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theetherealbloom · 1 year

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UNEVEN ODDS - CH. 7

Chapter Seven: Let's Stay the Course and Let the Tension Make Us New

Summary: The Reader is dragged into the Last of Us universe and has no choice but to watch the events unfold or will she be able to change what was already written?

Paring: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Age-gap Romance, Violence, ANGST, LOTS OF ANGST IM SORRY, TW: Sexual Assault, Attempted Rape, Swearing, Suicide, FLUFF, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, the pandemic, character death, INFECTED, MY SCIENCE IS WONKY, probable plot holes, rusty writing, TLOU is dark please read at your own risk!

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: HI THANK YOU, GUYS, FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT ILY SO MUCH AHHHHHH ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ This chapter is gonna merge with Episodes 7 & 8 hORRAY— Lowkey had to turn to the game for a bit to figure out how I wanted to write this chapter hehe. Please note this chapter is a little bit more serious and heavy than usual. The names used here are fictional and I have no intent to post this chapter to glorify any form of harm. Rape and sexual assault will always be serious topics and should never be taken lightly. This is your final warning to read at your own risk and I am not responsible for any media you consume, dear reader, you have a responsibility and choice as to what content you read, and I urge you to never blame authors for that. As always, the end notes will have the outline of my thoughts if you wanted to read what my thought process was. ANYWAYS ENJOY! GOGOGOGOGOGOGO!

Song: Would've, Could've, Should've by Taylor Swift

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TLOU WORLD 2023

ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO – EARLY MORNING

Snowflakes fell from the pale clouds, chilly sky as a crisp wind weaved through the buildings. The bitterness of winter, whalebone-white snow presented itself as an infinite blanket. The gravel-grey skies were bare, and the only sound you could occasionally hear was Joel’s uneven breathing. You had told her to leave you. Ellie didn’t accept that, she couldn’t bear the thought of losing either of you. She dragged both of your bodies next to each other on top of his sleeping bag, strapping and securing you together with rope as she rides her horse into the suburbs, dragging the reigns of your horse.

You managed to close your eyes for a bit, your vision getting a little blurry, and everything seems hazy, you hear the shattering of glass and when you open them again, you are now inside someone’s long-forgotten home. The garage is soaked with blood, and your horse shakes off snow from his head. You and Joel are placed on an old mattress in the basement of the house, as the pain had started to sink in. Breathing becomes a chore in itself. Each breath just gets shorter and shorter, when you try to take a deep breath your body refuses to let it in, a stabbing pain each time you try. Ellie is ripping out a piece of fabric, doing her best to stop Joel’s bleeding, she curses the whole time, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Come on, you gotta help me. Come on!” While doing so, Joel grabs her hand and painfully wheezes, “Leave. Leave.” Her tone is sharp as she hisses, “Shut up, Joel.” You try and say her name, only for a painful noise to come out of your mouth, “Ellie. Please.” She shakes her head at both of you and Joel breathlessly says, “Take the gun.” Panicked, while trying to multitask as she presses another cloth to your abdomen, “Joel, shut the fuck up!”

Joel grabs her by the collar of her shirt with the remaining strength that he had to bring Ellie to look at him, he weakly says, “You go. You go. You go north. You go to Tommy. You go.” She roughly pulls away from his grasp, falling to the ground with a loud thump. You turn your head to look at Joel who was bleeding out next to you. You can see the tears rimming his eyes, and he's almost comatose. Frail, you grab his hand, squeezing it as you tenderly gaze at him.

In response, she gets up and puts his jacket over him and your own as a blanket, and both of you are almost comatose. The warmth of blankets makes him nervous, suddenly things that are known to comfort him become destructive reminders of loss. Ellie's frustrated and walks upstairs, a kid on a mission, her belief that she could fix this over time, as if every imperfection is a lie, and you watch as a tear falls from Joel’s eye. Each breath you take is agonizing, the sharp stab each time you try to let in causes you to whimper in pain. You feel Joel’s rough hands squeeze your own, still trying to shield and protect you, despite him also hurting.

You see the longing in his eyes as he faces you, and you can’t quite put your finger on it. There’s just something about his face that makes you sad, as much afraid as it’s haunted. He shakily wraps his arm around you and tries his damn hardest to put pressure on your wound even though his energy is fading. You place your head on his chest, your ear right above his faint beating heart, he winces but doesn’t push you away. Instead, he gripped you as tightly as he could, pressing a featherlight kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “Tell me somethin’ good.” You shake your head, “You growin’ soft on me Cowboy?” His eyelids feel heavy as he spoke, “Only for… you. Always you.” You feel your tears slip faintly down your cheeks, “Out of all the things I’ve researched and discovered over the years… nothing will ever compare to what I found here.” The ache in his chest expands as he inhales and says, “Birdie… I…” You shush him delicately, “I’ve never related more to anything or anyone before… I can’t explain it. You are the best thing I never planned.”

Joel shudders in the basement, his breathing becoming shallow with each breath. Wave after wave, he’s more afraid. It’s been a hard year and it’s been a high tide, but his body decides one part at a time. But what about the meantime? How do you ignore the signs that the things you love will fade or get taken away? There's something so strange about human nature, you get so used to the gifts you receive. He is watching the tears slowly continue to slip out of your eyes as he breathes lightly next to you, he still has so much he wants to tell you and still has so much to figure out. When the words came to him for the first time, he knew he was hooked on you. Your quiet charm, the way your eyes crinkled as you smiled, the calmness and chaos you carried. He wanted it all with you. Could it be, you both didn’t stand a chance? How cruel could fate be? To have found you only to lose you in a matter of days.

What was flawless canvas white, and what was kindness in your eyes, is now a blemished masterpiece. You are X-rays of something broken, made up of cold blood and bruises. You noticed your hearing started to fade. In an underwater afterimage, the hearing effect is just a bit less heavy. As time went on the underwater hearing effect started becoming more strong and you barely start hearing people. Into the darkness, you will send your symphonies. A shorthand of existence, a slowly turning key, the voyager will leave you with this modest memory of home.

You believe you’ve seen a ghost, and you don’t know who it is. It just follows you around pretending to exist. Radical acceptance sure feels like surrender, but after just a little longer, everything will make sense. Broken things will be remade, there’s some kind of heaven just around the corner and all this sorrow and agony will be replaced with unimaginable grace. With the remaining strength you had, you took in his darkly golden eyes, a smoldering visage, and warmth like home. The muffled sounds of rapid and loud footsteps from upstairs, the clattering of drawers and cabinets. You take one more breath in, the small part of you has the glimmering light of hope but the shadows keep inviting you to their clutches, and to be honest, it seems so tempting to just give in.

You hear the suppressed sound of Ellie running down to the basement, rushing to your and Joel’s side, you subconsciously wonder what took so long or if she hesitated during the process of looking through the house for supplies. You can blurrily make out the vision of Ellie holding a needle and thread, you let out a small gasp and Ellie only looks at you with worry. Your eyes flutter close, unable to help yourself to watch as she shakily stitches up Joel, he groans in pain every now and then, while you listen to your own blood dripping onto the mattress and sliding down to the concrete floor. You slowly begin to seek comfort in the ensnares of the darkness.

YOUR ORIGINAL OBSERVABLE UNIVERSE — JANUARY 13, 2023

WASHINGTON STATE UNIVERSITY, FUNDAMENTAL QUANTUM PHYSICS LAB — NIGHT

Ever since The Royal Swedish Academy of Sciences has decided to award the Nobel Prize in Physics 2022 to three scientists for experiments with entangled photons, establishing the violation of Bell inequalities and pioneering quantum information science. You were immediately intrigued by their findings and continued your own research with the given information. You sit in the dim lighting of the lab, and the glow of the screen hypnotizes you as you continue to scroll through the PDF file, text containing the explanation of quantum entanglement and the possibilities of quantum teleportation.

The mountains of paper, pencils, pens, and highlighters clutter around your large desk. You bring your arms up and stretch your lower back. Waiting for the possible outcome of the computer-generated model, a theory could change how information is sent and transmitted, including transportation. You suddenly hear your other coworker, Alisha shakily call your name, and you spin your chair around to find her disheveled state. A bruised lip, her hair in a mangled mess, and her eyes red-rimmed, you look down at her once-white lab coat to find blood at the edges. Your eyes widen in concern, “Ali, what happened to–” You didn’t even get the chance to finish, she had made her way across the room to hug you and began to cry in your arms, falling apart piece by piece. You hear her beg and whimper broken words, “Please… Please don’t let him find me… He can’t…”

You then hear the yelling voice of her partner Richard, screaming her name through the halls, and soon enough, outside your door, you try to stand and lock it but since Ali was clinging onto you, you barely got up before the man came barreling through the door. You and Ali flinch at his arrival, wearing around his father’s hand-me-down anger. Your skin crawled and your bones rattled, your muscles screamed of a horror unseen. Ali’s breathing is shortened and you feel her skin become cold, your leg and arm muscles tightened. There is a sound coming from his mouth, but nothing registers as the ringing in your ears has appeared. He marches towards you and Ali, the taste of bile rose to your mouth and you swallowed, the acid rising and burning your throat.

TLOU WORLD 2023

A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER…

ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — DAY

You wake up choking, the feeling of being smothered overwhelms your body as you try to gasp for air. Ellie is quick to your side, as you cry out in fear and pain, the awful memory of your past that you had buried, had been used against you in your sleep. You take some time to realize where you are, and Ellie is clutching your hand as you try and jerk forward, “Hey… Birdie… shhh… you’re okay,” she said as she gently pushes you down next to Joel. You shiver and whimper, “Ellie…” She shushes you again and lets you drink from a glass of water, you painfully gulp it down, and she gets you to try and eat a bit of food from the rations, you brought with you. Dizzily, you chew and swallow whatever you could, urging yourself not to puke on the teen.

You turn your head back to Joel, who was shivering, and barely conscious, you weakly speak to Ellie, “Can you… please lift his shirt for me?” The young girl shifts to Joel’s side, doing what she was asked of, the sickly sound of blood that clings onto his flannel has your eyes looking down at the yellow puss seeping from the now closed and stitched-up wound. To put it plainly, everything fucking hurt. You wince as you bring your shirt up to check your abdomen, finding that it had also been patched up and luckily not as infected as Joel’s. You bring your shirt down and watch Ellie take care of Joel, tucking him back in his blanket, and giving him water and a bit of food left placed on top of his blanket. You hoarsely say, “We need an antibiotic for his wound. Are there any in the drawers upstairs? In the medicine cabinet… maybe?” Then teen shakes her head, “No, I checked everything.” You cough a little, before giving her a small nod.

Ellie looks at the rifle leaning against the wall, and you hear her whisper to you both, “I’m gonna be right back… okay?” You try and call for her, but she doesn’t stop preparing her things, too focused on trying to get you and Joel better and moving. Her footsteps sound heavy as she makes her way upstairs while carrying the heavy rifle on one shoulder, you shudder as if you were seconds from breaking down from the orbit, gravity throws you down. She will discover that life will knock you down and wait for you to stand back up before kicking you in the stomach. But, the only way to make your lungs remember how much they relish the flavor of air is to knock you out completely. Underneath, there is hurt that cannot be soothed by poetry or bandages. Because no matter how wide you stretch your fingers, your hands will always be too small to catch all the pain you want to heal. You weakly grab Joel’s hand from underneath the green and white plaid blanket, squeezing it as you shakily say, “I don’t know if you can hear me… but if you can… Joel, you were good to me. If you're wondering why I've stayed—and for all I know, I'll stay—the truth is because the stars told me to.”

