled into your bones, stiffening your joints and drying your skin—your knuckles remained almost permanently cracked and split during winter, regardless of gloves or warm evening fires. Perhaps there was a morbid beauty to the desolation of it all or a metaphor that would bring you some form of understanding for the misery you've endured. 

For the moment, though, you were just freezing.

The small campfire you huddled in front of did little to warm your freezing body; the cold, having seeped well into your skin, stiffened your joints and tinted your fingernails with a purple-ish hue.

“Need to find you a new jacket.” Joel’s voice breaking through the silent night momentarily startled you. You looked at your coat with a huff and recalled the events from that same morning—your once warm, tastefully worn coat now decorated with a large tear down your left arm. Had it not been for the thick material shielding you from the maw of that Clicker, you would likely have already turned or been shot by him.

“Not before you get some new boots, old man.” You lazily motioned towards his shoes, raising an eyebrow as he began his nightly task of taping rubber to leather.

“Funny.” He clearly was not amused. “I’m serious. You're gonna freeze to death.”

“Well, if you can find one out here,” you gestured to the expansive forest surrounding you, “then be my guest.” He rolled his eyes at you, though with less disdain than he used to; if anything, it was affectionate. “You could share some of that whiskey if you don't want me so cold.” He passed the tarnished silver flask to you with another roll of his eyes, and you took a swig of the smokey, bitter liquid. It was far from high quality; in fact, it was hardly drinkable, but it succeeded in filling your gut with a fuzzy warmth that spread through your body after another sip.

You noticed Joel staring at Ellie with a fearful glint in his eyes as she stood atop a rather large boulder, staring at green lights illuminating the sky. He was about to say something; you could only guess it was going to be an attempt to get her back on the ground. “Give her another minute. Who knows when she'll see it again?" He paused, looking as though he still wanted to say something. You could practically feel the anxiety radiating from his body. You knew he would deny it until the bitter end, but he worried for Ellie as if she were his own child; however reluctantly their relationship started, he’s wrapped around her little fingers, even if he hadn’t caught onto the fact. A part of you wished he had developed similar affections for you, but Joel seemed to have come to only tolerate you. Sure, he was not half as surly or aggressive towards you as when you first met—you were shocked he did not kill you on the spot, considering your previous affiliations—and he would engage in lighthearted conversation, but you sensed an underlying disdain.

The longer you traveled with him, the more it made your heart ache.

This was not part of the plan.

A high-pitched whistle broke your thoughts, followed by his gruff command: “Come on down from there. You’re gonna break your neck.” Reluctantly and with a hefty sigh, Ellie made her way from the rock after sparing a final, unobscured glance at the sky.

The rest of the evening passed in mostly amusing conversation. You chose not to participate, though you intently listened. You saw how Joel tensed up when Ellie asked what they—no, he—would do after the cure; it was a question that, until less than a year ago, was wholly absurd and could never be answered. His answer was not surprising. You never expected Joel to be the kind of man with ambitions of settling down with someone, living in a big city, or pursuing anything more than a life of solitude. The sheep, however, made you giggle to yourself, and he shot you an unserious glare in response. You also saw the way Ellie’s face lit up as she talked about space and “Sally Fuckin’ Ride” and the moon and stars, and the sadness (or was that guilt?) in Joel’s eyes when the conversation inevitably shifted to the loss of Henry and Sam, and how Ellie seemed to somehow feel responsible. It wasn’t long after that that she decided it was time for bed. 

“Do you wanna take first watch or second?” 

Joel sighed. “I’ll do both.” 

“No, you won’t. I’ll take second.” You piped up. Something in Joel’s eyes told you he would not be waking you up for the second watch, a debate you would have to settle at a later date.

“Get some sleep. Dream of..." he trailed off for a moment. “Sheep ranches on the moon.”

/ / /

Joel, in fact, did not wake you up for second watch. Not because Joel himself took both first and second, but because he fell asleep less than three hours into the night. He awoke from a fitful sleep with a start, distress seeping into his bones as he realized the sun had risen, he was asleep, and he did not know where Ellie or you were. He shot awake, his eyes glazed over with panic as he looked to you, still asleep on the ground, and then to Ellie, who was standing watch with the rifle that was much too big for her in her hands. An overwhelming feeling of guilt accompanied the anxiety in his gut—try as he might, he never seemed to stop failing. 

“Still mumbling in your sleep.” She observed. “I woke up early. You guys were passed out, so I took second watch.”

Joel’s words were rushed, betraying his normally stoic demeanor. “You gotta wake me up if that happens.” He slowly stood up, the unavoidable ache in his lower back and knees seemingly worse that morning, perhaps from walking the last hundred or so miles, or maybe it was the rock that dug into his back during the night. “You can’t do things like this.” He said, gently nudging his companion’s still sleeping body on the ground with his foot; his poor back would not be tolerating him leaning down to wake you with a gentle grazing of his fingers or nudge of your shoulder. He chose to ignore the fact that he always felt afraid to touch you—not because he thought you were fragile, but rather because you made him feel as though he was. Your skin made his hands feel like he was electrified, on fire, or frozen in place, and sometimes it was all three. Sometimes, he wished he had left you back in Boston, and sometimes he wished he had found you twenty years ago; on more rare occasions, he wished he had met you thirty years ago—when he was still whole and he was still alive, Joel Miller and Sarah were still alive, and he would’ve seen you as you were meant to be. Those thoughts never lasted for long, but they made his stomach turn nonetheless. 

"Uh, I can. I just did.” Joel had grown very familiar with the sarcastic smile she flashed at him.

“I’m responsible for you.” “She is too; don’t see her complaining.” His gaze flitted back down to you, barely awake and wholly confused by the situation at hand.

Joel took the rifle from Ellie, who was attempting to explain her precautions as she stood watch. “You wake me up next time.” “Yes, sir.” She responded.

That day started the same as each one for the last eight—was it closer to ten?—months had: a grueling trek across wooden terrain in what Joel hoped was the right direction, consistent sarcastic quips from Ellie, and your soothing presence at his side. It was a normal day, a normal fucking day, and he was mostly on course again, and everything was normal, normal, normal, and for the life of him, Joel could not fathom how he managed to find himself sitting in a bar drinking whiskey from a glass with his little brother. There were the horses and the dogs, and the all-consuming fear that Ellie was going to die and that you were going to die too; the knowledge that you would be after Ellie, and you would be lucky if the only thing these people did was kill you. Then he was hugging his brother for the first time in years, and everything felt fuzzy, and his stomach ached worse than his knees.

“Thanks for still giving a shit about me.” As if he ever stopped thinking about him. As if he hadn’t spent nearly a year in search of him. As if he were not the last thing of his old life that he had left, and he wouldn’t fight for that until the bitter end. And then he was asking about Tess (she’s good, she's fine), and it felt like a punch to the gut, and he was asking about Ellie (she’s the daughter of some Firefly muckety-muck). (There's a payment.) He could no longer breathe, and then he asked about you, and he was at a loss for words. What could he possibly say to justify you? Sure, your previous affiliations are what initially convinced him to bring you along, but he could have easily gotten what little information you had without trekking across the country with you. He could have left you at Bill and Frank’s or in Kansas City or in a random spot in the woods early in the morning; he did not have to take you with him. There was nothing in it for him; there was nothing to gain except another mouth to feed and the knowledge that you could have killed him in his sleep at any time you pleased. 

And then Joel was seeing red because, how dare he say that? 

How dare Tommy expect him to be happy when he was being handed the very thing that destroyed his life? He was there. He watched his niece scream and cry and bleed out as he pleaded for help; he was there after he tried to follow her into the unknown, and he was the one to clean the wound on his temple. He was there for it all, and then he left. How dare he sit back with his comfortable life, his house, and his family after Joel had lost everything? How could he sit there and judge him after he compromised every moral he thought he held near and dear to keep him alive? Sarah’s blood had not been washed from his hands before he committed what little was left of him to keeping his little brother safe. How dare Tommy find the life that Joel lost?

 He stormed out of the bar with that same goddamn feeling in his heart, and he thought he was going to die there for a moment—he had to have, at least for a second, because Sarah looked so real in that moment. The rest of that day passed in a blur. Joel found himself sitting in an old shed, the smell of wood and tools flooding his senses as he grew frustrated, fruitlessly trying to repair his tattered shoes.

 “The guys said I might find you here.” Somehow, seeing his face again, Joel could not bring himself to continue to stoke his anger towards his little brother, however fixed the scowl on his face was. “Figured you could use these.” An awkward silence filled the room from his lack of response, but what was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to tell Tommy, his brother, that he almost hated him for finding a better life without him in it? “I shouldn’t have said what I said... I don’t even believe it. I know you’re happy for me; it's just—it’s complicated for you. I’m sorry.”

 In that moment, Joel did what he had always done best and ignored it. “This ride to the university—is it a suicide mission?”

 “No. It’s dangerous, but it’s nothin’ you can’t handle. Just prepare and do what you do.” He said it as if he were not a shadow of what he used to be. As if he did not freeze when Ellie was in danger, and he didn’t fall asleep on watch, and his hands were still strong, his back didn’t ache, and he wasn’t holding back a torrent of tears.

 “You’ve had people go that way and come back?”

“All of ‘em.” He has said too much, “What is this?” And god, how was he supposed to hold this any longer? Where was he supposed to sit the last eight months down—or was it nine?—if not with him, that would not leave a path of destruction behind him. Tess, and Ellie, and the Fireflies, and Bill and Frank, and Henry and Sam, and Kansas City, and you? It was swallowing him whole, ripping him open from the inside; it was so heavy and he was so weak, more sorrow than man, and he could no longer bear the weight on his own.

 “She’s immune.”

 “What?” 

“Ellie. She got infected, but she didn’t get sick.” He looked like he was ready to chase the girl down and put a bullet between her eyes. “Tommy. Tommy, I saw her get bit myself. That was months ago. Months. She’s immune.”

 “From the beginning.” And he did. He told Tommy everything—about Tess; about Marlene and the Fireflies and how Tess made him swear to take her; about Kansas City and how Ellie saved his life; and Henry and Sam and how someone else had to save Ellie’s life because he could hardly hear out of his right ear and how desolate Henry’s eyes were after he shot his little brother (he overlooked how Ellie’s scream felt like a knife in his gut). He told him how he thought that dog was going to rip her to shreds, and the only thing he could do was stand frozen in place because he’s not the man he used to be, no longer a ruthless killer who could have taken anyone and anything down in his path—he needed Tommy to understand that part. He needed Tommy to know that the only piece left of the man he once knew was the weak, aching flesh and bones sitting in front of him. He was no more capable of taking care of Ellie than he was of Sarah, but he was staring at him as though he were lying.

“I was so afraid.” Joel could not hear himself speaking anymore. He knew the words were leaving his lips—he could see Tommy react to the syllables as the sound waves traveled through the air and to his ears, but he could not hear them. The ringing in his ears had never been so loud. “You think I can still handle things, but I’m not who I was.” A single crack in his voice. “I’m weak.” And god, he still looked at him like he wanted to argue against the points he so clearly laid out. “Lately, there are these moments when the fear comes up outta nowhere and my heart… feels like it's stopped…

“And I have dreams. Every night." 

“What kinda dreams?" 

“I don’t know. I can’t remember.” Another crack in his voice. Another reminder that he is incapable. “I just know that when I wake up, I’ve lost somethin’.” Tears began to fall down his cheeks. “I’m failin’ in my sleep. That’s all I do. It’s all I’ve ever done is fail them again and again and again.” Them?

“You want me to take her.”

“I’m just gonna get her killed. I know it. I have to leave her.”

“And what about her?” Joel’s heart truly stopped at the mention of you. “You still haven’t said a damn word about her or why she’s with you. Who is she?” He took in a shaky breath. He knew that Tommy would ask about you; he had sent a silent prayer that he would gloss over you. He could not bear to face the truth about you.

“What about her?” Denial was always his closest friend, but it seemed determined to betray him. 

“Joel.” He wanted to seem indifferent; he wanted to lie, but the truth came spilling out of his mouth the same way hot tears streamed down his weathered cheeks. It did not ask for permission—it took whatever it wanted from Joel. The truth wanted everything from him this time; it begged to be free from its shackles. What was he supposed to say about you? How could he justify this? How could he explain that you had completely bewitched him without him having ever known until it was too late? How could he tell Tommy everything without admitting a truth he had tried so desperately to ignore?

“C’mon. From the beginning.”

[a/n: buckle up we're gonna be breaking hearts here]

MASTERLIST // AO3

[justmeinadaze]

We're a Family Part 22 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Get ready to feel old <3. I wrote Good Neighbors a little over a year ago and I've loved how they've evolved. I'm not done with this little family yet. I still have one more chapter with Dylan and then some ideas with an older Ro but, ugh, lol I feel how the reader feels when it comes to her first born.

Warnings: Dads Steddie/ Mama Fem Reader, SMUT, edging (they are still trying new things), handcuffs, etc, FLUFF, they love each other <3 and their kiddos, ANGST, someone from the past comes back to talk to the adult Munson-Harringtons and Dylan, Steve and Eddie struggle being protective over their eldest (Eddie just hides it better), lots of talk about Dylan growing up and leaving the nest and how these three feel about it.

Word Count: 5256

An 18-year-old Dylan bounces anxiously on his toes as you sort through the mail too slow for his liking. 

“MOM! Come on! Did anything come for me or not?”

Two years had passed since you reconnected with your mother and things had been going very well. She was always extremely busy with work but when she came over Aurora insisted on showing her all the movies she missed out on. 

“Grandma! Watch how cool this is!”, the seven-year-old squeals with delight as they focus on the film in front of them. The light saber flies past Kylo-Ren into Rey’s hand and Ro breathes a sigh of excitement.

“Ok, now explain to me again how ‘the force’ works.”, yoru mom asks as she leans forward over her crossed legs on the couch. 

You grin from your spot in the kitchen as you bump Eddie’s hip with yours. 

“Definitely your daughter, nerd.”

“Takes one to know one, princess.”

James was now a toddler causing all kinds of chaos around the Munson-Harrington home. His sticky fingers got into everything even some of the cabinets that you had believed were too high for him to reach. 

“James Wayne Munson Harrington.”, you scold with your hands on your hips as you watch him lean back and laugh with a wide smile that only rivaled that of his dad. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Plopping his butt down on the counter, he dangles his legs over the side as he reaches his tiny hand into the snack box and produces a chocolate chip cookie. 

“Mama cookie…Yames.”, he coos as he points to himself while struggling to say his name correctly. 

“Mhmm. Didn’t you just eat lunch?”

“For…for mama an Rara.”

“Don’t you bribe me and your sister with sweets, you little butthead.”

“Why are you being mean to our son?”, Steve asks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen.

“Because our son parkoured up the counter for a snack.”

The three-year-old giggles as he offers his dad a cookie that he accepts before lifting him into his arms and putting the box back in the cabinet. 

“What did we say, bud?”

“Ask.”

“That’s right. You have to ask first. Now give mommy a kiss as an apology and get out of here, you butthead.”

Dylan was halfway through his senior year of high school and applied to a lot of colleges but was anxious to be accepted to a certain one because that’s where Daisy was going. The two of them had continued to date and see each other which you didn’t mind. What killed you however was that because of her family she was looking at a school that was a few states away. You had never been that far from your son and it scared you.

“I don’t know. I see bills and ads. Let me take my time to really read these though.” Dylan huffs making you smile as you give him a hug. He was so much taller than you now, your head resting against his chest as you wrapped your arms around him. “Everything’s going to be ok, weirdo. You’ll hear something soon. There’s still some time.” 

***

Steve ran his hands over his eyes exhaustedly while grading papers during his lunch. With winter break coming up, he wanted to get everything out of the way so he could take these next couple of weeks to spend some time with the kids especially Dylan. When he had mentioned going to school out of state, of course, he was proud and encouraged him to apply but he’d be lying if he didn’t say the idea of his son being so far away broke his heart.

“Stevie?”

The sound of Eddie’s voice calmed him as he smiled towards the door his husband was leaning against. 

“Hey you. What are you doing here?”

“You, uh, just started your lunch hour right?”

Steve knew that tone, something was going on that the metalhead was afraid would upset him. 

“Yeah? Everything ok?” As he turned his head towards the hall, your ex-husband stepped into view. “No. Nope. Not happening.”

“Give us a second.”, Eddie gestured towards Charlie before entering the classroom and closing the door. “Steven, calm down.”

“Calm down? Why the fuck is he here?! Whatever he wants the answer is no.”

“Baby, sit. Please? At least hear me out first.” Steve huffed as he folded his arms and pouted while Eddie sat on his desk in front of him. “I get it. Trust me I do but I felt like…for what he’s asking we should talk about it at most. He wanted to speak to us both first out of respect because we are Dylan’s dads.”

“Damn right.”

“He’s not asking to spend time with him again or anything like that. Charlie doesn’t think Dylan would even want that but… he’s asking to see him graduate.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Edward Munson?!”, Steve practically shouts as he rises to his feet.

“Shhhh.”, the metalhead tries to calm him doing the same.

“No! He hasn’t earned that fucking right. He hasn’t been here AT ALL in over 5 years. Why is that?! Oh, that’s right, he signed him over. Charlie had plenty of chances to be there for him and he failed! WE raised him and he thinks he can just waltz back in and be a part of something like that?!”

“Steve! Breathe.”, Eddie tries to sooth as he cups his face in his hands. “Breathe. I get where you are coming from. I said all of the same things to him when he came to the shop. But… I get it from Dylan’s side to. Remember when I finally graduated? I was so excited that Wayne was there but there was still a part of me… that wished my mom and dad could see me finally do it to. A lot of that was to spite them and show them I could do it.”, he chuckled making Steve smile. “But a lot of it was also the little kid in me wanting them there.”

The man in his arms heavily exhaled before tilting forward to kiss his lips and gesturing for Eddie to bring him in.

“I warned you before, Charlie, about hurting my son. If we talk to him and he wants you there and you don’t show up…I swear to God—”

“No, no. I understand. I’ll move heaven and earth to be there I swear.”

“Yeah to bad you couldn’t do that for him or Brody before.”

“Steve.”, Eddie warned.

“No, he’s right. I always said I’d never be like my stepdad yet… I’m, um, glad he’s had you two. I’m working with Vivian to be there for Brody. I’m trying…”

“You understand if he or Y/N says no, then the answer is no?”

“Yeah, I understand. Thank you for hearing me out though. I know I don’t deserve it.”

***

Your eyes constantly raked across them during dinner while they ate. Both men seemed completely distracted but especially Steve. 

“I’m done. I’m going to go play games upstairs.”, Dylan announces as he stands from the table. 

“Ah, kid, do you mind staying for a bit?”, Eddie asked throwing the two of you off guard. “Are you done to?”, he asks Ro as she beams up at him with her messy face. 

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good. Can you take this troublemaker and go watch tv please?”, he laughs as Steve blind sides her with a napkin to wipe her mouth and the other boy pulls James out of his chair, placing him on the floor. 

Aurora grabs her brother’s hand, giggling as they run to the tv in the living room. They wait until the sound of a show blares from that area before Eddie leans forward on his elbows and Steve leans back folding his arms. 

“I don’t know how to ease into this so I’m just going to say it. Charlie came to visit me and Steve today.”

Your eyes widen as your head ticks to the side while Dylan sighs mirroring Steve’s posture. 

“Whatever it is the answer is no.”

“Y/N…please. He said all he wanted was to see Dylan graduate from high school.”

“After everything he’s done?!”

“Yeah, I already went down that road, baby, but Eddie seems to think it’s worth the conversation.”, Steve exhaled heavily. 

“Do you?”, his son asked. “What did you say when he asked?”

“I told him that it was up to you and Y/N. If you two said you were fine with it—”

“But you don’t want him there?”

Steve glances towards Eddie who gives him a look of subtle warning.

“No, I don’t.”, he answers honestly causing the metalhead to huff in frustration. “I don’t feel like he’s earned that luxury after everything he’s done and put you through. But…I also feel like it’s your choice. If you want him there then he should be there. You know no matter what, kid, you’re still my son. It won’t hurt my feelings if you want him there.”

“Our feelings.”, Eddie added. “I get what Steve is saying but I’ve been on the other side. My dad was in prison when I graduated. I was ecstatic Wayne was there but…”

Dylan’s soft eyes shift towards you as he reaches for your hand. 

“Mom?”

“I just…I don’t want him to hurt you. I don’t you to get your hopes up and then he doesn’t show.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Stevie already threatened him if he didn’t show.”, Eddie grinned making your son laugh. 

“I’d, um, I’d like to talk with him before I make a decision if that’s alright.”

***

“Baby?”, Eddie cooed as he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist while you leaned in the doorway of James’s room. Steve had fallen asleep in the toddler’s little racecar bed, his frame much too big for the mattress underneath as his legs hung off the side. His arm was holding the small boy to his side as he rested his sleeping head on his father’s chest. 

“Eddie, why do you think everything with Charlie affects him so much more?”

“Hm, sweetheart, it affects us both about the same but Steve here just sucks at hiding it. I love Dylan with my heart and would do anything for him. I’d be lying if I said the idea of him going to graduation doesn’t make me angry but if that’s what our son wants then I want him to be happy.” You nod at his statement, giving the man pause. “How does it make you feel? Be honest.”

“I don’t want him to go. I don’t…trust that he’ll actually show up. I feel like Steve right now where I just want to tell Dylan that we’re his parents and the answer is no so we can protect him.”

“The problem with that, my love, is you don’t know for 100% if that will be the outcome. I mean look at what happened with your mom.”

“Eddie, he’s my baby.”

“I know, babe. I know.”, he soothes as he turns you around and wraps you in his arms. 

***

“When he gets here, do you want us to leave you two alone?”, the metalhead asked as the three of them waited at a table in the nearby Hawkins Diner.

“Not like alone, alone though. We’d be a couple of tables away.”, Steve assured confidently, trying to push down all of the emotions he was feeling. 

“Can you stay, please? I’d be lying if I didn’t say I’m a little terrified.”

“Terrified how, bud? You don’t have to do this if you’re uncom—”

“Steve! Calm down, sweetheart.”, Eddie chuckles as he rubs his back comfortingly. 

Dylan reached for his father’s hand and flashed him a big smile. 

“Everything’s going to be ok, dad. No matter what you both are always going to be my real fathers.”

As they beamed over at him, a figure caught Eddie’s eye as it quickly turned to leave. 

“Hey, I’m, uh, I’m going to go smoke before he gets here. I’ll be right back.”

Throwing on his jacket, the long-haired boy hastily power walked towards the front door, opening it just in time to see Charlie heading back to his truck. 

“HEY! No. No, no, no, no.”, he shouted as he ran to block his path. “No. You are NOT doing this to him. You’re here now just get the fuck in there and talk to him.”

“I-I-I can’t. I saw him and… he looks so different now. That’s not my little boy anymore. I can’t do this. I can’t—”

Eddie abruptly shoved the man against his vehicle, cutting him off. 

“You’re right. He’s not a little boy anymore. Unfortunately, you missed that because you were too fucking selfish. Now you have a chance to be a part of his adult life if that’s what he wants but, Charlie, if you walk away now that is never going to happen. Don’t be a fucking coward. He’s a good kid.”

“Because of you two. He fucking hates me.”

“Believe it or not, he doesn’t. Dylan thinks YOU hate HIM.”

