#but also pushing him away out of a survival instinct | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

itsgrimeytime · 5 months

Text

like father, like son || Rick Grimes (TWD) x gn!Reader

AVAILABLE ON AO3

request for @zomb-1-egutzz

Inspiration: I Wanna Be Yours by Arctic Monkeys

Summary: Taking care of Carl, was like instinct. Ever since you've met him, you've just cared for him like your own. You don't know why, you just slotted into his side. And you thought that was pretty simple. But, what you had never thought about, was what it would mean for Rick.

TWs: mention of Lori's death, mention of Hershel's death, mention of Beth's death, angst, crying, essentially a panic attack, pent-up emotions, cursing, blood, gunshot wounds, injuries, unrequited love (but not really), and all things TWD.

[[A/N: hey bestie <333, hope you like it. I write as a stress reliever but this one kinda hurt a little bit. And just fyi, Carl is alive and well, (canon is not real, so it will not hurt me). Also, Rick is down bad in this. Terribly down bad. Enjoy :))) ]]

You were a long-time family friend of the Greene's, and when you had nowhere else to go, you went to Hershel's farm. Even before the apocalypse, you helped when you could on the farm, and you knew all of them really well. A little like they were family.

But when it all started... everything went to shit for you pretty quickly.

And you... you had nowhere else to go.

With your family's blood on your hands and visions of unhinged jaws (that you didn't think you'd ever wash away), you ran as fast as you could. You just let your feet guide you and ended up on the Greene farm.

You still remember how hard they hugged you when you showed up, even with the blood (their blood) all over you. They held you then and kept you breathing for a long time. You don't know what you would've done without them.

But one day (after weeks of being helpless and grieving a loss you just couldn't get over, not really), you just pushed it all down with one motto: keep breathing.

You didn't get to enjoy life anymore, how could you? The world was ending, and all you needed to do was stay alive.

You didn't have to like it.

So you asked Hershel how to shoot a gun, and taught yourself how to use a knife. You knew Hershel didn't like it, the violence, but you wouldn't hear it. Because if your family had lost their lives, you sure as hell weren't losing yours.

The Greenes were worried about you, you could tell. Every day that went by where you didn't smile or laugh, and instead, practiced shooting bottles or killing a few walkers for the thrill of it, they stared at you just a little longer. With just a mix of worry and pity.

You didn't want to worry them, but you were just doing what you had to, to survive.

If you thought about your family... you'd probably run into the walkers. Tear the life out of your body yourself. How were you supposed to enjoy life when they got that privilege ripped away? It wasn't fair.

So, you avoided everything else and kept your focus on five things: breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food. That was it. You would even offer to go get things out of your own volition, and all your trips made you good at killing walkers. You did it effortlessly early on, and you're pretty sure the Greenes couldn't decide if that was a good or bad thing.

But everything changed when a Dad showed up begging Hershel to save his kid.

That day had made your head spin, seeing a little boy have a gunshot wound. It made your eyes burn, and your head fill with what plagued your nightmares (unhinged jaws and bloody hands). You avoided the kid at all costs.

You hadn't initially known Rick, or even really wanted to (him, Lori, and Shane were definitely far too much for you to handle) but you were kind of the mediator. Hershel hated the violence that his group had, but he loved you. And Rick's group agreed with your 'violent' ways, so naturally, you sat right in the middle.

You didn't want it, perse, but you got used to it pretty quickly. You truly couldn't count on both hands how many times you had to step physically in between Hershel and Rick. So, somehow, someway, you'd earned his trust and respect.

That being said, you didn't really talk. Rick had a lot on his shoulders, with a pregnant wife, an injured son, and whatever the hell he and Shane had going on (you stayed the fuck away from that). And you weren't really a 'get to know me' kind of person at the time.

But, everything shifted when his kid got better.

You watched him kind of roam around the farm a lot. Rick and Lori had a lot going on, you understood that, and you know Rick tried but he still looked... lonely. And there was something heavy in you that knew he wasn't going to really have a childhood, that he lost something so precious.

There was nothing different that day, at all. You woke up, made sure your knife was safe in your pocket and went out. You did that often, even though Hershel and the girls hated it, just disappeared into nearby neighborhoods or whatever buildings you could get into (you were getting good at picking locks). That day you were looking for anything you could get your hands on, anything.

Endlessly walking through a culdesac, darting in between each house, trying to find anything of value. Food, water, something to help with shelter-

Instead, you found something else.

In the dead grass of one of these classy houses' front yard was one soccer ball. It was dirty, but not too bad for the apocalypse (you had seen far worse, and were probably worse yourself actually). With a thought, you picked it up in your hands, squeezing it, and it wasn't flat either.

You weren't sure why (or maybe you knew exactly why), but that's all you brought back to the farm.

Every day, when your brain would get to be too much, you'd throw it around in your hands or dribble it around the yard. At first, Maggie had looked at you oddly, but now, it seemed to relax her (and Beth and Hershel). It was healthier, or they, at the very least, thought so.

You could pretty much immediately feel his eyes on you though, a little longingly. Maybe that's why, when you'd never kicked it too far in the entire time you had it, you kicked it too far.

It rolled up and hit him in the back of the leg.

He turned to look at you, blue eyes sparkling a little, and then down at the ball.

On instinct, you spoke, "Shit."

The kid looked directly at you then.

"Don't say that, kid," you mended, quickly -maybe even a little awkwardly.

"Carl," he spoke then.

You questioned, "What?"

"My name's Carl," he explained with quite the intention in his voice, "-not kid."

You laughed a little, maybe for the first time in a while. You could nearly hear Maggie's gaze snap to you at the sound. She was always the most worried.

"Well, Carl," you hummed, playfully, "-you gonna pass me my ball back?"

He pressed his lips together in a thin line like he was thinking -the hat on his head wobbled a little. It was endearing.

"Only if you let me play too," he negotiated, a big grin on his face and something in you softened (for the first time in a long time).

You tilted your head, hand on your hip, "You drive a hard bargain, sir."

Carl laughed, and you felt your smile grow bigger. Now, you felt more eyes on you, Rick and Lori. Or at least Rick.

Apparently, you were making quite the spectacle.

"Alright, Carl," you finally replied, "-you've got a deal."

That was when it all started when Carl changed your life. Every day that you could, you'd play a game of soccer with him, eventually it developed more into a chatty sort of game. He told you a lot, and you told him about the things you used to do as a kid.

It felt like you had a hand in helping him keep his innocence. It was nice.

You remember the eyes sort of fading off of you, well. Except for one.

Rick was always watching. You couldn't understand if it was a Carl thing, or a worrying thing, or what exactly. But, you did notice it.

And eventually, Carl convinced him to join too.

"C'mon, Dad," he pleaded, "-just one game."

"Carl, I gotta-"

"Please," he turned on the puppy dog eyes, you laughed a little at how he softened immediately. His eyes shot to yours a second at the noise, you didn't think much of it.

"How are we supposed to play wit' just three of us?" He relented, just a smidge, "-Don't we need equal teams?"

Carl frowned.

Your mouth was open before you could even stop it, "Oh, please, I'm good enough to take the two of you on my own."

Rick's lips quirked into a smile, you had the thought that he was handsome before shoving it far away, "Are ya?"

"I am," you reiterated, just doing what felt natural, "-you too scared to try, Grimes?"

Carl laughed at that, almost giddy, it made something in your chest warm. Mission accomplished.

And with a breath, Rick readied himself -blue eyes solid on yours, "'S see whatcha got, Y/N."

That wouldn't be the last time the three of you would play soccer together, but it would be the first time you really got to know Rick. It remained that way, where you just played with Rick and Carl on days they could or days you could.

You'd found a connection, and it was nice.

But then, you were kind of a friend to Carl. You truly cared about him, yeah, you weren't on the level of a parent for him. Not at all. That just wasn't your dynamic, you didn't want to step on any toes.

Lori's or Rick's.

Before you could stop it, the fateful day arrived.

You were strung between a delicate mix of concern and disbelief. The overthrow of the farm was big, and maybe so was finding the prison, but this... this day was much worse.

You'd known Lori a little bit better then, she talked to you a little (because you were always around Carl). And she seemed nice, really, just in a fucked up situation that she could hardly handle herself. Nevertheless, to handle it for Carl. Plus, the whole Shane situation... He was dead now, and that really couldn't be easy on her conscience. (You kind of gathered the situation a little bit, when you were getting to know Rick. He hadn't said anything, but you understood enough.)

And when she went into labor, you hated that you weren't hopeful. Hated it.

Carl went with Maggie to help deliver, and your heart twisted in your chest (so insanely worried) but you needed to help the others.

When Maggie came out of the room, with just Carl and the baby -blood all over her hands, your heart sunk to the bottom of your chest. Lower, if it could. There was this little spark of hope that Carl was okay, but then you looked at him, really looked at him.

Rick was crying, and belligerent, and he did the very same. Just looked at his son, "No, no, no-"

God, he... he didn't-

You don't think you could ever forget the next moment.

A sob was racking up your throat, heavy and so suffocating as you watched Rick just lose it and Carl stayed steady in place, only looking at the ground. And you felt like you were going to throw up.

Stomach twisting, as your eyes got cloudy.

You hadn't even noticed it, maybe because your mind was reeling, but then you heard the slap of footsteps and then a body running into yours. Carl, Carl-

Hands shaking, your hands wrapped around him, holding him tightly -swallowing back what you could. Your body moved on its own.

You crouched down, you couldn't stop the tears then, eyes skimming over his face. He was just looking at you, blue eyes filling with tears, and before you knew it you were cupping his face and wiping all of them away.

"Oh, baby, baby-" you were whispering, just for him to hear, "-I'm so sorry."

And then, you pulled him into another hug. That time you didn't let go, you would hold him until he did. Tears wetting your shoulder you only squeezed him tighter -kissing him on the forehead when it felt like your soul was crushed into pieces.

That was where it started.

You still went on trips, but you stayed around a lot more. Because, as you were caring for Carl, you also started caring for Rick. They went hand-in-hand. That was much more important than anything else.

It started with going on trips, and getting Carl books and candy when you could. It grew from there though, you started siphoning off some of your food to give him extra. When he would get hurt, even small little cuts, you were immediately there -patching him up. Making sure he was completely fine.

And Rick... well, he was more complicated. It was dragging him away from the farm when he seemed so tired he could barely stand, it was getting him out of bed when he didn't want to even breathe, it was making sure he was eating, and it was sometimes guiding him back to reality when he saw Lori.

He started getting better eventually, and you did convince him to go see the baby. He'd been avoiding her as much as physically possible; you told him he should.

"She's a piece of Lori that you'll always have, Rick. Her and Carl."

He'd look at you a certain type of way you couldn't label then, but eventually agreed. So, you thought it was going well. As he became more conscious again though, similar to his previous self (sometimes you thought maybe even better), he started noticing.

Rick saw all that Carl had gathered, the finger pointed back to you. He was eating candy, the finger pointed back to you. Carl fell and scraped his knees, you were near immediately by his side while Rick watched (the finger pointed back to you).

And when you ate, you'd done how you always did, almost on instinct. Siphoning off some of your food and piling it onto Carl's plate.

You're not sure when Rick caught that, at all, really. But you knew he did.

Because, eventually, he started sitting beside you, and as quick as you'd siphon off to Carl, he'd siphon some of his off to you.

The first time he'd done it, you froze -staring at your plate.

"Rick, you don't-"

He didn't even flinch, blue eyes taking you in -grateful, "I do."

"Well," you reasoned, "-don't do it every day. You need to eat too."

"Don't ya give some to Carl every day?"

"Yeah, but-"

"No buts," he promptly finished, smiling at you in a new type of way, continuing his conversation with Daryl.

He'd done similar things, and eventually, your care spanned over to Judith. It wasn't as pressing as Carl, as Beth usually had her dealt with, but you'd been the one to feed her a few times (sat right beside Carl). And you won't lie you did do the baby voice a few times.

You didn't know it then, but Rick was looking at you in a new type of way.

And then, things happened in rapid succession.

The Governor did what he did, and Hershel died right in front of your eyes. You grabbed Maggie that day so tight, holding her as you both fell to the ground. It felt just like when your family... Your heart was thrown out of your chest and stomped into the dirt.

The fall of the prison didn't give you much time to grieve. You'd escaped with Carl and Rick, Judith had disappeared and you hoped with everything in your chest that she was still alive. God, you had never felt so low in your life.

Those days weren't good, and you had holed yourself up -lock and key. The only person who could through to you was Carl, despite how much Rick tried.

Breathing, shelter, protection, water, and food, but just for a bigger audience now.

The Claimers only proved you right. Seeing Carl like that, the threats of what they were going to do to him? You would've snapped if Rick hadn't.

"He's mine."

That day, you felt yourself come back again.

You held Carl tight against your chest, rubbing his hair over and over. Just before that, you scanned his whole body carefully -looking everywhere for anything at all. You would've killed them again if you could have if there was.

Holding him, you recenter yourself -calming the shake of your hands and the beating of your heart. You whispered, "You're okay, you're okay, you're okay-"

Carl had stopped you then, leveling his blue eyes on you, "I'm okay."

You smiled, maybe a little teary, reiterating, "You're okay."

And then, you saw Rick.

That was the thing about you, you were hardwired to care for them both at this point (for maybe more reasons than one, but you wouldn't admit that out loud). Making sure Carl was entirely fine, you kissed his forehead and spoke.

"Imma go help your Dad, okay?"

Hunting down a rag and a little bit of extra water, you slowly made your way over to him. He still had his eyes closed, and his hands were shaking; you simply sat right in front of him -wordlessly. You hardly even breathed, not wanting to startle him at all, but somehow still wanting to to bring him back.

You waited, patiently, for his eyes to open again, and when they did, you smiled a little.

"Hey, Grimes," you whispered, brandishing the rag, "-Thought you might need a little help, that okay?"

He looked at you in the same type of way he always did, one that you still couldn't label.

Before speaking lowly and a little slurred in his accent, "Yeah, 'at's okay."

You took a careful breath and leaned forward -gently scrubbing the blood off of his skin. Moving slowly, his eyes fluttered shut, and something in your chest tightened. He trusted you so much.

Your heart lept into your throat at the thought, and you took the moment to just look at Rick. How he differed from the first time you saw him, the time in his face. Longer hair that curled, the stubble that climbed up his cheeks, he was so different, but still somehow the same. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

That wasn't new, but it felt like it was.

With a breath, you continued wiping away what you could -pushing all around his face, smoothing over his lips, and dabbing a little on his facial hair. You moved slowly, not wanting to irritate his skin, but it made it take a little longer. As you did so, your fingertips brushed along his skin -just a little. It made your head spin.

You leaned back, satisfied, before grabbing his hands -left one first. You looked at them a moment, eyeing the callouses and the rough skin along his palm. His life was riddled on them, practically written there.

You cleared your throat, blinking back into focus.

Scrubbing away on the back and then flipping it to the front, you repeated the process.

He was looking at you now, blue eyes intently focused. You felt his steady gaze as you curled your hands around his, and for a moment it felt like you couldn't breathe.

Your heart beating heavily in your chest, you tried to stay focused.

When his skin was a sort of pink instead of blood red, you let go of his hands. Decidedly, you patted his cheek with a smile (the buzz of his skin against yours made your head spin).

"All better," you chimed, playfully.

He laughed a little then, and you felt something in you stir. Long ago dormant. Handsome, your mind spoke.

It was suddenly very hard to ignore it now, though. This close to his face, and he kind of looked like he-

With a breath, snapping your eyes from his and clearing your throat. "I'll um, go see if Carl needs me."

He just smiled at you in a certain type of way.

The two of you never talked about it again, but you did find him looking at you more.

And then Terminus.

To think about it now, made your skin crawl and bile rise up your throat. Beth died right in front of you, shot right through the head. She wasn't... There was no way-

You felt part of yourself crumble that you didn't think you could get back. God, she was so young-

You had new nightmares; they made your stomach twist and your sleep come to a relative halt. It wasn't just your family now (although it kind of was), it was Beth and Hershel. They had both been so sudden, your mind was still reeling. The gunshot bouncing through your ears, even now, as you lay on a blanket -Carl just beside you.

Your eyes snapped to him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. Alive, it thrummed along your mind, alive.

You watched it for a few moments, letting your mind settle on that fact. Carl is safe, Carl is fine. Something in your shoulders relaxed, and your breaths weren't as heavy in your lungs.

Alive, alive, alive, alive.

Your stomach twisted because you didn't know if Judith was.

Instinctively, you shot up in your spot, breaths hollowed out in your chest. You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back to the ground beneath your fingers. Chancing a look at Carl again, you found him still fast asleep.

You exhaled a long breath, you weren't going to sleep tonight. Every time you closed your eyes, you'd either see... them or Carl could be hurt, there was no good reason to sleep.

Shaking your hands, you stood up. You stood there a moment, taking in the night -the buzz of the bugs, the shine of the stars, and the (luckily) very distant groans of the walkers.

"Ya okay?"

You startled in place, shit. Rick was on watch duty, you forgot. You tried to volunteer, but he'd refused ("'Aven't seen you sleep a second."). You weren't sure how to feel about how attentively he seemed to watch you.

You bit at your lips a second, swallowing, and wiping your hands down your legs. Your eyes were fogging up, and your throat was clogged. You felt a little like you couldn't breathe-

"Y/N?"

You blinked, deliriously, and your eyes were watery now, and it felt somehow like your lungs were filled. A bit like every breath got stuck in your throat.

"Hey, hey, look at me, sweetheart."

And then, Rick was suddenly in front of you. You hadn't even heard him move, the pounding of your heart was so loud-

With the gentlest of movements, he held your jaw, bringing your eyes to his.

"Hey," he spoke gently, concern flitting through his eyes, "-hey. 'At's goin' on?"

You swallowed, something clawing up your throat (but your heart was softer in your head now), your eyes falling to his jacket, "I just-"

"C'mon, talk to me," he hummed, bringing his eyes to yours again -something heavy in his eyes, worry.