A COUPLE OF HOURS LATER…

ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — SUNSET

You weren’t sure how long you slept, or how long Ellie had been gone. But you stir to the sound of Ellie’s footsteps running down the wooden creaking stairs. You blink your eyes open, She unzips her jacket and lays the rifle next to Joel, and pulls out a wrapped pouch. You hear the bottles clink as she unwraps them, and she tells you it’s penicillin, she then looks at you shaking your head, “Give it to Joel first.” Ellie sniffs and nods, peeling back the blanket that covers his pale body, you murmur out instructions, “Hold the syringe in your hand like a pencil, with the needle pointed up.” She does as she is told and you continue to guide her through it, “With the cap still on, pull back the plunger to the line on your syringe for your dose. Keep the syringe tip in the medicine. Tap the syringe with your finger to move air bubbles to the top. Then push gently on the plunger to push the air bubbles back into the vial.” As if she was an expert, she does everything perfectly, but she begins to panic about where she would administer the penicillin, “Okay, the fuck do I put this, Birdie?” You exhale in pain but keep going, “Do not inject it into a vein. You need to administer it on a large muscle, either his back or his thigh.” Ellie exclaims, “I am not pulling down his pants!” You wince at her sudden yelling, and she’s quick to apologize, you groggily get up, everything was spinning but you needed to help her. You tell her, “Okay, turn around.” She does so, still holding the needle for you as you unbuckle his belt and carefully undress him, he groans and you try your best to ignore it. You focus on the task at hand, bringing his jeans down enough to see a portion of his thigh, “Do we have any… alcohol?” You ask and Ellie hands you Joel’s metal flask, your mouth forms a frown but you unscrew the cap and pouring a tiny amount of the vodka as an antiseptic, cleaning it off with the only clean rag left in your bag.

You ask for the needle from Ellie and she hands it to you. Your heart is racing, but you manage to inject him with the required amount of penicillin, you hear Joel sigh with a mix of pain and relief. You redress him quickly and mention to Ellie it’s safe to look again, she turns to see you sitting on the mattress again, watching Joel fall back asleep. You yawn in exhaustion, drearily blinking as you try and center yourself. Ellie says your name and you tiredly bring your eyes to her as she says, “There’s another needle if you wanted to…”

You nodded gratefully and followed the same procedure as before, Ellie turns around as you undressed a part of your jeans, quick to the point of just stabbing the needle into your thigh to get it over with, gritting your teeth as you pushed the plunger down, feeling the antibiotic entering in your system. You zip back up and lean back into the mattress, Ellie hearing you shift causes her to turn around again, and you gently pat the middle of the bed, indicating for her to lay down and rest. She is snug in the middle of you and Joel, her tiny arms wrapped around him, with you kissing the top of her head. Joel leans into her touch, resting his head above hers, and quietly breathes. Your tired eyes slowly close shut and allow yourself the comfort of the people around you.

ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — MORNING

As thin as air and as light as snow. The sunlight streaming through the basement window causes you to stir awake once more, Ellie is sitting up in between you and Joel, and she asks, “Do you have to inject him again?” Tiredly, you nod and carefully push yourself up, raising a hand to his forehead to check his temperature. You lift a portion of the shirt while Ellie watches you move skillfully, you sigh in relief as you inspect the injury and the wound already looks slightly better and then you lift your own shirt to see your own abdomen healing as well, you look up to Ellie who tearily laughs, “Thank fucking God.” As you prepare to administer another dose of penicillin, Ellie puts on her jacket and beanie, “I’m gonna go outside and feed the horses, I’ll be back.” You smile, “Please be careful.” She nods and is quick to run up the steps, and you undress Joel once more to inject the antibiotic into his thigh. You place him back into his jeans and place the blanket over him again, wiping away the sweat from his brows as you try and catch your breath. You then let your hand slide down, cupping his cheek tenderly, “Come back to us, Joel. Please, we still need you.” Kissing his head and then laying down to rest next to him, allowing your body to melt with his, the past two days have drained most of your reserved energy, you drift off into a deep slumber.

The crows caw violently as they fly away from the approaching danger, the leaves shake and swirl all around and Ellie is quick to investigate. She hugs the fence and crouches down to see David and his men quickly approaching, searching for Ellie and her two guardians. She curses and dashes back to the house, her boots heavily thudding against the wooden steps down to the basement, she first tries to wake you, but you don’t even stir, you have no more energy to give, each part of you spent trying to care for both of them and barely trying to keep yourself alive. Ellie panics and turns to Joel, shaking and yelling at him, “Joel! Joel, wake up. Joel, wake the fuck up, Joel.”

Ellie moves away to unsheath the knife from his bag and Joel forces his eyes open, she moves back to place the large blade on his chest, grabbing his hand so he could hold it, saying, “Okay, okay, look at me. There are men coming, okay? Birdie isn’t waking up and she’s probably exhausted from all of this. I’m gonna lead them away from you two but if anybody makes it down here, you fucking kill them. You got it?” He does reply, still barely conscious and Ellie snaps her fingers at him, “Joel. Joel, do not fall asleep. She needs you to keep her safe. I need you to keep her safe. Do not fall asleep.”

There isn’t enough time to form a reply to Ellie, she instantly bolts up the steps, placing a large cabinet to block and conceal the basement entrance. His eyes close once more, like a final puzzle piece, It all makes perfect sense to him. The heaviness that he holds in his heart's been crushing him.

ABANDONED SUBURBAN HOUSE, COLORADO — DAY

Joel hears the sound of footsteps from above, each thud causing him to jolt awake from his slumber, he tilts his head to find your beautiful figure stirring, as if your body senses the danger. He pushes himself up from the mattress, having one mission in mind, keeping you safe and alive. He shushes you, kissing away the lines on your forehead, and slowly they disappear. He hears the cabinet being moved, and quickly hides his figure, not enough time or strength yet to hide you as he limps to hide in the shadows.

The sound of floorboards creaks with each step the intruder takes, slowly approaching the landing of the staircase. He sees your resting figure deep asleep and quickly glances around the basement to see if the man who killed his friend was here. This was the moment Joel wished he was younger, quicker, and not in the worst fucking physical pain he has ever felt. The man approaches you, eyes glinting with starvation as he licks his lips, he dives onto you, nailed your wrists to the mattress, and covers your mouth as you screamed awake, shrieking and kicking, screaming for Joel. Your voice threw itself over the edge of your throat and landed at the bottom of your belly. The same way Richard did that night, you cry loudly as you continue to kick and struggle through the flashbacks of the past you had buried.

The sound of screaming from Ali haunts your mind as you hit Richard with all of your strength, he covers your mouth and you bite it fiercely, he curses and spits at you, “You fucking bitch. Come here.” You kneed him, hard, in the genitals, he folds over and you crawl over to the toolboxes on the table above you, he grabs your ankle and drags you back to him.

You were fighting harder than before. The guy is removing his belt and pulling down his pants. You can barely contain your cries, a bird with a broken wing. You didn’t know when your being and body became something that took up too much space.

You kick him with your other foot again, using your fingernails and clawing his face and skin. This catches him off guard, releasing your ankle, you take the opportunity to grab a metal wrench, swing at him, and walloped him on the head, repeatedly, the crunch of his skull as you hack into him with every pent-up rage you had harbored over the years. Your anger often melts into sadness, it will just disintegrate into shame or fear, and your clenched teeth release into chatter. But he has found the right mix of arrogance and abuse. Telling you again how you are just not understanding the point, reminding you how he is an expert, touching your knee, thigh, and lower back, ignoring you twice, three times, continuing to talk over your screams and plea to stop. Some of us are born chasing disaster. From the moment you entered this world, screaming, you are looking for lightning, the raw of your body, always searching for clever hands.

Joel appears from the shadows, every fiber, every vein, pumping him full of adrenaline, and pure raw rage you have never seen before from him. His eyes were a deep rich black, and his eyebrows were pulled so close together, the lines on his forehead were so prominent as if they were canals and channels of rivers. He pulls the man off of your shaking body, and stabs the man from behind, hitting a part of his neck of the predator, he begins to struggle and you push yourself away from the fight, your back hitting the wall and trying to calm down to no avail. By the time the man has passed out, Joel rolls over to his side, pushing himself up and crawling to you.

When Joel makes it to your scared and confused figure, at first you try punching and kicking at him too, still in survival mode. But he manages to grab you and is desperately hauling you to his chest, one hand cradling your head, the other wrapped around your waist as you loudly wail and dry heave, he rocks your bodies back and forth and strokes your head, trying to soothe your hysteria, “I’m so sorry darlin’, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, my sweet hummin’ bird. Shh, I’m here. I’m so, so, sorry. I’m right here.”

You were sitting at the back of an ambulance vehicle, a blanket placed over you, the flashing lights and sirens blending together with the occasional radio chatter from an officer. The blood on your hands had dried and stuck to your skin, across from you Ali was giving her statement on what had happened as an EMT continued to check over you, finding bruises on every part of your body. Strangely enough, you felt numb, there was no ounce of guilt or remorse for what had occurred and transpired. You look up at the officer, his pity radiates off of him, and you barely hear him ask for your statement only for the EMT to shoo him off, telling him to come back later, you were still in shock.

You slowly raise your chin, eyes dancing at the sight of the commotion. Like blueprints constantly being rearranged, over microscopes you plan and strain. But every sighting is proof and every heartbeat proves it too.

When it hurts too much, you might fall in love with someone with only one touch. The light shines brightest in the darkest places. Even if truth weighs more than fiction, gravity lifts as the projectionist rolls the tape and you become brave once more. You persevered despite the dangers and never-ending tight escapes, and you are still alive. Nobody will ever be able to comprehend the struggles you had to go through inside just to recover, just to develop, to get to where you are now. Be proud of yourself for battling to save yourself. Be proud of how you managed to survive.

THE ABANDONED SUBURBS, COLORADO — DAY

Joel eventually manages to calm you down, centering you, he tells you, “Darlin’, we need to find Ellie. Okay? You have to continue being brave for me, okay? Can you do that?” He wipes away your tears as you nod, he kisses your forehead and holds your face gently, “There’s my girl. C’mon.” He gets the both of you to stand, and you both drag the man up the steps, not caring if he would sometimes groan in pain. You didn’t have a very violent side, it takes a lot to push you to your limits, but when it does burst out of you, it happens in one go, and it is a blur each time you lash out.

The rattling of the branches causes your ears to perk up in alertness, and Joel lets the predator thump loudly upon the cold snow on purpose. Joel asks you to hide behind the shed, wanting to take care of the other man himself. You hear a voice call out, “Timothy?” And you spot the second raider walking through the broken fence, taking the bait as he spots who you now know as Timothy struggling face down on the crisp white snow, “Oh, shit.” He kneels on the ground to try and help his friend, but Joel comes at him with a force so strong as he hits the man on the head with the butt of the rifle, he falls to the ground instantly and becomes unconscious.

Both of you work together to prop the both of them up into the house, taping both of them with duct tape, and Joel needs to do the rest of the work out of guilt and shame, forcing you to wait down on the steps of the basement. You hear him beating the shit out of Timothy, and he wails in pain with every strike, “Stop, stop. Please.” Your lips form a line and hug your body as you decide to quietly walk up the steps, peeking at the sight.

Your mouth parts open, watching Joel’s violence happen in front of you in real-time. A satisfying crunch could be heard with each punch Joel throws at your assailant, you take a good long look at your man, and can’t help the way your breathing quickened at the thought of him protecting you and trying to save Ellie from these bastards. There is no evil in Joel’s eye, just pure focus and exhaustion. You hear the other voice beg, “Leave him alone.” To which Joel roughly replies, “You’re next.” He pulls out the knife from his back pocket and Timothy begs, “Please, I don’t know any girl.” Joel stabs him in the knee and he yells in pain, “Oh, fuck!” And the other attacker exclaims, “Jesus!” You feel goosebumps rise from every portion of your skin and try to steady your breathing once more. Timothy calls for his friend, “Marco!” And Joel grabs Timothy by his hair, roughly pulling it to get him to look at the man you cared for, his voice drops lower, “No, no, no. He can’t help you. You focus right here. Or I’ll pop your fuckin’ kneecap off.”

If Joel asked you anything in that tone, you would do anything in a heartbeat. You smile knowingly but quickly shake your head at those thoughts, needing to find Ellie. “She’s alive,” Timothy says as he is dripping in blood and the taste of copper buzzes in the air. Joel shakes his head as he asks, “Where?” Timothy doesn’t immediately respond to which Joel twists the knife impaled in his knee, and he begins to cry in pain, “Fuck! Fuck! The town!” Joel's voice booms so loudly, you watch as his spit flies in the air, the room felt like it was shaking and every part of your body felt the vibrations as he yelled, “What town?!” Timothy pants in fear and pain, “Silver Lake.” Joel pushes his head backward and cries out in ache.

Joel pulls out the map from his back pocket and unfolds it, Timothy begins to stumble over his words as he spoke, “It’s not a real town name. It’s a resort.” Joel’s eyes narrow, “A resort?” Then he quickly pulls the knife from his kneecap, the blood squirting out as he does, Timothy is crying out again but your eyes only watch how efficiently Joel moves. He stands and shoves the handle of the knife into Timothy’s mouth, and your posture shifts, you are now blinking wildly at his actions, and the unexpected rush of heat flows in every direction of your body, you swallow in anticipation.