“What? No. I love him and Brody so much.”

“Then where the fuck have you been?!”, he sighs releasing him from his hold. “He’s graduating with honors and a baseball scholarship to any school he chooses. He wants to go to a school up north with his girlfriend to major in music and education so he can become a music teacher. Dylan has worked so hard to get here. Don’t ruin it with your bullshit.”

Eddie shakes his head as he saunters back inside and plops down next to Steve. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, he grins but his husband can see right through it. 

Placing his arm around the back of his chair, he leans close to his ear. 

“You’ll tell me later?”

A throat clears startling everyone as they turn to see Charlie standing beside the table. 

“Hi. Hey.”, his voice trembles as he shakes Eddie and Steve’s hands before turning to give Dylan his attention. “Hey, um, wow. Jesus. You look so much like your mom.”

“Oh. Uh, thank you. She thinks I look like you. To be fair she thinks none of her kids look like her.”

“Yeah? How many siblings do you have now?”

“Not including Brody, two. A sister and another brother.”

Your ex nods taking a seat as Dylan folds his arms over his chest. The guys were trying their best to stay as out of the way as they could while still being present for their son.

“So, uh--”

“Why do you want to come to my graduation?”, the boy asked bluntly. “My entire life you never went to anything that I was involved in and then signed me away. Why do you care?”

“I didn’t…sign you away… I just…I was never good at being a dad.”

“Why didn’t you try? Was it because of me?”

“No. God, no. Dylan, to me you were…are… absolutely perfect. I love you with all my heart. That’s why I signed those papers. After talking with your mom, I realized these two would be a better father for you than I ever could.”

Your son nods, sighing under his breath as he collects his thoughts. 

“Mom will be there and Vivian to. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Oh, uh, no. I didn’t realize they were talking to each other.”

“They aren’t. Dylan wanted to get to know Brody and Vivian missed him so Y/N lets him go to her house on the weekends.”, Steve explained. 

“Wow. It seems a lot has changed.”

“It’s been 5 years, Charlie. What did you expect?”

Your ex flinched at the sound of Dylan using his name but unlike the incident with Steve, it didn’t bother your son. He had long since moved past feeling like Charlie was his dad and could honestly never see himself calling him that again. 

“I don’t want you to go to my graduation but, maybe, we could get together and get to know each other again. Work our way up to having a relationship… I mean if mom and my dads are okay with it.”

“Yeah, Dil. I’d like that.”

Hearing Charlie call him that again stuck a raw nerve he kept tucked away for the last five years causing him to abruptly rise from his seat. 

“Ok, I’m ready to go now.”, he announces without waiting for an answer and flying out the front door. 

“Thank you guys for this. Tell Y/N I said thank you to.”

“Oh, she didn’t approve of this either. I’m the only one that seems to be slightly on your side but that’s because I know what it’s like to have your father abandon you.”, Eddie exhales as he and Steve get up as well.

“I didn’t…I didn’t abandon him.”

“Yeah, sure. Neither did my dad. He just boosted cars and ended up in jail for the rest of his life. It’s not his fault.”, he responded sarcastically. “Step one on rebuilding your relationship with him Charlie… Own your mistakes.”

################

“No Grandpa! You have to wear the crown because you’re a princess.”, Aurora giggled as she places the colorfully crown she created out of paper onto Wayne’s head. 

“I’m a princess? Not a King?”

“No.”, she laughs harder, cover her mouth with her little hand. 

Beaming over at them from your place on the floor, you and James continue to color in his little coloring book Eddie’s uncle had brought over. 

“Granpa, purty.”

“Thank you, James. I do feel beautiful.”

The alarm beeps as the front door opens and you do everything in your power not to get up to run to them anxiously. 

“Oh wow, Wayne. I must say, you make a gorgeous queen.”, Eddie teases.

“For your information, son, I’m a princess.”

The metalhead chuckles as they come to sit by you in the living room and your son immediately crawls to Steve to show him his pictures. 

“Dada, look.”

The sound of Dylan’s feet subtly bang up the stairs as he heads for his room and closes the door. 

“He’s ok, baby. Just needs some time alone.”, your husband assures. 

“What happened? Did he show up?” They gave you a recount of everything that happened including Eddie telling you both about him almost leaving. “I can’t say I’m not happy he won’t be going but who knows. Maybe in these six months Dylan may change his mind.”

The next couple of days went by with little to no fan fair as Christmas break finally came. That Friday after coming home from work, you checked the mail like you normally do except a college insignia catches your eye. Running full speed into the house, you drop everything as you scream your son’s name.

“Jesus Christ, woman. What is happening?!”, Eddie exclaims as he slides in from the kitchen.

As Dylan sprints down the stairs with Steve in tow, you present him with the envelope he had been waiting weeks for. Hastily, he yanks it from your grasp and tears it open as you dance on the balls of your feet. 

“Oh my god.”

“What? Is it good news? Bad news?”

With wide tear-filled eyes, a small grin spreads along his face. 

“I got in.”

All the adults in the room shout in excitement as you tackle hug your arms around him. 

“Baby, oh my god. I’m so proud of you!”

“Good job, Dylan.”, Eddie beams. “You’ll be the first Munson to go to college.”

“I’m proud of you to, little man.”, Steve smiles softly as he gives the boy a hug. 

“I’m going to go call Daisy. I love you guys!”, he declares as he speeds back up to his room. 

The metalhead holds up his index finger in your direction as both men tilt their head and wait for his door to close before the other boy nods. As soon as you get the go ahead, you fall into their arms and begin to cry. 

“I know, baby. He grew up too fast. We’re going to miss him to.”

***

“Ok, I finally got Aurora and James to sleep. Eddie is in the kitchen eating Santa’s cook—“, Steve froze when he finally entered the bedroom and noticed the image before him. 

You were sitting on the edge of the bed in a velvet red lingerie dress that cut off just so on your thigh barely hiding your panty less crotch with the white fluff that wrapped around the bottom. Your hair was curled and flowed down your shoulders as the Santa hat you wore sat perfectly on your head. 

“I thought you two could open this present early.”, you grin in a seductive voice as you cross your legs and lean back on your hands. 

“Eddie…”, Steve tried to call with a needy crack in his tone. “E-Ed-Eddie… EDWARD!”

“What!?”, the metalhead whisper shouts making you giggle. “Dude, lower your voice. You’re gonna wake—” While he was talking, the man pulled his collar to hurry him up and your grin grew as the other boy’s mouth fell open as well. 

“Get in here, you dorks.”, you tease as you get up, pull them both into the bedroom, and shut the door. “I was thinking we could try something Eddie has mentioned a few times.”

“Oh my god, I’m so in love with you.”, Steve sighs happily as he lifts you into his arms and spins you around before placing a kiss on your lips. “Do we get to handcuff him? Please tell me we do!”

“If you both want.”

Eddie giddily climbs into the bed, kissing your lips before a thought crosses his mind. 

“Wait, we haven’t handcuffed Steve to the bed yet and I feel like this whole edging thing would be way more fun to do to him… Mr. I’m-the-big-protector-guy.”

The pretty boy rolls his eyes as he falls on to his back, lifting off his shirt, and throwing it in his husband’s face playfully. 

Pushing some of your hair behind your ear, you restrain him to the headboard as the metalhead pulls off the boy’s sweats and boxers. 

“Should we have like a safe word or something? You both get sensitive quickly and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”, you ask in a soft, loving voice that makes him smile. 

“I’ve heard ‘Red’ is a good word.”, Eddie offers, grinning when you both nod in affirmation. 

“Say ‘Red’ if I’m uncomfortable. Got it.”, Steve repeats, smirking when you put your Santa hat on his head. “You know, you’re pretty sensitive to, fyi.” 

“I guess next time, we’ll have to test that theory.”, you tease as you run your palm through the hair on his chest and over to his side. “Ok, my love, do you want to start since you’re the sexual deviant that’s been looking up this stuff?”

The long-haired boy smiles mischievously as he leans over the other boy’s stomach to kiss your lips. 

“You…like…it.”, Eddie coos between each peck. 

As you continue to rub his chest, Steve’s breathing stutters as the man he loves take his cock in his warm hands and begins slowly stroking him. 

“How does that feel, baby?”

“G-good. Really good. I like when y-you both touch me.”

Your palm slides up his neck to his cheek and he tenderly kisses your thumb as it grazes his lips. Shifting your body, you curl up on his side as you listen to the sound of Eddie spit over his tip and smear it along his length making Steve’s mouth open in a silent O.

“Fuck, Eddie, baby.”

Trailing kisses along his side, your hands and nails continue to roam his upper torso as his back arches at the sensations. As your husband’s ringed hand pumps him faster, Steve bites his bottom lip to suppress the loud moan that wants to escape. 

“You look so handsome like this.”, you whisper as you tenderly move some of his hair away from his face. “Keep talking to us, Stevie. Please.”

“C-Can’t.”

“Why?”

“Too…too good.”

Beaming towards the other man, he winks at you as he drops another glob of spit over Steve’s tip as the boy ruts up into his hand. You both know his tells for when he’s about to let go; you’ve all studied each other very well over these past almost 12 years. Just as Steve was nearing his release…Eddie let him go and leaned back on his knees. 

“N-No. No, no, no!”

“How are we feeling now, Harrington?”

The man huffed as he tugged on his restraints before groaning with need as Eddie wrapped his lips around his cock taking him all the way down to the back of his throat. After kissing his lips, you trailed your own down his chest to his stomach and stopping just above the base of shaft. 

The metalhead came off him with a syrupy smack, stroking the man with his hand as he leaned towards you to passionately kiss your lips. The two of you played with Steve for a good long while, taking turns bringing him to the edge just before pulling back. His cock was dripping with both your saliva, angry and red from all the teasing. 

As you glanced his way, his eyes were squeezed shut as he muttered things under his breath. 

“Steve, honey? Are you ok?”

His eyes opened abruptly, meeting yours with a fire you hadn’t seen from him in a very long time.

“Eddie, let him go.”, you breathily moaned as his intense gaze never left yours. 

The moment the cuffs came off, Steve’s sweaty frame practically tackled your own as he lifted you into his arms and spun you around making you giggle at his earnestness as your head hit the pillows. His lips devoured yours as if it had been ages since he tasted your kisses. Hissing at your touch, you reached between you both and guided him into your entrance. Before he could make any kind of movement, Eddie took hold of his hips and slide into the man above you. 

Steve was anything but gentle as he slammed his lower half into you both desperately chasing his release. 

“Oh…oh my God, baby. Just like that.”, you whimpered as his head feel beside you, latching his lips to your neck. 

Glancing up to your other husband, his hair blocked his face as he grunted and clung to Steve’s waist as he met each thrust with a hard, rough one of his own. 

The bed underneath you began to shake and the metalhead quickly reached up to hold it still with his palm.

“Fuck, Steve. You feel so fucking good. I love you, baby. M-Make me cum.”

Clinging to his hair and back, he pounded into you till the coil snapped and your pussy clenched tightly around him. The sound he made in your ear drove you crazy as his body trembled on top of yours and you felt his seed release inside of you. As he aggressively thrust it deep into your cunt, Eddie fell against his back, and held his chest as he came inside of the man below him.  

“Jesus fucking Christ, that was amazing.”, the metalhead panted. “Steve, sweetheart, are you ok?”

“I think he fell asleep.”, you giggled as you petted the boy’s head. “Stevie, baby?”

“Hm?”, he grumbled as he snuggled closer to you.

“Are you alright?”

“Hmm…mmhmm…”, he nodded. 

“As much as I would love for you to fall asleep inside of me, it’s Christmas eve. You know at 7am those kids are going to burst through our door.”

Groaning, he nods as he rolls off you with Eddie immediately ready with a pair of boxers and rag to wipe him off. After making sure Steve was set, your husband grinned as he lifted you into his arms, disrobed you, and placed you in the shower as he delicately cleaned you. 

“I love you to, baby.”, you smile up at him as he kisses your forehead. 

“I love you even more. You looked really gorgeous in that outfit and I’m sure Steven will agree when he’s more coherent.”, he chuckles. 

Wrapping your arms tightly around his waist, he does the same as he rests his chin on your head. 

“You know these next few months I’m going to need you two to help me hold it together.”

“I know, sweetheart. I can’t even picture Dylan not being in this house anymore. God, and we’re both going to have to be on Steve duty because you know he’s going to be a mess to.”

################

While Eddie and Steve sip their coffee, you pat James’s back as he curled up around you after opening all his presents and went back to sleep. 

While Aurora was distracted with her morning cartoons, Dylan had gone upstairs to change and came back down just as your doorbell rang. Passing the baby to one of his fathers, you threw on your jacket and opened the front door to a fiddling Charlie. 

“Oh, um, hey Y/N. Merry…Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, so you’re taking him to Vivian’s?”

“Um, yes, ma’am. She’s letting me spend the day with Brody so I asked Dylan if he wanted to join and he said yes.”

Turning to your son, you fixed his ski cap before kissing his cheek. 

“No detours to Daisy’s ok? I want you home straight after for dinner.”

Smiling at you, he jogs towards your ex’s truck and quickly climbs into the heat. 

“Thank you for this. I really appreciate it…after everything.”

“Don’t thank me, Charles. Thank those men in there. I still think this is a bad idea because of everything but we all just want our son to be happy. But I swear to God…I’m not the same woman I was 18 years ago. If you hurt him—”

“I know…your, uh, boyfriends threatened me already.”

“Husbands. Oh, they’ll be the first wave but I’ll be the finishing move. I’m not weak anymore.”

“You never were.” His response startles you as you hug your arms tighter around your body and he softly smiles. “I’ll have him back in a few hours.”

As you reentered the house, their eyes watched you as you sit beside them on the couch still hugging yourself. Ringed fingers threaded through your hair before turning you to face them. 

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah. It’s just weird seeing Charlie be this way.”

“I can understand that. It’s like if my dad came through that door with a smile and a Santa level of presents.”, Steve sighed. 

“Are you both ok? I told him to be home for dinner that way after we eat maybe you three can play that new game we got him.”

“It’s whatever he wants, baby. I try to remember what it was like when I was his age and I never wanted to be home.”, the pretty boy laughs. “So, the fact that he likes hanging out with us at all makes me happy.”

Eddie nods in agreement as James wiggles in his embrace. 

“Daddy. Yames…hungee…”, the boy babbles as he taps his mouth with his palm. 

“I guess it is that time to start fattening him up so we can have him plump enough to eat for dinner later.”

“No, daddy! Don’t be mean to James.”, Aurora scolds as her brother giggles. 

“Come on, you. Let’s see if Santa left us anymore cookies in our pantry.”

#########

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @nailbatanddungeon

@dad-steddie @manda-panda-monium @alligator-person

@decadentwombatmiracle @katie-tibo @marsupiooo

@local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics @lunatictardis

@adaydreamaway08 @hazydespair @actuallyspencerreid

@moviefreak1205 @waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

@justmeandmymeanderingthoughts @3rriberri

@sashaphantomhive @chelebelletx @big-ope-vibes

@munsonzzgf @munsonmoonshine86

[mirai-e-jump]

Uchusen Vol. 183 (Winter 2024) Ohsama Sentai King-Ohger Main Cast Member Interviews (translations below)

Publication: December 28, 2023

Sakai Taisei x Masato Yano Interview

Racules Husty, who had deceived his people and younger brother for the sake of a good cause, and who had lived with the stigma of being an evil tyrant, has finally rebelled against the Uchu King, Dagded! Many fans must have been moved by the brothers, Gira and Racules, who've come to the point where they're willing to position their swords side by side in order to protect Chikyu. In this issue, we asked Sakai Taisei and Masato Yano, who play these brother kings, to talk about the hardships they've faced, and their memories of the past.

"Before this show, the two of you co starred in last year's drama "Shinyu wa Akujo." Please tell us your impressions of when you first met."

Sakai: The first time we met, Yano-san had a great aura about him, and to be honest, I was really nervous at first (laughs). However, a few days after filming began, Yano-san started talking to me and began teasing me on set in order to ease my nerves.

Yano: In Shinyu wa Akujo, our relationship is that of superior and subordinate. I heard that this was Sakai-kun's first appearance in a serial drama, so I tried to talk to him as much as possible as to not make him nervous. Since my role was that of an easy going boss, I'd suddenly adlib and talk to him during the actual performance (laughs).

Sakai: I was confused at that time (laughs). He once took me out for ramen during the middle of a break…..he really took care of me in many ways.

"Have your impressions changed since meeting again on King-Ohger's set?"

Yano: Since his position is that of the leader of King-Ohger, the atmosphere and appearance of his performance have changed dramatically. I think he's grown.

Sakai: Yano-san being the mood maker on set hasn't changed since Shinyu wa Akujo, but back then, we didn't have as many deep discussions about the performance as we do now.

Yano: During filming, the covid pandemic still hadn't calmed down yet, so we weren't able to go out and eat together.

Sakai: But, ever since we started appearing together in King-Ohger, he takes me out for meals, where he's been really kind and gives me advice not only for acting, but also for my personal life.

"In Shinyu wa Akujo, you played boss and colleague, and in this work you play brothers, so there seems to be a connection (fate)."

Sakai: I guess so. Our relationship is gradually getting closer.

Yano:……If we get another chance, I wonder what's next? Maybe we play the role of lovers? (laughs).

Sakai:……Sounds good (laughs).

"Now then, Racules, who left in episode 20, came back as Shugo Mask in episode 34, but it was surprising that he took off his mask as soon as he appeared."

Yano: As a viewer, you may have felt like he took off the mask as soon as he appeared, but I feel like Racules spent several months wearing the mask off screen, and that he'd take it off when in front of Suzume. And so, when the kings returned, he took off the mask. It may have looked like he was eager to take it off (laughs), but it's not like he abruptly removed it.

"Including the appearance of new enemies and the resurrection of Racules, how do you feel about the various events that took place in the second chapter?"

Yano: Sakai-kun's Gira is starting to look alittle more like Racules.

Sakai: Actually, I adopted Racules's movements, such as the pose where I spread my arms. In the first chapter, where Gira's pose has his arms wide open, when I saw the footage myself, I felt like, "It holds no weight…" Gira in the first chapter looks good, but since Gira's grown in the second, I thought about giving him the dignity of a king. Therefore, I used Yano-san's elegant movements as an example.

Yano: It's true that he's become more dignified since the second chapter. I myself have changed my hairstyle, and my body shape has increased by 6 kg compared to my role in the first chapter. When I cut my hair, it makes me look more refreshed and slimmer. Since I'm in a hero production, it's more convincing if I'm bigger to some extent.

"Did your role change after the second chapter?"

Sakai: I wanted to create a relaxed atmosphere, so I tried to lower the tone of my voice more than I did before.

Yano: I knew in advance that I'd be fighting Dagded on the side of the Royal Sentai, so even when I was on Dagded's side, I wondered if any viewers would understand, "Deep down in your heart, you must be thinking something different." I was performing while trying to find an opening. Viewers will be able to guess what'll happen in the future based on the slightest facial expression or gestures, so I was careful not to spoil the story as much as possible.

Sakai: It's difficult to just barely find an opening. In episode 35, there's a scene where Gira says to Racules, "Why are you alive?!," and Producer Omori Takahito-san told me, "Act as if you knew he was alive." So, I acted with a slight smile on my face, trying to show my happiness at him being alive. However, when I watched the broadcast, that expression had been cut out. It seems that it was decided that my performance at that time would be a spoiler.

Yano: The foreshadowing in King-Ohger is so complex, so we had to think about it ourselves or we wouldn't be able to follow the story. While acting, I thought to myself, "Is this expression okay?" If you don't think carefully about these kinds of things, including the post transformation dubbing, your performance will affect future developments and their connection to the past.

"Episode 37 was a serious one between Kaguragi and Iroki, but then the next week's episode was about idols, so we get the impression that there's a huge difference in how developments unfold."

Yano: King-Ohger tends to have "break times" after a serious story (laughs).

Sakai: I'm used to it by now (laughs).

Yano: I didn't appear in episode 38, but when I read the script, I was like, "Who's speaking here?" and I couldn't understand the details at all (laughs). From now on, the story is going to get alot more serious, but I hope there'll be break times in between (laughs).

Sakai: I'm really looking forward to future developments (laughs).

"In the first chapter, the comical performance of Racules in the imagination scenes of Gira and the others was also appealing."

Yano: That's when Gira dressed up in different outfits in episode 11, right? That was the first time I abandoned the character of Racules (laughs).

Sakai: That's right (laughs).

Yano: To be honest, I was also holding back in that one. In fact, I wanted to be even more extra (laughs).

"Please tell us about some of the most memorable episodes that have been broadcast so far"

Yano: It's episode 41.

Sakai: That's mine too!

Yano: Racules, who was thought to be an enemy up until then, faced towards the enemy side and said, "Stand up, Gira! It's time to save the universe!" which I thought was really cool.

Sakai: After that, I also really like episode 42. I think those two episodes are the turning point of the story that's unfolded so far. The underlying story of King-Ohger, between an older and younger brother has been firmly established, and it's left a lasting impression on me.

Yano: Gira called Racules "Onii-chan" for the first time.

Sakai: The smile on Racules's face at that time was great to see.

"The villains in hero productions are often disliked, but Racules is very popular among children."

Yano: I thought that the more people disliked him at first, the bigger the impact would be when he becomes good, so I acted while trying to make people dislike him. But, as it turned out, he wasn't disliked much.

Sakai: I'm sure the kids who saw episode 42 like him even more!

"Were Racules's true intentions, which were revealed in episodes 41 and 42, known from the start?"

Yano: That's right. I was mostly informed.

Sakai: Did you know about it from the beginning?

Yano: Yeah, I knew (laughs).

Sakai: I had asked the staff, "What are Racules's true intentions?" but they wouldn't tell me because they said, "If we tell you, it would ruin the performance."

Yano: And so, he asked me alot of questions.

Sakai: I thought Yano-san would tell me (laughs).

Yano: No! There's no way I was going to tell you!! (laughs). They'd be furious and say, "Why did you tell him!!?"

"As the final episode approaches, are you feeling sad?"

Sakai: The TV series will soon end, but I still have the "Unmasked Warrior" performance at Theater G-Rosso, as well as the Final Live Tour, so I don't actually feel like, "This is the end."

Yano: That's right. Since I won't be at G-Rosso, I feel that the end is near, and the other day I said to Sakai-kun, "In about a month, this project will be over…" That's why I'm taking it one day at a time so that I don't have any regrets about the character of Racules.

Sakai: It'll be lonely. G-Rosso, let's go!

Yano: I've already got other work.

Sakai: I guess you really can't get out of it (laughs).

Yano: In one way or another, It'd be interesting if I could make a surprise appearance.

"What are your thoughts looking back on the year of filming?"

Yano: Until now, the longest I've worked on the same project was about half a year, so this is the first time I've continued a project for over a year. However, there was a time where I had to leave midway, so I think Sakai-kun and the others had an even more intense year than I did.

Sakai: It was definitely intense. I had this strange feeling where a day would go by quickly, but the week felt very long.

Yano: When you play the same role for a year, you gradually get used to it and your true self comes out. But in King-Ohger, I think it was good that I was able to switch my mindset to a new one at the beginning of the second chapter.

"Since this is a great opportunity, why don't you share a message with each other?"