"I just," and you felt your voice catch in your throat, you felt the tears slip out of your eyes, "-I just... I just miss them, and... and every time I close my eyes, Rick, it's just-"

His thumbs rubbed away your tears, gently moving back and forth, "I know, baby, I know. I miss 'em too."

Something in your mind noted that 'baby' was new, but you weren't focused on that. Your mind was running at 100 miles an hour, and all you could see clearly was Rick.

Your body acted on instinct, as you threw yourself into him -digging your face into his shoulder and wrapping your arms around his neck. He seemed slow to react for a moment, but carefully, his hands came to wrap around your waist.

You took a deep breath in, just smelling the woodsy smell he always seemed to carry around with him. It made the tension in your body melt, and he seemed to notice it -tightening his grip slightly.

"I gotcha," he whispered, maybe like he was a little scared to break the moment, "-'s gonna be okay, I promise."

You fell asleep on his shoulder later that night, one of his arms tight along your side. And if he shushed everyone that morning afterward (wanting to keep you close as long as possible maybe), kissing your temple whenever you stirred, looking at you a little like you were the most precious thing in the world, you'd never know.

It was easier after that. Any time you felt it all coming back up, Rick would be right there, hand smoothed along your shoulder, pushing you into his side, or brushing his hand along yours while you walked. You weren't sure if you could get used to it all.

And then, a good day came.

Judith, baby Judith was back.

You felt the sob wrack up through your throat, as you smoothed your hand over her little hair. Your breaths were shaky but you were smiling, and so were both Rick and Carl. All of you were huddled together, crying, and for a split second, it felt like maybe you were a little family.

You bit back the thought but peeked up at Rick just to find him looking right back at you. Something in your chest fluttered.

Finding Alexandria was a little like a fever dream, all of you weren't trusting it, especially since Terminus. But eventually, something in you relaxed as you watched Carl know people his age and find friends. You weren't as scared anymore.

That being said, you had your own home, but it stayed empty. You were constantly in the Grimes' house. Whether for Carl, Judith, or Rick, you were always there. And Rick didn't seem to mind at all. (Sometimes you thought he preferred it.)

That day was a normal one, you'd crossed on over to the Grimes' -bouncing a little on your toes. It was your day to watch Judith, well, it always kind of ended up being a team effort at the end. But, if Rick had something to do, you'd be on baby duty.

Walking in like you always did, the house was eerily quiet.

You pursed your lips, "Rick?"

He called out, from the kitchen you'd guessed (you could hear the sizzle of a pan), "In 'ere!"

You moved with a practiced grace, smoothing around the piles of toys like you lived here (and in essence, you kind of did). Just as you entered the doorway, you started again.

"Hey, where are our kids?"

And then you stepped into the room and got a look at Rick. Clean-shaven Rick. Sharp jawline, blue eyes, Rick.

Your mind went completely blank.

He turned to you then, sort of smiling, "Our?"

Blinking, you cleared your throat, "Sorry, what?"

"You said," he was stepping closer, something shining in his eyes, "-our kids."

It was hard to focus, but you'd gathered what he said.

"Shit, sorry," you started, scrambling a little, "-I didn't mean to-"

"No, no," he dismissed, eyes intently focused on yours (somehow you think his facial hair distracted from his eyes, were they always that blue?), "-you're right, darlin'. 'Ey are as much yours as 'ey are mine."

You took a deep breath in, deflecting a little and motioning to his face, "When did you...?"

"This mornin'," he answered, turning back to the pan (breakfast, you guessed), "-why? It look 'at bad?"

Your head was spinning, but you answered anyway.

"What, no," you answered, instinctively, "-it looks good. Great, actually."

He smiled at you in a sort of way you couldn't read, wearing his pajamas and hair slightly tussled -your mouth went dry.

"Yeah?"

You willed everything in yourself to say something witty, playful, like normal. But he was still looking at you, focused, and all your brain could think was blue-

"Yeah," you answered quietly.

He hummed a moment, hand coming up to rub at his jaw. Calloused fingers against the most certainly smooth skin, you briefly thought about touching it yourself.

You cleared your throat, "Sorry, so where are th- our kids?"

Rick's eyes smoothed over your face a second before he smiled, shaking his head, and dropped his eyes back to the pan, "Judith's still sleepin', and Carl is at a friend's."

"Which friend?" you asked, instinctively.

"He's fine, baby," he laughed a little like he was testing the word, "-ere's no need to be worried."

Baby rattled around your head for a few seconds, especially coming from that face. The last time he called you that, you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. And come to think of it, with how you were reacting to a shaved face, maybe he was onto something.

"Grimes," you leveled, but there wasn't any bite.

"I'm serious," he added, looking at you (blue, blue) -trying to convey it to you.

You pursed your lips, deadpanning, "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Maybe," he smiled at you, almost fondly, and your knees nearly buckled.

God, you needed to get a hold of yourself.

"I'll figure it out later," you remarked -passively, "-What are you making?"

He seemed to pause, eyes skimming along you like he was suddenly taking you in, before stepping to the side, "Come n' see for yourself."

You had the spare thought that he was doing it on purpose, before swatting it away and gathering by his side. Mindlessly, your brain noted his elbow bumping into you and the swarm of body heat that radiated off of him. You blinked it away.

He had a few things going, typical breakfast stuff, but you did decisively notice what looked to be a single portion of your favorite.

"Is that-"

"For ya? Yeah," he answered, unflinchingly, "-'Figured I could be sweet today."

You quipped back, looking up at him, "What a change of pace, Grimes."

He laughed at that, your eyes smoothed over his smile before dropping back to the food. Your breaths felt a little hollow in your chest for an entirely different reason.

You stood there and helped portion of the food, focused on placing plates out for him to then fill. You could feel his eyes steady on you as you did so, just until he started portioning. You promptly grabbed one of the other foods and portioned it yourself.

As soon as you finished, Rick spoke up.

"Did ya mean it?"

You looked at him, curiously, "What?"

"Our kids," he answered, something flickering behind his eyes, "-Do ya really think of 'em as your own?"

"As long as I'm not... overstepping," you clarified, dropping the pan into the sink, "-yeah, of course, I do."

He smiled a little, the flicker stronger now, "Really?"

"Well, yeah," you laughed, a little uncertain now, "-Should I not?"

"No," he echoed out, something heavy in his tone, "-you should. 'Ey're yours."

"Then, why-"

""S just nice to 'ear," he explained, pulling another one of the pans into the sink -sliding in just beside you.

"Why?" you questioned.

Rick looked at you, eyes flickering along your face, seeming to decide on something, "Can I show ya somethin'?"

You quirked a brow, playfully, "What is this something?"

"A gift," he answered, naturally.

You blinked, a little deliriously, "For me?"

"Yeah," he hummed, taking your wrist in his hand (your brain turned to mush) and guiding you through the house, "-'Course it is."

"Where did you get a gift?"

"On a run," he answered, easily, pulling you into his bedroom before letting go. He wandered over to his closet.

"Why-" you laughed a little, "-Why were you thinking of me on a run?"

Rick didn't hesitate a second, hands skimming over some shelves, "I'm always thinkin' of ya."

Your lips snapped shut, as your eyes just followed him around the room.

Since he was so preoccupied, you let your eyes roam over his jaw, the angular lines of his nose, the curve of his Adam's apple, the slight push of his lips, and the curl that seemed to trail down his forehead. You almost adjusted it yourself, but you fought back the urge.

"'Ere it is," he sighed, relieved, before seeming to gather something up in his arms.

You tried to peek over his shoulder, but he decidedly kept them too raised.

"Ya ready?" He chimed, excitingly.

You quipped, smiling, "I was born ready, Grimes."

Rick laughed at that, and you bit back the grin that threatened to slip across your face. There was something so domestic about all of this, it made your breath rattle in your chest, and your heart skip a beat.

And then, he turned around.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He held in his hands, a brand-new soccer ball, still in the package. Your brain buzzed for a moment, it was so sentimental. It made your head spin, making you a little breathless. A grin grew wide along your face, lips curling up.

"No way," you muttered, leaning forward and skimming your fingers across it, "-that is so sappy, Grimes."

He laughed a little, and your eyes flicked to him where a pink dusted up to the top of his ears. Your smile shone even brighter.

"Figured you could let me and Carl try to gain a little on your record," he smiled.

"What was it again?" you grinned, taking the ball into your hands, "-Four to zero?"

"Six," he corrected, instinctively (like he remembered), "-Six to zero."

Wordlessly, you gently took the box into your hands, his eyes steady on you.

"How long did it take to find this?"

"I was lookin' for the past few runs," he answered -vaguely.

"Looking?" You questioned, "-You plan this out, Rick?"

He hummed, smiling, "Maybe."

You quirked a brow, not quite looking at him, "What's the occasion, Grimes?"

He fell quiet then, and you promptly dropped your smile and looked at him. Eyes skimming along his face, he didn't seem upset. He seemed entirely the opposite, actually.

Blue eyes looking at you like they always did.

"Rick?" You asked, concern smoothing through you, "-Everything alright?"

He smiled a little, shaking his head a little, "God, you're... you're... you're unbelievable."

"Um," you flustered a little, holding the ball tighter to you, "-is that a good or a bad thing?"

"Good," he answered, with probably the biggest grin, "-great, it's a great thin'."

"Yeah? Well," you muttered out, a little frazzled, "-um, thank you."

He laughed a little bit, then but it slowly dissipated into the air. Leaving you and him, and his crazy blue eyes (seriously, how have you never noticed that?).

Rick spoke breathlessly then, rushed as if it was just waiting to come out (like it was building, building, building, until it burst), "I love you."

You dropped the ball (and box) right onto your feet. It stung a little.

"Shit," you hissed, before scrambling, "-Wait, that wasn't to you. I... I just I hit my toes with the box, and it hurt-"

He smiled at you even brighter then, eyes dropping to your feet, "Ya alright?"

"Yeah, what," you cleared your throat, "-I'm fine. I'm just... a little in shock, I guess."

"Yeah?" He asked, something lilting in his tone and you almost felt like he got closer to you.

"Yeah," you breathed out, "-I just... I never could've imagined a man like you, um, loving me."

He was definitely getting closer, blue eyes flickering between the two of yours, "A man like me?"

"It's a good thing," you explained, "-You're just caring, and I love your kids, and-"

His face was breath away from yours. Your lips moved before you could think about it.

"-handsome," you finished a little breathlessly.

He grinned then, crinkling at his eyes, and something there, deep in the blue. You couldn't tell if it was mischievous or loving or maybe even teasing-

"Am I?"

Something in you snapped.

You practically jumped forward, arms wrapping around his neck, and lips pressing to his. Rick laughed into it (which made you laugh a little too), but his hands sank to your waist entirely on instinct.

It was a little desperate, as Rick tilted his head just the right way and seemed to pour everything into his lips. Which were very much already good on their own. It made you dizzy, and you nearly stumbled in your steps, but he held you a little tighter and kept you in place.

Before, pulling you forward even more.

It sent a shock through your spine and made the breath slink out of your lungs.

Speaking of breath-

You pulled back, taking a deep breath in -mind a little hazy, "Jesus Christ."

Rick laughed, but still pressed forward, leaving little kisses on your lips -surface level. Again, and again, and again, and again-

Laughing, you moved your hands to his face, pulling him back, "Rick, you need to breathe, yeah?"

"Not as bad as I need ya," he retorted, before pressing kisses along your jaw.

It made your head spin, and maybe you were a little dizzy but you didn't think it was from the lack of oxygen.

"Rick," you urged, laughing.

He mindlessly moved down to your neck, a little like he couldn't get enough. It zapped through your spine again.

"Rick," you repeated, maybe with a little less laughter, "-c'mon, I have to tell you something."

He groaned, before pulling back to face you, blue eyes focused. Rick looked at your smile, and bit down his own.

You took a breath in, and cradled his face again (his skin was soft), "I love you too."

He grinned big and wide then, something shining in his eyes, "Ya don't know how long I 'ave waited to 'ear 'at."

"How long?"

He answered, with ease, "Since I saw ya givin' Carl your food."

"Rick," you almost soothed, "-that was forever ago. Why didn't you say something?"

"Was never the right time," he hummed, kissing you at the hinge of your jaw, "-I was goin' through somethin' and then ya were."

You hummed a moment, finally pushing back the loose curl.

"And I just-" he exhaled a breath, "-I wanted to make sure ya felt the same. Didn't want the kids to lose ya."

"Even if I didn't love you, Grimes," you soothed, trailing your hands along his jaw, "-They would've never lost me."

He just looked at you then, a little like he couldn't believe you were in front of him. Couldn't believe you were real.

"They're our kids," you offered with a teasing smile, "-are they not?"

"Yeah, 'ey are."

And without another breath, he kissed you so hard that it felt like your breath was knocked out of your lungs. But there was no way in hell that you were stopping.

You'd waited long enough for this.

He grinned against your lips, mindlessly kicking the soccer ball out of the way to get closer to you. Whispers of 'Ours' between every press of lips like he couldn't believe it. Or maybe like it was all he'd ever wanted.

And apparently, he had waited just as long.

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #its griming time #stuff n' thangs #rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #ricky dicky doo dah grimes #twd #twd rick #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes oneshot #protective!rick

486 notes · View notes

multificimagines · 8 days

Text

Fandom: Honkai Star Rail

Pairing: Moze x reader

Description: You’re fatally injured

Notes: Um I don’t have a comment for this one lol

Warnings: Blood, very vague descriptions of injury

Moze tries not to think about the blood—pooling around you, dripping and smeared across your skin and clothing, and onto him. Now that the adrenaline of the fight has worn off, the thoughts are clawing their way into his mind. Filthy. Grimey. Unclean.

But the blood can be washed away, the clothing can be replaced if necessary. You, on the other hand—you can never be replaced. So he pushes past the sick feeling in his gut, trying instead to focus on that—on you.

“Moze…I’m sorry.” you say, softly, so softly that he almost doesn’t hear you.

But he does.

For a moment, Moze is truly, terribly afraid that you’re gone. “What?”

“I’m bleeding on you…” your words are slurring together in the haze of blood loss. He almost feels relieved that you responded.

But that relief is overshadowed by your words. That shouldn’t be your main concern—not now, while you were bleeding out. While you were so close to dying.

“Don’t worry about that,” he says.

“But…you…”

“Talk about something else,” he interrupts. “Stay awake. Just…talk about something else.”

You’re quiet for a moment, but you lean your head closer to his chest. “You’re warm,” you hum. “I think…I could stay like this forever. If I have to die, it’ll be nice to die in your arms…”

He reminds himself that you’ve lost a lot of blood, and that some of that blood is from a head injury. That your words mean nothing, that you’re too delirious to know what you’re saying.

Hopefully you’re also too delirious to notice how his heart betrays him, pounding in his chest in response to your rambling.

When Moze arrives at the infirmary, and hands you off to the Yaoqing doctors, you cling to him, reluctant to let go, but you’re too weak to put up any real fight.

It isn’t until later, when he’s finished cleaning all evidence of the fight and injury, and is scrubbing the blood off of his skin, that he realizes for a moment, when you breathed in his existence and thought it might be the last thing you ever knew, that he’d forgotten all else. That the world around him stopped, because the thought of really, truly seeing you die, overpowered all else.

Somehow, even when the blood is gone and his skin scrubbed raw, he doesn’t feel any less uneasy. All he can think of is you, the pool of blood that had surrounded you, the emotion he can’t quite place twisting in his gut even now, compelling him to stay by your side.

So Moze returns to the infirmary, keeping watch from the shadows.

It was a few days before you awoke, and were actually lucid.

Moze stood in the corner, leaned against the wall. He didn’t realize he drifted off until he was startled awake by the sounds of movement. His hand twitches toward his daggers instinctively before he realizes that it’s only you, sitting up in your bed.

You’re similarly startled when he emerges from the shadows, and your eyes land on him. You also reach for a weapon on instinct—though yours isn’t there—but you visibly relax when your mind catches up with you, and you realize it’s only him.

“You should still be resting,” he admonishes.

You raise a brow. “And you shouldn’t be in here. I doubt they’ve cleared me for visitors yet.”

Moze ignores your comment. “How do you feel?”

“Like I almost died,” you joke. “But really, I don’t remember much. It’s all kind of a blur. I’m not certain the things I do remember even happened.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and not for the first time Moze takes in the state of you. Bandages wrapped around your head. He knows from his memory of your injury that beneath the blanket, you also have them around your abdomen and chest. Moze had known even as he made every effort to save you that your survival was far from guaranteed.

The phantom feeling of your blood crawls back onto his skin. He crosses his arms, tries to fight the urge to scrub and claw at the skin, because he knows it’s not there.

You’re the first to break the silence. “The medics said you brought me here. I owe you my life, Moze. I know it couldn’t have been easy…”

He remembers your apology. I’m sorry. I’m bleeding on you.

“There was no need to leave you to die,” he responds.

You smile. “That doesn’t mean I can’t be grateful.”

Your smile suddenly twists into a frown, your hand reaching up to brush against the bandages around your head. “I…didn’t say anything strange to you, did I?”

If I have to die, it’ll be nice to die in your arms.

“…No.”

You sigh in relief. “Thank the Aeons! That would have been humiliating…”

He suspects that you remember more than you’re admitting to, but if you would rather believe it never happened, then he’s willing to pretend it didn’t.

Somehow, though, he knows the memory of you, clinging to him, saying you’d be fine with dying if he was the last thing you saw, won’t soon fade away. That your blood will continue to linger on his skin long after he cleaned it, that the fear of losing you is now realized and forever ingrained in him.

That he really wants to hold you close, and feel you clinging to him like that again.

He’s quick to bury those emotions, and try not to think about it any further. But he knows they’ll surface again, and unlike the blood and grime, these emotions will not be so easily washed away.

#honkai star rail #moze #moze x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #hsr #gonna be real with y’all Idk if this one’s any good lol #but I’m tired of keeping it in my drafts so. woe moze fic be upon ye

162 notes · View notes

badwolfrose34 · 22 days

Text

Girl in the Fireplace Rant (cont.)