Joel’s voice is gruff and grave as he instructs him, “You’re gonna point to where we are and where you’re ‘resort’ is. And it better be the exact same spot your buddy points to.” Timothy cries as he nods and the muffled sound of his reply, ”Okay.” He does as he is told, his blood becoming the markers of where you are and where you were now heading. Timothy drops the knife from his mouth, letting it fall to his lap, “That’s where we are. I swear.” Joel falls to his knees as he takes in the information, looking down directly at the map and then his hard gaze looks up as Timothy continues to beg, “Go ask him. He’ll tell you. I’m not lying.” There is no moment to react as Joel takes the knife, stands up, and stabs him right through the chest, he wails and screams, and you inadvertently flinch in shock, Joel twists the knife, letting his anger take over. Marco cries out to Joel, “No, No! Shit! Jesus! No! Why the fuck would you do that?! He told you what you wanted!”

Joel walks over to the chair on the side and grabs the rusty metal pipe atop it. The man you have journeyed with, kissed, and cared for is now pushed to his limits. He is tall and domineering over Marco as he squirms and curses at him, “You motherfucker. Fuck you. I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” Joel nods, his voice as bold as whiskey, deep and rich, “You see that woman over there by the corner, watchin’? That’s my girl. Your buddy over there was gon’ touch what is mine. And no one fuckin’ touches anythin’ that’s mine.”

Your eyebrows raise and your breathing lazily declines, as your system creates sparks and tingles all over your skin. The very sensitive part of you aches for Joel, and you allow yourself to lust over him. He claimed you right here, you are his girl, and anyone who hurts you would pay the price. A brutal and torturous death.

“And you know what, it’s okay. I believe him.” Joel said, and raises the pipe and Marco begs, “No, no. No!” The crunching sound of his skull being pried open, Joel using every bit of muscle and strength as he beats him to his death, blood splatters on the wall and the floor, he lets out his rage, and you enjoy every bit of violence that he exhibits right now, knowing he would never hurt you, just the people who threatened you and Ellie’s safety.

By the time Joel drops the pipe to the ground, you are no longer peeking around the corner, you are visibly standing a few feet away behind him, as his broad shoulders rise and fall from his heavy breathing. You are well aware of the shadows in your heart, but you want to feel tectonic shifts and as he turns to face you, he sees the wide-eyed beautiful woman he has given his heart to, not a single bit afraid, yet he can’t help but ask, “So you know all about me?” You nod, “Yes.” He questions, “And you still want me?” You close the distance between the both of you, gently cupping the side of his face. There is no hesitation in your response, “I want you all the more.”

You pack what you can and trek through the snow, the blizzard, and the wind is harsh and colder, you and Joel stumble about but keep pushing on, trying to get to Ellie on time. Joel holds your hand in his, guiding you to the resort on the map, he clutches a stone pillar of an establishment, and you tug his sleeve as you spot the trail of blood staining the icy snow. You and he follow the bloody path and break into the locked door that the trail leads to with the butt of his rifle, ushering you inside and then slamming the large wooden door shut. You and Joel catch your breath, and turn on your flashlights, letting them shine through the dark. You both have your guns drawn at the ready, inspecting the building, Joel crouches down to the bottom shelf, finding Ellie’s pack. You walk deeper into the dark house, following the trail of blood, and pushing past the doors. He finds both of your horses inside, the room and you blink away the tears as you continue to try and be brave. You tiredly bring your flashlight up to hear the weird creaky noise from behind the canoes, you feel Joel behind you as he also points his flashlight to a gruesome sight.

Every step you took was a confirmation, needing to reassure yourself that this was actually in front of you, you had known there was a character named David who was a cannibal but were not fully aware when that would happen or if it would even occur. You cannot utter the careful words that you needed, you could barely speak out loud. Your heart pounded, your head spun and your eyes saw the three human bodies tied up by their ankles without any heads. It took everything in you not to throw up right there, feeling the reflex crawl up your throat, holding back from gagging at the sight in disgust. Joel stands there speechless as he stares at the dangling corpses, you reach for his hand for comfort, and he squeezes your own as you shakily breathe in and out.

You both exit the building, and point your nose up in the air, smelling for smoke so you can follow the trail back to a burning house. You and Joel rush to the source of the grey clouds of smoke and hear the loud door opening, Ellie’s shaken figure dazedly walking away from the scene. Joel swiftly catches up to the teen and grabs her from behind, which causes Ellie to go back into fight mode, she kicks and screams, “No! Get off of me!” She squirms in his arms, screaming and begging, “Get off!” Joel turns her around, and it takes her a bit to calm down and realize it’s you and Joel, “It’s me.” Joel says and Ellie falls to her knees crying, and punching him. He holds Ellie’s head in her hand, saying, “It’s me. Hey, look. It’s me. It’s me. It’s okay.” And Ellie almost can’t speak, as she hugs him, finally feeling safe. At this moment, Joel says, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you.”

Though not the promised land, nor any perfect plan along your neutral path, there was a single lowered branch. Your ears are ringing at the slightest sound. Like a huge piano descending a million stairs slowly. The noises it produces, however, are only the growing pains of mending. You bring your arms around Ellie, and as the three of you hug, every wrong will be made right, what was adamant, even permanent will have a change of heart and mind. In your disbelief, you'll clear your eyes as if you're seeing light for the very first time. Joel pulls away quickly to remove his jacket to place it over Ellie, holding his backpack in his other hand. The three of you walk away from the smell of smoke, miles away, clutching each other afraid and vulnerable, three panicked souls in the cold, for now, the dissonance disappears.

END NOTES

HORRAY VIOLENCE! (this is a joke- do I need to explain that-) I know, I KNOW THE CHAPTER IS SOOO SHORT PLS THERE WERENT ENOUGH SCENES CALMMMM IM JUST AS SAD but there is only so much I can dOOooo Many songs, quotes, and poems inspired me for this chapter HNGGG THESE WERE VERY VERY exPLICIT AND vIOLENT scenes to write and convey. Some parts of the story were taken from experiences I personally had by literally existing as a woman. The feeling of being unsafe and being taken advantage of is a sad and harsh reality of this world. YAY FOR TAKING CARE OF JOEL AND GUIDING ELLIE… EVEN THOUGH MF UR STILL INJURED TOO GIRL CHILLLLL RIP HORSEY NOOOOOOOO At first, when I was writing this chapter for both Episodes 7 and 8, I was like, “Fuck, maybe I made a wrong call, Birdie shouldn’t have gotten hurt and should’ve got captured with Ellie.” And then I sat and thought about that for a good 3 hours, and realized that it would be a huge mistake, because Ellie and Joel still needed their resolve, meaning Ellie had to survive on her own for a while. Because there will be times when adults can’t always protect or shield their child from inevitable pain or problems. And essentially, you and Joel already had your own moment last chapter tehe David had it comin’ and only had hiMSELF TO BLAMEEEEE FUCK YOU CREEP, PREDATOR, ABUSER, STINKY MF MAN, YOU GOT WHAT YOU DESERVED yEaHHHH GET HIM ELLIE! Bella Ramsy shrieking as she drives the knife into his chest multiple times, and then her last note faltering at the end, absolutely shattered every bit of my being, I love her, she’s so fucking talented, 5/5 stars cast mwah <;3 The way I would give literally anYTHING TO BE HUGGED BY PEDRO LIKE THAT IN COMFORT T^T damn aGHHHH hORRAY MORE PARARALALALLELS WITH YOU AND ELLIE! Fighting for your life and your friend's life in that lab, at this point the school should pay for your therapy bill lol fUCK U RICHARD Also, it’s important to note, the night in that lab was a highly traumatic experience for Birdie, so she essentially froze a tiny bit when she felt like it was happening again. feel free to send me an ask if you have any kweschons, quonserns or klarifiqaystions :> - Grace

TAGLIST:

@memento-mora @elijahssuit @tartiflvtte @lillylilly2 @kyuupidwrites @amethystwonder11 @syd-vixious @kidkrow666 @soulofapatrick @ponyboys-sunsets @superflymaterial @chaotic-imposter @vainbimbo @eva-stark @loki-an-idiot @littleshadow17 @undermoonlightwalk @afternoon-evening @notmysunnydale @slurmp69 @gyllord @aerangi @mac5323 @friskynotebook @earth-to-lottie @chaotic-imposter @kodzuvk @hawkins-2000 @reallysparklychaos @trust-dreamcatcher @darkened-writer @memeorydotcom @welcomebackfelicia @rainbowpitofdoom @omg-its-typical-aesthetics-fan @marvelsimpcz @dorck26 @evienorville @munsons-queen @little-miss-bi @mxltifxnd0m @ohjoelmiller @coalix @taestrwbrry @avengersheart @gyllord @valentine-babe@missdragon-1 @ponyboys-sunsets @ipadkidsworld @otternanamilolo @issybee0611 @technicallysassyfox @cupcakemachete @manuchyy @darkened-writer @andyrazzledazzle @glossythor @virtueassassin @witchy-jadda @imonmykneessir @norr1e @mando-bix @thicficbich1 @adoringanakin @lalla-04p @reallysparklychaos @hollywoodmariposa

#joel miller masterlist #joel miller x reader #joelmiller #joel miller series #joel miller x poc!reader #ethereal uneven odds qna #unevenoddstaglist #uneven odds joel miller #unevenodds #uneven odds #alternate universe #joel miller x reader au #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader tlou #joel miller x modern reader #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller hbo

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squoxle · 2 months

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Hiiii sisisssyysysyys! I was wondering if you do a hee ff and it’s just y/n and him. I want the plot to be like a late night of the streets in nyc. And you can do whatever you want 😊

Girl 😩 I apologize in advance if the story is kinda wonky…I really wanted to make this for u ASAP…but I’ve just been sooooo busy 😭❤️ anywayzzz I hope u like it

❝𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐈𝐧 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬❞ ~ 𝐋.𝐇𝐒

•♥☙♡ ʚɞ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʜᴇᴇ𝖲ᴇᴜɴɢ!ʙᴇ𝖲ᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ 𝖷 ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ғᴍ | ʚɞ ᴡᴄ: 𝟫𝟨𝟢 | ʚɞ 𝖲ᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇ𝖲ᴛ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғᴇ𝖲𝖲ᴇ𝖲 ʜɪ𝖲 ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴇᴡ ʏᴏʀᴋ 𝖲ᴋʏ | ʚɞ ᴄᴡ: ᴀɴɢ𝖲ᴛ, ғʟᴜғғ, ᴍɪɴᴏʀ 𝖲ᴍᴜᴛ (ᴀ.ᴋ.ᴀ. ᴋɪ𝖲𝖲ɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ 𝖲ʟɪɢʜᴛ ғᴏɴᴅʟɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ) ♡❧♥•

Heeseung held your gaze as if he were frozen in time and space. The sexual tension burned like firey flames from your hearts. But nothing could have prepared you for this moment.

The moment when his delicate lips would meet yours.

The moment your lives would change forever...

. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝒶𝓎...

Heeseung had called you the night before to make plans for today.

"There's something I want to talk to you about," he whispered softly, "In person..." his words trailed off.

What could be so important that he couldn't just tell you over the phone. Heeseung rarely blew things out of proportion, which left you curious. Wondering what he wanted to talk about.

Somehow you managed to tuck your curiosity away in the deepest part of your mind for the majority of the day as the two of you hung out together. Though you couldn't deny the fact that he had done a great job keeping you distracted.

"Hey, what do you think about this?" he giggled as he turned around to show you a pair of oversized glasses.

"I think you look like a clown," you chuckled back, watching as a bright smile grew across his face.

"Him, you're right. Maybe they'd look better on you," he said as he walked closer to you, placing the glasses on your face. His expression softened as you adjusted the glasses yourself.

"I probably look even dumber than you," you scoffed lightly, pulling your lips into a slight smirk. You watched as Heeseung's eyes followed your movements. "Uhh..." you started, cutting through the silence. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm just a little hungry. How about we go get something to eat?" He asked.

"Sure, what're you in the mood for?"

"Pizza?"

"Wow! I'm surprised you didn't say ramen," you said in an attempt to keep the conversation going.

"Well, I only like it when I make it," he smiled. "It's not like I can really make my own pizza," he chuckled as the two of you walked off.

. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔...