Yano: Sakai-kun, you've become very sturdy over the past year, and compared to the first episode, I think you now have the face of "a person who carries the burden." Filming will come to an end soon, but I hope that you'll continue to lead everyone, absorb many things, and become an even bigger actor than you are now.

Sakai: I'll devote myself to being one.

"Please also give a message from Sakai-san to Yano-san."

Sakai: I'm learning from Yano-san every day, and I can only thank him for that. It's been over a year since "Shinyu wa Akujo," but Aniki taught me alot about acting and how to act as an actor.

Yano: You've never called me Aniki! (laughs).

Sakai: I think of you as Aniki! (laughs). I think it was really good experience to have a veteran like Yano-san by my side all the way. Thank you so much! I think this is one of the best parts of working on a Super Sentai set.

Yano: There may be many people who want to play a tokusatsu hero, but have given up because of their age, however, Kaku So-kun who plays Kaguragi is one year older than me, and Suzuki Hirofumi-san who played KijiBrother in "Donbrothers" is also in his 30s. I think I was able to prove that people of our generation can still play heroes.

"Racules will be fighting alongside Gira and the others in the future, but please tell us about some key points of future developments."

Yano: As the show reaches its climax, each episode will have more developments than the last that you can't miss. Please watch out for the future of Racules and the future of Gira.

Sakai: The past of Gira and Racules will be revealed in the future, and the story will continue to heat up toward the end. The staff and cast are all working together to create this production, and we hope you'll continue to look forward to it!

Amano Kousei Interview

Grodie Leucodium, the last of the Uchu Five Jesters who appeared in the second chapter of King-Ohger. Grodie, who has the ability to bring the dead back to life, and is believed to be responsible for the "Wrath of God," is played by Amano Kousei, who played Sakuya Tachibana in Kamen Rider Blade. We asked Amano, who surprisingly is making his first appearance in the Super Sentai series, about the episodes in which he and his wife appear together, and behind the scenes details of the film site.

"Amano-san has appeared in "Kamen Rider Blade" and "Kamen Rider Fourze," but this is his first appearance in the Super Sentai series. What are your impressions of Super Sentai?"

Amano: I've always thought of Super Sentai as, "A group of heroes who come together to pose and announce their names," and that it was a production aimed at a younger audience and was easier to understand than the Kamen Rider series. However, King-Ohger is different from the image I had of Super Sentai, and I think it's more like Kamen Rider in some ways. Kamen Rider may seem like it's for kids, but it has the appearance of an adult drama that teaches children about the rights and wrongs of the world in an indirect way.

"Amano-san, which Super Sentai productions left the strongest impression on you?"

Amano: When I was a kid, I loved "Taiyou Sentai SunVulcan." I also know of "Tokusou Sentai Dekaranger" since it aired at the same time as Kamen Rider Blade. I only know about those two in detail. Are there those who have seen every single series? Because I'm not that type of person. However, back then, when I watched the broadcast of Dekaranger, I was impressed by how perfectly the five member's transformation poses and names were in sync every time. Our "Blade" team sometimes transformed at the same time in the films, but it was hard to get all of us to do it together. I watched it thinking, "How wonderful."

"We heard that you watched King-Ohger before it was decided that you'd be appearing….."

Amano: Before it aired, when I learned that the main character in King-Ohger was a "red stag beetle," I felt a strong affinity for him. I was also the "red stag beetle" in Blade (laughs). Stag beetles are second only to rhino beetles in terms of insects, and in King-Ohger, I was surprised and pleased to see that KuwagataOhger, the leader, was red.

"How did you feel when you saw it?"

Amano: When I watched it with the image of the past Super Sentai in mind, I was really surprised to see the beginning of an otherworldly fantasy! I was astonished to see a CG world that wasn't the "Oya History Museum" or "Mt. Iwafune" that we're so used to. In the second episode, the familiar "Saitama Super Arena" appeared (laughs), but since the cinematic visuals continued, I wondered, "How much further will they go with this quality?," so I started watching it.

"Please tell us how you came to be involved in King-Ohger, which you had been watching as a viewer."

Amano: Mama (his wife, Hinagata Akiko) played the role of Iroki in "Adventure Heaven," and afterwards, a staff member asked me, "We'd like you to appear in Super Sentai, is that okay?" Because I appeared in Kamen Rider, did they think that I wouldn't want to appear in Super Sentai? It was an offer for a work I love, so I said, "Of course! I want to do it!" and after awhile, I was offered the role of Grodie.

"You were very enthusiastic about promoting the film on SNS when it released, but wasn't it already decided that you'd be cast to appear?"

Amano: It wasn't decided at all! The only reason I was posting about the film on SNS was because Mama was in it, and we were just promoting it as a family. I saw the film by buying my own ticket, and even bought a pamphlet with my own money (laughs). However, I was really happy to see my family in the film because Toei tokusatsu productions were the field that helped me grow, and in a sense, it was like being home. I never thought that I'd also be able to participate.

"How did your wife react when you were cast as Grodie?"

Amano: She knew I liked this show, so she was happy and said, "Good for you!"

"Grodie also appears in the flashback scene of episode 7."

Amano: I didn't play that role, but when it was decided that I'd appear, the staff told me "He appears in episode 7, so please watch it," so I rewatched it on TTFC, but at that time, I had no idea that it would become such an important role.

"When you first appeared in episode 30, the opening credits stated, "Mysterious Man: ?" so when it was revealed that Amano-san was playing the role, was the response good?"

Amano: Surprises like that make my heart race. I was also shown in the trailer without showing my face, but people didn't talk about it much on SNS or ask, "Who is that?" Even after the broadcast started, I didn't see anyone who realized that I was the one playing the role, so, what if I announced, "Actually, Amano is playing the role!" and there was also no reaction?…..I was incredibly anxious! (laughs).

"What was your impression of Grodie's costume?"

Amano: I chose one of two costumes, but the one I didn't go with had a long leather coat with iridescent colors, which I thought was closer to giving off the image of a monster. However, when I tried it on, it looked more like Kamen Rider, so I chose the one I wear in the show. The hat was prepared due to my suggestion. However, the first hat I was given was too small, so I said, "I'd like a bigger one," and the current hat was chosen. The round glasses were also my suggestion, but actually, the actor who played the role in episode 7 was wearing sunglasses of the same design. I just removed the lenses from the sunglasses and used them as glasses.

"How did you prepare for the role?"

Amano: This time, it was a short period of just under a month from receiving the offer to performing, and even at the costume fitting stage, I didn't have a script. The Director described him as, "A creepy guy who isn't interested in anything other than killing people," and then the Director, Producer Omori Takahito-san and I discussed the image of the role. After that, we decided on the costume and read the script to match the visual image of the role. Grodie is a character that we developed from the costume, including the visuals.

"Did you prepare for a role after deciding on the costume?"

Amano: Usually, I'd read the script and understand the character first, and then incorporate that into the costume. For me, this was the first time that the costume came first. So it was fun to interpret the character based on his appearance, such as asking, "Why does he wear glasses?" Glasses are very human, aren't they? When I read the script, I felt a longing for humans in the lines and thought, "Could it be that he admires humans who can die?" and "Maybe that's why he wears glasses like a human."

"How did you decide on the makeup?"

Amano: At first, I was going to use black lipstick, but I was told, "Iroki uses black lipstick, so you should change it," so I decided that, "Red would make it stand out with the costume." The pattern on my face was prepared by the staff, but I don't know what it means. But, I think it's probably because "it looks cool" (laughs). I'm glad to see this kind of ingenuity, as it seems to be typical of Super Sentai villains.

"How did you feel about wearing the costume during filming?"

Amano: Since the hat's so big, it restricts my movements. Grodie is often seen laying down, but due to the brim of the hat, I can't actually lie down, so I have to rest on one elbow. Even in action scenes, if I fall down, my hat will fall off, so I have to fall on top of fallen Sanagim…..Actually, I've come up with alot of tricks for the hat. I can't even put my coat on by myself because it hits my hat when I try to put it on……When I said, "I want a bigger hat" I didn't think it would cause me such a hard time (laughs).

"Please tell us your impressions of Grodie's monster form."

Amano: When I was working on Kamen Rider, I discussed my role with Oshikawa Yoshifumi-san and Watanabe Jun-san, who played my role after the transformation. But, with Muraoka Hiroyuki-san, who plays the role of my monster form this time, I deliberately don't have any meetings or discussions with him. So, when I see the actions of the monster form during dubbing, I enjoy voicing the monster with a fresh mind, thinking, "This is how he played it, so let's voice him this way."

"We were impressed by the unique transformation scene in episode 37, where he seems to blend into the ground."

Amano: It's a shame that I can't shout "Henshin!" like I did in Kamen Rider. If I could, I'd like to say "Royal Arms!" but I'm sure they'd get angry if I did that (laughs). This time, there are no transformation items such as a Belt or Zodiarts Switch, so I want something that can be marketed as a toy. I'd love to see them make it in a spinoff!

"Do you feel any difference with filming compared to Blade and Fourze?"

Amano: In the beginning, I felt uncomfortable performing in front of a green screen with no set. Before I started filming, I watched the other cast members perform and thought to myself, "How do you perform in that situation?," but If you actually try it, you're able to concentrate on your performance, and it might even be easier to act.

"Please tell us about any memorable scenes that have been broadcast so far."

Amano: The scene with Iroki in episode 37 was short but fun. That story really brought out the Iroki who appeared in the film, and Kaguragi was really cool too. To be honest, I didn't like Kaguragi very much before that (laughs). He's two faced and not kingly enough. But after watching that episode, I understood the reasons for my dislike of him, and I felt that everything was positive, which made me start to love him. The script for that episode was amazing because it reversed what I had been feeling for 37 episodes! In my opinion, episode 37 is a divine episode.

"How was it working with Hinagata-san?"

Amano: Since it was just one scene, we didn't have many meetings, and although we're family, we worked just like any other actor. Before I started working on set, I thought, "Will it be difficult to work with Mama?," but it turned out to be easy.

"How do you feel about playing Grodie, who's even more of a villain than Principal Hayami in Fourze?"

Amano: It's alot of fun playing such an excessive villain! Since he's immortal, I think the children watching the show are worried about how Gira and the others will defeat Grodie, but I myself don't know how they'll defeat him (laughs). I think the Directors and screenwriters are also struggling with this, thinking, "This guy's immortal…"

"Looking back on filming so far, what are your impressions?"

Amano: For me, I'm happy to be able to come back to a Toei tokusatsu production like this and reunite with Directors and staff. It really is like returning to your childhood house, and it's so calming. I was able to experience new things such as shooting with live compositing, which I think I'll be able to use in my future work.

"Grodie is still giving the King-Ohger's a hard time, but what are some of the key points to watch out for in the future?"

Amano: For me, the most important point was bringing Mama (Iroki) back to life (laughs). I've achieved that goal, so from now on, I'd like you to pay attention to how many kings he can defeat! There are 6 of them, so I'd like to take half of them, 3, no, maybe 4. I especially want to crush Kaguragi, Hymeno, Rita and Jeramie with my own hands! (laughs).

"Finally, please give a message to the fans."

Amano: When the show first aired, I watched as a viewer, but then I was asked to join the cast. Every time I get a script, I'm inspired and think, "This is how it's going to unfold!," and I'm even more excited than the viewers about what's going to happen next. I'm sad to see it come to an end, but at the same time, I'm looking forward to seeing how it all ends. Please watch King-Ohger to the end!

Tomokazu Seki Interview

Sometimes he's the retainer for the King of In between, other times, he's a Jester for the Uchu King…Tomokazu Seki, well known to be a tokusatsu fan, plays the dual roles of Gerojim and Minongan Moth in King-Ohger. How did Tomokazu Seki, who has played heroes, villians, and item voices in numerous tokusatsu productions, including the Super Sentai series, approach the offer of playing two recurring monsters? And what about his ambitions for future series?! He spoke to us about it in detail.

"Seki-san's first involvement with King-Ohger was as MC for the production press conference, right?"

Seki: That's because Miyajima Sakura-san, who'd been the MC every year, had a scheduling conflict, so I was called in as a substitute. At the time, nothing had been decided about my appearance in the original story, but I thought I could just by saying so, so I jokingly said at the press conference "I might appear in the show," and then it happened. I was asked, "Would you prefer to play a role that's strong but only appears for a short time, or a role that's weak but appears all the time?" I said, "I'd rather be in it all the time," and got the role of Gerojim.

"Were you told from the beginning that you would become Jeramie's retainer?"

Seki: I think that's what I was told. I heard that the setting was about "two people who are undecided," and that Jeramie, a half human half Bugnarak, and Gerojim, a Bugnarak who's said to "not be all there," developed a sense of sympathy for each other.

"How did you prepare for the role of Gerojim?"

Seki: In the beginning, the only information I had from the script was the tone of his voice and that he was a mayfly monster, so I developed an image of him from there. I've played various roles in tokusatsu productions, but this time I wanted to play a role that I hadn't played before in other works, so I decided to do it in the image of Ayanami Rei from "Evangelion" due to the fragile atmosphere of the mayfly motif. I'm trying to imitate the feeling of Hayashibara Megumi-san's Ayanami Rei, who has a fragile voice and tone, but actually has a strong core. When I saw the visuals afterwards, I was surprised at how unexpectedly large he was, and Saito Kenya-san, the Suit Actor, seemed alittle strong in his performance at first. I still played the role with a sense of fragility.

"Were you aware of any changes in Gerojim as you played him?"

Seki: Since Gerojim's only human relationship is basically with Jeramie, I was conscious of how their relationship was deepening. As he scolded Jeramie in episode 25, he doesn't just obey him, but he also became someone with whom he could properly criticize and rebuke. I tried to express the deepening of their relationship in this way.

"Now, we'd like to talk about Minongan Moth. When was it decided that Seki-san would play the second role of Minongan?"

Seki: After Gerojim had been around for some time, I received an offer to play another role. The Director chose me saying, "He's like Chewbacca from Star Wars, and since he doesn't talk much, I think it's fine playing a double role, so I'd like you to do it." However, I thought that if Gerojim and Minongan were to appear at the same time, and the opening credits showed that I was playing both roles, it would create the misconception that the characters were related. I told them, "It'd be fine if Minongan went uncredited," but in reality, they went to the trouble of separating them into two with, "Gerojim: Tomokazu Seki" and "Minongan: Tomokazu Seki." I thought, "It's emphasized even more, isn't it?" (laughs).

"What was your first impression of Minongan's character?"

Seki: He's big. He's a bagworm monster, but he's a white bagworm with pinkish tips that look like matchsticks. That's why I got the impression that he's a "matchstick" (laughs). Also, because he's a bagworm, I wondered if there was something inside. We had the nickname "Secrecy Minongan" from the beginning, but what he was hiding hadn't been determined yet. We were also talking about the possibility of another role if a stronger one emerged from inside him. There was a proposal to make it look like something was there, but there's nothing, and since it was clearly stated in episode 38 that "something's in there," that idea seems to have been dropped.

"How did you prepare for the role of Minongan?"

Seki: The character wasn't really defined yet, but I did keep the "Chewbacca like character" in mind that I was told about in the beginning. So, I began by looking at Chewbacca. I started thinking about how to express him with a cry like that. However, in episode 38, I was suddenly asked to imitate J.Y.Park (laughs).

"That was the Director's instructions, wasn't it?"

Seki: Yeah, it was absurd. When I read the script, I was surprised that Minongan, who had never spoken at all before, was suddenly speaking fluently, and I thought I was going to speak in the stiff voice that Minongan had always had. But during the dubbing, I was told, "Please forget Minongan's voice and speaking style and just imitate J.Y.Park" and, "Although the lines are written in the script, please do whatever you like without worrying too much." So I did research and did it that way. So, although it was an adlib, it was an adlib after being asked to do so.

"I see (laughs)."

Seki: After the recording session was over, I was told that "something" inside Minongan was getting smarter as he grew, which is how he was able to speak like that. If that was the case, it would've been nice if I could've at least made him speak the same way in the last part of episode 38 and after episode 39, but since I had to record the scene with Ishida Akira-san (who voices Dagded), I had to record the scene where he talks with Dagded in the last part of episode 38 first, so I wasn't able to do it. Only during the idol auditions did he suddenly become a character who talks alot. I regret that I failed abit in that part.

"Do you often record together with Dagded and the other members of the Uchu Five Jesters?"

Seki: As Minongan, I work with Ishida-san's Dagded and Miki Shinichiro-san's Kamejim, and as Gerojim, I worked with Shimura Tomoyuki-san's Desnarak VIII. In particular, Miki-san and Shimura-san seemed to be enjoying King-Ohger quite alot, because about an hour before the recording, they'd stand around the parking lot talking about things like, "I wonder what's going to happen next?" When I myself happened to arrive at the site early, the three of us would talk.

"For our interview with Miki-san in the previous issue (Uchusen Vol. 182), we could tell that he was enjoying this production. Seki-san, how do you view King-Ohger?"

Seki: I observed the filming in the early days of the series, and I think that the use of LED walls to film virtual productions was a major turning point for the series. The setting itself, in which the real world that we live is almost completely absent, is also new, and I feel that the detailed creation of the world through the use of such filming techniques is one of the best in the series. The footage of the Robo battle in the pilot episodes, with the roof tiles flying off piece by piece, was also very powerful, and left an impression on me.

"As a performer, were there any moments or scenes that have left an impression on you?"

Seki: It's got to be a scene between Gerojim and Jeramie. In episode 29, they both left to look at the night sky together. It's fun to play those kinds of scenes. Also, this was the first time I was able to ride in a Sentai Robo.

"God King-Ohger from episode 25, right?"

Seki: Many of the characters I've played in Super Sentai are villains, so being able to ride in a Robo on the hero side was a great memory. That's why episode 25 left a very strong impression on me.

"Even though this was your first time working in a Sentai Robo, we have the impression that you often appear in the series. Is there anything else you'd like to do in Super Sentai?"

Seki: Of course, I'd like to transform into a hero as myself atleast once. Recently, the age range of Super Sentai heroes has broadened, but it's still rare to see a hero in their 50s transforming. I'd like to play a warrior who's elderly or in the prime of their life

"What color would you like to change into?"

Seki: I think either brown or gray. Silver is fine, but I like brown warriors alot. I even want to do a "Brown Warriors Great Gathering" at Theater G-Rosso (laughs). There'd be Zusheen from "Choujin Bibyun," Ground Ninja from "Ninja Captor," and Sanagiman from "Inazuman." Actually, I haven't done many enemy bosses. I've only done it once with Kaiser Buldont in "Chouriki Sentai Ohranger." It's actually been awhile since I've played an enemy leader. It's been 26 years since I did Bibidebi from "Denji Sentai Megaranger." In particular, when it comes to "handsome" villains, I've only done Gaisoulg (Ryusoulger), so I'd like to do more cool enemy bosses and leaders. Of course, I'd like to also do transformation items again. It'll soon be 50 years since the birth of Super Sentai. I'd love to work on the transformation items of the Sentai at that time.

"You still have alot of things you'd like to do! So, is there anything you'd like to see happen in the future with King-Ohger?"

Seki: Gerojim's mimic ability, which appeared early on, hasn't been utilized much lately, so I'd like to see him take advantage of it. I'd like to see Gerojim change into Jeramie and protect the country while the real Jeramie goes out and takes care of bad guys. It'd be like a journey to reform the world in a period drama, in which Jeramie is active in the city, and Gerojim is trying his best as a shadow warrior, feeling like he'll be exposed.

"That sounds interesting. Now then, please tell us some future highlights of King-Ohger."

Seki: What's really inside Minongan? Is there really nothing? Since it's moths that emerge from bagworms, a very beautiful and elegant moth monster may emerge from within to torment the King-Ohger's with its scales. When the King-Ohger's attacks, a coat materializes and becomes a shield.

"Sounds strong. It's like he's the final boss."

Seki: That's right, he'll be the final boss. Well, this is all just my imagination (laughs), but please pay attention to him, as I want to make the King-Ohger's suffer as the enemy until the very end.

[eddiemunson-reader-shame]

A Freak and a Basket Case: Chapter Two: Made in Heaven

From the Delulu Writer: You’re going to realize that I don’t write short fics. This was straight from Google Docs mobile. I don’t know how long this is, so fuck it we ball. I’m hoping the generous Eddie POV helps break this aversion to longer fics.

Warnings: Flight of Icarus spoilers, references to drug use, minor suicide mention.

[Masterlist] - Chapter One - Chapter Two (You are Here) - [Latest]

***

The ’85-’86 academic year had to be his year.

It had to be.

It was his last shot. The last hoorah. He had just barely made the cutoff age for the academic year, and it was a miracle in itself that Principal Higgins had a modicum of decency to give him a break and let him even try to attend school again. He would be cutting it too close for comfort, and during the summer Eddie Munson had promised his uncle that he would get his head out of his ass this time around. No more screw ups. No more bullshit scams.

That promise was made in summer, when he was still able to sleep in, hotbox the feelings of shame and guilt away in his van, and gorge on junk food during unholy hours of the early morning before passing out until noon.

Now that he was being jolted awake by both the shrill sound of the radio alarm, and his uncle was kicking his mattress to wake him up at four thirty in the morning before he’d even gotten a good chance at sleep, Eddie was ready to throw in the fucking towel. Bitter thoughts swarmed in his mind.

Fuck it. Kick me out of school. See if I give two shits.

He was at the point where he was forgetting what was important. Last year was a year of losses. Almost losing the Hellfire Club to bullshit blackmail orchestrated by a sadistic son of a bitch of a principal that he did not fully trust. Ronnie had at least reached out via letter after a time, and she sent a few clipped sentences written with an electric typewriter all the way from New York whenever she had enough money left over from dorm expenses to buy postage stamps. But Dougie had gone nuclear. Never quite forgiving his friend for what he had almost undone.

And then there was Paige…

Eddie had been thinking of that mess nonstop the first day back for some reason, running late stuck behind a green Dodge with wood paneling while also battling the commuters during the clusterfuck that constituted rush hour in Hawkins, Indiana. He didn’t know why he was in such a hurry when that morning he’d been ready to give up all over again. Emotions were running high and low, he felt like he was trapped on a broken-down roller coaster falling apart on a shoddy side of the road carnival. Wanting to jump off, throw up, scream, and cry all at once as the reality of everything set in.

Eddie Munson had fucked everything up. Once in a lifetime opportunities lost to the ages in the year of 1984.

’86 had to be his year. Otherwise, he had nothing else left.

He was on his way to his locker when a string bean of a freshman wearing khakis and a button down polo from the GAP slammed into him from behind. Eddie immediately turned around to catch him before he hit the ground, asking the dazed boy if he was okay, confirming it was so, then looking towards the source. He assumed it was a jock, it always was, but he saw no suspicious hunter green letterman jackets lurking in the throng of students looking to get to their classes.

And then there was the gaggle of girls laughing and pointing, but he couldn’t see the object of their teasing because once he came within five feet of their gaggle they saw Eddie the Freak and bolted. So far the first day back was shaping up to be one of those weird days, whispers abound of some bitch of a basket case wandering around dressed for a cold front in August.

For obvious reasons, Eddie was intrigued. A bitch of a basket case was new. Especially ones wearing winter coats in summer when the humidity drowned you before the heat got to you. He doubted there was any merit to the rumors truth be told, but he had to see it for himself. He searched high and low, ditching his first period class to see if he could catch a glimpse. And then like an answer to his prayers he heard a siren call:

Metallica on cassette. Kill ‘Em All Album. Side 1. Approximately thirty nine minutes and six seconds into the album. Track number nine. Seek and Destroy.