There was at least some engagement on my last post about this so I decided I will in fact post a follow up. GitF was 100% a bad faith episode. Moffat wrote it because he is classist and misogynistic and hates Rose. Unfortunately, part of his purpose for the episode was to show that the Doctor will always prefer a “classy” aristocrat over Rose and he wanted to have her treated as nothing. So, all of us Rose fans have to come up with a headcanon that undermines the writer’s intentions.

I think the most common one is to believe the episode was the Doctor’s attempts to push Rose away because of her mortality and how that scares him.

That never worked for me because a major part of the Doctor’s character is his protectiveness. He would never push her away to the point of danger or abandonment. For me, I feel that fictional or not, the actions of the Doctor in that episode would be entirely unforgivable if they did happen. So my headcanon is that this episode was a nightmare Rose had.

If you are like me are also one of the fans for whom the pushing her away theory doesn’t work, read on for my explanation of why I don’t think GitF could be an actual event within canon. Moffat may be a BBC writer but it doesn’t give him a right to completely undermine the show, it doesn’t actually belong to anyone outside of financial concerns. If you’re content with believing he needed to push Rose away and that the episode did happen, you can ignore this.

Why the events GitF did not happen within canon (but could’ve happened as a nightmare)

1. Doctor Who canon is very loose as it is. With multiple writers across multiple mediums, things do contradict each other and us as fans get to decide for ourselves what fits with canon and what does not.

2. The Doctor has been clearly shown to be in love with Rose. He is protective of her to the point that if a decision will kill everyone else but give her even a slight chance of survival, he can’t actually make that decision. He almost did in Dalek, but after she didn’t get through the barricade the first time he was incapable of significantly reducing her safety for the good of everyone else. He snapped awake from a regeneration coma just because Rose said “help me”. He freaked out when Cassandra had her body and again in Tooth and Claw when she was in trouble. If you count Stone Rose that almost certainly took place before GitF and he once again, lost his mind over Rose being a statue.

I do understand seeing Sarah Jane age freaked him out. And I could’ve understood him distancing himself from Rose a bit in some way. But his instinct to protect her is so strong he’d never sacrifice her safety to push her away. Leaving her alone with clockwork for an extended period of time while he partied and invented drinks is impossible enough. Let alone the way he believed he’d have no way back to the ship when he went through the time window for the last time. Not only had he just promised she could spend the rest of her life with him, but her and Mickey would’ve likely died alone on that abandoned spaceship.

Simply, it’s just too out of character to happen within the rest of the Ninth and Tenth Doctors’ canon.

3. The horse. I have been a big horse person my entire life. Horses have extremely strong flight instincts. Even the most trusting and well trained horse in the world is never going to jump through reinforced glass. I do realize as Sci Fi fans we have to suspend disbelief for a lot of things. But we are never given an explanation as to why this horse would behave so dramatically differently from another horse. Every bizarre thing we accept in the DW universe is explained to some extent. There is a book where the Doctor tames a horse with psychic paper. But that horse is never asked to violate its instincts. That horse behaves as any other tame horse behaves. That is an example of acceptable DW suspension of belief. There is still a sci fi/alien technical explanation and I can absorb it. I cannot absorb a horse jumping through a firm glass window unless they were running from something even scarier. No matter how well trained a horse is, it’s not jumping through glass just because a humanoid asked them to. Nothing was chasing Arthur and his body language did not suggest any kind of fear to indicate he was running from something even scarier. All the droids were already in the other side of the window as well. It’s simply bizarre and impossible, even in a sci fi snow. Within this very show the Doctor states you can’t hypnotize someone beyond their survival instincts. I believe this applies to horses and a horse’s instincts is to avoid jumping through or into a reinforced barrier.

Next, we are given no explanation as to how this horse jumped through glass unscathed. Glass that was said to be so strong only a truck could break through. Horses are also extremely delicate and many have fatally injured themselves just playing in the paddock. Even for injuries not that extreme, every horse person knows that even small things result in giant vet bills.

Finally, it is once again grossly out of character for the Doctor to take a living animal and make them do something he previously calculated would required a truck.

4. Things are back to normal as if the episode never happened by the Rise of the Cybermen. If the Doctor had really developed feelings for another woman so strong that he would leave Rose for dead, then lost her, would he just be back to being the same old Doctor the very next episode? I doubt it. The Doctor is also a character known for holding on to guilt. Even if Reinette was mechanism to push Rose away, the way he abandoned her would’ve caused enough guilt he wouldn’t just be normal the very next episode. The show carries on as if Reinette never happened because Reinette never happened.

The only reference to that GitF is some clockwork droids in John Smith’s journal. Which could be explained by another encounter with the droids or by the Doctor looking at Rose’s mind to see the nightmare. Which would be an intimate enough moment to imprint on John Smith’s subconscious. The words “a girl in every fireplace” can once again refer to the Doctor seeing Rose’s nightmare or another off screen adventure entirely. There is no reference strong enough to confirm the actual events of GitF ever happened. The show functions exactly the same way without it. Because, it never happened.

5. The events of the show make perfect sense as a nightmare in Rose’s head. Take it from someone with a degree in psychology. Rose has abandonment wounds from Jimmy Stone. She also has abandonment wounds from her father dying when she was too young to understand it. School Reunion, the episode right before GitF triggers her abandonment wounds by making her see the Doctor has previously left companions and did not come back for them. It also makes her wonder if she is special to the Doctor. These doubts combined with her past trauma are a perfect recipe for her to have a bizarre nightmare where she gets abandoned in the most horrific way after the events of School Reunion.

I will leave you all with my fic where this was all a nightmare. Or you can write your own if you prefer. My point is that for those who feel the way I do about this episode, we do not have to accept the events as canon. We do not have to believe the Doctor has ever treated Rose this way except in her worst nightmares.

Update to address Deep Breath:

1. Doctor mentioned seeing clockwork droids before, but we know that the Doctor has many off screen adventures. He could’ve encountered the droids at any other point in his entire life besides GitF.

2. As for that episode stating the SS Madame De Pompadour existed, that still doesn’t confirm anything. There was a real life ship called the USS Queen of France. This was named for Marie Antoinette. Jackie dated a sailor once and Rose had a friend named Keisha whose brother was a sailor. This means Rose could’ve heard one of them discussing historical naval ships. This how she would imagine a ship named after Madame de Pompadour in the first place. She and the people who built the SS Madame de Pompadour and SS Marie Antoinette would’ve simply drawn inspiration from the same place. Also, there’s the fact that someone named a fictional ship Titan many years before Titanic ever existed.

Update 2: Rose was going to get an A level in French if she hadn’t run off with Jimmy. So she could’ve reasonably been familiar with some aspects of French history and able to imagine all of these things in a dream, even if it wasn’t a historically accurate dream, everyone knows weird things happen in dreams.

177 notes · View notes

clip-the-simp · 1 month

Text

Training Day

Ao3 Master list

Pairing: Logan Howlett // Wolverine x mutant!fem!reader

Word Count: 2,806

Cw: slight proofreading, language, violence, blood,

Summary: Professor X decided it’s time for you to hone your powers for more than just defensive field work. However things get a little out of hand when Logan is the one running the simulation.

A/N: Reader had the same powers as in the previous fic, A Logan Holiday. I’ll be keeping the readers powers and backstory the same unless someone sends in a request for other power variants or I state otherwise.

It frustrated you to no end that you had been forced out of your comfort zone. You were good at what you did. Bending light particles to form unbreakable shields was the safest use of your powers. It was useful for keeping both the team and bystanders out of harm's way.

Charles however saw the potential in your abilities. Not only could you bend light particles but also atoms on a subatomic level. It took more out of you to manipulate denser atoms which is why the training was necessary. But no matter how much you pushed yourself, the fear of causing an atomic explosion and whipping out the institute loomed over your head.

“Fight like you mean it!” Logan yelled before another blast from the cannon fired. The Danger room was simulated as an attack from a Sentinel and so far your ass was getting kicked. Charles had decided it was time for you to learn more offensive maneuvers instead of always being on the defensive.

The impact from the blast brought you to the ground where you quickly had to roll out of the way of falling debris. Your breathing was ragged as you stood, Logan looking down at you from the control room. His voice yet again came over the speakers.

“You gotta use your powers offensively bub.” There was a crackle as he cut the feed. You glared up at him through furrowed brows. Sensing a rock hurtling in your direction you effortlessly formed a shield which caused the boulder to break on impact. The pieces falling to the ground as they broke.

“This is stupid!” You yelled as you lowered the shield again. Logan continued to look down at you, his eyes never left yours as he pressed another button. Suddenly another door opened where two more Sentinels were revealed and immediately fired on you. Quickly you moved and ducked behind a fallen metal beam before you threw a bubble shield over yourself. Adrenaline pumped rapidly through your bloodstream at an alarming rate as you assessed the situation. Not even Scott could take down three of those robots by himself. It no longer felt like training, it was beginning to feel like a murder attempt.

“What do you think you're doing?!” You yelled once again to Logan. Not paying much attention, the Sentinels had made their way behind you to rip the beam away from you. With a petrified look plastered on your face you quickly dissolved the shield and began to run.

“I’m pushing you. If you're not going to use your powers willingly I’ll force them out of you.” Logan informed you over the loudspeaker. Panic started to build in your chest at the realization that the only way out was to completely destroy the Sentinels.

“Fuck you!” You managed to retort before your foot caught on a rock, causing you to trip and land face first into a concrete slab. Tears welled up in your eyes from the impact to your nose, the feeling of blood started to run from it. Not paying enough attention to your surroundings, a metal hand quickly gripped your body in a firm hold, the air forced out of your lungs.

The panic returned, the focus no longer on your bloody nose or the bruise blooming on your check. The instinct to survive kicked in with a flash. The air particles around you were no longer being used to form shields and were instead large spears that forced their way through the metal of each robot.

The hand of the one holding you captive was the first to receive retribution. A spear going through its wrist to release you from its bonds. Before quickly receiving another that pierced through the cranium and the chest, pinning the robot to the floor. You formed a disk to stand on as the Sentinel released you. Your eyes glowing slightly with the color of your powers.

The other two metal beasts soon received similar treatment as the first. One got a spear that penetrated through both thighs and finished off with another piercing through the center of the chest all the way up through the skull. As for the final one the finishing blow was a spear that went from the crown of the head and through its torso which staked it to the ground.

With all three Sentinels dead you lowered yourself back to the ground, firmly planting your feet as the simulation faded away. Leaving behind only yourself and the slain robots. The Training room doors opened behind you but you paid them no attention. Instead looking at the metal bodies that remained before you. Each one contorted in a way that made them seem almost angelic. The spears in their bodies still glowed as your shields often did. With a quick wave of your hand the spears vanished and the hunks of metal collapsed to the ground.

“Well that’s one way to do it.” Logan’s voice broke through your thoughts which brought you back to the fact he was the reason this happened. A short sword quickly formed in your hand as you swung around. The tip of the blade resting at his collar bone. Your breathing still heavy as you glared daggers into him. Your nose was slowly still bleeding and the swelling in your check was getting worse. Normally you would’ve focused on healing yourself by now but your anger had gotten the better of you.

“You could’ve killed me.” You said, pushing the blade harder against his skin. He never flinched, simply keeping his eyes locked on yours. His eyebrow rose as he took you in.

“But I didn’t. Next time-“ he began, but you quickly cut him off. Whipping around and nicking his skin with the blade as you moved it further up to rest under his chin. If looks could kill, Logan would be on the floor stone cold dead.

“There isn’t going to be a next time.” You informed him. There was a cough from the door which you instantly knew who from. You lowered the sword and looked over to the door where you found Charles approaching in his wheelchair.

“I think you’re looking at this the wrong way my dear.” He said calmly, trying to get your perspective to turn positive. That was fairly hard to do when all you could think about was your potential death.

“And how should I look at it?” You bit back, frustration starting to bubble into your bloodstream. “This time around I stayed in control. I knew my environment and knew what would happen if I let loose. Out there in the real world I’m not able to do that.” Your voice grew harsh but it was the only thing holding back the tears that wanted to form.

“In the field I’m not always able to kill the bad guy. So what happens if I do, huh? More Mutants get slaughtered because of my negligence? This is why I always stayed on the side lines.” The sword you once held dissipated into the art as your hands began to shake. You hated losing your composure and sought to gain it back. With a deep inhale you ran your hand over your face. The stinging from the bruise grounding you back in reality.

You knew what Charles was doing was for your benefit. The fact of the matter however was that you had fought for years to stay out of the line of fire. Your powers could be of great use of course, but the bad guys were always the ones looking to use them. Being at the institut was the only way you could insure your safety. So Charles deciding to go against what you had fought so hard to keep was almost insulting.

“Charles, I think she’s right. I pushed her too far. She made great progress today so we should just leave it at that.” Wolverine placed a hand on your shoulder as he spoke to the professor. He’s thumb lightly stroking over your costume. Looking at him you saw the knick from the sword had already healed over as Logan drew closer to you.

The Professor hummed in agreement, quickly realizing that perhaps he was too hard on you. “Very well. Perhaps I did go a bit far today. Please accept my apology as I was only trying to improve your abilities.”

“You’re forgiven.” The words fell from your mouth before you could register your thoughts. The pain in your cheek had become too much for you to think straight.

It hadn’t taken Charles long to notice your discomfort, quickly instructing Logan to take care of you and while Hank fixed up the training Sentinels. You walked with Logan to the infirmary in complete silence. Taking time to focus on your cheek in order to heal the bruise that had formed. Your nose had stopped bleeding at that point but the blood still remained caked to your face.

Once in the infirmary, you made your way over to the sink and grabbed a rag off the top of the pile. Being the school nurse and team medic, you knew where everything was in the room. As the water grew hot you took the cloth and held it to your face to rehydrate the dried blood.

“Sorry for being so rough on you. It was at the professor's request.” Logan leaned his back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. Still holding the rag to your face, you side eyed him. Keeping quiet in favor of reserving your dignity.

Blood now soaked into the rag you finished cleaning up before finally drying your face. Logan never stopped watching you as you worked, cloth finding its way to the hazard bin while you sanitized the rest of the area. You were trying your best to ignore him since the incident from mere moments ago. The thought of him potentially killing you still on your mind.

“Can you quit staring?” You growled before turning to exit the room. With everything sterilized you were able to leave to rest up in your room. Logan continued to follow you through the halls and back up to the main floor. The further he followed you the more aggravated you got. You kept your expressions calm however as you passed students in the hallways.

Many of them greeted you with a smile which was quickly returned. A few older students waved at Logan who loomed over you but most were intimidated by him so didn’t dare look in your direction. It didn’t take long before you were back at your room, Logan still hot on your heels.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Logan.” You finally snapped at him, whipping around to plant your finger into his chest. His expression was unreadable, void of any detectable emotion. Not even his signature scowl was to be seen.

“I know that.” He said with just as little emotion that was on his face. It almost made you feel bad for being so mean spirited towards him.

Almost.

“Then you can quit following me. Charles may have asked you to watch me, but I’m telling you I’m fine on my own.” You poked his chest again before crossing your arms and straightening your back. His gaze was already fixed on you as you glared up at him.

“I’m not here because of him.” He informed you while crossing his own arms. His eyes never left yours as he stared down at you.

“Then why? Feeling bad for nearly killing me.” Quirking an eyebrow you proceeded to grill him. You were simply trying to get under his skin. However your worlds twisted the knife you didn’t know was already planted in him. His brows furrowed slightly but his eyes held an underlying emotion you couldn’t pick out just yet.

“Yes.” He simply replied. It caught you completely off guard. Your stance softened before you averted your gaze to the ground. That wasn’t what you were expecting so a response was lost to you. Guilt twisting your stomach as you tried to find a way to resolve the situation. With a sigh you lowered your arms and reached for the door handle to your room.

“Want to watch a movie with me? I wouldn’t mind your company.” You offered before twisting the knob and letting the door swing open. Logan relaxed a little at your offer, a soft smile adorning his face.

“Sure. Just try to avoid a musical.” He said, you smiled up at him before spinning on your heels to enter your room. He followed close behind as you gave a half hearted pout at his disdain for musicals.

“Oh you’re no fun.” You said before walking over to the night stand to flick on the lamp. Logan proceeded to shut the door behind him as you walked around the room to turn on a few more light sources.

“Why not use the overhead light?” He asked from his spot at the door. A laugh left you as you turned to him, now having made your way to the TV stand.

“I like this atmosphere better. Got a problem with that?” Picking up the remotes you turned on the DVD player along with the TV before setting the remotes back on the coffee table in front of the loveseat.

“Not at all. Seems far cozier.” Logan admitted as he moved over to where you stood. Leaning down you opened the entertainment center to reveal all the movies you owned. The collection was extensive due to your many years of living and broad taste in films.

“I need to change out of this suit. Pick a movie while I change.” You instructed before moving over to your dresser on the opposite side of the room. It was placed beside the bathroom door which you were lucky to have. Being as you were a permanent resident of the school your room had its perks.

“Yes Ma’am.” Logan said with a bet of sarcasm as he knelt down to examine the cases that laid before him. He was even a bet taken aback by the stockpile you had.

“Do you want a change of clothes? I might have some oversized sweatpants to fit you.” You made the offer as you rummaged through your clothes. Logan was in his usual jeans and white wife beater combo but figured it polite to ask if he wanted to change too.

“I’m alright, bub. Go change while I find a movie.” He waved a hand over the couch as his focus stayed on the film titles. You nodded to yourself while grabbing a pair of comfortable sweatpants and a blue tee, quickly walking into the bathroom. It didn’t take long for you to change but you did take a minute to look over yourself. Ensuring that there weren’t any more major bruises or cuts left over from training.

There weren’t any that were of great concern so you walked back into your living space to rejoin Logan. He was lounging on the love seat with an arm draped over the back of the couch. His feet were propped up on the table which you would have to get on him for later, but what caught your attention the most was the movie he chose.