After sunset, you and Heeseung walked across Brooklyn Bridge. You loved how it lit up at night, the lights mimicking the stars in the sky that were harder to see out here.

Heeseung knew how much you loved stargazing, but couldn't do it anymore after relocating to such a big city. The sense of longing washed over you as you walked across the metallic structure.

"What?" you asked as you felt Heeseung's gaze on you.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about something."

"Does it have anything to do with that thing you wanted to tell me last night?" your question hung in the air for a bit before Heeseung let out a sigh.

"Uhh...yeah, but I'd rather talk about it in private," he said as the two of continued your walk across the bridge before entering Cadman Plaza Park.

The air was cool and moist, and the streetlights highlighted small puddles of water that pooled near the botanical arrangements. At this point, you had just noticed that Heeseung was holding your hand.

You walked with him under a set of trees, away from the other few people who were also enjoying a night walk in New York.

You lied down in the grass next to Heeseung as you peaked through the tree branches to see the night sky bleeding through.

"____..."

"Yeah?"

"You know that thing I wanted to tell you?" He rolled onto his side to face you, propping his body up on his elbow.

You waited patiently for him to speak, as you could see his shy side coming out. He bit his lip softly before continuing.

"I-I don't want this to ruin our friendship or anything, but," he paused, playing with the grass between his fingers. "I really like you...and I have for a long time."

To be honest, you had liked Heeseung from the beginning, but you settled for a friendship rather than a relationship and you still didn’t know why.

He looked embarrassed as hell. You took a little too long to respond, leaving an uncomfortable amount of silence in the atmosphere.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Just forget I said anything,” he continued before lying down on his back, closing his eyes after taking a deep breath.

A thought crossed your mind and you weren’t gonna be stupid enough to let it pass by. You leaned over to kiss Heeseung’s lips.

His cheeks were slightly red his doe eyes jumped open when you placed your hand on his chest. “I like you too, and I have for a long time now,” you smiled.

His lips formed into a smile as he pulled your face into his, kissing you again. You straddled his body as he gripped onto your waist, pulling your body closer to his. You slowly rocked back and forth, feeling him grow harder beneath you.

Though you had just started, the sexual tension was strong now and your movements excited him. It was obvious by the way he sat up and breathlessly gasped for your touch.

Your tongues intertwining as he moved down to your neck. “Maybe we should continue this somewhere else,” he chuckled softly against the wetness on your neck as you reached to palm his bulge.

“Yeah, you’re probably right about that,” you said looking at his flushed face and ruffled hair. “Would it be weird if I said you look hotter with your hair like this,” you smirked.

“Not weird, but definitely enticing. Makes me wonder what you would look like all flustered and messy,” he said before kissing your lips again.

. : ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝒹…

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisdubblchococake @wonbinisbabygurl @hynjinnn1 @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

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draculas-curse · 4 months

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Meta Knight loves to fight.

If there is one thing that he cannot go without, could never go without, then it is the rush of combat. The adrenaline that pours through him like a tidal wave, the fervour with which he swings his blade, it is everything; his crew, his Halberd, his duty and his homeland, in truth they all pale in importance next to the thrill of a relentless battle frenzy.

This is something that, even through shining glass, through beams of refracted light, through the crystal clear reflection of a gold-trimmed and glittering mirror, is left unfiltered. Dark Meta Knight loves to fight, because Meta Knight loves to fight. He knows this and he can accept this. It is sensible. A reflection must be accurate to the original visage, no? And if not in appearance, scarred and battered instead of immaculate and glowing, then at least in spirit there should be a perfect core that remains.

Dark Meta Knight likes to draw.

He sits in the sunlight, bathing in the warmth of his armour, surrounded by tentative allies sent for by the stars, and clutches a crayon in one fist. His dexterity is not quite as incredible with an implement of the arts as it is with an implement of violence. This does not matter, because when he scrawls across the paper, with too-tight grip and too-harsh force, the wonky lines he manages do not garner him any jeering. Instead, the fairy oohs and aahs over how passionately he's recreated his sword, and politely, the little artist advises him on how to put less strain on both himself and the crayon the next time he tries. Dark Meta Knight does not mind imperfections, really.

Meta Knight does not like to draw. He avoids picking up a pen or pencil whenever possible, and when he is forced to, he makes the experience quick. If Dark Meta Knight is so bold as to assume why, and he is, this is because Meta Knight is not good at drawing. Of course, neither is he. Not by a professional metric. Flawless swordsmen, but terrible illustrators. The reflection is accurate once again. However, Meta Knight cannot bear imperfections. He is always on a quest of improvement, and avoids that which he is not undefeated in. If his armour breaks, is marked, if he loses a chip off his pauldron or mask, he repairs it with the utmost haste.

Perhaps a reflection is similar, but not exact. Sometimes the mirror is smudged, or cracked. Sometimes it reflects backwards or sideways. Sometimes water will ripple across the clear lake. Dark Meta Knight can and has defeated Meta Knight. If he were truly a complete, perfect reflection, they would be too evenly matched for a victor. There are a million little other flaws. Meta Knight likes the idea of fairness, Dark Meta Knight doesn't bother with it. Meta Knight is perhaps slightly more upstanding than he, less inclined to villainy; though only slightly, Dark Meta Knight thinks, remembering through a cloudy lens how the Halberd once sank into the orange sea. In the end, the dark knight couldn't care much less. He is glad when the next time he sketches out the image of his weapon, the edges are a little more clean.

Meta Knight probably wishes for a true, unfiltered reflection, with no idiosyncrasies of its own. Dark Meta Knight doesn't see why he should seethe over minor details that get lost where the light misses crevices in the glass. Then again, he might just be spiteful because Dark Meta Knight trapped him in the shards of that very same mirror to see what it would be like on the other side of it. That would be a bit fairer, and Meta Knight likes to be fair.

But Meta Knight really, really loves to fight, more than anything else.

Dark Meta Knight puts the crayon down for now, nods when his fellows wave him goodbye, and turns to meet the yellow gaze burning holes into his back, brandishing his silver sword. Dark Meta Knight also really, really loves to fight, more than he likes to draw.

For the record, even if he won't go mad over it, Dark Meta Knight also still very much likes to win.

#kirby ficlet #kirby series #dark meta knight #meta knight #its 4 am :D

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xxsabitoxx · 10 months

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Merlot 🍷

CEO Shinobu x AFAB! Assistant Reader

Warning: public sex, finger fucking, alcohol consumption, cunnilingus, bathroom sex, squirting, sadistic Shinobu / Dom Shinobu

A/N: a last minute pride fic, since June was a wonky month for me lol. Regardless, we’re queer year round on this blog and I have plenty of WLW ideas. This fic was honestly self indulgent lmfaooo 🥴

Word count: 3.1k

The red wine in your glass creates a bubbling sense of warmth in your body every time you take a sip. Your cheeks feel warm, your legs feel heavy, as if you’d never want to move ever again. You’re only half paying attention to whatever the man before you kms droning on about. Some sort of business proposal for the Kocho Family Pharmaceutical company. You can tell by the way your boss is sitting beside you, she’s not interested at all.

Kocho Shinobu, the youngest daughter of the Kocho family and also the heir to her father’s company. Her older sister, Kanae, respectfully declined her “birth right” and passed the heir title on to a more than willing Shinobu. You swirl your wine glass, bringing the contents to your lips and hoping it will eventually dull the insistent blabbering. You glance sideways at Shinobu, a similar wine glass sits before her on the table, but her hands are resting on her lap, leaving the contents untouched.

You let your eyes wander a bit lower, focusing on her chest. How shameless of you, you nearly chuckle as you pull your eyes away to look at the man once more. He’s not as fun to look at as your boss is, especially when she’s wearing a low cut dress. It was deep purple, just like her eyes, just like the ends of her hair. How the man before the two of you could even focus you weren’t sure, then again you’d rather his eyes not linger on her for more than necessary. Even then, you seemed oblivious to the fact that he was focusing on you more than Shinobu.

To make it even worse, you seemed to be painfully unaware of the growing agitation from the woman beside you.

Delicately, Shinobu moved one of her hands from her lap and placed it on the leather booth below. The gap between your rights was no bigger than six inches, if Shinobu could have it differently, you’d be squished together in the booth. Curse fancy restaurants and their attention to detail. She listened to every word the man uttered, she knew within five minutes of the dinner that she wouldn’t accept his offer. Yet, it’s been an hour and she’s letting him drone on so she can sit beside you, enveloped in the perfume she gifted you.

She glances at you, she can tell you’re completely uninterested in what is being said. Shinobu’s eyes linger, trailing down the column of your neck, ghosting your shoulders and collarbone, dipping even lower to your cleavage wrapped tightly in a satin black cocktail dress. The sight makes her mouth water. She shifts focus, her hand still resting on the leather separating your thighs. She finally reached for her glass, sipping it carefully. She times herself, setting the glass down a little harsher than necessary as she moves to rest her hand on your exposed thigh.

Her plan worked, you jumped a bit as her hand made contact with you, but it was masked as you being scared by the sound of the glass hitting the table. “Oh~ don’t mind me. Continue.” She ignores the way you eye her, cheeks warm from the wine and now from the shock of her hand on you. He shrugs it off, continuing with his blabbering. Shinobu is careful, her fingers tapping idly on the flesh of your thigh. She enjoys the way it bounces slightly under her touch, it’s just as soft as she envisioned it to be, lucky her.

She’s a little less careful as she squeezes your supple flesh, watching your fingers twitch as you grab your wine glass. She’s proud of the fact that you know enough to keep your reactions to a minimum. This wouldn't be the first time she toyed with you during a business meeting, but she intended this to be the farthest she’s ever taken it. Shinobu is the mood to see how far she can go before it’s too much not only for you but for the party that is forced to sit through it. She’d fuck you right here on the table if she could, but there are too many lingering eyes for that.

Your breathing is a little more ragged, the urge to take deep breaths is nearly overwhelming as her hands creep further upwards. Shinobu doesn’t stop once she meets your dress, going as far as to pull your thigh towards her, not stopping until your knee meets her’s. You keep your eyes trained on your wine glass as her perfectly manicured fingers scratch at your inner thigh. She’s teasing you, her fingers merely inches away from your sex but she won’t touch you just yet. “So, what do you think so far?” The direct question didn’t faze Shinobu as much as it did for you.

You swallow, blinking as you force a smile onto your face and look over at your boss. For the first time since sitting down, the two of you made direct eye contact. Shinobu smiles at you, nodding. “I think we’d like to hear more from you.” You’d never guess she wasn’t interested. He seems more confident, going into another spiel about the benefits combining both companies would have. All the while, Shinobu’s fingers are kneading the flesh of your inner thigh. Your brain goes back to autopilot, tuning the man out as Shinobu toys with you.

You’re aching now, an uncomfortable wetness becoming more prominent due to the air reaching your cunt. You feel your arousal, clinging to the fabric of your panties, it’s making you squirm. You feel warm, the sticky sensation making you want to get up and run to the bathroom but Shinobu’s fingers tell you otherwise. She’s using one finger to swipe up your slit, the material pressing further into your sex and collecting more arousal. You reach for your wine glass again, sipping the nearly black looking liquid in hopes of it hiding your struggle.

The last thing you expected was for Shinobu to play with your pussy while you sat in a fancy restaurant for a business proposal.

Then again, you were pretty naive for not expecting it. She continued like that for a while, sliding her finger up and down your covered slit until she could tell your panties were soaked. You set your glass down, fingers clenching as you moved to settle them in your lap. Though it was a bit of a struggle considering Shinobu’s hand was playing between your legs. You knew better than to touch her hand or even try and move it away.

Any sort of movement on your part would immediately bring attention. So you let her do as she pleased, just as you always did.

It was nearly agony, but it seemed Shinobu was feeling generous with you. Two slender fingers dipped under your panties, making contact with your bare heat. You swallowed, throat drying up as you reached for your wine, as if the liquid would do anything to quench your thirst. She continued the same teasing motion, sliding her fingers along your slit until they were slick with your arousal. She ghosted your clit, sliding over the sensitive bud before dipping lower, prodding your entrance.

Your legs fell open just a bit more, allowing her more space to do as she wanted with you. “Sir, could you repeat that last part?” Shinobu smiled sweetly, feigning innocence as she pushed her two fingers knuckle deep into your cunt. You nearly choked, watching the man’s attention shift from you to her and repeat whatever bull shit he had just uttered. Much to Shinobu’s dismay, his eyes returned to you after he repeated his sentence. Her annoyance made itself known in the way she roughly curled her fingers. You take a shaky breath, eyes nearly watering as she rubs against a sensitive part of you. The pleasure is building as she curls her fingers and scissors you open, completely avoiding your clit.