Blasting so goddamned loud that from his distance it sounded faint, but he knew that whoever was listening to it directly would be deaf before their twenty-first birthday.

He saw you beelining for the front door, and instantly Eddie was fascinated by you. Sure enough you were all bundled up in your quilted Carhartt jacket like a blue collar worker braving a blizzard, gray skirt swishing as you power walked down the hall. The music beckoned to him, and the Black Sabbath patch on your blue backpack encouraged him to follow. Despite the stormy look on your face and the fuck off aura radiating from you, Eddie couldn’t help but allow the admiration to take over. He wasn’t intimidated, he wasn’t repulsed by your demeanor or appearance. Quite the contrary, Eddie could see something in the way your body communicated to the world:

You were a lost, pathetic little lamb trying to butt heads with everyone and everything, unaware that the world was fanged and scary and could spit you out in a malformed bolus should it desire.

And yet you still kept trying to fight back.

It was as if his body was moving of his own accord. His heart knew before his brain could logically process what was happening. A compulsion, his inner wild child, sent signals to his feet to quicken his pace as he raced after you, adrenaline coursing through him as he heard nothing but the steady pace of your gait matching the pulse of Seek and Destroy. Eddie didn’t stop until he was so close he was breathing in your scent, and in a sudden burst of confidence, both hands flashed out and snatched you by the backpack straps, pulling you in until you were flush against him. He yanked off your headphones, getting in close until his lips were grazing the shell of your ear.

“You’ve got bitchin’ taste in music there, princess. Metallica, right?”

Your scream cut off the last bit, and he held onto you like he was holding a wild stallion steady as you jumped nearly ten feet in the air. You were still pressed with your backpack to his chest, your own little chest heaving with fear.

“FUCK ME FREDDY!” You hollered. “You scared the shit out of me!”

Eddie laughed hard as he spun you around to face him, hands steadying your shoulders as he looked you in the eye with a large smile on his face.

“Sorry, sorry… Relax. Didn’t mean to scare you there. But hey, at least that got your attention, right?”

You hit the pause button on your Walkman and killed the music, looking up with a stormy and defiant expression. Eddie realized something when you looked at him: you had been hiding behind fear. Your eyes, minimized by the thick coke bottle lenses within the frames of your glasses, began to soften when you looked at him. He could see the tightly wound tension leave your body as you relaxed. Your facade was slipping. Before him was an individual army crawling through hell to survive.

“You uh… you heard my music huh?” you said quietly.

Eddie grinned, nodding enthusiastically.

“Oh yeah. From all the way down the hall. You like Metallica?” he asked.

“Uh huh…”

Eddie grinned at the shy answer. God… You were adorable.

“Hell yeah, good taste. Metallica is one of my favorites too.”

He noticed you weren’t much for eye contact. As much as he tried to meet your gaze you wouldn’t look right at him. It seemed as if you were closing yourself off from everyone, a purposeful and calculated act. Understandable if he was being honest. Your eyes were red rimmed and your nose was still dripping a little bit. The morning must not have been kind. For a moment he saw your vulnerability, and it endeared him to you.

“I’m Eddie, by the way.” he said gently, holding out his hand.

“Eddie?” You cocked your head to the side, sweet little face looking up at him as if expecting a trick.

“Yup.” he popped the consonant at the end, and he tried to give you a sweet disarming smile to show his sincerity, “That’s me, Eddie Munson.”

Gently, slowly, he felt your warm hand envelop his. He shook it just enough; not too firm of a handshake that he scared you off, but not so weak that it seemed he didn’t want to touch you. Because if the way his heart was racing at the feel of your warm palm against his was any indication, he very much did want to touch you, and he wanted to make sure you knew it.

A few seconds ticked by, and you finally told him your name after letting go of his hand. He noticed at first that you seemed to try saying something else, but you quickly corrected yourself. Eddie repeated your name slowly. It suited you. Very lovely. Silence for a beat, and then you gulped and spoke up to end the silence.

“My favorite person in the whole wide world is an Eddie…” you mumbled softly.

“Yeah? Who’s this other Eddie?” He raised an eyebrow, dimples showing with the big cheeser he had on his face as he noticed you still weren’t letting go of his hand.

“Eddie V-… Eddie Van Halen…” you stammered.

Eddie’s heart nearly stopped.

“No way, are you shitting me right now?” he demanded.

You shook your head.

“No… I’ve seen him live… he’s… he’s really cool.”

Inhale through the nose, hold for five seconds, exhale through the mouth so he didn’t start having a heart attack.

“How the hell did you end up going to one of those concerts?” He managed

“… my dad. Last year... He took me for an early birthday present…”

So you’ve got good taste in music, and you have a dad that takes you to concerts like Van Halen as an early birthday present…

“They were pit side. I got one of the shirts at my house.”

God dammit… No. There’s no way. There’s no way in the hell that you’re real…

“Which concert was it?” He croaks tentatively.

“The 1984 Tour… I saw them and Autograph play… in Albuquerque.”

He had to stop you right there.

“Okay wait hold on, your dad seriously took you out of Indiana all the way into the middle of nowhere in New Mexico just to see Van Halen for your birthday?! Where in hell do you even live where that seems like a feasible option?! That’s a twelve hour drive at least!”

“I used to live in New Mexico.” You said softly. “I’m not from here…”

Yeah, yeah of course you weren’t from Hawkins. There was no way in shit someone as cool as you, someone who had been pit side to Van fucking Halen, could be from Indiana. It almost gave him flashbacks to shades of his ex, and he nearly wanted to pull away from the conversation. Yet you were so sweet, so different, and he knew if he let you just become a random anecdote in the annals of time, Eddie would have thrown up for weeks and then jumped into traffic if he saw you being poached by someone else.

He pressed on. Heart racing and trying to maintain so that he didn’t spook you.

“Could have fooled me, you don’t have the accent for it.” Eddie said, leaning up against one of the tan lockers.

You hesitated and bit your lower lip, nodding and rocking side to side on your feet as you began to pluck at the loose threads of your jacket.

“… people here don’t like to hear it. So I cover it up…” you said.

“Good idea. Because honestly, it’s not worth the trouble… You’re in Hicksville now. Hawkins isn’t the first narrow minded white bread town, and it’s not going to be the last. Especially if you don’t fit in with their good ol’ boys club mold. Hell, I don’t even fit in it. I’m the biggest target for these bigoted assholes with my reputation. I don’t doubt you’ll get the same amount of bullshit I do.”

“You…?” You blinked, confusion written on your face, “Why would anyone make fun of you?”

Harsh laughter erupted from his throat, and he was so consumed by the absurdity of your question that he didn’t notice you flinch back. As if he was being crucified, Eddie held out his arms dramatically wide, his battle vest opening up to show off his Led Zeppelin baseball tee with a couple of holes in the fabric where the rivets on his jeans had been rubbing against them.

“Take a good look at The Freak of Hawkins High sugarplum. I’m a long haired satan worshiping metalhead cult leader. I play shitty Pantera and Slayer covers in a dive bar every week. I deal drugs to the preppy kids that have more money than sense. I lure innocents in to play my little satanic Dungeons and Dragons games, and then I hotbox it in my van afterwards with them. I’m a Munson, furthest thing from a good little schoolboy. No, no, we Munsons drop out of high school and go to jail young, and probably die young too.”

He went on and on, the word vomit not stopping. If he was going to be honest with himself, he knew this potential thing you two had was dead on arrival from the moment you opened your mouth and started talking about Van Halen. You were way out of his league, even by metalhead standards. From what he gathered, you had deep pockets, or at least your dad did if he was able to take you to shit like Van Halen concerts, something Eddie could only dream of. Everything about this was scary. It was scary and horrifying and the only thing he could think of doing was self sabotaging before he got too attached to you.

And then you frowned, still looking at the floor, until you spoke up, looking him directly in his eyes.

“That doesn’t make no sense… Sounds like a bunch of horseshit to me.” You said simply.

He watched it all happen so suddenly and he couldn’t look away. His large brown eyes widening and his heart turning cartwheels in his chest when he saw the little twinkles of light, the little pinpricks of stars beginning to glimmer in your eyes as you held direct eye contact with him. It wasn’t just that you were cute, because Jesus H. Christ you were the cutest thing he’d ever seen in his life. There were other things he’d never seen on anyone he’d dated: honest to god romance novel pining on your face, your soft lips parting slightly as if you wanted to speak but had lost the words. Your body moved in closer to him, and his own reciprocated purely on instinct, inviting you into his space.

Magnetism.

“None of it makes any sense does it?” He said, voice so low you had to lean further in to hear him, “But this is Hawkins. Judgemental jackanapes abound and people like you and me are lambasted for the crime of being different. Double for you I’m guessing, since you’re the new Hispanic kid in town.”

You nodded, looking hopefully at him.

“Let me guess, you had an easier time fitting in when you were in New Mexico, right?” He asked.

There was a brief hesitation as you gathered your thoughts.

“… Kind of. Maybe not towards the end, but there’s a lot of guys into heavy metal and leather and stuff. A lot of my tios- my uncles- are rockers. My brother likes it too.”

“Older or younger brother?” He asked.

“Older…”

“He get you into metal?” He grinned.

“Yeah.” You said, nodding, “He started me on Black Sabbath and Ozzy, my favorites other than Van Halen. My dad was the one who showed me Van Halen… oh, and Dio…”

“Rad… your dad and your brother got you set up with the best of the best. You have some of the most badass taste in music in all of Hawkins right now.” Eddie praised, and he’d wished he had complimented you sooner, because now that he saw you smile and giggle at his compliments he couldn’t get enough, “… and that’s a hell of a smile you’ve got there sweetheart. And a pretty laugh to match.”

“Quit it…” you giggled.

“Hell no, you can’t just tell me to quit it the second I give you a compliment. Gotta take the compliments where you get them.”

There was that smile, that goddamned cute giggle. The reaction he wanted. You covered up your mouth as you began to uncontrollably laugh, as if you’d taken a fat hit of reefer and had the permanent giggles. He loved people like you, who acted high and giggly without any external help. But he didn’t like how you were trying to hide those teeth from him. He wanted to see it. Wanted to see your smile and bask in the good feeling it gave him.

“Ah ah, none of that!” He scolded, holding up a finger, “You quit hiding that pretty face from me. What? You don’t want me to see it?”

“Nuh uh!” You giggled.

A devilish grin came over Eddie’s face.

“You gonna make me get forceful, sweetheart?”

“Noooooo…!” You whined, laughing harder as you shook your head quickly.

“Cut it out then. Put that damn hand down, lemme see that pretty face.”

Eddie began to wrestle your hand away from your face as you squealed in delight, shrinking in on yourself as he let out a mad giggle. He was enjoying this, enjoying the feeling of touching you and not having his face slapped or being punched in the stomach. You welcomed his touch, almost craved it, flying into a fit of hysterical laughter when he played dirty and grabbed your sides, tickling your soft plump abdomen so that you were forced to move your hands away from your face to shield your belly.

At the end of it, Eddie was breathless with laughter, holding your sides and swaying with you. Coming down from your fun, he saw your smile for the first time. No pearly whites. He could see the flaws and imperfect teeth as you smiled ear to ear.

Real recognizes real…

You are very much real. Very much so. You’re warm and soft and real underneath his fingertips.

“Princess,” he breaths.

You cock your head, swaying side to side and your grin never leaves your face.

“There we go.” He says softly, stroking your sides, “There’s that beautiful smile. See? Much better when you’re not hiding it behind your hands.”

Your eyes sparkled, starry eyes…

He’d only ever seen hungry eyes before. Only ever been desired like one desired a succulent steak or a rich slice of cake. Last year felt like he was giving up so many vital aspects of himself that he almost felt like an imposter when he kept trying to have a better year, a shot at a better life. Everyone had taken from him last year, gnawing at the bones of his corpse until there was nothing left.

Paige looked at me like she wanted to eat me…

But you…

You look at Eddie Munson as if you are awestruck by him, and as shocking as the feeling is, it makes him feel beautiful for a split second. He feels important. He feels valued, like he’s been the epitome of good alignment his whole life and the chaotic parts don’t matter. You look at him like you’re seeing a mythical hero. As if your village was burning to the ground all around you and he’d just come in the nick of time, clad in mithril armor, immune to the flames and devastation and ready to swoop you up to your feet.

But that defiance when you first faced him, the fire in you, it’s a strength, it’s a power he is drawn to. Realistically he knows if he were to swoop in it wouldn’t be to save you, it would be to help you pick up your own sword and fight alongside him.

He wanted that. He wanted someone to fight life’s battles alongside him.

He wanted that someone to be you.

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

THE NIGHT BELONGS TO YOU (bonus chapter)

BLADE X FEM READER FANFIC, +18, smut

MASTERLIST

Bonus chapter of my Blade x reader fanfic, stay tuned in for the rest soon. It's pretty wholesome overall (found family trope with stellaron hunters etc). This part contains mostly spice and massaging Blade's hands for him, reader knows Blade for a long time already and they have close relationship. I think Blade is slightly OOC here.

It's my first fanfic and english is not my first language, so I'm sorry if it sucks. I NEED CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM.

Enjoy my first contribution to the fandom!

BONUS CHAPTER, All of Eden’s vices running through my veins

Pink, silk nightgown hugged y/n’s body in all the right places, lace barely covered flawless skin of her cleavage and upper part of her thighs. She always found it hard to sleep in summer heat as a native of Arkona, land known for it’s cold winds and snowy  mountains, so she gravitated towards skimpy clothing in most heated months of the year. Even winter here felt kinda warm to her, she used to walk outside without a jacket, just in a thick hoodie. Kafka tried to put her winter coat around Arkonian each time she saw her dressed like that, y/n found it very cute. She lived with Stelaron Hunters for over a year now, and despite their bad reputation she has never in her life felt more cared for and accepted. If somebody told her a year ago she will be baking Oak Cake Rolls using supersoldier mechasuit alongside friends, taking violin lessons from one of the most dangerous women in the universe or playing Tekken with overambitious young hacker while getting roasted by a hot immortal Y/N would advice them to go see a doctor.  

She looked at herself in the mirror, braiding her hair so they won’t warm her up further during her slumber. Her fingers worked fast, agile and flexible like branches of weeping willow despite going through hardships of martial arts training she went under Blade’s supervision. Halfway through, her attempt at classic hairstyle got interrupted by knocking on the door, audible despite music she put on in the background. Displeased, she secured it with a band and got up. The moment the door opened and revealed her male coworker there was nothing left of her sour mood. 

His red eyes looked her up and down, Blade was too done with bullshit today to check her out in less obvious way.  His hair was put up with elegant chanhua hairpin, decorated with delicate white flower ornament. It wasn’t a big change in his appearance, but it surely was eye-catching. He seemed more beautiful, majestic like a heron in flight with his hair up. Y/n sighed, impressed by his good looks and dignified aura. 

He was the first one to break the silence. He cleared his throat and spoke as nonchalantly as he only could in his rough voice. 

 - Good evening y/n, I just returned from work. I came here to check up on my apprentice and drop something off. I bought a gift for you during my last mission on Jarilo-VI, from famous local seller named Sampo. - he gave her the plastic bag he was hiding behind his back with slightly trembling hands. - I think you will appreciate it, you mentioned your willingness to use your massaging skills a few times so far. 

 - Hi dear. What kind of occasion is this? - she laughed a little. 

 - No occasion, I just saw it among other things he offered and thought about you. - he admitted with straight face. 

Arkonian thanked him and grabbed the bag. A little bit suspicious, she reached inside it and pulled out a small glass bottle filled with shiny liquid. Golden dust floating on top of it shimmered when she shook it. Attached label with a note written in cursive informed her that this substance is allegedly a massage oil.  

Y/n decided to check it just in case, she heard enough about Sampo and his scamming habits to not trust it carelessly. She opened the bottle and sniffed it. Pleasant lemon and bergamot scent hanged in the air. Hmm, not bad. Maybe Blade was 100th customer on that day and actually got a good quality bonus. 

 - Do you like it? - Blade attentively checked her face for reaction.  

 - To be honest I absolutely love it. - she admitted cheerfully. - But please, do not trust Koski too much in the future, trading with him is like a russian roulette. He can give you precious stuff or completely rip you off for a fake. 

- Good to know. - he took a mental note to check everything twice next time he visits this merchant. - Will you let me in? All this traveling around the galaxy really has worn me out. 

Y/n blushed heavily, only now did she realise she didn’t invite him inside her bedroom. 

 - Of course, make yourself comfortable. - she sat down on the bed, patting the mattress on the right side of her body. He closed the door behind himself before taking place next to her.  

 - So... How have you been when I was on the go? Did you behave yourself? No more cursing swords for now? - stellaron hunter spoke in low voice, coming off a bit strict. 

Y/n sighed and  rolled her eyes.  

 - I have been a good girl, don’t you worry man. - Blade cringed visibly at her words. She lied to him but he will surely have better occasion to learn about it soon enough. Arkonian was not in the mood for his preaching now. - How was work? Any unpleasant surprises? 

 - You know, with Elio’s gift it’s already very hard to be taken by surprise, now we also have your visions. Why do you worry so much? - he was quick to dismiss her anxiety. 

 - I still remember how our first mission went. It’s not entirely unpleasant memory, after all we got so much closer to each other that day. - gentle smile adorned her face as she blushed unknowingly, recalling past events. - Yet, you did get hurt badly that day. Can you blame me for reacting like that? 

 - Since that one time we had no such incidents, however it does not make your concern any less valid. - he admitted. Awkward silence has set in, sated with unvoiced desires. He felt it was him who should break it, now or never. - I didn’t come here to discuss business matters. In fact, I hoped you could help me unwind. It was such a long week. - his voice came out a bit suggestive. Was this really the same guy who used to barely speak in her presence months ago and scoffed at her endeavors to get closer?  

 - It’s so bad that you prefer to be distracted from it over confiding in me? - Y/n raised one of her eyebrows.  

 - Exactly. Speaking of which, don’t you think it’s a good moment to put your new ointment to the test? - he gestured towards oil bottle she held in her hand. Y/n still was not used to him being so direct with his wants, it took her a few seconds to process his request.  

- Are you sure this is what you want? - she whispered, looking him straight in the face. With the kind of injuries he had survive she didn't know if she could truly help him with lingering pain and stiffness, but she definitely knew that nothing can be done to help him in long term either way. 

- Yes, it's worth a shot. Don't worry, I don't expect much to begin with. - he sighed. - Why ask, wasn't it you who convinced me to do this so many times? You got cold feet? 

- No, it's just... - she exhaled softly, shifting in place. - Thank you for trusting me. 

She took his palm in hers tentatively, noticing  Blade had no gloves on. He normally avoided taking them off, but it wasn't her first time inspecting old scars on his skin. They covered his hands densely, she recalled patching up some of those wounds. He compared their fingers, slightly smirking at how big he looked like in comparison to her. One of her hands found elegant oil bottle, she let few drops fall on the top of his left hand, then she spread it over the top of it. With round, gentle moves she caressed it, avoiding his eyes. Then she rubbed each of his long, thick fingers separately, stretching them out. Calloused skin and rigid joints hardly submitting to her attempts at relaxing them.  

Shimmering dust made his scars stand out even more, they were like cracks on his porcelain skin. Arkonian once heard of Kintsugi, art of repairing broken pottery by mending it back with gold. But she was not delusional, Blade was not to be whole ever again, no amount of care could glue him back together. She knew, and she accepted him the way he was. Fragments of what was left of him put together by cruel fate like a stained glass, equally sharp and fragile. Legendary craftsman's last masterpiece bursting at the seems, burdened with weight of unforgivable sin. 

Music in the background switched to Sweather weather by The neighbourhood when she turned his palm upside down, once again intertwining their fingers as she rotated his hand while securing it with her other one to loosen up his wrist, then she used both her hands to stretch his out backwards as her thumbs rubbed from the middle of his palm to the sides, opening it up and relaxing every muscle. He felt horribly stiff under her fingers but she expected this already, aware of his past injuries. Arkonian just hoped she could bring him some alleviation from chronic pain, even tho his dexterity will never return. 

 Concentrated on doing her job as well as she only could, she missed his lazy grin and warm, full of lust gaze fixated on her face. Even little sighs of relief getting out his throat when she dug into the meat between his thumb and index finger escaped her attention. He hasn't been touched in tender way for so long, past centuries of his life consisted mostly of silent prayers for death among endless battles, constant suffering and countless cuts from his enemies weapons. Those few who were somehow kind to him still avoided touching his broken body, afraid of mara lurking inside him like a rabid dog. Blade melted into pleasant, warm sensation more and more, he felt way too relaxed for his own good. Being physical usually felt like a sin, state of his flesh a punishment for his crimes, pain it's burning reminder - yet, in that moment with her, his body hesitantly shed it's defences, out of his newfound comfort something grew, deep in his abdomen, heat slowly spreading over him, clouding his mind. With all her curves on display in a nightgown Blade still felt most tempted by those soft lips she unconsciously licked when she focused on him. If he made a move would she look at him with disgust and turn away?  

When he looked in the mirror all he saw was disfigured abomination but y/n looked at him like he was someone. Like he wasn't defected, turned into a monster. He wanted to believe that he is the man she saw in him, to smash every mirror in this damn place and only seek answers about himself in her eyes, that now stared back at him. Her lips slightly parted, skin glistening with sweat, and those wide doe eyes. So sweet, so soft... Seemingly in his reach. He could not ignore this thirst any longer.  

Gently, he pulled her to himself by the hand she caressed him with, when her fragrant body landed in his lap his lips found her fingers. He planted passionate kiss on every knuckle, massage oil covering her palm made his lips softer and more juicy. Arkonian couldn't stop herself anymore as well, she kissed him with all the hunger she cultivated in herself over months spent together. She knew he was not used to affection and receiving kisses, so she lead it, but Blade was just as enthusiastic, deepening it and turning his tongue around hers. 

 They grinded against each other slowly, to the rhythm of the music. Y/n could barely hear Sugar by Sleep Token playing in the background when sounds of heavy breathing and Blade's grunts filled the room. It was way too hot for her in this place, she quickly took of her nightgown, now sat on top of him only in drenched lace panties. His reaction was worth more than any words he could express his desire and admiration for her body with, y/n had no doubts she was just his type when he looked at her with pure wonder. 

 His hair was messy, hairpin disappeared somewhere just like all his mental restraints. He teased her with his fingertips through delicate fabric, her thighs throbbed in response. She let him rip her panties off of her. Those big, calloused fingers massaged her so well, stretching her tight hole deliciously, but could they prepare her for this big thing she felt growing in his pants? Just thinking about it made her so wet slick dripped down his palm. 

Blade reluctantly took his hand away to lick it off his fingers. He wanted to taste her for a while now, and with satisfaction he found out she was just as sweet as she looked like. Perfect fruit to rip and devour. He wanted to command her to sit on his face and ride it roughly, he would hold her down firmly so she couldn't get up until she would come at least twice. Wanted to show her he was good enough. Before he managed to turn those thoughts into reality she already took his hard manhood out of his clothes. 