“Hacksaw Ridge, really?” You asked with a skeptical tone of voice. Of all the movies he could’ve chosen you hadn’t expected it to be that one. Sure you know he preferred historical based media but it still came as a shock. Especially since you had many other, and bloodier, historical films.

“Yeah. It was in your collection.” He stated the obvious as you began to walk over to him. You scoffed at his remark.

“Well if I start crying you’re not allowed to judge me.” A chuckle came from Logan for your remark as you marched forward. Quickly grabbing a throw blanket off your bed before curling up on the couch next to Logan. You avoided leaning into him but when he grabbed your shoulder and tugged you into his side there was no protesting.

His smell flooded your senses as you laid there. The bitter smell of his cigars and lingering scent of pine always brought comfort. As much as you wanted to hold a grudge against him for the training, you couldn’t.

“I won’t judge you.” Logan paused for a moment before pressing play on the movie. “At least not too much.” He added while he looked down at you, your eyebrows knitted together as you looked back at him. The two of you laughed lightly before quieting down for the film. Your head rested on his shoulder as it began. It didn’t take long before your eyes began to drift shut and you eased off to sleep.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine #x reader #x reader fanfiction #x female reader #x fem!reader #fanfic #fan fiction #female writers #writers on tumblr #writing

128 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 1 year

Note

Dick grayson x male reader (preferably YJ verse)

Reader is Clark's bio son and their both hopelessly in love but reader is scared of dicks dating history and how close he's with all his exes and he doesn't want to get burned in the process

Dick Grayson x kryptonian male reader

Headcanons

Featuring some of my kryptonian headcanons.

You and Dick would be close even before the young justice team was made, since Bruce and Clark worked side by side so much as you were growing up. That results in you two knowing each other pretty well.

You would both be crushing on one another, but neither of you would confess or think the other feels the same way. Dick would the one to go off and date other people whilst you just stayed single and nursed what you thought was your one-sided crush.

Clark would have realized very early on how you were feeling for Dick, and he would tease you good naturedly about how you keep purring when your around him, saying its good he cant hear those frequencies or dick would have known immediately too.

You bring kryptonian makes you one of the team’s power houses, since you pack a major punch and other very strong powers. This results in you also looking out for a lot of the other team members just in case.

You’ve taken many hits for Dick over the years, since you on instinct keep a closer eye on him than everyone else. It’s not on purpose, you just do.

When Conner shows up, you don’t turn him away like others and treat him like a fellow kryptonian even if your dad is having some issues with being cloned. You don’t blame Conner for being created, and you just want to help out.

This leads to you and Conner getting close, and you teaching him about the weird quirks that come with being part Kryptonian. He almost exposes you when he asks why you purr so much around Dick, but you quickly shut him up.

Pretty much everyone can tell Dick is just as head over heels for you in return, it’s probably why some of his past relationships ended. I could imagine his partners realizing he was pining hard for you, which lead to a breakup for the most part.

Dick would think you don’t want a relationship in general since you’ve never been in a relationship with anyone, but everyone knows its because you pine after him too.

You two circling eachother like a pair of peacocks has been the cause of many tired conversations between your dads or your teammates. Bruce and Clark have known for years that you two like each other, but they also don’t want to push either of you to confess if you arent ready.

Your teammates have bets on how long its gonna take, Roy is the winner right now, since the bet was made years ago and he bet it would take you guys years, whilst the others said months or a year max.

You guys “hang out” all the time, but its very much just dates without you guys admitting it is. Like going out to eat together, going to the movies, or you flying around with him in your arms just for fun.

You guys end up kissing when you’ve been hit with a pretty strong dose of kryptonite, and you were loopy and weak. You weren’t sure you would make it out, so you kiss him.

Of course, you survive, and try to ignore that anything actually happened since you still think he doesn’t like you in return, and you fear you might have ruined your friendship.

It doesn’t help that all his exes are so attractive and skilled that it makes you insecure. Dick isn’t doing well with you avoiding him, as you go as far as using your super hearing to avoid him.

It ends up being Wally or Conner who explains to Dick that you feel insecure and like you won’t be able to meet his standards, which Dick doesn’t understand because he thinks your so far out of his league.

He would want to talk to you, but again, you’re avoiding him. Dick ends up getting the help from teammates and probably even Clark as you can’t outfly your dad like you can some of the others.

Finally, you two get to talk it all through, tears or shed, both sad tears and happy tears. You both feel so stupid cuz you’ve liked each other for years, but neither of you realized or confessed.

It takes a while after you start dating for you not to feel insecure or like you can’t meet some invisible standard, but Dick being so insanely smitten as he is helps quite a lot.

Your teammates have definitely joked that Dick would kiss the very ground you walk on if you asked, not that you wouldn’t do the same though.

You two are so cute together its almost sickening honestly. Always near eachother, holding hands, cuddling, kissing. The amount of flirting you do over comms now that you are together is unbelievable.

You’re very happy, though the insecurity does pop up at times. Your families and friends are happy you two finally confessed too. And Roy won the bet and became a richer man.

1K notes · View notes

animeyanderelover · 29 days

Text

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, stalking, overprotective behavior, isolation, mentions of abusive past, child eperimentation, easily manipulated reader, the adult trio is highly toxic as father figures (Illumi is the worst)

Tags: @jamayah @chxxz @leveyani @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59

Reader is like Eri from Bnha

Gon Freecss

🎣Gon is a simple individual with the determination and the stubbornness to match it. He's probably not the one who you can expect to have deep conversations with whenever your past catches up with you in your dreams or when fear seizes your heart as something within your proximity brings back unpleasant memories of a life that you have escaped from. However, Gon is going to get you outside a lot as soon as he notices that even the simplest animals or the most ordinary animals are a new experience for you as you spent years stuck in a laboratory. As someone who has spent his entire youth outside in nature it is only natural in Gon's mind that he shows you what you haven't seen yet as the thought of never getting to know all the adventures and creatures in the rivers and the forests is something he can't even fathom. Killua may argue that it is reckless of him to bring you with him since you have zero survival instinct, can't even distinguish a harmless butterfly from a venomous snake but if it comes down to sheer experience and awareness no one is beating Gon as he is essentially one with nature. He'll let you see everything you haven't whilst making sure that nothing harms you.

🎣It is actually quite dangerous for you to talk about your abusive past too detailed with him because it triggers a primal wrath within him to the point where a bit of that darkness may even seep out of him and unsettle and frighten you immensely even if you won't run away. That is why Killua has advised you to only be very shallow when answering his questions as Gon is still a very curious person to the point where he may even come over as quite insensitive and ignorant if your meek replies don't satisfy his curiosity. He's always pushing it slightly, mainly because he is convinced that you shouldn't keep secrets from him since he has essentially become your bigger brother and is going to protect you from everyone and everything. Explaining your Nen ability to him requires you to talk in simpler terms as otherwise he wouldn't be able to wrap his head around it but even after he has roughly grasped what you can do he is still not the least bit afraid. It's an amazing and useful ability and coupled with your sweetness and innocence he is genuinely not able to see just what you would do if you were to lose control and since he relies usually on his physical abilities he won't be the biggest help in training you.

Killua Zoldyck

🪀Killua is by comparison everything that Gon isn't and that is a good thing since it means that they balance each other out. There is obviously also a white flurry of anger within him but as a trained assassin he knows much better how to suppress his murderous intent than Gon who is more open with his emotions. So even if he secretly plans how to gruesomely rip someone's heart out of their chest nothing of that sort will be revealed on his face. You've told him in detail what has been done to you in the past so he knows that the last thing that would help you to feel safe around him would be for him to expose his own dark side to you. He's partially able to sympathise with your backstory as he went through tough training that everyone else would see as nothing short of child torture to get to the point where he is today but he is much tougher than you are which makes him very protective of you. He doesn't want you to be sheltered forever, he is familiar with the feeling of being imprisoned, but at the same time he knows how naive you are to the world around you and thinks that Gon's reckless adventures with you are too big of a jump from the life you were familiar with beforehand.

🪀If Gon is the extroverted and nature-loving older brother than Killua is the more introverted and chill counterpart of him. He familiarises you with electronics and basically watches all of the movies and TV shows with you that you have never been able to watch before. From the classics to what is currently very beloved, both of you spend hours in front of the TV which causes Gon to complain. He buys you tons of sweets when you reveal that you don't even remember what chocolate tastes like since it has been years since you had it and then he basically creates a tierlist for sweets with you so that he knows in the future what you love and what he should avoid to buy for you. When he takes you with him in cities he sees it through that you never stray away from him more than his arm's length, his eyes always scanning and analysing your surroundings as if he fears that someone will wait for you in a corner to take you back to the same medical room you were abused in for your entire childhood. Killua would be much more suited to help you with your quirk as well as he doesn't think as simply as Gon does and for that would be able to understand the principles and limitations better.

Hisoka Morow

🃏Whilst your abilities are unique it is not the kind of strength that Hisoka desires yet he still sees the potential that your powers could have to benefit him nevertheless. Initially his reasons for saving you from that medical room are nothing short of shallow and horrific. Your ability to rewind the bodies of a living being to a previous state bring a couple of advantages with it. You could restore his body if he were to be severely wounded in a fight, could restore the body of opponents he longs to fight and force them to continue fighting until he is satisfied and even restore their own abilities like Chrollo's. It is for that selfish reason that he takes you with him initially but even if he absolutely creeps you out at times you have just kind of resigned yourself to your fate and for that silently accept that you will be used for your abilities once more. The only advantage that comes with it is that you see the world outside of that facility for the first time and your sheer astonishment with the simplest things around you kind of amuses Hisoka to the point where he kind of makes a challenge out of it to see what ordinary things won't surprise you, your amazement giving him a very good idea what you had to go through.

🃏Your life is a strange mix of violence and newfound adventures, a unique mixture that you only really get because Hisoka is Hisoka. He starts growing fond of you over time in his own way though that doesn't mean that you will receive a normal childhood from that day on. He spoils you with sweets and toys and tags along with your childish antics to the point where he even lets you do his hair and makeup but you will still be there to fix him up when he got too excited whilst fighting a strong opponent or use your powers to heal them simply because Hisoka hasn't gotten enough of it yet. Still, he does get more cautious with how much he exposes you to the outside world as he knows that he sure as hell isn't the only one who has a keen interest in your special abilities. He knows that he could never provide you with a normal childhood like other children your age but that doesn't mean that he would just simply give you away. He isn't as selfless as you are and he will never be. No, he'll continue to have you tag along with him for all of your life. He isn't a sane father figure but he sure as hell is still nowhere near as bad as the people who had you in their hands before he entered your life.

Illumi Zoldyck

🤎The mission in itself is very easy. Infiltrate, kill and retrieve. Three simple steps that Illumi has repeated hundreds of times before during other missions only that during this mission he stumbles upon you. Tiny, fragile and trembling like a leaf in the wind as he enters your room, his needles in his hands. He didn't know of your existence, is merely here to steal some important data and if it wouldn't have been for your abilities he probably would have killed you without consideration. Yet whilst going through the files catered to you and realising just how much potential and use your powers would have for him and his family he simply takes you with him. After all you were not part of the mission nor are you someone he was paid to terminate or deliver which means he is free to take you. One can only imagine the surprise of everyone in the Zoldyck manor when he returns with you in his arms before bluntly stating that from now on you will live here. As the one who found you and made the decision to keep you he sees it as his job to see it through that you behave and learn how to use your powers so that his family benefits from it. Honestly, he isn't much different from the people who were previously using you.

🤎It is only after he has slightly mellowed out that he starts growing softer. You are quite obedient, nothing like his younger siblings as you simply follow along as obeying is the only thing you were supposed to do and for that it is the only thing you really know how to do. What is a deeply rooted issue in everyone else's eyes though is only good behavior in Illumi's eyes and he actively praises you for it. In return you get a big room stuffed with toys and plushies although you essentially become the second Alluka in the household, sheltered and isolated. Whilst Alluka has Killua though you end up with Illumi who is the only one you get to see most days. He feels like he has a special right over you in comparison to everyone else solely because it was he who found you and brought you back and he makes sure to drill that into your head as often as possible. He is your sole provider. He is your savior. You should only listen to him and turn to him when you have a problem. He hasn't used his needles on you yet as you have been so far a very obedient child but if some of his sibling's bad influence would rub off on you he will not hesitate to do the same thing to you he did to Killua.

Chrollo Lucilfer

📖You are freed for only one purpose and that is to rewind Chrollo's body before the Chain user placed the condition on him that would kill him the moment he used his abilities. You only remember chaos, violence and blood when the other members of the Phantom Troupe rescued you after they found out about your unique abilities and it is Chrollo who manipulates you into staying with them after he saw with his own eyes what you are capable off. He wants your abilities. You are no member of his troupe and for that he has attachment to you, could easily end your life right then and there as you aren't the first child he would have murdered yet he can't just steal your abilities from you. The problem is that you don't even know how your powers work, something he needs to know from you in order to steal your Nen from you and as he is unwilling to lose such a treasure he decides to simply take you in for now and assist you in figuring out your abilities until he has helped you to figure them out so that he can then steal them from you. You probably sense that none of his smiles or words are sincere as he offers to take you in but you also know that you have nowhere to escape, merely accept your new fate.

📖Your past is probably the first thing that kind of leads you to bond with him and the rest of the troupe. Chrollo has always been someone who loved studying humans and since he has a special interest in you he wants to know everything about you. Not only from files but from your own lips. Everyone in the troupe has had a rough life so you earn the first tiny spark of sympathy from him and other members when you end up confessing that you have no parents and that the only thing that was worth keeping you alive for was your Nen ability. Honestly, it is likely that you may end up getting the whole troupe platonically obsessed with you. Their childhood has been ruined but yours isn't shattered completely yet so they end up working hard to provide you with everything that you have never experienced or gotten before. Chrollo in particular grows heavily obsessed and keeps you almost constantly by his side, teaches you how to write and read and even reads you bedtime stories. The whole troupe has come silently to the agreement that even if he takes your abilities you will be kept. If Chrollo is the head of the spiders and they are the legs than you are the heart and the soul of them.

#yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh #platonic yandere #yandere gon #yandere gon freecss #yandere killua #yandere killua zoldyck #yandere hisoka #yandere hisoka morow #yandere illumi #yandere illumi zoldyck #yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer

124 notes · View notes

cassiopeiasdaughter · 1 year

Text

lighthouse

Theodore Nott x fem!reader

A/N: guess who's back, back again...this was requested by @talesofadragon (🫶) for my celebration and I finally finished writing it 🤶🏻

warnings: soft smut, for the girlies that are in their feels...also, poorly proofread Theodore Masterlist & celebrate my academic hardships

“We will see eachother in just a few weeks.”, you whispered as you lost yourself in his arms.

His only response was to hold you tighter, bury his face in your hair, needing to memorize your scent and how you felt.

“You’re being dramatic.”, you complained- but smiled when he kissed your head and let out a whine.

He was in fact, being dramatic. You both had spent at least fifteen minutes like this; you in his arms and him refusing to let you go. You had to leave school and go back to your families, for Easter Holiday, and even though you wished you could spend that time together, well, it just couldn’t happen. Not until, school was over and neither of you lived at your parents house.

“I will miss the train.”, you whined and lightly pushed him off, “I’ll see you in two weeks.”, you smiled and kissed his cheek.

“I love you.”, he said and played with your hand, not wanting to let go, just yet.

“I love you too.”, you said and squeezed his hand, before running away to board the train.

His Easter break, was terrible as expected, and the only thing that kept him from setting his whole house on fire, were the letters you wrote him and the thought of seeing you again. Which came true, thankfully faster than he had expected.

You arrived at Hogwarts a day earlier than him and the first place he ran to as soon as he stepped into the castle was your room.

You didn’t hear him as he walked into your dorm; you were dancing to music and fixing up your room when you felt arms wrapping around your waist.

You knew who it was, his touch was a second home by now, he was carved in you. You were sure that if you were to search deep inside your soul, his name would be written next to yours, his whole being belonged to you, as yours belonged to him.

“Hi.”, he whispered in your hair

“Hey.”, you smiled and turned back to look at him; his eyes looked tired and his smile was weak; he looked exhausted- only his grip remained strong around you. As if you were the anchor he desperately needed in order to survive.

You played with his hair and grinned at how his eyes closed, how he leaned in your touch. You loved how easy it was for you to creep inside him, you knew what buttons to push for him to be like this; vulnerable, open, real.

“I missed you.”, you whispered and he kissed you I missed you too his lips said- as they danced with yours. Slowly and sweet at first, but soon they grew hungry for more.

He swallowed the sounds you let out, as he tasted you; his tongue moved inside your mouth- a movement entirely familiar, that never stopped thrilling you. The butterflies inside you, always came alive when you were with him, anticipation and excitement filled you- always.

It was a play you both knew how to perform, very well, instinctively almost. You knew the moves and lines by heart; you had memorized his as well. But the play never ceased to amaze you.

“I missed you.”, he repeated against your lips, and his hands moved down your back, drawing you to him while yours gripped his arms, strongly, in response.

His movements were brimming with impatience and yours as well; you leaned up and kissed his neck softly savoring his sounds- and mostly, the way your name would fall from his lips.

His eyes were shut tightly and he let out a groan when he felt your hand creeping inside his shirt, your nails lightly scraping his abdomen.

He pushed your hands off and guided you to your bed, both of you giggling as you landed on the mattress. You hair was spread around your head- like a halo- and your eyes looked up at him, vulnerable and open. It drove his heart to pound inside his chest, an earthquake of emotions tearing down his worries and doubts, the only thing remaining still- the only one resilient enough to defy the destruction is you; you and the love he has for you.

Amongst the ruins of his life- the uncertainty and fear- you shine like a beacon in the night. Strong and warm; always there for him- as he is for you.

“Come here.”, you whisper and he obeys, kneeling between your legs- with his face resting on your thigh and his hands planted on your hips. He feels your fingers in his hair, brushing through the curls playing with them, as you always do, and it calms him, grounds him.