You’re thankful for the ambience in the restaurant, or else you were positive the man sitting across from the two of you would be able to hear the slick squelch of Shinobu’s fingers working you open. It’s embarrassing, to an extent. But the idea of getting caught also has your body reacting to her touch. Shinobu pauses her thrusting, pressing up against various parts of your walls until she finds that one particular spot. She knows she’s found it when your thighs immediately tense. To make matters worse, she takes the time to massage that particular spot. She watched your hands shake as you brought the glass of wine up to your lips again.

Your breath fogs the glass, barely able to let the liquid escape the cup as she forces a soft moan out of you. Your wine glass seems to swallow it whole, though the tiny smirk on her lips tells you she heard it. You put the glass down, the lingering taste of cherry and plum making you feel parched. Slowly, the heel of Shinobu’s palm roughly massaged your throbbing clit. You knew you were a goner the moment she started, the build up in your gut felt like a dam was about to burst. You could feel sweat forming on your brow, suffocated by the environment around you as Shinobu finger fucked you at the dinner table.

“Pardon me, but is your assistant feeling alright, Miss. Kocho?” You barely process what he is saying, rather you’re trying to steady your breathing as Shinobu’s fingers never falter. “Oh! She’s fine, you’ll have to forgive her sir. After one glass of Merlot she gets a bit dazed…” Shinobu glanced at you, jaw clenching slightly when she noticed how far away you looked. Perhaps she was taking it a little too far, she failed to consider the wine you had in your system. “If it’s not too much trouble, do you mind if we run to the ladies room?” Shinobu’s fingers were still thrusting in and out of your cunt as she spoke, the heel of her palm stroking your clit.

“Oh, I see.” He chuckled softly, it sounded almost predatory. “By all means, take your time ladies.” Shinobu forced her smile, pulling her hand away from your cunt entirely. “Thank you so much.” She was motioning you out of the booth, watching as you seemed to recollect yourself pretty quick. You were nearly running to the bathroom by the time Shinobu got out of the booth. The women’s room was dimly lit, just like the rest of the establishment. Luckily the music was much louder than in the restaurant, the stalls were closed off rooms. Nobody would see nor hear you. Perfect.

“Aren’t you risky…” Shinobu purred as she guided you into one of the stalls. “M-me? You just…” you couldn’t even say it, your face warm and body aching. You had been so close to coming and she had stopped, all because that oaf noticed your dazed look. Shinobu rolled her eyes, pushing you up against the tiled wall. “My pretty girlfriend is gaining too much attention…” Shinobu cooed softly, her body flush to yours. “I don’t like it, I’m the only one allowed to look at you that way…” you’re panting, completely engulfed in her. “Girlfriend, huh?” You teased her for the title, but it sent a wave of excitement through you anyways. This was the first time she had called you her girlfriend.

“Yeah, my girlfriend. You’re mine, if you haven’t figured that out already.” She huffs softly, there was the Shinobu you knew and loved. You lean forward, kissing her deeply, your hands roaming to her hips and holding them tightly. Your tongues swirl around each other, the lingering taste of merlot wine was intoxicating. Shinobu busies herself with your dress, pushing it all the way up and revealing the lacy panties she had been feeling rather than seeing. Your hands moved lower, the intentions to do the same thing clawing at your mind. “Ah, Ah.” Shinobu pulled away, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from the kiss. “You can worry about me when we go home, back to my place I mean. We can do whatever you want when we get there.”

She chuckles softly, thumb rubbing circles on your bare hip. “For now, let me have you… I won’t be able to turn that idiot’s proposal down properly if all I can think about is you and your pretty cunt.” You nod, lips finding hers again as she tugs your underwear down to your knees. The kiss doesn’t last nearly as long as you want it to, but you can’t complain as she drops to her knees before you. Your boss…girlfriend?… was about to eat you out in the stall of a fancy restaurant’s bathroom… while a potential client was waiting patiently back at the table. “Fuck…Shinobu are you sure this is…” the words die on your lips as her tongue licks a fat stripe up your inner thigh. “A good idea? Yeah, I’m positive it is.”

She can’t stop now, not when your kiss is lingering on her lips, the taste of your wine sitting on her tongue. She glances up at you one more time before pulling your hips forward. Only your upper back is braced on the tile wall, your hands fidgeting and unsure where to go as Shinobu grips your thighs. Her nails dig into the flesh of your thighs deliciously, violet eyes roaming over your needy cunt. She doesn’t say anything as she moves forward, lips connecting with your sex as her tongue prods your slit open. You whine immediately, chest heaving as your heart races. Shinobu’s tongue focuses on your aching clit, flicking the sensitive nub until you’re mewling. She lets go of one thigh, moving her hand lower.

You’re watching her with blown out pupils, breath catching in your throat as her fingers enter you again. You let yourself trust the music, moaning loudly as she searches for that particular spot again. This time, Shinobu finds it almost immediately. “F-fuck… carefully w-with that…” your voice is weak, especially when she begins massaging that one spot. She hums, sending vibrations through you as she switches from flicking your clit to sucking on it. “S-Ah-Shinobu…” you choke, the build up in your gut has returned tenfold. “I-I’m serious… Nobu… I’m gonna make a mess.” You’re squeezing your eyes shut, embarrassed because you know what’s coming. She didn’t slow, she moved quicker.

Sweet noises tumbled from your lips as your fingers found stability on her shoulders. Your thighs trembled with effort to keep yourself upright, but you were slowly losing that battle. Shinobu’s lips continued to suck on you harshly, her fingers massaging what you assumed was your “g-spot” until it felt like you were about to burst. “S-Shinobu… please… it feels like you’re gonna make me… pee.” You squeal, face warm as you feared what was to come. Shinobu seemed to laugh, vibrating your cunt. She wanted to tell you to just let it happen, that you wouldn't actually pee, but if she stopped, she was positive she’d lose what she’s accomplished so far. She was going to ruin you, here and now.

So, she kept going, pretending not to hear your desperate pleas. You felt tears burn your eyes, pleasure making your body shake as your orgasm was dangled right in front of you. You couldn’t stop it if you wanted to, Shinobu’s relentless pace made it hard to think straight. “S-Shinobu please… I’m gonna cum…” you wailed loudly, not caring if anyone heard you at this point. Again, too occupied to properly respond, she manages to pick up her already brutal pace. You stood no chance, body convulsing as you came. You’re gasping for air, legs nearly giving out as you blink away the spots in your vision. You had barely processed the shining puddle below you.

“O-oh fuck did I…” you’re still breathing heavy, embarrassment flooding you cheeks. Shinobu pulls away from you, her lips and chin shining with your arousal. She smiles, looking smug as she brings her fingers to her lips and sucks your arousal off of them. “You didn’t pee. You squirted.” Her tone dripped with sarcasm as she uttered the word. Somehow, you felt more embarrassed about squirting. “Don’t look so scared, it’s pretty fucking hot.” She smiles down at the mess you made, some of it is still leaking down your thighs. “If I was in the mood to be nice, I’d bring you out to the car and have you wait while I turn that idiot’s proposal down…”

Shinobu moved closer, managing to avoid the mess on the floor as her body pressed flush against yours. “But I’m not in the mood to be nice…” her tone was seductive, you’d even go as far as to say it was sadistic. “I want to see you squirm, pretty girl.” Her dainty fingers reached down to tug your panties up, watching as flinch when the cold material met your heat. “You can survive a little more, right? Listen to him drone on and on while you sit in your arousal slick panties? Your pussy aching and leaking…” you swallowed, her unfiltered language had you feeling hot all over. “C’mon, use your words, pretty girl.” You blinked.

“Y-yeah…” she shook her head at your weak response. “Now, that’s no way to talk to me…” she fixed you with a stern glare, her lips hovering over yours. “Y-yes ma’am, I’ll be good and wait.” You choked out, head moving forward on its own to try and close the distance. Shinobu smiled, one that was genuine. “Good girl.” She purred softly before closing the distance for you, her teeth sinking into your lower lip so you were forced to open them. You gasped, tasting your own arousal on her tongue mixed with wine, your hand cupping her cheeks to keep her from moving away. It was your longest kiss yet, perhaps your sloppiest too. Shinobu pulled away for air a moment later.

“Now, save the rest for later. We have a long winded proposal to turn down.” She smirked, tugging your dress down and taking your hand. “Shouldn’t we…clean that…” you look down at the mess then back at Shinobu. She shook her head “don’t worry about it.” You had a funny feeling she liked seeing how embarrassing it made you, but then again, you couldn’t be mad at her for it. “Whatever you say, Miss Kocho.” Her grip on your hand tightens, eyes narrowing as she looks at you. “Call me that again and we may never leave this bathroom.” It wasn’t a threat, rather, it was a challenge. “Miss Kocho…” it was your turn to purr, smiling smugly as she shut her eyes and inhaled deeply.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

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icyblogs · 19 days

Text

flesh and bone

Winter represents many things. The start of a new season. The beginnings to an end. Or the beginnings of a new start. Years finally caught up to you, finally knowing enough to summon a creature able to fulfill things beyond your wildest imagination. So why is it that you're now finding out that everything was orchestrated from the very start? Or: A DND au where a human falls into the clutches of a fiend and his guard dog. Patron!Ghost x Fem!Reader x Warlock!Soap WC: 6.8K Based off of this thought ! [AO3] -> Next Chapter Warnings: Start of a dark fic!! Mentions of death, depression, dubcon touching, semi-graphic description of violence, paranoia, manipulation, reader has a backstory to make sense for plot! A/N: i've never written for cod before so i'm sorry if characterizations are wonky okay ty

Winter represents many things. The start of a new season. The beginnings to an end. Or the beginnings of a new start. Most often in literature they can be associated with the circle of life- many animals lay dormant in this time of year. But even still, it goes to show the fragility of life; some creatures thriving in the atmosphere while others retreat back to their homes and really remember just what they’re living for- waiting it out until the leaves sprout anew. Just as the waters of puddles and lakes crystalize into ice or the roads start to slowly become less traveled– many things come into association with this time of year.

Death, mourning, skiing- sledding. The dichotomy of moseying along something in nature that could so easily kill you. Just for a bit of adrenaline. For some thrill or interesting experiences to tell at the next person you see at a tavern, drinking and chortling over a tankard of ale. Albeit most races aren’t built to survive freezing temperatures, they sure act like they are. But some actually are of course. Goliaths with their adeptness of surviving in the mountains- up to twenty thousand feet in altitude. Some dragonborn depending on their ancestry, hailing from ancient beings that simply thrive in some of the most subzero of places in the lands. But of course.. most are not. Putting on layer upon layer to just merely survive in these conditions- unable to even thrive unless the circumstances deem worthy enough.

It is seldom worth the consequences.

The winters were frigid as always, sharp pin pricks of frost seeping into through your stagecoach’s insulation even though the artificer claimed they infused the interior with a heating cantrip. Damn swindler- “100 gold for a safe and warm journey!” It unfortunately was the price of discreteness.. but maybe if you wished hard enough the air coming through would be enough to keep you from turning into an icicle- but it provided almost an almost numbing sensation to temporarily soothe the anxiety pricking at the recesses of your mind.

Just a few more hours, just a bit more time, and everything will be perfect.

Regardless, it was a fitting evening, all things considered. The mountainous path was characteristically barren- as to be expected being so close to Midwinter. Dense fog drifts further obscuring your vision as you stare out the semi-opaque glass into the no man’s land. Trembling fingers smooth out your cloak as you straighten in your seat, the temperatures seeping through and nipping at your skin despite the warm wool gloves that cover the appendages. Your breath was a foggy mist as you breathe, leaning back as the air swirls around and encapsulates the interior of the.. Let’s call it a cozy vehicle.

It was easy to notice the slow pace that the coach was going: after all you can only be lost in your thoughts for so long. Going out of the city during this time of year was always a toss up on how navigable things would be.. But given the surge in technology with these infused machines and .. these wizards and such- theoretically it should be a breeze.