- You know, maybe I could give you a special massage? - she winked at him, spraying some oil on it, then spread it with her both hands, one on top, teasing the tip, another near the base. Her hands moved in opposite directions as she gripped him and massaged his swollen member in circular motion. Whimper left his throat, shocking them both. He didn't even know how touch-starved he was, having only his sword to cling to for all those years, until she touched him, every cell of his wanted to beg for more. She rubbed over the vein under his dick with just the right amount of pressure. Her skilled hands played with him for minutes, discovering sensitive points he was not even aware of, but when Blade felt his orgasm approaching he stopped her movements.  

- I don't want to cum yet, I need to feel you around me first. Come here. - his husky voice giving her orders made her even wetter than she was before, way more than she thought was possible. He picked her up and put her right above his member, she carefully slid it inside of her inch after inch, there was no rush.  

- I know I am big, give yourself some time. - he encouraged her. No matter how much he just wanted to slam into her with full strength, her pleasure was more important to him. What was the point if she didn't enjoy it? He was never a gentle type but for her he wanted to be. She was still so fragile.  

While her body adjusted to his impressive length she took off his shirt, leaving him in unbuttoned pants only. In a second his pale, muscular chest  glistened with sweat and oil from her hands cause she just had to feel that men up. Pupils of his eyes widened at the sight of her breasts so close to his face. He sucked on them passionately basking in softness of her flesh, she giggled in response and stroked his head affectionately. They cuddled for a bit in that position, her cunt clenching around him while he rubbed circles over her back soothingly. Y/n was the first to move, slowly grinding into his hips and kissing his shoulders. She felt so safe and taken care of and so did he. Blade let her set her own pace for now, in fact he would let her do absolutely anything she wished for to him.  

Walls he built around his heart were near impenetrable, but once somebody got inside immortal warrior became defenceless against their whims, if he only could he would give them every star in the sky, even if he would never admit it aloud. He was always like that, back during High Cloud Quintet times he used to give his friends priceless weapons as a token of friendship, even now he had a hard time saying no when he went outside with his dear coworkers, always purchasing a new coat for Kafka, buying so many games for Wolfie that Kafka scoffed at them, agreeing to this annoying nickname he was given or even giving up his private cellphone for them. 

Blade despite all that never considered himself taken advantage of, it was clear none of those close to him would ever see him as a mere idiot to manipulate or a toy, after all such privileges were reserved for the most trusted people only. He cherished all their respect, yet for a long time he was unable to find any crumb of reverence for his broken being in himself. He called himself Blade, and it was easier for him to live believing he was nothing more than a tool of the fate, pain was a little bit more bearable for a broken masterpiece to take than it was for a man with great ambitions and ruined dreams whom he barely recalled and neither could or wished to be again.  

Blade is made to be used, powerless without the hand that guides it, created only to bring pain and bloodshed, yet now his body was harnessed for completely different purpose. Woman on top of him released heavenly moans each time she went down on his erected cook, her lips parted in a way that made him want to kiss her desperately once again, her eyes filled with hunger and pure adoration. He couldn't imagine his corrupted body had a potential to be a source of bliss to a woman or man anymore, last memories of such activities shared with friends from Quintet were barely vivid in his mind. Since his body was pierced a thousand times by his previous mentor he couldn't stand physical proximity of anybody, lightest touch made him tense up. During his trainings with Arkonian he grew accustomed to her closeness but the ease he took her touch with bewildered him. How easy she was to crave, to need, to take over his mind. How easy it was to not think anymore, to let her use him for her own pleasure, to be utilized for something else than spreading pain and misery for once.  

He took pride in her praises, opened himself to this new role, found fulfilment in it. Blade rubbed her tired hips up and down when she bounced on him, all sweaty, hot and blushing. So, so beautiful. She clenched on him, close to her orgasm. He needed her to cum for him, to sing his name even more. In attempt to earn more of her sweet reactions he thrust up into her. Slow, deep and very, very hard. This immediately pushed her over the edge. 

Y/n whimpered in a straight up angelic way, squirting all over his abdomen when his seed filled her hole. Orgasm hit Blade with all force of instincts denied for centuries, almost knocking him out. Addictive, ecstatic feeling shook his whole body, coercing moans out of his throat. His head fell on y/n's shoulder, and she brushed through his hair with her fingers, scratching his scalp and neck.  

 Libido  seemingly starved to death through centuries of neglecting primal needs once again woke up in him. In that moment he knew, it was not enough. He needed to take care of her perfectly fuckable, receptive, soft and welcoming body as well as his own desires till none of them could stand up. Inhaling her inviting scent his fingers dug into warm, delicate flesh of her hips when he carefully pulled her underneath him, his cook already hard again.  

Her skilled fingers reached out to feel his torso again, she put it carefully over his biggest scar, where his heart should be, unnaturally cold sensation of his sweaty skin grounded her. His palm covered her smaller hand, so delicate in comparison to his wide chest. She was not a petite woman by any means, her body was strong and used to harsh conditions of her home planet, but she could not lie, she loved how much bigger than her Blade was. How he towered over her, could embrace her in a way that made her feel completely protected and hidden in his muscular arms, like he did just now pressing her to bed with his body.  

Both his hands grabbed hers and pinned them down to the mattress, her thighs embraced his midriff.  She sated herself with him, engulfed in his smell she forgot the outside world, only two of them mattered now. Her form trembled underneath him when he moved, now much more decisively, fast and precise thrust slowly but surely emptying her brain from all unnecessary thoughts and worries, driving her crazy. 

His penetrating gaze never left her face, making sure there was no sign of discomfort or rejection.  But there was only satisfaction and invitation in her eyes, and for the first time in years he allowed himself to want something else than revenge and death, just for tonight. But deep down Blade knew it's not a one time thing, not when it feels so right. Not when he finally got a taste after convincing himself for months that it would be the best for everyone involved if he pretends Y/n is just a coworker to him, not a woman he dreams of each night before falling asleep. 

She hissed when his lips and fangs brushed over her pulse point. Poor y/n will have to cover up some hickeys in the morning, or who cares, he would simply tell her to keep them on sight, it's not like nobody can hear her cries. His steady, merciless pace made her climax way sooner than she expected, even so close to his own release he kept his rhythm. Her nails scratched his back harshly, but none of them worried if they will leave marks. This sensation combined with the way she clenched around him pushed him to his own orgasm. Praises y/n moaned into his ear went straight to his head, she shamelessly let him know just how much she loves what he does to her, how she wants him to never ever stop, how handsome and talented he is, how capable of making her cum harder than she ever did before for anybody else. He fucked her through her high with cocky smile on his face.  

As both of them calmed down he still moved inside her, giving y/n last few pushes, slow and gentle, as if he wanted to soothe her. Orgasmic haze faded away, leaving them with clear minds and sated bodies. Soon after her breathing evened out he pulled out kissing her forehead and picked his clothes up from the floor.  

- I thought you would stay with me - Arkonian barely managed to hide how hurt she was by the fact, that he just stood up instead of cuddling with her.  

- I will, but first do me a favour and put this on. - he passed her his shirt. - I don't want you to get sick and that's what will happen if you sleep in this thin lingerie of yours. 

- If I put this on will you come here? - she whined at him, pouting slightly.  

- You don't need to ask me twice. - Blade smiled at her. It looked a bit awkward.  

Y/n sighed in defeat and let him wrap way too big shirt around her, next he lied down by her side and covered them with a blanket. Not even a minute passed and she was out like a light. Blade admired how peacefully she slept in his arms, knowing damn well if something happened to her he would set whole known universe ablaze. Thought itself made his heart ache more than his hands did, unexpectedly y/n's massage indeed somehow alleviate the pain a little bit. He probably should ask her to do this more often, especially if it could end up with their bodies entangled once again. 

For now he decided to watch over her sleep and guard her through the night. He was well aware of her strength, she was more than able to protect her own self after hours of practicing martial arts with him, but sheltering Y/N from harm personally made him feel like he was doing a good job for his favourite girl. Sight of her in his shirt, smelling like him, covered in his marks with his semen dropping out of her made him feel like he claimed her in a way and it made him want to keep her safe and spoil her till she is ruined for other man cause nobody can satisfy her as well as he can.  

He wished he could enter her mind to learn all her deepest fantasies and cravings to fulfill them one by one so she needs him as much as he needed her. Perhaps she already did, y/n always considered him no matter what she was about to do, as if he was at all times on her mind. Took care of his wounds after missions and never judged him, never asked him to be somebody else. Never took advantage of his kindness or used any of his secrets against him, even in anger. Something so basic yet so rare nowadays. Y/n knew he yearned to rest in eternal peace but decided to cherish him either way without trying to fix those unrepairable parts of him or using him to feed any sort of saviour complex. Whenever he craved her company whether he was willing to admit that or not, she was always there for him, with cup of warm tea, bunch of bandages just in case and ready to listen about his struggles, always so understanding and nonjudgemental, his confidant, his true tranquillity. Flowing over him like holy water, washing away suffocating feelings inherited from his past.  Therefore in return he decided to give her the last years of his life and spend them well, making sure she's happy and secure. 

Blade promised this to himself with crescent moon above them as a witness, inspecting how it's soft light blessed y/n's features with ethereal glow. One thing he was sure of - once the time to join his fallen foxian friend in afterlife comes, y/n will understand and let him go with no resentment, but until then he will stay by her side like a silent protector, with red thread of fate binding them to each other, not as destiny's slaves but as it's choosers. 

[nervoushottee]

Flaws and All CH. 1 | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Series

Warnings: Violence, guns, blood, cuts, regular ole the last of us shit.

Note: Had so much fun writing this. I’ve been working nonstop and haven’t had anytime to write but I am so happy I was able to get this out.

(Not edited at all so sorry not sorry just wanted to get this out of my head)

Series Masterlist

—————

Chapter 1

Winter was a deadly beast.

Depending on what side of the planet you’re on, it could be your saving grace or the demon within. The cold weather could bring frost bitten limbs, harsh winds and even death. Or it could be a glimpse of pure joy, excitement and tranquility.

And for you? You were honestly hoping it'd be your escape. The both of you were.

But all in all, right now you couldn’t feel your fucking fingers. And you were sure as hell that Joel couldn’t either. No matter how many grunts and grumbles that came from indicating that he was okay. It was just two words that he was saying to himself to help warm his chest.

You could hardly tell what time it was. With clouds filled with snow covering the sun leaving a tint of grey and white. You just hoped that you had a few more hours before nightfall.

Joel was in front of you, his dark green coat covering his back. His head hunched over a bit as he walked. Map in hand as he continues his stride.

“How long now?” You ask the man in front of you. He slows his pace for you to catch up with him. Your boots trudging in the cold snow. “Not far out.” He says to you simply. You sigh at his short response.

This is how it was with you two since leaving. Short and sweet conversations. Quiet nights, and even quiet walks.

You couldn’t tell if it was because you were still strangers to one another or that it was because he simply didn’t like you.

You were hoping it wasn’t the latter.

From what you noticed, Joel was a quiet man.

The two of you met on a whim. A fast chaotic and last minute decision. A quick change that maybe somehow was fate.

The settlement the two of you were in turned sour fast. What you thought was a decent place with decent rules of living turned into hell on earth in just two weeks. You and Joel were neighbors. Living in the same apartment and from time to time you would bump into each other during the day.

A simple “good morning” or “good night”. Or a “morning” or “night” on Joel’s end. Nothing but simple pleasantries between two people.

But one night, you woke up to the sound of glass breaking. Which probably wouldn’t be such a nervous thing with how the world was now. But this sounded a bit too close for comfort.

You had accidentally slept on the couch the night before and your living room window gave you a full view of what was happening within the streets.

There were people in the streets, screaming and killing each other. Matzel tovs were being thrown into apartment buildings. Nail bombs at the front doors of the makeshift stores people created for the community. You could hear the sound of women screaming. Men, bandits, laughing.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Slowly in fear of not making any sudden movements for someone to see you through the window you quickly throw your jacket back on that you had dropped on the floor.

Thankful that you fell asleep still in the clothes your worn that day.

You were always an overthinker. Since birth it was something that was engraved in you whether you liked it or not. Even worse with how shitty life was. But despite its negative causes it had on your life, there were certain times where you were thankful for it.

The bag you brought into the settlement on your first day here was still packed with things. You didn’t pack out everything into the dusty closets or old dressers slowly starting to mildew. You would simply take out each thing you needed for the day and put it back at night.

You would rinse and repeat this method until you had lived here for a month. That was your plan. That was your routine. But life doesn’t always go to plan. You hurriedly put your boots back on. One already snug on your left foot.

The urge to keep your bag close came over you and you quickly limped through your bedroom door to retrieve it. But the minute you opened the door to your room. You were greeted with the reason you heard the broken glass in the first place.

A masked man broke into your bedroom.

He had a knife in one hand and your bag in the other. The pack was open and you could see the contents you had in there were swished around. Probably from him rummaging through it for anything of value for him to take.

That bag was like a pot of gold to anyone desperate enough.

But at the sight of you, his need to steal your bag was washed. A new need in mind as he dropped your bag to the floor. He storms over to you with his knife raised. You gasp at how quickly everything happens.

You’re slamming the bedroom door to his face but it doesn’t stagger him. You run to your kitchen area in a panic. A shriek leaving your throat as you run and go beside your table. You push it with all of your might into the stranger who simply laughs at your attempt to stop him.

He laughs like this is a joke to him. Like he’s play a game of cat and mouse. You knew if he catched you, that death would be more favorable than whatever ideas he had in mind. You could see his hunger in his eyes.

He continues forward walking toward you slowly until he has you cornered. And if you had any mind to do so you could hit him with something. Grabbed a knife from the kitchen. Hit him with your other shoe. Anything.

But it was too late to think about that. All you could think about now is trying not to die. Trying to stop whatever he would do to you before that if you could. And in this moment you thought that dying would be more of a blessing than a curse.

He charged at you which causes you to scream. Using all your might to push him off of you. Grabbing the knife quickly before he plunged it into your shoulder. You shriek at the intense pain of the knife slicing through your gripped palm.

You were trying so hard. Kicking and pushing using all the strength you could. But you didn’t think it would be enough. You knew it wouldn’t. In the end, he sadly had the upperhand. He was bigger than you and caught you by suprise.

And you were going to fucking die. With a final scream you almost accepted your fate. But the immediate force of your front door getting kicked down gave you a glimpse of hope.

Joel had seen what was happening outside his apartment window. Started grabbing his own things same as you did. And was a few feet out of his door before he had heard you scream and didn’t waste a second to come help you.

Both you and the masked man froze from the sudden intrusion. Which gave Joel enough time to shoot the man dead. The shot rang out, the man falling to the floor. His blood splattering against your face. The heavy sets of breathing leaving your mouth.

Joel walked over to you and bent down to your level. You didn’t realize til then that the man had you basically on the floor fighting for your life was dead.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his eyes trailing your face. “Are you hurt?”

You swallowed, still in shock for all that had happened so quickly. “My hand.” You croaked out. Your throat is sore from how loud you were screaming.

Joel nodded his head looking at your bloody palm. “Can you stand?” You nodded as you grasp the hand Joel extends to you. Your injured one curled against your chest, throbbing from pain.

“Get your stuff, we’re leaving.” He said to you.

We’re leaving.

After a few seconds of letting what he said register you limped over back to your room to grab your bag. Some of the items spilled out on the floor and you hurriedly pushed it back inside. You finally put on your second shoe and see Joel staring out your window. “What’s going on?” You say to him hoarsely.

Joel shakes his head without turning to you. His eyes still looking at the streets of the settlement. “Not sure. More or less Raiders, a big group of them. Wanting something like this. It was easy pickings with a settlement so small. With the mask on that guy I think I’m right.” Joel turns to you. Giving you a once over look. “You ready?”

You hadn’t even realize his attire. His green jacket in over his body. A bag of his own around both of his arms. And a rifle strapped on his shoulder.

You nod your head at the question.

With your confirmation, Joel starts to walk out of your apartment. Muttering for you to follow him. And you did exactly that.

That was four days ago.

Now here you both were. Walking in the snow to get to wherever the hell Joel was looking at the map for.

“There.” He spoke up. He points to the gas station in the far distance. You squint your eyes to see it better. It wasn’t far but it wasn’t close either. Still you couldn’t wait to get out of the cold. You doubt the gas station would even have electricity, so it would more than likely still be cold. But being cold in a shelter is better than nothing.

“Let’s go then.” You pushed ahead of Joel, walking toward the faint view of the building in front of you. Joel eventually catching up to you with a fiew long strides.

“So what’s the reason why we’re going here?”

You finally speak up. Turning your head to the man who saved you nearly days before.And granted you probably should’ve asked him that three days ago. But the trek to get up here was too dangerous as is.

The settlement was smackdown in the middle of a small city. So it took about two days to get out of there on foot. Hiding from raiders, killing any infected you saw along the way. Joel was very smart and skilled in both departments. There wasn’t much talk for what happens next. The priority was getting out of there.

When those days passed, you both were finally out of the city and there was nothing but greenery for miles. You were too exhausted to speak from all the walking you did. Your palm throbbing with pain every step of the way.

On the third night, the temperature dropped. By morning of the fourth day, it was snowing.

So as you both walked the snow dusted trail you felt like it was a good as time as any to ask him questions. “A guy that I knew before I stayed at the settlement has a radio. Marked my map with a few spots of where another might be just in case I would ever need to contact him.” He explains.

You contemplate what he says as the two of you reach the gas station. Joel turns to you, looking briefly at your empty hands. A silent statement for you to be armed and on your guard.

You grab the pistol that he had given to you to use and a flash light from your pack in the other hand. You twist your hands and wrists on top of each other. Both gun and flashlight in hand, aimed and ready to use.

You were hardly a good shot. It takes a few times to actually shoot a target from afar on a good day. But fear and survival have a good way of showing us what exactly we are capable of in certain moments.

Your wrapped palm hated the harsh tug you had on your gun, but it was the least of your worries. You nod your head towards Joel as he starts to pry the door open. The cold air causing it to need more force than it probably would have.

You check your surroundings as Joel struggles with the door. No one was out here for miles. The only thing you could see were trees and stranded cars. The snow that came in that morning was already starting to cover the surface of anything and everything it could. You hoped that the two of you could stay here for the night instead of out in the wilderness again.

The sudden jolt of the door pushing open made your turn your head back over to Joel. He had gotten the door open and quickly pulled his own gun and flashlight out. “Wait here.” He tells you before going into the gas station. Giving it a good look around, before calling your name to follow inside.

You look back for a second to look around in case anyone for some reason followed you for four days. You hear Joel call your name again. A lot closer now than he was before. You shake your anxious thoughts and enter the gas station with a heavy breath.

The gas station was ransacked. Shelves were bare and broken. And any supplies that were left were nearly finished. Joel had been a few steps out the door and nearly knocked into you before you came inside. His face almost filled with worry, a question almost leaving his mouth before he sighs. Going behind you to push the door closed and sliding a piece of wood through the door handles.

“The place seems secure. Ransacked for sure but no one’s here so we should be good for now.” Joel tells you as he walks back ahead of you. “Great.” You respond idly. Placing your gun away (your injured hand thank you for it) and flashing your flashlight through the abandoned station.

The building was small. Not a big gas station which was obvious. Probably just being a small gas station for travelers to full up on gas and stale snacks before hitting the road again. That’s what it was like only a few years ago. A simple store to get lottery tickets and making sure to press the right gas button instead of the diesel.

Now it was a free for all, ransacked for survival. Oh how time flies when it’s the end of the world.

You walk further into the station, behind what were once clean isles now filled with dirty and trash. The fridges that were once cold filed with refreshing drinks were now barren with only a few stranglers of bottles left. You could hear Joel doing the same as you. Looking through isles, rummaging for anything that was useful in the dim light of his flashlight.

This is what life was now. Breaking and entering, and stealing to survive. Hiding in plain sight from the dead that risen. Infected with sick disease that wouldn’t stop from killing you and a sudden sound. Raiders doing as they pleased. Like a god or devil granted them their wish of the world turning to shit so they can do as they please without a care in the world. Or people to stop them.

“Got some pain killers. Not much but a few packets to help with that hand.” Joel says to you out loud. You don’t turn to look at him or respond. To his statement. You flashlight shining over the drink you had not seen in a long time.“I got a can of Yahoo if you want to trade.” You say jokingly.

You turn your head back to see Joel staring at you with a confused face. You move your body slightly, hand still shining on the dead fridge with the red and yellow can sitting in one of the holders. Joel huffs a laugh before standing up from his need position. Shaking his head as he walks over to the cash register.

You look back over to the can of Yahoo for a few seconds before you hear Joel call your name. You quickly open the fridge door, the smell of dried water and mildew wafted your nose as you nonetheless pick up the can and sliding it inside your jacket pocket before heading over to Joel’s direction.

There was an door behind the register that was now open. Walking inside to see Joel behind an office desk. It was slightly warmer in this room. You really had no clue why but it would be a decent place to sleep for the rest of night if you played your cars right.

“Help me with this.” He asks you. You walk behind the desk to see Joel hovering over a old radio that had been hidden away in a old vent. You kneel beside him, shoulders touching as you both slide the rest of the radio and its equipment out of the slim vent. Placing it on the office desk with a grunt.

“That shit is heavy.” You mutter with a groan after releasing it.

“Abe preferred the outdated stuff than the modern day. With how its going now, its a good thing he did. Because this thing still works.” He nods his head towards it. “Abe’s your radio guy?” You question him.

Joel nods without saying a world. Starting to move his hands against the radio. Twisting and turning things you had no clue what for. You assumed in attempt to turn it on.

You let Joel focus on the radio as you get a further look around the office. The office was pretty small. Only the office desk and a wooden chair for furniture. There was a tall window that was covered in dirt and grime on the outside. It still created enough light for you both not to need you flashlights. There were a few potted plants on the windowsill. Small, dead plants that probably bought some joy once before.

A broken picture frame face down on the floor. You kneel down to pick it up, dusting the small shards of glass to take the slim picture out.

It was a picture of a family. A mother and father, with an older daughter and younger son. All smiling wide with fishes in their hands. A lake in the background.

This picture makes you think that this gas station was once family owned. Once a place where a family dedicated their time and money to make it useful for customers.

Now it is a graveyard.

It still baffles you how quick life changed. How so sudden the world went to shit. Just two years ago you were in your apartment, in your favorite pair of socks. With a warm cup of tea at your side. Now you’re taking whatever clothing you can find and tea is a useless thing to you now.

At least you had Joel.

You didn’t know how long you two would be together. But you were thankful all the same for his company. He was a quiet man, but a helpful one. He knew his way around. How to survive and protect like it was instilled in him before all of this happened. Despite only truly being in his presence nonstop for four days straight. You want to get to know him more. Hoping that whatever Robert says on this radio (Hopefully it works). That Joel will want to take you with him.

If you were honest. You were tired of doing this alone. And some company wouldn’t hurt. Even if it was company from a man who hadn’t talked much.

Ever so delicately, you place the flimsy picture against the window sill. Like placing a flower on top of a closed casket. You bid a farewell to the old life that feels like a lifetime away.

You put your hands in your pocket. Wincing at the cold aluminum can of chocolate milk against your injured hand. You walk over to the desk where Joel tinkers with the radio.

The loud noise of static makes the both of you jump from the sudden sound. Joel springs into action pulling out his map and and a small notebook from his bag. Turning the radio at whatever frequency has written throughout one of the pages.