With slow moves, he removes your tights and shoes as you unzip your skirt; leaving you in only your underwear from the waist down. He gives you a knowing look, playful and dark eyes looking up at yours before he plants kisses on your legs, inside your thighs, on your belly- killing you softly and then bringing you back to life.

You love it when he is rough and demanding, leaving marks all over your body; and you cherish it when he is romantic and he whispers sweet words in your ears. But you also love this, soft and slow, showing you how he feels through his touch.

Your eyes close when you feel his mouth on you- through your underwear, and you tug at his hair demandingly- impatiently.

Never one to defy you, he removes the last barrier between you two, guiding your hips off the mattress, leaving you bare and open to him.

He has to take a deep breath, as he takes in your form; your chest heaving up and down, your cheeks flushed and your hair messy and falling in front of your eyes, your lids half open staring at him.

That’s when he dives in. His kisses are wet and slow, he takes his time, tasting, licking and kissing you everywhere. From sucking lightly at the bud of nerves to thrusting his tongue inside you- leaving you moaning and breathless.

“I missed this.”, he says breathless as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your throbbing clit, and can only sigh in response just as your grip on his hair tightens.

“You were all I could think about.”, he continues and teases your entrance with a finger, “All I can think about.”

His other hand squeezes your thigh, once-twice urging you to look at him, and you do so, raising your self weakly on your elbows.

“I can’t think about anything else.”, he says shaking his head and then pushes two fingers inside, stretching you beautifully.

Your head landed on the mattress almost violently at that and you released a string of curses as your hips moved along his fingers, urging them deeper.

His body moved on top of yours, his hair hiding his eyes as they looked down at you, in awe. And your hands stayed wrapped around his forearm, holding on for dear life as your hips moved more intensely.

“You are so beautiful like this.”, he exclaimed and you whined- clenched around his fingers.

“Please- just..”, you sighed and he curled his fingers upwards driving you to your climax.

You twitched and trembled and dragged Theo closer, needing to feel his body on yours, his scent around you.

He rested his elbows by your head, caging you, and then kissed you deeply, just like he had done a few minutes earlier. His tongue forcing your lips open, tasting yourself on him as he deepened the kiss.

“Off.”, you breathed against his mouth, causing him to smirk, while you feverishly tried to remove his clothes.

He laughed and sat on his knees, dragging his shirt over his head, and discarding it on the floor. He took off his shoes and pants and hovered over you once again, planting kisses on your forehead and nose.

“So, you missed me?”, you asked playfully and slipped your hands down his body, inside his boxers

“Merlin, yes.”, he closed his eyes in defeat, “After graduation I will follow you anywhere you go.”

“Mhmm.”, you mouthed and wrapped your hand around him- circling the tip with your thumb, “And if you grow tired of me?”

“Never.”, he forced out with a groan and kissed your neck, before laying his head there- breathing heavily against your skin.

Your legs opened up, wrapped around his body, and you guided him inside of you. He understood and lifted his face from your skin, and stared into your eyes as he pushed inside of you, savoring the tight grip of your body- the feel of your walls almost swallowing him.

He moaned your name and started moving slowly, in and out. The sweet sounds escaped that from your lips and the wet noises your bodies made overflowing the room, accompanying the music still playing. You laced your fingers together and he placed them by your head, supporting his body.

You had missed his shape against yours, the feel of him inside you, being so full of him. You had missed him, terribly much.

“Don’t stop.”, you repeated over and over again as his movements grew faster- harder; as he lost control.

One of his hands, snaked down your body, between the two of you, rubbing at the collection of nerves.

“Please-”, he whispered, “-wanna feel you.”, he begged and rubbed harder.

You felt your legs shake, before your whole body trembled as you came for the second time that night. You whined, as he finished; thrusting impossibly deep inside of you.

Your nails were drawing crescent moons on his hand while your other hand scratched down his back. He landed on top of you then, needing a few seconds to collect himself and catch his breath.

A smile formed on your lips when you felt him kiss your neck, all the way down to your still clothed chest, and like the needy person he was, he guided your hands to his hair, silently asking you to play with it, like you always did.

Both of you remained quiet for a while, enjoying the aftermath of what you’d done, as if you’d both finally returned to your ‘normality’, to what you were made for.

“Stay with me”, you heard him mouth in your skin, as he started undoing the buttons of your shirt “After school is done, after today is over, after now.”, he looked up at you “Stay with me.”

You pulled him close for a kiss, “That’s the plan.”

reminder: I will be answering your requests when I find the time & inspiration (bear with me, exam season is hard). Also, feedback & criticism are appreciated and needed.

Theo taglist: @avalynlestrange @spacecadet16 @lucywritess @aleviia @marina468 @annaisabookworm @liarajoah @notasadgirlipromise @pariseffer @unlikelysadgirl @ktz-bb

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theo nott #theo nott imagine #theo nott x reader #harry potter fanfiction #theodore nott smut #theo smut

821 notes · View notes

withthewindinherfootsteps · 4 days

Text

For all the very self-sacrificial Wei Wuxian takes out there, I think they may actually fit Lan Wangji more?

…Before you disagree, there’s a big caveat to this – I don’t think these takes fit either of them well. But it’s interesting to compare their default responses to situations. Both want to help others – but whereas Wei Wuxian’s first instinct is to redirect (redirecting attacks to other targets, redirecting enemies’ attention to distract them, etc), Lan Wangji is much more direct in his protection*. And generally, that’s going to lead to putting yourself in harm’s way more often.

My favourite scene to demonstrate this is when Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji (alongside Jin Zixuan) are protecting Mianmian in the Xuanwu cave. Wei Wuxian does this by redirecting Wen Chao’s attention to him, provoking him and causing him to step out of Wen Zhuliu’s range of protection. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji stands in front of her, blocking her from danger directly… despite being at a disadvantage and already injured!

Wen Chao was enraged, shouting, “How dare you! Kill them!” A few of the Wen Sect’s disciples unsheathed their swords, rushing toward Lan WangJi and Jin ZiXuan (...) the two boys were at a loss in terms of both weaponry and sheer numbers. Even more, after the past days of being constantly on the move, they were in quite a bad state, not to mention that Lan WangJi had been injured. They definitely wouldn’t be able to last long. Chapter 52, EXR translation

This is a scenario with high stakes (Mianmian’s life), but also with multiple solutions, meaning that their choices aren’t muddied by there only being one option. Yet we still see Lan Wangji directly defend – despite the fact that, if Wei Wuxian hadn’t intervened, he almost certainly would have died! And that’s true of another moment in the Xuanwu cave I never hear anyone talk about:

Before Wei WuXian could think of what to do next, his body tilted as somebody shoved him to the side. Lan WangJi had pushed him out of the way. With this opportunity, the jaws of the beast had closed, biting down on his leg. Wei WuXian’s right leg hurt from simply watching the scene. Lan WangJi’s face was still expressionless. He had only frowned slightly. Afterward, he was immediately dragged away! (...) Lan WangJi didn’t expect that [Wei Wuxian] could catch up even under such circumstances. He was utterly shocked. Chapter 53, EXR translation

Admittedly, this is a scenario with more limited options, which is why I mentioned Mianmian first. But his reaction stays consistent – directly blocking somebody from a threat with his own body. And again, he didn’t think Wei Wuxian could do anything to rescue him! He does not expect to survive, and we just… don’t talk about this???

(And note that when Wei Wuxian rescues him, he actually puts himself in less danger! Again, this is mainly due to the limited solutions – you can’t rescue someone who’s already bitten down on by blocking the mouth from biting down on them – but he’s still in a position where he does have the option to get out of the situation if he chooses (he’s not between the teeth! His hands are opening the teeth from the outside, his feet are on its shell, he can jump into the water at any time and does after Lan Wangji is safe. There is danger of the Xuanwu choosing to attack him, but his position on its own doesn’t put him in mortal peril, which is not the case for Lan Wangji here). So though it doesn’t give us that much insight into how he prefers to deal with situations, the dynamic is still interesting to consider with regard to how fanon!WWX is often treated.)

Now, maybe these examples are unfair. Maybe Lan Wangji here was very tired (he was), stressed (he was) and not thinking straight, and so he just didn’t think of other options that he would’ve chosen in normal circumstances. If that’s the case, it still supports my point – no matter his eventual course of action, his first thought/instinct is still to obstruct directly – but this isn’t just a pattern limited to this arc, and to such high-stakes situations. For example, look at his reaction when the Wens order the Lans to burn the Cloud Recesses (and though I’d be very surprised if Lan Wangji wasn’t stressed here too, he’s at least less tired).

Wei WuXian, “Is Lan Zhan’s leg related to this?” The disciple, “Of course. The first place that Wen Xu ordered them to burn down was the Library Pavilion. He declared that he’ll teach anyone who wasn’t willing to do it a lesson. Lan WangJi refused. He was attacked by Wen Xu’s people and they broke one of his legs.” - Chapter 52, EXR translation

I say this is low-stakes because actions won’t actually have that much of an impact – though there is danger, the Cloud Recesses are going to be burned down no matter what, so it’s not something you’re risking by not acting to prevent it. Yet Lan Wangji still chooses to directly oppose, to directly protect the pavilion as much as he can (even if that’s very little, and even if I do think the main factor here was actually his refusal to go against his principles and burn down the Cloud Recesses, not him trying to protect them. But that still leads to the same course of action: to act very directly). And again, that results in direct bodily harm to him**!

But even in situations where he’s not stressed or under any pressure, we still see that direct protection is his default. Just look at the way he acts towards Wei Wuxian in the present day. One of his very first actions towards him (and pretty much the very first after finding out his identity!) is to block Jiang Cheng from hurting ‘Mo Xuanyu’ with Zidian – to quote EXR, “[Wei Wuxian] hadn’t been hit by the whip yet only because Lan WangJi acted as a barricade in front of him.” – and after that we often see him protecting Wei Wuxian from dogs, we see him let Wei Wuxian stand behind him when Jiang Cheng is angry at the Golden Core reveal (Chapter 102), we even see him protecting Wei Wuxian from things they both know he can face (Su She):

On the other hand, Lan WangJi gripped Bichen in one hand as he grabbed Wei WuXian’s waist with his other, pushing Wei WuXian behind him for better protection. In reality, Wei WuXian had no need for his protection, but he still leaned against his body with both comfort and compliance. Chapter 104, EXR

None of this leads to any harm of either of them, but it still holds true to the pattern of Lan Wangji protecting by physically putting himself between what he’s defending, and harm’s way. This response of his is extremely consistent! And it’s not just towards Wei Wuxian either – there’s a tiny moment in the Lotus Seed Pod extra which you could argue fits this pattern, where Lan Wangji chooses to physically hold the heavy roof of an abandoned shed to block the rain from reaching an injured man and a few other people, rather than trying something like using wood from the shed (including the four pieces of unattached wood propping the shed up) to build a temporary shelter for them until help arrives. The circumstances and therefore actions are slightly different, but the process leading to them is still the same – Lan Wangji still acts in the most direct way he can to protect the people from the rain, which does involve exerting himself even in a situation where there would probably be other ways to solve it (even if his Lan arm strength means he can hold the roof up without a problem). It’s not a deliberate choice to do whatever puts him in harm’s way the most, but directly using himself to protect people, whatever form that takes, is his main and default course of action.

The final thing I want to mention is that even Lan Wangji’s ‘big reveal’ moment – him being the one to take Wei Wuxian away from Nightless City, fighting 33 elders to protect him – calls back to this trait as well (MDZS is so well put together)! Once more, Lan Wangji is directly protecting, risking and suffering serious bodily harm as a result. Recovering took a few years!

…And yet. I never see anybody thinking Lan Wangji is self-sacrificial. I’d argue they’re right – but why? Why, when he puts himself in harm’s way more than Wei Wuxian does?

Maybe it’s because of something like this: ‘but he does this because he loves Wei Wuxian and doesn’t want to see him hurt, and protecting others is just part of his morals! It doesn’t point to any issue within him, he does have a stable sense of self and self-worth – at least there isn’t anything pointing to the opposite’.

Which, again, I’d argue is right.

But… does that really not apply to Wei Wuxian, too?

---

*And there are moments where they don’t act like this, especially for Wei Wuxian, but that’s generally in situations where there aren’t any other options which still lead to them accomplishing their goals. Protecting the Wens by… redirecting the Jianghu’s hatred towards other people? How would he do that? How would that help anything??

**It’s quite interesting to think of how Wei Wuxian would act in these situations, actually – both being forced to burn down the Cloud Recesses (or Lotus Pier, in this case), and in preventing (in this case) Lan Wangji from being eaten by a Xuanwu rushing towards him. The first, I’m not actually sure what exactly he would do (especially as nothing he can do will stop the burning) – I’m not sure he’d just go along with it, but I don’t see him just refusing to despite that not doing anything, either (especially since if he’s unharmed, he’ll be more able to protect his shidi and shimei if they’re in danger, since he’s a much more skilled cultivator/fighter than they are), at least not in the same way. Hearing people’s thoughts on that would be really interesting, actually!

As for the second – if there’s really no time to change anything about the head or its direction, he would probably do the same (with the only other option being letting Lan Wangji die). But if there was the smallest room to change something, I could definitely see him activating another fire talisman (to distract the Xuanwu and redirect its attention to the pillar of flame instead of Lan Wangji, even if just for a moment). And even if self sacrifice really needed to be an option, with no way out beside it, I think Wei Wuxian’s would take the form of redirecting the Xuanwu’s head towards him rather than directly blocking it from reaching Lan Wangji. When he does put himself in danger in canon, this is usually how he does it (see: him redirecting the corpses towards himself during the Second Siege, while Lan Wangji is protecting him and blocking them from reaching him… another nice example of their situational response!).

I do plan on writing a separate meta about Wei Wuxian’s tendency to redirect, though, so some of these points may be reiterated there.

#surprise! the lan wangji post was about wei wuxian all along!#this aspect of him is really interesting though and comparing situational responses IS so interesting #it really makes you see just how well written the characters are – their patterns under pressure ARE consistent and so many important-#-moments in the plot tie into those very aspects too #*holds mdzs up* i just think it's neat #lan wangji #wei wuxian #mdzs meta #my meta #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #魔道祖师 #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #gdc

100 notes · View notes

lurkingshan · 6 months

Text

Unknown Episode 6

Well, we wanted them to bring the pain, and my god did they do it. If you had any remaining doubt that this show knows exactly what it's doing with this story, this episode surely put it to rest. There were so many excellent scenes this week, and not all of them are strictly from the source material. I'm going to walk through the episode by favorite moments, because there is so much worthy of discussion here.

That first scene between Qian and Yuan, when Qian put his hand on Yuan's face and expressed his worry, was original to the show, and it got me right in the heart. It is exhausting to love someone you know won't love you back in the same way, and Yuan has been crumbling under the burden of trying to restrain his feelings while staying close to Qian. That Qian is both the source of his comfort and his agony makes it all so much harder, and Qian's blinders to Yuan's feelings means he is constantly making it worse for Yuan without meaning to.

I also loved the whole sequence at the H.O.T. party, from Yuan arriving sad and sick and vulnerable only to see Feng Ning getting cozy with his brother, to Qian knowing instantly that something was wrong with Yuan and becoming distracted, to Qian and Feng Ning's chat clearing up their relationship and the show allowing her to be awesome and not at all villainous about it, to Qian following Yuan into the backroom for the confrontation. It was a short sequence but it all built masterfully to the moment we've been waiting for since episode 1.

And what a scene that was. I loved that it began with Qian trying to care for Yuan like he always does. He is at a work event but he cannot focus on anything else until he knows Yuan is okay. But Yuan has hit his limit while his guard was down, and it all finally comes spilling out in the worst way possible. The emotions of this scene were perfect--Qian was truly shocked, deeply upset, and importantly, betrayed by Yuan crossing this boundary and imploding their relationship. And Yuan is also feeling upset and betrayed, because he has always counted on Qian to accept him no matter what, and in this moment, Qian failed him by rejecting him in a way he never has before. They are both clearly devastated to have this relationship ruined because for both of them, it is the most important one in their lives.

It's not surprising that Qian goes into full avoidance mode in the aftermath; he has no idea how to navigate his conflicting instincts. He doesn't want to reject Yuan and in fact it hurts him deeply to do so, but he can't accept him either. He's too shell shocked and angry to return to caretaking, but the guilt is clearly eating at him. So he hides, and finds a way to keep avoiding it by sending Yuan away. And this led to two more fantastic scenes, because this show cares about all its characters and the entire family unit, not just the two leads.

First, San Pang and Yuan. I love that despite making many mistakes and ultimately accelerating the implosion between the brothers, San Pang is not intentionally being malicious here. He is genuinely trying to help because he loves both Qian and Yuan, he doesn't want Qian to be hurt by Yuan's feelings, and he is clearly hoping Yuan can move on from it if he intervenes. Yuan knows this too, which is why he does not hate him despite his interference, and why he feels comfortable pushing San Pang to explain why his love for Qian is such a bad thing. I love that the show went here, and that San Pang couldn't come up with a logical reason why it's wrong. It just feels wrong to him, and isn't that the case with so much cultural taboo?

Second, I love this show so much for not forgetting Lili in all of this. Her increasing anxiety and fear at seeing her brothers' relationship fall apart without understanding why was so heartbreaking. This is her family, and she has had her own very rough childhood and survived parental abandonment too, and suddenly everything is blowing up and no one will explain it to her. Yuan clearly doesn't want to leave her anymore than he does Qian, but at this point he's not being left with much choice. And Qian is not in a headspace to offer her any explanation or comfort. I'm glad her pain was not overlooked.

The way this episode ended, with Yuan setting off for a lonely stint abroad, and Qian not even giving him a proper goodbye, was the final touch of heartbreak. Qian loves his brother so much, and I think he'll regret sending him away so coldly when he is finally able to process what happened here--he may already be starting to regret it, judging by the forlorn look on his face as he leaned in his doorway recalling their memories together. I was glad that at least he left Yuan a token to take with him; he can't face him right now, but he does care. Some time apart will likely do them some good, but in the meantime there will be a lot of loneliness in both their lives. This show hurts so good.