A gilded bag sits beside you on the worn leather seats, the contents packed with purpose- containing the bare essentials, among other things. It was silent besides your ragged breath, gripping the fabric of your cloak in a white-knuckled grip, lips pursed as you glanced through the fogged glass once more as if something would change in the scenery. The engrained tick made it a habit hard to shake off; eyes flickering back and forth repetitively either side of dark path on the left of you to the dark path to the right of you, almost compulsively like it was an itch needed to be scratched despite there being no one there the last ten times you checked. It was a simple inkling that needed to be constantly taken care of- as if the moment your head was turned, you could almost swear that something was looking back at you.

A face? Ah, it was just some branches-

The stagecoach swerves and it makes you jolt out of your thoughts, eyes glancing behind you towards the front of the carriage, absentmindedly chewing on your tongue and a grimace immediately crosses your features, not even registering the pinprick of pain in your mouth.

Seeing the horses rearing their hooves, stopping in their tracks, the horse’s squeals were loud even over the sound of the biting wind. All of it felt too familiar; it’s been years and yet.. It’s almost too easy to fall into the abyss of your mind, your breathing slowing. The slow and steady stream coming to a halt as if the crimson in your veins were mere molasses- stopping the flow to what allowed you to properly breathe, feeling as though your chest was being crushed. Pressing down, ripping the air out of my lungs– peine forte et dure.

It was almost mocking in a sense, the stagecoach seems to disappear and you’re planted firmly back in the painful memories that dance around your skull like a rattle, the taunts and phantom pains drifting over the side of your face. Remembering the curve of a dagger sinking into your skin and through tissue, choking on blood- a sense of blind panic seeping its way into the air that your lungs struggle to remember how to be of use. You recall smoke- thick and permeating down your trachea, choking- gagging for some sort of reprieve, your hands outreached to grab their hand if only you could stretch just a little further-

A bang startles you out of your stupor as you gasp, head whipping to the side- cold sweat dripping down your temples. Your left hand feels unnaturally heavy as you take a deep breath to steady your haggard breathing, trembling as you stare at the coachman- a harengon- you hadn’t recalled his name. He hops into the interior, shooting you a look of concern. You gulp a few times to soothe your dry throat, the taste of iron bittersweet, coating your tongue as if a rich cabernet- thick and heavy. Familiar.

“Ma’am- I’m so sorry. The path is too treacherous I can only take you this far-”

It takes you longer than you would have liked to collect yourself-, licking your dry lips, the cracks from the dry weather causing the simple motion to sting. “And- And I do believe I paid you for a full express ride through the Surykyk Range and to the top of Mt. Akka. Did I not?” Your voice is firm, albeit a little shaky as you cock your head looking at the rabbit with pursed lips.

He looks apologetic, wringing his hat between his two paws, his ears drooping. “Ma’am, really, you have to understand-”

“Understand?”

“Yes, I know you prepaid but the road after this gets too perilous and..” His voice becomes a sort of background noise, an ugly feeling festering as you blink slowly. There was that sensation again you’ve felt a few times over the past few years; a little tingle on the hairs of your neck as they raised, along with the incessant buzz that completely sounds out the haregon’s voice. His lips move- words that seem to go in one ear and out the other, as if making fun of you. His droopy ears, his expression of sympathy- no pity. Looking at you like you’re some sort of wounded animal– no- he was mocking you. Of course he was.

Your hands tremble as they tighten into fists, mouth opening and then closing and you let out a heavy sigh. It was irritating- how could a simple job such as this could not be? Pay some gold to get to the top of a mountain- why was everyone around you acting so completely incompetent? Why are they acting as if you were asking them to do the impossible? In this day and age a small trip of this magnitude should be nothing. A walk in a park. If they weren’t going to be of any use then.. Why are they even in front of you at all? Do they seriously not know how long you’ve waited for this and they’re just denying you access? Over a petty blizzard? No.

Beneath your gloves the skin was taut as you tighten your hands into fists as if it would help ground yourself but to no avail. The low buzzing grows louder; like bees humming around your brain like the ridges and valleys were honey- drowning out the pounding of your heartbeat. Louder and louder, reaching deep into the grooves and making their place known, feeding on your festering distress. On your negative emotions. The sense of trepidation melds back into being wound up like a tight spring as you continue to stare hard at the rabbit; your body acting as if on auto-pilot. His whiskers twitch. And you? Well you just go through the movements and zone out once more, falling into a welcoming void of darkness, surrounding you- comforting you.

The blood rushes to your head as your heart pounds, the buzzing ceasing to a low hum. When you come back to, you are still in the stagecoach, however, you are the only living being in it. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise really, these recent bursts of blackouts are more common as of late, happening more often than not. They happen at the most random of times and always seem to exemplify death- oddly enough it only started happening after the incident. Only after you found out you could summon a greater being to give you power.

Your eyes flicker down to the white boots you were wearing and click your tongue, seeing the sprinkle of red bleed into them as if the blood were a brush and the leather it’s canvas. You try to rub out the stain but to no avail, only smearing it into a sort of pinkish hue. Your eyes then move upwards towards the wooden ceiling and then fall unceremoniously towards the corpse, wiping your forehead with the back of your glove, face losing color. Your hands felt almost achy, the muscles strained and well.. Seeing the way his neck was bent ninety degrees, it was understandable. The aftermath of these blackouts were never easy. Fighting down the growing nausea, you stumble out of the stagecoach, clutching your bag firmly to your chest as you pass the horses- trudging through the rough terrain.

—

The hours feel longer now, the evening turning into twilight, as you take the trek by foot. Sheer cliffs drop sharply into the abyss below as you continue to climb further and further from mass-population; rising steadily in elevation as you take in the sights all around as far as the eye can see. The thick blanket of fog really did make it hard to see everything clearly but what of the forest around you that you could see was big. It was vast, the barren trees with a light coat of fresh snow brushing along their branches. Grand normally in nature, but even more so as they seem to tower over the road: the branches sticking out like gnarled fingers, hanging over the cliffside as if trying to beckon you off the beaten path. The snow covered ground is uneven, the shadows cast by the moon creating disfigured shadows and shapes that play tricks on your eyes.

It honestly didn’t help the anxiety whatsoever; the fog, the falling snow— the overall just sensation of being watched. You blame the paranoia and lack of sleep at the time, but it was impossible to resist the urge to look behind you to see if something appeared in the last two seconds you weren’t looking.

Maybe the Haregon was.. right. It was, for lack of a better term, hell. Auril’s reach was deep- as to be expected being so deep into her territory, but it was terrible. The snow piled up to be knee deep, having to pay close attention and really watch where there was the slightest indentation in the snow- if only to figure out where the fissures were so you don’t fall to an unseemly death. It was nearly impossible to do this with just the moonlight to light your way: wishing that you didn’t care so much in case something went wrong. You should’ve just gone through with all this in the comforts of your home.

After all.. It would surely be a shame if you got so close to your goal and yet never reached it. Would truly be such a pity.

The area was honestly reminiscent of what you might conjure up Stygia being like; how you might imagine that part of the hells being in terms of barely being traversable- snow as far as the eye could see. It wouldn’t be a surprise if you saw a gaggle of frost giants or the start of the Styx the next time you turned a corner as you continued to steadily rise in elevation.

The snow crunches beneath your feet, creating a rhythmic cadence. Every step is a genuine, calculated effort to not slip and fall on the surface- gripping the mountain side tightly as to not fall. And well, in addition to yet everything else the frigid and occasional gusts of wind that sends plumes of snow swirling around you, only adding to the overwhelming sense of sheer isolation in this desolate landscape. The further in elevation you get the more that feeling grows on you. It doesn’t help that you can barely see ten feet in front of you either. However.. At some point you realize you may or may not be lost. It was.. Well, it was hard not to get lost.

Yeah, you were definitely lost.

It was easy to look up at the sky and huff, taking a few deep breaths to calm your nerves, but it was certainly a difficult task. Back in the city when you initially planned out this whole grand scheme, it was theoretically supposed to be an easy trip. Go out to Mt. Akka- far away from civilization in case you mess up the ritual, and then summon the all knowing being and make a pact. It was supposed to be easy. Three easy steps. After all that’s what he said all those years ago. The man that started all this.

—

Days after the incident had time crawling to a standstill- the hours feeling like weeks. Funeral arrangements made and gone through with. Sympathies and gifts sent to your temporary place of residence as if they were truly sorry for you. ‘Sorry for your loss.’ ‘She was a wonderful mother, a great friend.’ If they truly felt that way, then why was it just you looking down at the casket as it got covered with soil? Why were you the only person who seemed to be grieving for this loss? Why did nobody else come to pay their respects as you stayed for days, finding solace in the overturned soil? As if you could claw your way through the ground and climb inside with her, hugging the charred corpse and burrowing between her ribs. Aching for the sensation of a hug, of an embrace.

It really was no surprise when you’re found spending your nights in a shady tavern. Tucked away deep in the city- in alleyways, far away from the upper levels. It really was the best place to drink away your sorrows. It was the perfect place to become a nobody.

Huddled into a corner of a grimey back alley place, the wood sticky and stained with what, you weren’t sure. It was loud that night; and yet there you were: alone with nothing but a tankard of ale to drown out anything else. Just wanting to get numb. Just wanting to .. stop everything. Patrons come in and out, and yet there you stay even as dawn begins to rise. Sticking out like a sore thumb despite the best efforts to blend in. Too rigid to count as a regular, too downtrodden to appear lighthearted enough to familiarize yourself with the other joyous people. Just a meager human in a hodgepodge of species.

That’s where he found you. Sitting on a stool on the end of the bar; staring down at the amber liquid, gently nursing the liquid- too many drinks in to necessarily turn your nose up at the far too bitter and pungent cheap ale. It was now a more comforting taste, dulling the senses, muffling the loud noise, turning it into a vice.

A hand brushes along the curve of your ass- quickly making its way up and settles over the nape of your neck- squeezing absentmindedly, and you’re brought back to the present. Head lolling to the side slightly as your gaze travels upwards. Bright blue eyes stare back at you, resembling a kaleidoscope of precious gems- sapphire, larimar, kyanite- swirling and sparkling with mischief, his gaze adorned with an impish grin. His dark hair was ruffled up in a sort of weird style, long on the top, short on the sides. He was a peasant, it was easy to assume but if you were more coherent, it was easy to tell that he was anything but, despite how he presented himself to you. Back a little too straight, nails clipped and short, no signs of dirt underneath them. The stranger’s fingers dig into your flesh and you frown, squinting up at his sheer audacity.

It was then you noticed his ears- ah. That’s why he looked so .. ethereal. His skin was perfect. But he had facial hair.. A half elf? Regardless, you stick your nose up at him as you scowl, perfectly content to wallow in grief in peace. Trying to twist your head out of his gentle, but firm grip. Mouth opening to tell him off- to leave you the hell alone–

“Ah’ll buy ye a drink bonnie.” His low purr cuts off your starting protests, hovering over you, blocking your view from the rest of the tavern- hand squeezing you once more before falling and taking their place across your lower back as if it belonged there. The warmth of his skin follows your movements as you press against the bar in a sluggish attempt to get some space. The man tilts his head down at you, giving a toothy smile when your frown deepens, looking at him with clear apprehension- “Dinnae ken, i’ll buy ye something strong. You look like ye need it, hm?”

It was easy to squirm under his insistent gaze, nodding. Eyes half-lidded as you blink slowly, the pads of his fingers absentmindedly tapping into your back when you didn’t answer verbally. “Yeah.. I guess so.”

Never realizing that you never had a choice; it truly was never an offer.

Regardless, this stranger- Johnny you later found out his name was- listened to your tales and woes as you blubber over the ‘top’ shelf liquor. Slurring your words incomprehensibly as he sat on the stool next to you, large hand now finding its home in holding the flesh of your thigh far too high up to be considered respectable. It was easy to take the information given to you at heart as he even gave such great life advice. Describing wonderful tales of protection- of something to work for- a goal to try and get to. It was hard to remember at the time why his words seemed to cut through the fog of the alcohol, and why it stuck with you.

“And he’d make sure ye’d never have te worry about nothin’ again. Set up for life, able to get easy protection for yerself. Sounds like a dream, and it’d only be a few small things tae do.” Poisonous words seeping into your ears paired a saccharine sweet smile hiding the maws of a dog ready to bite down at a moment’s notice. Holding himself back, playing nice for you. For him. “I mean yer a wee bonnie thing, drinkin’ your life away. Shh.. shh I ken, I ken- I know it’s hard.” Wiping your tears away as they start to overflow again, hiccuping as you take another large swig of your drink.