He turns the knob back and forth and grabs the the microphone and takes a breath before speaking. “Abe. It’s Joel.” He says into the mic. Releasing his thumb from the mic button.

There’s nothing but static. You heart races with each long moment the two of you wait. Please listen, please respond. Please let this work.

“Abe. Hello? Are you there?” Joel says more sternly. His anticipation and fear crawling into to him. You know it is. He isn’t looking at you, ever so focused on the radio. Turning back to the notebook to make sure he was at the right channel.

All of the cards, all of your marbles. Whatever other fucking saying you could think of relies on this radio working and the person Joel needed to contact responding.

You didn’t come up with another plan besides this one. Hell you hadn’t even known this is where you were going to be five days ago. What would the two of you do now if Abe didn’t answer? Would Joel still stick with you without him? Will he still if he does?

“Joel-”,you start to say to him. Not wanting to tell him that the both of you might need to come up with a plan since the only sound coming from that radio was static. But he didn’t let you finish.

Quickly shaking his head he brings the comm up to his lips again. “Abe, This is Joel. Are you there?” He says again. This time, his voice is almost a bit weary. Trying to grasp onto some sort of hope.

He releases his thumb from the button and static comes on once again.

You start to turn around, feeling overwhelmed with stress and walk out the office to give yourself some space so Joel won’t see you cry over something like this. It was stupid of you for being so hopeful. It was a blessing you even got out of there alive all those few days ago. Nowadays, hope is a very small term and it is more than likely never as frequent as was before.

“Joel. It’s Abe. Turn to the second channel I written on your map.” You hear a man say on the radio. More static than actual noise. But you let out a breath you were holding. Walking toward the office desk, eager to hear more from the stranger.

Joel instantly grabs the make and brings his finger down to the old paper. Looking at the small handwriting to find whatever Abe had told him to turn to. You reach for you flashlight and shine the light over the map to try to help Joel see better.

He turns to the nobs on the radio before grabbing the mic again. “Abe. It’s Joel.”

“Been’s a long time since I heard from you Miller.” Abe says from the radio.

The both of you let out a relieved sigh when you hear the man’s voice. Eager to hear more, you lean both your hands over the office desk to listen in on what he has to say.

“Was hoping I wouldn’t need to for a while longer at least. But you know how things go.” Joel says.

“Unfortunately I do. Give me second and let me see if there’s any news for communities welcoming strays.” Abe tells him.

The line goes silent for a bit, the two of you not saying anything. Both eyeing the radio, hearts racing in anticipation for whatever Abe was going to say. You had yet to make your presence known. Neither has Joel. And if you were honest, you don’t know if you wanted to or not.

“So there is a place that’s available from what I heard over the radio a week ago. Small group, not too friendly but could work for a temporary solution to gather your bearings and try to find something else in the wind.” Abe suggest.

Joel asks for where the group is settled, telling Abe that he was radioing from the old gas station. “It’s South from that station. Not awful but not good either. Works better if you have a car but I really wouldn’t advise because the group may not let you in.”

You flash the flashlight again to give Joel more light as Abe tells him the city name and area. He draws lines down the map to find the way for the two of you to take.

“I’ve known you for a while Joel and I’m sure you can handle it. But this group aren’t the best to hang around. It’s mostly men and not the good kind. So I would advise you to go alone if you are with a group or anything. Especially any women.” Abe finishes

Hearing Abe’s last sentence, causes Joel to stop drawing on the map. His wooden pencil frozen. You hold in a breath as Joel locks eyes with you from across the table.

Here it is. What you’ve been worried about. The decision of whether Joel will leave you here. That one night four days ago was simply you getting lucky. And now you’ll have to be on your own again.

Joel stands straight from his hovered position over the map and his eyes doesn’t leave yours. You don’t know what he’s thinking. You don’t know what is on his mind and what decision he’s going to make. Something in you feels like you know that Joel isn’t the kind of man to leave you stranded. But you’ve been wrong about men too many times than you could count.

He puts his head down and stares at the floor. Almost if he’s contemplating something. In seconds that feel like days, he makes a small nod of his head as if he’s made up his mind. He raises the microphone to his lips and speaks.

“That’s not going to work. I have someone with me.”

With that, he extends his hand out with the microphone for you to take. You look at the microphone and look at him. It’s almost as if you could cry from relief. But you don’t . You simply take the microphone in your hand.

“Hello Abe.” You say the stranger’s name awkwardly.

“Hello.” Abe says intrigued.

“Well. There is one place. You can stay in temporarily. Another hideout I have with another radio hidden in there. It’s not much but it will give me some time to listen in on any other groups that are open for strangers. You aren’t the only person I help from time to time Joel.” He says.

Joel nods his head as if the man can see him but doesn’t say anything else. “It’s a lot farther than the one I just told you. It’s North. Not on the map when I marked for you because its really a hideout for me if where I’m at goes to shit. But, I’ve known you along time and let’s call this a referral or friendly discount of some sort.”

He tells the both of you the proper directions and Joel erases the old lines he made on the map just minutes before. “It’s not much. I know you were probably hoping for something more permanent .” Abe apologizes

“It’s great. Thank you.” You say on the microphone.

“It would be best if you take a car. Which hopefully won’t be too hard given the area you’re in currently. Until then, Joel and his lady friend. Hopefully I can have something better soon for ya.”

Joel says his thank yous and you do as well. Before turning to put the radio back in its originally hiding place. He stands up with a sigh and turns to you. “We should sleep here for the night. Find a car that works in the morning.” You nod your head in agreement.

A few hours pass and day becomes night. The both of you made the office your place of rest. Your sleeping bag against the wall and Joel’s near the office door. You had found an old lanter in the supply closet. It sits in the middle of the room. You and Joel’s laying on your own sleeping bags across from each other.

You were finishing the cold can of soup from your food supply. Joel looking through the map for the tenth time that night. The room silent.

With a couple more spoonfuls you place the empty can on the ground with a sigh. “I’m happy we aren’t outside. But I miss my soup being warm.” You joke.

Joel huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Well you’ll get your wish soon enough. From what I’m seeing its going to be a long drive. Might be a day or two before we get to the place. I’ll try to siphon enough gas from a couple of the cars down the road. To have with us.” He tells you.

You nod at the plan. Still very thankful that Joel still wants you to tag along with him. From how Abe had spoke, it seemed that he wasn’t one to have company with him at all. So you wanted to thank him for it soon.

Lifting your injured hand. You slowly unwrap the dirty gauze, seething when it pulls on the sore scar. “Shit.” You mutter.

“Slow down.” Joel says.

“I am.” You respond back. You weren’t. It hurt too much to pull it slow. Not having much ointment to cover the cut caused it to stick tightly against the dry gauze. You wince again when you tug more off. “Jesus woman.” You hear Joel mutter.

He walks the short distance across to sit next to you. Taking your injured hand in his with caution. “You keep pulling at it like that and you’re going to tear the scab and have to let it heal all over again.” He scolds.

You sigh in annoyance and let Joel do what he’s done more than once since you’ve been traveling together. Tend to your wound.

You were right handed. So trying to wrap your bleeding hand the first night with the flashlight in your mouth. Your non dominant hand struggling to wrap the gauze tightly to stop the bleeding. Hearing your winces and groans from having to start over multiple times. Joel got up from his sleeping bag and wrapped your hand for you.

Ever since then he’ll ask about it. If it still hurts, does it need new gauze, to make sure you weren’t putting too much pressure on it.

You watch Joel slowly pull the gauze. Ever so soft feather-like touches against your scar. He removes the gauze. His calloused hands being so delicately soft against yours.

Flicking your eyes from his hands to his face. His eyebrows furrowed in concentration on your hand. You can’t help but feel thankful.

“Thank you.” You whisper to him.

“Be more careful next time, don’t want to have it bleedin’ again.” He says to you, still focused on your injured hand. The old gauze gone now as he reaches for the new gauze that you had pulled out moments before.

“No- not about this.” You gesture lightly with your other hand. “For the other night.”

Joel knows what you’re referring to. The night he saved you. The night he killed the man that was going to bad things to you and probably kill you afterwards. The night he took you with him to where you both are now.

He pauses from rewrapping your injured hand. Sits quietly. “I heard you screamin’. Wouldn’t have been right to just leave you after hearing that.”and with that he continues to wrap the gauze. “It pretty much looks healed. But you should keep it wrapped for maybe a day or two longer.”

You thank him as he stands up from his seated position. “You should get some sleep. We got a long trek ahead of us.”

“What about you?” You ask him. He softly jerks his head toward the map. “I’m going to mark a few alternative routes just in case the main one we’ll be taken is a dead end or blocked or something.”

You nod at his response before slipping inside your sleeping bag. You turn away from Joel and face the wall. You blink to see the picture you had once placed on the window sill, had been on the floor. Your eyes drift close as you think of simpler times, and the life you once had before this.

—————————————-

HEYYYY… How y’all doing??

I’m here with a new series that’s been flooding my brain nonstop for the past month. I am not setting any expectations on it but this is chapter one. I will post a more official series post later on. I just wanted to get this out thereeee

Glad to be writing again!!!

[luminouslywriting]

Chapter 2 (Mastermind)-MOTA Fic

A/N: A/N: Hello my lovelies!! Based on my new work schedule, I'm wanting to update this fic twice a week! Sundays and Wednesdays seem like good days for me, so hopefully that's okay with all of you! This chapter delves into a little bit of Ruth and what she's been up to since 1941, so hopefully you'll enjoy that! There's also a nod to something so I'm interested to hear your thoughts on THAT particular thing. It will be a little bit before Rosie shows up, so I hope you all really enjoy this and as always, let me know what you think!

May 1943 

After spending nearly a year and a half in England, Ruth wondered if anything would ever actually become familiar to her.  She kept a careful watch on the sights outside, gaze occasionally trained on the skies for any signs of overhead aircrafts.  One could never be too careful, especially when traveling to an airbase. 

She had spent a good majority of her time in Aldbourne, working with paratroopers and other military personnel.  Court martials certainly kept her busy and when she had the time, she would record information about the war and any reported sort of war crimes—for if the day and time came when this war would be over, Ruth’s careful notations would certainly come in handy.  

The journal in which she had recorded said war crimes and other war happenings resided in her dark bag—which never left her side.  She was nothing if not damn good at her job.  There’s a reason why she was over here. 

It had nothing to do with notions of romance and falling in love, much like her parents were hoping for the woman.  Just before leaving to do training in Virginia with the JAG Corp, Ruth had told her parents that she was writing a soldier over in England and wanted to follow him over there.  She had also told them that she was going to be working with a women’s college and advocating for better education whilst the war was going on. 

Ruth had no such plans to do that. 

Her training in Virginia was kept a careful secret from her family and then she was heading over to Europe.  There was no man that she had met, for he was just a figment of fiction and her imagination—a way to quell her mother’s worries at night.  

Then of course, she had actually met someone and gotten along quite famously with him.  He was a gentleman, someone who actually was a soldier—a natural-born leader, someone with a good heart.  He treated her well.  Her only problem?  She’d sooner convert to Catholicism before she allowed herself to fall in love during this damn war. 

So she had done the only thing that she could think of and before things could get entirely too serious (because they certainly were shaping up to be serious), Ruth had broken things off and asked for a transfer.  She hadn’t ever intended to develop feelings for one Dick Winters and she certainly had no illusions that it was something that would last. After all, they had only met because of an attempted court martial that didn’t end well for his superior officer and things had progressed from there. But Ruth?  Ruth was singularly minded.  

No, she was a focused woman and her one love—besides God of course—was her work.  She could maintain a happy married relationship to her work and her passion for advocating for the Prisoners of War that the Germans had racked up in the past few years since the United States had entered the war. 

Still, that didn’t stop Ruth from feeling a modicum of guilt over breaking up with such a good person for her own selfish reasons.  It really wasn't him though—it was her and the situation at hand.  

It was better than when she had broken things off with a finaceé back during her sophomore year of college—that had been something she thought her mother would never recover from.  Adaline Thorne had been shattered over Ruth’s decision to not marry the nice boy from her law-classes—but her father had been pleased .  He was still holding out hope that there was some way for Robert Rosenthal to be in the running for son-in-law. 

But he hadn’t truthfully been in the running since she was 12 and he was 13 and they had shared their disastrous first kiss that caused them to become enemies in the first place. 

Ruth’s hands brushed over the letter of response that she had received from Winters.  It wasn’t long by any means, but it expressed his sentiments about the entire thing very kindly.  It was more kind than she deserved by far, but such was her luck when it came to men who were entirely too kind about the sort of bitch that she was. 

The arrival to East Anglia was a welcome one.  It was nearly a two hour drive to East Anglia and she had certainly gotten the separation and change of scenery that she had wanted.  This seemed equally rural in comparison, though Aldbourne had more of a village than this particular place offered. 

It was quite a change, going from a mixed base—where paratroopers, soldiers, and all sorts of branches of military resided—to going to Royal Air Force Base Thorpe Abbotts, an airfield for pilots and bombardiers and the likes.  

Upon arrival, she was escorted to Colonel Huglin’s office, where she promptly waited for the man to return from an inspection for fifteen minutes.  Ruth wasn’t a particularly impatient person—she had long since mastered the art of waiting, especially on men.  When the esteemed Colonel finally made his way into the office, he found Ruth taking some notes in her journal. Immediately, she was on her feet and saluting at the man.  

“You must be Lieutenant Sharpe?” He extended a hand to her.

“Yes, Colonel Huglin, sir,” Ruth rose, accepting his hand and giving it a firm shake.  

“Thank you for your patience,” Huglin said, taking a seat and gesturing for her to do the same.  Ruth did so, eyes sharp on the beady man in front of her.  “As you well know, Thorpe Abbotts is in need of a representative.” 

“Yes, sir.  I reviewed the file. You had a private punch a major, I believe?  Bar fight, was it?” Ruth recited the information she had received as though she had long-since memorized it. 

“That’s the case,” Huglin gave a nod.  “If I can be quite frank with you, this airbase is going to be receiving new recruits in less than a month.  Many of these men, despite the wartime conditions, are in need of a good guiding hand of the law.” 

“Sir?” 

“Although this was intended to be a temporary post for someone in the JAG Corp, I am asking you to extend beyond just this month.  I estimate that a member of your Corp with your reputation might just be able to whip these men into shape in a way that the army cannot,” Huglin said, leaning back in his seat. 

“Then I readily accept, sir.” 

“May I ask a question?” 

“Certainly,” Ruth replied quickly. 

“Why ask for a transfer?” Huglin questioned, gaze sharp on the woman.  “I’ve read your file, seen your record.  Unblemished—practically perfect in every way. You were even up for a regional promotion, I hear?” 

Ruth gnawed on her lip for a moment, steadying her hands in her lap.  The no fraternization rule was one that had spread across the various branches of military and it seemed to be the biggest problem for most people—she had attended more court martials on that singular basis alone. 

“If I can speak freely, sir?” 

“I’d much prefer it if you did.” 

“There was someone who was interested in me and I like to be more focused on my job,” Ruth said honestly.  “I didn’t come to Europe to find a man, I came to bring the Nazis to their knees and help the military in whatever capacity they will have me.  That being said, the regional promotion would have only extended contact with this individual and I found it best to be transferred so as not to be a distraction to him or myself.” 

“Wise words,” Huglin mused for a moment.  “And a wise mentality to have in times such as this.” 

“Yes sir,” Ruth gave a tight smile.  

“Then I believe everything is in order,” Huglin said, rising to his feet.  “If you’ll follow me, Lieutenant Sharpe?” She did so without complaint, walking briskly to keep up with his quick pace.  “Seeing as how there aren’t enough members of your Corp here, there was no necessitation for barracks.  That being said, I’m placing you in with the Red Cross.” 

“That will be just fine, sir,” Ruth replied.  “I stayed with the Red Cross during my time in Aldbourne as well.” 

Huglin gave a curt nod—but Ruth figured that he wouldn’t have accepted any less of a response.  He seemed like a hard-ass and someone prickly enough to court martial anyone who stepped a toe out of line.  That was something she could work with—someone who was focused on their job and wanted the men to be the best of the best. 

After all, success in this war depended on these men.  And if that meant Ruth being an enforcer of rules to help men shape up or defend themselves against unfair superior officers, then she would certainly do so.  Her moral compass was a tightly wound strictly north pointing thing, and something that had never led her astray before. 

He led her towards the Red Cross hut, leaving her standing there outside the door.  “Take a bunk.  You’ll have the day to explore and adjust.  Tomorrow, your work begins at 0500 hours.  I have a stack of reports for you to work through,” Huglin stated pointedly. 

“I will see you then, sir.” 

With that, Huglin had disappeared back down the gravel walkway.  Ruth clutched her suitcase tightly in one hand, her journal in the other.  Peering into the room full of cots and bunks, Ruth held in a deep sigh that was building in her throat.  She wasn’t here to make friends with the Red Cross women and had little to no desire to be questioned by anyone. 

It was a good thing it was afternoon and no one was currently in there. 

Ruth carefully made her way inside, choosing a bunk close to the door that was empty and had no sign of anyone’s habitation.  She set her suitcase down underneath the bed and then slipped her journal under the mattress. There was little to no privacy in a place like this anyway and she didn’t need confidential case matters making their way into anyone’s hands, even by mistake. 

Noting the fact that no one was in the bunkhouse, Ruth took a small moment to compose herself and send up a silent prayer of thanks—that the transfer had gone through, that she had arrived in East Anglia safely, and that she would be able to help people just as much here as she had been helping in Aldbourne. 

Being a devout woman of faith wasn’t exactly an easy thing when at every turn, Nazi propaganda and the war was shoving back against her beliefs.  She had managed to keep things quiet so far during her time in Europe—and not a single person was aware of her religious affiliation.  That didn’t make it very easy at times—she tended to pray in the oddest of times in order to keep her peace; in the shower, when she was about to fall asleep, and whenever she had a moment to herself. 

Ruth couldn’t even bring her mother’s necklace onto the continent with her.  She had left that buried in Virginia soil as a sort of protection for herself.  And though there were bibles at any given junction in this war, it was not the same. 

What would her parents say about all of this? 

Taking a moment to pen out a letter to her parents had been part of her plan since the beginning of the morning.  Since she had come over to Europe, Ruth had faithfully written to her family every single week.  She was half-convinced her parents were ready to come and drag her back from Europe themselves, if the crossing wasn’t too difficult like it currently was.  

My dearest family, 

I hope that this letter finds you well and in good health.  Has Sarah recovered from her bout with sickness yet?  I pray that she has.  I have taken a trip to the countryside, in order to help with some more obscure women’s causes.  It is safe here and I am happy.  I am making so many friends—

Ruth paused.  How much lying was too much lying ?  As far as her parents were concerned, she was happily engaged to some soldier who she had been regularly seeing while she was in Aldbourne.  It was a stretched sort of truth, anyway.  But that had been their initial impression of why she was going over to Europe anyway. 

Things with my dear soldier remain happy.  He and I went on the nicest picnic when he had leave this past weekend.  I so enjoyed it and can understand what Alice is saying about marriage.  I can only hope that this war ends soon so that I may be married one day as well. 

Lie, lie, lie—well…she thought that God could forgive that if it meant her helping end the war.  And technically speaking, her and Dick Winters had gone on a picnic the week previous.  In order to break up.  Not that her parents needed to know that.  Because the minute that a man was out of the picture, she was almost certain that they would demand that she come home and take care of them. 

And it wasn’t out of selfishness that she wanted to stay in Europe.  But her calling was not meant to be caring for her ailing parents and younger siblings.  No, Sarah and Alice were much more suited to the domestic lifestyle of being home.  Ruth?  Ruth wanted to work and wanted to be busy at all times of day. 

After she had finished school and was waiting for her appointment in Virginia to go through—it was a whole three weeks—she thought she was going to go absolutely mad .  The homefront was stifling, with talks of love, and marriage, and babies —ugh, it absolutely drove her up the wall.  And she hated the small talk that would ensue about the weather and the sewing and the inevitable complaints about rationing and lead back to gossip about who was seen with who—

No, she much preferred being here . 

Before Ruth could even write another line, the door had burst open and two women had come inside.  The one with curlier hair practically flopped onto her bunk, a dramatic sigh spilling from her throat.  “If I have to give one more donut to a man who gives me the same line as the one before, I think I’ll just die.” 

“Helen!” The other one exclaimed, eyes shooting over to Ruth, sitting in the corner, pen and paper in hand. 

The one known as Helen straightened up, eyes going wide at Ruth.  “Are you new?” 

“Lieutenant Ruth Sharpe.  I’m here with the JAG Corp,” Ruth answered quickly.  “And you two are?” 

Both women seemed to relax at learning her name.  “Helen Brown,” Helen piped up, warmly giving her a smile and extending her hand. 

Ruth warmly shook her hand.  “Pleased to meet you.” 

“And I’m Tatty Spaatz.” 

“That makes you the General’s daughter, correct?” Ruth questioned, shaking Tatty’s hand as well. 

Tatty gave a grin.  “I see you’ve done your homework.  Though you’re JAG Corp, so that makes sense.  Lawyers and such.” 

“Guilty as charged,” Ruth gave a tight smile.  It wasn’t that she couldn’t socialize.  It was that she just didn’t prefer to.  

“We’ve had a few of you JAG-Corp pass through,” Helen drawled curiously.  “They never stay for too long.  How long are you here for?” 

“Indefinitely or until the higher powers of the brass that be call me elsewhere,” Ruth replied. 

“Ooh,” Tatty murmured.  “Huglin’s been waiting for a competent lawyer.  I bet he’s thrilled.  You’ll be busy in no time.” 

“So I’ve been told,” Ruth stated evenly.  “Is there anything you can tell me about the base?  Or the men here?” 

Helen gave a bright and knowing smile.  “Most of them will likely flirt with you—any woman, really.” 

“A lot of them are good.  There’s only a few that are troublemakers,” Tatty added in.  “But I’m sure that Huglin will take advantage of your presence however he can.  And…the fraternizations that go on are usually hush-hush.  If you work on that, you can expect to be isolated from the nurses.  They’re the ones who fraternize the most.” 

“A good thing to note,” Ruth gave a nod.  “Huglin knows?” 

Tatty gave a snort.  “He knows as much as his little parrots will tell him.  But I wouldn’t say anything unless any problems arise.  And if you want to know what problems arise, that means—” 

“Integrating into the social life of the base,” Ruth finished with a nod.  “I figured as much.  Well I thank you for your time.  If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go explore for a bit.  And thank you for the advice, I do appreciate it.” 

[princesssszzzz]

Agony & Amor ~ Chapter 8

Pairing: Rhaemond

Word Count: 3.3k

Harry Potter AU AO3

"Expecto Patronum," the wind quickly carried away the shimmering dust that left Rhaena's wand for the 5th time that day. She'd been practicing since noon and was grateful for the house to be empty. Jace and Baela were off, having the freedom to travel now that they were older. The manor was empty, and Rhaena preferred it. Complete silence. Just her and the roaming black cats.

Hogwarts had always made it clear students were not allowed to practice magic outside of school, but this wasn’t a rule that applied to Targaryens. Who from the ministry would show up to the manor to say no to the child of Daemon Targaryen? Sitting her wand down, she wanted to take a break before attempting the next spell. Her father had no idea she was here in her cozy nook for hours, hoping to remain unnoticed until she could emerge like a phoenix when he came back home from work. Instead of emerging the Rhaena he'd seen just this morning, she'd be a new and improved master of the Patronus.