#unknown the series #taiwanese bl #shan shouts into the void

218 notes · View notes

acourtofmishapandmistakes · 5 months

Text

Shadowsongs

Summary: After Rhys and Feyre decide to take a trip away to the Summer Court for the night to escape the thralls of their newborn, Azriel is left caring for Nyx and finds that his greatest battle might just be getting him to sleep. I also recently rewatched the Labyrinth and forgot how much that movie slapped so the song from that is included.

As the Velaris tower clock chimed midnight, the sitting room of the River House was enveloped in the soft, ambient glow of faelight. Azriel sunk deeper into the plush, green, velvet couch, his expansive wings draped elegantly over the back of the chair, eyes heavy with exhaustion. His hand rhythmically patted the back of the squirming bundle nestled snugly against his chest. The babe, Nyx, resisted sleep with the tenacity of an Illyrian warrior, his tiny fists punching the air as if to protest the very concept of bedtime.

The room was a playful mess, strewn with toys - dolls lay abandoned, blankets were tossed aside, and bottles had rolled under chairs. Azriel had assured Feyre and Rhys he could manage babysitting for a day and night. They desperately needed a break after months of non-stop parenting in tandem with running the Night Court, and a trip to the breezy shores of the Summer Court was the only thing keeping Feyre from collapsing into tears. Feyre had sobbed when they left, overwhelming Azriel with reminders of Nyx’s schedule and a litany of do’s and don'ts, which Azriel already knew inside and out. Her maternal instincts flared to the point where Rhys had to gentle pull her away, reassuring her that Nyx would be fine for one night, and, if anything, they should be more concerned about Azriel surviving Nyx than Nyx surviving Azriel.

Typically, everyone shared babysitting duties throughout the week day, but with Nesta and Cassian off in the Autumn Court, Elain incapacitated by her first fae cycle, and Amren claiming she would rather cut out her own tongue than be left alone with a babe, the responsibility had fallen to Azriel. Leaving Nyx overnight for the first time might have been a tad ambitious.

“Come on, Nyx,” he coaxed with a whisper of amusement. “You’ve got to give in at some point.” Azriel briefly considered that perhaps this was how the victims of his torture efforts may have felt when they had been kept awake for hours on end. Perhaps he should start having them babysit a fussy Illeryian babe instead of cutting off fingers. He chuckled to himself before pushing the thought away.

Yet, Nyx remained defiant, his violet eyes locked on the ceiling, deep in thought, as if unraveling the secrets of the cosmos rather than giving in to slumber. Azriel exhaled deeply, his fingers threading through his tousled black hair. After learning about Feyre’s pregnancy he had stealthily devoured every parenting book Feyre had purchased, to the perfect formula-to-water ratio, optimal bath temperatures, and baby sensory activities, he had learned it all. When Feyre faced challenges with breastfeeding, Azriel had accidentally revealed his clandestine studies by suggesting a particular latching technique. Cassian had teased him relentlessly since. Despite employing every baby battle strategy known to him, Nyx was relentless.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel sank even further into the plush cushions, resigning himself to a long night. As he watched Nyx’s tiny chest rise and fall with each breath, he couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer stubbornness of the new babe. Azriel couldn’t tell if that was more from Feyre or Rhys, and then decided that that trait most likely came from his Auntie Nesta, whom Nyx had wrapped around his tiny, chubby fingers.

In the dimly lit room, Azriel’s gaze followed his shadows as they danced across the ceiling, capturing Nyx’s rapt attention. With a grin, he watched them twirl and twirl – they were always more playful when Nyx was around. His shadows seemed as curious about Nyx as he was about them. During gatherings at the River House, it wasn’t uncommon for the shadows to envelop Nyx, tickling him and teasing him, eliciting peals of laughter from the delighted babe as he reached out to catch them.

Elain had said before that the shadows and Nyx reminded her when she and her sisters were young, a black barn cat would seek her out to frolic among the late summer heat. Azriel wondered what Nyx made of these ethereal companions, if they were like an animal to him, or another playmate. He also pondered whether the shadows would maintain their fascination with him as he grew older. Azriel, himself, hadn’t spent much time around children this young, and his shadows seemed to be so gentle with the babe, as though they somehow could sense his innocence and hoped he would keep it forever.

As Azriel and Nyx both kept their gaze to the ceiling, the shadows began to craft intricate shapes and forms, transforming into a mesmerizing puppet show. Nyx’s restless squirming subsided as the shadows danced across the walls, casting enchanting silhouettes that swirled and twirled in their silent ballet creating a tableau of delight.

On the ceiling, an array of animals appeared in what resembled a grand ballroom scene. Pegasus, birds, and sheep mingled before parting to reveal a single swan, its wings unfurling with ethereal grace. The swan bowed elegantly before twirling loftily above its admiring audience. Then, emerging from the gathered shadows, a sly fox approached, gracefully taking the swan’s wings in its paws and spinning it in a delicate dance. Although the room was silent, one could easily imagine the soft strains of music. Nyx reached up excitedly, prompting Azriel to adjust his hold, lifting him slightly higher for a better view.

As the dance continued above, some shadows descended the walls and playfully twirled around Nyx, their cool touch eliciting giggles from the dark-haired babe.

The shadows conjured forth visions of Nyxs’ family, distant echoes of life beyond the cozy sitting room.

In one corner of the room, the shadows morphed into delicate snowflakes cascading down the wall. Above the floorboard, three figures raced across the scene – two winged Illyrians and one without wings. The winged males playfully lobbed snowballs at their wingless companion, who shielded his head with his hands. Suddenly, a log sprung from the ground, causing the wingless man to trip and tumble face-first into a pile of snow below. The two other males doubled over with laughter, one even dropping to his knees as the snow continued to fall. Nyx’s eyes widened with wonder, his tiny fingers reaching out to grasp the fleeting shapes. The snowball fight between his father and brothers drew excited coos and giggles from him, his laughed echoing around the room.

In the other corner, the shadows drifted into a scene of a woman standing at an easel, the woman's stomach swollen with child. The shadow woman stood before an easel, her brush moving across the canvas, she ran her hand over her stomach, glancing down towards it when a man walked in behind her, twirling her around into an embrace. The man leaned over, placing a tender kiss on the woman's stomach. Nyx babbled joyfully, his tiny feet kicking Azriel’s chest with delight, which while uncomfortable brought a smile to his face.

Across the ceiling, the shadows painted a scene of a great battle, a field of war and chaos as two winged males fight back to back against a vast army, shooting arrows and swinging swords.

While the shadows swirled the tapestry of memories, Azriel looked only at Nyx, who giggled and babbled in delight at the unfolding scenes. With each passing moment, it became increasingly apparent to Azriel that while the shadows were doing their best to soothe Nyx to sleep, they had only awakened him more. It became glaringly obvious that bedtime stories wouldn’t work.

Nyx’s giggles and coos echoed through the River House. With a sigh, Azriel gestured for the shadows to cease their dance, and the room was once again plunged into a soft, dim glow.

“Alright, Nyx,” Azriel murmured, his voice gentle but tinged with exhaustion. “Let’s try something else.”

He drew Nyx back into his arms, cradling him close against his chest. Rising from the enveloping comfort of the couch, Azriel’s footsteps were muted against the plush rug of the sitting room as he began to meander through the house. Moonlight streamed through the towering windows, casting the ornate corridors in a serene silvery light, illuminating the walls adorned with Feyre’s vibrant paintings.

Feyre and Rhys had both endured their share of sleepless nights, pacing the same halls with Nyx in their arms. Rhys had noted that being the babe of the Night Court it seemed all Nyx wanted to do was explore the world when the sun had set and all had gone quiet. Perhaps Nyx was more bat than babe.

Undeterred, Azriel pressed on, his footsteps echoing through the halls as he swayed in arms in a steady rhythm. But Nyx remained stubbornly awake, his eyes darting from window to window cooing loudly. As he reached the grand staircase that spiraled upwards, a faint cry echoed through the silence. Nyx stirred in his arms, his tiny fists clutching at his shirt as he let out a wail.

Azriel attempted to shush the fussy baby who now was wailing louder for what seemed no apparent reason. Perhaps Nyx was finally fighting exhaustion as well. With a sigh, Azriel retraced his steps, as he stepped into Nyx’s nursery.

Feyre had taken months to finally get the nursery the way she envisioned it. She had wanted Nyx’s room to encompass the entirety of Prythian as they were unsure what powers Nyx might hold.

Each wall of the room was a canvas of vibrant colors and intricate designs including the bay window that Feyre had insisted be where Nyxs’ bassinet be.

Painting the Spring Court wall had been a battle unto itself with Rhys and Cassian joking constantly that the wall should be burning to the ground, or that she should paint Tamlin being pursued by a dragon. Feyre had just shot them an obscene gesture and instead painted spring blossoms of pastel pinks and greens. Delicate flowers bloomed amidst emerald meadows, their petals unfurling in the warmth of the sun. Amongst the meadow was a warm pool with a waterfall cascading down a mountainside.

Opposite, the wall of Summer blazed with the fiery hues of the sun, a tapestry of gold and crimson beamed down onto the deep blue sea, where Tarquin’s white castle glistened atop the white sandstone mountain.

Next to it, the wall of Autumn was a symphony of earthy greens, oranges, reds, and browns. The Autumn Court forest held deep shadows which made the wheat fields protruding from them seem like shining gold. Lucien had helped Feyre paint this wall, and his awkward-looking, disproportionate deer and fawns clearly showed that.

Beside the Autumn wall, the Winter Court lay shrouded in a blanket of icy blues and silvery whites. Snowflakes danced amidst frost kissed pines, their branches bending beneath the weight of the winter embrace. Bears and arctic foxes scampered on the piles of snow, wearing the traditional colors. Elain had insisted on giving the little foxes scarves. Azriel had reminded her they were made for that sort of weather but Elain had only glanced at him sadly before saying “But what if they get cold” before she painted tiny mittens on the bears.

On the half of the ceiling closest to the door, Feyre had painted the Dawn and Day courts. Sunlight streamed through branches of ancient oaks as it rose from the corner of the room, and hills of rolling green with children from each court playing amongst them filled out the space.

Over Nyxs’ crib, Feyre had painted a deep blue color of the sky with a sparkle of stars strewn across it. Rhys had enchanted the space just below the ceiling to be constantly in motion with sparkling star dust which moved in and out of constellations, with the occasional shooting star flying high above.

As Nyx continued his tirade of shrill cries, Azriel rocked him around the room, shushing him as much as he could. As he continued to sway gently with Nyx in his arms, the baby began to quiet, his tiny body nestled into Azriels chest as his breaths steadied. With a tender smile, he began to sing, his voice a gentle melody through the darkness, like a whispered prayer.

“I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry,” he sang, “What could I do?”

With each note, Nyx grew more and more relaxed, his eyelids fluttering closed from the gentle cadence and rocking.

“My baby’s love had gone and left my baby blue” he sang, his voice soft and tender, “Nobody knew.”

Azriel watched Nyx’s tiny fingers curl against his chest, his breathing slow and steady and sleep drifted closer.

“What kind of magic spell to use, slime and snails, puppy dog tails, thunder or lightning,” Azriel continued to sing as he wandered carefully over to the crib.

“Dance magic, dance magic dance, dance magic dance,” He lowered Nyx into the soft blue oasis. “Jump magic, jump, jump magic, put that baby’s spell on me, kiss my baby, make her free,” Azriel placed his palm onto Nyx’s chest and continued to rub back and forth soothingly.

“I saw my baby,” He continued, softer, more of a whisper, “Trying hard as babe could try, what could I do?” Azriel dropped to his knees, his fingers tracing the lines of the baby's face as he rested his arm on the side of the bassinet and laid his head atop it. “My baby’s fun had gone, and left my baby blue, nobody knew.” Nyx’s soft pink lips fell open slightly as his eyes finally closed and his head fell to the side. Azriel smiled and found his eyes drifting shut as well.

Feyre found them the next morning that way. Nyx sprawled on his back, his tiny fingers wrapped around Azriels, and Azriel, a piled heap on the floor, his wings splayed on the floor behind him with his head still resting against the crib.

Rhys walked up behind her as Feyre motioned him silently. “I guess he does sleep,” she whispered.

“Who?” Rhys chuckled, “Az or Nyx?”

Feyre turned her head to look at Rhys, “Both I guess.”

Rhys asked Feyre if she planned to go in and wake either of them up but Feyre only shook her head, “I think they both could use a little more time.”

With that, Feyre shut the door quietly, leaving the warrior and the babe to sleep a little longer.

153 notes · View notes

pianokantzart · 1 year

Text

The Dog Scene from The Super Mario Brothers Movie

Thank you @scribeprotra for permitting me to unleash this. Followup to this post: X

First of all, this scene is the first time we get to see Mario do actual plumbing, and it establishes that this business isn’t just a pipe dream (ha ha). Mario is actually a really skilled plumber. He sees the problem, knows what to do in an instant, and wraps it all up in less than a minute. So later, when all of Brooklyn is flooded, and Mario laughs that the hired workers “aren’t even looking in the right place”, we can believe he knows what he’s talking about.

Then, comes trouble: Francis The Dog, Mario and Luigi’s first real adversary... a kind of tutorial boss fight. Foreman Spike was antagonistic, but he was all talk. He would bully, threaten, and get aggressive, but he wasn’t going to throw the first punch. Francis, however, is out for blood.

We see an echo of what happened earlier when they confronted Spike. Mario stands between Luigi and danger, pushing him back, ready to defend him. However, unlike Spike, Francis doesn’t walk away, he goes for the throat, and it throws both brothers off kilter.

Luigi, while anxious and fearful, proves he’s not a man of mindless panic. When Francis comes at him he’s yelling for Mario’s help, but he himself is climbing to higher ground while grabbing the nearest available object (a toilet brush) to defend himself. This pattern continues for the rest of the movie: though he isn’t much of a fighter, his survival instincts are quite good.

Mario, on the other hand, immediately turns combative when Francis goes after Luigi. He draws the dog’s attention, and they skirmish for a bit before Mario finally seals Francis off inside the shower. Mario is not exactly a warrior yet, but he definitely has good fighting instincts.

Of course, let’s not forget Luigi holding off the jet of water with the mirror foreshadowing him holding back Bowser’s flames with the manhole cover. That’s been talked about before... I want to talk about THIS shot:

Mario is holding out a wrench like a sword, Luigi is holding up the mirror like a shield. That is them in a nutshell, and why they work so well together: they are sword and shield, offense and defense, impulse and caution, working together to balance each other out.

When Francis leaps at them, they instinctually hold on to each other for dear life, but still manage to duck out of the way at just the right moment as the dog accidentally flings himself out the window behind them.

Despite the dog being a violent threat, he is also a beloved pet to the homeowners. So what does Mario do? He throws himself out the window after Francis.

He trusts Luigi won’t let him fall, and he doesn’t. There was no time for a plan to be discussed, they were simply on the same wavelength.

IN CONCLUSION: The dog scene is what introduces the audience to the very different ways Mario and Luigi react to danger. It also shows us how tight their bond is, and why they work off each other so well, even beyond the emotional support they provide each other. The one downside is that the scene hints at a really cool fighting dynamic that we didn’t have time to properly explore in the film. The next time Mario and Luigi are fighting side by side they’re effortlessly mowing down enemies with the power star, and the sword-shield dynamic is lost. But I’m very excited to see the future of how they work as a team now that we’ve established the setting and set the two up to become heroes.

#mario movie #mario movie spoilers #mario #luigi #mario movie analysis #wake up new essay just dropped #super mario brothers #super mario bros #super mario brothers movie

1K notes · View notes

igetnosleep · 3 months

Text

The Night We Met

Second attempt at angst might try again with the next one. I'm glad you all liked "Finally home" I guess you people were rabid for something soft..makes me feel like I hold power here lmao. Also this is connected to "Finally Home" and "Comfort" since those kind of inspired me to write this...Strangers to Lovers cause I like that shit.

So canon typical violence (it's RE so not surprising) and happy reading!

You didn’t like Leon.

Maybe it was the situation or the fact that you couldn’t bear to separate yourself from him after you managed to escape Raccoon City but you didn’t want to stay away from him.

You’d so happen to meet the stupid blonde when you nearly bludgeoned him with a rusty pipe in the darkened halls of the police station. Too many fucking rooms too many of the undead trying to crawl through the windows, not enough sleep in your system to get through the night that seemed never ending.

All of this happening in the span of a day or two.

You’d seen your friend die in front of you by one of those..things. Now here you were with a man you’d just met who was supposed to be a cop.

“Come on, aren't you a cop?!” You hissed hearing the groans and shuffling through the halls as he held your hand like he was trying to guide you. You’d be kicking and screaming if it didn’t mean certain death. Leon only shrugged, looking to the side almost nervously under your scrutinizing gaze, “It’s my first day.”

You blinked, staring at him, “The fuck did you just say?” you whispered a bit too quietly, too calmly for his liking. Leon didn’t need to turn around to see your face; he could feel your piercing gaze against his temple, almost debating if you should take him out with you.

“I said-”

“I know what you just said.”

“Then why did you-”

“Leon, I'm going to hit you if you don’t shut up.”

He promptly kept his mouth shut until you deemed it okay.

Leon didn’t have survival instincts like you’d expect him to. Always eager to help, always sticking to the rules, you’d even tried to reason with him but he wasn’t swayed, if it weren’t for the fact that you were in the middle of the apocalypse, you’d admire him, but you’d almost hit him before you jumped at the sight of the man on the other side of the jail cell turn into a bloody pulp by the..whatever it was as it walked away.

You never considered yourself kind, some of the things you did while finding a place to hide out would be considered heartless. You accepted that you’d never get into heaven, your tongue having spewed more blasphemy in your life time that you were sure that Saint Peter would smile kindly before pushing you down into the lake of fire before disinfecting his hands and going back to his post.