John was just one of those people that it was easy to talk to- maybe it was how long you’ve been in this place, or maybe it was the fact that he was buying your drinks, who knows. Just a charming gentleman, knowing all the right things to say, and so what if he was a little touchy? Maybe he just needed a little bit of comfort too, surely you could understand that, right? He was so nice in fact that he walked you back to your temporary residence- silly, you must’ve forgotten you told him where you were staying- and when you woke up the next morning there was a concisely written note with everything you needed to do. The smell of sulfur stuck to the parchment as if burned into the grooves of it.

What a nice guy.

—

Yeah, looking back though it certainly wasn’t the brightest idea to go this far away from civilization. But you heard it was a scary ritual! That there might be a lot of consequences to it! But as you looked around the snowy scene with a huff it was clear that you were more than likely not going to make it any further than this without just flat out dying. So.. you pause in your steps. The situation was just so absurd, that you were risking your life for something that might not even happen. But what else is there for you to do at this point? It sparks a bubble of bittersweet laughter in your chest as you wipe away some flurries on your nose- maybe you can just wish to make it out of here alive and well instead.

You crouch down, awkwardly trying to clear away the snow to reveal the hard ground- your hands freezing wet by this point- the wool gloves feeling as though it was becoming brittle and stiff. It takes a few minutes but you were able to eventually clear a decently sized space around you. The ritual should’ve been performed at a higher elevation, for your sake of mind over anything else- but at this point it was quite literally probably either do or die. So might as well try to give it a last ditch effort, right? And with how the snow continued to descend thick and fast, like a relentless onslaught with no regards towards your personal quest, it was only a matter of time. So you continue to awkwardly carve out a space around you, grimacing at how your hard work was by the minute getting covered up by the steadily growing blizzard around you. The line of sight diminished drastically as the snowstorm swept through the landscape like a ghostly specter, cloaking the world in a shroud of swirling white and obscuring all signs of life or landscape.

Clutching the bag so the contents don’t get blown away, you procure a small glass jar of a fiend’s blood- trembling hands starting to pour it on the ground in an attempt to recreate the shape you recall tracing so many times before. It certainly felt different using blood as paint rather than graphite; practically speeding through the process as by the second, snow was landing on your now coagulating hard work. The symbol was lopsided, the intricate circles and lines definitely asymmetrical and not fully correct- A gust of wind shoots through the gorge, the force nearly strong enough to make you crash into the ground. You stumble as the sound of glass shattering resonates, the sound echoing even above the roaring sound of the wind rushing past you. You gulp hard, shaking like a leaf in a raging storm- when another gust, almost like a predator sinking its claws into your skin; forcing you down into the ground, as if you didn’t have permission to stand. Your body hoists itself up for but a brief moment and then unceremoniously falls, and you scowl as your body is forced into a makeshift kneeling position, the cold tendrils blowing past you as if in the imitation of a bone chilling hug.

Well.. a pact summoning could be done standing or sitting down, you suppose.

Somewhere along the way your demands and wishes for this pact- for this all giving wish might have gotten a little.. skewed. It had been a whole process to get to this point after the accident- years dedicated to sneaking about the forbidden areas of libraries- going from nation to nation, paying hefty amounts of gold for mere names that might aid you on your quest for the power to protect yourself. The power to protect what once had long been past, like a memory fleeting in the wind. Faceless people crying out for you to run, for you to stay- for you to save them– for you to save yourself. The power to reach your hands further out and save your loved ones.

So .. when did that start to twist into the wish to live. To simply survive the circumstances you’ve thrust yourself into?

The blizzard seems to rain even worse as you sort of tussle down a gem in the ground of one of the circles- some emerald pendant your family has had in their lineage for centuries. It was an attachment that felt sort of poignant, one of the only few things that’s survived that is of their memory– blinking away the forming tears as you watch the snow slowly fall over the item. You then proceed to pull out a singed book of spells- one you’ve tried to use a countless number of times, but the weave never seemed to allow you to tap into the energy; and you’ve had to hold onto it for the ritual as it was a magical item, no matter how much it was just a blatant form of mockery. As if saying ‘wizards and sorcerers can use me and yield results, so why can’t you?’ You set the heavy leather book on the other circle.

You crawl against the force of the wind awkwardly to the middle of the practically ruined ritual circle, trying not to ruin your already stained clothing- but at this point did it even matter anymore? A small vial is procured- this blood visibly lighter than the fiend’s- this being one of a fellow human; the blood of a friend. You haul yourself to your feet, digging into the hard dirt to keep yourself stabilized, despite how badly the world was trying to send you crashing down to the floor. Clearly unable to keep yourself steady, you hastily drip the liquid beneath you, already starting the incantations that you know oh so well, spreading the liquid in a smear with your heel, praying and hoping this would work. Watching as each drop sinks into the sleet, the macabre tapestry that spirals out– as if the very land itself was painting a picture; weeping for the fallen, mourning their passing in silent reverence. It was for a good cause- you told yourself.

Years of letting your feelings fester, dedicating years of studying and researching towards this moment, your palms becoming doused in red and the darkening of your soul- all towards changing your fate- though you had hoped this moment would end up being done in a well.. more covered environment, however it was no matter. This was the better alternative- getting power for free. Not having to train and be proficient in magic and study all those years. Your mind sort of just latched onto the idea of working smarter- not harder. To get a shortcut in the way of life.

Infernal spills from your tongue- accented and choppy despite your best recreation of it- clearly not of your mother tongue despite the fact you could practically recite it in your sleep by this point. The incantation was slowly spoken, like a low rumble- reaching the far back of your throat, the cadence deliberate and guttural as that small hum of a buzz begins to slowly begin in the deep recess of your mind. A small pocket knife is procured from your bag, flipping it open as you urge your voice to be louder than the howling wind as the snow swirls around you like a vortex. The blade presses against the palm of your hand.

The pain lasted for but a brief moment, small bubbles of blood starting to dribble out of the wound, falling at a faster rate as it dripped onto the circle beneath you, combining with the scarlet already split. The cold wind continues to swish around you, your clothing providing little to no protection as the incantation becomes louder, the words becoming choppy– more frantic. The shadows grow longer, the trees groan as if bearing the weight of something heavy. And then your voice comes to a stop, panting as you wait for something to happen, smiling as you look around with wide eyes, a numbness starting to make its way through your limbs.

Silence.

And more silence.

It was painstakingly easy to panic, hastily repeating the incantation as loud as you can- something setting in. A realization of what you were doing? Yeah that wasn't working.

“No- Nono.” Tears make it harder to see, blinking them away as another cut was made, adding more blood to the middle of the circle as if that would solve all the problems in the world- “Why- Why isn’t it working? I did everything right-” The pitch rises in your growing hysteria, looking around at the partially covered symbol to see if something went wrong. An exasperated sigh leaves your lips and it turns into a chuckle and then into a full on fit of laughter, your cracked lips forming a larger grin. There’s no way right? That this was actually happening. Years of your time- nearly five god forsaken years. If you ever saw that blue eyed elf you’d kill him. Fucking hell-

“Please-” Your head tilts back as you glance up at the stormy sky, pinpricks of fear running down your spine as the expression simmers into a more somber one. It all comes crashing down as a jarring realization that all this time- you didn’t even know exactly who it was you were trying to summon. That elf and all those people telling the stories of tales across the land, talking of a being to grant power. To grant wealth. To provide enough strength to save the people around you. To take a nobody and turn them into a somebody. To give reason to actually keep living instead of joining your mother six feet under. Buried back under the burnt down remains of your estate.

It was described as simple. Summoning the being in a circle of a fiend’s blood- establishing a connection to the outer realms. That part was simple enough, though it took trading with some shady people but eventually you got what you needed; some mercenary you had to pay off to look the other way as you essentially go through the process of bloodletting an imp. Then draw out the symbol- provide the items of a precious gem and a magical artifact. Easy enough. Provide the blood of a friend- showing how willing you are to cut ties your former life to just to establish the connection, and finish it with a drop of your own blood to finish the connection, all while chanting some very specific incantations.

You did all that. So.. why wasn’t it working?

You performed it perfectly.

The hard ground felt like nothing to your numb body as you sank into the snow once more. Glass glitters in the snow as it presses into the side of your face, but you barely register the pain. It was supposed to work. All those scrolls- all those people, all that time. And for what? A useless invocation. Something that didn’t even work. Taking the time and energy, going out of the way of civilization in case something went wrong and.. Yet. And yet- It was silly. It was so freezing out here, the air thin and hard to breathe, but for some reason it felt warm.

You weren’t anything special, a mere human in the world of dragons. In a world of krakens and beholders and all these amazing things. And yet at the end of the day.. you were just a regular old nobody. Sure, you were of a sort of nobility status- though not anymore– but you were trying to change your past; trying to make yourself better. To change what has already been predetermined- to reach up and touch the stars, not realizing that you were tethered to the realm. Trying to rewrite predetermined fate, as if you actually had a chance at being anything more than being completely useless-

It was easy to lose your train of thought, head swimming as an unsettling terror seizes your chest- everything begins to fracture and break. The sounds around you start to become distant echoes, muffled and indistinct, as if you’re listening from the bottom of a deep well. There's a strange detachment, as if you’re floating on the edge of reality, holding on only by the thinnest of threads. The cliffs around you seem like they’re combining overtop, as if you’re looking through a fishbowl lens: the shadows seem darker, twisting and turning under the moonlight’s glow. Your thoughts slow to a crawl, each one a struggle to grasp onto before slipping away like sand through an hourglass, fighting a losing bottle to have any idea be coherent enough to pass through the filter. Accompanied by a tingling sensation that spreads from the tips of your fingers to the crown of your head, as if your body is disconnecting from itself, each limb growing heavier and more distant with every passing moment.

Why did this happen? Why.. did it not work?

Why did you even try? You just wanted to be more. You just wanted to survive. To live.

Black dots fly in your field of view; dancing around like fairies in the wind, mocking as they flutter across your vision with no rhyme or reason. Your vision blurs- the unsaturated colors of the snowscape soften into monochromatic tones of gray; the moonlight seems to go further and further away as your head sinks into the snow; the dots growing larger as if obscuring your vision.

You’d do anything.

You blink slowly as the buzzing creeps up louder, wrapping around your brain and clinging to the nerves. And then all at once dissipates, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The feeling of being watched seeps into your conscious state of mind but at this point it was a mere afterthought, feeling hollow as your eyes fall half lidded.

“Anything?” A low timbre resonates around you, emanating from no discernable source. The disembodied voice seems to drift around your fallen form, as if hovering- waiting.

The realization has a little chuckle ripping its way out of your throat. Oh, you were hearing things now. Lovely. You were discombobulated clearly, eyes closing as you breathe slowly, your heart seeming to calm down. The voice- you weren’t exactly sure if there was someone around you or if you were genuinely going crazy, like it was some angel above speaking to you on death’s door.

Right. Keep your eyes open- it’s not time to sleep yet. Right? But honestly it wasn’t even that cold anymore. Rather warm actually- like you were being coddled in an embrace- why would you want to move? Your eyes squint open against the snowstorm, looking around blearily at your limited scope of sight. Your limbs feel not only heavy but numb, and you knew moving them would be a chore and so you simply stay put laying down. There was a brief moment of nothing and then- Ah, right. There was someone speaking to you.

“Uh huh.” That sufficed right? There was an unnecessarily long pause, prompting you to continue talking- after all, what harm would it do? “Wanna live.” Your tongue felt heavy, as if speaking required some sort of insurmountable effort. You shift- pressing your face further against the dirt, lacking the energy to try and do anything else, little pricks of blood starting to stain the fresh snow.

“You’d do anything?” The gruff voice rings out once more and you almost groan, eyes fluttering around uselessly, vision blurring and becoming unfocused. Why was it–he?- asking you that? Aren’t your last moments supposed to be in peace, not filled with conversation?

“Anythin’.” You slur, gasping for breath as soon as the last sound finishes your chest suddenly tightens, constricting your breath, as if the air around you stills. You don’t notice the change in atmosphere, the magic sprinkling around your body- floating and pulling at unseen chains tethered deep in your heart- too hyper focused on the sudden searing pain on the back of your neck; akin to a branding iron.

“Silly girl.”