She reached for her magenta sweater and tried to hide from the winter chill when she heard the door open. Daemon was home and the booming slam of the french doors told her he wasn't in a good mood again. Not that she was shocked, this was nothing new. Rhaena got up to go greet him.

"Father."

Letting her long hair swing behind her, she walked in to find him already busy. Daemon gave her his usual thoughtless look over as she entered the kitchen.

"How was work?" He grunted something about the 'fucking criminals,' but not even that could stop her grabbing an apple. Rhaena was used to this, and she knew he wasn't interested. At some point during her break, he'd have to pay her some mind. Every year they celebrated her mother's birthday. Her death wouldn't stop them from celebrating her life. At least that's what her grandmother told her and Baela.

"Where's your sister?" His voice raised as he lifted his head from his after-work snack, wiping crumbs from his face. He towered over Rhaena with an arched brow, almost preparing to hear about Baela getting into trouble.

"She's off with Jace, on a quick holiday before schools starts back."

"Hmm," brushing past Rhaena he headed to his study, clearly wanting to go and think of new ways to torture the most recent newcomers to Azkaban prison.

Rhaena sighed. She thought about calling him and giving an update on her recent gains at school but decided not to.

It wasn't worth the effort right now nand her mind was precoccupied anyways. She slowly headed to grab a book, no longer having the energy to practice spells.

'What am I doing? It's winter break, I can take a moment to relax.'

The garden house in the backyard was much better to be in than the house. The large glass architecture gave heat to the many plants they had. Rhaena sat curled in silence after dinner, sipping her tea and using candles to light up just enough for her to read. The darkness surrounding her would've scared her when she was young. It felt comforting now. This quiet was soothing, and she felt anxiety ease by the minute. Finally. She had a book that held nothing about spells. She read a novel about glass dolls coming to life. It was so silly but no father. No school. No Aemond.

Rhaena almost rolled her eyes at herself for thinking about him. She'd spent the last couple days pretending he didn't exist. She didn't have to think about him. His side of the family wasn't coming over for dinner this year and she was certain her father wouldn't take up any reason to go to see them. Aemond. She thought back to his audacity at the ball.

He'd been acting strange and she thought it better not to think about it. Rhaena shook her head when rustling sounds made her jump. She knew it wasn't her father and jumped out of her low beanbag chair to see Aemond peering through glass watching her. His dark clothes blended in the dark of the night making it seem like his head was floating.

Stepping back, Rhaena had to ensure it wasn't her mind playing tricks on her. Her thoughts drift to him once and suddenly he wants to appear? It didn’t seem right. It was insanity, but Rhaena knew it wasn't her insanity but his when he sauntered to the door and let himself in. He had to bend his tall frame to get through the door and a cold burst of wind followed him as he slammed it shut.

Rhaena let her eyes drift down to his wet boots and then back up to his face. It was ironic. The snow was disrupting the warmth of the garden room the way Aemond was disrupting her peace. He flicked damp hair from his face to give Rhaena a grin.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"I knew you would be here," he replied, giving her no facial expression. Rhaena could only raise an eyebrow at him as she watched him in take a deep breath.

Aemond’s hands shook slightly, the words he wanted to say getting tangled in a knot of frustration. He glanced at Rhaena, and this time Rhaena could not decipher what he was thinking.

He ran a hand through his hair, his movement betraying his agitation, and his attempts to inject his trademark arrogance into the conversation only seemed to make the silence more pronounced. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, his voice wavered,

Hands shaking slightly as he tried to steady himself, the words he wanted to say tangled got in a knot of frustration and fear. He glanced at Rhaena, whose eyes were full of curiosity and a hint of concern. Normally, he would have hidden his discomfort behind a veneer of smugness, his usual bravado masking his true emotions. But now, that façade felt like a brittle shell, cracking under the strain of his vulnerability.

"Look, I just—" Aemond began and he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "I just wanted to talk to you."

Rhaena’s expression shifted to one of guarded skepticism. “And what do you think you have to say to me?” she asked, her tone defensive, a protective shield against whatever he might throw her way.

Aemond shifted uncomfortably, the weight of his own words pressing heavily on him. “It’s not what you think. I’m sorry for being a craven."

He paused, slowly pulling out a small, weathered object from his pocket. It was a plastic wand, slightly chipped but still recognizable from the small pink heart sticker at the end.

Rhaena's eyes widened as she recognized it. "Is that?"

"Yes," he said softly avoiding her gaze, a trace of a smile touching his lips. "It’s the one we used to play with. I found it while rummaging through my things." He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I didn't want to be around my family right now. I was… rather overwhelmed, I suppose. And when I came across this…"

Rhaena pressed her lips together, eyeing Aemond while his words sunk in. She stared at the wand, a mix of nostalgia and wariness in her gaze. "And what, you think bringing that here will just erase everything? All the time you’ve been a right git to me?"

Aemond’s smile faded, replaced by a look of genuine regret. "No, I don't expect it to fix everything. I know I've been a prat, and I can't undo how I treated you. But I thought maybe if we could just-”

He paused before continuing. “I might have a chance to…."

Her eyes remained cool, a guarded distance still present despite the old memories evoked by the wand. "It’s not that simple, Aemond. You can’t just show up with a trinket from our childhood and expect me to forgive how you’ve behaved."

He took in a deep breath, the reality of her words sinking in. "I understand. I just wanted to try, even if it seems futile."

Rhaena’s gaze softened slightly, but the tension between them remained thick, like the heavy snow piling against the glass walls of the garden house. The warmth from the candles crackled softly, the flames casting flickering shadows that danced across the room.

The garden house was her sanctuary from everything. Family drama and the winter storm raging outside, a cozy refuge filled with lush greenery that thrived under the glass roof. But here was Aemond to invite the chaos of the outside world in.

Despite the room’s inviting comfort, the air between them was charged with unresolved emotions. She eyed him warily, not knowing what to think. The silence between them stretched on, heavy and uncomfortable, as if neither of them knew how to proceed.

Aemond moved to sit in one of the white fluffy beanbag chairs across from her, his tall frame sinking into the plush material. He looked out of place in the small room since he was older now, his usual cool demeanor clashing with the warmth and softness that surrounded them. For a long moment neither of them spoke, and the only sounds were the crackling fire and the occasional loud gust of wind outside.

Rhaena’s fingers played absently with the edge of the book she had set aside, a frivolous escape that felt distant now. She let her lilac eyes flicker back to Aemond, taking in the way he sat rigidly, his hands clasped together as if trying to keep his emotions in check. She could see the tension in his jaw, the way his eye moved restlessly around the room before settling back on her.

“What do you want from me, Aemond?” she finally asked, her voice breaking the silence like a sudden crack of thunder. Her tone was soft, but there was an edge to it, a challenge that hung in the air between them.

Aemond’s gaze remained on hers, and for a moment, she thought she saw something raw and unguarded in his expression—something that made her heart beat just a little faster. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice low and rough. “I just don’t want things to be like this between us.”

Rhaena’s lips pressed into a thin line again, her skepticism returning. “You think a few words can change everything? After everything you’ve done, everything you’ve said?”

He flinched at her words, a flash of regret crossing his face. “I know I’ve been cruel. I know I’ve hurt you. And I can’t take any of that back. But I’m here now, trying to make things right, if you’ll let me.”

“Why now?” Rhaena asked, her tone sharp.

Aemond hesitated, his fingers tightening around the small plastic wand still clutched in his hand. “Because I’m tired of being alone,” he said finally, the admission costing him more than he wanted to admit. “I’m tired of pushing everyone away, of hiding behind my anger and pride. I care about you, Rhaena. More than I ever wanted to.”

His confession hung in the air between them, vulnerable and exposed. Rhaena felt a flutter of something in her chest. But it was something she wasn’t ready to name. It was quickly tempered by the memory of every harsh word he had ever thrown at her, every cold glance and sneer since he’d returned.

She looked away from him, her eyes drifting to the flickering candles beside her. The silence stretched on once more, heavy with the weight of their shared history. The storm outside seemed to mirror the turmoil within her, the wind howling as if in sympathy with her confusion.

When she finally spoke, her voice was quieter, more tentative. “You say you care about me, but how can I trust that? How do I know this isn’t just another game to you?”

Aemond’s gaze softened, the harsh lines of his face easing as he leaned forward slightly, the beanbag chair shifting beneath him. “Because it’s not a game, Rhaena. I’ve been a fool, and I know I don’t deserve your trust. I’m willing to earn it again, if you’ll give me the chance.”

Rhaena’s eyes flicked back to his, searching for any hint of deception. She let out a slow breath with her resolve wavering as the tension between them shifted into something else. Something fragile and new.

“You’re not the only one who’s tired, Aemond,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond’s eye softened further, a small, tentative smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Maybe we can try something different,” Aemond proposed, his voice edged with a vulnerable earnestness.

Rhaena’s gaze remained fixed on him, her expression a blend of curiosity and wariness watching as Aemond moved closer. The rustling of the beanbag seemed to echo the sudden shift in their dynamic.

Aemond edged nearer, his proximity making Rhaena acutely aware of every breath he took. His hand reached out, long fingers trembling slightly as they hovered near hers but she tightened her grip on the book . The air between them felt electric, every small movement magnified by the silence that had settled over the room.

With her heart racing, Rhaena pulled back slightly, her instincts screaming at her to maintain the distance she had so carefully guarded. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice betraying a hint of anxiety.

“I’m trying to be honest with you,” Aemond said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I know I’ve been difficult, but I want to make things right. I don’t want to keep pretending.”

His closeness was overwhelming, and Rhaena struggled to process the whirlwind of emotions that his nearness stirred. She glanced around the room, trying to ground herself. The garden house was meant to be a sanctuary, a place of solace. But tonight, it was a battleground of emotions.

Aemond’s hand moved closer to hers, his eye searching hers for any sign of reciprocation. She hated that her stature was so much shorter than his. He was so near now that Rhaena could see the faintest tremor in his gaze, the vulnerability he had attempted to conceal. It was in that moment that her gaze fell upon his eyepatch, the empty space where his eye should have been. The scarred skin a silent testament to a past he had yet to fully reveal.

“Why don’t you tell me how you lost your eye?” Rhaena asked abruptly, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

Aemond’s face tightened, the warm expression he had been wearing slipping away to reveal a mask of guarded pain. He withdrew slightly, the space between them widening as he struggled to maintain his composure. “That’s not something I like to talk about,” he said, his voice strained.

Rhaena’s heart ached at the sight of him retreating. “If you want to be honest with me, then start by telling me the truth. I know you lied to everyone.”

Aemond’s frustration flared, his fists clenching as he fought to keep his emotions in check. “Why does it matter so much to you?” he demanded, his voice rising. “What does it change if I tell you?”

The sudden outburst made Rhaena flinch, and she watched as Aemond stood up, his movements sharp and agitated. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave,” he said, his voice trembling with anger. “You clearly don’t want me here.”

Rhaena’s eyes followed him as he headed to the door, awaiting the return to his previous behavior.

But Aemond paused, his hand resting on the cold doorknob. He took a deep breath, the fight draining from his posture as he turned back to her. “It’s not about what you said,” he admitted, his voice cracking. “It’s about me failing. Again.”

Rhaena’s eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean?”

Aemond moved slowly to sink back into the beanbag chair, his shoulders slumping. “I was practicing a spell, trying to perfect it. Sectum sempra. I was so focused on proving myself, on being something more. I made a mistake—an error in the incantation. The backfire took my eye.”

His admission hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his self-reproach. Rhaena watched as Aemond’s face flushed with an admixture of shame and frustration. “I thought I could do better,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor. “But all I’ve done is fail. Aemond confessed, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he struggled with the exposure of his deepest insecurities. He leaned lower into the beanbag chair, his gaze lost to the flickering candlelight that cast long shadows across Rhaena’s features. "I had to prove I was as much a Targaryen as anyone, even though I got a late start.”

Rhaena watched him, the firelight playing across her face, softening the edges of her usually stern expression with him.

Aemond continued, the words coming more freely now, driven by a need to make her understand. “I think I pushed you away because I saw the same struggle in you. You remind me of everything I was trying to run away from. It wasn’t fair to you Rhaena.”

Her eyes held his, and in them, he saw a mirror to his own conflict. Here was another Targaryen who knew the weight of legacy and expectation. Yet, she carried it differently, with a grace that made him envious yet drew him in.

She let a silence fall on again, wanting the sound of the storm to help her think, but Aemond moved closer to her. She stood also and this time his approach was hesitant, marked by the awareness of his past mistake.

“I’ve seen how you are with my cousin Garmund and and that boy Corwyn,” Aemond said, the words carrying a hint of bitterness. “It bothers me, seeing you so close to them, knowing how different things are between us.”

Rhaena’s expression tightened at his admission. “You have no right to comment on my relationships, especially not after how you treated Corwyn. He’s my friend and you hurt him, Aemond.” Her voice was stern, reproachful.

Aemond’s lips curled into a reluctant smirk briefly across his face. “Maybe I did,” he conceded, his apology sounding half-hearted.

“You should be more than ‘maybe sorry,’” Rhaena countered sharply. “And you should start being nicer to Jace.”

Aemond’s expression soured at the mention of Jace, but he masked his disdain quickly. “I’ll try,” he said, his tone noncommittal, clearly designed to placate her rather than express any real intention of change.

Rhaena rolled her eyes at his obvious lie before regarding him, her eyes searching his for any sign of genuine change at least between them. Maybe. Baby steps.

Aemond took a step closer, diminishing the space between them as he watched her release the book from her hand. She’d been holding it to her chest, using it as a blockade and tool of protection. His movement was deliberate, a silent challenge to the boundaries they had both been guarding. His gaze was intense, searching, as if trying to communicate more than words could say.

Rhaena’s breath hitched slightly, her body instinctively tensing as he neared. The warmth of his breath touched her face, and for a moment, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in the dimly lit glass surrounded by darkness.

Their eyes stayed locked, and a silent understanding passed between them—a recognition of the tumultuous path that had led them here, to this moment of fragile closeness. Neither moved to bridge the final gap, the space between their lips charged with the possibility of what could be, yet unfulfilled.

Finally, Aemond’s voice broke the silence, low and rough with emotion. “Rhaena,” he murmured, her name a confession, a plea, an acknowledgement of everything unsaid between them.

Rhaena remained still, her eyes not leaving his, her response a whisper that carried all the complexity of her feelings. “Aemond.”

The tension lingered, palpable and unresolved, as they stood there, caught in the storm’s embrace and their own, an echo of the chaos outside mirrored in their entwined fates. The scene closed with them close enough to feel each other’s warmth, yet still apart, their emotions as tumultuous and uncharted as the storm raging around them.

[florencemtrash]

The Wisp Between Worlds

CHAPTER THREE: OVER THE WALL

Acotar fanfic/rewrite. Inner Circle x OC. Eventual Azriel x OC.

Summary: Have you ever wondered what you would do (and do differently) if you found yourself trapped in the fantasy world of your dreams? For Nora, this fantasy of hers is about to play out when she finds herself portaled away to the Moral Lands south of Prythian. But all is not as it seems. Feyre Archeron is missing and the deadline to break Amarantha’s curse draws near. Who will save Prythian now?

Warnings: None for this chapter 

Masterlist

*Let me know if you would like to join the taglist*

________________

Dinah made good money that day, haggling at the market to sell the deer meat for a higher price than it was worth. They’d even cooked a few cuts for dinner in the fire, filling the house with the heady scent of meat that lasted long after they’d finished tearing into the food with reckless abandon. After nearly a week of surviving on stale bread, tea, and water it felt like they were doing something wrong. But after leaning back in her chair, stomach full and comfortably stretching the waistband of her pants, Nora wondered if it was the guilt eating away at her instead. If she was right about this, about everything, then she’d just killed a faerie today and the High Lord of the Spring Court would be coming for her.

Nora crawled into bed, bones weary and begging for rest. But her mind would not let her forget the glint of the steel tipped ashwood arrow sticking out of the beautiful wolf’s skull. Dinah and Jaskiel whispered to one another from their shared bed across the room. During the winter months they needed to crowd into the living room by the fire to escape the cold that seeped in through the floor and walls. Sleeping on opposite ends of the room was as much privacy as any of them would get. The beds themselves were little more than sheets stuffed with hay and scraps of wool from Dinah’s mending projects and just barely kept you from freezing on the ground. 

Before Nora had met them, and before Jaskiel had fallen ill, him and Dinah had lived comfortable lives in this little cottage. Jaskiel was once a small-time merchant and craftsperson, making frequent travels to the Continent to trade his wooden trinkets for spices and silks to sell to nearby villages. Dinah stayed home, tending to the house and the now dead garden of roses in the backyard. Whatever comforts Jaskiel had brought back for Dinah had long since been sold to the highest bidder. The only pieces left from that previous life were the books tucked away in the corner shelf of the living room, swollen and yellowed from the many times they’d all run their fingers through the pages, and Dinah’s wedding ring.

“It was the first thing I bought on the Continent.” Jaskiel told her, smiling at the strange girl who sat on the floor by his feet, bright eyes staring at him with curiosity. After a bath and a dinner of boiled katniss she was looking better, less like a frightened bird with its wings clipped.

“My first successful trip, and certainly not my last! And I knew the first thing I needed to do when I came home was marry Dinah.” She smiled from her seat next to him, abandoning her sewing project for a moment to rub his knee. She was thinner now than when they’d gotten married, gray hair sprouting from her temples and framing the crows feet that grew from her eyes whenever she was happy. Her hands were stronger too, more calloused and accustomed to hard work after Jaskiel had gotten sick. By pure force of will she’d carried the two of them through life since then and she vowed to continue doing so. 

Perhaps it was because they’d known a kinder life that they took Nora in, patiently allowing her to learn the skill of survival. 

I don’t want to leave. Nora thought tearfully, praying to whatever gods existed in this world that she wouldn’t be swept away in the night. She’d dreamed of Prythian every day, dreamed of being able to go home. Part of her still wanted that, the other part simply wanted to make peace with the life she knew now. No more change, no more being taken to new places and forced to learn everything all over again. 

Her prayer was not answered.

Dinah and Jaskiel had been asleep for hours now, unaware of the doom that had slipped through the wall and was now lurking outside their home. Nora lay awake, holding a knife close to her chest and continuing to murmur her pleas and prayers.

The front door blew open, shattering into a million pieces and raining down over their heads with sharp stabs. Nora immediately jumped to her feet, throwing her blanket around her to protect from the wood that continued to strike her as the creature clawed at the ruined door frame. 

Dinah was screaming. Jaskiel shouted Nora’s name as he threw his body over his wife, grabbing his cane. His lame legs cried out in protest when he tried to stand, brandishing the glorified stick as a weapon.

Nora sprained across the room, heart pounding and vision a blur as she barely dodged the next spray of wood that came crashing down. 

The beast had ripped the walls and part of the ceiling into ribbons with one angry swipe of his claws.

Well that was fucking rude. Nora thought, trying to quell the shaking of her hands as she stepped in front of Jaskiel and Dinah, holding her knife out towards the beast as he finally made his way into the room.

Every step shook the ground more powerfully than an earthquake. The little moonlight spilling through the cracks in the ceiling were snuffed out by his enormous frame. Standing taller than a fully grown man was a creature with the body of a bear, head of a wolf, and horns extending so far out from his skull it was a miracle they didn’t catch on the wooden beams. Pure muscle rippled underneath fur that glowed with a golden light, illuminating the mouth of jet black teeth that were bared as he roared, “MURDERERS!” 

Nora cringed, clapping a hand over her ear. Don’t drop the knife. Don’t you dare drop the knife.

“MURDERERS!” he screamed again. The foundations of the house shook with his power. Dinah’s screams died into quiet whimpers. Jaskiel crumpled to the ground, legs folding like paper beneath his rickety frame.

“WHO KILLED HIM?!”

The house remained silent. Only Dinah’s choked sobs punctured the stillness of the night. Nora tried not to faint, her mind fracturing into a million pieces as she tried to think of what to do next.

Do I tell him I killed the faerie? Do I tell him I killed Andras? Was that even the faerie’s name? But he hasn’t told me who I killed. I know who I killed. Am I supposed to know who I killed? Am I supposed to know I killed a faerie at all? What will happen to Dinah and Jaskiel?

Infuriated by the silence he lifted one arm, slamming his paw into the ground so hard that it broke through the wooden floors. Nora could feel the heat of his breath as he drew near, shoving his face right up against hers. “WHO KILLED HIM?!” 

Nora refused to falter, irritation slowly beginning to overtake her fear.

His breath smells like roses. How ridiculous. 

“We didn’t kill anyone!” Dinah sobbed, clutching her husband's shaking arm. The beast took one step backward and Nora let out a breath of relief. They were still alive. Dinah must have caught onto that string of hope because she began to regain her composure. Her blubbering might do nothing more than enrage the beast enough to slaughter them all.

“Please we didn’t-” Jaskiel’s feeble words were cut off by a growl. The beast’s eyes were still fixated on Nora, filled with even more fury for the fact that she remained standing - standing with a weapon brandished in her hand. The gall of the girl. He ripped it out of her hand as easily as one swatted a fly. Nora was too shocked to register the pain in her forearm as she stumbled backward, blood dripping down her hand and landing with a rhythmic thump thump thump onto the floor. 

If he regretted hurting her he didn’t show it. As if to make a further point that he could kill them all in an instant, he whirled around towards the dining table. It exploded without so much as a whisper from him, taking out a chunk of the wall in the process.

His horns threw shadows against what remained, twisting and turning like a pair of skeletal hands. Jade green eyes glared out, filled with fury and some small seed of grief. “Who killed him?”

“We didn’t kill anyone.” Nora said. Her pain made her angry. 

“LIAR! THE WOLF! Who killed the wolf?” 

Jaskiel and Dinah shared a look. Nora hadn’t said anything about a wolf.

“I did.” The young girl didn’t flinch, although her throat tightened from the admission like someone had a hand around her neck. “I killed a wolf. This morning in the woods.”

“Hush, child.” Dinah hissed. She tore a strip of fabric from her dress and tried to stem the flow of blood from Nora’s arm.

“And did you know?” The High Lord growled out, barely concealing the threat of death in his voice, “Did you know he was faerie?”

The color drained from Nora’s face. 

This is it. Two choices: lie and say you didn’t know and maybe he’ll let you live. Or… tell the truth. Tell him you knew the wolf was a faerie. Tell him you killed him out of hatred. Go to Prythian… try and get home.

The beast caught the flicker of recognition in Nora’s eyes, caught the narrowing of her inky black eyes in a look of hatred. 

“You did know.” he seethed. He pulled away from her, disgust in his eyes at the feeble human girl before him. This was the girl who’d killed Andras. Some pathetic little human had slaughtered his trusted friend. “Did you enjoy it? Did you enjoy it when you slaughtered my friend.” He prowled about the room, never taking his eyes off the three of them still huddled in the corner by the cinders.

“Better him than me.” Nora held her head up, glaring at him.

“No.” Jaskiel breathed out, grabbing at her uninjured hand. “Please,” he begged the beast, “She’s my daughter. She’s young. She didn’t know any better. She was afraid.” 

“Is that true?” the beast hissed, baring his fangs, “Did he attack you?”