Leon believed in an afterlife. He liked to believe that his parents were somewhere better, somewhere kinder than the life that they were given. Something more peaceful than the death they had lived.

“You speak from experience?” You asked him, earning an expression you could only read as shame from him, you could picture the dog ears pressed against his head. The way he looked like he wanted to cry maybe it was him missing home, you didn’t blame him, you wanted to go home too. You sighed not imagining that this was how you’d spend the apocalypse squeezing the hand of a rookie cop in an attempt to tell him that it would be okay?

The halls of the police station and the foreboding dread in your gut, Leon was a good distraction from the constant stream of fear. You’d squeezed his hand and tried to imagine something better than whatever was trying to kill you at the moment.

You didn’t like Leon, you found him cute, like a puppy it was hard not to look at him and forgive him right away. His face was soft, eyes wide and hopeful. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and you wanted to pet him. You obviously wouldn’t because hello you just met the guy. He felt soft too, healthy and still had his baby fat.

He reminded you of a golden retriever, maybe even a labrador. Dogs were nice to think about. Now imagining him with dog ears made you smile a bit. A small bit of peace one he gave you while he was flattered by the attention you gave him he never admitted it though. With cheeks tinted red “That would be embarrassing.” the rookie cop thought to himself.

Leon liked you. Maybe more than he could admit at the moment. Maybe because he latched onto you faster than a baby chick would to the first thing it saw. He liked the way you latched onto him recalling the way Marvin side-eyed him reminding him to keep his head on a swivel. “Just because you found someone doesn’t mean you can have your head in the clouds, understand?” a quick “Yes, sir.” from him and he pulled you along with him.

Was that the selfish thing to do?

Drag a civilian along with him?

You were pretty, yes, he would never deny it, the way you did things the hard way because it was the only thing you could think of at the moment. But it did make him smile when he bothered you about it.

You looked cute when you pouted, cheeks tinted red in embarrassment. “Shut up. It was the only thing I could think of.” you whined as he laughed.

Why’d he have to look like a ray of sunshine? Why’d he have to make you feel..happy?

You didn’t like Leon.

You didn’t.

You don’t.

“What did you do before this?” he asked curiously while you were stuck in one of the rooms waiting for the undead to pass by, his voice cutting you out of your thoughts. You looked up from the ground humming in thought.

“Tax fraud.”

“Seriously?”

“No, you big goof. I was a barista, worked in a coffee shop, over…somewhere.”

He noted the way your hand waved dismissively down the street from the police station right he noticed it from the fence. He fumbled around with his gun for a moment pretending to check the magazine while he pondered, maybe if he’d been here just a week early.

Maybe he would have met you, how would you look when you smiled or laughed at a joke.

He pushed the magazine back into place, shaking himself out of his thoughts. A weight settling on his shoulder had him tense, turning and looking over at you seeing you lean on his shoulder. Leon relaxed a small smile playing on his lips as he admired you.

You leaned on him, your body relaxing just a moment as he offered his shoulder, he was thoughtful, you liked that about him. His hand came up to your back and gently rubbed circles between your shoulders. “You’re doing great.” he hummed, leaning his forehead against yours, you could only glare weakly as he was using those stupid puppy eyes on you. You poked the soft pudge hiding under the bulletproof vest. “Shut up.”

A small bit of silence left you two relaxed momentarily forgetting about the shuffling and the random thumps and bumps against the door.

Ada was someone you didn’t trust, she spoke to the point but in circles, never willing to give you a straight answer. In all honesty, if it were any other day if it didn’t feel like the world was ending, you’d be fawning over her like some sort of moron.

For fucks sake she was wearing heels during a zombie outbreak you internally felt yourself putting her on a pedestal practically forgetting about survival and choosing to trust this woman who looked like she was coming out of a fashion catalog.

Noticing your staring Ada, snapped her fingers at you and you stood in attention feeling your face burn in embarrassment. Great, now you look stupid in front of the pretty lady.

Leon didn’t hide his admiration for her, you couldn’t blame him, she had an air of confidence, independence, a person who you wanted to be with but couldn’t attain.

She was mildly amused by your poor attempts at flirting “You’d have better luck telling Leon those jokes of yours.” She hummed as you helped bandage her leg. You only looked confused “What do you mean?” “Come on, you're practically clinging to him giving him those eyes,” She gestured vaguely to your face, you’d still stared at her confused, she rolled her eyes staring at you in disbelief “You’re telling me you don’t like him?” You snort hearing it echo through the sewer “No.” she didn’t seem amused with you.

The train leading away from the city was melancholic and frankly bittersweet, you made it. Somehow you survived just when you were about to leave a note or something for someone to find on your corpse. Leon looked somewhat satisfied relaxing as he just leaned on your shoulder as the train went on towards an unknown location.

His hand gripped yours, fingers interlacing, a nap sounded perfect at the moment. His body was screaming for rest and you felt like a small piece of heaven. Your thumb swiped over his knuckles. “Go on. I’ll wake you up when we stop, okay?” He couldn’t say no to that.

The woman, Claire, stared at you from the corner of her eye. A clear need of an explanation was visibly wanting to pry you for an explanation.

“We met in the police station.” She deflated sitting down on the ground next to…Sherry? Her name was? Yeah she introduced herself to you almost enthusiastically in her tired state, fell asleep like a rock to the insistence of you and Claire. “Sorry we arrived in the city together and we got separated. I thought something happened to him.” She admitted their relationship, acquaintances, “Something almost happened, I almost hit him with a pipe.” Claire felt bad that she laughed at that.

The train stopped a few hours later and once you all reached civilization it was time to go your separate ways. Claire was looking for someone and whatever happened down in Umbrella she looked determined to investigate it.

You understood why but after everything, you just wanted to suppress the memories and go on with your life and you agreed to take in Sherry. Claire looked like she felt bad but you waved her off, “I’ve got like five cousins her age. She’ll be fine.” you assured the redhead as she hugged you, she didn’t look like she was the maternal type anyway, she was younger from what you gathered about her talking about her brother.

She should be able to find him without worrying about the safety of someone else.

A brief glance around your shoulder saw Leon looking exhausted, the mental fortitude he had to not break down crying was worrisome. You couldn’t blame him. You felt the same, what do you do in that situation now that you had to look after someone, you couldn’t cry or scream. No, Sherry wouldn’t react well to a breakdown.

You offered your hand to the little girl and she hesitantly accepted as Leon led the way with a hand on your back as you managed to find a military base ahead.

Looking back, a part of him wished he had been more vigilant, maybe he could have protected you and Sherry. Instead you were both dragged off somewhere with blindfolds over your eyes. He fought against the men screaming at them to bring both of you back only to get a whack to the back of his head and he was out like a light.

Leon woke up after the men had separated from both of you. Heart pounding his breathing erratic as a man in front of him commended him for making it out of Raccoon City alive. “Rookie with a hell of a first day.” wearing a crooked smile that made his stomach turn.

Where were you? Were you okay? Did they hurt you?

They made him an offer. An ultimatum. They didn’t really give him much of a choice.

You had been sitting alone clutching Sherry close afraid of the men surrounding you, hands close to their weapons and their eyes wandering staring trying to get a read on you. Your leg bounced the heel of your shoe clicking against the ground, you were sweating bullets, heart beating rapidly.

You tried to calm down. Nothing was working.

When you saw Leon again after what felt like hours you practically ran up and hugged him, his arms wrapping around you squeezing you so close you almost missed the way he was shaking. His face buried in your neck fingers curling around your shirt wrinkling the already ruined fabric. He only pulled away to kiss your shoulder whispering apologies into your skin. “I’m sorry.”

It was like you blinked and he was gone, gone to whatever new hell they’d introduce him to. The government relocated you and Sherry, not together I’m afraid.

You tried to live life like normal but nothing got rid of the nightmares. Dates ran away from your screaming like roaches to sudden exposure to light. New forms of comfort taken from scalding hot showers and wrapping yourself in blankets galore. You nabbed a pitbull from some dumpster. It didn’t seem to matter.

A part of you wanted Leon back. Someone who understood you, someone who'd give you a shoulder to cry on at the moment. You were ashamed to admit that you needed him so bad. It was only one night. One fucking night he didn’t sleep with you. Not like that anyway. Why did you feel so strongly for that dumb blond?

You didn’t like Leon.

You didn’t.

Six years later you saw Leon again.

Standing at your door looking different from the rookie cop you met that night.

A frozen look of shock on your face as you stared at him.

Your mouth felt dry, your blood went cold.

Oh fuck.

You liked Leon.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy

106 notes · View notes

noxturnalpascal · 4 months

Text

Devotion 🖤 III. Path to the Future (Ch 9)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

III. Path to the Future

CH 9 (6k) “She left.”

The words ring in his ears, drowning out the cacophony of multiple things happening all at once. He’s trying to throw a jacket and shoes on while Tess is grabbing at him and begging him to wait until first light. He’s grabbing at Danny and demanding to know everything while Diego wails, apologizing that they didn’t look after you enough. The noise brings the other women downstairs and they all shout over each other, some arguing Joel should wait for a search party to be formed and some saying they’ll go with him and should leave right now.

In the end, Joel acquiesces to Tess, not wanting to ignore her heartfelt pleading after the hours they just spent commiserating together. He waits until first light to leave with Danny, Diego, and Sasha in tow. He orders Danny and Diego to ride their mounts to the east and west, climbing opposite peaks on either side of the valley to look for any sign of you. He sends Sasha north along the valley to look for the same and orders everyone to send up smoke signals if they see anything and to meet back at the house no later than sundown. But he knows all of those efforts will be fruitless.

He already knows that you wouldn’t bother coming back through the town when your goal was clearly to get as far away from him as possible. You would have left the farm and continued south, which is the direction he goes. As Sasha stuffs snacks and canteens in everyone’s packs before they split up, she repeats Joel’s words back to him several times, meet back here by sundown, but by the look on her face she already knows what he does, that he won’t be back until he’s found you.

---

Joel watched for smoke signals behind him all day until the sun began to sink below the treeline, making it impossible for him to see anything short of flares, which he knew they didn’t have. He figured he’d be the first one to see signs of you anyways, which he did eventually. The next town south in the valley was about a four hour walk and while he knew you’d probably never been through there, it was well picked over by his people and had been free of infected every time he’d been there.

He thought you’d be cautious and avoid the town, his hunch confirmed when he made his way up the gentle slope just north of the town and saw the footprints you’d left. The spring sun had melted the snow and left the ground muddy, and when you’d come through here late last night you most likely hadn’t even thought about covering your tracks. But now he knows he chose the right direction, and he pushes forward along the ridge, following the breadcrumbs you unknowingly left for him.

Joel follows your tracks along the river - just beside the interstate - noticing you keep to the treeline instead of traveling along the roadway, which has better footing but would leave you exposed. You also head east, which is the opposite direction of the bigger mountain range and also away from the state’s most populated city. You’re avoiding overexertion and big-cities. Maybe you do have some survival instincts after all.

He nearly loses your tracks mid-afternoon when you veer away from the river at another city but takes a gamble and catches signs of you again along the road leading towards the New Hampshire border. You’re not looking for populated areas here, there isn’t even any evidence you’ve stopped anywhere along the way. He assumes you’ve already got a destination in mind and are focused on heading there.

Long after sunset Joel finally decides to find a place to lie down for a while. He lays there in the dark and tries not to think about how worried Tess must be since he never came back, or how you’re somewhere out here too - all alone in the cold darkness. He knows this is all his fuckin’ fault. What a mess he’s made. He actually convinced himself that he was helping people, that he was saving them. He let himself believe them when they told him what a good man he was, a protector and a provider.

He falls into a fitful sleep and when he awakes a short time later he decides to forgo any further attempts at rest and continue on your trail. He hopes you spent more time with your eyes closed than he did and he can make up some ground on the head start you got. He follows your winding trail along the woods’ edge, through overgrown fields, around a quarry, and over creeks, all avoiding any majorly populated areas.

The only time you leave yourself exposed is through an hours-long stretch going through a wooded valley, where walking the roadway is your solitary option to avoid climbing up and down the rocky hills on either side of the pavement. By his calculations you probably traveled this section last night while he attempted sleep, which would have made your trek along the road a more protected position than he is currently in, trudging though the early morning hours and into the rising sun.

He hikes on through the morning, thinking over and over in his head what he’ll say to you when he finds you, and eats the last of his packed food around noon. He knows he can refill his canteen in the river just ahead, which creates the border of Vermont and New Hampshire. He also knows there’s a major city if he continues on his path and knows that’s the reason your tracks start to head south into what his map tells him is a wide forest.

This might be good he thinks, since he’s been hiking for nearly 30 hours and only slept a handful of them. He knows he could use a shady and secure place to take a nap. He waits until he’s about an hour’s hike from the last farm he passed before he walks off the trail to find somewhere to rest. Keeping the road just in sight, he walks straight through the woods and over a brook, finding a soft collection of last autumn's fallen leaves on which to rest his head. With the bird songs in his ear and the soft rustle of trees above him, sleep quickly overtakes him.

He jolts awake, a sound skimming his senses and alerting him to danger. He lies there, statue-still, and tries to listen past the woosh of the pumping blood in his ears, taking deep breaths to slow his thumping heartbeat. It’s dark here in the thick trees and the sun is low in the sky. He must have slept most of the afternoon away but he can tell it’s not evening yet. Suddenly Joel realizes it’s not a sound that woke him but the lack of sound. There are no birds singing, no insects buzzing, just the eerie sound of the branches creaking and the new spring leaves dancing on their boughs.

He slowly sits up - weapon in hand and his head on a swivel - trying to listen for the clues that nature around him has already picked up on. A predator is nearby. Infected wouldn’t be this quiet, they’re mindless and insatiable and only care about one thing. This is either a large animal or a human. He actually finds himself hoping to catch sight of a black bear as opposed to the alternative.

Before he can get up from his sleeping position he hears quick footsteps behind him and a blunt crack to the back of his head, the pain radiating across his skull. He slumps forward and groans in pain, his hands loosening around his gun. He hears footsteps move around the front of him and feels his rifle being snatched out of his slackened grasp. A foot kicks at his torso and he groans again.

“He’s not out, you gotta hit him again,” he hears you say above him.

No, it can’t be you. There’s no way.

“I’m not getting near him again, you said he was dangerous,” he hears a male voice behind him say.

You’re goddamn right he’s dangerous, and as soon as his head stops pounding he’s going to-

A second thump, this time on the side of his head, is the last thing he feels before everything goes black.

---

Joel doesn’t gain consciousness quickly, like coming up for air after being underwater. Instead it comes back in waves, just a few words here and there, a musty smell, the familiar sound of your voice, the beam of a flashlight hitting his eyelids. He’s trying to make sense of it but it’s all jumbled up and he’s not sure how to put the pieces together. He tries to sort out his thoughts bit by bit, every time he’s conscious he tries to figure one thing out and hold it in his mind, to remember it before he passes out again.

He knows he’s in a chair, he can hear murmured echos so he imagines the room is large, but the soft sounds of crickets outside tell him there's at least one window nearby. He knows he’s tied up, he can feel bindings wrapped around him and his arms are pinned behind his back. He knows he’s been relieved of his guns, the usual weights at his hip and ankle not present. When he’s finally able to stay awake for long enough to string a coherent thought together, he decides to open one eye for a peek at his surroundings.

He’s in a very large and long room - wooden tables and chairs scattered around - creating a maze of objects between him and five figures standing on the opposite end of the room. It’s dark - he’s been out for a while - and he can’t make out their faces or their conversations but he can see that two are tall and three are shorter. He thinks at least one of them is a woman. Could it be you? He thought he’d heard your voice.

Unable to hear any actual words amidst the murmur of conversation, Joel looks around again, trying not to move his head so he still appears unconscious. Divided windows line both sides of the building, moonlight pouring in from what he imagines is the south side and reflecting off the stark white rafters above him. He takes in the amount of chairs and tables in front of him and although he can’t turn his head, he would wager money there’s a kitchen behind him. If he had to guess where he was he’d say this was probably an old summer camp’s dining hall, the craftsman style construction pointing to a mid-century build.

He hears shuffling and sees two of the figures crossing the room towards him so he shuts his eyes and pretends to be unconscious again. Around tables and chairs he hears their soft footsteps, he’s still out muttered by a deep, gruff voice. He hears the footsteps stop just in front of him and feels a couple pokes to his chest. He does his best to play possum until he hears your voice - definitely your voice - shouting from across the room.

“You better make sure you double check him for weapons.”

“You already told us that three fuckin’ times,” a nasally voice with a southern twang shouts back.

A different, deeper voice says to quit hollerin’, then there’s a short back and forth between the two men in front of him filled with curse words while he hears stomping feet making their way over from the other side of the room. He hears your voice again but this time all three of you are cussing in hissed whispers, the most prominent phrase being fuck you, and he can’t take it anymore. He lifts his head up and stares right into your eyes.

“Oh fuck,” a tall asshole with the deep voice says, raising a pistol in front of him aimed right at Joel’s face.

“I told you,” you say.

Even in the dark Joel can see purple bruising around your left eye and a split in your lip, still oozing wetness. That’s a fresh wound.

“Shut up, whore,” a nasally twat that might weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet barks at you.

Okay, Joel thinks, he’s gonna snap this rude twig in half first for talking to you like that. Did he give you those marks on your face?

“Quit fuckin’ callin’ her that,” the tall one elbows the twig and then pulls you into his grasp.

He watches you break eye contact with him as you wrap your arms around the giant’s middle - seriously, this guy must be nearly seven feet tall - burying your face in the center of his torso. He hears your muffled voice say I told you he’d come for me into his dirty sweatshirt as his free hand moves down your side and squeezes your hip. Change of plans. The big fucker dies first.

The other two people make their way across the room as String Bean grabs a knife off his hip, which Joel recognizes as the knife he put on his own hip when he left the house yesterday morning. He watches this idiot flick it around in front of him like some kind of hillbilly ninja, the knife glinting in the moonlight. It’s pathetic but it’s the only thing keeping him from boring holes into the back of your head as you remain clutched to that big oaf like a goddamn koala bear. He subtly tests the ropes used to tie him to the chair.