You writhe at the sensation, whining, feeling the individual lines of runes being carved deep into your skin. The pain was unlike you’d felt before, even from the pain all those years ago. No- this– this was agony. This was being trapped in a whirlpool, dragged under the depths by the relentless force of pain, unable to find solid ground. This was thousands of needles piercing your skin, pulsing through you like a constant drumbeat- each throb, each line being carved only sending waves of agony. Like a black hole, taking you deep into the Shadowfell, into the Nine Hells- being torn apart- each limb being torn. No- not torn. This was more precise, being carved like a butcher- no like a surgeon, meticulously taking their time to dissect you. To pull back your skin and peer at everything that makes you, you. Each individual nerve and muscle laid bare as they are probed and examined, delving into the very essence of your being. Seeing what makes you tick, what makes you smile- your worst thoughts- your deepest desires.

This feeling wasn’t.. unfamiliar oddly enough- in fact the opposite, as if you’ve felt it before, except this time it was a more obvious invasion, a violation of your innermost sanction as it digs deep into your body and pushing past your ribs and settling into its new home, wrapping an icy claw around your heart and constricting–

Then all at once the torment ceases, the pain being replaced with almost a sense of reprieve. You feel the phantom of a hand brushing over the now raised skin, causing your sweat-ridden body to jerk away frivolously, before settling, letting out a soft sigh. The sudden relief was like stepping into a new realm of freedom and tranquility; as if all the burdens you previously had were released. Like gentle relief that calmed the raging of your mind- calming the storm of anguish and bringing a moment of clarity and peace. The fear that once consumed you, the sense of hopelessness that weighed heavy on your heart, the loneliness that haunted you for years—all of it now seemed fleeting, like passing thoughts. As transient as the wind sweeping through the sky, soon forgotten. Those years of all that struggle; all those years of searching and praying for some sort of help. Like a weight lifted off your chest. You could reach above; no longer being bound to the realm: you could do anything. Be anything- Your eyes had closed, when did they close? You open them- seeing nothing but the darkness of the mountains, but it was so weird, as you could feel it- him- hovering around your form like a lingering shadow. A man? A monster- you weren’t sure. It was hard to tell.

And so, when your eyelids inevitably fell closed once more, it only made sense you were too far gone to even notice the skull-faced monstrosity standing over you, his head tilted as he looked down at his newly anointed warlock with an inscrutable expression. Rich amber eyes looking down at you and then- a pleased hum resonates through the air.

Mere minutes later the spot where you once laid was coated with a fresh coat of snow, looking like a pristine blank page, as if nothing had even transpired there in the first place. As though you never existed in that space to begin with.

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togenabi · 1 year

Text

by the window under the moonlight

inumaki toge x fem!reader ♡ royalty au

♡—when sent to look for your brother, you find a handsome stranger instead.

word count♡— 1.9k words

genre♡— fluff, royalty au

aged up characters♡— 18+

content notes♡— strangers to potential lovers, mutual pining, everyone is a prince or princes, older brother!gojo satoru, no use of y/n, love at first sight ish, very fluff, mc pins toge to the wall, toge writes a love letter, toge uses sign language bc I refuse to write shake or salmon in a royalty au, lets just say that mc is called princess bc their empire > the other kingdoms

author's note♡— i desperately needed toge fluff, so i was motivated to write this! might be a bit wonky bc it's been a while since i wrote a fic, but i'm still happy with how it turned out ^^ enjoy!

You don't know why you believed Satoru when he promised he would sit still at tonight's ball. Maybe it was because you were genuinely looking forward to it. Maybe you wanted to believe that you would have fun with your friends without having to worry about the troublesome crown prince.

But... he was your brother, and as it always was in times like these, you're sent away to find him.

Because he does listen to you.

...

To an extent.

...

When he feels like it.

Running your hands through your hair, you turn towards yet another empty corridor.

“Just where is that annoying—” Your grumbling is interrupted when you spot a head of white hair flit by the corner of your eye.

‘Aha!’ You rush immediately to follow the figure.

It quickly becomes clear that he's very good at dodging you and leading you in circles. However, you know this castle better than anyone, and you trap him into a corner soon enough.

“I'm surprised you fell for that. You aren't usually this easy to... catch...”

A beautiful stained glass window is fixed at the end of the corridor you led him to. The moonlight shines through it and paints the stranger in breathtaking colors.

‘Who is he?’, you wonder. You don't think you've ever seen someone so handsome... Despite an extended collar covering half of his face.

He meets your eyes and frowns. Though you only stand in front of him in confusion.

“You're not... Satoru.” You start slowly, trying to grasp the situation. “Why did you run from me?”

You hear several scuffling feet in the distance, and suddenly you're alarmed.

‘Shit, is this an ambush?’

The stranger seems to be distracted by the noise as well. Taking the opportunity, you sprint and tackle him, pinning him to the wall. This hallway is secluded enough that you're confident whoever's following you won't be able to find you if you keep quiet.

He looks like he's about to say something, but you don't let him.

“Shush!” You say. He looks bewildered.

A moment passes, and you realize that the noise was only from the knights rushing to look for Satoru as well.

You find yourself staying still despite having nothing to hide from the knights. ‘Why do I feel like I've done something wrong?!’

You take the time to analyze the man in front of you while waiting for the knights to depart. Though you can feel his strong build, he doesn't resist you. Perhaps he isn't particularly dangerous, or maybe he doesn't see you as enough of a threat to put up a fight.

The latter irks you more than you thought it would.

The noises fade, and you're about to loosen your grip on the stranger when you hear more sounds. This time, it's the boisterous laughter of those annoying, pompous delegates.

Annoyance paints your face just thinking about the ridiculous rumors they spread. If only they'd properly do their jobs instead of gossiping and pestering you to get married. Imagine if they saw you now, pinning this man to the wall. Why, they would probably chatter about it for years and—

You suddenly realize how... delicate your current situation is.

You panic, and the stranger tilts his head as if asking you, ‘What?’

“Shhhhh!!!” Before you could help it, you shush the man with urgency, using your hands to cover his mouth. You couldn't even begin to comprehend the international scandal that would unfold should you be discovered in this very compromising position—with a noble you've never met, no less!

“Did you hear that the crown prince disappeared again?” One of the delegates cackled.

“Oh my, again? Then was the princess sent to fetch him?”

“It seems so! But I hear she has been gone for some time as well! Ho ho!”

“Perhaps she has gotten tired playing her brother's keeper. I can't believe the future of the empire lies on the shoulders of someone so happy-go-lucky. Tsk.”

The voices fade. Holding your breath, you crane your neck every which way to see if the delegates have truly left. You finally spare the stranger a glance once you're met with a noiseless hallway. You sigh deeply.

‘This man would probably be angry’, you think to yourself...

You expected him to be mad, or to throw a tantrum. You waited for him to shove you off despite you being a princess—to demand an explanation and god forbid, compensation for the stress they endured this entire ordeal. That's how most, if not all, nobles were these days. Entitled beyond repair.

But to your surprise, you find him smiling. The corners of his eyes pinch as if he finds the situation very amusing. His shoulders shake due to laughter, and that's when you notice the color of his coat—a deep bluish purple... The color reminds you of the Inumaki clan, of the flag on the carriage you saw arriving this morning.

...

Ah. You let go of him.

His eyes glow with mischief as he watches you take in his appearance. The coat. The color of his hair. The purple eyes...

...The markings he reveals after he pulls down his collar.

You've played yourself a fool.

You back away from him immediately, clearing your throat and smoothing your hands over your skirt. “I deeply apologize, prince Toge.” You bow deeply.

Toge bows to you as well. Afterwards, he begins to sign a response. ‘You have a strong grip, princess.’

Your cheeks grow warm. Of course he decides to make fun of you. But then again, it was very rude of you to have literally cornered and restrained him.

“Again, I'm sorry.” You take a deep breath. “As you may have heard, I was looking for my brother. I only followed you because I thought you were him.”

His eyes glint wickedly. ‘And the pinning?’

“I-I was flustered.” You still are, but you curtsy to him and look to the floor to hide your expression. “Please excuse me. I must go.”

Toge watches you leave, and a smile blooms on his face when he sees your ears turning red.

He looks back to the stunning window at the end of the hall, and engraves into his memory how beautiful you had looked under the iridescent moonlight.

⋆｡˚ 🪟 ˚｡⋆｡˚🌕˚｡⋆

After trying (and failing) to find your dearest brother, you decide to return to the ballroom. You spot your trio of best friends conversing near the buffet table. Prince Megumi catches your sight first, and walks briskly to meet you.

“Where have you been?” He asks, and you think this is the most frazzled you've seen of the dark haired prince.

“I was looking for my brother, where else?” Your thoughts wander to prince Toge, and you subconsciously look around to see if he has returned as well. Your eyes find prince Yuji and princess Nobara approaching.

“When we thought you were taking too long, we left to find you.” Nobara explains. “But we ended up finding your brother instead.” She gestures to the end of the ballroom, where Satoru is sprawled on his seat next to the emperor's.

“Serves him right to look so bored. He's so much more trouble than he's worth.” You tsk.

Yuji catches your attention. “But I don't understand what took you so long, princess. You usually find him quickly, did something happen?”

Once again, your mind is brought back to Toge, and how he looked when you first saw him.

You must have taken a beat longer to reply. The three of them suddenly lean closer to try and read your expression.

“Are you alright?”

“Don't you dare try to keep whatever this is a secret from us!”

“So something did happen!”

They bombard you with questions, and you're suddenly overwhelmed. “I'll explain if you all let me, now will you?”

You pull them towards the wall, where there are less people, before explaining what happened.

...

You immediately regret doing so.

Your friends fail to compose themselves as they laugh. You're baffled as even Megumi laughs at you. He tries to cover his mouth, but it's too late. You glare at all of them.

“I can't believe you told prince Toge, of all people, to shush!” Nobara wipes her eyes with a handkerchief.

Yuji is still keeled over as he nods. “I would have paid to see that!”

“Now I understand what Maki and Panda were laughing about earlier, and why they kept looking over at us.” Megumi smirks at you teasingly.

“No!” You gasp. “They didn't!”

“Oh yes they did!” Yuji counters. “It all makes sense now!”

The trio seems to have regained their composure, but you're still a bit miffed. You refuse their offer to dance with you.

“I don't want to dance with any of you right now.”

“Oh shush, princess!” Nobara says, and they're caught in a fit of laughter once again.

But then their eyes shift to something behind you, and their next words get stuck in their throat.

You hear footsteps before you look over your shoulder. Prince Toge advances towards you.

He bows in a graceful motion, just as he did before. ‘I greet the princess of the empire. May I have this dance?’ He asks before holding out his hand.

You expected to be too embarrassed to dance with him well. But you're learning that your expectations are often wrong tonight.

Words fail to describe how wonderful it was to dance with him.

For someone who held him against a wall, the prince looks at you fondly. More fondly than you expected, and more fondly than anyone else has ever regarded you. His movements are confident and smooth as he leads you along to the music.

You want to apologize again, and possibly say that you're enjoying your time with him; but you have the strangest feeling that he already knows.

And thus, you stay silent, and let yourself be swept off your feet. The gentle melody plays on and contrasts with the erratic beating of your heart.

When the dance ends, he leans down to bring his face closer to yours. He takes your hands and brings your fingers up to cover his lips—reminiscent of how you had done earlier when you were hiding. You blush as he kisses your fingers while holding your hands firmly.

You find yourself unable to think of anything else even when the ball draws to a close.

You're unable to properly greet him goodbye, but you meet his eye when he looks over before entering his carriage. He nods, and smiles sweetly at you, the kind that reaches his eyes.

Your attention snaps away from him when Nobara demands you make her your maid of honor at your wedding, and you're left flustered once again.

⋆｡˚ 🪟 ˚｡⋆｡˚🌕˚｡⋆

A letter from him arrived the next day.

Dearest princess,

I realize I left you last night without apologizing to you. Please accept my apology now, though it may be late. You said you were flustered, and that was what led you to your actions last night. I'm afraid it was the same for me.

I don't know why I ran from you, or why I didn't bother to turn around sooner to confirm the identity of my pursuer. But now I'm certainly glad I didn't, for it has left me with memories I will surely cherish.

I will be frank. I am unable to stop my thoughts of you, and would like to get to know you more. Allow me to be the one to pursue you, this time.

In a few weeks, during the crown prince's birthday banquet, please let me steal you away for a while. I hope to meet you there again, by the window under the moonlight. I look forward to your reply.

Thinking of you,

- Toge

⋆｡˚ 🪟 ˚｡⋆｡˚🌕˚｡⋆

[PART 2]

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