She squared her shoulders. “No.” 

“So you slaughtered him. Unprovoked. You murdered him.”

Nora barked out a laugh, “And how many humans have you murdered? How many will you continue to murder? How many homes will you break into? How many lives will you threaten?” her voice was filled with venom as she spit out the words, “I hope your friend is suffering right now in the afterlife. I wasn’t certain at the time, but now that I know he’s faerie I don’t regret it at all. I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

She ignored his deep growl and dealt a final blow, “It was a quicker death than he deserved.” 

With a roar he brought his claw down on the bookshelf next to him, shattering it completely. The beloved tomes tumbled onto the floor, half shredded and dusty from their fall.

If you were really going to kill me, you would’ve done it by now. 

The fear of a painful death with Tamlin sinking his teeth into her throat and thrashing her around had made Nora forget one key fact: she knew this story. She knew about the curse that hung over his head - that hung over Prythian - and like it or not, he needed her.

The realization gave her power. She stood up again, ignoring Dinah’s desperate hands as she tried to force her daughter to kneel again, “What do you want?”

“What do I want? I want justice for what you did. I want you to pay.”

“We’ll pay the cost.” Dinah said frantically, “Name your price.” 

Nora’s heart broke. Please don’t. 

They had no money to spare. Dinah worked hard enough as it was, coming home every night with bleeding and cracked hands, and Jaskiel could do little more than beg for scraps of work. The wealthy in the village would offer them no respite, no mercy. They were too comfortable behind their iron gates and towering walls. Nora didn’t want to see Dinah beg too.

“And what is the price you’d lay on your daughter’s head?” the beast asked, stepping off the ruined shelf. Dinah stilled. “Whatever pathetic sum you offer won’t be enough. Andras was worth more than one-hundred of you.”

“Then what would be enough?” Tell us and be done with it already. “What do you want?” 

“A life for a life. That’s what I want.”

“I’ll pay it.” Jaskiel said, voice even and strong. Dinah swore at him as he struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. 

“What the hell are you doing, Jaskiel?” Nora hissed, turning around and stepping directly between him and Tamlin. 

His kind face, weathered and leathery after decades of sea travel, softened when Nora’s face blocked the terrifying beast. She knew he liked her. He’d treated her with the love and kindness he would have shown his own daughter if he and Dinah had ever been blessed in that way. But the fact remained that Nora wasn’t theirs. She owed them a debt that could never be repaid and she wouldn’t forgive herself if anything happened to them.

“I’ll pay the price.” He said again, stepping to the side. Nora stepped with him, refusing to let Tamlin get close to Jaskiel.

“No he won’t.” Nora commanded, swinging back to Tamlin. The beast’s eyes flickered for a brief moment with something like surprise.

“As touching as the offer is,” he drawled, “I want the actual murderer.”

“Take me outside then. Don’t do it here.” 

Again, that flicker of surprise, “You dare ask for such a thing?” He scoffed, eyes narrowing.

“I wasn’t asking. You already ruined half the house and left a hole in the floor, you don’t need to fill it with blood either.” Nora spit out. 

He snarled, “For having the gall to ask me for such a thing, I’ll clarify something: I want your life. Prythian wants a life for the one you stole. So either you come with me across the wall to live out the rest of your days, or I take you outside and tear you to pieces as you so kindly told me to do.” His lips pulled back in a threatening smile. 

“So either you kill me here and now, or some other beast over the wall kills me in a few days time. Tell me, Beast, which would be quicker?”

He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. There was something in the way he moved, cat-like and predatory. Doubt flickered within her. What if I’m wrong? What if he kills me?

“I have lands,” Tamlin said carefully after some consideration, “So long as you don’t leave those lands you will be safe.”

“And what about Dinah and Jaskiel?” His eyes flickered over to the pair. Dinah’s eyes were trained on him, fear and fury simmering under the surface of her now composed face. 

“What about them?” 

“They’ll die without me. You only asked for one life. What fairness in ‘a life for a life’ is there if my absence leads to their deaths.” 

Dinah and Jaskiel both tugged harshly at the back of her sleep shirt, begging her to control her boldness. 

If a wolf could frown, it would look like the annoyance that crossed Tamlin’s face. “They’ll be taken care of.” 

Nora’s breath caught in her throat. Did he mean it? He must mean it. I’ll give him hell if he doesn’t help them.

“You swear it?” 

Tamlin’s eyes passed through each of them in turn. Nora, the girl’s name was. He tested the name out in his mind finding it agreeable enough. And he had to admit, some small piece of him was impressed - if not annoyed - by her boldness. The couple would surely die without her, already their frames were too thin and delicate to support their aging souls. 

“I swear it.” He said, and found it a very easy promise to make, “But, you must promise to never leave Prythian. The moment you step foot back in the Human Lands, the deal is off, and I can’t promise what will become of your precious little family.”

“Take the offer.” Dinah said, turning Nora around and grasping her too-thin face. Tears welled up in her amber eyes and Nora did all she could to stop the rising emotions in her chest. “Take the offer. You’re a survivor, child. You’ll make it. You’ll make something of yourself.”

Jaskiel said nothing, face falling and aging twenty years in a few mere seconds.

“When does she leave?” Dinah said with a sniffle, wiping her tears away and taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Now.” 

“Now?!” Nora wanted more time with them. She wanted one more night.

“Now.” The decision was not up for discussion.

Dinah grabbed Nora’s shoulders, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “Don’t worry about us,” she whispered, burying her face into Nora’s dark hair, “Just worry about taking care of yourself, alright? You know how.” She kissed Nora’s cheeks, wiping her hands on her nightdress as Jaskiel took his turn. 

Nora braced her legs, feeling the weight of Jaskiel in her arms as he held her close. His legs may have been weak and broken, but his arms were strong. He brushed the hair back from her face with a calloused hand, stormy gray eyes expressing all he could not say. Goodbye. You will always be a daughter to me. Until we meet again.

Dinah grabbed her thickest cloak from the back of Jaskiel’s chair and threw it over Nora’s shoulders. Somehow the most important piece of furniture had managed to survive Tamlin’s rage. Final whispers of encouragement escaped Dinah’s lips before the beast snapped at them to leave, maneuvering through the wreckage he’d created with grace and power. 

Nora could do nothing but allow her hand to slip through Dinah’s and quietly trail after the beast.

He led her to a beautiful mare that had been waiting obediently for them by the treeline. Her coat was as silky and pristine as a polished pearl. Nora hesitated. She’d never ridden a horse before, but Tamlin was in no mood to wait any longer. He grabbed her roughly by the waist with one paw and dumped her unceremoniously onto the mare’s back.

Asshole. She glared at the back of his horns as he led them into the night.

When Nora looked behind her she found Dinah and Jaskiel standing together in the gaping hole of their now ruined house. She didn’t stop looking until the woods closed around her and her home disappeared from sight.

>>>

They traveled for hours through the woods, the sun slowly sliding into place over the horizon and transforming the frost-bitten forest into the world’s largest chandelier. The constant rocking of the pearl-coated horse beneath her made Nora’s stomach turn and her thighs ached from the effort of staying upright. Tamlin’s utter silence didn’t make matters any better as he traced some secret path through the woods. Over time the rhythmic crunch of snow breaking beneath the mare’s hooves began to drive Nora to insanity.

You’re supposed to be getting me to fall in love with you, you know? Fucking idiot. 

The more and more Nora thought about the events from last night, the more irate she grew. He’d crashed into her house in the middle of the night in his beast form, scared them nearly to death, demanded Nora leave her home, and now wasn’t even putting in the effort to speak to her. It was deathly silent in these woods, as if even the squirrels and birds knew that royalty walked among them.

Nora huffed. Tamlin continued to walk unbothered. 

“You didn’t need to break into my house like that.” She said pointedly, breaking the silence. 

Tamlin’s left ear twitched. “What did you say?”

Nora rolled her eyes. With his fae senses there was no way he hadn’t heard her.

“I said you didn’t need to break into my house like that.”

He ignored her, which only fueled her desire to speak her mind out loud.

“You could have stolen me away in the night without bothering them. You could have waited until daylight when we weren’t sleeping.”

“You’re upset because my timing wasn’t convenient enough for you?”

Nora frowned. When he put it that way her words sounded quite childish. “What I’m saying is that you barged into my home with more pomp and circumstance and-and drama than you needed to.”

“You killed my friend.”

Nora stilled. She wanted to apologize for it. As much as she didn’t like Tamlin she regretted what she did. Part of the reason she hadn’t been able to fall asleep the night before was because she kept seeing the light leave Andras’s eyes. She couldn’t stop herself from hearing the pitiful whine that had escaped his throat as he finally stilled. She’d dared to touch his body to close his eyes. But as quickly as she’d laid her hands on him she’d reeled back. In the time it had taken her to gut the deer and bind it to the sled, his body had turned cold and rigid.

“You threatened to kill my family.” She said lamely.

“And yet they’re still alive, aren’t they?” “How can I trust you? How do I know you won’t just send someone else to kill them after we’re beyond the wall?” “I promised you they would be taken care of. I keep my promises. The question is whether you’ll keep yours.” His voice was gentler, more tired the further and further they got from Nora’s village. She thought his power would be tied to Prythian in some way - that he would gain strength as they neared the wall. Instead he was dragging his feet, limbs landing on the ground with heavier steps as they went along. She made note of every change in his body, storing the information away to mull over later.

“If it means they’re safe you can be sure I’ll keep true to my side of things.” She replied.

He’d been walking ahead of her the entire time, forcing the mare into a brisk pace that had Nora jolting in her seat, but after a few moments of cautious thinking he slowed down to walk beside her. Even while atop a horse, Tamlin stood taller than Nora, his horns dangling over her head like the swaying branches of a tree. She looked at them for a long while, tracing the grooves in the bone all the way down to where they connected to Tamlin’s skull. He stared at her the whole time.

“You don’t look like your parents.” Tamlin said carefully, catching her eye.

Nora snorted. With her dark hair and darker eyes and… well the rest of her, she was well aware that no piece of her looked like it came from Dinah or Jaskiel. 

“They’re not my parents.”

She flung her arm out, grasping at Tamlin’s horn for support when the mare took a quick jump over a fallen log. Her thighs were burning now, holding onto the lean body beneath her like a lifeline.

“Sorry.” Nora muttered, jerking her hand back to her body and cradling it beneath the folds of her cloak. She flexed it uncomfortably. 

She’d just touched the High Lord of the Spring Court. 

Suppressing a shiver she instead focused her attention on the strip of fabric still wrapped expertly around her forearm, running her fingers over the material and ignoring where it dried stiff with blood. It reminded her painfully of Dinah. She would have to mend the rest of her nightgown now. Nora hoped she hadn’t stained it too badly with any blood.

“What happened to your real parents?” Again he asked the question carefully, like she was a flight risk he couldn’t afford to scare off… which she very much was.

“They’re alive… or dead… I don’t know.” A truth. “I was stolen from them too and brought here from the Continent to be sold by slavers.” A lie.

“But you escaped.” He almost sounded impressed.

“Obviously.” 

And one day I’ll escape from you too. 

The words hung unspoken between the two of them like a spider’s web between two branches, delicate and complex. They descended into silence once more. 

“I’ll need to bind your eyes when we cross the wall.”

“What? Why?” Nora snapped her eyes to Tamlin and she forgot about the raven in the sky she’d been examining for the last twenty minutes.

“I cannot risk you seeing my lands.” His back tightened and he held his head up high.

“You said I would be safe in your lands.” 

“You will be. That doesn’t mean I want you to see all of them.”

Because you don’t want me to know how to run away. 

“Fine.”

A black silk sash appeared in Nora’s hands, cool as water and weightless as she obediently tied it tightly around her eyes. He must have enchanted the fabric because when she tugged at the knot she made it would not budge. She tested the blindfold but as much as she tried to pull it off it would not give. She huffed as she gave up, turning her head towards where she imagined Tamlin still was. He may be taller than a man and ten times heavier but his footsteps were imperceptible.

Blindness forced her to see with her ears, straining to identify every flutter of wings and rustle of snow falling onto the ground from a disturbed branch. She was just about to ask when they’d reach the wall when the world went still. 

All the sounds of the forest she’d been analyzing died out. Magic rippled through the air, humid and all consuming as it reached out for her. 

Her face paled. Suddenly she was back in the sea, screaming underwater as salt water filled her lungs and magic dragged her from her world to this one. Her reigns on the horse tightened, knuckles losing all their color. 

“Take off your cloak.” Tamlin said tightly. “You won’t need it anymore.” 

Nora only gripped the cloak tighter as though it would keep out the magic that threatened to consume her.

Tamlin said nothing, but he must have continued forward because despite Nora’s protests, the mare passed through the break in the wall. 

They passed through like they were passing through a waterfall. Magic rushed over Nora’s body, slick and alien, but it was quickly replaced by the comfortable heat of spring. The heady scent of flowers filled her nose, clouding her mind with their fragrance. While the oppressing winter in the Mortal Lands had driven all but the scavenger birds into their homes, here they fluttered about seeking companions with whom to live out the eternal spring. The subtle morning sun blanketed Nora’s shoulders, heating her up beneath her clothes. Still she refused to give up the last piece of her home. 

Tamlin let out a sigh of relief or despair - Nora couldn’t tell - as he felt his bond to Prythian grow once more. His magic would always run through his veins as intrinsically as blood - being in the Human Lands had done nothing to diminish that power - but he could not deny his connection to the magic that ran through Prythian, a magic that was beyond himself and to which he was only a borrower. These were the lands to which he would be tied until the end of his days. 

“Welcome to the Spring Court, Nora.” 

________________

Author’s Note: Hope you all enjoyed! Apologies it ended up a lot longer than I was expecting... whoops 😅. I have a masterlist up and am also starting a taglist so if you want to be added just let me know! 

Taglist: @myheartfollower​ @impossibelle

[ego-osbourne]

2023 Art Roundup

JAN - FEB - MAR - APR - MAY - JUN - JUL - AUG - SEP - OCT - NOV - DEC

(These aren’t entirely indicative of when I posted them, but when I actually finished them.)

These are some of my biggest/favorite projects through each month!

Piece details + Mod-posting below!

JAN - Asteía ; This was one of my first projects of the year that dealt with lighting, and additionally light from multiple sources! I also remember experimenting with backgrounds and how to make a character pop against a semi-detailed background without making them get lost in the piece.

FEB - Mora and Ego ; This was a good project on figuring out how to fill empty space while still keeping the atmosphere of a piece. It was also good perspective practice!

MAR - Sanguine and Ego ; Though I’m no longer too happy with the proportions or lighting of this piece, I still remember having a blast with it. Hearing feedback about them holding hands and Sanguine’s ear getting squished are very fun memories for me.

APR - Miraak and Ego ; This might be my favorite project of the whole year! Though I know I can do backgrounds better now, I remember being pretty confident and happy during the whole process! I think the motion/lighting/effects all came out very well :] ALSO it was the first piece I did with expressive masks for Miraak and Ego! Wahoo!

MAY - Mora and Ego (again) ; Though the last one was my personal favorite, I heard from a couple of friends that THIS was their favorite. Though a pain in the ASS to do, I’m especially happy with all the texture effects. This was also me experimenting with Mora’s design!

JUN - Erandur ; Not a particularly complicated/difficult piece, but one that was simply pure fun. Had a blast with lighting effects and atmosphere. It was also a good break from the family trip I was taking at the same time ,:]

JUL - Dagon ; Specifically his revamp! This was my first successful attempt at a (very) muscular body type that I liked! In fact, over the course of the year I’ve been pretty proud of my progress of expanding on body types. This one especially, though, was just very fun!

AUG - Iren and Rakell ; My first dive into a colored + shaded animatic (animation? It’s awful choppy lol)! FAR from perfect, but I was (and still am) so happy with the outcome. I particularly remember enjoying figuring out lines of movement and sound effects for the video.

SEP - Sanguine ; My first (and still only, though hopefully not for long) attempt at making Sanguine intimidating. I think this one is going in the right direction! As far as effects go, I actually had a very tough time with things because of a few layer-merging mishaps, but the final product was well-received!

OCT - The Warden ; After many-a night on Minecraft with friends, I realized just how much I loved the warden, and HAD to draw them. Redesigning characters is one of my absolute favorite things to do, especially when taking minimal details and expanding on them! They were super fun all around.

NOV - Miraak, Serana, Ego, and Ancano ; I’d been meaning to draw the siblings being siblings for a while now, but putting them all on one canvas was more than a little intimidating. I was so happy to have it done, though, and I kinda love seeing their colors clash together.

DEC - Sanguine (again) ; After not drawing him for so long, it was a blast doing so. The moment I was back home for winter break, I was ECSTATIC to get to work on this piece. #1 blorbo

~

This year has been an absolute ride.

I became a mod and then co-owner of the TES server that got me into making TDI and have made some really tight friendships over there (genuinely, anyone reading this who is/was in the cult server, I’m so damn happy to know you).

I’ve done some intense progress on TDI, and even though I didn’t QUITE accomplish my New Years Resolution of posting Ch. 1 this year, hopefully you can understand the drawbacks considering I am… //checks notes/// 70+ chapters in and still going.

I’m in college! Have been for a hot second now, but I’ve been working towards a ministry degree, and have future plans of getting a PhD after my bachelor’s so I can teach at a college level! I don’t think I talk a lot about my irl happenings, but hopefully that gives you an idea of why I might be a liiittle busy when it comes to writing. Ministry is an unforgiving degree when it comes to papers and meetings.

As earlier mentioned, I’ve learned how to do different body types, and am trying to find a good balance between shape language and inclusivity when it comes to bodies! I am… still struggling with feminine anatomy! Admittedly! But I’m willing to keep trying ,:]

And, overall, I (certainly hope I have) improved on my art. I have a much better sense of face shapes, line weights, and consistent details than I did at the beginning of the year. Always learning, but always improving, too!

I hope your year has gone well! Thank you so very much for checking out my blog. Tumblr has been a wonderful thing to get into and has led me to a lot of wonderful people. See you in the new year!

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

Summary: Hearts shifted

A/N: Hello lovelies,

Did everyone watch the three new episodes for Bad Batch? I was anxious, tears welled up, happy, frustrated. In short, my emotions were all over the place. But I can't wait to see the next episode.

Anyway, have a lovely weekend.

Love oo

Due to the past history of the OC there will be discussions alluding to past domestic abuse, please note that as it could be a trigger for some.

Warnings: physical closeness, grooming horses, scents, brush discussions, Din being adorable. If I miss any warnings, please let me know.

AO3 Link |   Words: 1,016 |   Previous -> Next

Main Master List   |  Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

THE CRESTWORLD

Chapter Eight

She’d been so focused on Din’s instructions and her own actions, she hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten; at least, not until she turned her head to look at him and then their eyes locked. Suddenly, the world stilled as her eyes slowly took in his features, felt the brush of his breath against her cheek, the woodsy, leather, gun oil scent that filled her nostrils. Her body realized and became all too aware of how close he was - - how his shirt and the warmth from his body brushed against her back, how the heat of his hand seeped into her own as he guided her. 

 In that moment there was nothing but a rushing hum in my ears, as the blood pushed through my veins without restraint, as my heart started thumping in my chest. 

All thoughts, questions, everything just stopped as I looked deep into his warm, kind and chestnut coloured eyes. 

I tried to remember the last time someone looked at me with such kindness and warmth, the fact that nothing came straight to my mind caused my heart to lurch. 

Time seemed to have lost all meaning in that moment, it was only when Misty shifted and knocked her leash against the barn breaking the weird tension between us, that I finally looked elsewhere.

I cleared my throat, shifting away from him a little, hoping he didn’t think I found him uncomfortable. In reality, it wasn’t him that made me uncomfortable, it was that weird feeling in my heart that sent a tingling sensation down my arms to my hands. 

“I think I got it.” I stated as I found my strength once again, now that I wasn’t looking at him or sensing his warmth. 

Din cleared his throat, nodding as he rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t meant to invade her personal space, or to be so close that he could practically smell the soft, spicy, citrusy, balsamic scent coming off her, it was so different from anything Camilla had ever worn before. Was it her shampoo or was that her body wash? Maybe it was her lotion? Either way, he found himself leaning a little to smell it once again. He dug his nails into his palm, getting him to fight back to reality. He closed his eyes, letting the pain in his hands snap him out of whatever that was, he shifted away from her. He opened his eyes focusing on Misty, grounding himself as he tried to understand what just happened. Why did he just … he shook his head, focusing back on the task at hand.

“Good. Once you finish currying Misty, then we move on to brushing her coat.”

“Are there different brushes for each stage?”

Din shifted his head, “Yes and no. There are different types of horse brush, for example a body brush, great for removing dust, dried sweat from fine coats. Great for improving circulation and evenly distributing natural oils within the coat. Then there’s a dandy brush, used for bushing off mud, dander and grease, ideal for heavy or coarse coats. It’s too harsh for fine coated horses, such as thoroughbreds, and usually used during winter months when coats are thicker. There’s a flick brush, designed to flex and flick away debris, they’re best used after an initial groom, like we are.” He reached over and passed the flick brush to Ann, “There’s two types of flick brushes, one for fine coats and one for coarse coats. I also have a water brush, which is pretty self explanatory, a finishing brush which you use in the final step in the grooming process, used to polish and create an ultra shine. Then you have your grooming mitt, which is a soft fluffy mitt that can be used instead of a finishing brush. Finally, you have what’s called a curry comb, which cleans your brushes, keeps them lasting longer, and keeps them clean causing them to work better. Anyway, for the flick brush, you want to use short flicking motions to brush off the dirt we dislodged. Brush the area we just went over, and remember to avoid the head, mane, tail and lower legs. So begin at the neck and work your way around, following the direction of the hair growth.”

I nodded taking in everything he said, I glanced over my shoulder seeing him turn to walk away, “Where are you going?” The question was out of my mouth before I could even stop it, not sure why I was even caring where he went. It wasn’t any of my business. 

“I’m gonna check on Bessie, you mentioned earlier, you thought she was in pain, so I’m gonna go see if she’s alright.” He nodded, tipping his head towards me before heading off to look for Bessie. 

It was a while before Din came back, he looked at Misty, eyeing the work I did.

“Great job, now onto the next step.” He directed me to bring over Taika and start the process over with him. By the time we finished lunch had already come and gone, it was almost two in the afternoon. I glanced at my watch and realized he must be just as hungry as I am. 

He didn’t know why but just watching her as she rested against the corral while Taika and Misty were grazing, made him realize what Cobb mentioned when he brought her to the ranch. What was it again, ‘You know Ann’s not all that bad, she seems sweet. Easy on the eyes, and has a very enjoyable laugh.’ He couldn’t deny it, she wasn’t all that bad, and yeah she was easy on the eyes. He didn’t find her drop dead gorgeous, but she was quite pretty and very capable. Despite never having worked on a farm before she was very reliable, willing to learn and was always asking questions. In fact, he hadn’t had to wake her up or remind her to have dinner ready for Grogu once. She just sort of fell into place. Kind of like she belonged.

AO3 Link |   Words: 1,016 |   Previous -> Next

Main Master List   |  Once Upon a Time on the Razor Crest

@littlemisspascal @sprout-fics @liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24 @spicymcnuggies @lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @tortor-mcgee @sarcasmismyonlydefense24 @chiyo13