The two that join the group are a chubby guy maybe five and half feet tall, and a girl just a bit shorter than him, both of whom look to be teenagers. The tall one tucks the gun into his waistband and they all engage in a terrible exercise of whispering, pointing back and forth. Joel knows he’s half-deaf in one ear but they know they’re talking about him right in front of him, right? From what he can surmise, the two younger ones are a couple, and the girl’s big brother is the tall guy you’re climbing like a tree. He’s not sure how the scrawny one fits into the equation or how you got mixed up in this. Do you know these people?

“So are we gonna get rid of him, or what?” Skinny asks.

“That’s not part of the plan,” you snap, pointing your finger in his face.

Joel watches him slap your finger away and then get pushed by the big guy before all of you devolve into loud whispers again, cursing and hissing. This is getting very old very quickly. He tests the ropes again, flexing his arms and chest against them. He’s tied pretty tight with more than one length of rope. Jesus, what did you tell them, that he was Houdini? The bickering still hasn’t stopped so Joel clears his throat and the noise finally ceases, everyone turning to stare at him. Except you. You won’t meet his eyes.

Just like old times.

“You ready to get the fuck outta here, baby?” he says, looking right at you.

He watches everyone else’s face swivel to look at you. You tilt your head slightly and meet his eyes.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, asshole,” you twist your last word like a knife into his gut.

He watches Big Guy snake his arms around your middle from behind, drawing you back to his chest. Who the fuck does this jerkoff think he is putting his hands on you? And why don’t you seem to mind? Skinny points at Joel and starts to get mouthy but Big Guy lets you go and drags Skinny and Chubby away from the group and behind Joel, leaving you and the girl alone in front of him. He figures this is as good an opportunity as ever.

“PJ, I’m sorry-”

“Fuckin’ save it, Joel,” you hiss.

“Seriously though, what are we gonna do now?” Girl asks you, side-eyeing him.

“What do you mean? This doesn’t change the plan at all,” you say with confidence.

“You said he’d kill us,” Girl whispers loudly.

He watches your face as you pull her away from him but you don’t look back to meet his eyes. Your face is passive, giving nothing away. You told these people he would kill them? Why would you say that? You’ve never seen him kill anyone. You’ve probably never even heard about the terrible things he’s done. Of course he’s killed people, but so has everyone. He thinks you might have even had to do your fair share to survive. But why would you tell these people he’s a killer?

All three boys come around from behind Joel, Skinny stomping around with a large folded up paper in his hand. He shoves it in Joel’s face and points to it forcefully.

“Show us where you came from,” Skinny says.

Joel sees the paper is the map of the state of Vermont he’d been traveling with. Luckily nothing on it is marked, so there’s no indication where the Valley might be.

“He’s not gonna-” you start.

“Slut,” Skinny snarls. “You really need to learn when to shut the fuck up.”

“No she’s right,” Joel says, drawing Skinny’s attention back to him. “I’m not gonna tell you shit.”

Skinny opens his mouth to protest but you speak first.

“I told you I know how to get there, we don’t need a map,” you sigh.

“I don’t fuckin’ trust you!” Skinny whines, turning around to throw a mock punch in your face. You wince.

“You need to calm down,” Big Guy hums at his rageful companion, pulling you towards him again and away from Skinny’s reach. “She told us she’d get us there and it’s in her best interest not to fuck us over.”

Joel doesn’t miss the way Big Guy’s hand tightens around your arm when he says it’s in your best interest to cooperate.

“We been on the road for nearly two fuckin’ weeks and I’m gonna be real fuckin’ pissed if this little whore is jerkin’ us around,” Skinny hisses.

“I’m not,” you say, looking up at Big Guy.

“I hope not, ‘cause we’re really hungry,” Girl says.

“Yeah,” Chubby agrees.

“Both of you shut the fuck up,” Skinny snaps, pointing a crooked finger in the girl’s face. “You ate your weight in pickles this morning. Besides, your fat ass could go another week without food.”

This time Big Guy has had enough. He yanks you to his left by your arm and steps towards Skinny, right arm pulled back and threatening a punch. Skinny jumps back, arms in front protecting his face and starts muttering apologies, saying he was just kidding, avoiding the punch Joel isn’t sure Big Guy even intended to throw. Maybe he’s more bark than he is bite. However, he thinks Skinny is exactly as much bite as he seems to be, no impulse control and a violent streak, and most likely the one who gave you those bruises. Joel can’t wait to kill these idiots and save you from them, then bring you back home where you belong.

“It’s late and it’s been a long day, we all need some rest if we’re gonna make the long trek tomorrow,” Big Guy says.

Joel thinks that it seems like Big Guy is the brains of this little operation, watching as he orders the young couple to sleep on the opposite side of the room where they can guard the doors. He tells Skinny to take first watch of Joel - who he refers to as the old guy - and then mumbles something to you about keeping you close before dragging you back into the kitchen behind Joel’s back.

---

It’s a muffled sound Joel hears at first but he’d know it anywhere, your soft sighs. He never thought when he heard you making those sounds again that he’d be so fucking pissed off. What is that fucker doing to you? He tests the ropes a third time, wishing he could reach into the back of his pants where he keeps a second knife tucked away, a small one clipped to his boxers for emergencies. Emergencies like this.

Skinny sits in a chair just across from Joel, about five feet away, watching him with a shit-eating grin on his face. If this idiot closes his eyes for a few minutes Joel thinks he can try and go for his knife. He’d be able to cut his bindings and start eliminating these morons one-by-one. But Skinny hasn’t closed his eyes. And you’re behind him with Big Guy right now, making gentle moaning noises. He needs to get free now.

“Ya hear that?” Skinny asks, smiling. Joel doesn’t answer. “He’s gonna dick your girl down real good.”

Joel feels his face heat, his ears burning while he clenches his teeth to avoid letting go of the growl that wants to escape his throat.

“She told us all about you, ya know?” Skinny sneers.

“Oh, did she?” Joel scoffs.

“She sure did,” He whistles. “She sang quite the song. Said you have the biggest stockpile of shit she’s ever seen, and you have all these fuckin’ people doin’ your bidding.”

Joel tries not to let surprise paint his features. You little shit. You told this jerkoff about the town, about all the food and supplies, about him and his flock? What did he do to you to make you confess all that? It’s fine, he’ll just play dumb, convince him you lied.

“That sounds pretty nice,” Joel muses, nodding his head slowly.

“Yeah, that’s what we thought,” Skinny laughs.

“Almost sounds too good to be true.”

“Does it?”

“Come on kid, it’s been ten years since the fuckin’ world ended,” Joel drawls, a smile on his face. “No one is livin’ like that. We’re all just scrounging for our next meal.”

“Yeah… she said you’d say that.”

“One thing you should know about her?” Joel’s smile disappears. “She’s a lying little bitch.”

“Well she’s certainly a bitch,” Skinny huffs. “...’cept I’m starting to think maybe she ain’t lyin’. She told us you’d follow her, and you did.”

“Oh? What else did she say?”

“She told us you’d have a hidden gun on your ankle, and you did.”

“Interesting,” Joel hums, the reminder that they took all his guns creating a renewed anger at his current situation.

“And she told us you’d lie your ass off to keep us from raiding your shit,” Skinny laughs. “And here you are, tryin’ to lie to me.”

“I thought you didn’t trust her,” Joel mocks.

“I trust you even less, old man.”

Joel settles back in his chair, flexing to test the bindings again as he hears wet noises coming from behind him. He hears a low grunting, what he assumes to be that tall fucker getting off with his fucking woman. He lets the growl rumble in his chest now, hoping it’ll drown out the sounds behind him and quell his murderous rage. Skinny makes a grating noise that could be a laugh. Joel stares at a dark knot in the hardwood floor and imagines wrapping his hands around Skinny’s stick neck.

“Sounds like yer girl isn’t yer girl anymore, don’t it?”

---

12 hours earlier…

You knew that you’d been hiking for over a day, although there was no real way for you to keep time. You left the farm at sunset and now the sun was rising on your second day. You tried to do a lot of your walking at night, pushing aside the childlike notion that the dark was scary while also trying to ignore the very real threat of actual monsters. Scary as it was, you knew that logically, you would at least hear clickers coming. It's more dangerous to be quietly stalked if seen by humans in the daylight. Still, you kept to the trees for most of your trek and even climbed one for a quick nap the first afternoon.

You weren’t sure if anyone was after you but figured there was a pretty good chance Joel would send out a search party once he heard, so keeping a steady pace and stopping as infrequently as possible were your main priorities. You thought you would outsmart him by heading away from the populated areas or outrun him by walking almost non-stop until you hit the ocean. You didn’t risk stealing a map from Hank’s shelves but you stared at it for long enough to memorize the route numbers you’d need to take, even making up a song to fit them into so they’d stick in your mind.

So now you were just next to Highway ninety one, which - according to your rhyming song - takes you south to Lebanon. You spot the sun shining off ripples of water through a brief clearing in the trees and decide to fill your canteen away from the more exposed river, heading to what ends up being a serene lake surrounded by a thick forest. It’s gorgeous here. The sun is shining and keeping you warmer than the crisp spring air would otherwise allow. The landscape glows green, finally coming back to life after a long winter.

This place reminds you of the lake you’d swam in during the summer camp you went to five years in a row as a child. Grab a swimming buddy, plug your nose, and jump in. God, you were fearless in those days. It's too cold to swim now but you wouldn’t anyways, not all by yourself. You walk the perimeter until you find a dock that will take you far enough away from shore to get some clear water without vegetation mixed in. Not that eating a little grass would kill you, but you’d prefer your water to just be water and not a salad.

God, you could go for a salad right now. Rosie made the best salads with a homemade vinaigrette that rivaled any dressing you’d had before the world ended. Why were you thinking of that now, of Joel’s house? You shouldn’t be thinking of that. Or of him. Fuck him. You were far away from him now, having finally escaped. You were staring out over the gentle ripples of a beautiful lake on a peaceful morning all alone. Enjoy this moment, you earned it, you tell yourself. You stand up and twist the lid closed on your canteen, stuff it into your pack and turn around.

Only you’re not alone.

There is a man at the end of the dock blocking your path.

Shit.

The fear starts to grip you, its icy tendrils shooting up your limbs and threatening to seize your rapidly beating heart in its grasp. No, you can’t freeze now, you have to keep your wits about you, you have to get yourself out of this situation. Making mental calculations as quickly as you can, you take off running down the old wooden dock, towards the shore, towards him.

Surprised by your sudden movement, the man takes a couple steps forwards on the dock, planning to take up even more space on your path. A few more steps and you’re within spitting distance from him. You see his arms come out in front of him to grab you. You quickly turn and leap off the dock, landing in the shallow water by the shore several feet away. You use your paltry headstart to your advantage and take off running along the shore.

You turn your head to look back and you see him, stumbling over his own long legs, having tripped and fallen into the shallow water. Relief bubbles up inside you like a percolating kettle, warming your insides and making you feel almost buoyant. You’re still looking backwards which is why you don’t see the six-foot-plus wall of man in front of you. Not until you smash into him and turn your head back, finding that his chest fills your entire field of vision. The pungent smell of his body odor stings your nose, nausea washing over you.

He twists you around so your back is to his chest and two anaconda arms wrap around your torso, squeezing you so tight you can barely breathe. You see the other man coming closer, soaking wet but laughing his fuckin’ head off, a mouth half-full of crooked, rotting teeth. He’s more of a boy than a man, now that you can see him closer. Probably early 20’s and around six feet tall. With his clothes soaking wet you can see how skinny he is, hardly any meat on his lanky frame. A nasal twang comes out of his voice between sputters and chuckles.

“You- You thought you were real slick back there, didn’t ya, bitch?”

“She gave you the fuckin’ slip, Roy,” a deep voice huffs above your head. “She woulda gotten away if I wasn’t here.”

“Whatever,” Roy mutters. “Shut up.”

---

You were practically carried around the lake until you arrived at an old summer camp, a worn wooden sign calling “Aloha” to its campers. Pulled inside a small white building, you’re tied to a chair by Roy - still dripping wet - in what looks like a space once used for arts and crafts. You see the really tall smelly guy and two shorter kids - one boy and one girl - going through your backpack, pulling out the food you’d stolen from the Mansfield’s root cellar. They’ve already eaten half of a jar of pickles by the time the ropes are secured around you tightly.

Roy strips off his wet coat and joins the group, prying open a container of applesauce and greedily drinking it straight from the mouth of the jar. You hear the girl offer the tall guy a wrapped up parcel and she calls him Mike. You watch Mike open your package of homemade smoked jerky that you were saving for later on your trip and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head. He looks over at you, catching you watching them, and holds it up above everyone’s heads.

“Where’d you get this?” he asks.

“I found it,” you whisper, your voice hoarse due to your too-tight restraints.

You don’t even have time to process the fist that Roy throws at your face until after it lands. You feel his knuckles hit the edge of your left orbital bone and slide into your eyeball, sharp pain shooting around your skull and straight back through your eye. You cry out and tears spring to your eyes, pouring even harder out of your left eye, which you can’t open. Your chest tries to heave with sobs as you hiccup, struggling to take deep breaths against the bindings. You hear Roy’s piercing voice over you.

“...so stop lying if you don’t want another one,” he finishes, flecks of applesauce flying out of his mouth to hit your face.

“I- I ca-, I can’t-,” you feel a tightness in your chest and you worry you’re going to start panicking, the blinding pain and the reality of your current situation hitting you simultaneously. This is bad. You’re sputtering. “I c- can’t b- b- breathe.”

Roy completely ignores your tears and your pleading, tipping the applesauce jar to his face and drinking down more of it.

Pain spreads across your chest like a white hot heat, quickly becoming all you can think about, even pushing the throbbing in your eye to the back of your mind. You continue to gasp and choke, breathlessly begging anyone who’ll listen, but unable to focus on any faces. It feels like your body is being crushed, like you’ve been buried alive, every breath you can’t take in fully is another bucket of dirt thrown on top of you. The bindings across your chest seem to get tighter and tighter, the ringing in your ears growing louder.

Finally relief is delivered when you realize the young girl is at your side, her hand on your shoulder and a knife in her hand. The pressure is gone. She’s cut the ropes away from you, leaving you to take the deep lungfuls of the air you need to calm yourself down.

She pats your shoulder to reassure you before Roy - realizing what she’s done - drops the jar of applesauce to the floor. Ignoring the shatter of the glass jar and the splatter of the rest of the applesauce all over the floor, Roy grabs her by her hair, causing her to yelp in pain. He begins to scream in her face, calling her every name in the book before a massive hand is pushing a pistol into his temple. The tall guy, Mike, shoves the gun so forcefully into Roy’s head that it pushes him to the side, away from the girl. He lets go of her and stumbles back a few feet.

“Don’t you ever put your hands on my fucking sister,” Mike says.

Sister? This is good. This is very good. If Mike is willing to protect his sister from Roy then he could be willing to protect you too. You watch the girl run to the third young man’s arms, his face still covered in baby fat. You watch as he kisses her cheeks, petting her hair and telling her everything is okay as tears spring from her eyes. Once Roy has calmed down Mike lowers the gun, uncocking the hammer, and looks to you. He raises his other hand, still holding the package of jerky.

“Where’d you get this?” he asks again.

You look around, surveying the faces of his companions, each of them looking at you expectantly. They look weary. They look hungry. Looking in Mike’s eyes last, you see his deep blue eyes under heavy lids looking at you. They look like kind eyes. His floppy haircut curls up at his ears, giving him a youthful appearance but you’d guess his age was close to thirty. He seems quiet. He seems safe. You hope you’re not fucking wrong about this one.

“I can take you there,” you squeak, sounding as meek as possible. “There’s a lot more where that came from. They’d let us stay as long as we wanted. We’d be safe there, well fed... I can help you.”

“He asked you where, cunt” Roy snaps as he moves forward, his rage restored.

“I know how to get there, it’s a day’s hike away from here. I can take-”

You feel a whoosh of air right before the crack of his bony palm hits your face. Unrestrained, you fly off the chair and land crumpled on the floor, barely catching yourself. Roy has slapped you. God, it fucking hurts. Roy steps up to you and bends over your folded frame, shouting obscenities down at you before he’s elbowed out of the way by Mike. He must have put down the jerky because he reaches out to you with both hands, practically picking you up off the floor like a child. Instinctively you grab onto his arms and once on your feet, wrap yourself around him, drawing your face into his chest.

Ignoring the pungent smell wafting off him, you lick at the wetness on your face, salty tears and metallic blood. Blood? Fuck, your lip is throbbing. You touch your tongue to your lip and the source seems to be a split in your bottom lip. That fucker has hit you twice now. You wish he’d fucking choked on that applesauce he guzzled down like he owned it. You cling to Mike even after you’ve calmed down, raising your eyes to meet his, hoping your gamble pays off.

“If you help me, Mike, I can help you,” you whisper - just loud enough so only he can hear you.

His ocean eyes scan your face, no doubt looking for hints of deception. It’s hard to trust others in this world, you know that better than anyone. He looks for long enough that you hear Roy call out ‘what’s she sayin’?’ over his shoulder. He looks back at Roy, then over to his sister, and then back at you. He nods his head.

🖤

I miss you Iris 💐 Thank you for helping with this series. Thank you so much to my bestie Bug for helping me edit this. ILYSM.

🚨GOING FORWARD I WILL NOT BE USING TAG LISTS - THEY DON'T EVEN WORK HALF THE TIME. PLEASE FOLLOW AND TURN ON NOTIFS FOR @nox-notifs AS I WILL POST *FIC UPDATES ONLY* THERE.🚨

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh @elegantduckturtle @koshkaj-blog @vickie5446 @lilipads @blvckmvgicwoman

#devotion series #cult leader joel miller #noxturnalpascal #ofc!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

146 notes · View notes